#She would usually wear it as a hair tie or around her neck

[ladysouthpaw1213]

in one of my posts, I mention that the orange scarf that my Bell wears in BO6 is the same scarf that Russell wore when he was captured during Warfare. Perhaps it fell off during the struggle or it was found among his other stuff when searching for him in the facility he was held hostage for a while. Whatever the case, Bell started wearing the scarf since it was one of the last things she had of him and his fate was unknown during this period. Perhaps she was the one who found the scarf herself depending if she participated in the search and rescue. Alternatively, it was given to her along with his other recovered mission gear(like hat and jacket) by an ally of theirs. After Russell’s eventual rescue, She will still wear the scarf on mission outfits or just periods when they are separated for sometime due to being assigned to different missions.

[yessirplease69]

❝Domain Expansion: Love❞

Synopsis: You are Gojo Satoru's only weakness. When the bearer of the Six Eyes discerns that your life is in jeopardy, he will do everything to keep you safe.

෴ Genre: fiction, fanfiction, mystery, dark fantasy, short story, one shot, romance, imagine.

෴ Content: husband!gojo satoru × wife!reader, jujutsu society, sorcerer!reader, angst, fluff, sensitive content, bloodshed, suggestive (mature content), satoru gojo!yandere, satoru gojo!tsundere, this takes place shortly before the shibuya incident arc, reader has a maternal relationship with megumi, pregnancy.

෴ Word Count: 3.4K

— Oi, I ain't revised it yet, so sorry if there's any mistakes! Hope u enjoy it 🤞✨

Satoru Gojo is the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer in existence. However, the moment he sees you, his beautiful wife, unconscious on the battlefield with nearly incurable wounds, this man's world crumbles completely. Suddenly, all of his physical and mental energy is being drained, even his enthusiasm to exorcise curses vanishes. He is motionless in place, trembling enough with wide eyes under the black blindfold, and even though they are hidden, they scrutinize all the blood leaving different parts of your body. Minutes ago, there was a stupid and arrogant smile shaping the face of the confident man all the time as he killed horrendous creatures. A countenance of terror overtakes his face now. He feels his legs weakening, his feet seem to be too far from the ground, and he remembers that he is not manipulating the space to make it levitate. He is feeling weak for not having been able to arrive in time to protect you, this emotion has intertwined with him. Especially since Satoru Gojo never even had a weakness until you came into his life.

His heart is beating rapidly and his breath is so intense that all the curses around him are impacted by the reaction of the mighty man among them. Time frenetically ceases as the strong cursed technique is creating an invisible barrier in the air and continues to repel the malevolent creatures that persist in their futile attempt to touch the bearer of Mukagen and Rokugan, while he himself is left vulnerable like a puppy that has just lost its owner.

Didn't she use the reverse cursed technique to stay healed?

Why...

"Satoru." The presence and hesitant voice of Nanami become noticeable at a certain distance. The tie-wearing sorcerer clenches his jaw, too tense as he sees you in a deplorable state. Nanami fails to try not to show all his agony. Witnessing one of his closest friends on the brink of death equals the feeling of having his heart cut with the cursed blade he carries.

Amid the scene, Satoru is lowering the blindfold covering his eyes, the white locks of hair cascading as the black cloth falls. The fabric hangs on his neck before revealing the orbs, the bright blue darkening as a storm brews within them. A lost and distressed gaze is exposed on his face, as if you somehow took his emotions along with you.

"My wife shouldn't be on that suicide mission." The tone of voice of the Jujutsu High teacher is harsh, firm in the way he usually imposes on a very serious subject. A power which makes the walls vibrate when he is arguing with Gakuganji. He is so angry.

As he melancholically walks towards you, the semi-grade 1 curses around him are exploded in a matter of seconds. There are parts of physical structures scattered and fluids like blood painting the ground at this moment, justified by the power of his ability to manipulate space.

"I should've just isolated her from the world, maybe locked her on the 15th floor of a building and then acted as if I didn't do that." A small sad smile forms on the edge of his mouth, he is imagining how you would laugh at this idea if you were conscious now. You would probably find it absurd and put him to sleep on the couch.

Damn, he misses you and wonders why it hurts so much. His intention is to act quickly to take you to the jujutsu sorcerer doctors and stay by your side the whole time while they are taking care of you. He will not leave you for even a minute, and those are the words of Gojo Satoru against anyone. If someone dares to touch you right in front of him, he will definitely be willing to kill.

The strongest sorcerer abandons these thoughts, he does not hesitate to carefully wrap his arms around your body, holding you close to his chest. The man notices the wounds on parts of your face, your jujutsu uniform is dirty with blood and so destroyed, revealing your naked skin. The sweet taste on his tongue is bitter now, his mind can only focus on the fact that you suffered from fighting until you could not take it anymore. You resisted too much because of your undeniable strength, and on one hand he feels so proud of it. He loves showing everyone that his wife is one of the best professional jujutsu sorcerers, strong like him. But you should not be dealing with this cruel world. You are the most precious thing to him.

Satoru could feel your energy miles away, making it easy to identify your presence. But now he's not sensing any cursed energy flowing according to your emotions. It's all so quiet and calm. The powerful energy emanation should be surrounding your body as it always has, but it's as if something inside you is blocking it right now, since he can't feel your aura. It's different. He will question Shoko about this as soon as he takes your body to her for analysis.

"Do not mention it to the students, especially Megumi." The request leaves Satoru's mouth like a command. He imagines how the teenage Fushiguro would react upon finding out your condition, as you had become a maternal figure by making sure to take care of him since he was so young. The spiky-haired student is on a mission with others, and the best choice is not to disclose the information as the bad news would have a big negative impact on the boy. Gojo knows you would want that too.

On the other side of the area, the grade 1 sorcerer nods in deep silence. Nanami feels the muscles strengthen beneath his formal clothes. He is aware of the gravity of the situation, the actions and the consequences. He is not one to conceal lies, but that will be an exception he makes.

"She's losing a lot of blood." The blond man pushes his glasses closer to his eyes with his hands as he gazes at the white-haired sorcerer. He sighs deeply, containing the desperation within him. "Take her out of here before it's too late."

"Thank you, Nanami."

And that was the last thing Satoru Gojo said before teleporting with you unconscious in his arms.

෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊

The night takes over the city, darkness has crept upon Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, and 2 hours have passed since the sorcerer of the Six Eyes emerged in the place, insane, with you clinging to his chest and enraged enough as he searched for an available doctor. Gojo laid your body down onto the nearest stretcher, his hands dirty and consumed by your blood, staining the sheets red and making a mess. 2 hours ago he was screaming at anyone who crossed his path. At this moment, silence hangs in the air like a fog, it is peaceful again behind the school doors.

In one of the infirmary rooms, you are peacefully sleeping on the stretcher. Your chest rises and falls in a steady motion, your body completely healed through the spell cursed technique reversal performed by professionals. The minor wounds and even the most serious ones - like the rupture of your rib - had vanished, and your skin is renewed under the hospital gown you are now dressed in. Sitting in a chair quite close to you, the strongest sorcerer is comfortable with legs apart, assuming a relaxed posture as he rests the upper part of his body on your legs enclosed by the sheets. Satoru Gojo is resting, his eyelids is closed and his head supported by his own arms. He spent so much time watching you sleep that his eyes were influenced by exhaustion. Satoru has no idea of the time he spent caressing your face, running his fingers through your hair, and kissing your forehead several times before settling into his current position. His neck is turned towards the ceiling, his white hair falling naturally loose. There is only a black t-shirt hugging his torso as he had taken off the jacket of his jujutsu attire since your blood had stained most of his clothes. The exposed skin of his arms is almost glistening in the light of the room.

He has kept you safe all this time, only leaving you when he realized that everything was under control. The man always ensures to protect you at all costs, even though most of the time you don't need it. After inspecting the entire perimeter and realizing that you were safe at Jujutsu High, he went to finish the mission that was according to the superiors, just as it had been ordered to you. Since he completed the task of exorcising a special grade curse, his precious time now remains only for you. By the time indicated on the wall clock, Satoru wishes so much to take you home and he only thinks about holding you close until morning comes again. Nevertheless, Shoko was quite insistent when she said that you still require monitoring by a doctor, and that for now you should stay here. What did she mean by that?

This question echoes in Satoru's mind, suddenly he awakens fully and opens his eyes as quickly as if he felt some creature attacking him without warning. A movement of your legs under the sheets does not go unnoticed by him, his blue orbs almost popping out as they contemplate you lazily waking up from eternal rest. For him, it was truly eternal.

"I knew you were here." You whisper. Your voice is weak from just waking up, but a strong smile spreads across your face when your eyes slowly open and meet the white mane. You try to push yourself up out of bed using your arms, but your efforts are blocked by Satoru.

"Babyyy! Easy, easy." Your husband gestures with his hands, a gaze of relief on his face. You're really strong, huh? He is smiling like a little boy who just tasted his favorite mochi flavor, and you are certain you see stars twinkling in his eyes. "Gee, you're already eager to fly."

"Satoru, if you don't let me get out of this bed right now, I swear I don't know what I'll do."

"When in doubt, do nothing." He is clapping consistently to highlight the idea. "Settle that cute and pretty booty down right there, I've locked all the doors and you ain't leaving here. Now tell me how you're feeling, my lovely wife. That's all that matters to me."

"Argh." A small huff of air escapes your lips while you roll your eyes towards the ceiling, defeated enough. The man right next to you is playfully disapproving of your behavior. "I'm fine, 'Toru. You know that better than I do. My skin's just tingling from someone else's reverse technique." You report during the time you notice the scars that have formed on your arm after the outcome of the cursed method. A technique that you have the experience to perform on yourself. After all, you don't carry the title of special grade sorcerer for nothing.

"Nah, don't sweat it. I'm gonna take good care of you." There's an intense gaze that matches his words. The man emits a little chuckle as he realizes he managed to tease you with that.

"And where's 'Gumi?" You inquire, more to yourself than to Satoru. Your eyes are scanning the entire room in search of finding the black-haired teenage boy. You still ponder the king of curse's intentions towards Megumi, it consumes you and leaves you with a nagging feeling.

"You're more worried 'bout him than 'bout yourself, heh." The man raises his eyebrows, indignation stamped on them. A comical expression, almost too much. "You know that tough boy is independent, he's able to handle anything. Can you chill out for a minute, lady?" Satoru's smile broadens before he proceeds: "I took care of everything already, I told him to swing by here before heading to the dorm. Didn't go into the details, of course."

"He's probably gonna be surprised to find out we're here at Jujutsu High at this time of night... Guess I must have slept for a while, right?" You touch the skin of your husband as you place your hand on his face, and give a radiant smile as you realize that there is no invisible barrier holding you apart, even though he always deactivates it when he is with you. "Hey. Thank you for keeping things on the down low. And for everything you do for me."

"Awww! You're welcome, bae." Satoru copies the way you smile, but it is quickly replaced by a grimace. He puts his hand right on top of yours, the wedding rings on your fingers colliding with each other. "Ain't nobody care 'bout me like that. What did I do to not deserve it?"

"It's like I wouldn't be worried about you even if you could move mountains with just your own thoughts." You are rolling your eyes for the second time. Once you blink, he is staring at you with a stern and intimidating look.

"I'm the one here who got the most worried 'cause you got me feelin' this way. A guy like me shouldn't have these kinds of feelings." His voice is husky and his cold blue eyes unravel your soul, the temperature is freezing you. "Don't do that again, or I'll lose my mind and kill anyone around me." The way he adresses this, it is not a bluff. It seems like an objective he would fulfill, a mission that would not require anyone's authorization, not even the higher-ups of the Jujutsu society.

"Satoru..."

"You're trying to make me a widower, hah?" His voice becomes light again, genuine good humor returns. Now he has a broad smile on his face, the eyes are nearly closing due to that action. As if he hadn't announced something so violent just 10 seconds ago. "If I tally up how many folks got worried 'bout you, there won't be enough fingers on Sukuna's hand to count it."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to do that." You are making amends, and he cannot resist gazing at your lips without stealing a quick kiss. A man clingy to his wife. "I had just exorcised a special grade cursed spirit when I started feeling dizzy. My head began to spin."

Satoru reveals a pensive expression on the face, one hand resting on his chin. The most powerful sorcerer is contemplating all the possibilities to uncover the reason behind that eventuality concerning your cursed technique.

"So, I suppose that might have been the reason you didn't recover yourself at that moment, considering you experienced signs of fainting. Your brain became destabilized." He pronounces, cautiously, witnessing you confirm the information. "Were you feeling like that before you got the fight started?"

"When we split up to head towards the mission I was feeling fine." The corner of your mouth moves, you display your teeth to the man in an attempt to reassure him. Gosh, he is being so serious about that. "Maybe I used up too much of my energy, I guess I hit my limit. That's it."

"Hmm, there's something more. It's interesting and surprising how your energy flow is strongest now." The white-haired man is examining you with a curious look.

"Are you saying I'm accumulating this more than usual? Is that possible?"

"It's a fact. And I'm the one confirming it, little sweetheart." There is a smug smile playing on his lips. "But at least you're feeling better right now, yeah?"

"Hell yeah, I feel brand spanking new thanks to Shoko's skills!" You are shooting fire arrows with your eyes towards the bold man. "Can you stop staring at my tits now?"

"I'm just checking to make sure everything's really okay." He speaks with such honesty, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. Satoru cannot shake off the thought of how beautiful you look to him, a very sugary sweet and his favorite. You make him feel so mushy and nearly diabetic.

However, Gojo Satoru is a natural provocateur.

"You're getting on my nerves, 'Toru."

He opens his mouth to laugh out loud, giving you a wink. You also join in his laughter as he starts poking your body several times, this real jokerster tickling you. The antics are suddenly interrupted the moment someone knocks on the door. Shoko Ieiri appears seconds later behind it, revealing only the upper part of her body.

"Sorry to interrupt the lovebirds." She smiles faintly, continuing: "I need a quick minute to talk to Satoru." The experienced doctor has a lit cigarette between her fingers, she is pointing it in your direction. You see its tip sparkling at you. "And you, go rest. Don't even think about escaping from that stretcher until we come back."

"You heard that, huh? This time it didn't come out of my mouth." Gojo has one finger pointed at the tongue he sticks out.

You gaze at them and fold your arms, simply accepting your fate.

"Alright. Goodbye." You are turning your back on them and burrowing into the blanket. "If possible, turn off the light before you guys leave."

"Going to sleep without giving me a kiss? That's not fair." Satoru is shocked enough, a pout forming on his lips and a puppy dog look in his eyes. He truly displays his emotions, reminding you of how every night Satoru Gojo questions that same thing after going to bed with you. Every night, the same thing.

"Okay, you two. I'll wait outside." The woman manages to capture the attention of both of you before the noise of her high heels against the floor fades away.

As soon as she departs, warm lips land on the side of your neck and journey up to your mouth. You need to raise your head to reach Satoru's lips, his skin burning against yours like a flame. The instant his hand wraps around the flesh of your waist and grips it tightly, you understand that he would never let you escape his grasp, or his domain expansion. He is kissing you as if he were thirsty and you were the water fountain, this man is showing you how much he requires you in his life. Preferably alive, of course. Otherwise, he will make sure of it for you.

"Hmmm, get outta here. I promise I'll make it up to you with a full kiss later." You moan at the touch, trying not to show that you're shivering just to not further inflate his already oversized ego. As if it were possible to be any bigger than usual.

"Oh, is that so? You know I'll hold you to that, babe." He growls near your ear.

At the moment the sorcerer is leaving the room, he halts on his path and gives you a long look with his blue eyes. Inside them, Satoru harbors concern.

"What's going on?"

"I'm feeling sorry for my friend." Ieiri ignores Satoru, making one's way to her desk. Instantly, a breeze from outside the window extinguishes the cigarette ember in her hand, smoke spreading throughout the room. "She is truly doomed to sacrifice her life, including putting up with your strong-willed nature for the rest of her life."

"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?" Satoru wears a playful smile on his lips. He places his hands in his trouser pockets in a relaxed and unconcerned posture, anticipating a highly amusing joke.

"You have no idea what's happening, do you? And what's going to happen from now on." She sets aside the cigarette, burying it in the ashtray on the table. Gojo watches everything attentively before rolling his eyes, he's starting to get bored with all the fuss. "But I believe you may have already noticed that the train is off the rails."

The doctor is moving around the small armchair in the room. When Shoko sits down, she leans her back against the backrest and then crosses her legs, silently facing Satoru. The expression on the white-haired man's face is impassive. He wishes he had the ability to read minds.

"Y/N is pregnant, Satoru." The sound of Ieiri's sigh is loud. "She is carrying your child in her womb. It's extraordinary that the baby has survived."

Satoru Gojo's world crumbles once more, for the second time that day. Not only is his own world shaken, but also the entire Jujutsu society.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x shy!fem!reader

Summary: You've never had your first kiss — well not until you stupidly kiss the boy you've had a crush on since forever, the same boy who happens to be your best friend.

Genre: Fluff, some angst, happy ending!

Warnings: swearing, mention of mild injuries, insecurities around kissing, misunderstandings, lovesick!James <3

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

At this hour the Gryffindor common room is lit by multiple candles and lanterns and chills run up your arms from the midnight air as you hug your knees.

On the ground, Lily Evans sits across from you, next to James Potter, and Marlene Mckinnon is on James's left. Sirius Black sits next to you and Remus Lupin next to him. It's amusing how quickly and well you've all managed to form a deformed circle.

You look at Lily. Her fiery auburn hair is pinned behind her by her quill and she's dressed in a blue sweatshirt, with knitted daisies on the sleeves, and a pair of worn out plaid pajama bottoms.

Marlene, who is sitting criss-cross with her elbows on her knees, is wearing her uniform without her cloak and her sandy-blonde hair falls down her shoulders.

James is also dressed in his uniform but, along with his cloak, his gray sweater is nowhere to be seen and he's only in his white chemise. He's undone his Gryffindor tie to hang loosely around his neck.

You glance at Sirius next, who much like his best friend, looks equally as relaxed. He's in a maroon cardigan and black sweatpants. He's also lazily pulled his hair into a half-up half-down situation, leaving array strands that frame his cheekbones.

Remus, unlike his friends, is wearing his uniform as he would in class and when you look at him you can see that his cloak lays on the arm of the armchair behind him. When Remus sees you looking, he smiles.

"Come on, Y/n." Marlene exclaims. She sounds exasperated. You follow her gaze onto the glass bottle in front of you. Your eyes then move upwards until, again, you're met with Remus's dark, hazelnut, eyes and his friendly smile.

Immediately, you look away and fiddle with your hands. "It's just a kiss." Marlene insists.

Sure, just a kiss, easy for Marlene to say, she isn't nearly as close to Remus as you are. Plus, Marlene has no clue this kiss would be your first. You close your eyes, cursing yourself. You knew you shouldn't have joined the game.

"Y/n doesn't have to kiss me if she's uncomfortable, McKinnon." Remus states calmly.

"It's okay." Sirius jumps in, his hand brushing yours, and he leans over. This time, he spins the bottle, "Anyways, it's my turn now." He winks.

You relax a little and glance shyly at Remus, who only sends you a reassuring smile. Your eyes wander to James. It's always unintentional, you convince yourself, and as usual his expression is unreadable. Your heart squeezes when his eyes lock with yours.

However, your small moment of peace as you look at James is broken as soon as the bottle stops spinning and it points at you. Everyone is silent until Sirius asks hesitantly, "Shall I spin again?"

* * *

You haven't moved from the ground.

Your three best friends stand over you, all of them wearing concerned expressions as you hide behind your hands, "I ruined it," You mumble sadly.

"It was just a silly game," Sirius promises, crossing his arms, "So what you didn't want to kiss Remus and I? It doesn't matter."

You tense. You look at them. Remus seems nervous as he scans you up and down.

James still has this unreadable look in his eye, but the moment he kneels down and touches your knee, you relax, "What's really bothering you, love?" He asks.

"It's stupid."

"Nothing you could say is stupid to us, Y/n/n." Remus speaks up, immediately accompanied by Sirius's enthusiastic nod as he crosses his legs, sitting down, and leans his arms across his knees. He sends you a lopsided smirk and tilts his head. Remus crouches next to him and James has his knees bent with you sitting inside them. His hand brushes up to skim your hair near your cheek.

"I'vejustneverhadmyfirstkiss." You admit quietly.

"You have to speak up, doll." Sirius chuckles.

"I've just never had my first kiss and I thought I wouldn't care but it was weirdly intimidating." You feel your cheeks burn as you look at the boys. Sirius and Remus are speechless for a while until they look at one another and smile,

"That's not stupid, Y/n. Or embarrassing. It's cute and completely normal." Remus reassures you and pats your knee. "We understand that you want your first kiss to be with someone you care about and not your dimwitted best friends."

You don't think their dimwitted but nod anyway. Once more your gaze drifts to James and your breath catches in your throat. He's staring. It's intoxicatingly intimidating.

"You haven't kissed anyone?" James blurts out as if he's surprised, which only makes you more embarrassed. "I just assumed," He starts to explain but is immediately interrupted by Sirius,

"You do realize not having had your first kiss yet doesn't mean no one wants you, yeah?" He asks seriously and you nod weakly. You knew that, but it also never feel amazing when no one shows any interest in you.

Remus stands up, dusts his pants, and then he pats your head as you look up at him, "You'll find someone you'll want to kiss sooner than you think, Y/n/n." He smiles as if he knows something you don't.

Sirius follows Remus and stands over you. You look at James, who is also still on the ground, and you don't dare move. "Moony and I are going to bed, it's late." Sirius says.

"You coming, Prongs?" Remus's voice is light.

James looks at you. He pauses and his eyes seem to vibrate a moment as he looks around the room. Your body burns for him to stay where he is but when he stands up, you feel crushed.

So that's why everyone calls it a crush, you realize as James tells you he's joining the others. Your body feels as if it switched on autopilot when you take James's extended hand and he pulls you up to stand in front of him.

"Night," He mumbles, cheeks flushed. He doesn't move. Sirius and Remus have since disappeared upstairs to the boy's dorms and it feels like years pass as James stares at you.

You blame the whiskey for what happened next. Without thinking, or maybe because you'd thought about this moment too much, you take James's cheeks in your hands, pull him into you, and kiss him.

It's more of an inexperienced peck on the lips but as soon as they touch, your eyes snap open and you realize what you've done. You pull away, hands faltering around James's face.

His eyes are round and he's breathing hard. When you feel his hand hesitate at your waist, you jump and move away from him. You want to speak but you can't make your mouth work.

"Y/n," James starts. You read his expression as embarrassed and your heart drops. You can't think of a smart thing to say or do as you panic so you turn around and practically sprint up the stairs to your dorm.

You slam the door behind you, waking your roommates as they grumpily shift in their beds. Quite dramatically, you lean against the door, hands shaking against the wood as your mind feels like it's running a thousand miles per hour.

* * *

James can't sleep. He's been tossing and turning in his bed for almost three hours now but all he can think about is you.

He can't shake the feel of your hands on his cheeks or the way your lips touched his. He didn't kiss you back, he remembers, and he physically cringes as he turns around onto his stomach, wraps his arms around his pillow and muffles his scream.

"You okay, mate?" Sirius's voice cuts into the silent room.

"No." James mumbles, turning onto his back again as he stares into the darkness and gently skims his lips with his fingers.

"What happened?" Remus asks, voice hoarse and tired.

James's brain is too tired to think of anything rational. He's only been thinking of you since you ran away from him and he can't stop himself from admiring, "She kissed me."

* * *

Surprisingly, you've managed to avoid James for a little more than a week. In fact, you'd been avoiding your two other best friends just as long. You knew James must have told them, and they must find it absolutely hilarious.

"James is worried about you, Y/n." Lily says one morning as you both walk to the Quidditch Pitch. You tense at the sound of his name. "He wants me to make sure you're doing okay." She continues when you just wish wouldn't.

"Never been better, Lil" You lie, fidgeting with your Gryffindor scarf and adjusting your hat. "You can tell him that the next time you see him." You say, voice as unemotional as you can manage.

"You should tell him yourself, after his game." Lily tries to explain softly, "He misses you. He probably hasn't come up to you because he wants to give you space since — you know."

You cringe, wishing you hadn't told Lily about your kiss with James.

"Yeah, I know." You whisper. You feel like a broken record repeating the same words in an endless circle, "It was stupid, it didn't mean a thing, he doesn't see me as anything more than a friend", so you stay quiet until you find decent seats in the stands.

Lily didn't mention Remus would be with Marlene so when you see him, nose buried in a book, hair falling around his face, you almost turn around.

"Y/n/n?" Remus calls. He stands and looks at you so kindly you feel guilty, "Hi." He seems happy you didn't run away from him.

"Hi." You say, hesitantly walking next to him and grasping the edge of the stands with your hands until you kind of feel the splinters in your palm.

A moment of silence passes and then Remus says, "Congrats on the top score in Charms, yesterday. Pads, Prongs, and I were extremely proud." He's trying to sound normal and you feel a little better that he didn't mention the reason you've been ignoring him.

"Thanks." You smile, which earns you a smile from Remus too. However, your attention is pulled away by the teams being called out.

You feel a little nauseous when you see James fly onto the pitch. He does an obnoxious little trick on his broom and then waves but it's painfully obvious in his eyes he's searching for someone in the crowd. When they land on you, his smile falters as you snap your entire head away from him.

When the game starts, you try to look at other players but you're drawn to him. In fact, by half-time you're so immersed in the way James glides around in the air, hair messier and messier, that you don't realize one of the bludgers is whizzing directly towards you.

Remus shouts your name as time stands still. Your instinct is to turn your head and squeeze your eyes shut. You prepare yourself to feel something hit you, but instead all you feel is someone's nails skimming your cheek as the students around you gasp.

Your eyes open just in time to see James fall to the ground, broom crashing onto the grass without him, as his arms hold the bludger. He hits his head with a smack and rolls onto his stomach.

Entire rows of students are on their feet now, eyes wide, as James wrestles with the rogue bludger, which squirms against him.

As if in a trance, your fingers press on your cheek where James must have accidentally scratched you when he flew in to snatch the bludger. You hear the whistles and shouts from the teachers and the next thing you know, you're sitting in the hospital wing with James next to you.

He presses an ice pack to his temple and then holds it out to you. You look at him timidly and shake your head.

"What happened out there?" You ask, breaking the awkward tension.

"Oh, um, someone must have enchanted the bludger and it went crazy. Happens sometimes. Ravenclaws are cheaters." He grimaces as he applies more pressure to his head.

"Does it hurt?" You look at him more closely.

James sends you a familiar smirk, "Yeah and if I puke from my concussion, I'll make sure I puke on you."

"Pass." You retort immediately, scrunching your nose with a chuckle. For a moment, you both overlook what happened between you two and it almost feels like normal.

"You don't understand how much I missed that." James points out, dramatically flopping onto his back on the mattress. You turn and raise your eyebrows,

"What?"

"Your laugh. You." He admits. You feel faint.

Still, you lay down next to him and cross your arms over your stomach, "Yeah." Is all you say because you don't know what else you can say.

"Our kiss doesn't have to count." He blurts out in a very James fashion and you turn your head a little to look at him. He has a lip in his mouth and his eyebrows are furrowed. You feel an ache in your chest at his words and you whisper,

"Why?" You find yourself asking.

James looks at you now, your noses almost touching, "Because, I want your first kiss to be with someone special, Y/n. Not with a boy who couldn't even bring himself to kiss you back." His laugh sounds gloomy.

Your cheeks start to burn and you look at the ceiling, "It's my fault. I was a little drunk and I completely ambushed you. It was wrong and I'm sorry."

You can hear the silence. James pauses, "Why have you been avoiding me?" He sounds hurt and it's his comment that finally makes you realize just how much you'd been hurting your best friends over this last week.

"I've been embarrassed." You cover your face with your hands.

"I don't want you to be embarrassed." He sits up and you do the same as James starts to ramble, "I- listen - I just need to know, do you like me, Y/n?"

You're a little taken aback by the question, "Of course I like you, James. You're my best friend." It doesn't even cross your mind that he could mean romantically.

He frowns, "No, that's not what I mean." You're extra aware of your heart suddenly, "Why did you want me as your first kiss?"

You remember all the times James has been the only boy you've ever wanted to kiss. Like the time in first year when he'd been the only one to stand up to the bulky fifth year that had called you a mudblood in the courtyard. Or your birthday picnic in fourth year, where James spent hours making flapjacks because you'd mentioned in passing that they were your favorite childhood dessert.

How could you not want him as your first kiss?

You lay back on the bed and turn your head. Slowly, James follows until you're so close again, "I - I'm not exactly sure." You admit, "I don't think I even imagined my first kiss with anyone else." Something shifts in the air as you can see in James's eyes that he understands exactly what you want to say.

"Oh." James whispers. You both subconsciously move in closer.

"Yeah." You mumble, eyes fluttering as your noses brush.

"So, can I kiss you again?" He asks, breathlessly.

"Yes." You say and feel him gently caress your cheek with his knuckles. When you kiss, it's so different than when you first kissed him. This time, he's actually kissing you back. His lips are velvety and the way he moves them makes you feel dizzy. It's surreal to have him in this way.

"I've wanted you to kiss me for so long." James admits breathlessly between the kiss.

"Really?" You pull away.

"Yeah. It was quite pathetic really." He laughs in embarrassment.

"Why didn't you try?" You ask, looking at him and tracing his jawline with your index.

"I don't know. I was too nervous." James frowns, "But, I'm happy you kissed me – even if it certainly was a surprise."

"Yeah, I'm sorry." You say bashfully.

James kisses you again, his hand on your cheek, "No. No sorries anymore. Just kisses."

"Okay," You smile, "I can do that."

* * *

You and James have managed to keep your new relationship secret for a while. Well, until two weeks later, when the boys invite everyone over to their dorm for a small party.

You sit next to James, his hand resting behind you, as your friends continue to laugh in drunken amusement.

"Okay, who's spinning this baby first?" Sirius slurs, excitedly, as he sets the empty glass bottle in the center of you all, "Doll, you don't have to play if you don't wanna." He looks at you sympathetically.

You smile at Sirius, "I wanna spin it." You lean forward on your hands and before anyone can even think to protest, you spin the bottle.

"Y/n," James stutters out but his words fail in his throat when he sees you intentionally hold the nose of the bottle to point at him.

You look up and smirk, "Oups." You tease with a wink and return to sit cross-cross next to James.

Your boyfriend smiles and gently turns your head with his hand on your chin. He presses a kiss to your lips. They taste like cherry liquor and you feel him relax. You kiss him once more before you let him pull away and the silence in the room is deafening.

"I think we definitely missed something, mates." Sirius whispers to the others and then he turns to you and James and asks, "Are you spinning, Prongs?"

James kisses your cheek and then looks up at his friend, "Does it look like I wanna spin, Pads?" Sirius shakes his head awkwardly and James continues, "Y/n and I will sit this game out."

He stands and helps you up. You stumble into him a little, a wide smile on your lips, and wave to your friends as James walks you out the door and into the Common Room.

All you hear before the door shuts is Remus's small, "Fucking finally." followed by soft chuckles.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Shhh...Just A Little Bit More

Part Three (Soft Version)

DBF!Joel x Female!Reader - 18+

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 (Spicy Version)

Summary: Joel Miller caught you working where you shouldn't be after you promised to quit. Now he's taking matters into his own hands. Word Count 4.7k

CW: DBF!, Dom!, SoftDom!, use of nicknames (baby, sweet pea, baby girl etc.), Sub/Dom, DD/LG, use of a collar, use of toys. no use of y/n. no description of reader except for piercings. Praise, degradation. After care.

AN: THANK YOU for all your love on parts 1 and 2. I was in my feels when I wrote this, so this is the sweeter version of the two. I'd love to hear which version you preferred!

“Hey, buddy. It’s Joel.”

“Joel?” You can hear your dad’s muffled and panicked voice through the receiver. “Where’s my daughter? Why do you have her phone? It’s 5 am!” 

“Remember that time Sarah ran away to your house and you told me that one day I might be doing the same for you?” 

Your dad is silent for a while, a distorted higher pitched voice filters through before you hear your dad again, “It’s alright honey. She’s with Joel.” He lets out a deep sigh before adding, “I thought we skipped the rebellious phase with her.”

“She’s a good girl. I think she just needs some time to cool off.” Joel says, his voice is friendly and light.

You squeeze your thighs together and nuzzle deeper into Joel’s throat. You know what you need, and it isn’t to cool off. He and your dad have been friends since the day he moved in down the street. You were seven and Sarah was eleven, you thought she was the coolest person on the planet. Wonder what she’d think of you now, cuddled up against her dad after he just edged the fuck out of you after spanking you in an alleyway. You’re lost in your thoughts as Joel talks with your parents for a while.

A sane person would stop being so turned on right now. Fuck, I need Joel. So badly. Maybe I should rile him up some more. 

“I’ll come by this afternoon,” Joel hugs you tighter, bringing you back to the conversation. “Ya, if she wants to, I’ll bring her. She’s ok, just never seen her more - frustrated.” 

You squeeze his side, knowing he’s smirking about how frustrated and needy you truly are right now. He hangs up the phone and brings his lips to yours, kissing you harder this time. You moan into his mouth, hands roaming up his body to tangle in his hair. 

Holy shit, Joel Miller is kissing me. 

As you run your nails along his scalp he lets out a pleasurable sounding gasp. Oh, he likes that, he likes that very much. 

Got ya, you think to yourself. 

He pulls away to see you smiling at him. “This is why I usually tie naughty girls down,” his voice is completely different from how it was just moments ago. Deeper, more commanding, and it reverberates through you, right to your pussy. “Because they think they’ve found spots that will get them what they want. Let’s go home now, darlin’.” 

Joel’s front door has barely closed before he’s pushing you up against the wall, caged in by his arms and strong chest. 

Every bump on the drive home had you twitching, you tried your hardest not to gasp and moan but the combination of the gravel road, your insane state of heightened arousal, and the lack of underwear in your stiff denim shorts were all working against you. 

“Did you come on the drive home?” He says coldly, lips pressing against your neck, hitting that sweet soft spot just below your ear. 

“No, Joel,” you whine. 

His teeth graze your throat and you cry out, “It’s Mr Miller, don’t make me remind you again.” 

Your hands scramble for purchase as your knees start to give out, wrapping around the open flannel shirt he’s wearing over a fitted black t-shirt. 

“I’m sorry, Mr Miller. I don’t…” you trail off, you aren’t sure if you should say you’ve never been a sub before, at least not to someone this experienced. You don’t want him to stop, you love what happened tonight and you want him to show you and teach you what this all means. But even more so, you trust him to teach you. 

Joel stops kissing you, hands coming to your waist and lifting you so your eye level. When you wrap your legs around his trim waist you gasp out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Your poor cunt is begging for relief but you can’t barely stand your clit to be touched. His eyes look at you with concern. 

I deserve to go to hell if she tells me she’s a virgin. Fuck, you were so stupid when it comes to her. 

“I need you to finish that sentence, babygirl. You don’t what?” 

Your cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, so shy compared to that bratty girl who told him to kiss his ass. Joel has the gut sinking feeling that you might have him wrapped around your little finger already.

Dangerous.

Very very dangerous.

Not to mention stupid. 

“I’ve just..” you start, he brings his hands to cup your face, moving a few strands of stray hairs that are stuck to your lips. “I haven’t had a Dom before. I don’t know what to do or what to call you.” 

Cute, Joel thinks to himself, she’s so fucking cute right now. 

“Well babygirl, when we are playing like this you do what I tell you, and if you don’t like what I tell you, you use the safe word. Do you remember it?”

You nod, biting your lip as you whisper, “Cowboy.” 

His face lights up with pride and in that moment you realize you’ll do anything to have him look at you like that again. And when he throws in a gravelly, ‘good girl’, any inhibitions you had go out the window. You are a good girl, you want to be his good girl…forever. 

He continues, “And when we are playing you call me Mr Miller. Otherwise, you can call me whatever you’d like.” He places a light kiss on the tip of your nose and you melt a little more into him and the wall behind you. “Do you have any other questions, baby?” 

Do you know what it does to me when you call me baby? 

Or kiss my nose or forehead like you have? 

Can you spank me again? 

Can you make me come? 

Can I suck your dick? 

How do you feel about anal? 

“Umm,” you press your lips together, eyes taking in every little bit of his face, trying to memorize this moment. “How will I know when we are playing and when we aren’t?” 

Fuck, if this girl lets me put a collar on her I’m going to come in my pants and then propose. 

“There’s my smart girl,” he praises, his coffee and caramel coloured eyes washing over you. “We can have a symbol, something I give you when we play. And when you’re wearing it you’re mine.” His voice sounds full of passion all of a sudden, each work almost sears itself onto your heart. 

Your heart is pounding at what he’s implied and you’re almost sure he can hear it. “What kind of symbol?” 

He puts you down and then gets on one knee to untie your shoes and help you slip them off. His warm fingertips trail up your legs as he stands before taking your hand in his. With his large palm encasing yours, suddenly you feel safe and loved, your pussy flutters at the promise of him taking care of you in a way that only he can. You know you’re going to be ruined for all other men. 

He leads you to his bedroom and it’s nothing like you remember when you’d play hide and seek while Sarah babysat you. Gone is the old wooden furniture and mismatched bedding. Replaced with a black metal bed frame, along with matching bedside tables and dresser, and the fluffiest white sheets you’ve ever seen. You so badly want to just sink in and get naked with Joel. It looks like it would be like getting fucked on a cloud or cotton candy and those thoughts are only solidified when he tells you to sit before he heads to the closet doors. 

He slides the barn door of his large walk-in closet open. The room seems to wrap you up in Joel’s scent, warm and spicy with a hint of vanilla. As he walks into the closet he toes off his boots and then slides his flannel off, placing it on a hanger. It might be your very neglected pussy talking, but you swear you can see every muscle in his body underneath that shirt and you unconsciously spread your legs a little bit. He reaches up above the clothing and pulls out a black box with a lock on it and then looks at you mischievously as he pads back over to you. 

“Sometimes,” he says gently, “A dom will give their sub a collar. When it’s on, we’re playing. You belongs to me. When it’s off, we can just act how we normally would.” 

A collar, definitely not sure how you feel about that. You don’t want to be like a dog with a black leather collar around your neck. He slides the numbers to enter the combination and then flicks the clasp open. 

To your surprise, he pulls out a dainty golden chain. It almost looks like a bunch of yellow paper clips strung together, and there’s a tiny lock pendant on the end. He runs the thin links through his fingers before looking over at you. 

“You don’t have to do this, I can just take you home and we can go back to how things were. Ultimately, you always have the choice.” If a stranger could see the way he was looking at you right now, they’d never be able to tell he was capable of the spanking he gave you earlier. 

“You’ll stop if I say ‘cowboy’?” You say, voice cracking, nervous and excited energy fighting for first place. 

“Always, babygirl. I’m here to dominate you, but I’m also here to take care of you. A good dom will always take of their sub.” 

“Then I want to. Please, Mr Miller. Make me yours.” 

He almost growls as he pulls you to your feet. You squeal as he hoists you over his shoulder, his hands strong on the back of your thighs as he carries you to the floor-length mirror at the end of his closet. He stands behind you as he works the clasp, placing the thin gold collar around your neck and then doing it up. He’s so close that you can feel his cock harden at the sight of you as he officially makes you as his for the first time. Joel's thick fingers trace along the rings, he thumbs the little lock pendant before he grips your throat just below your jawline. He applies pressure to your pulse point as his now black eyes come to meet yours in the reflection and brings his lips to your ear. 

With a growling, rough whisper he says, “You have five seconds to get naked and lay in my bed with your legs spread as wide as you can.” 

The instant his hand releases, you sprint to his bed, stripping your clothes as you go. He counts to five with authority and after what happened his truck, and now this, you’re sure you’re never going to be able to count without getting turned on ever again. 

“Such an eager little thing, aren’t you?” 

Desperate to hear him praise you, you lay on your back, planting your feet on the bed before letting your knees fall open. 

“Straighten your legs and put your hands above your head.” You position your body how he says, even though you’re completely exposed to him his eyes stay locked on yours. “This is how I want you when we start playing. Exactly how you are now.” 

He grabs another box from his closet and places it on the foot of the bed, eyes travelling up your toned legs, “I’m going to show you what you’ll be going to work with inside of you tomorrow if you decide to stay there. I haven’t forgotten that you were a brat tonight.” 

He opens the box and pulls out a black U-shaped piece of silicone and lays it on your belly. “Do you know what this….” 

He stops mid-sentence, eyes lighting up as they rake over your tits. They dance from each nipple, taking in the tiny barbell and the thin hearts that encompass each one. “You are a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” 

“I like pain,” you whisper, throat going dry at the admission. 

“My little masochist,” he hums. “As I was saying, do you know that is?” He nods his head towards the little toy. 

You shake your head, “No, Mr Miller.” 

“That goes inside your gorgeous pussy. One part pushes on your g spot, the other on your clit. I have the remote.” He holds up a small plastic remote with a few shiny buttons.

“Oh,” you moan, your lips forming in the shape of the word, nipples getting harder at the thought.

“I will keep it turned on low enough that you will not come. In fact, it might be more like torture than pleasure.” His eyes are sparkling at the thought of you squirming for hours.

“But I don’t want to quit,” you whine. You’re a glutton for punishment and you know Joel will dish it out. 

“How long is your shift?” He says, picking up the toy, the graze of his fingers along your belly sends an electric current through your body. 

“Four hours,” your voice is husky with need. 

“I’m going to get some lube and then put this toy inside of you now, babygirl. We’ll see how long you can last. Is that okay?” 

“Of course, Mr Miller.” You try to sound confident but in the bright lights of his room, you can see how dark and serious he looks. 

He lubes up the toy and then swipes some lube through your folds. Your back arches off the bed and you let out a loud high pitched moan when he hits your clit. 

Fuck. I’m gonna come with the tiniest vibration and it’s probably going to hurt. 

“So wet. So swollen. My poor girl,” he says mockingly, he’s loving that you’ve been suffering and on edge since the minute you saw him in that alleyway. 

The toy slides in and the pressure just from the silicone alone sends the air whooshing out of your lungs. You’re gasping for breath, your clit feels like it’s being zapped with electricity and you immediately slam your thighs together and start to whimper. 

A small, almost evil sounding chuckle comes from Joel as he holds up the remote. “Ready?” 

“No,” you gasp, rolling onto your belly. “I can’t. Please don’t.” 

“Are you going to quit?” 

You cry out in frustration into one of his fluffy pillows and then whisper a sad, “no.” 

The vibrator comes to life and the most intense mix of pain and pleasure floods your body. He’s right, the sensation isn’t enough to make you come, just enough so that you know it’s there. You bury your face deeper in the pillows, curling yourself into the fetal position, back towards Joel, as you try to breathe normally. 

Joel strips down to his boxers before shutting off the lights. He slips into the sheets, covering you up along the way. “Good night, baby girl.” 

“What?” You gasp. “Mr Miller. I….oh god…I c-can’t. It’s on.” 

“You may as well get used to it. You’re going to work with it in tomorrow. No more talking. Go to sleep.” 

Joel lays on his back, one arm behind his head, the other palm spread out on his chest. You flip around to face him, the early morning sun lighting his profile. There’s no way you’re going to be able to sleep, you shift your legs around. 

Maybe if they’re spread I won’t feel the vibration as much. 

That doesn’t seem to work so instead you squeeze them together. More pressure might make you come and then you can finally get some rest. Joel looks over at you as you jerk around silently. 

“Come here,” he says, patting his chest. You cuddle into him, one leg draping over his warm body. The arm behind his head wraps around your naked body. He feels so soft but hard against you. You can’t help but hump against his hip bone. You’re right on the edge. So close to tipping over it and coming. So very close. 

“Baby, it hasn’t even been four minutes, how are you going to last four hours?” He’s taunting you, trying to get you to beg. “You’re pathetic.” 

You can feel sweat breaking out across your body. This is torture, was right. You hate that he was right, but you hate even more how much he’s loving it. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He pulls back to be able to look into your eyes. “What are you going to do for me if I make you come?” 

“Anything. Just. Please, Mr Miller.” You grind yourself into him harder, you’re so close that it’s almost unbearable. 

“Quit your job, baby girl.” He demands again. “I’ll tell your parents you’re going to work for me.” 

You start to pant as the pressure in your lower belly increases, you can feel wetness pooling inside of you, begging to be released. “I can’t take your money. Oh god - please - I ca-can’t. Hnnnnng. P-please.” 

A tear runs down your cheek and you’re not even sure why you’re crying, probably out of frustration.  

“You can. I’ll pay you to help around the house,” he holds up a hand, almost like he knows exactly what you’re doing today. “Not for the sex you’re guaranteed to get if you quit and come here.” He wipes the tear away and hikes his leg up to increase the pressure that’s already on the verge of making you pass out. 

Stars start to blur your vision as you whisper, “ok. I’ll quit.” 

Joel has you flipped onto your back, trapped under his weight before you can even register what’s happening. He’s kissing you deeply, tongue taking what it wants as your legs kick and shake under him. 

“Please!” You cry between kisses. 

His thick fingers slide between your puffy folds and the toy, you scream out as he pulls the toy from you. 

“Shhh…just a little bit more. I’m going to make it better,” he says gently, kissing down your neck, swirling his tongue around each nipple piercing. 

“Please. Please. Please, Mr Miller. Please. It hurts. I need, please.” You’re a mumbling mess and the words leaving your lips are practically incomprehensible. 

“I know. Relax baby. Breathe.” He says between kisses down your sternum, his tongue tracing your curves. When he finally settles in between your thighs he swallows hard, he wants to dive right in, make you drench his face as you come. “Look at me, darlin’.” 

His warm breath hits your pussy and you fight your hips from bucking up to his face as prop yourself up on an elbow and try to focus your eyesight on him. You didn’t know it was possible to be so turned on that you practically had tequila vision. 

His voice is serious yet calm as he says, “I’m going to make you come using my fingers and my tongue. Is that ok?” 

You nod your head and a faint ‘yes’, leaves your lips. 

“Can I lick and touch both the outside and inside of this beautiful, weeping, pussy?” 

His words from earlier echo through you. Ultimately, you always have the choice. 

Joel Miller would never do something you didn’t want and that sets your soul on fire. He cares. About you. Only you. Wants to do things for you. You are not a burden here. You are not a burden to him. 

“Yes, Mr Miller. Please. Touch me.” The room suddenly feels twenty degrees hotter, you can feel sweat beading on your skin. 

“What’s your safe word?” 

“Cowboy,” you hum, never taking your eyes away from his blown out obsidian gaze. 

“That’s my girl,” he says, sliding his ring and middle finger around your desperate entrance. You cry out, dropping your body to the bed. Pleasure. Overwhelming pleasure. “No no baby girl, eyes on me.” 

You somehow muster the strength to raise yourself onto shaky arms. His two strong fingers slide deep into your heat with minimal resistance and you immediately start gasping. Pleasure. Life altering, heart stopping pleasure. 

“Fuuuuck. Baby. So tight. Have you ever squirted before?” His cheeks are flushed with need. He might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

Your breasts rise and fall with your ragged breaths. You shake your head and moan out a ‘no’. 

He smiles down at your dripping cunt, “I can feel it. Gotta relax for me. Just breathe and let it happen.” 

Nerves flutter in your stomach and then he curls his fingers forward, putting so much pressure on a soft spongy spot that you didn’t know existed. On instinct, your knees try to close but his wide frame keeps you open. You yell his name to the ceiling, he knows he should punish you for not calling him Mr Miller but you look so goddamn beautiful as you start to fall apart. 

“Breathe baby,” he says as he curls his fingers once, twice, three more times. You can hear how wet you are and the pressure becomes unbearable. Stars blur your vision again, the walls of your pussy squeeze tightly around his fingers and then it’s just a blur. A blur of all consuming pleasure. 

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Come for me. Soak me. Good girl,” Joel’s free hand pressed down on your mound as a wet heat leaks all over you. “Good fuckin’ girl. Let go for me.” 

You’re not sure if you’re screaming or not, all you hear and feel is Joel. Everything is Joel. Strong hands, deep gravel voice, warm vanilla smell. He’s everywhere and you never want it to stop. 

“Keep going. That’s it. You look so beautiful,” he says, licking a long stripe up your fluttering pussy, drinking up your juices. “Oooh yeah - gooood giiirrll”

Almost immediately after your orgasm crests it becomes too much. You’re so overstimulated that it hurts and your moans of pleasure become cries of pain. You forget your name, where you are, you even forget your safe word. But Joel knows, he always knows. 

He stops pumping his fingers and says your name, “look at me sweet pea.”

You blink slowly, you’re wrecked, barely able to keep your eyelids open, almost convinced they’ve been replaced with steel. You’re sucking in air, did you not breathe that entire time? 

“Breathe baby, you’re ok.” He says, stilling his fingers until you’re ready. 

“I’m sorry, Mr Miller. I know I called you Joel. I won’t do it again.” 

There she goes again, being so fucking cute. “It’s ok, darlin’ girl. I want you to let loose when you come.” He places a few light kisses along your thighs. The sheets and his t-shirt a soaked, he’ll need to change things before you both get some sleep. “I’m gonna pull my fingers out.” 

You fall back to the bed and fist the sheets to ground yourself as he slides his fingers out. “You did such a good job. Made a huge mess. I’m so proud of you, babygirl.”

Every bone and muscle in your body seems to have dissolved and all you can muster is a weak smile and a little whimper of thanks. “I need to get you cleaned up. Stay here.” 

Stay here? I have no bones. Where else will go? 

The sound of running water coaxes your eyes to close. The mattress shifts under Joel’s weight as he sits beside you, lightly trailing his finger down the bridge of your nose. “I’m going to carry you to the shower. Ok?” 

You let out an agreeable hum as he scoops you into his arms. His warm naked chest pressed against you. He walks into the shower with you, the steam warming your skin. He places you on your feet and guides you under the water with him. Water is hitting you from all angles. You open your eyes to see 3 showerheads in his large, modern glass shower. A large rainfall one above the two of you, then two down the wall. The bundle of fresh eucalyptus hanging from one head fills the shower with a fresh scent. 

His fingers fumble with the clasp of your collar behind you, “how are you feeling after what happened tonight?” 

You smile at the white and black tiled wall as the collar slides off your neck and into Joel’s hands. “Mmm - like I’m not gonna quit my job so we can do it again.” 

“Don’t think I won’t put this on again right now and make you regret that.” 

You giggle and press your body back into Joel’s. He’s completely naked behind you and you have the sudden urge to taste him. As you spin around and get to your knees he stops you, “don’t interrupt my aftercare, please.” 

“Your what?” 

He grabs the soap and a fresh wash cloth and starts to work it to lather. “I told you, it’s my job to take care of you.” It’s too early to admit it to you, but aftercare is Joel’s favourite part. He’s grumpy and rough on the outside, but he loves the tender moments after playing with his subs. Especially you, and that’s something he won’t even admit to himself yet. 

He runs the soft cloth over your arms and chest, using extra caution not to catch on your nipple piercings. I like these,” he says, eyes memorizing every inch of the skin he’s washing. 

“Thanks, you’re actually the first person to see them.” 

“That right?” He moves the cloth down your stomach before kneeling in front of you and washing your legs. “You know what I think you should pierce next?” 

“I have an appointment next week for something,” you tease. It’s not a lie, you have an appointment to get a second hole in each earlobe, but may as well play with him a little. 

“Oh? Don’t tease an old man like that, baby girl. What new surprise am I gonna find?” He brings the cloth up and down your other leg. 

“What do you want to find?” 

His hands grip your hips and he spins you around. You have a small bruise forming on your one ass cheek and his cock jumps at the sight. “Belly button,” he says. 

“Oh?” You say with surprise as he stands behind you and scrubs your back. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and add, “I was thinking of doing my clit.” 

Joel’s hands come to his heart as he moans. “Fuck me, baby girl. I’d have to leave the god damn continent until it healed.” 

You laugh as he brings his lips to yours. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that you aren’t wearing a collar. But he’s kissing you and washing your body. Does this mean that Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, might have the same sort of feelings that you have? Or is this just what he does with his subs after dehydrating them with his fingers and tongue. 

“Stay in the warm water while I change the sheets. I’ll be back,” you look over your shoulder to finally take in his naked body. His back is lined with corded muscle, water droplets filling the dips and grooves of his sculpted body. It looks like you could bounce your whole fucking bank account off his round ass. 

Am I salivating. I feel like I’m salivating. 

He wraps a white bath sheet around his waist before you get to see his front - as much as you loved being taken care of earlier you should have looked down. You run some shampoo and conditioner through your hair, rinsing it out just as Joel comes back, now in a pair of fitted boxer briefs. He holds up a towel for you, and after turning off the water you pad over to him for him to wrap you up and gently dry you off. 

“Thank you, Mr Miller,” you say instinctively. 

He smiles softly at you as he dries every inch of your skin. “Go lay down, babygirl. I’ll get some lotion and then you need to get some sleep.” 

When you walk out to his bed there’s a t-shirt and a bottle of water on the pillow for you. 

Fuck. I’m in love. 

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[ivorysfilms]

dating patrick hockstetter headcanons (MOVIE)

- this man is the LIGHTEST sleeper you will ever meet, like.. it’s kinda scary sometimes, you’ll accidentally knock something over and when you turn back around he’ll be sitting up and staring into your soul

- he def smells like some type of cologne that his mom bought for him and forces him to wear, burning stuff obvi and hairspray

- his mom is a christian(book reference) so expect to see him in church every sunday in his preppy dress shirt and tie

- he thought michael jackson was attractive when he was younger and whenever his mom brings it up he gets super pissed off

- he’s definitely not a mama’s boy or anything, he literally forgets her name sometimes but he favors her over his dad

- this mf has a hair pulling kink i CALL it, his hair is so pretty to not be pulled at

- his laugh is SO high pitched (as if his voice isn’t already but yk) i saw a behind the scenes and owen teague’s laugh is so silly in it

- okay so about his hair again it’s too pretty for him to not care about it so i fear he wraps it in a towel when he gets out of the shower and treats it like a baby(NOT like he would in the book guys..)

- he probably has gotten arrested like once or twice or at least told off by henry’s dad for setting things on fire around town with his “flamethrower”

- this mangy ass is weak as hell he can barely lift weights without falling like a damsel in distress to the ground

- ew he probably comes up behind you and goes ‘guess who!’ OR he wraps his arm around your neck like your a frat boy buddy

- he cannot dance so if he’s at a party or someplace with music he’ll just head-bang and jump

- he probably has insomnia so he gets up at like three in the morning and wanders around the house like this:

- he definitely enjoys graffiti and likes to spray paint random buildings in derry but he probably isn’t good at it so he’ll probably just write something like ‘penis’ or paints all over actual graffiti art

- i think he’s definitely more of a cat guy then dog because he has the personality and agility of one or if it came to any exotic animals he’d be a ferret

- will chase you around with dead bugs or mice if you’re afraid of either (HE DIDN’T KILL THEM) that’s book only guys

- he’s definitely more of a cigarette guy than a alcoholic but once in a while he’ll get shitfaced with the gang(you have to pick him up after)

- will give you any of his clothes, bracelets, rings, just ask. he loves seeing you in his stuff it’s like the equivalent of you in a collar that says his name

- he LOVES sushi, most likely because his mom cooked it a lot during his child years, but will beg to grab some while belch is driving, usually they do get it but they stop somewhere else because henry will shit his pants if he eats it(he hates it)

- MANSPREADS

- allows you to do his makeup or paint his nails if you’re on the girlier side, but if not he likes when you do his skincare

- i feel like the song that plays when the bowers gang is first introduced on screen (love removal machine by the cult) is the type of music he enjoys or that is his favorite song. he likes grungy/metal teenage boy music yk

FIRST POST EVER COMPLETED??? OH YAYAYAYA

who was gonna tell me trying to add your own gifs was such a struggle.. “gif to big!” THATS WHAT SHE SAID like stfu and let me add the dang gif

[crguang]

games people play

You belong on the stage, you think, under blinding lights and at the forefront of an applauding audience. Most importantly, you only care to play along if Kafka stars in the play right alongside you.

afab!reader, kinda fluffy actually, smut, toys used, kafka is strapped and im not talking about the gun, dom!kafka, sub!bratty reader, some edging, rope play, kinda possessive kafka, 6.3k words…

A/N: this got away from me. i have nothing to say for myself.

Infiltration missions are your favorite; slipping into another person’s skin for a few hours, coming up with traits both obnoxious and serious in nature and performing in front of a naive, ignorant audience fills you with exhilaration.

Improvisation is even better, the anxiety of making up things on the fly feels like a hundred little bees buzzing in your stomach and you’ve grown so accustomed to its uneasiness by now that you often seek it out, it’s become a sort of addiction. Your team doesn’t understand— Silver Wolf prefers causing trouble from behind a screen and away from the action unless she needs to stretch her legs, Blade has too much on his mind to bother adding different characters into the mix, Firefly dreams to only live as herself. None of them share your excitement for acting and it would have been a great disappointment if it wasn’t for Kafka. Beautiful, guarded, eccentric Kafka. Constantly in search of adrenaline and always in movement, she is the only other member of your little illicit troupe of performers. Being with her is often the same as stepping on stage, what with all the half-truths and misleading statements, she is hidden under layers of costumes sometimes extravagant and other times impressively mundane. Even now, if she truly wishes to keep you at bay, you won’t be able to read her. It’s intoxicating. She plays you like the lines of a movie and together, under glaring lights and unsuspecting spectators, you dominate the stage.

You’re clasping the buttons of your shirt at the wrists, often slipping and having to start over, but despite the faint feeling of annoyance as you get dressed, you’re excited. Another evening of performing is ahead of you and it’s in times like this where you truly enjoy the work of the Stellaron Hunters. Having to blend in, to navigate a crowd of arrogant businessmen and pretentious admirers of the arts in order to steal the prized item of this auction feels like a scene straight out of a spy movie. What’s better is that you’re not meant to do this alone; Silver Wolf will be on comms as usual, hacking into the building to assure that the infiltration goes smoothly and Kafka will be right by your side, gloved hand in yours. Pre-performance jitters tingle your fingertips and toes. The sensation is welcome.

You tuck your shirt into your slacks and buckle the belt around your waist. You can hear shuffling and rummaging from the bathroom connected to the bedroom because of its open door. You pick the tie you laid out on the bed with the rest of your outfit earlier and wrap it around your neck, fiddling with it for some time before accepting the fact that you have no idea how to tie a tie and letting out a sigh of frustration. This is your first time wearing such a professional-looking suit complete with the loafers and tie, and you don’t know how to feel about it. It was slightly altered by your request, so it isn’t uncomfortable, just unfamiliar. You stand in front of the full length mirror with your undone tie, turning this way and that. Your hair is done in a style you like and with the shoes on you have to admit that you look nice.

You hear the faucet being turned on in the bathroom and stalk towards it.

“Can you tie this for me?” You ask as you step inside and glance at the mess of beauty products on the counter. Some of them are yours used in your hair, but most are Kafka’s. This is her room, after all.

Kafka’s applying a thin coat of mascara on her lashes when you walk in, focused on her reflection in the mirror. She doesn’t spare you a glance until she puts the brush back into its tube, flutters her eyelashes a couple times and deems her work perfect. She turns to you, an amused smile growing on her lips at the tie resting around your neck.

“Don’t know how?” Kafka steps into your space and runs her fingers over the fabric. She starts to loop it around and over itself as you stand.

“Never had to learn.”

From this close, you can appreciate the eyeshadow at the corner of her eyes and the highlights on the apple of her cheeks. She hasn’t put on perfume yet or finished doing her lips, but she’s dressed in a form-fitting dark magenta dress that ends a little above her ankles, with thin straps and an open back. You feel no shame observing her backside through the mirror since she’s facing away from it. She’s stupidly gorgeous; you bring your eyes back to the dangling pearl earrings in her ears and the few strands of hair that cover them. If for some reason she stands out from the crowd tonight, it’ll be because she’s the most beautiful person in the room.

Kafka finishes tying your tie and pats your chest twice. She steps back and looks you over with a hum and a couple knuckles under her chin. When her gaze travels back up to meet yours, you catch a shimmer of appreciation in it.

“Well, you look dashing,” she says, her eyes following the movements of your hands as you smooth out your shirt.

You grin playfully, approaching her to lightly rest your hands on her waist. “The suit is doing it for you, isn’t it?”

Kafka lifts your chin with two fingers. “It is.”

Her honesty makes you huff out a laugh and the smile on her lips grows somewhat at the sound.

“I’ll have to come up with excuses to get you to wear it more often.”

“You could just ask.”

“That’s boring.”

You roll your eyes, glancing at the watch on your left wrist. “We have to meet Silver Wolf outside in 20 minutes.” You lean forward to plant a chaste kiss on her lips before letting go and leaving her to her makeup.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re shrugging on your coat when Kafka emerges from the bathroom to clasp a necklace around her neck and put on her heels. She carefully handles her own coat as she takes it out of the closet, putting it over her shoulders to complete her look. Her hair is secured in a low ponytail, as usual. The chain of her pendant rests between her breasts and the low neckline of her dress draws your attention to her chest for half a minute while you wait for her near the door.

You meet up with Silver Wolf with two minutes to spare and set off for the venue. It’s this city’s grandest museum, its marble columns can be seen from a distance as you approach in car. The streets are bustling with activity, glowing lights are shining on skyscrapers and stores have their doors open to assure a healthy flow for the customers coming in and out of them. The arts are greatly valued here, it shows in the pristine buildings and advertisements all around. You know it’s only because this is a richer neighborhood and surmise that the rest of the city doesn’t look as well put together. The ride to the museum is filled with Silver Wolf’s rock music in the speakers. Everything is in place, the comms she gave you are installed and all that’s left is to put on a show that the audience won’t forget.

Silver Wolf acts as your valet when you reach the venue and step out of the car, Kafka’s hand in yours. She slips into the driver’s seat and drives off to park somewhere close and inconspicuous. She’ll be supervising the mission from the back seat while the two of you do the heavy lifting.

Kafka curls a hand around your arm as you walk up the steps of the museum. You feel a little smug knowing that she’s here with you, at your arm. Getting inside is child’s play; your invitations are checked and the metal detector is no match for Silver Wolf’s genius tech, not that you’d ever tell her that. The interior is as impressive as its outside, with high ceilings, ceramic floors and precious artifacts displayed inside tall glass cases. You and Kafka make your way to where the Attouine Universal Auction will take place in one system hour, stopping to mingle with previously chosen targets on the way. You mingle among the upper crust, politicians, businessmen, academics alike so that Kafka can use her Spirit Whisper on them. The guest list isn’t large, only up to a total of 67 people, including you two. Lying to them is easy, pretending to be in love with Kafka is easier and you’re actually having fun half an hour in.

Kafka doesn’t let you do all the talking, she has no issue following your train of thought and assuring her advantage in the conversation. It’s admirable and effortless, you don’t get tired of seeing her in action. She has a champagne flute in one hand, occasionally pensively stirring the clear liquid inside. Her smile is rehearsed and comes as naturally as breathing when a couple sparks up a conversation with you. You’re happy to play along in front of the short woman and her husband, judging by the wedding band on her finger.

“What a beautiful pair you two make,” the brunette says, an air of forced politeness about her. She seems a little out of place, like she’s not used to these kinds of events. You guess that she’s only accompanying her husband to them and that he’s actually the one with recognition.

Her husband, however, stands with his chin high and his shoulders straight. He belongs there, or believes he does, and makes a show of showing everyone else.

You take Kafka’s hand in yours and bring it to your lips. “Thank you. She’s a diamond, isn’t she?”

The man follows the motion with his eyes but his wife replies before he can open his mouth. You hear Silver Wolf gag over the comms.

“Oh, how cute! Have you been together long?”

“A year, just about,” Kafka answers, looking at you. “This one’s always a charmer.”

“I can see that!”

You smile. “I’ve got to keep you around somehow… I’m aware of what a blessing you are.”

A sparkle of amusement shines in Kafka’s eyes, the corner of her mouth lifting ever so slightly at your cheesy reply. You maintain your facade, but you also feel like laughing at how silly you sound. It’s not an untrue statement per se… it’s just weird to say such things out loud because all the both of you do is beat around the bush when it comes to genuine emotion. You’re playing a character but it feels a little like the lines between fiction and reality are blurring.

In your ear, Silver Wolf groans, “One more corny line and you’re getting muted. You both disgust me.”

The woman poses a hand on her husband’s arm, addressing him while keeping her eyes on you. “They’re just like us, aren’t they, Len?”

Your gaze flickers to his at the mention of his name and he immediately looks away into the distance to pretend he wasn’t staring at the necklace between Kafka’s breasts. You feel a faint tinge of annoyance flare up inside your chest.

“Yes, very lovely,” he says, faking the unbothered tone of his voice.

You don’t know what offends you the most; his atrocious acting or his unashamed ogling.

“I notice neither of you are wearing rings,” the woman continues with interest. “Will things be made official in the near future, perhaps…?”

Kafka lets out a chuckle— you can tell it’s a genuine one— and turns to you with a teasing smirk, “Oh, I don’t know… will they?”

You feel the familiar sensation of bees in your belly as you’re put on the spot. All three of them expect your answer so you decide to play Kafka’s game. You meet her stare with the most innocent, lovesick look you can muster, your thumb rubbing the base of her ring finger. You find that you don’t have to try that hard.

“I don’t know about the near future, but… I know I’ve never been in love before knowing her.”

Kafka’s face doesn’t change, her meticulously practiced mask never slips, and you look at each other with equally heavy stares. Time seems to slow if only for the few seconds it takes for your new acquaintance to make an exaggerated sound of excitement. The moment breaks, you both look away at the same time and the conversation quickly resumes with pointless inquiries about your (fake?) relationship and the auction.

After some time, you glance at your watch and feel somewhat vindicated by the fact that the auction will start soon, giving you a reason to excuse yourself from the conversation. You’re also excited by what will happen next.

“It was nice meeting you both,” you offer the woman a smile and a nod, not dwelling on the blush of her cheeks, “but we have to find our seats. It’d be a shame to be all the way at the back with so many almost priceless items on display tonight.”

She laughs quietly and you miss the furtive look Kafka sends your way.

“Of course, of course…” The brunette sighs, then smiles sweetly. “Maybe we’ll end up seated next to each other.”

You don’t say anything to that. Kafka politely bids them goodbye and walks in the opposite direction, the hand laced with yours tugging you along. You meet with the rest of the guests, spark up short conversations from every corner of the room. Despite enjoying your performance, you find your audience lacking. Arrogance and pretentiousness reside in every business man, celebrity, political figure that you talk to and you quickly develop disdain for almost every person at this event. None of them deserve the social advantage that they have; you feel restless with the desire to humble them.

With each guest filing into the auction room until all the seats are filled, it’s time for the next part of the script to unfold. You take your seats at the front right near the small built-in stage. Two staff members carefully roll out the auction items as the auctioneer steps before the microphone and greets his audience. Kafka’s hand is on your knee, forefinger tracing insignificant patterns into the fabric of your pants while you wait for the last and most important item to be presented. The Stellaron, trapped inside a large, almost translucent mineral, emits an energy felt by the entire room as it’s brought on stage in a glass case. It glitters in the light like a precious jewel and catches the attention of each buyer. Kafka squeezes your knee once. It’s go time.

Stealing the Stellaron is laughably easy. Due to Kafka’s Spirit Whisper, not a single member of the audience can find the strength to stand up from their seat as you hop to your feet and saunter on stage. The auctioneer stammers about it not being allowed, but he’s dealt with just as the others are and soon, he’s frozen where he stands, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Confused murmurs and panicked shouts fill the air when the guests realize their predicament, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Kafka handles the Stellaron with care while you browse the selection of items on display with a pensive hum.

An antique vase catches your eye. It curves at the top and opens like a blooming flower; designs that mean nothing to you seem carved right into the glass, so you take it out if it’s case for a closer look. It’s a bit heavy despite measuring less than two feet. You decide to keep it and eventually gift it to Kafka knowing she would be able to find the beauty in it. As the clamor of people’s voices rise around you, an idea strikes you. You turn to Kafka.

“The script only said we would steal the Stellaron and leave the museum at 20:56 system time…”

A small smile appears on Kafka’s lips. “What are you thinking?”

“This place reeks of supposed social superiority,” you trail your fingers on top of a case containing an old ceramic disk with contrasting colors and patterns. You push it off the table and it explodes into cutting shards. Amidst the chaos, loud gasps of indignation follow. “I want to tear it down.”

Kafka’s smile widens.

Twenty minutes later, you’re on your way back to the base exactly as Elio foresaw, with Silver Wolf in the driver's seat making a quick getaway as the museum’s alarms sound behind you. You huff out a breathy laugh once in the back seat, heart thundering in your chest from the adrenaline. You had to incapacitate some security guards on the way out, the chase is your second favorite part. It feels great, your fingertips twitch with exhilaration as the car swerves between other vehicles on the road, ignoring red lights and stop signs. Kafka leans on the head rest next to you, looking at you with something you can’t fully decipher. In the darkness of the backseat it’s hard to read her gaze, especially with her contacts on, but you recognize the way her eyes flicker between yours, then to your mouth. She doesn’t have to say anything, your hands suddenly cup her cheeks and your lips crash into hers. The breath is knocked out of you with both her kiss and the lingering adrenaline. Her hand snakes around your neck to bring you closer, her teeth sink into your bottom lip when she pulls away for half a second. She’s rougher than usual with a sense of urgency accompanying her touches; her free fingers sneak under your coat to grip your shirt.

“Can you not?” Silver Wolf makes a noise of disgust and her sudden intervention pulls you out of the daze you were in. “I swear, I’ll crash this stupid car.”

Kafka chuckles, separating herself from you. Her hand stays beneath your coat. “Don’t be so dramatic. A mission well done deserves a proper celebration, don’t you think?”

“I don’t care what you do, as long as it’s not in front of me.”

“We’re behind you…” you mutter, inhaling deeply to calm your shaky hands.

You ignore the middle finger Silver Wolf sends your way. You lean into the seat, eyes closed, and regain full control of your body with a few slow breaths. Kafka’s hand trails down your shirt to your lap. As you turn your head to look at her, you find her gaze already on you. The unfamiliar glint in it is still present, seemingly making her irises darker, then the corners of her mouth lift in a softer smile than she’d normally offer you.

“Let’s play a round of Truth or Lie,” she says suddenly.

Apart from being a fun game you both enjoy, it’s somewhat become your way of discussing serious matters without having to lay yourselves bare. The existence of a lie adds a layer of protection that neither of you can go without. You tilt your head at the suggestion.

“Okay. You start.”

Kafka takes a few seconds to reply, as if thinking of how to phrase her question. You’re careful to school your features into a picture of neutrality so as to not be caught off guard. She hums, then speaks up.

“Did you mean what you said earlier, to that woman?”

You don’t need to ask for clarification on what she’s referring to. Though her smile hasn’t slipped off her face, Kafka’s expression is guarded.

“Am I that good a liar you couldn’t tell?” You tease, an eyebrow raised.

“Is that one of your questions?”

You look past her as you think. Yes, something in you meant what you said then. You recognize this certainty, it’s as real as the earlier thrill in your veins. Being with Kafka is never boring, always brings something new, and you’ve never felt this way before meeting her. It’s an electrifying feeling that travels from your toes to wake the rest of your body, not unlike a shock, except that this is something you can’t help but crave. Beyond the curtains of this beautiful stage you act in lies a sort of yearning for more of how she makes you feel, of her hand in yours as you reenact this rehearsed play of two emotionally guarded beings finding closeness in each other. Are you in love with her? Yes, you are.

“No,” you shake your head, “to answer your first question. I was in character.”

Kafka stares at you for a moment, searching your face for the truth. You smile at her.

“Mm. You turn.”

Your fingers fiddle with her hand on your lap. Silver Wolf takes a sharper turn than necessary and the car swerves to the right. “Are you disappointed by my answer?”

“…No. I’m not.”

You can’t read her at all. You suppose that’s the point of the game. You arrive at your destination before you can finish the round and Silver Wolf wastes no time in hopping out of the car and into the building. There’s a spring in your step as you follow suit with Kafka in tow.

You’re already working towards unbuttoning your coat and uncuffing your shirt when you step into Kafka’s dark room. She flicks the switch behind you, illuminating the room. She takes off her earrings and you take a seat on the bed after slipping out of your loafers. You stretch your arms above your head, letting out a long sigh. Kafka discards her jewelry on top of a dresser.

“You know…” she turns to you before leaning into the furniture and looking you over like she did earlier this evening. You stop loosening your tie as she speaks, lifting your head to meet her eyes. “You looked beautiful tonight.”

You feel a playful smile stretch your lips. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mm. You nearly had that poor woman combusting in place.”

Your brows furrow briefly as you recall the exchange. You viewed her interest as superficial, something she felt compelled to be because of how obviously uneasy social events of that nature made her. It showed in the way she clung to her husband and how clumsy she was at navigating the conversation. Still, Kafka’s words are laced with a tinge of possessiveness you almost never see in her. A smirk slowly spreads across your face.

“She had a husband,” you remind her.

“Who spent half the conversation looking at my chest. They likely had nothing between them. But you knew that.”

You did not. You genuinely thought she was overcompensating and were too busy playing a clip of her husband getting fatally injured over and over in your mind after catching his eyes on Kafka. It’s funny that she would think you were flirting on purpose, though.

Kafka takes slow strides towards you. She stands in front of you and a bare foot slides between your calves to nudge them apart. You take hold of her waist, looking up at her with an innocent smile.

“You liked the attention,” she states with a finger under your chin. She wears a smile as her other hand comes up to strike your hair.

“You sound jealous.”

Kafka laughs softly, fingers splaying out over your cheek. Her thumb soothingly rubs your skin. You resist the urge to close your eyes. “Cute. What’s there to be jealous of when you’re pliable in my hands?” Her knee sinks into the mattress between your legs and she leans closer. “A block of clay to be shaped and molded. That’s what you are.”

“And you’re so eager to put your hands on me, to have me for yourself that another woman laughing at my jokes tickles you.”

Her thumb traces the outline of your bottom lip. “Eager?”

“Like a pup.”

Her smile doesn’t waver. She pushes her digit past your lips and it gets caught between your teeth as you make a noise of surprise at the sudden intrusion. You relax after a second, your tongue swirling around her finger while you maintain eye contact with her. There’s a dangerous heat in the way she looks at you, an unsaid warning that you choose to ignore.

“Brat.” Kafka takes her thumb out of your mouth and observes how it shines in the light. “You know what I do with them, don’t you?”

“You fuck them?”

The smile on her face grows larger. The way she touches you is inherently condescending, the overly sweet strokes of your hair and fake gentleness as she cups your cheek and leans close to you as if to kiss you are subtle reminders of her control over you. You stare into her eyes with fluttering eyelashes.

“Sweet girls get orgasms. A brat like you, on the other hand…”

You feel her breath on your parted lips and expect a kiss that doesn’t come. Instead Kafka tears herself from you and straightens up. Your hands leave her waist as she takes a step back and brings her hand to her chin in contemplation.

“I think I’ll tie you up.”

She does just that. You bite your bottom lip to muffle a whine, wrists absentmindedly tugging against their pretty, silken restraints. Kafka’s ropes hold your arms above your head to each corner of the headboard and slightly dig into your skin the more your muscles struggle. She effortlessly ties you up like a lovely present before you can prepare a snarky remark. The pink webs obey her command, unlike you, and keep you in place while she climbs over you to leisurely undress you. She starts at your neck, loosening your tie to place wet kisses on your skin. Her teeth sink into your flesh and she is without remorse when you hiss at the sensation. She suckles the bite, her tongue occasionally darting out to soothe the mark in slow strokes. Her hands expertly undo the button of your shirt without needing to look at her work. You feel her warm tongue trailing down to your collarbone as she removes your shirt. One of her knees stays between your thighs, unmoving.

Kafka lifts her head to look at the reveal of your skin once your shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor. Her palms travel up and down your stomach, squeeze at the waist and knead your covered breasts over your bra, all the while following their movements with lidded eyes. You swallow. You don’t say a word because you know she’ll go even slower if pressured to pick up the pace, but your skin is hot and your cunt already pulses between your legs at her tame ministrations. Kafka pulls down the cup of your bra with a finger, freeing a hardened nipple.

“Erect already?” She teases. “I only took off your shirt.”

“Shut up,” the words leave your mouth without thinking and your lips part in surprise when she uses two fingers to harshly twist your nipple. “Ah!”

“Wanna try again?”

You take a breath. “Acting like I’m the eager one when I know you’ve already ruined your pan— Mmh!”

Pleasure courses through you as your nipple is pinched between her fingertips. Her hands run around your chest to unclasp your bra and toss it aside, then resume their work on your breasts. Her thumbs swipe over your nipples, applying pressure that pathetically quickens your breathing. Kafka licks her lips but doesn’t use her mouth on you. She watches how your plush mounds move under her hands and take whatever shape she wants them to. She grabs a handful of each breast, squeezing and kneading until you’re exhaling through your mouth. Then she slowly moves down to your hips, rubbing the skin. She has to adjust her position in order to take off your pants and she settles between your thighs once the task is done.

Your thighs spread apart to accommodate her body. Kafka looks up at you, amused, but doesn’t comment on the gesture. Her palms rub into your soft skin, trailing up and down your inner thighs. A dark spot spreads from where arousal dampens your gray underwear.

“If only you could see how wet you’re getting,” she sighs lustfully, “maybe we should do this in front of the mirror. What do you think?”

You bite the inside of your cheek at the suggestion. Kafka hooks a forefinger under your underwear and pulls to reveal your glistening sex. Her voice lowers perceivably.

“Mm? Is thinking about me fucking you in front of a mirror getting you all wet?”

Her index trails down your folds and touches your clit as it does, making you suck your lip into your mouth to keep in a low moan. Kafka observes her finger between your lips, how your arousal coats the better part of it as it teases your pussy. She’ll have you a complete sticky mess before the night is over. The thought makes her cunt clench. She slides your panties down your legs until they no longer hide your puffy pussy from her sight. She uses two fingers to spread your lips and looks up at you.

“If you were well-behaved, I’d be licking you clean right now. Too bad you’re not.”

You groan in slight frustration. “Come on. Just fuck me like you mean it.”

“Oh, I’ll fuck you.” Kafka’s eyes narrow. She pulls her fingers away from your cunt completely. “And when I do, you won’t be able to remember a thing but how good I feel inside you.”

Kafka stands upright, ignoring your little whine to rummage through her drawers instead. She picks up a couple of things and you’re breathless when you see the strap-on and vibrator in her hands as she returns to your side. Your thighs clench together in a fruitless attempt at relieving pressure in your lower belly. You feel your arousal on your inner thighs, coating them in sticky juices. Kafka waves a hand and silk threads wrap around your flesh, forcing you to keep your legs spread for her. You try to move but apart from the quiver of your muscles, nothing happens.

“You haven’t earned that one yet,” Kafka gestures with the plastic cock and tosses it on the bed. She turns the small vibrator over in her palm, messing around with the settings until she finally settles on the lowest one. It pulses as it’s pressed against your cunt and you don’t bother covering up the moan that escapes you. “This will do for now.”

The vibrations on your pussy are so good, so relieving you throw your head back with a breathy moan. You feel each one reverberate through your body and soon, your hips are trying to move along for more friction. You buck your hips, hoping the movement will make it touch your clit for even a second. Kafka watches your growing desperation with apathy. She runs the vibrator up and down your slit, purposely ignoring your aching clit. Positioning it at your entrance covers the head in arousal and she’s tempted to push it in just to see how your cunt greedily sucks in anything she gives you. She makes you suffer longer, caresses your labia with the toy and pulls it away when she sees you clench from the pleasure. With it being at the lowest setting, the throb is a welcomed sensation but isn’t enough to make you come. Trying to move your body is useless; the thin ropes around your limbs keep you exactly how Kafka wants you: defenseless.

You inhale sharply through your mouth as she rubs the toy into your cunt. You know begging won’t help your cause and will only serve to humiliate you. Pleading to her good conscience is just as worthless, but you need to come so badly and Kafka will only allow you to do it on her terms. So, you provoke her.

“That— Mmh, that woman from the auction,” you manage to breathe out, and Kafka instantly meets your eyes. “Bet… she’d be so eager to make me come if I asked.”

Kafka doesn’t move for a moment. The vibrator is still pressed against your pussy, making you let out little whines, but her hand isn’t moving and she’s simply looking at you like she’s trying to figure you out. You know she sees through you, your mind is too taken by the idea of pleasure to bother hiding yourself from her searching gaze. She seems to debate with herself on something and when you think she just won’t bite your bait, she turns off the vibrator. You watch as she stands to let her dress slip to the floor. Apprehension curls around your throat as she steps into the harness of the strap-on and adjusts it around her hips. Her silence makes your gut flutter with nervousness. Then she chuckles to herself and that only worsens the feeling.

Kafka hovers over you, fingers digging into your skin as she grabs your jaw and guides your gaze to hers. Her nails will surely leave crescent marks behind, but you can only focus on the dull pink of her irises. With her free hand, she guides the plastic cock between your folds, coating it in your slick and grazing your clit in the process. Your following moan is muffled by the grip on your jaw. She spreads your arousal over the dick, pumping it once, twice, three times before her sticky fingers grip your waist and she pushes half of the length into you at once.

You groan in surprise, unaccustomed to the sudden fullness. You feel the toy stretching your walls and Kafka doesn’t allow you to get used to the sensation before thrusting the entirety of it inside your fluttering cunt.

“Fuck, w— wait…” you gasp out, wrists struggling against the ropes and thighs trembling. “I was—” A whimper escapes you as Kafka pulls out almost completely just to drive into you again. “Was joking, baby…”

“Shut up and take it.”

You have no choice but to comply. Kafka thrusts into you, unrelenting and apathetic to the way the sensations overwhelm you instantly after so much teasing. Her dick rubs your walls deliciously and the wet sounds of it pounding into you has you choking out a cry. You don’t get used to the pace, it’s too rough, too fast, and has your orgasm building after only a minute of her inside you. You can’t last, not with Kafka playing you as rigorously as she does the violin, fingers digging into the flesh of your love handle for stability. You take her cock as she orders you to and whimper against her lips when she leans forward to press her mouth to yours for the first time tonight. Her kiss is as rough as her strokes, leaving you breathless, a mindless puppet only able to mutter her name. As her tongue enters your mouth to tease yours, the hand around your jaw leaves so that her middle finger harshly rubs your clit. It’s too much for you to handle at once. Your cunt swallows her cock as you come with her name out your lips, squeezing her like a vice.

Kafka doesn’t slow down her thrusts, fucking you through your orgasm and maintaining the pressure on your pulsing clit until you feel another one coming.

“Kafka—” You whine, throat hoarse, “too much…”

“Mmh? That’s what you wanted. Be grateful I didn’t leave you there, cunt aching for me to fill you. You’ll take what I give you.”

Her eyes drink you in, she commits your twisting brows and trembling lips to memory; her mind takes live pictures of you under her, whimpering as you greedily take her cock, until there’s an entire gallery of your fucked out expression inside her head. The sight makes her wetter and needy for release, but it’s not enough. With an arm around your shoulder and the use of her webs, Kafka manipulates your weak body into straddling her lap as she sits up on the bed. Your wrists are still tied together, your arms around her neck, but your thighs quiver as the ropes vanish around them. She holds you up with two hands on your hips and pushes you down onto her length. Your eyes are closed, your lips parted, and you let her guide you up and down her cock until you’re coming again. Kafka watches your slick slide down the dildo and groans, wishing she could pump her own cum into your cunt and watch it leak out of you as she fills you. The toy is drenched in cum and she doesn’t look away as it disappears inside your throbbing pussy, can’t; she feels her own slick run down her thighs just from watching how messy you’re getting her cock.

“Can’t take it,” you breathe out, “mmh…”

Kafka looks up at you. She briefly takes your nipple in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, before letting go and murmuring into your skin, “You can, baby. You’re taking me so well.”

You whine, hips faltering. The length of her cock buries into you in a harsh thrust upwards and you can’t make a sound as you come hard, your face in Kafka’s neck. Your arms shake from the pleasure that assaults you at once. Your toes curl and the breath leaves your lungs. Kafka doesn’t pull out as you come down from your high a panting mess. Your limbs feel twice as heavy. Her hand strokes your hair while you breathe in and out sharply. She gives you some time to calm down, then pulls you away from her neck with the hand in your hair and kisses you messily; you feel her tongue on your bottom lip and her saliva mix with yours. She breathes out into your open mouth, a low moan escaping her.

Kafka squeezes your hip and mutters into your mouth, “You’ll give me another one, won’t you?”

Though it’s phrased as one, you know it’s not a question at all. This is what you get for provoking her, and she won’t stop until she’s entirely satisfied.

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Show - Oct 30 - @rosekillermicrofic - 808 words - Warnings: none

“Will you please stop by Spellbinding Sound for me?” Pandora begged as soon as Evan picked up her call.

“‘Hello, Evan, my dearest brother,’” Evan said dryly. “I think you’re supposed to greet me at the very least before asking for a favor.”

Pandora sighed noisily. “I just need a new pack of reeds for my clarinet, and you know which ones to buy.”

Evan sighed back at her. “I suppose it is on the way home. I’ll drop by for you, if you make me dinner.”

“Deal,” Pandora said, hanging up immediately. Evan looked at his phone blankly, offended for a moment, before remembering she was probably in the middle of practicing when she called.

Spellbinding Sound was a small music supply shop that Pandora favored, and Evan had been sent there a few times on errands for her. He usually didn’t mind; the owner, an older man named Albus, was kind and patient. When Evan entered the store, though, he was already helping a customer.

“Would you like me to restring the instrument for you?” Albus was asking the man in front of him. The man was shorter than Evan, with dark, tousled hair and several face piercings: two on his lip, another on his eyebrow, another on his nose, too many to count on both ears. He was wearing a graphic band t-shirt over ripped-up jeans, a leather jacket slung over his shoulder. His bare arms were covered in tattoos, and they continued up his neck and down his hands. Evan found himself wondering where else the man was tattooed.

“No, thanks,” the man said in a smooth voice. “I like to do it myself.”

He picked up his strings, which Evan assumed were for some sort of guitar or bass for his punk band, based on the man’s appearance. The man nearly ran into Evan when he spun around and walked towards the door with a swift gait.

“My bad,” the man said, worrying one of the lip rings between his teeth for a moment. “I’m Barty.”

Confused as to why the man gave his name, Evan responded with his own. “Evan.”

Evan tried to step around Barty, but Barty stepped into his path again.

“You like music?” Barty asked, and before Evan could answer, he continued talking. “You should come to my show. Friday night at the Slytherin Stage. I hope I’ll see you there.”

Evan watched him walk out the door, raising both eyebrows at the man’s gall. Inviting him to a show was one thing, but leaving directly after the invite was just dramatic. Evan shook it off and stepped up to the counter and greeted Albus.

“Does Pandora need new reeds?” Albus asked knowingly, his eyes sparkling. Evan nodded. They chatted amicably while Albus grabbed the reeds for Evan, and processed the payment for them. Soon enough, Evan was on his way home to Pandora.

Evan didn’t even know why he was attending the concert. He wasn’t a punk music person — but something about Barty had made him want to learn more. Maybe it was his overconfidence or attractiveness, but Evan felt compelled to come to his show that evening. He was surprised that attendees were dressed so nicely, and he was glad that he had come directly after work, so he was still wearing his nice work slacks and a button-down shirt. As he took his seat in the audience, in a gorgeous emerald-green auditorium. He was starting to think he had greatly misread the man he’d spoken to, because there was no way he was about to see some sort of punk band performance.

Nerves flew in his stomach as he wondered what he had signed up for, just as the curtains pulled back and revealed an entire full symphony orchestra. Evan scanned the faces of every single person until he found Barty, sitting at the very front left. He was first chair violin, the goddamn concertmaster. Evan had him pegged completely wrong.

To make matters worse, Barty looked even more attractive in the emerald green suit and tie, with his instrument propped on his knee and his bow in his other hand. Evan had been so stupid to assume he played the guitar, when clearly Barty’s body had been made to hold the violin. The conductor raised his hands, and then lovely music filled the auditorium as the orchestra began.

Evan was entranced. He watched Barty throughout the entire performance, never taking his eyes off Barty’s graceful movements. He ended up lingering by the side stage, waiting for Barty after the show. When the man emerged, he looked surprised to see Evan there.

“You came,” he said softly, before seemingly shaking confidence back into himself. “You liked the show, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Evan said. “I really did.”

And then he stepped forward and kissed Barty.

[imasinnerimsorry]

The Break-In

Harry was on a business trip with a couple of co-workers, leaving his girlfriend all alone at her house. She begins to notice strange things going on around her until suddenly, everything becomes more intense.

SMUT; Kinks included: Gangbang (4 people), deep penetration, Daddy/Sir/Mister kinks, Squirting, Deepthroating, Dildos, Gaping, Anal, Oral, Creampies

The house was quiet. Too quiet. But there was Rani, filling the noise of the bathroom with some 2000s R&B music and humming along to Mary J. Blige as she finished her nighttime routine. She had a whole process: tie her hair into a bun and put a headband around her hairline so that her hair wouldn’t get in the way, remove her makeup if she had any on, wash her face, apply her moisturizer and essential oils, put on a face mask if she felt like it, put her bonnet on, and brush her teeth. She did this every night- same old thing on a different day.

But, tonight was different. Something about the air was off. It was almost as if someone was watching her…

She shrugged off that feeling, though, not wanting to get super paranoid before she went to bed. Anytime she had a worrying thought or even watched a scary movie before bed, she would always have nightmares. She didn’t have time for that because she had a date with her boyfriend tomorrow.

Her boyfriend, Harry, was such a great man. He was attentive to her every need. If Rani called him at 3 AM to cuddle, she’d hear a knock on her door at 3:15 with him being there behind it with a smile and loving eyes. He was attentive to her every need, want, and desire, whether it be at social events, in the comfort of their own home, or in the bedroom. Harry was just amazing. Her best boyfriend of all time.

Speaking of Rani’s every desire, she had a bucket list of every thing she wanted to do before she died. Everything thrilling like jumping out of a plane to everything kinky like having anal sex.  No one knew about this list or the contents of it. No one except Harry. He made a mental note of every single detail, from traveling to the Philippines to trying out a threesome. And he wanted to make sure she could check off aspects of that list by any means necessary.

But Harry was on a business trip with some of his favorite co-workers this weekend, so he unfortunately would not be at her beck-and-call like she would’ve wanted him to. And she really did want him to. She hated being alone on cold, dark nights like these. The moon was nowhere to be seen in the night sky as she looked up out her window, and she usually depended on its light to shine through and bless her with a good night’s rest. 

As she laid into her bed, she could hear creaking coming from the house. It was a breezy night, so she didn’t suspect anything of it. She didn’t live in the most modern home anyway, so creaks and cracks were expected. She lifted the covers over her body and tried to relax, her comforter covering her entire body from the neck down as the nightgown she was wearing wasn’t enough to keep her warm. 

Then, another creaking sound, only this time followed by a deep thud. Rani jolted as the thud’s vibration pounded through her chest. It sounded like something fell… on top of her house? But what? And how? 

Then another pound followed by another and another. It was a repeated action in a rhythm, but it was traveling from one side of the roof to the next. Almost as if it was the sound of… footsteps?

I must be trippin’, she thought. No way is someone walking on top of my house. On my roof… The disbelief turned into confusion as the footsteps increased in their sound as they got closer to her. Is that a human? A raccoon? I haven’t seen raccoons here before. But, how could a human even get up here? The confusion evolved to fear as another thud was heard. What am I gonna do if it’s a human? Who could that even be? I’m alone, no weapons, no help, no protection! What the fuck could I use as a weapon? 

The footprints stopped. And one more thud shook the house. Then footprints began again. Rani put all of the pieces together. Three thuds. Three sets of footprints. All coming her direction. On top of her house. There were three people trying to break in through the roof.

Her thoughts were stopped as the window flew open. She forgot to lock it shut. Again. Harry would always remind her to. Whoops.

All she could see were three tall human figures dressed in all black hop straight into the house before she covered her whole face with her comforter and screamed. The protection (or lack thereof) of the comforter was quickly gone as it was tugged from off of her bed and thrown to the side of the room. “No! Please!” she screamed out.

Rani quickly noticed three colored masks of the three figures in the room: pink, blue, and green. Each of the figures wore black clothing with padding, however, which sealed any sort of identification of their bodies that she could take note of. But Rani made sure that she didn’t stay still for too long, she knew she had to get out of there in some way. So she slowly inched herself off the bed when she noticed the three figures huddled up in the room speaking amongst each other about their game plan, as if they were some American football players. Their voices were deep, so she could probably infer they were all men. 

The blue masked figure turned his head to face Rani as he noticed her movement. “Stay on the bed, bitch!” He grabbed a hammer that was inside of a duffel bag that he snuck in with and lifted it over his shoulder as he walked over to Rani, who was quivering with fear as she slid herself back into the position she was in before on top of her bed. Her widened eyes couldn’t stop staring at him and the weapon that he had, but the figure only chuckled as he noticed her fear. “Scared little kitten, aren’t ya?” He teased her. Rani could only nod her head and gulp. He chuckled again and walked back to the other two men, continuing their conversation.

All of their voices had a robotic sound to them, and from the looks of it, the men were wearing voice changers under their masks to hide their identities. Smart move, but Rani knew this would give her a great deal of trouble when she would report them to the cops. If she ever could report them, that is. Who knew what these men would do with her after they were done with their business?

The one with the pink balaclava walked over to the edge of Rani’s bed and just stared at her. It felt as if his eyes bore a hole into her head as he did so. Then he looked at the other two masked men behind him. “I want you two to take everything you think is valuable. Leave the bag here. I’ll handle the girl first.” He turned to face Rani again, whose eyes were still widened and legs still trembling in fright. 

The other two men went down the hallway as they followed PInk’s instructions and Pink walked up to the side of the bed. The pace of his walk was slow, heavy and intimidating, yet almost calm? It was as if he wasn’t nervous at all about what was happening or what was about to happen. He was probably the seasoned mastermind of all of this, the one who had been through this before and had always succeeded, so he probably didn’t have a care in the world about the consequences. He came to get the job done, and that was it.

He stroked his latex-gloved hand down Rani’s temple and took her bonnet off. “Gorgeoussss,” he drew out from his lips like an exhale. Rani didn’t know how to react but whimper and turn her head away. But in the corner of her eye, she noticed the man reach his hand into his pocket and retrieve a bundle of rope. He didn’t say anything as he quickly jumped on top of her body and held her down. Rani tried to squirm and fight her way out of his grasp, but to no avail. “Shhh,” he coaxed her, as if that would help to calm her down. All it did was cause her heart to beat fast against his chest as he reached himself to her left arm with some rope and managed to tie her against one of the bedposts. He did the same with her other arm, and then he shuffled himself to her legs to tie them to their respective posts. The man still sat on top of her, legs spread around her waist and looked down at Rani like she was a finished sculpture of his that he was admiring. Like she was his best work. He ran his hands down her sides, her body still covered by her nightgown but skin feeling every bit of the latex on his gloves through her fabric. 

One of the other men, Green Mask, ran back with a trash bag which Rani could assume was filled with some of her belongings. She was annoyed at her not being able to fight back, but it’s not like she had any way of doing so. She stopped straining against her confinements, and the man with the pink mask rose from his position and walked towards the green mask. Rani watched as he shuffled through her bag, looking through all of the items. When he was satisfied, he nodded his head, and walked over to the duffel bag that was brought in with them. He said, his head pretty much shoved into the bag as he searched for everything he wanted, “Take the gown off.” 

Green Mask nodded in compliance and made his way to Rani. Just as Pink did before, Green pulled something out of his pocket, only this time it was a pocketknife. Rani connected the dots.

“Uh, no, no, no, no! You are not cutting this gown!!” She screamed.

“Would you prefer it if I ripped it off?” Despite the distorted sound that the voice changer gave him, his teasing tone pierced straight through.

Rani shook her head no and watched as the man brought the knife down to her body. He used the knife to tear through her gown, but he was meticulous about it, thankfully for Rani. Did he not want to potentially hurt her? Rani took note of his precision and carefulness as he wielded the knife- maybe it would be a helpful detail to remember for the police when this whole ordeal was over if she made it out alive.

Green Mask removed the fabric from her body, his eyes immediately widening in admiration of her naked figure. Rani was too embarrassed, so she tilted her head to move from the man’s gaze. His eyes were like scanners as they observed her entire body from head to toe. His mouth hung open a bit as if he were about to drool at the sight before him. “Look at these fuckin’ tits.” He used his hands to squeeze at them and give a slight tug to her nipples. “Can’t wait to have a taste of those,” he stated, causing Rani to whimper.

Blue Mask finally rushed back into the bedroom. “I have some good shit in he-” He paused, noticing Rani now naked and tied onto the bed, Green Mask’s gloved hands playing with her breasts. “Aw man, you guys started without me?”

Green Mask seemed to roll his eyes. His voice, robotic yet clearly annoyed, commented, “Well, we weren’t gonna wait for you. You took too long, and we don’t have all night.” One of his gloved hands rubbed against Rani’s bare inner thigh as he spoke. Rani wished she could close her legs due to this invasion of privacy, but alas.

Blue Mask rolled his eyes right back. “Whatever, Jake,” he said out of annoyance, but quickly coughed as he noticed the slip of Green’s name. “Alright, so what are we doing with the girl?”

The man with the pink balaclava, still shuffling through the duffel bag and dropping items onto the ground that Rani couldn’t see because of her position, responded nonchalantly, “We’re gonna play with her. Isn’t that right, Rani?”

Rani’s body turned cold at the sound of her name. “H-how did you know my name?”

Pink Mask laughed. “How wouldn’t I know your name? Your room is just plastered with it.” He wasn’t wrong. There were photos and journals with Rani’s name all over them. She didn’t think of that. Well, she didn’t even think of her house getting broken into and robbed one day, so it was a first time for everything.

“Well, Rani, you have a beautiful fuckin’ body.” Green Mask ran one of his hands up her thigh and near her cunt. “Pretty cunt, too.”

“Yeah, and it looks like she wants to play with us as well,” Blue Mask said, and by the direction his eyes were roaming in, Rani could tell he was staring directly at her pussy. She whimpered at the men’s wandering eyes, both of them looking at her as though they were predators hungry for their prey.

Green Mask’s hand snuck in between her labia, rubbing up and down, and the wetness immediately coated his fingers. He found her clit, swollen and needy, and began to rub his fingers on it in circles. The moist friction between his hand and her pussy emitted pornographic sounds from not only the wetness of her cunt, but also her mouth as it let out breathy moans and whimpers with each rotation of his hand. Rani’s eyes were closed through the ordeal because of her embarrassment and fear, but she could feel the eyes of the green masked-man piercing through her soul like daggers. She knew she was in for a long night.

The man with the blue balaclava walked over to the other side of Rani’s bed. Her head was already faced on the side he was walking to due to her not wanting to face Green Mask as he relentlessly rubbed her pussy, and Blue Mask took this as an opportunity to undo his black pants and throw them off to some corner of the room. His bulge was peeking through his briefs, precum seeping out in a little spot of the grey fabric, and Rani’s eyes teared up even more knowing what Blue’s next move was.

But Blue Mask smirked, and all he did was inch his covered bulge up to Rani’s mouth, and her saliva immediately started to smear onto it. “Gotta give you the appetizer before the main course, right?’” He stated as he watched Rani’s eyes look up at him in confusion. “Suck through the fabric, baby.”

Rani immediately began to suck onto the man’s underwear, her lips and tongue feeling the shape and size of his cock as she did so. Despite her fast and immediate movements, Rani wasn’t optimistic at all, she just wanted to do whatever the men wanted her to do, hoping that it would help her go through this situation easily and quickly. They obviously had weapons, reminding herself internally as she thought about the hammer that was just in the hands of the man whose boxers she’s now sucking through, or the knife that stuck through the pocket of the man currently twiddling at her clit.

Green Mask stopped his circular motions on her clit and slapped her cunt a couple of times, her wetness squirting out in little splashes as he did so. Her moans from Green’s actions vibrated through Blue Mask’s underwear and went straight to his length, making the rather dull experience of her sucking through his fabric a bit more pleasurable. Green stuck two of his fingers into Rani’s hole and began to thrust in and out her, sometimes curling them to stimulate her g-spot. Rani’s muffled moans against Blue’s bulge grew louder and therefore caused the vibrations against his cock to become more intense, making him moan alongside her.

“C’mon, I need you to cum for me fast like a good girl. We don’t have all night,” He stated as he picked up the pace of his fingers’ thrusts, adding another finger sneakily to stimulate the girl’s cunt even more. Rani’s moans against Blue’s bulge became even more muffled as she shoved her own face into him. Still flooded with embarrassment, her orgasm neared and she presumed that hiding her face from the men’s view would shed some of her fears away. Instead, it egged the men on to be more rough with her, Blue Mask now holding her by the back of her head further into his bulge preventing her from breathing while Green began to curl against her G-spot even faster. Rani’s body jolted not by much because of her constraints, but just enough for her to have a dramatic reaction as she orgasmed, her pussy leaking out more of her fluids onto Green’s gloved hand.

Green Mask released himself from the grasp of her cunt and sucked on each of his fingers, getting every taste of Rani’s arousal into his mouth. He looked over to Blue, who released Rani from his crotch and watched as she tried catching her breath. “Y’wanna switch places?” He questioned him, completely dismissing Rani’s existence despite her recent orgasm.

Immediately, Blue nodded his head. He explained, “Wanna taste the mess she made. I mean, the way she got your eyes rolling back, she must taste good, yeah?” 

Green nodded a yes as he wiped his saliva off his fingers onto Rani’s stomach, as if she was some sort of towel. She whimpered at the feeling, but the men didn’t even pay her any mind, almost as if she was, as they had said before, just some toy they were playing with. “And I wanna see how she takes cock in her mouth, how deep she can take one,” he said and smirked as he swapped places with Blue, the crotch of his pants now in front of Rani’s swollen, wet lips. “You can take cock, right, love?” He slapped at her face as he noticed her expression a bit dazed from her previous actions with Blue Mask. “Huh, you can take cock? Deep in that throat?” 

Rani nodded. “Uh-huh, uh-huh, yes, sir.” She gulped as she prepared herself physically and mentally for what the two men had in store for her next.

Green’s fingers then tugged at his pants’ zipper until it was fully unzipped, and he threw his pants and briefs in the same place Blue threw his. “Sir, hmm…” his lips turned into a smirk as he placed his tip onto her lips, his precum staining them, “I like that. Don’t you boys like the sound of that?”

Pink Mask chuckled from where he was, his eyes fully immersed in what was happening before him. His pants were down, Rani noticed, and his hand was wrapped around his cock. He must’ve finished going through the bag while the other men were hypnotizing her from both ends, she inferred. “Sir sounds lovely. Suits you well. I’m more of a ‘Daddy’ kind of guy. Hey,” he gestured over to Blue Mask, who was on his knees taking in the sight of Rani’s cunt before him, “What name do you want her to call you?” He handed a device over to Blue Mask, who smirked as he grasped the long object. Rani recognized it quickly- it was a Hitachi wand.

In the midst of thinking about his answer, he began slowly rubbing at Rani’s clit and gave her labia a little kitten lick. “Mm, how about Master?” He looked up at Rani, but his eyes widened as he recalled Rani’s skin color. “Uh, actually no, not Master. I’m not into the raceplay shit. Sorry ‘bout that.” He gave Rani’s clit a kiss and a lick, turning the wand on, before speaking again. “I guess Mister is better, right? Y’wanna call me Mister, babe?”

Rani was about to say yes, but ended up only nodding with a muffled moan coming from her mouth as Green Mask shoved his cock into it. Her eyes flooded with tears and flowed down her cheeks as he fucked her throat, his tip hitting so far back that she knew it would ache when he was done. Blue Mask took this as an opportunity to nudge the wand against his clit, causing Rani’s body to jolt again and throat to gag against Green’s cock.

Pink Mask went up to Rani and occupied himself by messing with her breasts. His thumb and index finger of both hands started to twist and pull at her nipples. The sounds she was making around Green’s cock encouraged him to continue with his own movements, slapping each breast after every pull of her nipple. He then settled on using one hand to play with her boobs as the other slipped around his cock and began to jerk himself off. With every sound that emitted from Rani, whether it was the sound of her throat being used, or the sounds of Blue Mask’s tongue lapping at her cunt, his cock slipped out more precum that allowed the movements of his hand to be slicker, and his head threw back at his pleasure.

Green’s cock continued to fuck into Rani’s mouth, his hands on each side of her head guiding her up and down his shaft as if her mouth was a fleshlight. The sound of his cock making her gag as he went in and out of the top of her esophagus made him moan. “You hear all those fuckin’ sounds?” He let out a laugh that forced his abdomen to move and make his cock vibrate inside of Rani’s throat. “The gawk-gawk-gawk?,” he mimicked the noises coming out of her throat as he continued his movements.

Blue Mask laughed as he continued licking Rani’s pussy, those vibrations traveling inside of her as well. “That’s what they call that ‘Gawk-gawk 3000’, right? That’s what you got honey,” he started to vigorously rub at her clit to emphasize his statements, “You got a Gawk-gawk 3000!” He slapped at her cunt a couple of times before placing his face back to her hole and thrusting his tongue in and out of her. The wand on her clit began to rub in circles, maximizing the pleasure she received from it all around.

Pink Mask continued to play with Rani’s tits with one hand as he watched the scene in front of him. He didn’t know which hole to look at- her mouth or her pussy- as he continued to jerk himself off with his other hand. It was all so overwhelming.

“Fuck,” Green moaned out, “Lick my ballsack, too.” He positioned himself to allow Rani easier access to his balls, and she began to lick and suck at them before heading back to his shaft, repeatedly moving between both parts of his body. She heard his moans, distorted yet beautiful, and it indirectly encouraged her to suck at him with more effort. “Fuck, shit,” he moaned out as the pleasure increased, but he suddenly began furrowing his eyebrows in frustration. “F-Fuck off me, bitch.” He slapped Rani’s face with enough impact to make her flinch off of his dick, causing her to cough and snort some mucus that was about to drip from her nose due to her crying. “I was about to cum inside your mouth,” he said as some sort of justification for stopping. “We wouldn’t wanna end the fun so fast, huh?” 

Rani moaned, not even paying attention to Green Mask because of what Blue Mask was doing to her pussy. He turned off the wans and threw it to the side as his lips sucked around her clit and his index and middle finger fucked into her hole, little spurts of arousal squirting out of her as it had done with Green Mask’s prior motions. Pink Mask stopped his own movements with Rani’s tits as he reached that same hand to push down onto Rani’s lower stomach. He knew this pressure would help to escalate Rani’s pleasure and make her orgasm come faster. Rani looked over at Green Mask, who was still calming himself down from facefucking her moments earlier, and pouted at him. Her eyes were pouring with tears, mouth was drooling, and her bottom lip was quivering; he knew the girl was close. “Feel good, yeah?” Rani moaned and whined out little “yeah’s” as he and the other men continued to egg her on with more questions and statements. 

“You gonna cum all over his fingers? Like a good girl?”

“You’re making a proper mess, sweetheart.”

“Fuckin’ squirt in my mouth, bitch.”

One final curl of his fingers and one final slap at her clit caused Rani to squirt like a broken fountain. She had no control over it, and some of the liquid flew all the way to her bedroom door before Blue Mask brought his mouth directly over her hole and drank whatever he could catch. 

Pink Mask let go from her abdomen and started to untie the knot from one of the bedposts on his side. “Untie those,” he commanded Green, and Rani felt relieved to be removed from her rather uncomfortable confinements. 

In spite of all of the commotion and the mental toll the situation had on her, Rani made sure to take mental notes of all of the men in the room. The one with the clean pink balaclava, seemingly the leader, had green eyes and a strand of dark-colored hair that stuck onto his forehead. He had an English accent, something similar to her boyfriend’s. Mr. Blue Mask had blue eyes, which she presumed was his reason for picking the color. He was quite a silly character in this situation, sort of the comic relief between all three men, so it would make sense. The one in the green mask (definitely a homemade one she might add), had freckles at the tops of cheeks and around his brown eyes. His accent was thick, but it wasn’t English like Pink’s. Maybe he was Australian? Or was he from New Zealand? She couldn’t tell, but it was definitely sexy. She knew that one’s name was “Jake” from hearing Blue Mask groan his name out of annoyance. Wait, Jake? That sounded familiar. But, wait, she didn’t know of any Jake’s. She knew a Jacob, who was one of Harry’s friends at work, but not any Jake’s. She quickly shrugged off that thought before the pink-masked man grabbed her by her jaw and tilted it up to face him.

“Dirty fucking whore.” Pink spat in Rani’s face and the fluid landed on her lips. “Lick it off.” He watched as Rani’s tongue worked itself over her lips and brought his saliva into her mouth. “Tastes good, doesn’t it? Had a mint.”

Rani did taste the mint flavor and that exact flavor reminded her of her boyfriend. Her eyes started to well with tears as she thought about him- his smile, his laugh, his face, and how he could help her in this situation. She missed him. She needed him. 

But he wasn’t here right now. His face wasn’t amongst these three men. In fact, no face was among the men, just masks, gloves, and distorted, modified voices. She didn’t feel like she was having sex with three men; she felt like an object only being used for their pleasure. It wasn’t the worst feeling, though. She’d spoken to Harry about a fantasy like this- her house being broken into by an intruder who would come across her and find ways to use her body for his satisfaction before he left with the loot. She was lightly enjoying this, she couldn’t lie. And it was obvious the men could pick up on that. She just wished Harry was one of the men under the masks.

He grabbed onto her shoulder and squeezed them to get her full attention before instructing her, “Turn around and get on your knees by the end of the bed. Now!”

Rani fell to her knees as she felt Pink Mask give her a push to the floor by her shoulders. Her knees buckled onto the floor, and her eyes met with Blue Mask, who made his way onto the bed and positioned himself in a way that made his ass meet with Rani’s face. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she looked at what was before her, and she tilted her head at Pink Mask awaiting his further instructions.

“You’re gonna eat his ass,” he said sternly. “You understand?” Looking down at her, he could see her hesitation in her movements, but her eyes anticipated trying. 

She had licked her boyfriend Harry’s ass before, but it was only two times, and she didn’t think she was that good. But Harry was always amazing at licking hers, and she tried to remember what movements he would make with his tongue to help her out in this situation. So, she placed her hands on each of Blue Mask’s buttocks and put her tongue to work, running it along the rim of his hole in slow and smooth circles.

Blue felt the dampness of her tongue move around his hole and, although distorted due to the voice modifier, whimpered at the feeling. He wrapped his hand around the shaft of his length and began to stroke himself. The feeling was just indescribable.

Pink decided that he wanted in on the action, so he kneeled behind Rani. He didn’t give her any warning before shifting her body in a way that made her go on all fours- he needed better access to play with her cunt as he was the only one who hadn’t even touched  it out of the three, and the boys didn’t have much time left with the girl. They couldn’t risk doing this for much longer, and he needed to feel her.

Green Mask watched the scene in front of him- Rani’s focused face licking her tongue around Blue Mask’s ass with his face screwed in pleasure. “Yes, doll, lick his fucking ass like the slut you are,” Green Mask commanded with a laugh at the end of his statement. He was mocking her, but in some weird way it made Rani’s lower abdomen churn with pleasure. “Yes, Sir,” she moaned back at him, his words somehow encouraging her to lick with more vigor.

“Ohhhh,” Blue Mask emitted a moan and jerked himself off in faster strokes. His balls sat atop Rani’s forehead, and the friction between the body parts gave him more pleasure. “She’s too good at this, fuckin- shit,” he managed to get out of him amidst his moans and grunts. His accent (New York? Pennsylvania? She wasn’t sure.)  seemed to get thicker with the more intense he felt.

Pink Mask slapped Rani’s ass, causing her to moan into Blue Mask’s hole but never ceasing her tongue’s movements. “She’s definitely done this before, yeah?,” Pink asked her, and she moaned loudly, which was seemingly her way of saying yes. “That’s a lucky partner you got, I’m sure of it.” His fingers started to rub against her pussy, dragging along the outside of her labia repeatedly before smacking at her ass again. “Dripping like a broken tap, love. He did a number on your cunt earlier, didn’t he?” He was referring to Green Mask, who was now by the duffel bag and bent over the floor, trying to find one of the items Pink Mask removed from the bag earlier. 

Rani managed to crack some sort of smile as she continued licking at Blue’s ass. “Yes, Daddy,” she answered with a lisp since her tongue was busy.

“He made you feel so good, right, love?” He questioned again, running his thumb up and down between both of her holes, which surprisingly soothed her. 

The girl nodded again. “Yes, Daddy, so good. Mister made me feel good, too,” she looked up at Blue, who forced himself to look down into her eyes at the call of his other name “Mister”. He smirked and groaned, “Yeah? That’s good. And you’re doing such a good job at licking me, sweetheart.”

Rani’s hole pulsated when Blue praised her, and Pink noticed from his view. He loved seeing her aroused, and Blue wasn’t wrong about her satisfactory work. But he wanted to end the praise session and intensify the situation for his own satisfaction, so he slapped her ass and spread her cheeks open as wide as he could. “Stick your tongue down his asshole and move it in and out, whore. And don’t say another word.”

Rani yelped at the feeling of Pink manhandling her rear, and simply nodded as she followed his instructions. Her tongue stuck out and found itself inside Blue Mask’s puckered hole, beginning her thrusts with her tongue.

Once Green found what he was looking for, he walked over to Pink and, unbeknownst to Rani, handed him a tube filled with something clear. “She’s gonna love this shit, man.” he said to Pink, causing Pink to chuckle. 

Rani continued her actions against Blue’s ass and managed to lick at his balls a bit as well. Blue was in heaven with this girl, he couldn’t believe it. He needed to break into more houses and find other kinky bitches to lick his ass.

A click was heard from behind Rani, as if something was opening. She didn’t think about it much until she felt something cold land between her ass and into her asshole, some even running down her vagina. She then felt something be shoved right into her asshole, spreading the hole wide and stretching it in a way that hurt a little. She’d never had anal sex, the furthest she had gone was getting licked there by her boyfriend, so the feeling caused her to jolt away from Pink’s grasp before he pulled her right back over to him. “Did I tell you to fuckin’ move?” He questioned her, slapping her ass a couple of times before removing the object from her ass. 

She was about to answer until she remembered Pink demanding her not to say another word. Instead, she went back to leaving little kitten licks and sucks on Blue’s ballsack before, again, feeling an object being shoved inside her ass again, this time deeper than it has been before. She assumed if it wasn’t for the substance (she now realized it was most likely lube) dripped inside of her hole, the experience of this thing in her ass definitely would’ve felt worse than it did now. She only felt pressure and a stretch as the man behind her continuously thrusted the object back and forth into her asshole, using his fingers to rub at her clit which, surprisingly, also helped her be accustomed to this first anal experience.

Green Mask only sat back on a sofa Rani had in her room and watched what was happening in front of him, his cock dripping with anticipation to join in. But, he knew his place and knew what all three of them had in store for the girl next and decided to just wait his turn. Besides, he didn’t mind watching people fuck from the sidelines every now and then.

“Fuck,” Rani moaned under her breath and she threw her head down at the pleasure behind her. But, Pink didn’t like that and slapped at her ass with the object shoved as far as it could go into her asshole, causing Rani to wince in pain. “Shut the fuck up before I make you, pig.”

Rani didn’t say a word as she began to cry and went back to thrusting into Blue’s ass, Blue now jerking his cock at the sight. Her cries were so adorable, so thrilling, so sexy, and it made the pleasure he was receiving even more intense than it already was, as if that was even possible. “Fuck, you gotta stop it, girl,” he said, and Rani removed her head from between his ass until-

“Keep licking at him. And you’re not stopping until you cum for me,” Pink informed her, using one of his hands to shove her face right into Blue’s ass. Rani’s moans vibrated against Blue’s asshole as Pink shoved the object he was using into her even deeper and thrusted even faster. His fingers rubbed at Rani’s clit at a tantalizing pace, and Rani knew that if she focused on something else, Blue’s ass in this case, her climax would come faster. And so, she moaned into his ass and used her own hand to wank Blue’s dick for him. He wanted to protest against this as he went into this experience wanting to be in full control of his victim, but her smooth hand gliding against his cock felt too good to resist.

A few more thrusts went on before Pink paused, leaving the object inside of her ass as deep as he could, but continued his rotations around her wet, dripping cunt. He watched Rani’s facial expressions to the best of his abilities at his position, seeing that her face indicated her orgasm was approaching her once again for the night. He continued at the pace he was in, and Rani’s cunt pulsated as she neared her peak. “Alright, I want you to push your asshole as much as you can as you cum,” he commanded with a grunt, and Rani nodded as she followed his instructions, wincing out loud at the feeling of her pushing and her orgasm. Rani’s pussy finally squirted onto the floor, leaving a puddle that made a splash as the object once in her asshole landed on the mess. 

Pink kept her ass spread and his eyes marveled at the sight of her gaped asshole and her pussy weeping in front of him. It was the most gorgeous thing he has ever seen. Quickly, he glanced over at Green Mask, who rose from his seat and went over to Pink and Rani’s ass knowing that it was his cue. He picked up a polaroid camera from the floor by the duffel bag and snapped a picture of Rani’s asshole and pussy from the perfect angle. He knew Pink wanted to savor this moment, as he had discussed this scenario with him before.

Rani finally ceased the thrusts of her tongue at Blue Mask’s hole and removed her hand’s grasp from his cock. She and Pink Mask stood up from their positions, and Pink shoved the fingers he was using at her cunt into her mouth for her to suck on. She sucked on them, staring into his eyes as she did so before he finally removed them from her lips abruptly..

As Rani looked at the floor, she noticed the object that was used in her ass: a dildo longer and thicker than a cucumber. She looked over at Pink and saw him smirking, knowing that that look on his face came from seeing her own reaction to the object. 

She then heard Green Mask whistle and looked over his direction, noticing him laying on the bed. “Come on up here, gorgeous,” Green winked at her from under the mask and slapped his hands onto his thighs.

Rani stood in place, not really wanting to join Green onto the bed. She knew he wanted her to ride him, but having another man penetrate her just seemed so… disrespectful to her. And it  would be especially disrespectful to her boyfriend if he ever found out. Blue grabbed Rani’s shoulders from behind and began to walk her over to the bed before lifting her up and throwing her right leg on the opposite side of Green’s body. She was now in reverse cowgirl position, which surprised her, but she went along with it anyway, not really wanting to protest the men around her. But of course, the guilt of being fucked by another man still crept up on her and she muttered, rather shyly,-

“I have… I have a boyfriend.”

Green Mask paused his actions and brought Rani down to his chest, making her look into his eyes. “You’re telling us this now?” There was a pause before he let out a cackle, causing the other two men to laugh in suit. “After this man over here made you gape and the other one had his ass eaten by you? Now is when you say you mention a boyfriend? After squirting in front of three other men?” All of the men continued laughing. It was the most humiliating thing Rani was ever subjected to, and the tears on her face and whimpering of her mouth were proof of that. Yet somehow, it turned her on?

The man with the pink mask got onto the bed on his knees and slapped his cock onto Rani’s pussy as he spoke. “Well I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind if we played with his toy for a bit, huh?” Rani’s lower body jolted, not like she could escape the situation anyway. “Trust me, honey, you’re going to love what we’re gonna do to you. I mean, your pussy is kinda proving how much you love it already,” He paused to stick his tip in, but pulled it out before starting up his slaps again. “And even if you don’t, we don’t really give a fuck. This night is for us to enjoy. Your cries for help aren’t gonna stop us. Your little boyfriend isn’t here to stop us.”

The glow of Rani’s face washed away as she felt the pink masked man stick himself inside of her, inch by inch, slowly getting deeper. “Don’t worry, love. We’re all clean here. A little raw sex never hurts anyone if they’re clean,” he said, as if that would make her feel any better. 

Rani didn’t even get to utter a moan before a cock thrusted into her mouth. The woman gagged and slobbered onto Blue Mask’s shaft as he forced himself deeper with every stroke. “There we go,” Green Mask prodded on as he watched Rani with Blue’s length. “You’re a pro at taking cock, sweetheart,” he groaned as he played with her tits from behind.

The feeling of Pink and Blue both inside opposite ends of her body made her gag and choke onto the cock in her mouth. Mucus fell from her nose and tears ran down her cheeks, the scene getting messier with every movement.

Green ran one of his hands down between her ass and his waist. He gripped his cock and gave it a few strokes before lining it up with her asshole, and Rani didn’t even realize this happening before he finally slithered his thick cock inside of her.

Pink Mask continued his own thrusts into the clenching cunt around him as he felt Green Mask’s cock glide against the wall that separated both of Rani’s canals. He groaned a low and drawn out “Fuckkk,” at the feeling; it was unlike anything else he had felt before. 

Rani choked onto Blue’s cock, saliva spurting out from either corner of her lips, as she felt the intrusion of another cock into her other hole. Three men were not inside of each of her holes. “What the fuck was even happening anymore?” was the last thought that passed through her mind before all three men gripped at her body from their respective position and began to fuck into her relentlessly. 

Pink and Green’s cocks moved simultaneously in and out of Rani’s cunt and ass, and they could even feel each other through the membrane that separated the two holes, maximizing the feelings they were already experiencing. Pink stared at Rani and watched all of her facial expressions as she managed to get fucked in her mouth by Blue. He paused the two for a moment and grabbed onto Rani’s jaw, forcing her to face him. His emerald eyes stared into hers, his eyebrows furrowed and forehead dripping with sweat just as she was, and Rani’s cunt clenched around him as she lingered in his stare. Everything started to make sense. 

Pink pulled Rani towards him and sunk his tongue into her mouth, licking and sucking at her own tongue and her lips before he pulled away and slapped her back down to Blue’s dick. “Keep sucking on him, bitch,” he was able to grunt out despite him being overwhelmed by all that was happening.

The room was filled with sweaty, sticky bodies slapping into each other and gags and chokes that came from Rani’s throat as Blue skull-fucked her. The men continued to egg her on with their own dirty talk, but not much was coming from Rani’s end of the conversation. Blue pulled out of her and watched as her head immediately threw back, almost like her head and neck were too numb to stand up on their own. “Damn, that bitch is braindead,” he commented with a chuckle, and the two other men took notice of this mention. 

Green slapped Rani's face a couple of times, but received no feedback from Rani other than a drunken moan. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered underneath his breath. He used his fingers of one hand to hook onto a corner of her mouth, which left her lips ajar, drool finding its way out from between. The drool landed onto her chest, as to which Pink bent over to lick it up and swirl it around in his mouth before spitting it back into Rani’s mouth. Rather, it missed and landed onto her cheek, but Rani was too intoxicated by her gangbang that she didn’t even flinch.

The two men fucking into Rani’s cunt and anus lifted up their hips to pick up their paces inside of her, Rani still too high to respond with anything other than a moan. Green let go of the corner of Rani’s mouth and gripped the back of her head to shove her mouth back onto Blue’s dick. Blue took the reigns and began face-fucking her again, this time with more desperation and speed. 

All of the men were finally close to cumming after more thrusts and grunts, and they could all feel it in their lower stomachs. The first to release was Green, who shot his cum so deep into her asshole, but he held his cock in place in order to not let anything drip out of her, not yet at least. 

Pink was next and did the same as Green, plugging his dick inside of her cunt and preventing any of his cum from spilling out of her.

Finally, it was Blue’s turn, and he shot his cum deep into her throat before smacking Rani’s cheek and grabbing her by her jawline. “Swallow my cum, whore.”

Rani regained consciousness from his grip at her jaw and somehow found a way to force herself to swallow his seed. She felt the thick substance slide down the walls of her esophagus and then looked at the two other men inside of her.

“We’re gonna pull out of you,” Pink started, “But we gotta make you cum first.” As he finished his statement, he and Green began their thrusts again. The thrusts of their cocks into her cum-filled holes caused their milky substances to squirt through the sides of her holes, splattering all over her bed. Pink rubbed at her clitoris while Green twisted her nipples and pulled at them before finally, Rani came. A loud pornographic moan filled the room as she climaxed, and she squirted all over Pink’s chest and torso. He and Green finally pulled out of her, and Pink watched as their beautiful concoction of fluids spilled from both of her holes. Blue had the polaroid camera in his hands and shot pictures of the entire orgasm. Pink knew he would have a fun time looking at the pictures later.

The three men in the room got themselves composed before they heard an attention-grabbing cough come from the bed. It was Rani, who was obviously composed and very aware of what just happened.

“Thank you so much,” she paused for dramatic effect. “Harry, for that wonderful night”

The man in the pink mask chuckled, and finally took off his mask, revealing himself to Rani as her boyfriend. “Glad you enjoyed this, sweetheart,” He blushed, “but what gave me away?”

“I looked into your eyes. No one has green eyes as beautiful as yours.”

“Oh,” he laughed again. “I guess I should’ve worn contacts.”

“Also, you were being really possessive about cumming inside of my pussy. I know how possessive you get when it comes to me,” she continued and smirked at him.

Harry laughed and went up to Rani to kiss her on her cheek, which was still warm and stinging from the men slapping her all night. “You’re right. Should’ve controlled that a bit more.”

“No baby, I thought it was really cute. I’m shocked that your friends agreed to this. Actually, I’m shocked that you thought of this whole thing in the first place.”

Harry let out a warm smile and brushed his fingers through his hair, which was matted from being confined to the balaclava. “Yeah, well remember the conversation we were having about our kinks and deepest desires? I wanted to do something special for my girl, especially since our anniversary is coming up. I wanted to help you mark something off of your bucket list.”

Rani scoffed, “More like a couple of things.” Then, she looked toward the Blue Masked Man. “And I mean, Jake?” Blue’s eyes widened and he let out a “whoops” as Rani continued. “You kinda slipped that one out, Timmy.”

Timmy, or Timothee, removed his mask along with Green Mask, the Jake in question, following him with his own. TImothee and Jake, who was the “Jacob” Rani thought of before, were Harry’s work buddies and best friends. “So it wasn’t really a business trip, huh, guys?”

Jacob raised his hand to butt in. “Well, you could say it kinda was. I mean it was a job we all took part in to help our friend. I guess?”

“Mhm, yeah, sure,” Rani said, “Anyway, I had fun guys. I don’t know if I’d ever do something like that again, though. It took soooo much out of me.”

Harry kissed her temple and smiled. “Yeah, well never say never.”

“By the way, we didn’t take anything from your house,” Jacob stated, lifting up one of the bags he and TImothee went around the house with at the beginning, and showed her the contents of it. “It was just styrofoam we brought with us to give that illusion.

Rani laughed and shook her head. “Y’all are just too much.”

The four of them sat in her bedroom and discussed what went on that night, watching as the sun rose from Rani’s window. Harry held onto his girl, feeling like such a proud boyfriend. He fell in love with Rani even more than ever.

[villainintern]

🕱🕱 At UNDERHAND INCORPORATED, the world's leading supervillain corporate conglomerate, networking opportunities are many. Recruit henchmen, make enemies, forge tenuous friendships, and always be sure to collect blackmail. Just in case. ____________________________________________________

YOUR FELLOW INTERNS:

PETER HYDE interns for human resources, although he might not be totally human. Your cubicle neighbor is a geeky slack-off who (unlike you) doesn't really want to work here, but for some reason he's unable to quit. Laid-back, conflict avoidant, and generally easy to manipulate, he’s easy minion material- but his attitude belies a volatile, monstrous secret. Which can be a great asset or a major risk, depending on if you can maintain your control over him.

Appearance: Pale skin, black hair that always escapes his gel, earnest brown eyes rimmed with the harrowed look of someone who stares at screens all day. 6'5" but embarrassed about being tall, so he leans on stuff and slouches in chairs. Usually wearing cheap office attire and a novelty tie.

🫀Likes: Cozy furnished basements. Free flash computer games. Taking on a whole rotisserie chicken solo. 🚫Dislikes: Working overtime. Falling behind on payments. The bottomless, gnawing hunger.

"Tropes": Codependent coworkers, boss-henchman. Genuine friends somehow? More?

REID/RENEY SULLIVAN (gender selectable) is your nemesis, or at least they think so. An interning hero (at the rival hero company) with impressive telekinetic powers, they are nonetheless as much of an amateur as you, and so you find yourself on even footing with one of the most promising superheroes in the business. Earnest and witty, they genuinely just want to help people. Eventually, they become fixated on “figuring you out”, which can lead to them getting sucked into your schemes. That, or their meddling could be your downfall. Worst of all, they might even succeed in reforming you.

Appearance: Black skin and hair, styled into many twists that fall at different lengths around their face. Lithe, stringy runner's build. Expressive brown eyes, a wide, endearingly uneven smile.

🫀Likes: Doing good in the world. Veggie pizza. Playing smash bros with siblings. Maybe you, despite all their better instincts. 🚫Dislikes: You. The level of control their employer exerts over them. Skinny jeans.

"Tropes": Enemies to worse. Reluctant allies, bantering. Intimately charged hand-to-hand combat. Suddenly realizing your sworn nemesis is the most important and constant figure in your life.

T9-670 is a seven-foot tall ex-war machine, now interning with UnderHand's tech support department. Once a military member conscripted to the company's private security decal, its contract didn’t end when it died- the soldier’s brain was transplanted into a humanoid steel frame. T9 is doing some soul searching- it’s not totally sure if it even has one left, but it would like to have a purpose beyond fixing printers and mowing down UnderHand’s enemies with its plasma gun.

Appearance: T9's new mechanical body is imposing but graceful, seven feet of smooth interlocking steel. Its "face" is a rounded plate of dark glass. Small tubes connect to the back of its neck, carrying fluid to the brain through its artificial spine.

🫀Likes: The beautiful, almost organic curves of highway overpasses. 🚫Dislikes: Being unable to eat. It misses carbs.

"Tropes": Big huge strong shiny robot.

ELAINE FOSTER is an up-and-coming mad scientist interning as an assistant in the tech support laboratories. Although a genius prodigy, Foster otherwise has no superhuman abilities, which causes her to be overlooked by your superiors- as a result, she's become fixated on getting that elusive promotion. Exacting, calculating, and a little maniacal, Foster doesn't dole out her respect easily. But if she sees you making smart moves, you'll find her a very competent collaborator.

Appearance: Pale skin and frizzy, near-white blonde hair. Sharp, elegant, shrewd face. Grey eyes behind narrow cherry red cat-eye glasses. She usually wears her lab gear: the signature high collared white coat, black vinyl boots and gloves.

🫀Likes: A strong cup of green tea. A well-tailored pair of dress pants. Mugler, her pet lab rat. 🚫Dislikes: Temperatures above 68 degrees. Willful imbeciles. Being condescended to.

"Tropes": Icy exterior, rivals, lab partners in crime, the chemistry that comes from bonding over your obsessive shared career passions.

BLINK is technically unemployed, a rogue villain or vigilante, depending on who you ask. Completely anonymous, they wear a unique suit of tactical gear that allows them to turn completely invisible, the first of its kind. Quippy, chipper, and sauntering, Blink is an invisible superhuman that loves the spotlight- a walking contradiction. Their motives are as obscure as their identity, but they sure seem to interfere with your missions a lot. Are they sabotaging your goals, or do theirs align? Do they just like following you around? ...are they following you right now? You're pretty sure you're alone. The hallway is dead silent. And yet...

Appearance: There's no way to know. Even when they're visible, Blink is covered head to toe in tactical gear, and they seem very cautious about keeping their face concealed. It's almost like they have something to hide from you, personally.

🫀Likes: Assassinating crooked politicians. Steel-toe boots. Invisibly entering people's houses just to see what it's like in there. 🚫Dislikes: Motion sensing doors.

"Tropes": Secret identity, watching you through their sniper scope and kicking their feet around like a schoolgirl.

[drowsyhope]

HEYA, [Y/N]! • POPPY PLAYTIME

summary ; child reader with the smiling critters

a/n ; THANK YALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON THE DOGDAY FICC 🫶🏼🫶🏼 was lowkey scared to post it bc i thought it was booty 😔 HOPE YALL ENJOY THIS ONEE

warning ; slight cussing, reader is hispanic coded bc ya girl is hispanic ‼️🙏🏼, based on the CARTOON versions of the smiling critters, different scenarios with each character, no children death just a lot of sillies :3

DOGDAY , MOVIE NIGHT

“are you sure the popcorn isn’t burnt?” you asked while holding up a greasy bag of popcorn, that clearly had a burnt smell to it. you were wearing your typical pajamas, a [f/c] ]f/a] themed jumper. dogday on the other hand was wearing a dog themed jumper, complete with fuzzy orange socks.

dogday nodded excitedly, taking the greasy popcorn out of your hands. “of course! everything is perfect!” he turned on the heel of his feet, turning around and walking towards the cushion fort the two of you made.

you were confused, but shook it off, putting in another bag of popcorn.

dogday caught wind of your birthday coming up, and planned a one-on-one play date with the two of you, since recently he has been more busier than usual. plus, he always love spending time with you!

fluffing up a pillow, dogday laid down, getting comfortable in his spot, his tail wagging and you made your way towards him, your own personal bag of popcorn in your hands.

“what movie would you like to watch?” he asked, grabbing the controller and looking at you, awaiting for an answer. you on the other hand, didn’t know what movie to watch. surely, there was plenty of movies to watch, but they suddenly just popped out of your head when the question was asked.

“hmm, what about [favorite movie]?” you responded finally. dogday nodded, turning towards the tv and putting on the movie, smiling as the two of you started munching on your goodies.

alas, your movie night began.

CATNAP , TEA PARTY

catnap was reluctant on the idea of a tea party, but with convincing with the help of dogday, catnap agreed.

the two of you were dressed in your sunday’s best. catnap went for a more casual look, having a pink bow tie tied around his neck, a bow being tied around the end of his tail. bobby gave him some white gloves, craftycorn gave him some necklaces to borrow.

you on the other hand, had a bow tied around your wrist, a bow being put in your hair. picky helped you style your hair, and kickin helped you become more confident.

the tea party was going to be held in his cathouse, which dogday and bubba decorated.

you and hoppy prepared tea, making some french goodies alongside it. you were excited for this little tea party, having it with one of your best of friends. it was also near the time of your birthday, so you were extra excited.

entering the cathouse, you were greeted by catnap, who was fumbling with his bow tie, seemly uncomfortable. “catnap!” you smiled, before giving him a funny look as he looked at you with a shocked expression.

“hey! uh ..can you help me?” catnap struggled, before you nodded. you didn’t want your friend to feel uncomfortable.

soon enough, the two of you were enjoying tea, snacking on chocolate chip cookies, and chatting your lives away. well, mostly you. out of the two, you were the more talkative one. catnap was the quiet one of the smiling critters, so it was surprising for the others for the two of you to become such best friends.

but, thankfully, the two of you are. cause you won’t be having this epic tea party if you didn’t!

HOPPY HOPSCOTCH , MOON CYCLES

hoppy has ever seen the moon before, you on the other hand, have. she always asked how it looked like, does it change, does it have a scent, etc.

“the moon has different cycles, like i think today it’s a full moon.” you explained, showing her a picture of the full moon today. hoppy looked amazed, her eyes widening and her eyes going up. you smiled at her, enjoying that she was finally able to be the moon.

“ah yucks, i wish i can see the moon for myself!” she responded, going back and landing on the pillow, making you giggle. you in return laid down on your stomach right next to her, the photograph still in your hand.

“it’s very beautiful! maybe i can take a videotape next time. i’ll make sure to show you.” you promised, sticking out your pinky for a pinky promise. hoppy smiled, taking out one of her fingers to establish the promise.

it made you feel bad that hoppy never seen the moon. you always seen how much she wanted to see the moon, always talking about it and learning about it.

you wished you can take her along with you, but your parents won’t allow you. also, hoppy is a 6’2ft mascot, and might make other people scared.

nevertheless, you explained the moon cycles to her, drawing pictures of them to visualize it for her. she enjoyed learning more about the cycles, and thanked you for showing her a picture of the actual moon.

hopefully, one day you can take her to the moon. the two of you can jump super high and reach the moon, planting a picture of the two of you, and come right back down. one day, you’ll make sure that dream comes true.

one day.

CRAFTYCORN , ARTWORK

the room was filled with bunch of laughter and smiles, it was of course, the art room. craftycorn was in charge of the art room, as she was the artistic one of the smiling critters.

thankfully, she had a helper, a kid named [y/n].

[y/n] was a artist from the day they were born, always making different artworks from different materials. if there was something, they could make anything out of it.

they enjoyed making art, and instantly became best friends with craftycorn, the two sharing their love for art.

“can you pass me the red?” craftycorn asked, scribbling on her paper. [y/n] nodded, getting up and walking towards the table, which contained different colored crayons. they grabbed the red one, turned around, and made their way back to where craftycorn was.

“here you go!” they said, giving them the red crayon. craftycorn smiled at them, taking the red crayon. she was drawing the two of them, using the red crayon to draw hearts all over the place.

[y/n] sat down, continuing to draw on their artwork — a drawing of all the smiling critters, them included. it was a huge project, and their hand definitely hurt. but, it was going to be worth it in the end.

soon enough, craftycorn was finished with her artwork, holding it up like it was a masterpiece. the other children caught wind of the finished art piece, and was quick to scatter towards her, wanting to see what she had created.

finally, [y/n] was finished. they smiled as they wrote their name near the bottom of the paper, holding it with such determination. they were proud of their artwork.

“that’s an amazing artwork, [y/n]!” craftycorn complimented, smiling as she realized it was her and the other smiling critters, alongside with [y/n]. she felt warmth creep its way into her heart, it was adorable.

“i hope you enjoyed it, i spent a lot of time on it.”

indeed, she and the other smiling critters enjoyed the masterpiece created by their dear [y/n].

PICKY PIGGY , BAKING

baking with picky was like a sport, it was easy!

picky had this cookbook that she liked to use. thankfully, you were able to read, so it was easy baking with picky, as she always had the ingredients on hand.

now, the two of you decided to bake cupcakes for the smiling critters, since they been craving some sweets for awhile.

“and now .. add vanilla!” picky said as you put some drops of vanilla into the cake batter mix, instantly being hit with the scent of vanilla. it smelled just like dogday.

picky read over the instructions as you poured the cake batter into the pan, making sure it was evenly distributed. it was rather a messy step, but with picky on your side, it was easy.

you were quick to put the cupcakes in the oven as picky sat on the countertop, looking at you, smiling. the two of you became friends over your love for baking, and picky’s live for eating.

you would always bake or cook for picky, as you wanted to improve on your skills. picky always gave you honest review, so you can improve better. it was a easy win for the both of you, you get better, and she gets to eat.

the two of you were in silence, looking as the cupcakes baked. it was a comfortable silence.

time was fast though, soon the cupcakes were finished. you put on your heat protective gloves, and took out the cupcakes, blowing on them to try and cool them down.

picky was jumping up and down, excited that the cupcakes were finally done. “okay, don’t touch just yet, they are still very hot.” you said as you took off your gloves. picky understood, but was still excited. she loved trying your cupcakes, something about them just make them melt in her mouth.

she loves when you bake.

BUBBA BUBBAPHANT , MATH HOMEWORK

you didn’t enjoy math.

you always stressed over it, cried over it, and also got mad over it. math was just not your brightest subject.

your best friend on the other hand, bubba, was a scholar on math. he always showed you how good his grades were on math, and always offered to help you.

but no matter how much he helped you, you never seemed to grasp on the concept of math in general.

“come on! it’s easy!” bubba groaned, looking down at the simple multiplication work on your paper. you on the other hand, was stressing out. you shook your head, to which bubba playfully rolled his eyes.

you groaned as bubba explained to you the basic of math, and how to do multiplications. you been over this plenty of times! you just can’t understand the concept of math!

“ughh .. at this point don’t even talk math to me!” that gave bubba an idea.

he quickly bought up 2 apples, “okay, there is two apples, correct?” you nodded. he bought up 3 apples, “now, there is 3 apples, right?” you nodded once again.

“now imagine each apple is 2 apples,” she pointed towards the 3 apples, “2 .. 4 ..”

“6!” bubba smiled. “correct!”

then it was like something clicked. bubba showed many other examples, and you got it right away. everything was suddenly making sense!

maybe math isn’t so bad.

BOBBY BEARHUG, VALENTINE’S DAY

valentine’s day was right around the corner, and you didn’t know what to get your best friend, bobby bearhug.

bobby’s favorite holiday was valentine’s day, she always loved the idea of love in general. in fact, that was how the two of you became friends.

you were giving out chocolates to your friends, and you had an extra heart shaped chocolate. you didn’t know who to give it to, until a certain bear came up to you, giving you a lollipop. smiling, you gave her the heart shaped chocolates, and the two of you became instant friends.

your friendship anniversary was coming up, and you were nervous. you didn’t know what to give bobby, as she basically already had everything.

but then, you had an idea, an expensive one.

2 week before valentine’s day, you were working your butt off for some cash. this was going to be an expensive gift, but it would be long lasting.

thankfully, you got some help from some of her other friends, getting some info on her favorite colors and favorite candies, everything was going to fall perfectly in place.

you made sure to give the person making the gift enough time, and made sure you tipped them accordingly. everything was perfect, and you were excited.

valentines rolled around, and bobby was trying to look for you.

“have yall seen [y/n]?” she was growing worried. today was your friendship anniversary, and she hasn’t seen you all day. she hoped you didn’t just ditch out on her, as she didn’t want to seem useless.

that was when one of the kids asked her to follow them, and as skeptical as she was, she followed nevertheless. they led her to a dark room, which scared her quite a bit. that was until the light turned on, revealing a surprising sight.

“happy valentine’s day!” you stood there, a ramo buchon in the color of her favorite color in your arms, some candies in your other. they were eternal roses, which meant they wouldn’t die out, which made it even more special. the other kids took pictures of the two of you.

this surely was going to be your favorite valentines yet.

KICKIN CHICKEN , ONE DAY

the playground was filled a lot of children, including bullies.

you hated bullies, especially since you have a few of your own. they always made fun of your hair and the way you spoke, which made you insecure about yourself.

that was until a kid named kickin chicken came to your rescue. he defended you from the bullies, and threaten to call the teachers on them.

he was like your guardian angel, and he was a chicken, so almost there.

“why didn’t you tell me?” kickin said with tears in his eyes as he patched you up. you were silent the whole time, not wanting to trauma dump on your friend.

“i didn’t want to seem weak.” you whispered, to which kickin sighed, taping your bruise. he looked at you with worried eyes, this was the 3rd time this weak you were sent to the nurse office, and kickin was always there to see you.

he gave you a hug, sighing as he heard you sniffle. you were always an emotional kid, which was probably one of the reasons they targeted you. kickin was sure to report those kids, they don’t deserve the cupcakes he’s going to bring on his birthday.

he wanted to tell you that you weren’t weak, but you would never believe him. he knew that you hated confrontation, so he never told you directly, but with his actions, he did.

“you’re a amazing friend, [y/n]. i hope you know that.” he said as the two of you hugged each other. you didn’t say anything, you didn’t want to believe what he was saying, but half of you know that he actually meant it.

you just hoped those bullies get the karma that they deserve, and that you won’t be bullied anymore.

one day, you’ll be a happy child. one day you’ll be able to smile without being scared of someone making fun of you. one day, you’ll be the best friend that kickin will always want you to be.

one day.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

last one had a kick to it. alsooo!!! request are open!!! please request! :3 might take some time though :(

[dira333]

Monday Madness - Asahi Azumane x Reader

for @screamin-abt-haikyuu for the Milestone Event Week 1

You’ll never do this again.

Leave getting ready until the last possible minute, take off the skirt you wanted to wear because it’s got a stain, and then rush down the street because you’re late and not at all happy with the skirt you wore instead.

Tomorrow you’ll get up earlier. No, you’ll pick out your clothes the night before. And maybe- 

Your phone clatters to the dirty ground, narrowly avoiding a puddle of water.

Overhead the train’s arrival is announced and you bend over to pick up your phone when you hear the telltale sound of nightmares - a seam ripping.

Both your hands and your phone pressed to your backside you try to get a feeling for the damage when something soft and heavy hits your back.

“Sorry!” Someone stammers behind you. “I just… I saw and I- take my jacket!”

Steaming with embarrassment you take the sleeves and tie them around your front as the train rolls in and everyone gets moving, pushing you forward. You turn to spot your savior in need but there are too many people and you don’t know who it was.

Soon you’re sitting inside the train, the jacket bunched around your thighs. When you move around a bit trying to catch the eye of whoever came to your rescue, you feel a bump under your left leg.

Your investigation brings forth a leather wallet with a picture of a guy grinning into the camera, his dark hair gelled up and a single strand bleached like a lightning rod. You slide the picture out, hoping for a name on it but find that there’s another guy next to him, hiding under the fold of the leather, and this guy looks familiar, awkward smile and chocolate-brown hair. But where have you seen him before?

Quietly you go through the wallet once more, though there’s no ID and only a few crumpled notes. 

Sighing, you put it back, resolving to bring everything to the police station near your office once you’ve found a solution for your clothing problem.

It was nice of him to offer his jacket, after all. You can only hope it hasn’t ruined his day.

-

“The new designer guy is here,” your coworker Miho announces a few hours later. “Can you go get him?”

You give her a dumbfounded look. You’re wearing her leggings after all, borrowed from her gym bag for her usual after-work workout.

“Do I have to?”

She perks an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t slight any other of your work duties, would you?”

“No,” you sigh, getting up. 

She calls after you. “Don’t worry. Your butt looks gorgeous in my pants.”

-

“I’ve got your jacket. Your wallet too.”

The guy looks up from the magazine he’d been reading and you realize with a start how weird this is.

“I mean,” you stutter awkwardly, “I think it was you? This morning at the train station?”

His eyes bulge out of his head as he gets up, towering over you easily.

“I- yes, I-”

“Wait here!” You call out, racing back to your office only to come back with the bundle and the little box of candy you always have in your desk for emergencies. “This is for you. I recognized you from the picture in your wallet.”

“Oh, that…” He rubs his neck awkwardly. “That’s pretty old. Wait-” He turns red. “I had that folded up.”

“Yeah, but…” you pull your shoulders up. “I was a little nosy… Just… to figure out what your name was. You don’t have an ID or anything in there.”

“Oh, yeah.” He chuckles. “I always lose my wallet, so I carry my ID with my phone.” He offers his hand, massive around your own. “I’m Azumane by the way. Azumane Asahi.”

“Thank you,” you smile back, a little unwilling to let go. “For saving me this morning. How can I repay you? That candy is nowhere near enough.”

“You could-” he hesitates, looking away. “No, it’s fine.”

“No, please, tell me-”

“Go on a date with him,” Miho calls out from down the hallway, loud enough to freeze both of you in your spots.

“I-”

“It would be an honor,” Azumane breathes and you can’t help but laugh.

“I will,” you agree softly. “Sorry. Monday Madness, really. I should be showing you around.”

When he follows you down the hallway his hand is still in yours.

[aoi1dee]

OLNF Week Day 3: Memories

@olnfweek2024 a short fic is down below...

The flash of the camera blinds the three of them standing in the photo booth at their first High School dance. “Next!” The photographer shouts as the next couple comes up. Tamarack helps lead Alex away from the booth as he tries to regain his vision, continuing to hold onto his arm which Qiu had let go as soon as the photos were taken. 

When they reach the gym wall, Tamarack lets go of Alex’s arm and leans against it, “I hope the photo will look nice…”

Alex looks at her holding his hands behind his back, “I’m sure it will! When do you think we will get them?” As he says that, Qiu comes up from behind and places something into his hand. Alex quickly moves his arms back to his front to look at what it was. It was the photo that they just took!

“They only gave me one copy,” Qiu says as they lean against the wall next to Tamarack, “You can have it”

“Wha?” He brings the photo to his face to take a look at it. A flash of the camera brings the three of them into focus. Alexander stands in the middle with an awkward smile and his arms stiff at the sides. He is wearing a white button up shirt with a black tie flowing down his torso. He also wears his familiar red earmuffs; he knew it was going to be loud with the music and shouting so it was best that he wore something to protect his hearing. It looked really stupid in this photo… On the left stands Alex’s neighbor, Qiu Lin, whose hand is wrapped around his stiff arm. Qiu stance is way more relaxed than Alexander was, their hair is tied into a low ponytail which curls around their neck to their collarbone. They are wearing a dark blue and gray fluffy sweater and dark blue ripped jeans. They definitely aren’t the most formal person at the dance but Alex wasn’t expecting them to be. Qiu doesn’t know what they identify as and there aren’t really a lot of gender neutral formal clothing out and ready in stores for Qiu to wear so they decided to be more comfortable. Tamarack on the other hand is the most formal between the three of them; her Omi probably wouldn’t let her be anything else. She stands on Alex’s right side also holding onto his other stiff arm. She is wearing a pink flowy dress with a big bow attached to her back. Instead of the usual braid she wears, half of her hair is tied up with a pink ribbon and the rest is flowing freely down her back.

The photo really wasn’t bad. The only issue Alex had was how stupid he looked compared to his two neighbors. But that’s how it is every day for him.

He looks up, “Do you two want to see?” He holds out his hand with the photo.

“No, I’ve already seen it.” Qiu looks away. 

Tamarack reaches her hand out and takes the photo from Alex. The longer she looks at the photo, a more obvious frown begins to form on her face. She holds the photo out for Alex to take again, “Yeah… you can keep it.” Alex hesitantly takes the photo back, folds it in half, and places it in his pocket with a nice pat. He leans against the gym wall with his neighbors.

When he imagined a High School dance, he was expecting to go with the most beautiful person in the world and dance the night away pretending they were the only two people in the world (just like the movies). But little did he know that he would be dancing with two of the most beautiful people in the world. He’s not saying that's a bad thing honestly, Alex is so grateful that Qiu and Tamarack were both his date. He likes them both so much that he can’t even put it into words. So he couldn’t just take one of them. It took a lot of courage to even ask them in the first place. It’s such an awkward question! Especially since Qiu and Tam aren’t exactly fond of each other… But when he finally asked them around a week ago, they were at first very hesitant (which is extremely reasonable) But after a day of thinking, they both agreed to be his date!

And now here they are standing awkwardly in the gym Tamarack wrapping her arms around herself to hide and Qiu looking towards the exit contemplating leaving. This is not how he was expecting this to go. But he should’ve imagined it like this. Alex’s eyes lead towards the dance floor watching friends and couples jumping and dancing with each other to the music with an extremely annoyingly loud bass. When was the slow dance music going to play? Was it going to play? Alex’s main goal for this entire day was to dance with them. So these were questions that needed to be answered immediately. Just the thought of possibly slow dancing with them tonight made his heart pound louder than before.

Suddenly, Qiu begins to push off the wall, “Are we seriously just going to stand here?” They turn towards their neighbors.

“Oh-” Alex turns towards them, “No… what do you want to do?” Alex asks with his face flushed.

Tamarack gets up as well brushing invisible dust off of her dress, “I’m… I’m okay with doing whatever you two want…” The girl that used to want everyone doing what she wanted to do now wants to do what everyone else wants to do instead. He’ll be honest, everything used to be so much easier when those two made up his mind for him. But now he has to do it for them…

But now sweat trickles down Alexander’s face looking back and forth between them. How is he even going to ask them to dance?! Would they even want to dance? How do you even slow dance with two people? Is he supposed to take turns with them or something? No, one of them would get upset for being left out. Plus that sounds really stupid. Are they going to hold hands and spin in circles? No, they would look so stupid!! Why did this have to be so difficult? Plus the amount of people that would stare at them because who slow dances with two people?! Is he even going to be able to do this without backing out-

“Are you trying to ask us to dance?” Qiu asks. Oh god this is probably the millionth time they’ve said what he’s thinking. They do this all of the time, “If so then yes.” Alex freezes. Wait, did they just say yes? Or was he hallucinating? Did his messed up brain finally start getting to him? 

Tamarack walks closer to him, “I would love to dance…” She looks up at him with a soft smile. Okay maybe he wasn’t having auditory hallucinations. Maybe his earmuffs are muting what they actually said. They were probably making fun of Alex for even assuming they would want to dance with someone like him. They probably only agreed to go with him because they pity him…

“Alex?” Qiu gets closer to Alex waving their hand in front of his face, “Knock Knock, are you there?”

“Yes!” He suddenly jumps, making Qiu and Tam jump as well, “You guys were making fun of me for trying to ask you to dance.” The two neighbors look at each other in pure confusion. Qiu draws their hands closer to his face, wait are they..?

… No, they were removing his earmuffs.

Qiu pulls down the earmuffs to his shoulders, “Can you hear me now? We want to dance with you.” They move back again placing their hand on their hip.

Alex stands there for what feels like forever. He can’t believe Mx. Qiu Lin and Ms. Tamarack Baumann, the most gorgeous and wonderful people to ever exist, actually want to dance with him!! Like come on!! His entire face is covered in acne, he is a film nerd who can’t stop talking about his favorite movies, and honestly.. he is not that good looking. But Qiu and Tam still agreed to go to the dance with him…

Before Alexander could think any more, both of his neighbors grab him by their arms and start dragging him onto the dance floor with the other couples. They both stand in front of him with their hands out waiting for Alex to grab. After a bit of hesitation, he slides his hands into theirs. Qiu pulls Alex in the middle of both of them, “Place your hand on our shoulders” They’re giving him directions on how to dance… Alex quickly puts his hands on their shoulders without a second thought. While he is doing so, he feels something on his waist. He looked down and saw both of their hands were there holding onto him like he was holding onto them. The position was totally awkward, but it was the best they could do for three people.

Then the music begins and everything disappears. All of the couples that surrounded them once before seemed to have vanished. The only thing in his view was his two partners in front of him. Qiu is looking anywhere other than Alex but not in a bad way.. They’re trying to hide the fact that they’re blushing. They probably want to seem cool in front of the both of them. Though their red ears aren't helping them. Tamarack had somewhere to look at though, she was watching their feet. She was probably making sure no one stepped on anyone because that would ruin the moment. Though through her thick golden hair covering her face, he could also see that she was blushing a bit too. They weren’t the only ones. Alex can feel his face heating up as he watches them. Alex pulls them both into his arms. They’re both so wonderful… He doesn’t ever want to let go. Not anything in the world could make him want to let go of them both. Even if there is a thunderstorm that suddenly hits the gym that they were dancing in. But he knew that he had to eventually let them go. The three of them continue to sway to the slow music holding each other closer than before. The entire world could be staring at them but who cares? Alex snuggles in between them as Qiu rests their head on his and Tam rests hers on Alex’s shoulder.

But the music stops and the world comes back. Qiu pulls away a second after the music ends and before the next song plays, but they continue to hold onto his hand. They start heading away from the dance floor and lean against the same wall but this time, the mood is different.

“Reminds me of when I danced with you at the dance hall”, Qiu looks at Alex with the goofiest smile on their face. They couldn’t hide that smile even if they tried.

“What? When did that happen?” Tamarack looks at Qiu with a slight smile. 

“When we were ten.” They smirk back at her. The conversation fell off after that, there wasn’t that much to add.

“Thank you Alex.” Tamarack shares.

“Huh? For what?” He looks down at her 

“For taking me to the dance.” Tamarack answers.

“Yeah, thanks. ” Qiu continues, “I didn’t want to go originally, I thought it would be boring, but you changed my mind. You really made this a night to remember” They squeeze his hand. 

“I should thank you two for both agreeing to be my date…” Alex looks at his shoes, “I hope I didn’t make it too difficult…” 

“No, it was wonderful, thank you” Qiu wraps an arm around his shoulder as Tamarack squeezes his hand, “Can we get food now?” Alex and Tam look at them for a split second before bursting out laughing, “What? They got pizza.”

“Yeah, let's go!” Alex grins at them as he starts leading his dates out of the gym. The photo he kept safe in his pocket which had seemed terrible at first, now holds the memory of the most magical moment of his entire life…

-----

hi gamers ty for reading!! you get a special drawing of their outfits i designed :3 (this is not official game designs)

thank you for reading!!! <3333 (also yes i have no idea how to draw heels......)

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Still Pretty

Sirius Black x fem!reader

[1K] drunk sirius, something cute and fluffy that I stopped too soon ‘cause toothache got to me sorry

Sirius was wearing half the clothes he’d left with by the time you walked into the Potter’s home.

He was lazing on the couch, half on Remus, dark hair a mess, white shirt rumpled and sleeves rolled to his elbows, three - no four - buttons undone, tie lost, sweater missing. The party had long wrapped up, the usual suspects left with the music low, butterbeer and firewhiskey bottles almost empty.

Lily had called, sounding too relieved when you answered, not long home from work. She’d murmured a soft apology, hoping you weren’t too tired, but your boyfriend was taking up residency on her couch and her own husband was only encouraging it.

You’d laughed, fond and knowing, telling her you’d be over soon to collect what was yours. So you fed your cat, scratching him behind his black fur ears as he curled around your legs in thanks, leaving the living room lights on low for your return. You switched out your work shirt for a sweater Sirius had left at yours, a faded thing that was once black but always soft, shoving your feet into some tennis shoes and setting off to the Potter’s.

You didn’t knock, didn’t have to, walking into the familiar house that smelled like pumpkin spice and honey. You found your friends in the living room, sprawled over loveseats and armchairs, talking quietly, laughing loudly. Remus smiled lazily when he saw you, tapping at Sirius’ legs which were slung over his lap. Lily waved from the armchair she was squished beside James on, her husband half asleep with his head on her chest.

“Pads,” Remus whispered, “your taxi is here.”

Disgruntled, Sirius slapped blindly at his friend, his head hanging off of the couch, hair wild, silver earring dangling against his temple. He was all flushed, pink and tipsy, eyes closed and lashes fanning over cheeks. “Fuck off,” Sirius moaned, sleepy sounding. “M’staying here. This is my bed.” He slapped the couch cushions, indignant. “You’re in my bed, Remus.”

Lily rolled her eyes and Remus tried not to laugh as you crept over, bending to smooth your hand over your boyfriend’s forehead, brushing back the stray hairs that were curling over his eyes, around his temples. He grinned before you could even speak.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” You mused softly, voice teasing.

Sirius’ eyes opened, dark as always, warm with butterbeer and wine, warmer from seeing you. They crinkled in the corners, sticky sweet. “Hi, darling.”

“Hi, pretty boy,” you murmured back, smiling when Sirius lifted his head, neck craning to bump his nose against your cheek, kissing you a little off kilter, clumsy but sweet. You hummed, pleased with his affection, even if Remus pretended to gag from beside you both. “Would you like to come to my bed instead?”

Sirius gasped, scandalised, eyes wide and flashing dangerously at you. His grin was wolfish. “Christ woman, are you flirting with me?” He leaned up again, pushing a kiss to your jawline, snickering into your skin when Remus finally shoved him off.

“I’ll flirt with you more if you let poor Lily get to her bed,” you reasoned, helping the boy right himself on the couch, carding your fingers through his hair, smiling when he caught your palm and pressed a kiss there too.

“You’re both awful,” Remus mused, standing and stretching, readying himself to leave too. He was full of affection as he said it, bending to press his own kisses to your and Sirius’ heads, doing the same to Lily and a sleeping James before he slipped out the door.

“I’m not awful,” Sirius responded a beat too late, frowning at the closed door. “M’the best. Aren’t I, darling?”

You snorted, nodding placatingly as you dragged Sirius from the sofa, groaning as you tried your best to heave all his long limbs up from the cushions. He finally stood, heavy boots keeping him rooted to the spot despite the way he swayed a little, his wide hands warm on your waist, silver rings glinting in the candlelight.

He smiled down at you, sleepy and soft, a little lovesick and it made your heart jump in your chest. He was too pretty, full lips, dark features, strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, wild hair.

“Nice sweater,” he hummed, voice dropping to a level you recognised all too well. Low, raspy, too warm. “Suits you.”

You burned under his attention, forehead butting against his chest as you ducked away from his heavy gaze, murmuring a quiet warning into the bare strip of skin between his open buttons. “Sirius, behave.”

He didn’t. He never did.

Sirius misbehaved all the way home, hands sneaking around your waist mid walk, catching you just to bring you against his chest to tell you how pretty you looked, how nice you smelled, how much better his shirt looked on you than him - but wouldn’t it look even better on the bedroom floor?

“You’re drunk,” you told him, pleased with his attempt at flirting all the same, flushed and flustered, ‘cause even after years, Sirius Black knew how to make you weak in the knees.

He hummed, kiss over your neck and the skin he made appear on your shoulder, greedy hands tugging at your collar. “That I am,” he agreed. He swayed a little again, a hiccup leaving his lips as you unlocked your front door. “But you’re pretty. And when I’m hungover and suffering in the morning, you’ll still be pretty.”

[danikamariewrites]

Can i pls request part to of clingy reader with azriel and Rhysand rhysriel poly ddlg relationship

Like where rhys and Azriel will do readers hair and pick out her outfits and tie her corsets and shoes for her and will treat her like a princess like complete princess treatment

and shes completely spoiled by both of them in all sense of the word in both attention and physical touch and words of affirmation and all the time they spend together and gifts aswell

but reader loves to spoil them to and is a complete total sweetheart and good girl for them like she is just so sweet and loving unless provked of course like reader wi speak up for herself and mates

Thank u for all the rhysand and Azriel (rhysriel content by the way your single handly feeding my addiction/obsession with rhysand and Azriel

All For You

Rhysriel x reader

A/n: I needed to write this bc I have been craving them so bad. I am always happy to supply Rhysriel ddlg content, they are quickly becoming one of my fav pairs

Warnings: ddlg, daddy kink

The thing you cherish most in the world is your relationship with your mates

Az and Rhys are so attentive and caring with you

Taking care of you is their favorite, especially when you’re good for them

And how can you not be their good girl when they literally do everything for you? You are sure if you said you never wanted to walk again the two of them would carry you everywhere

Az and Rhys have never given you a reason to be bratty

if you ask for something and they say no or not right now they immediately follow it up with a solution so you aren’t upset, “No darling, but if you can wait an hour then we can do whatever you want.”

When you’re extra good they spoil you rotten

Rhys is a big gift giver so he showers you in presents

He gives you jewelry, trips, clothes, shoes, you name it he buys it

Azriel is the one who hand delivers the gifts to you and makes a big show about it. Especially bc Rhys had requested the store wrap it up all pretty so you have something to open (like on solstice!)

When Azreil comes home with your gift(s) you get so excited and jumpy Az has to calm you down before you can open it

You somehow always end up hanging out in Rhys’ office when he comes home. Azriel comes in, big present box in hand and you jump up from your seat at the sight. “Princess calm down,” he says with a slight giggle in his voice. You sit back down in the arm chair you were currently reading in. Rhys smiles at you and Azriel from his desk

Azriel looks at Rhys, asking for permission to give it to you and the High Lord nods. Ripping the box open and seeing your new treat you start to scream from happiness. “AAAHHH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU DADDY!” They both have huge smiles on their faces as they watch you admire your new gift. “You are very welcome darling.” Rhys says, striding over to you and giving you a kiss on your forehead

You’re also huge on physical attention from them (out of the two I think Azriel gives the best hugs)

You like the usual sitting on their laps while they work and cuddles but the little touches are the best

Like holding their hands, putting an arm around you, a hand on the small of your back

Also forehead and nose kisses from Azriel are top tier

And your favorite, the thing that makes you melt is when they play with your hair

It’s just so relaxing

You lay on their thighs while they run their fingers through your hair. When Azriel does it he hums to you a little

Going to the Hewn City isn’t your favorite, but Rhys always gives you a sparkled new outfit to wear and you sit on his lap all night and he traces little patters on your thighs, softly kisses your neck and jaw.

“Enjoying the little show we’re putting on, darling?” He purrs. “Yes daddy.” You say in an equally sultry tone

I think Rhys is the one who is always giving you words of affirmation. It’s bc he likes to remind you and Azriel of how loved and perfect you both are

Just like you, Rhys and Azriel have their days where they are down and need you

They’ve been through a lot and you recognize that. Making sure you tell them they you love being with them and they’re the best mates you could’ve asked the Mother for really helps them

Other days they need more and you have no shortage of praise for your mates

Azriel is not himself when he comes home from hard missions or he has an off day

You pick up on it immediately, priding yourself on being one of the few people that can read him so well. You set out to make him feel better

Since our shadow boy definitely has a sweet tooth you sneak out of the house to the candy shoppe for a box of Azriel’s favorite fudge

Coming home you find him zoned in on work. Too zoned in. Clearing your throat Azriel looks up at you with a semi-annoyed look. You give him a sheepish smile, “I could tell today was a bad day for you so I got you some fudge.” You say softly, holding up the small box

Azriel instantly melts and gestures for you to sit on the couch. Smiling, you skip over to meet him, instantly snuggling into his side as he wraps a wing around you. Cutting him a piece of the fudge you feed it to him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “I love you daddy, never forget that.” “Never princess.” He whispers, kissing your nose softly

Rhys is down when a meeting doesn’t go the way he wants or he gets bad news from Illyria

He try’s to hide that he’s upset, not wanting his bad mood to affect you and Az so Rhys keeps to himself

I think Rhys likes quality time when he’s upset so you always make sure to stay close with him

At first you start the day just reading in an armchair in his office. Then you make sure he eats lunch with you and Azriel. When Rhys goes back to work you go back your book but move to one of the chairs in front of his desk. A few hours after lunch you make tea and talk a little

After tea you clean up and then abandon your book to sit in Rhys’ lap

You rest your head in the crook of his neck, slowly running your fingers through his perfect raven hair and occasionally rubbing the back of his neck until he’s wrapped around you

“You’re perfect my little darling. You know that?” He hums out. You hug him tightly, “You don’t have to go through your bad days alone. I’m here for you daddy.”

[aprilthearcher]

pining and anticipation [roman roy x reader]

word count: 1.1k 

warnings: cursing, sex jokes, idk it’s roman (what else do you expect?) english is not my first language, so there could be some mistakes. not edited. also, the longest elevator ride ever. not my picture.

wrote this while listening to “dress” by taylor swift, so you might want to listen to it too. 

“Are you wearing a tie?”

The silence in the elevator was corrupted by her question. In the second it took him to respond, the only sound to be heard was the soft music playing on the speakers.

“I mean it’s hanging round my neck, isn’t it?” His sarcastic answer should’ve probably gone unnoticed by her because of how much he used them and how usually she heard them, but there was something… off. Roman wearing a tie was off, and his whole demeanour, which she’d started to take notice of just now, was getting weirder. He was stiff. He was never stiff. Roman was always jumping up and down, even on the small space of the lift. 

“Well, yeah, but you never use one,” she squinted her eyes, staring at him and trying to come up with the reason for this new “formality”. Her eyes left his face for a moment to look at the simple, black tie adorning his chest. It was crooked and the knot was not right, almost as if it was completed out of desperation. Her fingers were twitching to mend the mess he’d done while putting it on.

“It’s just a tie, I guess,” Roman tried to sound (and look) relaxed, unfazed by her interrogating eyes. Did she have to know fucking everything? 

“And yet, I’ve never seen you wearing one.”

What was the problem with him wearing a fucking tie for once? Roman thought. She had a problem with them, now? He was wearing one for her in the first place, to try to look more ‘put together’ or whatever the hell that fucking article on the Internet had said. He had spent a solid thirty minutes trying to get the knot right — he was sure he had never put some much effort on something —, but his fingers would all clash against each other, the fabric was getting wrinkled with each attempt he failed, and his screams at the Youtube video that was supposed to help him to “get the perfect Windsor knot” would soon alert the whole apartment complex; not that he’d care but he was getting louder, he had a pounding head to account for that.

“Who are you, my fucking mother now? Interrogating me on a fucking tie? Sorry, fucking tie-police, I’ll take it off then, if it fucking bothers you so much.”

She had always wondered whether “fuck” and all of it derivatives had been Roman’s first words since there was never a day that passed by in which he didn’t — fucking — (over) use them. 

He had started to move around the elevator to shake off the tie, unbuttoning two bottoms of his white, spotless shirt. His hair was starting to get wilder when she grabbed his hand clawing at the piece of fabric. 

“Don’t take it off, it... it... It looks good,” she said lightly. Roman stopped moving, as if he had been petrified all of a sudden. “But, just, let me put it right because this knot, it’s not even a knot, Roman.” Her fingers started moving around his neck, lifting the collars of his shirt after bottoming up only one of the buttons Roman had undone, unravelling the mess he’d done in just a few seconds.

“What if it’s a tie knot of my own creation, huh? Should I call it the ‘Roman Roy knot’, then?” 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes in response, a small upturn of her lips getting comfortable in her face. “Yeah, sure, only you would know how to do this mess.” He started moving again so she wrapped a hand around the tie and yanked down, then forward to keep him still. 

“You’re getting all kinky here, (Y/N). I mean, I get it, elevator, me, the man of your wet dreams, and you, in that pencil skirt that hugs your a..”

The back of her hand slapped his shoulder. “Shut up, Roman.”

“Geez, not in the mood, got it. Maybe when we get to my office, I got a new desk I’d like you to…”

She tightens the tie, hard, now sporting the perfect Windsor knot, to shut him up. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, slightly choked, his neck a little bit red. She might’ve done it with just some pressure on purpose.  “I’m into choking too, you know”. 

You could never win with him. One minute he was as stiff as a board, and now he was cracking up sex jokes, one after the other. 

The elevator came to a stop a second after (Y/N) had finished accommodating the tie around Roman’s neck. She peered at him, biting down her lower lip in an attempt to stop herself from kissing his cheek. The pining had her heart about to burst out of her ribcage. 

It was when the elevator’s doors opened that she felt Roman’s hands sliding down to her hips. It made her want to scream. She was sure Roman’s  fingerprints would leave their mark on her skin, no matter the fabric in between. The touch and the look in his brown eyes, shining under the soft glow of the yellow-tinted lights. All of it made her want to scream. The years they spent together and the years they spent apart from each other.

An irritated, low cough broke them apart. About to enter the elevator was Frank. Roman glanced at his face while sporting a smirk on his own. Frank had his eyebrows raised, his eyes set on him and not his daughter. 

“Dad,” started (Y/N), shaking her head. Before she could assure her father any of the thoughts running through his head were incorrect, Roman interrupted her.

“If you excuse us, Frank, we have very important things to do.” 

He guided (Y/N) out of the elevator with one of his hands on her lower back, mirth all over his face when he peeped over his shoulder to take a look at Frank, now inside the lift. 

Frank watched them walking down the hallway, Roman’s hand going lower. He averted his eyes just as the doors of the elevator started to close to not see where it would land on his daughter’s body. He thinks he heard her voice screaming at the man, who responded with what sounded just like a hyena’s laugh. Frank rolled his eyes, sighing in annoyance at both of their antics. Some part of him wanted them to get over whatever fears they’d felt and just get together, or whatever. It was exhausting, the tension everytime they came into the room. The furtive glances at each other when one of them wasn’t looking all throughout important meetings, the petty fights, the name-calling, the yelling and then a second later, the laughs they would share in complicity. Though, he wasn’t convinced it’d changed much, anyways. 

[lovely-vanserra-sunshine]

this ain't no love that's guiding me

Thank you so much to the mods in charge @erisweekofficial! I'm so excited to participate in my very event week!

Written for day 2 - childhood/legacy

Summary: Eris knew this arrangement was inevitable. He was the Autumn Heir and Autumn Heirs need to have a wife and child. What he wasn’t expecting was just how soon it would happen.

With the situation uncertain and new, Eris needed to adapt fast to his surroundings, learn how to say the right things, and wear the mask that made his father proud. Thankfully, growing up in the Autumn Court taught him how to mature quickly.

Warnings: mentions of child abuse, arranged marriage

Read below or on ao3!

Looking at himself in the mirror one last time, Eris reached a trembling hand up to smooth out the fine hairs that refused to lie flat. Not even the servants, who fluttered around him like a swarm of flies from the moment he was woken up that morning, could do anything to slick back all of his slippery, copper hair into the leather tie at the nape of his neck. The baby hairs flew in odd directions and frizzed the more they were messed with.

His fingers traced idly over the bridge of his nose, feeling the slime of the creams that were thrust upon his face, made up of a combination of honey, leaves, and flowers. It reminded him distinctly of his etiquette tutor. She was strict, and reeked of a floral perfume.

Eris asked his servants multiple times if the facial cream was necessary, if it really was, in fact, what the boys his age were putting on their faces. They all reassured him, in tones that increased in gentle exasperation as time wore on, that the facial cream was normal and was only there to make his skin appear healthier. No one would notice, they said.

Eris noticed though. The cream seemed to make the freckles across his nose brighter, bringing about an innocent appearance that seemed to cling to Eris no matter how hard he tried to rid himself of it.

As he stood there in his bedchambers, alone for the first time all day, the silence that Eris usually took comfort in, suddenly brought a flurry of twists and flips in his stomach, like the way the leaves outside would whirl when a storm was coming.

What if he stepped on the female’s foot? Or his hands were so sweaty, her fingers slipped right out of his? Or even worse, what if the steps he was forced to practice nearly every evening with his instructor vanished from his memory, leaving him to trip and stutter in front of the entire ballroom?

Everyone would be watching, their eyes full of mirth and delight, sneering, “look at the Autumn Heir, can’t even manage a simple dance.” His parents would watch on, and what would be worse—his father’s rage and disappointment or his mother’s concern and pity?

Eris allowed his eyes to trail over his face, noting with a wince how his face had flushed so severely that his freckles were no longer visible. He took a deep and unsteady breath in, held it, willed away the rosy cheeks, and let out a shaky exhale. 

He would be fine. He had to be.

There was a knock on the door behind him. 

“Come in,” he called, voice high and squeaky. The urge to scream in frustration was only squashed by the unbridled tremors that wracked his body.

“My,” his mother sighed, appearing behind Eris in the mirror. Her hands reached out as if she would place them on Eris’s shoulders, but then she hesitated, and they fell flat to her sides. “You look so handsome, Eris.”

Handsome.

The harmless comment somehow hit him hard. Eris knew he possessed no handsomely rugged features or large bones that Autumn court males were supposed to have. And he knew, even as young as he was, that all the other boys his age were starting to fare much better than he was. They, at least, had grown taller and some lucky ones even had hair under their arms. They weren’t constantly told they were too small, or had eyelashes that were too long, or had delicate fingers that were too graceful for someone who was supposed to wield a sword.

Eris met his mother’s gaze in the mirror only briefly. Those russet eyes used to hold endless warmth when she made eye contact with Eris. But now, as of recent months, they always seemed vacant. Like she wasn’t listening to anything Eris told her, and she was no longer interested in the things they used to do together.

He dropped his eyes to the bump hidden underneath the layers of her dress, at the way her hands rested upon her stomach. It didn’t look like much, not with the careful way she arranged her skirts, but Eris knew, and the resentment burned stronger and stronger each day that bump grew. 

“Feeling nervous?”

“Nervous?”

Eris’s breath caught in his throat. He thought he was getting better at it, at hiding his nerves, thought he was getting good at pretending. His father wouldn’t approve of this and he’d definitely leave a mark on Eris’s skin if he even heard of it. The simple thought sent his heart racing.

He quickly cycled through responses.

Not at all nervous.

Maybe a little.

Was it too obvious?

But which would please Mother?

And which would please Father?

Eris squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, practiced that certain little, head tilt that he always thought made him look a little crossed-eyed as he looked down his nose, but it usually brought about a prideful smirk from Father, so it must not be as clumsy as he thought it looked.

“Not at all.”

His mother frowned, and Eris quickly dropped the look and fiddled with the strands of his baby hairs again.

Not the right response then.

She watched him for a moment, and then her mouth quirked on one side.

“Not nervous at all?” she asked, chin gesturing to his nervous hands.

“No.”

She let out a small snort and brought her hands up quickly toward his face. Eris’s reaction was immediate and instinctual. It happened so fast, he wasn’t even aware he did anything until he saw the way Mother’s face fell and her eyes took on that far away look again.

In the mirror, he saw his stiff, bony shoulders lifted up toward his ears, saw the clenched fists at his side. Belatedly, he realized he had gasped.

It was quiet for a moment. Eris wasn’t sure if either of them were breathing. And then, slowly, she reached her hand once more toward him and Eris did everything in his power to hold still as she placed her palm against his hairline and allowed her hands to warm against his skin. With gentle fingers, she trailed them slowly over the frizzy baby hairs, silently pulling some longer strands of hair out of his leather tie and twisting it, heating it as she went. When she got to the ends, she started over. 

Eris wasn’t sure what was going on or how to process all of the conflicting emotions. Everything was confusing. Like there was a raging tornado inside his head.

He felt the beginnings of his throat close up, and it finally dawned on Eris, as the pressure behind his eyes began to burn, that the only thing he really longed to do was crawl into Mother’s arms and cry.

Instead, he bit his bottom lip, and pushed his head gently into his mother’s warm hands. She smiled at him, one full of warmth. 

“I’m afraid you’ve inherited these unruly baby hairs from me, my firefly,” she whispered. She brought her hands up again to slide them slowly over his hair once more. “Luckily for you, I know how to work with them.”

She gently, and ever so slowly, placed her fingers under his chin and raised his head. His hair was finally lying obediently with all the others, twisted into somewhat lazy braids on either side of his head.

Eris couldn’t lie when he thought the braids made his hair look even shinier and feather soft. It showcased the delicate point in his ears and the golden piercings that glinted against the candlelight. He tilted his head left and right, admiring the array of colors that shone in his hair.

Then he caught a glimpse of his face and discovered, to his horror, how the hairstyle accentuated his eyes and his cheekbones, how it emphasized his innocence and made him look frail and delicate. Like a maiden. Like the maiden he was expected to woo today. He wrinkled his nose. 

“Will other boys—they don’t—I’m going to be…” he stuttered and broke off abruptly.

“They’ll have braids in their hair too.”

“But Father. He won’t…” like the way I look, he filled in silently. 

“Never mind your father.”

“But—”

“You are the heir to the High Lord of Autumn, Eris,” she interrupted. “What you do and what you wear, whether it’s in style or not, will become fashion. If they’re not wearing braids today, then they’ll be wearing braids tomorrow.” She stopped to catch her breath, her face flushed.  “And your father, whether or not he approves of your hair, will approve of the way you set standards for others.”

Eris was skeptical, but the weight of his mother’s eyes on him combined with the subtle nod of her head made him feel slightly better. He could at least admit that she was right about him setting trends. It also helped that her words were different than what he heard all day.

Don’t worry about what everyone else thinks.

“Okay,” he finally uttered.

She smoothed her hands over his head one last time, exhaling slowly. In a softer tone, she said, “I’ll have to teach you how to work with those pesky hairs.”

"I'd like that."

“I’ve been meaning to teach you, but…” she trailed off, her hands coming to rest on her stomach. Eris didn’t miss the way her eyes seemed to do that thing again, where it looked like she wasn’t looking at anything. “Well, I’ve been very busy.”

“I know, Mother.”

He didn’t know, actually. He never saw her. In fact, he was certain she stayed in her private chambers for as long as she could.

“Maybe one day…” she started again, her hands still rubbing absentminded circles on her stomach.

They hadn’t talked about it at all. That bump of hers. Eris wasn’t sure if he was supposed to know about it, since neither Mother nor Father had spoken of it once. He had no idea what to make of it, especially since it had only ever been him and his parents for almost a decade now.

“Well, I suppose you have other manners to attend to,” she said, making her way toward the door.

“Yes, Mother.”

“I will see you at the banquet.”

“Yes, Mother.”

She stopped at the door and turned, hesitating. Taking a deep breath, she looked back at Eris, her russet eyes sharp again.

“You’ve inherited more than just my unruly hair, Eris,” she said slowly. “Your cheekbones and lips are mine, I’d say. And you have my quick wit, curios mind, and kind heart.”

She took another calculated breath, and with it, came a quick flare of heat that blew through the room, fanning across Eris’s cheeks in a whisper.

“And I don’t care what anyone in this Cauldron forsaken court says, but that fire in your blood is from my family line.”

The candles around the room flickered at once and Mother stopped to take another deep breath. She smoothed her hands over the front of her dress, those fingers stilling over that bump. The candles settled.

“Your grandfather passed down his love of dancing to me,” she said, quieter now, “and I don’t mean to boast, but it’s because of him that I have become the dancer that I am today.”

Memories suddenly flooded Eris’s vision, of his mother gliding across the empty ballroom floors with a young Eris on her hip. They spun and spun until Eris got dizzy and begged her to stop. And she laughed and continued dancing by herself. Eris, only five at the time, watched in amazement as she seemed to float around the room, somehow taking up all the space with lively movements and a radiant smile.

“I have no doubt in my mind that you have inherited that trait, as well,” she said quietly, the fire in her eyes starting to dim and return to those warm, brown eyes that Eris was once so familiar with. “If your grandfather could see you tonight, I know he’d be proud.”

She bowed her head briefly, and then turned on her heel, her skirts flying out around her. Eris stared at the spot she once stood for a moment longer, absorbing everything. Despite the raging emotions inside of him, her words had given him a slight reprieve.

Turning his attention back to the mirror, Eris slid the golden leafed diadem over his hair and let the flames alight in his eyes. He was ready.

Read part 2 here.