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wandaslittleweirdo · 23 days ago

Text

Whisper

⋆⋆౨ৎ pairing: 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚎𝚡!𝚣𝚘𝚘𝚎𝚢 𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚗 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: On a still, quiet night in your remote cabin, you relax on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate and your favourite childhood movie. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow outside is followed by three sharp knocks on your door. You peek through the curtain to find your ex-girlfriend, Zooey Kern, standing out in the cold on your porch. You reluctantly allow her inside, but the night quickly spirals into something far darker than you could’ve ever expected.

warnings: noncon, top!zooey, dirty talk, praise kink, obsessive exes, forced intoxication, toxic relationships, pet names (bunny, baby, sweetheart, etc), manipulation, fingering, zooey takes photos of you nakey TwT, a sprinkle of after care for the little softie in me

A/N: happy new years to the sick adorable cuties who like my blog !!! sorry I didn’t upload anything for Christmas, was busy >_> — masterlist.

this is a dark fic. 18+. wlw. men & minors dni!

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You’re nestled on your couch, your feet propped up on the worn-out wooden coffee table, a knitted throw blanket draped over your legs with a steaming mug of hot chocolate and marshmallows in your hands. You’ve always loved your own company, preferred it even, the silence and the space giving you a sense of comfort and order. The film's soundtrack played, a soft, cheerful backdrop to your peaceful evening. The plot is familiar, a fantasy movie you had watched every year since you were a child—it was comfort food for the soul, the kind that didn't require much thought.

As you slowly took a sip of your drink, the sound of something outside startles you.

These weren’t the usual little crunchy noises of a wild animal in the snow or creaks on your porch made from the old floorboards. These were powdery-like sounds of someone moving through the snow, and thumps made by boots. Footsteps, clumsy but unmistakable. The steps were followed by three distinct knocks, a shuffle, and then silence. You paused the movie, your eyes narrowing slightly.

Who could be out at this hour, especially in the hushed embrace of the woods? The isolation of the towering surrounding trees didn’t usually invite unexpected visitors. You slowly tip toe over to the window and crack open the curtain, the sight of your ex girlfriend causing you to gasp and snap the curtain right back into place.

You frowned. This wasn’t the Zooey you remembered. Her blonde hair once always controlled waves now a mess of tangles, and her body swayed, clearly struggling to keep her balance.

You let out a scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. How did she find you here, in the middle of nowhere? You hadn’t spoken or seen each other in a year.

You approach the door cautiously, wondering if the woods had finally led you into insanity and hallucinations.

The peephole provides a distorted view, but you know it’s her. The woman you used to love with all your heart and more, in all her disheveled glory, waiting at your door and looking up at the stars with a gaze softer than you had ever seen it.

She stood there, silhouetted by the moon as she pushed one of her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. She chews her bottom lip while her eyes wander over your seasonly decorated porch, reaching out to fiddle with the antlers of a wooden reindeer you had sat on your porch swing.

You unlock the door, swinging it open with an emotionless stare. The crisp night air hits your face, bringing with it the faint scent of pine and something else... alcohol?

She's wearing a brown leather jacket with fur detailing, unzipped to show a white tank top hidden underneath, paired with simple dark blue jeans. Your eyes then fall to her necklace, delicate and silver with a heart pendant intertwined with another. Your stomach twists when you remember it’s the one you gave her for your two year anniversary.

Her eyes snapped to yours when she heard the creak of the door opening. She seems surprised for a moment, but her stunned expression was quickly replaced with a lopsided smile. "Hey, bunny!” She slurs, the confidence that once made her so irresistible now marred by a tipsy wobble.

You fold your arms and lean against the doorframe, blocking her entrance. "What are you doing here, Zooey?"

She tries to straighten up but fails, her hand reaching out to the porch railing to steady herself. "We haven’t talked in forever, Y/N. I wanted to see you.” She replied simply, her voice a little too loud for the quiet night.

You feel a twinge of pity, but the hatred from last year flares up again, causing you to grimace. “Okay, you’ve seen me. Bye now.”

Zooey's eyes widen, and she stumbles forward, her hand shooting out to grab the door. "Wait, I can’t go.”

You took a step back when she suddenly lunged forward, avoiding any close proximity with your hand tight on the doorknob. "Why not?"

She takes a deep breath before answering. "I don't know. I was driving to come see you, found a liquor store, stopped to buy some, and then I was driving again. Then I found a liquor store..." She trailed off, her speech slurred as her brows knitted together. Rolling your eyes, you fight the urge to slam the door in her face.

"And then what, Zooey?" you huffed, making it clear that you don’t have the patience or tolerance for her like you used too.

Her eyes refocus and she blinks rapidly. "Then my car broke down, but I realised I was close enough to walk. So here I am!” She says with a dramatic flourish, as if revealing a grand secret.

"Zooey, it's the middle of the night, you're drunk, and you expect me to just let you in after what you did?”

Her eyes widen even more, a look of shock flashing across her face as if she expected you to drop everything and help her like you used too. "B-but, baby, I just—“ She wobbles again, this time almost falling over. You can't help but catch her, the old instincts kicking in.

You groaned, propping her up by wrapping an arm around her waist and moving her arm to rest around your neck. "My god, Zooey,” you sighed, carefully leading her inside.

Zooey giggles as you guide her to the couch. “Sit down. Watch out for the rug.” She plops herself down and sprawls her legs out in front of her.

“You were never the one to give me orders, remember?" She smiled as her eyes ran around the room. The same old couch, the same knick-knacks on the shelves. But everything is in an entirely different home, away from the place she broke your trust and abandoned her loyalty.

“Just stay there, I’ll get you some water,” You called out as you walked into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

By the time you return, Zooey has made herself fully comfortable, watching your movie with droopy eyes and munching on one of your half-eaten chocolate chip cookies. You hold out the bottle to her, and she takes it with a sleepy smile. "Thank you bunny," she murmurs, her eyes never leaving the screen in front of her.

You continue to ignore the nicknames, taking a seat on the single chair opposite the couch. "The guest room is ready, sleep in there." You deadpan. Zooey's smile fades, and she looks over at you in confusion.

"What?" She asked, setting the water on the coffee table without taking a sip.

"You’re sleeping in the guest room," you cross your legs as you lean back into your chair. "You're not staying in my room. I don’t trust you.”

"But I miss you," she whines, but you only shrug.

"Missing me doesn’t mean anything," you reply coldly. "Your car broke down, it’s too far out of town to call anyone at this time of night, and you aren’t sleeping in my bed. So, the guest bedroom or your car. That’s your choice, I couldn’t care less.”

“Why are you being so mean, Y/N/N?” The subtle pout on Zooey's face is the same one you used to find endearing, but now it only fuels your annoyance. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check.

"Zooey, we broke up because you’re a cheat. You took any sort of respect I had for you, this is your fault."

But she doesn’t seem to hear your harsh tone. "That Ruby friend of yours? She lied to you, she wants you for herself. I still love you, Y/N. Only you.” She whispers, her eyes searching yours, looking for something that isn't there anymore.

Your eyes widen, the words hitting you like a punch in the gut. You had been split up for over a year, and as far as you know, she wasn’t bothered to even try and contact you. Her eyes are genuine, but the alcohol clouds their depth, making it hard to discern truth from drunken rambling.

"Love?" You repeat, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. "You have a funny way of showing it." You stand up from your chair and hurriedly walk to the kitchen, hoping she’ll recognise your need for space. But she follows anyway, her movements inept and awkward from the alcohol.

“Go to sleep, Zooey.” You clenched your fists, but she persists, wobbling after you like a lost puppy. "Come on, Y/N!” she slurs again, a hopeful look in her eyes. "Can we talk? Please, my love.."

"We're not doing this, Zooey." You say through gritted teeth as you grab a bottle of wine and a clean glass from your top cabinet, unsure if you could continue talking to her sober without someone getting hurt.

Zooey sighs dramatically and leans against the counter. "I just want to talk to you.”

You shake your head, your hand tightening around the bottle. "Talk about what? You’ve said a lot already and you’ve invaded my space. I should be kicking you out right now.” You pour yourself a generous glass, bringing the cup to your lips and taking a large gulp.

Zooey's eyes follow the movement, her gaze trained on your lips. "We can talk about anything," she said quietly, reaching out to touch your arm again. "Everything. I just want to be close to you again.”

She tried to place her hands on your waist, but you jerk away from her touch, the revulsion clear in your expression. "Don’t touch me.” You hissed. “Do you hear yourself? Do you even hear me? I’m saying no and you’re talking crazy! You don’t love me and you don’t miss me. You miss controlling me. You’re sick.”

Her eyes harden almost immediately, as if you had flipped a switch inside of her. You see the anger that starts to seep through her irises, and you felt a pit form in your stomach. She leans in closer, the smell of cheap alcohol overwhelming your senses.

"I’m going to bed," you announce, your voice a little shakier than you wanted it to be. You make a move to step around her, but she mirrors that action, blocking you with her towering frame. The kitchen suddenly feels claustrophobic, the walls closing in on you as you tense and stare into her chest, refusing to look up and meet her eyes.

"I've had enough of your shit.” Her voice is lower than before, your heart skipping the same way it used to when you heard that tone.

"You think you're tough now, but you're still that fragile, weak little girl that let me break her heart over and over again a year ago." She pushed her finger into your chest, poking at the tender spot where your heart used to flutter when she said sweet nothings. Your eyes water, and she doesn’t miss it, the corner of her mouth twitching into a wicked smile as she watches you shrink.

Your eyes flicker up to her face, your vision blurred from the tears in your eyes. "I've changed, Zooey." But your voice is weak, showing the truth behind your words. She's right. You’re still the same, but every part of you wishes you weren’t.

"Aw, see, look at that." Zooey's tone held its teasing edge, her fingers reaching out to wipe away the tear that had spilled down your cheek. You flinched at her touch, your body instinctively recoiling from the warmth of her skin . “You're still that sensitive baby you were when I left.”

Still avoiding her eyes, you clenched your jaw. "I'm not a baby, Zooey.” You mumbled.

She tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "You’re so cute.” She chuckled as you bit your quivering lip, feeling the heat of the wine in your cheeks. Your eyes sting, and you blink back the tears, determined to not let her see you vulnerable. Although it was far too late. She could already see the crack in your shell, and she knew what to say to get you to break completely.

"Just leave me alone.” You said shakily, barely audible as you sniffled and wiped your leaky nose with your sleeve. She leans in closer, her breath warm and alcohol-laden against your cheek. "You don’t really want that though, do you? Somewhere deep down, you still want me to hold you, kiss you and love you." She cooed, ever so softly, her hands slipping around your waist except this time, you don’t fight.

You feel the salty sting of the tears run down your face, and for a brief moment, you let her hold you. You couldn’t tell if her touch was welcome or not as she wrapped her arms around your head so she could pull you into her chest and shushed you. She had created a space in your head where you truly believed you needed her, even when you went an entire year healing and barely thinking of her.

But the sob that rips through your body isn’t one of longing, but of sadness for what you’ve lost. Your self-respect and the naive belief in true love, the hope that one day she’d change and you’d be the perfect couple you had dreamt about in the beginning of your relationship.

"Why are you doing this to me?" You sobbed again, your voice hoarse from holding back your emotions.

"Because you're just so easy to be mean too, honey," she replied, her voice devoid of affection, her smile cold. You recoil from her grasp as if it burns, and she laughed lightly, a sound that rings in your ears.

She's right. You do still have feelings for her, a dark and twisted part of you that you had buried deep down, hoping it would rot away. But here it is, blooming again like a poisonous flower in the middle of the night.

"Come on, baby, just one more night," she cajoled, “You know you miss me.”

She gently pries the bottle from your fingers, twisting the cap off with ease. The liquid streams into your cup, filling it to the brim with a deep, rich red. She extends the cup toward you, her eyes shining with something you couldn’t put your finger on. "Don’t forget about your drink. It’ll help you feel better.” She reassured. Her voice is soothing, almost hypnotic, reminiscent of a serpent’s hiss, coaxing its prey with sweet promises of relief.

You pull back slightly as the alcohol fumes rise to tickle your nostrils, but the tremble in your hands gives you away. She chuckles softly, putting the cup back down and bringing the bottle up to your lips. “Open.” You obey and part your lips without thinking, feeling it warm your insides as she starts to guide you to the couch.

She sits you down and takes a seat on your lap, her legs straddling yours as she lightly pushes you to lean against the back of the couch. The weight of her body presses down on you, and you feel the strength in her thighs, the dominance in her touch as she strokes your hair just like she used to. "You know,” she started, “I never stopped thinking about you."

Her words made you want to cry more, and you take another gulp of wine, hoping the alcohol would wash away the pain and the doubt. You want to push her off of you, scream at her that she has no right to be here, but the warmth of her body is a comfort you haven’t felt in so long.

As you drink, her hand moves to rub your back, the motion gentle and slow. You hate how good it feels, how your muscles loosen under her caress. It’s been a year, but it’s as if no time has passed at all.

"Why are you.. here?" you mumble, your words slightly gargled and muffled from the drink she’s feeding you. Zooey tipped the bottle towards your mouth again, ready to ignore your question until you pulled back. She sighed, taking the bottle away from your pink stained lips.

"Because, my love, I know you. I know that under that cold exterior, you’re still the same girl who cried in my arms every time we fought." She pecks your lips. "And I know that no matter how much you say you hate me, there’s that little place in your heart where you still love me, even when I hurt you. I can’t get enough of it.”

You can't argue with the truth, so you don’t. Instead, you lean into her, letting the warmth of the wine and the familiarity of her presence seep into your bones.

Her hand moves from your back to cup your jaw, tilting it back to allow the wine to flow, her thumb brushing over your chin to catch a stray droplet. The gesture is so intimate, so loving, but her intentions are far from that.

A warm, electric buzz coursed through your body, each nerve ending alive with an intoxicating tingle. Your hands, heavy and unsteady, rested against the center of her chest, as if trying to push her away, though any real effort was utterly futile. The rich, velvety wine pumped through your veins, leaving you feeling achingly vulnerable and helpless, your strength sapped from the alcohol.

Zooey’s hand drops down to yours, squeezing a few times to ensure you don’t miss a word as she talks. She tells you about her travels, the adventures she’s had, the places she’s seen, and the moments she missed you and wished she could’ve shared with you.

Then you remember. The pain, the humiliation, the countless nights spent crying over her, and all the effort you made to live happily on your own. “Stop.”You mumble, moving your head to the side and attempting to scoot back further into the couch. But she doesn’t move, her grip on your hand tightening.

"Just one more, please. For me, darling." She murmurs softly as she nudges the cool glass bottle to your lips. Despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, urging you to resist, you find yourself surrendering to her charm, tilting your head back to take a long swig.

“There we go, you did so well. How do you feel now?” She asked before placing the empty bottle onto the coffee table behind her. You cough as the alcohol starts to blur the edges of your reality, feeling Zooey's hands move to your shoulders, her thumbs working into the tight muscles that have held years worth of tension. Your eyes flutter, your mouth parting slightly as a soft moan left your lips.

"I'm okay... you should go to sleep, you’re drunk." You waved her away, your gaze glazed over and confused as if suddenly lost in a distant fog. You made an attempt to stand up, but halfway to your feet, your knees buckled beneath you. You stumbled back, sinking into the soft cushions once more, the world around you swirling slightly.

"Oh, Y/N/N, look how sleepy you are. You need someone to take care of you."

One of her hands leaves your shoulder and moves to rest on your hip. You know you should stop her, that this isn’t the way to heal, but the words seem to jumble together as you try to speak.

Her other hand finds its way under the hem of your shirt, her nails gently scratching the skin of your tummy. "No..” you mumbled, but it's lost in the sound of her breathing, ragged and hot against your neck. You tried desperately to find her hands to push them away, but your vision and common knowledge is muddled from the alcohol.

"I don’t- stop," you try again, but it's weak, a feeble protest that she ignores. Her hand slides up, her thumb brushing against the bottom of your breast, and you suck in a breath, the chill of the air biting at your exposed skin. You buck your hips in an attempt to wriggle away, but the friction you received from her knee slotting between your thighs made you gasp.

"Zooey?…” You try to push her away again, but your muscles feel like they’ve turned to jelly. She chuckles, low and dark, her teeth grazing the soft skin of your neck.

"Shh," she soothed, her lips trailing further down as she spoke. "You're hurting. I'm taking care of you."

Zooey's hand moves upward to squeeze your breast, and you whimper loudly. It's a sound you hate, a sound of need and desire that you never thought you'd make again, not for her. But your body remembers the way she touched you, the way she could make you feel alive even when you were practically dead inside.

Her fingers play with the sensitive peak, and your breath hitches. You're not sure if you want her to stop or to keep going, but your body is betraying you, your breath quickening and your heart racing.

Zooey notices the subtle change in your breathing and smirks, taking it as a sign to continue. She inches closer, her breath warm against your skin, and captures your lips in a kiss that feels both achingly familiar and foreign. Your lips part on instinct, and she deepens the kiss, her tongue slipping inside to reunite with yours.

She moans into your mouth, her hand underneath your shirt roughly groping and squeezing you. You move your head to the side and out of her reach, trying to form coherent words through the haze of alcohol.

"You’re so soft," she whispers, her voice a sultry murmur that warms the air between you. As she pulls her hand out from beneath your shirt, she grips your shoulders and gently maneuvers you, coaxing you to lay flat on your back.

In an effortless movement, she shifts so that her hips press against yours, her hands moving to unbutton your shirt with surprising deftness. The cold air hits your skin, sending a shiver through your body that she mistakes for excitement.

Her cold hand slides down your stomach, and you arch your back, a breathy moan escaping your throat as she pushes her hand into your pants and reaches your core, cupping you with her cold hand.

You’re laid out on the couch now, your legs kicking as she rubs you. Your panties are damp, clinging to you shamefully. The wine is doing its job, the buzz making it harder to resist her as she starts to pull down your pants with her free hand.

Hearing you moan her name again after so long made her growl, nipping at your bottom lip as she traced your slit through your thin panties. You can feel your body respond despite the horror of the situation, your pussy pulsing under her touch. "I can feel you," she husked. "You’re all wet and throbbing for me.”

"Zooey!" You whined loudly, struggling to tighten your muscles and tug your pants back up.

"Please, wait," you begged. Your heart hammers in your chest as you try to sit up, but she's too fast. Her hand whips up to your shoulder, her fingers digging into you as she shoved you back down.

"Don't you remember, baby? You used to beg for it. Every night. Zooey, I need you. Zooey, please touch me, right here…”

Your cheeks burn with a mix of humiliation and arousal as she recounts moments you'd buried under the weight of anger and resentment. Her fingers prod at your covered cunt, and you bit down hard on your lower lip to stifle a whimper.

She watched your chest rise and fall quickly as you panted, your cheeks and neck flushed and tear stained. "Tell me you need me."

You remember the passion, the heat, the desperation. But you also remember the betrayal, the pain, the coldness that settled in your chest like a rock when you heard she had been with someone else. "Stop it," you whisper, weakly trying to pull her hand away.

Her hand moves from your shoulder to your face, her thumb wiping away the tears that are now streaming down your cheeks. "Aw, but I don’t want to stop. I just want to make you feel good,"

You stare at her, your eyes glassy and distraught from the wine. Your body shakes with the effort to push her away, but she’s too far gone now. “Say it. Say you need me.” She pulls your panties to the side and her thumb circles your bare clit, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning. "Please, Zooey.." you begged.

But she just smirks, her eyes sparkling as she slowly pushes two fingers inside of you. Her lips part and she sucks in a shaky breath hearing you gasp, your body twitching from the sudden intrusion. She moves them roughly, her thumb circling your sensitive bud as she invades you with a brutality that feels almost animalistic. You whimper, the pain mixing with a corrupt pleasure that makes you want to hate her even more.

“You’re so cute.” She kisses you again, her tongue finding its way back into your mouth, tasting of bitter wine. Her fingers work inside you, each stroke bringing a tear to your eye, a whimper to your throat. You want to stop it, want to push her away and tell her to leave, but your body won’t listen, your hips moving with her hand and your toes curling.

Her thumb presses down harder on your clit, and you can’t hold back the tiny moan that escapes your lips. The sound seems to fuel her, her hand moving faster, her fingers pumping into you skilfully.

"There it is," she breathes, "Just like that. Keep making those pretty noises for me,”

Her thumb works your clit in a brutal rhythm, her fingers plunging into your wetness as if she's trying to claim you again, to prove that she still owns you. You're close to the edge, so close, and you can feel it. You can feel it in the way your walls tighten around her fingers, the way your breaths are coming in short, desperate gasps.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, focusing on the pain, grounding yourself in it. You push another moan that's fighting to get out back down into the pit of your stomach, where it belongs. You don’t want her to hear it, to feed on it like a vampire craving for blood.

Her eyes narrow slightly, sensing your resistance, and speeds up her movements. You can feel your orgasm approaching, but you refuse to let it happen. You dig your nails into the couch cushions and squeeze your eyes shut. You bite down even harder on your cheek, the taste of coppery blood flooding your mouth. The pain helps, it’s something you can focus on, something to hold onto as she tries to pull you back into the abyss.

Her breathing is harsh in your ear, the hand that’s not inside of you snaking it’s way up to your neck, holding you in place. You can feel her hips moving, grinding urgently against your thigh.

"You can’t hold out on me for much longer, baby,” You try to push her away again, but she's too strong, her grip on your neck tightening. You feel your body start to give in, the beginnings of a climax threatening to overwhelm you.

"No no no," you say under your breath, trying to squeeze your thighs shut. She smiles, her hips rocking against you in time with her hand, her eyes looking for yours, watching the battle between your need for release and your need to resist her.

Your body arches upwards, a silent scream trapped in your throat as the orgasm rips through you, shuddering and raw. She grins, her eyes glowing with a twisted triumph as she feels you squirt around her fingers.

The room spins as she pulls away, leaving you gasping for breath. "There you go, sweetheart. Wasn’t that nice?” she readjusted her jacket as she stood up and reached for her phone on the table.

"What are you doing?" you rasp out.

"Just going too.. capture the moment,” she says with a wink. She opens the camera app, and before you can react, she points the back camera at your tear-stained face and your exposed, trembling body.

"Look who I found,"

Your heart sinks as you realize what she's doing. "Zooey, don’t," you warn, trying to shield your face with your hands. But she's too quick for you, snapping a few pictures with a cruel smile.

"Oh, come on, don’t be shy. You look so cute!" She praised. "It's been so long since I've had you all to myself like this."

Your face is the picture-perfect example of humiliation, flushed a deep shade of red that matches the bruises she left on your neck. Tears clung to your lashes, sparkling like diamonds in the low light, tracing paths down your cheeks to your neck. Your shirt is gaping open, revealing the soft curves of your breasts and the smooth plane of your stomach, your jeans pulled down just enough to expose the skin of your upper thighs.

"Please, Zooey," you hiccup, your voice hoarse and pleading. She ignores your pleas, taking a few more shots, zooming in to ensure she didn’t miss a single detail.

You feel more exposed than ever with the cold, clinical flash bouncing off your skin. You attempt to sit up, but your legs are jelly, and your strength is waning.

"What are you going to do with those?" you ask, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

“They’re just for me, honey. A little souvenir of our reunion. You don’t mind, do you?” Zooey’s voice is sweet, but there’s a bite to it that makes you tense. She sits on the edge of the couch, flipping through the images with a sadistic smirk.

She tucks her phone away with a dramatic sigh. "Now, let's get you cleaned up, darling. It’s a New Year, I’d hate for you to stay like this.” She says, her tone switching to something strangely close to affectionate. She walks away to grab a warm, wet cloth from the bathroom and returns to your side, her movements surprisingly gentle. You flinch as she wipes away the tears and the smudged makeup, and again when she uses a different cloth to clean up your other sticky mess.

Zooey carefully dresses you in a festive Christmas sweater that you had neatly folded in your top drawer. You watch her in a daze, unable to process what's happening. She tugs it down over your head, the smell of fabric softener and her woody perfume a painful reminder of happier times.

"There, you look much better.” She says, stepping back to admire her work.

With a sigh, Zooey sits beside you, her hand finding its way to your thigh. "You know, I missed this," she whispers, gently taking your chin between her fingers and turning your head to look up at her. "Missed having you here, all the time, right next to me.”

Her hand moves higher, her thumb tracing the edge of the sweater, grazing the valley of your breasts. You stiffen and your breathing stops when her fingers brush against your throat. She chuckles when she catches your reaction, and leans in, her lips brushing against yours.

“Happy new year, bunny.”

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

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readerofoddities · 2 months ago

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I'm a sucker for fancy "ooohhh space/tarot card" symbolism for the winners

BUT

Joel being that fuck ass car is hilarious and I want it to be a thing

Just imagine it:

The sun, the stars, the moon, etc and then... CAR

Everyone gets a fancy illustration or smth and then it's just a scribble of Joel driving his car with the biggest grin on his face

It also fits with how unserious this season felt. So this season's winner deserves an unserious symbol

I've decided, actually. As the leader of the winner's symbolism council (/j) I've decided that Joel MUST be a car

Anyways, I need to go draw my seasonly drawing of the winner

#ramblings of a reader #traffic life series #traffic life spoilers #trafficblr #wild life smp #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans

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codiciarr · 9 months ago

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deal offer, you give me 1 cornchip and i give you 1 seasonly art of codi codiciar

#my art #codi art #mcyt #lifesteal #lifesteal fanart #lifesteal smp #spokeishere fanart #spokeishere #who cheered #finals is kicking my ass...so sorry

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rafesbunny · 6 months ago

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shy- r.c 🎀 part 3!!!

where rafe meets shy r at her dads business party

the night of your dads party when rafe left you alone on your balcony, engulfed by his big blazer, you sat there still for a while, unsure on how to process and to make of the sweet night you just had with kildares playboy. you decided the only way was to go to sleep and hopefully wake up and have forgotten about the whole thing, and you could blame the way he made your heart flutter on the drinks you had. as you made your way back outside where the party was still in full blast despite the time, you took off the jacket and draped it over your arm. you approached your dad, who was talking to some old friends, and let him know you were going to bed and that you were pretty tired. “okay sweetheart. is that rafes blazer?” he pointed at the heavy material hanging off your arm. “oh yeah, he left of it behind, i’ll find a way of giving it back to him” you said sweetly, reaching up to give your father a kiss on the cheek and a respective smile to the people he was talking to. “good girl, have a good sleep”. and you made your way to your bedroom, peeling off your dress, and sighing with relief feeling like your face could finally breath when you removed your makeup. you were out like a light as soon as your face hit your silky pillow.

sure enough, your plan to sleep off the night worked… to some extent. you had no recollection of hanging up his blazer in your wardrobe however those butterflies were stubbornly still flittering about in your stomach. perhaps it was the drinks from the previous night, but the thought of you having feelings for rafe was making you feel queazy. he was everything you were against, and you knew if you tried to peruse anything it would lead you to get heartbroken and most likely everyone would know and you would be embarrassed. you tried to tell yourself, you couldn’t just like him just because the one time you spoke to him he was relatively nice before. you’re only feeling this way because it’s the first time a boy has given you this attention and it feels nice to be noticed. yes that was it. that was what you were going to tell yourself. what was it people said? if you tell yourself a lie so much you start to believe it yourself and it think it is real.

it was a few days later and still constantly throughout the days you found your mind wondering back onto the topic of rafe cameron. and it really didn’t help when you were having your seasonly clear out of your clothes and came across the blazer he lovingly wrapped around you in the crisp night breeze. you sat there on your floor with it in your hands debating whether or not to give it back to him. on one hand, he has many blazers, so what’s the harm of keeping it. but on the other hand, if you had given someone your jacket and they didn’t give it back because they believed you had lots of them anyways, you would be disheartened. at this point you were starting to argue with yourself, your mind in turmoil, about why you shouldn’t go and give it back to him, too scared to face the boy when sober. after what felt like eternity, you came to conclusion to give it back, but you didn’t have his number so you just had to cross everything that he would be at his house. as you left the house you called out, that you were going out.

as you approached, tannyhills luxury doors, your heart started to tense and your throat felt like it was tightening, but with a harsh swallow you knocked on the doors. your foot anxiously tapped against the marble step waiting for someone to open it. you couldn’t tell if you were relieved or more nervous when rafe was the one to greet you. losing the ability to speak you blankly stared up at the broad man in front of you, who broke the silence. “hey bun, thought i would never see you again,” he smirked but still you didn’t even blink, now a little more creeped out by your silence and impressively not even blinking, he asked, “you, erm, need anything?” slowly you blinked and snapped out of your trance, “oh- er- yes- your blazer- you left it! here!” you squeaked while grabbing it from your bag holding it out arms length in front of you, ready for the boy to take. “thanks girl” he lightly chuckled at your shy behaviour, and you quickly scurried away, mumbling something about being sorry you didn’t give it back sooner. “hey bunny!” he called out after you, causing you to stop dead still and turn around to face him again, “what did i tell you about all that apologising, huh?” you still didn’t say anything, causing rafe to looking down smiling at your predictable behaviour, “i’ve- im hosting a party friday, you should come. it will be fun” he added. you were totally taken aback, but in true you fashion, you quickly nodded and went back to speed walking back to your house. you can’t believe you spoke to the rafe cameron again, and he invited you to his party!

part 4??? 💓🎀

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scorpioracha · 1 year ago

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Dating Seokjin

I really hope you guys enjoy this one! I spent the better part of the day writing it and Jin has a special place in my heart as one of my first biases so yeah. Y’all know the vibes, reblog,like,comment and come yell at me if you enjoy it they’re really appreciated and encourage me to keep writing♡

김 석진 Kim Seokjin

-you and Jin met while you were working at a bakery in myeongdeong. It wasn’t your dream job but it payed the bills, especially during rush hour. Extra people meant extra tips, and working the morning rush didn’t seem so bad when the line was packed full of people with Chanel bags and Rolexes, you’re even sure you saw a Mercedes parked out front…

-So you were no stranger to slapping a smile on your face and putting on the charm for some extra won in your tip jar—you even decorated it seasonly—dedicated to the craft,born to the breed…this was not your first rodeo working customer service and from the looks of rent and textbooks it wouldn’t be your last

-When a handsome man walks in you weren’t even phased. You looked him straight in the eyes and asked him for his order. Then asked if he was okay because the pause in between was getting a bit awkward and there were more customers.

“You don’t know who I am”he mumbled, seemingly shocked. You just held back an eye roll strong enough to cause an earthquake and smiled again. Rich people.

“No, am I supposed to?”

-this caused the most heinous laughter you have ever heard and he recovered enough to say he wanted an iced americano and whatever you thought was best. Trying not to side eye him for wasting your time and causing the other customers to get antsy, you recommended him a slice of vanilla cheesecake and he laughed again, questioning if it was too early for cake. You couldn’t help yourself but to laugh too because his was quite something and you just winked at him and promised not to tell.

-you were understaffed that day—as usual, so you also got his order ready. You sent him on his way with a bow and a cake pop snuck in there cause no one really made you laugh on the job. And he left you with a hefty tip that felt like robbery.

-you thought that was the last you’d see of him. Until you started seeing him everywhere. Billboards,tv shows,magazines,posters—hell the bakery even had a poster of his band up in the coming month. You were sure it was him, those lips didn’t just belong to anyone.

-you found yourself looking for him during the morning rush but to no avail, he wasn’t there. He was everywhere else around you though and it drove you crazy. Your squeaky laughed paramour seemed to be gone with the wind.

-until your shift got changed sometime near December. With finals upcoming you needed the mornings to sleep and study, so now you worked closing.

-your first day on closing was similar to any other closing shift. Busy from 4-6pm and then dead the rest of the night. It was peaceful in a way, less tips but between customers you got to relax.

-Until he came in. He was wearing a mask and a hat and bundled up in about a million coats but it was him, you knew it. You had learned his name was Seokjin from your research(stalking) and maybe you were having hallucinations from your third espresso but there he was, staring at you with those beautiful eyes. Then he said the unexpected.

“Ya!”he exclaimed, ripping off his scarf. “Where have you been?! I’ve been coming here every night for the past three months! Do you not work the night shift?! Has nobody told you??”

You furrowed your brows, that’s not what you were expecting. “You could have come during the day time!”you argued. “If you knew I wasn’t here at night, why didn’t you come during the day?!”

“Because I can’t come during the day!”he argued back. By this point his jacket had been hung over a chair and his mask was pulled down on his chin. Damn. It was hard to argue with a man with those lips…

“…and I’ve been sneaking around like a creep looking for you—are you even listening??”

You blinked once. Then twice. Then found yourself laughing again like you had all those months ago. Who new a meetcute in July could make an argument in December

feel like a first date.

“You said you’ve been looking for me?”you said, looking at him with mirth in your eyes. He nods, his own eyes still wide from his ranting and his cheeks pink from adjusting to the warmth.

“I..yes, I just-I just couldn’t get you out of my head”he explained, “I’m at a point in my life where it feels like everyone thinks they know me. It was just refreshing to meet somebody without them having a million and one ideas of who they think I am”

You nod. “Well, I know your name now because who doesn’t, but you’re right, I don’t know you”

“Would you like to?”he asked.

“I would.”

And it was history from there. A slightly bumpy history.

-“do I get a kiss if I say today is my birthday?”

“You can get a slap”

-You two did in fact meet again on his birthday and after making sure(asking to see his ID) you celebrated with a slice of vanilla cheesecake and a candle that was half broken you found somewhere in the break room.

-this all happened in 2016. As the group grew and their popularity, your relationship definitely needed to adjust accordingly. Bang PD was less than thrilled by Jin getting himself into a relationship but one thing we know about Jin is that he’s stubborn🤡 so there was no way he was losing that fight

-you had to adjust to seeing him less earlier on when they were still making a name for themselves. But that didn’t stop you from packing up the pastries at the end of the and hauling them off to the boys at the dance studio. With a little scolding from Hobi that they were going to get cramps eating all these sweets, they were all very grateful.

-But Jin being the man he is made sure to stop in while you were working too. Mainly at night but on the random chance they got a break he’d come in the mornings and hang out in the kitchen, where you had been promoted to part time baker. Usually he brought you breakfast and coffee which you always scolded him for because you worked in a literal bakery but he’d just scold

you back claiming he hasn’t seen you eat a vegetable in weeks. And no it didn’t count if it was in a croissant.

-may or may not have told everyone he knows about the bakery and it may or may not have turned into an idol hotspot.

-don’t be too mad at him he just wants to support his girl😭

-outside of work for both of you guys Jin is pretty…quiet. You hadn’t expected it when you first started dating but that’s just because his guard was still up. Now that you’re happily settled into your relationship he doesn’t feel the need to be on around you. He doesn’t have to make you laugh,be world wide handsome or loud. He could be quiet and soft and wear cute pajama sets while playing his maplestory.

-sometimes he was so quiet in the house you forgot he was there. The world wouldn’t believe it if you paid them a thousand dollars but this knowledge was nice. Something that the world didn’t need to know, that you could keep for yourself.

For yourself and six other boys.

-they did have Jin first and honestly the first time you met them you always shit your pants. God they could be intimidating when they’re sussing someone out, especially Jimin. The hyung line liked you just fine but it did take a while to gain the Maknae’s trust. They’ve never seen Jin date or even think about dating so they were skeptical. Jin was the oldest and therefore a pseudo parent for the rest of the members, so you coming into the picture was different.

-but you’re you so how could you not win them over?

-the once hesitant maknae’s cling to your side whenever you’re at Hybe. Sometimes you swear you see them more than Jin.

“Y/n, let’s go shopping!”

“Y/n, have you seen x y and x?”

“Y/n, Taehyung hit me!”

And so forth.

-the hyung’s enjoyed your presence just as much. Yoongi was relieved someone else could take over as mom—he liked to joke that you two were the real parents of this band. Hobi would laugh at a bottle cap falling so you crack him tf up and namjoon our responsible leader is happy that his members are happy.

(He’s just trying to look cool, you two go on museum outings and have a book swap you do together)

Jin bits!✨tid bits about you and Jin✨

-every anniversary you guys start it off by having some form of vanilla cake in bed. His always with a candle on it.

-he always keeps a hoodie and a blanket in his car because this is not a kdrama and you are not getting a jacket because he’s cold too🙄

-you guys moved in together around your third year of dating, starting off in an apartment near myeongdeong for your job, but now y’all live in a house on the outskirts of Seoul

-if it’s not takeout, you most likely cooked the food for eat Jin. Can he cook? Yes. Does he cook when you’re around? Not unless you ask.

-you guys have so many matching pajama sets

-he cried when you said he wasn’t your bias. Fucking acting school😒

-you now own so much RJ merch it’s actually ridiculous and you asked him to stop bringing so many RJs home. The answer was no🤡

-after years of working your way up the ladder you own the bakery now! Jin wants to retire you because he doesn’t believe princesses need to work but you grew to actually the enjoy the job when you were no longer working cash register.

-his nickname for you is 공주님(princess)

NSFW

-idk y’all but Jin is giving me heavy experimentalist vibes. I think he’s less into the d/s side of bdsm and more into the bondage and the s/m side. He’s got clear limits but since your relationship is established and he trusts you so much he’s willing to try anything once within those limits.

-he also is the type to set the mood for these kinds of play. A spare room in the house with dark curtains,silk sheets and a chest full of all different types of things. He doesn’t really care who’s in charge in bed, that’s not really his aim. It could go either way for him.

-Jin’s kinda play is expensive. It’s nothing but the best for you, for both of you. He’s not one to flaunt his wealth but he’s always been a quality kind of guy. Your paddles? Leather,imported,small business. Your hand cuffs? Stainless steel and cushioned. Spanking bench? Cherry oak wood with velvet cushions baby. You’ve got matching harnesses in pink and white because of course something in here was going to be pink.

-he’s kinda just down for the ride. It’s that Sagittarius sun. You wanna tie him up? Cool. You want him to tie you up? Cool. You want to choke him? He’s down. His limits are around sharp pain and bodily fluids, besides cum because he’s very much so a much when prompted

-you better be ready though because when you get Seokjin in the right mood he is fucking until the sun comes up. This is usually when you’ve both been at an event—always his plus one—and there’s too many wandering eyes and not enough champagne. He’s surprisingly very possessive which you never would have clocked until it was prompted. So yeah he’s not one for sharing.

-he also does not breathe a word of your sex life to the boys or any other friend and he expects the same from you.

-lets just say that condom scandal held truth. because mans right here is packing the punisher. He got the back breaker, the cervix splitter 9000, you gotta be big and bad enough to ride this ride and you definitely are.

-as a trained actor one thing about Jin is he can embody a role. You want a mean dom? He can give you mean dom(after he’s done so so much research because he never wants to hurt you in a way that you don’t like). He can have you on the floor begging on your hands and knees tied to the leg of a chair like a mutt just to hump his shoe, when earlier that day homie was shuffling around the house in bunny slippers and an RJ headband. The duality with this one was crazy.

-he could also be tied up to the headboard of the bed begging you with tears in his eyes to just sink down on his cock and stop teasing him. Pretty pink harness on with pink padded cuffs to match. You know Seokjin and his love for pink, pink hair,pink microphone,pretty pink dick, just the basics yk?

-on the flip side if y’all aren’t in the play room, you’re getting your back blown out on your fluffy comfy king sized bed. It’s passionate, it’s sensual and it’s light hearted because one thing about Jin is he gonna laugh. One of you is gonna make a weird sound and he’s going to try so hard not to laugh, he really is, cause he’s balls deep and now is not the time but you guys make eye contact and it’s over. He’s fucking gone trying so hard to calm himself down.

Sometimes it ruins the moment but most of the time you’re able to pick up where you left off.

-all and all, Jin my first bias that wasn’t a leader, be throwing down in them sheets

#bts x reader #bts headcanons #bts reactions #bts kim seokjin #kim seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin headcanon #bts jin x reader #bts dating series #bts #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts drabble #bts fanfction

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amiserableseriesofevents · 1 month ago

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Wherever you find love (it feels like Christmas)

24 Clegan Christmas drabbles for 24 days!

Prompt from here (but randomized)

[Day 1] [Day 2] [Day 3] [Day 4] [Day 5] [Day 6] [Day 7] [Day 8] [Day 9] [Day 10] [Day 11]

[Read on AO3]

Day 12: Hot bath

Modern AU, wc 1463

It’s raining something thick that will soon become snow when John lets himself inside him and Gale’s flat, his fingers and the tip of his nose utterly frozen. His hair is damp, droplets of almost snow clinging to his curls, and he’s shivering pretty badly.

“Buck?” He calls, even if he already knows from the silence in the apartment that the other man is not there; if he was, he’d certainly be all over him by now, scolding him because he forgot his hat and gloves once again, pressing a cup of tea in freezing hands and a kiss to the red tip of his nose.

John shrugs off his sheepskin, the only reason why he hasn’t turned into an ice sculpture along the road today, and rubs his hands together to get some feeling back to them, grinning happily even through the shivers; he’d love if Gale was here, of course, but his absence right now means John can indulge in his favorite guilty pleasure. He hurries to their master bathroom, the one with the bathtub that has been an absolute selling point for him when they got the flat and Gale didn’t get the sense of — because he doesn’t know about John’s guilty pleasure. He takes off his cold clothes, shoves them in the laundry basket, then lets the water in the bathtub run until it’s so hot it’s hurting his frozen fingertips. Then he plugs the tub and opens his secret compartment in the cabinet where he keeps all the good stuff.

The first thing he pulls out is a gingerbread scented bubble bath, and when he pours a generous amount of it in the hot water it immediately starts creating a beautiful, fluffy foam, the spicy smell of ginger slowly filling the air. Then he picks up a huge candle and sniffs it deeply before lighting it up; it smells of sugar cookies and anyone else would think it clashes with the tang of gingerbread but for John it’s the best combination ever.

He rummages through his cabinet to look for something else he’d like to add to his Christmas bath; there are more candles, a candy cane shaped bath bomb he picks up and considers for a few seconds before deciding to keep it for an even more rainier day, a gingerbread scented shampoo he places on the side of the foam filled tub, and a reindeer night lamp he plugs in to enhance the Christmas vibes. Then he starts a Christmas playlist on his phone, checking the time once more to assess how long his bath can last before Buck gets home; satisfied, he strips off his pants and slowly lowers himself in the water, hissing lightly at the hot sting against his cold skin.

The tub is wide and deep enough that he can sink in it until just his face is emerging from the surface, and he relaxes in the warm, sweet hug. He blows off some foam, smiles as he watches it fly around, then he lays his head back against the edge of the tub with a satisfied sigh, eyes closed as he basks in his private moment of coziness and joy.

It’s a thing that started when he was younger, his mom got him a pumpkin spice bath bomb as a gift for Thanksgiving and he didn’t know what to do with it, he found it kinda stupid to be honest. Then one day after a particularly grueling training he got home in a terrible mood and sore, and decided to have a hot bath to alleviate some of the strain on his muscles. The bath bomb was in the cabinet, looking at him inviting, and he thought why not, and put it in his bath water.

His life hasn’t been the same ever since. He’s discovered he loves this kind of stuff, relaxing in a hot tub with seasonly scented soaps and candles; it’s silly, he knows it, that’s why he hasn’t shared it with anyone else, not even with Buck. He loves him oh so much, but he knows Gale doesn’t like wasteful things so he’d absolutely disapprove of John’s decadent habit — not that he does it often enough to cause a considerable waste of water, and his usual showers are definitely shorter. But he wouldn’t like it, and John doesn’t want to lose his secret moment of peace, so he’s always kept quiet.

Buck has seen his cabinet once, when it was stacked with Halloween themed stuff, but John has promptly lied and told him they were for his sister. He’s not sure if Buck actually believed it but he hasn’t spoken about it since, so John figures he’s in the clear.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas, make the Yuletide gay, his music crones in the background as John inhales deeply the smell of cookies wafting in the air. Next year all our troubles will be far away.

John smiles; that’s his favorite Christmas song, and Buck’s too even if he lies and says he hates them all. It’s the only one he’s ever convinced him to dance along to during the first Christmas they spent together, and they weren’t even a couple yet back then, just friends — both already head over hills for each other, but too shy to actually do something about it. Now it’s one of their Christmas traditions: every year on Christmas Day once everyone else’s gone and they’ve tidied up their place, before falling asleep on the couch to a Christmas movie John puts on their song on the recorder and they slow dance in their living room — after all these years, sometimes Gale even manages not to step even once on John’s toes.

He’s so lost in the sweet memories the song brings back to him he doesn’t even notice someone else’s singing softly along until it reaches the last verse, and he hears the smile in Buck’s voice as he crones so have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

John’s eyes shot open and he scrambles, grabbing the edges of the tub and turning to look at Gale who’s leaning against the open door and watches him, a soft light in his eyes. “Relaxed much?” He asks, his southern drawl lazy.

“I guess there’s no use in saying that’s not how it looks like”, John answers sinking deeper into the water, his cheeks feeling hot.

“The real question is, why are you acting like I just caught you cheating? D’ya have someone else hidden there beneath all that foam?” Gale inquires, the smile never leaving his face.

“Of course not,” John huffs. “I just didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Like what? All relaxed in a hot tub that smells like a bakery at Christmas?”

“I know you hate this kind of useless stuff,” John mumbles. “But I need it to decompress sometimes, and today I was so cold and drenched I couldn’t help myself.”

Gale steps closer, shrugging off his sweater and t-shirt. His blond hair is damp as well, curling softly at his temples and over his forehead. “Did you think I didn’t know about your secret stash?” He asks, amused. “It’s my bathroom as well, John. I happen to open the cabinets from time to time and let’s be honest, your sister’s not the type who likes this kind of stuff. But you are.”

“I am,” John nods. “And you’re not mad?”

Gale laughs at that, slowly taking off his trousers as well. “I don’t know why I thought I would be. If anything, I’m mad you still haven’t invited me to join you,” he says, arms crossed against his chest and his head cocked to the side, a teasing look in his eyes. “You’re always going on and on about how the tub is big enough for the both of us and now look at yourself, hogging it.”

John perks up, a different kind of heat now coursing through his body. “You still have too many clothes on to be invited here, Buck,” he says boldly but his breath itches when Buck, unfazed, strips off his underwear as well.

“Come over here,” John murmurs, his voice roughened up. Gale obliges, chuckling, and a pleased sigh leaves his lips when he lowers himself into the steaming water, sending some of it splashing on the floor. John’s hands find his waist under the surface and pull him closer, nestled between his spread legs until he can kiss his rosy cheeks. “You’re freezing,” he says, mouth skimming over the skin in a way that makes Gale shiver for something other than the cold.

“Good thing you’ve ran us the hottest bath that ever was, then,” Gale answers, breathless, before diving to capture John’s mouth with his own.

#clegan christmas drabbles #clegan #buck x bucky #mota #john egan #gale cleven #ginia writes #mota fanfic #masters of the air #buckbucky

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