#I don’t know what mind tricks I just pulled but I feel like a GOD

[theunholyvirginemilyprentiss]

Random dude slid into my Tumblr DMs this morning. He came with the intention of being nasty. He left a Criminal Minds fan. I am like a missionary, spreading the word of God, except the word of God is Spencer Reid infodumping. I understood the assignment. 🫡

Live footage of me blocking and deleting:

Good luck, babe!

In case y’all don’t believe me:

8 mins later…

[littlelamy]

could you write more angst for rafe? I'm craving to be sad, maybe bc he promised he wouldn't do coke anymore and he was doing well but one day he lies to her and goes to a party to sniff some and then she finds out and maybe she's pregnant but he doesn't know yet 😁

a/n: thank you so much for sending a request!💗

you sit on the edge of the bed, fingers lightly tracing your stomach, the softest swell of new life beneath your skin. rafe’s words echo in your mind, the promises he made when you told him you couldn’t do this if he didn’t change. “i won’t touch it again,” he swore, those bright blue eyes locked on yours, so full of hope and fear and desperation.

and for a while, he’d stuck to it. he’d been good. you believed him.

but tonight, something felt off. the texts had come slower than usual, his answers short, distracted. he was out with topper and kelce, just for a drink, he said. you wanted to trust him—god, you wanted to believe that this time was different.

yet, the gnawing in your stomach hadn’t eased up since he left, a sense of dread you couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself it was nothing. just anxiety. just your mind playing tricks.

until your phone buzzes, a single message lighting up the screen. it’s topper.

you might wanna come get your boy.

your heart sinks. you stare at the screen, dread pooling in your gut. you can feel the blood drain from your face, your fingers shaking as you type back a response.

where is he?

the seconds stretch into an eternity as you wait for the reply, the silence in your room deafening. when it finally pings, the answer is simple.

party at kelce’s.

you stare at the message, the words burning into your brain. you don’t even need to ask to know what rafe is doing there. kelce’s parties are notorious for one thing—coke. it’s everywhere, flowing as freely as the alcohol.

and rafe…he promised you. he promised he’d never touch that shit again.

you stand up, legs shaking as you grab your keys off the dresser, the weight of your growing secret pressing against your ribs. you haven’t told him yet. you hadn’t even planned to tell him tonight. but now, every instinct screams at you to get to him, to stop him before he ruins everything.

the drive to kelce’s house feels endless, the night blurring outside the window as your mind races with thoughts of what you’ll find when you get there. rafe had done so well these last few months. he had tried—really tried—and you were so proud of him for it. but addiction doesn’t just disappear, no matter how much you both wanted it to.

your hands tighten around the steering wheel as you pull up to the house. the bass of the music pulses through the air, shaking the ground beneath your feet as you step out of the car. the usual crowd is scattered around the yard, red solo cups in hand, laughter and shouting cutting through the night. but your eyes aren’t on them. you’re only focused on finding him.

as you push your way through the crowd, the smell of alcohol and smoke thick in the air, your heart pounds in your chest, a sickening rhythm that echoes the dread building inside you. you glance around, scanning the faces, searching for that familiar blond head.

and then, you see him.

he’s leaning against the bar, back turned to you, and your breath catches in your throat. even from a distance, you can see it—the slight twitch in his movements, the telltale signs that you know all too well. he’s on edge, more animated than usual, and you know. you don’t even need to get closer to know what he’s done.

he’s broken his promise.

you feel a wave of nausea crash over you as you step forward, heart hammering in your chest. every step feels heavy, like you’re walking through water, slow and inevitable. when you reach him, you grab his arm, pulling him around to face you.

“rafe,” you say, your voice trembling, and he looks at you, startled.

his pupils are blown wide, the usual spark in his blue eyes dimmed, replaced by something darker, something you’ve seen before but prayed you’d never have to see again.

he opens his mouth to say something, but the words don’t come. instead, he stumbles over his thoughts, his hand going to his nose instinctively, wiping at it.

“what are you doing here?” he slurs, blinking at you in confusion. “i thought you were—”

“you promised me,” you cut him off, your voice sharp, louder than you intended. “you said you wouldn’t do this again, rafe.”

he flinches at the accusation, his face falling as he stares at you. “i wasn’t—i didn’t mean to. it was just…just a little. i’m fine.”

you feel the tears burning at the corners of your eyes, anger and hurt bubbling up inside you. “you lied to me.”

he tries to reach for you, but you step back, your body trembling with rage. “don’t. don’t touch me.”

rafe’s face crumples, and for a second, you almost feel sorry for him. almost. but then you remember why you’re here. you remember the promise he made, the way he swore up and down that he would change, for you, for your future.

and now, that future feels like it’s slipping through your fingers.

“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking, but you don’t want to hear it. you don’t want to hear his apologies, not when he’s high, not when he’s like this.

“sorry’s not enough, rafe,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “it’s not enough this time.”

he looks at you, desperation in his eyes, and you can see the fear creeping in—the fear of losing you, of losing everything. but it’s too late for that now. the damage is done.

“i’m done,” you say, the words feeling foreign in your mouth, like they don’t belong there. “i can’t keep doing this.”

rafe’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head, panic flashing across his face. “no, no, please. don’t say that. you don’t mean that.”

“i do.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but the weight of the words hangs in the air between you. “i can’t keep lying to myself, pretending this is okay.”

“please,” he begs, stepping closer, his hands shaking. “please, baby, don’t do this. i’ll stop. i’ll get better. i’ll be better. just don’t leave me.”

you swallow, tears blurring your vision as you look at him, this broken boy in front of you, so lost in his own demons that he can’t see how much he’s hurting you. “i don’t know if i can believe you anymore.”

rafe’s face crumples, and for the first time, you see the tears welling up in his eyes, the cracks in his armor finally breaking open. but it doesn’t change anything. it doesn’t fix what he’s done.

“please,” he whispers again, his voice trembling. “i love you.”

your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you almost believe him. but then you remember the ache in your chest, the fear that’s been gnawing at you since the moment you found out you were pregnant. you remember all the nights you spent worrying, wondering if this was the right decision, if you could trust him to be the father your child needed.

and now, standing here, looking at him, you have your answer.

you can’t.

the drive home is a blur, tears streaming down your face as you try to keep it together. you don’t even remember how you made it back, your mind consumed with the weight of what just happened. the house feels empty when you walk inside, the silence suffocating as you collapse onto the couch, sobs wracking your body.

you’re pregnant. you’re carrying his child, and he doesn’t even know.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — ITOSHI SAE x FEM READER

Sae might have rethought putting a ring on your finger if he knew husband duties included losing sleep to your overactive imagination. 

wc — 500

tags — married au 

“Can you stop squirming?” 

Sae’s annoyed with you, but you can’t help it. You’re not normally afraid of the dark, but sometimes your mind plays tricks on you. 

Around you, the night stretches on like a kitten, soft and velvet. Your eyes have long adjusted to the dark, but your room is poorly designed. Inky shadows collect in every corner, crated by awkwardly shaped shelves and random divots in the wall. 

Like any normal, well-adjusted adult, you have no problem being in darkness. Just a few hours before, you ran a load of laundry without turning the lights on because you didn’t feel like it. But as you’re trying to fall asleep, your idle mind grows restless. 

It starts whispering the kinds of things that make you pull your feet away from the edge of the bed and shrink towards Sae’s comforting, warm body. 

“If you keep this up, I’m going to get my own bedroom,” he tells you. 

You both know it’s an empty threat. How could it not be when you wake up to his arms around you every morning? 

Still, it’s not nice of him to say that, and you let him know. 

“Don’t be mean, I’m scared!” Your grumbling is childish, but there are certain indulgences you’re allowed. 

“You’re too old for this,” he sighs, exasperated, but he lifts his arm so you can tuck in closer along his body. 

Just then, you feel something brush along your leg. You barely stifle a shriek as you forcefully push your body into Sae’s. It’s a hard collision that would knock the breath out of him if he wasn’t a professional soccer player. As it is, he makes a sound of discomfort when your elbow bumps into him. 

Up until now, you’ve been facing outwards, keeping an eye out for anything that might roam in the dark. At this moment, you peek out from under your covers, turning to look at Sae.

His face is entirely unamused. 

You try for a sweet smile, hoping he’ll relent and forgive you as he usually does. To his credit, he only cracks after he forces you to endure a prolonged, awkward stare-off. Then he groans, pinches his nose, and bodily drags you closer so you’re all but on top of him. 

Your head rests against his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you, tucking you into the line of his body. Your legs tangle with his. 

“That better?” He says. “Nothing’s going to get you while I’m here.” 

“Now that you mention it,” you say jokingly, “you are a big, strong football player.” 

A peek at his face reveals what you already suspected. Sae’s cool exterior is hard to crack, but he’s always weak to compliments from his wife. He’s fighting a smile that’s apparent anyway, or perhaps you’re just good at reading him. 

“But you’ve trapped my legs,” you complain. “How am I going to run away if anything happens?” 

“Oh my god-“ Sae shoves a hand over your mouth and muffles any further commentary. “Go to sleep.”

[soobnny]

talk tomorrow — lee heeseung. best friends to lovers. drunken confessions. fluff. (1.1k words)

It takes a single message from Jay reading “Heeseung drunk. Please help” for you to leave the comfort of your bed in favor of picking up your best friend.

He’d told you the night prior that he’d be drinking out with his friends, even asked you to come with him. However, you were a prisoner to your 10-page essay due at midnight so you’d opted out of his invitation – despite his accompanying doe-eyes, pout, and whining. He had taken everything out of his books of “How To Get (Name) To Say Yes” for you to reconsider, but you’d kept a firm stand on wanting to pass your subject.

Though, at 2am, with your essay—not proofread— passed and sent into the void for you to never look at ever again, you had no choice but to get the boy before he makes stupid decisions that’d have him be subject to his friends’ teasing the next day. If Jay’s one text message hadn’t convinced you, Jake’s drunk phone call with Heeseung mumbling your name over and over again would’ve done the trick.

So, clad in pajamas you had every intent on sleeping in, you’re left walking a few minutes away from his destination until you could smell the familiar scent of hard liquor. It doesn’t take a minute of you announcing you’d arrived before Heeseung barges out of the club doors to stumble his way to you and take you in his arms, just like in the movies, back slouched and head draped on your shoulder.

Though, the movies never described how foul alcohol would smell like on a boy’s sweaty body. It made you freak out, along with the thought of the connotations of a drunken boy who could pull whoever he wanted. Had he met a pretty girl?

Had it been Jake, you wouldn’t have minded. You’d even go as far as saying you’d help him, but Heeseung is a different case. Different in that you’re madly in love with him, and you could only ever see Jake as a brother figure.

“(Name)? Is it actually you?” His words come out in a slur, but you don’t miss the tilt of sudden giddiness in the way that he speaks to you.

“He’s been whining about you all night.” Jay’s voice follows from right behind him, peeling the drunk boy away from you who instantly makes grabby hands and lunges right back when Jay lets go. You could hear Heeseung mumbling, “don’t tell her”, against your shoulder.

“Don’t tell me what?” You try to support Heeseung’s wait on you, looking from him to Jay who simply shrugs his shoulders in response. Jake is a compliant drunk at the back with his eyes curtained and hands behind his back so Jay doesn’t scold him.

“That I like you.” He murmurs, low rasp in his voice and arms tightening around you as if to prepare you for the words you had never expected to hear from the boy. You would’ve stumbled in your step had Heeseung not depended most of his weight on you.

Jake’s mouth drops.

“Oh my god. He actually said it.” You could hear Jake’s harsh whispers that Jay desperately tries to shut down, dragging his friend back into the building despite his attempts at trying to see the scene unfold before him.

The door closes, and it’s just you, Heeseung, and the faint music playing from the club.

“Do you actually mean that?” You ask more to yourself, sudden bomb dropped. Apparently, it does not take seconds to comprehend that the boy you’d been in love with since middle school bears the same feelings for you. So, you stand there looking like an idiot with Heeseung stuck to you like his life depends on it.

“Of course I do.” His head perks up, defensive almost, peeling away from you. “Have you not— have you not noticed the way I look at you? How I have all your favorite books memorized, how I know everything about you by heart? I like you so much, (Name). I like you so much that sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe because what is my heart for if not to love you?”

“Hee—”

“How could anyone not love you? You walk into a room, and everyone is captivated by you. Magic is everywhere with you, and I just want to be able to have even just a fraction of who you are. But I could never tell you that. I’m just… I’m just your best friend, right? How could I be anything more?”

His eyes are glossy, and fixated on your lips before he curses himself. “I’m sorry. Are you mad at me?”

“Hee, of course I’m not mad at you. But, can we talk about this tomorrow? I don’t want you to say things you don’t mean.”

“But I do mean everything, baby. And I’ll—” Hiccup. “I’ll say everything again tomorrow, anything you want for you to believe me.”

“Come on, let’s go home. We’ll talk more about this in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’re gonna have a really bad headache tomorrow.”

“Hmm… I heard kisses are a good remedy.”

“Really, now?”

“Mhm.”

His hand dives after yours, walking with you to your apartment minutes away. Your heart flutters in the space between your intertwined fingers. He holds onto you like he knows nothing else. It only makes you smile more.

He’ll settle for handholding tonight.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“Mmm, couldn’t stop thinking about you though. It’s always more fun with you.” Heeseung doesn’t even think of what he’s saying anymore, spewing unfiltered words he’d normally keep hidden until he was sure you felt the same. Maybe it’s because his mind is too busy reeling what it’d be like to be with you, and how your lips could possibly feel like on his.

“Hee.” You warn light-heartedly.

“Okay, tomorrow, tomorrow. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” He repeats like a mantra before sighing out. “Want time to hurry. Wanna know if you feel the same way.”

Heeseung looks lost in his own body when you arrive back into your apartment, but he still has everything memorized—where to take his shoes off, where to sit as you hand him a glass of water to drink, where his spare clothes are.

Your chest feels warm the whole time you help him wash his face. He simply sits there, compliant and behaved which is not how he’s like on a day to day basis, as you run your hands through his face, even after you dry him off with a towel. Heeseung is only a boy with a mind thinking if his everydays could look like this.

He falls asleep after 15 minutes, but his hand never leaves yours, and there’s a little note on your bedtime with lines you could barely recognize as Heeseung’s handwriting.

I meant everything. Talk tomorrow.

[satellitespinner]

MODERN ELLIE HEADCANNONS

modern!ellie who rides a beat up skateboard from when she was 15 everywhere. i mean everywhere your place, jesse’s, class. everywhere !

modern!ellie whose pen is never not in her hand, or deep denim pockets.

modern!ellie who tries to learn cool pen tricks while “finishing” her homework, but ends up hitting you with the pen..

modern!ellie who was your bestfriend before she was your girlfriend. you two were inseparable! (and irritating.)

modern!ellie who never fucking answers her texts.. it’s infuriating.

modern!ellie who sells weed on the side of working at a small café on campus. (she doesn’t like Starbucks) ((as she should))

modern!ellie who majors in astrophysics! that girl has been in love with space since she could talk. infact! her first word was planet!

modern!ellie who was unfortunately in the foster care system until she was adopted by the lovely man we all know as joel miller!!

modern!ellie whose username on all platforms is more likely to be something stupid than her actual name.

modern!ellie who refuses to turn on auto correct even though she so desperately needs it.

modern!ellie never cooks. ever! it’s either take-out or you forcing a homemade meal down her throat. (she doesn’t mind.)

modern!ellie who cuddles you like you’re married!

modern!ellie doesn’t play about her video game!!!! she will throw a tantrum!

modern!ellie’s playlist consists of hard rock, indie and atleast some rap.

modern!ellie who just shows up at your house?? at let’s herself in!!! the disrespect.. (you don’t care..)

imagine you come home from a long, stressed-filled day. juggling work and exam week AND the weight of being the baddest bitch on campus has really been weighing on you lately; causing you to (as she calls it) neglect ellie..

you walk in, shoulders slumped and release a heavy sigh as you drop your things down on the kitchen table when your bestfriend walks out of your bathroom like nothing.

“hello?” you say, your face morphing from scared to un-impressed as you realize the person in your home was not an intruder.

“hey babe” she says quietly as she walks over to you, slowly watching you as you put your things away.

“how many times have i told you. the extra key i gave you is for emergencies.” you lecture. not really caring as much as you led on to be.

“there was an emergency though!” she argues. you give her a look of scepticism. “and what would that be?” you roll your eyes.

“we haven’t hung out in three days! hello?! i’ve barely seen you since monday!” she whines.

“i’ve been busy, that’s all.”

“busy?”

“yeah.” you whisper, palming your eyes out of fatigue. she gives you a half smile as she realizes that you’re not in the mood for her god awful attitude.

“awh, ‘cmere” the next thing you know your letting yourself relax into ellie’s arms as she rubs your back and gently soothes the tension in your body.

“you wanna go lay down?” she looks down at you and asks. hee voice remaining in the same low whisper as before.

“yeah, please.” you say before she grabs your hand and pulls you into your bedroom. she insists on making you feel better at this point and who are you to stop her??

she opens your pajama drawer and pulls out a big baggy shirt and some shorts, “put these on.” she says as she walks around the bed to the night table, switching the lamp on and peeling back the blanket.

she somehow managed to keep her eyes to herself and when your done she carefully slides into bed next to you. “you comfy?” she asks.

“im good.” god you can already feel your eyes closing. ellie slowly pulls you into her arms and rubs small circles on your stomach as she lulls you into tranquility. eventually you both fall asleep; what seemed to be the weight of the world lifting of your shoulders.

for now.

modern!ellie who had a crusty white dog but it went missing and she never saw it again.

[murdockparker]

Roses and Regrets Part 2

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: What a pleasant life it is, to be a widow with no obligations. Getting new dresses, making unlikely friends, what a treat.

Word Count: 3.9k

Rating: 18+!!! MINORS DNI (I will haunt you)

Warnings: female masturbation, yearning, Reader decidedly hates Anthony (what's new??) , maybe a bit of angst

A/N: oops my hands slipped and this is what happened. sorry bout that, bruv!

first part - next part

—

“You should have seen him, Meg.”

Her lady’s maid nodded along to Lady Barlow’s rant, having heard the interaction in nauseam since she returned from the park. From his appearance to his demeanor—Meg assumed she might as well have been there. Carefully, she continued to remove the pins from the dowager viscountess’ hair, the very same that she had placed in the morning. 

“I am sure Lord Bridgerton was certainly unagreeable,” Meg droned, accidentally snagging her lady’s hair. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“You know, you don’t have to do all that, I am a perfectly capable woman,” (Y/N) laughed, looking at her maid in the mirror. “And he was, unagreeable, if you must know.”

“He is alway unagreeable,” Meg said, exasperated. “My lady, please take no offense, but I think this talk of Lord Bridgerton must cease.”

“You do not have to ask me twice,” (Y/N) snorted. “I wish for nothing more than to stop speaking about that oaf.”

Meg blinked. “Right. Of course.”

“You… you do not believe me?”

“I believe you believe it to be true,” Meg carefully stated, hands by her sides. “We have a good friendship, ma’am, and I am ever grateful that you allow me to speak my mind—”

“So speak it,” (Y/N) said, voice tittering on a giggle. “I shall not take offense, I swear it.”

“You have done nothing but speak of Lord Bridgerton since you arrived from your visit to the park,” Meg began, choosing her words carefully. “Save for when you had your meals, hard to speak over soup and the like. I, for one, am exhausted hearing about it. Perhaps a respite from the topic?”

“Imagine how I feel,” (Y/N) finally laughed. “That man makes me insane.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I pray whenever he marries—oh that poor woman—I hope she can teach him some manners.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Perhaps I should send him a book on it? Manners, I mean.”

“Good idea, ma’am.”

“Meg, you are not hearing me.”

“Oh I am hearing you,” Meg nodded. “I am just choosing not to listen.”

She bit her lip, eyeing her friend’s faraway glance. Glassy, almost. “Perhaps… I suppose I should drop the topic for now?”

“It is late,” Meg shook her head, nearly dropping out of a trance. “I have mending to attend to, if you do not mind.”

“You hate the mending.”

“Picking and choosing my battles, ma’am,” Meg smiled politely. 

“Admirable,” (Y/N) said. “I suppose it is late…”

“Might I fetch you some more tea before you retire?” She set the last pin down amongst the vanity. Covered in expensive oils and products, it’s a wonder that anyone could find anything at all on the surface. Thank God Meg knew the contents like the back of her hand.

“No… I fear it will keep me up all night, but thank you, truly,” (Y/N) said. 

“Goodnight, my lady.”

And then, she was alone. 

Snuffing her candle, she hopped into her bed. Thankfully she never shared this one with Lord Barlow—that was reserved in the wing across the estate—leaving this bed untouched by such a soiled man. It was pleasantly plush and covered in endless pillows, she wondered if the royal princesses slept in beds as nice as this one—nicer, probably. More pillows, if she had to wager.

Sheets pulled up to her chin, eyes focused on the ceiling, she tried to chase sleep. Her mother had taught her a trick when she was young, imagining rabbits chasing around the room and counting those—perhaps it was sheep? Regardless, she tried counting. She only made it to twenty nine before flipping onto her side, exasperated by the count. 

Sleep never came.

The covers melted off of her body in an instant, floating over to her door to ensure it was locked. Quietly, oh-so quietly, she turned the latch. No need for the staff to interrupt her… sleep. She hardly had to turn to such matters, but when exhaustion cycled her brain and not her body, leaving her tossing and turning all night, she really had no other choice. 

No other choice, she reminded herself. 

She laid on top of the covers this time, rabbits and sheep all but forgotten.

If there was to be one positive of marrying, it was the sheer fact that she was able to fully understand her body as a woman. While the marital act itself was entirely loathsome—a chore with Lord Barlow that happened infrequently during their marriage to try for an heir—the act of doing it alone? 

Why the idea alone just got her heart pounding. 

She never had anyone to teach her these things, her mother passed before her marriage, so there was no ‘wedding night talk’. Everything that Lady Barlow had learned was from her sheer will and determination—a chase for something she never quite knew she was racing towards. Her husband? He had never been any help. A few grunts and thrusts before he would spend himself inside, collapsing on top of her for the night. 

She refused to give her late husband much thought—not when her hands were on her breasts, one slinking lower to touch a more delicate area. 

No. She needed to focus her thinking on something else. Something to get the job done, send her to sleep sooner than later. 

The gentleman. The faceless one that she imagined in place of her own hands. It usually sped things along if she focused on a generally well-looking fellow and how he’d touch her instead of just chasing her own feelings with her fingertips. Saved her wrists a lot of pain too—occasionally she felt like she was back practicing her penmanship, writing lines all day with her governess—the ache was fairly similar. Although, one pain caused a higher embarrassment than the other.

Decidedly happy with her diversion of thought, she made quick work on the bottom of her nightdress and pulled it up to her stomach. (Y/N) had never the need to sleep with drawers, feeling a dress was more than enough. Besides, it gave her easy access on nights like tonight. Her fingers danced with her lower lips, already damp with arousal. 

She sighed at the first contact, the pure ecstasy of running her fingertips across her glistening folds. In her mind, he was doing this to her, the nameless man who wanted nothing more than to give her what she needed. With slow and tantalizing circles, she teased her clit, gasps leaving her lips involuntarily, her eyes rolling shut before she could even think. Her non-dominant hand continued to grasp at her breast, squeezing and rolling the flesh until she was utterly mindless. 

The climb was thrilling, it was suffocating and all encompassing. How she dreamed she could experience this with someone, feel this pleasure with another, both giving and taking exactly what the other needed. She groaned again, feeling herself getting closer to the edge, her circles faster now, the gentleman making good work on her neglected center. 

“Gods,” (Y/N) cried, trying her very best to keep her voice down. She didn’t need Meg inquiring about her, not when she was so worked up and so, so close.

And then… the fall. Everything was white and her heart felt like it was bound to beat out of her chest.     

Brown eyes.

As she fell into a peaceful slumber, for no reason in particular, she decided her faceless gentleman had brown eyes. 

—

Breaking her fast was usually rewarding, the chefs at Barlow Estate were some of the most talented in the ton—of course, only in her humble opinion, not that she had much to compare it to. When she first married Lord Barlow, having such fulfilling meals first thing in morning was almost worth marrying such an oaf. Almost.

“Did you have a good sleep, ma’am?” A butler asked, taking (Y/N)’s empty plate, replacing it with one full of fresh cut fruit.

“Oh!” Her face flushed. “Y-yes, James, of course. I always have a pleasant sleep.”

“You look well rested, ma’am,” he nodded.

“My lady,” Meg spoke up, gaining the attention of Lady Barlow from her fruit. “You have an appointment at the modiste early this afternoon.”

“I don’t recall making an appointment,” (Y/N) held her hand still, half of an apple tight in her grasp.

“I made the appointment, ma’am,” Meg said. “You are in need of new dresses—” 

“Is there something wrong with the way I dress?”

“Of course not,” Meg said quickly, her face growing slightly pink. “It is just, since the late Lord Barlow passed you have been in mourning attire—blacks, blues, the entire dreary ensemble. I figured it would be best to get dresses that suited more the colors of the season.”

“I am unsure if you noticed,” (Y/N) said, taking a small bite of her apple. She chewed it quickly. “But my dress today is green.”

“I did notice,” Meg nodded politely. “It is a lovely color, but perhaps a lighter blue would be nice? A purple?”

“Perhaps you should listen to her, ma’am,” James interjected. “The family account has not been used since after your wedding and the mourning attire—”

“And I can use that money elsewhere,” (Y/N) raised her brow. “I’m sure the new viscount will be pleased I am not blowing his money so frivolously, I do not see the need for new dresses.”

Meg sighed, giving James a trying look. He shrugged. “Humor me. Just one dress.”

“Fine. One dress."

Somehow, between the carriage ride to the modiste and the tailoring of a beautiful purple display piece, Lady (Y/N) Barlow was talked into three new dresses. A sharp pinprick to her left leg brought her back to her senses. 

“Oh! Lady Barlow, I do apologize,” Madame Delacroix said. “You must keep still as I pin your hems."

“I will try my best,” (Y/N) smiled, glancing down at the woman working hard on her new dress. “How fortunate the display dress you had fits so well.”

“Oui, how fortunate,” Madame Delacroix nodded. “A few pins and stitches and it will be perfect. And this color is very flattering—I am certain the men of the ton will turn their heads at this.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I have no need to turn heads, Madame,” (Y/N) said curtly. “I am simply just refreshing my wardrobe.”

“Oh, no one has the need to turn heads, save for the young ladies,” Madame Delacroix giggled, it sounded almost fake, forced. “But my work will do that regardless, so do expect that Lady Barlow.”

“Joy,” (Y/N) sighed, tilting her head at her reflection. While it hadn’t been an extraordinarily long time since she debuted—a shake over three years at the most—she was no longer the young girl from her first season. Her curves have filled out, her features more defined, so this particular cut was suiting her just fine. Madame Delacroix was the best modiste for a reason, knowing just how to make the ladies of the ton sparkle.

The front door swung open, a sea of blue flooding in the entryway. “Ah, Lady Bridgerton, I shall be with you in a moment!” Madame Delacroix called out.

(Y/N) froze at the mere mention of the Bridgerton name.

“Take your time, Madame,” Lady Bridgerton cooed, practically shoving a book of fabrics in her daughter’s face. Eloise, (Y/N) recalls, the second eldest daughter of the brood. It was her first season. “We’ll be patient.”

“Shall I pull another dress, Lady Barlow?”

“No,” (Y/N) shook her head wildly. “I rather think I am finished for this afternoon. Please add the dresses to my account—”

“Lady Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton said kindly. “How lovely it is to see you.”

Fuck.

“Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) curtsied, feeling far too proper. “Likewise.”

“What a lovely color that is on you,” she said, eying the girl up and down. “I take it you are out of mourning then, yes?”

“Have been since the Danbury Ball,” (Y/N) nodded. “But I gather Lady Whistledown has already made that public knowledge.” 

Lady Bridgerton's cheeks flushed, like a child with their hand caught in the biscuit jar. “I cannot say that I find myself reading that gossip rag often, but—”

“Oh Mother,” Eloise groaned, looking up at the ceiling in frustration. “You read Whistledown just as often as I.”

“I do not blame you, Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) quickly added. The older woman’s shoulders relaxed. “For the many months I was in mourning and not socializing, Whistledown was my way I could keep up with everything. I very much would like to thank her, should I ever get the opportunity.”

“Yes, well,” Lady Bridgerton cleared her throat. “In any case, if you happen to be free tomorrow afternoon, would you like to join me for tea?”

“Tea?”

“I remember how it felt when—” she stopped herself, eyes becoming glassy. “Becoming a widow so suddenly is difficult. I would like to bestow my wisdom upon you if you’d allow it.”

“You are not quite old enough to be bestowing wisdom,” (Y/N) laughed lightly.

“I beg to differ,” Eloise mumbled.

“Flattery, Lady Barlow, will get you everywhere,” Lady Bridgerton smiled, elbowing her daughter lightly. “And you already have the invite, no need to lay it on so thick.”

“That is very kind of you, but—”

“So, shall we say noon tomorrow?”

The Bridgertons, as Lady Barlow gathered, were a difficult lot to say no to.

“Noon. Sounds perfect.”

—

It felt odd, being in the drawing room of Bridgerton House. She only ever had the fleeting thought that she’d ever sit here the once—ages ago during her first season. Now? Now she was sitting and drinking tea with Lady Bridgerton as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“You have a lovely home,” (Y/N) said, holding her teacup a little tighter than she should. 

“Thank you,” Lady Bridgerton said voice full of appreciation. “Tell me, Lady Barlow, how is your family?”

“My family?”

“Oh, forgive me for asking,” Lady Bridgerton clarified. “I just had realized that I know very little about you, you were only in the season for such a short time before you married. I figured your family was a good place to start.”

“No, no,” (Y/N) put the cup down. “I understand. Seeing as everyone knows about your family,” Lady Bridgerton chuckled at that, “I should only fill in some blank spaces, I suppose.”

The elder dowager nodded her head, tipping her cup at the younger widow to continue.

“No family, I’m afraid,” (Y/N) said, her voice wavering on sad. “Mother passed a few years before my debut, Father just last year. No siblings, so… just me I’m afraid.”

“Goodness,” Lady Bridgerton pressed a hand to her heart. “Your father and husband in the same year? I am truly sorry for your losses.”

“My mother was the true loss,” she said honestly, her voice practically lifting. “Kindest soul to grace this Earth, I mourn her every day. The others? I do not doubt anyone has missed them.”

“Lord Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton dropped a spoonful of sugar into her cup. “He was an odious man. When I had heard he had taken another wife—it was quite the story around the ton. I was beside myself.”

“I happen to be number three,” (Y/N) said matter-of-factly. “Number One and Two both died in childbirth, trying to give that man his beloved heir. Never worked out, and I cannot say I am crestfallen I never came to be with child, either. The new Lord Barlow is quite well suited for the role regardless, I am told, so I suppose it has worked out for the best.”

“Yes,” Lady Bridgerton had a small smile against her lips, “I can imagine so.”

“Does your son,” (Y/N) coughed, correcting herself, “Lord Bridgerton, does he know I am here for tea?”

“Oh my son is not always privy to my social calendar,” the older woman winked. “He is probably out galavanting and trying to find a wife.”

“A wife?”

“Oh, yes,” Lady Bridgerton nearly beamed. “Lord Bridgerton is finally looking to marry—even after all these years of begging him. Something just clicked last season, I suppose. Perhaps Daphne, the duchess, marrying finally gave him the right idea?”

(Y/N) nodded politely. “I’m sure you’re thrilled.”

“I only wish for the best for all eight of my children,” she nodded, “so seeing him look to marry makes me ever hopeful.” 

“Mhm,” (Y/N) sank into more of her cup, polishing it off.

The grand clock ticked away. 

“I apologize if this all makes you uncomfortable Lady Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton started. “It is just… when Edmund passed, I had my family and wonderful friends to support me. I figured, perhaps, having another friend would not be the worst thing?”

“Lady Bridgerton, you are very kind for checking in with me, and I very much appreciate this tea,” (Y/N) said honestly. She felt like she could jump out of her skin with anxiety, but tried her very best to keep it under control. “But… as you had alluded, it is no secret that Lord Barlow and I were not a love match. There is no need—”

“Being a widow is hard,” Lady Bridgerton cut her off. “It is rotten work and you feel like a shell of yourself, only having a title such as ours because of who we married and not in our own right. Tell me, do you plan on remarrying?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I am quite content with my life,” (Y/N) said thoughtfully. “Widows have all the freedom in the world, I am allowed many opportunities because of it—far more than when I was simply a little thing on the Marriage Mart.”

“I suppose that would be… correct,” Lady Bridgerton treaded lightly. “However, do you not wish for a family? The support of another?”

“It is not that I do not wish for a family,” (Y/N) said truthfully. “I am sure part of me does, but it is more the matter of everything that comes with it.”

“I could never imagine going about life alone,” Lady Bridgerton said. “After Edmund… I am just grateful my children were here to keep me sane, grounded, even.”

“Children can be a blessing…”

“But children,” Lady Bridgerton added quickly, “they are not for everyone. I hope you find happiness in whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” the young viscountess said sincerely. “You have such a wonderful life, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Violet,” she corrected. “Please, call me Violet.”

“Oh,” (Y/N)’s cheeks darkened. “Violet, then.”

“We are friends now, after all,” Violet smiled kindly, the kind of smile only a mother possessed. She waved for the tea to be replaced, a butler practically rushed to fulfill the viscountess’ request. “More tea?”

“I would love some more,” (Y/N) said, feeling lighter than air. Perhaps having a friend was a good step forward, a leap into the right direction.

The door to the drawing room slammed open.

“Mother, I just received our balance from the modiste and—”

Much like he owned the place—and in a way, he did—Lord Bridgerton took command of the less-than-quaint room and had all eye on him. His own eyes—his brown eyes—were trained solely on the widow sitting beside his mother, his mouth agape.

“Oh Anthony, you cannot just barge in here,” Violet scolded, “we have a guest.”

“I see that,” he seethed, shoving his hands behind his back in faux-decorum. “Lady Barlow.”

“Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded stiffly, not bothering to raise from her seat.

He ignored her, turning swiftly to his mother instead. “May I have a word alone with our guest, Mother?”

Feeling the tension in the room rise, Violet sighed, giving into her son’s request. “I believe I should check on the governess, anyhow,” Violet said, rising from her seated position. “Behave.”

Anthony brushed his mother’s whispered warning off, tilting his head to the staff, all leaving the room at his command. The door had barely clicked shut before he stepped forward. “Since when are you friends with my mother?”

“Since when do you care about who I spend my time with?”

“Since that company is my mother,” he said cooly. “I would have thought you were just so turned off by the Bridgerton name that you would ignore all of my family—”

“She is a nice woman,” (Y/N) rose, crossing her arms. “How you managed to turn out the way you have despite that is beyond me.”

“You are in my home,” Anthony pointed. “You insult my character and you dare try to befriend my mother?”

“Dare?” She laughed. “Am I not allowed to have friends?”

“Not with my mother,” he stepped towards her. 

“Your mother,” she smiled forcefully, “Violet, has been nothing but kind to me today. She was merely looking out for me—offered me some good advice.”

“Advice?” He laughed. “On what planet could someone many years your senior offer you helpful advice?”

“You could not settle with just insulting me, so you had to insult your own mother? She is not yet elderly—”

“Yet she is older than you,” he corrected, his cheeks pink from his mistake. “Do you not have friends your own age?”

“Do you not have something better to do?”

He huffed, squeezing his wrist in restraint. “I came here to speak with my mother—”

“Yet you shooed her out of the room and decided to speak to me instead,” she countered, stepping closer. “To insult me? To threaten me? Whichever, I suppose, I will never understand. I decided to take tea with Lady Bridgerton because she offered it—offered advice on being a widow, something you have already known about me.”

“I wouldn’t wish for her to hear our conversation, besides, her advice could not have been that helpful,” Anthony snorted. “My parents were in love, her trials of being a widow pales in comparison to your situation—”

“The one in which I also lost a husband? The sole definition of being a widow?” She said, her arms tight against her chest. “That situation?”

The grand clock—that damned grand clock—chimed in the uncomfortable silence, a new hour beginning.

“I may not have loved Lord Barlow,” she admitted. “He may not even have been a friend to me, but I still am a lady who has lost her husband—a lady who has so much as lost her way in this fucked world, a world where a woman cannot simply be without one. Your mother was simply being kind.”

“I did not mean…” Anthony’s posture softened, even just a bit, words caught in his throat.

“But you did,” she pointed. “If you hadn’t meant it, you wouldn’t have said it. My, Lord Bridgerton, you certainly have a way with words, much like you always have, it seems.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She looked at the clock. “I must take my leave. I am expected to be back home soon, the estate certainly cannot run itself, seeing as my husband,” she nearly spat the word, “has left it to my care. What a thoughtful man he was.”

“I—Lady Barlow,” Anthony started, unsure of where he was going with it. “Please accept my apologies.”

“Keep them,” she smiled. “They are nearly as useless as you are. Excuse me.” Lady Barlow opened the door with haste, nodding to the staff members who were waiting outside. Her lady’s maid, Meg, followed only a few steps behind her, her attention caught on the wounded viscount in blue.

Anthony practically dissolved into the arm chair, unsure of what to do next. He had half a mind to go to his study to drink, to pour over the invoices that had him enter this room in the first place. His interactions with Lady Barlow usually left him buzzing, his blood boiling and his ego only partially wounded. How he was left feeling so defeated was beyond him.

“A way with words?” He mumbled to himself. “I never wish to understand that woman.”

Yet, a part of him nearly screamed the opposite.

How peculiar.  

—

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𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐚.

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 — 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪 𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘰 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘵𝘸 — 𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘦/𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯, 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘢, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵

It’s an odd thing, she realized. Practically lunacy. Rapt, her hand traced the outline of her collarbone, eyes following the motion in the mirror. Maybe she hoped for a lag in the reflection. This was a trick mirror, it had to be. 

The muted olive walls of the bathroom closed in on her. Dim lighting, an orange-ish tint to the bulbs. Far too saturated, suffocating, she was choking herself out as thoughts swarmed around her mind. Lips parting in a quiet denial of the situation, she almost missed how her whole body was trembling.

[name] ran fingers through her hair in an effort to ground herself. Purple bruises and red bitemarks littered across her neck and collar, she flinched at the memory that came with them. She didn’t wear concealer, so she wouldn’t have any in her purse. Imperfections of her face bubbled up, but it wasn’t enough to rip her attention away from the marks.

Jujutsu High was supposed to be a safe haven. It was supposed to be somewhere she could focus on strengthening her skills, somewhere she could escape her ignorant and awful family — But tragedy tends to follow those who combat it the most. 

A shaky breath, and [name] crumbled to the floor in a heap. She could hardly breathe, scratching at her skin, rubbing furiously at her body as her cries echoed in cracked whispers, “God, please get it off— Get his touch off— I-I can’t—” She hiccupped, tears rapid in their descent down her face. 

Her knees ached from the coldness of the tiled floor, bathtub in her peripheral suddenly looking more like a coffin than anything else. She wondered, for a moment, — If she filled the tub with water and let the crystal substance fill her lungs, would she feel clean?

Bring her to the forest, dump her body on the grass. Nature will be gentler than any man. 

Megumi Fushiguro wasn’t a bad man. That’s what [name] believed. She saw his stoicism as gentleness to the world. She saw his silence as peace. And, of course, she saw his potential as a sorcerer. She was the one who brought it to his attention, just before Gojo even got the idea to talk to him.

The girl had approached him just before he was to close his room’s door for the night. 

[name] smiled softly, eyes not meeting his as she tried to step out of her comfort zone. “I just think you have a lot of amazing things you’d be able to do! You can bring out your potential, I just— I think you can pull it out of yourself, hon’, I really do…” She dared a glance up into his eyes, suppressing a wince when he had been looking at her the whole time. “If that makes sense, of course! Sorry, I don’t know why I—”

She was cut off by a quiet laugh. It wasn’t harsh or biting, not even mocking — It was a genuine, soft laugh. Finally turning to look at him properly, her heart almost fluttered. He was smiling, eyes crinkling upward at the notion. Despite her hesitation, he looked so… happy. He was shining, honestly. 

“ Thanks, [name]. I, ah, needed that.” He ran a hand through his fluffy raven locks, gunmetal hues resting on her face. Unmoving. His cheeks were dusted a light pink. She internally breathed a sigh of relief, laughing with him. Her own smile was made even brighter than before, cheeks starting to hurt. 

Megumi almost brought his hand up to affectionately ruffle her hair, but stopped himself. He could hold on for a bit longer, he could— He observed the crinkle in her eyes, the bags under them, the moles, the light in her pupils, and suddenly, he recognized life as short. 

[name] had to depart, she decided with a glance at her phone. She didn’t want to ruin the moment, but she’d promised Itadori a hangout. She was about to wave goodbye, the words settling on her tongue— If not for his hand shooting up, grabbing her wrist before she could even try to pull back. 

The countdown started. Megumi liked to believe he was great at keeping all of his true thoughts and feeling under wraps. 

[name] didn’t flinch. Why would she? She’d gotten comfortable with Megumi, there was no reason for her to— 

Oh.

His eyes had darkened. She didn’t think it had been possible, really, but all the memories of her family had come rushing back. A tidal wave of sin, the sudden recession of an ocean. She looked at their intertwined hands, then back up at his face. Something in the air had shifted. 

The girl gave a cautious tug at her wrist, eyes no longer possessing the strength of contact with his. “Ah, I gotta go hon’—, Promised Yuuji I’d hang out with him.” She experimentally tugged again, but to no avail. Her lips turned the slightest bit downward.

Perhaps the scariest part was Megumi’s silence. The way his eyes fell dull, completely unlike the smile on his face just moments before. Was his previous grin sardonic? Did she not catch the undertone? His grip on [name]’s wrist only tightened a considerable amount, brows creasing together in a look that mirrored— What, betrayal? Annoyance? Was she being annoying for trying to leave?

“...Megumi?” Cautious. She realized her tone was cautious. What changed? Just a few minutes ago she felt completely comfortable with him, she was at peace and felt that he was someone she could trust, but now—

She didn’t get the chance to respond. The quiet of the hallway sank in quickly as he yanked her feeble frame inside. A yelp, but it reached no one as the door slammed shut. 

[name] turned to Megumi, eyes wide and pupils just shaking with fear. Silence, as it was, spoke fucking volumes. She hadn’t noticed it before, the way his gunmetal blue eyes dragged along her body, sizing her up like lamb to the slaughter. 

He took a step forward, dorm floor creaking with the notion. She took one back. It took a second, but her flight instinct kicked in. Turning on her heel, [name] went for a mad dash for the backdoor. It led to his balcony, so maybe if she jumped and ran for Yuuji, or Gojo Sensei, or Nobara— 

A single hand caught on her hair and pulled. A wounded whimper left the girl’s throat, body crashing right back into the ravenette’s. She struggled as much as possible, but it didn’t do much when he just got her right up against the nearest wall. 

Those gunmetal eyes carried the embers of hell, she thought. Despite her weak whines and cries, the devil’s whispers painted fluttering kisses to cloud any sane thought she hoped had burrowed into Megumi’s mind.

He pinned her wrists above her head, frame completely devouring hers as he dove in for a kiss. She squirmed under him, trying to turn her head, but one of his hands only held her chin in place. This was her worst nightmare turned ten times more malicious. 

His hands roamed her body with the desire of Eros, the pursuit of Persephone from Hades, the longing of Pothos — A man possessed by tragedy. She had to be his lyre, the instrument he used and used and used and used—

[name] cried out as his teeth sank into the soft of her neck. His tongue seemed to lap up the blood easily, as if an apology for his unbridled animosity. He treated her like glass he knew could be repaired. Delicate, but made for shattering.

Megumi seemed to hardly use any strength to rip the front of her shirt open with one hand, leaning down to pepper his kisses down her chest. The tattered remains of her shirt and bra fell to the floor, leaving the upper part of her body completely vulnerable and to his mercy. Teeth on skin, marking, sucking — He was making sure no inch of her didn’t carry him.

A breath, and [name] almost thought he’d come to his senses with the way his ministrations paused. However, she was proven wrong when he moved to remove her bottoms too. His free hand reached down and began to rub circles on her, now, exposed clit. She writhed as much as she could, breathless pleas falling from her lips as his long fingers worked their way inside of her, eliciting even more pained cries.

The boy didn’t offer a response, much too lost in everything about the moment. She was under him, whimpering because of him, this wet because of him— What else could he ever ask for?

In one swift movement, Megumi lifted her thighs to rest around his waist. He had pulled his sweatpants down enough to rub his erection against her bare pussy. She winced at the movement, head thrown back against the wall as his grip tightened around her wrists. A quietly strained groan left his throat, the first noise he’d made this whole time. 

[name] bit her tongue so as to not offer any other response that may satisfy, resorting to quietly struggling against him again. He, of course, did not budge one bit. The horror she felt before only increased when the head of his cock started to push into her. A strangled cry, eyes squeezing shut as he sunk deeper and deeper into her warmth.

He groaned quietly again, just letting his hips rest against hers for a moment. It didn’t last very long though, as he slowly started to roll his thrusts into her, face buried in her neck as she kept her head held high against the wall.

The thrusts started off fairly slow, but he really just— couldn’t get enough. Megumi hissed a quiet ‘fuck…’, pace increasing a great amount. She tried to hold back, but her back had already arched the tiniest bit, canines digging into her lip.

The brutality of how he fucked her just got worse and worse, and soon enough the whole dorm was full of both of their strained moans, skin slapping against skin, thumps against the wall. She couldn’t take it anymore, tears streaming down her face for a while now as she begged him to just stop, stop, stop—

But it doesn’t take a genius to see how he was far too deep in to tap out now. Megumi’s groans and soft whines echoed against the wall, and he couldn’t care less that Yuuji could easily hear them from the next room over. If anything, that was good — Maybe Yuuji’d take the hint after hearing her moan his name instead. 

[name]’s breath quickened, climax approaching, but the sick feeling of being taken advantage of like this, the dirtiness that came with an orgasm from such a sick person— She couldn’t do this. She didn’t want to, she never wanted to. 

Pitch black hair bounced with each pronounced thrust, but his pace grew sloppy. [name]’s breath hitched at the slow realization. It felt like the world had come crumbling down in an instant, and her fear grew impossibly larger. 

“M-Megumi— Not in– Not inside, please—” She stammered, but it really only came out as a whine or whimper than a command. 

Like always, he didn’t offer a response. He just kept fucking into her at that same brutal pace, before his hips stuttered along with her pleas — And before she knew it, he was shooting ropes of white into her tight walls. 

Breathing heavily, Megumi’s hips stayed against hers again, just relishing in the heat pulsing between the two of them. After a few moments of panting and an intimacy she wanted to rip from her body, he let her thighs uncoil from around his waist.

The boy pulled out, juices running down both of their thighs as he tucked himself away. [name] slumped against the wall, in a pool of her own ripped up clothes, completely open and vulnerable to the man who had taken advantage of her. She tucked her knees into her chest, eyes blank and empty as she tried to catch her breath.

Megumi ran a hand through his hair, light sweat catching onto his skin. He clicked his tongue gently, seeming to weigh his options before pulling her up into his arms. She flinched violently, and that only got another click of his tongue. He brought her into the washroom, running a warm bath and shutting the door for the sake of privacy. Ironic, isn’t it?

Which… leads to…

Right now. 

[name] ran a hand down her face, breaths significantly slower but still short. She was completely out of touch right now, eyes swirling with fatigue, blankness, and something akin to horror.

Standing up, she found it in herself to at least wash the parts she felt most dirty, but as she pulled on the spare clothes Megumi had given her, it didn’t make her feel any better. She took a heavy breath, giving it a once-over in the mirror. The oversized shirt hung low enough on her neck to expose all the marks and bruises littered all over the skin, and he hadn’t supplied her with a bra either. No matter what, she was exposed to him.

She blinked the fatigue in her eyes away for the sake of trying to figure out an action plan. If she can exit his dorm right now, get to one of the higher ups and report this, hell, even Yuuji— 

Yeah. She can do that. She rubbed her eyes, lashes damp with still fresh tears. She can do this. Her hand went to the door knob—

But the door swung open itself, Megumi stepping in and shutting the door behind him. He thought himself to be good at keeping his true thoughts and feelings under wraps at all times, he really did — And yet, as he pushed the terrified girl up against the sink, teeth sinking into her neck once more, he knew it was bullshit.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, but it sure as hell burned in one.

𝘱𝘭𝘴𝘴𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘥 𝘰𝘬 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘹 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 ☆

[rosesradio]

Luke Castellan x Fem!Reader (smut)

word count: 1,418

warnings: hand stuff 👋, thigh riding, coming in pants (some sub!luke as well, as a treat)

summary: in a pocket of alone time, you surprise luke by wearing his boxers underneath his sweatshirt. he's Unwell about this.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It wasn't as if you were trying to hide anything. Still, you couldn’t deny how your heart pounded when you were caught.

For once in a blue moon, the Hermes cabin was empty. All of its campers were at an Athena-cabin-organized arts and crafts exhibition. Luke had dropped by the event briefly, though seeing as you had told him you’d be in his cabin, he made his way back fairly quickly.

Luke had entered the cabin with his back to you, locking the door with the swift urgency of a heist mission.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Luke whispered, turning around. “The Stolls can do my unlocking trick, and—“ his voice faltered. “Is that my sweatshirt?”

You nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips. You loved wearing your boyfriend’s clothes, especially this piece. The black sweatshirt had the white Camp logo on it. It was a size too big on you and smelled like Luke, so it felt like being hugged by him even when he wasn’t there.

“You look adorable,” Luke smiled, moving over to his bed as he looked you up and down. “Are you, um…do you have shorts on under it?”

You raised your brows. You always did, though the way he asked it suggested he preferred you didn’t.

“Well,” you started. “Sort of…” you lifted up the sweatshirt, showing off a pair of his own light blue boxers.

“Oh,” Luke swallowed, sitting on his bed. His eyes were dark as he took in the look of you in his clothes. You had never worn his underwear before. Still, seeing as you had hooked up more than a few times, you figured this was okay to try out.

“Do you not like it?” You asked, your tone almost innocent. “I can change if you want…wear something of mine…”

Luke had seen just about your entire underwear drawer, from your sexiest pieces to what you had to wear on laundry day (which you found really embarrassing, though Luke had assured you that he’d find you hot in a trash bag). Now, however, he seemed to really like seeing you in his boxers.

“Please don't,” Luke insisted, his cheeks flushed as he reached out, pulling you close by your thighs. His touch wandered up, rubbing the dip of your hips as he moved closer to you. He did this thing sometimes, ruminating in the feeling of you, inches from kissing you without actually doing so.

It was you who finally gave in, pulling Luke close by the nape of his neck to kiss him. He let out a soft, almost relieved breath against your lips. The sound turned into a whimper as you tangled your fingers into his curls and pulled.

"You're so pretty," you murmured, simultaneously loving and hating the way kissing him made your mind go blank. You could only think of how much you loved him, how much you wanted him.

"Can't believe you're the one sayin' that," Luke shook his head. "When I got to walk in on you looking like this..." he allowed the hand not holding your hip to wander down further, to the hem of your (his) boxers. "Gods, can I?" he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin there.

You nodded, humming with clear approval and need. Luke moved his hand further down, between your legs, pulling away to fixate on you. He used two fingers to rub your clit, making your breath hitch as you pressed into his touch.

“Mm, finally,” you murmured against his lips between kisses. “Needed this for so long…”

“Yeah?” Luke hummed. “Beats doing it yourself, hm?” He pressed down a little harder, moving a little faster in a way that made you grasp his biceps. “Beats your toy?”

You let out a soft whine, burying your face in the crook of Luke’s neck. Your face flushed, your stomach writhing with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. Taking in his warmth, his scent, only pushed you further to the edge. “How—How’d you know about my toy?”

“You asked me to check your bedside drawer for an extra flashlight last week,” Luke replied smugly. “It was kinda hidden under a picture of us, and…I haven’t been able to stop thinking of it since…” he breathed the words near your ear, his voice warm and low. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking…of you…since…”

You moaned, grasping his shirt as your hips involuntarily pressed further into his touch. “Fuck…” you squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. “Please don’t stop…”

“‘Course not, sweetheart,” Luke murmured. He snaked a hand up your (his) sweatshirt, cupping one of your breasts in his large, warm hand. He squeezed, teasing the nipple before moving over to the other. “Wanna see your pretty face when you come for me, yeah?” He asked breathily.

You nodded. Gods, it had been such a long time. When was the last time you had come from only this? Part of you wanted his mouth (his tongue could work wonders), though you also couldn’t deprive yourself of your high a moment longer.

Your face scrunched up as an orgasm ran through you, so surprisingly tense that your stomach almost hurt. You whimpered, holding onto Luke, pressing desperately into his touch.

”Gods,” you caught your breath. “That was so good…”

Luke grinned as he pulled his hand away, always humble when it came to getting his work complimented. “Glad to be of service. Now, what do you say, beautiful…?”

You frowned, rolling your eyes at his smartass ways before you stopped short. You lit up with an idea.

“Flip us around,” you said. “I want you in my lap.”

Luke raised his brows, though he complied. “You have something in mind, or…?”

In a haze of desire, you ran your hands up Luke’s thighs, gazing up at him thoughtfully. He was situated so he was straddling one of your thighs, and you could feel how hard he was through his shorts.

“For being such a smartass,” you said decidedly. “You can put in the work to get yourself off. Just…like…this.”

“You’re kidding,” Luke whispered. He flushed bright red, licking his lips. “Isn’t there some way I can get outta this? This isn’t fair…”

You shrugged. “Life’s not fair, sweetheart. I mean, you could always use your own hand, but…” you laughed softly. He would never get himself off if he could have you, no matter what ‘having you’ meant. “I’d get to work, though. Tick-tock…”

Luke murmured a curse in Ancient Greek, beginning to roll his hips down against the warm, soft flesh of your thigh. His eyes were half lidded, his lips parted to let out soft pants and moans. Without the haze of your own aching need, you could see how good Luke looked so clearly.

Luke grasped your sweatshirt, hands moving back up it to cup your breasts again. He kissed you again, his tongue pressing ever so slightly to yours, gentle and inviting. You gripped his hips, guiding him along, watching as desperation coiled within his dark eyes.

"Gods," Luke whispered against your lips, his gaze lustful and hazy. "Seein' you in my boxers is just making me think of—mm, fuck—havin' a place with you. I wanna wake up to you wearing those, and...making us breakfast, maybe..."

"Yeah?" You mused, running your hands up Luke's shirt, exploring the panes of his chest. "Only if you'd get dolled up and return the favor, handsome..."

You could feel Luke's cock twitch against your thigh at that, and you grinned. No matter how far along you were in this, praise always got to him. You grasped his face roughly, your thumb pressing against his bottom lip.

"Aw, you gonna come for me, beautiful?" You teased. "I made such a pretty mess out of you..."

Luke's cheeks flushed, grinding down on your thigh with the desperation of a man depraved. His hips finally faltered, and he came with a whimpering moan. The sound alone made your stomach coil with another wave of arousal, pondering round two.

"There you go," You murmured, running your fingers through his messy curls as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. "Good boy...now, what do you say...?"

Luke pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, trembling slightly against you in the aftershocks. "Thank...thank you..."

"You're welcome," you replied smugly. You were sure that next time, provided he wasn't such a smartass, you would give him a lot more to thank you for.

[sarahisslytherin]

•❣•୨୧ 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 - 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙞𝙞 ୨୧•❣•

benedict bridgerton x princess!reader

summary: you and benedict have been sneaking out every chance you get.

contains: lots of romantic fluff and a dash of whorishness.

a/n: part two of the new series! hope you guys enjoy! PART I

word count: 1.4k

The garden beneath your window is cast in the pale glow of moonlight. The king has retired to his chambers and so have most of the servants. The wind blows gently into your bedroom from the open balcony window, the curtains waving softly as if inviting you out. You stand from your bed, the hairs at the back of your neck standing from excitement. You step out onto the balcony, immediately bathed in moonlight. As you run your fingers across the marble balustrade, you can’t keep your mind from running wild with all the possible scenarios that could play out tonight. You rest your head in the divot of your palm and gaze wistfully out onto the garden before you.

You don’t realize how lost in thought you are until your attention is caught by the rustling of grass. “Princess?” you hear Benedict’s voice call out for you. You look down and meet his eyes. He has only been able to pull this trick – sneaking onto the royal grounds past midnight – a handful of times, so it never fails to surprise you when you find his azure eyes shining beneath your window. He gasps as if the air is taken out of his lungs. “You know, your beauty never fails to take my breath away.”

You laugh incredulously. You have grown accustomed to hollow flattery your entire life and struggle to believe each one of Benedict’s Shakespearean compliments. But you say nothing of it, for the adoration in his gaze is evident and you wouldn’t dare doubt its sincerity. 

“Such a flirt.” you tell him and he smirks boyishly. “Just a moment, I’ll be right down.” You slink back into your chamber and out into the hall. Your white nightgown and floral robes flow as you glide down the crystal-clean stairs and out into the garden. There you find Benedict, his black coat making him seem more mysterious and dangerous than you know him to be. He takes your hands in his own and brings them to his lips, where he places a gentle kiss. “How I have longed to see you, my dear.”

“I feel the same.” you say, still catching your breath. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” You feel more electricity in this simple embrace than you have in years of dancing at balls and being courted by men of royal blood. Benedict smiles;  a sweet, earnest smile. He looks down nervously, fishing something out of his coat pocket before placing a sealed envelope in your hands. 

“For you to read later, when I am gone.” he says, bringing his thumb and forefinger up to hold your chin affectionately.  Though it has been a matter of mere weeks, what began as intense infatuation has inevitably begun to blossom into what can only be described as the purest form of love. The thrill of sneaking off with Benedict, or of reading the poetry he sends you nearly on a daily basis has become a sort of drug to you, a high you will never tire of chasing. However, it is in moments like these, when it is only the two of you and the moon as witness, that are filled with a tenderness that you feel will last forever. You open your palm and try to peek at what is scribbled on the inside of the envelope, cheekily holding it up against the moonlight.

“Very funny.” Benedict clicks his tongue and tickles your ribs, eliciting a laugh from you. “God, there is no sound I love more than that of your laughter. And to know I am the cause of it; well, that it makes it all that much lovelier.”

You smile before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and pulling away. But the moment is short-lived as Benedict pulls you in for a true kiss, one filled to the brim with passion and yearning, and perhaps a bit of lust. “Now, my dear.” you reprimand him half-heartedly. “We shan’t get carried away.”

“Of course, Princess.” he nods pliantly, but his voice is dripping with mischief as his head dips to plant a trail of kisses down the crook of your neck. He knows all too well that this act never fails to make you weak at the knees. “Surely we are both fully capable of abstaining from our desires, especially such a distinguished woman as yourself.”

“Oh, you are terrible, Benedict!” you push him off you, a scowl on your face. But one look at his roguish face and you are smiling in spite of yourself. “You are terrible and wonderful all at once.” 

“What conflicting reports.” he teases you. You feel as if you could jest this way with him for an eternity, simply laughing and kissing and smiling as lovers do. You try to picture it for a moment, a future with him. Your father would never approve. Benedict is the son of a Viscount and a member of arguably one of the finest families in London, but he has no title and is certainly not of royalty. You fear this love you have only just begun is fated to end sooner or later. But you do your best to push that thought away at present because Benedict is here and lovestruck and gazing at you starry-eyed. 

You awaken when your ladies in waiting rouse you from your sleep. You reluctantly stand and are almost immediately poured into today’s gown, the corset bodice somewhat constricting your lungs. As soon as you are left alone once again, you dash over to your vanity, sitting before the mirror as you rummage through a drawer and produce the envelope Benedict had given only the night before. You rip it open with a letter opener, your eyes eager to take in the words on the page. You recognize it almost instantly. It is a poem dedicated to you, one by Byron.

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!

You swoon, nearly sighing as you press the parchment to your beating heart. You decide that to be adored like this is truly one of the greatest kinds of bliss this life has to offer. You reluctantly part with your reminder of Benedict as you are summoned to see the king. The servants seem to be exchanging whispers as you make your way through the endless corridors of the palace in search of your father. You cannot find a cause for it, but there is a growing feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach when you enter his parlor.  You find him in quite a jovial mood, sipping his tea and flicking through the pages of a dusty book. “You called for me, Papa?”

“Ah, yes! My dear, I have news for you.” he says, a wide grin on his weathered features. “Now, I know you will probably not be ecstatic to hear it, but I have found a suitor for you. Well, not truly a suitor. You see, you will be marrying him come summer. It would be an excellent alliance and it is about time you assume your responsibilities as the princess.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach. “Papa! No! You can’t do this to me! You cannot make me marry a total stanger!”

The king’s smile now fades, replaced with an authoritative scowl. “You will do as I say, child. If not for the good of our family, at the very least, for the good of England. You will meet this prince and as the season comes to an end there will be a wedding, and it will be yours. My decision is final.”

You find yourself gasping for breath, turning on your heel to storm out. You find an empty corridor and lean on a wall before sinking down to the palace floor as you weep. There are too many thoughts racing through your mind to count, and the one you cannot cast aside is that of Benedict, with his boyish charm and romantic poetry. It seems your forever with him was doomed from the very start.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @enchantedbytomandhenry @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @dd122004dd @marvelspogue

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Let Me Show You

aegon x sister!reader x aemond 

The Usual Part 2 but can def be read alone!

Summary: Aegon and Aemond know they’re on your mind since the other night and take pleasure in watching you blush and avoid them. Aegon has a couple tricks for them to help you find sleep, which has been escaping you the past couple of days. 

Warnings: 18+ masturbation, oral(f + m receiving), p in v, orgasm denial, overstimulation, double penetration, swearing

Authors Note: no plot again :) like none x

Word Count: 2.4k 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It’s only been a couple of days since our rendezvous in the pleasure house but it’s all I can think about. My cheeks burn every time I’m in their presence and they just smirk at me. I don’t know if they’re waiting for me to go up to them but I can’t seem to find the courage. I just avoid eye contact and hope they don’t feel my absolute want pouring off of my body. 

“The maester said you’ve been having trouble finding sleep?” our mother looks to me from across the dinner table. 

“Yes,” I clear my throat. “I may seek a sleeping draft tonight if it still escapes me.” my voice barely a whisper as I drag my eyes to my mothers. 

“We can help tire you out.” Aegon leans in and murmurs in my ear causing my cheeks to heat. 

I try to focus on my dinner as Aegon slowly scoots my chair closer to him. His hands travel up my thigh and I scold myself for wishing he was beneath my skirts. I clench my thighs together as I feel a deeper blush creeping up my neck. I hear Aegon chuckle next to me and I look up and see that Aemond is staring at us with a smirk on his lips.

“I wish I could eat you for dinner.” Aegons voice is low and taunting before he sips on his wine. I have to swallow my whimper at his words and steel myself.

“I’m not feeling well, I’m going to retire to my chambers for the night.” I stand abruptly and my mother looks to me.

“Are you okay?” her brows scrunch as she looks at me with concern. 

“I just need to lay down.” I shake my head leaving the halls in a rush. 

My slippered feet pad up the stairs rushing past the guards standing sentry. I push into my chambers and slam the doors behind me. I start pulling my dress off my flushed body as I begin to overheat. Once I’m left in my slip I collapse to the bed in a huff. I’m not risking going to a pleasure house again so my fingers will have to do for the night.

I lean back into the pillow and squeeze my eyes shut. I ghost my hands over my nipples pretending their Aemonds soft touch. I cry out as I pinch one as my hips grind into nothing. I trail my other hand down my navel and slip a tantalizing finger through my wetness teasing myself. The second I swirl my fingers around my bud a whimper escapes my lips. 

“Aegon,” his name slips from my mouth before I can stop it. 

My fingers speed up their movements and I offer rough touches to my chest to imitate both of them. My hips chase my hand as I allow both of their names to fall from my lips. I get lost in my touch and pleasure, allowing my chambers to fade from around me. 

“Fuck, please Aemond,” my voice cracks as I dip a finger inside myself. I feel my pleasure coiling as my hips keep pushing off the bed. Whimpers fall from my mouth as I slip a second finger in and shutter.

“Gods I can’t watch anymore.” I jump back into the headboard as I snap my eyes open and see Aegon smirking next to Aemond who’s stalking over to the bed. 

“How long have you both been here?” my voice squeaks as Aemond crawls over me. 

“Long enough to hear how badly you need us to help you.” he chuckles dipping his head down to capture my lips as his fingers slide through my wetness. 

“Remember what I said brother.” Aegon chuckles coming to sit next to us on the bed and watches as I writhe beneath Aemond. 

“I don’t see the point.” Aemond sighs removing his fingers from me leaving me wanting for release. 

“Let me show you.” Aegon grins licking his lips. “How badly do you want to come my sweet sister?” his voice low as he pushes two fingers into my core. 

“Very badly, Aegon, please,” I mewl bucking my hips into his hand. 

He starts pumping his fingers into me and circles his thumb around my slick bud. Sharp pants fall from my lips as I chase my high. My legs begin to shake and he pulls his hand away and laughs at my frustrated whine. 

“What’s wrong?” his licks his fingers watching me. 

“Why did you stop?” I pout reaching out for his hand. 

“I didn’t feel like you wanted it enough.” I fist the sheets at his words and turn my eyes to Aemond pleading. 

“Aem, please,” my voice soft as I blink to him. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” he starts to dip down my body leaving a trail with his tongue. 

“Brother if you let her come I’ll make sure you don’t.” Aegons voice carries a sense of authority that has me clenching my thighs together. 

“Mm hear that? Aegon thinks he’s in charge tonight.” he chuckles as he licks along my thighs. 

“Aemond please,” I buck my hips up into his face. 

He licks through my wetness and I sigh falling back into my pillow. Aegon turns my head with his hands and locks me into a rough kiss. His teeth nip at my lip as I grind against Aemonds face. My whimpers become more high pitched as I feel my pleasure coiling. Aegon pulls off of me and tries to push Aemond from between my legs. 

“Aemond,” his voice is firm as he tangles his fingers roughly in his smooth locks. My legs start to shake and I begin arching off the bed. Just a couple more swirls and- 

“I know when to stop.” Aemond lifts up from me and I let out a strangled cry. 

“Please, please, I’ll be good please,” tears slip down my cheeks. 

“I know you will.” Aegon chuckles lowly. I wipe my cheeks as he comes into view undressed. My legs open wider as I take in his length and he looks at me with dark eyes. 

“Let her come, Aegon.” Aemond has a serpentine smile as he looks at my squirming body. 

“Not yet.” he shakes his head before he dips down over me. “Gunna use this tight cunt for my pleasure.” he shoves into my core and I sob as he splits me open. 

He ruts into me while moans pour from my mouth. I try to grab onto him but he holds my hands to the bed while he slams his hips. I try to control my whimpers hoping he won’t know that I’m about to burst. I’m about to let go when he pulls out of me suddenly. He kneels back and looks down at me stroking his cock. 

“Aegon, please,” I sit up and reach for his red, leaking member. 

I crawl to him and press my lips against the side of his shaft. I trail my tongue along the underneath until I reach his tip. He groans as I swirl around his leaking slit and sink down on him. Aemonds hands grip at my hips as his hardened length pushes through my wetness. I moan around Aegon as Aemond pushes in. 

“Should we let her come?” Aegon pants looking to Aemond. 

“I’m not pulling out until I fill her.” Aemond grunts snapping his hips into mine. 

I sigh around Aegon at the promise of release. As Aemond pushes in Aegon pulls out. They’re relentless and my high sneaks up on me. I choke against Aegon as I pulse around Aemond. Aemonds hips never falter as he continues to slam into me. 

“You’re doing so good.” Aemond grunts rolling his hips. 

Aegon cups the side of my cheek as I look up to him with pleasure and tear stained eyes. His gentle touch takes a turn as he twists his hands into my hair and starts to jerk his hips into my mouth. I’m gasping for breath any chance I get as Aemond continues at his savage pace. Aegon twitches down my throat and I swallow everything he gives me. 

I collapse to the bed as Aemond pushes my chest down on the bed keeping his hand there as he repeatedly slams into me. I feel my pleasure burst through me again as I sob into the bed. His hips stutter as he fills me pulling out quickly. I lay there with my legs spread and my core up in the air as I try to catch my breath. 

“Perfect position.” I feel the bed dip behind me as my chest continues to heave. “Now we’re gunna make up for all of the orgasms we stole from you.” Aegons fingers push into me and I sigh burying my head into the pillow. 

He supports my lower abdomen as he pumps his fingers into me mercilessly. My thighs quake as I explode around him feeling Aemonds seed seep out of me. Aegon scoops it into his fingers and pushes it back into me. Aemond looks down at my face smoothing my hair as I whimper. 

“Is Aegon making you feel good?” Aemond smiles down at me.

“Yes, so good,” I push my hips back into his hand and he starts to curl his fingers. My hips almost give out once Aemonds fingers brush against my bud. 

“Come for us pretty girl.” Aemond coaxes my pleasure as my body gives out. 

When I open my eyes again I’m laying against Aemonds chest propped up and Aegon is waiting with his face at my core looking up to me. My eyes widen as he smiles before softly licking at my bud. Aemonds hands cup my breasts and roll my nipples. Aegons tongue slips into my center and I cry out. 

“Aegon,” I pant as Aemond continues to tweak my hardened buds. 

“Are you gunna drown Aegon in your juices?” Aemond licks on my neck and I whimper. 

Aegon grunts in approval as his tongue ferociously starts to lick at me. My legs try to clamp around his head but Aemond holds them open with his legs baring me to Aegons attacks. He laps at me like a starved man and I feel my pleasure rock through my body as I shake against his face. 

“You taste simply divine.” Aegon licks his lips crawling up to me to capture my lips. 

I sigh into his mouth as I feel his length press up against me. He grinds me back into Aemond and I feel his hips jerk up against my back. I’m squished between them as they pepper me with kisses and tease me with their fingertips. 

“Got another idea.” Aegon looks from me to Aemond. 

“Mm what now?” Aemond pulls up from my neck. 

“Let us both fuck you. Together.” Aegons fingers slide between us back to my heat. He gathers wetness and continues past my core and circles a slick digit around my tight hole. 

“Aegon,” I squeak as he continues to watch my face as he pushes against the opening. 

“Aemond make her come with your fingers.” my breath catches as Aemond starts circling my throbbing bud as Aegon starts to push a finger in. 

Aegon slowly works his finger into me and I let out soft gasps as Aemond starts circling faster. I grind down onto Aegons finger and whine as he starts with a second finger. I look down to Aegon with low lids as he watches his fingers disappear into me. Aemond slides a finger down and dips into my core and I sob clenching around their fingers. 

I rest back against Aemonds chest as they slowly pull their fingers from me. Aegon pulls me forward and I fall against his chest. I rest on his chest and he slips up into my core. I sigh as he fills me and my head falls to his neck. I feel Aemond push our legs further open and settle behind us. 

“Fuck Aemond,” Aegon groans as I feel Aemonds fingers brush against where me and Aegon are joined, collecting wetness. I hear Aemond let out soft puffs of breath as he pumps himself, coating himself in our release. I feel him push against my tight hole and a whine bubbles out of my throat. 

“Relax for me.” he hums rubbing my hips. 

Aegon stills his hips and goes between us to rub my bud. I sob into his neck as I feel Aemond slowly push into me. My breath catches in my throat as he slides into me. Once he settles in me I focus on the full feeling of them both. Aegon jerks his hips up pushing me back on to Aemond. 

“Fuck,” Aemond grips at my hips tightly.  

I clench around them at the delicious fullness I’m being offered and fully let them take over my body. As Aegon pulls out Aemond pushes in. My body trembles with pleasure as I come holding them still inside. 

“Such a good fucking girl.” Aegons words slurred from pleasure as him and Aemond start a faster pace. 

My body is buzzing, I’ve never felt this much pleasure as I let them use me. I feel Aegons hips falter as his warmth spreads throughout me. I clench around them both and Aemond is immediately filling me from behind. I sob at the fullness of their seed and lengths still buried in me. Aemond pulls out and falls back and Aegon lifts me off of him. 

Whimpers fall from my lips as I feel their spend dripping between my thighs. They lay me between them as they kiss me and pepper me with compliments. Their hands travel all over my body trying to help me relax and one of their hands looks to find a home between my legs which I squeeze them shut shaking my head. 

“I can’t anymore.” I my body still shaking. 

“You’re okay,” Aemond shushes me pulling the blankets over us. 

“Rest our sweet girl.” Aegon kisses my brow and pulls me to him while Aemond drapes across my back as sleep finds me quicker than it ever has with a draft from a maester. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

damn here we go again 🧎🏼‍♀️

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @callsignwidow @gabriella-aesthetic @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @anaviieiraaa @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang

honorary tag from The Usual @janelongxox

[sheeluvsme]

Let’s talk about how price is literally husband material …

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE HEAD CANNONS 🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️ I love this man sm …. I normally hate facial hair on a guy BUT GOD DAYM COD MEN PULL THAT SHIT OFF..

Mix of sfw and nsfw blurbs bc I’m a silly guy. I really enjoy writing this shit bc I literally will be kicking my feet twirling my hair .. ( warning fem body parts used!) as I write this shit LMAOO enjoy!!! Ps. Not proof read..I wrote this at like 4 in the morning

He literally is so good to you , you can’t even be like mad at him over ANYTHING.

There was a time he accidentally dropped his cigar and it caught the bare skin of your leg AND HE FELT SO BADDDDD

He literally can not stand the thought of you being hurt..

He DEF SENDS CARE PACKAGES WHEN HES OUT FOR MONTHS AT A TIME

Being gone for so long he always takes a shirt of yours DRENCHED in your most used perfume so when he sleeps he can trick his brain into thinking your there.

He would be a king of taking care of your son your period!!!

Your sitting there curled up trying to not wake him up but you are just in so much pain :// and his ass senses it through his slumber?:!:?:?

“ you alright love?” He mutters into your shoulder. GOD HIS MORNING VOICE IS HOT. He woke up from feeling you tense up and sigh and whine quietly from the pain. “ yeah. Just my period.” You mumble into your pillow. He carefully pulls his arm around you , “ where” he asks. “ what-?” You ask confused. “ where is it cramping now love? I’ll massage it for you.” He whispered. You can’t help but swoon because you got the best husband in the WORLD “it’s my stomach right now-“ and immediately he takes his hand rubbing your stomach. The pain is suddenly being soothed and you can finally un-tense. “ theree you go love. I got you.” He kisses your shoulder softly. “ I’ll stay like this for a bit and then ill grab your heating blanket and a cup of tea hm? “ you feel him smile against your shoulder.

He’s very caring towards you but let’s not forget how you treat him like royalty fr

He always comes back with SOMETHING wrong with his back , and he whines about it to you every time so you’ll massage his back for him. He always wins you over.

He thinks he’s def undeserving  of you, your so sweet to him! He’s not used to women liking him just because you love him as a person himself. He’s had past girlfriends that just liked him for money benefits. Not you though, you literally freak out when he spends WAY too much on you “ John price!?— how much was this necklace??” And he always smiles and says “ don’t worry about it. “ he has learned lots of money saving tricks from you , he calls you a penny pincher LMAOO, he thinks it’s cute though you worry about him spending to much money like he doesn’t got enough.

He absolutely adores when you wear his hat , he thinks your the cutest thing on planet earth but dear god he’d never let you near any of the shit he does😭

You get along with 141 pretty well and it makes price really happy.

You’ve all been to the bar numerous of times and he likes watching you and soap bicker about stupid shit “ you..you eat lamb stomach?” “ ITS CALLED HAGGIS AND ITS GOOD!!”

Ghost and price giggling in the background.

They know how much you mean to there captain so they also would do anything to protect you

Your at a bar with them and some guy try’s talking to you and grabs your shoulder THEN HE JUST SEES A BUNCH OF TALL ASS GUYS GLARING HIM DOWN LMAOO let’s hope Buddy wore brown pants 🙏🏻

NSFW !!

Price lovesssssss eating you out , LITERALLY ANYWHERE IN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE. Especially if you had a shitty day at work , your in the shower trying to rinse off the day and suddenly you feel your not alone anymore..

Manz lifts you up on HIS SHOULDERS SO HE CAN EAT YOU OUT

He’s more dominant but he doesn’t mind you taking lead AT ALL

Man goes insane when you ride him

He can’t sleep , but you know he needs to. He hasn’t been sleeping much sense his last mission, he’s clearly stressed. Your hugging him..hugging turns to kissing. Kissing turns to groping, and then it turns to you ontop of him grinding against his bulge. “ fuck..let me take care of you, yeah?” You simply shake your head “ no captain. It’s time I take care of you.” He can’t deny your request when you look heavenly ontop of him. Helping each other slip off each other’s clothes, he loves looking at your tits , he finds how they feel so nice in his hands. He can’t help but grunt when you sit down on him and slowly begin to move your hips. His hands are gripped TIGHTLY against your hips. He can’t stop himself from using his hands to help move you and fuck you , he wants to be able to hit the deepest parts of you because honestly he fantasizes about getting your pregnant. He loves shooting a full load in you and praying you get pregnant, be there to take care of you , and most Importantly get to see a little baby made by you and him!!! Makes him go nuts , that’s why you and him fuck way too much around your cycle.

He is BIG into photos and videos of you.

He records videos of him fucking you and then watch them while he’s away, or he’ll take pictures to look at when he feels lonely on a trip!!!

He keeps a nude picture of you in his wallet ;)) soap was traumatized when price asked him to get something out his wallet and he found something HE DID NOT WANT TO SEE , soap has you and him down in his phone as ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ seeing that was horrific for him 😭😭

Thank you for reading <33 commissions open!!!

[twilightnesss]

₊˚.༄ pool party

pairing: kate martin x teammate!oc

summary: the las vegas aces throw a celebratory pool party for the 24-25 season. one of the guard’s catches the eye of rookie, kate martin.

warnings: r!cheating, makeout, hickeys. kinda fluff, kinda angst idk. no y/n (random name)

divider from @y2kgr4ph1cs

“okay guys, come try my drinks!” janelle yelled out to her team that was currently in the pool. my team and i were big on throwing parties. not necessarily always having something in particular to celebrate, just partying. today we were celebrating our team as a whole but more so our new rookie, kate martin. although she was a rookie, she got along with everyone on the team and fit in extremely well.

each individual drink was very versatile and made to all the girls liking. except kate since janelle didn’t know exactly was she liked, liquor wise. some of the team started to get out the pool to grab theirselves a drink, including martin. her eyes lingered on me for quite a bit until i handed her a drink that i thought she would like. “sorry i didn’t know what you would like so i made this just for you” she said earning a smile from kate. as she tasted the drink, her eyes lit up in satisfaction indicating that she favored the drink. “this is good thank you so much” janelle could tell that kate was such a sweet soul.

you feel yourself staring at her a little too long. analyzing all her features. her pretty blue eyes, big nose, rosy cheeks, and beautiful smile. finally she turns to meet my eyes & runs her tongue over her stained lips. you had to look down quickly to avoid her gaze since she made you so nervous.

her eyes ran up and down my body until she said “you’re not drinking” questioning me.

“oh no i’m not a big drinker” i laughed a bit. she put her drink down and grabbed my hand, leading me into the pool where everyone else sat. my best friend kiah eyed me but i just shook my head quickly. kate and i got into the group of all the girls and started chatting it up. through that afternoon we got drunk, danced, did tricks into the pool, and went live.

at around 7:30 when the sun started setting, the girls all chilled in the jacuzzi. kate had gotten out briefly but as she was getting back in, she held janelle’s waist firmly to steady herself. janelle got nervous beneath kate’s touch but tried to carry on her conversations casually.

the las vegas wind began to pick up stronger and stronger, making us all go inside. i grabbed towels for all of the girls before we all sat in the couch. megan had out on “Jane The Virgin” and all the girls payed attention. i guess kate had noticed i hadn’t grabbed a towel for myself and continued to sit next to me, wrapping her own towel around my body. “oh no! you didn’t have to do that, i’m okay” i said, my tone laced in concern. she just chuckled at my reaction and focused on the tv.

literally half an hour later, all the girls were asleep. only kate and i were left awake. i tried to stay focused on the show and ignore the fact that the most beautiful girl was sitting next to me.. let alone her thigh rubbing mine. unexpectedly, i felt her knuckles rubbing my thigh very subtly.

i turned my head to meet her eyes. she stared back and continued to put her entire hand on my thigh and rub it slowly. getting closer and closer to my heat. she pinched closer and closer to my face but i averted my head to whisper something into her ear. her eyes lit up after my sentence and stood up to follow me. my mind clouded. i didn’t know where to go with this.. until i stopped in the laundry room.

“sorry i didn’t know where to go. i don’t have sex with people i just met. but we haven’t just met. and we’re not having sex-” thank god my rambling was cut off my kate’s soft lips on mine. she held the sides of my face gently which made me melt amicably. i held her waist and pulled her into me more. one of her hands ran through my lush curls as we continued to makeout. soon enough she started to suck and nip on my exposed neck. “no marks” i managed to breath out. she hummed in response as she went lower, down to my chest.

i whimpered slightly at the sensation but stopped abruptly when i felt my phone vibrate nonstop in my pocket. kate felt it too because she grabbed my phone out of my pocket and stopped all motions.

her face harshened as she read who was specifically calling me. then she handed it to me and calmly said “solo read heart infinity sign is calling you” she sounded like siri but i reluctantly grabbed the phone and answered my boyfriend. “hey babe! yea yea i’m enjoying myself. no don’t come the girls are still here! no no i’ll just see you tomorrow. okay bye, love you”

throughout that whole conversation, kate stared at me the entire time. i couldn’t read her face. i didn’t know if she was mad or sad or plain didn’t care. that was until she spoke. “you have a boyfriend” she seemed concerned and sad i couldn’t even tell. i had no words in that moment, i couldn’t even look in her face. “alright then” she said quickly then left me in the bathroom.

i felt so bad.. wtf is wrong with me.

a/n: this is my first oneshot every so yes i know it is shitty and yes i know there is multiple pov changes and yes i know this is short and YES i know there’s not much dialogue. pls send requests cause i’m not very creative. i just need to get used to writing short length stories.. i will get better.

[stargirlrchive]

── FINE LINE w. SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

gender neutral reader

angst, hurt to comfort (kinda ig), smut, gif not mine

NSFW ✩ MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)

GENERAL MASTERLIST

simon’s steps echoed through the cobblestone as he walked aimlessly through the city he had become so familiar with. the lit cigarette warming him from the inside out as his thoughts ran wild.

his throat ached as memories of you continued to filter through his brain, like an old movie. vivid in the way that he could still feel it, still feel you.

his fingers gripping at your back as the two of you clung onto each other, touching and undressing to push back all the unspoken turmoil. his face tucked into your neck as he nipped and kissed at your throat. your body always so soft and fragile compared to his.

the two of you took what you needed from the other, and he was gone before you could both start to rationalize that this wasn’t good, it wasn’t healthy. not when you craved intimacy on a much grander scale and he was unwilling to give it to you.

your thighs wrapped around his waist as your lips parted and your soft mewls and moans rung loud in his ears. his cock rutting in and out of you in the way he knew you loved, in the way that made you sing for him.

his lips trailed upwards, towards your mouth and you tensed under him. no matter how wrapped up the two of you were with one another, he never kissed you.

always grunting about how it was too intimate, but as his lips fell flat against yours, your eyes filled with tears.

he was saying goodbye, you both knew it.

for so long this was all he could give you, only truly knowing him when your legs parted and he coaxed pleasure out of you. your tears were hot and thick as you clung to him. wishing with all your might that he’d realize in the last moment that he needed you just as much as you needed him.

he could be so cruel.

a soft sob broke from your mouth and he swallowed it down, kissing you harder. in his own way, trying to comfort you.

he built you up, coaxing body-numbing orgams out of you, making sure to leave you satiated since he knew this was the last time he was going to have you this way. this was the last time he’d let himself be tempted by you, by the promise of something constant and only his.

he couldn’t afford to keep you around, not when you had begun to weasel your way into his skin.

your fingers trailed all over him, as if trying to commit every scar and ridge of muscle to memory. you were far too good for him.

his thick ropes of come filling you as you trembled beneath him, your orgasm ripping out of you just in time with his as he held you close. he gave the two of you a few more seconds of closeness, nuzzling his face into your chest to press lingering kisses before he pulled away.

his eyes glazed over with indifference as he began to dress himself.

“you don’t have to go.”

“you know i do.”

it had been months since then, and simon was still unable to pluck you out of his thoughts, you had buried yourself into his very being and you refused to leave.

simon stopped as he finally made it to his destination, and maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him but everything looked brighter, he felt lighter.

the familiar building caused his heart rate to pick up, trying desperately to get to where he needed to be. back to you.

he didn’t give himself time to think about it too much, he knew if he did he wouldn’t have the courage to face you. his fingers in a tight, tense fist as he knocked on your door.

it took a few seconds but he could hear the soft patter of your feet, he would recognize them anywhere. the louder they got, the more nervous he grew.

as the door swung open his stomach dropped. the smile that had been on your face wiping away to one of complete shock.

your voice called out his name in question and simon’s eyes stung. your perfume hitting him and he swore he’s never smelled anything so sweet.

god, he fucking missed you.

his arms were wrapping around your waist before he could stop himself, his face digging into your neck as he trembled in your arms.

he was grateful that you didn’t tense, he didn’t know if he could handle that. instead your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, welcoming him home.

[suguwife]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮. (twelve)

tags: Gojo Satoru x f!reader, kpop idol x influencer, fake dating, 18+ mdni, desperate gojo, addiction, overdose, mentions of past abusive/toxic relationship, some fluff, angst, teasing, profanity, arguing, written chapter, smau series

- 10.8k wc

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - Gojo Satoru, a top idol, finds himself at the centre of a public scandal after being photographed in a club appearing intoxicated. Rumors of substance abuse quickly circulate, causing fans and the public to question his reliability and professionalism. Due to severe backlash, his PR team proposes a fake relationship with Y/N, a social media influencer renowned for her healthy lifestyle, to salvage his tarnished image, reduce suspicions and trick the public. However, trouble intensifies when he’s unable to let go of his addiction. - 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

(previous)

“Shall I come over?” Satoru's voice over the phone is casual, as if suggesting the most ordinary thing.

“And do what?”

“I don’t know. Anything. Maybe... give you a massage? It might help.”

He can’t possibly be serious, “Satoru, I was just joking before-”

“I’m not.” His tone is firm, leaving no room for doubt.

“But it’s so late?”

He huffs in frustration at your reluctance. “I don't care. I wasn't planning to sleep anyway. You're in pain. I can hear it. I'm coming over.”

“You don’t even know where I live.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you stretch your aching legs once more.

“Tell me.”

“You don’t need to-“

“Fine, I'll ask your manager.” He hangs up abruptly, leaving you staring at your phone in disbelief with furrowing brows. Does he really think he can just waltz up in here like it's no big deal?

But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want a massage. His hands are huge, it would surely feel like heaven.

And you can’t lie to yourself and say that you don’t miss him. Because you kind of do.

But you know him, he’s always flirting. What if you really do end up falling for him from his stupid flirtiness?

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in exhaustion as you try to massage your own sore muscles. But it’s futile and useless, your hands are too small, too tired, and too weak to press down hard enough.

Maybe you wouldn't mind if he massaged you. A free massage from the famous Gojo Satoru? Yes, please.

After around 7 minutes you hear a ring on your door, he's so fast.

You trudge over to your apartment door, rubbing your eyes as you do so. Once you open the door you see the tall man before you, looking down at you sympathetically.

He has a small bag in his hand with the medical plus sign designed onto it, “I told you, you didn’t have to..”

He sighs before he speaks "Yeah, I know. But you're in pain, I'm not just gonna ignore that, am I?” He holds up the bag in his hand, “Plus I bought some extra painkillers. The pharmacist said it's a stronger one to help with bone pain so... worth trying."

God, how cute can he get?

He didn’t need to do that, you already have medication for your disease at home, you’ve taken everything and nothing's worked. “Which ones?”

He pulls out the package, checking the name of the medication "Uh... This one- Naproxen sodium. Have you tried this one before?"

“Uhm.. I don’t think I can use that..”

“Why not?”

“I don’t usually take it.. I'm allergic to the stuff inside it.”

“Okay, I'll be right back.”

“Wait no it’s fine-“ but he’s already left, his long strides quickly placing him into the elevator as soon as you step out to stop him, and the doors have shut.

What is wrong with this man? You run your hand over your face, leaving the door open for him. Then you make your way to your couch, staring at the door as you wait, cracking your toes to relieve the pain.

He really did just drive all the way here past midnight to give medication, just to leave again and get another one.

Thoughtful.

He comes back, panting a little for breath, his hair slightly dishevelled as if he ran up a thousand stairs, “Okay, I’m back..” he says as he takes off his shoes then walks inside, closing the door behind him, the lock automatically keeping you both together, inside.

He crouches down next to you so his face is in your view whilst you stay sat on your couch. He’s so damn beautiful it's hypnotising.

There's a soft, tired smile on your face now as you look at him whilst he speaks, “I got you tylenol, they said it’s safe and can ease muscle pain. Is that okay?”

You chuckle looking down at him, “Yes, that’s fine. But I told you, you didn’t have to. Seriously.”

He huffs slightly, getting frustrated again, “For the 100th time, I know that I didn't need to come here. But I wanted to. Why can't you just accept that I want to help?”

“You don't accept mine.”

He sighs as he goes silent, instead placing the bag on the coffee table and walking towards your open plan kitchen, filling up a glass of water for you. “I'm sorry, okay? I know I'm stubborn about accepting help. But why can't you accept it from me just once?”

Because you don’t need it. You can do everything on your own, you always have.

There’s a difference between you and Satoru.

You don’t need help and do most things independently, because there’s no health risks and you know how to deal with yourself.

Satoru doesn’t accept help at all because he’s scared of showing his weakness, and he’s unable to manage his health risks, unable to deal with his issues in a healthy manner.

“Just let me play the caregiver or something? You're always trying to take care of me, so let me try taking care of you for once.”

“I could literally just go to sleep, it's not that serious.” Because it’s not, your muscles don’t hurt that much. Just a little, enough pain that you can cope with because you have been for years.

“It is serious,” He says, walking back towards you with the glass of water, crouching in front of you again. “Just... just take the pills. Here.”

He hands you two pills and the glass of water, watching you carefully as you swallow them down.

Is he doing this out of guilt?

He takes the glass from you, placing it on the table for you, then helps you to stand up, his large single hand on the small of your back guiding you back to your bedroom in silence.

You can’t say you want him to stop and leave you alone, even if it’s out of guilt. It feels nice, being cared for by another man after so long.

Did Naoya ever care for you like this? You can’t even remember. All you remember is how he sounded when he yelled, and how it felt to have his rough hands knock against your fragile skin.

Gently, he sits you on the bed, his hand still on your back as he looks at you, but you don’t meet his gaze and look down instead, a little shyness growing within you at his stare.

“The pharmacist said the effects of the pills should kick in after a while. Do you still want that massage?”

Oh my god he’s serious. You were just joking… or were you? A massage doesn't sound too bad, especially when it’d be from him.

You can’t even make your own decisions when it comes to him, he's got that effect on you. This isn’t normal for you. You’re always able to decide on things, but when it comes to him.. fuck he’s messing your mind up!

“Uh.. well.”

“Is that a yes?” He says, his face leaning closer to the side of your cheek. His warmth brushing onto your skin and you shiver ever so slightly, hoping he didn’t notice.

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, I'm not just gonna sit here and watch you be uncomfortable. The pills may work or they may not, you'll be uncomfortable until then either way, so let me try something to maybe make that discomfort a bit less intense.”

Oh, so now he’s somehow educated on health?? But not with himself?

“Go on, lie on your back and I'll massage you.”

Okay.. you will.

You lay on your back, looking at him tiredly as he looks at you with nothing but a tender care in his eyes.

“Where does it hurt the most?”

“Down here..” you point at your legs and then your ankles. Your eyes notice his Adam's apple bob up and down, swallowing. You have to hold back your laugh because this whole situation is just so unrealistic, but he’s the one that suggested a massage. It's not your fault if he feels nervous.

He lifts your silk nightdress up slightly so it reveals your knees, fingers brushing over your skin like a feather making you tense up just, but not enough for him to notice.

“Right, so I'll start here then, yeah?” His hands are gently placed and wrapped around your left calf, “I'll be gentle.”

“I’ll be so gentle..” Get that reminder out of your head. You’re not in the car, he’s not hovering over you, you’re not going to fuck again.

You feel him knead into the tense muscles of your legs and you face slightly and exhaling heavily at the pain as he carefully continues working.

“Bear with the pain for a little more, ‘Kay?”His voice is so soft right now, so soothing and calm.. you want him to talk more, you want his breath against your skin as he speaks, want his hands to never leave your skin.

Oh god, stop it.

You don’t want that. Or do you? No idea. You’re still too scared to get into another real relationship after Naoya. You’re still scared of the issues behind Satoru’s addiction.

Not scared as in you’ll hate him and run away from fear, scared out of worry, scared that he’d slip away from this earth because of his addiction.

It just seems to be increasing the pain in your muscles.

Gojo Satoru POV

My eyes glance over to her toes curling up, cracking the pain away. They’re so beautiful. She’s so beautiful. Every inch of her.

I should write a song about her, one day. I will. I’ll do just that.

I keep up the massage, applying a gentle but firm pressure to work the sore muscles, moving down her legs to her ankles. Her damn skin.. it’s so.. so smooth. Oh and that dress. That simple silk nightdress she’s wearing is so damn beautiful on her. She’s going to drive me mad.

She already has, she’s driven me mad already and has no idea.

My eyes then glance over to her bare face, relaxing.. breathing heavily with slightly furrowed brows, her breath letting out small sighs of relief, hoping this is a good sign that I’m actually doing something positive. “Helping?” And she nods at me, relief washing over my body almost immediately.

“Let me try the other one now, alright?” I move my hands over to her right leg now, working from the ankle to the knee, “Tell me if it hurts too much though.”

“No.. feels good.” She says, eyes shut in bliss.

“Shall I do your thighs as well?” She nods again, eyes still shut.

I swallow down painfully, my mind momentarily distracted again. I have to silently curse myself because I can’t seem to stop my mind from being distracted by her, which I know is stupid when she’s in pain and I’m supposed to be here to help.

But it’s a little hard to focus when it comes to her.

Gently, I lift her nightdress more up, I don’t know why my breath hitches. We’ve had sex before, but the car was pretty dark, I couldn’t see her skin this clearly.

After my palms begin to massage into the flesh of her thighs, she begins to stretch out and groan, and fuck, my thoughts just become even more distracted. My body wants to do things it shouldn’t be doing when she’s in pain. I try to keep my focus and speak through clenched teeth, “Does it hurt when you stretch out?”

“Just hurts.. I don’t know.”

“Just lie still and let me try easing the pain out..”

I carefully start to massage her inner thigh, kneading the muscles to try and ease the pain, my fingers gliding over the smoothness of her skin, fighting the urge to let my thoughts drift off to something sinful, but they already are.

Stupid.

But she just looks so damn enticing like this, she feels so amazing under my skin.

I want to feel her like this forever.

As she continues to let out sighs, I move my hands towards her hips, using both hands to knead the muscles, trying my hardest to keep focus.

Honestly, I’m so stupid for suggesting this, I’m already sweating just a little from looking at her like this. All laid on the bed for me to touch her skin.

I just want to kiss every inch of her delicate skin, from her head to her toes. And I want to kiss her slowly, sensually, to savour the moment, to show my love.

My mind grows hazy as I massage the top of her hip and the sound of her breaths growing heavier, my mind becomes lost in the feeling of her skin under my fingers, the sight of her figure and my urges only grow stronger.

God she’s so perfect, is it insane for me to see a future with her already?

“Does it hurt everywhere?” I ask, and she nods again.

“Everywhere? Your whole body?” And she nods again as I continue to push and knead the bottom of my palm against her tense muscles.

I know I should be doing this to help ease her pain, but my mind can’t help but admire her like this. When I push down hard enough to make her legs twitch.

I can’t help my feelings. Can’t help this magnetic attraction towards her.

It’s cute how she scrunches her facial expressions and furrows her brows, but I hate that she’s in pain right in front of me yet these are the sinful thoughts my mind wants to run to.

I just want to touch her more, to massage her with my lips and kisses instead, to tell her how beautiful she is, to tell her how I feel every time I’m near her. To tell her how I feel when she’s not near me.

But I have to hold back these urges, knowing she’ll just shut me down because of that damn contract.

How is this all fake to her? How is this all normal? Is this even a fake relationship between us both?

How?

The way she groans out ever so slightly as my hands knead firmly down on her hip bone makes it harder for me to keep myself in check.

What are you doing to me sweetheart…?

My body wrestles with itself, her body twitching a little under my hands and the faint sounds of her pleasure as I knead against the tension in her bones are too distracting to focus on the real task at hand.

Sighing, I desperately grit my teeth for something to hold on to whilst my hands continue their ministrations.

“Fuck.. fuck it’s killing me.. I’m sorry, the massage isn’t helping anything..” She groans out, eyes squeezing shut and back open again as she sits up.

“It’s okay.. I’m just sorry that I haven’t been able to actually ease your pain. Does this usually happen?”

“Thanks it’s okay, and yeah it does.”

My poor, sweet girl. I’d do anything to take it away, anything she’d ask me to do. I’d do it.

Apart from fully getting off drugs, I’m not so sure about that.

“How does it feel?”

“Feels like.. like a big boulder being pushed down onto me.”

I watch as she cracks her toes, wrists and fingers again, noticing how she flexes and curls them in pain.

My eyes analyse every small, faint wrinkle in her knuckles, the gloss of her baby pink nail polish, the way her nails are curved rather than sharp or squared or broken. I stare in admiration for how well kept her hands are.

Beautiful.

Every inch of her.

Nothing could ever make me change my mind on that.

That day I had seen her at the celebration party for reaching 100 million views, she had already caught my eye.

The way her hair hung from her shoulders, the way her posture was always so upright and perfect, the way I could see her eyes glistening from a distance, the way the corner of her lips were always upturned, always smiling at anyone who’d talk to her.

I could see the shine of her skin back then from a distance, and I can still see it now, even when she’s in pain and not doing so well.

She always manages to keep herself looking her best, always so elegant in everything she does.

When we talked to each other whilst she congratulated us for our success, her voice was so smooth and soft, so sweet and gentle.

I just wanted to pull her into a private area and make love to her.

But I didn’t.

I should’ve made a move on her back then.

She didn’t come to our other celebration when we hit 1 billion views, I still don’t know why. Did they even invite her? Did she decline? Did she purposely not come?

But it’s okay, fate seemed to have brought us back together over my scandal and although we barely know each other it feels as though I’ve known her since I was a child.

It feels like I’ve always known her.

This magnetic pull towards her is too strong, too strong for only a week of being in this “fake” relationship.

“Does anything help with the pain?”

“.. I usually hug my teddy. It sounds childish, I know, but I threw it away so.”

Oh you sweet girl, it doesn’t sound childish at all to me, it’s cute. Just another thing to add to my list on why I like her.

“Why'd you throw it away?”

“My ex gave it to me.”

A hint of jealousy slithers into my mind almost immediately at another man, but he’s your ex, so it’s fine, right? I end up clenching my jaw anyway, “Well, you don’t want anything that reminds you of him.”

“Nope.” She says casually, popping the ‘P’ and I don’t miss the way she avoids eye contact with me at the mention.

She lays back down and I place the bottom of my palm on her lower abdomen this time, the only thing separating my hand from her skin being the thin material of her clothes. “Why’d you break up?” I question as I begin to knead into the area, causing a gasp to escape her pretty lips.

Oh. A sensitive area.

Oh fuck.

I continue to push down and knead into the area casually, repeating the question like normal but with a little bit of jealousy and curiosity, “Why’d you break up?”

She’s panting now, eyelids fluttering as she scrunches her face, “That.. that area’s sensitive.” She gasps out, squirming and twitching her legs.

“Sensitive?” Oh, I know that, but I can’t seem to stop, I just continue, pushing harder and eliciting a groan to come out those plush, tainted lips again.

Those lips I want to taste with a lick when she has a sweet drink. Those lips I so badly just want to bite, kiss and make sore. Those lips I want to feel nibble every freckle and line on my skin. Those lips I so badly want to wake up to every damn morning.

She moans.

She moans out a whine, squirming more as I push down even further beneath her stomach.

It felt like something had snapped inside me as I heard her, the sight of her body moving and twisting under my hands, the sound of her small moans and whimpers, all working together to drive me absolutely crazy.

Crazy.

Her moans are like music to my ears, almost intoxicating. Almost like a drug that I need for myself at all times.

I can’t help myself. Can't control myself.

What’s happened to me?

Now I place both hands on her beneath her stomach, moving the bottom of palms up and down into her tight muscles, too focused on enjoying seeing her body jump and twitch under my touch, the sound of her whimpers and whines getting more and more intense, almost forgetting that this massage was to ease her pain.

I lean my head down as I continue, my face inching closer to her ear, “Sensitive, u said?” I whisper, a subtle smirk playing on my lips.

I can’t hold back anymore, she makes it too damn hard for me to do so.

How could anyone possibly hold back from her beauty? From her sweet and kind heart?

“Satoru, you idiot!” She yells through a whine, face scrunched in pleasure and annoyance and it only fuels me further.

Oh, kind.

I know I’m acting stupid right now, but I’m enjoying myself way too much sweetheart.

I admire the way her body jumps and the muscles twitch as I push into her lower abdomen.

Shit.

I continue pushing and kneading my fingers down below her belly button, my other palm flat on the mattress beside her arm as I looms over, feeling a sense of satisfaction as she whines and squirm, “Like this?”

“You still didn’t tell me why you broke up with him.”

Oh, she doesn’t even respond to me! Too filled with the sensations I’m giving that she whines to, small whimpers escaping too.

I love the sounds she makes, “Answer me,” I say firmly, “You still haven’t told me why.”

I circle and press down the pads of my fingers in a quick pace on her lower abdomen, her moans getting louder and louder. “Tell me.”

“Y-you don’t need to know.” She finally speaks through a gasp but it only makes me clench my jaw, jealousy hissing through my veins. Is that love? It has to be.

It is. I know it.

I am in love with her.

I’ve never felt like this about anyone, it has to be love.

“I do. I want to know.”

Her hips and legs jerk, and I smirk.

I’m so lost sweetheart, my mind and body are at complete loss at this point, my thoughts going crazy each time her body arches and twists slightly under my touch, everytime she gasps or whimpers when I push my fingers down onto the area.

She’s so high off my massage that she can’t even get up.

God.. she always seems to tense up or shiver when I touch her. What does that mean?

What am I doing?

“Satoru- S-stop massaging that area you dick!” She moans out through a whine, panting heavily.

But I can’t help myself, I press my fingers down, knead and release again, continuing as I knead down and she’s still gasping and panting, “Does it not feel good?”

A thrill runs into me as she moans louder and I press harder against the sensitive spot, “You love it, don’t you?”

“That’s enough..”

“Really?” But I press down again, and she’s moaning again.

She lifts herself up on her elbows, panting breath, parted lips half lidded eyelids, furrowed brows.

Beautiful.

“Look, you're getting all worked up over a simple massage y/n.”

I knead deeper into her abdomen again, watching as her body lifts up slightly, the small groan escaping her lips.

“What if we had sex again?”

“What the hell!”

“I’m just kidding..” Too far?

“Are you still high on that.. that fucking heroin?”

“I did take a lot sweetheart, but I’m not high.” I don’t stop my massage, even if she’s lifted herself up.

“Fuck- stop it.”

“But I think I’m getting addicted to how you sound.” I say as she lays back down again, her body obviously too weak to hold itself up whilst I continue kneading deep into her sensitive area.

“I’m not.. a fucking drug.” She says through gasps. Oh but she is.

I chuckle as she speaks, all flushed from just my hands, “You sure about that? ‘Cause I’m feeling pretty goddamn high right now. You're acting and sounding like a drug right now.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” She says, staring at me with confusion and annoyance across her face.

Oh god, I know I’m not making sense but I simply can’t get myself to care anymore, I’m too lost.

I smirk as I speak, staring into those beautiful eyes of hers, “It means that you’re just as mind-numbing and addictive as a drug.”

“You're speaking through lust ‘cause.. you’re high.”

I chuckle, shaking my head slightly, my heartbeat knocking against my chest. “Its not lust.. You probably don’t realise but you really do drive me insane and numb me at the same time. It’s weird isn’t it? Having known each other for only a week yet I feel so much towards you y/n.”

I don’t care anymore, I’m saying what’s on my mind. I don’t care.

I have to, I can’t hold it in anymore.

I love her, I know I do.

“Shut up.. you don’t mean any of that.”

How can she say that? Such a clueless woman lost in denial.

“Oh but I do sweetheart. I mean every word.”

She lifts herself up on her elbows again, is she going to kiss me?

Oh.

I jerk slightly once her palm reaches my cheek harshly, it was the last thing I expected, really.

A slap from the woman I love, why did I love it? Why do I want to feel it again?

Why did she even slap me? Did I go too far?

“You can do that again if you like” I say, half amused.

But her gaze on me is sharp, “Stop it, Satoru. I’m being serious.”

The sound of my name leaving her lips only makes me smirk more, it just sounds so perfect. Like my name was made for her to say, and only her

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.” I chuckle slightly as I move my hands away from her skin, “But why do you have to act so goody two shoes about this whole thing? It's not like anyone would know. I mean nothing happened after we had sex in my-“

“Because!” She cuts me off, sitting properly now.

My eyes narrow as I stare at her being unable to give a proper explanation, “Well? Because what?”

“We don’t know each other.”

“But we do know each other.” I can’t help but feel ticked off, we do know each other. We do. I know her, I’m sure of it.

“You're moving way too fast..” She sighs out, palm on her forehead.

“I don’t really care if I’m moving too fast. So what? I like you, do you like me?” It just slipped out, is that how I’m going to confess? It sounded shitty.

I need to do better.

“You’re so unserious. This whole relationship is to fix your image because you..” and you nudge your finger into my chest, “.. got caught doing drugs.”

Fine, I’ll be serious, sweetheart.

Just like you want.

My jaw grits at her words, frustrated. Mainly because she sounds so serious and uptight about this whole thing, and I can’t tell whether she dislikes me or is genuinely concerned because she cares.

“Yeah, I was caught doing drugs, so what? That’s my own goddamn life y/n. What right do you have to tell me what to do?”

She sighs, moving to lean against her headboards. “You just took everything I said the completely wrong way. I’m saying, you’re moving too fast. This relationship is to fix your image and for me to help you. That's all. Not for sex.”

Did I make it seem like I only want her for sex?

I look at her, she’s only here to fix my image. That's all.

“So you don’t care about me do you? You’re only here for me because of some stupid contract?”

“What? That’s not what I said.”

I scoff, trying to maintain my composure, “Then what are you saying? You’re only here to fix my image is that all? So you don’t actually care about me?” Here, I thought she would’ve liked me back.

Maybe I am thinking too far ahead of myself.

God, you’re so stupid, Satoru.

“I am here to fix your damn image, and because I do care, I wouldn’t have tried to save your fucking life a couple hours ago if I didn’t care.”

I look at her for a moment, my eyes scanning and studying her face to look for any signs of lies, any sign that she’s not telling the truth, but I can’t find one.

“You’re only here because you care.. because you care about me.” I say to myself slowly, my anger slowly disappearing as realisation finally sinks in.

“Not for sex.” She says.

I scoff jokingly, a small smile on my lips. Oh sweetheart, I know that. I’d never see her for just sex, is that what she thinks? Is that what I sound like? A sex freak?

“Yeah, yeah I know not for sex.” My tone switches from being light-hearted to serious, my eyes staring into yours, my words soft but firm, “And you care. About me.”

She stares back at me with confusion, and I just stare back with admiration behind my straight face. “You care. About me.”

“Why do you keep saying that? Of course I care about you I’ve been trying to help since the start.”

My lip curl up into a smile, a strange warmth going through my body, “Yeah you have, but I wasn’t sure if you cared about me because I was addicted or if you cared about me as a person.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Well I wasn’t sure if you were trying to help me solely because I’m an addict or whether you have feelings for me.”

“I don’t have feelings for you, Satoru.”

Her face is emotionless, my lips falling back into a straight line.

Don’t lie to me sweetheart.

“Right.. you don’t.. right..”

She sighs again, “Didn’t we both agree that hookup was meaningless?”

I looks into her eyes again, my mind completely scrambled as I looks for the right words to say. I don’t want to admit that I’ve been feeling something since the beginning if she’ll just shut me down like this. But it’s getting so hard to deny.

Why should I deny it anyway? I know how I feel.

“Well.. no, no it wasn’t meaningless to me.”

“Well it was Satoru. I’m sorry.”

I can’t help the gritting of my jaw at her words. My heart is starting to hurt now. What is she doing to me.

“Fine, it was meaningless. But tell me, how do you feel about me?”

“I see you as a friend, that I need to help, and that I worry about.”

She keeps denying.

Keeps. Denying.

“Just a friend? Nothing more?”

She nods, looking away.

She’s looking away, she’s looking away from me. She doesn’t want to face me.

She doesn’t want to admit it.

I know her. I’m sure of it.

But fine, keep denying it.

“Right.. just a friend. Got it.”

She continues to refuse to meet my eyes again, the both of us sitting in silence for a moment.

But it hurts, to have her deny like this. It feels like my heart is being stabbed a thousand times at her denial, it’s overwhelming.

The room feels as if it’s closing around me and all of a sudden I need to leave. “I'll go home, it's late. The tylenol should have hit and eased your muscles by now.”

I stand up from the bed and begin walking out the bedroom, wanting to get the hell out. It’s so suffocating.

“..I’m sorry.” She says quietly from the bed as I reach her door frame.

My feet stop in their tracks. I don’t say anything straight away, keeping my back to her, clenching my jaw and gripping my hand into a tight fist, trying to contain myself.

“Don’t apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Why does she always apologise?

My feet continue walking, heading towards the entrance of her apartment.

But my hand stops on the door handle and I pause. I stand there silently for a moment trying to understand what I’m feeling. A wave of mixed emotion overcome me.

I’ve never felt so many powerful and confusing emotions all at once, and it isn’t till now till I fully realise that all I want right now is to turn around and grab her and pull her back down onto the bed in my arms and to kiss her senseless.

The drugs.. they’re still in my system, it’s messing my mind and I need to be near her to calm me down.

But I can’t. I can’t calm down.

I love her, I can’t bear to let her go like this. I need her to give me a chance.

I need her to realise she likes me too, even if it’s not love.

Because I know she feels something towards me too, I just know it.

I need to do something.

I stand there for a moment longer, wrestling with the thoughts inside my mind, but eventually decide to throw all my restraint out the window. I can’t take it anymore sweetheart. I just can’t.

You’ve driven me crazy, and I need you to know what you’ve done to me.

I quickly turn around walking back towards her bedroom, she’s stood there, head down and about to shut the door before I stop her.

I need to confess to her properly, maybe then she’ll truly understand

My fingers quickly take hold of her wrist, tugging her towards me causing her to stumble against my chest, a desperate look in my eyes as I stare into hers full of confusion.

Oh god, she's just so.. so beautiful. So precious. So perfect. I can’t let her go like this. I can’t just be “friends” by contract.

“What the- Aren’t you leaving?” She says, staring up at me wide eyed with furrowed brows.

But she’s not pushing me away, she’s not writhing her arms telling me to let go of her.

Just as I expected.

I know she feels for me too.

My body towers over her as I look into her eyes with desperation, “I can’t.”

“What? Satoru get out.” She says, calmly. She’s so precious.

Ignoring her command, my hands take hold of both her wrists, pulling her closer, her body pressed against mine.

“Please y/n.. Please...” I say quietly as my breath brushes against her skin. I can feel her heartbeat, it’s so rapid, just like mine.

I hold her wrists tighter, needing her closer to me, needing to feel her body against mine, the pain in my heart is becoming too unbearable.

I bury my face into her neck as I wrap my arms around her waist, inhaling her heavenly body scent and relishing in the feeling of her body against mine. I allow myself to feel as much as possible, the pain in my heart slowly disappearing as I realise how addicting it is to feel her in my arms, how she smells, how she is.

The feeling of her warmth calms me, almost like a sedative.

She doesn’t move, doesn’t push me off her, doesn’t tense up, but I feel her shiver, I feel the flutter of her skin and I hear the hitch of her breath as I nuzzle into her neck further.

My grip around her waist tightens. It feels like I’ll never get the chance to hold her again like this. My mind is numb, only filled with nothing but her smell, the feeling of her body, the sound of her breathing.

I can’t let her go, I will never let her go.

“Please.. Can’t I be selfish just this once? Just this once.. please.” I just want to hold her, to feel her. That’s all. Just to hold her and for her to hold me back.

“You already are selfish.”

I pull my head away from her neck and stare into her eyes again. I’m silent for a moment, but eventually speak again in a soft, pleading tone, “What? ‘Cause I take drugs?” And she doesn’t respond, she doesn’t look at me. Averting her gaze elsewhere.

“What does that have anything to do with this? How does that have anything to do with me wanting to be greedy with you right now?”

“You're acting on being high you’re not sober right now-“

I scoff in slight disbelief at her words. My heart clenches.

She’s telling me that I’m only holding her like this because I have drugs in my system, that I wouldn't be doing this if I were sober.

That's not true, I know that I’m sober enough, enough to know my own feelings at least.

I love her. I do. This has to be love I’m feeling because I’ve never felt such intensity towards anyone else. I’ve never acted intensely when it’s come to anyone else.

“You don't know if that's why I'm doing this.”

“You literally overdosed earlier, they’re in you, you’re high.”

“Yeah.. Okay? And? That doesn't mean I can’t think clearly right now. I’m sober. I know what I’m doing.” Oh, if only she knew the reason why I overdosed.

God she drives me mad.

“No you don’t Satoru. Go home already.”

I scoff again, my arms instinctively tightening around her further, my body refusing to release her from my hold. The feeling of her body against mine is so damn addictive and I can't get enough of it.

“I'm not going. I'm too selfish, remember?”

The feeling of her body against mine is driving me crazy but numb at the same time, my mind consumed with nothing but the need to have her closer and closer, the more I can feel, the more I can breathe her in, the better. I just want to melt into her.

I bury my face back into her neck, nuzzling into her skin, inhaling her scent and the moment I do, it’s as if I just snorted something so mind numbing it’s made me go haywire.

I can't help it, I can't hold back anymore. God, I need her so bad. I need her to understand how I feel, how mad she drives me.

I need her to understand.

I push her against the wall of her bedroom, trapping her between the wall and my body, my hands grip her hips now, my face so incredibly close to the warmth of hers.

Our hearts beat and knock against each other, our heavy breaths colliding.

“Satoru I’m being serious we can’t.. the contract..”

I’m getting tired of hearing her mention that damn contract or the fact that this is a fake relationship, the more times she says it, the more my heart feels like it's being stabbed over and over again. I just want to just hold her and never let go.

I stare into her eyes with sadness and desperation as I speak quietly, “But I'm being serious too. why can't I just have you..?”

“I don’t feel anything for you so stop it now!” She yells into my face.

I freeze, my eyes full of desperation but still unwilling to give up on her because I know she feels for me. I just know it.

Gut feeling.

Reader POV

“I’m being serious..” You say, a slight hesitation in your voice.

What does he even want?

He keeps staring into your eyes with that sad, desperate look. “It’s been a week, Satoru. A week. You need to calm down. Go home please” You say, concern etched into your face as you speak.

“Calm down? How can I calm down when the feeling of you in my arms is driving me insane. You want me to calm down, but I can't. Tell me, are you sure you don't feel anything, really? Is this really all just fake to you?”

“I don’t.” Maybe you do feel something for him, but how can you be so sure? It's just mere attraction, but who wouldn’t be attracted to him?

He lets out a strangled scoff at your words, “Bullshit. I don't believe you. You don't have the slightest feeling towards me? Not one drop of care or affection you feel towards me?"

What is he even talking about?

“I’ve told you this, Satoru. Of course I care about you, as a friend. Why are you moving so fast? You’re taking everything out of proportion as if we’ve known each other for months.” You need to shut him down before he escalates any further, need to make him understand.

“I’m not moving too fast. You don’t get it, you don’t understand how I feel.”

What is he actually even talking about right now?

“I think I love you.”

You freeze, he doesn’t mean that. He does not mean that.

How can he just say those three words with such ease?

“What?”

“God.. you don’t understand how I feel at all.” He’s inching his face closer to you now.

Love? Is he serious right now? It’s been a little over a week.

“Yeah, I don’t. Who falls in love with someone after a week of knowing them?” Because what? He's being illogical.

His grip on your hips tighten, a shiver running through your skin forming goosebumps on your arms, "I do, okay? I feel like my heart is being crushed when you say you don't feel the same way because I know you do, you just want to deny it. I'm desperate for you, l'm so unbelievably desperate for you, you just don't understand.”

What?

Is he going insane? What is he talking about? You can’t even seem to think.

“I'm so desperate for you my heart hurts, I can't handle it if you only view me as a friend, I need you to feel for me more than that...l need you to feel more for me…”

What the hell is he saying?

You stand there, shocked, confused, muddled as he pulls you closer against him.

Suddenly everything feels hot, his breath against your face, his hands on your body, why does your body feel so limp under his touch?

He buries his head back into the crook of your neck, nuzzling his face into your skin and you can feel his heart pounding against yours.

"You don't get it.” He mumbles into your neck, tone filled with need and a slight tremble in his voice, “You don't understand the things you're making me feel. My mind can't function right when I'm near you. I can't think of anything else other than you when im near you. I can't sleep at night without you in my mind... I can't focus on anything other than how you make me feel everytime I’m around you and I need more... I need more of you-"

“You’re just high, Satoru.” He can’t possibly mean any of that, it makes no sense to you.

How can anyone be so desperate for someone.. in such a short amount of time? How can he be so desperate for you out of all people?

Abruptly, he pushes you against the wall again making your breath hitch, his body pressing hard against yours, pinning you between him and the wall.

“No, l'm not listening to this anymore. Stop telling me I'm high or whatever. I'm telling you I'm not. I'm thinking completely clearly right now, I need you to understand, I don't care if it's been a week. I'm feeling these feelings for you and they're eating me up.”

“Why? Why do you even feel that?” Why is this escalating so far.

He looks at you as you look back at him, his eyes piercing into yours as he looks into your face, his arms wrapped around you, holding you against the wall, "Why? Why do you think!? Because I don't control the way I feel towards you. You're like a drug, you've got me addicted to you. Look what you’re fucking doing to me.”

Who is this man? This isn’t Satoru..

“I’m not a fucking drug. Don’t you dare say that.”

“You are to me. You've got me addicted alright. I physically cannot control myself around you anymore. The moment I'm in your presence it's like every thought disappears from my mind except you...your body, your scent, you, I'm addicted to it, I'm addicted to you.”

He can’t.. be serious. You don’t even know how to respond. Your mind is just full of questions, why is he confessing his love?

Why does he love you? You’ve barely done anything to make him feel that way. This man is insane.

He buries his face into your neck again and you can’t help but relish in the feeling of his warmth melting into you, his hands roaming all over your body, his fingers gripping your hips, your waist, your arms, anything.

But a drug? Addictive? How can he say those words and link them to love? Has he grown that attached to them?

“No.. no, Satoru. Don’t you dare refer to me as something that’s killing you.” You say, your eyes glancing down at him with furrowed brows as nuzzles into your neck, but he chuckles. The vibration of it going right to your core.

What is happening right now. What is happening.

“My sweet girl.. you are killing me.” He mumbles against your skin, “You’re killing me as we speak, destroying me when you keep denying your feelings for me that I can so obviously see, you keep denying yourself.”

“.. What?”

“You heard me. You're driving me crazy, making me feel insane, desperate...addicted, don't you get it? You're consuming my mind. You’re making me go fucking insane, got me acing like a desperate pathetic fool.”

You stare at him, confusion and shock running through your blood and displayed on your face. You can’t seem to understand anything right now, can’t even process his words properly.

“I don’t understand you-“

His hold on your hip tightens, your bodies flushed against each other as he lifts his head to meet your eyes again, “You honestly don't understand? you don't get it? You're killing me, you're driving me insane, making me want to lose my damn mind...you're doing things to me that nobody's ever done before, you're making me feel things that I never knew existed.”

“Satoru stop, just get out.” You don’t want a love confession, you won’t even be able to handle it or respond.

He needs to leave.

“Don’t tell me to get out.” He says, his teeth gritting as he speaks.

“Satoru I don’t have feelings for you and the contract-“

“To hell with the damn contract! Stop mentioning that thing.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t care about the contract y/n. I don’t.”

“Well I care.”

“Well I'm tired of listening to you going on about that contract all the time. I've said I don't care about it, why can't you just listen to me? The more you mention it, the more irritated I get, I don't want to hear it, I don't want anymore talk about the contract when all I want is you.” He says, his eyes turning from frustrated to pained.

“How is all this just.. just so casual to you? Everything we do, how is it all fake to you?”

“Satoru-“

“Y/n you’re driving me insane. You’re killing me.”

“Don’t say that, you don’t mean that, you’re too drugged to think straight-“

“You're turning me into a desperate, pathetic fool.”

You don’t respond, staring at him in confusion and irritation, his face so close to yours it’s almost making it difficult to breathe.

"Do you want to know why I overdosed? The real reason?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Guess why I overdosed, really.”

“What? Why do I need to guess that?”

“Because you’ve made me fucking desperate, so guess why I overdosed.”

You stare at him, lips parted, brows furrowed and widened eyes filled with concern as you breathe heavily at his tightened grip and close proximity. “Stop it.”

“No...no I won't stop. I want you to hear this, and I want you to realise how much of a grip you have on me, how much you're affecting me. So tell me, guess why I overdosed earlier. Go on.”

Is he trying to torture you?

You don’t want to guess, don’t want to think anymore.

His words linking to his overdose. He can’t be serious.

How much you affect him? You’re driving him insane? You’re killing him? A week within knowing each other?

Is he crazy?!

You exhale as you look down, not wanting to answer his question. Because of you?

How does that make sense? Your chest tightens and clenches at the thought. He can not be serious. None of this makes sense.

“Stop it, Satoru. You’re not making any sense..”

He tilts his head, his eyes locked onto you and you can feel his gaze just burning and lasering into you, his body still pinning you against the wall.

“No I won't stop, I can't stop. I'm done holding back, I want you to see… I want you to know how crazy I am for you. So tell me, tell me why I overdosed.”

You can feel your eyes brim with tears at his words, your brows stuck in their knit of irritation and concern. Your heart feels so.. so tight, like as if the bones in your body are wrapping around the organ.

No..

You can’t possibly have this effect on him. It doesn’t make sense. It’s too much.

Too much for just a week.

He grabs your chin tightly, making you look up and forcing you to meet his gaze again, “Don't look away from me, look me in the eye when you answer me.”

This is Satoru?

Slowly, his head leans closer, the skin of his forehead pressing against yours with gentle ease, his eyes piercing down into yours and your breath quickens.

“Say it...say it out loud why I overdosed.” He says quietly, clear for you to hear but almost a desperate whisper, “Say that I overdosed because of you...say it.”

Oh my god.

Your breath hitches as he answers it clearly for you. The bottom of your lip and hands trembling in complete terror.

“No.. no you didn’t.” And before you even know it, your eyes are burning and tear filled with a combination of confusion, horror and sadness as you turn your head away from him, staring at your bedroom door instead of him. Too afraid to meet those blue eyes of his.

How could he do such a thing over you? This man is insane.

Why would he even tell you that? To prove his damn insanity of love to you??

“Don't look away from me.. don’t you dare look away from me.” His hand is gentle as he places it onto the skin of your cheek, forcing you with ease to turn and look back at his face as you tremble, yet his voice is firm, his words are terrifying. "Look me in the eye and tell me why I overdosed. Now. I want to hear it from your lips, want you to know how mad you have me for you that you just can’t seem to grasp. The things you do to me y/n.. it’s all so new to me.”

“Satoru.. What..? Why would you even..?” You can’t even form a proper sentence, your entire body trembling at the thought of it as your tears remain stuck in your eyelids and scorch against the edge.

Why would he do such a thing over you?

Does that mean you could’ve been the reason for his death?

What is wrong with him?

This isn’t the same Satoru you knew a few days ago, in fact, this isn’t even the same Satoru you knew a day ago.

“Please.. say it. Tell me why I overdosed, just say it.” He whispers, his fingers gently caressing your cheek causing the goosebumps on your arms to expand, your body feeling limp under his touch, yet his revelation is anything but gentle. “I feel like I’ve gone completely insane because of you.”

You don’t understand anything, your mind is a mess around him.

Why does he want you to say it so badly?

You shake your head in disbelief, quiet choked cries escaping your lips as he leans closer, his nose brushing against the side of yours, stopping you from looking away from him.

“Say the words..say the reason why I overdosed. Come on sweetheart, tell me.”

You slap him without thinking, again as you choke out with widened, horror filled eyes, “Why the fuck would you do something like that because of me?!”

He looks back at you with his own widened eyes the moment you slap him across the face and just stands there for a moment.

What does he expect to get out of this??

“You seem to really like slapping me, huh?” He says as his hand reaches up to his now faintly red cheek, his eyes still fixated on yours.

“You really don't get it? You really don't realise why I ended up doing that?” He shakes his head as if he can't believe you, as if you’d be happy about this.

“I was so fucking angry at myself for arguing with you. So... so angry. You just wanted to help my damn issue and I was pushing you away because I was scared of hurting you. I felt so pathetic. I thought you'd hate me, and that thought made me go insane y/n. Youre making me go insane and I can't control these fucking feelings. I don’t want to hold them back or ignore them anymore.”

It's as if your thought process just freezes, you can’t process anything.

“It's been.. a week.. Satoru. A week of us knowing each other..” You exhale quietly, completely in disbelief.

“I know it's been a week! I know that, you don't think I've been telling myself that?” His fingers tangle with your hair at the back of your scalp, caressing you with such gentleness it’s almost terrifying, yet it makes you shiver, it makes your body feel even more limp, it leaves you wanting more, more of his touch.

What is happening.

“I've been reminding myself that you're right, that it's been a week, that I can't possibly have these feelings for someone I just met...but then I remember it's you...and I can't help but lose my mind. I'm going insane right now.”

He tightens his grip on your hair, pulling you so close to his face you can almost memorise the pattern of his breaths. His other hand on your hip pulls you flush against his body and it’s like your hearts are knocking on each other's doors.

“I know it's not normal to feel like this about someone I just met, but I do. I don't care if it's been a week, my heart aches for you, my mind is filled with nothing other than thoughts of you. It drives me mad y/n.”

“You’re so intense.. Oh my god, you’re insane Satoru.” You know, it sounds awful to say, to call someone insane when they’re confessing their feelings to you.

But it’s been a week.

Maybe you’d understand if a month passed by, but a week?

You can feel your breaths growing heavier with each passing second. The air grows thicker, each inhale and exhale becoming more pronounced. Your chest rises and falls noticeably and you can’t seem to regulate it again to go back to normal.

His blue eyes remain locked onto yours, unwavering, and the proximity only makes your heart race faster. You try to steady yourself but the intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, your breathing betraying your composure.

He lets out a strangled scoff at your words, “I know that! I fucking know that! Why else do u think I got so mad at you for trying to help? or how I'd get so defensive around you when you'd bring up my addiction? I'm a fucking addict y/n.”

“That’s not what I meant, not at all. I didn't mean you’re insane because you’re an addict.” Your voice is cracking now, you tighten your lips, inhale heavily and speak through a broken tone, “Oh god.. Satoru.. How could you overdose over an argument we had?” Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him close by the head against your neck as you tremble.

He’s the one who started the damn argument so why would he even..? And you weren’t even mad at him?

“Oh sweetheart, what don’t you understand?” He breathes into your neck, “I think of you constantly, all the time. You're the reason I'm losing my mind. After the small argument we had, it was all I could think about during practice and I was so damn angry at myself for talking to you like that.”

You feel him nuzzle into you, you hear him inhale your scent, you feel him relax into your touch, you have to hold yourself back from caressing and massaging his scalp.

He wraps his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you closer to him, as if his body needs to feel every part of you, “And not just today, since the day I found out I’d be in this “relationship” with you, Always. And I didn’t know why, because it felt stupid when I didn’t even know you, but I’m so fucking attracted to you. I was attracted to you when I saw you at that celebration party we held too, always. You’ve always been on my mind.”

The celebration party? That was so many months ago.

But you still can’t get the idea of him overdosing because of an argument with you out of your mind.

Why the hell would he tell you that?

Why does it make you so angry? So pained at the thought?

“God, you’re so insane.. Why the hell would you..”

He lifts his head from your neck, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and deep pain, “Yes! Yes I am insane! I'm obsessed with you, I'm a pathetic mess because of you. But I don't care. I don't care that I'm insane, and I'm going to keep being insane because of you. You're so deep inside me and I can't control it.”

“You’ve only known me for a damn week, Satoru! You’re moving so fast you need to relax-“

But he cuts you off, frustration and desperation clear in his gaze and evident in his voice, “I already told you I know it's only been a week! I don't care about how much time has passed. I don't care that it's only been a week. Don't you get it? The speed at which I've fallen for you doesn't matter. I'm not going to control how I feel. I'm not going to slow down the way I'm feeling just because it's only been a week. I’m not going to hold myself back anymore.”

His long fingers caress the edge of your jawline with so much tender care it only sends more shivers through your veins. Your tremble is constant, each breath coming out heavier and more laboured than the last, the air catching in your throat.

His gaze is desperate, pleading for understanding but your mind is too much in a haze, unable to process anything from the intensity of the moment.

It’s all so overwhelming.

His eyes bore into yours with an urgency that makes your heart race even faster. You’re left speechless, unable to even speak full sentences, your senses overloaded by the closeness of his touch and the desperate emotion in those eyes of his.

“I can't control my feelings when it comes to you, I don't care that it's only been a week. I know I need to slow down, I know it's insane that I feel the way I do after such little time, but I can't control it. I'm already obsessed with you, I'm pathetic. l'm a hopeless mess and that isn't going to change.”

“Well it needs to change, Satoru. We can’t do this-“

“Why can’t we do this? Why can’t I feel this way about you? And I swear to God y/n, don’t you dare bring up that damn contract as an excuse-“

“Yes because of the contract and because it’s been a damn week and a few days of us knowing each other. What's wrong with you!”

“I don't care. I can't control the way I feel about you. My feelings aren't going to change just because we've only known each other for a short time. The moment I met you, it felt like something in me just clicked, and I can't ignore it, I can't stop thinking about you. So why shouldn't I act on it?”

“What clicked? What the hell is making you feel this way towards me?” Because you don’t believe him, really. You can’t seem to believe that he could love you.

He looks down at you, his fingers tracing feather-light patterns on the skin of your neck, causing your thighs to tighten against each other making your breath hitch. And the corner of his lips twitch upwards at the sight.

You had hoped he wouldn’t notice.

He has that effect on you, that effect that makes you crave more.

But you refuse to admit it.

You don’t want to. You don’t want another relationship. You’re fine with just this fake relationship, you’re fine with just friends.

“My sweet girl, I don't know exactly what it was.” He says as he smiles down at you, just slightly, “It was just something about you that I couldn’t ignore. It's something about the way you speak, the way you move, the way you look at me, the way you touch me. Everything about you just draws me in because you’re so damn soothing and mind numbing. It's like something inside me just lit up the moment I met you, and I've been burning for you since that moment. Every time I think about you, your skin, your scent, my heart starts beating so hard, I can't control it. God I'm so addicted to you. So damn addicted. That has to be love.”

Holy fucking shit.

How do you even respond to that? Nobody has ever spoken to you with such intense words ever. It’s too new to you.

Your lips part as you look up at him with wide eyes, your trembling slowly halting, “Youre so.. so intense..”

You feel awful, not being able to respond back the same. Because you don’t love him, you don’t even know your own heart right now.

You don’t know if you love him, but you do crave him. But that’s not love, you’re simply touch deprived.

You don’t think he truly loves you either, your skin? Your scent? So basically your body? Is it because you fucked?

But his words.. they’re so intense and romantic. But then again, he has drugs in his system, you know he does. What if he’s just acting out because of that?

You just don’t know.

Your mind gets so messy when it comes to him.

“Satoru.. I don’t get it. I’m sorry I really don’t. All I can think of is because I had sex with you one time and now you’re just lust filled. What you’re feeling isn’t love, it's just lust.”

He scoffs, “Do you honestly think I only like you because of that? I like you because of you, it's not just because we had sex once. I'm obsessed with you for so many reasons, it's more than just being attracted to your body.”

He pushes you harder against the wall, his body flush against yours, his hands still gripping onto your body, “It's more than just how you look, or how badly I want your body, it's more than that okay? I like you for you, not just because we had sex once, I am obsessed with you for so many reasons. Why can’t you see that?”

“So tell me.. please, tell me.”

Because what do you do when you simply don’t know how to respond to the man standing before you as he looks into your eyes with so much desperate intensity it shocks and confuses you?

What do you do when you feel and believe as if you’re incapable of such love that you simply deny it when you’re receiving it at this moment through a confession by a man you know you’re attracted to, but not in love with?

What do you do when you don’t even know what love truly is because you’ve never really experienced it?

What do you do?

🏷️taglist - @catobsessedlady @xionri @poopooindamouf @hyperfixationwhore @spookysoowpprince @abiiebibie @svgvrvs @minzxec @chuyasthighs0 @k-kkiana @bbysnw @you-always-made-me-blush @lillizard21-blog @luvvmae @juliiizh @fleurdelluna @zoeyflower @meowforluv @tqd4455 @miliondollagirl @norvacaine @prettynai @gojoistic @daughteofaphrodite @reagan707 @ieirieiri @explosivelywuisa @bellsoftheball @mo0nforme @corvid007 @asparkofapricity @gomorlo @pinkkminn

[natswife-marvelicious]

Ghosts, Goblins and Growing Closer

Plot: During Tony Stark’s extravagant Halloween party, you and Natasha share playful banter and subtle flirtation. The spooky atmosphere brings you closer, leading to a sweet, intimate moment where you both realize your growing feelings for each other.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,3k

Masterlist

The Avengers Tower was buzzing with excitement, decked out in orange and black for Tony Stark's infamous Halloween party. Cobwebs lined the ceiling, jack-o’-lanterns flickered from every corner, and ghostly decorations floated above the crowd. Tony had truly outdone himself this time, with a towering haunted house in the corner of the common area and a fog machine making the place feel like a spooky dream.

You walked through the sea of costumes, feeling the festive atmosphere. Everyone was in full party mode, Steve Rogers was dressed as a classic 1940s soldier, which earned a few chuckles, Thor sported a Viking costume, much to everyone’s amusement, and Tony? Well, Tony was, of course, dressed as himself. It was his party, after all.

The one person you were most excited to see, though, was Natasha Romanoff. You hadn’t had the chance to spot her yet, and there was an anticipation in your stomach as you searched the room. You knew she would look incredible, no matter what costume she chose, and the idea of spending Halloween night by her side had been your focus all week.

After a few minutes of wandering through the party, you finally saw her. Natasha stood by the bar, leaning against the counter in an all-black assassin outfit with sleek leather pants and a fitted top that hugged her figure. A playful black mask rested on her face, accentuating her mischievous smile. She looked drop-dead gorgeous, and your heart skipped a beat as your eyes locked.

“Hey, you,” she said, walking over with that signature swagger that left you feeling weak in the knees. “Nice costume.”

You looked down at your own getup. You had gone with something simple, an easy superhero-inspired costume, but the way Natasha’s gaze lingered made you feel like you were the only one in the room. “I could say the same thing. You look amazing.”

She raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips. “What, no tricks or treats for me?”

You grinned, stepping closer. “That depends. Do you deserve a trick or a treat?”

Natasha leaned in slightly, her eyes twinkling with playful amusement. “I’ll take my chances with the treat.”

Before you could respond, the room erupted in laughter as Tony announced the costume contest over the speakers. The Avengers gathered near the stage, some eagerly ready to show off their costumes. You found yourself standing next to Natasha, who glanced at you with a knowing look.

“Should we enter the contest?” she asked, tilting her head as if daring you.

“I don’t think we’d stand a chance against Thor’s Viking costume,” you joked, nodding in the god’s direction.

Natasha laughed softly. “True, but we’d definitely win ‘Best Duo’.”

Your heart fluttered at the idea of being a duo with her, even if it was just for the contest. Before you could think too much into it, Natasha gently grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the stage. She waved off the contest, dragging you toward the quieter side of the room, away from the loud music and flashing lights.

“I thought we were entering the contest,” you teased as you followed her lead.

She shrugged with a sly grin. “Changed my mind. Besides, I’d rather spend the night enjoying the party with you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. This was what you loved most about Natasha—her ability to make even the most extravagant parties feel intimate and personal. The rest of the room melted away as you found yourselves in a cozy corner, watching the others dance and mingle.

Nearby, Sam was challenging Bucky to a pumpkin carving contest, and Steve watched in amusement, his arms crossed as he shook his head at their friendly banter. Wanda and Vision were mingling near the snack table, sharing a laugh as they tried out Tony’s over-the-top Halloween-themed treats. It was a lively night, but with Natasha beside you, everything felt a little warmer, a little brighter.

Natasha turned toward you, her gaze softening as the noise of the party faded into the background. “You know, this is the first Halloween I’ve actually celebrated in… well, a long time.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. “Not even as a kid?”

She shook her head. “Not many trick-or-treating opportunities when you’re raised in the Red Room.”

The weight of her words settled between you, and you suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this moment. Natasha had been through so much, and yet here she was, standing next to you, making the best of a night filled with silly costumes and haunted house decorations.

“Well, I’m glad we’re making up for lost time,” you said softly, reaching out to take her hand.

Natasha’s eyes flickered with something unspoken, something deeper than the playful banter that had filled the night so far. She laced her fingers with yours, her grip firm yet gentle. “Yeah, me too.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the proximity and the unspoken connection between you. It was as if the party continued on without you, a blur of laughter and music while the world narrowed to just you and her.

“I’m not much for big parties,” she admitted after a while, her voice quiet yet sincere. “But I’m glad I came to this one.”

“Because of the company?” you asked, unable to keep the teasing tone out of your voice.

Natasha smirked, but her eyes were soft. “Maybe.”

Just as you were about to respond, Tony’s voice boomed across the room once again, calling everyone’s attention. “Alright, everyone! Gather around for the haunted house tour! Who’s ready to get spooked?"

The crowd cheered, and you saw Thor raise his hammer, clearly ready for the challenge. You turned to Natasha with a grin. “What do you say? Want to check it out?”

Natasha looked skeptical, but there was a glint of excitement in her eyes. “You know I don’t scare easily, right?”

“Yeah, but you haven’t been through one of Tony’s haunted houses yet,” you quipped, tugging her toward the entrance.

The haunted house was exactly what you’d expect from Tony Stark: over-the-top, high-tech, and filled with more jump scares than necessary. As you navigated through the dark corridors, fog swirling around your feet, you couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Natasha, true to her word, didn’t flinch once, though she did smirk at your startled reactions a few times.

At one point, you found yourselves in a narrow hallway, the only light coming from flickering candles mounted on the walls. Natasha stepped closer, her shoulder brushing against yours, and despite the eerie atmosphere, you felt nothing but warmth.

“This is ridiculous,” she whispered, though there was amusement in her voice.

“Completely,” you agreed, but you couldn’t deny the thrill of being in this moment with her.

As the haunted house came to an end, you emerged back into the brightly lit common area, where the party had picked up once again. Tony was handing out awards for the costume contest, and the music had resumed, filling the space with a lively beat.

Natasha turned to you, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Alright, I’ll admit, that was kind of fun.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I knew you’d enjoy it.”

Before you could say more, Natasha stepped closer, her hand finding yours once again. “Thanks for sticking with me tonight,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the music.

You squeezed her hand, feeling your heart swell with affection. “Anytime, Natasha.”

She smiled, and for a brief moment, the noise of the party faded into the background once again. It was just the two of you, standing side by side, sharing a quiet moment in the midst of the chaos.

As the night wore on and the party continued, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for this strange, wonderful Halloween. It wasn’t the costumes or the decorations that made it special, it was Natasha and the way she made every moment feel like it was just for the two of you.

With a final glance at the lively crowd around you, Natasha leaned in close and whispered in your ear, “Happy Halloween.”

You smiled, your heart full, and whispered back, “Happy Halloween, Natasha.”

And as the night unfolded, you knew this was a Halloween you’d never forget.

[dstryvampres]

Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy

Paring: Neil Lewis x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: smut, you have a cowboy kink :3

“What do you think?” Neil says, strutting down the narrow hallway out of his office.

Looking up from the magazine you were mind-numbingly immersed in, mostly due to the weird jingling coming from where Neil was coming from, you were greeted with an oddly pleasant view. Neil, uncharacteristically, dressed up as a cowboy. Black cowboy hat, a pair of black loose fitting jeans to match, a light denim button up shirt tucked into his pants with a couple buttons undone at the top, a black bandana tied around his neck, and cowboy boots that edged on godawful. Somehow Neil’s outfit of the week wasn’t that bad, it was kind of attractive…

“Hello? Anyone in there,” Neil waves his hand infront of your face, you try to grab his wrist but he snatches his hand away before you can get a full grasp. “So?”

“I think it’s better than last Saturday’s Dracula costume, that’s for sure,” trying to sound as uninterested as you possibly can despite the fact that you were undeniably very into the cowboy thing.

“Oh, come on. I had you speechless for a good minute there,” Neil points out, before mimicking a one-man gun fight.

“It’s fine,” is all you give him.

Neil sighs dramatically and pouts. Walking over to the couch infront of the TV and flopping down onto it, his melodrama is almost good enough to make you pity him, but he’s pulled this trick one too many times for it to do the full damage he intended. Soon enough you're trying your best to flip through the magazine in your hands. Unlike last time, you can’t seem to find it as interesting as it was before you saw Neil. The cowboy outfit fit him a little too well. Amount of undone buttons showed off his collarbones so well, hat fit weirdly well ontop of his head, and his pants hugged his ass in a way that made you drool. Maybe your boss dressing up as a cowboy was a new awakening for you. God you really hope not.

“Welcome to Gumshoe!” Neil welcomes the customer, springing off the couch and fixing his hat, “We have a special deal on Westerns this week, if you want to look into that just let me or my lovely employee at the counter know.”

You smile at the customer, before your eyes start to drift over to Neil. How you were going to last a full day working here while he looked like that, you didn’t know. As he blabbed to the customer about whatever movie they could be looking for, you willed yourself to look anywhere else, to do anything else besides stare weirdly at your boss and give yourself a girl boner over his outfit. There’s always returns you can sort through and late calls you can make, is what you settle on.

Pulling out the box from under the counter you start to sort through the returns of the past couple of days absentmindedly. Despite trying your hardest not to stare at your boss and focus on your task, you can’t help it. As he stanters around the shop in those stupid black jeans, fixes the buttons on his shirt, even daring to pop another button open, you can feel the wetness in your pants increase by the minute. It’s embarrassing. You move over to the back corner to start storing the movies, hoping this new perspective with a noticeable lack of view of your employer will help calm you down, but it does nothing. Possibly making it worse, this lack of seeing the real Neil makes your imagination kick in. Oh, what he could do for you. Legs over his shoulders. Is he soft or rough? What would he say during it? Is it just the costume or has he always looked this good? There’s a tap on your shoulder and you whip your head around.

It’s Neil.

“Can you check out the customer? I’ll take this over, don’t worry.” A blush spreads over your cheeks, and you can only seem to nod offering a weak, guilty smile to him. Standing up on shaky legs you make your way over to the register trying to make as little contact with Neil as possible. Knowing that if you touch him you will moan.

Your face feels hot, likely flushed, so you check out the customer as fast as you can. Plan foiled by their lack of a loyalty card. Soon enough they are out the door and gone, but you could’ve sworn you input their address wrong.

“Is the A/C not working?” Neil had sneaked up on you, grasping your shoulder. You jump, causing him to let out a small laugh.

“Uh- Yeah, I think so? Why are you asking?”

You knew why he was asking, you were sweating profusely and were red in the face. Even leaving a sweaty hand mark on the register, and possibly the DVD the customer rented out. All fueled by the simple cowboy costume worn by the man behind you. Curse ‘Western week’ at Gumshoe Videos, and curse Neil and his need to dress up for every event the store held, no matter how miniscule. 

“You’re just very sweaty and red. Is there any other reason? Possibly got the hots for anyone,” Neil teased, poking your shoulder.

To anyone other than you, it would’ve been quite obvious that he wasn’t referring to himself and was, instead, referring to the customer who just left. After all, most of your more noticeable nerves showed up after their arrival. But your nerves paired with just how close Neil was to you lead to the disastrous reply.

“No! Of course not! And it’s definitely not you either.” Followed by nervous choppy laughter.

“What?” 

Neil was not laughing.

“I have to go stock shelves.”

Neil stands there for a couple seconds before following behind you, despite how you desperately try to lose him. The shop is small and cramped, losing anyone in here is close to impossible. Just getting down to work is the best option right now, you plop down beside a box full of DVDs and try to ignore your boss.

“Look. I’m not offended or thrown off by what you said, but are you serious?”

You look up at Neil, guilt and embarrassment coating your face.

“You are! What is it? My charms? My humour? My looks?”

You go back to stocking DVDs.

“Is it the cowboy outfit?”

You look back up in absolute horror. He’s grinning at this realisation, both amusement and disbelief smeared all over his cocky smile. 

“Well how would you like to ride a real cowboy?” Neil asks, he’s putting on a horrible southern accent that’s somehow made the outfit so much more attractive.

You stand up and crash your lips together. The kiss catches Neil off guard, stumbling back a step or two before he’s reciprocating at the same force as you. Getting eager you pull at the hair on his nape. He moans into your mouth. God it’s better than you thought it would sound. God, do you want to ride this cowboy.

“Hey,” Neil breaks away, breathing heavily, “Can we, uh, can we take this back to my office?”

You nod, basically pushing Neil back to his own office. Both of you are giggling the whole way there. Normally being so giddy over something like this would make you sick, but you’re hot and have a growing tingling in your lower stomach urging you onwards. Once the door is closed to his office your lips are back on his, hand tangling into his hair. Stumbling forwards into him until you hit his desk. His hands find your hips and he groans. Lips now start to kiss your neck. Kisses sloppy and open mouthed, bordering on bites. You’re so high on excitement about this it’s making you dizzy. Never have you ever thought that you would be so excited to sleep with your boss. What a uniform can do to a man is criminal.

Neil’s hands slowly move from your hips to your breasts. Squeezing them lightly once before groping harshly. Looking down you make eye contact with him, his eyes are so round and soft, pupils blown out wide, basically pleading to let him take off your shirt.

“Go ahead,” You sigh out, he’s rubbing your nipples through your shirt.

Quickly his hands move down to the hem of your shirt, and it’s off you and on the floor. Neil starts to move his kisses down to your collar bones and breasts. Groaning the whole way down, acting like he’s never been with anyone as beautiful as you. Truthfully, it’s unlikely that he has.

His hands unclasp your bra, sliding it down your arms and exposing your boobs. Nipples hard from the cold and from the excitement of this whole ordeal. You place your hands on Neil’s jaw dragging him back up into a kiss. It’s sloppy, his spit is all over your top lip. If this was anyone else it would’ve disgusted you, but, again, something about the whole cowboy costume made it so much hotter.

“God, you’re so hot,” Neil pants into your mouth, tweaking at your nipples. You moan in response.

He’s leading you over to the couch in his office. Pushing you onto the couch, you watch him completely unbutton his slutty denim shirt before joining you. Lips crashing into yours in the same frenzy as before. Your hands come to the waistband of his pants. Desperately trying to undo his buckle. You get it undone, and as a reward Neil undoes his pants. You feel his bulge press into your hip as you continue. You stroke him through his underwear, causing him to whimper, breaking away from the kiss and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Don’t do that baby, I’ll cum, please,” Neil begs. You giggle in response, but are immediately cut off when he latches his lips around your nipple. Flicking his tongue over your nipple. Fuck. You cup his cheek.

“Neil, take off my fucking pants already,” You hiss out.

He detaches his lips from your nipple, focusing instead on sliding your jeans off of your hips. You desperately want to shy away from Neil’s gaze when he starts to feel the wet patch on your underwear that is growing by the second, but it’s hard when he’s sitting between your legs. He shoves your panties down your legs and onto the floor.

Neil looks into your eyes as he traces the line of your cunt, playing with your clit, then shoving a finger into your cunt. You immediately moan out at the intrusion, earning you a smile from Neil.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he teases.

He adds in a second finger and your eyebrows furrow. His fingers are thick. Stretching you out so nice. Finding a steady pace Neil pushes his finger in and out of your cunt, eagerly watching as your cunt easily takes in his fingers. You grip at his hair, pulling him back into a kiss. Moaning into his mouth as he fucks you with his finger, consistently brushing against your sensitive spot. 

Neil removes his fingers from your cunt, wiping them off on the couch. He makes quick work of his boxer’s pulling them down and discarding them in the pile of clothes already on the floor. He lines his cock up with your cunt and slides into you, both of you groaning at the sensation. Neil stays still for a little bit, getting adjusted to how you feel.

“Fuck you’re so tight, and so warm, and wet. You’re so nice,” Neil babbles, placing his hands on your hips.

Slowly he starts rocking back and forth into you, letting out breathy moans the whole way through. 

“You can speed up,” You tell Neil, holding onto his bicep for support.

His hips start to speed up, until the sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet sounds of your cunt echo throughout the room. Neil keeps babbling out praises, ‘so good baby’s and ‘you’re so hot’s breaking the previously mentioned sounds, along with moaning from the both of you. Neil was a surprisingly good fuck. His cock was angled perfectly into your cunt, allowing him to hit deep into your cunt each time in a way that made you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back.

“Do you- fuck- do you want to ride this cowboy?” Neil asks through pants, you look up at him. A mix of amusement and horniness coats your brain.

“Yes.” Is all it takes for Neil to slip out of you and bring you on top of him, then line up his cock with your entrance once again and slip it in.

You bounce up and down on him, aided by both his hips bucking into yours and his hands on your hips.

“You’re so good at this, holy,” Neil says, before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the bud, you yelp out.

You can feel the coil in your stomach tighten, gripping tightly on Neil’s shoulders for stability. The mix of Neil’s cock pumping in and out of you and his tongue playing with your nipples was driving you insane.

“Neil, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, all over my cock, baby.”

You reach one of your hands down from Neil’s shoulders to your clit. Rubbing your clit in quick small circles as Neil watches you with hungry eyes. 

It all comes crashing into you at once as you chant ‘cumming’ as you slump into Neil’s shoulder. He follows quickly after you. Both of you stay still for a little bit, trying to recuperate from everything. Neil rubs small circles into your lower back before you slide off of his cock. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, not being able to look at Neil after that.

“Here,” Neil says, handing you your underwear.

You both get dressed in silence, before both exiting Neil’s office.

“You can go home early today if you want,” Neil coughs out.

You end up going home early after all, walking back to your car on shaky legs and being left to think about the events of today at your apartment.