Tumgik
#i personally was just having fun and then decided that i needed to suddenly complete all the trophies
ellies-enrichment · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
sorry memes have been lacking the last like two days i was trying to get plat in part 1 before i reached 200 hours 💀
50 notes · View notes
lilystyles · 6 months
Text
style.
Tumblr media
written by @lilystyles
my masterlist xx & style masterlist
authors note inspired by a dream i had about this boy HAHAHA so filthy but that's just him. (also i'm sorry if ur names emma! if it is it's still cute to be best friends w ur name twin :3) ALSO it's also inspired by style (taylor's version)!
brief description y/n has had a crush on harry since they were kids but he’s off-limits. him being her best friend’s brother and all she has never made a move, knowing emma wouldn’t approve. but lines are blurred one night and she doesn’t know if she can follow the rules like a good girl.
warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (m!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, choking, missionary, doggy) sexual tension, mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse. wordcount: [around 11.4k words, also unedited sorry:(]
fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader
* * * * *
Y/n wished she didn’t fancy him. Oh, she wished it so badly.
On every shooting star or eyelash, she had to decide whether she would wish to forget him or for him to finally notice her, it was a constant tug of war between the two.
Honestly, there were so many things going against him. He was completely unavailable to her and she wondered if that’s why she wanted him most. People always say you want what you can’t have. He was older than her by a few years, he was hardly much wiser but liked to act as if he was. 
Or maybe was it just that he was a total prick most of the time, like seriously, so mean? 
She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly attracted her to Harry the most. She knew why others liked him, it was because he was so fucking pretty you just wanted to cry. He was that kind of person. And obviously, she had noticed that slight minor detail. 
She could agree that was one of the many reasons she had a massive crush on him. But she’d known him for years before he was this fuckboy fratboy who wore backward caps with the body of a Greek god and the filthiest mouth you’d ever heard. She knew him before it all. She knew him when he was just her best friend’s goofy older brother, and she’d liked him then too. Before he was smooth and his words had a sting, when he was just this little giggly loud guy.
She thinks to herself often that a piece of her would always belong to him, even if he didn’t know that. She had tried to like other boys, many many times, and though she did like them she didn’t feel even a smidge like how she felt when she saw Harry. The best way for her to describe being with someone who wasn’t Harry was like being in a state of complete darkness, only this dull twinkle of stars without any moon, and then suddenly the sun came up, all these colours painting the sky as it rose. Harry was the sun for her and those boys were just the stars.
Nearly all the time she wished for a distraction from him but that was hard considering he was always around, Y/n saw him every time she went to their house it was like totally unavoidable. They ran into each other at parties even though he was a few years older, it didn’t matter now they that all went to Uni together. She saw him everywhere! Even when she closed her eyes at night.
So tonight when she went out with Emma she was relieved and sad all at once that he wasn’t at the party, it meant she let loose more than she usually did, completely free of the worry of his judgments. She had a few shots but not enough to get her as wasted as Emma was. They danced and sang, and enjoyed themselves. Exams had been stressful and they needed a fun night, they’d spent months cooped up in the library using flashcards and reading the big textbooks. Y/n needed some time away from her laptop screen and desk. She needed to wear a tight dress, get flirted with, have some drinks and relax. She needed to fucking let loose. 
She worked so hard and she was enjoying just forgetting all her worries, Harry included, for a few hours. Sweating and dancing to trashy music was something she had been dreaming of since the start of exam season.
However, the night had taken a slightly sour turn later in the evening when Emma took a few too many tequila shots in a row and spewed down herself, covering her pink dress and shoes and some of Y/n’s shoes too, in sick. She wished she could say this wasn’t a recurring thing but Emma always took it a little too hard on nights out especially when her brooding older brother wasn’t there to help team with Y/n and wrangle her home.
It wasn’t too late probably only midnight, which usually meant they were only just getting started on their drunken shenanigans. But Y/n had to admit she was okay with going home, home being Emma’s place she was roommates with Harry, they were fairly close siblings and their parents felt better knowing they were together. Y/n desperately wanted some water, maybe a snack and to lie down in Emma’s comfortable bed.
As she was trying to find an Uber during the busiest time and hold Emma up from collapsing onto the floor a familiar Irish voice filled Y/n’s ears. She snapped her head around. Oh, thank god.
“Babe! Where are you two off to?” 
Y/n turned, “Niall! Hey, we are going home. Emma isn’t feeling too well.”
Y/n had managed to clean most of the spew off in one of the bathrooms at the Uni share house the party was being thrown at, but Emma was all wet from being wiped down and Y/n knew she needed to get her home like now. She was fading and needed her bed and a bottle of water in her, she wasn’t particularly worried but she would feel better if Harry was with her in case something happened.
“D’ya want a lift? I haven’t drunk anything I’m on my way to Paddy’s place,” He said. He looked very sober.
Paddy was his most recent fling. 
“You are a gem, I could kiss you!” Y/n said squeezing his bicep in thanks.
Y/n was eternally grateful for him being her saviour, she slid Emma into the backseat and clipped her into the seatbelt, brushing the hair from her eyes. Even with sick all over she was still pretty, Y/n envied that the Styles family had such good genes it was ridiculous. They always looked gorgeous, Anne had created three beautiful children.
Niall knew where to go since he was friends with Harry too and Emma and Y/n of course.
Y/n kept checking through the mirror to make sure she was okay and when she saw the familiar home she sighed in relief at the sight. It was this fairly small duplex but their neighbours were nice and the house was one of Harry’s parent’s properties. So they had it pretty good for Uni students. Y/n was living in a big share-house with a bunch of other people. She wished she was this lucky.
She grabbed all their purses, jackets and keys before she kissed Niall on the cheek in thanks. 
“Love you, Babe. Have fun with Paddy!” She winked, knowing Niall really liked this new guy.
Niall blushed a nice rosy colour. “Need any help getting her in?” He asked diverting the conversation.
Y/n shook her head and the two girls stumbled to the front door. Emma was slightly more awake now, her arms slinging around Y/n’s shoulders making the straps of her dress fall as Y/n hunted for the keys in Emma’s little clutch. Y/n had a key to their house for emergencies and she knew where they hid a spare, but she wasn’t going to hunt around in the dark for it.
The door opened before she found them in the clutch which had ten lipsticks that she was rummaging through.
His eyes were so green she felt like they were glowing in the dark. He didn’t say anything he just grabbed Emma and helped her inside. Whispering something to her kindly as Y/n made her way inside behind them. She toed her shoes off before she entered, not wanting to bring Emma’s sick in any more than it already would be. 
Y/n sighed shutting the door behind her as she placed all their things in Emma’s room down the hall. Harry had put her on the bed and was taking her heels off for her. He was a good brother. He was protective over both his sisters even though Gemma was the oldest.
“She always goes to fucking far,” He muttered more to himself than Y/n. Who was finding Emma’s sleep clothes in her bedside drawers, knowing she couldn’t sleep in the sick-covered ones. 
He didn’t sound annoyed at her or angry, just worried. He was a prick sure, but he cared about his family and friends. His small circle is what mattered most to him. Y/n knew his gruff and broody presence was the exterior of a very gentle soul. When he was at home drinking tea in pyjamas that was the real Harry, not some douchebag.
But she knew that he had a reputation for being a heartbreaker and a lot of people would warn you of him. But Y/n didn’t think that was the real him.
Y/n nodded in agreement, tiredly pushing the hair from her eyes she wanted to tie it up it was sweaty from dancing. 
“It’s okay, Niall helped me,” Y/n spoke softly as he stood up from the floor where he’d sat to take her shoes off. He was so much taller than Y/n, his face finally looking at hers now. She felt heat prickle up her back, and the hairs stand on her neck. 
He had such an intense stare.
“I knew I should’ve come,” He said. “I worry when you two are alone.”
Two? She thought. He’d never really shown much protectiveness on his end over her, except when guys were being gross at bars or parties. Then he would give them a stern look and tell them to fuck off. But he did that for anyone, Y/n knew that she wasn’t special. She always felt like Emma was his priority always and he didn’t care what she did as long as Y/n got Emma home safe.
It was almost like he could hear her thoughts. “I don’t like when either of you go without me. The stories Emma has told me about what they say to you Y/n, makes me feel sick honestly.”
She despised the way her stomach flipped. She was about to say that she managed okay without him. But his hand slid onto her shoulder pulling the little spaghetti strap back up over her shoulder. 
She felt breathless but tried to snap back into her usual self. Feeling more pink than usual, Harry always seemed to have that effect on her.
“I- do your frat friends know how much of a softie you are deep down? Be careful now, Styles, I might go around telling them how nice you secretly are. Ruin that scary reputation of yours.”
He smirked in amusement, Y/n had this ability to melt away that hard shell, stripping him bare to his true self. He hated and loved it all at once, he felt like she saw right through him. Even when people said mean things about him, Y/n never wavered and sometimes even defended him. The only thing she didn’t approve of was his restlessness towards women. He felt one was never enough, and was quite open about that with his hookups. Maybe he just didn’t have the right one.
He left after that so Y/n could get Emma ready for bed. He was pottering about in the kitchen and making tea, she assumed. That was his late-night ritual usually.
Y/n shook Emma awake enough so she could help Y/n a little to get her into some pyjamas. She even got her make-up wipes out and removed all the makeup on Emma’s face and tucked her into bed.
Y/n sighed tiredly at the effort of it all and felt sobered up almost completely now. Emma had the downstairs bathroom to herself usually, it was very clean in there. Y/n decided to take a shower and wash the sick smell off her skin and the sweat from the clubs and the dirty Uni sharehouse. 
She washed her hair, face and body. Emma had a lot of really sweet expensive-smelling products, but Y/n had her own little section for when she stayed over. It was all coconut-scented. She felt herself begin to droop in fatigue when she finished cleaning herself. She got the last of the makeup the water hadn’t washed off and changed into a random shirt from Emma’s drawer and some fresh knickers from Y/n’s things she’d left here.
Y/n was here more than she was at her own house. Emma always said she’d kick Harry out and let Y/n take his place, but Y/n knew the siblings actually got on rather well. When Y/n was dressed for sleep she blow-dried her hair on the lowest setting so she wouldn’t wake Emma up, but Emma could probably sleep through an earthquake she was a really deep sleeper. Then she plugged both their phones in and slid in beside Emma tiredly. She shut her eyes and turned off the fairy lights Emma had kept on, ready to lull off.
Y/n had been friends with Emma since they were little they’d all grown up together in Holmes Chapel and it was the kind of place you were just friends with everyone because it was so small but Y/n had always been closest with the Styles family. They lived down the street from each other and Emma and Y/n were never seen without each other. So Harry was used to having Y/n around a lot too. 
Growing up he had to make sure nothing happened to them, he was in charge but it was usually Emma giving him trouble Y/n was always a sweetheart, but she had a quick mouth with one-liners that almost knocked him over. He liked that about her, she was sweet but could challenge him feistily without much thought. He’d met his match when it came to arguments.
Often when the parents went away Y/n would be over and Gemma and Harry would have to make sure neither of them got up to anything wild. But it was usually just a sleepover that consisted of them laughing until dawn. Harry was a much lighter sleeper so he would always tell them to shut up. 
Harry woke up to the sound of a pin dropping rooms away, he didn’t know how his sister could snore like a freight train and sleep through herself. He also didn’t know how Y/n could share a bed with her. Sometimes he’d get up in the middle of the night for a wee or some water and would find Y/n on the couch with a pillow over her face trying to block out the noise of Emma’s snoring. 
So when he heard Y/n roaming about in the kitchen (he knew it was her because he could still hear Emma snoring) he pretended to need some water, wanting to see her. It was probably around 3 AM but he had been unable to sleep. And they hadn’t talked much when she got home. He had wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but he knew better. She had worn a dress that hugged all her features, it was black and simple. Hair done naturally, and makeup that was subtle but just made her that tiny bit more pretty. She always looked pretty though.
He came down the stairs from his room and walked into the kitchen. Y/n was using the fridge as a light to find things. She was making tea by the looks of things. She found some of the chamomile that she used every night, in turn, Harry added it to the weekly grocery list in case she slept the night there, and hadn’t heard him creep downstairs. 
She was in a big baggy dusty blue shirt that Harry actually thought was one Emma had stolen from him, and a pair of soft pink cotton knickers that were very small. Socks covered her feet making her practically silent. He stepped closer into the kitchen waiting for her to turn around and notice him. 
She was trying to be very quiet in every step, knowing Harry was a very light sleeper, and not wanting to wake him. When she finally did look over her shoulder her body jolted in fright dropping the box of teabags onto the floor and a hand falling to her chest. 
“Jesus, H.” She whispered, raspily. 
He let out a breathy laugh. “Sorry, Lovie.”
She squinted in the dark trying to see him. His hair looked messy like he’d been sleeping and he was just in some boxers as PJs. He ran hot in the night.
“Did I wake you?” She asked a guilty look crossing her face. Her eyes softened as she nibbled on her bottom lip.
He shook his head. “Nah. ‘Aven’t been sleeping well.”
She frowned, not liking the sound of that. She didn’t know why she cared, but she did. “Do you want a tea?”
He smiled, dimples showing. “Yes please.”
She brewed two as he whispered the truth about why he didn’t come out with them tonight. He was originally supposed to, and honestly, she had been slightly disappointed about it. Knowing she’d have to handle Emma alone.
But he told her why, in a soft hushed voice. A few guys in his friendship group had said some really mean things to Harry. Not realising he would feel them so deeply, she thought, they must think he was as mean as he seems. He told the story like he wasn’t phased by the mean comments, but Y/n could tell they had gotten to him. She knew better than his cold stone face.
“Alex said ‘I was a homewrecking prick and womanizer’.” He explained when Y/n asked what the boys had said about him. He heard a hint of protectiveness in her voice when she asked with a pinched face, and he felt a tug in his lower tummy. Why did she care?
Y/n looked up from the mugs at him. The dim lighting of the fridge meant she could only see the outline of his body and the shadows of his features. She saw a glimpse of his eyes, and she could see the look in his eyes. He believed them, he believed those comments. They were glassy with discontentment.
Her eyebrows were pinched in empathy, and she was about to speak but he cut her off. “I know I’m a total prick sometimes, but—”
She interrupted him, “—You are a prick sometimes, but people who really know you know what you're like.” She tried to reason with him. Because she wasn’t going to deny sometimes he would be just plain rude to her, and to others as well. But she also knew he did a lot of nice things too. He had a hard exterior and shied off people easily, if you didn’t know him well he would seem rude. But all his close friends and family knew that he was just standoffish with new people. And loved to tease, and was brutally honest, which Y/n had to admit sometimes that hurt more than the teasing comments. 
But he did nice things. Wonderful things, that he went out of his way to do. Like helped his sister when she was drunk, drove people home so they wouldn’t have to walk in the dark after parties, picked Y/n up from the library at midnight if she was too scared to walk home, bought chamomile tea in case Y/n spent the night, made enough dinner in case Y/n was hungry, visited the girls when they were studying with snacks and coffee, and he even helped sometimes if they were confused on work. He called his Mum every day without fail and sent his Grandma photos of birds when he saw them. 
He baked a new type of cookie recipe every Sunday and gave it to his friends. He adopted stray cats and played Scrabble with his grandparents every few weekends.
Yes, he was a prick, he said mean things and made fun of Y/n when she went on dates with idiots, and he called her names, filthy ones. And sometimes he would barely acknowledge her. But she knew there was a different reason for that, something she didn’t understand. Something between just the two of them. She thought maybe it was just a way for him to protect his sensitive side from people. From her too, hide himself away.
And yes, he did have sex with lots of people, but he did always tell people the truth before getting involved with anyone. He was honest, and open when it came to his boundaries. Y/n thought that was better than lying and acting like you wanted a relationship just so you can fuck someone. She wasn’t saying she approved of Harry’s constant line of girls coming over, maybe that was her jealousy talking, but she wasn’t going to judge him for doing what lots of people did and owning that he did it. He would never kiss and tell, he was respectful and clear with his intentions. What more could you ask of a fuck buddy or one-night stand? If you wanted a good shag no strings attached Harry was your guy, and surely most people knew from the rumours? She just didn’t understand why people put themself in that position if they knew what they were getting into with him.
He wasn’t a devious person who hid behind a mask of fake sincerity to get in your pants. He was blunt, he asked if you wanted to fuck and if you didn’t that was fine. He wasn’t picky with it either he just liked to have a good time.
She felt differently about being with a person. She usually only wanted to be with someone she had an emotional connection with. But she had a smaller level of experience than Harry, so she thought that maybe she was coming from the point of view of a less experienced person. But the point remained, Harry had his flaws, like anyone but he was good at his core. His intentions remained good. No one is perfect, and she knew Harry was far from it but so was everyone she knew!
She knew her flaws too. Flaws made people human. And she appreciated him despite it all.
“And what is that?” He was standing closer now and she felt suddenly very aware of the fact she was only in knickers and a shirt her nipples could be seen through. The way he was staring her down made her aware of her appearance, he looked almost hungry.
“Well as someone who’s known you for as long as I can remember. You’re kind, honest, open, and a good person with a rotten mouth.” She looked away from him as she spoke, flushed by his close presence. She tried not to stumble on her words but was struggling and honestly felt her hands tremble when she felt his breath hit her neck.
“Kind?” He scoffed eyes trained on her face, it was free of makeup. Her lips looked pouty and her eyes droopy in tiredness. She looked perfect. She always did. Even that one week during the bleak middle of winter when she had been sick as a dog; red nose, glassy eyes, snotty and nasally, hair unwashed, skin red, she’d looked beautiful.
“Harry,” She said his name meaning she was serious, she usually called him anything but, “these fucking friends of yours clearly don’t see you like we do.”
“We?”
She leaned back against the drawers sighing, “We. Me, Emma, Niall, Gem, Anne. People who know you, people who love you.”
“You love me?” He teased. 
She rolled her eyes. Of course, that’s what he got from that. He was so annoying.  
“You’re alright.” She replied, they both knew she did, handing him the tea. He said a quiet thanks.
He placed it back down, where Y/n was letting hers cool. The face she had made smile only seconds prior melted back to a stoic look, more serious.
He hugged her and Y/n was surprised, but she wrapped her arms around him. He pulled back when he started to get intoxicated on her sweet scent, her skin smelt edible and her hair was soft against his cheek.
“I’m sorry if I’m a prick to you.”
Y/n didn’t mean to but she laughed. A giggle bubbled from her tummy out of her mouth her as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“What?” He said, fighting back the smile that threatened to tug on his lips. It was contagious. He was trying to keep his attention very far from her chest.
She didn’t know what made her say it but, but she told him the truth. “I like it. It's like a game we have. A Harry and Y/n one. I tease you, you tease me. You act like I don’t exist most of the time and I act like I don’t care. You’re mean to me and I let you be.”
Hearing her say it out loud was kind of like being winded. It had always been their game, a game neither mentioned, some sort of unspoken thing they shared. 
She could tell he was kind of speechless. 
“I don’t know why I let you.” Now that was a lie. She was trying to backtrack. 
“I do.” He said stepping closer. His bare legs were pressing into hers. She didn’t say anything, waiting for him to tell her. But he didn’t.
“You gonna tell me?” She said quietly, eyes widely looking up into his, as his hands rested on either side of her on the bench. He leaned in closely. So they were eye to eye.
She was trapped in his arms and had nowhere to look but at him, she squirmed under his smouldering eyes.
“You know why too.”
She didn’t speak. What did any of this mean? She had waited a long time to hear him apologise for being a dick to her, and he just did and she’d told him that she liked him treating her that way. What she meant was, that she liked him, she let him treat her that way because for Harry she would do anything. She didn’t care if that made her pathetic, at least she knew it was, at least she could admit it. I mean, wouldn’t you let him treat you like shit under his shoe if it meant he was at least looking at you with those gorgeous eyes? Could hardly blame the girl.
“Why did you have to meet Emma before you met me?” He almost whined with a soft scoff. As if complaining at fate’s hands for dealing them these cards.
She felt her heart rate speed up. 
“What do you mean?” She asked, playing dumb. He was talking so much and she was practically drunk on his sultry voice. It was so deep and she just wanted to hold onto the sound forever and feel it melt into her spine like it was now, and listen when she wanted to sink into a state of lust.
He lifted one of his arms and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Then she’d be the one who has to follow my rules, and stay away from you. I could be the one in control. Have you all to myself. No sharing.”
Y/n licked her drying lips, as she processed his words. He wanted her all to himself? “Wait, wait, she has a rule to stay away from me?”
Y/n knew Emma didn’t like it when her friends slept with Harry, it was just weird and they would always complain about how mean he was after, or even try and talk about how good he was in bed. She just didn’t like her friends dating or having anything to do with Harry period. But she assumed it was different for Y/n since she knew Harry pretty well and would consider him someone in her close circle. Even if he did ignore her a lot. She assumed she was fine with Harry and Y/n at least being friends. Y/n had bottled all her feelings away for years, she didn’t think that would ever change. Even if Harry liked her back, she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise their friendship.
“You’re her friend, not mine.” He said, mocking Emma’s tone, making his voice all squeaky and high-pitched.
Y/n frowned. Emma had always been weird about this. She could understand to some extent, but sometimes Y/n wished she could just have a normal conversation with Harry. “Why can’t we be friends? I’ve known you my whole life, and haven’t slept with you. I think I should be allowed to have a conversation with you. I think I can handle that without pulling my pants down.”
Harry’s lips kicked up in a smirk, “You aren’t wearin’ any pants.”
“Oh shut up.” She replied cheeks bleeding pink.
“She trusts you.” Harry said trying to make Y/n feel better, “She just doesn’t trust me.”
Y/n smiled at that, trying to lighten the mood once again. “Who would? I mean this with respect, but you are a bit of a slut.” Her hand came up to play with the cross on his neck.
He giggled, “I simply enjoy myself openly. You should try, Y/n, it’s fun bein’ bad.”
She felt her cheeks warm further, “I can be bad,” Y/n argued but it was no use.
“Oh thas’ such a lie, Baby.” He laughed at her statement rolling his eyes, and Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname. He’d never called her that before and it brought a rose colour to her cheeks that Harry adored on her. She was so easy to make nervous. But he didn’t think anyone was as good at it as he was.
“It’s not,” She pouted. 
He cocked his head in challenge. “Name one naughty thing you’ve done then. Bet y’cant.”
She tried to think, that growing up she was relatively good and even now she hardly participated in much other than seeing Emma or Niall and studying. But she felt this urge to impress him, make him proud almost. Or at least shock him.
“I stole a lolly once.”
Harry found a smile slipping onto his face, he’d always seen Y/n as a fairly innocent person. And she was, for the most part. Soft and sweet in real life, like a bunny or puppy. So soft, and you just want to pick her up and put her in your arms and tell her how cute she is. But she had some mischievousness to her, like all people. Something buried underneath her innocent aura, Harry thought of that side of her often pondering what she was like when she wasn’t hiding and she’d been cracked open raw and teased beyond return.
“Oh yeah? Anything else?”
She tried to think of what would shock him but she fell flat. Until—but no she couldn’t say that, it way was too personal. 
“I can see you thinking very hard, c’mon tell me.” He whispered. Y/n shut her eyes. His voice sent shivers down her spine.
Fuck it. It was like she had no control over her mouth, the filth just slipped right out of her pouty lips. She wanted to blame the alcohol, but it was probably just his voice that had her feeling intoxicated.
“Sometimes when I touch myself I think of you.”
Harry practically froze, his lips opening to show he was indeed very surprised to hear that. There was a beat and Y/n didn’t know if she regretted it or not. She was about to tell him it was a joke and run for her life. Change her name, and move to Mexico. Her Duolingo lessons weren’t going to be enough to get by, she’d have to start really learning how to speak properly now.
Until. 
“What do you think about, Y/n?”
She felt herself getting hot, she’d really fucked herself here. He would never let this go. Call it the tequila but Y/n wasn’t lying. Truthfully the only thing that got her off was Harry, she couldn’t cum unless his green eyes flashed in her vision. Which she did feel bad about like she was a pervert. But believe that she’d tried to think of others, or watching porn. But she could only ever think of him. Otherwise, it wasn’t as good, and she didn’t get the release she was chasing.
“A lot of filthy things, H.”
He bit his lip, “Like what?”
He could sense her getting shy once more as she crossed her arms and looked at her feet, cheeks all pink and pinchable. “Don’t get all shy on me now, Baby, whatever you’ve touched your lil’ clit too I’ve probably stroked m’cock too.”
Y/n was surprised, head snapping up at his words, and though he was normally very honest even he seemed a bit more nervous to admit it. He was just as bad as her. And he had such a filthy mouth, but that was not a surprise to her. She was just surprised he thought of her, she never saw herself as particularly desirable. She always imagined Harry to like those people who look good running in slow motion.
It took a lot of courage as she began to speak. “I usually think about you…fucking my throat, using my mouth however you like. I like the idea of those hands pulling on m’hair.”
Harry felt his pants twitch. His expression and dark eyes egged her on to continue. He didn’t know she was such a little minx. He’d always imagine her to like soft, gentle caresses. Which wouldn’t have bothered him, though he was fairly kinky, but he would’ve done whatever she liked.
She didn’t know if he would like this but she felt brave, “Like the idea of calling you Daddy….Want to be good f’you, Daddy.”
That’s what made Harry unable to keep his hands by his sides. He grabbed her face forcing her to look into his eyes. 
“Wanna be good?”
She nodded coyly, eyes wide. His hands were warm and she practically melted into them.
“Sleep upstairs tonight then.” He didn’t ask her, he simply instructed her. And who was she to say no? 
She nodded once again and he patted her lower back as if to say off you go then. She listened and walked slowly in front of him. She felt his presence close by, the sweet citrus and woodsy scent that followed him was right by her nose and she could hear his slow calm breaths.
Her beating heart was thumping against her chest and she wondered how it didn’t fill the quiet house (besides Emma’s window-rattling snores).
He noticed her shaky and anxious energy and his hand slipped onto her waist. “I jus’ wanna hear about y’dreams somewhere comfier, Petal, if thas’ all yeh’ want that’s all we’ll do. Plus I’m saving y’from m’lumpy couch.”
She couldn’t complain about that. 
As they walked inside she was welcomed to the scent of Harry, she’d only been in Harry’s room a few times, but never properly. He ushered her to the bed and she sat down tucking her knees to her chest and resting her chin. Examining the walls of famous singers and art that covered it. In the corner by his desk where the only source of light in his room was a glowing lamp, other than some fairy lights above his bed, was a little picture wall.
In the mess of polaroids and film, she saw one of Y/n, Emma and Harry when the two girls had graduated school. He was between them arms around their shoulders and looking to his left at Y/n who was laughing happily with Emma at Gemma who made some joke about something. Y/n knew the picture instantly because it was one of her favourites of him.
“What else, Baby?” He said softly sitting in front of her, interrupting her thoughts of that day when he’d driven home to visit them for it, and looked over to see him leaning against the headboard, arms interlocked behind his head. 
“You go.” She said, which made Harry laugh.
“I’m pretty filthy Honey, you know me. I don’t know if it’ll be something you like.”
She looked at him stubbornly. “Try me.”
He shut his eyes and only now did she see he was nervous too, “I often find myself thinking about you on your tummy, underneath me, letting me stuff you full while my hands pin yours to your back so that you’re at my mercy.”
She liked that, her tummy twisted in yerning. “I’d like you to be in charge. Help me forget.”
He was looking at her like she was the sweetest most edible thing. “Can I kiss you?”
She nodded and he placed his hands in her hair, kissing her softly at first just a whisper of a touch of two mouths moulding into one. She leaned in further into the warmth of him and hugged her arms around his broad shoulders as the kiss began to deepen, he tasted like a hint of beer and minty toothpaste. Her chest burned with what only could be described as Harry. 
He moaned into her mouth softly, sighing at the taste of her sweet tea-soaked lips. The warmth of her curves pressing into him was comforting, and though he had a desire to completely ruin her until she was crying his name, he liked taking it slow and enjoying this first kiss with her. Exploring her mouth, teasing his tongue against hers, and soft hands roaming up and down her back. 
He rubbed her back under the soft shirt, no bra strap blocking his gentle scratches. She arched into his touch.
After all, he’d been dreaming of it for years and he wanted to take his time, even though he was crazy for her and felt this deep animalistic desire, he was gentle with her. Like she could break if he was too rough.
The kiss began to pick up as she slid into his lap, and he encouraged her to rub against his bare thigh. She ground against his tiger tattoo and he could feel the wetness between her thighs leaking onto him already. She moved slowly and uncertainly, his hands moved from her shoulders down to her hips forcefully moving her against him creating friction that made her create a soft whiney noise in the back of her throat. He swallowed the sounds eagerly.
He pulled his lips away breathlessly and dragged his mouth down the column of her throat, kissing sucking and biting wherever he could. Her skin was soft and she smelt like coconuts and something that was just her. He would’ve eaten her whole if he could. She let out soft breaths and sighs, her hips had stopped moving — too distracted by his magical lips. 
He stopped to look at her. Really looking.
Her lips were more red, almost like she’d been nibbling on them, and they were all swollen from his kissing. Her cheeks were dusted in a warm pink. Eyes wild and doe-eyed looking up at him. She was picturesque. He wanted to remember her like this forever and be able to come back to this moment at any time. He soaked it in, hoping to remember.
“You seriously are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” He said softly running his big hands through her messy hair. His rings were cool on her skin.
“Harry, don’t.” She said bringing her hands to cover her blushing face.
He sighed. “I’m sorry for not telling you every second of every day.”
“Don’t lie, H. I’ve seen the girls you fancy.”
“Only ever fancied you.” He said his hands grabbing hers and moving them away she looked at him, shocked. “Only ever look for your face in a crowd, Baby.”
She didn’t know what to say so she kissed him and he moaned softly when she rubbed herself against him. He was getting harder and harder with each movement until eventually she stopped and moved away. 
“Can I suck you off?” She asked, and the filth was shocking to hear from her soft voice and lips.
He nodded hand stroking her cheek. “Yeah, ‘course.”
She moved down to her tummy between his thighs and looked up at him. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.” She whispered. 
He laughed softly, there she was, there was his Y/n. “Thas’ okay, Love, I’ll teach you.”
She slid her hand up his thigh and her fingers found their way into the waistband of his boxers and began to tug them down when he gave her a nod of approval. His stiff dick sprung out against his tummy, and he was completely naked for her. The head of his cock was oozing precum and it dripped down to his balls. Even his dick was pretty. Which she should’ve expected.
It had a blush-coloured tip similar to the shade of his lips, he was veiny and long. So long that he reached his belly button. He was girthy too and as she moved her hand to wrap around it, he hissed at the contact, and she almost dropped her jaw at the fact her fingers weren’t touching. He smirked down at her.
Her reaction was boosting his ego in just the right way.
“You alright down there, Petal?”
She nodded, her lips grazing against his now throbbing cock. He ached for her. The sight of the swell of her ass and plush thighs was making him very needy. 
And to the surprise of them both she pursed her lips and spat down onto his dick. She was basically drooling all over him, it leaked down over the length of him coating his prick and he practically whimpered at the sight — it was one of his dreams. She then took him into her mouth and began to suck and lick, slowly taking him deeper and deeper. 
His hands had slipped into her hair holding it back from her face and he was letting out loud gravelly moans and sighs of pleasure. He was trying to stop his hips from rolling up into her throat. Her mouth was so deliciously warm and tight against him, he felt like a man deprived of water near a watering hole. Her tongue glided around swirling and sucking and teasing the tip of him. When she began to fondle his balls as well, gently massaging them, he let out a particularly loud whiney noise. She popped out off of him. 
“Shh, don’t wanna wake Emma up.” She said before dripping another trickle of spit onto him and continuing her fast and merciless pace on him. 
“Can’t help it, when you take me like that. S’fucking good.” He said, as his hips jutted into her throat roughly, without realising. “Shit, fuck, sorry,” He said hearing her throat gag on him.
She just went deeper onto him, until her nose was tickled by the snail trail on his tummy. Pulling back when all her breath had gone. She hardly needed to be taught.
She took deep breaths of air and stroked him slowly in her hand, he was panting at her touch. 
“You can use my throat however y’like, Daddy.” She said, voice all raw from his cock having stuffed it just seconds ago, before going back down onto him.
“Just tap m’leg if you need me to stop,” He said and she nodded making a noise around him. His hands pulled her hair up away from her eyes. “sucha’ good fuckin’ girl.” He said pushing her head down once more. Again and again, until he was close to cumming. Which had happened fast, and he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed.
His balls ached for release and her teasing little hands that twisted and stroked him, along with her tongue, had him so loud he’d taken to biting his lip in an attempt to keep his sounds from slipping out. He pulled her off him stroking her cheek gently, swiping some tears away. Her eyes had begun to leak with tears from how deep she was taking him, and it made him throb.
“Gonna’ cum soon, Baby.”
She nodded. “Let me have it please, want your cum. Want it all.”
He stuffed her mouth once more at her words, rutting into her throat until she was gagging and coughing around him. His eyes squeezed shut, “Oh fuck, cummin’,” he hissed. Opening his eyes to watch the sight below him.
Her eyes looked up at him, and that’s what sent him over the edge. With one last thrust, he was cumming, hard, so hard his eyes saw white spots and he shuddered into her. She pulled back coughing, she’d swallowed as much as she could but some of it made its way out and dribbled down her chin. She swiped the rest with her thumb and licked it up.
She was just perfect.
He pulled her up by her chin and kissed her. 
“That was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.” He kissed her again before asking her, “Let Daddy take care of ya’ now, is that what y’want sweet girl?”
She nodded. “Yes please.”
“Good girl. So polite.” He said kissing her forehead. His hand slipped into her underwear circling her clit, which was slick with arousal. “So wet for me.”
She sighed leaning closer to his shoulder, pressing her forehead into him to cover her whines. He started to circle her clit faster, and her hips squirmed against his hand he then started teasing her weeping hole. She moaned deliciously into his neck. Felt so good.
“Come rest against me, my love.” She shifted her body at his command and turned to face away from him. Pushing her back into his chest, her bum tucked right against his stiffy. His legs spread open for her to sit in front of him and he grabbed the waistband of her undies pushing her undies down and she threw them to the side with her ankle. She leaned into his shoulder head tipped back and he watched from over her shoulder. Just like the rest of her, her pussy was beautiful. It was glistening in slick and begging for his attention. Beautiful and spread for him like a flower, her swollen bud was puffy and eager to be sucked, licked, and teased.
His hand slipped past her tummy and began to rub her softly coating his finger in her slick, preparing her for him to slip his fingers in. She sighed breathlessly. 
“Please, Daddy.” She whispered which made his cock twitch from behind her, she felt against her back.
He slowly slipped one in and her mouth opened but no sound came out until he was all the way inside, knuckle deep, which made her let out a broken cry. “Oh fuck, Harry.”
He began to thrust and curl his finger, moving faster and faster. Her tight pussy clamped down onto him, pulsing every few seconds, as she cried out softly into the room. Her cheeks bloomed with warmth and her body squirmed in pleasure as his other hand kept her legs spread for him. His thumb drew lazy circles on her puffy clit which had her pussy leaking even more onto his finger.
“Like when Daddy takes you like this?”
She nodded. “Mm.”
“Say it, Baby, tell me you like it.”
“I lov-love it when you take me like this.” Her voice was so soft and airy.
He began kissing her neck and shoulder, sucking a mark near her ear. She was too distracted to care about it leaving a mark tomorrow. “My pretty Baby, likes when I tease her little pussy?”
She made a whiney noise and her legs twitched almost shutting.
“So sensitive f’me.”
He slipped another finger inside her and she dripped out even more onto him, crying out softly into the hand she’d brought to her mouth, her slick trickled down her thighs too now and he didn’t slow his movements only went harder and faster into her. Loving the way she melted into his touch.
“Gunna’ cum for Daddy?”
She nodded biting her lip. “‘Feels so good. I’m goin’ ta’ cum soon, Daddy.”
He kept going kissing her skin and massaging her thighs and breasts and eventually her legs shook hard, and shut on his hand and she cried out and pulsed rapidly around his fingers, and he could only imagine how good he’d feel with her cumming on his cock like that. She looked so beautiful he felt like he might cum then and there on her back without having even touched himself. As the peak of her orgasm washed over her he slid his fingers out of her and brought them to her lips, giving her just the middle finger.
“Suck,” He told her.
She obeyed sucking dazedly still trying to calm down from her orgasm, when he pulled it out he brought the other one to his lips.
“Mm.” He said softly, she tasted tangy and sweet. 
She took some deep breaths as he held her close. “Thank you.” She whispered softly, shutting her eyes and catching her breath, she can’t remember the last time she came like that. So hard that she felt it in her entire body, so hard she saw stars and couldn’t contain her noises.
“Sucha’ good girl, you’re welcome my sweet girl.” She turned her head to the side and kissed him, very softly and slowly. Nothing feverish and rushed like their previous actions and his hands massaged her bare hips, kneading her plush flesh contently. God, she was just so soft, so warm, so wet, and so perfect. It was like he’d dreamt but better, if that was even possible. He was drunk on her touch.
When she pulled away she looked up at him. “I want your cock, please, I need it.” Her little pleads made his balls ache, and he wouldn’t have to be asked twice by her.
“Okay, Baby.” He said running a hand through his hair. She lifted her shirt over her head and threw it aside, completely bare, so perfect to him. Her nipples harden at the cool air, and her skin pimpled. Her body was perfect, every scar, mole, mark, and spot he’d have happily kissed and run his over for hours if she’d allow it.
He grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it down in the middle of the bed right in front of her. “Why don’t you lie on your tummy f’me, Petal? Rest on the pillow.”
She nodded and put her hips in line with the pillow, her bum sticking in the air ready for him. His hands rubbed her softly, her skin was so smooth under his hands and he wanted to sink his teeth into her plush flesh. She was so fucking perfect, and the way their bodies knew exactly what to do to the other was just magic like they were made for one another. Just like a pair of contrasting colours splashed on a canvas together, it just worked.
“One sec,” He said leaning over to his bedside table pulling out a condom and ripping it open. He slid it over his leaking prick that was already standing tall at the sound of Y/n’s soft moans and perfect, wet, pussy that was waiting to be stuffed full of him. 
Before he slid himself inside her she turned to look over her shoulder. “I ‘aven’t in a while. Be gentle please, Harry.”
He kissed her forehead, “‘Course, Gorgeous.”
He held her hand in his reassuringly as he slowly dipped the tip inside of her, feeling her begin to stretch for him. She was tight, from nerves and the fact he was just so fucking large. She wasn’t nervous because of anything being wrong, she just wanted Harry to like her. She didn’t know how, but he had this incredible talent of making her nervous always. He was just so much more experienced, older, and had much more sex than her. She just worried she wouldn’t be up to his standards.
But when he began to coo her gently and rubbed her back and bum with his hands to relax her, she began to feel less nervous. Harry, though a prick with a filthy mouth and a bit of an attitude problem, would never want anything bad to happen to her and liked her for who she was, as she was. They’d been around each other for years after all, and with that sort of time, you just understand each other. He was a mean prick who had sex with just about anyone and she was a naive good girl who strayed from any attention. But they could still appreciate their differences. She was pleasantly surprised at how well their bodies understood each other too. His cock was the perfect fit for her, and she melted into the pain.
Her thoughts of nervousness were lost when he had stuffed her completely full of him, she could feel the tip of him teasing that spot inside her that she could only ever reach with toys, she let out a whimper. “Fuck, Harry.”
It was millions of times better than anything she’d ever experienced.
He hissed throwing his head back, feeling her stretch around him. “So tight, Love.”
He began to move, keeping true to his word, slow and gentle thrusts. Remaining as shallow with his movements as someone could with a cock that big.
Y/n’s eyes watered in a mix of pain and pleasure. Her hand flew back again to grab his wrist. “S’big, Daddy.”
He moaned at the name, it was just so fucking cute coming from her. He wanted to take care of her when she acted all needy like that, “Yeah? Feels big inside your little pussy, doesn’t it?”
God, he was filthy, he made her stomach curl with desire. She never thought she’d like dirty talk all that much, before this she’d felt it was corny coming from boys but coming from his lips it was the closest thing to heaven she’d ever heard.
She nodded into the bed and took her hand back to grip the sheets but he grabbed her hands and held them behind her back. He used them as leverage to push her back onto him, pinning her hands back, just like he said.
“Feeling alright, Baby?” He asked. 
And she nodded once more. 
“Tell me.” He told her.
“Feels fuckin’ amazing.” She said struggling to find the words, her orgasm had made her foggy and his cock bottoming out made it difficult to think of anything else.
“Feel so good on m’cock, fucking made to take it, Y/n.”
That made her shiver, the pain had started to subside turning into just pleasure now. “Can go faster, H.” She said just above a whisper. 
As he began to go faster and deeper like he’d been desperate to, she got louder and louder, and her pussy made these filthy noises against his cock. He was ruining her completely and she was enjoying every moment. Her eyes turned glossy in pleasure.
He let go of her hands to grab her hips and push her back harder, she began to move her hips to meet his, and he cried out. 
“Fuck,” He swore, tossing his head back stray curlings falling over his eyes when he looked back down at her.
He squeezed the flesh of her ass and moved his hand forward onto her hair gently tugging it backward, as he began to pound into her even harder. 
“Such a pretty little thing, letting me ruin you, what a good girl.” He said his voice all rough and coarse.
She keened clawing at the bed, “Feels so fucking good, Daddy, I love it thank you.”
Even in bed, she was so polite and obedient, that he wondered what she would be like after being edged for a while. Would her obedience turn to brattiness? He would have to try another time. Made him speed up even more at the thought.
“Wanna see tha’ pretty face while y’taking m’cock,” He said deciding to turn her onto her back he got rid of the pillow, flipping her to face him. Her cheeks were flushed rosy pink, her hair a mess from his pulling, and her eyes were practically black her pupils had gotten so big. She was perfect, his perfect good girl, and so beautiful he could’ve cum just looking at her.
He leaned down kissing her lips, as he continued his thrusts. He dragged his lips down along her jaw and down until he had one of her breasts in his mouth. Her nipples were sensitive to his tongue and her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, scratching along the peaks of his back. She felt so close, she couldn’t control any part of herself.
He moved his attention across to the other nipple, massaging the one that had just been marked with his mouth. She was moaning breathily, back arching up into him. She was so sensitive to his touch, so much so that every brush of skin that he dared to touch felt like it was on fire. 
“I’m getting close, Daddy.” She said and he began going even deeper, he could tell by the way her pussy was clamping down onto his prick harder and harder and more often that she was on the brink. It made his stomach turn.
“Atta girl, cum on Daddy’s cock.” Her legs were shaking and she screwed her eyes shut at his words. 
“Don’t stop, please.” She said, clawing his back. 
He didn’t dare change anything he was doing, he stayed hitting that spot deep inside her that made her scream out and claw him extra tightly. She pulled him closer so his mouth was hovering over hers, her legs wrapped around his back and she clawed his arms desperate for her release. She felt her stomach unravelling in the familiar feeling of her orgasm. 
“Gonna- fuck, gonna cum!” 
He felt her pulse rapidly on his cock and whined into her lips at the feeling. She made guttural moaning noise, all loud and high, as her legs squirmed and she shook around him. He helped her through her orgasm, stroking her cheek with his hands pecking her lips until she came down from it.
It was even more intense than her first and his cock greedily continued pounding her hardly giving her a chance to rest. He moved her leg up a bit higher against his hip and began to hit that spot even harder than before. 
She whined hands reaching up to his hair, tugging it, and he moaned. He loved it when she did that
“Can you handle another, sweet girl?” He asked he had no shame in wanting to watch her cum once more. It was too beautiful of a sight you couldn’t blame him, he was greedy for more.
And she nodded tiredly. “Think so. Might have to make me take it though, Daddy.”
Her voice drove him up the wall. “Fuck, so fucking perfect f’me. Love this pussy.” He moved his hand down to rub her clit, he wanted to speed up this next orgasm to be in time with his, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Watching his cock disappear in her was a sight he hoped to hold onto in his mind. It made his eyes roll back in his head. 
He kept throwing his head back and grunting as he continued the final stretch before his orgasm.
“Can you choke me, please? Wanna cum with your hand around m’throat, please.” She asked and it took him by surprise. Little innocent Y/n liked being choked too? God, this really was his idea of heaven. 
“Please, what?” He asked sternly.
“Please, Daddy.”
He smirked, and Y/n knew she was done for. He slipped his free hand around her throat, rings cold to her neck as squeezed the sides, he watched her become dizzy with pleasure and she start to show signs of cumming again, which was good because he didn’t know if he’d last much longer.
“Cum for me please, Princess, milk me with that perfect pussy.” He said his voice all rough and slurring, his pussy had him losing his mind. He was so far gone.
With a few more circles on her clit, and deep thrusts she was squirting all over his cock with an intense grip on his prick. He felt her drip down him around his cock making creating more friction for him to continue his merciless pace.
“Cumming,” She cried out loudly lifting a hand to her mouth to cover it, and Harry had honestly forgotten they were supposed to be quiet. The only thing on his mind was filling her with his cum. She was still feeling the wave of her orgasm wash over her and was loose-lipped and limp as Harry started to feel the knot in his tummy unravel in a familiar feeling of complete pleasure.
Her pulsing pussy was squeezing his cock so hard he couldn’t wait any longer. “Getting close, Baby.”
“Cum for me Daddy, please want your cum so bad,” She pleaded. He released his grip from her throat and let his forehead press into her shoulder as she pulled him closer. Hands scratching his hair and hugging him close to her body. Craving him. 
“Fuck, cummin’ Y/n, cummin’.” He said as his cock twitched hard while he bottom out of her, when his loud moans began to spill from his lips she brought their mouths together and he moaned against her swollen lips. 
Even after cumming he stayed inside her for a moment, absolutely spent, head resting on her shoulder. She gently rubbed his back with her hands and didn’t mind him staying close. Eventually, he lifted off of her and kissed her forehead before pulling out, she winced at the feeling of him pulling out of her ruined pussy.
“One sec, Love.”
She nodded. And shifted her hips knowing tomorrow morning she’d struggle to sit. Her hips would probably be bruised and her body would ache, but she did not care one bit. She wouldn’t change what had just happened. She had the best orgasms of her entire life, and Harry seemed pretty content too. And it had been with Harry, of all people it had been with the one person she wasn't supposed to get with.
He tied off the condom and threw it in a little bin by his desk. He walked inside the en suite in his room (he’d won the coin toss), and wet a flannel. He came back with a warm cloth to wipe her down. She squirmed at his touch, feeling very sore and sensitive. “Sorry, Love, I know, but can’t have ya’ all sticky before bed can I?”
She just nodded once again. He put the flannel back in the sink and switched the light off coming back out to find Y/n limp and star-fished in the middle of his bed on the mess of his sheets. She looked completely spent, her three orgasms had tired her out so much. 
“Y’ want something to wear?” He asked. 
She nodded. “Thanks, Styles.”
He smiled at her usual name for him. “What happened to Daddy?”
“Oh, shut up.” She said blushing, he was probably going to keep bringing that up whenever he could, just to tease her. 
He grabbed a big baggy black shirt and some plaid boxers for from his drawer.
“Y’so cute when you blush, you know?”
She frowned hands moving to her face. “Stoppp!” She whispered loudly.
He handed her the clothes and helped her slide into them, and she half expected to be sent back to the couch downstairs and told thanks for the shag, but he pulled the duvet down the bed and patted the middle of the bed for her to sleep there. She moved to lay in the spot and Harry placed the duvet over her. 
Sliding back on his boxers from before, and running a hand through his messy sweaty hair he looked over at her. “I’ll get us some water, be right back.”
She nodded. “Alright.”
When he came back with two glasses of water he placed them on the bedside table and sighed before rolling in beside her. She turned to face him. “Hi,” she said with a giggle.
“Hi.” He replied with a small laugh too. 
“Your bed's very comfy, Styles.”
“Better than m’couch.” He replied sliding a hand onto her waist to rub her side, soothing her into a restful sleep.
“Much better, should’ve shagged you sooner if it meant bed privileges.”
He scoffed playfully, “Only using me for my cock and the comfy bed, aye?”
She laughed back. “Yeah, obviously, why else?”
He pulled her even closer and turned the tone more serious. “Thank you for before,”
She frowned confusedly. “The blowjob?”
He laughed softly. “No, in the kitchen.”
She laughed at herself. “Oh right,” She said lifting her hand to stroke his cheek which he leaned into. “Well, I like your rotten mouth and shocking brutal honesty and all the rest of you. Don’t worry about those guys.”
He leaned closer, a teasing expression lighting up his face. “You like me?”
She just rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully. 
“I like you too.”
This made her blush. “Go to sleep.”
“C’mere then,” 
She got even closer and fell asleep to the beat of his heart and gentle caress on her back.
The following morning, she woke up early, which was very unlike her, and in a total panic, that Emma might have noticed she was missing from the couch. Harry groaned grabbing her, “Don’t go.”
“Have to, Em’s gonna notice, she’d kill us both.” She said, voice all raspy and eyes bleary. 
He whined not letting go. “Stupid Emma.”
“Shh. I’ll see you later.” She was about to leave back downstairs, but he grabbed her and she watched him waiting for what else wanted from her. 
“Kiss?”
She leaned down and pecked his lips which he smiled at shutting his eyes to go back to sleep, and she left sneaking back downstairs. Sluggishly wrapping the blanket around her and shutting her eyes, even though she was much too giddy to sleep. 
When Emma woke up with a throbbing head she smiled at Y/n and she started making coffee quietly since her head couldn’t handle anything loud. This made Y/n stir, sitting up and turning the telly on sleepily. A re-run of Friends was on and she wrapped herself up in the blanket and sat back watching.
Emma wordlessly passed her a coffee and sat beside her, stealing some of the blanket. They spent the rest of the episode in silence just huddling together for warmth and sipping away tiredly, until Harry’s footsteps could be heard creaking down the stairs.
“Want some pancakes, children?”
The pair nodded. 
Y/n looked over at him smiling to herself, he’d changed into a loose navy crewneck and some pyjama pants. He looked gorgeous, and she was reminded of last night. She'd liked him for years, and now she'd done filthy things with him, would she ever recover?
When the pancakes were ready they all sat together at the table. Harry was a wonderful cook, he made a variety of pancakes.
Blueberry, chocolate chip, plain, some with strawberries and cream. He'd brought out lemon and sugar too because that's what Y/n liked on her pancakes, and lots of fruit for Emma. He'd brought out two big jugs of juice for them and a coffee pot.
“Sleep well, Em?” Asked Harry, with a mouthful of blueberry pancake chewing lazily. How did he even look sexy eating?
She nodded. “Yeah,”
“Me too.” He replied before turning to Y/n, who was mid-sip on some juice, it was a mix of berries and tasted sweet. “Y/n?”
She coughed, choking on her juice, and Harry smirked knowingly. Emma patted her back, “You alright, mate?”
“Yeah, just wrong hole. I slept fine.” Y/n said.
“Hate when that happens.” Harry teased, and she wanted to kick his shin but Emma definitely would’ve noticed.
They all finished their pancakes and after the big breakfast, Emma had an aspirin and told them both she was going back to bed for a nap.
“I might head off then,” Y/n said, she wanted to go home and nap herself. Harry had kept her awake for a good portion of the night after all, and her body was very sore. “I’ll get an Uber.”
“Alright, Babe,” She said hugging her. Y/n kissed her cheek and hugged her back.
“Bye, Babe,” Y/n said with a soft smile.
“Thanks for taking care of me. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Y/n nodded. “Of course, we have to do our monthly movie marathon rain, hail, or shine!”
Emma smiled. “Perfect, get home safe.”
They parted, and Emma went back to her room to sleep. Y/n’s Uber arrived moments later and Harry watched Y/n leave waving with a big devilish grin.
She waved back hopping in the Uber tiredly, as the car pulled away and Harry shut the door, her phone buzzed with a text.
Harry Styles🍒
Can I come over tonight?
Y/n felt a big grin overtake her face. 
what on earth for mr. styles?
Harry Styles🍒
Didn’t get to give a you proper goodbye, did I?
Y/n blushed with a small laugh as she typed back. 
see u at eight
Harry Styles🍒
See you then Baby X
Y/n bit her lip. What had she gotten herself into?
oh and bring snacks 
and that new film u were raving about to niall
Harry Styles🍒
Ok, done. See you tonight. XX
Y/n felt her cheeks heat up similar to last in the kitchen. This was not the Harry she knew, but she didn’t have it in her to complain. She saw flashes of last night of them together and squirmed in her seat.
‘💗💗’ She replied.
When she put her phone down in her lap and stared out at the window she sighed to herself, knowing she was completely done for. Harry had ruined her, she'd never be able to stop thinking about him and last night. However, she had very few complaints about it. Her phone buzzed yet again. She checked it.
Harry Styles🍒 hearted your message.
She smiled even more and shut her eyes, head resting against the leather seat, as she wondered if he was smiling this big too.
2K notes · View notes
glearyyyne · 1 month
Text
we can't be friends (wait for your love)
Tumblr media
Part 2
Synopsis: Here you are at the Brighter Days Inc., hoping it would help you remove Satoru's memory in your fragile heart.
Word Count: 2,787 words
Warning: Heavy angst
Note: This was based on the mv of ariana's latest song, I felt like I need to make that version of the one and only it boy Gojo Satoru! This is best to read while listening to we can't be friends (wait for your love)
_____________________________________________________________
Pen clicking
You stared dully at the paper in front of you that was waiting to be sign. Your mind was all over the place the moment you walked inside with the stuff you used to cherish. With full determination, you decided to end things for your own good.
You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give "Brighter Days Inc." the exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your memory.
            ___ Yes            ___ No       
You sigh, dropping the pen as you try collecting your thoughts by staring at the box beside you that has all of the stuff you had with Gojo.
Satoru...
Oh how that name sounds so sweet yet painful.
Tears swell in your eyes reminiscing those elegant sapphire eyes that used to look at you with so much love that you missed.
Your eyes stumbled upon the white teddy bear, it was his first anniversary gift.
**
"Babe, look here" Satoru spoke with so much happiness.
You two were at the arcades, trying to have some fun after you two finished eating lunch together. "I bet you can't get that" You suddenly told him with a smirk. Satoru looked at you with his competitive look, "I bet you I can indeed get that" he said before putting a token inside the machine to start the claw machine.
The game was super easy, just try and claw a stuffed toy and bring it to where it was supposed to fall but this machine in front of you was known to scam people. That's what you taught, but Satoru proved you wrong.
With determination and focus he had when getting that teddy bear that only cost around a dollar to some store, he managed to safely get the teddy bear after so many tries.
Satoru's eyes widened when the claw didn't let go of the teddy bear when it was brought above as it safely held the teddy bear before dropping to where he could receive it. He screamed in joy not caring about the people around him.
"Darling! Look! I got it!" Satoru told you with a joyful tone as you giggled at his actions before he gave it to you. "Me? But you worked so hard just to get it" You said as you held the teddy bear with love.
"Yeah, but it shows how much I'll do anything to give you what you want" He said with those soft and loving eyes as if nothing else matters in this world just you and him.
**
When you heard your name being called, you stopped thinking about him as you touched your cheek when you felt a tear-stained. The nurse asked if you were ready to go. "A-ah just a second" you hurriedly said and hastily grabbed the pen to sign the paper.
You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give "Brighter Days Inc." the exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your memory.
          ✓ Yes            ___ No      
You stood up and gave the nurse the signed paper before grabbing the box and head inside the room. The doctor greeted you enthusiastically as he told you to give the nurse the box you were holding.
As soon as you gave her the box, you sat down on the treatment chair with anxiety creeping your body. Feeling your heart start to beat loudly as if fighting you to stop this nonsense.
"Is it your first time? I can see how your eyes move around" The doctor asked with his lightening laugh just to ease you up.
"Yeah, sorry I just really don't know how to calm myself" You said, fiddling your fingers to atleast help calm you down. "Don't worry actually what happens to most of our patients who came here for their first time" The doctor said while preparing the machine.
You looked at the table to see the box again, you felt as if your heart was screaming at you to stop this. 
“So who are you forgetting? We need to know so that we can ask you after this procedure is done” The doctor asked.
“Someone named Satoru Gojo” You were hesitant at first but you answered anyway.
"Don't worry, we'll give you those final moments with your memories before they disappear" The doctor assured you.
"Are you ready?" The doctor asked and with a final sigh, you nodded.
You closed your eyes as soon as you felt the doctor put something on your head. That's where the process begins.
DELETION PROCESS
     1%
**
"Satoru?" You softly spoke when you noticed those white hair that stood among the crowds as he turned around and smiled before waving at you.
He rushed up towards you with a grin, patting your hair leaving you groaning since you just finished brushing your hair. "Stop it! I just brushed my hair!" You whined, slapping Satoru's hand away with a glare.
He only giggled, "You just looked too cute" Satoru then took your bag. "I'll carry this, is there any place you want to see?" He asked.
"Should we go get some coffee?" You suggested.
"Sure, make sure mine is caramel macchiato with extra caramel" He said with a smile. "You and your sweet tooth" You said with a laugh.
"Well I can't really live without sugar and of course you my honey bunch" He said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close to him. You smiled while hugging him back.
**
Tears stained your eyes as you started to see your final moments with your memories.
  DELETION PROCESS
     24%
**
"Happy Birthday!" You flinched when Satoru suddenly surprised you in your shared apartment. The feeling of tiredness and burnt out suddenly left, a smile crept up on your face.
"You didn't have to" You said, dropping your bag to the ground before heading to Satoru. "I have to, because it's your birthday baby," Satoru said, holding the cake near you with the candles being lit already.
"Make a wish" He said
When you first observe how the cake was made, you can see how messy the font was made. It already says that it was Satoru who made the cake. You gently close your eyes and begin making a wish.
Let us stay together, tomorrow as well
You blew the candle with ease, but this is satoru we're talking of course chaos is on his vocabulary. He dumped the cake into your face after he made sure to put out the candle to not hurt you. You stood there in shock before grabbing a handful of cake as you threw it into his face leaving you two a giggling mess. You were curious as to what the cake tasted like. 
“I didn’t even get to taste the cake” You said with a pout after Satoru came back with a tissue to clean your face. “Don’t worry, I made two cakes, that cake earlier is just for fun” He said while wiping your cheeks. “And look! I got you a gift!” He said placing the box that was wrapped well into your lap. 
You stared at the box suspiciously before you slowly unwrapped the present. Sooner, you found what was inside the box that left you gasping in surprise. It’s the stethoscope you’ve been wanting to get after beginning your doctor journey. You stared at him flabbergasted.
He only smiled more and spoke, “Happy Birthday baby”. Tears swell in your eyes before you throw yourself to Satoru, hugging him while thanking him endlessly. He hugged you back, placing small kisses to your head.
**
DELETION PROCESS
48%
**
“I told you to leave me alone!” You shouted, crying hysterically while continuing to run in the rain without any shoes because all you wanted was to run away from Satoru.
But the moment Satoru was able to catch you by grabbing your arm and pulling you into a hug, you cried heavily into his chest. He made sure to take his jacket off to wrap it around you to stop you from shaking in the cold. 
You two stood there by the rain, Satoru was there hushing and comforting you to calm down.
“Shhh, baby, I know how much it hurts but it’s time to move on” Satoru spoke to you, “Toru, I can’t fucking move on knowing my mom died” you said as you stared at him with your red eyes.
“I know, I know but would your mom be happy knowing how her daughter cried in the middle of the rain that will definitely be the cause of your sickness the next day?” Satoru asked that you quickly shake your head.
“See, besides I promised your mom that I will take care of you and I hate it so much when you cry like this” Satoru admitted, his hand gently caressing your cheek. 
“I love you so much that it hurts me too when I see you like this” Satoru spoke in his broken voice.
From that moment, you saw how the usual chaotic, noisy Satoru is gone and it was replaced by this brokenness and pain evident from his face.
“Please, let’s head inside, I don’t want you to get sick” Satoru begged, you slowly stopped crying as you nodded.
Satoru sighs in relief, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before holding you close as you two walk back to your shared apartment that night.
**
DELETION PROCESS
65%
**
“I told you to stay still!” You told Satoru as you giggled trying to stop him from wriggling much as you wanted to put the night cream on his face. 
“But my skin is already clean! I don't know why you wanted to add that to my gorgeous skin” Satoru said, lying down on his back as you tried to put skincare products on his face.
“Just do it for me please?” You begged with those puppy eyes that Satoru can't resist.
“Fine, but I better have my kisses after this!” Satoru demanded.
You smiled before leaning and placing a quick kiss on his lips, “that's all you're getting now” You said with a mischievous smirk.
Satoru only pouted while you continued painting his face with the skincare you were using.
After some time, you finished the night cream and grabbed one of your lip masks. Placing the mask on his lips, Satoru immediately took this chance and swallowed the lip mask only for him to choke.
“You got karma real quick” You said while laughing at him.
“That hurts my pride,” Satoru said while coughing.
“That's why I told you to stay still” You told him, grabbing another lip mask and placing it on his lips again. He stared at you, “Stay quiet for now” You told him with a smile as you took a book to read.
Satoru didn't do much so he closed his eyes to take a nap.
When you take a break from reading, you stare at Satoru with those loving eyes.
How lucky I am to get to be with you
 **
DELETION PROCESS 
78%
**
“What's your problem man?” Satoru spoke before punching the guy in the bar. 
You quickly jump into the scene as you try to stop Satoru, “Stop it! Satoru, we might get kicked out!” You frantically told him.
“I can't stop if he won't shut up about wanting to touch you!” Satoru shouted at you. You sigh as you apologize to the guy but it was too late, the both of you got kicked out of the bar.
“You need to learn how to control your temper, sometimes satoru” You annoyingly said.
“I just can't help it-” whatever satoru you always say that!” You snap at him.
Satoru only stood there, sighing as if he was tired.
“I’m tired, let's just go home” Satoru said but you weren't backing down.
“Oh no, no I’m most definitely tired Satoru! I have to deal with your ass whenever you get drunk!” You shouted in frustration as he was silent.
“I can't face you right now, you either stay with your family or friends for the night” You said as you quickly walked away, Satoru tried to stop you but you still left.
That's where the memory you wanted to rewind your actions as you didn't know this event will cause drastically to your relationship.
**
DELETION PROCESS
91%
The process moves slowly to all of the sweet times you had with gojo before it arrived, to how you two ended your relationship that you always had nightmares about it.
**
You stared completely shocked at what Satoru showed you.
a pregnancy test
Your eyes quickly moved to Satoru wanting him to explain everything.
Satoru only stared down, “I’m sorry, I got someone pregnant” he revealed that left you shaking.
W-what?
“Since when?” I asked, tears are already spilling from your eyes as your body went numb after consuming this information.
“The night we got into an argument after we got kicked out of the bar, I headed to another bar that time and-” Before Satoru could finish, you stopped him.
“You got some random girl pregnant?” You quickly cut him off. Your eyes looked at him to see if he at least felt guilty about what he did but…
There was none
“She’s not some random girl,” Satoru quickly defended.
“Oh, is that so?” You glared at him.
“Are you going to tell me that you fell out of love with me the moment she came into the picture? Is that it?” You angrily asked him.
Satoru only stared at you before nodding.
You sigh as you cover your face, it came too quickly.
“I’m sorry I couldn't keep my promise, I was just getting tired of the constant fighting we had and I think it's best for us to split,” Satoru spoke.
He didn't even show a slight guilt or sadness on his face.
Satoru only tried to hug you but you kept on punching his arm, once he did hug you your punch somehow got lessened only for you to cry loudly in his chest.
“I did love you, I didn't lie when I told you I loved you most of the time. I know I was a jerk for suddenly falling in love with someone but I can't help it” Satoru explained.
But no matter how many times he explained, he will never come back to you.
That day, Satoru left with all of his belongings leaving you alone in that shared apartment that was supposed to be your happy place.
You sat at the couch, staring at the wall trying to process everything, you looked at the picture frame that was from your graduation, and you can see how his eyes used to lighten up with you but now that eyes only looked at you with nothing.
You head to the bedroom and saw how clean it was, it felt so different to the one you’re used to.
You opened the closet to find your clothes only, but Satoru’s red scarf was there. Hands quickly grabbed them as you tried covering around your neck and just cried there.
Months later the news that Satoru and his girl got married, it was decided that you will remove him from your memories as soon as you see an advertisement that helps remove a certain person from your memory.
**
DELETION PROCESS
100%
The moment it hit one hundred, every memory with Satoru was soon replaced. 
The first anniversary gift he got was soon replaced by you hanging out with your friends as you got lucky to win a teddy bear in the claw machine.
Every time he always fetches you after your university was replaced with you walking alone.
Those sweet birthdays you had were replaced with your family celebrating it with you.
The night that you heard your mom died was replaced by your cousin comforting you instead of Satoru.
The bar memory you had was replaced with you fighting your friend for making you two kicked out of the bar.
The day when Satoru told you he got someone else pregnant? Was replaced with your best friend telling you she got pregnant.
Your eyes quickly opened as you looked around and touched your cheek wondering why you were crying. The doctor and nurse quickly went to your side and asked you if you were okay and were asking tons of questions about this person you don't even know.
You got out of the office feeling fresh and left the Brighter Days Inc not knowing the box you had was burned leaving nothing else, not even the scarf you used to comfort yourself after you and Satoru split.
You entirely forgot the person who you used to call your soulmate.
703 notes · View notes
lovekt · 5 months
Text
sleepy nights in november
Tumblr media
pairing; lando norris x girlfriend!fem!reader
word count; 1.5k
synopsis; where practice goes on for a little longer than expected, and you’re extremely jetlagged. (based off of the las vegas gp fp2)
author’s note; this is my first completed fic ahhh! cant believe i actually finished something for once in my life this is a miracle
the library
Tumblr media
LAS VEGAS WAS A BRIGHT CITY. So bright, and yet you were still battling with all-consuming darkness.
You’d arrived more than twelve hours ago. Cameras flashed, questions asked, your mind had been buzzing with excitement for the ever-anticipated Grand Prix at the new track. Hundreds of people; reporters, fans, drivers, bustled about. Drones and tripods followed your every move, microphones bursting your personal bubble, screaming people begging for their caps, shirts and babies to be signed. It crossed your mind more than once that you weren’t a driver, yet the cheers of sheer joy echoed when you walked by.
It was exhilarating, truly. You’d never imagined your life would turn out this way, your face being plastered onto live television, a banner across the bottom presenting you as Lando Norris’ girlfriend.
You’d arrived just in time for Free Practice 2, not getting a chance to find the man in orange before he was off and onto the track for the second time two hours later than scheduled. However, you were soon supplied with a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and a chair to get comfortable with.
It was colder than usual. Your eyes were permanently fixated on the screen above you. No matter how many times you’d watched your boyfriend race, in person or in the comfort of your shared home, it was never any less terrifying. The noises of pure acceleration, the sparks that would occasionally burst from the back of the car, the knowledge of what could happen and what’s already happened several times before. All of it was enough to keep you on your toes, wide awake, and alert every time.
Every single time, except this one.
The low hum of the engine through your headphones did nothing to help you stay focused, time finally beginning to creep its way back up to you. Your boyfriend’s voice calmly updating his engineers, the muffled chatter of the garage, all of it caused your mind to numb and breathing to begin evening out. It was so late. So, so late, and cold.
Your head suddenly lulled to the side causing your eyes to snap open, saving yourself before you slipped off the plastic foldable chair. God, you hoped the live broadcasting cameras were not allowing thousands of eyes to see you right now.
There were some eyes, though, that had seen you. The engineers dressed in orange pottering around were chuckling, they themselves trying to stay awake by toying with tools and fidgeting with other mechanical things that you didn’t understand. Most of them you were quite friendly with by now as you were a frequent member of the McLaren garage, and they all knew you were the one to go to whenever Lando needed a break. They were grateful to have you. An angry Lando is never a fun time.
Which is exactly why they decided to make an executive decision to save you from the concrete floor below. It was only a matter of time before you ended up hurting yourself.
The screen above you began blurring once more, eyes drooping against your will when a hand placed itself onto your shoulder. One of the engineers that Lando was particularly close with was smiling down at you, softly nudging you forward and guiding you to stand up. You looked at him, eyes glossy and brows furrowed, confused.
He sighed amusedly, “I think it’s time for bed.”
Slight slurred protests began to slip out of your lips but were stopped when you wobbled and had to grip onto the top of the chair for balance. The engineer’s hold on your arm tightened and your exhaustion was too heavy to resist as he began leading you towards the driver’s rooms.
You glanced back at the screen showing your boyfriend’s perspective of the car, not wanting to leave but knowing that it’s probably for the best. There wasn’t any action going on, every driver was tired, nobody was pulling any dangerous moves. It was safe enough to walk away, just for a little bit, just this once.
The door to Lando’s driver’s room was opened and you settled onto the small sofa in the corner, wrapping yourself in a papaya-coloured blanket. Darkness enveloped the room as the engineer flipped the switch, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaving you to your thoughts for all of two seconds before a soft voice filled your ears. You’d forgotten to take the headphones off.
Lando spoke to his team, his voice calm and soothing, almost as if he knew you were falling into the depths of unconsciousness in that moment. He was safe. You felt safe.
Tumblr media
The second he’d hauled himself out of the car, helmet removed, and interviews finished up, he was on the search for you. Often, you would wander off as soon as the car had been parked, for a bathroom break or to have a quick snack, refusing to do it during the race.
He walked back to his room as fast as possible, weaving between hundreds of people who he didn’t bother giving the time of day. Usually, he would’ve stopped and had a little chat, but it was so, so late and his whole body felt like it was about to crumble. All he wanted was to find you, get changed and make the small trek back to your shared hotel room.
The door was unlocked when he arrived, a sure sign that you were inside and waiting. But when he opened the door ready to be greeted with a sweet kiss, all he was met with was complete darkness. Weird.
His hand reached for the switch and light flooded the room. Sure enough, there you were, cuddled up in his bright orange blanket and sound asleep. Your face was half covered and smushed into the arm rest, knees curled into yourself and a set of headphones askew on top of your mussed hair.
The smile that had etched itself onto his face grew when he noticed the headphones. You’d fallen asleep whilst listening to him talk, even when he wasn’t with you. Even when you were jetlagged, cold, and exhausted, you still made sure he was okay. His chest warmed at the thought.
Lando placed the bottle of water he was holding down onto the table beside him, trying his best to be as quiet as possible as he changed from his suit to a hoodie. You didn’t move a muscle, only light breaths filling the silent space.
You looked so peaceful, lashes fluttering every so often. The urge to try and squeeze himself onto the sofa with you was strong, but the more logical side of him told him that it was finally time to head back to the hotel, and if you stayed in that position much longer then your neck would be unbearably stiff by tomorrow morning. He loved you more than anything in the world, so he knew you well enough to know that you would be moaning to him about it once you’d woken up, and not the moaning that he enjoyed hearing.
 Carefully, he brushed the tips of his fingers across your cheek, moving a few stray strands of hair. Your cheeks were warm, a contrast to Lando’s cool touch that caused you to pull your face away and tuck it further into the safety of his blanket. His lips twitched slightly. You would hate him for this now, but thank him later, he thought, as he swiftly curled his fingers around the edge of the blanket and pulled it down.
Your skin, exposed to the night air, broke out into goosebumps as you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself. Lando slowly rubbed his palm up and down your arm, bringing his lips to your forehead and kissing you softly.
Your eyelids fluttered open, pupils narrowing to the bright light of the room as an almost silent groan escaped you.
Your eyes darted around for a moment before landing on your boyfriend, crouched down beside you with his hand stroking your hair. He was smiling at you lovingly, eyes squinted and laced with a tinge of mischief. “G’morning, baby.”
You didn’t reply, instead choosing to open your mouth in a yawn directed straight at his face. He chuckled quietly.
“I think it’s time we get you to bed, hm?”
You rested your head back against the armrest, closing your eyes once more, “I’m already in bed.”
“I’m sure you are.” He said, before rising back up to his full height and slipping one hand underneath your neck, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and the other around the back of your knees. Your hand instinctively curled around his bicep as you were lifted into the air, taking note in the back of your mind at how effortlessly he seemed to manoeuvre you.
As Lando began to carefully place you onto your feet, a wave of adoration filled you to the core. He’d just been working for hours straight, and yet here he was taking care of you. The love you had for this boy was absolutely unmatched.
And what better way to show him this than by using the little energy you had restored during your nap to rise onto your tiptoes and press a sweet kiss against his awaiting lips.
920 notes · View notes
auras-moonstone · 9 months
Note
OMG!!! IDK IF YOU'RE TAKING REQUESTS BUT IF YOU ARE CAN YOU DO A NERD!ETHAN X CHEER CAPTAIN!READER. WHERE ETHAN THINKS SHES GOING TO BE REALLY RUDE BUT SHE TURNS OUT TO BE REALLY SWEET?! THEN, THEY TAKE AN INTREST IN EACHOTHER??? YOU DONT HAVE TO BUT IF YOU DO THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH!! AND I LOVEEEEE YOUR WORK!
i have been thinking of doing something like this for a while actually!! hope you like it🤍
i know places — ethan landry
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
word count: 1,872
pairing: nerd!ethan landry x cheerleader!fem!reader
summary: y/n needs help with her english essay and nerdy ethan offers his help
Tumblr media
WHEN ETHAN HEARD HIS NAME BEING CALLED, EVERYTHING STOPPED. It wasn’t the fact that it was literally shouted aloud in the hallway, making everyone’s attention drift towards the person who had yelled it. It was the fact that said person was Y/N Y/L/N—cheer captain and prettiest girl in the school. Why was she saying his name? Actually, how did she even know his name?
Ethan didn’t have time to think, because she was moving towards him like a full on rainstorm and Ethan felt his legs getting weak, as if there were about to fail him. “Ethan!” she said breathlessly from running down the hall.
“H-hi” Ethan replied in a low voice, blood rushing to his face because of the unwanted attention. She was going to say something really hurtful and everyone was going to hear it. Cheerleaders making fun of people like Ethan wasn’t something uncommon, he had experienced it countless of times.
“Shit. I caused a scene, didn’t I? I’m so sorry” she sounded genuine, which made Ethan confused. Where was the insult? “I called your name before you exited the classroom, but you didn’t seem to hear me”. Ethan’s brain seemed to have been failing him because he was not able to utter a single syllable. “Anyways, you left your coat” she showed him the blue cloth that belonged to him with a tiny smile on her face.
He cleared his throat, coming back to his senses “Oh… thank you”
“You’re welcome!” Y/N said with a bright smile. “I’m Y/N, by the way”.
“I’m Ethan” he did an awkward wave, which the cheerleader thought was very adorable.
“Yeah, I know. You sit next to me in English” Y/N let out a little laugh.
The boy laughed nervously “Right, I know, I just thought you wouldn’t remember”
“Well, I remember you, Ethan Landry” she assured him with a smile, making him blush even harder. This reaction brought Y/N a sense of victory, and she decided she enjoyed seeing the boy blush for her “Are you taking the coat or you’re going to keep staring at me?”
“Oh, sorry” he grabbed the coat with shaky hands. That’s when Y/N noticed the piece of paper he was holding and the A+ written in red marker.
“You got an A+ in the Brave new world essay?” she asked surprised.
“Y-yeah” was this the part she was going to mock him? He knew her being nice was too good to be true.
But, once again, she surprised him. “Do you mind if I take a look at it? I didn’t do so well in mine” Y/N asked, feeling a bit embarassed by confessing that.
“Yeah, sure, no problem”
As she read, he took the opportunity to admire her. Y/N’s shiny hair fell flawlessly over her face, creating some kind of curtain. He wanted to tuck it behind her ear, but it would be extremely weird. His eyes then went to her face: her eyes were furrowed as she took in the words written on the paper, and she bit her lip in concentration—Ethan felt the need to brush his finger against it, because that action drove him crazy—and suddenly his heart clenched when he noticed her saddened expression.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly.
“I’m not doing so well in English. If I don’t pass the make-up exam, I won’t be able to keep my position as cheer captain”
“You still have a chance, then” he tried to light up her mood.
“Yeah, but if this is what I have to write in order to pass… I’m screwed. I could never write something like this” Y/N sighed in frustration “Your writing is completely amazing, by the way”
“Thanks. I could tutor you, if you want” the words left his mouth before he could think twice.
“Really?”
Her eyes shone with such hope that he couldn’t say anything but, “Yes”.
Y/N wanted to hug him so bad, but she noticed how uncomfortable he was under the gaze of others, and her touching him was only going to make things worse for him. People were already whispering things such us: ‘Why is Y/N talking to that nerd?’ ‘Does he even go here?’ ‘Isn’t he the one who is always answering questions in Econ?’
She resisted the urge to scowl at every single person in the hallway. Why they gotta be so mean? “Thank you so much! When are you available?”.
“Any day, to be honest. But you have cheerleading practice, so you tell me”
He was so considerate and adorable she wanted to cry. “So make-up exam is this friday, meaning we have today, tomorrow and Thursday. Is it okay if we meet those days at 6:30?”
“Yeah, no problem. Can you come over to my dorm? The library is always crowded during exam weeks”
“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll give you my number so you can text me your address” he handed her his phone and typed her number. “There you go”
“I’ll text you as soon as classes finish”
“Thank you so much, Ethan. You don’t know how thankful I am”
“What if I turn out to be the worst tutor ever?” he joked.
Y/N laughed. “I know you won’t. And even if you were, I’m still very thankful you are spending your free time doing this for me”
He shrugged “It’s my pleasure”
Tumblr media
Y/N STARED AT THE RESULT IN COMPLETE SHOCK. Were her eyes deceiving her? Was Mr. Keating pulling a joke on her?
“Excellent work, Mrs. Y/L/N. Your analysis was espectacular and your writing and vocabulary have improved immensely in such short time” Mr. Keating told her.
“Thank you so much!” she exclaimed, grabbing the paper as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
“May I ask, did you have help or did you study on your own?” there was no accusatory tone, just curiosity.
“Ethan helped me, sir. I definitely wouldn’t have passed without him”
“Oh, that’s nice of him. He’s an excellent student and writer”
“The best” Y/N nodded in agreement. “Speaking of him, I should thank him, for the hundredth time in the past three days”
ethan!!!!!! 🥹
i need to talk to you.
okay! see you after school? 👀
no. right now
oh, everything okay?
yes, don’t worry. i know a place we can talk alone
under the bleachers?
sure. see you in 5?
see you! <3
If there was one thing Y/N knew about Ethan before he even started tutoring her was that he was completely terrified of attention. That’s why they never talked at school, only texted (a lot). Both of them became close, and soon tutoring wasn’t the only thing they hung out for. After they were done studying, she would stay for dinner and a movie, and together they shared their opinions on them.
Y/N also found out that, when he wasn’t around students and their gossiping mouths, Ethan was beyond funny and outgoing. And also, while he was adorable and sweet, Y/N discovered that he had a flirty side—which she enjoyed very much and she always let him know that by blushing like a school girl. It was safe to say that the girl had absolutely fallen for the boy’s charm.
And Ethan fell for her charm too. She was kind, talented, beyond smart—which she always said was a lie, but Ethan was always there to contradict her—understanding, and down to earth. He couldn’t believe he once thought Y/N was a mean, popular, spoiled cheerleader. She was beautiful and amazing and he liked her more than he had expected.
“Ethan!” the girl’s voice instantly made his heart start racing. The brunette raised his head from the book he was reading to see the cheerleader running towards him. Next thing he knew, she threw herself at him, and he fell on his back. Thankfully, he had been sitting so it didn’t hurt.
“Hi there!” Ethan laughed, hugging her tightly. He would never get tired of her closeness.
“I did it!” Y/N exclaimed showing her the exam, still lying on top of him.
Ethan smiled proudly “I knew you could do it! Congrats, cheer captain!”
“Thank you” she whispered, voice cracking.
“Hey… what’s wrong?”
“Happy tears. I just can’t believe I did it” she said, smiling widely. “My friends joked about having to look for a new captain, which I knew it wasn’t a joke at all and they were actually concerned. And my parents were also thinking what they were going to say when I went home with the news that I was no longer a cheerleader… but I did it, Ethan!”
“That’s awful, Y/N” he frowned. She deserved so much better “Are you seriously telling me no one had an ounce of faith in you?”
“Well, there is one person who always betted on me. He would never get tired of telling me how smart I was, even when I was constantly saying the opposite” her eyes looked so bright, he wondered if he would ever be able to look away.
“Oh yeah? So he cheers the cheerleader?” he joked, making her laugh.
“Dork” she beeped his nose “Anyways, you want me to tell you about this guy?” Ethan nodded, sitting up. Y/N remained on his lap. “So, I could talk about him for days, but I’m going to keep it simple and tell you my favorite things about him. First of all, he has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen and I swear I could stare at them forever. He’s very passionate about movies, and his little rants about them are the best thing I’ve ever heard. He gives the best hugs in the world, but then again I might be a little biased because I just love being in his arms”
“You do?” he looked up at her in awe.
“I do” she affirmed. “He’s the only one who sees me as more than just a popular cheerleader. He’s sweet and sincere. He blushes a lot when I compliment him, just like you’re doing right now” she teased. “His smile… holy shit, it makes me forget about everything. Especially when they are directed at me”.
“He sounds handsome and amazing” he joked.
“Oh, he is. And that is why I like him so much” Y/N finally confessed.
Ethan’s jaw almost reached the floor. “You like him?”
“So much it’s physically hurting” she said, fixing the collar of his shirt.
“He likes you too” Ethan cupped her jaw.
“Then he should kiss me”
So he did, and he didn’t care anymore if anyone saw them. Their lips fitted perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle that went together, and nothing had ever felt so right for them.
“I want to be with you, Eth. I know you don’t want people to whisper about you, and I’m afraid if you are with me it’s going to be inevitable. But I want you to be my boyfriend, I don’t care if we have to keep this a secret”
Ethan shook his head “No. No secrets. I want to hold your hand in plain sight, I want to kiss you. Let them say what they won’t, I won’t hear them”
Y/N smiled and went in for another kiss. “Let’s go now. I want to show them I have the most amazing boyfriend in the world”
1K notes · View notes
elsweetheart · 11 months
Text
crystal champagne glasses — bodyguard!abby au
Tumblr media
synopsis: when reader, the millionaires daughter can’t help but misbehave — Abby the no nonsense bodyguard is hired to live in the mansion.
♪ every man gets his wish — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪
cw: fem reader, mentions of money / money problems, overprotective parents, mentions of loss of a parent (not reader), daddy issues lol, sprinkle of mommy issues too, alcohol and drinking, tiny mention of being sick, reader working out mentions, brat tamer abby lol, size kink, reader cries and gets humiliated and angry a lot lol, degradation, masturbation, strap on sex, think that’s it?
an: i had so much fun writing this! this is the quickest i’ve ever written a fic, i think because i’ve been excited to write this one and planning it for ages! now, if you don’t like my writing please click off now. no one is forcing you to read my fics. to all the people who have been excited for this fic, ily and i hope you enjoy it! as always, minors + ageless blogs do not interact with this or any posts / fics of mine. you will be blocked! ♡
You weren’t a princess. You were not a princess. You wished you were, shit — maybe your parents would actually care about you. Unfortunately though, there was no royalty behind your name. Just two millionaire parents who would apparently rather be anywhere else but at home with you.
You had your own hobbies, friends, a life — back at home. But of course, if you had so much as wanted to leave the mansion to partake in such activities, such as socialising (God forbid!) you’d need an escort, a driver, secret security officers stalking you, creeping out all of your friends and more. After a while it just became… not worth it. So you stopped showing up, stopped hanging out with people — and understandably, your invite to meeting up with friends started to get supposedly lost in the post. Things get lonely fast.
Bitterness was hardly the word for it. You understood your circumstances and if you were anything it wasn’t ungrateful. Your father only wanted you to be safe, hence the dozens of hired body guards in and out (But you’ll get back to that in a moment, of course.) Your friends just assumed you didn’t wanna hang out anymore, hence the missed invites. You had only started misbehaving out of bitterne— no, not bitter. Pissed off. Rightfully.
You always felt dread when you saw the answer machine light up red with a new message from the only person who had the number — your father. Where on Earth could he be calling from this time? Perhaps lounging by the pool in Greece or dining at a rooftop garden in Dubai — experiencing the world and bravely taking a moment out of his incredibly busy day to drop you a patronising and vaguely threatening voicemail. Atleast he spoke to you, unlike your mother who’d much rather pretend you didn’t exist because, and you quote, the stress of your misbehaviour ‘gave her wrinkles.’ Your manicured finger hovered over the button before pressing down, huffing out your nose as you stared out at the morning fog over the grassy hills of your land.
‘Good morning darling, dad calling again. You keep missing my calls, which I assume is on purpose so I’m leaving you a message anyways. I’m currently in Amsterdam with your mother and I just caught wind of Malakai the bodyguard quitting ‘suddenly and abruptly’ according to one of the maids. I’ve told you once and I will tell you again, if you don’t stop harassing the guards and forcing them to quit you will be in serious trouble. I mean cut off completely, sent off to work in the city with no more than a shitty little apartment and no money. So, I have decided to give you one last chance. I’ve purchased a bodyguard to live in with you starting Sunday morning so you’re going to have to fend for yourself until then. I searched high and low for this one, apparently they specialise in poorly behaved brats like yourself — so I’m hoping if anything that will whip you into shape. You’ve been through five bodyguards this year and it’s February. I’m serious about my threats. Step a foot out of line and you’re done, your mother and I are deadly serious. I will be calling the new hire at the end of next week to check in on your behaviour. Do not let us down darling, you will regret it. Okay, that’s all. See you when I see you.’
You smile.
Oh, how sometimes things just worked out. A life of your own, with normality and struggle and freedom — no watchful eye breathing down your neck and no lack of purpose weighing down on you. Your father had presented you with the easiest task, piss off the new hire so that you’d be set free. A task you’d grown to perfect, having done so time and time again.
The crackle of wheels on the gravel path leading up to the mansion awakens you on the Sunday morning. You want to grumble, having gotten literally no sleep. You see, you were terribly afraid of the dark — and you couldn’t sleep without your guard having light the fire in the fireplace of your bedroom (The one use you found for the hired help.) You had no idea how to light it and didn’t trust yourself not to burn the house down — so you went without. Hence the awful nights sleep. Where were you? Yes, curious. Rudely awakened and curious.
Your short nightie does nothing to combat the cool morning chill as you get up from the bed, letting your bed covers slide off your body as you traipse over to your window. A black Range Rover, they’re all the same. All the same angry men that drive the same angry car, with the same angry build and the same angry face. You scoff at the memory of your fathers threat on the voice message, stating that this guard was to be anything you weren’t used to before. You knew it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.
Except, you were caught off guard when the door opens. You watch a woman climb out the car, despite the vehicles spacious design she still seemed to unfold like she was inflatable as she climbed out — almost seeming too big for even a car like that. She was built, strong arms and chest, tree trunk thighs and veiny hands. You narrow your eyes at the black sunglasses perched on the bridge of her jagged nose, taking them off as she looks around with a serious expression. She was attractive, you’d admit — but in a way that made you cross. That stupid skin tight black t-shirt and black cargos and thick weighty belt around her waist told you everything you needed to know about her. The militant type, she was going to try and intimidate you with her seriousness. You smirk, seeing this as a challenge. She has no idea what she’s up against.
You rush down the spiral stairs at the sound of her lugging her bags inside. She flicks her braid over her shoulder to glance at you standing there analytically as she does so, biceps bulging as she lifts the heavy black cases into the centre of your foyer stood beneath the chandelier. She looked much too harsh for somewhere delicate like this.
“I take it you aren’t going to introduce yourself.” She speaks after a moment of sorting her bags, closing the front door to signify she was done bringing her things inside. You cling to the tall bannister, toeing the cold pristine marble floor, eyeing her and her things as if each bag had a bomb inside. She stands up to her full height, atleast breaching the 6ft margin and you squint, watching her stretch her arms to relieve herself from the weight of the bags. “Off to a great start already.” She retorts as you ignore her, her long legs stepping over a black duffle bag on the floor toward you.
“Why are your bags so heavy?” You ask quietly, less curious and more judgemental. Who did she think she was moving in here with all that stuff? She takes a long inhale, accenting the muscle in her chest as she places her hands on her hips. Her reply is calm and unbothered.
“I brought my weights with me, and lots of other things I need to stay in my condition. Do you have a name?” Her voice is velvety and more feminine than you expected. Your stomach gets hot and prickly at the sound.
“You know my name. I can bet anything my father told you everything about me infact.” You jut your chin up stubbornly. It’s her turn to analyse now, tilting her head a little to the side as she leans on her hip, eyeing you once over and then again.
“Yeah. Your dad was kind enough to tell me all about you and how you treated your past bodyguards. But when you first meet someone, you introduce yourself. So introduce yourself.” There is a slight bite to your tone and your eyes flutter a bit. You’re used to men being agitated with you, infact you thrive off it— but you’ve never had a woman guard before. Something about the harsh tone hurt you just that little more. Shit, maybe you just had mommy issues.
You mutter your name, eyes laser focused on her clinging to the last shred of dignity you had — but when she gives you a curt nod and an equally quiet ‘There you go’ it perishes in the wind like a dying leaf crumbling away for winter. She turns, looking around at her bags before reaching over for the smallest one. “I’m Abby. As you probably guessed, I’m your new bodyguard.” She walks over to you and holds out the bag. You look at her and then at the bag, and then back at her.
“What am I supposed to do with this, Abby?” You cross your arms with a raised brow.
“You’re gonna carry it to my new room for me. I’m a guest in your home.” She raises her eyebrows, waving the bag infront of you signally for you to take it.
You stare at her in disbelief, before laughing bitterly. “You’re right. You’re a guest in my home. So I’m not carrying shit.” You spin on your heel to stomp up the stairs, but she cuts you off by speaking calmly yet firmly.
“Then you can sleep in the dark.”
You turn back around slowly, wearing a frown that creases your brow. How did she know about that?
“I spoke to some previous guards of yours. Said you were terrified of the dark and needed a fire lit in your room every night. Y’wanna sleep in dark? Or you wanna help me carry my bags?”
You stare her down for a moment, weighing out your options. She’d already dominated the conversation by getting your name out of you so easily, and now she was winning again. However, you were exhausted just from one night of restlessly pacing with your light on — too afraid to turn it off and go to sleep. You needed your sleep. That being said, you scowl and snatch the bag from her hand, the leather of it slapping against your leg as you carry it up the spiral stairs.
“Atta girl.”
You clench your jaw.
The week begins, and as do your antics. Abby wasn’t easily wound up, but that only made you want to go ten times harder. She was a bodyguard, not a babysitter — but she was starting to feel like her duties were beginning to cross wires. She knew your game, knew you were aiming for something — she could see the determination in your eyes everytime you’d sass her back. So, she’d play you back. Not give into what you want.
Her first real duty came on a Wednesday when she was lounging in the living room watching some God awful 2000s police chase show, and in came you — tottering on little heels and a skirt so short and tight she could tell the colour of your thong beneath. Not that she was looking, of course.
She leant her arm on the back of the couch, eyes flitting over you as you rummage for the keys that you were sure had been left by the maid on the coffee table. “Going somewhere?” It comes out nearly as a scoff, smirk etched onto her face and it makes you roll your eyes.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Out with my friends. The ones that still talk to me.” You’re distracted, pulling your small handbag back up onto your shoulder when it slides off, free hand feeling around in a decorative bowl for the key set. Abby stares at you for a moment, which — okay, is a little indulgent. She wasn’t being a creep, she could just appreciate that you looked good. Before you could turn to throw a glare her way she was muttering an ‘alright’ and heaving her heavy, toned body up to stand and stretch.
You turn and look at her questioningly and she stops to return your gaze. “What? You think I’m just living here with you for fun? C’mon, if you wanna go let’s go.” She nods towards the door, but stops after a few steps when she hears you snicker.
“No thanks. I’m a big girl.”
She crosses her arms and the smirk that makes you wanna throw darts at her stupid face returns. “That right? You think daddy just hired me to hang out around the house, then?”
You stare at her, pursing your lips before exhaling through your nose wordlessly — walking towards the door in defeat. You just wanted to go out, it had been so long. You’re sure you could just ignore Abby.
She follows behind you, now swinging her car keys round her finger — so smug. “How were you planning on getting to the club? You live in the middle of nowhere.”
“Uber.”
It’s her turn to snicker, opening the front door for you and standing aside as you walk through. “Yeah. Okay. C’mon.”
Screw her. Because now, for some reason she was in your head.
Maybe you just had a few… weaknesses. You always liked your girls on the masc side, on the buff side — but that was a given. Who isn’t attracted to that, right? However, watching hot girls drive was something else, and Abby was being that something else. You know— hand on the back of your seat when she reverses, bicep bulging when she grips the wheel of her sleek car, the lights of the night time traffic illuminating the way her top lip curled upwards a little and bottom lip pouted. You felt a little relief, knowing it was one hundred percent the wine talking. The wine you’d probably drank a little too much of whilst you were getting ready, playing your music and singing along loudly just hoping it was annoying Abby (It wasn’t, she didn’t even hear.)
Ignoring her would start after the car journey you decided.
And you did, for the most part. Abby gave you your space, sitting a few seats away from your group whilst you had your fun — headache inducing squeals and brain numbing chatter over loud music and strong cocktails not quite interesting the blonde. She was driving, and working — so she couldn’t drink, just sat there all night bored out of her mind. She probably should have been monitoring how many drinks you’d had over the night, because soon you were stumbling off your seat to go and dance— and Abby’s hands were itching to pull your skirt down just a little, the hem climbing up to the swell where your thighs meet your ass. She sits back, just watching. She was here to protect you, not be your personal wardrobe malfunction manager — so that’s what she’d do. Sit back and protect.
God, did you always dance like this when you went out?
She felt her fist twitch on the table at the sight of your hips swirling, but she knew that was just a natural gay reaction. She should probably order you a glass of water, so you could sober up and tone down the sluttyness but she figured she’d let you have your fun for now— you may have been too far gone. Abby wished she was holding a beer or something whilst she stared across at the way you were grinding your ass into your friends crotch, the two of you giggling like idiots all hazy eyed from the liquor.
After a while you amble over to her, everything bouncing and spilling out but you clearly don’t give a fuck. Your guard is caught off guard when you come close, alcohol having decimated any concept of personal space as you lean over to speak to her where she’s sat, bent over with your hands splayed on her black jean clad thighs.
She tries to be subtle in the way she eyes you, her tongue peeping between her lips and eyes widening momentarily at the perfect shot of down your top. “I can’t hear you.” She yells over the music. You come closer and nearly topple onto her completely, Abby’s hands by nature resting on the back of your thighs as you now grip her shoulders. Briefly, she wonders if at a glance anyone thinks the two of you are a couple. She shakes it off ‘cos… you’re still a brat. Hot or not.
“I said, can I go to the bathroom or are you gonna follow me?” You pull back to make sure she’s seeing you attempt to pointedly raise an eyebrow at her, something you would have perfected usually if you were sober.
“Take a friend.” She nods to your most sober looking buddy and you shrug happily, pushing off her and grabbing your toilet partner and rushing off. She was kind of glad you were gonna be out of her sight for a moment, needing to cool off.
She wasn’t sure what happened after that. Abby was getting bored and tired, dropping the ball a little bit — and you must have been sneaking drinks from your friends when she wasn’t looking — because suddenly you were way too drunk, barely able to stand. Enough was enough when she watched you stumble over to the bar, heading to assumably get yourself another drink. Abby followed you, gently taking your arm and turning you around.
“Hey, no more. You’re blacked out.”
Your face screws up into this adorable little pout for a moment before the rage kicks in, brow creasing and fists clenching by your side.
“C’n dooo what I waant. Dompt tell meee what to do.” You thud her in the centre of her chest with your finger, slurring enough to the point where Abby was confident the bartender wouldn’t have served you anyway.
“No. Finish up, you need to go home.” She was stern, and as expected — this garnered the worst possible response, baring your teeth like a dog and digging your heels into the ground like you were about to pounce on her. You exploded into noise.
“Nnno! Fuck you you stupid securererty guard I can’t wait to get rid of youn’d be independent this is such buuullshi—” Your rampage was cut short by Abby sighing, squatting, and throwing you over her shoulder. Her free hand came up without thought, tugging your skirt down to not expose you to the world. You thrashed and yelled for a good ten seconds before giving in completely — by standers and your friends laughing as Abby marched you to the exit. You were asleep by the time she reached the car, and briefly woke up when she’d carried you to bed to demand her to light the fire place. The fear of the dark must have ran incredibly deep, interesting — she noted.
Abby thought that maybe you’d appreciate her cutting your drinks off and halting any further plans to embarrass yourself that night— but she came to learn that if she thought you were bad usually, you with a hangover was ten times worse. If waking up to the sounds of your loud upchuck wasn’t bad enough, you were a whiny, angry bitch relentlessly all day.
“I’m not your servant you know. Stop asking me to do things for you.” Abby walked in with a glass of water and Tylenol upon request, being met with a loud groan instead of a ‘thank you’.
“Do you have to fucking yell everything?” You complain, ironically — louder than her.
She was tired by the end of the day, beginning to wonder if the pay was enough to tolerate your brattiness. Abby had gained a reputation for dealing with difficult clients, perhaps diva-esque or ill-mannered, but often it wasn’t anything a stern talking to couldn’t fix, often intimidated by her height and build enough to shut them up after a few quips. You were effortlessly becoming one of, if not the most difficult and tiresome clients to crack, but she was determined. If Abby was anything, she wasn’t a quitter — which is why when your father called to check in on you, she told him you’d been good as gold, which earned her a glare from you when you’d overheard the whole thing on the way to the bathroom.
You were back to your regular level of shitty behaviour the next day, less whiny and more sarcastic and bitchy which she could tolerate. However, after a month had gone by Abby was finding the irritation harder and harder to control— especially since you had developed an ever so charming habit of putting on your headphones every single time Abby tried to tell you to do something or talk to you in general.
“Like I told you, I’m a bodyguard — not a babysitter. Stop leaving your—” She bounded into the room, stopping when she saw you look her in the eye and pull your headphones over your head, pressing play on your screen to start your music. Abby stares for a few seconds, taking a breath, telling herself to walk away. Be a bodyguard and nothing else. She ignores this, wound up— and moves to stand in front of you, clicking her fingers. Cheekily, you point to your headphones — mouthing a faux-apologetic ‘sorry!’. The blonde scoffs, wondering why she’s entertaining this in the first place and reaches up to yank the headphones off your head, but freezes at your sudden wide eyed yelp.
“Don’t touch me I’ll tell my dad and you’ll get fired!” It’s rambled out, fast and premeditated — like you’d thought of it already and had been waiting to put it to use. Abby glances down at your alight screen, noting the music as paused and wonders if you were ever playing music or was just doing this to bother her. She lowers her hand, because — well, she’s not an asshole — instead turning her palm upwards in gesture to hand them over.
“Headphones. Give them to me.”
“No.”
“Give them to me or I’m not lighting the fire in your room tonight.” She stares you down and you sulk, shoulders dropping and brows furrowing in devastation. Abby would have felt bad if you weren’t such a menace.
You stroppily yank the headphones off your head and hand them over, muttering profanities furiously under your breath as you turn away from her, sprawled on the couch. Your guard nods, disappearing to put them away before leaving you be — heading to the kitchen to make her afternoon smoothie. The sound of her chopping fruit sparked rage in you all over again at how at home she had made herself, and after a minute you were storming in again— bare feet slapping the cold tiles.
“Back for more?” Abby is calm now, content as she focuses on slicing into a banana.
“You can’t threaten me with my fears you know, that’s emotional and psychological abuse. You’re taking advantage of my fears to be in control like — like a coward. Trust me I studied psychology out of a book, I know my stuff.” You stand beside her ranting as she raises her eyebrows with a calm smile, nodding as she listens and finishes up chopping her fruit, beginning to load them into the— your blender.
“Oh? Smart girl then huh?” She teases and you huff, jutting your chin in the air confidently with an ‘mhm’ before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen island counter, deciding to stick around for a while to pester her.
“Very. You could probably learn a thing or two from me.”
Abby twists her body half around in amusement, a mocking expression of being impressed adorning her attractive face. She closes the lid to the blender, keeping one hand on it as she speaks.
“‘That so? Go ahead, tell me what possibly I could learn from you, smart girl.”
Ignoring how ‘smart girl’ made you feel in your underwear, you only a manage a “Well first of all—” before she’s turned the blender on, the loud whirring masking any sound coming from you despite your attempts to yell over it for a few seconds. She nods teasingly, as if she was listening to what you were saying and you huff, giving up. You were usually a master in being annoying, but Abby was giving you a run for your money.
You hop back off the counter, muttering a ‘Big blonde stupid asshole.’ as you storm out the room and Abby lets go of the blend button, snickering to herself and yelling out a non committal ‘I heard that!’ after you.
The following day she had taken you to buy groceries after you’d complained that you’d wanted to do it yourself — Abby, following you around as you loaded up your cart, every so often remembering your duty to annoy her and hitting her with something along the lines of ‘I want my headphones back.’ which would be met with a disinterested ‘Tough luck.’ on her end. You couldn’t believe that she’d been living in your home for one month and you still hadn’t gotten under her skin. Perhaps that’s why the next day you’d let your guard down.
It was the first sunny day of March, the grassy hills in which the mansion sat on still harbouring that frosty bite to the air from winter — but pink blossoms had began to spring on the bushes and trees and the sky was blue, which instantly lifted your mood just that little bit.
You were curled by the large window that morning, still in your pyjamas and holding a mug beneath your chin, gazing out at the bright grass. When Abby had entered the room, she was surprised to hear you gently comment that “The weathers nice today.” — a rare sentence that wasn’t defying or insulting her. Abby looked over to you, noting your peaceful demeanour and deciding to carefully toe the line.
“Do you wanna… go outside today?” She suggested, something the two of them could possibly do together. She almost grimaced, waiting for you to curse her out like usual but instead you paused quietly for a few seconds before responding.
“I can introduce you to the horses.” With that, you hopped off the window seat and disappeared to get dressed. When you returned, your hair was in tidier condition and you wore a dress made for summer with only a thick knit cardigan over the top. She itched to tell you it was still way too cold to dress like that, but figured she didn’t wanna aggravate you before you’ve even made it out the door. Today was the day Abby would get through to you.
You were quieter than usual, assumably worn out and in higher spirits due to the sunshine. You’d received the horses as a gift on your sixteenth birthday — but due to the cold weather and outright depression you hardly rode them anymore, instead making sure they lived a healthy and luxurious life on your land and fed the best foods by their handler (mainly out of guilt.) Abby could tell you’d regret your outfit choice as the two of you walked along the pathway through the lush greenery outside, pulling your cardigan tighter around your body, head tilted as you watched the birds fly over the pond.
“What are your horses names?” She conversed lightly, stuffing her large hands into the pockets of her black bomber jacket.
“Cinnamon and blondie.” You answer quietly, before speaking up a few moments later. “Don’t judge the lack of creativity I was sixteen when I picked the names out.”
The pair of you reach the barn and she huffs a quiet chuckle out her nose, watching you pick up a brush as you approached the brown and blonde horses. “Hey, I think those names are perfectly fitting.”
She wasn’t sure why she wanted you to like her so badly all of a sudden. She partially thought it was because if you did you’d make her life and her job easier — but… no, it was more personal than that. You’d deprived her of seeing your pretty smile so much that she felt almost awestruck at the sight of your peaceful and joyful expression as you gently combed Cinnamons mane. She caught herself smiling as she watched.
The two of you talked. Like actually talked without hurling insults or rolling eyes. You sat on the hay, watching as she fed Blondie a carrot. Abby’s teeth were always so white and perfect, perfecting an already perfect smile. Perhaps you were in a good mood, because the thought of calling her perfect didn’t quite irritate you as much as it usually would.
“Have you even ridden a horse?” You’re still bashful about making regular conversation as you pluck at the hay from the bale you sit on.
“Nah.” She shucks off her jacket, the air in the barn balmier and muggier than the outside. It’s hard to not let your eyes flicker down to her strong arms, so you don’t deny yourself.
“Not even as a little girl?” You question and she chuckles a little.
“I didn’t have horse money.” There’s a pitch of longing behind her tone and you tilt your head, wondering about her upbringing. She senses your inquisition and glances up at you as she continues to stroke the horse. “I didn’t have much money for pretty much my whole life. It was actually why I got into the bodyguard industry. Good pay.” She shrugs one shoulder like it was nothing.
“Did you get to go to public school? Like in the city?” You lean forward with your elbows on your knees, chin balanced on your palms in intrigue. The way you said it sparked some amusement in her, ‘get to go to public school’. Like to you it was some sort of luxury.
“Yep. Got the bus everyday too.” Her eyebrow twitches up with a smirk, turning to walk towards you with her jacket in her hand. Whilst she expects you to pick up on her playful tone and perhaps roll your eyes, you continue to stare up at her in awe— an air of innocent curiosity around you that made her suddenly fight the urge to run a thumb over your cheek. She stood over you, placing her jacket by your side and you preened a little at how big she looked above you like that. Part of you felt mad at yourself for having developed a crush, knowing it was interfering with your plans — but you were touch starved. Really touch starved, so you allowed yourself a little yearning for your strict but not so strict bodyguard.
You clear your throat before speaking quietly. “You’re so lucky.”
At this, she scoffs, dropping down to sit beside you. Your skin felt a little warmer when her thigh pressed up next to yours.
“I wouldn’t say that. Would have traded lives with you in a heartbeat.”
You turn to her with a frown. “My life was boring. I didn’t get to do sneaky, crazy teenager things. I went to a small private school and had my small group of friends there and… we couldn’t do anything without dumb bodyguards riding my coattail. The only time we got privacy was in the girls bathroom, and even then if we took too long they’d come knocking.” You complain, pushing your shoe into the gravel.
“Oh, I see. So you didn’t get to be a bratty teenager so you’re making up for lost years now.” She spoke it with a smile, but assumes she took it too far as along came your infamous eye roll, shuffling away from her on the seat as the irritation snuck back in.
“I am not a brat.”
“And I’m not your bodyguard.” She challenges gently with a smile, nudging her knee against yours. You look at her with a stubborn pout and her smile doesn’t falter. “You’re not really a brat. I can bet you’re a sweet girl that just wants attention so you’re acting out.” Didn’t your father say she was supposed to be tough? Please. You say nothing. Your heart races in your chest but you’re too stubborn to say a word. Maybe you’d let your guard down too much. Roll your eyes again, that’ll do it.
After a moment you look away, not because you were still mad but more so because you were flustered. Sweet girl rung around your head like church bells.
“I know you wanna get rid of me.” She begins and you tense up a little. Way to ruin a nice morning.
“And?”
“I know why. You think you wanna be independent and get away from your parents. You have this… idea of living on your own in the city. Am I right?”
You’re prideful, facing away from her with your chin up. “You’re not wrong.”
She sighs out a little chuckle, shaking her head as she leans forward with her elbows resting on her thighs, head turned towards your profile. “You don’t want that life. Trust me. I’ve lived it and it’s hard.”
“Whats hard is having no freedom, no social life, being followed constantly because no one trusts you to make sensible adult decisions.” You snap at her, turning to look her in the eye.
“So you talk to your dad, try and see eye to eye. Not just… pack up and move out like you’re running away to the circus.” She reasons, like it’s just that simple. Her eyes dart across your face as she sees the rage build, infuriated by the assumption that your father was at all the type to negotiate.
“Theres no just talking to my father, Abby. This is it. This is my life unless I get out of here. I can’t live this way forever.” You raise your voice a little, frustrated at her lack of understanding. “I don’t know what your parents are like, but I’m sure you wouldn’t get it.”
She smiles in that way that people smile when they’re mad or upset, tilting her head down to look at her hands for a moment as she inhaled, shaking her head with a speechless chuckle when she exhaled. “I never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was sixteen. I don’t have the luxury of arguing with my dad like you do. Sorry.” She sarks and your face drops, which sparks a little guilt in that secretly soft heart of hers — because truthfully there was no way you could have known, and she could tell by your face you were immediately mortified. You stumble for words after a moment.
“Look. I can’t forgive my father for practically imprisoning me. We… we have a complicated relationship and I think we always will. He says he cares and then does nothing but ruin my life. But… he’s still my dad. No one should ever have to go through losing their father, especially not at that age. I’m… I’m sorry Abby. I can’t imagine what that’s like.” You speak quietly and she listens, an unreadable expression on her face as she does so. When you finish, her eyebrows flicker up ever so slightly.
“Huh.” She breathes, quietly.
“What?” You furrow your brows, sympathetic expression lingering.
“So you are capable of basic empathy. I had no idea.” She let’s a smile slip and your face drops into one of deadpan.
“Bye.” You go to stand up but she laughs and grips your arm, her strong but somewhat affectionate hand not allowing you to leave her side. You sigh with an irritated pout, facing away from her again. When her chuckles die down, she speaks again, her hand staying wrapped around the flesh of your arm.
“So what’s your plan then. You inevitably get me fired, you move into the city by yourself and then what. Where are you gonna work? You won’t be able to afford living in an apartment by yourself so who are you gonna live with?” She fires at you, realising she’s still gripping your arm and letting her fingers trail down a little before leaving your skin all together. You hate how it leaves goosebumps in her wake.
“I’ll use my family name to get me a job somewhere. As for roommates I’m not too sure, I suppose I’ll have to start looking online.” You smirk, glancing at her out the corner of your eye. “Perhaps I’ll just find a girlfriend first who will let me move in with her.”
The mention of a girlfriend makes heat prickle behind Abby’s ears. She had a sixth sense for these kind of things, most of the time able to tell when someone preferred the company of the same sex — mainly down to her own preferences, and she could tell almost immediately with you. However, it was always pleasurable to get the confirmation that she was infact, once again correct.
“Oh yeah? You think anyone else is gonna put up with that princess attitude but me? You better start working on your game.” She jests, and the mention of her tolerating your princess ways caused you to bite down a little on your bottom lip.
“What, you’re saying you’re not charmed by me?” You joke back for once, turning to face her to bat your eyelashes. She chuckles softly, eyes lingering on you for a moment too long before looking away and pushing herself up to stand by pressing her hands into her knees with a quiet grunt.
“Can’t say the insults and tantrums did it for me. Good luck to you though.” She allows a smirk to flit back onto her pouty lips before she thrusts a hand out, allowing you to take it so she could help you up, once again proving to you both that she was actually more than happy to tolerate that princess attitude she speaks of so poorly.
By the next day, your head is back in the game. All this talk of moving out set you straight, and whilst bonding with Abby in the barn certainly set you multiple steps back — you were back to your old self in no time, dead set on getting her to budge so that you could be free’d from your fathers watchful eye.
You eye your search bar on Google, sprawled on your front on your bed with your laptop open infront of you, having just typed ‘Roommates for sale backspace Roommates in the city friendly and not weird’. As you scrolled through the unhelpful results, your door opened — Abby standing in your doorway.
“Jesus do you ever fucking knock?” You curse, glaring up at where she stands in the doorway wearing her usual tight black tshirt and thick belted cargos and boots.
“Good to see you’re back to your usual self.” She sarks with a dramatic eye roll as she leans on her hip, refocusing (which took an extra second because you’re just wearing a little skirt and top today and lying on your front is making her think things.) “I’ve gotta go get my car serviced so I’m dropping it off at the garage thirty minutes away. You think you can survive an hour without me here?”
You’re not looking at her, continuing to scroll as you wave her off with just a distracted mumble causing her to shake her head and tsk followed by a chuckle as she pushes off her feet, disappearing down the hallway. “I won’t be too long. Stay out of trouble, smart girl.” She calls to you, before you eventually heard the sound of the front door shutting and then her car rumbling around the fountain infront of the entrance and out of the large iron gates. Finally, some peace and quiet.
However, after around thirty-five minutes, you had to admit you’d grown bored. You were home alone, and the room-mate search was coming to just about nothing so you had given up all together for the time being. You flop onto your back on the bed, huffing. Where you’d usually get up with the boredom and go to bother Abby until she argues back — you couldn’t. So, you figured you’d turn to the next best thing, listening to music whilst you do a light work out.
You didn’t like working out when Abby was home, because — as if she were a moth to a flame, she couldn’t help herself from interjecting and gym-rat-splaining everything you’re doing wrong and how to improve. The last time she walked in on you doing pilates, you nearly chucked a weight at her head because she started dishing out unwarranted advice. You knew she did it just to bother you, wearing that shit eating grin on her face when she’d lift a bicep and flex it, stating that it was ‘living proof that you should listen to me.’
You thought also that maybe a workout would help burn off some of the… frustration you woke up with. Perhaps it was the tension ridden barn conversation the two of you shared yesterday, a reminder of your starvation for touch, maybe you just had a load of tempting dreams that you weren’t remembering — but you woke up with your cunt aching and hungry to be filled. You figured this was the real reason behind your bad mood returning with such a vigour, and you couldn’t get yourself off, not wanting to give Abby the satisfaction of walking in (without knocking, no doubt) on you with your legs splayed out and fingers deep inside your wanting hole, probably accidentally moaning her name— or whatever. You couldn’t say the thought of doing so didn’t make things worse though.
When you rolled off the bed and onto your feet, you took a moment to collect yourself at the frustration of remembering that Abby still had your God-damn headphones somewhere, having stashed it away due to you using it as a prop to taunt her. You cursed her out, and then cursed yourself out for getting your beloved headphones confiscated before sighing. If Abby wanted to invade your privacy by not knocking, and taking away your personal items — you could invade her privacy by going into her room and searching for them. Perhaps you could even return them before she was back.
It seemed like a sound plan, so you padded down the hallway until you were met with the door to the guest bedroom where she had been residing. You push the door open, for some reason your stomach twisting in excitement at the small thrill of being sneaky— something you rarely got to experience. The room was clean and tidy, and smelt like her. You push further into the room, looking around and spotting a few of the black shiny duffel bags she’d brought along with her — the rest of her things assumably packed away into the closets. You kneel, unzipping the first.
Your hand sticks inside, rustling about only to be met with metal plated weights and an exercise mat. You huff, zipping it back up and trying the next one. You spot them instantly inside, but tsk when you struggle to pull them out — the headband portion of the listening device tangled with something else. You pull them both out, pulling them apart as you do so and gasp when you realise what you’re holding. A strap on. A harness with a dildo attached.
You drop it, nearly falling onto your back like a spider had just leapt out at you— your eyes widening. Placing your headphones aside slowly, you lift it again — observing it. Why on Earth did she have that with her? Your heart jumped slightly in jealousy, wondering if she was planning on bringing someone over and using it on them. Was she fucking someone, just a few doors down from you? In a moment of sick depravity and curiosity, you slowly bring the shaft beneath your nose— inhaling to smell if there were any… remnants of usage, or at best cleaning products to signify it had been used and cleaned. Your face feels hot in shame as you do so, and it just smells like new plastic. It looked new too. You pull it back, looking at it. It hadn’t been used at all.
“God, Abby.” You whisper as you turn it side to side, harness tickling your leg as you grip the girth of it. It was black and shiny like everything else she owned, roughly 7 inches with veins and thick— just as you expected from the broad bodyguard. There were balls attached too, and you run your fingertips over them gently, lightly pressing down to feel it’s texture. As you do so, translucent white liquid gathers at the tip of the dildo, a small trail of it running down the side of the shaft obscenely. You gasp lightly again as your cunt clenches hard without warning. A breeding strap, now you had only ever seen those in porn videos from your phone screen late at night with a hand down your pyjama shorts.
You’d been fucked with a strap before, of course. You’d had been allowed romantic relationships in the past, and your parents of all things were surprisingly cool with the gay thing. Of course, your father had to background check them first and practically set up play dates with their family (Undoubtably another wealthy family) However, the times you’d experienced with them were all short lived, fumbly and overall incompatible. It was clear that you and your past two partners were there purely to experience some sort of relief from their sexual frustration — which resulted in just rolling around the bed whilst your parents dined together downstairs, them gliding their smaller strap in your tight pussy as you clumsily rut against eachother. The experiences were somewhat fun and naive, but you never got to cum or experience real pleasure and satisfaction.
Oh but Abby, you could tell she had to have experience. She had been out there in the world, seasoned and a few years older than you — and when you look like that, with that kind of body, there was no way she wasn’t having girls in and out her apartment door like some kind of cock carousel.
You felt your wet folds pulsing with need to be touched, and you bit your lip — wondering how much time you had as it seemed to have majorly escaped you. The idea of fucking yourself with your bodyguards strap without her knowing had you wetter than you cared to admit from just your own daydreams in your bed, and you’d decided fuck it, consider it pay back for putting a dent in your plans.
You were squatted on the ground still, but now your skirt and panties were draped messily on the sleek wooden flooring by your side — excitedly holding the strap by the dildo wearing just a tight little crop top and nothing else like you were Winnie the fucking Pooh. It was humiliating in the way that made you reach down, checking and confirming that your slick had gathered across your lower region— pent up and built up from the past few hours of general frustration.
You had no idea how that beast was meant to fit inside of you, but you’d grown desperate — eagerly pulling it downwards and hovering over it, smearing the pearly liquid from the tip around in your slick as the harness clattered against the floor. You let out a sigh, only to realise you were trembling from the adrenaline of doing something you shouldn’t. Biting back an excited grin, you push in slightly — the stretch making you wince, brows furrowing. You let out a harsh breath, whispering ‘Fuck’ to yourself as you do so, just the tip stretching you beyond what you’ve ever taken before. You balance on the flats of your feet, toes curling against the ground and eyes squeezing shut as you try and push in further, the thickness making you quietly cry out, unable to take it properly.
Tears sprung to your eyes, half at the stretch and half in frustration at the inability to fit it inside of you. “C’mon, please.” You whine quietly to no one, walls spasming around the plastic, which now was slick with your arousal dripping down it. You were beyond turned on, to the point where you were starting to feel a little pathetic. You tried to ease up, reaching down to rub your clit to help you along as you take a deep breath, mind trying to ease itself — visions of Abby touching you instead of your own hand, moaning quietly and frustratedly at the thought of her strapping you.
You try and push it deeper, and it seems like your walls are about to let up — but the door flies open and so do your eyes. Your world comes crumbling down in humiliation, your ears ringing and face burning hot; Abby stands before you, eyes wide and jaw slack with pink cheeks.
Your first thought is to pull the dildo out, and the size of it makes you let out a quiet pained whine as you do so. She’s frozen, and the rage takes over you. It’s the most comfortable emotion in a situation like this.
“I told you to knock!” You yell, grabbing your skirt and throwing the dildo to the ground.
“This— this is my room!” Her voice is high and defensive, still processing what she just saw as everything happened so quickly. You pull your skirt up and grab your panties off the floor and to make the embarrassment worse — you burst into tears before you’ve made it out the door, storming past her and slamming the door to your room. The final blow was realising you’d left the headphones behind.
Abby watches you until you’re out of sight before turning her head slowly back to the strap on laying abandoned on the floor, a single drip of what looks like your arousal beside it. Jesus, she thinks, letting out a long sigh and running her hand over her face as she enters the room fully — letting the door shut behind her. She slowly lowers herself into a squat, thick thighs bulging in her cargos as she inspects the scene. Abby lifts the harness, before grabbing the dildo by the suction end and sucking in a hitched breath at how you’d soaked it only a little way down. Your poor pussy, she thinks as her lower region warms guiltily at the imagery now the shock had worn off. “Was a good attempt.” She mutters to herself, tossing the dildo onto her bed and sighing, standing up and stroking beneath her chin in thought. She worries, wonders what you must have thought about her seeing that she’d brought a strap on into your home. You must’ve thought she was some kind of perv, right? How was she supposed to bring you back from this?
As you lay face down on your bed, crying embarrassed tears for an hour straight— you wonder if it would have been less embarrassing if Abby had followed you into your room rather than leaving you to storm off on your own. She probably didn’t want to see you, or speak to you for the matter of fact. You sit up, wiping your cheeks furiously — if that were the case, you had the right to be mad at her. It was her fault, she took your headphones which spiralled into this whole thing. Was it better to let things fizzle out and be awkward? You couldn’t think of anything worse, so you finally rose to your feet again, cleaning up your appearance with your jaw clenched before storming back down the hallway. You were going to finish this, and make her leave for good.
You didn’t bother to knock, because when did she bother? You pushed the door open so hard it bang loudly against the wall, and Abby turned around from her dresser — going through some envelopes, totally unphased.
“I’m taking my headphones!” You practically holler, an accusatory finger pointed right at her. She places the envelope aside as she leans against the dresser crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.
“Okay.”
“And my father will be receiving a call! Yes, I will call him and tell him that you’re rude, you push boundaries, and you don’t ever fucking knock on any door!” You raise your voice even louder, counting off your fingers as she stares at you.
“Again, this is my room and I didn’t know you were in here.” She explains slowly like you were stupid, which only enrages you more.
“This is my house!” You shriek, waving your hands and she pushes off the dresser, stepping towards you.
“Is it?” She frowns. “Do you even pay any rent?”
You falter for just a second, but it’s enough for her to see and nearly smile, which only builds your emotion. “This is my families house. On your very first day here you said that you were a guest in my house, so act like one. My. House.” You step closer to meet her in the centre of the room, eyes boring up into hers as she watched you, unimpressed, tongue in her cheek.
She couldn’t lie, you were hot when you were mad. Infuriating, sure. But hot. Hot in the way where she wanted to shut you up, make you cum until you weren’t fighting back — just babbling aimlessly, frown fully melted from your face. Fuck you until you learnt a lesson. The thought made her stand up a little straighter.
“Yeah?” She tilts her head daringly, and enraged you step up closer, bodies nearly touching just so you could yell in her face.
“My. Hou—” You go to repeat yourself for emphasis but you’re cut off by the feeling of her hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them. When she speaks, it’s calm and menacing. You stare up at her wide eyed.
“You’re not gonna talk to me like that. You’re embarrassed, sweet girl — and I feel for you, but don’t you ever yell in my face like that. You understand me?” She tilts her head further, eyes on you. You’re humiliated, knees knocking into eachother at her calling you sweet girl whilst berating you and you frown, still panting — all hot faced and furious. She uses your cheeks to make you nod and you groan. “Good. If you wanna talk about what happened, let’s talk. But before you come up here and start accusing me of shit, remember that you came in here searching, and you found that,” she turns your face so that you were looking at the strap on laying on the bed. She stays facing you, eyes browsing the side of your face now. Your eyes widen a little at the sight, the memory of using it replaying in your head. “And you decided to use it without asking me.” She steps back a little, eyeing you (not even bothering to hide the hunger anymore). “Okay. Say your piece.” She gestures with her hand and you collect yourself, pulling in a shaky breath.
You admit, the confidence from your tone had vanished. “I was just trying to look for my headphones. I wanted to work out.” You explain and she nods, encouraging you to go on. “You… you brought that into this house, why?” You point at the toy on the bed, the embarrassment starting to slip through again in your pathetic tone of voice.
“Its not your business what I bring with me in my own bag.” Her velvety voice was quick to answer and your brow creased, running out of reasons to shift the blame onto her.
“Well… you can’t bring things like that here it’s — it’s inappropriate.” You internally curse yourself out for stuttering.
“You didn’t seem to have any complaints an hour ago when you were trying to stuff it inside yourself.” She shrugs like she just couldn’t help it from leaving her mouth and in your embarrassment you turn to leave again, walking towards the door. She follows and reaches over your head and shuts it in front of you before you can, grabbing your arm and turning you around so that your back was pressed to it now as she looms over you. “What? Am I wrong?”
“Abby.” You go to complain, but it comes out as a weak whisper.
“Is that why you did it? Maybe you were trying to get caught so you’d have a reason to get all mad and go batshit crazy on me, huh? Still going ahead with that bullshit plan of yours to send me packing?” Abby theorises and you lower your gaze, head tilted towards the ground as you thought. It wasn’t that, you weren’t brave enough. You were genuinely just being disgusting and horny and got yourself caught — which to you was all the more shameful. She knocks your chin up with her knuckle, making you look up at her again. “Or maybe you wanted to get caught so you could be punished. Is that what you wanted? ‘That why you been such a fucking brat?”
“Not a brat.” You huff, though you couldn’t deny it any further than that.
“You know what a brat is? Girls like you,” She poked a finger into your chest. “Who wanna be put in their place so they act out. I’m starting to think that’s just what you need.”
You try and push off the door but she’s blocking you to do so, bodies too close. “Do you really think I’d come in here and yell at you just because I wanna get spanked or whatever?” You bite back, proud of the comeback until she roughly spins you around by the hips so your cheek was pressed to the wooden door, back a little arched. She takes a fist of your skirt and yanks it up, holding it to your lower back making you gasp — fully exposing your bare rear. She chuckles and you wanna die.
“I dunno, didn’t even bother putting on a new pair of panties before coming up in here. Seems to me like you knew what you were doing. Lost the bass in your voice too, smart girl. Where’d all that anger go?” Her hand is gentle when it cups your ass, feeling the meat of it in her hand. You could not believe this was happening. You were mortified. Soaked, but mortified.
You try to fight back with your words, but it’s coming out in little huffs and embarrassed pants at the feeling of her grabbing your ass. “I’m— m’gonna tell — gonna tell on—”
“You’re gonna tell on me?” She snickered. “Are you gonna tell the full story? What you were doing on the floor when I walked in?” She purs in your ear and you can hear her smiling. She’s sick.
You say nothing, because if you’re being honest you’re giving up on your resolve— the feeling of her hands on you just melting your anger away like ice. “No I didn’t think so.”
She gives your ass a light slap, just enough to jiggle it and make you whimper at the suddenness before turning you back around, eyes glancing between yours seriously. “You wanna know what I think?”
You sigh and nod, not trusting your voice at this point.
She gently takes you by the arm and walks you over to the foot of the bed, picking up the strap and holding it. “I think you need to clean my strap for me.”
The way she says it makes you feel hot and bothered, and you go to reach for it to shamefully disappear and wash it in the sink but she holds it out of your reach, raising her eyebrows playfully as she stares you down for a moment. “Not like that.”
She brings the strap down, stepping into the leg holes of the harness before pulling it up and adjusting it to fit her by the hoops at the hip. You watch, trembling — the sight of her standing there with a huge cock something you had only dreamt of, making you squeeze your thighs together. You hated yourself for how weak willed you’d become.
“You can clean it up that smart mouth of yours.” She smiles simply before placing both hands on your shoulders and pushing you down slowly to the ground. She sits too on the edge of the bed, spreading her thighs wide to accommodate to you between them. She wanted you to suck her off? Now that was just degrading. You pursed your lips, trying and failing to ignore the rush of slick seeping from you.
“Abby. Come on.” You whisper and she looks at you for a moment, making you shrink where you were kneeled before leaning forward, gently grasping your chin again, her face millimetres from yours.
“It’s the least you can do.” She threatens before leaning back on her hands, nodding towards her cock. She nearly folds and leans forward to kiss you when she sees the big, sweet, doe eyes you give her — so far removed from your usual glare. If she knew that all she had to do was dom the good girl out of you, her previous month would have been a lot easier.
You gingerly grip the shaft with your hand, bringing your face towards it. God, it smells like you still— to think that only an hour ago you were on the ground trying to shove it inside yourself. Your brows furrow as you kitten lick the top, before suckling on the top with a low moan in your throat gaining confidence. “Good girl.” She praises as you push down a little, sucking harder to the point where you can taste the breeding liquid. You’re not quite sure if it’s meant to be consumed but you don’t care, you don’t care about anything at this point.
You wanna push down further, but you’re struck with a thought and pull off her with a pop— glaring up at her with some of your leftover brattiness.
“What’s that face for?” She hums. You struggle to find your words.
“You… We’re…” You huff, sulkily and she watches the glimmer of longing pass over your face. “You’re making me suck you off and you haven’t even kissed me.” You finally get it out and she smirks, but not totally in a mean way — more so adoringly. Smushing your cheeks again with her hand, she pulls your face in, meeting you in the middle as her cock brushes against your chest as her lips meet yours. It’s a hard, wet, sloppy kiss with your cheeks smushed but it’ll do, and when she pulls off you with a loud smack she roughly rubs her thumb beneath your pouty bottom lip to remove the residual saliva. “Now get back to work.”
She holds back a giggle at the sight of your own pleased smile as you go back down, licking up the sides and cleaning off the plastic — groaning at the residual taste of you clinging to it. This was cruel, wicked even — and you were enjoying it.
“Thats it. Knew I’d be able to find better use for that mouth. Must be tired from running it so much.” Her voice is gentle despite the degradation and it fills your brain with a hazy, muddled fog — not sure how to feel anymore. You pull up for air after taking as much as you can, and as soon as your lips wrap around the dick again, Abby can’t help herself from pressing her hand down on the back of your head gently, muttering a “‘Can do better than that, pretty.” as you gag around her. This seemed to be the first straw in what broke the camels back.
It had dawned on you, half way through sucking her off that after this she was likely just to throw you out on your ass, back to your room to take care of yourself. Getting you on your knees infront of her was her way of winning once and for all, and this was only one last humiliation to shut you up completely. You hadn’t realised you were in your head until Abby was pulling her strap out your mouth, tilting your chin up to her as she leant forward once more. “Hey. Where’d you go just now?”
You try and break away, trying to catch her tip in your mouth again, jaw a little agape and tongue peeping out but she grips your chin more firmly, shaking you a little. “Hey. Look at me.”
“S’nothing Abby. Just lemme—”
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head.
“Then what?”
You suck in a deep breath. “Are you gonna chuck me out after this? Are you… are you only doing this to embarrass me?” She stares at you in perplexity as she watched your mouth turn down, emotions catching up with you as you squeeze your eyes shut — two fat tears sliding down your tears.
“Hey, no.” She’s still a little confused, but she wipes your tears away with the back of her hand anyway. She sighs, pulling you up by the arm and sitting you on her thigh. “Okay. Maybe this kind of thing isn’t for you. That’s okay.”
You wipe your nose, a little calmer and clearer headed now. “I was enjoying it. I think I just… I feel like no one cares about me. It just caught up with me that’s all. We can get back to it.” You go to stand up off her but she holds you tighter, making you look at her.
“I care about you. I stupidly, really care about you.” She speaks sincerely, and you stare at her analytically before realising that she actually truly means it. Abby cares about you.
She pulls you in gently this time, lips locking against yours. It’s not mean, or sarky, or trying to tease you — it’s a real meaningful kiss and you just melt. All that anger, all that competitiveness just melts off you like ice cream on a hot and hazy day. You wrap your arms around her neck, letting her lick into your mouth and dominate your tongue with her own, pulling it in and sucking on it making you shift on her thigh and whimper. You think about grinding down on her thick, cargo covered thighs and how good that might feel after a month of staring at them — but before you can, she’s easing you to lay on your back on the bed.
“Can show you how much I care about you. Maybe we can start over, how’s that sound?” She whispers into the space below your ear, pressing a wet kiss there and you let out a shaky huff, nodding. “Gonna need your words though. That’s how this works, sweet girl.”
“Please show me.”
“Like that, good job.”
Her hands look large, but they feel even larger — especially when they’re beside eachother, running up beneath your top— fingertips brushing over your hard nipples as she tests the waters, smiling against your skin when your back arches up into her, a sensitive whine quietly passing your lips. She slowly drags up your top, pushing herself down your body to pepper kisses down the centre of your chest, letting out a quiet groan of her own when she grips your tit with her hand, massaging the plush flesh. “M—outh” You choke out in a pleasured haze and she chuckles, eyebrows jumping up in amusement as she adjusts her position.
“Should have known you’d know exactly what you want.” She teases before flattening her tongue over the bud of your nipple, pulling back to blow cold air on it to harden it making you wince sensitively. The smile barely leaves her when she dips down, wrapping her pouty pink lips around the bud and sucking, soothing her tongue over it and digging her teeth in ever so slightly, letting them scrape over your nipple when she pulls away. “Fuck, so pretty.” She grits her teeth, reaching up and grabbing it in her hand again letting it jiggle beneath her palm.
You buck your hips again, which directs her attention to your lower regions — forcing her to depart from your breast to continue her journey down your body. She sits up, both hands encasing your waist, rubbing thumbs into your lower ribs gently. “Anyone ever eat your pussy?”
Your breath hitches in your throat at the bold question and your eyes flutter open, not quite remembering when you closed them. “No.”
She grins, like that was just the answer she was after and climbs back down— kissing your stomach and then flipping your skirt up so she could kiss your pubic mound. You shiver, a little insecure but filled with desire more than anything as her hands slide up between your legs. “Open these up for me.” She whispers, and her hot breath wafts over your needing cunt when she reveals it, pulling back to look at it.
You feel your chest and face get hot as she stares— dark eyed and hungry straight at your most private area. “So fucking pretty.” She whispers, thumbs sliding either side of your fat lips and pulling them apart, her brows furrowing. “You always get this wet? Jesus.”
You don’t answer, because you don’t quite have the guts to tell her that you don’t remember the last time someone had aroused you this much, to the point where it’s taken over your body and brain entirely.
She leans in, and you expect her tongue to dart out first — but she spits, directly on your clit making you jolt with a whimper, then chasing it up with the flat of her tongue as her thick arms wrap around your thighs, jaw practically unhinging as she starts eating you like her life depends on it.
You moan, loudly and with less shame as time passes now, grinding your hips up into her face — which she matches by pinning them back down to the bed, only pulling away to briefly grab a cushion from the bed and slot it beneath your hips to elevate you slightly — so fast and expertly you barely realise she’s done it before she’s back to mouthing at your crotch.
“Feels so good!” You whine and she chuckles against you, the vibration of which sends shockwaves through to your stomach. ���Need you to fuck me.” You mutter, more to yourself but she acknowledges it anyway, the hands that were massaging your hips sliding between your thighs.
“If you want to take my cock I’m gonna need to prep you. You saw yourself, s’never gonna fit with how tight you are right now.”
With this new information, you feel her finger tips sliding through your soaked folds gently as she suckles on your clit relentlessly. You whine, trying your best not to clamp down when she slides in her finger, and then another. You were in heaven, panting up to the ceiling as she fingerfucks you, l your hand sliding down to encase itself in her golden hair — glowing from the sunset streaming in through the window.
She moans as she tastes you, brows furrowed and eyes clamped shut like she could feel every movement of her tongue herself. “Gonna give you one more okay? Need to stretch you— still so fucking tight.” She speaks against you and all you can do is nod, in fact at that point you’d probably let her do anything she wanted to you. It was such a relief to drop the act, to just relax and let her take care of you.
A third finger prods at your entrance and you wince as she slowly slides it in, looking up at you to watch your expression — brows pinching and eye twitching at the feeling, walls wrapping tightly round her thick fingers. “There you go, pretty girl. Took that like a champ.” She kisses your hip bone before getting back to work, slowly and experimentally fucking her three fingers in and out, curling them up to grind against your upper gummy inner wall.
“Feel like I’m gonna cum, Abby it’s — it’s so much.” You shake, toes curled so hard they’d gone white and she hums kindly against you, pulling off your clit again with a loud spitty pop.
“I know baby, I know. Let it out.” She whispers, rushed and syrupy like she was too on the precipice of a moan. She moves her tongue in quick successions around your clit as you start to buck and ride against her fingers, a clammy sound matching this — your wetness creating music against her knuckles as you fuck against them. “Cum, smart girl, cum.”
You do, and you’re so full it’s like there’s nowhere for the cum to go — and therefore you feel like you might explode, suddenly letting out loud cries and whines as you shake and jerk on the bed, only to be held down by Abby’s strong arms. She moans too, because you’re dripping down her wrists and her chin — seeming to have a never ending quantity of cum as she laps it up. You taste exactly how she thought you would.
You can’t even tell she’s stopped because your legs are still violently shaking for a minute, coming down from your orgasm felt like it would never end— but you were grounded by the feeling of Abby’s lips on your cheek, sliding her hands under your back to hold you. “I know, it’s okay. Good job.” She cooes into your hair, silencing your nonsensical babbles. She doesn’t push you to move onto the next thing, just stroking your skin and pressing her lips to your skin until you were calm.
Abby feels tugging down below, and looks down between your bodies to see your hand wrapped around her shaft, tugging towards you as your legs fall open again limply. She winces like she can feel it, and she swears she can when you lazily run your thumb over the tip that had drizzled some of the pearlescent liquid out from all the movement. She watches you play with the spillage between your fingers, before bringing it to your puffy cunt, spreading it through your folds and whimpering at the sensitivity.
“Shit, babe.” She sighs out, the room feeling suddenly much warmer. “You wanna continue?”
“Mhm. Was prepping to take you, remember?” You brush the loose strand from her braid hanging over her cheek out of her face. The gesture is intimate, like two lovers who have been together for a while. You almost feel embarrassed again but she turns her cheek and kisses your palm.
She nestles the pads of her fingers into your folds again, sliding around in your arousal and you sigh out at the sensitivity, the urge to be filled returning from its brief satisfaction. “Well you’re definitely wet enough.” She smirks in disbelief, and you can’t believe that there was a time where you would have rolled your eyes at such comments — now only doe eyed and lip bitten as your legs fall open wider. Her fingers are replaced by her strap, sliding up and down — collecting your wetness along it, a whimper leaving you when the tip nudges against your swollen clit.
“Think you’re ready for me?” She asks and before she’s even finished the sentence you moan out a quick and desperate ‘yes!’ making her laugh, keeling into herself with her chin to her chest for a moment. She looks cute and you want to kiss her again. In due time, you think. “How long has it been since you last got fucked?” She continues sliding her strap up and down. Abby secretly thinks she’s stalling, because she wants this closeness to last.
You shake your head breathlessly, trying to clear the fog in order to answer her simple question. Why was she asking questions at a time like this?
“Like — nine months maybe a year?” You answer and she nods, understandingly.
“It’s no wonder you’re so tight. This is gonna be quite a squeeze, yeah?” She looks you deep in your eyes, like she did every time she wanted you to really listen.
“I know, s’okay.” You breathe, and at this she takes your hand in her larger one.
“S’gonna be big. You can squeeze my hand if you want. Deep breath in.” She instructs and you slowly inhale as she pushes in, your hand squeezing hers as you clench around her thick length.
The “Fuck” you let out in a breathy groan is obscene and borderline pornagraphic, which makes Abby fight the urge to bottom out completely and shove her cock inside you fully all at once, but she’s patient, her breath hitching as she reassures you.
“I know, I know.” is all she can say as she pushes in further.
“W—wait.” You tense up a little and she freezes with no hesitation, letting you adjust to the stretch as she drops kisses onto your jaw until you were ready. This happened a couple of times, and she’d oblige to your wishes each time you halt her until she was fully seated inside you.
You felt like the air had been punched out of you, Abby was so deep. “Hows that?” She whispers.
“So big.” You mewl.
“Taking it so well. See, we got it all in the end.” She praises, quiet and gleeful watching you blissed out beneath her.
“Y’not getting paid enough for this, he’s not paying you enough to deal with me.” You babble into her shoulder in regards to her deal with your father, legs trembling around her hips.
“You kidding me? He’s paying me to fuck his daughters pretty pussy, think I’ll be okay.” She scoffs into your neck, sucking wet kisses into the skin there, hips still not moving as you adjust.
“S’not why he’s paying you.” Your nose turns up and she chuckles before lifting her face to hover right above yours, lips occasionally brushing. She begins to move her hips and you both gasp at the feeling.
“How about… instead of arguing with me… you shut up and take my fucking strap.” She whispers temptingly and you go limp again, apart from your hips which twitch against her movements letting her grind her strap in and out of you slowly.
“Oh my god!” You cry, letting go of her hand to wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into you to connect your lips. She lets you whimper against her and suck on her bottom lip whilst she concentrates on finding that angle. She knows she’s struck gold when your legs jerk around her before your heels dig into her ass.
“Faster please Abby, please faster!” You sound deranged, at the point she wanted you all along — cockdrunk and desperate without a care in the world. She clenches around nothing at the thought of just keeping you this dumb all the time.
She speeds up on command, hips smacking against you now as she pulls away to watch the way your tits bounce beneath her. “Oh baby, you’re fucking taking it.” She pants, impressed at how quickly you’ve allowed her to really go in on you. She reaches between you to rub your clit and you squeal, tears springing to your eyes. “Yeah? Want me to rub it? S’it that good, pretty girl?”
“Yes! Please! I— I can’t Abby it’s too — Abby please I wanna— need to cum!” Your hands are curled into her t-shirt adorably which only makes her go harder, practically punching the sounds out of you like a squeaky toy each time she thrusts. You feel yourself teetering over the edge once more, abused pussy relentlessly sucking her in with obscene wet noises attached. Before you can release, your hand reaches down to cup the balls of the strap. “Want it inside, please Ab— please want it inside me—” You ramble and she catches on, and as you tense up, letting out a pained whine as you cum, she slides her hand on top of yours, pressing down to empty the cum lube inside you. The feeling of the warm liquid spurting against your cervix makes you shake, sobbing uncontrollably suddenly as you ride it out.
“There you go, good fucking girl. You like that don’t you? Fuck, letting me breed you like this the first time we fuck? You dirty fucking girl. Such a pretty fucking girl.” She’s babbling too, unravelled by the beauty that was you cumming the way you did. She knew she was good at fucking, but to make someone cry like that was driving her insane.
You’re floating when she pulls out, the two of you breathless and fucked out. Effortlessly, she pushes her hands under your arms and drags you further up the bed until you’re laying against the pillow and she drops down besides you, pulling you into her chest, t-shirt slightly damp with sweat. You listen to her heart thundering in her chest, and it lulls you into a sleepy and relaxed zone, pulling your thigh up over her hip with her help, her thumb stroking the crease where your ass and thigh connects.
“Did so good. The sounds you make are so pretty.” She whispers like she was trying to lull you to sleep. You shift, breath stammering in your throat and nearly choking you when your used pussy glides over her shaft— the veins and ridges catching against your clit making your hips jerk on her, unable to stop yourself from slowly and feverishly rubbing down on her as you breathe heavily in the quiet room.
“Want more, sweet girl?” She cooes, hand running down the back of your head to cup it lovingly.
“Too sore.” It comes out muffled into her t-shirt, aimlessly rocking your hips.
“That’s alright. Just keep… keep doing this.” She relaxes into the bed, kissing your forehead and letting you please yourself, grinding into the mixture of your juices and the fake cum soaking the both of your lower halves. It was messy and bordering on gross, but made your needy clit throb all the more. You were truly insatiable. Had it really been that long?
She sighed in pleasure at the feeling of you grinding against her, the position making her harness press deliciously into her own clit, pleasing you both. Perhaps she too could get off from this.
The sun had gone in, and the room had grown dark. But this time, you weren’t afraid — infact the growing inkiness of the sky was the last thing on your mind— safe, warm and dumb in Abby’s strong arms.
Maybe you’d let her stick around.
2K notes · View notes
sanakimohara · 3 months
Text
“SUREAL SATISFACTION” K. S. Pt. 2
Tumblr media
…part 2. I keep my promises. 🖤 I MIGHT write a pt 3..not to sure about that yet....
[ MDNI ]
++++++++
"…and then sign here for this one." The delivery man held out his iPad for you, resting the electronic pen in your hand with a smile, and despite your nerves running rampant, you flashed one back before scribbling letters that somewhat resembled Seungmin's name.
It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for you.
"Alright, thank you, miss. Have a wonderful evening." He took his belongings, rushing down the hall before you could utter a word back, and left you alone with your package in your arms while Seungmin's box lay at your feet.
You stared down at the flat, medium-sized box, curious about what was inside but uncomfortable asking or analyzing it for clues. 
It was his package, which meant it was his business and certainly not yours.
Open it. Seungmin won't notice. Just one peek won't hurt…
A tiny voice in your head begged you to open it, chanting question after question as you picked it up with your free hand, but you ignored the twinge of curiosity to focus on your purchase.
"Sign for it."
That's all he had asked you to do…
However, when you set Seungmin's box on the kitchen island, you noted how heavy it felt. Whatever was in there had some weight to it. 
The sound of metal jingling inside indicated multiple items were enclosed, too. These were small details….but they were enough to make you stare at it for a while longer, more curious than ever, but ultimately decided to stamp out your temptation to pry with the eagerness to glimpse your package instead.
You left the kitchen, heading straight for your room and shutting yourself inside before sitting in the middle of your bed with the large box. There wasn't a single label on it, the shipping stamp was strategically hidden at the bottom, and the clear tape holding it all together was layered at least twice.
You thanked whatever higher power there was that Seungmin was still out because if he'd been at home, you would've never gotten past the kitchen without hearing questions from the older. He'd pester you just for fun; gaining a personal moment of entertainment from you was his favorite pastime, and though you tried to ignore his callous comments, you'd always engage in his antics.
For now, he was gone, and you were slightly relieved. No chance of interruptions, guilt, or teasing from him.
Wasting no more time, you grabbed your pastel-colored pocket knife from your nightstand, flipping it open before slicing it through the tape. "Holy…sh- wow.." you whispered in disbelief as you opened the box, an intricate machine neatly folded inside with added accessories and rope set on top of it, taking your breath away. You had prepared yourself to feel shameful -at least a sense of remorse- about having to buy an automatic sex toy -complete with bindings and remote. But not a slither of those emotions were felt.
Elation. 
That's what coursed through you.
You were beyond happy, grateful even, and the grin on your face as you unpacked everything made it obvious.
With everything laid out on your bed, the box long discarded somewhere in your dimly lit room, and the instruction booklet in your hands, you started to put it together.
Every direction was followed to the letter, and thirty minutes later, you were done. "That was way easier than I thought…" you mumbled to yourself, slowly stripping your clothes off and getting comfortable on the bed. You sat up for a couple of seconds, rerunning the setup instructions in your head just in case you needed to free yourself suddenly. Then, when you were confident unbinding yourself wouldn't be a problem, you started tying the restraints.
You bound your wrists first, pulling the rope around them tight with your teeth before you tied your ankles to their respective cuffs. You relaxed then, lying back into your warm covers with a soft sight as you nibbled on your bottom lip. The remote was clasped tightly in your left hand, covered in the same silicone material that the dildo was -except it wasn't drenched in cold, clear lubricant.
Do I really want to do this? You asked yourself, eyes sliding closed as you tried to weigh your options, but then the memory of Seungmin scandalously moaning your name -knowing full well you could hear him….and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking his fist to the thought of you…
That was enough motivation for you.
It was all you needed.
"Fuck it…." You hiss, giving up on logic as the events of last night corrupt your brain, reminding you precisely who and what was making you do such vile things in the first place.
"Click"
The remote buzzed to life as you hit the large 'start' button in the middle, prompting the artificial cock to press straight past your folds, and the stretch it inflicted on your cunt had your mouth falling open to let out a lazy moan. Maybe it was the lack of sex for nearly a month or the fact that you could only imagine Seungmin sinking into you the same way, but the usual pain that came with forceful entry drifted to pleasure unnaturally fast for you.
You knew it was the latter reason, his name tumbling off your tongue like a soft song the longer you fucked yourself. Your body was trembling, collecting a cold sweat as the fleshy cock tapped against your cervix, slowing and quickening its pace based on how many times you tapped the arrows on the remote.
Moments. It took mere moments for your slippery walls to tighten around the dildo, covering it with a thick glaze of cum. You couldn't utter a word as the overpowering orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, causing your toes to curl and your hands to shake so bad that you dropped the remote. You should've panicked then but were perpetually stuck on the rise of another climax as the toy remained on.
Coming once should be enough….
One… I only need to come once.
That's what you tried to convince yourself as your hips rolled to fuck your cunt harder onto the contraption. It felt too gratifying to stop; the sound of your wet cunt being split open echoed around the room, mixing with your high-pitched moans, and the combination pulled you further from reality. Every time you came -which went uncounted after the third time- Seungmin was present in your fuzzy train of thought.
The heat of his hands when he grabbed your hips to move past you in a tight space. That infamous smirk he'd give you during tidbit arguments and how his voice lowered when he addressed you by those pet names you hated but counted the seconds between him repeating them.
All the minuscule praises he'd give you at the oddest moments, followed by his eyes rolling when you didn't accept his compliments….
---- ---- ---- ----
"I'm going out tonight. I'll be back late, so don't wait up for me."
He gave you a once-over stare, licking his lips as you sauntered around your apartment, "Have fun, pretty girl. I'll still be here when you get back."
You scoffed, resisting the urge to smile at his chaste flirting, "I know I'm pretty Min. You don't have to remind me…"
Seungmin chuckled, eyes fixated nowhere near your face as you slipped on your heeled boots. "I'll remind you as much as I want, sweetheart…" he retorts matter of factly.
You roll your eyes, fighting back a blush as you stand and head for the door. Seungmin's gaze burns into your backside right up until you slam the front door behind you.
"Bye, baby!" He yells loud enough for you to hear down the hall, and you groan before shouting back, "I am not your baby, Kim Seungmin!" And like clockwork, you can hear his laugh echoing in the apartment.
"You will be soon," he mumbled as the sounds of your heels clicking down the hall faded.
---- ---- ---- ----
His laugh is always condescending but oh so sweet. He gets away with so much, insults you when it suits his mood, and you get off to it like some twisted fiend.
Even now, with your nerves on fire and your core ramping up another coil of pleasure. You imagined the pure delight Seungmin would get from teasing you.
The thought brought a tired smile to your face as your head pressed back into the pillows, your back arching slightly while the knot in your stomach slipped loose, and the sound of his name vibrated the air around you as dribbles of cum leaked from your entrance.
"Seungmin…" you whined loudly, on the verge of cringing from overstimulation, and your body reflexively writhing away from the dildo. There was no escape from it, and you were too dazed to untie yourself to reach for the remote and hit 'pause.'
It's been so long. 
You couldn't bring yourself to end it so soon….
God, you should've thought because the sound of Seungmin's heavy footsteps as he shouted, "What do you need, sweetheart? I just got home…" in response to you calling his name had you panicking within seconds.
Was he back?!??? Since when?!? How did I not hear him?….fuck fuck fuck!….
You were torn between yelling at him to not come in and reaching for the tiny remote that had fallen to the floor. Either option would take a toll on your already fucked out state, but unfortunately for you, Seungmin had pushed your door open just as you made a decision.
You groaned in embarrassment as he stared down at you, emotionless and unmoving. You stared back at him through the fallen strands of your hair, swallowing a whimper as your gaze met his, and your pussy pulsing harder around the toy at the sight of him.
Seungmin didn’t utter a word for a solid minute, contemplating if what he was seeing was real and trying his best not to climb on top of you and replace the shitty excuse for a cock so he could fuck you right himself.
He only snapped out of his daze when he saw your soft and slightly swollen lips move to speak to him.
"Please…Min…could you…help me?" Your purring tone flipped a switch in Seungmin, dragging a heavy breath from the man as he slowly walked over to the edge of your bed. You gazed up at him with puppy dog eyes, hoping he'd take a little pity on you and end the tortuous embarrassment you felt without question.
"Min, please…just-just turn it off…nd' I'll explain-" He shook his head, chuckling in disbelief as you begged for his help, "Help you?" He repeats your question, eyes going dark as you nod in response, "Yes…" you mumble.
Seungmin turns his head, a smile plastered on his face as he watches the dildo plunge in and out of your dripping cunt, each thrust causing your thighs to tremble, and he feels a twinge of jealousy knowing he's not the cause of the reaction instead.
"No." He flat-out refuses your request, and your heart drops. "W-what why? Min, please-"You attempt to reason with him but choke on your words as he clasps a hand over your mouth and trails the other down the center of your body.
You wriggle under his touch, eyes flickering from his face to the hand inching towards your puffy clit. Seungmin places a knee on your bed, leaning closer to your spread form as he greedily studies its fluctuations. Your breasts draw his attention first, gently swaying as you squirm in his hold, but his focus quickly shifts to your cunt as he circles two fingers around your budding clit.
You jolt from the added friction, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he lightly slaps your bundle of nerves before returning to rubbing it slowly. His pants grow tighter as your muffled cries switch between excited moans and shaky screams.
A smile tugs at his lips, ears prickling with satisfaction, and his cock twitching the louder you get. "You sound so much prettier moaning like bitch in heat," Seungmin taunts. Pressing your head harder into the pillows when you try to shake his hand off.
The rough action makes you immobile, vulnerable to his touch and the endless fullness the dildo provides. You fidget with the restraint on your wrists, able to loosen the rope just enough to slip a hand out to grip the collar of his shirt. He grimaces as your manicured nails dig into his skin through the fabric, leaving one of many marks you'd inflict on him for the night, and Seungmin was prepared to endure every single one.
He'd waited for this long enough. 
You could fight him all you wanted, but his mind was set, and your body betrayed every protest you made. Seungmin shrugged your hand off his shoulder with ease, giving your cunt a light slap as you came undone for what felt like the hundredth time. Your chest tightened, fighting for oxygen and letting out a weary scream all at once.
"Breathe, kitten. Breathe for me…mhm," Seungmin's lowered voice was your lifeline, guiding you through the earth-shattering orgasm, and he adjusted his hold on your mouth just enough to let you pant for air.
The ceiling looked like a blur of color to you. His charming features remained crystal clear to you despite your lack of focus, and when the black dots stopped flashing in your vision, you lulled your head to the side to gaze at him properly.
He stared back at you, smiling smugly as you struggled to stay sane. "I should leave you here like this for the rest of the night." His soft laughter follows the semi-serious threat, and you whine in disagreement, grasping for mercy again as he stands up.
"Min, please…I can't feel my legs…I need a break…" you whimper as your thoughts twitch on Indian with your shaky breaths. Seungmin crosses his arms over his chest, strolling to the other side of your bed where the remote fell. He doesn't look away from you as he picks up the device. He holds it up, admiring it briefly before looking back down at you, "I'll help you out of this on three conditions."
You scoff, ready to burst into tears from frustration, but knowing Seungmin's bargain was your only way out.
"F-fine, what do you want?!.."
He hits an arrow on the remote, causing the dildo to pick up speed, and you jolt from sudden overstimulation. "I wouldn't be so mouthy right now, kitten… I'm only trying to help, remember?" He feigns sympathy, adorning a frown as you helplessly fall back into the bed. Your whole body feels numb, excluding your pulsing cunt that's practically being milked to death.
"N' sorry," you admit defeat, unable to speak above a whisper as your mind goes completely blank. Seungmin inhaled sharply, enjoying the sight of you crumbling to pieces as he listed his terms for the supposed 'deal.' 
"I'm going to fuck you." He wasn't asking, and you smiled wide upon hearing the demand.
"… Okay.." you mutter, eyes glossed over with lust as he returns to his previous position next to your bed -only this time, he moves to hover over you correctly. Your breath hitched as he wrapped your arms around his neck, indirectly lowering his face closer to yours.
"From here on out, you'll call me 'Sir' or 'Master.' Nothing else…Think you can do that, pup?"
You nod slowly, heart thundering in your chest as his eyes lower to your parted lips, "Let me hear you say it.." he mumbles, and you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks.
"Yes…sir."
Seungmin pecks your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth, and you moan into the quick kiss, glad to finally taste and longing for more as he pulls back to list his last condition.
"You'll give your all to me. Everything. I'm done running in circles with you…"
Your cunt spasms in delight as your mind registers his possessive statement.
You hadn't expected him to ask you to be his like this, but…
"Whatever you want…sir. N' yours.."
He smiled as you closed your eyes in pure bliss, gripping a fist full of his hair as you teetered on the edge of cumming, but as your peak began to reignite, he hit the 'stop' button.
You didn't know whether to glare at him or cry joyfully as he set the remote on your nightstand and sat up to free your lower half from the toy. Seungmin was careful not to put his entire weight on you as he untied your ankles, but you could feel his solid cock throbbing right over your pelvis.
Your eyes were steady on the rise in his pants, mouth watering in anticipation as you felt your legs drop free and Seungmin's hands kneading your inner thighs to help you gain feeling again.
"Thank you…" you whisper gratefully, content with laying under him, gradually resurfacing from the waves of pleasurable aftershock.
He glared at you, shifting on the bed so your legs were on either side of him, and you winced at the spasms of pain the movement caused in your lower half. "Thank you, what?" Seungmin gripped one of your ankles, pulling it so your dripping core was pressed to his clothed erection. "Thank you, sir!" You yelped as the contact overwhelmed you, the fabric of his pants, along with the imprint of his length, tickling your clit as your hips bucked involuntarily.
"Much better…" he cooed, lowering his head to capture your lips in a long, well-deserved kiss.
Finally, he could stop feigning for you and claim what should've been his a year ago.
You. And only you…
Mind, body, & soul. 
+++++++++
TAGS: @httpswilloww 🖤 + @sorasbl0g 🖤 + @miserya99 🖤+ @y-ur--i 🖤+ @ivyreadsstuff 🖤+ @nannetsz 🖤+ @hynmgj1nnn 🖤+ @blackhairandbangs 🖤+ @sharksandminhos 🖤+ @fawnpeaks 🖤+ @myseungsungheart 🖤
I have a feeling you guys are going to ask for a part 3 on this...Like, I can feel it in my bones, but we will see how the draft process goes.. [ BONUS CONTENT + ]
….oh he DEFINITELY has pretty moans- uhm I mean….wow isn’t he just so ANGELIC (Ii would do anything for this man) 🖤
471 notes · View notes
houseofanticipation · 7 months
Text
You're sitting with your friend Sam at a coffee shop, catching up. She's telling you about an instagram ad she keeps getting for some audiobook streaming service. "It's just crazy," she says, "because I was just telling Lucille I wanted to start reading more books but I never have the time, and then it's like instantly I'm getting these ads all the time."
"So what," you say over your steaming mug, "you think they're listening to you?"
Sam shakes her head. "Honestly I think it's almost scarier than that. They have so much information about us, they don't even need to listen to our conversations. They just know, based on everything they've gathered about me, that I'm probably someone who wants to listen to audiobooks."
"Well they can't be that smart," you say. "Because the only ads I've been getting lately are for something called Slut Cream."
Sam raises an eyebrow. "You must know I'm going to need more details."
You take out your phone and find an ad to show her. It's not difficult; literally all of the ads you see on instagram are like this. They're even showing up in other places now, on webpages you visit or apps you use. This one is one you've seen before: a beautiful woman in a crop top that just barely covers her nipples is proudly displaying a squeeze tube of the kind you'd buy sunscreen or toothpaste in. The caption says, "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle! Step up your slut game with Slut Cream! Shop Now"
"I don't even know what slut cream is," you say. "All you get when you look it up is a bunch of porn."
"Well, obviously it's a way to step up your slut game," says Sam sagely. "What does it say on the website?"
"Oh, I'm not clicking the link," you say. "I don't want to encourage them! What I want to know is why suddenly this ad is all I can seem to see!"
Sam shoots you a wink. "Maybe you're just a slut. These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."'
What neither of you know is that it's actually quite easy to buy online ad space, and they let you get pretty specific with your intended audience.
I live in the next apartment over from you. I've been watching you for a long time, studying you, listening to you through our shared wall. We've talked a few times, some terse conversation at the mailboxes or in the hall, which is how I knew enough about you to place those ads, with audience parameters so specific that probably only you and about five other people would see them. I had fun making them; hiring the model to do the photoshoot, dusting off the skills I picked up in that college graphic design course, creating a website for this fake business (though I'm disappointed you still haven't clicked through to see it). If you actually tried to buy slut cream, the website would tell you we're currently closed due to high traffic, and to check back later. Nowhere on the website does it explain what slut cream is.
A number of strange things happen to you over the course of the following day. On your lunch break you walk down the block to the deli by your office. You're in here every weekday, but today the energy here is different. People are staring you, side-eyeing you, having whispered conversations that stop abruptly when you get too close. As you're walking back to work, an old woman spits on the ground as you pass, you'd swear you heard the word "whore!" hissed under her breath. You wonder if you should say something, stand up for yourself, but she's elderly, probably confused, and you decide to be the bigger person.
In the hours after lunch, you're propositioned by no less than seven of your male coworkers. You've had to refuse a few invitations to dinner in your time, but seven in a day is completely out of the ordinary, and the things these men are offering to do to you go way outside the bounds of first date stuff. One guy tells you the conference room is empty, if you want to go for a quick fuck; another guy tells you he hasn't cum in a month, and if you sucked his cock he'd pump so much cum down your throat that you wouldn't need to eat dinner. Your boss even tells you he and his wife are looking for a third and he thought of you first, like he's offering you a big promotion. The strangest thing is that all of these men seem genuinely surprised when you turn them down. Like this sort of thing usually works with girls. One guy even says, "sorry, I was just trying to help."
It was pretty easy to hire actors for the deli and the street. You go to the same place every day, so I knew where they'd have to go and roughly when they'd need to be there. The harder part was getting your coworkers to play along, especially because I was picky about getting people who could sell the act. For a few of them all it took was money. A few of them I had to blackmail. For your boss I had to call in a favor, get his boss to threaten his job. He protested, but I think it made his cock hard, thinking about fucking you alongside his wife.
I keep this up for a few weeks. Anywhere you go I have people watching you, talking about you behind your back. I have people approaching you on the train, at the park, in restaurants, offering to fuck you like they're doing you a favor. You stay firm in your refusal—I wouldn't have expected any less from you—but I can tell it's beginning to eat at you. I watch you try to figure out what you're doing that seems to give all these people the wrong idea about you; you start to dress more modestly, talk less, even walk a little less confidently. But none of this will change anything. All it will do is make you feel more repressed.
After a month, I decide it's time to make my move. I could probably wait longer, but the anticipation is getting too much for me, and besides, you're beginning to get a little wild around the eyes. I'd hate to break you before I've had my fun. One evening, when I know you're home, I unlock your apartment with the duplicate key I had made two months ago. You're in the kitchen, washing dishes with headphones on; you didn't hear me come in. I leave the door open as I approach you, admiring the way you shake your ass to whatever it is you're listening to. I get right up behind you and stay there for a moment, lavishing in your innocence, feeling my cock strain at my belt as I imagine taking it away from you. Then I reach around front of you with both arms and plunge my hand into your panties
You shout in shock, fight back, try to push me off as the headphones fall off your head. But I've got you pinned against the counter, my full body weight against you, one hand down your pants, the other groping your breasts. Once you realize that fighting won't help, you stop struggling and ask me what I want. "Please," you say. Just hearing that quiver in your voice almost makes me delirious with lust. "Please, let me go. I don't want this, please."
I bury my face in your neck, kissing and breathing you in. You smell incredible, like fear and sweat and sex. I bring my lips up to your ear, let them brush against you as I speak. "Of course you want this, baby. You've been trying so hard to hide it, but you don't have to hide with me. Look, you left the door open for me." I let you turn your head enough to see the door hanging open just as my fingers find your clit. I'm rubbing you gently, tenderly, just the way I've watched you touch yourself through the webcam I have in your room. My other hand is under your shirt now and I'm squeezing your breast, rolling your nipple between my fingers, feeling it slowly grow full and erect. You try to stifle a soft moan and I kiss your neck again. "It's okay, baby. You don't have to be ashamed. It's okay to want to feel good. Let me make you feel good."
You clutch your face in your hands and let out a cry of frustration and humiliation and agony and pleasure. You barely know me; I'm the guy next door who sometimes looks at you a little too long. The guy you speed up to avoid in the hall. But that feeling radiating from you clit... You think how exhausting it's been, doing everything you could think of to change people's perception of you, get them to stop looking at you as a slut, how none of it has done you any good anyway. You wonder if you'd have had more fun fucking Jim in the conference room, or swallowing Dylan's cum, or having a threesome with your boss and his wife. And that throbbing in your clit, the agonizing pleasure...You remember that beautiful woman in the ad: "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle!" You think about how happy she looked, how fulfilled. You remember Sam's words: "These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."
It does feel good, doesn't it? To let me touch you, pleasure you, to let go of this act you've been holding on to. Isn't it okay to want to feel good? Why did you ever let anyone make you ashamed of that? You try out another moan, letting the pleasure well up through your chest and out your mouth. It feels good, so you try another, and another, and then you're leaning back into me, grinding up against me, delighting in the feeling of my hard cock against your ass.
"Good," I say. "You're letting go of those silly hang-ups. Now we can have our real fun." My hands still around you, controlling you, I half lead-half carry your trembling body to the bedroom. I throw you on the bed, face up so I can get a good look at your eyes, see what I've done to your mind. Those same eyes that have avoided me in the hall so many times now gaze hungrily up at me, wanting me, needing me.
Who am I do decline?
I pull off your pants and panties as a single unit, letting you take care of your shirt for yourself. I kick of my own bottoms, letting my throbbing cock slap against your leg as it springs from its confinement. Don't think I don't notice the way your whole body shivers when it touches you. I lift your legs and push your knees up towards your ears; you're remarkably flexible. It must be all that yoga I've watched you do at the place downtown. I've greatly enjoyed your visits to that place, so it's nice to see they weren't in vain.
You're afraid of me, all of a sudden. Maybe some part of you is seeing sense, realizing you'd have to be crazy to let a guy like me come into your home and fuck you like this. But what was the alternative? Have me rape you? Let me tell you, darling: I would have raped you. You feel the head of my cock gliding over your skin, exploring your inner thighs and pubic area, and tremble at my touch. I want this, you tell yourself. This is what a slut like me needs.
All the same, you cry a little bit when I penetrate you. It's not because it hurts—it does hurt a bit, but you're wet enough, and it's not entirely a bad pain. It's not because you're afraid—well, maybe in part, but that's not the core of it. You cry because you're finally letting go. Letting go of the person you used to be, or thought you were. It's the relief of knowing you don't have to pretend anymore, wrapped up with the mourning you feel when you lose a potential version of yourself. I lean across you as my cock fills you up, and tenderly, I kiss away your tears. "Hush, my darling. I'm here. I will always be here. I will love you despite what you are, when everyone else turns away in disgust."
My weight on you feels good, comforting. The way I press down on your legs, stretching you out, driving my cock so deep inside you that it brushes your cervix. It hurts a little, but is that any better than you deserve? Could a slut like you really expect to find better than this? Better than unconditional love and a desire to give you the pleasure you need?
I'm speeding up now, my face something like an animal, furious and insistent as I gaze down at you. There's darkness behind my eyes, you think, something cold and cruel. You thank God I'm on your side. My hips are like a hammer on your pelvis now, and with each thrust you feel my cock bulging inside you, throbbing and pulsating with anticipation. When I finally plant my seed in you, groaning and growling and pressing you further into the bed, you find there's something comforting about the warmth of my cum inside you. Maybe my seed will take root, make you swell up with me, make you mine. As I roll off you, huffing and panting, the tears begin to stream down your face again, this time from joy.
What did a slut like you ever do to deserve someone who loves you like I do?
714 notes · View notes
writerslittlelibrary · 4 months
Text
We can be your family, part 2
Tumblr media
masterlist part 1 part 2
summary: having been in the foster system all your life, you don't expect much when your case worker tells you you're being moved again. what happens when the car suddenly stops in the most expensive neighborhood in all of New York…
pairing: Natasha x teen reader, Maria x teen reader, Blackhill
warnings: mentions of abusive foster families, mention of sexual assault, a deadly amount of mama Natasha fluff
genre: fluff
words: 1257
a/n: part 2 is here! it's really short but I didn't really know what else to write. this is just mainly here to give closure to part one :) 
I'm not really planning on writing a third part, but if the demand is there and anyone has an idea, maybe I will🫶  
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work
 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|
Living with Natasha and Maria was the most fun you had in a while. They made you food three times a day, always asked for your opinion on things, and always made sure you were okay. it was a completely different experience than you were used to, and it couldn't have been better.
Tonight Maria and Natasha scheduled a movie night, and to say you were excited was an understatement. The day before, Natasha had taken you to the store to pick out all sorts of snacks. Maria had made your favorite dinner and you were happy and content as you three watched the movie.
That was, until Natasha got a sudden call.
You paused the movie while she left the room to pick up the phone. You anxiously looked at the closed, knowing no normal person called at this time of night, so it must be your social worker.
Marie noticed your concerned gaze, deciding to distract you with the mission to help her make you three hot chocolates. 
Soon enough, you were laughing in the kitchen, the amount of mini marshmallows in the hot beverage being absolutely unacceptable, all the while Maria just kept putting more in. 
You helped Maria take the hot chocolates to the couches, putting them down on the coffee table. Just then Natasha walked in, a distressed look on her face. You looked at her, but kept your mouth shut. You didn't want to know what was wrong, especially if it meant leaving.
Her and Maria shared a knowing look, before Natasha sat down next to you and laid her hand on your knee, smiling warmly at you.
"Before I say anything, I just need you to know that you're not going anywhere. You are staying right here, with us. I promise,” Natasha said as Maria took a seat next to you as well.
"What's wrong?" you asked Natasha, and she hesitated a moment before responding.
"Alice called, and apparently, a foster parent you stayed with before has been arrested, and they want you to testify against him…” Natasha explained carefully, and you just sat there, avoiding your gaze back to the coffee table.
"Why was he arrested?” you asked when Natasha moved her hand to your back, rubbing soothingly with her thumb. 
It was silent for a moment, before Natasha took a deep breath and spoke. “ He's been arrested for abuse and…” Natasha took another breath, finding herself incapable of just saying. “And sexual assault…” she said quietly, and you closed your eyes with a soft sigh.
You knew him, and of course you knew why he had been arrested. You just needed Natasha to say it. You needed to hear it.
"I'm done with movie night,” you said after a moment of silence, getting up and shrugging Natasha's hand off your back, making your way to your room without looking back. 
Neither Natasha nor Marie tried to stop you, letting you walk to your room, knowing you needed the space. 
You laid in your bed, your stuffed bunny clenched tightly to your chest as numb tears streamed down your face. You wanted to be alone, and yet, it was almost as if you wanted to be alone with Natasha and Maria. You'd never felt like this before. You've never craved the touch and attention of your foster parents before, so why was it suddenly so different this time?
It was like Natasha had heard your thoughts, because soon after, you heard a soft knock on the door. 
You didn't say anything, feeling too numb to even acknowledge the fact someone just knocked, but it hadn't mattered as Natasha came in anyway, a mug of hot chocolate in her hand.
She didn't say anything as she walked towards you, sitting on the bed next to you and setting the mug down on your nightstand. You sat there in silence for a while, until a muffled sob could be heard from your mouth, and Natasha didn't hesitate to crawl up the bed, sitting against the headboard as she coddled you closely to her chest. 
"It's okay. Everything is going to be okay,” she assured you as her hand gently stroked your back, her other hand on your head as she held you tightly.
You were so close to Natasha, you didn't think you had been so close to anyone else before. You didn't think anyone ever even gave you a hug like this. A hug with meaning. A hug filled with love and care. You cried for a while, and Natasha didn't say anything as she just held you. 
After a while, your sobs had turned to sniffles, and you gently raised your head from Natasha's chest. 
She wiped the strands of hair from your face, smiling gently as she cupped your cheeks.
"Everything is going to be okay,” she assured you again, and you could cry purely from the way that she said it. You didn't cry, instead just sitting up against the headboard next to her, you bunny still rightly in your embrace. Natasha had one arm over your shoulders, making you sit against her closely.
You didn't mind. You wanted to be as close to her as possible. 
"Can I have my hot chocolate now?” you asked quietly while your head leaned on Natasha's shoulder. Natasha smiled and reached for the mug, handing it to you, watching as you drank happily. 
"I don't want to testify,” you then said. Natasha hummed but didn't say anything, waiting for you to continue. “I don't wanna see him again…” you added softly, and Natasha grimaced slightly  at the idea of what he could have done to you. 
"We'll think of something. We'll be here for you, I promise,” Natasha said as she gave you a kiss on your head. 
You nodded as you finished your drink, handing Natasha the mug so she could put it back on your nightstand. After some more cuddles, you yawned slightly, and Natasha chuckled as she sat up straighter. 
"You should get some sleep, you're exhausted,” she told you, and you nodded. 
When Natasha went to get up, you hesitated for a moment, looking at your hands and picking at your skin. 
"Can I stay with you tonight?” you asked quietly, almost embarrassed of the question. 
Natasha smiled as she nodded, letting you stand up before she placed her hand on your back. "Of course you can.” 
You went into your bathroom and quickly brushed your teeth, changing into some pajamas before walking back into your room. You grabbed your bunny and went to Natasha, who was waiting in the doorframe. She smiled as she led you to her room, opening it to reveal Maria already in the bed, a book in her hand.
The moment she saw you, she put her book down, opening her arms and inviting you to get in the bed. 
"Come here sweet girl.” You quickly got in, crawling to Maria and letting yourself fall into her warm embrace. She smiled as she hugged you close, much like Natasha had done. 
"I'll be right there,” Natasha said as she went into the bathroom, but you paid her little mind as you enjoyed Maria's warm hug. 
Once Natasha was settled in the bed as well, you lay in between them, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Thank you,” you said quietly as you laid your head on Natasha's chest, falling asleep in no time. 
"We love you, Malysh…” Natasha said as she kissed your forehead, her and Maria falling asleep as well.
Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat
503 notes · View notes
querenciasturniolo · 9 months
Note
OKAY NO, “favorite” was insanely good. If you wouldn’t mind, could you please write a part 2 for this fic? Maybe their flirting before something finally happens or maybe another car video with them already dating but no fan knows?
oops ⮕ c.s.
Tumblr media
word count: 1.4k
warnings: swearing
summary: chris slips up, and the secret’s out
a/n: i’m so glad you liked favorite !! i changed the idea just a little bit 🤏🏻 but i hope you like it !!! 🤞🏻
{i’m not the biggest fan of this, but that’s okay. i might rewrite this at some point, but who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️}
everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.
part one || part two
Before you realized what was happening, Chris Sturniolo had made his way into your heart and stayed there.
The few months after the Q&A video was posted, the two of you continued keeping in touch. You talked to Nick and Matt of course, but Chris was incredibly persistent on answering quickly and asking you questions about yourself. It was only a matter of time before the two of you finally got together.
It had been almost a year since that video, and eight of those eleven months you’d been with Chris. The two of you decided early on to keep your relationship a secret from the fans, but with each video you did with them, more edits of Chris looking at you the way he did nearly blew the secret.
You thought it was funny, how he couldn’t control the way his eyes scanned over you like you were the only thing on his mind. It wasn’t just Chris, though. Nick keeping the bit of you and Chris admitting to be each other’s celebrity crush and favorite triplet in the video didn’t help things, either.
Your new single had only been out for a few weeks, and every single interview consisted of the same question.
“Fans have been speculating that your new single, Rare, is actually a love song about Youtube star, Chris Sturniolo. Is this true?”
You’d laugh and shake your head, your chest aching and your heart pounding as you said the same thing over and over again.
“I think the interpretation of music is up to the listener. If the listener wants to believe this song is about Chris, that’s okay. If they want to believe it’s just a love song I wrote for fun, that’s fine too. I personally was inspired to write about the feeling you get around someone who’s important to you.”
The interviewer would then fake laugh along with you, and thankfully change the subject. You hated lying to your fans, and just lying in general, but it was nice to have something private. You wouldn’t mind going public, persé, but you’d need to talk about it first to make sure he was on the same page.
Chris had spent the majority of his time at your apartment when you were in LA, and any time he wasn’t there, you were at their house. One of those times was right now, Nick and Matt sitting next to you on the couch and watching a show you had absolutely no interest in. Chris had his head in your lap with his eyes facing the screen, your fingers carding through his hair absentmindedly as you pretended to pay attention.
Suddenly, Chris sat up and turned to face you, his hair sticking up in different directions and his eyes wide.
“We should go live.” He suggested, Matt and Nick glancing over from where they were sitting with furrowed eyebrows.
“Why?” Matt asked, reaching for the remote and pausing the show.
Chris shrugged his shoulders and pulled his phone out, glancing at you unamused and running a hand through his hair to fix it. “Why not? We aren’t doing anything anyway.” He said, tapping the Instagram icon and sliding over to go live. He propped his phone up on the Pepsi can on the coffee table and rested his head on his hand. Comments started pouring in almost immediately, many of them about the fact that you were on the couch next to him.
After a few moments of silence, Chris glanced over at the three of you with his eyebrows raised. “Are you guys just going to sit there like bumps on a log, or are you going to join me?” He said, your eyes rolling as you scooted more into frame, Nick and Matt grumbling as they stood up and followed suit. Nick sat on your other side while Matt sat on the other side of Chris, all four of you now looking at the comments flooding in.
Y/N WHO IS RARE ABOUT?????
You chuckled and shook your head. “Rare is a song I wrote about how it feels to be around someone who makes you love yourself.” You said, your answer vague as you noticed the way Chris’ fond eyes flickered to you on the screen for a split second before going back to scanning the comments.
well that’s one way to answer a question i guess
it’s about chris confirmed
idk, the verse about someone with bright eyes like stars seems to scream chris
Nick scoffed and looked at you. “How many times have you been asked that?” He asked. You shrugged your shoulders.
“About ten thousand, but I don’t mind. It’s sweet that people want to know. It’s a happy song, they just want to know why.” You said, Nick pursing his lips and humming noncommittally before looking back to the phone.
The live went on for what seemed like ages, the four of you replying to as many comments as possible, the rapid rate of which they were coming in made it near impossible to read. After a while, Matt pulled out his phone and started scrolling through Tiktok, his volume low and his eyes flickering between his phone and the live.
“We filmed our Wednesday vlog today, it’s one of my favorites so far.” Chris said. “No hints as to what it is, but I hope you guys like it.”
Matt snorted at whatever was playing on his phone, nudging Chris’ shoulder for him to look. He did, his eyebrows furrowed and his tongue between his teeth as he watched. You and Nick continued reading the comments, laughing and responding to a few before Chris guffawed and covered his mouth with his hand at whatever Matt was showing him.
He grabbed Matt’s phone out of his hand and held it in front of your face. “Babe, look at this!” He said, all four of you freezing in place as you registered Chris’ words. Before any of you could react, comments started flying in immediately, whether they were keyboard smashes or just consistently repeated ‘I KNEW IT’s.
“End the live.” Nick mumbled, all four of you reaching for the phone at the same time and knocking it off of the table.
“Shit!” Chris shouted, scrambling for his phone and desperately jamming his thumb onto the screen to end it. It was no use—his live had crashed, and his screen was frozen on the image of all four of you staring wide-eyed at the camera seconds after Chris’ slip up, comments still pouring in at an impressive rate, each comment blurred. In a last ditch effort to fix it, he turned off his phone and dropped it into his lap.
The four of you sat there in silence, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. You finally turned your head and met Chris’ eyes, his face frozen in a wince.
“Oops?”
The silence only lasted a few more seconds before you completely lost it, hysterical, raucous laughter bubbling out of you as you clutched your stomach. The three of them joined in soon after, the four of you near tears as the reality of what just happened set in.
“How did that even happen?! We were doing so well!” You said through your laugh, Chris shaking his head and wiping at his eyes.
“I don’t even know, it just came out.” He said, the four of you finally calming down enough to catch your breath. “I mean, at least we don’t have to hide it anymore.”
You pulled out your phone and opened Instagram.
“Well, there’s only one thing left to do.” You said, Chris leaning into your shoulder as he watched you create a post. “Help me pick one.” You said, scrolling through your photos before he tapped one. You had taken it ages ago, but it was still your favorite picture the two of you had taken together.
“What should the caption be?” You asked, Chris raising his eyebrows at you and scoffing.
“What do you think?”
You rolled your eyes and typed the lyrics out, making sure to tag Chris before posting the photo and locking your phone.
“And now we wait for the uproar.” You said, Chris chuckling and pressing a kiss to your temple. Nick groaned dramatically, catching both of your attention as he pushed himself off of the couch and headed towards the kitchen.
“Oh God, if you guys are going to be all mushy now, could you at least give a warning?” He said, though you could tell he was only teasing. Your phone screen kept lighting up, notifications pouring in from Instagram.
“Well, it’s out there now, I guess. You’re stuck with me.” You said, Chris rolling his eyes as he wrapped an arm around your waist and lightly leaned his weight onto you.
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
don’t keep your distance, i’m not scared
i’m not gonna fight this, baby you’re rare
877 notes · View notes
middlepartmatt · 6 days
Text
Hotshot
“you're buried in the pillow, yeah you're so loud... but i'm about to show you, baby, slow down” — SLOW DOWN, chase atlantic
SUMMARY: you and matt have been enemies since you were kids, but one night when you're forced to share a bed with him, everything changes.
WARNINGS: smut, mainly dom!matt, mainly sub!reader, oral (fem receiving), doggy lol
AUTHOR’S NOTE: first smut on here i am NERVOUSSSSSSSSSSS but anyway this is an outtake from my matt fic on wattpad causeeeeee i can't be getting cancelled on that silly little app... i hope u enjoy lol. ALSO if you don't like smut that's not really my issue so just don't read it!
Tumblr media
────
"I'm not sleeping in here."
Matt rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he looks from you to the bed, then back again. 
"Nick and Chris are already asleep," he says. "So unless you wanna go and wake them up, you're stuck with me."
You sigh, looking around the room.
"I'll just sleep on the couch," you decide.
"It's not like we haven't slept together in the same bed before," he reminds you, referring to when you would have sleepovers with the triplets back when you were kids. He pulls off his black tee and climbs into the bed. "So just get in."
Your eyes widen, but you obey, climbing in on the other side. You immediately rolls over, turning away from Matt since you knows he's facing the middle. Why does he always have to face the middle? It infuriates you.
To your surprise, Matt doesn't say anything else. Considering you'd just been having an argument for five minutes about the sleeping situation, you'd expected him to try and get in one last dig at you before you both go to sleep. He's not done that though, instead he's fallen completely silent.
You know he isn't asleep. When Matt's asleep, his breathing becomes heavier, a little ragged, but right now he's silent as ever. You shift uncomfortably under the blanket, not sure what to make of the situation. Matt's right; you've slept in a bed together before, yet it feels weird now, with his brothers in the room just next door.
But it's not just that.
It also feels weird because of the fact that you feels the need to cross your legs, and that your heart is beating faster than usual. Matt's room, which is usually freezing, seems boiling hot right now. You're thinking that it just might have to do with the fact that Matt's currently shirtless.
Matt moves, causing you to be snapped out of your thoughts and jolt at the movement. You inhale sharply, feeling your eyes on her back.
"'s something the matter?" he questions.
"Nope," you reply quickly, but your voice betrays you. 
"You sure?" Matt hums. "You seem uncomfortable."
"Just shut up and go to sleep," you snap. Matt just chuckles.
"Night, angel," he says, using that infuriating nickname he'd given you back in elementary school. Angel. It's not supposed to be a compliment, but rather make fun of you for supposedly being a goody-two shoes, which you personally don't think you are.
"Night, hotshot," you answer. You started calling him this a few years ago, when he was promoted to main goalie of the lacrosse, and also when he and his brothers started getting popular on YouTube. Annoyingly, he doesn't seem to hate the nickname as much as you hate yours.
You closes your eyes but still, your senses pick up on his every breath, every shift of his body in the pitch black darkness. Yeah, you're definitely not getting any sleep tonight.
You hear Matt moving around, then suddenly feel something cold on your waist. It takes you a moment to realize it's Matt's hand, now resting lightly on your hip.
You stare straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the touch. Maybe it's an accident? you think, but there's no way Matt would accidentally put his hand on you.
Okay, now you are most definitely not getting any sleep tonight. Not that you really mind though, to be honest. 
You feels his fingers slide up your stomach, tracing the curve of your hip. You shiver involuntarily, and his hand slides back down, grazing the hem of your tank top.
"Is this okay?" he whispers, and you just nod. You're not even sure you'd be able to speak, anyway.
You then feels his hand move upwards again, slowly, deliberately, until it reaches the bottom of your breast. You gasp softly, arching your back slightly, offering him better access. His hand cups your tit, squeezing gently, making you moan softly. His thumb brushes against your nipple, sending a jolt through your body.
You can't help but let out a small whimper. His fingers are still pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and you can feel you core starting to throb.
You close your eyes, biting your bottom lip. You can feel his breath on your neck, and you slowly pulls his hand off of you so that you can turn around to face him. You tilt your head up to meet his lips. His tongue slips into your mouth as he kisses you deeply.
After a second you break the kiss, panting. "Matt," you say, barely above a whisper. 
"Yes, angel?" he replies.
"You shaved," you point out. Last you'd noticed, he had a little bit of stubble where he hadn't bothered shaving the last couple of days. 
"Thought it would make for a smoother ride," he murmurs in response, and he kisses her again. You feels yourself getting wetter at his words as you kiss him back, your hands roaming over his chest. Matt kisses your neck, trailing his tongue along your skin, and you arch your back once again, pressing yourself against him. You can feel him against your front, and just the touch of his dick against you only makes you needier for him.
Matt moves his hands down your body, pulling your tank top up over her head. You lift your arms, allowing him to remove it completely. He trails kissed on your collarbone, before moving down your stomach. You lie back, letting him take control. 
You lets out a soft whimper as he reaches your pyjama shorts, toying with the edge of the waistband.
"Matt," you whimper. He doesn't reply, pulls them down along with your underwear, exposing you.
"You're so wet," he muses, a grin present on his lips. "Is this all for me, angel?"
"Obviously," you answer, rolling your eyes. Becoming impatient, you grab a fistful of his hair and pull him towards you.
He licks your slit, tasting you. You moan, arching your hips towards him. His tongue flicks over your clit, making you shudder, before he begins sucking on it gently. You moan louder now, grinding your hips against his face. He licks your clit again, and you cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from crying out.
Matt pushes two fingers inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. You grab onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin. He slides his fingers in and out of you, making you writhe beneath him. You bite your lip, trying not to make too much noise.
He puts his thumb on your clit, rubbing it slowly. You're slowly coming undone, moaning loudly, but he doesn't stop as he continues to rub your clit while he fingers you. 
"I want your tongue again, hotshot," you say breathlessly, and Matt simply grins before obeying, moving forward and licking up your slit once again. You yelp, her whole body responding to his action. "Keep going," you order, and he does, tipping you over the edge.
"Fuck, Matt, fuck," you whimper as you cum, legs shaking under Matt's touch. 
You collapse onto the mattress, breathing heavily. Matt kisses your stomach, moving up to kiss your lips again. You taste yourself on his lips and you moan, reaching out to stroke his cock through his pyjama pants. Matt exhales sharply, bucking his hips into you.
You smirk, pulling down both his pyjama pants and boxers, before taking hold of his cock and stroking it gently. He groans as you run your finger over his slit, stroking him faster until you can feel him about to cum. Already. 
You stop, and he glares at you. His eyes are dark in this dim lighting, fueled with desire just for you.
"Don't tease me, angel," he says quietly.
"What?" you ask sweetly. "I want to taste you."
It looks like it takes all of Matt's strength not to cum at your words. Instead he just nods, and so you climb on top of him, straddling him. You crane your body downwards, and he watches as you take his cock into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the tip, making him groan.
You take more of him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. He holds your head, thrusting his cock deeper into your mouth. You gag, but refuse to pull away.
"Just like that, baby," he tells you, his hand still gripping your hair tightly. "Fuck," he whimpers, and you almost come undone at the sound alone. "Jesus, angel... yeah... just like that," he mumbles to himself, eyes closed as he throws his head back while you continue to suck him.
You feels him finish, shooting his hot cum into your mouth. You swallow it all, moaning, and he finally pulls you off of him. You sit up, wiping the cum from your mouth. Once you've regained focus, you see that he's already half-hard again.
"Want me to fuck you?" he asks nonchalantly like he wasn't just whimpering for you moments before. You just nod, moving up and kneeling on the mattress. Matt gets behind you, rubbing his cock against your opening. Without warning, he slides it inside of you, making you gasp.
He begins fucking you, pushing his cock deep inside of you. You moan, pressing your ass further up against him.
"Matt," you groan, causing Matt to thrust faster and harder. "Matt," you repeat, and he moans.
"Keep doing that, baby," he tells you.
"Matt," you breathe. It's all you can say as he continues fucking you, his cock going deeper inside of you with every thrust.
"Fuck, angel," he mutters. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."
He continues to fuck you, making you scream out in pleasure. He pulls your hair, and you groan at the harshness of his touch. You arch further into him, noticing how it makes his hips buck harder into you.
"Matt," you whisper, hearing the way he moans loudly as his name leaves your lips.
"Angel, oh my God..."
"You there yet, hotshot?"
Matt shakes his head, refusing to fall for your teasing. He pulls out, causing your mouth to fall open in shock, before he rubs his tip against your clit. You moan loudly, wanting nothing more than for him to continue fucking you as he was before.
He slides his cock back inside of you, and you whimper in pleasure. He thrusts harder into you, making you cry out. He starts fucking you faster, making you moan even louder. On a high, you reach between her legs, playing with your clit.
"Am I not good enough for you, baby?" he questions, laughing dryly.
"Help me out here," you answer. "I'm almost there, fuck!"
He reaches down, grabbing your hand. He makes you keep playing with yourself, all while he fucks you harder, making you moan louder. He pulls your hand away, and you cry out.
"I'm cumming, Matt," you whimper, and he unravels at the sound of his name leaving your lips, thrusting harder as his orgasm bursts through him. You finish too, letting out a loud moan as you shudder, the feeling coursing through your body.
Matt pulls out, and both of you immediately roll over and lie back down on the bed. You lay in silence, apart from their ragged breathing. A moment later, he turns to face you.
"Still not wanna sleep in here?" he asks smugly. You roll your eyes.
"I said sleep, not fuck," you scoff. "Now shut up or I'm gonna be showering alone."
Matt does in fact shut up.
────
AUTHOR'S NOTE PT.2: hi LOL ??? i never know what to say in author's notes it's always so awkward but anyway... feel free to request anything you wanna see: matt, chris, or both!
345 notes · View notes
chvoswxtch · 3 days
Text
personal
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: lately frank has been acting suspicious, and you've decided to finally confront him about it.
warnings: swearing, lots of angst
word count: 3.4k
a/n: i hope y'all have been enjoying things being nice & light & sexy & fun bc these last few chapters aren't holding back any punches. shit is about to get real. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
[previous chapter] | [series masterlist]
Tumblr media
Not even five minutes after Frank walked through the threshold of his apartment, the rumble of an incessant banging sounded on his front door. His dark brows instantly furrowed with irritation at the sound. Slipping his right hand behind his back to grab the handle of the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, he turned the knob and swung the door open with just as much ferocity as the person knocking on the other side. 
The creases of annoyance on his sharp features suddenly smoothed into recognition at the sight of you standing in front of him, but not long after, his warm brown eyes widened in complete bewilderment seeing the raw fury that was burning in your eyes. 
“Hey-”
Before he could utter another word, you forced your way inside his apartment, causing him to quickly retreat backwards, wincing when you swiftly slammed the front door shut behind yourself.
“You need to tell me what the fuck is going on with you, right now.”
Frank was utterly caught off guard by your aggressive behavior. The last time he had seen you this angry with him was when he showed up at your place after Cavella and Walker had attacked you. He was so distracted by your incensed entrance, he almost missed what you said. But when his brain finally caught up with his ears, your words only fueled his convoluted confusion.
“There nothin’ goin’ on-”
“Bullshit! Don’t you dare fucking lie to me, Frank.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not lyin’-”
“You’ve lied to me three times in the past month.”
Creases of puzzlement settled between Frank’s thick brows hearing that. Had he really lied to you three times? He couldn’t even remember what he’d lied about, or how you caught onto the fact that he was. Frank admittedly had been a bit out of it when it came to you lately, but he wasn’t doing it on purpose to hurt you. He just happened to be caught in the middle of something he was trying to keep you as far away from as possible.
Taking his silence as evidence of guilt, you stared up into his eyes, wanting him to see the proof of grief in your reflection that his actions had caused. You wanted him to hear the severity in the words that lacerated your tongue as they slipped past your lips that had been bitten raw from your tortured anxiety.
“You never once lied to me before Frank, ever. I don’t know why you’re choosing to start now, but if I hear one more lie come out of your mouth, I am done. I will walk out that door and I will have nothing to do with you ever again, that's it. Do you hear me?”
That caught Frank’s attention. There was no waver in your voice, no threat in your tone, just raw emotion and sincerity. 
For the past month, Frank had been acting strange. You’d caught him in three white lies, and while they may have seemed small and trivial to someone else, they were anything but that to you. Because you’d been stuck with a pathological liar before, and there was no such thing as harmless lies. A lie was a lie, and it was a crack in the foundation of trust and integrity that you’d built with Frank, and a crack could turn into a rift, and a rift could divide you and make it all come crumbling down.
Since yours and Frank’s schedules didn’t always line up, you’d both done everything you could to make every moment count since your first date. But lately, it felt like you were the only one putting in the effort. Frank was chronically distracted these last few weeks. He was late to meet you for dates, he didn’t call when he said he was going to, and sometimes you didn’t hear from him at all until the day was practically over. And when he was with you, Frank was physically present, but mentally he seemed to be somewhere you couldn’t follow. Even sitting right beside one another, it felt like there were oceans of distance separating you subconsciously. 
At first, you’d tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was one little white lie. One missed call after a long day. Just fifteen minutes of waiting at the restaurant. This was Frank, the man who had saved your life more times than you could count. He was different. This was real. You had nothing to be concerned about.
But then one white lie turned to three, and one missed call turned into not hearing from him until an excuse appeared across your screen at half past midnight, and fifteen minutes late turned into not showing up at all. His behavior planted a seed of suspicion in your mind that grew like wild ivy, coveting the sense of security you had in him with leaves of doubt, sprouting spirals of diabolical hypotheticals that canvassed your brain with catastrophe. 
Every knot of faith Frank had woven into your heart with his actions over the last nine months were steadily being unraveled by his own hand in a matter of weeks. The confidence you had in him was now frayed in shreds and left you in a fit of mania, scrutinizing his every intent under a microscope. 
You had been here before. You’d been lied to, manipulated, cheated on, pushed to the brink of insanity, and eventually left behind. You recognized all the signs of duplicity and betrayal, but you’d covered your own eyes so you wouldn’t have to acknowledge them, because it was Frank. 
Blunt-and-brutally-honest, jump-in-front-of-a-bullet, remembers-every-little-detail, got-his-knuckles-bloody-for-you, killed-for-you, Frank.
And that’s why this hurt so much. That’s why this dagger of deceit tore clean right through your chest, leaving you standing in the middle of Frank’s living room, hysterical and furious for an elixir of truth that could make this pain go away and heal your belief in him once again. He’d been so MIA lately that you had spent hours camped out in front of his apartment building tonight, waiting to see his truck pull up just so you could follow him inside and finally have this conversation face to face.
Frank could hear in your voice that he’d hurt you, and even worse, he could see the evidence of it shining in your eyes. The pieces of yourself you’d lent him to patch up his own heart were suddenly bleeding at the seams seeing how his unintentionally selfish preoccupation had left you marooned. Shame didn’t begin to cover the way he felt. He knew he needed to be honest, but he couldn’t tell you everything.
Not yet.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. But it ain’t what you think, sweetheart.”
“Then what is it? Explain it to me.”
Frank took a seat on the couch and gently patted the space next to him, looking up at you with diligent patience while you internally debated between standing stubbornly or giving into his request to sit with him. After a moment you finally sat down, but you intentionally put space between the two of you and folded your arms across your chest in a silent gesture of defensiveness. Resting his forearms on the tops of his thighs, Frank clasped his right hand over his left wrist, staring down at his worn boots while deciding his next words carefully.
“I got a new assignment.”
The quiet tone of Frank’s voice and the lack of eye contact while he spoke immediately caused a spark in your nervous system. 
“Where?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Frank let a moment of silence pass before turning his head to look at you with an apologetic gleam in his warm brown eyes.
“I’ve been helpin’ Madani with somethin’.”
Pinching at the bridge of your nose, you let out a slow exhale of irritation. Frank had already strained your patience with his behavior this past month, and his obscure responses were only making it worse.
“Why are you being so secretive about this?”
“It’s complicated-”
“Complicated how? You didn’t have to hide the last job from me-”
“This one is different-”
“Different how? That doesn’t make any sense-”
“You gonna let me talk? Or you gonna keep yellin’ at me?”
The way you clenched your jaw and narrowed your gaze at his quip made Frank regret letting his own frustration get the best of him. You were already pissed off, now was not the time for him to snap back at you like he normally did when the two of you argued about something. A wave of annoyance quickly crested within you. The second you stood up from the couch, Frank’s large hand reached out to grab your wrist.
“Hey, c’mon. Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Walk away from this conversation-”
“What conversation, Frank? You’re not doing anything but giving me vague excuses. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
Frank gave your wrist a gentle tug to get you to sit back down next to him on the couch. He once again waited calmly as you stood defiantly for a moment before reluctantly sitting back down. He let his large hand glide across your wrist to take your hand into his own, holding it firmly in his lap while cocking his head to the side to try and catch your gaze.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
When he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, the prolonged pause of silence caused you to eventually shift your attention back to Frank, and you could see that his brown eyes were a deep shade of contrition.
“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been distracted lately, and I haven’t been ‘round like I shoulda been. And you’re right, I did lie to ya, and I’m sorry ‘bout that. I’m not tryin’ to keep things from ya, sweetheart. It’s just…this one is…it’s different.” 
“Why? What makes this one so different that you have to lie to me about it?”
“It’s personal.”
Now it was your turn to be perplexed. You thought Frank was long past holding you at arms length and keeping up a fortified impenetrable steel wall around his heart and mind. He’d opened up to you before, talked about his life in the Marines, told you about the family he’d loved and lost, even spoke about them more comfortably and freely now without the shadow of grief looming over his words. Why was he back to shielding his vulnerability?
“Personal?”
Frank knew you wanted more of an explanation. You needed more. And he hated that he couldn’t give it to you right now. He hated that there was still so much that he was holding back from you, and that it was his own fault you were even doubting him in the first place.
“Listen, I can’t explain it right now, alright? But I will. When it’s all said and done, I’m…I’m gonna…I’ll have to tell ya some things first, some things you may not wanna hear and probably won’t like hearin’. But I promise, I’m gonna tell you everythin’, alright? I just need you to trust me right now.”
Every word Frank spoke hid another piece of the puzzle he was crafting, and you were left with misshapen gaps of confusion. You didn’t know what he meant by saying there were things he had to explain that you might not want to hear, or how that factored into the job he was currently working. Nothing he was saying made any sense to you, and it only left you with more crucial questions than justifiable answers. Pulling your hand away from his, you got up from the couch and started to stressfully pace back and forth.
“So the reason you’ve been a shitty boyfriend lately is because of this new assignment, that you can’t tell me anything about, other than it’s personal, but you can’t explain why that is. And it’s going to take you somewhere eventually, but you can’t tell me where, because you don’t even know yet, and even if you did, you still wouldn’t tell me. And I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that you have no idea how long this is going to last, but you expect me to sit here and act like everything is fine between us and trust you even though I have no fucking idea where you’re going or what you’re doing. Did I miss anything?”
Frank could hear the barely concealed hostility in your tone. He couldn’t combat a single thing you said. When you finally stopped pacing and turned to face him, staring at him expectantly, a ring of treachery was blazing around your irises. He could see it right then in your eyes. If he didn’t fix this, he would lose you.
Slowly rising from the couch, Frank stood there with a dispirited weight resting on his shoulders, a look of pleading softening his warm brown eyes. 
“I’m gonna handle this as soon as I can, I promise.”
“I can’t do another month of this, Frank.”
“Then it won’t be another month. I’ll figure it out before then.”
“How?”
The resentment you felt towards Frank was rapidly fading into pure desperation. All you wanted was an answer, a real answer. Something of substance that you could understand, something tangible to hold onto during this period of uncertainty. Frank could feel the despair radiating off of you in thick sorrowful waves, and the fact that you were close to forfeiting this argument had him instantly tensing as the chill of dread straightened his spine. He had to give you something.
“Listen, Madani gave me some intel, alright? I’ve been followin’ it, tryin’ to find proof she’s right, or if she’s just seein’ what she wants to see.”
“But why did she give it to you? What can you do that Homeland Security can’t?”
Frank stared at you silently for a moment, and you could see a look of hesitation flash in his eyes. There was something there, something you couldn’t figure out. But you could tell by the expression on his face that there was a lot more to this than it being a top secret assignment from Homeland. Whatever it was, it had everything to do with Frank. You just couldn’t figure out why. After a terse minute of silence, Frank stood up a little straighter while subtly clenching his jaw, and there was a hardened look in his eyes.
“Cause it’s connected to someone I know.”
The way he spoke that sentence with an ominous undertone sent an icy torrent down your spine. Sensing your trepidation, Frank let out a deep sigh and glanced around his apartment for a moment while lost in thought before eventually looking at you again, this time with a softer gaze.
“Look, I can’t explain it all right now, sweetheart. All I can tell ya is that Madani needed someone she could trust on this, and I owe her a debt.”
Letting those words sink in, you tried to put your biased emotions aside for a moment and think logically about what Frank was saying. Dinah had asked him for a favor. Part of you found it  surprising that she came to Frank and Billy, considering the way she acted towards Billy the day Steven was arrested. But maybe that look of distrust and disdain had everything to do with the complicated relationship they’d had that Billy mentioned. 
If Frank was working for Dinah, then he was working for Homeland, which meant he probably didn’t have a choice but to keep everything from you. And yet, here he was still trying to give you crumbs of explanations, and promising to tell you everything once this new assignment was over. At least you could lay the fear to rest that he was seeing someone else. Standing here now, you felt ridiculous that you’d restlessly jumped to the conclusion of an illicit affair. But in your own defense, it had been difficult to think clearly when Frank’s covert behavior mirrored that of past boyfriends' unfaithful performances.
As your shoulders physically deflated from your own conspiracies unraveling just to get tangled in a new set of ambiguities, you let out a deep exhale and rubbed both of your palms tiredly down your face, grasping onto the back of your neck for a moment. When you first showed up at Frank’s apartment, you had felt completely warranted in your anger. Now, you weren’t sure if you had overreacted in your manic state, or if you still had a right to be upset with Frank. At this point, you just felt drained from trying to balance on that tightrope of your own conflicting emotions.
Frank had saved your life several times over, and Dinah personally made sure that Steven would spend the rest of his life in prison. You owed them both everything. The least you could do was show them a little patience. 
“Alright. Fine.”
In the nine months that Frank had known you, never once had you conceded in an argument. Even when you were in the wrong, you struggled with admitting that you had been erroneous. Frank’s blood ran cold with the thought that he might have pushed you too far healing the casual defeat in your voice. He didn’t want you to give up on him like this. Frank quickly took a step towards you the second you took a step towards the door, reaching out to gently grab your arm.
“Hey, hey c’mon. Don’t go.”
“Frank, I’m tired-”
“Then stay. Just stay here, c’mon. It’s late, yeah? Stay.”
Frank wasn’t giving you any room to decline the offer disguised as a command. One of his strong arms slipped around your waist, pulling you firmly into his chest while his large hand gently cradled the back of your head. He pressed his lips in a soft, lingering kiss to the crown of your head, hugging onto you tightly while resting his cheek against the side of your head. The rigid tension in your body lethargically began to melt, and Frank’s deep gravelly voice whispering into your ear dismantled the last of your defensiveness.
“Just stay with me, baby. Please stay.”
Frank knew that he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t feel that he’d earned this second chance at life he was getting. But he would be damned if he’d let anything ruin this now that he had you. He would’ve told Madani to go to hell if he’d known the favor was going to cause such a big disruption to the peace he’d found within you.
But not only did he owe his second shot to her, he desperately needed to know the truth himself.
“When will you leave?”
Frank hugged onto you even tighter, rubbing his hand along your lower back in soothing slow circles.
“M’not sure yet. But I’ll tell ya as soon as I know, I promise. And I’ll make sure you’re taken care of while I’m gone, yeah? I’ll be back before ya know it, baby.”
Hearing the soft sigh that sounded from you, Frank nuzzled his nose into your hair and whispered gently to you.
“Listen, I won’t take no more jobs like this, alright? I’m gonna handle this for Madani, and that’s it. I won’t do anythin’ else that’ll take me too far from you, yeah? I’m not gonna leave ya, sweetheart. I told ya I’m always gonna be here. I meant that then, and I mean it now. You ain’t ever gotta worry ‘bout that.”
You tried to find comfort in those words, but you weren’t in the mental state to accept any vows. You couldn’t get past the glaring truth that Frank was hiding something from you, and until you knew what it was, that crack of dishonesty would continue to slowly spread. You had a sneaking suspicion in the pit of your stomach that whatever verity Frank was concealing had the potential to shatter everything; unveiling the illusion that your relationship hadn’t been formed out of the impervious stone that you’d believed in, but rather of futile glass.
tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress
224 notes · View notes
mysillyside · 6 months
Text
Analysis of Ice King's Mental Health and consistent Self-Sabotage
(a needlessly long analysis of an episode I really didn't like as a kid but grew to respect a lot upon rewatch as an adult)
I wanted to rewatch some Ice King episodes I haven't seen in awhile, and the season 6 episode "Friends Forever" really reminded me how Ice King is such a good portrayal of a mentally ill person who unconsciously self-sabotages himself and his relationships.
Tumblr media
Summary: The premise of the episode is Ice King inviting Life Giving Magus over for a hangout, when in actuality he is planning to trick him into bringing his furniture to life so they can be his friends.
The setup is obviously comedic: "Haha silly Ice King, you don't need to bring furniture to life so they'd be your friends, when Life Giving Magus is right there offering you friendship!"
Coincidentally, that's the tragedy of the episode and Ice King's character in general.
He already painted a convoluted picture in his head of what he thinks he needs in order to be happy, so when other possible (even easier) routes of achieving said happiness present themselves to him, he shuts them down completely. It has to be his way or no way!
Content warning: While I don't go into anything too intense, this is an analysis of self-sabotaging behavior and how it pertains to people struggling with mental health issues, and I even briefly go into my own experiences surrounding this topic. Keep that in mind if you decide to read!
I'll leave the rest of the analysis below, because it's a bit wordy. But I hope you enjoy!
Throughout the episode, we are continuously shown the same scenario. Ice King is presented with an alternate (usually more achievable) solution to a problem he's dealing with and proceeding to ignore it, as he already decided how he wants to solve it as other avenues appear too challenging. He wants simple, fast solutions, despite the fact mental health improvement is a slow journey.
Abracadaniel
Early in the episode, we find out that Ice King ended his friendship with Abracadaniel, because "he kept trying to analyze him" From previous episodes we know that this friendship made Ice King really happy, so it might be suprising of first glance to see it break off so suddenly.
But of course, it makes sense. The reason Ice King liked the friendship in the first place is because it was fun. It's nice to have friends who are able to distract you from your own saddness.
In the episode where he first befriends Abracadaniel in the season 5 episode "Play Date", Ice King explicitly states he likes spending time with Finn and Jake because it distracts him from his thoughts, hence why the duo introduces him to Abracadaniel.
And that's what the friendship probably was for awhile, the two of them having fun! But considering the fact Abracadaniel seems like a relatively normal guy (at least for a wizard), it makes sense that eventually he would pick up on the fact that something is very wrong with Ice King, and that he's dealing with some pretty intense mental health issues.
This leads him to start analyzing his behavir, which leads to Ice King getting irritatated and upset.
He wants to have fun when he's with Abracadaniel, not think about things that upset him. (Knowing Ice King, he probably thought Abracadaniel was criticizing or even attacking him.)
Life Giving Magus
This is a shorter section but still important to mention. The main irony of this episode is the fact that Life Giving Magus clearly wants befriend Ice King, but because that's not how Ice King invisioned his "get friends" plan, he ignores this way more practical/achievable solution in favor of a fantasy where everything works out just how he imagined it. Things will work out surely. The stars just gotta align. Fast and easy solutions only. What do you mean these things take time and effort?
The Furniture
So the furniture comes to life and Ice King is ecstatic. That is, until he realizes that the furniture doesn't act like how he imagined it. The once inanimate objects appear to be intellectuals that like discussing complicated smart people things and using big words Ice King doesn't understand.
After Ice King continually tries and fails to fit in, leading to him becoming frustrated and sad, the Lamp suggests an alternative solution.
Maybe Ice King can be the cool quiet guy who listens to the other people in the room and occassionally adds his input, instead of forcing himself to talk about things that are clearly beyond his scope and knowledge
Ice King of course, completely ignores this and gets upset.
He doesn't want to adapt to this situation or even compromise, this isn't what he wanted, this isn't how things were supposed to go!
So he'd rather end the whole thing.
And so the episode ends with him turning all the furniture inanimate again. Maybe its better things just stay the way they were.
Ignore the fact Life Giving Magus is once again offering him his friendship, despite everything Ice King put him through in that episode. But Ice King declines it, as he would still rather stick to what he's used to if he can't achieve his convoluted solutions to obtain happiness, than try new things. Who cares if it's practical, it's way too uncertain and challenging!
Conclusion
I think Ice King characterization is very reminiscent of a mentally ill person who clearly wants to be happy, but only in this very specific "let's not uncover the root of the issue" way.
He likes chasing manic highs of in-the-moment happiness, which leads to selfish, destructive behavior which eventually starts crashing down, culminating into long depressive episodes.
Ice King doesn't like being sad don't get me wrong, but he'd rather wallow in his own misery for weeks if it meant not having to utilize those brief occassional moments of stablity and happiness, to adress his issues and figure out how to get better in the longrun. He doesn't want to sacrifice them!
(If you want a clear real life parallel to this, have you ever had those moments where you're like: "Wow I've been feeling so much better lately, maybe I don't need to go to therapy this week!" and then you end up spiralling right back to square one when you inevitably get sad and depressed again, because you ignored your mental health in favour of not utilizing those happy stable moments to get better overall. I've been there. So yeah, Ice King is suprisingly relatable.)
---
And not only that, but even when he is trying to make an effort and find ways to become happier, he's doing it in such a surface level way.
This whole episode is a great example of that, but this goes even further back. Just think about his princess kidnapping tendencies. Kidnapping a princess is a quick and easy solution to stop his saddness and loneliness. He wants to be loved, so surely has can force it. We never really see Ice King actually achieve his goal of marrying a princess, but let's say hypothetically he did. Than what?
He wanted friends for a long while too, so when he got them he was happy... until even the slightest cracks started showing.
If he managed to marry a princess, sooner or later he'd realize it doesn't make him truly happy. In the episode where he comes closest to achieving his goal (Princess Monster Wife), it still ends with him alone and sad at the end, because you can't cheat your way to happiness.
---
For him to truly be happy, he'd need to start addressing the core of where his issues come from. But he doesn't want that! So when other people start digging deeper, wanting him to self-reflect, he gets angry.
"How dare you make me think about why I'm sad!" "I'm gonna achieve happiness in this specific impractical way or no way at all!"
As someone who deals with this type of mentality, yeah. It hits! The last time I watched this episode was actually when it first aired, and since I was still a preteen back then, so a lot of this stuff flew over my head!
But now I get it now and am able to appreciate this episode a lot more. To be honest, I used to hate it! I find later seasons of AT a bit humorless and awkward to watch, especially season 6 . While these opinions haven't really changed., I think I can finally appriciate the thematic and emotional meaning of this episode now. Preteen Kat might have been a bit of a hater.
Final conclusion: I don't know how an episode about Ice King's furniture coming to life ended up being such a good exploration of mental illness, but that's Adventure Time I guess!
316 notes · View notes
weebsinstash · 2 months
Text
so the screenshots are kinda janky but I was rewatching the whole scene with Ozzie and Fizz's morning routine and I remembered there were those shots of like, the imp staff who work for Asmodeus and
Tumblr media Tumblr media
is she helping do the laundry in platform thigh high boots, an apron, and a thong 😅 is that her UNIF0RM? Does she pick that out herself??? Is Lust just SO HORNY that it's totally normal that Ozzie's housekeeper is half-naked? Is he banging the housekeeper? Are Fizz and Ozzie exclusive or is it an open relationship? their other imp staff member was literally fully dressed so is this an optionally slutty, pro slut dress code idk
Like I'm sorry I'm just sitting here thinking of Reader who, Sinner or otherwise, is down in the Greed Ring as another performer for Mammon and Fizz is eventually like, "look, working this job is my dream, but it isn't yours. you shouldn't be attaching yourself to Mammon if all you need is a paycheck. I've got a... close friend who always needs extra hands; let me introduce you!!" and you have no idea that he's literally organizing a meeting with The Actually Fucking Cardinal Sin Of Lust until you're standing right in front of Asmodeus himself and he's just so goddamn CHARMING like he'd have me SWEATING AND GIGGLING I'd be straight up embarrassing myself like "o-oh that's not what I expected your voice to sound like hahaha 🥴"
Ozzie assures you the ultra sexy type uniforms are totally optional, and you could be bringing him papers in an oversized t-shirt and crocs and he'd still think you're as cute as can be. But. LORD if you ever decide, "I wanna feel sexy and confident and everyone else is having fun" and wear something sexy. It has him WEAK. Him? Them? Prolly both of them tbh. Like. Ugh I KNOW these two can go from having the freakiest loudest horniest sex imaginable to like giggling and tickling each other in bed and I can just SEE them being SO SOFT for a Reader darling. All your jokes make them laugh or affectionately roll their eyes. They DEVOUR your cooking (I think personal chef/PA Reader would be cute, the boys wake up and you have breakfast ready for them and everything), they're always sending you memes and things that made them think of you, they have a special group chat (of just them) SPECIFICALLY for sharing photos of you or things about you or just, talking about you period. Gosh. Would there be cameras suddenly installed where there wasn't previously just so they can see all the cute things you get up to when they're not around. All the little improv dances and songs... all the times you bend over...
Like the hilarity of Valentino getting absolutely fucking CUCKED when "his" Reader suddenly disappears, and it's because you can travel through the Rings and you work for Ozzie now and Valentino had no idea until he saw a trending photo of you and Ozzie where you guys did a HOT HOT photo shoot together to advertise something, where you're either almost completely naked OR actually ARE completely naked, and it's because Ozzie made you feel safe and protected and unlike Valentino, Asmodeus knows what an intimacy coordinator is-
You can actually go to clubs in those booty shorts with your ass hanging out and wearing whatever else makes you feel sexy and confident now because the second some creep is coming up to you and not taking 'no' for an answer, the creep suddenly has a massive looming shadow over them as an ancient demon turns to you and respectfully asks. "Is this guy bothering you queen?" and then steps on him. In a BAD way :)
Tumblr media
GOD ALSO I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT THIA INTERACTION UNTIL I SAW THIS GIF AND. Asmodeus' VA previously described his type as "everyone" and he has a BBW on that fountain like 😩❤️ now I'm thinking of chubby reader who's gotten bullied and bodyshamed by Valentino (who is negging you and is actually down SO BAD) and then you run off to Ozzie who's like. "Baby you are GORGEOUS and if anyone ever says or does anything like that to you again, just let me know and I'll break their legs ok ^w^"
((Also. Non yandere related thing im seeing. He's one of the Cardinal Sins and imps are considered the lowest Hellborns and Ozzie not only has an imp lover but TONS of imp staff, like he is a pro body positivity anti racism fucking 👏 K I N G 👏 BANISHED FROM HEAVEN'S DISCORD SERVER FOR BEING TOO HORNY ON MAIN. i bet he would DESPISE that Heaven is discriminating and choosing who's hot, just, ugh i want him carnally (edit: i noticed they're actually all succubi/incubi and not imps but the point still stands lol))
206 notes · View notes
margotwhites · 2 months
Text
Jason Todd x Singer reader (fem) Part 2
Author's note: First of all, thanks everyone for the amazing feedback of the first part! It made me a happier person.
summary: After the first repercussions of what you said in Kurt's interview, your agent decided it was time to do a show in Gotham. Nothing could go wrong... Right?
Here's part one: https://www.tumblr.com/margotwhites/742612810749591552/jason-todd-x-singer-reader-fem
__________________________________________________
Jason doesn't know how he ended up in the line for your show. He was at Wayne's Manor, chilling, and Steph, Babs and Dick suddenly grabbed him, made him take a shower and put a nice outfit (that they choose), a perfume and get his hair done.
And now he is on the line for the VIP entrance of your show in Gotham. The interview you did happened just two weeks ago, and suddenly there was an announcement in your social media about a show in one of the Gotham's city biggest stadium.
He didn't like the idea. Everybody knows what happens in shows at Gotham City. There's always some lunatic ready to fuck up the whole thing, always people getting hurt. That's exactly why he didn't refuse going to the show: if any shit happens, he prefers to be there to be able to kick the ass of whatever idiot that causes the commotion.
He just didn't expected to end up in the VIP.
"How much did you pay for this?" Jason asks Dick, staring at the small concert VIP bracelet that was placed around his wrist.
"It doesn't matter." Dick says, dismissively. Babs and Steph share a look and both start to giggle. Jason arches an eyebrow, but doesn't insist on the matter. He sighs, putting his hands on the pockets of his dark jeans.
If he was being honest, he wasn't a huge fan. Yeah, some musics were good, and overall you had talent, but it was simply not his style of music.
The line finished and they entered the VIP room; where after to show they would have access to the backstage. And actually meet you. Jason is not dumb, he knows what his siblings are in for. They weren't exactly discreet. They want to set up Jason with you.
"You guys are aware she said she likes Red Hood, right? Not Jason Todd. She probably doesn't even know me."
"Of course she knows you. You're a Wayne. She certainly have seen your face in one of the Galas footage that are around the web." Babs said, tilting her head.
"This is stupid. I don't know what you people expect to happen." Jason sighs, rubbing his temple. He wasn't exactly going to complain though.
"Look! There's food!" Steph says, walking towards the huge table with a diversity of sweets and savory. Jason follows her, but instead he walks towards the bar. He orders an Old Fashioned. He needs a drink to get his head in the mindspace.
At least he's not in the middle of the crowd. The VIP is crowded, but it's a private space with couches and other fancy stuff. Dick must've paid a hell amount of money for them to be here. Or he had some contacts. He always does.
Jason sips his drink and sighs, observing the surroundings. Well dressed people. It looks almost like a Wayne Gala. Which pisses him off a little. He sits on one of the couches, besides Barbara, who is drinking a Cosmopolitan. Steph is still attacking the food table and Dick is talking with some guys. Probably the ones who gave him the tickets.
"Take that expression out of your face, Jason."
Babs said, a smirk on her face. Jason scoffs.
"I just don't understand what the heck we're doing here." Jason replies, sipping his drink again.
"To listen to music. To have fun. To go to the backstage later."
"I don't want to meet her, anyway. The hell are we going to talk about?" Jason says, untrusting his friends plans.
"Come on! It's gonna be fun. And it's not because she said she liked Red Hood or whatever. It's because I want to meet her. Not everything revolves around you, jaylad."
Steph says, a plate full of sweets on her hands. She sits on the other side of Barbara.
"Then there was no reason for you to drag me along." Jason says, a bit irritated.
"Yes there was. Shows in Gotham always end up bad. We should be here in case we're needed."
She says, whispering. But nobody was really paying attention to them, so she relaxes.
"So why ain't Tim here too? Or hell, even Bruce?" Jason asks, rolling his eyes.
"Tim is with Bernard and Bruce is taking care of a case he's not talking about it. You know how he is."
Yeah, he knows. Batman sometimes doesn't share the cases. Especially the ones he should share. The ones he needs help with. But Jason shoves that to the back of his mind, sipping the Old Fashioned again.
A song starts to play and everyone goes towards the balcony of the VIP area. Babs and Steph grab Jason's hands and drag him towards the parapet, so they can take a better view of you, appearing on the stage. Dick joins them two seconds later.
"Good night, Gotham!" You say in the microphone, your voice echoing. With a huge smile on your face, the wind blowing your hair. He had to admit, you were more than good looking. You were gorgeous.
People are dancing and singing along, the whole stadium thrilling in your energy. You sing and move around, touching people's hands and even letting some fans get the mic for some seconds to show their own talent.
Jason can feel the energy and the music, and hell, he can't deny it. You are good. He even finds himself beating his feet in the rhythm of the songs he knows, and murmuring the lyrics along while you sing.
And then, because this is Gotham, and because Gotham can't have a single moment of peace, some shit starts to happen in the stadium floor. He can't understand what's going on - it's far away from the VIP area, but there is a strange moviment of people in the middle of the lower crowd.
"Hey- something is happening." He says, grabbing Dick's arm and pointing at a group of guys that is... fuck. Holding guns? He can't see it properly, it's too far away.
Dick observes what Jason is pointing.
"Our costumes are in the car." He says, and soon they are all moving. Jason places his drink on the parapet while Dick tells Babs and Steph what is going on. People start to scream in the lower crowd, opening space for the armed man. There are five in total. No- five in one side of the stage, other five close to the exit.
They run towards the exit of the VIP area, rushing down the stairs. A hell of an ordeal of everyone changing into their costumes inside the fucking car, losing time when someone could be getting hurt goes on, and five minutes later they are invading the entrance of the stadium dance floor.
----------------------------------------------------------------
You stopped singing as soon as you hear the screams. Something is not wrong and you should've known this would happen, because this is fucking Gotham.
Your security guards invaded the stage, escorting you out of there against your will. You don't understand what's going on, you just heard a gun noise and someone screaming, and then more loud noises and your ears start to do a high pitched sound, the world becoming a blurr in that moment. You go to the backstage, but then there are people armed there too.
A guy from the lighting team is on the floor, blood sprawling under him. Your security team raised their guns at the goons - or whatever the hell those people are - while the goons raise their guns and points each single one of them at you.
You try to stay calm. In fact, you are feeling strangely calm. There are five man pointing guns at your face, and the only strange, unsettling thought that crosses your mind is that you forgot your car keys on the bathroom counter this morning.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Dick punches one of the goons on the nose while Jason shoot's at another's leg. People start to scream even more now, Babs trying to control the crowd so nobody falls and gets trampled while everyone rushes towards the exit. Steph is already close to the stage, taking care of the five other goons.
Jason knows she can handle five idiots on her own, but even so, he runs forward, people opening space for him, and he's almost there when he sees a woman falling on the ground and almost getting crushed by other people's feet.
He helps her stand up and hears a small 'thank you' before she starts to run again. He has no time to lose. Not that armed men is a big of a challange for him and the rest of them, but people were shot. And everything that happens in a crowded space causes more casualties.
He reaches Steph and soon enough all the goons are down, people still rushing towards the exit, where now Dick and Babs take care of those who are wounded.
"I think we took them all down." Steph says, stepping closer to Jason.
But then Jason looks at the empty stage in front of him.
"Let's check the backstage." He says. Steph nods.
----------------------------------------------------------------
They started shooting at some point. You threw yourself at the ground, because you didn't know what else to do, and you felt a hand around your wrist, pulling up. You feel something cold in your back, and five masked man staring at you.
Your bodyguards are wounded or dead, and you're alone.
"Walk." The man behind you say, the gun pressed on your lower back. You take a deep breath and starts to walk, following them. You get out of the backstage through the back door, walking on the empty parking lot at the other side of the stadium, a simple white van waiting for you.
It was one of those kidnapping movies white van. That's what went through your head. You almost laughed at the thought. You would have if it wasn't so damn terrifying.
You started to think about all the possibilities of what could happen to you once you enter that van. What happens to the people in the movies? Torture? Rape? Death? Canibalism? Yeah, you saw something like that in the TV when you were younger.
Or maybe they just want your money. That, at this moment, is the best option. They'll ask for money and once they receive they're going to let you go. That's probably what's going on.
You try to calm down. The van seems so far away from you, the time is going so slowly, and so fast, because now you are being tied and blindfolded, thrown behind the van, and they are driving you somewhere.
You try to create the map of Gotham in your head: trying to perceive by the movements of the van where they could be leading you. That would be the smart thing to do, right? Maybe. But the truth is that you can't figure it out. You don't know Gotham. You have no idea where you are being taken.
You have no idea how many of your fans, the people who paid to see you, the people who adore you and who you adore back, were shot. If any of them died in your show.
It makes you try to stand up behind the van, desperate. That odd calmness you were feeling till now suddenly disappeared, and you started to do muffled sounds, trying to throw yourself against the van's back doors so maybe they would burst open and you'd be able to get out of here.
The van is at high velocity and maybe you'd break some bones, but that didn't matter. You just needed to get out of there.
Someone grabs you by the hair.
"Be quiet, slut!" A sharp slap on the left side of your face. It makes you flinch.
You were absolutely fucked.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Jason recognizes the man on the floor as your security team right away.
And you're nowhere.
"They took her." Stephanie says, through the comms for Dick and Babs. Jason observes the scene, remembering everything Bruce ever thought him.
"They're not hiding. They took her somewhere." He says, walking towards the backstage exit, towards the completely empty parking lot.
"At this point, they can't be more far than 50 kilometers." Babs say through the comms.
Jason curses under his breath at the reality that his motorcycle wasn't here. He looks at Steph, who also seems quite lost in what to do.
"There are any security cameras on the stadium or the parking lot?" She asks.
"Probably. If I was at home, I could figure it out." Babs answer. She's the Oracle, of course she could figure it out. She always does.
"Go home, then." Jason says, clenching his fists. They were losing time, damn it.
Jason just wants to get you back. He doesn't even know you, you don't even know him. But he knows you support him as Red Hood, and that's not something a lot of people do. He can't help but care for you.
He'll get you back. As Red Hood, as Jason Todd, it doesn't matter. This man is getting you back.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Author's note part 2: Oof! I was expecting this fic to be more light than this, but my mind took a different turn. I hope you guys enjoyed!
Tags: @duduvea @cynical-ghost
153 notes · View notes
miloonepiece · 1 month
Note
I saw you were asking for inspiration and requests: I would love to see a fic where Reader finally gets to be the dom and Buggy the sub and Buggy gets edged over and over within an inch of his sanity and he’s just so whiny and desperate and needy to the point that Reader has to tie his hands cuz he can’t keep them to himself. And when reader finally does let him cum, she sits on his cock and he cream pies her
|| I had so much fun writing this, I did forget about the tying his hands up part but I am willing to write something else with that idea!
WARNING: NSFW COTENT! (18+), AFAB!Reader, Doll pet name use, not completely proof read so it might not make sense. 2,280 Words.
Tumblr media
Buggy was a complainer, that wasn’t new. Anytime something wouldn’t go his way he’d complain, you got to hear every single bit of his complaints on any topic even if you had no clue what it was about. Finally being fed up with his complaining, you looked at him while the two of you lay in your shared bed. He was going on about something about the straw hats and occasionally dropping Shanks's name, you weren’t exactly paying attention as you were all hot and bothered. Buggy hadn’t noticed, to caught up in his issues to notice how your thighs squeezed together and your leg gently brushed against his thigh. Buggy does notice how your eyes seemed to be looking all over, your expression giving away the fact you weren’t paying attention. “Doll?” He asked, the pet name caused you to blink back to the reality of your dirty thoughts to look at him.
“Buggy, I understand you’ve had a hard day.” You say, slowly moving yourself to sit up and move closer. “But I need some attention.” You tell him, moving your legs to straddle his hips and sitting down against his member feeling it already hard. Buggy looked at you with wide eyes, any previous thought he had was suddenly gone within a second and his hands were gripping your hips tightly. You looked at him and he groaned at the way your pupils had blown out, your cheeks blushing and your jaw hung down. “Doll… please…” He whispers and something in you snapped, you had been so used to Buggy being on top of you. He was a feral beast and would have his way with you anyway, anywhere. So seeing him submit to you like this? God it only made you wetter, soaking your underwear which only urged you to begin to roll your hips against his hard-on.
You felt his hands tighten against your hips and you watched his face contort with pleasure, if you knew it would’ve been this easy to get Buggy off you would’ve been doing this a lot sooner. Which brought another thought to your head, you can remember all the nights Buggy has passed out in the bed while you laid beside him desperate to get any release. So, while you had Buggy under you - literally - you decided to take advantage of it. You memorized how Buggy worked, how he looked and acted when he was close so as you continued to grind against him you watched intently to make sure you caught him before he could release. You must’ve been the luckiest person in the world because Buggy’s face and body began to tremble, you knew he was close so you stopped and lifted yourself off of him. This caused him to tighten his hands and attempt to pull you back down, “doll… ‘s close.” He complains and you only hush him.
You move towards him, your hands gently caressing his face as he looks at you like you are torturing him. You were and it was rewarding. You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips, Buggy kissed you back but more desperately as his tongue licked your plush lips fighting to slip inside. You didn’t let him, hearing him whine then bring his hands up to grab your neck and hold you closer. You couldn’t help the moan that slipped from your lips at his possessive antics but you fought for a little bit longer before allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth, the way his tongue fought against yours was almost animalistic the way you both fought for dominance before Buggy finally gave up. You swirled your tongue around his and he would respond the same before you pulled away with a string of saliva connecting between your tongues.
You were panting trying to catch your breath as Buggy attempted to move and get over you, you were quick to put your hands on his shoulders and push him back against the bed. “Let me take care of you.” You whisper, leaning down to his ear and nipping gently. Buggy whined but shut up as you slowly moved the kisses further down to his neck, you would bite then lick the mark then add a few open-mouthed kisses here and there. Buggy’s hands moved to your ass, gripping them tightly causing you to gasp in shock before slapping his shoulder. “But Doll! Is just so nice~” He purrs out, massaging your ass. You decide to ignore him and work your way down to his collarbone, where you decorate it with more kisses. Your hands moved to the bottom of his shirt and you dragged your hands up towards his pecs, grabbing each nipple in between two fingers then pinching and twisting.
The sound Buggy made was sinful and you felt his hands move to tighten against your hips, you smirked before letting go and going to lift his shirt off of him. “Be good and take your shirt off.” At the words Buggy reacted quick, he grabbed his shirt and threw it off to the side; you hummed in response leaning back down to kiss against his stomach. You saw bumps rise on his skin and you felt him shiver, taking this moment you lowered your hips back against his and began to grind again. Buggy let out a moan his hands still tight on your hips, slightly guiding you to make sure you would please both of you. But you stopped and Buggy whined again, “Doll, quit teasin’” He complains, as always. You giggle and shimmy down his legs, following down his stomach with kisses to the hair that ran down into his pants.
You took your time, to Buggy’s dismay as you carefully took his pants down. You slowly slide them down his legs, following with your own to stand at the edge of the bed. Before tossing them to the side, your eyes dragged up his legs before seeing his member pressed hard against his tight underwear and a small dark patch soaking through. You smile proudly at yourself for being the cause of that before you move to kneel, kissing along his thighs and getting closer to his clothed member. Finally, you look at him again and he’s propped himself up on his elbows. He was bright pink and panting, looking at you with blown-out pupils that screamed lust and desire. You stared at him before opening your mouth and dragging your tongue against his clothed member, this caused him to shiver and cry out; his knuckles whitening as he gripped harshly against the bedding.
You then grab the elastic of his underwear, and gently pull it down watching his member spring out all pink and glistening for you. You felt your underwear soak a bit more so you pressed your legs together just to give yourself something. You pull his underwear off and move closer to his member, blowing a bit of cold air onto his tip which caused him to whine in response. “Doll, please..” He begs you and looks at you with puppy-like eyes, how could you say no to a face like that? So listening to his beg, you dragged your tongue from the base to the tip listening as he whined before you took him in your mouth. Buggy gasped at the feeling of your lips wrapped around his member and he only grew more desperate as you moved further down, he whined and his hand moved to grab a chunk of your hair. You hummed out and his head fell back at the vibration against his member, he was struggling to not shove you down and back into your mouth.
You noticed this but you took your time, lowering yourself down until you felt the blue hair that decorated the base of his member tickle your nose. You gave yourself time to adjust and get used to the feeling of him in your mouth, poking against the back of your throat. “Doll… pleas’ move…” He whimpers from above you and you look up, making eye contact with him which causes his member to twitch inside of your mouth. You responded immediately, your head bobbing up and down along his member your tongue swirling with skill; Buggy’s back arches and he tightens his grip on your hair. You continue moaning at the feeling of his member twitching within your mouth, drool slightly spilling from the corners of your lips and down onto his thighs soaking the sheet beneath him.
Buggy began to writhe beneath you and you knew he was close again, so you pulled away from his member your lips releasing a sinful ‘pop’ as you did. Buggy began to whine, attempting to pull your head back down to his member. “I was’ so close!” He whines, looking down at you as you wipe the corners of your mouth. You found it cute, the way he looked at you with these big puppy eyes and desperately tried to get you back. “Not without me.” You respond, moving to stand up your knees a faint color of red from kneeling on them for so long. You reach down and grab the bottom of your shirt, putting on a little show as you wiggle your shirt over your shoulders then throwing it into the pile with the rest of his clothes.
Taking your time you also remove your bra, the clasp holding it together making a small snap noise before it slides off of your shoulders and onto the ground. You smile and reach down to the elastic of your own underwear, grabbing it and pulling it down. Buggy watching the way it stuck to your folds for a moment before pulling off, he licked his lips instinctively practically devouring you with his eyes. He watches as your underwear fall past the bed and you kick them off to the side, he also noticed the way bumps appeared on your skin and how your legs ever so slightly squeezed together. He could tell the way that your nipples hardened that you were cold standing there like that. Buggy watched you in awe as if he hadn’t seen you bare in front of him several times, you carefully moved to straddle either side of his thighs looking down and carefully grabbing his member aligning it with your entrance.
You look at Buggy, as he watches his member twitch within the hold of your hand. “Doll, please.” He begs, tugging ever so slightly down against your hips. You fight against him for a moment, teasing his tip against your wet folds and listening to the small noises he made; as well as how his head falls back against the pillow. You smirked noticing this moment of vulnerability and sat yourself down, his member splitting you open so deliciously until he bottoms out and you are sat pretty in his lap. The sounds he makes are rough and almost as if he was gasping for air while drowning under water, that water being how wonderful you feel around him. You brought your hand up to rest it on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pound aggressively against his chest and into your palm. You smiled leaning your head back and closing your eyes, enjoying the feeling of being stuffed full. “Doll.. please move.” His voice was a whisper and he sounded desperate, you looked down to see him looking away from you and bright pink. It was a rare sight to see Buggy so, embarrassed.
You looked at him and felt as if you had one, so doing as he asked you began to bounce. The both of you groaned in unison at the feeling, your face contorting and Buggys hands grabbing your hips harshly lightly to leave them bruised. You kept up a good speed, one that was causing Buggy to practically writhe under you and unable to even speak correctly babbling absolute nonsense out. You knew he was close, since he had been denied release twice already he was most likely extremely sensitive. “Go ahead Bugs… come for me.” You give him the green light and feel his hands push you down flush against him, feeling his member twitch inside of you and release into you. You moaned at the feeling as your walls were painted white, suddenly the feeling of needing your own release was something you needed. So you continued to bounce, Buggy whined out from the overstimulation but you felt him thrust into you as well. He was making sure you finished and that every bit of his release was still stuffed into you, the thought making you snap and release all over him.
You curl over to rest on top of him, his member still buried deep inside of you and the both of you panting. “Who knew you were so good at putting on a show like that~” Buggy says, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your forehead gently. You chuckled and looked at him, “I learned from the best.” You responded kissing the bottom of his chin gently, before lifting yourself off of his member and moving to lay beside him. Buggy detached one of his hands to grab some tissues to clean up the mess in between your legs and his own before throwing it away, then he cuddled back up to you. “You should do that more often.” He whispered to you, you barely heard it as you had already begun to fall asleep.
122 notes · View notes