#Lace is nowhere to be found

[pickled-flowers]

Back on my edgy shit i guess

[mrsmiroir]

“i have to buy goth clothes on shein because i can’t find any goth clothes where i live” sister that’s because you’re looking for killstar or disturbia or tripp nyc or whatever. stop looking for brands and start looking for individual pieces because i guarantee you that even your thrift store in bumfuck nowhere has at least one (1) black article of clothing.

[sunni-stuff]

Part 1 This is part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

With the train ride now over, the sergeants ran, scouring the market for two familiar faces. Their footsteps in sync, crunching delicate mounds of white snow. Soap broke through the crowd first, then Gaz and Gary were right with him.

“Where the hell are they?” Gaz pants out, his breaths misting in the cold air.

“You said the marketplace,” Soap huffs.

“Yeah, I said the marketplace, but it's not like I know exactly where they went!” Gaz snaps back.

While the two sergeants bicker, Roach quietly breaks away, scanning the area until he spots the familiar figures they’d been hunting for. Price and Ghost stand outside a cigar shop, deep in conversation. The satisfied grin on Price's face tells Roach everything—he got what he was after.

“They’re over there!” Roach exclaims, snapping his partners out of their lovers' quarrel.

Gaz and Soap go silent, their eyes following Roach’s line of sight until they, too, spot their Lieutenant and Captain.

In a heartbeat, the three of them are sprinting toward their unsuspecting targets. Soap grins like a madman, practically buzzing with mischief, while Gaz shakes his head, both amused and slightly wary of what might unfold. Roach, meanwhile, is simply thrilled to be along for the ride.

They skid to a stop right in front of the two men, chests heaving as they catch their breath in the biting winter air.

“The hell is wrong with you lot?” Price’s voice cuts through, laced with a mix of annoyance and bemusement as he shifts his attention from Ghost to the winded sergeants.

Ghost, arms crossed, eyes them with quiet scrutiny. His winter coat does little to conceal his bulky frame, a silent reminder of his imposing presence as he stands beside Price.

Price and Ghost waited for an explanation, knowing well everytime those three got together, they were definitely up to no good.

Like how they put semi-permanent green dye in Ghost's shampoo for Halloween.

“We… we saw. A kid with your face,” Gaz manages, still catching his breath, pointing straight at Ghost.

Ghost raises a brow, baffled. A kid with his face? What the hell did that mean? Did they think he looked like a baby?

Soap huffs in mock disappointment, shooting a playful glare at Gaz. “Oi, I wanted to say it!”

Predictably, the two dive into another back-and-forth. Gaz isn’t one to shout, but Soap has a talent for riling anyone up.

Price lets their little show go on for only a moment before his stern voice cuts in, slicing through their bickering. “One of you properly explain, or you'll be walking back to base.”

Roach steps up, eager to clarify. “There’s a kid, probably about two, and she looks exactly like the Lt. Scowl, glare, and all!”

Price and Ghost pause, their expressions twisting as they both try—and fail—to imagine a little girl with Simon’s permanent scowl.

Price shudders, shaking the thought from his head. “That is not a face a kid should have.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Gaz chimes in, nodding emphatically.

Ghost throws him an offended look, his usually hardened eyes showing a glimmer of hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” they all exclaim in unison, even Price, who quickly averts his gaze as Ghost’s glare narrows on him.

Ghost huffs, then crosses his arms. “Did you take a picture?”

Soap snorts, leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Aye, right, 'cause that wouldnae be creepy at all.”

Ghost stares daggers Into Soap, rolling his eyes and pushing himself off the wall. “Okay, then where is she?”

The three stooges lead the charge once again, this time with their Captain and Lieutenant in tow. They weave through the crowd toward the train park, where Soap eagerly scans for the woman and kid he’d spotted earlier. But the line they were in is empty, the pair nowhere to be found.

“Shite. I think they’re gone,” Soap mutters, his Scottish accent thickening in his frustration, the words rolling out with a clipped bite. 

“So the imaginary woman and kid don’t actually exist,” Ghost deadpans, unimpressed.

“They exist!” Gaz insists, voice edging on exasperation.

“Sure,” Ghost replies, his tone flat and thoroughly unconvinced.

Roach snickers, then glances over at Price—only to see him staring slack-jawed through the window of a nearby café, his cigar dangling from his mouth, forgotten.

“Cap?” Roach says, touching the older man’s shoulder.

Price doesn’t look away, nodding toward the café. “Found them.”

Everyone turns toward the café, eyes landing on you and Adira. The little girl is happily weaving between your legs, her tiny hands gripping your coat as she entertains herself, all while you order hot chocolates to fend off the winter chill. A soft smile touches your lips as you watch her play, blissfully unaware of the audience gathering just outside.

The barista, with a warm smile, hands over two cups, one with a little extra marshmallows for Adira, her voice bright as she wishes you both a merry Christmas. You take the cups with a grateful nod, handing one to Adira. She immediately takes her drink, sipping eagerly, her small feet bouncing on her heels from the sugar rush.

“Yummy?” You ask, glancing down at her with a soft smile, a wave of motherly pride swelling in your chest as you watch her delight in the simple joy of her drink.

Adira nods eagerly, her eyes lighting up as she pulls away from her straw with a satisfied sigh. “Yummy.”

With a soft chuckle, you both leave the warmth of the shop, stepping out into the crisp air. Hand in hand, you walk back toward the park, the world around you feeling peaceful despite the cold. As you reach the crosswalk, you stop, waiting for the light to turn. Adira looks up at you, her little face filled with contentment as she swings your joined hands back and forth, her sugary energy still buzzing.

Across the way, the team stood frozen, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before them. Everyone but Ghost was struck by how much Adira looked like him—her features unmistakably mirroring his, save for the color of her hair and skin. The resemblance was uncanny, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world had stopped around them.

“She looks nothing like me,” Ghost stated plainly, his voice cutting through the stillness as though it were fact. His expression was unmoving, a wall of stubbornness in his eyes. He was ready to die on that hill.

Then, as fate would have it, a woman walking her dog passed by, and Adira’s cherub-like face hardened into a cold, calculating stare. It was subtle, but unmistakable. 

“Nevermind,” Ghost muttered, his earlier conviction faltering as he watched her shift before his eyes.

“So… you’ve been having fun these past years?” Roach asked, his gaze flicking between Adira and Ghost, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Not that I know of,” Ghost grunted, his eyes still locked on you and Adira, a mix of unease and something else flickering across his face. He couldn’t pull himself away.

“Let’s get closer,” Price commanded, already making his move. Soap and Roach exchanged a shrug, falling in line without hesitation.

“Excuse me?” Gaz sputtered, though his body had already begun moving before his brain could catch up, unable to defy the Captain’s order.

Ghost fell silent, teeth gritted. This wasn’t a situation he was used to, especially not one where he was forced to go in blind. He stood stiffly at the crosswalk, trying to hide his glances, his focus split between the team and you.

Soap ended up the closest, standing just next to Adira. The little girl paused, her big, doe-like eyes lifting from her drink to catch sight of him. The recognition was instant. Her lips pursed into a small line, and her gaze grew heavy with annoyance. 

“Ugee…” she whispered, scooting closer to you.

Soap froze, his mind stuttering for a moment. Did she just—? Did she call me ugly?

Gaz, standing behind him, couldn’t contain himself. A muffled laugh broke through as Soap turned to look at the others, wide-eyed and speechless, completely taken aback.

“Do ye lot think I'm ugly?” Soap asked, his voice thick with disbelief, clearly thrown off by the little girl's words.

“Not the time, Mctavish,” Price said, a tiny laugh tugging at the corner of his lips despite the situation.

The streetlight flickered green, signaling it was time to move. You adjusted yourself, ready to cross the street. Each member of the team started mentally preparing, unsure of how—or even if—they should approach you. Ghost, however, was the first to make a move, determined to intercept you. But Soap, ever the opportunist, beat him to it.

Ghost wasn’t exactly subtle, and having him try anything would probably send you running in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me, aren’t you the lady from the train?” Soap called out, his voice light, though his intentions were clear.

You paused at his interruption, recognition flickering in your eyes. You remembered the man who bumped into you earlier. “Yes? Is something the matter?”

“Do you happen to know where I could find Leslies?” Soap asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice, though he tried to mask it.

“The pub?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Soap confirmed, his face lighting up with a mix of relief and surprise at your easy response.

You look around for a moment, trying to remember and see the street names of your current location. “Uh…it should be about a couple blocks south from here. They have a big sign, you can't miss it.”

Thank God for Soap, because that one question was all he needed to keep you trapped in a conversation, his charm working its magic as you giggled and chatted away easily, the awkwardness of the situation melting away.

Meanwhile, Ghost’s attention shifted to Adira. He looked down at her, and she, almost instinctively, looked up at him. Their eyes locked in a silent staring contest, each of them studying the other. The intensity in their gaze was undeniable, both sets of eyes reflecting the same quiet, unwavering strength. It was like looking in a mirror—a mirror that mirrored back his own hardened stare and no-nonsense attitude.

Adira was, quite literally, his mini me. The resemblance was impossible to ignore.

“How old are you?” Ghost asked bluntly, his voice low as he kneeled down to Adira’s height, his gaze intense but trying to soften.

Adira paused for a moment, glancing up at you for help, but you were still caught up in conversation with Soap. She turned her focus back to Ghost, her small fingers fidgeting with the hem of her coat as she murmured shyly, “Two…”

She was two. Two. Ghost’s mind raced, trying to piece together the details, but nothing clicked. Nearly three years ago… what had he done three years ago? He kept everything categorized, stored in his mind like a well-organized file system, but this was something that didn’t fit.

Then, Soap’s voice broke through his thoughts. 

“You don’t seem like the type of lass to frequent Leslies.”

You giggled, a soft blush creeping up your cheeks at Soap’s question. He wasn’t wrong… at least, not entirely. “I’ve only been to Leslie’s once, and, well… it’s how I ended up with my little blessing.” You glanced down at Adira, the warmth of your smile radiating as you spoke.

Everything shattered in that moment. Ghost’s stomach twisted painfully, his heart skipping a beat as the realization slammed into him like a freight train. Leslie's. Almost three years ago, during that stupid holiday.

His mind began to piece it together, the hazy memories from that night slowly coming into focus. He remembered the bar, the laughter, the way you had caught his attention. You were easy on the eyes, easy to make laugh, and most importantly—unlike everyone else. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry, you just let him lead, let him slip into the night with no strings attached.

But now, as he looked at Adira, everything fell into place. The way she stared at him, those familiar eyes, the resemblance he couldn’t ignore. His breath hitched, and the weight of the truth crushed him—she was his daughter.

A knot formed in his throat as he tried to process the fact. Adira. His daughter. The little girl standing before him was his flesh and blood, the result of a moment he'd long since buried in the depths of his mind.

---

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[cimmanonrowl]

Eat Your Young pt.1

Part Two | Masterlist

It was a blessing when you were offered a job to look after a kid named Jack. He is a good one– smart, funny, a little cheeky but obeys you nonetheless. His father was all the same— Mr. Hotchner. He pays really well and on time, and made sure that after his arrival from Pakistan, you finally learn to accept your hidden desires.

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, oral fixation, oral (f) receiving, cum play, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, unprotected, rough sex, dom!aaron, daddy kink, powerplay: boss/employee dynamic, pussy-eater bearded aaron.

You were supposed to find Jack in ten minutes. 

Ten minutes maximum, you told yourself. That is the only reason why you confidently agreed to play hide and seek with that hyperactive, sugar-high of a child. Just ten minutes.

Now you couldn’t breathe in panic.

“Jack!” your trembling voice echoed down the hallway as you peered through rooms you had ransacked just three minutes ago. “Jack, please. Where are you, honey?”

Nothing.

The heavy sound of your frantic steps pierced the silence as you bolted downstairs, feeling even more lightheaded as the gnawing anxiety grew harshly and clawed at your insides. The silence reverberating through every corner of the house felt extremely taunting. Yet, with the rush of worry you feel for the kid, you couldn’t bring yourself to think of anything else.

Your chest hurts, your mind racing with every horrid scenario, each thud echoing in your ears as you rush to the kitchen. Shortly after you were hired and joined their little family, Jessica told you everything she felt you needed to be aware of. And you knew what Jack had to go through as a kid. He and his father had gone through terrible things you weren’t even sure it was possible to handle.

Warm tears now flooded your eyes as you desperately scanned every nook and cranny— he was not under the table, not inside the empty kitchen cabinet, nor behind the dining room curtains.

“Jack Hotchner!” you tried keeping the tremor out of your voice, making yourself sound assertive and annoyed as an attempt to scare him, yet your panic still found a way to lace at each word. “This isn’t funny anymore, Jack! I’m telling your dad!” 

You darted to the living room, ripping aside the couch cushions and peeking behind and under every piece of furniture. Now your breath comes in shallow gasps. With each movement, the very memory of his mischievous giggle haunted you, ringing inside your brain.

When you realized the kid wasn’t there, you sprinted again upstairs, taking two steps at a time. Your mind continuously raced with possibilities. Did he sneak out? Is he hiding in the attic? The basement? Jesus Christ, did you even lock the front door?

You throw open the closet in the hallway, pushing aside winter coats and a pile of boxes. “Jack! I’m serious! Come out!” 

Desperation edged even closer.

The bathroom door swung open with a creak as you pushed through the room. But to your horror, it was all empty, too.

You staggered back to his bedroom with quick steps. Your very last hope. You flung open the toy chest, rummaging through the chaos of plastic dinosaurs, action figures, and Lego blocks. Still nothing. It didn’t even cross your mind that a kid as old as Jack wouldn’t fit in a small wooden toy box; your mind was too frantic to think logically.

“Jack! Where are you?” you dropped to your knees, peering under his bed, your vision blurring with unshed tears. “Please, Jack, come out!” 

You stood by the window and started biting on your nails— a habit you developed when you’re too anxious to function. You clutched your phone tightly as you hugged yourself, fingers trembling, contemplating to finally dial for help. From the window you observed that the garden looked empty as always, the back shed had always been locked, and you couldn’t see anyone behind the bushes— Jack was nowhere to be found. 

The dread is almost paralyzing, a heavy weight pressing firmly on your chest.

And just as you made up your mind to go outside and check properly, your phone vibrated on your hand. Blood drained on your face as you glanced at the screen and read the familiar name on the caller’s I.D.

Mr. Hotchner.

Jack’s father. Your employer— who also happens to be a big shot FBI agent. If he learned that you lost his son in a hide-and-seek game, no matter how warmhearted, accommodating, and considerate that man is of your needs and well-being, you get this nagging feeling that you might end up floating on a river somewhere with no leads of any kind or prime suspect to consider.

You rubbed your eyes as you accepted the call, your doom at the same time. “H-hello?”

“Hey,” Aaron’s voice crackles through the line, distant yet filled with warmth. “Just wanted to check in. How’s Jack doing?”

Your throat tightened as you listened. 

“Mr. Hotchner…”

“Yes?”

“Mr. Hotchner…” your fingers gripped the phone tightly as you let out a strangled sob. “I... I can’t find Jack. We– we were playing hide and seek, and now he’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere,” warm tears flowed down your cheeks as you continued, your voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I’ve been l-looking… I swear. I’m really sorry.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and you can almost hear Aaron’s heartbeat sync with your frantic pulse. You braced for the incoming screams, expecting him to ridicule your incompetence. After all, you’ve always thought of Mr. Hotchner as someone who never hesitates to pinpoint someone’s inefficiency. Maybe today you’ll have enough luck to prove your theory.

But in a calm voice, Aaron Hotchner said softly instead, “Alright, I need you to stay calm for me, sweetheart. Are you sure you checked everywhere?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you sniffed quietly in relief, rubbing your nose and the tears streaming down your face. “Everywhere. The cabinets, the cupboards, h-his toy box…”

A brief silence fell with that, and you bit your lip in embarrassment. “His toy box? You don’t suppose he’s gonna fit in there, do you?” Aaron sounded like he was trying not to laugh. What a silly, little girl.

“T-that’s not the point, sir!”

“Did you check the front door? Is the back door locked?”

“Yes. I always make sure to lock it.”

“Have you checked my office then?”

“N-no…” you drawled in confusion, frowning as you went back to biting the edge of your nail. “Should I?”

What kind of question is that? Why would you even go there? That’s the only room in his house that you don’t welcome yourself. Mr. Hotchner may have never told you so but you’re fully aware of all the confidential documents he’s storing inside. You can’t afford to be thrown in jail for obstructing a case because you have mistaken a case file as trash and thrown it out.

“It’s worth a look. Jack likes playing in there when I’m working,” Aaron’s tone suddenly shifted, his voice turning quiet as he started with his order. “There’s a wooden crate beside my desk, check that first.”

You hesitated. “But, I don—”

“Just check, sweetheart, please,” Aaron interrupted, gently but firmly as always. “I trust you.”

The sincerity in his words cut through your anxiety. Aaron trusts you. So you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself before stepping out of his son’s room.

“Jack, you really scared her. You know you’re supposed to come out when you’re called, right?” Aaron’s firm voice filled the kitchen moments later.

Jack glanced at you as if feigning confusion. As you know him well, he was obviously thrilled with the chaos he caused. You sat beside him at the kitchen table, eyeing the little devil while you prepare your own food, listening to his father’s reprimand. Jack’s legs swung back and forth under the table, excitedly munching on a sandwich wrap you made for his lunch.

“I was just hiding, Dad. It’s hide and seek, that’s what I’m supposed to do.” Jack’s small brows furrowed like his father’s as he looked down at his plate.

“Yes, I know, buddy,” A soft sigh rang audible through the line. “But it’s just a game, you can’t hide so well that no one can find you. It’s important to keep everyone safe, especially when I’m not there.”

Jack’s lower lip jutted out even further. “But that’s the point of the game, Dad. Players need to hide well.”

“Yes, buddy, but what I’m saying is…” Aaron sighed again, struggling to weave a perfect explanation for his son. “Everything fun should be done in moderation. You scared her, and me, because we thought something bad happened to you.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“Thank you, buddy, but I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to. You made her worry.”

“I...” Jack stopped chewing, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to win.”

The scolding seemed to have hit its mark, and you reached over, ruffling the little guy’s hair. “It’s okay, honey. Just don’t hide so well next time, alright?”

Jack stared at you and nodded solemnly, but then his pout deepened. “Dad grew his beard. I don’t like it.”

You suppressed a smile, glancing at the phone where you could see Aaron’s face on the screen. Despite the grainy connection, you can see the dark shadow of a beard on his jawline. 

Aaron chuckled at what he heard, the sound of his deep voice humorous. “I had to, buddy. It’s hard to shave here every day.”

Jack shrugged as he took a big bite of his food. “You look like a bear.”

“What?!” Aaron said incredulously.

“You should shave, Dad. We’re gonna look like Masha and the Bear when you come home.”

You bit your lip to hold back a laugh, shaking your head.

Only if you were asked, you’d say how the full beard really absolutely suited Aaron. Now he looked rugged— a stark contrast to his usually neat and well-kept appearance. Regardless, he seemed to look even more handsome and manly. And God, he looks so fucking hot he should be put behind the bar.

But well, it’s a good thing no one bothered asking your opinion; how are you supposed to answer in front of a kid, anyway?  

You’ve always admired this man, that’s for sure. He and his neatly ironed suits, clean-cut hair, and authoritative nature had always been an incredible sight to look at— but this new look?

This.

This makes you think of lewd things in broad daylight.

“Well, buddy your best friend doesn’t seem to mind it,” Aaron caught your eye through the screen, a small smile playing on his lips. 

Crimson red dusted on your cheeks with the teasing, but you managed to smile back. “Uhuh, it’s not so bad, Jack. Maybe you’ll get used to it.”

Jack scrunched his nose but didn’t argue any further. Instead, he picked up his sandwich again and took a big bite. You shook your head in amusement, holding Aaron’s gaze on the screen briefly before you had to look away because...

That damn fucking beard.

“Alright, I also have to grab some dinner now,” Aaron said after a few beats of silence. “Jack, be good for her, okay? She might run away if you continue scaring her. We don’t want that, do we?”

Jack nodded, still chewing. “Okay, Dad. No more.”

“I love you, buddy.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

“And you,” Aaron’s voice softened even more as he addressed you, a soft crinkle present in his eyes. “Thank you. For everything.”

You could only nod, and smile, and look away as your heart pounded against your chest. “No worries. Keep safe, Mr. Hotchner.”

He gave you one last look, his eyes filled with warmth and something you couldn’t decipher, before the call disconnected. With a sigh, you looked back at Jack, who was already reaching for a second sandwich wrap, mumbling about how his father would soon end up like Hagrid.

The soft click echoed in the quiet house as you closed the door behind you. You slipped off your high heels, groaning and wincing in pain, before dropping your keys into the bowl on the console table. The house feels emptier than usual, with Jack spending the night at his Aunt Jessica’s. It was a setup that she and Aaron agreed on before; to let Jack stay overnight every Friday and go home by the afternoon the next day.

As you make your way down the hallway, it doesn’t escape your notice that the kitchen lights are open. You weren’t expecting anyone to be home, not at this late hour anyway, and the sight stopped you in your tracks. Burglar was your first thought.

So naturally, you took several tentative steps closer, peeking around the corner.

Surprise flickered across Aaron’s features as he noticed you, quickly masking it with a strained smile. He was standing by the kitchen island, a half-finished bottle of brandy open.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice rougher than how you remembered months ago, “I didn’t know you’d be back so soon.”

“I should say the same to you.”

You had no idea he’s coming home today. His travel-worn face was illuminated by the warm kitchen light; a glass of amber liquid swirls in the rock glass in his hand. While his eyes were shadowed with something unreadable, never leaving yours. 

You manage a small smile in return, though it feels heavy. “But yeah, the date ended earlier than expected.”

Not just the date but your entire evening hadn’t gone as planned, and you can still feel the weight of disappointment tugging at your shoulders.

Aaron nodded but didn’t say anything about it.

Silence settled between the two of you. His eyes flickered to the drink in his hand, while he took a slow sip, as if buying time. You didn’t dare glance away as you stepped further into the kitchen, leaning against the counter in front of him.

“I didn’t know you’d be home today. How was your trip?” you asked, genuinely curious but also eager to fill the void.

He shrugged, setting the glass down with a soft clink. “Busy. Tiring. The usual.” His gaze returned to you, lingering a moment too long. “You okay?”

The concern in his voice was unmistakable. You nodded, but the gesture also felt hollow. “Yeah, just... you know, one of those nights.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly, and he looked away, staring into his glass. “Want to talk about it?”

You hesitated, not sure if you’re ready to unpack the disappointment just yet, and also considering the fact that he must be tired from his flight. But there’s something in Aaron’s presence that you always found comforting, you just had to go on.

“Maybe later,” you said softly, wandering your eyes around until it landed on the wine shelf. “Can I join you?”

He nodded without hesitation, watching you in silence as you grab a bottle of wine from the rack. Aaron’s eyes met yours again as you settled back, and for a moment, something flickered in their depths— something that makes your heart skip a beat.

Aaron’s eyes were focused on you as you set the bottle on the counter and reach for the corkscrew. The maroon silk of your dress catches the light; it was a simple one, nothing too flashy nor revealing. Just enough to accentuate your figure and compliment your skin well. You don’t understand why heat licked your neck as you became aware of Aaron’s eyes lingering on you.

With a soft pop, the cork comes free, and you pour yourself a generous amount. You took your own seat on the barstool. And with your slow movements, the maroon dress clings to your form, highlighting your curves in a way that makes Aaron’s breath catch.

He tried to look away, but his apprehensive eyes kept returning to you.

“There’s a practice game this Sunday. Jack will be happy to know you’ll be watching,” you cleared your throat, eyes focused on the alcohol swirling around the clear glass.

Aaron took a slow sip of his drink, trying to collect his thoughts, but his gaze kept drifting back to you. The dress, with its silky sheen and soft drape, made you look not just elegant but breathtakingly sexy- a fact that Aaron is finding increasingly hard to ignore.

“Yeah, I’m planning to surprise him tomorrow. Maybe we can pick him up early from Jess? Then we can grab a lunch outside.”

You gave him a smile. “Sure, sounds nice.”

As you settled deeper into the conversation, your attention narrowed down to Aaron. He’s leaning against the marble counter, the soft kitchen light casting a warm glow on him. His beard was slightly thicker than you remember, giving him an almost roguish look that you couldn’t help but find incredibly attractive. And hot.

He’s so hot.

He was clad in one of his work shirts, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms. The shirt fits him well, emphasizing his broad shoulders and the hint of muscle underneath. Even the veins running through the surface of his arm were visible. 

The sight makes your heart flutter, and you found yourself admiring the way he looked tonight, with a brandy glass cradled in his big, calloused hand. You wonder how it would feel to have those strong hands grip you tightly, his fingers playing with your pussy, his lips on your neck.

“So,” Aaron’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, “how was the date?”

You took a sip of your drink, the question making your chest tighten again, but you answered lightly. “It was... okay, I guess? Not what I anticipated, though.”

His eyes are on your face, but they keep flickering to your dress, tracing the line of your collarbone, the soft curve of your shoulder. “What happened?”

“He was nice and all… but I don’t know…” Aaron nodded as you struggled recalling the events of evening, and you can tell he wants more details. “It’s just awkward, as always.”

“Did you go anywhere special?”

“We went to that new Italian place downtown. Dave said the food was great so I wanted to try…” you swirl the wine in your glass, watching the dark liquid catch the light. The movement makes the dress shimmer, and Aaron’s gaze follows the motion, almost mesmerized. “I just thought it’d be better, you know? It’s our third date, anyway.”

Aaron’s gaze softened, and he took a sip of his drink. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. Well, that’s what happens, I guess,” You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease.

“Yeah,” his eyes traveled from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. Aaron’s eyes lingered on you before finally, he spoke again, his tone light but his curiosity evident. 

“Did he at least appreciate the dress? You look... incredible tonight.”

A blush warmed your cheeks, making you giggle to yourself. “He did compliment it, but I don’t think he noticed much beyond that.”

“He’s an idiot then,” Aaron said quickly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Then he looked down, a hint of embarrassment coloring his features. “I mean, it’s a beautiful dress, and it suits you really well.”

The compliment made your smile grow wider.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” your cheeks heat up as quickly as you realize what you’ve just said, but you don’t think you have to take it back. “Pakistan’s that rough?”

“You could say that,” Aaron’s eyes flickered with surprise and a touch of pleasure. He straightened slightly, a small, almost bashful yet equally beautiful smile playing on his lips. “I’m pretty sure Jack will volunteer to shave this beard off.”

“But it suits you…” you murmured mostly to yourself, your eyes tracing the line of his jaw and the way the beard added a certain depth to his features. “He’s just teasing you.”

Aaron chuckled, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that draws your attention to the subtle flex of his muscle. “Yeah? I wasn’t sure if it was too much.”

“No, it’s perfect,” you replied, your voice softening. “Makes you look... distinguished.”

He took a slow sip of his brandy, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken, and you find yourself caught in the moment, drowning in his presence and the wetness slowly pooling in between your thighs.

“So you like it?”

Oh, you love it. “Yes.”

Aaron stepped a little closer, settling beside you as you glanced up at him from your seat. The scent of his perfume, mixed with the subtle hint of brandy, filled your senses. His eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

“Tell me about your date,” he said, his tone teasing, but there was an edge of something more in his eyes.

“There’s not much to tell,” you said with a laugh, your voice catching slightly. “It was just... dull and boring.”

“Dull? How so?”

“Just…” you bit your lip lightly, shaking your head as you smiled up at him. “You know.”

“I can’t say I know, doll. Use your words.”

Your heart raced but you didn’t look away. Instead, you stared back at him with the same intensity, blinking through your eyelashes almost innocently. “He… he doesn’t make me feel like you do.”

A beat.

Your heart drummed wildly against your ears.

And Aaron’s eyes darkened with the invitation.

“And how do I make you feel, angel?” he whispered softly.

“Like you actually want me.”

“Which I fucking do,” he leaned in, his breath slowly mingling with yours. “More than you know.”

Aaron’s hand moved to your waist, his touch light but possessive. Your heart pounded wildly as you stared into his eyes.

“Show me then,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you breathed, your lips just a hair’s breadth away from his.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly slow and deliberately teasing way.

“Aaron...” you whined, your voice heavy with need. “Please...”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t k-know…”

His grip tightened on your hips, his voice rough and demanding. “I think you’re lying, pretty girl.”

“Aaron...”

“I said,” he asked again, gruffly this time. “What do you want?”

“Want your m-mouth on me, Aaron, please...”

A quick swipe of his tongue wetted his lower lip, and a satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Good girl.”

His hand tightened on your waist, drawing you even closer. And all you knew from that second is the feeling of his hot breath against your skin.

“Aaron-” a low growl rumbled from his chest as your fingers tangled through his hair, pushing him even closer to your dripping cunt. “Tha- God, that feels good…”

Aaron hummed lightly, running the calloused pad of his palm on the soft surface of your thighs, feeling the bumps rising on your skin along with your pleasure. He darted his eyes to your face with his mouth still on your cunt, his lips nibbling your clit, watching you breathe heavily while containing the whine caught right in your throat.

When you propped onto your elbow and met his gaze, you could barely register the drunk look on his eyes.

“I’m c-close…” you whispered, pleadingly so. “Aaron… please…”

You didn’t have to say anything else. The contrast between the softness of his lips and the coarseness of his beard creates a heady, intoxicating burn. The rough graze of his beard against your inner thigh sent shivers down your spine, making you arch your back, forcing yourself closer to his mouth, to his touch; even closer to his heat.

You have never been treated this way– never had a partner who takes pleasure in pleasuring you. The warmth of Aaron’s breath fanned through your clit as he licked and prod his tongue on your entrance, feeling the burning scrape of his stubble with every movement. It’s both gentle and painful, enough to make your skin tingle and your heart race; chasing the heightening pleasure and your incoming orgasm.

“So good, doll…” he whispered roughly, encouragingly, his attention focused only at you. “Fuck, it’s so hot.”

He leaned away only for a moment, straightening his back as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt. In the blink of an eye, the sight of his muscular chest and soft stomach salivated you. You’ve known he’s hairy, but now that you saw the dark trail of hair on his abdomen down to his…

Aaron looked smug.

“Dirty girl, like what you’re seeing?”

You hummed hoarsely. “Want you, please. D-daddy?”

Aaron groaned at your words. And you noticed how his palm flew to the obvious bulge on his pants, squeezing his aching cock as if your words hurt him. Or pleased him, you don’t know. All you registered was the faint satisfaction in his smile and the glint of hunger in his piercing eyes.

He ran his palm on your thighs lovingly. “Cum on Daddy’s mouth first. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Although he posed that as a question, you knew it was an order. And who are you to defy him when he generously licked through your folds and sucked on your clit like a starved man? He’s not devouring you like relinquishing his final meal; instead, like you are the very first meal he ever tasted and cannot get enough of. He eats you like someone will take you away from him. But even if they do, he wants to make sure it’s his mouth and big cock you’ll crawl back to.

The world seemed so far away as you let yourself drown in the pleasure, all while Aaron occasionally fucks his tongue in and out of your needy cunt.

“Close, angel?” he asked before spitting on your pussy and swirling his tongue on your clit. “You taste like heaven, baby.”

You nodded dumbly.

“You’ve no idea how many nights I fucked my fist to this thought.”

Your release inched closer, roused by his deep groans and heavy breathing. You were not even past the vulgar image of him spitting on your cunt when you felt one of his fingers gently swiping through your wetness, his touch light as a ghost, and you shuddered as you realized what will come next.

You gasped and moaned, and grabbed a fistful of his hair on both of your hands. “Need you n-now, please… enough…”

“Just one, angel. Just give me one on my tongue,” he demanded, his eyes dark with need. “You can do that for Daddy, right baby? I’ll fuck you good later, I promise.”

You clenched around his finger as he slowly slid into you, then out, slowly gaining rhythm and speed that reflected your racing heart. He thrust in and out, and in and out, until he decided you could take another finger, then another one. You’ve never felt so full, but good God if you say you didn’t fantasize about getting fingerfucked by your boss, you’d be sent to hell for lying.

He nibbled. He sucked. He licked. His fingers never once stopped assaulting your wet, squelching cunt. With every drag of his fingers and swipe of his tongue, you could hear a deep growl rumbling through his chest. And his eyes watched you, taking in the way you writhe in pleasure, the way your thighs tremble, and how your eyes welled in tears.

“Please… p-please…” you whimpered pathetically, your fingers tightening on his hair. “C-close, ‘m so close… daddy…”

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Come on, be a good girl.”

“D-daddy!” you screamed loudly when his teeth grazed your now sensitive clit.

“Fucking cum for me. Make me proud, angel.”

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as your orgasm ripped through you. His words grew distant as it happened, showering you still with lewd praises: how good you taste, how warm and tight your cunt would be, and how he expects you to take his big cock.

“S-stop… A-” you trashed away from his grip. “Too m-much. D-daddy, no! Stop! S-stop! Too much!”

His fingers continued abusing the sensitive nerves deep inside you, groaning loudly as your walls tightened around him. “A little more, sweet girl. One more for Daddy…”

“N-no–” Tears slid down your cheeks in overstimulation, feeling the rough drag of his fingers inside your tight cunt and his lips on your clit. “Oh, g-god! I’m close again… D-daddy! Don’t s-stop, p-please!”

“Good girl, angel. Look at you... that’s it, baby.”

He trailed wet kisses along your skin as he moved upward, kneading your tits, lingering a bit longer on your hardened nipples. You haven’t gone down from your last orgasm when you already felt the tip of his cock prodding at your pulsating cunt.

You whimpered weakly, not fully aware of your surrounding anymore.

“Hey, hey…” you heard Aaron whisper, his voice soft and gentle, caressing your face lovingly as he observed your expression. “Good? Do you want to stop, sweetheart?”

You shook your head. “I will kill you if you stop.”

“Ah,” he let out a hoarse chuckle. “Yes, Ma’am.”

His pace was slow at first, achingly so and deliberate. But it didn’t last long. From laying on your back on the cold, marble kitchen counter, you found yourself bent over on the kitchen table, with Aaron’s girthy cock ramming in and out of your cunt. And all you could do was take it, moaning loudly to Aaron’s satisfaction.

“Fucking hell. Should’ve fucked this pussy long before–” he rambled deeply from behind, pistoling his hips at a brutal pace. “You like this, huh? You like Daddy fucking your tight pussy?”

You bit your thumb as your legs trembled, but you didn’t answer.

And that’s when you felt it.

A harsh slap on your ass.

“Answer me, you fucking slut,” he drawled in between heavy breaths. “Did I fuck you dumb, huh?”

“Y-yes–” you struggled to say, trying to keep your legs steady amidst the intense waves of pleasure. “G-good… so much…”

Aaron barked an amused laugh. “Fuck. You sound so cockdrunk.”

With each thrust, you felt the familiar coil tightening on your stomach. Your words were muffled as you tried to warn him, and all that came out of your lips was a high-pitched whimper. 

Aaron’s grip on your hips hardened. “I’m c-close. Where should I cum, angel? Inside? Should I cum inside?”

“C-close…” you echoed mindlessly, not understanding a word he said.

“Do you want me to fuck a baby inside you?”

“Yes… y-yes… inside, Daddy, please....”

Tears streamed down your cheeks when you felt Aaron’s hot cum spill inside you, his thick cock throbbing. You trembled against him as you reached your own climax, your lips drawn to a silent scream as he expertly rubbed your clit through your orgasm.

“One more. Can you give Daddy one more, sweet girl?” you heard him whisper encouragingly.

With a strained moan and eyes shut tight, you finally let out a gush of release. The force was so sudden Aaron had to pull out and watch his own cum drip down your thighs. His eyes widened a fraction as he stared at the pool of wetness glistening on his kitchen floor.

And fucking hell, that felt so good.

Aaron didn’t waste a second and quickly knelt behind you, separating your weak and trembling legs carefully before running his tongue on your spent and dripping cunt. You shivered at the feeling of his beard scratching the back of your thigh but you let him, enjoying the feeling of his tongue following the trail of his own release that drips down your legs.

“Too m-much, Aaron. Please…” you plead softly, sighing as you felt his fingers spread out your pussy.

“Just a taste, angel. Can you push out more of my cum?”

He keened and hummed as he gathered his own release on his tongue. And before you even know it, he was already kissing you, watching his own cum and spit reach your waiting tongue as you innocently glanced up at him, a far-gone look on your face.

“You’re such a sweet girl,” he whispered later on as he gently laid you down on his warm bed, now wrapped in his old, oversized t-shirt and newly bathed.

He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, and cheeks, then nose, before kissing you lovingly on the lips. “Rest now, sweetheart. I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.”

For tag list request, here.

Your girl finally got her energy back after taking 4 pills of Vitamin B. LOL. Sorry for the long wait! Anyway, as always, likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated. Hope you're having an incredible day and drink your water! (PS. Do you guys know I just realized I can reblog your reblogs with comments? I'm so dumb.)

Tags: @kimstills @readergf @downbad4reid @gghostwriter @elhotchner @pastelpinkflowerlife @the1boss @roseydoesypoesy @khxna @hangmanscoming @apollolynx98 @its-just-me-chey

[etfrin]

❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ higher with my lover — coriolanus snow ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, handjob, mentions of blood & blood sucking, Capitol! Reader, reader is mentioned to be a virgin, mentions of poison and death, district+lucy gray slander (necessary to the plot), mention of Sejanus, degradation & praise kink if you squint, dry humping | lmk if I missed anything!

☆　Pairing: fem! Reader x young! peacekeeper! Coriolanus Snow

☆　Summary: Lucy Gray left but you find him in the forest instead and shit goes down

☆　A/N: this fic is inspired by the fact that i imagined myself to be the one sucking the 'poisoned bite' and be like now we both die and i like you lmao, i hope you guys like it!

Ps. This is the official canon ending :D

Ps². Listened to this song mainly to write the smut, so i am just gonna leave it here. . .

| masterlist | taglist | bc: @cafekitsune |

“Lucy Gray! Are you trying to kill me!?”

Coriolanus Snow yelled as he kept pointing the gun in random directions. It wasn't long after that he began shooting in the sky causing the murder of numerous mockingjays up in the air.

He had found the necklace, he had found the scarf. She left. She was a loose end. She needs to die, fucking die so Snow could have the life he deserved. The life he worked for, the life he was entitled to since birth. The life of a Snow.

“Lucy Gray! We can talk about this!” He yells out, “Just come out!” But Lucy Gray was nowhere to be found, as if she was a ghost. As if she was the Lucy Gray from the song, a mystery to never be found.

He pointed his gun in the direction where he heard the sound of a twig snapping. It wasn't Lucy Gray but you. Your eyes were wide, chest heaving as you slowly walked towards him with your hands raised. “Coryo,” you whispered, scared, your feet walking towards him with hesitation but never flattering.

He had no idea how you had found him. He wasn't sure why you were either here. It was already too much for him that Sejanus came (and now he is dead, dead, dead. The third person he had killed). And you followed him too, pulling in favors, deciding to be a medic along with Sejanus, serving time with your best friends (not his, he never considered you or Sej as his friend).

“Where's Lucy Gray!?” He yelled, walking towards you, gun still pointed. It makes you walk backward until your back hits the hard bark of a tree. The rough texture of the bark is uncomfortable due to your thin shirt. You scrunch your nose at the mention of her. You never liked her much. He didn't know why but perhaps it was all a ruse just for this very moment. This very betrayal from her.

“How would I know?” You scoffed, the haughty attitude of a Capitol citizen coming through despite having a gun pointed at you. He pressed the end of the gun at your chest. “Tell me the truth,” he growled. “That girl tried to poison me. Tell me where she is!”

“I don't know,” you hiss back, your eyes ablaze. “And get the gun out of my face. You should be heading to a fucking medic right now. Are you sure she poisoned you?” Your voice was now laced with concern, eyes softening as you looked at him, his t-shirt clinging to him with sweat, his cheeks flushed, eyes so wide that the blues were hidden with black instead.

Coryo gets the gun away from you to put his arm forward. Showing you his snake bite, the puncture wound oozing out beads of red blood on his snow-like skin. “It's probably non-poisonous,” you said, trying to sound optimistic.

“No, it's not!” He growls, and anger fills in every movement and word of his. “She's trying to kill me. She's district! I shouldn't have- shouldn't have-” You hold his arm, your fingers around his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“It's fine,” you whispered, trying your best that the tone you use with him is soft and gentle. You want to shake him out of the mental breakdown that was happening. He shakes his head and you press your fingertips into the wound.

“It's fine,” you whispered, “let's get you back. Come on.” You try to urge him forward, only for him to pull himself out of your grasp. “No! I need to find her. She's a loose end. She will tell. She's a snake, not a songbird,” he rambles.

Despite the confusion you felt with his words, you grit your teeth. “Come on, Coryo! We need to head back,” you said, your hand on his wrist, trying to drag him out of the middle of the green forest.

“No! We need to find her out before the poison works” he yells, pulling you back and pushing you. Pinning you effectively between him and a tree.

You glare at him before a moment of impulsivity takes over you. You take his arm, your mouth around the bleeding wound and you suck letting whatever ‘poisoned blood’ onto your tongue. His eyes widen as he sees the redness of his blood now painting your lips. “Now can we go back?” You said as you licked the blood clean. “Because if it's poison, we will both die.”

“Why would-” he visibly freezes. He doesn't want your blood on his hands. No- it would be on Lucy's hands. It's her fault. Everything is her fault. “Why would you do that?” He whispered, leaning closer to you, his face now mere inches away from yours. It was like he was seeing you for the first time. Like he never saw you for you until now. Someone like him. Unhinged (not that he's willing to admit it).

He hooks his fingers under your chin, holding your jaw and tilting your lips towards his. His eyes were searching for sanity but seemed to have found none as a smile (filled with insanity) spread on his face. “You're crazy,” he whispered, “Are you that desperate?”

“Desperate for your well-being, Coryo,” you whispered, hating the fact that your gaze fell on his soft-looking lips. “I don't know what's wrong, Coriolanus. But come with me, let's go back. Lucy Gray isn't worth anything.”

“Lucy Gray is worth everything!” He yelled, pressing his body with yours, pain in your bones flaring as he without noticing crushed you.

“I am sure she will have poison for you too. I am sure she will come back then,” you spit out. You felt outrageous at his behavior. “She ran, didn't she? To the North. You gonna go there too, Coryo?” you questioned, your eyes now meeting his. You try to find an answer but find something deeply tangled instead, neither a yes or a no.

You never felt such pity for Coriolanus Snow before as you did now. You put your palm on his cheek. “Come with me,” you said, softening your voice. “Back to the peacekeepers, the general told me about District 2 and I can put in favors so we can be back in the Capitol in no time.”

“You didn't choose Sejanus,” you whispered, the mention of Sej causing him to freeze. “Choose me,” you plead, feeling pathetic for being reduced to this. But it was for your Coryo so it was worth it. Wasn't it?

A chip from the bird makes him look away but you use your hand to make him face you again. Tears begin to pool in your eyes. You find your heart preparing itself for a rejection. “Choose me,” you choke out, a sob in your throat ready to come out when he says no, no, no Lucy Gray it is, never you.

You wait and wait for the rejection, your eyelids closing themselves so he doesn't see himself (or the way you looked at him with love) in the reflective tears. “Look at me,” he whispered, feeling his hot breath on your lips now. And you didn't want to listen but your eyes opened back up, light coming in and he's in your sight.

All glorious as you always thought of Snow.

Snow lands on top.

Haven't every Capitol child learned that from history? You were no exception. And you never planned to be. Even after finding out the truth about his situation, you never thought less of him, if anything everything you felt about him increased tenfold without your consent. Oh, how you should hate him. Oh, but how much you love him.

He leaned in and you didn't move. He stops for a mere second as if reconsidering his decision. But then decided to fuck it because the next thing you know his lips against yours.

He tasted like cheap alcohol, he tasted like ruin and danger. You ate it all up by parting your lips so his tongue could slip in. You let out a moan as his teeth bite into your lips. For a moment you think he's a snake and that he's the one poisoning you. His poison is more potent than an actual snake’s ever could be.

You were simple prey, that's it. Instead of a bullet, he was shooting your heart with a kiss. And it was working because in the future he will be the end of you. A slow, slow poison, he controlled the kiss despite the way his tongue slid against yours was clumsy but so perfect.

You kissed him back to the best of your abilities, wondering briefly if you tasted like the pastry you had in the morning. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth to suck and bite however he wants. Your hands find his buzz cut instead of his golden curls and a whine leaves your lips from the frustration of the loss.

Your hand is on his nape and another is still on his cheek as neither of you breaks the kiss. It didn't matter that you were getting lightheaded. It didn't matter that you could feel your heartbeat increasing due to lack of oxygen. He was everything, you would be damned if you broke the kiss.

You gasp as the kiss is broken. You stare into his eyes, searching for something, anything. But you find nothing but ice blue. It sent chills down your spine but at least he had calmed down now. “Feeling better?” You asked and you got a rough nod as a reply.

“Come on, we have work to do,” he whispered as he pulled back. His dog tag dangles as he begins to walk towards the cabin again, navigating the path with his father's compass.

You find the cabin and the guns. Coriolanus looks at you waiting for a protest, disgust, expecting you to run away just like Lucy Gray. You didn't do anything except sigh, your shoulder wearing down as you realized the truth of it all. You didn't say a word but your hand finds his. He doesn't say anything either but squeezes your hand back. An unspoken promise. He had chosen you. You had chosen him. You were in this together now.

There's no going back.

Both of you row the boat and let the guns sink into the river, never to be found again. You find your way back to the cabin, the rain pouring down again. You sit beside Snow- no, no, still Coryo. Always Coryo. Your head on his shoulder, your knees pressed to your chest as you hear the tip tap of rain outside.

Not a single sound is made. But as time passes and the rain doesn't stop, you begin to crave his lips again. As if that one kiss was morphine, and you needed more to heal the ache of your soul. “Coriolanus,” you whispered.

“Coryo,” he reprimanded softly, his tone enticing as if he was trying to bewitch. You feel your palms sweat as embarrassment begins to nag your mind. You blurt it out before you can think about how pathetic you sound.

“Can I have another kiss, Coryo?”

The next few moments were a blur. Lips on lips. Clumsily tongues meeting each other and whining into each other's mouths. You were shamelessly grinding on Coryo's lap as your lips continued to stay locked with his. “I want you so bad,” you admit as you feel his cock harden underneath you.

“Since the academy,” you whispered against his lips, a moan escaping your lips when he held your hips and began to guide them to grind on his completely hard bulge.

“Oh, yeah?” He mocks, “It's pretty fucking obvious.” He choked off a groan coming out of his mouth, “You're willing to let go of the fact that I am a murderer, huh?” You let out a whimper as he mentioned that. But both of you knew the answer to that, a part of you knew what kind of predator he was. Ever since you knew about how he killed a tribute, you just called it. It never mattered to you how horrible he could be or in this case, is.

“Yes, yes,” you moan into his mouth. Was it an answer or a mere whine about how perfect the friction felt against your pantie-soaked pussy? You didn't know but Coriolanus thought of it as the former. “You gonna be my girl, then? A capitol princess being a peacekeepers’ doll to fuck,” he whispered, his tongue licking a strip of skin on your neck.

You moan as his teeth begin to harshly assault your skin, covering your neck with marks. “Yes,” you gasp, “as long as it's you.” God, how much more pathetic could you be? But it didn't matter, it got him higher and fed his ego after everything that had happened. He loved it and perhaps, he could grow to love you.

Not in the way, Coryo loved Lucy Gray but in the way Snow would love his First Lady.

Your hands tug off his wet t-shirt and throw it on the floor. His hands do the same with your peacekeeper's uniform. He grabs your hips, squeezing the plump of flesh there, his mouth panting into you and he looks at you with dilated eyes.

Time seems to have slowed down as you touch his dog tag, your fingers tracing the name carved into the metal. “I want this. You, right now, right here,” you whispered like it was the biggest secret of your life. “Do you?” You ask as your hands go lower to fiddle with the zipper of his pants.

He doesn't give you a verbal answer, only pulling you into another kiss with his fingers woven into your hair in a fist as his free hand goes down below to free his cock from the confines of his trousers.

You grip his length, stroking it and squeezing out pearly pre-cum from the tip. You savor the deep groan that leaves his lips. “Fuck… just like that, doll,” he instructed and you obey. Your strokes get faster and his pre becomes natural lube as you continue. He lets out a hiss when you twist your wrist and his hand snares around your wrist. “Wanna cum in your cunt first,” he said, breathless from the ecstasy of having your hands on him.

Within moments the remaining clothes on both of you were scattered around the cabin. You moan into his mouth, your fingers desperately clawing at his shoulders as you begin to grind your soaking wet pussy against his hard cock. You gasp, elated by how your folds pressed against his length, his cockhead being teased by your slit but unable to breach the threshold.

The kisses you shared with him were sloppy. Saliva coating his chin as neither of you was willing to separate your lips for a single unnecessary moment. You knew your lips would hurt by the end of this, that they were swollen and the inside of it bleeding because of how insistently his teeth loved to bite your lower lip. He was no better either. You tasted more blood from the kisses now than anything, and it didn't matter to you because somehow the salty, rusty taste felt like just him.

You let out a sound unfitting of a Capitol-raised woman when his cockhead slips inside your gummy walls. His tip now profusely leaks pre-cum inside your gummy walls. You pulled back, biting your lower lip to stop the whimper as you feel his cockhead stretching out your virgin walls.

“That's it, dove,” he lets out, all needy and heated. His hands squeeze your hips to be encouraging as you let yourself down on his cock slowly. “Take it all in. You can do it, doll,” he whispered, as his eyes were down looking at his length entering you, being surrounded by the wicked, addicting warmth of your tight cunt.

“I can?” You let out a whine, as the pain bleeds into the pleasure, the ratio of it throwing you off the dizzy full lust. He hums in encouragement as you finally fill yourself with his dick to the hilt. Your slick walls pulsate around his length.

“Atta girl,” he smiles at you, his eyes brightening up from how well you took him and without any complaints whatsoever. “That's a good slut,” he whispered and smirked when he felt your walls clench around him deliciously.

You tried to move your hips but gave up when the burn made your eyes water. He coos at you encouragingly, telling you to adjust to his girth first. He wasn't going to rut into you like a dog, you're a Capitol girl, not a district whore. He wasn't going to disrespect you like that, no matter how much he wanted you to begin rolling your hips.

So your lips latch onto his neck, while your arms are around him and your legs around his waist. You were clinging to him, as if afraid that if you ease up in your grip he will fade away from your life, from this moment and your reality together. The smell of sex and sweat begins to become stronger than the smell of gunpowder as you continue to give him hickeys in various places on his skin.

Coriolanus doesn't complain that you're marking him like this, not when he's doing the same task with his tongue tracing the love bites his teeth left. And you suspect he rather enjoys when you bite, as his cock twitches whenever your teeth dig into his flesh as if you're eating and your wet tongue licks over the bite as if you're tasting the flavor of his skin.

When you're finally comfortable with his cock being inside the most intimate part of you. You slowly but surely begin to make small, shallow thrusts that have you gasping, your eyes rolling back with how good it feels already because he was fucking into your g-spot with every roll of your hips. The thrusts were teasing, it had him groaning praises of you being a good girl and his hold tightening over your hips, surely leaving bruises.

You begin to relish the feeling of being stuffed, his cockhead kissing your cervix when you get the angle just right. Your folds coat him with your creamy juices, a ring of white forming on his base with how wet you were. Slowly but surely the pleasure begins to build up, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to put up force with the way you rock back and forth on his cock.

You pant into his mouth, your lips letting out sharp moans when his dick strokes your walls just right. He lets you control the pace, his mouth busy latching onto your nipple to suck. His tongue swirls around the bud, hardening it inside his mouth and he nips your nipple just to have you jolt from the bite and squeeze down on his cock.

One of his hands now kneads the other breast he wasn't giving much attention to, his fingers rolling the nipple, pinching the bud, and playing with it. His other hand goes between your bodies and finds your clit. You soon realize he was working with a pattern that was driving you insane, turning your cunt into a hotter slicker mess.

When he swirled his tongue around your nipple, his fingers did roll the other bud. Meanwhile, his thumb would drive small, rapid circles onto your swollen bundle of nerves. When he bit into your nipple, his fingers pinched your clit making you gasp with thunderous pleasure filling your veins.

He continues at this and tension begins to build up in your tummy. You close your eyes as animalistic instincts begin to take over your body. The need to cum overrides everything else as you begin to roll your hips faster and harder. Desperate to cum around his cock for the first time of many times in your life. He feels the same way because he encourages you with his hips bucking into you, thrusting perfectly inside of your slick walls.

“So close, Coryo!” You moan, your nails leaving red lines in their path on his shoulders. He latches off your breasts to whisper, “Cum then, my slut. Let me feel you milk my cock like a good cockwhore would.” You let out a louder moan at his words. His condescending tone snaps the tension that had formed in your tummy, you begin to cum.

Your pussy spasming around his cock, triggering his orgasm. He empties his balls inside of you without any hesitation, filling you up with his thick, hot cum. “That's a good girl. Look how well you took me. Look at the cum leaking out, dove,” his tone teasing, like many times he has teased in classes but the context of this was entirely different.

You look down, your pussy clenching around his cock again when you see his seed ooze out of you. Your body slumps into him, tired from all of this. Both mentally and physically. The storm was still going on. You lay in his arms, his cum now coating the insides of your thighs.

“You're smarter than Lucy Gray,” he said, “I pray you know better than to run. I won't miss the next time.”

You shake your head, trying to hide the smile forming on your face. Others would have run from his words, anyone sane would. Lucy Gray did after all. But you were just you.

“If I wanted to run, I wouldn't have found you in the first place,” you whispered, sealing your words with a soft kiss on his lips.

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[rafecameronssl4t]

Im so obsessed with all your canon fics AND ur rafe x thorton!reader 😭 are u able to do one based off s2 ep 8 where topper is tryna look for his sister at tannyhill even though rafe and reader had a huge argument and weren’t on speaking terms and rafe gets all protective when topper says “I’ll just track her”

Tracked || Rafe Cameron x Thorton!reader

idk where this gif is from soz :(

A/n: thank uuuuuuu 💗 hope u like this :)

Warnings: slut-shaming, swearing, if there’s anything else lmk

Word count: 745

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

"It's seven feet high, plated in gold, and encrusted with diamonds. What do you think?" The guy's tone dripped with condescension. Rafe's eyes narrowed as he scoffed, "I was just asking."

The low rumble of an approaching vehicle drew their attention. The sound grew louder until a high-rise car came into view, gliding to a stop nearby. The door opened with a careful click, and out stepped Topper.

"Shit," Rafe muttered under his breath. He straightened up, eyes narrowing further as Topper approached. "Hey, Rafe," Topper greeted, his voice attempting to be calm but betraying a hint of nervousness. "I've got no beef, man. I'm just looking for Y/n."

At the mention of your name, Rafe's expression darkened, a deep frown setting on his lips. His jaw clenched as he took a step forward, practically bristling with irritation. "Y/n's not here," he snapped, each word dripping with disdain. "Go find her somewhere else."

He waved a dismissive hand, already turning his back on Topper, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation. Topper furrowed his eyebrows, confusion and frustration evident on his face. "What do you mean, Y/n's not here? She's nowhere else on this goddamn island." Rafe looked at him in disbelief. "How would I know where your sister is, huh?"

Topper opened his mouth to retort but then shut it, the words dying on his lips. Rafe's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and hurt. "And one thing you should know, Top," Rafe's voice was calm, though his expression remained hard, "I got nothing against you, even though you totally punked me the other night."

Topper scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Really? Were you too coked-out to remember slut-shaming my sister?" His hands flew to his head in a mocking gesture, mimicking a crazy person.

Rafe's expression darkened instantly at Topper's words. He lunged forward aggressively, forcing Topper to retreat a step. "Slut-shaming? I wasn't slut-shaming her," Rafe spat back, his voice growing louder and more defensive with each word. "I was provoked, all right?" His frustration was palpable as he took a few more menacing steps forward, his eyes blazing with anger.

Topper nervously wetted his lips, sensing the volatile energy in the air. "All right, man," he muttered, attempting to defuse the escalating tension as he backed toward his car.

Rafe's anger flared, his eyes burning with intensity. "You think I want her hanging around those fucking pogues? Huh?" he shouted, his voice dripping with rage and disdain. Topper stopped in his tracks, turning back to face him.

"Is that what you really think?" Rafe continued, his voice rising with every word. "Your sister is on a pedestal, and she keeps stooping low to hang out with those pogues!" His rant echoed in the tense silence, each word laced with venom. Topper stayed silent, his expression unreadable.

"Is that where she is? Is she with those pogues?" Topper finally questioned, his annoyance simmering just below the surface, the idea gnawing at him. "Where the hell else would she be? Huh?" Rafe walked toward Topper, his tone mocking. "Unless she found some other sucker. Yeah?" He spat, his anger evident. Topper shook his head, a realization dawning on him.

"I can just track her," Topper suddenly realized, pulling out his phone as he walked back to his car. "I completely forgot. I can track her on my phone."

Rafe's eyebrows furrowed as he watched Topper. "What? Are you spying on her?" he demanded, his voice rising with suspicion, his eyes narrowing.

"No, I'm not spying on her!" Topper snapped, exhaling sharply in frustration. "She's my sister, and I care about her. I just want to make sure she's okay after that stunt you pulled on her the other day."

Rafe slowly nodded, his lips pursed in thought. As Topper reached for his car door, his fingers brushing the handle, Rafe lunged forward and yanked the phone out of his hand.

"Jeez, give me my phone back," Topper argued, his voice tinged with irritation and a hint of desperation. He reached out, trying to grab the phone, but Rafe held it just out of his reach, a smirk playing on his lips.

"What? Calm down, all right? Just wanna make amends with her." Rafe chuckled, his tone mocking. He glanced at the screen, his expression unreadable, "What the hell is she doing on the cut?" He scoffed, rolling his tongue against his cheek before tossing the phone back at Topper and turning away.

"Rafe!" Topper called out, frustration and desperation mingling in his voice. Rafe didn't stop. "Go home, Top," he called back, his voice fading as he walked away.

~

"I can't believe he did that!" You cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks as Pope patted your back gently, and JJ handed you another tissue. "In front of all those people, too," you sniffled, feeling a mix of hurt and disbelief.

"What he did was pretty fucked up, but it showed his true colors, right?" Pope said, his tone hopeful, trying to offer some perspective as you shook your head. The two boys exchanged a look of concern. "No, no, that wasn't him that night," you said quietly, your fingers fidgeting with your ring. "You're right, it was the devil—" JJ began, but you cut him off sharply.

"No, JJ. He was high out of his mind. I-I thought he only did it occasionally, but..." Your voice faltered, overwhelmed with disappointment and confusion. This time, Pope interjected gently. "Y/n, he's always been a coke addict. You just never noticed," Pope said softly, his words carrying the weight of a truth that was hard to accept.

“But still—” You’re abruptly cut off by JJ, who shushes you sharply. “That’s rude—” you start again, only to be silenced once more as JJ places a firm finger on your lips. You stare at him, puzzled. “Did you guys hear that?” he whispers, his eyes darting around.

“I think someone’s here.” Pope and JJ exchange a serious glance and immediately get to their feet. “Stay here,” JJ instructs firmly. You sniffle and nod, whispering, “‘kay”

“Where the fuck is she?” Rafe’s voice echoes, the door slamming shut behind him. “She doesn’t want to see you, man,” JJ interjects firmly as Rafe scoffs incredulously.“Yeah, she—she tell you that, huh?” Rafe’s disbelief is palpable as he glares at the two friends.

“Y/n! Come out! I know you’re in there!” Rafe’s voice grows louder and more desperate from outside. Inside, you sit up at the sound of his plea. “I told you, she doesn’t—” JJ starts, but Rafe cuts him off sharply.

“Shut the fuck up, pogue,” Rafe groaned in frustration, his patience wearing thin as he glanced between JJ and Pope. “Listen, I just need to talk to her, okay? I’m not gonna do anything, she’s my fucking girlfriend,” he insisted, his voice carrying a mix of exasperation and longing, pleading for understanding.

JJ and Pope exchange a glance, their expressions hesitant and protective. “Not a chance—” JJ starts to say, but you cut in decisively, causing all three of them to turn and look at you. “It’s fine,” you call out, your voice steady yet laced with emotion. You meet Rafe’s softened gaze, swallowing hard before continuing. “You want to talk? I’m right here, Rafe. Talk.”

[lymtw]

Lazy days with Toji where you're sitting between his legs, just basking in his presence. You're laid back against his chest, scrolling through your socials, while he attempts to focus on whatever is playing on the TV screen. His arms are wrapped around your waist, securely, and his chin rests on your shoulder as he watches the movie you put on.

It's practically background noise for you because you're not paying attention, but when you're the one not focused, Toji takes the hit for it too because you constantly interrupt him by showing him videos of food with the promise of making it for him someday. You're also feeding him your broken humor in the form of memes, and though he doesn't find the actual images you show him funny, he cracks up at the way you laugh so hard that you squirm uncontrollably against him in your fit of laughter. He rolls his eyes with a sly smirk on his face at your giggles in the aftermath of your laughter, but still, he can't help but wonder how he got you.

You settle against him again, allowing him to keep watching the movie in peace, only now he sees no point in it. He's lost on the plot, and it's not as interesting without you going 'You like tomatoes, right? Or... at least tomato sauce, right?' or something food related every three minutes. His hands are moving now, his arms still around your lower stomach. You pay no mind to it because he's probably doing it mindlessly.

You're no stranger to him placing his hands on you while completing other tasks. You see his nonchalant front as he makes his way towards you but as soon as he rounds the corner, you can feel the wolfish grin radiating as he comes up behind you. He's there for a mug, but he'll do extra to show you that he's there behind you. He'll grab your hips and pull you back until your ass is against his crotch. Sometimes you resist the pull to mess with him, but he always manages to pull your body into his, a bite to your shoulder following as "punishment" for rejecting him.

For the strangest reason, his advances shook you this time. One hand felt up your bare outter thigh, following the expanse of it until he couldn't reach anymore. Then he went to the underside of it, squeezing the flesh a couple times. Your heart was pounding, but you stayed focused on your phone, or attempted to once his other hand started teasing the knot of the bow tied above your waistband.

He slowly unraveled the knot, allowing the elastic band of your shorts to loosen and give his hand more space. You think he's watching the movie, but really, he's watching you react through his peripheral vision. His hand travels further down your shorts, his middle finger ghosting your slit through your underwear. The touch is barely there, but it has your stomach doing cartwheels. He sighs, his fingers going back up to the lace trimming of your underwear. The sound just barely reached your ears, but it had a lasting effect as he continued to let his hands roam your lower body. He puts his fingers through the left leg hole of your underwear, the digits snapping the elastic against your hip.

You found another video to show him, but you saved it instead to show him later. You don't know exactly what is running through his mind, but it's completely welcome if it involves him continuing to touch you this way.

His fingers drag back down to your slit, this time applying more pressure. You twitch against him, earning that sly grin that appears when he knows he's working you up. You try to ground yourself and keep it together a little longer by putting your leg up, only for Toji to push it back down onto the couch.

"What's wrong, mama?" He mumbles into your shoulder. "Getting real fidgety outta nowhere."

"I'm okay," you assure, turning to give him a kind smile.

He takes it up a notch, allowing his hand to go under your sweater. He uses the privilege he has on your body so adeptly that even his hand placements are enough to force heat to run through you. The feeling of his hand grazing your skin fuels the fire that is kindled within you. He lets his blunt nails drag along the left side of your waist, slowly merging toward your midriff and upwards, before reaching the bottom of your bra. It's no restriction to him, he can just go under it.

He hums, feeling the blood rush down to his dick at the feeling of your warm breast in his hand. It only takes one brush of his finger to make your nipple quickly harden, a feeling that makes you feel like you're buzzing with electricity.

Toji is so well versed in your anatomy, it kind of embarrasses you sometimes that he doesn't have to try so hard to soften you up. He did so well at memorizing your body that he doesn't really have to look anymore to know that his touch is affecting you. That is not to be mistaken for him not wanting to watch his effects take a toll on you, because he would gladly watch you submissively fall apart for hours.

Your stomach tenses as he combines both forms of stimulation, a muffled moan coming from you as fall back on Toji's chest, your sleeve over your mouth.

He laughs at the way your eyes flutter shut, your brows pinching when he doesn't let up even after you waved your white flag. You know better than to think he'd let you walk away without making you cum on his fingers at least once.

"Why are you muting yourself, ma?" He breathes against your ear. "Don't you know it gets me hard when you whine and moan for me?"

You sigh, your phone shaking in your grip. "O-Okay, Toji. Won't do it again," you say in the most delicate tone. You turn your phone screen off and give your undivided attention to Toji and his torturous touch.

"Right. You wanna cum, don't you?"

"Mhm," you mumble, setting your hands down on his thighs.

"Oh, you can do better than that. Tell me you want to cum." His lips find the side of your neck, nudging the material of your sweater aside so that he can ghost the slope that leads to your shoulder. The urge to bite the exposed skin is almost unbearable.

Your hips roll slightly against his crotch, earning a slight groan from him. His cock is rock hard, but he's gonna get you off first since he was the one who got you all riled up in the first place. "Please make me cum, Toji. Please? Pretty please?"

Your words go straight to his dick. You've always been so well mannered—so good at begging for what you want. Being Toji's lover turned you even more politely submissive. Does this mean you deserve to cum quickly every time? Not in Toji's reality because he loves to see the feral look in your bleary eyes when he leaves you hanging.

He chuckles, quickening the movements of the hand teasing your drooling pussy. "Taught you how to beg real good, huh? Who knows what the bratty side of you would bring out of me."

"F-Fuck, fuck Toji," you inhale, exhaling shakily as his hands pause to switch positions.

"I could tame that side of you, too," he says in a taunting tone, as if daring you to rebel against him someday. "I'd get you in this exact position, even if you wanna be a stuck up little princess." His right hand snakes up your sweater, repeating the same process as before of exploring your skin before getting to your breast.

"Mm-mm, no," you whine, squirming in his hold. "'M only good for you, T-Toji."

"Yeah? I'll hold you accountable if it turns out otherwise," he murmurs into your shoulder, his voice like drizzling honey in contrast to the threat. He can feel you gushing even more, his fingers collecting more slick with every up and down of his fingers. "Fuck, you considering it now?"

"N-No I wouldn't... Toji, I wouldn't." Your hands squeeze his thighs, refraining from using your nails.

"Then why'd your cunt start drooling even more when I told you what would happen?"

"Toji..." you whine, your cheeks burning up.

He chuckles, "S'all good, ma. I got you."

"T-Toji, I- Can I cum? Please, please, Toji?"

"Already? I just started, princess. Can you hold it?" He asks, slowing his strokes.

"I don't t-think so... 'm sorry, please..."

He sighs, no trace of disappointment in the sound, rather pride for turning you into a sloppy mess in such a short span of time.

"You'll have to make it up to me. Didn't last very long, you know?" He rolls your nipple between his fingers, amused by the way your body vibrates at the overwhelming stimulation.

"Mhm... yes, Toji. Whatever you want."

He can't hold back the wicked grin that forms at your thoughtless, pleading words for mercy.

"'Kay, mama. Make it worth it."

His fingers make direct contact with your pussy for the first time since he started playing with you. His thumb focused on your clit, while his middle and index finger tease your entrance. His lips go for your neck again, planting wet kisses on the warm skin. He's so overwhelming in every aspect when he makes you cum. You're entirely suffocated by him and you love it.

You don't last another five seconds before completely falling apart on Toji, crying out his name followed by a barrage of moans. Your back arched and your legs came up to assist you in squeezing the life out of Toji's hand. Had he not braced you with the one arm he had up your sweater, you would have completely slid down his body and laid there curled up in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"Up, mama. Stay up," he instructs. His hand goes flat on your chest, pressing you against him to keep you as steady as possible as you writhe in soul crushing pleasure.

Eventually, you go limp, laying your legs flat on the couch again. Toji chuckles, sadistically, at the broken down husk that remains of you. He attempts to bring you back to life by prodding at your overstimulated cunt and you react the way he expected, pushing at his arm to stop it.

He pulls his hands out of their designated areas, wiping your cum off on his sweatpants. "Hey," he calls, poking your forehead when he notices you dozed off.

"Mm..." you hum, in response. You roll your eyes open with a lazy grin etched on your face, an expression that added pressure to the brick in Toji's pants.

"Let's go to the bed. Fucking is not gonna be comfortable here." He traces your jaw with his fingers.

"I can't walk," you mumble, exaggerating to get him to carry you.

"Oh, you poor baby," he mocks. "That won't be a lie once i'm done with you."

You use every ounce of effort to push yourself forward to try and crawl away from him, but he pulls you back by the arm and secures you in his hold again. You giggle as he wraps your legs around his waist.

"Trynna pull a fast one on me?" He chuckles. "Well, aren't you precious?" He pushes off the couch using his foot to boost his momentum, a groan leaving him as he adjusts to standing after sitting for so long.

You surrender yourself to him willingly. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, getting drunk off his scent, and watch as the light that illuminates the living room disappears out of sight when you reach the bedroom.

[hoshifighting]

Ways to Have a Man in the Palm of Your Hand.

— Synopsis: In the flow of uncertainty that defined your situationship with Mingyu, you decide to take action, making Mingyu start chasing after you like a loyal puppy. — WC: 3.9k — WARNINGS: Smut, unprotected sex, overstimulation, degradation, begging on knees, oral (f. receiving), fingering– he watches reader fingering herself, handjob, dick riding, penetrative sex, humiliating, manipulation and etc.

Your life connected with Mingyu's since you both first met through your groups of friends, and a situationship had emerged between you two. It was just sex, with no strings attached and no promises made.

Yet, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, it became challenging to keep your heart safe from the unpredictable tides of emotion.

Mingyu had a way of making you feel special. He'd surprise you with homemade dinners, he was attentive, considerate, and made sure to put your self-esteem on the highest with his skillful photography.

The tall and good-looking guy wasn't just amazing during sex; he was an enigma that both fascinated and frustrated you. Mingyu could vanish for days, leaving you on blue. But just as you were about to write him off, he'd resurface, as if nothing had happened. It was a maddening cycle, and yet, you found yourself caught in its web.

Mingyu: Hey! Been swamped asf with work lately. Let's grab coffee or something stronger soon? Let me know when you're free!

You couldn't help but scoff as you read Mingyu's message. His casual tone and nonchalant invitation stirred a mix of irritation and amusement within you. Swiftly typing a response, you questioned his unpredictable appearances.

You: Are you planning on always popping up out of nowhere like this?

Mingyu: I always come back, don't I? So, when are we catching up darling?

Despite the inner conflict and your ego's warning signals, there was an undeniable allure to Mingyu's charm. His words, laced with playfulness, had a magnetic effect that bypassed rational thoughts. With a sigh, you found yourself succumbing to the familiar pull.

The room was filled with the echoes of skin slapping as you both lay on Mingyu's bed, your eyes locked as you two moaned out loud, the crescendo of pleasure punctuated by the rhythmic thud of the bed against the wall.

Mingyu lays beside you, the heat of the moment still lingering between your bodies. You rose from the tangled sheets, picking up your scattered clothes. Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on you, an intensity that betrayed a deeper connection than the situationship allowed. 

"I really like spending time with you Y/N" 

"Me too Gyu." 

[...]

Seungkwan leaned in "Okay, spill. What's the latest drama with Mingyu?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Honestly, I can't figure him out. It's like a cycle. We talk every day for a month, hang out, fuck, and then poof! He disappears for a week or more. I don't get it."

Seungkwan chuckled knowingly. "You know, maybe you should try something. Do the same to him, but take it up a notch. Make him miss you even more."

You furrowed your eyebrows, slightly taken aback. "Seungkwan, I'm not into playing games or being spiteful. It's not my style."

He waved his hand dismissively. "No, no, hear me out. It's not about being spiteful. It's about making him realize what he's missing. Mingyu knows you'll always be there, right? So, he takes it for granted. Maybe he needs a taste of his own medicine."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. "And how exactly do I do that?"

Your mouth hung open as Seungkwan delivered his comprehensive lesson in the art of emotional tactics. The confidence in his advice left you both amazed and slightly apprehensive. Unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you finally asked the burning question.

"How on earth do you know all of this, Seungkwan?" you inquired, eyes wide with disbelief.

Seungkwan leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, my dear friend, when you've been in the game as long as I have and witnessed enough romantic dramas unfold, you start picking up on patterns. It's like a survival guide for the heart."

You raised an eyebrow, still processing the information. "Survival guide, huh? And all this contempt, playing hard to get, and hurting egos – that's your secret weapon?"

Seungkwan chuckled, "Not a secret weapon, sometimes, a little strategic move can make all the difference. Trust me, I've seen it all."

With Seungkwan's advice resonating in your mind like a strategic playbook, you approached the next phase of your relationship with Mingyu, with a newfound determination. It felt like diving into a complex homework assignment, each step carefully calculated to shift the dynamics in your favor.

As you decided to implement the first step, a newfound sense of liberation washed over you. You stopped responding to Mingyu's messages immediately and resisted the urge to initiate contact. It felt strange at first, but there was a sense of power in reclaiming your time and not being at his beck and call. Mingyu's messages awaited your attention. 

The challenge of making Mingyu realize he could lose you sparked a newfound determination. Your calendar filled up with plans that didn't involve Mingyu. Mingyu, accustomed to your constant availability, seemed to sense the change, though he couldn't quite pinpoint it. He might have been the object of desire for many hoes, but your indifference challenged his accustomed narrative. 

After all, a man is not more important than your personal goals, right?

All while allowing Mingyu to observe your life unfolding without him. The realization that you were not waiting by the phone for him sparked a large curiosity.

Throughout the process, a mix of emotions surfaced. Doubt, at times, whispered in the back of your mind – was this the right approach? Seungkwan's advice, unconventional as it was, had brought a shift in Mingyu's behavior. Now, you wondered how Mingyu would respond to the transformed version of you – a person who refused to be taken for granted.

Mingyu's relentless messages flooded your phone. The janitor, a silent witness to the unfolding drama, discreetly shared the news of Mingyu's visits to your condominium entrance. Three times he had appeared, seeking a glimpse of you, only to be met with the absence of your presence, the deliberate distance, and the air of indifference were beginning to provoke a reaction from him.

You were determined to see this journey through, to understand whether Mingyu's renewed interest was genuine or a fleeting reaction to the perceived loss of control.

The persistent pings of Mingyu's messages had become a constant background noise in your life, infiltrating your workdays and even interrupting the serene moments of your brunches.

"Free today, Ms. Busy?"

"Pls respond to me. :(("

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Wtf…"

"Omggg, when are you going to answer me properly?"

"I'll invade your house."

"Y/N-ieeee, pleaseee!"

"I really want to see you right now."

"You make me so confused :("

The encounter at the pedestrian crossing unfolded in a scene of unexpected tension. Mingyu, spotting you in the midst of your Sunday morning run with Seungkwan, seized the opportunity to bridge the gap that had grown between you. As you halted, waiting for the light to change, Mingyu approached, a mixture of eagerness and confusion etched across his face.

"Hey there! Fancy meeting you here," Mingyu greeted, attempting to strike up a conversation.

Seungkwan, standing beside you, looked on with a side-eyed glance, a smirk playing on his lips as he sipped casually from his water bottle. As the pedestrian light shifted to green, you seized the moment to extricate yourself from the short encounter. "Sorry, Mingyu, I really need to finish my morning walk. Catch you later," you excused yourself, leaving Mingyu standing there, perplexed and surrounded by the bustling activity of the street.

He couldn't shake off the confusion – Why weren't you responding as before? Why weren't you as available as you used to be? Did you at least still like him? It dawned on Mingyu that the game had changed, and he wasn't sure if he understood the rules anymore. The pursuit, once fueled by the expectation of your constant availability, now seemed to slip through his fingers like grains of sand. The reality of being just one among the many who sought your attention was a bitter pill to swallow.

[...]

The doorbell's unexpected chime disrupted the tranquility of your self-care routine, with moisturized skin and a mind ready for a cozy movie night, you approached the door, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

As you swung the door open, the sulky face of Mingyu greeted you. A momentary pause hung in the air, your eyes meeting his in silent expectation. Before you could utter a word, Mingyu stepped inside, dropping to his knees and hugging your legs as if seeking solace.

Surprised by his sudden display of vulnerability, you widen your eyes, caught off guard by the intensity of his reaction. The door lingered ajar, and you managed to close it, arms crossed, a mixture of confusion and caution etched on your face.

Mingyu, still hugging your legs, looked up at you with pleading eyes, his voice laden with remorse. "What did I do, Y/N? Why are you treating me like this? I'm sorry."

"Hm?"

He looked up at you, his eyes brimming with a mix of confusion and regret. "I just… I don' understand. I miss you," he admitted, his voice trailing off.

Your initial surprise transformed into a mix of emotions – disbelief, a hint of empathy, and the need to assert your newfound boundaries. Crossed arms and a measured gaze met Mingyu's desperate expression. The sudden intrusion into your personal space prompted a silent assessment of the situation.

"What did you expect, Mingyu?" you countered, your voice steady but laced with the weight of unspoken questions. "You disappear, then reappear, and now you're kneeling in my living room. What's going on?"

"I messed up, okay? I thought I could keep things casual, but I didn't expect to feel like this. I miss the way things used to be between us." he confessed, his voice carrying a raw honesty.

"You ask me to come to your house, and then after you get what you wanted, you let me go. Do I look like a food delivery or something?" you confronted Mingyu, your words cutting through the charged silence that hung in the room.

Mingyu's eyes widened at your accusation, shock and a hint of hurt registering on his face. "No, no, no, Y/N, it wasn't like that."

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of skepticism and frustration evident in your expression. "It feels like you only want me around when it's convenient for you."

Mingyu, still on his knees, looked up at you, his eyes pleading for understanding. "It's not like that. I just... I didn't want to push you. I thought you preferred it this way."

You sighed, the weight of the unresolved tension palpable. "Mingyu, I can't read your mind. If you want me to stay, you have to say it. Communication goes both ways."

"Y/N, I'm truly sorry. I'll do whatever you want. I didn't see you as just a fleeting thing, and I want to be present."

Mingyu's earnest apology hung in the air, a plea for understanding and a promise to change. As he laid his face on your bare thighs, expressing his sincere regret, you cut through the moment with a tsk sound, a dismissive gesture that left him wide-eyed and caught off guard.

"Poor boy, begging on his knees for attention. What a shame," you remarked, a hint of teasing in your voice as you observed his reaction.

Mingyu, his hands now gripping each side of your thighs, sat back on his feet, his expression a mix of surprise and a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He hadn't anticipated this response, your playful teasing catching him off guard.

"You didn't see me as a fleeting thing?" you continued, your tone mockingly contemplative. "Well, Mingyu, this is quite a sight – you, on your knees, practically begging for my attention. I'd never do something like this."

His widened eyes met yours, uncertainty and a trace of embarrassment flickering in them. Mingyu's bit his lip, cheeks flushing deeper.

"I'll do whatever you want, Y/N. Just tell me," Mingyu replied, his hands still holding your thighs.

You let out a soft chuckle, running a hand through his hair as you continued your teasing. "Oh, Mingyu-ah, the mighty one on his knees. Maybe you'll learn to appreciate what you have when it's not handed to you on a silver platter. Now, let's see if you can keep up with your promises."

As you spoke, Mingyu's cheeks continued to flush, a complex dance of emotions playing out on his face.  "How can you forgive me?" 

Mingyu's question hung in the air, a genuine plea for forgiveness. You paused, considering the weight of his words, before adopting a more serious tone.

"Get up," you instructed him, your voice carrying a command that seemed to catch him off guard.

Mingyu, without hesitation, rose to his feet from his submissive position. His eyes fixed on you. An arched eyebrow and a smirk played on your face, savoring the moment of dominance as you instructed him to follow you.

The atmosphere grew charged with anticipation as Mingyu attentively trailed behind you, his eyes inevitably drawn to your body covered only by a shirt. The click of your bedroom door signaled a shift in the dynamics, and when you turned to face him, his eagerness manifested in an attempted kiss.

Your finger halted his advance, a calculated pause preceding your question, "Do you think you deserve to kiss me?"

Mingyu, his eyes reflecting a mix of longing and remorse, shook his head no. Your smirk deepened as you delivered a verdict that left him whimpering.

"Then you won't kiss me today."

A whimper escaped Mingyu's lips, a sound that echoed the frustration and desire that simmered beneath the surface. The unexpected turn of events had left him yearning for a connection, yet you, in your assertive control, denied him that solace.

As the tension hung in the air, Mingyu's eyes glistened with unshed tears. The dynamics between you had taken a surprising turn, a power play that left both of you navigating the intricate threads of desire, forgiveness, and the consequences of a maybe – ex-complicated situationship.

With a commanding tone, you instructed Mingyu to kneel once again, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. He obeyed, sinking down to his knees with a mix of anticipation and eagerness. The air in the room crackled with a palpable tension as you laid down the terms.

"If you act like a good boy, maybe I'll forgive you," you declared, your voice carrying a hint of authority.

Mingyu nodded earnestly, a silent pledge to abide by your terms. As you proceeded to remove your shirt, next your pantie, allowing it to fall to the floor, the atmosphere became charged with a new layer of intensity. 

"How much do you want this pussy Mingyu?" you inquired, the question hanging in the air as you observed Mingyu's reaction. His shoulders slumped, a subtle expression of desire and longing evident on his face.

"A lot," he moaned, the words escaping his lips with a mixture of need and surrender. Your legs spread open, an invitation too tempting, as he feels his mouth waters at the view. 

"Open your mouth," you commanded Mingyu, your voice carrying an air of authority. He complied without hesitation, anticipation flickering in his eyes.

As he held his mouth open, you slid two fingers inside, the intimate contact a subtle exploration of boundaries and desire. Mingyu's tongue teased your fingers, a provocative dance that elicited a hiss from you.

"No teasing," you admonished, a note of warning in your voice. With a swift motion, you delivered a little slap to his chin as you withdrew your fingers from his mouth. The air crackled with a newfound tension, a moment that blurred the lines between control and submission.

Mingyu furrowed his eyebrows, as he watched your fingers slowly disappearing inside of your cunt, your fingers and your slick gushes out of you, and all he can do is watch. He sits patiently on his feet, watching your fingers leaving and entering your pussy in a too provocative rhythm. His bottom lip quivering to the desire of eating you out.

"Please Y/N…"

"What?''

"Please, let me eat you out, it looks so good…"

To tease him even more, you fastened your fingers, moaning while your cunt sounded like Mingyu's favorite song, wet, luscious, mouthwatering, appetizing, tempting. He cries out, his hands together on his lap. "Please, I beg you, I missed you so bad." 

The room was charged with a blend of anticipation and surrender as you stopped, taking a moment to look at Mingyu's mournful face. The desire in his eyes was palpable, and the silent plea for what he had begged for lingered in the air.

With a subtle nod, you allowed him to fulfill his request. Mingyu, starved and eager, approached the task with a concentration that hinted at a deep desire to please you. As he held you with a gentle yet fervent touch, mouthing your pussy, licking you clean, his focus on your pleasure was unwavering. The way he clung to you conveyed a fear of losing you, made you mewl as he sucked your clit, you held onto the sheets, a silent anchor in the sea of sensations. Mingyu's devotion and the way he concentrated on your pleasure only intensified the building release within you. Like a wave, you're cumming all over his mouth and chin, he hums in response flickering your clit with his tongue.

"Enough." You breathe out, closing your legs. "Strip, and lay for me." 

Mingyu rose from the floor, a determined look on his face, seemingly oblivious to any discomfort his knees might be feeling. The sounds of his clothing being discarded echoed in the room, punctuated by the soft thud as he settled onto the bed. The mattress shifted as he moved closer, his warm touch caressing your arm.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, his voice a low murmur, a hint of curiosity and desire lingering in the air.

"Don't touch me," you instructed Mingyu, your tone carrying a note of command as you climbed onto his lap. Leaving him momentarily frozen, his hands hovering in the air, uncertain of where to go.

The close proximity of his cock intensified the wetness between your thighs. Mingyu, eager and responsive, looked at you with a mix of desire and restraint, his hands now cautiously placed together on his chest.

The atmosphere crackled with a blend of dominance and submission as you straddled Mingyu, humping your wet pussy against his cock, your movements deliberate and provocative. His moans in response to your degrading words only heightened the intensity of the moment.

"Oh my god, look at you," you cooed, your voice a mix of mockery and desire. "I just stopped paying attention to you, and you came fucking begging me to talk with you. You're humiliating, Mingyu."

His moans, a symphony of pleasure and submission, filled the room. Mingyu's response to your degrading words conveyed a complex dance of desire and self-awareness. The acknowledgment that he deserved the degradation.

The room filled with a momentary hush as you sank your hips, Mingyu's length now fully inside. He shut his eyes, a silent surrender to the sensations that enveloped him. 

The unspoken admission hung in the air—though you wouldn't openly admit it, there was a trace of longing, a subtle acknowledgment that, despite the complexities, you had missed him a little. The air became charged with a mix of desire and restraint as your hips rode him, his length fully fulfilling the connection between you.

His angry tip brushed against that special spot, sending a surge of pleasure through both of you, cause now, you were so tight around him. "I'm going to cum, f-fuck"

"You better not." 

The charged atmosphere intensified as you edged Mingyu, denying him release, while simultaneously relishing in the control you held over his pleasure. He gasped for air, his eyes clenched shut, a desperate attempt to hold back as your dominating presence and the sensations of your movements threatened to overwhelm him.

Your hips moved with a purposeful intensity, driving him to the edge, and his body contorted in a desperate attempt to maintain control. The struggle was evident in the way his breath hitched and his eyes rolled back, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure that surged through him.

"I-I can't hold it anymore," he stuttered, his voice strained with the effort of restraint.

"If you cum, I will-"

The moment of release was inevitable. Mingyu's hot cum filled you, triggering your own orgasm, he cried out your name, making your wall clench harder around him.

As Mingyu managed a string of apologies, you allowed him to slide out of you, leaving his lap coated with both of your arousal, your legs damp with his seed. 

The scoff echoed in the room, a mix of amusement and assertion. However, your actions spoke a different language. As you tighten your legs around the sides of Mingyu's legs, restraining his movement, your hands take control, pumping his cock fast. The focus on his red tip elicited a loud cry from Mingyu, his back lifting off the mattress in response to the overstimulation.

The wet sounds filled the bedroom as the intensity of your touch drove him to the edge. Mingyu's hands gripped the pillow beneath his head, a desperate attempt to anchor himself in the whirlwind of sensations that consumed him.

As Mingyu's body trembled under the heightened sensations, he felt a knot tightening in his abdomen, a sensation he hadn't anticipated. The overwhelming intensity built up to a point where he couldn't contain it anymore. A primal scream tore from his lips, his body convulsing in the throes of another orgasm.

His cum pooled on his abdomen, a physical manifestation of the powerful release that coursed through him. You observed his trembling body, struck by the raw intensity of his response. Mingyu's reaction seemed to surpass any previous experiences, his vulnerability and ecstasy on display in a way you hadn't witnessed before.

"Sorry, I came without your permission…"

"Enough with the sorry's, Mingyu," you said with a soft smile. "Let's just take a bath."

As the warm water cascaded around you, cleansing away the external worries, you both found solace in the simplicity of the moment. Emerging from the bath, you lay on the bed alone, the silence speaking volumes. Mingyu, holding his shirt, stood in contemplation. His gaze met yours, and he released a breath he seemed to have been holding.

The room felt charged with unspoken emotions when Mingyu finally gathered the courage to ask, "Can we sleep together tonight? Can I stay here with you?"

His eyes held a lot of shyness, and for a moment, you felt a genuine change in the air. You bit your lip, a subtle smile playing on your lips. In response, you patted the bed twice, a silent invitation for him to join you.

Mingyu threw his shirt away with a smile, a blend of shyness and excitement. He settled on the bed, maintaining a cautious distance, uncertain about what the night held. Your gaze met his, and you turned to face him. His eyes sparkled, and with a newfound boldness, he closed the gap and hugged you tightly.

"Don't be away from me again," he whispered, his voice tinged with vulnerability. And for the first time in those weeks, you let yourself savor the sweet taste of his pink soft lips, making him melt in response.

You smiled, your palms sliding gently along his back. The walls that once stood between you seemed to crumble as Mingyu embraced you, his actions speaking louder than any words. In that moment, it felt like a page turned, and a new chapter began.

Well, Seungkwan, you knew a lot. The five ways to have a man in the palm of your hand indeed. 

[redeemingvillains]

the black lake - mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo is hogwarts' triwizard tournament champion, and he's proven that he can crush the competition. but when the stakes are raised, and you're involved, nothing will get in his way.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: this was was so fun to think about! lots of references to goblet of fire! lots of swearing, matty is not a happy camper in this one. enjoy ♡

Obviously this boy would put his name in the Goblet of Fire (all of the boys did) and there would be a lot of feelings about him being chosen as the Hogwarts champion, lots of accusations about him rigging the selection (he probably did). But he'd definitely crush the competition, especially when he had the right motivation...

ˋ°•*⁀➷

It's the morning of the second task, the day crisp and frosty, creating puffs of air as Mattheo huffed in exertion, marching down to the Black Lake surrounded by his friends. Suffice to say, he was pissed. It was fucking frigid outside and he hadn't seen you all morning, the combination enough to set him dangerously on edge.

You'd told him you'd come spend the night with him, and if nothing else you always ate breakfast together, so when you didn't show up last night and you were nowhere to be found this morning he was furious that you'd blown him off. Now he was spending his entire walk from the castle to the lake ruminating over it, piling on every perceived slight over the last few days, including the way he saw you talking to a group of guys from Durmstrang in the Great Hall yesterday, causing him to involuntarily curl his hands into fists at his side.

His friends walked beside him, surrounding him in a sort of semicircle, but moving in complete silence; they knew better than to try to say anything to him when he was in a mood like this. Before long, Pansy came running to meet them, nearly out of breath as she said, exasperated, "I couldn't fucking find her. She's not anywhere in our dormitory, in the library, I don't know where she's gone." Concern and frustration laced her voice as she looked at the group and then up at Mattheo.

This wasn't like you.

You had been Mattheo's #1 supporter throughout the whole tournament, helping him prepare, cheering him on, jumping into his arms the moment he'd defeated his dragon, and generally always glued to his side. In fact, you were always glued to all of their sides, the group of you being nearly inseparable, so having you missing made all of the boys feel shifty and on edge as they looked at one another.

Fear bloomed in Mattheo's chest. And the feeling of fear when it came to you did not sit well with him. He didn't want to feel afraid, to feel vulnerable when it came to you, so he opted to shove the feeling down, keeping instead with anger which was much easier and more natural to him.

"I don't have time for this" he muttered, quickening his pace as they all scrambled to keep up with him.

The biting wind whipped through his dark curls and stung his cheeks as he stood on the platform above the lake, staring into the middle-distance of the dark and choppy waves. Students and staff alike were cheering and shouting their encouragement for their champions, but he was completely zoned out, his mind bouncing back and forth between your lingering absence and the task ahead of him. He only perked up when Dumbledore's loud voice rang out over the crowd.

"Welcome to the second task!" it radiated.

"Last night something was stolen from each of our champions, a treasure of sorts—"

Mattheo's heart plummeted so fast into his stomach that he subconsciously grasped at his chest. A treasure? There wasn't a thing he owned that he valued enough to call a treasure, not a single thing in his life that held that much weight... except you. You were undeniably his treasure. He looked back into the murky water of the Black Lake... it couldn't be... he thought ... surely they wouldn't... as Dumbledore's voice continued.

"—These four treasures, one for each champion, now lie on the bottom of the Black Lake—" Mattheo's stomach lurched with what little breakfast he'd been able to eat as his eyes shot to Pansy's in the crowd in enough time to see her clasp her hand to her mouth as she pieced the situation together.

"—In order to win, each champion need only find their treasure and return to the surface. Simple enough. Except for this. They will have but one hour to do so and one hour only. After that, they'll be on their own. No magic will save them."

Mattheo's feet were moving before Dumbledore said another word, sprinting towards the water because fuck this stupid tournament, and fuck the geezer for thinking he could take you away from him, that he could put you in danger.

"You may begin at the sound of the cannon."

BOOM!

Mattheo heard the blast as his body hit the water, diving headfirst into the waves without bothering to cast a spell, without a care to what he'd find within the foreboding depths.

The cold shocked his system, but his heart was hammering for plenty of other reasons as he pulled his body through the fierce current, his strong arms and legs working against the waves.

For a minute he was surrounded in dark nothingness. He could feel rather than see that he wasn't alone in the water, occasionally sensing something moving on either side of him, but he didn't have time, you didn't have time for him to care. His lungs started to burn and he pressed his wand to his neck, casting a spell frantically so as not to waste another second.

After swimming at an impossible pace for so long he wondered if there even was a bottom to the lake, he heard an ethereal sound, like singing and changed course to swim towards it, which brought him to a large clearing where he could see merpeople swimming around. The few nearest him whipped their heads toward him, surprised at his presence as they turned to face him fully. He dared them, dared any fucking one of them to come near him, welcomed it actually, a chance to take out his rage, but they steered clear, perhaps sensing it would be a losing battle despite the tritons they carried and their razor-sharp teeth.

He swam on, his muscles straining, aching with the exertion of pulling his weight through the thick water at such an unwavering and desperate pace, but the feeling faded, drained from him, as four distinct figures came into view, four bodies, tethered and floating in the water, their hair moving eerily around their faces, their bodies stiff and still, like corpses.

He identified you immediately and he swam harder and harder until he was close enough to touch you. He brushed a hand against your cheek; your skin held a blueish tint and your face was expressionless, void of the smile that you always had for him, that reached your eyes, that lit up your face, the absence of it was enough to make his eyes sting in a way that had nothing to do with the brackish water.

He grasped your stiff form, the resistance of your body against his continuing to mess with his mind as he sent a spell to sever the rope that secured you and tried not to think about how rigid you felt in his arms.

His ability to breath underwater didn't matter for shit, because he was certain he didn't breath the entire way back, climbing harder and harder as he carried your weight with him, desperate to reach the surface, desperate to save you, thinking the entire time how fucking foolish he'd been to spend even one second mad at you today.

Finally, he could see the light of the surface, the grey clouds in the sky reflecting in the waves, and after a final series of strong kicks he broke through the current.

Immediately, he felt you come alive again in his arms, spluttering and coughing as you grasped for him.

"M-Matty!?" you said hysterically, the cold and fear in your voice setting his heart in a vice as your eyes fluttered open and you looked around in confusion at your surroundings. "What happened?! Where—?!"

"—It's okay, you're okay, you're safe" he said, pulling you against him, keeping you both afloat even as you rocked in the waves and he gasped deeply for air.

"C'mere, c'mon" he said, swimming with you in his embrace towards the platform, anxious to get you out of the freezing water.

The crowd had erupted into cheers when you'd breached the surface, and they were announcing that Mattheo was the champion by a long shot, not having been in the water for more than 20 minutes, the other champions still completely unaccounted for. But hearing talk of the competition and seeing everyone's ignorance about the whole situation as they clapped and smiled was pushing him to his limit as he hoisted you up to Pansy who greeted you with a thick towel.

Mattheo pulled himself out of the water, barely taking time to wrap a towel around his shoulders before grabbing three more and pulling them around you. You laughed under the heavy bundle, even as your shivering continued uncontrollably. "I-I'm okay, I-I'm okay" you said, trying to reassure him, even as you noticed that he wouldn't meet your eyes.

"Buncha fucking idiots" you heard him muttering as he rubbed your arms before he stooped down and swept you off your feet bridal style, one hand around your waist, the other holding on to your legs. The crowd cheered again, erupting in a sigh of "awws" at the gesture until he began barreling towards them.

"Matty?" you asked, concerned, "Where are we—?"

"—Anywhere but here" he growled as people began pushing each other to get out of his way.

"Mr. Riddle!" McGonagall chided, chasing after you both as you watched her from over his shoulder, urging him to stop as a couple of other professors followed in pursuit.

He veered towards the raised platform where the headmasters were seated, coming to a brief stop in from of Dumbledore who had stood to his feet.

"You are out of your fucking mind!" Mattheo spat at him.

Several people around you gasped, even Igor Karkaroff had the wherewithal to look surprised, impressed even, before Mattheo walked away, marching right off the platform and back towards the school as the entire crowd watched you go.

You could tell Mattheo was tired, beyond tired, physically, emotionally; you could feel his arms shaking against your weight.

"Matty, I can walk, it's okay" you said quietly, but he wouldn't let you go, wouldn't set you down, wouldn't even respond to you or meet your eyes. So you resigned yourself to resting your head on his shoulder, nuzzling against his neck which seemed to relax him a bit.

He carried you all the way to his room, making his way to the bathroom where he finally set you down and immediately began running you a hot bath. Wordlessly, he found a towel and a set of his clothes for you to wear, placing them at the edge of the tub before leaving without a word, closing the door gently behind him.

You looked anxiously at the closed door, aware that something was very very wrong, but also acknowledging that he might need a minute, and that you still couldn't feel the tips of your fingers or toes, so you resigned yourself to the hot water.

It felt heavenly, as did washing the muck of the lake off your skin and out of your hair. You reveled in the smell of his soap, like cedar and evergreen, but you were too anxious to sit there any longer than necessary, quickly pulling on his sweatpants and sweatshirt that engulfed your frame as you toweled your hair dry and pushed the door open.

Mattheo was seated at the edge of his bed, still dripping wet, his body shaking noticeably as he stared at the ground. He glanced up when he heard you, visibly relaxing a bit as he took in your warm, rosy cheeks and your soft smile, his mind flashing for only a moment to your unsmiling rigid form floating in the water, trying to reconcile that version of you with the one in front of him.

You approached him slowly, moving to stand between his legs as you took his face in your warm hands, tilting it to look at you. He had a strained, puzzled expression on his face as his eyes drank you in before his hands came to rest on your waist.

"Babe—" you started.

"—I love you" he said.

Your heart somersaulted over the words you'd never heard him say before as you let out a small breath, your hand moving to cover your mouth in shock as your eyes widened.

"I'm-I'm a fucking wreck for you" he continued, laughing humorlessly as he shook his head. "Today... really fucked me up. I thought I'd lost you, I thought..." he paused, getting quiet "...The way you looked down there, alone, miles under the water, surrounded by all sorts of shit" he shook his head harder like he could unlive the memory of it all.

"I should have told you sooner, because I've known for awhile, for a long fucking time, but I've been too scared to say it, too scared that you don't remotely feel the same way, but that doesn't matter anymore, nothing fucking matters other than you hearing me say it, today, every day, I love you, YN." His eyes met yours finally, wide and sincere. "With everything I've got, I love you."

"I love you too!—" you whispered, and the words were barely out of your mouth before he pressed his cold lips to yours, pulling you into him so tightly you let out an involuntary squeak as your arms moved to wrap around his neck and he fell backwards onto his bed, continuing to mumble against your lips "Iloveyou, loveyou, I loveyou", smushing your kisses with his affectionate words until you were laughing with joy, the sound finally reassuring him that you were his, and that you were okay.

♡

@kenjikishimotoswifey, @mattiesgf, @sleepiibunniiii, @darlingshecried, @girlblogging777, @foivetimesacharm, @clar2aa, @broadwaybaby123, @slytherinscreamqueen

[lanabuckybarnes]

Winter’s Girl

18+ Minors DNI

(I do not own any photos, credits to original owners)

Could you imagine being a scientist on the winter soldier program, your task is to make sure he’s at 100% before every mission. This time though, when you enter his holding cell he’s nowhere to be found.

Note: I HIT 300 FOLLOWERS; thank you guys so much I love you all xxxx

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: Translated Russian because I’m stupid and know one language, Jealous Soldat, use of the word Puppy/Pup as a petname, a lil Biting, Hair pulling, Spanking, Spitting, The Winter Soldier (he’s a warning), Creampie, He’s a little sweet at the end but there isn’t much aftercare— as always if I’ve missed anymore let me know!

Word Count: 1.2k (of porn with no plot)

You gaze flicks around the room, a little panic stricken but who wouldn’t be when a 6ft something assassin had seemingly disappeared from his cell.

The fear bubbling in your belly only triples when you face the long broken mirror that sat just above the sink, behind you his cerulean gaze was undeniable. His hands reach out, the cool metal one wrapping itself around the bottom of your face, muffling any protests, while the other gripped your hip with bruising fingers and pushed you forward till your pubis and upper thighs knocked against the sink.

Your hands fall on instinct to the cold metal as your fingers grip at the surface, when you flick your gaze up to the mirror you can see that what swims in his own orbs isn’t anger or the usual killer instinct, no— the Winter soldier looks at you with lust.

“красотка” (pretty) He whispers hoarsely against your neck, hot pants of air from his mouth coating your throat like paint. His teeth nip right at your pulse point before his warm tongue smooths over the mark.

When you jerk, his grip tightens, “don’t move” He stares at you pointedly through the mirror before both his hands retreat from your frame.

You vaguely register the soft sound of fabric hitting the cold floor before he swipes your own clothes from your body, the harsh air was harsh; it almost felt like dipping your body into a bath filled with ice.

He groans, loud and throaty as his eyes bore into your ass and panties. Despite the cool atmosphere of the cell you feel everywhere burning with a primal want. You wanted this, you had since the first time you worked with the Soldier. He smelled the way you slicked up at the sight of him in nothing but his briefs, blood dripping from his nose, a musky scent radiating from him that had you desperately soaked. He wanted this too, he needed the release and the best kind of toy was one that was willing.

You felt his fat tip press against your hole, pushing in and out softly over the thin lace before it slipped to stimulate your hard little nub. The strong grip on your hip was back, anchoring your feet in their exact spot.

“You need this?” He kissed sloppily up your spine, It sounded more like a statement than a question but you nodded all the same.

He worked quick after your confirmation. Your panties were pulled to the floor by their soaked gusset and two of his chubby metal fingers speared you, pulling a delightful sounded moan that the Soldier was desperate to hear more of.

They worked methodically, pushing in and curling out, your legs shook at every time the cool pads bumped over each pleasure filled rib.

Once he deemed you ready enough, his fingers slipped from your tight hole to jerk at his thick length, coating himself in your essence. He so desperately wanted to taste you but his cock was crying out for attention, he’d get his fill next time.

“F-fuck” you moaned loudly as he pushed in, all semblance of decency thrown out the window at the feeling of his fat cock stretching you, there was a burn from ill prep but with the size of him you weren’t sure there would be a way to prep. You were thankful that he let up for just a bit so your insides could mould to accommodate him.

When he started thrusting his pace was brutal, his meaty thighs slapping against your own, the sound mixing with the squelching push and pull of his cock along your fluttering folds. You’d thank his super soldier serum later for his constant pounding pace but right now you could think of nothing but him.

“Bucky!” you squealed as his cool digits flicked meticulously across your sensitive clit, your fingernails scraped mindlessly at the shiny plates of his forearm. He growled possessively at the slip of the name, his right hand fisting clumps of your hair to angle your head up to watch you both in the mirror.

“Does Bucky fuck you like this? Mm?” Jealousy dripped from his words as his metal hand smacked your rear hard before gripping the reddened flesh to cool the area.

You couldn’t think, you watched as your thighs jumped at each pound of his hips, the way your mouth had sat slack ever since he shoved his length into you, drool poured from your lips but you didn’t care— you couldn’t care— not with how cock drunk you were.

He smacked your ass again, this time when he gripped the flesh he pulled your cheek to the side, parting your ass before launching a fat glob of spit that ran from your tight little asshole to the spot where you two joined.

“I asked you a fucking question!” He pushed forward, teeth finding the lobe of your ear and biting down, the action pulling a squeaked moan from your swollen mouth.

“No-no he can’t, he can’t… please Soldier I’m so close” You wailed, one of your own hands travelling down to play with your neglected clit. The soft touch of your fingers had you jerking back to meet him.

“Mmm, Отчаянный щенок (desperate puppy)… you cum when I say you can” he was panting now, hips hammering into you at a slightly sloppier pace; It wouldn’t be long until he found his own release as well.

He moaned loudly, he had no control over his own body now, driven only by decades of primal unsatisfied lust. He thrust harder if it were possible, his wild blue eyes glaring at your fucked out face through the cracks in the mirror.

“You ready pup?” he asked between loud groans.

“Mmm, so ready солдат (soldier)” you slurred, your head hung loosely between your shoulders when his hand slipped down your spine, you’d lost all energy to hold it up ages ago— you’d been relying solely on the tight grip he had on your hair.

“Augh, shit” he growled almost animalistic through clenched teeth, his damp forehead settling on the silky skin stretched over your shoulder blades. He thrust deeply one last time.

“Cum angel…cum…cum on me” the words fell from his mouth along with slurs of broken Russian as he painted your walls white, his cock twitched against your vice grip as you silently screamed at your own release.

You hadn’t the faintest clue how long you two basked in the after glow of whatever you had just done, your mind only coming back to you when you felt his softening length pull from your aching heat. The feeling of your mixed juices slipping from your hole had you almost coming for a second time, especially when you felt his cold fingers drag up the mess it made in your thigh before he pushed it back into your core.

His arms lifted you up with him as he backed up until he sat on a rickety cot in the corner of the room. You had no idea if it would hold both your weights but it was the last thought to cross your mind when his thick arms wrapped around your waist, his flesh fingers rubbing soothing circles over your hip bone. He kissed you, tenderly, before flopping his head onto the almost flat pillow.

You were almost asleep when you heard the deep rumble of his voice behind you. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

-

I have an insatiable appetite for jealous Bucky.

I also desperately needed to write something for the world’s favourite Soldat because I would not sleep peacefully tonight thinking of this and not sharing.

Hope you enjoyed x

[luludeluluramblings]

The Wedding Planner (Blurb)

Neglected!Reader ends up planning Bruce and Selina's wedding. The wedding goes great. Reader's life does not.

GN!Reader

You should've know being a Wayne would come back to bite you in the ass. Even though you had chosen to remain ignorant to the comings and goings of the family since you had moved out, for your own peace of mind of course. It had still managed to come back and take a massive bite out of your ass.

When you had moved out of the manor and started trying to make it on your own you luckily had some wealthy and non-wealthy friends. Friends that were more than happy to let you couch surf. Or, guest room surf in some cases. Your big break came when one of those dear friends had asked you to plan their wedding. You had accepted graciously, happy to help and wanting to thank them for all they had done.

It was stressful and eventful. There were tears, a little bit of blood, a shit ton of lace, and a mountain of flowers. But, God, was it satisfying. Watching your own plan coming together. The way you had prepare for everything that could have possibly gone wrong on such an important day. The tide pens, the red wine, the back up camera for the photographer. You had tamed the volatile chaos into a gorgeous and memorable symphony.

After that, you had found your calling. It wasn't anything heroic or noble. But, it was human and all you. And, you were damn good. It wasn't long until you had built a reputation of planning The best wedding in Gotham on any sort of budget. And, all the while, that forever distant family of yours left you the fuck alone. In fact, they had forgotten all about your existence. Which you didn't exactly mind. Avoiding the bat-shit, you called it.

Still, it came back to haunt you, eventually. Things rarely stay dead in Gotham it seemed. To bad you weren't in the business of planning funerals or your might have known that.

It all started when you took on a prestigious client that made you sign NDA after NDA before the first meeting. (Your first hint.) One of Gotham's richest and wealthiest your newly hired secretary had told you. (Your second hint.) You meet with the fiancé of this wealthy individual. A lovely and vivacious woman of sharp taste and wit by the name of Selina Kyle. Who had told you her future spouse was quite the sweetheart despite his serious demeanor. (Final hint, your out.)

Imagine your surprise when your own father comes striding into your office giving your client a kiss before turning to face you. In a way you felt proud of how you could easily read the shock on Bruce Wayne's face even after years of never speaking to him. When you plaster on a professional smile - having perfected the professional persona over your years apart - and hold out your hand for him to shake, it fills you with satisfaction to watch him falter. You damn near giggle when you go over the guest list and notice your name nowhere on it. You saw the way Ms. Kyle shot him suspicious looks at how shaken he seemed at meeting you.

You'd have paid to be a fly on the wall when she finally confronted him about it after they left the meeting. You'd still pay to be a fly now. Because if you were going to be trapped in a web, you'd rather be trapped in one that would kill you quick. Not in this web that was bound to slowly choke you and move your limbs like some macabre puppet.

Suddenly, after that fateful meeting, the family that had long forgotten you it now trying to burrow their way into the life you have built for yourself. And, they don't care how many holes they leave in it. As long as they had the pieces of you in their own lives, nothing else mattered.

Not like you didn't break your heart years ago trying to give them those same pieces they’re now tearing you apart for. Only for them to have been tossed aside until you picked them back up and finally moved on.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sooooooo, I know I haven't posted much, but I ended up coming up with a few other Reader concepts and they have taken up most of my headspace. But, this was an idea based of of Smalltown!Reader. (The oc Smalltown!Reader is based off of always ends up a wedding planner as a back up plan.) Which I have the rough draft of Part 8 written for. I swear it's coming.

A/N: I should also start cleaning out my ask box. And, my drafts. (Been throwing things in there for later.)

A/N: I feel like I should expand on this at some point. Might be something to consider.

[mayasaurusss]

hey how are you? could you write jinx x reader? something like jinx taking the reader's virginity. thanks ❤️🫰🏻

My favorite piltie

A/N: Hello! I am okay anon, thanks for asking! Just a bit sad that tomorrow Arcane will end😭.

I want to make it clear that I tried to do this before the next act drops, so I wrote it in two days and some things might not be very good, but I hope you will enojiy it nonetheless!!

Contains: female reader, detailed description of a wound, smut. All characters are 20+ years.

2,8 K/4 pages

When Jinx came knocking at your door tonight, you didn't think you'd end up in this position: her hands gripping at the skin of your chest and with her head buried in it.

The beginning of your night had kicked off with a strange twist when you heard a knock on your fifth floor appartment's window. You gulped down your fear and with a fast beating heart, looked past the window's glass to see a crouching figure with bright pink eyes staring at you. Any other occasion and you would have died on the spot, but you knew who she was. As soon as you opened the window, the figure let herself in, crawling out of the darkness and into the light of your room. "You are so nice letting me in, piltie" she said, and you don't miss the venom laced in the last word she spoke. "Your people aren't really known to be kind" her long fingers mess with the many little trinkets displayed on your shelves, checking their mechanisms and turning their gears.

"What do you want, Jinx?" you can feel a tingling sense of anger inside your skull at her continuous teasings.

You still remember the first time you had seen her, running from enforcers and covering her wounded shoulder.

You knew how ruthless they could be, especially since Miss Kirramman had taken control over the city. In a strange turn of events, you had found her curled up in one of Piltover's abandoned alleys and brought her with you to your home, taking care of her for the next few days until you found your window open and the blue haired criminal nowhere to be seen. During that time, you grew fond of her and were sad when she disappeared. Some weeks had passed and your life continued to flow normally, until she showed up at your door again. You were actually kind of amazed by the fact that she managed to sneak inside the appartment's building without being noticed, but after the third time, when someone called the enforcers on her, she had begun to climb on the building's exterior and knock at your window instead.

"Oh nothing, just wanted to pay a visit to my favorite piltie" she falls back on your bed, sizing you up from head to toe with that smirk of hers that makes your heart beat faster. "That's all?" the mattress dips under your weight as you sit next to her, always keeping your eyes on hers. "Mhmm, maybe" she fishes something from a bag -one you've just noticed- and shakes it: a small glass globe filled with water and fake flakes of snow. The tallest buildings of Piltover reflect the warm lights of your room, making the city of progress look ethereal under the glass. But it wasn't the shiny buildings or the snowflakes that got your attention, but a small name made with metal and gear parts glued to the bottom of the globe. "No way...is this a real Valdiani?!" the shock in your voice makes Jinx's heart flutter, something that she has never experienced before.

She lets out a proud snuff of air from her nose, pushing her chest outwards, "Consider it a gift for my fav- shit!" the sudden swear catches your attention and you look over to see Jinx doubled over. "Jinx! What is going on?!" It's faint, but you can see her hands wrapped tightly around her left side, traces of blood seeping from between her fingers. "Oh shit! Jinx what happened?" she lets out a breathless chuckle, her skin suddenly far paler than normally. "Hah, just some gift the bluebellies have given me" she sucks in a breath when you move her hands, biting a scream away. A deep wound runs along her side, pus forming where her skin had been pulled back from the slash, bleeding red on your covers. You run outside of your room and collect gauze, antiseptic, healing creme and a glass of water.

"Here, bite this" you hand her an old cloth, which she promptly places in between her teeth. "Ready?" she nods, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. The heat of your hand is the only thing that brings her comfort. She isn't ready though when you pour the liquid over her wound: it feels like billions of needles stinging and burning her flesh, making her want to vomit.

"There there, it's over..." you quickly dry her skin and massage the healing cream on her, finally finishing when you cover her stomach with the gauze. She releases a huff of relief, mindlessly tangling her fingers with yours. When the pain subsides, she realizes how close the two of you are. You on your knees, her panting and sweating, how close you are to her and how fast her heart is beating. It would take a second, just a second for her to reach for your lips and melt into you...

"Uh... I- uh, just-, what happened?" you try to not sound too shy but your voice gives your feelings away. "I..." Jinx's throat bobs and it seems that she'd rather curl herself up like a hedgehog than admitting whatever she did. "You know, the usual. Went on a walk, stormed a shop, stole some things, got the enforcers called on me and..." she gestures towards her side, "...this happened".

Jinx isn't clear with her words, but something about the blush on her skin hints at the fact that there may be something else underneath her facade. You might try at least, right? Reaching for the glass globe, you twirl it in your hands, watching the snowflakes fall on Piltover. "Jinx...did you get chased after stealing this?", she doesn't answer, but her shy silence is enough for you.

"Why? Why do this for me?" she pouts her lips before answering, still held back by some sort of pride. "W-what can I say? Anything for my favorite piltie...".

A heavy silence fills the room, of the kind that is difficult to bear.

You can't believe it. You just can't believe that she'd be so reckless, so stupid! It's difficult to bite your anger back, but you do so, and instead of crying or screaming or scolding her, like Jinx thought you were going to do, you just hug her tightly against your chest. Your grip is so strong against her that she feels like she'll choke on it.

But you are so warm in comparison to her body, so, so warm. For the first time in a while, after Silco's death, after Vi's betrayal, after everything went to shit, she feels like she can breathe. And so she does, inhaling your scent in between, tasting it on her tongue. When you pull back, Jinx's eyelids are heavy with want, her mouth slightly open and her skin red.

It takes a second for her lips to push against yours, for her hands to come up and grab your face and pull you down towards her. The kiss is surprisingly tender for it to be Jinx's: you expected teeth and tongue, not pecks and soft touches. The way she sighs and runs her hands on your chest has you keening for her. "Jinx..." a small line of spit connects your lips, and before you can say anything else, she wipes it off on your bottom lip and sighs, "You know what piltie? I think I deserve something too".

Blinking at her a couple of times, she groans at your naivety and continues while taking your cheeks in her hand. "It has been a hard day for me: running from enforcers, bleeding all the way here... I think I deserve a gift too".

And that's where you are now, naked from the waist up with Jinx on your lap, diligently taking what's hers. The way her tongue teases your nipple is something to die for. It seems all her softness has died with the kiss you shared before, now tugging and biting every part of you. You gasp as she bites your nipple, leaving the indents of her teeth on the delicate skin.

"If I knew I could see you all shy and fidgety-" she tugs your left nipple with her long fingers, smiling cruelly when tearing a gasp from you, "...I would have done this earlier". Her lips leave your right nipple, spit chilling the skin, before she teases both of them with the point of her fingernails, moving and tickling them.

Jinx lets out one of those cruel laughs of hers before diving right back on your nipple, giving it one last kiss and moving towards your stomach. She kisses and strokes every one of your scars, every mole or freckle, every inch of skin, until she comes across the hem of your pants. "N-No wait, Jinx..." you place your hand on her forehead, strands of blue hair falling in between your fingers. She halts immediatley at your discomforted voice, billions of little alarms going off in her head and an attentive yet scared look in her eyes. "What is it?".

"I... I have to tell you something" and with that, her heart beats faster and faster and that obnoxious voice inside her head speaks; 'You've hurt her' and 'Look at what you've done' and 'Did you really think she would genuinely like you?'. But your voice is stronger than theirs. "Hey? Is everything alright? We don't have to do this" in the meantime, your hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking at the pale skin. "Yeah I- I am okay. And I want to" her own fingers close in on you and she takes a moment to breathe. Your own warmth is one of the only things that can make her calm. When the voices blur away and only you and her are left, she opens her eyes again, your reflection sharp inside their pink. "What do you have to tell me?" now it was your time to take a breath, because knowing Jinx, she could have two reactions over your news: making fun of you or absolutely losing her shit. "I... I am a virgin".

She takes a moment to process the information and then lets out a wheezing laugh, making blood rise quickly to your face. "That's it?! I thought I accidentally hurt you or something!". The only thing you can do at this point is pout and look away offended. "Oh come on toots" her hands take a hold of your face before turning you to her, who is smiling softly and with tenderness. "I am just kidding. Don't be so moody. And besides..." she captures your lips, biting and licking and sucking until they darken, leaving a faint trace of blood where her teeth were, "...It's so fucking hot".

The descent to get to her prize is tedious and long, but Jinx can't help but want to savor each one of its steps. Her fingers finally hook on the hem of your pants and pull down, revealing your naked thighs to her; the only thing stopping her from claiming her prize is the fabric of your underwear. "Wait a second..." despite how cute you look to her, Jinx rolls her eyes at yet another one of your attempts to stop her. "What, toots? You don't want me to fuck you?" your eyes widen when she so bluntly says that, without an ounce of embarrassment on her face, but continue. "What?! N-no I want to....it's just that..." you eye Jinx's position on the floor. "The wound might be painful if you crouch... I don't want you to hurt yourself".

"So, what do you want me to do?". You look back between Jinx and the plush, comfortable bed, a lightbulb popping off on your head. "Lie on the bed", you say, making Jinx blink a few times before processing and understanding your intentions. "Ohh, I didn't take you for the kinky type, toots". She crawls over the bed, making sure to look as alluring as possible, then lies down with her head pressed on one of your pillows. "There. Do you like this more?" the way that she's so smug about it, with that stupid smirk of hers, makes you want to choke her to death.

"Shut the fuck up", you follow her, placing yourself on each side of her head, feeling her hands rise on your tighs to curl on the soft fabric she so wishes were to disappear. "Hmhm, alright" she eyes the patch of cloth that has begun to show a wet stain, images of what she is going to do to you already flashing in her mind. But this position prevents her from sliding them off without you having to move away from her, and she'd rather keep you and your pussy here. "You know, as much as I love how cute you look with these..." you only have a brief moment to see a malicious glint in her eyes, before she tears your underwear apart, leaving you naked in front of her "I'd much rather have you bare". "Jinx! I just told you to shut up!" it doesn't help that she doesn't mind you and whistles loudly, making you feel more and more embarrassed. "And I -shut up!-. And-and those were expensive! Do you know how-!" but all your words die in your throat when she, with a strength you didn't know she had, pulls you flat against her mouth.

She licks your clit like a starved woman, like it will be the last meal she'll ever have. She doesn't dive right in your pussy, instead takes her sweet time to torture you, making you wish she'd just fuck you already. "Jinx...please, I-" she opens her eyes to see you above her, naked and panting with pleasure, something she only ever dreamt of seeing.

She can't say no to her favorite piltie. Her cold hands grab your ass, propping you up in a new angle on her face so you can't move, but she can do everything she wants to. She spends the next minutes milking your pleasure out of you, before pushing one finger slowly inside of you. You gasp in pain at first, a small trickle of blood wetting your skin and her fingers, and after a few minutes, feeling need arise from the depths of your guts. Jinx's eyes widen when she first feels you move atop her fingers, riding them messily; and she already has a new idea. "No, none of that toots" with her left hand, she yanks your hips down on her fingers, preventing you from moving further. Her next words feel like ice cold water on naked skin; "I won't make you cum if you do it again" and as if that wasn't bad enough, she emphasizes her point with a trust of her fingers. "You will be a good girl, won't you?".

"Yes, yes, yes I will be a good girl..." her smile is all you see before she disappears underneath your thighs. As soon as you get used to the alien feeling of her fingers inside of you, her pace is unrelenting; fast and hard, torturing your clit with her lips. She takes your hips and places your slit directly onto her tongue, forcing you to grind down on it. When you start to wheeze from her touches, she decides to move onto the next phase of her plan. "Hey baby, get up a sec" you would rather keep on grinding on her tongue, but comply anyway. You get up, putting ditance between your slit and her mouth, but while you do, she directly shoves in her fingers, making your legs almost give out. With her other hand she pushes you until your ass is flat against her lap. "Come on, bounce" you don't let her repeat herself twice, already fucking yourself on her fingers at the best of your abilities. What she's seeing is far better than anything she could have ever dreamt of: her favorite piltie bouncing up and down her fingers, eyes heavy and panting above her. And your movements on her own crotch only make her feel more and more euphoric. Oh, if only she could feel you... When she curls her finger on that spot that has you keening, you finally come undone; finger intertwined, billions of stars exploding beneath your eyelids and electricity coursing through your veins. You collapse on her, skin against skin, puffing and gasping for each breath. Your whines reach Jinx's ears and right now, she wants nothing more than to tear orgasms upon orgasms from you, but she'll have to wait.

You roll over, taking a place near her on the bed, shivering from the intensity of your first time. And when Jinx, with a horrifyingly both sweet and sadistic smile turns to you, excitement clear on her face, your pussy clenches around nothing and your blood turns to ice. "So, wanna go again?"

[ctrlhope]

Butterfly (m)

synopsis: he’s been watching you. waiting, stalking his prey. waiting for you to tangle your pretty little wings into his web. chasing you. hunting you. making you play his games until you realise the truth that lies behind your eyes.

j.jungkook x f.reader

୧ ‧₊˚┊: wc: 3.6k

୧ ‧₊˚┊: genre: yandere, serial killer au, college au, dark content

୧ ‧₊˚┊: content: yandere!killer!jk, dubcon, predator / prey, manipulation, fear play, mask kink, slight sub space, slight knife play, strangers to lovers, “public” sex, drug use (alcohol), mentions of blood / injury, threats, allusions to kidnapping, dom!jk, fingering, rough sex, he’s mean but still sweet, obsessed!soft!jk at the end <33

୧ ‧₊˚┊: notes: found this in my drafts back from halloween and i never posted it! so here you go, to hold you over until my long fics are done <33 halloween fic in april lmaooo

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content

Bum. Bum. Bum.

Your heartbeat is in your ears, pulse racing. It was too loud. Everything is too loud. It’s all you can hear. It’s all you can think about as your heels dig into the harsh forest floor. Your shoes long since been abandoned, mud caking your feet as you try to run. Tries to escape from the demon that had set his sights on you.

Him.

Fuck. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It really wasn’t. It was just supposed to be a fun halloween party! You didn’t really even know if you wanted to go to it or not. But your friends convinced you with the promise of free drinks and guys that were ‘cute enough’ for some random frat.

What they failed to mention? The simple fact that house was in the middle of nowhere. On one side a lake, the other a massive forest.

Like a pretty little trap meant to catch girls like you. Web tangled in the trees just watching for the prettiest butterfly to find its way into. To be caught in the den of monsters that lined every wall of the ancient house.

You were already disturbed when your friend's pretty jeep turned off the main roads, trailing through the woods. Realising just how distant from the rest of society you would be. How every bump of the car sent your little heart into a deeper flutter of anxiety.

Still, you kept your mouth shut. You didn’t want to ruin the night— for yourself or your friends. You trust them. They promised it would be fun. Plus! Their boyfriends were going to be there! So nothing would go wrong!

Yeah. It really wasn't their fault that a lunatic set his sights on you. Wasn’t their fault you started dancing with a man in a mask. Let him lead you to the backyard for a smoke, dumbly followed him deeper into the woods to see his favourite spot. Let him stuff his fingers into your little hole without even seeing his face, knowing his name.

Nah, you did all that on your own. Just a little kitten being led to the slaughter house.

“Okay babydoll…” He breathes into your ear, pumping two fingers deep inside of your cunt. Skirt that was barely covering anything pushed too far up your hips, showing the whole forest just how tight your walls cling to his fingers. How wet you are. How desperate you are for more.

“We’re gonna play a game, yeah?” You’re hardly able to respond, consciousness laced with toxins from earlier that night. Flush to your cheeks evidence enough of just how much you drank— the series of events that led you to this exact moment.

One he had been planning for awhile.

He smiles, throat letting out a low, almost nonexistent laugh. Slowly circling your clit with his thumb, almost mocking the way your back arches. Finding amusement in the way your fingers cling to his arm as his thrusts continue all to slow.

You’re needy, too needy. He knows that well enough. Can tell with the way your hips start to rock, start to squirm. The way your body starts to get bratty on him while your mind is too far in the clouds to realise the position you’ve found yourself in.

You’re cute. Too cute for him to take another second of this. Too cute for him to hold back anymore.

Wouldn’t want you getting too bratty on him anyway, would he? Then his personal treat, the slice of cake he's been waiting weeks to cut into will have to turn into a punishment. Ruin all the fun he’s worked so hard to prepare.

“‘Gonna need you to run into the woods. Fast and as far as you can…” He groans under his breath, the mere thought sending blood straight to his cock, filling his mind with nothing but pictures of you dirty on the forest floor, “And you gotta do your best to stay away from me yeah? Cause if I catch you… I gotta kill you and I wouldn't wanna have to do that… You’re too pretty to kill, you know?”

Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with him? What is he even talking about?

You try to process– try to understand the words that run off his tongue. But it's unfair, everything is stacked against you as he slides the mask off his face. Gives you a first look at his deep brown eyes. Lets you see how gorgeous he is for the very first time.

He didn’t even give you a chance to recover before he started counting down from 30. Doesn’t even move his hand away from your dripping cunt until 20– the expression on your face just pathetic. So close yet so far from the finish line.

Your race was nowhere close to its end. He’d make sure of it.

It wasn’t until his hand found your hip, gently tapping against the skin that your brain even had the chance to attempt processing his words. Figure out the exact meaning behind them while his lips continued to count down with each syllable.

Such pretty pink lips. Maybe he would let you kiss them if you tried hard enough. If you lean up just right maybe he would–

Wait. Wait. What’s happening? What did he say to you?

Your eyes glance down to your thighs, vision dazed as you try to figure out the object that suddenly pokes at your flesh. The sharp tip grazing your soft skin as you take in the metal; polished to perfection. The deep black handle resting securely in his palm, holding himself back.

Your eyes widen, familiarity cresting your features.

Shit. Shit!

You don’t even think about grabbing your own knife until 15, hand quickly reaching for your hip where you keep it tucked away. Too bad he had already taken it, knew the tool you always carried with you well.

Shit, his own personal little Nancy, huh? Perfect for him.

Survival instincts had to take over for you, forcing your feet to the ground. Urging your skirt down as low as it could possibly go as your legs take off in a direction you hope is the house.

Everything is all too much, it’s not enough. Every little sound is getting to you, making you feel like you’re going crazy. Making you feel like none of your senses can be trusted. Like nothing can be trusted except for the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The woods– everything looks the same. You can't distinguish one thing from the next but you know you hear something getting closer. Too close.

If his words meant anything you need to keep fighting, keep trying to live. Even as pain stabs into your toes, sticks break under your feet. Even as you’re stabbed by bushes.

It was like the forest itself was out to get you. Like whatever beast behind it is your real enemy in all of this.

Maybe you can pretend it, maybe in your alcohol-addled brain that’s a little easier to manage than the man running behind you. The one with hunger in his heart that only your soul can satiate.

You try, you really do. But your legs can only move so fast. Can only take so much abuse before they start to slow. Lungs can only inhale so much air before they want to collapse.

Too bad he’s done this before. He can run.

And just as you start to be able to see the lights from the tree line, just as hope starts to fill your little heart, you’re forced into the dirt. Two arms wrap around you from behind, tackling your frame to the ground.

Your back presses against his chest as he keeps you there, his face right next to your ear as he pants. Breathe heavy in your ear, hearing the way it cracks every once and awhile as he tries to catch his breath. Lips almost on your ear while he keeps you there. Keeps you trapped under him.

Everything is starting to conflict in your pretty little head, body telling you to get away. Try to get him off. Wriggle your hand— anything out to try and fight back. Try and get away before he keeps his promise from before.

Yet, with every movement, every slight twist of your spine or kick of your legs under his heavy frame he only presses tighter, deeper against you. Presses his cock against your barely covered cunt. Makes you feel every inch of him that he plans to stuff inside. Make you unable to breathe while the rocks dig into your skin.

You put up a good fight, you really do. Better than anyone else. It’s too bad everything is going just a little bit haywire behind your eyes. The world starting to feel like a burden as you try to push away the arousal rushing to your gut.

Shit, you should be scared. Should be petrified of the psycho that took you into the woods, the psycho that threatened to kill you no more than ten minutes before. One that had a knife pressed to your skin and a scythe around your heart. But the chemicals in your brain are mixing into something that you can’t comprehend, can’t describe.

Everything feels like too much, he feels like too much and you have no clue what to do. Head completely gone to mush.

It’s almost easier that way.

“Almost got away, doll. But don’t worry. I’ve got you now.” His voice is rough, harsh as he tries to catch his breath. Teeth clamping against the crest of your ear, hips rolling against your cunt without a care in the world. Especially not for the state of your head. Not for the little world you find yourself slipping away into.

Too many extreme emotions happening will do that to you, won't they? Make you so confused that you’ll just take whatever you can manage. Even if that means plunging his blade into your pretty little heart or fucking you until your pussy wouldn’t even consider another filling it.

He prefers the latter. Too pretty for the former, huh?

He can feel the shift in your frame– one of extreme discomfort, entirely tense to one of a docile little pet put on display. The shift behind your eyes as everything becomes too much, little too difficult to understand. As you slip away just enough to make any feelings of pleasure elevate to new extremes. Let fear spur you on.

The only thoughts in your head are ones filled with him. The way it should be. Exactly should be.

Your hips move again, their last attempt to break free from his spell. Their last attempt to try and get away from the maniac. Yet it does nothing more than press his cock harder against your ass, the mock of a grind against the surface that leaves a pretty little mewl spilling from your lips. A grunt catching in his own.

Wow, you actually surprised him.

“Shit, not patient at all huh?” He smiles, lip quirking as he removes his body from you. Removes the only warmth provided in this hell.

You won't run. Not if you know what's good for you.

He doubts you do– led you right into his arms tonight. But that's okay. He can take over for you. Take over everything.

Hands grip your hips, pull you back against him. Let you imagine how sweet he could fuck you if you just behave. The soft rocking of hips against your own, the gentle way he moves compared to the way he holds you heavy on your mind.

You can’t help the moan that spills past your lips. The way your back arches to meet him better. No one could blame poor little you. No one could blame your mind turning off for just a little bit. Not when he has you. Not with the rough texture of his pants pushing against your cunt. Not with the ruined orgasm of before.

Arousal makes your panties stick uncomfortable to your skin. A disturbing wet patch forming against his own pants where you meet. A flutter erupting in your gut at the way he groans. Way he moves you with such ease.

He really could kill you if he wanted to.

You’re not sure if the realisation scares you or spurs you on.

It scares you more to know that it's the latter.

“I’m not either.” He huffs, air thick with fog, “Been too patient for you. Too fucking patient.”

He grunts, pushing your hips back. Back arching even farther against the forest floor. It almost hurts, it’s almost painful. Not that that really matters. Nothing matters when he grips the flesh of your ass, pulls the cheeks apart. Gets a good look at the mess he’s made of you. Can see clearly how wrecked his little girl is.

Pretty panties sticking against your cunt, thighs wobbly from all the effort of tonight. Shit, if he just hooks his finger under them, pulls them to the side he’ll get to see you all. Get to see your puffy lips, fluttering little hole. Get to fuck himself inside while you just lie there and take it. Get so drunk on his cock you might just fall in love.

Shit, maybe you already have, huh?

Good.

He forces your underwear to the side, stares in awe at the way your slick sticks to them. Imagines how pretty they’d look stuffed with his cum. How you’d tumble around the house, not letting a drop spill just for him.

Because you would know it’s what he wants.

“All of this for me?” He smiles, rubbing his thumb through your folds. Collecting your essence, spreading it around all messy just how he likes. How he knows you’ll like soon enough.

You can only whimper, clutch the ground as your head spins. Tries to catch up with every little minstration he makes. Tries to figure out what exactly is happening. What words he’s saying. How to get him to stop, if you want him to stop.

A shiver runs down your spine. You don’t think you do.

You’re not sure of anything anymore. Only the sound of a zipper running down, the shuffle of pants forced off hips. The hard head of a cock running against your folds like it owns them. Like it was made for them.

The stretch as he forces himself inside. The way it burns, stings with effort. The short, forceful movements as he fucks himself inside. Makes home in your cunt for no one else but him. Makes you unable to think of a soul other than him. Ruin you for all other men that come after.

God he must be big– how fucking big? You have no clue. You wish you could see. Look into those pretty, crazed eyes. Focus on the little mole under his lip as the pain turns into pleasure. Morphs something dark in your brain to like it, to take it just like a good girl. Make you crave him more than anything else.

But instead you stare at the dirt. Hands clutching at the surface as he fucks himself inside. Deeper and deeper with each slow calculating thrust. Fucks you full of whatever twisted definition of love he possess. Makes you see the light, the exact shimmer in his eyes. See that this is the only way to truly live.

“Shit, baby,” His voice is low, deeper than before as his hips finally meet your own. Finally fills you with nothing else other than him. “Been waiting too fucking long for this. Had to make me wait, huh? Fuck.”

His voice harsh, grip bruising as he tries to hold himself back. One last measly reprise he’ll allow you. One last second he’ll give you before he makes you completely dumb. Makes you see what he knows you need to.

“I-I don’t~” You whimper, though the words fall on deaf ears. Not that it mattered anyway, you didn’t even know what you were trying to say. Didn’t know anything except for the way your walls clamp around his cock. Body begging for him, urging him to start and never stop.

He sighs, dramatic, “Little slut, huh baby?”

A harsh thrust punctuates his words, jolting your body forward as you cry. Impatience, ecstasy? He isn’t sure which. Only can notice the way your fingers clench and unclench in the dirt. The way your pussy flutters around him.

“Aww…” He soothes, hips dragging out of your cunt before slowly thrusting back in. The pace slow, antagonising, “Poor thing is having a hard time…” His hips quicken a hair, pretty sounds falling from your lips at the movement.

“Gotta tell me what you need, baby. I can make it all happen then.” A low kiss is placed against your shoulder, the world crumbling around you.

You break.

“Please…” Your voice is soft, too soft, but he hears it. Feels himself cracking as you beg, feels himself lose his mind entirely.

Beg for him. Want him.

His hips suddenly snap, fucking himself into your cunt with force you never thought a human could possibly manage. Fast, hard. Pumping his cock into you to search for his own pleasure. His own release. Forcing you to take it, take all of him while you try to keep up. Try to find your own pleasure in the tangle of limbs.

You hate how easily you do. Or maybe you love it.

“God, fuck.” He can’t suppress his own moans, the feeling of your pussy wrapping so tight around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth is too much. Fills his head with even more nonsense about love. About destiny.

His hips would never even consider stopping. You feel too good. Feel too tight around his cock, feel like he should never stop fucking you. Keep you there forever.

“So perfect. So perfect for me,” His breath is harsh, his heart racing as your little sounds only spur him on. Let him know just how good you feel. Just how far you’ve fallen. Just how much farther you’re willing to drown in all things Jungkook.

“P-Please!” You whine, hips arching further. Moving him into the perfect position to scrape against your g-spot with every rough pound of his hips. No clue what you’re pleading for. No clue what you want other than him.

Don’t even know his name. Nothing other than how incessantly you crave him.

“Fucking brat.” He cusses, eyes pinching into a glare as you somehow clamp down tighter. Walls pulling him back in on every thrust. Milking him for everything he’s worth. Making sure you both know your place in this. Know your place after it, too.

“God, been waiting for this haven’t you?” He groans, hips stuttering. He’s too close, “Been waiting for me to fuck you like the pretty doll you are? Make me take everything from you?”

You can only manage a whine in response, cunt fluttering around him. Obsessing in his praise.

Maybe his words are true. Maybe he’s known the exact type of person you are since the moment he first saw you. Maybe he’s right. This is where you’re meant to be. Meant to be with him.

“Shit, yeah. I fucking knew it.” His voice cracks, “Call you a minx but we both know that isn’t true. Just don’t know how to think until you’re stuck on the end of a cock.”

His thrusts somehow pick up speed. Fuck you harder, deeper. He’s sure he could place his hand over your tummy, feel himself fucking you. Shit.

“My cock.” He growls, voice heavy in your ears.

You can't take it anymore. Can’t take another second of it. Nerves tied tight into knots explode, white dotting the corner of your vision as you moan for no one else other than him. Pleasure courses through your veins, pussy pulling him as he falls apart alongside you. A tsunami pulling you under, making it hard to breathe. Making you feel dead and alive at the same time.

Maybe the forest gods were the ones tormenting you. Making you feel better than you had ever thought possible before. Allowing you to see the light of the stars dancing in the sky, so far above the clouds with his cock still pressed so deep inside. Floating through the air as your orgasm runs through you.

He’s no better. A shell of a man as he slowly fucks him cum deeper into your cunt. As deep as you’ll allow. Marking you. Claiming you. Making sure you know your place, even as you finally collapse onto the floor. Finally come back to reality. Poor body too spent to focus on anything else.

It’s okay though, you don’t have to worry. Not about a thing.

He’ll take care of you. Fix you up nice and pretty for your next lesson. Take you away to his apartment, make you fall in love for real. Keep you there, with him, just like you’re meant to be.

Make all of the sick sides you try to hide come out to play. Make you realise you’re just like him.

He wouldn’t kill you. Ever. Even if he had killed the others, none of them matter. He’s been waiting for someone like you for so long. Itching to bring you home. And finally, finally you had fallen into his trap. His perfect little butterfly, caught in the web. Ready to be corrupted by the vicious spider. Ready for your wings to be clipped.

“Mine.”

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[chosok-amo]

WOMAN, YOU ARE NOT A GODDAMN SNOW WHITE : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU.

thunderstorm, and you are nowhere to be found. your boyfriends is worried sick, wondering your whereabouts, until you come home a fat raccoon.

warning. established relationship au, fluff, crack.

> m.list

the sound of the storm outside was deafening, rain pelting down against the windows in sheets, lightning flickering through the darkened living room. the atmosphere inside felt as tense as the weather outside. gojo was pacing relentlessly, his usually bright and relaxed demeanor clouded over with worry. every now and then, he would glance at his phone, checking for messages or missed calls. but there was nothing—no response, no sign of where you were.

geto sat on the edge of the couch, his head in his hands, frustration and anxiety etched across his usually calm face. he let out a heavy sigh, his fingers rubbing his temples as if trying to ease the headache that had been brewing since they’d realized you weren’t home. “she should’ve been back ages ago,” he muttered, his voice barely audible above the relentless rain. “she always lets us know where she is… this isn’t like her.”

“i know,” gojo replied, his voice unusually tense. he stopped pacing for a moment, gripping the back of the couch so hard his knuckles turned white. “she promised she’d be home before the rain started. she said she was on her way,” his tone cracked slightly, the worry seeping through.

another flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed closely by a rumble of thunder that shook the windows. gojo flinched, the uncharacteristic gesture revealing just how frayed his nerves were. “if only we’d left work sooner. we could’ve went home with her,” he muttered, more to himself than to geto.

the storm outside continued to pound against the windows, the relentless rain and booming thunder doing nothing to ease the growing tension in the room. gojo watched as geto tried calling you once again, his phone pressed tightly to his ear, his brow furrowing deeper with each passing second of silence.

when the call went straight to voicemail again, geto’s frustration hit a breaking point. “where the fuck are you?” he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with a sharp edge of worry and anger. his hand clenched around his phone before he threw it onto the couch with a frustrated sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

gojo halted his pacing and looked at geto, his own worry mirrored in his friend's expression. “it’s not like her to just go silent,” he said, a nervous energy in his voice that was so out of character for him. his usual confident, carefree attitude was completely gone, replaced by an anxiety that he couldn’t shake. “she always lets us know when she’s going somewhere or if she’s late.”

geto nodded, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his composure. “i know. and the fact that it’s her out there in this storm, alone…” he trailed off, unable to finish the thought. his hands fisted at his sides, the helplessness gnawing at him.

“satoru, do you think…” geto trailed off, the worst-case scenarios that had been racing through his mind too painful to put into words.

“don’t even go there, suguru,” gojo interrupted, his voice fierce, though his eyes betrayed the same fears. “she’s strong. she’s probably just waiting for the storm to calm down somewhere.”

his words were cut off by another flash of lightning and a clap of thunder that shook the house, causing both of them to stiffen momentarily. it was as if the storm outside was mirroring the turmoil inside, an added layer of anxiety in the already tense atmosphere.

geto took a deep, calming breath, trying to keep hold of his emotions. he straightened up and looked at gojo, determination in his eyes. “you’re right. she’s strong. she can handle herself. we can’t just sit here and worry ourselves sick.”

another loud crash of thunder shook the house, causing geto to flinch. he hated feeling this helpless, hated the tight knot of fear twisting in dis chest. he glanced at gojo, who was biting his thumb, lost in his thoughts. despite their differences, they were both on the same page now—both terrified of the possibility of losing you.

just then, they heard a faint noise—a car door slamming shut. both of them sprang to their feet, their hearts pounding in unison as they rushed to the window. through the heavy rain, they could make out your figure, drenched but alive, struggling to carry what looked like a a big box. relief washed over them, but it was quickly replaced by a mix of irritation and concern.

geto and gojo exchanged a glance, their expressions mirroring each other. “what the hell is she carrying?” geto muttered, his annoyance evident as he made his way toward the door.

gojo followed close behind. “and why the hell did she come home in this weather?”

they both stepped outside, the cold rain lashing at their faces, as they hurried towards your figure. their eyes narrowed, taking in the sight of you struggling with the heavy box in your arms.

geto reached you first, the rain soaking through his clothes as he approached. “are you insane?” his voice was sharp, laced with a mixture of relief and anger. “what the hell were you thinking coming home in this storm—and what is that?"”

gojo joined him, looking equally worried and frustrated. gojo caught up, his arms crossed as he took in the scene. “and what’s in the box? you better have a damn good explanation for all of this.” they grip your shoulder, pulling you into the house.

you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of both geto and gojo’s faces as they stood dripping wet, eyes wide in shock and mouths slightly agape. you adjusted the heavy box in your arms, a fucking fat raccoon inside peeking out with curious eyes. “look what i found!” you exclaimed excitedly, completely oblivious to the scratches on your face and the mud staining your clothes. “it was just wandering, isn’t it cute?”

the rain continued its relentless assault, soaking through geto and gojo's clothes and causing their hair to stick to their faces as they looked at you in disbelief. their initial relief was quickly replaced by a mixture of annoyance and worry, their brows furrowed as they took in your soaked appearance and the scratches on your face.

geto’s expression darkened, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at your face. “cute?” he sputtered incredulously. “you went out in this storm for a raccoon? you’re bleeding and muddy as hell!”

gojo, less composed, stared at you with a mix of shock and anger. “and didn’t you think to call or text us, genius? we’ve been going out of our minds worried!”

your smile faltered slightly as you looked down at your muddy shoes, realizing just how much trouble you might’ve caused. “i couldn’t just leave it there,” you mumbled, glancing up at them through your wet lashes. “it was all alone, and I thought… i thought i could bring it here until it’s safe to release it.”

geto ran a hand through his wet hair, exasperated. “did you even think about the possible danger? bringing a wild animal into our home—”

“not just any animal,” gojo interrupted, “a damn raccoon. it could have diseases, or rabies. jesus, you’re smarter than this—”

geto shot him a look, but gojo ignored it, his eyes fixated on you.

“and look at you,” gojo continued, his voice stern. “do you know how worried we were? how much trouble you could have gotten in? or, even worse, how dangerous it could have been?”

geto nodded in agreement, his arms crossed over his chest. “you’re not a little girl anymore, baby,” he added quietly. “you have to start thinking things through.”

you glanced back and forth between your two concerned boyfriends, feeling like a child caught doing something they knew was wrong. their genuine worry and concern were evident, but so was their frustration. the raccoon in the box seemed to sense the tension, letting out a small squeak as it shifted uncomfortably.

you took a step backward, clutching the box tightly, feeling the weight of the heavy creature inside. “i know it was reckless,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “i just... i didn’t think. i saw it and...” you trailed off, your gaze lowering.

geto let out a heavy sigh, the tension in his shoulders softening just a bit. gojo scrubbed a hand over his face, his anger slowly giving way to worry and relief.

geto crossed his arms again, a small frown still on his lips. “well, you thought wrong,” he said firmly. “there’s a reason we keep telling you not to do things like this.” a moment of silence passed before gojo cleared his throat. “where the hell did you find it, anyway?” he asked.

you looked up at them through your lashes, swallowing nervously as their combined stares bore into you. you knew they’d be upset—more than upset. biting your lip, you hesitated, the weight of their worry settling heavily on your shoulders.

in your arms, the raccoon blinked up at them with wide, innocent eyes, seemingly oblivious to the tension filling the room. you glanced down at the little creature, which gave a tiny squeak, as if in solidarity, and you almost felt braver because of it.

“where did you find it?” gojo repeated, his tone softer but his eyes still sharp.

you mumbled, “... at school,” barely loud enough for them to hear.

“at school?” geto repeated, his arms crossing even tighter as he took a step closer. his voice was calm, but you could sense the frustration simmering beneath it. “we told you to come home right after class. and instead, you went off chasing… a raccoon?”

“it was stranded and soaking wet in the woods,” you explained, clutching the raccoon a little tighter, trying to make your point. “it didn’t have anyone else.”

gojo stared down at you, his eyes flashing. “so you were out there by yourself, in the storm, all because of a wild animal that could have had a million diseases? or attacked you?” his fists tightened as he spoke, his concern evident in his tone.

geto’s jaw tightened, his frown deepening as he listened to your explanation. gojo’s expression was a mix of concern and anger, his eyes never leaving your face.

“and you decided that it was your responsibility to play hero and bring it home? do you have any idea what could have happened to you?” geto asked, his voice quiet but laced with concern.

geto watched you with a mix of worry and resignation. he understood your soft heart, your need to help and care for others, but the recklessness of your actions was weighing on him. “we’ve always told you not to just run off without telling us,” he said finally, his hands on his hips.

you felt yourself shrink under their intense stares, their frustration washing over you in waves. still, you couldn’t let go of the raccoon in your arms, the tiny creature nestled against you as if it understood your need for comfort.

“i… i couldn’t just leave it out there,” you mumbled, voice growing quieter with each word as their gazes bore into you. “what if it got hurt?”

you looked down at the raccoon, still struggling to hold the box with its fat body, your fingers gently stroking its damp fur, remembering how helpless it looked huddled outside in the storm. “it was like… like it was asking me to take it home,” you added in a small voice, hoping they’d understand.

gojo let out a frustrated huff, crossing his arms tightly. “woman, you’re not a goddamn snow white,” he shot back, his tone sharp. “you can’t just waltz around talking to animals, thinking they’ll magically be safe with you.” his words stung a little, but you knew his anger was coming from a place of deep concern.

you felt the sting of their words as you stood there, drenched and feeling smaller by the second. your excitement quickly dwindled, replaced by the heavy weight of guilt. you couldn’t bring yourself to meet their eyes, instead focusing on the raccoon in the box. it looked up at you with its big, confused eyes, almost like it was wondering why everyone was so upset.

gojo noticed your silence and the way your shoulders slumped forward, and a flicker of remorse crossed his face. geto, too, softened slightly at the sight of you looking so small and vulnerable.

but the worry and anger in their hearts only grew.

“how could you be so careless?” geto finally spoke up, his tone still frustrated, but quieter than before. “we’ve trusted you to make responsible decisions, and you go and do something like this...”

gojo sighed, running a hand through his wet hair again. “you need to understand the gravity of your actions,” he said, his voice firm. “not just for your safety, but for ours too. we care about you, goddamn it. we worry about you—”

geto chimed in, cutting gojo off mid-sentence. “you scared us,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “we thought something had happened to you. and then we found you, soaked and bleeding, with a damn raccoon in your arms.”

the room grew heavy with silence for a few moments as your boyfriends took a moment to collect themselves. the raccoon let out another squeak from the box, almost as if it sensed the tension in the room, and you reached a hand down to pet it gently. it nuzzled closer to your fingers, seeking comfort in its own way.

the weight of gojo’s words hung in the air, heavier than the silence that had settled between you all. as you reached down to soothe the frightened raccoon, gojo’s hand shot out, gently but firmly smacking yours away. “don’t pet it,” he said, his voice harsher than he likely intended, a frown deepening on his face. “it could be carrying diseases, rabies—who knows what. why are you acting so careless?”

his words stung, each one landing with a sting that made you shrink back a little. “you’re a grown woman,” he added, his tone hard. “you should act like it.” the reprimand, though unintentional, echoed in the room, making you feel smaller under his stern gaze. you could see the frustration in his eyes, the fear that had fueled his reaction, but it didn’t make the words hurt any less.

geto noticed the look on your face and gently placed a hand on gojo’s shoulder, urging him to take a deep breath. “satoru,” he said quietly, his tone calm but firm, and gojo’s expression softened, a flicker of regret crossing his face.

gojo looked at geto, then back at you, the frustration in his face slowly melting away. he let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping a bit. “i’m sorry, baby,” he said, his voice less sharp now. “i didn’t mean to snap. i was just… scared. worried sick.”

their voices were starting to blur together, and you could feel a flicker of annoyance growing inside you. you knew they were worried, but the way they were going on and on, like you were some reckless child, started to rub you the wrong way.

without another word, you turned on your heel, your grip tightening on the box. you didn’t bother looking up, your eyes fixed stubbornly on the raccoon who seemed to be your only ally in that moment. you could feel both of their eyes on you as you brushed past them, your shoulder knocking against one of them—honestly, you didn’t even care which one.

they fell silent, stunned as you stormed off towards the bathroom near the living room. you slammed the door behind you, the loud bang echoing through the house. for a moment, you just stood there, your heart racing as you leaned against the door, staring down at the raccoon who was now peeking up at you from the box, almost like it was asking if you were okay.

“great,” you mumbled to the little creature, your voice shaky with frustration. “now we’re both in trouble.”

you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you heard the faint murmur of geto and gojo’s voices from the other side of the door, still clearly upset. you knew they meant well, but right now, you just needed a moment to yourself, away from their scolding and the overwhelming mix of guilt and annoyance swirling inside you.

you glanced at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, the scratches and dirt on your face standing out starkly under the harsh light. “looks like we’re both a mess, huh?” you said softly to the raccoon, who just blinked at you with those big, innocent eyes, as if it didn’t have a care in the world. you let out a bitter laugh, feeling a tiny bit of your frustration melt away, though the sting of their words still lingered.

the bathroom was cold and bright, and you shivered a little as the wet fabric of your clothes clung to your skin. the raccoon, seemingly more interested in exploration than the tension, poked its head over the edge of the box, its wet fur matted down and its dark, beady eyes looking up at you.

gojo and geto’s voices could be heard from the living room, their murmurs audible through the door. you could make out bits and pieces of the conversation, the words “careless” and “thoughtless” reaching your ears.

gojo and geto stood in the hallway, the sound of the bathroom door slamming echoed through the silent house. they exchanged looks, both equally frustrated. gojo ran a hand through his hair again, sighing loudly.

“great,” he muttered, his tone sarcastic. “she’s mad at us now.”

geto scowled, leaning against the wall. “can you blame her?” he snapped. “we just went on and on about her actions. she probably feels like a damn kid getting scolded.”

gojo shot him a glare. “she acted like a damn kid. what was she even thinking, going out in the storm for a raccoon?”

geto’s jaw clenched. “but she brought the damn thing back here. it’s not like she was careless with its life. just ours.” gojo cursed under his breath, looking in the direction of the bathroom where you were. the sound of your voice, talking to the raccoon, was clear even through the closed door.

gojo crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as he tried to ignore the twinge of guilt building in his chest. he looked up at geto, who was still looking in the direction of the bathroom, a frown on to his face.

gojo sighed, his expression softening slightly. “i know, i just...” he ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit he couldn’t quite shake. “i can’t help but worry about her. it’s like, the second she’s out of my sight, i start imagining all the ways something could go wrong.”

gojo and geto stood there, tension thick between them as they listened to the faint sound of water running from the bathroom. through the door, they could hear your muffled voice, and it didn’t take long to realize you were talking to the raccoon.

“you know, those two idiots think they know everything,” your voice drifted out, laced with annoyance and frustration. “like, seriously? they don’t get it. it’s just a little rain, and they’re acting like i brought a lion home or something.”

gojo let out a dry scoff, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “she’s really in there talking shit about us to a raccoon,” he said, rolling his eyes. “unbelievable.”

geto couldn’t help but smirk a little, despite the lingering irritation. “yeah, well, at least she’s not yelling at us directly,” he muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “guess the raccoon’s a better listener than we are.”

gojo huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “yeah, maybe we should start taking advice from the damn raccoon. at least it can’t talk back.”

geto laughed at that, shaking his head. “you have a point there. might be easier to deal with than a stubborn girl, huh?”

gojo looked at geto, a small smile playing at his lips despite his mood. “yeah, well, that stubborn girl is one of ours. and, as annoying as she can be...” his expression softened, his voice trailing off.

as gojo and geto leaned against the wall, their frustration slowly ebbing away. the tension in the air had noticeably lightened, the sound of your voice still drifting out from the bathroom, now with a different tone, softer and more soothing.

gojo’s shoulders relaxed, his scowl softening slightly into a half-smile as he glanced back towards the bathroom. “you know,” he said, looking over at geto, “she always tries to see the best in everything, even if she’s being an idiot about it sometimes.”

sitting on the cold of the bathtub, you hugged your knees close, letting out a sigh that rippled through the quiet bathroom. the soft warmth of the water surrounding you barely eased the sting of gojo’s words or geto’s exasperated looks, and you couldn’t help but vent a little. glancing down, you saw the raccoon sitting by the pool of warm water, eyeing you with a strange, almost sympathetic curiosity.

“can you believe them?” you muttered, resting your chin on your knees as you looked at the little creature. “they’re acting like i’m some kind of helpless kid. like i don’t know what i’m doing.” the raccoon cocked its head as if considering your words, and you couldn’t help but smile at its curious, wide-eyed gaze.

“i mean, yeah, i got caught in the rain,” you continued, your voice softer, almost pouting. “but it’s not like i was trying to make them worry. i just couldn’t leave you out there.” the raccoon gave a soft chitter, and you reached down to stroke its damp fur gently, finding a bit of comfort in its small warmth.

“they act like i’m clueless,” you went on, feeling the need to get it all out, even if your only audience was a stray animal. “i get it—they were scared, i know. but i’m not some dumb kid. i know what i was doing.”

another huff escaped you, your cheeks warming slightly as you remembered gojo’s frustrated sigh, his tone that was harsher than usual. it had hit deep, despite knowing he hadn’t really meant to be that way. maybe it was their worry, tangled up in anger, but it was hard to shake off.

you let out a long sigh and leaned back, mumbling under your breath to the raccoon. “maybe it’s their problem if they’re gonna worry so much over every little thing. it’s not like i’d do something reckless…” you trailed off, a small, rueful smile pulling at your lips as you glanced at your dripping clothes in a heap beside you.

just as you were about to continue your quiet rant, you heard a soft knock on the door, followed by gojo’s voice, a bit softer than before, “hey, you okay in there? the raccoon giving you better advice than us?”

you rolled your eyes, letting out a low sigh and glancing back down at the raccoon, who seemed perfectly content in its cozy little spot by the warm water. “can you believe these guys?“ you muttered, ignoring gojo’s voice from the other side of the door. “like i really need their advice on what to do. i’ve got this all under control.”

the raccoon looked up at you with those round, trusting eyes, as if it were your little confidante in this moment. a smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth. “exactly. they just don’t get it,” you whispered to the animal, reaching out to stroke its damp fur.

gojo leaned against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, as he listened to you talking to the raccoon. A conflicted expression crossed his face as he listened to you, your words a mix of hurt, frustration, and something else he couldn't quite place.

he shifted on his feet, a frown on his face, and knocked again, a little louder this time. “are you going to come out of there? or are you going to keep talking to the raccoon? it might start charging you for therapy at this rate.”

geto let out a snort, his annoyance quickly replaced by laughter. “oh yeah, i wonder how the raccoon is reacting to that little rant.”

gojo bit back a smile. “bet it’s just sitting there nodding, pretending to be a good listener,” he responded, trying to keep his composure. “probably thinking ‘this girl is crazier than them.’”

geto couldn’t help but grin at the mental image of you talking to the raccoon like it was your therapist. “i can already see it,” he joked. “the raccoon’s probably giving her better advice than we ever will.”

you glanced down at the raccoon, who blinked back at you with wide, curious eyes, and muttered under your breath, “can you believe those two? who do they think they are, acting like my dad and trying to scold me?” your voice was soft but laced with annoyance, and you could’ve sworn the raccoon tilted its head, almost as if agreeing.

“if they didn’t get on my nerves so much…” you paused, a sly smirk creeping onto your lips as you muttered, “i’d probably kiss them. especially that albino guy.” you rolled your eyes, thinking of gojo’s pale hair and smug face. he was always half a second away from annoying you into oblivion, but somehow, that just made him all the more irresistible.

the raccoon, as if it understood your dilemma, gave a tiny squeak and nuzzled closer. “exactly,” you whispered to it. “they’re the ones who keep acting like they run my life, and then wonder why i get frustrated.”

you could hear faint laughter from the other side of the door, geto and gojo clearly amused at whatever mental image they had of you venting to a raccoon. “they’re having way too much fun out there,” you grumbled, casting a sideways look at the door. but part of you couldn’t shake the warmth in your chest. as much as they annoyed you, their concern was something you couldn’t ignore—even if they were the world’s most overprotective idiots.

gojo stood outside the door, his expression shifting between amusement and slight concern. he knew your frustration was justified, but he also couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of the situation. you, venting to a damn raccoon, while they were stuck out here, waiting for you to come out and talk to them.

as he leaned against the door, he glanced back at geto, who was also having a hard time keeping a straight face. gojo’s voice was a low murmur as he spoke, his tone a mix of amusement and understanding. “she’s really not taking this well, is she?”

geto let out a soft chuckle, his purple eyes gleaming with warmth as he looked over at gojo, clearly amused but also filled with affection. “you know how she is,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “everything’s gotta be some grand, dramatic moment. it’s like living with a walking soap opera.” his voice held a gentle fondness that softened his words, showing he loved every bit of your theatrical tendencies.

he leaned on his side against the wall, crossing his arms with a small smile tugging at his lips. “she’s probably in there, giving the raccoon the speech of the century, like it’s her co-star in some tragic, misunderstood romance.”

gojo snorted, though a faint smile played on his lips as well. “wouldn’t put it past her to actually start acting out a scene,” he replied, his tone both teasing and fond. “and of course, we’re the villains in her story.”

geto rolled his eyes, nudging gojo with his elbow. “yeah, but we’re her villains,” he said, his voice softening as he gazed at the bathroom door. “and if she wants us to sit here and play along with her soap opera, then… well, i guess we’re in for the whole show.”

the two of them shared a quiet, knowing look. they might tease you endlessly about your dramatic antics, but they wouldn’t trade any part of you—mood swings, raccoon rescues, or frustrated rants—for the world.

the sound of water sloshing softly in the tub as you shifted in the water broke the momentary silence between you and the raccoon. another sigh escaped your lips, this one even quieter than the last.

you looked down at the raccoon, who seemed to be listening intently, its wide, beady eyes fixed on yours. “maybe they’re right, though,” you mused, your tone a mix of frustration and resignation. “maybe i really am just being reckless, not thinking things through. i can be a lot sometimes.”

the raccoon chittered quietly, almost as if in response. as they stood there, the faint sound of your frustrated groan came from inside the bathroom, followed by the soft splash of water.

“ugh, you’re useless,” they heard you mutter to the raccoon, your voice edged with irritation. “can’t even help me with this mess. just sitting there, looking cute, while i’m stuck with those two idiots.”

gojo’s lip quirked into a wry smile at the sound of your frustrated comment, though it was tinged with affection. “sounds like the raccoon didn’t give the advice she was hoping for,” he said to geto, amusement in his voice.

geto chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “maybe he’s just good at listening without offering solutions,” he replied, his tone light. “she’s probably just projecting because she didn’t get the grand epiphany she was hoping for.”

gojo chuckled, shaking his head as he called through the door. “baby, i’m coming in.” without waiting for a response, he opened the door and stepped inside. his gaze softened when he saw you in the bathtub. the sight made his heart ache just a bit—there you were, knees hugged to your chest, your face half-hidden, looking all small and defiant with the raccoon settled in front of you. despite the warm water around your legs, you shivered lightly, and his frown deepened, especially when he noticed you absentmindedly petting the raccoon’s back.

“hey,” he said, voice soft but firm as he stepped closer. “i told you—don’t pet that thing. who knows what it’s carrying.” he eyed the raccoon with a mixture of curiosity and mild irritation. But the creature simply stared back at him with round, black eyes, like little boba pearls, almost innocently.

gojo’s frown intensified as he took in the raccoon’s round shape. “why is it so… fat?” he muttered, utterly baffled. “isn’t this supposed to be a wild animal? how’s it getting so chubby?”

he glanced at you, suspicious but amused, his arms crossing over his chest. “you sure you didn’t find this thing at someone’s house instead of the wild? it looks like it’s been eating better than me.”

you shot gojo a glare, your lips drawn into a tight line. “i did not steal someone’s pet raccoon,” you retorted, your tone bristling with annoyance. “it’s a wild animal. i found it outside during the storm, cold and wet. it was shivering—it needed help.”

geto appeared in the doorway, peeking over gojo’s shoulder, and when he saw the round little raccoon, he couldn’t help but laugh. “looks like you picked the laziest scavenger out there,” he teased, nudging gojo with his elbow. “maybe it’s been making the rounds in the trash, or maybe it found someone as soft-hearted as you to sneak it snacks.”

gojo raised an eyebrow at you, his expression a blend of suspicion and affection. “you haven’t been feeding it, right?” he asked, crossing his arms with a slight smirk. “i’m just saying—this guy’s looking way too well-fed to be surviving on his own.”

you shot gojo a glare, your frown deepening as you turned your attention back to the raccoon. its big, shiny eyes stared up at you, and in your heart, you felt like it understood every word of gojo’s harsh critique. gojo’s insulted it, calling it fat, and now it looked at you with what you imagined was a pleading, almost wounded expression.

“no, satoru, i didn’t feed him... yet,” you retorted with so much sassy, leaning down and gently covering the raccoon’s ears with your hands, as if to protect it from any further slander. “and he’s not fat. you’re fat,” you shot back, eyebrows knit together.

gojo and geto exchanged a quick look, both of them fighting back laughter at your defense of the raccoon. you were so fiercely protective, even of a little, pudgy animal you’d just met. it was both endearing and utterly ridiculous.

gojo cleared his throat, trying to hide his amusement behind an exaggerated scowl. “okay, alright, we didn’t mean to insult his pride. but seriously, baby. that raccoon’s been living the good life, if it’s not a pet.”

geto chuckled, leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. gojo’s arms, too, crossed over his chest as he watches you with a soft smile on his face, “and for the record, my love, i’m in peak physical condition. unlike this round, fluffy little raccoon who's been living it up on your good nature.”

he leaned against the bathroom wall, watching as you continued to defend the raccoon. “and sure,” he said dryly, “tell me it’s not getting fat when it can barely fit through that window over there. look at it—it's like a furry little bowling ball.”

you gasped, eyes widening in mock offense as you turned to gojo. “satoruuu!” you whined, drawing out his name with a pout, clutching the raccoon a little closer as if to shield it from gojo’s unrelenting insults.

then, without missing a beat, you shot a look over to geto, silently begging him to step in and say something in defense of your newfound friend. your eyes held a mixture of frustration and that playful helplessness, almost like you were saying, “do something.”

geto moved in closer, his chuckle soft and warm, creating an inviting atmosphere as he crouched down beside the tub, his eyes lighting up as he looked at the pudgy raccoon nestled in your arms. his fingers gently stroked the animal’s fluffy back, a gentle caress that seemed to soothe both the raccoon and you. you watched the interaction, your heart melting slightly at the sight of your boyfriends bonding over this unexpected guest.

turning back to gojo, geto’s amused smile widened. “you do know not all raccoons are the same, don’t you?” he teased, his tone light and filled with mirth. “some just happen to be a bit more round than others.” his eyes sparkled with humor, and gojo rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips despite himself.

then, geto’s attention shifted back to you. he noticed the pout on your lips, the way your eyebrows knitted together in defiance, and it brought a fondness to his expression. a soft smile crept onto his face as he reached up to pat the top of your head, his hand warm and comforting against your damp hair. “hey, you know we care about you, right?” he asked, his voice dropping to a tender whisper.

his gaze lingered on your face, taking in the pink flush on your cheeks from the cold water and the storm outside. “we got mad earlier because we worry. we care so much about you that we can’t stand seeing you hurt.” his tone was serious, but the gentleness in his voice wrapped around you like a warm blanket, easing some of your stubbornness.

he glanced briefly at the raccoon before turning back to you, his expression softening even further. “i know you care about this little thing,” he continued, a hint of concern entering his voice. “but it’s not a pet. it could be dangerous for you, and we don’t want that. we don’t want you catching any diseases from wild animals.” his words hung in the air, a mixture of concern and protectiveness that resonated deeply within you.

as you processed what he said, geto’s gaze remained fixed on you, watching for your reaction. he could see the reluctance in your eyes, the internal struggle between your affection for the raccoon and the logical reasoning behind his words. with a gentle firmness, he added, “we will call animal control, and that’s the end of the discussion.”

the way he said it was calm yet resolute, showing he wouldn’t waver on this point, but the kindness in his eyes made it clear that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your feelings. instead, he was looking out for you, and you could feel that deep down.

you sighed, the weight of the situation pressing on you as you glanced at the raccoon, then back at geto, feeling the warmth of his hand still resting on your head, grounding you.

you opened your mouth, eyes wide and pleading as you looked up at geto, grasping for one last solution. “we could take it to the vet first, y’know,” you suggested, your voice laced with a mixture of hope and determination.

but before geto could even consider your request, gojo’s voice cut in sharply. “no.” his tone was firm, all traces of his usual playfulness replaced with a serious edge that made you pause. his arms remained crossed, his posture resolute as he looked down at you, his expression softened but unyielding. “this is the end of the discussion.”

you frowned, surprised by his uncharacteristic firmness, and a small pout formed on your lips as you tried to hold your ground. but gojo didn’t budge, his gaze steady and unwavering, showing you that he wasn’t going to compromise on this, even if he usually gave in to your whims.

you looked up at geto, your eyes filled with a silent, pleading look that you knew he couldn’t usually resist. you gave him your best hopeful expression, the one that always seemed to melt his resolve just a little. but this time, instead of caving, he let out a soft sigh, his gaze steady yet sympathetic.

“no,” he said gently, his tone unwavering. he gave your head a soft pat, his fingers brushing through your hair as if to soften the blow. “as much as i’d like to give in to that look, it’s still a no. it’s just not safe to keep him here.”

gojo, who had been watching the entire exchange with his arms still crossed, let out an approving hum, clearly glad to see geto sticking to his stance. he offered you a small, sympathetic smile, but there was no give in his expression either. “he’s right, love. we’re just looking out for you,” he said, his tone softening just a little.

you sighed, glancing back at the raccoon who looked up at you with those big, round eyes, almost as if he understood the situation. you muttered a quiet, disappointed “fine,” though it was clear the decision still stung a bit. geto gave your head another comforting pat.

the three of you settled into the cozy warmth of the bedroom, geto sat on the edge of the couch, carefully drying your hair with a hair dryer, his touch gentle yet thorough. you sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor, a fresh set of warm clothes now covering you, and across from you, the raccoon was nestled in a towel, its round body snug as you softly dabbed at its fur to help keep it warm.

gojo, lying on his side in front of you, had his head propped up on one hand, his other arm stretched lazily across the carpet. his gaze was locked onto you, a trace of amusement lingering in his expression as he watched you tend to your unlikely new friend with such fierce dedication.

you let out a small huff, still pouting from earlier. looking down at the raccoon with a sympathetic frown, you muttered, “i’m sorry, little guy, you had to meet someone with a heart as black as… the blackest black.” you gave gojo a pointed look, clearly directing the comment at him.

gojo snickered in response to your comment, his eyes glinting with amusement as he arched an eyebrow. “hey, i just care about you,” he retorted, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “and you have to admit, that raccoon is a real tubby one.”

he reached out and gave the raccoon's round body a subtle poke, earning another disapproving look from you. sighing, you shook your head.

you sighed, rolling your eyes as you tried to ignore the teasing glint in gojo’s eyes. “shut up,” you muttered, giving him an exasperated look. “you’re not funny.”

gojo’s grin only widened, clearly enjoying the fact that he was getting under your skin. “oh, come on, admit it—just a little funny?” he poked the raccoon’s round belly again, as if proving his point, and it looked up at you with what could only be described as mild raccoon annoyance.

you placed a protective hand over the raccoon, shielding it from gojo’s prodding fingers as you glared at him. “leave him alone, satoru,” you said firmly. “you’re just jealous because he’s way cuter than you.”

at that, geto let out a chuckle from behind you, and gojo feigned a look of betrayal, his hand coming to his chest in mock offense. “jealous of a raccoon?” he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “not a chance.” but the playful spark in his eyes gave him away, and you knew he was just trying to rile you up.

but you simply huffed, holding your ground. “whatever helps you sleep at night,” you replied, still shielding your furry friend from any more of gojo’s antics.

gojo chuckled, his expression amused as he observed you fussing over the raccoon. he rolled his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcastic sympathy as he teased you further. “oh, woe is me. how will i ever match the cuteness of a fat little raccoon, eh?”

he playfully feigned distress, dramatically flinging his arm over his forehead, clearly enjoying this little back-and-forth. “i guess i'll just have to resort to using my charming personality and undeniable wit to win your heart, then,” he said with a dramatic sigh, giving you a playful wink.

you gave gojo a look of exaggerated disgust, wrinkling your nose at him. “freak,” you muttered, shaking your head with mock disdain.

gojo's dramatic pout only deepened, clearly playing along as he clutched his chest, pretending to be wounded. “oh, the cruelty,” he groaned. “my love, betrayed by her affection for a chubby raccoon!”

rolling your eyes, you turned away from him and focused on the raccoon instead. gently touching its tiny paw, you leaned in and murmured, “ignore that guy, he’s just… weird.” the raccoon looked up at you with those big, round eyes, and you could’ve sworn it seemed to understand, its tiny hand clasping around your finger as if in agreement.

behind you, geto snickered, but you kept your attention on your new furry friend, tuning out his playful antics.

as you showered the raccoon with affection, stroking his soft fur and giving him little scratches, gojo couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy—not for the attention the raccoon was getting (though that was definitely a factor), but for the way you were so effortlessly affectionate. he had a knack for being playful and teasing, and he loved bantering with you, but there was something about your soft, gentle side that he secretly adored.

he watched you with your new friend, genuinely admiring the way you interacted with the little guy. but there was no way he’d admit it. as you continued to shower the raccoon with gentle scratches and murmurs of affection, you couldn’t help but whisper, just loud enough for both geto and gojo to hear, “they’re so cruel… separating me from you.”

you sighed dramatically, running your fingers along the raccoon’s fur as it leaned into your touch, seeming perfectly content. without even looking at them, you could sense gojo and geto exchanging looks, probably fighting back smiles.

“you’re my only friend in this cold, heartless world,” you continued in a soft, woeful tone, earning a snicker from gojo as he nudged you with his foot.

gojo chuckled, teasingly scooting closer to you and poking your cheek. “oh, the drama queen strikes again,” he chimed in, his tone light and playful. he couldn’t help but relish this lighter side of your banter, appreciating the little moments of silliness you shared.

geto grinned warmly, his playful demeanor never far beneath the surface, even in these quieter moments. “i swear, one day you’ll realize that we are actually quite lovable, you know,” he mused, a hint of challenge in his voice, goading you to argue against that statement.

the three of you stood by the door, you felt a heavy wave of disappointment wash over you, watching the raccoon being carried off by animal control. your shoulders slumped, and your lips tugged downward into a deep pout as you raised a hand to give one last, pitiful wave.

“goodbye, my fluffy friend,” you called out dramatically, voice filled with exaggerated sadness. “i’ll never forget you!” gojo tightened his hold on your waist, his hand firm as he gently but decisively kept you in place, rolling his eyes. “alright, alright,” he muttered, unable to hide a faint smile. “you’re acting like you just lost a lifelong pet.”

your pout deepened as you looked up at him, sighing dramatically. “he could’ve been my lifelong pet, if it weren’t for you two.”

geto, standing on your other side with his hands in his pockets, simply shook his head, his gaze warm but resolute. “it’s for the best, you know that,” he said softly, his calm tone filled with an affection that softened the blow. “we just don’t want you getting hurt, alright?”

you let out a long, exaggerated sigh, leaning back slightly into gojo’s hold as you gave one last forlorn look toward the raccoon being taken away. “i hope you find a home as wonderful as the one we could’ve shared,” you whispered wistfully.

gojo chuckled, shaking his head as he gently nudged you. “come on, drama queen, let's get you inside before you make us adopt a whole zoo.”

you pouted, but didn’t protest further, leaning into gojo’s arms in defeat. “i just hope he finds someone who loves him as much as i could have,” you muttered, your voice soft and sad as you watched the raccoon disappear from view.

geto put an arm around your shoulder, gently nudging you towards the warmth of the house. “oh, you'll find another one to dote on soon enough,” he teased, his tone light but filled with affection. “but for now, let's get you back to the real world.”

you sighed, shoulders slumping as you murmured a soft, “alright,” letting go of the last thread of resistance. with a defeated pout still on your face, you allowed geto and gojo to guide you back inside, their warmth a silent comfort.

leaning into gojo’s chest, you felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting protectively on your back. the affection behind his gesture made you feel both comforted and exhausted, a soft wave of tiredness settling over you now that the raccoon had gone.

gojo’s hand rubbed slow circles on your back, sensing the way your energy had drained, and he whispered softly, “are you tired?” his voice held a tinge of guilt, as if he regretted making you let go of your little friend.

you nodded, your eyes half-lidded as you sank further into his chest. “yeah… just a little,” you admitted, voice barely above a murmur.

gojo hummed in acknowledgment, a soft smile spreading across his face as he processed your tired response. leaning down, he pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead before murmuring, “let’s get you to bed.”

with that, he effortlessly scooped you up into his arm, wrapping one strong arm around your thighs, holding you securely against him. instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, seeking comfort as you nestled your head against his warm shoulder.

the familiar scent of him—like fresh linen and something uniquely gojo—wrapped around you, making your heart flutter. as he carried you through the house, you felt the warmth radiating from his body, easing some of the lingering sadness from earlier.

“you know,” he said playfully, glancing down at you as he walked, “if that raccoon had stayed, he wouldn’t have gotten this kind of treatment. you’re too spoiled for your own good.”

you leaned against him, humming in mild protest, though your weariness quickly won out over any desire to argue. your voice came out soft and quiet, an exhaustion tinged with affection. “am not...” you murmured, your words almost lost to a delicate yawn that followed.

gojo's arms tightened around you as he settled you comfortably against his chest, his gaze warm as he glanced down at your sleepy expression, a soft smile on his lips. “oh, but you are,” he teased, his tone light and affectionate.

“you just can't resist being spoiled,” he whispered, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your cheek, a soft reassurance that his teasing was nothing more than lighthearted affection. as he carried you, his steps were slow and steady, a gentle dance that seemed to rock you closer and closer to the land of dreams.

the warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat against your own, it all lulled you into a state of tranquil comfort, your eyelids heavy. with a murmured hum of contentment, you let yourself sink further into him, his presence becoming a soothing anchor amidst the growing drowsiness.

[maneskinwh0re]

ghostface!sevika x feminine!reader 👻

impulse fic for arctober 29th {sevika day}

men/minors dni, nsfw 18+

middle pic art creds to @ guccipussay ���

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cw: dom!sevika, sub!reader, fem!reader, a man…(reader has a bf but dw he don’t last long :3), blood, gore, violence, cheesy horror movie clichés, implied murders, mask k!nk, choking, kn!fe play, wlw smut!

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♱ halloween night — you sit next your boyfriend, cuddled up on the couch with your legs draped over his lap. his eyes linger up and down the black lingerie dress that hugs your curves, while your own eyes are focused on the horror movie playing on the tv.

♱ saw. a great franchise and the original being one of your all time favorites. as you watch, with every jump scare, your boyfriend grabs at your waist or tickles you, which is usually followed by you screaming and then playfully hitting his arm or chest.

♱ you want to like him. you do like him, but he gets on your nerves. yeah — you often go on errand trips and gym sessions with him and yeah — while you’re there, he occasionally flirts with other women when he thinks you aren’t looking. but spending your favorite holiday with him is a must. after all, what could go wrong with a simple horror movie marathon? everything is perfect, yet the night is still young.

♱ the city has been getting more and more dangerous recently, and as the clock nears midnight, all the kids must’ve gone home. the neighborhood is quiet with the exception of owls and chirping crickets.

♱ suddenly, the movie is interrupted by your phone ringing — a call from an unknown number.

♱ typically, you don’t answer a call unless the number is in your contacts, but your boyfriend irritably pauses the movie and insists you pick it up.

♱ with an agitated sigh, you answer. “hello?”

♱ “hello,” the person says on the other line. the voice is deep with a feminine undertone, laced with a rasp that almost catches you off guard.

♱ “who is this?”

♱ “you tell me your name, i’ll tell you mine.”

♱ “i don’t think so. can i help you?”

♱ “i just gotta ask you one question, baby.”

♱ baby? who does this creep think she is? you can’t help but admit her voice sounds attractive. “yeah? what is it?”

♱ “what’s your favorite scary movie?”

♱ your stomach drops and you end the call with a shudder, tossing your phone to the cushion next to you and breathing slow. something in your gut is telling you not to engage.

♱ “so… who was it?”

♱ “probably just some bratty teenagers prank calling or something.”

♱ “you lying to me?”

♱ “no! what?” you blurt out, almost angered with his distrust towards you. with a huff, you push yourself off your boyfriend’s lap and head towards the bathroom. “keep it paused, gimme five.”

♱ after rinsing your face with water, you take some deep breaths in front of the mirror. calm your nerves, it was just a phone call. the tense feeling in your gut still lingers as you walk back to the living room only to see your boyfriend is nowhere to be found. calling out his name, you sit back down on the couch and pick up your phone to dial his contact.

♱ “ugh- i’m not in the mood for this shit!” you yell out to him as you call his phone.

♱ you hear his phone ring in the other room and decide to make your way to the kitchen. you see it buzz repeatedly on the counter, watching it and zoning out as if waiting... something’s not right. where the hell is he?

♱ “your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging syste-” the sound of your call going to voicemail snaps you back to your senses before hanging up and looking around. you’ve seen too many scary movies to know this is how it all starts, and you try not to let the thought freak you out.

♱ startling you again, your own phone buzzes. unknown caller id. taking a deep breath, you tap the green button on your screen. “hello?”

♱ “hello again, beautiful.”

♱ that damn voice again. your anger rises at the woman on the other line. “what is this? some kind of sick joke? a prank?”

♱ “no no, baby. a game. a real easy one. y’ wanna play?”

♱ “what the f… do i have a choice? what’s stopping me from hanging up right now?”

♱ “maybe it’s your fear that you may not live through this very night.” yeah, right. anyone could make threats like this. she continues through your silence, “you never told me your name…”

♱ “why do you wanna know my name?”

♱ “i wanna know who i’m looking at.” your anger fizzles and breath hitches. fear smothers all the oxygen in your lungs and words are caught in the back of your throat. “you do have a choice, dove— to play or to die.”

♱ “fine,” you agree with a shaky breath, you internally scold yourself for turning to grab the nearest knife. who cares if you’re overreacting? you’re not dying tonight. you grip the knife’s handle tight as you hold your phone up to your ear. you start walking out the kitchen and down the hallway before your question is cut off with her single word. “how do i-”

♱ “colder...”

♱ you stop in your tracks. as a horror film fan, you have yelled at your television screen when a character makes a dumb decision or if you’ve wanted a better plot line. you always thought you would make logical choices if you were ever —hypothetically of course— put in a situation like this. but in this current moment, your head is only clouded with uneasy thoughts and vicious worry. you take a step backwards and start to return to the kitchen.

♱ “warmer… warmer,” her voice trails on as you play the game step by step. you pass the living room and enter the kitchen, stopping when you hear her voice again. “ah ah- cold.”

♱ you turn around and slowly creep your way back to the living room. the thought of her eyes constantly watching causes you to feel a mixture of fear and something else. your short steps continue towards the sofa where you sat care-free maybe only 10 minutes ago.

♱ “warmer… warmer… keep moving, baby. you’re doing so good… red hot. riiight there...” the mysterious woman taunts as you look around. and once you catch the sight behind the couch, you can’t help the horrified gasp and shriek that escapes your lips.

♱ your boyfriend lays motionless, face down on the floor in a pool of his own blood. deep gashes and slices have left his body mutilated. yet no weapon is left anywhere.

♱ fuck. this means she’s already in the house. your heartbeat races and your ears start ringing. no- that’s the phone—the sound of a dial tone. she hung up.

♱ you go to grab a bigger knife from the kitchen but they’ve all been taken. what’s the next best weapon? the only other option you see is the dirty pan that’s been left on the stove from dinner. looks like you’re sticking with the smaller knife you grabbed earlier.

♱ your phone goes off again, causing you to yelp at the ringer and then internally curse yourself for being so jumpy. it’s her again. you try to sound confident, but anxiety and dread involuntarily rises from the back of your throat. “what the fuck do you want?”

♱ “you, baby,” her voice is low and sultry, and you try not to let it get to you.

♱ “you’re psychotic…”

♱ “hm… sorry about your boyfriend. all those muscles didn’t help much,” she replies before ending the call again.

♱ you wander the house, preparing yourself to fight at every corner you turn. “where are you, motherfucker?” you whisper to yourself as you start to creep down the hallway. and before you realize what’s happening, a gloved hand reaches around to cover your mouth from behind, muffling your panicked scream that follows.

♱ your phone drops to the floor as you quickly swing your arm back to stab the tall figure behind you. your aggressive attempt to defend yourself is reversed as the woman dodges the knife and spins you so you’re now pinned against the wall. her right hand still muffles your mouth and the left holds your wrist above your head.

♱ your hold on the knife above you is weak as you freeze in her grip, your free hand clawing at her forearm. you can feel the size of her muscular arms in your struggles. once your vision clears, your squirming slows to a stop as you are face to face —or face to mask— with your intruder. her towering figure is clothed in black-hooded fabric and a long black and white mask is layered over her head, its mouth shaped as if screaming.

♱ you breathe through your nose in short gasps. “look at you… even prettier up close.” she tilts her head as if studying you. you’re unable to see her eyes but it’s obvious she’s looking you up and down as if you’re her next meal. “scream for help and you die. y’ got that, angel?” her hand tightens its grip on your mouth and her tone is short and stiff, like a merciless general commanding orders to a feeble soldier. you confirm you understand with a small nod, eyes still welled with tears until you soon blink them away. once your breaths even, she lowers her hand. “there you go, now was that so hard?”

♱ “what the fuck do you want from me?” you ask accusingly, making sure to not get caught up in anger. luckily, your shaky words don’t provoke her and only bring her to a deep chuckle.

♱ “such naughty language,” she says with a tut, almost amused with your fear as she lifts your chin with a gloved finger. you try so hard to push away the butterflies that form in your stomach. “besides, i thought we went over this already.” she lifts her leg between your thighs, teasingly pressing her knee up against you and trapping your body against the wall. a short gasp escapes your lips at the sensation, and she smirks under her mask. she uses this position as leverage to take the knife from your grip and lazily toss it down the hallway. the sudden sound of it clattering to the floor makes you flinch and her hands quickly return to your wrists, pinning them high above your head. “i’m not going to hurt you, angel,” she whispers, her disguised face leaning in close. “not unless you want me to…” and at the end of her sentence, your name rolls off her tongue. how the hell does she know your name?

♱ “y-you’re a damn creep,” you spit back less harsh than intended, and she can tell your barriers are wavering. if you’re being completely honest with yourself, it’s difficult to focus on your frustration when her actions are affecting your body like this. your mind is fuzzy, your chest feels tight, and your core aches. a moment passes as you stare at the woman in front of you, her broad build dominating your figure. the flesh of your bare thighs involuntarily clench on either sides of her knee. you’re in short, black lingerie… of-fucking-course you’re feeling vulnerable in her arms. “what ‘re you gonna do to me then?”

♱ “only things you want me to do, sweetheart.”

♱ and at this, she has you. her words bring a breathy whimper from your lips and you grind yourself against her knee. like a slut. you’re not proud, but it feels good— fear and distress not dissipating but mixing perfectly with pleasure. it’s exhilarating. intoxicating. arousing. it’s a way you’ve never felt before in relation to sex, with your boyfriend or anyone else for that matter.

♱ “y’ dirty little thing. you like this? tryin to get yourself off at the threat of your fuckin life?” she asks, her degrading tone not doing anything to help you come to your senses. “if y’ want help, jus’ use your words.”

♱ “h-help… please,” you nod up to her, squirming and going to cover your face with your hands until you're reminded of her own gloved hands restricting you by the wrists. you want to hide— hide from her, from your shame, from the lust, from your lack of wanting to fight whatever this is. but as soon as she lowers her hand to feel how wet you are through the fabric of your underwear, all negative thoughts abandon your mind.

♱ “give up the fight, dove.” the masked woman’s voice is rich and warm, and you finally pinpoint her subtle puetro rican accent while she speaks. she feels you relax into her hand at her words and loves hearing the quiet sounds you make as one of her fingers slowly circle your clit through the thin, dampened material.

♱ “i give up- i… i give up. please, just-”

♱ “you want me inside you, baby?” she whispers into the nape of your neck, the bloodied plastic of the mask grazing across your exposed collarbone. your hurried nod cues her to remove her right glove, and her left hand lazily shoves it in the back pocket of her black jeans under her cloak. you catch a glimpse of her veined hand before she pushes your underwear to the side and thrusts two thick digits into your wet cunt. you clench around her middle and ring fingers, watching how white rings of cum drip and gather at the dark skin of her knuckles.

♱ her free hand trails up your chest and grips you by the neck, squeezing lightly and bringing a strained moan from the back of your throat. “been watchin' you for a while now. 've seen the way your fingers wrap around this throat as you touch yourself, thinkin' no one could fill those filthy desires o' yours.” your hands grasp at her forearm again and force her grip harder against you. she chuckles once she realizes what you’re trying to do, and decides to give you what you want, a tightening hold that's hard enough to leave bruising. “you like my hand right here? choking the damn life outta you? y're a sick little slut, it’s adorable.”

♱ as her long fingers thrust and curl inside your heat, you find yourself at her mercy while she fucks you against the wall. the thought of your boyfriend's cold, rotting body in the other room is long gone. and you can only focus on how warm this womanly murderer feels against you, killing just so she can get to you. now that thought is what makes you weak in the knees.

♱ “can y' keep yourself standing, baby? or do i need to fuck you on the floor?” she asks as her fingers quicken their movements.

♱ “mph- i can stand!” you insist, trying so hard to keep your jelly knees from buckling under your limp self. you feel your back start to slide down the wall, disproving your protest. you're visibly unable to hold up the weight of your own trembling body. it's not your fault your trespasser just makes you feel so fucking good. so fucking close... until she stops.

♱ her fingers pull out quickly and she seizes one of your arms, not bothering to wipe your juices off her fingers. you feel how soaked two of her fingers are as her large hand grips your upper arm, tightening to a painful squeeze.

♱ “clearly, you don't have the strength. so we're gonna try s'mthin' new,” she says before tearing your underwear off and throwing you to the wooden floor. you lay there for a moment, shock hitting you as you try to take in oxygen again. facing away from the intruder, you bring your forearms close and try to crawl towards the other end of the hallway. your hips roll to the side with every other crawl so you can rub your thighs together, attempting to recreate that same friction you felt seconds ago.

♱ in the state of hysteria, you miss the foul act of the masked woman tucking your underwear into the other back pocket of her pants.

♱ you turn your head up to see her slowly bending down to pick up the kitchen knife she tossed away minutes ago. you see the back of her head through an opening in the mask's fabric. her dark hair is short, maybe reaches just past her ears. but any further sight of her human characteristics are cut short once she stands up and her posture straightens. her head turns to you. and your breath quickens. she begins walking. every brisk step passes faster than the last as she gains more speed down the hallway, knife clutched in her fist.

♱ is this how it truly ends? a trick to get edged and then end up killed? some scary movie.

♱ alarms blare in your mind and genuine fear takes over as you try to crawl away. prey chased by predator. think y' know who wins in this twisted game.

♱ a gloved hand clutches the flesh on your shoulder and flips you onto your back. you can't seem to help your panicked scream that erupts into the fabric of that same damn glove. she removes her palm with a forceful shove away and pins both your wrists to the floor on either sides of your head. she lowers her body on top of you and straddles your hips, shushing you and reassuring she won't hurt you.

♱ you almost believe her until your frightened eyes watch her arm lift, the knife held tight in her fist. she brings it down hard causing you scream again and squeeze your eyes shut, too scared to watch how she guts you. when you don't feel any pain, you peek an eye open to watch her laugh. laugh at your terror, knife still in hand.

♱ rightfully pissed off now, for both fearing for your life and the pleasure she has delayed you of, you spit up at her ghost of a face. your saliva scatters across the plastic, but surely she felt mist of it directly through the patches of the eyes and mouth. she pauses. and if only you could see that sadistic smirk of hers, just so proud of your little defiant act.

♱ but every bad action has its consequence.

♱ the knife lifts again and is slammed down into the floor, just inches to the right of your head. the handle points up to the ceiling and your ghostface girl guides your hand up and wraps your fingers around it, then follows suit and wraps her own left hand around the handle as well. it's sentimental, you tell yourself as you focus on calming your breathing.

♱ her right hand trails down your chest and returns to its place at your cunt. she teases a finger before pushing in two again, and you can't tell how long she keeps delaying your needed orgasm. one moment, you're a pleading mess. the next, you can't speak because her gloved hand clutches at either your mouth or throat. she smells of dried blood and alcohol, bringing you close only to pause her movements for the second time.

♱ “please, i can't keep doing this. i... need to-” your begs are cut off by her taunting words.

♱ “need to what?” she asks, her mask leaning close to your face. “say it.” her intensity rises a blush to your cheeks, and when you can only let out a shy whimper, she withdraws her fingers from your aching heat again.

♱ ignoring your protests, fusses, and pouts, she shoos your hand off the knife's handle next to your head and yanks it out of the floor in one swift movement. she trails the sharp point of the blade down your torso, from your chest all the way to your mound. you can't help the little buck of your hips as the cold metal lightly grazes your clit.

♱ that little movement brings her to a chuckle. “i know a lot o' things about you, dove. but i wasn't sure you'd crave knife play this badly.”

♱ you can only muster a strained groan. and with that, she flips the weapon and gently pushes the handle into your soaking walls. the most provocative of sounds is brought at the contact, and it's music to her ears. she groans in satisfaction and ogles at how well you take it.

♱ her thrusts are slow, careful, gentle, turning and pushing and pulling... mindful of how easily she could injure the flesh of your inner thighs or even your pretty pussy with one wrong move. her skilled hands work you up again, probing your body with her calloused skin.

♱ you feel that knot in your core grow tighter and tighter. in a moment of impulse, your shaky hands reach up to grab hold of the ghostface's mask and pull it up to reveal your intruder's real identity. she just lets you, casually watching your wide-eyed reaction to her appearance as she fucks you faster.

♱ she's fucking gorgeous. you first notice her eyes, a shining grey in contrast to her darker skin. her nose is wide and hooked, her lips are plump and soon turn upward in a sly smirk as you study her. she notices your focus lingering at her lips, so she allows herself to lean in and place a light kiss to your slightly open mouth. your jaw is slack as you continue to take staggered breaths, yet you want more. you chase the kiss once she begins to pull away. connecting your panting mouth to hers again, she pushes her tongue into your mouth with a groan and swallows every sweet whimper she brings from the back of your throat.

♱ the handle of the knife continues to pump in and out of your leaking cunt. she knows you won't last much longer. you can't. you break the kiss at the last possible moment to gasp for air, and she uses that short second to pull her ghostface mask back down with her gloved hand.

♱ she wants her lips to be on yours again, but she'd be damned if she returns to the sensation. she's already internally scolding herself for becoming too attached to the taste of you, but she is just loving how you make vulgar curses sound sweet in the ways they spill from your panting lips. “f-fuck, fuck! i'm gonna-”

♱ “i know, baby, i know,” she says, her deep voice slightly softens as she speeds up her pace and grazes your clit with her thumb. “sevika,” her deep voice mutters close to your ear. and when you bite her clothed shoulder as a way to mute your own uncontrollable whimpers and moans, her gloved hand returns a threatening squeeze to your throat. after forcing you back down to the floor, she speaks again. “scream for sevika. scream my name as you cum on my fingers, dove...”

☆ ·:*¨༺ ♱ ༻¨*:· ☆

♱ blue and red lights move across the walls through the windows. the blaring sounds of sirens are heard from outside. you think you find peace until you hear muffled yells from police officers at your front door, warning anyone who is in the entryway that they're breaking it down. you hear a countdown and loud pounding, but the ringing in your ears is louder.

♱ by the time the officers run down the hallway and get a sight of you, there's scattered radio chatter followed by paramedics springing into action and bombarding you with questions.

♱ “ma'am, can you hear me?” ... “can you tell me your name?” ... “have you been stabbed?” ... “is there anyone else in the apartment with you?” ... “who did this?”

♱ you're coughing and sputtering. your body is in a heap of blood, sweat, and tears (and cum but it's not as noticeable). at this point, you only remember little flashes.

♱ sevika. you never got to tell her how pretty that name is. you remember the outlines of her face. the trace of her fingers... the trace of that knife before it was plunged into you. not deep, nor anywhere vital. you remember being in that post-orgasm gaze... a whisper in your ear — “for evidence...” — and then a sharp pain sliding its way in and out of your side, bringing you to a pile of blood and pained tears on the floor. you were already covered in sweat — she had made sure of it, but then she had to go ruin you again. ruin your body twice.

♱ a flashlight is shining in your eyes, bringing you back to the present as well as attention to the obvious growing blood stain in your clothing. your breathing becomes strained and labored as your vision starts to cloud.

♱ “victim has three visible injuries-” you overhear paramedics take note of your body's condition as they bring in a stretcher to carry you. “stab wound and two abrasions, neck and chest...”

♱ a subtle grin sneaks its way onto your face once you realize why sevika left you in an open pile on the floor. she didn't want to kill you, but she also didn't want to see your name in a court file. seems like getting found with a stab wound would lower your chances of being high suspect for your boyfriend's murder. they have no other leads so far, but sevika made it seem like you were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

♱ you know police will pester you with further questions and investigations, but you don't care. your lips are sealed.

╔═══════ ☆ ·:*¨༺ ♱ ༻¨*:· ☆ ═══════╗

♡ this was so rushed i actually don’t like it but WHATEV

♡ hope y'all enjoyed! lmk if y'all want this to be a series bc i love halloween too much to only post spooky themes once a year...

- 🐝

╚═══════ ☆ ·:*¨༺ ♱ ༻¨*:· ☆ ═══════╝

tag list: @lovinglywriting ♡

[misserabella]

sick love

perv! ellie williams x fem! reader

pt2

synopsis; you catch your best friend ellie touching herself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns her on even more. if only you knew she had been dreaming about this moment for her entire fucking life and that she has even planned for it to happen…

cw; really perv!ellie, dark themes, somnophilia (if you squint), breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom ellie for the first part but dominant on the end, p in v sex, cum eating, masturbation (ellie), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, slight stalking? (only if you really really squint), hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

‘Use me. Use me...’

Ellie was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really pervert way. Her sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and her, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were nowhere to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you’d invited Ellie for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. She found herself staring for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been sharing, her eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? She didn’t even remember how her panties had gotten that fucking soaked nor how her hand had ended inside her pants, palm slick in precum as her fingers thrusted inside her slick cunt, bottom lip in between her teeth and soft moans and groans scaping her lips. But she didn’t care. She came so hard that night that she swore she saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, she of course felt awkward and embarrassed of herself around you. Masturbating to her sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when she found herself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

She relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against her neck, your tits fully pressed to her chest and whimpers making her pussy drool, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for her to stop as she beat the shit out of them.

She liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of her, she wouldn’t have it. She sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up, so she always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to herself. Like it had to be. You were hers, or you’ll be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” her shrugging even when she knew that she was, in fact, the thug. Then, she’d go back to her house and open the last drawer of her desk — which she had under key— and take the same chapstick out of her pocket to push it inside along with the other things she had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

She loved them. She almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… She loved the ones that she stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch she would push against her nose and lick as she fucked herself. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove her crazy.

Another thing Ellie loved to do was take photos of you. She had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. She loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But she also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for her. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. She even had one of you resting asleep on her lap, lips parted and against her clothed cunt. She saved some of them on her wallet in case she ever had to take care of herself when she hung out with you.

She was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to her porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to her cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of her infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case she ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if she ever felt lonely in her empty house. At first, before her infatuation appeared, she would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for her to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now she snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. She had licked her cum out of your fingers when she had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in her moans and whimpers. Other nights, she would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push her head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as her hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish her head.

She loved it when you played with her hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when she’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at her for using your good conditioner after a pool day. She was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, smelling you on her skin to fuck herself while she showered in your house.

She would stole food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in her mouth. You’d always whine about it, but she never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving her full access to it when you were full.

Ellie considered herself to be a woman with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. She would love to fuck you to her liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call her daddy. She thought of herself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of her numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked her and fucked her, using her like you’d use a fucking toy. She had woken up with a raging orgasm as from her lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was she a pervert? Absolutely. Would she ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

She’d prefer to die with this feelings than ever telling you she loved you. She was just terrified of the thought of you pushing her away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what she thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at her for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that she always bought you, she would come to her house and enter her room with slick coating her thighs. She would pull out of the back of her closet her pussy-shaped toy and her strap and spray one of her pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend her other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for her cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what she’d do, fuck her stupid little toy with her face fully buried on the perfumed one as she imagined you under her, ass up and chest pushed against her bedsheets. Her pace was needy, harsh and deep, the back of the strap bumping against her clit and from her mouth dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making herself cum over and over again when she couldn’t found herself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what she fucked in between whimpers.

She sometimes would leave her house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching her red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there she was, and so were you.

That day she had come with a really painful ache in between her thighs. You’d been sitting on her lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that she had found herself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your friends, laughing with them and jumping on her lap when the jokes were too good. Well, she was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found her hair and slowly massaged her scalp, every now and then pulling at her hair when you played with her locks, her hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from hers— thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using her. The fact that she felt used by you and only you, was what had her gritting her teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Ellie was a good girl, so she just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of her mouth. She felt like breathing once again when you got up from her lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when she no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against her.

“Fuck, y/n…” she whimpered when she plopped on her bed, her palm pushing hardly against her pulsing and aching cunt, precum staining her jeans and underwear. She had pulled out from her closet her fleshlight and strap, since she felt that her hand would not be enough today. She had to fuck herself. “Please, fuck me, please…” she was a babbling mess when the tip pushed inside the lubed toy and her clit rubbed against the strap. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” she found himself whimpering at her mind scenario, in which you would ride her relentlessly, her dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over her cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” she was a babbling mess, her hips rutting upwards against her hand movements to fuck her cock deeper in the toy.

“Els!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened her unlocked front door. Ellie always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a film she had been dying to watch for months and for which she had cried after finding out that it had been banned and would never get to the town’s Film Store. After seeing just how badly she wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from her. “Ellie?” you called out again, the soft sound of her voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving her a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching her room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was she with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Ellie fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked her for years on end, since the first time that she held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But she never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, in the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that she had to be just what she was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached her slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was she fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’ve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out she was not fucking anyone but herself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as her hips fucked upwards, inside her pussy-shaped flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from her lips new groans and moans fell. Ellie was fucking touching herself, desperately rubbing her cunt against the strap, slick on her thighs. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

She looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, eyebrows pushed together as her head fell back against her pillow, hair messy all over it. Her hand was slow, pushing the toy down on her cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see just how long and thick it was, her thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” her voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Ellie was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because she had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Ellie’s movements stopped, her gaze moving to her opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and tape in hand.

She quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under her breath when she sat up, a pillow hiding the strap, clit throbbing at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” she didn’t even know what to say. You had caught her, caught her fucking herself with her goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught her moaning your name. She felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught her… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at her while she pleasured herself. She had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” she cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and hole twitching under the pillow, leaking against her thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making her head snap back to you, a frown on her face, eyes widening when you let the film fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to her bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to her lap when she pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that you would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as you fuck yourself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” she stuttered as she shook her head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping her chin so her eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” she moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and she whimpered, your pussy clenching when she shook her head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against hers, teasing her to get out of her what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled her hair when she tried to kiss you, making her groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” she pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on her lap.

“Only good girls get a kiss, Els.”

“I’m a good girl…” she was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” she nodded, her tongue dampening her lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered her almost naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” she shivered when your lips latched to her neck, your tongue pressing against her skin in open mouth kisses that led to her ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” she moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as she nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as she pushed the pillow off her lap, pussy twitching and thighs soaked in slick.

In the state she was… She would do anything for you. She would even fuck herself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

She moaned when you sat down on her desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. Her hands were shaking when her fingers gripped around the clear silicone or her toy, whimpering when she noticed your eyes on her strap.

It was big —if not massive—, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew she could give it to you, that she would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on the shaft with your tongue and take it so deep on your throat you’d whimper at the pain of your jaw. “Aw, poor Ellie…” you cooed at her. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” she nodded, tears on her eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Els?” she moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to her reaction. She liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” she muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing her cum making her go crazy. She whined when and tortured her bottom lip with her teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for her to see. “Fuck…” she cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

Her pussy was drooling like crazy with every new and fast thrust of her hips, pleads falling off her lips with every brush against her clit. ‘I need you. Need you so bad, y/n…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when she nodded, chuckling at her behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” she whimpered when you had made your way back to her side, standing in front of her and making her head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on her hair, making her hips stutter and breathy whines rip her throat. “Hold it. I haven’t told you to cum yet.” she cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and she had to squeeze the toy and stop her movements to not come when you pushed your damped panties into her mouth, slicked crotch flat against her tongue. Her muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, her eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when she could take a taste on just how sweet you were. She choked on the lace when you startled her legs. Her eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for her to see, thin strips of slick connected them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of her neck to suck a hard hickey on her flesh as you pushed aside her strap, exposing her swollen and reddish soaked pussy.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, her hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to push you down on her and cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when her white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, her mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on hers. You hummed as you stroked her hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across her chest. She was still fucking horny. “Good girl…” you cooed, placing the strap back on top of her cunt, loving just how fucked out she seemed. She moaned when you sat on her cock, its length in between your wet folds and the tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” she cried out with your panties on her mouth when you rocked your hips against hers. That’s all it took for her to cum for a second time, right after her first orgasm. You were gonna fuck her, shit, you were gonna fuck her cock…

You moaned, feeling her nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy against the silicone due to the amount of slick that coated it. “You came again, baby?” she nodded, moaning due to your humping, overstimulating her clit. “Fuck, Els…” you pulled your panties away from her mouth, wanting to hear her groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.” you were fucking soaked for her.

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from her lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled her bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when she leaned in, pupils blown and need on her green thin irises. She looked high. And she was, high on her favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when she had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, her hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, her hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on her hair as she played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering her lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which she quickly discarded away on her bedroom floor. She pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on her pillow —the same she had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. She moaned, pussy aching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for her.

She didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which she took her time with, and of course she would, she had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on her hair. “Ellie…” you whined when she bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. She was so drunk on your skin… She could spend her whole life kissing it that she would never get fucking tired of it. But her teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed her mouth on it now. And she seemed to get it when you pushed her further against it, her hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above her shoulders as she sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when her tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, her due to just how much she had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which she had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with her mouth in mind. Her name falling off your lips on a whimper had her hips rocking against the duvet as she ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when her fingers found their way to your entrance that she started to eat you just like you needed and she always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming her name when her fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as her tongue circled your clit. It was just then when you understood the rumors that went around in your highschool about her mouth. Ellie knew how to use it, really well. So well that she had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. She was like a starved woman, burying her face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in her tongue. “Fuck, Els, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on her hair. She knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Ellie crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

She moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when her tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Ellie drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled her bedroom.

You mewled when once you’d come down from your high, her tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on her wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called for her. She whimpered when you tugged on her hair, pulling her away from your pussy as you sat up. She looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” she begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on her mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to her strap, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where she had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took it in your hand, making her bite down on her lips.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Els.” you said, your other hand coming to her cheek to rub the flush on her skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” her hole twitched to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped her face left her to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for her to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” her eyes rolled to the back of her head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Ellie? Where do you want to cum, baby?” she was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling off her lips as she leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” she found herself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering her the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had her reeling. If only she could really cum inside, she’d make sure to do it over and over again until your belly would swell.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against her lips, her nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with her own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave her a sweet smile when she moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of her mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Els.” she was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive her there, hands on her neck when she leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which she didn’t even need since you were now entering your tongue in her mouth, making her groan. Fuck, she could come just with that. With your tongue in her mouth, your body against her and the thought that you were only letting her fuck you to seek your own release. She moaned on your open mouth when you took her dick to align it with your entrance. You needed her, and you needed her now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Ellie, please, please…” you whimpered, and she didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as she bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit.” she was struggling to move at how hard your walls were swallowing her. Your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving her full access to your neck, which she kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. She was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. Her stretch had you delirious, her tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of her back, making her groan. The two of you were taking your time, her letting you get used to the feeling of her heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. She groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against her. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl for me and let me use your cock, alright?” she whimpered at your words, and in less than one second she had you gripping to her back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Ellie, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

She was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. Her hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on her cock, just as desperate as her. She was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” she was a mess. Both of you were. Her thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in her. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrusts, making your nails dig up on her back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Ellie, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on her ear, making her fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” she begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over her dick as she fucked you dumb, her hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was her name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Ellie, Ellie, Ellie…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” her thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before she finally came. She was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting the back of her strap and her thighs.

“Shit, fuck, Ellie. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness as she had stilled up to the base inside of your swollen and used cunt. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Ellie!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against her pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when she pulled you up from your ass, her cock ramming inside of your soaked pussy. You cried out when her hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in her voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how her mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Ellie had you cumming so hard on her cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around her dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

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a/n; I NEEDED TO OKAY? I NEEDED TO MAKE A SICK LOVE ELLIE VERSION SORRY!! 🩵