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sadesluvr · 2 months

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Kiss It Better

Seven minutes in heaven with Ethan Landry turns out to be the therapy you both needed.

(Ethan Landry x Reader)

A/N: My first (overdue) Ethan fic! Pre ejac with Ethan is one of my guiltiest pleasures…Minors/Ageless blogs DNI

Word count: 1.5K

Tags: SMUT / Fem! Reader / Enemies to lovers / Handjobs / Fingering / Premature ejaculation / Virgin! Ethan + Experienced! Reader / Dirty talk / Dom + Sub elements, if you squint

Ethan didn’t know how he’d gotten here; back pressed against the narrow walls of a shoe cupboard whilst he fought the process of perspiration, which seemed damn near impossible given the stuffiness of the frat house.

His heart pounded in his chest as he squirmed uncomfortably, desperate not to look you in the face. You, the bane of his existence, had become stuck together, counting the seconds as the time passed for the dreaded seven minutes.

It was a Friday night, and expectedly, Chad had dragged him to another party, filled with cheap alcohol and set to the aura of low, coloured lighting. He hadn’t expected you to show up - people usually only showed up to parties for one thing, and you were already dating Bryce, someone who happened to be his classmate.

To put it simply, Bryce was an ass. He was a self entitled econ student, with a Fortune 500 father and a future budding stint in jail for fraud - should he ever be caught - though guys like Bryce never did.

Two things made it worse - One, the fact that he seemed to target Ethan himself, and two, that you, his girlfriend, never seemed to do anything about it…to the point that it was encouraged.

There was never a moment where Bryce hadn’t threatened Ethan for ‘help’ (it was much, much more than that) to the latest assignment, or made a snide comment towards him in the hallways. He hated it, but he’d always been kind of a pushover.

So wasn’t it ironic that you’d ended up rolling him at a game of ‘Spin the Bottle?’

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said, clearing his throat. “I know you probably wanted someone like Chad…”

You snorted.

“He definitely wouldn’t have hurt,” you sighed, staring up at the ceiling, likely begging for someone to rescue you. “But I’ve been there, done that….plus, I’ve already got a man,”

Ethan raised his brows at your flippant admission. Chad hadn’t mentioned that before.

“…Does Bryce know you’re here?” he stammered.

“Yup,” you said nonchalantly, popping your tongue. “He didn’t stop me, so I guess our chapter’s closed,”

“Y-You broke up?” Ethan said, throat dry as he choked on his own words. This probably meant that the bastard would be even more of an ass to him, if that were even possible.

You nodded.

Ethan stared at you with wide eyes, about to speak when you raised a finger.

“I don’t need your pity. It’s just a college fling, I’ll move on to the next.”

He raised his brow and puffed his cheeks at that statement. He’d heard the exact opposite, but who was he to speak about someone else’s relationship?

It was silent for a few moments, with you finding a particular interest in your nails before you looked up at Ethan, studying him intently. He was rather big for a nerd; tall, with surprisingly wide shoulders and arms - a direct contrast to his boyish curly hair. He’d always been nothing but shy and polite - something even Bryce had echoed - but you’d never really taken him seriously. At most, he was just some dude from Econ who happened to room with one of your past flings.

Still, whether it was the liquor induced haze from cheap alcohol or the fact that you were moping over your breakup, the little dork seemed rather appealing. After all, what was a better way to get over a failed relationship?

“Look, I’m sorry for how that came out, okay?” You huffed, making eye contact with him. “I’m a little hurt, and I can be a total ass sometimes…Just like Bryce. I’m sorry for how he treated you. Totally not cool.”

You tried not to giggle at the way the boy's eyes widened.

“Y-You don’t have to apologise, it’s not really your fault!” the boy stammered. “Bryce is — He’s Bryce. And I actually liked doing his assignments, they’re kinda fun when you’re really into the topic…! I-I mean not to—“

His rambling was silenced by your lips on his, taking charge as you smeared the taste of your lipgloss across his lips, consuming every one of his stifled gasps. You pulled away, unable to hide a smirk as he ran a hand through his hair; face flushed and panting. He was so animated in his actions that it was hard to believe he was real.

“Y-You kissed me…”

“Sorry,” you hummed. “I won’t do it again,”

“No! No, I liked it…” Ethan said desperately. “A lot…” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you’d be into a guy like me…”

You smirked and shrugged your shoulders.

“You’re pretty cute for a nerd. Besides, it’s pointless to waste our time here, isn’t it?”

“I-I think time should be up soon —“ the boy continued to stammer, but you rolled your eyes and placed a finger to his lips, silencing him.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” you whispered, draping your arms around his neck before you began to kiss him again, this time running your fingers through his hair, your graceful fingertips sending chills down his spine. He reciprocated, opting not to go too far and settling with his hands on your waist, tracing the curve of your spine as he relaxed into the motions of your lips against his.

Was he dreaming?

His somewhat emboldened move made you smirk, and you pressed your body against his, breasts pushing against his chest and thigh rubbing along his crotch, causing him to gasp.

“Shit…” he mumbled, pulling away as he tried to adjust himself. “I’m sorry, I —“

“Ethan,” you sighed, cupping his cheeks. “You don’t have to be sorry, I like it. And as long as you do too, I’m down. Just relax, okay?”

He nodded, mesmerised as you took his hand, and interlocked your fingers, guiding them from the soft mounds of your breasts to past your thighs, eventually slipping them under your skirt. Ethan’s fingertips had pushed your panties to the side with ease, and the boy almost choked as he enveloped his digits in your folds.

You were warm and wet, and so his movements inside you came easy. If the fact that he was touching you weren’t mesmerising enough, it was your unwavering eye contact that made his heart clench. You were taking control, and yet you were still submissive enough to let him explore you - solidified by the entranced look in your eye.

He must’ve been doing something right.

“Feel good?” you hummed, not really listening out for an answer. Ethan’s low, ragged breaths told you everything, and you almost took pity on him for what was to come.

Sliding your hands down his torso, you stopped at his jeans, cupping his bulge and giving it a gentle squeeze. He gasped; involuntarily pulling you towards him as his head draped slightly on your shoulder. He was practically keeling over and you’d barely even touched him.

Smirking, you skilfully unzipped his fly and dug around in his briefs, gripping your hands around his cock before pulling it out. His precum dripped tip grazed your thigh, twitching as you began to stroke the vessel, admiring its girth.

Ethan whimpered, shutting his eyes as he parted his lips, lost in the flurry of sensations. He’d just found your clit, and he revelled in the way you’d moaned as he rubbed it, causing your walls to clench on his fingers��and now here you were, jerking him off.

“Is this your first handjob, Eth?” you purred into his ear. He could barely fathom an answer, instead nodding vehemently, tousling his hair in the process.

“Aw,” you giggled, giving his balls a gentle squeeze as you kissed his reddening neck. “I’m so lucky to be your first…I bet you’ve been dreaming of this for a while, hm?”

Ethan squeezed his eyes shut, gasps slowly getting louder as he took deeper breaths. He withdrew his face from your shoulder to look at you, a beautiful devil, eyes clouded with lust as they glimmered in the dim lighting of the house around you. In this moment, nothing mattered, and he took the opportunity to kiss you - to which you eagerly returned.

His movements became more frantic as you squealed at his sudden aggression, your mixture of shock and fear somehow turning him on even more. It reminded him of all the screams of fear when he —

“Fuck, Eth,” you whined further, drawing him from his thoughts. “You’re so big, no wonder why Bryce hated you…” you mused before letting out a chuckle. “…You know, I’ve always secretly had a thing for nerds.”

Whether you were being genuine or not, Ethan immediately spilled his load at the statement, moaning loudly in your shoulder as his body convulsed and fingers twitched. His rich cum coated your fingers, and you laughed as he writhed against you, riding out his high. He’d only lasted three minutes, but they were the best three minutes of his life.

He hid his face shyly as he looked back up at you.

“That quick, hm?” you giggled, licking the excess off of your skin. “You continue to flatter me, Landry,”

“Let me make it up to you,” he said boldly, wholly serious as he stared you in the eye. You cocked a brow, expecting him to be apologetic, but you couldn’t help but admire his newfound confidence.

Fixing your clothes, you nodded and curved your lips into a smile.

“I think I will,” you hummed, taking his hand in yours. “Your place or mine?”

#florence writes!!#ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #scream x reader #ghostface x reader #scream iv x reader #scream iv imagine #scream smut

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janaispunk · 1 month

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no one has to know what we do

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: Try as you might, Dave and you can’t stay away from each other.

word count: 4.4k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that Dave pulls, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, sooooo many pussy slaps (don’t look at us), pet names, let me know if anything is missing!

a/n: co-written with my love @joelscurls, who unfortunately couldn’t write this entire chapter the way we had originally planned, so you’re stuck with me again. if you notice that some parts are better written than others, those are most likely hers haha <3 this is lowkey my favorite thing that i’ve ever put out, and i hope you like it as much as i do 🤍

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

The phone feels like a paperweight in your hand. It’s late — you should be sleeping, but you know it’s useless to even attempt shutting your eyes. It’s too loud in your head right now — that promise of just one time blaring: a warning. Still, you can’t help but consider ignoring it, texting David and begging to see him again.

It’s probably a bit pathetic, yearning for a man who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you beyond a one night stand. Daydreaming about the timbre of his voice, the stretch of his cock. Getting his phone number from your father, who’s none the wiser. Your father, who is asleep in his own room just down the hall. Being home for the summer has never felt like such a burden.

Guilt eats at you as your fingers hover over the screen, David’s contact front and center. It would be so easy to send him a text right now, let him know you’re thinking about him. About the other night. But your conscience reins you in. Your father’s face flashes behind your eyes — rage and disappointment painting his features scarlet, and you drop the phone beside you on the mattress with a huff.

It’s difficult to even imagine the inevitable severity of his reaction if he ever found out. He’d probably cut you off, the revelation of you whoring around with his friend — and the possibility of this news getting out, tarnishing your family’s pure reputation — more than enough for him to disown you.

You hate him sometimes. Hate the life he’s forced onto you. You’re not even interested in studying law — not really. You never had a choice, though. It was determined before you even graduated high school that you’d follow in your dad’s footsteps. And as long as he’s funding your studies, your future, you have no right to complain. This is the life you should want. The life everyone wants. He reminds you of that fact regularly. Him, and his countless snooty club buddies.

But David — David is refreshing.

He doesn’t come from old money. He doesn’t pinch your cheeks and talk around you rather than to you, declarations of you must be so proud aimed at your father as you stand awkwardly to the side. You’re pretty sure he’s the first person outside of your professors to really look at you, take interest in anything you have to say in… god knows how long.

You can still feel his eyes boring into you. The subtle but tactful brush of his leg against yours under the table. The exhilaration that had thrummed in your veins. He’d made you feel something. You’d almost forgotten you could feel anything apart from stress and agitation. And as you lay in bed, mind swimming with arousal and impending remorse, you fear you may not be able to control yourself much longer, consequences be damned.

He’s not expecting you to reach out.

Why would you? You’d mutually agreed on that night in his car being a one time thing — just a hookup; something he would’ve done before meeting Carol. Something he should probably be doing more often now. Except you’ve somehow sunk your teeth in him, injected him with a sort of venom.

Because all he can think about is seeing you again.

It’s wrong — beyond wrong. You’re so young; still in college, for christ sake. He never met you before the other night, but he’d been stationed overseas with your father when your mother was pregnant with you. He still remembers reading the letters she’d sent in care packages over his shoulder, the ones detailing her symptoms, what foods she was craving.

Strawberries. She always wanted strawberries. Maybe that’s why you’re so sweet.

He’s never been with a woman like you; never had someone trust him with so much vigor. Your needy little pleas, your vehement obedience, your desperation to take all of him in the driver’s seat of his car — you are nothing short of intoxicating.

Still, he tells himself you’re off limits. Trudges through the days that follow with the thought of you bouncing in his lap fogging his head. Struggles to focus at work and recovers in an increasingly poor manner when called on in meetings.

And then, late on a Friday night, you text him.

He only knows it’s you because you tell him so — your full name flashing across the screen followed by an apology for messaging him so late. You say you’re out with friends, and he’d probably have guessed anyway by the typos littering your sentences.

Seconds after the first, another text comes through:

[1:23am] csnt stop thinking about u. pls see me again i promise i won’t twll anyone

Fuck. Fuck.

His muscles tense; his cock twitches in his boxers. And before he does something stupid, like responds, he sets the phone face down on his bedside table. Stalks off to the bathroom with the intention of taking an icy-cold shower, detoxing himself best he can.

He hasn’t even closed the door yet when he hears it ring.

The rhythmic jingle drones through his studio apartment, and he all but leaps at the noise. Sure enough, it's you, calling him drunk in the middle of the night.

His head swims. He presses ‘answer’ anyway.

“David?” Your voice sounds so sugary-sweet, cloying with innocence. He can hear people in the background, maybe your friends, talking about getting another round of drinks.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks first. You tell him yes; say you're waiting on a rideshare.

He exhales. And even though hearing you is making him dizzy with a fucked up sort of desire, echoes of your pleasured sounds ringing in his ears, he manages to maintain composure when you say, “can I please come over?”

“Don't think that's the best idea,” he mutters. The lack of conviction in his words would likely be painfully obvious if you weren't intoxicated. But you are, and you whine through the receiver at his rejection.

Dave fights to ignore the increasing stiffness in his boxers.

“Please,” you beg. Fuck, he loves the way you sound when you beg. “I just got off the phone with my dad…he doesn't want me coming home so drunk; said he's working on a case and I’ll be a nuisance.”

His heart breaks for you. For the girl who just wants a father who loves her, who sees her as a person with feelings. Dave can't imagine ever treating his daughters this way. Would never dream of it.

“C-can I?” your voice sounds through the speaker again — softer, less sure. Like you've prepared yourself already for the blow of him rejecting you too.

“Can't– can’t you stay with one of your friends?”

You sigh, defeated. “I want to stay with you.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. God, it would be so easy to say yes. To go and pick you up from the bar himself, bring you back to his place. Help you sober up a bit and fuck you until you can't take it anymore. But he can’t; he shouldn't even be speaking to you right now. He needs to cut this off. Needs to make it clear to you that you can't reach out to him again.

“You– we can’t.” He’s stern, direct. It pains him. “The other night shouldn’t have happened.” True, though he doesn’t regret it. Not one bit.

You’re quiet on the other end of the line for a second too long. When you finally do speak again, your voice breaks.

“You don’t like me?”

He’s going to tell you that of course that’s not it, that he’s been thinking about you constantly, that he wishes he could get you out of his fucking head. But he doesn’t get the chance. Because your friends are laughing boisterously around you, then, sounds growing more and more muffled through the speaker, and you’re telling him rather unceremoniously that you have to go.

The call disconnects with a beep.

You wake the following morning with a dizzying headache, daylight burning a hole between your eyes. With your friend still soundly asleep, you slip out of her room and then her apartment; find yourself home just as your father is getting ready to leave for work.

His travel mug sits on the entrance table as he pulls his shoes on, and you're immediately met with the smells of coffee and his leathery cologne.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he mutters as he grabs his briefcase. You don't dare look him in the eyes, lest you be met with their disapproving stare.

“Hi,” you reply, small and non confrontational. When he doesn't answer, you continue past him, begin your ascent up the stairs toward your room.

“Not very appropriate for a young professional, going out and getting wasted. Your future employer could've been there. Could've seen you acting like an imbecile.”

Annoyance furls behind your temples; makes the pounding in your head grow tenfold.

“Well then they probably won't be my future employer,” you snip.

“Probably not.”

You hear the front door close behind you and, with an agitated sigh, drag your feet the rest of the way up the stairs. You fall onto the covers of your bed, well aware that you should probably shower, but your body feels too heavy, in no way ready to move again just yet.

When you pull out your phone, ready for some mindless scrolling to numb your thoughts for a while, you’re met with a notification that sends your heart racing.

Have fun last night?

From David, sent five minutes ago.

You hastily scroll up, reading your own texts from last night, full of typos and barely coherent. csnt stop thinking about u. Your head falls back with a groan. You had gone out to forget about him, not to drunkenly confess your feelings to him in the middle of the night.

Now that you’re thinking about it, you also vaguely recall speaking to him. You tap on your call log and sure enough, there’s his name, only minutes after you texted him. You have no idea what you might have said to him, only a blurry memory of being upset about something. Great, this is great.

Sighing deeply, you go back to messages.

i was very drunk. sorry for bothering you

His reply comes almost instantly.

Who said you bothered me?

You’ve only met him once, and yet you can picture his smirk as if you’ve seen it a thousand times.

Dave is sipping his coffee, black, no sugar, and listens to Jim going over his plans for the both of them going golfing next weekend, humming occasionally.

It pains him, looking at the man in front of him, while your voice from last night is still ringing through his head. How hurt you sounded, looking for a place to stay, not being welcome in your own home.

When Jim stands up to leave for work, he remains seated, gesturing towards his half eaten bagel, but assuring the other man that he doesn’t have to wait for him.

You still haven’t left his thoughts. If anything, the longing he feels for you has gotten worse since you told him how much you want to see him again. And he’s so tired of denying himself the one thing he really wants.

He’s patient, chipping away at the bagel until he sees your father’s gray Dodge peel out of the parking lot. And then he gives it another 10 minutes, just to be safe.

Come join me for coffee? I’m downtown at Roasted Beans.

You respond moments later — such an obedient little thing, you are — letting him know you’ll be there shortly. He finishes off his drink, discards the cup along with the bagel wrapper, and orders two fresh coffees.

He sees you before you see him. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly, you look so cute as you scan the cafe. You’re wearing a sundress, the blue fabric dancing around your thighs with every turn of your body, and Dave finds himself entranced by you.

You smile when you finally catch sight of him, your entire face lighting up and he smiles back without a second thought.

You shouldn’t meet him again. You really, really shouldn’t. But the conversation with your father this morning keeps replaying in your head, the disapproval weighing heavy on you, the feeling of being unable to do anything right.

You long for someone to look at you without judgment, for the sound of good girl against your skin. You long for David.

After last night and the fact that he obviously didn’t invite you over, you had thought that for him, maybe it really had been a just one time thing. Like you both had agreed on multiple times.

But then he’d texted you again, asking you to meet him. It’s almost embarrassing, how quickly you got ready, eager to see him again, despite knowing better.

On the drive over, you run through countless discussions in your head, trying to decide what you’re going to say to him. You have to be reasonable. There’s too much at stake. David is a mistake that you wouldn’t be able to come back from. You’re just going to meet him because he asked you to, because that’s the nice thing to do. It’ll just be coffee, nothing more.

Your resolve crumbles as soon as you see him. His eyes are already on you, their expression so full of want that it makes you ache. You walk over, feigning confidence as you slide onto the chair next to his, a quiet greeting on your lips. The deep, smooth sound of his voice when he returns it is enough to make you melt.

He has already ordered for you. It’s a small thing, rationally, but it’s once again more care, more attention than you’re used to. Warmth is spreading through your chest, but you try steeling yourself, forcing out the words that you’ve prepared to say.

“Listen, I want to apologize about last night. I shouldn’t have– I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m sorry for bothering–”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He interrupts your nervous stuttering, his hand gently wrapping around yours on the table. “I already told you that you didn’t bother me. If anything–” He sighs, his grip tightening. “I’m the one who’s sorry, you were looking for somewhere to stay, I shouldn’t have turned you down like that.”

It breaks Dave’s heart, seeing how you’re making yourself smaller, how ready you seem for him to scold you. Your quiet You don’t like me? still echoes in his mind. How your own father didn’t care where his daughter spent the night, as long as she didn’t come home. Didn’t bother him.

He clocked the way your eyes widened in surprise at the coffee that he got you, how you huff a relieved breath when he assures you again that he’s not annoyed with you. You’re so sweet, so deserving of being loved and cared for, and he so desperately wants to be the person who does that for you.

He felt the same pull from that night towards you as soon as he laid eyes on you again, and it’s only gotten worse, now that you’re right next to him, now that he’s touching the soft surface of your hand. He vividly remembers how your skin felt under his fingertips, how you writhed against him.

The urge to get just a taste of that again becomes overwhelming. He holds your gaze as his fingers start gliding over your thighs under the table, inching towards the hem of your dress. Your lips part, the softest whimper escaping your throat at his touch.

He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t be touching you like this, shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. Can’t stop thinking about you. I want to stay with you. How is he supposed to keep away, to stop himself, when you come to him so willingly, so desperate to be wanted?

“David?” Fuck, he loves that you call him that. “Will you take me home with you? Please?”

He can tell that you’re scared to ask, bracing yourself to be rejected again. He’s not nearly as strong as you think he is.

“Yes. Come on.”

He pulls you to your feet and out of the door before either of you have the chance to change your minds.

He’s a bad man, shouldn’t be getting off on having total control over you like this. He’s probably sick; should see that shrink Carol recommended a couple months ago after the divorce was officially finalized. But the way you’re looking at him — with the same big-eyed, doleful stare you’d given him that first night — tells him you want this. Need this, even. You long to relinquish control to someone other than your hawkish father.

So pliant in his lap, limbs all gooey and relaxed under his touch, it’s clear that you trust him. Maybe more than he trusts himself.

You’re spread out on his couch, clothes hastily discarded as soon as the both of you stumbled over the threshold, already entangled in each other. He’s led you to the living room, the thought of fucking you in his bed, of your presence lingering there, your scent permeating his sheets, the last invisible line that he’s determined not to cross.

He has been toying with your body, collected your wrists in a hold over your head and told you to keep them there while he flicked and tugged on your nipples, sucked marks into your skin while you writhed underneath him.

He’s taking it slow, now that you’re here with him, now that he has the time to thoroughly break you down and put you back together again.

You’re already soaked when he sinks a finger into you, your tight walls clenching around him immediately. You coo up at him — a needy little noise that has his resolve disintegrating in seconds flat — and you look relieved when his hand loosely wraps around your throat.

“Please,” you whisper then, and he tuts.

“You want me to take care of you?”

You nod.

“Then you take what I give you. No begging. Do I make myself clear?”

Another noise — this one smaller, stuck in your throat — and he’s pulling his finger out of you again, lips curling into a cruel smile.

He doesn’t give you any time to prepare before the first slap lands on your already-throbbing clit. You can’t help but shriek. In response, he tightens the grip on your throat slightly. Gives three more stinging smacks in quick succession. Dave almost doesn’t notice when your eyes begin to roll back. He does notice, however, when your hips begin to roll upward, your body chasing his hand.

“Oh, such a good girl you are,” he praises.

Slap.

“You love this, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you moan, garbled and a little breathless.

Slap.

“Pathetic little girl. Bet you could come just from this, you’re so desperate. Couldn’t you?”

You gasp.

Slap.

“Answer me,” Dave demands. “Or I’ll stop.”

It’s almost comical how quickly you sputter the word yes, eyes desperately pleading with him to keep going. And he’s almost shocked just how badly you needed this. In this moment, any guilt he’d been feeling is replaced with the desperate desire to give you exactly what you crave.

He slaps you again, a little harder this time, and you wail. Your legs are trembling, but you make no move to close them, keeping yourself spread wide open and accessible for him.

He’s throbbing, fighting the urge to sink his cock into your tight heat, but he wants, needs to know how far he can push you. How far you’ll go for him.

You’re dripping onto his cushions and he collects some of your slick with his fingers, rubs them against your clit. Your skin is burning under his fingertips. He teases the oversensitive nub with gentle touches, relishes in the way your eyes are glued to his face, the way your lips are trembling as you’re silently pleading with him.

No words are escaping you, and you’re so good, making him so proud with how you’re following his commands.

He slaps your clit again, and again, and again, until you’re a babbling mess, your throat constricting against his grip and your back arching as you come with a cry. Wetness floods out of you and you’re shuddering in his hold, broken whimpers of his name falling from your lips.

He watches with sick fascination, almost unable to believe that he drove you to this point. How much you enjoy being treated like this. That you’re just as twisted as he is.

When you come down, your arms weakly reach for him and he scoops you up, pulls you into his lap until your face is nuzzled into his neck.

“Good girl,” he coos, gently stroking your hair, “you did so good.”

He gives you a few moments to rest, tracing shapes across your back, until his fingers dip deeper, gliding over your ass and between your spread legs, where you’re still so fucking wet.

You squirm under his touch, needy little sounds traveling up to his ears once more. “Please,” you whisper.

One hand grabs into your hair, pulling your head back until he can see your face. You look wrecked. Pupils blown wide, your eyes wet with tears, but what really gets him is the way you look at him. He had worried, for a second, that he might have been too rough, but there’s only pure trust and longing in your eyes.

“I thought I told you no begging.”

You bite your lip, furrow your brow in that adorable way of yours. “I’m sorry. It just– it all feels so good.”

He presses his thumb down on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.

“I know it does, sweetheart. You need more?”

You nod quietly, your eyes wide and pleading.

“Alright then.” He turns you over so quickly that you gasp, scrambling for a second to get your bearings. You’re on all fours, your legs still spread, your ass on display for him.

He had wanted to prepare you a little more, to give you several of his fingers first before he stretches you out on his cock, but he can’t possibly hold back any longer. Judging from the loud moan that you let out, he thinks that you like the sting of him sinking into you unprepared.

It’s even better than he remembers, your slick walls engulfing him so tightly. He starts pounding into you, the depth of his thrusts jolting your body forward and forcing more sounds from you.

He wants you to still feel him tomorrow, wants you to remember him, wants to stake a claim that he knows he doesn’t have. He groans your name, his fingers digging into your hips, greedy for every part of you that he can reach.

Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect, giving yourself to him like this.

“Come on,” he growls, reaching down to find your clit again, rubbing in tight circles. “Give me another one.”

You cry out, pushing back against him. So fucking eager. He lands two quick slaps on your ass and you fall apart, trembling wildly as your walls pulse around him and you scream out his name.

He can’t hold himself back any more and follows you over the edge, pumping into you once more and holding your hips pressed against his.

You both collapse down onto his couch, a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs and quick breaths. You curl your body into his and he presses kisses against your cheeks, your temples, your lips.

Slowly, as he’s coming back to his senses, the guilt settles in.

He lets go of you much too quickly, stands up and starts getting dressed quietly. You watch him for a moment, wracking your mind for something to say, before he looks at you.

“Get dressed. I’ll drive you home.”

He sounds cold, distant. So different from the man who just took you to heights that you didn’t know existed until now. You suppress a shiver and get up hastily. Suddenly, being naked around him feels much too exposed, too vulnerable for your liking.

You pull your dress over your head and slide your shoes back on, but one crucial item is missing.

“Did– did you see my underwear?” you force yourself to ask. He shakes his head, not gracing you with a verbal answer.

Eventually, you give up the search and follow him down the stairs and into his car. The silence grows, until its weight is pressing down, almost suffocating you. You steal glances at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road, staring straight ahead, never wavering. A muscle in his jaw is ticking.

The mix of his spend and yours is pooling between your legs, but it makes you feel dirty now. You force down the lump that’s building in your throat.

When he stops in front of your house, you scramble out of the car without a word. You don’t know what would be worse, if he said goodbye like nothing was wrong or if he remained silent. You don’t want to find out.

It’s late in the evening, you’re lying on your bed, eyelids squeezed shut, willing sleep to finally overtake you. Thoughts keep spiraling through your head, so many questions that you have no answers to.

He asked you to meet up, for fuck’s sake. You don’t understand why he’s treating you like this, but you’re determined to not let it happen again. Just two times, you think with a bitter scoff.

Your phone vibrates on your bedside table, indicating a new message.

[11:55pm] I can’t stop thinking about you either.

Attached is a photo. A photo of a familiar lacy scrap of fabric, grasped in his hand and covered in milky white cum.

It’s filthy, and wrong, and you feel yourself getting obscenely wet at the thought of him touching himself with your missing panties clutched between his fingers.

Maybe just one more time.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#janas fics #fic: wildest dreams #dave york x reader #dave york #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedrostories

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vamph00n · 26 days

Note

idea, but idk if you take ideas

reader gets turned on by hoon’s vampire like features, and convinces him to rp as one while they’re fucking

mdni

tags: femreader, vampire kink, mentions of the twilight movies, hoon is jealous obv.

*not proofread will do later

wc: 1,2k

smut tags under the cut

i added my own lil spin on it annonie~ mainly cause i’ve been rewatching twilight rndjsoskdndknsla

smut tags: biting kink, implications of sex, dirty talk, chest groping, etc

he doesn’t know how many times you watched those stupid twilight movies. all he knew is that you fawned over some guy in those films with the most victorian name ever. he wasn’t your type and sunghoon was sure of it, why would he be your type when he; your boyfriend, was right there? nah, he didn’t like that you thought of any other men than him. even if he was fictional.

you had all the books too, along with whatever smutty literature he saw on that well dusted shelf in your house. you lived in those dirty fantasies when he was right there. the way you’d kick your feet and giggle while watching those movies. it really pissed him off, it was all imaginary, pretend. it was stupid for him to be so jealous, but god there was one thing he hated the most about your little hyper fixation…

well, the thing is sunghoon doesn’t want to come off as a pissy bitch. he’ll happily go along with whatever endeavors you put him through. it’s just when you make him watch the same few movies with you again, he felt his ego shrink every passing second spent staring at robert pattinson play a vampire. especially when your comments consisted of comparisons between him and edward whats-his-face’s character.

“look at him hoon, he’s like all sparkly in the sun, n’ he has like this mad gaze.” Your eyes pan over to your boyfriend, watching him stare at the tv blankly, in a boredom induced daze.

he’s tuning out what you’re saying, because well, it makes him feel somewhat inadequate. it’s so rare for him to feel this way. he’s so self assured, maybe even a little egotistical sometimes. how can he not be? you yourself loaded up his little brain with compliments and ideas. saying how he’s the man of your fucking dreams, or the way your body contorted in different ways, becoming helpless when he did so little as touching you. hell yeah, you made him feel so damn special.

with his brows furrowed at the screen, he sees your odd stare from the corner of his eye. why do anything to reassure you of what you were thinking in that moment? he knows you, he can practically read your mind. before diverting your attention back to the screen a scoff leaves your mouth. call him petty or whatever you want, he just wants to get through watching this god forsaken movie for the millionth time without his brain frying.

sunghoon is so ridged. his arms are crossed, and he’s like, all stiff. whatever, you can deal with it. although it’s frustrating that he’s so oblivious.

you find yourself scooting closer, leaning and commenting on the movie. with each sentence you say, you can feel his dreary attitude loom over. it’s given, you’ve forced him to death watch your silly little movies to the point where he himself can recite each word.

“he’s like, —i don’t know. like can you imagine? getting puncture wounds, and hickeys at the same—“

that’s where sunghoon draws the line.

“can you shut up?”

dang. he was livid. you have right to your own thoughts but to think like that? when he’s right there? when he can well rip off your panties and fuck you the way this guy can’t because it’s all speculative? all you had to do was let him, just ask and he’ll deliver. you know it.

but then again, you boyfriend is as dense as concrete and dumb as bricks sometimes. guess you’d have to give him a nudge, a hint too probably.

“i mean, can you imagine what’s it like to be a vampire?”

you’ve practically told him what you wanted, and he still has that red cloudy look of jealousy with somewhat of a frown on his face and his overgrown bangs shading his eyes. if he wasn’t upset, you’d tell him how cute he looks right now. how dumb he is, is also what you’d tell him. then again you weren’t exactly being straightforward.

with your question slipping in one ear and out the other, he just tunes you out. yeah it’s pathetic he feels so strongly about something so meaningless, could he help it though? he was insane about you.

your eyes darken as you grab the remote, and thank goodness you turned it off. sunghoon finds you sliding on of your legs over his thighs as you take a seat. you gaze into his eyes, he looks annoyed. he’s suppressing the urge to just fuck the stupid crush you had on that twilight vampire out of you. it makes you laugh at how blind he is. nevermind, you probably had to spell it out for him.

“you can do that. you can bite me here, and here-“

you drag your two fingers indicating where he could, and his breath hitches. it’s like all his senses are tingly, and piercing. his ears are ringing, with the rush of adrenaline and the newfound excitement he had. just hearing you describe what you wanted him to do.

you saw his jaw hang slack, as you merely told him what you wanted. tracing your fingers down your abdomen and to your thighs, you tap on the fleshy inner part.

“you can bite here too.”

his hands grab your hips, he gets it now. he slides a hand up your shirt holding your chest. your mind drives him crazy. his touch sends shivers down your spine.

“here too?” he asks asks, so politely.

it makes you heat up, and become more wet than your imagination allowed. when you thought of him like the cold blooded undead he resembled so much, it made you infatuated with the idea of it. the idea of him. how could he not see it? when you drew comparisons that surely pointed towards his own features that you loved so much.

his pretty skin glows in the dim light of your living room unlike of that portrayed in the movie. he’s real, and right here.

“didn’t you ever think, perhaps..” you say it so sweetly as you feel his hand roam around your body.

before you can finish your sentence, your breath is cut short. your back is now against the cushions of the couch, and his arms trap you beneath him. sunghoon wonders how he got so lucky, to have someone like you to show him all the ways he can make you wet. your so sick and twisted, not for your little fantasy you wanted him to indulge in, but the fact you didn’t just tell him straight up. he ought to punish you.

he’ll let it slide though. partially because he feels his cock twitch restrained by his pants, and because he’s so willing to do what you ask of him. he knows this is the just the beginning, and honestly he’ll have fun woh it. so with his lips ghosting your neck, and his hot breath up against your ear he asks you a question.

“tell me what else you want me to do as your vampire. sweetheart”

#enhypen #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #boost #enha #sunghoon #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon vampire #roleplay #vampire k!nk #biting k!nk #redacted

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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months

Text

— MY YOU

SUMMARY : part v of gimme half. the first valentine’s day with dean winchester and he is just absolutely adorable… for like the first half of this fic, the other half is filthy.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v

WORD COUNT : 1.9k

A/N : jung kook song title. my you is why I have the #my dean ✨ tag ☺️ I don’t know if I named the cat before, but the cat's name is Mona-Lisa now and he’s a boy! oh and happy birthday @girls-alias💓

When you got home from work you didn’t expect to open the door to your cat, Mona-Lisa, frolicking in a path of colourful rose petals leading up to your bedroom. You smiled at the sight of him as you stepped out of your heels and shoved them into the corner with your foot—next to Dean’s boots—to put away later.

Mona-Lisa had a few red and pink petals stuck to his sharp teeth and some stuck to his soft, furry body, but he gladly accepted his fate when you picked him up in your arms. Dean was the culprit behind the romantic scene of your darkened home and it made you smile, your stomach jittery despite never really giving a damn about some stupid love holiday.

Mona-Lisa’s cute paws rested on your shoulders and his nose nuzzled into your hair before he decided to take a bite out of your shoulder when you continued to carry him up the steps. It was a soft and playful bite for the most part, and it made you laugh.

When you got to your bedroom, where you suspected Dean was waiting for you, Mona-Lisa sprung from your arms to get through the barely-opened door. Dean had his back to the door and a lighter in his hand that he used to light one of the many candles he’d placed in your bedroom.

“Wow, if there’s a fire, I’m suing you,” you teased with a grin, watching Dean turn around carefully to avoid stepping on Mona-Lisa—who was walking in circles around Dean’s feet with his tail up.

Dean smiled shyly, clearly caught off guard. “Hey,” he greeted you, placing the lighter next to the candle he just lit. You walked towards him and let him wrap his arms around you while his lips pressed to the corner of your mouth. “Happy Valentine’s Day?” He shrugged, sounding a little unsure of whether or not he was supposed to say that. “Should I have asked you to be my Valentine? I- uh, I’ve never done this before,” he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

You cupped his flushed cheeks and brought him down for a kiss that made his shoulders drop. Dean breathed softly against your lips and melted into you. His hands moved down to your hips and they flexed over the softness of your dress before he pulled you closer to him.

“I… I don’t think you need to ask,” you smiled, kissing him softly when he dove back in for more.

“Then… what do you think?” He chuckled, slowly sliding his hands down to your ass. He squeezed gently and you bit your lip, hesitantly looking away from his adorably flustered face to admire his work. “I’m not being cheap,” he began to explain himself, “I was just, uh- well, I didn’t know if you were the type to want to celebrate Valentine’s Day— not that there’s anything wrong with that— and I really just did this last minute for you. You know, in case you were into this t-”

“Dean,” you interrupted his rambling with a small giggle. He exhaled and forced a laugh to convince you that he was being cool. “I love it, and.. you look so cute standing right here like this, so stop overthinking it,” you reassured him, gripping his flannel to pull him down for a longer, deeper kiss to express your gratitude.

Dean’s hands moved lower to your thighs and you felt him bend his knees just as he titled his head, parting from your lips for a quick breath. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lifted you in his arms, and your legs squeezed his hips.

You buried your fingers into his hair, moaning against his mouth. His hands moved along your back, over your legs, squeezing and kneading. He moved towards the bed, stopping momentarily when his knees hit the mattress.

He held you tight and lowered you onto the bed carefully, his lips hovering above yours. His green eyes travelled over your face and you averted your gaze as if it would stop him. Your hands slipped away from his hair, your legs fell open, and you turned your head to the side, relaxing despite the nervous thud of your heart.

Dean’s lips latched on to your neck, his stubble scraped over your soft skin. Your eyes fell shut and you shivered. Arousal began to warm up your body and dampen your underwear. Dean nipped at your skin, pressed hot, open-mouth kisses over the skin not covered by your dress, flicked his tongue over your skin.

“Where’d you get all this stuff?” You whispered, grabbing a handful of flower petals and candy from the bed before letting it fall back down. Dean slowly turned away from your chest with a playful laugh getting muffled against your skin.

“I stole those roses from Poppy, or whatever her name is, two houses down. And… those are the leftover chocolates from the Halloween bucket… and… well, I always have candles just in case,” he told you, nuzzling the side of his face into your breasts. You smirked at him, but then your eyes softened when he looked up at you, his thick lashes fluttering against his freckled cheeks.

“Hunting stuff?” You asked, sneaking your hands under his warm flannel to push it off his shoulders. Dean pushed himself off you to shrug the thick shirt off his body and you bit your lip. His t-shirt stretched tightly across his chest and his jeans did the same over his taught thighs. “Are you wearing cute Valentine’s Day lingerie underneath?” You teased, hooking your fingers on his belt loops to tug him closer between your legs.

“N-no? Should I?” He teased back, teasingly letting his fingers glide along the inside of your thighs.

“Next time,” you murmured, pulling his belt with a pout.

“Next time,” he breathed out a laugh, undoing his belt with one hand and lifting your dress up your thighs with the other. “Are you? Wearing pink lingerie underneath?” Dean hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and waited for you to respond before tugging them down.

“No,” you grinned.

“Good, I would’ve ripped it off you anyway.” And he did just that, in one swift move, your underwear tore audibly, and he threw it over to the floor carelessly.

“Poppy’s going to kill you for damaging her roses,” you mumbled against his lips—which were stretched into a mischievous smile. Dean slowly pulled away with a few final pecks to your lips and started going down your body, his breath puffing over your glistening cunt.

“Only if she finds out it was me,” he hummed, his warm tongue licking up from your entrance to your clit. You gasped and pressed your head deeper into the mattress, your eyes squeezing shut and your hands gripping his hair.

Dean made you come twice, once with his thumb on your swollen clit and his tongue inside your pulsing walls, and a second time with his tongue on your clit and three of his fingers inside your used cunt.

You whined and whimpered his name as your body convulsed and your legs shook beside his head after each orgasm. Your body couldn’t handle much more, but Dean was persistent, encouraging and comforting you.

He paused momentarily as you caught your breath. Your head buzzed and your vision was blurry, your heart pounded in your ears, and your skin was flushed. Dean bunched your dress at your waist, your nipples were hard and sensitive from his mouth and his fingers, but goddamn, you wanted more.

You could feel Dean’s gentle fingers on your sloppy cunt, soothingly brushing his thumb around your overstimulated clit. His tongue lapped at yours and you could taste yourself in his mouth, his lips were glossed with your release, but you didn’t care.

You weakly held his taut biceps, your nails clawed at the hard muscles as they moved with every dip of his body into you. The cotton of his t-shirt brushed against your pebbled nipples causing you to shudder and moan into his skillful mouth.

“One more,” he murmured, sucking on your bottom lip before pushing three of his fingers back into your slick pussy. You inhaled sharply and scratched his arms when he knowingly curled his fingers into that same spot inside you over and over.

“Dammit… Dean,” you sobbed, your body tensing, head turning to the side. Your stomach fluttered with excitement despite the shake of your legs on either side of Dean’s hips and the quivering of your cunt. Dean breathed heavily above you, his chin tucked into his chest as he stared shamelessly between your legs.

He continued to thrust his fingers into you, shallowly and precise, driven by the pornographic sound of his fingers plunging into your wet heat and the breathy sounds of pleasure you made. Your hands twisting in his shirt and you cried from how sensitive you were, only partially amused because it felt so good all at once.

Your body was overflowed with so much happiness and pleasure that you completely let go as your third orgasmed seized your body. A moan of Dean’s name caught in your throat and all that left your kiss swollen lips was a strangled sound of bliss.

“Fuck,” Dean whispered against your jaw, his eyes fixed between your legs, “that’s right, sweetheart.” His teeth sank into your jawline and you felt him slide down between your legs. He used his tongue to lap up your release from your dripping pussy and kissed your thighs adoringly.

“I…” you exhaled, eyes opening slowly to look down at Dean between the wet mess between your legs. “Fuck, d-did I..?” You couldn’t finish the sentence as embarrassment burned at your cheeks, but Dean looked more than pleased with himself as he licked his fingers clean of your fluids.

“Yup, and it was hot,” he smirked, which magically made you feel slightly better about squirting. Dean pulled the dress from your waist, nearly yanking it down your weak legs to join your ruined underwear on the floor.

You sat up carefully, frowning at the wetness on the bed that Dean didn’t really care about. He pulled his shirt over his head and you imagined that you literally drooled at the sight of him and his flushed skin. It was covered in freckles and scars, and it always managed to look pretty and hot. You snapped out of your trance when he unbuttoned his jeans and started unzipping them.

“You said one more,” you complained with a laugh, watching him slip out of bed to remove his jeans and boxers properly. You changed your mind when you saw Dean’s cock, the way it throbbed and bounced as he climbed back into bed between your legs. The wet tip was glistening with smeared precum that continued to dribble out of the slit. “…But I’m glad you lied,” you grinned, pushing Dean onto his back when you kissed him.

“I didn’t lie…” he pouted, his dimples deepening above his lips. You tilted your head and gazed down at him with an expression of amusement on your face, your eyes glittering with internal laughter. “…I… just lost count ‘cause you’re so hot.”

Dean smoothly slipped out from underneath you and draped himself over your back. He kissed your shoulders and lifted your hips to position his cock at your soppy entrance. You moaned instantly when he pushed himself inside you, silky skin sinking easily into your wet cunt.

“Waffles for dinner?” He panted into your ear, the grin on his face seeping into his voice.

“Yup,” you moaned, reaching between your legs where Dean’s fingers were toying with your sensitive clit.

➥

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bxtchycaprisun · 9 months

Text

obstinate (4) | a. anderson

summary: you’re a new medic in the WLF base. you’re young, hardworking, and the thing that abby anderson hated the most, stubborn.

notes: fem!reader, medic!reader, protective!abby, soldier!abby, mentions of injuries, civil conversation (for once 😮), mutual pining, this might be my fav chapter i’ve written so far

taglist: @caitlinisfruity @shaemonyou @mattm1964 @vigelvictoria @liabadoobee @shady-lemur @sweet-lover-girl @sweet-cow-nectar @anxiouso @novadanversss @paleidiot @makepastanotwar13 @juneswonderlust @ratdungeon @elliesrealw1fe @feelsoseencantdream (striked text means i can’t tag u)

an: here it is folks, eat up

MDNI!!

abby’s head hung low as she was hauled to the infirmary.

the bullet that was currently lodged in her shoulder hurt like a bitch. there were beads of sweat adorning her forehead and collarbones, and her brows furrowed from the sharp sting in her arm. but that wasn’t what mattered at the moment. she could care less about the pain.

what she did care about was the fact that her patrol had almost been over, and she was going to enjoy her full day off tomorrow, when she was ambushed, and shot. she had spent the entire day blowing off some steam, and planned to get a well needed night of sleep before an important conversation tomorrow.

believe it or not, she was going to pay a visit to your doorstep that upcoming day. not to apologize, obviously, that wasn’t her style. instead to make a proposition.

but of course, the universe had other plans for her. instead, she felt herself slipping in and out of a pained consciousness as her fellow soldiers lifted her onto a stiff hospital bed.

a familiar hand brushed her face, a thumb pressed firmly against her cheekbone as another finger peeled her eyelid upward, shining a bright light into her pupil. as she squints up at the ceiling, eyes adjusting to the bright infirmary lights, she heard a small chuckle before her.

“christ, anderson,” you shake your head, quick fingers cutting away her t shirt with your fabric scissors. “you’re not looking too hot.”

abby groans, instantly recognizing your familiar voice and soft hands. of course it would be you to treat her. she must have some really damn bad karma.

“don’t-” she shakes her head weakly, voice small, “don’t even start.”

abby was fully conscious now, eyes blown wide and face red as you cleaned up the wound, prepping it for surgery. she watched you with shallow breathes, simply accepting your taunting. she knew she had it coming.

“what was that you said, yesterday?” you ask slowly, voice dripping with sarcasm, “you haven’t been hit on the field in over a year?”

“shut up,” abby says in a hiss, her face pinching as you sanitize the wound. her fingers grip the edge of the bed, knuckles whitening. you notice her pain, and mumble “m’sorry,” as you clean her up. as much as you wish you did, you really didn’t enjoy seeing her like this.

“don’t think.. don’t think this’ll mean i’ll change my mind ‘bout anything,” abby brings up a weak hand, pointing at you with narrowed eyes.

“course not,” you shake your head, biting back a smile. you couldn’t even be upset by her comment. you were stubborn, and so was she. the last thing you wanted to be was a hypocrite.

“listen um-” you bite the inside of your lip, “the bullets shattered.”

she hums frustratedly, “figures.”

“i’m gonna put you under general anesthesia,” you move swiftly, prepping her forearm for an IV as you call over mel to control her dosage.

“try not to kill me while i’m under, will ya?” she says with a frown, but her eyes crease as if she’s smiling.

you laugh quietly, glad to see she was the same old abby, even in her worst.

“another time,” was the last thing she heard before going under.

. . .

abby woke up with little feeling in her body. she didn’t know what time it was, but judging from the dimly lit halls of the infirmary, and quiet buzz of conversation just around then corner, she could tell it was night.

she sat up with a grunt, gripping her left shoulder and feeling around at the intricately wrapped bandages. her eyes travel around the room, landing on the small table beside her. she picked up an orange pill bottle, reading the label carefully.

it was vicodin.

her eyes widen a bit. either mel was feeling generous today, or you had gone out of your way to get her extra good opioids. she furrowed her brows at the thought of the latter.

her gaze lifts as she hears footsteps entering her mostly empty tent. you rub your eyes as you step into the room, and full glass of water in your hand.

you walk to her bedside, smiling tightly. “you’re awake.” you say softly. you place a hand on her uninjured shoulder, and push her back against the bed gently, ignoring her mumbling protests. “you shouldn’t be sitting up.”

you grab the bottle and open it, dumping a single pill onto your hand, whispering, “open”

she nods, accepting the pill you set on her tongue and taking a sip of the water. her voice is hoarse as she speaks. “i’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

you breath in sharply, “you’re talking.”

“no i mean..” she begins, but you cut her off.

“abby, you really should just rest.”

“i’m fine,” she insists, craning her neck forward as she goes to sit up again. you click your tongue, pushing her back down. “please?” she whispers.

you snap your mouth shut, eyeing her suspiciously. “you gonna apologize?”

she scoffs. “no.”

“alright,” you chuckle dryly, “then please just rest.”

“why would i apologize?” she snaps, titling her head. “you should thank me, y’know, for keeping you out of the serevena. i mean, if this is the state i’m in, i can’t imagine how you’d have ended up.”

you roll your eyes, scolding yourself for thinking she’d have been any different today. “thank you, abby” you whisper sarcastically, “for saving my ass, healing my shoulder, and caring for me as i recover.” you take a long pause for dramatic effect. “oh wait. that was me.”

abby opens her mouth to bite back, but looks down. “thank you.” she says quietly. “i did mean to say that sooner. thank you.”

you nod, smiling slightly. “just doin my job.”

abby can’t help it as she says, “you give vicodin to every patient as a part of said job?”

you clench your jaw, feeling exposed. “you’re a top soldier, abby.” you respond slowly, “of course you’re going to get the good stuff.”

she nods, a smile creeping on her lips at your obvious discomfort. “right.”

a familiar silence falls upon the room as you step back from the bed. she watches you with parted lips, looking as if her words are stuck in her throat. “i have.. i have a proposition for you.”

you nearly snort at her choice of words, and you look down at her with an amused smirk. “a proposition?”

she snickers weakly, “i know that sounds weird, but, i need you to hear me out.”

you nod, tensing up a bit at the seriousness of her voice. you didn’t want to begin guessing what this was about. “okay… i’m listening.”

“you want to be able to go on patrol, isn’t that right?” she begins slowly, her voice low.

you nod carefully, humming “that’s right.”

“but from what i’ve seen, i can tell you’re not ready for that, is that correct?”

you inhale with a frown. “that’s what you think, yes.”

she chuckles at your clever remark. “you heard what isaac told the both of us. if you don’t get an okay from me, you can’t patrol.” she says with a grin.

you feel your face growing a bit hot. “what’re you doing abby? you just saying that to rub it in? trust me, you made your point pretty clear when you practically tackled me.”

tackled wasn’t exactly the word you used for it in your head, but it was safer to say than the alternative.

when she pressed you against a wall. when she held you to the ground. when you could practically feel her lips against your neck as she whispered to you. yeah no. tackled it is.

“i’m not trying to prove a point,” she hums, sitting up a bit once again. when you open your mouth to order her to lay back, she hushes you with a hand in your face. “don’t.”

you purse your lips and step back, giving up as she leans forward, large hand on her knee. “you couldn’t fight me off last night.”

your eyes narrow. “no abby. i couldn’t.” you throw your hands up, and cross them over your chest. “but majority of scars aren’t built like y-you..” you gesture at her arms, but trail off, your internal monologue telling you to just stop talking.

“built like what?” her smile is now wide and beaming. her fingers clutch her knee, and you can see her muscles flex. real subtle abby.

“never mind,” you huff. “what i mean, abby, is that most of our enemies aren’t like you. they don’t have a fully equipped gym, high protein diet, or even a steady roof over their heads. just because i can’t handle you, doesn’t mean i can’t handle them.”

“can’t handle me, huh?” she smirks and you nearly boil over.

she didn’t know why she was doing this. she shouldn’t flirt with you right now. she needed to convince you, not fluster you. but seeing the red tint on your cheeks, she just couldn’t help it.

and for you, watching her lick her lips, toned stomach exposed as she sits in only a black sports bra, you became weak.

“stop that.” you say quickly, your lips pulled into a stern pout.

“stop what?” she cocks her head.

“you- you know what- just.” you groan. “just get to your point, anderson.”

“you only call me that when you’re trying to act mad at me.”

“i don’t need to act mad, i am mad.”

“sure you are,” she puts a pretend frown on, “so mad.”

“abby…” you say her name warningly. “i don’t know what you think you’re doing, but it’s not working. get to your point.”

her smile softens a bit, and she sighs, humming your name. “you really won’t ever let me try to get along with you, will you?”

her questions catches you off guard a bit. you sit down on the edge of her firm bed, tucking your hair behind your ear. “that’s a two way street, abby.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“i mean.. you don’t let me get along with you either.” you say with a small shrug, “i feel like every time we have a conversation, you always find something to get on me about. and we end up fighting.”

abby sighs. “well that’s because… you always give me a reason to be upset.”

“or… because you overreact about things.” you say simply.

normally, abby would argue further. but watching the way your expression remains calm as you speak makes her soft. you were trying, and maybe she could do the same.

“maybe i do.”

her sentence is short, and her voice is firm. a lot was said in just those few words. it was more than she’d ever been able to admit in the past.

you surprise yourself as you hear the next words leave your mouth. “and maybe i… was a little too hard on you when you talked to isaac. i… didn’t mean what i said in the cafeteria.. about.. you thinking your better then everyone else.”

“i don’t.. think that.” she shakes her head with a grin, “only that i’m better than you.” her voice is playful, and it makes you crack a smile in return.

you look away from her, taking a deep breath as you listened to the whir of the fans in the tent. you could feel her eyes on you, and it makes your face hot.

you were still angry at her. you still couldn’t give her the satisfaction of thinking she was let off the hook.

she may have been charming, and her voice may be smooth, and she may make you nervous. and it was hard to ignore the fight in your mind as you look at her face, struggling to decide whether to memorize every freckle on her skin or just stare at her lips.

but she jeopardized your role in the WLF. she humiliated you, and she underestimated you, and she made you so desperately miss the girl you had first met.

she was acting awfully like that girl right now.

she wasn’t yelling at you, she was smiling at you. it made your stomach hurt.

you take a deep breath, finally meeting her eyes. “you… had a proposition,” you begin, “what was it?”

a part of you prayed that she would say something that made you mad again. it was easier that way. she was so much easier to be mad at when she wasn’t staring at you like she never meant a thing she did.

abby smiles. “you want to go on patrols, you have to train with me.”

you inhale from your nose, shaking your head. “abby, no.”

she whispers your name, followed by a “yes.”

“i’ll help you learn to shoot. i’ll help you learn to fight. i’ll make sure you can protect yourself.”

you frown, lowering your head. you couldn’t do this. you couldn’t be around her like this. she made you crazy. she made you want something she couldn’t give you.

you practically scream in your mind, yelling to snap the hell out of it! the two of you are constantly bouncing from simple conversations to jumping for each others throats. if you wanted to keep your sanity, and your dignity, you needed to avoid.

“that’s not gonna happen, abby,” you shake your head.

she doesn’t look surprised, nor does she look disappointed. she was determined.

“you’re never gonna go on patrol if you don’t agree to this.” she states.

you exhale through your teeth, rolling your eyes. “you’re… impossible.”

she chuckles, leaning towards you. “i’m not,” she laughs, “it’s a simple request. then i’ll leave you alone forever. free reign on the field.”

“i don’t have time for that, abby,” you shake your head, “i work too much here in the infirmary. it’s not gonna happen.”

“that’s exactly why you need me,” her voice is almost pleading. “you’re going to go insane in here. how long have you been here, anyways?”

“what do you mean?”

“how long have you been working? you were here before i came in, and you’re still here.”

“i’m used to it.” you respond quickly.

“how long,” she pressed with a raised eyebrow.

you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. “it’s a 24 hour shift. i’m almost over.”

she watches you through her blond lashes, her eyes softening.

she had always been praised for her work in the WLF. she got so many special privileges, attention, and respect. her work was rewarded, and people looked up to her.

and then there as you.

worked to the bone. face sunken from lack of sleep, yet a smile still so beautiful. you never got the recognition you deserved. you never got the love you deserved.

but from the way she was looking at you alone, you felt more appreciated than ever before.

“you don’t deserve that,” her voice is soft and gentle.

you remain silent as you stare at each other.

“when’s the last time you left the base?”

“uh-” you pause for a moment, “since the patrol with you.”

she sighs, leaning back a bit as her tongue rolls on the inside of her cheek. “you’re gonna go crazy if you stay in here.”

“yeah,” you answer, “thanks to you.” you instantly frown at yourself. why was this all you knew? why couldn’t you be civil?

abby doesn’t flinch from your words, however, only smiles more.

“you need me.”

you instantly break eye contact as she says this, your cheeks warming up.

“i-,” you exhale quickly, “what- what does that mean?”

“i mean, you need me to help you. i promise you, if you just train with me for a little while, i’ll let you go on whatever patrol you want.”

you shake your head, looking down, but she presses on.

“please? i just- i need to see that.. that you’ll be okay out there.”

“i will be.” your voice is shaky, meeting her same level of desperation. “just let me go. you’ll see, abby, you’ll see.”

“i’m not going to take that kind of risk,” her voice is more stern, “not when you can prove that to me here, in the safety of the base.”

“i’m not doing that, abby, so you can just forget it,” you can’t hide the frustration in your voice.

“why are you so god damn stubborn?” she raises her voice and you widen your eyes.

“i’m a grown woman, abby,” your tone is low, “i don’t need your help. and i don’t need your approval, so you can just forget it. i’d rather stay here at the infirmary, and go crazy.”

abby’s jaw clenches, and she rolls her head back. “you- just let me.. please?”

“no, okay?” you stand up. “look… i’ve gotta get back to work.” you reach to grab your bag, preparing to leave.

abby’s voice is sharp, and almost mean as she calls out to you. “are you even happy?”

you look at her with raised eyebrows, completely dumbfounded. “what?”

“you heard me.”

you stare at her, mouth open slightly. all you did was work, struggle to fall asleep, and suppress your feelings. happiness wasn’t something on your mind. it didn’t seem achievable.

“that doesn’t even matter,” you turn around again, but her voice stops you. your back faces her as she speaks.

“you need me.” she says quietly.

you don’t turn around as you respond. “what.. what are we even talking about right now?”

your question was bold, but so was her statement. were you reading this wrong? her words made you feel so light headed.

“i think you know what i’m talking about,” she says, tone low and sultry. you swallow hard, trying to stop your body from shaking.

when you don’t respond, abby takes it as a rejection.

“i’m sorry- that was.. that was out of line- i just mean, i think getting out of this place will give you some peace of mind,” she sounds almost insecure, “you need it.”

you can’t risk turning back around, fear of her seeing your red face, or the way your legs squeeze together. why’d she have to take it back?

your response is slow and soft. “i’ll.. i’ll be fine, abby. you should rest.” and you leave her with that as you exit the room, not daring to breath until you were out of her eyesight.

. . .

to your ultimate despair, you didn’t see abby anderson for an entire week.

you didn’t return to her bedside until she was admitted. you didn’t see her in the cafeteria, even when you went during normal breakfast hours. you didn’t see her stop into the infirmary. you didn’t see her anywhere.

and you knew it was purposeful.

you had shut her down, turned her away. and she didn’t know how to accept it.

even when she tried to be nice, and understanding, and patient, you still wouldn’t agree to a thing.

she didn’t want to see you, or talk to you, or spy on you anymore. she knew if she did, she’d just start begging again. and she had to stop doing that.

so she did the only thing she knew how.

she avoided.

but for you, on the other hand. you didn’t even have the time to make sense of it.

with a weak total of 30 hours of sleep in the last week, and 3 consecutive 12 hour shifts the last few days, you were truly going out of your mind.

you were, once again, a walking corpse. you slept during the entire day in your dungeon of a room, and woke up in the night to slave away in the infirmary.

you rarely saw sunlight, rarely went outside for fresh air. you barely ate, or showered, or even spoke.

and ever since abby had asked you if you were happy, that’s all you craved. to feel happy.

you’re body ached with both the need of something different, and from the soreness of your neck.

you treated countless soldiers with minor injuries, beaming smiles on their faces as they cackles with their counterparts, sharing stories of their excitement out on the field.

your heart stang with jealousy.

one soldier mentioned how abby had found a way into an old record store, collecting dozens of practically untouched records and bringing them home to distribute based on who she knew liked the artists.

she kept the Siamese Dream album by The Smashing Pumpkins for herself.

that night you dreamed of listening to it with her.

you woke up at midnight, your shift only hours away. only this time, you didn’t plan on going to it.

your body was hot and your skin felt tingly as you emerged from the covers. your pajama shorts hung loosely by your hips, swallowed by the old t shirt on your shoulders. you ran your fingers through your hair, and let out a groan of frustration.

you wanted her. you needed her.

and you wanted out of this damn base.

one of those things, you knew a way to make happen.

you told yourself to turn around as your slippered feet padded down the halls of the base. you told yourself you decided that you wouldn’t do this. wouldn’t give in to her demands, and deal with your job in the infirmary.

but your head heart from your lack of vitamin d, and your joints ached from your lack of movement.

your frown was nearly cemented onto your face from your lack of abby.

abby.

which is why you shut down your doubt, and brought your shaking fist to her door, knocking gently.

she didn’t open at first, and you wait with a trembling figure, eyes wide and desperate. but eventually, you hear the lock click, and the door swings open.

“what do you-,” she begins as she scratches the back of her neck, but stops when she sees you before her, her hand dropping to her side.

she takes in your state. your hair is messy and wild. your eyes are glossy, and you smell like sleep and cinnamon. you part your puffy lips, and she feels weak in the knees as she watches you. she whispers your name, and you finally speak.

“i- i need you.”

#abby anderson #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou #obstinate #abby anderson fic #abby anderson the last of us 2

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fadedin2u · 5 months

Text

pick up and roll the dice (ch. 1)

read in between the lines, i know you love me…

Summary: You’ve been best friends with Ellie since she moved into your neighborhood in elementary school, and now, you’re sharing a dorm room together at college. What could go wrong when you both start reading between the lines? Based on the song Hold On by The Internet.

word count: 2.5k

content: childhood best friends!au, dealer!ellie, fem!reader, college!au, modern!au, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a little bit of a player, ellie is a simp (not surprising), art major!ellie, kinda slow burn??

warnings: sexual harassment (mentioned), drug usage (weed), lots of cursing (what do you expect), men (mentioned), expect nsfw chapters in the future so MDNI 18+

notes: this is my first fic i’ve written for tlou, and it’s about damn time bc i’ve been lurking in the ellie williams x reader tags for months lmao, hope you enjoy! next chapter should be out by the end of the weekend! reblogs/likes are much appreciated :) let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

You’re welcomed into your dorm room by the smell of pot smoke. You walk in, already in a foul mood, shaking with adrenaline and anxiety. You drop your bag on the floor and kick off your shoes.

Ellie, your roommate and close friend since childhood, is sitting on her twin bed, leaning out the window as she smokes a joint. She’s dressed casually in a pair of old sweatpants and a t-shirt, her auburn hair haphazardly thrown up into a half-bun, most strands too short to all be gathered into a single bun. When she catches sight of you, she immediately can tell something is up.

“You okay?” Ellie asks, tapping the ash from her joint out the window.

You walk over to Ellie’s bed and melodramatically collapse face-first with a “Hmmph.”

“I’m dropping out.” You deadpan, your voice muffled by Ellie’s duvet.

Ellie takes a long drag from her joint and exhales a puff of smoke before turning to you, her eyebrows raised. “Huh? What?”

She sits up, holding the joint between her fingers before she gestures for you to clarify.

“You can’t drop out. What’re you gonna do all day? Sit around and eat Oreos?”

You stay face-planted onto Ellie’s bed.

“Yup. And I’ll be lazy and happy.” You say.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint inside of Ellie to not shove you off of her bed right this second. Instead, she leans forward and nudges your shoulder with her knee.

"Babe. Honey. Sweetie. Angel-Face. Get up. You sound like a dumbass right now.”

You roll over, and Ellie notices that your eyes are red and puffy, clearly having cried before coming back to the dorm.

“Hey! I’m having a crisis!” You exclaim, folding your arms over your chest.

Ellie’s face softens and her eyebrows furrow, concerned. “Hey… What’s going on? Want some of this?” She offers the joint to you.

You take it gratefully, taking a long drag. You shake her head, looking down at your miniskirt. “I really need to stop wearing this skirt in public… When I was walking back here, two dudes started following me and saying weird, gross shit. I tried telling them off, but I must have looked so pathetic that they just laughed… They followed me almost the whole way here.”

You pass the joint back to Ellie, saying sarcastically, “So, yes. In conclusion, I’m dropping out.”

Ellie is stunned silent. Her high buzz instantly fades and she reaches out to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. Ellie doesn't say anything at first, but she looks down at you with a worried expression on her face.

She puts out her half-finished joint, and scoots forward on the bed towards you. Her expression is stern and angry, and she seems utterly furious on your behalf.

“Did those fucking pieces of shit touch you? Did you call the cops?”

As she’s speaking, Ellie’s entire demeanor changes, and it’s obvious how upset these men made her. Ellie always seems to have a lot of rage built-up inside of her, but it’s amplified now.

You bite your lip, looking down.

“They didn’t touch me… I didn’t call the cops. I wasn’t thinking clearly, I should have called someone, but I was so freaked out, and… I’m sorry, Els.” You say quietly.

Ellie grabs your arm and pulls you towards her.

"It's okay, babe. It's not your fault."

Ellie leans forward to hug you tightly, rubbing your back.

"Those dickwipes should have never said anything to you. Let alone touched you. If they ever do that again, you tell me, and I'll take care of it."

Ellie takes a deep breath and sighs. She leans back against the wall and pulls you with her, keeping you close. You allow yourself to be pulled into Ellie’s hold, grateful, and you feel tears press at the back of your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t want to cry again.” You say, hiding your face in Ellie’s shoulder.

Ellie wraps her arms around you tighter, comforting you.

"Hey. It's alright to cry. Let it all out." She murmurs soothingly. "Don't be ashamed. You were just fucking harassed."

She holds you, continuing to rub your back and kissing the top of your head. Ellie feels sick at the thought of you hurting or struggling alone.

You sniffle as a few tears run down your cheeks, still hiding your face in Ellie’s shoulder.

“I just don’t understand what I can possibly do in those situations. And I feel like they happen all the fucking time.”

You wipe your face, “Like fucking yesterday! When I got catcalled at 8AM by the construction workers working on the new science building, and I was just trying to get to class!”

You shake your head, “I just feel so helpless in those situations, because they don’t even see me as a real person.”

"Well, you gotta make them see you as a force to be reckoned with." Ellie says, her voice stern.

She pauses, and lets out an exhale.

"These guys obviously aren't going to stop catcalling and harassing women, so either we ignore the comments, or we learn how to respond. It's a fucking shame that it has to be this way but..."

Ellie sighs and leans back. She rubs your shoulder with one hand, and her other hand gently rests on your thigh.

You feel your cheeks go hot, hyper-focused on Ellie’s hand on your leg.

“But, Els… I can’t fight for shit. There’s no way those guys could ever be intimidated by me the way you can intimidate them.”

You wipe your face, embarrassed by your tears. “Like, how could they possibly see me as anything other than a ‘slut who’s asking for it’, if I recall what they wouldn’t stop saying to me correctly.” You say, quoting the men who followed you home.

Ellie leans in a little closer and rests her head on your shoulder.

"I think that my girl can kick ass and dish it out as good as she takes it." Ellie's expression looks serious, and she gently squeezes your thigh as she speaks.

"Like, have you ever seen those videos on Instagram where girls absolutely own some big dudes? That'll be you, dude. Trust me, I know exactly what you're capable of. You just gotta learn how to take up space."

You laugh a little, wiping your face again.

“Is this you telling me that I need to take a boxing class?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

Ellie chuckles, and smiles as she squeezes your leg again.

"Hell yeah. Take a boxing class. I wanna see you punch a fuckin' guy's lights out the next time he wants to harass you."

Ellie pauses and takes a deep breath.

"If you're worried about money for lessons or fuck-all, you know I got your back, right?" Ellie says earnestly. "And if there's any guy who's giving you problems, just say the fucking word and I'll kick their ass for you."

You laugh again, sniffling as you hug Ellie.

“My knight in shining armor.” You joke.

You pull back, taking a breath. “Thank you though, seriously. Today was just an overall shitty day, and I’m just glad that I get to come back to our dorm and be with my best friend.”

"Anytime." Ellie's expression is soft as she smiles at you.

Ellie glances at the joint on her bedside table, and glances back at you.

"Wanna hit that? Or are you tapped-out?"

You go to pick up the joint, and use Ellie’s lighter to re-light it.

“Me? Tapping out? Please-“ You say as you smile at Ellie, taking a drag.

Ellie chuckles, watching you with a fond smile.

You pass the joint to Ellie. “Besides, I’m chilling the fuck out tonight. Today was garbage, and I don’t want to keep thinking about anything.”

Ellie chuckles and shakes her head as she takes the joint.

"I feel so bad that you had such a fucking awful day. I know you've been going through some stuff recently, so today was the absolute last thing you needed."

Ellie inhales a long drag, and looks down at you.

"Can I ask you something, though?"

You nod, “Yeah, what’s up?”

You take the joint, hit it, and pass it back to Ellie.

Ellie takes another inhale and holds the smoke in for a moment.

"Do you ever just... like... hate men?" she looks at you. "I mean, you know... with everything you experience, and the guys you described today. Like, you ever just look at a guy, and immediately start hating him?"

Ellie pauses, taking another hit, "I mean, it's all I can think about, half the time, and I just... I can't fucking stand them most of the time."

You sigh, taking a hit from the joint and nodding.

“Yeah. I wish I didn’t. I wish that most men didn’t act the way they do, but they do. It’s kinda hard not to hate people who objectify and demean you every day of your life just for existing.”

Ellie pauses before speaking, "Do you think that Joel might ever be like that? I mean, I don't think so. He's a good guy and all. Just... you never know."

Ellie pauses and sighs. She's obviously been worrying about this for a while.

"Am I being dumb? Am I being stupid for thinking like that? I don't know. I just… I'm worried that, one day, people I love like Jesse and my dad are going to turn out to be a couple of fucking perverts."

You pause, having known Joel for years, taking a hit from the joint.

“I- I don’t know. I think they’re good people, especially Joel, but you never really know, until they slip up,” You say.

You squeeze Ellie’s shoulder, “I do really think that Joel is one of my favorite people I’ve gotten the chance to know, and I have crazy high standards for men. Your dad would never do anything to hurt you, and I don’t think he’d do anything to any one else either.”

You pass the joint to Ellie.

Ellie takes the joint and inhales, then passes it back to you.

"Yeah, you're right. You're totally right, and I know that. It's just hard, because I have such a negative image of guys right now, but you're right."

Ellie leans back and relaxes, "I just feel like I've been having some trust issues lately, and it sucks, and I've been… paranoid about people."

She pauses, and her voice starts to falter. "I just don't want to be let down like I have, you know?”

You nudge Ellie’s leg with your knee, “Hey. I won’t let you down. Or, at least, I’ll always try to not let you down, no matter what.”

You smile at Ellie, “We’re a team. Always have been, always will be.”

Ellie's eyes light up, “That's right. We will always have each other's backs. We’re always going to be there for each other."

Ellie takes a hit from the joint, and leans back. "I love you, you know that? Even though I've been a total bitch, these last few weeks… I need you more than you could possibly know."

Ellie pauses and looks down at you. "You are, without a doubt, the best friend I've ever had in my whole life."

You take the joint from Ellie, hitting it with a smile on your face as you internally curse yourself for getting flustered. Your head feels fuzzy from the weed.

“The feeling is mutual.” You say, passing Ellie the joint.

“I never got to ask, by the way, but how was your date with that girl… Kaylee? Karlie?” You ask to change the subject, trying to remember the name of Ellie’s latest of many campus flings.

Ellie laughs, "It's Kylie." she corrects, smirking and nudging your thigh.

"The date was a fun distraction, even though Kylie is a complete airhead. And, uh..." Ellie pauses, her face warming with embarrassment.

"...she tried to kiss me, and I completely froze.”

Ellie takes a hit and shakes her head, "I can't believe that I turned her down! She's cute and a fuckin’ cheerleader. I should have gone for it, I probably ruined my chances with her."

You laugh a little, pushing down the spikes of jealousy piercing your chest.

“Ellie Williams froze when a girl tried to kiss her?” You tease, knowing that Ellie is normally fairly bold.

“What happened? Were you too nervous or something?” You ask, taking a hit from the joint and passing it back to Ellie.

Ellie's face is a mix of embarrassment and frustration as you tease her. Ellie pauses, thinking.

"...Well, I froze because... I… I don't know. She seemed like a nice girl, but she's so... shallow."

Ellie sighs, taking a hit from the joint, and leans back.

"I'm a horrible dater, I know. I just have such a hard time connecting with people, I don't know."

You frown, “Hey. Don’t beat yourself up. She just doesn’t sound like the right girl, and that’s totally fine. You don’t need to get mad at yourself for not having an instant connection with a girl just because she’s hot.”

You pass the joint to Ellie, “Okay, you have the rest.”

Ellie smiles at you as she takes a hit and holds it in.

Ellie lets it out and shakes her head. "...Yeah, you're right. I just think I'm just trying so hard to find a connection with someone, y'know?"

"It's just hard to really trust someone new… I've been hurt by a lot of people in my life, and the last thing I want is to get hurt again." Ellie explains, her freckled cheeks rosy.

You sigh, “It is really scary to be vulnerable like that with people, I… I really fucking get that.”

You play with the hem of your skirt as you talk, “But there are people who are good, and trustworthy, and won’t leave you in the dust. I mean, you’re proof of that for me.”

Ellie's expression softens as she looks over at you

"I guess we are really similar in that way. We're both traumatized, we're both paranoid, and we're both distrustful. Fuck, who could blame us?" Ellie says with a shrug.

Ellie pauses, "I'm just glad I have you. You're the only people who I think I can really be myself around. Everyone else can fuck off. But not you."

Your stoned, hazy mind is thankfully quiet as you lean against Ellie, the two of you sat side-by-side on her bed.

Ellie’s cheeks get more pink as you do, her eyes half-lidded and red as she pulls you into her.

“Just… Relax. You really fucking deserve it.” Ellie says softly, her voice low and raspy from the smoke.

You nuzzle your face into her shirt, closing your eyes as you melt into her, and everything is good.

Ellie looks down at you, her pupils dilated and cheeks flushed. She looks back up at the ceiling, clenching her eyes shut as she thinks, I’m fucked.

chapter 2

texts with ellie and reader

#Spotify #ellie williams #tlou2 #tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie tlou #rose writes #pick up and roll the dice

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ab4eva · 9 months

Text

‘Ain’t That Loving You Baby’

Summary: Reader is out of sorts all day - grumpy, petulant, rude and just plain bitchy. Elvis takes it upon himself to set her straight.

Warnings: NFSW 18+, spanking, non-con spanking, established relationship, time period related ideas about marriage/relationships, copious use of pet names, use of the term “daddy”, fingering, aftercare, fluff. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Authors note: Y’all, sometimes inspiration for a fic strikes in the most unexpected of ways, as with this one. I know this isn’t everyone’s cuppa, so if I’ve tagged you and you aren’t into it, apologies and please just keep right on scrolling. Now please enjoy one of my top Elvis fantasies that I will write in as many different ways as humanly possible until the day I die.

Word count: 3.6k

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it - why you were so out of sorts today. One minute you were close to tears, feeling sensitive and tender if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way or seemed the least bit careless with you. The next minute you were blowing up at some poor member of the Memphis Mafia, Vernon or even Elvis himself. You were grumpy, combative, and just generally in a very bad mood. It was as if a black cloud were hanging over your head, following your every step, raining on your own personal parade just to piss you off. The worst part was you knew you were being a brat but you were powerless to stop it. You felt itchy and irritated, on edge from the moment you stepped out the front doors of Graceland that morning to run your errands.

It didn’t help that when you returned, Elvis and the boys were lounging in the living room, making a right mess of things - beer bottles littering every surface, ash trays full to the brim with cigar ash, dirty plates covering the floor - it looked like a literal bomb had gone off. You’d just cleaned the entire house yesterday from top to bottom. Elvis had begged you to hire a housekeeper after you’d gotten married, but you were old fashioned, you saw it as the wife’s job to keep a clean house. And so you did…until all of these beastly men came and messed it up again. You surveyed the mess, a look of displeasure coloring your pretty face, your hands clenched into tight fists. Your heart pounded as you dug your fingernails into the soft flesh of your palm and tried very hard not to scream.

“Oh hey Y/N,” Red said lazily, the first of them to notice you standing in the doorway. “These cookies are damn delicious.” Your eyes zeroed in on his hand and you saw he held one of your freshly baked chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, the ones you’d painstakingly made dozens of last night. They were meant for the cookie exchange your book club was having tomorrow. Your eyes slowly surveyed the rest of the men in the living room, all of them perched here and there on the furniture or the floor… and all of them with cookies in their hands. The big platter heaped with cookies you had carefully placed on top of the fridge now sat almost empty in the middle of the coffee table. Your eyes found Elvis’s as you inhaled sharply and gave him a look that could kill. He had the good grace to look abashed as he quickly dropped the cookie he was holding, standing up slowly from where he sat on the couch as he moved towards you, holding both hands in front of him in a gesture meant to placate you but it only enraged you further.

“Now baby, we didn’t mean to eat all these here cookies, but you know they’re my favorite and I-I-I couldn’t resist. And I had to share with the guys, otherwise what kind of host would I be?” His blue eyes were sparkling with something close to amusement and his voice dripped honey, soft and low, soothing. He knew the look you were giving him, knew he had to tread carefully.

“Elvis…baby,” you said in a dangerous and mocking whisper, “those cookies were for my book club.” You spat the words out through gritted teeth, barely containing your rage. The thing is, you were usually so easygoing, so even-keeled, the very definition of hospitable to guests in your home. Normally, this wouldn’t even phase you. But today? It made you so angry you could barely speak. Poor Jerry had the unfortunate thought at that moment to try and smooth the situation over by offering to clean up the mess they’d made only to have you snap at him (“Don’t bother! None of you had the bright idea to even think before turning my living room into a pigsty!”) as you stomped out of the room.

Things didn’t end there as your rampage continued for the rest of the day, cutting down anyone and anything daring to cross your path. Vernon made the mistake of asking you about a shopping bill for some new dresses you purchased last week, innocently wanting to know the total so he could add it to the monthly expense account. You almost wrung his neck - the sheer audacity of the man! The Colonel came sweeping in cheerily in the late afternoon, trying to pull one of his old carney tricks on you, thinking it would lighten your mood. It had the opposite effect and you told him off so completely that even Elvis had to chuckle at it with a bemused smile. But the final straw came that evening, as you and Elvis sat peacefully (for his part, at least) in the living room, quietly reading after a rather tense dinner. You made some snide, off the cuff remark aimed at the way your husband’s business was being run and in an instant, you knew you’d stepped over the line, pushed Elvis past the limit of what he’s willing to take.

As soon as the words fly out of your mouth you wish you could pull them back in, gather the broken pieces of them and keep them inside. You suck in a gasp, your eyes flying to his face, realizing your mistake too late, realizing your bad mood has landed you here, in uncharted territory. Only once before had you taken things too far - two weeks after your wedding - Elvis had stormed out of the house in a barely suppressed rage only to return the next morning, acting as if nothing had even happened. You see his body still and his blue eyes widen in surprise before they darken, anger and annoyance flashing across his face before being replaced with a look of willful determination. You know that look, it’s the one he gets when he has an idea in his head, and like a dog with a bone, won’t let go until he gets what he wants. Your heart speeds up in your chest, pounding almost painfully, you feel a little lightheaded and your mouth goes dry. You swallow thickly, opening your mouth to apologize, to take back the words you’ve already said, anything at all to stop this train from hurtling off the cliff. “Elvis, I-,” the words start to tumble from your mouth in a rush before he cuts you off angrily.

“That’s enough!” he yells, his voice booming loud and firm, your ears ringing with the force of it. “Now listen here, girl, I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but that’s. Enough.” His voice is now dangerously low as he punctuates each word with a stab of his finger in your direction, his gold rings glittering wildly in the soft light of the room. He stands abruptly and strides towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and holding you there. You struggle against him, beating his solid chest with your closed fists like a child, not wanting to be held.

“Lemme go…let me go!” you practically scream in his face. Something inside you refuses to be comforted in this moment, you feel as if he’s suffocating you. You don’t want him to touch you, don’t want him near you. And yet, it’s all you want, to be here, in his arms. His deliciously musky scent fills your nostrils as he presses your head into his shirt in an attempt to calm you. His chest is heaving with restrained emotion and his wiry chest hairs tickle your nose through his unbuttoned collar. Confusion swirls in your brain, you’re too upset to sort through the emotions that have been tormenting you all day as you thrash against him. His lip curls up in an annoyed smirk as he grabs your flailing fists, pinning them to your side as his jaw clenches, his strong arms vise-like as he clutches you tightly to his chest.

“Now, you’re gonna tell me why ya got a bee in your britches, darlin. Why ya been a goddamn brat all goddamn day… or I’m gonna make ya tell me,” he commands, his voice rough and low. His eyes search yours and his nostrils flair slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to keep you in check as you still struggle against him. You can see the vein in his neck, the one that drives you wild, popping out - which means he’s excited or angry - or both.

“I’d like to see you try,” you spit at him scornfully, your bright eyes challenging him, your lip turning up into a slight sneer as you wriggle some more.

“Don’t test me, little one. I think someone needs an attitude adjustment and I’m just the one to give it to ya.” He squeezes you tighter in his arms as you squirm, still trying to break free, and suddenly you’re having a little trouble breathing. You stop moving for a moment and his grip loosens just a little as you gulp in a breath of air. “As your husband, it’s my job to set you right when you’re misbehaving. So I’m gonna ask ya again, darlin - why are ya so outta sorts today?”

You stare at him, at a loss for words. Truthfully, you don’t know what’s gotten into you. It’s just a bad day. You remember waking up and feeling fine, maybe a little tired. Elvis was already gone, his side of the bed cold and empty. He’d been distracted with contract negotiations when you found him in the kitchen, already eating breakfast. Without you. You had wanted to tell him a story about something that happened yesterday that made you think of him. But just as you were about to he was up and out for a meeting, without ever kissing you good morning. Or goodbye. All of these little things, you suddenly realize, subconsciously added up to you feeling neglected and uncared for by him. They had curled inside your belly without you knowing, sending sad thoughts to your brain all day long. You bite your lip as it all comes rushing in and you feel yourself close to tears.

You can’t tell him these things. They’re all too silly, too small, too insignificant in the grand scheme of it all. You just stare at him, your chest heaving, your eyes silently pleading with him to understand as a tear slips down your cheek unbidden. He softens for a moment, a dozen different thoughts flashing across his readable face. He gently wipes your tear with his thumb and presses a kiss to your cheek where it fell. Then he nods once, as if making up his mind about something. He releases you, grabbing your wrist again, practically dragging you over to the big, comfy chair at the edge of the living room. You go rather willingly, unsure of what his plan is. His other hand settles on the back of your neck, gently, as he starts to push you down over the back of the chair. You suddenly understand that something you have no control over is about to happen and you start to fight him again. But he keeps a firm grasp on your wrist as he keeps pushing your head down until you are bent almost in two over the back of the chair. If his iron grip on you didn’t entirely prevent you from moving, his strong, lean body standing behind you and pressing you into the chair does.

“Stop squirming, or I’ll have to tie you down.” His voice in your ear is breathy, somewhere between amused and annoyed. “Don’t think I won’t, honey. You’ve been ornery all day and you don’t get a say in what happens now, ya hear me? Just remember, this is for your own good. And I love you.” You stop moving, knowing he’ll do whatever he deems necessary to see this through. He releases his grip on you and steps to the side, his left arm settling heavily across your back to hold you down as he rucks your short dress up around your hips. You feel him run a hand across your round ass, cupping it and squeezing softly. You hear what can only be described as a delighted breath escaping his lips behind you, the soft huff of a chuckle, his ribcage expanding against your arm as he breathes deeply. The pressure as he grips your ass gets harder and harder before he suddenly stops and his cool fingers toy with the edge of your panties around your waist before he unceremoniously yanks them down to your ankles.

“Last chance, baby,” he says through gritted teeth, his tone stern as he pins you to the chair. You start to squirm again, panic rising in your chest. He’s about to spank you. He…he’s never done that before. Not even for fun. Your body starts to tremble and you shake your head, refusing to speak. You feel him raise his right hand and a ghost of a breeze whispers across your bare bottom. You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath, your heart banging painfully in your chest, preparing as best you know how. You haven’t been spanked since you were a little girl and there’s something wrong, and slightly exciting, about it.

He delivers the first slap to your bottom with a firm, open palm, the impact of it echoing throughout the living room, the only other noise that can be heard is the ticking of a clock, your gasp and Elvis’s heavy breathing. You inhale sharply at the sting of it, but it isn’t as terrible as you were expecting and it dissipates quickly. You let out the breath you’d been holding, if this is all it is you can handle it. All is quiet and still behind you, and you wonder if that’s it…until you feel him lean down to speak in your ear again.

“That was just a warm up, little girl, ain’t gonna go that easy on ya for the rest of ‘em,” he murmurs, and you hear the love in his stern voice as you try and process what he’s saying. The rest of them? That was going easy? You start to wiggle, trying to break free once again and realize the whimpering noise filling the room is coming from your mouth. Before you can get too worked up he swats you again, twice in quick succession, a little harder than before.

“Ow!” you yell, incensed by your situation, kicking your feet a little. “That hurt!” You spit out through gritted teeth, angry now. “Elvis Aaron Presley, you let me go this instant!” Your demands are met with an amused laugh, and you let out a frustrated growl, trying and failing to twist out of his grasp.

“I see I haven’t sorted you out yet, honey. Still got some of that brattiness left in ya that needs to be broken. Your choice, little girl.” Elvis lets a small laugh slip, his eyes on your body as he slowly and deliberately brings his hand down on your ass again. It’s strong and forceful, but not cruel. It leaves you breathless, speechless. Finally the stinging has permeated your skin and refuses to leave. It’s starting to be uncomfortable and you can tell that if he doesn’t quit soon you’re going to have a hard time sitting tomorrow.

“You’ve been petulant, rude, acting like a damn child all day. And that’s not the woman I know and love, the woman I married. No wife of mine is gonna act that like that and get away with it - not to my friends, not to my father, and especially not to me. Do you understand?” His hand gently cups you as he lectures, rubbing softly over what must be your quickly reddening ass. You hiss and grip the the pillow in front of you. “Answer me, girl. Do you understand?”

You’re not done pouting…if he thinks he can break you, sort you out, punish you - let him try. You stay willfully silent, refusing to speak. You hear him sigh as he removes his hand from you and you brace yourself for another round.

“Have it your way, darlin’…I’m gonna give you six more and if you’re still in a state, then we’re gonna have to have a serious talk, you and me," Elvis says, suddenly quiet and solemn and your heart drops in your chest. Maybe this isn’t some game he’s playing? You didn’t realize it was as important as he’s now letting on. You know you were a total bitch today and you do regret your words and actions… You cry out as he spanks you again without warning, his palm landing with more force than he’s given you so far. He continues and the spanking is relentless, but there's also something almost hypnotic about it. It feels like his hand is on your skin forever, but before you know it, it's almost over. And unexpectedly you realize the last couple of swats have sent lightening straight to your core, your nipples are tight buds rubbing deliciously against the coarse fabric of the chair through your thin dress and you’re surprised to feel slickness gathering on your thighs. You don’t know when your cries turned to breathy moans but he stops abruptly as he hears you, still two spankings left to give.

You’re breathing heavily, still clutching the decorative pillow adorning the chair as you clench around nothing, surprising yourself and Elvis as an obscene squelching noise echoes across the now quiet living room. You let out a breathless laugh, flushing a deep red, thankful he can’t see the embarrassment written across your face. You feel Elvis laughing silently as well, quiet little snorts as he tries and fails to keep from giggling.

“Well now, this is a development I wasn’t expecting,” he murmurs in your ear, leaning over you, his warm breath floating across your cheek. You turn your face towards his, your glassy eyes trying to focus on him as you blink slowly. “Now that it seems I’ve sorted you out, what kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t also take care of my baby?” His right hand squeezes your bottom lightly as his left arm finally releases you and his hand slips underneath your hips, his long, cool fingers gently sliding up your soaking folds. Your breath hitches at his touch, letting out a whimper as he reaches your aching clit, circling it deftly with calloused fingers, once, twice, before dipping two of them into your wet heat.

“Goddamn, mama, so needy for me? Maybe I oughta spank ya more often,” he says breathlessly, his voice taut with desire. You know your husband well - it’s the way he sounds when his cock is hard and straining against his pants, aching to be set free. He’s probably already starting to leak, you think dimly, and the thought has you fluttering around him.

“Oh…” you manage to breathe out as he starts to pump his fingers into you agonizingly slow, his thumb finding your clit and applying light pressure. You rock your hips, already so close to the edge you can almost taste it. His right hand smacks your ass hard and you jolt forward, the feeling of his fingers inside you and his punishing hand on your backside has you starting to whine, unable to stop. He speeds up the movement of his hand, curling his digits just so into that sensitive and spongy part of you just as he delivers the final slap to your ass that has you clenching tightly around his fingers nestled inside you, coming harder than you have in a while, your high-pitched whine turning silent as you stop breathing for a moment. He groans above you and you feel him shaking slightly as he bends over your body - you know it’s taking everything in him to hold it together. After a few moments, he slowly releases you, helping you stand and your legs immediately buckle underneath you. Elvis grabs you under your arms to try and keep you from falling but you’re both so weak with spent energy and desire - yours fulfilled, his aching - that you both tumble to the ground in a heap.

"There. All sorted out, sweetheart?" Elvis smiles down at you as your head rests against his shoulder, his arm encircling your waist. His voice is rough but tender as he smoothes the hair back from your face. "How did daddy do?" he asks, a smirk pulling his lush lips up into a lopsided grin. You blink dazedly, trying to form a coherent thought.

“Daddy?” you finally say, rolling the unfamiliar word around on your tongue. “Hmm, I could get used to that, I think.” You smile softly as your hand reaches up to cup his face, your thumb brushing the scratchy stubble across his jaw as your eyes turn serious. “I am sorry, Elvis. For all of it,” you whisper, blinking back tears.

“Shh, little one, I know,” he says, kissing your forehead softly and pulling you closer into himself, cradling you on his chest as your hand nestles in his chest hair, right above his heart that beats only for you.

And at book club the next day, when you’re settled on a mountain of pillows, no one even bats an eye.

Tags - I don’t have a general tag list so I’m just tagging some lovies who have enjoyed my previous fics: @jelliedonut @elvisabutler @precious-little-scoundrel @butlersxbirdy @missmaywemeetagain @headfullofpresley @powerofelvis @notstefaniepresley @amydarcimarie @prompted-wordsmith @dkayfixates @sillybookmarks @melancholicbutterflies @thatbanditqueen @eliseinmemphis @godlypresley @ccab @richardslady121 @rjmartin11 @claire-elvisgirl @literally-just-elvis-fics

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x reader #elvis imagine #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #ain’t that loving you baby #written by ab4eva

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 9 months

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Nimona headcanons that I wrote in like 15 minutes don’t judge me

I feel like both Bal and Ambrosius are the kinds of people who try and act like they’re not sick

Bal has an amazing immune system he rarely if ever gets sick

But when he does get sick he’ll be in absolute denial about it

If someone confronts him all he’ll say is “No I’m fine I don't get sick” and then he’ll push himself until he’s literally sitting in a hospital still acting like he’s not sick

Ambrosius has the worst immune system you can possibly imagine

Someone sneezes on this boy and he’s sick for the next two weeks

But he’s also sick enough times that he’s convinced himself that he can work through anything

After a while he’s literally forced to relax and be taken care of and he complains the entire time that he should be working

I’ve kind of alluded to this headcanon but I don’t think Nimona can get sick

But if she could get sick she would be the most annoying person known to mankind

She would have a sore throat and make the biggest deal about it and force the boys to take care of her

And the boys will comply because this is one of the few times that Nimona lets them take care of her

I mentioned in this post tags that they all hand make every single present

The first thing that Bal ever made/gave Ambrosius was welded rose that he made out of scrap metal

He thought it was a stupid present but Ambrosius got super emotional and said it was the best present he had ever received

Bal highly doubted that cause Ambrosius literally got a car as a birthday present once

But then he saw it in a little vase that Ambrosius made and it became kind of a tradition after that

During every big event in their lives Bal welded Ambrosius a rose and he kept every single one

By the time the knighting ceremony rolled around he had close to 80

Ambrosius made more heavy-duty vases just to hold all of the flowers

It’s kind of sweet because you can see both of their hobbies improving as the years go on

The first gift Bal ever got from Ambrosius was a sweater he crochet himself

He made it cause he knows that Bal runs cold and he would make off-handed comments about it every once and a while

He was kind of nervous cause he never took on a project that big before

Bal wore it all the damn time

He treated that sweater like it was gold which is why he was crushed when it started unraveling

He went to Ambrosius sobbing with an arm full of yarn apologizing and saying he ruined it

Mind you he gave him that sweater like 5 years prior and had knitted and crocheted him a million things afterwards

It was a miracle that the sweater lasted as long as it did

He spent the entire night consoling him while asking for his input on the new one he was currently working on

The first gift Bal and Ambrosius gave Nimona made him tear up and cling to them as an actual koala for the rest of the night

Bal welded him a little dragon and Ambrosius crocheted him a little rhino

The first gift Nimona gave the boys was for both of them

It was a painting of the three of them the boys thought it was beautiful but also incredibly out of character

Until they gave them the second painting of the three of them fighting guards as the institute burned down behind them

The boys framed both and hung them in the living room

Whenever Ambrosius goes anywhere he’s swarmed by groups of people and sometimes those people will ask questions about his clothes and jewelry

And he gets this proud look in his eyes while he says “Oh my kid made this in the living room 15 minutes before I left the house”

When Bal proposed he actually made both the engagement and their wedding rings

He always got compliments on both rings and Ambrosius would let them get a better look while gushing about all the little details that were put into it

And this doesn’t stop when Bal and Nimona are around either

In fact he’ll drag them over and gush about them while they get progressively more embarrassed

#nimona 2023 #nimona movie #nimona headcanon #nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #they get back at him tho #they'll wear the shit he makes just to make him emotional #Bal will wear the old sweaters and Ambrosius will get all nostalgic on him #because he remembers literally everything he's made for them #but he's not used to his hobbies being taken seriously #they also use plates and mugs he made #no matter how old and ugly they are

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svnoohe4rts · 1 year

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BEST FRIENDS ! ― sim jaeyun

↳ pairing: inexperienced!jake x fembodied!reader

↳ summary: jake is desperate to lose his virginity, and since you’re his best friend, you agree to help him out.

↳ word count: 4,6k

↳ a/n: hihi !! i decided i’d repost one of my old fics since it never showed up in the tags,, i’ve changed some things, but other than that it’s the exact same fic :’) let’s hope it shows up in the tags this time </3

i’ve also decided this will be the last fic i post before i go on a small hiatus for a while . there’s a lot of things going on right now & i simply don’t have the time to be active, hence why i feel like going on a small hiatus seems necessary. i won’t be back until after new years, so happy christmas & happy new years ! thank u all so much for this amazing year & for all the incredible feedback i’ve gotten, i can’t wait to see what next year has in store for this blog :’) i love each & every one of u, until next time <3 all feedback is appreciated ! <3

i won’t be deleting the original post for this fic, u can find it here !

↳ warnings: SMUT ! MDNI . | mentions porn, protected sex let me know if there’s anything else i should add !

JAKE KNOWS HE SHOULDN’T.

Hell, he knows god damn well he shouldn’t even consider it; but the urge to lose his virginity was stronger than his sense of morality at this point. Desperate times call for desperate measures after all, right?

Jake was a simple man. He jerked off whenever he felt the need to, only watching porn if he felt like his imagination wasn’t enough to satisfy his urges. Jake had kissed at least three girls in total during his twenty years on planet earth, including the one he kissed back at the playground in middle school; it was his first kiss, after all, why wouldn’t he count that one?

It had never gone past kissing though. The most intimate thing he had done was probably grabbing a girl's ass while awkwardly making out at a party and the next most intimate thing he had ever experienced was probably the time a girl's hand accidentally brushed against his crotch. Not that he complained though.

He was content with his right hand, it certainly got the job done and he knew exactly how to give himself the best possible experience; so what was there to possibly complain about? Well, Jake decided to put the blame on Heeseung for that one.

If Heeseung had never walked into the room with the biggest smile Jake had ever seen on his lips back when they were 16, Jake would’ve never found himself in this situation. If Heeseung just hadn’t decided to brag about how he lost his virginity to his prom date the night before, Jake certainly never would’ve questioned his right hand and its ability to satisfy him. But of course, Heeseung just had to tell him all about how amazing it was and that he would never ever jack off ever again because nothing could ever even compare to the feeling he had just experienced, as Heeseung himself had claimed. He became a changed man, he said, and there was no way he’d ever go back to just using his right hand.

So in a way, Heeseung was definitely the cause of 16-year-old Jake's misery.

Then Jay lost his virginity the following summer. He also claimed he’d never ever go back to jerking off, going into great detail about how he had lost his virginity with the slightly older girl next door while mowing her father's lawn; sneaking into the shed while her father was sitting by the pool, reading the daily newspaper. Jake refused to jerk off that night, staring at the ceiling as he questioned what was so great about sex and why his right hand suddenly couldn’t even compare to a feeling he had never experienced for himself.

No matter how angry and confused Jake was, he found comfort in knowing one thing. It didn’t matter if both Heeseung and Jay had lost their beloved V card, because he still had Sunghoon.

Sunghoon was also a virgin and Jake was sure about one thing and one thing only; he was most definitely going to lose his virginity before his introverted friend did.

As senior year of high school rolled around, both Jake and Sunghoon were still virgins; which Jake found great comfort in. Knowing he wasn’t the only one in his friend group who was still a virgin comforted him, knowing he wasn’t alone in his misery; knowing he wasn’t the only one who had yet to get his dick wet.

Until one day, Sunghoon showed up at school with the same forsaken smile that both Heeseung and Jay had worn and Jake knew he was doomed the second he spotted his friend’s smile. He didn’t even have to listen to his friend talking about how it happened, the feeling of defeat had already settled in by the time Sunghoon had even said hi.

So moral of the story, if Heeseung never decided it would be a good idea to make Jake question his whole existence back when he was 16, Jake wouldn’t be in this situation.

And that certain situation being him about to ask you, his best friend of many years, to take his virginity.

‘’Earth to Jake,’’ Your hand waving in front of his eyes snapped him out of his thoughts, slightly jumping in surprise by your sudden action. Jake looked up at you, a chuckle trailing off your lips as you plopped down beside him. ‘’What’s on your mind?’’

He had known you almost his whole life, you had been the one to force him into kissing that one girl at the playground back in middle school after all; no matter how much he whined and refused you were the one who pushed him in front of the swings and cheered him on as he shyly pecked the other girl's lips. You had also been the one to comfort him after the girl ran off, crying about how she didn’t even want to kiss him in the first place; a moment that probably severely bruised Jake's ego for the rest of his life.

He had never even thought of you as anything other than his best friend, the thought of having sex with you never even crossed his mind before. The thought made him cringe, his stomach turning inside out at the thought of ever seeing you naked, almost gagging that one time his dear friend talked about how cute you were and he most definitely would take the opportunity if ever given to him.

And at 19 years old, Jake once again blamed Heeseung for his misery. If Heeseung had never said those words, the thought would never have crossed his mind and he wouldn’t be sitting in your bed rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. But thanks to Heeseung and his inability to keep his thoughts to himself, Jake came to the realization that you were probably his best bet at losing his virginity at this point.

But how on earth was he supposed to tell you that without embarrassing himself, possibly scaring your friendship for life? Jake just frowned, shaking his head as he continued to rub his palms against the fabric of his jeans; desperately trying to hide the fact that he was absolutely shitting himself. You cocked an eyebrow, your eyes darting over to his now very obviously sweaty hands. ‘’Is there anything wrong, Jake?’’

‘’No,’’ Yes, there was something very, very wrong. ‘’I mean, not really. I don’t want to talk about it.’’

He wasn’t lying, Jake most certainly did not want to talk about what was on his mind. You, on the other hand, were obvious to the fact that your friend was very obviously distressed about something and wasn’t going to let it slide that easily. ‘’C’mon, you can tell me anything.’’

Hey, Y/N, wanna take my virginity? No, he simply could not tell you everything.

Jake glared at you for a moment, a sigh escaping his lips as he realized you weren’t going to give up until he actually told you what was on his mind. He threw his head back in annoyance, staring at the ceiling as he accepted his fate. He was going to make an absolute fool out of himself, but at least it was with you, the one person who would never make fun of him, right?

‘’Promise me you won't make fun of me?’’ He mumbled, refusing to look at you as he mentally prepared himself for embarrassment. You only nodded in response, furrowing both your eyebrows; growing slightly worried by your friend's behavior. ‘’You’re acting like something horrible happened, what's up?’’ You asked, your eyes glued to the boy sitting beside you.

Well, something horrible did happen. At least in Jake’s world, this was the most horrifying thing that could possibly ever happen. Jake kept his eyes glued to the ceiling, taking a deep breath before squeezing his eyes shut. ‘’Can you take my virginity?’’

Complete silence fell over the room. Jake kept his eyes shut, too scared to ever open them again; the silence only made him feel even more anxious. At this point, Jake wasn’t even breathing, regretting all his life choices leading up to this very moment, wanting to sink through the ground and simply disappear. It wasn’t until he suddenly heard a loud snort coming from beside him he dared opened his eyes, snapping his head towards you.

The sight in front of him only made him want to disappear from the face of the earth even more. You had one of your hands placed over your mouth, trying your best to suppress your laughter but failed miserably, breaking out into laughter. Jake just stared at you, a frown on his face. ‘’I said don’t make fun of me!’’ Jake groaned, burying his face in both his hands in an attempt to hide his red cheeks as you continued laughing. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ You laughed, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks at this point as you tried controlling your laughter.

‘’Fuck off,’’ Jake mumbled into his hands, his ears turning red from embarrassment. ‘’Just forget I ever said anything.’’ He continued as you wiped the tears that had spilled down your cheeks away, small chuckles still leaving your lips. Another silence fell over the room, the only noise being heard was Jake’s breathing into his hands as he thought about how he was supposed to ever recover from the amount of embarrassment he had just experienced.

‘’I mean, why not?’’ Your voice suddenly broke the silence, causing Jake to peek through his fingers; his eyes landing on you. ‘’What?’’ He let out, his eyebrows slightly furrowed together as he kept his eyes glued on you. You shrugged in response, looking over at the boy. ‘’You’re my best friend after all, so I don’t see why I wouldn’t help you out.’’

Jake took his hands off his face, his eyes wide as he stared at you in shock. Now that you had said yes, he had no idea what to do or how to act. He had fully prepared himself for you saying no, but yes? He hadn’t even considered the fact that you might’ve said yes.

‘’What?’’ He stuttered, causing another chuckle to trail off your lips. ‘’Why are you acting so surprised? You were the one who asked me stupid,’’ You chuckled, Jake's lips parting in surprise. ‘’I mean, I know, but I just,’’ He mumbled, stumbling over his own words as he spoke. ‘’I just didn’t expect you to say yes, alright?’’ He let out, trying to figure out if you were just playing with him or if you were actually being serious.

But by the way you simply just shrugged and by the lack of a playful look on your face, he realized you were actually serious. Oh god, you were actually serious about taking his virginity. ‘’Are you actually serious?’’ He asked once more, letting his hands fall into his lap as he continued looking for any signs that indicated that you were in fact playing a prank on him. You nodded in response, a small smile forming on your lips. ‘’I think it’s better you lose it with me so you don’t have to embarrass yourself when you actually hook up with someone.’’

Jake parted his lips, getting ready to defend himself but quickly realized there was no point in arguing; because you were right.

He had no clue how to possibly make his first time enjoyable for the other person, hell, he didn’t even know how to make it enjoyable for himself. He was completely clueless, except for all the things his friends told him and the things he had seen in porn, and the things he had pictured in his mind of course; but he knew the things he pictured in his mind were way different from the real thing.

Maybe losing his virginity to you wasn’t as bad after all. Unlike him, you weren’t a virgin and Jake could guarantee you knew way more than he did; plus you were one of his best friends, so what could possibly go wrong? ‘’So, like, when do we do it?’’ Jake stuttered, looking over at you once again. Another chuckle emerged from your throat, moving closer to the boy sitting beside you; Jake's eyes following your every move. ‘’Jake, it’s not an appointment, we don’t need to set a date you know,’’ You joked, but Jake only stared at you with wide eyes.

As you moved closer and Jake could now feel your thigh touching his, he came to the realization that losing his virginity to you was in fact a very bad idea. He had been close to you many times before, it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to get psychical with each other. Holding hands, hugging, and even cuddling while watching a scary movie; it usually wasn’t weird at all. But as your thigh touched his, while talking about you taking his virginity, it felt extremely weird. It felt more than just weird, it felt horrifying. ‘’But how am I supposed to know when if we don’t plan it?’’ He let out, his eyes glued to your thigh; suddenly feeling very aware of the fact that you only kept moving closer.

‘’Jake?’’ You let out, causing him to look up at you; his eyes still wide as he noticed how incredibly close your face now was to his. ‘’Yeah?’’ He breathed, not knowing where to look without his eyes landing on your glossy lips. ‘’Can I kiss you?’’

At that moment, he fully panicked and he was sure it showed by the way his whole body froze; he had never been asked that question before and he certainly did not expect you to be the first person ever to ask him that. He stared at you, your eyes darting between his eyes and lips, waiting for his response. Jake placed his bottom lip between his teeth, nervously nibbling on it; he had gone way too far to say no. ‘’Yes.’’

Before he could even prepare himself, he felt your lips press against his. As he felt your lips press against his own, he suddenly regretted everything. He regretted ever even bringing up the topic, he regretted ever even considering it; why the hell would he ever even want to lose his virginity to his best friend? ‘’Relax, okay?’’ You suddenly murmured, causing Jake to snap back to reality; realizing he hadn’t even kissed you back.

Fuck it, if he was actually going to lose his virginity, he might as well make the most of it.

So he nodded, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips against yours once again. Your lips felt soft against his, your strawberry lipgloss transferring onto his own; feeling himself slightly relax as you placed one of your hands on the nape of his neck. The kiss was soft and as much as Jake hated to admit it, he was actually enjoying it. With his eyes closed, he didn’t have to face reality; that it was, in fact, his best friend he was kissing.

That was until he felt you shift beside him, your lips still attached to his; suddenly feeling your weight being placed on top of him. He quickly opened his eyes only to see you sitting on top of him, straddling his lap. You must’ve noticed the way he immediately tensed up again, his eyes scanning your figure as a chuckle left your lips. ‘’Don’t think too much about it, okay?’’ You let out, placing your hands on the back of his neck; your eyes meeting.

How was he supposed to not think too much? It wasn’t like it was the first time you sat on his lap like this, but this time was different; this time was very very different compared to your usual play fights where you sometimes ended up on his lap. Jake doesn’t remember you kissing him in those playfights, but that was exactly what was happening right now. He only nodded in response, gulping as you leaned down, pressing your lips against his once again.

Jake once again fluttered his eyes close, trying to focus on your lips moving against his instead of the fact that you were straddling his lips; accidentally grinding against this crotch every now and then. He suddenly felt you grab both his hands, placing them on your hips before returning your hands to the back of his neck. Jake quickly caught on as he slipped his hands under your shirt, your warm skin greeting his cold hands. You hummed in response, causing Jake to relax further into the kiss as he realized he had done something right by slipping his hands under your shirt.

The deeper the kiss got, the more Jake started to believe that maybe this wasn’t as bad of an idea as he had originally thought. The taste of your strawberry lipgloss was now slowly making him want more, his tongue slipping into your mouth; the small moan leaving your lips taking him by surprise. He felt a small smirk forming on his lips as he ran his hands up and down your sides, feeling you slightly tug at his hair; the kiss getting more and more desperate.

‘’You’re not a bad kisser you know,’’ You mumbled into the kiss, causing a shade of red to spread across Jake's cheeks; keeping his lips attached to yours in an attempt to hide his now red cheeks. His hands slowly made their way down your sides, creeping closer and closer to your ass before gently grabbing it; a groan leaving his throat. As he kneaded your ass through your pants, he couldn’t help but press his crotch against your clothed core; now getting slightly impatient. But as your lips left his and your eyes met, he suddenly became nervous; had he done something wrong? Was he moving too fast?

‘’Do you want to take my shirt off?’’ Your words made his now semi-hard cock twitch, beginning for any type of attention as he quickly nodded in relief. You smiled at him as you guided his hands towards the hem of your shirt, watching as he slowly pulled your shirt over your head; revealing your chest. He stared at your chest with wide eyes, the only thing hiding your breasts being your bra; trying his best not to let out a groan. ‘’You can take it off.’’ You let out, causing Jake’s hands to immediately start fiddling with the clasps at the back of your bra.

After a few moments of Jake struggling, insisting that he could do it; your bra slowly slid off your body. Jake couldn’t help but stare at your bare chest, his cock growing harder at the sight of your hard nipples. He had seen you in bikinis multiple times, but something felt different this time; he simply couldn’t tear his eyes off you. ‘’Can I touch them?’’ He managed to get out, his eyes meeting yours. ‘’You don’t have to ask Jake, do whatever you feel comfortable doing.’’ You let out softly, causing Jake to immediately place one of his hands on top of one of your breasts; attaching his lips to one of your nipples.

A loud gasp left your mouth as he swirled his tongue around your hard nipple, his other hand finding its way to your other breast. It was no secret that Jake knew how to use his tongue even though he had never actually done it judging by the way he constantly had his tongue out, you’d be lying if you said you hadn't thought about him and his tongue at least once. But his tongue playing with your nipple while his other hand pinched and massaged your other breast felt way better than you could’ve ever imagined, throwing your head back as a whimper left your lips.

That whimper went straight to Jake's now hard cock, feeling it twitch against one of your thighs. He kept his lips attached to your nipple, his other hand massaging your other boob as he looked up at you. The sight in front of him made him feel like he was about to cum right there and then, feeling the precum leaking from his tip stick to the fabric of his now very tight boxers. You slowly started rocking your hips against this hard-on, a groan leaving his throat as he pressed rough kisses all over your chest, his hands still playing with your nipples.

You quickly brought your hand to his hair, pulling him into another kiss; this time a much rougher kiss. It was extremely messy and needy, his fingers digging into the skin of your sides as he desperately dragged your lower body against this crotch; desperate for any type of friction. ‘’Can I suck you off?’’ You mumbled into the kiss, causing Jake to pull away.

Now, normally Jake would’ve screamed yes. Getting head was on top of his list, all his friends talked about receiving head like it was the best thing ever; even better than actually fucking. But right there and then, Jake wanted nothing more than to feel you around him, causing him to shake his head.

‘’I want to fuck you Y/N,’’ He breathed, still lightly guiding your lower body back and forth. ‘’Please?’’ He let out, his eyes meeting yours. You only replied by smashing your lips against his once again, pulling him down so he was now hovering above you.

You quickly undid his belt, your lips still attached; hungrily moving against one another before he pulled away; only to pull his shirt over his head, his full upper body on display. You stared at him for a moment, admiring his body before his lips met yours once again. He helped you pull his pants down completely, your hand coming in contact with the outline of his fully hard cock; a gasp leaving your lips. Jake couldn’t help but let out a groan as your hand finally wrapped around the outline of his cock, dipping his head between the space where your neck and shoulder meet.

With your hand wrapped around his cock, he realized why his friends claimed they’d never jerk off ever again. Your hand felt completely different compared to his right hand, a feeling he wanted to experience again and again; never wanting his own right hand to come near his cock ever again.

He immediately began fiddling with the button of your pants, not wanting to wait any longer; afraid he’d cum right there and then if he didn’t get to fuck you within the next 30 seconds. Your hand left his cock, a whine almost leaving his throat as you helped him get your own pants off; one of his hands finding its way down your underwear the second your pants slid down your legs.

‘’Fuck,’’ He mumbled into the pillow as he felt the sticky fabric against his fingers, hooking one of his fingers under your underwear before slowly sliding them down your legs. He propped himself up using one of his arms, looking down at your glistening core; another groan leaving his lips. ‘’Can you please fuck me now?’’ Your whine made him look up at you, his eyes wide; filled with anticipation.

You looked beautiful. Jake always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you laying underneath him with lust-filled eyes, you looked ten times more beautiful to him.

He only nodded in response as he pulled his underwear down, his cock hitting his abdomen; his tip red and leaking precum, still begging for attention. ‘’Do you have condoms?’’ You asked, your eyes meeting his; realizing you probably don’t have any laying around. A small smile formed on his lips as he grabbed his pants, searching through his pockets. ‘’Of course I do, you never know when you might lose your virginity.’’ He smiled as he pulled out a condom, causing you to roll your eyes as he ripped the package open.

Jake suddenly became nervous as he lined his cock against your entrance, his eyes meeting yours once again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a small smile; noticing the worry in his eyes. ‘’Take your time, okay? Do what feels good for you,’’ You reassured him, causing Jake to nod in reply once again; rubbing his tip against your entrance, collecting your arousal.

The second Jake pushed his tip inside of you, he realized what his friends had been talking about all this time. He let out a deep breath as he felt your wet walls clench around him, burying his head in the pillow beside you once again as he tried to keep himself together. The feeling of your tight walls pulsating around him felt nothing like he had imagined, it felt so much better; way better than your hand had felt.

A small moan left your lips as he pushed his cock all the way in, grabbing onto his shoulders as you parted your lips. ‘’You’re so big,’’ You whimpered into his ear, causing Jake to let out a groan. ‘’I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that,’’ He mumbled, pressing a small kiss onto your neck.

After staying still for a minute, getting used to the feeling and collecting himself, he slowly began pulling out. Your walls dragging along his hard cock, coating him in your arousal felt like nothing he had ever experienced before; his friend's endless bragging suddenly making so much sense. He thrusted into you once again, another moan leaving your lips; causing Jake to repeat his actions.

His thrusts were awkward at first, trying to figure a pace that worked for him without him immediately being close to his release; but soon enough, he found a pace that worked for him and it certainly seemed to be working for you as well.

‘’Fuck, Jake,’’ You moaned, throwing your head onto the pillow beside you as he kept thrusting into you, grunts leaving his lips, his lips occasionally pressing wet kisses against the skin of your shoulder. ‘’Feels so good,’’ He grunted against your skin, his thrusts becoming even harsher. ‘’You’re doing so good,’’ You whimpered, the familiar feeling of warmth building up inside of Jake’s stomach.

Your words only made Jake thrust into you harder, causing even louder moans to leave your lips as his speed increased. You could tell he was close to his release by the way his thrusts were becoming sloppier, grunts spilling from his lips.

It didn’t come as a surprise to either you or Jake that he was already on the verge of reaching his orgasm. You didn’t even mind the fact that you probably wouldn’t get to cum, the pretty sounds leaving his lips were more than enough for you.

‘’I’m gonna cum,’’ He suddenly let out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you wrapped your legs around him. ‘’Cum for me,’’ You mumbled into his ear, a final groan leaving his lips as he spilled his seed into the condom wrapped around his cock. Loud moans left his throat as he continued sloppily thrusting into you; riding out his own orgasm.

Heavy breathing filled the room as he rolled over, collapsing next to you; sweat dripping down his forehead. You turned around, looking over at the exhausted boy beside you; pieces of hair sticking to his forehead. He looked over at you, a small smile forming on his lips. You ran your hand through his hair, pushing the pieces of hair that had fallen onto his forehead away; a small forming on your lips as well.

‘’Did I do well?’’ He let out after a moment, still panting, not taking his eyes off you. You nodded in response, moving closer to him. ‘’You did really well.’’ You mumbled as you placed your head on his chest, feeling one of his arms wrap around your waist. ‘’I guess I’m no longer a virgin,’’ He chuckled, causing you to chuckle as well. ‘’Not even a thank you?’’ You let out, your eyes meeting his.

‘’You’re the best, thank you.’’ He smiled, a small smile forming on your lips; wrapping an arm around his torso. ‘’I’m your best friend after all.’’

‘’Maybe you can give me head next time, since you’re my best friend?’’

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eyelessfaces · 3 months

Text

keys

llewyn davis x reader

tiny short fic for my wet cat boyfriend llewyn<3

summary: you ask llewyn to officially move in with you.

warnings: tiniest bit of angst, mentions of being broke. it's barely there

tags: gn!reader, established relationship, uhh it's just sweet idk what to tell you

word count: 0.8k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog @eyelessupdates

Llewyn is standing, leaning against the kitchen counter, almost sitting on it, his hands gripping the edge of it. He sighs and rolls his eyes as you walk up to him handing him a small box, and he feels a bit guilty that you seem so excited about it when he is not really.

“What for,” he exhales as he takes the box from your hands and shakes his head. “You didn't have to.” he declares sternly, an almost scolding look over his face. Where some people say this just to be polite, Llewyn means it. You didn't have to.

“Open it!” you urge him, raising your eyebrows, biting down onto your bottom lip in apprehension and excitation. He sighs once again as he looks down at the tiny box in his hand.

“Come on, you know I don't like gifts, now I feel like I owe you something” he frowns, looking back up at you.

It's your turn to sigh in impatience as you put your hands on either side of his neck, pulling him closer to you so you can press your lips against his and get him to stop complaining; it’s one efficient way to stop him from talking back. He hums against your mouth, his free hand instinctively shifting to rest against your hip.

“Shut your mouth and open the damn box” you order him in a scolding whisper as you pull away, leaving him chuckling softly.

He licks his lips as he finally lifts the lid of the box, discovering a key inside.

“What is that” he frowns, looking up at you.

“It's a key, dumbass.” you scoff, shrugging.

“I know what it is.”

A heavy silence settles in the room, and it makes you confused. Llewyn takes the key out of the box, his expression unreadable as his gaze shifts from the small object to you. “Why”

“I want you to move in with me. Like, officially. No more couchsurfing” you declare. Even though you were a couple and Llewyn was spending most of his time at your place, he sometimes felt like he owed you and needed to give you space, crashing at the Gorfeins or at Jim and Jean’s from time to time.

“This doesn't change much, you're already basically living here anyways. But now it's official, and you have a key, so you won't have to get in through the fire escape when I'm not home” you add tentatively, trying to read over his face whatever he feels at the moment.

His silence is starting to make you anxious, starting to make you regret your decision. Maybe he’s not ready, maybe he doesn’t want this yet, maybe he doesn’t want this at all. You have never really talked about this, about anything regarding your future together.

“Yeah I figured but,” he finally starts, staring at the key in his hand. “It’s just… I can’t pay rent, angel.” he sighs, looking back at you with a miserable expression over his face.

“I know,” you huff out, relieved that it seems to be his only issue. “I’m not asking you to. You’ll help whenever you can” you nod. “I just want to lift this weight off your shoulders” you explain, your hand sliding to link with his.

“Like I said, it’s barely changing anything” you mutter under your breath.

He nods back at you, looking back at the key in his hand before putting it on the counter.

“Okay.”

Your eyebrows raise slightly. “Okay what? Okay you’ll live with me?”

“Yeah.” he smiles, his hands setting at your waist. “I’ll live with you.” he nods, pulling you closer as his arm wraps around your shoulders, peppering small kisses over your temple and forehead.

“Good” you say, leaning into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m glad you’re okay with it”

He scoffs, pressing another gentle kiss to your forehead. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been couchsurfing for years. It’s just a damn key but it means a lot.” he huffs out. “Don’t go thinking I’m sad about the thought of not sneaking in through the fire escape anymore.”

You laugh, “Your back will thank me” you smile looking up at him.

“Jean will thank you.” he corrects, earning a scoff from you before you cup his face and press a kiss against his cheek.

He grins sweetly as his lips brush against yours, before full on pressing them against your mouth.

“I'm glad you haven't grown tired of me yet. I love you” he says as he pulls away, his lips curling in a small, grateful smile.

“I don't think I could ever grow tired of you, Davis. I love you too.”

“It’s only a matter of time I’m afraid” he scoffs.

“Mh, we’ll see, then you’ll have to give back your key and beg me to even sleep on the couch” you declare, looking at him with pity.

“You’ll give me the couch treatment?” he gasps, falsely appalled.

“Oh that'll be if I'm kind enough to let you in,” you tease.

“Alright I think I liked you better when you said you couldn't ever grow tired of me”

—

SUPPORT YOUR FANFICS WRITERS, REBLOG, LEAVE A COMMENT, IT IS WHAT KEEPS US GOING<3

inside llewyn davis taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @campingwiththecharmings @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @spxctorsslxt @dowbastan

#llewyn davis #llewyn davis x reader #inside llewyn davis #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #sorry for the tags it's just to reach more people^^#oscar isaac

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hobisstar · 8 months

Text

blue | y!taehyung x fem!reader

summary: breaking up over difficult reasons was always tuff to handle. Everyone had their different ways with dealing with them. But, Taehyung wasn’t everyone, and he be damned if the love of his life thought it was okay to say such a thing.

warning: nothing too bad! light cursing, a little bit of angst, Taehyung is a little bit of a manipulator in this, tae is a painter in this. possessiveness.

tag list: none!

a/n: Hello! i’ve been on a role but this one will be short! just wanted to get an idea out before i go to bed! if you like this short one, let me know if i should make a longer version of it! enjoy!

disclaimer: as always, i do not intend to say that anyone i write open are actually like this. this is purely fiction and i would like to only keep it that way.

Blue.

the color that y/n thought explained her relationship deeply. it was the color that she picked out in each apartment she shared with her lover, Taehyung.

She loved him… at the start. she really did. But once his career started to take off, he changed and for the worst. he constantly was coming home late after hang out with some painters, constantly smelling like someone else’s perfume, constantly sleeping in on days that the both of them planned to go out and see the world, see the blue.

this time, it was the last straw. taehyung had come back at 3 am with some girl and a guy that was carrying him inside. she promised herself that in the morning she would leave and never return. tired of living the life of a famous man’s forgotten girlfriend.

morning comes and y/n was awaken by the smell of coffee and breakfast but also by the sound of smooth jazz playing. She assumed Tae was in one of his many paintings moods. When he was hungover, coffee and painting was his remedy. Always came up with a beautiful painting that he described as “ lady” who he said always was made in the thoughts of Y/N.

as she got up, took a shower and did her daily morning routine, she remembered her promise. This ends today, now, right now. Yes, she loves him or loved him. But she couldn’t continue to live like this anymore.

She walked to the closet and grabbed the nearest duffel bag and packed most off her clothes shoes and under garments. Lucky for her, her best friend lived not too far from here and always offered her home to her.

Once everything was packed she was heading down the huge staircase and realized that Tae must of been in the kitchen painting this time. She put everything of hers in her car and walked back in ready to end this, no matter what he said, Y/N was completely leaving.

She walked into the kitchen hearing the sweet deep hums of her now mentally but not physically ex boyfriend. His back facing her, she cleared her voice.

“ Tae, do you remember anything about last night?” she asked sitting at the island. “ No, All i remember is that Jimin and Amy carried me home last night. Im sorry, Mi amor, for coming in so late..” he said smiling lightly. he was truly sorry even if it didn’t show. That was Taehyung.

his answers seemed cold, heartless even, but mistaken his love for Y/N. He loves her with his life.

“ Taehyung i can’t do this anymore.” y/n blurted. While still painting Taehyung answered “ Hmm? Do what my dear?” he softly put the paint brush against the canvas. He was painting an image of what their intimacy looked like in art form. Though he had plenty of these paintings, it’s the only thing he would paint after being drunk.

“ Us. Im tired of the drinking, the partying, the coming home at whatever time of night, the ditching me, the canceling dates for the faulty friends of yours. Im tired of sitting in this colorless home when our love is supposed to make it colorful. Im done, Tae. I want to break up.” You stated and took a breath that you didn’t realize you held in. Being this honest felt so refreshing. “ I don’t need your answer, i already packed my things and i’m going to stay with my family for now until i find me a place permanently.” she cut in.

nothing. Taehyung said nothing. but oh he was thinking it. his mind just running on thoughts. he wanted to be okay and accept her choice like a normal human, but he damn sure wasn’t normal. he’s always had the thoughts of locking Y/N up when the day of her maybe wanting to leave came about. he didn’t know it be that fast.

why does she want to leave him so bad? when did y/n have all these issues with his lifestyle? why is it just now coming up? why doesn’t want to talk about it? all of these of examples of what is running through his head. instead of actually letting out a answer, he lets a huff out as he puts his paintbrushes down.

“ Why are you trying to leave?” he asked lowly, “ why is my lifestyle all of a sudden a problem for you?” he just wanted answers. Though he was really trying to add time so he could think about ways to keep her locked her.

He always has bodyguards at their house in the entrance, he could have them bring her bags in and get her car towed. Have them get their food, send out his newest works while he stayed in the house with her. Yeah, he thinks he’ll do exactly that.

“ Trying? oh no Kim, i’m leaving. All of sudden? i’ve mentioned your drinking and party habits plenty of times but you thought i was just nagging you so you ‘mi amor’ d your way out of it,” Y/N stood up and walked out the kitchen to the living room. Taehyung took this time to text his body guards to grab her things out her car, bring them to the back, take her car somewhere far, sell it and put the house on lock down.

He smirked and walked out of the kitchen and stood at the door way between the living room and kitchen, watching her walk to the front door but only to freeze.

Y/N saw the blue light on security system, the light means that the house was on lock down, no way in and no way out, unless you have the code which Taehyung changes every month. He just so happened to had change it earlier this morning. Good choice he was thinking.

“ Taehyung, take off the lock down.” Y/N stated while standing by the door, waiting. He smiled and walked close to her and leaned against the wall.

“ Y/N~, Mi amor~, i find it absolutely entertaining that he had any hope in assuming i was going to let you out this house. You don’t make the choices for us, baby. I do. I decided when you can walk away. And i decided you can’t-“ - “ you can’t force me to stay in here,” “ Cut me off again and i’ll lock you up without any food or water for the next two days until you learn your lesson.” He walked away and sat on the couch organizing the table in front of it.

Y/N was trying to figure out the code. she tried her birthday, nothing, his birthday, nothing, their anniversary, surprise, nothing. “ There is no use, princess.” he turned to look at her. “ It’s not Yeon’s birthday either or the day we got him. You should be a good girl. maybe i’ll let you out early.” he smiled, the smile you used to love.

y/n didn’t expect this. she never thought Tae would do something like this. locking her and hisself in the house for god knows how long? maybe months, maybe years…

“ Let’s go paint something, baby. And don’t be so blue, i won’t hurt you…” he mumbled the last part while staring at her.

Blue.

the color y/n now understands why she thought it was their color. Taehyung always had a way of making her feel stuck. Defeated. Lost with no where to go. he made her feel…

Blue.

#bts x reader #bts taehyung #kim taehyung #thv #bts v #yandere taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung #taehyung angst

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