#had to do it for the reference. for the bit
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JACKED AND KIND NICO HISCHIER
pairing nico hischier x reader
SUMMARY you convince nico to do a tiktok trend, even if it’s a little out of his comfort zone. word count 0.7k
warnings pure fluff, fem!reader, use of y/n
note i hope you guys know what trend i'm referring too 😇
MAIN MASTERLIST NH13 MASTERLIST
IT STARTED WITH a lazy morning and the familiar routine of scrolling through TikTok. One particular trend kept popping up: boyfriends effortlessly lifting their girlfriends while Sabrina Carpenter’s “Slim Pickings” played at the line, “Jacked and kind.” It was sweet and oddly endearing.
You couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect that would be with Nico.
It wasn’t like the world didn’t already know about your relationship. Between games, post-practice dates, and subtle Instagram posts, it was all out there. A quick, harmless TikTok would be a fun way to keep things interesting.
You walked into the kitchen, still in your pyjamas. You were immediately hit with the smell of coffee and pancakes. Nico was standing at the counter in his sweats, carefully stirring sugar into his mug. His hair was messy from sleep, and his movements were slow and relaxed.
“Morning, liebe (love),” he greeted, glancing over his shoulder with a soft smile.
“Morning,” you replied, leaning against the doorframe. For a moment, you debated whether to bring up your idea. Nico was still half-asleep and probably enjoying the peace of a rare day off. Did you really want to disrupt that?
Then again, Nico always had a hard time saying no to you.
“So,” you started, dragging out the word as you stepped closer.
He turned, raising an eyebrow at you with a knowing look already on his face. “What’s that tone?”
“There’s this TikTok trend,” you explained, trying to sound casual.
He groaned softly, though his smile didn’t waver. “Of course, there is.”
“You’d just have to pick me up. Literally for two seconds,” you added quickly, holding up your hands like you were presenting a deal. “No weird costumes or anything. Just you being, you know, jacked and kind.”
Nico paused, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the counter. “And why do I feel like this will end with me looking like an idiot?”
“Because you’re dramatic,” you said playfully. “Come on, it’ll be cute!”
He sighed, shaking his head. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
“Pretty much.” You grinned, batting your eyelashes for good measure.
“Fine,” he relented, setting his mug down with a resigned laugh. “But only because I know you’ll keep bugging me until I say yes.”
“Thank you!” you exclaimed, already setting up your phone on the counter.
After breakfast, Nico followed through with the plan, though he grumbled a bit.
“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” he asked, running a hand through his hair as you positioned him in front of the camera.
“Obviously,” you replied, stepping back to check the angle. “Okay, so when I point, you just pick me up. Nice and smooth, like it’s nothing.”
“I’m a professional athlete, Y/N,” he said, smirking. “I think I can handle lifting my girlfriend.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth spreading across your cheeks. “Alright, Captain Confidence. Let’s see if you can back that up.”
The music started and the familiar beat of Sabrina Carpenter’s “Slim Pickings” filled the kitchen. You pointed right on cue, and before you could blink, Nico’s arms were around you. With a single motion, he lifted you off the ground like it was the easiest thing in the world, holding you securely on his shoulder.
“Jacked and kind,” you whispered, half-laughing as you wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
“Was that it?” he asked, his grin smug but soft. “That’s all you needed?”
You nodded, laughing. “Yup! Perfect! Put me down before I ruin it.”
He lowered you carefully, his hands lingering. “That’s it?” he repeated, tilting his head. “You were stressing about that?”
“It’s not about me. It’s about the aesthetic,” you shot back, picking up your phone to check the video.
The result was flawless. Nico looked effortlessly strong, the timing was perfect, and your quiet laugh at the end made it even better.
“See?” you said, holding the phone up for him to see. “Jacked and kind. TikTok is going to lose it.”
He shook his head, his cheeks faintly pink, but he was smiling. “As long as you’re happy, that’s what matters.”
“Always,” you teased, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
Though Nico pretended to roll his eyes, you knew he’d secretly check the comments later to see what fans were saying.
MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ NH13 MASTERLIST
#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier#nhl x reader#nhl fanfic#nhl imagine#nico hischier x you#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier fluff#nico hischier angst#nhl x you#nhl fic#nhl#hockey#✷ isaadore
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Unfortunately my brain is too foggy right now to contribute much to this discussion, even though physique magazines & films are arguably the most significant inspiration for the artwork I do, but I can at least give newbies a very basic rabbit hole to start with.
Bob Mizer promoted his magazine (just one of many physique mags, but one of the most culturally important) as reference material for artists - basically a catalog of models they could hire, for art purposes. Strictly for art! And if one wanted to see more of these fine examples of male beauty, one could order short films through the magazine as well. As time progressed & laws loosened, the mags became a little bit more honest about their purpose. By 1969 they had switched to fully nude photographs (prior to this, models were photographed wearing a "posing strap" to hide the genitals - these were sewn & sold by Mizer's mother). Physique Pictorial was published from 1951 through all the way to 1990, with a few gaps, most notably 1968 when Mizer went to prison on charges of running a prostitution ring.
Alan Parker, Joe Leitel and Bruce Reed Ben-Hurry (1959) dir. Richard Fontaine
#sorry im too tired to think of more to say#but yeah the hays code only applied to legit films shown in legit theaters#there has always been & will always be pornography
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Room for One More?
Chapter 9
Summary: Secrets are revealed on New Years Eve.
CW: Alcohol consumption, sexual references, mention of cigarettes, swearing, lots of drama.
Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8
--
"YOU SLEPT WITH SIRIUS?!"
"Shh! Mary keep your voice down," you uttered, looking around to see how many of your coworker's heads had swivelled towards you in response to Mary's loud exclamation.
"Sorry," she grimaced. "I'm just.. I'm in shock."
You sighed and leaned back where you were perched on the corner of her desk. "I think I am a bit as well."
There was a pause.
"Well, was it good?"
"Mary! Oh my god!" you groaned and threw a hand over your face to hide your mortification.
"What? I'm just asking. I can't say that I haven't imagined it once or twice myself-"
You slapped her gently across the shoulder with the back of your hand. "You're distrubed. You know that?"
She smirked. "You know you love me."
You rolled your eyes affectionately at your friend. "Anyway, we'd been drinking and it was Christmas and we were having such a wonderful time. I think we just got swept up in it all and now I don't know what to do. Things have been kind of... weird between us."
"Well have you guys talked about it?" Mary inquired.
"That's the thing. Afterwards he just kind of moved on like it never happened. I don't know if he thinks it was a mistake or something but it's stressing me out."
"Hmm," a thoughtful look crossed Mary's face as she took everything in. "Well how are you feeling about it? Do you think it was a mistake?"
You bit the inside of your cheek. "No? I-I don't think so. I dont know."
A look of realisation washed over Mary's face. "Do you like him??"
"I mean, of course I like him. I'm just not sure I like like him."
Your friend sighed exasperatedly. "Oh my god! We're not in Primary School, just answer the damn question!"
"Fine! I guess the answer is... yes?" you sighed. "But whatever! Does it even make a difference? He's made it exceptionally clear that he doesn't feel the same way."
"Look," Mary huffed, her expression growing sincere. "Sirius is great. He's fun and friendly and a total flirt but he's also been known to be a little emotionally constipated. Just be honest with him. Talk to him about it. He's not going to be able to pick up on any signals you're trying to send him."
You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a breath throught your nose. "Ugh fine."
"Good girl," Mary smiled. "Now go away. I actually have some work to get done today."
"Oh fine. I suppose I know when I'm not wanted," you teased, getting up and walking back towards your desk.
"Love you!" Mary called lightheartedly as you walked away.
"Yeah, yeah," you joked in response.
As you arrived back at your desk and slumped down in your chair, prepared to get back to work, a head peaked down at you over the cubical.
"Oh, you're back, I see."
You jumped slightly at the unexpected voice and looked up to see its perpertrator.
"Yes, Glenn. Hi. Is there anything I can help you with?"
Glenn was a new employee in your office and he sat in the cubical opposite yours. He was only a few years older than you and he was tall and fit with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. In the few weeks you'd known him for, he'd been particularly friendly towards you and recently you'd been getting the idea that he had taken a liking to you.
You weren't interested of course. He was an attractive guy but not really your type. And with everything going on with Sirius over the last week, you'd been making a effort to put some distance between you. You definitely weren't looking for anything of that nature right now and you didn't want to give him the wrong impression. However, Glenn was nothing if not persistant.
"Actually, I was just wondering if you had any plans for new years tonight? A few of my mates are throwing a party and you're welcome to join us if you're interested."
You sent him you're most empathetic smile. "That sounds lovely but unfortunately I already have some plans with my friends."
He sighed, flashing you a grin that looked suspiciously rehearsed. "Oh well. No problem. It was worth a shot. You have fun tonight."
"You too, Glenn."
As the man dissapeared back over the divider, you let out a heafty sigh. Tonight was surely going to be interesting.
--
The view was impeccable from the bar where your friends had gathered to spend New Years. In fact, seated beside a huge floor to ceiling window, you suspected you'd have a clear view of the New Years fireworks.
It was a classy joint, one that Dorcas had managed to get you access to through one of her fancy lawyer contacts.
Everyone was assembled on stools around a table, looking out over the London skyline. It was about four hours until midnight and the group was chatting excitedly in the lead up.
"I've got shots!" Mary called out and everyone cheered as she returned to the table with a tray.
She passed the drinks around and then took her seat beside you.
"Well, I suggest a toast!" James called out, grabbing the attention of the group. "To a wonderful year ahead, and many more memories with old, and new, friends!"
He emphasised the last line with a pointed look in your direction and you felt your cheeks growing hot.
"Cheers!" Marlene shouted enthusiastically and the others echoed her sentiments, clinking glasses and swallowing their drinks.
The burning of the liquor was welcomed as the drink ran down your throat. You'd been thinking a lot about what Mary had said to you in regards to your situation with Sirius. And as he sat beside you, laughing animatedly at one of Peter's stories, it only confirmed your worst fears. Maybe you were starting to develop feelings for your roommate. You grimaced at the thought. Things were bound to get messy in situations like this.
"So guys," Sybil piped up from across the table. "Let's all go around and say our New Years resolutions."
"Oh, I'll go first!" James volunteered. "I hope my team continues to play a great season annnddd... I want to work out more."
There was a collective groan.
"Come on, James. That's not a real one!" Mary complained.
Sirius chuckled, taking a pointed sip of his drink. "Yeah! You already work out like 7 times a day!"
"Ugh, okay fine!" James responded with groan. He thought for a moment. "How about this one. I'd like to fall in love this year."
You didn't miss the way his eyes flickered across the table towards Lily and you felt your heart sink. Lily seemed to take notice a well as she averted her eyes, taking a heafty gulp of the drink in her hand.
"Aww, James. Always the romantic, aren't you?" Marlene chuckled.
"Shut up." James rolled his eyes playfully. "Your turn then, Marls."
"Okay," She took a deep breath. "My goal this year is to become super rich and famous and sucessful."
"I second that!" Mary called across the table and you giggled as they clinked their glasses.
"Y/n. Your turn," Dorcas announced.
"Oh okay, um..." you thought for a moment, your gaze flashing to James and Remus across the table, then over to Sirius, who was watching you expectanly, a playlful glimmer in his stormy eyes.
You then looked back towards the rest of the group. "This year, I'd like to spend some more time with you lovely people."
A round of cooing echoed across the table and Mary threw her arms around you.
"Well aren't you just the sweetest!"
"Oh, and I'd like to work more on my novel," you added.
"Alright, alright. Sirius, you're up!" Marlene chimed.
The boy beside you pursed his lips, looking off into the distance as if deep in thought. Then, after a long moment, he turned back to all of you with a mischievous smirk on his lips.
"This year, I want to have lots of amazing sex!"
"Ew. Sirius, you're so foul," Lily exclaimed, followed by a symphany of similar sentiments from the other members of the group.
While everyone else was distracted, grumbling and groaning about Sirius' bluntness, the man leaned down towards you.
"You look great tonight, by the way." He whispered into your hair.
You gulped thickly, not quite sure what to do with yourself. You opted for downing the remainder of your Vodka, Lime and Soda.
--
As the evening drew on, you found yourself growing more anxious in Sirius' presence. You weren't quite sure what his game was, whether it was the alcohol or he was just feeling extra bold tonight, but he'd been suspiciously flirtatious.
You didn't know how to respond. Part of you wanted to let him. To let him woo you and go crawling back for more of what you'd had together on Christmas Night. However, the other, more logical part of you, told you that was a terrible idea. He was your roommate afterall. The last thing you wanted was to start some complicated friends-with-benefits situation with a guy you lived with, especially one that you had sort of, maybe, possibly had caught feelings for.
You downed another drink, feeling the alcohol grip you and hoped it would help to ease the nerves ever so slightly. You realised then, that you were staring.
Sirius had gone to the bar to order another round of drinks and you'd been watching with bated breath as he sent his signature smile to a girl wearing an explicitly tight black dress. You noticed the way she leaned forward, pressing her cleavage up against the bar as she spoke to him. God, could she be anymore obvious?
"Calm the hell down, y/n!" You thought to yourself. "It's not like you guys are together. He can flirt with whoever he wants."
"Hey, are you okay?" you raked your eyes away from the scene as a voice came from beside you.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," You muttered absently, too distracted to notice that it was Remus who asked the question.
"Okay, never have I ever... made out with more than one person on the same night!" Mary's voice rang out and you forced your attention back to the group.
You weren't sure when this game had begun but you suspected it was suggested by one of the girls (likely Mary or Marlene) as a way to pass the final hour until midnight. You hadn't participated in this game since probably highschool, but you were all a few drinks in at this point so you figured, what the hell?
You watched as Marlene, James and Dorcas all took a sip. Then Lily sent Mary a pointed look.
"Come on, Mary. That's not how the game works. You have to say something you haven't done."
"I haven't!" Mary responded. Then she paused. "Oh wait, yeah I definitely have."
Everyone chuckled as she took a drink.
"Alright! Dorcas! Your turn." Mary nudged the girl in the side.
Dorcas rolled her eyes. "For the record, I just want to say, I think this game is stupid."
"Come on babe. Don't be a party pooper!" Marlene exclaimed, leaning in towards her girlfriend. "How else are we supposed to learn everyone's deepest darkest secrets."
Dorcas sighed and shook her head but there was a hint of a smile on her face. She really could never say no to Marlene.
"Ugh, fine. Never have I ever stolen something."
"Well that's a hard one," Mary muttered. "What do we count as stealing? Because I've stolen stuff from James a ton of times."
"Oi!" James shouted, looking positively affronted. Mary sent him an apologetic smile.
"No, not like that," Dorcas clarified. "It had to have been from an actual shop."
You all sat up straight for a moment, curiously looking around the group to see if anyone had. Hesitantly, Peter lifted his glass to his lips.
"Pete! What the hell!" James exclaimed.
"I don't know, I went through a phase in highschool!"
"What sort of stuff did you take?" Marlene pressed.
Peter shrugged. "Chocolate and ciggarettes, mostly."
There was an eruption of laughter that rippled across the table at Peter's revelation.
"Wow, I didn't know there was a degenerate among us," Lily teased, watching Peter's face flush bright red.
"Okay, okay. My turn!" Marlene said, once the laughter died down. "Never have I ever... gotten really sloshed and fallen down the stairs at my 18th birthday party"
"Hey! That's not fair!" James moaned, taking a sip of his beer. "You can't do targeted ones!"
Marlene just shrugged. "Sorry, but I don't think that was established in the rules."
James smirked. "Fine then! Never have I ever had sex with someone at this table."
Your blood ran cold for a moment as you glanced back towards the bar. You sighed in relief when you saw that Sirius was still over there. In that case, you technically hadn't slept with anyone at the table. You were off the hook for now.
Marlene rolled her eyes at James and took a drink, as well as Dorcas, Peter and Sybil, however, you watched James' eyes widen as Mary also took a long sip.
"Mary!" Lily hissed across the table. Your heart plummeted.
"What?" Mary shrugged, the alcohol clearly having gone to her head. "We have to! It's the rules."
"Wait! Hold on," Marlene murmered, her eyes drifting between the two girls. "Did you guys..."
There was a heavy anticipatory silence that hung over the table as you all awaited Lily's response. The girl grimaced, as she tried to muster some kind of explanation.
It was then that her eyes drifted up to meet James' pleading ones.
"Lily?" the boy asked softly. Your heart broke for him.
"So I guess the cat's out of the bag huh?" the girl sighed. "Mary and I have sort of been seeing each other. Romantically."
"Holy shit!" Marlene shouted, candid and straight to the point as she usually was in these situations.
"How long has this been going on?" Dorcas questioned.
"It's still really new," Lily explained.
"We were just trying to figure out the right time to tell you guys," Mary added.
"So you're the one Mary has been seeing?" James murmered.
"Yes," Lily responded. "I'm sorry James but you had to know it was never going to work out between us."
The boy sighed, running a hand through his unruly curls. "Yeah, I know."
Then he started to stand. "I think I just need some air for a minute."
"James, wait-" Remus reached out to grab his arm but James shook him off.
"I just need minute," he repeated, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair and hurrying towards the exit. Part of you wanted to go after him but the other part recognised that he probably needed some space to process things.
"Sorry, everyone. I didn't mean to ruin the night," Mary murmered folornly.
"No hun! you didn't ruin anything," you comforted.
"Yeah, we're really happy for you two," Dorcas added.
"Really?"
Everyone nodded.
"Absolutely. You both deserve to be happy," Remus confirmed.
Wide smiles crossed over the girls' faces.
--
It was two minutes until midnight and Sirius was nowhere to be seen. Despite your better judgement, you couldn't help but feel slightly disapointed. You supposed that there was some small aspect of your mind that hoped Sirius would be your New Years kiss.
You knew it was wishful thinking, especially when you hadn't even spoken about what happened between you, but with how he'd been acting towards you throughout the night, you'd allowed yourself to nurture that flicker of hope.
As people crowded around the window and the countdown began, you found your eyes searching the room for the dark haired man, wondering if just maybe, he'd make a last minute appearance.
"Five, four, three, two..."
You scanned the space one last time.
"One!"
You're last flicker of hope died out as your eyes finally landed on his form.
"Happy New Year!"
The shouts and cheers faded into the background as you watched Sirius press his lips to those of the boob-y blonde you'd seen him flirting with before.
The moment seemed to go in slow motion. You watched from afar as he tangled his hand in her hair, just as he'd done in yours only a week prior.
"Of course," you thought. "Typical"
It was Sirius Black you were talking about. You were stupid to think you meant anything more to him than a casual night of fun.
In an instant, you turned on your heel and walked towards the door, the sounds of the party fading into the background. You decided, instead of bumming around waiting for Sirius to notice you, you'd go look for James, just as you should've done much earlier.
The cold hit you like a block of cement as you stepped outside onto the street. It didn't take you long to find him.
He was sitting on the curb, outside of he bar, arms resting on his knees as he looked up towards the sky. Another explosion sounded and a flash of colour filled the air. In the distance, you could hear the cheers of excited people all around as they celebrated.
"Happy New Year, James."
He turned to look at you and in the flash of light, as another firework flickered across the sky, you were able to notice the faint tear tracks that lined his cheeks.
"Oh hey." he sniffled, rubbing a hand beneath his glasses and trying to regain a semblance of composure.
BANG!
You flopped unceremoniously onto the ground beside him as another flash filled the sky. You gave him a sympathetic smile. Funnily enough, in that moment, you knew exactly how he felt.
"Are you okay?" You asked him gently.
He let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah. I will be."
BANG!
"Good."
You both turned your gazes back to the display, taking in the beautiful array of colours filling the air. It wasn't quite the view you'd expected for the night, but somehow, that didn't seem to matter.
As you continued to watch the fireworks, you felt the gentle touch of a hand wrapping around your own. You smiled slightly as your fingers intertwined.
BANG!
Slowly, you shuffled closer and leaned into him, gently resting your head on James broad shoulder.
You stayed like that a while, just taking in the show, and each other's company.
--
Taglist:
@hisparentsgallerryy @navs-bhat @shushbruv @magicwithaknife @eeviee4 @notapoetjustscar @gugggu6gvai @robertsmithclone @ilovesugurugeto69 @taytayy178 @its-notkiee @bugworldsworld @switchingfandomslikecrazy @evangelquill, @delusional-4-fake-people, @ch4rlotte35, @insideoutjulie, @hiireadstuff, @laniirackssss, @starrystormwritings, @strategicsweetheart, @1800brat, @sammyreid, @frootloops1213, @ill-be-okay-soon-enough
#marauders#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter x reader#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#poly!marauders x reader#marauders au
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HII!!
could we please get some kang dae ho x reader??
something where he’s a bit of his usual himbo self and the reader is maybe a bit airheaded— something about two people being in love with one another while the world around them is burning is amazing.
~Flowers in December~
<3 Kang Dae Ho x Reader
requested 💌
authors note: i am amazed by the amount of requests and also so flattered!! I am so happy to get back into writing not only for myself but to be able to make other people happy to see their ideas come to life!! i apologize if this has some flaws i cant wait to get more practice in and promise the next will be better!! feedback is always appreciated! thank you all so much!!<3 -matcha
~~~~~~~~~~~⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆~~~~~~~~~~~
...
~takes place during the second night~
"we should all take turns keeping watch over the group" player 456 urged as the warning for lights out echoed throughout the room, the rest of the group silently agreeing- trusting the man who claimed to have been in one of the previous games, leaving as the sole survivor. you were, as were many others, reluctant to believe that he had done all of this before, but after his help in the first game and joining his team for the second, you grew to trust him; and the other members of your group. the man that had been assigned your partner for keeping watch was coincidentally a member you were drawn to specifically- at first because he was close to your age, his boyish face making you feel a little less scared and alone in the second game, and eventually you appreciated his outward personality and kindhearted confidence, a stark contrast to the situation you both were in. as you sat together, although trying to protect your group from whatever could happen in the dark room, you felt even safer. "how in the world did you pull that off?" you broke the silence with a whisper, referring to him playing gonggi in the previous game. "my hands were shaking so badly i could barely even hold my ddakji." he laughs, a bit louder than he should have given the people sleeping, but it made you smile. "i told you all i played with my sisters!" he chuckles. "you said you know how to do it yeah," you retorted, stifling a giggle at him being unaware of the compliment. "you didn't tell us you were amazing at it, that was a surprise." he turns away, embarrassed of how deeply your compliment made him grin and scared you'd see him blushing even in the dark. "thank you y/n." he says bashfully as he regains his composure. the silence returns; the reality of where you're both having this conversation threatening to creep back in. his gaze softens as he turns to you again, "you did really well with your ddakji you know, doing it the first try is really impressive, especially given the circumstances." you smile, a toothy grin as not only are you proud of yourself but you appreciate the compliment; especially from him. the kind, authentic way he states how good you did has you unable to find a response. "t-thank you" you say, blushing and still smiling. "it helped that nobody was there, i get nervous when people are watching me." his demeanor changes. he nervously runs his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry if i made you nervous, y/n" he says sincerely. your confusion shows on your face until you realize what he means. "oh no don't worry! i meant the crowd, like how everybody was cheering for the other teams! i didn't want them all to see if i messed up. you watching me helped actually. it made me less nervous." the silence returns; comfortingly. you've forgotten where you are, you've forgotten what would have happened if you'd messed up, all that's on your mind is the man sitting next to you. when you look back he's staring at you. smiling. "thank you for being on my team." you say to him as he turns away, trying to hide how long he was looking at you. you've never seen him speechless before. "if we work together nothing can stand in our way." he said to you just as he said to jung bae before the game. "i am truly honored you feel that way." you half-joke. "what are your plans for tomorrow?" you ask as if youre speaking to him in a normal situation. "oh wait im sorry!" you laugh. "well i bet they're the same as mine then!" you joke about your forgetfulness as well as making light of where you find yourself. like hes done for you, he also had forgotten the events of the day and what followed tomorrow. the two of you talking made him feel as though he was living a good, normal day. it was greatly appreciated by him, your bubbly nature being a moment of solace.
a/n if this is buns at all please lmk what i can do better!!! ⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆
#squid game x reader#dae ho#dae ho x reader#player 388 x reader#kang dae ho x reader#kang dae ho#squid game#squid game season 2
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untethered⁴ | e.w
00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader
wc: 11.3k
series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four (you’re here!)
blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.
cw: +18 CONTENT, lmao flip phones, r and ellie NOT beating the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, afab anatomy mentioned, vulgar language, some angst (not on ellie’s watch tho), fuckgirl!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink 2.0), r and ellie conspiring, more horndog ellie, porn w plot ig, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is still very jealous of cat, hella angst, ellie has a landing strip ;), emotional cheating (from ellie), maria doesn’t play w r, repressed emotions, SMUT (r and ellie fuck nasty), dryhumping (underrated af), fingering, tribbing/scissoring, oral (e! receiving), titty sucking, little bit of dirty talk (not much because i’m shit at it), sub!top!ellie (?), dom!bottom!reader (?), they flip flop you guys idk.
note: i swear i can’t write smut for the LIFE OF ME… but practice makes perfect, right? my brain stopped working halfway through writing the smut portion of this so… if you don’t think ellie is giving sub!top than… you might be onto something. anywayyy, i have sm fun writing the reader and ellie’s dynamic!!! hope you guys enjoy this lengthy freaky chapter <3 and to my new followers, i see you, i hear you, and i stalk your accounts. bisou babiessss x
After your father gently chewed you out for taking so long—must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed—him and Maria took Joel to see his surprise; little Sarah. They were gonna take care of the animal work this morning, while you showed Ellie how to manage the grocery shipments. The collection of the items produced on the farm: eggs, milk and fresh vegetables. All that good stuff.
“Please, be thorough because this is how we make our money, honey.” Maria said before she followed after the brother’s, out the back door.
You swipe the clipboard off the counter that they left for you, puffing air from your mouth. Ellie followed you out the door as you led her to a trailer that kept all the products that were packaged the night before. When you lived back home, you often did the morning chores, while they did the nightly chores—although, they helped you where they could in the mornings, because you had school.
They package the eggs, milk and vegetables, but it was your job to count everything—make sure nothing was broken or eaten by bugs or tainted by anything. It was a detail-oriented job. Then, you put everything in crates and prepare them to be taken to the local shops in town. Normally, your parents dealt with that part, but not this time.
The crisp air had smacked life into you once you stepped outside. And, it was a bit of journey from the house to the trailer. The first few minutes alone, walking toward your destination, was in silence. Partially, an awkward silence. Ellie dragged her feet behind you, feigning a level of coolness that didn’t exist for her. “So, what exactly are we doing?” She questioned, peeking over your shoulder.
You peered at her, raising an eyebrow. “We’re doing a count, and a quality check of the groceries we sell to the shops at the square…” You begin, handing her the clipboard. “So, basically, a bunch of boring shit. But, at least we get to ride downtown and deliver the stuff. It’s like a fun little field trip.” Shrugging your shoulders, you arrive at the temperature controlled trailer after several minutes of walking.
“Oh…”
“This is what you signed up for, Ellie… How does it feel?” You pulled the key from your hip, unlocking the door. Naturally, you hold the door open for her, letting her walk in before you, eyeing her slender frame hidden under her sweatshirt and jacket.
She sucked in a breath, wrapping her arms around herself. Freckled cheeks turning red from the cold temperature. “Shit,” Ellie looked to you, with her eyebrows bunched together.
“Gotta keep the groceries fresh. It’s even worse in the winter. Which is where we’re headed so… Good luck, I guess.” You place your hand on her shoulder, squeezing, gently. The other hand snatching the clipboard from her hand. Keeping your eyes trained on hers, teasingly.
Surprisingly, you composed yourself enough after what you pulled this morning. Touching yourself to the thought of your past lover—it was a filthy thing to do. But, it’s not like she knew anything; at least, you hoped she didn’t. If she did, she would’ve said something by now because she was a nuisance.
Ellie jutted her bushy eyebrows upwards, humming to herself.
“All right, so,” You began, rolling your tongue in your mouth as you read down the checklist. “We should have two hundred and fifty tomato’s, one hundred and seventy-five carrots, one hundred and ten Granny Smith apples and one hundred an’ forty honey-crisp apples—“
“Wait, I’m sorry… Are we hand counting all of these?” Ellie questioned, dumbfounded.
You chortled, placing a hand on your hip. “Uh, yeah, Ellie. This isn’t a factory.”
She scoffed, looking around at all the products around her. Cursing under her breath, pushing a piece hair behind her ear. “Continue…” Ellie sighed, squatting in front of one of the crates of tomato’s. Tossing one up in her hand, examining it. “These are some pretty sexy tomato’s.” She muttered, glancing up at you.
Rolling your eyes, you hummed, dragging your finger across the checklist. “Let’s just start countin’. After each, check the list to see if the numbers match up.”
You started counting the eggs and gallons of unprocessed milk, while Ellie counted the vegetables. Later joining her with the vegetables because she was, surely, taking her time. The apples is where she found herself confused—or feigning confusion. You weren’t entirely sure, but the way she blinked at you made you consider the idea.
Perhaps, it was poor thinking on your part; locked in the cold trailer, it was inevitable for the two of you to cling to each other… For warmth. The strictness of your parents had rubbed off on you, but around her you always loosened up. Ellie was like your other half—the yin to your yang. But it always began with a luring of sorts; on her part. That's what loved about her.
Her big, earthy eyes bored into yours—penetrating you, mercilessly.
“Did you forget how to count?” You snicker, glancing between her and the fruit.
“My minds a little busy at the moment…” She sing-songed, glancing at you from the corner of her eye. There was so much insinuation in her words—you knew immediately what she was referring to. Or you were projecting like all hell.
Truth was, in those moments from her knocking on your door, to walking out in the cold to the trailer; Ellie wondered why the fuck you haven’t said anything. About the kiss, that is. The borderline makeout session that happened in that bar bathroom. What if that woman never banged on the door? What would’ve happened next? She had so many questions and curiosities that she was intending to voice.
She wasn’t mad… Just overtly interested in your thoughts beyond nobody can know about this.
You weren’t projecting at all.
Carefully, you observed her, taking in a big, deep breath. “With…?” You inquired, blinking at her, fingering the round fruits in the crate.
Ellie turned her head, slowly. “Am I allowed to speak of it while the sun’s still out?” She lightly, teased. The corners of her plump lips rising.
“Don’t be a dick.” You chuckle, narrowing your eyes. “Nobody’s around… So— speak freely, please.” Your shoulders shrugging, faking a careless demeanor.
“If you promise not to hit me…”
“Seriously?” Your features pinched, leaning back on your hands in your crisscrossed position.
She chewed on her lip. “Too soon?”
Answering her with silence was enough for her to change the subject back to what was originally intended to be talked about: the kiss.
Quickly, she recovered. “I can’t stop thinking about you— the kiss. There! I said it.” Ellie admitted, eyes searching between yours for some sort of consolation. But, she was met with none other than silence. More silence. Sprinkled with a little bit of shock—it was written all over your precious face.
Your eyebrows were stuck in a raised position, lips parted as if you heard a stranger say a foul joke over the phone. “Uhm, it’s now your turn to say: Oh, my God, Ellie! I can’t stop thinking about you, too! Let’s run away together!” She furrowed her thick eyebrows, followed by a boyish chuckle. God, that made your heart swell, then shatter.
“Fuck, Ellie… Els…” Lips gaped like a fish trying to formulate your words. That was not how she was wanting to hear you repeat fuck, Ellie—wasn’t the plan at all. Her heart completely dropped to her ass. “I don’t… Break up relationships. I’m not that kind of person. I don’t wanna be seen as that kind of person.” You explained, looking directly into her shaking eyes. Pressing your lips together, gulping, you placed your hand on her knee. “Stop thinking about me… Stop thinking about that kiss— it’s never happening again. It was a mistake.” You gently told her, with a gaze that said the complete opposite.
A mistake. That struck her like an iron ton—or like one of those comical piano’s falling from the sky. Abrupt. Unexpected.
Her lips quivered and her shoulders shrunk at your direct words. “It didn’t feel like a mistake.” Ellie muttered, clenching her jaw. “Nor did it fucking sound like one…” She followed, throwing the apple in her hand into the crate, jumping to her feet.
“Okay, can you not bruise the apple—“
“Fuck the apple…” She spoke under her breath, shutting eyes in frustration. Ellie fought the pain in her chest, inhaling and exhaling, evenly.
You looked down, pitifully. “I’m sorry—“
“Don’t be.” Ellie interrupted, shaking her head with pursed lips. “Because I don’t believe a single word that you just said.” She added, shrugging her tense shoulders.
Making a bewildered face, you stand to you feet, pushing back one of the crates you were counting from. “Well, you don’t have to believe me. Just listen to me.” You face your palms toward her, leaning forward, slightly. “I’m trying to help you, Ellie.”
She sized you up. “You think your help is what I want from you?”
“It doesn’t matter what you want, because that’s all you’re getting from me.” You told, crossing your arms over your chest. “I am not a homewrecker.”
“There isn’t a home to wreck!”
“To you, Ellie! To you there isn’t a home to wreck!” You finally raise your tired voice, ending your rushed our words with your hand over your eyes. “She worries about you, she gets two bottles of champagne because I ask for it— I’m wrecking her home, and I can’t do that. Not with a clean conscience."
A beat of silence moves through the both of you, like an elegant ribbon dancing around your stiff bodies. Trying to pull the two of you together. Ellie was standing with so much distance between you, holding herself for comfort. Cold air whistled behind your ears as you waited for some kind of response. You watched her earthy eyes search around, lip moving as she gnawed the inside of her cheek in thought. “Ellie—“ You took a step forward, reaching a hand out to comfort her.
“Did you think about that… Touching yourself to the thought of me this morning?” Ellie let the words come from her slow and full of poison, taking her time to look you in the eye. Her feet began to move, meeting you in the middle. Face to face. Chest to chest.
Words got caught in your throat as embarrassment clouded your vision and mind. “W-- What?” You stammered, frozen in your place. She was the last person you wanted to hear that; it was an accident. It just happened. Similar to that kiss you shared together. It was in her character to bring it up--you fucking knew that much, but you didn't anticipate her bringing it up so harshly.
“How would Cat feel if she found out you were fucking yourself to the idea of her girlfriend—“
“It wasn’t like that.” You tried, averting your eyes. Eyebrows pushing together, swallowing the anger building in your throat.
“Wasn’t it?” A sickening smirk spread on her lips. Chest grazing yours as she stood tall. “I heard you… Whining for me— what we did couldn’t have meant nothing.” Her voice grew gentle, hand reaching toward a warm place on your neck. Still, internally writhing with embarrassment, you let her. Leaning into her cold hand, bracing yours at the divot of her elbow.
A sigh fell from your lips, meeting her intense irises. “I never said it meant nothing.” You mumbled, breath hitching. “It just shouldn’t happen, again. We have to think of the people—“
“Can you just think about yourself for once?” Her hand slipped closer to the nape of your neck, pulling you close like you did to her. Ellie peered down at your parted lips, nearly pressing her forehead to yours. She still noticed that hesitance in your demeanor—you were talking yourself off the damn ledge. Fighting the temptation that was Ellie Williams caressing your skin. Feeling you. Tethering to you for connection.
Perhaps, there was another way she could get you to stop restraining. In order for her to give in, she needed you to decide on your own accord. Your heavy breathing wasn’t enough for her. Nor was the stressed massaging of her forearm by your desperate fingers.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone—“
“Say the word, and I’ll do as you say. Say the word... And the kiss didn’t happen…” She whispered near your lips, breathing in the air you released—which couldn’t have been healthy. Even in the face of situational rejection, she breathed you in like fresh air.
Your hand found a way to cling to her sweatshirt, bunching the material hanging around her waist. Her lips pecked the corner of your lips, moving toward your cheek, then your jaw. You leaned into her touch, whining lowly. She was suffocating in the best way. For a moment, you believed you would actually go through with it. Unable to resist her, until you spoke. “I can’t…” You mutter, with your eyes fluttered shut. But as quickly as you said it, she pulled away from you. Arms, lips—fucking everything.
There was so much hurt in her eyes, but she swallowed it down. “Please, understand.” You pleaded, automatically feeling uncomfortably cold now that her touch was gone.
“Oh, I understand, all right.” Ellie bit, dryly chuckling. She was wilting before your eyes. Just like Dina had mentioned. This is what happens to her when you’re around, and you wanted to everything to make it better. However, your morals were clouding you. The moral being: Not appearing like something you weren’t. Not even, being a homewrecker—it was worse to be seen as one, than actually being one.
Your mind was occupied by the image of her in your dreams and while you were awake—you just fought harder against it. Ellie was the exact opposite of you. She fell into you the minute she knew that she could; it was worthy of your respect in some degree. But she wasn't yours anymore. “I’m gonna go pull Tommy’s truck around…”
She swiftly left the trailer, leaving you in your abrasive thoughts. The door shut behind her and you just blinked at it. Muttering curses under your breath, tears welling up in your eyes. Your memories flashing back to what it felt like to be kissed by her. It set your skin on fire—you’ve never been more in tune with someone in your life! It scared you to take a risk as grand as succumbing to someone who was spoken for.
The one thing Ellie told you about Cat was that she didn’t inspire her. And, from her first night on the farm, the artist was back engaging in her work again. Was it conceited to assume it was because of you? Clearly, something was off between the two of them. Enough for her to be looking to you for consolation. You were her muse; there were rights that you did have pertaining to Ellie. Plus, she was yours first...
Look at you, talking yourself up to resuming the treachery that was your blooming relationship with Ellie. That burning feeling you felt seeing her features drop at your rejection was like fire up the ass; a call to action. Ellie stole that level of control from you—the idea that you could succumb or pull away whenever you wanted to.
All of a sudden, you needed her more than breath itself.
Instead of waiting by the door for her like a mannequin, you finished up the counting with quickness. Checking off the list as you finished—all the products being accurately numbered.
Ellie had pulled the freight truck around, and quicker than you thought. It was as large as the smallest UHaul truck, and packing all the crates inside wasn’t much of a hassle. The auburn-haired woman stood inside the back, taking the crates from your hands to load the products inside. Fingers grazing every other crate, but Ellie made sure not to physically pay it any mind. She was playing a game that was only entertaining to herself.
She was a warm-blooded manipulator and a very good one. Ellie believed she was using her powers for good this time, though. For true love, she believes. Her gut told her that you felt just as insatiable for her as she did for you—she fucking knows it! It makes her sick that you can’t be forthright about how you feel without worrying so much. Yeah, she should probably break-up with Cat—and, mentally, she’s been planning to for months—but right now that wasn’t the priority.
She could only set her sights on two things at a time, and that was her art and you--two things that easily coincides with one another. Like mentioned before, she’ll handle the situation between her and Cat at some point. Whenever that will be.
Ellie could feel you chipping away with every chance of connection she took from you. Finger grazes. Intentional eye contact. She would flinch every time you tried to touch her, just like you did in that bathroom. Giving you a taste of your own medicine. It felt good, although, that pouty look on your face didn't let her fully revel in it.
You drove the truck downtown to drop off the goods—trading products for checks and money-orders. The drive being the worst fifteen minutes of your life. Stuck in a stuffy truck with a woman who was pissed at you. You kept glancing over at the freckled artist, hoping she’d meet your eyes just once. But her chin was rested on her fist as she looked out the window, keeping her eyes trained on the passing landmarks.
When all of the products were delivered, you started the engine with a loud huff. Disgruntled, well within your rights. But she didn’t pay you an ounce of attention until you released an exasperated sigh, halfway down the road.
“Fine, fuck, I take it back, Ellie!” You tap your thumbs around the wheel, trying to keep your eyes on the road.
She raises an eyebrow. “You take what back?” She wanted to hear you say it; a slight smirk spreading on her lips. It worked quicker than she thought it would—you must’ve wanted her bad.
You pull the truck to the side of the road, shifting in your seat to lay your eyes on her, safely. “I can’t stop thinking about you, either…” The confession pushed from your throat, leaking with solemnity. “Or the kiss— that fucking kiss.” You shut your eyes, re-living it in your mind before her.
“Well, I already knew that… I just needed to hear you say it.” She rolled her eyes, nonchalantly, leaning forward on her knees.
“Don’t get too excited… I have a proposition.” You hold your head up high, lifting your chin. Grasping for any semblance of control that you could muster. Ellie motioned her hand for you to continue, and you did. It was difficult to say, because that meant that it was real. Your sappy, horny and sickeningly romantic feelings for her were real. “I want you, and clearly, you want me, too. So… Why don’t we just get it over with?”
A grin cracked onto her face, followed by a giggle. Freckled cheeks turning a lovely shade of red. “Get it over with? Yeah, that’s totally something a woman wants to hear—“
“Ellie, you know what I mean.”
“Do I?” She raised a scarred eyebrow. The woman leaned back in her seat, sliding down, spreading her legs apart. Ellie was thinking with a subtle smile that couldn’t leave her face. She was excited and beyond. “You wanna fuck me, y/n?” The auburn-haired woman looked over at you, tapping her hand against the passenger seats handles. “Or… Do you want me to fuck you—? I’m down for either, really…”
You scoff at her words, shaking your head. “I wanna make sure that… We’re not acting like this because of the thrill of it all… Old flings, and shit. Get this out of our system.”
“So, this is a one and done type’a thing?”
“Depends. We’ll find out, I guess. I’m willing to find out.” You shrug, flickering your eyes across her stunning face. If only you could start now…Instead of harping, you turn back toward the wheel.
Ellie releases a joyful laugh under her hand; excited beyond measure. There was a thrill to sneaking around, but she didn’t need that to be with you. “Wait… You consider this,” She gestures between the two of you. “An old fling? We were together for two years.”
“Semantics, Ellie.” You chuckled, starting to move the truck back onto the road.
She sucked her teeth. “Semantics my tits— there’s nothing old flingy about us. I’m literally in love with you.” Ellie scoffs, glancing out the window before realizing what she said aloud. Pausing with her fist covering her mouth.
Warmth gathered in your face, gripping the steering wheel to keep a restraint. “Y— You… You don’t have to say it back, but… Yeah, it’s true. I am in love with you…” Her voice trembled as she spoke, eyeing the side of your face. “This isn’t a thrill for me. But if you need to make sure this isn’t a thrill for you… I’m okay with that.”
Your heart bloomed, beating rapidly in your chest. If you could attack her with your lips while manning the wheel, you would. Choosing to be selfish was hard, especially, in a situation as taut as this one. Nobody could ever understand—you had be okay with homewrecking; you needed to figure this out. You wanted to figure this out.
It was easy to know that you were doing this for more than the thrill. But, you just had to make sure this was worth the backlash that would come of this. From your parents, from Cat, from your friends, from Ellie’s friends. It all had to be worth something.
“So… What’s the plan for this thing we’re doing? Is it, like, a date?”
You snickered, keeping your eyes on the road. “I don’t count hookups as dates. We’re gonna treat this like a one night stand… For now, at least.” You take in a breath before continuing. “My parents should be in their rooms by ten-thirty, Joel by nine— correct me if I’m wrong…”
“You’re right.” Ellie agrees, nodding her head. Peering over at you with glimmering irises.
“I’ll come get you from the back porch at eleven-forty-five— no earlier, no later.”
“This sounds like we’re about make the greatest heist known to man.” She joked, chuckling to herself.
You hummed, glancing at her, briefly. “I mean, I am stealin’ you for a night, aren’t I?”
Her cheeks immediately blushed at your words, but she looked off to the door window to hide. Pupils dilating with excitement, chewing on her bottom lip. Planning to have sex was such a juvenile thing to do—something that you used to do when you were horny teenagers. Orchestrating around your parents, sneaking around, quickies left and right. It was silly, but it had to be done; according to you, at least. And who was Ellie to object? She would do anything to feel you again.
Pulling up to your house, you parked the truck in its usual place. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to get around Cat?” You question, loosely. Somehow without that guilt that’s been creeping up your bones, imbedding into your veins.
She ran a hand through her hair, nodding with pursed lips. “Oh, she’ll be easy.” Ellie shrugged, unbuckling her seatbelt.
Your lips pull into a tight, slightly stressed smile. The artist across from you narrowed her earthy eyes, taking your hand from where she sat, leaning forward. Ellie was prepared to say some uplifting words, but she forfeited that idea as soon as her lips prepped to speak. Instead, she stood up, pulling you to the back of the truck. Where the clear windows couldn’t expose the absolute crime that the two of you were—walking moral felonies.
Her hand clenched yours, coming to stop in the dark. Your hand creeped up her forearm, pressing yourself close enough to her to be irresistible. Ellie reached for your jaw, not wasting any time to press her lips against yours. Her lips were soft and longing; as if she’s been waiting for this moment her whole life. Your hands braced at her hips, pushing hers against yours—but, she still tried to take the lead. Tongue grazing your bottom lip as an ask to intrude your mouth.
Ellie wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to change your mind. She must've not have known you as well as you thought, because you most definitely weren’t.
The feeling of her fingers creeping around your throat made you pull away. Looking at her in the dimly lit darkness of the back of the truck. Pupils dilated, completely under her spell. And she thought you were the compelling one. “Do you have any resolve?” A smile spread onto your wet, shiny lips.
“Nope!” She grinned, leaning into you for more.
Turning your face, you laughed. “Save some for later, you freak.” Ellie kissed your cheek, then kissed it again; holding your face in her hands like a delicate object. “Ellie!” You giggled, holding onto her wrists. “We can’t camp out in this truck… They’ll start asking questions.”
“Ugh, I know…” Ellie finally pulled back, but she held onto your hand because she had to be tethered to you in some way. “Do you think we’ll have any time together before later?” She was such a romantic to her core.
“Probably, not. I have to help my mom prep some food for tomorrow… I promised.” You massaged her palm with your thumb, kissing her knuckles like it was something you did all the time. It was certainly something you wouldn't mind doing all the time. “Be patient for me, yeah?”
“I can try…” Ellie pouted, rolling her eyes.
“Eleven-forty-five… You’re all mine, and I’m all yours. Just a few hours. You can make it.” You finalized before walking back to the front of the truck to exit. But not without winking in her direction, leaving her in the dark. Stuck in a paralyzed trance: You’re all mine, and I’m all yours. Was this some sort of dream?
This was really happening.
The rest of the day was spent getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. You helped Maria prep her biscuit dough, and marinade for the ham. As well as cutting fruit for the pie Ellie and Joel were planning on making tomorrow. It felt domestic preparing things for her and Joel--just like you used to do. Sometime during that period, Tommy and Ellie took off to the butcher shop to grab some steak—because what was a Miller’s Thanksgiving without options?
And, weirdly enough, Cat joined you and your mother in the food prep. Which totally messed up your domestic fantasy of family cooking.
She snacked on the apple’s you chopped, leaning against the corner. “Have you ever tried her apple pie?” Cat asked, taking one of the other slices that you placed on a napkin in front of her. You were trying to be nice here. “Ellie is such a great cook.” She mused, dusting her hands on the fabric of her pajama pants.
You chuckled, rinsing off the bulk of the apple slices in the deep sink. “A long time ago… It’s pretty good.”
Maria chuckled, mixing spices and seasoning into her honey ham marinade. “Bug’s a harsh critic, too. So if she says it’s good, then it’s good.”
“She does the whole sugar crumble thing. It really sets it off.” You add, dropping the sliced apples into plastic tupperware to put in the fridge.
Cat hummed, pushing a piece of her slick black hair behind her ear. “Good to know. I guess I have something to look forward to— as well as your cooking Mrs. Miller.” She complimented, sharing a friendly smile. With your head still facing the fridge, you couldn’t have rolled your eyes harder. She was so sweet it made you sick. Champagne bottles mocking you as you emotionally rejected the girl in your kitchen.
“Is there anything I could help out with?”
“No, I don’t think—“
“Of course, hon. Would you mind taking that cornbread out of the oven?” Maria interrupted you, casting you a glare that only you could notice. Jutting your eyebrows up, you scoff under your breath. She hands her mittens from a drawer to aid in the removal of the glass pan.
Sighing, you watch her remove the cornbread—the one you were going to use for stuffing. “I’m gonna go take a smoke break…” You mutter, already pushing through the front screen door.
Soon after you pulled out your pack of yellow American Spirits, placing a stick between your teeth, your mother had followed you out. With her veiny hands on her hips, staring at you like you committed some sort of crime. Upon seeing her face, you lit the end of your cigarette, jutting your eyebrows up.
“What is going on with you?” She asserted, glancing at the cigarette between your lips with disgust. Maria never liked that you smoked; she knew how bad they were for you, but you didn’t have much of a reason to care. You didn’t care when you were young, and you surely didn’t now. For a brief moment, when you and Ellie were together, you smoked less. But, after that, you picked up like you never stopped.
You puffed the smoke away from her, holding the cigarette between your index and middle finger. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Uh, you don’t know what I���m talkin’ about? You think I didn’t hear all that heavy breathin’ in there?” Maria raised an eyebrow.
“Maria,”
“Don’t Maria me.” She inhaled, pointing an authoritative finger at you. “I can’t control who you like, but that girl in there is a guest in our home— and she will be treated with respect.” The blonde woman told as you leaned your head to the side like a rebellious teen. “All that sighin’ is for the birds.”
You pursed your lips, rolling your eyes. “Heard. Yes, ma’am.”
Her bright eyes softened, watching you take puffs from the stick between your fingers. “I know it’s hard to see. I understand that. But we’re not always gonna like everything— I’m sure you know that, though.”
“Yeah,” You breathe, peering at your mother.
“Why don’t you invite that Abby girl to dinner tomorrow? Ellie told us she took you home the other night.” She offered, nudging you, playfully. Record fucking scratch.
Why on earth would Ellie mention Abby to her parents? Where would she even find the time to do that? A deep sigh fell from your lips, but you covered it with a smile. “You know, what? That’s a great idea, mom. I’ll text her. See if she has any plans…”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This generation and their texting— give her a call, honey. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”
Maria squeezed your shoulder before dipping back into the house. You leaned your elbows on the bannister, hinging at your hips. Ellie telling your parents about Abby wasn’t going to put a damper on the plans tonight—however, she was going to pay for that. Stubbing out your cigarette, you snatched your cell from your hip. Decorative chain dangling from the headphone port.
Your thumb flicked open the screen, and you began to search through your contacts looking for Abs. Perhaps, you should call her—to really make the sentiment stick. After all, she was the one asking when she was going to see you again.
You clicked the call button on your keyboard, placing it on your ear. The line trilled and trilled, until a muffled sound signaled that she had picked up. “Abigail Anderson,” She greeted, as if she didn’t know it was you. But you could hear the smile in her voice.
“How formal, Abs.” She chuckled on the other end. “Do you have any plans tomorrow?”
“You mean on Thanksgiving? Yeah, I wouldn’t be in this middle-of-nowhere town if I didn’t.” She paused, shuffling on the other end of the line. Like she was shifting in her bed or something. “Why? You wanna do somethin’?” Her voice leaked with innuendo, and it actually made your stomach churn; like you were doing something wrong.
Sighing, you turned your back against the bannister. “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow… My family and I aren’t gonna eat all this food ourselves— we could use a helping hand.”
“Meeting the parents? I don’t know…”
You chortled. “It’s not like that, and you know it.”
“I said I’ll help Owen’s family with food prep… But, I should have some time to stop by.”
Yes!
“Okay, just keep me updated if anything changes.”
“I’d never leave you hangin’.”
“Right… Buh bye.” You shut the phone before she has the chance to respond. Releasing a sigh of relief. Oh, and just in time for Tommy and Ellie to pull into the gravel driveway.
You peered over your shoulder, coolly. With your bare arms wrapped around your body for warm. You watch as Tommy and Ellie hop out the truck with paper bags in his hands and two packs of beer in Ellie’s—they don’t need that much beer. But, it was a nice sight to see them laughing together. “Where’s Joel?” You question, deepening your eyebrows.
“He’s picking up a new guitar for tomorrow!” Your father responded, approaching the porch. Ellie following close behind him, looking through her lashes at you as she stepped up the wooden steps.
“Hey, Ellie.” You greeted, pressing your lips into a smile. A no strings attached smile.
“Hey, y/n.” She dragged the hey a bit longer than she should have, passing you. Tommy pulling open the screen door, holding it with his foot. But, you didn’t let her pass. Stepping in front of her with a playful smirk on your lips.
Eyeing the packs of canned and glass-bottled beer in her hands. “I hope there’s some wine or coolers in that truck a’ yours…”
She nervously chuckled, causing the blond man to raise an eyebrow. Cheeks raising and blushing. “I only have two hands. There’s two bottles of Sauvignon Blanc in there. Door’s unlocked.”
You smiled, unintentionally ogling her as she stepped passed Tommy to go inside. By the time your eyes ascended, you caught his skeptical blue ones. “I’ll go get the wine…” You mutter, trotting off the porch.
And that’s what you did. Trotted off to get the wine from Ellie’s truck. She was right, there were two bottles of Sauvignon Blanc waiting for you, and a rack of wine coolers. They spoiled you. Shutting the door with your hip, you walked back inside the house to place the items on the counter.
You didn’t notice the sight of Ellie clinging onto Cat—or it could’ve been the other way around—until you gave the room a once over. Tommy was giving Maria a chaste kiss on the forehead, chuckling against her skin. And, Ellie had her arms wrapped around Cat’s neck, pushing her into her chest. Her tattooed arms wrapped around her waist, laughing into her. That should've been you holding her like that.
It burned like all hell. And, frankly, it pissed you off on the lowest degree.
Catching a glimpse of Cat’s dark, almond eyes, you flinched. They weren’t sweet anymore, they reflected a level of competitiveness you have yet to see from her. It was completely and utterly random. Has she caught on? Did Ellie say something? Worry bunched in your eyebrows, but you averted your eyes.
Suddenly, you felt the need to write. Work on that chapter you started the other day.
“Hey, I’ll be upstairs… Gotta get some words outta my head.” You tapped your father’s arm as you passed him to head upstairs to your bedroom. “Call me if you need anything.” The words rush out of your mouth, before jog up the slippery wooden stairs.
When you shut yourself in your room, you fell onto your unmade bed, screaming into your pillow. Clutching the feather-filled sack with so much vigor, it could've popped in your grasp. That one glance had made the actions you were planning to do make a lot more sense, and you didn't feel as bad. You didn’t care if you were perceiving it wrong. There was always an inkling that Cat wasn’t as perfect and sweet as she let on. Why would she ever add her girlfriend’s ex on MySpace, anyway? Was she crazy? Most definitely.
You pulled out your computer to do as you said, opening your developing documents. Instead of focusing on the possessive eyes of Ellie’s girlfriend, you focused on your work—because, above all else, that was most important.
Eventually, Ellie went back to the guesthouse. Leaving Cat behind, since she was having so much fun around Maria and Tommy. It felt weird leaving her behind in a house that wasn’t familiar to her—mainly because the house was yours. Ellie knew you didn’t like her, but she wanted to finish the portrait she was working on. And she could only do that when her girlfriend was either occupied with work, sleep or pure mindlessness.
She tied a oil paint-stained apron around her neck and waist, before sitting down before her easel. She flipped over the breathable sheet she hung over it to protect the identity of the model. Then, she began painting—filling in the deep colors of the shed, then adding highlights to your painted frame. You were the first silhouette she added color to on the piece.
Time didn’t wait for either you—slipping by like it didn’t even exist. It was around eleven when you began searching for something cute to wear for Ellie. For Ellie—that was such weird thing to think about. There was old lacy nightgown that you used to wear, but the hems showed that you wore it to the ground. After a lot of shifting through drawers, you decided on a lacy pair of cheeky underwear and no bra—you could never go wrong with that. And, of course, a pair of boxer shorts and a large gray t-shirt. It was no sexy set from Victoria Secret, but it would do.
Ellie had always been a simple girl, just as much as you. She preferred nakedness over anything, anyway.
For the next twenty minutes, you pulled your legs up by your reading nook, scanning the pages of a hardcover book. It was a classic—something you were obligated to read in high school. You always loved books like that. Victorian. Regency. It was all so romantic.
The next time you glanced at the alarm clock on your beside table, it was eleven-forty-one. Meaning it was time to make your way down the stairs, checking for any lingering presences on your way.
Just like you thought, Joel and your parents were in their bedrooms. The kitchen was completely down for the night. The only light that was on was above the clean, silver gas stove. Shuffling toward the back porch, you cut the light on to check if Ellie was out there—and she was. With her hands shoved into the pockets of her sweatpants, hoodie over her head to keep her ears warm. They were matching tones of a light gray.
Opening the wooden door, you pushed open the screen door, eyeing her slender frame hidden under all that cotton. “Is this your incognito costume or…?” A smile pulling onto your lips. She narrowed her eyes at you, walking in with a slight sway in her shoulders. Ellie was illuminating with the confidence of someone who was about to get laid. The skip in her step didn't go unnoticed.
“Everyone’s asleep?” She questioned, swinging her arms at her side, waiting for you to shut the doors behind you.
Shutting off the porch light, you turn back to her, nodding. “Yeah. Just like I anticipated.” You watched her pull off the hoodie, mussing up her damp auburn hair. Olive eyes looking for you in the dark, expectantly. You take her hand with both of yours, walking backwards toward the stairs. “Come on,” You whispered, sweetly. Voice honeyed with anticipation and excitement. Fucking hell! Neither of you could believe that you were doing this.
“Be careful. The old wood creaks.”
“I know…”
Ellie followed behind your steps exactly, as you were trying to evade all the extra cracking from the staircase. It wasn’t a perfect journey from the first floor to the second, as some creaks couldn’t be evaded. But, nonetheless, you pulled her to your bedroom. Her hand growing clammy in yours, but you didn’t care.
As you shut the door behind you, Ellie began to look around your room. Noticing how it hadn’t changed much since the last time she was in there. The posters may have been different, but they were still there, barely peeling from the dull pink walls. And, hell, the catwoman figurines on your dresser were still in place. Collecting dust just like the sum of her own collectables at Joel’s place.
When she noticed you staring at her, the heart in her chest began to wildly beat in her ears. Her cheeks flushing a bright red, eyeing your frame.
You harbored a level of nervousness, but you were ready. Thinking in a happy medium of logic and emotion, you wanted to feel her. It was borderline nostalgic to the first time you were with her so intimately.
“This feels so formal.” Ellie walks up to you, placing her hands at your hips. Feeling the ridges of the waistline of your boxers over your long t-shirt. “Worse than a one night stand…” She chuckles, inspecting your features with anxiety. The moment she’s been wholly desiring was within her fingers, but her nervosa was getting the best of her.
You pressed your lips into a smile, placing one hand over hers on your hip, and the other on her cheek. She nuzzled into your touch, searching for comfort. It wasn’t hard to find, either. Since your thumb caressed her freckled skin—palm exuding nothing but warmth. “It doesn’t have to…” You began, voice purring. “This can be whatever you want it to be.”
Finding the softness of her throat to be alluring, you waste no time pressing your lips against her jaw. “Whatever you want it to be, Els.” You repeat against her skin, trailing down to her neck. Slowly plotting your lips against her throat, pushing soft breaths from her. Fingers squeezing at your hips, pressing them against hers. It was natural for you to take the lead with her—she was so bashful at times.
She’d spend the day tempting you with big eyes and deep kisses, only to turn to absolute putty in your hands when you took it to the next level.
Her body trembled under your touch, but the more she leaned into you the more relaxed she became. Your hand began to imbed itself into her hair, tips of your fingers grazing her scalp. A shaky sigh, borderline moan, came from her parted lips, legs wobbling to keep her standing on her feet. Did Cat ever make her feel this way? You were barely touching her and she was already making so much noise.
Tugging at her sweatshirt, you eyed her. “Take this off.” You breathily commented, sliding your hands under it. Quickly, she pulled the sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in a tight tank top, shaggy bangs spreading over her face. You push the strands from her eyes, glancing at her lips. Ellie dropped the sweatshirt at her feet, locked in a trance.
Your eyes glaze over in awe at her flushed features and expanded pupils. Drifting your middle finger over the beauty mark under left eye, drinking her in. “You’re so beautiful, Ellie.” Your voice wasn’t any higher than whisper, analyzing her twitching features. Her hand reached for your wrist, pulling it to plant her lips up your forearm.
“Says… You…” She speaks between each kiss, looking at you through her thick eye lashes.
A giggle sounds from you, watching her worship your skin, leading all the way back to your lips. Wrapping your arms around her shoulders, you get as close to her as you can. Her tongue timidly entered your mouth, causing you to release a moan of approval and affirmation.
She walks you toward your bed. The end of the mattress catching the back of your knees, causing you to fall. Keeping your eyes locked with hers, you scoot back into the middle of the bed. Ellie dropping her knees onto the mattress, crawling up to meet you. She pushed your shoulders down, collapsing atop of you to meet your lips again. Slotting her thigh between your legs, pulling up your shirt.
Her cool hand grazing over your ribs, just under your breast that hadn’t yet been exposed. Hips rolling against your thigh, sweats bunching in her crotch. “Fuck,” She groaning in your mouth, clenching the material of your shirt in her hands. Her sexual frustration beginning to take over. “I need you so bad, baby.” She whines, lips trailing to your jaw, nipping at you skin with her teeth.
One hand latched onto her hip, the other bracing on the mattress as you flipped her over. Positioning yourself on top of her, straddling her boney hips. Her wide earthy eyes peering up at you, full of desire. Boldly, you crossed your arms to pull the loose top from your body, throwing it across the room. “You have me...”
Slender fingers gripped your hips as you began to grind yourself on her. Breasts moving with every roll of your waist. Ellie reached a hand up to grope your chest, pinching your nipple with her thumb and the side of her finger. Abruptly, she sat up to plot her lips across your warm collarbones. Leading to where she could wrap her lips around the same sensitive nipple she was playing with.
A low gasp fell from your lips, falling into her, gripping the roots of her hair. “Ellie…” You sigh, rolling your eyes back—finding yourself overcome by her touch. You were trying to tease her, rubbing yourself against her like an animal in heat. But, you were just as greedy as her.
“Keep going…” She muttered against your skin, gripping the front of your boxer shorts and underwear. “Please. You look so fuckin' hot like this."
Her words shot right to your pussy, urging you to grind yourself against her harder. “Fuck… Ellie.” You cursed with your face in her hair, smelling the sweetness you craved. Her lips spread into a smile, hearing the words she's been waiting to hear. She nips your nipple with her teeth, before laying back down onto her back.
Bracing your hands on her stomach, you increase in speed, whimpering from the lack of skin to skin contact. The both of you restrained yourself when it came to noise—this was still forbidden. Something nobody other than yourselves could bare to witness and experience. But the squeak of your old bed frame knocking against the wall gave it away to peeving ears.
The brushing of you against her clothed clit, made her pant for you. Holding onto your hips, making you go as fast as you possibly could—gripping the fat of your ass through your shorts. Watching you shut your eyes in concentration, using her; trying to reach a high that she wanted to be the reason for.
She flipped you over, causing you to let out some combination of a gasp and giggle. Sprawling your arms beside your head, laying over your pillows and stuffed animals. Her earthy eyes glanced at them, picking one up. “You sure you want ‘im here for this?” Her long fingers squeezed the stuffed teddy bear.
You narrowed your eyes, wrapping your legs around her hips. “Nothin’ he hasn’t already seen.” Taking the bear from her hands, you toss him over the bed, pulling her down with insatiable desire. “C’mere,” You purr, bringing her down to your lips. Sloppily, you merge your lips together. One of your hands pulling up the white tank top that clung to her toned abdomen.
She obliged to your movements, briefly separating from your lips to remove her top. Freeing her small perky breasts. Connecting her lips back to yours, she groaned at the contact of your skin. Finding herself more intoxicated by you the more to she felt you, touched you, tasted you.
Trailing her lips down your jaw, to your soft throat—nibbling and sucking—then, to your heated chest; her hand was her guide. Slipping down your body before her lips did, tugging at the shorts and underwear that clung to you. They had to go! Her determined irises looked up at you while she licked her tongue around your areola before sucking your erect nipple into her mouth. Ellie was really making a show of it.
“You gonna let me take care of you?” Her voice was silken, moving to your other breast to give her some attention. “Prove to you… How real this is?” Instead of continuing to tug on your shorts, she slipped her hand inside. Her soft touch making you jump at the feeling of the pads of her fingers, spreading your folds.
Locking your eyes with hers, furrowing your brows, you nodded, feverishly. “Uh huh,” You breathed, rolling your hips against her touch. It was like you could feel the effects of her spreading through your muscles—as they tightened and loosened. Wilted flower, she was no more, playing with your dripping core. Marveling at how wet you were; it was surreal.
Ellie pulled back, sitting up on her knees. Her fingers hooked into your bottoms, yanking both your shorts and underwear down. You pouted, clamping your legs shut. She completely missed out on seeing the only cute lace number that you had. “I wanted you to see those.” You whined, peering up at her with a pair of eyes that just screamed: fuck me!
She kissed both of your knees before spreading them open, chewing on her lips at the sight of your glistening cunt. “I’ll see ‘em later.” You were so appetizing to look at—naked as the day you were born, clenching and trembling for her. She couldn't care less about the lacy number that was separating you from her. Ellie faltered for a moment, unsure where to start. That confidence that shot through her like a syringe of adrenaline was already fading.
When it came to sex, she always knew what to do—it was simple. At least with Cat it was. But, this was you she was working with. Her first love who was managing to give her a second chance after fucking everything up—she couldn’t mess this up. “Tell me what you want from me, baby.” She told, voice, slightly shaking. “Please.”
You furrowed you eyebrows, finding her nervousness endearing. Taking her hand, while keeping her eyes embraced by yours, you place her hand over your throbbing pussy. “I want you here…” You release a breath that comes from your diaphragm. Adding fuel to fire, you began rolling against her palm. “I wanna feel you…” Taking your other hand, you pull her down to speak in her ear. “Inside of me.” You moaned, airily, getting lost in the touch that you orchestrating. Pushing your head back into the fluffy pillows lining your headboard.
Her arms weakened, falling atop of you. She situated herself, straddling one of your legs to keep them open. Scissoring your clit with her middle and ring finger, warming you up before she inserted a finger into your weeping slit. Exhaling, shakily, at the feeling of your tight walls gripping her middle finger—you basically sucked her in.
Plotting your lips along her jaw, you couldn’t suppress expressions of pleasure that trickled from your mouth. Moaning against her pale, freckled skin as she curled her fingers inside you at a sickeningly slow pace. “Fast— ah… Faster, Els.”
She locked her eyes with yours, ingesting that blissed look on your features. “I wanna take my time with you…” Ellie kissed your lips, savoringly. “Wanna remember every sound, every look on that pretty face…” She kissed you, again. Deeper and full of unbridled passion. You could’ve came right there, looping your arm around her neck, trying to find something to hold onto.
Her touch lit your body on fire, and still, tried to restrain the sounds you made because of it. Sweat beaded in the crevices of you body, but she licked it up like sweet saccharine fruit juice. Truly, you believed she’d be at your mercy, writhing underneath you—first, at that! But, the minute you guided her, letting her know that you really wanted her; she completely gave in. Making you the one to writhe and call out for her.
Her firm ministrations felt like hours, adding another finger, brushing that spongey place inside of you enough to cause endless shaking and trembling. Borderline convulsing. There was such love in her eyes, watching you yelp and whine for her. Not even her sloppy, filthy kisses could completely hide the sounds you were making.
Clenching her hair in your hands, you felt your walls clenching around her fingers. “Fuck, Ellie… Just like that.” You whisper, proceeding it with guttural moan against her skin. The sound of your wetness filling your ears, pushing you closer to that edge. “Jus— ah f-fuck.” You cursed, rolling your hips against her.
Focusing her olive eyes on your face, she rolled your clit with her thumb. Making you grip the pillow behind your head with one hand, while your other gripped her hair hard enough to cause her a bit of pain. She whined at your touch, unable to look away from you. Freezing the frame of your mouth parted, making an ‘O’ shape, as she made love to you.
When that knot snapped in the pit of your stomach, she jumped to swallow your loud moans. Still, fucking her fingers into you to ride out your high. Your free leg snapping shut, clamping her fingers between the strength of your thighs. She pulled her fingers from your cunt, leaning back from your lips to eye the slick surrounding her fingers. Licking from the base of them, she sucked them into her mouth.
You watched her in awe, rubbing your legs together, still throbbing for her. Ellie was an absolute pervert when it came do you—could you get anymore turned on? She had no resolve, just like she said. You smash your lips against hers, growling at the taste of yourself. Your fingers begin to yank at her sweats, with the remaining amount of strength you have. “Why are these still on?”
“Because you didn’t take ‘em off.” She panted against your skin, falling back onto her back.
You chortled, pulling the pants from her hips. Musing at the striped boyshorts that clung to her, ogling the wet spot that seeped through the cloth. Your fingers lightly rubbed over the spot, grazing her erect clit on purpose accident. Her hips bucked up at you, a soft sigh leaving her parted lips. “These are cute.” You say before pulling them down her legs, flicking them off the side of the bed. “That’s me acknowledging your effort. See how easy that was?"
“I did acknowledge your effort…” Ellie whined, feeling your soft lips against her chest leading to her breasts. When you sucked her nipple into you mouth, pinching the other, she gasped. You hummed against her, slotting your leg between hers. She couldn’t help but grind herself against your thigh, groping your ass in the process.
Switching to the other lonesome breast, popping the right from your lips, you spoke. “No worries, baby, I forgive you.”
Impatiently, she humped your leg, panting under you as you suckled on her. Slowly, moving down her toned abdomen—licking and nibbling on her freckled skin. As if she were some sweet dessert on a silver platter all for you; taking your time. Popping your lips from her, you pressed her hips into the mattress. Ceasing her needy thrusts. “It’s my turn now, Els. Gotta be patient f’me. Can you do that?” You look up at her through your lashes, grinding against her glistening cunt.
Similar to how one would dangle a treat before a puppy—to get them to do what you want.
Her scarred eyebrow furrowed, nodding her head, feverishly. “Uh huh... Yeah,” Ellie’s breath hitched in her throat, watching you trail your lips closer to where she really wanted you.
She spread her legs for you, as you kissed around her mauve pussy. Gripping her firm thighs, prolonging that feeling of anticipation. Ellie threw her head back into the pillows, groaning in frustration. But she knew she couldn’t rush you—you never liked to be rushed.
Leaning your head on the inside of her thigh, you ran a finger through her wet folds, snickering to yourself. Did Cat ever make you this wet? You thought, sliding her slick over her clit.
“Never…” Ellie responded, leaning on her elbows looking down at you between her legs. You paused, not realizing that you said your thoughts aloud. Her swollen lips pulled into a shit-eating smirk; she was egging you on. It was villainous, nefarious even, to bring up her girlfriend during this moment. That may have not been your intention, but Ellie couldn’t have cared less.
All she cared about was how your fingers played with her, dredging moans from the lowest parts of her stomach. Making her have to cover her mouth with her tattooed forearm--Cat never made her do that. Not often, anyway.
You slung one of her legs over your shoulder, pushing the other against the mattress—diving into her cunt with your tongue. She was just as sweet as your remembered, like tree sap, and you sucked her up as such. Switching between thrusting your tongue into her hole, and suckling her clit; popping it from your mouth like it was candy.
She writhed because of your touch, lifting her hips off the bed as if she wanted to get away from you—but both of you knew that wasn’t true. You just pressed harder into her, making out with her pussy. Time was nothing but a construct to you between her legs; you had all the time in the world to make her feel good. Fingers grazing the strip of auburn hair leading to where your lips met—a landing strip.
You couldn’t have been happier, pleasing her so!
Sweet, pitchy moans came from her, the ones that slipped from around the forearm she bit—trying to be mindful. But, when you slipped two fingers into her, keeping your lips wrapped around her throbbing bud, a high-pitched shriek released. You moaned into her pussy, fluttering your eyes shut at the sounds she was making. It was music to your ears.
Feeling her eyes on you, half-lidded and dark than usual, you look up. “S— So fucking g— good… Uh!” She stammered, breathing heavily as she neared her climax. Collecting spit in your mouth, you dribbled it from your mouth. A glob of saliva mixed with her cum falling onto her blushing bud. Ellie moaned your name in a way that sent chills down your spine. Curling your hips into the mattress.
Her inner walls tighten around your curling fingers, letting you know that she was close. But that’s when you pulled away, massaging her tense thigh. Ellie sobbed, banging her fist against the bed. “You’re being such an asshole, baby. Nothing's every straight forward with you." She complained, rolling her hips against nothing as you switched positions.
Baby, baby, baby… You loved when she called you that. Even when you were the one calling the shots.
“Am I really…?” You breath, crawling up her body. Intertwining your legs, your pulsating buds meeting at the center of you.
“Ngh…” She whined at the contact, looking between the middle of your glistening bodies. “You're fuck-- fucking insane... Uh...” Ellie pleaded, words breaking up as you began rutting against her. Her wide eyes looking up at you as a grin stretched onto your lips; riding her into next fucking week.
Gripping onto her thigh, juices mixing at the center of you. You lifted her leg over your shoulder, surprising yourself with how flexible she was. Sloppily, you dragged your lips against her calf, unable to hold the sounds of pleasure coming from your throat.
“F— Fuck, yeah… Yeah!” Her orgasm hit her like a ton, causing her to shake under your quick rutting. Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling of her climax, sucking in a taut breath—not realizing that you weren’t stopping.
She began to squirm under you, gripping your thigh, trying to push you off. Whining and sobbing, but when you leaned down, hooking her leg under your arm—pressing your chest against hers, delicately kissing her flushed freckled skin; Ellie held onto you. One hand supporting your rutting hips, the other gripping your hair; moaning and breathing into your ear as a personal boost.
Although, she was overstimulated, she begged you to kiss her. “Please, kiss me— I wanna kiss you, baby…” Ellie babbled, wanting that intimacy of skin to skin—she wanted nothing but your lips as you came undone; just like the first time.
The rhythm of your hips began to falter, hinting at your release. Inhaling, sharply, you whined against her lips. Finally slowing your hips down to a sensual roll. You released her leg, settling comfortably between her thighs—lazily making out with her. Her hands cradled your back, holding you with a sort of gentleness only she could harbor.
She began to pepper kissing at the corner of your lips, toward your cheek. It was innocent and full of… Love.
This wasn’t for the thrill of anything but reuniting with a first love again.
Your eyes were shut, melting into her sweet touch. “Ellie,” You chanted, furrowing your brows. Uh oh. “Ellie,” You repeated, trying to get her attention.
“Mhm.” She answered, finding your eyes with her round ones. Looking up at you like you were the only woman in the world. Despite all of what you just did, there was so much innocence in her deep, evergreen eyes.
Your features grew hot under her gaze, eyes welling up with hearty tears. Lips quivering, working a sob up in your throat. Crawling off of her, you stuff your face into your pillows—trying to cover up the embarrassment that was crying after sex.
The only thrill that was apparent was your love for her. She made your heart jump and skip a beat—nobody else could do that. You thought that hooking up would’ve made things easier, but it was the total opposite; things just got so much harder because now there’s so much more to hide.
“Woah,” Ellie turned on her side, reaching for you as you hid from her. Her hands massages your shoulders and caressed your skin to soothe you. “Sex with me is so bad that I made you cry?” She rasped, chuckling under her breath, joking.
You peer over your shoulder, sniffling. “What? No. No, Ellie, you were perfect— more than perfect.” Gaining some courage, you turned on your side to face her. And, Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off you, or her hands.
Lightly, she collided the palm of her hand with the side of your ass, squeezing your warm flesh. “Then, what’s the problem? You know I don’t like seeing you cry…” She spoke, wiping away the tears that were staining your cheeks.
Seeing how gentle she was with you only made you want to cry more—sob into her actually. “It’s just… When you leave my room tonight… You’re going back to her— to Cat.” You mutter, holding onto her wrist that connected to your face. “I’m being selfish, Els— just like you wanted. I don’t want you to go back to her.”
She scooted closer to you, looping her arms around your neck. “I thought you were going to reject me, again.” Ellie chortled, placing a chaste kiss on your nose. You rolled your eyes, leaning into her arm. “You know, for your appearance and shit—“
“Ellie, shut up. I’m trying to be serious.”
That lovely boyish laugh came from her as she tucked her head into your neck. Clinging to you like a bear holding onto a stiff tree. Ellie had always been a bit of a cuddle bug. “I’m being serious, too. But… Go on, babe.”
You dragged your fingers along her back, causing her to shift a little bit. She was awfully ticklish. “I thought we were done for good after your seventeenth— I thought I stopped loving you because of it… I guess that isn’t true, like, at all.” You scoffed at yourself, nuzzling more into your touch. Squeezing your eyes shut as if she were going to slip from you. However, Ellie wasn’t planning on going anywhere—whether you were on top of her, beside her; hell, across the fucking room! She wasn’t going anywhere.
Tears began to well into your eyes again as you clutched her. “I’m so sorry for hitting you, Ellie. I’m so sorry.” You weeped into her shoulder, allowing her warmth to nurse you. “I shouldn’t have done it… I wish I could take it back." You couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if that never happened. Would the two of you still be together?
“It’s okay… I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. Listen, hey,” She pulled back to meet your trembling eyes, still finding ways to wipe your tears. “I know you like the back of my fucking hand. You would’ve never done that if I didn’t say what I said— I should be the one saying I’m sorry. And, I am very sorry.” She spoke from the heart, as your hearts held each other—chest to chest you were; skin to skin. It was all so intimate.
A smile spread on your swollen lips, pushing pieces of her hair behind her ear. “If it makes you feel any better… Joel adopting me is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” She leaned in toward your lips, peering at them, entranced. “The other was meeting you.” Her lips met yours, kissing them languidly. You opened up for her, allowing her to explore your mouth with the utmost of trust. Running your hands along her scalp, tugging.
She was such a charmer. The truest of charmers—full of nothing but endearment.
“Are you gonna break up with Cat—?” You pulled back, only a few inches from her face. “That’s not a question, actually… I need you to break up with her.” The truth was, after this spontaneous little hook up, you’ve come to the conclusion of a fundamental truth: Ellie was yours, and you didn’t want to share. First dibs, right?
“I mean, now wouldn’t be the best time. But, I do plan on breaking up with her— how else could I spend more time with you?” She attempted to smooth her words over.
You stiffen, scooting back a bit more to see her. “Okay, so… Can I get a timeline, Ellie?”
The artist sighed, averting her eyes. “I don’t know a timeline, right now— after Thanksgiving? I don’t know.” A wrinkle formed between her thick eyebrows, responding to your charged words. Her tone leaked with defense and it pinched a nerve within you.
“You don’t know?” You questioned, weakly. Quickly, you parted completely from her, swinging your legs over your bed. This wasn’t going to be a mistress situation—you refused for it to be that.
She called your name, sitting up on her elbow and forearm. “Baby, don’t be like that—“
“I’m not being like anything, baby.” You mock her, standing up to walk over to the shirt you threw to the side. Ellie couldn’t help but ogle your naked frame, sitting up the bed. She even watched you slide on those lace panties she barely noticed before.
“Hey! I was gonna keep those!”
“You snooze, you lose—“ You pick up her clothes, tossing them in her direction. “Get dressed, Ellie.”
Your demeanor had completely changed; it hardened because of her uncertainty. Ellie had been planning to break up with Cat for a long time, but now the pressure was on. Believe it or not, she didn’t want to drop a bomb on her partner during the holiday’s—and they still lived together. Certain arrangements had to be made before she could just break it off. She wanted to be with you, only you, but there was still a lot to think about.
You stand with your arms crossed, raising an eyebrow. “Get dressed, please. We have a long day tomorrow-- actually, today.” You gestured you hand: Hurry up, after correcting yourself, glancing at the alamr clock. It was one-something in the morning. Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. She slid on her sweatpants, purposely leaving her boxer shorts behind—slyly tucking them under your pillow. Maintaining eye contact, she pulled her tank top on, attempting to do that thing she always did—lure.
“You can’t seriously be mad at me, y/n…” She pouted, meandering toward you. Placing her hands on your hips, pulling you flush against her. “You can’t possibly want me to break up with her on Thanksgiving.”
“I didn’t say to break up with her today, but an estimated time would suffice.” You assert. “I’m not some side chick, or— or some mistress, whore, or whatever.”
She nodded, pursing her lips, squeezing your hips as an affirmation of want. “You’re right. You’re not any of those things. But Cat and I live together and a good portion of my stuff is under her care— I can’t just break up with her all willy nilly."
“Wow, so now you’re being super thoughtful.” You roll your eyes, scoffing.
Ellie chortled. “I guess you could say… I got some things out of my system.” She leaned toward you, glancing at your lips. But you didn’t press forward, at all. You just stared at her with a raised eyebrow and a subtle smirk on your lips.
“Ha ha. You’re so funny— I’m dying of laughter.” You intone, pulling her hands from your hips. “I’ll walk you down. You have a girlfriend to get back to.”
She rolled her eyes, sliding her feet into a pair of slippers. Opening your door, you led her out of your bedroom, taking the same path down the stairs you made going up. Hoping that the creaking would cease for a moment. “This was supposed to help us, not hurt us…” Ellie whispered, slightly saddened, holding onto your hand.
You sighed, looking over your shoulder. “It didn’t hurt us. I’m just irritated, okay?” When you appeared in front of the back door, you turned on the light. Unable to leave her completely, you walked out onto the porch with her—hand still in yours.
“Don’t be mad at me.” Ellie tugged you close, placing her hands on your shoulders. Sliding up the softness of your neck and jaw. You responded with a shrug, reaching up to hold her wrists. Thumb caressing the soft thin skin, feeling the lumps of her pulsing veins.
The freckled artist leaned forward to plot her lips on yours again, but you spoke before she could do so. “Abby’s comin’ to dinner tonight…”
She paused, dropping her hands from you, immediately. “What the fuck?”
You ran your tongue over your lips. “Consider that me getting you back for; one, bringing her up to my parents, and two, not giving me a timeframe for your stupid breakup with Cat— you’re on thin ice, Ellie Williams. Thin. Ice.”
The auburn-haired woman scoffed, peering off into the dark. “What? You think I care about her? I don’t even know who she is.” She was too stubborn to admit the amount of irritation that boiled inside of her at the sight of that blonde bit--
“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you were looking at her at the Tipsy Bison…” You told, crossing your arms. “The quicker you get rid of Cat, the quicker I get rid of Abby— simple.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “You’re so childish.”
“I prefer to call it… Whimsy.” You sneer, sizing her up. “Goodnight, Picasso.” You turn to walk back into your house, but her hand reaches for your wrist.
“I love you… Okay?” It was spoken with an airiness that made your knees weak. Ellie was trying to words on her tongue, feigning confidence. Even though, she was still so unsure about how you felt. The slight, twitching furrow in her brow tugged at your swelling heart.
Your other hand grazed hers, comfortingly. “I love you.” The words came from you with certainty, caressing the exposed skin of her hand. “See you later, I guess. Since it’s morning.”
“Yeah, see you later.” She kissed your hand before hopping off the porch.
You watched her jog back toward the guesthouse for a few minutes before entering the house. Shutting the doors behind you, your body filled with giddiness the moment that you were alone, not realizing there was another presence in the dark kitchen.
On cue, he cut the lights on, standing with his strong arms crossed over his chest. Your breath hitched in your throat, freezing in your bare-footed steps. “I don’t wanna assume nothin'… So, I suggest you start explainin’ what in the hell’s bell’s is goin’ on here.”
Fuck.
taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher , @maiaska , @culuvr , @0phantom0 , @onlinelesbo , @bbnbhm , @lovelaymedown , @lamorenita , @scatapple (some of these weren't showing up but i hope i got everyone who asked)
#🪅#millersfinest#ellie tlou#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#lesbian#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams smut#ellie williams series#if the smuts bad don’t tell me bro it’ll hurt my feelings
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farm girl!reader watching rafe wrangle up horses with ease…all sweaty…arms big and flexing…now she wants to be manhandled too!!!
— rina੭୧
rinaaaaa !!! i absolutely ADORE this ask and YOUU. omg.
𝜗𝜚farmgirl!reader watches stableboy!rafe handle the horses, then he manhandles her
c!w; mdni !! dom!rafe, farmgirl!reader, some ogling on reader's part (real), heavy flirting, heavyyy petting, fingering, 'unprotected' sex, p in v, squirting lol, creampie technically, rafe refers to reader as 'darl'.
notes; i have a thing for cowboys so this was SO fun to write !
the sun was high, casting a golden sheen over the fields as rafe worked in the paddock. he moved like he belonged there, all confidence and control, the kind of ease that came from years of doing this. the horses didn’t fight him; they seemed to know better.
you leaned against the fence, watching as he wrangled one of the more stubborn mares. his shirt was sticking to his back, damp with sweat, and he’d long since pushed the sleeves up over his forearms.
and god, his arms.
they flexed with every movement, muscles taut as he pulled the rope tight, his hands steady but strong. the mare bucked once, twice, but rafe didn’t falter—just dug his boots into the dirt and held his ground like it was nothing.
you should’ve been watching the horses, maybe even helping, but your eyes were glued to him. his jaw was set, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple and disappearing into the hollow of his throat. the sun caught on his skin, making him look...
your cheeks heated as you realised where your mind had wandered. but damn, the way he handled those ropes, the way he moved like he was made for this, rough and strong and completely in control, it had you thinking things you probably shouldn’t.
like how it’d feel to have those big hands on you, gripping your waist, pulling you close, lifting you like you weighed nothing. the thought hit hard, making your breath hitch as you watched him toss the rope over the post, his chest rising and falling with exertion.
you bit your lip, heat pooling low in your stomach as he wiped a hand across his brow, glancing your way with a lopsided grin. “you just gonna stand there? or you actually gonna help?”
you opened your mouth, but no words came out. the playful teasing in his tone wasn’t helping your state of mind, nor was the way his hair stuck to his forehead or the glint of sweat on his collarbone. your gaze darted away, focusing on the dirt beneath your boots, like that might cool the sudden flush in your cheeks.
“thought you had it under control,” you finally managed, your voice coming out lighter than you intended.
“always do,” he replied, tying off the rope with one quick, efficient pull that made his forearms flex. he turned back toward you, his grin widening like he could see right through your poorly veiled composure.
he walked toward the fence, his strides slow and deliberate, the air between you growing heavier with each step. by the time he stopped in front of you, leaning his elbows on the top rail, you were certain he could hear your heartbeat pounding in your chest.
“what’s the matter?” he asked, voice dipping low. his blue eyes locked on yours, sharp and knowing. “you’re all quiet. t’s not like you.”
“just... watching you work,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, but your voice betrayed you, coming out softer than intended.
his brow arched, that teasing smirk tugging at his lips again. “watchin’, huh? you like what you see?”
your stomach flipped, and you tried to play it off with a shrug, but you couldn’t keep your gaze from drifting, his arms, his chest, the way the sweat made his shirt cling just right. you were blatantly staring now, and he knew it.
he straightened up, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over you as he reached out, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. the touch was quick, almost casual, but it sent a shiver down your spine.
“careful.” he murmured, his voice like a low rumble of thunder. “keep lookin’ at me like that, and i might start thinkin’ you want somethin’.”
your breath hitched, and for a moment, you were completely still, caught in the weight of his gaze. then, before you could even think of a response, he smirked again, stepping back and tossing the rope over his shoulder.
“better be careful,” he said over his shoulder as he walked back toward the paddock. “wouldn’t want you gettin’ yourself into trouble.”
you stood there, rooted to the spot, your face hot and your heart racing, watching the way his shoulders moved as he walked away. trouble, you thought, your lips twitching into a small, private smile. maybe that’s exactly what you wanted.
you watched him walk away, the easy confidence in his stride making your pulse quicken. but as much as you liked standing there, admiring him from a distance, you weren’t in the mood to just watch anymore.
your gaze flicked toward the barn, the open doorway like an invitation, and an idea took root, bold and reckless, the kind of thing you’d only ever do for him.
you pushed off the fence, the cool grass brushing your boots as you strolled toward the barn with purpose, your heart pounding faster with each step. when you reached the doorway, you slipped of out sight, peering around the corner to make sure rafe was still watching.
he was.
he had one hand on the paddock gate, his head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing as he noticed your movement. his curiosity turned to something darker, more intense, when you reached for the hem of your top and pulled it over your head in one fluid motion.
you let it drop to the floor, right in the door way, highlighted in the soft light spilling through the open door.
rafe froze.
for a moment, the air seemed to still, the weight of his stare heavy enough to pin you in place. then, without a word, he tossed the rope he’d been holding to the ground and started toward you, his long strides eating up the distance in seconds.
“you’re playin’ a dangerous game,” he said, his voice low and rough, his eyes locked on the door as he stopped in front of it.
he stepped into the barn now facing you, the cool shadows enveloping you, and gave him a small, teasing smile. “maybe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “but i think you like it.”
he didn’t answer, not with words. instead, his hands already reaching for you, the barn door swinging shut behind him with a low creak.
he gripped your waist hungrily as he stared down at your chest, a flimsy white lace bralette being the only thing between his lips and your tits.
"pardon me for stayin' the lord's name in vain but, jesus christ." he breathed, hands rounding your breasts as you slowly stepped back further into the soft hay behind you. he pulled the fabric down, marvelling at the sight of your tits right in front of his face.
he looked into your eyes for a moment and the intoxicated look you were giving him was all he needed to know you wanted exactly what he came in here for.
his lips connected with yours, rafe pushing you into the hay behind you. he followed in suit, looming over with one hand attached to a breast and another cupping your pussy over your bloomers. his lips were soft against your own and your eyebrows cinched together at the feeling of heat pooling in your tummy.
rafe's lips travelled down your neck and your chest, slowly his tongue lapped over your sensitive nipple and you arched into his mouth with a whine. you could feel his mouth quirk into a smug grin but you couldn't care less.
his fingers pressed your folds through the fabric, sending jolts through your body as he began to drag them up and down. you were running a hand through his messy hair when he brought his lips up to yours again, groaning.
you started palming rafe through his jeans, fiddling with the belt buckle confidently to tease him and you could feel his breathing against you grow more ragged. he quickly moved his hand to your hip, then slowly dragged it down to the middle of the waistband of your little shorts.
"stop teasin' ray" you gasped desperately against his mouth, another cocky smirk adorned his lips before he finally slipped his hand past the fabric and thread his fingers through your folds softly. you were practically rutting against his hand as he stroked your sensitive clit.
you moaned against his lips as he continued, now pulling at his belt buckle and jeans zipper, wanting to repay the heaven he was giving you. a single thick finger slipped into your sopping hole sending you into overdrive as your hand stuttered on its way to snaking around his cock.
he scoffed against your lips, satisfied when you finally slipped your hand further down his pants, gripping his cock. you had to hide your shock at the size of him, although you couldn't be that surprised, you were practically being flattened against the hay because of how big the rest of him was.
your eyes rolled back, his fingers flicking your throbbing clit in just the right way, and he grunted into your mouth when you started tugging at him. he stripped his jeans down to his knees to give you better leverage, only making you nearly tear away from his lips to gasp at his huge cock.
he entered another finger into your tight hole, mumbling against your lips about how good his cock was gonna feel between your legs and you hummed in response, mentally dizzy about how it was going to fit. a possessive hand gripped your waist when he finally pulled his fingers away, releasing your hand from his pants too.
"c'mere," he grunted, tearing down your bloomers and panties nearly to your ankles in one strong motion before pulling his hardened cock from his boxers, all angry and dripping in pre-cum. he noticed your open mouthed stare and grinned, darting is tongue between his lips for a second, "don' worry darl', i'll make it fit."
you shuddered at his words, and the way he was holding his shirt up with his teeth now as he slid the head of his cock over you folds teasingly. your thighs were already twitching when he slowly sunk himself in, only partly being able to fit you winced as he started slowly thrusting deeper into you until finally, you were full to the hilt.
"oh god, rafe. i th- you're- you're in my tummy" you whined, your hand brushing over where you could clearly see a huge bulge protruding in your lower stomach as his hips continued to slowly meet yours with every thrust.
he chuckled lowly, a sweet sound making you melt around him, "told you i'd make it fit." he picked up the pace, rocking into you as you sung sweet moans into his ear, his lips connected to your neck leaving sloppy kisses and small hickies you know you won't be able to hide from your parents.
he gripped your hips roughly, your back arching up as he bounced you on his cock. your walls pulsed around him, strangled moans escaping your lips as you realised you were gonna cum so soon already. rafe could feel the fluttering around his cock but only fucked you harder, his tip kissing your cervix deliciously.
your eyes were squeezed shut as you gripped his biceps desperately, feeling the pressure begin to build in your heat. his hand affectionately slipped into the nape of your neck, his thumb stroking your cheek while he snapped his hips mercilessly against yours.
"oh my god!" you cursed, your arms grappling around his neck, you swore you were in heaven when rafe groaned into your neck, praising how good your pussy felt around him.
your legs began shaking uncontrollably, a broken sob erupted from your core as hot pleasure coated your body and a stream of wetness soaked rafe's cock.
"fuuck!" rafe groaned out, spilling thick ropes of cum into you, he continued his stuttering thrusts, your tight pussy milking him dry. "you just squirted all over my cock darl', shit." he breathed, grinning from ear to ear, planting a sweaty kiss on your forehead.
taglist ! ; @drewscoquette , @dollyfiles , @holes4rafe , @filthyrafe , @bambiangels , @rafesheaven , @bambrinaa ( pls lmk if you want to be added or removed, i wont mind ! )
#*·˚ˎˊ˗works#⊹₊⋆farmgirl!reader#stableboy!rafe#༅₊˚ˑasks#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fic#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe smut#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#obx smut#rafe x reader smut#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x !reader#rafe cameron x reader smut#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#!reader#rafe x !reader
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getting acquainted with the dildo: attempt #1
contains: sevika teaching reader how to suck the strap, dry humping (reader doing it on sev's thigh), friends with (resolved, thank god) tension, slight humiliation kink, a bit of a spit kink, teasing, inexperienced reader, implied age gap (both reader and sevika are adults), sevika calls reader "kiddo" teasingly, reader's body is referred to w/ the following terms: "pussy," "clit," "cunt"
when you tell sevika that you've never used a strap-on before, you nearly beg some higher force to let the ground swallow you whole. you two have been friends forever, but lately, it's undeniable that some sort of molten desire has been pooling at the center of what you have. maybe it was always there, and had just been in denial. but, it's undeniably present now, impossible to ignore, thick and heavy in the air, lining every interaction with a sort of hot lava.
and it's made confessions like this, ones filled with sexual secrecy and exposed desires, carry a lot more weight than they did prior. you're pretty much confiding in a woman who you're aching to have sex with about just how much experience she should and shouldn't expect of you. it's way more vulnerable, and it feels like you're spoiling her prematurely by peeling away sexual secrets that in a different circumstance, one with just regular dating, she would've discovered on her own in the context of wanting to have sex with you. but, doing it in a friendship, when you don't even know for sure what she feels, is more uncertain. it's farther away from the line of actual romance and desire, and therefore feels risker to admit. because if your inexperience deters her, maybe she'll easily dismiss and rid herself of any attraction she might've once harboured for you, since it'd be simpler to as just friends.
so, to say the least, you're scared when confessing this secret to her.
at least, that's until you see the way her lip curls up when, while laying on her couch, you confess that you're nervous about one day using the strap due to never having done it before. she seems equal parts intrigued and amused by the revelation. from where she sits, picking at one of the screws in her arm, she asks, tone low, steady, "well, do you feel ready?"
"I don't know." you stare up at the ceiling, for the thought of maintaining eye contact through this conversation is a bit too unnerving for your liking. "I mean, I'm sure everyone feels... not ready when they start using it, right?"
she shrugs. "maybe. to a degree. but, you don't need to push yourself if it really scares you." her voice has turned tentative, face absent of the initial mischief. with the way she angles herself away from you, it seems that she's somewhat uncomfortable with giving such earnest advice.
"thanks for the sex-ed," you laugh, trying to ease the mood some.
"well, considering I've actually worn the strap and you've barely touched it, you could use all the advice you can get."
you try not to visibly tense up at the casually tossed comment. you knew sevika has used a strap, of course you did. you've been at her apartment enough times to catch sight of her lube or dildos (because, yes she has several) scattered about. but, god, the idea of it taut on her pelvis, ready to be used to pump into you, has your thighs tightening.
"well, then, oh-wise-one, what would be your advice?"
she shrugs, avoiding your gaze for a few seconds before saying, "getting acquainted with it. with things like sucking, touching, you know."
"sucking?"
"yeah." the corner of her lip quirks up as she raises an eyebrow at you. "never done that either?"
you feel your face warm, feeling awfully pathetic under her pointed gaze, years of experience behind it. "no." you groan, swiping a hand across your face. "god, I'm gonna be so horrible at it when I first do it."
"then, practice."
you scoff. "with who?"
"by yourself?" she drawls, casting you an incredulous look as though she aims for you to question your own stupidity.
you huff, turning away. "I can't do it on my own, how will I know if I'm even doing it right?"
"then, I don't know," she sighs exasperatedly, lighting her cigar. "someone you trust, I guess. someone who wants their dick wet."
"the only person I know who wants to get their dick wet is you," you snap, a petulant part of you hoping you can embarrass her as much as she does with you.
her lips wrap around the tip of the cigar, that scar on the bottom one seeming to deepen. it's almost entrancing, hooking your eyes in and leaving you resistant to its power.
you only snap out of the spell when she says, "is that your way of asking for it to be me?"
the words have your lips parting before you can force them shut. what the fuck is that supposed to mean? you're well-aware of the tension that's been there between you two, of course you are. but, you never imagined that sevika would actually initiate anything. sure, she's flirted here and there, and you're convinced she's started purposely mentioning stopping at babette's for the sole purpose of making you jealous (after all, she always has such a shit-eating grin whenever you fidget or glare at her in response). but, still, it's never amounted to an actual offer, an actual step over the threshold between friendship and, well, something else.
you know it's the more responsible decision to say no, and shut this down before things get complicated. or at least until you clear up whatever it is you guys consider yourselves to be in relation to each other, and if it's something that carries as much emotion to her as it does to you.
but, part of you wants to give into the throb between your legs, the thick tension crackling in the air, the way her gaze is resting on you calmly, as though debating whether or not she should pounce. and god, you want her to, itching with curiosity as to what she'd say if you teased back.
and so, you do. "why, are you offering?"
you get a world of satisfaction from the way she coughs at the question, puffs of smoke blowing from her mouth as she roughly clears her throat. beneath it all, though, is a very apparent underbelly of nerves in your stomach, tingling in anticipation for her answer.
when she finally sets the stupid thing down, giving her lungs a well-deserved break, she says, "why, do you want me to?"
you grit your teeth, a spark of irritation set aflame from this back-and-forth. you wish she could treat you with the courage she does anyone else, just answering your question then sweeping you off your feet with no action required of you. but, no, she just has to be cautious, and hesitant, and sweet. today, of all times.
you sigh. you suppose it's on you to end this game. your chest is tight with anxiety, the words about to roll off your tongue heavy and filled with consequence. but, you push through, anyways. if you remain vague, she will too. if you say no, you may lose your chance with her for god knows how long. so, the only option is: "fine, yes."
immediately, regret weighs upon you, sinking down into your guts. you shift, eyes pointed down to your knees, trying not to panic, when a small huff meets your ears.
it's sevika. sevika chuckling.
your eyes tentatively raise up to her, nails digging into the plush of the cushioned seat you're on. her small, endearing gap flashes as she shakes her head slowly, her laughter sounding split between amused and incredulous, bordering on a scoff.
you feel nearly glued to your spot when her eyes finally rest upon you, the grey shine in them wrapping around you and pulling, pulling and pulling.
she leans back in her couch, spreading her legs out. "well, then, hop on, kiddo."
and that's how you wind up on her thigh, her arm wrapped around your torso as you fist at the fabric taut over her broad shoulders. her mechanic hand squeezes into the silicone balls of a dildo, eyes stuck on your lips as she traces the tip over them. your breaths are heaving with anticipation as she strokes the head along the inside plush of your lips, getting the bulb of it wet and slick with your spit. the experience is exhilarating, for you know she's capable of going harder than this, of fucking your throat raw. but, no, she wants to take her time with you, draw out every drop and dribble of pleasure for the both of you.
"who knew you had it in you?" she muses with a raspy laugh.
before you can even speak to protest, she slides the entire head in, capturing your voice and transforming it into a broken, wanton moan of surprise. her eyes practically gleam at that, and she slides the dildo out of your mouth's confines with a pop before sliding the tip back in. your lips latch on automatically, hugging around the head and letting it roll around the flat of your tongue. despite the sheer anxiety of having sevika's attentive eyes on you, the motions of her push-and-pull into your mouth is almost -- well, relaxing? the repetitiveness of it, the way it gives you something to direct all your five senses to as it lolls about in your mouth, your lips tightening and loosening -- it makes your brain feel softened, hazy, lost in this.
"ah, look at that," she coos, her tone hushed and sharpened with an edge of mockery. "sucking on that like that's all you're good for."
the playful degradation makes your clit fucking throb, and without meaning to, your hips automatically jerk forward, the firmness of her thigh making your eyes nearly roll back.
"oh, someone liked that," sevika mutters.
her thigh suddenly bucks up, sending you bouncing on her lap and nearly toppling over if not for her muscular arm steadying you. the pressure against your pussy makes you whine around the toy. your lips stretching open to release the noise only has her pushing it in deeper, nearly a quarter of it now sliding up and against your tongue.
"suck it in and out, just like that," she whispers, her eyes burning into your skin as she intently watches you. you try to follow her directions, but your sucks are too eager, too fast, and sevika reaches her hand up and gently grabs your jaw, coaxing it into fluid motions that has the dildo being softly pressed and released by your lips' grip, over and over and over again.
you know this is a horrible idea, a fact that only becomes more punctuated with every thrust of the toy into your mouth. you know you should've had some more self-control, and should've put a stop to this inane idea before it had manifested into a reality. but, no, you just had to think with your pussy, and now look where it's landed you? on your friend's, a good, loyal, helpful friend's, lap, practically rutting like you're in heat and sucking dick with zero technique.
"when that gets a bit too repetitive, you can lick it." she abruptly yanks the dildo from your mouth, and an embarrassing wad of spit stretches out with it, spilling thickly down your chin. your face is practically burning from the heat of humiliation, but sevika doesn't seem to mind, only smirking and saying, "now, I was gonna tell you you can get messy with it, but you're a step ahead."
now that your mouth is finally freed, at least you get to spit out, "you're such a dick," as though your pussy isn't practically leaking with arousal.
"oh, so you suck off any asshole, then?"
"maybe I will once you're done with this lesson," you haughtily snap back.
her eyes narrow at that, but she says nothing to it, smacking the tip lightly against your mouth. "open."
despite your snapping, and much to your annoyance, your mouth immediately goes slack, falling open for her.
"tongue out, now."
you obey, sticking it out.
she snorts, shifting in her seat as she raises the dick to you. "such a little sub."
you roll your eyes at her words, jerking when she grabs your jaw, forcing you to face her. "keep those eyes on me."
your pussy clenches down on nothing. god, you need her. not that you'd ever admit it -- the last thing she needs is another ego stroke.
"show me how you'd lick this."
giving you so much control causes your confidence, however little you had of it, to waver. you hesitate before tentatively stroking the flat of your tongue along the head, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. a tiny burst of pride ripples through you when you see her eyes widen imperceptibly. it's barely there, but you know her well enough to know it wouldn't have happened unless, at the very least, a small part of her was surprised, or maybe even impressed.
the reaction eggs you on, and you do it again, running your tongue along the entire length of the dildo, using the tip to trace along the bulging veins. when that's done, you lap at the head, the flat of your tongue quickly moving along it in steady movements.
when sevika speaks, her jaw is clenched, and the deep breath she takes shudders. "good."
"yeah?" the clear effect you're having on her is most definitely getting to your head, and it makes you desirous to push and prod at her more. "am I being good?" you end the question with a kiss right to the tip.
almost as though sevika is tethered to the toy, she swallows hard at the sight. "yeah," she says, her voice firm. "you're doing good."
the praise has your hips bucking again, and you internally curse at the leverage you've so clearly given her, another wicked smile curling at her lips.
her thigh resumes its actions from before, pumping up to meet your clothed core as her arm grips your waist tightly, keeping you anchored as she encourages you to rub yourself on her. your body acts before your mind can catch up, hips pressing down so that your clit receives some friction through the layers of fabric. you hate to admit it, but sevika's muscled thigh is a perfect helper.
"you can flick your tongue on the tip, too," she says, her voice a lot rougher than it was a few minutes back. you derive some pleasure from it, for even if your resolve is loosening and waning in wake of her touch, at least hers seems to be too.
"how?" you ask, your voice an embarrassing pitch from the desperation accompanying the word. but, as soon as it slips from you, your mind conjures up a single image, and it drives you to ask, "can you show me?"
"you kidding me?"
"no." you bat your eyes, hoping it'll get her more susceptible.
"I'm gonna need a bit more convincing than some pretty eyes."
oh, well, never mind. you deflate physically, though something tickles your stomach at knowing she finds your eyes pretty.
"oh, c'mon, please, sevi," you say, tugging on her arm with a jutted bottom lip.
after a few moments of casting you a deadpan stare, she sighs, tentatively turning the dildo around and raising the head to her mouth. voice warm, so velvety, she murmurs, "like this."
you hold your breath as the tip of her tongue pokes out, flicking along the head of the toy, flapping over it fast and hard. she may not realize it, but she's giving you a crystal clear shot of exactly how she'd look devouring your clit. you pocket the mental image, already knowing you'll pull it out the next time you get off.
when you follow suit, lapping at the tip, your tongue's point making little zig-zag wags, sevika's hand tightens on your hip, and with just one pull, you're back to riding her thigh. the pleasure coursing through your pussy, deep and aching from the pressure, is making you lost in sensation. your eyes flutter close as your hole clenches and your clit swells up, sevika's muscular thigh hard and lovely.
meanwhile, she's easing the toy into your throat, laughing when you gag all over it, spit gushing from your mouth. she's relentless in her practice, just coaxing you to move faster on her thigh as you struggle to accommodate the dildo, pathetic whines tumbling from your mouth everytime she pushes it in and your throat seizes with a choke. it leaves you more sloppy, more wet, more nasty than you were before, saliva trailing down your chin and getting your neck cool and sticky.
sevika's hand slides up your waist, just barely grazing the side of your breast on the way up, before brushing a thumb against the corner of your mouth, wiping away the residue. the touch seems wholly intimate compared to the ones that preceded, especially when she uses the digit to encourage your mouth to open and take the dildo in again. she seems to be more cautious of your limits now, easing it only halfway in. your eyes flutter shut, sucking nonsensically at it, losing yourself to the rhythm as you jut against her thigh faster.
sevika's eyebrows furrow in as you speed up, her breathing laboured, and you nearly giggle around the toy at the evident impact you're having on her. but, that's not all there is to it, for her expression only has a series of more hot, tempting mental images bursting through your mind. her panting like that when thrusting into you, her eyebrows scrunching in concentration like that while she lavishes attention all over your soaked cunt.
the thought has you bouncing faster, and sevika growls. actually fucking growls. her hand abandons your face, opting to grip your ass tightly and drag you harder against her. your bud is practically weeping with desire now, desperate to have its wants sated as you grind down harder. the weight of the toy on your tongue, the way your mind is numbed from the bodily chaos of sucking, thrusting, clutching -- it sends you rolling close to your orgasm, just barely teetering on the edge of it.
what finally sends you hurdling past it is how sevika bites her lip when she pulls you forward again, her thigh pumping up and down to meet your thrusts. she looks so concentrated on you, her dark eyes hooded and intense, and the pure want on her face makes you feel so desired, so aroused at the idea of how many ways you can get that expression on her face again. that, paired with another aggressive press from her thigh, and a tight suck on the dildo, sends your body crashing with an orgasm, walls spasming as your thighs go taut. you writhe in her arm, nearly tipping all the way back if it weren't for her catching you and holding you close. your chest presses flush to hers as you tremble like a leaf, clit sopping and stinging in sensitivity as she continues pushing against it.
you whine in protest, slightly lifting your hips, and she immediately takes the hint, slowing her movements to a stop. all the while, you keep sucking on the dildo, the shape of it in your mouth, the way it offers you something to latch onto and ground yourself with, practically addictive.
sevika watches you carefully for a few moments before gently tugging it out, a string of saliva hooked between the head of it and your bottom lip.
you moan in surprise when shr leans in and runs her tongue along your chin, curling it right at your bottom lip, swallowing down the saliva all for herself.
"you're such a mess," she mumbles, sucking languidly at your chin.
"it's not my fault," you grunt, voice raspy from all the noises you made. now that the heat of the moment has worn off, the searing burn of embarrassment begins to imprint itself on you. god, you were so loud, so desperate, so--
"you looked good."
you lick your lips, some of the nerves calming. "yeah?"
"don't let it get to your head."
"that's true, I already had my fair share of head for today."
her eyebrow raises at you in a distinct lack of amusement. "you're lucky you're cute."
your stomach sizzles with oh-so-stupid butterflies. god, why does she have this much of an impact on you? and it's so effortless on her end too, which makes it all the more frustrating for you.
"you think I'm cute?" you ask, forcing your tone to sound teasing so she doesn't realize just how earnest you are.
when she falls silent for a few moments, you tense up, wondering if she can tell how serious you are.
"who's the one leaking through my favourite pants right now?"
or maybe not. face twisted into a cringe, you grip her shoulders to stumble into a standing position, her hand still loosely hanging by your waist. "on that note, I think I'll go wash up."
her fingers dig with a bit more pressure into your skin, and to your shock, she says, voice gruff, "not just yet. just sit for now."
you let her tug you back into her lap, your arms immediately winding around her neck. "what for?"
she shrugs. "just comfortable." her eyes finally lift to you, and it's like you could plummet to the ground with how swept over her steady gaze makes you feel.
"was it not you who just made made that stupid pants comme--"
"do I need to get the dildo again?"
you burst into laughter, eyes crinkling as you shake your head at her. "is that gonna be your go-to whenever I piss you off now?"
"amongst other possibilities." her fingertips ghost your waist, and you shiver.
other possibilities? you know it's not the smartest thing to dwell on -- after all, she might've just said casually with no serious intent. but, sill, your stomach warms from something you had been trying your best to avoid this entire interaction.
hope.
but, when she touches your waist like that, and seems to struggle to remove her hand from you as you walk away, you can't resist the little part of you of that whispers, maybe it's warranted.
but, you don't want to get ahead of yourself. so, you keep it at just a maybe.
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secrets out- schlatt
fluff, references to smut, mostly just pure fluff tho :)
You blink your eyes slowly as you wake up. You hear the soft chirping of birds outside, and the sun casts your bedroom in an almost angelic glow. You stretch a little bit, but come to find there’s no resistance. You realize that, unlike most mornings when you wake, Schlatt’s arms aren’t around your waist. You groan, coming to the conclusion you should probably go and look for him. You decided he’s most likely in the kitchen making coffee, probably on his second pot as well. A small grin spreads across your face as you think fondly of him and his crippling caffeine addiction. You’ve had to hide the grounds from him multiple times, tough love as you say.
You swing your legs over the edge of the bed as you try to sit up. “Fuck!” You mutter under your breath, soreness seeping into your entire lower body.
Speaking of tough love, last night was a lot of fun. You slide out from under the comforter and steal one of Schlatt’s shirts. You grab a pair of panties too, but it hardly matters due to the length of the shirt. “Jay?” You call out meekly, wincing with every step to the door. You sneak out of the bedroom and out into the hall. Voices float from the kitchen and you smile. You imagined your boyfriend listening to a podcast, or watching COD videos like he usually does when making the two of you food. You run your fingers through your hair as you slowly make your way to his kitchen. “Jay,” you call out again.
“I am genuinely struggling to walk right now, thank you for that. If you aren’t making me breakfast right now after last night, I might actually kill you.” You complain as you step into the kitchen.
However, as soon as you lay eyes on the scene in front of you, you feel your heart drop.
Ted, Eddie, and Charlie are all sitting at your kitchen table with Schlatt, a look of pure shock on their face. Hand still in your hair and eyes wide, you survey everyone whose eyes are currently on you. Eddie is staring at you wide eyed, brows furrowed together. Charlie is blinking, mouth agape, and rubbing his eyes every few seconds like he expects you to disappear. You snap your eyes up to Schlatt, giving him a panicked look as you tug on the hem of your shirt, attempting to cover yourself further. “So…” You mumble, red flushing your cheeks. “I didn’t know that you guys were coming today.”
“We thought uh, we thought we’d surprise Schlatt for his birthday, but it looks like he surprised us.” Ted says. “We were going to invite you to this, but you said you’d be busy this week with that secret boyfriend of yours- oh. Oh.”
“Yeah…” You mumble as you look at Schlatt helplessly.
“So.” Schlatt says and pushes up from his seat. “It appears the secret’s out.”
He walks over to you and slings an arm over your shoulder. The group’s eye’s follow him do this usually platonic action, something Schlatt has done to them many times, but it has an awfully intimate sort of feel to it this time around. “I cannot believe you two are fucking.” Charlie says.
“We aren’t fucking dude, we’re dating.” You say, punctuating the sentence with an eye roll.
“For how long?” Ted asks.
You look up at Schlatt and he lets out a chuckle. “Uh, for about a year and a half now.” He says.
The shock on everyone's face returns, and Ted looks aghast. “A year?” He says, astounded. “She's been on Chuckle Sandwich since then! You guys have visited me in LA since then! You- you- you probably fucked after seeing me!”
You and Schlatt share a look. “Well yes, but also-” Schlatt starts to say before you smack your hand over his mouth.
“Nope. We are not sharing this fun fact right now, big guy.” You say, knowing exactly what story he was about to share.
“Why? What did you do?” Ted exclaims.
Schlatt muffles against your hand but it stays firmly pressed against his mouth. “Ted, I really don’t think this is the time to share.” You say, sickly false sweetness dripping from your voice.
Ted opens his mouth to say something but is quickly stopped when you yelp. Schlatt bit you. You yank your hand away immediately. “Jesus Jay!”
“Had to have you bring your arm back down. Your shirt was too far up, you were flashing everyone.”
You turn a deep red yet again and say, “I’m going to go change.”
You look up at Schlatt pointedly. “Be good.”
He holds up his hands in mock-surrender. “What have I ever done? You’re the one who gave me the world's most graphic good morning!”
You roll your eyes as you walk out. You rush back to Schlatt’s room and pull on a pair of his sweatpants. They were massively oversized on you, you had to roll the waistband at least four times. “WHEN I WAS IN THE SHOWER? ON THE COUCH?” You hear Ted yell through the wall. Schlatt apparently could not listen to simple instructions. You rush back to the kitchen to see Charlie and Eddie cackling at Ted and Schlatt are arguing. “No dude!” Schlatt yells. “Do you remember what she was wearing that day? You wouldn’t be able to resist either dumbass!”
He points at you like you were an example. “Schlatt.” You said, voice hard.
He knew what you meant immediately. He knows thats your you-need-to-shut-the-fuck-up-before-I beat-your-ass voice. “Sorry doll.” He mumbles, looking at the floor.
Charlie’s jaw falls back open. “Did- did I just hear JSchlatt use- use a- use a pet name? And apologize?”
Schlatt scowls at Charlie as he wraps his arms around your waist. “The fuck about it you fucking bimbo? Do you only call your girlfriend by her name?”
“No but like, I’m not you. I’m not a big ass tough guy.”
“Aw Schlatt’s not that tough, are you love?” You say, and boop Schlatt on the nose for added emphasis.
“Dude you’re fucking embaressing me,” He replies and buries his face into your neck.
Ted, Eddie and Charlie look aghast. This is not the man they know. Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but is shut down by a loud ringing from Schlatt’s phone. He pulls it out, looks at it and sighs. “I have to take this,” He says, annoyed.
He then shoots a pointed look at you. “Be good.” He says, copying you.
You dramatically nod and bat your eyelashes at him as he walks out. You turn back the group, and all of them open their mouths at once to start asking questions.
“So you woke up here?”
“Yup.”
“How often do you sleepover here?”
“Never.”
“The fuck you mean by that?”
“I live here.”
“EXCUSE ME?”
“Mhm.”
You point at a door across the living room. “That's where I stream from. Schlatt streams in the other spare bedroom upstairs.”
“You two live together?”
“Yup. Coming up on four months of living here.”
“You’re kidding right? There’s no way Schlatt can’t be heard screaming in the back of your streams?”
“He’s actually super quiet domestically.”
“Domestically?!? Sorry, are you guys like, in love?”
“Nope. Hate that guy.”
---
first schlatt fic ever yayy (i didn't want to post this to ao3 lol) tell if u guys like it and any requests or anything!!
#jschlatt x reader#schlatt x reader#jschlatt x y/n#schlatt x y/n#fanfic#rpf#jschlatt smut#schlatt smut#jschaltt#schlatt
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but she told me i can nail her sh*t
zoro x afab!reader
warning: smut
He licked his lips, panting and letting his head fall back. Eyes fluttering and jaw tight as you bounced your ass on him, his cock rock-hard inside of you.
"Damn" you heard his whisper. As you continued to ride him, he let out a grunt from deep within his throat. You smiled, as you loved when he was even the slightest bit vocal, giving you reassurance and confidence.
His large hands found their way to your thighs, then hips, then slightly cupped your ass, around your back, and up your waist and ribcage. Zoro was obsessed with how your body felt and wanted to explore...caress every inch.
For a while, he complied, letting you do all the work at your own pace. The tension in his muscles betrayed him from how much he wanted to move. And maybe it was the way you tugged his hair or the deliberate roll of your hips against his, but his patience snapped. With a low growl, his hands gripped your waist firmly. Before you could react, he shifted beneath you, lifting you up and bending his knees so that he could buck his hips properly.
You gasped, your body tense for a moment as you were surprised with the sudden change.
"My turn." he said, his voice low and rough with a smirk tugging at his lips. There was a fire in his gaze and you felt something pulsate between your thighs. Your control had been thrilling but now it was time for him to take over.
He begins to fuck you. Hard. His momentum starting of fast and then stabilizing. The sound of skin slapping and your little yelps was almost enough to get him off right then and there. Your breast bounce in his face like they're begging for attention. After a few moments, he sets you back down so you two can gain control of your breathing. You let out a small laugh through your thin breaths, fluttering around him, and just as it begins to even out, his hips are bucking you upwards again. His stamina is something to be reckoned with.
His hands move all the way up to your jaw this time, cupping your cheeks as he rails you. It feels so good. He feels so good but you're like putty in his hands. Your hips seemed to have locked up due to the pressure so you can't do anything but take it.
His hips jerk into you over and over and with every pump, you hiccup a half moan. Your hands move to hold his wrists as his hands still cup your face. He feels a flash of arousal knowing that you're just barely hanging on for the ride.
He's looking at you just before he comes, your jaw clenched but muttering a 'please' and 'zoro' here and there.
He's panting hard and drops his head back as he releases. It feels like euphoria. His heart beat hammers until it begins to slow. There's a ruggedness in your eyes and hair that makes him proud. Your thighs are too weak to even dismount from him. His hands go from your cheeks to your arms as he leans forward to kiss you.
****
Sanji’s voice broke through the quiet air on the deck. Zoro peeked through his eyes. His arms were crossed behind his head and his back against the mast as he watched Sanji approach you with a tray in hand, holding drinks. His grin stretched from ear to ear, and his eyes sparkled as he basked in your presence.
The exchange played out like a scene Zoro had seen many times before. Even after handing you the drink, Sanji lingered. All that flair. Such a try hard and you don’t even give him a second glance. Not that you were unkind- far from it. You always smiled, said thank you. It was always genuine.
Zoro didn’t hear all of what was said but he did catch the romantic undertone in the way Sanji said “I hope it pleases you” when referring to the beverage. Zoro tried to stifle a laugh but was unsuccessful as your eyes darted to him from behind Sanji. A faint twitch of amusement in your expression even when he tried to play it off.
Zoro was always giving Sanji a number.
“Number seven.”
“Fourth placer.”
Provoking the blonde cook filled him with subtle yet undeniable satisfaction. And last night, among the many shared nights, further convinced him that there, in fact, was a hierarchy between the two men.
If Sanji had even the slightest idea of what was going on between you and Zoro, he’d have an outburst, quite literally bursting into flames, and throwing some indignant response in Zoro’s direction.
You reminded Zoro of where he stood. It didn’t matter what Sanji did. You already made your choice.
#one piece#zoro fanfiction#zoro smut#roronoa zoro x y/n#roronoa zoro x you#one piece zoro#one piece fanfiction#roronoa zoro fanfiction#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro smut
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ive been reading a lot about transmascs/trans men throughout history (alexander durov, one eyed charley, albert cashier etc) and many of them from what ive seen were able to get pretty far without having their sex discovered and im just wondering how? i know you don't really need much to pass even in 'modern days' and that you don't need to medically transition to pass (i passed a lot before T in front of strangers)
does it really only come down to just not telling and the men around them not caring for their voice?
its a bit harder to research since so much of history involving transmascs are either scrubbed or they're deadnamed and misgendered once they're gone
idk maybe im just lowkey jealous because many of them rarely got questioned from what ive seen and they were generally respected while they were alive
you know, that's a good question
if i had to guess, i think part of the reason people are so focused on gender right now is because we have recorded media to refer back to. instead of referring to people in our real lives we know, people tend to refer to the highly scripted people they see on the television, tablet, etc. we are fixated on what women "should look, act and sound like" and the same for men because we have multiple industries pushing this narrative. the internet is probably also likely a huge problem.
instead of people pointing to someone they know in their life and going "oh yeah i knew a guy like that before, he just had a high pitched voice!" (<- is actually talking about a trans man who isn't publicly out) they refer to the sculpted, scripted, preened and airbrushed people they see in shows, movies, games and popular content on YouTube. i think we're becoming way less accepting of the diversity humanity offers by being continuously lambasted with what "conventional attractiveness" and gender roles should look like.
it may also have to do with the fact that trans rights and trans people only really became known to the general public within the last 100 years. cishet people really just did not know about or consider the idea of a trans person anywhere near as much as they do now. i have a feeling its a lot of backlash from the civil rights movements of the past and present. i think people may have just minded their business before they became painfully aware of the existence of trans people.
those are my guesses, anyway. i'd love to hear more from other people on this!
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Do you think the colour of a polyjuice potion says anything about a person?? I just remembered that Harry's turned a bright gold and wondered if it meant anything
Yes, I think the color does say something about a person (and also the taste). We know different people cause the potion to turn different color and taste:
“Ooh, you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry,” said Hermione, before catching sight of Ron’s raised eyebrows, blushing slightly, and saying, “Oh, you now what I mean—Goyle’s potion looked like bogies.”
(DH, Ch4)
So, let's look at all the Polyjuice potions we see.
Harry Potter:
Harry dropped the hair into the mudlike liquid. The moment it made contact with its surface, the potion began to froth and smoke, then, all at once, it turned a clear, bright gold. [...] Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Fleur, and Mundungus drank. All of them gasped and grimaced as the potion hit their throats.
(DH, Ch4)
Bellatrix Lestrange:
“She tasted disgusting, worse than Gurdyroots! Okay, Ron, come here so I can do you . . . .”
(DH, Ch26)
Mafalda Hopkirk:
Hermione drank the Polyjuice Potion, which was now a pleasant heliotrope color [purple]
(DH, Ch12)
Millicent Bulstrode's Cat:
The potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, it had turned a sick sort of yellow
(CoS, Ch12)
Vincent Crabbe:
Crabbe’s a dark, murky brown.
(CoS, Ch12)
Gregory Goyle:
Goyle’s turned the khaki color of a booger
[...]
Pinching his nose, Harry drank the potion down in two large gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage
(CoS, Ch12)
And Ron actually calls the Polyjuice someone's "essence":
“Urgh — essence of Millicent Bulstrode,” said Ron, eyeing it with loathing. “Bet it tastes disgusting.”
(CoS, Ch12)
And I think he isn't far off.
I think Polyjuice does reveal the "essence" of a person in a way.
Hair and nail clippings have been used in irl alchemy (there are theories that the "hair" is a code name to refer to other minerals and it's sometimes unclear, but sometimes it definitely refers to hair. Really depends on the book) for centuries. Now, hairrepresents a residue of the body. When taken from a living person (like with polyjuice) the hair would represent the person, who they are.
Albertus Magnus (13th-century alchemist) wrote that more gold can be found in the hair taken from a human's head. Now, the gold he wrote about isn't actually gold, but gold in alchemy refers to purity. Basically, human head hair is good for extracting the pure essence of a person. Like Aristotle, he calls hair mostly a mix of Earth and Water — the elements of the physical plane, the body. But head hair, specifically, due to it's closeness to the brain is more than just the physical aspect. It's mostly the physical aspects, but it includes elements of the spirit of the person.
So, head hair is the best way alchemically to get the purest essence of someone's appearance (body and a bit of spirit).
So what do we learn about characters from their polyjuice?
Well, bitter people, taste bitter. Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent, and Bellatrix all tasted terrible according to the Golden Trio. They tasted terrible because they were terrible people.
What I want to note a bit here, is that Harry's didn't taste great either. Better than Crabbe, Goyle, or Bellatrix, but the Order is still described as gasping and grimacing at the taste. My guess, due to the language used, is that the taste of Harry's polyjuice wasn't exactly bad, per se, but was kinda strong and unexpected. What the taste was, we unfortunately don't know, nor could I find the color of the potion for Bellatrix (my guess would be an almost black dark green that's a bit translucent like you added a bit of coloring to water). But, let's look at the colors we do have.
Crabbe - Murkey Brown. Goyle - khaki color (both shades of brown), Millicent's cat - sickly yellow, Mafalda - a pleasant deep purple, and Harry is gold, but I'll keep him for last.
Brown (both Crabbe and Goyle) is reliable, simple, stable, and consistent. But it's also boring, dull, timid, and predictable. Since both are described as ugly browns, the intention is to evoke the negative symbolism of brown.
Yellow can be optimistic, intelligent, and warm, but it can also be cowardly and deceptive. Millicent's cat's yellow is specifically described as a sickly yellow — so, to me, it suggests her cat's unpleasant. But it's also not a potion meant to be used with animal hair, so who knows.
A purple like Mafalda's is interesting. It's described as a nice color, the positive symbolism of purple includes: wisdom, compassion, and royalty. But purple can also symbolize: oversensitivity, immaturity, or hypervigilance. I think, what it says about Mafalda is that she is a pleasant and compassionate person who is just invested in a shitty institution (the ministry). From the color of her potion, it seems she isn't a bad person. Additionally, heliotropes represent the sun, fire, and abundance — positive things.
Now, Harry's potion tuning gold is one of these really interesting things. You see, in Alchemy gold is everything that is pure and good and perfect. Gold is the purest form all materials want to achieve. The Philosopher's Stone, the symbol of immortality and perfection (it's the perfect material), can turn anything into gold. The Elixer of Life produced from the stone, in theory, would be in gold in color. Gold is the color of immortality and purity and perfection. It's the sun and fire and life and abundance and good fortune. Gold is the cure-all and be-all. Alchemists considered it indestructible, pure, and perfect:
But the alchemists were most deeply impressed by its apparent indestructibility: it does not tarnish in air or water, is not appreciably volatilized or oxidized in melting, and is not attacked by any chemical reagent then available. It was therefore regarded as the 'perfect' metal.
(Prof. Dorthy Wyckoff note in her translation of The Book of Minerals by Albertus Magnus)
This honestly really strengthens my theory that Harry was always the Master of Death. If the color that represents Harry's essence (his body and spirit, aka life) is gold — the color of immortality, perfection, and purity — it means he already is in his perfected form. He already is the philosopher Stone AKA Master of Death.
See, in alchemy, in the process of making the Philosopher's Stone, the alchemist is also working on themselves. The work is both on the minerals and on the alchemist. The alchemist would become their perfect, purest self while doing the "Great Work" and would only be able to create the Philosopher's Stone when they themselves, are also their purest ("golden") selves.
What I'm saying is that Harry, by his essence being bright gold, is implied to already be there at the perfection point. He is already at the point where he could make the Philosopher's Stone. So, him being the MoD and already sorta immortal, just really fits that.
Even in the world of HP the color "gold" is associated with immortality. The fire from Harry and Voldemort's wands is gold because of the Phoenix Feather core. Phoenix's in HP are associated with gold, which also connects gold to immortality. Again, this all hints at Harry being the MoD all along.
#harry potter#hp#hp meta#asks#anonymous#hollowedtheory#harry potter meta#harry james potter#hp magical theory#alchemy#bellatrix lestrange#gregory goyle#vincent crabbe
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thinking about the curtis’ unlocked door policy. everyone on the west side knows that if they have an issue, part of the curtis gang or not, they can have shelter at the curtis house.
thinking about darry mentioning it offhandedly with his football buddies. something along the lines of “oh yeah, one time we woke up and *insert outlandish person* was just sleeping on our floor”. the socs never thought anything of it, besides that it was a bit odd. they couldn’t imagine having to rely on a stranger for support. whenever they have to escape their own houses for whatever reason, they just go to their own friends.
maybe paul had used this policy once or twice, after getting into arguments with his parents. but paul had come to hang out at the house before so it wasn’t totally weird to see him in the living room, just sitting on the couch when they woke up. but he was the only one from the west side of town that would ever dare to use it.
but then i’m thinking about post canon events and one of the soc boys (i’m imagining brill but i think it’s more likely for it to be chet) is just not handling things well. they get out and get super drunk, maybe into a bar fight. they can’t go home because they’re drunk and bloody and spiraling. maybe depending on which one it is, their parents would hit them if they knew they were drunk. or maybe their parents aren’t so bad but they just can’t risk disappointing them. so they’re just outside, wandering around tulsa and they find themselves on the east side and see the lot where bob died. and it doesn’t help their spiraling so they keep walking and eventually they see the curtis house and they remember how darry and paul used to reference the unlocked door. they figure going to the greasers is probably safer than going home, and if the greasers did do anything, it wouldn’t be anything they deserve. so they’re let themselves into the house, only to find darry sitting on the recliner. he was asleep but the sound of the door had woken him up. “keith? that you?” when they finally round the corner and darry sees him, darry doesn’t know how to feel. “i just need a place to sleep tonight. i can’t go home. i remember you used to talk about keeping the door unlocked.” when darry doesn’t immediately answer, he turns around to leave. “sorry, this is stupid. i shouldn’t have come here. i’ll go.” darry stops him from leaving. “you can spend the night. just don’t be shocked in the morning if one of the guys starts threatening you when they find you on the couch in the morning.”
(the next morning, whichever soc boy it was definitely woke up to two bit poking him in face and darry being like ‘keith, i already told you that i gave him permission to stay here. lay off of him’)
#the outsiders musical#the outsiders broadway#the outsiders fanfic#the outsiders darry#darry curtis#the outsiders brill#clark brillstein#the outsiders chet#chet baker
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Oh, I wouldn't say freed... More like, under new management!
Spoilers for 5.3 Natlan Archon Quest!
Yan!Pantalone x GN! Reader (x Yan!Capitano)
Summary: Having clawed his ways from the slums of Liyue Harbour to being seated at the table of a God, seizing opportunities has become Pantalone's second nature and now that the first harbinger is... indefinitely indisposed, what kind of banker would he be if he didn't capitalise on such a unique situation by finally stealing away Capitano's precious consort, the same one that has plaguing his every waking moment since the very moment he first laid eyes upon them?
Warnings: Sensitive themes, Yandere Behaviours, do you have stockholm syndrome or are you going mad from social isolation? your choice!, manipulation, social isolation, anxiety, you're all around not having a good time, mild nsfw implications, fearing for your life (not from Pantalone), losing the will to go on, you literally can't catch a break
3.5K Words
A/N: did i intend for the title to be a Megamind reference...? perchance... also please forgive any inconsistencies or grammatical errors. I have not yet finished the Natlan archon quest but I've seen the spoilers and i hope that fine ass man rests in peace. I'm still high on copium and am praying that because his body is still alive then Dottore can work his magic and fix him somehow someway (if that happens i may even write a part 2 in celebration! Or even if it doesn't!)
Anyone who knew anything about the first harbinger would be well aware of the reverence and tenderness he lavished onto you. Your safety and protection would forever be at the forefront of the harbingers mind, before retrieving the gnosis, or bringing glory to the Tsaritsa or even striking down the heavenly principles. As such it’s not unusual for the harbinger to keep you sequestered away in the dark, lonesome manor you have learnt to call home ever since your marriage. After several years it was now commonplace for Capitano to be gone for days and weeks at a time, hardly breathing a goodbye, just pressing one adoring and gentle kiss to the back of your hand and a second hot, gruff kiss to your lips before storming out of the door, blade sheathed on his belt.
This time he had strayed from the established routine, Capitano had warned you that he might be gone for a bit longer than usual but he would return to your arms within a month. You remembered the silent voice in your head bitterly wishing that he would never return, how the heavenly principles love to play their cosmic jokes.
After a month had passed and the letters from your husband (since you were wed he had made a point of writing you a detailed letter every single day, describing his journey and detailing how dearly he missed you and how everyday away from your side was utter agony) had stopped arriving. You had spent hours pouring over every letter he had sent since his departure but not once did he mention anything that could explain his sudden silence. That was the second thing that unnerved you, if there was one thing you had learnt through your several years of marriage to the first harbinger, it was that his loyalty and devotion was second to none. The idea that your ever loyal hound would stray from his routine was peculiar enough. Once another week had passed without any word from or about Capitano you began to pester the servants and guards for any information from the outside world but they refused to breathe a word to you.
Although you publicly admitted you held much contempt for Capitano for prying you from your home, you couldn’t help the unease that seeped into your bones. You had spent countless mornings watching him train, the brute force and unrestrained power he used to slam his blade down into the frozen ground, the innumerable agents he dispatched with one measured swing of his sword and on rare occasion when you were close enough to danger to personally witness (a scarce occurrence as even leaving the estate was uncommon) how his onyx blade was stained with a viscous crimson inch or that seemed to seep everywhere, even sticking to the fur of his cloak. When he pulled you into his chest after the fighting was done you’ll never forget how sickening the coppery scent was, clinging to the inside of your nose until you felt like you were suffocating on it. That combined with the utter love-sick devotion he had proven himself a slave to, you found the idea that anything could prevent Capitano from writing other than death to be utterly humorous. Somehow despite the hatred you harboured in your heart for the man, the idea of a man of Capitano’s impossibly imposing stature somehow being struck down felt impossible, even if it was the pyro archon herself to do so. You simply refused to entertain such an idea. That night you had come to a conclusion: There has been a mix up! or the messenger was attacked on the road! or maybe Capitano's letters slipped right out of the messengers pack and he simply hasn't realised. You repeated these mantras to yourself compulsively.
But as the weeks continued to amble on by with no word from your husband you couldn’t help but find that a more extreme reason to be the only excuse for his sudden silence.
As you spent days pondering on the possibility of your captor’s passing, the idea that any day now a Fatui official would wander in and give you an official declaration of Capitano’s passing and would send you on your way with perhaps a pouch of Mora for your troubles. The more you fantasised about your freedom being returned to you, the more you realised how unlikely such an occurrence was. That morning you had been nothing short if giddy, any day now you would be free to return to your family and you could pretend these past years were nothing short of a bad dream - by evening your joy had turned to ash in your throat. If your husband (even after several years of calling him that, it still caused your throat to constrict painfully as though the very word was poison) had truly been defeated then you had become nothing to the Fatui but another loose end to tie up. There was no way they could know for sure just how much information regarding the sensitive inner workings of the Fatui that Capitano had shared with you. There was no way they would let you wander free when you were a living, breathing compromise to all their plans. Even in the event of his death, you shall be returned to his arms soon enough. You couldn’t stop an overwhelming feeling of defeat swallow you like a wave as the realisation hit you that nothing would bring Capitano greater joy.
After several weeks of agonising suspense you had debased yourself to pleading with the servants and guards for even just a rumour of what was to become of you. Again, they showed you nothing but cold indifference as they continued their tasks, completely unaffected by your desperate pleas.
Your feet bled from the constant pacing as your mind was utterly consumed with anxiety. The unknown and the terror of what was to come had driven you half mad with unease. All day you wept for how unfairly your life would end, never truly getting to live before your life was stripped from you. All night you didn’t dare get even a wink of sleep for fear one of the guards would slip into your chambers and finally put an end to you. Your mind had endlessly ran through every possibility of escape but it seemed just as impossible as it had before, if not more so. You weren’t sure if the isolation and fear was finally taking complete control but you were almost certain there were more guards surrounding the estate now then there had been prior to Capitano’s departure.
That night you sat on the floor of your chambers, hunched over your bed as you wept into the thick duvet for even a brief illusion of comfort. Your hands were clasped tightly together in prayer, crimson crescents marring your hands with the frantic devotion you called out to your Goddess. Sobbing into the bedsheets you called aloud for the Tsaritsa, beseeching her to take some mercy on her devoted follower and either return Capitano to you safely or offer you a quick and clean death and put an end to this torment for you couldn't bare another day of it.
For the first time in days and after hours of desperate cries for your goddess to extend you some of her benevolence, you slipped into an uneasy slumber, half expecting to wake up to a blade to your throat yet you had lost the will to endure. As the sun rose you were awoken by the distinct noise of the main doors slamming shut as heavy footsteps strode into the Grand Foyer. Breathlessly you rose to your feet, certain that the Tsaritsa had heard your prayed and returned your husband to you. You scrambled as fast as you could down the winding corridors, paying no mind to how your limbs were trembling with adrenaline or the rumpled nightclothes you were still dressed in. As you burst through the door you skidded to a halt on the polished marble floors. Instead of being greeted by Capitano’s open embrace, ready to sweep you into his arms now that you were finally reunited, your eyes instead landed upon the ninth harbinger who now stood just a few feet in front of you, his gloved hands clasped tightly behind his back as he gave you what appeared to be an attempt at a genuine smile.
You froze. In your relief at the possibility of Capitano’s return you hadn’t even registered this as an outcome. You had only met Pantalone perhaps once before, at your wedding a few years prior. That had been the only day Capitano had permitted you to be around any of colleagues. What was already no doubt an uncomfortable event for all involved but the groom had only been exacerbated by the eccentric personalities seated in the audience. You had sobbed the entire way through the ceremony with two Fatui soldiers having to grip onto your arms and practically force you down the aisle. At the very least the 11th harbinger had the decency to look genuinely concerned as you were dragged down the aisle. You had half thought the man might attempt to put a stop to it but when the time came to ask for objections not one person came forward. After the ceremony you could also recall an interaction with the knave. Although the whole day had been a blur, you remembered that she briefly took you aside and sternly forced her handkerchief into your hand, refusing to take no for an answer. You wouldn’t exactly call the woman doting but whatever small sympathy the woman was capable of, it’s clear she had attempted to extend them to you. You had spent many nights after the ceremony thinking back on your interactions with all the harbingers, Pierro and Pulcinella’s cold indifference at the ceremony, Sandrone and Dottore’s impatience to leave as quickly as socially acceptable to return to whatever invention or experiment had currently caught their attention, the varying looks of pity you received from Tartaglia, Arlecchino and La Signora, the quiet smile on Columbina’s face and… the one harbinger you just couldn’t get a read on. Pantalone had turned to watch as you were forced down the aisle and his eyes had not left you once since. Even as the festivities had begun and Capitano had whirled your reluctant form across the crystalline ballroom of Zapolyarny Palace, his eyes didn’t once move from you. Now you were feet away from him and his eyes enclosed around you once more, fixated so wholly on you as though nothing else in the world could or would ever matter even remotely as much as you did in this moment.
Your breath hitched as he sauntered closer, removing his finely crafted leather gloves from his hands. You shut your eyes at once, although you could no longer see him, you could hear the clicks of his shoes echoing through the foyer and getting closer. Once he was but a few inches away from you, you tensed your shoulders to brace for impact but it never came. You couldn’t help but flinch as you felt both his hands clasp firmly down on your shoulders, holding you in place. After several seconds you finally allowed your eyes to flutter open. Pantalone’s eyes bored into yours as he tutted with what was likely an attempt to display sympathy but instead came off as patronising.
”Now now” he breathed out, his hands now began to rub up and down your shoulders in soothing motions “There’s no need to look so frightened” he exhaled, almost sounding amused.
”Where is Capitano?” you asked. You hardly recognised your own voice with how hoarse it had become from the past weeks of weeping.
”Shh shh shh” he muttered, his hands moving from your shoulders, up to your cheeks. He cupped your face affectionately as he spoke in a gentle tone as though afraid the slightest upset might frighten you off. With a deep sigh he began “I’m afraid Capitano is occupied… indefinitely. No matter how dearly I’m sure he would wish to see you, I’m afraid you won’t be reunited for a long time yet.” He paused for a moment, his gaze darting across your face for any idea of your internal workings. His stare was bright and brilliant, even when hidden behind the glasses that sat firmly on the bridge of his nose. He made you feel exposed, as though every second under his stare he stripped away a little more of your walls. He left you feeling bare and cold, you wanted to shrink away from the ninth harbinger. He had told you what you needed to hear and now you wanted to sink back into the depths of the manor and await whatever fate had in store for you, as long as it was far away from him. After another moment of his assessment he seemed satisfied and continued
”It’s with a heavy heart that I bring the news that the mission to acquire the Pyro Archon’s gnosis was not successful” his tone was one of deep sorrow however you could see the tiniest ghost of a smirk dancing across his face as his attempted to maintain composure. “Of course I am delegating as much funding as financially possible to restore your husband however I’m afraid the damage was quite extensive, It’s unlikely that even with the unparalleled scientific minds in the Fatui that we will ever be able to return him to you.”
Once again your heart began to patter against your ribcage. If what Pantalone said was true then you truly were a liability. You cleared your throat and took a deep breath before you spoke, desperate to at least maintain a façade of dignity in the face of such dire circumstances
”Have you come here to kill me then?” You asked him. In response the harbingers eyebrows shot up almost comically, for the first time this morning he looked completely astounded.
”Kill you? Now why ever would I do that?” His hands were still planted firmly on your cheeks, his cool skin soothing on the heat on your cheeks as his thumb tenderly traced the tear tracks that were still emblazoned on your cheeks from your night of sorrowful prayer. He hummed contentedly before continuing, “admittedly there were a few of my colleagues that had suggested to wash our hands of you entirely and slip some arsenic in your food or simply have one of the soldiers stick a blade through your heart” He paused again, assessing you. He could almost feel your breath hitch as he inched slightly closer, his thumb now tracing idle patterns on your cheeks “don’t worry my dear, I shut down such discussions swiftly. I would never wish to have the blood of someone so lovely on my hands. No, that wouldn’t do at all” Now he let a full grin fall across his face. You believe he was attempting to make it comforting but instead it felt predatory, like a lion grinning down at a lamb. “My colleagues and I have thankfully come to a compromise. Although I’m certain you would never run and spill any secrets you may have learnt from your time in such close proximity to Capitano… unfortunately several of my fellow harbingers didn’t feel quite so confident in your loyalty.” One of his hands now reached to brush through your hair gently, his grin grew until he was baring all his teeth at you. Now he didn’t just feel like a lion, he looked like one too “For the foreseeable future you will be taking up residence at my estate. Please don’t fret my lady, I’ll ensure you are well looked after.” His watched you expectantly, as though he believed this to be wonderful news for you. You stared at him blankly. Last night you had prayed to the Tsaritsa for your husband returned home or death but it would appear she had managed to present you with a 3rd, much more terrifying option. Although he may not be quite as physically imposing as Capitano, he somehow made you feel much smaller. Every shared touch and exchanged glance with Pantalone felt intimate and expectant, every brief glance at your lips was a promise of something more to come, every tender caress a precursor for a carnal embrace. Even now he seemed half shocked you hadn’t jumped into his arms in glee at the news you would now be staying with him. Of course you were thankful that he had intervened on your behalf and given you another chance at life but a more animalistic and instinctual part of you as you stood here alone with Pantalone you almost would have preferred being left in this dark, reclusive manor to rot. Capitano took so much from you but he left you your dignity, your sense of personhood, despite his desire to take and take until there was nothing left, he had always strove to be selfless for your sake. With a man like Pantalone, even now with his grip on your face, deceptively light but the muscles in his fingers were tense, ready to clamp down the moment he deemed in necessary. From what little you knew of Pantalone from Capitano’s descriptions, he was the head of the Northland bank and had built himself an immeasurable amount of wealth. Did Pantalone know when you've taken too much from someone? Did he care?
Part of you wished to pry his hands off your cheeks and flat out refuse him, scream out that you want nothing to do with him and flee back to you bed chambers like a child but unfortunately the rational part of you took over, the part of you that was screaming at you to seize this last chance at life he was offering you and so when he extended his hand to you and whispered into your ear in a saccharine tone “Shall we?” You couldn’t help but accept.
Pantalone's POV:
The carriage ride back to his estate wasn't long but he had given his driver instructions to extend it for as long as possible. You seemed bewildered when he sat right by your side, thigh to thigh, instead of sitting across from you. His arms wrapped tightly around your shoulder, constricting you to his side like a serpent. You were sat close enough to his side that he could smell the saccharine smell that emanated from you.
Since the moment he first saw you he had known that there was no one else in the world for him but you. Every single night since he saw you, he couldn't sleep with the extremity of his yearning. It was indescribable agony to know that you were laying in the bed of the First harbinger. Innumerable priceless artefacts and artworks had been destroyed in his rage at the thought of you being by that undeserving wretches' side. Now having you so close after yearning and longing for countless years, it was a high unlike anything else. Feeling your skin against his, you were so close that he could almost feel your warm breath on his skin, it took every scrap of restraint in his body to not begin to ravage you the moment the carriage door shut.
He knew he could never challenge his fellow harbinger publicly, especially not one so revered as Capitano and he knew where his strengths lied. If it came down to a duel then there was a slim chance he would succeed.
However as he matured from a street urchin to the wealthiest man in Snezhnaya, he had learnt that if you cannot beat them at their own game then simply don't play it. It had taken several years of calling in favours, pulling countless strings and funding dozens of failed experiments and dead-end expeditions in order to convince his fellow harbingers that it would be best if Capitano faced the pyro archon alone.
Of course he didn't receive the news of Capitano's supposed immortality well but it doesn't matter that he is still breathing. He may as well be a corpse at this point. He's sure that by passing the funding for a few more of Dottore's experiments then he can convince him to put the matter of restoring Capitano's soul on the back burner.
He had come to terms with how risky this plan was the moment he first set it into place several years ago but he has formed his entire career on a succession of flawlessly executed gambles. His entire life he has been beating the odds and he's not going to stop now that the recently widowed object of his adoration and obsession sits a mere inch away, still draped in nothing but their thin night clothes.
He will admit that perhaps it was cruel to keep you waiting all those weeks, he should have come to collect you the moment the news reached him of Capitano's failure but when he saw the frantic, desperate look in your eyes as you burst into the room, he knew that he had made the right call. You weren't in the position to deny him anything now. He could finally rest easy knowing you were seated right in the palm of his hand, exactly where you belonged.
#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#genshin#genshin impact#yandere genshin imagines#yandere#yandere capitano x reader#yandere capitano#yandere capitano x you#il capitano#capitano#natlan spoilers#yandere pantalone x reader#pantalone x reader#pantalone x you#pantalone x y/n#yandere pantalone#yandere regrator x reader#yandere fatui harbingers#fatui harbingers#fatui x reader#pantalone#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader
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Hi, love your Au and your art!
Since the Drax boys have lived in the Hidden City their whole lives, they have a much better sense of community than the Donnie. Even if they aren't the most well liked since I assume most yokai find their views on human's extreme. They can still go down to a supermarket, a restaurant, a park. All things in which Donnie has never been able to do out in daylight. How would they react onto figuring out. "Oh, crap this kid is a socially isolated weirdo [affectionate]." Like would they do a montage of dragging Donnie to all their favorite places? Also, I imagine that yokai culture has different faux pas, any Donnie might just accidentally do something offensive, like how he did in Witch town by not collecting the worms right. Or he might accidentally do something incredibly dangerous like go to a place with gangs or go to Big Mama's and he'd have no idea because Donnie's not a resident of the Hidden City. Also, do you think Yokai celebrate Christmas or New Years? I imagine it would be very weird for Donnie to see people that look like you and be under the same category of 'freak' (in the human city) just walking around doing everyday things. Especially since Donnie's spent his whole life hiding, walking around and not worrying about if some human scientist is going to nab you must be world-endingly weird. Also, it would probably give Donnie hope for things he's never been able to do before. Make a proper friend group, own a home in a neighborhood, and go to college. All the regular teen things he see's people in the movies and April doing.
Also, something I've always wondered in canon, do you think Donnie has his shots? Since he can't access a regular doctor, do you think he's just like a carrier of every single dead disease. I assume he's probably immune to a lot of sicknesses because of how Draxum made them. But imagine Draxums reaction when he wants to get Donnie's medical records (I imagine Draxum is a stickler for health, shots, and Doctor checkups as a form of affection) and Donnie has to tell him he's literally never been to an actual Doctor. I imagine at some point he made records for himself, but that was probably when he got a bit older, so for the first seven years or so, Splinter was just hoping Donnie didn't come down with anything deadly.
I'm also betting that the Drax boys are a bit smarter than canon because Draxum seems like the type of person to do ZERO skimping on education. Like yes, Donnie's still smarter, however I do think they Drax boys are just smarter than canon, like they probably know high school algebra, science, yokai history all that stuff. I think it would be cool to see the boys reference a piece of yokai culture of history and Donnie just be like ".....what". I imagine it make him very mad to be out of the loop in any piece of knowledge. However, Donnie could make a human pop culture reference and also get the Drax boys confused.
LMAO yeah it's quite weird for Donnie to be able to just. Walk around in public without having to worry about anyone finding out that he's a mutant. It takes him a while to adjust to the fact that he doesn't have to hide his turtle-features amongst yōkai, he probably instictually keeps doing it for a while at first (keeping to the shadows and wearing clothes that hides his appearence, stuff like that).
His brothers are quite eager to introduce Donnie to all the cool stuff in The Hidden City that he's been missing out on. And while part of Donnie's difficulty with social interactions is just a symptom of him being autistic, him growing up so isolated definitely made things even harder for him. A lot of his knowledge about social etiquette he learned from like........ shows and movies, and I don't think 80s martial arts- and campy sci-fi-movies are the best teachers on how to interact with others lol. He had April of course, but she's one person and also kind of a weirdo too. And all of that just may have given him insight on how to socialize in human society, he's very unprepared for yōkai society!
His brothers really don't mind this, partially because Donnie's behavior is so similar to Draxum so they honestly just find it endearing. They also fully expected Donnie to have been completely traumatized from living amongst humans. The fact that he's (mostly) fine, just a bit eccentric, is great news to them! Also a lot of yōkai consider the entire Draxum family to be a bunch of weirdos too, maybe Donnie doesn't really fit in amongst other yōkai as much as he'd liked but he DOES fit in amongst his family, both the Hamatos and the Draxums! :]
Also LMAOOO- Splinter: "This is my son Donatello, he has every disease"
Honestly..... yeah Donnie kinda mostly relied on his mutation-enhanced immune system growing up. Donnie, being a NERD, might have figured out how to get himself vaccinated for at least some stuff eventually. I also imagine with Splinter knowing he himself is the closest thing to a medic he or Donnie were ever gonna get access to, he put in effort into research and other precautions to be safe. That being said, he's not an expert, and while I do believe the Hamato Ninja Training included some basic medical training like first aid and such, there's the small problem of both Splinter and Donnie both having EXTREMELY weird biology on account of the mutation, so Splinter kinda just had to guess a lot and hope for the best when it came to Donnie's health
Regardless, I absolutely belive that as soon as Donnie's relationship with Draxum became slightly less hostile, Draxum managed to convince Donnie to sit down for a checkup. And OMG Draxum being so concerned about his kids' health as a form of affection is both adorable and hilarious 😭
And yup the Drax Bros got a much better education in the AU compared to canon lmaooo (Leo still doesn't like reading books though). Donnie is still definitely the most academically gifted, but yeah his brothers of course are going to know a lot more about yōkai stuff in general, which kinda makes Donnie a little bit insecure. Specifially when Raph, Mikey and Leo start talking about something yōkai-related that Donnie is completely ignorant of, then that makes him feel a bit left out. Of course, then he, April will talk about something human-related and then his brothers are the ones out of the loop (aside from maybe Leo he knows quite a bit about human pop-culture)
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"One of these days." Daryl Dixon Imagine.
For you and your husband, trying to find the right time to have a little fun is not always so easy.
A/N: Just a imagine that made me smile while I was writing it hehe, so I hope you guys enjoy it a bit too. Thanks! (with a small appearance of Denise fearing Daryl XD) (Not my gif!)
Daryl lifts you up for you to sit in the counter of the living room, his lips crashing against yours in a hard kiss as his hands pulls you close to him by the waist, the heat of your bodies getting mixed with the sole idea of feeling each other after almost two weeks apart.
The last search for supplies had taken longer than usual, and between his arrival and your days and sleepless nights in the infirmary accompanying some sick people with Denise, the bed in your home had only recognized one lonely body.
Now, your hands tangle in his hair kissing him back, his tongue playing with yours, getting from your husband a low growl when your legs pull him close, feeling the bulge in his pants against you. Taking a ragged breath before sinking back into your skin, Daryl takes your black t-shirt off and his hands caress your soft skin as he kisses your neck, missing the contact with it; and too excited to waste time because he has to leave again soon. But your mind clouds with desire like a foggy morning, so you push his vest out of his body and start unbuttoning his shirt while Daryl kisses the skin between your breasts, making you moan.
“Do we really have time to do this?” You try to be reasonable, but your hands are still holding onto the buckle of his pants.
“Yeah…” He said, in a low, deep voice, but Daryl couldn't care less if he is late as he starts to unbutton your jeans. “Let me get ya ready.”
There was something extremely hot when he did that, like being in a beautiful hell in the way Daryl always ate you up first, like it was his duty, and his words make you lick your dry lip, feeling his on your belly that contracts with the heat of his tongue.
But when he is about to pull your jeans down, someone knocks the door, insistently.
“Shit…” He growls in frustration, getting up.
“Coming!” You get off the counter, putting your t-shirt back while he does the same with his shirt.
You start fixing your jeans as you walk toward the door to open it, feeling your cheeks red and hot while you smile at Denise.
“Hey, Denise.”
“Hey, (Y/N).” She smiles back. “Is Daryl home? I hope he hasn’t left yet.”
You nod, clearing your throat in fear that your voice will crack.
“He’s getting ready. Something happened?”
“No, no…” She moves her hand in the air, pulling a paper of her jean pocket next. “I forgot to write some things on the list I gave him yesterday.”
Behind you, the door opens and Daryl walks out, dressed and with his crossbow and his backpack around his body. He looks normal, his hair is kind of messy, but it usually is so nobody could tell the difference.
“Oh, hey…” Denise smiles at him, and he nods once at her while taking the paper, his personality usually becoming silent with people he didn't feel comfortable with yet. “I just wanted to give you this. Sorry to bother you.”
“No. It’s okay…” You say and look at your husband. “Daryl has to go now. Right, love?”
Daryl looks back at you, frustrated for your interrupted play time.
“Yeah. I better go.” He kisses your temple and looks at Denise. “Bye.”
He goes down the steps of the porch, walking away.
“Remember to keep it cool.” You chuckle, referring to his erection that would take time to get down. “And please be careful.”
Looking over his shoulder, Daryl waves his hand in the air, because that is his special way of telling you that he will be careful.
Life within the walls of Alexandria moved slowly, calmly like a sleeping river instead of feeling like wild waves, giving you and the family you made when that new world arose, a sense of peace after having been wandering out there for so long, dangerously all the time. Fortunately, life there was kind of peaceful, and that had stopped the chaos in your worlds and the fear that some members of the family sometimes fell into. But that night, as you return home from work, you can allow yourself the luxury of admiring the bright moon that shines and illuminates your path, as a sign that for that moment at least, the darkness of the world is no longer as terrifying as it used to be.
“Were you married to Daryl before all this, (Y/N)? Or did you meet him when all this madness started?”
Denise is reserved and shy, but there is also a sweetness in her that is still preserved, intact, like a living proof that there were still good people in the world.
“We actually met like two years before all this.” The memory makes you smile at her, a latent feeling awakening in your heart with some shyness. “We had been married for a few months when the dead started to rise.”
Denise nods, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“Daryl is… intimidating…” She chuckles nervously, but there is something in your soft laugh that encourages her to continue. “But in this time that you two have been living here I have noticed the way he looks at you, or how Daryl looks for you with his eyes in a room full of people, at community meetings for example. But he is not very talkative, is he?”
You laugh again, a little longer this time as you see your husband sitting on the porch steps a few houses away.
"Daryl is quiet, very reserved, and has a hard time letting people into his life, but when he feels like he can trust people, you can tell that Daryl cares a lot about them."
“And he was the same with you?”
You think about that, remembering that when he saw that he could trust you, Daryl became open to showing his own vulnerabilities, only with you, so it was easier to fall for him. Plus, he was and is still hot as hell.
“Something like that...” You nod softly. “Trust me, a couple of times I was close to throwing something at his head for being so stubborn and surly, but Daryl has a good heart. Just give him time to get used to this life, okay?”
Denise nods again, falling silent as you both finally stop at your house, with her waving at him and receiving a nod in response.
“Have a good night.” Her gaze meets yours, and you smile at her before she walks away to her own home.
And when Denisse is away, you chuckle as you walk over to the porch to sit next to Daryl.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“She’s terrified of you.” You chuckle even more as his brow furrows, his gaze on yours. “You scared the poor woman.”
Confused, Daryl watches the path Denisse took, for a few seconds before looking back at you.
“Did I do somethin' wrong?”
“No. It’s just that you’re so quiet that she feels kind of shy. But you could try talking to her a little, don’t you think?”
Even more confused, Daryl's gaze takes in an empty spot beside you, the white picket fence before looking back at you.
"What should I say?"
You shrug.
"I don't know. Maybe say something more than just a hey." When your hand makes contact with his cheek, Daryl leans into your touch. "Maybe show her that you are a sweetheart."
He scoffs.
"I ain't a sweetheart."
You chuckle.
“What are you talking about? You are a sweetheart with me.”
"Yeah, but jus’ ‘cause I love ya."
His words make you smile as you both lean into each other's lips. After Daryl let you in, you realized he had a lot to offer as a person with a good and brave heart. He was always a good company: he made you feel protected, in the old world too and even when you could protect yourself, but above all, it was damn cute to see him get embarrassed when you teased him, always masking his blush with a snort.
But when things got hot, like now, Daryl could be even hotter as you feel his hands on your waist, searching for the warmth of your skin under your t-shirt until he found it, sliding his calloused fingers over your flesh, sinking you into a new kind of desire. His touch is a silent plea for you to climb his lap, and you do, his hands holding you against him as his mouth takes yours in a hot kiss. Daryl chokes a grunt in your mouth, but you can feel his erection and he pushes your body down, dying to be inside you.
“Let’s do it here.” He says against your mouth. “S’dark and everyone is sleepin’.”
“Wow. That’s kinky.” You chuckle, your hands searching for his belt as he kisses your neck. But since life has a sense of humor, you can see the light of the living room turn on through the window, seeing Carol coming closer to the door. “Wait…”
Daryl growls in frustration, again when you get off his lap, but he learns forward a little bit to hide the bulge on his pants when Carol opens the door of the house you all share.
“Hey, guys, I thought you two were sleeping…” She says, smiling affectionately at you two. “I was looking for some water and I saw the kitchen light was already on, but… did I interrupt something?”
“No.” Daryl says looking over his shoulder, in a low, hoarse voice.
She looks at you, but you only smile shaking your head.
“Okay, then. Goodnight.” Carol waves her hand before closing the door again.
You wave her back, your own body falling against the railing.
“And… strike two.” You chuckle when Daryl lay down on the floor, covering his eyes with his arm.
That night, you may have used the shadows and darkness of your room to make love, but it still felt weird about doing it knowing that you and Daryl lived with Carol and Tara, even though you were a married couple, but at the same time, the thought made you laugh: because it felt wrong like the first time Daryl climbed through your bedroom window when you two were dating, before the world went to hell, because that night, everything became adult content.
The next morning, the day started early with you organizing the new medications that had been found during the last supply run, alone in the infirmary, accompanied by a comfortable silence as Denise took a day to explore her new relationship with Tara. And it was nice to think about that, in the mounting nerves that came with finding out things about the other person, the way you looked at her or him, the smiles and the shy laughs, the way your world suddenly seemed to fit together perfectly with them.
But when a knock on the door brings you out of your thoughts, you're surprised to see Daryl on the other side when you open it.
"What are you doing here, sir?"
"What? I can't visit ma wife at work?" He walks in, looking around as you close the door again. You walk back to the desk, stopping in front of the last few medicine bottles in the center. "On ma way here I saw Denise."
"You talked?"
Daryl, who was still walking around the room, stops, frowning in confusion.
"I'm not mute, woman."
You laugh.
"I didn't mean it like that, I meant that since we got here you haven't said more than one word to her."
Daryl mutters something under his breath, turning his attention back to the place as you continue reading the open book at your side. He spends like a minute or two in silence, reading the medicine descriptions from the shelves or touching the medical instruments, at least until you feel his body against you from behind, his hands on your waist as Daryl breathes in the smell of apples in your hair, thanks to the bottle of shampoo that came with the house.
Your tied hair gives him the freedom to kiss your exposed neck, and your belly flexes at the touch of his hands.
"I knew you came to see me for other reasons."
Daryl chuckles, and you breathe in, feeling the tingling between your legs.
“I've missed ya, I've missed the warmth of yer body.” His voice is always low, but it gets sexier when you feel that he’s that happy to see you. ““And we haven’t done it in weeks.”
You gulp, feeling his hand slipping down on the skin from your belly under your t-shirt, and your palms pressed against the wood when his hand gets lost under your jeans.
“Yeah, but–uh…” You gasp through your parted lips when Daryl rubs his fingers against your folds, over your underwear just to tease you.
“(Y/N)?”
But that is not his voice. Daryl removes his hand, cursing under his breath when you two see a person standing from the other side of the blur glass of the door. You sigh in frustration, but you chuckle too while walking towards it to opening. Rosita is smiling when your eyes meet, and you let her walk in.
“Hi, Daryl.” She says.
“Hey…” Daryl says back, leaning over the desk.
“Sorry to bother you, (Y/N), but I need something stronger than an aspirin. Abraham fell on his butt during the run and he keeps complaining.” She rolls her eyes. “Do you have something?”
You nod.
“Yes, of course.” You walk toward the shelf on the wall behind Daryl, smiling to yourself as he tries to hide his erection. You take two painkillers from a bottle and go back to Rosita. “If a man as big as he complains of pain it must be serious.”
“No. He’s just a big baby.” She smiles at you and Daryl, waving her hand before walking out. “Thank you. Bye.”
And she leaves, closing the door behind her. But when you turn, and to your surprise, Daryl doesn’t seem to be so frustrated as you think he would be.
“Whatever is going through your mind…” You chuckle. “It scares me.”
“I got an idea.” He smirks. “And this time ya ain’t escapin' from me, so finish quickly whatever ya're doin’ here.”
You narrow your eyes for a moment, giving him a confused look before finishing your chores.
But what is to come (pun intended) is about to come hard.
There, alone with him, your head falls back against the thin mattress inside the last cellblock, the view of the white ceiling disappearing when you close your eyes, and your mouth opens with a hot moan when Daryl makes you cum. Your grip on his hair loses strength as he gets up from between your legs to kneel, his hand replacing his tongue you to help you ride your orgasm. You let the air of your body go, finally going down from that high ecstasy after a moment as Daryl climbs over your body to be on top of you, shirtless, with his pants hanging now from his waist.
“That was just an extra.” He smiles sideways, part of his long hair covering part of his face, while your chest goes up and down with each breath.
“Yeah… I noticed it.”
Daryl chuckles getting up, but his smile falls when you two hear someone opening the front door of the basement.
“Stay here.” He says, fixing his pant as you put on your t-shirt that covers your thighs.
Daryl walks out of there, putting on his shirt as you put your jeans back on. Counting the few minutes in silence as you wait, he comes back frowning.
“Oh, no.” You chuckle. “What happened?”
“He jus’ came to read.” Daryl says, his voice full of sarcasm, lifting up his hands to mock of that person. “Yeah, right… I’m sure he jus’ wanted to jerk off in private.”
You laugh, falling on the mattress, laying down sideways to look at him.
“Who?”
“Eugene.” Daryl growls, pushing his hand through his hair. “Fuck…”
You keep looking at him: he’s frustrated even after making love, but Daryl looks so funny complaining for something so little.
“Come here.” You say opening your arms for him. “Come.”
Daryl exhales, his expression softening, and he walks towards you as you lay down on your back with him on top of you now, holding his face to kiss him softly before pulling apart to look into his blue eyes.
“Calm down, tiger: everything is fine.”
“Yeah… now it is.” He whispers with his lips an inch from yours, his deep gaze on yours. "But ya know what I was thinkin’?"
"What?"
"That s’bout time we got a fuckin’ house of our own, 'cause I'm tired of havin’ to sneak away to make love to ma wife."
You chuckle at his words, but they make you smile, too.
“I think that’s a very good idea, love.”
@fluffy-dixon
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Hello! I love your art style so much! It scratches an itch idk how to explain it lol
I also wanna ask how would sy!ming fan look like in the future? Would he still look like ur older ming fan art before or would there be some changes to the hair or accessories?
AAA thank you!! This is such a fun question!
They would look very different! While I don't know how "By hook or by Crook" is gonna end, sy!mf lacks the character traits that lead to my Peak Lord Ming Fan design! Since that design is based specifically on how Prim and Tiny write Ming Fan and how his interactions with Zhao De would evolve.
Peak Lord Ming Fan is insecure about himself, especially his appearance. That leads to him overcompensating with an excessive amount of jewelry because the notion that he's dull and bleak has been drilled into his head at this point and he's doing everything to not be that. Also his only reference on how to be a Peak lord has been Shen Qingqiu!!! The og goods! With all his problems! Ming Fan is stuck with his shizun's bitch resting face for all eternity!
Also, overall, this Ming Fan needs so much more therapy.
If I had to design an older sy!mf; First off, he wouldn't be as flashy, because he's not insecure! Like, he knows he's kinda got the short end of the stick when it comes to looks in pidw, but since everyone is usually otherworldly beautiful he's actually just a normal dude! He can be pretty with enough effort and he's poser enough to put in the effort when given the chance! He can certainly act more graceful and cool than og Ming Fan could too, that gives him more charm! When he gets out the ugly duckling phase he's gonna be quite cute, Binghe is gonna be so smug about having seen it before everyone else. Now I don't know how the story will end, so lets put in two possible endings for the fun of it! Ending 1 - Binghe and Ming Fan fuck off and become rogue cultivators. Ending 2 - Binghe and Ming Fan become emperors of the realms together after going to the abyss.
Rogue cultivator Ming Fan wears more practical clothes as well as hair do! Perfect for running around and getting into trouble with Binghe! Emperor Ming Fan needs to show off a little bit! Gotta be a lil bit more of a poser when you're an emperor, so he's got fancier clothes and he lets his hair down cause it looks better! :D Also, fun detail! Notice that while the two SY!MF kept their freckles, Peak Lord Ming Fan doesn't have them. That's because PL!MF is, again, insecure. Gotta get rid of all imperfections. Meanwhile, the other two are very happy to let Binghe kiss every single freckle on their cheeks <3
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