#( r. make a symphony out of me. )

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — 𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆 + 𝒅𝒓. 𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐. ˒ ⊹

cw fem reader / threesome / aventurine x f!reader x ratio / i wrote this directly into tumblr drafts; it is not proofread. proceed w caution EL O EL / usage of petnames (darling, sweetheart) / mentions of mindbreak / degradation and dirty talk / dacryphilia / light choking / teasing / oral (m!receiving) / spit-roast

love, oak! just a lil drabble. aven and veritas have me in a chokehold i fear.

i constantly think about how being in a relationship w both veritas ratio and aventurine would be...

i think, purposefully or not, things turn a little bit competitive with the two of them. who can take you out on the better date, who buys you the best gifts—and most importantly: who satisfies you the most.

and it’s not that they necessarily hate eachother so much they want to one-up the other (on the contrary; they like having you in common. being at your beck and call is what they live for, to your eternal surprise), they just find it fun. and it's the kind of fun they indulge in every night, making a symphony out of your sweet moans and pleasure-soaked whimpers.

this just happened to be one of those nights.

"look 't her. so depraved. our good girl, eh, ratio?"

"shut it, aventurine. i don't want to hear you talking when there's something much prettier to listen to right here."

seated on veritas's lap, he grasps your hips in his large hands as he guides you onto his thick length. a long moan falls from your lips as you feel the tip breach your dripping cunt, followed by a pleasant ache and stretch as he pulls your hips flush to his.

a warm breath ghosts the shell of your ear. aventurine crowds you from behind, the blazing heat of his chest pressing against your back. his hands ghost up your sides, leaving gooseflesh in their wake as they make their way up your body. he cups your tits, massaging the supple flesh and rolling your nipples, adding to the orchestra of stimulation the two men were making you feel.

"i suppose i can agree with you on that. she sounds just so delightful, doesn't she? makes me wanna break her—" a breathy whimper leaves you as aventurine licks up the skin of your neck, leaving a blazing trail of wetness as he kisses the shell of your ear. he continues in a soft whisper, "—yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

ratio holds your hips tightly, denying you the pleasure of grinding down against him. his smile is serpentine as he looks up at you. "go on—answer him, darling. would you like us to fuck you until you can't even remember your own name?"

ratio's golden eyes narrow, watching your every move. the way you squeeze your eyes shut, bottom lip taken between your teeth as you stifle a sob. he can't help himself—his hips buck slightly, drawing another breathy moan from your throat.

"she just clenched so nicely around me. i think she would like that. what do you think, aventurine?" ratio's voice drips with sultry honey as he speaks. his hands cup the globes of your ass, slowly coaxing you to move along his length. the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls is maddening, and you pulse around him in response as he forces you back down. his tip hits that spongy little spot inside you, bringing tears to line your pretty eyes, making your mascara run as droplets drip down your face.

aventurine pauses mouthing along your neck to smile. there's nothing pleasant in that grin though—only the feral need to please you, to take you in the palm of his hand and mold you to his liking. right now, he'd like nothing more than for you to be his pretty little cockslut, taking him and ratio until they had nothing left to give you.

"i think so too," aventurine responds. his hand grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together as he forces you to meet his gaze. there's so much love and adoration for you in those beautiful cerulean and lavender eyes, mixed with a cruel hunger that glimmers as he leans in, tongue peeking out to lick away the salty tears that run down your cheeks. "god, sweetheart. you look so pretty like this. is ratio's cock satisfying enough for you? is he making you feel good?"

you nod fervently, mouth falling open in a moan as aventurine's hand snakes down to play with your clit while ratio works you up and down his cock. they work in perfect tandem; of course, they've done this a million times before. ratio and aventurine have perfected the art of pleasing you.

"use your words, darling. am i making you feel good?" ratio hisses between gritted teeth. he's obviously feeling good too, if the way his cock twitches inside you is any indication. aventurine lets your face go in favor of letting it drift down, holding your neck gently. a promise, you think. it sends a thrilling feeling down your spine, your nerves alight with electricity as you try to roll your hips down against ratio. the hand around your neck tightens a fraction, the hand on your clit pausing, drifting away and caressing the sensitive skin of your thighs as aventurine waits for your response.

"yes, yes!" you cry out, desperate for any sort of friction. your hips buck fruitlessly. "feels s'good, veri!"

you're rewarded with aventurine's fingers deftly working at your clit again as ratio bucks his hips, fucking up into you. his pace isn't fast, but he hits you so deeply it sends your entire being into a frenzy. you can feel your stomach tighten, a telltale sign of what's to come.

"atta girl. you're taking him like a champ, aren't ya? don't forget about me, though. you can take more, surely?" aventurine drawls.

aventurine nods to ratio and suddenly you're being manhandled, forced onto your knees. you can feel ratio behind you while aventurine greets your face with a sanguine smile. you bite down the whimper that fights to escape you at the lack of stimulation—you were so close. with the way aventurine's smile is slowly poisoned with a smug satisfaction, he knows it too.

"hi, sweetheart." aventurine says as he unbuckles his belt with a clink. he pushes the fabric of his pants and boxers down, his cock obscenely slapping against his abdomen as its freed. he's already leaking pre; despite his put-together demeanor, you know he's desperate for you. you smile at him as he languidly pumps his cock.

you watch as aventurine seems to have a silent conversation with ratio. it lasts only a heartbeat—he looks back down at you as he brings his tip to your lips. your tongue darts out, running along the head, down the length of him, drawing a pretty moan from aventurine that makes your stomach do flips. as your lips close around him, you feel ratio push into you again, a lewd squelch sounding as he sinks into you.

they work you in tandem, aventurine holding your face as he guides your mouth on his cock, ratio fucking into you from behind. you're already close again. you can feel it.

"she loves this," ratio notes, a hint of smugness in his voice. "she's absolutely drooling around me. feel good, darling?"

of course, you can't respond. aventurine fucks your mouth gently, his eyebrows furrowed as he groans. you can see every twitch of his abs, the roll of his muscles as he fights down the pleasure your lips bring him.

"oh yeah. she’s definitely enjoying herself. don’t tire yourself out too fast though, i can go all night." aventurine smirks.

it feels like ratio’s thrusts grow a bit more punishing. his large hands grip the fat of your ass tightly as he says, "worry about yourself. i lasted longer than you last time, remember? not to worry though. i won’t stop until our darling is completely satisfied. isn’t that right?"

aventurine’s hips stutter slightly as you moan around his cock. "let’s see who makes her cum the most then, shall we?"

"fine then. we shall."

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[wosoamazing]

Till Death Do Us Part

Barça x R | Lionesses x R | Matildas x R Warnings: Childbirth Complications (Amniotic Fluid Embolism), Death, Grief (please tell me if I’ve missed any) - also google translated Spanish/Catalan

Edited

Hopefully this is good, let me know what you think. Inspired by Ed Sheeran's song "Welcome to the World" (Was going to wait to post but yeah, posting it now)

“Irene, have you spoken to-” Alexia was stopped in her tracks when she turned the corner into the locker room, there you stood, the person Alexia was about to ask Irene if she had spoken too. There you stood, holding your two week old baby in your arms. There you stood in the middle of the locker room, rocking her as tears streamed down your face.

“C-can some-” you choked out as you gestured to the baby in your arms who Irene carefully scooped up into her arms before walking back out the room and shutting the door.

Alexia caught you as you threw yourself at her. She held your trembling body in her arms. The sobs wracking your body so deep and heavy they were silent. Alexia held onto you tightly, knowing no amount of reassurance could make the pain go away. Nothing would ever take this pain away. Nothing could ever bring your wife back, nothing could ever bring your daughter's other Mum back. Your wife, your life partner, died two weeks ago during birth, what was meant to be the happiest day of your life, wasn't, she had an amniotic fluid embolism. You had meet her when she first joined Barça, Lucy and Kiera introduced you to 'Australian Alex', being one of two Alex's at City she was given that nickname, her full name was Alexandra but she hated it. You felt an instant connection, you trusted her, which was weird because you were careful with who you let into your life you were quite and reserved usually until Alexia managed to convince you that they were a good person and you could trust them. You signed for Barça the same year as Alexia, you were English breed and born but you moved to Spain when you were ten, so you moved through the ranks of La Masia before singing with Barça meaning you grew close to Alexia over the years even though you were two years younger than her, you both were always two of the youngest players on any of your teams. Your parents died 6 months after you signed for Barça and Alexia and her family helped you through it, Eli told you she was going to be your 'mother' from now on, and that she was. You went to every family diner, you spent Christmas with them, you were always the first person Eli went to, to ask questions when she was concerned about her eldest daughter.

2 weeks ago

“It’s okay, you’re doing so good,” you told her as she threw up again, “are you sure it’s normal she is throwing up this much?” you asked the nurse yet again who just dismissed you.

“It hurts,” she whimpered out.

“I know, I’m so sorry, I wish I could help, I wish I could make it better,” you said as you pressed the emergency call button continuously.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” The doctor said as he rushed in.

“I-I can’t breath,” she panted out before just about every monitor in the room started to alarm.

“She’s crashing, bag her. Call a code blue, we need an OR stat,” the doctor ordered.

The sound of the wheels being unlocked reverberated around the room, joining the symphony of alarms, and she was whisked away. Wheeled down the hall, gone, you were left standing, in the empty room, wondering what had gone completely and utterly wrong, this was meant to be the best day of your lives.

“Bronze, Walsh, I can trust you,” Irene said, relieved.

“Door. Baby. Don’t let anyone go in. Do not go in.” She said as she passed the newborn into Kiera’s arms, who started to rock her gently whilst cooing at her, “I’ll be back. I need to go talk to Jona. If Alexia asks for me, that's where I am.” she said as she started to walk off, before turning back around, “But I repeat do not open the door,” the two English women nodded blankly as Lucy moved to stand in front of the door. They were pretty sure they could hear someone crying through the door. It wasn’t Alexia.

“She is so cute.” Kiera said looking at Lucy who looked at the baby, before Kiera looked back down and Lucy lifted her gaze to the ceiling, “but to whom do you belong? And what’s going on in there?” Kiera asked whilst Lucy was trying to suppress her tears, the sight of the baby, your baby, brought tears to her eyes.

“Luce, don’t you think she looks familiar?” Kiera asked as she looked up at the defender again, seeing her eyes glossed over, the ginger’s heart immediately sank. It was you who was crying, it was your baby, “oh,” Kiera let slip.

“Yeah,” the defender bit her lip and nodded slightly.

2 months and 2 weeks since Alexia held your sobbing body in the locker room. 2 months and 2 weeks after moving into Alexia’s spare room, you found yourself in Bilbao. You found yourself in the Champions League Final starting XI. You found yourself leading your line out. It was a bittersweet moment, but you knew she was watching from above, and your now 3 month old baby was in the family section in the arms of Alexia’s mother. Every single Barcelona player and staff member wore a black armband. Everyone agreed (without your input) that this game would be for her.

____

Yet again you found yourself on the verge of tears, something that seemed common these days. However Alexia’s actions had confused you enough to help keep them at bay. She had lined up at the start of the medal line to collect her medal, which was confusing in and of itself as she was the one who needed to collect the trophy, but then she handed her medal to Ingrid and lined back up behind you.  However the confusion Alexia caused was slowly being taken over by the never ending pit of sadness inside you, and as you walked up onto that podium you realised going last maybe wasn’t the best idea. There were two medals left to be handed out, and you knew exactly who the, now spare, medal belonged to, you received your medal and kept walking fast, until you arrived in front of Lucy, turning around to face the podium again, knowing Alexia was going to make a speech before lifting the trophy. Lucy wrapped her arms around you from behind and placed her chin on your shoulder, the action spreading some warmth in you, temporarily hiding the pain.

You watched Alexia nod in the direction of Jona who nodded back to her before she pulled her shirt off, revealing a second shirt, the tears couldn’t be kept at bay anymore and when she collected that final medal you let out a silent sob as your tears became heavier.

Alexia made sure to display the back of the shirt to all sides of the filled stadium before taking the microphone, beginning a speech, different to her normal one. She was explaining who you’d all played the match for. She was informing the fans, something you hadn’t even thought about doing. Alexia teared up as she spoke, having to swallow back her emotions every once in a while. That’s when you realised it, she was gone forever. You started to cry harder and Lucy turned you around in her arms and held you tightly, as your body shook from your tears. You were transferred into Alexia’s arms at one stage, she was also crying, because she missed her, but she was also crying for you, for your daughter, for all the moments you will never get to have together as a family.

“Thank you,” you sputtered out as you leaned back from the hug, she took your head in her hands, as she shook her head at you, using the pads of her thumbs to wipe your tears away, causing a small smile to crack on both of your faces.

“Let’s go lift this trophy shall we,” you both laughed. Maybe? Before you hugged each other tightly and went to join the rest of the team who were waiting. After a few trophy lifts your families were allowed onto the pitch, and Mapi immediately took your baby girl from Eli and placed her in the trophy cup, before she carefully lifted it up, earning a scowl from Alexia, who promptly rescued her niece.

_____

“Do you think Auntie Ellie will want to meet you?” you asked the 3 month old. Strategically positioning yourself close enough so that the Australian would hear, but far enough away that she hadn’t seen you yet.

“Really,” she said as she lifted her head from Dan’s shoulder and looked up to you.

“Of course.” you said as you walked over to her, handing her your daughter to hold.

“Ellie meet Matilda Alex Y/L/N”

[natsaffection]

Mafia's Mistress pt. 1 | N.R

MafiaBoss!Natasha x Civilian!YoungerReader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22), kinda manipulative Nat, Oral and fingering (r receiving), restraints, begging, edging and normal stuff :v

Word Count: 4,8 K

A/N: First of many parts is here! I want to post about it every Sunday, so if you want to be tagged, let me know and have fun! 🫱🏼‍🫲🏻

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined that you would be sitting in such a large penthouse, with hundreds of security guards around you who only have one order: to keep you safe.

Never would you have thought that you would no longer have to worry about money, or what you would do if you were running low at the end of the month. Never would you have thought that this one person would turn out to be the strongest and most feared woman in the world.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Six Month ago ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

In the heart of the bustling city, where neon lights painted the streets pink and blue, you hurriedly made your way through the crowded sidewalks, your heart pounding with excitement and fear as you clutched your books tightly to your chest.

The rhythmic hum of the city enveloped you, a symphony of car horns, distant chatter, and the occasional street performer's tune. As you rounded a corner, your hasty steps faltered, causing you to collide with a figure cloaked in shadow. A gasp escaped your lips as you stumbled back, your books slipping from your grasp and scattering across the sidewalk like fallen leaves.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you looked up, your eyes widening in surprise as you met the piercing gaze of a woman in front of you. She stand tall and imposing, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders like a waterfall, framing a face that exuded an aura of mystery and danger. Your breath caught, a mixture of fear and curiosity swirling inside you like a tempestuous storm.

The woman bore into you with a piercing gaze, studying you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, the tension thickening like syrup as the world around you seemed to fade into the background.

"I-I'm so sorry," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

The woman's expression remained invisible as she raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, her gaze still on you. The silence between you stretched, full of unspoken questions and unspoken emotions. “You don’t need to apologize,” her voice was a melodic blend of honey and ice, each word carefully weighed and imbued with a hidden depth that sent a chill down your spine once again. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of emerald green, had an enigmatic glow, as if they could see through your innermost being and unravel the layers of your soul with a single glance.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

As you and the woman settled into a cozy corner of the bustling cafe, the scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you in a warm embrace. You couldn’t help but cast coy glances at the woman in front of you.

“So,” Natasha, how she introduced herself began with silky elegance as she took a sip of her coffee, “What made you offer me a coffee as an apology?” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the weight of guilt once again weighing on your heart. "I just felt really bad about bumping into you," you admit, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "And I wanted to make it up to you somehow."

Natasha looked at you with a knowing look, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, you certainly know how to make a first impression," she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I have to admit, I was a little surprised by your offer." You couldn't help but feel a wave of relief at Natasha's words, your fear melting away like snow under the warm spring sun.

"I'm glad you accepted," you say, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "I was worried you'd find it weird." Natasha giggled softly, which was music to your ears. "Believe me, I've encountered far stranger things in my line of work," she said cryptically, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "But I have to admit, this is a first for me." As you both talked, Natasha's phone buzzed incessantly in her pocket, a constant reminder of the world outside her little bubble.

With practiced ease, she discreetly checked her messages, her expression unreadable as she absorbed the information being relayed to her. You can't help but notice the subtle change in Natasha's demeanor, the way her expression softened ever so slightly as she glanced at her phone.

Before you could think about it any further, Natasha pocketed her phone and turned her attention back to you, a small smile playing on her lips. "So, tell me more about yourself. What do you do when you're not bumping into mysterious strangers on the street?"

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the question, your fingers tightening around your coffee cup.

"Um, my name is Y/n, I'm a journalist.." When you told her, Natasha's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, her eyes widening with interest. "Journalist?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with curiosity. "That's.. fascinating. Why did you choose this profession?" Your heart skipped a beat at Natasha's genuine interest, a warmth spreading through you as she realized Natasha was genuinely interested in you. "I've always loved telling stories," you explain, your voice growing more confident with each word. "As a journalist, I can shed light on important issues and give a voice to those who need it most."

Natasha leaned closer to you, her eyes shining with admiration. "That's incredibly noble," she said seriously, her words making you tremble with excitement. "I have to admit, I've never met a journalist before. This must be quite an adventure." As they continued to chat, you felt her opening up to Natasha in a way she hadn't with anyone else. Natasha's genuine interest calmed you down and made you feel valued and appreciated.

You gathered up all your courage and decided to ask Natasha's question herself, "What do you do for a living?" Natasha's smile disappeared for a split second, a barely perceptible hint of hesitation crossing her face before she regained her composure. "Oh, I work in marketing," she answered smoothly, her voice betraying none of the uncertainty that lingered in her head.

"That sounds interesting too," you say in a polite tone, trying to hide your lingering curiosity. “What do you like most about it?” Natasha’s smile widened, relief flooding through her as you accepted her answer without further questioning, “I love the creative aspect of it,” Natasha replied, her words flowing effortlessly as she slipped into the role of the confident professional. “Coming up with new ideas and strategies to promote products and services is a challenge, but a rewarding one.”

As the two of you continued your conversation in the cozy corner of the busy cafe, Natasha couldn’t help but notice the genuine warmth and innocence you exuded. Despite the complexity of her own life and the secrets she kept, Natasha found herself drawn to the simplicity and sincerity of your interaction.

It was rare that she let her guard down and had a conversation without the weight of her past weighing on her, but with you, it felt effortless.

As your conversation reached its peak, however, Natasha’s phone buzzed with an urgent message. Her expression remained stoic as she looked at the screen, "Y/n, I'm sorry, but I have to go," Natasha said in an apologetic tone as she quickly packed up her things. "Something came up at work."

Your heart sank at the abrupt change of plans, but you nodded in understanding, hiding your disappointment behind a polite smile. "Of course, I hope everything is okay?"

Natasha smiled reassuringly at you, although there was something unreadable in her eyes. "Everything will be fine," she said with more conviction than you expected.

Before you could even offer to pay for her coffee, Natasha quickly reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet.

"Let me take care of this, as a thank you for the time," Natasha insisted, her voice firm but gentle as she approached the counter to settle the bill. Despite the haste in her movements, Natasha's demeanor remained calm, her actions swift and purposeful.

You watched in surprise as Natasha paid for both coffees, a small gesture that spoke volumes amidst the chaos of her abrupt departure.

"Thank you," you say quietly as you walk towards the door. Natasha smiled warmly at you, her eyes softening with genuine affection. "It was a pleasure, Y/n," she replied in a soft voice, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

And with that, Natasha disappeared into the busy streets of the city, leaving you standing alone in the entrance of the cafe.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Later this Day ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Dark clouds loomed over you as you moved stealthily through the deserted alleys of the city, your camera at the ready and your senses on high alert. You had received an anonymous tip about illegal dealings taking place in secret, and you were determined to gather evidence for your next story.

As you carefully snapped photos of the desolate surroundings, you didn't notice the figure lurking behind it until it was almost too late. With a startled gasp, you stumbled backwards, your heart racing as you turned to face the unexpected intruder.

To your surprise, Natasha stood before you, a shadowy figure in the dimly lit alley. Your breath caught as you met Natasha's piercing gaze, a feeling of unease settling over you like a thick fog.

"N-Natasha?" you greet carefully, your voice tinged with suspicion as you eye the woman in front of you.

Natasha's expression softened as she looked at you with amusement, a playful glint appearing in her eyes. "Well, what a surprise to see you again," Natasha remarked with a wry smile. "Are you following me by any chance?"

Your suspicion grew at Natasha's light-hearted remark, your head racing with questions about the woman's true intentions. "I could ask you the same," you reply, your tone tinged with skepticism as you watch Natasha's every move.

Natasha's smile vanished for a moment, a hint of uncertainty crossing her face before she regained her composure. "Touché," she replied with a giggle, although there was a hint of tension in her voice. "Maybe we're just two ships passing each other in the night."

As raindrops began to fall from the darkening sky, Natasha's demeanor changed and a mischievous glint came into her eyes. "Looks like it's about to pour," she remarked with a mischievous grin. "Why don't we leave this desolate alley and find somewhere more.. inviting?"

You nod, still stunned that you've met again. As you make your way to a slightly brighter area, you can't shake the feeling that Natasha is looking you up and down and you speak up again,

"So..." you begin, your voice laced with suspicion as you glance sideways at the enigmatic woman next to you. "What were you really doing back there? Looking for your next victim?"

You try to lighten the mood with a mischievous joke, although the tension between you was somehow palpable. Natasha chuckled softly, her eyes flickering with amusement as she considered your joke. "See through it..." she replied ironically, her voice laced with a hint of desire. "But I'm afraid the truth is far less exciting than you might think."

Your brow furrowed in confusion, your mind racing to decipher Natasha's cryptic words. "Less exciting?" you repeat, your voice laced with uncertainty. Natasha nodded, her expression carefully neutral as she met your gaze. "Yes," she replied quietly, her mind preoccupied with the image of you in her bed. What?

"You know, I was... hoping to find someone and I seem to have gotten a little carried away and ended up in the right place at the right time." Natasha's excuse and lie took a completely different turn than she had originally intended. But better this way than that.

Your eyes widened as you realized what Natasha had said and your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "Oh," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I understand." Natasha's desire burned even hotter at your reaction, her head racing at the thought of having you all to herself. What is wrong with her?

"How about it?" Your breath caught in your throat as you fought to keep your composure. Your mind was clouded by Natasha's proximity. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, I shouldn't have... um, whatever." But Natasha's desire burned too fiercely to be ignored, and she couldn't resist the temptation to take what she wanted. "You know what?" she said suddenly, her tone dripping with seduction. "Since you're already here, why don't you come to my place? I could make us something to eat and then we'll see where it takes us, what do you think?" Your eyes widened in surprise at Natasha's unexpected invitation, your heart racing with excitement and concern.

"Oh, I don't know..." you begin, your voice full of uncertainty. But Natasha's desire burned too fiercely to be suppressed, and she couldn't resist the urge to push you further. "We can just eat. Continue our conversation from the coffee shop.” she said now in a gentle tone so as not to push her away

And when you hesitated for a moment and uncertainty flickered in your eyes, Natasha's unwavering gaze and her energetic tone convinced you to take the leap into the unknown. “But you promise me not to kill me in secret, okay?” Natasha rolled her eyes inwardly, your sweet little manner does something to her. “Promise.”

You had imagined her area exactly like that. Natasha seems classy, ​​elegant to you and so does her apartment. Small, simple, modern. Her interior looks exactly like that. She goes into the kitchen, “Are you of legal age yet?” The question threw you off track a little, was that ironic? Did she mean it - “That was a joke... loosening up, you're stiff.” You smile nervously. Maybe it all happened too quickly for you. Natasha puts two wine glasses on the table and brings a bottle of water, "Take what you want," she leans across from you. You sit on the plush sofa and wait for something. Anything.

"You know, I'm not used to getting to know people." You were glad that she finally said something, so you could at least carry on a conversation now, "That's it. You're going to kill me." You answer sarcasm-wise. Natasha grinned again, "What makes you always think that?" You unconsciously bite your lip and scratch the rim of the glass in your hand with your nails. "I don't know...You...Please don't take this negatively, but you look like that sometimes.." As you continue to babble about your own words, Natasha only thinks one thing. That's how it should be.

Natasha laughed softly and put her glass on the table. "Well, maybe I just like to keep the people around me guessing. Am I a killer? Am I just a poor, lonely woman looking for her pleasure in the night? Or something else entirely? It's exciting to reveal who you really are, bit by bit. It's a dance of seduction...and I like to think I'm an artist in that regard."

You felt your pulse quicken and your gaze fell to Natasha's lips. "I wouldn't mind seeing you like this..." You put everything on the line. You want her.

Natasha shifted in her seat, a devilish glint in her eyes. "You say that like you're ready for a private performance," she teased. You met her gaze, the tension in the room running like a wire. "Maybe I am..." you admitted. Natasha's mouth twisted into a slow, knowing smile. With a quick movement, she drank the rest of her wine and raised her eyebrow. "Well, since this seems to be the premiere of a solo exhibition, maybe I should leave the stage and take a bow."

You felt your face turn red. "I-I'd love to," you said, your breath catching. Natasha rose, an aura of seductive confidence surrounding her like a second skin as she walked around the coffee table. You watched, heart pounding, as Natasha stood between your outstretched legs. Slowly, she reached for your water glass and placed it next to her own, her movements deliberate and graceful. "I want your full attention," she murmured, her minty breath blowing against your face.

You nodded, your voice catching in your throat as Natasha lowered herself and your lips met in a feverish kiss. You felt Natasha's hands brush against your sides. Natasha chucked, her voice glowing with desire. "You're so nervous." She pulled back, her piercing green eyes meeting yours.

"Let me help you." Natasha's hands began to explore your body, her touch like fire on your skin. Slowly, she unbuttoned your blouse, her lips brushing against your neck with each button she unbuttoned. You arched your back and moaned softly as Natasha's lips touched your bare skin and her tongue found its way to the curve of your breast.

Natasha teased your nipples with her teeth, pulling and sucking until you were squirming in her lap and your fingers were clutching Natasha's red locks. Natasha's hands moved further down and reached for the zipper of your jeans. She pulled it down slowly, her fingers brushing against your inner thigh. You bit your lip and your hips jerked as Natasha's hand entered your panties and found them soaking wet and ready for her touch.

Natasha teased your opening, her fingers circling your clit in slow, deliberate movements that made you squirm with desire. "N-Natasha.." you gasped, your fingers clinging tighter to Natasha's hair. "Don't tease m-me.." Natasha groaned and her fingers continued to dance over your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. "You wanted a private showing. I'll give it to you," Natasha purred, her fingers dipping into your wetness. She stroked you slowly and teasingly before sliding two fingers inside you.

You moaned and your head fell back as Natasha's fingers began to move in a steady rhythm. Natasha's thumb circled your clit, increasing the pressure inside you. "O-Oh.." you gasped, your hands grabbing Natasha's shoulders. Natasha grinned as she felt the walls of your pussy clench around her fingers. "You like that?" she taunted in a deep, sensual voice. "You like how I fuck you with my fingers and make you wetter than ever?"

You could only nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as Natasha continued to stroke you. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body shaking with pleasure. Natasha's fingers were relentless, driving you higher and higher until you were a writhing mess on her lap. Suddenly Natasha pulled her fingers out, making you gasp in need.

"No, no, no," you whimper, your body begging for more. Natasha giggled, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Patience, I'm not done with you yet." She stood up, took your hands and pulled you up with her. Natasha led you to the nearby wall, pressing your back against it as you lowered your head to hide your noises from her. She could feel your hands wandering over her body, Natasha's hips grinding against you, searching for friction.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Y/n?" You nodded, your breath catching as Natasha's teeth grazed your neck. "Yes, please..” you pleaded, your voice hoarse with desire. Natasha's lips curved into a smile against your skin and she reached for the button of her own jeans. With a wave of her hand, they opened, revealing matching lacy underwear that left little to the imagination. You couldn't help but stare, your mouth going dry as Natasha stepped closer, your bodies snuggled close together. "Do you like what you see?" Natasha purred, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Then let me show you more."

Natasha reached out a hand to you, "Excited?" Skeptically, you followed Natasha close on her heels as the red-haired woman led you through her sprawling home. You meandered through the luxurious interior, which was decorated with sleek, modern furniture. Some rooms were light and airy, while others were softly lit with lamps and strategically placed candles.

You reached a room door hidden in a dark, secluded hallway, different from the rest of the house. Your heart raced, and your anticipation grew. This had to be her bedroom.

Natasha turned, looked over her shoulder, and caught your eye. "One thing I want to make sure of. If you feel uncomfortable, we can always go back to the living room, okay?"

Her green eyes shone with dark passion. You swallowed hard and nodded. You were nervous and excited at the same time with the anticipation of what was to come. Natasha smiled, her mouth twisting into a mischievous grin as she opened the door. "Welcome to my playroom," Natasha purred, reaching for a dimmer switch that gently bathed the room in a soft, seductive light.

Your eyes widened at the sight before you. Leather-clad walls were adorned with provocative artwork depicting scenes of bondage and domination. A steel frame loomed menacingly in one corner, and the air was filled with an indefinable, dark eroticism. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. Your breath caught as you took in the room, your body tingling with excitement and your stomach fluttering. Natasha stepped forward, her heels clicking imperiously on the stone floor. "What do you think?" You look at everything, let a few things slide through your hands and turn back to her, "I've always read about it...but never thought I'd...you know." Natasha smiled gently, "You don't have to be afraid. I promise you'd enjoy it." The voice was hypnotic, her words weaving a sensual spell. You nod, unable to find your voice as you surrendered to the moment.

Natasha moved closer to you, your bodies touching. Her hand reached out, gently caressing your cheek before moving down to her neck and resting gently on her pulse. "There's something about you. You're curious, exciting and open-minded. I want to show you what I like, what I love and what I desire. I want you to trust me and enjoy every moment. Surrender and I will guide you through an unforgettable experience."

Natasha's voice echoed through the room and you felt a surge of lust and adrenaline building in yours. You nodded again and whispered, "I trust you." With a mischievous grin, Natasha led you to the imposing steel bondage frame. She began to remove your clothing layer by layer, revealing your pale skin and the goosebumps that covered your body. Her fingers gently stroked your trembling body, increasing your anticipation.

You stood there, trembling with desire, as Natasha secured your wrists and ankles to a frame with soft, velvety shackles. Unyielding metal surrounded you, holding you captive, but instead of being afraid, you felt an incredible sense of freedom. Your body was at the mercy of this woman, this mysterious and sensual creature in front of you. Natasha moved around you, admiring you from every angle. "You're breathtaking," she murmured, running her fingertips over your torso.

You gasped at the touch, the warmth of Natasha's hand sending shivers down your spine. Your chest heaved, your heart pounding in your ears. Natasha's eyes locked on yours, and you knew that this woman had completely captivated you. "Do you trust me, Y/n?" Natasha asked in a deep and sensual voice.

"Yes," you whisper, unable to hide the desire etched on your face. Natasha's grin widened. "Good." And with that, she leaned forward, her lips pressed against yours with insatiable hunger. Their mouths moved in sync, exploring each other, their tongues dancing with each other like old lovers reuniting after a long separation. You moaned as Natasha's hand moved between your legs, parting your labia and finding your clit. She stroked it gently, sending waves of pleasure through your trembling body.

You whimpered, your eyes fluttering shut. Natasha continued to caress and tease you, moving her hand to gently thrust two fingers into your wet heat. Your hips bucked wildly, your body begging for more. Natasha grinned against your lips and thrust harder and faster, her fingertips grazing your G-spot.

You gasped, your whole body shaking as the familiar pressure of an orgasm built inside you. Natasha's lips found your ear, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't come yet. Not until I give you permission."

You continued to whimper and your eyes fluttered shut. "Please, Natasha," you begged, your voice hoarse and desperate, getting closer and closer to the edge of your climax. "No, not yet..." Natasha growled. "If you can't follow simple instructions, I'll have to punish you. And believe me, you don't want that." Natasha's voice was heavy with desire, her words silky and coated with promises.

Your body trembled, your breath caught as you shook your head. Natasha's hand moved away from your sex, making you tremble with anticipation. She stood behind you, her body pressed against yours from behind, her hands gripping your hips.

"Good girl," Natasha whispered in your ear, her lips brushing your earlobes. She trailed her lips down your neck, biting and sucking gently. "Please…" you begged, not even sure what you were begging for anymore. Natasha's hands moved from your hips, up your torso, tracing the curve of your breast before reaching up to gently grip your neck.

"Not yet," she said again, her voice a low rumble in your ear. Despite the pain between her legs, you breathed deeply and evenly, concentrating on the heady mix of pleasure and pain coursing through your body. Natasha's fingers on your neck sent shivers down your spine, the metal frame in your back a constant, comforting reminder of your vulnerability.

You were hoarse, desperate and full of longing. Natasha's lips curled into a wicked smile, her eyes shining with desire as she slowly sank to her knees. Her hands slid over your trembling thighs, gently pushing them apart and giving her unhindered access.

Your breath caught as Natasha's tongue darted out and circled your aching clitoris in slow, deliberate circles. You shuddered, the mixture of lust and anticipation driving you wild. With each stroke of Natasha's tongue, your hips bucked, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, the buildup of your orgasm threatening to overwhelm you. But Natasha didn't let you come yet.

"Beg for it," she commanded in a firm but hoarse voice. The command made you shudder. You were soaking wet and aching for release, but you held back, enjoying the delicious agony. "Please, Natasha, make me come. I'm begging you!!”

But Natasha was relentless, refusing to let you find your release. Instead, she teased you with slow, gentle flicks of her tongue, occasionally sucking your swollen clit into her mouth. Your toes curled, your fingers clenched into fists as Natasha continued her torture. "F-Fuck, Natasha, I'm so c-close.." you whimper, trying to push your hips against Natasha's mouth.

But Natasha's grip on your thighs tightened, holding you still and prolonging her torment. "Do you deserve to come?" Natasha asked, her voice muffled against your smooth skin. She felt like an agonizing tease on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. "Yes, yes I do.." you gasped, your head spinning with lust and desperation.

Natasha's giggle sent shivers down your spine. With one final agonizing flick of her tongue, she granted you a reprieve, sending you spinning over the edge with devastating precision. “You can let go, Malysh.”

"Yes, fuck YES!" you screamed, arching your back as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over your body. Natasha continued to tease and probe, prolonging every last tremor until you were left breathless and limp in your bonds. You stand there, panting and shaking, enjoying the euphoria coursing through your veins.

Natasha stands up, her eyes dark with desire, and leans in to whisper in your ear. "You know what I mean, Detka? That was just a taste," Natasha murmurs, her lips brushing your earlobes. "I want to give you more, so much more. Will you let me?" You nod exhaustedly, your breath catching with every word Natasha speaks in your ear. You were helpless, tied up and at the mercy of this woman. You couldn't resist the lure of what Natasha was offering you. "Good girl," Natasha praised, her voice heavy with desire.

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[honeybelleee]

lines of us | p.js

req ( anon ) : how would sex with sub drunk!jay feel like

pairings - jay x fem!reader

genre - smut, drunk sex, exes to lovers(?), dom!y/n x sub!jay, pwp, slight fluff at the end

warnings - lower case intended, contains sexual themes do not interact if you are not 18+, semi-public sex, oral (m receiving), sex while straddling, piv, protected sex, sort of cockwarming, big dick! jay (my daddy fr)

1,157 wc! ( got carried away sorry )

( request r currently open for any genre! ) masterlist

jay’s night had become a haze of flashing lights and loud music, but no amount of drinks could blur the ache he felt since the last time he’d seen y/n. his friends kept trying to lift his spirits, telling him to let loose and move on, but with each drink, the memories of her seemed to intensify. the third breakup had been messy, leaving him in pieces, and though he’d sworn he wouldn’t come crawling back, he couldn’t help himself when he saw her at the bar.

she was laughing with her friends, looking effortlessly stunning, and completely out of his reach. he found himself standing next to her before he could even think it through, his heart pounding as he watched her turn to him, surprised yet amused.

“couldn’t stay away, could you?” y/n teased, arching an eyebrow as she took a slow sip of her drink.

jay swallowed hard, his words tumbling out in a soft, desperate confession. “i-it’s been horrible without you. i tried to get over you y/n, i swear, but i miss you. every night. it’s like you’re all i can think about.”

y/n tilted her head, a smirk forming on her lips. “oh really? i thought you’d be having the time of your life without me,” she teased, but there was a glint in her eyes, knowing full well the effect she had on him.

“you know that’s not true,” jay replied, his voice rough with longing. “it’s like nothing feels right without you. don’t you miss me? even a little?”

she leaned in, her eyes holding his as her fingers brushed lightly against his arm. “maybe i have missed you jay,” she murmured, her voice dripping with playful intent. “but i think you need a reminder of just how much you’re missing.”

jay’s breath hitched, his gaze locked on hers as his heart raced. “show me,” he whispered, the need in his voice clear.

they found an empty bathroom, a secluded haven where they could surrender to their desires. y/n pushed jay gently against the wall, his lips drunkenly crash onto hers with a hunger that had been building for weeks. their kiss was a storm of passion, tongues entwining as they devoured each other, tasting the sweetness of reunion.

y/n's hands roamed over jay's broad chest, feeling the muscles tense beneath her touch. she unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers deftly working their way down, revealing his taut, tanned skin. he groaned into her mouth as her hands explored further, stroking the growing bulge in his pants.

"god, i've missed this," he panted between kisses. "i’ve missed you."

y/n smiled against his lips, her hands now unzipping his pants, eager to free the throbbing hardness she could feel against her palm. his thick rigid cock sprang free, she sank to her knees, her hands wrapping around the base, admiring its length and girth. jay's breath caught in his throat as he watched y/n, his goddess, take control.

with a devilish glint in her eye, she leaned forward, her full lips parting to take him into her warm, wet mouth. she teased the tip of his cock with her tongue, swirling it around the sensitive head, making jay's body tremble with pleasure. her hands stroked the length of his cock in perfect rhythm with her mouth, creating a symphony of sensations that drove him wild.

"fuck y/n," he groaned, his hands threading through her hair, guiding her movements. "nobody does it like you."

she softly bit his tip in response “you better not let anyone go down on you, this cock belongs to me,” taking him deeper, her throat constricting around his cock, her skill evident in the way she handled his impressive size. jay's hips bucked involuntarily, thrusting into her mouth, seeking release. but y/n was a master of her craft, knowing exactly when to pull back, teasing him with the tip of her tongue, before taking him back into the wet heat of her mouth.

the bathroom echoed with the sounds of their pleasure, jay's moans and y/n's soft, satisfied sighs. she looked up at him through her long lashes, her eyes dark with desire, as she continued to pleasure him.

jay's body was on fire, his cock throbbing with the need to be inside her, but he wanted to savor this moment, prolong the exquisite torture.

breaking away from her mouth, he lifted y/n up, pressing her against the cold bathroom wall. her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her dress riding up to reveal her smooth, bare thighs. jay's eyes darkened at the sight of her, his hands sliding under her dress, finding the bare skin of her hips.

"i want you so bad," he pleaded, his voice raw with need. "please i need to be inside you."

with that, she straddled herself onto jay’s body, spreading her legs wide, exposing her glistening pussy. jay trembled while sliding his condom, his cock still hard and aching for release. he positioned himself between her legs, his hands on her knees, and guided his throbbing cock to her entrance. with one smooth thrust, he’s inside her, their bodies fitting together perfectly.

y/n moaned, her eyes fluttering open as she felt the fullness of him inside her. "almost forgot how this feels,"

he began moving himself desperately, his hips thrusting in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each stroke eliciting a praise from y/n's lips. her pussy clenched around him, taking in his cock as he plunge in and out of her depths, the sound of their bodies slapping together filled the bathroom.

"you feel so fucking good," jay grunted, his breath hot against her neck as he kissed and nipped at her sensitive skin. "i’ve dreamed of being inside you again."

y/n's hands explored his back, her nails digging into his skin as she urged him to go deeper, harder. their passion intensified with each thrust, their bodies slick with sweat and desire. jay's cock felt like steel, pounding into her, hitting all the right spots, sending her hurtling towards another climax.

"cum with me jay," she breathed out, her pussy tightening around him.

jay's control snapped at her words, and with a few powerful thrusts, he unleashed his own orgasm, his cock pulsating as he filled her with his hot seed. their cries of pleasure filled the small bathroom, their bodies convulsing in unison as they rode the waves of ecstasy.

as their hearts slowed and their breathing returned to normal, they remained locked in an embrace, seated on the toilet seat. jay’s cock still nestled inside y/n, their bodies sticky with sweat and cum. neither wanted to move, afraid that reality would intrude upon this stolen moment of passion.

"we can't keep doing this to ourselves," y/n whispered, her breath warm against his neck. "but I can't seem to stay away."

jay nodded, his lips finding hers in a tender kiss. "i know. we're like magnets, drawn together despite the chaos we create."

jay will miss u if u like/comment/reblog!

perm taglist - @ancnymcnzjy @june19190 @wiccangirl29

©honeybelleee on tumblr!

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 led by blind faith

pairing: harry potter x reader

warnings: smut, first time, ngl ending is rushed, use of y/n, fem reader lol sorry, p in v, unprotected sex oops, hand & blow job, first time writing smut…😭, somewhat jumps right into it, let me know if i missed anything

1.3k words ^_^

a/n: first time writing smut…so it’s not that good but the ending is cause it’s fluffy :3😭 also, false god lyrics as the titled we r cheered (i cant come up w titles so they’re always taylor inspired 🔥)

You and Harry were in your bedroom, after a few days of convincing him to come to yours during the holidays he had finally said yes.

It was 20 past 10, you were on top of him, kissing, the movie playing in the background long forgotten. Kissing was always the farthest thing you two have done, only dating for a few months.

But as the months have gone by, you have slowly been wanting more, more than kissing. nonetheless, you never brought it up to Harry afraid he would not want to go that far just few months into dating.

But now, you didn’t want to stop at just kissing, you wanted to go all the way. so now, here you were sitting on Harry’s lap, legs around his torso making out, few minutes in you started moving your hips, dry humping him.

“Mmm, Y/n, what’re you doing?” Harry said, catching his breath.

“do you want me to stop?” you said smirking knowing he probably wouldn’t want to stop, feeling him get hard beneath you.

“No, please don’t stop” Harry said whining, bringing you back into the kiss. His hands roamed your body, igniting every nerve with a tingling sensation. The soft sighs and gasps that escaped your lips mingled with the sound of heavy breathing, creating a symphony of desire.

Your movements became more urgent and rhythmic, each grind of your hips against his eliciting a low growl from Harry’s throat. The friction between your bodies sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, heightening every touch and kiss

Harry felt the tantalizing edge of release drawing near, his breaths shallow and ragged with anticipation. Just as he was on the brink, you abruptly halted, leaving him whining in frustration as the waves of pleasure ebbed away.

“Why’d you stop?” Harry’s voice cracked with need, his eyes pleading for the blissful sensation to continue a little longer.

You met his gaze with a mischievous smirk, relishing in the power you held over his pleasure. As Harry huffed in mild annoyance, your smirk deepened, knowing the effect your actions were having on him. With a deliberate movement, you peeled off your shirt, revealing a sight that made Harry’s annoyance evaporate into thin air.

Harry’s eyes widened in awe as he took in the sight before him, his breath hitching at the sudden rush of desire that engulfed him. The soft glow of the room cast a tantalizing sheen over your exposed skin, accentuating every curve and contour in a way that left Harry spellbound.

Without a word, Harry reached out, his fingertips tracing the outline of your bare shoulders, a silent plea for permission and affirmation. You met his touch with a subtle arch of your back, inviting him closer, igniting a primal hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface.

The air crackled with electricity as Harry’s lips found yours once again, a fervent urgency driving their movements. Every kiss was a symphony of longing and exploration, each touch a declaration of unspoken desires.

With trembling hands, Harry continued to explore the canvas of your skin, his touch tentative yet eager, as if afraid to break the spell that bound you together. But there was no turning back now, the floodgates of passion had been opened, and both of you were swept away in the torrent of raw, unbridled need.

Soon enough, you found yourself laying on your stomach, in between Harry’s legs. His pants off and left in his boxers, palming his hard on through them.

After a few seconds, you took his boxers off, his cock now in your hands, dragging your fist up and down. Loving how Harry was reacting, seeing him like this made your panties wet, embarrassingly wet.

“Please, use your mouth,” you hesitate for a moment before taking him into your mouth, exploring the length of his cock with your tongue.

His hands finding their way to your hair, pulling at it when wants you to go deeper.

"Oh fuck yes...", he moans, biting his lower lip. His cock throbs against your tongue, wanting more attention as he leans against your bed frame for support.

You take him deeper into your mouth, sucking gently on the head while your hand strokes the rest in time with your bobbing actions. “Mmm, just like that, baby...", he pants, his hips starting to move in rhythm with your mouth.

Harry’s grip in your hair tightens more, jerking his hips foward. "Please keep going... I'm close," he whines, his voice strained. "Don't stop now."

You keep going, taking him deeper into your mouth. The thought of making him cum making you eager.

Harry’s breathing is ragged now, his body trembling of pleasure. "I'm gonna cum princess...," he warns, his voice rough from need.

He groans, his hips jerking forward as he empties himself into your mouth. His hot cum fills you up, causing you to gag a little bit as he fills your mouth up, you swallow it and pull your mouth off his still hard cock, you sit up slowly.

Harry grabs your waist and pushes you down onto the bed, your legs now wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck. He takes off your sleep shorts and moves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening pussy.

“You’re so soaked sweetheart..” He whispers, sliding two fingers in you making you moan his name. He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slowly before taking his fingers out and putting them into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

He loved the sight of you in nothing but your panties, laying underneath him, everything about you would be just so perfect to him, it makes his stomach flutter.

“I need more, Harry, need you inside me” you panted softly, rocking your hips against his hand.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he laughed breathily,

rolling his hips against you again, coating his cock in your already leaking juices before catching on your entrance and achingly slowly sinking into your plush walls and making you arch your back.

“I love you,” he murmured against your neck feeling your wall already fluttering around him. Pulling himself almost completely free of you but thrusts back into you lazily, setting a slow but steady pace that was driving you crazy with each stroke. “I love you so much.”

“Harry, I love you too,” you almost sobbed as your climax washed over you your walls clenching around him tightly.

“I love you more” He grinned, he gives a few more thrusts before allowing himself to fall over the edge and fill you with his warm seed.

In the quiet aftermath, a serene calm settled over the room, punctuated only by the soft sounds of your synchronized breathing. Harry’s arms wrapped protectively around you, his touch gentle and reassuring as he traced soothing circles along your back.

With whispered words of affection and reassurance, you both savored the intimacy of the moment, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. The tenderness in Harry’s gaze spoke volumes, a silent promise of care and understanding that transcended words.

As the world outside remained oblivious to the shared intimacy you had just experienced, you found solace in the cocoon of love and trust that surrounded you both. Harry’s fingers trailed lazily through your hair, his touch a soothing melody that lulled you into a state of contentment.

In that sacred space of aftercare, boundaries dissolved, and vulnerabilities were embraced. The unspoken bond between you deepened, strengthened by the shared vulnerability and tenderness of the moment.

Together, you reveled in the simple yet profound act of caring for each other, finding solace and comfort in the gentle aftermath of passion. It was in these moments of intimacy and aftercare that the true essence of your connection blossomed, a testament to the depth of your love and the unspoken emotions that bound you together.

[iiwaijime]

yours — m. fushiguro

cws; gn?reader, no y/n, minimal dialogue, soft!megumi, not proofread, probably cringe too. fluff!!!

wc; 555

nothing special, just megumi — and somehow that's even better.

MEGUMI'S arms are wrapped loosely around your waist, face buried in your neck as the two of you sway gently to the soft music. his body curves to accommodate yours, and your own arms are around his neck. the only source of light in your darkened living room is from outside; the few streams cause the scene to be dappled with a soft glow. outside, it's raining, the sound intermingling with the music to create a soothing symphony.

his lashes tickle your neck when he opens his eyes, and he sighs softly against you before raising his head.

"what's up?" you question. the movement and change in position isn't something you're too ecstatic about, but seeing your boyfriend's face lit up so ethereally as he gazes down at you suddenly makes it all worth it. he blinks; long lashes droop over dark blue eyes, the tip of his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he looks away from you, flushing.

"nothing, i just— i love you very much." his voice is hoarse from disuse, and he winces as it cracks slightly.

your hands leave his shoulders and the back of his neck in favour of covering his hands, where they're resting comfortably at your hips now. "i love you too, megumi, very much, and then some more."

he glows, glows at your words, then leans down to kiss you. it's soft and sweet and calming, like the rain and darkness around you. your hand slips into his; by now, it's almost second nature to you, and you don't even have to think to do it. the thumb of his free hand presses lightly against your chin as he kisses you a second time, taking a half-step closer to you. the proximity is comforting, a shared warmth that'll keep you safe forever. his icy fingers brush against your skin, just under the hem of your shirt — even as your hands are interlinked — and you shiver at the sudden cold of his touch, flinching away before he pulls you back into him.

"don't leave," he pleads; it's a soft whine, a complete opposite of his external self. it makes you happy, to know that he's comfortable enough to let go of his normal personality around you. it makes you smile.

"i'm not," you assure him, and his smile mirrors your own, radiant and unreal, something more befitting of a godling or an angel's spawn. you cannot believe that your megumi is human, and that he's yours.

megumi steers you both towards his bedroom, walking you backwards carefully. he sits you down gently on the bed, pausing to swiftly pull off his sweater. the mattress dips down under his weight as he joins you on it, the two of you scrambling to get under the sheets immediately, a tangle of clothes and limbs and love.

his arms wrap around your waist again, face pressed into your hair as you slot yourself into him. it's like the two of you were made for each other; he has never seen anything or anyone fit together this perfectly before. it's a comforting thought; him and you, two puzzle pieces that will always click. his lips curve up slowly, still pressed against the back of your head, and feeling him smile, you grin too, even though he doesn't see it.

jjk writer era may make a comeback. this came to me in a dream and i hate myself for it. requests r open ig.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

I love your writing am and i always seem to go back to your sally face fic and i would love something similar to that but with sally and i would love to see if you could incorporate substance use (ex. weed) not to a dangerous extent but almost seen as inviting. with ftm reader again! ofcs you can take this request and do what you like with it!! i just love your writing sm and i want to see more sally face content:)

❝ If you think I’m pretty put your hands on me, know I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it ❞

Sal Fisher x ftm!reader | fluffy, NSFW, slight angst | reader has had top-surgery & bottom growth | vers. bttm. reader | NOT PROOFREAD + written on phone | wc: 4K

warnings: recreational use of marijuana, some guilt from Sal because he vowed not to smoke as a child but r! reassures him, Sal mentions painkiller addictions, mentions of hospitals and wounds, mentions of scarring, shotgun kisses, handjobs, fingering, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick/cock)

masterlist ; "I was the boy who was on your side"

authors note: I FORGOT TO FILL THIS UHM UHHH IM BACK?

*song on repeat: Romeo by Until The Ribbon Breaks

He's been drumming his fingers across his knees for a full 20 minutes now. A never-ending symphony of thumps occasionally disturbed by pauses of silence as he picked at the ripped edges of his jeans. You suppose you understand the anxiety that was racking through him, despite the reassurances you'd given him, he was bound to have some second thoughts. "Hey, baby," you tap the steering wheel, an elbow propped onto your window sill panel. Despite your eyes being glued on the road, you're acutely aware of his gaze on yours.

"Ya' didn't have to come along if you didn't want to," at your words he shakes his head. "No — Sorry, I didn't mean to come off that way, baby." Sal reaches out and places a hand on your knee, squeezing it just enough to have you decompressing your nerves.

"No, no. I didn't mean to make you feel bad," you clasp his hand and squeeze him back, the road will be fairly emptier now that you've driven past the bridge. "You just look a little nervous is all, I was jokin' 'bout you needing to follow along. I was just teasing you, Sal." "I know. I wanted to spend time with you, (Y/N). Which is why I followed along even though I knew you were just fucking with me," he sighs, allowing the song playing on the radio to filter in the silence for a few seconds. "It's just, buying drugs, makes me a liiittle nervous."

A chuckle escapes you and you risk staring at Sal for a bit. "You've dealt with poltergeists and the like, the baloney incident, and buying a little ganja is making you sweat?"

“Shut up,” he groans as he slips his hand up and lands a muted smack on your thighs. “Poltergeists can land me in a psychiatrist's office, this could land us in jail.”

“At least we’ll be together in a small cell,” you coo and Sal rolls his eye with a scoff. “We’re not gonna get caught, ya’ big baby. I’ve done this a thousand times with Larry, Todd, and Ashley — we’ll be fine. Promise.”

It went more than fine. Underwhelming actually. He had expected a more intense, whispered, exchanges with some weirdly firm handshake while the other dude slipped you the weed. He had even lifted the hood of his hoodie up to make the both of you less identifiable. It was adorable.

Your dealer had come down from their apartment. Sal seeing her brightly coloured pink tie-dye sweatpants from the slat of the stairs, and the cheerful wave she gave you once she took notice of your car.

“Was wondering when you’d text. I got your favourite.”

She’s leaned on your rolled-down windows, discretely holding the pink paper bag of weed in front of her chest and bouncing it around. She extends her other hand first, and Sal is silent as you reach for the cash from the cup holder.

In that pause of conversation, she takes notice of him and recognition is crystal clear.

“O-M-G, is that Sal, the boyfriend?” You chuckle while Sal stutters in surprise. Handing her the cash, she graciously exchanges it with the bag.

“Yeah, he’s following along with me running errands.” “Cute,” she coos. After a few pleasantries, she leans away. That small pink paper bag between your legs barely able to distract your boyfriend from her excited wave of goodbye — that you return obviously.

“You talk about me with her?” you glance at him for a second then laugh. “Dude, most of us get our weed from her. She eventually gets to know the side characters in our lives the longer she interacts with us.”

He scoffs, crossing his arm as he leans back in the seat.

“Side characters? Seriously?” “Duh,” you pick the bag up and shake it in his face teasingly. “Everyone knows the main characters participate in drug culture and the side characters don’t.”

“This is the peer pressure my father warned me about.”

You giggled at his joke as you place the bag between your thighs again. This time, Sal’s eyes follows it.

He’s seen you and Larry smoke before. Hell, most of his friends smoke on the back porch while he’ll be mindlessly cleaning up as he waits for all of you to herd back inside. He’s never felt left out, you guys were simply respecting his wishes is all. He wasn’t much of a fan of drinking or smoking. But he wouldn't stop anyone from doing it, as long as no one got too inebriated.

Though, for some reason, he just can’t take his eyes away from that pink bag.

“Mhm, next thing you know, you’ll look like those anti-bullying posters. All the stoners will point and laugh while you have big ole’ sad cat eyes.”

The imagery makes him laugh softly and he glances at your face as the scenery zooms past beside you.

When you reach home, the house is empty. A note was left on the kitchen fridge by Todd, something about him and his boyfriend going on a date.

Just you, Sal and Gizmo.

It makes his palms clammy and his nerves turning up his sensitivity a few notches.

You greeted Gizmo with a few chin scratches. Settling on the living room couch with crossed legs, you open the bag one handedly while you lean over to the catch-all bowl on the coffee table for the lighter and your MP3 player.

All the while, he stands in the kitchen threshold. Like a kid who knows they’ve done something they’re definitely shouldn’t have done — the guilt was just radiating from him. It made you toss your head to the side when you took notice of him, a joint hung loosely between your lips.

“You good, baby?”

He nods, your words setting him into motion as he sits on the couch.

“I’m not gonna smoke inside,” you reassure with a smile. Why else would he stare at you like that, right?

He nods again. Oddly quiet. Gizmo yawns and sinks further down onto the couch, watching the TV show with an almost human-like concentration. Nobody says anything about it anymore. He’s just a little guy, really.

You lean over, joint plucked out and resting between the second knuckle of your pointer and middle finger this time, and give his cheek a kiss.

“See you in a bit.”

He watches like he always does. There’s nothing to clean. It’d be weirder if he attempted to look busy. So he glances at the TV, then at Gizmo and then at your back as you sit down on the porch. He can hear the muffled sounds of you flicking the lighter, and shortly after he sees the white smoke that slithers upwards into the air along with the sounds of your favourite band quietly playing.

You thought you hadn’t closed the sliding doors properly when you hear the approaching footsteps. Turning your head to check, you’re surprised to spot Sal walk through the doors to move and settle next to you.

You cough out some smoke. Attempting to fan it away with your hand while you reach to put out the joint in the ash tray that Ashley had made. But Sal stops you as he knocks your knees together, his thigh pressing against yours as he peers at you.

“Sal?”

“...Say hypothethically, a side character wants to dip his toes in some drug culture." Your eyes widen considerably at his confession.

“Huh?” you squeak out. Sal sighs, regret creeping up on him as he scratches the back of his head. The smell of the weed doesn’t exactly help either — it was so distinct.

“Wait, no, sorry. I’m just, this isn’t because of peer pressure is it?” You did mini-hops, getting close enough to him for your thighs to press together. Yet you still held the clay ash tray an arms length away, especially as you note the sharp inhale and exhale he'd made.

Sal’s deadpanned expression makes your eyebrows jump.

“This was dumb,” He admits. “No — no, it isn’t. I was just caught off-guard. Are you...curious?”

Sal nods sheepishly. You lean back on the heel of your hand, the other still holding onto the tray, your finger mindlessly keeping the still-lit joint perched between your digit and the rim of the tray. You think for a moment, then huff in amusement.

“Damn, you still manage to surprise me even after all these years.”

“You’re making it sound like we’ve been married for 50 years,” he retorts. “We will be, I’m just practicing these phrases out loud so you don’t get heart failure in the future.”

This time, Sal’s shoulders shake as he laughs. It dies down as he sees you take a drag, and breathe out the plumes of smoke. Not directly at him, but in his general direction. The smell isn’t something he’s used to. Not this close anyways. Usually, it’s just stuck on your clothes but you reach for the bottle of Febreze strategically placed near the sliding doors anyway so it's more muted.

It. . .doesn’t completely suck. The earthiness of it making his shoulders less tense. You watch his reaction closely, the corners of your lips in a gentle curve as he leans back onto his hands.

You take another drag and Sal’s enraptured at the way the end of your joint glows bright orange. He feels almost envious of the way you swallow the smoke, how you harbour it within your mouth before it slips past your lips. You’re looking at him, just basking in the moment for a little longer before you ask him to play your favourite songs.

It was just beginning to get dark, the sky was setting up for its finale of the day and he was enraptured as you explain what shotgun kisses were.

"I have smoked a cigarette before," he says, brows furrowed as he unbuckles his prosthetic. "Yeah, and nearly coughed up both of your lungs. This will be smoother for you, trust me."

"So I just inhale what you exhale?" "Mhm, easy as pie, right?"

His placed his prosthetic next to him, turning his head and immediately seeing your face invading his vision. "Hi," he smiled at your attempt to keep your smile at bay by chewing on your lower lip.

"Hi," he replies, his anxiety lessening at the sight of your confidence and giddiness. You bring the joint to your lips. He can hear the paper burning and sees tendrils of smoke escaping through your lips. Your words echoed in his brain as you lean in further.

“Just breathe it in slowly, baby."

He feels the smoke across his face, your lips pouted as you blow it his way. Sal breathes it in, sucking the smoke in just like you’d demonstrated earlier. He coughs like you said he would. His eye-watering as he moves to sit and you carefully pat his back as he does.

“Shit,” your eyes squish at his flustered expression. His first time trying a cigarette playing briefly through your head. Though this time it wasn’t even half-bad.

“You did great. Didn't burn on the way down if you smoked it yourself, right?” he got what you meant. He was coughing but he didn't feel like the back of his throat got thwacked by a whip of burning paper and tobacco. The ride was smoother, way smoother with your help. “It feels like the smell is stuck onto my teeth." Sal only complains to see you look at him with that fond gaze. You took another drag as he smacks his lips a few times. Your eyes flutter close, sighing in relief, and tossing your head to the side as you feel yourself loosening up.

“Why do you think I always brush my teeth before I kiss you?”

Sal protests softly as you take another hit and you laugh as he leans in.

“Isn’t that too much — “

You breathe out and Sal seems stunned for a moment, so you apologize but he simply leans in further.

“If this'll be my first time getting high, I want it to be with you.”

"Slow down, baby," you bumped your foreheads together, cupping his jaw in your hand. "What's the rush, hm?"

Curiousity was a valid enough reason to start smoking, but your Sal wasn't the kind of guy to jump into these things head first. It wasn't anything special to him, all of your friends smoked and drunk. He wasn't some pre-teen being excited to finally "grow up" and get in with the cool kids.

Hell, even during his 21st birthday, he'd taken his first drink and smoked his cigarette and decided that he didn't enjoy any of them.

Sal sighs, dropping his weight on you. His head balanced between the curve of your neck and shoulder. You simply thread your fingers through his hair, combing out the indents of his buckles and straps from his hair.

"You think I can't take it?"

"Oh, I definitely know you can't."

He protests with an indignant but whiny 'hey' but settles. His arms wrap around your waist and despite the uncomfortable angle of your torso facing him while your legs faced ahead as they rested on the stairs, you stay like that for a bit.

He eventually pulls away and leans back onto his arms again, reaching for his prosthetic though only to fidget with it on his lap.

"...Is it bad I feel bad? Not physically, just...morally?"

Your silence urges him on. So he continues; “Drinking fucking sucks, and cigarettes don’t make sense to me. But weed as a concept always seemed...appealing to me.”

He feels your chin on his shoulder and he subtly breathes in the smoke that teases him as you exhale.

“But?”

“Argh, it’s stupid. But as a kid, in the hospital there weren’t a lot of people that got as messed up as I did. But the ones that were? Christ, babe, they were in so much pain. Even when the wounds were already scars.”

Your brows pinch. You squeeze his hand and he stops toying with feeling the shape of the bolts to instead gently press the pads of his thumb over your nails.

“The doctors scared me with the whole speech. Painkillers being addictive and all that, it made me scared to ask for ‘em even when the skin grafts felt like they were on fucking fire.”

He shuts his eyes and brings your hand to his face, the pressure and warmth across his jaw and cheek making the phantom pains ebb to nothing.

“I made a promise to my younger me that I would never end up like the adults I saw. I just, don’t want to be in constant pain.”

“You aren’t, Sal. And you won’t be.”

You put out the joint, turning his face to you and planting a kiss on his lips. He breathes out a sigh of relief through his nose and you tilt your head to deepen it. When you pull away, you both linger in the afterglow of it for a second.

“I’m here for you, Sal. If you ever stray from the path, I’m here to guide you back, right? You’ve got me and Larry, Lisa and your dad, Ashley, Todd, Gizmo —” his smile widens as you go on about the precious people in his life.

“Thanks,” he kisses you again and you happily reciprocate.

“By the way, you’re right, you should always brush your teeth before you kiss me when you’re done smoking up.”

Sal laughs as you shove him back, watching admiringly while you light the joint up again.

“...Can I have another hit?”

“You just said my breath smells like ass —”

“You’re overreacting!”

By the time the two of you walk back inside, Gizmo’s nose is twitching. You hadn’t taken too much too be completely useless, just to start feeling that buzz and take the edge off. Sal had expected more of a droopy, drowsy, feeling when he entered the house.

He still feels like himself. A little light on his feet, but still himself. You had paced him from his little smoke-sucking sessions — teasing that he just wanted to kiss you which wasn’t entirely untrue. But you always pulled away just as his eyes would flutter. Most likely you getting back at home for saying your breath smelled like weed. Little tease.

You spray your clothes down, then ask Sal if he’d like to chill on the couch. Something in his brain perks up hard enough to make his penis do the same. He feels a bit shameful of it, but then again, everything you do could make him hard.

The other day you’d been wolfing down some cheesy fries with Ashley and somehow it made Sal have to think of baloney to shut his penis down.

Gizmo’s tail flicks knowingly as Sal sits at the end of the couch, which was his cue to set off to the basement instead. When Sal hears the TV turns on from there, he simply decides to never question how dexterous Gizmo's thumbs were.

You're laid out on the couch with your tummy showing and your eyes just a bit hazy. He knows weed affects people differently; why does it make his lust for you feel so thick? Like cloying, thick, honey dripping down from the back of his throat. Fuelling him in an unfamiliar, alien, way. He climbs over you and the half-lidded gaze you look up at him with makes his mouth feel drier than it is.

This lust is new. It’s more languid in it’s desire — akin to a beast stretching its back only to flop down to its side and show its belly. Still undeniably dangerous, yet so inviting with its soft underbelly and demure paws.

You seem to recognize this beast, lips stretching into a toothy grin.

“Need something handsome?”

He narrows his eyes at you. Then, he places a hand on your chest, fingers brushing along your collarbones before it slowy slips downwards.

“...I really wanna finger you.”

He seems to catch himself. Through that haze that makes him caught between wanting to curl up next to you for a nap or fucking you nice and slow, he finds the part of him that remembers embarrassment.

But before it could throw away his new lazy bravado, you surge up to kiss him, moaning the second your lips made contact.

Stoned Sal decides pants are way too annoying very quickly on. He huffs and puffs at the obstacles that are called buttons and zippers. When he finally undoes them, he pulls your jeans below the swell of your ass and brings the heel of his hand to your clothed cock.

The pressure has your teeth brushing over your lips.

“I love your dick,” he murmurs, “it’s just s’fuckin’ pretty.”

You moan airily, wishing he’d pull your pants all the way down but he is just too entraced at the sight of the wet spots he’s seeing. He traces the fold of your cunt and your breath hitches as he presses a finger through. Not enough to be inside of you, but enough to have your dick twitch.

He brings his thumb to rub against it and you groan.

“Let me take my jeans off, Christ, Sal.”

He chuckles, suddenly abandoning your pussy to pin your hips down. “Barely touched you and you already wanna spread your legs f’me?”

You glare at him, feeling your cheeks heat up as you hitch yourself up onto the couch and stubbornly shimmying out of your pants. He simply watches, uncaring of the less-than-delicate display. You toss your jean away and your underwear follows along, piling onto the floor somewhere.

“The weed is making you so chatty, hm?” you don’t get much out of you after that as Sal immediately claims your lips again. He doesn’t even wait for you to lay back down as he brings his hand between your legs.

Not exactly hasty but not taking his time either. He pulls away enough that the spit between your lips break, but you can still feel him groan when he feels the dewdrops of moisture on your cunt; the slick that coats his finger makes him whisper your name.

“So wet,” he marvels. Your legs twitch at his movements. Sliding up and down, pressing in just to make your breath hitch but never fully slipping inside.

Oh fuck.

Stoned Sal likes to tease.

Your dread is shortlived as he descends his kisses to your neck. You groan, clutching onto the back of his shirt as he mottles your neck with unapologetically languid kisses.

You’re whimpering underneath him as he hums and groans. Using his teeth and making hickey after hickey, dark and tender — he’d even brush his teeth along them just to hear you gasp.

Meanwhile, he continues to torture your poor cunt. Bringing his thumb into the fray again as he rubs circles on the tip of your cock. The tip of his fingers spreading your slick around your lips, making it messier and messier.

“Sal, please just fuckin’ finger me already,” you whine out. Turning your head away and arching your back as he sets his eyes on your nipples.

“I’m already — Shit, Sal. I’m already so hard.”

He knows. You don’t have to remind him.

“Don’t make me beg, baby, please.”

Sal bites down on your nipple just as he pushes his finger inside of you. He groans at the feeling of your boypussy clamping down. Fuck, you felt good.

So soft and warm and wet and tight.

He slips another finger in and neither of you are surprised at how eagerly your cunt lets it in.

Sal’s lips pause in their conquest as he looks down between your legs. Fuck, what a sight it was. The happy trail you have that always makes his cock jump in his pants — there it goes again — and that beautiful dick that he always loves choking on to that boypussy that he’s convinced is made for him.

He starts pumping his fingers. In and out in a steady rhythm. Adoring every noise that comes out of you. You take them well, all the way down to the base and when he angles his palm just right your hips buck to grind your cock against his hand.

Fuck, you were perfect.

He kisses you. Breathing through his nose as he bites down on your already swollen lower lip — relishing in this. In you.

He adds another finger and you mewl. It makes him laugh.

You were usually much more headstrong. When he teases, you tease back. The weed is working in his favour, you were so pliant. Melting under him and already close to your first orgasm.

When he curls his fingers, you toss your head back, mouth opening in a silent scream. Your hand dives between your legs to rub your cock and Sal watches your face as you jeek yourself off.

“Just like that, just like that — Oh, oh—ah! Fuck!”

He doesn’t falter his pace, moaning out curses as you clamp down around his fingers.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum for me.”

His voice undoes you.

You buck your hips as wetness covers his hand. He groans, praising you as he continues to pump in and out. You let him, simply curling your toes and panting as you just kept on cumming and cumming.

When he kisses you this time, he doesn’t even let you breathe. Just swallowing your noises as he finger-fucks you through your orgasm and makes you barrel to your second with no breaks.

You clutch at his shirt, feeling lightheaded but unwilling to ask him to stop.

“Keep going, Sal. Please, please.”

How could he say no?

[mononijikayu]

i wanna be your slave — ryomen sukuna.

In this intimate cocoon, where every sensation was heightened and every touch was electric, you and Sukuna were locked in a world of your own making. The heat and arousal created an environment of pure, unfiltered mess and desire, the outside world nothing more than a distant memory. Sukuna's breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in, his voice a deep, commanding murmur. “Forget what they told you, hm?” he said, his tone laced with a dark, seductive edge. “All those warnings, all those fears—they mean nothing here.”

Genre: Alternate Universe — Canon Convergence

Warning/s: Alternate Universe, NSFW, Concubine! Reader, Heian! Trueform Sukuna, R-18, Pure Smut, Explicit Sex, Roughness, Unprotected Sex, P on V Sex, Double Penetration, Pet Names, Praising, Patronizing Insults, Teasing, Breeding, Size Differences, Overstimulation, Creampie, Possessiveness, Profanity, Mentions of Body Parts, Mention of Explicit Sexual Acts, Mention of Breeding, Mention of Rough Acts, Reader Is Trying to Survive Sukuna, Sukuna's Obssessed As Hell;

Words: 3.2k words.

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 800;

note: i don't know if i wrote this very well but this was really something that i took a time to write this because i kept imagining how the positions would work in my head. also sukuna really is hot guys like heian sukuna does things to me??? ashes of love really should have been this too ngl??? anyway, i hope you all enjoy this!!! i love you all!! see you on the satoru reincarnation series <3

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YOU ALWAYS SURRENDERED TO SUKUNA FAST. The room was saturated with a heady blend of heat and arousal, the atmosphere almost palpable in its intensity. The air was dense, carrying the weight of your shared desire as it mingled with the primal, rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin. Each slap of Sukuna’s hips against yours echoed with a visceral, urgent rhythm that seemed to reverberate through every corner of the room.

The walls themselves felt like they were closing in, drawn tighter by the charged energy of the moment. The temperature seemed to rise with every movement, the warmth of your bodies pressed together creating a cocoon of intimacy and passion. This charged environment only intensified the connection between you and Sukuna, making every touch and thrust feel magnified.

Every motion between you two seemed to magnify the electric tension that hung in the air. As Sukuna’s body moved against yours, each shift and thrust was a testament to the raw, unfiltered power he exerted. His control over the situation was palpable, a tangible force that heightened the pleasure and surrender coursing through you. 

The rhythmic clash of your bodies was both relentless and hypnotic, a primal dance of domination and submission. The sound of your breaths mingling with the rhythmic pounding was music to your lord’s ear, that was both exhilarating and overwhelming. Each stroke and shift in position was like a perfect note in a symphony of desire, amplifying the intensity and pushing deeper.

The heat in the room grew almost unbearable, not just from the physical exertion but from the charged atmosphere created by your shared passion. It was a space where every subtle movement, every whispered breath, and every touch was amplified, magnifying the depth of your connection. The air was thick with anticipation, each moment stretching out as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable crescendo.

In this intimate cocoon, where every sensation was heightened and every touch was electric, you and Sukuna were locked in a world of your own making. The heat and arousal created an environment of pure, unfiltered mess and desire, the outside world nothing more than a distant memory.

Sukuna's breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in, his voice a deep, commanding murmur. “Forget what they told you, hm?” he said, his tone laced with a dark, seductive edge. “All those warnings, all those fears—they mean nothing here.”

You gasped, the sound swallowed by the intensity of his thrusts. Your body responded to him with a desperate need, and you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “I don’t care about them, my lord.” you breathed out, your voice trembling with both pleasure and conviction. “I want it to be good. I want it hard. Only you can give it to me.”

A satisfied smirk curled on Sukuna’s lips, his eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of pride and desire. “You know that’s right, hm?” he growled, his voice rough with arousal. “No one else can touch you like this, no one else can make you feel what I do.”

His words were a taunt and a promise, each thrust a reminder of the exclusive, raw connection between you. “You need this, don’t you?” he continued, his voice low and seductive. “You need me to push you, to make you feel every inch of me.”

You moaned in response, your body arching to meet his forceful movements. “Yes, my lord!” you gasped, your voice barely audible over the sound of your shared passion. “I need you. Only you can—”

“Only I can do what? Huh, little one?” Sukuna interrupted, his tone sharp and commanding. “My lord, huh? I am your only one. The only lord that can make you come undone, make you beg for more?”

“Uh—uh, yes!” you cried out, your voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. “Only you can make me lose control, make me feel this way.”

His grin widened, a dark satisfaction reflected in his eyes. “Good little girl..” he murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper. “Because I plan to make sure you never forget just how right it feels with me. I’ll push you, make you crave every moment of this.”

You could feel the way Sukuna’s hips moved with a relentless, rhythmic pounding, each thrust a masterful display of control and power. His smirk, a wicked and triumphant curve of his lips, spoke volumes about his dominance and satisfaction. It was clear that he reveled in the way he made you shiver and quake beneath him, finding pleasure in both the physical and emotional control he wielded. He liked power. You’ve always known that. You always knew that he was too good at it. And he liked it.

He alternated between the two with a deliberate precision, his cocks switching in and out of you with a calculated force. You could feel tears piercing through your eyes, one after another. He was hitting hard, he always has. Each motion was both punishing and exhilarating, a dance of dominance and submission that left you breathless and yearning for more. The friction between you was electric, building with every thrust until your body could no longer contain the overwhelming surge of pleasure.

As your lord Sukuna fucked you hard and fast, his movements were driven by a primal need to own you, to punish you, to pleasure you. You could feel everything. It’s the way one cock after the other pressed and stretched you with every thrust made your body quiver uncontrollably. You could feel your nerves, like they were on fire, each touch and penetration igniting a chain reaction of pleasure that coursed through you with relentless intensity.

You were reduced to nothing when it comes to him. And you liked it. When he picks you in the room, out of all those witless lines of girls, you always feel like you were the chosen one. Each night felt like you were being cleansed. He was your devil, giving your redemption. Looking to be cleaned by the mess he gives you. And you never complained like all those girls did. You took it. You loved it. You worshiped it, his pleasure. 

Every inch of your body can only come alive with the sensation of your lord Sukuna’s cocks inside of you, overtaking you whole. Your eyes rolled back intensely as the sound of his hips meeting yours was a relentless thunderstrike, driving you closer and closer to the brink of completion. The more it hurt, the more it raged inside of you, the more your moans and gasps filled the room. Sukuna thinks that you create such a beautiful symphony of pleasure for him. With each surrender too, it can only ever become even sweeter. 

The sensation of his cocks bullying deeper and deeper one after another into you was a blend of pain and pleasure, each thrust pushing you further into a state of complete submission. If anyone were to watch it, they would be sickened by it. To see such a lady be ravaged like she was a prey of some monster. But you didn’t care. You would think anyone watching would be too dead to give any opinion either. 

His large hands gripped onto you tighter. You could feel the way your skin was slick with sweat, your body trembling under the sheer force of his dominance. You were exhausted to be sure, but you would never say that. Nor would you say that the  friction was almost too much to bear. You wanted to make your lord feel good. You wanted to make yourself feel good too. This was exactly what you craved, this animalistic raw, unfiltered desire that surged between you cannot be stopped. Not when he has awakened it in you.

The more time went on and continued, the more the world outside ceased to exist. All that was left was reduced to the intimate space between you two, where his dominance and your submission were the only things that mattered. Your lips parted, loud mewls and cries escaping as he bullied his thick cocks impossibly deeper inside you. You wondered at times if there was even space for his cocks to go deeper into you. But you don’t think nothingness will stop him. Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, the intensity overwhelming your senses.

“My poor little thing.” he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance. “I thought you liked this sort of thing? I thought you liked being my beauty, hm? Thought you liked how I could be a monster to you, with these cocks?”

“I–I…I do!” you moaned shakily, drool falling off your lips as your legs trembled as he switched fully to the other cock, the one you swore was even larger, stretching you to your limits. “‘I–I do! M–my lord….please….”

“Feeling me good down there, huh?” he teased, his voice a low growl that reverberated through you. “You could feel it well, how it swells inside you, hm?”

Sukuna hammered into you with an unrelenting rhythm, his movements taking on a relentless and demanding pace that left no room for respite. Each thrust hurt, it was a reminder. A powerful assertion of no one else but him could have shown. He was a force that drove deep into you with a precision that made your entire body quiver. The intensity of his movements was almost blinding, the world outside fading into insignificance as the sensation of him inside you became the only reality.

His cocks, thick and veined, always pushed against your walls with an almost brutal insistence. Your pussy struggled to accommodate his girth, the friction building with every deep, forceful thrust. His cock’s relentless pounding created a delicious stretch that had your walls clenching and tightening around him, trying desperately to adjust to his size. The sensation of being so fully and thoroughly filled was dizzying, sending waves of pleasure and overstimulation that pushed you closer to the edge with each passing moment.

Sukuna’s hands were firm and unyielding as they gripped your hips, the pressure of his fingers bruising against your flesh. The way he held you, forcing you to remain in place, accentuated the feeling of being completely at his mercy. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours with an almost predatory gaze. There was a challenge in his look, daring you to endure, to keep up with the relentless pace he set. He wanted you to take everything he had to give, and the sheer force of his gaze made it clear that he expected nothing less.

Your body responded instinctively to his relentless assault, meeting his movements with a desperate fervor that bordered on madness. Every thrust seemed to ignite a new level of pleasure within you, pushing you further toward the brink of ecstasy. The rhythm of his pounding was relentless, a ceaseless drive that had you gasping and moaning in time with each forceful push.

Your mind was a haze of pleasure, every sensation magnified to an almost unbearable intensity. The way Sukuna’s cocks moved inside you one after another, the way his hands held you in place, and the look of determination in his eyes combined to create a torrent of feelings that left you teetering on the edge of release. You clung to him, your body arching and writhing beneath him, driven by a primal need to meet his dominance with an equally fierce submission.

The four walls of this room seemed to spin around you over and over, and you surrendered completely to the overwhelming tide of pleasure, lost in the sensation of lord Sukuna’s dominance and the exquisite pain and pleasure he brought with every thrust. In his arms, you were both undone and complete, your world reduced to the here and now, to the heat and power of Ryomen Sukuna’s touch.

Sukuna’s pace never faltered as he drove into you with relentless intensity, your body arching under his expert touch. His dark red eyes were dark with desire, a mix of possession and something deeper that flickered within their depths. He knows he owns you, and yet somehow — he still wants more of you. He still craves to own you. Over and over, each night he asks for your presence, to take you over and over. He still wants more. He still has the greed, the hunger to want more.

“You are my precious little one, hm? I cannot let anyone find you like this. Your lord is too jealous.” Sukuna growled, his voice rough with emotion as he watched you writhe beneath him. Each word was punctuated by a powerful thrust, sending a shiver of pleasure through you. “He does not like his little one getting looked at, hm? Only he can do that, don’t you agree?”

If a servant was out there, you knew that all they'd hear was your gasps and the sound of Sukuna’s hips slamming against you. But you doubt they would be allowed to live. No one was allowed to even be near this room when Sukuna took his rights with you. He wants it to only be him. He has always made it clear — you belonged to him. No one else. 

You groaned as you pulled at his massive arms, trying to catch some levity. But as he changed the position slightly, to get deeper into you — you lose any relief.  His massive hands moved to your thighs, pulling you closer, deeper, as if he could never get enough. You could feel it, your eyes were closing soon. You were passing out from exhaustion. He snickers.

“Make good on your promise, little one.” he continued, his breath hot against your ear. “Take it all. You cannot fail your lord now, my little willing cock slave.”

As though by sheer force of will, your body responded instinctively to his words. Tired as you were, you were eager to please and be blessed. You do all you could to keep your hips rising to meet his own, chasing the pleasure that only he could give. You were going to come, you were certain of that. You must last. You must make sure of it. You let out another round of groans and moans, your face falling deeper into the futon as his touch igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with every passing moment.

Lord Sukuna’s gaze never wavered from yours, his expression fierce and unyielding. His eyes bore into you with an intensity that seemed to challenge you, daring you to look away or deny the deep, primal connection that bound you together. There was a dark satisfaction in his gaze, a silent promise of dominance and fulfillment that was both thrilling and overwhelming.

As his rhythm quickened, the pace of his thrusts became even more relentless. His hips snapped against you with a force that was both commanding and punishing, each movement driving you closer and closer to the brink of complete ecstasy. The intensity of his thrusts was almost brutal, each powerful push sending waves of pleasure crashing through you, leaving you breathless and desperate for release.

Sukuna’s lips curled into a smirk as he snickered, a sound that was both dark and triumphant. He could feel the way your body responded to him, the way you were on the edge of surrendering completely to the pleasure he provided. His eyes gleamed with a predatory satisfaction, knowing that you were ripe for the taking, ready to receive the full extent of his dominance and desire.

He could sense that you were prepared to take his cocks, that you were attuned to the pleasure they brought. His confident smirk widened as he considered the implications of your submission, his thoughts turning to more than just the immediate gratification. He thought about the possibility of his heir, a thought that only intensified his desire and determination. The idea of you carrying his legacy, of your body being marked by him in such a profound way, added a new layer to the already intense connection between you. Because there is no one more worthy. More perfect in his eyes. His little one, his favorite.

One after another, lord Sukuna drove home the feeling of his dominance, making it clear that you were his in every sense. The powerful rhythm of his hips, the unrelenting pressure of his touch, and the fierce intensity of his gaze combined to create a moment that was both exhilarating and all-consuming. The pleasure was overwhelming, and as you spiraled closer to the edge, you knew that this was not just about physical release but about something deeper, a connection that bound you both in ways beyond mere words.

As your lord Sukuna’s thrusts grew more erratic and intense, even more brutal than before —  his control over the rhythm of his movements began to waver. The pressure building within him reached a fever pitch, and his gaze remained locked on yours with an unwavering intensity. Each thrust became more forceful, his hips snapping against you with a powerful urgency that drove you both closer to the edge.

The sensation of his cocks moving inside you, the sheer force of his dominance, and the pleasure coursing through your body reached a crescendo. Your moans and gasps were almost lost amidst the sound of his relentless pounding, your entire being consumed by the overwhelming intensity of the moment.

With a low, guttural growl, Ryomen Sukuna’s control finally shattered. He released inside you with a forceful, shuddering climax. His cocks pulsed and throbbed, sending thick, hot streams of his essence deep within you. The sensation of his release was both exhilarating and overwhelming, a powerful wave of warmth and satisfaction that filled you completely.

As he came, his grip on your hips tightened even further, the pressure a reminder of his dominance. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his expression a mixture of intense pleasure and fierce satisfaction. He could feel every spasm of your body around him, every tremor of pleasure that accompanied his release. His snickers of triumph were now replaced by a deep, primal satisfaction, knowing he had pushed you to the brink and beyond.

You, too, felt the impact of his climax, your body reacting instinctively to the warmth spreading inside you. The pleasure was a heady mix of relief and fulfillment, leaving you feeling both exhausted and deeply satisfied. Sukuna’s presence was a constant, heavy weight, a reminder of the intense connection that had just reached its peak.

He pulled back slightly, his breath coming in heavy, uneven gasps. His gaze softened, though the intensity of his satisfaction remained. His smirk returned, though it now carried a note of smug satisfaction, as if he knew he had pushed you both to the limits and beyond.

“See how perfect this is?” he murmured, his voice a deep, velvety growl. “You were made for this, for me. No one else could ever satisfy you like this.”

As your eyes close slowly, you can only know you were.

You were made for this, you were made by the devil for him.

As slumber takes hold of you, you can only let out a silent prayer.

You prayed that your lord Sukuna will never tire of his little one.

Because you knew, if he did, then he would have no more use for you.

[totallynotashieldagent]

Kinktober 2024 - Overstimulation

Pairing: Matt Murdock/Reader

“What colour, Matty?” You cooed softly. 

“G-Green-” He stuttered, his voice wavering, his breath coming in desperate broken pants. 

It had been green for a while now. He just wouldn’t give in. He’d been groaning, whimpering. His cockhead was swollen and it was starting to look more red than pink but he was still saying green. 

His hands were tied to his thighs and his ankles were tied to the legs of the chair. His sat fully exposed for you. Gasping for air and still pleading for more. Even though his body was shaking, his throat was dry with how much he was begging. He still wanted more.

“Are you sure, baby?” Your hand moved gently across his length, cupping his balls.

He nodded quickly, his breath utterly broken. His body was so taut that you could see every defined muscle, every scar, every vein.

And the only thing that fell from his lips was please, please, please, please, please- with desperate whiney breaths and nothing else. I deserve it- I need it- Please, please please, don’t- don’t stop- He kept begging between choked gasps, his body shaking every time you touched his dick. 

His stomach was soaked and half-dried with caked cum. It wasn’t even white anymore. 

His dick was just twitching air but he was still hard and throbbing. His head was thrown back, moaning, tiny tears streaming down his face as he tried to take shallow breaths. You had to use lube to keep him slick as you moved your hand over his cock. Slow and paced and then suddenly quick. He’d whine louder, begging again with every stroke. 

His cock twitched again but nothing came out. You could feel the balls squeeze and his voice becoming more hoarse. 

“What colour, baby?” You asked again. 

“Green-” He mumbled, even though his head was lolling to the side, his blind eyes even more glassy somehow. “Still green.” He rasped. 

You loved and hated nights like these. The ones where he didn’t want to stop. The ones where he’d force you, beg you to keep going until he passed out. But god, if he didn’t look a vision like this. Tied, exposed, begging and all yours. 

You popped an ice cube in your mouth and sucked it until you were sure your tongue was cold. You threw it away and licked the shaft with the flat of your tongue. You couldn’t stop but that didn’t mean you couldn’t make it feel pleasurable instead of the pain he wanted. 

As soon as the cold tongue touched him, the moaning sigh that left him made you smile. You swirled your cold tongue around the hot cockhead. His body twitched again. His palms opened and closed, unable to move.

“What colour, baby?” You asked, your face pressed against his dick. 

“G-Gr-” He swallowed, losing coherence, “R-” He shook his head with a growl, “Green.” 

You could see he was pushing beyond his limits. He’d almost said red just now but he was still pushing through. 

“Matty-” You say softly, sucking on another ice cube to lick him down, to stop the pain he was probably starting to feel. 

“No- please- please.” He said hoarsely. “Not yet- One more-” 

You knew he’d definitely faint at one more but he was yours. Who were you to deny what he needed? 

“Just one more baby.” You nodded, lubing up your hands again and starting to pump him slowly. But he was so overworked and overstimulated that even one touch made him whimper. His head was thrown back immediately. His body was convulsing and clenching with every stroke. The noises he made were so fucking beautiful but his cock was burning in your hands with how overworked it was. 

You moved your hand across his shaft, brushing at the ridge of the head. Every move made him whimper so pathetically and god, what a pretty sound. 

It was a symphony of please, please, almost, please that echoed in the apartment. His voice was so hoarse but he still was so needy.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” You cooed, your other hand fondling and giving soft squeezes to his empty balls. 

“Y-Yes-” Matt whined, his hips bucking into your hands as much as he could giving his restraints. “Yes.” He moaned again. 

His cock twitched, every muscle of his body was taut and you felt his balls tense again. His dick pulsated in your hand and maybe a few drops gathered on top but nothing more came. 

“Good boy… Such a pretty mess-” You whispered to him as his body went slack. “What colour?” 

“Gr- Red-” He finally whispered. His body loosened entirely and slumping back into the chair.

The reason that Matt got overstimulation as his kink.

Kinktober 2024.

[ginxyy]

Backstage Encounters

Falling for an idol over backstage encounters is so cringe but here we are

MISSING JEONGHAN HOURS

It was a sweltering summer night in Seoul, the kind that made everything seem more vibrant than it really was. Lights bounced off every surface, creating a dazzling array of colors that swirled like confetti around the bustling buildings. I was merely a cog in the grand machine of the entertainment industry, working as a personal assistant for a few idols. My days were filled with schedules, rehearsals, and, occasionally, a touch of romance that lingered like the artificial perfume in the air.

Among the many faces that populated my chaotic world, Jeonghan stood out from the very first moment I saw him. With his cascades of golden hair that seemed to reflect the neon lights, and a smile that could melt ice, he was an idol in the truest sense. I would catch sight of him at various shows, his presence magnetic, drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

He was charming, of course; that was part of his allure. Those moments when we shared friendly hellos were fleeting, but they held a softness that seemed to linger long after he had turned away.

At first, our interactions were polite casual exchanges shrouded in the whirlwind of performances and the buzzing energy of fans. “Hey, how are you?” he would ask, his head tilted ever so slightly, his smile like a secret waiting to be shared. My responses were the usual rehearsed niceties, but deep down, my heart would flutter like the wings of a captured butterfly. I knew I was more than just a personal assistant in those moments; I was a curious spectator watching a love story unfold.

Our conversations slowly began to grow, evolving from polite small talk into actual exchanges of thoughts and feelings. We shared laughs over absurd backstage moments, and I learned about his passions beyond music, the places he longed to visit, and the little things that simply made life beautiful for him. I found myself enchanted, fiercely drawn to the depth behind those glimmering eyes. The chemistry was undeniable; little proving grounds where we danced around our mutual attraction, verbal sparring that felt like a prelude to something much deeper.

The flirting began uncharacteristically an odd comment here, a lingering look there. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, bold yet gentle, igniting a heat that coursed through my veins. Jeonghan had a way of making the ordinary feel extraordinary, and every quirk in his smile turned a simple hello into an electrifying moment that sent shivers through me.

It was during one particularly lustrous evening after a music show that the world coalesced into a dazzling blur of emotions. The green room was alive with laughter and chatter, a symphony of voices echoing off the walls muddled with the remnants of excitement from the stage. I was busy tidying up, ensuring everything was in order when I felt his presence behind me. It was as if time slowed down, the air thickening with unspoken words.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and laced with an oddly intimate timbre that made my heart race. I turned to face him, his frame framed by the soft glow of backstage lights. The laughter and noise around us faded into the background, leaving only the two of us in this charged bubble.

“Hey,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, knowing all too well the potential tremor that lay beneath such a simple word. Our eyes locked, the kind of anchored connection that made the world spin away until we were left with nothing but the unspoken tension hanging in the air.

“Can I steal you for a minute?” He stepped closer, the spaces between us evaporating. My breath caught, a flutter in my chest resonating wildly. His smile was both inviting and mischievous, a silent promise echoing between us. I nodded, unable to trust my voice now, as he guided me toward a quieter corner of the room.

The moment the door to the green room sprang shut behind us, reality transformed. The noise of the world faded, leaving just the two of us in a cocoon of intimate silence. In that small space, something shifted, like the electricity before a storm. The casual banter we’d shared morphed into something decidedly more heated, and I could feel the blush creeping into my cheeks, warmth flooding through me. His gaze danced across my face, searching, teasing, asking questions that words failed to convey.

“This is where the magic happens, isn’t it?” he said, his eyes shimmering with laughter as he gestured around me. I chuckled softly, the laughter spilling from my lips like a wave breaking on the shore. “I guess so,” I breathed, the proximity of our bodies igniting something in the air that made every nerve in my body sing.

And then, almost as if the universe had conspired to bring us to this moment, he stepped closer. The air thickened, pulsing with anticipation. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” he murmured, and before I could decipher the meaning, he closed the gap between us, his lips brushing against mine in a tender yet electrifying kiss.

It was soft at first, a cautious exploration of the uncharted territory we had danced around for so long. Any reservations melted away like snow in the sun. Mustering every ounce of bravery, I deepened the kiss, my fingers weaving into his hair. Our breaths mingled and hearts raced as if we were trying to outpace the very universe that brought us together.

Each heartbeat echoed louder than the chaos beyond the greenroom doors. This kiss was unlike anything I had ever experienced, filled with the passion we had kept at bay, an intoxication that filled my senses and made the world outside dissolve into a mere memory. It was a collision of longing and tenderness, excitement and vulnerability, echoed perfectly in our two souls colliding.

The moment stretched, time making fools of us both as neither of us seemed eager to pull away. Jeonhan’s hands found their way to my waist, firm yet gentle, pulling me closer as if trying to fold me into the very essence of him. I could taste the sweetness in the air, the heat rising, unraveling everything we had carefully crafted over the months. And in that green room, amidst the echoes of music and memories, I knew that what had started as mere hellos had blossomed into so much more.

As we finally parted, our foreheads resting against one another, I could see it in his eyes the unmistakable understanding that we had crossed a threshold, and there was no going back.

Jeonghan s forehead rested against mine, our breaths still mingling as if they shared the same rhythm. The silence that had enveloped us in those few precious moments felt like a cocoon, warm and safe. My pulse echoed in my ears, gradually slowing but still carrying the rush of what we’d just shared. The taste of him lingered—a mix of sweetness and something utterly intoxicating that was uniquely his. I felt his thumb gently trace a line along my cheek, his fingers brushing strands of hair behind my ear in a gesture so tender that it nearly unraveled me.

He let out a small, contented sigh, his eyes flickering open, dark and soft as they searched mine. “You… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice low, each word carrying weight. His hand lingered on my jaw, the warmth of his skin seeping into me like a quiet fire.

I swallowed, barely finding my voice. “I thought… I thought it was just me,” I whispered, realizing just how deep those words cut. The longing, the uncertainty, the late nights replaying every moment we’d exchanged a glance or a word. And now, here we were, closer than I’d dared imagine.

His fingers traced my jawline as his lips curved into that irresistible, knowing smile, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “Only you could think that,” he teased, his voice soft, affectionate. And then, his face grew more serious, his thumb caressing my cheek slowly. “But I meant it. It was always you… from that very first time I saw you backstage, trying so hard not to look at me.”

I blushed, heat flooding my cheeks. “I wasn’t trying not to look…”

“Oh, no?” His hand slid to the nape of my neck, fingers weaving through my hair as he tilted my face slightly closer. His breath feathered against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. “You thought you were being so subtle,” he said softly, his words grazing the shell of my ear. “I could tell from across the room.”

He closed the remaining distance between us, his lips brushing mine once more, soft but with a hint of restraint. This time, though, there was no hesitancy in my response. I leaned into him, my hands finding their way to the cool fabric of his shirt, fingers clutching him as if to keep him from slipping away. His hands moved to my waist, holding me as though I were the only thing grounding him, the world outside forgotten.

The green room felt like it was shrinking around us, the walls pressing close, trapping the heady warmth that pulsed between us. Everything beyond this space had faded, the music and lights from the outside world a distant hum. His lips traveled along my jaw, tracing a path to my neck, his breath hot against my skin. My fingers gripped his shoulders, feeling the firmness beneath the thin layer of his shirt, the tension in his muscles mirroring my own.

Time seemed to stretch and bend, our breaths merging as we lost ourselves in each other’s closeness. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his gaze intense, eyes darkened with a mixture of desire and something even deeper, something unspoken that lingered in the space between us.

I searched his face, a silent question forming on my lips. But before I could voice it, his hand moved to cradle my face, his thumb sweeping gently across my cheek. “I don’t want this to end,” he whispered, the vulnerability in his voice catching me off guard.

My heart softened, and I found myself lost in the sincerity in his gaze. “Me neither,” I whispered, surprised by the depth of feeling those two words held.

He smiled, and something in that moment shifted. His lips met mine again, deeper this time, all traces of hesitance gone, replaced with a passion that had been simmering just below the surface, waiting for this exact moment to break free. The kiss grew urgent, a silent understanding passing between us, an unspoken promise.

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. My fingers traced the outline of his shoulders, his back, feeling the strength beneath my touch, the heat radiating through him as he pressed me gently against the wall. He held me with a kind of reverence, as though I were something fragile yet fiercely precious. Every touch, every kiss felt like a confession, a revelation of the feelings we had kept guarded for so long.

Our breaths grew ragged, and he pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against mine once again. His hand moved to brush a stray hair from my face, and his eyes softened, his expression unguarded. “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for this moment,” he said, his voice barely a murmur.

I could feel my heart clench, every word he spoke sinking deeper. “Me too,” I replied, and in that moment, there was nothing left to hide.

As the intensity ebbed just slightly, he took my hand, intertwining our fingers with a gentleness that belied the heat of the moment. His thumb brushed over my knuckles as he looked at me, a soft smile gracing his lips, one that made my heart stutter. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, his voice a gentle invitation.

A thrill ran through me as I nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand in mine, steady and sure. We slipped out of the green room together, each step punctuated by shared glances and quiet smiles, as though we were carrying a precious secret, a memory made in whispers and warmth.

The dim glow of the single light in the dressing room cast shadows across his face, highlighting the soft, intense look in his eyes as he stepped toward me, closing the space between us. My pulse quickened, each beat echoing in my ears as his hand lifted, his fingers grazing my cheek in a touch so gentle it sent a shiver down my spine. He tilted my face up toward him, his thumb sweeping over my cheek as his gaze held mine with an intensity that made everything around us blur.

Without a word, he leaned down, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was both soft and fierce, a blend of longing and restraint that sent warmth flooding through me. My hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers tracing the muscles there, feeling the tension coiled beneath my touch. I pressed closer to him, drawn to his warmth, his presence, as if I could somehow merge my own heartbeat with his.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us, our bodies molded together as if they were meant to fit this way. I could feel the heat radiating from him, a slow, pulsing warmth that seemed to sync with my own, our breaths mingling in the charged air between us. His lips moved with an intensity that matched the quickening pace of my heartbeat, a silent promise wrapped in every gentle, yet insistent, brush of his mouth against mine.

As our kiss deepened, his hands traveled down my sides, his fingers trailing along my waist, leaving a line of fire in their wake. I felt his hands settle on my hips, his grip firm yet gentle, and he pulled me even closer, our bodies pressed together in a way that felt both thrilling and grounding. His touch was a blend of passion and restraint, every move of his fingers a careful exploration, as if he wanted to memorize every curve, every line.

He broke the kiss only briefly, his mouth moving to trace a path along my jaw, leaving a trail of warmth with each kiss. My breath hitched as his lips found the hollow just beneath my ear, and he lingered there, his breath hot against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. His hands slid up my back, fingers splaying across my shoulders, holding me to him as he continued his slow, tantalizing exploration. I let out a quiet sigh, tilting my head back as he moved to press his lips to the sensitive spot on my neck.

With each touch, each brush of his lips, my senses seemed to heighten, the room shrinking until it was just us, wrapped in each other, the air thick with unspoken need. His fingers trailed down my spine, his touch featherlight, yet igniting sparks that radiated through me, settling low and deep. My hands moved of their own accord, sliding down his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine, darkened with the same longing that mirrored my own. For a moment, we simply looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between us, the air thick with anticipation. He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering, his thumb tracing slow circles on my cheek.

“I don’t want to hold back anymore,” he murmured, his voice rough, yet softened by something deeper, something vulnerable. There was a rawness in his gaze that left me breathless, my heart swelling with the realization that this moment meant as much to him as it did to me.

I didn’t respond with words; instead, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to his with a fervor that matched the heat simmering between us. This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. His arms tightened around me, his hands moving with purpose as they traveled down my back, his touch both firm and tender, grounding and electrifying all at once.

I felt his hands slide beneath the fabric of my shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of my back, and a shiver raced through me at the contact. His touch was warm, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against my skin as he pulled me even closer. Our kiss grew more heated, more urgent, a silent confession in every movement, a melding of longing and tenderness that left us both breathless.

My fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer as I deepened the kiss, feeling his sharp intake of breath, the way his body responded to mine. His hands slid to my waist, lifting me slightly as he pressed me back against the wall, his body leaning into mine in a way that made every nerve in my body sing. The coolness of the wall against my back contrasted with the heat radiating from him, amplifying the intensity of the moment, heightening every sensation.

His lips left mine, traveling down my neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses along my collarbone. Each touch was deliberate, a silent declaration that seemed to say, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. My hands roamed over his back, feeling the strength beneath his skin, the way his muscles tensed beneath my touch as he pulled me closer, as though he couldn’t bear to let even a breath of space exist between us.

The world outside this room, the noise, the lights, everything faded away, leaving only the two of us locked in this intimate, electrifying embrace. He lifted his head, his gaze meeting mine, his eyes softened with something deeper, something that went beyond the heat of the moment. He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my lips as he whispered, “I’ve never felt this way before.”

Those words, simple yet filled with so much meaning, sent a thrill through me, my heart pounding with a realization that left me dizzy. I tightened my grip on him, a silent answer, a promise that mirrored his own.

As our breaths slowed, the initial fervor giving way to a quieter intensity, he cradled my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gentle circles on my cheeks. His eyes searched mine, his expression softening as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and in that moment, I saw not just the idol, the image everyone adored, but the person beneath, raw and real, vulnerable and open.

We stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, our foreheads pressed together, our breaths mingling in the quiet that settled around us like a warm blanket. His fingers tangled in my hair, his touch tender, reverent, as though he were afraid that if he let go, I would disappear. And as I looked into his eyes, my own heart laid bare, I knew that I was falling..falling deeper than I’d ever thought possible, into something that felt too big, too real, too beautiful to fully comprehend.

He pulled me into another kiss, this one slower, more tender, filled with an unspoken promise that sent warmth flooding through me. His hands roamed up and down my back, his touch gentle yet lingering, a constant reminder that he was here, that this moment was ours and ours alone. We lost ourselves in each other, in the gentle rhythm of our breaths, in the warmth of our embrace, in the quiet promise that bound us together.

When we finally pulled back, our foreheads still pressed together, he smiled, his eyes bright with a mixture of wonder and tenderness. He lifted a hand, his fingers brushing over my cheek, tracing the line of my jaw, as though memorizing every detail.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet awe that made my heart ache with the depth of my own feelings.

I smiled, my hand moving to rest over his, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. “So are you,” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper, but the words carried everything I felt, everything I couldn’t yet say.

In that quiet, intimate moment, we held each other close, a sense of peace settling over us, grounding us in a way that felt as natural as breathing. And as I looked into his eyes, my heart swelling with a love that was both thrilling and terrifying, I knew that this was only the beginning.

[sky-kiss]

R/T, H/T: I’m not a villain, I’m just a sucker for a bleeding heart.

Tav whimpers. 

Tav moans. 

Tav makes many lovely little noises, no less lovely for their frequency. The devil lifts his head and listens. A symphony of sound accompanies the ghosts of pleasing licking across his skin. He hears the steady beat of Haarlep’s wings, the slap of sweat-slick skin. If he focuses, turning himself over to his Infernal heritage more fully, he will hear the riotous thunder of the once hero’s heartbeat. 

He basks in this note, inhaling deeply: sweat, sin, lust. Trifling temptations, beneath a devil of his stature, but undeniably effective. Raphael crosses from his office to the adjoining suite, watching his toys play. Haarlep sees him, a lascivious smirk tugging at their lovely features. The incubus shifts just enough to bow the adventurer up beneath them, fingers curling around her throat to tip her head up. 

“Ah, we must consider ourselves flattered, pretty bird. Our song summoned the cat.” 

Tav’s eyes flutter open just long enough to fix on him, lovely mouth falling out in a wordless cry. Such a sight, this prize of his—her once lovely skin is a patchwork of bruises and scrapes. She no longer heals them—the silly dear wears them like badges of honor. 

She’s survived them again, she says, and there is something sweetly naive, quite precious, in her defiance. Haarlep rocks into her, languid, a pace designed to build and build but never break. They’ve been at this for hours, teetering on the edge of oblivion. 

“Show me more of her, won’t you?” 

Haarlep snickers. The incubus rolls onto their back, dragging the little hero on top of them. Tav tosses her head to clear the hair from her eyes, flushed, sweaty, and darkly lovely. 

“There—my favorite client. Still enjoying yourself?” 

She opens her mouth to speak and screams instead, Haarlep thrusting up hard enough to leave her sagging in their grip. Tav manages a shaky nod. 

Raphael crosses to the pair. He kisses her with the gentility of a groom’s first taste of his bride—sweetly searching and light. She clutches at his doublet. He tuts, prying her hands off him. 

“Tsk. So slow to learn: you may not touch the Master’s things without permission. Greedy thieves must play with Haarlep till the lesson sticks.” 

He nods to the incubus, and the game begins again.

[iheartz4starzz]

EMBARRASSMENT 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

dazai osamu x f.reader (gakuen au)

SYNOPSIS: reader is sitting alone at lunch, a certain bandage for brains decides to sit with them.

NOTE: so like... i'm back <3

Embarrassment is always a feeling that would kick you in the backside every time it got the chance to, which is probably most frequently.

Take class today, for example. Your classroom was taking a 'surprise' quiz from your teacher which, by the way, you are totally going to fail because you didn't understand half the shit the questions said. You didn't know why, but the melody from 'Symphony' kept ringing through your brain. This resulted in you having to read the questions over and over again.

Before you knew it, half the class was already finished with their quiz. And on top of that, you were hungry as hell. Probably to the point where you could eat your test paper. While trying to focus on your test, your stomach began to grumble loudly. It sounded as if a battle horn was being played. And get this, the whole class was quiet! Everybody turned to you with a questionable look, while some people giggled or snickered.

Sinking into your seat, your face began to heat up from embarrassment. That is, until you were saved by the loud ringing of the bell. Students fled from the classroom with their friends to their well-deserved lunch break.

You let out a sigh of relief and sat up from your desk, grabbed your bento box, and made your way to your normal, lonely bench for lunch.

You're used to sitting by yourself at lunch for the most part. People come and go from your table, yet you remain the only one that stayed. You sat down, opened your bento box, whispered a quick prayer before beginning to dig into your meal. God, how you've been waiting for this the whole day.

But before you could even take even a bite from a piece of food, a voice interrupted your peace. "Hey, you're (Name), right?"

An irk mark appeared on your forehead as closed your eyes in annoyance. You were about to eat, and someone interrupted you before you could even take a bite! Man, how disrespectful people can be.

You turned the voice and was in the process to give them a piece of your mind before your eyes widened to see none other than one of the most popular kids, Dazai Osamu. He's loud, sociable, and most definitely handsome. He's also often described as the class clown and player in your grade.

You looked around, wondering if he was talking to somebody else who's named (Name). There had to be someone else in this school name (Name), right?

"Me. You're talking to me?" You asked, pointing at yourself as you stared at brunette, dumbfounded.

Dazai could only laugh at your clueless expression, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. "I think so. Unless your name isn't Mai."

"Nope, yeah! That's me! Sorry. It's not everyday when the one of the popular kids at this school talks to me, y'know?" (Name) chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment about the stupid mistake she made. Of course he was talking to you! His gaze was literally directed onto you. This was your one chance to make a good expression, and you already blew it.

Dazai raised an eyebrow before snickering, then letting out a laugh. "You're funny! Mind if I sit here?"

You motioned to the spot beside you. Dazai scooted next to you, causing you to blush at the close proximity he created. You cleared your throat and stuck your hand out for Dazai to shake.

"I'm (Name), by the way. Though, you already know that because..." You stopped halfway before you could say anything else in attempt to save yourself from embarrassment. You expectantly failed and cursed under your breath.

Dazai smiled at your flustered and embarrassed expression. He found it cute. He noticed the hand you pulled away and grabbed it, pulling it back and shaking your hand firmly.

"No need to stop! I appreciate the reintroduction." Dazai chuckled and let go of your hand.

"R-Right."

"Anyways, about the quiz today." Dazai started and rested his cheek in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped onto the table. "You seemed to be having trouble on it. It's pretty easy, to."

"I'm just a bit... distracted." You replied, looking away from Dazai. You didn't want him to think you were stupid because the melody of 'Symphony' was one of the many things that lived in your mind rent free.

"You must've been hungry by how loud your stomach growled in class." He added.

"Don't even start with that!" You wailed, burying your red face into your hands.

Dazai laughed. "We have those times, don't sweat it. Plus, I'm pretty sure everybody was feeling the same way to." You still were embarrassed from the situation, though you picked your face up from your palms and continued to eat your lunch.

You and Dazai continued to chat through the lunch period, laughter filling the area as he told jokes and teased you. Though it embarrassed you mostly, you couldn't help but laugh along to it.

"Hey Dazai, how come you decided to sit with me?" (Name) asked and closed her bento box.

"Hm? Why did I?" Dazai recalled and cupped his chin with his point and thumb finger, thinking. He then smirked and leaned closer to you. "You looked lonely, after all. Plus, I thought you look pretty cute all flustered."

You blushed at Dazai calling you cute and how close he was to you, which caused you to smile in a giddy way. Just then, your guys conversation was interrupted by the school bell, informing everyone to get back to class. You sighed and stood up, smiling at Dazai.

"Thanks for sitting with me." You thanked the brunette, and to which he nodded in response.

A silence engulfed the conversation. Beginning to rock your heels back and forth, your lips pursed as you then muster up the courage to say the next thing. "Would it be crazy if we maybe hang out after school sometime? Maybe go to the arcade and get some ice cream?"

Dazai blinked his eyes, registering the information. A small blush dusted across his cheeks as he then smiled. "Yeah, sure. How about this weekend?"

"Cool, cool, yeah of course." You replied in a chill tone, but your inner self was actually screaming and jumping up and down with excitement. "Uhm, I'll catch you later, then!"

You backed away, bumping into a trash in the process. You quickly caught the bin before it could topple over, and smiled awkwardly at Dazai before running off.

The brunette held his hand to say something else, but it was to late. He let out a sigh and chuckled, shaking his head and stuffing his hands into his pockets before approaching the same door you went through.

'Silly girl. Doesn't she remember we're in the same class?' He thought to himself and walked inside the building.

[1-800-local-slut]

Decisions

Rio x Black! Fem! Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, sad ending, lies and deceit, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, broken family, break ups, arguing, reader has a bad mom, mention of smut, kinda creepy Rio, abusive childhood, suicidal thoughts, recreational drug use, mentions of sex but no smut, Rio calls Beth annoying but make no mistake I love me some Beth, slight canon divergence, not proof read we die like men 💪🏾

Rio get’s close to the reader, due to him having an issue with her mother. He falls for her and they start dating but 8 months into their relationship she finds out the first six months of their relationship was a lie. She realizes she can’t trust him and dumps him.

PSA: The reader has an abusive mother and no father, there's only one mention of the reader getting punched in the face. If that's something that would trigger you then please don't read for your own sake

Please let me know if you guys enjoy!

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When he saw her for the first time, it was dark out. She was standing under the streetlight, waiting for her bus and Rio was standing in the bushes behind her. The light above made her luminescent, giving her dark skin and gorgeous glow. He didn't even know why it shocked him to see her there. He had been waiting for her after all.

It was a chilly April night, she was shivering. Rubbing her hands together and exhaling a puff of cold air. He even remembered thinking that it was weird how cold it was for April. She held her phone in her hand, her headphones lightly bled music. Rio could've stared at her all day, if only he wasn't here on business.

He needed to put some pressure on someone and this was how it needed to be done. Stepping out of the bush, Rio slid close to the target of the evening.

His eyes scanned her up and down, looking for some sort of entry point. She didn't notice him, he wasn't standing too close to her yet. With a final scan, he noticed the Jordan high tops that hugged her feet. Perfect.

Taking another step, a bigger step, he made sure his presence was known. Her eyes glanced up at him, a natural response. She carefully observed him, like she was deciding if she should take a large step away or just ignore him. The leaking music shut off and Rio fought back a smile. Best not to freak her out. It was time to finally put things into motion.

"Those shoes are nice, I was looking for a pair for my cousins quince gift but I couldn't find any in her size." Of course there was no way to start a conversation with a woman this late at night in t he middle of nowhere waiting for a bus without sounding like a creep but Rio was pressed for time.

She raised an eyebrow, and glance him up and down before she glanced at the time. Checking how much time before the bus came, smart.

"Thanks. I picked them up last week." Curt and to the point. Rio admired how quickly she went on the defense.

"They suit you. The color I mean. If you don't mind can I ask where you brought those? I just moved here, and I don't know where anything is." Her plump lips pushed into a straight line as if she was contemplating.

Mentally, he willed her to just go for it. Just take the bait, so the guy he had in the bushes who was about to take a few pictures for evidence could get something.

"Yeah, you just have to head to the store on 83rd. There's a place called Sole Symphony. You can get a good deal if you talk to the right person.

"Oh I passed that place on my drive in. I'm Rio, by the way." Extending his palm, Rio heard the bus pulling up behind them. Sure, he knew her name already. But what if he wanted to know more than just her name?

As she placed her hand in his and said her name, the doors of the bus slid open behind the two.

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"Baby what do you want to eat?" She was leaning on the arm of the couch, while Rio rested his head on her lap. Clad in one of Rio's black t-shirts, and a pair of his boxers that outlined that ass he worshipped. Under the lights of her living room, she still looked radiant.

"What, you can't cook?" Rio teased, only to be playfully swatted on his head.

"Stop being annoying, I'm ordering dinner because someone's stupid self forgot to go to the grocery store."

"I forgot to go because you wanted to play around all day, so had to I come home and handle business." Rio smiled, a true smile. A smile he hadn't had in a really really long time. She giggled and bent her face closer to his, and hummed. She rubbed her thumb over his forehead, in a way that made Rio shudder.

"I only did that because you finished all my weed and then got me the wrong strain. So maybe that's your fault?" Rio rolled his eyes playfully, and accepted the soft kiss she planted on his lips.

It filled him with a warm, thick feeling. If someone made love into soup, it was filling his stomach at this very moment. Giving him a full, heavy feeling that Rio never wanted to lose. After a second they pulled apart and Rio stared deeply into her eyes. She did the same, like she could see Rio baring his soul to her.

Every now and again though, he remembered though that this was merely temporary. He never, and he cannot stress how much he means never, let himself fall for someone he was using for business. Still, some rules were meant to be broken.

Whenever he remembered that fact, when he remembered that once his debt was settled with her mother (the whole reason he approached her at that bus station in the first place), his heart died a bit.

The past four months had been nothing but a mix of stress and bliss. Stress, the stress of accidentally hurting the person who broke into his heart. Bliss, from laying with her just like this. Every night, or going to dinner with her. How six months could change a man so much was beyond him. Just being with her, even if it was technically for leverage. Though he would never hurt her.

Still, if she knew, it would hurt her more than anything. It would be like a knife, piercing her heart before twisting and causing her to bleed out unstoppably.

Realistically, speaking anyone would be. If you knew your drug addict mother got herself in too deep and your boyfriend was only with you for leverage against her, you'd be pretty cut up about it, wouldn't you?

The drug addict mother, who started exhibiting psychotic jealousy at what seemed like the moment you turned 12 , and who punched you in the mouth after you refused to be nice to her new boyfriend, who you fought so hard to get away from after your nightmare of a childhood? Who told you everyday that not only were you not shit but you'd never be shit? The mother you don't even tell people you have, like the father you never met?

How would you feel to find out that after fighting your entire life just to live a life that wasn't filled with filth, bearing your entire being to someone (the only one who knew the truth), that finally when you found happiness none of it was real? All because of the mother who you don't even acknowledge, after fighting tooth and nail to get as far as you could from, was still giving you grief.

It killed Rio to know all of this too. To see the scars that she trusted him enough to explain. To explain why she's afraid to have children of her own, to understand what made her into the beautiful, strong and confident woman she turned into too. How could Rio hurt someone who accepted him so wholly?

It made him sick to think about. Honestly, he felt like a toxic rapper who does his woman wrong and everyone but her seems to know. He felt like the definition of shit.

"...be?"

"Huh?"

"Is thai food alright with you, babe?"

"Yeah. Yeah sorry I just dosed off for a moment." Just like that, her voice was like a light shinning through the dark. Her face reflected concern, and she ran a manicured nail over his cheek. On instinct he clasped her hand in his.

"What's wrong with you?" Her voice an even whisper. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her literally everything, and he meant everything. Everything about himself, not the partly fabricated tale he told her about his life for the sake of keeping her at an arms length.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Rio gave a small chuckle.

"Nah just thinking about you mamas." Rio smirked up at her and saw her playful eye roll.

"Boy, if you don't do something with yourself." She laughed with a the smile he'd fallen in love with, pinching him on his chest and he winced before letting out a laugh. Rio grabbed his pants from the side of the couch where he hastily threw them when he came home to 'handle business'. Pulling out his wallet, he plucked his credit card out of the folds. He chuckled and handed it to her, where it was gracefully accepted. Within seconds, Rio felt like he could feel the money being pulled from his heart and his card.

"I'm gonna go take a shower, you keep an ear out for the food." She announced, slipping out from underneath him and leaving his head to connect with the couch.

"Without me though?" He watched her walk out of the living room and to her bathroom, sliding the boxers off in the process. If anything she was relentless in her desire to tease him.

"Don't be gross." She chastised, tossing her shirt off behind her and Rio admired her perfect body before she was out of sight and the door behind her closed.

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"Flowers?" Beth raised an eyebrow at the large bundle in the back of his car. Rio glanced back, the flowers and immediate reminder of what was waiting for him right after this. He couldn't even fight the grin. This girl had him feeling butterflies, kicking his feet and giggling when she wasn't even there and it was only eight months.

"For my lady." It was Fall now. The changing leaves reminded Rio of his changing heart, his changing mind. How he changed so much in the last eight months in so many ways that he couldn't even describe.

Coming up on their eight month anniversary and Rio wasn't even close to playing when it came to celebrating. That big ass bouquet was just the first part. He had a pair of matching necklaces for the two of them, a set of twin cuban links with a nice romantic saying, 'Semper Fidelis' (Always Faithful) carved into them.

Especially since his relationship with Beth had been a recent source of anger between the two. In all fairness, Rio told her he was involved in the stock market, which technically wasn't a lie. She knew he did something illegal though and didn't seem to care as long as neither of them got arrested.

What he didn't explain was what a big tittied white woman was doing calling his phone in the middle of the night and why she sounded so upset when she answered instead of him. Or why there were so many calls between the two of them when Rio was at work when Rio requested she don't blow his phone up when he's at work. Or why when he came home early to have lunch with her he had to leave in the middle because Beth had been blowing his phone up during their entire meal.

Honestly though, Rio knew better than to trip about it. Shit, Rio knew he wasn't even feeling Beth's annoying ass like that. If it was him, some dude called his girl in the middle of the night then had the audacity to sound annoyed when HE answered the phone? He would've flown off the handle before the call even hung up. He'd be out of bed, pulling up his pants and boxers, grabbing his gun and his keys and half way into his shoes.

"You have a girlfriend?" Beth asked, eyes bugging out of her head, mouth open in shock. Why did she look like a salmon?

"You sound shocked. I got game, Elizabeth. Anyways, about your issue tell your FBI man that I hit or whatever." Pushing down the button, she still sat there gaping at him.

"What...?" She blinked, hushing her voice as if someone was gonna hear them. Part of him wanted to tell her to get the fuck out so he could get the fuck home. But in the past eight months, he learned how to have a bit more patience.

"Tell him we made love." Wiggling his eyebrows he made a motion for her to get out of his vehicle and she made her way out. Thank God.

Turning on his engine he winded down the window of the passenger window.

"Make me sound good." And with that he was gone.

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As crazy and inebriated as her momma was for most of her childhood, sometimes she was smart. Like when she taught her how to fight when those girls at school wanted to jump her. Like when she taught her and her sisters to never and she meant NEVER leave your sister in a pinch no matter whats going on between you three. When she taught her how to hot wire a car, and especially when to know if a man was lying.

There were more life lessons, like how to make a crack pipe on the go or how to hide from the police but what can you really learn from someone who was drunk as shit most of your life?

So imagine how shocked and confused she was when she realized 'dang. my momma was right, all niggas are liars.' because her boyfriend had been lying to her their entire relationship? Was it lying or omission? Was she gonna pack her shit and leave without a word to his no-good-low-down-lying-scheming-dirty-bastard self, or put hands on him and go to jail? Lots of decisions for a girl to make in one night. One thing she did decide on the moment she got that phone call from her mom this morning, and got those photos that were taken that first night they met: it was over.

She wished all she felt was anger but that was a lie. With Rio, no Christopher, things were easy. She really was in love, he made her heart swell up like a balloon. When she was at her worse, he was right there and understood and helped her in the best way he could. Understood her anger, understood her sadness. Whatever choice she made, he stood behind it no matter what. He wasn't the type of guy (maybe he could've been, it was clear that she had no clue who he really was) to just sit there and act like he always knew better than you. No, he listened to her, gave her an ear and when she asked for it advice.

This hurt. This wasn't just sadness and betrayal, it was despair. To know that after she fought to get away from her mother. After she got up, walked out that house with nothing but the clothes on her back and said 'if i'm homeless i'm homeless, but its better than being with you' and never saw her again it was only because of that woman that she met someone who she was so head over heels for.

Because of that woman she was sitting here, heart broken. She was sitting here, after sobbing her eyes out in disbelief, after deleting every single picture of the two out of her phone. She was sitting here drowning in rage and betrayal. No. No for once, she couldn't put all the blame on her.

Christopher made the choice to play in her face. He made the choice to waste eight months of her life. To lie, and say he loved her like would be the only woman for him. He probably was cheating on her with that white bitch (with a name like Elizabeth she had to be) and they were probably laughing at her for the past eight months cuddled up together. He made the choice and she fell for it. Outside, the lights of his car pulling up roused some sort of rage deep inside of her. A little voice in her head spoke, it said take a bottle to the backside of his head.

Taking the bottle of liquor next to her, and rearing her arm back over her head she pondered if she was really going to listen to that little voice.

It an easy decision to make.

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"You stupid fuck! Really Christopher, this is what we on?" The scream, and the bottle hitting the wall right next to the door was his greeting. Not a 'hi baby, how was work' like usual. He could already guess he was not about to hit tonight.

"What the fuck? What is your problem?" He yelled back, in this instance he was justified in his screaming considering the murder attempt.

"My problem? My problem? You dickhead, your my fucking problem! You thought shit was sweet? You thought I was just gonna let it slide?" She laughed, anger literally rolling off her.

Taking a moment to look around Rio noticed a few things: the photo of them that was on the table next to her couch was tipped over, the glass shattered the frame on the ground. There was a half empty bottle of wine and a broken glass in the sink. There was a manilla folder, one that he was praying he didn't recognize (but he was starting to think he did), clutched in her shaking hand. Her curly hair was a mess, like she'd been tugging at it in anger.

Sure he knew she'd always been a little bit crazy, he was actually really into it, but did he think this was how their eighth anniversary would start? Nope.

His stomach started to drop. It had been a few months since his business with her mother ended and he was truly hoping from the bottom of his heart hoping she would never find out. He ruled out her mother somehow finally worrying about her enough to tell her.

"What is that?" Rio asked, slamming the door behind him and stepping into the apartment fully. Her neighbors only needed to hear the first part of their exchange, nothing more. She took three defiant steps backwards. The lights were all off, and only the TV was on.

"Got this in the fucking mail today." She growled, throwing the packet at his face. Clear as day, the pictures he had taken of them. For proof. One the first night they met, two on their first date, three when they went to the arcade together and played every game you both could manage and he found himself really trying to impress her. That was when he realized her had a bit of a problem. Then a few more, but eventually they stop after the first two months of their relationship.

The next four months of them being together he resorted to threats and by some miracle her mother found a way to pay off her debts and he was done with her by month six. But not using her for only two out of eight months of their relationship was not a good look.

An awkward silence settled over the two, his stomach feeling heavy. He started to feel warm from shame and fear. The room felt like it was spinning and his mouth felt dry. Even before she said it he knew that he just lost the best thing in his life.

"And some phone calls. Not only did you fucking use me, you also threatened my mom and found my sisters houses?! You dickhead, I'll kill you." She roared, throwing a near by object, which he narrowly dodged.

"Why did you play in my fucking face? For eight fucking months you decided to play in my face and be laid up with me and act like you love me, are you serious?" His head hung low, shame and disappointment and anger. Anger because he knew one thing for sure, this was no ones fault but his. He made the decisions he made. That was on no one but him.

"What you can't fucking talk now? You don't know words? But when that hoe Beth called you could sit up on the phone with her about bullshit right?" She yelled. Rio couldn't even find words. Where should he even start? Beth seemed like the worse place to start.

"Right?" She yelled again, getting in his face before stepping back and breaking into deranged laughter putting a hand on her forehead in outrage. He was panicking. What did he do? Yell at her when he knew he was wrong? Yell at himself for hurting her? What was he even supposed to do in a situation like this? A dry and tear-filled laugh shook him from his thoughts.

"Why though? Why did you do this, I trusted you. I gave you my heart, I gave you my fucking everything. If you can't trust you, then what can I trust?!" The broken sob cut through Rio like a knife. She threw her arms out and drunkenly staggered a bit. She stared, eyes pleading for an answer. An explanation. Anything? But for the first time in a long ass time, Rio had no idea what to say. He felt his palms sweat, gaze still fixed on the photos.

She would never smile at him the way she was in those pictures again. And she grinned as bright as the Sun in each photo except for the first.

When she was still met with silence, Rio resigned. He wanted to say something. Damn, why couldn't he speak? Why was he just sitting there? She was just as confused (surely more confused) as Rio.

"I can't believe this. I let you in and you really sat there and played with me. And you really don't got shit to say either? Well guess what nigga, it's done. I'll die before you hear my voice again, before you ever seem me again. And I could sit up here and yell and scream at you but you know what my momma taught me? As worthless as she was she taught me one thing: the best way to hurt a man is to move on. Get the fuck out." And just like that, before Rio could even say a word it was all over.

The next few minutes were a blur. A trash bag with all his shit was thrown out the window after he was shoved out of her apartment. All the gifts he'd gotten her, the shoes, the jewelry, even her cart that had her name custom printed on it, were tossed out there too. Rio sat out there, outside her apartment complex for what felt like hours.

Shit it probably had been hours. The flowers in the back taunted him. He wanted to stomp on them, he wanted to kick and scream at the world. Why did he fucking do that? For his job of course. Fuck that job, look where it got him. Standing outside the apartment of the love of his life.

Worse, he didn't even speak to defend himself, and she tossed him out so quick that it left his head spinning. He wasn't even sure how he walked to the elevator and made his way to his car. He wanted to die, he wanted to collapse, he wanted to go all the way back in time and tell himself to call off everything and meet her some other way. Now he lost everything that could've been lost to him.

And it was all because of his decisions.

Taglist:

@eddiemunsonreader

[buttercream-princess]

Modern Will Turner fluffy & spicy head canon x blackfem! Reader

Warnings: Light smut, pregnancy kink, swearing, fluff, edging, mentions of your family members, tattoo's, spanking

(Not edited or proof-read)

Note: I write most of my characters in modern settings, so this won’t be any different. I may write about him in POTC in the future but that’s something I need to chop up. Also first time writing a headcannon, this was fun making, I'm looking forward to doing some more for Will/Legolas/Orlando.

— Will is very attentive and never misses a single thing. Anything you have interest in, he’ll use his own bare hands to recreate it for you. You like candles? Here’s 1kg worth of candles in all your favorite scents. You like plushies and stuffed animals? Build a bear has nothing on Will’s craftsmanship, he made a lifesize teddy for you to cuddle when he’s not around. He’ll even order parts for his creations from overseas, no matter the price tag, to give you the perfect gift.

—- Adding onto how crafty he is, you never have to worry about breaking anything because Will is always happy to fix it for you and he always does so, effortlessly. He’s tactile and amazing with his hands.

—- He knocked down a wall in his house between his office and guest bedroom, renovated the room, painted the walls your favorite colors and furnished it with all your favourite things including a wall hung TV, neon lights, a pink desktop and plants. Just so you can have your own space when you’re at his house. He wants you to feel like his home is yours too.

—- He loves going to IKEA with you, it’s like a playground for him to find things to build for you and your room. When you get Hotdogs in the food court with him later and get mustard on your face, he’ll grab you by the chin and lick the sauce off. Anytime you get food on your face, he does this. Why wipe it off when he can just clean it off you?

—- Will’s intelligence is unlike anyone you’ve met before, but when he’s not using his head, he’s a bit of a himbo, giving off strong Kenergy. He might know how to solve enigmatic riddles quickly and build houses from scratch but he’s clueless when it comes to most general things. He’ll always regard you as the smarter one in the relationship. In his mind you’re everything and he’s just Will. He adores you that much.

—- He has a tattoo of your name and a blue butterfly next to it on his hip bone. This man is whipped. Gone and lost in your love. He’s considering getting your initials tattooed behind his ear.

—-  Will’s independent by nature but gosh, he is one needy motherfucker, but in the most adorable way. He’s coming with you to run errands to the beauty store, late night Target trips or waiting in the corner of the salon while you get your nails done. And he’s always paying, he never lets your credit card touch the reader.

—- Will can listen to you talk for hours about your life and yourself. He finds everything about you whimsical, enchanting and seductive. Even if you’re babbling about delusions and made up scenarios, he’ll react with big emotions like it’s happening right in the moment just because he loves you that much.

—- Will collects records that you love listening to. He says, “The record is always better than streaming it.”

—- Will use to only listen to symphonies and classical music before you came into his life. Now, he listens to everything you listen to. He’s fallen in love with Neo-soul and R&B and refuses to listen to anything else.

—- His favorite song is “Stay Ready (What A Life) by Jhene Aiko and forever dedicates that tune to you. Whenever the song plays, he always sings to you, “They say the truth ain't pretty. But comin’ out that pretty mouth the truth is fitting. Cuz you ain't never talkin loud and you know plenty. Yea you know what I'm talkin bout, cuz you just get me, Yea you so pretty”, And he means every word of it. That song was written just for you, he believes.

—- Even though you and Will are just dating and don’t have kids, he always refers to you as “His wife” or “Mother of my children”

—- Will’s favorite part of being intimate with you is undressing you. There’s something about seeing you come undone only and all for him, that makes him want to be closer to you, underneath your skin even.

—- Will love’s quickies and to give you a quick orgasm in the middle of the day. But there’s nothing he loves more than giving you a sensual, candle lit, slow jam’s experience. After a long day at work, expect Will to be ready for you with a bottle of aromatherapy bottle oil, ready to iron out all your tight muscles and kinks. And of course, this massage always leads to him giving you and internal rub down too. 

—- Will edges you any chance he gets. Sometimes you just wanna snatch your vibrator off him and hit him with it because he won’t let you cum. But he always lets you finally get off if you ask him kindly. He likes manner’s in the bedroom.

—- He has a pregnancy kink. He always moans about putting a baby in you while having sex. So you can imagine he always wants to do it raw. He always begs for you to wrap your legs and arms around him while he cums.

— He gives you warnings in the bedroom if you’re rushing the pleasure too quickly. Will believes pleasure should be savored and reveled in. Greedily chasing your release and out of warnings? That’s a hard pop to your behind, leaving your cheeks red and sore. But he quickly runs his hand over your skin, soothing you. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. See what happens when you don’t listen? Hmmm?” he murmurs in your ear before sliding two fingers back in you.

—- Only with you, Will reveals how intimidating he is in the bedroom. But in front of others, he’s the most kind respectful gentleman anyone has ever met. All your friends and everyone in your family loves him. He quickly picks up on social dynamics and easily blends himself into the environment as if he was always a part of it. You can find Will at family barbecues, bonding with your uncles over different cuts of meat and taking over the grill, which your father never allows but Will’s charmingly convincing.

—- Will always plays house and dress up with your younger family members. He takes it seriously too. You best believe he’s rocking a blue lid and red lippie with confidence after playing makeovers. 

—- Will comes with you to all your social events, he just loves being around you and hyping you up in all settings. You can find him at clubs, bars and music festivals, right behind you, jamming out and spreading the good vibes. He’s even buying you and your girls rounds of bottomless cocktails at brunch.

—- Will’s a fencing prodigy, of course. He also practices MMA. His strength, determination and will is unmatched. You love sitting in the audience of his matches when he’s given trophies, standing the breathless, T-shirtless and sweaty, dressed in his little fitted shorts showing all his business, knowing that’s all yours.

—- After matches in the ring or on the mats, Will just wants to cozy himself up under your shirt, cuddling you and weakly lying against your skin. 

[v-era-18]

Red Licorice: Chapter 11 - Black Widow

“You sure as hell won’t tell me what to do!” - (Y/n) (L/n) 

11

(Y/n) rushed into her home filled with elation for the first time in weeks. Glancing along the clock in the living room corner, she looked to see the time. At three thirty-six pm, she had about three hours to wash, shave, and lightly press her hair out. Now normally the girl was reluctant to bring out the hot comb and curlers, but for god's sake did she not want this moment to show out for her crush to pass her by.

And possibly make a certain Macher's eyes wander towards her. Of course, she wouldn't admit it out loud though. 

Moving through the kitchen she whipped out a fresh banana from the fridge along with two eggs and mayo. Placing the items on the table, she hurried to the bathroom pulling out an array of hair products for her scalp Blue Magic and Hot Six Oil Before grabbing the portable hair dryer. Making sure she had all the materials she began mixing the hair mask in a bowl on the kitchen counter, not only would this ensure more stretch of her hair for her silk press, but it would also add extra shine as well. 

While dispersing and covering sections of the mask unto her hair, she quickly went over the various items in her closet in her head. What the hell was she supposed to wear at a party? It would be her first time at a house party and she wanted to make sure she was doing everything right. Maybe she should wear the skirt again. As she thought about it she quickly dismissed it, she didn't want the others to think she didn't have any more clothes. The goal was to most definitely wear something eye catching, irresistible to the male gaze. 

Thinking back to her father’s vintage worn out shirts, there was an oversized tee that was faded black with a baseball tee, and remembering the dusty blue daisy dukes from her mother that could complete the look. Maybe she could cut the shirt and crop it like she's always done. Firm in her decision she went back to her hair making sure it was fully covered before setting up a hot comb in the kitchen with heat protectant. The plan was to press her hair to silk threads to last, so that way it'll be nice and fresh for the party.

(Y/N) entered the darkened bathroom, closing the door swiftly behind her. Switching on the bathroom light, the built-in shower radio crackled to life, filling the small space with the smooth melody of an old R&B song. The raven-haired girl stared at her reflection briefly, the lyrics of the song echoing in her mind: 

The girl is mine.

 The familiar scent of Nag Champa incense, a relic from the metaphysical store her mother used to frequent before her untimely demise, filled the air, adding a comforting yet bittersweet touch to the room.

She sighed deeply, pulling her hair into a loose bun to keep it out of the way. This afternoon was a timely transformation, containing a ritual she both dreaded and cherished. Wash Day. She turned on the shower, waiting for the water to reach the perfect temperature, steam beginning to fill the room.

(Y/N) stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over her skin, washing away the stress of the day. She reached for her favorite shampoo, working it into her scalp with practiced ease. The rich lather and the soothing scent of lavender filled her senses. Next, she applied a generous amount of conditioner, detangling her curls with a wide-toothed comb. Each stroke felt like a gentle caress, unraveling the knots not just in her hair, but in her mind as well.

After rinsing out the conditioner, she reached for her body wash, a luxurious shea butter blend. She massaged it into her skin, reveling in the creamy texture and the way it left her skin feeling soft and hydrated. The shower water flowed over her, creating a symphony of splashing sounds that combined with the music from the radio, creating a serene atmosphere.

With her skin thoroughly cleansed, (Y/N) carefully shaved her legs and underarms, the razor gliding smoothly over her skin thanks to the rich lather. The process was almost meditative, each motion deliberate and calming. Once finished, she rinsed off and turned off the water, stepping out into the steam-filled bathroom.

She patted her skin dry with a plush towel, the scent of the Nag Champa incense still lingering in the air. (Y/N) then applied her favorite body oil, a mixture of coconut and jojoba oils, working it into her skin with gentle, circular motions. The oil left her skin glowing and deeply moisturized. She followed up with a thick layer of cocoa butter lotion, sealing in the moisture and leaving her skin feeling silky smooth.

Next came her hair. (Y/N) unraveled her bun and divided her hair into sections, applying a leave-in conditioner and heat protectant. She used a blow dryer with a comb  attachment, carefully drying each section. The heat was just right, transforming her wet curls into soft, wavy tendrils landing on towards her mid back.

The routine was almost complete when the shrill ring of the phone cut through the peaceful atmosphere. It came from the kitchen, startling (Y/N). She froze, the sound jarring against the serene atmosphere  she had just created. The phone rang again, insistently. There was a brief toil of her decision weighing down on her currently, the last couple of times she answered the phone it didn't bode well for her in the end. The only result of a fairly ‘happy ending’ was with the masked man holding her and touching the most intimate parts of her body. 

At first she opted to just ignore it, continuing her routine starting to plug in her curlers and securing her hair with silver clips. They were split off into groups of four, freshly blown out hair ready to be turned into silky threads. She began to grab her hot comb when the sharp sound of the phone stung her ears once more.The telltale ring of the house phone set her heart in a frenzy. As her heart hammered in her chest, she glanced at the door of the bathroom weighing her options. It was only the afternoon, not even six o'clock yet, still bright outside. There was plenty of light to deem it safe for now.  Wrapping herself in her towel, she hurried out of the bathroom, fresh oil glistening on her skin. As she approached the kitchen, the ringing seemed louder, more urgent. She hesitantly picked up the phone, her breath bated with anticipation. 

"Hello?" she answered, her voice trembling slightly. The line crackled for a moment, and then there was silence. She strained to hear, but there was only the faint sound of static. “Hello? Aunt Gia is that you?” 

There was shuffling over the phone along with the sound of a hushed voice quite distant from the mouth piece. The clawing feeling of the need to hang up started to rise within her, after the past two days she really shouldn’t be answering any phone calls. Nerves rising she tried to be rational, maybe it was one of her friends nervous to check in on her after everything that happened this morning. There was also the possibility of her aunt wanting to check in on her knowing that she should be home by now, or possibly Randy making sure about the time. 

Honestly the killer would have to be stupid to call her in broad daylight. So with a soft sigh the girl tried one more time. 

“Randy is that you–,”

“IF YOU MENTION THAT IDIOT IN MY PRECENCE AGAIN I WILL SLIT HIS FUCKING THROAT UNDERSTAND?!” 

(Y/n) froze on the spot, her heart accelerating at an abnormal pace as she quickly covered herself more in the towel, feeling a familiarity of the night terror from the other night. Feeling the heated shame swell within her with being so careless she turned her head back and forth, looking around the kitchen and living area to see anything out of place. It was horrible that she was wearing even less clothing than the nightmare she had before, the last thing she wanted was a repetition of…. dubious affection. She quickly took notice of the knife's all being within the rack still untouched from the morning breakfast Gia cooked her this morning. Grabbing one quickly, she made way to the living room, hovering slightly to the front door, just in case she needed to make a quick run for it. 

“I said, do you understand (Y/n)?” The killer growled into the phone. 

The girl began to slowly nod only to realize that he couldn't see her, or at least she hoped not, and proceeded to answer, “Y-yes…I understand.” 

“Good girl,” She heard the praise over the phone causing her thighs to clench slightly, taking note that she was still very much naked underneath her towel. Humiliation and shame emerged from the reactions her body emitted, her core starting to throb along with the heated condensation down below. Swallowing hard, she gripped the knife tighter, grounding herself back to the current situation. “Now that we've gotten the unpleasantries out of the way, I would like to apologize for my behavior in the bathroom two nights ago–” 

“Is this some kind of joke?” She uttered into the phone, her frustration rising. The feeling of deja vu grew strong, the recounter of the vivid sleep situation that continued to haunt her was now occurring in real time. The shower, the phone call, the apology….the only thing missing was the couch.  “I've already lived this scenario…..where are you? I'm going to call the police and make a run for it, clothes or not–“

“You don’t have any clothes on? What an interesting fact to share with a killer over the phone ya little tease.” 

(Y/n) paused with her hand on the door, simply frozen in place. How was she making so many dumb mistakes? Telling the killer that she was scantily clothed? Why did she make the assumption that he could even see her? Because in the dream he was within the house? Was her fear really clouding her judgment? 

“You…you can't see me?” 

“If it makes you feel better I unfortunately can’t, I have ….other things to attend to at the moment.” The soothing voice of the male drew her in, a weight slowly leaving her shoulders at the brief confession. It was a good thing he couldn’t see her, and even to throw in the fact that he wasn't there as well. “Although it doesn't mean I don't want to see you any less precious. Don't get yourself all riled up now, we're just having a conversation.”

“A conversation? Why? What do you want from me? Listen if I said or did anything the past to warrant this I’m so sorry–” 

“Woah. Slow down, you never did anything wrong. In fact, out of the whole town you seem to have a good head on your shoulders…hence why I have a request.” 

(Y/n) scoffed bitterly, “You're asking me for something after killing my best friend? Do you hear how ridiculous that is?!” 

(Y/n) felt herself shake slightly in her towel, her nerves had caused her to quickly make an error regarding the simple information spewed from her lips. Her face was warm, eyes beginning to glass over in fear for what the strange man wanted from her. One minute it seemed as though he wanted to kill her easy and simple. Now he was trying to soothe and apologize for his behavior? As if his apology would excuse the death of Casey and near death experiences of her and Sidney. Just what the hell was going through the mind of this ghost faced killer? 

“When you put it like that you do have a point sweetheart, although it wasn't my intention to scare you…let's remind ourselves…who attacked first and got in the way.” 

“Wha-what do you mean–”

“ You aren’t my target….you just happen to place yourself at the scene of the crime. Hence why I’m getting to the other point as to why I’m calling.” The man growled into the phone, “Don’t go to Machers Party tonight.” 

The girl paused for a second, her heart pumping, “Who said I was going tonight? How do you know I was even invited?” (Y/n) was starting to grow weary with just how much the male knew about her. First he accused her of getting in the way of Sidney’s murder claiming she’s not a target, now he’s telling her not to go to Stu’s house for the party? 

Just what did this guy want from her?

A part of her wants to feel thankful that she wasn’t on the man’s hit list, however her brow furrowed in worry as to why he specifically chose to spare her. What could she have done to warrant such attention from the mysterious male either way? Did she express kindness to him and decided to press it forward? 

The girl's mind wandered to the night in the bathroom. The cool sensation of the knife dragging up her thigh, the protruding length constricted in his pants brushing against her-

“Earth to (Y/n)! Didja hear me?”

“Huh?”

The male scoffed impatiently on the other end of the line, “I said it doesn't matter how I know, you’re not going. Now you're going to call that nerd Meeks and tell him you’re no longer going after this call. You’re going to stay your pretty like behind home and–”

“No.”

There was a pause. 

“No?” The strange man's tone seemed to mock (Y/N)’s abrupt rejection of staying . 

“What did you just say (N/n)?” His playful tone transformed into a malicious warning. However the teen girl gripped the cord in her grasp tightly, her pink palms turning white with vengeance. 

She wasn’t going to allow the killer the satisfaction of bossing her around. Creep or not. She knew what he was doing, he wanted her to let her guard down, to believe that he’s on her side and that he means no harm. Only for him to come into her home later and kill or possibly rape her. As a horror fanatic she wasn’t dumb. What kind of killer who works alone as well as his stature comes into a party full of teens and starts killing them all? He wasn’t tall or as big as Micheal Myers or Jason Vorhees. He’d be walking into a suicide mission, the teens at the party would overrule him easily and he would be caught by the police within the next few minutes with them on patrol around Woodsburro. 

“Nice try, I’m not falling for that trick! I will admit you had me for a second, wanting me to believe you meant me no harm so I would stay  home so you would have the opportunity to kill me!” Her voice grew louder and more confident with each sentence spewing from her lips in distaste, “I’m done letting people tell me what to do! You sure as hell won’t tell me what to do! ”

The masked man made an uncomfortable sound, one that made her heart thump in her ears with how desperate the tone initially sounded as it vibrated against her ear canal. “Precious, please just listen–”

“No! Everyone has had a chance to speak for me! It’s time for my moment to take a stand for myself, I’m going to that party! I might even get drunk and make out with a guy or two while I’m at it!” The proclamation was a bold one, one to simply rile the dangerous masked man on the other side for good measure to display how serious she was about going. A part of her wanted the imagery to spark something in the male, the one that seemed to have a connection to her somehow on the other end. 

“WHAT DID YOU JUST–”

In fear and newfound determination (Y/n) abruptly hung up the phone silencing the killer's response to her proclamation. For two minutes she stood there staring at the phone, wondering if she made the biggest mistake in her entire life-or the most life changing. She just got done telling off a serial killer in order to go to her first house party, and oddly–it felt so good.

She gave it another three minutes to see if the masked man would call again before heavinging a sigh of satisfaction. He possibly was in a fit of rage at her at the moment— after all he did seem like the type that didn't want to be spoken over. Not only that if he truly was planning something tonight, he wouldn’t be able to follow through with his plans due to her being there, a double edge sword waiting to slay him at each point. Looking around the house to make sure there wasn't anything odd and out of place, she deemed the house safe enough for her to finish off her routine. Due to the phone call she had an hour and thirty minutes left to get ready. 

Now, where was she?

Adjusting her towel in the kitchen, she sassed walked her way back to her room in elation for the second time this week. Head seat on giving herself a night she wouldn't forget as well as her peers. 

If only she knew she was indeed correct, this wasn't going to be a night she was never going to forget as long as she lived.

~ ☿ ~

Sidney rested her head against the window of the police cruiser. The town was currently desolate, only a few people here and there grabbing what they needed before the new impending curfew. Signs were hung up in window sills in explanation, turns out business owners were taking things seriously as well, and who could blame them? A killer was at large and it could be anyone. The last thing they want to do is be open and they come in blazing for a slice or dice. 

“God look at this place,” Sidney grimaced, “it's The Town That Dreaded Sundown.” 

Dewy chuckled to make light of dark circumstances, “Hey, I saw that movie. Based on a true story, ‘bout some killer in Texas.” 

“Hey Sid, just think if they make a movie about this, who's gonna play you?” Tatum smiled. The strawberry blonde was trying to make light of current events happening lately, Stu hasn’t been answering her calls after the invitation in the courtyard, and she basically had to endure evil looks from many students today in light of things. She honestly could feel the weight of her decisions weighing down on her. 

Tatum didn't want to be viewed as the girl who went behind her friends back and slept with their boyfriends, nor the one that lashes out because of her insecurities. The girl did have many faults of her own to deal with, many including her own self esteem, but  Casey’s dairy added more problems than she could deal with. And was that was putting things lightly 

What happened to her? She used to be okay with just being herself, dressing up and ready to hang out with friends. When did she start becoming boy crazy and having a vendetta against her two friends? The jealousy and malice were things developed over time against (Y/n) and Casey. They seemed to have so much, loving figures, adoring friends, beauty….

Even though (Y/n) never looked at her potential fully, it was no secret she was beautiful. So when Tatum assessed the way Stu watched her over and over again, it clicked but she didn't want to affirm it. She didn't want to know that the girl harbored her crush's heart, that he was secretly wishing it was her he was having sex with, kissing, loving on without actually saying the words back to her. 

“Oh god no…..,” Sidney whispered, “Don’t bring that idea up to (Y/n), she most definitely would tell me the details.” The brunette paused, watching her best friend's smile drop instantly at the girl's name. She winched realizing her mistake of salted wounds still being harbored. 

“A shit-shoot, I’m sorry Tatum-” 

“There's nothing to be sorry about ....I did this to myself. I got in the way and now,” She turned to Sidney, a sad expression etched upon her lips, “I have to face the repercussions.” 

Dewy peered through the mirror sadly at her sister. He wished there was only more he could do for her suffering but what could he do? Half of the things she was referring to he hadn't experienced himself. 

He brings the car to a stop in front of the police station, turning around and giving the girls the most brotherly smile he can muster for the situation. “Well to continue our conversations from before,” He said turning to Sid, “I see you as a young Meg Ryan myself.” 

Sidney offered a small upturn of the lips in  gratitude, “Thanks Dewey, but with my luck they’d cast Tori Spelling.” 

The two girls get out of the car making their way to the supermarket across the street. The Grocery store was a buzz for many teens grabbing quick snacks and beers for an apparent occasion. Sideny could hear the hustle and bustle about horror movies as well as the documentary marathon. The two grab a buggy from the bin before making their way through the sliding glass doors.  Unfortunately for Tatum it was the news about something else that drew her attention. 

“What should we wear to the party tonight? I'm pretty sure Evan will be there, after all it's not everyday Macher throws a party..” A brunette with glasses whispered to her redheaded friend over by the ice cream department they were passing. 

Yes, right the party….

The one Stu invited them to show no hard feelings. The only reason Tatum grew interested was the promise to talk things over there with him. Why? A small part of her hoped for the truth: an explanation as to why things fell apart between the two of them so fast. Although the girl assertions to the male with being responsible for the current scandal, she simply didn't want to acknowledge her part in the drama. 

Sidney looks at Tatum, her face growing queasy, “Do you think Billy will be there tonight?” 

“He better not be, although I didn't tell Stu to keep his mouth shut when I had the chance, I think we can live without “ Everybody's All American” for one night.” Tatum snided looking at a pair of chips before making her way down the aisle.  

The girls started piling in a whole bunch of junk food and treats for the night. Taking note of the long line of teens at the cash register, due to the curfew the store would be closing in a few minutes. 

Sidney’s mind traveled back to a certain girl with curly hair, “Do you think (Y/n) will be there?” 

Tatum paused for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest before responding, “(Y/n) and parties don’t go together. We all know that.” 

The brunette started to nod in agreement but thought better of it, “But what if she decides to come? Stu did invite us out as an apologie was well you know, wouldn't it make sense he convinced her as well—” 

“Do you honestly think after us being shit friends that she would actually want to be around us?” The strawberry blonde hissed with venom, her eyes seemed steamy at the thought of the curly headed girl staring at her, “I-I mean after what I did? After what me and Stu did? After what me and you did?!” 

Sidney frowned and paused with a two-liter of Pepsi in her arms, “What happened that night at that sleepover wasn't my idea, let's be clear about that.” 

It was true. Tatum was the one who decided to come up with the plan to corner (Y/n) in the first place, Sidney only had a few small concerns with her and Billy’s friendship, but the way Tatum made it seem like the curly girl had ill intentions. Sidney will admit that she went along with it, but she honestly thought it would be discussed in a more appropriate manner. Never did she want the outcome to happen that night the way it did with (Y/n) crying into Casey’s arms the rest of the night. The girl was a lot of things with her friends, some might even consider her a follower at some moments. However, this discussion and the way it was headed between the two of them had to set matters straight. 

Sidney loved Tatum, with her whole heart and soul; but she needed to learn to take accountability. 

Tatum paused the cart, her face growing pink, “You had concerns just like me! I thought it was the right thing to do!” 

“Your jealousy made you cloud your judgment–” 

“I’m not jealous!”

Onlookers in the store stopped and paused looking over at the two girls. Sidney stiffened watching the attention being drawn to the two of them before hearing the faint whispers. Great, the last thing she wanted was for word to get around about her and Tatum having a disagreement. 

Sighing and growing tired of her friend's display of fanatics, Sidney grabbed the cart from the blonde and made way to the line. It seemed like a moment for Tatum to recollect herself before following, wrapping her arms around herself in comfort. A few girls were glancing over, whispers exchanged with giggles. 

Changing the subject back to herself, Sidney whispered  “Billy’s right you know. Whenever he touches me I just can't relax.”

Tatum slightly rolled her eyes, “So you have a few intimacy issues as a result of your mother’s  untimely death.” Despite the tense air between the two she proceeds to place a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder, “It’s no big deal. You’ll thaw it out.” 

“Yeah, but he has been so patient with me you know with all the sex stuff. How many guys would put up with a girlfriend who’s sexually anorexic?” 

“Randy…” The blonde uttered. 

“Huh?” 

“Billy and his penis don't deserve you, all right?” Tatum spoke up disregarding her thought a moment earlier. “If sex is the thing stopping your relationship then maybe….” 

Sideny glanced at her best friend, her heart hammering—waiting for the words she was anticipating from her friend's mouth “Then maybe?”

“Then maybe you two should bring your items forward,” A checkout lady cut into the conversation, “We close in five, and there's a line behind you.” 

The two girls' faces grew warm and quickly proceeded to place their items quickly onto the checkout counter. 

The elderly woman shook her head, displeased, “Kids these days.” 

~ ☿ ~

Dewey stalked up to the station quickly, trying his best to check in with the sergeant before picking up the two girls in time for curfew. It had honestly been a long day after so many things were happening down at the police station.  After the many interviews from the press as well as the occasional suspect pointed here and there, it was safe to say the other officers had a lot of pressure on this particular case. 

A lot more than the past two large ones they had in the past might add.

Taking a puff out of his cigarette Sheriff Burke glared at the upcoming deputy, “Dewey? Where the hell have you been!” 

“I was keeping an eye on Sidney, uh…” The Sheriff looked down at Dewey's hands spotting the ice cream cone clearly displeased with the sight. If the male wasn't so concerned about his sister's best friend he wouldn't feel embarrassed, but putting theories together to figure out who the killer was worked him quite the appetite. To save face the deputy opted to distract his boss from his silly display, “Thought you quit?”

“I did.” Burke admitted, taking another long drag, “But damn it Dewey, Vital Phone just faxed us. Those calls are listed to Neil Prescott, Sidneys father. He made the calls with a cellular phone. It's been confirmed.” 

Dewey shook his head, taking a lick out of his ice cream in thought. There was no way Mr. Prescott would do something of this magnitude, especially to his own daughter. “There's no way his cellular coulda been cloned?”. Technology was advancing each day, and there was a possibility that the man was being framed with devices that could question his integrity. Although Neil had a big job and was a well respected man, there was always someone who looked down at him here and there. A now single dad trying to raise his daughter by his lonesome.

Sheriff  blew out smoke, frustrated, “There's more. Guess what tomorrow is. The anniversary of his wife's death.” Dewey pursed his lips together in understanding, the pieces were all there and laid out, “ We’ll keep the roadblocks and the curfew in effect through the night, if he's not picked up by morning, then we’ll do a house-to-house. Boy I hate to say it but Miss Weathers was onto something…even if she went about it in an illegal manner and disrupted the peace this morning’. ” 

Dewey nodded then paused, thinking back to a certain curly headed girl from before, “But sir, what does this have to do with (Y/n) (L/n)? The killer was reported to have  an infatuation with her. What would Neil Presscott want with her?” 

Burke looked around to make sure there's nobody around before continuing, “I have a theory, and I'm only able to pinpoint itr from what I've seen lately. Two weeks ago I saw Neil with another woman during lunch.. They seemed to be acquainted with one another.” 

Dewey cocked a brow, not fully understanding, “Another woman? What does the other woman have to do with (Y/n)” 

The Sheriff scoffed, “It has a lot to do with her if the lady is her legal guardian and family.” 

A gasp left the male's lips in shock and mortification, his ice cream being lowered in his hand. “You don't mean–” 

“You know exactly who I mean Dewey! The woman he’s been seeing is no other than Gia (L/n) , the sick bastard is getting rid of all obstacles! I'm going to get Montana to get her to our office in an hour.” 

Dewey shook his head in disagreement, the urge to debunk the theory of Gia being involved with the man itched at his tongue. Miss (L/n) was a friendly face to all who knew her, to even think that she could be involved with a criminal willingly for some grander scheme made his blood boil. What about the many times she brought freshly made cookies over the Riley home when Tatum wasn't feeling well, or the times she wished him luck with his training to become a deputy? Was the Sheriff really going to ignore the women's integrity?

What about her own niece (Y/n), the only living fraction she has left of her brother that was shot and killed in an alleyway? Did she honestly seem like the kind of woman who would set her whole world to be murdered in the mad man's house? For love? For new devotion?

There was no way Gia knew anything about Neil Prescott's involvement. Dewey knew that for a fact. 

“No, Gia would never Sheriff,” Dewey took a bite out of his cone, icecream the sickly sweet substance dribbled down his lips comically. Burke turned up his lip, the cigar moving long with his mood. “I mean, Miss (L/n) is one of the nicest laddies in town! What reason would she risk dealing with such a dangerous man…especially if..” 

The sheriff noticed the Deputies' hesitation to finish.  

“Now I'm not saying she's involved, Dewey. I'm stating facts about the man and what we know. Picking up Gia is a safety precaution and questions need to be done in order to see if we are missing anything.” Burke released a puff of smoke watching as stores started to close early for the evening. A particular couple is hurrying to their car, the pregnant wife lugging some groceries as best as she can while the husband loads everything up into the trunk. “For all we know he could be using her to make himself seem like a normal man trying to move on from his dead wife.” 

Dewey nodded, finishing off the cone before tossing it, his brows furring in thought, “Have you contacted the bureau?” 

“They believe he might be out of state by now. We’ll keep the roadblocks and curfew in effect through the night. If he's not picked up by morning—we’ll do house to house.” 

“You think he might still be in town? Maybe he's hiding off somewhere secluded?”

Burke huffed, “He'd have to be crazy. Where's Sidney and (Y/n)?”

Dewey frowned, thinking back to the horrendous cries of the afro haired girl from earlier that morning. “ Sidney’s with my sister, and (Y/n)...I haven't really seen her since this morning. Should I bring them in? Especially (Y/n), the girl has been through alot–”

“Hold off for now, just stay close to them. As far as (Y/n) is concerned don’t let her know anything pertaining to Gia. We don't want any assumptions to arise between the two.” 

It was understandable. The last thing they needed was wind about Gia to reach the teen girl and for her to think the worst. The bond between the two was obviously strong, a case like this and secrets being unearthed could shatter the foundation between two family members that was all that they have left. 

“Sidney and (Y/n) will be staying over Stu Machers tonight.” Dewey informed stiffly. 

“Watch em’. Don't let on— just keep your eye out.” 

“Yes Sir.”

[e-dubbc11]

Beneath the Surface

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: mentions of emotional and physical abuse. Comfort and fluff. Nightmares

Word Count: 1.2K-ish

Summary: You had a nightmare last night, Billy takes you to your favorite place that always calms you and makes you feel better.

A/N: The beach is one of my favorite places, especially the beaches at home. I’m currently on vacation and the beaches here are pretty fantastic too but there’s no place like home. I’ll put a pic of one of my favorite beaches at sunset close to home at the end of this. I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

In between the vibrant energy of a hot New England summer and a cold, desolate winter, after the crowds have gone away and they’ve locked up their summer homes for the season, there was a period of time during late summer of unspoiled tranquility.

That was your favorite time of year to be at the beach. Under a canopy of blue with hues of deep pink, red, and orange, the world seemed to stand still as you listened to the gentle lapping of the waves against the wet sand.

The weather was still warm, a little drier, and a bit more comfortable. Over the grassy dunes, the soft sand stretched out in both directions while small flecks of quartz glistened in the sand beneath the early evening sun.

The soothing symphony of waves crashing against the shore continued to pull you deeper and deeper into a trance like state. The sea looked like a rippling blue blanket with all of its twists and turns, the noise echoed off the rocks, resonated in the air and floated into your ears before it disappeared and the relaxing song started to play all over again.

This was the place that always made you feel better.

No matter what time of year it was, this is where you would come to escape him. The serenity of this place cancelled out the pain, the yelling, name calling, and the bad dreams. But now it was a different type of escape, a happy one where there weren’t any tears to stain your cheeks.

Rupturing the tranquility, you heard the screech of a gull overhead; it startled you and caused you to flinch but the hand enclosed over yours, squeezed you tightly.

The soft voice you heard whispered reassuringly that it was ok, and “he can’t hurt you anymore, sweet girl.” His warm body there next to yours, cradling, comforting you and always keeping you out of harm’s way.

The sand sifted in between your toes as you watched the sun dip lower and lower toward the horizon where the sea and sky dissolve into each other.

The rolling waves lightly crashed against the shore bringing large clumps of seaweed with them and the salty sea breeze gently kicked up tiny grains of sand that ended up stuck in the short bristles of his beard.

His endless brown eyes focused on the dark beauty of the hungry sea, a slight smile stretched across his face, and you watched him wiggle his toes in the warm smooth sand.

He relished in the harmony too. He was very content.

Billy wanted to see the ocean you loved so much as a child, where you came to get away from everything, and where nothing bad had ever happened to you.

He had felt so helpless last night because he couldn’t stop the nightmare from happening, watching the tension grip your body, your knuckles white as you tightly clutched the sheet in your hands, and smothered by your own screams.

He would do anything to keep you from having them but still the sobs tore loose, freeing themselves from inside your throat and echoing throughout the bedroom.

Murmuring soft sounds and words to calm you, Billy tried his best to soothe you from your nightmare. He knew what it was like to be vulnerable while asleep, to fight going to sleep because he didn’t know what would be waiting for him when he closed his eyes but he didn’t care about that right now. It wasn’t about him; it was about you which is why he brought you here.

Billy remembered you talking about your favorite beach, how the music of the waves would sing to you and make you feel better any time that monster hurt you, called you “stupid,” or “ugly,” or threaten to tear you so far down that you couldn’t get back up and no other man would want you. “No one will want someone as damaged as you except me.”

There weren’t any tears this time. As long as you had Billy, you would be ok.

The canvas of bright colors across the sky kissed the high points of your face and melted away the remnants of your nightmare. You looked over at Billy, leaned in close and kissed him on the cheek. He turned slowly to face you, a wide Cheshire cat smile stretched across his lips while the familiar scent of his spicy cologne drifted past your nose.

“Thank you, Billy.” You whispered. “For this.”

You brought your gaze toward the dimming blue sky.

“I wish I could do more, sweet girl. I wish I could replace every memory of him with something else but I can’t.” He said with an alarming edge to his voice.

Billy’s handsome features twisted with rage as he clenched his fist.

Your heart swelled at the thought of Billy wanting to take all of your pain away, wanting to make all of your nightmares disappear forever, never to come back.

“It’s ok, baby. This is my favorite place, and you’re my favorite person.” You said. “Look at our view! It’s perfect!” You exclaimed. “I don’t need anything else. I love you.”

He pulled you into his lap, moved a stray piece of hair away from your face, and touched his forehead to yours. The anger in his eyes was suddenly replaced with love and affection before his lips collided with yours.

He tasted like the sea salt in the air, you could feel it in his hair too as your nails gently raked against his scalp. Parting your lips with his tongue, Billy deepened his kiss, pulling you in tight by the waist, his long agile fingers danced up and down your spine, silently telling you that he loved you too.

Every time Billy kissed you, touched you, held your hand, or even just smiled at you, he was replacing bad memories with good ones, mending the pieces of your shattered soul you deemed unfixable.

He dropped all of his responsibilities today to try and make you feel better, bringing you to your favorite place two states away. And he would do it every day if you let him, if you wanted him to.

The sea was forever vast, uncharted and in a way, reminded you a lot of Billy. It was dark, beautiful, and there was so much more beneath the surface if you took time to unearth the possibilities of the unfamiliar.

Both of you were broken in your own way and still navigating the emotional and metaphorical caverns of Davy Jones’ locker, looking for those priceless treasures within each other that you can’t live without.

You would have to take a deep breath and dive deeper than you’ve ever been before but this time you wouldn’t be alone and promised to pull each other up when you needed air.

His love made it possible for you to breathe again and you would be forever grateful for it…always.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

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If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.