#not actually serious things or god forbid mean things

[jellynotbees]

I’m very impulsive and tend to not entirely think through things before I say them when I’m comfortable so I end up saying WILDLY unhinged things to my sister @kitkatgoesmeow very regularly

She has a quote list of wild and/or out of context things I’ve said that is over 330 entries long atp

[talkorsomething]

want to cut my hair again like you wouldn't believe. What are the possible consequences of going bald

[arkangelo-7]

I bet the JL has a “how fucked are we” metric that’s literally just how many of Bruce’s kids are there.

Like if he pulls up to the alien invasion or whatever with just Robin, then everything’s fine. More than fine, actually, because Bruce feels comfortable enough to bring his eight year old along for the ride. This battle will take approximately fifteen minutes and they’ll all get shawarma after. Not fucked in the slightest.

But if Red Robin shows up too… hmm, okay, this is getting somewhat serious. Tim is one of Bruce’s most trusted partners; he’s the smart Robin, the tactician, the loyal one, and so if Batman brought him along then it means he’s at least a little bit worried about shit hitting the fan and wants one his advisors around. But the combined brain power of Bruce and Tim is pretty much unmatched (DC plot armor for the win), so everything will be fine, basically. Superman might take a hit, but everything’s going to be fine. Just keep calm and you’ll all make it home in time to Door Dash some Panda Express before it closes. So not that fucked.

It starts to get serious after that. When Signal and Spoiler roll up the scene, shit has definitely hit the fan. Batman’s worried enough to call in reinforcements and he’s probably doubting the League’s ability to listen/obey his orders, so he needs a backup plan in case things go really south. But with Signal’s abilities and Steph’s superpower of turning anything into a joke, chances are you’ll be okay. Maybe impaled or something, but okay. But still, fucked.

When Nightwing shows, the JL knows it’s starting to get dicey out on the field. See, Nightwing’s got his own team, his own issues—the fact that he set that all aside to help out his dad is cause for concern. On a scale from 1-10, they are at a 7. Above moderately fucked.

And… oh God. Black Bat? Most of the time the JL doesn’t even see her, but once she makes herself known and starts fighting alongside her siblings, they all start to silently freak out. Black Bat is a fucking machine and if she’s breaking a sweat trying to fight the Big Bad, things are definitely not going to go well. They start praying that Batman figures something out. They freak out. They are intrinsically fucked.

But God Forbid you catch sight of the Red Hood. The prodigal son is a legitimate killer, and if Batman’s letting him blow out brains then the JL knows he’s desperate. And a desperate Batman is not good. At all. They are definitely fucked.

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[struwberrii]

oikawa headcannons ˚⊱🪷⊰˚

i <3 tooru oikawa

begs you to come to practice with him (he always shows off when you’re there and iwa calls him out on it quick)

has a stupid embarrassing contact name for you (like pookie bear or something but he’s 100% serious about it)

whenever he finds out something like when he was analyzing the karasuno technique he comes to you so excited to tell you all about it

sassy man apocalypse final boss

he has the most complex skincare routine that his big sister introduced him to

he used to use his sisters perfume when he didn’t have cologne on him so he would jusy smell like champagne toast from bath and body works (his team also made fun of him for it)

always smells sweet (like bakery items)

his voice when he speaks spanish is like 3 octaves deeper than usual

secretly loves brat by charli xcx

wears his skincare headband with a bow on it around the house

one time he opened the door for iwa with it on and now that’s his contact picture on iwas phone

he has perfect handwriting

gets so mean on roblox, like he genuinely sees red when he’s arguing with little kids

studies in coffee shops and tries to look mysterious

is really good at solving rubix cubes and puzzles for some reason

randomly picks you up and carries you on his shoulder for no reason

like hell just be walking around talking to people and doing stuff with you on his shoulder

if you guys fight really bad he’ll say the most hurtful things with a smile on his face and then gaslight you later into thinking he never said that

candy crush veteran (he’s been playing since it came out he’s on a higher level than your grandma)

waits for golden hour and sets his phone up to take his selfies

his hair is actually so soft like it’s unreal

loves coming up behind you and hugging you and just staying there for a while

genuinely cries if you praise him

makes tiktok grwm videos

type of guy to go and get his eyebrows threaded

he builds the minecraft house while you go find iron (YOURE A MAN!!!! OFF TO THE MINES!!!)

there is not a single bad picture of him out there like even if he’s caught off guard he looks perfect

never breaks out or anything like always has perfect skin

he’s the biggest drama queen, like god forbid he gets a cold the world would literally end

he has my melody house slippers

he has a lava lamp in his room that he’s had for like 5 years

loves fruit, like strawberries are the key to his heart

buys you drinks from the vending machine if you come to practice

sings in the shower really loud

has like 5 pairs of converse

sleeps with every stuffed animal you’ve given him

secretly listens to megan the stallion when he’s working out

d1 complainer, hes always whining about something

someone just tell him everything’s gonna be ok

[yameoto]

Haiii can you pls write a fic abt being rude to jordan all day which causes them to take their anger out on the reader at the end of the day and they’re just being really aggressive and manhandling?

FRUSTRATION. JORDAN LI.

✗ warnings ; dom!jordan, sub!reader, rough sex, dry humping, orgasm denial, brat taming. not proof read. wc ; 1.2k

THE last straw is the coffee. the fucking coffee.

the sick thing is that this time, you didn't even mean it. sure, your relationship was on pause. sure, you two had been exchanging barbed quips and jibes back and forth for the worse part of two weeks.

(there wasn't even a point to it, anymore—devolving into the most inane, stupid game of chicken; who can piss the other off more? but jordan is nothing but competitive — and you'd be damned if you let them show you up.)

but this time? you swore you were minding your business. like actual, cross your heart, hope to die—stick a cupcake in your eye. unfortunately for you, grade-school promises don't exactly stick up too well when you're standing in the middle of your dorm room doorframe; foaming, hot latte sopping into your favourite jacket. and bag. oops.

"are you fucking serious?" jordan's scowl is black, arms immediately flying out to shake their sleeves, to no avail. your mouth is already open — granted, not to apologise, but it doesn't matter much anyways when all of a sudden two hands are on your torso and you're being thrust onto a bed. you’re not exactly proud of the startled yelp that peels out of you, but fuck— jordan looks.. really fucking hot.

"you get off from pissing me off, or something?" jordan grunts, eyes flaring. there are the faintest hints of bags under their eyes, and a note of tension in their voice you've never heard before. you've clearly caught them at a bad time—even in the depths of this cold war between the two of you, they've never seemed this pissed — just.. mildly irritated.

"only sometimes." you snip back, instead, squirming as their hands dig into your shoulder. it's the wrong answer.

"no." jordan hisses, hand moving up to grip your jaw with a harsh squeeze. "no, no, no. none of that." they lean in, and abruptly you feel your heart jump to your throat; tensing at the indecipherable leer to their tone.

"here's what's gonna happen, baby," the endearment comes out a derisive snarl as their hand swallows your thigh, hiking your leg up and yanking you into a straddle over their leg.

"you're gonna hump my fucking thigh," jordan growls, edging in close, breath hot against your neck as if they're about to rip your throat out. "and you're gonna scream my name like a fucking banshee, got it?" they murmur, and you inhale, jaw slack at the sheer level of cruelty in their voice, and the unmistakable spike of heat that throbs your core.

unimpressed by your silence, jordan's hand constricts around the base of your neck, squeezing. "i said, got it?" they hiss, patience running thin, and you grunt—nails digging into your palms to restrain a wince, or god forbid—a whimper. "got it." you huff, annoyance forcing its way in your inflection as if you're not about to melt into a puddle all over their thigh. god, you've been waiting for this, waiting for this for so fucking long—a week without their touch has felt like a month without fucking water. not that you'd ever admit that, out loud.

a low, unreadable hum resounds from the back of jordan's throat. "well fucking hump, then, sweetheart." they say, voice low as their teeth nips against your skin. you take the hint—forgoing your pride and slowly beginning to grind against their leg, ache between your legs growing increasingly needy as you feed into its begging, pulsing throbs, little whines beginning to fall out of your mouth.

"i said fucking scream it," they hiss, lips latching onto your neck and sucking as your body begins to tremble, feeble whine releasing from your mouth, despite yourself. "i want everyone on the floor to know it's my fucking thigh you're rutting up against like a needy slut." they say, gaze hardening as you thrust yourself against them with a breathy moan, their tone alone making you course with need. "jordan—jordan, oh, fuck—" you gasp, hand fisting into the hem of their shirt.

"louder." jordan demands, a whisper. their fingers curl against your skin, hips bucking subtly at every mention of their name. you make a little noise of protest, but jordan's eyes flash— and you find yourself keening for their approval as you thrash in their lap, body trembling all over. "jordan—" you moan, back arching all while you grind urgently into their thigh, mind blanking. "jordan, jordan, jordan jordan—" the words spill in a shaky, hoarse slew of whines that fit perfectly around your lips, like their name was made for you. your body moves as mindless as your mouth, functioning only on one, single, primal, instinctual need.

jordan jordan jordan need need thigh fuck jordan fuck me fucking fuck me, already—

"i've felt like shit all week." jordan hisses, interrupting your highly intellectual thought process—though, they don't exactly look too cut up as you continue to hump their leg, eyes glassy and teary with want. you want more. you need more. you need them inside of you—"but you're gonna make it up to me, aren't you, doll?" jordan purrs, voice a rushed mumble as their hands dig into your waist. they forcibly jerk you forwards, wrenching your legs further apart so you're splayed across their groin instead of their thigh. this time, you can't help the audible whimper that leaves your throat. "then maybe i'll forgive you."

as if on cue, your pace speeds up with an excitable whine, burying your face under their chin. "please—more—" you force out, grasp on their hem tightening as you groan, loudly, hips bucking wildly against them. "need you— in me—" the words stumble out, shamelessly, barely comprehensible. jordan grins, and with dismay you realise they're shaking their head.

"oh, c'mon. you don't deserve it." they snort, and you whine at the sheer unjustness of it all. you were only mean for them for what? a week? a whole week of them not touching you, either—fuck, you need it—their fingers, their cock—anything to fill up the burning, pounding emptiness inside you, begging to be stuffed full. you open your mouth to protest, but jordan beats you to it. "you're gonna come on my fucking thigh, or you're not gonna come at all. okay, sweetheart?"

any potential complaints die in your throat, petering out to a dismal, shaky whine of defeat. you're still grinding furiously against them. frustrated grunts leave your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut, mattress quaking in time with your thrusts. you have no drive to win against them, anymore. all you wanna do is fucking come.

jordan's grip on you eases, bit by bit as you make a show of yourself — pants and whines spilling from you as you bury yourself deep into jordan's chest and just rut, like the useless thing you are. it's sad, it's needy, it's desperate; and the thing is you fucking can't— it's not enough. you need jordan. you need them.

the whimper that drifts from you even smaller than the ones before, and in an instant, your pants die— and you crumple into a breathless heap upon their chest. it still aches, dull throb between your legs left to pulse and groan out in need. you feel gross, and sticky, and sleepy. this is what you get, really, for thinking you could fuck around with jordan and get away with it.

"are you still mad at me?" you mumble into the crook of jordan's neck, fabric of their shirt still bunched up in your fists. "..jords..?" you mutter, and jordan smiles at the way your words slur, thighs still shaking, their pretty baby taught a lesson. "oh, doll." they grin, hand sliding along chest— your hipbone— the band of your underwear.

well. maybe there's still hope for you, yet.

[blackknight-kai]

This is gonna sound insane but HEAR ME OUT—

Have you ever heard of the term of a 'womb tattoo' (WT) ? It's basically like a tattoo/sigil that is placed over where the womb would be (on the skin itself) and it would have like, different spell properties depending on the type of tattoo/sigil that was inked

What if, WHAT IF— Sun Wukong knows the basic of WT magic and have been secretly planning to place one on his beloved? (With consent, of course)

I'd honestly think he'd enjoyed seeing how his beloved would look so flushed - sweat dribbling down their skin, their breaths short and quick and just how often they would palm at their lower abdomen; the tattoo/sigil from THE Sun Wukong himself is thrumming with want, with need for any speck of attention the simian demon would throw their way.

I'm so insane actually. Perhaps this year was a good year for monkeys all around

(I’m really tired and wrote this before sleep so I hope this came out okaaaaay)

You have an awesome idea here! Wukong wanting to share something like this with his beloved? Absolutely! This COULD go into yandere territory but I wont go there since it can ALSO go into consenting territory especially if reader is okay with it. Sun Wukong wouldn’t MAKE them get it but them being willing? Awesome.

N.S.F.W Under the cut - 2 parter in here :)

Wukong brings it up one night, at first it’s kinda playful but definitely devolves into a slightly serious conversation. I mean he doesnt wanna force you or make you uncomfortable. PLUS it’s not like it has to happen NOW. But he wants to make sure you know what youre getting into. Because this could be A LOT. Especially for someone attached to HIM.

When you do agree to it he’s going to be sooooo stoked and excited. Will definitely prepare what he can for it and then maybe set a day specifically for getting it on you. No matter how long the actual spell takes most likely he just wants to have some fun and make it a nice playful comfy thing, maybe he takes you apart bit by bit and then puts you back together before putting it on you while youre nice and relaxed. Or maybe in the middle of your orgasm he casts the spell?

Either way, you’re in for a ride after. See, the spell doesnt work for just ANYONE. Most womb spells seem to showcase that “any man” will do. Not for Wukong. Nope. He’s gonna make sure that the only way this thing reacts is because of HIM. Thing is, Wukong is pretty damn strong right? Powerful. So it’s only fair that his mark is as well. You’re going to be a MESS so often it’s not even funny. You KNEW he was attracted to you, duh you sleep together all the time, but to THIS extent?

Having HIS attention is NOT for the weak or someone who doesnt want to put up with his shit. Because as a King he has WANTS and he has DEMANDS. I’ve said it many times at this point, Sun Wukong DEMANDS your pleasure. It is HIS. His right, his privilege. He WILL get it.

It’s going to get to a point where you could be doing mundane things and then all of a sudden the mark is going off and youre practically bowled over by the sudden sensation. He’s off doing King stuff? Doesn’t matter. Good luck getting anything done that day because god forbid he’s bored at a celestial court meeting or something, he is going to fantasize about you through the entire thing making your mark go fucking nuts. You’re going to be dripping and trembling, sweating and struggling to stand for hours. Trying to touch yourself? Good luck, unless you pass out this isn’t gonna stop.

He’s watching you from across the room full of people? His eyes traveling up and down your body and taking in those curves and features he so loves? Your pussy is going to be woke the fuck up and when he smells your slick not only is he going to feel prideful about it, he’s going to make it so much worse. Thinking about all the filthy things he could do to you right there and now.

Wukong brushes his tail across your ass? It’s like little fireworks of pleasure are set off on your skin where it touched you, I hope you learn how to stop yourself from moaning on a dime because he was definitely thinking about something naughty when he did it and now your clenching around NOTHING but needing to be filled with him.

ALSO NEW THOUGHT (Lucky you LOL two thoughts for 1). Actually…..I hope you dont mind if I go that direction instead of an established relationship one….Cuz thats where this is taking me now.

General Properties

- [ ] Only reacts to Sun Wukong and NO other.

- [ ] Normally you’d have to be within a certain distance of the person for the tattoo to react to their dirty thoughts about you, but Wukong? AHAHAHA yeah. Dude could be off doing fuck knows what however far away and your tattoo will react to him thinking nasty things about you.

- [ ] Him looking at you with lustful eyes? Or maybe he brushes by you in a certain way? This is gonna set off the tattoo too.

- [ ] The tattoo can react in various levels depending on what HE has going on. Generally he likes you to simmer. Sweat a little. Edge you all day. Likes to remind you of him as you go about your day.

- [ ] The reaction is basically as if a low level vibrator is inside you, getting turned on higher and higher depending on what he’s doing/thinking and for how long. It’s gonna feel like a gentle massage of your clit along with it, not enough USUALLY to make you come but you are going to be FEELING it.

- [ ] Another fun thing, if he touches himself in a sexual way - Example strokes his cock, your pussy reacts as though hes fucking it. Hope you’re ready for THAT in the middle of a random Tuesday.

- [ ] A later addition to the mark will be where you cant orgasm without tasting or taking in his seed through your pussy. He’s gone for a few days and wants you to be panting and so damn needy for him when he comes home, as though youre heat.

While was writing this as an established relationship, I also had the thought of Reader being his bride to be - and consenting to get the mark. But they haven’t consummated the relationship since they aren’t married yet, and the effects and stuff I list out above would be AMAZING.

When you found out that you were going to be marrying someone you HADNT expected it to be THE Monkey King, Great Sage Equal To Heaven and Earth himself, Sun Wukong. You’d met him several times, each time was a pleasant experience. He was oddly charming, cheeky, and mischievous of course. You laughed at his little pranks and trickery, listened to his captivating stories. It seemed like when you guys were in the same space he would eventually seek you out, enjoying your company for a little while before one of his pranks caught up to him and he had to make a quick exit.

You found him VERY attractive in a lot of ways. Be it his handsome face and that roguish smirk he does or how intelligent he clearly is underneath all that arrogance. His strength and power is also something that captures your attention both physical and mental. While his temper could use some work at times you find him endearing. The fact that he takes his time to come over and say hi to you, make you laugh, and spend time with you, even asking about you makes you feel as though he see’s you. Since he doesnt generally bother with things like that too much from what you can tell.

You weren’t 100% certain but you thought he was flirting with you a lot of the time. Your cheeks turning red and his smile growing a little wider as though he’s pleased with himself at your reaction. Tension, or at least you HOPED it’s mutual, brews between you two every time youre in the same space. Sometimes, before he makes his way over to you, you can feel his eyes on you from across the way. Upon looking, there he is. Wukong will give you a little wave with either his hand or even his cheeky tail before returning to whatever conversation or thing he was doing, but those eyes of his will wander back periodically.

When the offer of marriage came well….you were a little shocked to say the least. The thing was, it wasn’t an immediate marriage but rather, he was to court you for a time with the intention of marriage at the end of it. You would essentially be his bride to be but with a brief period of time, about a year, where he would spend time with you and the two of you get to know each other more. Honestly, you thought it was something he would NEVER do. Between the stories about him or his wild nature. You figured either he would never ‘settle’ down or he’d marry right away, not wanting to go through the hassle when he would be marrying them anyway.

Accepting the offer was easy. Honestly, you were intrigued by him and definitely had a huge fat crush on him. After spending a few outings with him you come to realize you could absolutely fall in love with him too. A few months into the courtship the tension between the two of you is HIGH. There have been kisses, but Wukong always stops them before they get too heated. Light lingering touches but always in respectable places. It’s maddening. But from what he explained to you, he wanted to make sure the two of you matched well. That YOU know and understand him before fully committing to him, because as he’s said, once you’re his there wont be any going back. He hadnt said it in a menacing way or anything, but you can tell that he was serious. About you and this relationship, that for him, this is IT.

By your third month of courtship though Wukong springs something on you. He assures you that he can remove it if it’s something that becomes an issue or you decide not to move forward with the relationship.

A womb tattoo.

He allows you a little time to think about it, after covering all the specifics. You’re nervous at first, as you haven’t really had a sexual encounter with him as of yet. Not that you didn’t WANT to, but again he has been keeping things clean between the two of you aside from a few sexually charged flirtatious remarks sprinkled here or there. But regardless of wherever you are his eyes always tell you how much he wants you too. A lot of the time when you separate for the day you’re left wanting….fantasizing about what could he possibly be thinking about.

Eventually, you agree. Mainly because he doesnt pressure you about it. It’s almost like he never asked or brought it up. The way his eyes light up and he takes a moment to process your acceptance though tells you how genuinely excited he is about the idea. His tail swishes and flicks almost erratically behind him as he double checks with you before he sets a day for you two to begin the process for the tattoo.

You’d both decided to start easy, something simple. The tattoo itself, as he had explained, isnt ink and it wont show up unless he messes with the spell itself. But the spell will attach itself to your core and will ONLY react to HIM. This way, no other would accidentally activate it. Not wanting to overwhelm you at first, he sets the spell to only react when he’s looking at you with a lust full gaze. You’re nervous as he has you lie down, your clothes on but you do have to adjust them just enough to reveal your hips and the space your uterus sits under your skin. He hadnt wanted you to undress fully, this way he can enjoy you on your wedding night.

Wukong applies the spell and its a strange sensation, it doesnt hurt but its intense. When hes done he soothes you and tells you that you’ve done well. He tells you that the spell will activate by the time you see him next, this way your body has time to adjust to it.

You thought you were prepared. You were not.

The next time you see him you two aren’t alone but as his familiar eyes land on you, the hair on the back your neck stands up and then your body goes ridged as a tingling sensation starts up inside you body. It’s gentle, but it causes you to gasp and flush a little as your pelvic muscles contract at the sudden soft vibrating that is pulsing in your pussy. You KNOW nothing is in you, this must be the spells doing. You watch Wukong, having to lean over and support yourself with the back of a chair as his eyes roam up and down your body slowly. Once his eyes lock on to yours and he see’s your face he smirks wide and slow. His eye brow raises slowly though, a look of ‘Still okay?’ Comes across his expression and you nod a little shyly. Feeling embarrassed but also…excited. The tattoo isn’t overwhelming, more like a light gentle touch keeping you awake but not enough to make you desperate. At least at first.

This continues for a few weeks, the strange but pleasant buzzing sensation inside you whenever he’s around. It’s tantalizing and you find yourself desperate to return home and bring yourself to orgasm every time you end up spending hours with him. It’s almost constant in a way you weren’t prepared for but definitely dont mind. Especially when he knowingly teases you or leans in and whispers in your ear telling you how pretty your red cheeks are. Or asking you why youre squirming so much with a knowing grin on his face.

When he asks if he can adjust the spell, letting you know what additions he’d like to make, you agree. The little secret between the two of you is thrilling and you truly want to discover more with him. This time the additions will include if he’s thinking about you and if he touches you with intention. What he only hinted at though was how the intensity was going to increase. He also told you that he was leaving something up for a surprise.

After he adjusts the spell, that night when it finally settles, you gasp awake. Your body is sweaty and you’ve slicked up enough that your underwear is damp. The once soft tingling sensation is now an intense direct feeling. It’s not truly enough to make you orgasm but it’s enough to make you sweat and squirm. Your clit is swollen and your entrance pulses with need and you genuinely cannot stop yourself from immediately reaching down to bring yourself to ecstasy. From the feeling, this had been going on for some time before you woke. Meaning Wukong has been thinking about you. The thought makes you shiver with excitement and flattery. Happy that his thoughts are currently consumed with you.

From here it’s a little more difficult to remain passive. Sometimes you can be spending time with your friends or completing a chore for the day when the buzzing starts up. It makes you weak in the knees and you have to do your best not to react too much. When he’s around and watching you it’s even harder. You know he sees how warm you are, the sweat starting to bead on your skin, and the slight tremor you have every so often. Your speech is breathier too.

Wukong clearly enjoys seeing you like this. His tail always swishing and his face while usually showing a smirk sometimes remains stoic. But his eyes. His eyes watch you with such intense desire and pride that it makes you almost want to beg him to touch you. He seems to relish in the fact that he can make you so needy that you have to press on your abdomen or cross your legs tightly as you sit down. His kisses now are always a little more on the heated side, but he still never lets them get TOO heated. You can see in his expression as he pulls back that he is testing his own patience. He whispers to you how delicious you smell, that he can smell you from across the way and he cant wait to finally drink from its source after youre married.

One night, not too long after the new addition was added to the spell youre lying in bed, getting ready to sleep when that now familiar tingling starts up inside you. Since youre alone you relax back and allow yourself to sigh at the pleasant buzz. That is, until it feels like something thick and blunt is making its way inside you.

Your eyes widen and you gasp, arching your back and spreading your legs unconsciously as the invisible object slowly starts to thrust in and out of you. A little panicked you reach down and under your clothes, a moan forcing its way out of your throat at the continued stimulation. Your hole is empty and definitely NOT being stretched open by anything but your fingers. The ghost sensation of something inside you is so visceral, so real though, and your body jerks and thrums as the object moves faster, hitting inside you just a little rougher too. Your whole body comes alive and it feels like not just your clit and pussy are are pulsing with need, but so are your nipples and all the little pleasure spots on your body.

You cant catch your breath and involuntarily our hips move, chasing the ghost sensation as you touch yourself. You’re so wet that the slick sound of your fingers dipping inside you makes you shudder and you quickly realize that THIS was the surprise Wukong had added. How he’s making you feel this way you dont know, but you DO know he’s thinking about you, heavily. Your orgasm comes so suddenly that you cry out and clamp down on your own fingers. The blunt object doesnt stop moving though, fucking you through your orgasm until youre shaking and near tears. It seems to move faster and faster, losing its own rhythm until finally it slams in and then stills.

You lie there panting, body sweaty and your legs still trembling as you finally are allowed to come down from your high. The tingling slowly dissipates to a low gentle feeling until it’s gone. Leaving you oddly satisfied and definitely curious.

When you pluck up the courage to ask him about it, Wukong gives you the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen, his fangs on display. He first asks you if you liked it, which you nod with a little hesitation, mainly due to it being such a new thing. Your Monkey King then tells you that what you experienced was him fucking his fist while thinking about you. That as he touched himself your body was reacting accordingly, as though his cock was deep inside you instead of his hand.

The knowledge sets your body on fire and it sets his mind wondering too. You let out a little whimper as the tingling sensation comes back in full force, immediately ramping up your lust and desire. He reacts to your sounds and panting breath accordingly too, which doesnt help your situation. The kiss he gives you that day is the filthiest one you’ve received so far, and when you orgasm on nothing, not even a touch, Wukong looks at you like you’ve given him the stars & moon as a gift.

Your wedding day to him cant come any faster. Because while you enjoy this little secret game the two of you have been playing, enjoy feeling the ghost of his cock fuck into periodically when he cant contain himself and has to fuck his own fist….It’s not enough. You want to feel his warmth. Feel his claws digging into your skin as he pounds into you. His fangs marking you and his release filling you until he has nothing left.

- [ ] Once you guys get married this gets even worse (better). Especially with your permission of course, but he is going to fuck his fist when he KNOW’s youre doing things JUST so you have to try to fight to stay on your feet and not react.

- [ ] He’s going to be a major tease 24/7 since he doesnt ever stop thinking about you. Never stops wanting you.

- [ ] When he adds the addition about ‘can only come when you taste or receive his seed’??? Yeah good luck. Because he is going to edge the HELL out of you.

- [ ] He wont do it all the time dont worry, he does want to be inside you and fuck you just as much as he wants to watch you squirm for him.

- [ ] The cum thing though, let’s say hes been edging you for AGES. You’re in public and you NEED to orgasm. BADLY. You’re dripping and so fucking desperate for it. If he’s feeling nice (and you beg him so pretty for it), he will pull you to the side and maybe let you suckle his cock to taste his precum so you can orgasm finally. Or he will shove his hand down his pants and get it for you that way, sticking his wet fingers in your mouth since you’d gotten him so worked up. OR he will let you suck him off fully or will cum in your mouth, just the head of his dick past your lips while he strokes himself to you touching yourself.

- [ ] He may add or remove some stuff depending on what is too much or maybe you need a break - he’s good to you!

- [ ] If you’d like to experience a heat when he goes into a rut? Spell can take care of that.

- [ ] Extra fertility? He’s got you with the spell.

- [ ] Extra stamina or extra sensitivity? He can make that happen too.

- [ ] You being so turned on for him while he watches you squirm, waiting for you to reach your breaking point or begging point is something he will NEVER get tired of.

- [ ] You do have a safe word/phrase. This way, if you’re in public and he’s activating the spell around people, which he usually does because watching you and smelling you get so needy for him in secret is thrilling as fuck and turns him on, he doesn’t accidentally push you too far.

- [ ] That said, would he love watching you try to stifle an orgasm? Yeah. But only when he’s next to you so he can pull you into him and you can moan against him - your sounds muffled because those are FOR HIM.

- [ ] You boost his ego astronomically because of this spell, not only with your trust in him but because you WANT him just as much genuinely and not just because of the spell.

[elsweetheart]

crystal champagne glasses — bodyguard!abby au

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then you can sleep in the dark.”

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

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

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

“Atta girl.”

You clench your jaw.

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Where?”

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

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

“No thanks. I’m a big girl.”

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

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

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

“Uber.”

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

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

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

Ignoring her would start after the car journey you decided.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, no more. You’re blacked out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Headphones. Give them to me.”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am not a brat.”

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh.” She breathes, quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’nothing Abby. Just lemme—”

“Did I hurt you?”

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

“Then what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please show me.”

“Like that, good job.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So big.” You mewl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe you’d let her stick around.

[vickyzangels]

You do NSFW too right? If so could you do Tom going down on reader?

% “너와 천천히 오래 걷고 싶어 until the end of time.”

# synopsis ; redemption era?? resurrection era? idk🧍🏻‍♀️

# pairing ; tom kaulitz x reader

# word count ; 614

# warnings ; nsfw (mdni), recreational drug use, he’s pussywhipped, tom is a, what does ice spice call them? a munch.

a/n ; YALL….. i completely scrapped the fic i was working on like i hate to admit it but i couldn’t do it i scrapped it 😭 but at least i found out something important from it, that i am entirely incapable of having any plot, like i can do a blurb at BEST, but god forbid i put even a minor storyline in. i might go back to it one day when i’m that deep and far into the trenches but the a/n for that fic literally looks like this so…;

he can tie cherry stems with his tongue alone. no hands. gn.

kind of relates but kind of doesn’t anyway one of his favorite things to do while eating you out is fingering you (MY GODDDDD)

his calloused hands from guitar-playing are brushing up EVERY corner inside you, curling and making “come-hither” motions to reach that spot that has you squeezing your legs around his hands and yet he does NOT care, continuing up from your cunt to leave the most sweetest and innocent kisses and marks on your neck like he wasn’t hovering over you and abusing your g-spot till you squirted into his hand

on that topic, he LOVES squirters like he likes creamers too (he doesn’t discriminate), but he’s so into it like, god forbid he gets you to squirt (in which he always does) because he’ll happily come up soaked in your juices like a puppy

i’ve never mentioned this anywhere else but he’s 50/50 in bed with his attitude (that sounds so vague i’m sorry) and i mean that he is generally serious like he’ll fuck your brains out while sternly whispering in your ears about how much of a dirty slut you are HOWEVER, on the flip side of things he acts like he’s sooo damn funny 😐 like he’ll jokingly nip at you while going down on you (obviously lightly he doesn’t want to hurt you) and laugh when you look at him like 😧

he gets so weak if you sit on his face. his hands are wandering everywhere, spots on your hips where there are guaranteed to be bruises by tomorrow by how hard he’s holding you down onto him and his other hand going up to rub and hold your body while he groans into you because everytime his voice vibrates on you it makes you shiver🧎🏻‍♀️listen, tom has fuckboy experience he can keep going for ROUNDS before he decides to cum once but when you’re on top of him squeezing your thigh around his head, HE’S A GONER.

whether or not you smoke, you hypothetically do for this; tom’s such a slut for the way you taste the main reason why you ever get overstimulated when he eats you out is because you taste so good to him, so when you two smoked a blend that had flowers in it for calming effect, it doubled for an aphrodisiac and you had to pry him from your pussy.

about an hour ago, you and tom smoked blunts with a new blend you found from your dealer that only piqued your interest because she explained to you it also worked as an aphrodisiac. truth be told, that was the only thing you actually registered come out of her mouth cause you zoned out when she started talking, but knowing you and tom fucked like bunnies, you told her to take all your money and you were on your way. so now here you were, on your back with your legs over tom’s shoulders god near choking him to death (not that he was complaining), gasping moans into the air while your hand made its way to tom’s head, making weak efforts to push him away. “to- mm..! i can’t take it!” starting to writhe your hips, accidentally bucking further into tom’s mouth. he was pushing you and he knew it, pushing you towards your 4th orgasm and counting and he had no intention of stopping any time soon, especially not when whatever in that blunt was making you suddenly taste so much sweeter. not when whatever was in that blunt was making the music sensually slow down, or making your moans so honey smooth.

a/n ; last blurb’s dialogue was definitely… 😟 but all i know is that i’m leaving the longer fics to people like @arquiiva and omg i think i’m back? and i also watched astv so i’m adding that to the topic list in guidelines but yeah i’ll try not to leave out of no where again

© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.

taglist ; @cup1d-lix @imabitchh @arquiiva @verelace @iovemoonyy @everseve

[parkaplayboy]

main 4 + butters trying to court you HCs!

warnings: mentions of puking (stan), marijuana mention (stan) all characters are 18+ ! gender neutral reader !

Kenny McCormick

he's a nervous wreck.

when he flirts with people it usually just a one-time fling, nothing serious.

so when you pop into his life, he doesn't know what to do with himself

he's never felt this serious about anyone before

it almost angers him from the absolute chokehold you have this man in.

"I'm fucking Kenny McCormick! The original flirt! So why the hell can't I talk to them"

after every fumble he usually ends up in stan's room to sulk yet again.

stan finds it amusing to see him fumble so often

he tries so, so hard to maintain his usual air of confidence, but every time he talks to you he starts to flounder

"heyyyy, hot stuff.. you.. uh *cough* you come here often?"

it's kind of endearing to see the way he trips over his own feet to come over and talk to you

has actually face planted directly in front of you one more than one occasion

the boys rip on him ENDLESSLY for it.

he may not have much money, but what he lacks in funds he makes up in experience.

he will offer to tag along with you for even the most mundane tasks

"Ken, I'm just going to the hardware store." "What you meant to say is we are just going to the hardware store."

fiddles with the hem of his parka when he gets shy

god forbid you flirt with him. he CANNOT handle it

the poor boy damn near passed out the first time you kissed him.

Stan Marsh

for the most part he's level headed

until you fluster him too much.

the first time you flirted back he projectile vomited all over his own shoes.

he tries to make up for what he lacks in the words department with gifts.

if you smoke weed he will steal some from Randy's farm and give it to you

if that's not your thing, he will buy you trinkets and say "i saw this and thought of you"

he will invite you to band practice and not so subtly "serenade" you

kenny heckles him when he does this.

he will offer to teach you how to play guitar as an excuse to see you

when he finally decides to formally ask you out, it would most likely be when you guys are hanging out 1-1

he doesn't like grand gestures nor the pressure of other people in the room

Kyle Broflovski

hands down the most romantic out of the group

he'll buy you all the cliche romantic gifts

however he's not very good at flirting.. nor receiving compliments. not in person at least.

he gets flustered very easily

HOWEVER ! he found a loop hole :3

he may not be good at words when it comes to being face to face with you, but that doesn't mean he can't write down his thoughts.

which brings me to my next point !

he will leave letters for you to find!

kyle decorated the envelopes like a cliche anime confession note

eric has yet to let him live it down.

he's definitely big on grand gestures!

when he asks you out he'd do it in a romantic spot

the top of the ferris wheel, during your favorite band's concert, etc

he wants to do it big !

Eric Cartman

I hate to say it.

but he becomes more of an asshole than usual

but not in the mean way if that makes sense?

he just generally becomes a grade A nuisance

eric is definitely one of those guys that think teasing = flirting

he's not too big on gifts (besides snacks) but if he does get you something, he will try to make it seem like the smallest deal possible.

"yeah, yeah, whatever, it was on sale. don't cry over it or I'll take it back"

deep down really likes it when you get excited because it makes him feel like he did a good job

circling back to the snacks thing!

he truly views food as the sixth love language

he won't ask you directly, but he will try hard to figure out your favorite foods so he can buy/give them to you

first time he has you over for dinner he begs his mom to make your favorite meal

he sends you memes daily,

it gets to the point where he's basically just sending his entire fyp to you

speaking of which !

when he asks you out, he will use one of those shitty text block memes that say smth like "we should hold hands in the burger king parking lot"

(its also a self protection method because if you said no he could pretend it was just the meme)

Butters Stotch

this boy is too nervous to ask you out, i'm afraid

you will infact have to make the first move

however!

he's such a sweetheart

he will always walk you home

butters will offer his coat to you even if you have your own

"Butters for one, I have my own coat, for two its not even raini-" "You can never be too bundled up!"

like stan, he physically cannot handle affection.

he gets nose bleeds every time he gets flustered because he blushes like a tomato

he has to start carrying around a tiny pack of tissues when you two hang out

you MUST be direct with this man.

he will not pick up on the fact that you're flirting unless you spell it out to him

the first time you flirted with him was when you were hanging out with him and the main four guys.

you said something flirty right before they dropped you off but he didn't have a single clue

"Butters. what the hell was that?!" "Well wh'dya mean, eric?" "Did you seriously not pick up on the fact that they were flirting with you?" "Th-they WHAT??"

~~~~~

a/n: how obvious is it that kenny is my fav...

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Ascended Astarion has infected my brain. Especially when you try to break up with him as a spawn and he's just, "Aw, that's cute. No."

TW: It's Ascended Astarion doing Ascended Astarion things. Consent, kindness, or morality arent major factors in this man's life.

Personal headcanons for him, a mixture of you being spawn and not:

Twisted Protectiveness: You would think that becoming so powerful would have made him less afraid of losing you, right? Wrong. Because he is so very aware of the fact that you are his one and only weakness. If you ever died at the hands of someone else he would go insane, maybe even enough to do something drastic. If his darling couldn't live in this world, then what right did anyone else have? Keeping you safe means keeping him safe, and by extension, every mortal life in the realm.

Obsessive, Murderous Jealousy: Astarion loved you, he adored you, and he cared nothing of your past. Or at least...he used to not care. But ever since the ritual he had gotten a certain...itch. He didn't like knowing that other people had experienced the pleasure of your body. It was his. You were always his, even before he knew of you. It was fated in the stars. It bothers him enough to pick up a new hobby, tracking down every single one of your ex-lovers and butchering them. He keeps you in the dark of course, all of his questions about your past framed as curious inquiries, versus helpful hints for finding every last one of them.

Complete Control: In all honesty, despite his words and the harsh punishments he loves it when you try to defy him. Especially when you try to escape. It's never that serious, you're a good pet who just wants some alone time on occasion, always leaving with full intent to come back. But he can't help but think it's adorable when you actually think you've gotten away from him, even if it's just for a night. No, every time you've snuck away he's been there. He doesn't always intervene, sometimes he just likes to watch you interact from the shadows, see what you do without him. He especially loves it when he catches you talking about him, how sweet you remained despite the...changes in your relationship. But sometimes you would do something a little too rowdy, a little too dangerous, or god forbid flirtatious. Though you've gotten so much better about that, especially after Astarion gouged out the eyes of a man who had the nerve to ask you for a dance. In front of you. That certainly did the trick. But that didn't stop him from dragging you home when he thought that you had enough of a taste of "freedom" for one night, kicking and screaming if need be.

[williamvapespeare]

oops i wrote a Payneland first kiss ft. the aftermath of a probably horrible case, Charles being a little bit hysterical, and Edwin being a gentle little bitch Charles is happy to see him. He really, really is. He’s so chuffed it feels like his whole body is fizzing with energy and his head is pounding with something that might be pain or might be relief. And his grip on Edwin’s shoulders is only half meant to keep himself upright. It’s also because Edwin is properly, actually here in front of him, as solid as anything gets beneath Charles’ fingers these days. 

He doesn’t think he’s stopped grinning since Edwin hauled him upright. 

“Edwin,” he says, and can’t quite piece together anything better than, “you bloody genius!” 

And then Charles surges forward and kisses him. He’s aiming for Edwin’s cheek but he’s a little giddy and his eyesight is still a bit blurry and he ends up with his lips pressed to the corner of Edwin’s mouth. 

He feels more than he sees when Edwin startles at the contact, but doesn’t think he has it in him right now to pull back for a talk or a scolding or, god forbid, a lecture on impetuous behaviour. So, he tightens his hands around Edwin’s shoulders and tugs him in a little ways, until their foreheads are pressed together. Edwin blinks a few times and Charles feels his eyelashes flutter against his own cheek. 

“You did it!”. He can hardly believe the words as he speaks them and he keeps kind of laughing in little bursts of uncontrollable giggles. “I thought I was going to - that you were - I can’t even really -” 

Edwin, who has been relaxing against him by careful degrees, finally jolts into action and brings an arm up around Charles’ shoulders. 

“It’s alright,” he says, which Charles thinks is pretty thick for someone as smart as Edwin because of course he’s alright! Edwin just single-handedly swooped in and saved the day and dredged Charles up from the bottom of a literal and metaphorical hole and now he’s got his arm around Charles, close enough that each of his unnecessary breaths stirs the curls around Charles’ ear. He’s a lot fucking more than alright. 

Edwin’s hand starts to rub little circles between his shoulder blades. It feels nice.

“Mate,” he tries again. “You are…” but he doesn’t quite know what Edwin is other than the most important person in the world and, anyway, he can’t finish the sentence because Edwin cuts him off in a tone that Charles still thinks is far too serious for the situation. 

“Charles, you seem a touch, well.” A slight pause. “For lack of a better word, hysterical.” 

Is he hysterical? Charles doesn’t think so, but then again he’s never been great at thinking things through properly at the best of times. 

“Also, I must ask.” Charles’s eyes are only centimeters away from Edwin’s, and he watches Edwin squeeze his close. Eyelashes flutter together. “Did you mean to kiss me?”  

Charles blinks once.

“Uh,” he says. “Yeah, mate.” 

The hand on his back tightens, fingers gripping the fabric of his polo and that feels pretty good too, like Edwin is clinging to him with all the same desperation swirling up inside Charles. Like maybe he’s something solid even when he feels as insubstantial as ghosts can get. 

“Well,” Edwin says, finally, with a posh little sniff like he’s right fucking pleased with himself. “That is good to know.” 

Charles collapses against him, eventually, when he finally starts breathing steadier and the heavy weight of exhaustion settles over his shoulders. When the giddy adrenaline leaves him feeling a little more cracked open than he’d like. Edwin just gathers him close with the same possessive gesture as his hand. 

There’s a soft brush of lips against his temple. He smiles into the collar of Edwin’s coat and lets himself drift, warm and soft and held together

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for threatening to become a girl's step dad to troll her into blocking me and stop dragging me in a group chat ? Jenny (23F) blew up because I (24NB) said she'd be a shitty social worker bc of her specific autism symptoms + class bg. My gf (45F) said it was warranted because of how  overwhelmed i got by the wall of text with triggering details of my abuse. I never told my GF that the fight started because Jenny called me a gold digger. I also never mentioned that I ended it an hour later by posting pics of Jenny's mom in the chat, ignoring her ranting and discussing the vacancy left by her dead dad*, and how i could fill said vacancy. 😬😬😬 Might of gone too far with this one.

Backstory: I lived with Jenny when I was houseless indefinitely. She only let me stay for two weeks because it would be too "distracting" to her studies. Jenny was incredibly rich, didn't work, and her parents paid her rent for a 2 bedroom. She admitted she got rejected from every grad school she applied to except for the one her mom was in charge of. Her mom bought her a condo in the city the school was in. She kept asking me how she should decorate it, completely ignorant to how uncomfortable this made me and my other friends. Jenny was oblivious constantly to how she made others feel. She was actually the most incompetent person I've ever met in terms of comforting other, always tone deaf and completely absorbed with her own, single traumatic event. She made constant jokes about the abuser I was fleeing and even compared this stalked to a /serial killer/ documentary she watched, but never EVER showed any signs of internalizing how I almost lost my life to another person, how that might affect me or even just bum me out. Seriously, I've never met someone else who was so incapable of even being sensitive to issues that were /EXTREMELY SERIOUS/. Forget comforting, the stuff she routinely said to me and my other friends to try to cheer us up was beyond degrading. It was wearing on me a lot.

Jenny herself was neurodivergent. She often said her autism prevented her from understanding the feelings others had, reading their expressions, and tolerating crying or loud noise-- she forbid her musician roommate from doing both. None of those mean shes a worthless person, but all of those things would make someone a horrible therapist or social worker. Oh my God, literally every time I talked about my recent trauma, she would talk about herself and then blame her autism when I told her it just wasn't helping.

The final piece of this was I had a nervous breakdown and screamed at her over discord that she was a shit friend and needed to give up on social work, for like an hour. NOT MY PROUDEST, but I ALMOST DIED. I was living with her because SOMEONE WAS STALKING ME. and I would have liked to not have my abuse JOKED about. HOW DID JENNY RESPOND!? She began dragging me, through the mud, in the group chat, for, dating, an, older, woman, who, paid, for, my, air bnb, because, !!!she!!! wouldn't let me live with her for more than a week. I was HOMELESS. It became all about "OP you are such a b*tch, you are with a woman twice your age and she pays for everything now but you are still a miserable and angry person. You are so blah blah blah you are an ableist, you said I can't become a social worker bc of autism blah blah blah you have major major issues, Go back your rich granny and leech off of her you useless, fucked up little gold digger."

U_U Then, she started graphically describing how I deserved my abuse, so I shrimply began to troll. And yes, I pulled out my magnum oppus like fucking playing blue eyes white dragon, oh yeah I slipped her a pristine Jenny's mom facebook photo and said "Hey you never said your mom was so cute. Maybe, I could leech off her next and become your new dad." Yes, her dad died.* She blocked me immediately. Its OK. It was knives out for Jenny as soon as my GF gifted me a pair of $700 Isabel Marant shoes** , the most EXPENSIVE thing ive ever owned in my whole life, and Jenny saw me excited and called her mom to buy her a pair. It's, absolutely OK, if I am the asshole. I wear my crown of thorns, judas that I am, but I really, really think Jenny was being cruel. *he died 18 years ago ** the shoes are no more because i fell into my gf's rich friend's koi pond

[luvyeni]

Hellow. I was wondering if you can write this silly thing in my mind, Jay with a Chubby girlfriend, he's experienced and basically all the college girls recognize him as a sex God until he met her, she's virgin and insecure, like it actually took Jay a long time to gain her trust because she was thinking that it was impossible someone so popular and handsome like him liked some like her.

Here's my plot: all the girls have been talking about her and how fat and ugly she's making her even more insecure to the point that she push away Jay when he touched her like he usually does even just holding hands, especially when he holds her waist. But he's so in love with her that he just adores every single inch of her, reassuring her that no one is as beautiful as her, so he just kiss every inch of her making her first time so special and full of love and tears because I'm a cry insecure baby

Sorry for the long ask, literally i dreamed about this 🥺

FOREVER AND ALWAYS; PARK JEONGSEONG

pairings. boyfriend!jeongseong x fem!reader

wc. 1.9k

warnings. talks of weight, fatshaming, insecurities, oral (f. reader), unprotected sex, overstimulation, reader cries.

i hope it's like you dreamed💓! the bullying kind of made me sad since im a big girly myself, so i didn't add too much.

after finding out people have been saying horrible things about you, he's determined to show you how much he loves you.

—

"she's so shameless, if i was that fat i wouldn't wear such things." you frowned, looking down at the message wishing jay would hurry up. "yeah, jay is such a cute guy, he could get anyone he wants, i don't understand why he would date someone like her."

"it's probably a joke, it has to be."

you could hear them laughing at you , and they knew you could hear them. they knew because it was something you heard on a daily occurrence by people just like them.

"baby." jay ran over to you, kissing your cheek, noticing how you moved your face, but deciding to ignore it. "hey jay." the girls giggled flirtatiously. "hi." he turned back to smiling.

"my class got held up, im sorry, you ready to go home?" he went to grab your hand, something he always did when you'd walked back to your shared apartment near campus, so you could imagine his surprise when you brushed it away. "yeah, let's go."

jay was confused, it's been a while since you avoided his affection. when you started dated, jay had a reputation , that forbid you to trust him , being really standoffish , jay was much more experienced than you , actually you had no experience due to your insecurities. jay was aware of this , so he actually took the time to get to know you , and form a relationship with you , a year later and he didn't even care that you haven't had sex , he just wants to be around you all the time.

"let's stop and get some food to take home." he pointed to your favorite store. "i'm not hungry." jay was serious when it came to food though. "well then put in the fridge and eat it later, let's just get it now." he held the door open, letting you walk in.

"do you want the regular?" he stood behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist, kissing you lovingly. you felt eyes on you, and the chuckles, pushing his arm away. "get whatever jay." you went to go wait by the door, you didn't mean to sound so rude, but you really just wanted to go home.

jay couldn't even ask you what was wrong because he was next in line, and you had already put your headphone on, spaced out.

you walked the rest of the way in silence, headphones on as you finally made it to your apartment, taking your shoes off , making your way to your room, undressing out of your day clothes.

"wait, are we just not gonna talk about it." jay followed behind. "what are you talking about?" you searched through the drawer in your underwear and a tank top, looking for a pair of sweats.

"you've been acting weird the entire walk home, you've avoided my affection multiple times, you keep looking around to see if people are looking, what is it? what's wrong." you turned to him. "why are you still here?" he took a step back. "what."

"you can have anybody you want, there are girls lining up to have sex with you, they do it right in front of me so know, why are you here? what do you want from me? am i just a joke that you're stringing along for a laugh with your friends?" jay was stunned, even on your worst days, you've never snapped at him, and he could tell you didn't mean it either cause of the widening of your eyes.

"im so sorry, i didn't mean it." he was silent, just pulling you into a hug. "i'm sorry." he rubbed up and down your back. "it's okay." he whispered. "i know you didn't mean it." he could feel your shoulders shaking as you sniffled into his neck, your tears warm. "they're so mean." jay finally got what was bothering you , and he was pissed. how dare they make you feel like this, after everything he's done to make you feel secure, how dare they treat you like this.

"listen to me, there is no one as beautiful as you are, you understand me?" he looked at you with a serious face. "i don't want anyone else but you, and i will spend as long as i need to, to prove it to you love." he held your cheek in his hand, wiping the tears. "i love you okay?" you sniffled, nodding. "i love you too."

he kissed the apples of your cheeks. "my fools made my pretty baby feel bad about herself, they'll pay for this i swear." he kissed your lips. "my baby doesn't see how beautiful she is, but i do, she is the most beautiful person in the whole world." he kissed your neck. "i just love her so much." he said in between kissed. "j..jay." he shushed you. "let me show you baby just how beautiful i think you are." he backed you up against the bed, pushing you down softly.

"so so pretty." he climbed on top of you, continuing his assault on your neck. "j..jay, feels so good." you moaned. "yeah? does it?" he kissed down to your chest. "im gonna make you feel so good princess." his hand came up to grope your tits. "been waiting so long to feel these in my hand baby, so soft." you're back arched off the bed at the sensation. "so sensitive."

"t..they're too big." he lifted your shirt off your body, going back to squeezing them. "they're fucking perfect baby, i can't wait to fuck them, paint them with my cum." he licked a nipple. "jay f..fuck." you sighed, as he licked and sucked on your nipples, showing them each the same amount of love and affection, before he continued down to your tummy.

"your pretty tummy, love to touch. " his kisses were hot on your stomach. "made me feel really bad earlier, my pretty baby wouldn't let me touch her pretty tummy like i always do, it's my favorite thing, but she denied me." he was getting dangerously close to your underwear. "m..m'sorry." he gave your stomach one more kiss. "i know baby, you're gonna repay me by letting me eat your pretty pussy aren't you?" his words made your hips involuntarily buck up.

"y..yes." he slowly slid your panties down your legs, kissing up your legs, until he was face to face with your heat. "s.stop staring." you tried to close your legs, but he held them open. "sorry love, i can't help it, you're so pretty, everything about you is so pretty." he kissed the inside of your thighs. "i really want you to sit on my face." you whined, he looked up at you. "not right now." he nodded. "okay princess we don't have to, it's all about you." he gave your thighs a few more kisses, you could feel his breathing on your heat.

"jay please." you mewled trying to move your hips. "do something." he kissed your thighs one more time, before giving your cunt a surprise lick. "jay." your hands gripped the bedsheet. "taste so good baby." he gave your cunt a few kitten licks before eating you out like a starved man.

you've never felt something like this, the way he would switch between long stripes up your wet cunt, to little kitten licks, it had your head spinning. one particular lick had you grabbing his hair, grinding your cunt against his face. he moaned right into your heat, allowing you to use him to get yourself off.

"jay i feel- shit it feels so good." he could feel you gripping his hair a little harder, you about to cum. "go a head and cum pretty girl." you felt something build up in your abdomen, then snap. "im cumming!" jay continued licking your mess, riding out your high, until he felt your hips jerk from overstimulation. "j..jay."

"okay princess im done." he gave your clit one more kiss, before coming up, his lips glossed from your essence and spit. "you taste so good, i couldn't help it." his hand came down to his crotch, palming his hard on. "jay- we don't have to do anything right now, i just wanted to show you how much i love you."

you ignored him, replacing his hand with yours, rubbing him. "i want to, i'm ready." he groaned, hips bucking into your touch. "fuck- fine princess, i'll be gentle i swear." you trusted jay, you knew he wouldn't harm you. "i know you will." he climbed off of you, getting rid of all his clothes.

you never seen a cock before beside the videos, but his was probably the prettiest you've ever seen, he wasn't intimidatingly big; thick enough to make you feel good, veins decorated the sides all the way up to his dark red tip that had precum bubbling at the top, it made your mouth water.

"princess why are you staring so much?" he smirked, his thumb coming up to rub your clit. "p..pretty." he chuckled. "thank you love." he teased your hole with a finger. "so wet princess." he slowly slid his finger in. "gotta stretch you out a bit pretty, so it won't hurt as much." he slowly fingered you before pulling out.

"you ready beautiful?" you nodded. "please put it in jay." he bent down, kissing your lips, distracting you as he slowly pushed himself inside your hole. "j..jay." you moaned in pain and pleasure at the stretch. "i know love, i know." he slowly bottomed out inside you, letting out a low moan as you successfully took him hole. "pretty girl, you took all of me."

you were so tight, the way you clenched around him so tightly he knew he wasn't gonna last long, it had been a year since he had sex with anyone, forced to use his hand. "fuck baby, if i don't move now, im gonna cum just from your pretty pussing clenching around me." you moaned. "y..you can move." he pulled out, pushing himself inside you all at once this time. "f..fuck jay!" he began to thrust himself in and out of you.

"shit! princess you're so tight, so fucking wet."

his eyes were glued to your tits, the way they bounced along with every thrust. "so pretty baby, you're so fucking pretty— shit- i hate when you talk bad about yourself." you were a moaning mess. "you're so beautiful, you mean so much to me, you understand me." you nodded, but jay wanted to hear you.

"i said do *thrust* you *thrust* under *thrust* stand *thrust* me?" you felt the build up in your abdomen. "i..i understand." he kissed your lips. "i love you so much, don't forget that." you couldn't understand why, but you started to cry. "i..i love you too." he kissed your cheeks. "j..jay i'm gonna cum." he reached in between your bodies rubbing your clit. "cum for me pretty, go a head." you were a crying fucked out mess as you came on his cock. "shit!" he pulled out, fisting his cock before spilling all over your abused twitching hole.

you were still crying, overwhelmed by everything, jay pulled you into a hug, not caring about the sweat, or the smell of sex in the air, he only cared about you. "it's okay love, im right here." he rocked your body. "let it out."

he let you get yourself together before he helped you clean up, bringing you back to the bed. "don't go." he smiled, caressing your face. "i'll be right back." he said exiting the room. he returned back with the food you bought. "let's just eat in here tonight, i'll clean everything else later." you smiled as your boyfriend set everything up. "what is it?" he laughed. "i just love you so much." he kissed your lips, pulling away smiling.

"i told you, i'll always be here for you, i love you too, forever and always."

©️LUVYENI

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Im only human can’t you see

Parings - clarisse x fem reader!

Tw’s- uh reader smokes weed, toxic relationship

Summary - clarisse thinks your shitty girlfriend doesn’t deserve you

She was furious. This day was supposed to be a normal calm day but the universe said fuck that when you came running into the ares cabin crying over your girlfriend.

Once again Ashlyn had said or done something to ruin your day and at this point, clarisse was over it.

“Just break up with her already” Clarisse scoffed and wiped the tears away from your eyes. You sniffed and shook your head.

“I can’t just do that Claire. I love Ashley” You frowned. “I know she doesn’t mean to hurt me, she loves me and I don’t want to hurt her”

Clarisse just rolled her eyes and continued to comfort you. “Oh please that’s a bunch of bullshit. So you don’t want to hurt her but the second she does something to hurt you it’s ok”

“I didn’t say that”

“Well that’s how you acting” she sighed and cupped your face with both her hands holding eye contact. “You.. are beautiful and kind and so fucking amazing…. And someone like Ashley doesn’t deserve you, you know you're worth Y/N so Stop letting her hurt you. trust me there’s multiple women lined up at your door waiting and begging to be with you”

You wiped your eyes and nodded letting clarisse pull you into a hug. Though you’d never admit it you always loved the bear hugs you would receive from her, the subtle hint of pinewood and fire ash brought you comfort.

Clarisse was sitting near polishing her spear and talking to some of her siblings, she looked over and scowled at the sight. You were on the sand volleyball court laughing as Ashley picked you up. What made the scene even worse was you bending down and kissing her. Clarisse gagged at the sight not understanding how you could kiss someone with such a venomous mouth.

You pulled away from Ashly and sighed. “Babe what’s wrong” she asked chuckling, you shook your head but Ashly rolled her eyes. “That’s really fucking annoying how you constantly shake your head never wanting to talk” she spoke sourly.

“Ash you know I didn’t mean it like that it’s nothing”

“Ok sure, It’s Fine what do I care god fucking forbid I was concerned” Ashley scoffed starting yet another argument, however, this time Clarisse was on standby.

“Where do you get off talking to her like that” clarisse stepped in between you two and towered over Ashley.

“Fuck off clarisse this isn’t your argument to bud into”

“Of Yeah? Because it kinda did when you started cussing at my friend” Clarisse leaned forward with a misleading smile.

You groaned and pushed clafisse back seperating the two. “Can you two not.. look she’s just upset over me not communicating properly it’s fine” you sighed and gently placed a hand on clarisses arm watching her calm down.

“Yeah cussing out your partner really setting the bar high on communication”

“Oh fuck you”

You grabbed Ashly’s arm and walked away with her, however you looked back for a moment to see clarisse.

Some hours had passend since the argument with Ashley and you decided now would be perfect to spend time with clarisse. The wind softly blew as you and clarisse sat on the ares cabin roof.. you took a long drag from the blunt before gently exhaling the smoke.

You looked over and smiled slightly as clarisse shit talked Your girlfriend. “I’m serious y/n, Ashley doesn’t deserve you why the hell do you still put up with her bullshit”

“I still put up with yours” you joked which earned you a dramatic eye-roll. “..Ashley actually ended things with me” clarisse looked back shocked.

“What..”

“Yeah uh.. she said i was ‘to much work’ ” You spoke distastefully and put the blunt out.. “you know it’s ironic, I was only with Ashley because she reminded me of you”

Clarisse scoffed “I’m nothing like that bitch” you gave her a look which made clarisse continue to complain as you chuckled.

“Look.. What I meant was that, I guess I’ve always had a crush on you but I always figured you wanted someone else like silena so I picked the next best option, Ashley” you shrugged and looked over, hidden shame and hurt in your eyes.

There was silence for what seemed forever.

“Really..” clafisse asked quietly with a flat tone. You nodded confirming your statement. “So it’ll be ok I do this then huh” you look up confused but was met with clarisse softly grabbing your face and kissing you.

Her calloused hands made light friction against your skin and her chapped lips were a stark contrast to your gentle ones. The kiss was slightly bad as clarisse struggled to figure out what to do, you giggled against her lips before wrapping your arms around her neck and leading the kiss showing the girl what to correctly do.

Her hands rubbed circles onto your waist, adding some tongue while the two continued to make out.

You pulled away smiling. “Gods I really fucking hated Ashley” clarisse laughed still high from the adrenaline. She leaned in to kiss you again not wanting to let you go..

You walked into the dining hall with clarisse holding your hand, your relationship finally becoming official as of the previous night.

You kissed her cheek and gently squeezed her hand enjoying how clarisse tried to keep a strong appearance and not look weak.

“You slut”

Clarisse turned around faster than you expected. Standing behind you was Ashley. “What were broken up for less than a day and your already fucking with this piece of shit”

“Oh your one to talk you-“ you put your hand on clarisses arm stepping between the Two. A position you swore you found yourself in often. You looked up at her and gave her a look telling her to cut it out.

After she gave a resentful sigh clarisse backed up. You turned around facing Ashley and crossed your arms. “Yeah I am, because gods forbid that I actually want someone who appericates and cares for me the way I want than someone like you who only cares about themselves. I mean common what the hell is wrong with you- instead of throwing a tantrum because I have a partner who wants me maybe start working on yourself so your next girlfriend doesn’t have to deal with your toxic bullshit” your tone flat and serious. After a moment you grabbed clarisses hand and lead her away while Ashley just scoffed and started to shit talk with her friends.

“Damn.. that was actually kind of hot”

“Shut up larue”

[ariseur]

What's your Vergil Sparda headcanons sfw and nsfw (you don't have to make this one if you don't want it) :)

vergil (n)sfw hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

omg why did it take me so long just to do simple headcanons 😭😭

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

some curse words, spoilers for vergil lore in general, spoilers for mission 08 and so forth in dmc5, nsfw is labelled before written so read at your own discretion!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ sooo, in deep contrast to his twin brother, all know vergil is super serious

❥ i mean, if you spent a bunch of your time in hell, wouldn’t it take a toll on you too???

❥ because of what’s happened to vergil, it’ll be really difficult to actually get through to him

❥ even just small talk or simple touches are uncomfortable for him at the beginning

❥ and in order for him to trust you, you gotta be super persistent to actually stick with him

❥ i feel like vergils too stubborn for things like therapy, i don’t feel like he’d like to admit he needs help

❥ he’d probably keep going until he he overexerts himself or snaps, which would probably take a while considering he can endure a lot before giving in

❥ once you guys are actually together though, you’re essentially one step further to getting to the center of vergil because it means you’ve already broken down some of his walls

❥ vergils the type of guy to love silently, and maybe more distantly than a normal person would love

❥ but whoever said he was a normal person?

❥ he doesn’t know how to deal with his feelings, so he takes up avoiding you as his own way in hopes that you’ll come to him

❥ you walk into a room? he walks out

❥ you sit next to him? he’ll keep his nose buried in a book or his work in hopes that you’ll ‘pester’ him

❥ don’t let his feigned annoyance fool you, he prays for you to approach him

❥ by no means is vergil shy, but when you spend so many years in hell.. you kinda lack social cues

❥ he obviously know what love is, he’s not clueless, but it feels different when it comes to you

❥ it almost feels foreign

❥ vergil loves showing off that your his and he’s yours, he’ll buy you a pendant with a blue gem or something with his name engraved in it

❥ if you whine enough, he’ll ‘give in’ (he’s just acting tough) and read to you at night ‘begrudgingly’

❥ if you read too, he’ll curtly leave a book that he think you’ll like on your nightstand when he comes home

❥ if you eat dinner at the table, he’ll have you sit next to him so he can lock ankles with you or link your pinkies under the table

❥ other than that, vergil’s not rlly into pda?

❥ if anything, he’ll stand next to you or sit close enough to where your legs or thighs touch. that’s kinda like his ver. of pda 😭

❥ if you get along with nero or if maybe v saw how you got along with him before you knew he was vergil, even if he treats nero as a pest, it somewhat confuses him?

❥ maybe even almost upsets him??

❥ it just gives him a glimpse on what he could’ve had, and i guess it somewhat creates a dull ache within him knowing he could’ve been a present figure in nero’s life with you

❥ def an early bird, the type of dude to kiss your forehead before he leaves in the morning because he know you won’t wake up to see him before he goes

❥ ugh just imagine vergil staring down at you for a minute, contemplating his decisions while looking at your serene form before leaning down and placing a feather light kiss to your forehead so as to not wake you up

❥ i need to be contained

❥ he wouldn’t let you see it but he sometimes cracks a smile at just the thought of doing mundane activities, even if they’re such small tasks, he still cherishes the thought of a small life with you even if he’s married to his work

❥ but god forbid you’re around dante though, and if you’re playful n teasing like him?? vergil will never hear the end of dante’s irritating tales told to you of when they were children

❥ it probably ends up with yamato pressed against dante’s throat but it’s all brotherly fun guys don’t worry

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

the familiar coos sung by the mourning doves fell deaf on VERGIL’s ears, only picking up your soft breaths as your chest rose up and down with each one you took. he couldn’t help but admire how comfortable you looked in your sleep—with your lips parted slightly and hair splayed out messily as it stayed trapped under you.

he cocked his head in bemusement at the sight of golden rays dancing on you collarbone, tinting the skin with the early sun of dawn. he was surprised you hadn’t woken up yet, considering the golden hue beamed along your face as well. one upside of getting to work early was seeing your peaceful face in the mornings. vergil studied your face as if he’d never see it again, and in a way, not seeing you again was very possible. due to being a devil hunter, risks were high. but vergil couldn’t bear the thought of doing that to you. he studied your face so carefully, eyes roaming across your skin to commit every single one of your features to memory.

his eyes of silver, once crinkled in pain and alone, now looked at you curiously as they caught every glimpse of you. the way your eyebrows furrowed when your mind swirled with its own concoction of your dreams, the way you changed positions to search for what he could only assume was the cold part of the pillow.

he felt his heartbeat quicken as he watched you stir in your sleep, turning your head over and allowing another angle of your beauty to be silently worshipped by your lover.

as he leaned down, he made sure to bend at the waist in order to make limited noise, cursing the material of his coat scrunching and making a slight sound as it crinkled. and as his lips connected with your forehead, he reveled in the smell of your shampoo from your shower that you took last night as he closed his eyes, holding his lips there in a feather light kiss.

then, just as quickly as they had been placed—his lips left your forehead as he began to exit the bedroom, taking one last glance at your resting form before he quietly closed the door.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

NSFW BELOW ꨄ︎

❥ i know i just wrote that cute ass blurb but now that we’re talking nsfw, vergil is def a quick learner

❥ obviously it’ll take a while to initiate intimacy, and as aforementioned—even just hand holding takes a while for him to digest

❥ but shit, this man has stamina for days

❥ being half a demon definitely doesn’t help, but vergil can actually go so long in the sheets w you 😭

❥ he’ll be awkward at first, unsure of what to do but once you guide him and reassure him that it’s okay to touch you, you just unlocked smth else in him omg

❥ his libido isn’t very high, but on the days that you guys do get intimate, he can last a while

❥ he’ll assure that you both are satisfied by the end of it, likes to know that you’ve finished before him at least once

❥ if you’ve gotten really bratty or you’ve gotten him really into it, you might feel him borderline triggering as his claws dig into your hips a little more and his groans get more guttural

❥ sorry guys—this man will not bottom or be any sort of submissive, and if he does, you will need to be in a committed relationship for at least a year or two

❥ he def has control issues

❥ in terms of talking dirty, he still holds that sharp precise tone when he speaks

❥ i don’t feel like hes much a degrading guy? maybe more possessive talk if anything

❥ this man doesn’t cuss often, but occasionally if you clench around him, he’ll let out a small huff of, “shit.” even if it’s barely audible

❥ i think maybe he teases you a bit, enough just to get you hot and bothered so you’ll be writhing underneath him

❥ being half-demon gives him some package guys, trust

❥ vergil’s lengthier, a small sensitive vein on the underside of him that you could use to your advantage on the off chance you suck him off

❥ when vergils in a certain mood, he’ll kiss on your skin (another form of teasing) and murmurs praises of how divine you look

❥ he loves the way your hands grip at the sheets, or the way they rush to your mouth as you try to cover up those pretty sounds while he’s giving you pleasure—no matter how many times he tells you to let them slip out

❥ not a big fan of marks, either on him or you. he still has to go outside and so do you, he’d probably be pretty embarrassed if someone saw them and questioned what happened

❥ unlike dante, vergil is pretty quiet about his love and sex life, he likes to keep it pretty tame and under wraps

❥ prefers to make it intimate rather than a quick fuck, he wants you to feel every ounce of love in his movements—whether it’s with his tongue, hands, or just his length

❥ he likes to drag it out too, i’m not talking quickies, i’m talking about full on ‘love making’ sessions (yes, he’ll refer to them as that most of the time)

❥ like i said, he wants you to feel every last bit of it with his body, unless you want him to spew some poetry out of the blue expressing his feelings—he can’t express them with regular words for shit

❥ he wants you to see what you’re doing to him, how you affect him, what you mean to him is more important than anything