#my issue is I hardly ever drink but when i do i DRINK!!! and i don’t stop until someone tells me to?

[huskersbooze]

Who's in Control?

Alastor x Reader

| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?

Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)

Warnings : swear words

Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)

Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off

Word count : 1.8k

"Good morning, dear."

"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.

"How was your sleep, darling?"

"It was good! And yours?"

"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."

The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.

-----

You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.

And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.

He was growing a soft-spot for you.

It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.

Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.

But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.

“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.

“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”

“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.

“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”

“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”

“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”

“Al and I are just friends.”

“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”

“Still, we're just friends-”

“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”

“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”

The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.

“He owns my soul..?”

“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”

“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”

You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.

But you were confused.

“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”

“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”

“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”

“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”

“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.

“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”

“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”

“About..?”

“What it means to sell your soul.”

“I know what it means, Al said-”

“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”

“Because you like your job..?”

“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”

“Who..?”

“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”

And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.

He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.

He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.

He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.

And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.

“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”

“Yup.” Angel nods.

“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”

“Exactly.” Husk replies.

“And there's no escaping this contract..?”

“No.” The two reply together.

“Fuck.”

-----

“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.

There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.

“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”

“You alright, kid?”

“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.

The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.

And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.

“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.

Everyone turns their attention towards her.

Everyone but Alastor.

He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.

How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?

But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?

He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.

Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.

“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”

“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.

Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.

“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.

“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.

“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”

“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?

“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”

“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.

Alastor stiffens, then laughs.

“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”

“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”

You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.

Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.

What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?

“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.

Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.

“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”

“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”

You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.

“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”

“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”

“Dear, please, listen to me..!”

“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”

He pauses.

“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.

-----

“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”

“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”

“About the deal?”

“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”

“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”

“No.”

“Well, why not?”

“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."

“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.

“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”

Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.

“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”

“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”

“I surely hope you're correct."

———/ TBC. /———

READ PART 2 HERE

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor fluff #alastor x you #alastor hazbin x reader #radio demon #huskerdust #hazbin hotel angel #angel dust #angel hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #husker #husk #angel dust x husk #hazbin husk #overlords

[hoseoksluna]

WINE | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader

genre: smut

word count: 4.7k

summary: both of you have a party to go to, but jungkook makes you needy again.

playlist: it's jeon time / pinterest board: wine

warnings: forced drinking, neck kissing, dom/sub dynamics, use of pet names and one particular title <3, degradation and praise, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), sensual dancing, dirty talk, spanking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, squirting, rough sex, plushie used during intercourse, hair pulling, jungkook needing to be in control, the importance of dom/sub role-play being just a role-play and not extending past the sex practice, aftercare

note: this was meant to be a fluff fic with jimin but then jungkook x calvin klein happened and i was fucked. my libido was awakened by that man, my ovulation triggered by his seductiveness and fucking godly beauty. this might be tmi, but i genuinely felt turned on while writing this, so i hope you enjoy. my bestie who always reads my work first said that my jungkook fics are vastly different from the ones with other members, and i agree. the sole reason behind it is the simple fact that jungkook owns my sexuality. so, yeah. please, show some love in the comments. happy reading!!

side note: HAPPY BDAY HOBI ᡣ𐭩

“A bit tipsy, aren’t we?”

You’re twirling. Twirling in golden circles as the late afternoon sunset traces the curves of your figure with its fingers, giving willingly a brisk dose of vigor to the movement as your delicately tousled curls spin around you. The warm light hits the shimmer on the highest points of your cheeks—coalesces with the glitter and you smile at the sun, fluttering your eyes shut. The ardent giggle spilling out of the mouth of your close friend is the music you dance to, and it helps your smile to grow in width.

You have somewhere to be. Both of you do. But you deem this is more important—it is your pregame after all, even though the wine glass in your hand is empty. Small drops of the white nectar make traces on the parquet floor, leaving behind the evidence of your joy, light as a feather somewhere within you. 

Freshly showered, Jungkook watches the show you put on for him. With one shoulder, he leans against the large wardrobe and rolls his sleeves upwards on his forearms, wrists adorned with golden bracelets that tinkle with each effort. He does it slowly, blindly. Prefers to focus on you, and not on the task he’s done too many times. You face him, aware of his warm gaze, and you lean your glass towards his chest, tilting your head to the side. 

“Barely,” you say. “Had one glass. Have another one with me?”

Jungkook smiles fondly, dropping his eyes to his wrists as he fixes the stacking of the thick gold. The cherry wood accentuates his countenance in a way that magnetically pulls you closer to him. Your legs act on their own, feet making their way to his. Something about the way they are shod in shiny dress shoes and yours are bare, toenails painted in cotton candy pink, drives a certain scarlet hue to go mad upon your dew-kissed face. Or maybe it’s the fact you two fucked hardly an hour ago that does it. You’ve always liked the scene, in which you’re naked and he’s fully dressed. Or it’s your ever persistent daddy issues and your obsession with Lolita. Maybe it’s a mixture of both.

You notice a ring on his pinky finger as he sweeps his ebony hair back. It wasn’t there when he had those digits wrapped around your throat in missionary. You take his inked hand to get a closer look, noticing the engraving of his last name. His father must have the same one. You caress it with your thumb. Its yellow gleam seeps into your skin—illuminates you and envelops you in its aura, fixing a heavenly halo above your head. You find yourself smiling when you look up at him and find that he’s been gazing down at you the whole time, his very own angel.

“If I were to have a glass of wine with you,” he mutters, and the mischievous twinkle that appears in his eyes excites you in a way that angels shouldn’t be provoked. “Then, there would be no party to go to.”

You know what he means, but you play dumb. You want to hear him say it.

“How so?” you ask and you widen your eyes softly to appear more alluring. You’re not sure if your body would handle another round, but you do enjoy the teasing—you enjoy the talk, the chase, the fuzzy feelings in your tummy.

Jungkook straightens and reaches for the bottle on the coffee table four steps away from you. Sinks the body of the glass onto his palm, pouring a good amount of the liquid inside. Nibbles his bottom lip as he stalks towards you, handing you the nectar, although he doesn’t let go. Your fingers wrap around his and it’s him who does the first move—lifting his arm to tilt the glass to your mouth. He’s gentle, a safe distance away to watch his whimsy unfold, but firm. He doesn’t lower his hand until the spillage of the gilded liquid trickles down your throat. Only then does he chuckle, setting the glass down. Satisfied.

Dizziness stirs your mind and you hardly have time to take a breather before Jungkook latches his mouth onto your wine-stained neck, tongue coming out to play—cleaning you up in figure eights that cause you to roll your eyes back. The ends of your curls tickle the back of his hand as he brushes his fingers along the dip of your spine, the skin bare in the open back of your knitted dress—made perfect for his sly touches.

He doesn’t press you against his body when he begins to suck on your neck; he still keeps the distance. Perhaps to make you needy, perhaps to make you ask for more. And it’s working, the magnetic pull does its thing once more and you roll your chest against his, aching to fit in the spaces of his figure that you know full well are there for you to hide in. Your nipples perk up at the slight attention, and electrifying sparks glide down the perimeters of your form in a way that you wish his hands would.

Absentmindedly, you touch them and Jungkook notices as he switches to the other side of your neck, the more sensitive one, the one that always leaves you dripping with your essence. You let him know, vocally, how much you like him there, and the sounds of pleasure you utter into his ear force him to pull out his phone from his pocket, steal your hand from your breast and place it in your palm.

He withdraws with a pop, plump lips coming to trace the shell of your ear. “I think we need some music,” he whispers, fingers skimming the curve of your ass. “Can you play some? Can you do that for me?”

Oh, that degradation kink of his. He knows he flung you out of his world into a pretty pink planet somewhere out there in the universe with that skilled tongue of his. He knows how dumb you get when horniness flushes your body with heat—he knows it intimately, for he’s the one who fucks you, the one you give yourself to when you blossom with the need to do so. He’s the one who opens the petals one by one, never to tear them, but to smell them, kiss them, hover them over the tender skin of his face just to be close to you. He knows you and he knows how to play with you just how you like it.

And you like to get into this state of mind. You like to be degraded, even though you’ll never admit it. You particularly like to get degraded by Jungkook.

Because of that reason, he likes to awaken it in you, beckon it to come out. How he found out is beyond your understanding. You reckon he sensed it while having your orgasms in his control. Somewhere in that dynamic, he found a little nook of a library and its contents fell into his grasp when he sank his fingers inside of you. All he had to do was read. And, also, listen.

Your bodily and vocal reactions didn’t protest.

You can’t even see his lockscreen, the numbers as you type in his mother’s birthday because Jungkook begins to toy with your earlobe, nibbling at the flesh ever so slightly. The pleasure, the wine getting into your head—it’s all suddenly too much. Paradoxically, you find the app somehow without looking out of a habit you learned throughout the months you’ve been casually seeing him, for Jungkook never fucks without his ‘It’s Jeon Time’ sex playlist. And he always wants you to pick out the first song. 

It impacts what he does to you later.

You scroll and you tap on a random song.

No BS by Chris Brown.

You return the phone and Jungkook begins to pepper soft kisses on your throat, pocketing the device. A sudden throbbing on your bundle of nerves makes you tenderly whine and in your head, you curse him out for making you needy again. He pretends not to hear you, making a way to your chin. He kisses it. Ghosts his lips over yours, puckers them to tease you and hums in appreciation for the song. You grab him everywhere you can. Hair, neck, shoulders. Squeezing. As if he hadn’t fucked the soul out of you earlier. As if you weren’t spent. And he just laughs.

No matter how soft the sound is, it forces all of the peach fuzz on your body to rise.

Oh, you’ve made him horny. You’re fucked.

No party for you.

“Good little girl,” he coos, grabbing your ass and pulling you flush to his body. The praise before the degradation—the calm before the storm. “Can always expect the best from you. You never fail to please me.”

His hardness greets you first, pressed torturously against your mound. You mewl at the feeling, but he silences you. His lips are second to say a playful hello as they delve into a firm kiss, hand grasping your hair in his fist. He inhales against you and before the two of you know it, you’re moving your bodies to the slow, sensual rhythm of the song. Jungkook kisses you again, parts your lips with his and slips his tongue inside. 

Just to taste you, briefly.

He spins you around. 

Towering over you, he wraps his arms around your middle and sways with you, pushing your hair to one side, so he can focus on your neck once more. Gliding his lips up and down your neck, nose nuzzling into the safe space there near your ear, he inhales again, your scent being the translucent ship that gets him to heavenly places he dreams of every now and then. He guides you with his hips, needing to be in control of everything, even of something as insignificant as a simple, intimate dance. You love it, you could never get enough of it. The stability being the foundation that holds it is what attracts you to it, the stability that you never had, the one that your inner child deserves. 

Palms flat on your tummy, Jungkook drifts them down and stops at your hips, fingers reaching your mound. 

“Those hips will be the death of me,” he murmurs, caressing your sides while continuing guiding you, pressing you just right against his prominent length. “Did you really expect me not to get hard seeing you dance like that?” 

You bite your lip, furrowing your eyebrows, rotating your hips to the chorus of the song, head empty. 

Jungkook grunts. The sound intoxicates you even more.

“My princess doesn’t really know what she’s doing to me, does she?” He hooks his fingers under the hem of your dress. “Too horny, too needy to think, hm?”

Shamelessly, you nod. “Want you again. Want to feel you inside of me.” 

Jungkook hums, then breaks into a gentle laughter. Lifts your garment and lets his fingers roam on your clothed folds, the white fabric drenched in your dewiness—pellucid enough to show the beauty of your flesh. 

Aware of how wet you are, he clicks his tongue. “You filthy girl, how many times do I have to fuck you in order for you to have enough?”

You grow silent. Brimming with a woozy desire, you opt to grind your ass against him again. Your brain cannot come up with any smart answer that would please him, so this is the best you could do. Jungkook curses under his breath, leans back to watch you. He meets each and every movement of your hips and completes them, creating waves that spur the butterflies in your belly to life. 

“Filthy”—He spanks you—“Fucking”—Another spank—“Girl.”

Knees bent, Jungkook grinds against your core, cutting short your hissing. He turns you around and bends you against the wardrobe, places your hands flat on the cherry wood. Takes off your panties swiftly and lets them pool by your ankles. Spanks you below your ass cheek, moaning at the lift and ripple of your plumpness. Does it again on the other one, letting out a sound that makes your dewiness, similarly like the wine down the sides of your neck, leak and stick to your inner thighs. Something between a dark chuckle, a moan and a purr of endearment. 

“What am I to do with such a greedy girl like you?” he says, fingers tracing each curve of your ass to etch the memory of it deeper into his brain. “You deserve to be fucked like this. Mercilessly, for my pleasure. Like the little slut you are. But I’ll be good to you.” 

He pushes your left inner thigh, guiding you to spread your legs. Cups your pussy, digits spreading your essence all over you. 

“I’ll be good to you because you just can’t help it, can you? Poor little baby is just a slut for this cock.”

You mewl at his words, but then you discover that he didn’t lubricate your cunt for you, but for himself.

You yelp when you feel his tongue right there on the softness of your inner thigh, licking up a stripe to drink you. You didn’t expect him to do it so quickly and your whines increase in volume when Jungkook buries his head in your pussy, the deft muscle swirling around your pulsating bundle, licking between your folds and teasing around your hole. You push your hips back, wanting him there more than ever, but he spanks you, bites your flesh before he soothes the pain with his kisses. Big kisses as he calls them, the ones with full tongue. The nasty, the dirty. Big kisses for big girls with experience—those he teaches. 

Jungkook stands up and wraps his fingers around your jawline, holding you like that as he draws closer to your ear. 

“Looks like you can’t go out with your little pussy wet like that and those pretty panties soiled like they are, can you?” He turns your head so you look at him and you let him see your star-filled eyes, damp with the cosmos. “What would they think of you?”

“Koo,” you cry out.

He purrs in mock sympathy. “I left you alone for what, half an hour? And your pussy is needy again. That’s not right, is it? You should stop and think about this. Daddy’s not fixing it for you.” 

As if he hadn’t spoken a word, he sinks his fingers inside of you. Middle and ring. Jackhammers them until you scream, then he pulls them out and spanks your pussy once, twice. With all four of his digits, he rubs the entirety of your femininity, sloppily and rapidly, the drops of your essence joining the company of the drying wine on the parquet floor. You’re seeing white, your orgasm inches away from you.

“Jungkook, please, don’t stop—” Your mouth rounds, voice breaks into a moan. “I’m gonna come, please, please—” 

He withdraws his fingers. Entire body, too. Like a starved animal, head tipped low, he stares you down. 

You struggle to catch your breath, swallowing dryly, leaning your head against your forearms.

“You said—you said you’d be good to me,” you croak out, throat dry, eyes lidding, mind absolutely fucked out. 

“I am.” 

The meaning of his words eludes you, but you soon forget about thinking when he licks his fingers clean. Wraps those pretty, puffy pillows around his slender fingers and sucks them. Then, he undoes the few buttons left of his ebony shirt, slowly and precisely. You clench around nothing, walls pressing together tightly. You’d slip a finger inside if you weren’t holding the side of the wardrobe for dear life.

“Get on the bed, now,” he orders. “Leave the dress on. Panties, too. I’ll show everyone how much of a little slut you are.” 

Without a second thought, you do as he says. 

You sit down on the edge of the bed and spread your legs as wide for him as the undergarment enfolding your thighs allows you, the ivory material pulled taut—your dewiness on show. Jungkook walks into the room like he has all the time in the world, like you aren’t gripping the flesh of your sides in order not to touch yourself. His shirt is fully unbuttoned now and the fabric lets you see a slither of his defined abdomen and fine black pubic hair peeking out of his Calvins due to how low his slacks are fixed on his hips. You lick your lips, dig half-moons into your skin until your knuckles turn white.

You need him. You need him so much that tears pool within the cosmos of your eyes.

“If only they were to see you right now,” he mutters. “So desperate for me. It’s too bad only I get to see you like this, isn’t it?” 

He worsens your desire with that mouth of his. It’s extreme. You scratch your nails down your thighs to relieve yourself at least a little bit. 

Fists on each side of you, Jungkook leans towards you. His simple gold chain swings in your face and you bite your lip to keep your needy mewls at bay.

“Am I talking to myself?” 

You shake your head ‘no’. 

“Did you forget how to talk?” He cocks his eyebrow. 

“I need you so bad. I can’t take it anymore,” you whine out, the best your brain could muster.

Jungkook puckers his lips at you in feigned sympathy again and you expect the worst to come out of his mouth, but he surprises you when he says, “what do you want me to do to you?”

You gasp almost soundlessly. Your heart skips in your chest happily. Fire of the starlight shines in your eyes and a brand new flush finds its way to your cheeks, hotter than the one from earlier when you were dancing with the sun. Before you can think you answer through, it slips out of you.

“Lick my pussy, please.” 

Jungkook smirks and the blush of roses smears across his cheeks and nose as well. He wipes at his mouth as if your answer made him drool—cuts the anticipation and kneels down at the bed, pushing your legs back. 

“Who am I to deny you?” 

The butterflies within your tummy go berserk. 

Tongue flat, he licks up your cunt. Over and over, lapping up your wetness, moaning, seizing your girlishness and rolling it over in his mouth. You tip your head back between your shoulder blades and your arms begin to shake, holding all of your weight. Like you were previously grinding against him, you do the same movement now into his face. Recreate the waves as he rides his tongue against your clit. 

He stops when you catch his gaze.

You cry out for him, bucking your hips. He shakes his head, eyes never leaving yours. His puffy lips glint in the dimmed light, the sun rays seconds away from saying their final goodbye.

“Needy little whore.”

Jungkook flicks at your little seashell, wraps those pillows around the muscle out of habit, but decides against it. Denies you the pleasure, knows too well you come too quickly from the suction. Decides to flutter his tongue instead, the pressure light, making you tremble like a butterfly wing. Retracts. Starts the torture again, alternating between light and hard. Fucks with your brain. Fucks with you.

“This feels too good, Daddy, oh my god.” 

You watch him at work, mouth parted open, sounds of gratification coming out freely. He’s never done this to you before. It’s new, it’s different and it feels otherworldly; it feels like he’s transporting you back to pink planet again. The faint pleasure, the build up, the hard intensity at last before he starts again. He pins your hips down to prevent you from getting ahead, lidded eyes zeroing on yours, and the cord in your belly tightens. You near to the edge, gusts of gasps and ragged breaths flowing out of your mouth. 

“I’m coming, Daddy, I’m coming, oh fuck.” 

The harsh light of stars comes down slowly upon your eyesight. You’re almost there. You roll your hips to meet his tongue one last time, despite the deathly grip he has on your hip bones, but he lifts his head. Rips the orgasm away from you.

“No.” He wipes his mouth with his hand.

Your vision blurs and frustration burns you hot.

“What?”

“You’re not coming.” 

You stare at him, eyelashes flittering. At loss for words.

“We have a party to go to, don’t we?” 

You scrunch up your eyebrows. You thought you weren’t going anywhere?

“And if you’re good, I’ll think about letting you come tonight.”

Your mouth falls open. 

“Close it before I fuck it.” 

He cups your chin, closing it for you. Wraps his fingers around your throat and pushes you back on the mattress. Your hair fans all around you and you hold your clothed breasts for emotional support, your brain not really registering that you’re getting fucked and that you’re not allowed to cum. You sob tearlessly at his cruelty, lifting your head to look at him. 

Jungkook unzips his slacks. Doesn’t bother to lower them, only pulls out his heavy length out of the tight confines of his boxers. His precum shines prettily on his mushroom and he spreads it all around him, jacking himself off, grunting, groaning, throwing his head back. All while being completely ignorant to your inner turmoil. 

“Look at what you’ve done to me,” he whispers, letting go of his cock to show you just how hard he is. 

Your head spins. His tip reaches his belly button and the thickness of his shaft obscures most of his pubic hair. You moan, aching to have him inside of you. Feel your slick trickle down onto the bedding. 

“So hot,” you say, lifting your eyes to catch him focused on the reactions painted on your face with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, chest heaving quickly. “You’re so beautiful.” 

Abruptly, Jungkook flops you onto your stomach. Crawls over you. Straddles you. Veiny forearms, partly shielded by the waterfall of your hair, come to stay on either side of your head. 

He reaches for the white bunny plushie resting against the pillows and hands him to you. Brushes your hair away from your face to whisper into your ear, “you better hold onto him.” 

You clutch him to your chest and bury your face in his soft fur. 

“Remember the rule?” he asks and you feel him drag the tip of his cock down the line of your ass—you feel him stop at your tight hole. 

Your breath shakes. “I can’t come.” 

Body reacting on its own, hips lifting, you allow him to glide down to your pussy.

Jungkook hums in appreciation. “That’s right. Look at you, so good for me already.” 

He chuckles darkly and you hate your life.

“You only know how to behave yourself when you want to come, don’t you? Such a slut.”

He punctuates his sentence by sheathing himself inside of you. You grip your plushie tight, groaning into his fur. He does it all in one go, not stopping once to let you adjust around him. He huffs against your hair, mocks your sound, eyelashes fluttering at your tightness, mouth agape. It’s otherworldly how he fits. It’s otherworldly how you can make out his expression, how you see it clearly behind your closed eyelids—how him mocking you and imitating you makes you drip even more, the lewdness of your juices encouraging him to go balls-deep. 

He rams into you. 

You scream into the bunny.

He rams into you in staccatos, the headboard of the bed colliding over and over again into the wall. Swift jerks. Hard. 

You feel so full.

“Slutty fucking pussy,” he whispers, gathers all of your hair into his fist and pulls your head back. Begins to fuck you evenly, picking up the pace. “So tight around Daddy, fuck.” 

You must be floating. Somewhere out there within that pink planet. All your surroundings are bleary, distorted, but so vibrant. Just as your hair is pulled back so are your wings retracted in the same way, held by your captor. You feel his lips at your temple, parted, breath hot and heavy. You can’t even hear yourself amidst your pleasure and his, but somehow—all of a sudden—you hear the voice of your favorite singer echoing in the living room.

Do I Wanna Know by the Arctic Monkeys. 

Little by little, you feel yourself returning back to planet Earth. Drool wets the corners of your mouth and you don’t have the strength to wipe it off, focusing all of your strength on stalling your orgasm, the voice of your beloved Alex pushing against you in a fight.

Jungkook lets go of your hair, but wraps the same arm around your shoulders, plushie and neck, his weight coming on top of yours. Continues to slam into you without any care of the world, heedless of the way you’re fighting for your life.

“If I’m not mistaken, this is your song, baby, isn’t it?” he breathes into your ear, slowing down his pace, hips rocking against you to the rhythm.

You sob at the mercy, the ferocity of your incoming orgasm dwindling away. 

That is until he starts pounding you into the mattress again. 

You scream out. White vision begins to chase you again, the cord tightening in your full lower tummy. 

“Jungkook, please, I can’t—I can’t—” 

He grunts at your helplessness, hand gripping your mouth. Pace so fast your head knocks back into his shoulder. 

“You can take it. It’s your song.” He squeezes your cheeks. Grinds his hips slowly. You roll your eyes back, feeling him nudge your cervix. 

He begins to kiss along your jawline, your earlobe, the contours of the shell. You do the same, peppering kisses upon his forearm as your position allows you. 

“We could be together, if you wanted to,” he huffs the lyrics into your ear, just for you to hear. 

The cord snaps. 

Wetness gushes out of you; a sweet stream of your dewiness forces him to pull out of you—and your wet orgasm triggers his. He paints your open back white with his hot spurts of cum, sealing you, completing you. Jacks himself off with one hand while the other rubs your pussy, spanking it. You’re squirming, screaming, the orgasm long and so intense that you don’t even know where you are. Jungkook fingers you with three digits and coaxes another surge out of you. Slacks destroyed, dress soiled, bodies spent—your screams silent. 

He caresses the roundness of your ass to calm you down. 

“Breathe for me, baby,” 

You try, but you can’t. 

Too exhausted. 

You feel him leave, but in a moment you sense the mattress dipping beside you. The coldness of wet wipes on your skin, getting rid of the evidence of his pleasure. The warmth of his thumb on the tear-stained skin under your eyes as he turns you to your side. 

A glass of cold water is in his hand. You suddenly feel parched. His touch brought your senses back to you. 

“Sit up.”

You finish the glass in gulps. Some of it leaks down your throat. Jungkook smirks. 

“Well done.”

You hug your plushie tighter. “I’m sorry for coming.” 

Jungkook caresses your hair. You’re sitting on your legs while he’s standing by the side of the bed. Running his fingers through your disheveled, ruined curls. 

“I fucked you that hard on purpose,” he murmurs, curling a strand of hair behind your ear, finger coming to a stop at the beginning of the line of your jaw. “It was my intention to make you come.” 

You lean into his touch. Kiss the edge of his palm. Drowsy, droopy eyes still bearing into his. 

“Like I said. You did well.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Arms up.”

He takes off your dress and slinks your arms through the sleeves of his black shirt that he had discarded while fucking you. Your eyelids are shut when he lays you down on the cold side of the bed, tucking you in, and you’re halfway through the footpath to your pink planet when he promises, “I’ll make it up to you about that party.” 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part two

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

[elsweetheart]

crystal champagne glasses — bodyguard!abby au

synopsis: when reader, the millionaires daughter can’t help but misbehave — Abby the no nonsense bodyguard is hired to live in the mansion.

♪ every man gets his wish — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪

cw: fem reader, mentions of money / money problems, overprotective parents, mentions of loss of a parent (not reader), daddy issues lol, sprinkle of mommy issues too, alcohol and drinking, tiny mention of being sick, reader working out mentions, brat tamer abby lol, size kink, reader cries and gets humiliated and angry a lot lol, degradation, masturbation, strap on sex, think that’s it?

an: i had so much fun writing this! this is the quickest i’ve ever written a fic, i think because i’ve been excited to write this one and planning it for ages! now, if you don’t like my writing please click off now. no one is forcing you to read my fics. to all the people who have been excited for this fic, ily and i hope you enjoy it! as always, minors + ageless blogs do not interact with this or any posts / fics of mine. you will be blocked! ♡

You weren’t a princess. You were not a princess. You wished you were, shit — maybe your parents would actually care about you. Unfortunately though, there was no royalty behind your name. Just two millionaire parents who would apparently rather be anywhere else but at home with you.

You had your own hobbies, friends, a life — back at home. But of course, if you had so much as wanted to leave the mansion to partake in such activities, such as socialising (God forbid!) you’d need an escort, a driver, secret security officers stalking you, creeping out all of your friends and more. After a while it just became… not worth it. So you stopped showing up, stopped hanging out with people — and understandably, your invite to meeting up with friends started to get supposedly lost in the post. Things get lonely fast.

Bitterness was hardly the word for it. You understood your circumstances and if you were anything it wasn’t ungrateful. Your father only wanted you to be safe, hence the dozens of hired body guards in and out (But you’ll get back to that in a moment, of course.) Your friends just assumed you didn’t wanna hang out anymore, hence the missed invites. You had only started misbehaving out of bitterne— no, not bitter. Pissed off. Rightfully.

You always felt dread when you saw the answer machine light up red with a new message from the only person who had the number — your father. Where on Earth could he be calling from this time? Perhaps lounging by the pool in Greece or dining at a rooftop garden in Dubai — experiencing the world and bravely taking a moment out of his incredibly busy day to drop you a patronising and vaguely threatening voicemail. Atleast he spoke to you, unlike your mother who’d much rather pretend you didn’t exist because, and you quote, the stress of your misbehaviour ‘gave her wrinkles.’ Your manicured finger hovered over the button before pressing down, huffing out your nose as you stared out at the morning fog over the grassy hills of your land.

‘Good morning darling, dad calling again. You keep missing my calls, which I assume is on purpose so I’m leaving you a message anyways. I’m currently in Amsterdam with your mother and I just caught wind of Malakai the bodyguard quitting ‘suddenly and abruptly’ according to one of the maids. I’ve told you once and I will tell you again, if you don’t stop harassing the guards and forcing them to quit you will be in serious trouble. I mean cut off completely, sent off to work in the city with no more than a shitty little apartment and no money. So, I have decided to give you one last chance. I’ve purchased a bodyguard to live in with you starting Sunday morning so you’re going to have to fend for yourself until then. I searched high and low for this one, apparently they specialise in poorly behaved brats like yourself — so I’m hoping if anything that will whip you into shape. You’ve been through five bodyguards this year and it’s February. I’m serious about my threats. Step a foot out of line and you’re done, your mother and I are deadly serious. I will be calling the new hire at the end of next week to check in on your behaviour. Do not let us down darling, you will regret it. Okay, that’s all. See you when I see you.’

You smile.

Oh, how sometimes things just worked out. A life of your own, with normality and struggle and freedom — no watchful eye breathing down your neck and no lack of purpose weighing down on you. Your father had presented you with the easiest task, piss off the new hire so that you’d be set free. A task you’d grown to perfect, having done so time and time again.

The crackle of wheels on the gravel path leading up to the mansion awakens you on the Sunday morning. You want to grumble, having gotten literally no sleep. You see, you were terribly afraid of the dark — and you couldn’t sleep without your guard having light the fire in the fireplace of your bedroom (The one use you found for the hired help.) You had no idea how to light it and didn’t trust yourself not to burn the house down — so you went without. Hence the awful nights sleep. Where were you? Yes, curious. Rudely awakened and curious.

Your short nightie does nothing to combat the cool morning chill as you get up from the bed, letting your bed covers slide off your body as you traipse over to your window. A black Range Rover, they’re all the same. All the same angry men that drive the same angry car, with the same angry build and the same angry face. You scoff at the memory of your fathers threat on the voice message, stating that this guard was to be anything you weren’t used to before. You knew it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.

Except, you were caught off guard when the door opens. You watch a woman climb out the car, despite the vehicles spacious design she still seemed to unfold like she was inflatable as she climbed out — almost seeming too big for even a car like that. She was built, strong arms and chest, tree trunk thighs and veiny hands. You narrow your eyes at the black sunglasses perched on the bridge of her jagged nose, taking them off as she looks around with a serious expression. She was attractive, you’d admit — but in a way that made you cross. That stupid skin tight black t-shirt and black cargos and thick weighty belt around her waist told you everything you needed to know about her. The militant type, she was going to try and intimidate you with her seriousness. You smirk, seeing this as a challenge. She has no idea what she’s up against.

You rush down the spiral stairs at the sound of her lugging her bags inside. She flicks her braid over her shoulder to glance at you standing there analytically as she does so, biceps bulging as she lifts the heavy black cases into the centre of your foyer stood beneath the chandelier. She looked much too harsh for somewhere delicate like this.

“I take it you aren’t going to introduce yourself.” She speaks after a moment of sorting her bags, closing the front door to signify she was done bringing her things inside. You cling to the tall bannister, toeing the cold pristine marble floor, eyeing her and her things as if each bag had a bomb inside. She stands up to her full height, atleast breaching the 6ft margin and you squint, watching her stretch her arms to relieve herself from the weight of the bags. “Off to a great start already.” She retorts as you ignore her, her long legs stepping over a black duffle bag on the floor toward you.

“Why are your bags so heavy?” You ask quietly, less curious and more judgemental. Who did she think she was moving in here with all that stuff? She takes a long inhale, accenting the muscle in her chest as she places her hands on her hips. Her reply is calm and unbothered.

“I brought my weights with me, and lots of other things I need to stay in my condition. Do you have a name?” Her voice is velvety and more feminine than you expected. Your stomach gets hot and prickly at the sound.

“You know my name. I can bet anything my father told you everything about me infact.” You jut your chin up stubbornly. It’s her turn to analyse now, tilting her head a little to the side as she leans on her hip, eyeing you once over and then again.

“Yeah. Your dad was kind enough to tell me all about you and how you treated your past bodyguards. But when you first meet someone, you introduce yourself. So introduce yourself.” There is a slight bite to your tone and your eyes flutter a bit. You’re used to men being agitated with you, infact you thrive off it— but you’ve never had a woman guard before. Something about the harsh tone hurt you just that little more. Shit, maybe you just had mommy issues.

You mutter your name, eyes laser focused on her clinging to the last shred of dignity you had — but when she gives you a curt nod and an equally quiet ‘There you go’ it perishes in the wind like a dying leaf crumbling away for winter. She turns, looking around at her bags before reaching over for the smallest one. “I’m Abby. As you probably guessed, I’m your new bodyguard.” She walks over to you and holds out the bag. You look at her and then at the bag, and then back at her.

“What am I supposed to do with this, Abby?” You cross your arms with a raised brow.

“You’re gonna carry it to my new room for me. I’m a guest in your home.” She raises her eyebrows, waving the bag infront of you signally for you to take it.

You stare at her in disbelief, before laughing bitterly. “You’re right. You’re a guest in my home. So I’m not carrying shit.” You spin on your heel to stomp up the stairs, but she cuts you off by speaking calmly yet firmly.

“Then you can sleep in the dark.”

You turn back around slowly, wearing a frown that creases your brow. How did she know about that?

“I spoke to some previous guards of yours. Said you were terrified of the dark and needed a fire lit in your room every night. Y’wanna sleep in dark? Or you wanna help me carry my bags?”

You stare her down for a moment, weighing out your options. She’d already dominated the conversation by getting your name out of you so easily, and now she was winning again. However, you were exhausted just from one night of restlessly pacing with your light on — too afraid to turn it off and go to sleep. You needed your sleep. That being said, you scowl and snatch the bag from her hand, the leather of it slapping against your leg as you carry it up the spiral stairs.

“Atta girl.”

You clench your jaw.

The week begins, and as do your antics. Abby wasn’t easily wound up, but that only made you want to go ten times harder. She was a bodyguard, not a babysitter — but she was starting to feel like her duties were beginning to cross wires. She knew your game, knew you were aiming for something — she could see the determination in your eyes everytime you’d sass her back. So, she’d play you back. Not give into what you want.

Her first real duty came on a Wednesday when she was lounging in the living room watching some God awful 2000s police chase show, and in came you — tottering on little heels and a skirt so short and tight she could tell the colour of your thong beneath. Not that she was looking, of course.

She leant her arm on the back of the couch, eyes flitting over you as you rummage for the keys that you were sure had been left by the maid on the coffee table. “Going somewhere?” It comes out nearly as a scoff, smirk etched onto her face and it makes you roll your eyes.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Out with my friends. The ones that still talk to me.” You’re distracted, pulling your small handbag back up onto your shoulder when it slides off, free hand feeling around in a decorative bowl for the key set. Abby stares at you for a moment, which — okay, is a little indulgent. She wasn’t being a creep, she could just appreciate that you looked good. Before you could turn to throw a glare her way she was muttering an ‘alright’ and heaving her heavy, toned body up to stand and stretch.

You turn and look at her questioningly and she stops to return your gaze. “What? You think I’m just living here with you for fun? C’mon, if you wanna go let’s go.” She nods towards the door, but stops after a few steps when she hears you snicker.

“No thanks. I’m a big girl.”

She crosses her arms and the smirk that makes you wanna throw darts at her stupid face returns. “That right? You think daddy just hired me to hang out around the house, then?”

You stare at her, pursing your lips before exhaling through your nose wordlessly — walking towards the door in defeat. You just wanted to go out, it had been so long. You’re sure you could just ignore Abby.

She follows behind you, now swinging her car keys round her finger — so smug. “How were you planning on getting to the club? You live in the middle of nowhere.”

“Uber.”

It’s her turn to snicker, opening the front door for you and standing aside as you walk through. “Yeah. Okay. C’mon.”

Screw her. Because now, for some reason she was in your head.

Maybe you just had a few… weaknesses. You always liked your girls on the masc side, on the buff side — but that was a given. Who isn’t attracted to that, right? However, watching hot girls drive was something else, and Abby was being that something else. You know— hand on the back of your seat when she reverses, bicep bulging when she grips the wheel of her sleek car, the lights of the night time traffic illuminating the way her top lip curled upwards a little and bottom lip pouted. You felt a little relief, knowing it was one hundred percent the wine talking. The wine you’d probably drank a little too much of whilst you were getting ready, playing your music and singing along loudly just hoping it was annoying Abby (It wasn’t, she didn’t even hear.)

Ignoring her would start after the car journey you decided.

And you did, for the most part. Abby gave you your space, sitting a few seats away from your group whilst you had your fun — headache inducing squeals and brain numbing chatter over loud music and strong cocktails not quite interesting the blonde. She was driving, and working — so she couldn’t drink, just sat there all night bored out of her mind. She probably should have been monitoring how many drinks you’d had over the night, because soon you were stumbling off your seat to go and dance— and Abby’s hands were itching to pull your skirt down just a little, the hem climbing up to the swell where your thighs meet your ass. She sits back, just watching. She was here to protect you, not be your personal wardrobe malfunction manager — so that’s what she’d do. Sit back and protect.

God, did you always dance like this when you went out?

She felt her fist twitch on the table at the sight of your hips swirling, but she knew that was just a natural gay reaction. She should probably order you a glass of water, so you could sober up and tone down the sluttyness but she figured she’d let you have your fun for now— you may have been too far gone. Abby wished she was holding a beer or something whilst she stared across at the way you were grinding your ass into your friends crotch, the two of you giggling like idiots all hazy eyed from the liquor.

After a while you amble over to her, everything bouncing and spilling out but you clearly don’t give a fuck. Your guard is caught off guard when you come close, alcohol having decimated any concept of personal space as you lean over to speak to her where she’s sat, bent over with your hands splayed on her black jean clad thighs.

She tries to be subtle in the way she eyes you, her tongue peeping between her lips and eyes widening momentarily at the perfect shot of down your top. “I can’t hear you.” She yells over the music. You come closer and nearly topple onto her completely, Abby’s hands by nature resting on the back of your thighs as you now grip her shoulders. Briefly, she wonders if at a glance anyone thinks the two of you are a couple. She shakes it off ‘cos… you’re still a brat. Hot or not.

“I said, can I go to the bathroom or are you gonna follow me?” You pull back to make sure she’s seeing you attempt to pointedly raise an eyebrow at her, something you would have perfected usually if you were sober.

“Take a friend.” She nods to your most sober looking buddy and you shrug happily, pushing off her and grabbing your toilet partner and rushing off. She was kind of glad you were gonna be out of her sight for a moment, needing to cool off.

She wasn’t sure what happened after that. Abby was getting bored and tired, dropping the ball a little bit — and you must have been sneaking drinks from your friends when she wasn’t looking — because suddenly you were way too drunk, barely able to stand. Enough was enough when she watched you stumble over to the bar, heading to assumably get yourself another drink. Abby followed you, gently taking your arm and turning you around.

“Hey, no more. You’re blacked out.”

Your face screws up into this adorable little pout for a moment before the rage kicks in, brow creasing and fists clenching by your side.

“C’n dooo what I waant. Dompt tell meee what to do.” You thud her in the centre of her chest with your finger, slurring enough to the point where Abby was confident the bartender wouldn’t have served you anyway.

“No. Finish up, you need to go home.” She was stern, and as expected — this garnered the worst possible response, baring your teeth like a dog and digging your heels into the ground like you were about to pounce on her. You exploded into noise.

“Nnno! Fuck you you stupid securererty guard I can’t wait to get rid of youn’d be independent this is such buuullshi—” Your rampage was cut short by Abby sighing, squatting, and throwing you over her shoulder. Her free hand came up without thought, tugging your skirt down to not expose you to the world. You thrashed and yelled for a good ten seconds before giving in completely — by standers and your friends laughing as Abby marched you to the exit. You were asleep by the time she reached the car, and briefly woke up when she’d carried you to bed to demand her to light the fire place. The fear of the dark must have ran incredibly deep, interesting — she noted.

Abby thought that maybe you’d appreciate her cutting your drinks off and halting any further plans to embarrass yourself that night— but she came to learn that if she thought you were bad usually, you with a hangover was ten times worse. If waking up to the sounds of your loud upchuck wasn’t bad enough, you were a whiny, angry bitch relentlessly all day.

“I’m not your servant you know. Stop asking me to do things for you.” Abby walked in with a glass of water and Tylenol upon request, being met with a loud groan instead of a ‘thank you’.

“Do you have to fucking yell everything?” You complain, ironically — louder than her.

She was tired by the end of the day, beginning to wonder if the pay was enough to tolerate your brattiness. Abby had gained a reputation for dealing with difficult clients, perhaps diva-esque or ill-mannered, but often it wasn’t anything a stern talking to couldn’t fix, often intimidated by her height and build enough to shut them up after a few quips. You were effortlessly becoming one of, if not the most difficult and tiresome clients to crack, but she was determined. If Abby was anything, she wasn’t a quitter — which is why when your father called to check in on you, she told him you’d been good as gold, which earned her a glare from you when you’d overheard the whole thing on the way to the bathroom.

You were back to your regular level of shitty behaviour the next day, less whiny and more sarcastic and bitchy which she could tolerate. However, after a month had gone by Abby was finding the irritation harder and harder to control— especially since you had developed an ever so charming habit of putting on your headphones every single time Abby tried to tell you to do something or talk to you in general.

“Like I told you, I’m a bodyguard — not a babysitter. Stop leaving your—” She bounded into the room, stopping when she saw you look her in the eye and pull your headphones over your head, pressing play on your screen to start your music. Abby stares for a few seconds, taking a breath, telling herself to walk away. Be a bodyguard and nothing else. She ignores this, wound up— and moves to stand in front of you, clicking her fingers. Cheekily, you point to your headphones — mouthing a faux-apologetic ‘sorry!’. The blonde scoffs, wondering why she’s entertaining this in the first place and reaches up to yank the headphones off your head, but freezes at your sudden wide eyed yelp.

“Don’t touch me I’ll tell my dad and you’ll get fired!” It’s rambled out, fast and premeditated — like you’d thought of it already and had been waiting to put it to use. Abby glances down at your alight screen, noting the music as paused and wonders if you were ever playing music or was just doing this to bother her. She lowers her hand, because — well, she’s not an asshole — instead turning her palm upwards in gesture to hand them over.

“Headphones. Give them to me.”

“No.”

“Give them to me or I’m not lighting the fire in your room tonight.” She stares you down and you sulk, shoulders dropping and brows furrowing in devastation. Abby would have felt bad if you weren’t such a menace.

You stroppily yank the headphones off your head and hand them over, muttering profanities furiously under your breath as you turn away from her, sprawled on the couch. Your guard nods, disappearing to put them away before leaving you be — heading to the kitchen to make her afternoon smoothie. The sound of her chopping fruit sparked rage in you all over again at how at home she had made herself, and after a minute you were storming in again— bare feet slapping the cold tiles.

“Back for more?” Abby is calm now, content as she focuses on slicing into a banana.

“You can’t threaten me with my fears you know, that’s emotional and psychological abuse. You’re taking advantage of my fears to be in control like — like a coward. Trust me I studied psychology out of a book, I know my stuff.” You stand beside her ranting as she raises her eyebrows with a calm smile, nodding as she listens and finishes up chopping her fruit, beginning to load them into the— your blender.

“Oh? Smart girl then huh?” She teases and you huff, jutting your chin in the air confidently with an ‘mhm’ before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen island counter, deciding to stick around for a while to pester her.

“Very. You could probably learn a thing or two from me.”

Abby twists her body half around in amusement, a mocking expression of being impressed adorning her attractive face. She closes the lid to the blender, keeping one hand on it as she speaks.

“‘That so? Go ahead, tell me what possibly I could learn from you, smart girl.”

Ignoring how ‘smart girl’ made you feel in your underwear, you only a manage a “Well first of all—” before she’s turned the blender on, the loud whirring masking any sound coming from you despite your attempts to yell over it for a few seconds. She nods teasingly, as if she was listening to what you were saying and you huff, giving up. You were usually a master in being annoying, but Abby was giving you a run for your money.

You hop back off the counter, muttering a ‘Big blonde stupid asshole.’ as you storm out the room and Abby lets go of the blend button, snickering to herself and yelling out a non committal ‘I heard that!’ after you.

The following day she had taken you to buy groceries after you’d complained that you’d wanted to do it yourself — Abby, following you around as you loaded up your cart, every so often remembering your duty to annoy her and hitting her with something along the lines of ‘I want my headphones back.’ which would be met with a disinterested ‘Tough luck.’ on her end. You couldn’t believe that she’d been living in your home for one month and you still hadn’t gotten under her skin. Perhaps that’s why the next day you’d let your guard down.

It was the first sunny day of March, the grassy hills in which the mansion sat on still harbouring that frosty bite to the air from winter — but pink blossoms had began to spring on the bushes and trees and the sky was blue, which instantly lifted your mood just that little bit.

You were curled by the large window that morning, still in your pyjamas and holding a mug beneath your chin, gazing out at the bright grass. When Abby had entered the room, she was surprised to hear you gently comment that “The weathers nice today.” — a rare sentence that wasn’t defying or insulting her. Abby looked over to you, noting your peaceful demeanour and deciding to carefully toe the line.

“Do you wanna… go outside today?” She suggested, something the two of them could possibly do together. She almost grimaced, waiting for you to curse her out like usual but instead you paused quietly for a few seconds before responding.

“I can introduce you to the horses.” With that, you hopped off the window seat and disappeared to get dressed. When you returned, your hair was in tidier condition and you wore a dress made for summer with only a thick knit cardigan over the top. She itched to tell you it was still way too cold to dress like that, but figured she didn’t wanna aggravate you before you’ve even made it out the door. Today was the day Abby would get through to you.

You were quieter than usual, assumably worn out and in higher spirits due to the sunshine. You’d received the horses as a gift on your sixteenth birthday — but due to the cold weather and outright depression you hardly rode them anymore, instead making sure they lived a healthy and luxurious life on your land and fed the best foods by their handler (mainly out of guilt.) Abby could tell you’d regret your outfit choice as the two of you walked along the pathway through the lush greenery outside, pulling your cardigan tighter around your body, head tilted as you watched the birds fly over the pond.

“What are your horses names?” She conversed lightly, stuffing her large hands into the pockets of her black bomber jacket.

“Cinnamon and blondie.” You answer quietly, before speaking up a few moments later. “Don’t judge the lack of creativity I was sixteen when I picked the names out.”

The pair of you reach the barn and she huffs a quiet chuckle out her nose, watching you pick up a brush as you approached the brown and blonde horses. “Hey, I think those names are perfectly fitting.”

She wasn’t sure why she wanted you to like her so badly all of a sudden. She partially thought it was because if you did you’d make her life and her job easier — but… no, it was more personal than that. You’d deprived her of seeing your pretty smile so much that she felt almost awestruck at the sight of your peaceful and joyful expression as you gently combed Cinnamons mane. She caught herself smiling as she watched.

The two of you talked. Like actually talked without hurling insults or rolling eyes. You sat on the hay, watching as she fed Blondie a carrot. Abby’s teeth were always so white and perfect, perfecting an already perfect smile. Perhaps you were in a good mood, because the thought of calling her perfect didn’t quite irritate you as much as it usually would.

“Have you even ridden a horse?” You’re still bashful about making regular conversation as you pluck at the hay from the bale you sit on.

“Nah.” She shucks off her jacket, the air in the barn balmier and muggier than the outside. It’s hard to not let your eyes flicker down to her strong arms, so you don’t deny yourself.

“Not even as a little girl?” You question and she chuckles a little.

“I didn’t have horse money.” There’s a pitch of longing behind her tone and you tilt your head, wondering about her upbringing. She senses your inquisition and glances up at you as she continues to stroke the horse. “I didn’t have much money for pretty much my whole life. It was actually why I got into the bodyguard industry. Good pay.” She shrugs one shoulder like it was nothing.

“Did you get to go to public school? Like in the city?” You lean forward with your elbows on your knees, chin balanced on your palms in intrigue. The way you said it sparked some amusement in her, ‘get to go to public school’. Like to you it was some sort of luxury.

“Yep. Got the bus everyday too.” Her eyebrow twitches up with a smirk, turning to walk towards you with her jacket in her hand. Whilst she expects you to pick up on her playful tone and perhaps roll your eyes, you continue to stare up at her in awe— an air of innocent curiosity around you that made her suddenly fight the urge to run a thumb over your cheek. She stood over you, placing her jacket by your side and you preened a little at how big she looked above you like that. Part of you felt mad at yourself for having developed a crush, knowing it was interfering with your plans — but you were touch starved. Really touch starved, so you allowed yourself a little yearning for your strict but not so strict bodyguard.

You clear your throat before speaking quietly. “You’re so lucky.”

At this, she scoffs, dropping down to sit beside you. Your skin felt a little warmer when her thigh pressed up next to yours.

“I wouldn’t say that. Would have traded lives with you in a heartbeat.”

You turn to her with a frown. “My life was boring. I didn’t get to do sneaky, crazy teenager things. I went to a small private school and had my small group of friends there and… we couldn’t do anything without dumb bodyguards riding my coattail. The only time we got privacy was in the girls bathroom, and even then if we took too long they’d come knocking.” You complain, pushing your shoe into the gravel.

“Oh, I see. So you didn’t get to be a bratty teenager so you’re making up for lost years now.” She spoke it with a smile, but assumes she took it too far as along came your infamous eye roll, shuffling away from her on the seat as the irritation snuck back in.

“I am not a brat.”

“And I’m not your bodyguard.” She challenges gently with a smile, nudging her knee against yours. You look at her with a stubborn pout and her smile doesn’t falter. “You’re not really a brat. I can bet you’re a sweet girl that just wants attention so you’re acting out.” Didn’t your father say she was supposed to be tough? Please. You say nothing. Your heart races in your chest but you’re too stubborn to say a word. Maybe you’d let your guard down too much. Roll your eyes again, that’ll do it.

After a moment you look away, not because you were still mad but more so because you were flustered. Sweet girl rung around your head like church bells.

“I know you wanna get rid of me.” She begins and you tense up a little. Way to ruin a nice morning.

“And?”

“I know why. You think you wanna be independent and get away from your parents. You have this… idea of living on your own in the city. Am I right?”

You’re prideful, facing away from her with your chin up. “You’re not wrong.”

She sighs out a little chuckle, shaking her head as she leans forward with her elbows resting on her thighs, head turned towards your profile. “You don’t want that life. Trust me. I’ve lived it and it’s hard.”

“Whats hard is having no freedom, no social life, being followed constantly because no one trusts you to make sensible adult decisions.” You snap at her, turning to look her in the eye.

“So you talk to your dad, try and see eye to eye. Not just… pack up and move out like you’re running away to the circus.” She reasons, like it’s just that simple. Her eyes dart across your face as she sees the rage build, infuriated by the assumption that your father was at all the type to negotiate.

“Theres no just talking to my father, Abby. This is it. This is my life unless I get out of here. I can’t live this way forever.” You raise your voice a little, frustrated at her lack of understanding. “I don’t know what your parents are like, but I’m sure you wouldn’t get it.”

She smiles in that way that people smile when they’re mad or upset, tilting her head down to look at her hands for a moment as she inhaled, shaking her head with a speechless chuckle when she exhaled. “I never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was sixteen. I don’t have the luxury of arguing with my dad like you do. Sorry.” She sarks and your face drops, which sparks a little guilt in that secretly soft heart of hers — because truthfully there was no way you could have known, and she could tell by your face you were immediately mortified. You stumble for words after a moment.

“Look. I can’t forgive my father for practically imprisoning me. We… we have a complicated relationship and I think we always will. He says he cares and then does nothing but ruin my life. But… he’s still my dad. No one should ever have to go through losing their father, especially not at that age. I’m… I’m sorry Abby. I can’t imagine what that’s like.” You speak quietly and she listens, an unreadable expression on her face as she does so. When you finish, her eyebrows flicker up ever so slightly.

“Huh.” She breathes, quietly.

“What?” You furrow your brows, sympathetic expression lingering.

“So you are capable of basic empathy. I had no idea.” She let’s a smile slip and your face drops into one of deadpan.

“Bye.” You go to stand up but she laughs and grips your arm, her strong but somewhat affectionate hand not allowing you to leave her side. You sigh with an irritated pout, facing away from her again. When her chuckles die down, she speaks again, her hand staying wrapped around the flesh of your arm.

“So what’s your plan then. You inevitably get me fired, you move into the city by yourself and then what. Where are you gonna work? You won’t be able to afford living in an apartment by yourself so who are you gonna live with?” She fires at you, realising she’s still gripping your arm and letting her fingers trail down a little before leaving your skin all together. You hate how it leaves goosebumps in her wake.

“I’ll use my family name to get me a job somewhere. As for roommates I’m not too sure, I suppose I’ll have to start looking online.” You smirk, glancing at her out the corner of your eye. “Perhaps I’ll just find a girlfriend first who will let me move in with her.”

The mention of a girlfriend makes heat prickle behind Abby’s ears. She had a sixth sense for these kind of things, most of the time able to tell when someone preferred the company of the same sex — mainly down to her own preferences, and she could tell almost immediately with you. However, it was always pleasurable to get the confirmation that she was infact, once again correct.

“Oh yeah? You think anyone else is gonna put up with that princess attitude but me? You better start working on your game.” She jests, and the mention of her tolerating your princess ways caused you to bite down a little on your bottom lip.

“What, you’re saying you’re not charmed by me?” You joke back for once, turning to face her to bat your eyelashes. She chuckles softly, eyes lingering on you for a moment too long before looking away and pushing herself up to stand by pressing her hands into her knees with a quiet grunt.

“Can’t say the insults and tantrums did it for me. Good luck to you though.” She allows a smirk to flit back onto her pouty lips before she thrusts a hand out, allowing you to take it so she could help you up, once again proving to you both that she was actually more than happy to tolerate that princess attitude she speaks of so poorly.

By the next day, your head is back in the game. All this talk of moving out set you straight, and whilst bonding with Abby in the barn certainly set you multiple steps back — you were back to your old self in no time, dead set on getting her to budge so that you could be free’d from your fathers watchful eye.

You eye your search bar on Google, sprawled on your front on your bed with your laptop open infront of you, having just typed ‘Roommates for sale backspace Roommates in the city friendly and not weird’. As you scrolled through the unhelpful results, your door opened — Abby standing in your doorway.

“Jesus do you ever fucking knock?” You curse, glaring up at where she stands in the doorway wearing her usual tight black tshirt and thick belted cargos and boots.

“Good to see you’re back to your usual self.” She sarks with a dramatic eye roll as she leans on her hip, refocusing (which took an extra second because you’re just wearing a little skirt and top today and lying on your front is making her think things.) “I’ve gotta go get my car serviced so I’m dropping it off at the garage thirty minutes away. You think you can survive an hour without me here?”

You’re not looking at her, continuing to scroll as you wave her off with just a distracted mumble causing her to shake her head and tsk followed by a chuckle as she pushes off her feet, disappearing down the hallway. “I won’t be too long. Stay out of trouble, smart girl.” She calls to you, before you eventually heard the sound of the front door shutting and then her car rumbling around the fountain infront of the entrance and out of the large iron gates. Finally, some peace and quiet.

However, after around thirty-five minutes, you had to admit you’d grown bored. You were home alone, and the room-mate search was coming to just about nothing so you had given up all together for the time being. You flop onto your back on the bed, huffing. Where you’d usually get up with the boredom and go to bother Abby until she argues back — you couldn’t. So, you figured you’d turn to the next best thing, listening to music whilst you do a light work out.

You didn’t like working out when Abby was home, because — as if she were a moth to a flame, she couldn’t help herself from interjecting and gym-rat-splaining everything you’re doing wrong and how to improve. The last time she walked in on you doing pilates, you nearly chucked a weight at her head because she started dishing out unwarranted advice. You knew she did it just to bother you, wearing that shit eating grin on her face when she’d lift a bicep and flex it, stating that it was ‘living proof that you should listen to me.’

You thought also that maybe a workout would help burn off some of the… frustration you woke up with. Perhaps it was the tension ridden barn conversation the two of you shared yesterday, a reminder of your starvation for touch, maybe you just had a load of tempting dreams that you weren’t remembering — but you woke up with your cunt aching and hungry to be filled. You figured this was the real reason behind your bad mood returning with such a vigour, and you couldn’t get yourself off, not wanting to give Abby the satisfaction of walking in (without knocking, no doubt) on you with your legs splayed out and fingers deep inside your wanting hole, probably accidentally moaning her name— or whatever. You couldn’t say the thought of doing so didn’t make things worse though.

When you rolled off the bed and onto your feet, you took a moment to collect yourself at the frustration of remembering that Abby still had your God-damn headphones somewhere, having stashed it away due to you using it as a prop to taunt her. You cursed her out, and then cursed yourself out for getting your beloved headphones confiscated before sighing. If Abby wanted to invade your privacy by not knocking, and taking away your personal items — you could invade her privacy by going into her room and searching for them. Perhaps you could even return them before she was back.

It seemed like a sound plan, so you padded down the hallway until you were met with the door to the guest bedroom where she had been residing. You push the door open, for some reason your stomach twisting in excitement at the small thrill of being sneaky— something you rarely got to experience. The room was clean and tidy, and smelt like her. You push further into the room, looking around and spotting a few of the black shiny duffel bags she’d brought along with her — the rest of her things assumably packed away into the closets. You kneel, unzipping the first.

Your hand sticks inside, rustling about only to be met with metal plated weights and an exercise mat. You huff, zipping it back up and trying the next one. You spot them instantly inside, but tsk when you struggle to pull them out — the headband portion of the listening device tangled with something else. You pull them both out, pulling them apart as you do so and gasp when you realise what you’re holding. A strap on. A harness with a dildo attached.

You drop it, nearly falling onto your back like a spider had just leapt out at you— your eyes widening. Placing your headphones aside slowly, you lift it again — observing it. Why on Earth did she have that with her? Your heart jumped slightly in jealousy, wondering if she was planning on bringing someone over and using it on them. Was she fucking someone, just a few doors down from you? In a moment of sick depravity and curiosity, you slowly bring the shaft beneath your nose— inhaling to smell if there were any… remnants of usage, or at best cleaning products to signify it had been used and cleaned. Your face feels hot in shame as you do so, and it just smells like new plastic. It looked new too. You pull it back, looking at it. It hadn’t been used at all.

“God, Abby.” You whisper as you turn it side to side, harness tickling your leg as you grip the girth of it. It was black and shiny like everything else she owned, roughly 7 inches with veins and thick— just as you expected from the broad bodyguard. There were balls attached too, and you run your fingertips over them gently, lightly pressing down to feel it’s texture. As you do so, translucent white liquid gathers at the tip of the dildo, a small trail of it running down the side of the shaft obscenely. You gasp lightly again as your cunt clenches hard without warning. A breeding strap, now you had only ever seen those in porn videos from your phone screen late at night with a hand down your pyjama shorts.

You’d been fucked with a strap before, of course. You’d had been allowed romantic relationships in the past, and your parents of all things were surprisingly cool with the gay thing. Of course, your father had to background check them first and practically set up play dates with their family (Undoubtably another wealthy family) However, the times you’d experienced with them were all short lived, fumbly and overall incompatible. It was clear that you and your past two partners were there purely to experience some sort of relief from their sexual frustration — which resulted in just rolling around the bed whilst your parents dined together downstairs, them gliding their smaller strap in your tight pussy as you clumsily rut against eachother. The experiences were somewhat fun and naive, but you never got to cum or experience real pleasure and satisfaction.

Oh but Abby, you could tell she had to have experience. She had been out there in the world, seasoned and a few years older than you — and when you look like that, with that kind of body, there was no way she wasn’t having girls in and out her apartment door like some kind of cock carousel.

You felt your wet folds pulsing with need to be touched, and you bit your lip — wondering how much time you had as it seemed to have majorly escaped you. The idea of fucking yourself with your bodyguards strap without her knowing had you wetter than you cared to admit from just your own daydreams in your bed, and you’d decided fuck it, consider it pay back for putting a dent in your plans.

You were squatted on the ground still, but now your skirt and panties were draped messily on the sleek wooden flooring by your side — excitedly holding the strap by the dildo wearing just a tight little crop top and nothing else like you were Winnie the fucking Pooh. It was humiliating in the way that made you reach down, checking and confirming that your slick had gathered across your lower region— pent up and built up from the past few hours of general frustration.

You had no idea how that beast was meant to fit inside of you, but you’d grown desperate — eagerly pulling it downwards and hovering over it, smearing the pearly liquid from the tip around in your slick as the harness clattered against the floor. You let out a sigh, only to realise you were trembling from the adrenaline of doing something you shouldn’t. Biting back an excited grin, you push in slightly — the stretch making you wince, brows furrowing. You let out a harsh breath, whispering ‘Fuck’ to yourself as you do so, just the tip stretching you beyond what you’ve ever taken before. You balance on the flats of your feet, toes curling against the ground and eyes squeezing shut as you try and push in further, the thickness making you quietly cry out, unable to take it properly.

Tears sprung to your eyes, half at the stretch and half in frustration at the inability to fit it inside of you. “C’mon, please.” You whine quietly to no one, walls spasming around the plastic, which now was slick with your arousal dripping down it. You were beyond turned on, to the point where you were starting to feel a little pathetic. You tried to ease up, reaching down to rub your clit to help you along as you take a deep breath, mind trying to ease itself — visions of Abby touching you instead of your own hand, moaning quietly and frustratedly at the thought of her strapping you.

You try and push it deeper, and it seems like your walls are about to let up — but the door flies open and so do your eyes. Your world comes crumbling down in humiliation, your ears ringing and face burning hot; Abby stands before you, eyes wide and jaw slack with pink cheeks.

Your first thought is to pull the dildo out, and the size of it makes you let out a quiet pained whine as you do so. She’s frozen, and the rage takes over you. It’s the most comfortable emotion in a situation like this.

“I told you to knock!” You yell, grabbing your skirt and throwing the dildo to the ground.

“This— this is my room!” Her voice is high and defensive, still processing what she just saw as everything happened so quickly. You pull your skirt up and grab your panties off the floor and to make the embarrassment worse — you burst into tears before you’ve made it out the door, storming past her and slamming the door to your room. The final blow was realising you’d left the headphones behind.

Abby watches you until you’re out of sight before turning her head slowly back to the strap on laying abandoned on the floor, a single drip of what looks like your arousal beside it. Jesus, she thinks, letting out a long sigh and running her hand over her face as she enters the room fully — letting the door shut behind her. She slowly lowers herself into a squat, thick thighs bulging in her cargos as she inspects the scene. Abby lifts the harness, before grabbing the dildo by the suction end and sucking in a hitched breath at how you’d soaked it only a little way down. Your poor pussy, she thinks as her lower region warms guiltily at the imagery now the shock had worn off. “Was a good attempt.” She mutters to herself, tossing the dildo onto her bed and sighing, standing up and stroking beneath her chin in thought. She worries, wonders what you must have thought about her seeing that she’d brought a strap on into your home. You must’ve thought she was some kind of perv, right? How was she supposed to bring you back from this?

As you lay face down on your bed, crying embarrassed tears for an hour straight— you wonder if it would have been less embarrassing if Abby had followed you into your room rather than leaving you to storm off on your own. She probably didn’t want to see you, or speak to you for the matter of fact. You sit up, wiping your cheeks furiously — if that were the case, you had the right to be mad at her. It was her fault, she took your headphones which spiralled into this whole thing. Was it better to let things fizzle out and be awkward? You couldn’t think of anything worse, so you finally rose to your feet again, cleaning up your appearance with your jaw clenched before storming back down the hallway. You were going to finish this, and make her leave for good.

You didn’t bother to knock, because when did she bother? You pushed the door open so hard it bang loudly against the wall, and Abby turned around from her dresser — going through some envelopes, totally unphased.

“I’m taking my headphones!” You practically holler, an accusatory finger pointed right at her. She places the envelope aside as she leans against the dresser crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.

“Okay.”

“And my father will be receiving a call! Yes, I will call him and tell him that you’re rude, you push boundaries, and you don’t ever fucking knock on any door!” You raise your voice even louder, counting off your fingers as she stares at you.

“Again, this is my room and I didn’t know you were in here.” She explains slowly like you were stupid, which only enrages you more.

“This is my house!” You shriek, waving your hands and she pushes off the dresser, stepping towards you.

“Is it?” She frowns. “Do you even pay any rent?”

You falter for just a second, but it’s enough for her to see and nearly smile, which only builds your emotion. “This is my families house. On your very first day here you said that you were a guest in my house, so act like one. My. House.” You step closer to meet her in the centre of the room, eyes boring up into hers as she watched you, unimpressed, tongue in her cheek.

She couldn’t lie, you were hot when you were mad. Infuriating, sure. But hot. Hot in the way where she wanted to shut you up, make you cum until you weren’t fighting back — just babbling aimlessly, frown fully melted from your face. Fuck you until you learnt a lesson. The thought made her stand up a little straighter.

“Yeah?” She tilts her head daringly, and enraged you step up closer, bodies nearly touching just so you could yell in her face.

“My. Hou—” You go to repeat yourself for emphasis but you’re cut off by the feeling of her hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them. When she speaks, it’s calm and menacing. You stare up at her wide eyed.

“You’re not gonna talk to me like that. You’re embarrassed, sweet girl — and I feel for you, but don’t you ever yell in my face like that. You understand me?” She tilts her head further, eyes on you. You’re humiliated, knees knocking into eachother at her calling you sweet girl whilst berating you and you frown, still panting — all hot faced and furious. She uses your cheeks to make you nod and you groan. “Good. If you wanna talk about what happened, let’s talk. But before you come up here and start accusing me of shit, remember that you came in here searching, and you found that,” she turns your face so that you were looking at the strap on laying on the bed. She stays facing you, eyes browsing the side of your face now. Your eyes widen a little at the sight, the memory of using it replaying in your head. “And you decided to use it without asking me.” She steps back a little, eyeing you (not even bothering to hide the hunger anymore). “Okay. Say your piece.” She gestures with her hand and you collect yourself, pulling in a shaky breath.

You admit, the confidence from your tone had vanished. “I was just trying to look for my headphones. I wanted to work out.” You explain and she nods, encouraging you to go on. “You… you brought that into this house, why?” You point at the toy on the bed, the embarrassment starting to slip through again in your pathetic tone of voice.

“Its not your business what I bring with me in my own bag.” Her velvety voice was quick to answer and your brow creased, running out of reasons to shift the blame onto her.

“Well… you can’t bring things like that here it’s — it’s inappropriate.” You internally curse yourself out for stuttering.

“You didn’t seem to have any complaints an hour ago when you were trying to stuff it inside yourself.” She shrugs like she just couldn’t help it from leaving her mouth and in your embarrassment you turn to leave again, walking towards the door. She follows and reaches over your head and shuts it in front of you before you can, grabbing your arm and turning you around so that your back was pressed to it now as she looms over you. “What? Am I wrong?”

“Abby.” You go to complain, but it comes out as a weak whisper.

“Is that why you did it? Maybe you were trying to get caught so you’d have a reason to get all mad and go batshit crazy on me, huh? Still going ahead with that bullshit plan of yours to send me packing?” Abby theorises and you lower your gaze, head tilted towards the ground as you thought. It wasn’t that, you weren’t brave enough. You were genuinely just being disgusting and horny and got yourself caught — which to you was all the more shameful. She knocks your chin up with her knuckle, making you look up at her again. “Or maybe you wanted to get caught so you could be punished. Is that what you wanted? ‘That why you been such a fucking brat?”

“Not a brat.” You huff, though you couldn’t deny it any further than that.

“You know what a brat is? Girls like you,” She poked a finger into your chest. “Who wanna be put in their place so they act out. I’m starting to think that’s just what you need.”

You try and push off the door but she’s blocking you to do so, bodies too close. “Do you really think I’d come in here and yell at you just because I wanna get spanked or whatever?” You bite back, proud of the comeback until she roughly spins you around by the hips so your cheek was pressed to the wooden door, back a little arched. She takes a fist of your skirt and yanks it up, holding it to your lower back making you gasp — fully exposing your bare rear. She chuckles and you wanna die.

“I dunno, didn’t even bother putting on a new pair of panties before coming up in here. Seems to me like you knew what you were doing. Lost the bass in your voice too, smart girl. Where’d all that anger go?” Her hand is gentle when it cups your ass, feeling the meat of it in her hand. You could not believe this was happening. You were mortified. Soaked, but mortified.

You try to fight back with your words, but it’s coming out in little huffs and embarrassed pants at the feeling of her grabbing your ass. “I’m— m’gonna tell — gonna tell on—”

“You’re gonna tell on me?” She snickered. “Are you gonna tell the full story? What you were doing on the floor when I walked in?” She purs in your ear and you can hear her smiling. She’s sick.

You say nothing, because if you’re being honest you’re giving up on your resolve— the feeling of her hands on you just melting your anger away like ice. “No I didn’t think so.”

She gives your ass a light slap, just enough to jiggle it and make you whimper at the suddenness before turning you back around, eyes glancing between yours seriously. “You wanna know what I think?”

You sigh and nod, not trusting your voice at this point.

She gently takes you by the arm and walks you over to the foot of the bed, picking up the strap and holding it. “I think you need to clean my strap for me.”

The way she says it makes you feel hot and bothered, and you go to reach for it to shamefully disappear and wash it in the sink but she holds it out of your reach, raising her eyebrows playfully as she stares you down for a moment. “Not like that.”

She brings the strap down, stepping into the leg holes of the harness before pulling it up and adjusting it to fit her by the hoops at the hip. You watch, trembling — the sight of her standing there with a huge cock something you had only dreamt of, making you squeeze your thighs together. You hated yourself for how weak willed you’d become.

“You can clean it up that smart mouth of yours.” She smiles simply before placing both hands on your shoulders and pushing you down slowly to the ground. She sits too on the edge of the bed, spreading her thighs wide to accommodate to you between them. She wanted you to suck her off? Now that was just degrading. You pursed your lips, trying and failing to ignore the rush of slick seeping from you.

“Abby. Come on.” You whisper and she looks at you for a moment, making you shrink where you were kneeled before leaning forward, gently grasping your chin again, her face millimetres from yours.

“It’s the least you can do.” She threatens before leaning back on her hands, nodding towards her cock. She nearly folds and leans forward to kiss you when she sees the big, sweet, doe eyes you give her — so far removed from your usual glare. If she knew that all she had to do was dom the good girl out of you, her previous month would have been a lot easier.

You gingerly grip the shaft with your hand, bringing your face towards it. God, it smells like you still— to think that only an hour ago you were on the ground trying to shove it inside yourself. Your brows furrow as you kitten lick the top, before suckling on the top with a low moan in your throat gaining confidence. “Good girl.” She praises as you push down a little, sucking harder to the point where you can taste the breeding liquid. You’re not quite sure if it’s meant to be consumed but you don’t care, you don’t care about anything at this point.

You wanna push down further, but you’re struck with a thought and pull off her with a pop— glaring up at her with some of your leftover brattiness.

“What’s that face for?” She hums. You struggle to find your words.

“You… We’re…” You huff, sulkily and she watches the glimmer of longing pass over your face. “You’re making me suck you off and you haven’t even kissed me.” You finally get it out and she smirks, but not totally in a mean way — more so adoringly. Smushing your cheeks again with her hand, she pulls your face in, meeting you in the middle as her cock brushes against your chest as her lips meet yours. It’s a hard, wet, sloppy kiss with your cheeks smushed but it’ll do, and when she pulls off you with a loud smack she roughly rubs her thumb beneath your pouty bottom lip to remove the residual saliva. “Now get back to work.”

She holds back a giggle at the sight of your own pleased smile as you go back down, licking up the sides and cleaning off the plastic — groaning at the residual taste of you clinging to it. This was cruel, wicked even — and you were enjoying it.

“Thats it. Knew I’d be able to find better use for that mouth. Must be tired from running it so much.” Her voice is gentle despite the degradation and it fills your brain with a hazy, muddled fog — not sure how to feel anymore. You pull up for air after taking as much as you can, and as soon as your lips wrap around the dick again, Abby can’t help herself from pressing her hand down on the back of your head gently, muttering a “‘Can do better than that, pretty.” as you gag around her. This seemed to be the first straw in what broke the camels back.

It had dawned on you, half way through sucking her off that after this she was likely just to throw you out on your ass, back to your room to take care of yourself. Getting you on your knees infront of her was her way of winning once and for all, and this was only one last humiliation to shut you up completely. You hadn’t realised you were in your head until Abby was pulling her strap out your mouth, tilting your chin up to her as she leant forward once more. “Hey. Where’d you go just now?”

You try and break away, trying to catch her tip in your mouth again, jaw a little agape and tongue peeping out but she grips your chin more firmly, shaking you a little. “Hey. Look at me.”

“S’nothing Abby. Just lemme—”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head.

“Then what?”

You suck in a deep breath. “Are you gonna chuck me out after this? Are you… are you only doing this to embarrass me?” She stares at you in perplexity as she watched your mouth turn down, emotions catching up with you as you squeeze your eyes shut — two fat tears sliding down your tears.

“Hey, no.” She’s still a little confused, but she wipes your tears away with the back of her hand anyway. She sighs, pulling you up by the arm and sitting you on her thigh. “Okay. Maybe this kind of thing isn’t for you. That’s okay.”

You wipe your nose, a little calmer and clearer headed now. “I was enjoying it. I think I just… I feel like no one cares about me. It just caught up with me that’s all. We can get back to it.” You go to stand up off her but she holds you tighter, making you look at her.

“I care about you. I stupidly, really care about you.” She speaks sincerely, and you stare at her analytically before realising that she actually truly means it. Abby cares about you.

She pulls you in gently this time, lips locking against yours. It’s not mean, or sarky, or trying to tease you — it’s a real meaningful kiss and you just melt. All that anger, all that competitiveness just melts off you like ice cream on a hot and hazy day. You wrap your arms around her neck, letting her lick into your mouth and dominate your tongue with her own, pulling it in and sucking on it making you shift on her thigh and whimper. You think about grinding down on her thick, cargo covered thighs and how good that might feel after a month of staring at them — but before you can, she’s easing you to lay on your back on the bed.

“Can show you how much I care about you. Maybe we can start over, how’s that sound?” She whispers into the space below your ear, pressing a wet kiss there and you let out a shaky huff, nodding. “Gonna need your words though. That’s how this works, sweet girl.”

“Please show me.”

“Like that, good job.”

Her hands look large, but they feel even larger — especially when they’re beside eachother, running up beneath your top— fingertips brushing over your hard nipples as she tests the waters, smiling against your skin when your back arches up into her, a sensitive whine quietly passing your lips. She slowly drags up your top, pushing herself down your body to pepper kisses down the centre of your chest, letting out a quiet groan of her own when she grips your tit with her hand, massaging the plush flesh. “M—outh” You choke out in a pleasured haze and she chuckles, eyebrows jumping up in amusement as she adjusts her position.

“Should have known you’d know exactly what you want.” She teases before flattening her tongue over the bud of your nipple, pulling back to blow cold air on it to harden it making you wince sensitively. The smile barely leaves her when she dips down, wrapping her pouty pink lips around the bud and sucking, soothing her tongue over it and digging her teeth in ever so slightly, letting them scrape over your nipple when she pulls away. “Fuck, so pretty.” She grits her teeth, reaching up and grabbing it in her hand again letting it jiggle beneath her palm.

You buck your hips again, which directs her attention to your lower regions — forcing her to depart from your breast to continue her journey down your body. She sits up, both hands encasing your waist, rubbing thumbs into your lower ribs gently. “Anyone ever eat your pussy?”

Your breath hitches in your throat at the bold question and your eyes flutter open, not quite remembering when you closed them. “No.”

She grins, like that was just the answer she was after and climbs back down— kissing your stomach and then flipping your skirt up so she could kiss your pubic mound. You shiver, a little insecure but filled with desire more than anything as her hands slide up between your legs. “Open these up for me.” She whispers, and her hot breath wafts over your needing cunt when she reveals it, pulling back to look at it.

You feel your chest and face get hot as she stares— dark eyed and hungry straight at your most private area. “So fucking pretty.” She whispers, thumbs sliding either side of your fat lips and pulling them apart, her brows furrowing. “You always get this wet? Jesus.”

You don’t answer, because you don’t quite have the guts to tell her that you don’t remember the last time someone had aroused you this much, to the point where it’s taken over your body and brain entirely.

She leans in, and you expect her tongue to dart out first — but she spits, directly on your clit making you jolt with a whimper, then chasing it up with the flat of her tongue as her thick arms wrap around your thighs, jaw practically unhinging as she starts eating you like her life depends on it.

You moan, loudly and with less shame as time passes now, grinding your hips up into her face — which she matches by pinning them back down to the bed, only pulling away to briefly grab a cushion from the bed and slot it beneath your hips to elevate you slightly — so fast and expertly you barely realise she’s done it before she’s back to mouthing at your crotch.

“Feels so good!” You whine and she chuckles against you, the vibration of which sends shockwaves through to your stomach. “Need you to fuck me.” You mutter, more to yourself but she acknowledges it anyway, the hands that were massaging your hips sliding between your thighs.

“If you want to take my cock I’m gonna need to prep you. You saw yourself, s’never gonna fit with how tight you are right now.”

With this new information, you feel her finger tips sliding through your soaked folds gently as she suckles on your clit relentlessly. You whine, trying your best not to clamp down when she slides in her finger, and then another. You were in heaven, panting up to the ceiling as she fingerfucks you, l your hand sliding down to encase itself in her golden hair — glowing from the sunset streaming in through the window.

She moans as she tastes you, brows furrowed and eyes clamped shut like she could feel every movement of her tongue herself. “Gonna give you one more okay? Need to stretch you— still so fucking tight.” She speaks against you and all you can do is nod, in fact at that point you’d probably let her do anything she wanted to you. It was such a relief to drop the act, to just relax and let her take care of you.

A third finger prods at your entrance and you wince as she slowly slides it in, looking up at you to watch your expression — brows pinching and eye twitching at the feeling, walls wrapping tightly round her thick fingers. “There you go, pretty girl. Took that like a champ.” She kisses your hip bone before getting back to work, slowly and experimentally fucking her three fingers in and out, curling them up to grind against your upper gummy inner wall.

“Feel like I’m gonna cum, Abby it’s — it’s so much.” You shake, toes curled so hard they’d gone white and she hums kindly against you, pulling off your clit again with a loud spitty pop.

“I know baby, I know. Let it out.” She whispers, rushed and syrupy like she was too on the precipice of a moan. She moves her tongue in quick successions around your clit as you start to buck and ride against her fingers, a clammy sound matching this — your wetness creating music against her knuckles as you fuck against them. “Cum, smart girl, cum.”

You do, and you’re so full it’s like there’s nowhere for the cum to go — and therefore you feel like you might explode, suddenly letting out loud cries and whines as you shake and jerk on the bed, only to be held down by Abby’s strong arms. She moans too, because you’re dripping down her wrists and her chin — seeming to have a never ending quantity of cum as she laps it up. You taste exactly how she thought you would.

You can’t even tell she’s stopped because your legs are still violently shaking for a minute, coming down from your orgasm felt like it would never end— but you were grounded by the feeling of Abby’s lips on your cheek, sliding her hands under your back to hold you. “I know, it’s okay. Good job.” She cooes into your hair, silencing your nonsensical babbles. She doesn’t push you to move onto the next thing, just stroking your skin and pressing her lips to your skin until you were calm.

Abby feels tugging down below, and looks down between your bodies to see your hand wrapped around her shaft, tugging towards you as your legs fall open again limply. She winces like she can feel it, and she swears she can when you lazily run your thumb over the tip that had drizzled some of the pearlescent liquid out from all the movement. She watches you play with the spillage between your fingers, before bringing it to your puffy cunt, spreading it through your folds and whimpering at the sensitivity.

“Shit, babe.” She sighs out, the room feeling suddenly much warmer. “You wanna continue?”

“Mhm. Was prepping to take you, remember?” You brush the loose strand from her braid hanging over her cheek out of her face. The gesture is intimate, like two lovers who have been together for a while. You almost feel embarrassed again but she turns her cheek and kisses your palm.

She nestles the pads of her fingers into your folds again, sliding around in your arousal and you sigh out at the sensitivity, the urge to be filled returning from its brief satisfaction. “Well you’re definitely wet enough.” She smirks in disbelief, and you can’t believe that there was a time where you would have rolled your eyes at such comments — now only doe eyed and lip bitten as your legs fall open wider. Her fingers are replaced by her strap, sliding up and down — collecting your wetness along it, a whimper leaving you when the tip nudges against your swollen clit.

“Think you’re ready for me?” She asks and before she’s even finished the sentence you moan out a quick and desperate ‘yes!’ making her laugh, keeling into herself with her chin to her chest for a moment. She looks cute and you want to kiss her again. In due time, you think. “How long has it been since you last got fucked?” She continues sliding her strap up and down. Abby secretly thinks she’s stalling, because she wants this closeness to last.

You shake your head breathlessly, trying to clear the fog in order to answer her simple question. Why was she asking questions at a time like this?

“Like — nine months maybe a year?” You answer and she nods, understandingly.

“It’s no wonder you’re so tight. This is gonna be quite a squeeze, yeah?” She looks you deep in your eyes, like she did every time she wanted you to really listen.

“I know, s’okay.” You breathe, and at this she takes your hand in her larger one.

“S’gonna be big. You can squeeze my hand if you want. Deep breath in.” She instructs and you slowly inhale as she pushes in, your hand squeezing hers as you clench around her thick length.

The “Fuck” you let out in a breathy groan is obscene and borderline pornagraphic, which makes Abby fight the urge to bottom out completely and shove her cock inside you fully all at once, but she’s patient, her breath hitching as she reassures you.

“I know, I know.” is all she can say as she pushes in further.

“W—wait.” You tense up a little and she freezes with no hesitation, letting you adjust to the stretch as she drops kisses onto your jaw until you were ready. This happened a couple of times, and she’d oblige to your wishes each time you halt her until she was fully seated inside you.

You felt like the air had been punched out of you, Abby was so deep. “Hows that?” She whispers.

“So big.” You mewl.

“Taking it so well. See, we got it all in the end.” She praises, quiet and gleeful watching you blissed out beneath her.

“Y’not getting paid enough for this, he’s not paying you enough to deal with me.” You babble into her shoulder in regards to her deal with your father, legs trembling around her hips.

“You kidding me? He’s paying me to fuck his daughters pretty pussy, think I’ll be okay.” She scoffs into your neck, sucking wet kisses into the skin there, hips still not moving as you adjust.

“S’not why he’s paying you.” Your nose turns up and she chuckles before lifting her face to hover right above yours, lips occasionally brushing. She begins to move her hips and you both gasp at the feeling.

“How about… instead of arguing with me… you shut up and take my fucking strap.” She whispers temptingly and you go limp again, apart from your hips which twitch against her movements letting her grind her strap in and out of you slowly.

“Oh my god!” You cry, letting go of her hand to wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into you to connect your lips. She lets you whimper against her and suck on her bottom lip whilst she concentrates on finding that angle. She knows she’s struck gold when your legs jerk around her before your heels dig into her ass.

“Faster please Abby, please faster!” You sound deranged, at the point she wanted you all along — cockdrunk and desperate without a care in the world. She clenches around nothing at the thought of just keeping you this dumb all the time.

She speeds up on command, hips smacking against you now as she pulls away to watch the way your tits bounce beneath her. “Oh baby, you’re fucking taking it.” She pants, impressed at how quickly you’ve allowed her to really go in on you. She reaches between you to rub your clit and you squeal, tears springing to your eyes. “Yeah? Want me to rub it? S’it that good, pretty girl?”

“Yes! Please! I— I can’t Abby it’s too — Abby please I wanna— need to cum!” Your hands are curled into her t-shirt adorably which only makes her go harder, practically punching the sounds out of you like a squeaky toy each time she thrusts. You feel yourself teetering over the edge once more, abused pussy relentlessly sucking her in with obscene wet noises attached. Before you can release, your hand reaches down to cup the balls of the strap. “Want it inside, please Ab— please want it inside me—” You ramble and she catches on, and as you tense up, letting out a pained whine as you cum, she slides her hand on top of yours, pressing down to empty the cum lube inside you. The feeling of the warm liquid spurting against your cervix makes you shake, sobbing uncontrollably suddenly as you ride it out.

“There you go, good fucking girl. You like that don’t you? Fuck, letting me breed you like this the first time we fuck? You dirty fucking girl. Such a pretty fucking girl.” She’s babbling too, unravelled by the beauty that was you cumming the way you did. She knew she was good at fucking, but to make someone cry like that was driving her insane.

You’re floating when she pulls out, the two of you breathless and fucked out. Effortlessly, she pushes her hands under your arms and drags you further up the bed until you’re laying against the pillow and she drops down besides you, pulling you into her chest, t-shirt slightly damp with sweat. You listen to her heart thundering in her chest, and it lulls you into a sleepy and relaxed zone, pulling your thigh up over her hip with her help, her thumb stroking the crease where your ass and thigh connects.

“Did so good. The sounds you make are so pretty.” She whispers like she was trying to lull you to sleep. You shift, breath stammering in your throat and nearly choking you when your used pussy glides over her shaft— the veins and ridges catching against your clit making your hips jerk on her, unable to stop yourself from slowly and feverishly rubbing down on her as you breathe heavily in the quiet room.

“Want more, sweet girl?” She cooes, hand running down the back of your head to cup it lovingly.

“Too sore.” It comes out muffled into her t-shirt, aimlessly rocking your hips.

“That’s alright. Just keep… keep doing this.” She relaxes into the bed, kissing your forehead and letting you please yourself, grinding into the mixture of your juices and the fake cum soaking the both of your lower halves. It was messy and bordering on gross, but made your needy clit throb all the more. You were truly insatiable. Had it really been that long?

She sighed in pleasure at the feeling of you grinding against her, the position making her harness press deliciously into her own clit, pleasing you both. Perhaps she too could get off from this.

The sun had gone in, and the room had grown dark. But this time, you weren’t afraid — infact the growing inkiness of the sky was the last thing on your mind— safe, warm and dumb in Abby’s strong arms.

Maybe you’d let her stick around.

#bodyguard!abby #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson au #abby tlou2 smut

[hunnylagoon]

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 3: Being So Normal

Ellie Williams x Reader

Horror pushes tears from my eyes as I uncover the corpses of your past relationships. Each of them dead and lifeless as the next. Because that is what you do, you ruin what is good and it makes me miss you less and less as everyday goes by.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends until you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find their way back to each other. On this night some questionable choices lead you to a vulnerable state where you run out of options.

Warnings: Angst / reader has religious issues / drinking / smoking / drugs

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three here!

ELLIE

It wasn't as fun as I thought to watch you fall apart.

The morning after Christmas you left before I even woke, your makeshift bed made. You gathered all of the boxes of shit I collected off your dad's lawn and took off, leaving behind nothing more than a letter thanking my dad for his hospitality. 

When I came back to Northridge a week later it was like I was looking at a new person. 

Everything that had happened was swept under the rug, you lied and told the girls that you had a great Christmas. You started picking up overtime shifts, you were out more than you were at home.

I watch you stumble through the doors at five AM, makeup smeared, hair a mess and the fakest smile I have ever borne witness to, plastered across your face. You worked the closing shift almost every night and would go partying afterwards with your shitty co-workers who enabled this type of ruination.

I saw your stories too, shot after shot, In every single picture you nurse a drink in your hand or a cigarette wedged between your fingers. When did you even start smoking?

Abby and Cat didn't know just had bad you were but Dina was catching on. I remember how she would go out with you at the beginning, in her mind it had just been harmless fun until it was a nightly occurrence she started to get concerned.

It's like you've euthanized the person you used to be.

You can't even stand to be in a quiet room so you will it with nonsense conversation, hardly even words and laugh at your own jokes.

You used to glow. Back in middle school, you glowed like a candle that smelled of pumpkins and lattes, your love felt like sinking into a warm bath, comfort and security. In high school you glowed like the moon, no one could pry their wondering eyes away from your nerve-wracking beauty, gentle and empathetic.

Though now you do not glow, you burn. You burn like the end of a cigarette, the bud fluttering to the ground just to be crushed by the heel of muddy Converse. The spark of a lighter to ignite your stale menthol cigarette, slipped from bony fingers like clumsy matchsticks to the wilderness, to set what once was beautiful aflame.

Fire is only beautiful while it burns, I knew that soon you would smother yourself out to ashes.

I've been nourishing my withering body with 50-cent packets of ramen noodles. 

I know that I'm not well, in fact, I think I've fallen off the rails.

When was the last time I got a full night of sleep? I'm not sure.

My days and nights bleed together and I can hardly differentiate the two. I hate everyone but I'm so starved for love I am searching everywhere for it, I look for it in dingy clubs and roadkill off the side of a highway, the bottom of a solo cup and the arms of one-night stands, I have even learned to lick it off silver knives. They have taken the rosery from my hand and replaced it with hard liquor.

I went out last night to forget like I do every single night. I look to the moon and pretend it is its being with thoughts and feelings, I act like I talk to it and it has said that it shines just for me.

Tonight, I will go out again. I smear glitter over my eyelids and slip into a silver sequin dress that doesn't even fall past my fingertips. I force my scabbed and bleeding feet into white stilettos that are sure to damage them even further. When I look in the mirror I feel a new sense of bitterness, like nicotine on the tip of my tongue, my face is thinning and my eyes are sunken in, dark bags hanging below the dull irisis. I cover it in concealer and bronze my face to help me look some sort of alive.

"Where are you going?" Dina asks me as I walk from my room and towards the front door, she has a tote bag packed up, her car keys in hand.

"The Monarch," I answer, it was a club on the main street, it tended to be the busiest also infamous for sketchy activity. My eyebrows furrow as I look at the tote bag in hand "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Jesse's for the night, " She says, tonight her hair is loose and falling over her shoulders "Are you sure you wanna go out tonight?"

I nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable in my choice of clothing "Yeah," Sensing her judgement, I'm already getting defensive "I'm in college, all I do and go to work and school-

"Who's fault is that?" Dina cuts me off and my words fail me, I don't know what to say. She looks at me with disappointment glinting in her dark eyes.

My phone dings and I check the notification "My ride is here."

"Don't stay out too late."

"I won't," We both know that I am lying.

I have been many things over the years, a pirate, a cowboy, a warrior; over the past five months alone I have been a lonely girl and a saint, now I am a drunk who drowns out her worries in vodka and overly sweet cocktails.

"To being young, dumb, and broke!" Kayla raises her shot, and the rest of the group does the same. The small glasses clink together, and some of the vodka spills before we all swallow them back and slam them back onto the bar.

The central focal point was the expansive dance floor, alive with bodies moving in rhythmic unison. Multicoloured strobe lights cut through the haze, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

The bar, a gleaming expanse of polished metal, beckoned with the promise of libations. Bartenders, clad in stylish attire, skillfully craft cocktails. The mirrored backdrop reflected the kaleidoscope of lights and the animated conversations that unfolded in this hub of social convergence.

Overhead, suspended fixtures resembling metallic sculptures add to the overstimulation.

"Welcome back," The bartender, Mitch, smiles at me, I know him by name now that I've been bouncing around from club to club almost every night. "Long Island ice tea?" He asks, to which I respond with a nod. He's memorized my drink too.

Kayla is beside me while the others have dispersed to dance or converse, she sips a dirty martini. Her beautiful copper hair is styled into loose curls, she is clad in all black, a tube top, a mini skirt and tall boots as well as a slightly oversized leather jacket thrown overtop. She looks like the definition of a cool girl.

Everyone liked her. 

"So how are things with the roommates?" She asks me, her green eyes piercing mine, she has a slight smile on her perfect lips.

"It's fine," I lied, again. I knew Dina was getting tired of taking care of me when I was too drunk to make my own way home, all of the girls that Ellie brought over hated me. I haven't been seeing much of Abby but Cat and I were actually good.

I can tell that Kayla doubts my words but she carries on to another topic "Are you ready to get fucked up tonight?"

"Yes, ma'am," I giggle. Around the curved bar, I see a woman, she's in a red top and black jeans, her hair in a mousy brown shag cut. Obviously, she caught my eye. "Do you think she's gay?"

Kayla discreetly turns to look at the woman, she turns back to me grinning "No shit."

The woman catches me staring at her and smiles at me, of course, she has perfectly straight white teeth and a pretty smile. I sheepishly smile back "Hey, Mitch?" I wait for the bartender to give me his attention "Two shots of Everclear?"

That's how the majority of my night plays out; I dance for a minute, swaying to- not really swaying, I was dancing in a way that became a hazard to those around me then return to the bar to down more drinks.

"Hey," I hear a voice beside me, it isn't one I recognize, and when I face it, I feel my heartbeat pick up. It was the woman I had been eyeing, now that she's this close I can see the freckles scattered on her face. "Do you wanna dance?"

I can't help when my face splits into a smile, "For sure," I slip off the barstool and follow her onto the dancefloor, the lights are orange and hazy or maybe the haziness is caused by my drunken state. The woman says something to me but it's drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud music "What?" 

"I'm Karris," She repeats, smiling down at me.

"Cool!" I say. I followed Karris' lead with the dancing, she had a certain confidence in her. 

I swayed with each ungraceful movement. Karris, the opposite of me is attuned to the music, moved with a confident fluidity that balanced out my careless stumbles. She laughs at my dancing "Here, I'll help you out." She shouts, trying to be heard over the Rhianna song blasting in my ears.

She comes up behind me, snaking her hands down my torso until they find a resting spot on my hips. With a firm grip, she slows me down, and now I'm moving with her, as one.

My sequin dress shimmered with every twist and move, like a mirrorball, I too might hang. As the light shifts I could've sworn I saw Ellie in the face of Karris. 

I felt the liquor hit me all at once and my body became loose, melting into Karris, I'm almost limp against her touch. She's in front of me now and my arms are hooked around her neck while her slim hands lay on her midriff. 

Her eyebrows furrow as she says something to me but once again it it lost in all of the noise, I just laugh, pretending like I heard what she was saying and hoping that it wasn't something about her dog dying.

The pop song changes into some song in French, I can't make out the words. Wait, I aced every French test in high school, I step away from Karris, squinting my eyes as I stand still in the middle of the dancefloor trying to process the lyrics.

 Je veux te voir- I need you, no, that doesn't sound right. I want to see you, that's it. 

 je veux t'avoir- I want to hold you.

I want to hold you? Is that it? When did my French get so rough? I can't even think straight.

I swear on every god I was so drunk that I forgot I was in the middle of a dancefloor, it had slipped from my mind that I was dancing with someone, and all I could think about was my French classes from high school.

Age fifteen - Grade 10

The French lesson seemed to be even more boring than usual that day. Monsieur Cargin was babbling on and on about how there could be a room full of women but if there was one male rat you would refer to them using ils instead of elles. It was the same lesson I had learned every single year in French.

It took Monsieur Cargin thirty minutes to announce the project. "Pour ce devoir, vous écrirez une lettre à un camarade de classe sur vous-même, vous pourrez inclure des informations sur votre famille, vos passe-temps, vos sujets préférés et peut-être un bon souvenir. Si vous êtes ami avec votre partenaire, vous pouvez écrire avec lui sur quelque chose que vous attendez avec impatience. La lettre fera au minimum un paragraphe, je viserais plus haut si vous voulez une bonne note." Easy enough, a letter to a classmate about your self. "Avant de demander, vous pouvez choisir vos propres partenaires."

I look right over to Ellie from across the room after he mentions choosing our own partners, she doesn't meet my gaze though, she looks as lost as ever, rifling through some papers in her binder and I'm not even sure she understood a word of what the teacher said.

Monsieur Cargin lets us begin our project, everyone gets up from their seat to search for a partner; Ellie, seeing that everyone is standing up, gets up as well. I wave her down to my desk, she crouches beside it and asks "What the fuck are we supposed to be doing?"

I explain the project to her while she hangs off my desk and nods at everything I'm saying, giving me her full attention "Do you get it now?"

"Yes." 

The next day we finished writing the letters and had to give them to each other before we turned it in, I gave Ellie my letter first.

Ellie,

Je suis heureux que nous soyons amis, non seulement parce que nos parents nous ont forcés à l'être, mais parce que tu es mon âme sœur dans chaque vie. J'aimerais te parler de moi, mais tu me connais déjà mieux que moi-même, alors je vais juste dire certaines choses que je sais sur toi. Vous avez lu chaque couverture de la bande dessinée Savage Starlight, plus d'une fois. Je sais que vous aimez faire du shopping dans la section hommes des magasins parce que vous pensez que c'est plus confortable même si vous finissez par ressembler à Adam Sandler. Vous détestez les mathématiques même si vous êtes vraiment bon dans ce domaine et vous aimez l'anglais même si vous détestez les études romanesques. Vous parlez à toute vitesse parce que vous avez tellement de choses à dire et pas assez de temps pour le dire, vous chantez comme une église avec une chorale et chaque fois que je vous vois entrer dans une pièce, je ne peux m'empêcher de sourire. J'ai hâte d'entrer à l'université, nous pouvons être colocataires et décorer la maison exactement comme nous le voulons, merci de toujours me supporter.

(Translation)

Ellie,

I'm glad that we're friends, not just because our parents forced us to be but because you are my soulmate in every single life. I would like to tell you about me, but you already know me better than I know myself so instead I will just say some things I know about you. You have read every Savage Starlight comic cover to cover, more than once. I know that you like to shop in the men's section at stores because you think it's more comfortable even if you end up looking like Adam Sandler. You hate math even though you are really good at it and you love English even though you hate novel studies. You talk at a mile a minute because you have so much to say and not enough time to say it, you sing like a church with a choir in it and every time I see you walk into a room I can't help but smile. I can't wait for college, we can be roommates and decorate the house exactly how we want it, thank you for always putting up with me.

I bent the rubric a little bit, talking about Ellie rather than myself but we were really getting graded on our French comprehension, not the subject matter of the letter. Ellie read it through, over and over, nodding her head along and pretending that it made perfect sense but I can tell by the way she squints her eyes and furrows her eyebrows that it doesn't make sense. She hand hers to me next, pride clear across her face.

Ton père est toujours en colère et je pense que c'est pour ça que nous sommes mariés. J'apprécie quand tu dors dans ma chambre et que nous nous battons avec des pistolets à eau. Mon film préféré à regarder est Star Wars, mais j'apprécie aussi Hunger Games parce que vous en êtes témoin. J'attends avec impatience une soirée cinéma ce vendredi avec vous. Tu es très cool, merci d'être mon ami.

(Translation)

Your dad is always mad and I think that is why we are married. I enjoy when you sleep at my room and we fight with guns of water. My favourite movie to watch is Star Wars but I also enjoy Hunger games because you witness it. I look forward to night movie this Friday because with you. You are very cool, thank for being my friend.

I can't help but giggle when I read it over, this causes panic in Ellie "Why are you laughing, what's wrong with it?"

"I love you but you are definitely failing."

I quickly helped her rewrite it before we turned it in, and she ended up getting a B with my revisions.

"Are you okay?" I hear Karris, she looks a little on edge, probably because I went nonverbal and froze for a solid minute or two.

"She's fine," Kayla puts her hands on either of my arms which are currently plastered to my side "I'm just gonna snag her for a minute if you don't mind." Kayla didn't wait for a response she was already dragging me away, guiding me through the sea of people and into the bathroom.

I always hated the bathroom here. The walls were black tile with white grout and there was graffiti all over the stalls and ceiling, apparently, it added to the effect, I just thought it was fugly; not to mention how dimly lit it was, there were red LED strips behind the mirrors but that was about the only light source. If you were trying to fix your eyeliner, you 

"What is going on with you?" Kayla leans against the counter with the sinks, I'm right in front of her with my arms crossed.

"Nothing-

"I just saw you glitch in real life," She raises her eyebrows "You literally froze, I thought you were having a stroke."

I wipe some sweat off my brow "My head hurts," I mutter, I've already had too much to drink and we really hadn't been there that long. My thoughts didn't seem to process. Now keep in mind that I was so insanely plastered that night that I don't remember everything verbatim, I had to take others' words for what happened.

"Do you want an aspirin?" Kayla asks to which I nod and she begins digging through her purse, she pulls out a little bottle and I hear the rattling of pills. It's so dark that I can only make out the vague shape of the bottle. She places a little pill into my hand and gives me a half-drunk bottle of Fiji water in my free hand.

I don't need the water though, I dry swallow it.

She tucks the bottle back into her purse and feels something, I see her eyes go wide and that alone begins to stress me out. "What?" I ask, with no answer. She dumps her purse onto the counter behind her and turns on her phone flash to look at each item, she snatches a bottle of Tylenol and takes the cap off just for her hand to fly over her mouth. "Is something wrong?"

"I didn't give you aspirin," She's fighting back laughter but her dainty features are etched with concern.

"So?" I say, "It's just Tylenol, it won't kill me," My speech is slurred from the alcohol in my system.

"Honey, it's not Tylenol," She lowers her hand from her mouth, pressing her lips together tight. "It's MDMA."

"What?"

"Ecstasy," She corrects herself, making it easier for me to understand.

"WHAT?" My eyes go wide and my jaw drops "WHAT?" I repeat, running over to one of the nasty graffiti-covered stalls and kneeling in front of it, sticking my fingers down my throat to try and throw up to get it out of my system before it sets in. "Say something gross to make me throw up!"

"Uhh," Kayla stood behind me "Think of your dad getting off with your grandma!"

"EW!" I shout, turning to look at her with disgust on my face. "Why would you say that?"

"You told me to say something gross!"

"Not that!" I cry, slouching against the stall. I wish I had a time machine, I wouldn't just go back four hours, I would go back four years and make sure I play everything right. Maybe then I wouldn't be drunk and high in the bathroom of a dingy nightclub and I would still have Ellie.

"It's okay, honey, It's clean," Kayla walks closer to me, the heels of her boots clacking on the tile "I promise," She offers me a little rub on the shoulder "I promise I'll take good care of you tonight and make sure you're safe."

She was lying through her teeth, and just an hour later I was face down on the bar, lulling in and out of consciousness. That is the exact moment I started to think it wasn't clean like Kayla had said. My high didn't feel like what I was told rolling was like.

At first, I felt fine and then everything started to feel off. You know when you spin around a bunch super fast and your world spins under your feet? It was like that. 

Before I retired to the bar, I tried to get back on the dancefloor just for my body to betray me and collapse onto the ground, people around me had stopped to watch me stagger back onto my feet and wordlessly stumble away.

After I lift my head off the spruce bartop and don't see Kayla anywhere in sight for the seventh time, I reach for my phone that I had stuffed into my bra and dial up Dina. 

I hear the hum of the tone before it clicks and I hear her static voice on the other end. "Hello?" Her voice crackles.

"Dina, I'm on drugs."

"What?" I hear some shuffling in the background then what sounds like the click of a door "What drugs? are you okay?"

"I don't know," My voice drags out "Kayla took it out of her purse, said it was MMA and I'm not-" I hiccup "I'm not doing well."

"What the hell is MMA? Isn't that mixed martial arts?"

"Dina, I'm not doing martial arts, I'm doing drugs."

She sighs and I can feel her disappointment through the phone "Are you still at Monarch?"

"Yes."

"Hang on," Something shifts in the background.

"I'm kind of scared."

"Please just stay where you are-

"I love you, Dina."

"I lo- CLICK

My phone dies, and the screen turns black. I click some buttons for a moment to ensure that it's dead before I tuck it back into my bra and let myself lull back onto the bar, I rest my head on my arms and look at the displays of liquor surrounding me.

I lose track of the time that passes, in my head I am just about the win the 72nd Hunger Games, it's down to me and another tribute. There's an intense fight, I wind up underneath her and she presses a blade to my throat, I get a good look at her face and see Ellie but her face doesn't stay the same. It morphs through every version of her I had ever known. When we were seven, her grunge phase, when she let me do her makeup. This is when I give up, I know I don't have it in me to kill her so I lay limp and await my fate-

"Hey," A man sits next to me, his presence stood out effortlessly. With a strong, chiselled jawline and well-defined features, his face carried an air of that old-money elegance. His hazel eyes were softened by something (alcohol, probably), drawing others into their captivating gaze. Dark, tousled hair framed his face, adding an intriguing touch of ruggedness. He is clad in a white button-up and dress pants, I can well he's a blue-collar man just from the way he sits.

"What?" I squint my eyes at him.

"You're really pretty, I thought I would introduce myself," He smiles "I'm Emmet."

"Okay," I answer turning my attention to look ahead at the liquor display, watching the way the lights shone through them. Right now I don't care to make conversation, even if he looks like Henry Cavell, I'm fighting to stay awake.

One of his bulky hands reaches for my necklace, four of his fingers are beneath the cross, pressed against it while his thumb rubs it "You're religious."

I look down where he cradles my cross and try to jerk away but my body feels too heavy "Not anymore," I mutter. I put one of my hands over his to move it off me, he takes this as an invitation to hold my hand.

Emmet brings his head next to mine to whisper in my ear "So does that mean you're a good girl or a bad girl-

"It means she's leaving, actually," Ellie pushes him away abruptly, he looks taken aback while she doesn't give a shit. She begins to gingerly help me off the stool "Do you have everything?"

"Why are you here?" I ask "I called Abby."

"You called Dina and she's on the other side of town with her boyfriend so she sent me." Ellie slings one arm around me and I sink into her immediately.

"I hate you so much," I murmur under my breath.

"Yeah, I bet you do," She is gentle with me, she's treating me like I'm made of porcelain and I'll shatter at the slightest bit of harm.

Emmet looks crazily offended, his hands up in defence "Hey, we were having a conversation-

"Borderline harassment doesn't constitute a conversation." Ellie looks like she rolled out of bed, she is in her grey sweatpants and field hockey hoodie, her hair in the low ponytail she always wore to sleep. "Are you okay?" She asks, her tone shifting from harsh to soft.

"Mhm," I ball my fist up and rub my eye, smearing my mascara when I do so, I look down at my hand and see the remnants of my telescopic mascara and silver glitter smudged on it. 

I am killing myself slowly and it is no crucifixion. 

As Ellie helps me into the back seat of her car I feel like mold is growing on my bones just to way me down to the concrete where I will surely rot. "I don't write enough," I mumble "And I'm so lonely I'm searching for god everywhere but I can't find him."

Ellie gives me a little hum of acknowledgment her eyes briefly shooting to me in the rearview mirror before looking back to the road. 

"Don't worry, I'm not in love with you anymore," I say nonchalantly as I'm sprawled out in her back seat, watching the light from neon signs pass us by.

"I didn't know you ever were." She says softly, hands on the steering wheel, she steals glances at me. The towering skyscrapers loomed like sentinels, their reflective glass surfaces capturing the myriad colours of neon signs that adorned the streets.

"I hate you," I add on. The mix of liquor and whatever drug Kayla gave me was doing me justice, I couldn't hold back any thought, they all fell from my lips in a jumbled mess. "I hope you die, I hope we both die." Ellie doesn't have anything to say to that. I think to myself that if I die in this moment, I would not be afraid, I would greet death like an old friend with a bright smile and warm hug. "I don't love anyone the way I love you," My head lulls against the window "And your girls, they all hate me."

"So which is it?" She asks, feeding into my tangent "Do you love me or do you hate me?"

"I-" I think about it for a brief moment "I hope if I killed myself everyone who was ever mean to me felt responsible." I look up slightly, using the car seats to help me steady myself "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you home," She says, biting the inside of her cheek "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for god to call me back."

I ramble on and on, it's a miracle that she didn't stop at the side of the road and dump me onto a curb. The traffic lights painted the road in hues of red and green, and the city lights flickered like stars, helping us find our way home. 

"Ellie," I say, a building up ahead catches my eyes "Ellie, pull over!" She thinks I'm going to throw up so she pulls her gray sedan over, as swiftly as possible. I stumble out of the car, my stiletto heel catches the ground in a weird way, my ankle goes sideways and I fall with it.

"Shit," Ellie rushes from the driver's seat to help me sit up straight. I use her as support to pull myself off the concrete sidewalk completely and walk towards the church up ahead like a zombie "Where are you going?"

"To clean myself from sin," I approach the church and force the heavy doors open; I knew for a fact even in my state that this church had its chapel open twenty-four hours from all of the Google pins my mom sent me when I first moved here. 

The chapel's interior was bathed in a soft, ethereal moonlight that filtered through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colours upon the polished wooden pews below. 

Smooth, cool stone formed the foundation of the chapel. The high, arched ceilings reached towards the heavens, adorned with wooden beams that seemed to cradle the sacred space below. The acoustics, shaped by the architecture, lent an echo to the moonlight whisper as if the very walls absorbed and magnified the prayers of the faithful.

Rows of meticulously arranged pews lined either side of a central aisle, leading towards the altar bathed in a soft glow. Carved with intricate detail, the altar served as the focal point, adorned with candles, floral arrangements, and sacred symbols. The air was scented with the subtle fragrance of incense, a sensory companion to the spiritual journey within.

Throughout the chapel, unlit candles are spread throughout. Above the altar, a crucifix hung solemnly, a symbol of sacrifice and redemption. Rays of moonlight seemed to converge upon it, imbuing the sacred symbol with a profound sense of grace. 

I try to compose myself the way you would a song or a speech and fall to my knees before the altar, clasping my hands together tightly. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. I wake young but feel as though my bones have resided on this earth for centuries."

I am at his altar but I don't feel him around me, where is his steady hand which used to guide me?

My hands grasp together even tighter "I am filthy, I'm disgusting," I choke out "I'm all used up and I need you to help me get better," I break my hands away from their position to wipe my eyes free of any oncoming tears before putting them right back "Fill me with your purity, I will be waterboarded by your sacred hand until holy water leaks from my pores."

Ellie hangs around by the entrance, sketched out by not only the creepy church but also my off-putting behaviour. She flinches at every shadow she sees, believing it to be a homeless person who was residing there for the night. I'm kneeling over in my sequin dress, one of the straps slips down my shoulder and my dress rides up, this is the most sinful I have ever been, synthetic sunshine coursing through my system.

"Make me love myself so I have room to love you," I feel so repulsive and dirty, soap and water won't make me feel clean so I'll try bleach and matches instead "I ask for Your mercy and grace to cleanse me from all unrighteousness. Create in me a clean heart, God, and renew a right spirit within me, return my family to my side."

I search for some sort of sign that he is watching over me.

Nothing.

No sign that he is here.

The priest at my old church in my hometown had said that without doubt there was no room for faith. It wasn't doubt, it was absolution, he is not here and so I unclasped my golden cross necklace and discarded it on the ground before the altar, never again will I be haunted by a man who has failed to ever show me mercy.

Ellie washes the grime off me with the detachable shower head. My hair is clipped up and I am hugging my knees, facing away from her in the bathtub. I feel a profound sense of shame and embarrassment all over again despite everything within me that is helping to take the edge off. 

She holds the shower head but looks away to give me some false sense of dignity, I cried the whole way home from the church about being filthy but with how many times I had fallen over, she didn't want me to hit my head in the shower so we settled on this.

"I'm done," I mutter and right away Ellie turns the shower off and grabs my house robe from one of the hooks on the door, she holds it up and waits for me to stand, still averting her eyes. I stand slowly, gripping onto the rim of the tub for dear life. When I slip into it, Ellie helps me move out of the bathtub and into my bedroom.

She lifts me onto the bed and tucks me in beneath my satin duvet cover. Ellie leaves for a moment but when she returns she has a bowl in case I need to vomit, a class of water, a sleeve of saltines and a bottle of actual aspirin.

"Goodnight," She begins to shut the door but I stop her.

"Ellie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you stay with me?" My voice breaks as I say it "Just for tonight, I don't want to be alone." Wordlessly, she shuts the door and comes around the right side of my bed; Ellie is careful keep her distance from me but unlike Christmas, we face each other. "I don't hate you." I tell her because that is all I could recall saying in the car ride.

"I know."

"Do you hate me?"

"Of course not."

I don’t think I’m a whole person anymore, I think I’m made up from a dozen different perceptions of me. This version of me, born that night was anything but pure.

I am unlovely, so please, hold me gently and do not wreck me any further.

A/N: The drinking age in Canada is nineteen! They go to school in the true north strong and free. Also one more part left to go 👀

Tag list!

@elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell

Sorry if I missed anyone!

#ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x you #the last of us #the last of us ellie #tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #abby anderson #ellie williams x reader fluff #ellie williams angst #ellie williams au #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #joel and ellie #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x reader angst #angst #angst with a happy ending

[sanjimi]

my past haunts me, but i'm forever yours.

sanji x gn!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of daddy issues, alluded abusive home, angsty but not because of sanji, reader is scared of falling in love, sort of suggestive but not too suggestive.

calloused fingers brush against the skin of your shoulder. you sit there silently, and he observes. 

sanji has gotten used to your behavior—sometimes you were distant, separated.

“is everything alright, darling?” he still asks every time, despite always getting the same answer. 

it makes your heart warm, but even now you still feel empty. you don’t want to get attached, you don’t want to trust him. trusting leads to eventual disappointment and heartbreak. you knew this well. 

nonetheless, you somehow find the energy to reply in a hum. 

“m’ fine, sanji.”

he loved the way you said his name, even when you were lying. 

sanji brushes your hair out of your face and tucks a finger under your chin, making you look up at him. 

“you hardly touched your food,” he says softly, a hint of concern in his voice. is it real concern? you do not know. “everyone’s already gone back.” 

you realize you’ve been staring into his eyes a while, and you avert your gaze, pulling away from him.

he was right. the rest of the crew had scarfed down their dinners long ago, leaving you to sit at the table alone while sanji did the dishes. they say something about slow eating and trauma response, but you try not to pay any mind to it. you were fine. you had to be. even if chopper has been giving you worried looks all week and zoro keeps a watchful eye on you when you walk down the stairs. even if usopp and luffy notice you didn’t goof off with them this morning, and nami and robin notice that you toss and turn all night. even if sanji's been asking you the same question every day for the past month.

“i’m just not very hungry. i’m sorry, the food is really good i just… i can’t eat right now.” you look up hesitantly, afraid of backlash. he doesn't yell, he doesn’t get angry. he doesn’t force you to eat. he just nods and picks up the plate, turning to the kitchen and putting it away. 

“i’ll wrap it up for you and we can eat later.”

we. he always says we.

“darling?” he repeats the sweet name he decided to call you. “sweetheart, please talk to me.”

when had anyone ever cared for you like this before you joined the crew?

“i…” you start, and he perks up to listen. “i’m fine, i promise.” you try to smile, and laugh lightly. its hard to laugh. you have a hard time getting the words out, but he drinks in everything with complete and utter patience, despite knowing you are lying to his face. had anyone ever been so patient before?

sanji’s fingers find your hand that rests atop the table. his thumb traces the knuckles on your hand. “is there anything i can do?” he asks gently, ignoring the lie. your heart hurts. 

“please don’t.” you pull away from him again. always running, always pulling away. “don’t. you don’t need to do anything.”

he sighs and turns your chair towards him. you try to get up and leave, but he grabs your hands and kneels on the floor below you. he kisses your palms, then brings them up to cup his face and holds them there. 

“please let me care for you.”

his eyes search your face. you sit there, staring at him. you want to pull your hands away, you want to run away and lock the door so you can hide. away from him. away from his prying gaze. away from how he makes your heart burn and feel hopeful because what else can you do when those warm eyes look at you and ask for permission to give you the world? 

do you really want to run away? you run your thumb across his cheekbone. do you really want to, or is that the coward inside of you telling you to push people away? 

“i- i can’t-” your voice shakes, and his hands tighten over your own. you can’t pull away, even if you tried. you suck in a breath.

“i know how this will end. you’ll leave or- or you’ll stop loving me or… or…” you trail off and finally look him in the eye. finally, you let your vulnerability show. “i don’t want to end up like them.” the sentence is said in a whisper, your voice threatening to crack if you let it grow any louder. 

who could have been the cause of this fear? of course, none other than the people who raised you and gave you your name. your parents, with their artificial love that echoed on the walls of your home and made you suffocate until you finally stepped outside. but then you realized you’re still suffocating, everywhere you go. 

you suffocate when you’re sitting alone in your bed on this pirate ship, thousands of miles away from your childhood home. you suffocate when you are at the market, when you sleep. when you eat, when you cry. even when you're around others, you feel alone. 

but why is it that when you’re with him, you can feel a release of the pressure on your throat? could he really be relieving you? or… what if he’s just going to hold you under until you suffocate to death? 

“y/n.”

his voice calling your name is what brings you back to earth. his hands on your skin, he turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrist this time. 

“i don’t ever, ever want to do that to you.” his tone is sincere, his words clear in your head. “please let me help you.” his request comes again, and you feel your heart ache once more. 

you don’t want to say yes. to agree to this outrageous request. how could he expect that of you? but then again… maybe you actually do. how nice it would be to say yes. if you said yes, would the pain go away? the fear?

your body defies you as you nod, wordlessly agreeing to his request. 

he smiles. warm and sweet like the feeling of sitting by the fireplace and drinking hot tea. 

he trails his hands to your thighs, then your waist. he kneads your skin, thumbs pressing small circles into the pain that had settled there over the years. he pulls you up to your feet, one hand now cupping your cheek and the other wrapped around your waist. he leans forward, then stops. his nose gently touching your own, you realize he’s giving you one more chance to run away. 

do you really want this? love is hard. love is breakable. love fades. it hurts. wouldn’t it be easier to just be alone? 

he presses his forehead to your own and brushes his nose on yours. one more chance. will you crawl back into your shell? 

a flash of bravery, and you close your eyes, then lean forward. suddenly, the world didn’t seem so bad. 

soft lips pressed against your own and you’re enveloped in the scent of smoke and rain and warmth—did warmth even have a scent? it must. it smells like sanji. 

kissing him is easy. suddenly all the fears of falling drift away and you’re welcomed with the feeling of something soft at your feet, in your hands, surrounding your body. his hands travel around you and are now on your back, making you arch into him. slowly, as though not to startle you, he pulls away. you chase after his lips. 

he smiles, looking into your eyes and he holds you close. a small smile forms on your lips and he kisses you again. 

you should’ve known. loving him is easier. much, much easier than pushing him away. pushing everything away. it feels like the hands on your throat pushing down have been burnt up, now replaced by lips sucking his name into your skin. 

a small sound escapes you, and you feel the curve of his smile against your throat. his fingers dance at the edge of your shirt, slipping under and pressing against your bare skin. his hands are warm as they tear you limb from limb, pulling you apart and putting you back together. 

yes. maybe loving him was easier. 

is this a cry for help? maybe. anyway, i wish we all had a sanji

#sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece x reader #opla x reader #one piece x you #sanji x you #x reader #x you #sanji fluff #hurt/comfort #✰ one piece

[wosohermoso]

Lucy Bronze

Jealousy - 18+

Warnings: smut (fingering), fluff, angst

Reader gets jealous when a waitress tries to hit on Lucy. (Do i make a pt.2 where Lucy gets jealous?)

Myself and Lucy hadn’t been dating long, our relationship still a secret from most people besides our close friends and family. We hadn’t actually planned on telling anyone so soon considering it had only been a few months, but with being around Lucy’s friendship circle and teammates, word of us being together kind of just - spread - although we were in no means trying to hide it.

We had been on holiday in Spain with a few of Lucy’s teammates for just over a few days now, all just enjoying the few days we had together after the World Cup, but me and her had decided to go for dinner away from the others just to spend some quality time together.

As we sit at the table waiting to be served, Lucy reaches over from opposite me, intertwining our fingers in a subtle but romantic way.

“You look gorgeous” She smiles, her thumb delicately brushing over my fingers.

“You don’t look too bad yourself” I giggle, her eyes burning into mine as she lets out a small chuckle.

“Y’know y-” Lucy begins to speak before she’s cut off by the waitress.

“Are you ready to order?” She smiles at me, and i peer down at the menu. My Spanish isn’t the best, so I order in English, letting her know what food I wanted. The waitress jots down my order with a small smile before turning to Lucy.

“-and for the pretty lady?” She says, watching Lucy carefully as her hand subconsciously leaves mine to pick up the menu. I giggle, Lucy is a pretty lady, there is no denying that. I don’t mind when others compliment her, especially knowing that shes mine. She deserves to know that she’s beautiful.

“What would you recommend?” Lucy asks as she looks back up at the waitress.

The waitress grins, placing her hand on the table besides my girlfriend as she leans over at the menu. She tucks a stray hair behind her ear before speaking.

“For you? I mean you cant go wrong with pasta. We have this-” she points “this tastes amazing, and its cooked specially by the head chef”

Lucy nods, “I’ll take your word for it”

The waitress takes note of our order before leaving and Lucy’s attention falls back on me.

“We’ve only got a few days left here and I want to make the most out of it, I was thinking tomorrow we could go to the beach- without the others obviously, I wanna spend as much time with y-”

“Wine- for you, hermosa” Lucy is cut off abruptly by the waitress placing one glass of white wine down on the table in front of Lucy. “Did you want a drink?” She then asks me.

My eyes narrow slightly, but still I keep my composure. Neither of us had ordered our drinks yet but she had come over with a glass for only my girlfriend. “Uh- yeah could I get a wine too please?” I ask with a small smile.

“One wine, is that all?” She asks and I nod.

After a short while our food arrives, “Pasta, for you-” she says, placing Lucys dish in front of her, “alllmost as beautiful as you” She says, earning a slightly awkward chuckle from Lucy. “And a pepperoni pizza for you” She states, placing my naff pizza in front of me. “Enjoy” She says, her hand resting briefly on Lucys shoulder before she leaves.

“What is her issue?” I blurt out earning a small look from Lucy.

“The waitress?” She asks, raising her brow slightly.

“Yeah. I don’t know. She’s acting strange.” I say as a shake my head a little.

Lucy shrugs, “no idea but this pasta looks incredible”

I roll my eyes. I was hardly ever the jealous type, but when tall, pretty, blonde waitress with a figure to die for very obviously has a thing for my girlfriend, its hard to not feel slightly annoyed. And when I look up to see her sat by the kitchen blatantly trying to catch Lucys eye, it only angers me even more.

“Shes staring at you” I state.

“Who?” Lucy frowns a little glancing round at the waitress.

“Don’t turn around, what the fuck?” I grab her hand, diverting her attention back to me.

Lucy looks at me with a small smirk.

“She probably just knows who I am” She chuckles. God her ego is so high, but i love it.

We finish our food in a comfortable silence, a few conversations about life together springing up between mouthfuls. Once we’re done, Lucy places my empty plate on top of hers and scoots them to the edge of the table and after a short while, the waitress returns.

“I see you’re helping me out” She grins at Lucy, motioning towards the plates that she had neatly stacked up to be taken. Lucy smiles at her “I try” she shrugs.

“Would you help me out in finding your instagram?” The waitress very confidently asks. Lucy looks up at her, her mouth open ever so slightly.

“Mine?” She asks in disbelief. The waitress nods.

“I- I mean yeah? Lucy replies, taking the waitresses phone. I watch her search for her own instagram before handing it back. I don’t think it meant anything, Lucy was just a people pleaser, but there’s a time and a place and that most definitely was not the right place - or time.

I sit back in my chair, my arms crossed as the waitress thanks Lucy. I had never been one to not stand my ground and so fighting the urge to say something was a fight I most definitely had lost.

“Do you wanna ask her to shag while you’re at it too?” I say under my breath, my eyes burning into the Blonde.

“Y/n?!” Lucy frowns at me in confusion. The waitress hadn’t heard it but Lucy definitely did. My eyes avert to Lucy with a cold glare, why on earth had she just given her her instagram right in front of my face. The waitress then thanks Lucy, giving her another small rub on the shoulder before leaving.

_

We were in the car in a not so comfortable silence. I must admit we were only in silence because I was in the worst mood known to man.

“You gonna speak or…?” Lucy strains out, her right hand rested on the steering wheel while her left placed comfortably on her thigh.

I stay silent.

“Y’know, jealousy looks quite nice on you” She states, earning a cold glare.

“What do you mean?” I frown, looking at her in complete disbelief.

“Jealousy. It looks good on you.” She states again before giving me a quick glance.

“If you think im jealous you can think again Lucy” I roll my eyes, shuffling slightly in my seat.

“Mkay” Lucy simply replies.

-

Once we arrive back at the villa we were renting, I take my shoes off, heading straight to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, Lucy following shortly behind. I feel her presence behind me as I lean over the sink.

“Whats wrong?” She asks softly, placing a small peck on my shoulder. I say nothing.

“Are you still jealous about that gir-”

“Lucy I told you, I’m not jealous.” I state before turning around. Lucy places her hands either side of me, resting comfortably on the counter behind me. She scans my face with a small smirk.

“I’ll take your word for it” She shrugs.

“Like you took her insta” I roll my eyes, earning a small chuckle.

“No. She took mine..”

“Luce?! You need to stop being so cocky about it because honestly it’s not a good look. We were on a date.. and she was all over you like a weeping back boil” I frown, attempting to cross my arm with my water still in my hand.

“So you are jealous” She grins at me, delicately taking my water from my hands and placing it behind me. “Why are you jealous?” She says lowly, her lips feathering against my neck. She cannot serious right now. The stubbornness in me heightened.

“Im not.” I state. Before giving her shoulders a small pat and worming out of the embrace she had me in.

I make my way to our bedroom and sit in defeat on the bed. I was kinda hoping she’d follow and maybe give me a cuddle, make me aware that there was absolutely nothing to worry about, but Lucy was so carefree. She probably didn’t mean anything by the whole interaction with the waitress, I just found it slightly disrespectful, but I knew I was being silly.

It takes Lucy a good half hour before she joins me, giving me a small light tipped smile as she slouches onto the bed besides me above the covers, before leaning over and giving me a quick peck on the lips. She could tell I still wasn’t in the best of moods, but I was slowly starting to get over the uncomfortable date we had had. That was until I saw her scroll through her insta notifications and hover over the new follow she had gotten. It was the waitress. Dont click on it. She clicked on it. She gave the waitresses insta a small skim over before swiping off. I was glad she didn’t follow back, but still I was annoyed. Not at Lucy, just the blonde.

I reach over, taking Lucys phone and locking it before placing it on the bedside table and very abruptly repositioning myself so that I was straddling my girlfriend. Lucy looks up at me in disbelief before opening her mouth to speak, “What are you doi-”

“Shut up.” I cut her off before smashing my lips onto hers.

It doesn’t take her long to widen her mouth, letting my tongue brush against hers, her hands instantly trailing along my thighs before resting on my ass. My tongue roamed her mouth as I took out almost all of my frustration out on her lips while the frustration in other places only grows. Lucy’s breath hitches as my lips trail down her neck, sucking harshly at the sensitive spot just below her ear as my hand creeps up under her shirt to squeeze at her breast. “Jesus christ, y/n” She groans out, her fingertips roaming my thighs and ass as I continue to make out with her neck, sucking and licking every one of her sweet spots. Her hands graze up my back, creeping their way under my shirt where her nails dig into my skin ever so seductively before coming back down to rest on my waist. Our lips meet again, more passionately than before, earning another small groan.

I felt her shuffle underneath me, her knees bending as she raises her hips slightly to try and get just a little bit of friction where she needed it most.

I reposition my legs so that I’m in between hers, before training my kisses down once more. Placing seductive but soft kisses back down her neck to her collarbone as I pull up her top, revealing her braless breasts. I try my hardest not to moan out at the sight of her as I dip my head down to suck delicately on her right nipple, my left hand working its magic on the other. Lucy’s nipples were always sensitive, and I knew that with just a small touch she’d be a complete and utter moaning mess. Her breath begins to shake as I caress her breasts, my tongue flicking against her nipple before my mouth moves on to the other. I feel her hand leave my hip and drag up my back before her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling at the roots sensually. Her hips buck slightly and I knew exactly where she needed me most.

My hands glide down her body as my lips find their way back to hers, my hand very swiftly slipping into her panties. She was wet. So wet. Just how I liked her.

I start to rub slow circles against her clit as her breath shakes and her eyes tighten shut. Her hands finding her way under the waistband of my shorts where they grip onto my ass tightly.

“Get your hands off me” I say, Lucy’s eyes widening in confusion. I smirk down at her. “Hands. Off”

She removes her hands from my shorts, holding them up by her head in defeat as my fingers pick up pace, earning the most leg clenching moan from my girlfriend. “What has gotten into you?!” She breathes out, before moaning against my lips. I pull my head away slightly.

“Jealousy.” I state, before my fingers plunge inside her.

Her back arches in pleasure, and at that moment she had no care for what I had to say, and to be honest, neither did I. I watch her squirm underneath me as my fingers curl inside her, hitting the spot she needed it most. “God, y/n” she moans out.

My fingers leave her as I kneel between her legs, pulling her shorts down her thighs and off her legs in a quick and swift motion. I gaze down at her slightly swollen clit, and oh how I wished my tongue against it right now.

She watches me in frustration as I tease her pussy. My fingers delicately grazing over her hole. “Y/n please..” She groans out as I stare at her.

I was hardly ever dominant with Lucy. But today was different. Today all I wanted to do was claim her as my own, make her know that shes mine and only mine.

My fingers slowly slip back inside her, moving slowly but harshly against her gspot. Soft moans escape her lips as I work my magic.

My other hand caressing her nipples, pinching, squeezing and rolling them in all the right ways as she squirms underneath me before it trails down between the valley of her breasts, down her stomach, and find their way to her clit. And with that I do everything I can to send her completely over the edge. “Y/n” She moans out, louder than before, the tension between my own legs only growing. “Let me touch you” She whimpers, her hands entering my shorts yet again.

“No” I say, as I slow down the pace of my fingers, briefly taking my fingers out of her to remove her hands from me. Lucy lets a small huff of defeat out as my fingers re enter her.

I curl my fingers inside her feeling her tighten around me, her back arching in pleasure. She was close, so close, but I could tell she was holding back. She wanted to touch me so bad, she’s a people pleaser - like I said. But she should have thought about that when she gave the flirty waitress her instagram earlier.

Her eyes tighten as I feel her clench around me and I quicken the pase of my fingers against her clit. Her body almost rolls over as she comes undone, moaning out my name in pleasure as she cums around my fingers, dripping down a little to my knuckles. She pants aggressively, small moans still escaping her lips as she comes down from her high and my fingers leave her body.

“Y/n, let me-” She quivers as her hands try to roam my body yet again.

“No, you’re not done yet” I cut her off, grabbing her wrists to lift her up, “get in the shower” I state, getting up off of the bed and dragging her with me.

I hear her let out a short giggle as she holds on to my hand and follows me into the bathroom, before spinning me round and pushing me up against the sink.

“Told you jealousy looks good on you” She grins down at me. I frown slightly.

“Knees. Now” I state, guiding her down by her shoulders.

She was in for it tonight.

#lucy bronze #woso one shot #woso smut #lionesses #reader x lucy bronze #lucia bronze #leah williamson #smut #woso x reader

[axelsagewrites]

Greetings!

I hope you don't mind me sliding in your ask box! I want to request Ivar x fem!reader, who suffers from a condition named vaginismus.

Vaginismus is a condition where the vagina cramps so hardly, that penetration is very painful. It can get treated by mental therapy and slowly getting comfortable with sex. It's mostly caused by traumatic events.

I seek for some wholesomeness combined with Ivar. You don't have to focus on any smut part if you'll feel uncomfortable, sole comfort would be enough!

Feel free to decline! Remember to drink enough and have a lovely day! ❤️

Ivar the Boneless*Does It Hurt?

Pairing: Ivar x f!reader

Word count: 1830

Warnings: insecurities, mentions of painful sex, mentions of shitty exes, make out, fingering, f!receiving oral, p in v sex, Ivar wanting to get revenge on the crappy ex, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Being with Ivar was the best decisions you’d ever made there was only one small issue. You'd never actually *been* with him. its not that you hadn’t had sex before, but it always just seemed to hurt. You’d tried in the past to just push through the pain, usually at the guy’s request, but you were done being in constant pain for someone else’s benefit. Which is partially why the rumours about Ivars’s bedroom mishap didn’t bother you.

You knew it was something he was insecure about and you’d assured him countless times it didn’t bother you. so, one night when you were making out sitting in his lap and you felt something hard pressing into you. You were a bit shocked to say the least. It must have all been nerves but now you were the one who was nervous. It’s not like you didn’t want to do it with Ivar you were just scared.

Ivar’s hand slowly trailed up your leg, stroking over your thigh, till he was squeezing your hip as you moaned into the kiss. You had been with Ivar for a while now, but you had never been *with* him. your hands crept down his shoulders till you were squeezing his muscular arms. Despite the taunts some people liked to make you could feel something hard grinding against your leg.

He broke the kiss but only to trail some down your neck, going between nipping and kissing the sensitive skin. It felt like bliss. His hands slowly began to tug at your skirts, pulling them up so he could feel the soft flesh of your thighs but when you felt him try push them apart you couldn’t help but clamp up, your body going rigid.

Ivar paused his movements, pulling away to face you after a moment, “Is everything okay my love?” he asked. There was a mix of emotions behind his eyes; insecurity, lust but most presently concern.

“I-I,” you began to stutter making Ivar move his hand from your leg to cup your jaw.

He stroked his thumb gently across your skin, “Have you never…?” he asked, voice trailing off.

You took a deep breath before shaking your head, “I have its just,” you said as you sat up in bed, Ivar moving to sit beside you are holding your hand, “It hurts whenever I have before,”

“Hurts how?”

You sighed as you decided you may as well just tell him. the last guy you had told just rolled his eyes and left to find someone else for that night, but Ivar waited patiently as you explained, “Whenever I’ve tried to have sex it just kind of hurts? I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not that I don’t want you,” you said, squeezing his hand, “it just feels like it won’t go in and when it does it just- “

“Hurts?” he said cutting off your rambles, “it’s okay love. We don’t have to- “

“But I want too, I swear I do- “

“I believe you,” he cut you off, moving to hold your face gently. Ivar placed a soft kiss to your lips instantly calming you down, “Is it just when things are going in?” he asked, and you nodded. His eyes moved to scan your frame as his hand moved to rest on your thigh, “We could always try something else,” he said, eyes moving to meet yours with a glint behind them.

You felt your cheeks begin to heat up, “I know men don’t actually like that stuff- “

“What idiot told you that?”

“This guy I used to- “you paused when you saw Ivars’s jaw tense, “It was a long time ago but some of the things he said just kind of stuck with me I guess,”

“Like what?”

You took a deep breath before spilling out, “That guys don’t like that kind of stuff and it was my problem not his. How it was my job to get him off and not the other way around and if I was broken then there were other ways to do that- “

Ivar took your hands tightly in his, making you pause, “No. it is not a job or a chore or anything else. You are not broken. You are just different,” he said, moving one of his hands to rest over your heart, “We both are. That’s what you used to tell me,” he said, his voice low. “You were there for me when no one else was. I want to be there for you. whether we have sex or not and whatever sex is to us. We take it at our pace, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered back, half on the verge of crying as Ivars other hand moved to cup your cheek, pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

Well, it was supposed to be gentle, but you found your lips moving faster and soon you’d moved to straddle his lap as his hands gently squeezed your hips. You could feel his bulge through his trousers and you grinded against it softly making him groan into your mouth.

“Lay on your back,” he mumbled against your lips. you went to speak but he cut you off with a kiss, “trust me,” something about his eyes staring into yours entranced you and soon you were laying down as his lips travelled down your jaw and neck.

You were still in your dress, but his hands soon pulled it up till it was around your waist as he kissed down your collarbones. You felt your body tensed as Ivars’s hand inched closer to your core. “We’ll go slow, okay? tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispered. You nodded quickly and sucked in your breath when you felt his fingers push against your clit.

He moved them in slow circles as his lips sucked at the sensitive skin of your neck. Little moans escaped your lips, and you heard Ivar chuckle when your hips began to buck. You whined when he pulled his fingers away but watched with fixed eyes as he shuffled down your body till his hot breath fanned over your cunt.

Ivar began to kiss your inner thighs, leading a trail up to your core. When his tongue licked up your cunt you couldn’t help but gasp. It soon turned into a moan however when his mouth wrapped around your clit. Your hand quickly found his hair, tugging on it gently which only seemed to spur his movements on as he groaned against your cunt sending shivers down your spine.

You could feel a strange new sensation growing in your stomach. “Please,” you murmured, “Don’t stop,” you began to beg, and Ivar had no intensions of stopping anytime soon. he moved down till you could feel his tongue poking at your hole, easing in so he could gently fuck you with his tongue while his nose rubbed against your clit.

The sensation had you gripping his hair tightly, your hips bucking inadvertently as you grinded gently on his face. Ivar locked his arms around your thighs, stopping you from wiggling away as he continued his merciless assault on your cunt till, he felt your thighs squeezing around his head.

A stream of profanity and his name fell from your lips as you felt yourself crash over the wall. Ivar didn’t move however till he was sure you’d ridden out your peak. When he did pull back his eyes were dark as he moved to kiss your lips hard as you moaned into the kiss.

His fingers trailed up your slit before gently pushing the tip of his finger in, “Tell me if it hurts,” he whispered as he pushed further in, curling his finger inside of you making you moan. it hurt a little but not enough to want to stop. You might scream if he stopped as he began to slowly fuck you with one finger before slowly adding another.

His thumb moved to rub circles over your clit, and you could feel another peak quickly approaching, “Ivar?” you mumbled against his lips.

“Yes love?” he asked, pulling away with panting breath.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, taking him by surprise as his eyes went wide.

He quickly tried to cover up his reaction, “Are you sure?”

“Please don’t make me beg,” you pouted but it just sparked a joy behind his eyes.

“Maybe I’d like it if you did,” he said, pulling his fingers out which made you whine until you saw him pushing his trousers down, releasing his painfully hard cock.

He moved till his tip was lined with your hole when he paused, “Tell me if- “

“I will, I promise,” you said, grabbing his face and making him look you in the eyes, “I trust you,”

His eyes went soft for a moment before he nodded and slowly began to push in. he stopped when he saw you hissing as you adjusted to his size but kept going at your encouragement. “Fuck,” he gasped as he pushed the last bit in, “You feel so good,”

You waited a moment, adjusting to the size before moving your hips. Ivar quickly got the hint and began to set a gentle pace. That was till your legs moved to wrap around his waist and Ivar began fucking you faster, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he moaned your praises in your ear.

His hand moved between your bodies, finding your clit as he rubbed fast circles into your abused nerves. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin which only made it harder for him not to cum right then and there. But he did his best to hold off. You however felt your second orgasm quickly approaching and soon your cunt began to squeeze around his cock as you hit your peak, mumbling his name over and over as you did.

The sight of it, the feeling, it was too much for Ivar as he gripped onto the bed tightly as he pumped his final few thrusts before spilling inside you. Ivar collapsed on top of you in a panting heap. His head was resting on your chest as you rubbed his back gently. “Did I hurt you?” he mumbled through half closed eyes.

“No Ivar, it was perfect,”

Ivar lifted his head with a soft smile, “No you were perfect,” he moved to lay next to you, pulling his shirt over his head to use to clean you up before you settled into bed to cuddle. It was a perfect silence. Well for a few moments, “Who was he?”

“Who was who?”

“The man you were seeing before,” Ivar said making you turn to look at him.

Your eyes scanned his face, but he could hide his emotions when he wanted to, “Why?” you asked sceptically.

“No reason. Just think we should have a little talk is all,”

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#ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless smut #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar x reader #ivar #ivar smut #ivar imagine #ivar ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson smut #ivar ragnarsson imagine #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings tv #vikings tv imagine #vikings tv smut #vikings tv x reader #vikings imagine #vikings x reader #vikings #vikings smut

[cinnbar-bun]

Honey (Are You Coming?) Pt. 1 (Ace x Reader)

Summary: Ace travels to a new land and hears about a mysterious person locked away in a tower. So much for staying out of trouble tonight.

Note: GN reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

Rating: SFW

You can read this on my AO3 here!

He landed on a rundown port in a small island. One that didn’t have much to offer in terms of adventure or treasure, which was fine with him. He needed rest and to restock on some supplies before sailing again. The Striker was compact enough to be neatly docked in that tiny port, with Ace making sure to roll up the sail just in case. He could never be too careful when it came to avoiding extra trouble in a new place. 

He stepped off the Striker and into the streets of the quiet town. There were a few people out and about, but they all seemed engrossed in their own things. Ace noticed a man with his face worriedly pressed into a notebook, flipping the pages like a madman. A woman walked by with her two children, a boy and a girl, who were whining about having to eat turnips for dinner. An elderly couple was busy complaining about the flowers outside their windowsill. 

Ace chuckled and smiled. This was just the perfect place he needed to rest and not worry about any Marines or other issues. He gazed out towards the rest of the town, wondering what sights and views would be offered here. 

A marketplace… good. A tavern, awesome! And over there was an inn, and he hummed at the thought of finally resting on a nice bed. But what caught his eye most was the fact there was a large tower connected to a castle that practically oversaw the whole town. Compared to the drab architecture of the this place, that castle was ornate and beautiful. It definitely belonged to someone rich and well-known. Maybe the mayor? He hadn’t even heard of this place before, but it was obvious by the stark difference between decor that whoever was in that castle was important. 

He strolled casually into the tavern, swinging open the doors and seating himself by the bartender. 

“Rum, please,” Ace asked, and the bartender nodded before handing a fresh mug to Ace. Ace took a sip of it and nodded at the taste before he guzzled it in one gulp. “You got some good drinks here!” 

The bartender made a grunt to signify his appreciation. The bartender was busy drying off a mug and Ace glanced around the tavern. 

“Don’t get much people here?” He asked, trying to break the ice. The bartender huffed. 

“Sometimes. But the men come here on the weekends at night. Used to be bustlin’ over here,” he motioned to the empty tables. 

“What happened?” 

“Ah, well, long story, boy,” the bartender sighed. Ace held out his empty cup to the bartender, signaling for a refill. 

“I got time,” he replied as he gave a toothy grin. The bartender quickly refilled his drink and then handed it back to Ace. 

“You ain’t from here, right?” 

“Nope. Just stopping by before I go to my next trip,” Ace answered, trying to stay vague. 

“Figured. No one ever stays here anymore. We used to be a good trading hub, but that all stopped a long time ago.” 

“Never would’ve guessed,” Ace commented. “It’s kinda quiet out there.” 

“Of course it is. Everyone just sticks to themselves.” “Is there a reason why?” 

“Our mayor decided that after some damn pirates nearly wiped us out to close the ports and break them down. Stay low and quiet,” the bartender had a wistful look in his eyes as he sighed again. “Hardly getting any visitors, and the people have been just trying to live their days out in peace.” 

“Pirates, huh?” Ace repeated. Of course, as a pirate, he didn’t exactly have any high ground to look down on another pirate, but there was a certain level of honor that should have remained, he felt. You do what you want, but you don’t try to wipe out an island for fun! He felt grateful he hadn’t revealed his sail. 

“Yep. Forgot the names of that crew. But they came in and demanded we hand over some fruit or something we supposedly had. No one knew what they were talking about, but they were deadset on it. Tried to kill us and burn the place down.” 

Ace raised a brow. 

“A fruit? You mean a Devil Fruit?” The bartender snapped his fingers. 

“Yep, that’s it. But that’s all just the stuff of legends. Nobody’s got that kind of thing here.” 

“And how would they know it was here anyways?” Ace asked, curious about the story. 

“Don’t know about that. I was a younger man at the time, but I heard some of the elders say that the mayor had one or his child did.” 

“He has a child?” The bartender nodded somberly. 

“Poor thing. After that day, the mayor hid them away in that tower,” he made a gesture to outside. “No one has seen them in years. The mayor doesn’t even allow them to celebrate with us during holidays. We don’t even know if they’re alive still.” 

Ace’s eyes widened. “That’s not right, keeping your child locked up like that. That’s dumb!” 

“Not our place to say. But the fact no one has heard or seen them probably isn’t a good sign.” 

Ace slammed his drink down. 

“Has anyone bothered to do anything about it?” He questioned a bit too loudly. 

“And what are we supposed to do?” The bartender asked. “Can’t do anything. He guards that tower with extra security and has stated that the castle grounds are off-limits.” 

Ace feels the gears in his brain turning, and he calms himself. They seem to hate pirates here, so he can’t get too emotional or be too obvious. 

He sighs to himself. It seems that even if there is no trouble, he has to go and make some for himself. 

“Well, thanks for answering my questions,” Ace says to ruin the silence. 

“Don’t get any ideas, boy,” the bartender replies, seeming to understand what Ace is thinking of. Ace gives an innocent smile and throws a few coins on the table. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

----

Night had quickly fallen on the silent town, and Ace’s eyes glanced at the tower from the window at the inn he had rented for the night. He debated with himself as he slumped on the bed. 

A Devil Fruit and a trapped noble’s kid… 

Those alone were too enticing. And hearing what the bartender had said about the mayor’s child never leaving or being seen made his blood boil. What was the point of living if you didn’t do anything with it? If you were not able to live, to explore, to go experience freedom? 

Lord knows how he’d react if his father ever tried to chain him to his room. He knew he shouldn’t really bother with this- this was something he didn’t need to be a part of. He just needed to lay low for one night. To relax and rest up before he went out sailing. He shouldn’t involve himself in something he knew nothing about. 

But the more he kept trying to avoid it, the more the tower called to him, begging him to run towards it. Maybe that poor person was trapped there. Maybe they’d want to be helped and saved from that lonely cage. 

He knew better, but he sprung up to a sitting position and put on his trusty orange hat. 

Sorry, Pops, I’m gonna need to cause another issue tonight. 

The bartender had said there were guards there. Not to mention the fact that this was the mayor’s kid would be an even tougher target to get to. But hey, Ace had to admit, he loved a challenge once in a while. This would be something that could fire him up. 

He snuck out of the inn window, careful to avoid making any noise in the area outside. It was almost like the whole town was abandoned with how quiet it was. He put his hands in his pockets and walked towards the well-kept path towards the castle. 

He wasn’t going to storm in through the front and cause a panic, so he went to the back of the building and noticed a guard on duty. He picked up a rock and chucked it at a tree near the guard. The guard jumped and held his weapon tight. 

“Who’s there?!” He yelled, before heading towards the tree. Ace chuckled as the guard was distracted by the noise and snuck past through the back door. 

Ace was impressed with the interior decorations, noticing the gold decor and portraits of historical figures on the walls. His appreciation for inside was cut off when he heard two pairs of feet walking towards him. He quickly hid behind a large tapestry and waited until the two guards passed before running down the hall. 

As he made his way towards the left, the hall became narrower, and a large door was at the end. Ace perked up as he noticed the door, and slunk against the wall in order to avoid the guard at the door. This time, however, Ace lunged at the guard and covered his mouth to silence him, before he knocked him out with a quick punch. 

Ace rummaged through the guard’s keys to unlock the door and kicked it open. He then tried standing the guard up as best as he could to avoid getting noticed. 

Eh, he’ll be up in a bit, right? 

Ace shrugged then closed the door behind him as he gazed at the long flight of stairs. Finally, it was time to see what was at the top of the tower. He bolted up the stairs as fast as he could, uncaring about the noise he made. 

Before he could knock on the door at the end of the stairs, the door swung open, revealing- 

Ace’s eyes widened. 

The first thing he noticed about this person was how beautiful they were. Neat (h/c) hair and shining (e/c) eyes. Possibly around his age. 

The second thing he noticed was how angry they looked. 

“Who dares to- huh?!” The anger fades into shock and they take a step back. “Who the hell are you?!” 

Ace smiles dumbly, happy to see that not only is the mayor’s child pretty but… they’re alive. 

“You’re real…” he replies, the answer seeming to offend them more. A swift slap on the face is their answer to him, but Ace doesn’t even care. 

“Who are you?! How did you get up here?!” They scream. 

“The stairs,” he tips his hat up to them in an attempt to be “polite”. “I’m Ace.” 

“You’re not from here, I know that much!” 

“You’re right. I just stopped by for a night and had to see if you really existed,” Ace responded. 

“Well, you got what you wanted, now leave!” They said as they brought out a short butter knife and pointed it at Ace. Ace stuck his hands up to show he was unarmed and not trying to hurt them. 

“Hey, easy now. I’m not here to do anything.” 

“I find that very hard to believe,” they replied, still keeping the knife pointed at him. “What is it you want?” 

“Already told you, I wanted to see if you actually existed.” 

“Why? So you can kidnap me? Sell me? Try to use me?” Their hands are shaky, Ace notices. “I-I am not afraid to fight!” 

“I’m not here for a fight. What’s your name?” 

“And why would I give you my name?” 

“Because… I just wanted to meet you. That’s all.” 

“‘Ace’, was it? You have some nerve breaking into my room and trying to talk to me like this!” 

Ace doesn’t bother to respond and instead walks into their room and takes a seat on the small stool against the wall. 

“Nice room,” he comments, before he knocks out against the wall. You drop the knife and run to his side, panicking. 

“H-huh?! Did he die? Ace? Ace!” You scream, feeling his face and chest for any sign of life. Ace startles himself awake mid-snore and looks around the room. 

“W-what? Oh. Hey. You didn’t tell me your name,” he smiles at you, and you glare and huff at him. 

“You are… you are like a…” you pace around the room. “What the hell are you?” 

Ace shrugs. “Not anything, really. Just a pirate.” 

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. 

“No, no, no. I’ve heard about you pirates. Absolutely not. Get out. Now.”

“What’ve you heard?” 

“That you all are barbarians and have no remorse for anything! You just do as you please and don’t care about the people you hurt!” You yell. “My father warned me about you guys!” 

“Yeah… I can imagine. That’s kinda true,” Ace sighs. “Listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” 

“This is more than just a wrong foot! You broke into my tower!” 

“I didn’t break in! Your guards just… happened to get distracted because of me!” Ace weakly defends. His eyes dart around the room and he notices paintings of the sea. “Hey… that your art?” 

You glance at the painting then look back at Ace. 

“What of it?” 

“They’re great. You have some amazing skills.” 

You freeze and weakly put your hands to your sides. 

“Those were older paintings. From years ago.”

Ace walks to the wall and places his hand against the art. 

“This is so lifelike. It’s like I can feel the water from this,” he says, enamored with the piece. 

“I know you didn’t just come here to admire my paintings,” you cut in. 

“No, I didn’t. I heard that the mayor had a kid who was never seen for years. Thought I’d confirm if that was true or not,” Ace explains. 

“And why do you care so much?” You ask, your suspicions raised about Ace’s true intentions. 

“Well, it kinda sucks being cramped in here, right? I wanted to see how you were doing.” 

“Well I’m doing fine, thank you very much!” You respond, a bit too quickly and loudly for you and Ace to take seriously. 

He looks out at the window from your tower and notices how the paintings match with the view from it. 

“It’s got a nice view, I’ll give it that. But nothing beats the real thing,” Ace comments. 

You stand still and meekly step towards him. 

“Can you tell me something?” You ask. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” Ace perks up and gives his full attention to you, an innocent look on his face. It makes your heart race, for some reason. 

“What’s out there?” You point to the starry horizon. “I’ve only read about the outside world. Never seen it.” 

“Out there?” Ace begins, unsure of where to start. “There's lots of things out there. Different islands, different food, different people. But it’s always different, and it’s yours to see.” 

“What kind of islands? I heard there was an island with snakes and only women on it. And one where there is desert as far as the eyes can see,” you absentmindedly say. 

“Yep. They exist. I’ve been to lots of them.” 

“Let me guess, to ransack?” 

Ace chuckles and shakes his head. 

“No. I’ve been trying to find information, actually,” Ace’s lips form a small and sad smile. 

“Information? On what?” 

“There was an old crewmate of mine. He… murdered another crewmate. And for pirates, that’s like the biggest crime any of us can commit. You don’t kill your family.”

You noticed how Ace clenches his fists. 

“I didn’t think pirates had a moral code.” 

“Some do. Some don’t. All I know is that I follow my instincts and my family. That’s what I believe in, at least,” Ace shrugs. 

“And your instincts told you to come here?” 

Ace nods. 

“Yeah. I’m a pirate, and us pirates treasure our freedom. So hearing you’ve been locked up here sounded like my worst nightmare. I wondered if that was true, and if you wanted an out.” 

“An out…?” You repeat. Normally, you would’ve been hesitant to listen to anyone else. Ace was the first person you had met and talked to in a while, and it felt… different. You should’ve been wary and suspicious. You should know that talking to him-hell, him even being here- was bad news. 

But Ace spoke to you so honestly and earnestly, you couldn’t help but believe him. You wanted to believe him. He was your only view of the outside world. He’d seen things not even your father saw. You wanted to take a risk and throw caution to the wind. You wanted to know more of the world you’ve so desperately dreamed about and nearly given up on. 

Ace was your last hope for that dying dream. And he nods to you. 

“Yeah. If you ever wanted to leave. I mean, do you want to leave?” 

You stay quiet at his blunt question, then nod. 

“I-I’ve thought about it a few times.” 

“Heh. A lot of times?” Ace corrects. You chuckle. 

“Maybe.” 

“Then do you want to join me?” He asks, outstretching his hand to you. You flick your eyes between his hand and his face. His freckled cheeks show no hint of malice or hostility, but the innocence of a young man. Your hand slowly starts to move towards him. The tips of your fingers manage to caress his calloused, and you have a mind to run away with him. 

But the sane part of you makes you retract your hand, and you turn away from Ace. 

“I'm sorry. I can’t. I… I don’t even know you,” you say, cursing yourself for being so pulled into him. “For all I know, you’re lying about everything to get to me!” 

Ace doesn’t look offended at your response, just nodding along with that silly smile on his face. 

“No worries. I understand.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah. I mean, I guess that was a dumb question to ask you,” he chuckles at himself, rubbing the back of his head. “Tell you what, I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to trust me and see I’m not lying.” 

“And how do you propose we do that?” You raise a brow, unconvinced he can do such a thing. 

“I’ll bring back souvenirs for you of whatever you want. I’ll prove to you it’s real. And if you don’t wanna go out there, I’ll respect that.” 

Your heart races and your eyes widen. 

“You’d do that… for me?” You ask. 

“Mhm.” 

“But… but why? You don’t even know me!” 

Ace stands up and walks closer to you. 

“I know enough about you to know that you probably want to be free and explore. No one deserves to be locked away for existing.” He takes off his orange hat and places it on your head. “I want you to watch my hat for me. I’ll go get you something and bring it back for you in a few days. I’ll get my hat back then. Got that?” 

Your eyes sparkle with what seems to be hope. Hope that for the first time in a long time, something exciting will happen to you. You nod, and adjust his hat on your head. 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

Ace laughs. 

“Good! And hey… you look pretty when you’re happy,” Ace points out. 

“What do you-“ you realize as you speak that you have a smile that rivals his. He laughs harder. 

“Your smile is so beautiful! I’ll make sure when I get back to make you smile more! Now, come on, tell me what you want.” 

You hum to yourself in thought. “Sand. From that desert land.” 

“It’s called Alabasta. And sand, that’s it?” 

“Yes. Sand. I’ve never felt it.” 

“You got it…” he trails off. “What’s your name?” 

“(Y/n).” 

“(Y/n)…” Ace repeats. “(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n). It suits you. Well, wait for me, (Y/n)! I’ll be back! And watch my hat! I love that thing!” He says as he begins to climb the windowsill. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Leaving, duh!” He replies, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Y-you’ll die if you jump!” 

“Nah. Trust me, I have my ways,” he winks at you and waves. “Sweet dreams, (Y/n)!” 

He leaps out the window and you gasp in horror. You think he’ll immediately fall to the ground to his death, but instead, he summons a pillar of flame and lands on his feet. You gasp at his power, and he glances up at you from the ground. He waves to you again, a smile on his face that shines even in this darkness. You wave back, unsure if you are dreaming, as Ace runs through the woods, out of your sight. 

You collapse onto your bed and remove his hat. You press it against your chest and stare at the ceiling. None of this seems real, but the scent of Ace from his hat reminds you that yes, this is, in fact, very real. 

You can’t help but laugh at the irony of this whole situation. But your heart finally feels a bit lighter, hoping that Ace will come back and show you the world from your little tower. 

You wonder, briefly, what it must be like to see the outside.

#one piece oneshots #one piece x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace #ace x reader

[navybrat817]

Still Get Jealous

Pairing: Rocker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't get jealous. Or does he? Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, slight jealousy, swearing, talk of exhibitionism, Rocker!Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fifth day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to White Wolf and Luna! Finally wrote something for them. Inspired by this ask here by the wonderful @beach-daydreaming . ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Bucky edit by the amazing Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky isn’t a jealous man. He has no reason to be. Playing sold out shows, rocking out with his friends, and getting paid to have a good time? He's on top of the world.

Best of all, he has you.

If only the pricks around you would take a hint.

It made sense that other guys wanted you. The way you carried yourself with confidence and dressed like you were made for sin, you got attention everywhere you went. Just because he slid an arm around your waist and pulled you to his side when some guy hit on you didn’t mean he was possessive. If he dug his fingers in a little or pressed a kiss to your neck, it was a subtle way to make the asshole back off.

It was not because he was jealous.

“Marking your territory?” you always asked once they took a hint.

"If I wanted to do that, I'd put you on your knees and fuck you right here."

He never had to touch you to know that got you wet. The whole crew caught you two going at it more than once and you got off on it every time. His beautiful Luna had an exhibition streak as long as his. You loved showing everyone who you belonged to.

So was he possessive or jealous if he knew you were his?

"Will you ever make good on that promise?” you teased.

Bucky considered it after the latest show.

Downing a shot, he glared at Graham across the bar. He had no issues with the Nonsense Nation guitarist most days. The guy was quiet and usually kept to himself. He hardly ever cracked a smile.

So why was he huddled close to you and laughing?

And why were you laughing with him?

Since when is Graham a fucking comedian?

“Stop glaring,” Steve asked, trying to get Bucky’s attention.

“Why is she shoving her tits in his face?” he demanded to know.

You trying to get my attention, Luna? You fucking got it.

Steve handed another shot over, which he quickly downed. “She’s not putting her tits anywhere. You know she doesn’t want him.”

Bucky knew you weren’t into Graham, but he still questioned why you were leaning in closer. The bar wasn’t that loud. There was no reason to press up against him like that. You were practically in his lap at that point.

“Fuck this,” he muttered as he licked his lips and slammed the glass down on the counter.

“Fuck it,” Steve agreed, nodding over to you. “Go get your girl.”

My girl.

His best friend gave him shit about the two of you in the beginning because he refused to put a label on things. You were a good fuck. The best pussy he ever had. There was no reason to mess that up by calling you his girlfriend.

Somewhere along the way, it became more. You didn’t fuck any other guys and he didn’t pick up any other groupies. He liked talking to you when he wasn’t balls deep inside you. He loved making you laugh.

Which is probably why he wanted to punch Graham’s fucking face in.

You didn’t turn around as he came up behind you, but he heard your gasp when he pulled you back against his chest.

“What’s so funny, baby?” he whispered against your ear.

“Hey, Buck,” you said sweetly, pushing your hips back in a gentle grind. “Oh, nothing. Graham and I were talking about you, believe it or not.”

“Is that right?” Bucky asked, keeping his eyes on Graham as he tilted your head and moved his lips down to your jaw.

“We were,” the guitarist confirmed, taking a sip of his drink and seemingly not bothered at all by the display as he checked his phone. “I owe Jefferson a drink.”

“The fuck does that have to do with me?” he asked, grinding against you in return so you could feel him getting hard.

Wonder if I could get away with fucking you on the bar.

“Luns wondered how long it would take for you to come over and say something if I flirted with her. I thought it would take five minutes,” Graham said as he slid off his barstool. “Jefferson said two minutes.”

Should’ve fucking known you were playing games.

You let out a hum of pleasure when he slid his hand under the front of your top. “Then find the fucking Mad Hatter and get him a drink. Now,” he grumbled.

“Maybe I want him to stay,” you said in a sing-song voice before Bucky cupped your breast and squeezed. “Fine. Thanks for the laugh, Graham.”

“You two behave,” he smirked a little before he walked off.

“No promises,” you said even though the two of you were alone. Well, as alone as you could be in a bar. “Two minutes. I’m impressed, White Wolf.”

“You trying to make me jealous, Luna? Bad fucking girl,” he said, his thumb brushing along your nipple. "Should punish you for that."

"Is it a punishment if we both enjoy it?" you moaned, the globes of your ass pushing even harder against him. “You don’t need to be jealous, but I like it."

“Not jealous,” he mumbled as he buried his face in your neck. "Is he funnier than me?"

If he sounded vulnerable, you didn't call him out on it.

"No, he isn't," you answered, making him breathe a little easier. "And don't you dare ask if I think he'd fuck me better."

"No one can fuck you better than I can," he said, his confidence back in full swing. "But I think you need a reminder that you’re mine.”

You gasped when he pinched your nipple. “As much as I want you to fuck me on the bar, and you will do that one day, I think the bathroom stall will do just fine.”

He may have given Jefferson and Graham the finger when you dragged him away. He also may have admitted later while you slept that he was jealous. Only because you were the best fucking thing to ever happen to him and you could have anyone you wanted.

But you chose him.

And who would the White Wolf be without his Luna?

You gotta love him. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #rocker!bucky barnes x reader #white wolf and luna #bucky barnes #rocker!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Duff 17

Warnings: groping, insecurity, food and body issues, manipulation, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far. ♥♥♥♥

Image credit (I want to give dues where due but don’t want the creator to keep getting tagged in my posts as I have been approached by some before that they don’t want me in their notifs)

You get up to your apartment and lock the door, double checking before you can bring yourself to step away. Finally a chance to breathe, but you can’t.

You go to the counter, plopping your bag on top as you try to gulp down air. The roll and clatter of some unseen object can’t break through your panic.

What the fuck? What the fucking fuck!?

You don’t get it. Curtis, Andy, all of it. One big clusterfuck with no escape. Some weirdo you got stuck with in the club is not your personal pest and your own boss can’t take a hint.

Since when did you become some hot commodity? How could you take for granted all those years of being overlooked? You’d give anything to never be seen again.

You clumsily reach for your bag and fish out your phone. You can barely grip it as your breaths remain shallow and your hands tremble. You pull up your chat with Stephanie and text her; then Isla, then Mindy. You need someone.

You stare at the empty checkmarks. You’ll be lucky if you get a response before the morning. Some friends. 

All your anger and resent boils up until you’re crying again. You were always the odd one out, the third wheel, always left with the scraps and now look what it got you. You blame them. For exiling you to the status of DUFF. For not giving a goddamn shit. Not one of them checked in after that night at the club.

You could throw your phone. Instead you swipe away the more than twenty messages piled up in your notification bar. All from the same person. Curtis is insane, you know that much. You should’ve seen it sooner. You should’ve let yourself see it sooner but you really thought you’d met a decent guy. The first guy to actually see you, but not he’s way too focused on you.

You feel helpless, trapped. You don’t know what to do. You can’t even hide at work with your desperate boss hovering like a shark. How did you not see that either? Well, you wouldn’t expect it. You’ve worked for Andy for almost a year and he’s never tried anything. 

Maybe it’s you. Maybe you’re sending all the wrong signals. Well, you don’t even know what kind of signals to send. When you want someone to leave you alone, they bother you, and when you’ve only ever wanted a bit of attention, you were castigated.

You give up. You get a hold of yourself and count until your heartbeat evens out. You plug your phone into the charger and pick up the half-empty bottle of mint-flavoured sparkling water from the floor. You place it back on the counter and drag your feet across the unlit living room.

You’ll call in, take a day to recover. Maybe one of the girls will finally answer their messages and you can get some ideas from them. One thing for sure, you’re locking yourself up in this place and not going anywhere.

You go into the bathroom, flicking on the light. You look in the mirror and sigh. Are you really the type to drive men mad?

You rinse your face and brush your teeth. You go through the motions, hoping routine can comfort you. It hardly does.

You enter the bedroom and flip off the bathroom light. You walk through the dark. You're too drained to turn on the lamp as you approached the bed.

You strip down to your underwear and pull on the tee shirt you left rumpled up by your pillow. You nestle under the covers and resist another wave of tears. You feel lost. You don’t know which way to go.

You squeeze your eyes shut and pray for sleep. You just need to forget everything. You just need a break. You–

You don’t drink sparkling water. You sit up and hold a cramped breath in your chest. That bottle. Mint? What kind of psycho buys organic mint water?

Your heart hammers. Your phone is out in the kitchen. Shit. 

You get up slowly and listen to the silence of your apartment. You creep towards the door, your footsteps light but scuffing over the carpet and onto the hardwood. You pause just in the doorway as you try to see through the dark into the front room.

You hear the slow roll of the closet door folding back too late. In a moment, you’re wrenched off your feet. You flail and kick, your voice muffled beneath the rough palm as you claw blindly at the figure behind you. His low hush warms the shell of your ear.

“It’s okay, bunny,” Curtis grits softly, “I’m going to take care of you.”

He keeps his hand over your mouth, snug against your nose, blocking all air. Your eyes bulge as you fight to breathe and his thick arm comes up around your neck, squeezing enough to make you dizzy.

"I know you love me. Let me show you how much I can love you..." He rasps.

The world speckles around you, the distant noise of the city pulsing until silent, your eyelids closing against your will, casting you into horrifying black.

#curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #dark curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #drabble #au #series #the DUFF #snowpiercer

[precious-little-scoundrel]

does Ida care about her hair and what happened to it? Is she pulling a Jo March and waiting to break down later when she’s alone over her hair because she doesn’t want to come off as shallow or vain? She’s on my mind too much 😭

I could and should’ve just answered this lovely ask straight up, with a yes and yes and yes and freely admit the Jo March comparison took me out and beat me up. However, brevity is not my strong suit so I wrote you a blurb as well:

Usual universe warnings apply

| | Showers

The shower room at the stalag was more than a little drafty. Worse than inside the combines with no dividing walls or body heat or the padding of blankets and cloth to make it insulated. Utilitarian, drafty and -once Cleven had shut the door behind him and left them alone- slightly ominous.

Or maybe that was just the mood, hanging about like a malevolent spirit, shining in late evening rays through the slit windows high above, altogether too wide a space and too bright a light for the awful task of stripping and washing and making an inventory of hurts like theirs.

Ida for her part would have rather done it at midnight by torch light, just enough visibility to wet her cloth and find the soap. She already knew -as much as she ever wanted to know- what had been done to her. It was over, and any lasting bruise and scar noticed and remarked on was like bringing it all back into the present. That’s something you did for nice memories, photographs of whoever was “home” stashed in a locket hung around Lemmon’s neck, homemade sticky smells wafting up from Croz’s footlocker -a last piece of melting fudge from the plate Jean had sent over. That’s the sort of talisman you kept around, rubbed at, sniffed, turned over in your mind again and again like a physical thing, like a Crucifix represented an all powerful, ephemeral, removed savior.

You didn’t rub your bruises if you wanted to forget them. You didn’t comment on your friend’s cuts if you wanted her to forget either.

Feeling this collective dread, they all just mulled around for a bit, flicking on faucets and drinking eagerly from the icy stream. Acting shy like they all hadn’t been showering together and living atop each other for ages. There was prevarication in the air and Ida knew she needed to put a stop to it, make an effort to lead, but she hardly wanted to see what was under her clothes herself.

In the end it was Tallulah -Lt. Smith- who took the first step back from the sinks and shucked her clothes with an impressive display of casualness. Knowing a thing or two about rhythm and the effectiveness of a slow, steady build, Ida pushed her own throbbing face out of the cooling stream and followed suit. Soon it caught on, each doing their damndest to be uncharacteristically discreet and efficient.

“Can’t undo these shit-ass buttons.” she heard Maureen hissing beside her while she was braving the shock of a frigid soaked cloth between her rawed legs.

Ida dropped the bloody rag in the sink and flung her hands out to disperse the extra drips. “Come here.” she muttered, eyes lowered on the offending buttons and Maureen’s poor, swollen hands that looked more like paws than the graceful, skilled instruments they’d once been at her bombsight in the nose of her plane. “I’ll do them till you get your fingers back. You might need one or two of them set, you know that? That middle one’s going in the wrong direction.”

“I thought it looked wacky.” Maureen agreed, holding it up for inspection. “Gale wouldn’t stop asking.” she went on.

Ida focused on sliping buttons through their holes and answered steadily as she could, “And he’s likely to keep asking.”

“Doesn’t he know.” Maureen whispered, suddenly sounding very hurt, confused, petulant even.

Ida paused with Maureen’s shirt undone, the dingy plain, military issued bra in view -Ida envied her the possession of it, she’d lost hers with her jacket somewhere along the way. “He knows.” She answered firmly, meeting Maureen’s eyes with assurance, “But he’ll likely keep asking.”

“He wouldn't answer about his face.” Maureen said, turning round and letting Ida help tug her arms out of the sleeves.

“I think you know what happened there.” Ida was implacable.

“But-“ Maureen bit her lip to keep from getting loud, “-but what else?” she threw at Ida over her shoulder, “Why? What else did they -why would they do that to him?”

“And now you know why he keeps asking what he already knows.” Ida pointed out, coming back to her front and bending to unlace Maureen’s boots. “They’re probably all standing out there asking each other the same. Doesn’t do anybody any good. The details. It’s the apple of knowledge, leads to nothing but a sick fascination with what hurts you.”

Maureen had always been a rambunctious, animated figure in Ida’s life. Her anger came easy and was obvious, as were her loves. And if something didn’t make sense to her she’d rail at it or about it until God answered. She had teased Ida and John about it, that if they’d just come over to the Protestant side, they’d have a direct line to god and a whole lot more fun. Ida didn’t care about doctrine or fun right now, she cared about Maureen not trying to make a philosophy out of what she’d endured, or rope-in Gale to mull it over until they both went nuts. Ida wasn’t going to order her not to talk about it, but she could hint that details would hurt Cleven more than help him.

Here and now at least.

Maybe there was some moment waiting for them after all this when things could be said, horrors swapped like every other hard memory told in the officer’s lounge.

For herself, Ida doubted that day would ever come.

“I think your head might need stitches.” Maureen said in lieu of a response, puffy sausage fingers running gently along Ida’s throbbing and freshly washed scalp. “You’ve got a big gash here. It’s still bleeding.”

Maybe it was the gravity of bending over to tug off Kendeigh’s boots but Ida suddenly felt a pooling in her eyes, stinging tears after hours of dried out watchfulness.

God! She’d been ready to die, to be put down with a bullet in the head like their family coonhound when he got rabies.

Not this, not that replaying memory of her face suffocated in the Kommandant’s thigh and the slicing pain of the shears that went on forever, the way the blood burned her eyes so badly when she stood back up, the way he dared call her ugly when she had spent hours before wishing those other men found her abhorrent. Ida’s eyes were burning again and three damning droplets fell to the dusty toe of Maureen’s boot.

Ida made certain to swipe her thumb over the evidence as she tugged it off. “Luckily my brother is good with needles.” she joked softly, rising and turning Kendeigh toward the sinks, “Those fingers are useless, Candy. I’ll wash your hair.”

💋Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

MOTA taglist, I only have one so ignore if this is not the universe you signed up for. 🤓 :

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#mota #masters of the air #mota fanfic #mota oc #those who can #twc blurbs

[cowboybeepboop]

Through the window

“Fuck you”

“Baby thats what youre gonna do”

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2214

Summary: Late night self pleasure turns into more than self pleasure.

Warnings: p in v, mainly porn with some plot, disgusting words for clit cause it got a little awkward at 1 am, use of vibrator, age gap (like three years), major daddy issues, kinda some Voyeurism, roughness from Bradley but with sweetness, praise kink, hair pulling, getting caught.

A/N: Literally just me writing this while sobbing to Shawn Mendes songs, also I wrote most of it while sitting out in front of my school 💪😩💪 I’m a fucking vibe. I don't know if there's like a big fandom on here anymore considering Top Gun Mav has been out for a while now but yk who cares. Also lowkey have been binging Harry Potter and the last of us so maybe I’ll write some of that later. Not proof read like ever

Bradley has been your built-in best friend, being Mavericks daughter means that you spent the majority of your childhood eating dinners with Carole, having Carole brush your hair and tuck you into bed. Carole Bradshaw became your adoptive mom, she taught you to cook, bake, sew, she helped you with your homework and made sure you knew your worth.

Mav was hardly ever around, he put his heart and soul into being a better person so that Goose wouldn’t be disappointed in him, this being said he forgot about the responsibility of actually taking care of his child. But you never blamed him for it, maybe it’s because when he was there with you all he ever wanted to do was cuddle on the couch watching your favorite films. Sometimes he would come home and lay his head on your lap and you would brush and braid his hair.

So, because of your sometimes absentee father, Bradley filled in. He was there with Mav for every milestone, kindergarten graduation, elementary school choir concerts, he even took time from his busy schedule to come to your highschool graduation.

Which makes your sexual attraction to him all the more disgusting, he basically was your stand in father, even though he was only 3 years older than you. But when Maverick finally realized he had a responsibility to spend more time with you, Brad stopped being like a father figure and more like an older friend who you had the hots for.

Bradley hasn’t been home for months-or longer, you totally haven’t been counting, and it totally hasn’t been exactly 8 months 3 weeks and 5 days. He isn’t planning on coming back any time soon, at least if he is he hasn’t told you, which is why you’re stuck pouting with your face between your hands as a few people purchase drinks from the bar.

You work at Penny’s bar, The Hard Deck, which is lowkey awkward considering your dad used to date her. But nonetheless she treats you like her own daughter. The only thing you dislike about working with her is the fact that she scolds you when you flirt while working, it's understandable but makes you want to roll your eyes.

Maverick walks in with a small smile on his face, sitting down at the bar in front of you, “How’s your day Y/N?”.

“It’s pretty good Mav, Penny might want to talk to you though,” winking at him you walk away, heading in the direction of the dart board.

“Hey boys, need a refill?” you smile sweetly, tapping your heel against the wooden floor softly.

“Thank you, baby girl,” Hangman smirks as he hands you the empty bottles, “you know which tab to add it to right?” he nods toward Coyote.

You give a small nod and head back to the bar to grab two more beer bottles, you add the total to Coyote’s tab. He lost in darts, even after covering Jake’s eyes, one more night and you don’t think you’ll be able to withstand his charm any longer.

“Y/N it’s time for you to clock out, if you want to beat the rush and get to your date on time,” your eyes light up.

“Thank you Pen!” you smile gathering your things before clocking out. “See you tomorrow evening.” Penny nods at you, smiling at you softly as you rush out of the door.

__________

Hours have passed along with another failed attempt at online dating. Both things have led to you lying in your bed holding your breath as you imagine what it'd be like if Bradley came home and surprised you.

It started off innocent, him holding your waist close to him, the heat radiating from his chest as you sucked in a deep breath. Basking in his mahogany, sandalwood and vanilla musky scent, it made your knees weak, your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your body felt hot, like you were boiling from the insides out. Squeezing your legs tightly together to keep your panties from soaking your bedsheets.

While biting your lip you carefully open the shoebox hidden underneath your bed, grabbing your bright pink bullet vibrator. If your dad came home, you’d know, so locking the door wasn’t a big priority.

Sucking in a deep breath you relax against your plush mattress. Licking your lips you spread your legs being gentle while unbuttoning your shirt, being slow with each button to build up the tension.

Once you finally peel off your blouse, you throw it to the side of the room before leisurely unzipping your skirt. You’re starting to become impatient, every part of your body is aching to be touched by Bradley’s calloused hands.

“For fucks sake,” a soft whine escapes your parted lips, squeezing your eyes shut you begin roaming your hands all over your body. You squeeze the soft part of your body, moaning Bradley’s name as you do so.

Spreading your legs, you pull down your panties, running a finger through your soaked lips. Once you find the bundle of nerves you start rubbing soft and steady circles into it, this causes your hips to jerk a little while your eyes roll back.

You wrap a hand around your neck putting a comfortable amount of pressure on it, soft moans spill from your lips as you push your hips up begging for more friction. You press the smooth button, listening to the faint hum, you press down two more times. The soft hum from before has become more intense and slightly louder.

Let’s be honest, masturbation is nothing compared to sex. Especially the sex you’ve been dreaming and lusting over since age 16.

A soft smile forms on your lips as you press the rough tip against the hood of your clit, your muscles all tense up while your breathing stops for just a second. It sounded like a rock or something else small had hit your window, after waiting for a few seconds you decide it's probably nothing and press the vibrator against your nub.

You bite down on your lip harshly, squeezing your neck roughly. Sadly, you have a shitty toy because desperate times call for desperate measures so there isn’t much more it can give. Removing the hand from your neck, pushing two fingers into your pulsating hole.

Unbeknownst to yourself, there was now a visitor in your room, one who snuck in from your open window. Hiding in the dark corner next to your window, a hand clasped against his mouth as he absorbed the sight of you desperate and needy begging for more.

“Bradley harder!” you moan loudly, as you pick up the pace of your fingers,your back arching. Cum spills from your pussy, you sink back into the mattress, sighing discontentedly.

“Oh, Sweetheart.” the familiar voice rings through the now silent room. You instantly throw your hands over your chest and squeeze your legs together tightly. “If you needed some help you could have just asked for it.” Bradley walks out into the middle of your room, staring down at you with darkened eyes.

“B-bradley, when did you get in here?” you try to play it cool but sweat is forming on your forehead as you rapidly cover up with a blanket, eyes shifting to the window.

“Do you mean, how much did I see? Or rather how much I heard?” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk, you nod as your cheeks turn a deep red. “Not much, just you pleading for me to be rougher, is that really how you like it princess?”.

“Bradley! Shut up,” you cover your face with your hands while trying to figure out the best thing for you to do now. “Look, I didn’t know you were stopping by. I’m sorry that you, uhm, that you saw what you saw.” Your voice cracks while you barely take a breath, his shoes clack against the floor as he makes his way to you.

The dip in the bed being the sign that he’s next to you. “Y/N, I really don’t care.” He pries your hands off your face. “I know you didn’t know I was coming into town, because it was a surprise.” He sucks in a deep breath, “I just didn’t know I was the one who would be surprised.”

The room fills with silence, just your accelerated breathing and the ticking of your alarm clock. “Hey Brad… Can you please leave?” you push your face into your knees.

Bradley licks his lips, “I think I have a better idea,” he runs a finger down your spine while pressing kisses into your shoulder. Your body relaxes into him as you sigh quietly, he pulls your face from your legs “Look at me, my pretty girl,” you slowly open your eyes while avoiding making eye contact,

“Darlin’ I want you to look in my eyes,” biting your lower lip you look up at him innocently, his hands move to cup your cheeks and pull you into his face. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he grips your neck and leans into kiss you.

You move onto his lap while tangling your fingers in his hair, he groans into your mouth before pulling back. Bradley pulls away from your lips and moves to kiss your neck, using his body to push your back against your bed. You gasp as he explores your body with his mouth, calloused fingers pinching your nipples.

Arching into him you moan loudly as he pushes a finger into your throbbing pussy. “You like that?” his voice low and seductive, using his thumb he presses your nub softly. Bradley presses kisses all over your stomach, groaning at the sight of you so needy under him, pre cum leaks from his tip as he grinds against the bed.

“I need you right now, please,” you grab Bradley by his face and pull him up. Kissing his lips passionately while grinding down on his fingers.

“Oh what a needy little slut you are, huh?” He pushes two more fingers into you, “is this what you needed? Or is this a little more up your alley.” He smirks while wrapping a hand around your throat, applying ample pressure.

“Fuck you,” you groan, lips parting as your chest heaves, gasps pouring from your mouth.

“Baby, that's what you’re gonna do,” he taunts, Bradshaw has had enough. He finally lays down and pulls you onto his stomach, his hands massage your thighs as he lifts your hips up.

“Bradley wait,” your hands rest on his chest, “ condom, left middle drawer”. He leans over grabbing the small golden wrapper, ripping it open with his teeth, fumbling with the latex as he squeezes it over his tip.

“Thanks for reminding me princess,” he tucks your hair behind your ear, “now ride me babe,”.

Lining your hole up with his tip you begin to lower yourself down on him, moans leave your parted lips. He furrows his eyebrows, hands moving up to cup your breasts, you sink down on his length, wincing at the uncomfortable stretch.

“Fuck, good girl,” bradley groans, his shakey breathing fills your senses. You lift your hips slowly bouncing on his dick, he grabs your ass squeezing roughly. Your hands explore his abs as you use his body to steady your own.

Your eyes squeeze tight, body tightening up around him. Twirling your fingers into your hair you grasp the strands pulling at his roots.

Bradley flips the pair of you over, his eyes dark and dominant as he hovers over you, his hips thrust into yours at a steady pace. He lowers his head to suck on your erect nipple, one hand wraps around your neck squeezing just enough to slow your breathing.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him to you, kissing his lips passionately, your nails dig into his back. Bradley presses his middle finger into your clit, rubbing rough circles into it, while trying to hold back moans you bury your face in his nape.

His thrusts become sloppy, bradleys hand tightens around your neck causing you to arch into him, he leans down sucking dark hickeys into your neck. “Darling, I’m so close,” the sound of skin slapping fills the room as you nod in response.

“Me too Bradley,” you whine quietly. Bradley uses his middle and pointer finger to rub sloppy circles into your sensitive nub, causing your body to jerk forward and your eyes to flutter shut, soft moans fill his ears.

He runs his hand through your hair pulling your head back. Bradley throws his head back in pleasure, you begin to tighten up around him drawing out a long groan. “Rooster,” you chant his name, “more, please I need more,”, he complies with your desires and angles your bodies so he hits even deeper.

Hugging your body close to his, he thrusts a couple more times before you cum around him, Bradley slows down as he cums. His body jerks softly, “Thats the best welcome home present ive ever gotten love,” he whispers into your ear.

Your bedroom door opens, revealing Maverick, “Get your clothes on and meet me in the living room,” his stern voice shakes you to the core.

Well shit

#top gun #top gun fandom #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #top gun smut #top gun rooster #rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick smut #top gun fic #miles teller #miles teller imagine #miles teller x reader #phoenix top gun #bob top gun #fanboy top gun

[hatt0riart]

I WANTED TO MAKE MORE THAN JUST THIS but it took like. a week to get done and im sick these days

anyways in light of mk1's nonsense i revisited some koncepts i had for a roleswap au. i took hanzo's inspiration from a mix of mkx and mk11 outfits and kuai i kind of just winged it based off my own preferences in past appearances!!

more rambling is under the cut about the actual AU :-]

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY ART ON ANY OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA OR CROP THEM FOR ICONS. THANK YOU!

SO I HAVE NOT ACTUALLY DEVELOPED THIS BEYOND SOME OLD SKETCHES I HAD OF KUAI'S DESIGN but i had some general ideas of how this was supposed to work???

the shirai ryu is still alive and well! he's still a family man and very clan oriented. satoshi is still born and grows into his clan's responsibilities, however harumi dies in child birth.

the lin kuei on the other hand is Not Doing Well. they end up getting wiped out during a raid from the shirai ryu and most of kuai's immediate family (whether by choice or blood) ends up going down with them.

prior to this kuai ends up passing after a failed mission to retrieve the map of elements from the shaolin temple in an attempt to prove himself to his clan. (instead of bi-han being the one set on that path, kuai ends up taking the initiative instead WAY before he's ready without anyone's knowledge and ends up dying when met with scorpion.)

most of it is similar how it is in actual canon for how scorpion's story goes. he gets resurrected he pledges loyalty to quan chi in order to get revenge, blah blah blah. mortal kombat happens. the two meet again at some point.

kuai's still on that "you killed my family" juice but its...more so about familial ties (like bi-han and smoke) rather than it being the love(s) of his life (like hanzo's wife and son) , seeing as he died young from his own overzealous nature.

very much has anger issues. he's impatient and has alot shorter of a temper by comparison to scorpion in the original canon. hardly ever humbled until that point lol

hanzo on the other hand is surprisingly more lax. meditates often, drinks alot of tea and while he *IS* stressed he handles it alot better than kuai does. maybe has a problem of ignoring his problems though for the sake of the task at hand.

kuai ends up harassing hanzo alot in this AU even outside of the tournament. he's kind of a bitchy ghost there to remind hanzo of what happened to him and lowkey hanzo guilts over it.

kuai has alot of grim reaper motifs in his design. he carries a scythe made of ice primarily and fights at a more long distance range.

hanzo on the other hand is alot more of an up close brawler. he keeps alot of design traits from mkx with a bit of mk11 sprinkled in for inspiration of his "classic" design.

STILL A PYROMANCER!! i just havent thought out how. he's just regarded with a bit more respect for having those unnatural abilities lol

but yeah this is just me spitballing in bullet points. i'm hoping to make more stuff later that is a bit more...thought out properly but it follows more of like

mk mythologies --> mk9 -> mkx

type of timeline i guess? except hanzo is in bi-han's position and kuai ends up being put in scorpion's. bi-han doesn't really have a place in the AU outside of being a background character and driving motive for kuai's vengeance later on. (though we're not gonna talk about how bi-han's mentality eventually fed into kuai's at a young age and made him come to the conclusions he did before he died.... maybe.)

smoke exists for the sake of painful flashbacks lol

satoshi's also a bg character but he does end up growing up with the shirai ryu and takes on his own share of clan responsibilities. idk whether or not he takes after hanzo's pyromancy or not in this AU but either way he grows up to be a well respected figure in the clan!

alot of stuff outside of this remains the same though, just the lin kuei and shirai ryu's dynamics get swapped.

ANYWAYS YEAH IF YOU READ THRU ALL THIS THANKS FOR READING BYEEEE (i'll be adding to this au more later on when i finish my other sketches lol)

#mortal kombat #au #mortal kombat au #mk #mk1 #mkx #mk11 #mk9 #sub zero #scorpion #kuai liang #hanzo hasashi #roleswap au #subscorp #subscorp roleswap au

[rotdistressxox]

DARLINGGGGG GUESS WHOS BACK FROM THE PYSCHE WARD!!

im currently brainrotting over agito as you can see..can you write how you think he would meet reader and how their relationship would develop into romance with him? like actually i sat at work for like 15 minutes trying to think how but i actually cannot cook anything up.

(Also I'm seeing the ghost stuff and I'm interested...gonna have to do research for dis one☝️)

sorry if i keep sending you silly asks😞

—🪡 anon

JOIN US WE HAVE SEXY POPES WHO DOUBLE AS FRONTMEN AND FREAKY GHOULS. Listen to them, I highly recommend listening to the meliora and prequelle album before delving any deeper. Watch some YouTube videos abt the lore. PLUS THEY HAVE LITTLE EPISODES <3

Time for some more Cakemaster 9000

Phew, this took a while

Kanoh Agito: How does he fall for you?

• Like what I mentioned in one of the headcanons, you work for Katahara. While Agito doesn't directly work for him apart from beint his representative fighter, he's technically his family AND The Fang.

• However, you two hardly see eachother when on the job. BUT-

• You two visit the same coffee shop. He loves his morning Latte, and you love (insert your favorite Cafe drink here)

• When you first started working, you were surprised to see the Kanoh Agito at a small coffee shop.

• He usually greets and addresses you formally, not interested in any small talk.

• "Sheesh, what a stick in the mud" It's not that he was trying to be rude, but he did come off a little condescending when he greeted you. (He has tone issues)

• One day you woke up late and didn't have time to stop and get your usual.

• He notices your absence. "They can't be sick, they showed no signs of it two days ago"

• Long story short, he picks up your order and goes looking for you. Once he finds you, he stiffly hands it to you. "You were late I presume. I picked this up for you"

• Everyone in the room was shocked. The cold hearted Fang buying someone a drink? You smiled warmly and looked into his eyes "Thank you, this was very kind of you"

• His breathing hitched, and he felt speechless. Was he....flustered? "Don't let it happen again, you work for the Chairman afterall"

• You obviously didn't let it happen again....buuuttt it was super sweet how he seemed to care about you enough to get you something.

• To return the favor, you arrived earlier and got him his Latte. Listen, he was speechless before, now he was in shock. He didn't show it though. In his lifetime no one had ever bought him anything or returned a favor. There was a first time for everything.

• You saw through his attempt to hide the baffled expression on his face. It was kinda- cute.

• "Why have you done this?" "Why not? I'm just repaying you" "I-" "Shush, just take the drink, it's burning my hand"

• He has to get there before you now to ensure that he sees you. He's a bit friendlier with the greetings, too. Don't expect a smile though, just a softer glance in your direction.

• When he was around you, he didn't feel like he needed to be The Fang of Metsudo. You didn't hold him to any higher standard when you chatted, you didn't bother holding back a few curses. He felt as if his soul was on Earth instead of hanging in the balance.

• On one of your off days, the two of you get coffee and sit down for once. Finally having a slower paced discussion. It lasted a few hours, you did most of the talking while he had a response to almost anything. There was a lot he didn't know about pop culture.

• Coffee dates became your thing, even though it wasn't technically a date. More like two friends hanging out. Discussions got into deeper topics like pasts and whatnot.

• Agito decided that he could trust you, so he opened up about the Human Gu Ritual. He didn't know what trauma was, so you explained to him that his feelings and memories about that time in his life would be very traumatic.

• "I'm glad you could tell me that, but are you okay? If I had something like that on my chest I'd cry" "I'm quite alright, I'm not fazed in the slightest but I had no idea the caliber of the topic. I hope I didn't ruin the conversation"

• You tapped your cheek and sighed. "Have you ever been hugged before?" Agito thought for a second. The embracing gesture? The only physical contact he's hand was a pat on the shoulder or when he's fighting.

• "No, I don't think I have" "Well today's your lucky day, bring it in"

• He froze as you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into you. His heartbeat raced as he thought of what to do. "Just tell me if you don't like it" you squeezed him gently. He awkwardly put his hand behind your back and rested it there.

• You let go after a few seconds, but he didn't want you to. "How was it?" You smiled.

• "I'm not sure" He smoothed out his suit, trying to relax himself after what just happened.

• A few days passed and you haven't seen him anywhere. He wasn't at work or at the coffee shop. You start to worry. Did you drive him away? Was the hug too much? Oh god was he dead?

• All the while Agito was keeping an eye on you from afar. Not letting you see him, but he could see you. He felt very fragile after that day, he almost felt ashamed. He wasn't good at managing his emotions. And what happened moved him in a way that frightened him.

• He summons the courage to talk to Katahara Metsudo about how he felt. He was the only parental figure he had in a sense.

• "You are a grown man. Is this really a difficult concept to grasp?" Katahara looked out the window of his office. "I'm inexperienced, these feelings are foreign to me"

• 'He's not referring to himself as we and us anymore, this must be serious' Katahara turned around. "To put it simply" he laughed "Tell (Reader) everything you told me"

• "I have a strong regard for you" Agito came clean. You know how I said there was a first time for everything? Well he had a hint of red on his cheeks. This beast of a man, blushing? Utterly adorable

• "So you're saying you love me?" That's the word. Love. He nodded. "Well. Say it then. There's nothing holding you back"

• He pauses for a moment, he's not exactly fond of eye contact. But this was for (Reader)

• "I love you"

• You wrap your arms around his waist again. "That's all I needed to hear"

• His lips curled into a smile as he looked down at you. You parted from the hug and tilted your head to the side. "Wanna go out to a restaurant sometime?"

• "Are you asking me out on...what is it that they call it...a date?" "Yes" you stated bluntly. Beating around the bush or teasing wouldn't get far in this situation.

• "We can talk about plans later, I have important matters to attend to" he look your hand and grazed his lips on you knuckles. Planting a small kiss on it.

• "Now where did you learn that?" "It's a romantic gesture they do on television" you bite your lip from calling him a dork.

• "I'll meet with you later about this date. Until we see eachother again" He leaves, and you're alone again.

• Man, you're already falling for him. It's not like you'd hate dating him. But you didn't want to be head over heels just yet. You looked at your knuckles and sighed "Ah what the hell, being love isn't that bad"

#kengan ashura #kengan omega #kenganverse #kengan ashura x reader #kanoh agito #agito kanoh #kanoh agito x reader

[swe3tte4rs]

" Like a cinnamon roll " - Batfam x Little Sister!Reader

Request: Can I request a batfamily hc with an adopted little batsis who is younger than Damian pls? She's a cute little cinnamon roll and gets spoiled by her rich ansd supportive family.

A/N: (Ignore the tittle and image, I have no ideas) Thank you for the request!! And... I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO UPLOAD THIS 😓😭😓💔💔💔 I'M SO SORRY

It's short, yes ok, I admit it. But at least I uploaded thiss! And I'm also sorry if this isn't written the way you want, I'm sorry.

As usual. This Au is a combination of headcanons, comics, video games, series and wattpad, so not everything will be canon.

TW: nothing? no canon

Dick Grayson / Nightwing

he loves you.

but he hardly has time to spend.

I think he is one of those brothers who lift you up in their arms as a tender greeting. (💗)

"What? I thought kids liked cereal for dinner��"

Don't take this the wrong way, he would like to have time to spend with you, but he has a VERY tight schedule…

Dick would be very protective and he would do everything possible so that you don't have any trauma (or something like that).

He is one of the charismatic brothers, always making you smile with his bad jokes.

And obviously always being by your side as a brother.

If you ever have a bad relationship with Bruce, Dick would cure those daddy issues for you. 🫶

Always giving you life lessons...

Dick would take you out for a walk in the afternoons (if he had time) to have a shake or ice cream.

Jason Todd / Red hood

okey, just let me.

"You want a beer, kid?"

I guess you hardly ever have interaction with each other.

yk, he has daddy issues x100

Jason is one of the brothers who sits you in front of the TV, puts on some cartoon and leaves you there while he does something.

He simply found out about your existence from the news that Bruce Wayne adopted another little girl or Dick told him.

Once he met you and saw how sweet, kind and innocent, he said to himself: "Time to be a good big brother."

Jason would be very overprotective of you, he wouldn't want anything to happen to you.

Sometimes he starts to think and goes blank when he thinks that you are going to be a teenager and have a partner who will hurt you.

He already planned different ways to kill them. Even if they are aliens.

Despite his tough and stern attitude, he also shows his emotional and tender side with you.

Tim Drake / Red Robin

It's a good brotherly relationship between you, honestly.

Tim, seeing you, so innocent and sweet, decided to be your biggest guardian. (Although there is Alfred as your "protector", but he wants to do it anyway)

Tim would help you with science, geography, math and whatever homework you need.

He may be a coffee addict, but he wouldn't give you coffee even if he was threatened with death. You are very small.

"ALFRED! Y/N ACCIDENTALLY DRINK FROM MY COFFEE MUG AND NOW LOOKS LIKE A DAMN ZOMBIE!!" (like you, fucking brum brum)

Forget what I say...

Support for you... whenever he feels like it.

Nah just kidding, he's very good to you, he loves you.

He would scold you, yes, but then he sees that you are angry with him, he feels bad now.

Cassandra Cain / Orphan

Cass would just be so sweet to you 😭

#bestbigsisterinthefuckingworld

She always makes sure you get anywhere safely and eat all your meals.

I feel like it would be two kinds of big sisters every time you get angry with her because you scolded her… It depends on her mood.

Like like. You go to your room, yell at her and close the door forcefully, she would be sad for your scream and feel bad about herself. BUT, in another case she may simply not care and yell back at you. "FINE!"

But you always return to being the united sisters you always were.

Very sweet, she will always be your support and is always giving you love.

She's someone who takes everything seriously, because you know. So...

If they insult you, let me tell you, she will give any child a death glare. Oh, and she would accuse those children to their parents.

Damian Wayne / Robin

NO INSPO WITH HIM, SORRY DAMIAN FANS, I LOVE YOU

At first he would be like: "And who is this..."

First, you must spend a lot of time with him so that he can trust you and that you are not some spy. /jk

Dami is a very mature boy for his age, so I don't think they do the typical jokes between brothers.

Although, he likes to make you laugh with bad jokes that he copied from Dick.

Damian is not so good at "cohabit" with small children or those his age, but he would try with you.

He would also be a very protective brother, like a faithful guardian.

At first there would be a bit of misunderstanding between him and bruce, but it was later resolved once he liked you.

It would help you with nightmares (if you have them), allow you to go into his room and sleep with him.

A good brother once you know him well. He loves you.

Duke Thomas / The Signal

I think he would also be a very sweet and loving brother.

I think he's one of those older brothers who lifts your feet up to his and starts doing a silly, adorable little dance. Love him.

Sometimes he doesn't take you seriously because of how adorable you are.

I just imagined Duke having cuteness overload watching you try to help him in the kitchen or with his homework.

He would let you try your "makeups" on him, he doesn't care about the teasing, anything just to be your favorite big brother.

The tremendous scolding that kids who make fun of you get from Duke.

I feel like he would be very patient with you, always.

He finds it funny that anyone can bribe you with a simple chocolate or candy.

He would teach you how to play different games. Like football, he would celebrate every time you score a simple silly goal.

[If you like you can add more headcanons <3 || Divider not mine! You can find the user who did it in a reblog of my account!]

#🍓୧ ‧₊˚ Request answered! ⋅ ✮⋆˙ #batfam #batfamily #batsiblings #batsis #nightwing #dick grayson #richard grayson #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #timothy drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #hcs #dc #i love them #batkids

[moonlightspencie]

Speak Now

Description: You’re not usually the type of girl (gn) to barge in on a white-veil occasion… but the officiant did say ‘speak now’.

Pairing: Ted Lasso x gn!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

(originally posted on tumblr. then posted on ao3 on 6/13/22. now posted back on tumblr because taylor swift personally attacked me with the speak now tv announcement)

You walked into the pub to get out of the cold, and to drown away any lingering hurt about the event hanging over your head.

It was tomorrow already.

You hadn’t expected all of the planning to be finished so soon, and certainly didn’t expect such a fast engagement. Part of you wondered if he even meant it when he proposed.

It all seemed… Wrong. That was what you told Beard as you sat at the table with him that night.

“If he meant it?” He asked incredulously.

You nodded. “I mean, think about it, in the whole time you’ve known him when has he ever done anything like this? With the exception of dragging us to England, that is.”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, taking a drink. “Maybe he just fell quick.”

You sat back, drinking silently for a few moments while you mulled everything over. Ted could be crazy, but going to marry someone he hardly knew was on a different level. You knew it, you knew that deep down Beard had to know it.

“Maybe I’m just being pessimistic because I wasn’t invited, but it all seems wrong to me,” you finally said with a shrug.

Beard furrowed his brow. “Not invited?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“Ted invited you.”

“No, he didn’t.”

He raised a brow. “He told me he did. Why do you think he’s been talking about it around you?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I just assumed it was only going to be a couple close friends.”

He dropped his shoulders, glaring at you.

“You know you’re one of his closest friends.”

“Then why am I not invited?” You challenged. “See, this is what I’m talking about. I don’t get why he’s doing this at all.”

“And you’re sure this isn’t a deeper issue for you?”

“Like what?”

“Maybe the fact that you’re just about in love with the man,” Mae cut in, picking up your empty mugs. You looked at her with wide eyes. “You’re not hard to read, love.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at her demeanor, even if you wanted to reject that statement with everything in you.

“You’re a real treat Mae, but in this case you need to mind yourself.”

She narrowed her eyes at you. “I’ll let that one slide for now.”

“You’re an angel, friend.”

She hummed, walking away and leaving you to the skeptical gaze of coach Beard. You looked back at him, giving him a shrug.

“Nothing will make this make sense to me.”

“Uh huh.”

He got up to leave several minutes later, leaving you to wander to a barstool to engage in some more conversation with Mae.

“You know, if it bugs you all that much, you could just sneak in and break it up,” she said with a wink.

“I am not the type of person to go barging into a wedding uninvited,” you replied with a laugh, “But, I do appreciate the suggestion.”

“They always ask for objections, and you seem to have quite a few,” she sang.

You laughed again. “I don’t know if that’d be the most appropriate response.”

She sighed. “Can I tell you something I think might help all of this?”

“Of course,” you said, leaning against the bar-top as you finished your drink.

“As obvious as it is that you’ve got some feelings hidden away for our Ted, I’ve gotta say it surprises me you haven’t seen the way he looks at you.”

“Alright, are we sure you’re not the one who’s been drinking?”

You chuckled, shaking your head at her. She smiled.

“Only one, but don’t tell anyone.”

“You’re my best friend here, Mae, who am I gonna tell?”

She laughed. “That’s my girl. But seriously, I meant what I said. Give it a thought, yeah?”

“I think it’s time for me to head out,” you said after a beat. “It’s been a pleasure as always.”

“You too, love,” she said with a smile as she waved you off.

You went home, laying in your bed and trying and failing not to think about what she’d said. There was really no point in trying to hide your feelings with how easily she’d already read you, but you couldn’t help the thought of Ted that lingered in your head.

There was no way he’d ever had a second thought about you as anything more than a friend. Right?

Ted laid awake that night, trying to think about the fact that he was supposed to be married the next day, but instead had a head filled with you.

Beard had called him a few hours prior to ask about why you hadn’t been invited. Much to Ted’s confusion, as he had certainly put your name on the invite list. Everything had moved very quickly, but that shouldn’t have effected whether or not your invite got to you.

But now, hearing you’d never gotten one, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was intentional.

You never seemed to notice, but others had pointed out in the past that he could never keep his eyes off of you if you were in the same room. If it was that easy for some folks to pick up, realization dawned on him that it might have been a tell to his soon-to-be wife. But would she have really barred such a good friend of his from their wedding?

She had her whole family coming, surely she wouldn’t object to Ted having more than a couple of his own. He wondered if anyone else had been uninvited, or if it was just you. If all else failed, Henry and his mother would be there, but he wanted his friends to be there to celebrate.

He tossed and turned the rest of the night, waking only after a few hours of sleep.

You got up the next morning, dreading the day. You wondered what Ted was doing as he prepared for his big day, and wondered who else was going to be there without you.

Against your better judgement, you sent him a text.

- ‘hey, just wanted to congratulate you on your big day. i hope you have a great time :)’

You hit send, setting your phone on your nightstand. You looked up at the ceiling, trying to get your mind onto any other subject. Though, it wasn’t long before you heard your phone vibrate with the indication of a message.

- ‘Thank you! You’re coming, right?’

You read the message, and read it again. Was this some weird power play?

- ‘gosh, i’m sorry, i’m not. i never got an invite, i didn’t want to intrude’

It was only a second before a few new messages popped up.

- ‘Intrude?! It wouldn’t be the same without ya!’

- ‘I promise I put you on the list. Seems it didn’t get to you’

Bitterness crept in, a message coming from your brain and to his phone before you could check in with your logical side.

- ‘seems more like i was uninvited by your lovely bride-to-be lol. that’s okay, i’m alright cheering you on from home’

He received your message with wide eyes, his suspicions and yours matching up.

- ‘I’d still really like to see you there, don’t think I can get through without you. I’ll send you a link to the address’

He sent the message along with the map link to the location of the ceremony. You didn’t send another message, mulling over the fact that someone certainly didn’t want you there. You texted Rebecca, asking if you could tag along with her that day if she was going.

You got ready quickly, hands shaking as you pulled on your shoes and grabbed your bag. Rebecca showed up later that day, and you took a car to the ceremony together.

“You’re being uncharacteristically quiet, love,” she said as you arrived at the destination.

“I’m thinking.”

“Uh oh,” she said, though amusement shone in her eyes. “Does that mean we get any entertainment today?”

You turned the situation over and over again in your head, losing yourself in the fantasy of standing up and interrupting the ceremony. After all, even if he thought you were insane, objecting would put off the wedding for the day. At minimum, they wouldn’t be able to marry legally that day.

You knew that was a petty thought, but after a certain point you didn’t care.

Katherine had never seemed to like you no matter how kind you were to her. You’d gone out of your way to provide her a certain level of comfort any time you’d interacted, and she always brushed it off. She had made her way to Keeley’s bad side within an hour because of it all, and that was certainly a feat to accomplish.

Though, as you attempted to converse with certain members of her family, you understood why she was the way she was: they all acted the same way. Stuck up.

You let out a hard sigh as you sat with Rebecca to wait for the ceremony to begin. She watched you, trying to decipher what was going on in your head.

“You know, you being all quiet like this worries me a little,” she sang quietly.

You chuckled. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Partially,” you said with a smile.

She laughed, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze.

“I wish Keeley and Roy could have made it. I think they might’ve liked seeing you do what you’re about to.”

“And what am I about to do?” You asked, eyes wide and a smile on your face.

“I can’t say for sure, but it looks like you don’t want this to happen as much as half the people here,” she whispered.

“Half is an overstatement.”

“There’s enough, I think. We’re all just too afraid to say anything.”

You paused, considering what she said. Did that many people really have concern about everything? If so, you certainly felt a stronger surge of confidence. Though, you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not quite yet.

You waited for the ceremony to start with palms that were becoming increasingly clammy and a heart that beat faster and faster. Especially as Ted came out with the officiant. He smiled at a few guests as he came out, though he didn’t seem to notice you.

Something was on his mind.

As he walked down, he wanted so badly to search for you, but he knew he might have trouble saying ‘I do’ if he knew you were there watching him.

He knew he was probably better off pretending like they were all alone up there rather than in front of a crowd of people.

He also knew he was becoming less and less sure about what he was doing as the day went on.

Music started, the bridesmaids and groomsmen coming down. You only recognized Beard, the rest supplemented by Katherine’s family.

As each person came down, you watched Ted. Part of you hurt to see him there, but part of you found an unfortunate excitement with the fact that he didn’t look overly excited. Maybe you could do this.

You could do this.

She came down next, though you kept your eyes on Ted through it all.

He watched her float down the aisle, and much to his dismay, he didn’t feel the joy he thought he might.

The ceremony officially began, and you watched and waited with baited breath. All of the formalities began, and time seemed to slow. Your heart beat harder and harder, knowing it was coming soon.

Then, the officiant said it.

Silence fell over the room, and you waited for what felt like forever.

But then, you knew it was your last chance and time was winding down.

You stood, hands shaking, as you stared at Ted. He looked back at you, as did everyone else in the room, all of them wearing looks of pure horror on their faces.

You opened your mouth to speak, tongue going dry for a moment. Rebecca reached up, giving your hand one last squeeze of reassurance that gave you the final surge of confidence that you needed.

“I’m not the kind of person who does this. Crashing a wedding, and all,” you said with a light laugh, only Beard joining in on the laughter quietly. At least he covered his with a cough. “But, Ted, I really don’t think you’re the type of guy to marry the wrong person.”

“Excuse me?” Katherine cut in, looking between the two of you.

When Ted kept his eyes on you, she scoffed, arms crossing. You didn’t pay any mind, keeping your gaze on him.

“I— Don’t say yes. Don’t do this, Ted,” you said, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “Just hear me out, think about it, you know?”

“What are you even doing?” Katherine asked again, and this time you glanced at her.

You gestured at the officiant.

“He said ‘Speak now’.”

A few laughs spread throughout the room at that, mostly from teammates from Richmond, but laughs nonetheless.

Ted still kept his eyes on you. “I— I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll come with me,” you offered.

He watched with wide eyes for another moment, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“Meet you at the back door when I change?”

A wave of relief and adrenaline ran through you at that, a wide smile on your face suddenly. You nodded quickly.

He ran down the aisle, and you grabbed your bag, giving a quick kiss on the cheek to Rebecca.

“Work things out with his family for us, yeah?”

She nodded. “Of course. I’ll make sure I have a fun day planned for them tomorrow.”

“You’re my favorite, you know that?”

“I know,” she said with a smile. “Go get him, love.”

You hustled out of the building, going to find the back door. Ted came through as you reached it, smiling when he saw you there, standing in just his button up and dress pants.

He wrapped you in a tight hug when you met, letting out a breath.

“I’m so glad you were around to stop all that.”

“Really?”

He pulled back, looking at you. “Of course. I’m running away from a wedding with you, do you really think my heart was in all that, Ben Platt?”

“I’m so glad I could pull you away from it all for you to make that horrible joke,” you said with a laugh.

He laughed back, then quieted, looking at you in the eyes.

“How did you know?” He asked quietly.

“Mae is very observant,” you whispered with a smirk.

“Bless that woman.”

You giggled, though got cut short when he pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back, butterflies erupting in your stomach after waiting forever for that moment. You separated a minute later, and he took your hand in his.

“What do you say we run away together now?”

“That sounds perfect.”

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso x y/n #taylor swift #speak now #songfic #i’m also in shambles bc i’m literally watching the last 5 min of mockingjay part 2 #anyways #i still haven’t finished season 3 in the slightest either #whoops #gender neutral reader