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reidrum · 2 months ago

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how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

A/N: if i stared at this any longer it would never see the light of day...so here she is! this is the longest fic i've ever written and i'm kinda gagged about that but i really hope you like it and if you don't that's okay too this is just silly angsty brainrot anyways thanks for reading this my inbox is open if you wanna yap more summary: in which your kidnapping forces you and spencer to face the fallout following your recently ended relationship cw: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped/held hostage, implications and mentions of SA to reader but nothing happens, cm type violence, ex!spencer, lowkey lovers to enemies back to lovers, cat adams, medical jargon, miscommunication trope, the bau team is family, afab!reader, pet names wc: 5.1k

Every case you and Spencer have been on has been insufferable for the rest of the team since your falling out, if it had to be given a name. Everyone always had to deal with your constant bickering and harsh words. It was the same in every case, a difference of opinions that led to incessant fighting between you two, Hotch would have to separate you both and use your joint intelligence separately for the sake of keeping everyone alive.

This last case was nothing different, a serial killer in Athens, Georgia who was religiously sacrificing young women in the name of a cult. Both of you fighting over what you believed the other to be wrong about in their part for solving the case. Spencer thought the unsub would have struck in a zone closer to his home, you assumed he was only going after women who resembled someone in his life. The real problem was that you were both wrong.

And it ended with you being held hostage.

It all happened so fast. You were in the car with Spencer and Rossi driving out to the unsub’s house to check for new evidence when you had stopped at a gas station about 15 miles out from the house to refuel. Rossi got out of the car to pump the gas, Spencer sat in the passenger seat, and you went inside to use the bathroom and grab a quick snack.

You quickly washed your hands after finishing in the bathroom and wiped your hands on your pants, still slightly damp as you turn the handle of the door. As you’re perusing the aisle looking for a snack, you can feel the presence of watchful eyes on you. Casually, you slowly look up and around at the source and clock a figure an aisle over with a cap turned downward blocking their face.

Your gut was sending flares up, telling you that danger was near. You nonchalantly walk over to the aisle he’s in, pretending to look at the nuts and dried fruits while attempting to get a look at his face. In a (maybe not so) bright idea, you think to knock a bag of nuts on the floor next to the lurker’s feet in the hopes he’ll bend down to pick it up for you.

With a push of your hand, the bag knocks off the shelf and onto the floor and you both bend down to pick it up.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you chuckle lightly, “I’m such a clutz.”

“No problem at all, Miss—.” He stops talking all of a sudden, you’re unsure why. You follow his gaze to your left hip where your FBI credentials are peaking out.

Shit.

He draws a weapon faster than you’re able to react with getting your own out, and by the time yours is out the barrel of his is flush with your forehead.

“Drop it.”

You quickly recognize the man as your unsub, miles away from his hunting ground and about to stray from his victimology with you.

“Come on, up. We’re going for a little ride.” He snarls, glancing outside at the black SUV with your colleagues. He grabs you by a hairful and drags you out the back door, shooting the gas station clerk before making the escape with you to his pickup truck. You’re shoved against the car door, back facing him, as he place a zip tie on your wrists and opens the door to sit you in the back seat. The unsub gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, glaring at you through the rear view mirror, “I’m gonna have fun with you, fed.”

Meanwhile, back in the car Rossi stands at the pump waiting for the tank to fill and Spencer remains in the car looking over the case details once more. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, but can’t place his finger on it. He looks over the details again meticulously, searching for a fault anywhere in your, or even his own logic. Rossi closes the tank and hops back in the car, “She’s not back yet?” he pondered.

Spencer hadn’t even realized you weren’t back yet, “I guess not,” something wasn’t right, “She went ten minutes ago right?”

Rossi nods, opening his mouth to speak when a gunshot coming from the gas station cuts him off. The men look at each other, eyes widened and rush out of the car, weapons drawn.

“FBI!” Rossi enters, looking for any sign of you but coming up empty. Spencer takes note of the disheveled store, produce and cans lying astray. He steps around the mess to find an out of place bag of sour gummy worms on the floor in the middle of an aisle only filled with nuts and dried fruit.

Sour gummy worms were your favorite.

A sinking feeling settles in Spencer as he tries to fight the reality his brain is trying to tell him. He looks to Rossi with a pained expression, and Rossi matches it back.

“He took her.”

___

The next few hours are a blur for Spencer.

Rossi called the team to meet them at the gas station, already telling Garcia to hack into the security cameras to find any clue of where he’d taken you. Emily and Derek were checking out the crime scene, Hotch and Rossi talking to the sheriff. JJ finds Spencer staring off onto the one road connected to the station.

“We’re gonna find her, Spence.”

He whips his head up at the sound of her voice, “I should’ve realized sooner. I knew there was something off about his MO, a—and I just couldn’t place it. And now she’s gone and it’s all my fault and I never—“

“Spencer,” JJ interrupts softly, “You couldn’t have known. None of us did, even her.”

“I should have,” he laments, “And if she…if something happens to her because I wasn’t paying attention…” He trails off, too afraid of what his brain thinks is the ending of the sentence.

JJ offers him a sympathetic look, understanding the conflicting emotions, “We’ll find her, she’s strong. You know that.”

He stares back at her hoping, praying, that she’s right and you’re going to be okay. You have to be.

He’s pulled out of his head by Morgan calling him and JJ over, telling Garcia on the phone to repeat her findings.

“Okay, I think I have a lead based on the security camera footage on the car he has and where it’s been last seen. I’m sending the last known coordinates to your phones now.”

An idea springs to him, “Garcia, can you also check the gas station records and see how much he filled his tank?”

The clacking sounds of her keyboard ring through the phone before she speaks again, “He didn’t fill a full tank, only like, fifteen miles worth of gas.”

Everyone looks up at each other in realization of what the new information means. You had to be close by. Morgan walks over to tell Hotch, who immediately talks to a state ranger about setting up a 15 mile radius around the gas station with monitored roadblocks, no entry or exit without inspection.

After Hotch finishes he walks back to Spencer and lays a hand on his shoulder, “Good job, Reid,” He nods back with a thin lipped smile and fiddles with his pen anxiously, “Are you okay?”. Spencer can’t tell if he’s genuinely asking him or if he’s asking him for the sake of him being able to do his job properly considering the circumstances. Ever the profiler that man is, he thinks. He nods again nonetheless and walks over to meet Derek at the car.

Spencer and Derek get into the car and set the route for the coordinates Garcia gave, ETA 14 minutes. He swallows nervously, do you even have 14 minutes? What if he’s too late? What if you’re not even there? What if he never got to tell you—

“Reid. Are you even listening?”

“What?”

Derek raises his eyebrows as he glances at his friend, “Got something on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a shit liar, man.”

“I’m not lying.” Even he doesn’t believe himself.

“Spencer—“

“I’m just worried! Okay? We’re all worried, it’s not a big deal.” he snaps.

Derek stops at a red light and looks over the console, “I’m going to ignore whatever that was,” guilt sweeps over Spencer’s face as he continues, “I’m not stupid kid, I know how you’re feeling. But you can’t let whatever turmoil you got in that big brain of yours affect this case. Not now.”

“I know that, Morg—“

“No, you don’t. I know you’re thinking about her, we all are. And we all want—need—her to be okay too. We will find her, but we can’t let the unsub get away too.”

Spencer sighs outwardly seeing the truth in his words. As concerned as he was about you he needed to remember this was still an active case. He couldn't let your past with each other cloud his judgement, even if the fallout still haunts him every day of his life. He needs to save you, but he also has a job to do. He just wasn’t sure if he’d remember that when they finally found you.

——

A pounding in your head stirs you awake, the bitter taste of metal flooding your senses as you come to. You blink a few times adjusting to the lowlights of the unfamiliar environment, hoping to find something distinguishable to ground you back to reality. It doesn’t help once you realize the blood crusted over your eye is the reason for your obscured vision. You attempt to rub it off on your shoulder ignoring the sharp pains shooting up from the abrasive contact.

Once you think you’ve cleared enough you blink a few more times registering your surroundings to be a house, a cabin more accurately. Your memory is a little fuzzy as you try to recount what happened before you were knocked out cold.

Gas station. Unsub. Unsub at the gas station? But where was I…I went to the bathroom… and was getting…gummy worms?… But Rossi and Spencer were just outside… now I’m here…so does that means the unsub—

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

You jolt at the voice—the unsub you’ve come to remember—and you realize your hands are tied up behind your back, quickly coming to the second realization that you are rendered both injured and immobile.

“What do you want, Jason?” you say hoarsely after a minute.

He chuckles, “I didn’t know they made them so pretty at the academy…” he walks over and kneels in front of you, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb to move your head, “They probably kept you around for…entertainment right?”

You whip your head, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Oh, you’re feisty. That’s good, keep it up. Makes this more fun.” he walks back over to the table and fiddles with something, you can’t really tell from the floor, “So how’d they make it work back in—what is it called—Quantico! They take turns with you or? There’s so many of y’all, probably had a system.”

The pounding in your head makes it more difficult to process anything he’s saying, “The hell are you talking about, take turns with what?” you ask, wincing through another wave of pain.

He turns around holding a metal rod and walks over, angling the rod under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his as he snarls, “I can’t wait to see how it feels to fuck a federal whore.”

All the color drains from your face and you kick into whatever gas is left in your autopilot. Your feet are flailing in every direction, body thrashing violently to prevent Jason from getting a good grip on you. You quickly learn the purpose of the metal rod hearing the clang! first, a millisecond passing before the pain and threat of unconsciousness spreads through your brain.

The hit takes you out long enough for him to pin you down on the floor, the weight of his body landing on you before the metal rod goes for your limbs. It’s then you realize the throes of death have wrangled you for what appears to be the last time, and it’s probably wise to start saying—thinking— your final words.

To my parents, I love you. To Derek and Penelope, thank you for letting me third wheel with you. Emily, I’ll miss our weekend Sin City excursions. JJ, please give your boys the biggest hug from their favorite aunt. Rossi and Hotch, you always cared for me like I was your own—I am so grateful for you.

And Spencer…Oh, Spencer. How I hoped I would have the time to say I’m sorry for what happened, I hope you’ll forgive me in due time. I wish I told you that nothing about us ever changed for me. You were and will always be, My Spencer, I just wish I could tell you one more time how much I lov—“

“FBI, Drop your weapon!”

A clattering sound of something dropping rings directly next to your ear and the weight that was on you alleviates at the same time. You groan out and instinctively curl up on yourself, the pain spreading throughout your body. The sensory overload is so much you don’t hear the approaching figure crouching next to you.

“Hey Hey Hey,” Spencer stutters, quickly making work of the ties on your hands and holding you gently as he lays your head on his lap cradling you close, trying to hide the forming tears when he hears your whimpers of pain, “You’re okay, it’s okay. The medic’s coming.” He looks back to where the unsub was and watches Derek put him in cuffs, nodding at Spencer before walking out with Jason.

“…Spencer?” you whisper out weakly. You think you’re dreaming honestly, that in the wake of death you learn heaven isn’t a place but only his arms.

“Yeah, honey, it’s me.” he chokes out looking back down at your bruised face. He’s unsure how you still look angelic even when you’re hurt, but it doesn’t surprise him that you do. You were always good at defying the laws of nature, he prayed it extended to your immortality.

“It hurts.” you pout pathetically.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes gently, “I know it does, honey I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this happened. I should’ve been there. I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers tearfully.

You cough out and whimper in pain, “I’m sorry too.”

Spencer shakes his head vehemently, “No, don’t apologize. Don’t do that, just keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m right here, I won’t leave you.”

The tiredness soon wins and your eyes flutter close. Before Spencer can even panic and beg you to open them again the medic finally comes and asks him—pulls him— to move so they can start working on you.

He reluctantly backs up and watches on with glossed over eyes, barely registering all the things they were sticking in you to wake you up. The medics stabilize your neck with a C-SPINE and lift you onto the gurney, wheeling you back to the ambulance. The same medic who asked Spencer to move comes up to him again, “We’re taking her to Georgetown Medical, you’re allowed to ride in the back with us if you want.”

You slowly come to again on the gurney and Spencer meets your open eyes before you even realize they’re on you. Without hesitation he says, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

The medic team lifts your gurney inside the rig, and right before Spencer gets in he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around to find Hotch, “You’ll be okay?”

It’s a loaded question. He’s not asking if Spencer is okay at this moment, because it doesn’t take a profiler to see that he’s the farthest from it. He says it as a grounding reminder knowing how Spencer gets about you. It didn’t matter to the team if you both fell out, the pair of you never faltered in your subconscious for each other. Both of your actions always moved faster than your brains, especially when it involved the other.

That’s what worried his Unit Chief.

He nods and Hotch gives his shoulder a light squeeze, “Keep us updated,” the concern clearly etched in his eyes breaking through his usual stoicism as he looks inside the rig, “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

Under the bright lights of the ambulance he’s—unfortunately—able to really take inventory of the injuries you sustained. The blue and black bruising scattered your limbs, the congregation of it on your stomach telling him you have at least two broken ribs. His eyes trail further down your body before abruptly stopping, but not on an appendage.

Spencer’s face pales even further than it already has staring at the glint on the undone button of your trousers shining in the reflection of the light.

If they didn’t get there when they did…If he got to you a second later…He can’t even fathom to think about what would’ve happened.

He’s broken out of his spiral by the EMT sitting next to him offering a tissue, which is when Spencer feels the tear and snot streaks rolling down his face. He takes it and wipes his face mindlessly before muttering, “Can I just…” hands reaching out to you before his words come out. Spencer doesn’t notice the EMT tearing up as he gently buttons your pants.

——

You were a fighter.

At least, that’s what the doctors told Spencer when they came and updated him in the waiting room. He blanks out for most of the conversation, eyes unfocusing and ears on low lest your name be spoken.

“She’s stable and awake now, the nurse can take you back to see her.”

He shakes his head to recenter and mutters a thank you before following the nurse through the double white doors. His senses are heightened as he walks closer to your room. The scuff of his shoes on the linoleum floors, the pedantic beeping of machines in the rooms he passes, until he hears the only voice that’s ever been enough to calm the warzone in his mind.

“Hi, Spence.”

His feet move on their own accord right next to your bedside, hands hovering awkwardly at his side. He’s silent for the first couple minutes, just a faint sniffle here and there before he takes a seat near your bed and hears you speak again.

“You can touch me, Spence. I won’t break more than I already am.”

“Don’t say that,” he chides quickly, “It’s not a joke.”

“Well, someone should be the comedic relief here.”

He lays the tips of his fingers right on top of the tips of yours, “You could have died.”

Your face softens, “I didn’t though.”

“You could have.”

“Spencer—“

“Stop down playing it. You don’t know what it was like finding you like that.”

“I mean I have some idea, ‘cause like, I was there.”

Spencer deadpans at your poor attempt at lightening the mood, a faint smile peaking through while he shakes his head, “Insufferable even at your deathbed.”

“Yeah, the Grim Reaper heard me yapping and said ‘keep her’.”

He chuckles softly as his hand moves further up to rest the front of his palm on the back of your hand, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve…been better. The doctor said one of my broken ribs punctured an artery, a big one apparently,” you flip your hand over so both of your palms are touching but not laced, you softly continue, “Told me I was lucky I came in when I did. Any later the internal bleeding would’ve spread to my lungs.”

Spencer feels the tears springing again and a lump forming in his throat, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” the pet name slipping out before he could realize, “I should’ve gotten there sooner, or realized something was wrong at the gas station.”

“Hey. Don’t do that. You saved my life.” your fingers intertwine with his and squeeze with whatever strength you can muster, which isn’t a lot and it makes his heart clench tighter. “I’m here.”

He lets out the breath he’s been holding since he walked in, “You’re here.”

“I didn’t forget what you promised me when we…broke up,” God you wish it didn’t sound so terminable as it did, “I knew you’d find me. You always do.”

Another sniffle leaves him as he rubs his thumb soothingly on your hand, “I always do…Look, there’s something I need to tell you—“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Penelope & Company burst into your room bearing balloons, chocolates, and many, many stuffies.

“How’s our girl doing?” Penelope huffs, hauling an entire Hallmark catalog worth of gifts in tow.

“She’s doing fine, Penny.” you chuckle lightly, trying your best to hide the wince of pain from your side, “You did not need to do all this.”

“Nonsense, everyone knows bear stuffies are the real medicine of the world.” she gleefully ignores the nurse onlookers, “I also brought you this, of special request by someone who shall not be named.” From her back she produces a bag of your favorite candy—sour gummy worms. A fact that you knew only one person was privy to.

You act surprised nonetheless, “My favorite! Thank you, Penny. And all of you, for coming to see my crippled self.”

Spencer watches the team take turns doting on you. Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit with you for about four Gilmore Girls episodes—another lost relic of modern medicine, according to Penny—after which Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch keep you company for a little bit before bidding you good night with forehead kisses and well wishes. Spencer stays with you the whole time, never once leaving your side.

You are so loved, he thinks. He didn’t realize how much he liked watching you be loved. It makes him miss the times when he could do that for you too.

——

Weeks pass since the day of your kidnapping. You still find it weird to call it that, even though it’s literally what happened. You’ve been on house arrest—bed rest—begrudgingly, and while Penelope’s very glittery visiting schedule has kept you entertained, it’s been hard when the only person you really wanted to see has refused to come visit since you left the hospital.

You’ve asked Penelope why Spencer hasn’t come, and all she can offer you is a sad smile and a ‘He said something come up sweetie, sorry.’. Texting him seemed even more daunting, more because you weren’t about to beg for his attention if he obviously doesn’t want you to have it.

The doorbell steals your attention and you glance over at the schedule before you walk over to open it, not expecting a visitor at this time.

Spencer looks up from his shoes hearing the door open, “Hey.”

A minute passes, “Why are you here?” you ask bluntly.

He looks confused, “I came to check on you, brought you takeout from the Indian place you like.” The food in his hand smells heavenly but you can’t seem to enjoy it yet without getting an answer.

“Why are you here, now?” you ask again with an addendum.

He either really wants to piss you off or his ear blew out on the way over but he chooses to ignore you and enter your apartment, “You having nightmares again?”

“What? No…” you lie poorly, straightening up your back, “Just tired.”

He chuckles, “Good to know you’re still a terrible liar. Did you know you wear Doctor Who shirts when you’re feeling anxious?”

Your brows fuddle in confusion but he elaborates, “It’s probably subconscious, something you find comforting and naturally gravitate to in times of distress. It’s a normal stress response but…you’re wearing an Eleventh Doctor shirt.” My Eleventh Doctor shirt, he thinks.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” you feign.

“Maybe it doesn’t,” he nods, “But you are anxious aren’t you?”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on, why are you here, really?” your eyes narrow, arms crossing defensively.

“I told you, I came to check on you.”

“You just woke up this morning and decided it was convenient for you to see me today?” Spencer opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You stare at him with tearful eyes and the emotion spills out of you before you can stop it. You speak again after a few moments, voice barely above a whisper, “You left me. Again.”

He tilts his head, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” you grit out, “You were rooted at my bedside the entire time I was hospitalized, and the second I was discharged you were nowhere to be found. I thought, maybe with Penny’s schedule you’d come by, but then I came to find out that you didn’t even put your name down.”

“You almost died!” he retorts, “You almost died, because I made a mistake and you got hurt because of it!”

“So, that gives you the right to abandon me for the second time?”

“I didn’t…” he sighs out roughly, “I didn’t abandon you. I just, couldn’t…face you.” Face you, in pain, as a result of his actions.

“Is that what happened the first time you left?” you bite back.

His eyes steel over, “That was different.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You know why I left.”

“I don’t think I do, Spencer—”

“I left because I was putting you in danger!” he yells cutting you off, “I left because loving you meant dragging you into all the messed up stuff that happens to me, stuff that’ll keep happening to me.”

Tobias. Mexico. Cat.

A single tear rolls down your face, “That’s bullshit, I’m sorry. We work the same damn job, the risks are the same if we’re together or not.”

“You don’t understand—“

“Then fucking enlighten me, Spencer.”

He stares at you, fighting an internal battle of whether he was really willing to admit his truth to you, one that he knows you deserved to know but wasn’t sure if it would put you more in harm's way.

“Cat had details about your family.”

That’s not what you were expecting to hear. Your face drops, “Wh—What?”

His eyes dart around the room nervously, “After I got out of Millburn and we went to see Cat, she was trying all these tactics to get me to break. I was doing fine, until she started talking about you. She was saying things that only you told me, stuff that’s not even on record.”

You remember that day. You were supposed to go with him and JJ to the correctional facility but ended up stuck at the BAU because your skill set was more valuable in helping Penelope locate Mr. Scratch. You remember how he came back to you that day, distant and glassed over. It was easy to chalk up his behavior following it to his recent release, but when you woke up a few weeks later to an empty bed and a throwaway note saying ‘I’m sorry.”, you couldn’t figure out for the life of you why all of a sudden you didn’t exist to him, like you didn’t matter.

“I made a choice, one that I knew would protect you.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make.” you snap.

“I had to,” he says lowly, taking a step closer to you, “If being with me puts your safety at risk…” another step, “I’d rather live in a world where you hate me and are still here…” one more step, “Than one where you loved me and died because of it.” he manages to choke out, taking one final step towards you.

It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the soft whistle of the breeze coming from your open window. The resolve in you has long faded, leaving behind nothing but the skin on your bones to weather the damage. It makes sense to you why he did what he did, and you don’t know if the roles were reversed would you do the same thing. But you knew that you loved him and he loved you, and that alone should have been enough.

You can’t help but let out a whine, sounding like a petulant child, “That’s not fair, Spence.”

“What’s not fair, baby?” he softly whispers.

Your whine turns into a cry, “That, all of this. The fall on your sword act in which you decide what’s best for me is to leave me stranded, thinking I did something wrong that made you stop loving me.”

He steps forward a little more, his face mere inches from your own, “You think I stopped loving you?”

“Was I supposed to think otherwise? You couldn’t even stand being in the same room as me.”

His hands raise to gently cup your face, thumbs positioned under your eyes to wipe the fallen tears. He’s missed looking into your eyes as close as he is. For a man who doesn’t believe in religion he’s pretty certain the gates of heaven lie within your irises.

“I was selfish,” he swallows, “I wanted to keep you safe but I did so in a way that I felt was most logical, which turned out to be so fucking wrong regardless since you still got hurt.”

He brings your face impossibly closer, the warmth of his breath gently hitting your face.

“There isn’t a waking moment where I don’t love you. Even when we weren’t together, I still looked out for you and I made sure you were safe in ways I couldn’t tell you. I meant what I said. I told you I’d find you in every lifetime. I love you, in every lifetime, angel girl.”

The ache in your heart only grows with his words, reminding you that he always was and will forever be, Your Spencer.

“You can’t do that again,” you stutter out through tiny sobs, “You need to tell me what’s going on, whatever it is. We figure it out together.”

He nods softly, the hair on his forehead faintly brushing up on yours, “We figure it out together. I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” his lips press a long kiss to your forehead, “I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere.”

You rise on your toes to meet your lips with his, the missed time and unspoken words flowing silently between you both. His hands wrap gently around your waist and pull you flush to his chest, with yours entangling with the brown curls you had missed so much.

Finally back in his arms, you sigh with exhaustion and relief, “You’re here.”

“I’m here, honey.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid criminal minds

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hoshigray · 1 year ago

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𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”

“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh.

A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year.

But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.

Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement…

“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”

And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?”

That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive.

“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”

“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.

However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”

“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer.

Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”

No words, only tapping keys.

“Y/n?”

The keys become louder.

“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?”

Louder.

“Y/n!!”

A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.

The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”

You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.

“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”

“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”

You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?”

“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”

You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”

“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.”

You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…

After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry.

“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty.

“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?”

“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”

“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…

Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”

“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. “No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”

The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”

“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.

“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.

"I know you are."

"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”

A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.”

No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”

You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”

“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”

“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”

You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.

“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.

“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“

“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”

“…….Which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“

“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”

Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”

“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”

Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye.

You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets. Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.

….Three Hours Later….

The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed.

Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up.

The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.

What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?

“Ah, look who’s awake.”

You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.

Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!

Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.”

A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”

“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.”

Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ”…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further.

“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”

He? Wait, wait, we??

The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.

“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?”

You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”

It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.

“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.”

You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?”

The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?

“…Yes, I do.”

“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”

Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”

“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”

He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.”

The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”

“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.

“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”

You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”

Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.”

“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.”

So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life!

You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!

“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.”

Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!

“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”

“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.”

Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!”

Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.

“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going.

As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.

So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night.

Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can.

“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”

You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck.

Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you.

“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished.

He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like.

Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”

“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…

He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.”

Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt.

It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”

“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”

“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“

“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock.

And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!

“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment.

Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”

When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!

“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!

…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.

“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.”

With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time.

It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!

“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”

Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.

“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”

You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…

Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?

You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.

A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body.

And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.

Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡

Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?

Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened.

You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…

However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents.

And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.

Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.

SR + TF

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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derealizationns · 2 months ago

Text

"intimacy"

characters - katsuki bakugou x fem reader

synopsis - katsuki’s tough facade crumbles as soon as you two are together, and he loves every second of it.

genre - fluff!!! so much fluff 🥹

warnings - none 🫧

katsuki loves intimacy. he definitely won’t show it, but he’s all for it. that boy is so used to being tough and everything, that it makes him crave those tender and gentle moments.

just imagine simple things like making dinner. the world seems silent, the only things you can hear are the shuffles of yours and katsuki’s slippers and the raindrops hitting the roof of your shared home. bakugou is chopping food on the counter, with you sitting beside him on top of the island, swinging your legs and just observing his movements.

your presence brings him so much comfort, though you aren’t even doing anything special. just the feeling of domesticity makes katsuki experience some weird warm sensation in his chest. he subconsciously smiles at that. it’s a faint smirk, but you still notice it.

after jumping off the countertop, you wrap your arms around his chest and place your head on his muscular back. he huffs with fake annoyance, but in reality, this gesture makes him incredibly happy.

“whatcha doin’, idiot?” he asks.

you roll your eyes at his question.

“i’m showing love to my incredibly strong boyfriend, don’t pretend that you don’t like it.”

at that moment, katsuki shuts up. he can’t lie to your pretty face, that would be cruel, so he just decides to remain silently enjoying your presence and warmth.

some other day, you are lying under the covers with your boyfriend. it’s saturday afternoon, meaning that you two have a day off, just for yourselves. bakugo decided that both of you should watch a movie that just came out, but truth be told, he didn’t even pay attention to it. the boy is simply staring blankly at the tv, visibly deep in thought. you quickly notice his weird behavior and decide to bring it up.

“kats?” you start.

his attention quickly switches to you, bright red eyes staring into yours curiously.

“what’s wrong?” the question falls from your lips.

his expression changes to one of slight shock. perhaps bakugou didn’t realize that he was visibly zoning out, or maybe he just didn’t expect you to mention it. after a few seconds of silence, bakugo finally speaks up.

“nothin’ is wrong, why you askin’?”

you sigh at his words. he is clearly hiding something from you. just when you wanted to scold him for his obvious lie, he speaks again.

“just thinkin’… ’bout how much i love you, i guess…” he starts, but he’s not looking at you anymore; his eyes are fixed on the ceiling. bakugo feels so embarrassed after he says this. the boy silently curses himself for speaking up.

you look at him confused but can’t deny the warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest. katsuki wasn’t the one to express his love so directly, and that took you aback.

“every memory i have with you makes me feel… weird. like, not bad weird, just… puzzled, i guess? i’ve never felt that way, so it’s hard to exp—” you cut off his rambling before he finishes.

“i know what you mean, kats. every moment, even the simplest and most boring one, stirs up something within you, am i right?”

your boyfriend sends you a shocked look. he didn’t expect you to read his emotions so well. you just said everything right! how is that possible? did you read his mind or something? or maybe… it was because those were the same feelings you have…?

“yeah… i think you’re right…” he mumbles, visibly embarrassed by this conversation, so you think it’s time to cut it off.

“but it’s a good feeling, right? like you’re not… overwhelmed?” you ask him worriedly.

katsuki shoots you a look that you think was supposed to be scolding.

“what? no, you idiot. it’s… it’s good, i like it.”

you smile at his words and tuck yourself closer to him, bathing in his warmth.

“that’s good…” you whisper and feel yourself slowly doze off, as bakugou leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

you sleep soundly, dreaming about every soft and domestic moment you had with katsuki. and there were many more to come.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ kirara’s notes . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

thank you for reading this, hope you liked it! likes, follows and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🤍🫧

#⊹₊⟡⋆ kirarasworks #bakugou x reader #izuku midoriya #mha x reader #mha bakugou #mha #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #boku no hero acedamia #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff

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navybrat817 · 2 months ago

Text

Double Shift

Pairing: Chop Shop Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky helps you unwind after you work a double shift.

Word Count: Over 1.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, slight insecurities, bit of backstory, dirty talk, mild smut, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: @nixakimbo was kind enough to gift me with this GORGEOUS edit and I had to create a new AU. Sorry, lovelies? @tavners , this is for you. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You dropped your bag the moment you walked through the door. Your feet ached despite the comfortable shoes, and your head throbbed with each passing second. Groaning, you dragged yourself to the couch, collapsing into it like it was the only place you’d ever wanted to be. Working doubles was exhausting, but this? This was something else entirely.

It was a long day in a series of long days, but now you had a chance to relax.

Reaching for the nearby pillow, you inhaled deeply, a smile tugging at your lips. Instead of the usual fresh scent of your couch, you caught the familiar, warm fragrance of your boyfriend’s cologne. He must have spritzed it before leaving for work. It was like leaning into him and your shoulder relaxed more, even though you wished he were really there.

The sound of the door creaking open a few minutes later told you that your wish had been granted.

“Aww. Long day, baby?” Bucky cooed from the doorway, spotting you sprawled out with no intention of moving to greet him. “You know your bag’s on the ground?”

“Mm-hmm.” You rubbed your temples slowly. “You know I worked a double, right? I’m lucky I made it to the couch.”

His soft chuckle reached your ears as he set his keys down and picked up your bag. “I know and I’m sorry. You work really hard.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead once he reached the couch. “I wish you didn't have to.”

You turned your head, the throbbing in your temples easing when your eyes met his. His black tank top fit him perfectly, complementing the tattoos that stretched across his neck and arms. The skulls and flowers, symbols of death and hope, told stories of his past. Stories he didn't have to tell you about, but he did anyway and you were happy to know every detail. As captivating as the ink was, it was his blue eyes that held you. In them, you saw your future, bright and full of love.

“That’s life. And you work hard, too,” you reminded him.

“Yeah. My job is so honorable,” he mumbled, making a mess of his hair as he ran a hand through it. “I’m really making a difference in the world.”

You frowned sympathetically. Bucky was a gifted mechanic, but his family was dealt a bad hand and he did what he had to do to take care of his younger sister. “And you’ll be out of there soon.”

Once he finished paying off Becca's medical bills, he could quit. That day was getting closer and closer. And one day he’d open his own shop, too, a legitimate shop. You wanted to stand beside him when that dream came true. Becca would be so proud.

Both of you wanted the best for Bucky.

He sighed, sinking to his knees and resting his hands on your thighs. You could see the gray peppering his scruff and you couldn’t help but reach out to run your nails through it. The sound of his groan made you smile, so you did it again.

“I just wanna give you the world,” he whispered, turning his head and kissing your palm. “You know that, right?”

“You already do,” you whispered back, his eyes softening. You had a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and his love in your heart. It was all you needed. “But you know, I could-”

Bucky put a finger to your lips to stop you. “I know what you're going to say and we’re not selling your dad's car.”

You smiled sadly. Your dad’s car was a classic and could get Bucky the money he needed, but he turned the offer down each time you brought it up. He didn't want you to give up one of the only things you had left of your dad. “I won't say a word tonight.”

But you could try again tomorrow.

“Thank you.” He took your hand and kissed your palm again. “You up for a ride later?”

“I don’t think I’m moving from this spot tonight,” you half smiled. “But we can tomorrow.”

“You don’t wanna go for a ride tonight?” he asked, surprise laced in his voice. You usually jumped at the chance to ride his motorcycle with him.

“Feet and head hurt a little,” you admitted, touching his cheek as concern etched his features. “I’m fine, really. Nothing for you to make a fuss about, but I won't turn you down if you want to dote on me.”

“Baby,” he sighed, slipping your shoes off. You gasped when he began massaging the sole of your right foot, the gentle pressure making your body sink deeper into the couch. By the time he switched to your left foot, you were practically melting. “That better?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, combing your fingers through his dark hair. He always took care of you. “I swear, you have magic hands.”

“Oh, I have more than magic hands,” he winked, your heart skipping a beat. “And you know what’s good for headaches?”

“Bucky…” you smiled. There was a warning in your voice, but you couldn't help the amusement in your eyes.

“Yes, me,” he grinned. “I’m very good at helping with headaches and you know it.”

Your smile widened. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, so making you come all over my face before I cook you dinner was not what you meant and will not help your headache?” he asked, his voice deep, dripping with desire.

Whatever ache you felt in your body all went straight to your pussy. A deep, throbbing ache that cried out for him to soothe it since he was the cause. “Is making melt on your tongue as my reward for working a double?”

He smirked at your breathy tone. “That’s exactly what it is.” He didn’t need to ask you to lift your hips when he reached for the waistband of your pants and pulled them off with your underwear. Your body moved on instinct for him, fluid and in sync. “I can feed you right here and carry you to bed, too.”

“I’m too big and heavy for you to carry me,” you teased. His eyes flashed, and before you could react, he leaned down unexpectedly, sinking his teeth into your thigh. Your mouth fell open from the sting, but it felt good, too. “Hey!” You shrieked.

“You’re not big. You’re not heavy. You’re perfect,” he snarled, brushing his tongue along the teeth marks. You wanted his mark all over you. “I’ll blame that remark on how tired you are right now from work.”

Framing his face to lift his head, you met his lips in a soft kiss, hoping to convey how much it meant to you that he saw you as beautiful. How touched you were that he always put your care and feelings first. As scary as he looked to others, you knew the man inside. The one with a heart full of passion.

“I’m not perfect,” you whispered against his lips, gasping when he nibbled your bottom lip. A second bite for once again downplaying yourself. “But I’m perfect for you.”

“You think so?” he asked quietly.

“I know so,” you said, biting his bottom lip for good measure.

He thought you were too good for him some days, and you were quick to shut that down. A good man wouldn’t have taken care of his sister the way he did, and he wouldn’t love you wholeheartedly if he was less of a good person than you. His current profession didn’t define him, and you refused to let him believe it did.

“I...” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Love...” You shivered when he kissed the other corner. “You.”

A flame lit within your heart. His tender touches and words burned you from the inside out. “I love you, too,” you managed to whisper before his lips covered yours again.

Fresh arousal washed over you when he smiled and kissed down your body. “Now let me show you with my mouth how much I love you,” he simpered, parting your legs to open for him. “Might die if I don’t get my mouth on you and you wouldn’t want that, would you? And we need to get rid of your headache.”

You moaned, also feeling like you’d die if he didn’t touch you. “Do I get your cock, too? It’s a pretty bad headache you need to help me get rid of,” you teased. If your pain actually persisted, he’d make you take something and insist on you resting. And maybe it was selfish to ask for more than one orgasm, but you both knew he wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to rock your world.

“Before and after dinner,” he promised, his pupils dialting as he stared between your trembling thighs. “Fuck, I missed you today,” he groaned.

“Missed me or my pussy?” you asked, certain that you were going to soak the cushion beneath you and you didn’t care as long as he got you off. “Because we both missed you.”

He smirked, his hand inching up your thigh. “Of course, you missed me. Who else would make you come as hard as I do?”

Cocky was a good look on him, but you could play a little, too. “Well…” Your coy smile had him raising his eyebrow. “If you really want to know, there’s-” You threw your head back with a cry as Bucky’s head dipped down to taste you, effectively cutting off your teasing.

It wouldn’t take long for you to coat his fingers and tongue with your release. It never did with him. He’d make you taste yourself when he kissed you after so you could fully appreciate the orgasm he gave you. He wouldn’t give you any reprieve when he’d bend you over the couch and sink his cock into your sensitive pussy. Your sounds would be erotic music to his ears, just like his words were music to yours.

“Grind that pussy back against me. Show me how much you crave my cock.”

“Such a good girl for me. Such a good pussy for me to fuck and fill.”

“Don’t you dare rub your clit. You wanna come? I’ll make you come.”

“Oh, you don’t have to beg for me to come inside you. I’ll give it to you.”

You’d scream his name in ecstasy and pass out in his arms from the best kind of exhaustion. You’d wake up to him kissing your forehead and holding you upright so he could hand feed you a delicious meal. You’d smile when he told you how much he loved you and that he'd be free of the chop shop soon. And you’d tell him you loved him, too, before he fucked you all over again.

It was going to be a good night.

Appreciate you lovelies indulging me like always and hope to share more when I can. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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bananayuyu · 3 months ago

Text

Lust is in the Air

Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex

A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes

------

Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.

"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"

"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.

"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.

"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.

"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.

"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.

"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.

Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.

"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.

"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."

After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.

"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.

"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.

On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.

"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.

"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.

"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.

"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.

"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.

"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.

"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.

"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."

Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.

As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.

"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.

"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.

"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.

"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.

You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.

"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.

"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'

"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.

"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.

"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.

"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.

"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.

"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.

Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.

"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.

You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.

"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.

"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.

"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.

"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.

"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."

Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.

"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.

"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.

"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.

"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."

"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.

"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.

"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."

"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"

"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.

"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.

"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.

"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.

"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."

"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.

"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.

"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.

"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.

"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.

"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.

"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.

"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.

"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.

"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.

"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.

And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.

"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.

"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.

"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.

"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.

"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.

"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.

"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.

Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.

As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.

"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."

It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.

"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.

"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.

"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.

Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.

"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.

"You want to see me naked?" he teases.

"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.

"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.

"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.

And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.

"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.

"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"

Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.

"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.

"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.

Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'

Be back soon, you write back.

"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.

"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.

"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.

"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."

You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?

"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.

"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.

"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.

As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.

Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.

#ateez smut #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader

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megwritesriddles · 3 months ago

Text

In the Back of Your Mind ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Young! Severus Snape x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 4 - Stalking. Severus is in love with you from afar. Severus is also very good at legilimency. You show a tiny bit of interest by helping him out in class and he loses a little more of his self-control.

Tags: Stalking, P in V, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (f receiving, a LOT of it), Very dubious consent, Mind manipulation / control, Brainwashing, Improper use of legilimency, Toxic relationships, Yandere Snape, Creepy perverted behaviour, Fantasising, Implied loss of virginity, Self-blaming.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 3.7k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Severus in this fic is written to be a walking red flag, don't seek this kind of relationship irl!! I started to get a headache toward the end of writing this, sorry if it's noticeable in the writing!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Splat, Severus’ books thud to the ground. A cacophony of laughs erupts behind him, led by James Potter, a satisfied smirk on his face from having caused this mild inconvenience. Severus huffs and rolls his eyes, luckily hidden by his mop of long black hair. He bends down to pick up the books, not at all surprised when James nudges one further away with the toe of his shoe. He shuffles forward and picks it up too, straightening himself back up, head hung low. He shuffles across the hall to lean against a wall further from the marauders, who hoot and laugh at him. Even putting himself in their shoes he can’t understand what’s so funny about watching someone pick up books. None of it matters anyway, because you’ll be here soon. Perfect you. You always arrive at this class at 12:56, with your friend by your side. You’d usually be chatting, finishing off a pastry from lunch, whatever had taken your fancy that day, Severus guessed it would be the Pumpkin pasties today. He watches the clock above the door into the potion's dungeon, feeling a familiar tingle of excitement. Just as he knew you would, almost exactly as the clock struck 12:56, your voice drifted around the corner down the corridor. He watches behind his hair as you come into view, chatting happily with your friend, carefully holding a hand in front of your mouth as you chew. He imagines you spotting him, smiling and making your way over, giggling and offering him a bite of your pastry. He’d go to bite it and you’d withdraw it playfully, just to tease him, you’d laugh that bright laugh you have and he’d give you a chastising look before stealing a kiss from you, making you smile wider. You’d wrap your arms around his neck, pushing closer so that–

He’s yanked from his thoughts by Slughorn opening the doors to the lab, the heavy wood scraping unpleasantly against the stone floor. Everyone starts to head inside, he keeps his head down as he enters, hanging back at his usual spot at the back of the room, the spot with a perfect view of you. He places his books down, watching as you quickly scoff the last of your pastry, a pumpkin pasty as he’d guessed before the lesson started. Throughout the lesson he’s watching you, barely concentrating on the topic at hand, he doesn't need to, he already read up on it in his own time so that he can watch you. He’s lucky, in a way, that he only has you for potions, no matter how much he wishes you always there, always by him, always in view, else he may never learn anything at all. You lean forward on the desk, your chin in your palms, legs swinging under the desk. He can vaguely make out the outline of your bra through the back of your uniform shirt, it’s black, clasped on the final row. He almost jots this down on his parchment before he catches himself. He imagines that if he told you this, you’d laugh and call him something childish and endearing, like a ‘silly sausage’, flicking his nose gently. He’s lost in this fantasy, this world where he can tell you that he’s watching you and you find it sweet, going through the motions of setting up his workstation for brewing. He doesn’t even realise that Slughorn is calling out to him until your head turns towards him, looking curious. He notices with a start that the entire class is looking at him, the marauders laughing tauntingly among themselves.

“Er… what?” he croaks out, his voice a little rough from barely speaking all day. He hears a few more chuckles, but not from you. Kind, perfect you. You just glance between him and Slughorn without a hint of judgement in your eyes.

“Your hair is getting rather too long, boy, you’ll have to tie it up for this potion, it’s very volatile,” Slughorn chortles from the front of the room. “Do any of the ladies have a spare?” He addresses the room. The marauders and a couple of the other boys explode with laughter, several of the girls immediately shake their heads, or do nothing, except beautiful, perfect you. You’re picking up your bag and digging through it without a second's hesitation and he could kiss you right now, not that there was any time he felt like he couldn’t. Your friend, obviously shamed into action by you, flicks half-heartedly through her bag too. The rest of the class returns to setting up.

“A-ha!” you exclaim, pulling out a plain black hairband from your bag. Black like your bra, his brain supplies, but he shakes that off because you’re walking over to him. He’s immediately sweating, luckily you’re unlikely to notice through his robes, although you may notice the growing sheen on his forehead. You stand in front of him, smiling like an angel. He’s not this close to you often, somehow you’re even more ethereal up close. He takes a shaky breath as you extend the hairband to him. "Don't listen to them, Black is only about an inch away from needing one himself,"

“Th-Thank you…” He mumbles, brushing your fingertips with his own on purpose. It feels like a thousand fireworks exploding under his skin and he smiles shakily. You smile and shrug.

“Just get it back to me when you can, or keep it honestly, I have hundreds and you’ll probably need it again,” you explain happily. You always seem to have nothing bringing you down and he admires it, wishing he could be so positive, perhaps it’s easy when you’re as flawless as you are. You skip off back to your workstation to your friend. He has something in his hand that is yours, something he’s allowed to keep, something he didn’t have to snatch when you left the room. There’s a couple of your hairs stuck around it and he shivers in excitement. This is something you have used, and he has it through legitimate means. He’s floating on air. While everyone else is beginning to brew, he hides behind his cauldron carefully laying down your hairs in his notebook, making sure not to break them, securing them so they don’t fall out.

Eventually, once he’s sure he can’t extract any more of yours from the hairband, he finally ties his hair back into a low ponytail, getting to work. He’s confident he can catch up on the brewing time he missed, even as he keeps being distracted by the sight of you across the room, your hair pulled up out of your face in the same type of hairband you gave him. You’re gorgeous, somehow more than usual, which shouldn’t be possible or, frankly, legal. He’s often wondered if you’re part Veela somewhere far back, because of how absolutely perfect you are. Through extensive research of your family tree, he was able to prove himself wrong, but he still wonders. His potion expertise allows him to catch up on the potion, still being awarded the best potion in class by the end of it. He almost feels bad for everyone who actually put some effort into brewing just to lose to him again, but that feeling melts away when he spots you grinning at him as Slughorn announces his win. The two of you have never been friends, but you have always been silently friendly toward him, refusing to be swayed by the rumours about him. It’s perhaps what he loves the absolute most about you. He’s packing up when you approach him again, smiling softly.

“I actually like your hair up like this,” you whisper, reaching over to gently flick the end of his short ponytail. Severus doesn’t know if you’re teasing him or not. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, both by your words and your playful touch. A hundred images of fantasies he’s had about you over the years flash through his mind. You’ve touched him! Willingly! In that playful way, he’d always imagined you would. It takes a lot of effort to remind himself that he can’t just kiss you right now. His mouth falls open and he lets out an undignified throaty noise. He quickly covers it up with a cough, blinking rapidly.

“I um… you… do?” he chokes out. You study his face for a moment, he’s sure you’re about to change your mind. You could never be so cruel though, he knows this, you’re too wonderful.

“Yeah… it’s nice to see your eyes sometimes,” you tease. Severus forces himself to laugh back casually, trying to force down the love hearts that are practically forming in his eyes. He also has to stop himself from grabbing you, never letting you move away again. He regrets holding himself back when your friend comes up behind you and ushers you away to your next class. You smile at him over your shoulder as you begin to leave. He quickly decides to use the compliments you’ve just given him against you. He wonders how much you really meant to them, but he has to try anyway. He invades your mind, silently smug about your lack of defences even after all this time. He feeds you a vision based on what you’ve just said. His head between your perfect supple thighs, looking up at you with wide needy eyes, his hair pulled back just like this, devouring your sweet cunt. He knows he’s been successful as he watches you suddenly flush and turn away, your cheeks bright red.

He doesn’t really know how you feel about these visions. He’s been invading your mind and planting them since the end of the fifth year. He would love to stick around in your brain, find out how you react to them, do some digging, and find out how you really feel about him, but he can’t risk it. The longer you’re in somebody's mind, the more they can feel the foreign presence. You’re still yet to put up any wards, even rudimentary ones, so he assumes you don’t realise you’re being invaded. You also haven’t started to avoid him more than normal, if you realised these visions were coming from someone else, there would only be one logical conclusion as to who they came from, but you haven’t withdrawn or confronted him in any way, so he figures he’s safe for now. The nature of the visions he gives you is probably enough to distract you from the momentary uncomfortable tingle of someone else being in your brain. He’s been experimenting for a long while to see what thoughts you react to the best. He often sits in the dining hall, somewhere where he has the perfect view of you, and plants various thoughts. You don’t seem to school your emotions very well, so he gets a vague idea of how you react to each scenario. He’s tried visions of him bending you over, roughly taking everything he wants from you, he’s tried visions of him begging on his knees to please you and everything in between. You blush beautifully at each one, whether from embarrassment or arousal, he isn’t sure. He can’t wait to feel your cheek heat up under his hand, because he will get to feel it, some day. You don’t seem to like the more extreme scenarios, complete domination or complete submission, but you don’t seem to mind either way if the power dynamic is a little milder. He doesn’t mind, he would be anything for you, do anything. What you seem to like best is when he feeds you a vision of him eating you out. He supposes it makes sense, it’s completely focused on your pleasure, so it’s practically all he’s been giving you lately. Sometimes he holds you down and calls you a good girl, sometimes you’re riding his face and calling him a good boy, you seem to like it either way. It makes him unbelievably smug.

After dinner, he’s trailing you and your friends to your common room, just to make sure that you’re safe, nothing more. He’s a little careless, feeding you the same vision over and over, enjoying watching you blush and stutter from afar as you try to chat with your friends. You probably think you’ve been hit with a lust potion or something, as he isn’t letting you think of anything else. It seems you hadn’t lied when you’d told him you liked his hair in the ponytail, as every time he gave you the same vision from earlier, he noticed your thighs tense. This isn’t a reaction he gets from you often at all, usually, it’s so subtle that he can be convinced it was unrelated, but this vision, in particular, seems to have you doing this every time. He’d dropped his fork at dinner just to duck under the table to watch your thighs clench, the sight nearly making his mouth water. He wished he could get under your table and spread your legs, make that vision a reality, but sadly he could not. He would do it in a heartbeat if you asked, fuck the consequences, fuck who could see. Maybe one day, if he kept torturing you with this vision, you would come begging. He feels his cock twitching eagerly in his trousers at the thought. You disappear into your common with your friends, him watching from around the corner. He sighs in disappointment, deciding to leave you be for the night since he can’t delight in your lovely little reactions any more. He hangs around at the corner for a moment, debating whether to head outside onto the grounds to watch you through your dorm window like he often did. The mini telescope he had to buy for Astronomy had turned out to be a fantastic use of money, even if he did often see your roommates instead. He had seen them all in various states of undress by now, but he couldn’t care about any of them in the least, he only had eyes for you.

Over the next few days, he eases off a little, realising how reckless he’d been. He couldn’t risk you knowing what he’s been doing, he can’t imagine that would end very well, even if you had seemed to grow to like the visions he gave you. He didn’t stop altogether, because that would have arguably been just as suspicious. He keeps it tame, one or two a day, maybe a little more innocent than normal. He can’t help but continue to use the information about you liking his hair back, making sure every fantasy he feeds you has him that way. He keeps your hairband, pulling his hair back every day now, because it makes you look at him just a second longer, and he’s obsessed with it. Lucius comments on it, saying it looks odd, but he couldn’t care less. It makes secretly watching you harder too, as he can’t hide behind his hair so much, but he makes do, all for those extra glances. He continues his routines, waiting for you to emerge in the mornings from your common room by hiding around the corner, watching you at every mealtime, trailing you back to the common room in the evening and then watching you through your window whenever he feels the need.

One night, once he’s happy you’re safely back in your common room, he turns to leave but trips slightly over his feet. He glances down, realising with an exasperated huff that the laces on his oxfords have come undone. He crouches down to tie them, setting his other knee on the ground. He fumbles with them unnecessarily, frustrated with himself. He vaguely registers footsteps approaching him, but not enough to react before he hears a voice.

“Oh… Severus, what are you doing here?” your soft angelic voice echoes slightly in the empty corridor. You seem confused, and, arguably, you have reason to be. The only thing down this corridor is your common room, and he has no excuse to be here. He swallows, staring straight down at the ground, his mind working a mile a minute.

“Here to return the hairband,” he grunts, thinking fast. It’s the only excuse he has, even if you had told him to keep it. He looks up at you from his crouched position, you’re a lot closer to him than he thought. He realises how similar this position is to some of the ones he’s forced into your brain. He’s pleased to notice, from the flush on your face, that you make this connection too, without it being planted. He shifts slightly, lowering both his knees to the ground and facing you properly. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with barely contained arousal. You’re flushed and shy as you look down at him and he dares to invade your mind to see what you’re thinking. He can’t fight the twitch of his lips as he creeps into your mind, only to find you’re imagining him, just as he is now, pushing up your skirt and burying his face between your legs. He shivers, you’re thinking of this all on your own. There’s a nag at the back of his mind, telling him you don’t quite seem to want to be thinking this, but he ignores it, reaching up for your thighs. You yelp in surprise as his cold, long fingers press into the warm skin of your thighs and he pulls you forward.

“Wha- what are you doing?” you squeak, stumbling helplessly toward him. He doesn’t answer, he feels possessed, and he’s already salivating. He brushes his nose against the skin of your thigh, just under the hem of your skirt, making you gasp. You smell divine, a vague hint of your perfume, presumably stuck to the fabric of your skirt, a hint of something that he realises, with a growl, must be your arousal. You try to step away, but he grips you harder, keeping you in place. He knows you want him, even if you don’t seem to know it yourself. You whimper as he licks a stripe up your thigh, the taste is faintly salty and he groans in pleasure. He hears the old castle creak slightly, reminding him that the two of you are out in the open. He withdraws slightly. You look utterly dazed above him like you don’t understand what’s going on. You realise that he’s walking you to a cleaning cupboard nearby, and your legs just blindly follow him. You want to protest, but can’t seem to find it in you. You had been fantasising about this for years now, even if the reason for these fantasies never seemed to make sense. He brings you in, shutting the door behind you. He’s kneeling again in an instant, he almost looks crazed as he bunches up your skirt. He doesn’t even give you time to acclimate before his tongue is on you through the material of your underwear. You gasp out loudly as he tastes the small wet spot of fabric, when did you even get wet? He takes a long deep sniff, his nose nudging at your clit through the fabric. He licks at you desperately until the material is soaked through, both with his saliva and your arousal. You were shocked by just how intensely your body was reacting to all this. You let him slide down your underwear, figuring there’s no point stopping him now. You lean back against the wall as he buries his head between your legs, shaking his head slightly to get even closer, the movement making you moan softly. He’s undeniably eager, lapping and slurping at you, but it’s fairly clear he’s never done this before. This is all he’s ever wanted, and he’s determined to make the most of it, the scent and taste of you making him feel insane. He rubs you all over his face, wriggling his tongue against you, gripping the flesh of your buttocks to keep you in place. He’s mumbling against you, about how long he’s been picturing this, but you can’t quite hear him, which is probably for the best. He makes up for his lack of experience with his enthusiasm, the way he’s looking up at you like he’s desperate to please. You find yourself falling apart all over his face shockingly fast, biting your lip to stifle your whines.

“Thank you, thank you,” he mumbles over and over as he laps you all up. He pulls away and you go a little limp, sliding slightly down the wall as he stands. You barely register what’s happening as he turns you around pressing you up against the wall, your eyes widen as he pushes inside you, but by now you’re well past the point of no return, so you simply brace yourself against the wall. He humps you like a dog in heat, sloppy and fast, you’re glad he made you orgasm earlier because you don’t get the feeling you will be cumming from this. Not that it feels bad, in fact, it feels quite good, making you moan as he bullies against you. He grips your waist tight with his slender fingers. “This is perfect, everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” he whimpers in your ear. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I’m never letting you go, you’re mine now,” you know what he’s saying is worrying, but your fucked out mind can’t quite realise the true danger of what he’s saying and what your lack of protesting is solidifying in his mind. “All mine,” he growls, his hips stuttering violently. He buries himself as deep as he can. “Fo-forever,” he groans shakily as he spills deep inside of you. He holds you there for a long time, your body limp in his arms as he pants against the back of your neck. You feel lightheaded, you can’t believe everything that’s just happened to you. He kisses your cheek, over and over, as if it's some sort of compulsion. “Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles repeatedly, the reality of everything starting to sink in for you. Maybe you should have believed the rumours about his mental instability, maybe you should have kicked him away when he first grabbed your thighs, perhaps you should be telling him right now that you’re not his, but instead, a string of words come out of your mouth, feeling like they’re only half your own.

“Can you eat me out again?”

And he happily complies, sliding back down onto his knees.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

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sunniskyies · 4 months ago

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𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 || 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Reader forgets she has Ford’s mind reading device on… 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ford Pines x fem!shy!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Makeout, fluffy shy stuff 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k 𝐀/𝐍: This is so so so out of my league with this kind of thing, but I had a vision and had to try, so forgive me if it’s not the best !! ( you can read this as young or old Ford by the way ! )

“Are you going to tell me what exactly that is?” You ask shyly, perched neatly on a wooden stool in the deepest room of Ford’s laboratory. The man in question is bustling around the benches, plugging in wires and fiddling with dials and buttons.

“It’s a mental-strengthening device, able to encrypt one’s thoughts to prevent dream demons like Bill Cipher from entering.”

You purse your lips. “Ah. Of course.”

Ford looks briefly over at you while he tinkers. “I don’t want any chance of that creature making his way into our world. The damage he causes is… irrevocable.”

You fall silent, quietly studying the scientist’s practised hands and that little furrow in his brow you doubt he’s aware of. You see it often, in your stolen glances as you set his coffee down in the mornings, or when his eyes linger for a moment on his work when you call for his attention.

You let yourself sit in the warm feeling that spreads through your skin, toying with the fantasy of him for just a moment. Before you know it, Ford is approaching you with a gadget in his hands, and you’re pushing those silly thoughts from your mind.

“This is the receiver,” Ford explains, gesturing to the sieve-like helmet in his hands. “May I put it on you?”

All you manage is a ‘mhm’, and you hope your ears aren’t bright red when Ford places the bronze contraption over your hair. As he adjusts it here and there his fingers often brush your skin, you’re mortified as goosebumps shiver over your skin. Luckily, from what you know about Stanford Pines, he isn’t the most observant man unless you happen to have three eyes or an off-on switch.

Being Ford’s assistant has been the best opportunity of your life, but childishly you often wish for something more. To see those lips say your name not just to thank you for your helping hands. To have the confidence to show Ford the book of research you’ve been privately gathering, his eyes catching yours as he realises the potential he’d never seen in you before…

For the millionth time reality pulls you from your daydreams. Ford crouches down slightly, your faces level, your eyes on his while his are at your hairline. A six-fingered hand gently tucks loose strands back from your face.

“There,” he says, eyes catching yours. “Equipped. How does that feel?”

You swallow, voice a tad too squeaky, “All good!”

“Perfect. I’ll begin the calibration, inform me if you experience any discomfort,” he nods, satisfied, before sweeping away again.

As you wait, you silently tap on your knees, looking around. You look over the table behind you to see a television screen with—

Your thoughts.

A string of your most embarrassing ideas visualised on a ceiling-high collection of screens, unarguably clingy and desperate desires paired with Ford’s name scrolling everywhere.

You whip your gaze over to Ford, dew already appearing over your skin. He seems to be engrossed in whatever's in his hands, but it’s only a matter of time before he sees all… that!

Fuck, fuck, fuck! The screens mirror the chant in your mind.

You try vainly to think of other things, random words and imagery slowly but surely creeping onto the televisions. Polar Bears. Adjectives. Pencils, pens, markers. Dates and historical impact of various civil wars. Charity raffles. That one catchy jingle. Discombobulation. Ambystoma mexicanum.

Ford looks up. “Finished!” He says with a quick smile.

You quietly clear your throat. “Uhm. Wow! This is very clever, Ford, although I must admit didn’t realise it displayed the user's consciousness?”

His eyebrows raise at your question, before his face softly twists with confusion as he stares at the reading. He glances back over at you with the face of someone just realising how stupid something is. Yet, you almost slump with relief. At least he only thinks you're simple, not a freak.

“Well, yes, it does. Did I not mention that?” He says slowly. “I was going to suggest you exercise your brain to ensure the program reaches every aspect of your cognition… but it seems you’re… already… doing that?” He questions hesitantly. Your smile is too-bright.

“Oh, yes, that is what I am doing. Yep.” You squeak.

“Right.”

The silence is palpable, a thick sludge that clings to your form. Sometimes both your wandering stares slide over each other, awkward blips before you both avert eye contact. You hear the hum of machinery, the soft tap of your shoe on the floor. Your fingers itch to grab your journal from your pocket to give yourself something to do with your hands, but you’re embarrassed at what Ford would see as you ponder over it. The silence stretches on and on, until you can’t bear not to break it.

“So, you, uhm, said something about exercising the mind?” You blurt sheepishly.

Ford’s eyes are immediately on you. “Yes! Yes, just try to keep your mind active, it helps the protection process.”

And the silence is back. Perhaps even worse than before.

Desperate for relief, you pull your journal from your pocket. You wave it weakly, “Mind if I do some work?”

Ford adjusts his glasses. “No, no of course not. Go ahead.” He gestures at the various desks stationed around the room. You shoot him a quick smile and spin on your stool to the table next to you, propping open the journal and continuing an essay you plan to submit as a paper in your current university course.

This works, taking your mind off your vulnerability as you focus on your work. This is what you love about science, about academia, the ability to lose yourself in something so complex, so worthwhile. You really can’t wait to get your research out there and make a name for yourself.

You write for a while, pen often times balanced between teeth. You don’t quite register Ford coming up behind you until his tilted head is in your peripheral.

“Fantastic,” he mutters absently, his face well and truly absorbed on the open page. Embarrassed, you half-heartedly cover the page with your hands.

“Oh, no, it’s really not anything special.” You mumble, eyes averted.

“No, really, I love it. You’re studying quantum physics, right?” He insists, head tilted trying to catch his eye. When you do, he has a soft smile painted on. Your cheeks glow pink.

“Yes, I major in quantum physics and forensic science. I minor in biomedical engineering, and I’m additionally doing an online paper on parapsychology with the only university that does it, in, uh, Finland.” The sparkle in Ford’s eyes grows as you timidly recite your areas of study.

“Parapsychology? That’s brilliant!” He remarked, awed. “Why didn’t you say that, I would love to take you out on my field days. I study all sorts of paranormal and supernatural activity here. It'd be great to share it with someone.”

“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you,” you say hushed, fending off a stammer. Internally, your heart is soaring. Yes yes yes!

“It’d be no trouble,” he says earnestly, soft features returned as if coaxing you out of your shell. “I knew you were smart, but I had no idea the extent,’ he says, almost to himself.

Your eyes lock on him immediately. “You think that?”

He seems surprised. “Of course I do. You’re an exceptional assistant, and you’ve been in study for ages. I’ve heard nothing less than great things about when I send my own work to our local university. Not many scholars live out here, you know?”

You can’t drag your eyes away from him, and you're sure Ford can see every star in the galaxy swirling in your pupils right now. This is everything, everything you’ve wanted.

You’re not sure whether it’s the surge of confidence, or the way Ford’s looking so gently at you, but you’re acutely aware of how low Ford has bent down to talk to you. It would only take a small movement to bring your faces together.

And so, heart fluttering with this moment of bravery, you rise slightly up on the balls of your feet and press a small kiss to Ford’s cheek.

“Thank you,” you breathe, the sensation in your chest borderline sickening. “It, uh, means a lot.”

Ford doesn’t say a word, eyes wide but painfully unreadable. The silence is once again, stifling.

“Not a lot of fellow scientists in this area, like you said,” You hastily ramble on after a long moment. The gap doesn’t last this time, though.

In a swift motion Ford’s hand is at your cheek. You barely have time to inhale before his lips are on yours, their warmth sinking against your mouth.

You’d never imagined them to be so firm, although his proximity doesn’t give your mind any room to think about anything. It’s all happening so fast, your mind dizzied as you reciprocate his intentful kisses.

Your pen clatters slightly on the table as your hand releases it, quickly gripping to Ford as his arms snake around you and lift you up. He spins, setting you on the table in the middle of the room. You’re sure at some point you have or will let slip an embarrassing sound, but you’re wholly focused on Ford and how you’re sitting at his level on the tall table; him standing before you with his hands at your waist. Your knees brush either side of his thighs.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, his hands in turn pull you closer. It’s eager and messy, making your pulse thud wildly. You never thought a man would want you like this, never catching an eye. Let alone the genius that is—

Abruptly, his lips leave yours, the emptiness not lasting long as they move just beneath your lip, then down to your jaw. They trail down to the side of your neck, lips brushing over the shiver on your skin. Small breaths leave your mouth when you feel a glimmer of teeth against your collarbone.

You tilt your head, resting against his where he’s kissing your shoulder in the crook of your neck. Your hands remain tangled in his hair, your eyes closed.

Your bodies are so close together, his lips are all-consuming. It’s bliss. The man you’ve loved for so long, holding you like he’s besotted. Like he’s just as infatuated as you. The thought thrills through your mind; He wants me.

“I can assure you, I most certainly do,” Ford murmurs breathlessly against your skin. You pause, the statement uncannily sounding like a response to your thought…

Oh. Oh no.

The machine. The mind reading. The television directly behind your back.

You haltingly turn your head, face pale. The screen is, in fact, still reciting your thoughts. Every thought. And Ford’s facing it.

“Oh my god,” You groan, palming your forehead. You sink into yourself, drowning in humiliation. But Ford’s hand fishes beneath your chin, tipping your glowing face to look at him. His face is one of endless kindness beneath his mussed hair.

“It’s really not a bad thing, sweetness.” He says gently. You shake your head slightly, eyes squeezing shut.

His thumb creeps up the side of your face, face dipping level to yours. “No, seriously. It’s a very encouraging thing for a man to see.” He jokes warmly. You peek an eye open. Heavens, did he have to look so irresistibly handsome all the time?

“Should I, uhm, remove…” you gesture at the contraption atop your head, teeth worrying your lip.

Ford hesitates for a moment, thinking as his thumb strokes your cheek. “No. No, it’s too important. I can’t have Bill infiltrating your mind.”

You wilt slightly, but Ford once again brings you back to him. “It’ll only take a moment. Half an hour at most.” His eyes flicker fleetingly at your lips. “And besides, it’ll be sunset by then. I hear you can see a meteor shower tonight? If you drive up the hill a little.”

You hum a soft confirmation, smile melting onto your flushed features as Ford presses a last kiss to your cheek. “Good,” He murmurs. “I’ll go fetch the coats.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sleeplessdreamer14 @2hiigh2cry @taffycandyqt @papi-machucha @muffin1304

@space1crow @fries11 @yasuuuudere @shadowsandswords @darling-eos

@bloodspatteredprincess @snake-in-a-flower-crown @defmxl @ryanthatsgay2

#gravity falls #ford x reader #stanford x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #ford pines #stanford pines #gravity falls x reader #fanfic #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls stanford #one shot #ford pines x you #stanford pines x you #fanfiction

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yuvany · 4 months ago

Text

"MS.UGLY DUCKLING" ft SIM JAKE

SYNOPSIS : growing up "ugly" was not for the weak. Being absolutely ignored both in and outside of school was not for the weak. No one is ever ugly forever though. Changing schools and meeting new people, but most importantly meeting him might have been the best choice you've ever made in a very, very long time.

CONTENT WARNINGS : angst (with a happy ending) + bullying + insecurities + strangers to friends + friends to lovers + written in second perspective + self deprication + fluff + long + little rushed + partially proofread

ACTORS : ENHYPEN JAKE x FEMALE READER

WORD COUNT : ~ 4k

CHECK BOX !!

i. "WHY WON'T THEY EVER PLAY WITH ME," you asked your mother after returning home from a long and harsh first day of school. Your hair looked a mess, and dirt was scattered across your clothes, yet your voice sounded like childish innocence and pure wonder. Maybe it was too much for such a young child to realise that her newly made friends maybe weren't actually her friends?

(Read more under the cut)

"I'm sure they didn't mean to?" She replied, her voice sounding soft and vulnurable, feeling like she was responsible for the sorrows and grief that her child had been put through, since she was the one who had bought you into this world. Instead of confronting the problem, she told her child that the world wasn't as evil as it seemed, that thinking on the bright side, or the possibilities, were the correct way to live life.

Eight-year-old girl walked up the stairs with heavy weights glued beneath her feet after dinner was finished. You threw yourself onto your bed that was neatly made in the morning before you went to school happily, just to come home opposite of the way you left. The softness of the pillow and blanket laying on your bed was enough to comfort you as you buried your face deep into it and wrapping the blanket around you tightly. You wished for friends, and you wished to be happy, but most of all, you wanted to be like everybody else.

ii. ONE MORE DAY at school, the daily mistreatment never seeming to come to a halt. You walked through the corridors anxiously holding onto the straps of your backback tightly with your pair of eyes wandering all over the place in case of danger. This was certainly not nessecary for a child your age, but when nobody chooses to help, you've got to start taking care of yourself.

Maybe it was your nerves that made it feel as if everyone's eyes were on you, but their mouths would open to release a fit of laughter that they had held in until specifically you walked past them. You crossed your arms, feeling extra aware of yourself now, guessing that they were laughing and giggling at you, which you didn't appreciate, but you were also too insecure and scared to speak up against them.

You reached your locker, looking forward to being able to collect your throught, away from everyone else, the locker shielding you away from their piercing gazes and judgemental stares and whispers. As you look up from your shoes, you see piles of gum stuck onto your locker, the gum being pressed onto the metal aggressively by the people you wished you didn't see. It was them; the popular girls of the school, and few of many people who seemed to despise you. They saw you standing there, shooting you an all too familiar look before walking away with their hips swaying from side to side dramatically.

You approched your locker to finally see what they were doing up close, "UGLY!" it read. You felt embarrased imagining all the people who passed by and saw this. Did they laugh? Did they feel bad for you? What did they think? You wanted to run away and hide in a deep hole you'd dig up with all the stored up shame inside of you.

iii. "MOM, DO YOU THINK I'M PRETTY?" You asked your mother once more, years after the first, but soon to the recent encounter. "I think you're very pretty." She says, but your gut tells you another story. "Really?" You ask, awaiting her response that takes a long while before she hums lowly. That just confirms it, she wasn't being honest. "Thanks," you say, with no emotion in your tone. She looks away and eats her dinner quietly.

You quickly finish yours, and wash it in the faucet, the soap bubbling up and covering your fingers as you scrub and rub the plate, utensils and glass that you used. After finishing that up, you return to your room, locking it behind you. You hid under the covers for a while until it got too suffocating and warm, leaving you itchy and irriatted before sliding out and standing in front of the mirror. You inspected every inch and detail of your face, feeling not so content with some parts. You sighed at your reflection that looked back at you with tired, red eyes. At just fourteen years old, you began caring about how you looked, and how others precieved you, so you took matters into your own hands. That night, you stayed up all night searching for 'how to be prettier' and scrolled endlessly through social media.

The next day, you had decided to get a new hair cut to maybe fix the way you looked, you knew excatly what you wanted, and how to cut it. Before anyone else woke up, even before the first birds chirped their morning tune, you made your way to the bathroom and grabbed a pair of scissors in your grasp. You carefully cut strand for strand, the same way you remebered how the video showed. "It doesn't look too bad." You think to yourself, and then you hear footsteps outside the door. Your eyes quickly scanned the hair that layed on the tiled floor and faucet, wondering what to do with it.

Too late. The door slowly swung open and in came your mom. She was silent upon seeing the scene, the horror only showing in her eyes. "What happened here?" She asked like a sharp whisper. "I just cut my hair..." You reply equally quiet. You see her shake her head in disappointment, so you turn your head down, looking at all the hair that had been flying everywhere while you had fun cutting your hair, and suddenly you weren't as proud of your hair cut like you were before. "Go get the broom, y/n." You obeyed your mother's order and hurried out of the bathroom feeling tears of embarrassment reaching your eyes.

iv. YOU STARTED WEARING MAKE UP to cover up, but to everyone else, you told them that you wore make up becase you thought it looked pretty. Still, they'd give weird glances toward each others, which you knew was their way of judging you.

Each morning, you woke up early to sit in front of your mirror examining your appearance like you always did. Hoping and praying to somehow change over night, you hated how your features looked together. You opened the drawer of your vanity and picked up sponges and brushes, leaving them aside for later use while you chose the different essintials. You had prepared the whole summer break to look pretty. Every day, you followed a new tutorial, improving as you continued. You did all this to look presentable at school.

You thinly spread the foundation across your face, dabbing the liquid evenly all over as you moved onto the next step. You sat there for a long time, perfecting each detail and mole, brushing your brows and coating your eyelashes with mascara, and lastly smacking your lips together after applying lipstick.

You stood in front of your larger mirror that you had ignored and hidden away since you never wanted to see yourself ever, but now you felt prepared. In your eyes you looked prettier. You wore your hair differently, you had earrings and necklaces, the school uniform from last year looking a lot better than you remembered. The confidence boost put a smile on your face as you made your way downstairs and made yourself breakfast.

In the kitchen, your mum was sipping her coffee calmly, but as she saw you walk in, her eyes widened in shock, but she didn't say anything. "Good morning!" You greeted happily, and she waved her hand slowly, still trying to process what was happening. "You look different." She comments, and you are content with that reply, and answer, "Thank you, mum!" You proceed to eat your breakfast and then made your way to school.

At shcool, you felt everyone's eyes hooked on your face. The corridors got quiet when you walked by, and you heard murmurs and whispers about you, "Is that really y/n?" "No way..." "What happened." You didn't know what context to put it in and just walked with hurry in your steps, wanting to get to your class and focus on your studies.

Lunch also happened to be no different compared to before your make over, the group of three girls made their way to your table, cackling amongst themselves, planning what to do today. You, who already finshed your lunch stood up to walk away, not wanting to have an encounter with them, until one of them, the blonde barbie, knocked into you with her lunch tray, spilling her food and drink all over you. "oops!" he chuckled cheerily, enjoying the laughs and fingers pointed at you from around her in the cafeteria. You angrily stood up and rushed over to the bathroom, feeling embarrassed once again.

v. "I WANT TO CHANGE SCHOOLS." You say to your mother after a long while of thinking, fearing that you might make the wrong decision, but what could possibly go worse than how it already is? Your mother is sneering at you from the side as she puts down the bags of groceries by the sink. She hums, and you wait for her reply, feeling your heart beat through your ribs, beating so hard that you start belive it'd jump out of your body any second. To be fair, you'd rather for that to happen than to be rejected of this preposition. "Are you sure?" She asks with uncertainty in her voice after silence, and you nod your head, "Of course." "Think about it for a little more, and then we can ask your father when he returns home." She says and walks away. How much longer could you ponder it when you're already certain.

You help her organise the groceries, washing them in the sink to sterilise it of bacteria before placing it in either the fridge or freezer and taking your sweet time, not knowing what else to do other than lay in your bed or be on your phone scrolling through social media.

So, that's exactly what you did for the past hour or so after your chores.

Of course it was boring, but you had nothing else to do. Homework was done, your room was clean and you could only wait for dinner with your father. You heard the sound of the stove from your room, and rushed down to help prepare with your mother. You plated the dinner table, helped your mum with the dishes and washed them afterwards, now you waited in your seat for your father to arrive home from work.

You hear the door slide open, the sound of keys jiggling from the entrance. You sit straight in your seat, resembling a meerkat on its legs as you inspect the person who enters the kitchen. Your father walks in with his coat still slung over his shoulders, his briefcase slamming onto the kitchen counter while he sighs. "Hello, dad!" You greet him cheerfully, and he simply nods his head in your direction. Your mum rose from her seat to help him with his jacket and hat, but he just shrugs her off, and you notice both of their irritated moods.

Dinner was quiet - the sound of utenstils hitting each other and then being left on the plates filled the house. "y/n wanted to ask something." Your mum blurts out, wanting something to happen, being too awkward in this stale atmosphere. You see him look at you from the corner of your eye and he clears his thoat. "Really? What is it?" He asks, and you manage to utter the same statement from before. It takes a moment before you get a reply again, but he says, "I'll think about it." You pleaded with both your parents to let you change schools until they finally caved in with an extended sigh.

vi. YOU WALKED INTO THE FULL CLASSROOM feeling everyone's eyes glued on you, the feeling being vagualy familiar yet different. Some leaned over to their friend, whispering something, but as you saw them and they made eye contact with you, you wanted to shove yourself inside a locker. "Everyone, this new student ..." You zoned out her speaking until she placed her palm on your shoulder and asked you to intruduse yourself to everyone. "Hello, I am y/n l/n, and I really hope we can all be friendly," You said, and then walked over to the empty seat that the teacher pointed at.

As you take a seat, you take extra notice of your bench mate. Oh, how beautiful she was, her hair looked neat, her skin looked perfect and her eyes... You finally took a seat and did what everyone else did - copying what the teacher wrote. After class, you observed your schedule, confused by where to go. This school was big, and you were a new student who just joined, there was no way you could ask anyone else for help except the teachers, but the one in you room had already left. The girl from beside you tapped you on the shoulder and you turned your head curiously.

"Do you need any help?" She asked, and you nodded. "Help would be appreciated, thanks."

You spent the day with her, laughing and talking like never before. It was comforting to have someone like her beside you. At the end of school, she walked you outside of school and there you saw a group of other people gathered, and they waved in your direction. You turned to see your newly made friend, Yoona, waving back. Her pace quickened as she rushed over to the group, pulling you along by the sleeve of your uniform when she noticed you standing still.

It was a fairly small gang, but they still stared at you as you arrived. They all greeted each other, hugging and chatting till Yoona introduced you to the rest. Her voice sounding so smooth.

As she spoke, you noticed this guy. His hair was long and swept in waves, his eyes soft and brown filled with warmth and kidness. You learnt that his name was Jake from your friend's introduction. "Y/n, wanna come to karaoke with us?" She asked, and you shook your head. "Sorry Yoona, but I gotta head home now" you say, not wanting to interrupt the harmony established amongst the people. She nodded understandingly and let you go, waving her farewell.

On your way home you realised you had made a new friend. A real one at that, but thoughts of insecurities snaked its way into your mind. What if she was just being kind? To say that this could possibly be one of many occurrence was high, and the possibility that you'd fit in was low.

vii. YOU FOUND YOURSELF IN THE PARK with them. You've come to the realisation that a new start was exactly what you needed. Your feet swung you back and forth on the swing, hearing the laughter of everyone around you and feeling the warmth in your heart expand. You had gotten close to everyone, but Jake seemed to have a special place in your heart for some reason.

"Anyone wanna go to the arcade?" Someone called out, and everyone said yes, including you who never went along with them. On the way there, you walked along side Jake, chatting with him and joking. "So what made you change schools so suddenly." He questioned, and you shook your head with an awkward chuckle, "Nothing, I just wanted to." Jake had this friendly smirk on his face as he nudged his shoulder against yours, "you can't be serious. You probably had a lot of friends there." You had your eyes focused on the road as you tried to comply a decent reply. "I mean-" as you were about to answer, everyone had already arrived at the arcade. You found this to be the perfect escape.

Everyone rushed inside, being bombarded with games and bright lights. Almost immediately, you spotted the claw machines. You eyed it like it was candy. There were many plushies, but you really really wanted the bunny one. Jake who was close by saw the way your eyes lit up and approached you with his hands in his pocket. "If you beat me in any game, I'll get you that plushie." He says, and you turn to look up at, his lips being extremely close to your face. "Are you sure you wanna bet?" You asked and he nodded his head, "Go ahead, choose a game." You pointed at an air hockey board and Jake ushered you over there with his palm resting on your shoulder.

You played a couple of games, and you were determined to win. Jake, not so much. His eyes roamed everywhere except for the hockey puck, his eyes landed on your concentrated face a handful of times, observing your reaction to each goal. You easily won and rushed over to his side, cheering. Your smiles were contagious, and Jake laughed, exposing his pearly teeth. "You wanted that white bunny, right?" He asked, and you nodded. "You could get whichever one, really." He made his way to the machine, you standing beside him. Jake kissed his coin before inerting it into the machine. It took him many tries before he sighed and collected his calm once more. "You don't really need to continue, Jake." You tell him, but she shakes his head and stretches his arms and back. "I'll get it this time. I might need more luck though." You see him point at his cheek with a smug smile. "That's silly." You reply sarcastically and he pleads with you giving you the puppy eyes before caving in. You stand on your toes and quickly peck him on the cheek shyly. Your heart was pounding and you could feel your cheeks turn rosy at the act.

He winks at you once before turning to the machine with one last try. His focus is evident in his fierceful gaze and you also hope for him to win this time, mostly becuase you start to feel bad for all the coins he's lost.

While being consumed by your own thoughts, Jake celebrated his win. He turned around to hand you the bunny, but saw you spacing out. He snapped his fingers in you face and you shook you back into reality. You finally processed the fact that he had won after staring at the plush in his arms. Jake gently hands it to you and you take it with a smile. "Woah! Thank you so much!" You thank him over all the other people's conversations around you two.

The rest of the evening was spent with silent glances that held adoration between the two of you. and eventually, it was time to go home. You all gathered outside the arcade to wave each other off before going their separate ways.

You notice that Jake was taking the same way as you and you stopped in your tracks to let him catch up to you. "Do you also take this way?" You asked him. "Kind of, I actually wanted to walk you home." He rubbed the back of his neck before you two began walking again. "You could've told me before, you almost looked like a creep." Jake chuckled at your remark and said, "I would've, but I guess I got shy." with his thick accent seeping through.

The sound of crickets and owls hooting filled in the silence during the short walk to your front door step. "Thanks for walking me home, Jake." You say as you search for your keys in your purse. He was silent for a while as you unlocked your door. "Y/n, I have something to ask you." You turned to him curiously and arched an eyebrow. He was obviously nervous as you saw him fidgeting with his own fingers and clearing his throat over and over again to muster up the courage to ask,

viii. "WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME, Y/N?" It had totally slipped your mind that prom was soon. You stood there wide eyed at the question. "You're not joking with me right." You wonder if he's pranking you, but he shakes his head. "Why would I joke with a pretty girl like you." His tone sounds genuine, but you still can't shake this feeling of uncertainty. "There's many other people you could've asked, but instead you chose me." The identical feeling of hopelessness returned after finally being chased away. "Becuase I only want you. Y/n, please." It takes a while for you to open your mouth an reply, but you feel the cold sweat coat your hairline and seeing Jake's soft expression was not helping you to calm down.

"I need to think about it, sorry."

You take notice of how Jake's expression turns dark when you shut the door and lock it behind you. You rush up the stairs and sprint into your room, ignoring your mother's calls. The plushy you had gotten from Jake was thrown onto your bed as you hurry to look out the window, observing him walk away from you. To your surprise, you see him look back at your house. Hurriedly, you pull out a diary that you had hidden under your mattress and write about everything, it isn't until after you're done taking notes that you feel bad for Jake. How must he feel?

You take a look at the plush he gifted you, and groan at the dilemma.

ix. THE NEXT DAY at school you searched for Jake everywhere, but you never saw him. Your mood visibly worsened as the day had come to an end without seeing him once. Yoona took notice of this and decided to question you. "Is everything okay?" She asked you and you nodded your head with a hum. "Yoona, have you seen Jake today?" She shakes her head and pulls out her phone. "He sent me a text this morning that he wouldn't come today since he felt under the weather. Why?" "Nothing, just wondering." You quickly blubber, grabbing your stuff quickly. "Hey, what's the rush? Wait for me alright." You hear Yoona chuckle as she packs her stuff. You apologise and wait for her.

You two part ways at the split road with a hug, and you gradually start to jog your way to his place. You stand there on his door step, bag slung over your shoulder with your fingers twisting the hem of your skirt. "Is it too late to turn around?", you think you to yourself. You shake away these thoughts, and raise your curled up fist to knock, but to your surprise, Jake opened the door, his eyes looked equally as shocked as yours. "Uhm, so I wanted to talk to you." You utter, and see Jake sigh. "Sure, I'm going on a walk if you wanna follow along." You nod and walk behind him.

"So, I've been thinking." His interest perks, and he glances your way. "I'll go to prom with you, but I don't understand why me? I'm not pretty. I'm not that ....good." You voice comes out weak, and Jake stops walking. "Don't say that. Not only are you incredibly beautiful, but you're also so, so kind and caring." He approaches you, his hand gliding up your cheek. "Are you not angry at me?" You ask, trying to avoid his eyes. "Angry? At you? That's ridiculous." He scoffs playfully, and you finally get the courage to look him in the eyes. "I might've been slightly upset since I thought you rejected me, but i guess I have a date for prom!" He smiles brightly and you look at him awestruck. "Of course," you reply and kiss him on the cheek once again with your arms swung around his neck, and his arms instinctively wrap around your waist. "You make me so happy." He is smiling widely as he pecks your face with butterfly kisses.

TAGLIST :: @swaivy

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les4elliewilliams · 4 months ago

Text

❝SHE’S A MANEATER!❞

LOSER!ELLIE ﾒ MEAN!READER

❝OH-OH HERE SHE COMES WATCH OUT, GIRL, SHE’LL CHEW YOU UP!❞

ᝰ.ᐟ ⌞SUMMARY⌝﹕After bumping into you on her first day of college, Ellie spends the entire year captivated by you from a distance. You're everything she could never be—popular, wealthy, and effortlessly alluring, with a perfect, disgustingly rich family to match. Convinced she didn’t stand a chance, Ellie resigns herself to watching from the sidelines. But when her best friend Dina suggests they work at a public pool for the summer, Ellie agrees, hoping to save up some money. What she never expected was to find you there, commanding the space with a magnetic, dangerous charm that pulls her in. Now, Ellie’s summer is about to take a turn she never saw coming, and she’s about to find out just how close she can get to you before it all falls apart.

✶.ᐟ ⌞THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS⌝﹕ approx 16k words⨾ bullying⨾ cursing⨾ use of alcohol and drugs⨾ angst⨾ reader being a bitch for no reason⨾ 18+ CONTENT⨾ cunnilingus (𝑒!receiving)⨾ semi-public sex ig?? (in the bathroom of their workplace)⨾ coworker!ellie⨾ dom!reader⨾ fem!reader⨾ player!reader x loser!ellie⨾ slapping⨾ jealousy issues??⨾ overstimulation⨾ ellie squirting (yumm)⨾ lmk if i missed anything!

.ᐟ.ᐟ ⌞AUTHOR´S NOTE⌝﹕this series took me forever to finish and almost deleted it because i had no motivation:3 the whole thing was supposed to be a quick one shot but its too long for that, i fear. (around 40k words) so i decided im gonna split it in two and make a sequel (for those who care); proofread by @sapphichotmess (i love you sm)

#.ᐟ ⌞TAGLIST⌝﹕ @pick-me-up-im-scared @rew1nds @aouiaa [comment to be added!]

#.ᐟ ⌞CHAPTERS⌝ ↯

˗ˏˋ 𝕠𝕟𝕖 ⋆ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ⋆ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ˎˊ˗

palestine masterpost ⋆ read this ⋆ daily clicks

Summer 2023, Santa Barbara.

23th of June.

The first year of college felt like it dragged on forever, with endless lectures, assignments, and late-night cram sessions that blurred into one exhausting marathon. But then, as if in the blink of an eye, it was over. Ellie packed up her dorm room, said her goodbyes, and headed home with the promise of a long, lazy summer stretching out before her.

The auburnette was a quiet introvert with a love for solitary activities, ready to kick back and relax. She loved this time of year—the bright, sunny days and the chilly, star-filled nights. The beach was her favorite place to unwind, where she could lose herself in the soothing rhythm of the waves crashing against the ancient shores and the feel of the sand between her toes. She loved soaking up the sun, letting its warmth seep into her freckled skin, and staying up late with her friends playing video games, adrenaline-pumping matches that promised to take all their sleepiness away, their laughter echoing into the early hours of the morning—or until Joel woke up to her yelling at random kids online and told her to turn it off, threatening to take all her consoles away.

But as the days melted into weeks, a sense of restlessness began to creep in. The once comforting routine now felt monotonous, and Ellie found herself craving something different, suddenly feeling unproductive. The pressure to change her routine was mounting, especially with Joel’s words ringing in her ears. He was dead serious when he told her she needed to stop being a lazy ass and start doing something with her life. He claimed that, by her age, he had already tried almost every job under the sun and didn’t want to see her wasting her days away.

At first, Ellie brushed off Joel's comments, but they lingered in the back of her mind, gnawing at her. Then, Dina chimed in, convincing her to join her and Jesse as lifeguards at the local pool. The idea seemed laughable to Ellie. She couldn’t imagine herself in such a role—standing on the pool deck, whistle in hand, ready to dive in at a moment's notice. But with nothing else on her plate and a growing desire to be productive, Ellie decided to give it a shot.

What could possibly go wrong, after all?

What else did she have to do? Absolutely nothing. And she figured she could always quit if things were really that bad. No harm in trying, right?

With a mix of nervousness and excitement, the young girl signed up for the lifeguard training course. The first few days were grueling—learning CPR, mastering rescue techniques, and memorizing safety protocols. She quickly realized that she enjoyed the physical challenge and the sense of responsibility that came with the role. Plus, spending her days by the pool wasn’t too far off from her ideal summer.

After a week of rigorous training, Ellie had finally reached a level where she felt ready. However, her confidence faltered when she discovered you were also working there. Every time she beheld you, your ethereal and almost unreal presence left her breathless. Her heart raced wildly, and a lump formed in her throat that threatened to strangle her. She knew who you were but doubted you even knew she existed. You were stunning and popular, seemingly out of her league. She felt like a total loser, a nerd invisible to every girl on the planet, except for those weird and jerky dudes she couldn’t stand. Her feelings of inadequacy were overwhelming, and you sure made her question her own worth and existence.

She saw you every day on campus, a sprawling green space bustling with students. You were always walking around with your group, a bunch of stylish individuals who cared a lot about their appearances, invariably decked out in expensive clothes. You were part of that clique, but she always felt like you were different somehow. Maybe it was how you looked at her on the first day of college when she accidentally bumped into you and made all your books drop to the floor.

Ellie remembered that moment vividly. The campus, with its towering oak trees and vibrant flower beds, had been buzzing with the energy of new beginnings. She had been rushing to her next class, preoccupied with a million different thoughts when she collided with you. Your books scattered across the walkway, and she dropped to her knees, frantically trying to gather them up while mumbling apologies. Your friends' disdainful looks made her cheeks burn with humiliation, but your reaction was entirely different. You crouched down, your fingers brushing against hers as you both reached for the same book, and you gave her a smile that was kind and understanding.

She couldn’t help but replay the moment in her mind, wondering if it had meant as much to you as it had to her.

Jesse’s constant teasing didn’t help. He loved to remind her of her awkwardness, mimicking how she stumbled over her words and nearly fell on her face right in front of you.

And now, seeing you standing there, the auburnette felt that same nervous energy bubbling up again. Your red lifeguard uniform clung to your body like a second skin, making her heart perform a series of pathetic, acrobatic flips. She watched you from a distance, marveling at how effortlessly you moved, how you seemed to command attention without even trying. You were a natural leader, confident and composed, while Ellie felt like a bundle of nerves just trying to keep up. A small part of her that hoped she might get to know you better, to see if that smile you had given her on the first day was a glimpse of something more.

“Oh shiii- she works here too?” Ellie looked to her best friend Dina, her eyebrows raised in surprise as she observed your every move. You casually blowing your whistle at a group of kids playing fights with crumbs of bread stood out to her immediately, watching in fascination as you effortlessly kept the children in line.

“Yeah, ‘course she does.” Dina couldn't contain a small snort of laughter as she pulled on a vibrant red T-shirt over her red bikini, its vivacious color standing out against her tanned skin. “She does every year,” she shared, her voice tinged with a hint of amusement. But how could she know this when all she did was immerse herself in gaming, hanging out with friends, and getting high rather than seeking part-time work to earn extra cash like every other 18-year-old?

She also found it perplexing that a wealthy individual like you would even bother working in the first place; after all, from what she had heard, you always got whatever you asked for from your father. She guessed that the only possible reasons you might have been working were to become more independent or to seek out something to occupy your time.

“Oh.” Her rosy pink lips formed a perfect 'o' shape, her surprise evident in how they parted. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered loudly to her friend.

Dina's brow rose quizzically as she placed her hands on her hips. “Why, did you want to know?” Dina shot Ellie a doubtful look, the same disapproving glance she always gave her whenever Ellie expressed interest in a girl who ultimately turned out to be straight.

The redhead nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders, “No, but–” she was quick to cut her off before Ellie could come up with an excuse that wouldn't hold water. Her friend could read her like an open book, and she knew certainly what was going on just by witnessing the heart-shaped pupils of Ellie's eyes as they lingered on you from afar.

“–Nuh-uh. You’re just being a delusional lesbian again,” Dina called her out on it, and the freckled girl reacted almost dramatically, gasping at the brunette's accusation.

“Don’t give me that look,” she pointed a finger at Ellie, finger jabbing the air like a weapon of accusation. “You told me to stop you before you started falling for another straight girl, and that’s exactly what I’m doing right now. Calling you out on your shit.” Dina’s voice was firm and uncompromising, her words leaving no space for negotiation or debate. Her eyes, deep pools of golden-hued amber, narrowed into slits, fixed on her friend with a steely gaze. The young girl knew better than to argue with her best friend.

Deep down, Ellie knew Dina was right. Images of her previous “relationship” flashed through her mind—the heartbreak, the disappointment, the tears—all because some bi-curious girl had led her on, only to reject her in the end. Who was there to pick up the pieces and put her back together again? None other than Dina, of course. And Jesse, but he wasn’t that helpful.

The green-eyed girl crossed her arms over her chest and huffed in response, her frustration evident in her defensive body language. “But she smiled at me on the first day of college, remember? When I bumped into her and made her drop all her books?”

Dina rolled her eyes and let out a deep sigh, shaking her head in disbelief, she truly couldn’t believe how clueless and naive her best friend could be at times, or maybe she just pretended to be dumb as fuck; Dina wasn’t sure. “Ellie, she was just being nice. That doesn’t mean she’s into you.” frustration colored her voice.

A sigh left the redhead’s lips, her gaze trailing back to you, unable to keep her eyes from checking you out. Seeing you sent her thoughts astray, her heart racing as she studied your features once more. “I know, I know. But a girl can dream, right?”

“Yeah, dream away. Just don’t get your hopes up too high. We’ve got a job to do, so stop daydreaming about unattainable girls and go get changed.” The black-haired girl demanded, shifting her weight from foot to foot, her arms hanging by her sides.

Ellie nodded, trying to push aside her feelings of infatuation. She knew Dina was right, but it was hard to ignore the fluttering in her chest every time her hazel eyes landed on you.

The first day, Jesse showed the auburnette around, explaining all the rules she and everyone else had to follow—when to yell at people, when to blow the whistle, the regular stuff. Ellie wanted to talk to you, to introduce herself at the very least, considering you were colleagues now, but she didn’t have the guts.

How you walked around and carried yourself, it was almost as if you owned the place. You were so confident, and Ellie felt like a creep for not being able to ignore your presence. Her eyes naturally darted towards you, tracing every contour and inch of your exposed body, only covered by a red one-piece swimsuit. You looked like you were coming straight out of Baywatch, looking like every teenage boy’s dream... and hers, too.

She felt ashamed for not being any better than a man.

Ellie really tried to focus on what Jesse was saying, but her mind kept drifting back to you. She felt a mix of awe and frustration. How could someone be so effortlessly captivating? The way you moved, the way you interacted with everyone—it was like you belonged in a different league.

“Ellie, you with me?” Jesse’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” she stammered, feeling her cheeks heat up.

Jesse raised an eyebrow but continued. “Like I was saying, just remember to stay alert and don’t hesitate to step in if something looks off. We’ve got a good team here, so don’t worry.”

Ellie nodded, trying to absorb the information. She glanced at you again, noticing how you seemed completely at ease, chatting and laughing with the other lifeguards. The auburnette envied that ease, that confidence, something she seemed to lack. Ellie always felt out of place in moments like this. She tried not to be so shy and be more easygoing, but your presence felt almost intimidating. She couldn’t shake the feeling of inadequacy. You were so stunning, so composed, and she felt like a fucking loser in comparison.

24th of June.

Since she couldn’t bring herself to talk to you on the first day, Ellie tried again on the second, encouraged by Jesse’s comforting words, “Try not to look like a drooling loser when you talk to her,” He couldn't help but crack a smile at the almost imperceptible scoff she gave him in response. Her sun-kissed cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink, making her freckles look like tiny specks of stardust against a rosy sky. It was endearing how easy it was to tease her, and what Jesse found more endearing was how she couldn’t tear her attentive eyes away from you, tracking your every move like a hawk eyeing its next meal or an art connoisseur fixated on a masterpiece—almost as if you were the center of her universe, a celestial body she could orbit but never touch.

He knocked his shoulder into hers, sending her stumbling awkwardly and bursting her fragile soap bubble, scattering her thoughts into a chaotic mess. Startled and momentarily yanked out of her little barrier of daydreams and delusions, she mumbled defensively under her breath, “I’m not a loser.” Before she could gather herself, he was already striding away, heading toward a group of kids running around the pool, corralling them like a shepherd with a sharp blow of his whistle.

Her ivy-hued irises followed him for a moment before drifting back to you. You were conversing with an older woman, a beaming smile adorning your face as you nodded at her words every now and then; your hair framed your immaculate features in such a way that Ellie wanted to capture that moment forever. Something about your effortless beauty captivated her; you were so perfect that it made her wonder if you could possibly be real. Could you be just the result of her wild imagination? Possibly, yeah.

Ellie just lingered in the background, waiting patiently for an opportunity to approach you without interrupting your conversation. She had been acting busy, meticulously inspecting the pool to make sure everyone was following the rules, but her eyes kept drifting back to you. She couldn’t help it. When she observed you walking towards a plastic chair, sensing her chance, she mustered up her courage and approached you.

Don’t be a pussy, don’t be a pussy. Ellie repeated the words to herself like a mantra.

Her heart raced wildly as she walked towards you, her mind a whirl of anxious thoughts. What if she stumbled over her words?

With every step she took, the knots in her stomach grew tighter and tighter.

She kept debating with herself, inching closer and closer to you. Honestly, the thought of talking to you was unbearable. She knew she’d end up looking like a fool. Why was she even trying to get your attention? Wait, was that really her intention? Was she actually planning to make you like her? She huffed at her desperation.

Maybe she could just turn back and pretend you weren’t there. Like she didn’t see you every day at work.

As she continued her internal argument, your voice suddenly snapped her back to reality.

“Hey, you’re the new girl,” You exclaimed, taking a confident step toward the freckle-faced girl. She swore she could almost see the confidence pouring out of your every pore, her heart pounding wildly in her chest and palms becoming disgustingly clammy as her cheeks flushed, the relentless sun only making it worse. Being so close to you, Ellie noticed how each strand of your hair swayed with the gentle summer breeze that had decided to bless them on the disturbingly hot summer day.

There was no fucking way you noticed her, no fucking way you were talking to her right now. Ellie forced out a dry, awkward chuckle, “Y-yeah. Think that’s me,” she stumbled over her words, giving you a half-crooked smile, her eyes darting around nervously, avoiding direct eye contact. She felt ridiculous for not being able to maintain steady eye contact. Why did she have to be so embarrassing? Why was talking to pretty girls so fucking hard?

“Yeah,” you responded with a steady tone, in stark contrast to her shaky and almost timid voice. Your gaze shamelessly roamed over every inch of her, taking in every detail from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. A barely audible hum escaped your lips, “Ellen, right?” you inquired, your eyes locking briefly before the aubrunette looked away again.

“Ellie,” she corrected you shyly, her slender fingers absentmindedly tracing delicate patterns on the back of her neck.

“Why, what did I say?” you questioned nonchalantly, still studying her. She felt small and insignificant under your scrutinizing gaze, almost judged. All of a sudden, she felt so self-conscious about her looks.

“Nothing,” she mumbled, snorting quietly. Uncertain of what to do next and feeling almost scared of contradicting you, she hesitantly reached out her hand toward you. Your inquisitive eyes locked onto her veiny hand, studying it for a few moments before finally shaking it. “Nice to meet you.”

Starstruck eyes stared right back at yours, and a wide grin that never left her face. She felt a rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins as she held your hand, letting it linger a bit longer than necessary, though too lost in a world of her own to notice. After a whole semester pining over you on campus, watching you from afar like a Joel Goldberg, she finally found herself face-to-face with you, engaged in a real conversation. She had been waiting for this moment for a lifetime, almost, feeling truly seen and known by you for the very first time.

A slow smile crept across your face, and your gaze dropped down to her hand, which was still firmly attached to yours in a stubborn grip like a tenacious octopus refusing to let go. “Don’t get attached,” Your jest had a confident, almost boastful tone, causing her heart to skip a beat.

Were you making fun of her? Was she making a fool of herself? Her mind quickly became consumed by overthinking. It was absurd; how could she draw such strong conclusions after just two minutes of conversation with you? Three minutes was enough to send her thoughts into a tempestuous cyclone, their rhythm erratic and tumultuous. She told herself that she was simply overthinking, but sometimes, it's easy to mistake intuition for overthinking.

The nervous girl forced out a strained, strangled chuckle, “I’ll try not to,” she said, attempting to match your casual tone, even though her heart was still racing.

You laughed softly, a sound that seemed to echo in her mind long after you walked away. Ellie stood there for a moment, trying to steady her breath and slow down her chaotic thoughts. Her eyes darted towards Dina, who stood nearby with a smirk on her face, arms crossed over her chest and leaning nonchalantly against the bar wall. Her long, dark brown hair was tied up in a high, sleek ponytail, and she casually chewed on a piece of gum, observing the entire encounter with a mixture of amusement and appraisal.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dina teased her friend, walking over to her.

Ellie rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, sure. Piece of cake,” she muttered, though the adrenaline still coursed through her veins.

As the day continued, Ellie found herself glancing at you more often than she’d like to admit. Each time she saw you, she felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. She couldn’t shake the gut feeling that this summer was going to be different.

28th of June.

Ellie sighed in relief as she sought refuge under the closest patch of shade she could find. The scorching sun was relentless, turning her into a messy canvas for glistening beads of sweat to trickle down her dotted face and back. The air felt heavy and stagnant, intensifying the already stifling heat. It seemed like the sun had a personal vendetta against her today, making every little thing feel ten times more irritating.

Like you, for example.

Being around you was a source of never-ending irritation for her, and she despised the fact that she had to share the same airspace with you. It was an injustice in her eyes, how your stunning good looks did not reflect your unpleasant personality. How could looks be so fucking deceiving? Ellie had no clue, all she knew was that she fell for it. Every. Single. Time.

The fury inside her was like an uncontrollable wildfire as she aggressively scribbled over your name with her pen in her journal. If only it were that easy to erase you completely, to make you vanish as if you had never existed. Feeling completely dumb for even remotely thinking that you could be any different from the people you hung out with. Every time she had to interact with you, the only thoughts echoing in her mind were Dina's warning words.

Dina was right.

But Ellie would never say it out loud only to get an “I told you” back.

Everyone had warned her about you—they all knew the truth about your character, yet she found herself stubbornly holding onto the belief that there was something more to you than just the surface-level impression. If she were to add your name to a list of defining terms, it would undoubtedly be accompanied by words like “evil,”“spoiled,” or even the simplest yet most descriptive term, “brat.”

Working with you was a constant nightmare; even being in the same vicinity as you felt like torturous purgatory. You seemed incapable of restraining yourself, constantly throwing witty, biting remarks to the anxious girl, even when she hadn't provoked you in any way. It perplexed her—why did you take such pleasure in taunting her? It was as if the world itself would implode if you didn’t pick on her despite the seemingly nonexistent reasons behind your hostility. She often found herself rambling about you to her friends. This time, though, not in a good way.

Talking to you felt like a return to the nightmarish experience that was middle school, a trip down memory lane that brought back memories she had worked so hard to forget. The bullying she had endured during that period had left a lasting impact on her, and your presence seemed to trigger something in her. It was for that exact reason that she tried her best to keep any interactions with you brief, limited to the bare essentials.

She watched as you sprang from your seat, sprinting after the kids, yelling at them, the shrill sound of your annoying whistle piercing the air. Threats flew from your mouth, aimed at their misbehavior and disruption of the pool’s tranquility. The best part? No one seemed to care about your passive-aggressive attitude because, let’s face it, you were just doing your job, and you were pretty damn good at it—pretty damn good at scaring people.

Ellie’s eyes took in the kids' terrified faces as they looked up at you, wide-eyed and quivering, but you didn’t care. Their fear didn’t stop you from messing with their childish, naive minds. Their innocence was like a delicate flower, easily manipulated. If Ellie claimed she didn't find it amusing, her nose would’ve grown like Pinocchio’s. It was almost comical how easily you maintained order, seemingly without effort. You possessed a natural inclination for control, a characteristic that could be a strength or a flaw, depending on one's perspective.

“You know what happens if you run on a wet floor? You slip and hit your head,” you barked, hands firmly planted on your hips. “Is that what you two little gremlins want? To end up in a hospital with a cracked skull?” The kids darted off to their mothers, who were too engrossed in their own conversations to notice. You scoffed, watching them scamper away like puppies with their tails between their legs. Crossing your arms over your red bikini top, you muttered, “That’s what I thought,” a smirk curling your lips. It was almost as if you derived some twisted satisfaction from seeing others—especially kids—tremble in fear. There was an ever-present sadistic delight in your eyes whenever someone dared to cross your path, a blend of authority and mischief that made you the unchallenged queen of the poolside.

Ellie only ever saw a warm smile on your face when you were talking to the moms of the kids you had scared away in such a devilish manner. You transformed around them, becoming overly sugary-sweet, showering them with compliments and shooting wide grins their way. Your demeanor softened, offering them drinks as if you were hosting a garden party instead of working at a public pool.

The redhead scoffed as she tried to decipher your persona. You were a walking contradiction, a goddess clad in a red bikini. One moment, you were a menacing warden, barking orders and traumatizing kids; the next, you were a social butterfly, all warm smiles and saccharine charm with their moms. So fucking weird.

Ellie didn’t expect you to notice her presence not so far behind you, but nothing ever seemed to escape your attention. You were like a hawk, sharply observant, contrasting your superficial personality. Then again, maybe it was all an act you were putting on. Ellie marveled at the paradox of your nature—how you seemed so frivolous and charming on the surface yet were always acutely aware of everything happening around you. It was as if you had a second set of eyes hidden behind your back, always watching, always calculating, leaving her to wonder what was real and what was merely a façade.

“What? Got something to say?” Your voice was anything but friendly, ready to spark an argument over nothing. Your arched brows seemed to challenge her, daring her to complain or speak her mind in any way.

Maybe she should just drop it before you could escalate things. Ellie wasn't in the mood for meaningless bickering, especially not under the blazing sun, sweating like a cow.

But sometimes, her body loved to betray her.

“That was just a little bit harsh, is all,” the words slipped out before she could stop them, only realizing she'd spoken aloud when your expression shifted to a mocking smirk.

“Pardon?” You challanged, daring her to continue. She knew you had heard her perfectly; if you had caught her scoff a few seconds ago, there was no way you missed her comment now. The awkward girl knew what you were doing—trying to make her feel small and stupid for speaking up.

She couldn't back down now.

Ellie gulped, nerves tightening in her stomach, but stood her ground. “It’s just... they’re kids, you know?” Her voice wavered slightly, but she held your gaze, determined not to let you intimidate her.

“And?” You looked at her like she was exaggerating, as if she had been the one yelling at kids for having fun, threatening to call the police on them, or telling them she'd hijack their Christmas gifts from Santa and sell them on the black market.

Ellie knew there was no point in arguing or trying to tell you off, so she shook her head slowly, her eyes glued to the wet mosaic tiles. An airy chuckle escaped her lips as she replied, “Nothing.”

But of course, you didn’t drop it. “We gotta make sure people—especially kids—don’t get hurt, and if you don’t yell at them, they’re just going to keep doing it—that’s how kids are,” you justify your actions without a hint of remorse in your voice or on your face. The freckled girl knew you were right, but she tended to be softer with kids.

Ellie loved kids and swore nothing was better than being young, carefree, and without worries beyond your favorite toys and your best friend. Sometimes, she missed being a kid, even if she still felt like one deep down. Perhaps the fact that Joel kept treating her like one didn’t help. Always spamming her with texts, asking if she had eaten when she wasn’t home, staying out all day. Asking her a thousand questions at a time, enough to make her brain short-circuit.

“You terrified them!” Ellie exclaimed, though an involuntary laugh slipped out with her words, causing you to smirk ever so slightly.

“Oh, sorry, Eleonor,” you taunted, deliberately getting her name wrong as you stepped closer. “How ‘bout you teach me your ways?” Sarcasm dripped from your voice as your eyes locked with hers. For once, the green-eyed girl managed not to look away; your eyes were so animated and clever, like a fox's gaze, giving off the impression that you were always one step ahead and knew more than you let on.

Ellie’s expression dropped as soon as ‘her’ name rolled off your tongue. You were trying to get under her skin, as always, and despite it being something so insignificant, it worked wonders. The fact that you were invading her personal space didn't help either. “It’s Ellie,” she puffed.

“Oh, I thought it was short for Eleonor,” you said mockingly.

“Nope, just Ellie—’s not short for anything,” she replied, her tone tinged with annoyance, causing you to grin like the Cheshire cat. God, if you loved getting her worked up, having her wrapped around your finger, and messing with her mood so easily. It was endearing, truly.

“Hmm… dunno, I like Eleonor better, though,” you insisted with a cheeky grin. Your voice took on a more sultry tone. Or had she imagined it? Maybe she had.

Ellie had heard that being under the sun for too long could cause hallucinations and general sickness, and she was already sweating like crazy. That was her explanation, because why in the world would you ever try to flirt with her?

“Well, ‘s not my name,” she insisted.

The tanned girl’s chest expanded as her breath caught in her throat as you drew nearer with each passing moment. You inched so close that she could almost discern the individual strands of your eyelashes that cast shadows on her cheeks, the way your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Your intense gaze, focused and persistent, traced the contours of her cheeks.

Entranced, Ellie found her emerald eyes involuntarily drawn to your lips, merely inches away from hers. Unconsciously, she moistened her own lips, utterly captivated as she absorbed every pore and mole on your skin, revering every aspect of your being, whether flaw or perfection, with unwavering devotion in her mind. You were insanely beautiful; it was almost unfair.

You extended your hand to cup her cheek gently, your thumb dragging across her cheekbone, spreading the sunscreen she had hastily applied in the morning. Ellie instinctively flinched at the unexpected contact. “You can't even apply sunscreen correctly,” you sneered, your voice dripping with mockery, before abruptly withdrawing and turning on your heel, leaving her standing there completely bewildered and disoriented.

What the fuck?

She spotted her dear best friend Dina, and Ellie ran up to her, eager to spill everything that had happened. A weird frustration churned inside her, a knot in her stomach that seemed to tighten as she rambled on and on about how obnoxious you were. She was down bad and wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Like- what the hell is her pro—” but Dina had enough.

“Jesus, get a grip, Ellie! Can’t you see I’m busy? You don’t get paid to act like a schoolgirl,” Dina groaned deeply, her manicured hands moving swiftly as she folded the pastel-colored towels, her eyes glued to her agitated friend. The cinnamon-haired girl had been caught in a continuous rant for the last 30 minutes, carelessly stumbling into Dina and disrupting her work as she paced around in a flustered manner.

Ellie groaned deeply in return, almost indignant at Dina’s reaction. How could she brush her off like this instead of offering comfort and reassuring words? Isn’t that what friends are supposed to do? Well, she had been, but at some point, the brunette grew tired of repeating herself over and over.

“I just don’t understand!” Ellie exclaimed furiously, her voice raising just enough to draw the attention of a few people sitting on the pool’s edge. To top it off, when she gestured, her hands knocked into the drinks Jesse was carrying as he approached the two girls from behind. Luckily, the cups were plastic, but the tray was thicker, causing a disturbing noise as it clattered on the mosaic. Ellie’s verdant emeralds widened, and she whipped around, cursing under her breath, “Shit, Jesse!”

She mumbled a flurry of apologies to the taller guy as she crouched down to help with the mess she had inadvertently caused. Her bare knees pressed against the cool, wet mosaic as her hands quickly gathered the plastic cups, stacking them one by one. As she fumbled to collect the scattered paper umbrellas, now lying crumpled on the moist floor, she placed them back on the tray, her movements slightly clumsy. Her chest tightened with embarrassment at the scene she had created.

“The fuck’s going on with you, man?” Jesse’s eyes scanned her face, confused.

“Her little girlfriend! That’s what happened,” his girlfriend exclaimed, completely fed up.

“Oh my god, Dina!” Ellie groaned, exasperated.

Jesse, being his usual self, furrowed his unplucked brows together. A quizzical expression took over his features, “You got a girlfriend?” he asked, bewildered, which seemed to throw Dina off even more, the confusion in his voice only adding fuel to the fire.

The brunette shook her head, facepalming herself with an exasperated sigh. “I’m done,” she declared before walking away from the two, leaving them staring after her. She had been acting a little lunatic the whole day; maybe she was on her period. Ellie didn’t know. Or maybe it was because she had clumsily dropped Dina’s phone into the pool exactly three hours ago, the same phone she had worked so hard to get because her old one was falling apart like the Pisa tower. But hey, it was still working!

“Who? Cat?” the taller boy suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them. He redirected his attention back to his friend, and for a moment, all she could do was scoff. She couldn't believe he had actually brought up a girl she dated over three years ago.

Ellie looked at him in disbelief, her heart-shaped lips slightly agape as if she was about to say something, ready to go off on him, but decided against it at the last moment. ‘Typical Jesse,’ she thought to herself. He knew everything because he always hung out with them, and if he didn’t, his girlfriend made sure to keep him in the loop. Plus, Ellie had a habit of rambling about every girl who kept her up at night, so it was impossible to miss or forget. But that's just how Jesse was—blissfully oblivious and fucking clueless.

Ellie shook her head and sighed deeply before walking off as well.

“Why? What did I say?” He called out after her, his voice raised just enough to catch her attention. He watched as she stalked away, her irritation clear in the way she carried herself. He was left standing there, looking lost and utterly baffled, with a plastic tray in his hand.

30th of June.

It wasn’t long until another girl joined the team. Ellie was now responsible for introducing the new member and orienting her to the job. She meticulously explained all the rules and how everything worked, ensuring the new girl was well-prepared and well-trained for the job. Otherwise, you’d be on her ass about it, blaming the auburnette for any mistakes, just like you normally did.

Ellie was initially hesitant, nervously stumbling over her words and avoiding the girl’s Lapis lazuli gaze. However, as time passed, she began to feel more at ease in the blonde's presence. Alexis exuded sweetness and was undeniably beautiful. They found their usual spot by the lifeguard station, sitting side by side and engaging in conversations that meandered through various topics. As they talked, their gazes wandered idly across the bustling pools, and a gentle breeze enveloped them, offering a pleasant sensation on their sun-warmed skin.

The weather was perfect. The gentle breeze kept the air just the right temperature, and the sunshine was warm without being too intense. Fluffy white clouds floated by, offering a welcome break from the direct sunlight. Their billowing forms shielded the freckled girl from the harsh rays that might otherwise have left her fair skin burnt and uncomfortable.

She had not set out intending to forge new friendships that summer. Although It felt too soon to label Alexis as a friend, she didn’t mind the possibility of meeting new people. Though she treasured her current friends, there were times when she craved the fresh energy that came with forming new connections. She recognized that stepping out of her comfort zone and meeting new faces could bring a welcome change, and she needed to ‘expand her social horizons’—Joel’s words.

However, you didn’t waste a second. You quickly disrupted Ellie’s fleeting moment of peace, shouting her name loudly and incessantly. Initially, she tried to ignore you, hoping you would give up and leave her be. But you persisted, standing by the bar, leaning against the counter, and chanting her name. When she feigned deafness, you resorted to using your trusty megaphone, the latest object of your obsession, employing it for seemingly every trivial matter.

"Eleanor Williams!”

She closed her eyes and cringed inwardly as her cheeks flushed a bright pink, embarrassed by the unwanted attention she was receiving from the onlookers around her. Their confused glances only added to her discomfort, making her wish for the ground to swallow her up on the spot.

Why did you have to be like this? She stopped asking herself that at some point.

Alexis furrowed her perfectly arched brows, her crystal blue eyes filled with puzzlement as she gazed at Ellie. Her head tilted gracefully to the side, highlighting her confusion as she asked, “Who’s Eleanor?”

“It’s me.” Ellie let out a heavy sigh, slowly rising from her pristine plastic chair, her gaze shifting downwards to the small, delicate figure of the girl before her, muttering, “Be right back,”

She strode cautiously towards you, avoiding eye contact with everyone looking at her. Every step she took brought her closer to you, but your relentless shouting through the megaphone continued unabated.

“How many times do I have to shout your name?” You stood with an air of drama, waving your hands in sweeping arcs above you. Your body swayed gently as you shifted your weight to one foot, and your free hand found its place resting comfortably on your hip.

“Once was enough,” Ellie replied flatly. The tension in her expression hinted at the internal dialogue she had engaged in as if she had carefully composed herself, steeling her mind and heart for whatever was coming.

“The fuck are you doing?” You stood there, gazing blankly at her. A hand rested on your left hip, mirroring the other hand on your right hip. The white megaphone was wedged against your side, the loose laces of the bottom of your bikini swaying gently in the breeze.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you just sitting there doing absolutely nothing?” you demanded, cutting her off as she tried to reply. “See those ladies over there? They ordered four diet cokes.”

“And?” She pressed her lips together, her eyebrows furrowing as she stared at you, confused.

“So get them their drinks—Gosh! Are you, like, stupid?” You exclaimed with annoyance, the frustration evident in your voice. Ellie’s brows, marked with scars, furrowed as she prepared to engage in a heated argument. “You… drinks… ladies over there… diet coke. Understand?” With a slow and exaggerated mocking tone, as if talking to an alien from outer space.

Ellie’s veiny arms were tightly crossed over her vibrant red t-shirt, creating a striking contrast against her fair skin. A look of determination furrowed her brow, her cheeks flushing as red as a ripe tomato, betraying her attempt to maintain composure and not cause any scene. “I’m a lifeguard,” she reminded you.

You couldn't help but stifle a dry chuckle as the corners of your lips curled up into a smile at her statement, practically laughing in her face. Stepping closer to her, you couldn't contain your amusement, “Look,” you said with a grin, your eyes fixated on the pool. The vibrant scene unfolded before you—children playing and swimming while adults engaged in animated conversations.

Ellie turned around, following your gaze, and then turned her face back to yours, clearly not comprehending what you were referring to. “Look at what?” She found herself unable to resist the urge to question you again, the slight edge of irritation creeping into her voice, her patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

“Exactly—no one’s drowning.” You pointed to the lively pool, the laughter and chatter filling the air. Her gaze remained fixed on the scene before her, and her peripheral vision tracked you as you leaned in close to her. Your warm breath tickled the side of her neck, and she involuntarily shivered at the sensation. The auburnette froze in place, feeling your face mere inches away from her ear, “You’re not just a lifeguard. You’re whatever I want you to be,” you said, your voice a sinister hiss in her ear, each word dripping with venomous mockery. The corners of your mouth curled upwards into a prideful grin, your eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction as you reveled in your power over her. She fought the urge to wipe that irritating expression off your stupid face. You were extremely gorgeous but so insanely maddening at the same time.

She clenched her jaw in frustration, her gaze following you as you sauntered away to talk to an older woman who was a regular at the pool with her child. Her self-admonishment grew when she caught herself checking you out, her eyes taking in the softness of your thighs, hips, and the inviting roundness of your ass. She hated herself even more for her body’s instinctive reaction to such a vision, a mixture of conflicting emotions coursing through her.

4th Of July.

The day was oppressively hot, and the pool was more crowded than usual, adding to the chaos. Ellie constantly moved back and forth, attending to tasks she had not anticipated having to do. When she applied for the job, she had envisioned a laid-back role where she could relax, sit on her ass and move only when necessary. Cause the chances of anyone drowning in a pool were very low, let’s be realistic. Instead, you proved her wrong, forcing trusting her with responsibilities that didn’t belong on her shoulders.

What truly frustrated her was how you remained still, doing absolutely nothing, while constantly barking orders and yelling at everyone around you. It drove the green-eyed girl crazy to witness how effortlessly you directed others without lifting a finger yourself.

Ellie collected the empty beer cans two men had left on the black countertop, wiping sweat from her forehead with her other arm, baby hairs sticking to her damp skin. She couldn’t help but scoff as she observed you from a distance. You were near the pool, lounging casually on a towel with your arms propping you up behind your back, engaged in animated conversation with your friends. You giggled loudly every now and then, amused by the hurtful comments your friends made about people who remained blissfully unaware of their disdainful stares.

Judgmental snakes that acted as if no one could measure up to or surpass them. It absolutely infuriated her. She loathed how you and those kids seemed to effortlessly receive everything you desired on a silver platter, while average people like her had to labor relentlessly for anything she hoped to achieve in her life.

It wasn't actually the wealth itself that angered her; rather, it was the blatant arrogance and smugness you all displayed, as if being wealthy automatically made you superior individuals with no moral values or empathy for anyone else.

Nevertheless, you had stunned her with your choice of attire that day—a two-piece bikini that revealed your captivating figure. Despite feeling frustrated that she couldn't catch a break while you lounged around doing nothing, she couldn't help but admire your otherworldly physique. Yet, it was wrong to feel that way about a piece of shit like you.

“Glad someone’s keeping her busy,” Alexis’ voice acted like an invisible tug on Ellie's sleeve, pulling her back from her thoughts. The freckled girl shook her head as if trying to clear her mind and curiously responded with a quiet “hm?”

“Too busy shit-talking with her friends to be up our ass,” The honey-haired girl carefully adjusted her hair, tucking a stray piece of golden hair behind her pierced ear. Ellie couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the girl’s remark, responding with a warm smile and a subtle bob of her head.

“Right? I don’t understand how they haven’t kicked her out yet; she does nothing all day!” she complained as the blonde behind the countertop meticulously cleaned up the spill on the sleek black marble surface, casting a quizzical gaze in her direction.

“Kick who out?”

“Her.” Ellie leaned her forearms on the countertop, her gaze locked onto her blue ones.

Alexis let out a scoff and gave her a look “Why would her father kick her out?” Ellie’s eyes widened in surprise, her voice strangled as she almost choked on the air she was breathing. The incredulity in her expression was palpable, a clear indication that she had no fucking clue.

“What’d you say?” She questioned tentatively, inwardly hoping that her ears were merely playing tricks on her. The disbelief in her voice was evident as she tried to make sense of the shocking revelation she had just heard.

“She owns this place—you didn’t know?” Alexis asked in disbelief, speaking as if the information were common knowledge, which made it all the more surprising that Ellie was unaware of it.

But given your wealthy background and how you carried yourself, it suddenly made perfect sense. Everything fell into place. Your commanding presence wasn't just a show of authority—you actually owned this entire establishment. You weren't striving to save money for some personal goal as Ellie had assumed; rather, you were here because your family had ownership over the pool, the spa nearby, and every other facility in this area.

“Dude, I had no fucking clue,” she uttered, flabbergasted, her emerald green eyes darting in your direction as a gentle breeze played with the soft, auburn strands of her hair, tickling her face.

The freckled girl observed the scene unfolding before her, her eyes fixed on the tall, muscular guy approaching your small group, a golden retriever trotting loyally at his side. Despite his sunglasses, she could sense his gaze fixated on you, and when you stood up to greet him, she watched your lips move but couldn't discern any words. Her thoughts were interrupted by Alexis's rambling, but her attention quickly shifted back to you as the guy started to engage in conversation with you, her stomach twisting in a strange flutter of unease.

“Are dogs even allowed in here?” was the first thing Ellie grumbled, her irritation evident as she interrupted her friend's rambling monologue. It was clear that she wasn't really paying attention to what was being said, her mind preoccupied with other thoughts.

“Pshh—when I wanted to bring my dog in here, she said I couldn't.” Alexis huffed, passing a popsicle to the young boy who had approached and requested it. A small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth before storming off with his little brother. “Had to leave my Nana home with-” But Ellie wasn't having it. She was already storming towards you, her green eyes flashing with anger and determination. You had alwas doled out rules yet seemed to disregard them yourself. She didn't care if you owned the place and had the authority to do as you pleased. As far as she was concerned, you needed to adhere to the standards you had set, and she was determined to make that happen… and she wanted that guy gone.

Your two friends remained laid out on their towels, one sipping on a cocktail and the other engaged in a gossip session, their conversation marked by animated gestures. However, as Ellie approached, they immediately took notice. This time, she paid no mind to their gazes, instead stomping up to stand just behind you, her arms crossed in a defensive stance. Meanwhile, you were oblivious to her presence, completely unaware of her lurking behind you.

You knelt down to give the guy's dog some attention, running your fingers through its soft fur and scratching behind its ears. You continued to pet the dog, a sweet smile gracing your lips, “Such a cute fuckin’ dog, aren’t ya?” Ellie listened as you let out a low chuckle, your voice dropping into a silly tone as you spoke to the dog. The pup seemed to perk up at your voice, tilting her head slightly to the side as you found the sweet spot behind her ear, causing her to lean into your touch and let out a soft whine. “Like owner, like dog.” You looked up at the guy, your voice taking on a more flirtatious tone than Ellie had ever heard you use before. Your eyes sparkled with a hint of innocence as you slowly stood back up.

The sleazy guy chuckled, a gravelly sound that echoed into Ellie's ears, threatening to make them bleed. It was incredible how, with just a hint of attention, you made him feel like he'd struck gold in a barren desert. You barely gave him the time of day, but that sliver of acknowledgment had him grinning like he’d just hit the jackpot.

The boy’s eyes were glued to your chest, drooling over your perfect goddamn tits as if he'd discovered a hidden treasure in the most unexpected place. You were a twisted goddess of fortune, and he was more than happy to worship, soaking up every precious moment with a grin that said he’d do anything to stay in this heavenly hell. But all you needed was his weed, and while he was fantasizing about you, you were already thinking of dumping his ass when you didn't need him anymore.

“What’s her name?” You flashed him a charming smile as you spoke, tilting your head slightly to one side as you looked up at him with a coy expression.

“Nelly,” He replied, pulling up his sunglasses, his brown eyes devouring every curve of your body without a hint of shame. He was eye-fucking you like it was just another day, and Ellie felt the bile rise in her throat. Men never ceased to amaze her; they were all disgusting, perverted assholes hiding behind a thin veil of chill and manners. What pissed her off even more was that you were letting it happen. You were into it. You reveled in the attention, loving every second of being liked, as if his filthy gaze was some kind of twisted validation.

Was that what you needed? Validation?

Ellie decided to chime in, clearing her throat loudly. Your head snapped her way, surprise lighting up your sun-kissed features. Your carefully styled hair tumbling down your back—just one of the many things about you that baffled her. Why the hell would you spend time styling your hair every morning just to go to the pool? The heat and sweat would mess it up anyway. It was like trying to keep a snowman from melting in a sauna, completely pointless, but somehow, you did it every damn day.

“Dogs aren’t allowed.” The aburnette firmly stated, her words hanging in the air, drawing confused looks from you and the guy as if she were speaking a different language. But Ellie didn’t give a damn; she was just doing her job. Her mission was to keep everyone in line, making sure the rules were followed to the letter. That’s what your daddy was paying her for, right?

You quickly brushed off her statement, returning your attention to the guy before you. “Nelly, huh?” you questioned with a wide smile, your eyes flicking to the dog patiently sitting at her owner’s feet. Her golden fur gleamed under the sunlight, her eyes a beautiful honey color.

Ellie didn’t have anything against the dog; she loved dogs and had always wanted one. But that dude needed to fuck off. She couldn’t even put her finger on why she felt this way, so irritated and annoyed, like an itch she couldn’t scratch. The sight of you flirting with that douchebag made her blood boil, leaving her wondering why it all pissed her off so much.

“Just like my friend here.” You suddenly exclaimed, your fake, cheerful voice, cutting through the tense atmosphere and snapping Ellie out of her turbulent thoughts.

“My name’s not—” she began, but you shut her off, waving a dismissive hand in her direction.

“Yeah, yeah. Nelly, Ellie… same thing,” you scoffed, your eyes still locked on the guy by the pool. “So I was saying…” Your voice dropped to a sultry whisper as you bit your lip, scanning him up and down, fingers gently tracing the contours of his strong arm. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, eyes shamelessly glued to your cleavage, never quite making it to your face.

“Dogs aren’t—” Ellie tried again, her voice a persistent drone in the background.

“Don’t forget my stuff,” you whispered in his ear. You batted your lashes at him as you pulled back, your gaze locking with his. Ellie’s disgusted glare darted between you and him, her lips pressed into a tight line.

“I won’t. See you later?”

“Hmm-hmm. See you later, handsome.” Your voice was honey-sweet, dripping with fake affection, and the guy seemed utterly spellbound, his eyes never straying from your body.

Ellie huffed loudly, the sound almost lost in the noise of the poolside chatter, and you turned to face her, annoyance flashing across your features. You reached for the expensive sunglasses dangling from your bikini top and slid them on with practiced ease.

“Jesus, Ellen, got nothing better to do?” you grumbled, your tone laced with irritation and disdain.

“Dogs aren’t allowed,” Ellie repeated, her voice steady but tinged with frustration. She stood there, arms crossed, an immovable wall of resolve.

“Are you done? Because you’re starting to behave like a bot. Maybe hanging out with Alexa over there is rubbing off on you,” you sneered, turning your back on her with a dismissive wave. You strolled back to your friends, who were whispering among themselves, their eyes darting towards Ellie with thinly veiled amusement.

She turned away, ready to resume her duties, but your voice, dripping with venom, sliced through her ears.

“Have you seen her?” one of your friends giggled, their voice a conspiratorial whisper.

“She’s so embarrassing, oh my god,” another chimed in, their laughter bubbling up like champagne.

“Embarrassing is an understatement,” you commented without missing a beat, your voice carrying a sharp edge.

Ellie could feel the sting of your words, each one like a tiny drop of acid, smoldering away her already fragile self-esteem. She knew your cruel comments spared no one, yet hurt still bloomed in her chest, a dull ache that refused to fade. You loosed a laugh, a sound that blended sweet melody with sinister intent, leaving her captivated and repulsed. The echoes of your laugh, mingled with the cruel whispers of your friends, reverberated in her mind, morphing into a haunting, chilling soundtrack to her nightmares as she made her way back to her busy friend behind the counter.

“How’d it go?” Alexis questioned, her voice tinged with genuine concern as she handed Ellie a cup of sweetened tea. The blonde girl's eyes roamed across Ellie's face, taking in the tense, almost pained expression that twisted her features, preparing herself for the worst.

“Amazing,” Ellie responded with a hefty helping of sarcasm, quickly downing the drink. She then slumped onto a stool at the bar, her elbows roughly digging into the cold, unyielding surface of the marble counter.

The shorter girl behind the bar chuckled softly, her laughter a soothing balm in the tense atmosphere. “You coming tonight?”

A look of perplexity etched on her face. The line marring her brow looked like a work of art that the blue-eyed friend couldn’t help but admire. “Coming where?”

“In your underwear—” Alexis deadpanned, before bursting into snorts of laughter at Ellie’s flushed cheeks, her reaction priceless. “To the party,” The silken strands of hair framing her face bounced as she spoke more seriously, her hands deftly collecting cups left by the sink, preparing to give them a proper wash.

“Party?”

“The whole staff is invited,” the blonde explained, her voice a melodic mix of excitement and mischief. “But no annoying kids around; The Bitch said we can use the pool.” Ellie couldn’t help but let out a small, crooked smile of her own at the name her friend had bestowed upon you. “You should come, Ellie. It’ll be fun,” Her voice was full of genuine enthusiasm as she scrubbed the cups with vigor, the water splashing slightly.

The redhead shrugged, still feeling the sting of your earlier words. “I don’t know, Lex. I’m not really in the mood.” Truth was that she didn’t want to spend a second more around you, especially outside work.

Alexis paused, her hands resting on the edge of the sink, eyes locking onto her friend’s. “Hey, don’t let her get to you. She’s just... Well, you know how she is. Come to the party, have some fun.”

She sighed again, the tension slowly easing from her shoulders. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

“Atta girl,” she grinned, resuming her task with renewed energy. “Trust me, you’ll feel better after a few drinks and a good swim.”

Ellie chuckled softly, the corners of her lips twitching upwards. Maybe Alexis was right. Maybe a night of fun was exactly what she needed to shake off the day’s negativity. The thought of the party, with its promise of laughter and freedom, was a small but welcome spark of light in the otherwise dark cloud of her thoughts. She sure as hell wasn’t going to let you ruin her day.

4th of July, The evening.

Ellie despised parties and loathed crowds even more, as they left her feeling left out and isolated in an unfamiliar environment. She longed to escape back to the comfort of her home, but that choice was unfortunately not an option for her tonight. The pale girl ended up giving in because of Dina and Alexis, who insisted so much that Ellie finally relented. She was almost physically dragged to the same pool where she worked, but this time for a different reason. It was to have fun and actually enjoy the pool, something she rarely did.

The pool was enormous, the kind that looked like only the wealthy could access, but luckily, it wasn’t expensive to spend a weekend there. The pool area was beautifully maintained, with lush greenery and elegant lounge chairs neatly arranged around the perimeter. It was a stark contrast to Ellie’s usual experience of scanning the water for trouble and scolding unruly kids.

She was almost happy to be there to enjoy some fresh air and lounge by the pool instead of acting like a barista and waitress—a job she had not signed up for. The redhead took a deep breath, feeling the warm sun on her skin, watching the water sparkle under the midday sun, inviting and cool. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. The air was filled with the scent of sunscreen and chlorine, a familiar but somehow more pleasant combination today.

The group of friends settled into their lounge chairs, and Ellie let herself relax, her freckled shoulders sinking into the cushioned seat. For once, she didn’t have to worry about keeping an eye on everyone. She could just be a regular person enjoying a day by the pool.

The afternoon slowly turned to evening as the group passed around drinks and joints, creating a relaxed atmosphere. Ellie sat at the pool's edge, letting her feet dangle in the cool water, engrossed in a lively conversation with Dina and Alexis, who were seated beside her. The setting sun painted the sky with a golden hue, casting a warm glow over them.

She had only taken a few hits off her joint, and already, she couldn’t focus on anything but your thighs. The way those shorts hugged your hips and left the soft skin of your thighs exposed for everyone to see was simply captivating. They looked as soft as silk. You wore nothing on top but a black bikini, your crop top on one of the empty lounge chairs nearby.

All noise—the incessant chattering of her friends and random people you had invited—faded into the background. You were the only thing that mattered. The way you moved, talked, and gave that stupid jerk sitting by your side a charming grin that surely made him believe he somehow stood a chance drove Ellie crazy.

What a dick, she thought to herself.

Ellie’s friends continued to talk and laugh, oblivious to her inner turmoil. Her eyes flickered to her friends and then back to you. You passed a joint to Ryan, who took it eagerly, his eyes glued to your face for once.

It was as clear as day that Ryan wanted to fuck you right there and then. Ellie recognized the look in his eyes; it was the same one she had whenever she looked at you—or so Dina claimed. But you were so hypnotizing. The way your plush wet lips wrapped around the joint, taking big hits like it was nothing—no coughing, no hesitation. It wasn’t your first time.

Ellie observed the brown-eyed boy attentively, almost maniacally, noting how his eyes never left your tits. And how you didn’t seem to mind. You almost seemed at ease with the knowledge of being liked, desired. That also meant free weed for everyone. She watched you laugh, the sound like a siren call that cut through the buzz around her. The besotten girl couldn't tear her eyes away from the way your hair fell over your shoulders, catching the last light of the setting sun, giving you an almost angelic glow. You seemed so comfortable, so effortlessly part of this world of social interactions and causal flirtations. You wore your confidence like a second skin, and Ellie found herself drawn to it, like a moth who gravitated towards danger without second thought.

Seeing Ryan, who sat next to you, soaking up your attention, caused a pang of jealousy to hit Ellie. She longed to be the person who held all of your attention, but instead, she was just an outsider looking in.

The evening air grew cooler, but Ellie hardly noticed, her focus remained solely fixed on you. The world around her seemed to blur, and all she could see was the curve of your lips, the softness of your skin, the sparkle in your eyes. She took another drag from her joint, trying to calm her racing heart. The weed did little to dull her intense focus on you. If anything, it sharpened her awareness of every detail, every movement. Although she yearned to be closer to you, she knew it was never going to happen, not even in a million years, and this awareness only fueled her inability to look away. So, all she could do was watch, caught in the spell you had casted over her against her will.

Ellie felt her throat go dry, as if suddenly all the water on the planet had evaporated, leaving her parched. It was only when Alexis nudged her that she snapped out of her trance, her red, half-lidded eyes refocusing on the blonde girl beside her. Alexis was too close, causing Ellie to shift uncomfortably, creating some distance.

Why was she focusing on you anyway? Alexis had been by her side the whole night, trying to talk to her and being overall extremely nice. But for some reason, it felt like getting a taste of something that was missing salt; it was flavorless. Alexis was sweet and nice—they even liked the same things, for God’s sake. A girl who liked the same comics as her? It was almost a canon event. But, of course, fate had other plans for Ellie because she wasn’t interested in Alexis. In fact, she found her presence almost… annoying. She mentally kicked herself for even thinking of Alexis that way. She was such a kind girl, just trying to be friends—maybe more—but Ellie couldn’t care less.

She knew it was ridiculous, this unrequited fascination with you. Yet, she couldn’t help herself. You were like a star, dazzling and distant, while Alexis, kind and warm, was like a candle—close and comforting but not enough to hold Ellie’s attention.

Ellie wanted to desperately feel something for Alexis, to reciprocate her kindness and interest, but it felt forced. She sighed, running a hand through her messy auburn hair. It was in moments like these she realized how messed up she was for always chasing people who couldn’t care less about her. She felt a pang of guilt for not appreciating Alexis, who was right there, trying her best to connect while her thoughts constantly drifted back to you. You were like a magnet, pulling her attention away from everything and everyone else.

She couldn't exactly recall how they all ended up disgustingly high, sitting in a circle and playing a stupid game of truth or dare like high schoolers. It was such a childish game, but here they were. Her eyes were fixed on the bottle as if her life depended on it, and when it landed on you, she started praying in every language she knew—though her repertoire was limited to English, and she didn't even know how to pray.

The auburnette had never been particularly religious; she didn’t even believe in luck or fate. She wasn’t sure what she believed in, preferring things she could see, things that were scientifically proven. So she didn’t know what the hell she was doing, always praying and hoping that you’d talk to her, act differently, maybe even like her. You were just you, and no amount of mental manifestation seemed enough for you to actually see her.

It was bullshit. It was even more bullshit when the bottle landed on that stupid guy who had been thirsting over you the entire night, practically drooling over your body. Ellie couldn’t look away, not even when the kiss turned into a full-blown make-out session right in front of everyone—right in front of her. His callous and hungry hands pulled you close, letting them roam over your body, your ass, your waist, while you wrapped your arms around his neck.

The sight of his hands exploring your body, of your lips moving against his with such abandon, was almost too much to bear. The green-eyed girl glanced around the circle, noting the mix of reactions—some amused, some awkwardly averting their gaze. But Ellie’s eyes were drawn back to you, unable to tear herself away from the sight of your bodies intertwined. His hands caressed the bare skin of your back, and Ellie felt a pang of envy so sharp it was almost physical. The makeout session seemed to stretch on forever, and once it was over, it kept replaying like a broken record in her sick mind, an agonizing reminder of what she couldn’t have.

The green bottle spun on the mosaic again and again, its movements blending into a rapid blur on the floor. Ellie sat there, though completely absent; she felt as if she were a million miles away, her surroundings slowly fading into an enveloping fog, the Silent Hill kind.

Jesse nudged her gently, his voice breaking through her thoughts in a friendly but insistent manner. “Dude, you with us?” His words jolted her back to reality, piercing through the haze that had enveloped her mind. She blinked, her eyes snapping to his dark chocolate pools.

Following his gaze to the floor, her eyes landed on the bottle, its neck pointing directly at her. A fleeting moment of surprise flickered across her face, her heart skipping a beat as she realized she was the chosen one.

The word “Dare” burst out of her mouth before she could even process what she was saying. Immediately, she regretted it; the cinnamon-haired girl wasn’t exactly as gutsy as she sometimes pretended to be.

And as fate would have it, the bottle’s spin ended on the very person she least wanted it to. Alexis.

Her scarred eyebrows pinched together in a disappointed frown, an unexpected dryness creeping into her mouth. With sluggish movements that felt almost like wading through molasses, Ellie slowly turned to face the girl beside her, the moonlight casting a soft glow over her blonde locks. Alexis's eyes sparkled with mischief, her lips curving into a wide grin as she scooted closer. Ellie remained rooted to her spot, frozen in place, unable to bring herself to move.

Ellie failed to notice that your gaze, as cold and piercing as ice, was fixed on her with persistent intensity. Your eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of annoyance shadowing your features.

Both girls knelt face to face, and Alexis quickly placed her hand on her waist and leaned in eagerly for a kiss. However, just as their lips met, Ellie pulled away and gave her just a gentle peck. A collective boooo rang out from the surrounding crowd, expressing their disapproval at the briefness of the kiss.

Their eyes met, Alexis' blue eyes locking with hers, holding a hint of confusion. The group around them kept urging them to kiss properly, their voices chanting and encouraging them to go further. When her gaze shifted to the crowd, Ellie's gaze inadvertently locked with yours for a moment. Your eyes were fixated on her with a harsh, almost murderous glare, as if you wanted to rip her apart that very instant.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss,”

“Ohhh come on! We want a proper kiss!”

“I love lesbian porn.”

“Is lesbian porn even real?”

When Ellie broke eye contact and turned back to the golden-haired girl before her, she saw a look of remorse plastered on her face, as if she feared she had crossed a boundary. “We don't have-” But before she could finish her sentence, Ellie silenced her by pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. Hovering over her, she gripped her by the waist, pulling her closer. Despite her efforts, though, kissing her felt almost nausea-inducing.

You didn't look away. Every second of Ellie and Alexis’ kiss was captured in the harsh, judgmental glare of your eyes. There was something almost perverse in how you watched, a blend of disgust and fascination twisting your expression. Ellie remained completely unaware of your intense observation, failing to notice the envy in your gaze and the deep-seated jealousy that gripped your stomach. Even if the redhead had detected your jealousy, she would have dismissed it as sheer animosity, failing to recognize the depth of your emotions. Just like she always did.

As the kiss ended, a huge, dumbstruck grin spread across her friend’s face, her eyes sparkling with joy like the myriad stars above them. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was slightly out of breath, clearly enjoying the moment. Ellie, on the other hand, had a look of regret and shock on her face, almost as if she was questioning every decision she had ever made in her life, a look that the blonde didn’t seem to catch on.

Ellie found it increasingly difficult to focus on the mindless dares and ridiculous questions being thrown around, her brain enveloped in a cloud of weed-induced haze. The substance in her system had relaxed her muscles to the extent that she felt like she was constantly on the verge of having an ‘accident.’

“I feel like I’m gonna piss myself—Did I piss myself?” Ellie mumbled softly into Dina’s ear, her words barely audible. Dina's dark eyes darted toward her friend’s lap, discreetly scanning for any signs of wet spots on her shorts, but there was nothing. In response, she shook her head while offering Ellie a small, sympathetic shrug and a lopsided smile that conveyed reassurance, her sleek ponytail swaying gracefully with the movement.

“You’re good,” her speech was slightly slurred, her words stumbling over each other as if she was struggling to articulate.

“Feels like my bladder gave up on me,” she grumbled, the damp spot in her boxers growing increasingly irritating. She harbored an unstoppable belief that she had, in fact, peed herself. The thought was persistent, a nagging paranoia that refused to go away no matter how much her friend had reassured her otherwise.

Dina’s perfectly shaped arches furrowed as she attempted to make sense of Ellie's slowed-down speech. The combination of alcohol and weed was a little too much for Dina to handle, as she struggled to comprehend what Ellie was saying. Thankfully, her boyfriend, who was much more sober, was there to keep a watchful eye on her. “Why aren’t you wearing a diaper?” she casually inquired, as if the redhead sitting beside her had worn them before.

“Uh, no? Why would I?” Ellie mimicked Dina’s confused expression.

“Don’t you, usually?” Her face was a portrait of genuine puzzlement.

Her auburn eyebrows drew together in puzzled bewilderment as she mulled over Dina’s query for a second or two, as if she didn’t quite know the answer herself. She started to respond, “Isn’t it too soon t—” but her words trailed off, replaced by an exasperated sigh. “Be right back,” she whispered, realizing it was futile to try talking to her friend, who was as high as gas prices.

The haze of weed and alcohol made everything feel surreal, like she was wading through a thick fog. Ellie’s mind was a chaotic mess, each thought bumping into the next. She stood up, her surroundings swaying slightly as she made her way to the back of the bar, walking around it. Even though she had worked there for quite some time and had likely been aware of the door behind the counters that led to the back of the building all along, she still decided to act like a mindless artificial intelligence bot instead.

You watched Ellie attentively, your eyes trailing her every move. The perfect excuse to get up from the circle was getting more beer. Ryan, ever eager, immediately offered to help, seizing the opportunity to be alone with you.

But God, who the fuck wanted his disgusting hands all over you?

Ryan was a means to an end, nothing more. You needed him for the weed, and you planned to ghost him the second you didn’t need him anymore. Weed was weed, and you’d do anything for free joints, spinning promises you had no intention of keeping. But guilt? That was a foreign concept to you. Playing people was your specialty: using them, manipulating them, treating men like him like obedient, panting pups. They were so eager, so desperate for your attention, that they'd leap at the chance to please you, dancing to your every whim. You took delight in their stupidity, toying with them to your liking. It was all fun until you got bored; then you’d dump them without a second thought, leaving them to wonder what they did wrong.

They were all the same. No one ever stood out to you; each encounter a cold calculation. Men like Ryan were just pawns, easily replaceable, utterly expendable, tools to be used and discarded. You enjoyed the control, how they bent to your will, the thrill of watching them scramble for your approval.

Your mind, slightly hazy from the weed and alcohol, felt both razor-sharp and wonderfully numb. You didn’t exactly know what you were thinking as your hand hovered hesitantly over the doorknob leading to the back of the bar. You looked over your shoulder to ensure no one saw you slip through the door.

You stepped out just as Ellie stumbled out of the bathroom, her movements faltering briefly when she laid eyes on you. While in the bathroom, she realized that she wasn’t going to piss herself; she was just fucking horny from all the weed she had smoked—it always had that effect on her—and seeing you made the effects even worse. Her green eyes widened for a moment, resembling a cat's eyes caught in the headlights rather than those of a deer. However, she swiftly recomposed herself, continuing to walk without acknowledging your presence. As if you didn't exist, as if she couldn't see you.

“Hey,” You called out, your voice cutting through the damp night air, but Ellie ignored you. Her steps quickened as she walked past you, her gaze fixed ahead as if you were a mere ghost haunting her path. Conversations between you two had never been normal. She was high as hell and enjoying herself for once; the last thing she wanted was another night ruined by your incessant arguing and your inability to grasp the concept of kindness. With determined steps, Ellie headed for the door that led inside the bar, your eyes lingering on the intricate tattoo on her forearm, which reached for the handle with purpose.

Just as Ellie’s fingers glided over the cold metal, your hand grasped her other arm forcefully, the strength surprising even yourself. With a sudden, harsh move, you slammed her against the wall. “What the fuu-” she cursed under her breath as she flinched at the sudden impact of her back against the brick wall, but you abruptly silenced her. You detested being ignored more than anything else. You were accustomed to always receiving attention, with people hanging on your every word and making you the focus of their world. The sensation of being ignored felt completely alien to you.

“I said hey,” You repeated, this time your voice was harsher. Ellie’s eyes, a mesmerizing shade of green, seemed to sparkle in the moonlight, resembling glistening emeralds. Her dilated pupils looked like deep black voids that threatened to swallow you whole. Despite the visible signs of confusion and irritation on her face, an unmistakable sense of intrigue emanated from her, one that didn't go unnoticed by you, and a sly smirk played at the corner of your lips in response.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you.” She retorted, annoyed and sarcastic, though her voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper.

“Yeah? Didn’t seem like it,” you quipped, flashing a mischievous smile as you leaned closer, effectively trapping her against the wall. Your body hovered over hers, your arm positioned menacingly next to her head, the gap between you growing increasingly smaller. Ellie felt a lump form in her throat as she swallowed nervously, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of her chest. Her hands trembled at the sudden proximity, and her breath caught in her throat. She leaned against the wall, her body flattened as if trying to put as much space as she could between the two of you by melding into it. The distance between you had never been this small, your body practically looming over hers, encasing her against the wall. Her mind spun as your scent filled her nostrils, a dizzying mix of musk and something else that drove her insane; pheromones, perhaps? “What, you ignoring me now?”

“No, ‘m no-”

“Yes, you are,” Your intense gaze made her skin tingle, as if deciphering her every thought and emotion swirling in her mind, “Don’t you wanna talk to me?” Your voice took on an innocent, almost petulant tone as you pouted, sticking out your lower lip and batting your eyelashes at her.

The dim light cast long shadows, dancing across the rough brick wall. The scent of sweat, alcohol, weed, and something else—something electric—filled the space between you.

“I don’t wanna argue,” the aburnette immediately replied, sighing as if to release the tension that had been building up in her system only due to your closeness. It was crazy how much power you had over her despite her trying to convince herself that she despised you because of your ugly attitude.

“Oh, baby, I don't wanna fight either.” Ellie's heart raced as she struggled to process the pet name that effortlessly rolled off your tongue. Her eyes frantically scanned her surroundings, longing for an exit that simply wasn't there. She could have easily distanced herself from you, pushed you away even, but she found herself drawn to the attention and the intimacy, both captivated and unsettled by the closeness. The warmth emanating from your body enveloped her, and the sheer force of your presence overwhelmed her senses. As her pulse quickened, the rhythm of each beat echoed loudly in her ears. Just as Ellie started to gather her thoughts, you gently lifted her chin, compelling her to meet your gaze. A delicate auburn strand of hair fell across her face, “Did you like it?” you suddenly interrogated her, reaching out to gently tuck the stray strand behind her ear.

“Like what?” she questioned back, her brow furrowed in confusion. Her voice sounded weak, and you could sense how your words made her feel small, even though it had nothing to do with height.

“The kiss—is she a good kisser?” your gaze fixed on her lips as your thumb traced a gentle path over her bottom lip.

Ellie let out a disapproving tsk as she pulled her face out of your grasp, causing your hand to drop limply to your side. “Why do you care?” Her question prompted you to glance back into her eyes. She was surprised by the intense yet gentle expression on your face. For once, you weren’t shouting at her, teasing her, or being a bitch.

“‘Cause I think you could do so much better,”

She couldn't fathom the words you were speaking or understand why you were studying her every detail as if inspecting a precious work of art, gazing at her as if she were a masterpiece rather than an inferior being. It made the freckled girl’s stomach twist with excitement and nervousness. A blush crept across her star-speckled cheeks as your eyes found their way back to her lips, and she unconsciously ran her tongue over them. It was at that moment that you leaned in, pressing your plump lips against hers in a hungry, demanding kiss.

As your lips met hers, Ellie felt like she was about to dissolve into a puddle. The texture of your lips was indescribably soft, almost as if they were crafted specifically for her. Initially, she was too stunned to reciprocate the kiss; her eyes widened in shock, resembling those of a startled cat thrown in a bathtub. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, it felt as though her heart had ceased to beat; she was certain that if a doctor had measured her pulse at that instant, they would have deemed her deceased.

It took her a few moments to process the reality of the situation. The girl she had been pining over for ages—and that also made her life miserable—was kissing her. She couldn't be certain whether it was the effect of the weed she had consumed—perhaps she had blacked out in the bathroom, and all of this was simply a figment of her imagination—but as soon as Ellie felt your gentle hands drawing her in closer by the waist, she was certain that it was all too real.

She could feel your heartbeat, the heat emanating off your skin, your lips moving against hers. It was like stepping into a new world where everything was heightened and vivid. Your lips, soft and inviting, moved with a grace that left the green-eyed girl breathless. She felt like she was floating, untethered from reality, anchored only by the warmth of your touch. It felt right.

Ellie’s mind raced, thoughts colliding in a frenzy of disbelief and euphoria. How could this be happening? She had spent countless nights dreaming of this moment, and now it was unfolding before her.

Slowly, Ellie’s initial shock faded away, replaced by a surge of boldness. She began to kiss you back, tentatively at first, then with increasing confidence. Her pale hands gripped your face, pulling you impossibly closer, their touch greedy and desperate. She tried to push you off, to reverse the roles, but you pushed her right back against the wall, pinning her in place. Both of you craved control, the conflict only adding to the intensity of your interactions. Neither of you was willing to give up easily, the power play making everything so intoxicating. Ellie sought to put you in your place, to dominate you for once, while you had another fantasy in mind—to see her writhing and squirming under your touch, completely submitted to you.

Her kisses were fierce and hungry, as if she hadn't tasted anything in days, and you were her first meal. Your lips muffled every delightful sound that escaped her, only serving to make you smile. Her hands tugged at any piece of fabric they could reach—the loops of your shorts, the laces of your bikini—as if trying to bring you even closer. She wanted you desperately, and you knew it.

You had always known. When you weren't looking, Ellie had been looking. Her fern-green gaze would devour your exposed skin at the pool, filled with an intensity that could not be ignored.

The confirmation that it wasn't just a one-sided desire made you feel all giddy. From the moment she had accidentally bumped into you on the first day of college, you had wanted her. When summer approached and the prospect of more time away from your judgmental friends became a reality, you saw an opportunity. You asked Dina to help recruit more employees, promising her a slight raise in pay. Despite the plan being less than fool-proof and unlikely to succeed, it somehow unfolded exactly how you hoped it would.

Ellie’s breaths came in ragged gasps between the kisses, each one deepening the connection, fueling the fire between you. You could feel her trembling, the tension in her body creating a delightful contrast with the softness of her skin under your touch. Your hands traced the contours of her waist and the subtle dip of her back. Each touch sent a shiver through her, her body responding to your every caress as if it had been waiting for this moment, craving your touch. Her hands emulated your movements, exploring every inch of your body as if she were attempting to commit each curve and line to memory.

You pressed your thigh between her legs, and you swore you could feel the heat of her cunt through the fabric. Ellie’s response was immediate, a moan that vibrated against your mouth as her hips rocked against you in an involuntary, desperate attempt to find friction. The feminine urge to push her further, to test her limits, to make her beg for more almost overwhelmed you.

But Ellie refused to surrender, kissing you harder, more urgently, trying to take control. Her hands found their way to your hair, pulling you closer, her nails slightly scraping your scalp in a way that was both painful and pleasurable, eliciting a moan from you. But you stood your ground, pushing back, your hands gripping her hips tightly, keeping her in place.

You broke the kiss to trail your lips along her jawline and neck, the movement eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her. She leaned her head back against the wall, breathing heavily and unevenly as your hand slipped beneath her white T-shirt. You felt the muscles of her abdomen contract under your touch.

You were almost certain you had never seen her with her shirt off, not even when she was working. She always wore T-shirts and those red, men's style swim trunks when working. Perhaps you had caught a glimpse of her in a sports bra a time or two, but certainly never any more than that. You couldn't understand why Ellie hid so much. If only she could see herself; she was legitimately beautiful, her body toned and strong. But you could never tell under those slightly baggy shirts she always wore.

Your hand pulled the hem of her shirt up to expose her abdomen as you knelt down, your mouth moving over her stomach, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin, eliciting exaggerated gasps and shudders from her, as if her body had never received the right attention before.

But as your fingers grazed the waistband of her cargo pants, Ellie suddenly snapped out of her trance, realizing that you were out in the open and at risk of being caught. Her hand pressed against your shoulder, trying to push you away and stop you. You looked up at her, meeting her gaze, her eyes wide and dark and her pupils dilated with desire and tinged with fear.

“W-we can’t, not here,” Her voice trembled as she spoke, barely above a whisper. Your head tilted, your eyes wide and innocent, your lashes almost touching your brows. Disappointment etched itself across your face, your forehead wrinkled in a frown so adorable that it made it even more difficult for her to deny you. Your expression conveyed a sense of need, of vulnerability, like you were completely dependent on her and needed her. It tugged at Ellie’s heartstrings, making her want to give in immediately.

“No one will see us,” You tried to reassure her, your fingers toying with the waistband of her shorts, but she intercepted your hands, stopping you once more. You huffed in frustration, your gaze flickering to the restroom on your left, then back to her face, hoping she would catch the hint.

Several minutes later, Ellie found herself perched on the toilet seat, legs spread wide with you kneeling in front of her. The white fabric of her shirt was trapped between her teeth, her desperate attempt to muffle her soft moans proving futile. Ellie’s cheeks were flushed, and the scattered freckles that dusted her damp skin stood out vividly against the pink hue. Her brows were scrunched in pleasure and concentration; her eyes rolled to the back of her cranium before squeezing them shut, trying to chase her third orgasm already.

The sight of Ellie’s sports bra peeking from underneath her shirt and her tensed, toned abs had you drooling all over her pussy. You stared at the aburn-haired girl almost in a trance, captivated by her body as if she were your muse. Her abs were like a sculptor’s masterpiece. Your eyes traced the outline of her bra, the way it clung to her, wishing you could take it off, but you were too impatient to feel her cumming in your mouth again to do that, and you sure as hell weren't going to pull away. Maybe another time.

You could sense every fiber of her being, her body speaking a language you were fluent in that told you exactly what she craved. Your tongue, a delicate pink ribbon, traced her sopping slit with deliberate care, teasing, tasting, before zeroing in on that needy bundle of nerves that demanded your attention, a stifled whine escaping her mouth. Her moans grew louder, each one urging you on.

You devoured Ellie’s saccharine essence like a starved beast, your eyes locked onto her with the intensity of a tiger stalking its prey. Her expressions, a symphony of pleasure and desperation, were a masterpiece you couldn't look away from, your gaze drinking in every nuance of her expression, reveling in her artistry. And it was all for you. The mere thought of that made your cunt twitch in your bikini, which was now completely soaked; its sleek black fabric covered by translucent honey—not for everyone to see.

You danced between flicks of your tongue and alternating gentle, then demanding sucks. Ellie’s clit pulsed wildly in your mouth, her juices anointing your chin like a sacred nectar. She was the best thing you had ever had, not that you would ever admit it out loud to her.

Ellie’s moans were music to your ears, fucking divine, a soundtrack that was most likely going to play at the back of your mind while pleasuring yourself later on whenever you'd go back home. One of her thighs draped over your shoulder, her leg a soft but firm anchor as you wrapped your arm under the other, pulling her closer. Her taste, her very essence, was all-consuming, and you couldn’t get enough.

Ellie’s teeth finally released the white fabric of her shirt, allowing it to fall back over her toned stomach, her lips swollen and a dazed look in her eyes. “G’na... fuuuuck…” she stammered, the words tumbling out in a deliciously incoherent mix of pleasure and haze, her mind too foggy to form a coherent thought. Ellie was completely lost in every flick of your tongue and every hungry suck on her swollen clit.

You smirked against her, slapping the side of her thigh harshly, right over the pink imprint of your hand already etched into her skin. The sting made her whimper and jerk away from your mouth, but your grip on her thigh brought her back where she belonged. You had made a mess of the green-eyed girl, and stopping was the last thing on your mind, especially with her third orgasm looming.

You were just getting started.

You hummed into her, the vibrations drawing little gasps from Ellie's mouth. You didn't stop. Even when her body couldn't take it anymore and silently pleaded for you to let go, you kept going, taking everything you could from her. Your tongue and lips were relentless, sucking harshly as she squirmed on the white toilet seat, trying weakly to push you away. Her hand at the top of your head was a feeble attempt to escape and move you away from her core, slow you down perhaps, but you didn't budge.

Ellie cried out, her voice breaking into whines as if she were on the verge of tears, your relentless moans against her clit only pushing her further. Despite her desperate warnings that she couldn’t take any more, you didn't stop until a warm flush sprayed against your face, making you pull away instinctively.

The thunderous booms and crackles of the fireworks outside were deafening, drowning out her loud cries and whimpers. Each burst of color and light in the sky timed up perfectly with the waves of ecstasy coursing through her body.

Ellie’s body trembled, her muscles twitching in the aftermath. You looked up at her, eyes glazed with satisfaction, licking your lips and savoring her taste. She was a beautiful wreck, panting heavily, her chest heaving with each breath.

“Did you just—” You glanced down at the glistening pool of her juices on the bathroom floor, eyes lingering on the sight for a moment before looking back up at her. Her cheeks were flushed a deep, rosy red, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She exhaled shakily, the color on her face intensifying as embarrassment crept in.

The thin layer of sweat on Ellie’s forehead caused her baby hairs to cling to her skin, sticking to the sides of her face. You pulled back, running the back of your hand over your mouth and chin, wiping away the slick evidence from your face.

“Yeah,” she gasped, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“Didn’t think you were a squirter,” you snorted, your hand coming up to gently stroke her thigh as she sat up on the toilet seat.

“Me neither,” Ellie admitted, her response causing your eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. A sense of satisfaction and pride filled your chest, knowing you were the one who had drawn that intense orgasm from her. As your eyes met, a giggle of contentment escaped your lips.

But the intimacy was suddenly interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Both of you tensed up, eyes widening in alarm at the unexpected disturbance.

“Ellie? You in there?” Dina's voice cut through the heavy atmosphere, her once-slurred words sounding slightly more coherent, likely due to Jesse's intervention in getting her to sober up. The sound of her words was a sudden disturbance, like a splash of cold water that jerked you and Ellie back to reality. You exchanged a hesitant look, both of you struggling to collect yourselves and regain composure

She hastily put her boxers and pants back on, scrambling to get dressed and compose herself. “Yeah, just give me a minute,” she called out hurriedly to Dina, her heart still racing from the recent encounter and the fear of getting caught.

Dina's voice sounded more concerned now, the sound of her trying to open the door sending a jolt of panic through Ellie. “Everything okay?” she asked. “Jesse and I are about to leave.”

“Yeah, shit,” Ellie muttered curses under her breath as you helped her tidy up, both of you scrambling to look presentable. She darted to the sink to clean her face, her voice trembling with nervousness as she lied to Dina, cursing the weed and blaming it for her nausea. Meanwhile, Dina stood outside the bathroom, her ear pressed against the door as she listened intently to the movement and sounds coming from inside.

She tried to open the door again, her interest piqued by the sounds of whispering and rustling coming from inside. “You okay?” she pried. The doorknob rattled loudly, but fortunately, you had secured the door earlier, preventing any potential intrusion. “Need me to come in?”

Ellie’s response was hurried and slightly panicked as she said, “No, no! I’m good, I’m good.” A short while later, the door opened, and a slightly disheveled Ellie emerged with a wide smile, approaching Dina, who looked puzzled and somewhat intoxicated. With her arms crossed, Dina scrutinized her best friend’s appearance, struggling to form a coherent thought.

“Are you okay?” the honey-eyed girl inquired, giving Ellie a once-over and attempting to peek behind her. But she promptly blocked her path.

“I’m feeling fantastic,” Ellie exclaimed with a wide grin, breezing past Dina and narrowly avoiding a collision as she gently guided her away from the doorway. With a quick flick of her wrist, she securely locked the door behind her. “Are you all set to head out?” she asked eagerly, striding off as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, trying to leave the situation behind her.

You heard Dina's footsteps fading into the summer night alive with the sounds of crickets, fireworks, and distant laughter; you let out a long, deep sigh of relief, feeling the cool tiles against your bare back, gradually easing away the tension and anxiety that had built up.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, the bar’s dim lighting and background chatter enveloped you once more. You spotted Ellie and Dina near the exit, Dina’s arm around Ellie’s shoulders as they prepared to leave. Ellie glanced back at you, a secretive smile playing on her lips, and you knew that this night had changed everything.

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miiyas · 4 months ago

Text

ROUTINE

atsumu was late, but there’s one thing he’d never forget to do.

wc: 452, fluff, post-timeskip, gn reader, not proof read

late. atsumu miya was late as hell.

his practice was supposed to start bright and early today- six am sharp. it was six fifty four right now.

“shit, shit, shit !!”

atsumu fumbled with the bag strapped around his shoulder as it falls on and off him. he runs around the house with panic in his eyes and calls out for you, opening the fridge doors to look for his protein shake, the one that you make.

“babe, did you find the jersey ?!” after a quick dig for the bottle, he quickly grabs for it and closes the doors a little too hard, making the containers inside rattle against each other gently. almost on queue, hearing your rushed footsteps, the blonde makes his way to the genkan, crouching down and stomping on his shoes with more force than he intends, creating unwanted creases. with one hand on his footwear, the other tugged open his practice bags stubborn zipper, trying to make it easier and faster for you to put in his washed (and probably still a little wet) jersey.

“hey, baby. put on your shoes, i’ll do this.” atsumu looks up at you as he hears your voice. his shoulders relax slightly but he wastes no time. he mumbles a quick ‘thanks’ before using two big hands to slip on his shoes. just as he finishes putting the pairs on, you finish putting the leftover items into his bag, stuffed with his change of clothes, shoes, and a few snacks you’d always thrown in. he quickly grabs for the strap and swings it on his shoulder as you rush him out.

“hurry, you’re late enough as it is !!” you quickly open the front door of the house, but atsumu stops and looks down at you, wide eyes and still displaying a bit of panic. but … there was something else behind it. and no matter how much you try and struggle, it’s hard to move a six foot two pro volleyball player out the door,.

“i forgot something !”

“‘tsumu, are you serious ?!” atsumu nods quickly, iris’s shining gently and leaning down to meet your face. cupping the side of your cheek with gentle hands, he places a gentle kiss on your lips.

oh, have you forgotten because of all the rush ? there has never been a moment when atsumu had left home without a kiss to your lips and a gentle ‘i love you,’ making the ring on your finger feel all the more noticeable.

“love ya. i’ll be home soon, yeah ?” with that, atsumu leaves the house with a quick swing of the door, rushing to his car as you hear him start the engine.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x you #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x you #atsumu x you #atlas writes !

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your-highnessmarvel · 5 months ago

Text

Insatiable

AN: No one asked for this but the Butcher brain rot is crazy and i can't stop myself. Alas, I couldn't resist so welcome to the madness. Anyway, I went insane and absolutely wrote a devoted piece to this man. Jesus help me.

Warnings: dub-con (use of sex pollen-ish mind control), smut, fingering, language, and Butcher is a warning in and of itself.

MINORS DNI Below the cut

"I'm not wearing any underwear."

The admonition echoed in the habitat of Butcher's Cadillac like a bird's call. Even the sound of leather on leather, as the man sitting beside you slowly turned to examine you, wasn't loud enough to get the stupid ringing out of your head.

This had all started off like a bad scab you thought was healed but wasn't, and now it was bleeding all over your favorite pink pull.

Hughie and MM had uncovered a rightful piece of Temp V hideout; a Supe's mansion on the Upper East Side who, just happened, to be throwing one of his renowned "XXXchange" parties for Supes and their pets (this was how it was described on the e-vite MM hacked).

This Supe, still unknown to everyone because he kept the mansion under a random woman's name, was supposedly a Seven-in-the-making, as Hughie put it. If he could prove himself, he was next in line for a comfy beige seat in the Tower. So hence, him keeping and distributing Temp V to teens and young adults who didn't know any better.

So what had been Hughie's grand ol' plan? Bring you in. As the newest Supe member of The Boys, no one had yet seen your face. No one even knew of you. You were a low-level "barely considerable" Supe...as Butcher had put it the first time he blew the hinges off your front door.

Your power wasn't really a - well, a power at all. It was mostly an advancement, an intellectual add-on, or a sixth sense. You could read lies. More coherently, because someone with a beard and a giant stick up his ass didn't understand correctly--you could tell when someone was lying.

You weren't really an attribute to the team when it came to brute force. You left that up to Annie and Kimiko. But you had your perks, and since you were still under Vought's radar, you could slip through the cracks and get intel for the Boys.

Now why was Butcher with you, the most notorious Boys' member? Well, one might say he was eager to see your 2-hour fight training in practice, but really, it was because he "didn't trust a dumb twat with highly sensitive information and tech". His words.

So he'd garnished a Tommy Bahama blouse with pink flamingoes and palm trees and a matching set of swim shorts, sunglasses, and a stupid bright pink bucket hat that was way too small for his big ass head.

And now here both of y'all were, headed to the Upper East Side, dressed like a hooker and a pimp. Annie had insisted on this get up, a tiny, tiny pink skirt, a white bikini top, and a pink cover up with flip flops to finish off this fucking look. Because apparently, no one would let you in if you weren't A) a Supe and B) not dressed like a House Bunny.

"So you're tellin' me," Butcher drawled as the New York skyline darkened, "that your bare pussy is suction-cupping my leather seats?"

You crossed your arms. "I'm sitting at an angle."

Butcher slapped the wheel. "You should've told me earlier!" he laughed. You frowned in return when he swivelled that giant head of his towards you. "Come now, if you're not wearing panties, why should I, eh?"

"You wear panties?"

He hummed, regaining control of the road as the car slipped passed the last townhouse to enter Mansion Ville.

"I like you, little Truthteller," he mumbled to himself. "Thought you were a bit worthless at first, but you might just prove yourself tonight!"

You didn't dare answer the last bit, instead focusing on the details Annie and Hughie gave you before you flip-flopped your way into Butcher's passenger seat (and did absolutely not suction-cup his leather seats).

The idea was to go in and place a few bugs in and around the mansion in key locations. You could try to figure out who the Supe was or even find out where he stashed his V, but it didn't matter. The Boys would find out over the bugs.

The mansion Butcher parked the Caddie in front of was like a cookie-cutter version of the 90s PlayBoy mansion.

"Alright, love," Butcher sighed, killing the engine and stepping out, rounding the nose of the car to open the door for you. "Give 'em a nice peek of that minge, eh?"

You blushed from head to toe, a torment of fire assaulting your skin until Butcher caught on and chuckled low in his chest, helping you step out the car with his hand.

You still hadn't gotten used to the crass words that could tumble out of his mouth like vomit.

He guided you to the entrance, where a man dressed in black boxers and a black neck tie asked for your invite number, which you recited from the one Hughie gave you.

Then he asked, "And which is Supe and which is pet?"

You blushed even hotter. "Um." Your throat got sticky and dry all at once. "I'm the Supe and he's my... um, he's my-"

"Her pet," Butcher interrupted with a wide smile, the sunglasses hiding the glint in his eye that was surely showing. That ridiculous bucket hat made him look almost two heads taller than you as he bent down to whisper in your ear, "bark, bark."

You groaned inwardly as you lead him into the foyer, where a sprawling staircase lead to a mezzanine and a mahogany banister and a wide archway gave way to a mess of bodies in the living room.

"Oh my God," you mumbled, turning away from the onslaught of legs and arms and slithering bodies like a pile of snakes.

"Oh, nuh-uh," Butcher chuckled, grabbing you by the shoulders, steering you right into the mass of party-goers, moaning and groaning and thrusting into one another or bouncing on top of each other like mad dogs. "If you want to play the part, you have to look the part." His mouth was right next to your ear, and for some reason, the breath caressing your skin sent a slowly gliding shiver down your spine.

Why was this happening?

You felt the flesh melt where his fingers lay, clutching at your shoulders, pulling your coverup off of you.

"Butcher," you said, stopping his hand.

He shook his head. "Show them what you got, mama," he whispered again, the rough of his beard tracing against your cheek. He scooped the coverup off your shoulders and threw it across the room, leaving you in your bikini top.

Butcher had never seen you so exposed before. You'd always worn pants and t-shirts around the safe house, so watching all that bare skin available to his hungry eyes flipped a switch in his head.

A woman, tall and elegant, cream skin and sultry black eyes, approached you before Butcher could do something stupid. He straightened up, lifting the sunglasses from his nose.

"Miss, look at you," he cooed.

Miss was naked. Someone had left a bite mark on her right breast, just above her peaked nipple. She was so long-limbed and beautiful, and the sight of her naked body made you turn away instinctively.

"I like you," she said, voice low and husky, like a purr.

"I like you too, sweetheart," Butcher answered, the heat of his body completely leaving you as he zeroed in all his attention on the naked, wanting lady before you.

She huffed. "You're great too," she answered, and when you turned, her lascivious brown eyes were settled on you. "But it's her that I want."

Butcher gasped and then erupted in laughter, taking the bucket hat off his head and putting it to his heart. "Woah, I never imagined I'd see this in my lifetime."

The other woman smiled slowly and you gulped. She was pretty, but she was also not part of the mission.

So you back-peddled.

You put a delicate hand to Butcher's arm, digging your nails into his skin, and put on a lovely, sweet smile for the offering girl. "That's nice of you," you said, voice sultry like a wet candy cane. "But we're more interested in watching." As you said this, you dropped into your act as best you could, mustering up the strength not to blush but to play the part of the sex-obsessed Supe.

She brightened up at this, gesturing to Butcher. "Well I could fuck him while you watch," she suggested.

Butcher's body tensed up against you and he turned to you. "Please say yes," he mumbled.

You smiled, throwing him a glance. "Both of us are watchers," you corrected, watching as she bowed her head, a lustrous gleam in her eye.

"It would've been a pleasure," she said before walking away.

When she was climbing onto another woman's lap, Butcher grabbed your bicep and brought you into a corner, sheltered in the dim lighting of the room, smothered under the moans and groans and the sloppy sounds of...intercourse.

"You were this close to fulfilling a fantasy of mine," he groaned, and when you looked up, he looked more angry than turned on.

"We're not here so I can watch you have sex with a woman, asshole!" you gritted between your teeth. ''We're here to plant bugs and find some V."

He huffed, rearranging his Tommy Bahama. "I'm obeying just because you're wearing this outfit," he grumbled, following you as you led them into the next room.

A kitchen, stock full with boxes of canned beverages and food platters.

"Okay, here." You pointed to the dinner table in the adjacent room, a teakwood marvel that surely housed a few meetings or two.

Butcher expertly placed a bug under the table.

You meandered safely through the house, planting bugs in various living rooms, meeting rooms, and spare bedrooms. Whenever some couple or lone masturbator dedicated their attention to you both, you pretended to watch, Butcher enlacing you in his arms.

It's only then you noticed how tall, how big this man was. He was easily dwarfing you by just standing there, your head against his chest, his fingers drawing lazy circles against your exposed spine.

When the onlookers would pass, he'd chuckle as you pushed him away like he was a booger wall.

But the more you traveled in the house, the more people seemed to stare, wanting, questioning. So you ended up holding Butcher's hand, at his command: "Wouldn't want the lovely ladies stealing you away, eh?"

And hand holding turned into his arm around your shoulders, the tip of his very long fingers ghosting your breast.

"Let's go upstairs," he whispered in your ear once he'd bugged up the toilet.

"Ew, no."

He sucked his teeth. "I mean," he gritted, pushing you up against a wall when a man with a considerably large strap on made his way towards you. Butcher bent down, squeezing the breath from your lungs as he grazed his mouth on your bare shoulder. He pressed a featherlight kiss, all while observing the passing man, dragging his lips up to your ear. "We should go bug up the rooms, eh? Maybe see if we can find this cunt's V supply?"

You nodded, a wicked shiver pebbling your flesh.

Butcher blew cold breath onto the thin line of saliva he'd left on your skin. "Cold?"

You swallowed hard. "Let's just go."

He chuckled as you grabebd his hand and led him back to the stairs, galloping up to the second floor.

Truth is, you'd never imagined Butcher like this. He was so arrogant and he loved to make people jump out of their skins by how uncomfortable they were with him, but you'd chopped it up to the old chip on the block; Butcher pushing people away to keep himself safe.

So when the Boys had initiated you, you'd figured it'd be best to steer clear from this tyrant of a man. He was way older than you anyway, and he was always calling you every name in the book except your government given one. And he was always dismissing your ideas, so you'd always assumed he had an image of an immature little girl in his head.

But he'd dreamed of you more times than he cared to count. The messed up parts of his brain, where most of it was left behind in his old life, conjured up hauntings of you every night. Of those soft, plump lips whenever you'd eat cherries. Of your legs in your pajama shorts and your giggle when Kimiko signed something stupid. Of that perfect little body of yours.

"Okay, in here." You interrupted his chain of thought, the one that was going to crash into a puddle brains that would eventually leak out of his ear.

You lead him into a room, which turned out to be some kind of antechamber with a hearth and a giant portrait of a small, bald man.

"He looks like a mouse," you muttered.

But Butcher froze, tearing his hand away from yours. "Oh, fuck me," he groaned, putting his sunglasses and hat onto the low table. "That's the fucking Seducer."

Your skin crawled. You turned, examined Butcher's expression as he leaned against the far wall. "This cum guzzler is the one trafficking V?" he thought to himself, just as you asked, "who's the Seducer?"

Butcher turned to examine you across the room, lit by a few lights in the sconces. "He's the world's number 1 date raper," he answered, frowning. "This guy can intoxicate the female species into a mad heat, like dogs."

"What?" You frowned.

Butcher walked a bit closer, turning his head to watch you out of one eye, like a bird. "Yeah, he secrets this hormone on a whim and boom, bitches go mad for his dick."

"Oh." You swallowed, turned to push the handle of another door, leading to a darkened room fit for a king. "I think this is his room."

Butcher muttered behind you, "Lucky guy if you ask me."

"Trouble getting women, Butcher?" you asked absentmindedly as you entered the dark room, lights from the lawn outside filtering milky-white through the windows, illuminating your path like a trail of snow.

Butcher followed, closing the door behind you. "Not really," he answered, immediately pulling cubbards and drawers open. "The ladies love me."

"Oh, yeah I bet," you muttered, pulling open the wardrobe. A loose floorboard creaked loudly and you froze, turning to meet Butcher's eye.

He scrambled to where you stood, pressing on the floor and repeating the awful creaking sound.

"Pants jizzer must be keeping the V under his floor," he mumbled, pressing until at least 6 floorboards rose from the ground on one end, a whole door to the underside of the Seducer's floor.

"Bingo," you giggled, helping Butcher pull the damn thing open. But there was nothing there, only an empty black space that could've fit maybe two people, gaping at you like a dark maw. "He must have transfered them," you whispered.

"Or he's trafficking other things," Butcher replied darkly.

Just as you were about to close the floorboards, a loud thud rang out in the antechamber. You froze, listening, until a feminine giggle made you and Butcher lock eyes.

"Get in," he whispered, motioning to the black pit under your knees.

"In here!?" you whispered tightly.

Whoever was on the other side was making their way towards the room, painstakingly, and this was not the place you and Butcher needed to be found.

"Yes, fuck, get in," he insisted, and your heart thudded so loudly, so harshly against your throat you thought it would burst right out through your chest.

Shaking, you got into the little space, falling onto your back because you couldn't see where this thing ended. As soon as you got your hair out of your eyes, Butcher was tumbling onto you, closing the floorboards a millisecond before the bedroom door burst open.

Sound was immediately muffled, like being underwater, and the only thing you could hear was your breathing. Butcher's breathing over you. Your heart in your throat, nauseating you, the adrenaline rushing like a flood in your veins.

Butcher's chest heaving against yours, the entire length of him pressed up on you like a heavy blanket.

"Get off," you whispered, feeling the heat of his forearm next to your head.

"There's no space," he grumbled, his voice catching on your cheek, your neck, as he tried to maneuver himself every which way that meant he wasn't pressed up on you, but he was just so damn big, like hiding with a grizzly bear, that whenever he tried to move, he just ended up being half on and half off you.

"Fuck it," he grumbled, pressing one hand under your thigh, wrenching a gasp from your throat as he placed himself comfortably between your legs.

The pressure of him on your bare bottom half made you freeze, heart hammering like an angry drum against your ribcage. The way you were positioned, thighs wide open, knees bent each side of his waist, made the skimpy little skirt bundle up onto your tummy, leaving you completely bare.

"Hush up, little thing," Butcher whispered in your ear, holding himself up on his forearms as not to crush the breath out of you. But his voice was wretched, pulled and tight, no doubt reacting to the heat he could feel through the thin fabric of his swim shorts.

The noise overhead intensified; a moan, a few garbled words, thudding.

"They're going to do it while he lie here," you whispered, hands balled up by your sides.

Butcher chuckled silently, breath fanning your neck. "So we really are voyeurs."

You smiled, holding back a giggle until a heavy thud caught your attention and the voices suddenly got a bit clearer. They were right over you.

A woman's voice floated through. "How ever I can serve you, Seducer."

The last word made your insides coil in fear. It looked like this woman was answering a command from the Seducer himself, the man who owned this house, who trafficked all the V and worked with Vought.

"Fuck," Butcher muttered. "This is worse than I thought."

"Why?" you asked silently, your fingers trembling against your thighs.

You felt him bend forward, his body tight like a rod. "This is going to hurt, love."

And just as you were about to ask what he was about to do, a soft pang echoed in your lower belly, like someone had tied a rope to your bellybutton and pulled. You squirmed, the thudding overhead leading back to the bed.

The pulling again, making you heave in a breath, squeeze your eyes shut. "No, no, no," you muttered, feeling an ache build between your legs, a force pull through your veins like molten honey.

The Seducer was using his power. And it wasn't just affecting the woman he was with... it was starting to affect you.

You felt yourself clench on nothing but air when the ache throbbed against your clit, like an invisible vacuum seal had closed over it, and you lifted your hips off the floor slightly.

Butcher immediately grabbed your hip, bringing you back down forcibly, sending a new wave of heat, of ache, of hurt through your body just at the touch of his bare fingers on your bare hip.

"Don't," he breathed, his word clipped. "Don't do that."

He could feel the heat of you through his shorts, just how impossibly hot you were, probably dripping from the Seducer's power, and the little control he exhibited around you was pulling quite taut.

"It hurts, Butcher," you gritted through your teeth, hands settling on his shoulders for support as another wave of need, of painful, painful need, throbbed through your body like a pulsing nuclear explosion. Your legs tightened around his waist, nails digging into the fabric of his Tommy Bahama. "Make it stop," you pleaded, heaving, throwing your head back, bucking your hips to get the pain to stop. Just stop.

Butcher huffed, cradling your face, his insides in turmoil with his brain. God had given him such a gift right now, a chance to take you, mark you as his, finally fuck that perfect little body--and he didn't know if he was man enough to stop himself.

You groaned in pain, subconsciously grinding your bare pussy against his thigh, searching for any kind of friction, of relief. Your skin was so hot, sweat beading your forehead as you braced through another wave of this unknown ache, throbbing relentlessly against your clit, deep inside you, just grazing your g-spot.

Your fingers balled into fists against his shirt, your face finding his chest, and you sobbed, "Make it stop, Butcher, please, it hurts."

You weren't aware that your hips had started grinding against his thigh, the knee he'd placed between your legs for leverage. And just the fact that he could feel his shorts getting soaked had him straining against the stitches of his sanity.

"There's only one way," he breathed against your ear. You sobbed, heaving, breathing raggedly, grinding so hard on his knee it was almost pathetic. "Are you sure you want to try?" he asked, voice trembling.

You sniffed, hung onto his neck for dear life. "Please, anything, this is--ah--this is unbearable."

He bent his head, mumbled for God to forgive him, and then pressed a deep, hard kiss on your lips, pressing you back into the floor completely. Somewhere above him, he heard a woman moan loudly, but the only thing that registered to him was the way you clung to him like a pawing animal.

A strangled moan, quiet and restrained, left your throat, caught behind your teeth as he ravaged your mouth.

"N-no," you mumbled. "No."

He pulled away, kissing your jaw, your neck until your were humping his thigh like a woman gone mad.

"This the only way, little Truthteller," he murmured in your ear, dragging his knee away and feeling your entire body go stiff against him.

A whine, like delicious music, lifted to his ear and he groaned inwardly. He had to convince himself he was doing it for you, but half of him was delighted at the idea of finally having you. Like a meal he'd been mouth-watering over for some time, and now it was fresh and warm right in front of him.

"I need," you muttered, groaning through another wave of the Seducer's power, your hips bucking into nothing. "I need..."

"You need to cum, little dove," Butcher whispered, caressing the side of your face and you shook your head.

"No."

"Yes, love," he muttered, tracing the line of your neck, down your chest until he softly cupped your breast.

A quiet moan rippled along your throat like a symphony to his ears. He played with your hard nipple through the fabric until he pushed it aside and replaced his thumb with the warmth of his mouth.

"Fuck," you whispered, pushing against his shoulders. "This is wrong." Your voice was so thin.

Butcher lapped at your nipple like an ice cream cone. "Want me to do this to your pretty little pussy?" he mumbled, and the crass words sent a hot wave of need pulsing painfully between your legs.

His other hand skimmed down your side, over the swell of your hip, and down to where you needed him most.

When he swiped a slow finger across your soaked folds, the grunt that left him was purely predatory. "You're so fucking wet," he whispered, to the accompanying sound of your panting. He brushed his thumb across your clit, holding you down as you jolted, flicking his tongue against your nipple.

"Butcher, please," you begged.

"Billy, love," he whispered, raising his head to kiss the corner of your mouth, brushing his thumb against your clit once more to capture your gasp in his kiss. "Call me Billy."

You gripped onto his shoulders, feeling the wide, powerful muscle of his right hand playing with you.

He pressed three fingers flat against you and you bucked, searching for more, as he circled slowly, starting you off.

"Say it," he commanded quietly, circling your clit faster.

"Billy," it came out as a whine and he groaned lowly, capturing your lips and kissing down your throat. The way his fingers played you like a harp wrenched a pornographic moan from your throat and immediately, Billy put a hand over your mouth, the skin between his thumb and forefinger snug under your nose.

"Quiet for me, little Truthteller," he whispered.

He moved his fingers to your entrance and slipped one in so easily it was almost embarrassing. He cooed at you, gliding his finger in and out so slowly it was almost arrogant. "So fucking wet, this perfect little hole."

You keened, squeezing your eyes shut at his crude words, searching for more friction until the heel of his hand pressed snuggly against your clit.

Your hips moved on their own, bucking against his hand as he pumped his finger, faster and faster until your pants turned into hyperventilating and your legs started to close around his hips.

"Got my whole hand drenched, pretty love," he whispered. "That perfect little cunt can handle another finger?"

You preened against his hand, your sounds muffled against his large, meaty palm and he chuckled at you.

The second finger was a tighter fit, his thick digits spreading you and squelching into you slowly.

"Ah, there's my girl," he moaned in your ear. "Fucking my fingers like a good girl."

You wanted to tell him to quit teasing, to bring you to orgasm as quickly as possible because the heat stirring under your skin was insatiable, but you didn't understand how much Billy was enjoying himself. He didn't know when he'd get a chance to have you so willingly spread open for him again, or if he'd ever get the chance again. So he savored this moment like a dying man's last meal.

He let you adjust to his fingers, fucking them into you, palming your clit before he thrust in another finger, opening you wide to him. You gurgled against his hand, muffled moans and pleas stuck behind his palm.

He didn't miss just how tight you were around his fingers, how snug and warm. "So tight, my little love," he cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out slowly, enjoying the way your hips bucked.

The sloppy sounds of your cunt sucking on his fingers drove you mad and a hot, painful knot formed in your belly, pulling and tugging at your insides.

He felt you trembling, your orgasm on the horizon, and he lifted his hand off your mouth, capturing your lips in a warm, sloppy kiss.

"Want you to cum with my name in your mouth," he mumbled, almost incoherent in his chase for your climax. He pressed his thumb to your mouth, opening it, listening to your panting, your quiet moans as he fucked his fingers into your cunt, pressing down on your clit, rubbing it with his palm.

"Billy," you breathed. "Billy. Billy." Like a mantra, a prayer.

"That's it, my pretty girl," he whispered, thumb on your tongue, fingers fucking your pussy until that knot in your bely tightened impossibly and your legs went numb. "Cum my pretty dove, gush all over my hand, come on now."

He grunted against you, and somehow, that guttural, manly sound made stars explode in your belly and you came, shuddering his name quietly, over and over and over until the pleasure had seeped out of your veins and you crumbled back to the floor. You felt his fingers slip out of you, his wet hand pull your knee apart, press against the meat of your thigh, spreading you wide, wide open.

He slithered down your body like a snake, pushing you up against the confines of this box until you felt the warm breath of him against your clit. When he lapped at you, humming around your hole like a satiated man, you mumbled his name, searching with your hands until you grabbed onto the thick strands of his hair. Panting, you mumbled his name again.

"Just having a taste, love," he mumbled, sucking on your over-sensitive clit until the heat came blasting through you again, all over, like you were under the Seducer's spell again.

"Fuck," you gritted, biting your lip, caging in the awfully loud, guttural moan that wanted to spring free.

Billy grabbed onto your hips, holding them down, his forearm over your belly like an anchor.

"One more, little Truthteller," he mumbled, flicking your clit with his tongue, his beard scraping on the inside of your sensitive thighs.

"Billy, please," you whined softly.

"Always wanted a taste," he said. Not a lie. "Always wanted to tongue-fuck this perfect hole." Not a lie.

He pressed his tongue flat to your clit, sucked and nibbled on it until he pressed his tongue right into your cunt, fucking you with his tongue like he'd promised. The mix of his hot breath, his tongue inside your walls, his thumb working on your clit made all your senses flush full of adrenaline. Bucking against his face, you rode his mouth until another flash burst through you and you came all over his face, grinding down on his nose until the last waves of your orgasm had left you.

When he climbed back over, kissing your belly, your nipple, covering you with his warmth, you were just a numb shell of the girl you were when you walked in here.

Billy kissed your jaw, your neck, stroking your hair as you regained your senses.

Whoever had been overhead had gone. It was completely silent. And it left you wondering if that last wave of need had been the Seducer's spell or Billy's.

"We should go, love," he whispered. "Before I stuff you full of my cock and have you cumming on it for the third time."

His filthy mouth brought you back to your body, cold and sweaty and oh so comfortable with two orgasm singing in your veins.

"Yeah," you whispered as Billy pushed the trap door open, peaking out to make sure the coast was clear, and then hopping out. He helped you out with his hand, gentle and calm, smoothing down your hair, covering your nipple, patting down your two-inch skirt.

"I've made a real good mess of you, love, eh?" he chuckled, standing and taking your hand. "Was I a good pet?"

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