#If some of these are reminding you of older pieces... Yeah. I just like these situations enough to draw them again.

[bigs-bigshot]

Pizza slices, chicken meat and slice of cake requested by: me. :)

[rafesslxt]

What are friends for? | Theodore Nott

summary: y/n and theo are best friends. she need‘s a little help to make a boy jealous, who ignores her. so what are friend for if not for helping each other?

warning: smut, smoking, drinking, best friends to lovers, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral

words: 3,7k

notes: my first smut!! english is not my first language, tell me If there is something to correct, I don‘t speak italian I used a translator, request are open 🫶🏻✨

have fun reading <3

— ✨

" It's like I'm not even there anymore! " I huffed and let my body fall onto Pansy's bed. " Maybe Blaise needs a little reminder that you're not some toy to play with. Show him that there are plenty of boys who want a piece of you. " She was right, but I couldn't bring it over my heart to led one poor guy on just to make Blaise jealous. We ain't even official. We just went on some dates and I thought that he really liked me, but now he ghost me at every chance he gets.

" I don't want to break a heart just for that. He's not worth it. Maybe I should jut let it - " " No no no! I have an idea! Why don't you ask one of the boys?" Pansy asked, right on point because a second later, Mattheo came into Pansy's room. " Whats up? Playing all by yourselfs?" he teased and threw his bag into the corner of the room. " We need somebody for y/n to make Blaise jealous. He acts like a total ass!" He raised his eyebrows and looked at me.

" Why don't you ask Theo? Think he would be perfect for that." he smiled at me and then at Pansy. " Oh my god yes! That's a win win! You totally liked him a few months ago!" Pansy babbled out. " Pansy!" Mattheo's grin widened. " Really? Well, then I think he's more than perfect."

I sighed and stood up. " I can't ask him. What If he say's no? That would be so embarrassing and I don't want him to think I'm that desperate."

To be honest, I still liked Theodore more than any other guy. We were best friends since we first saw each other when we got sorted into our houses. It clicked instantly. And the older we got, the more of a crush developed inside of me for him. I'm just scared that he doesn't like me as much as I like him. What If he thinks this is weird and cuts our friendship? So I just kept it for myself, and Pansy.. and now Mattheo. 

" Hey why are you all in Pansy's room? I was looking for ya'll." All the hairs on my body raised when I heard his voice coming through the door. " Oh you know, we were just talking about the party tonight and how Y/n is looking for a date." Pansy answered him before I could even say something.

" A date? " he asked irritated. " What about Blaise? Thought you had something going on with him?" And again, before I could answer, Pansy did. " Oh he is a total and stupid ass! He ghosts her so we need a new one to make him jealous. But good you are here now." She smiled at her last own words.

" What do you mean by that? " he asked suspicious of her words. " Come on Mattheo, let's go I'm hungry."  Both of them left the room, but not before Mattheo winked at me. " What the hell are they talking about?" Shit, I can't do this. I’m already freaking out inside, how am I supposed to ask him for such a favor?

" Bella, what is it? Are you okay?" he asked and sat beside me on the bed. " Uhm you know.. like Pansy said I - I need someone for the party. " I looked up at him, he always looked so confident and handsome. " And Blaise is going to be there and Pansy thought - I mean you know Pansy - " I tried to laugh it off. " She thinks it would be good for me to show Blaise that there are other boys that want me." I cringed at my own words. Damn, but everybody in our friendgroup knew how I got a love letter like every week from a new boy. " Why don't you ask one then?"

" That's the thing, I don't want to hurt somebody just to get my way. And I don't think I would be that comfortable with a boy I don't really - " "Then let me do it." My jaw almost fell to the floor. " What? " " Yeah why not? We know each other since first grade, you're my best friend and I would love to see that pissed off look on his stupid face." " Wow, uhm okay - uh let's discuss this while eating with Pansy and Mattheo, yeah?" " Fine for me."

We found our friends at the table in the hall, already eating. I told them how Theo would help me and asked for ideas, cause to be honest, I didn't have one fucking Idea how to do this.

" But let me tell you, I'm not in for the soft shit, that won't work on him." Theo said to our surprise. " Yeah that's my boy!" Mattheo cheered and shook his shoulder. " Oh I got it! Listen up!" Pansy said and told us her plan.

At the party

To say I was frustrated was understated. I did everything Pansy told me. I was close to Theo all the time, his hands around me, all over me. Which gave me such a hard time to concentrate on the real mission. We danced closely, he whispered words into my ear, making me giggle, but nothing worked. And If nothing worked, I had to face Theo's Plan for the night.

But let me tell you, I'm not in for the soft shit, that won't work on him. 

The party went well, but it got later and later and more and more of the students went to sleep. Theo kept giving me looks that were supposed to tell me it was time, but I was way too nervous. Another hour went by and it was just Pansy, Mattheo, Draco, Enzo, Blaise and some girl he had brought from Ravenclaw, in the room. They all sat by the fireplace, spread out on the couch and floor. There where 2 couches, one with Blaise and his new girl and Draco on it. On the floor Enzo and Pansy. Mattheo sat on the second couch.

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Blaise close with a brunette, her sitting on his lap and giggling. My whole body got hot from anger.

I searched for one specific person in the room. And when I saw him, our final plan was set. Firewhiskey in my hand, i emptied like a pro the set my nerves free.

I rushed towards my best friend and grabbed him by his shirt, dragging him with me to the couch Mattheo sat on before he could even think about it. " Woah, not that I'm complaining or anything but what has gotten into you?" he asked.

" Do you see that?" I said and stopped. I nodded over to Blaise and the girl, who was whispering something into his ear. " What the fuck.." Theo said in confusion. "I know! That fucker has the audacity to ghost me all day and then this shit? No no no. Definetly Plan B."

" And how do you want to do it exactly?“ he asked. " I want you to fuck him out of my head If he‘s not talking to me." Yeah, that was 100% the firewhiskey. But Theo didn’t even protest. We arrived at the couch and sat down together.

Pansy lit up a J in her hands and started to smoke. " Where is Enzo? He wanted to share." Kiara asked Mattheo after taking her first big drag. " If you want to I share with you." I said before thinking about it. Theo‘s head shot in my direction. " You sure? That's the muggle stuff, hits a little bit harder. "

" I want some too." Draco interrupted. " Yeah I'm sure. Give me some after Draco. " Theo didn't stop looking at me. He knew that I tried smoking a view months ago but he also knew that I didn't like taking drugs. After Dray took his first puff, he gave it to me. He coughed a litte bit. After I took it from him he lets himself fall against the armrest of the couch.

I took one strong pull, inhaled it deep into my lungs and exhaled it after a few seconds without coughing. " Wow that was impressive." Pansy laughed as she saw how I smoked without one little cough. I gave it to Mattheo, knowing he liked to smoke sometimes.

We shared it for a few minutes until it was done. I felt a hand on my thigh, playing with the hem of my skirt. I looked at Theo who already looked at me and lowered his head to my ear.

 " You know I would love to have you all for myself but do you think that's a good idea? What If it does not work and you regret it?" I got closer to his face, almost touching his lips with mine. " Then I'm so done with him. I tried everything, and every time he finds a way to fuck it up, so yes Theo, I am sure. And If you don't want to take me upstairs and fuck my soul out of my body I will find someone else to do it, so? " He licked his lips and scanned my whole face to make sure If I'm 100 percent sure. 

" Distruggerò il tuo piccolo corpo perfetto, principessa. " ( I'm gonna destroy that perfect little body of yours, princess. ) he growled smiling devilish. "I still can speak italian, Theo."

He slammed his lips into mine and put his hands all over my body. I moaned into his mouth, which turned him on even more. He scooped his hands under my ass and sat me on his lap, where I could feel how hard he already was. " Did my words affect you that much huh?" I smiled at him which he just returned with pressing his hips into mine even more. 

" One part of me hopes it all works out and you get happy and shit, the other part of me hopes he stay's an idiot so I can have you to myself. " he admitted quiet, just for my ears to hear.

" You love the affect you're having on me right?" I just nodded with my head and started to grind painfully slow on him. To be honest after smoking that J with them, I kind of lost my shame, knowing they were probably knocked out already, which means they didn't give a fuck about me and Theo grinding on each other. I couldn't see Blaise’s face as my back was in front of him, but I hoped he would just feel as angry as I did. I swung my hair over my shoulder, where I saw Pansy and Draco getting out of the common room, Pansy winking at me.

" Continue doing that and I'm gonna fuck you right in front of him." " You wouldn't" I dared him, but I should have known better to be honest.

He grabbed me by my waist and crashed me with my back into the couch, getting on top of me. " What did you say?" I smiled sheepishly at him as he lowered his head to my neck where he started to place soft kisses all over my already hot skin. " Okay lovebirds, I'm gonna go and find Enzo." Mattheo said, being the only one left. " Have fun y/n. " he smiled and winked at me just like Pansy did. While Theo started to place his hand slowly under my skirt I turned my head in Blaise’s direction.

That son of a bitch started to make out with her, hands on her ass but his eyes concentrated on me. I moaned loud enough for him to hear as Theo's second hand wrapped around my neck. Blaise groped that girl harder, pressing her hips against his, never losing eye contact with me.

Funny thing was, I knew he didn't enjoy it that much, you could see it on his face. Me on the other hand, I really was enjoying myself. Theo knew all the right spots on my body, even tho a few hours ago I wished it was Blaise instead. I hissed when he sucked on my left boob, which was almost exposed due to my excuse of a top.

My eyes fixed on Blaise again, until Theo turned my head to his face. " How far do you want me to go ? Because I meant what I said, I would fuck you into this couch for hours while he's watching." he asked a little bit quieter. My breathing was heavy, clearly turned on. " Fuck I don't know. He's watching me the whole time I don't think he's gonna keep that facade up for long." " That was not my question, amore." " I trust you Theodore." For a moment I looked at him and saw my best friend again. " But If he doesn't stop it with her, I won't too. So do whatever you want." I smiled at his expression, completely turned on by now and ready to give it all.

" You're gonna regret that." he whispered against my lips before he took my lip between his teeth, making me moan and shake. I closed my eyes and tried not to think too much of Blaise anymore. If he wanted me, he would say something, but I'm not the one who's gonna back down.

"Sei proprio un puttana per me." ( You are such a little whore for me. ) I smiled at his dirty words.

His right hand was already under my skirt, his left hand now cupped my left boob under my top, playing with my nipple. " Fuck Theo, please." I whimpered, arching my back. My hands wandered under his shirt and over his hard abs. Damn, he really was made by the gods.

At that point Blaise was long forgotten and my longing for Theo got bigger by any second. " What do you want, principessa? " His right hand left my skirt to pull my top completely down, so anyone who would pass by, could see me half naked. His lips wandered just above my right nipple. " What do you want, y/n?" he asked again. " Y-your mouth.. want your mouth o-on me - oh yes." I groaned as he wrapped his plump lips around my nipple, sucking and licking it. He was so good at what he did, I almost didn't notice Blaise standing up und leaving the fireplace. 

Theo did too and stopped to my dismiss. " Do you want to stop?" he asked, out of breath, clearly turned on too. " Hell no, I want you to fuck me Theo, please." " Shit I love it when you beg, beg more and maybe I'm gonna give you what you want."

I swallowed all my pride and let go. " Please fuck me Theo, I want to feel you. I wanna feel your lips all over me, please. I'm so hot I can't take it anymore. Just do something." That was all he needed to hear from me. He janked my skirt down my legs and threw it across the place.

His face now in front of my throbbing pussy. " Fuck, you're all wet, just for me huh?" He pressed his lips against my clit, covered by my panties. My brain stopped working from there on. " You smell so fucking good. Such a little slut, letting me touch you in the middle of the common room. You like that? You like the risk at getting caught? " He teared my panties apart and threw them to my skirt. " Theo! They were new!" I frowned.

" After that we're gonna sneek out tomorrow and I'll buy you everything you want as long as you wear it only for me." I nodded and whimpered again as his head came closer and closer to my heat. I wiggled in his grip, crazy for some kind of friction. Finally he started to lick my pulsing clit in a fast rhythm, making me scream his name. " Shit, just like that! " I gripped his soft hair, pressing his face harder into my pussy.

" I wish you would have asked me sooner to help you, your pussy tastes so good I never want to taste something else in my entire life." he mumbled against my hot skin. My heart throbbed too at his words. Not long after that, he started to suck hard on my clit, fingering my hole to prepare it.

My stomach twisted and I felt a strong feeling inside of me. He must have felt it too 'cause he moved his mouth and fingers even faster now. " Are you coming? Fuck, come on my tongue baby, please." he whimpered slightly which gave me the rest and so I came hard, my whole body twitching snd shaking again. He groaned at the taste and pulled himself up again, smiling at me. " That was good?" he asked and kissed me before I could answer, making me taste myself on his lips.

I felt him again against my leg. " I want to make you feel good too." I whispered as my hand slid down his jeans, pressing it against him. He groaned and the feeling, letting his head fall down. With my other hand I opened his Jeans and pulled it down with his help.

" I'm so hard because of you. Can't even think about something else but fucking you into this couch all night long. " " Then do it, fuck me stupid." I said grinning.

He took off his boxer and positioned himself at my entrance. He looked at me to make sure I was ready. "Please, can't wait any longer too." He rubbed his tip against my clit, which was still sensitive from my last orgasm. "Hmm Theo, I need you inside of me, now."

"Turn around, I want to fuck you from behind. Wanna see that ass." I turned around and got on all fours. " Yeah just like that.. now ass up and face down principessa." I did as he told me and waited for his touch again.

" God I wish I could frame this sight right into my head forever." he mumbled and took his cock into his hands, rubbing it against my clit again, spreeding all the wetness. I inhaled sharply as he pressed his cock into me. I wrapped my arms around the cushions beside my head, moaning loudly. " Fuck yes, that tight little pussy feels so good, all for me, right?" he asked me but I was so knocked out inside my head that I didn't answer. Until I felt a sharp sting on my ass. He fucking slapped my ass, making me moan again. "Yes!"

" Shit, you like that? " he slapped my ass again, harder this time and started moving faster, making my ass slap against his hips. I screamed at the feeling of him reaching my g spot." Oh my god yes Theo, right there!" He fucked me like there was no tomorrow, wrapping his hand around my throat and pressing his cheek against mine.

" I want you to never look or even think of that motherfucker again, you understand? It's me who fucks you like this. It's me whose name you're screaming into the cushions which are laying on the couch, that I'm fucking you right now into. Every time from now on you come to me If you want your tight little pussy fucked. Do. You. Under. Stand?" he asked with each thrust. 

" Oh bella I feel you squirming around my cock, are you close again? Did that turn you on? You like being manhandled like that?" "Hmm y-yes please make me come again. I need it so bad." I knew I couldn't hold it for any longer. I was so close to my second orgasm.

" Beg me to cum baby, come on. Beg me and I'll let you come so hard you'll see stars." I was away just a few moment from my high, feeling it in my stomach again. " Oh my god Theo please fuck me! Make me cum p-please!" " Who is making you cum baby ? Tell me! Scream as loud as you can, that bastard shall hear  you coming on my dick." He started to draw circles on my clit and tightened his hand around my throat which pushed me over the line a second time. " It's you Theo, it was alway you, fuck!" I cried out.

My orgasm hit me so hard, that I in fact, saw black and little stars before my eyes. " Mgh fuck- I'm gonna fucking explode all over you. " I clenched around him which made him finally cum. " Fuuck.." he let his head fall in my neck und jerked his cock in his hand until he came all over my ass and back. He had cum on his fingers, holding it in front of my mouth. " Open up, amore."

I did as he told me to and opened my mouth, sucking on his cum covered fingers. His lips slightly parted as he watched me. " I am so not ready with you. Next round's in the shower. " he smirked as he wiped his cum off me with his shirt.

" I meant what I said, it was always you. " I said softly, hoping he would finally admit his feelings for me. " Really? Are you sure it wasn't just so Blaise would - " " No Theo - " I started to turn around, facing him again. " I liked you way before Blaise, I was just scared that you wouldn't feel the same for me. I tried to forget you and move on, so I started this thing with Blaise. But my heart always wanted you. "

"Allora lascia che io abbia il tuo cuore per sempre." (Then let me have your heart forever.) He kissed me softly, holding my face in both his hands. 

"Ti amo." ( I love you. )

"Anch'io ti amo, cara mia. " ( I love you too, my dear. )

—

hope u liked reading it, thankful for every like. 🫶🏻

My request are open If you‘re interested.

xoxo sarah 🤍

[pucksandpower]

Pollinated

Day 11 → Sex Pollen 💋 Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+ content and dubious consent

Kinktober Masterlist

“You’ve got a stack waiting for you.” Alan leans on the edge of your desk, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He’s holding a bundle of envelopes, some thick with scribbled messages, some thin and printed with clean, crisp fonts.

Your PR officer’s eyebrows raise in mock exasperation as he shakes them at you. “How do you even have time to race with all these fans wanting a piece of you?”

You grin, setting down your coffee and wiping your hands on your pants. “That’s the problem of being so popular, Alan. It’s a curse, really.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a real burden. Everyone loving you.”

“Someone’s gotta do it.”

He drops the stack in front of you with a soft thud. “Take your time. I’ll be back in a bit.” His tone is teasing, but you catch the flicker of something more serious underneath, like he’s reminding you there’s more work to be done after this.

You roll your eyes as he walks off. You love this part of your day — the letters, the drawings, the fan art from kids who see something in you that makes them believe they can be here too. They’re always so personal, full of energy, like they’re rooting for you from their living rooms or school desks.

You flick through the pile, reading the familiar opening lines. Dear Y/N, you’re such an inspiration or I love watching you race! Your heart lifts as you come across a brightly colored drawing from a girl named Chloe, of you standing on a podium, arms raised in victory. It makes you smile so wide your cheeks hurt a little. You can practically hear the little girl’s voice, excitedly telling her parents, “That’s gonna be me one day.”

“This is what it’s about,” you mutter under your breath, running your fingers over the crayon marks.

More letters. More words of encouragement. A scribbled note from a group of university students who drove twelve hours just to see you race last season. A letter from an older woman who says she’s been watching F1 since her husband introduced her to it in the ‘70s and how proud she is to see a woman making waves. You pause at that one, your chest swelling. You’ll have to write her back.

You reach for the next envelope, a bit plainer than the others. No stickers, no hand-drawn doodles in the margins. It’s simple, just your name written on the front in neat black ink. Your gut tugs slightly, but you brush it off. Not every fan is an artist.

You open it, pulling out a card with a printed picture of a car on the front. Your car. You smile, flipping it open to read the message inside.

But your smile fades as you start to read.

You don’t belong here.

The words are bold, black, and stark against the white paper. They stand out like a punch to the gut, each line colder and more hateful than the last. The handwriting is meticulous, like whoever wrote it wanted to be sure you’d understand every word.

Women like you are ruining the sport.

Your throat tightens. Your fingers grip the edges of the card a little harder than before, the edges bending under the pressure.

Go back to doing what you’re good at: nothing.

You try to swallow, but it feels like there’s a knot lodged in your throat. It’s not the first time you’ve seen something like this. Hell, it’s not even the worst thing anyone’s said. But right now, it’s too sharp, too specific, too venomous.

You reach up to close the card, your hand trembling slightly. But before you can fully shut it, something catches your eye — a tiny puff of fine yellow powder shoots from the fold, drifting into the air in front of you.

“What the-” You blink, confused for a split second.

Then, it hits.

A burning sensation spreads through your throat and nose. Your skin tingles, a wave of heat rushing over your face. You gasp, trying to catch your breath, but it feels like you’re inhaling fire. Panic spikes as your vision blurs.

“Alan!” The name barely makes it past your lips before you feel your legs give way beneath you.

“Alan!” You try again, but it comes out weaker this time. Your limbs feel heavy, your chest tight, and the room starts to spin in slow, nauseating circles.

Footsteps pound across the floor. Alan’s voice sounds far away, muffled, like he’s underwater. You catch a glimpse of him sprinting toward you, his face pale, eyes wide. “Y/N?”

Your body jerks uncontrollably, a violent shudder running through you. The room twists, everything turning hazy as you hit the floor hard, your fingers twitching against the cool tile.

“What the hell — Y/N!” Alan’s panic is sharp now, cutting through the fog. You can barely see him through the haze clouding your vision, but you feel him grab your shoulders, shaking you gently.

“Stay with me. Just stay with me, okay?” His voice cracks, fear bleeding through the edges.

Your entire body seizes again, every muscle clamping down painfully. A sharp cry escapes your throat as the convulsions take over, uncontrollable now.

“Help! Somebody, help!” Alan’s voice is frantic, desperate, echoing through the room as the world starts to fade. His hands are on your face now, trying to keep you conscious. You feel his fingers trembling against your skin, hear the panic rising in his voice as he keeps shouting for help.

But you’re slipping, sinking deeper into the darkness as the convulsions wrack your body. You can’t speak. You can’t move.

Alan’s voice is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

***

The world returns slowly, like surfacing from a deep dive. There’s a ringing in your ears, muffled voices blending into the constant hum of machinery. Your body feels like it’s on fire — each nerve sizzling under your skin, radiating heat. You try to move, but it’s as if you’re bound by weights. The sheets beneath you cling to your body, too warm, too tight, too much.

Someone’s talking nearby, but it’s distant, warped. You can’t make out the words yet. Everything feels heavy — your eyelids, your chest, even your breathing. Your mouth is dry, your tongue like sandpaper against the roof of your mouth.

Slowly, the fog begins to clear, and you catch fragments of conversation.

“… highly illegal substance …” A voice, crisp and professional, filters through. The doctor. “… extreme toxicity … very few cases on record …”

You try to focus, but the burning sensation inside you only intensifies. It’s everywhere — your limbs, your core, your mind. Like you’re being torn apart from the inside out.

You manage a groan, the sound barely escaping your lips.

“She’s waking up,” someone says, closer now. Alan? It sounds like him, but there’s a hitch in his usually confident voice. Panic.

Your eyelids flutter open, and the room comes into blurry focus. Harsh fluorescent lights. Sterile white walls. The sterile smell of antiseptic clogs your senses, a sharp contrast to the heat still coursing through you. You blink slowly, your vision sharpening enough to see Alan standing by your bedside, pale and jittery, his hand running through his hair in nervous strokes.

Across from him is the doctor, his white coat stiff and immaculate. He’s holding a clipboard, and his face is a mask of concern. When he speaks, it feels like each word takes a lifetime to process.

“… the substance she was exposed to … it’s not just any powder,” the doctor is saying, his voice measured but grim. “It’s a synthetic pollen derivative, known as Lust Dust on the black market.”

Lust Dust. The words sink into you, but you don’t recognize them. Your throat feels too tight to ask for clarification. Alan, however, doesn’t hesitate.

“What does that mean? What the hell is that?” Alan’s voice is raw, frayed at the edges.

The doctor sighs, flipping through the notes on his clipboard before answering. “It’s an extremely illegal bio-weapon, developed underground. It was used in several isolated attacks a few years ago, mostly in war zones. The symptoms … well, they’re brutal.”

You don’t like the sound of this. Brutal. Illegal. Bio-weapon. The words swirl around in your head, each one setting off alarm bells, but you can barely move enough to react. You just lie there, heat pulsing through you, your body screaming in agony.

“The pollen attacks the body’s nervous system,” the doctor continues, his tone clinical. “It acts as a stimulant, targeting primal instincts, heightening … certain responses. The most dangerous part is that, if untreated, the body will burn out within hours.”

“Burn out?” Alan echoes, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What does that mean? You mean … she’ll die?”

“Yes,” the doctor replies, his tone darkening. “In most cases, without intervention, the victim’s body will shut down. It’s a highly sexualized toxin. The only way to counteract the effects is through physical release.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. The words hover in the air, sinking into the room with a weight you can almost feel. Your heart races, your mind struggling to comprehend what’s being said. Physical release? The burning sensation in your body intensifies, like it’s reacting to the very idea of what the doctor’s suggesting.

Alan’s face pales further, his hand gripping the back of his neck in horror. “Wait, are you — are you saying she has to-”

“Sex,” the doctor says bluntly, not sugar-coating anything. “Yes. If she doesn’t have sex soon, she will die. The sooner, the better, to mitigate the damage the pollen’s already caused.”

A cold sweat breaks out across your skin, despite the unbearable heat raging inside you. The fire in your veins is consuming everything, twisting the doctor’s words into cruel irony. This can’t be happening. Not this.

“I … I …“ Alan stammers, clearly at a loss, his eyes flicking to you, desperate and terrified. “There’s got to be another way. Medicine? A procedure? Something?”

The doctor shakes his head. “There’s no antidote. The only option is the one I’ve given you.”

You want to scream. You want to cry. But you can’t do anything except lie there, burning from the inside out, unable to stop the panic surging through you as the realization sinks in.

Alan takes a shaky breath. “What … what do we do now?”

The doctor straightens, his voice calm but commanding. “The most important thing is finding someone who’s willing to … assist.”

Alan’s eyes widen in horror, but before he can say anything, the door bursts open and several members of your team file into the room — engineers, mechanics, staff. Their faces are tight with concern, and they crowd into the small space, murmuring amongst themselves.

“What happened?” Someone asks, their voice tense.

Alan quickly explains, his voice shaking as he goes over the details. The pollen. The bio-weapon. The need for “intervention.” Every word makes your heart pound harder, and you can feel the collective shock ripple through the room as the reality of the situation sets in.

“She needs someone,” Alan says, his voice thick with emotion. “She needs someone to …”

He can’t even finish the sentence.

The room falls into stunned silence. You can hear the soft hum of the machines around you, the ragged breathing of the people in the room. It feels like time has stopped, the weight of the situation pressing down on everyone.

Then, the whispers start.

“I’ll do it,” someone mutters.

“No, I will,” another voice pipes up. You recognize it as one of the engineers, his voice shaky but sincere.

“I mean, she’s our driver, right? We have to help.”

More voices chime in, each one offering, each one willing. The panic in the room turns to a frantic eagerness, as though everyone suddenly realizes what’s at stake. You can barely comprehend it — the idea that your team, your colleagues, are discussing this as though it’s just another task, something to be done to save your life.

Your mind is spinning, your body trembling with the heat still coursing through you. You want to shout at them, tell them to stop, that this isn’t how things should be. But you can’t move, can’t speak. All you can do is listen as the conversation grows more chaotic, more desperate.

Then, the door opens again, and a new voice cuts through the noise.

“Everyone out.”

It’s Max.

The room falls silent instantly, every head turning toward him. He stands in the doorway, his face hard and set, his blue eyes blazing with an intensity you’ve never seen before. He looks around the room, his gaze sharp, taking in the faces of your teammates, the panic, the confusion.

“I said out,” Max repeats, his voice calm but firm.

No one moves at first, too shocked to respond. But then one by one, they start to file out, murmuring to each other in hushed tones as they leave the room. You hear Alan hesitate for a moment, but even he doesn’t argue. The door shuts softly behind them, leaving you alone with Max.

You’re too weak to turn your head, but you can hear him walk closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He doesn’t speak right away, and the silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the soft beeping of the machines monitoring your condition.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Max’s voice fills the room. “It’s going to be me.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“No one else is touching you,” he says, his tone low, steady. “I’m your teammate. I’m the one who’s going to help you. Not them.”

You can’t see his face, but you can hear the resolve in his voice, the determination. He’s not offering. He’s deciding. There’s no question, no hesitation. It’s going to be him, and no one else.

And as the burning inside you flares again, you realize that part of you is grateful.

***

The air between you and Max is thick with tension, the kind that crackles in the silence, heavy with unspoken words. You lie there, your body still ablaze, the fire under your skin pulsing in waves, but something about his presence — steady, resolute — grounds you, if only just. You can’t move, can barely speak, but your mind races, half-paralyzed with the agony of the pollen and half with the strange anticipation of what’s to come.

Max stands beside the bed, his face framed by the fluorescent lights above, casting shadows that sharpen his features. He doesn’t look afraid, though you can tell there’s something behind his eyes — something that trembles just beneath the surface. His gaze locks onto yours, and it feels like he’s looking past the pain, past the situation, to something deeper.

“This isn’t how I imagined …“ His voice is soft, barely more than a whisper, as though the words aren’t meant to be heard by anyone but you. He reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours, tentative at first, like he’s asking permission for what’s about to happen.

You want to respond, to say something, but your throat is too tight, too raw, the burning heat still tearing through you. You manage the faintest of nods, your hand twitching against his, and that’s all he needs.

Max leans over, his face close to yours now, his breath warm against your cheek. His hand trails gently down your arm, his touch soft, careful. “I’m here, okay?” He murmurs, his voice low, soothing. “We’ll get through this.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, in that same quiet, tender voice, he adds, “Schatje … you’re so strong.”

The endearment rolls off his tongue like honey, and despite everything — despite the fire tearing you apart from the inside out — it brings a strange, aching warmth to your chest. Max has never called you that before. The intimacy of it catches you off guard, though you don’t have the strength to dwell on it for long.

His hands move lower now, brushing across your skin with reverence, as though you might break under his touch. You shiver, not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

“You don’t deserve this,” Max whispers, his forehead nearly touching yours. His voice cracks ever so slightly, betraying the calm façade he’s trying to maintain. “I’ve … I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he admits softly, his words a confession, raw and vulnerable. “But not like this. Never like this.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the feel of his hands on your body, the way he’s handling you with such care, as though he’s afraid of hurting you. And somehow, through the pain, you manage to relax just enough to let him in. Just enough to let him take some of the weight from you.

He presses his lips to your temple, a soft, lingering kiss, and you can feel the tremble in his breath. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Just let me take care of you.”

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the burning inside you dims, replaced by something else. Something warm, and tender, and utterly consuming. Max moves with purpose now, his touch becoming more sure, more confident, but never losing that careful tenderness. He’s cooing to you, whispering soft praises in Dutch, his voice like a balm against the fire raging inside you.

“I’ve always wanted you,” Max admits again, his words spilling out like he can’t hold them back any longer. “For so long. I just … I didn’t know how to tell you.”

His hands continue their journey, and despite the circumstances, despite the fire still licking at your insides, your body responds. Every touch feels magnified, every brush of his skin against yours sending a jolt of something deeper through you, something primal and desperate and… needed.

“You’re so strong,” he says again, his voice reverent, almost in awe. “So perfect. I don’t know how you do it.”

Your body trembles beneath him, not just from the fire that’s still coursing through you, but from the way he’s touching you, the way his words wrap around you like a soft embrace. It’s intimate in a way you hadn’t expected, the vulnerability of the moment stripping away any pretense, any barriers you might have once had.

“I’m here, liefje,” Max whispers, his lips brushing against your ear now. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

You don’t know how he manages it, how he makes something so painful feel like this, but he does. His hands are everywhere, soothing the burn, coaxing your body to relax, to give in to what you need. And with every touch, every whispered endearment, the fire inside you dims, just a little, just enough to let you breathe.

“I wish it was different,” Max murmurs, his voice thick with emotion now. “I wish this was … just us. Not because of this. Not because of …“ His words trail off, but you understand. You understand perfectly.

He presses his forehead against yours again, his breathing ragged, his body tense with the effort of keeping himself composed. “But I’ll do whatever it takes,” he says, his voice fierce with determination. “I’ll do anything for you.”

Your body reacts to him instinctively now, every nerve ending lighting up in response to his touch, the fire inside you blazing hotter but in a way that feels … different. Less painful. More like an ache, a deep, desperate need that only he can fill.

“Max …“ you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse, barely audible. It’s the first word you’ve spoken since waking up, and it feels like a release, like a crack in the wall you’ve built around yourself. He hears it, though, and his gaze softens, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice full of emotion. “I’ve always got you.”

His movements quicken, and you can feel yourself spiraling, the fire inside you building to a crescendo, but this time it’s not just pain. It’s something more, something overwhelming and all-consuming. You can feel him with you, guiding you, coaxing you toward the edge.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers again, his voice breathless now, his own control slipping. “I’ve wanted you for so long …“

His words send you tumbling over the edge, your body convulsing in a wave of pleasure so intense it nearly takes your breath away. The fire beneath your skin peaks, then suddenly, blessedly, begins to recede. It’s like the flames are being extinguished, one by one, leaving only warmth in their wake.

And Max is there, holding you through it, his arms wrapped around you tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His breathing is ragged, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself together, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t move.

As the last of the fire dies down, as your body finally begins to relax, you hear him whisper, so softly you almost miss it.

“I love you.”

The words slip out before he can stop them, unguarded and raw, and for a moment, everything else fades away. The room, the pain, the circumstances that brought you here — it all disappears, leaving only the two of you, tangled together, vulnerable and exposed.

You’re too weak to respond, too exhausted from everything that’s just happened, but Max doesn’t seem to mind. He holds you close, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your hair, your forehead, anywhere he can reach.

“I love you,” he whispers again, like he’s afraid you didn’t hear him the first time. “I’ve always loved you.”

His confession hangs in the air, delicate and fragile, but it feels right. Like it’s been waiting to be said all along.

As the fire beneath your skin finally dies out completely, as your body settles into a state of calm for the first time in hours, you let yourself fall into the safety of his arms, his warmth the only thing keeping the remnants of the fire at bay.

Max doesn’t let go. Not for a long time. And you don’t want him to.

***

Max holds you close, his body pressed against yours, his breath still coming in shallow bursts as the two of you lie in a tangled heap on the bed. The burning fire that had been searing through your body has finally been extinguished, leaving only a lingering warmth that feels manageable now.

But even though the pain is gone, even though your body has found relief, there’s still something… unfinished. A strange, restless feeling that hums beneath your skin, an ache that begs for more.

Max is quiet beside you, his hand brushing gently through your hair as he watches your face, his expression soft but intent, like he’s still worried, still waiting for some sign that you’re okay. But you can see it in his eyes — he knows. He knows it’s not over yet.

You shift beneath him, the subtle movement sending a ripple of sensation through you, and your breath hitches involuntarily. The fire is gone, but that need, that craving — it’s still there, simmering just below the surface. It’s not the urgent, desperate heat of the pollen, but it’s undeniable.

Max’s gaze sharpens, reading the subtle cues in your body. His hand stills in your hair, and you feel him shift beside you, his body tensing slightly as he watches you, waiting for you to say something, to ask for what you need.

You don’t have to.

“Oh liefje,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “You still need more, don’t you?”

Your throat tightens, and you nod, unable to form the words. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes — understanding, maybe, or something deeper. He doesn’t ask if you’re sure. He already knows.

Max’s hand trails down your body, his touch feather-light, and it sends a shiver through you, your body responding to him instantly. He presses a kiss to your temple, then to your jaw, his lips warm and soft against your skin. “I’m here,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “Whatever you need.”

His lips travel lower, grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, and you arch into him, your body aching for more. He moves slowly, deliberately, savoring each touch, each kiss, as if he’s committing every inch of you to memory.

You can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips when he moves lower still, his mouth brushing against your collarbone. He’s taking his time, drawing this out, making sure every second is filled with pleasure, with tenderness. There’s no urgency now, no frantic need to cure the fire. This is something else — something deliberate, something intimate.

Max’s hands slide down your sides, his thumbs brushing lightly over your ribs as he lowers himself down the bed. His mouth follows the path his hands have carved, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You feel his breath against your skin, warm and teasing, as he moves lower, kissing across your stomach with slow, deliberate care.

Every nerve in your body is on high alert, each touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your fingers tangle in the sheets, gripping them tightly as you fight to keep your composure, but Max makes it impossible. His lips are everywhere, soft and warm and completely unrelenting.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “I don’t think you even realize …”

His words send a thrill through you, and your breath catches as his hands slide lower, his fingers brushing the curve of your hips. He presses a kiss to your navel, and you feel the heat pooling deep inside you, the need building again, stronger this time, more insistent.

“Max …” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he hears you. He always hears you.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers back, his voice soft, reassuring. “Just relax.”

You try, but it’s impossible with the way he’s touching you, the way he’s kissing you, like every part of you deserves his undivided attention. He’s worshiping you with every movement, and it’s almost too much to bear.

Max’s hands slide up your thighs, and your breath stutters as he spreads your legs wider, his eyes dark with want as he looks up at you. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he presses a kiss just below the dip of your waist, teasing you, making you wait.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. “Do you know that?”

You can’t respond, can’t do anything but arch into him, desperate for more. He knows exactly what you need, and he’s giving it to you slowly, carefully, savoring every moment.

Max’s hands grasp your thighs, and he pulls them apart slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s something in his gaze — something raw, something vulnerable. He’s giving himself to you completely, just as much as you’re giving yourself to him.

His lips trail lower, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin there, and your entire body shudders in response. Every nerve is on fire again, but this time it’s not the cruel burn of the pollen.

This is different. This is Max.

He pauses for a moment, his lips hovering just above where you need him most, and he looks up at you, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath.

You can’t form the words. All you can do is nod, your body trembling beneath him.

Max smiles, a small, almost shy smile, and then he lowers his head, his mouth finally, blessedly, on you. The sensation is immediate, intense, and you cry out, your fingers digging into the sheets as he works you with a precision that only he seems to know. His tongue moves slowly at first, teasing you, drawing out your pleasure, but it doesn’t take long for him to find the rhythm that makes your entire body sing.

He’s relentless, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, driving you higher and higher until you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel. The pleasure builds and builds, coiling tighter and tighter inside you until you’re sure you’re going to break.

“Max!” You gasp, your body arching off the bed. “Please …”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down. If anything, he goes faster, his tongue working you with an intensity that leaves you trembling. You’re so close, so impossibly close, and he knows it.

“That’s it,” he whispers against you, his voice thick with need. “Let go, schatje. I’ve got you.”

And then, with one last flick of his tongue, you’re gone, tumbling over the edge into a wave of pleasure so intense it almost hurts. Your entire body convulses, your vision going white as you fall apart beneath him, your fingers gripping the sheets so tightly they burn.

Max doesn’t let up, his mouth still on you, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re nothing but a trembling, panting mess. When he finally pulls away, you’re left gasping for breath, your body slick with sweat, your heart racing in your chest.

He crawls back up the bed, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he goes, his hands soothing over your trembling limbs. When he finally reaches your face, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing your hair back from your face.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft, reassuring. “You’re okay.”

You can barely nod, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your release. Max pulls you into his arms, holding you close, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back as you come down from the high. His breath is warm against your ear, and you can feel his heart beating in time with yours.

For a moment, everything is still. Quiet. Perfect.

And then, just as your breathing begins to slow, the door creaks open.

The doctor walks in, clipboard in hand, his expression unreadable as he takes in the sight of you and Max — sweaty, tangled together, your bodies still humming with the afterglow. He doesn’t say anything at first, just glances at his clipboard, then back at you.

“Well,” he says after a moment, his tone entirely too clinical for the situation. “It appears the cure has been administered.”

Max stiffens beside you, but the doctor doesn’t seem to notice — or care. He simply jots down a few notes on his clipboard, his pen scratching loudly in the silence.

“Residual effects of heightened libido may persist,” the doctor adds, almost as an afterthought. He glances up from his notes, his gaze flicking between you and Max, then nods, satisfied. “I’ll be back to check on you later.”

And with that, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving you and Max in stunned silence.

Max lets out a breath, a low, incredulous laugh bubbling up from his chest. “Did he seriously just …”

You nod, still too dazed to form a coherent response.

Max shakes his head, a small smile playing at his lips as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “Well, I guess we’re not done yet.”

And with the way your body still hums with need, you know he’s right.

[writingouthere]

friendswithbenefits!Sukuna x reader. Your friend Yuuji sets you up on a date with his co-worker to help you get over your recent slump, not knowing that his dear older brother had ended it months ago.

cw: none really, some possessive behavior

"He's really great though, I swear!"

"What does 'really great' entail, exactly?"

"Well he's nice! Like, super nice."

You waited to see if there was any more information and when there didn't appear to be any forthcoming, pushed your friend. "Yuuji, I'm going to need a little bit more than that."

Yuuji seemed to think about this for a second and as he did you snuck some dumplings off his plate. He'd taken more than his fair share of the take out anyway.

You loved Yuuji, he was one of the most genuinely kind people you'd ever met. He just happened to have terrible taste in men, aside from his own boyfriend.

"Well, when I got lost the other day, he gave me directions and they were super helpful!"

"Wait, did you find this guy on the street? Are you setting me up with a stranger?" It wouldn't surprise you, Yuuji tended to adopt human beings the way a normal person might adopt stray cats. You couldn't complain too much since it's how the two of you had ended up being friends, but it didn't necessarily mean that whoever he'd picked up off the side of the road this time was your one true love.

"No, no, he works in the school too. He teaches like history or something. He just teaches in the upperclassmen building, so I don't see him that much."

"So he gave you directions after you got lost in your own place of work?"

Yuuji either doesn't hear your tone or he chooses to ignore it. "Yeah, really nice dude. He's also good friends with Maki, so you know he must respect women."

That was actually pretty persuasive. Maki would never put up with any man who was a piece of shit, maybe there was something here.

"Is he cute?"

Yuuji scratched his head and tried to take some dumplings off your plate while you blocked him with your chopsticks.

"I mean I guess, he always looks kind of sad but you're into that right?" You blocked his attempts at stealing your dumplings with a little more aggression than necessary at that.

"I am not!"

Yuuji hummed unimpressed, chewing on the dumpling he'd managed to snatch away while you argued. Thief.

"He's like a little taller than me, pretty eyes and he's stronger than he looks. He actually beat me in some sparring matches last year when the teachers competed." You listened even as you scowled at the way Yuuji said all this with his mouth still full of stolen food. He swallowed and gave you a mischievous smirk. "He has really nice hands too."

"Yuuji!"

"They're big and his fingers are long but not too skinny, they kind of remind me of Megumi's-"

"Who the fuck are you talking about?"

You stiffened as Yuuji's older brother walked in, scratching his bare midriff since he seemed to have once again forgot that wearing shirts was an expected human behavior. Even though he was only a few years older than you and Yuuji, he always seemed larger than life. Maybe because you had known him for so long.

"Yuuta, this guy I work with," Yuuji said, pouting when his brother stole some of the food off his plate. Served him right. "Hey! I asked you if you wanted anything before I ordered it."

"And I told you, I don't want any of this garbage. I'm just sampling," Sukuna said as he popped another piece of chicken in his mouth.

"Go eat your stupid healthy food then and leave our garbage alone," Yuuji protested pushing the plate out of Sukuna's reach. Naturally, this led to Sukuna shoving Yuuji's head into the table as he reached over and stole more food off the tray in the middle.

"So why are you talking about Yuuta's hands anyway. You and Fushiguro finally call it quits?" Sukuna's tone was casual but you had once seen him knock out a guy for groping Megumi in a club. If the day came where Yuuji and Megumi actually broke up, you think he might take turns knocking sense into both of them.

"Mnat mor me."

"Huh," Sukuna said even as he kept Yuuji's face pressed to the table. You rolled your eyes.

"He's saying that he's not the one interested, he's trying to set me up with him." You tried to push down the guilt you felt as you spoke after all you had nothing to be guilty about.

There was a flash of something in Sukuna's eyes but it was gone before you could identify it and with one last shove that had Yuuji groaning, he let him up.

"That hurt, you bastard!"

"Not an insult, I'm literally a bastard," Sukuna said and Yuuji rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, anyway, back to helping you get laid-"

"Hey!"

"-I'll let Yuuta know you'll meet him at six?"

"Can you make it eight, only old people eat at six." Yuuji nods and goes to type something in his phone. There's an awkward silence that he doesn't seem to notice and you can't help but look at Sukuna who hasn't taken his eyes off you.

"Didn't realize you were so desperate," Sukuna says and Yuuji doesn't look up from his phone before throwing a punch at him. Sukuna dodges, his eyes still on you.

"There's nothing wrong with going on a date," you say and you wonder who you're convincing. "It has been a while since a nice guy took me out."

"Ah right, I forgot you liked nice guys." His tone is too knowing and you feel yourself flush.

"Stop picking on her, Sukuna. Don't you need to be going to the gym, anyway?" Yuuji asks, finally putting down his phone. He seems to attribute the current tension for you and Sukuna's usual animosity. You wonder if that's all there is to it. Sukuna scoffs and walks back to his room. You still weren't sure why he'd even come out in the first place.

"Whatever, you two have fun planning the wedding," he says, his tone making your hackles rise.

"Say hi to Uraume for me," Yuuji calls back, oblivious. "Tell them I still want a rematch after last week."

Sukuna waves a hand before shutting the door to his room. Yuuji turns back to you and the two of you talk about other topics while your mind wanders.

You weren't doing anything wrong. Were you?

You and Yuuji decide to meet up with Megumi and Nobara for a movie before you need to get ready for your date. While Yuuji goes to his room to change, you head to the kitchen to clean up the remains of lunch.

You're putting some glasses in the sink when you feel a warm presence at your back. You can't hold back your sigh as a familiar pair of thick arms comes to wrap around your waist and a pair of lips presses gently against your neck.

"I haven't seen you in forever," Sukuna murmurs, the movement of his lips against your neck sending a familiar pulse of want to your core. You tell yourself not to let the soft gesture get to you. He never did shit like this without a purpose and his usual purpose isn't going to be fulfilled with Yuuji in the next room.

"You saw me last week, Sukuna," you remind him before leaning away from him to close the dishwasher. His hands slip down to your hips and you just know he's staring at your ass. You roll your eyes even as he pulls you back to him once you're standing. His hands pressing into the curve of your hips, putting pressure on them in that way that makes you melt.

"That's too long, princess. I was getting lonely," he teases and you feel him smirk against your cheek. "You must be lonely too."

"Actually I'm just fine," you tell him but you tilt your head so he can kiss the skin of your face, your neck, the parts of your shoulders revealed by the stretched collar of your old t-shirt. You let him lull you into a false sense of security before he reminds you why that's a bad idea.

"Really? I just assumed you felt lonely and that's why you were agreeing to go on dates with losers you've never even met."

There it was. This was why you couldn't let Sukuna get soft with you. He never did it without returning your vulnerability with malice.

"Sukuna," you say and you go to pull his arms off you but he pushes you into the counter, you wince as the cold stone presses against your body. "Let go of me." Your tone is calm even as emotions band their way across your throat.

"I would, but you seem to get lost when I let you out of my sights. I mean you're going to go on a date with some high school teacher?"

"Your brother literally has the same job?"

"Well, are you going to fuck my brother too?"

"For fuck's sake, Sukuna, get off me!"

Sukuna does let you go but only so he can turn you to face him.

Sukuna doesn't get mad the way normal people do. Usually he's just amused, maybe even mildly annoyed, but blatant rage isn't his thing. After your years of-acquaintanceship? light antagonism?-friendship, you recognized this as the stage where he was about to make his insults increasingly personal until you needed to go cry in the bathroom later.

"We are not dating," you tell him and he rolls his eyes.

"Obviously."

"Therefore, I can go on dates with other people."

"I don't give a fuck if you go on dates with other people."

"Great, because I'm going to go on this date tonight."

"Good for you."

"Yes, yes it is good for me!"

"You seem really happy with your choices," Sukuna goads in that tone of his. You hate that tone.

"I am. I don't plan on just accepting whatever scraps some loser will throw me when there are actually decent guys who want a real relationship."

Sukuna narrows his eyes at you. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I wasn't being subtle," you tell him before leaning back against the counter. Going for casual, knowing you're not quite hitting it. "Don't worry, I don't hold it against you. You can't give what you don't have, you know?"

"No, I don't know," Sukuna bites out and if he was anyone else, you would think you'd hurt his feelings but this wasn't anyone else and there was no way something you said bother him.

"You're just not a relationship person and that's-that's fine, I knew that before we started this thing. It's just, sometimes I want more." You soften your tone from earlier but it doesn't do anything to relieve the tension between the two of you.

"And this, Yuka is going to give you that?" He sounds bitter and he's not touching you. You'd been the one to tell him to back off but you couldn't remember the last time he hadn't had his hands on you in some way when it was just the two of you.

"I think his name was Yuuta," you correct before his expression tells you this is the wrong step.

"Right, okay. You know what, you go on your date and have the best time with Yuuta. I got places to be."

He brushes past you and goes back to his room just as Yuuji opens the door to his.

"Geez, what's his problem?" He asks as he makes his way over to you. You shrug your shoulders and he takes your lack of response as just your normal discontent with his brother and wraps his arm around your shoulder. "Don't let him get to you, he's just a dick."

"I know," you tell him and you do. You know Sukuna's true nature better than most.

You two make your way out of the apartment so you can make your movie and you try to ignore the guilt you feel as Yuuji talks to you.

"You know, he's actually been in a better mood the past few months. I think he might actually be seeing someone. Can you imagine who would be crazy enough to actually date that asshole?"

new series? wrote this to get the rust off so we'll see.

[harryspet]

well kept [epilogue] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, kidnapping, NONCON/DUBCON, emotional/mental manipulation, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: a little wrapup of the story!

word count: 3.7k

In which you begin to question whether submission is the only escape.

well kept masterlist

8 months later …

Monotonously, you brought a wet rag across the large, rough-hewn wooden dining table that dominates the space of the dining room. It took you nearly thirty minutes to clean it thoroughly, wiping away every speck of dust before meticulously arranging the plates, napkins, and glassware with care, making sure everything was just as it should be.

It’s perfect when you get done. With a soft sigh, you flick off the chandelier of large glass lanterns, letting the natural light filter in through the tall windows, casting a gentle, golden glow across the room. You turn toward the kitchen, pulling off your cleaning gloves, ready to move on with your routine.

Then the doorbell rang.

You make your way through the downstairs of the expansive cabin, towards the front entrance. Glancing through the floor-to-ceiling windows as you make your way to the front door, you spot the culprit: a gray van parked down by the lake road. The sight feels out of place, a reminder of the outside world you rarely encounter.

Unlocking the front door, you huff as you pull the large piece of solid wood open. It always feels like it weighs a thousand pounds though you can’t recall Rafe ever having any difficulty with it. Still catching your breath, you greet the grocery delivery man, Connor, with a small smile. Before you, four-hundred dollars worth of groceries sits in plastic bags and you place a hand on your hips as you examine the challenge before you. 

“Let me help you carry them inside,” Connor offers kindly but you’re already shaking your head, “Mr. Cameron always tips so well, really, it’s the least I could do.”

“N-No worries, this is mmm-my workout for the day,” You reply, momentarily, taking in the fact that this was one of the few contacts you had with the outside world. Truthfully, Rafe had never explicitly said that Connor wasn’t allowed to carry the grocering inside but everytime you imagined Rafe coming down the stairs and spotting the two of you together.  If the young man wanted to keep receiving handsome tips from Mr. Cameron, he’d keep his interactions with you brief.

“Okay,” He seemed to shrug, confused, “I never see you in town … you work from home too?”

“Yeah,” You lie without hesitation, voice steady, “We’re just … homebodies.”

“What do you do for work? … Sorry if that’s intrusive. It’s just … this house is insane. You guys must be loaded.”

You laugh, and Connor shifts on his feet, smiling shyly back at you. To anyone else, the house in all it’s grandeur and isolation, must seem like a dream come true, “I help manage some stuff for Mr. Cameron’s business. I just help out where I can.” You hope it’s enough to end the conversation.

He still looks impressed, gaze wandering back to the cabin’s towering windows. As the silence stretches, you grab a few bags from the ground. He doesn’t immediately notice your discomfort, “I get it,” He adds, “Ya’ll are living the dream up here. Away from all the craziness.”

“Something like that,” You keep your face neutral until it falters. The slightest creak of floorboards from upstairs. Your heart skips a beat and you force yourself to grab a few more bags of groceries, “Well, I should get the ice cream inside before it melts. Thanks again, Connor.”

“I’ll get out of your hair, Mrs. Cameron,” He replied, though there’s a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, “See in you two weeks. Take care, alright?”

You nod silently, turning on your heels, determined to keep your focus on the task at hand. The rhythmic thud of footsteps descending the stairs grows louder, but you force yourself to keep moving, your eyes locked on the kitchen ahead. With a small grunt, you heave the bags onto the kitchen island, the plastic crinkling as you place them down.

Just as you spin around to grab the rest of the groceries, you collide hard with a solid wall of muscle, Rafe’s chest, unyielding like a brick wall. The sudden impact knocks the breath from your lungs, and you stagger slightly, instinctively looking up to meet his piercing gaze.

“Everything okay?” He asks, most likely taking in your wild eyes. 

Wearing a button-up checkered shirt that tucked into well-fitted trousers, you assumed he’d been taking some video calls and wanted to look presentable. 

“Yeah … groceries,” You said, gesturing to the kitchen island, “Uhm, C-Connor just dropped them off.”

“That kid knows how to linger, huh?” Rafe placed his hands in his pocket, tongue poking at his gums as he thought something over. 

Kid. Rafe was probably only a handful of years older than him. “He’s just doing his job,” you said quietly, your heart racing as you busied yourself with the grocery bags, hoping to avoid further scrutiny. Rafe followed closely behind, a silent reminder of his constant presence, his need to control even the smallest interactions.

It wasn’t like Rafe was resistant to helping around the house. He cleaned after himself for the most part. Honestly, you’d expected just being a house wife to be easier than being a personal assistant, especially easier than being a barista. However, Rafe’s mountain estate was enormous, and Rafe decided against keeping the full staff he had at his Charlotte mansion. It was like he wanted you to handle all of it, to be completely busy, and maybe you wouldn’t get any ideas about wanting more for your life. 

He hadn’t realized that you stopped wanting more for your life when you woke up, drugged from whatever he had slipped you, and found him tucked between your legs, mouth wet from tasting you. The memory hit you as you leaned down to grab the next load of grocery bags. 

Not able to separate you dreams from reality, you weren’t immediately sure whether Rafe was really in between your thighs. Eyelids heavy, only your mouth opened, a strangled moan left your lips. Lifting your head, you looked down with blurry, hooded vision. You never slept in anything silk yet underneath your fingertips you could feel the fabric covering your chest. Your right thigh was hooked high over your hip, Rafe’s hand firm in the crook of your knee, holding your leg in place as he kept you open. 

Even in your weakest state, his touch was commanding, and controlling. You were barely awake and the pressure he was creating didn’t fully register until you were close, the orgasm fully bringing you to consciousness. 

Reality came crashing donw like it always did when you woke in the morning. Your life wasn’t your own anymore. Usually, you’d at least have a moment alone, a moment that was still yours before you were back on his routine. But now, even sleep seemed like a choice you no longer controlled, another thing he had taken from you.

You started to register your own breathing, the way your chest rose and fell rapidly, just as he crawled on top of you. Shirtless, his eyes still sleepy but focused enough on the task at hand. He easily pushed inside of you, and as your breathing calmed and you came down from your orgasm, he pressed his chest into yours. Your noses touched together as he sheathed himself inside you further, “You’re getting so good,” He murmured, voice smooth and full of praise, “Taking all of me. Squeezing me so tight.”

You had no choice but to meet his gaze, your eyes locking with his, accepting the intimacy forced upon you.You wouldn’t cry this time, you’d remain stoic, and numb. Mentally, you could try to feel nothing, no matter that you felt him across every nerve on your skin. His praise hung in the air, and his presence consume you. 

It occurred to you then that you had no idea how you’d gotten here. Sure, you knew the mistakes you’d made that led up to this point. You knew the lengths Rafe was willing to go to, the power he was willing to yield, lives he was willing to ruin. 

You turned your head to look around the room just as Rafe settled into the side of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your skin. Your lips parted to yelp at each deep stroke, each time he pushed against your cervix, but your eyes darted around the space. You’d been here before, your crotch pressed against a pillow, when Rafe forced you for the first time to make yourself orgasm. 

Usually, Rafe was relentless. But as soon as you could put together that you were in his house with no idea how you’d gotten there, his thrusts became sloppier, rushed, and he nestled against the side of your face. His lips brushed your ear, his breath uneven as he spilled inside of you. The intimacy of the moment felt strange, almost out of place, as if he was in a hurry to finish before you fully pieced together what was happening. His weight sagged against you, and for a moment, the room felt suffocating. 

He collapsed beside you, though he kept an arm draped over your stomach. Slowly, you lowered your leg until you were laying straight. 

You didn’t dare move. 

Rafe’s hand brushed against yours and you turned your head quickly to see a concerned look on his face, “Here, let me do it,” You felt that numbness that had been clouding you ever since you realized you controlled nothing. He easily procured the bag from your grip and you watched as he easily took the rest of the bags into his arms. 

When you both retreated back inside, you heaved the massive front door shut again, locking yourself back into your gilded cage. Surprisingly, he helped you unpack the groceries. It would’ve been faster to do on your own, you had to direct him a few times about whether certain items belonged in the fridge or pantry but you tried to be thankful for the help. 

You were putting up the canned goods in the grocery, neatly stacking them on the shelves of the bedroom-sized pantry, when you felt his eyes still watching you, “He sure does talk a lot though, doesn’t he?”

Better not to use his name, “The grocery guy?” You swallowed, speaking slowly in order to keep your voice steady. 

“Connor,” He said, voice dripping in malice. 

“He’s j-j-just being friendly,” You said, trying to diffuse the tension.

“Friendly,” He repeated, his tone mocking, “... You know, I don’t like him talking to you.”

“I-I didn’t encourage it,” You said softly, knowing whatever words you had would be a mistake, “If you don’t like him …I-I c-c-could g-g-go to the store from now on.” 

For a long moment, Rafe didn’t respond, and you found yourself just trying to maintain your composure, canned goods forgotten in your hands, as you waited for his verdict. 

“What do you want me to say, sweetheart?”

You were forcing his hand, asking for too much when you knew he couldn’t give it to you, “Thh-Thhh-That you’ll think about it?” 

Lately, you’d been testing his boundaries. Not answering everytime he called. And when you did answer, your tone was flat and indifferent. Wearing clothes from your wardrobe you knew he’d deem unflattering. Yoga pants or shorts were okay, never sweatpants. He wanted to see your every curve. Every inch of what he believed belonged to him. You were his wife after all, he’d paid a handsome price to get you here. 

Your obedience occurred in waves. A few weeks on and a few weeks off. It was the best way your brain could cope with the control. He’d grow happy, content with your behavior and that’s when you decided to flip a switch. Sometimes, Rafe was almost reluctant to punish you. 

A thought crossed your mind. A way to gain a small ounce of control. Though it came at the high cost of satisfying his urges. You decided to beg. He loved to hear you grovel and degrade yourself. It’s one of the only ways he gets himself off.

“Please,” You whispered, your voice trembling. In your baggy flannel and sweatpants, braids tied back in a messy bun, you stepped forward. You wanted to sound weak. Even weaker than your stammer usually made you sound, “I’ll go with a bodyguard. I-I’ll wear my ring. I won’t t-t-talk to anyone.”

It surprised him. You saw it in the way he shifted on his feet and his head tilted to the side curiously. It was in the way he watched you carefully, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. The words were poison on your tongue but it didn’t stop them from filling out. 

“Is that right?” His voice was low and dangerous, how it usually was when he was calculating a devious plan in his mind. 

When the silence decided to stretch again, you filled it, “I’ll be better. I-I know I–I-I’ve been dissapointing you,” You closed the distance until you were inches from him, letting him look down at you, as you turned your eyes downcast. 

“Hmm,” You felt his hand raise and press into the side of your neck, large thumb caressing your jaw, “Then you know that’s the kind of privilege like that you’ll have to work towards?” 

Being trapped here with him felt like you’d fallen to the bottom of the totem pole. Somehow being his assistant, hanging on his arm like arm candy, and keeping his cock warm underneath his desk was better than what you were now. At least then you could see your friends. You could interact with people other than Rafe, Topper and Eleanor. Then you had a job. You were a real human.

“Yes,” You began, “I’ll d-do anything.”

Rafe’s eyes turned down as you reached one of your hands into the waistband of your sweatpants and then beneath the fabric of your underwear. 

“Y/N…” His voice deepened and you looked up at him with big, wanting eyes. 

“Can I please touch myself, Sir?” You asked, “I-I want to shhh-shhhow you how good I can be.”

He kept as still as he could. His eyes were answering your question. He didn’t need to verbally give you permission.Maybe he stayed silent because if he spoke, the desperation in his voice might betray him. Rafe didn’t need his own release in that moment—what he craved more was the sight of you undone, vulnerable, completely under his control. Watching you touch yourself, watching your eyes roll back in pleasure, was enough to satisfy him. 

You bit down on your lip, moving your fingers over your soft folds. Gently, you rubbed yourself, teasing yourself. His gaze didn’t waver, but you saw the the way his nose flared, as he tried to keep his composure. 

“Please,” A soft moan escaped your lips as you worked yourself up, the motions becoming smoother as you grew wetter, “P-Please, Sir?”

Rafe inhaled sharply and watched as you reached further, towards your aching hole. He couldn’t see it exactly but you showed him with your eyes, with your parted lips and soft expression, that you dipped a finger inside of your aching hole. 

Despite how you feared him, how he’d ruined your life, you couldn’t help but enjoy the twisted way that you could control him. The tension in the room was thick and you saw the way he was fighting against exerting his control over you, over taking over. Even in a small way, you could make him bend to your will, you saw it in the way his fist clenched at his side. 

Your pace quickened in a way that brought you closer to the edge, the friction sending waves of pleasure over your skin. 

He reached out suddenly, grabbing ahold of your arm, his grip strong but not painful. He pulled your fingers away from underneath your waistband, “You don’t get to finish until I say so,” he murmured, his voice low and authoritative. You kept your expression neutral, though every muscle in your face tensed with the effort to hide your frustration, resisting the urge to press your lips into a thin line, “Take off your clothes for me, sweetheart.”

Your body frustrated, you hurriedly pulled down your sweatpants, exposing your lacy black underwear. Next, you removed the flannel, Rafe’s eyes fixed on your newly exposed skin. You would never admit it, but deep down, you always felt comforted by the fact that never seemed to bore of seeing you. Though you’d never had a traditional honeymoon period, now that you’d lived together for so long, you thought he might lose interest at some point. Everytime he saw you it was like he was seeing you for the first time. 

Every glance he gave you was filled with that same insatiable desire, as though you were still something to unravel. The thought made something flicker inside you, a mixture of fear, and something far more complicated.

You hesitated when it came to your bra and underwear, suddenly hyperaware that Rafe was fully clothed. There he stood in his work attire and part of you wanted to hold onto those inches of fabric, “All of your clothes,” Rafe added, sensing your hesitance, and he didn’t let you stall any longer. You yelped when he grabbed you by the waist, swinging your body onto the cold, marble countertop of the kitchen island. Determined, his fingers pried your underwear down your thighs and you watched them fall to the floor. Your thin bralette was next, and you raised your arms obediently, letting him tug it over your head. 

As soon as you were bare and freezing, Rafe’s lips curled into a devious smirk, “Finish,” He said, “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

His eyes were dark and hungry, watching every movement, every breath you took. Your instinct was to resist, to deny him, but you were too far gone. This is what you wanted in the first place. A trade. Your submission for a chance at freedom. You didn’t test his patience, knowing this was a better option than being bent of the counter. You complied, your hand slowly sliding down your stomach, until they were back between your legs. 

Slow, deliberate circles. 

You were so used to the feeling of shame, the heat you’d feel in your cheeks, the tears that would sting your eyes. Freezing, like a puppy out in the rain, you trembled. The shame was almost ritualistic, something to expect everytime you were intimate. Your body always seemed to respond, anyways. Maybe it was time for you to fully accept your part in this. Maybe you were beginning to crave that feeling. 

Your pace quickened, your fingers moving in urgent circles, and you felt your release building. 

“That’s it,” He said, “You’re already close, aren’t you?”

You nodded, fully aware of the smugness in his tone. Your fingers worked and your moans became louder, “Please,” You begged, that pressure between your legs growing unbearable.

“Please,” You heard yourself say over and over, feeling yourself come undone. His hands slowly move to rest on either side of you, trapping you between the cold marble and his towering figure, “Please, Rafe.”

“Come, sweetheart,” He finally said, “Let me see you fall apart.”

A whimper escaped your lips as your orgasm hit you almost painfully. Your release was inevitable, you’d practically perfected getting yourself off, and your body responded to his commands like a pupper on a string. Your body tensed, your back arching, as you gasped over and over. Your fingers faltered, slowly, but soon there were fingers brushing against that sensitive area again. 

You tried to scoot your body away but Rafe pressed your thigh with his large palm, keeping you pinned. Slowly, he moved his fingers, prolonging that sensation, drawing out your orgasm, “There it is,” He whispered, “Such a good girl when you want something from me, huh?”

You nodded weakly, agreeable. 

As you realized he was trying to work you up again, you panicked, “P-Please.”

“Hmm,” His fingers pressed harder, “Look at you. You know what? If you give me one more, I’ll let you go shopping next week. How’s that sound?”

“I-It hurts,” You whispered, voice braking. A tempting offer that you were now too overwhelmed to even consider. His fingers didn’t relent, rubbing against you harder now, dragging you toward another release whether you wanted it or not.

“That’s not an answer,” Rafe teased, his tone almost playful. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, “Come on, one more. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Your body betrayed you again. The buildup was slower than your first orgasm, so torturous that tears began to fall down your cheeks. When your body was convulsing again, it was not as sweet as the first, but just as powerful. You came for him again despite how much it hurt, how raw and exposed you felt.

His grip on your thigh relaxed and you body went limp against the counter. You throbbed between your legs, so much so you weren’t sure if you would be able to walk without a limp. You felt his thumb brush over your cheek, wiping your tears, “Good girl. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Too tired to do anything but lay there, Rafe finally stepped back, leaving you shivering on the cold countertop. A coldness returned to his expression. You’d asked for this. Wanted something from him. Somehow, it felt like you hadn’t won anything at all. Now you were realizing this was a punishment, most likely for your behavior over the past weeks. 

Rafe turned his back on you, as if he hadn’t just pushed your body and mind to the brink, “Maybe I’ll take you shopping after all.” 

The promise of being let out of the house felt hollow. A reminder that your independence was something he could grant, or take away, on a whim. 

You lay there, motionless and speechless, trapped in the swirl of shame, regret, and anger. Then, without warning, a dangerous thought crept in, slipping through the cracks in your resolve: Maybe if I’m good enough, if I do everything he asks, I’ll get more freedom. More moments of escape.But before you could push that thought away, another surfaced, darker and heavier: Maybe I deserve this.

i hope you enjoyed this series!!

[moonstruckme]

hi author !!! if it is okay with you i wanna request a fic in the same universe as the Big Brother!Sirius one where in reader gets a (secret) boyfriend and then they break up or whatever u want i just want hurt/comfort 🥹

Thanks for requesting <3

big brother!Sirius + little sister!reader ♡ 996 words

When you hear the door to your dorm open, you assume it’s one of your roommates or Regulus coming to shame you for missing dinner, but then your mattress shifts with the weight of someone else sitting down and a familiar teasing voice says, “If you’re dead under there, everyone’s going to think it was me.” 

You peep your eyes out from under the covers. “How did you get in here?” 

Sirius isn’t even looking at you. He’s making himself comfortable at the end of your bed, both legs crossed under him and hair falling in his face as he unwraps dishes and utensils. 

“Reggie let me in. He seemed to think you might need some company.” 

“He’s such a narc,” you grumble. 

Your brother only snickers. “Sit up, I brought you dinner.” 

You’d much rather stay under the covers, but know Sirius would only wrestle you into an upright position anyway. He always gets his way. 

“Yikes.” He makes a face as you sit up, revealing your bedhead and swollen eyes. “You’re having a rough one, huh?” 

“Shut up.” You glower at him and take the plate. “It’s not that bad.” 

Despite your grumbling, a bit of vulnerability sneaks into your tone. Sirius softens.

“No, it’s not,” he agrees, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair away from your face. “We’re always pretty; it’s in the genes.” 

You can’t help the small smile that fights its way onto your face. This is exactly the sort of thing your older brother would say when Regulus was twelve and sulking over getting his first pimple or when you nearly broke down in tears trying to style your hair. Despite his tomfoolery and general ridiculousness, Sirius’ levity actually provided a voice of reason in your family, reminding his siblings and cousins that things weren’t always so dire. 

“Thanks for bringing dinner,” you say.

“No problem,” Sirius replies softly, as though worried his gentle tone will be overhead and his rapscallion’s repute thusly destroyed. “Is it good enough that you’ll tell me what’s gotten you so upset?”

You blink at him in surprise. “Reg didn’t say?” 

Sirius’ mouth twists, dissatisfied. “He didn’t. I guess I would’ve been more likely to find out if I’d just pretended I already knew, huh?” 

That makes you chuckle. “Probably, yeah.” 

“Well, come on. Now you’ve gotta tell me.” 

You feel your shoulders hunch inwards. “Do I really have to?”

“Yes.” Your brother’s voice is firm, but his eyes are hopeful. 

You want to tell him, you find. You don’t suppose any harm can come from it now. 

You eye him carefully. “I broke up with my boyfriend.” 

Sirius’ eyes pop. He nearly topples your plate leaning forward, like you’re back in your childhood beds trading secrets. “You were dating someone?” 

“I was.” You can’t quite look at him, focussing on cutting your meal into small bites. “Or I thought I was. It doesn’t matter. I’m definitely not now.” 

“Wha—how did I not know about this?” 

“Because obviously I’m not going to talk about my dating life with my brother,” you huff a laugh down into your lap, and you swear you can feel the force of Sirius’ eye roll burning into the top of your head. “No one really knew. He wanted to keep it private.” 

Sirius tilts his head, slotting a piece of his hair behind his ear. “Private in an avoid-the-gossip-mill way or private in a dirty-secret way?” 

You close your eyes, shame curdling in your gut. Even your idiot brother knows enough to be suspicious of something like that. Maybe if you’d told him all those weeks ago, you wouldn’t be where you are now.

“In the second way,” you admit in a whisper. “I, um, sort of assumed it was because of the first, and I liked the idea of keeping things private too, but it turned out he had other reasons.” 

You try to take another bite of food, but it feels soggy and unappetizing in your mouth. You set your plate aside. 

“What happened?” Sirius asks. 

Your face feels miserably hot. “He just didn’t like me as much as I liked him. He didn’t want his friends to know.” Tears burn in your eyes, and when you try to speak again they show up in your voice, too. “I feel really stupid.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sirius sits up on his knees, bending over you to fold you into a hug. His hand presses reassuringly between your shoulder blades, and you let out a little sob. “That doesn’t make you stupid, it only makes him a prat.”

You hug him tightly. “I just feel so silly being upset when he probably doesn’t even care.” 

“You are being silly,” he chastises, but there’s fondness in your brother’s tone. “Of course he cares. He may not be regretting things right now, but I’d bet ten galleons he will be by the end of the month. Trust me, babe, boys are idiots. We don’t know how to act, we almost never know what we want, and we’re ten times more likely to fuck something up if it’s important to us. Just ask Remus.” 

Your laugh is a soggy thing. Sirius rubs your back encouragingly. 

“So, what’s the sod’s name?” 

“Oh, no way.” You laugh even harder, pulling out of the hug to wipe under your eyes. “I’m not telling you.” 

“What?” Sirius throws up his hands. “But we were doing so well!” 

“I’ve handled it, Sirius. I don’t want you to go and turn his skin green or make him sprout nose hairs down to his chin.” 

A giddy grin. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Does Regulus know who it is?” 

You fix him with your sternest stare. Most other people would soil their pants, but because he’s your older brother, Sirius only raises a brow. “If he did, he wouldn’t tell you.” 

“That’s alright.” He steals a roll off your plate, biting into it insouciantly. “I’ll find out.” 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

june 2024 octa + 4koma manga updates

As a reminder, no Episode of Savanaclaw manga chapter this month ^^ And without further ado, some of the highlights (in my opinion) of the latest manga updates:

This month's cover page illustration features Yuuta and Grim marveling over a chess board (since at this point in the story they're camping out in Savanaclaw). If you look closely, each of the pieces on the chessboard represent the relevant TWST characters; there are two card soldiers (presumably one for Ace and one for Deuce), a wolf for Jack, a hyena for Ruggie, and a lion for Leona on the "white" side. On the opposing "black" side (fitting, since Azul will OB soon) are two eel pieces for the twins and one octopus piece for Azul.

We continue the adorable overly flattering Ace from last month's chapter! Sad to say that I, too, would be completely fooled by this act-- asbfalebqejdqo The older merguard is also very cute and enthusiastic. I love that the manga can give faceless NPCs and mobs actual eyes. It grants them a lot more personality and soul! We continue the adorable overly flattering Ace from last month's chapter! Sad to say that I, too, would be completely fooled by this act-- asbfalebqejdqo The older merguard is also very cute and enthusiastic. I love that the manga can give faceless NPCs and mobs actual eyes. It grants them a lot more personality and soul!

HECK YEAH, IT'S TWEELS tERRORISM TIME BBABY 🤡 Jade and Floyd got sooo many good shots this chapter????? Love that the second page above shows us just how long Floyd is + how the two genuinely delight in scaring our crew (RIP Ace, he looks so close to death's door when he seeks Jade and Floyd peeking at him).

These panels paint the picture of the chase and fight being very frantic for our crew, but really being a chill game to the Leech brothers. They definitely have the upper hand this whole time, and the art helps to convey that feeling!

(Side note: that face Deuce makes with the pinched mouth is also top tier 👌)

So this chapter is the one where Leona swipes the keys to Azul's vault and robs him of all the golden contracts. This results in many, MANY distressed, panicked, and/or desperate expressions from Azul... all of which are soooo delicious <3 There's a ton more than what I've included here (I picked some of my faves), I just couldn't include them all because of Tumblr post image limits.

THE SMUGZUL LAUGH?????? ?? ??? ?? ?????? ? HIS ANSWER TO THE OJOUSAMA LAUGH

Featuring: out-of-shape nerd (relatable) Azul fans fr feasting this update 🙏

RUGGIIIIIIE 🥰 He makes a lot of :3 faces that are just great!!

ANOTHER THING THAT CAUGHT MY ATTENTION WAS THE SHEER AMOUNT OF LEONA SMUG IN THIS CHAPTER I MEAN SEEING LEONA SMUG MAKES ME GRIT MY TEETH AND WANNA KNOCK HIM DOWN A PEG BUT WOW IS HE PRETTY LIKE THIS AUVYFB32T73RANfhbabfobiqrBI/.L;,'KJM;N GGRRRRRRRRRRRRRR I HAT EYOU KINHSCHPLAR I HATE YOU SO MUCH i'm gONA PUNCHHF YOU IN YOUR STUPID SLUTTY ,.,NAFCLAVICLE

anyway Anyway ANYWAY!!!!!! Azul is so close to snapping now, boys :)))) Soon... SOON, OB AZUL AND CHILD!OCTAVINELLE IN HIS FLASHBACK...

Now for 4koma news! This month features a comic about Epel playing Magift/Spelldrive and another comic about Jamil cooking curry.

My favorite segment from the Epel comic! Grim is peak cuteness here, love that he curls into himself to brace for impact, INCLUDING THE FRIGGIN TAIL.

HLBQVUFOQVIYFA; This part made me think of my Gordon Ramsay in Twisted Wonderland series, specifically the fish-themed installment with Jamil and Deuce; in it, Jamil plots on making a seafood dish to serve to Azul as revenge for the events of book 4. In the Jamil 4koma this month, Jamil sees Octavinelle and then considers making a seafood/fish curry with that smug-ass face in the bottom-most panel 💀 That's all for now! See you next month for more~

[chaotic-toasters]

Tunnel Vision

Arsenal Women x Teen! Reader

Thanks to @scribblesofagoonerr for helping me on this every time I got stuck (I got stuck a lot 💀)

TW: Graphic descriptions of injury and blood, allusion to a panic attack

----------------------

"Hi, Foxy!" you chirped, hugging the older American from behind. "Are you ready to kick Aston Villa's butt?"

"Hey, kid," she smiled fondly, squeezing you tightly. "I'm always ready. That reminds me, are you all packed for US camp next week?"

"Yeah," you responded with a grin. "I'm excited to see everybody."

Emily released you, ruffling your hair as everyone began lining up in the tunnel. "They're all excited to see you too, but let's focus on the match right now."

"Okay, Foxy." Just before you slipped into your match mindset, somebody else tapped you on the shoulder.

"Oi," the new voice whispered. "No hello for your old roommate?"

"Jordan!" you beamed, tackling the older girl in a hug. "I missed you!"

The Brit's smile was blinding. "I've missed you too, kid. We'll talk more after the game, okay?"

You nodded, hugging her again before stepping into line behind Frida. It was always nice seeing old teammates, but you had no problem beating them in matches.

-

With the score at 4-1 in favor of Arsenal, the gunners should have been having a great time. For some reason, though, your teammates wanted more. They were hungry for a bigger gap in the scoresheet, and it was messing with some of their heads. Steph was pushed up even farther than usual, Leah's tackles were unreasonably harsh, and Stina's shots were so powerful, it was almost like she was angry. The most noticeable change in behavior, though, was Alessia's.

The Englishwoman's challenges and touches to other players were far more fierce than they should have been, and some of the Aston Villa players were making a conscious effort to stay away from her.

You, on the other hand, didn't think the forward's aggression applied to you. That was why you didn't blink twice when Alessia sprinted towards you in the box, trying to open herself up for a pass.

It was unfortunate, to say the least. Most of the players on the field were crowded into the 18-yard box, so when Alessia accidentally slammed into your side, none of the players or officials saw it. Alessia herself didn't even notice, too focused on the ball and too high on adrenaline to feel just how hard she'd hit someone.

Play continued on as you went flying headfirst into the advertising boards, colliding with the signs with a sickening crunch, players too busy yelling and trying to push each other out of the way to hear or see. Not that you could tell. To you, the world was completely devoid of sound. The nearly sold-out Emirates Stadium was silent and dark, things around you terribly blurry and dim. You tried to pull yourself to your feet, but your hand merely shook on your chest as blood started creeping down your forehead. It was strange, you thought, how you could be bleeding like this, but not feel any pain. While debating whether it was a good or bad thing, you passed out.

-

It was Beth's scream of terror that caused play to die down. She'd taken up space on the wing, looking for a pass, but when she glanced up at the goal, her eyes instead zeroed in on your limp form laying in the broken pieces of the advertising board. The Englishwoman's guttural cry of fear had rung out over the roar of the crowd and instantly caught the attention of everyone on the field, and they'd all followed her gaze only to be met with the sight of you, a curtain of crimson slowly oozing down to your cheeks.

"What- what happened?" Emily's voice was weirdly high-pitched as Lotte tried to lead her away. "She- she was fine just a minute ago!"

"Don't look," the Lioness murmured, gently guiding the other defender away by the shoulders. "You'll just worry yourself more if you look."

But she couldn't. Your only American teammate at Arsenal couldn't help but stare as paramedics ran onto the field, surrounding you, talking quietly but quickly amongst themselves. She wanted to look away, she really did, but fear gripped at not only her heart, but her head. It forced her to watch on, to watch as you suffered and didn't respond to the paramedics. The fear was stronger than anything she'd ever felt before, and she was certain that it would be the strongest thing she would ever feel.

-

The gunners were evenly split. Half couldn't tear their eyes away from where the paramedics were lifting you onto a stretcher, and the other half were trying to get their shock-ridden teammates to look elsewhere.

Most of the players apart of the second half were successful in getting the others to direct their attention away from you, but there was one player who was stood inside the box, firmly rooted onto the pitch where she'd stood when the whistle was blown sharply.

Alessia. She'd realized what had happened as soon as she saw you. She may have only felt herself collide with you subconsciously, but she could still remember it. She could remember sprinting as fast as she could, tunnel-visioned on the ball but hitting you in the process, and it was as if she'd been tased with the terrible realization of it all.

She had been the one to push you. She had been the one to send you flying into the advertising boards. She had been the one to cause whatever horrific injury you had just sustained.

She'd been so focused on the game that she'd sent one of the sweetest and most innocent people on the team to A&E.

And for it to be you? You were only sixteen. You were always so happy and and positive, and now you were in bad condition because Alessia was too busy being greedy and wasn't paying attention to anything other than scoring.

As the paramedics carried you away on a stretcher, Alessia's legs gave out beneath her. Her breathing was rapid, guilt taking over every fiber of her being as she gripped at the grass beneath her. Some of her England teammates crouched next to her, speaking quietly, but she was too spaced out to notice.

What was supposed to be a simple match day had turned into a horror show. And there was no one to blame but her.

[freedomfireflies]

A-Mazing*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where you and Harry find yourselves lost in a corn maze together.

Word Count: 7.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, exhibitionism, size kink, Daddy kink, enemies dynamic, Harry being a little bitch 🫶

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Harry smirks as he turns to you, hands sliding into his hoodie pocket. “Gee, thanks.”

“No, I’m serious, I’m not getting stuck with you,” you argue, glancing toward the rest of the group that’s already heading inside the corn maze. “Seriously, please. Anybody else. I will take literally anybody else.”

“Well, you don’t get anybody else,” Harry snorts, much too smug for your liking. “You were late.”

“Yeah, and I was late because I was fixing your mistake,” you remind him. “It took me three hours to recode that sequence. And I’m still not finished—"

“Right, because it wasn’t a fucking mistake, Princess. The way I designed it was going to help it run three times more efficiently than the way Prescott suggested. And you just fucking undid it—"

“You weren’t asked to make it more efficient. You were told to do it the way the client wanted—”

“Well, the way the client wanted it was slow and stupid—”

“And you would be the authority on slow and stupid.”

Harry’s eyes narrow while his lips press into a thin line, looking quite incensed. “Very mature. Are we going in or what?”

“Fine,” you agree through a heavy exhale, shoving past him to head toward the entrance.

You have no idea why you even agreed to come in the first place. Sure, the idea of getting a few coworkers together for some fall fun was sweet, but truth be told, you don’t really care about any of these people outside of the office. You don’t care to see them, or get to know them, or hang out with them.

And the one person you do know happens to also be the one person you can’t stand.

Corn mazes are fun. Even pairing up to do them together is kind of exciting.

But with him? You’d rather get lost.

“All right, here’s your map,” the kind, older woman at the table says, handing you a piece of paper. “Answer the questions at each fork and follow the path according to your answer.”

You nod your understanding and offer a quick thank you before slipping past the tent and toward the beginning of the maze. The setting sun casts shadows across the field as you both make your way through the stocks.

You feel a sense of adventure as you make your way to the first checkpoint. Taking in the lingering scent of kettle corn somewhere off in the distance, and the excited chatter of the other people inside the maze. It’s exhilarating, and you feel a sense of purpose as you stride forward. Spurred on by a need to win – to do better than him.

And you hear Harry subtly huff from somewhere behind you, clearly annoyed with the way you’ve left him behind. “Real fucking mature,” he scoffs, and you can practically hear his eyes roll. “We’re supposed to be a team, Tinkerbell. You know, work together.”

“Well, I don’t want to be on a team with you,” you retort. “And we’ve never worked well together. As is evident by your complete lack of common sense and understanding of the system we’re trying to design.”

“Oh, this shit again—"

“Yes, this shit again. You’re costing us time and money by trying to prove you’re so much better than everyone else—”

“Well, I can’t exactly help it if I am, now, can I?”

You feel your expression fall as you spin on your heel to face him. “You’re fucking annoying, is what you are. It’s not my job to clean up after you. Okay, I’m not your mother, I’m not your babysitter. I am your equal. And it’s about fucking time you start treating me like it.”

Even in the dark, murky space, you can see a certain glimmer in his eye. One that challenges the frown on his face.

He studies you for a moment, eyes searching for a response. “Careful what you wish for, Princess.”

With that, he shoves past you and forges ahead into the maze. Leaving you to stare at his back with a glower.

You’re both silent as you approach the first fork, offering nothing more than looks of indignation and huffs of apathy as you raise your map and scan the question. 

“What does WWW stand for in a website browser?” you read aloud before snorting. “World Wide Web. C.”

An easy question. You both know the answer, and there's no way he can argue with you.

So, instead, he says nothing. Merely glancing over the paper almost skeptically before heading toward the third row.

Pocketing the trivia questions, you chase after him. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? The silent treatment?”

Harry’s back stays to you as he slips between the stocks. “I’m not giving you the fucking silent treatment; I’m not twelve.”

“Then why aren’t you talking to me?”

“Because you’re a fucking brat.”

The vicious way he sneers the word sends a certain reaction down your spine, but you brush it away just as quickly as it appeared. “I thought I was your teammate.”

“You said it yourself, we’re not a team,” he retorts. “You’re not my babysitter, and you’re not my mother. Unless what you were really trying to say is that you want me to call you Mommy.”

You feel yourself hesitate, confused, and slightly startled by the suggestion. “Ew. Why would I want that?”

You see his shoulder lift and fall in a shrug. “I don’t know. You’ve always been a kinky little thing. Maybe it gets you off.”

“Oh, fuck you, I don’t have a mommy kink. Especially not with you.”

“Fine, a daddy kink then. Don’t think I forgot how eager you were to say it last time—”

“That was for you,” you hiss, once again glaring at his hooded back. “Okay, I was trying to see if you liked it, and you did—”

“Of course I did. It’s hot.”

“Sure, yeah. But I’m the kinky one?”

“I never said I wasn’t. I’m just saying, if you want me to call you mommy…all you have to do is ask.”

You come to the second fork, forcing the conversation to a halt as you feel your heart hammer in your chest. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine.”

You unfold the map and search for the next question. “What is cynophobia?”

“Easy. Fear of cats.”

“That’s ailurophobia, you dipshit. Cynophobia is a fear of dogs.”

“Dipshit. Classy. No, that’s real nice, Tink. Very romantic.”

“Well, it’s true. Look it up.”

“Can’t,” he says calmly. Confidently. “There’s no service in here.”

“Oh, yeah? And how do you know?”

“Cause I’ve done this before. Many times.”

Your eyes narrow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“…why?”

There’s a brief pause before he says, “She used to love it here.”

Your heart instantly drops into your toes, grimace untwisting as you glance toward the ground. “Oh.”

Another shrug. “Point is, I can’t look it up. So…pick whichever. I don’t care.”

Swallowing thickly, you gesture toward the second exit. “B. The answer is dogs. My brother used to have it when he was younger.”

And for the first time all evening, it’s Harry’s turn to look surprised as he nudges his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You have a brother?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you learn that from my file?” you tease, and you notice his lips twitch up into a smirk.

“Not exactly.”

“Yeah, well…I don’t really talk about him. He doesn’t live here, he lives back home. After my dad left, he stuck around to take care of our mom.”

You see a flash of sympathy streak across his expression, but you’re brushing him off before he can comment.

“Anyway, it’s B,” you repeat, walking toward the middle row. “If you don’t believe me, then go your own way.”

For a moment, Harry hesitates, almost as though considering it. Then, he sighs, and begrudgingly follows your lead.

This time around, you’re both quiet. Listening to the sounds of everyone else further on in the maze laughing, or talking, or squealing with excitement.

A few scattered lamps help guide you through the dark labyrinth. You can see the wind move through the corn stocks. The way they rustle as they sway with the breeze, adding an element of eeriness to the already spooky scene.

Furthermore, the night air is beginning to grow cold. The fall chill nipping at your skin and reminding you once more that it’s no longer summer as you shiver and pull your jacket further around your body. 

“Should have brought a real coat,” Harry comments, almost haughtily, and it makes your eyes roll. “It’s October, Princess. Can’t wear booty shorts and flip flops anymore.”

Despite the fact that you’re wearing neither of those, you still feel the need to scoff, “Well, of course it’s not cold to you. You’re already dead inside.”

“Ooo, ouch. You got me. Sick burn, Tink. Real sick.”

His flippant response makes your skin crawl. “You are so fucking annoying, do you know that?”

“And you’re a fucking brat, do you know that?”

“I’m not a brat, I’m just right.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

“Yeah, it is whatever I say, actually. I’m the one with the fucking map.”

To prove your point, you wave the paper in the air before stopping beside the next checkpoint.

“What are the names of the four women on the show, The Golden Girls?” you read, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Uh…I know Rose is one of them.”

“And Betty White,” Harry adds.

“No, her character. Not her,” you huff. “And I’m pretty sure Betty played Rose, so that’s only one.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to help,” he scoffs before glancing over the multiple-choice answers. “Then it’s probably A or C. Those are the only ones with Rose in them.”

“Well, we have to pick one. Okay, we can’t do both—”

“Yes, I fucking know that, Tinkerbell. I’m just narrowing it down—”

“Well, maybe be less condescending about it.”

“Fine,” he nearly snaps, angrily stabbing at the map with his finger. “A. Dorothy, Rose, Blanch, and Samantha.”

“No, that doesn’t sound right. I don’t think they had a Samantha. It was…it was something else. Either Sophia or Sarah.”

“Well, you have to pick one. You can’t have both,” he repeats mockingly, and you begin to glare. “Besides, statistically, it’s more likely they switch up the letters with each guess. We’ve already done B and C. Next should be A.”

“Really? That’s your reasoning?”

“That’s my reasoning. Take it or leave it.”

And you don’t like it. You don’t feel convinced by it. But you decide – just this once – to put your faith in his incessant need to be right. To trust him and his judgment.

You nod once. A curt gesture of good will as he sighs gratefully and takes off toward the first row. 

An eerie feeling follows you as you trail behind. Perhaps an ominous warning to turn around. That something is about to go wrong.

At first, you shake it away. Equating it with your distaste for the man before you.

But soon…you see the real reason why.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you groan when you’re both forced to a stop by a dead end. “See? What did I tell you?”

“Fuck off, you didn’t tell me shit, Princess. It’s a dead end, not death,” he huffs. “We’ll turn around and try again.”

“Can we? We passed like two other rows and now I can’t remember which way we came.”

“Well, that’s not my fault.”

“Oh, bite me, Harold.”

“Just tell me where.”

You feel your heart race beneath your chest. Spurred on by adrenaline, slight fear, and the brisk cold air. “Can you please stop being so infuriating?”

“Can you please stop being such a bitch?” he replies cooly before his eyes flick down toward your shivering frame. “You’re shaking.”

“Yes, I know,” you grit through clenched, chattering teeth. “It’s cold. And don’t you dare make another joke about flip flops. I don’t have the energy to slap you.”

That arrogant smirk returns. “Cute. Told you, you should have brought a coat.”

“Well, I didn’t,” you hiss. “So can we please just get the fuck out of here before I freeze to death?”

Harry’s eyes roll, but you notice his grin grow as he sighs and lifts a hand toward the collar of his hoodie.

In one fluid motion, he’s slipping the sweatshirt up his torso and over his head to hand to you. Dangling the dark fabric between your bodies as you stare at it incredulously.

“Take it,” he grumbles, waving the material in your direction. “And don’t fucking say I’m never nice to you.”

Stunned, you blink quickly. “What…are you doing?”

“Just put it on,” he huffs, gesturing toward you again. “Cause, if you die out here, I’m not dragging your body back.”

Your eyelids narrow into small slits while you cautiously reach for the hoodie. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Once you’ve taken it, he uses his knuckle to shove his glasses back into position. “Like you said, I can’t get cold. I’m dead inside.”

You smile at this before pulling the cozy jacket over your head. It smells…good. It smells like him. Radiating heat and the faint scent of his cologne. 

Truth be told, it feels like a warm hug. Something you can’t imagine Harry ever giving you on his own. And a part of you feels…relieved. Relaxed and almost…enamored. Perhaps even grateful.

“Thanks,” you murmur, snuggling against the fabric before slipping your hands into the pocket. “You didn’t…have to. I know being nice isn’t your thing.”

He snorts, turning now toward the tall lookout platform just beside the dead end. “Whatever. Maybe we should go up and see if we can see the exit.”

“Okay.”

With that, he turns toward the stairs and begins the trek up. You rush after him, trying hard to see the steps without much light, and thankfully making it to the top in one piece as you begin to look around. 

It’s beautiful. Absolutely stunning, the design lit up by the soft glow of the moon. An almost romantic touch, although you shake the thought away. You can see a few groups spread out throughout the rest of the maze, but most of them are already making their way out. Having figured out the riddles much quicker than the two have seemed to.

You pout. “Nuts.”

“Yeah,” he agrees in a low grumble. “Okay, we’ll…we’ll turn around. Maybe you were right. Maybe it was C. We can try that next.”

It’s strange to hear him admit you could have been correct, and you can’t help but smirk as you nod. “Okay.”

You follow Harry down the other side, focusing your attention on your footing as you take each step one at a time.

But once you’re toward the bottom, your tennis shoe suddenly catches on a rogue nail, and you begin to stumble. Body falling forward before you can even reach for the railing.

Instantly, Harry – who’s already made it back to the ground – reaches out for your arms, slipping his hands beneath your elbows to help steady you and catch you just in the nick of time. Sparing you from a rather embarrassing fall.

You gasp as you’re flung forward, allowing yourself to settle in his embrace for support while you work on your balance and place your feet back where they need to be.

And once you’re sure you’re sturdy, you take a deep breath, and straighten up.

“Shit,” you whisper, lashes fluttering from the rush of adrenaline, and the feel of his touch. “I hate these shoes.”

You expect a snarky quip, but instead, you see his expression twist from behind his glasses as he glances over your face. Hands still glued to your arms. “Are you all right?”

A bit stunned by the soft and rather gentle tone of voice, you nod once. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m…sorry. I should have been looking.”

He seems confused by your apology but chooses to ignore it, instead watching you closely as if monitoring your reaction. “If you wanted me to hold you, Tinkerbell, you could have just said so.”

Despite yourself, you laugh, cheeks growing warm as you push yourself out of his arms. “Fuck off.”

“Fuck off? Or fuck me?”

“Ha. Very funny.”

“Maybe I’m not being funny,” he argues. “Maybe I mean it.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

You snort. “Harry, come on. This would be the last place to fuck.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why. What’s wrong with it? It’s dark. Secluded. There’s the element of getting caught, which I know you like.”

“Harry,” you repeat, almost doubtfully. “We…there’s no place to even do it. It’s way too exposed, and cold, and dangerous. We’d be better off just fucking in my car.”

“If we can even find our way back to your car,” he retorts teasingly. “Besides, I thought you liked danger.”

You gaze at him with suspicion, feeling that odd racing return to your chest. “You’re not being serious, are you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. I wasn’t at first, but…it’s not a bad idea.”

“Please. You can’t be that horny that you have to fuck me every time we see each other.”

“Okay, well, I’m not and I don’t,” he scoffs. “It’s just…different.”

“Oh, really? Why?”

Another shrug, but this time, he’s stepping closer. Those soft, green eyes dancing down your body as if drinking you in. Indulging in the sight of you. “I don’t know,” he repeats, a bit quieter. Thicker. “There’s just…something about you, in my clothes. It’s…it’s good. You look good.”

The look in his eye is primal. Breeding a new sense of desire deep within the pit of your stomach. You shift under his lustful gaze, fingers curling into your fist from inside the pocket.

“Thanks, I guess,” you manage to say, noticing the way he continues to move closer. “It is comfy.”

“Good,” he mumbles, still studying your stance before dragging his attention back up to your face. “And you’re warm?”

“Getting there.”

A short nod. “You know…there are other ways of heating you up.”

The sneaky remarks are back, and even though you can feel your legs squeezing together from the suggestive tone of voice, you grin. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He finally reaches you, fingers outstretching for the front of his hoodie. Moving up your chest almost innocently before slipping around the back of your neck. “Want me to keep you warm, Tink?”

And you want to tease him a little longer, make him wait. Suffer.

But he’s too good. He’s always been too good at catching you off guard and luring you into submission. The way he speaks, the way he looks at you, the way he pulls you closer with the palm of his hand. You can practically taste him. Can smell him everywhere. Feel him in places he’s not even touching you.

And you need it. You need him, you want him. Right now, more than anything.

“Yes,” you exhale, almost shakily. “Yes, please—”

He surges forward, lips connecting with yours almost violently. Stealing the rest of your plea before you can make it.

You can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but whimper as he sucks on your tongue and presses his fingers harder against your head. Trapping you against his mouth until you feel dizzy. 

And he’s so warm. A stark contrast to the brisk, autumn air. And he’s soft in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Inviting. As though he’s been waiting his whole life to lay his mouth to yours.

“Har—” you gasp when he pulls back to nip at your bottom lip. “Har, please—”

You sound deranged. Wounded, almost, and so goddamn pitiful. You’re tugging on his shirt, trying to yank him impossibly closer. Tilting to the left for a deeper angle and raising up onto your toes in order to taste him fully.

“Easy,” he whispers, and it’s so very strained. Like he’s using what little strength he still has to speak to you. “Easy, Princess. S’okay, I’ve got you.”

It’s possessive the way he talks to you. Commanding you to listen. Insisting that your pleasure is his. That your wellbeing is in his hands.

He’s not a caring man by nature. At least not to you. But in moments like this, his dominance takes control. Turning him into a desperate man eager to care for you. To protect you and keep you safe.

Perhaps it’s a more caveman mindset. The idea that he needs to look after you. That you’re his to keep and care for.

But right now…you adore it. Feel safe in the idea of submitting to him.

“Please,” you try again, breathless and desperate as you cling to his strong frame and beg him for something only he can give you. “Harry, please…hurts.”

There’s a teasing glimmer in his eye, brightened by the reflection of his glasses. “Yeah? Is it achy, Tink?”

You nod quickly, grabbing onto his other hand to slide it down your stomach. Right toward where you need him most.

And he lets himself be moved, watching with intrigue at the way his fingers are dragged toward your thighs. Smirking rather sadistically while pressing his palm against your pussy with fervor.

You whine at the subtle friction, already attempting to grind down against the heel of his hand as he meets your pace with soft strokes of his own. 

“There you go,” he murmurs, watching your hips before returning his attention to your face. “Feels good, baby, yeah? Like to use me, don’t you?”

Another quick nod, and you sigh contently when he presses his lips to your cheek. Placing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“Har,” you try again, nuzzling closer. “Har, they’re…they’re gonna see. Can’t…can’t do it here—”

“Yes we can,” he replies calmly. And the soft, secure tone of voice instantly turns your insides to jelly. “Promise I won’t let them see, okay? Gonna keep you to myself.”

He removes his hand from your pussy to place it on your hip. Guiding you back until you feel your body connect with something hard. You glance around just long enough to find that it’s the wooden frame of the lookout. And he keeps you trapped there as he hides you both beneath the structure, tucking you away from any prying eyes that might pass.

“There,” he says, grinning to himself at the eager look on your face. “Now Daddy can see just how wet you really are, hm?”

You can tell he’s using the nickname sparingly. Tentative of your reaction as he waits to see how you might feel about it.

And truthfully, you hadn’t anticipated liking it as much as you do. Especially in this moment, when he’s giving you everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s like music to your ears, orgasmic just to listen to.

You swallow thickly and nudge your nose against his cheek. “Yes, Daddy.”

He tenses beneath your touch, cursing against the shell of your ear before he whispers, “Show me.”

He returns his hand to yours, allowing your fingers to interlock as you shakily guide him toward your jeans. 

After a bit of maneuvering, you get the zipper down, and help slip his hand inside your underwear. Straight down to your cunt as his fingers glide through your folds until he can find what he’s looking for. 

“Oh, Tink,” he coos almost sympathetically. Stroking your pussy as you move to grip his wrist excitedly. “S’all wet, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you mumble, leaning your head back against the wooden board for stability. “Hurts.”

“I bet,” he tsks, sliding his middle finger toward your hole. Circling it once before glancing over your expression. “Need something to fill you up, hm? Get you warm again?”

You hum your agreement, tugging his touch further into you as he chuckles and steps closer. “Please…”

“What, baby? What do you need?”

You whimper again and roll your hips against his fingers. Needing the friction of his thumb against your clit which he refuses to give you.

“What do you want, hm?” he mumbles, dipping down to ghost his lips across yours. “Just ask…and Daddy will give you anything you want.”

And in this moment, you know he means it.

“Want you…to fuck me,” you exhale, reaching now for the curls lying against the back of his neck. “Please, Har. Need you to fuck me. Make it better. Make it go away.”

“Is that right?” He slips a finger inside, and you feel your insides twist as you gasp and squirm against the pleasurable touch. “Need something bigger, yeah?”

“Yes…yeah. Please. Please, Daddy.”

He smiles again before slipping his hand from inside your jeans to help tug them down your legs. Yanking almost furiously until they’re settled near your ankles. Allowing him just enough room to slip between.

And once your cunt is on display for him, he stares at it with a certain mesmerized admiration. Allowing himself to enjoy you before he reaches for his own belt and tugs it free.

Once he’s managed to pull his cock out, he reaches again for your hips. Squeezing them once before turning you around.

His arm slips around your middle to keep you secure and you grin lazily as you rest yourself against his chest.

“Gonna hold you, just like this,” he whispers against your cheek, and you feel the tip of his cock trailing against the curve of your ass. “Keep you warm.”

The hand against your ribcage is gentle. Keeping you steady as he attempts to hold you close.

“Deep breath, Tink, okay?” he instructs next, nudging the crown against your dripping hole. Warning you of his next step. “Know it’s a lot, but you always take me so well, don’t you? Gonna take me again?”

You grab onto his arm, nails scraping down his skin as you whine, “Yes. Yes, I’ll take you. Just need it, Har, please—"

“Okay, all right,” he shushes, nudging his cheek against your temple. “Need you to relax, okay? Are you relaxed, baby?”

And you think you are. Mentally, anyway. You’ve never felt so comfortable in someone’s arms. Under their influence and control. Even despite the cold air nipping at your thighs and the outside threat of getting caught, you feel at ease. Adrenaline coursing through your veins as the sounds of people somewhere else in the maze float toward you. Reminding you of where you are. What could happen.

“Tink,” he warns, sliding his cock through your folds in wait. “I need you to relax for me, okay? I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“No?” you manage to retort, and you catch his smile out of your peripheral. “Thought you liked to hurt me.”

 “I do,” he agrees, lips following the shell of your ear. “But not like this. Don’t wanna split you in half.”

“Maybe I want you to,” you breathe, reaching back for his neck. “Maybe I need it, Daddy.”

He chuckles almost darkly before pressing his mouth against your heated skin. “I’ll remember that.”

With that, he drops his hand down to your cunt, circling his fingers around your clit until he feels your body unwind. Allowing him just enough room to begin pushing his cock in.

“There you go,” he sighs, both of you groaning when you feel how easily he slips in. “So fucking good. Take me so well, don’t you? Always do, I know. Relax, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

The burn is almost overwhelming. Demanding your focus and attention as you feel him stretch you open, forcing your walls to accommodate his size.

“Hey,” you hear him murmur, his palm coming up to cup your jaw. Thumb sweeping across your parted lips. “Are you breathing? Gotta breathe, Tink, come on. You know better—”

“I know,” you gasp, sucking in a greedy gasp for air before you suck in his finger. “I know, Daddy, m’sorry.”

He hums his approval before allowing himself to sit inside your warm mouth. “It’s okay, know it feels good, hm?”

“Mhm,” you agree around the large digit, allowing your tongue to settle him on your tastebuds. “More.”

“More?” he repeats, using his other hand to squeeze your hip. “Want more, greedy girl?”

“Please…”

“Please," he echoes thoughtfully. "Greedy Girl has manners, how precious.”

There’s a slight air of condescension and teasing to his response, and you feel yourself flutter around his length.

His grin grows. “You like that, baby?”

You manage one more weak nod as you press yourself against his body, squirming in his hold while his cock pushes in to the hilt.

“There,” he exhales, groaning some before falling still. Allowing your body to adjust to his size. “You okay?”

“Yes…yes, m’okay. Please move, please…please, Daddy—”

“Okay, all right,” he agrees coarsely, readjusting his stance before returning his arm to your stomach. Just beneath your chest. “Need you to be good, okay? Just listen to Daddy’s voice and do what I say.”

“I will. I will, I promise.”

“Good.” He begins to pull back. Dragging his cock through your quivering hole as you moan his name.

But such a loud noise isn’t quite what he had in mind, his other palm reaching up to smack across your mouth to silence you.

“Uh-uh,” he grunts, pausing the rhythm of his hips until he’s sure you’ll obey. “None of that. M’keeping you for myself, remember? Can’t let them know.”

You make an incoherent noise against his hand before writhing back against his cock. Needing more friction and movement that he refuses to give you.

“Unless that’s what you want, Greedy Girl,” he whispers into your neck. “Want them to see what I do to you. The way I make you fall apart…the way you beg for my cock. Even when you hate me.”

The idea sends a shiver down your spine as you groan his name and claw at his wrist.

“Is that what you want?” he murmurs between sharp thrusts. “S’it why you keep this pretty pussy so nice and tight for me? Cause you want them to know that it’s only me? That everything…everything…you do is because of me?”

Your eyes roll back, either from annoyance or pleasure. But it’s blissful, this feeling. This hard fuck, this angry connection. 

And yet, this infuriating man is oddly tender with you. Holding you close and helping you find your release, despite the way he goads you.

“Do you, Tink?” he asks again. “Do you want Lucas to see? Want them all to fucking see what you do to me?”

His nails are scraping down your ribcage, pulling you taut against his chest as he drives his cock as deep as it’ll go. Hips meeting your ass as he releases your mouth to hold onto you again, keeping you still.

“Tell me,” he says between deep breaths. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you only cum for me—”

“Har—”

“My greedy little whore. My dirty fucking princess.” His tone is angry. Dissolving into something feral as he begins to pound into you with a harder force. Nearly knocking the wind from your lungs. “Not his. Mine. Always mine—”

“Yours,” you repeat between soft whines. “Yours, Harry, you know that—”

“Yeah?” He holds you tighter, allowing you no room to squirm as he nears his release. His pace becomes faster and sloppier the closer he gets. Allowing your warmth to soak him, draw him in. Using you as nothing more than a toy. A means to his end. “Then prove it.”

Even without much extra stimulation, you can feel yourself getting closer to the brink. Harry has always had this innate ability to get you there without much more than a few pumps of his cock. Perhaps it’s his size or his technique. The way he knows exactly where to thrust in order to hit the right spot and make you see stars. 

And maybe there’s a part of you – albeit small – that enjoys the idea of being good for him. Of coming on his cock (or his tongue or his fingers) just so he can watch. So he can feel what he does to you.

Maybe…you just want to be good for him. At least in moments like this. To know that you’ve earned his approval, his praise. That such a brilliant man has devoted his time and attention and body just to you. 

That you’re worthy of his time.

Worthy of him.

It’s almost degrading to think about and yet…it makes you clench. Pussy clamping down on his beautifully thick cock until he groans and nuzzles his nose against your neck.  

“Shit,” he hisses, rhythm stuttering as a shot of pleasure rolls through him. “Tink, if you’re gonna do that, I’m gonna cum.”

“Good,” you answer instantaneously. “Want you to. Need you to, Daddy, please—”

“No,” he huffs, and he stills for only a moment as if attempting to refrain from falling apart. “No, need you to cum first. Daddy needs to feel you cum first, okay? Come on, baby, gotta give it to me—”

You mewl helplessly, drowning out the rest of his instruction. You’re close, and you know it won’t be much longer until it overwhelms you.

And there’s some part of you that feels…disappointed. Saddened by the idea of things going back to how they normally are. That he’ll take himself from you – take his cock from you – and return to the maddening man you can hardly tolerate.

Maybe subconsciously, you try to hold off. Keep your orgasm at bay so you can keep him just a little longer. So you can appreciate the caring man behind you and the way he’s so desperate to put you first.

He’s quite wonderful when he’s not being an ass.

“Tink,” he grunts, hand moving up toward your jaw. You feel his palm press to your throat, and you swallow thickly against his skin. “Baby, I want you to cum. Wanna feel you. What do you need? Hm? Wanna play with your pretty button for me?”

You nod pitifully and allow your own fingers to move down toward your cunt. It’s wet and achy and swollen so much it almost hurts to touch. But you release a strained breath, nevertheless, appreciating the sting of overstimulation as you writhe in his hold.

You can feel your body beginning to overheat the closer you get. Helping warm you up from the October chill still biting at your skin. And the sounds of your friends aren’t far behind. Perhaps looking for you, waiting for you both to exit the maze and continue on with your evening.

But you don’t give a damn about anybody else right now. Just him.

Something you never thought you’d say.

“Getting closer, yeah?” he hums against your ear, fingers tightening around your neck. “I know. Fucking shaking, baby, you’re okay. I got you. Just let it happen, let go.”

There’s something about his voice. About the feel of his glasses against your temple. About the way he makes you feel safe and secure. The way he effortlessly brings you to the edge and promises to catch you when you fall.

You know he hates you. And yet you also know that despite this loathing you share, you’re still his priority. That he’ll put your pleasure first, no matter what. That he wants to be good.

“Har,” you whimper through a high-pitched whine. “Shit, please—”

“You close? Gonna give it to me? Make Daddy happy?”

The reminder of the nickname makes you moan, a bit softer than before, but still rather lewd. And Harry tsks from behind you, once again sliding his palm up to your mouth.

“Dirty fucking princess,” he grits before he’s suddenly slamming himself into you. “Can’t ever do what she’s told, hm? Just loves to disobey me. Wants to get caught. Wants to be my greedy little girl—”

My greedy little girl.

That’s what does it for you. His possession, his mark, his claim. Reducing you to nothing more than this thing he uses for his pleasure. An object to be had.

In any other moment, you’d chastise him for it.

Right now, it’s everything you need to hear.

You cum on his cock without much choice. Pleasure unfurling like the petals of a flower in spring. For a moment, the overpowering sensation is all you can comprehend. Just ecstasy, a weightless euphoria. Lifting you up and dropping you back down.

He curses when he feels it, offering you quick murmurs of praise before he’s grabbing onto your hips with both hands and yanking you back. Using this leverage to drive his cock in in sharp thrusts before he’s following. Releasing himself into you with a groan as you gasp and grab onto one of the beams for support.

Thirty seconds pass of heavy breathing and lingering whimpers before you both fall quiet, chests heaving and legs still shaking.

He doesn’t pull out for at least a moment or two, merely holding onto your waist as he works to gather himself together.

“Shit,” he finally whispers, and you feel the subtle stroking of his thumb against your tender skin. Right over the bruises you’re sure to find tomorrow. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum weakly, nodding once. “Really good, actually.”

“Yeah? Good. You needed it.”

You feel your lips pull back into a smile. “Oh, did I?”

“You really did.”

“Right. Even though you’re the one that fucks me every time you see me.”

You hear him scoff as he finally – and slowly – pulls out. Allowing your muscles to unwind as you release a deep breath. “I’m doing you a favor,” is his reply. And it’s laced with a condescension and haughtiness that you know all too well.

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

“Yes.” He tucks himself back into his briefs before crouching down to reach for your jeans. Pulling them back up your legs with a strange amount of care, despite his snarky attitude. “I do a lot of favors for you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

You turn around while he steps back and readjusts his glasses. “Was getting us lost one of those favors?”

A strange, almost sadistic kind of grin begins to stretch across his face. “Maybe.”

You hesitate. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs once before backing out of the lookout as you rezip your jeans. “It means…maybe I knew this was the wrong way.”

“…I’m sorry?”

His hands shove into his pockets while his sly smile seems to mirror his satisfaction. “I just figured it wouldn’t hurt to do some…exploring.”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” you nearly gasp, striding after him so you can swat your hand across his chest. “Are you fucking serious? You got us lost on purpose?”

“We were never lost, Tinkerbell. I knew exactly where we were."

"Yeah? And where are we?"

"Taking a detour."

“I cannot believe you,” you murmur, staring at him rather incredulously. “God, you are so fucking horny, it’s insane.”

“Oh, relax,” he snorts. “I didn’t take you back here to fuck you. I just thought you’d wanna see the top of the maze.”

“And you couldn’t have just asked?”

“Would you have agreed?”

You consider this. “…all right, maybe not. But you’re still a fucking ass.”

“Yeah,” he agrees coyly. “I know.”

You keep your stern glare, but your grin is playful. “Whatever. Does this mean you know the way out?”

“I do,” he says. “There’s a shortcut. Cassie and I used to cheat and use it all the time.”

The revelation of her name makes your breath catch. You hadn’t expected him to reveal something so personal, and there’s a part of you that isn’t quite sure what to do with it.

You can tell he hasn’t realized his slip, because he’s still smiling at you like he’s waiting for you to get the joke. To laugh with him.

But there’s something else in his eye – something beautiful and reminiscent. Excited. Like the mere mention of her name has calmed him. Reminded him of a better time. A happier place. 

Reminded him of someone who isn’t you.

“I see,” you manage, choking the words out as you glance toward the dirt beneath your sneakers. Avoiding his eye. “Well…great. Get me the hell out of here, please.”

He studies you for a moment. You can feel his eyes boring into your profile, as though attempting to work out just what changed in your demeanor.

Then, he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and says, “Yeah. This way.”

With that, he maneuvers back through the large stocks of corn and leads you through the intricate labyrinth. Weaving his way along the path and bypassing each checkpoint with ease, almost as if he’s done this a hundred times.

You imagine he has.

You reach the exit in only a few minutes, and relief washes over you as you catch sight of your car in the distance. Your means of escape and your excuse to leave him behind. 

“Thank God,” you mumble as you both slip out from the corn and back into the light. “That was…excruciating.”

“Oh, was it?” he teases. “Really? All of it?”

“Yes, all of it,” you snort, but you feel rather amused as you glance over his expression. “Let’s never get stuck in a corn maze together again, agreed?”

“Agreed,” he replies, but there’s a certain playful glimmer in his eye. “We can just fuck the old-fashioned way. In your car.”

“Gee, great.”

You both fall silent as your quippy remarks die down. Looking at each other like you’re waiting for someone to break the spell. To return you both to your anger and your rivalry. To poke fun at the few moments of intimacy and understanding you shared and release you from this strange yearning.

You decide to be the first, clearing your throat as quietly as you can while reaching for the collar of the hoodie to slip it off. “Uh, well…thanks again. For letting me borrow this.”

He blinks, momentarily puzzled – or perhaps…disappointed? – as he watches you pull it from your body. “Yeah. No problem. Just bring a fucking coat next time.”

“There won’t be a next time, remember?” you retort, tossing it over. 

He catches it with one hand, and smiles. “Right. And thank God for that.”

“Exactly.”

Another lull, the two of you continuing to stand in the dimly lit parking lot as you wait for him to say goodbye.

And suddenly, you realize…you don’t want to go. You don’t want to say goodbye. That you feel…safer when he’s around. More relaxed and at ease. Even when you’re griping with him or resisting the urge to put his head through a wall, he’s still…comforting. A forceful and reassuring presence that you otherwise feel lost without. 

Because you remember who he was before…Cassie. You remember his kindness and his ability to make you laugh.

And you know that he’s still that person. He’s still trying to take care of the people he feels closest to, even when he doesn’t mean to. Even when he doesn’t realize.

You know why he pushed you away. You know why he’s created such a vast, unyielding distance. And you can’t exactly blame him.

But the version of him that automatically thinks to care for you…that’s the version you’re drawn to. That’s the version you don’t want to say goodbye to.

“What?” he asks, grinning again as his head cocks. Seeming to notice the shift in your expression. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You hesitate, lashes fluttering as you work out a response. Wondering just how much you can share…and how much of it is real. “Nothing, I…this was just…”

He waits, brow raised. 

Your lips clamp. “Nothing. I’m just thinking about all the fucking work I have to do when I go in tomorrow, thanks to you.”

And you can see he’s unconvinced, eyes flicking between yours as if looking for the real answer. But he waits a beat before his smile fades and he asks, “Why did you really come tonight?”

A bit caught off-guard by the question, you blink. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you could have partnered with anyone else. If you really wanted,” he explains, slowly stepping closer. Forcing a hitch in your throat. “Could have left me behind. Gone ahead. But you didn’t. Why?”

And there it is. That hint – that almost undetectable trace – of vulnerability behind the usual arrogance. He’s giving you the chance, offering you an opportunity for truth.

And maybe you want to take it. Maybe you want to confess and unburden yourself of this weight that’s settled on your shoulders. 

The truth teases the tip of your tongue, laden with consequences.

But just before you can offer him the real answer, there’s a distant laugh from one of the groups back in the maze. Interrupting the moment and stealing what little courage you had left.

Your lashes flutter quickly as if shaking yourself from a daze, and you step back. Forcing distance between your bodies in an attempt to find clarity. 

Harry watches you go, expression hard and etched with frustration, while you swallow thickly and spin on your heel. 

He doesn’t call after you as you race to your car. Doesn’t insist on an answer or try to make you stay.

He merely stands there beneath the warm hue of the streetlamp, allowing you to run away, and disappear into your car before fleeing the scene.

Leaving him behind. 

Previous Part:

~ Always*

~ 404 Masterlist

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave @princessprongs @nuggetdean @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

[lady-ashfade]

Blood And Pressure

Part three

Yandere!Pjo × Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)

-♡ Chapters: Previous // Next

-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Annabeth Chase, Grover Underwood

-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that's all really (maybe more in the future!)

-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really. Just that they are older teens. (Except for Clarisse and Luke at pjo show actors)

-♡ warnings: short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting, platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out. (Luke will be back don’t worry)

“Well,” you sigh and look at Percy with sadness but tried to not show it. In this short time you had someone who dispute just meeting you, gave you something you wanted for as long as you have been here. A friend.

“You’ll be great here. Luke will take care of you.” Percy gripped the straps of his backpack at his name on your lips.

“Yeah, he seems nice..” he looked past your shoulder at the boy that must have been a year older then him. But he was much larger then he was..more muscular and a few inches taller.

“It’s hard to be in a new place, trust me I know that.” You paused for a second and he could see you running over your thoughts. Before he could piece together anything you wrapped your arms around him and embraced him.

He was stunned in place as his chest become breathless at being close to you. This was his chance, so he wrapped his arms around you and smiled at how your hair smelled sweet.

“Thank you Percy,” you whispered while still holding so tightly onto him. You cared little about anything else.

“For what?”

“Giving me a friend for as long as I can.” You pulled back from him and stepped away with a embarrassed expression. Before percy could reply, Chiron called your name and you gave him one last look and walked away.

You walked out the cabin beside the centaur with your legs practically dragging.

You felt sick to your stomach while thinking of being back in the house and being stuck there again with no one your age to hang out with. You stared at the ground while waking and you could feel Chirons gaze on you but you didn’t bother looking up.

Deep down you knew you weren’t supposed to be here. It didn’t make sense to you but you blacked out everything before this “camp” and only pieces came back to you. You remember someone training you…you remembered your powers and how to use them. And, you remember the book you had- the only thing of your old life. But not what you are.

“It’s just a silly little story,” you overheard the first night in the big house. “Just let her keep it.” Chiron convinced the god.

Now you got a taste of freedom you didn’t want to go back. You wanted to be with people your own age, you wanted friends. You think i’d go insane to spend another week trapped in that place.

“So,” a new voice creeped up in your ears. You both come to a stop and you find yourself looking up. A new girl. She was beautiful but her harsh glare and muscles set a shiver down your spine. Her eyes looked you up and down causing you to shift uncomfortably.

“She’s finally out of her cage.” Her teeth poked out from her smile and for some reason it reminded you of a shark or a lion…like she hunted pray for fun, and you were her next kill.

“Clarisse, lovely to see you.” The man smiled softly but his voice sounded different like a warning of some sort. “We are just going back, is there anything you need?” You throat goes dry when she starts to step closer to you.

“What is she? No one at camp knows but you guys seem to,” you play with your fingers under her almost threatening gaze. You remember one glare like that…Ares had one.

Not that you ever met him really but there was a dream. You were in a place with thrones around you and people sat amongst them and screamed at each other. Not much did you catch or remember of what was said, almost like you were meant to. But the subject did revolve around you.

“Tell me, what are you?” That’s when things clicked in your mind. Someone had asked that before.

“That’s enough. Go back to your cabin—”

“I’m a heartrender.”

The pair stare at you before moving their wide eyes up. You feel your blood pump faster and a growing confidence and remember who you were. Slowly coming down from high you felt, you notice their gaze wasn’t on you anymore but just above you.

“What?” You asked before taking a glance above you and see something shining bright above you. Stepping back you found yourself confused…no god was your parent, you weren’t a half blood. So why was one claiming you…

Thunder could be heard and rumbled underneath your feet. This couldn’t be right.

“That’s impossible..”

A peacock feather hung above your head in all its glory.

Taglist @maria699669 @gorgeourrific-nerd @alliriseabove @targaryenluvs @theaaeht @dabalyuteeeftia @weepingwitchofthewest @iris1587 @tulipmagnoliaisme @ameliashideout @purplerose291 @poppyflower-22 @riaaavm

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Missed Me? Pt 1

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: unprotected PiV, stepcest/inappropriate relationships, oral, rough treatment, gag, spanking, spit, semi-public, knife

Info: you just wanted to go on a run, but dear old dad needed some help in the garage; he fucks you stupid. Inappropriate dad joke. Fuck or die type shit

This gif 🥵 fuck me please

“Where are you going doll?” Anakin’s voice floated over to you from the garage.

“Oh hey!” You said, spinning on your heel and walking toward him after shutting the front door behind you. “I was gonna go for a run.”

“A run?” Anakin asked, lifting an eyebrow in a questioning way.

“Yeah you know? Cause I’m trying out for track?” You reminded him with a slight laugh.

“Sorry baby, I forgot.” Anakin said with a little frown. “Do you have a minute before you go? I need alittle help real quick.”

“Oh yeah sure.” You said, walking over to him in your running shorts and sports bra, a loose jacket of Anakin’s slipping down your shoulder.

“I could get it myself but your tiny arms can reach it better.” He grinned, pointing down into the engine bay of an old truck he was working on.

“Oh shut up.” You scoffed, holding out your hand for him to place the wrench in your hand. He happily did so with that cute crooked smile and then dusted off his hands and lifted you up by your waist to sit you down on the lip of the engine bay so you could reach it properly.

He took advantage of your position to stare at your ass, it’d been a long while since he’d seen it the way he wanted to. Maybe it was time for alittle convincing conversation, he thought as he discreetly adjusted his half-hard cock.

Snapping himself back to the current situation he joined you by standing on the drivers side tire and leaning over to explain what he needed you to do. Soon enough you’d extracted a small, but very heavy piece of the engine responsible for getting the exhaust fumes out the exhaust pipe in the back. Anakin explained that in older trucks like this one, these pieces crack and can cause fuel leaks.

“Great job baby.” He said proudly, helping you get down. “I might as well just hire you huh?” He laughed.

“You’re real funny.” You teased. “All I did was take out some bolts.”

“Yeah and that’s like a big chunk of mechanics sweetheart, you’re basically halfway there.” He teased. “It’d be good for you to learn this stuff anyway.”

“I don’t need to know ‘this stuff’ that’s what I have you for.” You said, watched a smirk cross Anakin’s lips.

Anakin raises an eyebrow, handing you a rag to wipe your hands off with. “I suppose you’re right about that doll, that’s alright though I don’t mind it.” He smiled.

You tossed the rag back to him and started to turn around with a little wave so you could get back on task. But Anakin had other plans.

He twisted the rag taut and whipped it quickly out straight at your ass and it connected with a dull *thwap*. You yelped and immediately covered your ass with your hands and spun around to face him with a red face.

“Anakin!” You squeaked, trying to sound stern but only sounding even more flustered than you looked.

"How about instead of you pounding the pavement, I start pounding something else?" His gaze shifts suggestively to your chest before meeting yours again, challenge gleaming in his eyes and a sly smirk on his lips.

“What are you trying to say Anakin?” You scoffed and crossed your arms.

You of course knew exactly what he meant, but it couldn’t hurt to play naive. What had happened between you in the past should probably stay there. It had nearly ruined your reputation during your senior year of highschool. One time, only once, someone caught a glimpse of Anakin sharing a far from fatherly congrats kiss with you in his car after your team won the regional volleyball tournament.

The damage control that came along after the news spread throughout your school and town was intense. Your mother chose to pretend not to hear the rumors and never even mentioned it to either of you. You refused to acknowledge it, Anakin did the same. A few weeks after that, you’d made the painful decision to end your inappropriate relationship; Anakin agreed it was for the best, but that didn’t mean either of you were happy about it.

Now you were in freshman year of college, trying out for track, aiming for the dean’s list, snagging any extra scholarships you could.

The thought was tempting, so so so tempting. You’d missed him. It’s so hard to love someone from a distance when you live in the same house. It was painful, gut wrenchingly painful to wean yourself off those goodnight kisses, the far too long hugs, the couch cuddles, those secret hot and heavy moments you snuck away for every chance you could.

’No.’ You said to yourself , ‘nope, not going there. I. Can’t. Do. That. Again.’

“What am I trying to say?" Anakin repeats, his face mimicking a forlorn puppy. “I miss you.”

“Anakin.” You warned, he can’t use that voice with you. You’d melt. You’d cave.

“Baby, please?” He took a hesitant step forward. “We don’t have to do anything… I just- I miss being close to you.”

“But-“ you started and he held up his hand.

“It was a bad joke I know.” He said apologetically. “I just… you know me I suck at talking about things.”

“It was a bad joke.” You agreed, a soft smile on your lips.

“I know what I said back then… how you’d be better off finding someone your age. It’s true you know? But just cause it’s true doesn’t mean that’s what I actually want.” He whispered, leaning closer until his nose almost touches yours.

“Ani… we really shouldn’t.” You whispered. “You say ‘we don’t have to do anything’ but we both know how we’ll end up if we give in just alittle bit.”

“So you miss me too?” He asked, a little hint of emotion in his voice.

“You’ve always been so good at only hearing what you want to.” You sighed.

“No. I’m just really good at reading between the lines sweetheart.” He said softly, bringing a calloused hand to your cheek.

Anakin was letting his hand hover near your cheek, not quite touching it, just close enough that you could feel his warmth. The fact that he was giving you the choice of even such a small form of intimacy made you want it even more. Hesitantly you allowed the little bit of skin contact, his palm fitting to your cheek perfectly. His thumb rubbed ever so gently across your under-eye, so soothing that if you were to lay down right now, you’d be asleep in seconds.

A warm and genuine smile graced his lips, his eyes shining with adoration and joy that you’d allowed yourself this affection from him.

“I always did love when you wore my clothes.” He whispered, straightening the borrowed jacket back up onto your shoulder. “I like that you still do sometimes.” His tone of voice laced with a horrible longing.

There it was again. That voice. That look in his eyes that made your heart scream. You couldn’t help it, it must be some kind of baser instinct. The horribly painful urge to comfort and hold and love and kiss him when he did this. Or at least that’s what you told yourself.

“What are you thinkin’ doll?” He whispered, resting his forehead on yours. His thumb brushing your lower lip while his other hand slid down the fabric of your jacket to rest on your hip.

The respect he showed for your boundaries was always so endearing. Anyone else would’ve just went straight for the bare skin on your waist. It would’ve been so easy to slip his hand beneath the open jacket and squeeze the soft flesh like you knew he wanted to. But he didn’t.

“I’m thinking this is a real bad idea Ani.” You said quietly, even though you were actively inching closer.

“Probably.” He agreed, allowing you full control over the situation. He was itching to give you that kiss you so desperately wanted, but knew it wasn’t his choice. You had to decide.

“Mom would never forgive me.” You mumbled. Knowing that it was true, she turned a blind eye once in hopes of it being a horrible rumor spread by someone at your school. But if word got out a second time around? Game over.

“Mmm no. She wouldn’t.” Anakin whispered, his lips parted and he watched you tilt your chin up.

“It’s just gonna hurt us.” You whispered, your lips centimeters from his. It was taking every bit of control in his body to keep still.

“Like hell.” He agreed, his mouth practically watering as your lip barely gazed his.

“I was just getting over you.” You lied, a last ditch effort to right this wrong before it came to fruition.

“No you weren’t.” He breathed out, hot breath fanning over your wetted lips.

“No. I wasn’t.” You confirmed.

You stay there, your lips so close. Hovering just out of reach, your noses pressed together. The anxiety of waiting for your next move was getting to Anakin and he was trying. He really was trying to behave himself, but fuck you made it so hard on him.

You held your breath and dove in. Lips meeting in a searing kiss, hot and heavy from the very beginning. As if there were no other way to survive, as if you stopped you’d simply crumble to pieces.

Anakin let out a desperate groan and slipped his tongue into your mouth, past your smooth lips to massage your eager tongue. He hummed at the taste of you, having craved it for so long. Like an addict he was doomed the moment he felt your lips again.

Anakin was usually gentle, rough enough when you needed him to be, but right now? You’d never seen him so fucking feral.

He was breathing like he was gasping for air, hot breath from his mouth and nose as he tore the jacket off your shoulders and clumsily grabbed your chin to tilt your head back farther. Practically fucking your mouth with his tongue he walked you backward to his work bench. Cradling your head with one hand and his other was sliding up the back of your sports bra to sit heavy between your shoulder blades.

Your ass hit the wood of the table and he lifted you up and sat you down roughly, the legs scraping across the floor until it was pushed flush against the wall. Anakin’s hands were tight on your hips as he adjusted your angle so that you were perfectly lined up with the big throbbing bulge in his jeans.

He pressed against you, groaning when he realized he could feel the heat of your cunt through the thin fabric of your shorts. The delicious ‘mmm’s, ‘mph’s, and ‘uh’s of his relentless mouth on yours was dizzying. He was always so vocal and it was always so fucking hot. You swallowed those gorgeous little noises and returned the favorite with a whimper when he ground his cock against your core.

“Missed you baby.” He mumbled, his sticky kisses trailing down your jaw.

“Missed you Ani.” You parroted back in a breathy escape of air.

Your brain short circuited from the polar opposite contrast of his viscous lips, teeth and tongue on the sensitive skin of your neck, and the gentle caress of his rough hands on your sides and back.

“Please?” He asked, his index finger running back and forth across the waistband of your shorts.

You nodded, attempting to help him pull them down but he got impatient. So impatient that he grabbed his pocket knife and flipped out the blade quicker than you could blink. A loud *skrrrip* of the fabric left you bare. He’d even managed to get rid of your panties without you even realizing. You were too busy feeling your cunt contract around nothing as you gushed fresh arousal at his eagerness.

“S’fucking taking too damn long.” He grumbled, gently but firmly pushing you back to lie down on the table, his other hand flinging random tools, bolts and screws across the garage as he carelessly cleared a place for you.

His knife dipped under your bra at the valley of your breasts and sliced through it easily, allowing your tits to spill out for him to feast on. Anakin must’ve read your mind, because when he latched onto one of your nipples, tossing his knife aside to tweak the other, he mumbled. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

You would’ve laughed had you been capable of breathing correctly. He left your tits to grab your neck and firmly squeeze it, his tongue trailing down your stomach, circling your navel and then wasting no time at all with suctioning his pretty pink lips around your puffy little clit.

He whined and moaned like he was on the receiving end, the way he got pleasure from your pleasure was beautiful. Never had you seen anything like it. A man who loved pussy, correction: your pussy so much that he could stay buried there for hours. Like it was mutually beneficial, he’d rutted into your mattress for over an hour while tongue fucking you into oblivion once. When he finally relented he sat back on his heels to reveal white sticky smears across his thighs and lower stomach. He’d humped himself to orgasm just about as many times as he’d lovingly forced you to endure cumming for him.

This was different. This was pure unfiltered hunger. Both hands under your ass now, thumbs pulling your pussy lips apart so he could slurp and lick and destroy you as quickly as possible. He was moaning as if he’d found an oasis after days alone in the desert.

“C’mon baby.” He panted. “Give it to me. Give me what I need.”

His deep rumbling voice flowed through every fiber of your being and snapped the coil in your stomach before it could even finish winding up. He shoved two fingers in your mouth you silence your screams and you swore you could feel the man’s cocky little grin against you as he licked you clean.

“That’s it.” He panted, standing up and licking his lips. He pulled his sweat soaked work shirt off his body and wiped his mouth with it.

“Turn over sweetheart.” He commanded, eyes on fire as he whipped off his belt and dropped his grease stained jeans down around his thighs.

You quickly complied, your toes barely touching the ground as the dull edge of the table bit into your hips. Anakin grabbed both asscheeks and jiggled them. You heard him groan right before a loud *smack* echoed in the garage, a stinging slap that would surely leave a red mark.

You cried out, not in pain, but in need. He knew you loved that and he loved to watch what happens after he spanks you. He pulled your asscheeks apart and watched with his tongue folded over his top row of teeth, the tip hiding behind his top lip as your pussy leaked creamy slick down to your puffy folds.

He bent down, hands still firm on your ass to kiss your dripping hole gently before spitting a fat blob of saliva there for good measure. You heard a rustle of fabric before his sweaty tshirt was tossed over your head and forced into your mouth as a gag, Anakin’s big strong hand gripped the two ends together behind your head like reins.

Without warning he shoved his cock into your tight little pussy and pushed down on your lower back with his forearm to keep you still as he pounded into you.

“Sorry doll.” He panted, hips slapping against the backs of your thighs in a sweaty sticky mess. “Gotta make sure no one can hear you sing for me.”

You could hear the grin in his words, you could feel the unbridled lust seeping into your skin from his closeness. His cock bullying your soft gummy walls, he’d gotten you off. Now it was his turn, and he was going to use you until he burst.

“Missed this so much.” He breathed out, his voice hoarse.

“Thought about you every day. Not just the sex.” He admitted. “You. Just you baby. I love you.”

“Fuckin’ love you.” He grunted, huffing and gritting the words out through his teeth.

“Love this pussy.” Each syllable punctuated by a deep and brutal stroke.

“Mine.” He groaned, his hips stuttering. “Mine. I don’t give a fuck.”

“You hear me?” He asked, pulling on the gag to lift your head. He grabbed a hand full of hair along with it and nodded your head for you. “Yeah ‘course you do princess.”

“Don’t care what anyone says.” He whined, his hips snapping faster.

“God damnit.” He panted heavily, his forehead dropped to the dip under your shoulder blade, a hot breathy open mouth kiss placed there.

His fore arm left your lower back to brace himself against the wall, without the weight of him holding you in place you were helpless to the onslaught of rough thrusts, the table swaying and creaking under the force of his cock drilling into your poor abused cunt.

He’d fucked you stupid, you felt delirious, your head spinning as though your were drunk. You supposed you were, cockdrunk that is. You couldn’t tell up from down, or left from right. The only thing on your mind was Anakin.

You moaned it, screamed it, cried it out with big salty tears soaking the drool and sweat stained shirt caught between your teeth. He was right. He was fucking the living daylights out of you and it would’ve been a real shame if someone had called the cops in worry that you were being murdered.

“Fuck sweetheart. You hear me?” He laughed. “Poor thing. Fucked you senseless huh?”

Had he been talking? He’d been speaking to you and you hadn’t heard a word. You were too busy trying to hold onto the very thin string tethering you to reality.

“Sweet little hole’s been leaking down those pretty thighs of yours. You’re cumming and didn’t even know it baby.” He teased. “Does it just feel that good?”

“So good you can’t tell what’s what? All just one big orgasm huh?” He said, the authority in his tone mixed with condescension was so so sweet.

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you went limp again. Oh shit, he was right. What the hell had he done to you? Your body felt on fire, your cunt almost numb from the onslaught of relentless forced orgasms. No wonder you were so completely out of it. He really had fucked you senseless. You could finally hear yourself, truly hear yourself now that Anakin had brought you back down to earth, and god were you loud.

His hips stuttered, his thrusts getting sloppy as he got closer and closer to the finish line.

“Where do you want it huh?” He asked you, not really expecting an answer. He was gonna fuck his cum into you regardless.

“On this juicy ass?” He asked, squeezing it hard, you frantically shook your head.

“No? Where then?” He taunted. “Your mouth? On those pretty lips? Your hair? No… couldn’t be that baby, you hate that.” He laughed. He was enjoying this power trip way too much.

You whined and squirmed under him your words muffled as you helplessly begged for him to please just cum inside.

He must’ve gotten sick of making himself wait, because the next thing he said was, “Oh I know… you want it riiiight there huh?”

He panted, as he held his hips flush against you, his cock unloading rope after rope of hot cum. He gently released you from the gag, a breathy laugh escaping him when you lazily collapsed on the table.

“C’mon sweetheart, let me clean you up hmm?” He said, his voice deep as he tugged up his jeans.

You tried to hop down from the table but every square inch of you was exhausted and throughly used to the point that you were boneless. Anakin stopped you with a soft kiss on your spine, spreading your cunt open again he thrust his tongue deep inside, sucking his cum and your juices from your spent hole.

That’s when you heard gravel crunching under tires up the length of your driveway.

Part Two

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch@cherrylooney@star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit3corpse @jeldog @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay

@aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn

@illiethefairy @bunnylovesani @offthethirlwall

@slutforhayden @ausskywalker @angelsadmired

@slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

@starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @no1klet @lethargic

@allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi

@bobtheturmpetman29 @mortalheartache

@fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot

@joshfutturmansrighthand @chaoticantihero

@vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee

@sweetcheesecakesblog@rga11 @luvskywxlker

@angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the tag list

[depresssant]

title : 'santa maria' aquamarine

yan!gojo x painter!reader

synopsis : he had never spared you a single glance before, but now here he was talking about getting you an aquamarine necklace to match his eyes

—————

“oh, [name]? yeah, that loser always holes herself up in her room."

your older sister's voice could be heard from a mile away with how obnoxious she sounded. 

well, she wasn't wrong.

sighing, you tossed your paintbrush into its cup and took a step back to look at your half-finished work. you spent an entirety of a week on it, not bothering to step out of your room unless it was to change the water in your cup, get food, or clean your paintbrushes. the painting was of a faceless woman in black walking in the opposite direction of all the colorful people as rain stormed from the clouds. she was the only one that didn't have an umbrella.

it reminded you a little of you...

who were you kidding?

the woman in the painting was you.

in the world of jujutsu, you were just a non-sorcerer that could only see curses. your family was a famous and potent clan who's pride was their cursed technique, so to have been born without one was a bad omen in itself. you were to be discarded, ignored, and shunned from what was considered a 'normal society.'

even your own family participated in such a trend, and you had soon found yourself turning into a hermit of sorts. what good did it do to even show your face to the world if the world didn't want to see you? it was a lost cause⏤one that you refused to believe in any longer. living like this until you turned eighteen was really the only option left for you.

you nodded in satisfaction⏤it was a rare occasion for you to be satisfied with one of your pieces⏤and moved to begin cleaning, but all of a sudden, your door swung open as if it was kicked down.

the sight that greeted you made any wisp of happiness you had crumbled away.

"[NAME]!"

when were the two of you on first name basis?

gojo satoru, in all his glowing glory, stormed into your room like a hurricane with a grin that reflected heaven's light itself and a bag of sweets from a bakery you knew all too well. he shut the door with his foot⏤why did he close the door⏤and avoided all the stuff you had laying across the floor before placing the bag on a clear part of your desk and tossing himself onto your bed.

"i've missed you so much, you know!" he whined and grabbed the dinosaur plushie situated in the crack between the wall and the edge of your bed. "you kept it!"

Only because he forced you to.

you sighed in disappointment and grabbed all your cups and paintbrushes to place them in a plastic container headed for the bathroom. "what are you doing here?"

"geez, is that any way to talk to your fiancé?"

"burn in hell."

"whateveeeeerrr! i got you your favorite. the chocolate chip cookie croissant!" the white-haired man rolled his eyes like this was simply playful banter and not literal words from the depths of your heart. he grabbed the bag and after rummaging through, pulled up some packaged good. 

how did he know that was your favorite pastry?

"thank you," you murmured back in reply. "if that's all, please leave. i'm sure sister wants to see you."

you grabbed a paintbrush with a smaller tip to begin adding the little details to the painting, but gojo didn't get the hint. he sat on your chair and looked up at you to watch you paint. there was a smirk on his face that told you he knew something you didn't, and it got under your skin like a parasite.

"stop looking at me like that."

"like what?"

"i said stop looking at me like that!"

"ugh, fine! you're no fun! how are we supposed to spend the rest of our lives together if you act so cold? you know... i know tomorrow is your birthday."

... shit.

your hold tightened on your paintbrush, but you sighed and shrugged. "okay? and?"

"I just wanted to ask because i know emerald is your favorite. we should've went shopping for it before the wedding, but i figured that since you didn't like going out, i'd just get them myself. what type of ring do you want? emerald? diamond? ruby? oh! i should get you one of those, uh, santa maria aquamarine gems! it matches my eyes, aaaannnndddd we can make it into a necklace for you!"

emerald? diamond? a wedding ring...

not a ring. a curse trapping you with him forever.

you remembered not too long ago when he had asked you if you wanted to wear a western styled gown or a traditional kimono picked out by his mother, and you thought he was joking. he had hated you for so long⏤going as far as to making your life physically hell, but then he strangely flipped a switch? you were supposed to believe that the man who scarred you as a means to rebel against your future marriage with him suddenly jumped in excitement at the sight of you? a man who didn't bother to glance your way for seven and a half straight years before finally talking to you willingly just magically knew all your likes and dislikes, the future dates on your calendar, and every contact on your phone?

damn it.

why did your parents pick you to get engaged with him instead of your sister?

"[name]? are you ignoring me again?"

huh?

"no! no, i'm not!" you lightly shook your head, but the damage had been done.

gojo rose and took off his glasses as a menacing look in his eyes was pinned on you. he grabbed a hold of your waist, hugging you from behind so tightly you felt like your ribs would shatter. his cheek rested on your shoulder, and the words that he whispered in your ear felt like your doom being set in stone.

he tightened his hold on you as a hand came to wrap around your throat.

"i don't think you know you're mine."

and he squeezed.

"forever."

[charcoallbaby]

professor sturniolo

smutttt everyone is 18+ nothing is underage.

my longest work yet! watched millers girls and got inspired, enjoy ! ending is petty hehe ^_^

do you ever wish you could have someone you know you can’t have? especially your married professor.

well that was me two months ago

i placed my books down onto my desk infront of me. the class was empty other than me, two quiet students sitting at the back and the professor of course. he had his back to us, writing the subject of todays class onto the chalk board. i studied his broad shoulder that flexed underneath his thin shirt.

i looked down at my blank phone screen. a notification quickly popped up. it was my mom.

mom💝

me and your sister are going out before you come home, we’ll be home late. make sure no drinking when i’m not home !!

“good morning everyone!” the professor spoke.

i quickly locked my phone before looking up. “well to the 3 people here,” he cleared his throat then leaned against his desk. he scanned his eyes around the room looking at us. his eyes met mine. i could feel my stomach drop. “while we’re waiting for everyone else would you like to introduce yourselves?” he crossed his arms. his eyes were still directly on mine. i looked down at my phone, reminding me of my mothers text. i rolled my eyes. she always has some excuse to not be home.

“you!” the professor called out. i quickly looked up. “me?” i pointed my finger on my chest. he nodded his head. “im y/n,” “y/n y/l/n.” my voice was shaky. “nice to meet you ms y/l/n,” he gave me a small smile. i gave him one back.

he was about to speak before he got interrupted by students piling into the room. “ah!” “you guys decided to join us,” “i’m mr sturniolo.”

he passed papers around the room. he was standing above me. i looked up at him before he placed my paper on the desk. he stared down at the books placed infront of me. “that’s a good one,” he pointed at my current read. i looked down at his hand especially a ring. fuck he’s married.

the book was was the virgin suicides.

“have you watched the film?” the words spilled from my mouth. “yeah i have actually, great movie too.” he gave me a smile before walking back to his desk.

“the paper i gave you is very important, so keep it close to you, if you lose it i sadly cannot replace so please do me and favour and don’t lose it,” someone raised their hand. “claire was it?” she nodded her head. “why can’t you replace a piece of paper?” she laughed. “something about the usage of paper, listen i have no idea, it’s a policy here,” his eyes quickly scanned to mine. he turned around and broke it. “now t-” he was cut off by the loud door opening. “sorry!” my best friend ivy smiled and rushed to sit beside me. “it’s fine, just don’t be late next time.”

“he’s so fucking fine,” ivy whispered into my ear. i turned and looked at her. i shook my head. “are we looking at the same person up there?” she looked at mr sturniolo. his back was to us. “look at his back,” she wined. “i would eat that up!” she licked her teeth. i rolled my eyes. “he’s like ten years older than us,” i placed my pen between my teeth. “what age are you?” “you look very young for a professor!” ivy spoke out. the whole class erupted into laughter. i face planted my head onto my desk. he cleared his throat. “that’s very inappropriate question to ask….” “ivy!” she spoke. “well ivy that’s a very inappropriate question to ask your professor but i’m 29 and im guessing you all are what 20, 21?” “im not that old.” i finally lifted my head. “good to know thanks!” ivy smiled.

class finally ended. people were packing up their belongings. mr sturniolo made his way towards us.

fuck.fuck.fuck.

he looked at me before looking at ivy. “ivy can i speak to you?” he asked. “sure!” she zipped her bag up. “i’ll leave you guys sorry.” i stood up. “no need,” he fidgeted with his watch strap. i nodded my head. “don’t be late and please don’t make comments or questions like that anymore please ivy?” “i don’t wanna be the asshole teacher, can you do that for me?” i looked down at his hands again.

“sure, sorry.” she gave him a awkward laugh.

“great, see you guys tomorrow!”

it’s been a couple of days. i catch mr sturniolo staring at me every once in awhile, but im in the one who started staring first, so he’s just innocently staring back.

i was the first one in class. i internally sighed and found myself to my seat.

“morning ms y/l/n,” mr sturniolo turned around from the chalk board. “morning mr sturniolo,” i took my books out of my bags. “did you anything nice this weekend?” he asked. “um, went to a party wasn’t that fun though i went home after awhile, i hate going out,” i twisted the ring on my right index finger. “its been awhile since i’ve been to a college party, they usually aren’t that good aren’t they?” he let out a chuckle. “no not really, especially the boys,” i looked down at my lap. “one day they’ll realise they’re idiots don’t worry,” i looked up at him. “let’s hope!” the classroom door opened making us both look at it.

“y/n talk to me please,” my ex friends with benefits/situationship chase walked up to me.

“what the fuck?!” i exclaimed. “why are you coming to my classes chase?” “please, i need you so bad,” he whined. i let out a shocked laugh. “okay buddy that’s enough,” mr sturniolo stood in front of him. “professor please!” “no, out of my class!” “but!” “your harrasing one of my students leave now!” he pointed the door. chase growled and sped out of the room.

the class was now starting to fill up. he leaned down on my desk. “you okay?” his eyes met mine. i nodded my head. “i know it’s none of my business but see me after your classes today okay?” “okay.” i said softly.

i stood beside mr sturniolo’s desk while waiting for him.

the door opened, he hurried in.

“sorry y/n!” that’s the first he called me by my name which made me feel a way i know i shouldn’t have liked.

“it’s okay,” i licked my lips. “anyway i just wanted to ask if you want me to report that guy who came in earlier?” he titled his head while looking at me. i swore i tried to hold in a whimper. i looked down at the ground. “no, it’s okay thank you though,” i gave him smile. “you sure?” i nodded my head.

“yes he’s just some loser he’ll get the message soon.” “ex boyfriend?” he asked.

i wasn’t an expert but i knew he shouldn’t be asking me that, but i didnt mind.

“no……” “something worse you can probably imagine what i’m talking about,” i gave him a straight lined smile. “ah yes i can!” his cheeks quickly heated up. “i’ll see you tomorrow mr sturniolo.” “have a good day!”

i got home and layed down onto my bed, looking up at the ceiling thinking about the day.

especially mr sturniolo. his broad shoulders and his long fingers. i closed my eyes. having a wild imagantion was a blessing in disguise.

i slowly moved my hands down under my jeans, unbuttoning them and discarding them somewhere in my room. i slid my hand under my panties, i was soaking because the thought of him. holy fuck this was so wrong. he was my professor. he was a married man.

i slid my middle finger inside of me. i let a desperate moan.

“look at you,” “your in such a mess underneath me y/n." i picked up the pace, adding a second finger while imagining them words coming from his mouth.

his pretty pink lips eating me up as i grab onto his hair and watch his broad back clench.

it didn’t take me long to clench around my finger and shiver. i took a deep breath, trying to get my breathing back to normal. god i’m fucked up, i needed severe help.

i got to class, it wasn’t empty which i was definitely thankful for.

“morning ms y/l/n,” mr sturniolo spoke. “morning.” i muttered for a response. ivy was already sitting in the seat beside me. she finally didn’t skip.

“i didn’t get a morning,” she frowned. i rolled my eyes and took my seat beside her. “he’s just being nice,” i stated. “yeah sure, he stares at you like your a piece of candy waiting to be eaten,” she looked down at her nails. “what?” my mouth suddenly got dry. “he wants to fuck you bad, i can tell!” the glimmer in her eyes shined. i shrugged my shoulders. “i don’t think so,” “of course you don’t, you think no one wants you when your hot,” “he doesn’t want me.” i tapped my finger off the top of her nose. she smiled at me. “denial, denial, denial.”

i couldn’t concentrate in class after ivy’s comment and the fact that mr sturniolo wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. i shouldn’t care, but i do.

“mr sturniolo!” ivy exclaimed as people started to leave the class. “yes?” he looked at ivy. “ms y/l/n here is having problems with her paper!” ivy shot up. “oh you are y/n?” mr sturniolo asked. “i-” ivy cut me off. “sorry i have to go, my next class is on the other side of campus!” she scurried out.

“what’s the issue with your paper?” mr sturniolo stood behind me looking down at my work. “mr sturniolo-“ “you can call me matt,” he spoke. i nodded my head. “matt,” i cleared my throat. “i know im not a writer, but i feel like i have writers block, i have no idea to write about” “there’s nothing that comes to my mind,” i looked up at him. he was staring down at me. he looked so yummy oh my. “well, you want ideas?” he stood up straight. i nodded my head. “something you fantasise about, could be a dream job, something you wish could happen but you know it can’t, it could be a person,” he licked his dry lips. i gulped. “so you want me to write about something i wish i could have?” “i have to write about a fantasy world, a world i wish i could live in?” i asked. “that could work,” he rubbed his jaw. “okay thank you!” i gave him a small smile. “of course, just email me if you need any help.” he nodded his head. “definitely.”

“i’m jealoussssss!!!!” ivy put her head back and groaned. “you realise you have to fuck him now?” she sat back up and sipped her drink. “how?!” “i’ll just walk up to him after class and ask him to fuck me?” “yes!” ivy yelled. i laughed and shook my head. “listen, i’ll do the dirty work for you,” “which is?” i wondered. “i’ll be nosey in class and ask him does he have any plans for the weekend and if he gives us an answer, boom we show up there!” she smiled. “will this work?” “oh yes.”

“oh i didn’t realise you came here weekly ms sturniolo!” ivy exclaimed. “did you follow me here?” he asked looking me up and down. “no we’re here with some friends you know chase right?” she asked. “yeah i do,” he sipped his drink. “i’ll see you soon mr sturniolo.” ivy ran off as she always does.

“you look nice,” matt spoke. “you too matt,” i gave him a smile. “why are you here alone on a friday night?” i leaned against the bar. “i don’t know either y/n, i probably should be correcting papers but i’d rather be drinking my sorrows away!” he finished his glass. “i get you, i hate correcting papers on a friday night too,” i joked. he laughed. “you wanna go outside for a cigarette?” i asked. “i don’t smoke, but sure.” he grabbed his jacket.

he followed me outside. i put the cigarette between my lips, lighting it and slowly inhaling. i passed him the cigarette. he gladly took it and placed it between his lips. “thought you don’t smoke?” i turned to him. “thought you didn’t like going out?” he raised an eyebrow at me. “fair point,” i took it from his fingers. “your way too mature and way too much of a perfectionist for my class you do realise that don’t you?” matt leaned his head against the wall beside us. i smiled. “totally not true,” “i bet you have an apartment that’s perfect, i bet everything is planned out,” matt smiled. “i wish, my controlling mother told me that i still have to live with her while im in college, she says she wants to keep an eye on me but she just doesn’t want to me to turn into a drunk just like her,” i passed him the cigarette. “your not that type of girl from what can i see for the outside,” smoke exited his mouth. “and what can you see for the outside matt?” i looked up at him. he dropped the cigarette “a smart, smart girl,” his warm hand met my waist. “oh really?” i tried to contain myself. “mhm.” he mumbled while leaning down.

his soft warm lips met mine, it was better than i would imagined. i hungrily kissed him back, my hands wrapping around his neck. he pulled my bottom lip between his teeth making me feel dizzy. “you wanna go somewhere?” he asked. i quickly nodded my head.

we ended up at an hotel.

matt pressed the key card against the reader. the door beeped, matt pushed the door opened.

“sorry it’s a bit messy, i just got here last night,” matt stated. “why are you here?” i let slip out. “i caught my wife cheating on me again,” he sighed before shutting the drapes. “again?” i wondered. “yeah i caught her awhile back, i forgave her but i fell out of love with her a long time ago,” he cleared his throat and placed himself down onto the bed. “im sorry.” i bit my lip. “it’s good, c’mere,” he put his hand out.

i walked over to him and took it. he smiled up at me. his hand met my inner thighs, making me glad that i picked out a mini dress. "no panties?” matt growled. i gulped. he pressed his thumb to my clit. i whined. he looked down at his hand while slipping his fingers inside of me. a small moan came from my mouth. he moved his fingers inside of me. “matt.” i whined as he worked fingers deeper inside of me. he leaned his forehead against my stomach. “i wish you weren’t this wet, i would of loved to work for it.” his voice was deep. my eyes rolled onto the back of my head.

dirty talk never did it for me usually, but i never wanted matt to stop talking.

i grabbed onto matt’s hair. “there it is, it’s right there isn’t it?” he panted. “mhm,” i mumbled as he pounded his fingers into me, hitting my g-spot. “keep going,” “i’m not stopping until you finish all over my fingers baby,” his pace slowed down suddenly, i was confused. he took his fingers out, licked them and put his head between my legs. “lay down, so i really taste you.” i quickly followed his order and layed myself down.

matt laced his fingers up and down my wet my folds. “i bet you taste sweet do you?” his eyes looked dark. “i-i don’t know,” i whined. “taste yourself then,” he put his fingers infront of my mouth. i took his fingers into my mouth and licked them clean. “you do taste so sweet,” he dipped his head low between my legs. his warm tongue met my folds. he came back up. “you want me to ruin you?” i nodded my head. “i need a answer princess,” he took his shirt off. “yes, yes.” i breathed out. “let me eat you up first.”

he was roughly eating me out like he couldn’t get enough of me. my legs were wrapped around his shoulders, his hands were gripping my thighs.

matt made me come with his mouth, which has never happened before especially with a man.

“your so wet and silky,” his tip met my folds. a quiet moan came from my mouth. he pounded into me. his hand was hovering over me grabbing onto the headboard, he was making the whole bed shake. but i had always had a feeling he liked fucking girls rough.

i was dreading class after friday. matt fucked me until the sun came up, god it was a come fest.

me and ivy found our seats, i stayed quiet, he didn’t say hi to me which he does most mornings but he fucked me all night on friday so i guess he’s done with the hi’s now.

“morning everyone,” he rubbed his hands together.

he had his ring on. i looked at ivy who was too busy looking at her nails. “ivy,” i whispered. “yeah?” she looked up at me. “he’s wearing his ring,” i gulped. she didn’t answer but only looked at matt.

“this saturday me and my wife went on a little trip so i haven’t corrected any papers that were handed in yet, but you’ll get them by this friday i promise.” he spoke. me and ivy quickly made eye contact. “wife?” “i thought she cheated?” she whispered. “well apparently he’s back with her, he got back with her the last time.” i sighed.

“what is so interesting girls?” matt interrupted us. “oh nothing, just talking about boys you know how it is mr sturniolo!” ivy winked. he let out a heavy sigh. “alright guys topic for today is on the board,” “ms y/l/n, could i speak to you outside?” i froze. “yeah sure.”

i followed him outside. this is the day i die.

he closed the door after me. “what?” i crossed my arms. “i dont need your attitude,” he snapped. “did your wife cheat on you because you have angry issues or are you guys back together now?” i titled my head. “actually!” “i couldn’t care less,” i smiled. “i wanted to say me and my wife are fine, i love her and friday was a mistake i wasn’t in the right head space when i found her and some guy in our bed,” he sighed. “don’t trauma dump on me, i couldn’t not give a fuck about you and your wife, but if you love her so much did she know you were pounding inside of a 21 year olds pussy on the weekend huh?” “be quiet!” matt whispered. “fuck you.” i opened the door to the classroom.

“ivy let’s go get your bag,” i stated. “what?” she said confused “we’re leaving this assholes class room.” the whole room was staring at this point.

matt walked back in flustered.

“just to let everyone know, this man right here, your teacher, indulges in sex with college girls!” i yelled and left the room. “he also has a tiny dick!” i yelled before the door shut.

“is it actually?” ivy asked. “no it’s huge but i can’t let people know that.”

hi! this ending is kinda silly <3333

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Slasher Handler Part 11 - Slip Lead

Slasher Handler Masterlist

Read on AO3

NSFW under the cut.

CW: Implied stalking/surveillance, implied kidnapping, physical injury, deception/emotional manipulation, physical violence, injury with knife, genuinely not enough information, hidden weapons

Something about stabbing him, about meeting Price, has resulted in you being able to stray a bit farther from Simon’s orbit. You’re still on a rather short lead, there is a list of unspoken rules between the two of you as long as your arm. But you’re going out alone more. You don’t feel Simon’s eyes on you every moment he’s out of your sight. It’s weird.

But when it comes to Simon, it’s best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. So you start a routine of going to the cafe down the street twice a week or so to work and see other human beings. It’s surprisingly difficult, some days. More than once, you’ve felt too exposed and retreated back home. These days, you have more good days than bad. As long as people don’t talk to you too much, you’re fine.

So it’s a bit jarring when someone clears his throat while you’re wrangling spreadsheets.

The man is in a light jacket, tee shirt and jeans. Looks like he works out. Kind of a stupid haircut, but he’s at least committed to it. Very distinct looking, Simon’s voice says in your head, easy to track. Unlikely to cause problems.

Something about him makes the hair on your arms stand on end.

“D’ya mind?” he gestures to the chair across from you. At your skeptical look, he rushes to assure you, “ Jus’ fer mah coffee, ‘n t’read,” holding up a thick paperback. He gestures to the rest of the cafe. “Wouldnae bother you, but this’s the only open chair.”

The shop is unusually crowded. You frown up at him. “I’m really busy.”

“Willnae hear a peep from me,” he promises, setting down his coffee and pulling out the chair across from you. He turns the chair so he’s facing more of the room instead of the corner you’re in. And he opens his book.

You watch him for a minute, but he doesn’t look up. It’s hard to shake the feeling that something is wrong, but you do need to work. With a last wary glance at him, you settle your headphones over your ears - transparency on - and get back to organizing a data set that reminds you of a ball of duct tape.

It’s time for a break before you know it. Your companion, true to his word, hasn’t said a peep since he sat down, more than an hour ago. He barely looks up as you close your laptop before turning back to his book. He does look up when you flag down one of the servers.

“Lunch,” you say, inanely. To the server, you say, “Can I get the chicken sandwich today?”

“Chips ‘n a lemonade, yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

They turn to your table mate. “And for you?”

“The same, ah guess?” He raises his eyebrows at you, like he expects you to give him permission or something. He looks back at the server. “Yeah, a chicken piece for me, as well. ‘Nd a juice?”

“Separate checks?”

“Aye, ta,” the guy says. When the server leaves, he blanches. “Hope you dinnae mind.”

You do mind, but it’s not like he can sit anywhere else right now. “It’s fine.”

He sets his book on the table, and your eyebrows shoot up. Whatever you thought he’d be reading, Jurassic Park wasn’t it. He grins. “Ah ken. It’s old, yeah? But it’s a damn sight better’n the movie.”

“Isn’t that how it goes,” you say, vaguely. 

But you’ve already fallen into his trap. He turns his chair to face you, crossing his arms and leaning into the table. His eyes are unnervingly blue - somehow even bluer than Simon’s - and bright with interest. “’M serious. It’s not just that a character yells in the movie and speaks softly in the book, aye? In fact, the movie made Dr. Sattler older, aye? Great choice, emphasize ‘er expertise.” 

Aging up a woman character? You’re reluctantly intrigued. “She was a less important character in the book?”

“Nae,” the man scoffs. “She’s probably the first o’em to realize how shite the whole thing is. Notices things. Stuff the other’s aren’t payin’ attention to because she’s the plant expert, an’ naebody pays attention to plants.”

You find yourself drawn in, in spite of yourself. Johnny, as he introduces himself, has obviously been waiting for a chance to talk about it, but he’s not pushy. He excitedly pulls a pen from his pocket to doodle along with his explanations. By the time your food has arrived, he’s convinced you to at least try the audiobook.

“I cannae pay attention stuff in mah ears,” he says with a grin as he starts to dig in. “But I hear good things, if you don’t ‘ave time to sit an’ read the text.”

As you nod along, you look up and almost choke on your next swallow. Simon is outside, looking at you through the window with raised eyebrows above his usual black surgical mask. His eyes flick to give the man at your table an obvious once over. And then he turns away and walks out of sight.

“Ye alrigh’?” Johnnys’ eyebrows are up near his hairline when you look back at him. “Ye look like ye’ve seen a ghost.”

“Y-yeah,” you say, torn between staying seated and the urge to run after Simon. You can’t help but look at the window again, but he’s gone, there’s nothing for it. “Sorry, I thought… Sorry. Yeah, I’ll get the audiobook.”

When you get home, Simon is on the couch, the TV on with the volume low. He watches you, like he always does, as you take off your shoes and shuffle around to put away your things. When you finally join him on the couch, you find that he’s watching a nature documentary. A crocodile slides under the water with barely a ripple.

“He was only sitting with me because there wasn’t anywhere else,” you rush to say.

Simon turns to cock his head at you. “You get ‘is name?”

“John. Johnny,” you answer. “He told me about his book, but I left as soon as we were done eating.”

“Good,” he says with a nod. He lifts the arm closest to you, pulling you close as you settle into his side. “’S good to have friends, Precious.”

“He’s not a friend. Just some guy out to lunch like everyone else.” 

“You let him stay,” Simon points out. He squeezes you in a rough approximation of a one armed hug. “Been nervous around people, but you’re gettin’ better.”

This isn’t what you expected. You can’t help but side-eye him. “You’re… proud of me?”

Simon’s lips press gently against your forehead. “’S long as you pick better this time, I don’t mind you ‘aving friends. Can’t keep you all to myself forever. ‘Sides, you’ve marked me proper, ‘aven’t you? Got me as your little pet. Johnny’s not gonna be a problem.”

The little pink scar around his ribs is little more than a raised line. You slide your fingers under his shirt to pet at it. Among all of his scars, it’s one of the smallest. You’d cried the first time he’d let you see under the bandages.

“You’re not a pet,” you grumble, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re an alligator who won’t leave my house.”

“Your alligator, now,” Simon agrees. He focuses back on the television, seemingly done with the conversation.

You could leave it at that. But you turn to face him, instead. “You’re not mad?”

“Not unless ‘e ‘urts ya.” Simon presses his lips against your hair. “An’ I wouldn’t let that ‘appen.”

The following week, though, he stands over you with an exaggerated grimace at how crowded the place is. “Och, d’ya mind?”

Johnny is there the next time you go to the cafe. He waves from his table, but ducks back into his notebook without waving you over. So you work from your own table in peace. When you take a break for lunch, he’s gone. Two days later, it’s the same. It’s easier to concentrate, now that you’re less worried that he’ll take the conversation from the other day as an invitation. 

With a sigh, you clear some space for him. But just like last time, he keeps to himself, reading and occasionally jotting things down in his notebook. It’s not until just before lunch that he breaks the silence.

“D’y’ve a boyfriend then?” You can’t keep yourself from cringing fast enough, apparently, because he laughs. “Sorry, sorry, shouldnae asked.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you grumble.

“Aw,” he coos. “Don’ worry hen. You’re right bonnie. Ah’m sure they’ll come around, whoever they are.”

That would be sweet, if it wasn’t so painfully off base. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Oh, you’re right done wit’ me,” he laughs. “Ah ken’t I shoulda kept mah mouth shut. Ma always said runnin’ mah mouth would get me into trouble. I won’t bother ye again.” 

You roll your eyes. “It’s fine. I just don’t want to talk about it.”

He doesn’t push, and you’re grateful. But when it comes time to pay for lunch, he insists on paying. It grates on your nerves. A gift from a guy is never just generosity, you learned that long before Brandon. But you clench your jaw and pack your bag up a bit more roughly than usual and say your goodbyes.

“They didn’t have the brownies you wanted,” you announce as you return home from the grocer, two days later. “I think it was a limited edi…tion…”

You notice Simon watching through the window, but he’s there and gone before you can get a read on his expression.

There’s a smattering of blood on the entryway carpet.

You don’t drop the bag with the eggs, but only because your muscles are locked up. Did someone break into the apartment? Was Simon here when they did, or next door? Did they leave? Did he take them?

A sound makes you gasp before you bite your tongue hard enough to taste blood. And then again, a muffled groan, close, from the direction of your couch. 

It’s not Simon’s voice.

You gently set your bags down and reach behind the coats for the blackjack Simon insisted on leaving there for security. There’s a rustling. Another groan. You stoop low, trying to make yourself a smaller target, and creep around the edge of the couch.

When you see Johnny, bound and gagged, shirt covered in blood where he lies on the floor, your stomach drops so fast you feel dizzy.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you whisper, dropping the jack with a thump. You crawl over to him, looking around frantically. Simon is nowhere to be seen. But he did this. He had to have done this. Right?

Johnny twitches, groans again, eyelids fluttering open. When he sees you, his eyes go wide, and he frantically tries to sit up.

“No, don’t! I don’t know where you’re hurt,” you hiss. You reach around his head to untie the cloth that’s gagging him. “Oh my god-”

“We gotta get out’f here, bonnie,” he grunts, leaning into your hands as you help him upright. He spits blood on the floor. “No tellin’ when that mental bastard gets back.”

“Oh god,” you whisper again, touching the front of his shirt. It’s dark and sticky in a bloom across his chest. “Where are you hurt? Did he stab you?”

“Ah’m okay,” he grunts. “A bit banged up, but ah’ll live.”

You swallow down the urge to vomit. “There’s a lot of blood, Johnny.”

“S’nae all mine,” he answers. “C’mon, untie me, before Simon gets back.”

You’re shifting to reach behind him before your mind catches up. You can feel the blood drain from your face. “W-what? What did you say?”

“We need to get out of here!”

“No, you said his name, you called him - ”

“Simon? That’s what ye called him when you came home,” he hisses. 

“No, I didn’t,” you whisper, body stuttering between frozen and electrified. You never call Simon’s name where others can hear. “And - and I - you - you were unconscious.”

Shining blue eyes stare into yours from two inches away. Johnny’s bloody mouth curls into a smile. “Oh, he’s trained you up good, he has.”

You scream when he lunges forward, huge arms grabbing at you. 

His weight crushes the air out of your lungs when your back hits the ground. You twist under him, using the arm he hasn’t trapped to grab his hair and yank. He swears, and loosens his hold just enough that you’re able to free your other hand and jab him in the throat.

You expect the way that he chokes, but the hand he’s twisted in the back of your shirt stays locked tight. He coughs out a frenzied laugh as you twist. Your heart races as he prevents you from getting your knees up between your belly and his. But he doesn’t expect you to hammer the heel of your boot against the back of his knee, or how you use the leverage against his leg to roll away onto your belly. 

He doesn’t let go of you, but that’s fine, that’s okay, as long as you can reach under the edge of the couch. Johnny pounces, body curling around you without quite pinning you down. His fingers twist into your hair in an echo of how you wrenched at him. But he doesn’t stop your hand, grabbing the leg of the couch and then reaching under and up and-

“Try again, Bonnie,” Johnny chuckles into your ear when your hand meets nothing but cotton and wood.

Your heart doesn’t have time to stop. The grinding pain between your hip bone and the floor makes you pop up your pelvis and reach down. The tiny knife, Little K, jumps to your hand. It’s so easy to flick it open, you think you almost cut your own belly as you heave. Johnny rides you for a moment, then pops up onto his knees to let you roll freely.

You don’t have time to decide, gut or femoral, you just swing. Denim parts, pressure - 

Johnny yelps.

His weight is suddenly gone, and the arc of your arm slams the back of your hand and your elbow onto the carpet. It’s a shock, almost hard enough to make you drop the knife. You flick your eyes around, nearly blind with tunnel vision, and see Johnny standing over you. His jeans are slashed, outer thigh almost to crotch, but you can’t see blood, fuck.

He sways, oddly. Is your vision swimming? He doesn’t descend on you again, though, just laughs and wiggles. One of his feet isn’t on the ground, his injured leg is dangling, did you get him?

You imagine you can see Simon’s face, a little angry and a little amused. If you die here, Johnny will live to see his own intestines, you know it. Even if you survive, he won’t. Simon might gift you another skull. The thought almost has a laugh bubbling out of you. 

“You stupid motherfucker,” you hiss. 

“Oh, now you’ve done it.”

Simon’s voice startles you into action. You’re off your back and scrabbling backward in and instant as he manifests behind Johnny. Except, you realize, that Simon is holding Johnny up, one arm snaked under Johnny’s and hand around the back of his neck. That’s why Johnny looks off balance, it’s because he is, because Simon is here, he’s going to save you-

“Did real good, Precious,” Simon says with a grin. “Knew you’d get along.”

What? “What?”

Simon says something else, but you can barely hear him over your heart pounding in your ears. But you hear it when Johnny laughs. You see when Simon releases him with a ruffle to his mohawk and a shove toward the armchair. Before you know it, Simon’s scooped you into his arms and taken his usual seat on the couch. He pries the knife from your hand and snaps it closed. 

“Told you I was thinkin’ of gettin you a dog,” Simon rumbles, sitting you in his lap so your back is against his chest. Before you can protest that no, he never once mentioned a fucking dog, he continues, “This’n’s mostly ‘ousebroken, already. Soap needs a firm ‘and, but you c’n ‘andle him. 

Soap? What the fuck does soap have to do with anything? What kind of a name is…

"Oi!” Simon barks. “Off the furniture.”

Your stomach drops as you remember John Price, two months ago now. “Soap’s supposed to be my troublemaker, not you.” Soap.

When your wide eyes swing to him,  Johnny’s face is split into a toothy grin. He tips his head back against the seat of the arm chair. One of his hands touches the blood blooming through his jeans and brings it up to his lips. He laves his tongue over his fingers. “Ah’m lookin’ forward to gettin’ to know you, Bonnie.”

A part of you wants to get up and slit his throat. The rest of you slumps back into Simon’s chest and bursts into tears.

[hellfire--cult]

Stripper!Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

wc: 7.5k

Request by @pastel-pillows: Billy gets hired for a private party. The only rules is to keep it in his pants and for the clients to not touch him... Unless he says so.

+18 MDNI, stipper dancing, grinding, hard on, fingering, roughness, p in v, billy is OOC, he is not an ass, smut, smut, smut

A/N: This is Stripper!Billy from my Do I wanna Know Series. I love you ash for this request, and I hope you and every other horny person for Billy enjoys it.

REBLOGS are true support.

no charge

Billy looked at himself once more in the mirror before grabbing his duffel bag filled with other clothes and things he would need for tonight.

He pays no mind to these kinds of jobs, and Joyce is the one that arranges them. Clients can approach her to talk about hiring one of the strippers for one night for a private gathering or party. Joyce lays down the rules for every client, and she ensures their safety by having their GPS turned on at all times in their cellphones. The job lasts two hours, and if in two hours Joyce doesn’t have any notice from them, she sends someone to the address of the place they are heading over. 

The client must give many personal details such as their full name, legal address, real phone number and it is all cross checked with their IDs. Joyce is very strict when it comes to the boys' safety, so he is really thankful for her taking care of them this way. Not many bosses work the way she does, but Billy guesses it’s just her motherly instinct.

Today he was hired for a birthday party. The one that hired him was the birthday girl's best friend, and she was very direct when she asked for Billy specifically. He walked down the stairs and to see Steve playing with Eddie with the switch controllers as they stared at the screen. “Stop throwing shells at me!” Steve yells at Eddie who only laughs at his friend as he now stands at 4th place in Mario Kart. Billy rolls his eyes as he walks towards the front door.

“Hey! Remember to put the GPS on! We’ll be watching!” Eddie yells at him and Billy only sighs but internally he is grateful he is being taken care of by his closest friends as well.

“Yeah mom.” Billy retorts and then Steve is the one that speaks next.

“Don’t stick the dick in!” 

Billy only groans at that and walks out of the apartment to start heading to the address of the birthday girl. He knows about the rules and the clients know about them too. This is a dance only. The only hands that can be pressed on him are just on his shoulders and if he allows them, on his chest. They cannot touch him indecently in any way or at any point. If the rule is broken he has all the right to head out because he feels uncomfortable and he gets paid in full anyway. 

That happened a few times, but mostly with the older crowd. Women in their 40’s or 50’s. This party was of people his age from what he had read. He threw the duffel bag in the back of his camaro and turned on his GPS and immediately sent a message to Joyce telling her he was heading to the address. Joyce sent him a reminder to be careful and if at any point he has to bail out, to do so.

He starts his car and drives towards the suburban part of town. He has been here a few times for bachelorette parties, so he knows his way around. He looks at the piece of paper in order to get the street and number right and after driving for two more minutes, he reaches the house and he can already hear the music and some girl yelling. He looks at the window and he tries to figure out how many people are there.

A smirk spreads on his face when he sees the birthday girl. 

Oh, this was going to be one of those nights.

You giggled as you danced in the middle with your best friend, your other friends cheering you on. You had put some pink lights to make the space more fun, more enticing. 

It’s not every day that you turn 25, and what better way than to simply get drunk with all of your friends. It’s been so long since you had fun like this, and you can finally be free again thanks to your decision to break things off with your boyfriend after a year. The problem with him was that he was a prude, vanilla, and sadly that interfered with your feelings for him. It didn’t mean you didn’t love him, and it took a while for you to get over the breakup– even if you were the one that did it.

Attraction is very much needed in a relationship, and you had lost it completely for your ex.

He just didn’t want to try anything at all. You came up with ideas, positions and things you could both try and he didn’t find anything interesting. Not even some spanking. It became harder and harder to reach an orgasm with him, and the attraction slowly started fading away. Emotionally he was perfect, but he didn’t match that physically. It had angered you that he wasn’t even willing to try anything for you, so that also impulsed your decision to break things off.

The doorbell rang and you immediately stopped dancing with your best friend and you looked at her with a confused look on your face and then scanned the room. Everyone was here. You didn’t invite anyone else. You let go of her in order to go get the door but was stopped by her with a smile on her face.

“Don’t! Just, stay there, I’ll get it!” You were frowning at the situation but then you saw all your friends giggling with one another, Jeremiah smiling at you as he got a chair right in the middle of the room. What is going on?

“Don’t kill us…” He says to you and you are still staring at him as he looks over your shoulder and you see him giggle with a blush to his face, stepping back into his chair. Heavy boots could be heard as they walked into the living room and you slowly turned around and you really thought that a Greek god of some sort just entered your house. 

He had the brightest set of eyes you’ve ever seen, piercing even, blonde curls styled and pulled back into a half ponytail with some falling towards his shoulders. He was built, and tall, and you couldn’t help but almost salivate as you stared at his plump lips. Lips that slowly spread, showing off his bright teeth to you. 

“Is this the birthday girl?” The man asked and his voice just sent a shiver down your spine instantly. Your best friend snickered behind him and nodded, saying your name to him.

“This is our gift baby, from all of us.” She was smirking at you and then the room cheered. They… They got you a stripper. Oh dear god… You weren’t prepared for this, you’ve never experienced what a stripper could do, never went to a show but– You should have. If men like this work there then it is worth every penny and you were so grateful to your friends right now.

The man took a few steps towards you, his eyes locked with yours, and it might be the alcohol you’ve been drinking but everything simply grows hot as he raises a hand up and places it on your chin, tilting it upwards for you to look at him more properly.

“I’m Billy.” You were completely certain that you looked dazed, as if hypnotized by this man’s looks. You heard Jeremiah woo at him and Billy only chuckled as he leaned towards you. “One rule for you birthday girl. You don’t touch me unless I want you to, got that?”

You nod dumbly at that request, and it was going to be hard to keep your hands to yourself, but out of respect you knew you had to. Billy lets go of your chin, and he turns around to give a nod to your best friend. She bit her lip and headed over to her phone to change the music. He put a request for songs for tonight, and he had asked your preference of dance.

He wanted to know if you would like it rough, or exciting, or slow and enticing. When he gave your best friend his options, she instantly went for slow, yet rough at some parts because she said, and he quotes ‘You needed it.’. He didn’t press for more questions but Joyce did, just so she would know your mental situation and for Billy to know exactly what to do and what to not overdo. 

You needed to be shown what you have been missing the past year.

Billy sat you down on the chair your friends had placed in the middle of the room as they all were sitting around it, small cheers and whistles being heard as your eyes never left Billy’s. He didn’t expect to dance for someone like you tonight. You caught his eye the moment he saw you whipping your hips from side to side as he looked through the window of your home outside. 

There was this carnal need growing inside of him, but he had to focus on the job, not let it get to his head. One of the things he had to make sure of in these kinds of parties or small side jobs was to never, ever, get hard. It wasn’t impossible to do so really, since he was always the one grinding on the people, but if he does get hard it might give the wrong message, and people might feel entitled to touch him, thinking they can do it, just because he is a man with normal reactions.

‘Renegade’ by Aaryan Shah started playing on the speakers and your breathing hitched at the rain sound at the beginning of it. You took a shaky breath in as he started circling around you, his hand softly grazing all over your shoulders, and when the beat started, his hands pressed on your biceps, dragging them all the way down, slowly, and not putting pressure on his fingertips but it was enough to make your skin grow goosebumps from it.

“I’m gonna make you feel wanted…” You didn’t even notice he had gotten close to your ear from behind, his hot breath hitting your skin making you shiver and his low whisper sent a shock that reached your center. Your mind was blocking out everyone else, slowly, as if your friends weren’t cheering you on, or him for that matter. 

“Please…” You replied to him and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to hear you through the music, but he did, and his eyes almost widened at your boldness. You really needed this. He took the opportunity while standing behind you to push his sneakers off by placing the tip of his foot at the back of each and pulling.

He kept circling you until he was standing in front of you again, a smirk on his face as he suddenly ripped his jacket open, taking it off in one swift motion and you were so focused on his face before that you did not notice that he was wearing a button up shirt that was half closed, showing off his chest and some of his abs. 

Your breathing stopped at the sight and he chuckled at your expression. He definitely knew he was attractive, never an ounce of self doubt about that, and that’s what made this job easy for him. But there was something in your eyes that was different from the other girls and women he danced for– Something that was making his body grow a little hotter at each flick of your eyes towards his body.

There was genuine and pure lust in them.

He knew there was desire for him with all those other clients, but you… There was something else, as if you were hungry, starving even. He motioned for you to give him your hand and you took a second to notice what he was saying, raising a shaking hand to him. He licked his lips and bit the bottom one as he made you grip the middle of his open shirt, right under his pecs. 

He gripped your hand tightly, and made you pull it down in one hard motion, surprising you, and all of his buttons flew away as his shirt flew completely open, revealing all of his abdomen to you. You felt your mouth salivate at the sight, the rhythm of the song blasting in your ears, making the moment much more seductive. 

You were expecting strippers to be rough, manhandling you around as you’ve seen in tik tok videos, or instagram, and even magic mike, and just grinding on you aggressively. You didn’t expect this man to be moving slowly, yet it was sending fire currents all over your body at each sudden movement he did.

Billy took his shirt off and smirked as he threw it towards your other friend, Jeremiah, who squealed in delight at it. You had forgotten about your friends, and your eyes blinked as you looked around and you saw all the clapping and cheering going around, only to be pulled back into that bubble of arousal as you felt strong hands grip your chin again, and make you look up into blue orbs that were staring back at you intensely.

“Your attention is only mine tonight. Keep it that way.” Billy smirked as you stared up at him, an amused look on your face. He never expected responses from his dominance, most of the time they just nod at him and let him proceed, but you… you wiped Billy’s smirk away as you smiled at him and actually retorted back to him.

“Yes Sir.”

That word shot right to his dick. He cursed at you in his mind, shaking the feeling of rising arousal he was feeling to keep going with his job. He pulled his hand away from you only for both of your hands to be grabbed by him, pulling you up from the chair, causing you to gasp as you stand on both of your trembling knees. 

He smirked at how you slightly wobbled and he made you press your hands against his chest and then guided you, very slowly, over his chest and down to his abdomen. He was expecting you to be looking at where your hands were going, but your eyes kept locked against his all the time. Your hands were on fire at every dent you passed by, at the heat of his skin, but you didn’t press your hands on him.

And for some reason, Billy was disliking that.

He licked his lips, a smirk appearing on his face as he looked down at his jeans and then back up at you. You followed his gaze and your eyes widened, looking up at him again wondering if you understood right. He guided your hands towards his happy trail, making you graze your fingertips on his V shape and he almost let out a groan at the feeling. Your eyes were now stuck at his form, feeling the soft hairs that went beneath the hem of his denims.

“Open them up.” There were cheers and whistles around at the request, but you couldn’t hear them, just the soft bass that played on the song. Your fingers swiftly unbuttoned his jeans and you took a deep breath in as you got hold of the zipper and started pulling it down. Billy could feel the tip of your thumb as you glided it down with the metal and he felt it. He felt how his bulge was slowly growing. 

You looked up at him when everything was undone and he tilted his head at you, as if telling you that you are missing something. He nodded once towards the floor and back at you, and you felt your heart beating into your ears as you slowly started getting on your knees in front of him. 

And Billy cursed inwardly once more. You look so fucking beautiful like this. 

He almost never took his pants off at a performance. But oh he wanted to right now. He chuckled as you kept yourself on the floor and he walked to your side and then behind you. He felt himself starting to lose control of his desire because you just looked too exquisite to him. It wasn’t that the other clients were not of his liking, but you… something was coming out of your body, almost like pheromones that were pulling him in.

He pressed a hand on your shoulder and he gave you a soft push, enough to make you lose some balance and get on all fours as your hands landed on the floor. Billy couldn’t contain the smirk inside of him because you were completely unaware of your friends around you. You weren’t paying any mind to them any longer and it was all thanks to him. Now he understands what your best friend meant by you needing it. 

Your heart thumped in your chest and your eyes widened when he pressed his hips against your ass, and you felt him. He was hard. It was something normal, wasn’t it? They grind on clients and it is normal for them to get hard. Billy on the other hand, couldn’t help himself as he pressed against you and that made him even harder than before, not caring any longer about the people in the room, just like you weren’t paying mind to them.

He pressed onto you even rougher, prompting you to finally lay down on the floor, hands on both sides of your head as it turned to look at him over your shoulder. Billy salivated at the hazy look in your eyes, pupils blown wide, and he chuckled at you while getting on top of your body, his face coming close to your ear, softly whispering to you.

“Stay still.” And that you did, feeling your thighs clench at his order, cheeks becoming flushed as you wondered what he was going to do. He smirked as he raised himself up on his hands as he hovered over your body and then he parted his legs even wider so he could have some leverage. His hips started swaying back and forth into a sensual motion, grazing over your bottom half every time he went down.

You gasped at the sensual movement, and you held in a groan as the wetness started to soak your underwear. This man had you in a curse at the moment, and you didn’t know if you wanted it to be cured. Were you that desperate that a stripper is making you feel this way? He is just doing his job which is just dancing, nothing more to it.

But fuck will it rise your expectations for other men now.

Billy’s eyebrow twitched as he looked down at you, and all he could think about was ripping that shirt off your body, to feel your skin under his palm. He stops grinding and his hand snakes to the front of your throat and he pulls you with him as he kneels back up. His chest presses against your back, a moan coming out of your throat.

You wanted to take your hand back, to be able to touch him, rub him, feel him. But your hands were kept in place, not wanting this to be over. If you did as you desired he will stop this and leave, and that’s the last thing you want. Billy couldn’t contain himself as he broke his own personal rule and pressed his bulge against your ass, and you heard him growl in his throat.

Your head was spinning and suddenly you felt his free hand grip yours, and your eyes widened when he guided you to where you wanted your hand to actually be. He made you stick your hand into his open pants and you could cup his hardness into your hand. His breath was in your ear and you were sure he was giving you permission now to do as you please, so in front of everyone, you moved your hand, slowly, up and down on his bulge. 

Billy had made up his mind at this point. He is going to break every single rule, every single warning sign thrown out the window. He was going to get his phone out of his bag, message Joyce, and Eddie and Steve that he will take a little bit longer. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his fingers splayed all over your throat, massaging it gently, and his lips came close to your ear, his hot breath fanning onto it.

“Can I give you a present?” He felt you stiffen, and he smirked as your hand stopped rubbing on him due to shock, but then he groaned into your skin as you began to move your hand even harder on him, surprising him as you turned your head to look at him with a smirk on your face.

“A gift?” You dared to ask and he could only smile at you, his lips coming close to yours, hovering over them, and you were dying to move forward and press them against his. You wanted to taste this man, and the next words he said to you made your body tremble suddenly with an urgent need.

“No charge.”

That’s when he pushed you off him and your eyes seemed to come back to reality for a few seconds, the yelling and cheering from your friends sipping into your ears. Sounds you had blocked out completely all this while, dissociating from the world that was around you and Billy. You looked up towards your best friend who had a wide eyed look on her friend as she covered her mouth with her hand. 

Billy walked around you, a smirk on his face all the while, and he went to grab his bag that he left on the front door, winking at your best friend as he passed by, and then he turned around to face you again, tilting his head as if waiting for you to make the next move. 

“Turn the music all the way up.” Those were your simple instructions and your friends cheered on you as you walked towards the stripper you met just a few moments ago. Your best friend gave you a wink and a motion for you to not lock the door. Your friends protected you just in case… because Billy is still a stranger. No matter what the job is, he still is one and you don’t know him.

What you do know, is the size of his dick. And you definitely need it inside of you.

You walk towards him to get hold of his free hand, his jeans still unbuttoned and open, the bulge just trying to break free from them. You gave him one look as if asking one last time if it was okay and he gave you a wink with a teeth showing grin. You turned the both of you and headed upstairs as the music started to increase in volume. You didn’t really care if your friends heard you, not when you deserved this. 

Billy took the opportunity that you had your back towards him to take his phone out of the side pocket of the bag as it hung on his shoulder. He texted his friends and then Joyce. His boss knows what it means when they say it’s taking a little longer, no need to clarify. She always sends a be careful and to keep the GPS on. Eddie is the one to reply to him and he almost lets out a snort at the message.

‘Wrap it.’

Billy puts the phone back in the bag, and then grabs onto the small metallic package he has there, tucking it into his back pocket, as you walk down the hallway of your home. Billy was amazed by your age and the fact that you own a home. None of his business on how you got it, but it was still intriguing. The music, even if loud, was becoming distant, even if a bit, and you were happy your room wasn’t above the living room. 

You opened the door to your bedroom, and the nerves finally kicked in. All the confidence you had earlier on to make a move were now squashed as you turned around to see Billy closing the door behind him, looking down at you as his bag dropped to the floor. Your breathing stammering slightly, not knowing how to move on from here. It’s been so long since you’ve been with a man other than your ex, so you didn’t know how to start this off like you used to.

But Billy knew what you needed, from the moment he saw you, the moment your best friend said your preference. He knew, and he was glad you needed something like that because he loves it that way. 

His hand shot up suddenly, grabbing you by the shoulders and turning you both around so that he could slam you against the closed door. You gasped at how he manhandled you so effortlessly and just took you completely by surprise. He towered over you, gazing down at your eyes and you could feel your knees trembling at how intense his eyes were. His hand raised up to put it under your chin and hold your eyes to his own.

“You need it badly, don’t you? You need a real man–” He pressed his hips against yours and you could feel his bulge against your lower belly, making you whimper against your throat. “To treat you like you deserve.”

You felt yourself clench at nothing in his voice. He had you in the palm of his hand, and his eyes were looking down at you, as if waiting for something. This man knows you want him, but you also know that this man wants you just the same, and that is boosting your ego and your confidence. You never imagined a guy like him to look twice your way… but here he was. A smile spread on your lips as you answered back to him.

“Yes sir~”

At your purr Billy’s lips instantly slammed on yours, a moan escaping your mouth and into his as he did so. His hands moved towards your wrists and he grabbed onto them, pulling them up above your head and using one hand to hold them together and staying there. You were surprised at the sudden movement, a whine coming out of your mouth, while his lips were pulled into a grin in between the kiss. 

His lips moved against yours, roughly, seeking for more as his body fully pressed against yours, chest against chest, and his other free hand went towards your neck, pressing your head against the door as well. You felt yourself becoming wetter by the second, and you moaned in surprise as his thigh came in between your legs, pressing harshly against your center, the seam of your jeans pressing just right against your clit.

He chuckled into the kiss and pulled away, barely, so he could look at your face. Your eyes turned half lidded and wanton moans escaped your lips every time he pressed his knee even harder on you. He took his tongue out and ran it through your bottom lip, gently. You tasted divine, but he wasn’t here to be gentle tonight. He knew you didn’t want him to be gentle either.

Your hips started moving against his thigh, and he looked down at your movements as you rode him. He felt his cock twitch in his underwear, and he looked back up to your face and he took his hand away from your neck. He was surprised to hear you whine at the loss of his grip, but he then started sliding his hand down, reaching the button of your pants, making your eyes snap wide to look at him.

“Let me show you what you’ve been missing, sweets.” The grip on your wrists tightened as he unbuttoned your jeans and pulled your zipper down. You couldn’t hear the music or anything but your beating heart. It was just a constant pumping of blood in your ear. You felt his fingertips slide into the elastic of your panties, and you shivered at the tickling sensation he was leaving behind each time he inched closer to your cunt.

“Please, please Billy…” You begged, and who was Billy to deny you when you asked so nicely? He smiled down at you as his fingers found the bundle of nerves that made a moan come out of your lips without shame. He gave it a few circling motions and your hips were trying to grind against him.

His face leaned down towards your neck, inhaling deeply to take in your scent, your perfume. You whimpered when you felt his hand moving lower and his lips closing onto the skin of your neck, leaving kisses over it. You gasped when he suddenly ran his fingers through your drenched folds, making your skin flush completely, a chuckle escaping his lips and onto your neck.

“Look how wet you already are, baby.” Your arms were starting to hurt from being pinned for this long above your head, but that pain was thrown out of the window when you felt a finger of his running over and over your folds in order to wet it before entering you. You gasped as you threw your head back, leaving Billy more access to your neck.

He was becoming drunk of how wet you were for him as he pumped his finger in and out of you. Damn, he really wanted to taste you now, but he had to move quickly. He couldn’t spend the night here, nor take his sweet time with you. At least… not today.

“Billy– Billy, fuck–” You were moaning his name, and he couldn’t help himself but bite onto your neck as he inserted a second finger in you, his pace quickening. You couldn’t believe how good you could feel with just fingers. He was curling them in the right position, hitting your spongy spot over and over, rubbing his fingertips against it. 

He let go of your neck in order to kiss you again so he could swallow your moans into his throat. He took the opportunity of your mouth being open and his mouth instantly slipped in, clashing against yours. You tasted divine. If you tasted like this in your mouth, his resolve of not eating you out was wavering. 

His tongue danced with yours, his fingers going deep inside you, curled as he pressed the belly of his palm against your clit and moved his hand rapidly back and forth, making the movements of your tongue falter as loud moans went from your throat to his. He pulled away in order to hear you and your loud whimpers were music to his ears.

“Fuck, look at you…” He was mesmerized by you, your head thrown back onto the door as his fingers kept moving. He then stopped all together, making you whine at the loss of friction. You were feeling so good and he decided to stop now? His hand finally lets go of your wrists and you sigh in relief as you pull them down to your sides once again. His fingers leave you, and he pulls them out of your underwear to look at them. 

You are looking at him as he smirks at you, taking his fingers into his mouth, his eyes closing as he tastes you on his tongue. Fuck, you were sweeter down there. He should have eaten you out instead of fingering you. He moaned into his fingers and you clenched onto nothing at the sound. 

When his fingers left his mouth, he opened his eyes to find yours. His hands then grabbed the hem of your pants and he crouched in order to pull them down along with your now soaked underwear. You couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment. You stepped out of them and he stood up as he scanned you again.

“W–What?”

“Take your shirt off.” You gulped at how demanding he sounded, but you complied in just a second. You pulled your shirt over your head and threw it across the room. He raised a finger towards the strap of your red lace bra, pulling it to only let it go so it would snap against your skin, making you gasp. “Cute, but it needs to go too.”

You lick your lips and you take your hands behind you to unclasp your bra. His eyes were digging holes onto every part of your body from how intense he was looking at you. You took the bra off and threw it somewhere, and you really didn’t care if it got lost. He stood there, just taking your naked body in. His dick twitched again and he knew this was his limit.

You saw him reach behind him and then put something in his mouth. Your eyes widened when you saw the aluminum foil square that is in between his teeth. He smirked at you as he pulled his pants and boxers down. He didn’t step out of them just yet, and one of his hands grabbed onto the foil, and with his teeth he ripped it open, taking the rubber out. 

Your eyes went down towards his dick and, holy shit. He was huge. Your sense of touch was spot on before. His bulge felt… bulky, and now you can confirm it was because he was big. He followed your gaze and he chuckled, making your eyes look back up at him again. He licked the inside of his bottom lip as he handed the rubber to you.

Your breathing was heavy as you grabbed onto it, and you pressed onto the tip to then roll it down onto his cock. He threw his head back in a circle at the feel of your hands around him. The primal part of him switched on, and he was going to show you what he could do, what the others didn’t dare to do to you.

Your hands immediately flew away as you saw him crouch again, his hands cupping right under your ass and prompting you to jump. His hands cupped your ass tightly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, your legs around his waist so you wouldn’t fall. He smirked at you as he pressed you harder against the wall so he could take one hand away from your ass so he could line himself up to you.

You threw your head back, a loud moan escaping you as you start feeling the stretch of him entering you. His hand went back to cupping your ass, holding you up and onto the wall. He cursed under his breath as he felt how tight you were. He kept moving forward into you, gasps escaping your lips that caused him to grin at you.

“Fu-Fuck–” You were already cock drunk, and he hadn’t bottomed out yet. You heard him call out your name to you and you looked down to see him smirking at you, making you frown slightly only for him to slam himself inside of you in one motion, knocking the air out of your lungs in a choke. 

“You’re so fucking tight, you’re sucking me in.” He groaned out as he felt you clenching around him, adjusting to him as you writhed on his hold. He then moved his hips back and then back in, first in a slow movement as he started building up in tempo, each minute that passed. 

Moans soon filled the room, the slamming of your body against the door as he thrusted in and out of you as you started falling into a state of euphoria. You never felt like this before. You had your share of experiences, but it was never like this, and he just stuck his dick in. He didn’t do anything special, but the foreplay and the edging was enough to make you lose your head the instant he put the tip in.

Your hands were digging onto his shoulders as you chanted his name like a mantra, bodies becoming sweaty as he started increasing his pace, your moans becoming louder and some whimper were thrown into the mix as well. His pelvis was hitting against your clit thanks to the position as well, the burning in your belly starting to form. 

“It feels so good, it feels so fucking good–!” You were starting to moan out words, things you never did before. You never liked dirty talking and that was because it had never been done to you. He chuckled and you felt him grip onto your ass cheeks even tighter and he pulled you both off the door so he could stand up straight, his back a little bit bent backwards.

“Yeah?” He smirked as he used his strength to raise you up and then make you fall down on his dick again. You moaned loudly at that, the new position letting him hit your G-spot perfectly. His hands guided you up and down so you would bounce on his cock, your arms now wrapped completely around his shoulders. 

You nodded dumbly as you felt your eyes becoming teary from how deep he was hitting you and it never stopped, in and out, in and out. Your mouth fell open with silent moans, with whimpers, whines, groans, huffs of air. Billy was trying to hold them in, but you felt exquisite on his dick, tight, and clenching every so often, so many grunts escaped into the air from his throat.

“Shit– Oh god–” Your belly was burning, the coil turning, tightening, and he could feel it, so he braced himself on his feet in order to slam you even harder down on his dick in a slow pace. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at the ceiling, your vision starting to go white as the burning sensation came closer and closer, your walls clenching around him repeatedly.

“Come on baby, cum on my dick, come on… Let me feel you.” The dirty talking did it for you. The elastic band snapped instantly, and you let out a loud cry of his name as your walls clenched tightly around him and he growled as he tried to move but you were sucking him in and not letting go. Your legs trembled around him as your nails started to dig on his back. 

He rode your high until he felt you unclench, the both of you breathing heavily as he sits inside of you. He could feel your body starting to slump on him, making it harder to keep you up. He licked his lips and backed up towards your bed, turning around to throw you into it. It took you by surprise, snapping you back to reality, looking up at him through the tears of your eyes.

“You didn’t–?” You asked innocently and Billy only smirked through his panting. 

“On all fours.” He ordered and you took a deep breath in to hide the gasp as you complied, your ass facing him as your knees and hands were on the mattress of the bed, your calves and feet hanging off the edge of the bed. 

“Like this?” You ask as you wiggle your ass for him, teasingly, and Billy was surprised you still had this spark in you. Maybe it was a spark that never came out before because the chance had never presented itself for you.

“Put your fucking ass up.” You gasped at how rough he sounded, but a small smirk appeared on your face as you slowly laid your upper body down on the bed, your back arching forward so you could stick your ass out even more for him. 

“Like this~?” You purr this time and you hear a hum of approval, only to then feel a hand slamming against one of your ass cheeks, causing you to choke out a moan in surprise. 

“What a view.” He was salivating as he looked at the roundness of your cheeks, wanting to sink his teeth on your flesh. You wiggled your ass at him again and he chuckled in desire as he raised his hand up to slap your other ass cheek, making you yelp and clench onto thin air, a smile on your face that was on the mattress. “Forward.”

You complied and moved your body a little more into the middle of the bed so he could kneel in between your legs. He grabbed onto his dick and rubbed the tip on your clit, slapping it a few times which caused you to whimper. He pressed the tip in through your fold and didn’t wait for a second to grab your hips and slam himself back into you.

You moaned against the bed as his pace turned brutal, piercing even. He didn’t do the slow pace at first like before, but you didn’t mind the roughness, you actually loved it. This is what you always needed, what you always wanted, and it was finally being given to you. 

Billy threw his head back as his eyes closed at how much you were clenching around him still thanks to the overstimulation. He growled when he looked down at the bouncing of your ass against his hips, seeing himself going in and out of you. He raised his hand up and smacked your ass again, seeing it jiggle as he kept thrusting in and out of you.

You choked out a moan and he could see the smile on your face as he repeated the action, two and three more times. He smirked as he pulled himself forward, and his hand came to the side of your head, and he pressed you against the mattress even more, making you instinctively raise your ass up even more as your knees slid down a little bit. 

His thrusts became deep and the sound of skin slapping bounced from wall to wall. Your moans were muffled against the mattress, and your smile was still on your lips as his hand pressed even harder on the side of your head. You were immediately feeling the burning sensation in your belly and you wanted him to touch you, you needed it again.

“Billy, Billy, I need to cum again, please–” SMACK. 

“You’re going to cum with my cock only, so fucking take what I give you.” You moaned at his words, your bodies going back and forth from how deep he was moving in you. 

“Yes Sir, yes Sir!” His dick twitched inside of you at your chants, and he groaned loudly mixed with a moan as he felt his balls clench with the need to cum. He needed to cum while you clenched around him, and he knew you were close thanks to your walls fluttering every so often as he kept thrusting into you, his hand still pressing onto your head.

The thrill of it, the roughness and the sound of his groans from how good he was feeling with you made your belly explode again, even harder than before. You yelled onto the mattress as your vision turned white, your mind becoming mush as you clenched tightly around him as if it were a life source.

“Fuck–” He gave more thrusts, fast and deep ones until the last two faltered slightly and then a moan escaped his lips as he spilled into the condom. He trembled as ropes of cum left him, one after the other. He was breathing heavily as he tried to come back to earth. He looked down at you and he let go of your head to reveal you huffing for air against the mattress. “You with me?”

You gave him one nod and he winced when he pulled out of you, slowly, and you whined at the emptiness of it. He pulled the condom off and he was surprised by how much he had spilled inside of it. It’s been a while since he came this hard. His eyes turned to your figure and a smirk appeared on his face. He called out your name and that made you snap back into reality, turning around on the bed to lay down on your back.

“Yeah…?” It was a soft moan, your breath still trying to settle into a normal rhythm again. 

Billy came back home only to find Eddie still up and talking on the phone with his girl. 

“It’s 1 AM. What are you two doing up?” Billy groans as he walks towards the kitchen, throwing the duffel bag onto the floor. He was wearing the extra clothes he took in there, and Eddie examined him, up and down. 

“Well… was it a good show?” Billy opened the fridge and took a water bottle out and took a long sip out of it. He looked at Eddie a smirk forming on his face once more. 

“I may have found a student myself.” 

A/N: Im getting to write my pending requests, so be patient with me. I hope you all enjoyed this smutty thing, and I love billy so sue me.

I love you ash.

[leeknow-thoughts]

hey i’m the 2minjeong anon, can i request jilix to destroy the reader whole since the reader kept on teasing them about being submissive babygirls (but they’re the complete opposite)

୨୧ ESPRESSO

𝝑𝝔 cw : mommy!lix, daddy!jisung, poly!JILIX, mxm action, 3way, degrading, oral (ji and reader rec.), Dom!Jilix

𝝑𝝔 a/n : gang I fw jilix so much I went a LITTLE off my rocker when I read this ask. my dearest 2minjeong anon welcome back into my ask box I missed you bb :3 ALSO school starts up for me on the 8th so I probably won't be as active !! I promise I'll still try and yap on here as much as I can <3

Your eyes are on your phone, scrolling through TikTok, stumbling across a video about Jisung and Felix, and you can't help but laugh at the way the video portrays them. Their compilation of pouty and sassy moments led the comments to calling them 'the babygirls of skz'. You can't help but laugh at the nickname, it was true at times, but for the most part, in bed at least, they called the shots. "You know-" you begin and Jisung is quick to interrupt you with a groan, "what do you mean ugh?"

"Every time you start off a sentence with 'you know', you're going to say something not very smart."

"That's literally bullshit, I'm smart all the time, aren't I, Pixie?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Felix mumbles.

"You're both so fake, but whatever! I could make you both my bitches so easily," you announce.

"Is that all you wanted to say?" Jisung questions.

"I-uh well yeah?"

Felix, however is more defensive, "that's such bullshit," he scoffs.

"Whatever you say," you pause, "babygirl," you can't help but stifle your laughter as you mock him, "and you too Ji, I could easily have my way with the two of you."

"Yeah?" Jisung's eyebrows are raised in amusement, "sure you could."

That's what started the whole thing, you babying them anywhere and everywhere the three of you went. Cutting their steaks at restaurants, talking to them in a baby voice, and calling them 'babygirl' nonstop.

Honestly, the two of them didn't mind that much, going along with the joke, even playing into it at times. That was until you treated them like that in front of their group mates at dinner. "Here you go babygirl," you pass a piece of steak to Jisung and he gives you a very unamused look.

"Babygirl?!" Jeongin is practically screaming, doubling over on Hyunjin, who is laughing so hard you think he may lose his voice.

Chris is trying not to choke on the piece of steak in his mouth as he looks at Jisung's face. "I knew it!" Minho cheers through a smile, "Jisung is a sub."

"Nuh uh!" Jisung is quick to try and defend himself.

"Power bottom at most," Changbin snorts from his seat across from you.

"Oh God," Seungmin is laughing so hard he's crying, wiping a tear from his eye, "Lix is one too I just know it."

"I'm not," Felix defends himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Power bottom at most," you copy Changbin.

Your remark has the boys cackling, getting weird looks from others at the restaurant.

You're sandwiched between Jisung and Felix as the three of you walk back to your apartment, Felix's right hand in the back pocket of your jeans, Jisung's left arm hugging around your waist. "That whole stunt you pulled back there was amusing," Felix whispers so that only you and Jisung can hear him, "if only they knew what a slut you are for us."

It feels like all the air was knocked out of your lungs, "I-I," you stumble over your words.

"Why are you so quiet, jagi?" Jisung hums, "I thought you were the one in charge?"

When you stay silent Felix speaks again, "don't worry, darling, we'll remind you of your place tonight."

The thought of what they're going to do to you has you whimpering.

As soon as you're inside your apartment Jisung has you shoved against the wall, his lips on your own. You can feel him grinding his semi-hard cock on your leg, "Ji," Felix's voice is deeper than usual, "come on, have some kind of resolve," Felix is scolding the older boy.

"Look at her, Lix," Jisung is moaning, "can't help it."

"Maybe Changbin hyung was right, maybe you are just a power bottom," Felix rolls his eyes, "because you're just a brain-dead cum dump, I guess I'll be the one deciding what to do to you," he degrades.

A whimper comes from your throat. "You're gonna go sit on the bed and take off your clothes, you have five minutes," Felix dismisses you.

You swiftly obey his orders, you peel your clothes off and undo your shoes, throwing them into the abyss of your bedroom.

"What's the safeword?" Felix says as he's opening the door, Jisung following after him.

"Red," you blurt.

Jisung is smiling at you softly, "remember you say that anytime you want and we stop, mkay? Remember, we both love you so much."

You knew you were in for it when Jisung said that, one of them always made sure to remind you that they love you before they fuck your brains out.

"Open your legs," Felix commands.

You uncross your legs and shyly begin opening them, however, Felix who had grown impatient of your shyness, roughly spreads your legs wide open. Revealing your sopping wet cunt.

"God, you're such a whore," he runs a finger through your folds, pushing his pointer finger in your hole.

He grins and pushes another finger in your dripping hole, before quickly pulling them out. "Open," he is talking about your mouth.

Your jaw drops and he puts his pointer and middle finger slick with your juices in your mouth. And you taste your essence while sucking on Felix's fingers like they're an ice pop. "That's it," Felix praises.

The thumb on Felix's spare hand rubs your clit so softly, making you jolt with every feather-like motion of his finger. "Such a sensitive little pussy," he coos above you.

He removes his fingers from your mouth and kneels down so he is eye level with your cunt. He keeps eye contact when he softly kisses your clit. A moan rips from your throat at the jolt of electricity that runs through your body.

"Such a messy little pussy," Jisung tuts.

Felix sucks on your clit while expertly fingering your dripping hole. The whole sensation making your body contort from pleasure. Your eyes travel over to Jisung who is watching you get your pussy eaten with an almost dehumanizing gaze. A gaze that has your cunt clenching.

You are chanting a matra of their names as Felix plays with you like you're a toy. "I think you're wet enough now," Felix figures before you can cum.

You whine at the withdraw of his mouth and fingers to your cunt. "Aw last time I checked, desperate sluts like yourself aren't allowed to complain," he spits.

"C'mon, want you on all fours," Felix taps your inner thigh, signalling you to get up.

You eagerly flip over onto all fours, and Felix's fingers push into your hole again. The feeling catches you off guard and makes you yelp from the sudden jolt of pleasure.

"That's it honey, just focus on feeling good," Felix coos with faux sympathy.

Felix removes his fingers and lines his cock up with your entrance. He slowly pushes in, letting you feel every vein and curve of his dick. "Mommy! It-it oh my God!" you cry.

He doesn't stay still for long, before giving you time to adjust he is slamming back into you. His cock hits the spot that makes you go cross-eyed and moan out. "Open," Jisung is tapping your cheek, his hard cock in front of your face.

Your jaw drops and he is quick to stick his dick down your throat, "isn't she cute like this, Lix? Full of cock like a stupid pocket pussy," Jisung is groaning, pushing your head at the rhythm he chooses.

His degrading words have your cunt clenching around Felix's cock, "she is," Felix agrees through a moan, "such a good cum dump, just for us."

You're gagging on Jisung's cock as it hits the back of your throat, tears spilling down your face. "Oh look at this, she's crying on my cock," Jisung's voice is condescending, "I know, I know, it just feels so good with mommy fucking your little cunt and daddy fucking your throat."

Felix's pace is fucking hypnotizing, hitting every spot inside you that has you gushing. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your orgasm. Toppling over the edge once Felix's hand reaches down to rub your clit.

You barely have time to revel in the feeling of your orgasm because Jisung is cumming down your throat, "swallow it like a good girl," he commands.

You have no more brain power at this point, happily swallowing Jisung's cum. "You gonna cum, Lixie?" Jisung asks the younger man.

Jisung is pulling his cock out of your mouth and walking back behind you, and you can hear the unmistakable sound of Jisung making out with Felix while Felix is still fucking your cunt.

"Mommy! Please!" you yelp.

Felix cums with a heavenly groan and you feel his cum seeping into your swollen pussy. "Who's the submissive one now?" Felix taunts with a blissful smile.