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nadvs · 2 months

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cam girl (part five)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

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You were too tired to wake up to your alarm. You snoozed for an extra hour under a mountain of blankets, drifting in and out of consciousness.

When you finally feel ready to start your Sunday, it’s almost 10, and your mind slowly pieces together everything that happened last night.

Rafe has become your sugar daddy. There’s no doubt about it, no other word for it. At this point, you’re sure he’s given you almost ten grand.

You remain lying in bed and pick up your phone to see he texted you five minutes ago. After the $3000 transfer last night, you had quickly saved his number.

Rafe: sore?

You reply: as fuck.

Rafe: you loved it

You roll your eyes. Of course you loved it.

You think of the way he spoke to you, mumbling that you’re beautiful and praising the sounds you made. The way he thrusted into you and called your pussy so fucking perfect. The way his skin slapped against yours with his rough jolts. Remembering it makes your stomach twist with arousal.

You reply: so did you

Your phone buzzes again.

Rafe: send an ass pic

You: are you always horny?

Rafe: pretty much. woke up hard

You: and i’m the needy one… lmao

Rafe: are u sending it or not

You smile to yourself at how bad he wants you. You push the blankets off your body. You had fallen asleep in a cold room, your radiator refusing to come back to life no matter how hard you tried, so you’re covered head to toe under fleece pajamas.

The way Rafe reacted to your heat being broken replays in your mind. He seemed so dumbfounded by the idea that you couldn’t just fix something without worrying about the cost.

Then he sent you the exact amount you need to fix it. The fact that you can ask for however much you want and he’ll probably send it without hesitation still throws you for a loop. It’s an odd feeling not having to worry about money.

Thankfully, the morning sun has warmed up your bedroom. You pull your pants and underwear down in one smooth movement, turn onto your front and angle your phone camera.

You can smell Rafe on your pillow. The aroma of his cologne is so unbelievably nice, memories already connected to it.

You lie on your back again, pulling the blanket over you, and send him the photo, a low angle image of your naked asscheeks. You gaze at your screen, anticipating what he’ll say.

But he doesn’t send any words. Just a picture. Your eyes travel over the bulge making a tent in his black boxer briefs. You can see the trail of soft, light hair that leads down to his cock.

Your body tightens at the image. He felt so damn good last night. You can’t wait until the next time he’s inside you.

You text: wish u were here?

Rafe: i’d fuck u even harder than i did last night

You: you wouldn’t make me wait hours for it? wow…

Rafe: you’re so wet right now aren’t you

You can imagine the way he’d say that. He’s so smug. And so right. You dip a hand below the blanket between your legs, your soft folds drenched.

maybe, you reply.

Rafe: you took my cock so good

You bite your lip reading his words. The photo of his covered erection isn’t enough. You need more.

You: show me it

Rafe: you’d like that huh

You: i can just find some porn if you won’t do it

Rafe: don’t even fucking joke about getting off to some other guy’s dick

You smirk. You got to him like you hoped you would.

You: what? i can’t tease you too?

Rafe: no

You: send me a pic then. u know i deserve it

Rafe: only good girls deserve it

You: idk if good girls play with their pussies on camera… maybe i should stop doing that

Rafe: shut up. ur doing it for me every night

He’s so damn worked up that it’s funny. You shrug to yourself, opening another app, letting him sweat.

Your phone buzzes moments later, a notification from him dropping from the top of your screen.

Rafe: ???

You reply: you told me to shut up. i’m listening

He only texts your name.

You: rafe :)

A picture finally comes in. You take in the image of his dick, glad you finally have a chance to appreciate him in brighter lighting. The other photos that he sent over the cam chat were so dark, but now you can see the veins that run down his shaft, the swell of the tip, his large hand gripping the base.

You don’t think you could ever get tired of it.

You: am i allowed to touch myself?

Even through the power struggle between you two, you love giving him the control of when you can orgasm.

Rafe: if you promise me something

You: what?

Rafe: i can watch you play with your asshole tonight

Jesus. He’s unhinged. When he sent that message telling you that you’ll be doing a lot of new things with him, he wasn’t kidding.

The thought of doing this for him is stirring. None of the other guys on cam ever asked for anything like that.

You: i can do that

Rafe: get the toy i bought you. text when ur ready

You drop your phone and rush to find the vibrator, feeling like you’re throbbing now. When you’re all adjusted, you text him: ready.

Your breath hitches as the toy starts to buzz at a brutalizing intensity. You cross your legs, squeeze your chest, and groan as you think about him.

You orgasm within a minute. It feels good, but not as good as when Rafe is actually with you. With him, it’s a new level of ecstasy. Fuck. He may have ruined masturbation for you.

You pick up your phone.

You: might have to go back to sleep after that…

Your phone flashes a notification of $100 being transferred into your digital wallet.

Rafe: order breakfast for yourself

The amount he sent is ridiculous. What kind of place does he get breakfast from?

You doze off again, waking up half an hour later. After ordering food, you send Rafe a screenshot of the confirmation receipt and text: thanks baby <3

Rafe: did u call about the heat yet

You reply: i will

Rafe: do it now

You: bossy

Rafe: now

God, does he love to be in control. You follow his instructions and find the repair place you called last time and make an appointment to get your radiator replaced tomorrow afternoon.

It’s an unreal feeling - your problem being solved in the snap of a finger. This is a little taste of wealth.

You know not to read into it. Rafe’s not doing any of this of the kindness of his heart. Spoiling you is obviously one of the many things he gets off on. But you’re happy to go along with it. Especially considering $3000 is pocket change to this man.

When breakfast is dropped off, you notice a box addressed to you sitting in front of your door. You open it to find a new webcam. Rafe mentioned he’d buy it yesterday. He moves fast.

The day feels long and at 10 pm, you finally log on with the hope that Rafe will do what he did last night and come over instead of making you crave him throughout your session, leaving you to fuck yourself while fantasizing about him.

You’re wearing the ‘princess’ top you bought with his money, matching with pink underwear.

He joins the session and lust fires through you already.

“Hey,” you purr. “How’s the new camera look?”

figure8: much better

figure8 tipped you $100.

“What’s that for?” you giggle.

figure8: for looking so pretty

“Thanks, baby,” you say. “Is this pretty, too?”

You immediately turn onto your knees, looking back at the camera at the sight of your lace panties stretched over your ass.

figure8: goddamn

You smile.

figure8: you get me hard in a fucking second

“Yeah?” you coo. “Did you like my ass pic today?”

figure8: fuck yes. you ever done anal?

You laugh at how direct he is. You never have to wonder what Rafe’s thinking.

You hadn’t gone into that territory, but something about Rafe made you feel adventurous. “No, but maybe I’d try it with you.”

figure8: maybe?

“Depends on your mood,” you say.

figure8: the fuck does that mean

“I had to cum three times for you the other day. But yesterday, you wouldn’t let me do it for fucking hours.” You shrug. “If you make me wait that long again, you’re not getting anything.”

figure8: its honestly really fucking cute how you think you make the rules lol

“Shut up.”

figure8: im not getting anything… sure. i didnt let u cum all day but you were still begging me to fuck you last night

“I hate you,” you laugh.

figure8: you love me and this dick

figure 8: let me see you squeeze your ass

You’re so turned on already, resting your hands on your ass and kneading the flesh. You roam over your skin, fondling and grabbing, then move your fingers to the back of your thighs and bounce your asscheeks for him with your hands.

figure8: fuckkk just like that

“You like these panties?” you ask. The lace leaves nothing to the imagination.

figure8: i wanna see them ripped off

“These were expensive,” you pout.

figure8 tipped you $500.

figure8: there, you can buy more

“God, how much do you think they cost?” you laugh.

figure8: rip them off right now

You dip your fingers beneath the frilly border of the underwear and try to pull them apart. The lace digs into your skin and you finally hear a tear, the fabric giving way.

You watch your image in the screen, the pink lace pulling apart over your asscheeks.

figure8: shake ur ass

You oblige, arching your back, imagining him sitting behind you, big hands on your waist while you writhe and bounce for him.

figure8: let me see ur asshole

The request is probably the most obscene thing he’s ever asked of you. But you like that he does this, that he pushes you into new experiences.

You’re shaking with arousal as you watch yourself obey his orders, spreading open for him.

figure8: holy fucking shit

figure8: i know you’d loooove it up the ass

figure8: get close so i can see you suck on your finger

You’re puzzled at the request, but you obey anyways, turning to face the screen. You shift closer to your laptop and seductively stick your forefinger into your hot mouth, sucking it with quiet moans.

You’re reminded of how he shoved his finger in your mouth last night. Shit, last night was perfect.

figure8: is it nice and wet?

“Mhm.”

figure8: wanna put that finger in your ass for me?

You bite your lip, apprehension inching up your skin. He seems to notice your nervousness.

figure8: nice and slow, baby. you can do it

You nod, turning to spread your ass for him again, then slowly push your digit into your tight hole. You breathe through the pressure, dipping each inch of your finger in with caution, finding pleasure in the new sensation.

figure8: hows it feel?

“Good,” you breathe. You sit up to grab the lube in your nightstand that you bought when you started camming and sit in front of the camera, opening the bottle.

“You want me to try two fingers?” you ask.

figure8: fuck yes

You squeeze the slippery liquid onto your forefinger and middle finger and get onto all fours, angling your ass towards the camera.

When you slip both fingers inside, you arch your back and breathe shakily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you enter your body in a new way for him.

As hot as it is to be doing this for him, now that you’ve had a taste of what it’s like having his body melt into yours, you need him. This just isn’t satisfying enough anymore.

figure8: u like that?

“Mhm,” you moan. “Maybe it’d be better if I try with the dildo?”

You get the reaction you were hoping for.

figure8: the first dick in that ass isn’t gonna be some toy. it’ll be mine, you understand?

“Okay,” you say, brows furrowed, a tone of disappointment in your voice.

figure8: you want it tonight, don’t you?

“Yeah, baby,” you whimper, writhing in anticipation. “I want it tonight.”

figure8 tipped you $1000.

figure8 has left the session.

You smirk to yourself. It seems like this’ll be your and Rafe’s special version of foreplay. Maybe you’ll always begin with a cam show he pays you for, the same way you two started this wild affair, and then he’ll race over and have his way with you.

You decide to pull off your shirt so you can greet him fully naked.

When you hear his knock at the door, your skin prickles with anticipation. Rafe comes in frenzied, slamming the door behind him, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you back into your bedroom.

“Already naked for me,” he rasps, standing in the middle of your bedroom, holding you, towering over you. “My needy girl.”

“Don’t make me wait any longer, then,” you whisper.

Rafe guides you onto your bed, hovering over top of you, his lips hungrily kissing and sucking on your mouth over and over.

With your back against your sheets, you roll your body beneath his, the sensation of his jeans and t-shirt rubbing on your bare skin wildly sexy.

You swear you can feel his cock jerk under his jeans and you breathe out a contented sigh.

“What?” he asks, pulling back with his forehead still pressed against yours.

“Your cock is twitching,” you tease, slipping your hand under his shirt to feel his hot skin. You pull his shirt off and toss it onto the floor.

Rafe lifts his body slightly and dips his hand between your legs, making you sharply inhale as he spreads your lips apart.

“And you’re so fucking wet,” he replies, like he’s trying to one-up you. You shudder as his fingers run up and down your slit.

He brings his hand up to suck on the tips of his fingers, hard eyes on you, and you feel like you might lose your mind over how hot the shared moment is.

“You taste so good,” he says, voice rough. He comes back down to kiss you hard, then shifts to put his mouth on your tits.

You jerk when he grazes a nipple with his teeth, a moan spilling out of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling him pinch and grip you.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk,” Rafe says against your cleavage. “You want that?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

“My good girl,” he praises. You hear him fumbling with his jeans, the zipper slipping down quickly, and he plunges into you with no warning, with such a rough blow that you whimper.

You feel your body swallow his thickness, stretching to adjust to his size. He curves into you so perfectly.

Rafe pulls back and rocks into you again, your body jolting with his pressure. His chest is pressed against yours and he shifts to the side to put his hand at your throat, long fingers around your neck.

He squeezes gently, still pounding into you.

“Tighter,” you whisper.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says with a breathy laugh, like he can’t believe that you exist, that you’re taking him like this.

His fingers tighten on the sides of your neck as the sound of smacking flesh fills your bedroom. You grunt with every heavenly pump he gives you, his balls swinging against your ass.

“You take it so good,” he breathes. You tilt your head back, letting his big hand grip your neck better. You’re so grateful he didn’t torment you by making you wait this time.

“Get on top,” Rafe groans into your ear, drawing out of you. “I wanna watch you ride me.”

His hands find your hips as he helps pull you over him. With your palms against his firm pecs, you sink onto him, his cock hitting a new angle.

“Fuck,” you choke out. “Oh, my God, Rafe.”

“You like that, huh, baby?” he says, dimples framing his cocky smile.

You start to bounce with your legs bent and framing his torso, leaning forward so your clit rubs around the base of his cock. The feeling of him filling you and the friction against your sensitive spot makes your eyes roll back in your head.

Your heart starts to pound harder as you massage yourself with his dick, grinding at the perfect pace. You look down at him, meeting his blue eyes, as you roll your hips so you can feel him in every possible way.

You dip your head, panting and moaning as he grips your hips. You’ve never wanted to scream from pleasure so badly.

“I know, princess,” he drawls. “I know it feels good.”

The waves of pleasure are so damn nice that you moan and cover your mouth with your hand so your neighbors don’t hear how loud you’re being.

Rafe roughly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand down.

“Don’t do that,” he instructs.

“My neighbors-“

“Let ‘em hear how much you love this dick,” he says. You feel like you could cum from his words alone.

“F-fuck,” you stammer, grinding faster and harder. “Oh, fuck.”

“You gonna cum?” he teases. A part of you is afraid he’ll push himself out of you, delay your orgasm.

“Please let me,” you whine, “please, baby.”

“I’ll let you,” Rafe says with an amused chuckle. “God, you’re my fucking dream girl.”

The pleasure spikes in you so damn high that you feel your limbs go numb. You cry out as you dissolve into pleasure in its purest form, continuing to ride him as the orgasm hits you, tightening around him in pulses.

“There you go,” he says soothingly, encouragingly.

You bend over on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest, hearing his heart in your ear. Rafe’s warm hand strokes up and down your back as you spasm on top of him.

As your gasps slow down, his hands find your ass. He jiggles your cheeks in his hands and you giggle breathily.

“You gonna let me cum in that ass?” he asks you.

“You can cum anywhere you want,” you breathe, feeling cockdrunk. Rafe’s chest rumbles with his laugh.

You sit up and slowly pull yourself off of him, his hard cock bobbing once it’s out of you.

Even though you’re sure you already made his cock wet enough, you hand him the bottle of lube before getting on all fours on your bed. You look back at him to see him slathering his cock with lube.

“I’ll go slow, princess,” he promises. “I’ll stretch you out first.”

You squeeze your pillow and place it so that you can sink your face into it as he fucks you. With your head dug into the soft cotton, you feel Rafe’s big hands grope your ass.

He spreads your cheeks apart and groans.

“Every part of you is so pretty,” he huffs. “You gonna take my cock in any hole I want, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you moan, muscles still weak from your orgasm.

You feel a finger slowly enter you and you arch your back, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so new but so fucking nice. The pressure is higher than when you did it on camera for him, his finger bigger than yours.

“There you go,” he coaches as he pushes deeper inside of you. “Shit, it’s so fucking tight. I’m gonna cum in a second, baby, I know it.”

“Fuck, Rafe,” you mumble. “It feels amazing.”

He adds a second finger, working in and out to stretch you out some more. You push back against his fingers to encourage him to go deeper.

“I want to fuck your ass so hard right now,” he groans on the verge of a whine.

“Do it,” you say. “I’m ready. Do it.”

His fingers pull out of you and you feel him spit on you, warm saliva dribbling over your opening. Finally, you feel the tip of his cock start to push into your ass.

The pressure stings as he buries into you and you try not to slump, you try to stay firm for him.

“Oh, my God,” he moans as he fills you. “Fucking… Oh, my fuck…”

His raw, untamed rambling gives you a sense of willpower to stay still and ignore your body’s impulse to pull away from the unfamiliar pain.

Rafe finally presses his base against your ass, filling your hole up completely.

He retreats, giving you some relief, then pounds into you again. The feeling is a good pain as he starts to thrash in and out, his fingers so tight on your hips that you know he’ll bruise you.

He pulls away a hand and you suddenly feel a hard smack on your ass that makes you gasp. He keeps fucking you hard, plunging in and out with a frenzied pace.

“You like it, princess?” he says between breaths. “You like it up the ass? I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” you groan, the feeling pleasurable now that you’re getting used to it. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“It’s not just your pussy that’s mine, is it?” he taunts. “It’s your ass. Your mouth. Your tits. All of you. Fucking all of you.”

His claim of ownership on you is so fucking intoxicating that you almost forget all this is supposed to be is hot, casual sex.

You push away the thought, refusing to let it ruin things. This is just fun. This is all this is.

“Goddamn, and you were just…” he groans as he keeps fucking you. “You were just… fuck, just always around and looking so fucking hot. I never thought I’d get to fuck you.”

You bite your lip at his words, lost in the feeling of a man wanting you this bad. Of Rafe wanting you this bad. You knew he loved to tease you, but shit, he was yearning for you this much whenever you came to clean his house?

“Oh, fuck…” Rafe’s deep voice gives out as you feel him pulse his hot cum into you, his body jerking against you.

He eventually slowly pulls out and you feel his hand slowly rub over the curve of your ass.

“Stay like this,” he says. “I wanna watch my cum drip out of you.” Just when you think he can’t get any filthier, Rafe surprises you. Every damn time.

Once he’s satisfied, you feel him plant a kiss on your ass before he shifts away to put on his underwear.

Your smile is slack as you drop onto your side, hand resting on your forehead. You feel utterly fucked out. He didn’t lie. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You watch his chest rise and fall when he lies down next to you.

Again, Rafe surprises you that he’s staying, even if it’s just a little while. He seems like such a fuck and chuck kind of guy. It’s what you expected. Kind of what you welcomed.

He looks at you, amused by how hard you’re gasping for breath.

“Damn, you won’t even need your heat on tonight, huh?” Rafe says. “Gave you a whole fucking workout.”

“If it’ll be like this every night, I’ll cancel,” you joke lazily.

“Cancel?”

“Mhm,” you say tiredly, eyes closing.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

He says your name stern enough that you pop open your eyes.

“I’ll cancel the appointment,” you clarify.

“They didn’t already fix it?”

“Tomorrow was the soonest they could do.” His brows furrow in what looks like anger. You can’t help but chuckle a little. “What’s the big deal?”

“So, you spend another night cold?”

“It’s not that bad,” you say. “I have lots of blankets… and…” You yawn. “A space heater… and… my pajamas…”

You realize you’re lying on top of a thin sheet completely naked but you’re too exhausted to care that you’ll wake up cold. It’s like Rafe fucked the energy out of you.

“I have to lock the door behind you,” you remember. You sit up, rubbing your eyes so you stay alert. “I don’t know if you realized but this isn’t a gated community.”

“Should I… uh, do you want a hotel room or something?” Rafe asks.

You look at him, his head on your pillow, his hair a mess, and offer him a confused smile.

“Hotel?” you repeat.

“If it’s gonna be cold in here.”

“Oh, that radiator has broken a million times,” you say. “I’ve survived a lot of cold nights. I don’t need a penthouse suite.”

Rafe gazes at you with an indistinguishable look.

You feel a bit awkward now. You know he’ll leave eventually, but if he doesn’t do it now, you’ll pass out and he’ll leave the door unlocked.

You stand to keep yourself awake, finding a clean pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt.

“Same time tomorrow?” you try to joke.

“I can stay and…” he says. He sits up, his hair falling over his forehead, his stomach flexing. “Uh, I can… hold you. If you want. So you’re not cold.”

You stand in the middle of your small room, looking down at Rafe, and can’t help but notice how out of place he looks. His large, half-naked frame on your small double bed, his expensive clothes drawn out on your squeaky, scratched up floor, offering to cuddle you to sleep.

This is supposed to be purely sexual. You’ve been having fun and adding to your bank account, while letting him live out his fantasies to sexually and financially dominate the help. That’s all you are to him: a depraved cam girl who cleans his house. Right?

But now, he’s acting… well, nice. Like he’s not just a fuck buddy who gets turned on by giving you money and buying you things. And it’s unexpected.

You’re not sure what to do.

{ read part six here }

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kyluff · 4 months

Text

— ↺ ‘When He Eat The Cookie He Got Good Form’

✎ luffy + zoro + sanji x reader !

✦ summary ➠ one piece men eating you out blurbs

✦ warnings ➠ nsfw, cunnilingus, swearing, almost getting caught

✦ note ➠ 3000+ LIKES ON MY CLINGY GOJO POST?!? thats actually insane, I’m so happy thank you for all the support 😨🫶

✪ Monkey D. Luffy

— You felt shaking, hands were on you and vigorously pushing and pulling you. Your eyes weren’t open yet, they couldn’t, you were just sleeping a few seconds ago and now you were being rudely awaken. Keeping your eyes closed, you called out for your boyfriend.

“What, what is it Luffy?” You sighed, shoving your face further in the blanket, trying to go back to the time when you were still sound asleep. “It’s still nighttime, go back to bed.”

He whined out, nuzzling his face in your neck. “But I’m hungry.”

Of course he is, you shook your head in annoyance. “That’s what you woke me up for? Wait and eat in the morning like the rest of us.”

Luffy licked your cheek, leaving heavy and warm breaths on it. He always was so impatient when he wanted something, especially when hunger was what he wanted. “But I cant.”

You were shocked, you really shouldn’t be though, he was obsessed with food to point where it was slightly unhealthy. You forcefully shoved his face away from you, making him fall on his side of the bed. “Well too bad, now go to sleep.”

“I can’t, not when I’m so hungry.” He huffed out, sounding defeated by his own words, at least it seemed like he was done with this stunt. But you felt bad a little bit, if he was so hungry that he couldn’t even sleep, then that’s an issue.

“If you’re really that hungry go to the kitchen.” That was the final thing you were going to say, now you were for real going to sleep.

You felt him shuffling beside you and the bed swaying from his movement. It melt like he was moving down the bed, making it to the foot of it. You ignored him, just wanting this to be over.

He disappeared under to covers for a minute, lifting your leg and placing himself between them. “Why would I go to the kitchen? My foods already right here.”

For the first time that night your eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to adjust to the environment. You reached in the dark for the light, turning it on and removing the cloth that separated the two of you, bLuffy was there, resting his cheek on your thigh. He had a lazy and goofy smile on his face like he always did, but his eyes were different. His eyes stared into your soul, hunger definitely evident in his gaze.

“Oh,” That’s all you could say, you had just been waken and had to face this. “You’re that type of hungry.”

The man between your limbs nodded eagerly, relieved that you had finally understood him. He had awoken in the middle of the night and the feeling washed over him, he couldn’t sleep after that, he needed you.

“Well, eat then.” That’s all it took for him rip off your shorts and underwear, revealing you to him. You could never deny your boyfriend, even if it was so late, not when he looked so longingly up at you.

He delve in instantly, not being able to wait any longer. His mouth was wide open against your folds, sucking and nudging them how ever he wished. Luffy didn’t focus on anywhere in particular when he ate you out, he liked to pay attention to every part of you down there, making it a messy operation, your juices spread across his face and everywhere on your thighs.

“Oh-h, so good.” This session Luffy seemed to really want it, he was licking so aggressively and tugged harshly at your lips. You weren’t complaining, the pleasure was almost unbearable.

It wasn’t till he placed a bite on your clit that you felt the beginnings of your end. He’s never done this before, but the new found trick brought you dangerously close to your climax.

“Do it again!” You pleaded, wanting to feel that same sensation from before. And he listened, using his canine to squish your bud, he lapped at the same spot to soothe it. You came undone, Luffy crawled up your body and dropped onto your chest, you noticed he had a soft grin on his face.

“You really were hungry, huh?” Your fingers started playing and twirling mindlessly with his hair.

“Mhm.” He hummed, closing his eyes from the comfort he received at the mercy of your hands. You too shut your eyes, being able to sleep again.

✪ Roronoa Zoro

— If there was one thing you knew about your boyfriend, it was how much he liked eating pussy. He’d eat it from the back, he’d eat it in sixty nine, he’d eat in the shower. He would literally do it anywhere at anytime. A position he hadn’t tried though was you sitting on his face.

So right now, he decided that you were going to sit on his face, but you were having some difficulty with that. You hovered over his awaiting mouth, using the headboard of the bed to hold yourself up.

“Sit on my face already.” He wrapped his buff arms around your thighs, attempting to pull you down on his face.

“Z-Zoro, don’t you think I’ll be to heavy?” You quivered, not letting him win the tug of war you were having.

“Don’t care,” The greened haired man loosened his grip, letting you raise slightly. “Just want to taste you.”

You bit your lip, thinking about how desperate his expression looked, you could tell he really wanted this and who were you to deny? You reluctantly lowered yourself closer to his face, making sure not to have your whole weight on him.

His lips chased yours, coming up to meet your dripping core where it was above him. He slowly made out with it, messily sucking and slurping. He quickly shook his face in your heat, spreading the juices he has created.

“Fucking come here.” His words were muffled against your skin as he forced you to fully sit down on his face. Your cheeked flushed in embarrassment, worrying if you were to much for your boyfriend to bare. You tried to get off, but the strong arms on your legs kept you in place.

“Zoro!” You whimpered, grasp tightening on the wooden frame.

He only carried on, now comfortable with the position you were in, nice and snug to his face. His tongue worked quick and tight circles on your bud, not stopping until he heard a moan rip from your vocal cords.

You glanced down on him through your droopy eyes, he was also looking up at you. His eyes always stood out to you, they were always stern and fierce, staring right through you.

He kept eye contact with you as he face moved deeper into you, his nose becoming smaller in size. Your stomach did flips in response, contracting as you felt tingling down there.

He smiled into you, he could see how much you liked sitting on his face, and to think on how you were so against it before.

His grin became bigger as he noticed how close you were, this might be the quickest he’s ever made you come.

Picking up his pace, he pushed you over the edge until you came undone onto his smushed face. “How do you like the new position now?”

✪ Vinsmoke Sanji

— You were becoming very annoyed at your boyfriends current antics, he’s been at it for what it felt like hours now. You sat on a chair in the kitchen, attempting to enjoy the beautiful meal that Sanji had prepared for you. That task was almost impossible though, due to the man that was positioned at your feet in front your chair.

“For the tenth time, Sanji, the answer is no.” You huffed out, stabbing another piece of food with your fork.

“Please, Y/n! Just one taste!” He begged, smushing his blushing face against your exposed knee. You had decided to wear a skirt today as it was very warm outside, it seemed to have an affect on the blonde man.

“I’m trying to eat, can’t you wait until I’m at least finished?” You wiggled your leg, trying to shake the man attached to your knee off of you.

His grasp became harder, slowing your movements until they stopped totally. His face moved closer, it reached the hem of your skirt where he brought his fingers to fidget with it softly. “I can’t wait, need it right now.”

Normally you wouldn’t put up such a fuss, but you were in the kitchen, anyone could walk in whenever they wanted. “Sanji, what if someone came in? Like if Luffy got hungry and ran in, what then?”

“I’ll be quick, promise.” He started laying quick kisses on your thighs, his eyes still looked at you from below waiting for your response.

You thought about it for a moment, sighing in defeat. “You promise?” He nodded eagerly, eyes filled with lust as he glanced up at you. You nodded your head in agreement, once you gave him the go ahead he immediately flipped your skirt and dived straight in, head disappearing under the flowy material.

At first he kissed you through the cloth that separated him from your bare pussy, his breath was warm when it fanned onto you. He pulled your underwear off, revealing everything to him.

For some reason unknown to you as you couldn’t see Sanji because of your bottoms he paused in his tracks, not going further.

“You said you’d be fast, get on with it and eat me out already.” You gave him time to resume his prior actions but when he refused and stayed in his place, you threw the skirt up off his head. “What are yo-”

“Just admiring my pretty girl.” Anyone would assume that he was referring to you, but you knew what he was talking about and it wasn’t your face. It was your cunt.

“Shut up.” You forced his face into your core, you couldn’t look at him any longer, just thinking about his words made a wave of heat form in your lower stomach.

Your boyfriend didn’t protest, starting to lick long strips up your slit, sucking on your bud when he reached it at the end. He repeatedly did this until he felt your juices slipping everywhere, now your hole was ready for his tongue. He slipped it inside, letting it slowly slide in to its full length.

You whimpered in response, hands flying to his yellow hair. “Keep going.”

He listened to your pleads, swirling his muscle around in circles before pulling out and searching upwards for your buzzing clit. You felt his lips wrap around it, applying suction on it, during all of this the tip of his tongue poked through his lips and flicked at your bud.

“So close, Sanji!” Your legs enclosed on his torso, trapping him. His actions became faster, suction harder and flicking harsher. It was all too much for your aching cunt, your climax was nearing.

Just as you were about to let go, you heard a voice coming from outside the door. “Sanji! I’m hungry when it food going to be ready!?”

“Have some patience Luffy, you pig!” He pulled away to yell at the pirate captain, stuffing his face back in like nothing had happened.

“Sanj-ji he’s going to walk in here!” You felt tears sting your eyes at the stressful situation that had a chance to occur, but the tears were also present in your eyes due to the fact that the feeling from before was back again.

The cook didn’t respond, eating you out the same as before the interruption. You panted, pawing at his locks as you came on Sanjis mouth.

He quickly licked it all up, placing your panties back on and flattened out your skirt to normal just in time before the energetic black haired boy came barreling through the kitchen doors.

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midnightbluebells03 · 24 days

Text

Good luck babe!

CW - Owen mention, fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving), hair pulling (A receiving)

Reader is fem, described as wearing a dress and heels.

WC - about 3000

No outbreak

Leave me requests so I can get out my writers block pls and thx xo

If Abby Anderson wasn't in denial of her sexuality, there's a chance you two could've been real. You got along like a house on fire, practically a perfect match. But the mix of comphet, her on and off again relationship of Owen and her crippling fear of being vunrable has left you two like this. Having not talked in just over a month, not a word since your argument about the fact she had been using you as an experiment without considering how you felt. And how did you feel?

Crushed.

Maybe you should know better. But yet again it's a Friday night, your other hook ups weren't out tonight and who else but Abby fucking Anderson was giving you eyes from across the room. Leaning against the bar with a tight black wife beater that makes you drool and matching cargos.

It's the first time you'd seen each other since you screamed in her face and called her selfish. And yet the butterflies in your stomach were boardering on a stampede. Her eyes scanning your body up and down while her hand stays clutching her beer bottle. So tight you're almost worried it'll smash in her unforgiving grasp.

Against your better judgement you decide to ignore the angel on your shoulder, also known as your best friend Ellie. Chugging back your drink and handing her the glass. Starting to make your way over to Abby.

Ellie rolls her eyes and shouts after you. Hardly breaking through the noise. "Don't come crying to me when she breaks your heart again!"

"Cmon Els, it's just some fun" you call back before pushing your way through the crowed dance floor and coming out at the other side. Looking up at those baby blue eyes that make a rush of emotions flow through you. You should be mad at her, should cuss her out again for using you. But tonight, you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

You just needed her again.

"Can I get you a drink?" Her normally confident voice has a slight wavier to it. It makes a slight smirk spread across your lips as you take the beer from her hand. Taking a large drink before your nose scrunches up at the taste. You were more of a spirits girl, a cocktail if you felt fancy.

"So no Owen tonight?" The venom in your voice is clear. There's not a soul in Jackson you wanted to punch more than him. The whole reason Abby was so unsure of herself in the first place. The way he managed to weasel his way back into her life time and time again. But yet you couldn't hate Abby for doing the same thing to you.

"He's back with Mel...shes pregnant." You give her a sympathetic look before handing her back the bottle. "I don't wanna talk about it" she mumbles, barely loud enough for you to hear over the thumping music. She finishes it off before placing it on the bar counter behind her.

"How about we don't talk at all then?" You say before she can even turn back around. Watching as her movements stiffen, and she slowly faces you again. Cheeks flushed that shade of pink you could never be sick of. "Your place is close, Ellie's gonna meet with Dina soooo". Your sentence trails off, the suggestion in your voice clear.

The mention of your best friend makes her eyes widen. Looking around the room to try and spot her. "Ellies here?". There's a slight fear in her voice, something that makes you roll your eyes and scoff.

"Oh calm your tits Anderson you could literally kill her, I don't know why you're you're scared".

"Um let me think" she says sarcastically before looking down at you. "The psycho bitch keyed my car". You fight back the giggle that wants to escape your lips. After days of you crying over your ruined situationship Ellie took it into her own hands. And while you told her it was a stupid idea, you couldn't help but hug her and say thank you.

"Can't prove that" you shrug, looking down at your feet a little nervously. Scuffing your heels off the ground. "Look if you dont-"

"I do" she interrupts, her hand now resting onto your exposed arm. You look back into her eyes. Taking a deep breath and accepting that this was going to hurt tomorrow, but it was worth it. Since even just this little touch was making your skin feel like it's on fire.

"Say it." Your voice is stern, watching as Abby bites her lip softly. Leaning down to whisper into your ear.

"I...I want to fuck you"

Your hand comes up to hers, interlocking your fingers and leading her out. "Cmon then" the judgmental gaze coming from Ellie catches your attention before you reach the door. So you wave over and mouth 'I'll call you' while making a phone with your hand. As soon as you're out the warmth of the bar and in the unforgivng chill of the night, a shiver runs up your shine. "Fuck it's cold!" You squeal slightly.

Abby chuckles, looking around to make sure no one can see you two before her arm wraps around your shoulder. "Wouldn't be cold if you wore real clothes." The playfully dig at your revealing dress makes you push her away. With a fake gasp you point a finger into her defined arm.

"Don't slut shame me Anderson" you giggle softly before returning to her side looking up at her. Taking in the way the streetlamp lights bounce off her features. The way her hair flowed in the slight breeze, it was down for once tucked neatly behind her ears. "Besides I was trying to get fucked not stay warm" The slight look of hurt that flashes across her face makes you raise an eyebrow. "What? You jealous?"

"No" she protests, but they way she won't look at you is telling. Before you can question her again, she points towards the door to her apartment complex. Leading you over before punching in her code and opening the door for you. "Cmon before you get hypothermia"

You walk in and wait for her to be back beside you before you both continue up the stairs. "I thought you were meant to be a super smart med student, it's not cold enough for hypothermia". You're trying to lighten up the mood by teasing her lightly. Remembering the time you were convinced you had hypothermia because the heating in her apartment had gone out while you were over. Her door comes into view, and you listen to her dig the key out from her pocket.

"Yeah yeah, just get inside" Abby rolls her eyes while holding the door open for you again. Maybe it would be easier to hate her if she wasn't so kind, if she wasn't so pretty, if she didn't know you so well. The door shuts behind you as you take off your heels. When you turn Abby is just standing there. Fidgeting with her fingers and avoiding eye contact. "Look um...I- I'm sorry-"

"Save it Abby" you inturput, knowing that it would be nothing productive. It would be the say sorry she gave you atleast five times before you blocked her number. "I don't want an apology I want to cum" Abby steps towards you slowly, your hands moving up to her chest. She quickly takes off her boots before straightening back up.

"Yes ma'am" you giggle softly as her hands wrap around your waist and lift you up. Forcing your legs to wrap around her waist as she carries you to the bedroom. Taking your purse and putting it onto her nightstand before gently placing you down onto her navy blue sheets. Moving so she's looming over you. Her calloused hand running up your outer thigh, inching under the thin fabric of your dress as her lips trail down your jaw to your neck. Sucking a purple mark right in your pulse point that has you gripping for her hair.

"Fuck" you moan softly, feeling her smirk into your skin. You sit up inpatiently, pushing her back by her chest as you fumbling with the zipper on your dress. Huffing when you can't reach it.

"Desperate much?" Abby teases before reaching around and pulling it down for you. Helping to pull the fabric off before throwing it onto the floor. Letting her see the matching lingerie you had picked out for the night. "You really were trying to get fucked huh?"

"Yeah" you swallow hard as her eyes scan over you slowly. "You like it?" The truth was you had bought it for her, baby blue lace that matched her eyes. But she called off your little situatuonship before you got to show her.

Abby reaches her hand out for your cheek, pulling you in. This was new. She'd never been one for kissing during. You guys had made out maybe a hand full of times. Her lips touch yours, and you just melt into her. Arms drapping around her shoulders as she pushes you backwards. Her hand running up from your thigh to your chest. Palming your breast through the barley there fabric. When you moan softly she takes the chance to push her tongue past your lips. Deepening the kiss as your nails start to big into the skin of her upper back. When she finally pulls away slightly, the thin string of saliva still joining you together makes your stomach tighten.

"Abs" you whine softly, arching your back so she can slip her hands around and undo the clasp of your bra. Adding it to the floor alongside your dress.

She kisses you quickly "I love it". Abby mumbles before restarting her trail down your body. From your jaw to your neck, ending at your breast when she takes a nipple in her mouth. Swirling her tounge around the hardened bud as you arch into her. Moaning softly as your eyes flutter shut. Fuck you missed this. The way she made you come undone. Every touch so purposeful.

And God knows if she'd ever let you touch her you'd be the same.

The feeling of her fingers brushing over your clit through your panties makes you gasp. Slightly embrassed by the fact Abby can definitely feel the wetness seeping through the fabric.

"Stop- stop teasing me Abs" you plead as her mouth detaches from your nipple.

"Cmon pretty girl you clearly like it" she teases, rubbing your soaked panties. "What do you want?" You just look at her and bite your lip. Eyes darting down to her fingers but she tsks while shaking her head. "Say it" your own words repeated back to you. Because as much as Abby was unsure of herself when it came to you in public. In the comfort of her own four walls, she's as confident as ever.

"Fuck me" you say, the shake in your voice making Abby smirk. You clear your throat before speaking clearly. "Please Abby fuck me". Her fingers hook onto your panties as she moves back. Slowly peeling them off you and adding them to the pile. You sit up and tug at her shirt. Hoping she'll be feeling generous.

"Baby-"

"Please Abs" you cut her off, bringing your hands up to cup her cheeks gently. "I- I won't touch you, I know the rules by now just...wanna see you" she presses a hand to yours before nodding. Pulling back to grab them hem of her shirt. Slowly pulling it up and over her head.

When you started this situationship you asked her why she didn't like being naked. Why she never asked for anything in return. And the tough girl you'd known just looked at you softly and said. 'I just...I don't think I look good'. You left it at that, but you couldn't help the pity you felt for her. Because the truth was Abby was stunning, maybe the most gorgeous girl you'd ever seen. But there was clearly a voice in her head, who you could only assumed was Owen, telling her otherwise.

When her shirt hits the ground your eyes wander over her body, taking in her black sports bra and her washboard abs like you're obsessed with. "You're so pretty." You don't even realise you've said anything until she blushes softly. As Abby leans beck over you, you reach up and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear gently. Just holding her for a second. God, you aren't drunk enough for this. A wave of feelings washing over you like a tsunami.

"What do you want baby?" Abbys voice breaks through your haze. "I've got the str-"

"Fingers" you inturput, just desperate to feel her. Just her.

"You don't usually want fingers" she teases "that's normally your warm up" Abby slowly moves her hands up your inner thighs, spreading your legs so she can look at your dripping pussy. "Fuck...you're soaked"

"Mhmm" you gasp her her fingers make contact with your clit. Making your hips jump slightly in a way that makes Abby chuckle. "You drive me crazy Abs"

She starts to move in slow, steady circles around your sensitive bud. Working soft gasps and moans from your lips as she kisses up your thighs. "Wanna taste you" she mumbles into your skin. Sure, you heard it but she didn't need to know that. So you snake your hand into her blonde locks at give her a gentle tug.

"What was that?" The fake innocence in your voice almost makes you want to laugh.

Abby looks away from you and goes to say it again so you place your hand on her jaw. Forcing her to keep eye contact. "I want to taste you" you raise an eyebrow, waiting on more. "Please?" The way her voice trembles slightly is the biggest ego boost. Working such a strong, confident woman to a mess like this is better than any drink you could've bought at the bar.

As soon as you nod your head and release her jaw, Abby wastes no time. Kissing down your stomach before her lips meet your clit. She gives you one fat lick from your hole to clit, her arms wrapping around your thighs to bring your legs over her shoulders. Abby's grip is so tight even if you wanted to move you'd stand no chance so instead you throw your head back into the pillow. Moaning shamlessly as her tounge works around your clit.

The pleasure makes a warmth spread across your body, your hand tangled in her hair as you hold her close to you. Trying to grind your hips into her but stopped by her hands pinning you down. You're almost convinced there's going to be bruises there tomorrow. "A- Abby" You whine, pleading for more.

She pulls back slightly, looking up at you with your wetness dripping down her chin. "Hmm?"

"Fingers please" your hand squeezes over her own. "Please Abby I'm so close"

Humming softly, she loosens her grip of her right hand. Slowly tracing over your skin until she reaches your mouth. You don't need to be told. Parting your lips, you let her push in. Sucking while keeping eyecontact. When she pulls them out you whine at the lose but it doesn't last long. As they slip into your hole your eyes roll back. "Fuck you're so wet" Abby gasps softly. Once you take her down to the knuckles she let's you adjust. "You good?"

"Mhm" you moans softly "move Abs please?". She doesn't need to be told twice, her fingers slowly starting to pump in and out of you as her mouth moves back to your clit. You can't help but clentch around her as she works you to your peak. Her neighbours must hate her, or really they must hate you. The way your loud moans echo throughout the room as she gets you closer and closer. You grip the sheets beneath you, screwing your eyes shut as your back arches. Orgasm washing over you while all you can do is chant her name over and over and over again. Completely lost in the pleasure.

Abby's pace slows after your finish over her fingers. Only pulling out once your breathing starts to steady and you open your eyes again. She moves up next to you, slumping down as your arms stay pressed together. The sudden silence hanging thick in the air. Uncomfortable, tense. But you break it.

"Are you gonna accept you like women yet?" You ask quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

"I don't" you don't wait for her to continue, instead you move yourself off the bed to start pulling on your underwear. You've been here so many times you just make your way to her closet, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a tshirt that's going to drown you. Planning on adding them to your small collection if her clothes. Even if they had all been shoved to the back of your closet. Abby sits up, stammer out some kind of explanation as you don't look at her. "I- I mean I do, but you know that this is"

"Mhm" you reply, the agitation clear in your tone. You quickly fix your hair to the best of your ability before picking up your dress and pulling out your phone from your purse. Slinging the bag over your arm as you request an Uber.

Abby just looks at you, nervously playing with the end of her hair. "I- its just the way I am-"

You inturput her with a sigh, finally looking at her with a slight pity. "It's not just gonna go away, but its your life Abby if you wanna be misrable and act like you dont like women thats your call" your app pings letting you know the ubers already here and you're silently thankful. Because the familiar feeling of falling for Abby is creeping back into you. "Good luck, babe" you say softly before heading out. Glancing down at your heels at the door with a groan. Reluctantly slipping them on before hurrying down to the Uber.

Maybe one day she'll change.

#Spotify #lesbian #wlw #fanfic #smut #writer #angst #writing #fanfiction #tlou #abby the last of us #the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson #request

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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year

Note

I'm Yoongi's bitch so I can have one “What was supposed to be a one night stand with a member turned out to be more when he couldn’t let go” with him?

Where You Belong

Pairing: CEO!Min Yoongi x Secretary!Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Light Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: I too am Yoongi’s bitch. Also I wrote this while I had six glasses of whiskey if there’s error, pls do forgive sksks. I hope you enjoy this! <3

3000 celebration

“Fucking finally,” Min Yoongi growled as he thrusted his hard member into you. The loud sound of flesh slapping against each other was loud in his bedroom. He had always thought it would be good with you, but fuck if he expected it to be this fucking good.

You were like a custom made for him, like one of those bespoke suits he was always fond of. The moment you entered in his office four years ago, he had felt the growing attraction he had tried to squash to no avail. Min Yoongi had tried so many things, but you were engraved in his skin…so deep that he knew removing you would be fatal to him.

You were his trusty secretary, someone he could really leaned on. But you were more than that. You proved to be more than that. You were his friend, his confidant, someone who took care of him when he overworked himself which he tended to do a lot.

You were his.

Simply his.

Yet the moment you casually mentioned that some other firm reached out to you to recruit you, he lost it.

Yoongi really thought he could rein his intrusive emotions, but he was proven wrong.

It was late at night when the two of you reached the hotel. You were in another city after finishing closing a partnership when you quietly brought it up to your cold boss. You wanted to slowly integrate him to the thought of you leaving, knowing full well that he didn’t do well with sudden changes.

Not when it came to you.

Never when it came to you.

You had developed feelings for him two years ago, and you knew it wasn’t healthy for you to stay. It wasn’t good for you to wait for him, not when he proved time after time that you were just a secretary to him. Not when he looked at you as though he never saw you for who you were.

You needed to move on from this stupid crush.

Having just finish debriefing with him, you thought that now was a good time to tell him your intentions slowly.

Yoongi closed his laptop, the workaholic in him finally feeling at ease now that the contract was done, and it was all because of your hard work. He looked at you with his dark eyes, admiring your strength and professionalism- yet he knew he couldn’t cross the line…unless you did first.

“Let’s go to the museum you want to visit tomorrow-“

“Enhypen company reached out to me,” you cut him off, your voice strong despite feeling the exact opposite. You almost wanted to take the words back when you saw his face lost all its emotions. You were now facing the Yoongi that people feared.

“Excuse me?”

“T-they want to interview me next week-“

Yoongi chuckled lowly before slowly placing his laptop on the coffee table. He loosened his tie, his movements precise even as his eyes were on you. “And what did you say, kitten? I hope you put them down gently…”

You gulped as he stared at you as though he could see through your soul, as though he knew the secrets you kept.

As though he knew you were in love with him long before you admitted it to yourself. And it was because of that that you knew you had to leave this stupid crush behind and move on with your life. “I told them…” you trailed off when you saw him tilted his head, his dark eyebrow raised as he waited for you to continue with nonchalance in his movements. He leaned in, his elbows resting on his knees as he waited for you to decide on his face.

“Yes, kitten? You told them no, right? That’s good. No one deserves you as much as I-“

“I told them I’ll go next week.”

You could hear a pin drop in the room. The silence was suffocating, his glare was like vines keeping you in place. It took forever before he scoffed. He couldn’t believe you were considering leaving him.

“No.”

You blinked owlishly at the man sitting in front of you. “No?”

“You heard me,” he postulated as though it was a done deal. “You’re not going to that fucking interview. You’re not going to leave. You’re going to stay by my side.”

Your could feel your heart beat faster as though it was warning you of the danger that was slowly standing and sauntering to you.

And when he was close enough, he leaned in to whisper, “No one can have you but me.”

You cried in pleasure as Yoongi drew another orgasm from you. He was relentless when he heard you would leave him, became unhinged with the thought of never seeing you again.

He couldn’t have that, could he?

Yet, the moment he fell asleep, you knew you had to leave. You couldn’t survive when morning came and he looked at you with indifference once again.

Or when he would tell you it was a mistake.

You just couldn’t.

And so you left his embrace that felt like home.

“Where is she?” Yoongi asked in barely contained anger as he looked at your direct subordinate. It was nine o’clock and yet, you were nowhere to be seen. You were usually here by seven in the morning. When he woke up without you, he lost it. The hotel room was the telltale sign of him losing his ever loving composure. It took you running to crumble his nonchalant facade.

“S-she resigned, sir-“

“You’re fired.”

But the letter neatly placed on his desk was notice enough of you leaving the company, of you leaving him.

As if you could.

He would make sure there was no place on earth you could hide from him.

“Are you insane?” You seethed as you saw him. He was calmly sat down, his evil lawyer looking at you with soulless eyes. “Fifty million just because I left?”

Min Yoongi shrugged, his eyes looked bored. But he was anything but bored. He felt alive now that he could finally see you.

It took tons of lawsuit before you agreed to meet with him.

“You breached the contract.”

“It specifically said that I can leave whenever I want!”

“Tsk tsk,” Yoongi shook his head in faux sadness before smirking at you. “You should have read the contract carefully, my kitten. It says here you can’t leave me. Ever.”

You slammed your hands on the desk, your anger getting the best of you. Couldn’t you just moved on in peace?!

“I know what I signed! This isn’t it!”

“Then prove it.”

But how could you when he had all the resources in the world to make you stay? He knew it. You knew it. That smug smirk of his was a sign he knew he had you cornered.

Kitten, you really should have known you couldn’t leave. Not when he finally understood what he felt for you, not now. Not ever.

At your defeated expression, he softened his expression and reached out his long, veiny hand to clasp yours. “Or come back to me. This is the only way, kitten.”

Come back, and he swore that he would always make you happy.

That he would be the best husband for you.

That you would never, ever want to leave him.

#min yoongi x you #bts fic #bts yandere #3000 celebration #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #yandere yoongi #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x reader #yandere min yoongi #yoongi x reader #min yoongi yandere #suga x y/n

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holy-puckslibrary · 2 months

Text

━ 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

──────────── 𝐰𝐜 — 1.9k 𝐜𝐰 — everyone is aged up / non-canon compliant ages bc i said so; rafe being an emotionally constipated, toxic douche-canoe 3000; an unhealthy dynamic; suggestive moments but not explicit; w*rd + substance mention, wheeze bein' a savage; and a potential cliffhanger? 𝐚/𝐧 — this is a lil nugget from a mini-series i have in the works :) lmk if you’d like to see more in the future! 💌 ────────────

main masterlist | MDNI

IF EVER THERE were a time when a human being might actually be capable of blowing steam from their ears, it would be this one.

Rafe Cameron has been pacing the length of the chapel's private lot since he dragged you out here who knows how long ago. Mumbling crudely configured sentences and half-baked schemes under his breath, he looks every bit the loose canon he's been branded as.

While not ideal, things could be worse—a lot worse. At the very least, he hasn't punched anything yet; concrete wall, tree trunk, or otherwise.

The "otherwise" in this situation (and most, to be frank) is JJ Maybank's pretty face.

Apparently, Rafe doesn't appreciate the way he's been touching you all afternoon.

"If that fuckin' pogue knows what's good for him, he—he'll keep his filthy hands off what's mine."

Strong words for someone who refuses to even attempt exclusivity, or make any sort of commitment whatsoever.

You gnaw on your cheek until copper stings your tongue.

JJ has to touch you, it's unavoidable.

Sarah, his younger sister and your lifelong best friend, has asked you to be her Maid of Honor and, to absolutely no one's surprise, John B, her fiancé, asked JJ Maybank to serve as his Best Man.

Sarah's older brother doesn't see it that way.

And why would he? That would involve rational thinking and a modicum of maturity—two things Rafe is allergic to.

In his perfect world, you would walk in the procession having left a him-sized gap, and, even then, he'd probably decide that wasn't enough. Knowing him, there would need to be an ocean between you two before Rafe was finally satisfied. And still, you know for certain he'd find something else to bitch about.

It's almost like he enjoys getting himself all worked up.

"Rafe, I'm not a pet or a toy to play tug-of-war with on the playground."

At your sudden burst of exasperation, the pacing comes to a screeching halt. And thank god for that; the repetition was starting to make you nauseous.

Just as firmly as his jaw, Rafe's fists clench at his sides.

"When did I say that you were?" he spews his venom at you, but his fervid attention remains fixed on the cracked pavement baking in the late afternoon rays. Rafe kicks a pebble into the side of a parked car, then continues, "—because I don't recall saying that. And you know how I feel about words being put into my mouth."

"No," you all but growl. "—but that's what you meant."

Your teeth ache from grinding them together. A migraine is forming at either temple, but you're already too exhausted by this conversation to massage it away before it takes root. You have your hands full with one headache right now, there's no room for another on your plate. But, like the eldest Cameron's emotional maelstrom, landfall is inevitable.

Rafe glares at you, but doesn't say anything to the contrary.

This begrudged acquiescence is the closest you ever come to Rafe admitting that you were right about something.

Or apologizing.

"Well, whatever you are, you're still mine. Something he doesn't respect and you seem to have forgotten—and I think we're overdue for a little reminder, sweetness."

He reaches for you, and you halfheartedly bat his hands away.

"Rafe, can we just... can we please do this some other time? I have to get back to—"

"—to your side piece from The Cut?"

"—to Sarah. Your sister. Y'know, the one who's getting married this weekend?" You cross your arms over your chest. Rafe rolls his eyes, clearly irritated you decided to cock-block his ogling. "—in case that bit of information got lost in your ego."

"Wow, you're really antsy to get back in there." His eyebrows jump, somehow unfettered by his audacity. The supplemental away from me is omitted, but deafening. "There's no need to be so defensive—if you have nothing to feel guilty for, that is."

You don't dignify his badgering with a response.

His tongue punches his cheek, and he looks away, as if depriving you of eye contact is a punishment in and of itself.

Rafe is trying to bait you into an actual fight so that he can exercise his big, bottled-up emotions without having to acknowledge their existence or their cause. There's too much left to do before the ceremony; you don't have time to spare for something as juvenile and pointless as feeding into his emotional scapegoat.

"If you're spreading 'em for Maybank, at least give me a head's up so I can get tested. It's common courtesy, sweetness."

Cold and debilitating, like a scorpion's venom, his accusation is devoid of the familiarity you've grown fond of. Under Rafe's prickly carapace of indifference, he is spiteful and chronically insecure.

This is what happens when you don't purge yourself of whatever is bothering you. Pent up, the negativity builds and builds day in and day out. The knot gets bigger, stronger, and harder to ignore the longer it's left undealt with. The conflict between inner turmoil and externalized chaos, often projected onto an underserving substitute, is harsh and bitter, persisting until there's nothing left to leverage. Denial is a dreadful opponent and an impenetrable armor.

You are the frog today, and you are more often than not. Perhaps there was a time when turns were frequently taken, but you can't remember.

In shooting to sting, he'll kill himself just the same. Yet, despite the assured detriment to your livelihood, you put your faith in rational deterrence and permit the arachnid to crawl onto your back.

A sense of duty is easily preyed upon, and a desire for benevolence can leave you blind to the true nature of things. Instinct, natural or nurtured, doesn't have to be a death sentence. Nor is it a prescription for life. Villainy, like goodness, is a choice.

The frog may not be able to sting or fight, but it can leap.

"Would you just shut up?"

You bring his mouth to yours before any more garbage can spill out.

He's keyed up on jealousy and, most likely, something else. Rafe's intent on pushing you away with tired cheap shots in a fit of anger. You've known him long enough to know that, in the absence of control, he does and says the exact opposite of what he feels.

He refuses to be vulnerable in any healthy way, instead preferring to throw double-edged rocks at your window from behind a wilting bush.

Words are incompatible with Rafe's trauma-soaked mind. He'll hear whatever it is you have to say—Hell, he might even believe it for a few minutes—but a life of too many broken promises and poorly disguised lies depreciated their value.

Action—that's what Rafe can grasp. For something to click and stick, it must be tangible. You kissed him to express your loyalty in the only way he understands.

And to make him shut up. Definitely that, too.

"I should've ignored Sarah when she said a spray bottle was a bad idea."

Your eyes are slow to open, but you jump away from Rafe anyway. As if you've been caught with your hand in the cookie jar, or like you betrayed some great conspiracy. Like he burned you.

It may not have a label, but your charged relationship with the Cameron heir is an open secret on Kiladare. Still, you're not too keen on public displays of affection—if anything you subject each other to could even be considered gentle or loving.

Intimate, sure. An attachment, definitely. The jury's still out on the health of such a volatile symbiosis, but such an entanglement is a bitch to bury.

You've tried.

Rafe's jaw clenches, annoyed by the irksome interruption now more than any slight you've perpetrated. "Wheezie, can't you see we're in the middle of something?"

"Something I saw a little too much of," she retorts with an exaggerated gag.

You bite down on your cheeks to keep your laughter at bay. You're in no mood to poke the bear further than he's already stabbed himself.

"Run along, the adults are talking."

Again, Rafe reaches for you. This time, you step out of bounds.

She means well, but the youngest Cameron has a big mouth and a propensity for gossip. She's also a compulsive eavesdropper. Wheezie might butt in and stir the pot far less now than she did a few years ago, but when it comes to Rafe, all bets are off. They may be each other's preferred sibling, bonded by their inability to best Sarah in the rat race for their father's attention and approval, but in their household, it's everyone for themselves.

And she's had her eye on the special edition Animal Crossing Switch console for weeks; she'll throw you both under the bus without a thought. Especially, if it means not waiting 'till Christmas to have it in her tween-age hands.

You throw her a bone, and yourself a lifeline. "What's up, Wheeze?"

She gives her brother a final glare, then turns to face you fully. Her features are twisted with exasperation, an understandable feeling considering who her siblings are and the family she's had the misfortune of being born into.

"Sarah wants to practice the rings. Again. So, hurry up and finish sucking face, adults. We have more important things to do."

Wheezie stomps off before either you or Rafe can get a word in. For her, the conversation ran its course. No need to stick around.

"Can I ask something stupid?" Rafe asks once his sister is out of earshot.

His voice is a bit wobbly, and while you know he'll make you regret it later, but you just can't help yourself: "Don't you always?"

Rafe clears his throat, then rubs his jaw like it might grant him the right words.

"We only... y'know with each other, right? I-I mean, I just figured since you're stuck to me like fucking velcro you're in the same boat. I mean—talk about stage five clinger. And, don't get me wrong, I would've unstuck you, but this," Rafe gestures to what little space remains between you. "—is way more convenient than all the hoops and shit of getting with someone else."

You know what he's actually asking—you've been fluent in "Rafe" since the fourth grade. Just one of the many, many joys of your fathers' life-long bromance.

He wants you to spill your guts before he does. He wants certainty; a safety net of prior knowledge.

—Rafe wants power.

"Totally," you drawl, humoring him with half the effort you normally would. Rafe squirms under your knowing gaze. "All for convenience, babe."

"Are you mocking me?"

"Don't I always?" you counter through a smirk that makes Rafe feel as though he's staring into a splintered funhouse mirror.

Rafe watches you slip back into the chapel, wishing that he said more... wishing he'd said less. He follows your figure down the hallway until the metal door shuts with a rancorous thud.

When he shuts his eyes—a lukewarm attempt to calm his racing heart in the relentless summer sun—all Rafe can think about is your parting wink.

And the God-awful churn of emotion it triggered.

────────────

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libraryraccoon · 2 months

Note

So I got this idea of an Idia Reader who is an overlord (making some high tech prosthetic or another things that Vox himself can’t make easily) and forced to go attend an overlord meeting and imagine the panic attack he would have if Alastor or worse Valentino interacted with them.

Probably locks themselves in a their room for three months after the meeting.

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Message of Raccoon : I can just imagine Vox and Idia!Reader being two bestfriends that have rivalry for fun.

Info : Idia!Reader being an overlord in the Vees.

General Headcanon

You were one of the Overlords of the Vees.

But compared to the others, you didn't like the attention.

The recluse of the Vees, that's who you were.

You hated leaving your room, preferring to use your tablet to see/talk with others.

But one day, you were forced to show up at one of the Overlords meetings. Irl.

When you entered the room, all the overlords asked you who you were.

"Who are you ?" -Carmilla.

"The one who almost doxxed all of you. Idia!Reader." -you, already wanting to go back to your room.

It was the first time they saw you, like really saw you. Not through a tablet, but irl.

You sat between Rosie and Alastor, a mistake.

The two kept talking and adding you into the conversation. You wanted to die again.

They were nice and polite, yes, but you didn't like socializing. You preferred solitude and calm to having to socialize.

You regretted having taken this place instead of putting yourself next to Zestial, who is calm and silent.

"Oh ! Did you hear about what Jack did ?" -Rosie.

“No, what did he do ?”-Alastor.

"He fucked his wife's sister, then ate the said sister. His wife found him and then ate Jack." -Idia!Reader.

If there was tea, it would have been perfect.

Carmilla give you a look that can be translated as "Good luck, we're not together."

You will doxx her later as punishment for not helping you.

The meeting was pretty good, except for the moment you had to talk and socialize.

Your social anxiety suffered greatly during this meeting.

When you entered the Vees tower, you wanted to go to your room but the others Vees stopped you.

Valentino and Velvette congratulated you for coming out of your shithole room.

But you know what was the worst ? When Vox saw you, he asked why you had placed yourself next to his enemy, Alastor.

Vox gave you an hour-long lecture on why what you did was wrong.

You just wanted to stay cooped up in your room for the rest of the eternity.

But you couldn't.

Why ? Because Rosie and Alastor have come for you.

Apparently you have become their friends, without your consent.

Once a week you had to go out and spend time with Alastor and/or Rosie.

And you couldn't even run away because the two always know where to find you.

You are gossip friends. I will not accept otherwise.

You have the pass to touch Alastor. You use it to touch his ears because DEER EAR !!

You do the same with his tail, because DEER TAIL !!! (He tries to hide his tail from you)

I headcanon that you have a picture with you, Rosie and Alastor on it.

Let's pretend you were there during the meeting about the angel.

…

Carmilla paid you $3000 (or whatever the money is in hell) for not talking about her killing an angel.

You took the money before telling to Rosie and Alastor everything.

If she ever finds out, you're dead, but don't worry, it was worth it.

I headcanon that your hair (or at least a part of your hair) is made of fire, and that the Vees, Alastor and Rosie want to touch it.

Alastor and Rosie love seeing your hair changing its colors depending on your emotions, it always betrays you and they find it amusing.

Alastor using the Aromantic charm on you to see you get frustrated and see your hair changing its color is canon.

Alastor has already brought you to the Hazbin Hotel..

When I say that you said what you thought out loud and you were brutal with your words, I don't think you realize how much that was-

You were banned from the hotel by Vaggie while Alastor was just watching and laughing.

You felt hurt, betrayed by your friend.

“Oh yeah, that’s how it is now, every man for himself.”

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ms-demeanor · 8 months

Note

Since some people might want a Mac, I'll offer a Mac equivalent of your laptop guide from the perspective of a Mac/Linux person.

Even the cheapest Macs cost more than Windows laptops, but part of that is Apple not making anything for the low end of the tech spectrum. There is no equivalent Mac to an Intel i3 with 4 gigabytes of RAM. This makes it a lot easier to find the laptop you need.

That said, it is possible to buy the wrong Mac for you, and the wrong Mac for you is the 13-inch MacBook Pro with the Touch Bar. Get literally anything else. If it has an M2 chip in it, it's the most recent model and will serve you well for several years. Any new MacBook Air is a good pick.

(You could wait for new Macs with M3, but I wouldn't bother. If you are reading these guides the M3 isn't going to do anything you need done that a M2 couldn't.)

Macs now have integrated storage and memory, so you should be aware that whatever internal storage and RAM you get, you'll be stuck with. But if you would be willing to get a 256 gig SSD in a Windows laptop, the Mac laptop with 256 gigs of storage will be just as good, and if you'd be willing to get 8 gigs of RAM in a Windows laptop the Mac will perform slightly better with the same amount of memory.

Buy a small external hard drive and hook it up so Time Machine can make daily backups of your laptop. Turn on iCloud Drive so your documents are available anywhere you can use a web browser. And get AppleCare because it will almost certainly be a waste of money but wooooooow will you be glad it's there if you need it.

I get that you are trying to help and I am not trying to be mean to you specifically, but people shouldn't buy apple computers. That's why I didn't provide specs for them. Apple is a company that is absolutely terrible to its customers and its customers deserve better than what apple is willing to offer.

Apple charges $800 to upgrade the onboard storage from a 256GB SSD to a 2TB SSD.

A 2TB SSD costs between $75-100.

I maintain that any company that would charge you more than half the cost of a new device to install a $100 part on day one is a company making the wrong computer for you.

The point of being willing to tolerate a 256GB SSD or 8GB RAM in a Windows laptop is that you're deferring some of the cost to save money at the time of purchase so that you can spend a little bit in three years instead of having to replace the entire computer. Because, you see, many people cannot afford to pay $1000 for a computer and need to buy a computer that costs $650 and will add $200 worth of hardware at a later date.

My minimum specs recommendations for a mac would be to configure one with the max possible RAM and SSD, look at the cost, and choose to go buy three i7 windows laptops with the same storage and RAM for less than the sticker price of the macs.

So let's say you want to get a 14" Macbook pro with the lowest-level processor. That's $2000. Now let's bump that from 16GB RAM and a 512GB SSD to 32GB and 2TB. That gets you to $3000. (The SSD is $200 less than on the lower model, and they'll let you put in an 8TB SSD for $1800 on this model; that's not available on the 13" because apple's product development team is entirely staffed by assholes who think you deserve a shitty computer if you can't afford to pay the cost of two 1991 Jeep Cherokee Laredos for a single laptop).

For $3000 you can get 3 Lenovo Workstation laptops with i7 processors, 32GB RAM, and a 2TB SSD.

And look, for just $200 more I could go up to 48GB RAM and get a 4TB SSD - it costs $600 to upgrade the 14" mac from a 2TB SSD to a 4TB SSD so you could still get three laptops with more ram and the same amount of storage for the cost of one macbook.

I get that some people need to use Final Cut and Logic Pro, but hoo boy they sure are charging you through the nose to use products that have become industry standard. The words "capture" and "monopoly" come to mind even though they don't quite apply here.

"Hostile" does, though, especially since Mac users end up locked into the ecosystem through software and cloud services and become uncertain how to leave it behind if they ever decide that a computer should cost less than a month's rent on a shitty studio apartment in LA.

There's a very good reason I didn't give mac advice and that's because my mac advice is "DON'T."

#sorry i swear i know you're being nice #i am incapable of being nice when talking about apple #i was a total apple fangirl until the unibody #which is the domino that started all the other companies pulling shit like soldered RAM #they said 'fuck you - users shouldn't service their own computers' and I say 'fuck apple - users shouldn't use macs'#and that has been my stance on the matter since 2012 #which was the last time i bought a macbook because i knew i'd never buy a computer that would fight me to change my own battery

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lauraneedstochill · 1 year

Text

“All yours” (modern!Aemond Targaryen, college au, part 1)

🔥 part 2: First time for everything

author’s note: the idea came out of NOWHERE. I reread my The Greens (modern!au) — and then this thing happened. to keep up with the tradition I’m posting it as it is (I may regret it when I wake up lmao), hopefully, some of you can enjoy this silliness! ✨ • Aemond doesn’t lose an eye but he still has a big scar (let’s pretend Luke missed by a couple of inches) • I originally said that he’d be into sports however I’m yet to pick a sport for him so the description is very vague (I’m open to suggestions!)

words: ~3000 (I TRIED to cut it short... but alas)

warnings: none, I think? they just swoon over each other (and a cheeky blond makes an appearance again ;)

⋙ It’s impossible not to know who Aemond Targaryen is when pretty much every girl on campus has a crush on him. The tall athletic guy with chiseled cheekbones and bright eyes who wins one tournament after another, manages to stay at the top of his classes but barely talks to anyone and has a handful of friends. Even the scar on the left side of his face — a faded red stripe from his temple and down to the cheek — only adds to his appeal although you suspect it’s mostly due to people not knowing how he got said scar. Come to think of it, there isn’t much to know about him at all: he’s not on social media, rarely goes to parties, stays out of trouble and doesn’t even like his pictures being taken. There is a certain charm to that mystery yet you also can’t help but respect his intelligence and perseverance. (And you may find him attractive, but that’s a given.)

⋙ You share a few classes with him, and he usually sits nearby although you think it’s purely a coincidence. He once gave you his pen when you forgot yours, and he also sometimes stands behind you in line for coffee in the nearby cafeteria but you never really interact. You catch him looking at you a couple of times and you don’t think much of it. You might’ve thrown a glance or two at him, too, since there’s no crime in that.

⋙ You get paired up for a project by mere chance: your best friend fell sick and his mate missed the class for whatever reason so you and Aemond are the only ones without a partner, and Mr. Harrold tells you to work together. Aemond approaches you when the class is over.

“Hi” — “Hi” you say in unison. There’s a glint of a smile on his lips, his eyes studying your face.

“I’ve got two training sessions today, can we maybe start tomorrow?” he suggests.

“Sure, tomorrow sounds fine,” you nod. “Meet me in the library at 3?”

You quickly discuss the books you’ll need, and he casually asks for your number so you could text him the details. While you’re typing it, you miss the grin that appears on his face. Truth be told, you’re too busy thinking of how good his arms look with his sleeves rolled up.

⋙ The next day, he’s only five minutes late. You don’t even notice, wrapped up in reading, until he rushes in, a tad disheveled and very apologetic. You are about to tell him it’s no big deal when you notice blood on his hand — or more so on his knuckles. He looks like he wants to avoid the subject but you are truly shocked at the sight.

“Should I worry about the other guy?” you muster a smile, looking him over with concern.

“He deserved it,” Aemond mumbles as he sits next to you, averting his gaze.

He goes to dig some books out of his bag when you take his hand — you do so without thinking, it almost comes out as a reflex. While you examine his bruised skin, Aemond pretty much forgets how to breathe.

“It’s not that bad but will swell up in the morning, so you need to apply some ice,” you tell him, fingers gently brushing over his. “Here, this is the next best thing I can think of,” you grab your cup of iced coffee and put it to his knuckles. When you glance up at Aemond, you see him looking at you with a stunned face expression, and you realize that you might’ve overstepped a little.

“I’m sorry, you probably already know what to do without my advice,” you move to pull back the cup, but he suddenly covers your hand with his other palm.

“Don’t,” he breathes out. “This feels nice.”

Within a few seconds, his cheeks turn red.

“The ice, I mean, you were right about applying the ice,” he corrects himself, and you can’t help but smile wider. The most popular guy on campus is blushing because you held his hand, and there’s something very endearing about this moment. Or maybe it’s just him.

You push that thought away and divert the conversation to your assigned project. He keeps his hand intertwined with yours for the rest of the evening, both of you acting like it’s no big deal.

⋙ The next time you see him, he brings you coffee, and somehow he guesses your order perfectly. You meet up a few times a week, and he makes sure to come in time. Always prepared and polite, he buys you coffee regularly and insists on carrying all your books. You now sit together in classes, he shares his secret Spotify account with you and you learn that you share a passion for reading. Aemond also gives you his hoodie when he notices that you’re cold on your way out of the library one evening. He pulls the hoodie up over his head and his T-shirt comes up, too, exposing his lower abdomen and the tight lines of his abs. You take a deep, long breath, pretending that you didn’t see a thing.

And sometimes his hands brush yours and his gaze lingers on your face. But it’s another thing you try not to think of.

⋙ He mentions in passing that his training will get more intense as the competition season begins. At this point, you’ve been meeting for a couple of weeks pretty regularly, and you feel a slight twinge in your heart at the realization that you’ll see him less often. What you don’t expect is for him to stand you up. At any other time, you might’ve cut him some slack, but it just so happened that you are in a really bad mood since the moment you woke up, and him not answering your texts only rile you up.

You are so annoyed, you come into the locker room with little to no hesitation. Most of the guys already left but you still hear a couple of them whistling at you, and you flip them off. Aemond just got out of the shower and when you see him, he already has his jeans on and stands next to his locker searching for a clean shirt.

“Dude, your girl looks pissed,” one of his mates comments, and Aemond gives him a perplexed look. And then he turns to see you, your eyes burning holes in him, and his face pales.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters. “We were supposed to meet, weren’t we?”

“Yep,” you drawl with a frown, and his face falls even more.

He doesn’t have time to explain as you hear another whistle.

“Nice ass,” it’s Jeff, one of the frat boys who’s famous for not keeping his hands to himself. You are about to shut him off but when Jeff looks up at you, his smirk disappears.

“Woah, I didn’t know it was you!” he raises his hands in defense. “My apologies to your ass,” he glances behind your back, terrified. “...To you, I mean my apologies to you!” he backs off. “Hey, it was meant as a compliment, tell your boyfriend I’m not his punching bag!”

“You need to google what a compliment is, you idiot,” you scoff at him, and Jeff all but runs off.

The room is awkwardly quiet, and Aemond’s friends quickly get out, leaving you two alone. He barely has time to open his mouth before you press your hand to his chest, making him stumble back purely out of surprise.

“Care to explain what the hell was that?” you hiss at him, your gaze burning. “My boyfriend?!”

“I didn’t say that, he made an assumption,” Aemond clarifies.

“Jeff was the one you got into a fight with?” you suddenly figure out. “But why?”

“He was talking shit about you,” he says, clearly displeased.

“And you decided it was worth a fight? I could not care less if he — ”

“I do,” Aemond cuts you off. “And I think it was worth it,” he punctuates with so much certainty, it takes you aback.

In the next second, you realize that your hand is still on his bare chest — it’s warm and toned, his muscles tense under your touch — and you are standing very close to each other. It’s very, very hard not to think of.

“Um, thank you, I guess,” you step back with your gaze still on him. “I-I shouldn’t have barged in here, it wasn’t very —”

One of your legs bumps into a bench, your eyes widen — and you are about to trip over when Aemond catches you. With a blink of an eye, his hands are on your waist as he brings you closer again, and this time the distance between you two is even shorter. You involuntarily look at his lips and when you glance back up, you catch him looking at yours.

If he kisses you right now, you won’t mind. In fact, you will probably enjoy it. Probably a lot.

Aemond clears his throat and pulls back.

“I’m sorry that I stood you up, the coach didn’t let us rest for a minute,” he explains with a repentant tone. “I wanted to send you a text, I really did. And then it just went out of my head.”

“It’s fine, I get it,” you give him a wan smile. “You warned me that you would be busy.”

“Still, it was rude on my part,” he insists. “You have any plans for the evening? We can still go to the library, I’m all yours for today.”

The way he phrases it makes your heart skip a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to concentrate.

“They closed earlier,” you sigh. “Something about updating the catalog.”

Aemond only thinks for a second.

“I, um... Live close by. Maybe you can come over? No one will bother us there,” his smile looks sheepish and unsure but there’s a hint of eagerness in his voice. And he is still very much half-naked.

“I happen to be completely free,” you say as your concentration goes out of the window.

⋙ Aemond apologizes again, profusely. He gives apologies in the locker room, on your way out, in the cab — and when you get out of the car and he opens his mouth again — you turn and firmly place your hand over it.

“I think I got it the first time,” you tell him, and he looks amused with your act.

You feel him smiling, his lips tickling your palm, and you move your fingers away as your cheeks heat up.

“Quite fierce, aren’t you,” he remarks.

You don’t notice a sidewalk curb but Aemond does — his hand finds yours when you are a moment away from stumbling again, and he tugs you closer. He doesn’t comment on it, asking you about your day instead. There are a few other parts of your body where you want him to put his hands on, you think.

⋙ His apartment is unexpectedly huge — four bedrooms and a living room, high ceilings and large windows, and you can’t hide your bewilderment. He half-heartedly explains that his dad left it to them after the divorce.

“Oh, so it’s not just yours,” you conclude, relieved. “Makes it look like less of a palace.”

“I have my own, actually,” he almost looks ashamed, and you find his modesty ever so adorable. “I’ve repainted the walls, and the place needs some air. So I’m crushing here at the moment.”

He tells you that his older brother Aegon mostly hangs out in his gallery, Helaena took a week off to visit her friends, and you already know that their youngest — Daeron — studies abroad.

“Mum recently moved in with her boyfriend,” Aemond nonchalantly adds while showing you to his room.

You realize that it’s just the two of you. The thought of it warms up the lower part of your body, anticipation tingling in your abdomen, but you do your best to keep it together.

Luckily, you get easily distracted by the beautiful interior, his sister’s plants and paintings, and rows of photos on the walls, and you try not to gawk at the surroundings. Aemond tries not to gawk at you. You both fail.

“Feel yourself at home, I’ll go look for my charger,” his hand grazes your back after he opens the door. Aemond leaves you standing but the feeling of his touch remains. You have to pinch yourself to get back to reality.

⋙ You see his bookshelf that stretches from one end of the room to the other, and excitement bubbles in your chest as you rush to take a closer look. There’s a plethora of books of all colors and genres, paperback and hardcover, and you energetically look through the rows filled with them. You reach for one of the books on the upper berth, standing on your tiptoes but it causes you to lose balance. The only reason you don’t fall flat on your back is because Aemond’s hand swiftly lands on your waist, steading you. He turns you around to him, and your faces are suddenly only inches apart.

“Are you always this clumsy?” he chuckles lightly, his breath fanning over your skin.

Only when you are around, apparently.

Aemond’s lips part, his brows raising, and he stares at you, surprised. And then you realize that you said it out loud. Before you get a chance to correct yourself, he lets out a laugh, and you feel your face flushing. You close your eyes in embarrassment, trying to steady your breath, and his laughter dies down. He firmly locks his hands around you.

“What’s on your mind?” Aemond murmurs after a minute of silence.

You, you, you. Fearing that there’s still a chance that you are misreading the situation, you vaguely respond:

“A lot of things,” but your voice comes out strained and quiet.

When you don’t hear him replying, you open your eyes — your gaze immediately meeting his. The warmth from his hands slips into your body.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” Aemond asks in a low tone, his eyes a shade darker in this lightning. You shake your head because talking seems like an actual challenge right now.

“Kissing you,” he confesses, maintaining eye contact.

You inhale sharply, a wave of relief washing over you. And then something else sparkles inside, tightening your chest, and the well-known burning sensation blossoms right under your navel.

“You should,” you tell Aemond, and it’s the only confirmation he needs.

He crashes his lips into yours with fervor, pulling your chest flush against his and knocking the breath from your lungs. His hand cups your face, guiding you even closer, his mouth greedy and intent with its every movement, and your head goes dizzy with longing. The kiss is both tender and heated, and you lose yourself in the moment, only thinking of how soft and supple his lips are, and how ineffably good they feel.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Aemond mumbles against your mouth.

“Only been a month,” you manage to say while his lips move from your jaw to your neck.

“Long before that,” his words burn the spot just below your ear, making you shiver. “Ever since you argued with Mr. Harrold that Zelda Fitzgerald wrote ‘The Great Gatsby’ and her husband was a total — hmm, how did you call him? Yeah, a total nitwit,” he cackles.

You glance at him with your mouth ajar:

“Aemond, that was last semester.”

“I didn’t know how to approach you,” he admits, abashed. “And I didn’t want it to be weird or to mess it up and — ”

You shut him off with another kiss, and he hums in satisfaction. His thumb softly rubs your cheek while he deepens the kiss, his mouth exploring yours. His other hand dares to move lower, squeezing your hip and making you sigh at the alacrity of his. It’s simultaneously overwhelming and not enough but he still holds back a little, not crossing the line just yet.

“Wow, can’t believe this is finally happening!”

You break the kiss, startled by someone’s voice. A blond guy is leaning on the door frame, a pair of glasses and a grin on his face. Aemond groans into your shoulder, his hands moving to your waist.

“It’s Y/N, right? I’m this dipshit’s brother,” he shamelessly walks closer and extends a hand. You reluctantly go for a handshake, but he plants a quick kiss on yours.

“Aegon,” Aemond says with a warning tone.

“Oh, don’t grumble at me, I’ve been listening to you talk about her for months,” his brother’s smile widens. “Now Hel owes me 50 bucks.”

“Why is that?” you squint at him.

“We made a bet. I said he’d grow a pair and ask you out before the year ends. Glad I was right,” he snickers.

“Well, technically...,” you can help but laugh.

“He still didn’t?” Aegon fakes a gasp. “I apologize on his behalf, I taught him better than that!”

“Can you please fuck off already?” Aemond glares at him, irritated, and Aegon rolls his eyes but takes the hint.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it, kids,” he winks at you and walks away.

“I like him,” you exclaim.

“I don’t,” Aemond retorts and pulls you in for a kiss as soon as the door closes. “But I will let him win the bet.”

“Is that so?” you cock your head with a smile.

“Yeah,” he pauses, his face getting serious, and he almost looks scared while asking: “Will you go on a date with me?”

“I’d love to,” you agree without a second thought, and his lips twitch upward, making your heart swell with affection. “Where do you plan on taking me?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Aemond says cryptically, his eyes never leaving yours. “May be more than just one date,” he sounds both daring and pleading. You gently trace the line of his scar, and he relaxes at the movement.

“So you are all mine for a while, huh?” you joyfully assume, earning a laugh from him, and he leans in, his hand lovingly caressing your face.

“For as long as you’ll have me,” he whispers before closing the distance between your lips. ➡ part 2: First time for everything

• listen, I looked at his face and I thought there’s no way girls won’t find him attractive, with or without a scar. so yeah, this version of Aemond is more confident. I may do a second part? maybe more headcanons (love confessions, meeting his family, moving in together, etc.)

• I kinda want to write for Aegon, too... I mean, just look at the original photo and tell me he doesn’t seem like the sweetest fuckboy ever! tagging @greenowlfactif, @kyuupidwrites since you asked (I hope that’s fine 🥺)

✨ recent fic: “My first choice” (she’s Aegon’s bestie, inspired by “Little women”) 💌 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

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freesia-writes · 1 month

Text

Bad Batch Prompt Event #1

Much love to @arctrooper69 for making this official, and I can't wait to see what anyone else has written for these prompts! I'm gonna post the SFW part one here and NSFW part two over on @spicy-clones.

Hunter x F!Reader WORD COUNT 3000 my bad! Content: some basic medical descriptions, reader gets her butt smacked at 79s, and a wee bit o kissin. GONNA USE MY SEXY DIVIDERS WITH @pinkiemme's art since it's HUNTER! :D

“Seriously?” you sighed. “This again?”

“This is completely different than last time,” came the smooth reply, earning both a snort and an eyeroll from you.

“It’s almost exactly the same.”

“Different arm.”

“Oh my gosh.” Your almost-laugh was overshadowed by concern and frustration as you made quick work of the injury and carefully wrapped the gauze around his bicep, trying not to pay too close attention to the gentle curves of the muscles and tendons, the light dusting of hair, the scars and bruises… You cleared your throat, shaking your head minutely and looking back up to his face. That wasn’t any better. His sharp eyes gazed steadily at you, framed by his distinctive nose and the strands of hair that brushed the sides of his face.

“Well thanks as always,” he said quietly, the hint of a rare smile touching the corner of his lips, which were almost always curved in the ghost of a frown from the burdens he carried. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, instead nodding and picking up your datapad abruptly to see what else was on the agenda for the Kamino medical bay that day. You looked back to him, offering a small smile and an honest exhortation.

“Take care of yourself, Hunter.”

* * *

You were surprised to see him only a week later, stepping into line behind you in the mess hall with the rest of his squad. They were normally a boisterous bunch, but there seemed to be a heaviness upon them as they moved rather listlessly. Perhaps a mission gone awry, perhaps the regular wear and tear of being mere property in a seemingly endless war. You caught Hunter’s eye as he moved to the front of his group, setting his tray on the shelf beside yours as you slid down the food line.

“You alright?” you asked softly, startling yourself with the gentleness and vulnerability in your own voice and cringing at the fact that you didn’t even lead with a “hello”.

“Yeah,” he said automatically, his flat affect provoking more anxiety than you’d like. You left it at that, unable to stifle the simultaneous warmth and concern emanating from you. You didn’t know what it was about his mere presence, but he exuded both competence and compassion, intelligence and wit, and you perceived the weight of responsibility that hung over his head, both a gift and a curse of his engineered fate.

You’d come to enjoy his med bay visits more and more, although it was never the ideal circumstances to meet. The elaborate fantasies you concocted as you drifted off to sleep were far more appealing, consisting of stargazing cuddles, fancy galas, coffee shop chats, and many other situations you’d want to share with him. As corny as it seemed, more than all of it, you simply wanted to know him, to know the inner workings of his mind, his joys and worries, the things that made him laugh, the way he liked his caf… It wasn’t the first time in your life that you’d harbored a crush for someone who was as unattainable as they were oblivious of your affections, so you settled to daydream and enjoy the times you did get to share.

It helped that your occupation allowed you some quiet moments and gentle touches here and there. Although, perhaps “helped” was the wrong word.

* * *

“We need you in room 6 immediately,” crackled the voice on your commlink, and you set aside the instruments you’d been cleaning and adjusting, heading that way with urgency. When the door slid open, you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body at the sight of a hulking clone on the exam table, covered in dried blood and haphazardly-wrapped bandages. You knew who it was without seeing his face, which was almost entirely obscured, and before your emotions could catch up, you snapped into work mode.

“What are we dealing with?” you asked the others, who were moving in smooth synchronization to free his head and scan him head to toe.

“CT-9903. Explosion and shrapnel, blunt force trauma, multiple lacerations…” your assistant reported, eyes flitting across the scanner screen.

“That’s gonna leave a mark,” your other colleague said, stuffing the wads of bandages into the garbage and pulling on a fresh set of gloves.

“Let’s get to work,” you muttered.

A few hours later, he was cleaned up and sleeping comfortably, one eye closed serenely beneath a spiral of neatly-wrapped gauze that covered the rest of his head. You slipped into the room and tapped the screens, confirming the notes your assistant had entered, then rested a hand on his broad forearm, watching his chest rise and fall and sending out all the comforting and healing vibes you could muster.

“He seems alright,” came a smooth, low voice from behind you, making you jump and emit the tiniest squawk. You whirled around to see Hunter in a chair in the corner, reclining with his legs crossed out in front of him. He’d phrased it as a statement but the inflection of his voice indicated a question, and you exhaled in an attempt to regain your composure.

“First of all, hi. Next time, can you greet me when I come into the room instead of scaring the crap out of me?” you said, accompanied with a little laugh that sounded forced.

“We’ll see,” he returned evenly, keeping his face straight despite your smirk.

“That’s an order, Sergeant,” you attempted, delighting in the slight spark in his eyes as he raised his eyebrows.

“Oh really,” he said, lowering his chin just enough to bring some hair across his forehead as he regarded you with a stare that you could have sworn held a hint of smolder. But perhaps you were seeing what you wanted to see. Your fingers twitched at your sides, yearning to stroke the tufts back from his face… and other stuff…

“Yeah, anyway…” you said suddenly, clearing your throat and turning businesslike all of a sudden. “He should be fine. We’ll run some more tests when he wakes up to check on his hearing. The lacerations should heal easily, and he was lucky enough to avoid any serious contusions, somehow. I don’t know what you all were doing out there but this guy needs a thicker helmet.”

“I’ll make sure to request that from the armory.”

“I’m sure they’ll be wildly helpful and accommodating.”

“Always.”

A silence fell for a moment, then he rose to his feet, stretching to his full height and picking up his backpack. He slung it across his shoulders, along with the concerns and duties that awaited him, and gave you a cordial nod.

“Thanks for taking care of him,” he said with genuine sincerity, regarding you with fondness as he stepped closer. Your heart skipped a beat and you felt frozen to the spot, mind racing with a million scenarios you’d envisioned that started out just like this.

“Just doing my job… sir,” you said feebly, swallowing hard as he moved the tiniest bit nearer. You gazed at his eyes, brown at first glance but peppered with pale green and gray upon closer inspection. You could swear you felt the sparks flying between the two of you… until he spoke, shifting slightly to your side.

“Gotta… head out…” he muttered, and you suddenly realized he had actually been trying to get past you. Flushed with hot embarrassment, you moved aside in a flash, turning away to hide your reddening cheeks.

“Sorry, I didn’t sleep too much last night,” you explained quickly, trying not to stutter. “The old brain isn’t working quite so well today.”

“I’m glad you performed cranial surgery on Wrecker, then,” Hunter observed, and you buried your face in a hand.

“I mean, it wasn’t really surgery, but good point,” you laughed, thoroughly mortified now.

You didn’t see the pursed lips hiding his smile as he turned and disappeared out the door.

* * *

You were deeply saddened at first when you were transferred from the Kamino medical bay to the general medical center on Coruscant. But, as your fellow clone-obsessed friend reminded you, you would be able to go with her to 79s on your nights off, where you could enjoy the company of the types of men you’d come to prefer. It had been a hellish week, with too many patients and too few staff members, and you had worked yourself to the bone. It was as good a time as any to blow off some steam, so it took only a little urging from your friend for you to change into some going out clothes, fix up your hair a bit, and hit the town with her.

Typically one for softness and gentleness, you felt an edge to yourself that night. Perhaps it was the build up of all of the frustrating situations at work, but whatever the cause, you didn’t feel like putting up with any kind of BS. So when the first trooper you walked past tried to smack your butt, you turned on him with the raging fury of a thousand suns and gave him a piece of your mind. Your friend stared at you, dumbfounded, and you heard some chuckles and comments from the crowd. Turning away before you melted into an apology, you stalked off to the corner booth you had left your stuff in.

“That was brutal,” a smoky voice said, and you were floored at the sight of Hunter sliding into the booth next to you. Your friend winked at you from where she stood at the bar, still flirting with a couple of troopers. You stared at him, speechless, and he held his hands up in surrender. “I’ll clear out if you’re going to chew me out like that guy. Just wanted to say hi. Haven’t seen you in the med bay in a while.“

“No, stay!“ You said, more eagerness in your voice than you would like to admit. “They transferred me here…”

“And you just had to get your clone fix?”

You blushed, palming your face before taking a long swig of your drink. It was a stiff one, and a fitting way to end your week.

“Just kidding,” he continued, “We both know you just miss yelling at people.”

“Oh, I’m such a yeller,” you rolled your eyes. You had never been anything but gentle and kind with him and the other patients. And he knew it.

Before long, you both found yourselves lost in conversation, and it felt as though your dreams were coming true. Details of his life and thoughts were flowing freely, well, as freely as possible considering the covert nature of most of his experiences, and the two of you settled into a comfortable rhythm as you nursed your drinks and regarded one another. You shared about your training days, mishaps and mayhem, and your goals for the future. He was happy to listen, answering questions but also content to simply sit. You didn’t want to admit just how much you were thrilled by the entire situation.

“Refills?” You asked, gesturing to the empty glasses on the table. He nodded, but then followed you out of the booth. As the two of you leaned against the bar, waiting to be acknowledged, you tilted your head at him, feeling slightly emboldened for a moment, but it quickly melted when his eyes met yours.

“Yes?” He asked, a smirk on his own face.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he teased. “Looks like you’ve got something you want to say.”

“Maybe there’s lots I want to say,” you clapped back, putting your hand on your hip. “But I don’t think I’m going to.” You gave him a sassy smile in an attempt to hide the complete and total whirlwind of thoughts raging for consideration within you.

He took a step closer, coming into your personal space, and his hand that rested on the bar counter was dangerously close to your waist. You could almost feel his touch, without any contact being made at all. His eyes were dark beneath his brows, his sharp profile illuminated by the colorful lights all around, and your heart skipped a beat.

“You sure?” he purred, a smug look on his face as though he knew the effect he had on you. “Nothing at all?”

“You’re the worst,” you stammered, dropping your chin and fixing your stair on the ground beside you.

“Yeah,” he conceded with a snort. “Well, you still like me.”

Your head flew up faster than a ship jumping into hyperspace, and you stared at him in utter shock as your stomach plunged. Your mouth fell open a little bit as you frantically searched for words, coming up with none and snapping it shut again. He shifted the tiniest fraction closer, looming over you now in a way that would be intimidating if your veins weren’t coursing with adrenaline and the sheer desire to grab his shirt and show him all that you couldn’t say.

“Thought so,” he said with a satisfied rumble of laughter that made your knees weak.

“I don’t… I mean, I couldn’t…” You fumbled hopelessly, turning away a tiny bit as you grappled for any kind of response.

“Hey lady,” a clone voice said from behind you. “ This guy bothering you?” You turned around to see a trooper with his head closely shaved except for some intricate designs along the sides. He was standing tall, an inch or two over Hunter, and had a warm intensity to his gaze that showed genuine concern more than creepiness or bravado.

You looked back to Hunter, who was still leaning on the bar, relaxed and unbothered. He lifted his eyebrows at you, uncharacteristically playful, and said, “Well?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said to the blue-armored clone, who gave you a polite nod before leaving with one last suspicious glare at Hunter.

“So… you were saying?” Hunter poked, tilting his head at you and fanning the flame. Was he flirting? For real? Or just trying to make you flustered, for his own fun and entertainment?

“Now you’re just being cruel,” you whined, and he laughed, an authentic, deep sound that made you swoon.

“I would never.”

“Hunter, we’ve got to go,” a pert voice broke through your fantasy, and you turned to see a bespectacled man with a serious face standing beside Hunter, who looked at you with an unreadable expression as your heart sank and disappointment lay heavy over the two of you.

“Well. Hope I see you again,” he admitted, a wistful tone to his voice as he brushed his fingers across the back of your hand, sending a jolt of electricity through you, and dipped his head in goodbye before disappearing out the front door.

You went home to your “personal massager” that night.

* * *

You were finishing the patient notes for the day as you bent over your screen at work, tapping away with diligence as you looked forward to freedom for the evening. It had been nearly a week since you’d seen Hunter at 79s, and you’d been kicking yourself for not speaking up more, or flirting more, or making a move, or something. You doubted your paths would cross again, as your friend shared that she’d only seen Clone Force 99 at the bar once before, and she was quite the regular. Bringing your thoughts back to the present, you groaned inwardly as your comm pinged with an incoming message, and you considered not looking at it to avoid any calls to stay late. But curiosity got the better of you, and you took a look at the screen.

//18:42//-ENCRYPTED- {Chewed out any regs lately?}

Your mouth fell open, brow furrowed, as you studied the message. It wasn’t an internal memo, nor was it from any sort of source you’d seen before. It couldn't be… Could it? You smirked, curious to try something that might seem inconspicuous if it were, in fact, an error, but might be playful if it were him.

//18:43// - {Unfamiliar source number, identification needed.}

The response seemed to take ages.

//18:47//-ENCRYPTED- {Identification can be provided in the maintenance alleyway of the med center.}

You were embarrassed how quickly you got there.

The door swung open into a long, narrow gap between the large hospital buildings, filled with random parts and trash chutes, and your heart leapt in your chest when you saw his gray and red armor.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, positively thrilled and unable to hide it.

“I… Well… I don’t know,” Hunter admitted with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since we had to leave… So I thought it might need some medical attention.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, the sheer delight of it all cascading over you. “Oh, and a crusty alleyway seems like a very sterile environment.” He grinned, shaking his head, and you caught a glimpse of his own vulnerability, realizing that he, too, was fairly out of sorts when it came to smooth talk and flirtation. Somehow, that made you feel better, and all the regrets and “what ifs” of the last number of days began a relentless protest in your mind. “Well, let’s see what I can do,” you murmured, stepping closer to where he leaned against the wall. His eyebrows climbed up his head, giving away his utter surprise, and the sight gave you tingles.

“I… ah…” he began, but you leaned into him a little, fueled by months of daydreams and a lifetime of self-loathing for all the opportunities you were too cowardly to take hold of. Plus, his sheepishness and his admission were all you’d needed to hear, and there was an undeniable affection in his eyes that melted you to the core.

“Let’s see if we can help you out a bit?” you offered, simultaneously cringing and delighting at the complete and total ridiculousness of it all. But then he tilted his head and lifted a single, curled finger to your chin, tipping it up toward his face and sealing your fate as hopelessly enthralled. His dark eyes glittered with warmth and trepidation, and the next thing you knew, your lips were pressed against his, eyes closed, arms around his neck.

It was so soft, so absolutely mind-blowingly perfect; your entire body was electrified as his own arms wrapped around you. You felt him exhale, his nose against your cheek, and you were overwhelmed with joy at his closeness, his vulnerability, his all-consuming presence that filled your senses. His body formed around yours, his mouth still gently nestled against your own, and you melted a little further into him, wishing that it would never end.

When you finally did separate with a soft smack of the lips, you left your faces close, your eyes darting to his, which remained closed for an extra second before slowly opening with a relaxed warmth that had you feeling weak all over again. You couldn’t resist leaning your forehead against his own, reaching a hand up to caress his cheek for a moment before begrudgingly pulling back a bit.

“Thank you,” you whispered lamely, and he exhaled through his nose.

“Thank you,” he echoed, sheepish and disarmed.

“Please contact me anytime you need any sort of medical attention,” you continued, wrinkling your nose at just how terrible it all sounded, but he snickered, slowly releasing you with a nod.

“My job is quite harmful.”

Are you 18+? Interested in a smutty part two? Click here. ;)

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#the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb one shot #romantic one shot #tbb hunter #hunter x reader #x reader #tbbpromptevent #tbb prompt event

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