#This piece was such a pleasure to create for you all
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Cerata's 2024 End of Year Artist shoutouts! (part 1)
Okay so this year was the first time I'd really participated in fandom in over a decade, but I'm truly glad I did because I met a ton of great people, and even got to work on projects with some of them. So I wanted to put all of the cool visual art that I've received last year, whether it be art trade, commission, part of an event, or...fanart? Because that happened somehow?
Anyway, there are a number of other people that I worked with last year, but a bunch of that art started near the end of the year, and as such is not finished yet, hence why this post will be two parts, one now, and the second when everyone else finishes up.
No particular order, all of these artists are great, and lovely people, so do go check out the rest of their work and tell them how cool they are, yeah? Also, some are currently open for commissions, so keep an eye out for that.
(Also, this is my first time trying to do ID text, so bear with me if they're a little rough, despite being a writer, I hate words?)
So first we have @fiyaharts with a lovely illustration of a number of the my favorite Krypton and Krypton-adjacent children. Shadi is lovely to work with and fast to the point where it spooked me a little bit, go off girl.
Next we have two pieces from my favorite Evil Woman Apologist, @vivictory-draws, one of a divorced Barbara and Kara being totally normal about it, and the other of my child and blorbo that haunts my waking hours, Conrad. Love N to death, which is why I haunt her with threats of commissioning Joker/Desaad Yaoi.
...Maybe for the next list, who knows...
So next we have the art created for the last @womenincomicsminibang (which is going to be returning with a reverse bang in a few months, keep an eye out on that.)
The lovely and evocative cover was done by the talented @breakingthespacetimewall, and the scenes of Cassie trying and failing to get her life together were done by the wonderful @soop-jpg
Working with them was a pleasure and honor, and their dedication and kindness really helped me through finishing that fic, and I remain incredibly grateful for that.
The first person I worked with this last year, and the one who really helped solidify the core of a lot of my projects, @nicodrawings drew a glorious cover for my mania-induced first longfic, and also a character reference for the aformentioned disordered young man who haunts my waking hours. She's a professional through-and-through, with wonderful instincts and great communication. She's also working on a fan-comic project of her own that I think is wonderful and am excited to see continue.
I lucked out and was paired with the super chill, super talented @byeara on my first fan project ever, and they hooked me up with this super fun and detailed cover for the fic I wrote for that one kon-centric minibang. I loved working with them, and would love to do so again, logistics willing.
This jerk @vnekey made me cry by drawing really sweet, totally unexpected fanart for that mania-fic I wrote. I'm still a little speechless really, I'd never gotten fanart of any sort for any reason before, and to receive something so lovely as the first thing really touched me deeply, and honestly kept me writing through some rough patches.
...Fight me!
My first ever art trade! Kind of! @spider-jaysart is super sweet and supportive and made my...second biblically (is there a Source bible? Are there religious Coluans?) cursed son and his hapless, frankly narratively cursed best buddy look so precious that they ALSO made me cry, can we stop that actually--
Speaking of my cursed son and his narratively cursed Kryptonian, @spicy-apple-pie created this really pretty piece that's...a number of weird deep cuts smushed together into something really specific, but neat if you have the context, which nobody does :3
She was so wonderful and patient and I really enjoyed seeing her run with her inspiration, the Kryptonian mural is super neat and not something I would have ever come up with on my own.
@mediaraiz Is really stylistically flexible, and their "Blob" style really scratched that itch I had for something cute and playful, and they were so game in taking on a larger project, and then went above and beyond in making my lanterns looks truly special.
Finally (for now), @riverdeansart drew a sweet little scene of two horrifyingly stressed totally fine spacebros chilling and chatting about how everything is completely okay!
I was super vague about this one and Dean did a great job getting the vibes right anyway, and with haste.
...So yeah, that's if for now! I'll circle back in a bit when I'm forced to let more artists out of my basement everything else is done!
#shut up cerata#artists on tumblr#dc fanart#art commissions#art requests#kon el#jon kent#damian wayne#cassie sandsmark#chris kent#osul ra#otho ra#kara zor el#barbara gordon#cissie king jones#rose wilson#tai pham#sinson#lor zod#dc ocs#conrad bishop#brian bishop#emily andersen#Dyl Nox#Thyra Valkyr#image description in alt
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Tag drop: Jing Yuan (incomplete, but the rest will be added behind the scenes) (... and a little return of Yelan's aesthetic, for I've missed her desperately)
#[ jing yuan. ] history will make its own judgment. if i succeed; it will state that i am supremely confident in my masterful strategy.#[ jing yuan: ic. ] but if I fail; then all will state that i am neglecting my duties in wanton pleasure. preferring finches over my people.#[ jing yuan: inquiries. ] if you want to distract me with questions; i urge you to stop. / ah. how could you suspect such malice?#[ jing yuan: countenance. ] he is also a master of the arts of concealment. When he decides to “show” something: it's time to be careful.#[ jing yuan: introspection. ] the xianzhou has very few legends. for what room is there to create legends among those who do not die?#[ jing yuan: meta. ] have you memorized all that? / yes general. / very good. but only when you've forgotten it: will you be ready.#[ jing yuan: little notes. ] it is a warrior's game. singular encounters with endless possibilities.#[ jing yuan: wishes. ] the pieces are like us; each with its sentience. there is no going back on the board; how can one return to the past#[ jing yuan: etc. ] only the truly wise can stand proud in front of the undefeated enemy called time.#[ jing yuan: the luofu. ] they name the xianzhou luofu as just xianzhou; but one is not the other. the luofu is the luofu. it is no more.#[ jing yuan: cloud knights. ] the cloud knights entrusted their lives to me. i shall not fail them.#[ jing yuan: wave-treading snow lion. ] how could i turn down looking after a long-extinct little animal to help continue its lineage?#[ jing yuan: high-cloud quintet. ] the past cannot be pursued; but the future can still be hoped for.#[ jing yuan: yanqing. ] it is my fault. i should have given him an opportunity already. a sharp sword can't stay sheathed forever.'#[ jing yuan: jingliu. ] in an endless night… there is nothing closer than the bright moon: always hanging in the sky.#[ jing yuan: blade. ] it is never wise to put down the hammer and take up the sword.#[ jing yuan: dan heng. ] bygones are bygones. but sometimes i wish things had turned out differently.#[ jing yuan: v. youth. ] ah. that carefree new cloud knight recruit. i was like that once upon a time. but it was a long while ago…#tag drop
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i brought up the concept for to feed an ocean to some friends but the conversation turned kind of. intense. in a stressful way so it's just been stewing in my head since then, and this is pretty much how it's taken shape:
you are a child born into godhood, and you are not allowed to feel because your emotions bleed out of you in lightning storms and earthquakes, they are ugly and loud and too much and so you are taught to feel quietly. to not actually feel at all.
you’re a kid with a best friend who lets you feel Everything and you love them so you learn to love them with everything in you. because nobody else wants it but he craves it. craves your sadness and joy and anger, the way it crackles through the air and over his skin. you’re taught to feel quietly so you channel all of your feelings into one thing, one person.
and then that person dies. for you. a sacrifice for a sacrifice. a goat to save the lamb. and you believe that you have doomed him, tainted him with your everything.
you always talked about crawling inside each other's skin, making a home in the cage of your ribs, falling asleep to the beating of his heart.
you were a child born into godhood and your feelings bleed out of you like tears, like pouring rain and the relentless ocean tide. and your feelings drive your hands and your mouth and there is flesh in your teeth because you will keep him. you will keep him with you, always, under your nails and in your veins and in the lining of your stomach.
you kneel in the sand, stained red red red, and the sky is crying with you and you hope he will find peace in the lullaby of your heartbeat. you do not want to be alone. you do not want him to be lonely.
the main characters are two boys from The Burrows
Slova is one of the first casters to manifest outside of the royal family, because of this is village consider him blessed and he becomes a sort of religious figure to them
he's taught not to feel, because back then casting was a lot harder to control so it would react to his emotions and things could get messy
R is from a Makai bloodline which gives him the gift of foresight but he doesn't actually know that at first, he just has odd dreams and weirdly accurate predictions
Slova is almost sacrificed, the village believing that spilling the blood of the blessed will bring them rain, but R saves him
they run away from The Burrows to the ocean because R's always had these dreams about it and he feels like the answers lie there
R's gift grows stronger and starts like. fucking with his head. because, similarly to Slova, he's never learned how to control it - touching or even looking at someone too long fills his head with visions
they're obsessed with each other in really gross, intense ways
#this is pretty much just my like. hm how would you describe it- 'go crazy go stupid' story#idk how to explain all the gross bloody messy devotion#taking pleasures of the flesh a step too far#idk how the ending happens yet i just know slova eats r and then drowns (could maybe happen the other way around too)#something something eating your god#and the story of it gets twisted over time until it becomes A Priest Giving Pieces Of Himself To The Ocean to Create Marine Life#bc to be fair the result of this story is the first prototypes of sea monsters - slova and r are why sirens eat flesh#side quest: to feed an ocean#cannibalism cw#**PLOT SUBJECT TO CHANGE OVER TIME BTW**
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ROUGH N ROWDY ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN
⊹₊˚. when he’s rough with you, it only gets better and better.
⟡ feat. gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, kamo choso.
⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, various degrees of rough sex, spanking, face fucking, reader wears a skirt in choso’s, scratching, biting, one face slap, clit slapping, overstimulation.
⟡ xoxo, juno: my fav men <3 rbs are appreciated sososo much !!
— GOJO SATORU.
“fuck, so good..” satoru groans loudly, silencing your wails as he pushes your head deeper into the bed. he’s behind you, fucking your pussy with no regard for how rough he’s being.
he grips your hips so hard that his nails have left crescent moons indented into your skin, and it makes you cry into the sheets. satoru could always get a little rough, depending on the day and how you felt about it. but he’s always been really mean when he fucks you like this.
“toru, t-too rough!” you scream into the sheets, hole fluttering with delight when he slaps your clit.
“i don’t think so,” he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “seems like your pussy likes it, yeah? you’re always such a slut when i fuck you like this.”
your moans and cries are muffled when he slams your head further into the sheets, going so far as to rub your face in the puddle of drool you’ve created.
“aww, you’re sucking me in so greedily. i think i’ll keep slapping your slutty pussy, hm?”
he punctuates his statement with a stinging slap to your clit that has you sobbing, pushing back against him. satoru’s nails rake down your back, leaving puffy marks on your skin.
“satoru, harder!” you finally jerk your head to the side and stare at him, face messy with drool and tears.
his fingers thread through your hair as he adjusts your head and pushes you back down onto the sheets. “oh, but i might as well not touch you, huh? the agreement was to keep your face down, and your ass up.”
— GETO SUGURU.
“oh, come now, you can take it.” suguru’s voice is firm, and he accentuates his point with hard slaps to your ass. whiny, pathetic cries of his name leave your kiss-bruised and bitten lips as your head falls forward, eyes dazedly focusing on his cock pistoning in and out of you.
“s-sugu, please, it’s too much, i—” a slap to your ass, harder than the last, cuts you right off and has you moaning. your ass stings, the skin hot but still ready for more.
“hm, you wanted this, isn’t that right?” he groans, choking on pleasure as he tries to keep his voice still. the sound of his wet thrusts fill the car, the air heavy with sweat and the scent of sex. your fingers scrabble against the car door, nails biting into your palms when he thrusts particularly hard.
suguru’s cock slams into the deepest parts of you, punching moans from your throat every single time. he’s trying hard to be mean, keep his composure, but you’re squeezing him so tightly he can barely form a coherent thought.
“yes! yes, suguru, please go a l-little slower, it’s too much..” drool seeps from the corners of your lips, trickling down your chin as you pick your head up, craning your neck as much as possible.
behind you, suguru is smirking at you, the always loose piece of hair on the left side of his head sticking to his sweaty forehead. the rest of his lengthy tresses are pulled into a sloppy bun at the back of his head, strands escaping with the force of his thrusts.
“no can do, baby,” he whispers, fingers of one hand digging into the softness of your hip. “all that teasing earlier definitely calls for this.”
— NANAMI KENTO.
“i really hate having to work overtime, princess,” kento huffs, yanking your hair and making you arch, head turning towards him.
“i hate it too, kento!” you cry, nodding. more tears fall down your cheeks with the movement, and he lets your hair slip from his hands as he moves to wrap his hand around your neck.
“think i want to pound you so hard we both forget i was late to dinner, hm, angel?” kento’s voice is sweet and steady, although he’s fucking your overstimulated pussy so hard it’s squelching and dripping.
you’re bent over and entirely at his mercy, stuffed full of his cock, the pressure so tight inside you you want to almost run away from it. the large, strong arm wrapped around your entire midsection and his hand on your throat keeps you in place, causing you to press your hands into the wall for support.
you’ve gone dumb on his cock, words slow to form and confused at the amount of times you’ve cum. five? eight? every time you try to form a coherent thought he fucks it away quickly, so you’ve resulted to responding only to what he says and thinking about nothing besides kento. he hasn’t even let himself cum yet, he’s that dead set on making you forget about dinner..
“k-kento, i’m gonna cum again, ah!”
“mhm,” he mumbles into your shoulder, before biting down hard into your skin. with a whiny cry, you sob as you cum again on his thick cock, walls squeezing down on him.
he allows you mercy, staying still as he holds you tightly, hips pausing. the second you loosen up, hole still fluttering, he’s immediately fucking into you again.
“kento, it’s too fucking much, i—”
he stands straight, yanking your hair so you’ll look back at him with that pretty, teary face of yours.
“no,” kento says firmly, lightly slapping your cheek. “you can still cum a few more times.”
— FUSHIGURO TOJI.
“fuuuck, s’good,” toji tightens his grip on the back of your head, fingers twisting hard in your hair. he pounds your throat at an unforgiving face, his hips rough and demanding as his tip plows into the back of your throat.
“takin’ it like a damn champ.. good fuckin’ girl.” he groans, his voice raspy as he tosses his head back. tears pour down your cheeks as he completely stuffs your mouth full with his cock, and you rake your eyes up and down his shirtless chest before settling on his face.
a thin sheen of sweat gleams on his well-muscled chest, heaving while his abs clench. distracted by his attractive body, you slowly, unconsciously start to back off his cock.
“nuh uh,” toji grits, swiftly yanking you back into place and shoving his cock deeply down your throat, “i haven’t cum yet.”
you gag loudly, more tears falling from your pretty eyes. but, toji doesn’t really give a damn — he draws his hips back and shoves them forward before he’s back to the tempo he’d set before. you spread your knees, sliding a hand between your thighs and pressing at your clit through soaked panties.
he scoffs, caught between a laugh and a raspy moan, and smirks. “love it when you’re a slut for my fuckin’ cock. that’s real good..”
— KAMO CHOSO.
your back hits the wall, and a sharp crack of pain resonates through your body before choso’s pouncing on you, yanking your skirt up your thighs without hesitation.
“c-choso, slow down!” you gasp, but he just spreads your legs and slides his pants down. “my skirt’s not even off yet, wait—”
“mm mm, need this. need you.” choso leaves no room for discussion as he slots himself against you, hot and hard and pressing between your legs. “it’s been too damn long,” he states, tugging and rolling your shirt up to your shoulders.
his large palms smooth against your thighs, and he looks into your eyes and then shifts his gaze to your neck. “mhm, please..” is all you answer, voice soft as your hips buck into his own.
choso’s hand lands on your neck and he digs his fingers into the sides, not gripping yet, and tugs your soaked panties to the side. then he guides his cock between your folds, and shoves himself right inside you. your leg lifts, and he holds it tightly at his side, keeping you spread open.
as you gasp “choso!” he grips your neck hard, effectively choking you and making your eyes roll right back. with his lips pulled back and his teeth catching the low light of the room, he leans in towards your tits. teeth dig into your skin as he bites your nipple sharply, and your chest bounces as you reel back in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
“oh, that hurts like hell,” you groan, slipping a hand into his messy hair and undoing his spiky buns; then you push him in. “bite me harder.”
choso’s grip on your neck tightens further, teeth baring down on your other tit in a flurry of bites, his hips slamming into you all the while.
you choke, garbling out some sort of expletive, and his thrusts are so fast and hard that you consider that they sting just a little. the thought of the little shocks of pain all over has you clenching on his cock like a vice, growing wetter and wetter.
his groan into your tits is whiny, and then he’s spasming and filling you with all his cum.
choso finally tugs himself off your tits, lips shining with drool. looking down, you see that your tits are bruised and fresh marks are blooming across your skin. cum starts to drip down his cock, and yet he still pushes himself into you with a whine. but he still stays hard inside of you — he loves to throw you around, mark you up, and use you like a fucking fleshlight, even though it means overstimulating himself too.
#kurooh#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#gojo smut#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#nanami smut#nanami x reader#toji smut#toji x reader#toji x you#choso smut#choso x reader#choso x you#jjk nanami#nanami x you#jjk fanfic#gojo x you#getou suguru x reader#geto x you
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cod characters fucking fleshlights
this post includes: soap, ghost, gaz, price, graves, konig & alejandro
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soap 🧼- the one that takes his time
now, this ain't soap's first time using a fleshlight. he started with a tenga egg or something like that, just for the sake of trying something that wasn't his hand. and i just know that troughout the years he has created a decently sized collection with a lot of varietiy: fleshlights imitating pussies, asses, mouths,... even if a man like him could easily pull a pretty lass to fuck, with the job he has and what it requires of him, it isn't always ideal.
but there is one thing that soap does, no matter weather he's fucking one of his partners or a plastic replica: he takes his time. stroking himself tentatively before lubing his dick up and loweing the fleshlight onto his hard on until he's balls deep. and when i say he fucks it as if it were a real person i mean it. he's fucking int in diferent positions, jerking himself with it but also fucking into it, both slow and fast until cums all over himself
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ghost 👻- the stretcher
ghost sometimes has to ask himself if he's really that big and thick or if it's just that the one or two fleslights he owns are way too fucking small. he doesn't know, but he very much loves it. there is something about the size difference, the way the plastic stretches to fit him and how he can perfecly see it expanding as he pushes his dick deeper into it that makes him go feral.
now, other than his size kink goin brrr, he finds himself swiping his cock against the flesglight's pussy-like entrance, as if he were teasing a real cunt, before fucking himself slowly into it. he's mersmerized by the plastic doll completely swallowing up his aching hard dick until he's balls deep. he also intends to pull out - just to save himself some clean up - but he finds himself so overwhelmed by the feeling and visuals that he just fill the fleshlight up with his potent cum - more than once, at that -.
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gaz 🧢- mess making perpetrator
this may be my most repeated gaz headcanon but he's a mess maker and there is no deniying. when he get's home from a mission or something like that and he doesn't feel like trying to find a partner to fuck, he always has a trusty fleshlight. the thing is, he doesn't even make it to the bedroom most of the time, deciding to just fuck it in his livingroom.
he just plunged deeply into the plastic pussy, stretching the plastic over his limit because his dick is too long for the small fleshlight, almos breking it. the pent up hornyness and the feeling of something other than his hand wrapped around his dick sending him into an orgasm faster than he expected. he pulls out to first his impossibly hard cock when he feels himself about to cum. and he stains the sofa with it as the mess perpetrator that he is - and let me tell you, it ain't the first time he's had to clean his seed out of that sofa.
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price 🚬- the first timer
price is an older and more traditional man, he would rather fuck another person than some piece of plastic. but he keps hearing his men talk about fleshlights, how good they feel,.. and all that combined with the fact that he ain't getting younger, he's extra tired and trying to find a partner with a job like his is tedious, he decides to get himself a fleshlight just to try it out of curiotisty.
what he did not expect was that god forsaken piece of plastic would feel that fucking good. all it took was some slow deep strokes into it before he found himself cumming. and at that moment his lust filled brain took over and he started fucking himself into the fleshlight again, trying to extend the pleasure of the orgasm. let's say he now fully understands why his men praise them plastic holes.
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konig 🗡- the nasty fucker
lets be real, konig is fleshlight collector number 2. anxiety gets the best of him so he would rather to make do with some plastic pussy or ass than having to deal with the hassle of interacting with people. his not that experiended ass is fucking enamoured by the feeling of and ass or pussy, even if it isn't a real one.
now, konig allways finds himself doing two thing every time he uses one of his fleshlight. a. he moans. like a bitch in heat. he can't help it, it just feels overwhelingly good to have something wrapping tightly around his unexperienced cock. and the fact of finally getting some release. b. he makes messes - yup, mess making perpetrator no. 2 -. spit, precum, lube and cum mixing all together, covering his dick, hands and fleshlight as he fucks himself dumb and slaps his dick all over yhe plastic ass.
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graves 🪦 - the stressed
now, these military men always find themselves stressed out, it's a part of the job. but for graves, said job and the tension that it generates have kept him away for some time now from a real pussy or ass. so a fleshlight is a good alternative, giving him all that he needs to reach some much needed release.
the few occasions he has had enough time to indulge in some pleasure, he's going to make the most of it. alternating slow, sensual deep strokes and fast shallow ones. hands making sure that the fleshlight stays in place as he plunges into it chasing an orgasm and moanig at the sweet feeling of release. he for sure cums deep inside of the plastic masturbator, because it may be plastic, but he loves creampie-ing it the same way he would creampie a real person.
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alejandro 🤠 - the tip teaser
alejandro doesn't strike me as the type of person that would have a proper fleshlight, you know? instead of a piece of plastic that fully engulfs his dick he has one of those quickshot ones. a transparent one at that. it gives him a lot of options, from fully jerking his cock with it to just teasing his tip.
and oh does he love to tease his tip! using that comact masturbator to play with his angry red bulbous tip. pushing just the head in and out, sometimes tilting it to make his dick pop out of the fleshlihgwith a wet noise. and seeing his cock breach into the plastic, dick twitching at the feeling, his stomach spasming from the sensation... he always inevitably cums all over himself, staining his hard shaft, lower hairy stomach, thights and even the quilt.
#cod#cod smut#cod headcanons#p!link#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#captain price#soap smut#soap fanfic#soap cod#ghost smut#cod ghost#kyle gaz garrick#cod gaz#gaz smut#cod price#price smut#john price smut#cod john price#john price#johnny soap mactavish#cod graves#graves smut#phillip graves#konig call of duty#konig x you#konig cod#alejandro vargas#los vaqueros#cod alejandro
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WARNING FLASHING IMAGE AND COVERT HYPNOTIC LANGUAGE
Isn't it the BEST feeling when you find one of those flashing images that you stop on while you are scrolling through tumblr and find yourself just relaxing and staring longer and longer. Sometimes you find yourself just staring mindlessly at an image, it happens to the best of us. Images can be so captivating that they draw you in, making you lose track of time. Whether it's a stunning landscape, a piece of art, or even a nostalgic photo, there's something about visual content that can be incredibly mesmerizing. It's like our brains take a little vacation, soaking in the details and letting our thoughts wander. Ever had a particular image that you just couldn't look away from? yes, yes I am sure you have, it doesn't matter what the image is, the small flashes and words just seem to draw you in deeper and deeper.
One minute you are scrolling through image after image feeling yourself spiral down that rabbit hole, then one draws you in and you find yourself fascinated by some aspect of the flashes. It's almost like falling into a visual trance. Whether it's the colors, the composition, or the story behind the image, something just CLICKS and you can't look away. It's a bit like finding a hidden gem in a sea of content, or like stumbling upon a treasure that you didn't even know you were looking for. That one image can evoke memories, spark creativity, or simply captivate you with its beauty. It's a reminder of how powerful visual content can be in our lives.
it's like giving your mind a mini-vacation. Just letting go and getting lost in an image can be incredibly soothing. It's a simple pleasure that can bring a lot of peace and relaxation. You can imagine yourself being that woman in the image, her eyes vacant of thought as she reaches down and slowly starts to move her fingers along that arousal you feel, rubbing and moving your hips slowly as you are drawn deeper into the spell the image weaves in your mind. It simply casts a spell, pulling you deeper into its world. The colors, the details, the emotions it evokes, they all blend together to create a mesmerizing experience. It's a beautiful escape, allowing your mind to wander and explore.
Now like this and forget and remember that as you comment on it, how deeply aroused you can be for the RIGHT owner.
#hypnosis#hypnotic#brainwash#hypno sub#hypnotism#controlled#mind control#covert hypnosis#hypnosub#good girls obey#brain washing#bambi doll#bambi hypno#bambi sleep#bambification#bambihypnosis#bambisleep#bimb0fication#bimbo doll#bimbo dreams#bimbo goals#bimbo goddess#bimbo hypnosis#bimbo in training#bimbo training#bimbo toy#bimbohunt#brainwashing kink#brainwashing#brainwashed
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NOT JUST ANYONE’S | A. ANDERSON
warnings and disclaimers, (enemies to lovers), porn w plot (yay), a word count of 15k+?!, wlw content, mean!abby, jealous/delusional!abby, mentions of reader’s hair, abby being a book wormy, abby describes the reader as a goddess (once), fluff, angst, different povs, bullying, light workplace mistreatment, SEXUAL CONTENT, mean/softdom!abby, sub!reader, semi-public sex (hospital’s office), panties stealing, spanking, cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, masturbation, usage of a vibrator (once), scissoring, squirting, nipple play, degradation, body workship/praising, overstimulation, usage of pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl, good girl, dirty girl), cum eating, mutiple orgasms, DARK CONTENT, stalking, act of stealing narcotics, cursing, jealousy, alcohol/drug consumption, mentions of inflicting harm on others, acts of frame-up.
TAPE THAT MOUTH SHUT, this is probably one of the biggest/questionable pieces of art i’ve done. though it’s FINALLY fucking done idk how to feel honestly. i just feel like i have such an emotional bind to each and every piece of work i have done. this is my baby, the full nine months and everything, and now the world will see her for her. i feel like a mother watching her baby go off to kindergarten. :”(
ONESHOT PREVIEW | ABBY ANDERSON’S MASTERLIST
PRESENT TIME
saints mary’s hospital - 2:30 am on a saturday morning
the saying goes, “it’s not about how you start, it’s how you finish.” didn’t quite apply. time seemed to move in a blur, making it impossible to piece together a coherent thought. the room filled only with the echoes of your loud, wanton sounds mingling with abby’s, far removed from anything deemed professional. however you weren't concerned with those details, not at all. with the way abby was able to extract those sounds from your throat was almost painful.
almost.
abby derived an addiction from your pleasure. each moment of ecstasy seemed to fuel her further, driving her to amplify the tempo and depth of her ministrations. as the room filled with the lewd symphony of flesh meeting flesh and intertwined heavy breaths, something stirred within abby. something unfamiliar, uncharted. normally, she would exhibit unrivaled confidence during intimate encounters, but with you, it was different—more intense, deeper. a desperate craving to be perfect, to ensure you'd never seek anyone else, but her. she’d hate to admit it, but the realization gnaws at her: the longing for you even after this is over.
"who's making you cum tonight?" abby questioned the obvious, but her arrogance tone underlined the strong need for reassurance. your moans were her only response, and while she adored the sweet sounds, she craved more. a sudden shift in her fingers’ movements made you yell out, "you, abby.” your words punctuated by cries of pleasure.
abby's fingers, now confined within your tight grip, sensed the growing tension, the impending eruption, the imminent of your orgasm. "uh-huh, come for me," she ordered, "let me hear who’s making a mess of you."
the warnings of your impending release came with fervor, each thrust hastening to the inevitable snap of the tightening band in your abdomen. then when it did, a cry rang out, loud and clear, as her name left your lips in tandem with your essence painting her features. in this haze of euphoria, you suddenly find a sense of clarity, wondering how in all worlds did you end up in this situation, in the arms— or rather the mouth of your boss?
MONTHS BEFORE
saints mary’s hospital - 3:20 am on a monday night
the staff room was still mostly quiet, the faint sounds of a few muttered conversations and the soft hum of the fluorescent bulb created a low hum of background noise to complement the bigger situation in hand. you had just finished discarding your dirty gloves and discovered that some residue had clung to your uniform, prompting a soft groan of disgust to escape your lips.
you picked up another clean uniform and quickly changed into it, your mind wandering to the series of events that led you to this moment. working in a hospital meant dealing with a never-ending slew of new problems each day, some imprinting themselves in your memory more vividly than others.
and this time was memorable—at least for the night —for an aggravating sense. it was a vomiting incident in room nine that not only you witnessed, but you were also permitted to clean up after. fun, you thought sarcastically as you trudged your way with a bucket and sponge. nonetheless here you were, the aftermath, running a hand through your uniform to smooth out any wrinkles with your other hand on the doorknob, taking a long, exasperated intake prior to stepping out.
with a final exhale, you turned the knob and stepped out into the main hospital ward. the familiar sounds of hushed conversations and the constant hum of machinery filled your ears as you walked through the hallways.
with your desk in your line of sight now, your body starts to move faster as the thought of getting some much needed rest sets in. despite that, you took a quick glance around, searching for her presence, but finding no resemblance.
a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you settled into the plush chair, the cushions embracing your tired body. hands squeezing the pads provided on the arm’s office chair, this was heaven. but satan herself wouldn’t let that alleviation last for long, she never does. not in this hospital. your body suddenly tensed up and jerked forward as the sound of a hand slamming into the surface of your desk reached your ears. fuck, you thought, your head automatically turning to see the horned asshole with the little tail stuck up her ass.
“what the fuck was that back there, huh? i’ve had people complaining left and right.” she spoke, her face contorted with anger. you knew that was a lie, only there to further embarrass you in front of everyone. the “great” abby anderson was known to make something bigger than it actually was. but you’d be lying if you didn’t say that disruption left you breathless, seemed like all and any explanation that could clear your name left you, but even if you did, would it even work? or would abby deem it as a barely acceptable excuse, or quote “a three year old can lie better than you” excuse?
you could hardly breathe, your mind racing to try to explain yourself. every mistake seemed to be met with harsh criticism, and it was taking its toll on you. your voice wavered as you stuttered out a singular word in response: “what?”
abby’s expression only hardened further, her voice mocking your supposed ignorance. “couldn’t you see the medication you gave her was gonna result in nausea?”
each word was enunciated with sharp frustration, as if you were supposed to have known better, but you didn’t know. it wasn’t stated on the patient's file that she’d react like that. you followed protocol, knowing the consequences if you didn't, and followed through based on the information in hand. you weren’t in the wrong, and you explained that to abby.
though she didn’t seem to care at all, instead her words echoed through your mind like a painful reminder; you keep it up, and you’ll end up on your ass in front of this hospital.
her threat sent a pang of dread through you, and the loud thud of her office door shutting only added to your sinking feeling. you let out a heavy sigh, bringing your hand up to your eyes and rubbing them, trying to ward off the exhaustion and anxiety swirling within you.
your thoughts were interrupted as you realized the truth behind abby’s threat. you had a proven record as a dedicated and skilled employee, and deep down, you knew abby knew it too. there was a reason she couldn’t just fire you on a whim —she needed a valid justification to complete that pesky employee termination form sitting on her desk.
as you pondered on these thoughts, you let out a resigned sigh, the threat suddenly feeling less intimidating and more like a broken record you heard over and over again.
FIVE DAYS LATER
saints mary’s hospital - 11:01 pm on a saturday night
there was a newfound sense of comfort that accompanied your realization. although abby’s words still stung and cut deeply, you now had a silent reassurance— a knowledge that her threats were ultimately empty, that mere words could do nothing. your mind was now at ease, knowing that despite her harshness, she couldn’t truly harm you. the thought gave you a strange sense of power, even as she spewed her usual cruelty.
with your profound resilience, you found yourself feeling more lively and vibrant than before. you no longer fretted over every small mistake or worry constantly about doing your job wrong. your once reserved and introverted self now blossomed, making connections and building friendships where there had been none before.
amelia, the colleague who sat beside you for a year, but whom you had never truly spoken to, was now a friend, and the two of you formed a bond beyond just work-related interaction.
“darling, it’s wishful thinking that the inferno herself would let you off so easily,” amelia teases, the soft pads of her fingertips dancing along the keys of her keyboard. her familiar british accent rolls off and into your ear, making you scoff.
“it’s just for a day.” you mumble, your hands flipping the page to the never-ending paperwork waiting for you. you stop and look at amelia who’s now reclined in her chair, arms crossed with a knowing smirk.
“oh love,” laughed amelia, her playful jab at your wishful thinking only making her more endearing. “i’d love to entertain your rather ludicrous idea, but in doing so would be criminal!”
her words stung a little, you knew she was right, but hearing her say it out loud had you clenching your jaw slightly. abby would never agree to letting you take a day off from the hospital, it seemed like the whole place would fall apart without your presence.
and while it felt like an honor— at times. you longed for just one day off, a single day to rest amongst the countless days spent diligently working at the hospital. how criminal could that be? as amelia called it, you felt your shoulders sag and nodding quietly in resignation. your features must have betrayed your disappointment, as amelia swiftly noticed and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.
amelia smiled sympathetically, her eyes soft as she saw your frustration. “cheer up, darling. it was just a quip.” she said softly, her tone filled with comfort.
you tried to hold back your tears when you spoke, your voice faltering as you looked up at amelia. “It's not that. i just… work my ass off, and don't even get the recognition i deserve.” your words trailed off as you let out a frustrated sigh. “and it's not like i’m just looking for that.” you pause to mend the right words together. “just some sort of break from it all.” you quickly sniffle, attempting to hide the tears that had escaped from your eyes during your confession. your embarrassment was evident as you turned away, trying to compose yourself. “god, i’m sorry for this.” you sighed heavily, reaching for a tissue to wipe away your tears.
amelia pats your shoulder, her voice filled with understanding. “no, no, i get it, darling. you need a break as much as anyone does in this bloody facility. perhaps more than hamburger-munching samson over there.” she quips, referring to a less than efficient employee.
you let out a tearful laugh, your grin still tinged with sadness. “yeah.” you agreed, your voice heavy with resignation.
amelia smiled warmly at your smile, her hand giving your thigh a comforting pat. “go ask her, and if she doesn't oblige, tell her i'll cover for you.”
her sweet words of offering to cover for you had you fighting back tears again, determined to not further burden her with your crying, and managed to let out a shaky chuckle.
you try to protest, feeling a pang of guilt for potentially inconveniencing her. “you don't have to do that.” you say softly.
however, amelia is resolute, dismissing your objections with a firm, yet gentle push. “no darling,” she replies firmly. “i don’t, but i want to. now go on.” her insistence is unwavering, and you can see that she will not take no for an answer.
with a resigned sigh of “okay”, you straighten your shoulders and approach the entrance to abby's office. a quick glance back at amelia sees her raising her thumbs in a gesture of encouragement to go ahead. you return a grateful smile before turning back around and lifting your hand to knock on the door. but before your knuckles make contact, the door swings open, revealing abby.
you freeze in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of abby before you even had the chance to knock on the door. you realize you must look like a fool, standing there frozen with your arm raised in the air. feeling a sudden pang of self-consciousness, you quickly lower your arm and bring your other hand up to cup it gently, almost as if you could somehow conceal your awkward position.
abby’s smile catches you off guard, surprised to see her display such genuine happiness at your surprised arrival. "oh—there you are.” she says.
you stand there, slightly confused by her unexpected demeanor. her next words, spoken calmly, further perplexed you: "come in." this gentle tone is unfamiliar coming from her, as she's never used it with you before, reserving it only for the presence of supervisors.
she leaves the door open for you, a silence gesture for you to enter before taking her seat at her desk. "i was going to call for you, but it seems like you heard my call telepathically." she quips, chuckling at her own joke.
you internally scoff at her stupid joke, quietly shutting the door behind you as you enter her office. "well, don't just stand there, sit." she instructs, her smile still uncharacteristically cheerful— almost eerie. you can't help but wonder if this is all just an act, a facade that will undoubtedly crack like it always does, given abby's fiery nature. however, you comply silently, watching her sift through documents on her desk.
you struggled to keep yourself from asking what she was searching for after you caught a glimpse of it being the employee files. your heart began to race as an oppressive silence enveloped the room, fueling your nerves. was she looking for your file? was this gonna be the moment when she’d reveal the anticipated reason to use on that dreaded employee termination form? your mind swarmed with questions, each more pressing than the last. how much more can you deal with this suspense looming over your shoulder like the grim reaper.
you attempt to speak in a firm tone, but your voice betrays you, wavering at the edges. “why are you so happy?” your own curiosity battling with a sense of reluctance to hear the answer.
“and why are you so gloomy?” she taunts with a smirk, chuckling. “put a smile on that face for me, yeah? you’re gonna do me a big favor.” she admits, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she mentions the word “favor.” finally finding the paper she had been searching for, she slid it across her desk in your direction. the paper contains the resume of someone you’re unfamiliar with, and your curiosity piqued.
"this is cassidy mcclair," she pauses. "and you'll be her mentor for the week. she's the new replacement nurse after what happened to poor old sadie." a pang of irritation stabs at you as abby uses a condescending tone when mentioning sadie. her untimely demise still weighed heavily on your mind.
you inadvertently let out a scoff as you cross your arms, immediately regretting the impulsive action. abby glances up at you, arching her eyebrow before speaking.
"is there a problem?" her question rhetorical, signaling her indifference to your potential objection. however, you're determined to express your feelings, regardless if rhetorical or not. you werent gonna give some half-ass smile and nod. after all, it wouldn’t be the first time your opinionated mind got you into trouble, as abby so often reminded you.
you respond with a defiant tone, your words clearly expressing your dissatisfaction. “yeah, there is actually.” you retort, your arms remaining defiantly crossed. “you’re supposed to do this. not me.”
abby chuckles at your boldness, her expression growing serious as she responds, “that was rhetorical, surely anyone with a hint of common sense would catch on. frankly, i don’t give a fuck if it is.” she dismisses your argument, beginning to organize the documents on her desk, grabbing the paper in front of you without sparing an eye, her attention now focused elsewhere. despite your differences, you remain silent, yet seething within at her dismissive response.
“be here at eight pm sharp on monday.” she adds, ending the conversation on her terms.
so much for a day off..
AN HOUR AFTER
hospital’s break room - 1:17 am on a sunday morning
after your unsolicited meeting with abby, your emotions were overflowing and the need to confide in someone was at an all time high. though the term 'confide' may be a stretch, considering you practically unloaded your frustrations to the mere mention of "hey, heard you had a meeting with the boss?"
“she didn’t even let me speak, once!” you exclaim, frustration seeping through each and every word, punctuating your sentence with lifting your pointed finger.
talia responds with a sympathetic tone, saying, “she tends to do that..” her words trail off, and you can almost feel the strain in her voice, knowing that she’s the unsuspecting recipient of your pent-up frustrations.
“right! god, she’s so fucking…” you trail off, trying to find the right word to describe her. “infuriating!” you say louder than anticipated.
she looks up from the coffee maker, surprise etched on her face as other heads turn towards you, startled by your outburst. you sheepishly mutter an apology before letting out a dejected sigh. trying to lighten the mood, you force a smile and lean against the counter. "so, have you had to do any of abby's dirty work too?" you quirk an eyebrow.
the long haired girl chuckles at your antics, her gaze fixated on the coffee maker as it slowly fills her cup with the dark, yet energizing substance. she turns her attention back to you, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "yeah, actually.” she replies, her voice filled with good-natured sass. "but she made the task sound much kinder when she assigned it." she jested.
you jokingly say, "oh, fuck you," to which she responds with a playful eyeroll, but then curiosity takes over. "but really?" you ask curiously. "how'd it go?"
a dreaded sigh escapes talia’s lips as she recounts her memories of being assigned to mentor a new employee. the mirth vanishes from your expression as she begins to share her experience, the once lighthearted atmosphere replaced by a sense of foreboding.
“oh, terrible," talia responds through the sigh, her laugh edged with strain before looking back at the coffee maker, which is about a quarter away from being done. "sometimes, i wondered what would be inside her head if i were to cut it open. a brain made out of putty, or no brain at all?" her words make you wince as you begin to imagine what your own experience might be like. the idea of being a mentor to a complete idiot was less than appealing.
talia takes notice of your nervousness and quickly tries to reassure you, saying, "but i assure you, your experience won't be like mine." she offers a nervous smile, hoping to alleviate your concerns.
you respond with an uneasy chuckle and a reluctant "yeah.” not truly convinced by her reassurance. you know that only time will tell if her words will hold true, and so you find yourself resigned to the fact that you'll have to impatiently wait until monday to find out.
THREE DAYS LATER
your home - 6:03 am on a monday morning
the incessant blaring of your alarm felt like background noise for the past three minutes, though you've been wide awake for about ten minutes prior to its start. last night, sleep eluded you, as anxiety and exhaustion plagued your thoughts. you had hoped that your previous activities on your day off would tire you and help you sleep, but unfortunately, that was not the case. you had laid awake for an extra hour, struggling until sleep finally took over.
your anxiety, semi-dissociative state can be attributed to your "big day" ahead, as abby had nicknamed it. the thought of the unknown had you sweating bullets. not to mention, your boss’s words that stayed with you like crazy glue, stubbornly stuck in your mind. with reluctance, you forced yourself out of bed and into the bathroom.
as you turn on the faucet, the soft meows of your kitty-cat, charles, reach your ears. your face lights up with a smile as you turn and spot him. you kneel down, showering him with a few gentle pets as he responds with a pleased purr. "hey, buddy," you whisper, planting a kiss on his head. you then stand up to check the water temperature, only to huff in frustration when it doesn't meet your desired level. turning to the kitty by your side, you murmur, "i know, bud. lemme feed you while i wait for the water."
the kitty yowls eagerly and paws at your legs, anticipating its food. you repeatedly tap the can's bottom against the bowl until the food finally falls free, landing on the plate. the cat's excitement escalates as it watches you kneel down to place the plate on the ground. chuckling, you observe the kitty pounce on the food as soon as it touches the ground.
“eat up, spud.” you give your feline friend one last pat before walking away to the bathroom. you undress and check the water's temperature once more, finding it to your liking. with a satisfied nod, you step inside, letting the hot water wash over you and momentarily rinse away your worries for today.
AN HOUR AND HALF LATER-ISH
saints mary’s hospital - 7:28 am
what was meant to be a calming shower had obliterated your sense of time, leaving you in a scrambling to finish your morning routine. with a start, you realize it was nearly seven-thirty, and sprung into action, throwing your clothes on at an almost superhuman speed. you had never dried your hair this quick before in your entire life. yes, abby had mentioned to be there at eight, but you knew that translated to "be there before eight."
you arrive at the hospital just before eight, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, knowing all too well that you wouldn't make it through the day without it. you quickly exit the elevator, stepping into the lobby to find abby engaged in conversation with a red-haired woman.
the ginger had her hair braided, resembling abby's but with more volume. her fair complexion was adorned with freckles, resembling a sky full of stars. like many others on this floor, she wore a blues-and-white uniform, with a small cat pin attached to her shirt pocket. her colorful keys hung around her neck, and her radiant smile oozed an infectious energy, effortlessly drawing a reciprocating smile from you as you approached.
your smile momentarily falters as you overhear abby's sarcastic, yet condescending tone. “oh, there's the princess!" she exclaims, closing the distance to you with the woman following suit behind. this must’ve been the woman abby was talking about, leaving you feeling increasingly anxious, your eyes locked on the girl behind her. however, abby manages to draw your focus as she speaks up.
“this is cassidy. the one i told you about the last time we spoke.” she says firmly, bringing her hand up to her shoulder and beckons her toward you.
“hi.” you say shyly.
cassidy reciprocates the greeting with a wave, her expression a mix of nervousness and surprise. however, before she can respond, abby cuts in, with a tone of sarcasm. “i trust you won't be as late as our little princess here was," she says, referring to you, causing cassidy to nervously laugh and answer with a tentative "no."
your frustration peaked as you clenched your fists, your anger evident. It was clear what abby was trying to do once again, to twist the truth and make you appear worse than you actually are. she smirked, seemingly enjoying your irritation, before patting cassidy on the shoulder and wishing her good luck.
with the condescending smirk, abby leaned in to whisper in your ear, her tone different, dripping with sarcasm. "good luck, princess." and with that, she walked away, leaving you to face the challenge ahead.
"cunt," you silently say to yourself in annoyance, sending a glare at abby's retreating form. after a moment, you plaster on a forced smile and turn your attention to the ginger girl in front of you. you extend a hand and saying, “hi, i’m y/n."
"hi, i’m cassidy, but you already know that," she laughs, taking your hand in hers and shaking it firmly. after releasing her grip, she absentmindedly begins to stroke her braid with the same hand, a subtle fidget that seems to be her go-to anxiety coping mechanism.
you smile, genuinely impressed by her hair color. “yeah, i love the color of your hair, by the way. it's beautiful.” a hint of bashfulness washes over cassidy's cheeks as she responds, "thank you, it's my natural hair."
you let out a soft "cute..." as your eyes dart over her vibrant locks before gathering your thoughts. "well, let's get to work," you sigh, beginning to walk over to your desk. cassidy quickly follows, and upon reaching your desk, you set down your things and greet amelia with a friendly smile. you then turn your attention back to cassidy, clipboard clutched in your hand.
“alright, just follow me this way.” you lead cassidy through the hospital floor, providing her with a tour of the different departments. while the tour starts off awkwardly, you and cassidy manage to strike up some small talk. despite her quiet demeanor, she proves to be a hard worker, efficiently tending to her tasks. you can relate to her reserved nature, knowing firsthand how it feels to be somewhat introverted.
FEW HOURS LATER
hospital’s break room - 12:40 pm on a monday afternoon
after having cassidy follow you around like a lost puppy, occasionally taking notes on her little cat shaped notepad when needed. you both sat in a corner, eating in comfort silence. amongst the normality, you couldn’t help but notice her lunchbox also in a cat-like shape. a soft chuckle escaped you, causing cassidy to look up from her food, her chewing briefly stopped to ask, “what?”
you point out the box which promptly makes her look down, mouthing “oh.” cassidy chuckles nervously, her cheeks tinted with a hint of embarrassment. "i suppose i’m a cliché," she admits, her smile widening. "it’s no secret now that i enjoy girly things.”
you nod, a smile playing at the corners of your lips in response. "i think it's cute." you utter with a slight smirk.
cassidy grins, a hint of self-consciousness in her expression. "you don't think it's too silly?" she asks, seeking validation.
"nope," you reply sincerely, “everyone has their own interests. who am i to judge?" you shrug, emphasizing the point.
cassidy chuckles again, playfully teasing you with her next words. "i'd beg to differ." she pauses for a moment, before continuing, "dr. anderson seems to be quite interested in you." her tone implies a hint of a tease, suggesting that abby's fondness for you may be noticeable to the people around you.
as soon as cassidy suggests that abby has a soft spot for you, you sputter and cough, practically choking on your food. between gasping breaths, you manage to exclaim, "what?! you definitely need your eyes checked!"
cassidy's eyes widen with concern, and she begins to pat your back to help you through your coughing fit. after regaining your composure, you nod, trying to play it cool as she asks if you’re alright. your voice is still strained when you speak, "i’m fine, but what makes you say something like that?" you ask, completely bewildered.
once she's assured that you're okay, cassidy begins to chuckle lightly and leans back in her chair, arms crossed in a confident stance as if she solved the equation pi in her one sitting. "i’ve seen the way she talks to you," she says, low and soft, smirking.
“yeah, she talks like she has a stick up her ass.”
your blunt comment about abby having a "stick up her ass" makes cassidy erupt into laughter. "yeah, that's—that’s definitely true," she concedes, still giggling, "but there's also… a passion behind it." she pauses before continuing. “It's like she does it out of love or something," her eyes fixed on you.
you let out an amused sigh and roll your eyes, responding with a playful retort, "yeahh, I don't know about that." you can't help but chuckle as you continue, "but, that’s definitely crazy talk." you tease, a hint of mirth in your voice.
cassidy laughs, feigning surrender by holding her hands up in a playful gesture. "hey," she says, a toothy grin plastered on her face, "i know what i'm seeing." she retorts.
you continue to eat, a scoff escaping your lips as you try to dismiss her earlier accusations. "you saw a bunch of nothing.” you remark, keeping your tone nonchalant. cassidy responds with a soft scoff of her own, but the silence that follows is strained, uncomfortable, well at least for you… you think.
your mind drifts back to all the times you've interacted with abby, a strange feeling beginning to grow inside you. there were no signs, no hint of anything more than anger and hatred, right? no itty bitty details so unmissable to others, but you? no, it couldn’t be, that’d be ridiculous, hell, every it'd be a synonym in the book ridiculous! there were never any crossovers besides hatred, a mysterious hatred, but hatred nonetheless. come to think of it, you never really found out why she hated you so goddamn much. was it envy? fear? if so, of what exactly?
whatever the case was, it doesn't matter. because you would fucking pay to see her at your mercy. beneath you with a look of hopelessness glistening in her eyes, for it to be her to struggle to utter a simple explanation, only for you to completely demolish the right of speaking. to watch that stupidly neat braid disheveled and her oh so infuriatingly muscular arms that seemed to taunt you, begging to be popped like a balloon.
yeah… you definitely hated this woman.
SIX MONTHS LATER
front desk - 1:30 pm on a wednesday afternoon
gathering any loose strands of hairs from the nape of your neck with one hand, you create a makeshift ponytail, struggling to keep a straight face as cassidy’s stifled laughter resonates nearby. you playfully chastise her, trying to suppress your own laughter.
“stop laughing,” you admonish, your attempt at a stern tone is undermined by your own stifled giggles. “you’re gonna get us caught!”
as luck would have it, you and cassidy had bonded over an unexpected shared interest— a love for plants. and they say that a mother’s life is over when they have kids. quite literal bullshit if you ask anyone with a brain. cassidy, besides being nature’s supporter, was also incredibly humorous, her wit and humor made work a little more bearable.
over a few rounds of cold beers, she had discovered abby’s mysterious hatred for you. her curiosity knew no bounds, weaving theories on why, but never truly connecting the dots. from that point on, she couldn't resist teasing abby when she erupted into her typical outbursts—episodes she jokingly dubbed "hissy fits." just a few weeks ago, she had been assigned to work the counter beside you after amelia went on maternity leave.
"check this one out," the red-head chimes, tilting her phone towards eyes’s view to reveal a piece of media from abby’s instagram. cassidy, as if being a FBI agent was her second job, didn’t break a sweat looking for abby’s entire life online the moment it was plausible.
now, knowing who to call, you glance to see a photo of the blonde with her usual serious expression. the framing itself is taken from an awkward angle. “she’s so stiff, like a damn statue.” she laughs.
you let your hands fall once successfully securing your hair in a bun, a chuckle escaping your lips. "not a bad-looking statue, though," you remark casually, shrugging your shoulders. a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you added, "maybe she should start a new career as a model. the 'stiff but stunning' look could be all the rage."
cassidy quirks an eyebrow your way, a mischievous gleam in her eye as she teases you, “oh, am i sensing something here?”
you respond with a scoff, hastily denying any such notion with playful push. “god, no!” you exclaim, feigning offense, your laugh mingling with her own.
amidst the laughter, your moment is abruptly interrupted by the overwhelming waft of a potent perfume that assaults your senses. immediately, you recognize the scent and dart your gaze towards its source—abby’s new assistant. wearing a top brazenly too small for her ample cleavage with an extravagant makeup job tailored for a circus clown, it's painfully obvious whom this performance is intended to impress.
fucking ‘asshole’ anderson. It’s a pity really; she’s a decent-looking girl, but a relentless ass-kisser. everyone in the hospital picked up on her antics pretty quickly, constantly trying to win abby’s favor. rumors speculated, suggesting they did more than just work together, but hey, they’re just rumors.
“you should be working, abby wouldn’t like this.” her grating voice rings out, dripping with unwarranted confidence.
“we’re on our break, alexa.” you reply coolly, not bothering to mask the distaste in your expression.
she theatrically glances at her watch and purses her lips, stating smugly, “not anymore.” her gaze flicks to you, a smirk playing at her lips. it takes every ounce of restraint you possess not to grab her by the hair and slam her head against the wall. instead, you listen as she adds, "i should be informing abby about this,” she emphasizes with her hand, going in a circular motion towards you and cassidy before finishing. “but she's requested your presence in her office right now."
you stare at her, bewilderment etched across your face. abby? needing you in her presence? the confusion can’t linger long when she impatiently snaps her fingers.
"chop, chop, she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” she prompts, her tone dripping with condescension.
fucking bitch.
"you said you needed me?" you inquired, poking your head through the door’s open crack.
"yes, shut the door and take a seat." she affirms, witnessing firsthand the intentitive— almost obsessive behavior driven by a need to be perfection itself. her eyes don’t move from the paperwork at hand, but there’s no need for her body language and demeanor is a revelation on its own.
her stoicism matched almost flawlessly, as if they had been meticulously practiced in the mirror—akin to a morning ritual, like a cup of coffee. and her physique? it’s a memoir to resolution, sculpted from the divine hands of a deity, making you wonder: how could a person be so flawless? is she a forsaken angel, once god's favorite, now cast away from grace?
her voice, now with a hint of a crisp clear edge, breaks the silence, stating firmly, "i need to discuss something with you." her arms are now visible, resting on top of her desk, hands neatly folded together, an action that seizes your attention like a magnet. was this beautiful “angel” of a woman merely toying with you, masquerading as a jester with deceptive tricks?
nervously, you lick your dry lips and nod, responding with a strained voice, "yeah?" she picked up on that.
her eyes narrow with curiosity, and she leans forward, her voice laced with suspicion as she queries, “tell me,” she begins, letting the question linger in the air for a moment. “why do you still waste time with cassidy?” her tone carries a note of mild disdain. “she’s a bit.. odd, don’t you think?”
within the span of a moment, a wave of frustration surges through you, compelling you to argue your case. however, you find yourself inexplicably entranced by her features, unable to break the spell that has woven its way around your thoughts. nodding without conscious thought, your gaze is transfixed on the magnificence standing before you— the artistry of her face and form.
the sun's warm glow streams through the windows just behind her, casting a radiant light upon her as if nature itself were emphasizing its own masterpiece. every detail of her appearance is meticulously crafted, like a tempting apple dangling in front of the unsuspecting. a loose strand of hair falls gracefully in front of her face, accentuating the fine features of her facial structure. the angular lines of her nose seem to carry the weight of her sharp-edged spectacles, and her eyes, often lacking warmth, rarely seek solace in anything but themselves.
the sinew, a testament to the muscularity of her arms, even beneath the loose confines of her doctor’s coat, as if they were destined to stand out, to be admired. the way she held her pen moments ago makes it seem almost insignificant in comparison to her thick fingers, wrapped around it like a vice. her penmanship is impeccable, smooth and faultless, as if her hand is a perfectly calibrated machine.
god’s greatest gifts bestowed on its worst creation alive.
"are you even listening to me, right now?" she questions, her jaw setting tight.
startled, you snapped out of your reverie, blinking to moisten the dry eyes that had forgotten to blink in their fixated state, you confirm. “yes.” no.
“i asked you a question.” she snaps, her voice stern.
“what was the question?” you stammer, feeling flustered under her intense scrutiny.
“why—forget it.” a sudden shift in her expression indicates a change of mind. it seems the words didn’t sound as smart when she voiced them aloud.
“what?” you stutter, leaning forward in your chair. “what were you going to say?”
“i said, nevermind,” she replies, her tone firm and dismissive. “you’re free to go.” she averts her gaze from you, redirecting it towards her paperwork, as if you had suddenly become unimportant and unworthy of her attention.
you’re left dumbfounded, what was that about?
FEW HOURS LATER
your bedroom - 3:20 am on a thursday morning
your sharp gasp and the tension in your body were palpable, confined to the bed where your body lay cushioned. a hand ran through your hair before tugging it tightly, adding to the pleasure that coursed through you. the serene hum of your vibrator, nestled between your legs, was a poor substitute for the fantasies that danced through your mind.
your guilty pleasures, your secret desire.
“oh, abby!” you moaned, the broken syllable laced with longing. images of her flashed through your mind, your body yearning for the warmth of her fingers instead of the cold, mechanical pleasure your toy provided. the thought of being stretched by her strong, capable hands was all it took to push you over the edge.
a wave of ecstasy crashed over you, your body shaking as you orgasmed, the fantasy of abby's touch more potent than the reality. the intensity of your pleasure left you breathless, even as you knew it was only a fleeting escape from reality.
as your mind snaps back, an overwhelming rush of realization washes over you. you toss aside the vibrator, sitting up with a sigh. you can’t help, but feel shame towards yourself. the thought of your boss—the one person who makes your life a living hell—occupies your thoughts. how could you even entertain the thought of her?
a fallen angel, huh?
SAID “FALLEN ANGEL”
abby anderson
she was fucking on one today, and in return she thought you were too. her mind was consumed by you. even the morning coffee, always a comfort, tasted bitter and cold. she didn't even acknowledge the usual flirtatious advances from her assistant when she greeted her this morning. instead, she simply asked for her requested files and retreated to the sanctuary of her office, locking the door behind her.
it was always you, stirring up trouble by merely existing near her. cassidy mcclair, that braid-wearing copycat bitch, had you wrapped around her serpentine fingers. and you? you should have known better than to waste your precious time with people like that, but there you were. in fact, compared to these idiots you had to call coworkers, you were leaps and bounds above them.
you were just making a mistake, a mistake that was costing her sleep— more than she already doesn’t get.
she silently fumed as she stood in front of her office door for her daily check on what everyone was doing, over the years making mental lists of the flaws of each employee. amelia, didn’t know if she was bleating or laughing, and those killer front teeth— literally. one glance and someone’s head would be off. then there was samson, who seemed to do nothing, but shove burgers down his gargantuan throat. she was convinced he never even bothered to chew.
it was laughable, and she could go on and on about the flaws each one of her employees had. but you, well, not a single flaw could be attributed to you. not one mentioned on any list of the many she had. in essence, you were the embodiment of a boss's dream employee—quick on the case, a good sport, but until now, there was one flaw that had eluded you: the habits of hanging around the wrong people.
granted, it's not like cassidy was forcing drugs down your throat, but it was clear she was trouble. competition, that had to be eliminated. but one might wonder, why? why did abby have such a deep-seated grudge against you? why did she feel this burning urge to take you down? just like a pack of wolves, having her sights set on the weak link, ready to pounce.
deep down, abby didn't fully understand her intense feelings towards you. each attempt to articulate her emotions only led to frustration as they were often misinterpreted in the delivery. you made her nervous in a way that was both understandable and utterly perplexing, leaving her with feelings uncharted. in a desperate attempt to maintain control, she decided the best course of action was to keep her fondness for you hidden. surely, as long as you remained oblivious to her affections, there would be no complications, right?
she’d pledge that promise to the death, do everything to her power to keep it this way. there would be no vulnerability, no broken hearts to be on the mend, even if meant being cruel. but when cassidy came and first laid her eyes on you. oh, how she wanted to claw her eyes out just for even staring at you for a millisecond long.
it infuriated her to see how easily cassidy could evoke laughter and smiles from you, things that abby denied herself. many long, self deprecating nights filled with overflowing ashtrays of spent cigarettes and a collection of empty whiskey glasses were becoming too often to be called a casual drinker.
the day she requested your presence in her office, and sat across from her as she filled out the paperwork to transfer cassidy to another floor was a moment of triumph. however, her satisfaction evaporated rather quickly—leaving her dry to the bone. throughout the entire conversation, you appeared to be dazed, barely registering a word she spoke. had she been too late? were you already so smitten with cassidy that you couldn't even comprehend a word coming out of her mouth?
was it already too late?
after you had left her office, abby found herself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. alone with her musings, her mind raced, and suddenly, all her thoughts aligned. if the two of you were indeed in a relationship, as it seemed so obvious, then separating the two of you would create an irreversible ripple effect. like two peas in a pod, together you were a force to be reckoned with, but tearing one away and crushing it would change everything.
if cassidy wanted to stoop low, she could go lower.
ANDERSON’S ESTATE
4:54 am on a sunday morning
due to the convoluted approval process, the transfer paperwork would likely take weeks, if not months, to be approved. there was no way abby could allow that to happen. by the time the transfer was accepted, you'd be off in dubai for a honeymoon with your apparent soulmate, sipping margaritas without a care in the world. no, she had to find a way to expedite the process, and it had to be done by the end of this overcoming week.
so she found herself in her office, nursing a few glasses of whiskey and indulging in chain-smoking cigarettes, a habit she could never partake in one without the other. surrounded by the solace of her private liar, the alcohol and nicotine fueled her thoughts, as she brainstormed list after list of ways to get rid of cassidy. patient abandonment was one option, but it ran the risk of tarnishing her own reputation as well. however, she was past the point of caring about the repercussions of her actions. all that mattered was taking down cassidy, one way or another.
feeling a mixture of an uncomfortable unfulfillment and disoriented, she runs a hand through her tousled mane. with a groan, rubs her eyes and gets up, smoldering the glowing embers of the cigarette in the overflowing ashtray before trudging off to bed like a pouting toddler.
In the comforts of her bed, shafts of dawn gently seeped through the curtains, with her loyal puppy, alice, sleeping at her feet, whining occasionally as she glanced up at her owner. abby couldn't help but wonder if the dog was attempting to communicate with her, as if offering a cautionary message. was it the effects of the whiskey and cigarettes playing tricks on her mind, or was her canine companion genuinely trying to warn her of impending consequences? these thoughts swirled through her muddled mind, yet the idea of it actually seemed far-fetched.
it’s a thing to think of, and another to do.
ONE DAY, MONDAY
cheshire cat grin
“and i want you all to be more aware— if you haven’t been already.” the firm voice snapped abby out of her reverie.
a weary sigh emits as her body slumps into a loose crescent shape, the strain of sitting in an ass-numbing chair for hours was finally taking its toll, and listening to her supervisor drone on and on about the same old report on employee performance wasn’t helping either. however, one particular statement caught her undivided attention.
the rise in unauthorized narcotics.
the report revealed that there had been a 3% increase in the number of supplies used compared to the usual amount. this increase caused considerable stress for the superior, who advised—no, demanded that all doctors on each floor find the culprit.
with mounting irritation from the current predicament, the overseer noticed abby’s expression and prompted her with a question. “is there anything you’d like to say, abigail?” she inquired, presumptuously.
as the superior fixed a firm gaze on her, abby’s initial instinct was to reply with a simple “no.” but then a new thought took hold. she sat up straighter, straightening her normally confident demeanor even further, and responded with a question of her own. “hypothetically speaking, if i do uncover the perpetrator, what measures will be taken in response?”
the woman’s scoff conveyed a dismissive tone, as if the answer was lingering in the air. she smugly responded, “well, hypothetically, they’d be fired on the spot, and all hospitals in the county would be notified never to employ them again.” there was a brief pause before continuing with that same overly confident demeanor, “so, they’d have to move just to find another job.” eyeing abby as if searching for even the slightest hint of nervousness.
under normal circumstances, abby’s temper would have flared at her superior’s condescending tone, but in that moment, everything was perfect. a polite smile abby offered held more than the naked eye could see.
the jigsaw pieces were falling into place.
TWO DAYS LATER, WEDNESDAY
surprise!
the days melded together, each one weighed down by a stack of endless papers and an incessant, desperate assistant who was over her shoulder, relentlessly nagged for her attention. in those moments of exhaustion, she started regretting ever giving them the slightest bit of her attention in the first place, justifying the brief lapses in her focus as mere 'moments of weakness'.
in obeying her supervisor's advice, she had been carefully observing everyone, with a heightened level of scrutiny directed towards cassidy, intentionally growing increasingly “suspicious” of her. with a fierce determination, she wrestled hard to suppress the many outbursts that threatened to spill over simply due to the sight of you and cassidy together.
even as a child, abby had a knack for fixating on unimportant details, down to the intricate nuances of color. her attention to detail had grown into a deep obsession, enabling her to familiarize herself with an object or being within days. with cassidy, she had approached it like disassembling a game of jenga, meticulously analyzing her every action, carefully calculating her plans. all she needed now was the opportune moment to set everything into motion.
just as she was about to execute her plan, a sudden, unexpected event occurred, as if on cue.
with newfound courage bolstered by a glass of whiskey and a cigarette, she rose from her chair, only for the shrill ring of her phone to pierce the tense atmosphere, and she glanced down to see a rarely-seen name on the screen— her grandmother, susana. an unyielding, meticulous woman, had been a source of inspiration for abby as she grew up, shaping her into the determined individual she had become.
susana, was a renowned fashion designer based in paris, a demanding professional life that had left her with limited time to spend with her beloved granddaughter. with a huff, sitting back in her office chair, abby picked up her phone and pressed it against her ear, preparing for their conversation.
"oh, my darling abigail!" the sound of her grandmother's sweet, melodic voice filled abby's ear.
a subtle wince crossed her face, and a forced smile tugs at her lips, almost as if her grandmother could see her through the phone.
"hi.” she responded, prompting her grandmother to lightheartedly tease, "oh, darling, why so timid?" her chuckle echoed over the line.
abby responded with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "sorry, gam-gam, I'm just a bit stressed." she confessed.
her grandmother replied with a lighthearted hum. “well, in that case, meet me at the cafe down the street for a little whine down.” and with a click, the line went dead, leaving abby scarcely a moment to protest.
with a heavy sigh, she tossed her phone aside, muttering, "damnit." frustrated, she ran a hand over her face.
in the reserved confines of their booth, her grandmother inquired with a casual tone, "so, did you receive my letter?" she pierced a strawberry with her fork, taking a bite.
abby responded with a nod, her thoughts momentarily astray to the brief moment earlier when she'd seized the opportunity to execute her plan on cassidy's unattended bag during your lunchtime in the break room. she knew such an opportunity might not present itself again anytime soon, as cassidy was set to be away until friday.
“and the book?”
abby paused, strawberry mid-air on her fork, perplexed by her grandmother's question. "what book?" she questioned with a full mouth, confusion lacing her voice.
her grandmother sighs, explaining, "the book didn't arrive?" she grumbled about the subpar mailing service. "doesn’t matter," she continued, "we can just head over to the bookstore after and replace it." her interest piqued as her grandmother added that it was another mythology book, a favorite topic of hers.
abby's eyes sparkled with excitement. "awe, sweet! i’ve been meaning to go." she responded enthusiastically.
the older woman chuckled, observing, "old habits die hard, I suppose." she then posed a question that seemed to ignite her interest even more. "tell me, have you managed to swoon any girls with your extensive library of knowledge?" her grandmother's smile grew wider at this question, her genuine wish for abby's happiness evident. how could abby possibly ruin her grandmother's happiness?
abby wasn't one to lie, but she felt compelled to do so, especially since the truth was more difficult to share. a gentle smile tugged at her lips, and a blush appeared on her face as she played with the blueberry on her plate. though it was a lie, it was an effortless one. "well, there's this one girl at work," she began, her voice growing more softer. "she’s incredibly sweet, and I think she likes me." the rosiness in her cheeks deepened, adding a touch of authenticity to her fib.
“awe, sugarplum, who is it?”
“her name is y/n.”
ANOTHER TWO DAYS LATER, FRIDAY
the final act
after two days of being completely immersed in the book, abby managed to force herself back to reality. cassidy had reappeared, prompting abby to resume her daily observations. she diligently watched over you and cassidy, particularly monitoring the red-head’s interactions.
she had arranged a private conversation with the supervisor, raising concerns about “suspicious” behavior involving cassidy. the supervisor guaranteed action before six pm that afternoon. all she needed to do now was secure her bag alone before then. abby set an alarm on her watch, stashed the narcotics in her pocket, and exited her office, determined to carry out her plan.
she closed her door and was immediately greeted by the familiar sounds of chatter and movement, the distinctive scent of the hospital filling her nose. as she inhaled, it was as if she was breathing in the purest air. but then, the explosive sound of a voice abruptly shattered her moment of comfort. she jumped in surprise and turned her head to see a nurse.
"sorry, doctor," she apologized, her smile tinged with nervousness. "i—uhm, have documents for you to sign for a discharge." she extended the clipboard, waiting for abby to take it.
still feeling discombobulated, abby nodded stiffly as she accepted the clipboard and signed it. “are… are you okay?” the nurse's question caught her off guard, prompting her to look up. "yes—yes, I'm fine.” she replied, her voice somewhat strained.
saying a brief goodbye, she walks down the hallway, and sees cassidy getting dressed in the staff room. abby smirks, and walks inside just as she’s gonna leave. the initial door opening scares, making her jump back, and she sees it’s abby, she greets her with a smile, and quick hi, trying to exit. but abby isnt gonna let her leave so quick.
abby says a brief farewell and proceeds down the hallway, catching sight of cassidy dressing up in the staff room. she stops with a grinch-like grin saunters into the room just as cassidy is about to exit. the sudden door opening startles cassidy, making her jump back. she quickly greets abby with a smile and a casual "hi," attempting to leave. however, abby is determined not to let her go that easily.
"hey, wait." abby halts cassidy in her tracks with a firm arm grab, causing her to stop.
cassidy looks up, bewildered, and clutches her bag close to her shoulder, waiting to see what this was about. abby’s eyebrows furrowed, it’s been truly a long time since she stood by her self-proclaimed enemy. she didn't seem to have changed much— not that she cared to notice, except for the new pin on her shirt— a small pride flag, cute.
abby scoffs, chuckling which prompts cassidy to raise an eyebrow. “what’s so funny?”
in response, she shakes her head dismissively, replying with a hint of mischief, "nothing, just a joke i remembered." adding slyly with a cunning smile, she continues, "how do you like working here?"
cassidy swallows, her nerves becoming visibly apparent as she nods in agreement. "it’s good," she reiterates, adding, "yeah, i love working with the children."
abby hums in response, laughing. "well, don't let me stop you." she promptly opens the door for cassidy, eliciting a smile from her in response, and as she begins to pass through, the taller blonde adds. “enjoy it while it lasts.”
as she watched cassidy leave with her bag in hand, abby's emotions were divided. she felt a sense of sheer satisfaction, empowerment, her lips twisting into a muscle straining grin as she watched the bag recede into the distance, carrying her ticket goodbye. and she didn’t feel an ounce of regret because she did warn her. to enjoy it all, her time at the hospital to its fullest, and she meant it. true to her nature, abby prided herself on consistency, even more so in her efficiency, like a stealthy ninja.
in and out, no flaws, no witnesses.
no window for the light to shine through.
THE LIGHT
cascading over your form was from the now straining lamp above. your head ached, overwhelmed by the events of the day. but one interaction stood out as particularly odd— an event you didn't take part in, rather witness instead.
it seemed under every blue moon that cassidy and abby would interact, despite working on the same floor. there were no crossovers, so when a hand broke that line. there was something unsettling about the whole interaction, especially the invader's body language. her movements were mechanical, unnatural even, making it all hard to ignore.
a chill runs down your spine as you consider the implications. you know what you witnessed, but it feels almost unbelievable. just as with notorious serial killers, you struggle to comprehend the thought processes behind such heinous acts. perhaps this lunatic in particular requires her own account to explain her motives and actions.
you arrived at just the right moment, only a few seconds before their conversation ended. fortunately, you had come in time to witness abby casually slipping something into cassidy's bag while she was turning away. the object had a distinct pill bottle shape, subtle enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention, but enough to pique your interest.
the rumors of stolen narcotics had been circulating, and a mysterious culprit was being gossiped about behind closed doors. you and cassidy had spent some time discussing the topic, sharing silly theories, though nothing more than just pure hearsay.
your eyebrows furrow in thought, though it wasn't helping. instead, only intensified the now throbbing headache, slowly morphing into a full-blown migraine. with your hands holding your head up, you look down at long forgotten paperwork that was meant to be done from the comforts of your own home, but considering the distressing state you’re in. it was far from comforting now.
with a frustrated sigh, you flick off the lamp and abandon your paperwork, ready to rise from your desk. suddenly, your phone rings, jolting you with a spike in heart rate. you glance down at the caller ID.
you immediately answer the call, only to be met with cassidy's hysterical voice. through her sobs and gasps, she reveals that she was fired due to stealing narcotics. your worst fears were confirmed; it was no longer just a mere theory. you had indeed witnessed abby slipping something that resembled a small pill bottle into cassidy’s bag.
as you try to console your friend, a whirlwind of emotions begins to roil within you. some of that emotion directed towards yourself, but strongly towards abby. it was true, you saw it with your very own eyes, and yet chose to wait. you hated the fact that it took you so long to come to your senses, and a wave of guilt consumes you for not marching straight to the supervisor moments after witnessing it.
even if it was too late for your friend, it wasn’t for abby.
the lobby, now shrouded in dimmed lighting with very few sources of illumination, seemed like something straight out of a horror movie. paying no mind to the eerie ambiance, you quickly make your way towards abby’s office door, knowing she typically uses this time to prepare the employee’s schedules. the reasoning behind why she does it in her office is unknown, but frankly, not your biggest concern.
your knuckles collide forcefully against the wood, channeling the full extent of your anger’s strength. the door swings open, revealing a slightly taken aback abby. she utters, “what—what are you doing here?” her tone seems somewhat off.
you don’t waste any time, no words, and cut straight to the chase. “what did you do to cassidy?”
she raises an eyebrow in confusion, responding, “what are you talking about? are you on something, y/n?”
without hesitating, you push past her into her office. turning your head at neck breaking speed to set your hardened gaze onto hers. your voice takes on a more firm tone: “am i? are you?!”
you repeat your question with unwavering determination. “what did you do to cassidy?”
with a scoff, she crosses her arms, feigning innocence. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” she denies.
“oh, don’t play dumb,” you retort, your gaze unwavering. “you know exactly what i’m talking about! tell me, what was it that you threw into her bag?”
she nervously swallows, her composure faltering for just a moment before she regains control. this reaction was all you needed to confirm your suspicions.
"that’s confidential.” she repeats assertively, making her way behind her desk.
"confidential, my ass!" you yell in response. "i know damn well what i saw!"
she stops in her tracks and turns her head to face you, a look of indignation on her face. “what did you just say to me?”
ignoring her interruption, you push on, demanding answers. “what did you do to her? what did you say?!” your fist clenched tightly.
for the first time, she drops her facade, maintaining eye contact without hesitation, as she admits. “i gave her a little parting gift.”
the intensity in her eyes makes your blood run cold, trying to gather a sense of what her cryptic response implies. you stammer. “what—what does that even mean?”
she suddenly realizes the gravity of her confession—how she inadvertently revealed her actions, but anger clouds her morality. "just drop it.” she grits out through clenched teeth, patience wearing thin.
the fire in your eyes flares up, brimming with anger and defiance that refuses to let you back down. "no!" you firmly retort. "you’re going to tell me!" frustration seeps through your voice as your patience wanes. you’re tired of her smug superiority, the audacity to act as if she had everyone under her command.
her lips curl into a smirk, her voice oozing with sarcastic scorn. “oh, i’m gonna tell you?” she taunts, scoffing. “tell you what? about your little friend?” her tone carries undertones of something against your mere friendship with cassidy.
the mention of something more regarding your friend sends a pang of defensiveness coursing through you.
"what?" you breathe out, taken aback. "what does that even mean, huh?"
she takes a step forward, each breath heavy and labored. her voice betrays her impatient nature, a predator preparing to pounce. “oh, you know what that means,” she retorts, scoffing internally at how dull you’re being to an obvious situation. despite the tension in the room reaching a high, it’s abby’s intensity that seizes the moment. you half expected to see her licking her lips with anticipated hunger, like a ravenous beast.
it sends a rush of conflicting emotions coursing through you—an alluring mixture of curiosity and trepidation. the encounter itself feels like a high-stakes game of chess where you struggle to predict your opponent's next move. as you step back, your confidence falters, and your voice softens into a small whimper.
“i don’t...”
abby catches onto this, pouncing on it like a hungry lion sensing weakness, further igniting her motives.
you gasp as your back meets the cool, solid wood behind you. in an instinctive movement, your eyes flick briefly behind you before darting back forward. only to find abby’s overbearing presence suffocating your personal space.
"oh, i think you do." she rasps, tilting her head to the side, a chuckle escaping her lips. her faltering gaze lingering to your lips for a fleeting moment before pulling away. her tone seethes with anger, words biting as she scoffs.
“you think you’re so damn slick, huh?” she paces back and forth, a fierce intensity in her stride, causing you to wince in response.
“you act like i wouldn’t catch on to your little games, as if it wasn’t painfully transparent to everyone around you!” her frustration builds, and she raises her arms, unleashing a frustrated sigh before bringing them down forcefully to slap her thighs. "as if i wouldn’t notice!”
you couldn't understand where this anger was coming from. sure, she had always been an asshole, but lately, her outbursts and irritability have seemed to reach a new assholery. and it seemed to have started around the same time you had become friends with cassidy. It was almost as if your newfound friendship had awakened something within her, something darker and more volatile. perhaps jealousy?
abby’s anger blazes brightly in her eyes, her words sharp. "god, you’re infuriating," she says, her voice laced with hostility. "like some fucking prodigy, you think you know everything, don’t you?!" she emphasizes with lurching her body forward, her hands slamming down on the desk either side of you, effectively trapping you in place.
your breath hitches as she draws nearer, her proximity sending an intoxicating wave throughout your body. the intensity of her anger is palpable, every labored breath brushing against your skin like a gentle caress. her lips are tantalizingly close to yours, separated by an annoying invisible barrier that could be shattered at any moment if she so desired. just one push.
"fuck you, abby!" you hiss, your voice faltering for a moment before hardening. "you always had a goddamn bone to pick with me, you piece of shit!" your words linger in the air, carrying years of built-up resentment directed at abby. but the shock of her unexpected confession wipes away your outrage, replacing it with astonishment.
"because i love you!" she yells, her voice ringing out louder than intended. her revelation hangs in the air, rendering you speechless. as those words sink in, your breath catches in your throat. "what?" you manage to croak out, hardly believing what you've just heard.
you observed a flicker of vulnerability in her expression that's quickly replaced by a hardened composure. there was no turning back, the cat was out of the bag, and so she only pressed forward with determination.
her voice descending to a low, sultry tone, she says "you think watching what's mine prancing around like a slut at her own workplace doesn't make me livid?" each word drips with possessive anger and suppressed desire.
your voice comes out smaller and fragile than anticipated as you muster the words, "i’m… i’m not yours." you struggle to meet abby's intense gaze, your body tensing subconsciously as you push yourself against her desk, attempting to create some space between the two of you. the air is thick with tension, the room practically vibrating with the weight of abby’s confession and your denial. you felt trapped, your body practically molding into the desk behind you.
"do you believe that?" she inquires, raising a brow in challenge. she lifts a thumb to slide across your bottom lip, her touch firm yet almost teasing. she pauses for a moment before letting out a gravelly chuckle, further probing into the tension. “i don’t.” she admits with a light shrug. her movements felt taunting, yet calculated as if she’s trying to catch you in a lie, and to fess up.
abby was frustrated, bordering on infuriated, trying to make sense of the situation. her mind was a tangle of emotions, and she felt like she was grasping at straws, trying to connect the pieces in her head. she had the mental board laid out in her mind, each string connecting to a different thought, all pointing to one central question: you and cassidy, and the enigma of your poorly hidden relationship. this uncertainty fueled her anger, and you weren’t making it any better. she wanted to do something— anything— to show you that you weren't just anyone's; you were hers.
"what about alexa, huh?" you ask, gaining a peak of confidence, your words snapping her attention back.
“what about her?” she questions truthfully, amused by your presumed jealousy. “you jealous?"
caught off guard and exposed, you feel the equilibrium shift, upending the chess pieces in your mind. "i’m not jealous," you insist, realizing the power her words hold. it’s as if she has cornered you in this game, check. mate.
“oh, sure you aren’t." abby steps closer, her body pressing against yours, trapping you between her and the desk. her words take on a dual edge of ire and yearning as she smirks. "i should’ve known with the way you’ve been acting, you’re practically begging me to put you in your place.” she murmurs, chuckling gravely. "to fuck you until you can only say yes, doctor anderson." she feigns a high pitch moany tone, a lewd and terrible, yet obvious admit of sounding like you as she says “yes, doctor anderson.”
she laughs before humming, seeming to enjoy that fantasy as she lets herself become lost in the idea for a moment before continuing.
abby’s features lean in closer, the heat from her breath caressing the apple of your cheek as she murmurs against your ear, “tell me, do you let cassidy make you her personal pocket pussy?” her words send a shiver down your spine as her hand moves to caress your cheek, pausing to let you feel the weight of her question in the air before inquiring further, “to bend you over anywhere, anytime, and you’ll just take it like a good girl?” her words laced with a lewdness that sends a thrill through your body, despite the fact that you know you should reject the notion. the question itself was filthy, taboo, and utterly intoxicating. but you couldn’t deny the existence of being drawn to it, deep down knowing more than ever if you ever were to think of that fantasy, you’d want it to be her, not cassidy.
“no, no, it’s not like that.” you attempt to defend yourself, trying to find the right words, but abby interjects before you can say anything else. she scoffs at your attempted denial, her grip on you tightening, causing you to wince. her voice lowers into a dark laugh, her disbelief evident. "oh really? you really expect me to believe that bullshit?"
her name escapes your lips in a gasp, but abby cuts you off yet again, her eyes darkening as she speaks.
"lemme tell you what it's like," she begins, her tone husky. “i think you'd like it. hell, you pray that it does happen because you're nothing but just a pathetic girl who wants some attention. is that what you want? attention?" abby inquires, licking her teeth in an almost predatory manner. your heart races in your chest as her words cut through you.
the tension in the room is palpable, thick with unexpressed desire and emotion. you find yourself unable to hold back any longer, your voice quivering as you voice your deep-seated need. “i want your attention," you confess, your words almost inaudible, they're so faint.
even if faint, she heard all of it, dissected each syllable. it’s all she ever wanted, no, needed to hear from you. “yeah?” her voice falters into a soft whimper, tilting her head to the side and grabbing your cheeks with her large hands, only now focusing on your lips. “i’ll give you all my attention.” she promises, swiftly pulling your face, smashing yours onto hers.
your body trembled from the conflicting sensations, a clash of cold and hot, a maelstrom of warring emotions. years without her touch had left you craving her embrace, and her lips on yours sent heat coursing through your veins. though the kiss stood unspoken, there was no need for actions that spoke louder. both hatred and desire intertwined, two sides of the same coin, fueling this volatile gesture. your hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and contour, as hers did the same, desperately pulling you closer, kneading your flesh like clay. your hands finally found a resting place on her shoulders, gripping her like a lifeline in the storm of sensations swirling around you.
your movements, your gasps and sighs, fueled the fire within abby, and with a determined strength, she hoists you up onto her desk. the sudden change in position elicits gasp from you, pressing your body against hers with an arch, and abby seizes the moment, slipping her tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth with a fervent passion. it was a dance both familiar and new, a moment of fiery connection that consumed you both.
her breath ragged, lips tingling from the passion of the kiss as stares down at you, her eyes dark and filled with hunger as she murmurs her confession. "i've always dreamt of this… having you," her fingers roaming over your body slowly as she says this, relishing in the way you react to her touch. she presses her forehead shading yours, her dilated eyes reflecting the depth of her desire. her cold thumbs find their way underneath your clothes, tracing slow circles, sending a shiver through your body. "having this feeling of your skin under my fingertips."
your voice quivered as you call her name, and for a moment you think your plea to have her lips on yours again are answered, but instead, she finds her new focus, your neck. her lips fall, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites. the sound of your whimpers only spurred her on, her hands gripping your hips possessively as she continued to mark your skin, leaving a trail of hickeys.
abby was in her element now, and your desperate tone only fed her desire. she wanted more, to hear you call her name even more. with a smirk, she lifted her head, eyes burning with amusement. "yeah? you like the sound of that, pretty girl?" she muses, her hand suddenly landing a sharp smack on your thigh, making you jump. in response, she chuckled at your reaction, her laugh sent tingles down your spine, a mixture of amusement and desire. her grip on your thighs tightened, pushing them higher up, and drinking up the sight of you, spread before her with your feet on the desk sent abby's desire spiraling out of control. she couldn't help but lick her lips, taking in the full view of your flushed skin and parted legs. you couldn't hold back a squirm, feeling so exposed— though you weren’t — under her intense gaze.
"i love seeing you like this," she murmured, her voice thick with arousal. she steps towards you again, nestling herself in the newfound space. her lips return to your neck, greeting the previous bruises plastered on your neck with soft licks and kisses. "so desperate and needy."
her hands leave your thighs as she lifts herself up to meet your gaze, taking in your already disheveled state. with a hum of satisfaction, she asks, "who gets you like this?"
you manage to respond with a barely audible, "you, abby." she hums at your whimperish respond, a smirk crossing her lips at the confirmation, "yes, not that bitch, cassidy. me. and only me, right, baby?" she gives a slight nod, as if she’s responding for you.
the blonde brings her hand up to your lips, watching as you open your mouth to invite her thumb, which she eagerly accepts.
she let out a low, guttural groan as you suck and lick her pad of her thumb, enjoying the sensations that your mouth causes. she couldn't resist the urge to voice her thoughts, her words thick with possession and desire.
"hm, such a dirty girl." she paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, before amending her statement with a husky tone, "my dirty girl."
you release her thumb with a pop, humming a tone of satisfaction, and licking your lips to savor the lingering taste of her. a chuckle escapes abby's lips as she watches you, her eyes roaming your body yet again. the desire to rip your clothes off and shut you up has been building since the moment you walked into her office, "take this off, baby. you’re killing me with not showing me what's mine," she growls, her words tinged with need and possess. "need to see it, feel it. need." she mumbled against your skin, completely submitted to her delusions. you don’t fight this time, barely able to remove each article of clothing with abby eagerly kissing and licking every available inch of skin. but stops at your bikini line, encountering a setback— your underwear — cockblocking her.
her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, looking up at you with an almost comical expression of frustration, and offense. as if being unable to take off your underwear because of her was a you problem. “funny.” she retorts, tone dripping in sarcasm, but nothing on her face shows amusement. “real fucking funny.” she remarks, punctuating her words with a sharp smack to your hip, kneading at the red skin roughly, making you wince. “you fucking tease.” she continues, her voice laced with a mix of desire and irritation.
"i should punish you for that little stunt," her fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear, intending to pull them down herself since you’re incompetent to do so. “but, fuck, look at all this.” she relents, sliding them off your legs— and pocketing them for later — to reveal your core, practically weeping for her. “all this f’me?” she pants, eyes flicking up to yours.
a whiny moan of her name slips past your lips, but she shushes you gently, her voice softer now. "i know, baby, i know." she cooed, her large hand running comfortingly up and down your side. as she spreads your quivering legs further, exposing your drenched folds, abby feasts her eyes upon the sight before her. her lips curve upward, "fuck," she breathed, her eyes never leaving your pulsing core. “look at this pretty pussy. this is prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen—this has to be mine.” she leans down, her warm breath ghosting over your clit before she pressing a tender kiss there, savoring your reaction to her smallest touch, and now wondering what other reactions she could get out of you.
you weren't prepared for what came next, not one bit. expecting her to take things slow, you were completely caught off guard as abby gripped your thighs and, in one swift motion, separated your slimy folds, lapping any sweet nectar waiting for her. you tense from sudden sensation, letting out a loud, unapologetic moan as you arch off the desk. your hands instinctively tangle themselves into her steady braid that soon unravels from being used as reins.
encouraged by your fervent response, abby delved deeper, her skilled tongue tracing a path to your engorged nub. enclosing it between her lips, she whispered her praise, "you taste better than i thought." her voice trembled, mingling with your own moans.
as her teeth gently nipped at your sensitive bundle, you cried out, your thighs involuntarily squeezing her shoulders. a wicked smirk graced her lips as she basked in your reaction, taking immense pleasure in your submission.
the unexpected pinch sent jolts of shock through your body, your limbs twitching and writhing in a frenzied dance. in response, abby repositions her left hand on your abdomen, gripping tightly to anchor you in place. each sound that escaped your trembling lips fueled her hunger, her throaty hums resonating against your flesh. with a devilish gleam in her eyes, she teasingly traced circles near your navel with her thumb, heightening your anticipation.
a groan rumbled in her throat when your fingers gripped her hair, the sensation only spurring her on. her mouth fastened more insistently around your swollen nub, sucking harder as you cried out her name. the strain in your voice confirmed her suspicions: you were on the cusp of your release, and she was eager to push you over.
abby's fingers joined the fray, sliding in and out of your slick folds with practiced ease. her relentless assault on your clit continued, her touch sending shivers through your body and causing your breaths to come in ragged gasps. the sight of you, quivering and exposed before her, stoked a fire within her, a determination to send you flying over the edge.
abby derived an addiction from your pleasure. each moment of ecstasy seemed to fuel her further, driving her to amplify the tempo and depth of her ministrations. as the room filled with the lewd symphony of flesh meeting flesh and intertwined heavy breaths, something stirred within abby. something unfamiliar, uncharted. normally, she would exhibit unrivaled confidence during intimate encounters, but with you, it was different—more intense, deeper. a desperate craving to be perfect, to ensure you'd never seek anyone else but her. she’d hate to admit it, but the realization gnaws at her: the longing for you even after this is over.
"who's making you cum tonight?" abby questioned the obvious once more, but her arrogance tone underlined the strong need for reassurance. your moans were her only response, and while she adored the sweet sounds, she craved more. a sudden shift in her fingers’ movements made you yell out, "you, abby," your words punctuated by cries of pleasure.
her fingers, now confined within your tight grip, sensed the growing tension, the impending eruption, the imminent of your orgasm. "uh-huh, come for me," she ordered, "let me hear who’s making a mess of you."
the warnings of your impending release came with fervor, each thrust hastening to the inevitable snap of the tightening band in your abdomen. then when it did, a cry rang out, loud and clear, as her name left your lips in tandem with your essence painting her features. in this haze of euphoria, you suddenly find a sense of clarity, wondering how in all worlds did you end up in this situation, in the arms— or rather the mouth of your boss?
it’s rather short lived, quickly fading into a hazy blur. you threw your head back as her eyes closed, savoring the taste of your ecstasy with a hum, helping you through your orgasm until your body laxs.
withdrawing her fingers, abby admired the sight of your juices clinging to them, a testament to her efforts. a satisfied smile stretches across her face as she reveled in the knowledge that she had brought you to such heights.
she licks them clean, feeling a rush of gratification that only you can provide. releasing her fingers with a soft pop, her lips make way and pave along the curve of your hip, leaving a trail of wet, sticky kisses behind as she moves up to stand before you. “such a good girl..” she mumbled against your skin. you lift yourself up with your elbow, taking a moment to catch your breath, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasm that has left you momentarily speechless. you couldn't help, but notice abby’s disheveled appearance as well. untangled, her hair strays from its famed braid, now flowing around her face like a cascade of waves.
but before you could comment on the sight, she claims your lips in a tender, sweet kiss, her hands cupping your face. the connection was brief, and when she pulled away, a grin lit up her features. without another word spoken, she unclothes herself, revealing herself in all her glory. you knew she worked out, but goddamn, did she work out! the determination to achieve the physique showed immensely. in your admiration, you felt the apple of your cheeks warm up, causing you to look away.
"don’t go shy on me, babe," she chided playfully, repositioning your face to meet hers. she seals the deal with another kiss pushing you down gently onto the desk. "lay back f’me, ‘kay?"
with a nod, you comply, watching as the corded muscles in her arms flex as she moves into position, lifting your leg. a grin tugged at the corners of your lips as she placed a tender kiss on your ankle, making her soft chuckle fill the air in return before she securely set your leg on her shoulder.
the moment your wet folds connected, a guttural moan escaped her lips. the sensation was everything she craved, wasting no time in starting a vigorous grinding motion. as she ruts back and forth, she can’t help but mutter curses under her breath, lost in her own pleasure. "fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good." she hisses, throwing her head back. the raw intensity of her emotions written clear as day on her features.
her concentration nearly falters when she glances down, and the sight that met her eyes threatened to make her cum on the spot. the image of your hair spread out across the desk, your bouncing breasts with every upthrust combined with the feeling of your warmth against hers drove her to near insanity.
abby swore she had to be on the edge of a near-death experience, or some type of dejà vu as she gazed upon you in awe, swearing that you resembled a goddess straight out of a mythology book she had once read. though the memory of the goddess’s name was just out of reach, abby couldn't shake the feeling that she had personally seen a painting she once visited come to life in front of her very own eyes.
your hair, freed from its usual up do, was now cascading around your head and spilling off the edge of the desk like an ebony waterfall. your body, unrestrained, was a breathtaking display of femininity. each heaving breath caused your breasts to sway gently, your nipples hardened in anticipation. the way your skin glistened with a thin film of sweat only added to the captivating tableau.
in that moment, abby could almost imagine you as a divine muse from an ancient myth, a vision of beauty and desire. if she didn't snap herself back to reality, the mere sight might have been enough to send her hurtling toward an orgasm. but she had other plans, and she was determined to make them happen.
without warning, abby leaned down, her left hand resting beside your head to brace herself. as her mouth wrapped over one of your taut nipples, her tongue danced over the sensitive bud. simultaneously, her free hand kneaded your other breast, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. your hips bucked involuntarily, meeting her thrusts, and for a moment, it stuttered her pace, a low moan escaping her lips.
"fuck—baby, don't—don't do that," she pleads, filthy groans slipping pass her lips as her hand slides down to your hip, holding you firmly in place as her engorged clit pulsated with building intensity. she was determined to make you cum before she did.
your whispered invocation of her name caused her to glance up at your flushed, disheveled appearance. the sight was a temptation she couldn't resist, and crashed her lips against yours, the feverish kiss mirroring the urgency of your coupling. the closeness and ferocity of both embraces unconsciously synced your movements, hips rocking in unison.
"fuck! abby, i’m gonna cum, please!" your gasps grew heavier and staccato, your forehead pressing against hers as her pace quickened, breaths entwining. normally, abby would step in and reprimand her employees for behaving too freely when seemingly having too much fun. however, in this moment, she actively encourages it, the atmosphere brimming with an intense hunger for it.
"i know, baby, i know." abby's hand found your cheek, stroking it soothingly as if trying to appease your mind to allow what’s inevitable. "cum for me—cum with me," she pants, her pace faltering as she reached her zenith. her arms enveloped you, her hair acting as a curtain around the two of you. guiding you through your release, the slick of your shared pleasure coated your entwined bodies.
once over, abby’s rhythm ceased, and she collapsed on top of you, utterly spent. the weight of the night's passionate encounters bore down, leaving the two of you entwined in the afterglow.
in the act of catching your breaths, it gave abby post-nut clarity. her cheeks reddened, overwhelmed with shame for her past behavior, guilt gnawing at her insides as she realized how much of an ass she had been. it makes her get up, promptly making you sit up, confused.
with a shaky breath, she pushed her hair behind her ear, an expression that was nothing like her usual confident self. "look," she began hesitantly, her voice strained as she struggled to find the right words. unable to meet your gaze, she continued, "i’m sorry for everything. i've been having these feelings, feelings i-i don't even know how to process about you, but i... just wanted to say that i'm sorry for being such an asshole. it was pathetic."
finally, she looked at you, her lips laced in a pout. her confession took you by surprise, leaving you speechless. it was a side of abby you never saw, apologetic.
“asshole is an understatement.” you finally say, laughing softly, an attempt to alleviate the tension in the air, yet it brought no amusement to the receiver. with a quick gulp to clear your throat, you question, “what kind of feelings?” tilting your head to one side.
abby's mouth forms into a tight smile at your lighthearted comment. "they're romantic feelings," she confessed, taking a step forward. she knew the likelihood of your response, but nonetheless continued. "i wasn't lying when i said 'i love you’… but if you don't—" she let out a shaky exhale, the next words stinging. "I'll understand."
unable to suppress an oncoming smile, you take the sight of the usually tough-as-nails abby anderson, now a softie. taking for a moment before responding with a soft voice that leaves abby confused, "you look pretty like this.”
"what?"
"yeah, you should wear your hair down when we go on a date."
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The Sunwalker's Gift
Synopsis: Legends say those who were cursed to live in the shadows are not lost. There is a ring, a ring of incredible power that allows its vampiric wearer to walk in the sun once more. If there is one thing you know, it is that Astarion—your partner, your lover—deserves to own this ring more than anyone. You put yourself in great danger to acquire it for him without his knowledge but in the end, you succeed. So now, what magical piece of jewellery would be more suitable to propose to the vampire spawn you want to spend the rest of your life with than this one?
A/N: Who’s the goose that’s on the loose…
Words: 1694 Warnings: so much fluff, mentions of smut, SPOILERS FOR ACT 3
Blood, tears, sweat, another suicide mission. The rusty ring in your hand almost appeared as if it hadn’t been worth it to risk your neck and sanity for it but appearances were deceptive. This unassuming piece of jewellery in your hand held the answer to Astarion’s prayers. The very object that had made this long and exhausting search so rewarding in the end.
He didn’t know about it yet. He had no idea you’d had a lead with this legendary object at all. And after months of relentless and disappointing searches, Astarion had all but decided the ring was just another myth created to mock him in his misery… to the very point you had begun to doubt your decision to stop him from finishing Cazador’s work and letting him ascend.
You took a deep breath, shaking your head to chase the thought away. No. Walking in the sun was not worth spoiling his mind, his very soul—regardless of the fact you would have never left his side. You’d decided that the night he had confessed his feelings for you. This man was to be yours, forever.
Now you’d give this ring a little bit of polishing, and a bath in vinegar and soap and then you were certain it would look as good as new. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face, to see the first moment he slid it on his finger and stepped back into the daylight without tadpoles and sacrificed souls. Nervousness washed over you when you pictured your plan in your head but there was no doubt—only excitement and impatience.
Today would change his life for the better. Perhaps one day, if he so wished, you would even find a way to cure his vampirism altogether but for now, you wanted him to have this gift.
Your shared bedroom was empty, the sheets unmade and the smell of sex still lingering in the air. You were still getting used to the nocturnal lifestyle, of course. Staying up with him all night and sleeping during the day was messing with your inner body clock but it was a small price to pay to be with him.
The wooden door leading out to the balcony was open, the barest hint of light pouring through the gap. You approached it on bare feet, the hinges creaking when you pushed the door open further.
“There you are,” he mused without turning around. Astarion was leaning against the metal railing of the balcony, staring into the darkness. A few torches here and there lit the still-sleeping city as the sun began to crawl up from behind the hills, the chirping birds urging it on to start the morning. He truly was a sight to behold—shirtless and pale, even with the everlasting scars Cazador had inflicted on his back, you were overcome with the urge to drag him back to bed and have your way with him in an instant. You did that a lot these days—giving him pleasure upon pleasure without asking for anything in return. Astarion had learned in a rather rewarding way what your mouth and tongue could do for him. Teaching him to be intimate with you in a both consensual and sensual way was a task you were happy to pursue.
You hummed in response, walking up to him to sling your arms around his middle from behind, the ring hidden in the pocket of your morning robe. You pressed the side of your face against his back, his cold skin cooling your heated cheek.
He had been doing this a lot lately. Dragging out the final moments of the night, catching a glimpse of the sun and Baldur’s Gate below him before retreating to the shadows again to ensure his own survival. No more. You sighed.
“What is it, darling?”
“Nothing… I just… love you.”
Astarion chuckled—a barely audible sound coating your heart like sweet honey. At last, he turned around to face, your arms still wrapped around him. You had to look up to meet those crimson-red eyes and the gentle smile tugging on his lips.
“I love you too.”
“I don’t ever want to be apart from you again, my love.”
“Nor I from you,” he purred. His smile was gentle, genuine. You’d fought hard to make him drop that wall of feigned confidence and reveal the real feelings lying underneath. Now, you couldn’t get enough of it. “Let’s head back inside. I’m starting to feel… warm.”
“Just a moment, please.”
The vampire spawn raised his eyebrows but waited nonetheless.
“You said forever,” you went on, your heart pounding in your chest.
“Yes?” He dragged the word out and smirked, reciprocating your hug now; his palms resting against your waist. His closeness calmed your nerves, encouraging you without him knowing.
“I… I want forever to start now. I want us to belong to each other and I want everyone to know.”
“Oh my… you’re feeling quite poetic today, my sweet. I don’t object.”
The first sunbeams hit the stone floor of the balcony upon his playful teasing and you could tell that he was getting nervous, eager to flee to the bedroom to avoid the angry burns he expected any moment now.
With a deep breath, you freed yourself from his embrace and took a step back to get down on one knee. It was then you saw the surprise dominating his beautiful face, his lips parting. Determined, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the shiny ring, holding it out to him.
“Astarion Ancunín… will you make me the happiest woman of Faerûn and marry me?”
It took him a heartbeat to remember how to draw oxygen himself, it seemed. He muttered your name under his breath, red eyes fixed on the plain but powerful ring in your hands. He didn’t recognise it, of course, didn’t expect it to be what it was. He had no reason to believe that this unimpressive piece of jewellery was about to return something to him which should have never been taken in the first place.
“Marry you?” he repeated, almost unbelieving. “I… I do, love. I want… yes.”
Yes. You smiled, the weight of uncertainty falling from your shoulders at once. You took his hand in his, sliding the ring on his finger and rose to your feet again, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him.
Astarion melted into your affectionate treatment without hesitation, yet you could tell he was holding back. Uneasy, he pulled away.
“Darling, as much as I would like to savour this moment, could we celebrate our engagement inside?” He glanced at the sun rising higher and higher. Any second now the balcony would be fully submerged in its warm light.
Instead of responding to his plea, however, you only smiled at him. You were certain this would work—you had seen the ring in action after all, made sure it was safe before you took it to your love. You had met up with Dalyria, one of Astarion’s spawn siblings, in secret, only two days ago for this exact reason and she had volunteered to try the effects of the ring—saying it was the least she could do in return after Astarion had freed them.
“I need to get inside!” You reached for his hands when he panicked, holding him in place. Only seconds later, you were both drowned in the soft morning sunlight.
Astarion squeezed his eyes shut and flinched, expecting the burn and the pain the day brought him—but nothing happened. He remained standing, the sunbeams warming his skin.
“What… what is… how is this possible?” he breathed out.
“The Sunwalker’s Gift. It’s the ring, Astarion.”
His red eyes widened, disbelief swinging in his smooth voice as he looked down on his ring-clad finger to admire the shining piece of jewellery reflecting the sunlight. “But… but how? How did you get it?”
“The mage we found and spoke to contacted me a few weeks back. He put me in touch with a bard who meddled with vampires before—two of which, after a couple of pints, revealed that the ring was every vampire’s secret dream and rumoured to have been buried with a deceased vampire lord in the lands north of Rivington a couple of centuries ago. After that, the mage and I returned to do more research and discovered where his tomb is located.”
“And you went to this tomb… alone? Have you lost your mind? Gods, anything could have happened to you!” He was trying his best to be upset, truly. You had to hold back a giggle when his voice went a little high-pitched. It was flattering knowing that the only person this gorgeous man had ever truly shown honest concern for was you.
“I wasn’t alone, I promise. I had help. Halsin and Gale accompanied me.”
“Halsin I can understand. But… Gale?” He pretended to gag, eliciting another childish giggle from you. But then, his tone became more serious once again.
“You did this for me… I…” The very hint of an embarrassed laugh clung to his words. “I’m not sure I even deserve you.”
“You do. I love you. And you’re stuck with me now. You just agreed to be my husband, remember?”
“How could I?” Astarion muttered your name again. There was admiration and affection as it left his lips like a prayer. You had no doubt that part of him was still processing what this engagement ring really meant. It was too early still for joyous screams and running across the flower fields hand in hand. “Thank you. This is… I did not dare dream of this and yet you continue to surprise me. I just… thank you, my love.”
You nodded. “I told you all I want is for you to be happy. I would have turned every single rock in Faerûn to find this ring for you. Now come on. We have a long day ahead of us and a wedding to plan.”
Astarion smirked, his red eyes sparkling with joy, relief and affection. “Darling… there is nothing I’d like more.”
A/N: I am so crazy for him this is abnormal even for me. I'LL BE GETTING A GROUP PHOTO WITH THE WHOLE MAIN CAST AT MCM, I'M SO HYPED!
#astarion#astarion imagine#astarion x you#astarion x reader#astarion fluff#astarion x tav#the sunwalker's gift#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 imagine#bg3#bg3 imagine#astarion ancunin#astarion ancunin imagine#astarion ancunin x you#astarion ancuncin x reader
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MIND GAMES ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ bf!Jungkook x gf!reader ˒˓ established relationship genre/tags. smut, v small amount of angst, fluff, thigh riding, face sitting, body worshipping, jk lowkey simping hella hard in this & we love to see it <3 words. 1.4k
**old repost from my deleted blog
“Can you stop ignoring me please? It's driving me crazy.” You whine to your nonchalant boyfriend, urging him to mutter at least one word.
He has been giving you the silent treatment since this morning. You and Jungkook got into a petty argument that could've been easily resolved within seconds had he not just stormed out mid-convo.
Rightfully so— you were upset by him not wanting to talk things out and he got all defensive by saying you were ‘overreacting’. The bickering only spiraled from there and once you realized you had to leave for work you left without even saying goodbye.
You felt bad for not at least giving a peck on the cheek but you were slightly annoyed by how immature he could be at times. Once you came back home, you wanted to talk with him immediately to patch things up yet he's still being difficult with you. His silence was speaking mere volumes.
“So you're really going to play that game now huh? You know you can't ignore me forever Kook.” You snicker, all those pent up emotions filling you with an intense longing for him. “Can you say something?”
Jungkook remained quiet as a mouse, still refusing to speak, just sitting there examining you. Taking all of you in, basking in his own little glory. He wasn't trying to ignore you at first but now it has turned into a game for him. His only goal was seeing how far he could push your buttons until you break.
There was nothing more frustrating than craving someone's affection. His affection. Usually he'd give it to you on a silver platter, spoiling you with all the love and attention he could provide. But today — you were gonna have to work for it, and that you did.
Since talking wasn't the solution you try your best guess and think of something else. That's when an evil plan struck your mind — you were going to get a word of out him one way or another.
You were still wearing your work clothes so you strip naked right in front him, taking off every piece of clothing to only leave you in your panties. He tried to make it not so obvious that he was staring but you could feel his eyes on you the whole time. Still quiet, he looks up at you with his big, brown doe eyes — glancing over every inch of your bare form.
Licking his lips while leaning back on the couch he takes in all of you, losing himself in your alluring gaze. As much as he wanted to believe he had all the control in this situation, you played a deafening role in making sure this won't be an easy win for him.
As soon as you fully undressed you make your way over to Jungkook, subtly swaying your hips to send a rise out of him. Walking up to your boyfriend you find yourself straddling his thighs between your legs, the bitter silence only creating a thicker tension. His face looked so innocent, you couldn't help but go in to kiss him. Grabbing the side of his face to pull him in for a sweet, sensual kiss, molding your lips to match his hungry movement.
He was passionate with the kiss — almost leaving you winded by the end. You could tell that he's been holding that in since this morning, you couldn't open your eyes afterwards, savoring in the taste of him on your tongue.
“I'm an asshole, sorry y/n. I don't know why I do the things I do sometimes… but l'm thankful I have someone as patient as you in my life.” Jungkook finally spoke, his gentle tone brings you a familiar source of comfort.
Heated make outs turned you both into even more dangerous territory. A constant rush of heat surges throughout your body, leading all the way down to your aching core, you swung your head back in pleasure while riding your boyfriend's pretty, muscular thighs. The light-blue distressed jeans he wore showing just the slightest bit of skin to make you go feral. The weak, sweaty kisses in between rutting against him — the friction of his jeans grazing over your clothed heat, making you feverishly whimper out for him.
Jungkook couldn't keep his hands off you if he tried. Everything about you is absolutely stunning and perfect to him. His hands dance along the perimeters of your body, tracing every line and curve of your heavenly beauty — embarking on the notion that you are all his. He needs to show how grateful and lucky he is to have you more often.
“God... need you so bad right now..I don't wanna waste another second without having my cock inside you.” He keens, migrating his lips up the side of your earlobe.
He's going to have to put in the work to get a reward like that though.
“I want you to eat me out then we can talk later.” You boldly counter, not even giving him an option at this point.
His face lights up with an idea, “Wanna sit on my face princess?” You nod right away, letting Jungkook maneuver you to the side so he could lye down comfortably — he looks up at you with wandering eyes as you go in for another kiss. He hums into the kiss, moving his hands to grab your ass. It's beginning to become too unbearable to keep your panties on.
Breaking the kiss to remove your soaked underwear, you toss them on the floor and meet your boyfriend's handsome face once again.
The anticipation was killing him, he couldn't wait to devour your pretty little pussy already ;( As soon as you positioned yourself below him, he held onto your thighs with both hands — making eye contact with you as he pressed a kiss to your swollen bud.
Any minor touch to your clit makes you overtly sensitive, letting out a tiny mewl from the light action. His lips part open to dip his tongue into your wetness, “mmmh... fuck Koo” you hiss, already needing to brace yourself to not cum early. His mouth always works magic on you, leaving you with an earth-shattering orgasm every single time.
He flattens his tongue completely now, dragging a long stripe across your slit, drinking up all your essence, letting none of you go to waste. His face was so deeply buried into you all you could see now was the top of his head — grabbing a fistful of his messy hair to pull on later. You rock your hips back and forth to build more movement, grinding on his face while not having a care in the world if he could breathe or not.
From the looks of it, there were no complications on his end since he started moaning against you — the vibrations sending instant chills to your spine. You feel his nose brush up against your bundle of nerves, his tongue appears again to spread it’s brutal attack on your clit. His warmth on the sensitive sprout makes you jut your hips into a hastier motion.
“Shit... keep going just like that…i'll cum all over your face,” you cry out, feeling yourself close to making a huge mess and creaming all over his face.
“Cum on my face please, my precious little doll.” He only breaks away to say that quickly and attaches hisself back instantly.
Those words did it for you, it was like ultimate green light to reaching your climax. Two digits enter your weeping cunt and his tongue goes back to sucking on your puffy abused clit — the knot in your stomach tightens as he produces sloppier licks to your leaking folds.
A lusty, guttural moan escaped your lips, screaming your boyfriend's name at the top of your lungs. Jungkook keeps your hips steady with a tight grasp to help ride out your intense high; his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping. His face saturated with the glint of your sweet nectar, he licks his lips and savors the delicious taste of you, there's nothing that'll ever compare.
"So beautiful my baby.. so fucking gorgeous.." he chants under his breath, kissing the apex of your thighs. He'll never get tired of admiring your pretty body— or you in general.
Jungkook has always been more of a giver than a receiver, he likes to watch his partner writhe under him, loves when they cry and violently shake while he's giving them the most pleasurable moments of their life. He also likes to get what he wants in the end but that isn't always needed for him to be satisfied. He'll get his nut eventually, but in the meantime he's going to keep playing with you some more.
#jungkook x reader#jungkook drabble#jungkook drabbles#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook imagine#bts smut
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Venus in houses
Venus signifies love, beauty, relationships, art, aesthetics, and harmony in astrology. It also represents how we express affection and what we're attracted to.
These post are general and won't resonate 100% because we have to consider other aspects too.
For entertainment purposes only!
Venus in the 1st house
People with Venus in the 1st house tend to be naturally charming and attractive. They have a friendly, approachable vibe that draws others in. People often find them physically appealing, even if they're not aware of it. These individuals have a certain grace and poise about them. They carry themselves with elegance and may have a good sense of fashion and style. They know how to make a positive first impression. Venus represents beauty, and when it's in the 1st house, these folks have a deep appreciation for all things beautiful. They may have a keen interest in art, fashion, or design. Socializing comes naturally to them. They enjoy being around people and are often the life of the party. They make friends easily and can adapt to different social situations with ease. Relationships play a significant role in their lives. They are often focused on creating harmonious and loving connections with others. They may fall in love quickly and enjoy the romantic aspects of life. In conversations, they tend to be diplomatic and tactful. They have a way of saying things that doesn't ruffle feathers, which makes them excellent mediators in conflicts. People with Venus in the 1st house are generally well-liked and popular. They have a magnetic quality that draws others to them, and they can often get what they want through their charm and charisma. Many of them have artistic talents, whether it's in music, visual arts, or any other creative endeavor. They may find joy and fulfillment in expressing themselves artistically. On the downside, they may have a tendency to indulge themselves a bit too much. This could manifest in overeating, overspending, or other forms of self-gratification. They often have strong preferences when it comes to aesthetics. They know what they like and don't like, whether it's in their home decor, clothing, or personal grooming. They value harmony and balance in their lives. Disruptions or conflicts can be particularly distressing for them, and they may go to great lengths to restore peace. Their personal values are very important to them. They are likely to stand up for what they believe in, and they seek partners and friends who share similar values.
Venus in the 2nd house
Having Venus here often means you appreciate the finer things in life. You might have a knack for making money and enjoy spending it on beautiful stuff – whether it's a fancy car, a stylish wardrobe, or a cozy home. You're likely drawn to luxurious and high-quality items. Quality over quantity is your mantra. You'd rather have one exquisite piece than a bunch of cheap stuff. Venus in the 2nd house can bring a touch of charm and grace to your financial dealings. People might find it hard to say no to you when you're asking for a loan or negotiating a deal. Your values play a significant role in your relationships. You're attracted to partners who share your values, especially when it comes to money and possessions. Harmony in these areas is important to you. You tend to be generous with your loved ones, showering them with gifts and treats. It's your way of showing affection. You usually have a good sense of how to manage your money. Financial stability is essential for your peace of mind, and you work to achieve it. Venus also rules beauty and art, so you might have a keen eye for design and aesthetics. You could excel in professions related to art, fashion, or interior decorating.You find pleasure in the sensory experiences of life – good food, beautiful surroundings, and physical comfort. This can also extend to your romantic life, where physical intimacy is essential. if Venus isn't well-aspected here, it could lead to overindulgence in spending or a tendency to be materialistic. Be mindful of not equating your self-worth with your possessions.
Venus in the 3rd house
Venus in the 3rd house blesses you with a silver tongue. You have a natural charm in the way you speak and interact with others. Your words are like sweet melodies, making it easy for you to connect with people on a personal level. You're a great conversationalist and can easily win people over with your pleasant demeanor. Venus is the planet of beauty and creativity, and in the 3rd house, it infuses your communication with a touch of artistry. You may have a talent for writing, public speaking, or storytelling. Your creative ideas flow effortlessly into your conversations, making them engaging and memorable. You're socially adept and thrive on building relationships with those in your immediate environment. This placement often indicates a strong bond with siblings, making you a friendly and supportive sibling or enjoying close relationships with your brothers and sisters. You may also have a knack for forming close friendships with your neighbors or people you encounter in your day-to-day life. Venus in the 3rd house can make you a lifelong learner. You have a curiosity about the world and a love for acquiring knowledge, especially in subjects related to art, culture, and aesthetics. This placement can encourage you to pursue studies or hobbies that involve beauty, such as literature, music, or the visual arts. While you're charming, your interactions with others may sometimes be perceived as flirtatious, even if that's not your intention. You enjoy the playful side of communication and may engage in witty banter or playful teasing. This can make you quite popular and fun to be around. In relationships, you express your affection through words and gestures. Love letters, sweet text messages, and small romantic surprises come naturally to you. You appreciate the beauty of love and use your communication skills to strengthen your romantic connections. Your relationship with siblings tends to be harmonious and supportive. You're there for them when they need you, and you bring a sense of ease and understanding to your family dynamics. The 3rd house also relates to short journeys. With Venus here, you may have a fondness for weekend getaways, road trips, or other short adventures, often with loved ones.
Venus in the 4th house
You find a deep sense of emotional security and comfort within the confines of your home and family. There's a strong need for a harmonious and loving domestic environment. You have a strong attachment to your home and might enjoy decorating and making it aesthetically pleasing. Your home is often a place of comfort, love, and artistic expression. Family plays a significant role in your life. You may have a close and loving relationship with your family members, particularly your mother or maternal figures. You attach sentimental value to family heirlooms, traditions, and memories. Your family's history and heritage are important to you. Your approach to love and relationships is nurturing and caring. You may express love through taking care of your loved ones, especially within the home environment. You seek a harmonious and peaceful home life, and you might go to great lengths to maintain a loving atmosphere. You enjoy entertaining at home and often find happiness in hosting gatherings. Venus in the 4th house can grant a good sense of style and design for home decoration. You may enjoy collecting art, antiques, or items of beauty for your living space. Your early childhood experiences, especially in your family, can strongly influence your attitudes and behaviors in love and relationships as an adult. There can be a strong interest in real estate, and you might invest in properties or find a career related to homes and interior design. Striving for balance and emotional security is crucial for your happiness. You seek relationships that provide a sense of comfort and emotional well-being.
Venus in the 5th house
With Venus in the 5th house, you have a magnetic charm that makes you naturally attractive and romantic. You seek love and pleasure in creative and playful ways. You enjoy the excitement of romance, and your relationships tend to be passionate and full of affection. This placement enhances your artistic and creative abilities. You may have a talent for music, art, or any form of self-expression. You find joy and fulfillment in creative pursuits and often use them as a means of showcasing your love and affection. Your inner child is very much alive, and you enjoy fun and playfulness. You may have a special connection with children and might excel in roles involving teaching or working with young people. Your love life often resembles a romantic fairy tale. You have a love for entertainment, whether it's through the arts, sports, or other leisure activities. You enjoy the finer things in life and are willing to invest in experiences that bring pleasure and luxury. Your charm and charisma are accentuated, making you a natural flirt. You tend to be social and love attention, often becoming the center of attraction in social settings. This can be a positive trait in your love life and personal relationships. You may be more willing to take risks in matters of the heart. This can lead to exciting and passionate relationships, but it may also involve some ups and downs. Love and creativity often go hand in hand for you, and you're not afraid to pursue your passions. If you become a parent, your love for children will shine through. You're likely to be a warm, affectionate, and creative parent who encourages your children to explore their own creative talents. Venus in the 5th house can bring out your dramatic side. You enjoy being in the spotlight and expressing yourself with flair, whether on stage or in everyday life. You may have a wide range of hobbies and interests that allow you to express your creativity and love. Your interests can become a big part of your identity and how you attract and connect with others.
Venus in the 6th house
You have a natural flair for bringing beauty and creativity into your job. You tend to enjoy work that involves art, aesthetics, or social interactions. You are likely to be diplomatic and pleasant in your interactions with colleagues and clients, making you a valuable team member. Venus in the 6th house often bestows good physical health. You are inclined to take care of your body and may be drawn to activities like yoga or other forms of exercise that are not only beneficial but enjoyable too.You are charming and diplomatic in your interactions with co-workers. This can create a harmonious work environment, but be cautious of overindulgence in office gossip or drama This placement can signify a love for helping others. You may be drawn to careers in healthcare, social work, or any field that involves assisting and nurturing people. You have a strong need for beauty and aesthetics in your daily life. You might decorate your workspace, have a well-organized and visually pleasing schedule, and appreciate the finer things in your daily routines. Your creative talents can be expressed through your work. You may find ways to infuse artistry into even the most mundane tasks, making your daily routines more enjoyable and fulfilling.Be cautious about romantic involvements in the workplace, as Venus in the 6th house can lead to romantic attractions with colleagues. It's essential to maintain professionalism in such situations. You may struggle to find a balance between work and personal life, as you can become so absorbed in your job or daily tasks that you forget to take breaks for self-care and enjoyment.
Venus in the 7th house
Venus in the 7th house indicates a deep need for harmonious relationships. You are drawn to partners who are attractive, charming, and cultured. You seek equilibrium and balance in your partnerships and may avoid conflict whenever possible. You have a natural ability to attract people and form meaningful connections. You may be seen as diplomatic, charming, and well-liked in social situations. Your charisma can be a significant asset in your personal and professional life.This placement often signifies a strong desire for committed and long-lasting partnerships. You are likely to value the institution of marriage and may dream of a fairy-tale romance. Venus in the 7th house can enhance your artistic and creative talents, as the 7th house represents partnerships, and Venus is the planet of aesthetics. You might find artistic expression through collaboration or partnerships. You have a refined sense of beauty and may be drawn to artistic or visually appealing partners. You appreciate art, fashion, and all things aesthetically pleasing. In your relationships, you tend to be diplomatic and value compromise. You may go to great lengths to maintain peace and harmony, sometimes at the cost of expressing your true feelings. This placement can influence not only your personal relationships but also your business partnerships. You're likely to have a good sense of business and can form lucrative partnerships, particularly in ventures related to beauty, art, or design. While Venus in the 7th house brings a lot of positive attributes, there can be challenges too. You may struggle with being overly dependent on your partner for emotional well-being, and at times, you might fear being alone. People with Venus in the 7th house often attract love into their lives. However, the challenge lies in maintaining that love over the long term, as you may idealize your partners. Your ability to negotiate and find common ground with others is a significant strength. You're skilled at resolving conflicts peacefully.
Venus in the 8th house
You possess an intense and deep emotional nature. Your feelings are not superficial; they run profound and can often be veiled, even to yourself. In your romantic relationships, you seek deep, passionate, and transformative connections. You're drawn to intense, soulful bonds with your partners. Your desires and pleasures are deeply rooted in the physical realm. Sensuality plays a significant role in your life, and you may have strong sexual appetites. The 8th house is also associated with shared resources and joint finances. You may have financial dealings with others, such as business partnerships or shared assets with a spouse. Venus in the 8th house can give you a magnetic and alluring presence. People may be naturally drawn to you because of your intense charm and charisma. You are inclined towards personal transformation and growth. You're not afraid to confront the darker aspects of life and explore the mysteries of the human psyche. You take your relationships seriously and are willing to invest a lot of emotional energy into them. Loyalty is crucial to you, and you may have a tendency to hold onto relationships longer than most. Financially, you may experience highs and lows. Joint financial matters can be a source of both gain and loss. It's essential to be cautious in financial partnerships. The 8th house is associated with the occult, mysteries, and hidden knowledge. You might have a natural inclination towards astrology, tarot, or other mystical subjects. Venus in the 8th house can also lead to a desire for control in relationships and financial matters. You may find it challenging to trust others completely. Your love life is often transformative. Relationships have the power to change you, and you may go through periods of intense emotional growth and change through love. On the downside, you might struggle with jealousy and possessiveness in relationships. It's important to work on trust and open communication. Venus adds an element of grace and elegance to your personality. You have a refined taste and may enjoy indulging in luxurious and beautiful things.
Venus in the 9th house
You possess a deep love for exploring new horizons, whether through travel, higher education, or spiritual pursuits. The desire to expand your worldview through these means is a significant part of your life.Venus brings harmony to your beliefs and values. You seek a sense of unity and may find beauty in various cultural, philosophical, or religious traditions. This placement often indicates a person with a more liberal and open-minded approach to different belief systems. You're attracted to intellectual and philosophical subjects. Learning is not just a duty but a pleasure for you. You may excel in fields related to higher education, publishing, or teaching. Venus in the 9th house encourages an appreciation for art, culture, and aesthetics from around the world. You might have a love for foreign languages, literature, or art. In relationships, you may be drawn to partners from diverse cultural or educational backgrounds. Romantic relationships often have a touch of adventure and exploration. Travel can be a source of pleasure and learning for you. You may have the opportunity to travel for pleasure and education. These experiences can be pivotal in your personal growth. Your ability to express your beliefs is marked by diplomacy and charm. You can discuss sensitive topics without causing offense and might even be a mediator in philosophical or religious debates. You seek deeper, spiritual truths and might explore various belief systems to find your own path. This placement often indicates a person on a lifelong journey of self-discovery. Your sense of aesthetics is influenced by your exposure to different cultures. You appreciate the beauty in diversity and may incorporate elements of various cultures into your personal style or home decor. At times, your strong desire for expansion and exploration can make you restless or commitment-averse in relationships. You may need to find a balance between your love for freedom and the stability of a long-term partnership.
Venus in the 10th house
You are likely to be quite focused on your career and public image. Venus in the 10th house suggests that you have a strong desire for success and recognition in your chosen field. You're drawn to professions that involve art, beauty, fashion, design, or anything that allows you to express your creative and aesthetic talents. You possess a natural charm and diplomacy that makes you adept at dealing with people in authority. This can be a valuable asset in your professional life, as you have the ability to network, negotiate, and create positive relationships with influential individuals. You have a refined sense of aesthetics, which can be applied to your career choices. Whether you are an artist, a fashion designer, or even in a corporate setting, you appreciate beauty and elegance. This can help you stand out in your profession. Your public image is important to you, and you are often seen as someone with a strong sense of style and grace. People may view you as a tastemaker or a person who embodies the ideal of beauty and harmony. Venus in the 10th house can also indicate an interest in social standing and a desire to be associated with those in higher social strata. You may feel comfortable in elite social circles and aspire to climb the social ladder. You tend to approach authority figures with diplomacy and grace. This can help you navigate your way through the corporate world or other hierarchical structures with finesse. There can be a connection between your career and your relationships. You may meet significant others through your professional endeavors or choose a partner who is supportive of your career goals. Careers in public relations, marketing, or any field that involves presenting an appealing public image may be particularly suitable for you. Your ability to make things look good is a valuable skill. You are likely to gain popularity and recognition in your career, which is influenced by your charm and your ability to win people over. However, be mindful of balancing your personal and professional life. With Venus in the 10th house, there can be a tendency to prioritize your career at the expense of your personal relationships, so it's important to find equilibrium.
Venus in the 11th house
Venus in the 11th house is like a social magnet. People with this placement often have a natural charm and are well-liked by their friends and acquaintances. They're the ones who make social gatherings more enjoyable. This placement fosters strong and meaningful friendships. Venus encourages harmonious connections, and in the 11th house, it means you're likely to have a wide circle of friends who genuinely care about you. The 11th house is associated with social causes and humanitarian efforts. With Venus here, you might be drawn to charity work or other activities that promote social well-being. Venus in the 11th house makes you great at networking. You easily connect with people who can help you professionally and personally, which can be a significant asset in your career. You're a team player by nature. Collaboration and group activities bring you joy, and you're likely to excel in team-based projects. You might find yourself involved in social or community events, and people often look up to you as a popular figure. Your charisma and appeal can lead to a high level of popularity. In matters of love, you're an idealist. You seek a partner who not only shares your goals and dreams but also someone who is your best friend. Your love life is often intertwined with your social circles. This placement can also bring creative friends into your life. You're drawn to artistic, musical, or creative individuals who inspire you. On the flip side, there can be a tendency to keep some emotional distance from friends. You might appear more aloof than you actually are, which could be misunderstood by some. The 11th house represents your hopes and dreams. With Venus here, you're likely to have artistic and aesthetic aspirations. You may want to make the world a more beautiful place. Venus is linked to money, and in the 11th house, it can bring financial opportunities through your network and friends. Your social connections might play a role in your financial success.
Venus in the 12th house
This placement often indicates secret or clandestine love affairs. You might find yourself drawn to relationships that aren't out in the open, maybe due to societal or personal reasons. You've got a vivid imagination and a strong creative streak. This could manifest in artistic talents or a penchant for daydreaming. You tend to keep your emotions hidden, even from yourself. It can take a while for you to truly understand what you want and need in love and relationships. The 12th house is about self-sacrifice, and with Venus here, you might find yourself giving a lot in your relationships, sometimes to the detriment of your own needs. You have a deep well of compassion and empathy for others. You might be drawn to help those who are less fortunate or in need. Venus in the 12th can inspire artistic pursuits in seclusion. You might excel in creative fields where you can work behind the scenes. This placement can also indicate a strong connection between love and spirituality. You might seek a partner who shares your spiritual beliefs or find love in places of worship. On the flip side, relationships can be a source of inner turmoil. You might attract partners who are emotionally complex or who bring hidden issues to the surface. Your idea of romance can be dreamy and idealistic. You might have high expectations in love and may need to learn to balance these with reality. The 12th house is often associated with past life issues and karma. You might feel a strong karmic connection with some of your partners. Privacy is essential to you when it comes to love. You might not be one to flaunt your relationships on social media or in public. Your desires in love can be somewhat unconscious, and you may not always understand why you're attracted to certain people or situations.
#tarotwithavi#venus astrology#venus in houses#venus in 8th house#astrology#astro observations#astro community#astroblr#venus in astrology#venus in the 8th house#venus in the 1st house#venus in the 12th house#venus in scorpio#venus in virgo#venus in taurus#venus#venus in leo#venus in signs#venus in capricorn#venus in the sky#pick a card
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”bite me. ‘s okay baby.” matt leans closer to you, keeping your legs hoisted on his shoulders. a pout forms on your face while you shake your head gently. “i don’ wanna hurt you.” you mutter as your boyfriend wipes away a small piece of bit off skin from your lip. “you’re messing with your lips, angel. it won’t hurt me, promise.” he kissed your cheek before continuing his thrusts into you.
see the thing about oral fixations is everybody usually thinks it’s plain old sucking. but you have a teething obsession. anything you can bite, you will. whether it’s your finger, the inside of your cheek, your lip, and sometimes you have the urge to bite on your boyfriend’s statuesque body— like right now for example. though you never have since you tug hard. and you’d never want to hurt your precious boy.
those thoughts go out the window when matt speeds up, as well as his pounding getting harder. you mewl, chewing on the inside of your cheek. your boyfriend’s face is shoved into your neck, rutting his hips into you like a dog in heat. his neck rests right in front of your face, and you can’t help but lean slightly forward to nibble on it. nibbles turn into hickey marks when you bite down harshly and suck the supple skin. he cries out when you do, his breath going rigid.
“fuck…” he winces, not only out of pain but out of pleasure. damn he never knew he had a kink for pain. he kisses your shoulder blade as you continue to create loud sucking noises, reaching your high. “mm, baby i’m g’na— oh..” you pull back away from his flesh with the bottom half of your face covered in saliva. he lifts his head as you do, admiring the fucked out bliss written all over your face. his pace falters, watching your head tilting back, his following yours, determined to admire you releasing on his dick while your gaze looks down to admire your marks turning darker.
#bleh#self inserted#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#𐔌 ♡ ˚₊ matt sturniolo ₊˚ ⊹
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𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 | 𝐞.𝐦.
This piece contains brief allusions to smut.
Pairing Eddie Munson x Female Reader [friends -> lovers]
Summary It’s the morning after your first time with Eddie, and the two of you navigate the quiet intimacy of it all [fluff, 1.4k].
A/N This is the third installment to the little friends to lovers universe I created. They all work as standalone fics, but I clearly can’t get enough and keep adding onto their story.
PART ONE | PART TWO
∘°∘♡∘°∘
Eddie wakes up alone. It's a reality not unlike every other day of his life. Except, the sheets gathered at his waist aren’t black and no heavy metal posters adorn the walls. Everything is neat and airy and bright, softly screaming of you. The only anomaly in the room is his leather jacket hanging on the back of your desk chair. When he reaches out to run his hand over the empty space on the bed beside him, he’s unsure if it’s warm from your body heat or the pale streaks of sunlight streaming in through the flowy white curtains.
After rolling onto his back, he stretches his arms with a satisfied groan as his muscles pull. That’s when the sound of your footsteps emerge from the hallway, growing closer and closer. As you push your bedroom door open, you catch him quickly shutting his eyes as if getting caught. The faint smile that pulls on his lips exposes his wakefulness.
He’d been asleep when you first stirred. After a few minutes of combing through his hair and relishing the steady sound of his breaths, you’d slipped out of bed to check the voicemail box. But not before padding to your dresser to put on some clothes. There was a pleasant ache in the muscles of your thighs as you moved, your whole body alight with the memory of him.
Last night, you’d been too preoccupied with the dizzying proximity of Eddie hovering over you to answer the phone when it rang.
As you press the playback button, it comes as no surprise when your dad’s voice crackles to life to bid you goodnight and remind you to make sure the front door is locked. For their own sanity, you call your parents back to apologize and assure them that everything had been okay the previous night.
Back in your room, the mattress dips as you crawl into bed, forcing Eddie to fight a smile. He continues to feign sleep as you settle beside him with a content sigh. Once you’re tucked beneath the sheets, you place your hand on his chest as if swearing an oath to a truth larger than yourselves.
The tattoos on his skin are so bold and intricate that you can’t help but trace over them. Your featherlight touch makes him open his eyes and turn his head to look at you, blinking slowly. His hair is roused and his eyes are a little puffy and red from sleep.
There’s a flutter in your stomach upon noticing the faint lines on his cheek. In the few years of your friendship, you’d never had the pleasure of waking up to each other. The intimacy of it all makes it feel like you're buzzing.
“Sorry for leaving,” you murmur. “You didn’t feel any of that earlier?”
“Any of what?” His brows furrow, voice a little rough from sleep.
Before getting out of bed, you’d kissed him as well. Not once, but three times over his face. Admitting to such a tender thing feels harder than just having done it.
Instead, you shake your head in a shy dismissal. Not the kind of shyness that’s brutal and consuming, but the type that cradles vulnerability gently. After baring yourselves to each other last night, you suppose there's nothing more to be shy about. It’s just that the way Eddie looks at you makes it seem like you’re worth being figured out. Like it’s worth knowing about all the little things you do.
Everybody talks about the pain of being overlooked, but few consider how terrifying and wonderful it feels to be seen.
He’s quiet for a moment, searching your eyes. “Tell me what I missed, angel.” It’d probably be better to show him.
When you scoot closer, he instinctively turns to face you, placing a gentle hand on your hip. The fabric of your pajama shorts is too soft to be straight-up cotton, he thinks to himself. Before he knows it, warmth blooms beneath his skin as you lean in to kiss his forehead, the tip of his nose, then the corner of his mouth.
A hum vibrates in his throat as he runs his hand further down your leg, stopping as his palm reaches the bare skin of your thigh. All of this—your nearness, being kissed, touching you—seems like a luxury that should’ve expired after last night. At the risk of seeming pessimistic, he’s aware of how many good things in his life are fleeting. Except this. Except you. What the two of you have found feels more set in stone than anything else ever has.
As you pull away, he smiles at you as easily as breathing.
“How’d you sleep?” he asks.
“Good. Really good,” you say.
He begins to stroke your thigh. “Me too. I think you have that effect.” Even now, his body is pleasantly heavy with a bone-deep sense of refreshment. Like he was bearing the weight of being a new person in this morning light with you.
You open your mouth to say something, but stop yourself.
“What’s up?” he insists because he somehow catches everything.
“Nothing,” you huff a weak laugh. “I just feel…” you trail off, and Eddie keeps looking at you with those Bambi eyes.
His chest shakes with a chuckle when you whine and tuck your face into your pillow. Even though you can’t see it, his gaze turns painfully soft. You peek at him just as he’s reaching out to touch your cheek.
“You make me nervous.” It’s a quiet admission. “In the best possible way.”
Eddie doesn’t frown or insist you shouldn’t be, he just offers a small smile and strokes his thumb across the apple of your cheek. You press into his touch like you need it to survive. One thing he’ll never get over is how eternally fortunate you make him feel. He’ll spend the rest of his life either relishing the fact that you chose him or forever remembering these small moments.
Your nerves don’t worry him and neither do his own. It’s how he knew all this meant something. The longer he thinks about it, the more he realizes “nervous” might not even be the right word. Surely, there was another way to describe the feeling of caring about someone and their thoughts so deeply that you didn’t want to risk disrupting a single thing. A care so great it rang true within the innermost parts of you.
“We should probably get the day started before we end up stuck here,” he says. “I don’t know if you had any plans, but I can go if you want me out of your hair—”
You take his hand from where he’s still stroking your cheek, and kiss over his knuckles. “Absolutely not,” you say into his skin.
Eddie waits for you to continue.
“Will you stay for breakfast?” you ask. “I make really good scrambled eggs.” He’d stay for breakfast even if you couldn’t.
Amusement sparkles in his eyes. “I’ll be the judge of that.” You can’t help the laughter that rises up your throat when he pushes you onto your back and props himself over you.
Your attempts to stop him from nibbling down your neck are all in vain, and you halfheartedly push at his shoulders as your chest squeezes and flutters. When he pulls away, you’re still hiccuping over your giggles, and you pray you don’t look as silly as you feel. Eddie, however, gazes down at you with the most tender depth in his eyes.
“You’ve got the most killer smile ever, you know that?” he asks.
You reach up to tuck his hair behind his ears, trying to distract yourself from the warmth rising to your cheeks.
“Evidently not. It hasn’t killed you.”
With a dramatic inhale, Eddie grips his chest and rolls over to fall onto his back, feigning death.
You prop your forearms on his chest. “Please don’t die, I need you around.”
That makes him grin and tap your chin with a gentle knuckle. “Say that again, I didn’t quite hear you.”
You roll your eyes with a shake of your head. “I need you around, Eddie Munson.”
He grows a bit more sober. “I think I need you more.”
You could get used to this feeling of needing and being needed.
-
Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all.
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#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson friends to lovers#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things s4#stranger things
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You two had been fighting all day and night long, arguing back and forth about something that had happened earlier in the day. Miguel’s stubbornness mixed with your persistence had made for a long tiring day of endless jabs and bickering. And now you’re mad, really mad. Even though you’re both to blame, you’ve had enough of his inability to admit his faults. He just needs to control his temper, especially around you. He’s lost control over too many outbursts and one of these days you might just decide you’ve had enough. And he doesn’t know what he'd do with himself if you ever left him.
So after trying to talk to you, have a conversation, you blew up at him, your anger finally bubbling over. He let you explode at him, taking the scolding, knowing you had been the one holding it in all day while he did most of the yelling. But again, he let his anger get the best of him. One thing led to another, feelings were hurt again and again, and it all ended up in your shared bed, your legs spread wide over him, straddling his thick body in between your thighs, his chest pressed against yours, pumping into you with all the force of his anger.
It starts rough and angry, pushing your hands against his chest hard, softly whimpering how furious you were with him as he pulled your hair to make you face the ceiling, fucking up into you ruthlessly, making you even angrier. With every “fuck you” that passed your lips he’d pound into you harder and deeper, aiming to make you scream. Strained urgent cries of pleasure and pain left your gaping mouth as you smacked his chest away, making Miguel lose his shit yet another time today.
“Do you wanna get fucked or are you gonna fight me? Pick one, you can’t do both.” He says sternly, grabbing your wrist and pushing your arm behind your back, forcing you to stop pushing him away as you glare at him, his hips rolling up into you so meanly. “Mmm-fuck you Mig-ah!” You gasp and cry out as he rams into you when he hears your words, grabbing your hip roughly and bringing it down as he thrusts up into you hard. Your eyes become glossy and your voice is getting hoarse and none of this does anything to calm your anger.
“Just be quiet.” He commands, holding your hands behind your back as he keeps abusing your plush walls with his thickness, the both of you burning with the fire of sex and anger. You glare at him and bite your lip, as much as you wanted to scream at him, you had to admit he was being especially rough so you just decided to keep your mouth shut.
“Oh yeah now you wise up huh? Is this all it took? Just needed to be fucked?” He teases and grits his teeth, pulling your hair again, making you whine and furrow your brow, looking away from him, realizing you’ve been defeated by him. You’re left feeling weak and fragile when you were trying to give him a piece of your mind. You look away and are lost in thought for a few seconds. Your angry face fading into something softer, still whimpering, whining at the buzz in your neglected clit, short shallow breaths leaving your lips in rhythm.
He knows he’s being mean, knows exactly the right words to get you more angry and everything he’s doing is intentional. But now seeing your face made him start to feel guilty. He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment. This isn’t how problems get solved. And he created this problem, he shouldn’t be making it worse with this. He opens his mouth to say something but he doesn’t know what… and his face softens when he watches you close your eyes.
He slows down the pace, loosening his harsh grasp on your hair and softening his eyes while looking at you. Your eyes are closed and you still bite your lip hard. You’re so full of him, his dick gliding perfectly through your sensitivity even as you feel like hating him right now. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s making you feel so good even when you’re so upset with him. Even though your tears threaten to fall, you can’t deny he knows exactly how to make you feel good. He takes a deep breath and lets go of your wrists, one hand splayed gently on your back as he tucks some fallen hair behind your ear. “Baby…” He says softly, hoping you’ll acknowledge him. But you don't, you just keep your eyes closed as he keeps pumping into you at a slow, steady pace, still plenty deep enough for you to feel absolutely everything. If anything, this new tempo is getting you even closer to finishing. “Baby…” He says again as more of a whisper and leans forward to kiss your neck, trying to introduce some sweetness into this mix of hate and anger. When you feel him trying to kiss you, you push his face away with your hand, you don't want his kisses right now.
His guilt weighs heavier in his chest as he feels you push him away. He knows this all has gone too far. He can see you’re trying to ignore him again even when he’s deep inside you. He keeps his hands on your back as he gently lowers you down from where you were straddling his lap so roughly, and he lays you down on your back, your head landing softly on the pillows. Your eyes are still closed, breathing sharply, trying to just receive the pleasure he’s giving you and basically ignore him. Just use him to make yourself feel good. If he’s not going to apologize, at least he can make you cum, right?
“Please look at me… baby please…” He whispers, still pumping into you deeply, knowing it’s making you feel good even though he feels so bad inside. He can feel it in the way your muscles pulse around him, you’re still on your way up to release. He just wants you to acknowledge him, you could scream at him again if that's what it took. But he doesn’t want to stop giving you the only thing that’s seeming to make you feel good right now. He’s sure that if he stopped now you’d never forgive him.
“Please… please? Baby I-” He whimpers, begging, and you turn your head to the side. Your fingers dig into the pillow behind your head the way they usually dig into his muscles or run through his hair. But you don't want to touch him. Don’t want to give him the satisfaction. A tear rolls down the side of your face as your lips part in pleasure and he can feel that you’re getting close. But he doesn’t want you to cum and still be so mad at him, that would break his heart.
When you feel overwhelmed by the pleasure, feeling your orgasm start to burn in your tummy, you instinctively open your eyes and look at him. And he gives you a light smile as he keeps moving within you, trying to give you what you need. Your breath catches in your throat, almost sounding like you could cry.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry baby…” Miguel says looking in your eyes, running his thumb over your cheek, wiping your tears away. You look in his eyes and place a hand on his shoulder. He takes this as a step in the right direction. “I’m a fuckin’ idiot, okay? It’s my fault I’m… I’m sorry” He says genuinely and your face softens, a soft moan escaping your lips as he leans down further, getting even deeper, the way he knows you love. His dick kissing all the sweet spots. Your stomach muscles tense and relax at the feeling, he can feel it against his abdomen.
His fingers run down your cheek lovingly, a shaky breath passing your lips as you nod, acknowledging his apology. You know you also owe him an apology but you’re too fuzzy to do it right now. He gives you a small smile and begins grinding his hips into you, the way he knows feels much better for you than it does for him, making your jaw drop as the two of you never break eye contact. His fingers move down your stomach and between your thighs, collecting some of your slick and massaging your clit, feeling the way your thighs squeeze his waist in reaction. This is his final apology, bringing you into the bliss you need. The orgasm you deserve after such a long and distant day, stolen by the most pointless argument. You feel like you could cry at the pleasure, your hands grabbing at his shoulders as you whimper softly. “I… I’m…” You try to say. You don't know if you’re apologizing or trying to tell him you’re about to cum, but you can barely breathe right now.
“I know baby… I know…” He soothes and leans down again to kiss your neck. Trailing kisses across your throat and collarbone.
His brow furrows in focus, fucking into you sweetly but just the perfect amount of roughness to push you over the edge. His cock pulses through your walls again and again, feeling the burn in your stomach blossom into a beautiful flower. Your back arches into the bed and Miguel leaves kisses down your chest, feeling his own climax approaching. “Oh baby… oh…” He moans against your chest. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, crying out at the feeling. Your velvet walls squeeze him in rhythm and he slows his movements, spurting his load deep into you as he moans into your skin. And it’s the closest you’ve felt to each other all day.
When you both come down, you smile at him, your eyes still glossy with tears. Feeling overwhelmed by the emotions of the day and Miguel’s actions out of love.
“I love you…” Miguel whispers looking down and wiping another tear from your cheek, cursing himself in his head for making his sweet girl cry. You smile at him and it makes his heart swell, he’s missed your smile all day long. “I love you too… and I’m sorry… I don’t like fighting with you…” You say very softly, voice still slightly hoarse from all the yelling.
“I don’t like fighting with you either, amor…” He says gently and runs his thumb over your cheekbone, pressing his forehead to yours.
“No more…” You say and put your hand on his cheek, looking down at his lips.
“No more.” He repeats and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. You smile at him again and he leans in to kiss your lips finally. He hasn’t kissed your lips all day and it feels so right. Feels like a drug from which you’ve both been having withdrawal. He keeps kissing your lips over and over as you hum into his mouth.
“Do you forgive me?” He pulls back and looks in your eyes hopefully. “Mm…I might need some more convincing.” You whisper, the both of you grinning as he kisses you once more…
#miguel ohara#miguel spiderman#spiderman 2099#artists on tumblr#miguel fanart#miguel spiderverse#smut#artists on tiktok#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara smut#miguelohara#miguel x y/n#miguel x you#miguel x reader
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Hii would you be open to writing a piece for Lewis based on his verse in “Pipe”? It’s been stuck in my head lately 😫
Pipe Down | L. Hamilton
Summary: it’s just smut 🤭
masterlist taglist form
© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.
Warnings: 18+ smut, oral, fingering, reader says ‘sir’ like once, pussy obsessed lewis tbh, allusions to riding
Pairing: lewis x fem!reader
wc: 1.4k
a/n: it’s been stuck in my head too!! honestly if it wasn’t requested, I would’ve ended up writing it anyways 🫣
You were straddling Lewis, stripped down to nothing but your panties. Your legs framing his had you feeling slightly vulnerable since your pussy was only covered by a flimsy piece of cloth that he could easily take off if he wanted to. He laid his calloused palms on the side of your legs, trailing his fingers up and down the hem to playfully tease you through the lace.
Your arms rested on his shoulders, your hand weaving between his braids and pulling them with a tiny whine leaving your lips as his thumb skimmed over your folds hidden by a piece of fabric, slightly dampening the sensations.
You know I got a wild imagination
"Lew," you muttered breathlessly. He hummed, tilting his head up to lock his gaze with you, "what do you want, sweetheart?"
Instead of replying with words, you brought your hand to grasp his chin and led his lips closer to claim yours. He didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, easily able to take your breath away as if he had the power to give it to you in the first place.
You gasped against his mouth when his fingers snuck underneath the lace that was covering your pussy. He spread your folds, teasing your hole by tracing around it but never inserting his finger.
I like to play the doctor, operation
You couldn't keep your lips on his anymore, instead tilting your head back with a curse leaving your mouth. "Please," you muttered, looking at the way a corner of his lip turned down in a slight frown, his movements stopping completely.
"Please what?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. As you opened your mouth to respond, his thumb pressed against your clit causing a louder moan to leave your mouth at the sudden sensation.
"Please, sir, I need your fingers," you groaned out, and his frown was replaced by a smirk, pleased by your choice of words.
Spread it on the bed like a patient
Without a warning, he resumed his movements. Sliding two fingers between your folds to wet his fingers before slipping them inside you. "Good girl."
"Mmm fuck," you gritted out once he picked up the pace, introducing his thumb to create circles on your clit.
He urged you to start moving by pressing his free hand on your hip. "C'mon baby, fuck yourself on my fingers," he said, stopping his fingers once again and making you cry out in frustration. You obliged, grinding down on his fingers, gasping when he thrusted up a few time to catch you by surprise.
I'm about to show you domination
Looking down, you furrowed your brows briefly before moving your panties to the side, allowing both of you to see his tatted fingers enveloped by you over and over again.
He lifted your chin to face him, looking at you intensely while your jaw drops open in a silent moan. "Yeah, that's it," he praises after curling his finger slightly, feeling you clench around them.
Watching his name pass your lips breathlessly, he needed to claim them with his. Your eyes fluttered closed and you blindly rested your hand at the base of his neck, returning the kiss with just as much passion and need for your lover.
Got that nana dripping like a waterfall
Lost in the pleasure, you let out a sharp gasp when Lewis flipped you over, laying you down on the bed. He slid his fingers out, and both your gazes were attracted to it. You watched with an unwavering gaze as he licked your wetness from his fingers, his eyes closing and humming at the taste.
He leaned over you and began trailing kisses down your throat, lingering a few extra moments on your chest and enveloping your nipple in his mouth.
You pressed your palms on his cheeks, looking at him with hooded eyes. "Lewis, I need you, please baby," you almost pouted, and he couldn't help but chuckle and peck your lips quickly. "You already have me."
Oh na na na good, I could eat it all
Lying next to you, his hands made quick movements. Fingers hooking in the hem of your panties, he stretched the flimsy lace beyond its limit and ripped it off your body. You gasped, "Lewis!"
He simply shrugged, "you don't need them anyways." Then, he patted your thigh, "spread your legs for me, sweetheart."
Settling between your legs, he couldn't help but admire you as if he was looking at you for the first time, but he was very familiar with every inch of your body.
I'mma dive in, touch the ocean floor
Lewis grabbed onto your thighs to keep them apart essentially since he knew that you squirm when the initial kiss is pressed to your cunt. Lowering his face towards your pussy, he licked his lips seeing your slick running down and staining the bedsheets from your previous activities.
His warm mouth enveloped your clit, sucking on it while making little flicking motions with his tongue. Your hips bucked up on instinct that only caused him to let his tongue wander to the spots that he knew you loved.
You saw his eyes rolling back for a moment before they closed, groaning against your pussy when he licked from your hole to your clit, causing a burst of vibrations firing up every vein in your body.
You already know what you came here for
He knew the right touches that would bring you closer to the edge faster than anyone else could've—even you couldn't reach the same spots with your own fingers. That only made you want him more. If it were up to you, you'd have him between your legs at least once a day.
You could feel your orgasm bubbling up like champagne in every part of your body, ready to burst and Lewis was the one controlling the cork containing it all.
"Are you gonna make a mess for me?" With a hint of sarcasm in his tone, he inquired, knowing full well that you would botch the question, but he was only interested in hearing you try to formulate an answer. You nodded with a plethora of pleads and his name leaving your mouth.
You know that I'm grown and I'm 'bout it
While your pussy gushing and clenching was a sight he'd never want to miss, Lewis looked at your face, noting all the little expressions that took over.
Spreading your legs further as much as you could, you propped one up with your foot resting flat on the mattress, pushing your cunt closer to Lewis until his nose nudged your clit.
Feeling the perfect pressure of the bridge of his nose brushing against your clit, you couldn't help but grind against it. While you were busy chasing the pleasure, wanting to reach over the edge, Lewis re-entered two of his fingers in your warm, inviting cunt.
And I know what to do witcha body
When you heard him say, "cum for me," the bubbling energy bursted, sending a reliving coarse heat throughout your body while your moans echoed in the room. Your pussy clenched around his fingers as your cum seeped out of your hole.
Lewis was desperate to taste it, greedy for it even, so he pulled away his fingers and pushed his tongue deep so he could taste every bit of your sweet release.
Revelling in the post orgasmic bliss, you sighed, still feeling Lewis' tongue gently running through your folds as your heartbeat returns to a normal rhythm.
Every single time that you drop it
He pressed a kiss on your clit that caused you to buck up your hips, but he quickly soothed it with another kiss to your inner thigh. He could've stayed between your legs for hours, just soaking up your distinctive taste, but his own throbbing cock needed attention.
Specifically, attention that was either provided by your tight pussy, or your warm and talented mouth. He couldn't decide just yet, so he inched up your body and ignored his own release to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.
His arms wrapped around your waist and rolled over, finding that he preferred you on top of him. "We're not done yet, baby, come ride me." His words elicited a smirk from you, shuffling to prepare yourself to sink down on his cock, knowing it would be a long, pleasurable night.
Trust me I know what to do with it
Taglist (based on the form): @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @llando4norris @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @jointhehunt67 @sya-skies
#di celebrates#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton fic#thef1diary fic#f1 imagines#f1 smut#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#smut
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𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐
synopsis. Pregnancy, usually a positive outcome of love between two partners that love each other deeply. But Pregnancy resulting from someone using you for their own pleasure is far from a positive outcome
+ warning/content. bully Gojo Satoru x female reader - reader is pregnant - mentions of abortion - mature themes/MDNI - usual warnings - suguru and reader are siblings - gojo is a fuckboy - angst angst angst:))
+ word count. 4.9k
a/n. Been a while since i‘ve updated this series…
<-previous - series mlist - next->
As your mother and father stormed out of your room, they slammed the door with a force that rattled the walls, leaving you alone with your brother in the suffocating silence that followed. The finality of that door slamming shut felt like an ominous punctuation—a statement that there was no turning back.
You stood frozen, your heart pounding so loudly that it drowned out the echo of their footsteps retreating down the hall. A knot tightened in your throat as the weight of their words crashed over you, a tidal wave of shame and dread. You forced yourself to take deep, steady breaths, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. The last thing you wanted was for your brother to see you like this—vulnerable, broken, on the verge of falling apart.
Is that it? you wondered, panic clawing at your insides. Is this really it? Am I actually getting kicked out? The thought left you feeling hollow, like everything you had ever counted on had been stripped away in a single, merciless instant.
Your mind raced, leaping to thoughts of your future—or what little was left of it. Everything you’d worked for, everything you’d dreamed of, felt like it was slipping through your fingers, unraveling faster than you could piece it back together. You could see the edges of your life falling away. Your education, your home, the support you once took for granted. All of it was disappearing, leaving only the stark reality of an uncertain path ahead.
You clenched your hands, digging your nails into your palms to anchor yourself, trying to stave off the wave of despair building inside you. It felt like your world was caving in, each piece of your carefully planned life crumbling in a way that seemed beyond repair.
Your brother shifted beside you, breaking the silence as he cleared his throat, his face etched with worry. He reached out a tentative hand, hovering as if unsure whether to comfort you or respect the fragile space you’d created between yourself and your emotions.
Your brother’s hand finally found your shoulder, his touch gentle but grounding. His silence spoke louder than words, and for a moment, it was all you could rely on. Even though he didn’t know what to say, his presence gave you something solid to hold onto in the midst of the chaos unraveling inside you.
“You don’t have to leave,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’re just… angry. They’ll come around. Maybe if we just talk to them tomorrow, things will calm down.”
You shook your head, the harsh reality already settling into place. “No, Suguru.. you heard them. They were serious. They want me gone.”
He looked down, his brows knitted together in frustration. “But where will you go? You can’t just… be out there by yourself.” The helplessness in his voice mirrored your own fear, but even he didn’t have a solution.
You glanced around your room—the bed you’d grown up in, the books you’d loved and underlined, the photos on the wall capturing fragments of happier moments, times when things were simpler, manageable. Each item felt like a piece of the life you were about to lose, like a museum of memories that would soon be locked away from you forever.
The silence between you and your brother grew heavy, and as much as you wanted to break it, words failed you. What could you say? That you’d made a mistake? That you hadn’t meant for any of this to happen? (You hadn‘t) But they all sounded hollow, too small to carry the weight of what you were facing.
Finally, your brother spoke, his voice determined. “You don’t have to do this alone. We’ll figure something out. You can live at my apartment—until you have a plan, at least. I don‘t really use it, so don‘t worry. I’ll help you. Whatever you need, I’ll be here.”
His words offered a sliver of hope, but even as you nodded, uncertainty lingered. You knew your brother meant well, but deep down, you both understood how complicated it would be for him to go against your parents’ wishes. They’d raised him with the same expectations, the same rules—and while his heart was with you, his loyalty was torn.
But still, the idea of having somewhere to go, even if only temporarily, softened the blow just enough for you to breathe.
“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, but your gratitude was genuine. You reached for him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. The hug was the only comfort you had at that moment, the only thing anchoring you against the overwhelming feeling of loss and uncertainty.
After a long silence, he pulled back slightly, his face determined. “Go pack a few things. Whatever you need tonight. We’ll get out of here quietly. I’ll take care of the rest.”
-
Gojo leaned back in his chair, the squeak of the metal legs against the floor barely audible over the low murmur of his classmates. He absentmindedly tapped a pen against his notebook, the rhythmic click-click of it matching the unease simmering in his chest. His gaze drifted out the classroom window, where the afternoon sun cast long shadows on the pavement. It had been weeks since he’d last seen you, and that last encounter in the classroom felt like it had happened yesterday, every moment still vividly etched in his mind.
He recalled the way the quiet hum of the school’s empty corridors amplified every sound—the soft, breathy gasps you made, the rush of your breathing as he pressed you against the cool surface of the wall. It was intoxicating, each detail replaying in his head like a film on repeat. But oddly enough, it pained him that he hadn’t seen you since then.
At first, he shrugged it off, convincing himself that you were just playing hard-to-get or perhaps needed some space after everything that had happened. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for someone to need time to collect themselves after an encounter with him— he had that effect on people. But as the days turned into weeks, that initial dismissal turned into a dull, nagging worry that gnawed at him.
Gojo tried to push the thoughts aside, telling himself that you’d show up eventually, that it was just a phase. But your absence had created an odd emptiness in his daily routine, a persistent itch he couldn’t quite scratch. He was used to you being there, your presence a strange but comforting constant, and now that comfort was replaced with a gnawing curiosity.
Then there was Suguru, your brother, whose steady presence at school made everything feel even stranger. He carried on with his day as though nothing had changed, greeting Gojo with his usual casual indifference, yet he never mentioned you. Gojo found himself watching Suguru more closely than he intended, searching for any hint or sign that might explain your absence. He could feel the itch of curiosity clawing at him, but part of him resisted asking outright. He didn’t want to seem like he cared too much, but every time he spotted Suguru without you, that curiosity intensified.
Had something happened to you? Did you get sick? Or had you simply decided to avoid him? The thought was uncomfortably unsettling, and he brushed it aside, frustrated with himself for even considering it.
It was frustrating. Gojo couldn’t quite understand why you were occupying so much of his mind. At first, he tried to blame it on Suguru—your brother was a constant reminder of you, after all—but he’d grown accustomed to that long ago. It wasn’t like him to fixate on anyone, especially someone who usually melted into the background. And yet, here he was, replaying that last encounter in his mind, scanning hallways, and lingering just a bit longer outside your classes, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.
He could chalk it up to boredom, a simple distraction to stave off the monotony of his day-to-day life. But deep down, he knew that there was something more than that. The thrill of teasing you, the way your face would scrunch up in irritation when he pushed you down in the hallways—it was strangely addictive. You had become his little victim, a source of amusement that made the slow days feel bearable. Now that you were gone, it left a void he couldn’t fill.
He hated admitting it, but he missed picking on you. The thought made his jaw clench, and a twisted grin crept across his face. Maybe he’d overestimated his hold over you, convinced that you would always be there for him to mess with. Or perhaps this was some kind of game you were playing, deliberately making him feel your absence, and it annoyed him even more.
Days continued to pass without a sign of you, and then, one morning, Suguru didn’t show up to school. Gojo was caught off guard by the emptiness in the usual spots where he’d see his friend. Normally, Suguru was as dependable as clockwork, always showing up right on time, effortlessly composed and ready to move through the day. Gojo couldn’t help but feel a strange twist in his stomach, wondering if something had happened. Maybe Suguru’s absence was tied to yours?
When Suguru finally returned the next day, he looked…off. His usually neat hair was slightly disheveled, his clothes a bit rumpled. There was an exhausted heaviness in his steps, and dark shadows under his eyes made him look as though he hadn’t slept all night. Gojo’s eyes followed him as he trudged through the school halls, quieter than usual, avoiding small talk and slipping into his seat without so much as a glance at anyone.
It was unlike Suguru to be this way. He barely looked up during the lunch break, barely mumbled a response when someone tried to talk to him. And Gojo could feel the unspoken weight hanging over him like a shadow—an air of tension, of something strained and unresolved. It made Gojo’s curiosity burn even stronger, a gnawing need to know what had happened.
But when Gojo finally approached him, Suguru only glanced up, his gaze tired and distant, and muttered a soft, “Not today, Satoru.” There was a finality in his tone, a closed-off energy that Gojo hadn’t seen before. It was clear that Suguru was carrying something heavy, something he wasn’t ready—or willing—to share.
And somehow, that only made his thoughts drift back to you. The emptiness left by your absence grew sharper, more pointed, and with it came a sinking feeling that whatever was happening with Suguru…was connected to you.
Gojo scoffed, shaking his head at himself as he tried to push thoughts of you aside. Why was he even letting you get to him? It wasn’t like him to dwell on anyone, let alone someone who’d gone MIA after a single hookup. He had more important things to think about—better distractions to keep himself entertained. Besides, if you were going to play hard-to-get or whatever this was, then that was on you.
With a lazy smirk, he glanced around the classroom, letting his gaze settle on a few familiar faces. Plenty of girls would kill for his attention— he didn’t need to waste any more time thinking about you. He’d spent weeks hoping for some sign of you, but maybe it was time he reminded himself of how easy it was to move on.
After class, he slipped out of the room, his stride slow and confident as he scanned the hallways. Within minutes, he found what he was looking for—an upperclassman lingering by her locker, eyeing him with a coy smile. He’d seen her around before, noticed the way her gaze lingered whenever he passed by.
Perfect.
With a quick sweep of his hair, he put on that easy charm, the one that always drew people in, and walked over, leaning casually against the lockers beside her. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Long day?”
The girl blinked, caught off guard for a second before her lips curled into a smile. “Not anymore,” she replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
Gojo grinned, already shifting into the familiar rhythm of flirting that he knew so well. Within moments, they were leaning close, sharing secretive whispers and low laughs, her hand resting on his arm as she hung onto every word he said. He had a way of making them feel special, as if they were the only person in the world. He knew exactly what to say, how to let his gaze linger just long enough to make them squirm.
As he let the conversation drift into something more suggestive, he found himself glancing around, almost instinctively, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of you walking by. He mentally cursed himself for it, forcing himself to focus on the girl in front of him, but there was still that nagging sense of dissatisfaction. Even though he had her wrapped around his finger, it didn’t feel quite the same. She was willing, easy, and there was no thrill, no challenge. It felt…hollow.
For a moment, he wondered if this was just another way to forget you, a way to scratch an itch that wasn’t going away as easily as he’d hoped. The idea bothered him, and he dismissed it as quickly as it came. You didn’t matter—he was Gojo Satoru. He had girls practically throwing themselves at him every day. There was no reason he should be hung up on you.
-
The apartment was quiet—too quiet. Days slipped by in a gray monotony as you tried to settle into a space that felt as foreign as a stranger’s closet. There was nothing in the room that felt like you, just the sparse furniture your brother had left behind: a sagging couch with sunken cushions, a bed pushed awkwardly against the wall, and a handful of mismatched kitchen items. There were no family photos, no cozy blankets, not even a single potted plant to add life to the place. It was a hollow shell, his empty, seldom-used apartment, and now it was yours—a place to hide, but far from a home.
When you first came here, you thought you might be able to reach out, maybe even find comfort in a friend’s familiar voice. But the silence on the other end of the line grew heavier with each unanswered message. Some of your texts were left unread, others were marked “seen” and ignored. You’d started to convince yourself that somehow, they knew. They had to know about your mistake, your situation, and it was easier for them to turn away than to get involved. You could almost imagine their silent judgment, the whispers they might share when you weren’t around.
You felt backed into a corner, as if the world had abandoned you just when you needed it most. The shame felt insurmountable, an invisible wall that stopped you from trying again, that convinced you this loneliness was what you deserved.
You could barely feel it —the life inside you, growing silently, quietly, but undeniably there. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself resting a hand on your stomach without even realizing, feeling for something that wasn’t quite there yet, but knowing soon it would be. A thousand questions swirled in your mind. What kind of life would this child have? Would they hate you for the world you brought them into, for the choices you’d made that they would have to live with? The thought was like a chill running through your veins, paralyzing and real in a way nothing else was.
Then, late at night, as the hours stretched out, other thoughts would creep in—thoughts you tried to push away, but that stubbornly returned. Abortion. You felt the word like a weight in your chest, a tightness that you couldn’t swallow, but that was always there. In the dead silence of the apartment, you sometimes let yourself entertain the thought, if only for a moment, thinking how much easier it might be to turn away from this path. But then the guilt would wash over you, sinking deeper with every beat of your heart. It was a decision you couldn’t bring yourself to make, no matter how overwhelming everything felt.
You weren’t even sure you could hold your own life together, let alone bring another one into it. You hated feeling so trapped, as though every choice led to pain, no matter what you did. The idea of being a mother, of taking on this monumental responsibility, filled you with a dread that was hard to admit. It was as if each new day only added to a burden you were too afraid to carry yet too scared to set down. The future felt murky and shadowed, a looming unknown that swallowed up every glimmer of hope.
Sometimes, you’d find yourself standing by the window, gazing down at the quiet, dimly lit street below, lost in thoughts of an alternate life. What would it feel like to walk away from all this weight, to leave the fear and uncertainty behind? You let yourself imagine it—a life where you were free again, unburdened. But even as the fantasy flickered in your mind, there was a small, stubborn part of you that held on, that whispered maybe. Maybe you could carry this through. Maybe, despite everything, you could find a way to make this work.
To keep yourself grounded, you tried to build a routine. Every morning, you’d scroll through endless job listings, though each one felt like a reminder of the uncertainty surrounding you. Most positions didn’t seem right or possible for you now, but you kept looking. It was something to hold onto, some kind of structure when everything else felt like it was slipping through your fingers. You even organized the sparse kitchen, setting up the cabinets with a kind of precise care, as if putting things in order on the outside could bring some calm to the chaos inside.
One evening, as you sat cross-legged on the couch, the hum of distant traffic barely filled the silence. You stared at your phone screen, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion. Loneliness settled over you, thick and heavy, amplified by the silence that had become so familiar. It was almost stifling, forcing you to confront thoughts you’d tried hard to avoid.
You missed your family, even if things between you had become strained. You missed the comforting predictability of home, the familiar sounds, the routine. Here, each day felt hollow and directionless, like floating in a fog with no sense of where you were headed. Sometimes, you’d sit there waiting, hoping for something to change, some sign that things would be okay, but the realization that it was entirely up to you weighed heavily.
A knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts, sharp and unexpected in the stillness. Your heart gave a nervous jump as you hesitated, then forced yourself to cross the room. The apartment was usually so quiet, every sound amplified in the emptiness, and this interruption felt almost intrusive. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you opened the door to see the mailman standing there, holding a small, official-looking envelope in his hand.
“Here you go. Have a nice day,” he said with a nod, handing it over before turning to leave.
You mumbled a thank-you, barely audible, closing the door slowly as you stared down at the envelope. The stiff paper, the way your name was printed in impersonal black ink—it all radiated a sense of cold formality that sent a wave of dread curling in your stomach. You tore it open with shaking hands, telling yourself it was probably just another notice, a formality from the school.
But as your eyes scanned the letter, a sickening realization washed over you. It wasn’t just a reminder or a request for information. It was a notification—a final, official statement that you’d been dropped from school because of unpaid tuition. Your parents had stopped covering your fees without any warning, leaving the balance unpaid. And because you hadn’t attended in weeks, the school had processed it as a withdrawal.
You read the words again, trying to make sense of them, as if they would change on a second pass. But they stayed the same, cold and unyielding, spelling out a reality you hadn’t prepared for. The letter offered no alternatives, no appeal. Either you somehow paid the balance yourself, or you would be permanently removed from the roster.
A numb disbelief settled over you as you sank onto the couch, clutching the letter tightly. They’d actually done it. They’d cut you off without a word, leaving you adrift, stripped of the one place you’d thought you could depend on. A mix of anger and hurt bubbled up inside you, but the betrayal was what stung the most.
Your mind raced, thoughts colliding in a frantic spiral. What would you do now? Leaving school meant giving up on so many things—dreams you’d quietly held onto, plans that seemed so certain not long ago. It was like everything you’d worked toward, every late night studying and early morning hustle, had been erased in an instant. This wasn’t just a setback— it felt like a wall you’d crashed into with no way around.
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you swallowed them back, forcing yourself to press your lips into a hard line. There was no one you could turn to for help, no one who could wave a magic wand and fix this.
You sat there on the couch, feeling the weight of the letter in your hand like a stone, its meaning sinking in deeper and deeper. The room seemed even colder, emptier, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. Every step you’d taken had been building toward something, and now that path was gone, wiped away in the span of a single letter.
No matter what mistakes you’d made, you’d never expected your own family to cut you off 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲. You wanted to scream, to call them, to make them hear you and see what they’d done—but that door felt closed too, like an argument already lost. The bitter realization settled in— of course they weren’t going to reach out- they weren’t going to help. Afterall, they were the ones that kicked you out in the first place.
You glanced down at your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen as you debated sending another message to one of your friends. Maybe you could explain everything, maybe they’d understand, maybe they’d reach back and give you a lifeline. But a familiar fear held you back. The weight of your situation, your mistake, felt too heavy to burden anyone else with, and every time you imagined reaching out, a voice in the back of your mind reminded you that they hadn’t been there for you before. Why would they be there now?
The silence in the apartment grew louder, pressing in on you until it was almost unbearable. Desperate for a distraction, you got up and wandered aimlessly through the small space, moving things around on the counter, straightening the already-neat cupboards, just doing anything to keep your hands busy. But the distraction was short-lived, and the reality of your situation crept back in.
The future felt terrifyingly empty, an open void where all your plans used to be. The only clear thing was that you had no other choice now but to figure this out on your own. Slowly, a stubborn resolve began to build beneath the panic. You were here, alone, but that didn’t mean you had to stay stuck. Maybe, somehow, you could make this work. You could find a job, save up, find a way to get back into school. It felt like an impossible task, but it was the only path left.
With a deep breath, you grabbed your laptop and opened up a job-search site, scrolling through the endless list of options. Most were dead ends—part-time retail or night shifts that didn’t even pay enough to cover the rent suguru is payinh. But you forced yourself to keep looking, moving through page after page, searching for anything that might be a start, a way forward.
The hours slipped by, the weight of the decision settling over you like a cold blanket, but you kept scrolling, kept hoping that something would spark the possibility of change.
After what felt like hours scrolling through listings and filling out applications, your eyes grew tired, the screen blurring in front of you. You needed air, space to breathe, to feel something other than the weight pressing down on your chest. With a sigh, you closed your laptop, abandoning it on the couch, and made your way over to the small balcony just off the living room.
Stepping outside, you were greeted by the crisp night air, a chill that wrapped around you, cutting through the dullness. The street below was quiet, dim streetlights casting long shadows across the empty pavement. Leaning against the railing, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the cold settle into your skin, grounding you, if only for a moment. The city felt vast from here, stretching out endlessly, full of people going about their lives, yet here you were, feeling like the only one left adrift.
As you opened your eyes, you gazed out over the neighborhood, the distant hum of cars a low, steady comfort. For a fleeting moment, you felt a strange sense of freedom, as if up here on this balcony, the problems inside couldn’t quite reach you. It was quiet, peaceful even, the world below carrying on, oblivious to your struggles.
You’d imagined such a different future, one where you’d be surrounded by friends, pursuing your passions, finding yourself. But now? It all felt like a distant memory, something that had happened to someone else entirely.
The sky above was cloudy, with only a few stars managing to peek through. You stared up, trying to find some kind of sign, something to remind you that you weren’t entirely alone, that maybe there was still a chance for things to change.
You stayed there a while, letting the cold numb the tension in your body, staring into the distance, thinking about what you’d do next. The thought of reaching out for help gnawed at you, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to take that step. Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was just the fear of rejection. Either way, you knew that whatever came next would be up to you.
Your gaze drifted downward, tracing the shapes of the buildings, the shadows cast by streetlights, when a familiar flash of white caught your eye. Your heart clenched involuntarily. Gojo.
He was strolling down the sidewalk, his stride as arrogant and carefree as ever, his laughter echoing faintly up toward you. His arm was draped around the shoulders of a girl who leaned into him, her face turned up toward him with a bright smile, entirely captivated. They looked close, intimate, like they were the only two people in the world. Watching them, a dull ache pulsed in your chest, stirring a cocktail of emotions you didn’t want to face.
You gripped the railing tighter, your knuckles whitening. Memories clawed their way up, memories of him—of his smirk, his mocking words, the way he’d cornered you like he had every right. Gojo had always been cruel, but he wielded his charm like a weapon, drawing people in only to watch them squirm when he showed his true colors. He had treated you the same way, toying with you, using you, and then discarding you without a second thought.
The girl beside him had no idea, you thought bitterly. She was seeing the Gojo who played his part so well, the smooth talker, the charmer, the boy who seemed like he could do no wrong. But you knew better. You knew what lay beneath that mask, the callousness he could hide behind his easy smiles. And now, there he was, laughing without a care, completely untouched by everything he’d done to you, while you were left to piece yourself back together.
A cold, bitter anger welled up inside you, mingling with the helplessness you tried so hard to ignore. He had stolen something from you—something you could never get back. He is the reason you got kicked out and have a hard life now.
And yet here he was, walking down the street as if nothing had happened, as if you didn’t exist, a careless reminder of how easily he’d been able to walk away from the pain he’d caused.
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﹟ ⠀ ⠀ 𝟎𝟎𝟏 ⠀ . ⠀ ⠀CUP OF COFFEE⠀ ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ anxious, overly critical! reader x college! ellie ⠀ ❫
⧽ ── college! ellie who fucks you whenever you're feeling stressed out and vulnerable after a lousy day cause she knows how in your head you get after making one tiny mistake. realization struck too late, and the mistake loomed large, leaving you in a whirlwind of regret. despite comforting words from everyone around you, including your supportive girlfriend, the weight of self-doubt crushes your spirit, making you feel like the ineptest person ever. instead of reassuring you with words you'll probably ignore so you can wallow in self-pity, she'll make sure to kiss up and down your neck, hands gently caressing your frame like you were the most delicate thing created.
your body will readily accept the onslaught of affections, desperate for anything to take your mind off of your racing thoughts. she'll lay you down on the couch, and slowly peel your top off your frame while you whine and moan for her to hurry up. your impatience has little effect on her as she pulls off your pants before moving to pull off her own. if you weren't in sucha dreary mood you would've paid the view more attention. she'll crawl on top of you before finding a place inches above your clit. your fingers instinctively finding her hips in hopes of hurrying this along only for her to grab your hands and pin them down on the couch. each time you tug at her grip, it tightens. never enough to hurt you, but enough to remind you of her hidden strength.
wetness pools between your legs, anticipation building between you until she finally...finally moves. her hips grind down and you finally feel the friction you've been longing for. your first thought is to moan, your own hips bucking at her rhythm. you're a victim to her pace, doing nothing more than taking any kind of pleasure she willingly gives you. your eyes droop, a pleasure buzzing through your body despite the heaviness in your chest. a part of you will demand more. faster. harder. almost akin to a punishment and she'll refuse you. each and every time until all the fight leaves your form.
"y/n" she'll whisper, emerald, green eyes gazing down at you with a gentleness that'll set your skin ablaze as her clit rubs against your own.
"yeah baby?" you gasp out , head lolled to the side in pleasure.
"you're so great."
you'll feel yourself shatter into a million fragments only to meticulously be resembled piece by piece with each soft-spoken word she utters.
PLUTOS WORLD: i have no idea why i can never use present tense whenever i use second pov. it feels like slam poetry rn sj. anyway had a bad day so
TAGLIST: @r3starttt @cyb3rdino @abyssgf @savethegoddamturtles
#* ⠀ / ⠀ 𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ mine ⠀ ❫ ⠀ * ⠀ ellie#─── ⠀ 🌺 ⠀ * ⠀ plutos works ⠀ !#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x black!reader
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