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fvnalgirlcomplex · 6 months

Text

PRETTY ISN’T PRETTY ✸ J. HUGHES

and it begins!! this is irl but also mostly social media au because my tumblr is/was acting up and deleted most of what i had written and.. i’m lazy so!!! reader is referred to as ‘you’ and their looks are talked about but i tried to avoid describing looks… however… reader doesn’t have blonde hair but listen like every nhl fic uses a blonde girl for the fc so. i think its justified!! but sorry to anyone blonde reading lol. i didn’t rlly know how to end this tbh but i hope it’s still good and i hope u like it!! remember that you are beautiful! any negative things said obviously aren’t true :)

warnings: light mention/implication of an eating disorder, insecurities, hate comments, reader gets picked up (lowkey manhandled a little bit), suggestive comments (2), unedited writing

masterlist, series masterlist

fc: olivia rodrigo ( oliviarodrigo on ig )

summary: dating jack wasn’t gonna be easy, you knew that. you just thought him traveling a lot was gonna be the hardest, not being picked apart by his fans.

bought a bunch of makeup,

tryna cover up my face

i started to skip lunch,

stopped eatin’ cake on birthdays

youruser

liked by lhughes and 56,890 others

youruser 22!! shout out to cole caulfield

view 182 comments…

colecaulfield thank you for the shout out. I really needed it.

youruser anything for a fan

user19 she’s so cocky omg

yourfriend the cake was so good! you should’ve had some :(

youruser the cake wasn’t very big and i don’t really like cake that much anyways lol glad you liked it though!!

jackhughes ❤️

liked by youruser

user373 at least she chose a blurry pic so we don’t have to see her face lmaoo

jackhughes

liked by trevorzegras and 120,293 others

jackhughes birthday girl 🎂

view 367 comments…

_quinnhughes haps

youruser damn. not even a full sentence 😔

user14 even his brother doesn’t like her lmao 💀

user298 i hope she knows she’s public enemy #1

user63 bro could do sm better

trevorzegras big! 22! 2️⃣2️⃣

user86 the way she looks at him though 🥹

user7 no..

user329 why are you so miserable

user738 he did her so dirty with the second picture 😭 makeup can only do so much but somehow she looks even worse than i imagined with no makeup

“I didn’t know it was such a big deal—”

“It shouldn’t have to be a big deal, Jack! I asked you not to post it, I don’t understand why you don’t listen!”

Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were taking your insecurities out on Jack when it really wasn’t his fault. But, it’s hard to stay calm when you’ve started to hate what you see everytime you look in the mirror, or someone takes a picture of you and that’s when you have makeup on. Words couldn’t describe how gross you feel without makeup on.

“I think you look gorgeous. I don’t know what the issue is.” Jack responded, too nonchalantly for your liking.

“The issue is that I don’t think I look gorgeous so I don’t want it out in the world for all your fans to see.” Jack sighed at your response. He knew what this was about but to him, you the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. He just couldn’t grasp how someone like you could be insecure.

“Y/n…” He said softly, grabbing the sides of your face. The mood in the room had quickly changed from tense to sad as soon as the word fans was mentioned. “You’re stunning. I know you don’t believe me but, you really are. All those comments are from a bunch of teenage girls who are jealous. I know it’s hard to block out but you just have to try ‘cause I wanna show everyone how pretty my girl is, okay?” Jack finished, trying to cheer you up. It didn’t really work to be honest but still, through glass eyes, you looked up at him and nodded before he brought you into a comforting hug.

You wanted to believe him, you really did. But it wasn’t just teen fan girls. It was also grown men. Men your boyfriends age who thought you were just as hideous. They couldn’t have been doing it for the same reasons as the fan girls. They had to have just been being honest, right?

‘cause there’s always somethin’ missin’

there’s always somethin’ in the mirror

that i think looks wrong

when pretty isn’t pretty enough,

what do you do?

You loved spending time with Jack. And you also loved getting to spend time with the people he cared about. But the pressure of looking good before going knowing that pictures would be taken, with or without you knowing, made you want to puke.

You started planning out your outfits far in advance, what shoes, how you’d do you hair, your makeup. Everything. You told yourself over and over again that the outfit is cute. You asked Jack about it and he always reassured you that you would look beautiful in anything and the friends you’d ask say the same thing.

But that still wasn’t enough to stop your brain from making you think everything was wrong. No matter you were wearing, when you looked in the mirror it just looked… wrong. Like something was missing.

“Babe?” Your boyfriends voice came softly through the bedroom door. Jack had invited you to the Devils Halloween Party this year which would be your first New Jersey Devils event. Jack and Luke were wearing matching spider-man costumes with Nico and Dawson who were currently at the brothers apartment. “You ready?” He asked you as he poked his head into the bedroom before fully stepping in, closing the door behind him.

“Yeah, I was just looking for my cat ears.” Lie. You were overanalyzing yourself like you always did before you went out but you knew if you told Jack that he’d feel bad and tell you that you didn’t have to go if you weren’t comfortable.

It wasn’t clear if Jack really believed your lie but he glanced around the room for the headband anyways before finding it on the edge of the bed next to you and placing them on your head for you.

Still sitting on the edge of the bed from when you were putting on your boots before you caught a look at yourself in the mirror, you looked up at Jack, who’s hands stayed on the side of your face after gently placing the headband on you.

Words weren’t exchanged as he looked at you, his thumbs tenderly moving over cheeks. He moved down to place a lovingly soft kiss on your forehead and then your lipstick covered lips.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered against your mouth. You almost believed him.

njdwag.updates

liked by jackhughes and 2,384 others

njdwag.updates y/n at the halloween party with a fellow wag. she went as a black cat 🐈‍⬛

view 103 comments…

theotherwag sweetest girl to ever exist 🩷

user273 jacks like 🥹

user33 is this a safe space?

user649 depends…

user33 i love yn. and i love yn and jack!! they’re so cute and it’s so obvious everyone that hates her is just jealous :/

user472 REAL!!! they claim to be fans of jack but hate to see him happy… like something isn’t adding up??

liked by 208 others

user634 wait jack went as spider-man and she went as a black cat?? she’s kinda funny for that

user710 jack probably didn’t want to outright match with her 💀

user845 her standing next to another wag.. this is so sad like jack!! wake up!!

and everybody’s keepin’ it up, so you think it’s you

i could change up my body and change up my face

i could try every lipstick in every shade

but i’d always feel the same

‘cause pretty isn’t pretty enough anyways

njdwags

liked by 1,266 others

njdwags y/n y/l/n at her colleges football game with friends!

view 103 comments…

user968 everytime there’s a picture of her standing next to someone it really highlights how ugly she is LMAO

user263 idk why people hate her sm she’s so pretty

user945 she’s even prettier in person! i met her at the game and she was so nice. it’s so sad to see all the hate she gets :(

liked by njdwags

user293 we have class together!! she’s literally so sweet and smart

user683 ugly ass

user78 she chose a college football game over her boyfriends hockey game…

user537 why does she always have her tongue out 💀

and i try to ignorе it, but it's everythin' i see

it’s on the poster on the wall, it's in like every magazine

it’s in my phone, it's in my head, it's in the boys i bring to bed

it’s all around, it's all the time, i don't know why i even try

It’s like you couldn’t stop yourself from reading comments on posts about you. You knew you should ignore but it seemed impossible to ignore at this point.

You knew the comments would be negative like they always were but you always had hope they would be nice for once. And there was nice ones sometimes! But most were so overwhelmingly negative, you couldn’t even focus on the positives.

And it wasn’t just comments either, no. Not anymore at least. Since, you’ve read the comments, it’s like all the negative has leaked out of your phone and into every aspect of your life.

It was when you visited your family over winter break, you had totally forgotten about the posters you had in past years of icons from your childhood. Icons who were so how all skinny or blonde or had stunning blue eyes or all three. The break was supposed to get you away from all that and yet, you still cried yourself to sleep that first night.

Every aspect of life also included you and your boyfriend. You knew before you and Jack had started dating, he was constantly liking other girls bikini pics on instagram. And even though he had stopped doing that, you’d still seen tweets from his fans in the past joking about how he was “always at the scene of the crime” with a screenshot of his like on a picture of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. And while you tried to ignore it, you noticed of a pattern with all the girls. They looked a lot like the icons from your childhood. Nothing like you.

So now, late at night, when you were supposed to be having quiet and sweet moments with your boyfriend; your boyfriend that you didn’t get to see very often at that! You spent those moments thinking about those stupid likes on those stupid pictures of those stupidly beautiful girls.

And as for you, the comments had really gotten to your head. Even when you weren’t with Jack and you weren’t on your phone or in your childhood room. You still found someone to compare yourself to. It was like some kind of superpower.

and i bought all the clothes that they told me to buy

i chased some dumb ideal my entire life

and none of it matters and none of it ends

you just feel like shit all over again

Was this silly? It feel silly.

This didn’t feel like you but a change was needed.

Jack (and Luke) had been hanging out with the team all day and you had the day off. You had decided to spend the time alone shopping for clothes that you would’ve never worn before this past month and a box of blonde hair dye.

“We’re home!”

Luke’s voice rang through the apartment, snapping you out of your trance that you were in while staring out the box of hair dye taunting you on the bathroom counter.

“Y/n?” Now it was Jacks voice that made its way through the apartment.

“Bathroom!”

You could hear his footsteps come closer to the bathroom door before a knock on the door, hesitating before opening the door before him. He slipped in before locking the door behind him.

“I was gonna jump in the shower if he wanted to join me.” Jack told you, his hands sliding around your waist with his back to the door. Naturally, your hands slipped around to rest behind his neck, forgetting about the hair dye sitting on the counter.

“I think I’m gonna have to pass this time—”

“You’re gonna dye your hair?” Jack cut you off, his eyes focused behind you.

“Oh- Yeah, I just, um, wanted a change I guess.”

Jack didn’t say anything or take his eyes off of the box of hair dye. He didn’t buy it for a second but he just didn’t understand. How could you not see how beautiful you were. Jack had known the comments were bad, he just didn’t realize they were getting to you this badly. He looked back to you, who had a guilty look in your eyes. Jack sighed before moving you over to the counter, placing you next to the box.

“Baby, if you really want to dye your hair blonde; go for for it. But I don’t think you want to.” You couldn’t even look at him. You felt embarrassed that you’d been confronted about how out of hand these insecurities have gotten, even if it wasn’t really your fault. You felt like a child being scolded. “I know we’ve talked about this before but you really have to listen to me this time okay, babe?”

Jacks hand came up to your chin, gently pushing your head up to make eye contact with him.

“You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I mean that. All those assholes just want to find someone to hate more than themselves and I’m sorry that dating me has made you a target for that. But blonde hair dye isn’t gonna make them stop. I’ll say something— I should’ve said something sooner but I’ll do it now. Just- Just don’t change for them because they won’t ever be happy. Pretty isn’t pretty enough for them, okay?”

You were crying now. Because you knew he was right and you were upset you had let them drive you crazy. You continued to cry as your boyfriends arm came around your frame. You uttered apologies, not quite sure for what, while his hand rubbed your back.

After a while, your tears stopped and Jack pulled away. “I love you. And I told you, if you really want to go blonde, go for it. I mean, you’ll look hot either way—”

“Jack!”

“Okay, okay. Blonde or no blonde.” He asked with a small smile on his face, holding up the box of hair dye.

“No blonde.”

Jacks smile grew as he threw the box into the trashcan. His hands slid down to your thighs, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“So… can we get that shower now?”

#GUTS SERIES🩸#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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ggukkieland · 2 years

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📕BTS Fic Reads - 2022 July - Oct

I’ve been getting messages about my reading lists (because I haven’t been posting monthly and I really don’t have any excuse for not posting for four months lol). Though most of these have been reblogged, commented on, mentioned, etc. and that anybody can just check my archive and tags for the fics, I compiled them all in this list for easy reference (I refer to these lists too 😊). I also notice that it is easier to find fics when they are logged/documented somewhere and when described or properly tagged in the post. I hope this will help readers and potential readers find the fics they like.

💌 Again, these are not mine and we have all these authors to thank - I really appreciate all of you. I may not get to reach all of you but I hope this can serve as a multiplier and reach other readers to discover your gift of stories and for them to find their favorites 💌

Note: if link doesn’t work, click on author link and go to their masterlist

🥕 Ongoing - most recent chapter [as of date this list was posted]

🥕 Completed - drabbles | one shots | series

🥕 S - smut | F - fluff | A - angst

Mostly Mature, 18+ only please

I read different members, different genres so please take note of the tags, description per fic

Don’t forget to reblog/comment on author’s work, too 😊

No AO3 Fic Recs because I have a more organized system on ao3 and putting it here will take time 😭 sorry.

[around 120 fics] I should really go back to posting per month to avoid this buildup

🥕 [Ongoing Series]

↬ Namjoon

And They Were Roommates @joonsrack - two shot [1/2] | 8.4k+ | roommate!taehyung who suddenly left for the summer and had his room rented by Namjoon, strangers to lovers, temporary roommate!Namjoon, unrequited love (OC to Taehyung), unrequited (namjoon to OC), namjoon is so endearing (but destructive lol), humor | f, a

↬ Seokjin

The A-Listers @httpknjoon - drabble series [3/?] | 4.3k+ | actor!seokjin x famous!reader, crack/humor, actors au, rumored relationship but kind of a mystery/guessing game if they are together or not (fun!) | f

To Kill a King @foxymoxynoona - series [7/?] | 100k+ | historical fantasy, political themes, royalty au, Prince!Seokjin | a, s, f

↬ Yoongi

Control @hxseok-honee - series [00/09] | teaser/background | demon king!yoongi, blind!reader, twin brother!hoseok, royalty au, supernatural | a, f In which a hidden princess, much to her twin brother’s dismay, concocts the most unimaginable of plots for the sake of escaping her world of pain and suffering. OR a demon king meets his maker and learns that the one person who can see right through him is a girl who can’t see at all. | a

Match Made in Hell @ughcore - series [7/?] | 23k+ | enemies to lovers (rivals), arranged marriage, doctor!yoongi, unrequited? (it begins as a mystery what their past was) | a, f

Twirl for Me @gimmethatagustd - series [3/?] | 19k | stripper au, single dad!yoongi, a bit of Jungkook, ballet instructor!reader (yoongi’s daughter takes ballet classes), secret identity (i guess?), strangers to lovers | s, a

↬ Jimin

Doctor Dreamy @jungblue - series [2/?] | 15.7k+ | exes au, ex!jimin becomes sperm donor, expecting parents | s, f, a

Rumor Has It @jananakookie - series [5/?] | 29k+ | college au, fake dating, “infamous” OC due to bad rumors, Jimin recently broke up and proposed the fake dating | a, f, s

↬ Taehyung

All of our Lifetimes @bangtan-madi - series [9/15] + interludes | 34k+ | boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au, kind of crime au, “After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories?” | f, a

Magic Shop @seokjiniwithluv - series [2/?] | 3.4k+ | club singer!taehyung, daughter of rich CEO arranged to marry CEO!Jimin, enemies to lovers | a, f

Stars Above @crystaljins - drabble series [4/?] | 9.4k | Alien!Taehyung, roommate au (intergalactic exchange program 😁)

Temptation @j-ungkooky - series? [1/?] | 3.1k | CEO!Taehyung, Office AU, Secretary/Assistant!Reader, sexy + humor, intimidating taehyung but he’s actually sweet, he crouched under her desk to hide from someone but this made everything so darn hot 🥵 (no smut yet) | s, future a

Toxic @jeonsjiddies - series [4/?] | 7k+ | stalker!taehyung, hacker!taehyung (using it to stalk and manipulate OC), coworker au | a

↬ Jungkook

All I Want @sxtaep - series [5/?] | 36.9k+ | bestfriend au, fuckboy!jungkook, nerd!reader, FWB au | s, a, f

Bedeviled @writemywaytoyourheart - series [2/?] | 9.1k+ | enemies to lovers, demon!jungkook, human!reader making deals with the devil - gets accompanied by jungkook to the underworld | a, f

Carved @haliiimede - series [3/?] | 39k+ | demon!jungkook x angel!reader, urban fantasy, dystopian au, enemies to lovers | s, a with Taehyung drabble Dominus

Colour Me In @taegularities - series [5/?] | 71.4k+ | fwb au, fake dating au, artist!jungkook, college au, rich au (oc/reader) | s, f, a

Free Use @littlemisskookie - series [6/?] | 13.6k | fwb au, unrequited crush (oc to taehyung), bdsm, childhood friends/neighbor, college au, “Your long time crush agrees to be your dom.” | s, f

Hurtin Me @lookingforluna - drabble series [1/?] | 570 words | ex-FWB, fuckboy!jungkook, roommate au, friends to lovers? | a, s

Idol Jungkook Headcanon @magicshopaholic - series (of one shots but can be read standalone) [4/?] | 42k+ | idol!jungkook, staff!OC (named Lia), strangers to lovers, bad dates, idiots to lovers, eventual dating | f, s The Fifth / Part 2 The Sixth Honey

In Your Eyes @prodgguk - series [00/?] | 1.3k+ (teaser) | widow!reader, detective!jungkook x doctor!reader, past: yoongi x reader (but he passed away) | a, f

Little Baby Bear 2.0 @xddaengx - two shot [1/2] | 5.4k | hybrid!jungkook (he’s a bear hybrid and he’s so cute 🥺), , ex-boyfriend!hoseok who originally owns jungkook but dumped him onto OC, hybrid!taehyung (tiger), hurt/comfort, beginning might be confusing so I read the original version too | a, f

Long Way Home @sparklingchim - drabble series [24/?] | 40k+ | single dad!jungkook, bestfriend!reader, unrequited love, idiots to lovers, feat. Jimin as OC’s fwb | a, f, s

Maniac @strawbearytae - two shot [1/2] | 3.3k+ | exes au, mutual pining, mutual break up, but not kind of ignoring each other, got assigned for a project/Music Festival | a (so far)

Milestones @valorkook - series [00/?] | 900+ | hospital au, doctor!jungkook, nurse!reader, tsundere!jungkook, enemies to lovers | f, a

↬ OT7/Multi

Double Trouble @bangtanstanst & @jooneos - Jungkook x Reader | Christian Yu x Reader

series [3/?] | 59k+ | tattoo artist!jungkook, tattoo artist!christian yu, flower shop staff!reader, roommate au (jk x oc), friends to lovers, bet/dare au (JK bet he’d be better than CY), some jealousy involved | s, a, f

🌷So I read this years ago and I wasn’t that aware of Christian Yu but then this fic blew my mind and I’m so into this pairing/love triangle/poly relationship even though I still don’t follow CY that much at present time. This is just crazy hot. It doesn’t help that there’s this post years ago predicting that Jungkook’s future state is Christian Yu (tattooed, hot but cool).

Office Hours @softiegguk - OT7 x Reader

series [2/7] | 12.2k+ | office bangtan, office au, bts x finance manager!reader, pwp, coworkers au, staff accountant!jungkook, admin assistant!taehyung, project manager yoongi (coming soon), business analyst jimin (coming soon), sales representative hoseok (soon), executive assistant!seokjin (soon), CEO!Namjoon (soon) | s

↬ Themed Series

The Nanny Diaries @btsgotjams27 - OT7 (individual drabble series) bts themed series, single mom!reader, accidental nanny!bangtan, humor | f

namjoon | au: neighbors ➥ the reluctant nanny (tba)

jin | au: friends ➥ the accidental nanny

yoongi | au: housemates➥ the i-had-no-choice nanny

hoseok ~ ?

jimin | au: co-workers

taehyung ~ ?

jungkook | au: strangers to friends➥ the unexpected nanny➥ the blind date➥ the weekend trip

🥕 [Completed Fics/Series]

I Love You @ughseoks - drabble } 1.8k | slice of life, strangers to lovers, established relationship, boyfriend to husband, expecting parents au, tooth-rotting fluff, snippets of important moments with Namjoon | f (i love this! I still cry thinking about this drabble)

The Interpretation of Dreams @ppersonna - one shot | 13.8k | PhD Mentor Namjoon, Post-grad, OC/Reader crushing on Namjoon | s, f

Fool Me Once, Fool Me Twice @dalamjisung - series [3/3] | 11.9k | unrequited au (oc to namjoon), best friend jisoo went after namjoon too, self-discovery fic (for OC), more on OC and her relationship with Jisoo and discovering her true friends/true self | a, f

Lost in the Funhouse @dovechim - one shot | 9.7k | thriller, prisoner!namjoon, asylum, psych patient, psychological, criminal au, psychiatrist!reader | s

Mission @dreamscript - one shot | 3.2k | spy au, team leader!namjoon, established relationship, coworker, action (slight), hurt/comfort (oc comforts him when he felt he messed up leading a mission and OC got hurt) | f

Sail @sunshinejoon - drabble | 1.6k | strangers to lovers, idol!namjoon, staff!reader, eventual established relationship, boyfriend au, tattooed!reader (which Namjoon got curious of), hurt and comfort too | f

Show me How @imaginationofacrazyfangirl - one shot | 3.9k | virgin!reader who decided to hook up through tinder, dating app, strangers to lovers, not sure if this is ongoing but it ended with a vibe that it has a continuation(?) | s

Straps & Chokers @joonsrack - drabble | 2.1k | CEO!Namjoon x Assistant!reader, boss-employee relationship (reader finds him stressful at work), BDSM Club, Meeting your boss in a BDSM club is probably the last thing you were expecting coming here. | s (nothing graphic but very mature themes)

The Body Through Time @yeoldontknow - one shot | 10.9k | exes au, falling out/break up, post-grad, professor!namjoon, OC offered graduate assistant position (Art History Dept) and needs Namjoon’s signature but he’s still hurt 🥺| a, s, f

The Wedding Arrangement @sugaurora - one shot | 44k | enemies to lovers, turned FWB, neighbor au, medical/health professional (physician’s associate!reader), construction contractor!namjoon, wedding au (seokjin’s), unrequited love (oc to seokjin) | a, f, s

Til Death Do Us Part @justimajin - series [11/11] | 49.2k | arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, assassin au/agent au, heirs, action, themes of revenge, some minor ☠️| a, f, s

All an Act @tteokggukk - one shot | 10.6k | acting major seokjin and oc/reader, enemies to lovers, college au, humor | f, implied s

Timelines @doyouknowbts - series [8/8] | 27.1k | soulmate au, time travel au/teleporting, time slip, doctor!seokjin, journalist!reader | a, f

Amour Propre Blind Spot @randombtsprincessa - two shot [2/2] | 8.9k | idol!yoongi, break up au | a, f

Bubbles @dreamcatcherjiah - SMAU | neighbor au, mutual pining, producer!yoongi x writer!reader, parenting au (they are the usual babysitters of their neighbor’s baby Yoonji), something happened to to Yoonji’s Dad and they got appointed to be the guardians | f, a

The Couples Package @pars-ley - one shot | 2k | friends to lovers, fake dating au, vacation au, asked yoongi to join for the couples trip but there is couples therapy in the package (that ended up being too real) | a, f

Dawning Revelation @artaefact - drabble | 522 words | police au, supernatural, detective!yoongi, devil!reader | a

Fixer Upper @gukyi - drabble 1.5k | established relationship, slice of life, humor, tooth-rotting fluff, yoongi keeps asking you to fix things in your new apartment, and it’s getting ridiculous.| f

Post-prank Smutty Drabble @btsqualityy - drabble | 500 words | pwp, husband!yoongi, just filthy, based on a request “...continuation of a smut drabble of YG and mama min of that bad prank that she pulled on Yoongi” | s

Recompense @vminity21 - drabble | 2.9k | college au, used to be childhood friends but grew apart after OC moved away, kind of enemies to lovers (just bickering), tsundere!yoongi, themes of grief, hurt/comfort | a, f

The Art Critic @mooniyooni - drabble | >1k | established relationship, husband!yoongi, dad!yoongi, parenting (yoongi babysitting the babies) Idolverse, tooth-rotting fluff | f

The Devil Skates on Thin Ice @vankoya - series [3/3] | 60.3k | slow burn, exes, figure skater!reader, hockey player!tyoongi, enemies to lovers, college au, sports au, falling out + mutual pining (so I guess this makes it idiots to lovers too), we discover their history and I love the slow burn, a fandom classic really | a, f

Vows aka 10 ways to win your husband's heart @hamsterclaw - two shot + drabbles | 28k+ | arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, sort of fwb too, rich au, heartwarming really I just like this Yoongi, bratty!reader (and oh I wanna tag him as the doting husband), Yoongi was dating someone when he was “forced” to marry OC, OC tried to atone for the times she embarrassed Yoongi, seriously one of my favorite OTPs | f, s

Catch Your Death @dovechim - one shot | 5.1k | hybrid au, arranged marriage, proof of consummation, snow leopard!hoseok, general!hoseok, princess!reader, royalty | s

Checkmate @sunshinejoon - drabble | 743 words | fuckboy!hoseok, unaffected OC (in the beginning), I guess playing with hearts, this was supposed to have a continuation (but this is the last) | a

Feral @lovesickjoon - one shot | 4.1k | best friend au, unrequited love, werewolf!hoseok, supernatural, pwp | s

Head Over Heels to Hell @jimlingss - one shot | 27.5k | soulmate au, reincarnation au, enemies to lovers, college (in the present time) to post-college, childhood friends/acquaintance (present time), star-crossed lovers (past lives), past lives themes of: war, historical, thievery, pregnancy, an amazing PLOT TWIST, humor #holygrailfics | a, f

Make a Move @alpacaparkaseok - one shot | 4.6k | humor, tooth-rotting fluff, roommate au, strangers to lovers, mistaken identity (OC thought roommate Hobi is a girl) | f

Simmer @gimmeyoon - one shot | 17.1k | exes au, falling out, mutual pining, OC came back to town, summer au, coworker au, summer job at a restaurant, eventual angst (why we broke up moment), kind of star-crossed (person with a future vs someone who will hold her back) | a, s, f

Ubiquitous @sunshinejoon - drabble | 1.9k | some parts epistolary, exes au, break up au, OC/Reader discovered a stash of letters by Hoseok when they were still together | a, f

Adonis @xjoonchildx - one shot | 3.4k | humor/crack (this is super funny), paramedic!jimin, nosy meddling lady/neighbor who decided to play matchmaker lol, meet cute, strangers to lovers | f

Best of Me @xotoosweet - two shot [2/2] | 21.6k | slow burn, slice of life, hurt/comfort (themes of depression), fratboy!jimin, college au, strangers to friends to lovers, meet cute (basically saw her diving into a river), one night stand, adulting themes | f, a, implied s

Cathexis @jkeuphoriadreamland - series [3/3] | 27k | thriller, supernatural, firestarter!jimin, OC/Reader used to defend Jimin when he was getting bullied, Jimin comes back to town, a bit mystery (jimin’s powers), slight yandere behavior | f, s

Falling @jvngkook97 - drabble | 990 words | exes au, reunion - catching up over coffee, idol!jimin, mutual pining | a, f

Hooked @parkdatjimin - series [7/7] + drabbles | 56k | nerd!jimin, college au, fwb au, mutual pining | s, f, a

Insatiable + Illusion @artaefact - drabble | >1k | fantasy, angel!jimin x demon!reader, star-crossed forbidden romance, “when he still comes back to you” | a, bittersweet f

Midnight Munchies @yoongihime - one shot | 2.2k | humor, strangers to lovers, college au, delivery boy!jimin, customer!reader, from the prompt: “i made my special request for my pizza for them to send their cutest delivery person and you showed up and apologized that you were the only one delivering tonight and i blurted out that they still got my request right” | tooth-rotting fluff

Rhythmic @darlingwoes - drabble | 2.2k | established relationship, boyfriend au, dancer!jimin, practice room setting, oc/reader hates the song and Jimin danced with OC to make a new memory (uWu) | f, s

The Girl Next Door @alpacaparkaseok - drabble | >3k | strangers to lovers, amusement park, mascot!jimin (he’s chimmy T_T) | f

Jimin Birthday Reblogs

a reblog of my favorite Jimin fics with this hashtag #Happy Jimin Day Fave Fics 2022

about 40+ fics 🙀

5 Times He Said I Love You @n3onguts - one shot | 5k | different versions of ‘i love you’ told throughout the course of a relationship, established relationship, break up or dissolution of a relationship, angsty | a

Armful @ughseoks - drabble | 1.2k | werewolf!taehyung, hairy arm taehyung (something I didn’t know I’d find hot but thank you dear writer), established relationship, boyfriend!taehyung, pwp | s

Broken Rings & Queens and Things @gukyi - one shot | 24k | arranged marriage, kind of fuckboy!taehyung, royalty au, enemies to lovers, prince!taehyung x princess!reader | f, slight a, slight s

Cipher @alpacaparkaseok - one shot | 14.1k | supernatural-ish, mystery, humor too (the two characters have funny exchanges in the beginning), so kind of enemies to lovers vibes too, some plot twist, fairy tale/folk tale reference (Peter Pan & Pied Piper), fortune teller!taehyung, it’s also thrilling though it’s not the usual thriller | f, a

Cold Husband!Taehyung + Kissing each other breathless drabble @leefics - drabble | 1.3k | CEO!Taehyung, arranged marriage au, first kiss prompt, taehyung picking up drunk wife who got emotional thinking taehyung doesn’t like her | f (super cute)

Dickless @monimonimoon - one shot | 11.1k | OC with a boyfriend who can’t satisfy her in some ways, fwb taehyung, cheating OC (unapologetically) | s

The End of Us @angelseokjinnie - drabble | 3.4k | sugar daddy au, four years as sugar baby (by contract) - starts to develop feelings for Taehyung, just graduated!reader | a, s

Good Girls Go Bad @jkstompers - series [3/3] + drabbles | 46k+ | slow burn, hurt/comfort too for Don’t Watch Me Cry drabble, mutual pining, strangers to lovers, then friends to lovers, bad boy au, college au, intimidating taehyung x chirpy cute!oc who asked taehyung to teach her how to be bad, makeover au? | a, f, s

Higher @ppersonna - one shot | 3.8k | strangers to lovers, mile high club, airplane setting, pwp | s, slight f

Locked & Loaded @justimajin - one shot | 10k | action, secret agent au, coworkers, unrequited (for OC), oblivious taehyung (jungkook had to spell it out for him ugh), humor/comedy, boss!yoongi | f

Lost @salvejoon - one shot | 4.7k | enemies to lovers, fuckboy!taehyung, only one bed trope, getting lost, vacation au, stranded au, their best friends are dating (Jimin x OC) but Taehung x Reader don’t like each other (or don’t they? 😉) | a, f, s

Moneyball @oshbluepacific - drabble | 2k | mafia!taehyung, husband!taehyung, arranged marriage, casino setting, some girls thirsting over taehyung and being rude to OC (not knowing she’s the wife), gambling | f

Only One Bed E2L Taehyung drabble @taestefully-in-luv - drabble | 3.3k | humor, e2l, only one bed trope, coworkers, rivalry since college | s

The Only One @jjungkookislife - one shot | 8.7k | best friend au, fuckboy!taehyung, fwb, Taehyung is from the You Up? universe (JK’s story) | s, f

Picture It @dalamjisung - one shot | 4.9k | strangers to lovers, coffee shop setting, photographer Taehyung who job hops, hurt/comfort (adulting & surviving despite parental expectations), mutual pining (they are each other’s muses and OC would write about this Taehyung she just sees at the cafe) | f (really cute and heartwarming too)

Poison Apple @jooniyah - series [3/3] | 82.36k | thriller, mafia au, yandere and psychotic behavior from Taehyung (he’s just…insane), happy ending for OC (or, for now), OC originally married to Yoongi, MIND THE TAGS!!! (not for the faint of heart) | a, s

Restart @yuudetama - drabble | 740 | break up, divorce au, taehyung and soon-to-be-ex-wife talking about turning back the clock over coffee | a (angsty but beautifully written)

Sea Star + Beside You @koyamuses - two shot [2/2] | 6.4k | pirate king!!taehyung, established relationship, LDR (he’s away at sea), kind of historical, childhood friends, fantasy, sex on a ship 👀, eventual proposal au, husband au | f, s

Trace the Colours of Our Skin @youmistme - drabble | 2.5k | artist au, blind date where they go naked and paint each other while interviewing/getting to know each other (like one of those Youtube, hurt/comfort fic | f

Under the Cloak @jungblue - one shot | 7.7k | Hogwarts AU, enemies to lovers (one-sided from OC), quidditch player!taehyung *gryffindor, tutor!reader, bet/dare themes (if he gets an A, agree on a date), use of the invisibility cloak for smutty purposes 😉 | s, slight f

Verboten @97erstan - one shot | 3.6k | cop!taehyung, best friend's boyfriend, twisted characters, themes of manipulation, plot twist | s

Your New Boss @dreamescapeswriting - one shot | 5k | CEO AU, Exes au, VP!Reader (but she doesn’t know about the new CEO which is really rare in reality but let’s assume Taehyung didn’t want the VPs to know about organization changes first), stuck in the elevator, kind of bad break up (accusations of cheating on her) | s, f

Waterloo @kinktae - one shot | 13k | slow burn, meet cute, strangers to lovers, artist!taehyung, art student!oc/reader, college au, vacation au, Paris setting, kind of tsundere-ish taehyung in the beginning, tourist au (oc toured him around so he can find inspiration) | f, a, implied s

(Un)welcomed Addition @joonscypher - one shot | 9k | neighbor au, one night stand, noona!reader, some form of bet/dare themes, college au, fuckboy!jungkook, OC/Reader already working, humor, really cute | f

A Night and a Year @dulce-jpm - one shot | 3.6k | briefly ex!yoongi x reader, arranged marriage au, past business scandal that led to cutting ties with Min family, Yoongi also broke up with her, arranged marriage with Jungkook to save “family” rep, ex-girlfriend!Sana, accused Jungkook of cheating, talks about this business/marriage | a, slight f (I still think these two deserve a drabble to see if they end up falling for each other 👀)

A Nugget of Comfort @madbutgloriouspond - drabble | 2.1k | established relationship, hurt/comfort fic, OC grieving over their pet hamster | f, a

Aftermath @whatifyoulivelikethat - one shot | 12.2k | exes au, stages of post-break up, accidental stalking from jungkook while OC is on a date, sub!jungkook | s

Anti-Romantic @chemicalpink - one shot | 4.7k | childhood friends, unrequited love (jk to oc), but his bestfriend *Sungho) ended up with oc, sungho actually cheating, oc revenge sex (with jungkook), bad decisions (like why OC why did you go through the wedding T_T) | s

Azaleas @randombtsprincessa - one shot | 9k | enemies to lovers (rivals), coworker au, lawyer au, hot intense lawyer!jungkook | f, s

The Bad Guy @ggukachuwu - drabble | 671 words | tattoo artist!jungkook x CEO!reader, bad boy!jungkook, secret identity (though we never know his work or why he is the bad guy) | a

Bittersweet @citrustan - one shot | 2.8k | ex-fwb, unrequited (oc to jungkook), falling out (oc didn’t know jk started to have serious relationship w someone else) | a

Castaway @hamsterclaw - one shot | 8.3k | enemies to lovers in the beginning, stranded au, beach au, survival au (plane crashed on a deserted island), strangers to lovers, humor, super cute ending | s, mild a, f

CEO Junior @mooniyooni - drabble | >3k | humor, strangers, son of CEO!Jungkook, office au, meet cute, music/artist but got stuck in office work, boss-employee | f

Comfortable, Bare, and Hungry @jinkookspencil - drabble | 2.6k | established relationship, boyfriend au, hurt/comfort fic, they ate pizza while naked | f, suggestive s

Denial = Desperation @adonis-koo - drabble | 3k | drabble from the series Wicked where Jungkook is just fantasizing about OC, series tags/genres ➡️arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, historical, royalty au | s

Drive @sunshinejoon - drabble | >1k | FWBs who are pining for each other, idiots to lovers, angsty beginning | a, f

Duty Before Love + Part 2 @blue-jade - two shot [2/2] | 10.4k | royalty au, agreed infidelity (jungkook’s wife chose OC/reader to be the child bearer), pregnancy au, historical, forbidden/star-crossed (royalty x servant!reader), unrequited love | a, s, f

Echoes of Love @moonlightchildz - one shot | 2.5k | exes au, break up au, jungkook broke up with OC and we don’t know why T_T, feat. best friend!taehyung | a, s, f

Exposed @getitinbusan - drabble | 2.1k | photographer!reader, dispatch photoshoot, idol!jungkook, tattooed!jungkook, pwp and really filthy | s

The Hardest Part @kimnjss - one shot | 2.5k | bestfriend au, unrequited (for OC), jungkook is getting married, extra angsty, something I probably read 3x now T_T | a

Heat Rises @dreamyjoons - drabble | 1.1k | boyfriend au, established relationship, pwp, hair pull + shower sex, that curly Jungkook from 5th Muster | s

Kinktober 2022: October 1 corruption kink with jeon jeongguk @seokgism - drabble | 3k | corruption kink, virgin!jungkook, experienced!oc, happens during the family dinner lol | s, pwp

Late Night Assignment @writeformesinpie - one shot | 2.7k | CEO!Jungkook, boss-employee, office au, OC/Reader has a date and Jungkook couldn’t function a bit at the thought lol, very funny banter and JK with wild exaggerated imagines about OC and her date, humor | s

Like Stars in a Constellation @taegills - one shot | 20.9k | sci-fi, star-crossed love, time travel au of sorts only they are meeting in reverse (one timeline is forward while the other is backward), strangers to lovers at one point, established relationship at one point, kind of bittersweet | a, f, s (implied)

The Love Bug @jungkxook - one shot | 20.6k | neighbor au, childhood friends (more on acquaintance), college, secret identity (duh, he’s spiderman), adaptation: spiderman au, superpower/superhero au, spiderman!jungkook | f, s

Lover Boy @ughseoks - drabble | <1k | humor, heartwarming, established relationship, lots of dick jokes lol, boyfriend!jungkook x oc in a romantic bath together (tub scenario) | f

Nanny @jjungkookislife - drabble | 700+ words | nanny!reader, single dad!jungkook, pwp| implied s

On Camera @agustdiv1ne - one shot | 3.1k | established relationship, boyfriend!jungkook, gamer au, youtuber!jungkook, pwp about jungkook recording their smutty moments | s

Ours @v-hope - drabble | 2.3k | best friend au, also childhood friends, now roommates in college, tooth-rotting fluff, domestic vibes, living with your best friend turned longing for exclusivity (just read my reaction I poured my entire giddy heart into it) | f

Pardon the Interruption @strawbkoo - one shot | 4.4k | established relationship, coworker seoyeon keeps interrupting their sexy time/moments, pwp | s

Perfect Coincidence @smilingleoo - one shot | 4.7k | DJ!reader, football team captain!jungkook, popular jungkook who was having an affair with the Math Teacher (uhm police alert 👀), party au (they did it on Hoseok’s couch), Hoseok is OC/Reader’s best friend and it’s his party | s, pwp

Picture Perfect @upinthestarsx3 - one shot | 879 words | best friend au, photographer!jungkook, needs to take photos of her nude for a magazine but turned smutty | s, pwp

Risk it All @httpjeon - series [5/5] | 14.1k | hybrid au, wolf!jungkook, I included this in the werewolf fic rec list though he’s not really a werewolf lol (he doesn’t shift), alpha!jungkook, a/b/o dynamics, predator-prey dynamics in this au, OC got thrown in a warehouse filled with predators and there’s also jungkook | f, a, s

Save You @mimikookie - drabble | 4k | supernatural, fantasy, post-apocalyptic, a bit of action, star-crossed vibes, archangel!jungkook x human!reader, it’s just intense and feels like some epic scene, war? (the angels were fighting and some creatures attacking humans), badass OC | a, f

SPF 50 @gimmeyoon - one shot | 10.6k | coworker au, strangers to friends to lovers, summer au, lifeguard!jungkook, slow burn, kind of bittersweet (because summer love stories usually are) | a, f, s

Strangers to Lovers @kissmetae - one shot | 3.2k | uhm strangers to lovers, gym crush!jungkook, gym setting, role playing | s, f

Symmetry @adriftmoonchild - one shot | 10k | enemies to lovers, fwb au, hogwarts au, mutual pining, secret relationship, rich!OC/reader, magic, kind of forbidden relationship (pure blood!oc x half-blood jungkook) and OC arranged to marry someone else | s, a, f

Vampire’s Kiss @immabiteyou - one shot | 4k | bartender!reader, bar au, vampire!jungkook, jk in all black | s

When We Were Sixteen @seokjiniwithluv - one shot | 10.3k | moments with jungkook told per year, best friend au, parts namjoon x reader & jungkook x hana, a bit taehyung x reader, high school to college to working, unrequited, falling out of some sort,jungkook leaving the country and friends jimin/taehyung checking on OC, angst with happy ending for OC | a, f

posted: 2022 Nov 5

link to other reading lists

other fic rec lists (by theme)

feel free to message me about fics! (leads to @ggukkiereads 🌷)

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jwirecs · 6 months

Text

RECOMMENDED NCT FICS OF NOVEMBER 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my nct recs of november! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Makeup, Make Out || @polarisjisung💕✅

↳ somewhere between testing eyeshadow palettes and mascara wands, renjun tests the prospect of loving you (i love me some soft renjun. soft renjun is prob in my top 5 fics to read about in nct. like how can you not enjoy reading soft renjun fics?????)

Ready For Love || @jnnul💕✅💯💯💯

↳ a boy who has never taken a relationship seriously. a girl who is seriously over relationships. when they end up finding each other, will they let their ideas of what a relationship should be like ruin their relationship before it even starts? (the concept of one person believing in one thing and the other person believing in another but they come to one accord to overcome the obstacle is amazing. literally as op has said in their warnings "match made in heaven", they truly are and i love that.)

Misses Suh? || @nctsplug02🔞💕✅💯

↳ (there was not exact summary, but if you remember the jeongs fics from this author then i present you the suhs. stop i freaking love these fics from them. i hope theres going to be more suhs.)

Silent Treatment || @polarisjisung💕💔✅

↳ your boyfriend broke some guy's nose for you, but what he doesn't realise is he also broke his promise to you (how does one give jeno the silent treatment???? easy, pretend to be oc cause thats what i did. LOL LIKE HOW CAN YOU GIVE THIS MAN THE SILENT TREATMENT. mans gonna be looking at you with them eyes and you are just gonna fold. gosh hes adorable and sht)

Trauma || @peanutpinet💕💔✅💯

↳ Being the son of the famous Nam Goongmin came with a heavy price to pay for Jaemin. Though Taeyong managed to get Jaemin out of his father’s mafia business and helped him to heal, there was still some trauma that Jaemin had yet to face. Until he came across a girl that he would soon learn that he can’t always run from his problems (the fact that the story lowkey connects with the other fics that they have is a gold mine. my ass is out here re-reading everything from the beginning aka the first one all the way to this one while i wait for the next one.)

Enough For You || @midmourn💔✅💯

↳ you wanted to be enough for mark, but no matter what you did, you weren't. (brb let me just sit in the corner real quick. stop, i need more angst nct fics to satisfy my angst side. like you can just feel the hurt that the oc is feeling, cause i know for a fact everyone has been through this once in their life time.)

I'm A Mouse, Duh! || @springseasonie🔞✅

↳ Nomin in police costumes and Y/N in a "mouse" costume (it's literally just lingerie). Will they fuck? Keep reading to find out! (1. i love the mean girls reference. that movie is a classic. 2. another roommate threesome, i may have a problem. BUT THATS FINE. this fic was hella good.)

I Wanna Make You Scream || @nctsplug02🔞✅💯💯💯

↳ (johnny in a scream mask?????????? sir???????? HELLOOOOOOOOO????? like god this fic is, oh child.)

Rent Is Due! || @starillusion13🔞✅💯

↳ (theres no summary, but do you know what else is due??? my insanity after reading this fic. like god dam. had to take a moment to breathe after finishing the fic.)

Strawberry Cough || @hazyhae🔞💕✅

↳ when your longtime bestie and plug moves out of town, he recommends one of his buddies to fill your weed needs. jaemin is glad to deliver that, and maybe even more. (the fact that jaemin automatically has a stock of the strawberry flavor for the oc is cute as sht. mans literally fell in love at first sight.)

The Day That I Met You I Started Dreaming || @nctstar💕✅💯

↳ You watched in satisfaction as the imprint of your lips stained a faded red colour, two semi-circles adorned by fine lines. The smell of strawberry wafted gently, so subtle you could have missed it. Yet, his voice rang in your ears. “You taste so sweet, baby. You always do.” (stop, i think this was one of the "long" jungwoo fics that i have read so far. i should start reading more jungwoo fics ngl. i honestly like how the story went. like it was at a good pace. not too rushed and not too slow, at the perfect pace. )

They're Roommate || @luvyeni🔞✅

↳ maybe those “jokes” your roommates play on you aren’t actually jokes (nomin threesome??? let me at it. lord have fcking mercy on me)

Young God || @jaeminvore🔞💕✅💯💯

↳ in which you were essentially scammed into cohabiting with a ridiculously clingy demon that lives off of sex. It could be worse. At least he staved off from sucking your soul out in exchange of you sucking something else—among other things (demon hyuck is a menace but hes a cute menace you know. hes gonna be like your bffl demon. i honestly fully enjoyed this one so much, like you dont understand. the mans a cute ass menace)

NCT 127 Texts || @phoxphenex💕✅💯

↳ Baby 127 Calling Dad on Tour (stop i cant wait for them to be parents. like these fans are gonna have to grow a pair of balls and suck it up that these mens are gonna be parents in the future. like can u imagine their kid just texting them. their kid will have them on their knees i swear.)

NCT Dream Texts || @jenosz💕✅💯

↳ Jeno boyfriend texts (the way that i fcking cackled at the first one. i cant, that was literal GOLD. ngl thats prob something i would say to my boo, if i had one LMAO)

NCT Dream Texts || @midmourn💕✅

↳ Your mom hasn't paid me this month (stop jisung would be the one to actually tell his mom. protect this lil sprout.)

8:57PM || @gyeomsweetgyeom💕✅

↳(faster/2 baddies era jaehyun has me on a fcking chokehold im not gonna lie.)

Do check out all of the other NCT Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

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dckweed · 2 months

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THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND, bob floyd

summary: In which bob floyd gets himself into a bit of a pickle and calls on his hot, recently single neighbor to help him out, the situation is mutually beneficial..in more ways than one.

warnings: fake dating, violence, domestic violence mentioned, nicknames, slowburn, eventual smut, reader has anxiety!

this is an x reader fic where reader is referred to as sunshine or sunny as a nickname, also i know the moodboard is a lil wonky no one say anything im gonna fix it! i made it on my phone half asleep lmao.

this took quite a bit to get out huh? lol anyway send in requests for bob and sunny if you have any my loves!

series masterlist here, series playlist here, comment on part one for the taglist!

PART THREE: bagman.

Purple and pink lights covered the dark stage, following your movements as you strode across it dressed in nothing but some white strappy heels with cute little cherries on them and a lacey red lingerie set. You had opted for a short wig that night, a blunt bob and in all honesty it made you feel like a whole new person as you stared out at the slightly crowded seating area next to the stage. Rowdy men were hollering already, slapping bills down onto the black top of the stage before you had even touched the pole yet, they were loving it.

Music starts and you block out the crowd, moving your body to the beat as you do a routine you’ve been practicing in the couple of weeks you’ve been off, wanting to change up your dances for your regulars a little bit. You dance for nearly five songs, your new routine a big hit amongst the crowd and as you stride off of it, stopping to shake your ass here and there in front of who you deemed as deserving gentlemen, picking up handfuls of bills every time you did. The stage was absolutely covered in them, and you couldn’t have been more thrilled. You were fairly certain that there was enough her for you to be able to call it a night if you wanted to, you knew your boss wouldn’t mind if you went home early, he was still iffy about you coming in with a bruise still showing anyway (even though you perfectly covered it with makeup). A stage hand passes you with a big bag as you make your way off stage, the lights off as they go to clear up the money that you couldn’t grab.

You were headed to the dressing room, needing a break after 5 songs but you’re stopped by your boss, Edwin. “You looked good out there Sunny,” He says an arm popping around your shoulder as the older gentlemen lead you away from the direction you were trying to go. You lean into him head on his shoulder. “Always a crowd pleaser, you are, you were missed during you time off.”

You smile at his words, despite his hard appearance Edwin was actually a really kind man and he had taken you under his wing when you first came to town, had given you your job illegally even though you had just barely turned 21 and because of it you had grown close. If Bob hadn’t come to your aid the night that your pice of shit ex boyfriend had gone to town on you, you know that Edwin would have (even though he was in the middle of running the club) and he almost did when you called him the next day to tell him what happened.

“I know it’s your first night back, and you wanted to take it easy,” He says, stopping you in the doorway just before the main floor of the club, where patrons were milling about as the stage hands finished clearing your set. “But you seemed to have caught the attention of one of those ship boys over there by the bar,” He points towards a group of them and you purse your lips, thanking god that none of them looked like Bobby from this angle. “Requested Ivy Wild for a private dance, told him you’re the boss when it comes to that..”

You sigh at the mention of being requested by name, looking back towards the dressing room. You weren’t sure how much you made from your stage appearance yet, not until you counted it, but you knew that if you did a half hour private dance that you’d walk away with three hundred at the least..you couldn’t say no to that kind of money.

“I’ll take him, put him in room four.” You say, before turning on your heel to head towards the dressing room. “I’m gonna go freshen up real quick before I head in there.”

The room is dark when you enter, nothing but a dim blue light around the ceiling to light up the room, casting shadows across the firm leather couches and the man lounging across them. You slink your way into the room, coy smile splaying across your lips.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing..” The man says, leaning back against the couch. He spreads his legs slightly as he does. He’s clad in dark jeans and a crisp white button up that is so tight you can practically see the outline of his abs through the fabric. You can’t see his face in the shadows but you can tell from his voice and the way he manspreads that he’s handsome, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little excited. “You gonna dance f’me?”

If you listened close enough he even sounded a little bit like Bobby and for some reason, that made your face flush. “You gonna follow the rules pretty boy?” You flirt, moving your hips to the music that was playing softly in the room, standing just barely in front of him. “You can look but you can’t touch, got it?”

“Whatever you say, hot stuff..” He seems to sigh almost dreamily as you start putting on a show for him.

You touch your body, letting your hands travel down it as you swing your hips to the beat, putting on a routine for him. Just as you’re about to give him a lap dance, ready to straddle your lean legs one either side of his thick thighs he reaches out for you, fingertips brushing the bare skin of your midriff. “Aht, Aht-” You say, pushing him back with your foot on his chest, your heel digging into the muscular expanse. “No touching, pretty boy..”

“You’re fuckin’ killin’ me here..”

When you leave the room fifteen minutes later, it’s with a self righteous smirk across your lips. You had made the man cum in his pants with your lap dance and you hadn’t even let him touch you, it was a rarity but you loved when it happened, it was quite the ego boost if you were being honest with yourself. You could have done without the three hundred and fifty that he had left for you and just rode the high of a stroked ego for the rest of the night, but you took it anyway and shoved it in the bag that the stage hands had left by your locker. You would count it out when you got home, you were ready to leave and you were positive you already made over a grand tonight, there was no need to stay other than to see to the other girls but they all seemed okay with themselves tonight.

You poke your head into Edwin’s office and bid him goodbye on your way out, making your way to the employee parking lot afterwards where you parked your car, It’s a surprisingly short drive home given the time, and when you park your car on the side of the street outside of the building, you’re surprised to see Bob out, Cosie’s leash in hand.

“Hey, Bobby!” You say cheerfully, hopping out of the car with your duffle bag and bag of cash in hand. He turns at hearing your voice, as though he was startled.

“Sunny, you getting home early or late?” Yeah, the man earlier sounded almost exactly like him, you think and can’t help but smile. He holds the door open for you and lets you walk in ahead of him after you stop and stoop down to pet Cosie.

“Early, told Edwin I wanted to take it easy..” You say, walking through the lobby of the building to the elevator with him. He hits the button for you too. You notice the way he looks at you when you mention Edwin and you remember that you never told him much about the club. “Edwin is the owner of the club, my boss..and he’s kind of like my dad in a way though thats a little weird to say because he sees me in lingerie all night..” You weren’t sure where the sudden rambling came from, perhaps it was a reaction to him putting his hand against your lower back to usher you into the elevator before him, or maybe it was the smell of his cologne that lingered in your nostrils but damn it made you feel nervous and giddy all at the same time.

He hums as he punches the button for your guys’ floor, adjusting the leash to his other hand as Cosie rubs against your legs. You were still clad in your strappy heels, feeling too impatient to stop and take them off. He does the thing with his hand again to user you off of the elevator before him and you just about die on the spot, what is it with you? Was gentlemanly behavior really that big of a thing for you?

Within a few moments you’re at your door, his just a few steps farther than yours and he stops, holding your bag without a word as you shove your key into the lock and bully the door open. You open your mouth to say goodnight but find yourself saying something else entirely. “Do you wanna come in? Help me count all this maybe?” You hold up the bag of cash, and he glances down at it, soft smile on his handsome face.

“Sure.” He finds himself saying, even though he has work in a few hours. You’re just so sweet with your damn eyes and flushed little cheeks that he can’t say no.

The next few hours are filled with him sitting with you on your living room floor, sprawled out in front of the couch, piles of money in front of the both of you. You had gone and changed into a small pair of pajama shorts with little red hearts on them and a white tank top, but not before having him take photos of your heeled feet for you so you could post it on your instagram.

“It’s almost four..” You whisper, your head leaned against his shoulder. You guys had stayed on the floor and you found yourself leaning against him as our eyes drooped, tired from you first day back at work but not wanting to fall asleep just yet. You listened to him tell you stories about his job, and you fell in love with how much he loved his job, how happy it made him.

“You sleepy, Sunny?” He murmurs, that Montana accent thick. He turns his head to look down at you, almost wishing that he hadn’t because from this angle and in this lighting he could pretty much see through your shirt and it was all he could do not to pop a boner right here next to you at the sight of your pert nipples and supple tits.

You hum in response, already on the cusp of unconsciousness. The last thing you remember is him shifting, his warm arm coming to wrap against your shoulder as if pulling him farther against him.

By the time you wake the next morning, he’s long gone, though he’s left you in his hoodie that you don’t remember putting on and with Cosie. You can’t help but pout at his absence, having found yourself more comfortable with someone you were fake dating than anyone you had ever actually dated. You were surprised that you had fallen asleep, that you hadn’t woken when he left and when you check your phone, you’re even more surprised to find a text message with a photo of a sleeping you attached, your head against his chest, eyes closed and peaceful..

Navy Dude: thought i would take something for my own instagram..see you tonight..

You couldn’t help but giggle, breathing in his scent as you read the message and immediately going to check his instagram account before making yourself busy for the rest of the day by taking Cosie on a long walk and doing your pilates work out in the living room, practically counting down the hours until he would arrive to take you to meet his friends. Your first official date as a fake couple.

You’re just struggling into a cute little yellow dress sun dress when you hear your door open and Cosie give a happy yip, with your arms cocked behind you, you glance towards your bedroom door, hearing his footsteps fall down the hallway. “Bobby?” You call out, almost a whine. “I can’t get my dress zipped..”

He’s in your room in a matter of seconds, his long and lithe body taking up your doorway. He’s in his service uniform, the tan khaki’s littered with different colors of pins that you would have to ask him about later. You thought he looked handsome in his uniform, but he looked downright drool worthy when he wore his flight suit home, though you assumed they hadn’t done any flying today.

“Let me help,” He murmurs as you stand in front of him. He bats your hands away before gently moving your loose hair over one shoulder, out of the way of the zip. “Dress looks real pretty..” His fingertips trail down the exposed skin of your back and you suck in a breath, chills going down your spine as they go up, up, up, stopping just between your shoulder blades.

“Do I look okay?” You ask softly, smoothing out the flowy skirt that just barely went past your mid-thigh as you turned to face him, looking up at the taller man. You had put on enough makeup to cover up what was left of your bruises, but not nearly as much as you had worn at work last night. You were meeting friends, there was no need to paint your face like you would at work. You weren’t sure if you should put on more though, you wanted to look okay for him, you wanted him to have his friends’ approval.

“You look gorgeous,” He murmurs, corners of his lips turning up as he looks down at you. You were practically chest to chest by that point, you would call it an almost intimate moment. His hand comes up from his side, fingertips grazing against the skin of your cheek before brushing your hair behind your ear, you blush as you notice yourself leaning into his touch slightly. “Think you look real pretty in yellow, Sunnygirl..”

“Thank you..” You breathe, not realizing that you had somehow moved close enough to him that your noses were practically touching, him stopped down towards you. It wouldn’t take much for your lips to brush together now, just lean into him a little farther, and you would have too if Cosie hadn’t barked from your feet, scaring you so badly that you jump about a foot in the air, cheeks flushing as you realize that you had been about to kiss him and he hadn’t even tried to stop you.

“Right, so,” You clear your throat, turning to go back to your closet for a pair of matching sandals. “Why don’t I go walk Cosie while you change and then I’ll meet you by your truck?”

“Oh, um, yeah, yeah,” He says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he turns, his own cheeks flushing red. “You do that, i’ll be right down..”

Nearly forty-five minutes later, he’s pulling his silverado into a parking spot near an old Bronco, throwing the shifter into park. You take in a deep breath, looking over at him. “This is it.” You say, the whole scheme that you two had cooked up finally feeling real to you. The man next to you nods, taking his keys from the ignition and shoving them down into his pocket. “Alright Bobby, let’s do this.”

The parking lot isn’t overly crowded, but the patrons inside the bar are loud as you walk up to it. Your nerves get the better of you the closer you get to the front doors, your hands shaking with anxiety and you try to channel it into smoothing down your dress skirt but it does no good. Bob notices though, and suddenly he’s sliding his much larger hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay, Sunny.” He says, and you smile up at him feeling like a fool. You hadn’t realized that your anxiety was so noticeable, you thought you had been better at hiding it.

Before you cn respond to him, he’s pushed open the doors of the bar, stepping in first to hold it open for you, his hand not leaving yours once. Almost immediately there’s a call of his name traveling throught he air and the sounds of chairs scraping and before you know it you’re surrounded by a few big, buff dudes and a bubbly girl who looks the most excited to meet you.

You do your rounds of introductions, Phoenix gives you a big hug, ripping your hand from Bob’s in the process and practically lifting you off of the ground, and though you’re meeting her under the guise of being his girlfriend, you know that you’re going to be good friends.

Rooster gives you a firm handshake, his ginormous hand enveloping yours as he smiles down at you. You take in his features, he’s quite handsome despite the scarring on his face (that you desperately want to ask questions about, though you keep it to yourself) and you notice the lack of a ring on his hand or on the dog tags looped around his neck, peaking out of the top of the white undershirt he had put on under his loose hawaiian shirt. You think he’d be a good match for one of your friends and you make a mental note to ask Bob about it later.

Coyote is gentle, and quite sweet but he’s a bit of a flirt and you feel yourself leaning more into Bob while you’re talking with him briefly, wanting it to look like you weren’t available (because technically to them, you weren’t). He introduces you to who you realize is one of his best friends next, Hangman, or as you had heard Bob call him, Bagman. He’s still wearing his uniform, and when he shakes your hand he gives you a charmingly sweet smile that you just know makes the girls weak in the knees, but when he talks to you? Your stomach drops to your knees.”Hey there, pretty thing..” He must know it too, because he smirks at you, that accent heavy.

You swallow thickly, turning to Bob. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink, I’ll be right back, baby..” You say, giving him a kiss on the cheek for show before heading over to the bar. “Shot of tequila, please..” You say to the woman tending bar, leaning against it as you let out a breath.

Bob’s friend was the man you had given a private dance to last night..the man who you had made cum in his own pants. How fucking bad could this get, you wondered? You hadn’t exactly lied when you told Bob’s friends that you were a dancer, you just hadn’t exactly specified what kind of dancing you did for a living, not expecting that one of his friends would be one of your customers.

She sets the shot glass down in front of you just as you feel a presence behind you, directly behind you. His body was solid and warm as he put his arms on either side of yours, boxing you in.

“Does he know?” His voice his quiet in your ear, making your body go stiff. You were uncomfortable, but you knew that he wasn’t going to hurt you or touch you in anyway.

“That I made you cum in your pants?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow as you turn to face him. His head was right next to yours, eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “No, Bagman, I don’t think he does, and I don’t think he needs to either.” You knock back your shot, the liquid sliding down your throat with ease. “Just like I don’t think your group of friends needs to know that you spent your sunday night getting a lap dance from a stripper, now do they?”

You must win whatever stand off this is because after a moment his moves his arms, letting you brush past him. You hear him ask for a round of beers from the woman, and to put your shot on his tab as you make your way back to Bob who gives you a questioning look, you realize he must have seen the whole encounter. You lean up to kiss his cheek as you come back, his arm going around your waist firmly as you whisper to him that you needed to tell him something when you guys got home. You honestly thought it was funny, but you were sure that he was going to be freaked out.

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cherubispunk · 5 months

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CHERUB (PART III) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering.

a note from Lucy: Well, this is it folks. The third and final instalment of the unholy trinity that is cherub. The fic that i had no idea would get this amount of traction. The fic that gave me my username, blog theme, the majority of my mutuals and the freedom to explore more taboo areas of writing that I never felt comfortable with doing before. I just wanted to thank you all for all the kind words you’ve shared with me. Comments, reblogs, messages, they all mean the utter world. But i also want to specifically thank @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin who was such a huge help for motivation when wrting each of these. She's been there since the first day of cherub and always let me obsess over dealer!joel with her. Ange, i love you baby. Out of all my fandom experiences, this has definitely been one of the best. I know this sounds a lot like a goodbye completely, but it's not i swear! I just never really knew where this was going, but I think this is a pretty good way to end the series and I hope you agree too. Part of me isn't ready to let go after such a short run, but I honestly have no idea where to go from here so I think I did it as much justice as I could. Regardless, Cherub and Dealer!Joel will forever have a place in my heart all thanks to you lovely lot! Your love means the world to me and you are all so easy to share this with, you've given me an environment to flourish creatively and I'm eternally grateful for that. I wish you all the love, hugs, kisses, and angel wishes in the world!

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wc: 5548 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! Unedited for now, no outbreak, no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, plot? what plot? we all know we're here for the porn anyway, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his late 50s), gore imagry, religious imagry, Smut, very dubcon in theory but both want it bad, grafic smut, P in V sex (unprotected — pleaseee don’t do tis irl i beg of you), teasing, sort of edging? (idk what to call it but he doesnt fuck you until you beg for it lol). nipple play, biting biting biting!!!!!, references to domestic violence, use of pet names, manipulative! joel, stupid stupid cherub, stockholm syndrome, oral (f receiving), cum eating, pussy slapping, Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk, overstimulation. Again, some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile vile vile porn I have written thus far…with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell, i have my own circle now. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

series m.list | m.list

The danger didn't lie in his hands. It didn't sit in his closed first to be suffocated. Choked out until the life of it was compressed. Until its face was blue, then purple and its eyes were bloodshot and streaked with red. The danger lay in your heart. And it thrived off the beating.

What is ‘it’, you ask? Mania.

The Greeks had it nailed down when they split love seven different ways. To the crucifix through its punctured and bleeding palms. All equal, but different. They understood that one love is different to the other. That love can be either obsession, or lingering in the quiet parts of a person's mind. You cannot hold up a mirror to one and deceive into believing it is another. No matter how sweet the lie seeps into the ear. They don't work that way. You were not Lucifer, you had no forked tongue. And your mania wasn't Eve. There was no apple to devour. Only the strong arm of Joel Miller to cling to like a noose.

Some love passionately. Find it in the scathing friction of flesh upon flesh. The heat two bodies make only in sex. You were no body anymore. Merely a corpse for him to dig up and breathe life into whenever he needed relief. So it was not Eros. Some love playfully. In the back and forth of a conversation that makes the mind and heart float in the clouds among the soul. Entwine them together until you are too sedated to know the difference between the three pillars of personal holy trinity. There was nothing lighthearted about Joel Miller. So there was no Ludus. Affection. The subtle, it-is-there-even-when-it-is-not weight of lovers hand in lovers hand. Joel clutched your throat with his heavy hand. He didn't lace your fingers in his like tapestry threads. And he was anything but friendly. So it could never be Philia. He was not unconditional. Familial. Constant. Committed. Long lasting. Selfless. He crept in through the backdoor and took. Then slipped back out. So the thick blood red line was drawn through Storge. Agape. Pragma. The love you had was not for yourself. Without him you hated yourself. Hated how you didn’t feel needed. Or wanted. So Philautia was buried six feet under hot earth, the final nail in the coffin that was lowered into the rotting, thick-with-decaying-mulch, stenching ground. By none other than Mania.

This was something you came to realise as you stumbled from his truck back to your room. His come dribbling down your leg. Luke asleep on the sofa. Months passed of the same thing. He’d take you home from work, only letting you go once he'd had his fill. Played out the sick fantasy from mind to matter, let it bleed through his fingers into fruition. You let it happen for mania. It was the thing inside you that kept you going. Before you thought mania fed off your heartbeat. But now you realised mania fed your heartbeat. The kick it got every second fired the next muted pulse. That's what kept it alive. Energy for energy. You were never one to bite the hand that feeds. That’s a sinner's duty.

—

The usual sight of Luke slumped in his lazy boy, guzzling beer was what you expected. The liquor once again swigged past his lips and dribbling down his stubbled chin. Wiry greying hair greasy on his head, balding. Thinning. Residue from a line on the coffee table. You were never tempted by it before. And you were determined never be a Angel dust statistic like him.

Instead, you opened the flimsy door of your trailer to see him hunched over a small collapsible table. His hand running over his sunken eyes, dragging purple eye bags down with his fingertips in shame. Cards in his other. It had your breath catching in your throat like a hare in a wire snare trap. This time around the small collapsible round table. Cards in his hand. And two other men shared a knowing glance and a grim smile of satisfaction. Him.

Joel Miller.

The tension was thicker than molasses in the room. You only wished it was as sweet. You swallowed it down thickly. It stretched your throat. You watched in morbid fascination when he lay his hand on the table in a fan for all to horror at, a sly smirk slithering over his lips and curling the one corner of it up like a scorpion's tail.

“Full house.”

“Fuck!” And Luke’s hand slapped the tabletop as he folded.

The door clicked. All three looked up to see you. Luke, Joel, and the man who held a familiar resemblance to your own personal devil. With eyes on you, you felt more like that hare in the snare than ever. Clapping eyes on the hungry wolf as mutton dripped bloody from his sneer. Cruel and hungry. You imagined him as that wolf, hyde thick and bristled under your soft fingers as he led you to some deep, dark, thorny place. A place only lit by the eyes of owls who observed while he had his way with you. Ripped your stockings to get to sweet fruit.

“Great, the cunt is home.” Luke spat to the room but you, looking over the table again as he bit his thumb nervously to the edge of the hangnail. “Get me a beer.” Your nostrils flared in defiance at his demand, knuckles pale as fingers furled into a fist. An army of goosebumps had stood to attention all along your arms and the back of your neck. A shiver shattering down your spine. Your heart had enough of its prison of your ribcage in your anger, ramming into it over and over in a frantic hammering. And when that wasn't enough, you felt it in your throat. Among the tightening of your airways. “You hear me girl?” He asked, looking at you. He stood, chair scraping against the floor and you staggered back to the point your shoulderblades hit the door. While he was a thin, wiry man, he had a vicious backhand that stung. Like a vengeful aftertaste. “Y’need me to beat some sense inta ya girl, huh?!” You dared to spare a glance at Joel who was too busy collecting his winnings. You soon to be among them.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, looking to the floor and cowering off to the kitchen to get him his beer.

“Y’short, Luke.” You heard from the doorway, straining to hear the tail end of the conversation. Something about your uncle having it by monday. And then Joel telling him he shouldn’t raise a bet he doesn't have the dough to cover.

It took a second to catch your breath. Tears strung in your eyes and your chest threatened to split in two. Your sternum felt like it was cracking down the middle into clean halves under the weight of your chest. A hand clasped over your quivering lips to bite back a horrible sob and muffle it. Only your palm could know you were crying miserably. So you took a beer from the fridge, heard the hiss as the lid gave way and popped off. It clattered to the linoleum and you bared your teeth at the grating sound, picking it up and tossing it in the bin.

“Here.” You mumbled, placing it unceremoniously on the table in front of Luke.

“Y’got any spare cash on you, girl?” Luke asked, beady eyes staring you down as he raised the bottle to his lips and took a drink. You grimaced inwardly at the sight of his yellow teeth when he made a satisfied sigh.

“No.”

Joel’s brow raised. You should know by now not to lie to a man who can read you like a book. That's the thing about narcissists. They have a way of being able to understand you like a one word sentence on paper. A quick glance and you’re unravelling with concealed meaning and connotation.

“C’mon, Cherub…gotta have something from workin’ this late in that diner of yours…” You dared to challenge Joel with a look. A look that retreated soon after the advance of the glare of his eye. The same glare of the hungry wolf. Of the cheated man. It was unkind, and unyielding, and did not hold mercy upon the souls of the enthralled, the damned, or the harrowed. You might try to cross through the sentence, or turn the page. Or shut the book entirely. But the truth is still the truth even when you chose not to look. This was the man that knew your mind. Knew your body. And coaxed his will out of you each time. His word was all it took to cave, so you took the folded bills from your apron, flicking through them with a bitten back scowl,

“How much does he owe you?” Joel smiled with amusement, counting through his winnings to see what was short.

“Ninety-eight.”

‘What?” you asked, eyes wide, hurt. Disheartened. Fingers stilling halfway through the small stack. And Joel smirked.

“You heard me, Cherub.”

“Give Joel his money.” Luke warned.

“But it’s not his money! And it’s not yours to give!” You tried, and saw the warning tick of your uncle's narrow jaw. It was always set on edge before he threw a hand. Cast a palm across your cheek in a brandishing. It had you cowering. Relenting. Tossing the money in front of him. If it fell to the floor in its flurry he could pick it up and grovel about it. But Joel never grovelled. Only relished. Then reminded Luke of the money he still owed for the drugs.

And you walked back to the kitchen, biting into your lip again. With the devil and your demon in the next room over, you were sure this could be hell. A buzz filled your ears. Like the constant thrum of flies over roadkill. In festering flesh wounds where broken white of bone poked through gaping, bleeding holes. Blood matted in the hyde of the animal helpless and scattered across the road. A leg here, smashed teeth there. You were the roadkill. Joel was at the wheel of that which mowed you down. Luke was howling in the passenger side.

His boots thumped clumsily over the linoleum and he let out a huff through his nose while he adjusted his low slung jeans in the doorway.

“Cherub?” He asked, clearing his throat huskily — a consequence of the smokes he used religiously. You stood with your back to him, palms flat to the countertop and head hung low to fight the sting of tears simmering from within.

“He threatened to hit me.” You whispered, not turning to face him. If you mattered his ears would strain to meet you halfway. “And you did nothing.”

“Come on, Cherub…don't be like that.” he sighed, and you imagined him pinching the bridge of his hooked nose.

“He took my money. You took my money. How am I gonna get out of here without it?” You croaked, your tired eyes seeing faces of gaping mouths and slate black eyes in the speckled linoleum of the counter.

No reply came from the door. And when you turned it was empty. He had left. The other man had left. The tv was on again with the scream of a woman murdered. And Luke fell asleep in his lazy boy.

—

Another day, another shift. And more horror ensued. At first, what set the nerves thrumming was there was no sign of Luke. His truck was gone from its spot. No drunk slumped on the worn leather settee. No scream or grotesque image on the TV. Merely an empty bottle on the coffee table.

You swallowed, shutting the door cautiously with a muffled click of the latch. You didn't dare call his name. Just pushed it down into your stomach for it to churn the thought up in acid. But the horror jumped back up your throat into a lurid scream at the sight of your mattress tossed to the side. The moth bitten pillowcase on the floor, void of money. Your money. Gone. Someone had rifled through your belongings. Turned your only space into a mess. Strewn clothes, bed sheets, pillows in their haste. All your work. All the nights of living off bitter coffee from the pot at work, scrounging together tips. It made you seethe. The heat was an inferno at your fingertips, nails embedding crescents into your palms. You searched all over for it. But to no avail.

When Uncle Luke came home, he smelled of hard liquor. It was a miracle – or curse – he hadn't wrapped his car around a tree. He gloated, and sneered, and shoved it down your throat in his intoxication that he’d found it under the mattress. Joel had called him, told him you planned on leaving. And he connected the dots. Ransacked your room. Oh, how the man would hate his loose lips when you gave him hellfire.

You expected Luke’s reaction. You knew if he were to ever find out he’d snatch it up in his greedy, grimy hands and take it for himself. He spent all of it. Paid his debt to Joel, gambled some on bad luck bets, drank with the rest. Slugged liquor down his throat and got drunk off your labour. And then left you on your floor with tear stained cheeks and a heart of heavy lead.

You wanted your money. But would you take from the man who gave you your everything? Your sense of being. A religion and faith. You believed in nothing more than the way he held your name between his teeth. You forgot what your real name felt like in the same place. And it occurred to you that he had never said it. Did he know it? You weren't them anymore. You were Cherub.

The sweet and mourning lamb in you wanted to go over just to be his again, and not carry out the plan of taking back what was yours. That which he would see as sin. You felt guilt claw up your throat at the thought alone. It seemed blasphemous to conspire against him. Why do you insist on protecting yourself. You who was the sacrificial lamb?

If you did go – and you let him have you again – you were whole. But at what cost? Could you stand another night of temporary hell under the guise of heaven. Of touch so cold, like ivory or black ice. To have him thumb your skin with blunt endearments and the croon of ‘cherub’ past his chapped lips. Definite like black and white. No escape. What he’d do and how. Whispering them in the stone deaf shells of your ears like they were a sculpture. Pygmalion’s Bride. He’d made you all you were today. Took chisel to marble and carved out his masterpiece. Cherub.

You were soft, and pliable. Wax heated by his flame. You kissed back. You moaned for him. Begged him for his release and not your own. Bruised with his handprint. The warmth of life under flesh. But without him…you returned to marble. Another pretty thing to be gawked at. He tempted you with it because he knew more than anyone, more than god himself who watches these exchanges, that you can't live without him. It was like telling a child not to slip off to the woods in the dead of night. That was a pointless warning. You knew what lay there anyway, what threat it would be. That wolf in his thick bristled hyde. Curled up in his den. You would see it as innocence and vulnerability if you weren't so scared. But you knew when he woke up the teeth would shine again. And they’d tear flesh. Let blood. Gnash bone. Dripping from the glaring white once he finished with your carcass. Your matter between them and your crimson lacing his gums. Who knew being eaten alive could be so pleasurable.

But then again, how could bering alone really be hell if the devil wasn't there?

There is mania in your body. But you can't get it out. It rattles in your head and lungs and glues to the backs of your gnashers. No matter how much you wish to spit it out. It infects your tongue. It welds itself to the matter of your bones. Melts into the cracks between your teeth. Claggy against your tongue. All to show the sweetest of words have the bitterest of tastes. You can feel it swell underneath your skin. In the gap between muscles where it festers and heats you up. Like fever it burns, like the fire that consumes and the pillars that hold the temple up crack, the ground shakes, and the beast rears its ugly head at you. You’re losing your body to him. It's a fight you try to win. You dare to. You give your all, tooth and nail each time in the gaps between. In the silence and hollow that nestles in the middle of the meetings. In the quiet, where no one is around but the cracked plaster of your room. You stopped caring who fired the gun first. You were always the one who got shot down in the end. Right in the stomach. Blood gurgling up your throat in a grotesque plea for help.

All these weeks you had shrunk yourself to the size of a bird in his hands, sang a sweet sweet song of his name, until the squeeze of his first closest off your throat. And the sound stopped altogether. Laid there after the warning. Patient while you had your wings clipped and your freedom taken. And he took more. Took the beating of your heart with his teeth. Took the will to want. The will to love. The will to need anything else, as well as the need to have better. Below you were the foundations. Only now you saw them for what they were, a decaying mess of fragments, the stench of wood rot hot in your nose. A musk like no other. His musk. So in your anger you took an axe to a willow to see how it would weep. You slipped past the sleeping drunk you call Uncle Luke. Out the door, over gravel, past the truck he coaxed you to without the need of a sweet treat. You’d yank the axe from the bark of the weeping willow, its sob echoing in the wind that rustled its drapery of lush green leaves. Leaves that will wilt as sap bleeds from its severed trunk. Take the axe to the wolf. Cut him. Scrotum to throat.

Take back what was yours. And leave those woods skipping.

—

Your knocks descend upon his door in quick raps until he opened it with a grumble. Then a smirk. “Evenin’, Cherub.”

No salvation. No going back. No space among the clouds. Just the fall. You pushed past him into his front room. “Where is it?’ You hissed, tossing the cushions of the couch up. Nothing there. So you left them on the floor and did the same for the airchair. Nothing there either.

“Woah, calm down, girl!’ Joel huffed, reaching for your arm, which you tugged back from him in a new found strength surging you forward, out of his arms. “Where’s what?”

“My damn money, Miller!” You bit back with venom laced spit. A hunger for revenge making you salivate like a bad dog.

“The fuck you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about, dickhead!” And he recoiled at your bared teeth, your verbal assault and battery, but went in for his own.

“Watch your damn foul language, girl!” He warned, reaching the end of his already short tether.

“You know how much he stole from me? Three hundred dollars of my hard earned chash. Forget my fucking ticket out of this shithole, I ain’t even paying rent now! And for what? Your god awful drugs!” His nostrils flared, and you watched the vein in his neck bulge under the sweltering heat of his own anger. Coiling inside him. Wounded bitch about to bite back.

“You didn’t have much of a probelm with my drugs after I fucked that pretty little hole of yours. All dumb and needy f’me, Cherub.” You grimaced at the sneer. But the feeling made your knees buckle. The name again. Cherub. You were Cherub. His cherub. “You want ya money back, huh? You can have it.”

That made you stutter. Thoughts skidding to halt at the sight of a brick wall. Crumpled matter as it smashed into it anyway. “What?”

“I ain't giving it to you for free though.”

“You're sick! It’s my fucking money!”

“Not in the eyes of the law its not.” And he folded his great oaks of arms over his chest in satisfaction. Once again one upping you.

“The eyes of the law? Says the fucking drug dealer. I bet you got way worse than coke in duffel over there. Wonder what the law would say about that?” It was said dismissively over your shoulder as you turned to leave. Alas, once again his large hand encompassed your wrist and squeezed. Pulled you back flush to his broad chest. His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered sweetly into your ear.

“Come on now, Cherub. You wouldn't do me in like that would ya? Not when I love ya…”

The way he said it…it didn't seem real. It was false. Comforting but not real. You knew it was a lie. This wasn't love. He didnt love. If he loved you he'd ask for your number then call you. Take you out. Let you cry on his shoulder and drive you home after. Kiss you in the dark for only the walls to see. Let you stay a night or two, or a whole damn week. Give you your damn money back. Stand up to Luke with a closed fist to the face. Leave swelling and a deep bruise on his cheekbone as a first and final warning.

“You love me?” You asked, voice small and hollow in your chest.

“Yeah, Cherub. I love you too.” He cooed, as if he knew you loved him already. All this and nose running over the curve of the side of your neck, tongue trailing hot in pursuit, it had you keeling over in confession at his feet. “You’re so cute when you're angry. Come on now, lemme make those tears go away…and you can have your money back, and we can forget this ever happened.” That tone…it was patronising. It made the sense in you rattle the cage of your ribs. Claw at the bars of bone and run into them like a caged animal. Because that’s what it was. A caged animal. But your heart was holding its hand over its mouth in a trance as it let his words ebb deeper. Somewhere between desperate and divine. But what was his motive?

God, Jesus, all above that is holy, you didn't care! After all this time, it was still no secret, or hushed uttering that Joel Miller was now everywhere in you. Scraping the backs of your teeth, festering like a virus in your bloodstream. Melding to the marrow of your bones. The walls of your cunt.

He still had a devastating habit of seeping through the cracks of your closed lids. Still ready to pillage and plunder his way through your head in its numbed state of sleep. When you could have finally— finally stopped and not felt. But he ebbs deeper. Always would. Always will.

It's what got you here. It would end you if it could. Snuff out your heartbeat and the fire inside of you. All he need do was lick his fingers and press them to the wick. And leave the smoke to string out and curl. You thought you were hungry for love before. But now you realised you were just hungry for the sight of your blood on his lips. The gnashing of you between his teeth. The curl you made of his brow. If it wasn’t devastating, reaping its agony in your silly little fractured chest— you didn’t dare need, nor crave it. You came for the pleasure but you stayed for the pain. And he took again, and again.

So you let him ‘make it up to you’. Let him claw at your clothes until they were scraps on the floor. Tore your stockings. Showed you those gleaming teeth. The wolf. And you, his sacrificial lamb. His Cherub.

“Feel that?’ He asked, with the slow drag back and forth of him inside you, parting you. This wasn’t fast, or rough. This was slow. And it made you need more. Need it faster. Need him hurtling you towards the edge of harrowing oblivion. He knew that. It’s why he took his time with it this time around. “Yeah. You do.” Joel answered for you. You never had to answer. But often he made you say it from your own quivering lips. Just to have the taste of the words from your tongue bleed into his. The neverending praise. “Why would you wanna leave that Cherub?” You couldn't answer, only let out a soft sob. “Huh? Answer me, Cherub. Why’d you wanna fuckin’ leave that?” And he punctuated it with pulling out to the bulbous head of his clock, then slamming back in with one sharp thrust. And then he was still.

You whined a shallow gasp into his mouth. But he didn’t kiss you. Joel never kissed you. His teeth sinking into your bottom lip shut you right up before his tongue delved deeper into it. The thumb of the hand that slithered between your legs rolled over your clit, making you mewl over the buzz of electricity causing you to clamp down on his thick, full cock. You were so eager for more. Anything more than what he was giving you. He smirked into your mouth when he felt your hips buck forward, trying your damn hardest to push his cock deeper into you. Silly little cherub. You should know better than to defy God. “See? Felt good didn’t it?” You nodded as much as you could in your current piston.

“Mhm.”

“See what you can have if you stay. Why fight it cherub?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“You gonna listen then, Cherub?”

“Yes. Yes! I’ll listen, just-” You shuddered at the thought of it, tears brimming at the the threshold of your eye. ”Please.”

“Say it.” He waited, wanting you to beg for it in the pretty way he knew you could. The choir voice. The songbirds hymn. The whole time his eyes did nothing but stare you down hungry at the sight of you falling apart from nothing but a hand to your throat and a single his throbbing dick buried in your aching cunt. It all pooled down into your centre, creating a rush your head had trouble keeping up with. “Tell me why you wanted to leave.”

“I dunno-” You stuttered, once again rolling your hips up. His hand at your throat pressed into your skin again, harder. It choked you. It had you drawing in a sharp, meagre breath. And he pulled out, running the underside of himself through the hot, drooling seam of your cunt. You shivered when the tip brushed up to your clit momentarily. The bead of precome at his slit smearing into your sex, mixing with your slick. “I dunno, Joel. I- I just wanted my money. I just wanted out. I hate it.” You babbled through closed eyes, chest heaving with sobs, and hot tears ran thick down your flushed cheeks.

“You hate it, huh?” He mocked and crooned, still catching your clit with the tip of his cock, hips waxing and waning in a slow roll. “You hate me too?” He knew the answer. But again, it was the satisfaction of knowing you were wrapped around his finger. Ready to bend over backwards for him. Him seeping into you through the cracks of your ribs, the gaps between your teeth. The opening of yourself to the twisting knot of denial within you. Your back arched like the lofty roof of a chapel, legs parting like its heavy doors. He followed you with hunger. You opened your mouth to speak but he squeezed momentarily on your throat again, oxygen starvation and the smell of him dizzying you. He relished in the whimper that he garnered from you. That and how he left you breathless just from his cruel touch.

“No.” You garbled as his thumb unhinged your jaw. Saliva in your mouth pooling while his thumb pressed your tongue down, bitter with a smokers telltale tobacco staining. It slipped past your lips, dribbled down his digits making a sticky mess at the curve of his thick wrist. He drew up a glob of saliva in his throat, watching as it drooled thickly, gluttonously, past his lips into your waiting mouth. He watched as you gagged on it, and then he let your jaw go so you could close your mouth. You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste on your tongue. For what did it matter anymore? One day, you’ll be nothing but dust. Bronchioles in lungs will mimic roots. Navels will copy trunks. Organs will feed worms. Ribs will fossilise and lips that are kissed will mould back to Mother Nature. It's all you have ever been. Quick. Convenient. Easy to please, eager to help. Waiting lips, wanting cunt. Warm, never warm enough. But he kept you like a butterfly in a glass jar. He let you see freedom but never experience it. Why need it when you had the stretch of him inside you. The feeling of him, heat to heat with your sex.

“You want this, cherub? Wanna be stuffed full of me again?”

“Always wanted it, Joel.” You mumbled into his mouth, sniffing back the last this spurt of tears, hypnotised. His hand wrapped around his cock, the large splay of his palm did nothing to dwarf its size with he jacked himself once, twice, three times to the sight of you. He squeezed the base with hiss, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth after cursing under his bated breath. He was thick, flushed, the tip swollen and leaking, drooling greedily with a rivulet of precum down the underside of his length. He trod a path with his hands down to your breasts, kneading each one between his palms with a pinch before guiding himself back into the mouth of your heat, your cunt swallowing him down to the base. The needy roll of your hips into his showed just how desperate you were. He groaned at the start of the friction between you, and slowly dragged back out of you, moving just as slowly back inside. He repeated this twice, and then he let loose. The motion turned into a needy clash of his hips to yours. Again. Again. Again. Somewhere along the sting of passion and heat, his hand wrapped around your throat, feeling the flex of it as you swallowed under his palm. He bit down into your neck, reaching out from you as his hips slammed erratically. His heavy balls slapping against your ass with each rut forward of his unrelenting. The way he fucked you, was like holding a knife to your throat. It grounded you in the most harrowing way to each of his breaths. His panting in your ear. It swallowed you whole. Mad your legs wrap around his waist and your hips keen up into him.

Your cunt drooled down his shaft, down to the base, down the sensitive skin of his cock. He growled and hissed in your ear, teeth closing around your earlobe, his hand dragging back up and grip tightening around your neck. Getting off on the feeling of your pulse under his thumb.

You felt the knot tighten. And tighten. Right in the pit of your stomach, deep in your sopping wet cunt where the mouth of your cervix met his fucking. The walls of your cunt sucking him back in as the angle of his hips snapped up into the spot that had you seeing entire constellations. They darted to and fro across your vision. It blurred the edge, spots of dark matter, deep black, the colour of oblivion slinging over the back of your eyes that now burned with tears of pleasure. His fingers dug deeper into malleable flesh, gripped tightly at your hip with his free hand, thumb brushing over your hip bone down your mound to toy with your clit after a slap to it. And it was the action that sent you spiralling, babbling his name nonsensically among a string of curse words. So pretty and fucked out beneath him. Joel couldn’t help but stare smugly as your eyes rolled back into your head when your orgasm hit like a freight train. He came undone soon after, his climax hitting a crescendo with a growl bitten into your shoulder, bruising and brandishing you with his mark again.

He pulled back, leaving you to the mercy of the cold. Watching was his hips moved again to fuck his release back into you. Your hole quivered in protest, and you squirmed under him. “Don’t be fucking ungreatful now, Cherub.” You relented, going still and boneless on the mattress. Limbs unfurling from their tension. “That's it. Take it. Take it all.” He groaned smoothly. Just like the roll of his hips. He fucked it slowly back into you. And you took his release inside you to keep. “Good girl, Cherub.” He whispered, kissing your lips in a tender dichotomy. Not letting you rest until he was satisfied you took every drop of him. Afterall, it was all you’d have left of him until he next chose to pick you up. All the while, he trailed his tongue back down to your breasts, pressing the flat of it to your nipple, drawing it with a sharp suck into his mouth. Pressing the blunt of his teeth into your flesh. Letting the taste melt on his tongue. Salty with your sweat. He did the same to the others. When he went soft inside of you, and his hips stilled. He slipped out of you with hitched breath, the pad of his fingertips tracing your abused, used sex. Your legs twitching when he rolled your clit under two fingers. “I said stop squirming.” He grunted, landing another slap to your pussy. It made an obscene wet sound. His come dribbling out slowly.

“Open your mouth.” Joel commanded, and you did. Waiting for whatever he had planned. He licked a hot strip from your asshole to your cunt, pressing his tongue in to drag out some of his release. And he climbed back up to spit it into your mouth. A hand clamping down on your jaw. “Don’t swallow. Close your mouth.” And you did with the side of his thumb clamping it shut for you. “Taste that?” You nodded in response. It was hot, heavy and thick and salty to taste. Divine. “Show me.” You opened again, his creamy spend diluted amongst your saliva and he smirked. Clamping your jaw shut again. “Swallow.”

Joel watched in open mouthed amusement as the delicate column of your throat rippled under muscle contract. “Good girl, Cherub. Remember that taste next time y’feel like leaving again.” He warned in a growl. And you nodded, swallowing your pride. Your fear. Your mania aiding in shoving it down your throat to dissolve in acid. Once again you were in those deep dark woods. The one where the wolf lay. Remnants of you in his teeth. The willow is still weeping, slashed in half. The axe free of his bloodshed by the entrance of his den. The owls' eyes still lit the scene of sin where overhead the starlight was snuffed out by the tangle of branches thick in their black greenery.

You never got your money back. Maybe one day you'd get out of this town. But the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering. Even angels can’t resist a slice of that heaven. Fallen angel. Wounded bitch. Cherub.

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leighsartworks216 · 7 months

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Feel Good

Astarion x transmasc!Tav/Reader x Gale Dekarios

Requested by Dirtyramen on AO3:

“can I request a fic abt Astarion just being soft/caretake-ish to Tav while they recovery from top surgery? (or, I guess whatever might be the equivalent to it in the world of baldurs gate haha) maybeeeeee in a poly relation with gale if it tickles your fancy?

-also if Tara could be mentioned somewhere that would be adorable but not at all necessary, I just love her LOL-“

Gale may be OOC in this, I've never really written him before, but it felt right to have him there

Title is based on "Feel Good" by Ryan Nealon. Doesn't fit 100%, but I feel like this could be a good reference to how Tav felt before their magical top surgery

Warnings: mentions of chest scars, insecurity, mentions/references to dysphoria, crying, implied sexual antics at the end

Word Count: 1,699

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

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You can’t stop staring at your body in the mirror. Just behind the protective bandages lay the chest you’ve dreamed of having - and it terrifies you. What if it came out wrong? What if you hated it? What if having a flat chest makes you feel worse about your body? The thoughts spiral, questioning every single thing you thought you knew about yourself. You frown at your reflection.

Hands on your hips startle you from your mind, as soft lips against the back of your neck chuckle. Astarion - forever the rogue.

“Admiring yourself, my love?” he teased.

You sigh. You wish you were. You wish you just knew what it looked like. Just a little peek and surely you’d feel better about it all. He rests his chin on your shoulder when you don’t speak, smoothing his hands over your stomach, just below the wrappings. You rest your hands over his, focusing on your reflection’s hovering hands as you run your fingers against his prominent veins.

“What if I don’t like it?” you whisper. “What if I was wrong?”

“Darling, you’ve been gushing over this for months. Why are you worried now?”

“I just…” You dare to raise your eyes to your chest again. Flat. Years and years spent hating your chest, crying and spitting vitriol at yourself for how it made you feel. “I just want to feel okay in my body, Star,” you finally admit, to yourself and your partner. “What if this isn’t it? What if it doesn’t help?”

He hums, considering. “It seemed easy enough to magic your breasts away, I’m sure Gale could find some spell that would bring them back.”

You chuckle despite the emotions in your chest. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” Your hands slide off his as he turns you around, away from the mirror. “The worst that could happen is you don’t like it. And if that happens - which I don’t believe it will for a second - we’ll help you find what’s right. Until you’re comfortable.”

You can’t stop the grin that tugs at your lips. “You can be really sweet when you want to be.”

He smirks. “Don’t tell anybody.” He gives you a quick kiss, though you can feel how reluctant he is to pull away. “Now, come on, off to bed. You’re supposed to be resting.”

“What are you, my mother?” Despite your words, you follow along with him easily as he leads you by the hand through the tower back to your bedroom, only a few doors down. You had a mirror, of course, but this was the only full-body mirror in the place. Gale kept saying he would move it to your room, but he always got sidetracked, always distracted by new questions that needed answers.

Astarion had his reservations of living with the wizard at first, but even he couldn’t deny how comfortable it was here. It was far better than any other option available to him at the time. Not to mention he was always around if Gale had any ideas on how to cure his undead affliction.

And, well, perhaps he didn’t completely despise him, but the world would burn before he ever admitted it.

He leads you through your door, as natural as though it were his own bedroom. He did have his own, but, truthfully, he much preferred spending time in yours. When he wasn’t perusing the wide collection of books scattered in mostly-organized shelves and piles, that is.

He lets go of your hand to open your blankets, and he helps you slide under them so you can lay on your back. He crawls in after you. You’ve learned to scoot over a bit beforehand, so he’s not constantly shifting to avoid falling off the edge, or whining about the blanket not covering his ass, all because he refuses to go around and lay on the other, wide-open half of the bed.

His arms wrap snugly around your waist, though he refrains from resting his head on your chest as he normally would, opting instead to curl into your side, resting his head on your shoulder by your neck. There’d be plenty of time for proper cuddles once you were fully recovered. Unable to roll to your side, you opt to tangle a hand in his hair and rest the other on his arm. It wasn’t the same, but it was comfortable nonetheless.

“A few more hours, Gale will return, and you’ll get to see,” he murmurs against your skin. He presses a kiss below your jaw. “And I’ll get to see you, my handsome man.”

The phrase makes you flush. He smiles when he hears your heart beat faster. You let out a slow, shaky breath. “He needs to get back sooner.”

He chuckles, but says nothing more. You tilt your head to rest against his and close your eyes. Visions of your chest before mixed with fantasies of what it looked like now. It was still so difficult to grasp the fact it truly was flat. Whenever Astarion would help you change into fresh clothes (after he gently wipes you down with a damp sponge, as you are unable to bathe until the bandages are removed), you’d have a moment of confusion when you flipped through the stack of folded clothes and didn’t find a bra. In fact, you’d gotten rid of them all right after your procedure. Gale had to stop you (and Astarion) from lighting them on fire as celebration.

With the images, your anxiety spikes again. It’ll be fine, you know it will be… By what if it isn’t? You want to relax into a nap, pass the time warm and comfortable with your vampire partner until Gale got back, but your mind would not let you.

You sigh in frustration. You press your lips to his head as you quietly murmur, “Will you read to me?”

He sighs, too, long and dramatic. He only half means it. He truly does not like having to pull away from you to sit up, but he does quite enjoy flipping open the book from the side table and continuing the story where you left off. You press your face into his side and he combs his fingers through your hair mindlessly as he weaves a tale of romance and intrigue. He doesn’t stop reading until he is certain you are asleep.

You cover your eyes, elbows lifted to the sides. You can barely stay still, rocking back and forth between your feet and fighting not to bounce on your heels. You groan. “Are you almost done?”

Gale huffs a laugh. You can feel it ghost along the back of your neck. “Patience, dear. You’ll see soon enough.” His fingers finally work out the knot in the bandages, and you almost gasp as he unwraps them from your body.

The air feels odd against the clammy skin. Even weirder is the feeling of his warm hand pressing supportively in between your shoulder blades.

“Okay. You can look now.”

You take a breath in. You lowered your hands to your sides, but taking that final step felt overwhelming. Gale’s thumb rubbed against your skin, silently encouraging you, as Astarion came to your side to hold your hand. It was now or never.

It takes a moment for your brain to process. It’s so different. You step closer to the mirror. They let you go, standing back and watching with wide grins. (You can see Gale’s proud smile in the mirror, but you don’t pay him much mind.) You turn to the side. Flat. You delicately brush your hands over your chest. Flat. Tears well in your eyes. You try to blink them away so you can watch as you trace a finger over the scars left behind. The magic was experimental, Gale had worried it would leave a larger mark, but he trusted the Weave more than any surgeon.

A wide smile overwhelms your face as you laugh. A weight has been lifted off your chest, literally and metaphorically. You feel like you can breathe looking at the figure before you. You don’t feel dread looking at your chest anymore. You can’t fight the tears anymore as they pour freely down your cheeks, carrying years of dysphoria with them and leaving trails of relief behind.

You turn and rush straight to your partners, wrapping your arms around them and pulling yourself as close as possible. Gale’s hand rested at the back of your neck as his other held your hip. Astarion stroked comforting shapes into your spine. A gasping sob wracked your body.

“Are you alright, my love?” Astarion asks gently. “Is it alright?”

You laugh again, nodding eagerly. “It’s perfect. It’s perfect,” you gasp between your emotions. You pull away and wipe at your eyes, but when you look down at your chest again they come in another wave. “Oh my gods, look at me.”

“I’m having a rather hard time taking my eyes off of you,” Gale teases.

Astarion chuckles, receiving a quirked brow from the wizard he did not want to address. “I hate to say I told you so, but… You look absolutely stunning, my handsome man.”

“Hm, you’ll have to share that moniker, you know.” Gale smirks as the vampire scowls. “Our handsome man.”

You sniffle, trying futilely to dry your face. “If you keep saying that, I’m gonna cry again,” you joke, but they know you’re right. You gasp and light up. They don’t have time to ask what’s wrong before you’re rushing out of the room, shouting, “I have to tell Tara! Tara! Where are you?! My bandages are off!”

They smile fondly, listening as your voice becomes more distant. Astarion turns mischievously toward the wizard. “Sooo, how much longer does our darling have to rest now?”

“Well, he should avoid any strenuous activities for another week, at least. Why? What did you have in mind?”

“Hm. Would laying down, receiving endless praise from his two partners while we lavish his body with generous care and attention count as strenuous?”

Gale thought for a moment. “If he’s laying down…”

Astarion smirked deviously. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding.”

---

Tag List:

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be-my-ally · 1 year

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Big Bunny

Playboy Bunny Reader x Elvis on the Playboy jet request

it might be 3:30am here, i may have work today at 9 and i may have to proof read over this again tomorrow but still, here, have a bunny themed fic - very apt for a slightly (at least for where i am) belated good friday gift (for those who celebrate and a spring themed passover/ramadan/weekend gift for everyone else) !!

I genuinely did not expect to end up doing nearly as much research for this as I did - and therefore there ended up being significantly more back story than I anticipated for what I had planned to be a short smutty one shot lol so… here’s a p ridiculous 9.8k fill xx

pairing: jet bunny reader x 1973-4 elvis (yes we are going that specific this time) - early big daddy era.

summary: freshly hired shy new playboy bunny reader and elvis get up to some fun away from the other passengers on Hugh Hefner's private plane, the aptly named 'Big Bunny'.

warnings: 18+, 18+, penetrative sex (p in v), oral (v receiving), lil bit of fingering, gratuitous use of the term 'bunny' and all accompanying euphemisms, elvis (as always in my writing) refers to himself as daddy.

wc: 9.8k

You nervously adjust your scarf around your neck; it’s windy, and you’re worried about your hair—that its carefully styled easy look might be ruined by the breeze. You roll from one foot to the other in anticipation; you can already feel the leather of the new, tall boot starting to rub behind your knee, and you’re hopeful for the chance to switch it out for your regular heels on board. The other girls are quiet, and that’s how you can tell that they too are nervous or excited—anticipatory perhaps. Usually, they would be chattering away right now—at least, that’s your experience from the last few flights you’d worked. But for some reason, the knowledge of this special guest had made them all fall silent, worrying their scarves or hair, and checking one another’s lipsticks, even more so than when Hugh was on board. Perhaps it was, like the Bunny bible said, because there was the knowledge that you were all representatives of the brand, and that was even more true for someone who wasn’t the owner of the brand, or perhaps it was simply because it wasn’t just any boring old investor but Elvis Presley flying on board today.

You’re all too young to remember much of him in his early prime or his dizzying launch to success, but you know that every girl in this line-up had watched the ’68 special, probably at a similar formative age to you, and had an experience; it had been impossible not to. You had been on the cusp of being 16 and were utterly gobsmacked and captivated by the television set as you watched him gyrate in a full black leather suit. Your mind had gone blank, and you couldn’t have told anyone what your father had said about it—you honestly couldn’t hear him because you were so shocked and excited by what you were seeing. Suddenly, you understood. You’d all discussed the marvel of the possibilities of the use of the satellites for the Aloha show only a few months ago, and you knew you weren’t the only bunny in the group who still found him almost alarmingly attractive. The concept, therefore, of being loaned out to him with the plane made you more than a little nervous. Another fragment of your anxiety for this flight also revolved around your new uniform—you weren’t comfortable in it yet; a teeny leatherette dress that somehow seemed far more revealing than your corset had ever seemed. Perhaps because it felt less like a costume in some way, perhaps because it simply was so unlike anything you would wear in day-to-day life—the over-the-knee boots were uncomfortable still too.

It’s unclear how you’d become so attached to the little corset costume when you were still so new to the plane and to this life as a whole. You’d been well-trained and ready to use your newfound, extensive bar knowledge while working as a table bunny in the club in LA. Although you had hoped that you might be spotted and bumped up to a more senior position in a little while—that one day you might be able to work your way up to the mansion or maybe even be handpicked to be a playmate—it all seemed so glamorous, and the attention was so exciting. You’d never dreamed you would, after only working a month, be handpicked as a jet bunny. It had been one of the most exciting moments of your life. Since then, you’ve not been flying for very long, although the training had been intense and your first flight had only been two weeks ago. And it had been a pretty slow start, with just Hugh and a couple of colleagues on board. They had their favourites, and while you had been chatted to and flirted with—treated well—you had also been mostly ignored.

Elvis, as far as you could tell, didn’t have favourites; he hadn’t requested anyone in particular from the thirty or so girls on regular rotation for the jet, and it made you relieved to think that you were on a mostly even keel with the other girls. You’d gossiped about it as you packed your bags onto the plane before you’d all ended up where you were now: standing in a row waiting for him to pull up, having been given word that he was mere minutes away. When you looked down at the other girls, you couldn’t help but wonder why, as one man with a small entourage for the flight, he really needed the bunny equivalent of five stewardesses. But, you think to yourself, at least he did because, as the most junior of the bunch, you definitely would have been the first to be bumped from the flight.

It’s only another few minutes until his long, sleek, white Cadillac pulls up in front, another car close behind, and his long legs are immediately sliding out of the car, almost before its even come to a complete stop. He seems eager to be away. He’s arguing with someone and barely acknowledges any of you as he starts to storm up the stairs towards the jet entrance—clearly familiar with the plane already. It becomes pretty clear pretty quickly that he wasn’t arguing with someone physically with him but was instead recounting what had been discussed on the phone in the car—you could hear him swearing as he went inside,

"I fuckin’ asked her to come out here with me, and now she’s being all cold, just then she was sayin’ she don’t wanna see me -" You can’t hear anything more, and you look down the row before Darla in front shrugs her shoulders and starts greeting the other couple of men still coming out of the car, and in the car behind, there were around a dozen guys in total, no women other than you five, which wasn’t unusual on the jet but wasn't entirely expected either.

A moment later, Elvis is hurrying back down the stairs, panting slightly as he comes. He arrives back in front of you, the last in line, with a series of apologies.

"Lord, where are my manners? I’m so sorry, girls. Hello, nice to meet ya; well, aren’t you all pretty little things?" You blush, and he catches your eye, winking at you as he presses a kiss to your cheek. He smiles at the rest of them, and Darla launches into her ‘Welcome to Big Bunny’ spiel as she directs him back up the way he just came. Your mind is racing as you follow them all up the stairs, and you’re more than a little distracted as you close the door and conduct the safety checks. Does that mean something? That he singled you out?

You weren’t meant to be his main assistant; of course, the main focus for today was keeping him happy, but you’d been specifically told that your purpose was to make sure the other passengers felt that they were getting similar attention. You didn’t have the experience, as Darla had told you, to understand how to deal with men like him. Those that think they’re special or that just because you’re wearing a bunny outfit they have some sort of claim on you, that you’re all the same and your centrefold is owed to them. And also, she’d flippantly added, you were still very inexperienced, and first and foremost she had to consider the brand. Now as you watch her take his arm up the stairs, you think you might be understanding her motivations a little more; her hips swaying more than they usually would. But you can’t say you blame her or that her other observations were wrong. You were inexperienced, both in flying and with men. But, as you’re locking the door shut and heading around to fetch towels and drinks before the pilots engage the engine, you can feel his eyes on you, and you think, I know what that means.

It’s a pretty long flight for a domestic flight—four or five hours, depending on the route the pilot takes—so you have plenty of time to get to know the passengers and ensure they’re all well taken care of. You’ve heard rumours from some of the other girls that this kind of flight can often go one of two ways: either the men are rowdy, raucous, and handsy, or they’re quiet, appreciative, but distant. You had assumed Elvis and his entourage would be the former, but from the way he quickly gets himself situated and settled in the forward compartment, you’re inclined to believe it will be the latter. You can’t help but notice he’s sequestered himself in the back; a couple of the men are with him, but the rest are a series of seats away. It seems like even the inner circle has an inner circle.

Before serving the drinks, you have a chance to look over at him. Trying to be inconspicuous, you’re surprised at how large he is. You’ve never realised how tall he really is, but he’d remained a few inches taller than you even in your heels, and while the plane is more spacious and furnished less compactly than the average, it still serves to make him seem bigger in contrast to the environment. He seems to take up more space than his body needs too, like his presence needs allowance; he looks incapable of staying on one seat, and the way he spreads his legs, his knees falling open, it’s like he doesn’t even realise he might be taking up more than his fair share of space.

You don’t realise how long you’ve been standing there, peering behind a partition wall, pretty much directly at his spread thighs. Until you move your eyes up, tracking up his body past his famously large belt to his open collared shirt, through which you can see tiny wisps of chest hair peeking through. You assess how his shirt is lying on him, clinging but well-tailored, and his trousers too, tight around his thighs and well-fitted on his waist but equally well-tailored, looking comfortable and well-fitted. Your eyes continue to roam over him until they come to rest on his face, and you realise he’s been watching you look at him. He’s smirking at you, clearly used to the attention but perhaps still flattered that he inspires it, and winks through his lavender-coloured glasses. You immediately duck back, taking a moment to gather yourself from the embarrassment of being caught out, before heading back out with the first tray of drinks.

It wasn’t your place to be, but you couldn’t help but be pleased when he showed himself not to be the type to start demanding wildly complicated cocktails—in fact, rolling his eyes when one of the men, Red, perhaps his name was, asked for a mai tai—and at his clear desire to remain sober, simply requesting a Pepsi. You take a breath, plastering your customer service smile on, determined to ignore any embarrassment, and swing around with the tray. Praying you don’t trip or spill anything in front of him.

Thankfully, you make it around without consequence, your thorough club training coming into play and keeping you steady even when there’s a mild bump as the plane engines start to roar. He grins up at you when you hand him the drink, and you can’t help but return it, beaming at him, forgetting your practised coquettish expression. You have to head back, sit down for a moment while the pilots announce your takeoff, and try not to grimace, knowing that your face can be seen from the compartment, at the feeling of taking off. You’re fine in the air, but that whooshing feeling of the plane jetting forward and up, the moment where you can feel the balance of the wings against the air as the engine battles its way up, still sends a wave of anxiety over you. Maggie brushes her hand over yours where it lies on the little armrest between the steward seats, and you thankfully grasp it, taking deep breaths. Once the pilot has announced you are officially flying and will be for approximately four more hours, you’re pleased you can finally stand up again and relax somewhat.

You’re not really needed for much for a little while, so you bounce about, chatting and keeping them company, talking with some of the other girls as you help to serve more drinks and food, and setting up the games tables when asked. Elvis has demanded the theatre be set up, so you arrange that, praying that when you return to the room he’ll have picked one of the latest cinematic releases and not, as you feared, one of the many adult releases available. You’re not sure you could keep a straight face if you had to watch him watch Deep Throat; it would just be too much to bear.

So you’ve avoided the lounge by staying in the forward compartment and helping the men there. Before you were sent on a mission to see if there was any peanut butter on board, a special request had apparently been made, but whether it had been complied with was yet to be seen. When Michelle, one of the more senior girls, suddenly appeared beside you, grabbing your arm and speaking in a hurried, hushed tone, she told you that you really ought to change. You panic for a second that something was wrong with your dress, but she’s quick to assure you that it was nothing like that. But Elvis had taken her aside and mentioned that although he "love[s] your yittle skirts, like yer spies or somethin’," he was "missin’ them little bunny outfits" and had left that with her. He hadn’t specifically requested anyone should change, but she’d successfully read between the lines of the very obvious hint and was, therefore, suggesting that you, Daisy, and Maggie change into your bunny corsets. You’d all planned for this possibility, so it wasn’t entirely unexpected, but you were still slightly surprised. You’d not been given the impression that Elvis had been that bothered by the theme of the plane, of you, but rather was utilising the plane for the luxury and convenience of the travelling experience. But if he was requesting your bunny outfits, clearly he was more into it than you thought.

It’s not long after that you do as requested and emerge from the powder room in your little patented corset teddy, the black silk highlighting your complexion and the little collar and bow emphasising your neckline. You were slightly annoyed that despite your careful packing, your little cottontail puff had been flattened, and so you’d had to spend way too long fluffing it to bring it back to life. This also meant that you were the last to emerge, and there was no way you could deny noticing that Elvis himself was sitting back in the forward compartment, turned so that he was practically facing the powder room door, watching you exit with a satisfied smirk on his face. You try to ignore him, listening to the conversations happening around you and trying to anticipate everyone’s needs. In your absence, more substantial snacks have been served, and you can see the remnants of some sort of peanut butter sandwich situation dotted around the room, so clearly that had been found too. There’s now a discussion happening about whether you should turn on the lights in the disco room or wait a little while to eat first. Eventually, it’s decided a proper meal is imperative at some point in the flight, but that right now? They wanted music.

So you all move down the plane. You end up walking directly behind Elvis, and when the plane bumps up and down briefly in the tiniest spot of turbulence, you trip into his back. You right yourself with help from one of his arms, apologising, but you’re flustered. It’s only worse when he turns to you.

"No need to be sorry, doll; you can fall into my arms whenever you like." It was one thing to imagine how he felt, but to be able to remember the feel of him, even from behind, even from just a brief moment of contact, was a heady feeling. Especially when he felt just as you’d imagined he would—soft but firm and broad. So broad. Walking behind him like this also made you nervous for another reason: it made you feel as if your movement down towards the intimate bedroom quarters at the end might be signalling something. The cosiness of the rooms between -- the disco and the lounge, perhaps reflective of the internal struggle you’re facing; the disco the butterflies in your belly.

You know you won’t be able to prevent meeting his eye again. The thought worries you; you’ve been around attractive men before, of course, but never one that, just by looking at him once, has made you feel like you would risk giving up everything for a few hours of fun. Lose everything you have simply for the pleasure of touching him. Maybe this was what Darla was concerned about; you can see her glance over to you every now and again, checking in, and you can tell she’s a little bothered by something.

Once you’re in the disco, the girls and you are well-practised at setting it all up, making sure there are enough tracks ready to be played and that there was easy access to free-flowing drinks and bar snacks. You’re also all very used to essentially having to start the dancing yourselves, having to encourage the others to join in despite their enthusiasm in suggesting the disco. You hang back slightly, holding a tray, when Elvis lightly grasps your elbow. You jump, having not seen him come to your side, and look questioningly at him.

"Dance for me, baby?" You’re not a stripper or a go-go dancer or anything like that, but it’s not a request that’s unheard of in the clubs. And you enjoy it; you wouldn’t be in the job if you didn’t get a slight thrill from being looked at, watched, wanted. So it’s easy to agree, especially when you’ve always found it hard to ignore a man when he adds a pet name, and besides, you want to. So you do. Elvis sits himself down, and a few of the men join in, and you and Maggie and Daisy all dance around them. You prance and shimmy, and soon most of the passengers onboard are dancing around to the music that plays from the surround system.

The group cheered and laughed when Burning Love was played on the 8-track, and Elvis sang along, laughing and joking when he missed one of the high notes ("God almighty, that’s high"). You notice that after a while Elvis has disappeared back into the living area and looks like he might be close to nodding off; sat there with his head back. You suppose he must be tired—you don’t know what he was doing prior to the flight this afternoon, but you do know he was coming off of the back of a week straight of shows and heading towards another one. You again know it’s not your place, and yet you still can’t help feeling like you ought to check on him.

You head over, leaning over, and crouching in the way you’re told to, almost in a bunny dip. He blinks up at you when you touch his shoulder.

"Lord, you’re a vision." You’re taken aback and can’t do much more than crouch there, stuck in place. "Talk with me, honey?" He pats your arm, and you nod, standing upright again and looking for a place to perch. There’s nowhere for you to sit down, or perch, few seats as there were in this living area, attached to the disco, and with the other men and girls also collapsing around you, you awkwardly look around for a moment before Elvis’ hand comes out and wraps around your thigh, pulling you down onto his lap.

"Oh!" You gasp, "Oh, I—I, uh, don’t think you’re meant to touch me, sir."

"Bunny, for the next three hours, I own you." He chuckles but removes his hands from your legs, although he makes no attempt to shift you from his lap, instead sitting further back, causing you to fall more securely onto his lap. You avoid what is sure to be judging looks from the other girls as they hand him drinks and chat with the other boys on board. You’re wrong about them watching you and judging you; of course, all the other girls are distracted, and even when they do glance over, it’s mostly to check that you, as the new girl, are still doing okay. Despite any jealousy they may be feeling about the attention he’s giving you, they still know how shocking and abrupt all of this can suddenly feel when you’re being confronted with men like him.

He’s surprised when you look shy, and you know the rumours abound—about how you’re all able to make extra cash—the private parties for the number one keyholders. But it’s not something you’re forced into just by virtue of being a bunny, and it’s not something you’ve been interested in finding out more about. Still, being perched on his firm lap, the seams of his suit rubbing against your silk tights, you can’t help but wish that you had asked more about it; found out if there were expectations. You wouldn’t want to let him down. You awkwardly sit there a moment before opening your mouth,

“So, uh, what did you wanna talk about?” He smiles,

“Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself honey.” So you do, giving him the basic information of your life, while he hmms and uh-huhs in all the right moments to show he’s listening to you. You’re starting to run out of steam and you’re about to ask him to tell you something when you’re distracted by him reaching to the side of you, jostling you a little.

He lights a cigar, and you can feel the heat of the tip. You shift the tiniest bit; you don’t know why it’s getting you so hot. You’re suddenly grateful for the subtle but multiple layers you’re wearing. Thankful for the fact that you’ve never listened to the few girls who swear it makes more sense not to bother with panties; you’d never been convinced that it wasn’t asking for trouble—something was sure to slip or become exposed. But you also always wore a double layer of pantyhose. He grunts the tiniest bit as you bump back into his stomach, and when you pause for a moment, you can feel a dampness growing between your legs. Through all the layers, he can’t feel it, thank God, but he does murmur to you: "Lord, are you a hot little Bunny." He strokes the small of your back, and you somehow know he doesn’t just mean it in the attractive sense, but that he can feel your heat.

You wriggle back against him, thinking, - don’t waste your chance, girl; don’t do it; you may as well go for it. All of your sense of propriety is lost, and you’re suddenly completely ignorant of the happenings around you. You can feel where the rubber around the edge of the leg bands of the teddy is starting to roll, being unable to stay put on the slippery tights and causing it to fall further away from your thighs riding up. You know he can feel it too, as close as you are. And while you’re still theoretically clothed, you can feel his trouser leg better on your thigh after it rolled up; he said you were hot, but he’s burning, it feels like. You push back onto him, feeling his tummy nudge against you, and under your tail, what felt like a growing erection. You don’t know what’s come over you, where this sexual confidence, this determination, this lack of self-consciousness, has come from. You wonder if it could just be the adrenaline of being so close, but you still go with it, and you nudge your ass back to him, grinding a little.

"Don’t baby," he pushes you forward a little, with his one free hand, blowing smoke past the side of your face, and you giggle, putting on a faux deep voice.

"Don’t procrastinate; don’t articulate…" You can’t even get the words out of your mouth you’re giggling so hard, wiggling in his lap, and it sets him off too, shaking his head and murmuring against your ear.

"Lord save me, girlie, you’re trouble, ain’t ya?" He holds you still. You try, but you’re practically incoherent because you’re laughing so hard.

"If you're lookin' for..." But your laughter cuts off when he hooks a finger in the corset and strokes it down your inner thigh—somewhere that you would have slapped anyone else and whispers,

"You came to the right place." You gasp, head going back, and his own tucking into your shoulder - he holds out the cigar, and, despite having barely lit it, rests it in the tray to the side of you so that he can use both hands to grip your waist. It’s ridiculously cheesy, and you don’t want to think about how many times and with how many girls he might have used similar lines, or how easy it must be for him.

"You want me, Bunny?" You still don’t know if you should be playing hard to get or if you should just give in to the inevitability of it all. "Can feel your little tail pressin’ into me - little puffy thing. Twitching ‘gainst me;" You wrinkle your nose cutely at his words, and he smiles into your neck: "Even a little twitchin’ bunny nose!" he presses a finger to it, and the strokes down to your lips. He rests it there for a second, "Do you wanna do this, bun?" You decide you may as well give in and nod—there's no point trying to play it cool when you’re sitting on his lap. You open your mouth, trying to catch his finger in your teeth as he fools around with you. He pulls you around, so one of your bent knees is now pressed against him and your other is resting on the seat, facing him. You shiver, loving how his sturdy hands manhandle you. You lean forward, as if to kiss him, when he stills you,

"Baby, we’re surrounded." You glance up, confused expression on your face, and a question in your eyes: Why would it matter? They all know the score. He shakes his head. "It’s your job isn’t it? You can’t - we shouldn’t?" You shrug your shoulders, he’s technically right and mere minutes ago you’d been worried about it yourself, but... It’s also not completely true to say that you would be discouraged from doing this with him.

"Say doll, how’d’ya - how’d’ya feel about joinin’ me?" Your heart flips, you glance around, but it appears the other girls are either preoccupied or purposefully avoiding looking at you. Plausible deniability. You’re frozen, and he stands up, pushing off of his lap, and leaves without looking back at you, only stopping at the door to the bedroom to call back,

"You coming or what?" So sure that you’ll follow him in. You glance around, and only Darla catches your eye. You’re wide-eyed and panicked at being caught, but she looks at you for a moment before nodding slightly and winking as she turns away. Somehow, it untangles the ball of anxiety that you didn’t realise was holding you so tense. Seconds later, you stand up, clearing the empty glasses from the tables around you, when Michelle swoops in, taking them out of your hands and nudging you with her hip towards the bedroom. Right then. You follow where Elvis had gone only a minute or so ago, and you cross past the little faux wood door into the bedroom. You look around but find that he’s already in the bathroom—perhaps so certain that you would follow that he didn’t even need to check that you had come in.

You sit anxiously on the big, round, fur-covered bed as you wait for him to reappear. You cross your legs before immediately uncrossing them and standing up—wondering if it was too presumptuous to be sitting there waiting for him. A moment later, leaning against the wall, you change your mind, deciding to sit on the edge again. It really did make the most sense. And while you didn’t want to make it seem like you were assuming something, you doubted he’d invited you back here to play checkers. He comes out and watches you for a brief second before coming over to stand in front of you, mere inches apart, so you’re forced to crane your neck up to look at him.

You’re a little skittish, and he can tell by the way you tremble when his hand comes up to touch your shoulder; he leans forward as if to kiss you, and you pull back. He pauses.

"What’s the matter, little Bunny? Why are’ya so twitchy now?" He doesn’t want to force himself, but he also can tell you want him, even before you willingly followed him here. He also knows that you must know the score—you can’t be that innocent in your role—and you must understand what he’s asking of you.

"I’m, I’m just -- it’s just a little surreal, you’re Elvis Presley. I don’t know how to, I've never been with anyone famous." He smiles, thankful that he hadn’t misread the situation — god forbid what the newspapers would have said about that if it had leaked: Elvis forces himself onto Playboy Bunny, BANNED from Hefner’s jet. It doesn’t bear thinking about. So he does the one thing he knows he can do well — can do so well that most women forget their worries and tilts your chin up to kiss you. He brackets your body with his thighs and cups your face in both hands. He’s masterful at it, knowing all the right moves, just the right amount of tongue forced into you, mapping your mouth. His lips are so soft, and his little nibbling bites on your lower lip hurt just the right amount for you to be totally consumed by his actions. He nudges you to move further up when you break apart, and you shimmy up a little, your legs coming up so that only your ankles are not on the bed. He presses one knee between your legs, balancing so he can move forward enough to kiss your cheek, his own high cheekbones rubbing against your face, and whisper,

"I’m just a man, hon, just like any other — don’t, don’t worry ‘bout it." He leans over and you’re forced onto your back, his hand catching you and lowering you down gently onto the fur coverlet. You lean up to kiss the exposed part of his neck, your nose nudging against his high collar.

"I, uh, god, I haven’t been around that many men in general — not like this, so that doesn’t actually make me feel a whole lot better. " You respond quietly. He pauses where his hand had been starting to fiddle with the zipper on the back of your corset. Pulling himself up to look you in the eyes.

"You, have - you have been with a man though? Right Doll?" You nod, frantically, you might be nervous but god don’t let him stop now.

"Yes - yes, just, just only the one." He moans on top of you, clearly liking the answer. You feel the zipper come down, and your chest is finally allowed to expand properly again, free from the restrictive boning. You suddenly panic, holding the garment close to your chest as you force him back a little. He rolls sideways, onto his elbow, to watch you;

"What’sthe matter baby?" He looks concerned as you force yourself up into a sitting position,

"Uh, could you - could you just close your eyes or something while I take this off?" He frowns,

"Well, sure, but… I don’t think you need to worry ‘bout modesty right now." You smile nervously back, trying for a blasé air —

"No, no, I know it’s just — it would just make me feel better." He looks at you, clutching the corset teddy to your chest. He nods, starting to close his eyes and you let out a sigh of relief, immediately standing up and wriggling out of it. You’re bent over, folding the fabric over itself when he starts to talk,

"I ain’t got a problem making you comfortable, babe, but if it’s about them little cottontails stuffed down your top I already know." You pause. Whirling around to see him peeking through his lashes at you. You forget to be shy, stood there topless, braless in nothing but your pantyhose and heels and you put your hands on your hips.

"How on earth —“ He laughs at you, opening his eyes properly,

"I’m not new to this game sweetheart." You can tell he’s teasing, but now he’s made you slightly worried that it's always been obvious thatyou weren’t quite as endowed as you were claiming,

"How’d you tell though?"

"You’re not the first girl meeting me with something stuffed down their shirt, darling, you just, sometimes you can just tell— I don’t know what you’d be stressin’ over though," He takes a moment to very obviously look you over, "they’re some pretty little tits." You’re pleased, but annoyed that he’s still decided to use the term little.

"Well - isn’t that why! Little!" He laughs at your indignation, reaching a hand out to pull you back to him, but he can barely speak through his giggles.

"No, no, no I didn’t mean it like that." You frown, but his amusement is infectious and you find yourself also giggling - "See, see, there’s a good girl - no reason to be sore about it, much more than what you’ve got’sa waste anyway mama, you’ll see."

He puts you back where he wanted you to start with - on your back, as leans over you. The feeling of him still being fully clothed against your chest, your near nakedness, makes you tremble - the soft silk of his shirt rubbing against your nipples. You can smell him, the slight musk of the day masked by cologne - perhaps reapplied in the bathroom a moment ago. His hair is looser than you expected it to be and it’s already starting to flop forward, it unnerves you slightly because it allows you to somehow forget who it is lying over you - the loss of that trademark making you forget that he’s practically a patented figure at this point. Until you catch sight of his blue eyes or his little curled lip and you’re reminded all over again. He strokes up from your waist to your neck and then back down, gentle fingertips dancing over your skin. He leans down to kiss you and your arm winds around his neck, pulling him closer. You’ve never felt a hunger like this. Desire like this before. You’re suddenly desperate to be closer, forgetting to play it cool you’re tugging at his shirt,

"C’mon get this off!" He laughs at you again, but stands up, ignoring your request. You lie there on your back looking up at him as he assesses you. You can’t help but puff your chest out a little and curve your back. Then he bends to grasp your left ankle, slipping your heel off. You yelp at the unexpectedly quick motion but the relief is almost immediate. He grabs your other ankle to take the other heel off, flinging it against the wall of the plane. Then his hands are immediately going to your black tights, he tries to pull them from the ankle but quickly realises that’s getting him nowhere, unable to get a proper purchase on the slippy material. So he works his way up to the waistband, grasping it and tugging it down. His finger catches by your knee, the rough bitten edge of his nail snagging and you hear the tell-tale ripping sound of them laddering, He laughs as you groan,

"Oh, no! Those were my last good pair; they cost me nearly seven dollars!" It only makes him laugh harder as he tears them off of you.

"Tell you what, honey, I’ll make sure you have ten new pairs by the time we land." He throws them somewhere near the rest of your clothes and turns his attention back to your stomach, only to be surprised when he’s met with another pair of pantyhose — this time in a sheer nude.

"Lordy! How many layers’is there?" You laugh at him, as he begins the process of rolling them down too — lifting your hips to allow them to come down easier than last time; it’s not that you don’t believe he would replace them, but just in case you’d prefer not to rip these too.

"Not meant to be being touched am I, Mr Presley?" It’s like, as he exposes more of your skin, he can’t help himself from pausing — the tights stay rolled around your knees to allow him to kiss your thighs, or the patch of skin between your belly button and your panties. You lift your leg, allowing him to roll down the last of the hosiery. He rubs over the arch of your foot and you moan at the relief — you may be getting used to the heels now but it didn’t mean that your feet didn’t still ache as soon as they came off. He gives the same attention to the other foot, rubbing firmly, before physically pushing you up the bed.

"Oh darling, call me Elvis." He strokes up your calves, before he stops again at your feet, "God, has anyone ever told you you’ve got real pretty sooties, Lordy these little toes are gorgeous." You wiggle them at him, you’ve never given much thought to your feet other than deciding what colour to paint your nails. He pulls your foot towards him, lifting your leg up. He kisses along the ball of it, before taking your big toe into his mouth.

You had never, ever, been turned on by the thought of someone playing, or sucking your feet, but suddenly it’s like electricity zapping up your legs to your tummy and core — you can feel yourself growing damp just from his gentle tongue lapping around your toes and you can’t help little moans falling from your mouth. You’re normally ticklish but this time the sensation forms little jolts through your tummy, making it flip slightly, and butterflies form. He lets go with a little pop, his lips forming the perfect round little ‘O’ of suction and the warm wet heat is suddenly released, causing the air to feel colder and your feet more sensitive than ever before. When you look at him standing there, holding your ankle, caressing your calve you have a sudden flash of what it must be like to be a man — and suddenly you think you can understand why men love being sucked so much. The sight of him, his lips red, your toes wet, is overwhelmingly erotic.

He keeps going - right up your foot, before he holds your leg up, kissing up it before he put his knees on the bed again, lowering your limb to allow him to kneel over you. He places little kisses up your thighs, and you can feel his chin rubbing against your stomach as he kisses his way up there, he uses one elbow to lean on, keeping himself somewhat horizontal, but his other hand is following his lips.

"Time to prove it to you, little bun-bun." He whispers against your sternum, before turning his head, licking a line across your breast and capturing your nipple in his mouth. His hand reaches to squeeze your other, pinching the nipple until it hardens into a little nub. He pulls off of where he’s been sucking and blows onto you. The cool air over your wet nipple sends a jolt straight to your pussy — it’s clearly an education for you tonight since you’d also never before known how sensitive your chest really was. He laps at the other side, giving it a similar treatment, palming the breast around it. While you gasp and wiggle underneath him you can feel his length straining in his trousers, and the slight feel of his lowly buttoned shirt, allowing you to feel a slither of the hairs on his chest and tummy is enough to send your arousal into overdrive. You start tugging at his top and trying to feel around his waist to undo one of the belts that had become synonymous with his image, far more insistently than before. Demanding he takes it off, even as the words fail to make it out of your mouth alongside the moans and gasps caused by his ministrations. He pulls back, planting one last kiss on the side of your chest and laughs at you when you beg.

"Please, gotta see you, wanna see all of you - please Elvis, dreamed about this, gotta see it." But still, he complies with your request, sitting himself up to strip off his shirt; unbuttoning the last few buttons and then standing to kick off his trousers, pulling off his belt. You stare at him. Incapable of doing anything else. He’s carrying more weight than before, especially around his middle, although he’s still clearly a man of generally slim build, padded tummy over muscle. But regardless of his weight, or maybe because of it, he’s still beautiful. You reach for him when he lies back down, stroking the hair on his head - the hair that ensures you recognise that this is no longer the slicked-back hair of his Hollywood days and that he’s no longer a boy in anyway but a man and you need only look at his chest to remind you of that. The few sparse hairs that used to be there have been joined by a collection covering his chest and stomach in a soft carpet.

His hands move back down the sides of your body and he whispers to you, "Lift up baby," as you would while trying to undress a child to pull your panties down and off of you — throwing them god-knows-where also. You wriggle, nervous and self-conscious as he stares at you. He’s flushed pink down his face and chest, and he looks you over, assessing. He nods, clearly satisfied and smiles when you breathe a sigh of relief. You bring a hand down, and he follows with his own, going to stroke you.

"God Bunny, you’re dripping." And it’s true, your inner thighs were already sticky with your own slick and you’re genuinely not sure you’ve ever felt this wet without having even touched yourself. He brushes over you lightly, circling your clit, before going to press a single finger into you. Your own hand rests on top of his, ostensibly as if you were guiding him, but really being dragged by him. You let out a moan as he pulls your hand down to join his, directing and tugging your finger to join his, pulling them both out and pushing them back in together as if your two hands made one. It feels wild, it’s so out there, your soft hand intertwined with his rougher fingers pressed against one another as they delve into your most intimate place.

You’re not unused to the sensation in general but his singular finger alone was similar to two of your own and so you can feel a slight burn at your entrance, a barely-there sting that cuts through the pleasure. Like a pinch of salt atop a cookie, it only enhances the flavour — the feel andyourhips circle around as his thumb finds its way up to rub at your clit.

"Gotta make sure you’re nice and loose for me huh baby, just like a new set’a wheels gotta grease you up." You moan at his words, the objectification for some reason really doing something for you. He uses his other fingers to stroke gently at you and the tickling sensation is almost enough to tip you over the edge. He seems to hold you there for a miraculously long time, and you realise you probably ought to be trying to return the favour so you reach down to tug at his hard cock. It’s a different feel than what you were used to, you’d never been around an uncut penis before, and you didn’t really know what to do with it other than pretend that it was exactly the same as the two others you’d touched. He winces slightly when you roll your palm over before his foreskin has retracted back causing you to roll the skin around, pinching him as you try. He bats your hand out of the way, pumping himself. You take note and recreate his actions as best you can, and you know you’ve hit the sweet spot when his own hips jerk and his hand tightens around your wrist. He pulls his fingers out from you, dragging your hand back with him and flings your arm away, before going back down with three fingers, he prods them at your entrance, testing the boundary before slowly sinking them in. You whine at him, panting,

"Please, god, Elvis, you gotta, I’m ready for you, I swear I’m ready for you," he pulls his fingers out, and pushes your hand away from his cock, rolling you firmly onto your back and kneeling himself up again.

"Ok, Ok, Bunny, ok, I hear ya, I can feel you’re ready for me, just, just didn’t wanna hurt you, just wanna make you feel good little Bunny." He pulls your hips towards him and lines himself up.

He thrusts into you, pulling you onto him and you whine as you feel his sticky head stretching you open. Despite your claims of being ready for him it has been a while. His stomach is resting on yours, his tummy pressing down on you. It’s almost like he’s smothering you, he’s entirely enveloping you. His hands are holding your waist, bracketing you to him. If it were anyone else you think you might find it claustrophobic, so close together that your breath is mingling, you can see his pores, feel his belly button. But for some reason it just makes you want even more of him, getting as close as humanely possible, desperate for however much you can get. His taste, his smell, his everything.

"Oh god," as he pushes in further, devastatingly slowly, "Tight as a fucking virgin aren’t ya… you sure you haven’t still got your cherry? Sure I’m not about to - ah - pop it ‘gain?" You moan, trying to relax your breathing from its quickened state as you adjust to him inside you. He moves one of his hands to touch you, feeling where you’re spread open and up to press your clit, and you buck up involuntarily at the contact, forcing a few more inches of him in. He groans at the unexpected tight pressure and heat. You clutch at his shoulders as he responds with his thumb speeding up on you. He drives into you, and you clench down as you start to feel his fingers doing their job, along with his cock jabbing against your internal walls. You don’t recognise the noises coming out of your mouth, they’re not the practised noises that you might expect from a woman of your occupation, but the very real moans and groans from a woman surprised at how this could feel.

He’s breathing heavily, and you can see the sweat starting to form, but he keeps the pace — clearly, his near-constant performances have maintained his stamina. A bead of it starts to form on his brow and you watch it drip, slowly, down his cheek towards the little patch of sideburns. You suddenly yearn to taste it, it’s sure to be salty, and maybe a little sweet, but his musky smell is already filling your nostrils and you can’t help but want to lick it. You try to distract yourself, don’t want to embarrass yourself like that, how unbecoming that would be. You try to look at a point beyond his shoulders, but you fail when you feel his hot, large, heavy, hand on you - cupping your cheek and drawing your eyes back to his face.

"Where ya going little Bunny?" He huffs, "Stay with me." He’s pleading with you and it immediately catches your attention. You nod, frantically, as his hips rock back and forth into you. He grips your waist and hips tight and leans closer, pausing in his rutting to press into you, deep, and catching your mouth with his. When he pulls off of you, he goes to kiss the side of your face, curving over himself to kiss your neck and you can see another drip of swear forming. It’s too much to take and you reach with your hands, both of them cupping his head, pulling him back up to your eye level from your shoulder. He looks up slightly confused at why you’ve stopped him but his eyes quickly roll closed as you lean forward,

"Wanna taste you, let me taste you daddy." He nods, and you hold his head in place, kissing the side of his mouth, before licking his cheek, little kitten licks before a broader stripe up to his temples, where the sweat is forming. You were right; it’s sweet and salty, manly. His hips stutter a little and you can feel him twitch inside you, your own walls fluttering and clenching a little in response to his feel and taste. He pulls back a few inches, about to thrust back into you but you put a hand on his chest. He frowns down at you, disappointed that you were blocking his movements.

"Let me, let me — can I, wanna ride you." His eyes roll back and his bitten, pouty, lips fall open in pleasure as he doesn’t say anything but starts to remove himself from you. When his cock pops out, bobbing between you he rubs it against your folds, cockhead bumping your clit. You grind against him, before moaning at the loss as he sits himself at the head of the bed, sliding down to be in a semi-reclining position.

"C’mon then doll, have at it." He gestures with both hands at his crotch. "Hippity hop little Bun." You grin, you don’t normally love the bunny jokes and comments — you’re not ashamed of your job and in fact, you’re normally quite proud of your career, but you do like to keep it separate from your private life; it’s still your work, and you’re more than just a playboy bunny. But coming from him? If Elvis wants to call you Bunny, he can call you a bunny — hell you’d hop about the room, eating a carrot, until he was satisfied if he asked.

You sink down onto him, your slick and his precum have lubricated your entrance enough by now to make it far easier than his first push into you, although your mouth still falls open at the feel of the stretch. You moan at the feel of the different angles, hitting different parts of your walls as you bottom out before rising back up, only to rock yourself back down again. You try to pay attention to his face, work out what feels the best for him but honestly you’re too distracted trying to get the angle right for yourself. He seems content, though, to let you do the work, offering you a near-constant stream of praise;

"Uh-huh that’s it, good girl, good fucking girl.” You circle your hips in response, grinding down and he’s moaning at you, telling you that you’re "treating’ me so nice, oh god, oh yes." You bounce on him until your thighs are shaking and you’re so close, but you just need a little more something. You’re about to say so, and you’re reaching down one of your hands that had been on his shoulders to touch yourself when he says,

"It alright bunny if Daddy takes over again now?" You feel yourself clench, his slightly condescending tone for some reason heightening your arousal even further, and you nod rapidly. He lifts you off of him, his forearms flexing, and manhandles you into turning around - pushing you down onto all fours. Your arms are a little shaky and you lean down onto your elbows to compensate.

"Arch your back baby, that’s it." You comply with his request, feeling a little like a whore and how strange it was to feel, as fucked open as you were, the air running past your pussy. He grips your hips and lines up again, one hand staying around your hipbone while the other strayed around to hold you close to him, palm splayed across your lower stomach as he pushes into you again.

He slides in, the stretch lessening each time — you can still feel him, of course, but it’s less of a burning sensation and more of a gentle pull now. He’s constantly talking — praising you, telling you you’re "so goddamn fucking pretty" that "you were born to take this," and that you were "such a good girl." You’re not used to the noises he pulls from you, and you probably should be more concerned about how thin the walls are - he reminds you a few times that you "gotta be quieter baby, gotta quiet down, be a quiet little Bunny for me", but when his balls are slapping against you, his tummy knocking into you, and his cock is stretching your hole you lose the ability to stay quiet.

A stream of swears and words of approval coming from your own mouth, "C’mon, please Daddy, please, that’s it, that’s it, give it to me Daddy."

He reaches around, stroking you and rolling his fingers over the little silky soft patch between his cock and your clit, feeling around where you’re joined. It’s filthy - and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, and when he reaches down with a hand - rubbing his fingers over you just so you’re reminded that you’re not the second person he’s ever fucked. He seems to know all the right moves to get you where he wants you, your head turned against the bed, gasping. You’re knocked momentarily silent when he pulls out, rubbing his cock up and down your folds, jabbing it against your clit before he presses a hand agaisnt your back, forcing your ass up higher and presses back inside you. This time he’s aiming, going deeper than his shallower thrusts before, and he knows he’s aimed true when you wail as he hits the bumpy little spot inside you. He breathes a laugh like your reaction is amusing to him — perhaps because of the sheer shock in your tone and he continues at the same pace. Hitting that same spot and focusing his fingers once again on your clit.

He circles his middle finger and thumb around, moving closer and closer before eventually, finally, brushing directly over it. It’s enough to make you cry out, thrashing around a little, legs jerking, as you come — your hole clenching around him causing him to groan in time with you. Your body goes slack against him, as he continues to pummel into you, although he does slow down, letting you ride the waves of your orgasm back down. He shifts slightly, pulling you up, and holding you by his grip on your waist and pussy as he kisses the sweat on your collarbone. Before abruptly shoving you back down onto the bed. Your face rubs against the fur as your arms give way, and you grab fistfuls to hold onto as he grips your hips, so tight you’re bound to bruise, and starts to pound away at you. You’re oversensitive and his rapid pace is a little uncomfortable, but as he starts to swear, and you can feel him drawing near he reaches down with his left hand, and nudges your folds open again. He rubs your clit at a pace that would normally have made you shove the guy off of you, so little attention given elsewhere, but that matches his own hips perfectly and is apparently just the right amount of abrasion to send you careening to the edge again. You convulse on his cock at almost the exact same moment you can feel him rapidly pulling out, to shoot his own cum across your ass and back.

"Now you got your own little white tail Bunny." He doesn’t let you rest. As soon as he’s stopped spurting he’s pushing you over, rolling you onto your back and diving between your legs. He tongues your sloppy, open, hole and he licks his way up and down your folds, before tongue-fucking into you. His fingers coming up to replace his tongue, scissoring into you, so that he can lick up to your clit, sucking on that little nub and sending your oversensitive self straight through to a third orgasm. You scream, unable to remain quiet any longer, clutching at his hair and holding him tight to you as you writhe against his mouth. He licks you out like a man possessed, like he’s been told it’s essential for the good of humanity, and you’ve never had someone do this to you before; you had no idea this was how this felt, but to have someone so dedicated to the task was a feeling almost as heady as the orgasm itself.

He flops back, resting his head back onto your inner thigh, and you pat gently at his head, still breathless and unable to speak as you blink away black spots in your vision. He’s breathing heavily and you can feel his sweaty forehead on your fingertips. You can’t believe it’s his soft, sweaty hair in your hands. God, you wished this plane would never land. He sits up, and looks down at you, patting at your pussy lightly, as you would a pet, affectionately. You look over at your clothes, wondering if you’ll even be able to contain your puffy folds in the tiny gusset of the corset teddy when he distracts you by leaning down and pressing a kiss against your forehead.

"If it’s alright with you, darling, I think I might request you on my crew every time I fly."

#elvis fic #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfiction

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joels-shitty-puns · 7 months

Text

The Key To Your Heart - Track 6

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 4K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

This one's a little longer than the last few, but it's one I was really excited to get to for a while. I hope you guys like it! We're starting to get into the nitty gritty! Once again please let me know what you think of it! Thank you all for your support :)

__________

After your emotional conversation with Pedro, you were worried he'd stop talking to you. At least, it seems that's how it usually works. Whenever you try to have a conversation about emotions with someone, it gets shut down. But surprisingly.. it didn't push Pedro away at all. The two of you talk nearly every day on the phone, and when you don't, it's made up for with plenty of text messages. You don't even have to be the first to communicate, either. It just feels natural. It doesn't need to be over-thought.

You keep telling yourself not to get your hopes up, but at the same time, you feel like maybe it's turning into something. Something more than friends. You couldn't help but wonder if Pedro felt the same way, or if maybe he's just a really nice guy.

Despite these feelings, you're still hesitant to tell him you love him. Although he put many of your fears to rest, you continued to be nervous. You were inexperienced. You were significantly younger than him. You led two very different lives. And even though he reassured you about your appearances, it doesn't mean you'd be his type once he actually saw you. Shoot, you don't even know if he's interested in pursuing a relationship.

Plus, now there's the risk of messing up a new friendship. Why ruin it?

How does anyone ever get into a relationship? Others make it look so easy, jumping from relationship to relationship like their heart isn't at stake.

Maybe someday you'd tell him. Maybe someday you'd share these other fears as well. But not yet. You weren't ready.

_____

About a week had gone by since you first talked on the phone, and it was around 1 PM when he called you.

"Hey Pedro!"

"Hey there, songbird," he replied cheerily.

"Songbird?" You giggled.

"If you hate it-"

"No, I love it. It's sweet," you blushed.

"Okay good. But the reason I'm calling is because I saw something on Instagram…"

"Oh yeah? What of?"

"About you. When were you going to tell me?"

Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh what? What is he referring to?

You nervously laughed "I… what? Tell you what now?"

"Your album is coming out in a WEEK!??!" He practically yelled with excitement.

Seriously… this guy. Giving me a damn heart attack.

"OH" you replied sheepishly. "You scared me, thinking you heard… I dunno"

"Oh! I'm sorry. No. I haven't heard any information that you haven't told me yourself, nor would I believe it anyway. Other than.. this album!!!" Pedro announced like a gameshow host.

You laughed before replying "yes, yes, the album comes out next week! They just announced it I guess."

Pedro clapped and shouted. "CONGRATULATIONS!!!! I'm so happy and proud of you!!!!!!!!"

You weren't looking in a mirror, and he couldn't see you either, but you could bet money that your cheeks were a bright shade of pink. "Thank you, Pedro!" You giggled, your face beginning to hurt from the large smile he caused.

"How are you celebrating? Is the studio doing anything for you?"

"Well they mentioned an album release party, but being that nobody really knows me I don't know who I would even invite. Plus I'm not sure that a large thing like that is how I'd like to show myself to the world. A little too ceremonious for my liking." You grimaced.

"Well, I happen to think you deserve something ceremonious, even if you don't think you do. And I think we should celebrate."

"We - you - you do? You mean…?" You stuttered in disbelief.

"You and me," he said matter-of-factly.

"You.. and… What did you have in mind?"

Frankly you didn't know what to think.

"Well. I was thinking… Maybe we could listen to the album together? We could talk on the phone and listen, and it would be like our own little album release party. You wouldn't have to show yourself or meet people. It would just be like our normal conversations. Except I'd get to hear your new music and talk about it with you. If you want," he said, sounding slightly nervous.

Your heart swelled at the gesture and you agreed happily. The two of you made a plan to "meet" at 7PM and listen together the night of your album release. And he promised he wouldn't listen without you.

_____

It wasn't until after you were off the phone with him that you began to overthink the songs on your album. Not unlike your first single, these were also rather vulnerable at times. Sure, he knew a lot, and he'd listen to the album anyway. Probably. But still. To hear it… together? You were starting to feel like you were in over your head.

Nevertheless, the week continued on like normal. Work, talking to Pedro, hanging with Skipper. You agreed to a few more interviews in article or voice format after the release, and signed a few last minute things.

As the album date approached closer, Pedro texted you one day.

"Okay I'm going to ask you something and I want you to trust me okay. I'm not going to do anything that I know you would hate."

"Okay…" what does this man have up his sleeve?

"Can I have your address?"

Why does he want my address???? The panic settled in. But, you did like him; and he hadn't crossed any boundaries yet. In fact, he's been one of the most understanding of your qualms.

So. You sent him your address.

"Thank you ❤️" Pedro replied.

A heart !?! A red one!?

"You're welcome. Also… I was planning to tell you anyway, but if you're looking for my address I may as well tell you…" you told him your real name. Not your stage name. Not a nickname. But your name. First, Last. All of it.

"Thank you for trusting me. I promise I'll keep it safe," reassured Pedro.

"Thank you, P."

"Of course. You have a beautiful name, by the way."

Your heart did a somersault.

_____

The album release date was finally here and you aren't sure you slept a wink. You were a bundle of nerves and excitement. You loved him and always enjoyed chatting together. This was exciting. But also these songs are so personal. This is a big moment. This was a big plan. And why did he want your address anyway?

~~~~~

Meanwhile at Pedro's place, he was just as nervous. He had started out excited, but then he got into his head. His plans for the evening started feeling too romantic. He didn't want you to get the wrong idea. He liked you, but he didn't want to push it. Maybe he was showing too many feelings towards you. You love someone else, and him not respecting that is rude. All you want is a friend and he's just going to seem like another one of those creepy guys trying to get into your pants.

But it was too late now, the plans were in motion, and maybe you'd enjoy it. Who knows. Either way, he loved your friendship, and friends could do this kind of thing for each other… right??

~~~~~

Throughout the day, you paced your house before finally leaving with Skipper in tow. "We gotta get some air, buddy. I'm losing it over here," you said while clipping his leash.

Stepping out of the house, you two went for a long walk, circled back toward home, and plopped down on your lawn. The house still felt too small in preparation for this evening, whatever it was. Why does it feel different anyway? It's just another phone call..? Unless….

Truth be told, while Pedro had his secret plans, you also had some of your own. Whether you followed through with them or not was up to your nerves.

After some sunbathing with your pup, you both head inside. The sun was starting to set, and you realized it was getting closer to the meetup time you chose with Pedro.

_____

6 PM.

You stared at the TV, not really absorbing anything on the screen, but needing a distraction. This afternoon you opted for a show that Pedro was not in. For once, you needed to not see his handsome face. You needed something else. Half paying attention while picking at a hangnail, you jump out of your skin at the sight of your phone lighting up. Pedro texted.

"Picking out my outfit for tonight! Always important to look nice for celebration."

Shit… he's not coming over is he?! That's why he wanted my address?!

"Wait…" you pondered how to phrase your question without sounding like a panicked asshole, when all you wanted to say was "what the fuck do you MEAN!?!"

I'm not dressed. I'm in sweats and covered in dog hair. I don't have makeup on. Oh no.

"Wait… is that why you wanted my address?"

"Oh. Nooo, no no. No, sweet girl, don't worry. I'm not coming over unexpectedly and interrupting your hiding place. I just think it's still important to dress nice."

"Oh..Okay.."

It was around 6:15 when he texted a picture of himself wearing a white button up with a dark blue suit and matching tie. He wore dark-frame glasses and his hair was slightly tamed, but still showed his messy curls. He looked gorgeous.

But as you scanned his body you noticed that instead of dress shoes, he wore a pair of polka dot socks. He had a goofy grin and his one eyebrow was cocked. You grinned.

"All dressed up and nowhere to go," he said.

"You're a goof, P. But I appreciate the effort."

A pause.

"Also, you look really handsome" you nervously hit send before you had a chance to chicken out.

Bold. Probably shouldn't have said that. But hey, friends compliment each other.

"Why thank you. A big accomplishment like this requires all the stops."

He timed this message right to the minute. As you read his text, your doorbell rang.

You opened the door to find two boxes. One large, one small. A delivery boy was getting into his car.

"Delivery from your biggest fan.

-❤️, P"

He… he sent me some kind of care package?? And put a heart? And said he's my biggest fan?

You squealed and carried the boxes into the house. "What's this!?" You texted Pedro.

"Open them and see!"

You immediately open them. Inside the larger box was a variety of items. The first thing you noticed was a small vase holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. To the right of that was a bag, which you opened and found your favorite meal, from your favorite restaurant.

Wow, this is elaborate.

Below the food was another small bag holding your favorite dessert, and finally to the left, your favorite drink.

I can't believe he remembered all of my favorite things.. This is so thoughtful.

When you moved the flower vase, you noticed one more small item. Is that a… corsage?? You texted Pedro the question.

"Yep!" He sent, with a photo of a matching flower on his lapel.

Remembering you still had the small box, you opened the box flaps, wondering what could possibly be left for him to give you. On top of it was another note.

"For a handsome boy.

- ❤️, your mom's friend, Pedro"

Under the note was a jar of peanut butter, a squeaky anchor toy, and…? What's this?

You unwrap a small paper wrapping to find a dog-sized black bowtie. Shut up.

"SKIPPER!!! Look what Pedro gave you, buddy!"

He padded over to you and let you hook the dressy accessory around his neck. With the clip adjusted, he sat back, looking proud of his new fashion. You quickly snapped a picture and texted it to Pedro.

"I can't believe you did all this, Pedro. Not only did you send all this, but you remembered my favorite things? You remembered all the details from when I first met Skipper. My favorite food, dessert, drink, and flower? That's so sweet, this is all too much Pedro.. Nobody has ever done anything like this for me. I.. I don't even know what to say."

You're amazing and I love you. Is what I want to say.

"You're welcome." He texted back. "Like I said, you deserve a celebration. Plus…"

Pedro sent a photo of his table, set up with the same food and drink, with the caption "now it's like we're having a dinner party."

It was nearing the time to meet, but you still had to do one more thing. You had pondered it earlier in the day, but fully decided it when Pedro sent the photo of himself dressed up. It's now or never.

_____

6:45 PM.

Pedro sat waiting for a reply after he sent his dinner photo. It had only been a couple minutes, but his hands were sweaty and his leg was shaking under the table. Finally, his phone went off. You sent… a video?

He opened it and pressed play. There, he saw you rotating your wrist with the corsage on it. The first time he's ever seen your wrist, hand, or arm before. The first time he's even seen your skin tone.

Geez you act like you're in the Victorian ages, pull yourself together, he rolled his eyes at himself for being so overjoyed.

Next, the video panned to Skipper in his bowtie, looking handsome as ever. The camera zoomed in on him and he looked up into the view with his big brown eyes.

And then…

The camera panned to the side, and showed a mirror. A full length mirror, where you stood. He scanned your body from your perfectly done up hair and makeup, down your body to your dress. You wore your favorite dress, (in your favorite color, he noted) which showed off your body in the best ways. He looked down to the floor and noticed that you too were wearing fun socks instead of shoes. You wore a pair of striped socks and wrote in your caption "all dressed up and nowhere to go."

His heart picked up and he could feel himself breathing unevenly. He finally saw you. And you were gorgeous. He couldn't help the smile that enveloped his face.

Fuck. She's beautiful… I'm screwed.

She loves someone else. She loves someone else. She loves someone else. Forget your feelings.

Despite his struggle, he knew he wanted, and needed, to tell you how beautiful he thought you looked. This was a big step to show yourself, and he also knew how self-conscious you felt about your body.

"Wow, you're so beautiful."

You blushed, replying with a quick thank you with a heart, then sending a second message asking if he was ready to listen. The video wasn't the only trick you had planned up your sleeve tonight.

______

The clock turned to 7 PM and Pedro hit the dial for your number. You answered the phone and said a quick "hang on" to set up the shared listening party link for your album. Once sent, you took a deep breath and steadied your nerves. Then, you took the plunge.

"Okay I got the link! I'm so exci - what - wait, is this an accident?" Pedro's hand fumbled as he received your incoming video chat request, his heart picking up to a galloping pace.

"Nope! You can answer it. If you want.."

He quickly swiped the accept button and there you were. Clad in your favorite dress, sitting at a table with the meal he sent in front of you. He could see himself in the corner square, dressed in his suit, with nearly the identical table setup and food.

He couldn't help but notice on his own video screen that his cheeks were turning rosy and his mouth curled into a large smile. But he was too happy to be shy about his blush.

"So this is you," he said.

"This is me," you replied shyly, but still with a huge smile and blush plastered on your face, matching Pedro's.

"You look.." he sighed shakily "..wow.."

"You look pretty wow yourself there," you said with a shy giggle.

Both of you let out gentle laughs, feeling a warm glow as your stomachs felt matching butterflies of nerves, excitement, and… maybe something else.

"So should we listen, I guess?" You asked nervously.

He didn't answer. He was looking at the screen, eyes scanning the video.

Is he blushing? You wondered. But why would he be? He doesn't like me back… right?

He still hadn't answered you when you finally said "Pedro?? Did you hear me?"

He snapped out of it, somehow turning more crimson. "Oh! Sorry… yeah! Let's listen."

Your nerves were off the charts. Some of these songs were so vulnerable. The ones at the end of the album were the most telling of all.

But as the two of you ate your dinners while listening to your new album, you began to relax. The night was filled with him giving praise and you giving background information on the meanings and production of the songs.

"Are all the different instruments and harmonies played by you?"

"They are! The studio offered studio musicians but I had originally played them all when I wrote it and wanted to keep it a one woman show."

"You're incredible," Pedro said, shaking his head.

You blushed, for the billionth time today.

When it came to "Imaginary Love" Pedro grinned. "Hey I know this one! The one that started it all."

"Yep!" You agreed and he began lip syncing to the lyrics dramatically. Little did he know, those lyrics were actually about him. You giggled as he acted out a soulful rendition of the chorus.

"You know, this whole journey has been a real rollercoaster and there have been times I've wished I hadn't posted that song..."

Pedro looked at you with that puppy dog look of his and you continued "but then I remember… that if I never posted it, I would've never started talking to you, and it makes it all worth it."

Pedro placed his hand on his heart and pouted his lip. "I agree. I'm glad to have met you. If I didn't love this song already, that alone would be enough reason for me to consider it one of my favorites.

You grinned and looked down at the table, suddenly feeling shy. The two of you continued to listen, having long finished your dinner. Conversation flowed easily, and you couldn't help but feel like you were on a date. Not that you had much experience with that, but from what you'd seen in movies and shows, this felt very date-like. And you didn't want it to end.

But as the album went on, you approached the last two songs. The ones you were scared of most. The most vulnerable of the album.

The second to last began to play.

'It's hard to imagine craving something that I've never had.

Dumb to be so desperate for something I've gone without.

But when I'm alone and thinking to myself, I need it so bad.

I crave it like a drug, but one I know nothing about.

Your kiss on my lips, or any kiss at all.

It hasn't happened yet, no matter how hard I fall.

The years keep passing, but still no love.

The years go by, but still no kisses.

I keep wondering and praying up above,

I guess I'm unkissable, despite my wishes.'

Pedro furrowed his brow, looking at you, searching for something. He read the title of the song, "Unkissable," and looked up again, opening and closing his mouth to find the right words.

"Do-" he stopped himself and pondered his wording again. "Is- are all these songs true?"

You stared at the table, picking your nail against the wood. "Yes."

"You really believe that?"

"... I mean… I don't know… maybe… I guess…" you avoided his gaze, but could feel it.

"And you've never-"

"Kissed anyone before? No. I haven't."

"But you've wanted to?"

"Yes," you whispered, starting to feel tears prick at your eyes.

Pedro shifted his lips to the side in thought before finally saying "well… you're still young. It'll happen."

"I'm 26, Pedro. Most people have kissed by the time they've graduated high school. I just… missed the boat I guess. It's okay. I'm just being silly. I don't want it that bad. We can maybe listen to something else now."

"Hey, hey. Don't shut down on me," he asked pleadingly. "26 is still very young, and don't worry about whenever everyone else has done things. Everyone does things at their own pace. I'm sorry you haven't experienced it yet, especially when you want it so badly, but I know that when it does happen, it'll probably be better than any kiss you would've had with some 15 year old boy you would've had in high school."

You laughed, breaking your tears for a minute. "Thanks Pedro."

"Of course. And hey, don't think of yourself as unkissable. Any guy should be so lucky to be with you. Maybe the guy you wrote about in your song will be your first."

"Maybe… I hope so. Thank you."

While your heart bloomed at the kind words and prospect of maybe kissing Pedro in the future, Pedro's heart began to ache. Not only was he sad for you when you wanted love so desperately, but he also couldn't help but feel sad hearing you want to kiss another man. He wants to be that guy for you. He wasn't joking when he said any man would be lucky. But especially knowing now your true age, 22 years younger than him, he knew for sure your crush couldn't be him. You were way too young to be interested in a 48 year old man. He was silly for even entertaining the idea.

But at least he had a new friend. And as he thought longer, he thought about his best friend Sarah, and her relationship. They have a huge age gap, 32 years, but they're happy. And he's happy for her. It doesn't feel weird with them. Could he have that with you? Or is he in over his head?

The last song on the album began to play. This one was less vulnerable, but if he decided to look at the lyrics and notice patterns, he'd see it in the chorus.

'People have a lot to say

Everyone loves or hates me

Don't know what I did today

Right now you're all I can see

Only want to be with you.

Please, love me too.'

You're sure the obsessive listeners will figure out the acrostic, and if Pedro looks up the lyrics, he might too. But either way, it's out there. All you can do is hope for the best and eventually you're sure it'll come out anyway.

This wasn't one you were sure about putting on the album, but when the studio read through your personal songbook, they went insane over it. They figured it out quickly, and they promised they'd keep it to themselves. Luckily they have so far, but if money came calling, you think they'd sell your heart faster than you could say no.

The song, and album, came to a close and Pedro looked up at the screen once again, staring into your eyes. "Once again your music has blown me away."

Whether he put together the end or not, he wasn't letting on.

"Thank you Pedro. I really appreciate it. And thank you for tonight. It was truly special and I mean it when I say it's the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. You didn't have to go through all that trouble," you said thoughtfully.

"It was no trouble. You deserve congratulations for your album," Pedro replied with a smile.

Right.. it's just a congratulations. Nothing else. You sighed.

"Thank you. I'm really glad we did this. Talk again soon?" You asked.

"Absolutely. It was wonderful to meet you finally," Pedro said, finishing the sentence with your real name and smiling.

"It was great to meet you too, Pedro."

__________

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for reading.

Looking for more? Next chapter!

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibleywrites @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #a! wrote a fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x afab!reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x musician!reader #pedro pascal x plus sized! reader #pedro pascal x y/n #rpf #key to your heart

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unrequitedloveletter · 1 year

Note

Cal, my love, how are you???

If heard your call for Kaz x Reader requests. If LOVE to see what you come up with for Kaz x Grisha!Reader (I'm feeling inferno, squaller, or Durant, but obviously it's up to you!) where the reader gets sicker and sicker from not using their small science! It's such a fascinating concept to me and hardly ever explored!

Back To Normal- K.B x gn! Squaller! Reader

Okay, hi! It's been nearly two weeks since you sent this in and I did write it! Editing it just took me longer than I expected and I woke up after a nap last night to discover that I have a bit of a cold developing so I couldn't edit the remainder of it and post it like I'd hoped, but I got it done today so yay, I hope you like this one!

This concept is one I've never seen a fic for but one I've debated writing a fic around in the past because the concept in and of itself is a really intriguing idea to me, and this gives me an excuse to write it and also an excuse to write a squaller! reader, which I've thought about doing but have never actually done, so I was really excited when I saw this in my inbox! Thank you so much for sending this in, and if it's not exactly what you had in mind, feel free to reach out and let me know, I'll totally rewrite if you'd like lol.

Fic type- hurt/comfort with moments of angst

Warnings- mentions of sickness, frailness, feelings of weakness, heart palpitations, loss of appetite, and there's reference to the second chapter of Six of Crows so slight spoiler warning too for people haven't read the books

As a Grisha, once your abilities to summon the small science were discovered, there were consequences for not summoning. You grew sick, your body grew weak, your bones fragile and you felt frail, even the smallest actions leaving you winded.

It was the universes way of punishing you for not using the gift you'd been given, another show of like calls to like. Refraining from summoning calls to sickness, and summoning calls to health.

You'd read Grisha theory, both in your time at the Little Palace before you left in the last few months before the war and in the time since, in the times wherein you needed something to read and happened upon a book containing Grisha theory and figured it would be good to pass the time.

You knew that you wouldn't last if you didn't summon, but you eventually stopped finding reason to. Nobody in the Dregs knew you were a squaller, and what good did wind do, anyway, unless it was summer and grossly humid as Ketterdam always got when the weather warmed up? You saw no point in using your small science, so eventually, you just stopped.

For a while, the differences weren't really noticeable. You didn't notice them, nobody in the Dregs noticed them, none of the crows did. You hadn't relied on your abilities as a Squaller since you'd lived in Ravka, and before you'd decided to stop, you mostly used them in summer or when Kaz needed a distraction in the middle of a negotiation in the rarer times they'd taken place outdoors, something to put the opposition a little on edge.

But then, they became noticeable. You stopped sleeping quite as comfortably as you used to, spending hours trying to get comfortable, trying to will your mind to quiet. You woke up and took to coffee to keep you awake, often running on between two and four hours to boot.

Because of your tiredness, dark circles developed under your eyes. Your appetite lessened and you grew to be tired all the time, even on a rarer night where your body rested for seven or eight hours. You still relied on the coffee even then, and Nina was beginning to take notice of the fact that you hardly ate.

Kaz had long taken notice of the exhaustion you exhibited even after jobs that you'd always considered pretty easy, ones that didn't require as much effort, as much physical strain, as the bigger heists always tended to.

Jesper had long taken notice of how much coffee you drank, the fact that you always seemed to have jurda on you even in the middle of the day, and Inej noticed it when your pace began to slow, afraid to walk at the pace you normally did because you didn't want to risk heart palpitations.

Wylan was beginning to notice when those heart palpitations kicked in, was the one to grab your hand and look at you, brown eyes silently trying to ask if something was wrong only to receive nothing in response.

One by one, each of the crows noticed something, and still, none of them said a word. They could've been wrong, they knew. All of them acknowledged that they could've been dramatizing things, making things out to be worse than they actually were.

The only one who was sure of the things they'd noticed was Kaz. You were someone who mattered to him. Of course he was going to notice if you were out of sorts. Observance was his pedigree.

So, one day, Kaz showed up at your door. "What's wrong?" He'd asked. "What is wrong with you, Y/N?"

You'd laughed, a lame, tired laugh. You'd barely slept three hours, and the long-term exhaustion was starting to finally have an impact. Kaz's tone was humorless, blunt like the edge of a knife gone too long without being run across a sharpening block.

It was normally gravel, normally coffee grounds being poured into a coffee press, but it was not that, not that day. It was the unsharpened edge of a knife, the voice that did not belong to the man you loved but rather to one they called Dirtyhands.

"What's wrong with me?" You asked. "Nothing, Kaz. Nothing is wrong with me."

"Exhaustion," Kaz said. "You drink coffee and chew jurda near constantly. You sleep hours after jobs that aren't even tiring. You are constantly tired because you can't sleep unless you are at the point wherein your body will die without resting. You get two hours most nights, four, six, on luckier ones. Nina has also noticed that you eat less lately. Wylan says you've been having heart palpitations and Matthias has noticed you zoning out. Why?"

"Why do I feel like that's a rhetorical question?"

"It's not. Stop trying to flirt."

"I'm not trying to flirt," you laughed again, a shallow, hollowed out version of the laugh Kaz recognized. "If I were trying to flirt, you'd know. I would know it was working because your cheeks would be tinged pink, which, of course, is something you'd deny."

Kaz laughed humorlessly once more. "What, are you sick?"

You paused. Some part of you had known he'd guess at that. With that realization came the one that he already knew why you were sick. Inej must've known, must've snooped for Kaz when the trust you shared was still developing. He was Kaz Brekker, and he had to know somehow, didn't he?

"You're a Squaller," he said, the words falling from his lips like they were something he'd forgotten, like the fact that you could summon the wind was something he'd merely heard and disregarded after having deemed it unimportant. "You're a Squaller, and you're one who hasn't summoned for at least six months. Why not?"

"I saw no point," you said. "Let me guess, though, you've known since I came in, since I joined up?"

"I've known since the night we confronted Bolliger about double dealing," Kaz said. "Geels, the negotiations. It was the day before--"

"The day before you came to me with the Ice Court proposition," you said with a nod. "I remember. What tipped you off?"

"The breeze," Kaz said. "It was late winter, and breezes like that are commonplace, sure, but after a bout of rain? Wind like that doesn't just happen. Especially not considering the fact that it nearly tipped Geels over, and Geels was nearly seven feet tall. It gave me something to use in the moment, and I just kind of noticed whenever you'd do it while I was falling short from then on. Nobody else knows."

"Well you'll need to grant me some leniency, Brekker. I stopped summoning because I didn't see a point."

"if the point of summoning is to keep you alive and healthy, I have to say, I see no sensible reason that one would stop," Kaz said. "You're deteriorating. I know you think it can't get any worse, but it can, and it will."

"I know," you said. "Relax. Let me find the proper time, when it doesn't feel like it'll be an inconvenience, and I'll give it a go."

Kaz looked at you solemnly for a minute before he nodded.

"Right, then," he said. "Work needs doing." He turned to go, and you watched him leave, not saying a word as he left, only closing your eyes and hoping for even another few moments of rest.

The next time you summoned, it was June and you hadn't summoned in a year. You were sitting in Kaz's office, the window open as you discussed heist plans with him, Jesper, Inej, and the rest of the crows.

The heat was growing unbearable, so you willed a strong breeze to flow gently through the room, making the area feel a bit colder, much to everyones delight. Kaz shot you a look because Ketterdam in the summer was not prone to breezes on humid days like that one, and you felt some of the energy that was long gone move back into your system, a spark of joy and pride at your small science lighting up in your chest.

You allowed yourself a small smile as you leaned back in the chair you'd occupied.

You were still sick, still frail and tired and coffee-reliant, but you were getting back to normal. You decided, in the moment, that that was what mattered.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

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omniscient-wanderer-of-worlds · 1 year

Text

Laughter | Banda Sunato

Pairing: Banda Sunato x Fem!Reader

Author's note: Fine, *aggressively opens laptop* I'll just write one myself then. Also, first fic ever so uh yeah. That's how desperate I am lol. Edit: Yeah I edited it a bit because I was sleepdeprived when I wrote/posted this and got rid of horrible spelling mistakes :)

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Weird relationship (it's Banda, a serial killer and manipulative piece of shit), Violence? (because you know, it's aib?), A mention of wanting to end it all, potential spelling/grammar mistakes?

Summary: Banda Sunato takes interest in a girl he meets during a game and is captivated by her laughter

__________________________________

As soon as the 20 minute timer went off, most participant immediately scrambled to get away from the open playground and ran straight into the abandoned school to find a spot to hide from the seeker who’d be released in a one minute.

Banda Sunato hadn’t moved an inch and was instead just looking around. His eyes followed the hurrying people, an eerie smile on his face. He appeared rather amused. Content even.

You were also still standing in out in the open, right behind him and staring at the back of his blood stained shirt. “Are you not going to hide mister?" You asked. "Do you want to die?”

He turned around, no surprise visible on his face. He stared at you as if he was analyzing your face. “What about yourself?”

You flashed him a smile. “I’m still thinking about a good hiding spot.”

"I wasn't referring to that." When you tilted you head he added, "do you want to die?"

You looked around you, taking in your surroundings before looking down at you phone. It read 19:22 and was counting down. "I still have so much to do, I won't die."

Banda stared at you intently and looked you up and down. You were dressed in a white summer dress which looked a little bit too clean for this world, not a spot of dirt or blood to be found. You looked very young, young enough to still remember high school infrastructure.

"Well," he started, switching topics again, “Surely someone like you knows a good hiding spot. I'd say most students that attend highschool know the place through and through, don't they?”

You hummed in response. “Home schooled.”

Banda didn’t respond or gave any sign which you would interpret as disinterest, if not for his piercing gaze. It was starting to creep you out, but you enjoyed talking to someone as you hadn't had the opportunity to make new friends in the borderlands.

“You know, it’s my first time in a school building, so I’m actually a bit excited. Well, who knows, maybe I can explore this place after the game is over, right?” You wanted to say more, but then the school bell rang, indicating that the seeker was on the move. Even though you looked around cautiously, Banda couldn’t spot any sign of actual fear on your face. As if you knew you were getting out of here alive.

“Well then,” you said with a nod and you skipped off.

He watched you leave towards the gym building. When he heard a gun shot he decided to take it as a sign that he should probably also get moving.

He followed you in the direction of the gym, but stayed behind the square columns in front of the building, covered by shadows where he knew he was safe. He looked down at his dark green button up shirt, ripped and covered in blood. It sure worked fine as camouflage.

He could oversee the entire playground from his position, including the main entrance to the school from where he could hear gunshots. It didn't take long for the seeker to exit the school building and cross the playground.

Banda moved to the other side of a column, blocking himself from the seeker's sight. This would be easy, he thought to himself. He would simply rotate around the columns until the game was over.

Well, it was only a two of clubs after all.

The seeker entered the gym and for a second it was absolutely quiet. Banda smirked. That girl is as good as dead, he thought. And when hearing the gunshots he almost patted himself on the back for his accurate prediction, but he was stopped when he heard you laughing as if you were enjoying yourself.

He froze, completely captivated by the sound. It had been a while since he'd heard such carefree laughter. What an addictive sound. How interesting. He smiled, almost wickedly.

There was a loud crash and more shots were fired before the doors opened and slammed against the wall, revealing you.

You had tried to hide in all the way up in the huge draped curtains when your hand accidentally slipped, moving the entire curtain, which had given away your hiding spot.

You were met with a barrage of bullets that miraculously didn't hit you. As always, luck is on your side, you thought.

The bullets had however apparantly hit whatever it was that supported the heavy curtains and you fell down on top of the seeker. You quickly rolled off while he fought with the curtains, trying to get out from underneath it while also shooting around randomly.

You ran out giggling. From the corner of your eye, you saw the man you were talking to before and you stopped for a second to wave at him before hiding behind the doors that you had just kicked open.

A minute later the seeker walked out and went to look for other victims. You managed to slip back into the gym unnoticed.

The rest of the game was uneventful. There were two other incidents where gunshots were heard, but when the participants walked off the school grounds after clearing the game, it seemed as if everyone made it, as far as you could recall. Your facial recognition memory wasn't awesome.

"You seem familiar."

You turned around in surprise at his sudden voice behind you. "I highly doubt that." You said.

"What's your name?"

"You seem familiar too, what's yours?" You replied, ignoring his question.

"I asked first," he responded.

You hummed. "And I don't give my name out to strangers, so it seems as if we're at an impasse." You looked at him expectantly. When he didn't appear to have any intention of answering, you turned to leave.

"Banda Sunato." It stopped you in your tracks.

Did you know him? Of course. What else is there to do when you're isolated in your house, except read books and listen to true crime podcasts? Were you scared of him? A little, but you had your own fair share of victims since arriving in the borderlands. As did everyone here.

You gave him your name. Oh how easy you were, he thought. He could definitely charm his way to you.

"Your last name, is it the same as the former prime minister?" He asked. "I thought his child died." He commented when you hummed in acknowledgement.

"Me and my mother were shot during one of his campaigns. They managed to save me, but my father got paranoid and kept me away from, well, everything ever since." Your expression fell and looked past Banda into the distance as you recalled your dull life.

"So now you enjoy the freedom you have. You're no longer locked away, and can go wherever you please. There are no rules here, so you're discovering the world for yourself, instead of through media. It's why you're walking around with curiosity instead of falling into despair, and also why you're the only one in the game who was enjoying themselves." Banda's voice was dangerously low and his eyes dark as he scanned your face.

"I bet your isolation messed with your mind. You've probably thought of ending it all, so you aren't scared at the prospect of dying, right." He concluded for you.

You didn't answer him. Partially annoyed that he thought he was smart enough to make assumptions as if he knew you, and also annoyed because he wasn't wrong.

He had stepped closer to you during his analysis and you fought the urge to put a step back to get him out of your personal space.

"I like that." He finished. His face hovering close to yours.

You nervously laughed. "So I won't be your fifth victim then?"

Banda's smile widened as if you said something funny. "You've caught my attention. Let's be partners."

"I don't know, what's your policy on killing partners?" You asked, finding the situation ridiculous.

He leaned closer to you and you could feel his breath on your cheek. "If you pledge yourself to me, I'll show you the beauty of this world." He spoke lowly.

Now that interested you.

You opened your mouth to answer when he closed the small gap between you two, pressing his lips to yours, hand wrapping around the back of your neck, thumb against your pulse.

You've never been kissed before, but found yourself pushing back against him, grabbing onto his shirt, not lettiing go even after the kiss ended.

"Oh you meant that kind of partner." You giggled when you broke apart.

Then your giggling started to grow into a laughing fit, because how could you not if you stopped to think about the situation. You just had your first kiss with a serial killer stranger whom you just met 25 minutes ago in a life or death game in an abandoned world.

Banda relished in the sound of you, corners of his mouth curling up in satisfaction. Gotcha, he thought.

When you managed to subdue your giggles and he didn't move or say anything else, you decided to go and start walking towards your appartment with him in tow.

"Your shirt is ripped and covered in dirt and blood." You said while wiping away the blood on your hands from grabbing his shirt.

You flashed him a smile. "Luckily for you, I have a clean light blue button up shirt at home."

Part 2 ( +18 content)

Part 3

#alice in borderland #banda x reader #sunato banda #sunato banda x reader #banda imagine #sunato x reader #banda sunato #banda sunato x reader #aib #banda fic #oc #banda x you #banda sunato x you

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blitzyn · 1 year

Text

payback

venti x m!reader

request : none

Synopsis: You thought that stealing the Anemo God's gnosis from him was going to be easy.

second part

a/n -> i accidentally slammed my fingertip against two pieces of wood it hurts so much omg -- but onto the actual fic. this is my first time writing noncon so if anything is inaccurate please let me know. and just a quick warning, i have no idea how to write venti because hes not my favorite character nor do i have him and i prefer writing more serious characters so i made this mainly to challenge myself. do not expect more venti fics in the future. im sorry if this is absolute dogshit lmao. i also dont condone non-con in real life, this is just a work of fiction

wc -> 3.3k

cw -> non-con, forced orgasm, anal sex, public sex, thigh-fucking, fighting, cum and spit as lube, harbinger reader, ooc venti :(, i believe in big dick venti argue with the wall, size difference, reader is taller than him but is the bottom lol, not beta read

Venti mindlessly hummed to himself, leaning his back against the rough wood of the large oak tree that stood proudly in Windrise. He had a relatively long day performing at Angel's Share, but, as much as he loved doing so, he wanted to spend some time by himself.

The tree he laid on was his favorite spot to relax in. The leaves created a comforting rustle within the soft breeze alongside the cheerful birdsong to invent a new symphony he enjoyed. He found that not one was the same, no matter how similar they sounded. It was akin to snowflakes fluttering down the sky during the wintry months; seemingly identical but always different.

It took him a moment or two to realize that the birds suddenly stopped chirping. He sat up curiously to look for them when he felt slightly uneasy. Like he was about to be —

"Woah!" he exclaimed as he jumped off of the tree branch. He was unable to discern what attacked him. The perpetrator was fast. But he was able to figure out that they used Electro as crackles of electricity lingered around the wood for a moment longer.

He was mid-air when they attacked again, sending large hands of the same purple electricity to each side of his body. He quickly created a ball of Anemo large enough for him to step on, jumping off of it just as the hands made contact with each other. They disappeared almost instantly.

He finally landed on his feet, head swiveling this way and that to find his attacker. He tensed and summoned his bow when he finally spotted them leisurely walking along the path to the tree and his statue.

"So you're Barbatos, huh?" you thoughtfully hummed. "I have to say, I'm a little surprised. I expected you to look... less outlandish."

"You say that but your outfit sings of blatant hypocrisy," he studied you. You walked elegantly, as if you had done this countless times before. You were dressed in uniquely formal clothing — like you were attending an important gala.

"Maybe so, but I'm not the god here, now am I?" you said. "I've heard of archons changing their appearances to better fit in with their people as citizens, but yours is quite disappointing."

You looked at his statue then back at him. "The entire city doesn't recognize you despite the painfully obvious signs in front of them. They're just plain stupid."

"Do not talk to my people that way as if yours aren't widely disliked-" he furrowed his brows before adding a title. "-Harbinger."

"If you are referring to the Fatui as 'my people', then you are sorely mistaken," you raised a brow. "I couldn't care less about them."

He sighed. "My apologies. I thought you would've at least found some solace with them since you've been exiled from your last one."

"They did not exile me," you corrected. "I did it on my own accord."

"Really."

You rolled your eyes with an annoyed exhale. "No matter. There is little use in arguing with one such as you."

He watched as dark purple hands covered your eyes. Electro crackled up to your wrists as you swiftly swung your arms together. The same hands from before appeared instantaneously to repeat your movements. They would've crushed him if he was anyone else, but he was able to dodge them just in time.

He quickly retaliated, but found that his regular arrows were unable to penetrate through your electricity. To be able to destroy them in such a way made him realize that you were at least ranked 5th. The sheer power of your Electro was capable of completely disintegrating his arrows and the ground when it made contact — it was obvious what it would've done to someone who didn't have either yours or Venti's fighting prowess.

One hand focused on your defense while the other attacked him with blinding speed.

He began to create his arrows with Anemo, the tips of his fingers glowing his signature teal as he forged them on the spot. Bits of electricity was swirled from your hand as it mixed in with his wind, though it lasted only for a second.

He jumped when the hand swiped at him from the side. He stopped his descent with an orb of Anemo, noticing the slightest hesitation in your movements as he did so. His eyes widened in intrigue. You were fighting him blind.

He jumped on several more platforms before he found himself directly above you, this time creating three arrows at one time. The whistle of the projectiles piercing the air alerted you instantly, your defensive hand shielding your body as the offensive one shot straight at him.

Venti was forced back onto the ground just as the large hole within your hand regenerated. He smiled to himself. Your speed and reaction time alone was a force to be reckoned with. He was going to have to put in a bit of effort, after all.

He drew his bow and ran up to you, ignoring the attacking hand to shoot his arrow at point-blank range. Although the hands covered the majority of your face, you seemed visibly surprised with his action. You quickly recovered to just barely dodge and replace one of your hands with a sword of pure Electro, swinging hard and fast enough to create an arc of electricity that carved a deep line into the ground.

You momentarily paused when a sharp, stinging pain erupted on your face. Your finger gently pressed onto a cut on your cheek, wincing as you realized that most of the pain was intensified by the swirl of Anemo and Electro. You frowned.

You recreated your offensive hand to begin your attacks once again, increasing your speed just the slightest bit. To an outsider, it would seem as if everything was a blur between the two of you. You raised your arms above your head and swung them down, your hands following suit. He used a strong arrow of Anemo to make a hole big enough for him to jump through.

He stood on a platform and recreated his attack from before, only this time, he forged far more arrows than before and shot them at you. As predicted, your defensive hand protected you from most of them before you realized that they were causing numerous holes.

You managed to dodge a few of them, but you were ultimately unable to keep up, forcing you to draw your blade once more. You slashed at the sky, destroying the remaining arrows with yet another arc. You heard a rustling to your right, and your stomach dropped.

You swung your sword as fast as you could, but alas, you were no true match for a god. He shot an arrow through your blade, rendering it completely useless. Before you were able to do anything, he twisted his body to roundhouse kick you.

You gasped for air, losing focus of your hands as they disintegrated. The ones on your face crumbled and revealed your eyes as they were met with Venti's. He had an arrow held up to your neck as he straddled you, pressing a hand on your shoulder to keep you down for good.

"I win," he grinned at your scowling expression.

"Hey!" he dragged the arrow against your skin for a second when you tried to summon the hands again. You kissed your teeth in annoyance.

"You're good, I'll give you that," he said. "But it was never enough to beat me."

"Just kill me already," you rolled your eyes. You seemed very relaxed despite your words.

"Kill you?" he parroted. "I'm not going to kill you."

You were very confused. You had just attacked him out of nowhere and now he's willing to spare you?

"But I'm not going to let you free without compensation."

"What are you going to do, then?" you questioned, warily watching as he slid down your body a bit to rest on your crotch.

Oh.

"I think you know."

Discomfort settled in your chest. "But first, I want to know something. Why did you attack me?"

"Why do you think a Harbinger would willingly fight a god?" you answered his question with one of your own. But he wanted to hear you say it.

"I dunno. There could be a multitude of reasons."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "I need your Gnosis."

He tilted his head. "Why do you need my Gnosis?"

"I do not question Her Majesty's requests."

"So... you don't know?"

You didn't answer him this time. But he didn't need your words now that he knows why you're here.

With a hum, he adjusted himself to kneel beside you as his fingers dipped below the waistband of your pants. He pulled them off and tossed them to the side, your underwear following close behind. He gazed at your bare legs as he undid his corset and tugged his shorts off.

You refused to see his dick, but the quiet, wet noises he emitted told you that he must have spat on it. His hands moved your thighs so they squeezed together as he began to push his dick between them. He sighed in content, relishing in the pleasurable sensation your plush flesh offered him.

He began with a steady pace that increased in speed after every thrust of his hips. You were quiet in discomfort, letting him do as he pleased if it meant you would leave faster. Besides, you still had a chance to take his Gnosis — all you had to do was not fuck it up.

You could feel the front of his thighs pressing against your ass as his cock rubbed against you. It was slimy with his saliva and warm and you absolutely hated it. It took a lot to keep yourself from outwardly cringing, but it seemed as if your efforts were for naught as he quickly noticed your disgust.

"What? Can't a Harbinger handle this?" he teased, slightly leaning over your knees.

"Not with perverts like you."

"Oh, woe is me!" he exclaimed. "But you must fulfill your end of the bargain. I do hope you understand."

"Bargain? What bargain?!" you shouted, accidentally tensing your thighs - much to his pleasure. He let out a moan-mixed giggle, forcing you to relax again

His face was flushed red as his cock hardened. You gently jolted up and down as his thrusts increased in fervor, your skin slick with saliva and pre-cum. His noises grew louder as he inched closer and closer to his orgasm, nails digging into your flesh.

He tossed his head back and moaned shamelessly as his cum spurted across your stomach. He fucked your thighs for a few moments longer before he let go of them, sighing contentedly.

You released a quiet scoff and sat up.

"We're not done, yet," Venti forced you back down, scooping his cum off the fabric of your shirt before most of it seeped through. He jerked himself off for a brief second before prying your legs open.

You looked at him in concern, eyes drifting downwards. You tried to close your legs at the size of his cock. He was big. Bigger than you thought for someone of his short stature.

You flinched when he spat a thick glob of saliva on your hole.

"Wait—wait. I can give you Mora instead." you attempted to entice him with a suggestion.

"Tempting offer," he didn't seem interested.

"Then what do you want?"

He looked up. "Why are you so nervous? Surely, you're not a virgin, are you?"

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. "No."

"Really? You sure are acting like one."

"I just haven't done... this..." you trailed off.

"I suppose it's to be expected," he hummed. "A Harbinger like you doesn't seem like the type to be on the bottom."

You swallowed hard.

"But don't worry. I'll make this memorable."

He used a hand to guide his cock to your entrance, forcing his way inside with a groan. You tensed, attempting to bite down your pained cry by gritting your teeth. You tried to kick him away, but he simply took hold of your ankle and pushed your leg to your chest.

It felt like he was splitting you apart with each agonizing inch. He intently stared at you, watching your face as it morphed from nervousness to fear then to distressed and pained. You struggled to free your legs from his grasp, but your efforts were futile as he tightened his grip enough to numb the spots he held.

You tried to use your Vision, your wrists crackling with electricity. Venti quickly reacted and shoved the rest of his dick inside you. You cried out, losing focus of your power. A burning sensation emanated from your hole that was given little time to settle as the god began to thrust.

He set a fervent pace, uncaring of your agonized grunts and whimpers. The pain was dizzying. It mixed in with the strain he placed on your leg to push it close to your torso. The slight fold of your body put enough pressure on your chest to limit some of your breathing, which was an increasing worry since he fucked you hard enough to force the air out of your lungs.

Despite his small body, he was capable of easily towering over you. As the burn finally faded away, you were able to recognize shocks of anger coursing through your body at the sight of his cerise-tinted cheeks and small smile. His mouth was slightly ajar to release moans and pleasured sighs, and you longed to shove your sword down his throat.

Your anger was amplified as the tip of his cock began to press up against your prostate, the undertones of shame ever present. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood in order to conceal your noises, but your slowly hardening cock relayed more than enough information to him.

His turquoise eyes squinted as his smile grew.

"Look at you," he placed a leg on his shoulder. "You're — ah — enjoying this."

"No I'm n–not." Your breathy voice was a complete contrast to your words.

"There's no point in resisting it any longer," he wrapped a hand around your cock to begin stroking it. He fanned the flame of ecstasy within your abdomen, spreading the heat throughout your body. The sudden tighten of your hole had Venti faltering, his hips jolting forward arrhythmically as he came with a loud moan.

You could feel his cock throbbing, prompting you to start uncomfortably squirming in place. Well, as much as you could. The two of you sat in silence until he let go of your ankle and leaned forward to tuck a hand underneath your back to move you close to him. In a swift movement, he lifted you both up from the floor.

Surprised, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he walked towards his statue. You only realized he took you there when the cold stone permeated through your shirt, looking up instinctively. You grit your teeth. Was he provoking you? Rubbing in the fact that you lost your battle?

Your eyes were met with his cheeky grin, which slowly washed away into something more focused as he started to thrust again. You were a bit surprised, but you suppose you shouldn't underestimate a god's stamina. Even then, over-sensitivity should begin to settle in, now. This could be your chance.

He kept up the fervent pace from before, though this time, the new angle allowed him to brush up against your prostate with better accuracy. You knew he wasn't trying to make you feel good, so you muffled your noises with your hand in fruitless resistance.

Skin slapping and Venti's shameless moans echoed throughout the vast plains. You felt almost unbearably hot with the closeness of your bodies and you began to wish you were granted a Cryo Vision to cool yourself off. But he wouldn't allow the use of anything, so you guess it wouldn't make much of a difference either way.

You let out a startled yelp when his hand wrapped around your throbbing cock, jerking you off in time with his thrusts. A sensation akin to electricity ran up and down your spine. You noticed that he began to whimper a lot more frequently, and with the way he slowly lost the rhythm in his thrusts, you knew he was close again.

And you were too — as much as you hated to admit it. You could feel the heat in your stomach amplify with each passing second.

"You're so tight," his voice sounded a bit strained. "You're about to — ah — cum, aren't you?"

"You're," you paused with a quiet curse. "delusional."

"Don't lie to yourself," is all he said before he sped up his hand, forcing ragged pants and soft moans you couldn't hide behind your palm. As if taken over by the haze of lust, you buried your face within his hat, tightened your legs around his waist, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

With nothing to conceal your moans, they mixed in with Venti's in an erotic symphony. You tensed and arched your back as the pool of arousal in your abdomen amplified until it completely washed over you. Your cock spurted cum over both of you as he continued to jerk you off until he was satisfied.

Luckily, it didn't take too long for him to finally orgasm for the third time. A bit of his cum spilled out of your hole despite his dick still inside you.

His eyes were tightly shut, overcome with bliss and ecstasy. You were able to recognize the opportunity he accidentally gave you. Ignoring the slight burn he forced on your dick as he continued to stroke you, you reeled your free arm back as much as you could before jabbing it straight in his chest.

There was a bright teal light that shone where you plunged your hand. Everything felt airy — and a little strange — until you managed to find something solid. Quickly grabbing it, you removed your hand. Weakened, he was unable to hold the both of you up.

You forced your legs down as soon as you felt his grip on you falter, watching him fall to the ground. He was visibly surprised as he stared at you with wide eyes full of disbelief and a bit of anger.

Not wasting any more time, you enveloped yourself with electricity, retrieved your missing clothes, and left.

—•—

You sighed in exhaustion after finally finding a safe place to rest. Leaning against a large tree, you put your underwear and pants back on. You grimaced hard as more of his cum began to leak out of your hole, skin crawling in disgust. But you would need to endure it until you found a suitable body of water or got back to Snezhnaya. Out of both of them, you preferred the former.

You looked at the god's Gnosis in wonder. It was small and you turned it around to fully examine it. It was mainly teal but had silver designs and what seemed to be a crown. It reminded you of a chess piece.

Sighing yet again, you tucked it in a pocket and began making your way to the spot that was going to transport you back to Snezhnaya.

Despite knowing there was nobody to watch you and Venti, there was an anchor of shame weighing in your chest. No matter. You just need to make sure nobody knew of what had transpired in Windrise.

Besides, you would gladly shave off bits of your dignity and pride if it meant pleasing Her Majesty. Especially after she had taken you in many years ago.

Trying to will away the shame, you repeated a phrase in your mind.

Anything for the Tsaritsa.

cross-posted on ao3

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3terna15unshin3 · 7 months

Note

a blurb of them at a halloween party would heal me!! (smut but also super cutie cus they’re my babies)

Kneel

—

a/n: hey bff thank u for the request and happy halloween :-)

Read the main fic here if u want more Matty and Este!

—

cw: 18+, minors DNI, alcohol consumption, kinky religious undertones that will hit hard if you’ve seen Fleabag season 2, oral (m receiving), dom!matty vibes ish, praise, cumplay maybe??, also a bit wordy at the start lol

Matty zipped up the back of her jumpsuit for her, since Este couldn’t reach it herself. She was in the midst of covering her nose and mouth with fake blood.

“Easy with that stuff, hey? You’re going to make it impossible for me to kiss you,” he complained, making eye contact with her through the mirror in front of them.

She laughed, running her hands under the tap to wash the excess red off her hands, and then turned around. Her arms raised to adjust the Roman collar surrounding his neck. “A bit of blood has never stopped you in the past.”

His jaw dropped. “We’ll have to put some time aside for confession tonight, with that dirty mind of yours.” He said with a chuckle, playing up the priest costume suited over his body and shaking his head at her suggestive joke.

“I’ll hold you to that offer, actually.” Este giggled.

Before heading out the door, she stole a cigarette from the box in Matty’s pocket to hold between her fingers as a prop—her other hand cradling a small stuffed guinea pig. Fleabag was their favourite show, after all.

When they arrived at Charli’s, music was pulsating through the floorboards and hoards of people filled the space. She was great at throwing a party, so that’s what was expected.

Matty had handfuls of friends to greet but he did it all with his hand still linked with hers or around her waist. By now, they were mostly familiar faces, so it didn’t phase her. Many complimented their costumes; and those who didn’t recognise it, got an earful from Este about how the show it was in reference to was an absolute must-watch. Matty, who was slightly less passionate about spreading the Fleabag agenda, just sat back and watched in adoration. He loved seeing her addiction to sharing things she loves with others.

He also shamelessly basked in the feeling of being called ‘hot priest’ by everyone. If anyone called him just the ‘priest’, he’d correct them, and Este would roll her eyes.

By the time they’d gone round to see everyone, Ross (dressed as Indiana Jones) had shoved drinks into their hands, and had even come back a second time with more rounds. They were buzzed before settling into a spot in the corner of the lounge where the rest of the guys and their partners had gotten comfortable.

After him and Este pulled each of them in for an embrace, Matty took the last free seat and grabbed her by the waist to sit down on his lap.

“Welcome, welcome,” Charli loudly greeted over the music, while hanging onto George’s shoulder, “You guys have gotten some drinks right? You’re good? I’ve got some off limits special stuff I’m willing to share if you want anything more,”

Este thanked her for the offer but shook her head. “Ross had us very taken care of the minute we walked in, so I think we’re all good,”

Ross raised his glass and nodded his head at the mention of his chronic need to make sure that nobody ever had an empty hand.

“You look hot, by the way,” commented Carly, earning a wide smile from Este as she eyed her and Adam and their costumes. They were dressed as the twins from The Shining.

“I’d say the same about you babe. But not hotter than Hann, unfortunately,” She replied, giggling at his blonde wig. He flicked the fake hair upwards with sass in response to her compliment, making the whole group laugh.

Matty’s hands stayed there on her hips for the next few hours, only removing themselves periodically when they got up to mingle or to get another drink or when Este heard a song she wanted to dance to. But otherwise, his touch was glued to her.

It was starting to drive him crazy that that was all he could do, though. She grew increasingly flirty with him as the night went on; making sure to grind her ass deeper into his lap every time she towered forward to grab crisps off the coffee table, or leaning her back into his chest to turn and give him a kiss on the jaw, or leaving her hand way too far up his thigh. Matty wanted more—but she couldn’t give him that.

Then, Charli brought her point-and-shoot camera out and people began to pose. Everyone messily heaped into groups and threw middle fingers and peace signs up and the camera flashed repeatedly. Once most guests and their costumes were captured at least a couple of times, she came over to Este and grabbed her by the arm.

“We need a photo, E! Come outside,”

The excited and tipsy host made Este stand with her, serving looks down the lens and playfully posing together.

“Wait! I should light my cig!” exclaimed Este, still holding the unlit one between her fingers. She reached around the corner for Matty and gestured to his pocket, wordlessly asking him to do it for her.

Este insisted on holding eye contact with him as she grasped the smoke between her lips and he held the flame underneath its end. It made Matty swoon, seeing her suck her cheeks in and then blow the smoke out the side of her mouth.

She enjoyed a joint and its high here and there, but wasn’t as big of a smoker as him, and was rarely caught messing with nicotine. So, the sight was a bit unusual—and it turned Matty on.

After more photos with Charli, Este shoved her phone into her hand and dragged Matty into the frame. He complied, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist and giving the lens his attention. They smiled together, earning a collective ‘aw’ from the people around the room who looked.

They took turns altering expressions, some serious and some silly (like when Este stood proudly while Matty grabbed her tits from behind, peeking his head out to the side); all while she only held the lit cigarette without smoking it.

But for one photo, Matty watched her take a drag. She then looked up at him through her black eyelashes, and leaned in without saying anything. Gulping, he followed her action and leaned in as well, realising that Este wanted to shotgun the smoke she’d just inhaled.

So he parted his lips and breathed in as she blew the smoke into them, locking her gaze again. He felt the buzz immediately, and Este smirked with just millimetres between them before pulling away.

Matty swore he felt his dick twitch in his pants—and even thought he saw Este squeeze her legs together in his peripheral vision. Luckily, he also saw Charli capture the moment with both her camera and Este’s iPhone, so at least he’d have evidence that it actually happened. And that he didn’t just dream it up.

“Okay, you guys are sexy. I get it. Can you take some of me and George now?”

—

Este’s behaviour wasn’t innocent and unknowing. He knew she was riling him up on purpose. So in return, as soon as they stepped foot back into their shared house, Matty had her pinned against the wall. They’d barely made it into the corridor.

She gasped, but quickly gave in and kissed him with hunger.

“Something wrong, Father?” Este asked breathily, breaking away for air and tugging at his collar.

His hands tangled in her hair and yanked it backwards to make her head tilt up. “You’ve been very sinful tonight,”

Their lips hungrily reconnected, kissing with open mouths. Este grabbed him over his pants, drawing a hiss out of Matty. She then felt his hand trail up from her waist, over her chest, and onto her neck. He pressed lightly on the sides of her throat. She moaned into his mouth.

“Will you forgive me if I repent?” She asked, while slipping her fingers past his waistband.

“We’ll see. Only if you’re good for me,” Matty answered in a low voice. He grew rock hard as Este pumped him up and down a couple times in his pants. He breathed heavily and made pretty sounds when she dragged her thumb over his sensitive tip.

“I will. I swear,” begged Este.

“Then kneel.”

Sinking to her knees, she took his length out of his pants and gave it a kiss like she was worshipping it. Her flattened tongue ran up its underside from the base, taking his head into her mouth when she reached the top.

Matty shuddered, cradling her jaw with his palm. “Fuck,” he choked out.

She swirled her tongue around him before taking a breath and bringing him farther. His cock hit the back of her throat, making her gag and then moan with pleasure. The vibrations made Matty buck his hips forward and hit her maximum again.

Este's hand did the work her mouth couldn’t reach, setting a comfortable pace and gripping the back of his thigh with her other one. His skin tasted salty and made her shift her hips in desperation.

Matty then gathered her messy hair into one section behind her head. “You said you’re gonna be good for Father, right? Will you show me how good you are?”

She let out a muffled moan to say yes, attempting to nod while her mouth was full of him and her head bobbed up and down. Wetness accumulated between her legs.

“Okay. Then take me like the good girl.”

He steadied her head, gripping it with both hands, and gently thrust his hips. Este opened her jaw wider and took a breath while she could, before Matty thrusted into her again.

He went easy on her to make sure everything was alright, even though her was fully aware that she loved having her face fucked. Este loved pleasing him, letting him take control, and tasting him down her throat. It could make her cum on the spot.

Not long afterwards, he tightened his grip on her hair and brought her mouth down even deeper onto his cock. “That’s it, baby.” He praised, jaw slack with euphoria as her throat constricted around him.

Tears gathered in the corner of Este’s eyes, her nose repeatedly grazing the hairy skin of his pelvis. His thrusts grew relentless. The filthy sounds of her mouth around him echoed through their entryway and mixed with their combined moans.

His head threw itself backwards and he groaned every time Este’s warm mouth swallowed him. “Shit, you were fucking made for me,” Matty said, after bringing his attention back down to the sight of her. Spit dripped down her chin. Her lips grew red at the way they were stretched around his cock.

“Just a bit more. You’re taking me so well,” moaned Matty, feeling his orgasm creeping up. They both knew he wouldn’t last long.

Este was a champ, squeezing her eyes shut as he fucked faster to chase his end. To finish him off, she hollowed her cheeks and stiffened her tongue beneath him, feeling the vein that ran down the underside of his cock, bobbing her head again to meet him halfway.

His hips rammed into her face a couple of more times, before he cried, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. E, I’m—”, and then came.

She sprung up, finally able to take a breath, letting Matty watch his cum spill onto her tongue. His tip sat above her open mouth and ropes of white pooled into it.

Este let it drip out and down onto her cleavage that was exposed through the cutout of her jumpsuit. Raising her hand and wrapping it back around his cock, she milked him of every last drop. The sudden prolonged pleasure made Matty’s hips buckle up, fucking her fist and spilling more of his seed onto her chest.

“Am I forgiven, Father?” she asked after swallowing fully, even dragging a finger through the cum on her tits and then sucking it clean.

Matty’s chest heaved up and down, and his head was so hazy from the mind numbing climax he was attempting to recover from that all he could do was nod. He caressed the top of her head with his shaky hand, then brought it down to drag his thumb over her lips.

It formed into a smile as Este looked up at him, his expression being shamelessly fucked out and giddy.

“I think I actually did just see God.”

#tbsg #meste blurb #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy x oc #the 1975 #matty healy fic #smut #matty healy smut

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