#forcing me to wear those UGLY ASS SHORTS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sleepyangelkami · 4 months

Note

hey, I want to request a long one shot about ellie x cheerleader!reader, but ellie is like a type of emo? idk, she just use very dark clothes, accessories and she's grumpy, meanwhile the reader is the opposite, she is popular and social (she's not mean). strangers to very close friends (also about the social rejection that Ellie had). and it ends with rough smut (lmao sorry, I'm begging)

FUCK THE CHEERLEADERS e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 7.8K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - for as long as ellie's known she's hated just about everything and everyone. she hated the school she went to and the people in it. and she hated those prissy cheerleaders. what happens when one of them starts changing her mind?

☆ WARNINGS - slight abby anderson x reader (briefly mentioned), smut, slowburn, dom!ellie, sub!reader, mean!ellie, manhandling, fingering (r. receiving), oral (e. receiving), scissoring, squirting, rough sex, slight loser!ellie, praise kink, overstimulation, dirty talk (mmm), jealousy sex, slight innocent!reader?, swearing, smoking, getting high, lowk bullying, ellie is an abby!hater (i'm sorry.), homophobia, petnames, use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

ellie williams hated just about everything in the world, it seemed. it was as if a scowl had been engraved on her brows as she walked through the halls of the school. she hated a lot of things, she hated this school. but more importantly, those damn cliches. those jocks and their stupid cheerleaders hanging underneath their arms, it made ellie sick, it made her scowl deepen.

it wasn't unusual for ellie to be clad in her black beanie, black hoodie and black ripped jeans. what could she say? she liked black. with her sketchbook sitting underneath her arm and her backpack hanging from one shoulder, she managed to make her way towards the east end of the school, where her ugly red locker lay. "why the long face?"

the voice had belonged to dina woodward who stood next to jesse (does this man have a last name?) they were both hand in hand next to ellie's locker. the three had lockers next to one another, had since freshman year. the two may have been the only two people ellie tolerated at all. they were her best friends. even so, she found herself scowling at the way their hands were intertwined.

"stupid fucking cheerleaders." already, jesse was rolling his eyes while the girl forced her locker open, this wasn't the first time he's heard that. "thinkin' they run the school, give me a break with their fucking pom poms and the skirts up their asses―"

"we get it ellie." jesse rolled his eyes, shutting his locker door. "what'd they do this time?"

ellie hated the jocks enough but she knew that at least they took pride in being assholes. but the cheerleaders? they walked around school with no consequences, wearing a sugar coated smile that made them look like nothing short of angels. they hid behind the facade of being good people. at least the jocks could admit they were dickheads. the cheerleaders pretended to be something they weren't. and for some reason, it made ellie hate them even more. "what do they ever do." she mumbled. "'here's lessie williams on!' 'draw anything new today williams!' 'let us see inside your sketchbook williams!'" she fawned a high pitch voice. "Like god! it was freshman year can't anyone get over it!"

dina and jesse were conscious of the couple people that had turned their heads to look at them but they knew that one sharp glare from ellie and they'd turn away again.

you see, in freshman year nobody really knew ellie. sure, they knew her but they didn't know her. she was quiet, always sat in the back of the classroom, always scribbling something down on a piece of paper or in her sketchbook. the one thing that brought her joy, the one thing she actually enjoyed doing was drawing.

and they ripped it away from her.

stupid stephanie meadows, who, in all her glory, decided to rip the sketchbook out of her hands and show the rest of the cheerleaders what the girl had been drawing. she had meant it as harmless teasing, ellie was sure. but the girl just so happened to be drawing some... female anatomy.

then birthed the name lessie williams.

she hated those damned cheerleaders ever since.

"i'm really sorry, ellie." jesse wore a sympathetic look as his brows furrowed lightly. there really wasn't anything they could do. they would stand up for her but that'd only drag them down. ellie understood this, she didn't expect anything from them. "that sucks."

but ellie didn't respond to his sympathy or his pity, merely slamming the locker door shut. "man, fuck the cheerleaders." her infamous catchphrase. she wore it out, used it every single time those damned cheerleaders were around. every time, there was venom laced in her voice. she didn't just hate them, she loathed them entirely.

but as soon as the venomous words slipped from her mouth, there was a sound of honey laughter that invaded her ears. "hi, dina!" there you stood, a sweet smile attached to your lips as you passed the three. you had two maybe three folders tucked in your arms, light purples and pinks with your name in big writing. y/n l/n.

"hi, y/n." it was merely a greeting in passing but ellie's blood boiled. her eyes fell on your outfit. your cheerleader outfit. the outfit was black and white, long sleeved but tight, showing off all of your curves and giving you all the attention that you didn't want. your skirt was short, too short, flimsy material showing ellie all that she shouldn't see. you had a light pink bow sitting at the top of your half up half down ponytail, curled hair falling behind your back. the colour of the bow matched your cheer leading shoes which were white but had pink stripes through them along with your baby pink leg warmers. you were the only cheerleader with a bit of colour.

you left ellie's sight as soon as you came, she turned to dina with a look of poison in her eye. "what? are you guys friends now? you gonna join the cheer squad?"

jesse took a step back, muttering something about not getting involved. he was well aware of what happened last time. ellie's wrath was not something you wanted to get involved with. "no, ellie, i'm not going to join the cheer squad." dina was rolling her eyes over the stupid encounter. "she happens to sit next to me in biology and i was saying hello."

"yeah, to y/n fucking l/n." everyone knew who you were, the prissy cheerleader who always wore smiles for everyone she met. often times being tucked under the arm of the captain of the girl's soccer team, abby anderson.

dina wasn't having it. "she's never actually said anything to you, ellie, she's never even been there when it happened and i'm sure if she was, she'd say something about it. she's really nice once you give her a shot."

ellie could have laughed in dina's face. "you're kidding." she was a cheerleader. "they're the same, every single one of them." and could you blame the girl for being so defensive? after all, it was her that got the horrid bullying and harrasment for so many years, not dina, not jesse, ellie. they didn't know what it was like to be in that ring of fire, they hadn't the slightest idea. "you know what, fuck this, i'm going to class."

dina was rolling her eyes. "ellie!" but the girl didn't turn around, holding her bag and her sketchbook close. "ellie, c'mon, don't be like this!" but she never spared her a glance.

jesse puffed out a breath. "just leave her." he mumbled to the girl next to him. "she'll be back."

and she was back. she was back before lunchtime. you see, that was the thing about having little to no friends. for ellie, dina and jesse, it didn't matter what was going on. whether dina was arguing with ellie, whether jesse and ellie were in a scuffle, whether dina and jesse were on their hundredth break. truth was, they only really had eachother. so, no matter what was happening, their lunch times were spent together at their separate round table in the cafeteria.

ellie was picking at her food when she saw her again. when she saw you.

you were walking up to their table sort of nervously, toying with your sleeves. ellie's expression immediately faltered. "is she walking over here?" dina and jesse looked up, glancing to you who had so many eyes on you. ellie could see the table of jocks and cheerleaders all staring at you, they simply couldn't take their eyes away. "she better not be fucking walking over here, she's not sitting―"

"ellie." dina whispered harshly as she shoved her foot forward, hitting ellie square in the calf. she winced, holding in the pained cringe.

"uhm, hi." you glanced back to the group of cheerleaders that were all staring. sometimes, you wished to be invisible, it was like there were always people watching. you felt like an actor on a stage and constantly having an audience. "dina, i was wondering if i could talk to you."

when you'd uttered the words, you sort of assumed dina would get up and walk with you. at least you hoped she would. you got the feeling that her friend didn't like you, the death stares she was throwing you, the glares that were burning into your head. not that you understood, though, you didn't even know her name.

"yeah, sure." she shoved to the side, allowing room for you to sit down. you awkwardly looked at the spot between her and her brunette friend wearing a black hat. the girl had looked away since you brought yourself over to the table. "guys this is y/n." she introduced as if they hadn't known who you were anyway. "y/n, this is jesse." he gave a smile to you to which you couldn't help but smile back softly. "and... ellie." she didn't lift her head. "ellie." she kicked her underneath the table once more.

ellie lifted her eyes, sending a glare your way before turning her head back down. you frowned but kept quiet. you didn't understand why the girl didn't like you but who were you to judge, you can't change how someone feels about you. besides, she didn't know you, you still had time to get her to warm up to you. perhaps she was like that with everyone.

in a way, she was.

"I was wondering if i could borrow your biology notes again over the weekend?" you had hopeful eyes, a little sympathy in them. "i'm sorry, i know i've asked like three weeks in a row now, i just really need to get this done." you had been attempting to rewrite all of your notes since the start of the year, you had realised how much you'd fallen behind in biology after you took cheerleading a bit too seriously.

dina waved you off, a big smile stretched on her lips. "yeah, no worries, you can drop by saturday?"

you grinned up at the girl. "yeah, i'll swing by after practice." practice. ellie could feel another eye roll coming on. "thank you so much." you began getting up from your seat next to the girls.

there wasn't much room, your leg brushed against ellie. you expected her to retract with a hiss as if you'd burned her, as if you were carrying a plague. instead, she froze. she didn't look disgusted, nor did she look happy, she didn't look much of... anything. she just froze.

in ellie's mind, she was cursing herself. if another pretty girl had brushed up against her, she would have smirked and leaned into it. she was cursing herself because she almost had. for a second, she forgot who you were. she forgot that the only reason she could feel the smooth skin of your leg was because of that stupid uniform.

"it was nice meeting you both." you smiled, mostly to ellie. you thought if you showed off your pearly whites she may see that you mean no harm.

when she didn't look up again, you sighed before leaving. what was so wrong with you that the girl hated you so much?

𝜗𝜚

ellie didn't need a fucking math tutor.

that's what she'd been telling herself for the past thirty minutes. she had been in her car, a rusted up van given to her by joel, passed down onto her. mr. gray had told her that she was flunking math and with the grades she was getting, if she kept them up he'd have to choice but to hold her back.

she couldn't risk that. so, he got her a tutor. at first, she got angry, stating that there was no need, she didn't need a tutor. she'd figure something out by herself. maybe jesse or dina could help her? but the man assured her that even they were only a mere average. he'd arranged a date for the first tutoring session at the local coffee shop, he stated that the tutor was the smartest kid he had ever taught. at least in math.

when she heard that you were her tutor, she downright flipped out.

yet, here she was in her van, stuffing the text books that lay on the seat back into the bag and opening the door. she couldn't afford to stay back, she'd have to make it work.

even if that meant you becoming her tutor.

she could imagine it now. you'd run thirty minutes late and be sat in the front of a fancy car, a porsche or something and you'd sit her in the darkest corner of the coffee shop.

yet, as she walked in, ten minutes early, you were already sat there. you were clad in a light jeans and a large woollen sweater, an off white, kind of brown. it was odd not seeing you in that uniform of yours. ellie awkwardly found herself ordering a coffee, her eyes drifting off to you. you had a couple text books open, notebooks too with a glass sitting next to you, pink straw peeking out.

"uh, hi." the sound of her voice caused you to jump before turning around to see her, smiling softly. she did not return the smile, sitting herself down at the booth you were in. right next to the window, the place that received the most light in the entire coffee shop. "you're early." she commented, mumbling beneath her breath a "probably cause of the porsche."

at the sound of your honey laugh, she looked up. your smile was wide and you shook your head. "no, i took my bike." you nodded outside the window to the little turquoise bike that sat in front of the cafe, little basket sitting in the front. "left the porsche in my garage." the sound of the joke nearly had ellie's lips curling upwards. nearly. she stopped herself. "uhm, we don't have to start just yet, you know, cause we're both early."

ellie barely muttered out an "alright." before setting her books on the table.

"what're you drinking?" you questioned quizzically.

"huh?" she glanced to the coffee cup next to her.

you shrugged your shoulders. "I think you can tell a lot from a person by what they drink. mine's a frappe, no coffee." your smile was a little lopsided. "makes me too hyper. what about you?"

"coffee." she deadpanned. "black."

"that's nice." you shuffled around awkwardly at a failed attempt of soothing down your own embarrassment. "you come here often?"

"look." ellie wasn't in the mood for your chit-chat, or anyone's for that matter. but you just so happened to be the one sitting in front of her at that given moment. "we don't need to do this whole small talk thing, i'm here 'cause i'm flunking math not because i'm trying to have it on with abby anderson's little girlfriend."

your brows furrowed, a little taken aback. "I'm not her girlfriend." you mumbled. "let's just get started, then." and so you pushed the chunky text book her way.

a couple moments passed you by. it was almost complete silence as you looked over the sums ellie had done. she was strumming the pencil against the table and waiting for you to finish. when you did, you wore a sloppy grin. "you got 'em all right." you spoke, pride in your voice. "well done, they were really hard." they weren't hard, ellie knew that. they were the basic sums, the easy ones that would soon lead into all the algebra she could never understand. but you were trying. really trying.

you gave her a couple more on the next chapter, awaiting her finish as you read through your own notes. she noted the fact that you didn't take out your phone to flick through your messages, or sigh loudly looking at the clock. there wasn't any rush or pressure.

she felt her insides twist a little. perhaps she was being a bit harsh earlier. "every saturday." she mumbled catching your attention, you hummed in question. "every saturday at one o clock, i come here... to draw."

your eyes lit up a little. "you draw?" ellie's heart stuttered. you didn't know? if you didn't know she drew then could it be possible that you hadn't heard the stephanie meadows situation at all? could dina have been right when she said that you truly were different?

"uh, yeah." she murmured, too busy thinking over the situation. what was happening? "yeah, i draw."

by the end of the session, you'd learned not much more about ellie other than the fact that she really did need this tutoring. perhaps it was a good thing she had been paired with you and not someone else. you knew that if you were working with ellie, patience was required.

you were walking out the door together when the bell dinged slightly, you had to go one way to get to your bike, she had to go the other to get to her car. "ellie?" she turned, hands in her pockets and satchel sitting on her shoulder. "could i get your number?" her brows pinched together and you almost slapped yourself for the way her face scrunched up. "don't look too excited, i mean for the next tutoring session, mr. gray isn't gonna set up any more for us."

"uh, yeah." she fished into her back pocket, grabbing out a pen. "do you have a piece of paper?" You merely shoved your sleeve up, handing her your arm. she looked at you quizzingly before scribbling down the digits onto your arm. "Just... delete it after."

you pressed your lips into a thin line. "wasn't planning on keeping it."

𝜗𝜚

ellie was fucking furious.

her feet were practically stomping up the driveway of dina woodwards house as she shoved her fist against the door, harshly pounding on it.

a confused and concerned dina met her eyes soon after, she opened the door and the girl allowed herself in. "them fucking cheerleaders, dina! i'm gonna kill them! i'm gonna fucking kill them!"

"wha― ellie-" dina had seen ellie angry like this countless times, always mouthing on about those cheerleaders and how they're dead if they do something again. she never did stand up for herself.

"you know and you're the one who told me she was different!" dina looked at her with confusion laced in her eyes. "she's just another one of those fucking cunts! fuck the cheerleaders, they're all the fucking same! she's nothing but a bitch―"

"ellie!" dina had cut the girl off. ellie turned around to see you. you were standing with the biology notebook in hand while a gear bag was slung across your shoulder, dressed in your cheerleaders outfit from head to toe. the mere sight of you, of the clothes reminded ellie exactly why she hated you. all of you.

"you." she gave a sneer to the girl. "you told them where i was, didn't you?" you backed up, giving dina a confused and scared look. what was she talking about? "you told them i'd be at the fucking coffee shop and did you see what they did to my fucking car?!" outside the living room window you could see ellie's van pulled up, covered in some kind of a liquid. milk? yoghurt? coffee?

"I d-didn't―" you were backing away from ellie, confused and hurt. had she really thought you'd be behind something like that. "who―"

"who is it ever? stephanie fucking meadows, you're just like her. you know, i actually thought you might have some human decency but i was right, behind all that fucking prissiness, all the smiles and high fucking ponytails, you're all just a carbon copy of each other." you were staring at her in disbelief. "I told you i go there every saturday at one o clock, who shows up? i know you fucking told her!"

"I didn't!" was your feeble argument.

"yes you fucking did!" ellie's hands had come to the top of your arms, shoving you slightly. but she was much stronger than you were, you stumbled back lightly.

"ellie!" dina was grabbing ellie's own upper arm, dragging her away from you. "are you fucking insane?" ellie's pupils were blown wide. "if she said she didn't do it, then she didn't fucking do it, okay?"

"I'm, uhm―" your eyes looked elsewhere. "I'm gonna go, thanks dina." and you were fleeing the scene.

not seconds later did the front door burst open again, jesse running in panting. "ellie, i am so sorry." ellie and dina looked at him in confusion. "stephanie told me that if i didn't tell her where you were, she was gonna revoke my place on the soccer team and you know the coach is her dad. I didn't have any other choice."

dina was glaring at ellie, a sick look in her face. "looks like you owe someone an apology, doesn't it."

ellie was breathing through her nose.

shit.

𝜗𝜚

ellie was standing at your front door, wrapping her knuckles against it. she had this look on her face making it plain obvious that this was not something she wanted to be doing. you had your location on your phone which is the only reason ellie was able to see where you lived. and how were you going to feel when the girl that just laid hands on you showed up at your front door?

the door opened to reveal you, now dressed in a shorts and tank top. you looked at her expectingly. "uhm, yes?" she didn't miss the way you practically hid yourself behind the door.

she glanced at her own dirtied converse trying to piece together what she was going to say. "i know you didn't tell stephanie where i was." and then there was the mumble of, "I'm sorry."

you blinked at her. "you are?" you got the feeling that sorry wasn't something ellie williams said a lot. and it wasn't, the words were barely even in her vocabulary. yet here she was, apologising on your doorstep, to a cheerleader. you had the effect of making her do a lot of things she couldn't see herself doing.

"yeah." kicking one of the pebbles on the ground. "I am. i shouldn't have yelled at you and i especially shouldn't have laid hands on you." god, what had she been thinking? it was as if she was looking to start a fight with you. with you. ellie had been in a multitude of fights before. but you? nothing but a sunflower.

"It's okay." you pressed your lips into a thin line. you watched as ellie's head snapped upward. it was? "they shouldn't have done what they did to you. you were upset, i get it." you knew stephanie could be a lot of work, you were shocked when ellie had told you but at the same time, you weren't necessarily surprised.

"yeah but i took it out on you." and she shouldn't have, she really shouldn't have.

you shrugged your shoulders, a small smile stretched to your cheeks. "happens to the best of us." but ellie was sure, cheerleader or not, you were an angel in disguise.

she could have walked away then and there, she could have told you that she was thankful for your forgiveness and left. that was the plan, anyway. to leave, she didn't think she'd end up sticking around much longer. she didn't think you'd forgive her in the first place. but then she saw that pretty smile on your face, the way you didn't look at her all disgusted and scared, the look everyone else had been giving her her entire life. it was almost like you looked at her and she meant something. this is what urged the next words to leave her mouth.

"do you wanna go get ice cream?"

sitting in the back of an ice cream parlor with ellie williams was not on your saturday to do list and yet here you were, licking your vanilla ice cream. "i can't go back." the girl uttered. she'd gotten chocolate ice cream and given you a weird look, stating that you were nothing short of 'basic'. "that coffee shop was my place." she groaned, putting her head in her hands. "this is shit." the situation, she meant, the icecream was amazing.

you were squirming on your chair, wondering if you should speak your mind or keep it contained. fuck it. "you know, if you wanted..." her head looked up at you, all nervous and shy. "we could maybe come here on saturdays, you could draw, if you wanted and i could do like homework or something." you blew the air from your cheeks. "that way if someone comes in they won't give you a hard time 'cause you're with me. not that i'll tell anyone we're here."

ellie couldn't help the way her lips tugged upwards. she was staring.

"what?" you let out a breathy laugh.

she shook her head. "you're just not at all what i thought you were."

and that was how it began.

every saturday ended in you and ellie sitting in that ice cream parlor. usually, it began after practice so you were still dressed in your cheer uniform, it ended when the sky was dark and the ice cream place was closing.

you began spending an awful lot of time with ellie. sitting with her and her friends at lunch or even inviting her over some days that it was too cold or too rainy for the ice cream parlor. in doing this, you sort of pulled away from that whole 'clique' that you were in. you couldn't of been happier.

that led to now.

it was one of the days in the summer that was sort of cold so you and ellie decided against ice cream. she was sat across your bed on her stomach, doodling little things into that sketchbook of hers. "els?" she hummed, not looking up. you had called her the nickname accidentally one day but it sort of just stuck after that. "can i ask you something?"

she groaned slightly as she closed her book. "you know i hate it when you start all vague like that." you had been skipping your way over to the bed seeing as you were sitting at your desk beforehand, trying to focus on biology. oh, how you hated the subject.

you sat yourself down next to her, giving her those doey eyes. this couldn't be anything good. "I know, i'm sorry." you mumbled sheepishly. "and i know it's not exactly your thing but i was wondering if maybe you'd... you don't have to i just― if you'd like― would you want to maybe..."

ellie had to chuckle at your nervousness. you were so squeamish and shy at times. she wondered what other times you acted like this. squirmy and struggling for words. "spit it out, angel." those silly names had started a couple weeks ago when ellie 'accidently' said one just to see your reaction. but when your face turned beat red, she couldn't help but continue.

you sighed, placing your hands in your lap. "so, the last game is on saturday and you know, i'm kinda required to go and i obviously wanna spend time with you to so i was wondering if you maybe wanted to go?" scratching the back of your neck. "if they win, abby's hosting some after party at hers and you could bring dina and jesse? not that i'd leave you alone―"

ellie cut you off. "y/n." you were looking at her with those saucer eyes. "if you want me to go, i'm already there."

your lips curved up and a huge grin fell on your face. "oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!!" you slung your arms around her neck, hugging her close.

you were too close. she could feel all of you, the parts she wanted to the most. she ignored it, squeezing her eyes shut as she melted into the hug. if she had it her way, she'd be doing whatever she pleased with you. but the situation was delicate right now, she needed you to warm up to her completely. then, she'd make her move.

𝜗𝜚

ellie regretted saying yes to your offer. she hadn't regretted watching you jump around in that cheerleading outfit, giving her almost a full display of your ass. she hadn't regretted the way you looked at her every time the cheering slowed or you lost focus. there wasn't an inch of regret in her bones when you threw your arms around her at the end when the women's soccer team won their game, your body squishing against her own so she could feel everything. what she did regret though, was coming to this stupid party.

ellie was no stranger to parties, in fact she sort of liked them at times. she always found herself strung across a couch, joint sitting between her fingers.

parties usually relaxed her, allowed her to live on the edge a little.

but right now? her glare was enough to send someone six feet under.

it started out okay, with dina and jesse by her side, you excitedly clinging to her like a puppy. she liked that, the fact that you were so attached. then, as always, dina and jesse go find themselves a room. you stayed with ellie, sitting up on the couch with your knees bent, still in your little cheer costume. she'd offered you the joint to which your face scrunched up, declining the offer politely.

then abby anderson called you up.

now, ellie had sort of anticipated this. captain of the football team, captain of the cheer squad. it made sense. abby was doing her stupid speech that had ellie rolling her eyes, and smoking the joint. leave it to abby to make a party boring.

suddenly, you were under her arm.

you hadn't even been paying attention when abby grabbed you, holding your shoulder close. your eyes instantly flickered to ellie who didn't look nearly as happy as she had with you by her side. her jaw was clenched, hand fisted and eyes narrowed in on you. she brought the joint to her lips again, eyes never leaving yours as she blew the smoke out. she caught on to the way you gulped and looked away.

dare she say, she saw your thighs squeeze together.

when you returned to your seat, ellie wouldn't so much as look at you. you took this as it being time for you both to head home. ellie stated that she would drive you, as she had been the one driving here. you told her you didn't think it was so much of a good idea, she was definitely high.

but the look she turned to give you was enough to have you shrinking back, shutting your mouth.

when you got into the car, sitting in the passenger seat with your hands sitting in your lap, you couldn't help but turn your own eyes towards ellie's whose knuckles were turning white due to how hard she was holding onto the steering wheel. "els?" she didn't so much as hum your way. "are you okay?"

"'m fine." was her deadpanned response.

had you made her mad? was this all over abby? why would it be? could she be... jealous? there was no way in hell. you knew you liked ellie, that much for sure but there was no possibility of her liking you back, you knew this. you'd been so wrapped up in your own thinking that you almost missed the way she had missed the turn off to your house. "els, you missed the turn." craining your head to look at the turn as if it was going to come back.

"I know." she stated, voice still icy cold. "i'm bringing you to mine." joel was out tonight, ellie knew this meaning there was no way in hell this man would be home before two pm the following day.

when ellie opened up the big brown door for you, it occurred to you that you'd never actually been in the house. you glanced around as you felt a cold hand on the small of your back. ellie lead you towards what you assumed was her bedroom. you glanced up, she still hadn't looked at you, her eyes strained straight forward. you stopped walking causing the girl to finally snap her eyes down towards you. you moved to step in front of her. "ellie, are you sure you're okay, i―"

ellie cut you off by her lips crashing into your own.

you didn't have time to think, melting into the kiss. the girl shoved the door behind you open, keeping you in her arms as she led you inside, leaving her foot kick the door closed. she made sure you didn't fall over until your foot hit the edge of your bed where she guided your back onto her sheets.

your head was spinning, the feeling of her rough lips on yours was enough to have you weak at the knees, a feeling pooling in your panties. but you were also confused. when ellie pulled away for air, eyes viewing you and your puffy lips, you took this as your chance. "ellie, wha―"

but she cut you off with a low groan. "just stop talking." and suddenly her lips were on yours again. her hand travelled down underneath you, hands coming up to squeeze at your ass. you whimpered into her mouth, the noise going straight down to her cunt. she held back a grunt as her hand moved to your stomach, flipping up your skirt and letting her fingers travel down further. they trailed up your thighs until they found your clothed cunt, sopping and wet. "f-fuck." ellie stuttered out, she'd expected it to be a little wet, sure, but she had this kind of an effect on you? "you're ruining your cheerleaders outfit, angel." you couldn't contain yourself, hips bucking and a whine falling from your lips. holy shit. ellie wasn't going to be able to contain herself, she'd end up creaming in her pants. "get on your knees."

your big blown out eyes found her own lowly red ones. "what?" nervousness eating at your stomach.

ellie took note of the little worry laced in your eye, she knew you better than you knew yourself. "get on your knees f'me, baby." pressing a little kiss against your neck. but she realised she had been just a little too soft. "now." she spoke, sternly.

you did as you were told, eyes never leaving ellie's as you positoned yourself on the ground underneath her, slight confusion lacing your eyes, mostly excitement. your knees scratched against her old carpet, eyes doey and looking up with enlarged pupils.

ellie bent down, her legs spread in front of you as she tilted your chin up, kissing you roughly. you could feel the hunger in the kiss. "don't like abby looking at you, touching you." you could hear the venom in her voice, her tone changing as if poison had been sat underneath her tongue. "touching what's mine."

you shook your head, eyes wide. "ellie it wasn't like that, she was told to―"

"shh." ellie didn't want to hear it, she especially didn't want to keep talking about abby, not when she had a pretty cheerleader sitting on her knees for her. "jus' say you're sorry 'n put your mouth where it's useful, yeah?"

ellie grabbed your hands, guiding them up to her hips so she could stick your two thumbs down the waistband of both her jeans and her boxers. "'m sorry, els, 'm really sorry." eyes almost watery. ellie helped you pull her jeans and boxers down her legs, letting them pile around her ankles, not caring enough to take them off completely.

"then show me." she spoke, voice a mere mumble, she was trying to stay in control but it was so hard when you were so close to her core. "c'mon, you know what to do."

your hands had sat at her thighs, keeping you propped up as you mouth came close to where she needed you. you looked up at her, then back down to her sopping cunt. breathing out lowly, your breath fell onto her causing her hips to buck. your tongue peeked out of your mouth before you leaned forward, pressing a kitten lick to her cunt. she let out a grunt letting you know that she liked it, with a little confidence you did it again, and again, and again.

you heard a low chuckle through her grunts from above you. "y'so cute." she mumbled, her hand falling into your hair as she tugged it closer. you moaned against her causing vibrations throughout her body. "s-shit." she found herself bucking her hips into your mouth.

you found your tongue moving against her quickly, practically making out with her cunt as your tongue dipped itself into her hole. you didn't really know what you were doing, you were doing what you hoped was right and by the grunts and curses that were falling from her lips, something had to be good. tongue dancing in circles around her clit making her chant your name as she held onto your roots, tugging you impossibly closer.

you sucked at her clit, it caused her entire body to move. "fuck, baby, jus' like that." she bucked her hips into your face, grinding down on it. it was as if she were face fucking you, the thought didn't seem so bad. "shit, don't stop." mumbling things you weren't even paying attention to. your hips were grinding against nothing, searching for release as your tongue worked against the girl.

ellie felt euphoric. she'd dreamt of this very moment a thousand times over, you with your mouth on her. she couldn't contain herself any longer, she knew that if you kept your pace up she was going to cum.

she couldn't. not yet. not before you.

she had so much more planned.

she hadn't even registered the fact that she was pulling you up before she was practically throwing you onto the bed. her big hands messed with the plush of your hips, squishing the fat of your ass as she turned you over so your face was buried in the sheets. "did i do something wrong?" you mumbled with fear in your tone, practically muffled into her sheets.

"no, bunny, you did so well." her mouth pressed kisses against the back of your thighs. she held your ass in the air while your face was practically squished against the pillows. "too well." wet hot and sloppy kisses all against your skin. "wanna have my fun with you now." her fingers moved to your covered cunt, rubbing up and down gently, a moan fell from your lips. "feel good, hm?" she moved to sit up on her knees, towering over you as she played with your pussy from over the cloth. she leaned over you. "tell me what you want." but you merely bucked your hips back. she stopped you by pressing her hands firmly on your waist. "tell me what you want or you wont get anything."

you whimpered desperately. "ellie." the sound of her voice on your lips was enough to have her going completely mad. "need your fingers." the mumble was low and pathetic, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

she didn't move from her position. slowly, she trailed her hand back down to where your sopping cunt lay. she pulled the fabric of your cheerleaders outfit and your panties away from your pussy, sliding them across your ass as her fingers gently rubbed at your now bare cunt. "this what you want?" your hips were rolling against her fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head and incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. you didn't answer, too caught up in your own euphoria. "god, you're fucking pathetic." and nodded your head too, agreeing with her as she drew tight little circles around your clit.

you could have came by the mere stimulation of her fingers against your clit but you wanted all of her. "inside." you mumbled through your whining. "please, els."

she was rather enjoying herself too, pressing kisses on the back of your neck. "you can beg better than that." she had full faith that you could. your whining never stopped as you threw your head into the pillows, much too embarrassed. "listen to me." her mouth falling near your ear. "be a good slut and beg for my fingers or you're not getting anything."

and the way her voice sounded and the way her fingers felt never stopping their attack on your clit. how could you not? “please els, please need it so bad.” grinding your hips down on her moving fingers. “please, i’ll be good, promise i’ll be good, please ellie.”

“good girl.” ellie cooed into your ear, a smirk on her lips. she stuck two fingers inside you without warning, pumping them in and out of your dripping hole. “see? wasn’t so hard was it? ‘n now you got what you wanted.” pressing kisses against your shoulders as she continued her assault on your dripping pussy.

you babbled and whined, whimpered and begged as you felt her fingers completely undo you. they were pumping in and out of you consistently as she soaked in your every whimper, your every noise as you babbled into the sheets. even you were unaware of what you were trying to say, all you knew was that noises fell from your lips and they seemed like good ones. “ellie!” you were almost screaming her name in a chant. “‘m gonna, i can’t―”

“i know, sweetgirl.” cooing at you again. “can’t hold it?” you shook your head over and over, your hole tightening around her two fingers that plunged right back into you. “mm, let go, pretty. be a good girl ‘n cum all over my fingers.” and that was exactly what you did.

she felt you tighten around her, completely sucking in her two fingers as you gushed around her, wet and sloppily as you came undone. she kept moving her fingers, allowing you to ride it out as she pumped in and out of you, gently now that she knew you were sensitive. when you collapsed onto the bed, fucked out and tired, she finally let her fingers exit your little hole.

her eyes couldn’t help but be strained to your face, cheeks pink and eyes slightly droopy. you looked completely fucked out and she was the cause of it. pride melted inside her as she grabbed your knee, flipping you around to look up at her with those doey eyes again, pupils wide.

she wasn’t entirely done with you yet.

“can you give me another?” you weren’t responding, babbling something as she reached down to untie your little costume. she slipped it off you with ease, smirking at the fact that you hadn’t been wearing a bra. “yeah?” to your constant babbling, not a clue in her head of what you were trying to say. “know you can, pretty girl.” reaching up to grab the top of her jumper, sliding it off and tossing it somewhere across the room.

you were gawking at her, not a drip of shame inside you. eyes wide as you stared. she understood for she had been staring just as much as you had. eyes drawn to your chest as her hands came down to kneed your tits, fingers slipping over your nipple causing a moan to fall from you, arching your back up on the bed.

she just had to have her cunt on yours.

she quickly climbed atop you, watching your face that never moved, you were waiting in anticipation for what she was going to do next. when she lowered herself onto your cunt, you couldn’t help but whimper out. even when your pussy was all sensitive, you couldn’t help but grind your hips upwards. the best part? she hadn’t even started moving yet.

“fuck.” she breathed out, feeling your clit rub against hers. “jus’ slow down, alright?” chuckling at your nodding. “gonna give you what you wan’t. jus’ gotta… jus’ need to…” but she cut herself off, unable to keep talking as her eyes rolled, a moan falling from her lips. the way you rolled your hips against hers, the way her clit bumped off your own, she couldn’t keep up.

her hands moved to sit up against you, she needed to take some sort of control. she moved upright, grinding her hips down to meet yours. her movements were much quicker than yours, a little desperate as she felt your clit constantly on hers. she couldn’t help the low groan that fell from her lips. “els!” you were a moaning, blabbering mess, back arched against the bed and eyes screwed shut. “feels so good, els, feels―” cutting yourself off with yet another whine.

ellie’s eyes were on yours, watching as your face twisted and contorted in pleasure. It drove her to hump her hips quicker, bouncing and bumping clit to clit. “good girl.” her own breath shaking. “takin’ it so well, my good girl.”

the way the words fell from your lips had your stomach twisting in knots for the second time that evening. this time, you could barely hold yourself. “ellie!” you couldn’t even get the words out, all you could feel and see was pleasure, all you could think was ellie.

ellie knew what you were trying to say, merely grunting as she found her own stomach pooling with that feeling. “yeah?” her head in your neck as she moved her hips against you so quickly, grinding down so fast, you could see stars. “you gonna cum all over me?” there was a higher pitch to her tone, you could tell she was so close, as close as you were. “gonna cum all over me like the little slut you are, hm? my slut.”

that was all you needed.

when ellie felt it, she found her hips stuttering against you. the sputtering of liquid against her, coming from your pussy. her eyes glanced down to see you squirting all over her cunt, hips chasing you as the liquid spurted, hitting her and travelling down to your stomach. the whining and the whimpering in her ear didn’t stop.

watching you squirt all over her could only make her come as close as you had. her stomach knots unravelled as she came, her hands holding your own tightly. you both grinded against each other as you came down from your highs.

when ellie finished, watching as your legs shook, she collapsed to the other side of you, chest heaving up and down, her eyes glancing to you who was looking at the ceiling in pure shock. she couldn’t help the way her lips curved completely upwards, the biggest shit eating grin on her face.

she had fucked the cheerleader.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

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thedawningofthehour · 1 month

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You were talking about Leo being a straight dudebro in the body of a gay man (fashion wise) and tbh thats the jumping off point for me to say that whenever I picture him in human clothes he is Always wearing the classic "green triforce shirt + khaki cutoffs pants" combo every middle school boy rocked circa late 2000s early 2010s. You just know he wears those shirts that say "eat, sleep, game, repeat" and the same basketball shorts for 5 years straight. Like, I can see Mikey, Donnie, and Raph having campy and fun fashion sense and having cool elaborate outfits but like. Its not Leo if he doesn't rock a fit that screams the fanciest place he'll eat out at is Olive Garden tbh

Leo is one of those fuckbois that spends hundreds of dollars on a pair of ugly tennis shoes and then freaks out if any dirt gets on them and walks like an idiot to avoid scuffing them.

He'd wear his pants with his ass hanging out and pop his collar. He'd wear those deep v-neck shirts and birkenstocks, probably with socks.

He'd wear puka shell necklaces and shark tooths despite living in NYC and having never been surfing. If he had hair he'd absolutely have had a frosted tips phase.

Not to mention this boy reeks of axe body spray. He's one of those guys that hasn't figured out he stinks more as a teenager and substitutes spray-downs for basic hygiene. He has a twenty-product nighttime skincare routine and then he rolls out of bed and sniffs a random shirt on the floor to determine if it's suitable for another go. At least once a week he'll show up to the breakfast table and Splinter will gag and force him to take a shower.

Meanwhile Donnie is legit prancing around in heavily coordinated outfits that he seemingly threw together effortlessly and he looks like a fashion model. April sends him pictures of her prom dress choices and takes his critique as gospel. He's always invited to Girl's Night and it took Cass several get-togethers for her to even realize the irony. He and his girlfriends do their makeup together and probably get into fights over how they apply eyeliner. Somehow he is the straighter twin.

#i mean donnie is bisexual as fuck but that's still significantly straighter than leo #even if leo is bi himself he's a gayer kind of bi #some of these are before leo's time but fuck it he'd absolutely be a cringe 90s surfer boy #'the fanciest place he'll eat out at is olive garden' BRO #leonardo #donatello #disaster twins #rottmnt

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shankschewtoy · 1 year

Text

When you go out with a bad outfit on purpose

a/n - I’m getting better, just had surgery and I’m on the mend 👍

Warnings ⚠️ - none, g/n reader

knows it’s so bad but won’t say anything because they’re too nice | “uh- looks great…”

.✩ chopper, sanji, jimbei, whitebeard, marco, corazon

fashion? don’t know them | “I dunno and I don’t care y/n.”

.✩ zoro, luffy (i don’t think he could care less tbh lmao)

it’s not your outfit that looks bad, it’s theirs | “what do you mean I can’t wear socks and sandals?!”

.✩ shanks (have you seen those ugly ass pants?) roger (he’d come out with the dad sandals with knee high socks, shorts, no shirt) crocodile (alabasta was a whole different story 💀) usopp (dude you can’t wear a shirt and not wear one at the same time) buggy (I don’t have to explain)

takes one look at you and forces you to go change | “y/n don’t you dare embarrass me. You can’t wear fucking blue with bright fucking yellow.”

.✩ doffy (would buy you all these nice clothes only for you to wear that 💀)

they don’t say anything, but their looks and very discreet clues give it away | “no it looks great y/n- 😬😐💀”

.✩ sabo (y/n, do you wanna go to your favorite store today?), ace (hey babe wanna wear my hoodie? It’s kinda cold!), rayleigh (you wanna just stay inside today?..), smoker (would put his jacket over you so no one would see it 😭)

you thought you’d get away with it? no. | “honey no. This’ll flatter your shape and skin tone better. Wtf are you wearing-“

.✩ izou (man has amazing fashion sense), nami, brook (knows every single designer brand that would suit you so well), buggy (not great at deciding what to wear for himself) boa

so nice about it and will make sure you know that they can help you with choosing different outfits that look better on you | “oh y/n, here! this will look absolutely wonderful on you :)”

.✩ robin (would carry all the shopping bags and be the most supportive person ever when you’re trying stuff on 🥺), kiku, shakky, monet, brook

thinks you look amazing in everything | “looks the same as every single other one.”

.✩ zoro, luffy, oden, yamato (man thinks you’re an Angel or goddess/god)

doesn’t say anything, but the way they look at you with such disdain forces you to go change

.✩ mihawk (man would just say: “y/n no. Not today please.”) law

(doesn’t know how to help, but knows that the outfit you’re wearing sucks ass)

mf just says “ew” when he sees you

.✩ kidd (wtf y/n you look ugly asf 💀)

a/n - I love doing these :)

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me-and-your-husband · 1 year

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may i requesting a pt 2 of ellie x thick reader last one had me kicking and swinging my feet while twirling my hair 0____0

fuck yeahhh here we go. this is a little more modern than the last one

warnings: smut, dirty talk, reader is thick, thigh riding, strap, sex toys, oral, kinda switch ellie, language, ellie is a bit feral (once again)

as stated before, she'd absolutely DIE if you sat on her face. like literally ascend to heaven.

"ellie, but what if you can't breathe?"

"i'd die a happy woman. come here."

she'd lick you out so well, hands never ever leaving your ass, fingers squeezing the soft flesh

if you were laying in bed on your stomach, she'd just lay her face right on your ass, letting out a content sigh as you look back at her like girl wtf but you eventually get used to it

if you're into wearing dresses or skirts, she would literally start drooling immediately. she'd be taking you out on a date and you come out dressed in this cute little sun dress, so short your ass was almost peaking out. she was almost BEGGING for the wind to pick up just so she could get a view of "that sweet, sweet ass", as she liked to call it

if you were taking her strap (i think we've all collectively decided it's purple), she'd always want to give it to you in doggy so she could watch your ass jiggle and spread as she pounded into you, feeling the juicy flesh of it slapping into the top of her thighs

you'd literally be getting in the shower the next day, walking past the mirror and noticing the bruises in the shape of her hands on your ass from her death grip on them the night before

you couldn't even get mad at her tho. it just made her blush when you showed her

"what can i say? love your ass."

however, if she was taking your strap, she'd literally fall apart if you gave it to her in missionary. this way, she can still kinda see your ass bounce as you pound into her.

her ABSOLUTE fav tho? when you you ride her in front of a mirror. she'd be facing the mirror and you'd be sat on her lap. she'd have a perfect view of your ass bouncing on her through the mirror, also being able to bury her face in your tits, play with them, watch you come undone, your watch where her strap/fingers disappeared in your pussy

probably has you in her phone as "favourite piece of ass 4ever" cause she thinks it's funny (you don't find it that funny)

she's a MENACE in dressing rooms. since ur both girls and most retail workers would probably just assume you're typical girls who need to show each other shit before they buy it, she literally follows you into EVERY SINGLE change room. she's not subtle about it either. girl barely ever goes shopping for herself unless you go with her and force her, so she's mostly just watching you try on stuff. in this scenario, you're shopping for a new bathing suit and she's sat on that little stool or bench in the corner, manspreading, unashamedly staring at you as you change.

when you end up inspecting this thong-style bikini bottom in the mirror, ellie says "y'know you can't get that, right?"

your brows furrow. "why?"

"if you wear that out, i'll be bending you over one of those ugly lawn chairs before you can even get in the pool."

"ellie!"

she'd just laugh, then go, "turn around. i want another picture of that ass."

let's just say you absolutely cannot ever go biking with her. the first (and only) time you went, she crashed into a tree cause she was so focused on your ass on that tiny little seat in those tiny little shorts when a squirrel or something ran in front of her. she veered to miss it and flipped the entire bike into a tree.

you could barely sit in peace. she'd literally just slot herself behind you and sit you between her legs, her hands coming to rest on your ass

she'd constantly be trying to make you squirt. not really relevant but

don't tell me she wouldn't pretend to fuck you from behind when you bend over to grab something like a teenage boy because she totally would don't lie

sometimes when you're cuddling, she'll just stick her hands between your thighs because they're so warm and squishy and she melts

you've also established that you can't go to the gym together for two reasons.

a) she thinks everyone is always staring at your ass when you wear leggings and

b) she's always staring at your ass when you wear leggings

she's probably almost started a fight multiple times over this too

"hey man! you staring at my girl's ass?"

he was a MASSIVE dude. you panicked and grabbed her by the shirt and BOOKED IT out of that gym

hand always on your thigh

no matter which one of you was driving, her hand was on your thigh

if you were wearing a dress, shorts, or a skirt, she'd constantly be kneading the bare flesh of your thigh.

she'd definitely draw little tattoos on your thighs when neither of you could sleep. she'd have this thin-tipped sharpie on the nightstand and she'd just grab it and start drawing.

sometimes she'd do it when you're sleeping. you'd wake up and there'd be a bunch of art on your thighs and your heart would swell

once, you noticed she wrote "my beautiful girl. mine forever." on your thigh and you almost started crying tbh cause i would

but mostly she writes little notes like "let's fuck when you find this" because girl is ALWAYS ready to fuck

i feel like a lot of headcanons say she loves giving, which is true, but ellie deserves some love too and she definitely deserves release

i feel like she'd be so vocal, so needy, so whiny. she'd absolutely LOVE to ride your thigh. she'd overstimulate herself grinding down on it, kissing you drunk and whimpering into your mouth. she wasn't even embarrassed when she saw the slick spot left on your plushy skin from her drooling cunt

i just know ellie likes them thick and is feral for it.

permanent taglist:

@winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs

not tagging any of my other taglists right now as i'm currently in the process of separating my tlou taglist into joel and ellie.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #tlou #the last of us #tlou 2 #the last of us 2

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hellyeahheroes · 3 months

Text

I cannot find the post now. It was pointing out how people don't realize that situations like a cis woman being attacked by TERFs who mistake her for a trans woman due to wearing short hair or the vague wording of anti-trans bill aren't side effect of transphobia campaign, but part of the purpose because conservative Christians want to discourage any and all forms of gender non-comformity. I remembered it today when I randomly remembered being told by my parson at the age of 15 that I'm comitting a grave sin by bleaching my hair blonde because I'm "arrogantly trying to correct God's decision". And how my mother basically draggd me by force to dye my hair back to some ugly ass brown because she treated me as extension of herself and any comment about my appearance in her Christian circles was negatively reflecting on her. Just an example of how ridiculous those people can be. Felt it may add to that conversation but I cannot find the post. Too bad.

-Admin

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insertdragonpun · 1 month

Text

⚠️⚠️WARNING⚠️⚠️

This post contains graphic descriptions of violence and gore. If it isn't your thing, or if it's triggering, please mute the tag "apocalyptic comic idea" all of these posts tagged with this will contain violence and gore.

This post will also contain child death, graphic descriptions of injury, social isolation, minor body horror, and burning people. Everything will be surrounded by danger triangles if you wish to still read this post.

I swear in everything, and this post is no exception. I do not and will not say slurs.

You have been warned

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

Meet the twins Magnus and Ember! They are highschool freshmen and are ready to kick ass!

They live in an okay neighborhood. It's near a hospital since their mom is always sick. The smog of the city isn't good for a woman with shitty lungs, now is it? Their dad is absent, sending money to help pay for their mom's medical bills, but he isn't in the teens' lives at all.

Speaking of medical bills, because this is a dystopia and I've mentioned the questionable doctors on Dim's posts, their little family is barely scraping by. The twins have a long commute to their school since it's closer to the center of the city. It's cheaper after all and they barely have enough to keep their apparetment as it is.

So every day, the twins walk a mile to the bus stop, ride it for 29 miles (the fare jumps in price once you hit 30 miles. Thanks, Dystopia City) before walking the last 30 minutes to their school. I mentioned that it is in the middle of the city right? It's gonna be so freaky having all of the students wearing gas masks while attending class. (I'm gonna render the shit out of it once I get to it. It's gonna be awesome)

Anyway, today's journey was different than usual. As Ember was playing with the lighter she stole borrowed from the creep of a gym teacher a tall woman shot past them freaking out about something.

Oh! Lore time!

So I've been thinking it over, you know how height is kinda a big thing right now? Like people hating or short dudes and tall women? What if I just multiplied that by 20?

What I mean, is that this is a futuristic world and I think it would be cool worldbuilding if people got surgery to change their height and fit the "ideal" body type. Like women cutting of inches or even feet of their height via science that works like magic and dudes added inches and feet to their height on the otherside of this freaky little coin.

Dim is roughly 6ft (because I love me a tall woman.) This is not a commonly seen height anymore since only those who can't afford it are ever their natural height. So she is crazy tall to the teens (a bit of a role model in the eye of Ember who's been told she's ugly because she's taller than the dudes their age at school.) The only other tall woman they've ever seen is their neighbor [REDACTED] who is part of the military and can get court marshaled if she ever got the shortening surgery because it makes the patient extremely disoriented because they suddenly shrunk.

So the twins are obviously gobsmacked to see this giant lady with white hair rush past them.

"The fuck was that?"

"A distraction. C'mon we're gonna miss our bus."

"Oh shit!"

They make it to school and get some classes done before everything goes to shit. It starts with their teacher pausing in her lesson while looking at her book. Then something fast flies out at attaches itself to her face. It breaks her mask and ⚠️⚠️ (gore warning skip to next danger triangles to avoid) forces itself through the broken glass and into her eye.

She screams and goes down. The kids start scream because of course they do. Suddenly the class is filled with tiny little creatures flying out of the books at attacking people. (I'm tired so this isn't gonna be super descriptive.)

Everyone is panicking a few of their friends go down and stop moving. The twins are fighting for their lives but everytime they squash one of the creatures it just pops back up like a tiny deranged zombie pixie.

The class begins to fill with red, there is broken glass everywhere from the monster breaking the students' masks. Ember steps on a few shards, the glass cutting through her old shoes like butter. She swears clutching her wounded foot. ⚠️⚠️She looks up in time to see another batch of creatures pop out of a book laying open on a desk.

She got a very good idea.

Ember grabs the closest book, and pulls out a lighter from her pocket. A few of the pixies stop staring at her.

She smiles, and lights the book on fire.

With that the pixies scream and turn into ash.

The room goes quiet for a second. The two. Then the pixies rush to Ember. She runs around the room lighting as many of the books on fire, her classmates are running from the room into the hall, a place empty of monsters (at the moment) Magnus waits at the door for his sister.

⚠️⚠️(gore warning number 2 electric boogaloo. This one has body horror focused on the eyes. Skip to the next danger triangles) The pixies have broken through her mask at this point. There is glass in her eyes and it's starting to get hard to breathe. She can feel the mask dying as the room fills with smoke. The pixies are dying too. She grabs the last book setting it aflame, but just as she does pixies charge her eyes.

Their tiny hands scratch and claw. Digging deep into her sclera. An arm reaches into her pupil destroying the delicate nerves, sending waves of pain down her face. Her tears are turning red. The world has gone dark.⚠️⚠️

She stumbles forward into her brother's arms. Everything hurts and she can't see a thing. She's pretty sure he crying; pretty sure she's crying too.

Their classmates rush as a group to the next room down, ducking in when they hear shouts from the stairs.

The room is deathly quiet. Before small groups split off and talk in quiet tones.

Soon the quiet tones turned to silence filled with only quiet groans of pain and the sound of the door clicking closed. Everyone able left. Only the twins and the wounded remained.

"Hey Em. There's a screen in front of you." Magnus holds his sister tightly, there is so much blood running down her face.

"Yeah? What does it say?" She pulls them both to the ground, her head is starting to feel light.

"Uh. 'Congratulations, player! You have completed the tutorial!' What? 'Please wait while we develop your character based on your actions' it has a smiley face after actions. What the fuck is this?"

"You sure you're not hallucinating Mag? Pretty sure that should be me, with the blood loss and all." Fuck she feels really faint now. What the hell.

"I don't know. There was more to it but it just vanished before I could read it."

"Em?"

"What?"

"Holy fuck I thought you were dead."

"Too bad, you're not getting rid of me that easy."

"Hilarious. You still got that lighter on you?"

"Yeah." She held up her hand, arm shaking as if she was holding up the sky and not just a tiny lighter.

"I'm gonna see if I can cauerize some of the wounds here. Then we can head out after the rest of the class maybe."

"Dude what?"

"There isn't any sort of first aid kit in here Em. I need to do something, they're dying. You're dying."

"I'm not dying."

"And neither are they if I can help it. It would be better if we had some silver nitrate, but Im gonna have to do something. The weird fairy things were small, and so are the wounds. There's just a lot of them."

"I ain't stopping you, just don't be upset of the fire makes it worse."

So Magnus went around the room trying to cauterize wounds if he could, bandage the ones he couldn't with whatever he could. It would all have to be checked over by a professional eventually, but at least it kept the blood in?

[Congratulations, player! You have completed the tutorial! Please wait while we develop your character based on your actions :) NOTE: YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO ATTACKS WHILE YOU WAIT. ANY ACTIONS AFTER THIS MESSAGE WILL NOT COUNT TOWARDS YOUR CHARACTER. ]

"Huh."

"What?"

"I just got the blue screen."

"Weir-" before she could finish the word, she started screaming. It raked at Magnus's ears, clawing at his heart.

"Em! Em please!"

⚠️⚠️(body horror time! Skip to the next danger triangles.)He could only watch in horror as his sister writhed in pain. Chunks of metal forcing their way through her skin coated in red droplets that fell from the surface like water sliding off of oil. She screamed as it pushed against her clothes, crying as two new eyes formed in her sockets. Attaching wires to nerves forcing the last of her original eyes out of the sockets. ⚠️⚠️

Magnus threw up.

(For those that want to know Ember is a cyborg mage.)

"Mag?"

"Maggie?"

Magnus looked up from his spot on the floor to see her. Her uniform was replaced by a set of robes falling of her shoulders. (I'll draw it eventually.)

"Em?"

"Yeah."

"Holy fuck. You okay?"

"I... it doesn't hurt anymore. You got a screen too right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want my hand when it does... this to you?"

"Please."

[Congratulations on surviving after the tutorial! All creatures you have destroyed will now be turned into skill points! NOTE: SKILL POINTS WILL ONLY BE ACCESSIBLE IN SHELTERS AND NEUTRAL ZONES. Your character has been decided! Welcome to the game, Cyborg Cleric, Magnus!]

Okay I ain't describing that again. Kinda the same thing except where the metal on the face is placed.

Time to talk about some fun stuff!

Why cyborg? Well, everytime someone uses some sort of technology to take down monsters it makes the game consider them a cyborg. It will also make their robo parts more based on what they used. In the pic it shows that Ember's fire magic is more controlled than normal fire magic because she used a lighter.

Now. Clerics. So you know by now that you can either, kill a monster, or kill a person to become a player. But you can also help people! It's a very rare class, because let's be honest people are probably more worried about killing the thing that's hurting their friends before helping them.

The twins are some of my favorites in this comic. I love them so much.

#apocalyptic comic idea #art #sketch #traditional drawing #chaos and compassion #order and freedom #i love them your honor #the twins are the third youngest in the group #for reference Natasha is the second youngest.#the youngest youngest is the youngest by a month

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ilici · 3 years

Text

drunk on you.

Summary: C!Schlatt was known as the drunk who didn't care about anything besides himself. That all changed when Y/N showed up, he's never been so infatuated with something like he was with Y/N.

NSFW MINORS DNI !

Warnings: Size kink, choking, subspace, gagging, unprotected.

Word Count: 2117

Schlatt was in his office, when he heard Tubbo and Fundy's muffled voices growing closer to his office. He was in no mood for business, he was slightly buzzed from drinking more vodka. If he drank anymore, he'd be absolutely hammered, but he held himself back as he had a meeting for Manburg later that day. Hearing the knock he dreaded the most, he grunted wanting to ignore them, but once again a knock was heard this time more eager sounding. "President, we need to talk to you. It's urgent." Funny's voice ripped out into the silence, and Schlatt just glared at the shut door. Not answering, the door was swiftly opened by Tubbo, and Fundy looked at him as if he were crazy.

Tubbo walked in, his horns showing prominently after his haircut, "Hello Schlatt." Tubbo said, nonchalantly as if he's done that more times than once. Funny gave Schlatt an apologetic look, before following Tubbo inside, his orange fur popping as Schlatt's office was dark and dull. He wanted it to match his "heart" as if he even had one. So he forced Niki and Fundy to paint it, "What do you guys want?" Schlatt said, already annoyed at their presence, "We have someone new who joined Manberg, we tried to tell you yesterday but you kept yourself locked in here." Fundy explained, on edge afraid if he said one thing, the bottle of vodka that was on Schlatt's desk would be thrown at him.

Schlatt slowly looked over at the fox, as his eyes were glued on Tubbo, annoyed that he entered without permission for the eleventh time. "So? What's it to me?" He asked, and Fundy sighed, "Sir you're the president, it's mandatory for you to know if someone joins or leaves." He announced, and Schlatt just stared at him, face holding no emotions. Fundy gulped, fairly loudly, which made Tubbo glance over at him, grabbing his wrist so he would relax. "Well, who are they?" Schlatt asked, wanting this conversation to end already, "Apparently they are Sapnap's adopted sister. Dream and them went into the snow biome across here, and found her there. They took her in for a couple days, then she left and wandered into Manberg and asked if she could stay." Tubbo said, noticing how on edge Fundy was. Schlatt looked at him, "They didn't kill her on the spot?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"No, probably because she was already on the brink of death from starvation. She has amor, netherite to be exact, I've also heard from George that she is good at combat." Tubbo added on, catching Schlatt's attention. "Why didn't they just leave her there to rot?" He asked once more, and Tubbo sighed, growing annoyed at the fact that Schlatt keeps asking why they didn't let her die. "Sapnap apparently felt guilty, and wanted to take her in. I'm guessing it took a lot of persuasion, because Sapnap now has a cut down his face from which I am assuming is from Dream." He explained, "Where did you get this Information?" The president asked, and a new voice spoke up from behind Tubbo. "Me." A much softer voice said, which caught Schlatt off guard.

Schlatt wondered how he had not noticed her before, but what threw him off even more was the fact that he could not see the girl. She was behind Tubbo, and Tubbo was already very short, so how old was this girl and how short was she? "Show yourself." He said, intrigued, and a small girl, decked out in netherite stepped out from behind Tubbo. It amazed him how small she was, she had to have been an inch smaller than 5'0. "What's your name?" He asked, and Y/N looked him in the eyes, her eyes held little to no emotions, "Y/N." She said, her voice strong and confident, "How old are you?" He asked, and Y/N just looked down, as if this conversation bored her. "I'm legal, if that's what you were wondering perv." She said, noticing that Schlatt was indeed checking her out.

Schlatt chuckled at her, "Fiesty aren't we?" He said, and Y/N glared at him, her E/C piercing through his skull. "Only with old men like you." She replied, and Schlatt let out a huff of air through his nostrils, almost as if it were meant to be a laugh. "She's welcome to join Manberg." He said, and Tubbo looked down at the girl, "Come on let's go Y/N." He said grabbing her wrist, his other hand still occupied with holding Fundy's. Dragging the two out, quite literally, the other two were stumbling on their feet trying to keep up with the teenager. "Slow down." Fundy pleaded, and Tubbo finally came to a halt when they were out of the building, "Y/N you will need to take your armor off, it's sorta a rule not to wear it in Manberg." He said, and Y/N audibly sighed as she took off her amor. Once her helmet was off her H/C hair finally showed itself, her H/L blowing in the gust of wind.

"You look pretty." Fundy said, now being able to see her without the amor, "Thanks I guess?" Y/N said, not really used to compliments. Her outfit consisted of F/C shirt and jeans. Her combat boots complimented the outfit, "Well we already gave you the tour yesterday, so if you need anything, you know where to find us." Tubbo said, as the two walked to their designated areas. Y/N looked around to try and find something to do, but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming up behind her. "Hello Schlatt." Y/N said, turning her head to the side where he now stood. "How'd you know it was me?" He asked, and Y/N just looked away, "You reek of alcohol, I basically smelt you." She said, and Schlatt scoffed and looked at her side profile. Schlatt being way taller than her, made him think of very inappropriate things he could do with her. "I don't appreciate that." Y/N spoke up, and Schlatt gave her a weird look, "I can hear your thoughts. They are very loud and fairly annoying." She told him, and Schlatt just looked away.

"How can you read minds?" He asked, and Y/N looked away, "I don't want to talk about my past." She mumbled, and Schlatt just nodded looking back at her, "So tell me what I am thinking of right now. Prove me wrong, because I don't believe you." He said, and Y/N looked over at him blankly, "What happens if I don't?" She said, wanting to bother him. Schlatt smirked, "You already know." He whispered, and Y/N rolled her eyes. "You're disgusting." She said walking away from him. Schlatt chuckled watching her walk away, before he walked away to go to the meeting he was having with Quackity and George. The entire meeting, his mind was thinking about Y/N in many ways.

It's now been four months since Y/N joined Manberg, and Schlatt has been on her ass at any moment he could. Y/N couldn't deny the feelings she was growing for the overly horny man. She could hear everyone's thoughts, but Schlatt's always overpowered theirs, which annoyed her because he kept her awake during the night with his lewd thoughts. "Fuck you Schlatt." She groaned tossing and turning in her bed, trying to sleep. Currently, Schlatt was having another daydream of him ruthlessly fucking the shit out of Y/N. She mainly couldn't sleep because of how loud his thoughts were, but she also felt this itching sensation that she tried to get rid of by touching herself but she simply couldn't cum. She never could, which was causing her sexual frustration to sky rocket. Letting a frustrated scream out, she threw her pillow at the wall before she got up.

She was now wearing her night shorts, and one of Fundy's shirts that she borrowed, from three months ago. Slinging her door open, she didn't care about the cold air biting at her bare legs and feet as she stomped her way towards Schlatt's house. "You fucking horny fuck." She grumbled on her way there, and Jack, who was awake watched her angrily make her way to Schlatt's house. He silently laughed to himself, as he knew why she was going there. He's caught her doing this many other times, which they bonded over and now the two were super close. "Don't kill him." Jack slightly shouted, and Y/N just flipped him off as she continued her way towards the rather ugly birch wood house. Ripping the door open, not even caring to knock at this point she basically bolted to his room. "Schlatt you motherfucker." She said, slinging the door open, and Schlatt looked over at her.

"What seems to be the problem princess?" He asked, and Y/N glared at him, as his eyes were glued to her thighs. "I will rip those horns right out of your goddamn head." She threatened, and Schlatt laughed getting up, his white t-shirt and black sweat pants, now visible. Walking over to her, he stood in front of her, dangerously close, "Do it." He whispered, and Y/N shoved his chest roughly, which he just stumbled back a bit before going back to his spot. "It's two in the morning princess, and yet here you are. In my room." He whispered, this time his voice huskier which sent a chill down Y/N's spine. "This is your room, what are you going to do about it?" She dared, and Schlatt chuckled darkly, "You already know." He said, as Y/N got deja vu from their first interaction like this.

Y/N bit her bottom lip, as Schlatt roughly grabbed her thighs hoisting her up and throwing her on his bed. Y/N let a giggle rip through her throat, as Schlatt was now hovering over her, his shirt already discarded. "Eager are we?" She teased, and Schlatt growled, "I could drink so much alcohol and be absolutely wasted, but somehow you make me so much more drunk." He said, and Y/N grinned, "Do it." She whispered, as Schlatt thought of just fucking her then and there. Schlatt groaned, and ripped her clothes, literally. "That was Fundy's shirt.." She groaned out, and Schlatt chuckled, "That's why I did that princess." He said, before flipping her over, "Ass up now." He said, giving it a harsh slap as he quickly took off the remaining clothes he had on.

"Mouth open, now." He said, and Y/N opened her mouth as he quickly shoved his fingers down her throat keeping them there as she gagged onto them. Chuckling, he teased her entrance with his tip, before he roughly thrusted into her, making her gurgle from a moan, choking a bit from his fingers. Using his other hand, he pushed her down into the mattress as he thrusted into her with no remorse. Once he saw tears streaming down her face, he pulled his fingers out of her mouth, letting her cough to catch her breath. "God you're so beautiful." He whispered to her, as he sped up his thrusts, not caring if she was now overly sensitive since she had cum on him seconds before pulling his fingers out. Y/N only let out a couple sounds, which were supposed to be words. She was too far gone to form sentences, "Awh, is my cock that good that you can't speak? Did my cock do this to you princess?" He teased, and Y/N barely heard him, making him realize how far gone she was. Wrapping his hand around her throat, he choked her smirking.

This only made him feel even more egotistical, as he did this to her. After a couple rough sloppy thrusts, he let his cum feel her up to the brim. Pulling out, he fell down beside her, catching his breath while Y/N was attempting to come back. Getting up, he walked over to his bathroom dampening a rag before coming back and cleaning her thighs, and wiping the sweat off of her body. Throwing the rag back into the bathroom, he laid beside her, pulling her body to his gently not to hurt her. Jack smirked, as he realized what happened when he saw a stumbling Y/N walking out of the house, wearing a pair of Schlatt's sweats and one of his shirts that reached her knee's basically. "Well I'll be damned, he killed your guts." Jack said, and Y/N picked up a rock chucking it at him, "Fuck you."

#jschlatt #schlatt #schlatt x reader #schlatt smut #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #schlatt imagine #dream smp

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mcmansionhell · 3 years

Text

Underground, Part 1

[Author’s Note: A year ago, when waiting for the DC Metro, I came up with an idea for a short story involving two realtors and the infamous Las Vegas Underground House, typed up an outline, and shoved it away in my documents where it sat neglected until this month. The house recently resurfaced on Twitter, and combined with almost a year of quarantine, the story quickly materialized. Though I rarely write fiction, I decided I’d give it a shot as a kind of novelty McMansion Hell post. I’ve peppered the story with photos from the house to break up the walls of text. Hopefully you find it entertaining. I look forward to returning next month with the second installment of this as well as our regularly scheduled McMansion content. Happy New Year!

Warning: there’s lots of swearing in this.]

Underground

Back in 1997, Mathieu Rino, the son of two Finnish mechanical engineers who may or may not have worked intimately with the US State Department, changed his name to Jay Renault in order to sell more houses. It worked wonders.

He gets out of the car, shuts the door harder than he should. Renault wrinkles his nose. It’s a miserable Las Vegas afternoon - a sizzling, dry heat pools in ripples above the asphalt. The desert is a place that is full of interesting and diverse forms of life, but Jay’s the kind of American who sees it all as empty square-footage. He frowns at the dirt dusting up his alligator-skin loafers but then remembers that every lot, after all, has potential. Renault wipes the sweat from his leathery face, slicks back his stringy blond hair and adjusts the aviators on the bridge of his nose. The Breitling diving watch crowding his wrist looks especially big in the afternoon glare. He glances at it.

“Shit,” he says. The door on the other side of the car closes, as though in response.

If Jay Renault is the consummate rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xer trying to sell houses to other rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xers, then Robert Little is his millennial counterpart. Both are very good at their jobs. Robert adjusts his tie in the reflection of the Porsche window, purses his lips. He’s Vegas-showman attractive, with dark hair, a decent tan, and a too-bright smile - the kind of attractive that ruins marriages but makes for an excellent divorcee. Mildly sleazy.

“Help me with these platters, will you?” Renault gestures, popping the trunk. Robert does not want to sweat too much before an open house, but he obliges anyway. They’re both wearing suits. The heat is unbearable. A spread of charcuterie in one hand, Jay double-checks his pockets for the house keys, presses the button that locks his car.

Both men sigh, and their eyes slowly trail up to the little stucco house sitting smack dab in the center of an enormous lot, a sea of gravel punctuated by a few sickly palms. The house has the distinct appearance of being made of cardboard, ticky-tacky, a show prop. Burnt orange awnings don its narrow windows, which somehow makes it look even more fake.

“Here we go again,” Jay mutters, fishing the keys out of his pocket. He jiggles them until the splintered plywood door opens with a croak, revealing a dark and drab interior – dusty, even though the cleaners were here yesterday. Robert kicks the door shut with his foot behind him.

“Christ,” he swears, eyes trailing over the terrible ecru sponge paint adorning the walls. “This shit is so bleak.”

The surface-level house is mostly empty. There’s nothing for them to see or attend to there, and so the men step through a narrow hallway at the end of which is an elevator. They could take the stairs, but don’t want to risk it with the platters. After all, they were quite expensive. Renault elbows the button and the doors part.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he says as they step inside. The fluorescent lights above them buzz something awful. A cheery metal sign welcomes them to “Tex’s Hideaway.” Beneath it is an eldritch image of a cave, foreboding. Robert’s stomach’s in knots. Ever since the company assigned him to this property, he’s been terrified of it. He tells himself that the house is, in fact, creepy, that it is completely normal for him to be ill at ease. The elevator’s ding is harsh and mechanical. They step out. Jay flips a switch and the basement is flooded with eerie light.

It’s famous, this house - The Las Vegas Underground House. The two realtors refer to it simply as “the bunker.” Built by an eccentric millionaire at the height of Cold War hysteria, it’s six-thousand square feet of paranoid, aspirational fantasy. The first thing anyone notices is the carpet – too-green, meant to resemble grass, sprawling out lawn-like, bookmarked by fake trees, each a front for a steel beam. Nothing can grow here. It imitates life, unable to sustain it. The leaves of the ficuses seem particularly plastic.

Bistro sets scatter the ‘yard’ (if one can call it that), and there’s plenty of outdoor activities – a parquet dance floor complete with pole and disco ball, a putt putt course, an outdoor grill made to look like it’s nestled in a rock, but in reality better resembles a baked potato. The pool and hot tub, both sculpted in concrete and fiberglass mimicking a natural rock formation, are less Playboy grotto and more Fred Flintstone. It’s a very seventies idea of fun.

Then, of course, there’s the house. That fucking house.

A house built underground in 1978 was always meant to be a mansard – the mansard roof was a historical inevitability. The only other option was International Style modernism, but the millionaire and his wife were red-blooded anti-Communists. Hence, the mansard. Robert thinks the house looks like a fast-food restaurant. Jay thinks it looks like a lawn and tennis club he once attended as a child where he took badminton lessons from a swarthy Czech man named Jan. It’s drab and squat, made more open by big floor-to-ceiling windows nestled under fresh-looking cedar shingles. There’s no weather down here to shrivel them up.

“Shall we?” Jay drawls. The two make their way into the kitchen and set the platters down on the white tile countertop. Robert leans up against the island, careful of the oversized hood looming over the electric stovetop. He eyes the white cabinets, accented with Barbie pink trim. The matching linoleum floor squeaks under his Italian loafers.

“I don’t understand why we bother doing this,” Robert complains. “Nobody’s seriously going to buy this shit, and the company’s out a hundred bucks for party platters.”

“It’s the same every time,” Renault agrees. “The only people who show up are Instagram kids and the crazies - you know, the same kind of freaks who’d pay money to see Chernobyl.”

“Dark tourism, they call it.”

Jay checks his watch again. Being in here makes him nervous.

“Still an hour until open house,” he mutters. “I wish we could get drunk.”

Robert exhales deeply. He also wishes he could get drunk, but still, a job’s a job.

“I guess we should check to see if everything’s good to go.”

The men head into the living room. The beamed, slanted ceiling gives it a mid-century vibe, but the staging muddles the aura. Jay remembers making the call to the staging company. “Give us your spares,” he told them, “Whatever it is you’re not gonna miss. Nobody’ll ever buy this house anyway.”

The result is eclectic – a mix of office furniture, neo-Tuscan McMansion garb, and stuffy waiting-room lamps, all scattered atop popcorn-butter shag carpeting. Hideous, Robert thinks. Then there’s the ‘entertaining’ room, which is a particular pain in the ass to them, because the carpet was so disgusting, they had to replace it with that fake wood floor just to be able to stand being in there for more than five minutes. There’s a heady stone fireplace on one wall, the kind they don’t make anymore, a hearth. Next to it, equally hedonistic, a full bar. Through some doors, a red-painted room with a pool table and paintings of girls in fedoras on the wall. It’s all so cheap, really. Jay pulls out a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket along with a pen. He ticks some boxes and moves on.

The dining room’s the worst to Robert. Somehow the ugly floral pattern on the curtains stretches up in bloomer-like into a frilly cornice, carried through to the wallpaper and the ceiling, inescapable, suffocating. It smells like mothballs and old fabric. The whole house smells like that.

The master bedroom’s the most normal – if anything in this house could be called normal. Mismatched art and staging furniture crowd blank walls. When someone comes into a house, Jay told Robert all those years ago, they should be able to picture themselves living in it. That’s the goal of staging.

There’s two more bedrooms. The men go through them quickly. The first isn’t so bad – claustrophobic, but acceptable – but the saccharine pink tuille wallpaper of the second gives Renault a sympathetic toothache. The pair return to the kitchen to wait.

Both men are itching to check their phones, but there’s no point – there’s no signal in here, none whatsoever. Renault, cynical to the core, thinks about marketing the house to the anti-5G people. It’s unsettlingly quiet. The two men have no choice but to entertain themselves the old-fashioned way, through small talk.

“It’s really fucked up, when you think about it,” Renault muses.

“What is?”

“The house, Bob.”

Robert hates being called Bob. He’s told Jay that hundreds of times, and yet…

“Yeah,” Robert mutters, annoyed.

“No, really. Like, imagine. You’re rich, you founded a major multinational company marketing hairbrushes to stay-at-home moms, and what do you decide to do with your money? Move to Vegas and build a fucking bunker. Like, imagine thinking the end of the world is just around the corner, forcing your poor wife to live there for ten, fifteen years, and then dying, a paranoid old man.” Renault finds the whole thing rather poetic.

“The Russkies really got to poor ol’ Henderson, didn’t they?” Robert snickers.

“The wife’s more tragic if you ask me,” Renault drawls. “The second that batshit old coot died, she called a guy to build a front house on top of this one, since she already owned the lot. Poor woman probably hadn’t seen sunlight in God knows how long.”

“Surely they had to get groceries.”

Jay frowns. Robert has no sense of drama, he thinks. Bad trait for a realtor.

“Still,” he murmurs. “It’s sad.”

“I would have gotten a divorce, if I were her,” the younger man says, as though it were obvious. It’s Jay’s turn to laugh.

“I’ve had three of those, and trust me, it’s not as easy as you think.”

“You’re seeing some new girl now, aren’t you?” Robert doesn’t really care, he just knows Jay likes to talk about himself, and talking fills the time.

“Yeah. Casino girl. Twenty-six.”

“And how old are you again?”

“None of your business.”

“Did you see the renderings I emailed to you?” Robert asks briskly, not wanting to discuss Jay’s sex life any further.

“What renderings?”

“Of this house, what it could look like.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Jay has not seen the renderings.

“If it were rezoned,” Robert continues, feeling very smart, “It could be a tourist attraction - put a nice visitor’s center on the lot, make it sleek and modern. Sell trinkets. It’s a nice parcel, close to the Strip - some clever investor could make it into a Museum of Ice Cream-type thing, you know?”

“Museum of Ice Cream?”

“In New York. It’s, not, like, educational or anything. Really, it’s just a bunch of colorful rooms where kids come to take pictures of themselves.”

“Instagram,” Jay mutters. “You know, I just sold a penthouse the other week to an Instagram influencer. Takes pictures of herself on the beach to sell face cream or some shit. Eight-point-two million dollars.”

“Jesus,” Robert whistles. “Fat commission.”

“You’re telling me. My oldest daughter turns sixteen this year. She’s getting a Mazda for Christmas.”

“You ever see that show, My Super Sweet Sixteen? On MTV? Where rich kids got, like, rappers to perform at their birthday parties? Every time at the end, some guy would pull up in, like, an Escalade with a big pink bow on it and all the kids would scream.”

“Sounds stupid,” Jay says.

“It was stupid.”

It’s Robert’s turn to check his watch, a dainty gold Rolex.

“Fuck, still thirty minutes.”

“Time really does stand still in here, doesn’t it?” Jay remarks.

“We should have left the office a little later,” Robert complains. “The charcuterie is going to get –“

A deafening sound roars through the house and a violent, explosive tremor throws both men on the ground, shakes the walls and everything between them. The power’s out for a few seconds before there’s a flicker, and light fills the room again. Two backup generators, reads Jay’s description in the listing - an appeal to the prepper demographic, which trends higher in income than non-preppers. For a moment, the only things either are conscious of are the harsh flourescent lighting and the ringing in their ears. Time slows, everything seems muted and too bright. Robert rubs the side of his face, pulls back his hand and sees blood.

“Christ,” he chokes out. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” Jay breathes, looking at his hands, trying to determine if he’s got a concussion. The results are inconclusive – everything’s slow and fuzzy, but after a moment, he thinks it might just be shock.

“It sounded like a fucking 747 just nosedived on top of us.”

“Yeah, Jesus.” Jay’s still staring at his fingers in a daze. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Robert grumbles. Jay gives him a cursory examination.

“Nothing that needs stitches,” he reports bluntly. Robert’s relieved. His face sells a lot of houses to a lot of lonely women and a few lonely men. There’s a muffled whine, which the two men soon recognize as a throng of sirens. Both of them try to calm the panic rising in their chests, to no avail.

“Whatever the fuck happened,” Jay says, trying to make light of the situation, “At least we’re in here. The bunker.”

Fear forms in the whites of Robert’s eyes.

“What if we’re stuck in here,” he whispers, afraid to speak such a thing into the world. The fear spreads to his companion.

“Try the elevator,” Jay urges, and Robert gets up, wobbles a little as his head sorts itself out, and leaves. A moment later, Jay hears him swear a blue streak, and from the kitchen window, sees him standing before the closed metal doors, staring at his feet. His pulse racing, Renault jogs out to see for himself.

“It’s dead,” Robert murmurs.

“Whatever happened,” Jay says cautiously, rubbing the back of his still-sore neck, “It must have been pretty bad. Like, I don’t think we should go up yet. Besides, surely the office knows we’re still down here.”

“Right, right,” the younger man breathes, trying to reassure himself.

“Let’s just wait it out. I’m sure everything’s fine.” The way Jay says it does not make Robert feel any better.

“Okay,” the younger man grumbles. “I’m getting a fucking drink, though.”

“Yeah, Jesus. That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.” Renault shoves his hands in his suit pocket to keep them from trembling.

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#architecture #design #fiction #las vegas #underground house

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pingutats · 3 years

Note

i just had such a good request for a fic. dom/sub dynamic with dom!harry where y/n is being spanked for misbehavior and she ends up crying during it because she feels like she deserves to be hurt, and harry stops immediately and there’s a lot of fluffy aftercare and physical affection

thank you for the request!! i know it took me a million years to get to writing this but finally did it... i know it strays a little bit from all the details of your request but i hope you enjoy regardless!

warnings: spanking, dom/sub dynamic, descriptions of anxiety (maybe don’t read if you’re in a weird headspace, it’s not exactly pleasant!)

word count: 1.7k

. . . . .

As soon as Y/N hears Harry’s car in the driveway, she dashes from the kitchen to the front door like a kid that’s heard an ice-cream van. After the day of work at home she’s had, of redoing paperwork she’d messed up the first time and struggling through technical issues and communication errors over email—she just needs Harry so badly.

In fact, she’d texted him earlier to let him know. Quite blatantly. With a photo she prays he opened when there was nobody else around.

When Y/N opens the door for him he freezes, taking in her appearance. She’s wearing just panties and one of his shirts, her bare legs completely on display for him. His gaze sweeps up and down her body for a second, then he swears under his breath and strides in quickly. Y/N jumps back to give him room, waiting a few feet ahead in the hallway.

He shuts the door with his arm swinging back behind him, not even glancing over his shoulder to watch it close.

There’s a second of silence as they stare each other down, and it’s in this second that Y/N feels them slip into the roles of the game she’s been wanting to play all day. His eyes go from wide in shock to steady. Her head bows almost of its own accord, responding to the straightening of Harry’s shoulders after he drops his bag.

He inhales sharply through his nose and drops his keys into the bowl on the bench. “You’ve been doing this on purpose, darling,” he says in a measured tone. It isn’t a question. He won’t be asking questions now—she won’t have to think, she can just listen to him, let him take over now.

She plays with the bottom of his t-shirt that she’s wearing, pulling it up enough to reveal the slightly paler skin where her shorts would usually cover.

Harry’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Come here,” he says, beckoning her over.

She considers refusing, just to be a brat, but it’s a lot easier to just go along with him now she’s getting what she wanted. She twists her hands in the t-shirt in front of her as she approaches him, averting her eyes from his as he watches her, suddenly vulnerable under his gaze.

When she’s close enough, he reaches out and grabs her wrists to yank her grip on the shirt free, pulling her off balance so the only thing that stops her falling flat on her face is his arms. She tries to relax into his grip, tries to let herself go.

“Been so fucking needy today. That photo — nearly had me getting hard in the studio right in front of everyone, love,” he says, squeezing her wrists almost painfully. “And look how you answer the door, nearly naked for anyone walking on the street to see.” He shakes his head, clicking his tongue condescendingly. “Do you want to apologise for anything?”

She looks at him, pretends to think, and then shakes her head.

He sighs. “Of course not, you little brat.” His grip loosens. “Alright then. Go upstairs for me.”

She blinks at him.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Go on.” He spins her around and nudges her towards the stairs with a gentle push.

She glances over her shoulder at him before she goes and he only raises his eyebrows expectantly. She’s almost tempted to pull the back of the t-shirt down over her ass to cover herself, but that wouldn’t get her what she needs, and what she needs is Harry to take care of her—so she keeps her head bowed as she walks up the stairs, adding a little swing in her hips with each step just as the icing on the cake. She smiles when she hears his deep inhale from the hallway as he watches her the whole time.

Upstairs, she sits on the end of their bed with her hands in her lap, scratching at days-old nail polish she’ll need to redo soon. There’s a knot in her stomach that’s been twisting all day, stresses piling up and morphing into some ugly feeling she can’t shake, not without Harry’s help. She manages to peel all the bright pink colour off her left thumbnail while she waits.

It seems like forever before she hears Harry’s footsteps up the stairs but when she does, she straightens up. The sound of the door opening makes her jump in nervous shock. She flexes her fingers, trying to calm her jitters. It’s Harry. She needs him.

“Being such a brat today,” he says when he’s finally in front of her. “Aren’t you? Don’t know how to behave.” He sits beside her, squishing her cheeks with his thumb and forefinger. “Need me to teach you a lesson, hm?”

She nods at him, eyes moony. Yes, this is what she wants, needs from him—to let him take over for a little while, let him take out his frustration on her, help her let go of her own.

His grip softens a bit. “This okay, baby?” he asks more quietly.

She swallows. “Yeah.”

He leans forward and gives her a quick kiss. She feels like melting against the softness of his lips, pressing against her own, the mouth she knows so well. It’s a comfort in the mess that her mind is feeling like right now.

But he isn’t so gentle as he drags her over his lap a moment later, her face roughly pushed down into the mattress. His hand squeezes her ass, only barely covered by her panties, and her breath hitches.

“Count for me.”

“Yes sir,” she breathes, closing her eyes.

Her exhale is cut short by the force of his palm cracking against her skin, jolting her forward over his lap. The sting dissipates quickly, taking none of the tension inside her with it.

“One,” she says.

“Good girl.” His hand comes down on her again, harder this time.

She screws her eyes shut. “Two.”

It isn’t feeling like how she wants it to feel. She’s too tense, restless, her mind unwilling to float away under Harry’s touch. The pain, which usually is laced with something brilliant and exciting, is just pain today. But with all the mistakes she’s made today, all the things she messed up that have just added to her workload and her stress—maybe this is what she deserves. Punishments are called that for a reason.

So she stays where she is, her head lowered so Harry won’t see anything wrong. She gasps at the third, and it takes her a second to remember she needs to count. “Three,” she says, her voice shuddering.

Harry pauses and she fears she’s made him upset, spoken too quietly, taken too long—she can’t do anything right.

“Love,” he says. His hand comes to rest on her shoulder gently. “Are those good tears or bad tears?”

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and in the pause, realises her cheeks are wet. “Um,” she says. Her voice shakes.

Harry’s arm snakes underneath her and pulls her up, manoeuvring her so she straddles his lap and he can see her face. The crease between his brows is deep as his eyes dart over her face, his thumb coming to her cheek to brush a tear away.

She leans her head into his palm that was cracking down onto her skin just a minute ago and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

“What happened? When did it change?” he asks, his voice soft again, his character leaving.

She shrugs. She doesn’t trust herself to speak without crying more, and she feels stupid enough already.

“It’s alright, love,” he says, shifting so he can sit up straighter and pull her closer to his chest. He rubs her back, kissing her hair. “Let’s just rest for a moment, alright?”

She nods into his shoulder, hiding her face. His hand cradles the back of her head. The panic that she was feeling is dissolving into nothing. All day she felt so tense with so much twisting inside her, and she’d thought she could force it out painfully—she was wrong, of course, and now she feels awful for roping Harry into her misguided attempt to fix herself.

After a couple minutes, Harry taps her to get her to look up at him. “Why’d you want a punishment today?” he asks, without accusation.

She shrugs, raising her shoulders as high as she can and then letting them drop sharply. “Just felt like I needed it.”

He nods. He understands that sometimes she feels like this—needs to lose herself in playing a role for an evening, forget about real life and its responsibilities—because he knows the feeling too. She’s helped him in this way before. They take it in turns: give each other what they need, when they need it. “Wasn’t helpful today, though?” he prompts, his eyebrows raised sympathetically.

She shakes her head, looking sheepish. “Sorry.”

“Hey,” he says. He smiles a little bit and a shallow dimple appears in his cheek. “That’s fine. It’s just a game. We play it whenever you want to, we stop playing when you’re not enjoying it. That’s important, alright?”

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “Sorry.”

“Need to stop apologising, baby,” he tells her. “Just keep talking to me. I don’t want to hurt you.” He kisses her cheek and the gesture raises butterflies in her stomach, even still after all the months they’ve been together. It reminds her that he’s there for her, to look after her, to take care of her when she can’t do it for herself. His lips stay close to her skin as he asks, “How can I help, though, really?”

She buries her face back into his shoulder. “Dunno,” she says, her voice muffled. “Just need you.”

She feels his chin gently knock against the top of her head as he nods, his arms tightening around her again. “You’ve got me, baby. Always got me.”

. . . . .

thank you for reading! if you did like it, a reblog would be really appreciated as well as any feedback/comments you might have! you can find more of my writing on my masterlist.

#harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #fic

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skiitter · 3 years

Note

OK prompt for wotr, Lann when the commander got collered in the abyss. Since nobody except The Hand said anything in my game either (and I love the gold guy, even tho he keeps talking about iomedae when, as anevia said, I look like desna had her wicked way with me, and Regill, even if my chaotic ass is forever disappointing him)

wait omg Regill said something to you about getting collared??? i'm so jealous. daeran was the only one and omg he was so adorable and bad at pretending he doesn't care. okay anyway, prompt time:

Lann had been a hunter for most of his life. He knew the merits of patience and fully understood how timing is everything, especially in matters of personal relationships. He'd given the Commander space ever since they'd been royally banished to Alushinyrra, accepting without complaint that there would be a time and a place for the two of them to sit down and discuss whatever fragile thing that had blossomed between them. The Worldwound, the hoard of demon armies, and the fate of Mendev had to come first. He could wait. He could be patient.

And then she was taken.

On the road, and in every encounter, Lann took pride in having the Commander's back. He kept his sharp eye out for trouble, especially with the dangers that tended to lurk in the shadows and had often dispatched them to Pharasma without ever alerting her to their existence. At the Battlebliss Arena, though, he faltered and it nearly cost them all something they could never replace.

In total, she was only in Zeklex' clutches for less than two days, but it was the longest two days of Lann's extremely short life. Even Regill, who was as rigid as glass and twice as sharp, was visibly unsettled. Seelah immediately began organizing a party to storm the Arena, while Ember did her best to console Daeran who was, to Lann's utter discomfort, genuinely upset at the Commander's kidnapping.

It was Arue, in the end, that got them back into the Arena. She pulled whatever strings she still had tethered to this wretched plane and got them in, just in time to see the Commander march, proud and fearless, into the ring.

From there it was a blur of violence; the electric charge of her spells licking at his human flesh. Arrow after razer sharp arrow struck true with expert precision and soon, the Commander had claimed the title of champion. There was some nonsense with Zeklex and his employer and who was supposed to succeed who. Lann didn't care. He was one word from the Commander away from burying a quiver-full of arrows into his chest.

She let him go, of course, and Lann was forced to swallow his anger. A lifetime of managing his emotions, continuously striking that balance of easygoing and pragmatic and it all vanished the second the stepped off the arena.

The Commander made straight for the exit, the tremor in her left hand visible only to those who knew to look for it, and fielded off the concern that Arue and Ember sent her way. Lann fell back to the edge of the party, allowing their friends a moment to swarm her. The second that Regill stepped away, his cold yellow eyes a shade softer for her--be it in respect or genuine affection Lann could never tell--the mongrel reached for her.

"Commander," he said, cringing at the slight tremor in his own voice.

"Lann, are you hurt?" She meant it, sincerely, and he was still just as baffled at her capacity for concern as he had been since the beginning.

"Just a little pesky emotion is all. Are you hurt?"

She glanced away, for only a second, but it said all he needed to hear. "I'm free and that's what matters." She laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. "How was it, while I was gone? No bloodshed among my favorite companions, I hope."

Lann scoffed. "Honestly? Nothing brings a group of ragtag assholes together like a mutual cause. Truly, I didn't know we had it in us to work so well together."

"Hmm, good to know. Maybe I'll get kidnapped and thrown into servitude more often."

"No!" It was too much, too loud, and the shock on her face made him cringe yet again. "I mean, that's a bad idea, probably. Obviously. Of course, you're joking, but sometimes with you it's hard to tell. I think you pushed Regill's bleaching back several decades with the introduction of worry into his life. Even Woljif, with all his immaturity, was concerned. Really, everyone was--"

"Even you?" Her eyes searched his, roaming the expanse of his dual-skinned face and Lann turned the human side away from her to hide the blush.

"I--I was a little worried."

"Only a little?"

"Come on, we both know what a monster you are in battle. That asshole never stood a chance." Lann broke his cardinal rules about affection to briefly run his finger down her cheek. "You're a force of nature, Commander," he said it softly, more emotional than he'd meant to be.

Her features shifted and the smile she gave him was as brilliant as the stars of Elysium. "Thank you for coming to rescue me. You're quite the night in shining armor."

"I don't wear armor."

"Before the night is through, hopefully you won't be wearing much else." Her grin was cheeky, the suggestive tone of her words more for show than substance, but beneath it all, there was that look in her eye. There was no privacy now, not since their camp became a veritable orphanage for all the slaves she'd freed, and not for the first time, Lann cursed her and her glorious purpose.

He was a man, a simple man, and sometimes all he wanted was for her to be a simple woman. Because, if she was, then perhaps the fates and the powers that be wouldn't be trying so hard to kill them and he could steal her away for the rest of his short life. The Commander was made for greatness, glory itself ran through her blood, but Lann loved her because she snuck Aivu cookies whenever she could and she let Ember braid her hair whenever she wanted. He loved her because she was still a mortal, despite her mythic calling, and her every action towards their group of miscreants spoke to that.

Lann loved her because...he loved her. And that was a revelation unto itself.

"Ah, but the sun doesn't rise here so this night will never end," he pointed out.

"All the more reason to leave then, isn't it?" She stopped, glanced back at where their companions were standing, and threw her arms around him. The weight of her, the physical evidence of her safety, was the only home he'd known since stepping out into the big, wide world. "I missed you, Lann," she whispered.

"Please don't get kidnapped again, my ugly mongrel heart can't take it." He knew the weight of what he said, but he said it anyway.

"Well, you don't need to worry about your ugly mongrel heart anymore." She let go of him, but did not back away. "It's mine now, and I take excellent care of my things."

It was and she did.

#Pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #wrath of the righteous #act 4 spoilers #lann #GOD writing fic for WotR is so fun #thank u anon im love u #skitterfics

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separatist-apologist · 3 years

Text

Part 2

Did someone ask for part 2 of Lucien/Elain riling the other up?

Lucien returned two weeks later to the River House for one of his mundane meetings about the human lands. Winter snow blanketed the city of Velaris, creating a gray gloom that matched Lucien’s mood. He had hoped to be gone longer after his last interaction with Elain. Walking away from her when she’d been so pliant and willing beneath his hands had been torture. So what if she wanted to use him? At least she’d wanted him at all, right?

Wrong, his mind growled as he pulled open the front door. If she wanted him, she’d get all of him or nothing at all. He was her mate, not some male she could use for her pleasure and then discard. Still, he had his regrets. None more so when he walked into Rhy’s study, papers tucked beneath his arm, only to find Elain in an obscenely short night dress half bent over his desk. Lucien’s entire brain stuttered to the stop at the sight. Honey colored curls tumbled loosely down her back while the silky pink dress highlighted the curve of her ass…and not much more.

“Ah…” He trailed off, unsure what to say. Elain straightened out and Lucien almost wished she hadn’t. Why did the night dress cut so low? He could see so much of her soft, bouncy breasts.

“Rhys left early with Feyre this morning,” Elain told him, tugging the hem of her dress slightly, as though she could make it slide further down his thigh without letting him see all of her breasts. She hopped up on Rhys’ desk, crossing one pretty leg over the other, and offered him a smile. “He asked me to wait for you.”

Oh no, he realized. This wasn’t an accident. It was revenge. She gestured towards the high-backed leather chair positioned mere inches from her legs in an invitation to sit. His legs immediately surged forward, pulled by an invisible string. How long had she been planning this, he wondered with too much excitement? If she’d planned to make them even, it meant she was thinking of him when he wasn’t around.

Lucien let his eyes roam over the dips and curves of her body, curious if she’d changed her mind about wanting a distraction. He’d give her everything she wanted if she admitted she wanted him.

“Was there something he asked you to share with me?” Lucien asked, impressed by how calm and in control he sounded. He certainly was neither of those things. Elain made a show of thinking, her beautiful head tilted upwards, her finger pressed against her full, pink lips. All Lucien could think about was his cock similarly pressed to her mouth. He swallowed hard, adjusting himself quickly, before she could notice what he was doing.

“He did say something…what was it?” She murmured, she asked, taking the tip of her finger into her mouth and holding it between her teeth. She knew he heard his inhale of air at the gesture, judging by how her lips curled upwards into a coy smile. He was going out of his mind, sitting there with his cock pressed painfully against his thigh, watching as she squirmed and touched herself mere inches from his body.

“Oh, I remember!” She interrupted his thoughts brightly, sliding off the desk…and into his lap. She smelled sweet, like honey mixed with colorful, swaying flowers beneath a hot summer sun. He knew she felt his cock when she shifted against his groin, judging by how she immediately slid her ass against him again.

Elain wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand trailing into his hair. He felt her breath on his cheek, his fingernails gentle as they scraped along his scalp. He couldn’t help himself; he arched his hips ever so slightly into her, desperate to relieve the ache that had been building since he’d walked into the room.

Her mouth brushed softly along the exposed skin of his jaw, up towards his cheekbones, and down again until he could feel them practically touching his own lips. He fisted his hands at his sides to keep himself from yanking her against him and forcing a kiss on her.

“He wanted to know if you regretted leaving so early on Solstice?” she murmured, her lips touching his. Lucien groaned out loud, swallowing hard.

“And if I said yes?” He asked, hating how close she kept her face, how he could feel her nose brushing against his own. He could practically taste her. He wanted to, more than he wanted anything else in his life.

“I suppose that depends,” was her response, her smile touching his mouth.

“I do,” he agreed.

All at once, Elain removed herself from his body. She walked around Rhys’ desk for a long, ugly periwinkle robe that hid her body beneath thick, plush fabric. “He’ll be back in twenty minutes,” Elain told Lucien, likely what Rhys had actually asked her to pass along. Lucien blinked, nearly letting her walk out of the study.

He rose from his chair and crossed the room quickly, slamming her up against the wall just beside the door. Elain squeaked with surprise, those fawn-colored eyes wide. Lucien pressed his thigh between her legs, nearly falling to his knees at the heat he felt radiating from her body.

“Is this your idea of hospitality, Elain?” He asked her, gathering her delicate wrists in one broad hand so he could touch her face.

“You certainly didn’t seem to mind,” she replied, that coy smile replacing her surprise. Lucien swallowed his growl. “I merely wished to return the favor you so graciously offered me the last time we spoke.”

“Have you changed your mind?” He asked, well aware of the desperation in his voice. Elain pulled forward despite her wrists pinned over her head, so their lips nearly touched. Below, she rubbed herself against his thigh, forcing his eyes to roll upwards into his head.

“Next time, I think you’ll take what I’m offering.”

Surprised, he dropped his hold on her and Elain, still wearing her lumpy, shapeless robe, slipped from the room without so much as a glance backwards.

Lucien watched her go. Fuck how right she was.

#elucien prompt #elucien #elain x lucien #part 3?#elucien one shot #elucien fic

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afriendlyblackhottie · 3 years

Text

Cure to a Bad Day

Summary: Andy had a bad day and he needs your pussy to make it all better.

Pairings: Daddy!Andy Barber x Black!Reader

Warnings: Age Gap (not mentioned), smut, daddy kink, rough sex, porn without a plot, reverse cowgirl, face fucking, using tie as a restraint, choking with tie, swearing, dirty talk

Tagged: @titty-teetee , @harrysthiccthighss , @iam-laiya , @mariahthelioness29 , @night-of-the-living-shred , @liquorlaughslove , @blackmissfrizzle , @donutloverxo @whiskey-cokenfanfic , @olyvoyl, @queenoftheworldisdead, @zaddychris, @pooresthilton (for some reason it won’t let me tag you)

(A/N: this is totally unedited. I just wanted to put something out so I could work through my writers block. Also this is dedicated to @babyloveuniverse for putting the idea of Andy Barber choking me with his tie in my head. Thanks for that 😭.Reblog, reblog, reblog.)

Andy had been having such a bad day today. He’d almost missed a deadline with work, the divorce was getting kind of ugly, and he was mentally exhausted. Needed an outlet. Luckily he had you.

You were all dolled up in this dress he didn’t let you wear out of the house. Said he didn’t like seeing other men look at you since it was so short your ass almost showed in it. Yet he loved it when you wore it for him.

When he’d talked to you on his lunch break, you could hear the stress in his voice. Wanting to be a good little girlfriend you decided to make his favorite and dress up a little. Ever since he’d left Laurie for you - not that she knew that - the two of you had been in bliss. He wanted to take care of you and had already started planning your wedding for whenever the divorce was finalized.

Of course all of that meant that sometimes you also needed to take care of him. Today had been a pretty difficult day after all. Sometimes he needed to use you to de-stress in a way he could never do with his ex.

Before you could even greet him, he pushed you against the counter. Kissing you hard and pressing himself into you as he started to undo his tie.

“Daddy had a hard day so he needs your help to feel better,” he said as he turned you around so you were bent over. His tie was now being wrapped around your hands behind your back and there was nothing you could do about it. He smacked your ass hard once and then again and again.

You yelped, “Ow!”

“Gonna be a good girl for me, huh? I know you better be. Daddy needs you to take care of him.” He pulled you up so your ass was against his crotch.

Andy grinded himself into you. “What about dinner?” You asked looking at the food you’d started preparing as he started walking with you over to the living room, fondling your tits as he did.

“We’ll order in,” he said, grabbing your neck so he could pull you into another kiss while he was still standing beheind you. He pretty much shoved his tongue into your mouth, needing to kiss you hard. Needing to dominate you in every way possible.

Your breathing was heavy as he lifted the front of your dress so he could finally playing with his pretty little pussy. “Fuck,” you gasped, pulling away from him.

“I think you knew what was about to happen,” he said into your ear. One of his hands still wrapped around your neck as his other toyed with your clit. “My dirty little slut didn’t even bother to put on any panties? You wanted me to come home and fuck you hard. Didn’t you.”

You nodded looking up at him with those pretty already blurry eyes. “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl,” he hissed. “So fucking good.” He smacked your mound making you jump before throwing you on the couch. He stalked over to you, grabbing your chin so you were forced to watch as he undid his belt and then his pants making his cock spring forward. “Gonna take me in your mouth like a good girl?” He asked. “Open.”

You obeyed his command, opening your mouth wide so you could take him. As he grabbed you by your hair to pull you on him so he could start fucking your mouth.

He groaned as he started thrusting his hips. “That’s such a good slut. See this is why I love you.” He pulled you down so you were on your knees in front of him. “Look up at me,” he baby talked you. “Daddy wants to see those pretty eyes while he destroys your throat.”

You did as you were told as you pulled him out of your mouth so you could start licking him. He grabbed a fistful of your hair. Your tongue worked his tip, licking up all that precum.

You almost forgot that he’d tied your hands together because you wanted to touch him so bad. And he was so much to fit in your mouth you needed the extra help to jack him off. With his hand still in your hair he forced you down his length. You gagged, coughing around him before he let you back home. Strings of saliva coming off with it.

“You didn’t forget your manners did you? Remember you’re supposed to thank your daddy for allowing you to worship is cock, Baby.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Daddy.”

He grunted because fuck what a sight to behold. You still in that little ass dress with your legs spread open. Pussy juices dripping onto the hardwood flooring. “You’re welcome,” he said before making you do the same thing again this time letting you get a breath in before filling you with him again. “Nasty fucking girl.”

Your face was getting covered from all the slobber and the next time he pulled you off of him you didn’t skip a beat. “Thank you, Daddy.”

He chuckled before running his hand over your face trying to spread it even more. Fuck you wanted to touch your pussy so bad. He lifted his dick up so his balls were in your face. You knew what he wanted and got to work licking, sucking, and slobbering all over. “Good fucking girl. Such a good nasty little slut.”

His dick fell heavy against your face. He took it into his hand so he could smack your face with it. Fuck it was a dream. His girl sucking on his balls while he cock slapped you. A dream.

He leaned down to undo the tie from around your hands before sitting down on the couch. “Come over here,” he said. You nodded as you crawled over before getting back on your knees so you could suck him again.

Now with your hands free, you could now jerk him off as you sucked at the same time. Fuck he had needed this so damn bad. He needed your pussy more though because he pulled you off of him soon and made you stand up.

He pulled you up and turned you around, making you sit on his dick. Normally he would have worked to make sure your was nice and wet, but he knew his little slut. He knew you’d take whatever he gave you.

Your pussy always seemed to hug his cock in a way he never felt before. Your pussy so perfectly tight. Fucking soaking. All his. Only his.

“Daddy,” you mewled once you were completely seated on his length. He was too damn much, but he didn’t give a shit as he started working your cunt helping you move up and down. “It’s too much.”

“That’s why you need to be a good girl and take it,” he grunted because after that blowjob he knew he wasn’t going to last long at all. “Tell me you’re my bitch.”

“I’m your bitch,” you whimpered. Fuck he was so damn big. How the fuck did he always feels so big. He never gave you a chance to adjust and it hurt so damn good.

With his tie still in hand, he put it around your neck twisting it around his hands as he pressed it into you. You cried out because fuck you started to feel like you couldn’t take it which only made you wanna take it even harder. “You gonna fucking cum for me?” He asked. “Gonna cum all over me like the slut you are. You like when I treat you like shit?”

“Yes!” You screamed putting your hands behind you so that they were gripping his thighs. You needed the leverage because honestly you were afraid of falling off with how strong you could tell your orgasm was about to be. “Daddy!”

“Cum for me,” he said in your ear. “Cum for me so daddy can fucking cum inside that nasty little fucking cunt.”

You moved your hips desperately as finally it hit you fucking hard. “Daddy!” You screamed out. The pressure from his tie being around your neck, only adding to the intensity.

He stilled you as he started to cum in your pussy. Thick ropes of his cum painting your walls. Just what he needed after such a bad day. You collapsed back onto him. Both of you breathing heavy.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing the top of your head. “Thank you, Daddy,” you mumbled your throat feeling all raw. You were in a slight daze. God you looked beautiful.

He chuckled his chest still heaving. “No, thank you, Baby. Always so good at taking care of me.” He laid down now with his in his arms, finally fully kicking his pants off. “You can pick out dinner, okay?”

You nodded as you laid against him. How the hell was he expecting you to think let alone know what you wanted for dinner after he’d just fucked you like that.

“Did you have a good day, at least?” He asked because now that he was taken care of, he wanted to hear all about you.

#andy barber x female reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x black!reader #Andy barber x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black women

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