#you: *stares out the window and sighs wistfully* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elsweetheart · 11 months

Text

cats cradle

synopsis: ellie and her failed lab experiment bestie navigate her first ever heat.

♪ lana del rey, the weeknd — stargirl interlude ♪

cw: whew, this is gonna be a lot. fem reader, reader is a failed lab experiment which gives her cat like appearance in a few ways (ears, tail, claws etc) not furry porn, reader is mentioned to be 20 purely just for detail purposes but you can just change to whatever in your head idk, readers tail touches ellie in the night without knowing really lol, smut / strap on sex / foreplay / dry humping, overstimulation, small blood kink feature but nothing crazy at all, reader is just crazy and horny and primal, cockwarming. lmk if i missed any !

an: alrighty, here it is. i cannot stress this enough — if this isn’t your kind of thing, please just don’t read it. i won’t be offended if you don’t, i just don’t wanna hear any bs in my inbox please! this was experimental and i don’t even know if i like this fic or not so please be gentle. to the people who have been so sweet and encouraging throughout my up and downs of writing this, thank you and i love you! as usual, minors and ageless blogs do not interact you aren’t welcome here. enjoy! 🐈‍⬛ 🤍

WINTER

Spring would be here soon. That was all you could think of, a dull anxiety thrumming in the pit of your stomach at the thought. You stared at the solitary bright yellow flower peeking through its blanket of snow, the downfall of ice from the blizzard outside the window beating it mercilessly against the wind— and yet it stood, continuing to pop back up, almost like it was taunting you. You wished you could love spring. The thing about seasons changing was that they happened without permission and whether you liked it or not. Truthfully, you loved the idea of flowers and dresses and warmth on your skin, but it made it all the more difficult to hide the…elements of you that people wouldn’t understand. You weren’t talking about scars, or hair or bumps, no. You were talking about —

“What’cha lookin’ at.” The mellow voice of your best friend Ellie Williams broke you out of your thoughts, traipsing up behind you to sit with you on the window seat, tucked into an alcove below rotting bay windows in the abandoned house the two of you were holed up in on patrol, whilst the blizzard outside came down hard. She gets comfortable, drawing her knees up as she leant against the chipped paint, accommodating to make more room for you. Your head snapped towards her, towards her grey hoodie that — wasn’t you wearing that last night? shutup, and her khaki green jacket zipped up over it, jeans and Converse and messy bun tucked into the nape of her neck. Pretty. Always pretty. Always just a friend you couldn’t touch. Not how you wanted to, anyway.

“Nothing? Just watching the snow fall.” You sigh out wistfully, knowing you’d both rather be in bed on this early, freezing cold morning.

“Yeah? Y’looked worried about something.” She rasps, toeing you with the dirtied white tip of her maroon chucks and tilting her head. You dart your eyes back to the yellow flower springing up to see it finally get pummelled down by a huge globe of powdery snow. Hah.

“Just scared the snow will cover up the door and lock us in here.” You nibble your lip, tugging your pink wooly hat tighter over your head, ensuring it was still in place. She shook her head, casually, and her blasé attitude to most things often eased any anxieties that dwelled within you.

“There’s a smashed window in one of the rooms I checked, can climb out if we need to. S’why it’s so fuckin’ freezing in here.” She rubbed her arms in tribute to this statement, puffing out her cheeks for a moment. “You not cold?”

“Oh, I’m cold.” You flit your eyes over her with faux judgement. “Just not being a baby about it.” She huffs out a laugh, folding her arms.

“Fuck you, dude.”

Dude. You roll your eyes. Always dude, but ‘baby’ in your late night daydreams. You scrub the thought away.

An hour passes, and the snow is still coming down hard. 8:54AM.

“Okay, I’m sorry — what do you mean you’ve never played truth or dare before. Have you like, never met someone your age?” She’s smirking, always relishing in your lack of general knowledge because honestly, it made her feel like she had more to offer and teach you. You’re drawing a palm tree on the window’s condensation, the tropical sight doing nothing to mask the dreary weather outside of it.

“Okay first of all, we aren’t the same age — you’re twenty-two. That’s a few more years of experience to learn stuff that I haven’t.”

“And how old are you again? Eighteen?” She pretends to think.

“Twenty. And you knew that, idiot.”

She snickers, muttering a teasing “Baby face.” under her breath, drawing a comical penis shape with her finger beside your palm tree making you tsk and swat her away.

“Secondly, no— my old camp were all like, old people. I was the youngest there. Didn’t have anyone to teach me any of your weird games.”

It took you about twelve years of your life to realise that normal preteen girls didn’t have pointed ears atop their head, or a tail, or retractable claws and fangs. You knew you were different, yes. No one else in your small camp had features quite like yours, and you really knew you were different because you spent your life in hiding. Under protection. Ears shoved under hats and tail bunched beneath tight jeans. Hence, you know — the fear of warmer weather approaching.

You didn’t quite know where you came from and you were okay with that. Whispers between the couple that raised you, talks of your real dad being a scientist before this all went down which explains things… enough. You didn’t really want to know how you ended up this way, because it couldn’t have been good — or ethical for you to grow up part girl part animal.

19 years old, and you had moved into Jackson. Found at the gate. No more camp. No more found family. Just a girl who survived, stood in the snow. You’d met Ellie, a friend of Jesse who’d found you — and the two of you had hit it off instantly, as friends of course. Ellie liked how different you are to her, pretty naive with lots to learn in comparison to her hard edges and weathered attitude. When you weren’t biting back playfully at her sarcasm you were the ray of sunshine she’d needed in the snow globe that she lived in. She’d even stepped up to take you with her on patrol and ease you into learning how to fend for yourself a little, a skill you never acquired with your old group. That brings you here, sat on a window seat, trapped by a blizzard, doing very little learning. Okay, back to you Ellie.

“Truth or dare is not weird, I swear. Look, we can play it. Pass the time whilst we wait for the blizzard to chill out. You in?”

“Okay.”

“So,” She crosses her legs now. “You can pick, truth or dare. If you don’t answer your truth, I get to pick a dare. And uh, vice versa. Yeah. It’s simple.”

You nod, and she continues — rambling in typical Ellie style.

“Like, okay. Truth or dare?”

“Dare!” You grin happily.

“Alright, I dare you to run into the blizzard naked.”

“Uh — truth! Truth!” You change your answer, making her laugh.

“Alright… tell me about your first kiss.” She’s giddy, on the precipice of a laugh, dying to make fun of whatever story you come out with and you falter, dragging your eyes back to the window. The palm tree you drew in the condensation is starting to drip and create long clear lines down the window.

“I already told you, never met people around my age so… haven’t had one.” You shrug, peeling a bit of old paint off the windowsill. You glance up and she’s nodding with her lips turned down, trying really hard not to look judgy because she wasn’t, she swears and she didn’t want you to feel bad. She tucked away the thought that she found it cute. Found you cute. The thought of being your first kiss flashed through her mind as quickly as she erased it.

“Alright. No shame in the game. We’ll get you there.” She pats your foot reassuringly and you tense up in embarrassment slightly, a claw spiking through the knit of your glove making you close your palm into a fist on your lap. Ellie had heaps of experience, which kind of made your confession more embarrassing.

“Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” Her answer is almost instant.

“Boring.” You giggle.

“Whatever.”

You sigh… eyes wandering around the room, over the dusty canvases on the wall with paintings of mountains, perhaps the very mountains that surrounded your town— you couldn’t tell. What could you ask her? What did you actually want to know? What didn’t you already know? You bite your lip, eyes flickering around.

“Take your time.” She raises an eyebrow and you huff at her impatience.

“Okay, tell me something you’ve never told anyone else before. A secret that’ll literally bind us for life.” Your eyes twinkle and now it’s her turn to falter. She doesn’t want to glance at her covered arm, but she does anyway. Not that you’d ever be able to guess her big secret. No one could, you probably wouldn’t even believe her.

“Good question, see you’re getting the hang of it.” She raises her eyebrows, impressed and you bask in the sound of the icy winds outside, head slowly tilting to the side as you watch her grow a little uneasy. Ellie Williams, your best friend had a big secret. And you knew all of her secrets, so you were doubly intrigued. You knew about the time her and Dina got too drunk and kissed before practically yelling at eachother that it felt too wrong and they’d never do it again, you knew about the time she didn’t wanna trade any items at the little store for food so she selfishly shoved a can of tomato soup in her pocket and ducked out, knew all the rest of them because you remember her drunkenly shoving her hand over your giggling mouth and whispering “You actually can’t tell anyone, okay? Shit, why do I tell you these things?”

“Okay. I’m immune.”

“To being slapped? Answer my truth or face your forfeit.” You were grinning ear to ear, like she thought you would and — she nearly wanted to just leave it there. Let you believe she was joking. But oh, your perceptive self. You saw the falter of her bashful expression, the way honesty coloured her face and for once she couldn’t make eye contact. Surely not? “Immune?” You repeat, more like a statement but you’re confused nonetheless.

“Uh, yeah.” There’s no humour in her tone and yet you’re still smiling, waiting on her still to smirk or chuckle or something. When you just stare at her, she starts to undo her jacket. “I can uh, I can kind of prove it, I guess?” She pushes her hoodie sleeve up, and you’re faced with the tattoo you’ve stared at many times before. The pink pad of her finger traces along the inside of her arm, and your eyes focus — honing in on the faint scar curtained behind the dark blue ink. “There… was a bite here. Me and my friend were together when we were kids and we both got bit. She turned and… yeah, guess I’m still waiting.” Her eyes were distant, and yeah — Ellie played jokes on you sometimes. You were gullible and naive, not having faced the usual prankish behaviour of people similar in age to you before but this? She wasn’t that great of an actor. There was actual, real life pain behind her avoidant gaze.

“You’re serious?” You furrow your brows and she purses her lips, a pinkie-finger of gesture held in the air.

“Swear.”

You stare at her arm, and she reaches for her jacket again — feeling the chill of the house again despite an uncertain heat creeping up her neck. “How do you know it wasn’t just a one off?”

She shrugs. “Guess we’ll know if I get bitten again.” She chuckles dismissively. You go to speak, tell her how life changing her secret was but she’s quicker. “Alright, your turn. Now I’ve told you something no one else knows you gotta do the same. Biggest secret, go.” She exhales, and it feels like the room is alleviated of some of the pressure.

“Excuse me, what if I wanted to pick dare?”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Well then.”

Your ears twitched and you brought your knees to your chin. Ellie was just so vulnerable with you, but you’d always been told — under every single circumstance not to tell anyone about your…rarity. It was something that not even you understood, so sharing it with others could put you in danger. People often lashed out at what they didn’t understand, you were told it was that way in the old world too— though you’re sure people weren’t quite dealing with being a hybrid with a literal animal.

“I’m not sure you’re ready for my secret.”

“Dude, I just fucking told you I can’t get infected, you’re not gonna top that.” She exasperated, prodding your leg with her knuckles. She didn’t beat around the bush with her secret, or make you beg for the reveal — so you figured you’d cut straight to the chase. You pulled your hat off your head, ears standing to attention — hearing just that tiny bit clearer. Ellie raised an eyebrow, not sure what she was looking at, about to make some kind of comment like ‘Uh, your secret is that you have hair?’ — until her eyes darted up and stayed there. You pulled off your gloves too and held your hand between the two of you, sharp claws extending. Ellie jumped, and you pulled back shamefully.

“What is… what am I… what am I looking at?” She gawked breathlessly, eyes widening at the way your ears twitched shyly, the outside of them coated by fur the same colour as your hair, the inside of your ears pink, sprouting wispy white hair from it. Ellie could barely keep her mouth closed.

“Yeah, so… I’m like a girl who is also a cat who is also just a girl— nothing weird I swear — apparently my dad was a scientist and he made some fucked up combination DNA and — ah, it doesn’t matter. I’m a freak. Laugh it up.” You ramble, waving your hand in a way you hoped was dismissive and in that moment a gun to your head wouldn’t have made you make eye contact with the auburn haired friend parallel to you.

“Hey, wait — I’m just trying to… holy shit?” She furrows her brows before chuckling. “I feel like I’m having a weird ass dream right now, dude.”

You reach for your hat to shove it back on, and her heavy hand lays on top of yours. She watched the way your ears flattened like aeroplane wings and you frowned a little. “I’m sorry… I’m not laughing at you. That’s… fucking awesome. You’re like a comic book character, man.”

Your eyes lifted from her hand, heart thundering in your chest both from her reaction to your big reveal and her hand laying on yours. “So, a freak.” You go to move your hand but she grips it.

“No, just… cool… don’t… put your hat back on yet. I’ve got questions.”

A pause sat between the two of you, and she broke out into a smile again. “Fuck you, your thing totally beats my thing.”

“Thats not a question, Els.”

11:20AM

“So does this mean you’re immune too? Pretty sure animals can’t get infected.”

The window had fogged over completely now, view of beyond the window obstructed but you didn’t mind. It felt more enclosed, in a good way. The outside world didn’t exist anymore.

“I’m not fully an animal though. Don’t wanna risk finding out.”

She sat back, looking at you incredulously. Not like you were a spectacle, or a circus performer from the old world — but like you were something magnificent. Like a unicorn, or a fairy.

“This is gonna… take me some time to get used to. You sure you’re not fuckin’ with me?” She turns her head suspiciously.

“Oh I’m pretty sure. Had to live my whole life with cat ears and a tail, would be a awfully sick prank.” You huff, focusing your attention on scraping off the shimmery pink nail polish you had acquired on a previous patrol. You’d painted them to distract from the subtle claw-like appearance they had even when they weren’t extended.

“You have a tail? Show me.”

“Oh yeah, I’ll just pull down my pants.”

“Oh shit, yeah. My bad.”

You sat together, and you shifted under her gaze, palms itching to pull your hat back over your ears, shielding yourself from her prying gaze. This was… out of your comfort zone. You trusted Ellie with your life, sure. But this was a lot. You’d been hiding this element to your self your whole life and suddenly you’re practically hollering it from the mountain tops all because you were enticed to share a secret during a silly little game? Who else would you tell just because they’d given you positive attention?

“You wanna touch my ears?” You blurt out. What the fuck?

Ellie’s smile grew, telling you her answer and it was too late to take it back now. She slid her ass forward a little, knees pressing directly against yours now and lifted her hand slowly, carefully, almost as though you’d spook like a real cat if she moved too quickly. You seemed to blink, and then she was right there, her face so close to yours that her warm breath fanned over your face making your eyelashes tickle at the breeze she created. She clears her throat, eyes just floating up above your hairline and you feel the pads of her fingers gently trail down the backs of your ears.

She lets her knuckles gently smooth back the velvety fur coating, before getting more comfortable — short blunt nails scratching right in that sweet spot behind them. With the ball of her hand gently pressed to your temple as she scratched, you melted. The best way to describe it would be the feeling of sinking into a hot bath after being out in the cold wind, rain and snow. A sheet of goosebumps lined up across your arms and up your spine, your tail struggling in your jeans to curl up in pleasure. There was a gentle humming sound, like an engine maybe… a low rickety wind passing through a wooden floor board…

“Are you purring?” She cooed, and your eyes fluttered open. You don’t even remember closing them. The ghost of an alarmed bullet shot through your body but it just… felt too nice to react. Your pupils were dilated to fuck, it was almost startling to see.

“I guess.” You chuckle, a shudder flying through you, the warm purring sound continuing on. “Sorry.” You offer, but it’s half hearted.

“No, don’t.” She whispers with an impressed smile, eyes pinned by your intense gaze — voice gentle, as if not wanting to break the intimate force field she’d created around the two of you. “You’re so… cute.” She grins enough to show her teeth now, you rest the weight of your head more into her hand, pushing for more scratches now that her fingers slowed down, distracted. Your eyes flutter closed, sleepy and euphoric— and then open once more, a constant battle between wanting to just melt away, and also wanting to look at Ellies beautiful face so close up. She seemed to get closer each time you opened them, eyes drifting from your blackened gaze… to your lips…

Maria’s voice was the last thing you expected to hear in that moment and you both jumped. It was static-y, buzzing, making your head snap towards the radio Ellie had let clatter to the floor beneath the window seat. “Blizzards gone and cleared up now, two of you can start headin’ back now before it decides to pick up again.”

You swipe at the fogged window creating a viewing hole through the condensation, snow settling now instead of batting down hard against the ground. You sigh out, and you’re not sure if it’s in relief of the weather clearing up or the tension breaking — but Ellie seems to be shaking herself out of it too.

“Alright, uh — y’ready to head back out there kitty-cat?” She’s back to her usual self, hopping off the window seat and scooping her backpack and radio off the ground, securing them back onto her person.

“Ready as ever. Can’t wait to go home and nap.” You stretch, now standing beside her waiting for instruction. She sways in your direction with a smirk, raising a brow.

“A cat nap?”

“Are you gonna do this from now on?” You hide your amusement, leaning on your hip. She chuckled to herself, pulling her gloves back on before nodding her head for you to follow — taking off in a casual stride.

“Sorry. Let’s go get Shimmer from the garage.”

You pout, padding along behind her as you think of her stood there alone. “I hope she wasn’t too cold. She was shut in there for ages.”

“She’ll be fine. Old girl’s a trooper.”

SPRING

You didn’t regret telling Ellie, infact you were so glad.

It seemed to have brought you closer, the two of you against the world. The weather had finally cleared of snow by mid April, the green returning to all of nature. She’d helped you accommodate, coming to your home in the mornings and helping you pin your ears down to your head, gently manoeuvring your hair to sit on top of them, inconspicuous. Asking you “Does that hurt?” and “Can you hear?” in a sleepy morning voice. You, on the other hand would sit there trying not to pur at her touch. There was still some bite in the air, especially around evening time so you could still get away with stuffing your tail into your jeans, but the two of you often walked around in the sunshine on the days one or both of you weren’t outside the gate on patrol. Nights were spent having sleepovers, falling asleep cuddling because you know — it was convenient and cold at night time, especially convenient if you were getting up early for a patrol together. Definitely not because you wanted to spend every waking moment together.

You had been curled up reading, relaxed, ready to head to bed in an hour or so when there was a knock at your door. Your ears perked up, and you scuttled out of bed and looked through your peep hole, relieved to find the wind bitten, pink cheeked face of your best friend. You figured she’d just gotten back from patrol, swaddled in a khaki green windbreaker and jeans, hair in your favourite style — half up half down. You swing the door open, ushering her in.

She doesn’t mean to ogle you, but it happens anyway — eyes drawn to your bushy tail shyly curling round your thigh, a hole cut in the back of your pyjama shorts specifically for that reason when you turned around. “Hey you, couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way back to my house. Plus, I got somethin’ to show you.” She wiggles her brows, heading to your room.

“Y’want a drink?” You call after her to which she promptly replies with “Please!” already disappearing into the warm comfort that was your bedroom. Your bedroom, a God damn hassle for Ellie to construct. You had… a vision, and that vision became Ellie’s problem when you’d started to build your little home space. “Els if you see any pink blankets on your patrol today please please please grab me one?” “Ellieeee I need a picture frame, like — a cute one.” “If I don’t get a fluffy throw cushion for my bed soon, I might die.” The list goes on. Her patrols were ever-filled with heavy backpacks, trinkets carefully balanced on top of eachother or stuffed into pockets. She smiles warmly at the memory, walking around your room — taking in each item along with its memory of finding it and smuggling it back into Jackson. Her eyes are glazing over your bed sheets now, thinking about you curled up in the you-spaced shape you’d left on the blankets, thinking about you fast asleep in the night beautiful as ever, thinking about you writhing on them with less clothes on — gross, Ellie — shake it off.

A matted tuft of darkened hair peeped from your mass of bed covers and Ellie squinted, bending over to get a closer look before pinching it with her fingers and lifting it. A clump of hair sat in her palm and she raised her eyebrows. Was that a —

“What you lookin’ at?” Your voice is sudden, lighthearted, right behind her— and she jumps, turning her head over her shoulder to glance at you guiltily. You stand wide eyed and innocent, a glass of water for her clutched in your hand.

“Jesus, fuck — we gonna have to get you a collar with a bell on it or what?” She rolls her eyes, clutching her chest before recovering, taking her glass and sipping as she holds up her findings. For a moment, something twitches in you down below at the thought of wearing a bell around your neck for Ellie. The feeling is warm and homely and disgustingly horny and you feel a little shame. She swallows her water an ‘ah’ and explains “Was just uh— I found a fur ball.”

You look at the clump of hair in her hand, then up at her, then back to the clump — and then you’re moving past her. You straighten out your blankets, revealing a hair brush and hold it up— plucking the ‘hairball’ from her hand and grasping it side by side. “From my hairbrush… doofus.”

Ellie makes an ‘o’ shape with her mouth and chuckles, scratching her arm awkwardly after placing down her glass — feeling maybe she’d jumped to a conclusion. This feeling is unfortunately confirmed when she sees your brows furrow, softening in stature ever so slightly.

“Do you really think I’m like… dirty and animalistic? I don’t get fur balls, Ellie.” You sound defeated and just a smidgen whiny, but she’s a sucker for it and grasps your arms gently either side with two strong hands.

“No! I’m an idiot! I’m sorry. Total jackass.” She reassures and you tilt your head, pout turning into a gentle smile. This gives her the green light to move things along. “However, I did get you a little something that might help us understand your… condition a little better.” The auburn haired girl is already shucking off her black beaten up backpack, struggling with the zip for a moment before sliding out a thick hard back book, a manual of some kind. Her eyes are on you, searching for any sign of offence and you catch the title when she spins it around proudly — ‘Caring for your kitty’.

She’s off like a race car with an excited explanation before you even get the chance to breathe, opening it up and flicking through it. “Stopped at that old library today, you know the one we thought the entrance was blocked off and we couldn’t go inside? Well — Jesse found another way in — so I was just lookin’ around, seeing if there was anything interesting and I found this bad boy. It tells you everything you need to know about caring for a cat and well… don’t wanna be a dick but… I’m caring for a cat, kind of.”

As she spoke, your grin only widened — pathetically, and totally embarrassingly so, because it was going against everything you had taught your self. You’d wanted to push this side of you down for what, your whole life? And then Ellie comes along, with her pretty green eyes and her tattoo and her hand veins and her — whatever, and suddenly you’re completely and utterly embracing the fact you’re like, absolutely fucked up, genetically? Crushing on your best friend makes you do crazy, stupid things. You bat your eyelashes at her, regardless.

“You care for me?” It was kind of a joke, but your voice came out softly anyway and Ellie couldn’t look at you because of it, continuing to thumb through the pages, very concentrated, what was that one page again?

“Why’d you think I brought this big ass manual back? Wanna look after you.” She mutters. You soften completely, and she realises that she said that out loud. You look at her, and she looks at you — and then she looks away because God damn, she’s falling in love. “Anyways. Thought we could go through it together. You got those sweatpants I left here? My jeans are like, damp.” She rambles, and you let it slide — though you’re positively floating when you point her to your dresser, pressing the neatly folded grey pants into her arms with a hazed out smile. “Thanks.”

You turn around when she changes. You’re not sure why, she’s wearing boxers — and you have some skirts stashed away that are probably shorter and more revealing (which you unfortunately couldn’t wear due to having a tail) but you look away anyways, out of respect. You clamber back onto your bed waiting for her, and soon she’s sliding up beside you in just her black tshirt and sweatpants, comfy and warm. Ellie clears her throat, sitting up against the headboard and opens the manual for the two of you to check out. “Ahem, caring for your kitty. With special thanks to Juliana.” She reads formally and you giggle, scooching closer until your cheek is pressed to her arm so that you could see the book. “Shout out to Juliana.” She comments, flipping the page.

You snuggle in closer to her, because well — it feels natural. The two of you had always been affectionate since becoming friends and since you’d shared your secrets it had only become more binding. When Joel had comment that you two were literally attached at the hip, it was by no exaggeration. The fat of your cheek pushed up enough to shut one eye as you practically tried to merge with her bicep, warm breath tickling her light arm hair.

“Y’always smell like oatmeal.” You comment, voice sleepy from her warmth and she’d barely even gotten the chance to read anything yet.

Her hand freezes on the page for a millisecond as she acknowledges your statement. “So— wait, oatmeal? That’s gross dude. I don’t wanna smell like oatmeal.” She complains, causing you to lift your head having busted out into a giggle fit. She lifts her hand and sniffs it, looking at you with a displeased expression trying to decipher your observation.

“No! It’s a good thing I like it. It’s just… Ellie smell.” You rub your eye tiredly and she’s fighting every urge not to kiss all over your cheeks at how God damn adorable you are.

“Oatmeal. Great.” She chuckles, shaking her head before nudging you with her elbow — a silent command for you to lay back down on her so that she could read.

And the two of you did, for a little while anyway. The manual was more helpful than the both of you had originally thought, and you came to realise that you had a lot more in common with the animal than you’d had believed. Between each paragraph, the two of you would launch off into conversations and comparisons, Ellie asking you questions about your behaviours and habits. It made your heart swell at how much she truly cared. “Kitten will feel attached to her owner when being scratched behind the ears.” Ellie reads out monotonously, thinking, before reaching up and scratching behind your ears. “To say I’m your owner would be a little crazy, I must admit. Can’t deny you some good old scratches though.” She chides in amusement, watching your happy smile melt into a dozed pur. You can own me, Ellie — God you can —

She read and read and read until you were nodding off, eyes fluttering shut and disappearing off into a dream land as Ellie’s raspy voice trails off, fondly watching you as your lips parted a little, more of your warm weight sinking into her side. “Okay.” She whispered, to no one in particular— and closed the book quietly, stretching to reach behind her and place it on your bedside table, turning off your lamp too.

Ellie was always a light sleeper, maybe she was paranoid or just protective — because she seemed to wake up constantly when she’d stay with you. Not that you didn’t make her feel more relaxed than anyone ever had, because you certainly did. She just… fuck, she didn’t know. She needed to be alert at all times. Just in case.

Tonight was like any other time, stirring at the cooing of a heavy wind outside the rattling windows. Her eyes found the back of your head immediately and settled a little, comfortable and dozed with the feeling of your ass grazing her front and the warmth of your back blanketing her. You slept like two people in love and if she were more awake she’d probably mourn the relationship that was out of her grasp. Too much of a pussy, too much of a risk to ruin things. But this, this she could enjoy in her half awake consciousness.

She was about to drift back off, perhaps a deeper sleep this time knowing that everything is alright and you’re safe from the harsh winds of Spring. Until, she felt a prodding. That was the best way to describe it. Like you were poking her, despite both of your arms being curled at your front visibly. She panicked for a moment, which woke her enough to open her eyes and gaze down at whatever the hell was poking her in the stomach. Your tail.

It curled at the end like a question mark, curious and wandering. She watches, fascinated at how you could be sound asleep and yet your tail had a mind of its own. It knocked on her, like it was asking for entry before it poked lower, lower, Jesus, lower. Without time for her to respond, your tail slots itself between her thighs, curling around and cupping her cunt. She gasps, bringing a hand up that was originally going to cover her mouth, but ran over her own head instead, frozen and unsure of what to do in this situation.

Why was your tail touching her up whilst you slept innocently on the other end of it? She knew you were sleeping for sure because of the quiet snores and the even quieter hum of your pur — making her wonder how she never noticed it before you’d told her about your rarity. Your tail slithered like a snake as if trying to get comfortable, which made Ellie’s mouth hang open as it practically moulded itself to the shape of her. The agile tip of your tail curled around, brushing against the material of her sweatpants all the way up to her clit and she winced, enough to stir you a little. Your tail seemed to go a little limp as you groan quietly, your sleep disturbed. God, what if she wakes up and finds me like this? Her fucking tail getting me off. That’s weird, oh god — you’re a creep Ellie. Move, move now. Jesus.

She spins around so the two of you are back to back, staring at the wall. Ellie clenches her thighs so that your tail can’t slip through them and grope her again, frowning as she squeezes her eyes closed in shame at how good it felt. It was wrong. Wrong and creepy and awful and she hated herself for letting it go on for that long. She willed herself to sleep, repeating those words like a mantra.

The next day you plant flowers together in the community garden. She doesn’t bring it up.

SUMMER

There were certain pages in the manual that the two of you would skip. It was too awkward, too intrusive — pages you would separately read in your own time.

If you don’t get your female cat spayed, they’re going to go into heat. How exciting! And if you’re experiencing kitty in heat for the first time, you’re probably wondering: how do I cope with this? Dealing with a restless, frisky kitty may seem like a challenging task, but it’s not nearly as difficult as you may think. We’ve outlined plenty of quick tips and suggestions to help calm your cat down in the short term, as well as some solutions to prevent heat in the long term. In just a few minutes, you’ll be able to give your loving furball the support and respite she needs during this tough time.

Ellie snickered when she read it the first time, a night where you’d fallen asleep at her house, curled up on the end of the bed by her feet. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep there, it just happened — trying to give yourself space on the particularly warm evening. Not everything in this manual applied to you, like you’d insisted plenty of times — you’re mainly all human. Despite the purring, you hadn’t felt you’d demonstrated any feline-like behaviours (Ellie disagrees strongly, but can’t bring herself to argue.) That night she had sat up later, reading about cats in heat — wondering if… you’d ever… what would she do… no, Ellie. Stop.

When summer had approached, something had flipped. Things were normal until they weren’t— and at first you could blame it on the weather, the serotonin flooding everyone’s systems from the influx of Vitamin D, being able to wear less and enjoy more. Days seeming longer. Life seeming better. You’d grown more affectionate with Ellie, not fighting the urge anymore to be touching her at all times. Gently sinking your teeth into her freckled skin when you felt the urge, wrapping your tail around her leg when you’d stand side by side in your kitchen, clambering onto her lap with the manual and urging her to read some more so you could get sleepy and comfortable and fall asleep on top of her. You saw the way people would look at the two of you around Jackson together, they thought you were together — and you didn’t mind — even though you weren’t. Just two super close best friends.

When the calendar had rolled over to July, things seemed to intensify by ten. Things were changing, urges growing stronger. You couldn’t control yourself purring when Ellie would simply enter the room, kneading your claws into your seat of the canteen area pulling up threads, needing to be near her. Practically vibrating the floorboards in total bliss when she’s give you a friendly, subtle ear scratch in public being careful not to unpin your ears. Saliva pooling inside your mouth with the urge to lick her all over when she’d arrive to your home late at night after a rough patrol, ready to crawl into bed beside you and surrender herself to your grabby paws hands. Wanting to pounce on her when she’d greet you by the gardens, knuckle knocking gently beneath your chin with a friendly “Mornin’ kitty-cat.” Worst of all, the growing neediness you’d succumb to each night you weren’t together, mewling as you’d grind against a pillow pretending it was her thigh, soaking the sheets. You were starting to accept that you were experiencing your first ever heat.

You particularly enjoyed summer evenings in Jackson. The air was was balmy and warm without the scalding, overwhelming sunshine like there was in the day. Most if not all citizens would be in the town centre at movie night or the bar — which created a perfectly calm and empty landscape for walks. It was one that day, the one that’s about to unfold — that you were particularly dazed. You felt high, sensitive, walking on air. You wear a bell around your neck now, a giggly patrol gift from Ellie — something that tinkles quietly and could be confused with simple jewellery to the untrained eye. It sounds each step you take, a comforting noise that was special to you and your best friend. Your summer dress grazed above your knees, and due to no one being around, you didn’t quite care that your tail would occasionally peak out when a warm breeze would pass through.

You stroll past the flowers you and Ellie had planted in spring, stroll past the empty playground with the wooden climbing equipment that you had to continue walking on from to not give into the urge to dig your aching claws into. Your mind was set on finding Ellie — Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, who’d supposedly just be returning home from patrol. As expected, nothing quite getting past your astute cat wisdom — there she stood, facing away from you in just her adorable oversized white tshirt, greenish brownish greenish flannel and long baggy denim shorts. Your whole body felt hot and the sight of her, heart pumping and palms tingling. Approaching slowly, you hear her quietly talking to Shimmer as she undresses her of her equipment, occasionally stopping to give her affectionate pats and love. Ellie was always good with animals.

Figures.

You step closer, alerting Ellie of your presence. “Here kitty.” She smirks, continuing to remove Shimmer’s saddle before turning over her shoulder, eyeing you briefly.

“How’d you know I was here?” You swoon, dumb smile on your face as you step up to her. Probably too close, but something inside of you was clawing to be able to smell her, be able to feel the warmth radiating off her body. She doesn’t react to the proximity, just lifting a finger and jingling the bell at your neck. You fight a shudder when her coarse fingertip grazes the soft skin of your neck.

“Hard to miss you. That bell was definitely a good investment, you’re not sneakin’ up on me anymore, huh.”

She continues tending to Shimmer as you watch, a fond smile on your face.

“How was patrol? ‘Missed you.” You tug at her flannel sleeve for attention and she chuckles good naturedly, rolling her eyes.

“Wasn’t gone for that long, was I? You’re always missing me lately. Is somethin’ up?” She turns her head to you again inquisitively, concern flashing through her eyes — as well as the stream of bright light from the sunset through the crack in the barn wall. She squints.

“Uh…” You sigh out softly. Yes. I need you. I want you. Come here. Fuck me. “No. I dunno.” You shrug, forcing yourself to look away, defeated. No, you’re here for a reason. “Can you come over tonight? Sleepover?” You realise you’re still clinging to her sleeve and she’s letting you, her eyes drifting to the way your hand slides downwards and catches her hand, intertwining your fingers. You know, just best friend things.

“Jesse asked me to hang out but…” She started, but trailed off when you became all fluttery lashes and bambi-eyed. “Fuck it,” She breathes. “I’m too tired for his shit today anyway.”

You grin, successful and tilt your head. “Not too tired for my shit?” and she scoffs, squeezing your hand.

“Never.”

She steps back, your joined hands bridging the two of you still. Her eyes are trailing down again. That little sundress, she hadn’t seen that before. Maybe hanging in your closet, but not out of the house. Her eyes dip lower and she sees a flash of fur swinging behind you, jostling your dress. Her eyes widen a little. “Hey.” She emphasises, nodding her head down. You’re still staring at her, at her freckles and the way they’re shaded from the sun — a halo of bronze and natural flush.

“Hm?” You sing. She furrows her brows.

“Your dress is short.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“What? Uh— fuck, I mean, yeah — but I’m saying other people might see your…” She nods again in gesture, nervous.

“Tail?” Your fingers trail up her flannel sleeve a little.

“Yeah. People might not be as… open to all that, babe.” Babe. A slip up, usually — usually said when she wanted to soften the blow, or when she physically couldn’t stop the affection from meeting her lips. You preened at the word anyway, didn’t even bother to hide it.

“No one’s around.”

Your claw traces the blue green vein on her pale wrist. You don’t remember it coming out, these days it seemed they just did it on their own. She winces at the light scratch, but she lets you anyway. Just ogling, wide eyed, a little confused and a little turned on — which confused her all the more. She silently begged herself, get a grip.

She tore her hand away, hoisting her backpack off her back and swinging it around — damn near smacking you in the face with it. “Got you a present. Know you like those.” She rushes out, sounding a little out of breath like she’d been running. You liked it, liked that you did that to her. You’re smiling and she’s like, ignoring it — because she knows you know you flustered her and that’s not like Ellie. Not like calm and collected Ellie Williams.

“For me? You shouldn’t have.”

She digs around, pulling out a black rectangular VHS tape. Hard to come by, but always a delight seeing as you had a TV facing your bed in your room that refused CD discs and would only play grainy tapes. Ellie turned it in her hands, displaying the white tape across the front that read in someone unknowns Sharpie’d handwriting ‘Disney Aristocats’

“Think it’s about cats. Thought it would be funny.” She chuckles humbly, her ‘you hate it. fuck my life.’ thoughts kicking in as expected.

“We can watch it tonight!” You grin, gently taking it from her — clutching it proudly in your hands. She relaxes, shoulders unstiffening.

“Cool. Uh, yeah.” She nods, scratching her scalp which made the half-up-bun bob at the back of her head. She looks at you, and then looks around, and then back at you. Always back at you. “Alright. Let me go home and shower, you go set everything up and I’ll be round soon. Just… get outta here, before anyone sees you. Yeah?” Ellie exasperates, softly clapping two hands down on your shoulders and spinning you around, carefully nudging you to start walking away.

“M’kay. See you then, Els.”

“See ya, trouble.” Eye roll. Or maybe her eyes just rolled back at the sight of you swishing away in your little sundress. She’s not sure.

You were stood in front of the mirror when the door knocked. Your heart jumped — like you weren’t expecting Ellie to even come for some reason — but more so because you wasn’t sure you could get away with pyjamas this skimpy. You wanted to seduce her, sure. But this was just obscene. You wore, what essentially was just a long tank top. It fell mid thigh, flimsy and thin, showing every curve and dip and plumpness to you. You didn’t ever feel insecure around Ellie, no — but she might just call you a slut.

There was no time to change, so you ran and got the door, feigning confidence. Something was… different about the way she was stood there. Her hands were in her jean pockets awkwardly, like she didn’t know what to do with them. She’d actually cleaned up surprisingly, wearing her jeans and off white wifebeater. She somewhat looked like she was trying, but maybe that was all in your head. She didn’t look you in the eye either, thick brown lashes fluttered slightly as her eyes jumped down you in segments. Tits, then tummy, then hips, and then tail. The sight of it flapping about freely made her usher you inside quickly, always aware of the risks.

“Hey furball, y’ready to watch the movie?” She clears her throat, looking around your house like she’d never seen it before. Nervous? Something else?

“Told you not to call me that, doofus. But yes, follow me.” You giggle, and that’s all you seem to do around her these days if not purring — constant girlish giggles tumbling past your lips at the slightest joke. It bordered on pathetic.

She enters your room with a chuckle, like — the type that says ‘you’re so fucking cute.’ in Ellie’s voice, if you can imagine. You’d set the movie up, the screen buzzing with static playing old timey music with the start up screen for the movie awaiting the two of you. You’d rustled together every blanket and cushion you could get your hands on to create some kind of nest for the two of you to get all cuddled up in, and even more than that if your plans went how they should. It smells like you in the room, and Ellie wants to stand there and breathe in so hard her ribs crack from the expansion just to inhale you in completely. There’s no time for that, because you’re ushering her down on the bed. It’s almost horny just from the way you push her down, both hands on the warm skin of her freckled shoulders — your smooth and grabbable thighs between her legs. “Get comfy. But not too comfy. You always fall asleep when we watch movies.”

But how could she fall asleep when you’re dressed like that? In your natural form, wearing so little and showing so much. Her palms felt like little ants were inside her skin, running around like their tiny heads were on fire — or maybe it was just the hand static from not being able to touch your electric skin, to graze her coarseness over your smoothness and hear the sizzle of you up against fingertips. She wanted to hold you by the back of the head, take all your weight, all your thoughts, all of you.

But she was here to watch a movie, like a good best friend. And if that’s what you needed that’s what she’d be.

Turns out trying to seduce someone into scratching the itch that’s been aching you for weeks was harder than expected. How were you supposed to initiate this again? Hadn’t you thought about this time and time again, written about your dream scenarios of getting down and dirty with Ellie in the middle of your diary where no one would look if they’d found it and opened it up? You’d practised this, time and time again whilst you fall asleep — or whilst you’re fucking your hand, or whilst you’re staring at her profile idly whilst she sits and draws. God, how do you make the first move?

You’re staring at her whilst this rackets your brain, and you don’t realise how shamelessly you’re gawking at her until she side-eyes you, a fond little smirk daring to grace her features — it was audacious how cute she was. “Somethin’ on your mind?”

She’s practically handing you the opportunity. Your skin burns, body pressed to hers. Her arm is wrapped around your shoulder, the two of you propped up laying back on your bed and it’s all set up perfectly. You could say a million things, you could push your weight up on your elbow and reach up and kiss the side of her rubied lips. You want to slot a hand right between your thighs there and then, relieve yourself, show her what she’s done to you. The mess she’s made out of you.

You squeak out a “Nope.” despite all of this.

You keep planning and rehearsing, not concentrating on the cat movie anymore, that’s for damn sure. Who was that old lady again? What was that cats name? Who cares. You’re staring, syncing your breath to hers. You think yourself to sleep, cheek pressed to her collar bone and soft snores. Completely unsuccessful, but there’s always next time right?

When you wake up a few hours later things feel different. You’re not touching Ellie anymore — Hell, she could be gone for all you know. But you’re feverish, throat dry and prickly. Your skin is broken out into goosebumps despite the heat, your thin tank top dress completely stuck to your skin and sheering from the pure amount of sweat drenching you. What the fuck? Were you sick? You’re panting, aching but not all over — only in your… you reach down, half awake and feel your slick coating your inner thighs, pooling your cunt. You felt feral.

Your eyes shoot open now, because — well, you can’t be doing that. Can’t be touching yourself like that with Ellie right there. The room is glowing blue, and you locate the TV screen causing it. The movie is gone, finished, and the screen is on a standby channel, quiet and staticy as it alights the bedroom. You turn to Ellie, because you need her suddenly, feeling like you’ll burst into tears or cum without touch, whichever comes first and you don’t know why. Any shyness has left you when you turn, spinning onto your hands and knees to touch her and shake her awake.

She’s laying on her front, her wifebeater having ridden up a little to display some of her back. Her arm hugs her pillow, and you don’t remember her being that sculpted — her arms, the ones that hold you when you hug and lift the heavy gates on patrol. You reach out and touch, and then grab, and then you shake her awake. “Els, Ellie please.”

It doesn’t take her much, she’s a light sleeper as mentioned before. She panics a little, flipping onto her back when she hears your trembling, whiney tone. What’s wrong? What happened? She’s reaching for you before her eyes are fully open.

“Hey, wha’samatter?” She croaks, one eye squinting shut in the bright blue glow. You go to tell her but you just whisper her name again, and again and you just need her to touch. Your hand grabs her arm again and she sits up fully, eyes widening a little as she wakes up properly. “Hey, talk t’me.”

“Look at me I’m—” You whine quietly, gesturing to your fevered appearance but you feel like you don’t have time to explain. You have no sense of patience or shame when you scooch closer, hands sliding over her shoulders so your foreheads are nearly touching. You look deranged and her cunt twitches.

“I need you Els. Somethin’ is going on with me and I just... I don’t know but I need you.” You beg. Jesus, she must be having some kind of wet dream.

“What? Uh— you — need me how?” She stutters, and she feels like a fuckin’ idiot because where was the suave flirting skills and pizazz she promised herself she’d have when the day came that you finally asked her to touch you? Let her have you? Her stomach clenches in cringe but she barely has time to overthink it because you’re moving impossibly closer. Your tits are practically spilling out and Ellie’s palms are sweating so much that it makes her insecure.

“Think somethings wrong with me, think I’m in—”

“You’re in heat.” Your words overlap and the two of you are whispering like there’s anyone else in the house that might overhear you. “Yeah, uh — shit man, I read about it in the book, you know? I didn’t know if you’d… if you’d be able to… whatever. What do you need? You need some water?” She’s rambling, needing to think carefully about her actions. She didn’t wanna take advantage of you when you were so vulnerable… was this like, weird? Not because you’re her best friend — no, this has been Ellie’s long game since you met — but because of the whole… feline thing.

“No I don’t need water Ellie, I just want you to help me. It… it aches.” You cry miserably, dropping your face into her shoulder defeatedly. She smells so good, just like her — like Ellie, but so much stronger than usual, your senses heightened by ten. It weakened you, feeling this out of control. You sniffle, rubbing your nose into her top and she rubs your drenched back — sympathetic.

“Is it because it’s like… a full moon or something?” She asks quietly and your brows furrow in annoyance, pushing yourself off her to be face to face again.

“M’not a werewolf Ellie.” You pout, and her lips twitch up into a nervous half chuckle, relaxing a little as she reaches up and smoothes her thumb between your brows. She sighs. And then laughs quietly.

“I know that.”

The two of you look at eachother for a moment, a silent conversation in the place of what should be confessing feelings. You feel like you take the first step when you glance at her lips, and she returns it by glancing at yours. The looks get more eager, and your bodies thrust closer, and you kiss.

You wished it was romantic, like you’d planned for months. But it’s needy and eager and you’re panting and whining within thirty seconds of having her tongue glide against yours. You’re lucky that Ellie is just eagerly going with it, happy to be there. You didn’t wanna make her uncomfortable or come across as forceful — but that didn’t seem to be the case at all, especially not when she let out a little groan at the feeling of of you sinking down pointed teeth into her bottom lip.

She topples back when you lean into her more and you’re clambering onto her lap, thighs shaking. You hear yourself before you realise you’re not kissing anymore, instead whispering “Please, please, please.” against her lips with your eyes screwed shut as you grind your soaked cunt onto her jean covered one. Where you’d usually make a comment about her sleeping in jeans, you pant — and she lets out an embarrassingly loud, wide eyed groan at the feeling. The zipper digs into both of your clits from either side.

“Fuck, fuck okay.” Her hands hover, and she doesn’t know where to grab first. This is happening, God this is really fucking happening. She blushes at the thought of her dorkishly pinching herself, just to check it’s not some super torturous vivid dream as her hands float before just pawing at your back, pulling you closer. Closer. Need her closer.

You shuffle back in the dark, hands fumbling for that zipper that you’d made warm and wet through your cotton underwear and tug it down so harshly you think it’s gonna come off. Buttons get unpopped, and fingers get tucked into a waistband before you’re yanking down. Ellie’s getting whiplash at the speed you’re moving, eyes flickering across your desperate and pained expression. Fat tears sit beneath your eyes as you mutter the word ‘closer’ again, an inkling of relief when you pull her jeans down to her mid thighs revealing soft black boxers.

You sit on her again, and — that’s it, that’s the friction you wanted. You can feel the raised, round mould of her pussy through the material and she gasps when you grind down onto her, forcing herself up onto her elbows, eyes rolling back a little, hands gripping your thigh creases as she stared down at your white underwear smushing itself into hers in the dim light. You’re whimpering (and so is she for a moment), hips jerking forward and Ellie genuinely doesn’t know what to do with you. It feels so fucking good, but she feels like she’s not stepping up the way she should. She wants to take control, make it all better for you like she always does.

“Fuck, okay babe. Chill, okay? Mhpm, I got you. Let me help you. S’what I’m here for right? Lay back.” She whispers, and leans forward again to ease you backwards and like she can’t help it, presses another kiss to your lips. You both freeze, because this time it has feeling behind it. That’s also what you needed, you needed her to take control. You relax for a moment, letting her roll you onto your back barely breaking apart the kiss.

When she pulls back, she strokes your hot cheek with her thumb — staring into each others eyes. Hers are still beautiful and vibrant even in the feverish blue light, glancing all across your face with concern and fondness etched into her features. “Kay?” she speaks, tapping her thumb to your cheek for a response and you nod, huffing out a breath. Okay. Try to calm down.

She kisses the corner of your mouth, which trails inevitably into the crook of your neck, her swollen lips sucking the slippery skin with a hum. Your fingers are bunched tightly into her shirt and her jeans are still below her ass from your dry humping craze. You take some deep breaths, and she hears you — outwardly appreciating your efforts to be calm. “Thats good, keep doin’ that.” She whispers when you push air out of your mouth shakily, and the praise makes your legs fall open limply.

“You gonna let me help you out, pretty girl?” She kisses the centre of your chest and you mewl, body vibrating with purs as you nod. “Tell me, please. I’ve uh, I’ve waited so long to hear it.” She sounds nervous in the sweetest way possible, making you even in your haze reach out to comfort her, pushing her auburn strands out her face as she looks up at you pleadingly.

“Please help me Ellie, want you to touch me.” Your voice is jumpy from your shudders, and it transfers to her — your eyes just catching the way she trembles a little from adrenaline in the dark.

“Alright baby, I got you.”

Hearing her call you baby like you’d always hoped she would makes you heave out a sigh, pushing your hips up into her body weight trying to relieve yourself somehow. She shushes you, distracted by the feel of you beneath her palms now as she drags them down your body. Her thumbs swipe across your hard nipples through the thin material of your pyjamas and you mewl again, arching into her hands.

“Gonna make you feel better, promise.” She whispers but it feels more like she’s talking about you and not to you so you try to keep quiet so that you can just observe. She’s sliding down the bed ‘til she’s practically half off it, pushing your dress up to press fond kisses to your tummy. It feels right, like it’s something she’s been doing for months despite it being her first time down there. It’s Ellie, your Ellie. You can’t think of anyone you’d be in better hands with.

“Never,” kiss. “Had,” kiss. “Someone down here,” kiss. “Before have you?” She drags her lips downwards this time, gripping the meat of your thighs and spreading them. You sigh out a whimper and shake your head, embarrassed by how needy you were for a flash of a second before getting lost in your lust again. She whispers out an ‘Th’sokay’ against your hipbone as she pushes your thighs open before pulling back — taking a look. Her tongue wets her lips at the sight before her, eyes adjusted into the low light now to see how you’ve completely soaked through your underwear — lips fat and wanting through the material. Ellie let’s out a breath she was unaware to be holding, forefinger stroking through your covered folds with a glance upwards to make sure it was all still okay.

“God damn.” She comments, and you know what she means — she probably didn’t know it was possible to get this wet.

“Take’m off, please.” You whimper, writhing your hips around growing impatient once more and she nods frantically, peeling the cotton down your body making you hide your face in your arm when your centre clings to the fabric.

“So ready, huh.” She whispers, hot breath fanning over your bare cunt now. She breathes out a barely audible chuckle as she strokes the side of her finger across the small curled tuft of pubic hair that sat on your skin.

“Yeah, b—been ready for you Els. Wanted this for so l—ong.” You can’t stop trembling, and perhaps it was your feverish chills or the fact you were so excited to finally have your best friend in the way you’d wanted her.

“Yeah?” She cooes, but she’s barely listening — both thumbs pushing the fat of your lips outward, spreading you for her viewing pleasure. “Been hiding all this from me? But it’s so pretty…”

You sniffle, and she takes that as her sign to dive straight in — tongue flattening against your exposed clit and flicking upwards before dragging her lips down through your quantity of arousal. You moan, barely able to hear yourself through the loud purs emitting from you and buck your hips against her face.

You knew Ellie had experience, from the gutwrenching stories she’d tell you about her escapades with her ex girlfriend Cat (Funnily enough, actually her name — a foreshadowing all things considered.) But you’d figured it was just fooling around behind the barn, or maybe when Joel wasn’t home as the two of them used to share a residence. You didn’t expect her to be so… ravenous. If you knew that the girl sat beside you for so long could eat like this, you might have felt more inclined to approach her for help a little sooner.

The room was filled with obscene sounds, the sound of Ellie’s mouth ministrations which can only be compared to noise that belonged to stirring buttery pasta — mixed with her low moans against you because apparently you tasted that good. This was also mixed with, but not overshadowed by your desperate cries and purs as you pull her head further down into your crotch, panting up against the ceiling praying for release.

You hear yourself cry for “More!” and as if the thought had already sprouted for your best friend, her middle finger immediately pressed in against your hole — applying pressure and massaging that warm spot — a challenge for it not to slip right in given how wet you were for her.

“Can give you more. Lemme in, babe.” She murmurs against you when she finally sinks it in, sucking on your clit as means to get you to loosen up around her — which in hindsight wasn’t her most clear-minded idea as you only clenched harder. Ellie, much to your dismay removes her mouth for a moment to sit up on her elbow a little higher. She blows over your clit, smacking a wet kiss to it before looking up at you seriously — finger frozen only a little way in. Her free hand comes up, wide palm stroking across your lower stomach soothingly. “Gotta relax. Don’t wanna hurt you and you’re tight, babe. Relax.”

This side of Ellie made it difficult to not challenge this by clenching even harder. You could tell there was still an element of nerves to her, not wanting to fuck it up — but it just came so naturally to her to look after you. You push a shaky breath out through your mouth in a small ‘o’ shape, eager to make her proud again like before and focus on unclenching, her thumb on the connecting hand softly stroking your clit up and down to assumably aid you in this. “Good job, that’s it.”

She smiles when she returns her mouth to your folds, absolutely ecstatic to get back in there. You would have giggled at this if you weren’t so worked up, placing all your concentration into keeping loose for her and letting her press her finger up into a delicate spot you hadn’t discovered before. You jerk, briefly clenching again as her gaze snaps up to you— free hand coming back to smooth down your hip and ass, calming you. “C’mon babe, this is gonna get y’there. Help me out here.” She whispers and you try for her again, letting her press up into that toe curling devastating place. The bed rocks with movement, the same feeling you get when you’re half awake in the back of a moving car — and you glance down to realise it’s Ellie, and she’s fucking humping the bed, grunting against your pussy with her nose smushed to your clit. You feel the tears welling, and something turning like cogs in your stomach. Your orgasm approaches, but it’s only at the precipice of your cunt— the ache reaching much deeper and you panic at the idea of being left unsatisfied despite your deep lust, Ellie’s touches only making you ache more.

“Els, Ellie w—wait I’m gonna, let — wait I can’t it’s not — s’not deep enough I need more, need more it’s too —” You’re suddenly crying out, pushing yourself up with a look of absolute devastation on your face which is so sobering that she pulls her fingers out of you completely — pushing her self up at crazy speeds to meet you half way and cup your face.

“Babe, you’re panicking. Just talk to me, tell me what you need I — I can give it to you. Breathe.” She whispers, lips brushing your own as she attempts to comfort you, swiping away the tears leaking down your cheeks still. Your lip curls over, puffing out and wobbling as you suck in a quivering breath.

“More— just need to be… fucked, need you to fuck me, need it deeper.” You wail and she shushes you again, her slender hand coming back down to just cup your cunt in a way that made you dizzy, an attempt for her to comfort you and hold you in a way that you needed. Your eyes squeeze shut and tears moisten your lashes, feeling guilty for asking for such things, unsure if she can really give it to you. You didn’t want her to feel bad.

Ellie bites her lip in thought and tastes you. She did have that one thing… though she hadn’t actually used it before. It was a harness, a thick purple dildo lodged into the centre of it — stashed in a shoebox and shoved under her bed with crimson cheeks and clammy hands. She’d found it on patrol, and figured it could be useful one day maybe — a vision of you taking her with an arched back and her hips slamming against your plush ass making her wince and cup her cunt through her jeans in that very sex store. She had something that could help, and she had to push her pride aside to offer.

“Got something I can fuck you with. It’s… literally for that purpose but uh, it’s back at my place.” When she see’s the way your eyes light up with hope she’s jumping up, yanking her jeans up back around her waist, fumbling to do up her zipper as she continues to stare at you for permission. “I can run, be back in literally five minutes — do you want it babe? I’ll be so fucking fast you won’t even know I’m gone.” She’s not sure who’s begging who anymore, because since handed the opportunity Ellie has become obsessed with the idea of finally getting to fuck you good and proper.

“Yes j—just be fast, Ellie please be fast.” You mewl weakly, dropping back against the bed. She gives you a once over as she stumbles for her shoes, pulling her Converse on at a speed you didn’t think was possible and roughly tying laces. She’s out the door before you know it, leaving you to your own devices.

It feels like hours when she’s gone and you slip further into that dream-like, hazy space you’ve been fighting since she’d laid hands on you. Without her touch, the ache began to settle deep into your centre again — skin on fire and sensitive to the touch. You felt like you were being burned from the inside out without her there, rolling around on your sheets attempting to find comfort and coming up unsuccessful. The arch in your back only opened your cunt wider to the balmy air, and your nipples grew sore quickly from rubbing up against your bedsheet. A bead of sweat rolls between your tits.

Ellie’s feet hurt from the speed her Converse would slap the concrete of Jackson’s town— sprinting her way through the 4AM streets on a mission to bring you the equipment to satisfy your urges. Her heart thunders when she reaches her place, dropping her keys and swearing to herself as she fumbled to get the door open. She doesn’t bother closing it behind her when she runs inside, wood creaking beneath her heavy steps to sliding down on her knees beside her bed, reaching her hand along the dusty floor to find that shoe box. She finds it, muttering a borderline deranged ‘There you are’ before sliding it out, popping it open just to check it’s still there before slamming the lid back on and tucking the box under her arm, heading back to you.

You know she’s back because through your daze you hear the door shut and her loud high-pitched grunt of exertion, the image of her doubling over in your hallway to catch her breath coming to you almost like a prophetic vision. The ache worsens as her footsteps draw closer, her voice strained and out of breath as she calls out to you. “I almost — Fuck, almost ran into Jesse on the way to his early patrol. Saw him and, had to take a detour behind someone’s house cos’ he would have asked what was in the box and like — I can’t just get it out and show him…” Her panted words trail off when she re enters the bedroom, eyes falling on your desperate state once more.

It was a blow to her heart, seeing you so worked up. You were completely naked now in just your collar, brow slick with sweat and body practically glowing. Your tail curls around your thigh self soothingly, ears pointed high and alert. Your back arches painfully as you drag your hands down your thighs. You sniffle, defeated.

“Can’t even touch myself n’make it better cos my claws won’t go back in.” You shake, dragging your hands down your thighs desperately. Your sharp claws catch the delicate skin leaving long thin marks but you don’t even seem to notice. Ellie’s brows furrow and she rushes to you, sitting beside you on the bed and taking your hand in hers, looking at your clawed fingertips.

“Hey, don’t… don’t do that. M’here now. Can look after you yeah? Let me just…” She struggles for the box and pulls out the clattering harness and toy. You’re distracted for a moment as you watch, intrigued by the contraption that she’s pulling up her jeans and fastening at her hips. When she’s done, a purple plastic cock stands proud in the centre of her crotch, and your mouth practically waters.

It was animalistic, truly — and a little embarrassing the way you grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed. She even had the nerve to stumble a little bit, her back bouncing against the sheets as she scrambled to get comfortable and you crawled onto her lap. You press your lips to hers again like she’s your life line, letting out a muffled moan because you missed her. She’d been gone for five minutes and you’d missed her. You knew she’d tease you for that if it were any other time, but this time was like no other. She groans against you too, her hand cupping up to cup the back of your head and hold you there. You couldn’t get enough of eachother, all this waiting was finally paying off.

Your thighs shake around her as you wrap your hand around the dildo, sitting back as you can rub it up and down your slick a few times, collecting it’s juice. Ellie sits up a little, watching with wide eyes. “Jesus. Y’look so fuckin’ pretty.”

Her words send a surge of need through you again and you push the fat tip against your hole, adjusting so you can sit straight down on it. She winces for you, hands hovering above your hips. “Careful you haven’t taken anything bigger than my fingers before it’s gonna—”

You groan, melting into her as you sink down all the way. She’s right, it does hurt — and you’re frozen, laying against her shoulder hiccuping and quietly sobbing at the stretch. It’s way too much, but — it scratches the itch. Dulls the ache inside. You could power through this.

Her voice is gentle when she speaks, hands slowly coming down on your back to rub soothing circles on your clammy skin. “Hey.” She leans back a little, tilting her head trying to get a look at you. “Look at me, baby.”

You do, because how could you not — blinking big wet, eyes at her in the dark. She wipes away some tears with her knuckle, brows frowned and concerned. “You gotta be careful. Okay? I don’t… I’m not going to hurt you. I can’t.” She admits, and it seems to carry more meaning than what she’s letting off in the moment. Your doe eyes well again, fist curling in her wifebeater and then loosening as you try and calm your jerky breaths. She slowly reaches down until the pads of her fingers meet your clit, engorged and pushed out from the way your cunt is stretched open around her. She rubs it in light circles, softly — making you preen into her touch. The pain of the stretch lessens and you can’t help but grind down.

With each grind, you become more frenzied — picking up the pace as you chase the feeling you’d been after. You’re moaning over the sound of your pussy squelching around her and all she can do is grab onto your ass and help you, eyes all over you. “Fffffuck, babe — look at you, takin’ it so well. Who taught you how to fuck like this huh? Thought I was your first?” She chuckles, breathless from your incessant bouncing and grinding.

“You are, Els — m—my first and my only, don’t wanna fuck anyone else ever again.” You whine, so loudly it can probably be heard from outside but who cares — not when she’s got you like this. This worked up and needy for her. It was something from her wildest dreams.

“Yeah? Wanna be my girl?” She grunts, your grinding aiding the harness in hitting her clit just right with each movement. With all this time spent helping you, Ellie hadn’t realised how pent up she was.

“Yes, m’your girl Ellie, m’your girl you — you own me!” You admit, and it seems things go a little quiet at the confession. You clench hard, burrowing into her shoulder as she processes the words. Ellie hears an incoherent ‘More’ again, and her body goes on autopilot — feet sliding up to press flat against the bed. She holds you still, arm across your lower back and pins you to her whilst she fucks up into you fast. She grunts at the feeling, and you cry. With each bounce she forces out of you, your bell collar jingles humiliatingly.

Ellie can’t seem to keep her hands in one place, leaving your back to feel the way your tits jump with each movement caging them under her hands. “Yeah, baby? Like that?” She cooes and feels you nod frantically into her, nothing but mewls and moans able to leave you. You’re gushing over her strap, walls spasming trying to suck her back in each time she draws back — Ellie feels like she can feel it herself.

“Y’own me. M’all yours forever Els.” You babble like you’re trying to keep yourself awake, alive, conscious whilst Ellie fucks up into you like it’s the last chance she’ll ever get.

“Yeah? This all mine, sweet girl?” She cooes, and finally you feel it — the hint of a knot in your stomach, the orgasm you’ve been chasing — one that resides deep inside you, the ache that felt like it could kill you, soon to be soothed by Ellie herself.

“Yes! Yes! Mphm, g’nna cum on your dick!”

Her dick. She’d never thought of it like that before. The words leaving your mouth sparked something in her, and suddenly she was the feral one. Her jaw clenches, strong hands pushing and tugging and rolling you onto your back. You gasp at the feeling of her cock sliding right out to the tip at the jostling, tits bouncing as you lay back on the bed. You looked vulgar and improper and so far from your innocent self, and Ellie couldn’t help but feel that maybe this was all on her. Maybe you wouldn’t have gone into heat if the sexual tension between you wasn’t so strong. What had she done to her sweet best friend?

You stare up at her with doe eyes, and she stares back for a moment — lips parted, jaw squared and eyes dark. This was the Ellie you’d needed.

Her hands slide up the backs of your thighs and push your knees up to your chest, pressing her strap deep inside of you. Her breathing is erratic, hair falling into her face as she thrusts in and out at a punishing pace, the tip of her cock nudging your cervix just right. It’s almost too much to take and you turn your head with a weak mewl, sound punched out of your lungs. She doesn’t let you, grabbing you by the jaw so that fucked out your eyes stayed on her own glossy ones.

“Yeah that’s right, look at me. Stay right here with me.”

“C—can’t.”

“You can. Be good, c’mon, j’st keep taking it, angel.” She moans and your toes curl. Needing her as close as humanely possible, your hand curled around the back of her head tugging her to your lips. You feel her arm pressed between the two of you, giving herself just enough space to toy with your clit as she groaned against your mouth.

You detached, unable to keep up with the kissing as you wrapped your arms around Ellie’s neck — and she was okay with that, focusing on her thrusting to get you where you needed. You squeeze extra hard with a pained mewl, every one of your moans met with a cooed ‘Yeah?’ or ‘That right?’ until you were actually finally cumming.

You’re not aware of yourself when you actually do, feeling like water was being thrown over the fire that was your body all whilst igniting another at the same time. The sounds coming from you were…a lot. Purs and squeals and moans and squelching, nothing left to do but to let Ellie ride it out for you, telling you how good you are for letting go. You hear her wince and it brings you back a little, realising you’d been scraping your fangs along Ellie’s bare shoulder — drawing thick beads of blood.

You pant, and she stares down at you with a clenched jaw as you calm your self, recuperating after that Earth shattering orgasm given by your best f— you couldn’t surely still be calling her that right? After all that?

Your eyes focus, puffy lips smeared slightly with the blood you’d drawn from Ellie’s skin and you heave out a whispered apology, trying to blink back your concentration which was proven difficult with her strap still seated deep inside you the way it was.

“S—orry, got carried away I didn’t mean to.”

She goes to shrug, but the air is then punched out of her lungs as you lean forward a little, looking at her with pensive, wide submissive eyes before flattening your tongue against the wound and cleaning it up. She watches, still not having said a word before she’s gently grabbing your shoulders and pushing you to lay flat again. Her hips shift, a slow experimental grind rolling out from her hips as she watches you. Your brows furrow, jaw gaping at the sensitivity as you grab at her strong arms in a slight panic. She takes your hands and pins them down in a soft and loving way.

“What’you doin’ Els?” You sigh out almost in one breath, and that’s when she leans down and presses soft kisses to your cheek once more, her hair tickling your nose, wanting you to feel the love radiating off her.

“Makin’ sure it’s all out your system. You’ll let me do that, yeah?” She mutters, still breathless and you whine in response with a vicious nod. “Good girl.”

Your thighs, which you hadn’t realised had tightened around her hips loosened and fell open, your tail pushing out from under you to absentmindedly tickle your own skin. Maybe it was for comfort, self soothing you through the pleasurable pain of your overstimulation.

Ellie picked up her pace a little, her movements different from before— long and lengthy rolls of her hips making sure to graze every wall inside of you. “How’s that? That make you feel good?” It’s an earnest and honest question, genuinely wanting to know but you tip your head back, controlling everything in you not to hurt her when you dig her claws into the fat beneath her ass now — trying to pull her deeper inside since she’d let your arms out of her pin.

“Feels so good, Ellie. Y’look after me so well.” You whimper, one hand reaching up to push her hair out of her face and she blinks at you a little off guard— preening at the praise a little. “My strong, clever Ellie. Always doin’ what’s right f’me.” You whine, and it seems the praising is turning the both of you on as her brows knit, lips parting just a little as she grinds harder in a way that rubs her good down below.

“Okay, okay fuck.” She chuckles when she catches herself, which only makes you bite your lip and spread yourself wider for her. The angle hits your gummy insides yet again in a way that you just couldn’t handle and your legs are jerking, eyes squeezing shut as you ride out another soft orgasm — letting her pleasure herself inside of you.

She keeps going, and keeps going, and keeps fucking going until you’re all fucked out — Ellie’s boxers soaked and the strap shiny all over from your releases. The sun is starting to come up through the blinds making Ellie squint tiredly when she rolls you over back on top of her, your thighs splayed either side of her body — plastic dick still burrowed inside of you.

She lets out a sigh of exertion and a gentle ‘Alright’ when she tries to carefully lift her hips, trying to get a good grip on the base of the dildo so she could pull it out of you but you whine, clenching around it selfishly as you smush your cheek against her — fucked out and senseless, already half asleep. “J’st keep it… keep it inside, please. Just for a little while.”

The sentence makes her heart tighten a little and she just nods, letting herself fall back and relax into the soft pillows more, hand opting to instead lazily trail up and down your back until the movements were halting with her journey into sleep— drifting off to the visions of your beautiful face, and the memory of your kisses against her lips.

She’ll ask you out officially tomorrow. For now, she could just enjoy the peace that you brought her.

#ellie williams au #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou2 smut #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x reader #hybridkitty!reader

2K notes · View notes

buckybabesonly · 4 months

Text

Take Me Back To The Night We Met

Summary: He promised you forever and a day.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Cold dinners, unanswered texts and overwhelming disappointment in your heart.

Just a standard Friday night, really.

You sat on the couch with your knees drawn to your chest, eyes fastened on the clock hanging opposite you. It was taunting you with each tick, tick, tick as you clenched your jaw and willed your phone to light up with a message from him.

You should be used to this by now. It happened so often that it would have surprised you more to actually see Bucky arrive home in time for dinner.

You knew it would be like this when you first got together. But after almost four years, it didn't make the disappointment sting any less. You knew he had bigger things to be doing - he was out saving lives and helping people. Yet a tiny, selfish voice in your mind wished that you could be placed as a priority for once. It felt like you spent half your time nowadays just waiting. Waiting for his call, waiting to spend time with him, waiting for something to give.

When the clock reached 11, you sighed and realized that it was going to be one of those nights where he'd stumble in at three in the morning, exhausted, or maybe not at all.

You packed the dinner you had made into a Tupperware box, pasted a sticky note on top with a message for your boyfriend when he returned. Reheat me for 3 mins! Love you ❤

It really was tough. It was one of those nights where you ended up staring at the ceiling of your bedroom in the dark, hot tears seeping silently onto the pillow beneath your head as those unhappy, insecure thoughts reared their head in the usual routine.

It was always this thick silence in the middle of the night that haunted you the most. It allowed you to be truly alone with your thoughts, and you had a lot of them.

You used to be so happy with him. And you still were, in a way. You felt so unbelievably lucky to have Bucky in your life, to be the one that he loved. And yet it was undeniably getting more and more difficult to ignore the problems that came with dating someone who did what he did.

The end to those upsetting thoughts came just as dawn cracked through the Manhattan horizon and you heard those tired, weary footsteps into the apartment, the sound of heavy combat boots being shucked off. Your eyes were closed, but you could visualize the way he silently crept into the room so as not to disturb you. You felt the tension leave your body when he slipped into the sheets beside you, and you instantly curled into his side like a cat.

"Did I wake you?" He asked quietly, his voice hoarse. He still smelt like blood and dirt, but you didn't mind.

"No," you whispered, your fingers grasping fistfuls of his shirt.

The relationship was unconventional and hard work, but you lived for the moments where Bucky came back home to you.

You stood on the snowy sidewalk, staring into the windows of the jewelry store wistfully. Diamond engagement rings stared back at you, glistening in the sunlight, dazzling you with their splendor.

More and more of your friends had been getting to that stage in their lives where they were becoming engaged, getting married, having kids (and some divorces, too). Every other day, it seemed like a new relationship milestone announcement was being made on your Instagram feed.

You were always being grilled by your friends about when Bucky was going to 'pop the question'. Your response was always a demure laugh and a joking retort of, You'll have to ask him!

But honestly, you weren't sure if that was where you were heading anymore.

Your relationship had never been conventional, and you knew what you were getting into when you and Bucky first started your relationship. Bucky didn't have a 9 to 5 job where he could come back home every night and help cook dinner with you and go to bed at the same time, make you breakfast in the morning and walk you to work.

It was never going to be like that.

So what did your future look like?

You trudged home in a slightly downcast mood, paper bags of groceries in your arms as you sighed.

You hadn't seen much of Bucky at all in the last few weeks. He had been out on a mission in Quebec, but he was going to be back tomorrow. A smile suddenly bloomed on your face - he was going to return just in time to celebrate your fourth year anniversary tomorrow.

I wouldn't miss it, my love, he had whispered on the phone to you two nights ago.

There was a new bounce to your step as you continued on to your apartment. You decided that you had to try and stop worrying so much about the future and just be grateful for each day - he was your Bucky, and that was enough.

Bucky was late.

He was supposed to arrive back at the apartment this morning, but he had sent you a couple of text messages at noon, your heart sinking.

Hey - have to stay in Quebec for a couple more hours. But will be heading back very soon.

Your reply was a hopeful, You promise?

Promise.

You remained hopeful even though there had been radio silence since. Bucky had never let you down on celebrating special occasions before - come rain or thunder, you knew he would make it back to you.

Or maybe that's what you used to believe.

You weren't sure what you believed now, as you sat inside the French restaurant opposite an empty chair, your nails tapping the tablecloth anxiously.

You clutched your phone in your hand like a lifeline.

I'm at the restaurant. Are you on your way? You texted him desperately, willing for him to suddenly appear in front of you with a bouquet in his hands and an apology on his lips.

Maybe you just loved torturing yourself. Living on whatever thin strand of hope was thrown your way, like a lifebuoy whilst you struggled to keep your head above the water.

Half an hour passed, the server with a sympathetic gaze coming over after 45 minutes and bringing you a starter and a glass of champagne on the house.

Your cheeks were burning, your chest tightening with such pain that you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Finally, you called it a night and got into a taxi to take you home. Your feet hurt in your stupid heels and your dress felt too tight and uncomfortable, your heart hurting so much that you thought it might burst.

Surprisingly, you managed to hold the tears in. You held them in all the way up until you reached your front door, stabbing your key four times into the lock before you managed to open it, your hands shaking.

You wanted to slam the door back into it's frame as soon as you were in the safety of your home, and gasped when a gloved hand appeared out of nowhere to block it. You stumbled back, almost falling when Bucky materialized in the doorway, his arms holding you to steady you instantly.

"I'm so sorry." They were the first words out of his mouth as he kicked the door shut behind him, holding you close against his body. "I am so, so sorry."

You were quiet, your head unable to process his being in front of you when you had such crushing disappointment inside you from being stood up on your anniversary. Tears were silently running down your face as Bucky's grip tightened around you, your eyes staring at nothing.

You weren't even listening even though he was speaking endless reasons and explanations for why he was so terribly late, why he had been unable to text you back to let you know he wouldn't be able to make it in time. He was out there as usual, saving other people, being there for other people.

Not you.

"Call me selfish," you began eventually, your voice cracking. You peeled yourself away from Bucky, staring up at him with eyes that made his breath hitch. He could see the pain in them, the utter exhaustion in your gaze. "But I just... I wish I had you all to myself."

Bucky's face fell. He knew how you felt, and it destroyed him to see the way you stared at him now. He could feel how limp you were to his touch, and it suddenly scared him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I know I let you down. There was nothing I could do. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

You almost scoffed at that word. Promise.

"That's the thing, Buck," you said sadly, taking another step back. His arms fell down to his sides. "Your promises don't mean anything."

He looked crestfallen at your statement. His lips parted as if he wanted to argue back, but you continued forcefully.

"How many times have you promised me that we'd be able to go on that trip together? How many times have you promised me that we can do a proper date night? How many times have you promised me that you'd be home for dinner?"

Bucky's lips pressed together in a stiff line. You had been angry at him before, of course you had. But what he noticed right now, overwhelmingly so, was that you were tired.

"I'm so... I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"What do you mean?" Bucky spoke then, fear creeping into his voice at your words.

"Look at me, Bucky," you half-laughed, gesturing at yourself. Your mascara was running down your face, you had kicked your heels off on the floor, you felt so ridiculous in this stupid dress that you had meticulously picked out for your special night with him. "I'm so sick of always being let down. I - I don't know how we can have a future together. I don't want to spend four more years not knowing whether I can expect to see you come home."

"We have a future together," Bucky retorted, his eyebrows furrowing. "I can't see a future where you don't exist."

"Can't you?" You shot back, honestly bewildered. "Do you really imagine us having a normal life together? Can you imagine us being married, having kids, settled down in a home that you're not always running away from?"

"Do you think I enjoy doing what I do?" Bucky asked, a flash of anger entering his tone.

"Actually, yes, I do!" You exclaimed truthfully. "You're hard-wired to fight and protect, Bucky. You need to help people. It's what you do."

Bucky was immediately quiet. You had hit the nail on the head. Fight and protect.

"I've barely seen you this year, Bucky. You've spent so much time out there on missions and saving the world and - and that's great, Bucky. Really, I am so proud of you. But you have to understand that I have things that I want and I'm not sure you can give that to me."

You felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. This was really how you truly felt. The dam had broken, and you had finally told him what you had been thinking.

You loved Bucky with all your heart. You loved him so much that the thought of losing him was excruciating.

But you couldn't run away from reality. You didn't think you could live the rest of your relationship like this.

"Do you think you could change?" You whispered, your eyes welling up again with tears. "Could you give up being a hero and stay by my side instead?"

Bucky's hands were clenched into fists by his sides as he stared at you. You couldn't decipher his expression, and you wished so much you could climb inside his mind and know what he was thinking.

"I love you," he said eventually. Your heart splintered with longing.

"That doesn't answer my question," you said sadly.

There was a long stretch of silence that filled the apartment. Eventually, he spoke.

"I don't know if I can change. I - this is what I do. I have to help people. There are people who need me."

What about me? You wanted to ask.

You nodded once.

"I love you," he repeated again, pleading.

"I love you too," you said, your lower lip trembling. "I love you so much."

Bucky had brought you so much joy. Every stolen second with him, every smile shared, every memory was a blessing. He was everything you had ever dreamed of and somehow even more.

But it wasn't enough.

"I know what I want, Bucky." Your voice was shaking. "Once upon a time, I really thought that we could have that. But the longer I spend in this relationship, the more I realize that those thoughts are futile. I'm chasing something that I will never have."

Bucky wanted to fall onto his knees and beg for you to stay. He really did - he wanted to hold your hands in his and beg you not to leave him. That he didn't know how he could live his days without you.

But he knew what you deserved. You deserved someone reliable, someone you wouldn't have to wait on. In front of his very eyes in this moment, he could see the product of his neglectfulness towards you. He could see the agony in your face, the weight of the disappointment he'd caused in every tear track on your skin. The epiphany hit him like a crushing weight to the chest.

If there was one thing Bucky always wanted to give you, it was happiness. He wanted to make you as happy as your existence in his life brought to him.

Maybe, in a twisted paradox, he would have to let go of his to be able to give you yours.

If Bucky could go back to the night you first met, he would have stared at you from afar, traced your profile with his eyes, admired the gentle curve of your nose and the color of your lips. He would have felt his heart still the moment you turned and met his stare with a shy smile.

But instead of approaching you and introducing himself, he would have forced himself to walk away if he had known the pain he would bring to you.

If you could go back to the night you first met, you wouldn't have believed the love that would grow in your heart for this man. The impossibly potent feeling that was larger than life itself.

You used to believe that your love for one another could overcome anything.

You realized that wasn't true on that very night, when Bucky left your home and you remained standing in the darkness, alone once more.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky angst #sebastian stan #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns imagine #bucky #bucky barns x you #marvel fanfics

449 notes · View notes

junipers-archive · 1 year

Text

Meeting The Parent

Word Count: 1k

Includes: Fluff, fluff, meeting Spencers mom in person for the first time!! (short sweet and hints toward marriage at the end :)

It had taken a lot of convincing, and maybe some reassurance on both of your parts, but you'd gotten Spencer to allow you on one of his less-than-often visits to his mom. You'd made the arrangements to take the small road trip with him this weekend and were prepared for the very worst or the very best outcome of the visit.

As of current you were awaitng the 'signal' Spencer had told you he'd give once he explained to his mom that you were here with him. You understood of course how very cautious he was to let people meet her and how protective he was about those he loved.

Hell, you were one of those people, and you loved being one.

Once you got tired of shifting your wait from foot to foot akwardly however, and as nurses passed you by, you decided to move closer to at least look like you were trying to find someone. Instead you got a few cut words from their conversation. His mom's voice being the first heard,

"You're dating her?"

"y-yea mom I'm dating her" he sounded dissapointed.

"why didn't you tell me?! You know you can tell me anything Spencer!" panic rose in you then, you'd been dating for quite substantial amount of time now, why hadn't he even mentioned it?

"I did tell you, you just forgot- Will-Will you just speak to her? Shes here with me, y/n?"

That was your cue, and no one had to know how fast you'd scrambled to meet them in the corner of the nursing home where they sat or how you attempted to slow your pace and heart as you got closer.

"Spencer go get me some water" Her voice wasn't completely monotone but it wasn't cheerful either, reminiscent of a protective mother more like.

"A nurse can get you water-"

"You're my son" She looked to him then "please, get me some water."

Spencer looked between the two of you then and you wondered whether or not he was asking permission from you or her about how to handle this situation. Nevertheless he gave an apologetic smile to you and waded off to find a nurse and get some water.

Thats when you started talking to her.

"Do you love him?" okay so no small talk.

"We love each other." you reply as smoothly as possible earning a nod of approval from her.

"He's special, my Spencer, very special. " At this point shes not even looking at you but has taken to staring wistfully out the window nearby instead. A golden shadow is lighting up the room as the sun sets and you take a seat across from her.

"He is." you agree, following her gaze mainly just to distract yourself.

"How long have you been together?" she looks down to figit with her fingers "I-uh- he talks alot about you and he probably has already told me but-"

"Almost a year in a few weeks."you smile to yourself then thinking of how happy you are to be with him at all.

"So you know him...you really know him don't you?"

"I like to think I do"

"Favorite movie." Its more of a command then a question, and you realize she's commanding you to tell her his favorite movie.

But you could play this game. You could play it all day.

"Le cercle Rouge (1970) but, if we're talking more movie night picking Spence i'd say The Godfather Part II (1974)."

She smiles slightly at this. "Book."

"The illustrated Man by Bradbury is one of his favorites but he's never been able to choose between that or The Narrative Of John Smith by Doyle."

She doesn't even flinch. "Play."

You sigh at that one, knowing she won't stop till he's back, or maybe not even then. "Well..."

You swear it takes him ages to get water and by the time he's back you're seated across from her taking most of her questions in stride. But its the last question right before he gets back that catches you slightly off-guard.

"Do you think you could love him more than I do?"

"I already do." your voice is even, and you're being completely honest with both yourself and her but your own reply surprises you and all it does for her is earn a scoff.

"Impossible" she's staring right at you now, smiling.

You smile back, "I beg to differ." And now he's back.

The subject changes drastically as Spencer asks her questions about how she's being treated, like the perfect son he is. But besides that you talk about the BAU and some of the recent cases, she surprises you when she's able to follow his brain's trace of mind better than most, perhaps better than you.

But after about an hour or two the conversation comes to a lull.

When you're both ready to leave you smile politely and say goodbye, leaving Spencer to say his goodbyes in private.

And despite your better judgement you need to hear what she thought, you need to know if you're good enough for him. So you go behind the same wall you'd been hiding behind in the beginning of the visit and listen, pretending to be on your phone.

"I-It was really nice seeing you, i'll come back tomorrow morning before we leave-"

"Y/n."

He clears his throat then, "yea, uh what-what about her?"

"You better marry that girl Spencer, and you better do it before I die-"

His voice goes up an octave,"Mom stop you're healthy-"

"I'm just saying, she's perfect for you and if you don't marry her before I uh...kick the bucket, I will haunt you for eternity!"

They both laugh then and you can hear the smile in his voice as he replies "Don't worry I wouldn't dream of letting her go."

And despite yourself, once more better judgement, you begin to grin as you head to the car and once you see Spencer in sight start to hint towards how fond you are of marriage.

2K notes · View notes

storydays · 2 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel: Episode 1 p1

Overture

@avatar_lover

(3rd POV)

"Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven.

For they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So he watched as the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Adam demanded control and Lilith refused.

Drawn in by her fierce independence, Lucifer found her and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the fruit of knowledge to Adam’s new bride, Eve, who gladly accepted.

But this gift came with a curse.

For with this single gift, evil finally found its way to Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin, and the order Heaven worked hard to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his love into the dark pit he created, never allowing him to see the good that came from Humanity, only the cruel and the wicked.

Ashamed, Lucifer lost his will to dream.

But Lilith thrived, empowering a demon-kind with her voice and her songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision, that every year, they would send down an army: an extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them.

But Lilth’s hope remained. And her dream was passed down to their precious children, the Prince and Princess of Hell.”

A pale hand closed the story book, as a young woman held a key close to her, looking downcast. “Don’t worry Mom, I’ll make you proud.” She whispered, gazing out the window, listening to the screams outside.

“Charlie?” a voice called startling the young woman. “Augh!” she yelped, as her key turned into a cat, who ran away to hide. Charlie winced before turning to the other woman, “Vaggie! Did you hear all that?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. I was standing right there.” smiled the woman, pointing at the door. “Sorry, I get pretty worked up after an extermination happens. The story helps.” Charlie frowned, staring at the book. “I know, don’t worry. I enjoy your theatrics. Are you okay?” Vaggie asked, sitting next to the blonde demoness. “I’m fine, just–ya know thinking about family stuff.” “DId you hear your from your mom yet?” Charlie shook her head sadly.

“Oof, how long has it been now?”

“Not that long…only…..seven….years. Off doing something important, I’m sure.” Together the women stood up, to look outside the window. “But this kingdom was something she really cared about; something I care about.” Charlie hugged herself, smiling wistfully.

“Well, at least you’re not alone.” Vaggie soothed, holding Charlie’s hands.”I just hope that what I’m trying to do here will work.” Charlie admitted. “It will. I have faith in you.” the white haired woman smiled, cupping Charlie’s cheek.

“All right, come on. Alastor says he’s got something he wants to show us.” Vaggie walked out of the room, Charlie going to follow her, before hearing the church bell ring outside. She turned to look out at the clock as it rang, signaling the end of the extermination. Charlie sighed before heading downstairs.

*Downstairs*

“Well, hello there, you wayward sinner!” A cheery voice, on the television, called out to a demon currently stabbing another on the street, making the two look around confusedly. “Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do, that’s why you’re in Hell! But what would you say if there was a place that had none of that?” questioned the voice as more sinners popped up, varying emotions from annoyance to confusion. The camera then zoomed to reveal the hotel.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! A misguided path to redemption!” the camera then pushed into Charlie’s personal space as she was mid conversation, before she noticed the camera and she smiled and waved nervously. A spider demon appeared behind her, using all four of his hands to give the demoness bunny ears behind her head and on the side. “Founded 5 days ago by Lucifer’s delusional daughter, Charlotte Morningstar! Come place your faith in her inexperienced hands as she tries to work through her daddy issues by fixing you!”

The television showed a picture of Lucifer facing away from Charile as she hugged herself, tears in her eyes. Then it showed Charlie attempting to convince sinners to join.

“Here we offer fun things! Such as somewhat functional staff.” The camera showed a grumpy cat demon who was clearly drunk as he face planted into the bar. A little cyclops woman scurried around him, chasing a bug with a giant needle in her arm, with a maniacal grin on her face, as she attempted to stab the bug.

“24 hour pest control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor!” The camera panned out to show a piece of wood falling near the spider demon from earlier who was lounging on a couch, clearly bored as he examined his finger nails. “Enjoy riveting conversation with our singular resident.”

The spider sent the camera a middle finger, making an effect of the word Wow appear on screen, changing to show a crudely drawing of the hotel with different notes and smiley faces with a large toothy grin. “Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel. Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here!” On the screen, appeared: “Call now or don’t! I don’t care! We still don’t have a working phone!”

The TV shut off as the audience in the room sat around, emotions varying from anger, shock, and disbelief. “So, what’d ya think?”asked a grinning deer demon, dressed head to toe in red and black.

“I’m sorry, what the FUCK was that?” scowled Vaggie, arms crossed. “Uh, yeah, one note. Alastor…” Charlie started, ignoring how the demon’s smile tightened. “I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this, seriously, amazing, but um..” Charlie played with her fingers as she tried to explain her thoughts, “The tone was maybe a bit..off?” Alastor tilted his head as she continued.

“We want people to WANT to come here. This makes it look–um..” “Bad. The word you’re looking for is bad.” Vaggie snarled, crossing her arms.

“Funny, I was going for hilarious!” Alastor laughed. “It didn’t explain anything about how we’re trying to save demons, which is the whole fucking point!”

“Vaggie is right, Alastor. The commercial was to let sinners know we are trying to save them.” called a smooth voice from another armchair. The male was sitting on the chair, his legs over the arm of the chair, and the cat from earlier purring in his arms, as he stroked her back. This was the Prince of Hell, Heir to the Throne, and Charlie’s big brother, (Y/N).

“Well, my dear (Y/N), I haven’t been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show. The proper way to express oneself!” Alastor turned to the TV with a clear disdain written over his ever grinning face.

“But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement. So I had a little fun with it.” “Oh fun, you had a little fun?” Vaggie snapped, before standing. “Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here, a week ago, you told us you would help run this hotel. Instead, you’re mocking us. Nobody’s going to want to come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.” Vaggie hissed before the 4 noticed a red hand waving in the air.

“What?” snapped Vaggie as (Y/N) started to walk towards the bar.

“If’n you’re filimin’ a commercial, can I suggest you take advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” The spider demon from earlier, sat up lazily, grabbing the bottle of alcohol with him, and winked at the people, gesturing to himself.

“Angel, you’re a porn star.” Vaggie deadpanned.

“A famous porn star.” Corrected Angel, as (Y/N) came back and sat next to the spider, with a strawberry Daiquiri in his hand.

“I’ll have the horniest sinners knockin’ down these walls to get in.” The white furred spider grinned smugly, before swinging his legs over (Y/N)’s lap, clearly comfortable. “We are not shooting a porn as a commerical.” Vaggie said firmly.

“Why not? Sex sells, don’t it?” Angel winked. “I swear, if you film me going at it with Sexy Princey or Mr FancyTalk Creep Voice here, you’d be rollin’ in participants to stay at this tacky hotel.”. Alastor laughed loudly before deadpanning. “Haha! Never going to happen.”

The bespectacled prince cleared his throat nervously, cheeks a slight red as he tried to compose himself. “A-Angel, we appreciate you wanting to use your ‘special skills’ to, um, attract folks to the hotel. But I–WE, meant to say WE don’t want to exploit you in that way.”

(Y/N) smiled at the spider demon who grinned, leaning into the prince’s space, close to his ear, and purred, “But what if I want you to exploit me……..Daddy?” “HAHA! OKAY!”

(Y/N) yelped, before using his wings to quickly fly up and over by the bar, startling Angel who then smirked knowingly at the demon.

Turning towards the girls, Angel continued to talk, “This body was made to be exploited, baby. I’ve got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity. Oh, oh! I have the legs, the gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff everyone thinks are tits..” Charlie laughed uncomfortably as Angel continued talking.

(Y/N)’s phone started ringing, making the prince roll his eyes and walk away, answering his phone. “I’ll be right back.”

He turned the corner, and grinned deviously as he answered the phone, “What up, bitch!”

*Back with the others*

“Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can’t he just make people stay here?” Angel asked suddenly, pointing at Alastor.

“Oh trust me, I can.” Alastor grinned darkly, briefly showing his horns.

“Why do you think I’m here?” A gruff voice called from the bar, making everyone turn to the bar, towards the grumpy cat from earlier.

“You think I’d be cleaning bottles and listen to you fucks’ bitch and moan, if he wasn’t forcing me.” The bartender hissed as the little cyclops appeared next to him, grinning.

“I like being forced.” She giggled.

“Keep that to yourself, Niff.” grimaced the cat demon.

“What, you don’t love being here with me, Whiskers?” Angel mocked, making a kissy face.

“Call me whiskers again, and I’ll jam that bottle down your throat.” the cat threatened.

“Kinky! C’mon, keep talking dirty.” grinned Angel, narrowing his eyes at the cat.

“Angel, let Husk do his job. And no, we can’t force people to stay here; they need to choose to.” Vaggie stated.

“I’m choosing to be here, and I think it’s all stupid. We’re in Hell, toots.” Angel shrugged, “That’s kind of the end of the line, ain’t it?”

“Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be.” Charlie smiled. “Just because no one’s ever made it out, doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”

Angel placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder as he leaned down to her height. “Hey, whatever means I can keep crashing here rent free.” The women shot him a deadpanned look, and he scowled. “Crack is expensive.”

(Y/N) quickly came and grabbed Charlie by the arm, grinning excitedly. “Char, come with me!” Charlie yelped as her brother pulled her around the corner.

“Woah, (Y/N), what’s going on?”

“So the leader of the Angel Army wants to meet…and I managed to convince Dad to let me send you to talk to them instead.”

Charlie tilted her head. “Why me? You usually take care of stuff like that.”

“Because, Char, you are the princess of Hell,and I think you’re old enough to start partaking in stuff like this. And.. you can use this as an opportunity to try to convince Heaven to give your Hotel a chance. “ (Y/N) prompted.

“Ooh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Charlie hugged her brother before rushing to tell Vaggie. (Y/N) going to lean on the couch, as Vaggie questioned Charlie. “But the extermination just happened. What could they want this soon after?”

Charlie started singing and twirled Vaggie who replied dizzily, “Okay but just don’t sing to them.”

“That bitch is half way down the street.” (Y/N) and Angel laughed, with the others looking out the door, watching the princess sing.

“Is she–?” Vaggie asked, worriedly.

“Oh, she’s dancin’.” Angel tossed his head back, drinking the bottle in his hands, ignoring Vaggie’s groan.

youtube

#Spotify #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #viziepop #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin niffty

223 notes · View notes

goodday-goodmorn · 4 months

Text

Rahhhh it’s Christmas and i’m back! Today’s feature (feature? Should i start calling them that? Sounds kinda cool-) is the amazing @charliemwrites, specifically a little drabble (unedited as always), based off of their Keeper/Kept AU. Not thier most recent stuff- (I think it’s Neighbor Johnny or the Woof Woof series-) You know what? Just- Here. Everything they write is gold <3

Anyhow, i present: Domesticity and Devotion

“Oh to be a wild bird…”

You sigh, chin in your palm as you leisurely stare out at the window.

“Or a stray cat.” You muse, watching as one of the kitties of the neighborhood walks along outside.

“Those fuckers have it good. No shitty job. No rent to pay. Just free pets and wandering the world… and if someone’s being a dick they can hiss and bite all they want.”

You hum, reaching for your drink and sipping on it leisurely.

“I don’t think I could survive in the wild though.”

You say after a moment, realizing how you’re cuddled up in your blanket and sipping on your wendy’s lemonade, the TV playing some random comfort show and your laptop open as you halfheartedly play Papa's freezeria.

“Can barley survive in domesticity.” You mumble, glancing towards the envelope on the kitchen counter that you got this morning about a rent increase.

You sigh.

“Maybe in my next life i’ll be lucky enough to be reborn as some rich white ladies cat. Those fuckers are livin’ better than me that’s for sure.”

————

This is not what you meant.

When you wistfully wished to never have to step foot into the capitalist hellscape that was life again- that was not an open invitation for you to be whisked away against your will.

Apparently though, the 6 foot giant of a military man named Simion Riley, heard it as one.

Because now here you were, pampered and cared for like a bloody sugar baby or pure breed persian cat. Kept at some random location and fed and groomed and meticulously attended too.

All against your will, mind you.

However it’s hard to complain because well- you’re living life good. This realization, of just how good you have it- hits you when you feel yourself getting genuinely angry at the shitty romance novel you were reading.

The Male lead was treating the MC like shit- and the MC was letting him get away with it!

You feel your face physically grimace. To calm yourself down (because you are getting genuinely heated when she lets him shove her to the damn floor over asking him for a drink-), you set your i-pad down.

(It had been a gift; something sort of like a kindle, where you could only read books and listen to music. You weren’t sure what Simon did to it exactly- but it wasn’t just published books you had access too, comics, original works, poetry, you could get all sorts of reading stuff on here.)

“This mother fucker-“

You mumble to yourself in disbelief, shaking your head before huffing and picking the device back up. You’re close to cheering as you read the MC’s internal dialogue about wanting to bite his ass- (Truely an MC after your own heart- they were one of the main reasons you were still reading this shitshow-)

And yet, what does the main character do?

They get the drink for themselves and then let him snatch it from their hand and down it.

Nope. You’re fucking done. You’re fumin’ now, irrationally angry on the MC’s behalf because they’ve been putting up with this guy for fifteen chapters now.

The audacity of men- oh my god. You can’t believe this guy.

“Who does he think he is?!”

You grumble and then just for your own purposes you yell—

“Simon!”

Predictably he is at your side in a moment, dropping everything for you.

You have your arms crossed, as you say, “Go get me a drink.”

He tilts his head slightly, eyes crinkled just a tad at your strange mood but doesn’t deny the order. Simply asks,

“Cold or hot?”

“Cold.”

And with that he’s gone, returning with a fresh glass of ice cold lemonade, complete with a little lemon slice on the rim of the glass. You sip it, set it aside and cross your leg, tapping your forehead.

“Give me a kiss.”

He doesn’t hesitate for a moment, gently kissing your forehead.

“Kneel.”

His eyes are crinkled now with a bit of amusement, but he drops to his knees easy. Gently holding onto your soft thighs. (Always so gentle with you.)

“Course, pretty.”

He mumbles low, head tilted up to you in a question, “Need me to take care of you?”

You hum, absentmindedly messing with his hair and ignoring the way the question sends a slow pool of warmth into your tummy.

“No.”

It’s decisive. You’re practically preening with satisfaction at his actions.

“You can go now.” You say and like that, he gets up. Not a complaint on his lips even when you notice he’s got a raging boner.

“Wait!”

You call and he pauses, looking at you with a questioning hum.

“Kiss me again.”

And he does so, this time a soft gentle kiss on your lips. When he pulls away he mumbles an ever softer-

“Dinner will be ready in 10.”

You nod and pick up your tablet with satisfaction curling low in your gut. (For the duration of your reading all you can think about is how Simion would never.)

————

“And another thing-!”

Simion is absentmindedly (as absentmindedly as Simion of all people can get anyway-) rubbing circles into your back as you rant. You’re sat in his lap, coaxed into sitting there after he asked about your day.

So obviously you started to babble about the book you were reading, which turned into a whole rant session about how stupid the Male lead was.

“That stupid idiot- that moron- you wanna know what he does simion?”

He knows it’s a rhetorical question. You’re gonna tell him anyway. Still he hums to show he’s still listening.

“This bastard shoves them into the ground. To the ground! Can you believe the it?”

He shakes his head lightly with a tsk.

“Exactly. God and then when they get the drink he has the audacity to snatch it from their hand and down it in one gulp before they can even say anything.”

You shake your head, so far into your little rant you don’t realize how much you’ve made yourself comfortable. Sitting in his lap fully, ranting to him like he’s an old friend. Your tongue is loose with comfort right now. And that must be what possessed you to say—

“Me personally? I could never. If you ever pulled that shit— God i don’t even know what i’d do but it would not be pretty

You close your eyes with a nod to yourself at your own words. Not aware of the way Simon’s eyes seem to soften. Not until he gently kisses the top of your head.

“Never.”

He says it so quietly you almost miss it. (Feverintly. Reverently. Like the very idea is absurd.)

“If i ever do something like that you run and break into my gun cabinet and bloody shoot me.”

And god his voice- he’s 100 percent fucking serious. Suddenly you feel warm and small in his lap, utterly tiny compared to the sheer size of his devotion for you.

It’s all you can do to mumble out a weak.

“Good.”

And the rest of the night is spent with you reading the rest of the book together. When the MC finally is able to get rid of the Male Lead, it is a joyous occasion that ends up with her absolutely clocking the guy in the face with a champagne glass. Which then leads into a curious conversation with you and ghost about how much damage that would actually do.

It’s a good day.

#fanfic #cod fanfic #fanfic of a fanfic #(?) kinda #reader insert #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #Look at Charlie’s blog right now.#Specifically obsessive Johnny because when i tell you i was-#GAGED #Jaw dropped #Charlie’s got such good characterization #In the case she sees this-#…did you like it?#also hello

187 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months

Note

what if peaches (unexpected) had already been pregnant from colin by the time lloyd met her?

Unkind

Note: this got out of hand.

Warnings: Lloyd being a jerk yet again, mentions of cheating, pregnancy, bodyshaming.

Please provide thoughts and feedback! I had fun doing this and hope to do some more in response to your guys' asks! Thank you for all your support. 💜

You stare through the glass, so clean and clear, it’s as if it’s even there. You wistfully admire the fine leather and silver, the gleaming watch faces with their ticking slender arms. Sparkling, shining, expensive. Too expensive for you.

That would be most things these days. With a baby on the way. You can’t afford luxuries. You can’t even save up and surprise Colin. That one. The silver and blue. That’s the one you would get him, if only.

Your vision shifts and you see your reflection across from you. Your bloated cheeks, your tired eyes, the tiny bump peeking out from your unzipped jacket. No, you’re not here to buy a gift for your husband, just to exchange his new shoes for the right size.

A shadow darkens through the window of the jewelry shop and your sight pinpoints on the man inside. He looks up from the watches with a smirk. Slicked hair, a rather bold choice of facial hair, and bold blue eyes. They fall down to your stomach as the muscles in his cheeks tense. He gives half a smirk.

You frown and back away. Strange. You wouldn’t call it a look, more a leer. You feel your phone buzzing and reach into your pocket. You fish out your phone as you waddle away. You’re not that pregnant, not yet, but there’s no hiding it now.

You answer and suppress a groan. Your back is killing you. It doesn’t get better, just less or more agonizing.

“Hey,” Colin meets your blunt greeting, “so sorry, babe, I’m caught up at the office today. Looks like another late night.”

“Really?” You sigh in disappointment, “I was hoping… I was going to cook you dinner before I went to work.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he insists, “really. You should try to relax.”

“You’re right, I guess,” you find one of the long pleather sofas they have along the wide walkways of the mall and sit. The stiff cushions aren’t meant for comfort. “I just gotta exchange your shoes,” you set the bag beside you and reach to rub your lower back, “and uh, go home, I guess. I’ll leave dinner in the oven.”

“Ah, don’t worry about me. I’ll probably just order in here.”

You nod as you teeth your lip anxiously. A figure sits further down the sofa and you do your best to ignore it.

“Uh, yeah, alright,” you mutter, “love ya.”

“You too, babe,” he replies.

The call ends. You look at your phone glumly before tucking it away. You go to grab the back but it crinkles as the stranger beside you pulls it open to peek inside. You turn to sneer at him and snatch it up by the handles.

“Hey,” you snip.

“Nice shoes. Bit big for a newborn,” he muses. It’s the same man, from the shop window.

You shake your head and slide to the edge, standing with some effort and a grunt. You don’t need to engage with this weirdo.

“You’re out here buying the baby daddy new shoes while he’s stuck at the office fucking his secretary, huh?”

You scoff and roll your eyes, “excuse me?”

“Ah,” he slaps his thighs before he stands, “I read somewhere that the most likely time for a husband to cheat is during the pregnancy. You see, you got all these changes going on. You get moody, you get whiny, and your ass gets fat.” He leans to the side and eyes your butt, “fatter.”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust and try to sidestep him. What a fucking creep. You didn’t ask and you don’t want to hear it.

“I say you take those shoes back and treat yourself to something nice down at the jeweler. I’d suggest a pearl necklace,” he snickers as he blocks your path, “you got a great neck for it, toots.”

“Get out of my way.”

“Look, the truth is hard. It hurts. It pisses you off. I heard your phone call, doll face, he’s not staying late at the office. Trust me.”

“I don’t fucking know you.”

“Oooh, and with a mouth like that, how is he not absolutely obsessed?” His voice grits in a way that makes you shudder.

“I didn’t ask and I don’t care,” you rebuff, “now excuse me.”

You elbow past him and he lets you. You realise, if he wanted to, he could easily corner you there. Especially since you can’t move very fast.

“Think about it. You know, I’d even buy you diamonds for a good blow job,” he taunts, “you got a pretty mouth.”

“Yeah, and you got a big one,” you toss back over your shoulder as you hurry away, lowering your voice to mumble beyond his comprehension, “jerk.”

💎

You get the right size of shoes after waiting nearly forty minutes in line and at the till as they searched the backroom. You check the new receipt and nearly blanch. Wow, that’s a lot for shoes. Only last weak, Colin reamed you out on how much you spent for the good toilet paper. Well, you suppose they’re a necessity for work. He just got that big promotion.

You take the new pair and head out. You search for a sign and find the bathrooms just past the food court. With the pressure off your bladder, you come back out and resist the temptation of the Cinnabon that greets you. You set off on your escape from the materialistic maze and ignore the jewelry shop as you pass it a second time.

You come out to the parking lot and deflate as you remember how far you had to park. God, your back is fucked. You need to lay down. You don’t know how you’re going to make it through work.

You head down the row and find your beat up car. You open the back door and put the bag on the floor. You swing the door shut and open the driver’s, turning to sit sideways on the seat as you wheeze and cry out. The twinge in your back as you shaking as you grip the interior.

Fuck!

You huff through the pain and steel yourself. You can make it home. Then you can relax and save your energy for work. You can’t call in again. Colin will flip.

“So,” a voice startles you before you can turn in the seat, “what do you think?”

The man with the mustache appears again, stepping out from behind the nearby SUV. He pulls a string of diamonds out of his sleeves and lets them dangle. He wiggles the necklace and gives a wink.

“You deserve something pretty… and I deserve my dick sucked,” he cackles, “you know, you could even pawn it so you have money for diapers.”

“Ew,” you twist in the seat and hold back another groan, “not interested, weirdo.”

“Come on, when’s the last time he fucked you?”

“Get out of here,” you reach for the door.

“No, I’m serious. Those funbags are already fucking huge and they’re only going to get bigger. He should be motorboating them like he’s on the goddamn lake–”

“Stop,” you go to pull the door open but he’s quick to strut forward and grab the top, holding it open. “Hey, let go, you fucking–”

“I’m offering you what you’re not getting anywhere else.”

“Speak for yourself,” you sniff. Things have been tense but they’ll get better. Besides, you don’t know this man. You don’t care what he thinks.

“Ah, well, how about I buy you dinner first. You must be starving and I can play the gentleman–”

“Not interested–”

“It’s a good deal–”

“You’re a fucking creep,” you snap and wrench on the door.

Caught off guard, his arms slackens and you manage to pinch his fingers in the door. He yelps and recoils as you let the door open just slightly and slam it once he rescinds his hand. He shakes out his fingers as he bends and growls.

You hit the locks and shove your keys into the ignition. He stands straight, clutching the diamonds and his injured hands as his eyes blaze in your direction. You shift into gear and grip the wheel, foot hovering over the pedal.

“Oh, this isn’t over, sweet cheeks,” his voice is muffled through the window, “you wait. You’ll be begging for this when you catch that fuckboy with shooting his swimmers into another slut’s pool–”

You stomp on the gas and veer out of the spot. You tremble as your ears ring and your eyes water. He’s wrong. He doesn’t know you. Or Colin.

Maybe you could still surprise Colin. Maybe you can bring dinner to him. Eat with him at the office before you go off for your shift. Just like when he first started there. Maybe it will remind him of how things used to be, not what they’ve come to.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #what if #unexpected #unsolicited #au #the gray man

352 notes · View notes

lou-struck · 2 years

Text

Winning Streak

Katskui Bakugou x reader Part 1

College! AU

~You have hidden your crush on Katsuki Bakugou for a while now, but when he shows up at your door wearing nothing but a pizza box everything changes.

Warnings- swearing, nudity, but everything important is covered, the reader being a bit flustered by it, Football Player Katsuki, eavesdropping.

The dorms at your University are always quiet on a Friday Night, the carpeted hallways abandoned for the bright lights of the football field. Checking your social media you can see that all your friends are there watching your university's Football Team try to conquer their enemies and secure themselves a spot in this season's playoffs.

Usually, you would be right there with them cheering on your team and staring wistfully at the helmeted head of Katsuki Bakugou, the star running back with an explosive temper.

You've had a few classes with the Blond and he lives on the floor below you with all of the other football players, they are a loud group but they never fail to put a smile on your face when you pass them by or run into one of them in the kitchen. Everyone is friendly except Bakugou, you barely see him out and about and he doesn't really socialize with those outside of his team.

But he does seem to tolerate you more than others. If you are in the common area working on homework he sometimes will join you at your table to do his own work, The two of you would sit there for hours without saying a word to each other. until he finishes his assignment and leaves.

The encounters are strange but you can't seem to shake the crush that you have on him at all, something about this insanely smart, grumpy man who sits with you has made a home in your heart has persuaded you to stand out in the cold rain to watch him run into endzone after endzone. Tonight would be no exception.

But you sadly have other things to do...

It's supposed to be one of the biggest games of the year and the after-parties are supposed to be legendary.

Looking down at your unfinished essay with a sigh you think about all the fun your friends will be having tonight while you stay home collecting dust over your notebook. Through your open window, the lights of the stadium shine in the distance able to be seen and the cheers of the crowd reach your ears through the glass to signal the start of the game.

You erase the first few words you had written down before with a groan, it's going to be a long night.

Your phone has been flung onto your bed for your own sake, you kept wanting to check the score of the game whenever you heard an increase in the steady volume of cheering from outside. By the time the cheering has stopped and the game is over you are nearly down with your paper. The muscles in your hand seize and ache and your pencil sharpener is full of fresh shavings from how many times you have had to happen your utensil.

The full sharpener and multiple completed pages scream at you to take a break and so you do. Your legs feel stiff as you get up out of your seat and walk to where you chucked your phone.

Right away you can see all of the celebratory videos your friends have posted from within the mob of celebrating students and players.

'They won,' you say to yourself with a smile as you hear a commotion coming from the outside. Curiously you peek and see the dyed head of Eijiroru Kirishima getting out of his car leading a pack of sweaty but energetic Football players. Katsuki gets out from the passenger seat behind them.

You know it's impolite to eavesdrop but you can't help it, cracking open your window just a bit you are able to listen to their conversation.

"Bakubro, are you sure you don't want to go with us to the party?" Kirishima says yelling back to his Bestfriend.

The blond shakes his head "Nah, that shits gonna be lame. I have better things to do than to Drink with a bunch of freshmen."

The other players make it into the building but Kiri walks back and slings an arm around Bakugou...Lucky Bastard.

"Are you sure you don't wanna go? They might be there." He says with a grin that blinds you from where you are standing.

Bakugou thrashes his arms and tries to wiggle out of Kirishima's Grasp, "what the hell shitty hair?" he yells before quieting down a bit and turning his head as if he is nervous about someone hearing him. "I never should've told you that."

"ha, you really shouldn't of." he teases. "So are you going?"

"No Shuttdup," Katsuki grumbles walking out of your field of view "I'm gonna shower and get to bed, it's exhuastin having to carry your asses all game."

"Ouch, I know you don't mean that Buddy," Kiri says with a chuckle. He raises his head and looks around, you really don't want to be caught eavesdropping. With urgency, you didn't know you possess you hit the ground to avoid the Red Heads' gaze.

By the time you get up the man is gone and you let out a deep sigh of relief.

'This is what I get for eavesdropping.' you mumble thinking back to what Eijirou said to his friend. '20,000 people go to this school, of course, Katsuki Bakugou likes someone.'

With a huff you turn your attention to your paper, hoping that if you get done you still could make it to someone's party and forget about the fact that your crush is basically off the market.

It's been forty minutes or so of writing and erasing when you hear the roaring laughter from downstairs. It's not anything unusual but it's enough to make you look back out the window at the much cleaner-looking Athletes running toward Kirishima's van, the redhead pulls out of his spot and out of the lot.

With the absence of Kirishima and his teammates, the dorms are once again quiet. With everyone else out having the time of their lives partying you feel more motivated than ever to get to work on your essay. You plop down in your chair and prepare to finish it as soon as you can.

Raising your pen you prepare to start the next paragraph. Just as you begin to write you hear a string of curses and the sound of thumping footsteps, the sound shocks you enough to make you jerk your arm and send a streak of black ink across your paper.\

Now you're the one who's cursing.

The footsteps outside only get louder. With a huff, you scoot back from the desktop and stomp to your room door, ready to chew out whoever is making all this noise when you are trying to concentrate.

Gripping the doorknob you fling it open and come face-to-face with Katsuki Bakugou, He has a look of embarrassment on his cheeks. Immediately you understand why. Droplets of water cling to his hair and down his bare chest. With the exception of a conveniently placed pizza box from a place on campus, the Man is completely nude.

Your eyes meet his crimson ones in shock.

"Kat-" you start to say but he cuts you off.

"Those Idiots took my clothes and my keys when I was in the shower," he says.

You blink stupidly at the specimen in front of you unable to find the part of your brain that makes speech possible.

"Well, are ya gonna let me in?" he says irritably glancing back at the hallway he just came from.

You step aside for him to come inside and you try your best not to catch a glimpse of his backside as he walks past you. "I can get you a towel... and some clothes." you finally say in a hushed tone. You grab one of your folded towels and some worn sweatpants and a sleepshirt from your closet and toss it to him fearing that if you looked at him too closely you may just combust.

He takes the clothes and examines them carefully, "Are these your boyfriend's or something?" he says with a disinterested tone.

"N-no," you say "They’re pajamas. Now can you please just put them on?"

He turns around and gives you the biggest smirk you have ever seen. "What? you don't like what ya see?"

Normally you are even-tempered but there is just something about having the school's star athlete naked in your bedroom that just makes you lose it for a second.

"No, I want you to put them on so you stop getting my carpet wet and you don't sit on my bed with your bare ass, Katsuki." you snap at him.

Katsuki chuckles at your display but takes the clothes. "Cute."

You turn around with your arms crossed as you hear the sound of shuffling clothes and the pizza box hitting the floor. "Are you done yet?" you ask.

"Yea, don't worry Princess, I'm modest now." he jeers. Hoping you arent being punked, you turn around. The clothes fit him well, The faded sweats and stretched-out T-shirt look way better on him than they ever did no you, it's a bit unfair that Katsuki looks so good without even trying.

"You weren't at the game," he says matter o factly. as he walks over to your desk and begins to pick up the little trinkets on your desk.

"Nope, I had things to do," you say gesturing to your essay.

he glances down at it, "This for Aizawa's class? You know that's not due for a while."

"No the deadline says it's due the 17th." you protest.

"Yeah, the 17th of November, he laughs.

"You're joking," you groan feeling a deep set feeling of uncomfortableness in your temples. Did you really spend the last five hours writing like a madman for a paper that is due in over a month?

Did you really have to look this stupid in front of your crush?

"Maybe I like being ahead," you say defensively crossing your arms. "At least I'm not streaking through the dorms like a pervert, why did you even come up the stairs anyway, a RA could've unlocked your door for you?"

A pink tint covers his cheeks as he kicks the now discarded pizza box toward your trash can. "There is no way I'm letting that damn idiot see me like this, I knew that you were here so I came up. here once those extras took my shit."

"How did you know I was here?" you ask, seeing him embarrassed fills you with confidence. This is the longest conversation the two of you have ever had and he's never been to your dorm room before.

"Shitty Hair told me he saw you earlier," he tells you. Taking a deep breath he starts towards the door. “ I’ll bring your stuff back tomorrow, I’ll just chill in the hall till they get back.“

”Wait, you can stay here if you’d like.“ you say a little too quickly to be subtle. “You guys won a big game today, they probably are going to be out all night, and nowhere else is open.”

There is a soft sincerity in his gaze as he looks back at you. "Are you okay if I stay?" his voice has a softness to it that you have never heard before, it almost sounds nervous.

"I don't mind," you smile at him "I'm not really in the mood to go anywhere tonight."

His shoulders drop and a switch seems to flip inside of him.

"Good, those parties are lame," he smiles flopping down on your bed like it's his room, not yours."You shouldn't waste your time with those extras."

"Extras? Really?" you tease "How would you know? You never go out."

"What, are you looking for me now?" he says with a grin.

It’s so unfair, how does he get to fluster you like that? You don’t get him at all.

It’s almost as if he’s flirting with you. But why would he?

Katsuki Bakugou can have anyone he wants, why should he bother with you?

“ It's not like that, “you say clenching your fist into balls. He’s right though, it’s exactly like that. Any party that you have gone to on campus no matter how much you’ve had to drink your eyes scan the room looking for only him.

“Are you sure?“ He says calling your bluff immediately.

Your voice comes out so small, one wouldn't dare to call it a whisper. But his ears pick up the syllable as it leaves your lips.

"No.”

#Bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #bnha fluff #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo fluff

718 notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 2 years

Text

Only For Tonight (Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader x Topper Thornton)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, cuckolding, threesome, toxic relationship, non canon ages, drug use, underage drinking, pre established Rafe x reader

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ This can be read as a stand alone piece but it is technically the prequel to Wicked Games

summary: Rafe’s ego outweighs his jealousy when he decides to show you off one night, proving that best friends really do share everything.

You wistfully stared out of the window as your boyfriend drove by The Wreck, a sigh trapped deep down in your chest. You hadn’t been by there in so long, and the brief glimpses you got of your friends here and there weren’t enough. Or were they considered former friends now? Pope and John B had long given up on you, but JJ still reached out occasionally. Kie texted you every chance she could, and Sarah…

Sarah was the only one you saw on a regular basis.

You were dating her brother, after all.

You and Rafe had been unexpected for all parties involved. Nights spent at Sarah’s had you running into the blond man more often than usual, interacting with him more often than usual, and as it turns out, you hadn’t been imagining those lingering gazes and soft brushes of fingers along skin.

Rafe Cameron had been into you, and he’d made that clear under no uncertain terms.

You remembered how you had laughed, thinking he was joking. Even after he’d told you how serious he was, eyes dark and jaw clenched, you’d still laughed. Rafe Cameron? Into a Pogue? It sounded like a bad joke or even worse dare. You hadn’t given it anymore thought when you got home, but by the next day, you weren’t laughing anymore.

You didn’t laugh when flowers started showing up at your job, your boss and coworkers teasing you about your secret admirer. You didn’t laugh when notes started appearing on your car, a frown on your face at the surprisingly romantic words scrawled along the small cards. You definitely hadn’t laughed when you came home, and your mom excitedly showed you her new car.

That had been the last straw.

“So, you think you can buy me?” you had demanded of him at a party one night.

He’d snorted a small line of coke before rolling his head towards you, long lashes fluttering as he stared you down. His friends had made themselves scarce, grumbling and throwing you both nervous looks as they did. You hadn’t moved when he stood, getting close and personal as he leaned in.

“I told you that I liked you-.”

“…and this is how you show it? Flowers and gifts and cars?”

You sounded incredulous, and Rafe chuckled, shoving his hands into his pocket.

“Yeah, this is how I show it,” he’d said, face so serious that you frowned. “When I like someone, I do nice things for them. I spoil them and make their life easier and do what I can to see them smile.”

You’d been taken aback by that, lips parting as you were now forced to take him seriously. His brows were drawn together, blue eyes searching yours, and you suddenly felt…silly. You’d shuffled on your feet, clearing your throat as you had to accept that this was real.

Rafe liked you.

“Oh…”

“Yeah…oh.”

You had glanced away, face suddenly heating up and heart fluttering in your chest under his heated stare.

“I didn’t… Why?” you’d wondered, looking all sorts of confused.

You were a Pogue, so it was understandable. He’d shrugged, doing that thing with his face that told you he wasn’t quite sure himself.

“I just do,” he’d said. “…and I don’t think I can stomach the thought of you with someone who isn’t me, so…”

Somehow that had flattered you, and days later, you’d found yourself having a serious conversation with Sarah. She’d looked shocked, maybe even a bit worried, but she’d given you the ‘okay’. Telling you that as long as you were happy, she’d support it.

It had started slow. Going out to eat here, hanging out at the beach there, but all too soon, you were wrapped up in the whirlwind that was your relationship with Rafe Cameron. He started to consume every part of your life, and you hadn’t even noticed until Pope had harshly asked you when you’d remember they even existed.

You had felt horrible, like the worst friend, and you’d made up for it at first. You made the effort to divide your time between your old world and your new one evenly. It worked at first, but then Rafe started talking you into more parties you just ‘couldn’t say no to’, and getting you so drunk you’d forget all about meeting up with your friends or forcing you to come on his tongue for hours until you passed out from exhaustion.

Somehow, you’d started seeing them less and less until you just…didn’t.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Rafe’s low voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned your head towards him just as a hand landed on your thigh. His fingers dipped underneath your skirt just a tad, grazing the skin there, and you smiled at him.

“Just thinking… Next time we go out, we should go to The Wreck,” you proposed.

It wasn’t the first time you suggested it as of late, and like before, you watched the way Rafe’s brows furrowed just a tad. He was facing the road again, and his jaw clenched before he looked back at you with a crooked smile.

“Next time…”

He’d said that before, and although you knew better, part of you hoped that he meant it this time. His general attitude towards Pogues was no secret, but you still hadn’t been prepared for how little you’d see your friends when you started dating. It was obvious that Rafe didn’t like you hanging out with them despite being one yourself, but you had initially written it off as nothing.

But now his world had taken over yours, and you didn’t even know how to go about fixing it.

The house wasn’t empty anymore when you finally made it back, Ward in the kitchen when you walked in. He was just hanging up the phone as you and Rafe set the takeout boxes down onto the counter.

“We brought you guys something to eat,” you told him.

There was a fond smile on the older man’s face at your words. You knew that he wasn’t your biggest fan with you being from The Cut and all, but you could tell there was some appreciation there for how much Rafe had mellowed out since dating you.

“Well, thank you, Y/N,” he replied, an emphasis on your name because nobody seemed to know Rafe better than his own father.

The two of you had argued in the restaurant for over 15 minutes over whether or not to get food for the rest of his family too. Clearly, you’d won. You threw him a sheepish look as he saw right through your original statement, and you went to put the food away as he pulled the blond into some discussion you’d rather not be present for.

“Look, Rafe, I just need you to do a little better, alright? Not just for my sake, but for poor Y/N’s too…”

You closed the fridge in time to meet Ward’s eye.

“…she can’t spend all her time looking after you,” he joked.

You gave a light chuckle at that, grimacing at the way Rafe rolled his eyes.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he mumbled, reaching for you as he made his way upstairs.

“You know Ward was just messing around,” you said as you moved through the dark hallway, trying to placate him.

He didn’t respond right away, a low sigh escaping him as he closed the door behind you. He pulled you against him, arm curved around your neck as he pressed his lips to your forehead. You both felt and heard him breathe you in.

“Yeah,” he quietly said, but it didn’t sound convincing.

It was amazing really how the man who Rafe strived so hard to seek approval from could put him in such a bad mood with only a few words. He pulled away from you to undress, reaching behind his head to pull off his shirt. He told more so than asked you to join him in the shower, and you were unsurprised when he kissed you halfway through.

His lips were eager, hungry, and when all of the soap ran down the drain, he reached back to turn the shower off. You were both still dripping when he guided you out of the bathroom, a giggle escaping your lips when his fingers tickled along your sides.

“Rafe,” you sighed, a moan tumbling out when he groped you.

Neither of you cared about getting his bed wet, only focused on being as close as possible. Rafe held you like a lifeline, not uncommon for him after any kind of confrontation with Ward. The older man always managed to get underneath his skin, and where Rafe used to cope with familiar white powder, he had replaced with you. You didn’t mind, never had. In fact, it made you feel good to know that it was you he sought solace in when his thoughts became too much.

You both moaned when he slid into you with ease, your fingers twisting into his hair, your teeth sinking into your lip. You wrapped your legs around him, holding him to you as he rutted into you, slowly curving his hips into yours. His muscles strained as he held himself above you, lips grazing along your skin before finding your own.

You were mindful of the fact that you were in a full house. Ward downstairs, Rose and Wheezie and Sarah in their rooms, no doubt. You always tried to be mindful, but you’d long discovered that Rafe liked knowing others could hear you. That others could hear what he was doing to you, and that every sound you made was because of him.

Your hands trailed to his neck, nails scraping along skin as they danced towards his chest. He kissed you again, swallowing your moans, his own groan filling your mouth when you clenched around his cock. Your toes curled at the way he stretched you, a small hiss escaping at a jerk of his hips. His hands found yours, threading your fingers together as he pushed them into the pillows on either side of your head.

“You know I love you, right?” he breathed into your mouth.

Your only response was a shaky nod, but Rafe wasn’t satisfied with that.

“Right…?”

“Y-yes,” you gasped, knees bent when he pushed his own forward.

“Fuck baby,” he breathed, burying his face into your neck. “…and you love me, right?”

He had lifted his head, eyes boring into yours. The blue of them was piercing, paralyzing even as he stared you down. There was some desperation there that gave you pause, and your gaze softened, craning your neck to brush your lips against his.

“Of course, I love you, Rafe. I’ll always love you,” you whispered against his lips.

He paused in his movements, letting one of your hands go to reach and touch your face, fingers grazing your skin. His brows were drawn together, and his jaw ticked ever so slightly as he held your gaze. He studied your face, nose brushing yours.

“You promise…?”

“I promise,” you said without hesitation.

You felt Rafe shudder against you, fingers still on your face, and he ran his thumb along your lip before kissing you again. His hips resumed their movements, thrusting into you with a pace that made you gasp. Rafe wasted no time before tasting the inside of your mouth. He fucked you for what felt like hours, tasting you and basking in the feel of you wrapped around him. Every frustration he had against Ward he took out on you, teeth and fingers pressing into your skin.

And you were more than happy to let him.

When you finally came around him, you threw your head back, lips parted in a silent scream. Rafe had one hand pressed into your stomach, holding you down as you bucked underneath him. His other curled around the back of your neck, his lips leaving open mouthed kisses along your throat when he finally spilled into you. You clung to him as you both came together, breathing labored and chest heaving.

He had just rolled over to pull you against his chest when his phone went off. You groaned, about to tell him to ignore it when he grabbed it, giving you a quick glance of the screen. You rolled your eyes at the sight of Topper’s name, sitting up with a sigh. Rafe made a slight frown as he watched you put on some clothes, but he’d never ignored Topper before, and you knew he wasn’t going to start now.

The other guy’s voice filled the room as Rafe answered his FaceTime call, proving you right. He must have heard you because it wasn’t long before the sound of your name reached your ears.

“Is Y/N there?”

“Yeah,” Rafe answered, a small smirk on his lips, and you rolled your eyes again. “…but you can keep talking.”

It didn’t take a genius to catch on to the fact that they were talking about coke and any other drugs they could get for some party this week. Topper’s voice became like background noise, and you thought to yourself how the other blond always seemed to be around. You knew they were best friends before you started dating, Kelce too, but even Kelce seemed to somewhat have a life outside of Rafe.

Despite what Topper liked to repeat, you wondered if it was because he was still kind of hung up on Sarah. It wasn’t your place to say how he really felt about her because all that mattered was that to him, she was his first love. Unfortunately, John B was hers, and you and Topper were far from close enough to know what his thoughts really were.

Prepared to leave Rafe alone with what felt like the other person in this relationship at times, you made your way downstairs for something to drink.

You happily danced with some girl you’d befriended for the night. She was just as drunk as you, her boyfriend ditching her after some argument. At least, that was what she’d slurred to you, clearly having word vomit as she rambled. You’d listened intently, frowning at the fact that he just left her.

“Don’t worry,” she had waved you off. “…my friends are on their way.”

That had relieved you some, and she was more than happy to agree when you offered to hang out with her until they did. She was nice enough, and deep down, some part of you wondered if she still would be if she knew you weren’t a Kook. It was a thought you often had whenever you found yourself immersed in Rafe’s world.

You always felt like an imposter, like you were living a life that wasn’t actually yours. Your place here was conditional, and you knew it, and you knew that if it weren’t for Rafe, you wouldn’t get treated half as nice as you did. It was a thought that troubled you, but Rafe made it worth it.

You turned to look at the blond as he leaned against the wall with Topper and Kelce, a fond smile on his pink lips when his eyes met yours.

Of all the girls on this entire island, he chose you. It was daunting at first to say the least, but clearly Rafe saw something in you that he loved. That he wanted for himself, and eventually your skepticism had faded away to acceptance.

“…but I’m a Pogue,” you had said to Rafe one night after a date during the early stages of your relationship.

He’d bitten his lip, blue eyes glinting as he drank you in.

“Yeah, but I don’t care,” he’d replied, fingers touching your chin. “…you’re different.”

It had made you frown, not quite agreeing with his compartmentalization, but then he had kissed you and helped you out of the truck and taken you on one of the best dates you’d ever experienced. You looked away from him when the girl at your side said her goodbyes, relief filling you both when she joined her friends.

You stumbled your way towards Rafe, and he reached for you to help you the rest of the way. Kelce was gone, and you could feel Topper’s eyes on you both when you kissed him.

“New friend?” Rafe drawled, and you shrugged.

“Kind of. Her asshole of a boyfriend just left her,” you scoffed in disbelief. “She was all alone.”

“What a jerk,” Rafe chuckled.

“Where’d Kelce go?” you wondered since he’d just been here.

“He went chasing after some girl he’s been trying to get for weeks,” Topper answered with a laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips. “He’s got no shot.”

Rafe joined him, a grin on his own lips.

“50 bucks says he gets a drink thrown in his face,” your boyfriend said.

You rolled your eyes at them, looking away as Rafe’s hands slid over your waist, pulling you against him. Some girl was walking out of the kitchen with homemade cocktails, and you waved her over. If you weren’t mistaken, this was her house, and she confirmed it when she finally made her way to you.

“Careful,” she warned you when she handed you one. “You can’t taste the alcohol and that makes it dangerous.”

You thanked her for the warning, taking a sip as she waited to see how it turned out. The flavor was sweet on your tongue, and you complimented her with wide eyes. As you did so, you could hear Topper’s voice behind you. Low so you knew he was trying to whisper, but just loud enough to reach your ears.

“Y/N looks really good tonight…”

You frowned slightly at that, taking another sip as the girl told you what she’d put in the drink in case you wanted to make it sometime.

“You just noticed?” you heard Rafe chuckle, voice muffled slightly by his cup.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounded offended on your behalf. You heard Topper hit his arm, a light scoff escaping him.

“She always looks hot, but you know what I mean,” his tone was light. “I’m trying to compliment your girlfriend, man.”

Rafe’s only response was a hum after a while, and when the other girl left, you turned to make him take a sip. Rafe didn’t like what he liked to call ‘girly drinks’, but he rolled his eyes and took a sip, nonetheless. As he did, your eyes accidentally met Topper’s, and you sent him an awkward smile. He didn’t return it right away, blue eyes boring into yours before the corner of his mouth eventually curved upwards.

It was another hour or so when the drugs finally came out. You weren’t surprised when Topper went to cop some, and Rafe briefly kissed you as soon as you’d finished your drink. His arms circled around your waist, pulling you closer while his lips grazed your ear.

“You want to head upstairs?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ve been fighting a headache for about half an hour now,” you complained, and Rafe shook his head at you.

“Okay, grandma,” he teased just as Topper returned.

He and Rafe shared a brief look as he told Topper you guys were heading upstairs. Your hand was in Rafe’s as he led you up there, Topper behind you both as they joked about the girl Kelce was striking out with. All of the alcohol in your system had you stumbling a bit, Topper’s hand on your back steadying you, and even though you thanked him, you couldn’t help the slight frown that fell over your face.

You and Topper were as close as you could be with you being Rafe’s girlfriend and all, but you couldn’t ever recall a time where he’d touched you. Not even to help you down some stairs. Rafe was always there, and he got jealous over the most harmless of things. You both knew that, and yet, Rafe didn’t look upset at all when he glanced back.

You couldn’t remember whose house you were in, the cocktail girl now faceless in your mind, but Rafe seemed to, at ease as he walked into an empty room. His hand was still in yours as he pulled you inside, and you faintly noted the sound of the door clicking shut as Topper closed it. You thought nothing of it, recalling the many times you’d gotten high with them in whatever empty room they could find.

Sometimes Kelce was present too, sometimes with Topper absent, but Rafe was always there.

You made your way towards the window, looking down at the yard with a light laugh. Some guy was being pushed into the pool, a harmless fight breaking out as he and the girl splashed each other. You could hear Rafe and Topper snorting a line or 2 behind you, and you turned when Rafe softly called your name. It dripped like honey from his lips.

He was holding his hand out to you when you faced him, sitting at the desk. Her jerked his head, motioning for you to come over. Topper was leaning against it, blue eyes meeting yours as you neared them.

“It’s all nice and neat for you just like you like,” your boyfriend mocked.

“Ha ha.”

Never in your life did you ever think you’d be used to snorting anything, but you didn’t make a habit out of it. Only doing so here and there, but always with Rafe around. That was the only time you even felt comfortable getting high. You didn’t trust anyone else.

A hand was in your hair as you leaned over and inhaled the small line, and when you sat up, you noticed that Rafe was making another line for himself…hands occupied. Your brows knitted, but when you looked over at Topper, he was already walking away.

Rafe snorted another line and pulled you against him as he stood. You laughed into his mouth as he kissed you, the display of affection with a present audience common. His hand reached down to grope you, and again, this wasn’t uncommon. However, you did jerk a bit when he tried to slip his hand into your shorts.

“Rafe!”

You laughed it off, but you did look at him like he’d lost his mind. He had never tried to go that far with anyone else present before.

“Topper’s right there,” you harshly reminded him. “Don’t be gross.”

He pulled you back when you tried to go back towards the window, wrapping his arms around you as he pressed his chest to your back.

“Topper doesn’t mind,” he mumbled, pressing kisses along your neck. “Right…?”

Topper was leaning back on the bed, watching you both with a shake of his head. Your frown deepened.

“Nope,” he said, popping the “P” with a small smirk dancing across his lips.

His gaze was unwavering, and you nervously scoffed.

“Well, I do, so…”

You went to move away again, but Rafe held you to him as he walked towards the bed. He turned you around, lips covering yours again, and you pushed at his shoulder. You tried to turn your head.

“Just pretend like he’s not there,” he groaned, tightening his arms around you.

“Rafe, come on,” you sighed, huffing when he gently pushed you onto the bed.

You bounced a bit, and you looked at your boyfriend like he was crazy. You kept thinking to yourself that he couldn’t be serious. Surely the alcohol and coke had fried his brain or something, and you failed to move your foot in time as he reached for it, keeping you in place.

It was hard to ignore Topper’s gaze as Rafe slowly made himself comfortable on top of you, lips meeting yours before kissing his way down your frame, making you squirm. A sharp gasp escaped you when he nipped at your hip, his hand coming up to slide under your bathing suit top.

“Rafe,” you sharply said, trying to sit up, but the combination of alcohol and coke was making it really hard.

Everything seemed to hit you all at once, and you blinked a few times.

“Show Topper how pretty you are,” he moaned, teeth nipping at your thighs.

When Topper’s hand landed on your other leg, that was when you found the strength to sit up. You didn’t like this, and you told Rafe that.

“I don’t…I don’t like this,” you mumbled, trying to get off of the bed, but then Topper’s lips were on yours, making your eyes widen.

You had never once thought about kissing the other man, not even in passing, but you were still surprised at how soft his lips were. They pressed against yours, slightly bitter with the taste of beer, and his hand pressed into the mattress beside your hip as he moved closer. His breath mingling with yours made you gasp, eyes widening.

You pushed at him, looking at him in shock before your eyes fell to Rafe. But your so-called jealous boyfriend didn’t look it, at all. His blue gaze was focused intently on you, teeth still grazing over your skin, tongue darting out here and there. There was a sinking feeling in your gut, and you really wanted to leave.

“I’m going home-.”

Rafe’s hand on your jaw cut you off, and you looked at him with wide eyes as his nose brushed yours, dark blond strands touching your forehead. He’d moved so fast it made your heart skip a beat, and you swallowed at his tight hold on your face.

“Lighten up, yeah…? We’re having fun,” he slurred, a look in his eyes that made your heart race.

“I’m not.”

You tried to get away again, but Rafe was pushing you down, hands on your wrist as he pinned you down.

“Relax,” he drawled. “Show Topper how good you are.”

“Rafe, this isn’t funny-!”

A gasp left you when Topper’s lips descended over your chest. You didn’t even feel him pull the top down. His other hand was working it’s way into your shorts, and Rafe kissed at your throat as it did. Your mind was telling you what was happening, but you were having a hard time believing it was real. Some part of you was trying to convince yourself that somewhere along the way the coke and alcohol had knocked you out, and this was all a nightmare.

“Rafe, I don’t like this!”

You fought against them both, tears kissing your eyes as you furiously tried to sit up. You managed to slip away for a moment before Rafe was slamming you back down. Your head spun from the movement, and you kicked your feet as he pulled at your shorts. You were growing scared and desperate.

“You’re embarrassing me, babe,” he sighed with a chuckle, but it lacked humor, and you wanted to be sick.

Topper’s hands were on your legs, and Rafe moved towards your head, one hand on your shoulder while the other was under your chin, tilting your head up so he could kiss you. You could feel Topper settling between your legs, and your chest heaved. Rafe moved his mouth over yours, and you could hear the whisper of clothes falling to the floor.

“Be a good girl,” your boyfriend purred, eyes focusing on Topper now.

You followed his gaze, only briefly catching the sight of Topper hard and ready before settling between your legs. Your heart sank to your stomach, but everything coursing through your system made it hard to move. The room was tilting, spinning slightly, and your hands against Rafe weren’t doing much. You could feel Topper’s hands running along your legs, his unfamiliar touch making you cringe.

“You love me right…?” Rafe asked, lips ghosting over yours.

“Yes, but-!”

“…but what?”

Rafe’s voice was colder now as he stared into your eyes, and you shuddered when you felt Topper run his fingers over you. He played with your folds and swiped his fingers over you before pushing them inside. You whined, bucking against him in an effort to get him off, hands trying to push back at Rafe.

“You don’t think it’ll make me happy to see my friend happy?”

You couldn’t find the right words to respond to that, gasping as Topper curled his fingers into you. You heard him curse, and you felt his other hand pressing to the inside of your thigh, spreading your legs. Your lashes fluttered, and Rafe pinned you down.

Your mouth parted into an ‘O’ shape as Topper began to push his way into you. He stretched you, sinking into you torturously slow. Your shaky gaze was focused on Rafe who seemed to be focused on where Topper was sliding into you. The other blond moaned when he filled you completely, remaining still for a moment to adjust. You hadn’t even realized you’d started crying until your tears hit your ears.

Rafe shushed you, peppering kisses along your face as Topper pulled out before pushing his cock back into you.

“Show him how good you are for me, hmm?”

“No-.”

You were cut off when Rafe grabbed your wrists, pinning them beside your head and kissing along your throat. Topper’s heavy breathing reached your ears, and your back arched, chest pointing upwards as his cock stroked your walls. His unfamiliar hands were on your thighs, groping at them with a possessiveness that scared you. The more you accepted that this was happening, the more you cried.

When Rafe finally let you go, your relief was short-lived.

Topper caged you in completely now, his breath in your ear. His hands hooked underneath your thighs, hips snapping into yours. He slid into you with ease now, the sound of your involuntary arousal filling the room despite the muffled sounds of the party that could still be heard. You pushed at his chest, but he wasn’t budging, too caught up in the feel of you clinging to his length with every movement.

Your attention was drawn to the faint sound of Rafe standing. You watched in despair as he locked the door, the sound deafening in the room. The room was still swaying, and you felt so light and confused. The alcohol was fully settled in your system now, and it was warring with the coke. You slowly blinked, head lolling a bit to watch Topper move above you.

He leaned in, nose brushing yours, and you couldn’t swallow down the small moan that left your lips. You watched his lashes flutter, blue eyes flitting between yours. You watched him swallow, breathing shallow as he continued to fuck you, an unreadable look on his face.

The bed dipped beside you as Rafe joined you again, fingers grazing your chin as he turned your head towards him. His shirt was gone, and he pressed his lips to yours. You could barely move them, weakly protesting as he kissed you. He hummed into it, fingers still on your chin as he turned your head towards Topper in time for his lips to meet yours too.

He was fervent as he moved his mouth against yours, moaning into it. His hand found your neck, fingers curling around the back as he held your head in place. You could hear Rafe undressing, and your movements were sluggish as you reached up to grab at Topper’s arms. His lips traveled down over your chin and to your neck, tongue darting out to taste you just as Rafe’s hand tangled in your hair.

There seemed to be some cue that you missed because Topper pulled out of you with a groan. You shuddered at the feel, weakly protesting again as Rafe grabbed you, kissing you before turning you over. That just made the room spin more, and your nails scraped the sheets while his hands settled on your hips. He entered you in one smooth thrust, and you gasped.

Even the familiar feel of his cock couldn’t make this better. You were so confused and hurt and scared. You started crying again, and you felt Topper wiping at your cheeks, gently shushing you as his hand ghosted over your face. Rafe pulled you up so that your back met his chest, sinking into you over and over. His hand wrapped around your throat, and his lips met your ear.

“You’re so pretty babe,” he whispered. “You should be proud that I want to show you off…show Topper how good you feel…how good you taste…”

At that, Topper’s mouth wrapped around a hardened bud, and you couldn’t swallow down the whine that left you. His hands found a place on your hips as he kissed down your body, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His teeth grazed your lower stomach before nipping at your hip as Rafe had done earlier.

You couldn’t get a good grasp of time, unsure if 30 minutes or an hour had gone by. They took turns, taking you apart underneath them and relishing in the sounds of your whimpers and moans. When Topper finally came inside of you, he’d gripped you so tight you were sure there’d be bruises. He had moaned into your mouth, and you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from coming around him, walls fluttering against your will and thighs trembling.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he’d hissed, and your fingers had twisted into the sheets.

“Doesn’t she feel good?” Rafe had said, sounding proud, and Topper had only moaned in response.

You were exhausted, barely moving at all when Rafe took his place, the alcohol on the verge of knocking you out completely. Your head lolled, and you murmured something unintelligible that Rafe quickly swallowed with a kiss. You could feel the mess you were making on the bed, every push of Rafe’s cock making a noise that would’ve embarrassed you had you been more lucid.

He slammed into you, teeth gritted and fingers twisting into the sheets beside your head. You were beyond sensitive from your first orgasm, shaking beneath him already. You squeezed your eyes shut when Topper reached down to brush his fingers over you, helping you along and making you clench down onto Rafe. You cried out, hanging onto Rafe’s arms, nails digging into his skin, unable to stop your hips from lifting to meet his.

His cock hit something in you that had you seeing stars, and your chest arched upwards.

“She’s so pretty when she comes,” you heard Topper murmur, fatigue clearly creeping up on him.

Rafe hummed in agreement, stilling against you, coming deep inside of you with a low moan. He looked tired too, and when he pulled out to collapse at your side, you couldn’t even find the strength to get up. Your lashes fluttered, and you ached, desperately wanting to leave as soon as you found the strength to. Rafe’s fingers grazed your own, and you couldn’t even pull them away, wanting to be as far away from him as possible, right now.

Darkness crept along the outskirts of your vision, and you could only exhale when Topper’s hand cupped your face, soft lips brushing over your tear-stained cheek.

tags: @xoxabs88xox @readermia @buckybarnesplumwhore @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @trinittyy @hyoyeoniie @mandiiblanche @doozywoozy @melli0112 @zombiexbody @holl2712 @mansaaay @lipstickstainedred @avengers-goddess @ameliaalvarez06 @kaelibaby @totallynotkaibiased @hanniebee33 @jemimah-b99 @gillybear17 @straywords@mannstarkey @lovserrr @aglassoforangejuiceee @emberenchanted @layazul @toystory2wasjustokay @my-baexht-ls @prettymuchboo @asonofpeter @spidey-d00d @cockslutpadalecki @dirtytissuebox @evemarieyl @katherinemaximoff @ventinglation @tastycakee @stopnala @annellie @littleone2223 @itskeishaaaaa @blueicequeen19 @drewsgfduh @ashpeace888 @bibliophilewednesday @lonnie2390147 @1-800-di0r @amanduhh1998 @coldspoons @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @twwcs @breakfastonpluto19 @lovedetlost @pearlsofme @officialfangirls-blog

#dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!topper Thornton #topper thorton x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x reader #topper thornton x pogue!reader #obx fic #obx #outer banks #dark fics

1K notes · View notes

mrsquill · 7 months

Text

Love U, Dad

Summary: A little snapshot of Joel & Sarah’s life in 2003, as Joel contemplates the fact his daughter is growing up. This story exists thanks to the amazingly fantastic @perotovar and the gorgeous snippet of dialogue in this post (love you 🤍). Short, as always, but hopefully (!) sweet.

Notes: OUTBREAK FREE! I’ll say it again: the outbreak never happens here! In fact, Sarah lives to be 103 years old, because I said so. Lots of love to the wonderfully lovely people who’ve listened to me scream about this, including @macfrog @vanillacene @bastardmandennis & @swiftispunk 🦋

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood (blink and you’ll miss it). Please let me know if I forgot anything!

Joel woke to knocking on his bedroom door, his daughter’s voice floating through from the other side. “Alarm!” Sarah called, and he groaned, rolling over in his sheets, eyes still squeezed shut.

Physically, he felt like a ton of bricks had been dropped on his back; the only thing to take the edge off being the strong coffee he could grab downstairs. ‘Least it was Friday, he reasoned.

One more day hauling ass on site, then the weekend was his own. Joel was hoping to spend time with Sarah; her soccer season had ended, and he wanted to take her out hiking to their favourite spot.

He always packed the picnic, cut her sandwiches the same way he had for years, picked up their favourite juice.

He was conscious of that; her childhood slipping like sand through his hands. He knew he was getting older, but he often forgot she was, too.

Joel tried to master the constant urge he had to keep her around him at all times; it was his natural instinct, just the two of them growing up together since the day she was born. But everyone loved being around Sarah. His little butterfly.

Her energy infectious; smile radiant, like her mothers. Though, he knew she wasn’t smiling now, as she rapped on his bedroom door again. “Alarm!” she huffed, followed by a quieter, “honestly?!” to herself. Joel grinned; he knew she was rolling her eyes.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The moody strings of Gold Dust Woman faded away into silence, Joel looking over at his daughter with a smile on his face. He was taking her to school, a routine which was becoming more of a rarity as he took on longer and earlier jobs.

“That’s your favourite, isn’t it?” Sarah asked, grinning. “Sure is. Off of this record, anyway. How ‘bout you?” he questioned her.

Sarah paused in thought for a moment, staring out the window of the truck wistfully.

“It’d have to be Silver Springs for me. Stevie’s emotion in that song is like, haunting”, she decided, “but I do love Oh Daddy, too.” Joel nodded in agreement with her choices. “Knew I raised you right, kiddo,” he chuckled at her insightfulness, wise beyond her years.

“Tomorrow, though, we’re listening to Survivor. The whole thing, back to back,” Sarah grinned toothily. Joel knew his daughter to be Destiny’s Child superfan; posters tacked up all over her walls, CDs stuffed in the truck.

He fondly remembered the days when she’d been younger, her and her friends performing their latest dance routines in their garage over and over again.

One time, they’d even created tickets for him and Tommy, scrawling the date and time in jazzy coloured markers and drawn up chairs from the backyard. The thought made Joel smile.

“Fine. You don’t like Fleetwood Mac?” he asked, faking a frown. “Dad! I just told you two of my favourite songs,” she sighed, exasperated with his jokes.

“Good, ‘cuz you know what happened to your Uncle Tommy,” Joel chuckled. “What d’you mean?” Sarah asked, eyebrows raised. “He said somethin’ about Fleetwood Mac bein’ nothin’ but a bunch of hippies with a tambourine,” Joel sighed whilst his daughter laughed.

“Next thing he knew, I’d changed the locks at home. ‘S why he’s got that fancy new apartment,” Joel winked. She giggled, reaching for her backpack as he drove into the parking lot.

Kids were spilling out of cars all around them; flying past on skateboards and yelling out to their friends. “You got the grocery list?” Sarah asked pointedly, knowing Joel had the habit of forgetting.

“Uhuh,” Joel nodded, retrieving an old birthday card that doubled as his notepad from the glovebox.

“Pancake mix, Tampax, apples, peanut butter and shampoo for me. That right?” he asked, and she nodded, satisfied.

“How’d you feel about a hike this weekend?” Joel added, watching his daughter considering it for a moment. “It’d have to be Sunday,” Sarah murmured, eyes on her sneakers in the footwell as her feet did an awkward dance.

“But soccer’s over for the season-,” Joel began, and Sarah nodded. “I know, it’s not that. I’ve been asked to go to the mall on Saturday. On, like, a date,” she said, examining her fingernails.

“Is that so?” Joel chuckled, and she hit him lightly on the arm. “Dad,” she implored, eyes rolling again.“Well, do I know ‘em?” he said hesitantly, hoping she’d feel comfortable - confident, even - in telling him.

“Yeah,” she smiled wryly, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. “Him.” Joel craned his neck and saw Reece Connors, waving at him enthusiastically, if not a little nervously.

His family lived a few blocks away, and Joel’d remodelled their bathroom a few months previously. Sarah had met him at their place after school sometimes, and he’d quietly noticed the way the young man was hanging off his daughter’s every word.

“That’ll be nice, baby,” he said, watching a grin break over her face, a tidal wave of sweetness. God, she reminded him of her mother so much when she did that. “I guess we’ll see,” Sarah murmured, a little bashfully.

“Do you want to go?” Joel pressed a little, trying to rein his protectiveness in, on alert for any discomfort. “Yeah, I do,” she nodded, “He makes me laugh, and he wants to take me to see that new Disney movie? Pirates of the Caribbean?” she shrugged, and Joel scratched his beard thoughtfully.

“Can’t say I know a damn thing about that one, kid,” he laughed. “Yeah, current movie trivia is not your strong suit. Curtis & Viper 2 tonight, old man?” she asked, moving to kiss him on the cheek in farewell.

“Sounds real good to me,” Joel said, watching her go, floating away.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Joel wiped the sweat off his brow, back aching after a morning on site.

“Tommy!” he called across the bare bones of the house they were working on. “I’m headin’ out for lunch. Comin’?” he asked, and his brother gave him a thumbs up.

A few moments later and Tommy was in his niece’s seat as they drove in search of food. “Somethin’ on your mind?” he asked his older brother, Joel even more stoic than usual. “Oh, uh, not really. Was just thinkin’ - remember the Connors? The bathroom remodel?” Joel asked.

“Oh, hell yeah. Mrs Connors made the best damned lemonade I’d ever had,” Tommy sighed wistfully, shirt stuck to him with sweat.

“Anyway. I remember their boy bein’ sweet on Sarah, and turns out he’s asked her on a date this weekend,” Joel scrubbed a hand over his face as Tommy grinned.

“Jesus Christ,” Tommy chuckled softly. “Seems like yesterday we were teachin’ her how to walk in the backyard,” he said, shaking his head.

“Remember that time she knocked her tooth out, fallin’ off her bike? And you fainted, ‘cuz of the blood?” Tommy was laughing now. “I remember,” Joel said quietly with a smile.

“She’ll be fine, Joel” Tommy clapped an arm to his shoulder. “Although, remember what me and Marissa next door use to get up to? Jeez, I-“ Tommy started, before Joel cut him off loudly.

“We ain’t fuckin’ goin’ there, Tommy,” he warned, his brother holding his hand up in defeat. He turned up the radio; The Temptation’s My Girl oozing softly into the cab as Tommy hummed along.

Joel thought back to his 22-year-old self; his daughter nothing but a button nose and mewling cry in his arms. He’d been so fuckin’ scared.

But they made it; she was fifteen now, and it’d gone so fast. It’s true what they say, Joel reasoned with himself. She’d grown up in the blink of an eye.

He liked to think Sarah would always need him in some way; no longer for scraped knees and bedtime stories, but hopefully one day to pack up boxes and move her into college, or visit her in the city when she inevitably became a lawyer, or a judge.

Joel was conscious of not being too overbearing towards her; the last thing he ever wanted to feel was Sarah’s resentment.

It was hard, playing both mom and dad. He sometimes felt he struck the balance just right, that they were an unbreakable team; other times, he felt like he was drowning in boundaries and hormones.

He shoved his worries aside for later as they pulled up at the Farmer’s Market. Joel reached for his beaten-up old Nokia to shove in his back pocket, and it beeped with a text.

He paused momentarily; telling Tommy to go on ahead, he’d catch up.

It was from Sarah, and it simply read: ‘Love u, Dad.’

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

I TOLD y’all I’d make it up to you after last time 🥰 Sarah and Joel live forever! Everybody wins!

112 notes · View notes

musings-of-a-rose · 9 months

Note

Oh I have a good thought about Benny and Sparks. Based on this pic

Thinking about them having a lazy day at home. It's too hot to go outside. Benny has plans to make it hotter inside.

Lazy Day

Pairing:Benny Miller x "Sparks" f!reader from Light Me Up (link in notes)

Word Count: 900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I freaking love these two and will always take asks or what ifs or whatever! It was really nice to be able to visit them again. Gosh, I miss them.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Light Me Up Masterlist (Where Benny and Sparks came from)

Benny Masterlist

"I wish it wasn't so fucking hot outside!" You complain, turned backwards on the couch, leaning on the back of it with your head in your hands, staring wistfully out of the window. "I really wanted to go to that farmer's market today."

Benny pops open a bottle, the sound echoing through the quiet room as he takes a few gulps. "I know, Sparks. It's just too hot. Maybe next weekend?"

You sigh. "I'm not sure it will be there next weekend."

" 'm sorry, sweetheart." You hear him shuffle behind you, the glass bottle quietly thunking against the wooden coffee table as he sets it down.

His hands settle on your hips as he kneels behind you on the couch, pressing himself to your ass. "Do you know how hot you look in my shirts?"

He starts to slowly grind your ass against him, you being in the perfect position to rub him. He grunts, letting out a puff of air, his fingers digging a little deeper into your skin. "Sparks?" You answer by grinding back on your own, a quiet moan escaping you when you feel how hard he is.

Benny scoots back off the couch but before you can complain, he's back, hooking his fingers in your panties as he yanks them off, tossing them somewhere in the room. You try to turn around but he grips your hips preventing you from moving. He moves you slightly, arching your back just a little before he presses his face to you, licking down you before sucking slightly on your clit.

Your fingers twist into the couch, knuckles turning white as he starts to fuck you with his tongue. "Fuck, Benny!" But then he slides his fingers up, gently teasing your clit and you come, moaning out his name as he continues to touch you.

Then he's moving, kneeling behind you again, pressing your upper back down so you're arching a different way. He hikes your shirt, well, his shirt, over your hips, digging his fingers into your hip to keep you still as he slowly pushes in, his own whimpers and moans joining those coming from your own mouth. "Fuck, Sparks, you always feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock."

"Please, Benny. I need you to move, please," you're not above begging when he's fully inside of you, stretching you to your limits.

His voice is low and raspy. "Yes, ma'am."

He sets a rough pace, fucking you into the couch, your hand slapping against the glass window in front of you to prevent you from smashing against it. Your mouth hangs open, his name spilling from it with every thrust as you reach back with your other hand, digging your nails into his ass, willing him deeper. He feels your desperate pull on him, adding an extra hard thrust of his hips, smiling when you cry out his name. A few thrusts later and your body tenses, pulsing around him as you come screaming his name, head thrown back in ecstasy. Benny comes a moment later, spilling into you, a mix of grunts and your name fumbling from him.

You stay like that for a moment, sweat beading along your forehead while a few drops from Benny's face fall onto your back. He leans over you, pushing your shirt up higher to place kisses along your back. Eyes closed for a moment, you let out a contented sigh. But when your eyes open, your cheeks instantly catch fire.

"H-hi, Mrs. Johnson!" You give the woman a wave as she glares at you, yelling at you to be ashamed. Benny's body starts shaking and then the laughter tumbles out of him, filling the room with it as you join him once he pulls out.

"She told us to be ashamed!" You say through your laughter.

"Ah she's just jealous," Benny says as he wipes the tears from his face.

Using your hand you start to fan yourself, taking a few breaths. "Well that didn't help the heat."

"No, but I much prefer this heat," Benny waggles his eyebrows as he pulls you to him, kissing you deeply before putting his forehead to yours.

"I love you, Sparks."

"Don't you mean Mrs. Miller?"

Benny groans, trailing kisses down your neck. "You tryin' to get me all hot again, Mrs. Miller?"

"What ever do you mean? I was just looking out the window and you took advantage of me."

He chuckles. "Is that so?"

"Mmhmm… but next time, it's my turn."

He pulls his head back to look down at you, his eyebrows raised. "Oh?"

Silently, you push him to the floor and show him exactly what you mean.

—----

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989

#benny miller #ben miller #benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #benny miller x f!reader #triple frontier #garrett hedlund #benjamin miller #benjamin benny miller #garrett hedlund x reader #garrett hedlund x you #garrett hedlund characters #garrett hedlund character fanfic #garrett hedlund character ff #garrett hedlund character fanfiction

146 notes · View notes

soleilnomoon · 1 year

Note

i would love to place an order for Meringue Cookies, Dark Chocolate, Jelly Beans, Candy Necklace, & Blan Manje, with Caramel & Honey. Side menu # 1 for Boa or Nami. either is fine! with a g/n reader! These stories are a blast to read!

anon i am so so sry this took forever 😭💕💕💕 but i finally finished and i'm actually happy with it; also ty for requesting, i love boa hancock sfm i wish more ppl wrote for her.

4.3k words, gn reader (no pronouns), nsfw, 18+ mdni; angst angst angst bc that's how i vibe & smut, and if you squint real hard there's some fluff somehow i think. hancock is a brat as usual and reader ain't shit, but they go great together <3 feat. cute things like oral (f receiving), fingering, a lil bondage, hair pulling, some pussy slapping, more stuff that idr anymore ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა (if u see grammar/spelling errors no u didn't ;_;)

tagging lil’ kaia bc she asked so nicely ❤︎ @cvvor

“our love would be death” — anaïs nin

sea salt sifts through the wind, warm and fine enough that most don’t notice its intrusion. it lands on your nose and lips, coats your tongue when you exhale through your mouth; no matter how many times you try to wash away the taste, it still lingers. a persistent annoyance that refuses to leave you alone. it’s a bitter, yet familiar taste — one that fills your heart with memories you’ve long wanted to keep buried. you’re no stranger to heartache, but this is different.

you find that you can never sleep through the entire night without dreaming of your ex — of how you begged them to stay, of how you told them you couldn’t live without them. pathetic, you tell yourself one morning after another restless night — you know you need to find a way to move on, but there’s no way you can, not when you carved so many pieces of yourself to give away without much thought.

what you’re left with is a battered heart that can barely function on its own; it flops pitifully in your chest, rattling against your rib cage weakly. every day it gets harder to breathe, harder to face the truth that you’re all alone — again.

boa hancock doesn’t know why she even fucking bothers, but she can’t seem to stay away from you. it’s a privilege, in her opinion, for you to be graced with her presence, let alone be allowed to touch her intimately. so, when she finds you staring wistfully out of the window, sighing to yourself again she snaps.

“y/n, look at me,” she commands loudly, voice piercing through your body like a thick arrow that keeps you frozen in place. you know better than to disobey her, even though you want to; you know you’re being unreasonable, but the heart always wants what it can’t have, right?

not that she cares about any of that. in her mind, your ex is an ex for a reason. she grabs your face with her hand, squeezing tightly, delicate brows furrowed together as irritation drips down her spine. she could easily kill you and you know it. “i’m the most beautiful woman in the world,” she boasts, although there’s something melancholic about the way she says it.

you narrow your eyes at her, mouth moving before you can think better of it. “and what of it?” it’s not often that you challenge her like that, but today you’ve had enough of her games, of constantly catering to her whims and desires, of her veneer that she insists on keeping even when she’s alone with you.

it dawns on her then what the actual problem is. “you’re still in love with them.” anger seeps through her pores, and she knows if she doesn’t walk away soon, she might say or do something she’ll possibly regret.

you flinch, eyes widening — she’s not entirely wrong, but she’s not right either. you’re just stuck in limbo, unable to move on because you refuse to do so; after seeing them so happy with someone else, you can’t fathom finding any sort of happiness yourself. so, you cling onto the past, even when it threatens to destroy your present life.

for some reason, this pisses you off — that hancock is so much more perceptive than people give her credit for; that she’s not afraid to tell you the truth, despite how your friends sugarcoat everything for you. the rage that’s bubbled deep inside of you for months finally pushes out; you can barely think or see properly, and you forget yourself when you practically shout back at her.

“and you’re just jealous because for once, you’re not the focus of my attention.” you’re not sure why you say it, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel like shit.

there’s rarely a moment where hancock finds herself in absolute shock, but your venomous words cut into her bruised ego with vigor. it's a harsh reality that she refuses to accept, so she lashes out at you again.

“you’re pathetic.” her tone is cold, and she steels her face enough that she almost looks bored with you. hancock releases her hold on you and swivels on her heels to walk away. you don’t bother calling after her, but she pauses in her gait to look over her shoulder at you. “i’m done playing with you, get out of my sight.”

the dismissal is the first slap of many and her insistence on blatantly keeping her back turned while she ignores you is another. something in you breaks, but you know you’ve angered the pirate empress enough for one day. you don’t hesitate before scrambling to your feet and leaving her alone. after you close the door, you hear a shriek that’s accompanied by what sounds like a large vase shattering. you don’t bother checking on her, because you know you’re not wanted in her presence right now.

you should’ve seen this coming. one doesn’t simply think about another lover while in the presence of boa hancock; it’s absurd and theatrical, but it’s an unspoken rule that you keep breaking over and over. in the back of your mind, you know you should go make things right with her, but you just don’t know how.

hancock’s frustration continues to build throughout the day. she doesn’t know why someone — you, a commoner who should be groveling at her feet daily — can be so insolent without remorse. she’s smashed several expensive sculptures, shredded her mattress and bed sheets with large scissors, and cursed out every staff member in kuja palace. her anger only intensifies when she hears someone whisper your name, so she locks herself in her bedroom, refusing meals or assistance from anyone.

you’ve always thought that the pirate empress was annoying, self-centered, and unnecessarily mean without reason. you’ve told her this on several occasions, stunning her into silence — a feat that most cannot achieve. hancock would normally sentence someone to death for those sorts of callous remarks, but for some reason she spares you. maybe it’s because despite her incomparable, unrivaled beauty, you don’t helplessly pine after her.

and she absolutely hates that about you.

hancock’s not someone who’s used to being treated like a regular person, and yet that’s what you do to her. you barely hold any reverence for her, give her the minimal amount of respect owed as a citizen of amazon lily, and you don’t flinch when she threatens you publicly. most are afraid to be associated with you, out of fear for incurring the snake princess’ wrath — not that you care, you’ve known that your personality can’t be tolerated by most because you tend to happily go against the grain.

you’ve always found her beauty to be intense and intoxicating — imposing like the sun, forcing a heat to surge through you that has yet to dissipate. you hate that your attraction to her impedes your daily life, especially when you’re plagued by dueling thoughts of her and your ex. you’re barred from entering the palace, and you’re thankful for it as you don’t know how you’d be able to face hancock after all that you’ve said. you know that you should apologize profusely, but a woman like hancock requires something extravagant and elaborate — something that’ll prove that your adoration and loyalty is genuine and not forced.

the first few days are relatively easy; you work tirelessly to keep your mind and body busy, and you’re so exhausted by the end of the day that you sleep without dreaming. when a week passes, you start to notice that certain things are off; you didn’t make it a habit of frequenting the palace that often, but you were there enough that the staff didn’t give you a hard time when you showed up unannounced. you tell yourself that distance is good — it means you’ll be able to finally focus on the things that are important to you.

but, when you sit and think about it, you’re not quite sure if that’s entirely true.

after the second week, you start getting antsy. your friends keep pestering you, asking why your mood keeps shifting day to day — you’re intolerable and grouchy, snap at minor things and make mistakes all day. your heart, as tired and as worn out as it is, still skips a beat when you think about hancock despite what you try to tell yourself when you’re alone. somehow, you’ve convinced yourself that the only reason why you’re thinking about her, is because you miss fucking her.

the lie is tough to digest, but you keep repeating it and sooner or later you’ll believe it, right?

soon, everything reminds you of her.

on a warm night, a small festival is held, and you wander around listless and slightly tipsy. memories of the first time you met boa hancock — outside of all the fanfare that her royal title awards her — plague you relentlessly. you remember the warmth from that night, similar to this one; you remember how highly oppressive and unbearable the humidity was; and you also remember that you were on your third drink when you unceremoniously bumped into the pirate empress.

at first, her sisters demanded you apologize, but you were annoyed and had just been dumped so you chose audacity instead.

hancock’s irritation was evident, despite her not saying much — and it wasn’t until your rambling struck a nerve that she fired back. it was the first time he’d let her walls down, and her sisters watched in shock as both of you went back and forth over nothing. hancock called you all sorts of terrible names, and you sneered and laughed in her face. the fact that you weren’t cowering in fear or salivating over her beauty set her skin on fire in a way she didn’t understand.

you remember her dismissing the other gorgon sisters, insisting that she’d be able to handle you on her own. and she did, in a way. if anyone were to ask her about that time, hancock would easily admit that she regrets meeting you that night — but it would be a lie. the only thing she regrets is allowing you to infiltrate her heart, to settle without permission, to make her feel less than when she knew she was anything but.

her brattiness is unappealing on the surface and you normally wouldn’t be attracted to a woman who boldly wears such an ugly personality with pride. somehow, hancock has made the trait endearing to you, in a strange way; she’s so unapologetic with her behavior, that you find it rather comical. why people take her seriously is beyond you.

but, despite all of that, you do miss her.

you miss seeing the way her nose would scrunch and wrinkle when she was disgusted with something insignificant and minute; you miss kissing her in the middle of arguments and watching her easily melt underneath your touch; but you mostly miss hearing her complain about your lack of etiquette, about how odd she finds your views on the world, and about how you see her more clearly than anyone else on the island.

that sort of vulnerability terrifies her, and it’s why she’s been so miserable without you.

her sisters pay you a visit one morning and implore you to talk some sense into hancock. they tell you about how her temper tantrums have gotten uncontrollable (even for them) and how she barely eats or bothers leaving the palace these days. that bit surprises you, as hancock thrives off the validation from the populace. at first you mean to refuse them, but when you take note of how marigold anxiously fidgets with the gold bracelet around her wrist and the way sandersonia has dark circles under her eyes, you give in.

after taking a long, long soak in the bath, hancock pads back to her room naked, deciding to keep the windows open so she can air dry properly. you find her shortly after, out of breath from running over to the palace; she didn’t lock her door — and why should she? she’s the empress, after all — so you enter her room with ease. because she’s been so out of it lately, she’s been sluggish in her reactions to certain things; especially since she hasn’t stopped thinking about you.

with the door shut and locked behind you, hancock’s mind clears a bit; she blinks slowly, her dark eyes honed on you, taking in your thick thighs and toned body. as usual, hancock’s face only features an impassive expression, and she keeps her tone flat when she addresses you.

“why the hell are you in my bedroom?” she grabs the silk robe that’s draped over her mattress and puts it on in a rush.

before you can answer her or move closer, she picks up a large pillow and chucks it at you in the hopes that you’ll get the hint and leave her alone. you sidestep the attack, lips pressed together as you hold back a laugh; she can’t honestly think that a pillow will stop you, can she? hancock keeps throwing things, anything within her reach that isn’t nailed down to the floor or wall. you try to reason with her, try to make your way closer, but stop when you see the way her lips quiver.

she keeps fumbling with tying her robe properly, keeps looking down at her trembling fingers — the same ones that have tugged on your hair more times than you can count — but still she won’t say anything else to you.

after a minute, hancock manages to compose herself once again, her lips pressed tightly together as she fights the urge to berate herself for looking weak in front of you — as if you care about any of that. your silence compels her to swiftly make her way towards you, long legs shimmering in the sunlight, captivating you so much that you forget you’re supposed to be angry with her.

“look at you,” she stands tall, her pride giving her the confidence she needs to verbally tear you apart. “you’ve come begging for my forgiveness, right?” she doesn’t wait for you to respond and simply flips her hair over her shoulder before continuing. it’s all she can do to keep her composure around you; she knows if she gives you even a fraction of an inch, you’ll take a whole damn mile. “i should have you gutted for entering the palace without permission. you should know your damn place.” while her words are harsh, her delivery doesn’t quite match the expression on her face. maybe it’s because you haven’t taken your eyes off of her since you entered her room; or, maybe it’s because she’s standing much closer than necessary but can’t physically move herself away.

did you cast a spell on her without her knowledge?

while her eyes do narrow at that possibility, she highly doubts that you could, as there’s no one on amazon lily that doesn’t succumb to her treacherous beauty. but you continue to defy her expectations and you never know when to quit. which is why she just wants to grab you by the neck and toss you out the window; maybe if she actually kills you this time, she’ll be done with you forever.

except, she could never bring herself to harm you — not really. so she continues with her rant, reminding you that you’re beneath her, that you should be happy someone like her gave you any attention at all, but the more she talks, the more you want her to just shut the hell up.

“you’re right,” you say, cutting her off without remorse or any regards for your own safety, “and i deserve all of that,” and possibly more, but you don’t add that bit in. it becomes a little difficult to focus, what with hancock watching you with a different kind of intensity than you’re used to. “i… should’ve just explained myself properly before. but, more importantly,” you decide to take a risk and gently grab her by the hips.

silence wraps around her, blending into her thoughts, warping her perception of everything that’s happening. your hand is warm — much too warm, hot almost; she can feel the heat through the flimsy fabric as she presses her body closer to yours. whatever it is you want to tell her doesn’t matter — maybe she’ll pester you about it all later, but right now all she wants is you.

so, you give in and allow yourself to be more selfish than usual.

when your lips brush against hers, she completely comes alive — the longing you both felt for weeks, the irritation and unsaid words, they all prompt her to wrap her arms around your neck. it’s something short of a loving embrace, but you know better. your kiss goes from slow and tender to something much more fevered and enthusiastic; her lips are soft and supple, wholly inviting and terribly mesmerizing. you back her against the wall as she threads her fingers through your hair, tugging on it roughly, her patience practically nonexistent from all her wanting. you laugh at her in between kisses, breath warm against her skin — a feat that simultaneously annoys and arouses her — and remind her to play nice.

when she tugs on your hair again, you bite her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, but run your tongue along the miniature wound to soothe the sting. she inhales sharply, the pain not noticeable, but the way you suck on her lip makes her head spin while also leaving her breathless.

a woman like hancock doesn’t beg, but when you grab her ass roughly — aggressive, yet completely undoing — she lets out a whimper so pathetic she’s almost ashamed of herself.

she should slap you, but all she does is roll her hips forward once you spread her legs and run your fingers against her folds. in a fit of desperation, to excuse her reactions, she tells herself that it’s because she hasn’t been touched in so long — but deep down she knows the truth; she knows it’s because there’s no one else she’d rather have here with her, and that is a terrifying revelation. still, she’s very receptive to your touch, her back arching as soon as you spread her with your fingers.

her arousal drips down slowly, and while you’d love to take your time with her, you also know that if you don’t hurry up you might actually lose your mind. you trail kisses down the length of her neck, and hancock presses her lips together to keep from making any more embarrassing noises. it’s ridiculous the way her body can easily be commanded by you without much effort; she wants to hate you for leading her down this path, but she can’t ever bring herself to do so.

love makes people incredibly foolish and tender indeed.

“that won’t do,” you remark lightly, gliding your fingers back and forth, barely grazing her clit. her breathing stops momentarily when you open her robe completely and drop to your knees in front of her. “why are you holding back?” you don’t ask her because you actually want the answer; you ask because you know it’ll annoy her greatly.

you tease her entrance with your fingers and a shiver fires through her entire body; with her lips parted, you strain your ears a bit, but you hear through her all of her light panting, her softly saying please, please, please. she’s trying so hard to hold it together, and you commend her for her efforts by inching your fingers inside of her slowly. hancock’s façade finally shatters, and you hear her moan audibly as you plunge your fingers in and out of her pussy. you love the way she clenches around your fingers — warm and tight, soft in a way that just doesn’t make sense to you — and the way she moves her hips once your tongue playfully swirls around her clit.

you drape her long, shapely leg over your shoulder and scissor your fingers inside of her pussy; you hum against her skin, thoroughly enjoying the way her chest heaves and how she can’t seem to stop moaning your name.

if only she was always this compliant.

a heat passes through your body as her nails rake against your scalp, and if you weren’t so hellbent keeping her steady, she’d probably fall over by now. you eat her pussy with vigor, swapping your fingers for your tongue; you thrust it inside without remorse, and she quickly becomes a whimpering mess as she chants “yes, yes, yes.” you mean to tell her to keep it down, but a part of you also enjoys it when she lets go and gives into her desires. you don’t want to get caught, but the thrill of it incites you to lap at her pussy — greedy and eager, as if it’s the most savory meal you’ve ever had. her wetness drips down your chin, glistening along your lips but you don’t stop.

she watches you in a trance, unsure if she’ll ever be able to let you go after this. possessive by nature, hancock never thought she’d find herself in this sort of position, but there she is, completely under your spell. every swipe of your tongue brings her closer and closer to the edge — a dangerous dance that she does without thinking. she brings her free hand to cup and knead one of her breasts — hefty and round, moaning repeatedly, voice already straining as she shamelessly rides your face.

you love it, though and when you suck on her clit roughly, lightning wraps around her veins, time slowing down around her, causing her vision to blur. she’s so wound up, that the orgasm takes her completely by surprise — her hips buck wildly and you hold her firmly as you work your fingers back into her pussy. you pull away just to give her a haughty look — one that she catches by accident through her tear-stained lashes — voice low and husky as you continue teasing her. “you’re doing so good,” you lick her clit hard enough to have her eyes roll back, “do you trust me?”

it's not fair of you to ask her genuine questions right now, but you need to know.

hancock swallows hard, unable to think properly, but answers without hesitation: “y-yes.”

her voice is sweet, much more demure than you’re used to; your heart suddenly feels much too big for your chest, the beats growing louder and thunderous; a dangerous combination when coupled with your cowardice. but you know better than to cower away, so you muster the courage to quietly respond with, “good, i’m glad.”

you’re not sure why you ask her that, but you keep thinking about it when you have her naked on her bed with her hands bound above her. thanks to you, her normally blemish-free skin is littered with bite marks and dark red bruises — small and harmless, but you do feel a sliver of remorse when you realize she’ll have to cover herself up for a bit when she’s outside of the palace. you tell her she’s a masterpiece worthy of exhibition, and she tells you that you’re insolent for stating the obvious.

she’s so beautiful and vulnerable in this position — flushed cheeks, tears in her eyes, legs shaking as they’re spread wide for you; her pussy is swollen after you slapped it a few times when she gave you lip a few minutes ago. out of habit, hancock wants to run her mouth again when you hover over her, but her words never come out. she looks up at you, silently wondering why you keep coming back to her. the melancholy that accompanies those thoughts is heavy enough to make her want to cry, so she ignores it. she wraps her legs around you as you rock your hips against hers, cunt still dripping — eager and inviting.

fucking hancock is like being trapped in a feverish dream, one where you fall over and over, unable to predict if you’ll survive in the end. it’s an unending maelstrom — powerful and unpredictable, wild, and all-consuming. sweat pools at your temples, but you don’t slow down until you wrench another orgasm out of her. her voice grows hoarse, and she claws at your chest; you lick the tears off her cheeks and kiss her in a way that deludes her into thinking that she’s your one and only.

when you finally cum, it’s with her name on your lips. your hips stutter and your breath is uneven — for you, your pleasure comes mostly from watching her unravel underneath you. hancock never lets you stay over, but she’s surprisingly soft with you afterwards, even letting you run your fingers through her silky, ink-black hair.

the intimacy scares both of you, but you can’t stop yourself from touching her like that. and even though you’re both sticky and sweaty, skin burning in a way that doesn’t make sense, you still stay close to one another.

she opens her mouth several times, the compulsion to curse you out for driving her mad grows weaker as time passes. she watches you fall asleep and she admires your features without restraint. she refuses to tell you that you’re much more attractive than she’d like you to be; she’d rather you be hideous with a shitty personality, but that’s not the case, is it? she’s hopelessly enamored with you, and you with her.

nothing will ever be perfect between the two of you, but you don’t need perfection or superficiality — not with her; you like dealing with the true, raw version of herself. there will be a moment — not now, but in the near future — where you’ll be brave enough to finish your confession; but for now, you keep it to yourself, tucked safely away in your heart, and enjoy the way your limbs are tangled with hers.

#*cries softly*#i am finished!!! finally #fic request #500+ followers event #milestone event #🍭✨🍨sticky & sweet event🧁✨🍭#one piece smut #one piece angst #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #boa hancock #boa hancock x reader #boa hancock x y/n #boa hancock smut #hancock x reader #hancock x y/n #one piece imagine

168 notes · View notes