#just makes everything look a bit dream-like in a creepy kind of way

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Art the Clown x Reader | SMUT | CW: reader is married to an abusive husband | reader uses drugs/alcohol to cope with her abusive marriage | murder/killing mentioned

This story is extremely explicit and deliciously fever dream-ish imo. Hope you enjoy it, my fellow clown fuckers ❤️

What the ever loving fuck is wrong with me?

That’s what you were thinking as your common sense peeked out briefly from the fog of alcohol and weed in your system…a moment of sobriety just long enough to make you question what motivation you could have for the decisions you were now making.

He smelled. Like dried blood and sex, the kind of sex that hurts you, but doesn’t stop you from wanting more. Maybe it would have been enough to stop you, under any other (sober) circumstances. But as it was, you were already sitting in this strange man’s lap, in the middle of an empty mall after closing. And what made the situation even more surreal? The fact that he was dressed in a goddamn Santa suit and wearing gaudy black and white clown makeup all over his face.

Yeah, you really needed to stop sneaking into the mall bathroom and getting fucked up. Swiping a pack of edibles and two travel-sized bottles of cinnamon spice vodka from the gas station had been a bad idea to begin with. Using the privacy of the bathroom to get wasted and scroll through your phone for two hours would have been considered strange behavior by most people. But most people (in fact, no one) knew the reason why you avoided home like the plague.

Your husband was abusive, in every way possible. He controlled every aspect of your life, to the point that sometimes, you worried he could even read your thoughts. Where you went, who you spoke to, your finances, your diet, your sex life; everything about you belonged to him. It was suffocating. And while your habit of stealing from the gas station and hiding in the mall bathroom was an unhealthy coping mechanism, you were coping. Even if eventually it bit you in the ass, like tonight. When you got a little too high, a little too drunk, to notice the time, or the fact that the mall outside the bathroom stall you were locked in had grown quiet…

The mall was closed. Fucking closed, with you locked inside it. You’d staggered out of the bathroom like a fucking zombie in what looked to be a post apocalyptic scene. The mall was empty, devoid of life. Everything was eerily silent, apart from your footsteps shuffling across the tile floor as you took in your empty surroundings. The mall was dimly-lit, the only light source coming from high above, moonlight streaming in through the big panel windows on the mall ceiling.

You found one of the exits, and tried the door. It was locked, or maybe you were too high/drunk to figure a way out? It didn’t matter because regardless, you weren’t going anywhere for awhile. Either you’d sober up and figure out how to get out, or you’d be stuck waiting till security came by in the morning and let you out. A pleasant thought tickled at the back of your mind: your husband had no idea where you were. It felt good to be so far beyond his radar that his ability to oversee your every move was completely fucked. What did scare you, however, was the thought of confronting him in the morning. How would he react to you staying out all night? Obviously it wouldn’t go over well, and just imagining what your husband’s punishment might involve had your stomach twisting.

So instead of ruining your high by worrying about the inevitable, you decided to finish the last of your vodka, yelling “fuck it!” into the empty void around you. Your voice echoed back at you off the walls of the empty mall. It was creepy, and a little exciting, being unsupervised and alone with this kind of freedom. The excitement you felt only heightened when you noticed him. Your mouth twisted into a grin of disbelief, because how fucking high WERE you that you were literally seeing Santa Claus in front of you right now?? You took a step towards him, still unsure if he was even real.

He was sitting in an ornate wooden chair framed by two massive Christmas trees. The strands of lights decorating them weren’t on, just like all the other lights inside the mall. Above him, a sign written in ridiculously large print read “SANTA,” as if the scene itself would have implied anything other than the jolly old elf’s presence. You forced your gaze to focus on the man/hallucination in front of you, the smile on his face as big as yours. And he was a…clown, too? You laughed out loud, the absurdity of it all becoming too much. Your laughter was tinny and soft, like the sound of jingle bells, and it seemed only fitting considering you were standing mere feet away from the man, the myth, the legend himself: Santa Claus.

He patted his lap, encouraging you over. The fact that he apparently didn’t speak made the vodka-soaked dreamworld you were currently wandering feel even more like a dream. As you approached ‘Santa Clown,’ the possibility of him being a figment of your imagination became less believable. When he reached for your arm and tugged you onto his lap, you were certain. He was absolutely real.

You gasped, a surprised giggle spilling from your lips. The clown seemed to enjoy your amusement, bouncing you on his knee just to hear the string of excited giggles that tumbled out of you. He was playing with you, and you were loving it. His hair, or the wig he wore, spilled over his shoulders in off-white waves, flecked by bits of red. It took you a few seconds to register that the red bits were actually dried blood, and that the same blood was caked onto the beard that hung loosely underneath Santa Clown’s chin.

Should you have been alarmed? Probably. But instead of sensing danger coming from the clown, you felt oddly protected, safe. Whoever that blood belonged to, whoever he may have hurt, the clown didn’t seem in any hurry to hurt YOU. In fact, based on the stiffening pulse of his cock under your ass, it seemed like the clown was enjoying your company very much.

To test your theory, you decided to tease him a little and see where it led. Shifting intentionally on his lap, you reached to smooth the blood-crusted strands of hair back from Santa Clown’s face, revealing his sharp cheekbones and smooth, painted-white skin. He was oddly handsome, attractive in a dark kind of way. The way villains are always more appealing than heroes, or more philosophically, how Eve must have felt when she was seduced by the serpent’s persuasive tongue. There was something forbidden about the clown, something instinctively, inherently wrong about wanting him. And yet, that wrongness was precisely part of the reason you did want him.

His smile faded slowly to an expression you couldn’t name, his eyes going dark. Had your flirting upset him? A chill ran through you as even the air around you both seemed to go colder. A sudden sizzle of electricity made you flinch, and you watched as around you, the lights on the Christmas trees were illuminated. You smiled, a pleased chuckle of surprise leaving your lips, and the clown smiled with you. He seemed to enjoy making you feel good; and perhaps the dark supernatural forces that followed him came in handy in times like these, when manipulating electricity could be used to impress a pretty girl?

The rest of the mall remained in darkness, with only the Christmas lights illuminating the festive scene. “It’s so pretty,” you said, and you realized it was the first time you’d actually spoken to the clown. He nodded, feigning a kind of bashful grin, and extended his index finger toward you, tapping lightly against your breasts. Your eyebrows lifted at the sweet gesture. It had been a long time since anyone had called you ‘pretty,’ and somehow, even in the absence of words, the clown had said everything right.

“Me?” you asked coquettishly, feeling emboldened by the vodka thundering through your system. “You think I’m pretty?”

The clown nodded vigorously, his big, toothy smile returning. “Well y’know what?” you asked through a giggle. “I think you’re pretty handsome, Santa.”

The clown’s mouth made the shape of a surprised ‘O,’ and he pointed to himself, his lips forming the word ‘me???’

“Yeah,” you replied. “And, as a matter of fact-.” You leaned in so your lips were at the clown’s ear, the coppery scent of blood stronger by his face. “-I’m ready to tell you what I want for Christmas…”

You didn’t expect to feel his hand on your chin, turning your head to face him. His expression had shifted back to the one you’d been unable to read earlier, the look you’d mistaken for him being upset. Now, as his thumb tugged your bottom lip downward and his dark eyes studied the shape of your mouth, you realized his expression was one of lust.

You sucked in a breath, extending your tongue to meet his thumb. The metallic tang of old blood met your tastebuds, melting over your tongue as the dried blood under the clown’s thumbnail was wetted by your spit. You didn’t care whose blood it was, because in this strange new reality, nothing beyond this space in the empty mall mattered. His eyes followed his thumb as it pressed deeper, your lips closing around its base, sucking lightly. You shifted again on the clown’s lap; it was so bumpy now that he was fully hard, his erection making it difficult to sit still.

His gaze was fixed on your lips, the space his thumb had disappeared between. You backed your head away slowly, letting his thumb slide out of your mouth with a wet pop. Your hands closed over his thighs to balance yourself as you slipped off his lap, locking your eyes with his as you settled between his boots on the ground. Resting your head against his right thigh, the heady smell of piss and sweat filled your senses. His hand was on your head, fingers laced through your hair and guiding you, inward. Closer. Closer to the space he wanted your mouth, where he needed it to be.

You wet your lips with your tongue and watched as the clown worked the large buckle of his belt undone. He tugged the waist of his pants lower, just enough for his cock to spring free, smacking against his stomach, pre cum clinging to the white fur trim of his jacket. Your mouth fell open at the sight of his member, its impressive length only half as striking as its girth. He closed his gloved hand around himself, pumping up and down his shaft in a few slow, unhurried strokes. The look in his eyes was almost wicked; he knew the thought of him filling your throat intimidated you, and he liked that fear.

With his other hand locked in your hair, the clown pulled your head closer, till your mouth was poised at his tip. He pressed the fat bulb to your lips, admiring the way they parted obediently for him. Urging his hips forward, the clown pushed his cock inside your mouth. The salty taste of his skin on your tongue was unpleasant at first, but you quickly forgot about any discomfort once he’d established a rhythm back and forth inside you. The head of his cock pushed the salty taste to the back of your throat, and you swallowed it down. From there, the only challenge you faced was opening your throat enough to take him. The clown’s hand on your head continued to guide it, pumping your mouth over him like a sleeve. You needed to breathe, to swallow the air his cock was denying you. Just when you thought you might be sick, the clown removed himself from your throat, allowing you the chance to breathe, a long line of saliva trailing from your bottom lip to the head of his cock. He grinned down at you approvingly, patting your head as if to say ‘good girl,’ before lifting you once again by the hair, and shoving himself back between your lips.

He leaned forward and closed his other hand around your throat, feeling his cock fucking you from the inside out. Your cunt was dripping, a pearly string of your wetness slicking the ground between your knees. You squeezed your thighs together as the clown used your throat, desperate for some kind of stimulation. He could sense your desperation, and offered you his boot as a relief, wedging it between your legs to give you something to grind on. You humped it gratefully, rocking your swollen cunt against the clown’s shoe. He stilled inside your throat, buried deep, his fingers tightening in your hair to the point your scalp was stinging. A gush of semen washed down your throat, followed by another. You struggled to swallow it all, your throat constricting as the clown’s cum filled it to capacity. You gagged and choked, and he pulled you off his cock just as vomit began creeping its way up the back of your throat. His wild eyes and wide grin beamed down at you, his chest rising and falling quickly in the aftermath of his climax. Semen you hadn’t been able to swallow dripped down your chin in a thick line. When you attempted to wipe it away, the clown stopped you with a swat of his hand against yours. He wanted to see the results of his work in and on you, his work of Art.

He jerked his boot where it was wedged between your thighs, bouncing you on top of it. You whimpered at the sensation, your neglected little cunt aching and engorged. You needed to come, so badly that it hurt. The clown watched as you stayed knelt at his feet, straddling his boot and humping it like a bitch in heat, grunting and panting, no more than an animal. Your orgasm shook you to your core, your muscles gripping and sucking around nothing, clit throbbing against the clown’s boot as you rubbed yourself into it, moaning and spitting a string of obscenities into his pants leg, where your face was buried.

After your body ceased shaking, you looked up to see the clown still grinning down at you. He offered his hands for you to take hold of, and helped you back into his lap. An hour passed, and then another. You couldn’t say for certain, but you think you must have fallen asleep in the clown’s arms for an hour or so, because at some point, you noticed that the stars were beginning to fade in the sky. Morning was coming, and that meant going home. To your husband. To your abuser.

Fear roiled in your stomach, along with the alcohol and cum filling it. You despised this feeling of dread, of being scared by a shit stain of a human being like your husband. If only you could live free of his tyranny, you imagined. How much better would the world be without the influence of such a toxic man as your husband…?

…And then, the idea formed in your mind. You tilted your head to the clown’s face. Studying the blood on his hair and skin once again, you decided to ask a favor of him. “Santa,” you began, because you didn’t know what else to call him. “You’ve killed people before…haven’t you?”

The clown feigned an apologetic expression and raised his hands as if to say “guilty.”

You nodded your head, a hopeful smile on your lips. And then, you asked him: “How would you like to kill my husband?” 🔪🩸🤍

@arts-bloody-gloves

[mugwot]

[ssahotchnerr]

I had a dream about this scenario last night and I don’t think I’ve seen anything like this. Aaron’s fiancé is currently in law school but she mostly has done everything online. Recently she’s had to start attending classes and her teacher has been making her extremely uncomfortable. He got access to her phone number and texts her all hours of the night. Leaves notes on her assignments asking her to dinner etc. she doesn’t want to worry Aaron cause he has so much on his plate anyway so she ask Morgan to go have a talk with the teacher to scare him off. But it turns into more of an obsession and Aaron has to get involved.

holy shit you literally had a full on movie going on in that dream and it's literal perfection cw; creepy guy yuck

it starts out with lingering stares. the prof's gaze would remain on you far too long, even after you finished speaking if you were to talk aloud, and another student was adding their input. you brush it off, tell yourself you're probably overreacting, but without fail, there's always that sickening feeling pooling in your stomach.

at first, you're seated in the front - you've always been that kind of student - better access to the board, quick to ask questions, etc., just very involved in class. but as you're seated in the front, you catch him staring at your legs, he moves closer to you during the lecture, not so subtly glancing at your chest, calls on you even if your hand isn't raised.

the more uncomfortable you get, you talk less, rarely participate, you choose to sit in the back, and that's when he starts leaving notes on your assignments - telling you how attractive you are, how you're the most extraordinary student he's had, asking you to coffee or dinner. you try your hardest to ignore it, telling yourself you just need to get through the semester. you even went to your academic advisor to see if you could potentially drop the class, but it's a needed credit. and at this point, you're already a bit into the semester, so you might as well finish it off. not only is it all incredibly disgusting, it's disheartening too. you were so looking forward to attending in-person classes after being strictly online, and now you wish you would've stuck to that.

aaron, of course, is quick to notice a change too. you don't talk about the class over dinner like you used to, ask for his expertise when it comes to difficult assignments. you're quick to change the subject if it's brought up - you honestly avoid the topic altogether. aaron knows something's going on, he provides his support in different ways to show he's there for you - making you your coffee in the morning, packing you a lunch, leaving a note with it. (omg imagine the professor finding aaron's note to you - it accidentally slipped out of your bag and he's just outraged 🫢)

when you go to morgan, shock and disgust covers his face and he starts rattling off questions - how long has this been going on, have you reported him, have you told aaron?!?!?!!? and when you tell him no, tears are just rolling down your cheeks - and it's actually the first you've cried over this whole situation, you've been holding up a strong front until now. :(( derek pulls you into a tight hug, tells you he'll do what he can, and also strongly encourages you to tell aaron. he's all, "he's your man, he'll want to know" 🥺

and ohhh when aaron finds out - furious is an understatement. you tell him the whole story from the beginning, you show him the notes that the prof has left you, and he's immediately in protective mode. and despite how upset he is, he's still so gentle and he feels so bad you've been going through this, alone at that :(((( his voice is all soft as he brushes your tears away, "sweetheart 🥺 you could've told me" and pulls you safely into his arms. you explain how you figured you'd just suck it up, didn't want to bother him, and aaron just gently shushes you, tells you okay, he understands, but please never hesitate to come to him if there's something going on :(

aaron then tells you that he's going to put a stop to this, he'll make sure of it. he calls the school, sends a Very Scary and Very FBI letter. and that prof gets fired yay!!!! and actaully, he does have a criminal record of stalking and being a creep. but with that new free time 🫢 that only means he has more time to look into you ...

[r3starttt]

HELL IS A TEENAGE GIRL

PAIRING: Jennifer's body (Abby Anderson x reader)

CW: blood. murdering-killing. vomit. sub! abby. oral. Owen!!!!!

AN: this goes for my beautiful amazing talented gorgeous @clairoscharm . Ieally hope u like at least the beggining and I'm sorry for making it SO rushed!!! u deserve better

TAGLIST | KINKTOBER: @s4pphic-myth @levilvrr @girlkisser168 @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @softlikesilk-chiffon @grey-jedi12 @slut4ellienabby @roos4lm4 @elliezlils11utt @1-800-fantasy @ellieswifee232 @roos4lm4 @rob1nbuckl3ys @abbys-muscles @0court @dinakisser @lott6i @imagoddess1 @viajeros--sin--destino | ABBY: @imdrowningindispair @rkivedpages @aouiaa @grey-jedi12 @bruhhtsukjf @twopeoplee @wastdstime @softlikesilk-chiffon @grey-jedi12 @slut4ellienabby @0court

People always found it a bit of a joke that a girl like you—pretty, effortlessly charming, and so untouchable—would hang around with someone like Abby Anderson. The class nerd. The lesbian with a mile-long case of compulsory heterosexuality and a fake boyfriend. Everyone knew he was just there to shield her from the obvious: the way her eyes lit up like a puppy every time she saw you cheering.

They didn’t understand what you saw in her, how her soft sweaters would end up around your shoulders when your mom forgot to pick you up in the raniest day of sixth grade, or how her glasses would fog up every time you hugged her just a little too long.

They also didn’t remember that day in fourth grade when you were playing boyfriend and girlfriend—naturally, she was your girl—and she punched a boy who interrupted your first kiss just to mock you both. His mom was more furious about the kiss than his kid falling down the slide.

She would always be your girl. And you would always be hers, or so you've dreamed of.

Everything really began with that stupid cross scrawled across the back of your hand, a sort of ticket to a "club" full of sleazy mustache-twirling creeps and horny teenage boys. You were in it for the experience, of course. Abby, ever loyal, tagged along as usual.

The night started with you picking her up from another one of her fake boyfriend's dates. Fifth time that week. You never liked Owen. He was basic—worn-out jeans, some boring neutral colored shirt—and he couldn’t wait to ditch his belt the moment he stepped foot in Abby’s meticulously organized, nerdy little room. He didn't care about her classical music or her favorite bands posters or her books or her theories or her love for anything.

But you did.

You knew boys; Abby didn’t.

And every time you saw him with her, something in you twisted with jealousy—he wanted her, and he got her too easily.

Abby was something with plenty potential, naturally smart- a genius to your eyes. She had good grades, good money, a surgeon as a dad who was single and overworked himself- like father, like daughter. She folded her clothes neatly and organized them by color, she chose what she would wear a day before, she would have a schedule for everything- you always present. Her hair down made her prettier than that gentle braid she'd wear every day, and whenever she did her lashes and added that extra gloss, her face looked so pretty, and her glasses were that perfect extra she needed to be perfect for your eyes.

And then there was this boy, horny and getting a boner just by the sight of Abby's bra. You despised Abby for allowing such lame boy into her perfect life.

That night, though, it was you who had your eyes on someone else—a band, well, a man. Not for the music, but for the thrill. Older guys, somewhat famous, the kind that would treat you like you were stupid.

And the idea of it had your heart racing.

Hormones, maybe. The chance to see if anyone could ever make you feel the way Abby did. But with a dick and the creepy beard- like Abby called it.

She warned you not to, you just didn’t listen but laughed, batting your lashes, your glossy lips flashing in that ridiculous puffy white jacket.

You were invincible, right?

Wrong.

It all spiraled faster than you could process. The screaming, the snapping bones, the music turning into something warped and twisted. The man—one of those rockstars you thought would show you a good time—stared at you, as if he was just as shocked by what was happening as you were.

You stood there, frozen, as if it was all some bad dream.

Then, suddenly, you were outside, Abby’s hands gripping your waist, trying to lead you away as your broken heels gave out beneath you. You felt like you were burning from the inside, your mind fuzzy from the bartender’s “gift”—a drink served with a wink after you'd playfully pressed your arms against your breasts, just a little- enough to show them off for a pretty girl discount.

You collapsed, feeling stupid and weak, like you were drugged. Abby’s warm hands pressed against your face, and her lips repeated something that must've been your name, but before you could focus on her, you heard that man’s voice—the same man you’d dreamt about for maybe a day or two—crooning, “Let’s go to my van.”

Abby’s "no" cut through the haze, repeated over and over. But it didn’t matter. He shoved another drink into your mouth, the liquid spilling over your glossy lips, staining the glass. Abby’s glasses caught the reflection of the chaos behind you, the carnage inside, but no one seemed to notice.

Then you were in his van. Skinny, twisted, looking like something straight out of a nightmare. To Abby, you were gone—like a corpse. He dragged you in with a grip too tight on your waist, and just like that, the door slammed shut.

By the time they were halfway there, you were eerily quiet. Your glossy eyes mirrored the messy streaks of lip gloss now smeared up your cheeks, the result of tears and desperation. The skin around your nails was raw and bleeding, torn from how furiously you’d been scratching at yourself, trying to ground your fear.

"Are you guys like... rapists or something?" Your voice came out small, weak. You were just a girl, after all. You’d never expected a bunch of men to kidnap you, let alone drag you somewhere far away. But if you were about to die, you’d rather it be with Abby.

One of them scoffed, turning in his seat to mutter to the driver. "God, man, I hate girls." The guy riding shotgun glanced back at you, his face almost as pale as yours. He looked scared—like he hadn’t signed up for this. "Are you even sure she’s a virgin?" he asked, nervousness creeping into his voice.

The driver shot him a glare. "Yes, I’m sure, I don’t—"

"I’ve never—" you blurted out, your voice cracking as you struggled to hold back sobs. "You should, uh... find someone who knows what they’re doing. Someone who’s good at it." Your words were stumbling over themselves, trying to buy time, to make them think twice. After all those boys and awkward make-out sessions, you’d never gone further. It scared you. And deep down, you’d always hoped the first time would be with someone who mattered—someone with pretty lashes like Abby, eyes like Abby, a body like hers, a voice like hers. You dreamed about it being her.

"See? Told you she’s a virgin. Y’all owe me a beer," the driver said smugly, ignoring the panic in your voice.

They kept shoving beers at you, forcing you to drink. Soon, everything started to blur—the dark van, the Satanic symbols plastered on the walls, the smell of cheap booze and cigarettes. Your mind drifted as they dragged you out, the cold night air biting at your skin. You recognized the place. The falls—the very place that gave your town its name. Were you really going to die here?

"We gather tonight to sacrifice the body of..." One of the men started speaking, his voice dripping with dark ritualistic glee. You barely heard him over your own muffled screams. The ropes they’d tied around you were crude, hastily knotted, biting into your skin.

You fought hard, thrashing against the bonds, trying to kick at them. Your thighs were burning, knees scraped raw as they shoved you forward. Your heels had long since fallen off, lost somewhere in the dirt.

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up," the man you thought was your dream sneered. The same man you’d been stupid enough to trust just hours ago. He grabbed your face roughly, forcing you to look at him. "Maybe we’ll write a song about you," he teased, pressing a mocking kiss to your forehead before shoving you toward the edge of the falls. The roar of the water was deafening, mist from the cascade sparkling in the air around them. Everything about it was twisted, surreal.

"With the deepest malice, we deliver this virgin sacrifice..." The knife came next. Cold, sharp, unforgiving. It tore through you over and over, ice and fire mingling in your veins. You couldn’t make sense of the pain—sometimes it burned, sometimes it was numb, like your body was trying to shut down. You wanted to rip your heart out just to make it stop. The agony tore your screams from your throat, desperate cries for them to stop.

Was Abby okay?

-

Owen's words were right that night. Who could care about you and those assholes with they stupid looks and voices and music when people just got burned alive.

But for Abby it was just a stupid jealous rambling. He didn't like you, his argument? You're a bad influence for her, telling her to prioritize girls night instead of him, or teaching her to put on more makeup for their dates which he had to pretend to notice. Because you made her laugh louder than anyone else and she would get called out during classes. Because you brought the best from her, a best he couldn’t.

"No, no. I'm telling you- Owen! fuck! listen, please-" any other argument she was trying to make it have sense for his boyfriend completely shushed on her brain as a loudness interrupted behind her. It was something falling- maybe someone. Steps and a quiet growl what she could manage to understand in the few seconds she was given to turn around and press the phone against her chest.

You were covered in blood, your pretty pink tights broken. Heels not even on. That pretty white on your jacket covered by a worrying amount of blood, ripped. Teeth tainted in blood and dark eyes. Your pretty make up ruined, mascara as if you'd cried and those glossy lips she adored to feel on her cheek each day you greeted her first thing morning now blurred and melt into a disgusting mix of drool and blood.

Owen's voice long forgotten as you were there. She spoke your name many times, you simply got on your knees, opening her fridge and getting out a random fried chicken her dad had bought. It smelled putrid but you could not care any less.

Her shaky hands cleaned her tears off, adjusting her glasses as she kneeled on your side, patting your back.

You shouted at her, an inhuman sound leaving your mouth followed by dark vomit. It was like a weird heavy oil.

She didn't understand that day but you did.

Your last time alive was for and to her, trying to escape into the safe of her home and her arms but unable to as you were far gone and replaced by a weird entity. A sickness.

She ran away, thinking on who to call or what to do. You knew she wouldn't but the thing inside you didn't.

Abby Anderson wouldn't acuse you to the police or try to escape or do anything at all that could hurt you or put you in any danger, she just wanted to help you.

Your force was scary, stupid against her.

You pinned her against the wall, her lower back hitting the furniture on her entrance and your hand breaking the glass of her pretty picture from earlier that grade. Your hands bleeding more and more and her pretty clothes earlier chosen just for you to see and admire now drenched in your same blood and dirt.

"Are you scared?" You pressed your lips against her neck, your breath hovering intense against her flesh. She was trembling, crying. You felt the nod on her face and just there your dirty nails cradled her face. You just looked at her, a lost look on both of your faces. The salt of her tears burned on your skin, but no inch of skin flinched.

She tried to call your name but you just leaned forward again, biting at the little necklace on her neck with her initial into a pretty gold. Abby sobbed- Your Abigail, the strongest person you've met was heart broken, and terrified.

Her skin was salty and her perfume was comforting, it almost made you bite. But you didn't, you stepped back and freeing her face, you pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. She hated blood, but she took it.

And just like that she spent all night with sobbing eyes and fogged glasses. Her nails dirty in whatever dark vomit you've displayed on her floor.

-

"Abigail" your acute usual morning greeting made her blink for once this morning. Her usual perfect lips now chapped. She felt your bracelets hit around her neck before your gloss spread on her cheeks. "You're alright." she mumbled.

"yeah...? why wouldn't I be." Your eyes rolled as you put the small notebook and a pen over the shared bench. "Yesterday at my house-"

"Oh my god! Abby you overreact all the time- Remember you thought there was an earthquake and it was just those fat kids playing?" you giggled, the loud of your voice no longer shushed by her as she was in pure shock. "People died, it's national news."

"Anyone we know?" The lip gloss glisthened against your lips as you put more of it, your lashes pointing at her eyes while starting at her lips. "We know everyone." Her tone obvious.

"Sucks to be them, I guess." You shrugged, about to lay your open arms and take full space before her hands hold you in place. "What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with you, besides the obvious need of a fucking mani, bad." The edges of your eyebrows fought to turn into a frown, curving slightly at the edge of your nose. "I don't know maybe that I had to be all night scrubbing the...carnage off the linoleum-" your voices overlapped. "God don't talk like that it's... one of the most freaky Abby behaviors."

She showed you her hands, the under of her nails in a disgusting black, it made you want to throw up. "No- don't show your hands- stop." You shoved them down, the cool of your skin making her frown. "It makes us look both like total Gaylords."

-

Your lips were drenched in blood. She was sweet, with her freckled cheeks and the short bun on her now masy hair. She whined so pretty and so far she'd been the only one to try and fight back. Her nails scratched on your back and neck and arms, almost made it to hurt your eye too. Maybe if she hadn't done that your teeth wouldn't have pierced on her skin like they did.

Your grip left bruises on her skin. A gutural groan- half a moan while you uncovered her tits to hold her nipples between your fingers.

"Good girl" you whispered, holding her still.

If Abby could se who's organs you had on your mouth right now, she would turn into dust in a matter of seconds. Her girl, her all life best friend, had her mouth filled with blood and fresh organs that belonged to the girl you've made fun of together your whole life. Ellie Williams, the quiet girl you mocked with Abby by calling her all kinds of names because she had a smartness you didn't and you envied, she had the girls you couldn't, she was Abby’s first friend and most likely first love- she never realized. And you envied all of it, so, instead of getting over it you're digging into her open stomach, drenching your hands and clothes and mouth with her blood and her flesh. All of her is delicious, really- well, all except her tattooed arm. That's putrid.

The empty house you've found yourself in suddenly felt quiet as you could finally free yourself from her gripp. Her short nails had left a small bruise around your pale wrists until the pain became too blinding and the blood wasn't enough to keep her alive.

Cigarettes, lighter, some old ticket on her left pocket. Some dollars on the right one.

Nothing worth keeping from her. Truly.

Just the gain of your youth again.

"I'm feeling scrumptious-" The lighter fired small sparks way too close to your face. The taste of blood eventually disappearing from your tongue, fading withing each gulp of your salivating mouth. "Oh okay! cool im-" Abby tried to speak from the other side of the line. Her voice cutting through the not so long distance between. "You know when you kiss a boy and your whole body feels on vibrate?" the lighter in your hand with a small initial drawn with permanent pen caught your attention, almost making it sound like your words had lost trail. Abby frowned, laying her stomach on the bed as she held her weight over her elbows to speak a proper "yeah" just loud enough for you to hear. "Me- uhm, I'm still a little bit depressed about the giant smoldering funeral pyre in the middle of town-" yet you interrupted again.

"Move on Abby, it's over- And...you should be truly caring about your best friend who's having the best days ever since like Jesus invented the calendar." You finally stood up, hitting the cold of Ellie's leg just to make sure she was properly gone- as if all the blood you've sucked from her and all the flesh you've filled yourself with could somehow be meaningless and not enough to end with her.

"He didn't." Abby didn't even tried to explain it to you. It would be a waste of time and for once in her life she was feeling like hanging the call and leaving your bimbo brain to manage itself. "Well whatever. I'm like... a god- what's got you busy from paying all your attention to me? mhm?" you practically groaned at the absence of her response. "Gotta go, Owen wants to see me."

You pressed the fire right against your tongue. As if all the mad in you felt comfort by the pain. "You know... he's looking kinda cute to me lately, with his stupid t shirts and that-"

"Yeah, whatever, bye."

Your tongue burned.

-

"No offense but you look really tired." Abby put her black backpack over one of her shoulders, struggling to get the other side over her arm. You, you took your small purse and empty notebook and hid yourself under the violet hoodie- A hoodie that covered almost your knees if you tried to. Unlike you. really. "Wat's wrong?"

"I feel like boo-boo. My skin is breaking out, my hair is dull and lifeless. God... it's like I'm you."

Part of it comforted Abby, knowing you still had energy left for your humor to be this passive aggressive and your love to be this mean.

"Are you PMS-ing?-" you stopped before her, eyeing the pretty pink on her clothes up and down. She'd took the advice you gave her a few weeks ago on how to drees more for your liking. But, what the fuck was she speaking right now.

"Abby, that's not real. It was invented by the men to make women look crazy and you should know better."

"Oh I should know better? fuck off."

It was killing you, not having her near. She was afraid of you. You thought it was selfish. No matter how ugly your skin was and how much your stomach could kill you of hunger you couldn't get yourself to hurt her, yet she seemed beyond terrified of you. She was even mad at you.

It was killing you to see her with him. She wasn't good enough for him and he wasn't good enough for her.

"Hey, Abby. I'm sorry" you practically whined, holding her hand and locking your fingers with hers. She was mad at you, for, twice this year. That's a lot.

"Can I go home with you?"

-

"God! Abby stop with the screaming you're such a cliché-" The initials of your last victim shining beneath the gentle orange light of her room. The lighter on Abby's hands. "I won't bite you..." The whisper almost hit her skin as you crawled closer to her, your knees sinking in the matress. "Why are you wearing that..." she eyed the overworn hoodie hugging your body. "Though you'd like it..." Your nails tugged at the edges of her sweater, showing the bare shoulders beneath her white tank top.

She looked horrified- and more than breaking your heart, it made you pussy starved. Maybe this is why boys were an easy target.

You cradled her face between your heating hands, caressing her cheekbones under her glasses until they fogged. You chuckled at it before taking them off.

Her heartbeat could be felt on your own body, as if you'd already made her yours- She'd always been. "Come here..." you would expect a flinch, a push, a slap. Not her saliva meeting yours, the fat of her lip between yours until it goes the other way and she's got you in between.

It makes you wet, really. How her shoulder stiffen and her posture straightens until it doesn't and she leans to kiss you and savor you back.

She feels ridiculously soft and the little clothes she wears are beyond inviting. But there's nothing you'll push on her, not a boundary you'll ignore. She's the most tender flesh you've had, the most loud pump of blood you've sensed and the prettiest salty your tongue has feasted on. She's your girl, your Abby.

And she's whining at the little kisses you give her.

Abby Anderson, the girl you've craved for your whole life more than anything is now under your mercy, for you to take and enjoy as you please- well, almost.

You lay back again, meeting her no longer maddening eyes but soft brows and the locks of hair adorning her braid, resting over her shoulder.

You lock your fingers with them, undoing her smooth blonde between your hands. And Abby just stares in awe.

Just a few seconds ago she was about to cry at the confirmation that she'd lost you and now she wanted nothing else than to play girlfriend and boyfriend again and have you between her legs to fo the job Owen had failed miserable at.

And so she did, straddling your legs and sinking your bodies on the matress. Her lips eating yours eagerly, like she'd craved you just as much as you did. And you were so warm, scary comforting.

Your hands slid under her white top, covered by her sweater. The tip of your nails scratching the middle of her back until you got to her bra.

"What the fuck is happening." Her voice became loud, too acute for her own good.

The little heart with the BFF craved on it hit your chin, forcing your eyes to open and then your back to drag you and sit in front of her.

"My god, Abby. I've never heard you drop the F-bomb before." She stumbled over her words, trying to make it all have sense. The lighter on her hands again and suddenly being tossed for you to own it again. Your little award. "Slow down tardy slip, you sound like a sped." You imitated her stuttering, brushing some of your hair off your face.

"I'm gonna call the police." She threatened, but you just laughed it off, cupping her cheeks to deepen your tongue between her lips.

She didn't hesitate on following your lead. She never did.

It's fervent and sloppy and wet. And you have drool over your chin, you're truly rabid.

Her ass gets cupped by your hands, and she whines against your lips, taking her clothes off for you. Her bra reveals the perky nipples beneath and you direct your mouth to them, brushing the straps down her shoulders to get a proper taste.

"Let me hear you... yeah, like that." it makes you wet how obedient she is. How soft her nipple feels between your lips, It's delicious. "I love you Abby." Your arousal grows at how her hear stops, how her face genuinely lightens again for you.

"Lay down, come on." You guide her with soft murmurs and praise, a touch so gentle it could never be fair for Owen if he ever tried to feel her again.

Your hands traveled to the back of her legs, pressing a soft kiss on each before putting them over your shoulders. Her jeans unzipped before you got rid of her underwear, and sinking in between her legs not Inmediatelly- but after you took a proper look of her wet slit and your breath hovered.

Your mouth leaves kisses over her puffy clit, fingers sissoring her soaked folds. You could come just by how pretty she sounds for you. How she held onto you and trust her body to you.

In exchange its only fair to savour every inch of her. Licking, sucking, kissing her arousal. Teasing it with the tip of your fingers and tongue before actually thrusting inside her.

And you lose yourself in her, sucking at her clit- moaning against it at how fucking delicious she tastes. Her legs are so soft, and her happy trail is as pretty as the under. Her tits show enough for you to remember forever and her hands are constantly looking to hold onto you, to lock her fingers between your head into a tender grip that you have to guide into harsh and rough.

You can see her fogged glasses. Her once perfect hair a mess all over her back, pressed against her pretty skin covered in sweat. Your name falls from her plump lips as pleads. Over and over again- too overwhelmed with your pretty voice, your hands on her- she just whines, searching for friction, rubbing desperately against your sloppy tongue licking over her pretty pussy.

-

Abby never said I love you back

-

"Hey, sorry I- I need to talk to you about you know who?"

It had been months after that. Currently October 31, way too cold to still be months away from December.

Abby never said I love you back, and that's all you cared about. Not all the deaths that had been your fault, not the sex, not her cum dripping down your chin before you crawled to her and deepened your tongue into hers again.

And Abby, on the other hand, she didn't care about else than the stupid lighter.

Fuck Ellie, and fuck Owen, and fuck her.

"ugh, our little Abby?" The boy seemed oblivious to the whole thing. "She's been acting off lately, but it must be you..." His passive aggressive self was- "I think there's something wrong, she's been really upset since... you know, Ellie died?"

He frowned, stepping back from you just enough to eye you up and down- to look at your tits. "They were being intimate and-" he tried to stop you, but you held him in place "And, I just- I'm sorry, I care about you... so much, more than I've ever had the guts to admit...."

He stood there, quiet and still. You, held the sides of his arms and just like that he was on his knees for you.

"Abby didn't deserve a boy like you"

-

"I feel so empty-" he kissed you.

The only man beside her father to get her full heart and soul, was kissing you. He wasn't only betraying her- your Abby- he was doing it with you, the most important person in this world for her.

It happened in a matter of seconds. Your teeth sinking into his tongue, ripping it from him. It was too painful to even scream or shout or fight back. He held you, his gross hands were touching you and keeping you in place. It wasn't his strength nor your fear but the shock of the sudden disgusting feeling within you. Shame.

You throw him into the pool, your dress heavy against you. He got trapped between you and the fabric of your white stained dress and the natural heaviness of the water.

His head hit with the walls of the pool endless times until he tried to fight back for once. Abby.

-

"You were never a good friend, even when we were little you would throw your toys at me and bite me and- " you cut her off, trying to step closer. She wouldn't let you.

it broke your heart.

"And now I'm eating your boyfriend, see? at least I'm consistent." You left the floor, all the anger and pain and shame mixing into one. It wasn't you anymore but whatever those men had done to your body and your brain. Abby wasn't Abby, she was a threat.

"Why do you need him? you can have any boy you want, why him?" the next words were mumbles until she pronounced insecure. Insecure.

You didn't reply, not a single word leaving your lips until you managed to make your way into her.

"I'm not insecure Abby, how could I?"

You tried to contain, you really did. The live and adoration for her was endless, no demon, no man, no boy, no nothing could ever take that from you. It was a thing that made you, you. She was the thing, the human you loved more than anything in the whole universe.

Yet no matter what, a man would always take the place you deserved.

"I am going to eat your soul and shit it out Abigail!"

"I thought you only murdered boys"

"Oh, I go both ways."

[total-dxmure]

ೃ࿔ CHERRY FLAVORED →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairing: mega fan!ellie williams x rock star!reader

summary: your guitarist was carted off to rehab after just one month into your recent tour. fuck. there’s only one thing you can do, and that’s hire a replacement. your band thinks it’s going to be nearly impossible to find someone that is on the same level of talent as your “beloved” guitarist. you don’t have high hopes that anyone can nail the songs quite like he did either, if you’re being brutally honest. enter ellie- she’s a mega fan. the girl knows every lyric and note like the back of her hand. . . and everything about you, which isn’t creepy at all. her apparent obsession with you is something that you and your tour manager can overlook if it means carrying on with the rest of the tour. forced proximity with a stalker-level fan . . . what’s the worst thing that could happen?

warnings: smut in next chapter, talk of substance abuse, the reader is a tease and a bit of a bitch but it’s hot i promise, ellie is obsessed with reader to an unhealthy degree.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

It was the kind of love that tortured poets mused over. Ribs straining against a heavy heart. 

Ellie had deluded herself, as any love drunk person does, that she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle on the floor if she were to meet you. She could keep her cool- downplay the crushing significance you held in her life. Your voice was constantly ringing in her ears. She could see your face in perfect clarity any time she closed her eyes. Pictures like snapshots played out behind her eyelids, and yet you always felt a million miles away for her. You were a perfect performer, situated on your sky-high pedestal, always out of her puny reach. 

Because Ellie, as much as she despised this fact and dreamed of greatness, was a nobody. She grew up in a tiny town of no noteworthiness, her adolescent years spent dreaming about the planets and playing guitar with Joel. By all accounts Ellie was normal, while you were certainly not. Still, she liked to tell herself that she’d somehow manage to make herself worthy of your affections if she were ever to be blessed with them. 

Finding herself in a situation like this seemed like an impossibility. She was partially convinced that she was daydreaming, having concocted some elaborate fantasy just to feed the insatiable ache. She was starved for you with no way to feed herself. 

All it had taken was a single audition tape. One. Single. Tape. Ellie was staring, wide eyed, at Gene fuckin’ Murray. 

The blood rushed from her head, hands breaking out instantaneously into a clammy sweat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t function at the realization that she was staring at one of the people that she had worshiped for years. Gene’s talent had been praised by the likes of Lars Ulrich and Danny Carey. He wasn’t popular just for his looks but for his undeniable talent. 

And he was staring straight at Ellie, arms crossed over his toned chest as he waited expectantly. She felt like an idiot. Should she be playing? If so, what did they want her to play? Surely one of their songs. She’d glossed past the fact that she was a megafan, instead making it sound like she was just looking for a successful band to join. She was talented. No, Ellie was really talented. 

She wasn’t just a technical player, but excelled at making her own rules. She enjoyed the creative freedom that playing the guitar granted, and felt as though the world needed more Jimi’s and Van Halen’s. Ellie excelled at thinking outside of the box. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

So she took a deep breath and tried to steady her heart, once again stepping up to the mic. If there was one thing that all of your bandmates had in common, it was the attitude. She’d watched hundreds of interviews, had studied all of their movements and mannerisms. . .she understood you down to a science. 

“So do you want me to play or what?” Ellie spoke into the mic, gripping the neck of the guitar in the hopes that it might act as an anchor. She was scared that she might float away. 

The manager’s eyebrows twitched at her sudden change in attitude but he didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at Gene. For a second everyone just stared at her, like a bug under a microscope. After what felt like five minutes but was really just five seconds, Gene broke out into a grin, motioning to her with a flick of his wrist. He wasn’t confident in her, Ellie could tell. 

She had a sweet face, she knew that. Big green eyes and freckles- she was unsuspecting. People were usually shocked to find out that she had wrestled competitively in high school and had no problem putting a man three times her size on his ass. People expected very little from her, and perhaps that was part of Ellie’s real charm. 

“What song?” She was staring at Gene now, gripping her guitar pick between two sweat-slick fingers. 

“What ‘bout ‘Sometime Soon’? Know that one?” His tone was teasing. Condescending. 

The song was fast paced. It was supposed to be played loud and hard- one of your angrier songs. Ellie knew that you had been the one to write this one, meaning it was one of her favorites. The notes weren’t beginner friendly, but it wasn’t exactly hard for her. 

It was more style, less technical ability- which meant that Ellie would have no problem making this song her bitch. 

It was obvious that Gene was the one meant to judge her. The manager was just that- a manager. They needed an actual musician to listen in. So she took a deep breath and readied herself. . . 

and then the sound of your singing voice blasted into the booth. Drums, bass- she was meant to play with you. 

She almost missed her que, eyes widening in nervousness. She thought that she’d be playing all by her lonesome. She thought wrong it would seem. They’d started her off right in the middle of the song. Probably to throw her off. She jumped in, fingers sliding along the frets to shape out the correct notes. She tucked her guitar pick against the palm of her hand with her thumb, using the pads of her fingers to tap the strings. Faster. Faster. Faster. She didn’t look up from her guitar to look at the men’s reactions to her playing. Instead she just pretended she was standing in the living room of her apartment, hellbent on getting another noise complaint from the bitchy nextdoor neighbor. 

Her calloused fingers pinched the strings, satisfied with the way the guitar whined over the speakers. The guitar solo in this song was meant to be impressive- and it was, she had to give it to Leon. A lot of it was just bullshitting though. He’d admitted that he came up with the solo in the actual sound booth off of the top of his head while they were recording the song. 

The man was a god. He deserved “guitarist of the year” two years in a row. Ellie had the Los Angeles native beat though. Where he had grown up in the constant presence of “the greats”, Ellie had grown up in a constant state of boredom. She’d been playing the guitar since she was fourteen. Every day she’d sit down for hours and practice until her fingers bled. . . literally. She had thousands of hours on Leon, and she knew that with certainty. 

Ellie moved the guitar up and down gently with her fret hand, prolonging the last note so that it cried the way she wanted it to. The muscles in her arms were sore from how hard she had been tensing during the song. She’d been a lot more mechanical about it than she was used to, but she had something to prove. 

After a second she looked up from her guitar to gauge everyone’s reactions. The manager had dropped his cold and indifferent demeanor, instead flashing her a small smile. It bolstered her, gave her the strength to turn and look at Gene. 

He still had his arms crossed over his chest, and for a second Ellie was sure that he would tell her that she sucked. She widened her stance, shuffling her feet so that she was in a more defensive position. His heated gaze made her feel as though she needed to protect herself from whatever mental anguish he was about to put her through. 

“I thought she was kick ass,” Gene finally spoke up, giving Ellie a small thumbs up. Her face lit up into a wide smile before she could school her reaction into one of indifference. “What do you think? You’re the one that calls all the shots.” He spoke behind him, looking down at someone that had been hidden on the couch all along. 

Ellie squinted her eyes, taking a step closer to the glass to see if there was another businessman she’d somehow overlooked. 

She saw your hair before she saw anything else. It was freshly dyed, different than the last she’d seen you in all of the recent tabloid photos. You were clad in leather- pants so tight that they looked like a second skin. Your top was just as restrictive, breasts spilling out from the top, midriff revealed to show off the small silver piercing you had decorating your belly button. 

You were Hecate in the flesh- dark, sinister, mysterious and capable of anything. Ellie didn’t think that it would be possible, but you were even prettier in person. The sight of you sent a shock through her system, and for a second she felt her knees quiver, as if she could no longer hold up the weight of her own body. Her insides turned to mush; white, hot mush. 

The Stendhal syndrome: Ellie had been brought to the very precipice of existence by sight alone. She was so overcome by your mere existence that she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. Body trembling, eyes locked on to your face and nothing else- it felt like she might faint. She remembered reading about the syndrome once before in an art history class she took in college. 

“Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty. . . I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations.” 

The urge to flee was just as great as the urge to get her hands on you was. She was thankful for the wide stance she was currently in, because if her legs had been any closer together then she was positive she would have lost her balance and fallen over. 

You were right there in front of her. You’d been right in front of her the entire time, she’d just been so focused on Gene that she hadn’t even seen you in her panic. She stumbled forward, her sneakered foot catching the jack for the amp. She slapped her hands over her ears as a blood curdling screech began blaring over the speakers. 

Ellie could have died. In fact. . . she just might. She dropped her guitar roughly on the ground as she raced over towards the amp, fingers shaking as she turned the knob to the volume.

The booth, once again, was silent. Silent enough to hear a pin drop. Slowly she turned, grimacing when she noticed the looks on everyone’s faces. She’d embarrassed herself and ruined her chance. Even worse was the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of you. 

She had somehow deluded herself into believing that the two of you were soulmates over the years. She’d compared your birth charts, life numbers- had taken multiple celebrity compatibility tests. All signs pointed to a resounding yes. The two of you were star crossed lovers, cursed to never know one another. She had told herself that if she were ever to bump into you in person that she’d be able to keep her cool. Ellie was certain that she could pretend that she didn’t know who you are- could downplay the significance that you held  

Her ignorance was laughable. She’d been so overcome by your mere presence that she’d stumbled on air while standing completely still. You were standing up straight now, and even from her spot behind the thick glass she could tell how much taller you were than her. You had to be wearing heels or platforms, because according to Google you were- 

“You know how many auditions we’ve listened to today?” You had grappled the mic from the tech and were now hunched over his soundboard, the lights from all of the buttons and knobs casting strange, beautiful shadows over your face. Your eyeliner was dark and smoked out around your eyes, and in that moment Ellie wondered if you were an angel or a demon. “Twelve. Twelve fuckin’ people have walked into that booth today. Every single one of them has been absolute shit. So bad, in fact, that I’ve wanted to blow my fuckin’ brains out in this buildings tiny, piss-stained bathroom.” 

Ellie blanched, lips losing their pink color as the blood drained from her face. She was about to pass out. Her vision was already starting to tunnel. She grabbed onto one of the microphone stands to hold herself up, trying to keep her expression hard and unreadable. People often told her that she had “dead eyes”, and she could only pray that her face wasn’t giving her crushing grief away. It felt like someone had just died; like she had just died. Actually, she would have rather you just go ahead and stab her then tell her she sucked. You were her idol, her dream girl, her everything. 

And you were telling her that you’d rather blow your fucking brains out then listen to her play. How was she supposed to recover from this? She’d heard the saying “don’t meet your heroes” a thousand times, but this? She’d rather you just be a bitch to her. Actually, Ellie would probably like that. This was the worst thing she could have ever heard. Her nose twitched as tears began pooling in her eyes. She blinked a few times, praying that you couldn’t tell in the nearly pitch black room you were standing in. 

“But this?” You turned towards your manager and pointed passionately at Ellie. “This is music.” 

Breath left her lungs in a loud, audible whooshing sound, like a balloon deflating. Her shoulders relaxed, the hand that was white knuckling the mic stand falling limp at her side. No, you didn’t hate her. You liked her. 

You liked her. 

Everyone had their vices. Leon’s had, apparently, been copious amounts of prescription drugs- often consumed simultaneously. You were used to getting what you wanted. You drank whenever you wanted to, fucked just about anyone that peaked your interest and got away with your usual rotten antics and bitchy behavior. You lived the lifestyle that you’d always dreamt of, even when you were a little kid. 

You enjoyed putting on shows. You were flamboyant, loud, and weren’t afraid of expressing yourself. Teachers often described you as a “free thinker” back in your elementary school days. You dressed yourself for school each morning, each outfit louder and more daring than the next. You were an artist, and like most artists you had some inner demons that you fought against. You still fought tooth and nail, even to this day. 

Finally though, after what felt like a thousand years of waiting and biding your time, you had the life you had always yearned for. 

You sold out arenas, appeared on the front page of just about every magazine imaginable, and had celebrities clamoring over themselves to be your “best friend” of the week. Things were good. 

But also a bit empty. 

The friends that you’d made in your youth only used your name for bragging rights. Your parents had stopped showing up to concerts years ago, instead choosing to listen about your successes through their shitty television shows. Life felt a bit hollow.

Exciting. . . just different than you had always been used to. 

“Come play with us.” One of the women whined from her spot on your plush hotel mattress. The bombshell blonde was already stripped down to her underwear, her eyes glazed over from whatever overpriced alcohol she’d already taken from the suite's bar, at your expense no doubt. 

Your manager was used to the up-charges on the company card. He would probably be relieved in the morning when he found out that you didn’t break anything. There was still time for that, of course. It was only one in the morning, which meant you had nine more hours to get fucked up and wreck the cushy room. 

“I’m not feeling up to it right now.” You said simply, already disinterested in the two women you had invited to bed with you tonight. You were holding a beer bottle loosely between two of your fingers, swishing the remainder of the room temperature alcohol absentmindedly.

You weren’t much of an “observer” when it came to sex, more of a very active participant. Still, all you could do was sit back in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, muscles tense after a long show. You weren’t exactly sure why you’d invited the women back to the hotel. They were both attractive and had come onto you at the same time. It was obvious what they had been insinuating, and who were you to deny two beautiful women? The first thing that had popped into your head being “a threesome might make me happy”.

Except now you were bored out of your skull and would much rather be sleeping right now than watch two ditzy girls clumsily fondle each other’s fake breasts. 

“Please? I want you to fuck me so bad-” There was a knock at the door, causing both girls to go silent for a second. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaustion threatening to swallow you up whole. If it was your manager here to yell at you for “accidentally” breaking an amp at tonight's show you were going to scream. It was too late for that bullshit. Still, you saw this excuse as a blessing. 

“Hear that, ladies? Looks like we’ve gotta pack it up. Thanks for showing me a good time.” You stood up from the seat with a small groan, placing your beer bottle onto the counter clumsily. The glass clattered, almost spilling all over the shag carpet. 

The two girls groaned, obviously frustrated that they hadn’t successfully gotten you into bed with them. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you lately. If this had happened a few months ago then. . . well, you would have fucked them- no questions asked. Were you maturing out of your “wild and crazy” phase? No, you didn’t think so. 

You bent down, scooping up a discarded bra so that you could toss it onto the bed. Fabric rustled behind you as they began to quickly sort themselves out, hoping to beat you to the door. 

“Who is it?” You called out in a sing-song voice, deciding that if your manager was already angry enough to show up in front of your door at one in the morning then you might as well have a little fun with it. 

There was no reply on the other side of the door, causing you to scoff. He was giving you the silent treatment. You reached out for the door handle, only to have your shirt yanked on by one of the women. You could hear the seams ripping against the weight of her, her eyes wide with desperation. 

“Please let me show you a good time. I promise I’m good- I swear.” There was a fear of rejection there, you could tell. 

You felt a bit guilty and were quick to lean in to press a kiss on her cheek. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. I’m sure you would have been wonderful- but I’m tired. That’s all, okay? It’s nothing personal.” 

And with that you opened the door. The air from the hallway was brisk, causing goosebumps to instantly break out on your bare arms and legs. You were expecting the balding, bespectacled Barry to be standing on the other side of the door, all in a huff about “expenses” and “damages to the venue”. Blah, blah, blah. 

Instead it was Ellie. A very broken looking Ellie. 

The girls were quick to straighten out their outfits, their attention now turned towards the guitarist. Groupies like this didn’t care who they slept with, just so long as they were getting it in with someone that was in the band. 

“You’re Emma. . . right? The new guitarist? You were so great tonight. I mean- Leon was always a bit of a poser anyway. You’re killing it.” One of the girls started, moving to stand next to you in the doorway. 

You weren’t sure why, but you felt angry. Genuinely angry. Were you jealous of Ellie? No, because you were sure they would still rather fuck you than her. You’d been their first choice, afterall. Maybe you felt the need to shelter Ellie a bit? Yeah, that had to be it. She was still learning the ropes, and the last thing she needed was to be sexually harassed in a hotel hallway.

“. . . -lie” She was mumbling under her breath, eyes locked on the expensive carpet beneath her ratty old sneakers. 

She had changed out of her stage clothes and put on jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair looked wet too, meaning she’d already taken a shower. She smelled earthy- Alpine, even. 

You leaned against the frame, slamming your hand against the doorway to box the two women in, hoping to keep them away from the newbie. They flinched but both seemingly weren’t off put in their newfound pursuit. 

“You’re the most talented guitarist I’ve ever seen live. I mean. . . your solos were incredible.” You hadn’t managed to successfully remember the girl’s names. Just that they were friends with two guys that had worked security for the venue tonight. People often took advantage of connections like that in order to get close to you and your bandmates. It usually worked too. Tonight was different though. Tonight you had a real stick up your ass. 

Ashley? Amber? Sophie? God, you were bad with names.

“. . . -is Ellie.” Your guitarist mumbled again, slowly moving back down the hall in the direction of her suite. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion over her attitude, and you were quick to stumble out of your room and down the hall after her. 

“Wait! Emma, can we get an autograph!” One of the half naked girls called after the two of you, trying desperately to shrug on her shirt to follow after. 

Ellie turned then, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. You’d. . . You’d never seen her like that before. 

“My name is fucking Ellie! Who is Emma? Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, trying desperately to find her keycard. 

The girls gasped at her outburst, jostled by the look of pure evil on her face. Even you were taken aback, not used to this kind of attitude from her. Still, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t know why she was acting like this. 

Ellie was what some would call a “mega fan”, though that would be putting it lightly. The word “stalker” would be more appropriate. Your manager knew that before he even messaged her for an audition. He’d checked all of her social media sites and scrubbed the internet for anything he could find on her. One thing was made very clear: 

Ellie was obsessed with you. 

For whatever reason she seemed to be keeping it a secret from Gene and Chris. All she fessed up to them was that she enjoyed your music, which was why she’d auditioned in the first place. She’d conveniently left out the dedicated fan blogs and the status of her cult-like following.

You didn’t mind it. Sure, it was a bit creepy. . . but she was talented and you liked her. She could hold her own against Gene and Chris’ constant asshole behavior, and had been receptive to Barry trying to teach her the ropes of the business. It was obvious that she wanted this, even if her motives weren’t exactly purely for the music. You’d let her be as close to you as she wanted if it meant that she’d continue playing the way that she does. The crowd had loved her, and it was only her second show with the band. 

She was a bit shy, but that would pass eventually. You remember your early debut days vividly. You’d been just like her, maybe even a little worse. 

“Hey, stop for a second.” You reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her from fleeing after her outburst. She turned to glare at you, but her eyes softened as she took in your features. 

You could feel her arm trembling in your grasp, so you gently let go. No matter how many times you touched her or spent time with her, she still seemed to get overly nervous in your presence. It was endearing. 

“Aren’t you a bit busy? Don’t let me ruin your fun-” She was being sarcastic. 

“I was done with them by the time you knocked on the door. They aren’t exactly my type. I’m not sure why I even invited them back in the first place.” If you had to guess, you’d probably done it out of habit. You were used to inviting people back to your room or tour bus. 

Ellie didn’t seem pleased by your answer. If anything it seemed to upset her even more. She bristled, reaching back into her pocket for her keycard. What did she want to hear? That you hadn’t touched them? You groaned, wiping an exhausted hand down your face. 

The elevator dinged behind you, meaning the girls had finally taken the hint and were leaving with their tails tucked between their legs. 

“Are you jealous or something?” You asked once the elevator doors were closed. The last thing you needed were the girls trying to sell information to some shitty gossip magazine. 

She froze, eyes going wide and lips going pale. It was almost like she didn’t think that you knew all about her dirty little secret. A part of you wanted to tease her. Really make her squirm. 

“Why would I be jealous? Those girls weren’t exactly my type either.” She was good at playing things off. Ellie was a good liar. 

But you were good at sniffing out the bullshit. It was one of your many talents. 

“Not of me,” You leaned against the wall next to her door, watching with curious eyes as she began fumbling in her pockets for her key. “Of them. Do you wish I had taken you back to my room or something?” You cooed flirtatiously, flashing her one of your most sinister smiles. 

She coughed, turning around so that she could hide her face from you. This nearly had you groaning out loud in disappointment. Was she blushing? Do her freckles look even brighter when her skin gets all pink and hot? 

Nah, it was dangerous to think like this. Band members were always off limits. It was a recipe for disaster. The last thing you needed was another Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham situation on your hands. Your PR team wouldn’t be able to recover. They’d just barely gotten over the “Leon” incident by the skin of their teeth. 

Your old band member having to be tackled by three cops in a hotel lobby was horrible. It made you look sloppy. And sleeping with the brand new edition to the band was definitely sloppy. 

“You’re acting crazy.” Ellie told you, shoving the keycard into the lock so that she could clammer into her room. 

Pushing the boundaries was sort of your thing. You enjoyed being bad, fuck the consequences. Right about now you wanted to kiss Ellie. What would her reaction be? Was she a good kisser? You wanted to know. No- you needed to know. 

“You’re right. I’m talking nonsense, don’t listen to me,” You called after her into the room. “Sweet dreams.” 

And with that you sauntered back to your own room, practically purring in delight over the fact that it had been that easy to get to Ellie like that. You loved pushing the boundaries. . . and now you had a new toy to play with.

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[discordantwritings]

Always Return to You (Shanks x Reader NSFW)

Warnings: Some guys being creepy, gn afab! reader, love confessions, slight exhibitionism (the tavern is closed but yknow), PiV sex, creampie, not beta read

WC: 2.8k

Summary: You and Shanks have been flirting for a while now and you can’t help but wonder if it’s just entertainment for him- or if he has the same feelings that you do.

Note: I mean there’s a reason he’s bagged Buggy and Mihawk. This man has skills. This man has swagger. I hope I captured a sliver of his BDE.

When the Red Haired Pirates rolled into town you always knew you were in for some long nights serving at the local bar. You didn’t mind though, they always tipped well, were significantly nicer than your average pirate, and then, of course, there was the captain.

You never know what to make of Shanks. Logically you know he’s got a huge bounty and a reputation for being one of the strongest pirates in all the seas. But when he rolls into the bar with a lopsided grin and the laugh of a man who doesn’t have a worry you can’t see a terrifying pirate.

His crew and him hang around your bar for a week every few months while they restock in a large port nearby and you can’t help but look forward to when his ship cruises in. You’ve built quite the friendship up with Shanks over the years, finding him easy to get along with and easier to talk to. The two of you have shared stories until the morning hours and despite everything he’s experienced he still cares and pays attention to yours as much as you do his.

And, if you are able to admit just to yourself, you love the flirting. Shanks flirts with everyone, and you’re no exception to his wandering gaze and cheeky words. Even though his affections are not only for you you can’t help but feel special when his eyes travel down your figure. You give it as good as he gives too and Shanks always loves it, but neither of you have ever crossed that line.

He’s a pirate captain. You’re just some server. It’s never going to happen.

But that doesn’t stop the pang of jealousy you feel every time you see him leave the bar with someone else tucked under his arm. You would never do or say anything but deep down you wonder how it feels to have that strong hand on the small of your back or that bright red hair in your fingers while his head was-

“Did ya miss me?” You almost drop a drink when you hear Shank’s voice right next to you.

Looking up you see him leaning on the bar next to you, that stupid lopsided smile on his face. You have to fight down embarrassment that he just caught you in the middle of thoughts about him. Having been brought back to reality you finally notice the rest of his crew taking seats in the tavern, rowdy in a way that makes you feel like you’re having fun as well.

“Do you think I wait around for you to come back?” You don’t look at him, just continue loading drinks onto your tray for the other large party of pirates here.

“Of course not.” He slides a bit closer and helps you balance the final drinks. “Just thinkin’ about how I missed lookin’ at you.”

You shoot him an annoyed look, but there’s no malice behind it. “Yeah, yeah. You say that to everyone.”

“But I mean it with you.” He fires back.

“Keep dreaming.” You say as you walk away to deliver the drinks.

“Always of you baby!” He shouts with a laugh, finally moving back to his crew.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the large grin that comes over your face. Shanks has a way of making the atmosphere lighter and honestly, you needed it tonight.

The Red Haired Pirates weren’t the only group in here tonight- some low level scumbags occupied half of the tavern and you cringed when you turned to deliver their drinks and got greeted with drunken catcalls. But you took a deep breath and pushed all your emotions down as you handed everyone their drinks. At least with Shank’s crew here you know someone will tip well tonight.

Throughout the night you hover around the Red Haired Pirates, seeking the kind reprieve from the more obnoxious guests of the night. Everyone is kind to you and you catch up on the adventures they had while they were away. You don’t pay special attention to Shanks, but you can feel his gaze on you whenever you’re around. The way he looks at you versus the way everyone else does- it’s hard to place what’s different logically but it just is. You feel safe with Shanks, no matter what you know that if you ever seriously said no he would back off, which is not something you’d trust most men to do.

As the night wears on everyone gets drunker and sloppier and the guests start getting worse and worse. It’s becoming exhausting to ignore the hoots and hollers mixed with nasty whispers when you bring the next round of drinks. The Red Haired Pirates have been slowly leaving as the night wore on and not having that buffer was starting to take its toll. Luckily, Shanks was still there.

Despite the amount of drink you know he’s had he’s surprisingly composed as he sits back in the wooden booth. His gaze has something stirring underneath it and you follow his sight line over to the other crew of pirates. Sliding him another drink you decide to question him.

“They a rival crew or something?” You can’t imagine that sloppy group could compare to Shank’s crew, but you weren’t sure what else it could be.

“No.” He doesn’t stop staring. “But if those dirty assholes don’t stop eye-fucking you they are going to regret it.”

Oh.

His words stop your thoughts in your tracks and you can feel your brain having to hard reboot. Your body has no issues though and you can feel arousal pool down in your belly.

“You don’t-“ You stumble over your words as your brain finally catches up. “It’s not a big deal.”

Shanks finally turns his gaze to you and seeing him serious is a strange feeling. “It should be. You want me to deal with them?”

You glance back over at them and then down to your watch. “It’s almost closing anyways. They aren’t worth your time.”

“But you are.” When he says things like that normally he’s usually smiling with a light tilt to his voice but this time he’s deep and sincere. Your heart goes head over heels in your chest.

“I have to- um-“ You point back to the bar where a few patrons are waiting to pay their tabs.

“I’ll stay with you while you close, alright?” His words calm you, no longer having to worry about if any of your more unsavory guests are going to try and hang around after hours. You nod and smile at him before walking back to the bar to finish up your night.

You’re not sure if Shank’s egregious glaring was the reason the final hours of the night went so smooth but you’re certainly not complaining. The rowdy patrons slowly filter out as you start to clean up and Shanks is surprisingly helpful, putting up chairs while you mop the floor. However, thoughts have been gnawing at the back of your head.

Finally having everything cleaned up and ready for tomorrow you and Shanks head for the door but you stop halfway and have to speak up. “Shanks, can I ask you something?”

He stops and turns on his heels, slight concern on his face. “Of course.”

“Do you-“ Embarassment works its way up your neck and you avoid Shank’s gaze. “I just have to know if-“

Shanks is patient with you, not speaking as he walks closer to you.

“Do you actually like me.” You finally manage to spit out. “Because we have this thing and it’s fun but sometimes I wonder if this is how you act with everyone or-“

Your words trail off and there’s silence. After a few moments you work up the courage and look up at Shanks. His bright red hair falls over his face as he seems lost in thought. You don’t notice his arm moving until his hand interlinks in yours.

“I don’t think like is really the word I’d use.” He brings your hand up and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “Love might be more appropriate.”

“You can’t just say things like that.” There’s no hiding your embarrassment now, a blush probably covering every inch of your body.

“Why not?” He uses his hold to pull you in closer, your chest grazing his. “It’s true.”

“And you’re not just going to sail away and leave me here?” You squeeze his hand, searching in his eyes if he’s telling the truth.

“I always come back for you, don’t I? I certainly don’t keep coming back here for the food.” His eyes are shining and he has that signature grin back in his face.

“You’d keep coming back to me?” Your other arm comes up and drapes around his shoulder.

“Nothing could stop me.” There’s a sincerity and strength to his words that has you melting.

His face is so close to your now that he’s taking over your senses. You can smell the beer you’ve been serving him but the strong scent of the sea will probably always linger on him. You move closer, his lips painfully close to yours.

“Are you sure-“ You don’t even finish your question before Shanks has closed the small distance between you.

You’ve imagined what it would like to kiss him countless times but actually kissing him blows all of your fantasies out of the water. Slow but confident movements have you melting into him. His hand releases yours and snakes around to the small of your back, pulling your body flush with his. He doesn’t let up until you’re breathless, pulling away with a gasp.

Shanks rests his forehead against yours patiently giving you time to breathe again. Turning your gaze up you lock eyes with Shanks again and you see a flash of hunger in his gaze before he’s kissing you again. Your knees go weak and you feel the low rumble of Shank’s chuckle as he starts to lead you backwards until you feel the back of your knees connect with a table. Breaking away again you hop up to sit on the table, hands coming up to grab Shanks by the collar of his shirt to pull him in again. His legs go between yours, forcing your thighs apart as he leans over you.

“So.” His mouth comes down to your neck, words spoken in between opened mouthed kisses to the skin there. “You want me to bring you back to my ship now or bring you back to my ship after I’ve fucked you on this table.”

The moan that leaves you is involuntary and you hook your legs around his waist, hoping that answers his question for him. It doesn’t.

“Oh c’mon I want to hear you say it.” He comes back up to look you in the eyes. You try to turn away in embarrassment but his hand comes up and softly redirects your chin back to him.

“I want you to fuck me on this table.” You whisper, catching the way his pupils dilate at your words.

“That’s it sweetheart.” He returns to attacking your neck as your arms come up around his neck.

Using your grip you drag you hips up to his and grind down, moaning when you feel his clothed erection through the layers of fabric. Unable to help himself he ruts his hips into yours, biting down into your neck.

“Eager, aren’t we?” His hand is at the waistband of your pants, slipping under and down to your center. Fingers quickly find your folds and he chuckles when he feels how soaked you are.

“Been thinking about you all night.” You confess, lifting up into his touch.

“Fuck, me too.” He kisses you with a renewed heat and you gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers push into you.

Taking advantage of that his tongue enters your mouth and you let yourself be swept up in the sensations. Two calloused fingers scissor inside you and you grip Shank’s bright red hair at the base of his neck.

It isn’t long until Shanks is pulling his fingers out and you whine at the loss. You’re about to complain until you see him bring his fingers up to his mouth and lick your slick off.

“Shit you taste good sweetheart.” You moan at his words and the heels of your shoes dig into his back. “Should I get a better taste now or later?”

Damn him and his choices. “Later- I need you inside me.”

You both break away for a few moments to fumble with your pants and you kick yours off fast, the wood cold against your bare ass. When Shanks’ pants come down you can’t help but stare. He’s big and while you are slightly afraid he’s not going to fit you would be lying if you weren’t up for the challenge.

Shanks seems equally captivated by you, his hand pushing your thighs apart so he can get a better look. “I could feel you were soaked but damn, all this for me baby?”

“Just for you.” Those words seemed to be exactly what Shanks wanted to hear because he wastes no more time.

Gripping himself he drags the tip of his cock through your slick, mixing it with the precum leaking out of him. He slaps his tip onto your clit and your hands shoot out to his shoulders to stead yourself.

“Stop being such a tease.” You huff.

“Oh c’mon you know you love it.” But he relinquishes to you, lining himself up with your entrance.

Even just the push of his tip into you stretches you and you take deep breaths as he slowly sinks further into you. The stretch rides the line between pain and pleasure and you claw at Shanks’ back.

“You’re doing so good for me baby. Taking me so well.” He whispers in you ear, soothing you as you adjust to his size.

It takes you a bit for the pain to completely fade into pleasure as he sits in you as far as he can go. When you’re finally ready for him to move again you nod, and Shanks begins to move. His pace is slow and you feel every inch of him drag in and out of you.

“Fuck baby you’re so tight.” His head is pressed against your shoulder as he uses all of his self control to go slow with you.

“I just think-“ You cut yourself off with a moan as he bottoms out again. “That you’re just fucking big.”

Shanks laughs. “Two things can be true.”

You can’t stop the smile that comes over your face. His sense of humor was infectious like that. Your laughs turn into a moan as he picks up the pace, and you can’t help but feel like you’re being split in half. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he pulls you in for more deep kisses.

The slow build of your orgasm comes creeping up on you, your walls clenching around Shanks. You know he feels it because he stops kissing you to let out a deep groan as his thrusts stutter. It doesn’t take him long to recover though and when he trusts into you again it’s faster and deeper than before. His hand comes down between the two of you and his skilled fingers work your clit while he whispers in your ear.

“Need you to cum on my cock baby. Want you to remember this every time you work. Can you do that? Cum all over this table for me baby?” His filthy words and fast movements send you spiraling and it’s not long before you’re cuming with a scream.

Shanks isn’t too far behind you. “Where-“

You don’t need him to finish his sentence and you use the remaining strength in your legs to lock his hips to yours. He cums deep inside you with a shudder and you’ve never felt so full.

The two of you sit there intertwined as you both come down from your orgasms, heavy breaths the only noise in the room. When he finally pulls out you can feel his cum begin to leak out of you and you have to admit you love the feeling.

“I’ll be right back.” Shanks kisses your forehead as he walks away for a moment but comes back with a damp rag to clean you and the table up.

“So.” You link your arms around his neck. “I think you might have to carry me back to your ship.”

That lopsided grin is back on his face. “Baby if it were up to me I’d carry you everywhere.”

“So romantic.”

“Anything for the person I love.” He grabs your hand again, kissing your knuckles.

You know life will be hard with a partner who’s a notorious pirate, but you know your heart is his and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

[miuszn]

i’m actually so obsessed with your bouncer!ellie.. we need a fic immediately 🤭 -🪐

taste of lust

SETTING : modern au

WC : 5011

WARNINGS : sexual harassment ( nothing graphic ) ( but reader is sort of implied to have trauma related to it , nothing stated explicitly tho ) , bouncer!ellie x bottlegirl!reader , idk shit about clubs so like some stuff might be insanely inaccurate but i did my best to research ( sorry in advance ) , dash of dealer!ellie bc who doesn’t love her , dom!ellie , sub!reader , teasing , overstimulation if u squint , ellie calls u pretty girl & princess , readers first time with a strap , ellie refers to her strap as her cock , i’m not fluent in english yet so there might be mistakes , not beta read

A / N : hello everyoneeee !!! i know this took FOREVER to finish and i’m so sorry about that .. i’ve been super super busy and this fic was so long omg T_T there was a point i started over completely bc i didn’t like the direction it was heading to .. this fanfic shit gets serious truly . in case u missed the warning there is sexual harassment in this fic and reader is implied to have trauma related to it . putting this here again to make sure u guys see it . anyway , i took so long to post this and so much stuff happened !! but alas , it is here , the bottlegirl!reader and bouncer!ellie fic !! this is my fav fic of mine so far so i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i liked writing it <3 ( and yes there will be a part two !! )

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

being a bottle girl wasn’t exactly the job of your dreams. having to deal with creepy rich men every friday and saturday night was definitely not something you enjoyed doing, but that was what paid the bills and allowed you to live a rather comfy lifestyle for a college student. the bad part no one tells you about going to a top college on a full-ride scholarship is that a lot of the students are rich kids who most definitely cheated their way through high school, who live in nice apartments paid for by their mommy and daddy, who use birkins and other designer brand bags as their school bags, who would never be caught dead eating at the cafeteria. of course, you felt out of place. you weren’t exactly poor, but your family definitely could never afford that kind of lifestyle.

you’re pretty. extremely pretty. and you knew you could use that to your advantage. so when you saw a new club in the city that was looking for bottle girls you immediately knew you had to apply. sure, you had to deal with a couple creepy customers every night and sometimes even had to remind them they’re not allowed to touch you, which was annoying. you also hated being seen as an object, and you knew that’s exactly how these men saw you, and what was even worse was those very unsettling “you remind me of my daughter” comments from older men since you were so young. but the money was the main thing you needed, and you were able to put up with all this because of the pay. although the salary itself is just enough to survive, most of your earnings were in tips, and you made good tips. with a little bit of flirting and pretending you were really into customers, you scored lots of tips in the hundreds and sometimes even thousands. that wasn’t really enough for you to be able to afford luxury items whenever you wanted, but you were able to treat yourself every once in a while and that was enough for you.

you and your coworker ellie are the only college students that worked at that club. she wasn’t a bottle girl, however, she was a bouncer. during busy nights the bouncers typically took turns being at the door, and the rest would be inside the club making sure everything was fine. she didn’t mind being inside, it meant she could steal glances at you. truth was, she was into you, and it was obvious. but you took it as her just wanting to get a reaction out of you. that’s what it seemed like. but you can’t lie, whenever she wasn’t looking, you’d stare back as discreetly as you could.

she was a little possessive over you, which you weren’t really aware of. whenever she saw you flirting with customers, she couldn’t deny she felt a little jealous. she of course knew you were just trying to get more tips. regardless, she still couldn’t stand seeing the way you twirled your hair, spoke in that sweet and flirty tone, and even sometimes gave them compliments, and the fact it wasn’t towards her. she wanted it to be her, and her only. she wanted you to be hers. but she never did anything aside from flirt with you a little every once in a while, because she was scared she’d make you uncomfortable.

ellie. where does one even begin to describe her? her strong arms, her short auburn hair she styled as a mullet or put in a half bun when she felt a little lazier, her mesmerizing green eyes. from the moment you laid eyes on her you found her extremely attractive, but you were too shy and didn’t know how to approach her. what’s funny is this is the total opposite of the character you put up for your customers, an extroverted, flirty girl. the thing with you is, you can flirt with people, but only when you’re not attracted to them. when you are, such as in cases like these, the main thing you do is avoid avoid avoid. you rarely had the opportunity to interact with each other, but when you did, you always felt she was trying to subtly flirt with you. it was the kind of flirting where it was hard to tell wether she was flirting with you or just being nice, so you simply took it as being nice because you didn’t think there was any possibility she could be into you. she was just out of your league. even if it was flirting, you didn’t know if she had any other intentions. so you decided to play it safe.

that night was different from the others. your boss informed you that there’d be a bachelor party tonight and surprise surprise, you’d be serving them. the thing about bachelor parties is they’re very demanding and their tips can vary a lot. and demanding in your vocabulary is basically a synonym for entitled. they’ll insist you sit down, have a drink with them, maybe even try to grope you or something. you were not happy about having to deal with them tonight, but your boss told you they were short-staffed tonight, so you’d simply have to suck it up.

the moment the group of about 15 men came in, ellie sensed something was wrong. she rejected about half of them at the entrance before being informed by her supervisor that it was a bachelor party. she didn’t really care. she knew they were up to no good.

“i really don’t think we should let ‘em in.” she crossed her arms.

“any good reason?” he asked, annoyed.

“something just feels.. off,” she whispered, “i dunno. feel like they’re up to no good.”

“i don’t pay you to do ‘vibe checks’ on people.”

“i still don’t think we should let ‘em in. feels like they have bad intentions. have you seen how they’ve been eyeing the rest of the female staff?”

“big deal, this is a night club,” he brushed her off. “that’s how men look at women in nightclubs, williams. suck it up.”

“that still doesn’t-“

“do you want to keep your job or not?” he snapped.

she sighed and rolled her eyes, defeated, and hesitantly let the group in. her eyes were glued on them until they sat down at a table, the feeling in her stomach worsening when she realized you’d be dealing with them. it was one thing for any of the other girls to have to deal with them, but for some reason, she found herself way more worried about you. you were newer to the job and a little younger than the other girls. she couldn’t bear the thought of someone possibly harming you, or taking advantage of you, or anything like that. she felt this strange desire to protect you, something she hadn’t really felt towards anyone before. she felt this way toward you, yet she barely knew anything about you.

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

tonight was going to be a long night. the moment those men sat down, you could immediately tell. you could tell by their piercing gazes, which you swore you could physically feel even though you weren’t looking at them, that you’d have to remind them several times they can look but not touch. you heard them whispering stuff to each other while looking at you and then laughing and hitting each other as if they were a group of teenagers. you took a deep breath, put on a smile, and finally went over to their table.

“hey boys,” you greeted with a flirty tone, “anything i can get you guys today?”

“yeah, a piece of that ass.” one of them said, while the rest laughed.

you faked a giggle, trying to do your best to handle this professionally, as you would with all the other annoying customers.

“anyway,” you continued, “do you guys have anything in mind? if not, you can take a look at the stuff we have over there at the bar.” you said, while pointing at the bar.

“we’ll need a moment, babygirl.” one of them replied, holding out his credit card.

you nodded, took the card, and quickly walked away. you absolutely hated that nickname. before you took this job, you didn’t really mind it. but when you started getting called it by basically every single customer you eventually grew to hate it. if you hadn’t been working, you at the very least would’ve given them a death stare or contemplated telling them off (even though you knew you’d never have the balls to do anything of the sort.)

after a couple of minutes, one of them whistled at you to get your attention. strike two. another thing you very much hated. now you were even being treated like an animal. who the hell do they think they are?

you walked over to them and plastered a fake smile on your face and asked if they were ready.

“we just wanted to know what you recommend. i’m sure you drink lots since, you know, you work here.”

some of them chuckled, and you didn’t really get what was funny. but you decided to not start anything and just answered the question.

“well, we have lots of options,” you responded, “we have many of the classics you can find anywhere else, and we also have some that are less common. we just got the louis xiii cognac which is very hard to find, so i’d recommend that one.”

“yeah? are you just saying that ‘cause it’s the most expensive?”

“if you want less pricey options, we have those too.” you replied, avoiding the question. of course you were suggesting it because it was the most expensive. that’s kinda your job. you’re supposed to make money.

“we can afford it.” one of them said.

“yeah, bring us that one.” another chimed in.

you smiled and nodded, walking away. gosh, you felt them draining any energy you had every second you spent near them. you carefully took the bottle and put it on your tray, and grabbed a few glasses and put them with the bottle. you made your way over to their table, placing their glasses in front of them one by one, and although you weren’t looking at any of them, you knew they all had their eyes glued on you. you tried your hardest to pour their drinks quickly enough so you could just get out of there, but not too quickly that they’ll notice. unfortunately for you, they caught onto what you were doing.

“why’re you pouring so fast, babygirl? you in a hurry?”

tonight was going to be a long night.

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

ellie couldn’t wait for her turn at the door to be over. she made sure to peek inside every chance she had, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t eyeing you. she couldn’t help it. she couldn’t stop looking at how the black shorts and black baby tee you wore hugged your body and showed off your figure, and she had never been more grateful for the existence of the uniform. but above looking at you because of how attractive you were, she wanted to make sure you were safe. she had dealt with lots of men like them before, and she wouldn’t hesitate to kick them out if things escalated even the slightest bit.

after a while, her supervisor dismissed her and told her to stay inside to make sure nobody was causing any trouble. of course, she went over to the area you were, since there was no one watching over that area and because you were there.

“why’re you pouring so fast, babygirl? you in a rush?” she overheard one of the men speaking to you, with a sort of entitled tone. if she hadn’t been paying attention before, she definitely was now. with the way they were acting, it seemed like they didn’t notice she was there. you were clearly uncomfortable, but tried to play it off, you didn’t want to cause trouble or provoke them. she watched closely as they kept offering you to sit down and drink with them, not listening to you no matter how many times you politely told them you’re not allowed. telling you to “just have one drink, it’s fine” and “no one will know” and they “won't tell your boss.” but your boss was not the only concern. the concern was you. you didn’t know these men, you didn’t know what they could do.

but suddenly, one of the guys sitting on the edge of the seat pulled you in by the hip and forcibly sat you down. in that moment, ellie immediately went over to the table and knew she had to step in.

“sir, you’re not allowed to put your hands on the employees. i’m gonna have to ask you and the rest of your party to step outside.” she said in a stern tone.

“she willingly sat down with us,” one of them lied, “she just wanted to have a drink. nothin’ wrong with tha-“

“i saw what happened. no point in lying. now please step outside before i have you forcibly removed from the premises.”

“yeah?” he stood up to face her. “you’re just a woman. what’re you gonna do? you can’t get all of us out of here.”

“sir, back down.” she warned.

“or what?”

she didn’t respond. instead, she punched him in the face, breaking his nose. a few of his friends stood up, but before they could do anything, some of the security had already gone over to the scene and stopped them, escorting them out as ellie went with you to the break room.

“you alright?” she asked, seeing how shaken up you were.

“i’m, uh, i’m fine. don’t worry.” you responded, sitting down on the couch, still uneasy from the experience. you hated people touching you without your consent, even something that was sort of minor like this. you were already uncomfortable, and this just made it even worse. you didn’t notice ellie had sat down next to you until she wrapped her arm around you and you melted in her embrace. you felt a little embarrassed at how comfortable you felt with a girl you’ve only had small talk with prior, but you were able to push that feeling away because in that moment, you didn’t care. the fact she hadn’t judged you and said “it’s part of the job” or something along those lines, let alone saying you were overreacting was enough to tell you that you could trust her.

“do you, uh, want me to drive you home?” she broke the silence.

“i can’t. i have to finish this shift.” you mumbled. “plus, my roommate has someone over tonight. i can’t go home right now.”

“then, if you want, we can go to my place,” she suggested, quickly adding on “but just so you don’t have to stay in this environment, i’m not trying to be creepy i promise,” because the last thing she wanted was for you to take it the wrong way and be uncomfortable.

“thanks, but, i still have to go back out there and finish my shift.”

she was a little sad. if it was up to her, she’d make you quit and happily support you. she made a lot of money for a college student, between working as a bouncer and dealing weed on the side. she had more than enough to support the both of you, but she’d never talk about anything of the sort out loud.

“i can speak to management for you,” she said, “i’m sure they’ll understand.”

you accepted hesitantly, the voice in the back of your mind telling you you’d just end up fired. but that didn’t matter to you in the moment. you had to get out of there. you couldn’t stand it anymore.

ellie guided you through the back door, making sure you wouldn’t have to face those men again, holding you by the wrist with just enough strength to make sure she wouldn’t let you go easily but not too hard so she wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. she opened her car door for you, waiting a couple seconds for you to get settled in in case you needed her help for whatever reason.

the car ride was short and silent. it wasn’t the awkward kind of silence, more so the kind of silence when there’s nothing to say. it was a comforting silence, a drastic contrast from the loud music in the club that had been blasting in your ears for the past 2 or so hours. you were looking out the window, watching the city lights and buildings as you passed them. ellie would be lying if she said she didn’t steal a few glances at you when you were looking away. she couldn’t help it, you were just so mesmerizingly beautiful she couldn’t help but look at you any chance she could.

when you finally arrived at her place, you were surprised to see she had a house and not an apartment. it wasn’t a big house, but it seemed like it could house about 3 people. you were about to ask about her roommates, but almost as if she read your mind, she said;

“sorry about the mess, i uh, i live alone, so. don’t usually have people over either.”

“it’s fine,” you shook your head, “i’m just grateful you let me come here.”

she noticed you sounded like you were in a better mood. “you feeling a little better now?”

you nodded. “yeah. i guess i just needed to get out of there.” you bit your lip in worry. “but now i don’t know what to do. i’m pretty sure i’ll end up getting fired after leaving like that.”

“after what happened to you? nah. it’s understandable,”

“are you sure? i-i mean, am i not supposed to let them know beforehand-“

“you’ll be fine, don’t worry.” she reassured you. “you’re sort of new, aren’t you?”

“not really. i’ve been working there for a couple months.”

“so you’re new. got it.”

you playfully rolled your eyes. “sure, let’s say that.”

she smiled. “anyway, you wanna do anything? or do you just wanna rest?”

“i guess we could watch a movie or something,” you suggested, “if you want, of course.” you were surprised at how bold you were. it wasn’t anything too bold, sure, but that’s only true for everyone else. for you, something like that, which others might think is minor, is sort of a big deal. not only were you at this girl’s house, but suggesting to watch a movie as well. you were a bit scared that might’ve been too much.

“yeah, sure,” she replied, “you into horror?”

“uhh.. not really..” you admitted.

“it’s fine, we can just watch something else.”

“no, no, it’s fine!” you insisted. it was, in fact, not fine. especially at this time, horror was not your thing. it wasn’t a huge fear of yours or anything, but you were a little embarrassed of the fact you still got scared while watching them, sometimes even got nightmares. but no way you’d admit that to her right there. you felt you were already being too much of a burden on her, so you’d just suck it up to not bother her any further.

a few moments later, you were both on her couch watching some random horror movie she had picked out. you didn’t even know what was going on in the plot, you were way too scared. you’d argue this was one of the scariest movies, scratch that, media in general you’ve ever seen. where did she even find this sort of stuff? ellie was full of surprises indeed.

you didn’t notice you had snuggled up to her, your head laying on her chest, from the fear. once you realized, your face turned red as you pulled away in embarrassment and mumbled some apologies as you moved away. to your surprise, she lightly tightened her grip of her arm she had wrapped around you (which you only now noticed as well), telling you with no need for words that it was fine, and you could stay that way. you didn’t really know how to react to that, but you stayed. something about her was so comforting. you barely knew her, yet you trusted her as if you’d known her all your life. it was a strange feeling. you’d been on multiple dates with the same person many times before yet you still felt more of a connection with your coworker who you had only spoken to a handful of times beforehand. you weren’t even paying attention to the movie anymore. your mind was too busy paying attention to the thoughts racing in your head to process what was going on in the screen about a meter in front of you. you had lots of questions, and the more that popped up in your head, the more your heartbeat sped up.

ellie could feel something was wrong. she lightly lifted up your chin to make you face her, locking eyes with you. she asked if it was because of what happened earlier. you felt like you should look away, but you couldn’t. something about her was just so mesmerizing. you lightly nodded, not wanting to admit all the thoughts in your mind at that moment. you looked into each other's eyes for a couple seconds, before she planted a soft kiss on your lips. it was the type of kiss that happened almost as a reflex, the type that you have almost no control over. you could feel her try to pull away after realizing what she did, but before she fully pulled away you pressed your lips against hers, pulling her in this time in a deeper kiss.

before you knew it, you were straddling her lap as she placed kisses on your neck, occasionally sucking on it softly and leaving light purple marks on your skin. you hadn’t realized how much it was turning you on until you started lightly rocking your hips back and forth, desperate to get any sort of friction. ellie realized what you were doing, and placed her hands on your waist, almost guiding your movement, causing you to let out a few soft moans and whimpers.

“ellie..” you whined.

“i know, baby, i know.”

she carefully lifted you off her lap and laid you down on the couch, hovering over you. she tugged on the hem of your shorts.

“let’s get these off.” she said, as she undid the button and slipped them off you with ease, revealing your soaked cotton panties. “cute,” she thought to herself.

“i’ve barely touched you n’ you’re already so wet,” she teased, rubbing your clit through the thin cloth causing you to moan softly.

after a moment, you started to whine, tired of her teasing.

“desperate, huh?”

you broke eye contact as you looked away in embarrassment. in the back of your mind, you couldn’t believe everything that was going on. you found it a little embarassing, hooking up with a coworker you had barely spoken to prior. but as you had been doing the whole night, you tried to push those thoughts to the back of your mind and focus on the moment.

“don’t feel ashamed, pretty girl.” she said, noticing you felt a little off. something about her caring but almost demanding tone was turning you on even more.

she carefully pulled your panties to the side, sliding two fingers in, thrusting them at a slower but steady pace. this was better, but it still wasn’t enough. you bucked your hips ever so slightly, to tell her you wanted more.

“you’re gonna have to try a little harder than that, baby,” she said. she knew exactly what you meant, but she wanted to hear you say it. you whined in complaint, hoping she wouldn’t make you say it out loud.

“use your words, princess,” she smirked while locking eyes with you.

“please, ellie..” you begged.

“please what?”

“please, more..”

“good girl,” she said under her breath, speeding up her pace and thrusting her fingers inside you twice as fast as she was before, causing you to moan and whimper louder. soon you started feeling a knot forming in your stomach, making you attempt to grip the couch.

“ellie.. fuck..” you moaned.

“i know, pretty. but you don’t get to cum yet.” she smirked, suddenly pulling her fingers out.

you whined at her words and the sudden emptiness inside you, as ellie softly chuckled at your reaction. she found it so cute. she found pretty much everything about you to be cute.

she stood up, and went to grab something from her closet. it was a bright purple strap, and it was quite big. you weren’t sure it would even fit inside you. you watched as she effortlessly took off her pants and put the harness on, walking back to the couch and positioning herself, the tip right in front of your entrance.

“i want you to cum from my cock.”

she started sliding it along your slit, coating it in your slick, causing you to whine a little, before positioning it once again in front of your entrance and slowly sliding the tip inside you easily.

you were still a little scared since you had never done anything like this before. you’ve gotten fingered before, sure, but this was the first time someone used a strap on you. especially one this big.

“ellie..”

“hm?”

“i’ve never, uh,” you stuttered, “done something like this.”

“never gotten fucked with a strap before, huh?” she said, “i could tell. you seem kinda nervous. but relax, princess, i’ll take care of you.”

the nickname only turned you on more. you didn’t get why you loved it so much. it had never crossed your mind, yet you were now sure it was your favorite pet name ever.

with that, she started slowly sliding it in, looking at your facial expressions to make sure she wasn’t hurting you. surprisingly, you were able to take it all. she started thrusting it at a slow pace, gradually speeding up, but not quite fast yet. she definitely wanted to fuck you way harder and faster, but she wanted you to get used to the feeling first.

after a few thrusts you started to get used to the feeling, and it was amazing. she sped up her pace a little more, gripping your thighs, and this time she was able to locate your sweet spot, and boy was she about to abuse it. she hit it with every thrust, making you twitch and moan at every wave of pleasure.

“good fuckin’ girl,” she praised, “already taking my cock so well.”

“ellie.. please..” you begged, between moans, “faster..”

“yeah? you sure you can handle it, tough girl?”

you nodded, and she immediately sped up. she fucked you a little faster than you expected, and it was a little too much, but the overwhelming pleasure was, at the same time, addicting. the sounds of your moans and whimpers, her groans, and your wet cunt filled the room. soon, that familiar knot in your stomach started forming again, except this time it was much more intense, causing you to try and grip the couch once again. she realized what was going on, and started using her thumb to rub circles on your clit. you started tearing up from the overstimulation which was the littlest bit painful but also overwhelmingly pleasurable.

“i wanna hear you say my name, baby,” she demanded, “i know you’re close.”

and almost on cue, you came all over her cock as you moaned her name, just as she demanded, as she fucked you through your orgasm and finally pulling out with a slight pop.

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

it had been about an hour since you finished your.. activity. she insisted on getting a bath started for you, and now there you were on her bed, in one of her t-shirts that was a little big on you, freshly out of the bath. you texted your roommate before getting in the bath to tell her you wouldn’t be coming home tonight, and of course, she didn’t mind that at all.

not only were you on ellie’s bed, but you were cuddling her, trying to sleep. she told you you didn’t have to, and that she just enjoys sleeping with body warmth, but you knew better. maybe it was true, but it sure as hell was not the only reason. but you didn’t mind. you acted stupid and like you bought her story, because truth is, you really wanted to cuddle with her, and you were even thinking of similar excuses if she hadn’t brought it up first.

“you awake?” ellie whispered.

“mhm, sort of.” you replied, in a sleepy voice.

“i just, uh,” she paused for a moment, “i just wanted to know. when will i see you again?”

“on our next shift together.” you joked.

“no, dummy, i mean like this.”

you thought about it for a moment.

“i guess we’ll see,” you responded softly, “i’m pretty sleepy. i think we should talk about this later.”

she seemed satisfied with your response, but she still had the fear you were only saying that to be polite, and you didn’t want anything more or didn’t want this to repeat. of course, she’d respect you if that was the case, although she’d be a little disappointed. but she felt there was something more there, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. you weren’t like any of the other girls she’s hooked up with before. she wasn’t exactly sure what set you apart from them, but she knew there had to be something.

maybe it was just feelings.

but even if it didn’t seem like that was the case because of your shy personality, you wanted something more. just like her.

[stardew-shitposterino]

Stardew Valley Bachelors and how they deal with their secret crush on the farmer

———-——————————

BEHOOOOLD! I’m kind of back but I’m not because I have a job and feel tired most of the time. I still need to get used to adult life. Anyway, here are the bachelors and how they deal with having a fat crush on you, you cutesy farmer person covered in filth!

Contents might be a bit NSFW so MINORS…you know what not to do *fights them off with a stick*

Enjoy my brainrot 🍓🥰

Sam:

-Sammy is a cute little guy, almost like a dog wagging it’s tail when they see their owner.

-he is SO BAD at hiding it

-he will dream about you two jamming on a big stage together. In his ideal world, you two are a successful duo who make noise rock (kind of like the white stripes minus the weird siblings or married controversy)

-Sam will write songs about you. It’s not intentional per say, and he thinks he really sucks at writing love songs, but it just happens whenever he has to think about you. The words just start flowing.

-he might or might not have had some steamy shower fantasies about you…while in the shower. Jodie keeps complaining about the water bill being unusually high 👀

-yet, Sam is usually not too horny when he is in love with you. He is more gushy and daydreamy than anything

Sebastian:

-homeboy works with nightcore versions of love songs to cope with his longing

-he isn’t the type to show his feelings so openly, so no one really notices his crush on you. Maybe Sam, but well, he is Seb’s best bud. Of course he can tell

-He notices how his sleep has improved since having a crush on you. He willingly goes to bed earlier to have some time to imagine scenarios of you two

-just you and him together on his cool ass motorcycle, driving into the night and ending it with a passionate kiss (sounds familiar?)

-well,,, let’s just say Seb is increasingly horny since having a crush on you. Before, he was almost certain he is some sort of asexual, but nope 😃 he’s healthy and extremely down bad for the filthy farmer who eats raw fish out of the pond 🥰

-what I mean by horny? Uhhh… he didn’t really need to rely on certain websites to satisfy his needs, that’s for sure 👀

Harvey:

-Harvey is a good man. A very good man

-god bless his soul 😫

-Harv isn’t the type to have crushes easily…I can’t believe it either, considering his crush on Maru who is way younger than him 💀

-but in my head, he isn’t the type to be all lovey dovey over someone. That’s why he’s so bad at hiding it. But you don’t really notice. You just suspect it but it could also be his usual anxiety lol

-it happened anyway😎 and he doesn’t know how to cope. At all.

-he has to think about you at all times, especially when he looks at the empty jars of delicious pickles you’ve made him

-This man is usually collected, but now?! He forgets everything, can’t even form a comprehensible sentence at times when his mind is busy thinking about a romantic picknick date with a lovely farmer

-Harvey’s libido is pretty much a dead beat horse 💀 but now he even feels the desire to do some nasty nasty at times. It’s still pretty tame, he’s a gentleman through and through, but wild for him to have those feelings and longings after what feels like decades. He’s not mad at it. He has felt low-key dead inside for so long so this is very exciting and he’s eager to explore this side of him…despite being anxious 😭

Elliott:

-bet your ass he’s the prince of crushes

-he is very dedicated and welcomes those refreshing feelings with a kiss

-feeling better than usual AND having inspiration to write ?! SIGN HIM UP

-he will use every chance he can get to talk to you, maybe even get you drunk (in a non creepy way) because he likes when you’re unapologetically authentic and let loose. It makes him feel more in touch with your soul (or some shit idk I’m not a poet)

-Elliott is NOT SUBTLE

-you practically know from the start that he has the hots for you, but it’s kinda funny seeing him try to pretend it’s not that way…if you can even call that pretending not to be 😭

- his passion doesn’t end at his artistry. This guy will spend a lot of time in his shower thinking about what could be, or sitting at the docks at night just staring at the sea (he’s NOT doing anything nasty in public, peeps. Don’t get it twisted)

-I can also see him recreate a romantic bedroom date he’d love to have with you…but it’s just him 🤷🏼‍♀️ self care king 👑

Shane:

-like Harvey: HE CANNOT COPE!

-he hasn’t felt like this since high school. Every other encounter with potential partners was surface level and only based on sexual satisfaction

-so caring about you, thinking about what makes you happy and how he could be the reason you smile every day, that’s a lot for him

-as stupid as it sounds, he spirals and becomes low-key miserable over it. Give this man a 101 lesson on how to process emotions 😭

-despite the constant anxiety he feels, he low-key enjoys it. It’s kind of hopeless as well as pointless in his honest opinion, but there is this believe, that 0.00001% chance (in his mind) that he could turn his life around and be happy with you, married and maybe have a child of his own one day

-but that’s wishful thinking, riiiiiiight? So what does a self loathing piece of alcoholic man do instead of making a move? Yeah, self pleasure even more than usual, to get at least a bit of serotonin and the willpower to get his shit together, at least for you if it isn’t for him. He’s pretty rough with it too (ouch, unless you’re into that)

-sorry bros but him having a crush is not really all that cute. He’s my cutie pie, but let’s be real: him dealing with those feelings he tried to shut off for so long will be tragic in a way. He’s battling his inner demons here. So yeah… :(

Alex:

-my man, my maaaaan 🥰

-he has earned a soft spot in my heart, bless his soul

-so Alex has a crush on you from the start, it’s basically canon

-can he show his feelings? Yes! Can he do that in a way that can be read as the feelings he tries to get across to you? NO!

-low-key bullying is his love language 🥰

-at least in the beginning. He’s a bit anxious and fears he isn’t good enough for you, so he doesn’t try to be authentic. Being the jock jerk everyone expects him to be gets a reaction out of you and that’s better than nothing, right?

-he’s neither the poetic nor the intellectual type, so he doesn’t process his emotions by writing them down or putting them into words. Just imagine him going about his work-out routine, just thinking about your beautiful smile and rocking bod while sweating like a hog

-Alex and quiet ? Yes that’s possible. I imagine him to go quieter than usual since having a crush on you. He processes everything internally and that takes a lot of time for him as he usually just shrugs off his emotions and doesn’t try to brood too much on them. But now?! He can’t but blush in silence as he just imagines how soft and small your hands must be next to his (yours are way more impressive than his and calloused to the gods, but let him have this moment)

-when it comes to being nasty…Alex is a serial romantic. We know that he probably was the lady’s man back in school so he probably got some action one way or another. In other words, man has the libido of a teen that just hit puberty 💀

-despite being quite horny, he was able to manage to just do it every other day. Now, he cannot even get out of bed in the morning before doing it as you pester his dreams and make his hormones go crazy first thing in the morning…so many nice boxer shorts were lost along the way 🫡

-he also did his own laundry for the first time during that period lmfao

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (04)

chapter four: spring daffodils

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; a creepy dude but nothing happens, err this chapter is pretty mild? idk, not very edited (i apologize, i just live like this lol) word count: 3.5k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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It was bittersweet You were like a dream And I was your girl on the passenger seat Right next to you We were unstoppable We thought we had it all

I’d Do It Again - Violette Wautier

The first thing you feel when you wake up is Minho’s arms, wrapped tightly around you. Your face in the crook of his neck, your legs tangled up together. It’s as though this is your millionth morning waking up with him.

He’s still fast asleep, soft puffs of air escaping his lips. So peaceful, so ethereal with the light from outside your window shining on his side profile.

He looks like an angel, absolutely unreal, that you can’t help but admire him. How the playful sunshine kisses his sculpted nose, caresses his cheeks, its particles of light lingering on his pink and pouty lips. Every feature, every single detail of his face, beautiful. Sharp, stunning, flawless. The universe really took its time with him.

You'd say that this is a pretty objective opinion. Ask anyone and they would concur. You don’t think you could ever get tired of looking at Minho.

There’s a sudden urge that grows in you - the selfish need to be the sun itself. You want to be the sun, to be the reason why there’s warmth and light in his life, to give him nothing but good things, nothing less than what he deserves.

Your axis shifts. It’s overwhelming just how much you want to be good for him.

Minho is supposed to be your friend.

You don’t think you’re supposed to feel this way about your friend.

The beautiful boy next to you stirs, and you instantly shut your eyes. You wait as he stretches a bit, then he holds you tighter, closer, the proximity making tears well up behind your closed eyelids. It’s so nice just being in his arms like this. So wonderful and so right.

You feel loved, even if it may not be the kind of love that you’ve been searching for.

A gentle hand strokes your hair, and just that simple action is enough to make you melt, a tightness tugging at your heartstrings all of a sudden.

If Minho was a season, he would be spring. Beautiful and heavenly spring. Some may argue that it can’t possibly be the case because people often view him as callous and mean, and you hate it every time anyone speaks about him that way. They don’t know him like you do, and he’s been nothing but warm and kind to you for as long as you’ve known him.

To be more precise, Minho would be the onset of spring, when the brutal and lonely winter eventually has to make way for the beginning of a new season. It’s a subtle transition, a gentle inauguration of warmth where the earth welcomes life into its open arms again. When daylight starts to last longer and snow begins to melt in between cobblestone cracks. When buds on trees start growing into their luscious green coat and flowers slowly burst through their roof of soil to bring forth colors for spring. Everything is soft and delicate, easy to overlook if you don’t pay close attention.

That’s what Minho is to you - a new beginning. Calming, welcoming, steady.

You want to snuggle further into the heat of his body but you’re afraid it might blow your cover, so you keep on staying still. He’s close, closer than you two have ever been when you aren't having sex, but it’s not enough. If it was possible, you would wrap you and him up in your own little bubble where the concept of time is foreign and you could stay here forever. You wouldn’t have to go back to your boring routine and deal with the stresses that you’ve been carrying all your life.

It’s like a switch has been flipped. You want more. It’s a fleeting thought, but the imprint it leaves behind isn’t ephemeral at all.

A simple life with Minho and the spring. That doesn’t sound too bad.

Min: wyd tomorrow afternoon? You: i have to go buy paint after class. Why? Min: can i come with :(  You: u wanna go look at paint with me for 2 hrs? Min: no lol Min: i cleared my whole afternoon because kim seungmin asked me to go suit shopping with him for his sister’s wedding but he’s ditching me, so i have no idea what to do Min: you’re my last option You: thanks. i’m v flattered You: hyunjin refused to entertain you? Min: don’t like him You: 🙄 You: chan? changbin? jisung? jeongin? lix? there’s no way they’re ALL busy Min: i didn’t ask. don’t like them either You: so i’m not your LAST option then Min: no. but you’re the only one i’d rather hang out with You: you’re weird Min: so tomorrow? You: the store is a bit far away though Min: i can take you. i’ll borrow chan’s car

You assume that Minho would pick you up right after your class finishes since he told you that he was free all day, but you still end up having to wait for him while wandering aimlessly around campus, the messages that you sent him sitting in your phone delivered but not read.

He appears about twenty minutes later than you thought he would, rolling up in Chan’s new car that he just got a couple months ago. You get into the vehicle with an unimpressed look on your face, clicking the seatbelt into place before you turn to him in the driver's seat.

“Punctual,” you comment pointedly.

“Sorry. I went to that cafe you like but there was a line.”

“Oh,” you say, your earlier annoyance waning quickly when you notice the cup holders between the two of you. “Why did you go all the way there just for shitty matcha lattes? We could’ve just gone to the campus cafe for that.”

Minho grabs a paper bag from the backseat before he places it neatly in your lap like a little present. "But the campus cafe doesn’t have those overpriced croissants that you’re always raving about."

You stare at the baked good in your lap - an almond croissant filled with cream cheese and strawberries. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you say. “But thank you.”

Minho looks at you. “You forgot to eat lunch again, didn’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because you’re looking at that thing like you’re deeply in love with it.”

You roll your eyes before plucking a cream cheese-covered strawberry from the bag and taking a bite, dramatically throwing your head back as you sigh in exasperation, “I might be deeply in love with you right now.”

When you finish the strawberry, you turn to look at Minho, only to find him already staring at you with his sharp eyes. He holds your gaze for a few seconds, then brings a hand up to brush away a dot of cream cheese off the corner of your mouth. You half expect him to put the finger in his mouth like hot fictional characters tend to do, and yet, your cheeks still catch fire when Minho meets your expectation.

He catches sight of your flush but doesn’t throw you a teasing comment or anything of the likes. Instead, he just chuckles - a bit endeared if you can say so yourself - and starts the car.

Minho is gracious enough to let you choose the music for the drive and in turn, you offer him the last piece of your cherished croissant (everyone knows the last bite is the best bite), plopping the pastry into his mouth while he keeps his hands on the wheel, only for him to complain that it has too much cream.

When you get to the art supply store, Minho picks up a basket by the door. The store isn’t that big, but they have the best selection out of all the other places you’ve been. Hyunjin keeps telling you to come to the store that he frequents - the one that sells those fancy watercolors that you don’t really need - but you’ve been going here for ages. You used to live nearby so it was more convenient, but this is still your go-to spot even after you moved closer to campus. The sense of familiarity associated with this quaint store isn’t something you’re quite ready to let go of yet.

You peruse the aisles alongside Minho, who dutifully carries the basket for all of your things without you even asking. He doesn’t really try to make conversation while you study the colors, which is a little uncharacteristic but you don’t think much about it. He just quietly watches you, and you like how even the silence is comfortable between the two of you.

After a while, he asks, “Do you have a theme in mind?”

You do, but you think it’s a little silly to say out loud so you don’t. Although you know Minho would never make you feel small or diminish your ideas, it’s not something that you’re really keen on sharing at the moment.

“Kind of,” you say. “It’s not fully fleshed out yet. I know what colors I want to go for though.”

You meticulously pick out the acrylics you want for your painting, mostly dark and dull tones. You have a vision of what you want to achieve on the canvas, and you spend a decent chunk of time deciding on your blues, grays and russets.

A somber scene, anyone can tell.

For the finishing touch, you pick up two tubes of yellow paint, trying to decide between Golden Poppy or Spring Daffodil. Either one is a stark contrast to the melancholic feel you were going for before.

Turning to face Minho, you raise your hands. “Which one?”

He stares at the acrylics for a minute in silence. “They’re yellow,” he concludes.

“Duh. But which shade do you like better?”

“They look exactly the same.”

You purse your lips, then hold your hands closer to his face as if it’ll help. "No, look. This one is slightly lighter but muted. This one is more vibrant but the shade is deeper."

Minho hums as if in thought. You wonder if he actually sees the differences, but he probably doesn’t. Hyunjin is usually the only person in your friend group whom you can talk to about these things since he’s the only other art major of the bunch.

“Is yellow supposed to be happy?”

Hope, is what you want to say. You want it to end on a lighter, brighter note. Happy feels too unattainable even if it’s only ideals and colors on canvas.

But maybe sometimes being hopeful is the same as being happy. Maybe for some, that’s all you can really ask for.

In spite of it all, isn’t hope the only thing that persists?

“Sure,” you say, “yellow is happy.”

After a brief moment, Minho plucks the tube in your left hand and puts it in the basket. Spring Daffodil it is.

It’s kind of a nice thought, isn’t it? That Minho had a helping hand in your work. That there’s a little bit of him in your art.

You go to the cash register with a basket full of goodies, only to realize that you don’t actually have anything on you.

“Ah, crap,” you mutter, turning to Minho. “My wallet is in my bag. In the car.”

“I’ll get it,” Minho says, handing you the basket. “Be right back.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll just check something out over there.”

And then he’s off, the bell by the door ringing to announce his temporary departure. You wander over to a shelf in the corner where they store their brushes. There’s a filbert brush that you’ve been eyeing for a while.

You go over the selection, debating whether or not you should replace some of the brushes you have at home. Most of them are worn out; they’ve been with you for ages now.

You don’t notice the second chime of the bell, too immersed in studying the bristles, envisioning the strokes they would create on canvas.

You don’t pay attention to a voice talking to you either. That is, until a shoulder nudges yours and you find yourself looking up at an unfamiliar face.

Taking a step away from the stranger, you say, “Can I help you?”

The man doesn’t look like he’s your age, but he doesn’t look that much older either. Probably just by a few years. “I was just saying that filbert’s a good choice,” he chuckles.

“Oh, yeah.” You give him a small smile. “It’s a good brush.”

“Great for blending. It really makes the strokes stand out, y’know.”

“Mhmm. So I’ve heard.”

Glancing at the contents of your basket, he asks, “Are you working on a project?”

“Just something for a class.”

He hums in acknowledgment, to which you give him a nod in return. The conversation is short and awkward, as one can probably expect when they try to make small talk with a stranger over something as random as a paintbrush.

And especially when the recipient of said small talk is you, who’s been described on multiple occasions as “unapproachable” and “intimidating”.

That, and the fact that you suffer from a major case of resting bitch face and you’re not really keen on talking to strangers when you it’s not absolutely necessary.

You move to the next aisle, going back to look at the selection of colors from which you’ve already taken your pick earlier with Minho. You don’t need a second look, but it just feels a little weird to still be standing in the same corner with the man.

You think that it would be the end of your interaction, but then he moves along with you. He follows you as you walk, before soon obliterating any space between your body as he strides next to you, your arms brushing one another.

“I’ve actually noticed you in here a few times,” he says.

“Sorry?”

“I’ve seen you before.” This time, he tells you with a smile. “I just never worked up the courage to talk to you until today.”

It’s not a bad smile, nothing Joker-esque but the way he says it with practically no space at all between the two of you makes you a little squeamish.

You wonder what’s taking Minho so long.

“Oh,” you say, not really sure how else to respond, trying to shuffle away from him but there’s not much room to accommodate the both of you. “That’s... uhm, actually, could you-”

He gets the hint, but it’s not like you were trying to hide the discomfort on your face. He takes a couple of small steps back, which doesn’t really count as stepping out of your personal space but it’s a little better than before.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not coming on too strongly. You’re just... I think you’re really pretty,” he says with a small laugh, the kind that would be charming if real life was a romcom and you two were the main characters. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Thank you... uhm, I’m... flattered but I’m here with my boyfriend today.”

You can tell that the mention of a significant other throws him off, because he doesn’t exactly do a very good job at concealing his surprise.

“You usually go alone, though.”

Oh...?

Right. Definitely not a romcom.

You can’t help the slight frown that tugs on your brows upon hearing those words. If you were somewhat irritated before by a random stranger who can’t really take a hint, then that feeling is rapidly melting away to make space for a sense of unease that crawls up the back of your neck like a rogue spider.

You can normally handle mildly persistent guys who keep insisting on chatting you up, but you’ve never actually had someone drop a creepy line on you before.

In a place that you’ve frequented for years now.

You’re suddenly wildly grateful that Minho demanded to tag along today.

“My boyfriend is just getting some stuff from the car,” you settle on telling the man. “He’ll be right back.”

“Maybe I can keep you company while you wait.”

“Thank you but that’s not necessary.”

“Not even for a few minutes?”

“You really don’t have to do that. My boyfriend will be back any-”

Then you’re being pulled to the side, the abruptness of the moment briefly disorienting you that you almost lose your balance if not for the arm around your shoulder keeping you steady.

You glance up with widened eyes, though they soften after a couple seconds as relief washes over you. Minho leans down to kiss you before you can say anything; the only sound that escapes you is a surprised Oh! which he muffles with his lips.

“Sorry I took so long, baby,” he says once he pulls away. “My mom called to ask if we’re still coming over this weekend. You’re still up for Sunday, right?”

“Hmm?” You try to ignore the tingle in your lips and the spike in your heart rate, but you quickly blame it on the suddenness of his actions. “Yeah... yeah, Sunday’s good.”

Minho smiles softly, his hand squeezing your shoulder comfortingly pressing another kiss to your cheek - for further emphasis, you suppose - before he turns his attention elsewhere.

His expression changes completely. Instead of a cute smile, his mouth is pressed into a hard line, his gaze a cold glare. “Can we help you?”

The man doesn’t instantly back off like you thought he would - Minho can be quite scary when he wants to be - but glances between you and Minho like he’s assessing the situation.

The kiss, the arm around your shoulder, the deadly look in Minho’s eyes, plus your friend has been working out more often lately and it shows.

The unwanted stranger eventually raises a conceding hand. “Nope, all good. Sorry for bothering you,” he says, plastering that smile on his face again. “Have a good day.”

Minho takes the basket from your hand and steers you away. He keeps a hand on your back while you pay and collect your supplies at the counter. Basket duty turns into carrying the bag of acrylics for you even after you insist on doing it yourself.

Once you’re in the car, you turn to him with a grateful smile. “Thanks for the save.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “I’m sorry though. I was getting your bag and Hyunjin called screaming about something. I didn’t know you were stuck with a weirdo. What did he say?”

“I’ve never seen him before but he said he’s seen me around. He kept trying to talk me even after I said I had a boyfriend. And get this, he knows that I usually come here alone. I don’t know, I’m a little grossed out.”

Minho frowns. When he says your name, it’s full of concern. “He knows that you usually go alone? That’s creepy.”

“I know!” Leaning against the headrest, you sigh, “Ugh, this is where I always go to get my supplies.”

“Why don’t you just go to the place that Hyunjin goes? It’s close to campus.”

“But everything’s so overpriced there. Besides, they have the best selection here. It’s my go-to.’

He goes quiet then, and speaks up after a moment of contemplation. “Tell me whenever you need to go. I’ll come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” There must be incredulousness written all over your face, but his expression returns to neutral, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You know all of your friends are quite protective, but still.

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering.”

“It’s not like you’re free all the time.”

Minho hums, acknowledging your point because it’s true. He has a life of his own and shit that he has to deal with; he can’t be around to babysit you 24/7. Not that you even need him to anyway. “If I can’t go then I’ll make sure Hyunjin goes with you. Or Jisung. Any one of the guys.”

“It’s not that big a deal.” You look at Minho, to which he just stares back. “I know I said today was weird but I’m not that helpless.”

“I know you’re not helpless.” He holds your gaze, briefly wondering if he has offended you somehow. “If you won’t do it for your sake, will you at least do it for mine? I don’t want you to be in a bad situation when I can help make it better for you.”

The tone he uses to deliver his words doesn’t really leave you any room to argue. You would probably just kinda look like an asshole to brush him off when all he genuinely wants is to ensure that you’re safe.

Eventually, you only purse your lips and nod, which seems to appease Minho for now. Of course you’re thankful that you have good people by your side. If the roles were reversed and this happened to any of your friends, you would be all up in arms for them too.

But way beyond that appreciation is something that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s similar to the feeling you got the first morning you woke up next to him. A fluttering sensation in your chest, warmly touched by how much he cares, how much he’s willing to do for you.

It’s simply absurd to you that anyone would think Minho is cold.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom (italicized = can’t tag)

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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 15.02.2024]

[hotluncheddie]

For the @steddie-spooktober day 17 prompt : hayride

rated: T | cw: none | tags: Steve Harrington owns a farm, Eddie Munson is a clown, fluff

🤡🤡🤡🤡

Steve is on the last leg of the days final hay ride rout. It’s been another weekend of setting up and making sure all the stalls are covered with their seasonal workers, checking in with health and safety and ensuring the entertainers got the newest version of the final Halloween themed weekend schedule, before everything shifts to the Christmas holiday themes.

But it went off without a hitch, another solid season overall.

The farm had been his passion project. Built thanks to his Grandad’s sudden death and meticulous stipulations that all his money go to his only grandson. Freeing Steve completely from under his father’s thumb and allowing him breathing space to finally do something he enjoyed. Even if he is using the business degree his Dad bullied him into, it’s definitely not the route his father wanted for his life.

But Steve loves it. Every moment. Working outside, with people he trusts, like Robin who runs the creative side, marketing a decorating and generally making the place look amazing. Being an honest to god farmer, much to his mother’s chagrin gives him a real sense of purpose and pride, every pumpkin he manages to grow is like a pat on the back.

And, privately, Steve gets to give kids the kind of memories that he could only dream of when he was younger. And that’s worth more than anything.

That last thing is part of the reason why he so often spends the last couple hours of opening running the hay ride. He gets to hear the families and kids enjoy their time together, react to the view and the wooden characters Robin painted, huddle into their coats and snuggle in close. It’s magic. Steve loves it. So he drives the tractor as often as he can.

It’s great. He loves his life, he really does. But, unfortunately, it can’t all be perfect. This season in particular has had one little problem. One bit of danger.

The danger which just so happens to be the first thing he sees as he rounds the last bend of the hay ride. Eddie. Their newest entertainment hire and the thorn in Steve’s side.

He’s way too hot for Steve to be any kind of normal around him.

A honest to god clown. With tricks and magic and jokes and songs. With his little autumn themed outfit and matching makeup. Steve’s heard nothing but good things about him, a shoe in to be rehired every season going forward. The crowds can’t get enough of the guy.

Which is all great. If Steve didn’t have a disgustingly huge crush on him.

Even dressed fully in his clown paint and outfit he’s hot.

It really shouldn’t be hot.

But it is.

And Steve can’t even think about what he looks like in his normal clothes because he could honestly start to get hard thinking about it. The guy is insane.

Not to mention one of the kindest sweetest people ever. To everyone, but it seems to Steve especially. He can’t count the amount of times Eddie’s made him blush just from being so sweet or a little flirty or a little tease.

So really, it’s been hell, the whole season, because I Steve can’t work out a way of asking the guy out that doesn’t make him come off as some creepy boss.

And now Eddie’s there, waiting for Steve at the end of the hay ride. And Steve has no damn clue why.

Steve parks and opens the gate for people to file out. Waving and thanking them for coming, hoping to see them soon.

He stalls until everyone is gone, until the section of farm is empty except the two of them.

Steve bites his lip, jumping up to grab the tractor keys so he can have another moment not looking at Eddie.

Eventually though, he turns, smiles. ‘You good man?’ He asks.

Eddie nods. Looking fidgety. He’s still in his clown makeup but his costume’s been replaced with black jeans and a padded flannel.

Steve crosses his arms and tries not to think about that way the denim stretches over his thighs.

Eddie takes a deep breath. ‘I know you’re my boss and all. But, well, my last shift just finished and I would love if you extended my contract, seriously, but. I’d honestly kick myself if I didn’t at least try.’ Eddie says in a rush.

Steve scrunches his eyebrows.

Eddie revels a bouquet of balloon flowers from behind his back, shy through the face paint, biting his red lip.

Steve is lost for words, mouth opening and closing dumbly.

This is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to him.

‘This is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.’ He says, dumbfounded.

Eddie smiles, his whole face lighting up. ‘Steve Harrington, will you please go on a date with me?’ He asks.

Steve laughs, takes the flowers and sniffs them just to hear Eddie’s giggle. ‘Yeah.’ He whispers. ‘I’d really like that.’

🤡🤡🤡🤡

Tag list: @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @thecatkingsthrone @marvel-ous-m

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots

[astupidweeb69]

hello!! I am kinda nervous to write this bc I absolutely love your writing and the way you portray Toby is just so real. I love how you make him both a loser and a force of nature, like just bc he has no rizz doesn't mean he can't do anything lol. But I was lowkey thinking about your stories the other day and like, what if Y/N also had some screws loose? Like he pops up at her house covered in the blood of some guy who wouldn't leave her alone and instead of calling the police like a smart person she's just like: " 😳 omg you did this for me??" I know it's unrealistic and silly but it's also kind of interesting???

Ticci Toby x Violent! Reader

Toby with an unhinged reader? Well - there's a recipe for disaster lmao.

I know I said I'm not taking requests but this ended up becoming a scenario. I just had some inspo - hope this is what you were looking for! Because the reader isn't submissive? Idk

Y/N has some messed-up thoughts and there are mentions of violence under the cut!:

The reader I imagine in this case would have only seen how cringey Toby is - thinking he was just a creepy guy who's taken a liking to them and would avoid him at all costs. Probably up until this point assume that he's a wimp (Toby would initially try his best to seem weaker and unassuming when he approaches the person he likes)

The scenario I imagine is that Y/N grew up around conflict, and is fully comfortable around violence, even throwing a few punches themselves here and there. Maybe ended up in Juvie when they were younger and now works in some retail job - something where they regularly interact with the general public.

A customer tries to hit on Y/N when Toby's there - big mistake.

But Toby doesn't say anything at first.

He doesn't have to.

Y/N immediately shuts the customer down. But the guy doesn't let up. Curses are thrown back and forth, Y/N's wrist is grabbed.

He touched you.

Toby doesn't like that. Not one bit.

You get reprimanded by your boss after you punched the unruly customer in the face.

Luckily they didn't press charges.

You had a bit of an edge, from your surly demeanor and fucked sense of humor, but Toby had no idea you'd do that.

Kind of turned him on. He knew he picked you for a reason.

But alas, that was the extent of your revenge. You already had a record of aggravated assault and you didn't need another one added to the list.

Luckily for you that scrawny, lanky boy who always stared at you when he came in had a plan in motion.

Late at night, a knock on the door wakes you up from a nap on the couch. Of course, you look through the peephole first before answering.

Red.

Everything is red.

Only until you hear a familiar voice pipe up do you realize who it is.

Toby.

The blood covered so much of his face it was hard to point out who he was at first.

He speaks to you through the door, somehow already knowing you're there.

And he tells you what he did.

It takes a moment for you to process all the grizzly details, the way he followed the man, cornered him in an alley, and beat him so hard he'd pretty sure he cracked his skull on the brick wall.

He sounded giddy about it. Gleeful.

He was far from the loser you thought he was.

And you liked it.

Liked that he did that for you.

After all, in your head, hurting someone for someone else was the greatest form of love. It was the kind of devotion you'd always dreamed of from a partner.

You open the door.

Toby is surprised, but soon sees a look on your face he recognized. The kind of expression of sick joy and arousal that comes with blood lust.

You're blushing too. Blushing for him.

Everything was finally coming together perfectly, and once you let him into your home, he's never going to leave.

The relationship would start right off the bat. Toby is one to rush things.

It's all to claim you. Both mentally and physically. So you're attached to the hip pretty much. Expect a lot of PDA (Toby does not care who sees lol)

And a reader who's fully on board?

Yeah you're going to bring out the worst in each other. He'll encourage you to do more crimes, to get bloodier, to join him.

It would be a very bad situation for everyone involved.

But especially for anyone unfortunate enough to cross the paths of you two lovebirds.

[lynzishell]

The Present ❤️ Selvadorada

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

Asher: Jesus, look at this place. This is the museum?  Atlas: Yep, this is it. Asher: Wow. Kind of intense, isn’t it? Atlas: Little bit.

Little Sister: What is it? Big Sister: It’s a dinosaur, stupid. Little Sister: I’m not stupid, you’re stupid. Big Sister: Good one. Little Sister: Shut up. I’m telling mom. Big Sister: [mocking] i’M tElLiNg MoM

Child: Mommy, why can’t we go downstairs? Parent: That section isn’t for kids, sweetie. Child: Why? Parent: I don’t know, I’ve never been down there.

Twin1: Why did they frame it if it’s broken? Twin2: Because it’s old, duh. Twin1: So, it’s old and broken and that makes it special? Twin2: [shrugs] I guess. Twin1: Dad, I’m bored. Can we get ice cream?

Atlas: Holy shit. Asher: What? Atlas: I’ve seen these before. Asher: Really? Where?

Atlas: Well, I… in a dream, I think. Asher: What? Atlas: Yeah, I used to have this recurring dream, and there were skeletons in it just like this. Three in a row. Asher: Weird. Atlas: You have no idea. [waves to museum employee] Excuse me.

Sam: Hi there, I’m Sam. Can I help you with something? Atlas: What are these? Sam: Ah, these are the Temple Guards. Atlas: Temple? Sam: Yes, the jungle used to be home to three ancient temples. They were said to contain great treasures, and people would come from all over in search of them. The Guards were one of many things that would protect the temples from trespassers. Asher: They don’t seem very intimidating.

Sam: [laughs] No, these wouldn’t. These are just replicas. The real ones are much larger and are said to have the ability to curse their enemies. Atlas: What kind of curse? Sam: It varies. Legend has it, they take the victim’s greatest wish and turn it into their nightmare. Asher: Creepy. Sam: Very. If you’re interested in learning more, we have the real thing downstairs. It’s a slow day. I can give you the full tour at a 25% discount. Asher: Um… Atlas: Let’s do it. Sam: Follow me.

Sam: Now, everything you see around you, with the exception of some reinforced archways and support beams, comes from the actual temple ruins. These temples were constructed as mazes with various floors, rooms, hidden doorways, and dead ends. They were designed to confuse their enemies and cause them to get lost, unable to find their way out. And, if that wasn’t enough, the whole place was booby trapped. These devices here, they would shoot arrows at anyone who tried to cross them. However, they contain a puzzle. By solving the puzzle, one could deactivate them and continue on.

Sam: This is the kind of room one may find themselves trapped in. The only way out, again, is to solve the puzzle. Get it wrong, and each podium has a different punishment in store for you. Atlas: Why would anyone go into these temples if they’re so dangerous?

Sam: Oh, plenty of reasons. Greed, adventure… Sometimes people just think they’re special. That, even if hundreds have failed before them, somehow, they’re the one who will make it through, the one who will make it out alive. But I’ve yet to hear a story where someone did. Trouble is, once you’re in, there’s only one way out, and good luck finding it.

Asher: [pokes Atlas] Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Atlas: [nods] It’s perfect. Sam: This way, my favorite room is just up ahead.

Asher: Whoa. Atlas: This is amazing. Sam: Right?!

Sam: There are freshwater pools in the jungle. We have no idea how they got there, but they’re said to have been cursed. That they were originally created as traps for those seeking out the temples. It could be very temping to go for a swim, but if you were to try it, you’d be pulled straight to the bottom.

Asher: Fantastic. Atlas: You okay? Asher: How ‘bout we move on? Sam: Oh, uh, sure.

Sam: And here we have the real Guards. Asher: Okay, yeah, these are a bit more intimidating. Atlas: The real ones? Sam: That’s right. The very ones that stood inside one of the temples. Atlas: The temples, are any of them still there? Sam: ‘Fraid not. Only ruins. We’ve collected what we could and preserved it all here in this museum.

Atlas: I think maybe it’s time we head back to our rental. Asher: Yeah. This place is creepy, isn’t it? Atlas: That’s putting it mildly. Sam: Well, good news is, the next stop is the last on our tour. Bad news is, it’s about to get a lot creepier. Asher: Not sure how you’ll manage that.

Sam: This is Barbara. Asher: Barbara? Sam: Well, no. She doesn’t have a name, so I make up a new one every time I come down here. Just whatever pops in my head. So, today she is Barbara. Asher: You really enjoy your job, don’t you, Sam?

Sam: I do. And this is my favorite part. You see, it wasn’t only those looking for treasure or grand adventures that were trapped in these temples. Anyone who wandered nearby could fall victim. Legend has it, the temple

would come alive at night, and so would Barbara. She would crawl her way out of the ground and lure in anyone who dared to get too close. As I mentioned, once inside, there was only one way out. But also, there was a limited amount of time in which to escape. Once the sun rose, the temple went to sleep again, the exit sealed, and anyone left inside was lost forever.

Atlas: What happened to them? Sam: Nobody knows.

[Later]

Asher: I’m so glad we’re finally back. I’m exhausted after all that. Atlas: Me too. You were right. We never would’ve made it out of the jungle before dark. I’m glad we decided to wait. Asher: Me too. We should get to bed soon so we can get up early tomorrow, take our time. Atlas: Good idea. [snuggle] Hey, Ash, I— Asher: Jesus, do see this? Come here.

Asher: I can’t believe how many stars are out tonight. We never see this in the city. Atlas: It’s beautiful. Asher: Sorry for cutting you off just now. What were you going to say?

Atlas: Oh, um… nothing. I was just going to say that I love you. Asher: [smiles] I love you too.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Literally anything Eddie Diaz I am a SLUT for that man

you and me both!

Eddie Diaz x fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) masturbation, Eddie receives a handjob, oral (m receiving)

The moment Eddie laid eyes on you, he was convinced he was in love with you. Okay, maybe love was a bit of an overstatement, but the attraction was definitely there. The second he saw you washing your car in nothing but a tight tank top and a pair of short shorts, he swore to go that he was going to cream his pants right there.

It was liked you had walked right out of one of his wet dreams with the way the water was falling down your skin in beads, the way you were bending over to wash the hood, giving him a great view of your ass.

He didn't look for long since he didn't want to freak you out so he moved on, rushing into his house before you could see him. But that scenario replayed in his head on a loop. It was slow motion, making it even more appealing, definitely looking like more sexual then you had intended since you were just washing your car.

But he thought about that for days, not able to shake it off. Anytime his mind wasn't occupied, there you were, somehow looking even more hot than you had previously. And the thing was, he didn't want to shake it anyway. He wanted you to stay as long as possible.

He didn't mean to do it. He was fully intending on thinking about someone else, a celebrity crush or someone along those lines, but he couldn't help it. You were the whole reason he was hard and he really needed to relieve himself.

He didn't even know you and now you were the star of his masturbatory scenarios. God, he really needed to get laid. And soon. What he was doing was definitely creepy and he knew that. He needed to find someone to get under so he could get over you once and for all.

And then he would see you at the neighborhood functions and you were so sweet, talking to everyone like you were old friends. And after a while, you'd always make a beeline for him, treating him the same way you did everyone else. After his first conversation with you, he could have sworn that he was in love with you.

Eddie came home from a long day at work, ready to take a much needed nap, but as soon as he saw you in your driveway across the street, he was wide awake. You were like a shot of espresso, the thing that always seemed to wake him up even after a very exhausting shift.

You waved to him as you tended to your garden then turned back to it, giving him a view of your ass again. It was like you were doing it on purpose now. You were always in your yard when he came home from work, almost as if you had timed it perfectly.

And you had. You would have been lying if you said you hadn't developed a little crush on your neighbor. He was just so sweet and kind and not to mention hot. You had seen him without a shirt a few times when he had been walking around his living room as he got ready for work.

You wanted to know what it felt like, wanting to feel his chest hair, his mustache rubbing against your top lip as he kissed you with so much passion, the whole thing getting so heated that you had no choice to remove your clothes in the process.

You shook the thought out of your head and went into your house, trying to think about anything and everything but your hot neighbor. You did dishes and folded laundry, the man taking up every inch in your brain no matter how hard your tried to stop it.

You could imagine him standing beside you, drying the dishes or helping you fold your clothes and as nice and domestic as the thoughts were, they quickly got dirty. In each scenario, he'd take whatever you had in your hands and set them aside before pulling you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your lips that would quickly get heated.

In the kitchen, he would have set you on the counter as he tore off your clothes, fucking into you roughly and in the living room, where you did your laundry, he would toss the clothes you were holding across the room and take you right there on the couch.

Your brain was becoming mush as all you could think about every second of every day was Eddie and all of the things he would do to you. It was driving you crazy to the point where you had been using your vibrator every night after work, needing to let everything out.

And Eddie did the same, taking a shower every night just to get some alone time to get out all of his urges. And this time was no different. Even though Christopher was at school, he still jumped into the shower, deciding to kill two birds because he needed to calm himself down and also needed to get clean.

He quickly stripped and got under the water, letting it beat down on him as he looked down at his cock, seeing that it was even harder than he thought. He wrapped his hand around the base and began to pump, letting his mind wander to you like usual, feel pathetic for wishing that you were the one to get him off.

Cum leaked from his cock as his movements picked up, an orgasm ripping through him as he pressed himself against the wall to come down from it. His breathing was becoming labored and he tried his best to catch it before pushing himself into the water to let it wash away the cum and the thoughts of you as he continued his shower.

He then finished up his shower, washing away the day, the sweat that had clung to his body from the hard work he had done on the many calls that he and the 118 had taken. But there you were, in the corner of his mind. You were dressed in that white dress he loved you in, the one that made you so angelic.

You were making your way towards him, taking him into your arms and placing a kiss to his lips. And before he knew it, you were on your knees, unbuttoning his pants and removing them along with his underwear. You then took him into your mouth, sucking him off as you looked into his eyes. God, he couldn't go a single second without having a filthy thought about you, could he?

After his shower, he made his way to his room to get dressed and do a much needed google search to see how he could get you out of his head. Just as he got to his room, there was a knock on the door. You flashed in his head, but he quickly shook his head. Why would you be at the door? God, he really needed to forget about you. It would never happen and he had to remind himself of that.

Without a thought, he slowly made his way to the door, ripping it open with the intention of telling whoever it was to fuck off so he could have some peace. His eyes widened when they fell on you. You were in that dress that always made him weak in the knees and you really did look like an angel. Now he was hallucinating you?

That would have been the only reasonable explanation considering that there didn't seem to be a reason why you would be on his doorstep. Whoever was there had morphed into you. And you looked so real. Almost as if he could reach out and-

You stared at him, eyes widening at the fact that he was only wearing a towel. He was soaking wet, clearly having just gotten out of the shower and that was doing nothing for your fantasies. The water was dripping from every single part of his body and you found yourself wanting to lick it off.

"I'm so sorry to bother you," you said. You didn't even know what you were doing there. Your feet had gained a mind of their own, walking across the street and you were knocking on his door before your mind could catch up to what you were doing.

"Oh, it's no bother," Eddie shook his head, a sweet smile making its way upon his face. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, no," you shook your head. "I don't even know what I'm doing here," you let out a nervous chuckle, suddenly feeling flustered. You wanted to leave, but your feet were unable to move from the spot where they were planted.

Your eyes dragged down his body, wondering what you had done in your past life to have gotten lucky enough to be in this position. His eyes followed yours and he could see the way your were looking at him, like you wanted to do exactly what he wanted to do to you.

Your eyes were glazing with lust and Eddie quickly ushered you in before any of your neighbors could see his hard on. He then told you to take a see before hurrying to his room to do the quickest change of his life. Once he was dressed, he emerged from his room, trying to act calm, but on the inside, he was freaking the fuck out.

The most beautiful women was in his house and he was pretty sure that she wanted to sleep with him. Not that he was going to assume. If it was true, he was going to let you take the reins, not wanting to overstep or making you uncomfortable.

"Would you like a drink or I think I have a few snacks if you're hungry?" He asked, trying his hardest to be a good host even though all he wanted to do was sit next to you and run his hands up your dress, hoping that your skin felt as soft as it looked.

"I'm fine, thank you," you told him before patting the empty cushion ext to you. He immediately sat down and you scooted closer to him, closing the space between you, your thigh pressing against his.

You could see his eyes moving down to your thighs and without another thought, you took his hands and placed them directly where he had been looking. His eyes widened as he looked up at you, but then they narrowed, eyeing you suspiciously.

His hands slid up your and you liked how rough yet soft they were. His eyes looked into yours the entire time, gauging the situation and you looked more than eager, a flirty look in your eyes.

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, a lingering one, your mouths closed. And then you pulled away once you realized what you were doing. You looked into his warm brown eyes, bringing your hand up to your lips, your eyes widening as you did so.

You stood up from the couch, fully prepared to leave and avoid him for the rest of your life as long as the both of you lived across the street from each other. You had good thing going, being all neighborly, and now you could never make eye contact with him every again.

Before you could get to the door, though, Eddie grabbed hold of your wrist and turned you around to face him. He then took your face in his hand and pressed his lips to yours in a messy, rushed kiss. He pulled you away from the door, backing up to the couch. He sat down and brought you with him, causing you to straddle his waist.

"I don't normally do this," you said against his lips and he felt proud of himself that he was the one you were doing it with.

"Me neither," he replied as his tongue swirled around yours and you let out a moan in response. You began to grind against him, feeling his rock hard cock against you.

"Need me to take care of you?" You asked, pulling away from him and all he could do was nod, his pupils blowing wide. You slowly got off of him and then unbuttoned his pants before pulling them down, followed by his underwear, his cock springing free.

you spit into your hand and grabbed hold of the bases, moving your hand up and down slowly. You kept your eyes on him, wanting to see his reaction as you got him off. His hands grabbed hold of the couch cushions, bunching it up with his fingers as his head leaned against the back of the couch.

His eyes shuttered closed and he let out a moan as you continued, picking up your pace as you could see he was already close. You watched him come completely undone, another moan falling from his lips. He was so fucking hot that you couldn't comprehend it. Seeing him like that was definitely going to live rent free in your head, making you want to do this to him whenever you got the chance.

"Fuck, oh my god," he moaned as he reached his peak, gripping as the couch cushions so much so that his knuckles were white. He was seeing stars and there was no way he could ever get himself off again with how quickly you were able to.

When he had come down from his orgasm, you took him into your mouth, starting at the tip as you swirled your tongue around it. You then began to suck, causing Eddie to let out a shuddering breath and your eyes flicked back to him to watched him cum again, loving the way you were able to make him come undone with just your mouth.

Your hand wrapped around the base once again as you continued to lick and suck, eliciting moan after moan from him. You then removed your hand, trying your best to take more of him as you let your tongue move up and down the under side of his cock.

You grabbed onto his hips as you took him all in your mouth, feeling your eyes water as you did so. You watched Eddie gasped as he watched you, his eyes flying open as he watched your lips wrap around the base.

"F-fuck," he moaned. "Oh my god." You watched his back arch as you felt his cum leaking onto the back of your tongue as another orgasm rolled through him. You then removed him from your mouth and looked him in the eyes as you swallowed, wiping the drool from your lips as you did so.

He was just about to have his way with you when his alarm went off, letting him know that he had to go pick up Christopher. He was quick to pull on his underwear and jeans before standing up. He grabbed his keys from the coffee table and grabbed you by the hand, pulling you along as he made his way to the front door.

"I'll come over tonight and we can pick up where we left off, okay?" He asked and you nodded, letting him press a kiss to your lips before you both exited the house, Eddie getting into his truck and you heading back to your house, counting down the hours until Eddie came to knock on your door.

[rosielovesspence]

~Admiring From Afar~

Content Warning: nothing just a shit ton of fluff, Ethan is obsessed with you.

Ethan had stood in place waiting for you to come out of class. It wasn't creepy, he was just admiring you, plus you had the same next class. Although you probably didn't notice that, or him, at all for that matter. He wasn't mad about it, just more so wished you'd dream about him the way he dreamed about you. But usually, he realized, your focus was less on boys and more on your friends and fixing your lip gloss, oh and your grades.

Which was surprising, not to him, but to other people who didn't really think you could get good grades. Most people downplay how smart you are when really you have straight A's, in everything but Econ. He realizes you walked out of your class. That was the only class you didn't share. He walked, slightly behind you to Econ, your smell wavering around his head.

You sat down in your seat as he sat behind you. Ethan liked sitting behind you, he got your smell wafting into his face, that fruity shampoo of yours and your cute little perfume scent. He was quite good in economics even when he could only focus on the way you pushed your hair behind your ear every few minutes. He thought about pushing it behind your hair himself, his hand falling down to cup your face as he gave you a soft kiss, your face erupting into a red color. His face erupted into red instead when he realized his thoughts had wondered.

You had stood at the teacher's desk after class as Ethan slowly put his stuff away, hoping to walk with you to your next class, even if you didn't know he was doing so. "Oh good Ethan, I have a favor to ask if you" Ethan looked up at the teacher's voice, seeing your flushed face next to her. "Could you help Ms.Y/n with some work?" Was she serious? There was no way. "O-of course" you smiled, relieved he would help you. "H-hey we have the next class together if you wanna walk together and exchange numbers for studying?" Ethan tried, he really tried to get his voice not to waver, but talking directly to you was crazy. Especially when you smiled and took his offer to walk together.

He was more than confused when you grabbed his arm once he stopped walking. "Huh?" You smiled, "Well you stopped, so I was making sure you weren't skipping." He smiled, "N-no. Of course not." And he followed you into class, where you smiled before sitting down in front of him. He tried to focus on his work but when the small paper hit his desk he couldn't he had to open it. 'Xxx-xxx-xxxx My phone number so we can stud together <3' He knew your intentions were nothing of romantics but still his face flushed as he put the paper in his pocket, the one that had your number.

When class was over you had gotten up like you usually did and saw your friend in the hallway but this time you smiled at him before leaving class, gracing him with your presence for just a second before you slipped out of class, speaking to your friends in the hall.

Of course he had texted you to assure you that he had indeed gotten the paper you threw behind you. You facetimed for a couple of hours to study together in a way before you got tired and told Ethan goodnight. The next day it was the usual, him seeing you in economics except you had gone into class earlier than usual, with your friend Tara. You spoke to Tara at her desk for a while and Ethan who sat at his desk heard his name. Looking up for a moment before looking back down at the desk in front of him to make it look like he wasn't listening. "Oh Ethan? He's cool, kind of nerdy to be honest. He helped me study last night which is really sweet knowing I suck at economics." Ethan looked up to see the smirk on your friend's face. "Come on Y/n, you know you like nerdy guys."

His face flushed as he watched your own. "I don't like him...I don't really know him yet. Just a little bit." Tara grinned, "His favorite color?" You responded without hesitation. "I know he has blue a lot so I'm guessing that's his color." He stared in shock, you studies his color? Yeah that was a weird thing but at the same time the fact that you focused on something small like that was mind-blowing. "Favorite television show?" "He talked about Star Wars a lot last night" Your friend giggled, "Hey, that's close to Doctor Who, maybe you guys are meant to be a couple."

You sat at your desk as the bell rang, not paying notice to Ethan and he felt himself frown. He turned to Tara who stared at him with a grin, as if she could read his mind. He stared down at his economic papers and focused on his work. At lunch he sat at his usual table near yours and watched you speak to your friends. Tara was whispering something in this other girl's ear, Ethan knew her as Mindy, though he could be wrong. She giggled and her twin brother sat down, now her brother he actually knew, it was his 'friend' Chad. He didn't really know if they were friends or not but he'd like to say they were, then Chad waved to him. Okay, he waved back, no problem. Then Chad called him over and you turned to look at him.

Ethan's face flushed as you smiled his way, he awkwardly got up and shuffled over to the table, "What's up Chad?" You smiled, "dude sit with us!" Chad grinned as you wrapped your arm around Ethan's sleeve, pulling him down to sit next to you. "What's up?" You smiled, but his heart felt like it was beating out of it's chest. "N-not much, you?" The rest of the group had gotten lost in their own conversation while you made one with Ethan. "Nothing much, I was just reading." He smiled, he knew you liked to read, most books he saw you read however were horror novels. "Horror novel?" You smiled, "How'd you know?" "O-oh, you know, you just read horror novels a lot...I've noticed, like out of the blue, I haven't been like paying that close attention to you or anything like that." You giggled quietly as he scolded himself. He smiled, however, when he heard the heavenly sound of your laugh. "That's funny. Don't worry, I know you're not stalking me." You teased as you picked up your book.

Ethan had gotten used to your daily routine of starting a call on your desk and then moving to your bed when you 'got too tired to focus on economics'. Once you got all cozy in your bed you and Ethan just talked about whatever interest came to your head, he loved it, hearing you talk about crazy stupid things like your love for Doctor Who, Star Wars, and a bunch of kids shows. Why your favorite bands were the best, you would argue it even when Ethan agreed, he believes it was just your way of assuring the information is correct. He honestly didn't care why you did it, he just enjoyed you did, it kept you talking longer. Once or twice you had actually fallen asleep on a call with Ethan, your phone, propped up wherever you put it, displaying the beauty that was your comfort of pillow and blankets as you slept, he even feel asleep with you a few times. He wondered how warm those blankets would be, with your arms wrapped lazily around him as you snuggled into his side for the night.

One time you guys had even had a movie night, watching your favorite episodes of Doctor Who and his favorite Star Wars movies. Somehow you had both fallen asleep and although it wasn't your bundle of blankets on your bed, he revelled in the feeling of you cuddled up against him, your arm lazily strewn over top of his. He swore he could admire that sight forever.

It was always weird to have you speak to him in school, until he got butterflies remembering he wasn't dreaming. It was especially weird when you pulled him aside at lunch, "Hi." You awkwardly whispered. "Hi" Ethan chuckled as he replied. "So-...uhmm-..." He smiled, "So um?" "I really like you Ethan. Like a lot." He was stunned as you stared at your feet, waiting for a response. "Serious?" You looked back up, face red and eyes watery from embarrassment. "Yeah." A huge grin spread across Ethan's features as he let his hand fall into your own. "I really like you too. Like a lot." you laughed quietly as he left a small kiss on your cheek, before you both went back to see the group.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lovely @b0nes-phobic though of a prompt, being Ethan being obsessed with reader and admiring them.

[chronicbeans]

What do you think puppeteer wally would do if puppet y/n suddenly turned human?

Oh boy, he's going to go crazy. Let's go!

Puppeteer Wally if Puppet Reader turned Human:

TW: Obsessive and Possessive Behavior, Controlling Behavior, Delusions/Overly High Expectations, Perfectionism, Overprotective Behavior

He's over the moon with excitement! His (Y/N)? Human?! Now they can really be together, as in, he can take you outside and show you off! As a puppet, he couldn't really take you outside. If he did, you would have to act limp and lifeless. After all, what would the average person think of a puppet that moves and talks on its own? They'd probably scream "Haunted puppet! Creepy doll! Monstrous creature!" It just never felt right to take you out on a "date" at the mall or a restaurant, only for you to not be able to do anything.

Now that you are human, however, he can take you on those dates! It'll be just like his fantasies! Candlelit dinners, shopping sprees (he'll be sure to carry all the bags, no matter how many or how heavy they are), walks under the moonlight... Yes, exactly like his fantasies!

If you happen to look any different than your puppet form, such as (S/C) skin instead of say... the (F/C) felt that made up your puppet form's skin tone, he wouldn't mind. In fact, he finds it even more adorable than before! Your appearance in this human form, he tells himself, is simply the true you! The true culmination of every value you embody. The kindness, acceptance, patience, generosity... This human form is the true form of you, since you are those things... It may sound confusing when said aloud or written down, but to Wally, his complex thought process behind this belief makes complete sense. If anybody doesn't understand it, they simply don't have the open mind to do so. If you don't understand it, it's because you shouldn't worry your pretty little head over it.

He's been wanting to take you out somewhere for a long time, now. He hated seeing you so sad and upset in his home, looking outside with such longing. He's also terrified of the fact that, once he does take you outside, there is a chance you will run away. So, it'll take a while before he finally decides to bring you somewhere, mainly because he makes sure to plan everything ahead of time. There will be no escaping from him during this little outing. He's planned for every situation he can think of.

Another side effect of him longing to take you out is that he wants it to be perfect. It must be exactly like his imagination - with a few exceptions, of course. He may make sure that the entirety of a candlelit dinner goes exactly like his fantasies, but if you don't want to have the romantic kiss at the end, like he always imagined you would, he won't make you. He may be a bit... Unhealthy to be in this "relationship" with, but he has strong boundaries regarding physical affection. Forcing hugs and cuddles is completely fine, and he does it rather often. Anything beyond that, though? He would never dream of it! He won't even kiss you on the cheek if you say you don't want him to.

Cuddling with you as a human, is 20× better than you as a puppet, in his opinion. While puppet you may be soft and plush, human you is equally as soft, trading plushness for warmth! He also gets to listen to your relaxing heartbeat. It really grounds him whenever he gets overstimulated from work, anxiety, or even his own emotions for you. Sometimes his head and heart are filled with so many thoughts and emotions about how much he loves you, he can't put them into words, causing him to get overstimulated- which then results in an instant cuddle session that lasts two hours. Beats when you were a puppet, where he would sometimes forget that you are sentient and shake you like a plush toy, which he did before you came to life.

Speaking of puppet you... he would still want to control you, in some ways. One of his best (read: unhealthy but it worked miracles for him) coping mechanisms for fears that you would leave him would be puppeteering you to tell him exactly what he wants to hear. If he thought that you hated him and wanted to leave, he'd simply have you say "Oh, I love you, Wally! Why would I even think of leaving?" He can't exactly do that, now that you are human... So, he has gone to try to control as much as he still can.

What you eat, what you are allowed to do, what you watch... As much as he can. Much like his boundaries on affection, however, he has some strong ones here. Anything he views as being creative and expressive will always be allowed!

Cooking is creative. You can cook whatever you want, as long as he watches to make sure you don't hurt yourself. He already controls what's in the fridge and cabinets, anyway, so he is still controlling what is being eaten. He'll even eat whatever you make, complimenting it and giving you advice on how to improve.

Drawing, painting, and writing are creative. That's happily allowed, as long as he can see the drawings and paintings you make. He's... tried to read what you write, but has realized how defensive people can get over it. Especially if you decide to write a diary or journal. He'd rather not have you crying and screaming at him, again, so he'll let you show him when you are ready.

Finally, fashion is considered creative. He won't control what you wear. The only exception is when he wants to play dress up. He'll go out and buy a bunch of clothing for you, then have you try them on. Even then, though, he tries to buy things that he thinks you will like, based on things you've liked previously, things you've looked at in the store or online, and what you wore in the show. He also sees playing dress up not as forcing you to wear different clothes or to change your creative expression, but as providing more options and opportunities to expand your style and expression. He also hopes it helps you adjust to the human world, as you and Julie played dress up a lot in the shows and books.

Overall, he will become a bit more lenient in certain ways, but it is cancelled out by how he becomes more strict in others. As a puppet, you didn't eat or drink, so he didn't have to worry about that. Now, he does need to worry, so he tries to control it. However, he is now letting you go outside with him, and even buys you whatever you want as long as he doesn't see it as something that can help you escape. He doesn't worry as much about you hurting yourself around the house, due to you now being a human. As a puppet, not only could you get ripped, you simply getting wet could cause damage, as well as the possibility of you getting stained. As a human, you are safe from that, but he will now be constantly fussing over the possibility of you getting sick.

You being human will simply cause his controlling, possessive, and overprotective behaviors to switch and evolve to work for a human instead of a puppet. Wanting things to go as he fantasizes about still happened when you were a puppet, but they only involved activities around the house. He's just... adapted to the situation.

[september-i]

THE SERIES

: THOUSAND YEARS

Gun Park x Fem!Reader

ㅤㅤㅤㅤPart 1

ㅤ " Remember me "

A/N : I didn't know that the Progolue would get this much likes, thank you sm! I'm actually surprised 😭 but as promised here the part 1 that you guys are waiting for!

And yes english is not my first language. I'll be telling you guys the same thing til chapter 4 or 5 HAHA

Gun is a bit ooc sry.

—

Is was a bit weird for a foreigner from Japan to move in to South Korea, but you did it anyway.

Thankful for your childhood friend, who has taught you some Korea when you told him that you wanted to go there someday.

But sadly all the memories of him fades away when you were recovering in the hospital for 3 months.

You did tries to ask your parents about the young boy, but they know nothing about him. The only thing they told you was that he was dangerous, and you should stay away from him.

That, make you want to meet the boy more.

It's been 5 years now, since you now to South Korea all by yourself, but of course your parents often sent you some money for you. They were worried, but they wouldn't stop you from your dreams.

Surprisingly you got in one of the fashion school that you wanted. You also got a part time job easily, a cashier in the small convenient store not too far from your school.

The boss there was a bit creepy but you didn't think it's was a problem at first.

Now, let's focus on the present shall we?

You were walking back to your apartment while talking to the young man Daniel. He dumped into you one day in the library and when he was about to apologize, you speaks up the apologies first and quickly got on your knees and help him with his books.

From that day on you became his personal tutor, you didn't mind being the tutor. You always have a kind heart and soul after all.

But today was different, since the moment you met that tall man who looks.. Familiar in some way. Naturally you would talk about your day and what you're going to make for dinner.

You ended up being quiet til' you stepped in your apartment. Daniel was worried but he knew he couldn't push you too much, so he just texted you to make sure you're ok.

And when you answer that everything was alright, he sighs in relief.

You don't really know why you chose to be a cashier at night shift but.. You did, so here you are, in your cashier outfit working at night.

It's was bored for most of the time

Until the door opened up and your eyes lit up in excitement. Finally a customer!

" Welco– " Oh.

It's him

Your words caught in your throat when the tall man look over to you. Even with his shade on you knew he was looking right into your eyes.

You quickly look away from embarrassment when he finally walk toward you.

" May I uh.. Help you? " You tried again, this time you force yourself to look up at him. But when he only respond with a low chuckle that slips from his mouth. You were about to speak again but then he open his mouth once more.

" You're as beautiful as the day I lost you " The man said.

And you freeze. Not before you felt your face heat up, not only from those sweet words but also how sexy it sound coming from him.

You quickly clear your throat and finally speak up.

" I'm sorry but.. You might get the wrong person " You let out a small laugh before you glance back to meet his eyes.

He's just.. Stared, and that stared make you nervous, maybe it could even make any woman knees weak.

But when he suddenly came up to you and grabbed your wrist without any warning, your body react on it own by slapping his face with your full force.

And then the silence filled the air.

Your eyes widened in shock from what you did. And his glasses were now on the ground. You were about to shout out an apologize before another chuckle left his mouth and his now revealed eyes meet with yours.

He finally got to see you clearly, not just from behind that stupid glasses he likes to wear so much.

And you. You knew you should be scared, you should runaway, but instead. You felt like those eyes we're drawing you in.

" S– Sorr–.. "

" It's okay " He said.

Gently letting go of your wrist before he crouches down grabbing his glasses, as his dark gaze glance up to you.

" I should have ask you properly " He said before walking towards you even more.

You stood there. Still trying to contain all your thoughts what just happened but then he handed you a black card.

Giving him a questioning like last time before he raised his eyebrow. You slowly grabbed the black card before you start to read it.

Gun Park

Yamazaki Yuzuru

XX-XXXX-XXXX

You're eyes widened before you shot your head up to ask him a question, but.

He was gone.

You sighs in disbelief, you didn't get to say sorry properly.

Well, now that you got his contacts you may as well try to say it to him properly through your phone? Yeah, maybe you could do that.

You simply kept the card in your pocket before she continues to do your night shift like usual.

But there's one problem.

You couldn't stop thinking about him.

You know it's weird, you just met him! How could you felt something like that for someone at first sight.

Yeah yeah, a lot of people might believe in love at first sight but you don't. You know there's something wrong. Something.. familiar.

After your night shift. You went back to your apartment and took a nice shower and making yourself a warm meal from your mother recipes.

Card in your hand, and your phone in the other. You have been staring at your phone for the last 30 minutes now. You don't know why you were scared but you are.

And finally! You called him.

...

...

...

" Hello ? "

" H–Hi! It's uh.. " You said your name.

Your heart were beating so fast you thought you were going to fast out.

When you didn't heard any answer, you try calling his name.

" Sorry, I didn't think you would call " and gosh.. The way you say his name. He could felt his heart skipped a beat.

" Oh– sorry, am I interrupting anything? " You asked, worried that you might call in the wrong timing.

But when he said that it's was okay, you simply sighs in relief.

The night went on by you and him. Gun. Talk all about the things that you wanted to know.

Even though he wanted to tell you everything he remember. All those memories that you guys made together in your childhood days. He couldn't. Maybe letting you find out by yourself might be the right way.

So, he lied. He lied about how you look like his childhood friend that he lost. He lied about everything he could, not wanting to make you feel any guilt for what happened 6 years ago.

And you believe him, even if you didn't want to. But you did.

Eventually it got late and you forgot about your school for tomorrow, you quickly glance at your alarm clock on your desk.

" AH! I have school tomorrow! Uh- I uh.. See you later? " You said, feeling a bit bad for leaving him in the middle of the conversation.

But when you hear him chuckle and slightly giving you a confirmation that it's was ok and you should get rest.

You chuckle softly before thanking him.

As you were about to press the disconnect button. His voice murmurs out.

" Would you like to have dinner together? Tomorrow? "

Your eyes widened as your face heat up from just thinking. This gorgeous man is asking you out?!

" S–Sure " You said. " What time? "

" I'll pick you up after school "

Oh yeah. He knew what school you were in, you forgot about that.

You gave him your last confirm that you accept his date. And finally hitting that disconnect button. Laying your head and your body down on the soft mattress, gently closing your eyes. And doze off immediately.

You couldn't wait for your date night tomorrow.

( AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY BATTERY IN AT 5% WHILE WRITING THE LAST PART NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO )