#Sorry it turned out like this but I was tagged and felt the need to be honest

[chososcamgirl]

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER NINETEEN: toothpaste

masterlist

*if you want the full sjap chososcamgirl experience click here!

Toothpaste.

That was all she needed.

The familiar jingle of the doorbell sounded as she stepped into the pharmacy, its ring echoing briefly before being swallowed by the soft hum of fluorescent lights above. She moved past the aisles with purpose, the faint scent of antiseptic and the bittersweet smell of charcoal lingering in the air.

At the counter, a brown-haired girl in her late twenties leaned against the register, lazily blowing out smoke from a cigarette.

"Shoko," her name tag read in bright red letters.

Pretty name.

"Hey," she muttered, a casual greeting as she passed. The girl didn't look up, but offered a half-hearted smile, her eyes unfocused as she exhaled smoke, lost in whatever thoughts dulled her day.

Toothpaste.

The word repeated in her head like a quiet mantra, the task simple, mundane. She wandered down the aisles with mechanical precision, her gaze flicking over shelves of medicines and other pharmacy essentials.

Her fingers brushed against boxes, but she didn't really look at them. She wasn't here to linger.

And then she stopped.

A stillness took hold of her. Her body froze mid-step, her pulse quickening in a way that had nothing to do with the cold air of the aisle.

In the distance, there was a figure. His back was to her, his face buried in his hands, almost in a gesture of resignation or frustration. His stance was familiar in an unsettling way, as if he was trying to disappear into the shelves, as if he were searching for something he didn't know how to find.

She stood there for what felt like an eternity, the hum of the lights suddenly deafening in her ears. The shape, the posture, the way his shoulders slumped-it was him.

For a moment, she debated standing there. Still, until he noticed her. 

Then, just as her mind screamed at her to stay, she saw him start to turn—his head shifting, eyes beginning to look her way.

Her heart slammed against her ribcage, and without thinking, she bolted. She pivoted on her heel, her breath quick and shallow as she darted toward the next aisle, her legs carrying her as fast as they could.

She whips out her phone in frustration and starts furiously typing.

“Hey.”  

She freezes, fingers hovering over the screen of her phone, her mind torn between the message she was about to send and the voice she recognizes. Slowly, she looks up.  

His gaze locks with hers.  

Megumi Fushiguro.  

Her eyes narrow, irritation flaring as she exhales sharply. Without a word, she pushes past him, intent on finding what she came for. 

Toothpaste.  

The aisle ahead is a chaotic jumble of brightly coloured shampoo and conditioner bottles—too many choices, too many distractions. She weaves through the sea of products, her focus narrowing to the search for the one thing she came here for.  

“Yn, please, I’m sorry.”  

The words make her blood boil. God, she hates the tone he’s using. It’s almost like he doesn’t get it.  

She bites her lip, trying to ignore the sting of his voice, but before she can refocus, she feels his hands settle gently on her shoulders. It takes all her willpower not to jerk away.  

Not now, Megumi. 

Finally, she spins around, giving him the sharpest glare she can muster.  

“What do you want, Megumi?” she spits, every syllable laced with frustration.  

His frown deepens, his eyes flicking to her lips, a hesitant tension hanging between them. He bites his lip, visibly unsure of how to proceed.  

“I just... I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”  

Her jaw tightens, and she shoots a pointed glance back at the shelves, pretending to be absorbed in the endless row of oral care products. She couldn’t care less about his apology.  

“I heard you the first time,” she mutters, grabbing the toothpaste off the shelf with one hand, her grip tight and fingers stiff. 

A beat of silence stretches between them. Megumi’s voice cuts through again, softer, but with the same persistent edge.  

“So... you’ll forgive me?”  

She scoffs, shaking her head with a bitter laugh, her patience wearing thin. Of course, he would ask something so dumb.  

Finally, her eyes land on the familiar packaging.

Toothpaste.

She picks it up, turning to face him with a glare that could melt stone.  

“No. And if that’s all you have to say, then I’m leaving.” 

With that, she brushes past him once again, this time with more force, walking swiftly toward the checkout counter. She can still smell the lingering scent of cigarettes, the same stale air she’d walked into when she first arrived.  

The conveyor belt moves slowly beneath her, and she places the toothpaste down with a faint clink. Her fingers automatically slip into her pocket, searching for her wallet.  

And then, she hears it—the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her.  

She doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is. Her shoulders sag, frustration mounting in her chest. Of course he’d follow me.

She groans internally, preparing herself for whatever nonsense he’ll say next.

"Will this guy ever get a fucking life?" she mutters under her breath, barely holding back an eye roll.

“I got it,” a voice called from behind her.

The cashier, unfazed by the tension hanging in the air, set her pornographic magazine aside and casually picked up the toothpaste. Her cigarette, still smouldering in her mouth, bobbed up and down as she scanned the item, her expression completely indifferent to the moment's awkwardness.

She paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied Megumi from head to toe, as if waiting for him to do something else.

"Oh shit, uh, and these too," he stammered, placing the box of Magnum condoms on the conveyor belt, nervously scratching his neck.

Yn's eyes flickered to the box and then back to him. "Big night planned, huh?" she said, her voice dripping with mock amusement as she glared at the condoms.

Megumi’s face reddened. "Oh, uh, those aren’t for me," he mumbled, his discomfort palpable.

She merely gave a disinterested "Mhm," chewing the inside of her gum as the cashier processed the transaction.

Megumi opened his mouth, ready to defend himself, but was cut off by her.

"Did you guys want a bag?" she asked flatly.

"Yeah, please," Yn answered quickly, eager to leave the awkwardness behind.

The sound of plastic rustling filled the silence, only intensifying the tension. The cashier bagged their items with a practised, almost bored efficiency—as if this kind of transaction was the least exciting thing to happen all day.

Before Megumi could protest any further, a cloud of smoke from the cashier’s cigarette drifted in their direction. She didn’t even flinch.

“That’ll be 4250 yen, please,” she said lazily, still grinning, unfazed by the duo hacking their lungs out from the smoke.

Megumi quickly covered his mouth with his arm, pulling out his wallet with the sort of frantic haste only a person desperate to escape awkwardness can manage. He fumbled with his card, sliding it into the reader. The machine beeped.

Yn grabbed the bag in one swift motion, already on her way out of the store.

Megumi, looking flustered but relieved, gave a curt nod to the cashier before jogging after her, eager to leave the bizarre scene behind.

The cashier took another slow drag from her cigarette, her eyes following the two figures darting across the parking lot. She exhaled a thick plume of smoke, watching them with a detached amusement, tinged with something darker—something she didn’t care to name.

"Kids," she muttered to herself, shaking her head with a soft, resigned chuckle before turning her attention back to the magazine before her, as if it might shield her from whatever she couldn’t bear to witness.

—

The sharp click of shoes on wet concrete echoed in the cold night, piercing the stillness like a warning. 

"Yn, please!" Megumi’s voice cracked, strained with exhaustion and desperation as he closed the gap between them.

Yn kept her head down, hands shoved deep into her pockets, the cold metal of the keys biting into her skin. Her pace quickened, heart racing as though the faster she moved, the less likely he would be able to reach her, to make her turn around. She couldn’t hear him. Not now. Not when everything she’d been holding back was on the edge of spilling over.

"Megumi, stop," she whispered, voice tight, trembling at the edges. "I already told you, I—"

Before she could finish, she felt his hand grip her wrist, pulling her to a halt. The sudden force of it made her breath catch, and for a moment, she was still trapped between the pull of his touch and the weight of her own resolve.

She looked at him, and everything inside her stilled.

His eyes weren’t the same. They were darker now, heavy with something deeper than she had ever seen in them before. No arrogance. No defiance. Only raw, unfiltered regret. Sadness. The kind that seemed to press in on his chest, making it hard to breathe, to think. He couldn’t meet her gaze for long; his eyes flickered to the ground, and for a moment, he looked like he might break. Like his whole world was about to shatter into a thousand pieces, right there on the wet pavement.

"Yn, please," he whispered, voice breaking, so full of pain it made her chest tighten. "I never meant any of it. What I said... it was so fucking stupid. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to lose you. I know... I know it’s selfish, asking you to stay, but I can’t... I can’t lose you. Please." 

"Megumi, I—"

He cut her off, his voice hoarse, trembling with the weight of everything he hadn’t said before. "And I know you told me you weren’t ready for a relationship, and I’ve tried to understand that, to give you space. I’ve accepted it, even if it wasn’t easy. But..." His words faltered, and for a moment, he looked like he might swallow them back down, like they were too heavy for him to carry. But then he breathed in, steadying himself. 

"But Yn... I would wait a thousand lifetimes for you. I would wait forever, if that’s what it took, because I want to be with you. I need to be with you. And not just because I miss you, or because I feel lost without you, but because... because, Yn, I want you. In a way I never thought I could want anyone." 

He paused, the weight of his own confession sinking in, and when he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the space between them with the quiet intensity of a truth he could no longer keep buried. 

“So hate me all you want Yn, just please don’t shut me out. I’ve spent so much time thinking I could walk away, that I could let you go, but I can’t. I don’t want to. Not anymore." 

His chest rose and fell with the effort of his words, like he was trying to catch his breath after running a race he didn’t even know he was in. His body trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer force of his emotions breaking through. His hand clenched at his side, his knuckles white, as if holding on to something he might lose if he let go. His eyes were fixed on hers, pleading without words, desperate without asking. 

For the first time in a long time, there was no bravado, no walls between them. Only the quiet truth of a man who had finally realised that what he felt for her wasn’t something he could walk away from. And he was asking—no, begging—for her to see it, to feel it, too.

His grip on her wrist tightened, his fingers trembling. He looked away, unable to meet her eyes, as though the weight of his own guilt might crush him if he held her gaze for too long. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the torrent of emotion that was threatening to spill over, but it was there—raw, uncontained.

Yn exhaled, the weight of his words settling over her like a fog. She wanted to pull away, to shut herself off from him—everything inside her screaming for distance—but she couldn’t. Not with him standing there, broken, stripped bare in front of her. 

She shook her head slowly, the words thick in her throat. "Megumi... I could never hate you." The confession hung in the air between them, fragile and heavy with everything they had left unsaid. 

His eyes snapped back to hers, searching for something—anything—that would give him hope. And in that moment, when the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them, a single streetlight flickered above them, casting his face in a pale, golden halo. She froze. In that soft glow, she remembered. She remembered how he had always been beautiful—how she saw him for the first time underneath the lucent lights with his guitar, to the man standing in front of her carrying nothing but a bag of toothpaste and condoms. For a fleeting second, it felt like time had both stopped and rewound, all at once.

A fragile shift passed between them, unspoken but undeniable. His hand slipped from her wrist, fingers brushing lightly against her skin as if afraid to touch her too firmly, as if the very act of reaching for her might undo them both. But then, with no more hesitation, no more words to hold them back, he kissed her.

It wasn’t a kiss of anger, of apology, or even of reconciliation. It was everything—everything they’d held back, buried too deep for too long. The crash of everything unspoken, everything broken, everything still raw between them. It was the kiss they should have shared ages ago, but neither of them had been ready for. It was the space between their words—the silence that had stretched so long, finally, finally given form. 

And in that kiss, there was no more distance. No more fear. No more hesitation. Just the weight of everything they hadn’t let go of, suddenly, impossibly, all at once.

extras!

• panda sent the ynmegumi gc a text like “plan in motion” so they all celebrated with a movie night (??)

• dunno know WHY they thought it would work

• it did so ig it’s okay…

• they knew their plan worked after ynmegumi turned their location sharing off LMFAOOOO

• shoko was definitely fan service for ree (are you reading this ree? are you?? are you?? did you like it??? do i get a kiss on the cheek?? do i??)

• but her working in the pharmacy isn’t THAT ooc so #cry

• she did not gaf about ynmegumi😭 she just let them have their moment

• brought her flashbacks to stsg gay asses #LetGodBeTrueQuickly🙌🙌

• yn wants to be main character soooo bad omfg girl give it up

• complete parking lot fight slash makeup scene cliché SUE ME

• btw they left the toothpaste out on the gravel for some reason so yn did in fact not get the stupid ass toothpaste

• got the condoms though😛😛😛

• yuta will definitely be questioning as to why they were open

• may or may not have done something not very sft in the car but hey!! you didn’t hear it from me…

a/n: aaaand we’re back!!! how’s everyone doing? good? okay? horrible? all three? same❤️ i hope this sufficed for taking a week off (i’m still in my shackles) this was probably my favourite chapter to write. gonna lie and say it didn’t make me teary eyed towards the end… champagne coast being the recommended song of the week even though it was a gag for the first chapter is a full circle moment. a bit of tzc reeferences sprinkled in the chapter bc i love those girls to death (even though mitch gave up on chapter 2… she didn’t even make it to lesbian digresser… #shitfriendmoment😒) ANYWAYS enjoy and see you guys tmr!! <3

taglist: @shokosbunny @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @sluttkuna @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm @syxoki

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

[komoriiis]

May i pls request fem!reader x sevika? I've been fallen for her since 3 years ago and after her scenes in ep 2 i was so in awe and giddy i need to read more of her 😭🤲

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐊𝐀 ( 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 ) — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐂𝐒

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖞𝖕𝖊 :: bullet points / short drabble

˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝐤𝖔𝖗𝖎 :: im absolutely in love with sevika too so this was really good timing!! ive been wanting to write for her and viktor for the longest time :3 i hope youre okay with me doing general hcs, i didnt know if you wanted anything specific so i just did this 😋 also, sorry if she turned out ooc, this is my first time writing for arcane characters 😓

[ masterlists ]

ᥫ᭡ sevika will be the most protective gf ever—anywhere you go, she’ll always be 2 steps behind looking out for you!

ᥫ᭡ its not that she doesn’t think you can take care of yourself, but its just who she is. she gets worried, especially if you’re wandering around in the undercity

ᥫ᭡ she will 100% be your biggest hype woman. whenever you wear something new for date night, you can see her pupils dilating when looking at you with a small smirk on her face

ᥫ᭡ rather than hand holding i think she would be someone to wrap her arms around your waist, almost possessive in a way. when shes not doing that though, she would want you to have a hand holding onto her biceps

ᥫ᭡ will never ever let you tag along with anything work related. shes pretty dead set on separating you with her dirty work, for your safety

ᥫ᭡ some nights when it gets bad, she just wants you to hold her. don’t say anything. don’t ask her questions. just be with her until the next morning

ᥫ᭡ she loves to bring you back little trinkets or accessories from her missions that she thinks you’ll like / will look good on you. she would never admit it, but her heart always skips a beat when she sees you wearing something that she got for you herself

ᥫ᭡ lives for teasing/banter arguments. she finds it so hot when youre all riled up and mad at her, because she knows that she’ll make it up to you later anyways ( WHAAAT 😦 )

ᥫ᭡ she has insane mood swings on her period. one time, she accidentally snapped at you while you were trying to tell her about your day, and she felt so incredibly shitty for like 2 months

ᥫ᭡ sometimes, she gets nightmares of you dying in her arms due to an enforcer attack. its a reoccurring dream, and whenever she jolts awake in a cold sweat, you reassure her that you’re still there. you’re alive, and you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

ᥫ᭡ sevika finds it adorable when you give her little nicknames. “vika”, “sevi” , “baby” , and “big mama” ( hehe ) are her favorites

ᥫ᭡ tries to have a date night at least once every two weeks. of course she would like it if it happened more often, but with her schedule its just not possible. when you two do go on dates though, she makes sure to go all out and make it the most enjoyable experience for you

ᥫ᭡ her coworkers are so surprised at how soft she has gotten because of you. she has something to fight for other than zaun now, and once they get their promised land then she’ll finally settle down with you and live through the rest with you by her side

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐢𝐢𝐬. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 !

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: um I woke up to this in my head. Sorry.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You honk your horn as another driver slowly veers toward the line. You’re not letting them in. If they can’t weave in, then they aren’t fast enough to leave the slow lane. You sigh and gesture at them as kindly as you can in that instant. You have enough going on. 

Your phone starts to ring. Again. You tap the button on your steering wheel to answer. You would know who it is even without his custom ringtone. Your boss allows no space for breathing, even on a call. 

“How far out are you, pixie?” Lloyd asks as you growl and lean on the gas pedal. You hate driving on the highway, especially at night, and the sky is steadily dimming. 

“Close,” you assure him. “Next exit,” you flip your blinker on. 

“Thank god. You got everything?” 

Yeah, everything you forgot. You don’t give the dry retort aloud. You know better. Where your boss has no filter to be found, you find yourself often censoring yourself. As much for his ego as for others’. Arguing never gets you anywhere. 

“I believe so--” 

“You believe or you do?” He asks impatiently. 

“Mr. Hansen, I got everything on the list,” you assure him. “All with a bow on top.” 

“A life saver, pix, I swear,” he praises, but a compliment from him is rarely genuine, more transactional. You did him a favour so he’ll give you a treat. 

“Alright, I need to get over, ramp’s coming up. So--” 

“Yeah, yeah,” his ends rustles and you hear a muffled female voice, “I got shit going on too. You got the address, text me.” 

He hangs up first. You can never be the first to end the call. He has to make the decisions. You just know how to guide him to the right one. You merge into the exit lane and follow the ramp away from the whirring stream of headlight. Finally. 

You’re less than pleased to be within minutes of your destination. This isn’t how you envisioned your holiday. A last-minute itinerary change to fix yet another of Mr. Hansen’s oversights. It’s never a mistake, he’s just a man with so much going on that it slipped his radar. Another bandage for his ego. 

The slower pace feeds your agitation. At least on the highway, you felt like you were getting somewhere. The lazy roll of the cars in the town tweaks at the nape of your neck. You just want to be in one place and that won’t happen even when you get to Mr. Hansen. 

You’ll be lucky to have two hours of sleep before you have to catch your rebooked flight. Yep. You’ll play Santa and drop off your lot before hiding at the hotel long enough to dread the airport jungle. Then it’s off to your own familial obligations. Those are rarely enjoyable and being a day later than promised will hardly please your mother. 

Your phone announces your arrival at the destination. The long drive of the over-sized suburban mansion is full. You park on the street and turn on the interior light. You get out and open the back seat. The whole medley of shiny paper and quaffed bows stares back at you. 

You text Mr. Hansen and wait, huffing and puffing with impatience. Of course, you have to upheave your plans to meet his deadlines, but he’s taking his time. It’s not a surprise, not even a disappointment, you expected as much. 

“Pixieee,” Lloyd drags out the last syllable, “there you are, pretty pixie.” 

Pretty Pixie? He’s drunk or he’s going to ask for something else. You brace yourself as his shadow struts up the long driveway and passes beneath the cone cast by the tall street lights. Coloured lights glimmer over him from the eaves of the surrounding facades. 

“Mr. Hansen, wrapped, labelled, everything you requested,” you gesture to the backseat. 

“An angel. A true saviour, pixie,” he surprises you as he grabs your head, his palms pressing to your cheeks as he bends to kiss your forehead, “did I ever tell you you’re immaculate?” 

“Mr. Hansen,” you gently pull his wrists until he drops his hands. You smell the alcohol radiating off of him. 

“It’s the holiday, call me Lloyd, sweet cake,” he insists. 

“Right,” you tut and turn to drag out the largest gift bag, “here, you better just take all this, I have to check-in--” 

“About that,” he ignores the gift as you hold it out. “We’re just about to start dinner, you should pop in, have a bite.” 

“I can’t, Mr. Hansen--” 

“Of course you can,” he insists. You look up at him. His eyes gleam in the spectrum of lights shining from your car, the houses, and the tall poles. You sniff. He’s only tipsy, there’s still the hint of authoritarianism firmly implanted in his tone. “I told everyone you would.” 

“Everyone?” You echo anxiously. 

“The family,” he exclaims as if it should be obvious. 

“Okay, I can come say hello but--” you wiggle the bag at him. 

“Damn right you can,” he catches your hand and takes the bag. He drops it on the ground carelessly. 

“Mr. Hansen, that’s fragile,” you say. 

“Shhhh,” he grabs your hand and you curl and unfurl your fingers desperately, “Lloyd, remember?” He feels around in his pocket as he keeps you in his vice, “now, you just need to slip this on.” 

He struggles to line up the ring with your finger as you squirm in confusion. What is he doing? 

“Mr. Han--” 

“Lloyd,” he growls, all humour trickling away. He squeezes until you whimper. “Look, I just need you to smile and bat those long lashes of yours, alright?” 

“What’s going on?” 

“As far as anyone knows, I proposed to you on Thanksgiving,” he says. 

“Proposed?!” You nearly shriek. 

He hushes you again and finally rams the ring down to your knuckle. “Look, pixie, mommy’s being a real pain in my ass so you just need to play along.” 

“Mr.--” 

“If I have to tell you one more time--” 

“Lloyd,” you gulp, “please. I... this is... strange. What? Why? I have a flight in eight hours.” 

“Cancel it,” he sneers. “Double time and a half for holiday overtime. See the family in the New Year.” 

“What? That’s-- This is insane--” 

“This is your job, honey,” he clings to your hand. “To do what I say or you can spend your January trawling the job boards.” He squeezes until the band digs into your flesh. “Now, I know Mr. Walker thinks you’re darling and he offered you a role last year but once I tell him about your little defiance issue, I don’t think he’ll be interested--” 

“Huh?” 

“I know a lot more than you think,” he grits. “Alright? So let’s start getting this shit inside. That’ll give you a chance to get yourself together.” 

“Lloyd,” you gasp. “Why--” 

“No more fucking question. Since when did you get so uppity,” he barks. 

“Sir--” 

“Ah, none of that, either,” he lets you go and waggles his finger in your face. “Relax. Have some eggnog when we get inside and take the edge off.” 

“This can’t be happening,” you murmur. 

“It’s fucking happening, alright?” He picks up the bag off the ground. “I keep you around ‘cause you’re quick on your feet, Pix, so let’s get to it.” 

“Oh god,” you utter. 

“Keep it to yourself,” he warns. 

Your disbelief has you a bit dumb. You’re panicking. He knows you have an insurance policy with Walker and you have no doubt he’ll do all he can to spoil your future if you fuck around with his present. You’ve worked long enough for him to believe his threats, even when everything else is dubious. 

You turn and grab several gifts from the backseat. You move out of his way and he gathers some more himself. He backs up and uses his knee to close the door. He nods you toward the house. 

“Smile, act like you’re excited,” he commands. 

You pass him and stare up at the blaze of holiday lights. The lawn is decorated with a Santa and sleigh, complete with all his reindeer. You make the march up the walk and towards the glowing windows that trim the front door.  

Lloyd comes up next to you and kicks it, “open up.” 

It isn’t long before obedience appears from the other side. You do a double take at the man who answers the door. He looks a lot like Lloyd but not. He doesn’t sport the same bristly stache and his hair neatly combed, the sides unshaved but tidy. He rolls his eyes. 

“Was hoping you got lost in the snow,” the man scoffs. 

“Shut up,” Lloyd shoulders through, “always a fucking prick, Hugh.” 

The other man snarls, “don’t fucking call me that.” 

“Aw, I’m sorry, baby boy,” Lloyd puts the gifts on the bench against the wall, under the large mirror with an elaborate frame. “Why don’t you go suck on mommy’s teat?” 

“You’re disgusting,” the other man, Hugh, hisses. 

“Speak for yourself. We’re the OnlyFans thot? She not joining us?” 

“Oh, fuck you.” 

“Fuck you, fuck me, we already did this, remember?” Lloyd faces him. 

“And who’s this slut?” The man tosses you a sharp glare.  

“Woah, man, that’s my future wife,” Lloyd lies so easily it startles you. He sounds almost genuine and you’ve never heard him sound like that. “Not a slut, so keep your eyes and your hands to yourself.” 

“Huh, I didn’t believe it,” the man puts his hand on his hip as he looks you up and down, “she’s tiny.” 

You narrow your eyes, speechless as they talk about you like a new lamp. 

“Ransom,” Lloyd gestures to him derisively, “Pixie. Now you’ve met so you can skedaddle back to the liquor cabinet.” 

The man, Ransom, snickers, “good luck, sweetheart,” he scoffs. “If you need a drink, just look for me. You probably will. At least for the next forty years.” 

He struts off through the archway behind him and you look at Lloyd. He takes the armful of gifts from you and grumbles. He stops and crosses his arms.  

“Well, get your boots off. Mom will kill you if you’re tracking salt all over her freshly polished floors,” he shakes his head. “And a bit of advice, stay away from my cousin. Ransom’s a fucking pest.” 

“Right, sir.” 

He tilts his head and you show your palms, “Lloyd.” 

“Good girl,” he says and slips free of his loafers. “Now, you’re going to have to meet my parents before anyone else or I won’t hear the end of it. I’ve already got an earful. I know I shoulda booked that resort...” 

You unzip your boots and set them aside on the rack. You stand and he beckons you past the open archway and down the hallway. You take in the decor; gold on beige on ivory. It’s all very luxurious. 

He pushes through a white birch door and warmth enshrines you along with the smell of turkey. There’s a clattering beneath a shrill voice snapping out orders, “oh, not mashed, whipped!” 

A tall blonde woman crosses her arms as she hovers like a vulture over the aproned staff crowded around the large marble island. Lloyd grabs your hand and drags you after him. Your socks slip on the tile as dread coils up your limbs. 

“Mom, she’s here,” he announces as he gets close to her. 

“Ugh, about time, they already set the table and I was dreading the empty plate,” she slithers. She turns her chin down to see you, “Oh, look at her. She’s so... petite.” She levels her hand with the top of your head, “much different than I envisioned.” 

You look at Lloyd as he pushes his shoulders back. You’ve never heard anyone talk to him like that and you’ve never seen him so uptight. You turn your attention back to the woman. 

“Hello, Mrs. Hansen, it’s nice to meet you,” you offer your hand. 

She considers it then grabs it, turning the ring up. You examine the jewel as she does the same, your first glimpse at the thing. She harrumphs, “that’s the ring?” 

“Mom,” Lloyd utters. 

“Mm, very well. Dear, you may call me Gwenyth, not Mrs. Hansen,” she lets you go. “Now, dear son, out of my way. I’m trying to get dinner done.” 

Lloyd stares at her, almost expectantly, the takes your hand again and leads you away. He pulls you back through the door. You don’t dare say a word. He leads you away from the kitchen and the wall of voices buzzing from the front room. He guides you through the archway opposite and around to another door. 

He knocks and there’s a lull as you wait. He taps again. There’s coughing from the other side. “What do you want?” 

“Just me, Dad,” Lloyd answers. 

“Ugh, get in here then,” the timbre calls back. 

Lloyd twists the knob and urges you in ahead of him. The smell of cigar smoke blows in with the cold wind. A gray-haired man puffs by the window, his efforts to puff through the opening sabotaged by the wintry gusts. 

“Close the door. I don’t need the banshee sniffing me out,” he growls. 

“Sure,” Lloyd shuts the door. “Dad, uh, this is her. The woman I told you about. My fiance.” 

“Took you long enough,” the man sneers. You flinch and his grey eyes soften, “him, I mean. Forty-three years--” 

“Dad,” Lloyd rasps. 

“Well,” his father looks you over, “she’s young. Bit small...” 

You do your best not to let your annoyance show. So you’re a little shorter than average. 

“William,” he introduces himself, “and you are?” 

“Pixie,” Lloyd answers for you. 

“Didn’t ask you, boy,” William rebukes and keeps his eyes on you. “You smoke?” 

You mull his question and sigh, “never tried it but I guess it’s never too late to start.” 

William snorts, “truer words.” He puffs, “I don’t recommend it. Horrible habit.” He tamps out the stogie in a copper tray. “Well then, is the food ready, or did you just come to show me your woman?” 

Lloyd stiffens and touches your lower back, “guess I just came to do that.” He mutters, “come on, let’s go get something to drink.” He turns and opens the door. 

“Don’t let the smoke out,” William snips as you spin around. 

[halfbloodfics]

Hi! Yeah, so I desperately need a Pillow Fucking Snape who's needy for his Y/N as your sub!Snape headcannon made him 🥹👏 Skipping all the pleasantries here 'cus holy moly you got me with those headcannons and since you sent me here from the comments I went straight in for the request 👀❤️

A/N: {i have been wanting to write this, a sinfully long time. he's so sub its actually tragic. this is REALLY long im so sorry, but i really wanted to make it a sweet, long buildup of how much Sev really wants this woman :') Sev is literally like a feral cat experiencing love for the first time in this lmao}

title: let me get what i want

18+ minors dni

rating/tw: explicit, smut, brief mention of suicidal thoughts in very beginning

tags: solo smut, solo snape, sub!snape, snape centric pov, masterbation, insecurity, guilt, shame, kinda angsty, snape is touch starved, female professor reader

song: please, please, please let me get what i want by the smiths

MASTERLIST

~

Severus was a man not known for his indulgences. Everyone knew that. He knew that.

Gratification was a luxury he could never afford.

Growing up poor, Severus learned quick that what you desire is often not what you get. He had desired a lot of things before, certainly. To say he hadn't would be nothing but a lie. In the nights in his bedroom in that dusty old house on Spinners End, cowering in the corner, he desired for the drink in his fathers hand to put him to sleep at last. In his fifth year, glaring at the smirking upside down face of James Potter and Sirius black, he desired revenge. At 21, in the doorway of Dumbledore's office, when he learned the consequences of trust, he desired his death.

He had lived his entire life chasing his desires like a dog chasing the moon, knowing it was out of reach and yet too unevolved to understand how.

And yet... He had never felt his desire so, within grasp until he had met her. Those things of the past, poisonous, intangible pleasures, dark or light, had never been even remotely in reach.

She came into his life like a meteror, completely dashing across his sky, ripping him from the endless chase he had partoke in his entire life. Leading him on a completely seperate path, one he had never thought would ever find him...

True, honest, burning, desire.

The day she started teaching at Hogwarts in the middle of the year was a day like any other. Professor Sprout having retired rather abruptly, Severus didn't even spare a single thought at who would replace her. Why would he? For what reason? The weight of returning responsibilies lay heavy on his left forearm. Harry's 4th year, the emergence of his name from that god foresaken over-glorified cup; the promise of danger, the threat of a decade old vow..

The moment she walked in and sat beside him at the Professors table was hardly memorable, aside for the absolutely obnoxious outfit she were wearing.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he ate, interested only in seeing the face stupid enough to wear the brightest possible shade of yellow, in his presence, none the less.

When he found a rather young woman smiling at him, his gaze flicked away back to his plate. He had no interest. No desire, for conversation. And certainly not with someone resembling an overgrown daffodil.

It was barely the end of the first week when she had knocked on his door. Opening it and finding no one at his eye level, he glanced down.

Why on Earth, was she always wearing the horribly bright shade of yellow?

After she had given him an obscure collection of herbs, Severus thanked her with a brief nod before promptly closing the door on her face. He'd expected as much, Sprout and him had always had a decent, professional relationship. Their disciplines somewhat intertwined, Sprout had always provided him with the clippings of plants he needed, and in turn Severus had always provided her with whatever potions he could brew to help her plants. It wasn't the act that surprised him, but the way this new professor went about it.

She smiled a smile as bright as her shirt, every cursed night she knocked on his door. It was always something with this woman. A clipping, an herb, an old book. It was as if all things useful to him kept apparating in her office with a giant note saying "GIVE THIS TO THE GRUMPY GIT DOWN THE HALL."

Often times these gifts came along with unwanted and frankly unnecessary conversation. At first it was small talk, questions about his day, brief statements about yours. Often times she told him things about herself he didn't particularly care to know; such as what book she was reading, or how her vacation back home for the Holidays was.

What Severus did care for, was eye contact. It could have been the Occlumens in him, his guarded persona trying to gain some sense of dominance over the conversations where he usually felt none, an oppertunity to control.. to read.

And yet everytime he looked at her, he found her shining eyes looking right back up at him with a confidence that unnerved him. She stared him right in the eyes as he talked, not with a malice he had seen before, not with a fear he had grown accostomed to seeing and not even with an expectancy that so many demanded of him.

She looked at him like she could see right through him. As if she could see into every desire he ever had, as if his Occlumency skills were pointless against the skill of a 20 something year old Herbology Professor who hadn't even fought in the first Wizarding War.

And so reluctantly, as Severus took every gift with a nod and eventually a brief thanks, offering his own potions occasionally in return as he had so many times before despite feeling slightly unnerved.

The simple, professional relationship seemed to teeter on the edge of what was almost a-

"Friendship," She'd described it once in the doorway of his office. "It's a nice friendship we've got going on here, Severus. Thank you, for helping me, I appreciate it."

That was a word Severus hadn't clung to for quite some time.

He blinked, silent for several moments, for the first time in a long time almost uncertain of what to say. He hadn't considered her a friend, had he? Even as the months of the academic year had passed by, even as the conversation began to drift from work to hints of her personal life. Even as he found the corners of his lips occasionally twitching up in a smirk as she laughed her obnoxiously cheerful, loud laugh. Even after he began knocking on her door as she had knocked on his..

He hadn't even considered that she might have desired to be his friend. Or that he might have desired to be hers.

And in the months that passed by after that casual conversation, the one she had let slip likely without thinking twice, Severus found himself replaying the moment over and over in his head.

He found himself walking down the corridors between his lectures, expecting to see the young witch in that painfully bright yellow dress he'd somehow grown to tolerate.

He had even wiithout fully relising it himself, grown to desire it. her presence, her friendship.

And it had gone completely under that Roman nose until that one evening in March in the Great Hall for supper. Sitting beside her, Severus looked across the hall as he ate and she talked his ear off, a habit of avoiding her gaze he'd begun to pick up. It was only when she brushed her long hair off her neck and took a sip of her wine that Severus glanced at her for longer than a moment.

His heart stopped involuntarily in his chest.

Her neck, the soft, delicate flesh, was marked with a bruise of broken blood vessels. It was small, almost hidden towards the back of her neck, but that dark red mark stuck out like a thorn against the warm shade of yellow.

He didn't understand the sinking in his stomach he hadn't felt in over a decade. There was no reason for his jaw to clench as he looked back at his plate, no reason why his appetite was somehow ruined.

And all of a sudden, on a simple Tuesday in March, did Severus understand that he had grown to desire something...

"Gratification was a luxury he could not afford"

The weeks after that were nothing short of torture, for a magnitude of reasons. The dark mark on his arm burned stronger with each passing day; Karkaroff's words from the Yule Ball hung heavy in the air of his chamber, late at night when he couldn't sleep. The second task of the Triwizard tournament was a moment still echoing in his crowded mind. Who was stealing gillyweed? Why was Harry's name actually put in the goblet of fire?

And yet, out all of the absolute bullshit fighting for dominance in his crowded mind, did his thoughts always trail back to her.

Like a lovestruck idiot, he couldn't stop thinking of her. Or more so, thinking about that damned lovebite on her neck.

Why did he even care?

If Sprout had had a lovebite on her neck would he have even thought more of it other than the intial disgust?

Was this friendship? The concept was so foreign to him for so long he didn't even know. All he knew was that for the next several weeks, like a hormonal teenager, his body reacted to her presence quicker than his mind.

Every time she knocked on his door and looked up at him with those big bright eyes, he felt it. The lurch of his chest, the sinking in his gut.

He couldn't ignore it, the twitch of his jaw when he'd let his guard down and snuck glances at her neck. What was he hoping to find there anyway? More marks? Or was he hoping to find a blank canvas, the silk of her skin untouched, the possibilities of tracing his own lips down the curve of her neck-

No.

Her voice snapped him out of his tortured thoughts.

"Severus?" She spoke. "You alright?"

They were sitting in her office on a Friday night, a rather recent development in their "friendship" that Severus was unsure how he felt.

He blinked, met her gaze and then looked back at the fire, sipping his tea and putting his Occlumency shields back up, cursing himself at the fact he'd let them fall.

"Yes." He said, his voice low.

And that was when she did it, she touched him. Gently, as if he was something fragile, something delicate that could break under her soft fingertips. And Merlin, the feeling nearly made him gasp out loud. He tore his gaze from her hand placed on his left forearm and looked into her eyes for longer than he had in quite some time.

Her lips curled into a soft smile. "You know Severus.. I know these past few months have been chaotic, with the tournament, but I think you're dealing quite well."

Severus blinked. She didn't know of the darkening tattoo under her very fingertips. What did she know about what he was dealing with? What did she know about anything that he had ever dealt with? Who was she to say he was... doing well?

Why did a heat begin to grow in his lower abdomenon? Why did her touch feel heavier on that cursed mark? Why crave her to say it again?

She pulled her delicate touch away as if it was a fleeting, minute thing that had never meant to be anything more than what it was.

Friendship.

That night, Severus let the door to his chamber slam shut behind him. He detatched the cloak from his robes and hung it on the door, reaching his bedroom in a few quick strides and letting that door slam shut as well.

As soon as he was alone, truly alone, he sunk down on the bed.

He may not have been not the most emotionally intune, but he was intelligent. Severus was no fool to longing. He had, afterall, longed for his whole life. But the feeling possessing him now; the raw, burning in his chest when he looked at her, the way his chest fluttered..

It wasn't the longing he was afraid of. It was the hope.

The smile on her face as she looked at him, as if he was something as bright as she was... The gentle tone of her voice as she coaxed more and more information out of his guarded frame then he'd care to admit..

It was the hope that all these things were her desiring him.

Severus ran his hands through his hair. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he tried desperetely to ignore the restlessness inside him.

What was he doing? He was a man of control, a skilled Occlumens, able to lie straight to the face of the Dark Lord and live to tell the tale, and yet here he was, in the suffocating darkness of his lonely chamber that had never bothered him until now, feeling absolutely on fire.

Was that what it took to break him? A man of his talents reduced to a fluttering, pathetic mess at the mere, single touch of a pretty woman?

The heat in his lower abdomen was not foreign, but it was unwelcome all the less. Of course he knew sexual desire. It wasn't as if he hadn't indulged before.. Occasional, late nights where he had lost control.. Where he'd succumbed to the feeling of his right hand in his trousers. It was the shame afterwards, the disgust for himself that prevented him from making it a regular habit.

In fact, now that he thought of it... When was the last time he had allowed himself release?

Certainly it had been awhile since he felt such... Yearning. And certainly he'd never felt it to such degree before but thinking of it now, his head in his hands, Severus relised it had been years.

Years.

The pent up tension, the reemergence of past lust he thought he'd long buried, the sheer strength of it this time was enough to make him begin to pace in his room.

Breathing through gritted teeth, he paced in circles, running his hands through the strands of raven hair. This need was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Lust and hope combined was never something he'd experienced together.

Would those same lips that are always smiling at his sarcastic remarks kiss his? How would she taste? Would she kiss him softly, gently? Succumb to the power imbalences between them?

Or..

Would she kiss him hungrily? Would she take control, weaving her soft fingers through his hair and tugging? Would her lips whisper praises like the one she'd said that day?

Severus groaned, sitting back down on the bed. He'd never craved to be... taken like this. He'd had fantasies of course, things he thought of on the rare occasions he indulged in his need, all ideas of exercising the control he so often craved.

And yet now, feeling so powerless, so torn, it began to dawn on him that that's what he craved... To be freed from the guilt of his own desires. Have any sembelence of control taken so far from him he could do nothing but take it, take her.

He couldn't ignore the strain in his trousers. It had been so long...

He shifted his weight, not trusting his fraying control enough to get into proper sleepwear, he layed down on his back on top of the sheets, staring up at the ceiling and trying desperately to ignore the aching in his groin.

It'd been so.... long..

"No." He murmered, but the word came out weak.

No, he thought to himself, Absolutely not.

Severus rolled onto his side, trying desperetely just to close his eyes and beacon forth the sleep he knew wouldn't come. He knew deep down, he could just take a simple sleeping potion, it wouldn't be the first time.

But as he shifted, he felt the strain of his cock in his trousers brush against the firm matrress. Almost immediately his breath hitched. His slender fingers tightened around the messy sheets, his jaw clenched.

Every muscle in his tired body seemed to clench. It didn't help that all his mind could so was replay that moment over and over again. The weight of her hand on his forearm... The way she looked up at him so gently.. Her words... What was it she had said? He was handling it... Well?

She had praised him.

Pathetic. He thought, letting out a sharp exhale. A mere compliment she hadn't thought twice of was his undoing?

But the voice in the back of his mind, the one that had begun to threaten his control, whispered: "What if she had meant it? What if she had meant more?"

And it was this hope, this foolish hope he hadn't allowed himself to indulge in years that seemed to set him on fire.

He stared at the wall of his dark chamber. Even in the night of his room, he never felt safe from the invisible eyes of others, not even his own.

If he.. indulged... How could he look at himself in the mirror?

How could he look at her?

But the weight of her touch on his arm was a heavy burden his mind couldn't afford to ignore. Every shift of his weight on the bed sent a spark up his spine, every minute, tiny brush of the sheets against his cock made it throb.

Sleep.

Sleep would not find him. He laid completely still for what felt like an eternity, and yet the ache in his pants would not go away. It only seemed to grow stronger.

Frustrated, Severus rolled over to his stomach and immedietly let out a sharp hiss. The friction between his clothed groin and the mattress sent a bolt of pleasure up him he hadn't felt in years.

He'd forgotten what pleasure could feel like.

And for the first time in a long time, Severus acted without thinking. His hips rolled almost involuntarily against the mattress, a single, simple grinding motion that drew another ragged gasp from his lips.

Another jolt... Another roll of his hips...

Remembering the constant feeling of eyes on him, he buried his face in the pillow and stopped his movements all together.

What the fuck was he doing?

It wasn't just the burning desire, or the pleasure of friction he'd so long denied himself. It was the exhaustion. He was tired. Tired of being in control over everything in his life, day after day, year after year. Tired of fighting that clench in his gut that he felt everytime she looked up at him. Tired of refusing to be selfish.

He tore his head from the pillow, reaching both hands up to grasp the sheets around it.

"Fuck it." He whispered to himself.

He didn't fight the next wave of pleasure that crashed over him as he rolled his hips against the mattress again. The sigh that lleft his lips left so on his own accord. As if his whispered permission was enough for all reason to flee him, he began to grind his clothed erection against the firm mattress again, his movements still slow, but deliberate.

God.. It had been... So.... Long...

He began to pant, short, quick breaths coming out quickly as his movements picked up pace. The pleasure that each thrust sent through him could have been enough to pull him over the edge, but it wasn't enough for him.

He had to feel it... Just once, just this once and then he could go back to whatever sense of celibacy he had adopted over the years. Just for tonight, he had to feel it.

Severus propped himself up on one elbow and used his other hand to unbutton his trousers. His fingers hastly unzipped it, reaching into his boxers as if he unconciously feared his mind may deny himself again if he allowed it the time to.

The very second his fingers wrapped themselves around his cock he gasped. The sound was ragged, strained as he pulled himself out, pushing down his trousers and boxers the very least he could. The cold dungeon air of his bed chamber immediately contrasted against the warmth of his skin and even that simple sensation felt as though it had been amplified.

Without wasting a second, Severus tore his hand away to join his other in gripping the sheets and began to buck his bare erection against the mattress.

Another torn gasp. Another shudder. His fingers tightened their grip around the sheets, his hips rolling faster, feverishly in time with his panting.

"Fuck," He hissed, his head falling down against the pillow as he moved.

He could still feel it. Her touch on his left forearm.

And perhaps thats what drove his next action. It certainly wasn't reason, or shame, those things he had so long clung onto having abandoned him. He tossed, rolling over to his side and began to pump his cock with his left hand.

It wasn't his dominant hand, but he used it none the less. Shamelessly bucking his hips against his fist, his grip tight as he stroked himself desperately. Deep down he knew that the only thing on top that forearm in that moment was the Dark Mark, but the only thing he felt, was her hand.

He imagined her touch again. Her soft fingers on his clothed skin. Gods.. What would it feel like without any barriers whatsoever? What would it feel like to have her fingers trail up that arm, down his chest, his abdomen-

"Fuck," He grunted, louder this time as his grip on his cock tightened and his hips continued to buck against his hand, "Fuck."

With his eyes screwed shut, Severus pictured her eyes staring back up at him as she whispered more praises. What he would do to hear more of them... What he would do to coax those words from her lips, no, what he would do to make her moan them.. If he was inside her, if it was his cock, his movements, making her praise him...

His control snapped. In an instant he moved, thoughtless, completely slave to the desires he'd repressed for so long; he pushed himself up, bunching the sheets up and bringing them under his hips.

Without thinking, Severus took his cock in his right hand and lined it up with the crease of the rolled up sheets and pushed in.

"Shit!" He hissed, his head collapsing against them as he supported his weight on his left forearm. His other arm reached down to hold the sheets steady as he began to fuck them shamelessly.

The gasps that flew from his lips were sinfully loud, a string of curses and her name as he chased the release he'd denied himself for so long. He pictured her body beneath him, the possibilities of feeling so much more of her soft skin. How her walls would welcome him... Wet and warm around his cock, how those delicate hands would cling to him as she looked up at him with those bright eyes that seemed to only see good in him.

And stars, did he want to be good for her.

"You're doing so well, Severus," Her voice rang out in his mind as he screwed his eyes shut, "Feels so good..."

His breath coming in quick short gasps, his grip on the sheets tightened even further, his knuckles white. The headboard creeked against the stone wall with every thrust of his hips, but the only thing in his mind was her voice. That wretched, soft, voice..

"Severus!" She moaned in his mind. His name, on her lips. He was coaxing those moans. He was giving her that pleasure.

What would it feel like to give her more? What would it feel like to watch her face as she came around him? He'd read about sex, sure. Heard about it, in the boys dorms in school, from Lucius' wild adventures, from the Death Eaters. But what would it feel like to have her come for him? The tightening of her around him, the sound of his name on her lips as she gushed arou-

The thought was too much for him to bear. Soft, high whimpers flew from his quivering lips as he came into the sheets. The orgasm crashed over him seemingly out of nowhere fast enough that he wasn't prepared for it. His entire body shook, hips faltering and chest heaving as he thrusted sloppily into the sheets as he filled them with his cum.

Her name left his mouth like a broken prayer, chanted breathlessly, even as his thrusts slowed down and he stilled against the sheets.

Severus panted, sweat clinging to his forehead, his raven hair. For as long as he could, he lay completely still against the messy sheets, almost frightened to move and face what he had done.

When he finally did open his eyes, he pushed himself up on shaky arms to look down. The black sheets were painted white with his cum, glistening in the faint glow of the room.

Not bearing to look at it any longer, he reached for his wand and cleaned up the evidence. Tossing it to the side, he shoved his softening cock back in his trousers and collapsed on the once again clean sheets to stare at the ceiling.

Shame and guilt coursed through the back of his mind, but at the forefront of it all, was the absolute sheer exhaustion.

The prayer in his mind was only her name, the scripture only her praise. He drifted off begging, to who, he wasn't sure. But for the first time, in years, Severus slept peacefully.

~

well im sorry that was seven decades long. haven't yall had a pretty lady touch you once and then immediately gone feral?

no?

just me?

oh

~

taglist:

@graciesbow @niftysnazzy @plecosylvia @dark-st  @3hrysfiction-blog @ilovegrapes-world @darkvoidz @lexiitaylorrrr @theheartwants-what-itwants **@aperol-with-izzy **@herbologygremlin @kittenlittle24 @aleck-cross

[holylulusworld]

Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear (Snippet)

Summary: Amends. Amends.

Pairing: Lumberjack!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, unplanned pregnancy, remorse, we love Bear

This story is part of my Lumberjack Tales masterlist

Catch up here: Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear (3)

A/N: A short snippet to this series.

Bear whines loudly. The huge dog seems to feel your distress and goes into protective mode. Before you can stop him, the Estrela Mountain Dog sits down next to you and leans his head against your belly.

“Pregnant?” Ari doesn’t know how to react to the news at first. He’s relieved that you’re not sick—but is this the right time to have a baby? “You’re having my baby?”

He shoves his dog aside and kneels in front of you, mimicking his dog. Ari nuzzles your belly and starts talking about the new life growing inside of you.

“What do you want here? Not so long ago, you wanted me to leave your home. I don’t understand you anymore.” You push against his shoulders, trying to get him off you. “Ari!”

“Y/N, I know there’s no excuse for yelling at you, but I didn’t mean it that way. My ex called me, demanding more money. I got so mad and tried to hide my feelings from you. I am sorry for letting my anger get the best out of me.”

“You yelled at me for no reason. Ari,” you sniffle. “You gave me the feeling that I overstayed my welcome. You always told me you wanted me to stay forever, only to push me away. It wasn’t my fault that someone messed with you.”

“I know, my sweet tramp,” he murmurs against you. “I know. I told you I’m a big grump and not used to having people around.” Ari sighs deeply. “You don’t have to say it, Y/N. It’s all my fault.”

“Damn right,” you huff, still hurt. “You made me feel like I’m a liability. I know you’re used to women wanting your money, but I never cared about it.”

“Y/N, please let me make things up to you.” He gets back up on his feet. “I know it will be hard for you to trust me again, but please give me a chance.”

You sniff and look away when Ari tries to touch your cheek. “Don’t touch me.” You step away. “I felt like you slapped me in the face when you yelled at me. I don’t care if you were mad at your ex-wife, Ari. Not she stood in front of you but me. You should’ve let her anger out on her, not me!”

“I know,” he says and shows his palms. “You won’t hear me excuse my behavior. Y/N, you’re more important to me than my solitude or money. I couldn’t believe you easily stole my heart and breath.”

You’d giggle at his cheesy admission, but you’re still mad at Ari for treating you like he did. “What do you want me to say?”

“Please tell me that you’ll come back home with me,” he whispers, and carefully reaches out for you to stroke your cheek. “I’d do anything to make things up to you.”

You look at Bear inching closer to nuzzle your leg. “Bear, don’t make this any harder for me,” you sigh. The dog won’t give in. He purrs and whines until you finally pet him. “You’re a charmer, aren’t you?”

“Like owner, like dog.” Ari gives you a cracked smile. “Please… Y/N. Come back home. We are not the same without you. The cabin feels so lonely without my little tramp. I need you there.”

“Ari, things have changed,” you point out. “Until I left, everything was exciting and kinky sex. But…” You protectively rub your belly. “I’m pregnant, and this will turn your life upside down if I come back.”

“Good,” he says and holds out his hand. “Let’s get your things and go home.”

Tags in reblog.

[maracujatangerine]

91. A conversation

CW: institutional slavery, pet whump, dehumanisation, box boy universe

“Cory… I think we need to talk.” Lydia’s tone was cautious. Carefully gentle. “What do you think?”

Coriander had been sitting slumped against the wall on his green pillow in the kitchen. When Lydia spoke, he instantly straightened up.

“Y-yes, Miss Lydia. T-this pet needs to talk. It has been thinking.”

“Okay.”

Lydia sat down in her usual chair, facing him. For quite some time now, she had been more relaxed around Coriander. She had felt able to trust their report and that also he would be less vigilant in interpreting any gesture of hers as a sign of displeasure or censure. Now, however, she once again felt herself hyper aware of her own body language. Do not cross your arms, she reminded herself. Shoulders turned towards him, heart open, posture welcoming. She smiled, and nodded.

“I’m listening. We can talk about whatever you want.”

“T-this pet has been thinking about what.. what has happened to it. About why it is here.”

Coriander rose to his feet, perfectly graceful as usual.

“Miss Lydia, This pet did volunteer, it did. It knows it did.” He pulled a shaking hand through his blonde hair. “T-there w-was a signature, on a paper, and… and…” He shook his head. “T-this pet cannot remember. But.” He looked down at Lydia, grey eyes suddenly fierce. “B-but this pet knows that it wouldn’t have volunteered if it knew. If it knew what it was going to be like. Nobody would volunteer for that.”

He started to pace the kitchen, back and forth, his shaking hands drawn tightly into fists.

“The cold, the beatings, the starvation, the experiments, the violence, the abuse, the contempt, the neglect.” His whole body shaking, he stared unseeing out the window. “The way you are never good enough.”

Lydia could feel her whole chest ache in phantom pain as her heart hurt for him. She wanted to reach out to Cory, but she was also afraid to disturb whatever path he was on. This was probably the first time ever he named the things he’d been going through.

When he just stayed silent, breathing hard, staring out the window, she eventually said, as gently as she could.

“Cory. This is terrible, and I am so sorry that it happened to you. I’m really glad that you can start to talk about it, though. I’m here, and I’m listening to everything you want to talk about.” She paused, and when he showed no sign of even having heard her, she added. “I just want to remind you that this is never going to happen to you ever again. You are safe here.”

He whirled on her, then.

“B-but, Miss Lydia. If nobody w-wanted to buy it, this would not have happened to this pet.” He paused and swallowed. “This would not have happened to me!”

Looking down, he continued. “You have been kind to this pet, that is true. But there is a paper in the drawer there…” He pointed, his whole arm an accusing arc. “That says that you own it. Whatever you want to do to this body…” He hesitated and plunged on. “…to this soul, it is your right to do it.”

Coriander shook his head slowly, grey eyes boring into hers. Very slowly and steadily he said. “Miss Lydia, i-if it wasn’t for you - a-and many more people like you - t-this pet wouldn’t be here.”

He hung his head, then. Exhaustion and a spasm of pain flickering over his face for just an instant. Gritting his teeth, he met her eyes again.

“Miss Lydia, t-this pet needs some time alone. May it be excused to go for a walk?”

Lydia nodded quickly, biting her lip.

“Of course, Cory, whatever you need.”

The blonde young man inclined his head respectfully, but the fire in his grey eyes did not die down.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

Lydia held it together while Coriander went out into the hallway, put on his shoes and coat, and walked out the door.

It was only after she heard the sound of the latch clicking closed that she leant down on the smooth, wooden surface of the kitchen table, hid her face in the crook of her arm, and cried.

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards-blog @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[wolfsclothing6]

Changing Room pt. 2

Elliot sat awkwardly on the bench in the cramped changing room, his round belly pressed against his thighs. The briefs clung stubbornly to his body, and no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the faint musk emanating from the fabric seemed to grow stronger by the second. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

Minutes dragged on, and Jake still hadn’t shown up.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“Hey, uh, I’ve got some clothes here for you,” a deep, slightly gravelly voice said.

Elliot froze. “Jake?” he asked cautiously.

“No, name’s Martin. One of the clerks here said you needed something in a larger size, so I brought these over.”

Before Elliot could respond, a neatly folded pile of clothes was shoved under the door. He stared at them, hesitant. Something about the stack gave him a strange feeling, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Thanks,” he called back weakly.

He unfolded the clothes: a plain blue polo shirt, a pair of khakis, and some sneakers. Each item had a faint, earthy scent, a mixture of leather, sweat, and… something else he couldn’t quite place. He was desperate, though.

First, he pulled on the polo. The fabric was soft and well-worn, stretching perfectly over his new girth. It hugged his belly snugly, the hem riding up slightly when he moved.

Next, the khakis. They slid on easily, fitting as if they had been tailored just for him. Even the sneakers felt like they were made for his wide, slightly sweaty feet.

Elliot looked at himself in the mirror. The clothes fit too well. It was uncanny, like they belonged to him all along.

As he adjusted the polo, his fingers brushed against something sewn into the inside of the collar: a small, embroidered name tag.

“Teddy,” he read aloud, his voice trembling.

The name struck a chord deep within him. Teddy. Teddy… yeah, that was right. That was his name. A sense of familiarity washed over him, and he found himself smiling absentmindedly.

“No!” he muttered, shaking his head. “My name’s Elliot. Not—”

But the scent of the clothes overwhelmed him, seeping into his mind. Memories that weren’t his began to surface: folding clothes on racks, helping customers find their sizes, and chatting with coworkers during breaks. He could almost see himself leaning against the counter, laughing with a cup of coffee in hand.

The reflection in the mirror shifted slightly. His face softened, his stubble thickening into a neatly trimmed beard. His hair darkened and shortened, styled into a practical cut. His posture changed, his shoulders rounding as if weighed down by years of retail work.

“Hey there, buddy,” he heard himself say, though it wasn’t his voice—it was deeper, friendlier, with a faint Midwestern twang.

Elliot—or rather, Teddy—blinked, confused. The name tag felt warm against his skin, like it was branding him. He turned to look at the pile of his old clothes on the bench. They felt alien now, like they belonged to someone else entirely.

“Why would I wear that stuff?” he murmured, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

A knock at the door startled him.

“Hey, Teddy! You done in there?” a voice called.

Teddy—no, Elliot—hesitated for a moment. Then, as if on autopilot, he grabbed the pile of discarded clothes, opened the door, and stepped out.

A coworker greeted him with a grin. “Took you long enough! Break’s over, man. There’s a mess in the men’s section that needs cleaning up.”

Teddy nodded. “Right. Sorry about that.”

As he walked toward the department floor, the faint scent of musk still clinging to him, the last remnants of Elliot faded into the background, replaced entirely by Teddy, the department store clerk who always had a warm smile and a friendly word for every customer.

[detectivesvu]

Time and Patience

Rafael Barba x Fem! Detective! Reader Tags: Smut (MDI!!!!). M/F Sex. Handjob. Relationship establishment. Part 2 to this fic. Word Count: 5.5k "But I don't know where to go from here."

"Hi." She nearly whispered, heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.

Rafael’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice. His eyes never left her face. He couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked under the soft glow of his desk lamp.

"Hi," He said, his voice equally soft as he gestured for her to come in and join him. There was a moment of silence between them before he spoke again. "I’m glad you could come."

“Yeah...I’m sorry it took so long for me to call you,” She said, entering his office. “I was trying to get through the workday.”

Rafael nodded in understanding, his eyes studying her intently, trying to gauge her mood. He wasn't sure how she was feeling. She was here in person, so he figured she at least didn't hate his guts for what happened.

"No need to apologize," He said gently. "I get it. Work can be demanding."

She gave a small chuckle as she sat in her usual chair in front of his desk. A small grin tugged at Rafael’s lips as her anxious laugh. Sensing her unease, he returned to his desk and sat on the other side, both of them in the same positions they had been in earlier.

Rafael’s eyes never left her. He couldn’t help but notice the nervous energy coming off her in waves. He could tell that she was just as uneasy as he felt, but he also knew that they needed to talk about what had happened, and the sooner the better.

"So…how was the rest of your day?" He asked, his voice soft yet firm.

She hated how awkward this was. It was painfully uneasy...suffocating even. They were never uncomfortable with one another. It wasn't natural for their dynamic. Now she felt like she was going to melt right in front of him.

“It was busy. Carisi and I chased leads for a long time on this case,” She said. “Nothing really turned up, so we’ll start fresh tomorrow.”

Rafael listened intently as she spoke about her busy latter half of the day. He was slightly disappointed that she hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room, but he didn’t want to push her into talking about it before she was ready.

"Sounds tiring," He said, scribbling a note onto one of the case files in front of him. "These cases can be draining."

“Tell me about it,” She sighed, throwing the ball in his court. “How was the rest of your day?”

He nodded with a shrug, not overly interested in talking about what he had been doing since she practically ran out of his office earlier that evening.

"Mine was…eventful," He said, his voice a hint more cautious than usual. There was a moment of silence before he continued. "I’ve been thinking about you…"

She swallowed hard, trying to keep the anxiety from rising in her throat. It seemed that he was getting right down to business. After all, they were always straight shooters with one another.

“I’ve been thinking about you too." She confessed, fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

He felt relief knowing she wasn't angry at him or remorseful. After all, he had pushed the whole thing into motion. He hadn't been sure of how she felt about it. The last thing he wanted was her feeling like he had come on too strong.

Hearing her admit that she'd been thinking about him all day sent a jolt through Rafael. It was a small sense of relief knowing that he wasn't the only one who had been consumed by thoughts of her.

"So…we need to talk." He said, knowing it was an understatement.

“Yeah, we do,” She said, unsure of how to start. “Uhm…you go first.”

Rafael took a moment to gather his thoughts, his expression growing serious. He knew they needed to talk about what had happened earlier that day, but he wasn’t sure how to approach it. After a moment, he took a deep breath and started.

"Look, what happened before..." He failed to find the right words, suddenly feeling like he was completely winging this whole thing. "We need to talk about that."

“Right,” She gave a small laugh. “You said that already.”

Rafael couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle too. He knew she was nervous, and he knew he was too. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he completely blanked on what to say. The infamous talker Rafael Barba was now speechless.

“Look,” She tried to help him. “I…I don’t really know what to say. But I don’t want what happened to ruin us. I don’t know how it got heated so fast, but…I guess we had a lot of tension explode at once.”

He was taking in her words -- listening to her tone and studying her eyes. He knew her all too well. He knew how to read her, how to know what she was feeling. He knew they were both thinking the same thing -- they didn't want this to ruin their relationship...whatever it may be.

"You’re right," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on hers. "I think it's fair to say we've been...dancing around this for a while."

“I know. I just…didn’t expect it to happen so fast,” She said, her hands fiddling with the edge of her skirt. “You’re my friend first…but we also work together. And I feel like I reacted inappropriately for a work setting.”

What they had done was definitely inappropriate for a work setting...but he hadn't minded it. In fact, he was disappointed they hadn't made it further. He paused for a moment, rotating his pen in his hand before he answered.

"I'm not so innocent either," He reminded her, a sudden shimmer gleaming in his eyes. "But it was...intense, wasn't it?"

She looked at him then, meeting his dark, but playful gaze. She gave a small, almost shy smile.

“It was. And I don't regret it...just if you're wondering..."She shifted in her seat, getting to the meat of the conversation. "But I don't know where to go from here."

His playful expression faded a bit. He knew this had complicated their relationship beyond belief and moving forward was going to be tricky.

"I don't regret it either...but I also don’t know either," He admitted. "I just think it's going to be hard to go back to how things were before. We can't pretend it didn't happen."

“I agree,” She nodded. “I just don’t know what it means for us.”

Rafael looked at her intently, his eyes studying her face as he tried to find the right words to say. He knew what he wanted, but he wasn’t sure how she felt or if she was ready to admit it yet.

"What do you want it to mean for us?" he asked softly, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability.

Her eyes were soft as she looked at him, her voice honest and true to him.

“I’m not unhappy that it happened,” She said. “But…I don’t know what it would look like for us if we…pursued this. Pursued us."

Rafael nodded, realizing that she was trying to articulate what he couldn’t put into words. Deep down, he had been thinking the same thing. He wanted there to be an "us" between them, but he didn’t know quite what that would look like either. He leaned forward a bit, resting his arms on the desk in front of him.

"You’re right. It’s about what it means for us if we decide to explore this further." He remarked.

She knew it was a bit risky. They worked together and already spent so much time together in a work context. If they officially turned things personal and romantic, what would that look like? Would they be able to handle seeing each other so often? Could their personal relationship be able to withstand their work schedules? There were a lot of questions that she didn't have the answers to. But they were both so involved with one another now, that it felt so wrong to not give it a try.

“I…suppose we can try. Start slow, you know?” She said. “I was just…afraid you would think I had crossed a boundary today.”

Rafael chuckled softly, a small smirk playing on his lips. He couldn’t help but find her concern slightly amusing.

"Crossed a boundary?" He repeated, his eyes never leaving hers. "I don’t think we’ve been particularly respectful of boundaries for a while now."

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” She laughed. “I just wasn’t sure how you felt about earlier. I wanted to be sure we were on the same page. That I hadn’t totally scared you off today.”

Rafael smiled softly, shaking his head.

"Oh, I wasn’t scared off. In fact, quite the opposite," He said, a faint hint of amusement in his voice. "You’d have to do a lot more than that to scare me off."

“Good to know,” She smiled, a small silence between them for just a moment. “So…does this mean we’re going to take things slow? See where it takes us?”

Rafael nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He knew that taking things slow would be the sensible option. He wanted to do this right and do it the way that was best for them. But still...he knew they both felt like they had unfinished business from earlier.

"Slow. Yeah, that sounds… responsible." He paused, his eyes searching hers. "But I have to warn you, I’m not exactly known for my patience."

Truth be told, it was going to be difficult for them to “take things slow.” When essentially that’s what they had been doing up until today. Over the last few months, they had been flirting, talking, hanging out…just never in a determined way. Today had been the first day things had turned romantic. It was just that neither of them had realized they had essentially pre-dating the last few months.

“Neither am I,” She returned the same tone. “Some call it a flaw of mine.”

Rafael chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement at her words. He had always known that she was impatient, and this only confirmed it. It was one of the things he found endearing and irritating about her all at once.

"It's a flaw we both share," He said, his voice laced with a hint of humor. "Which, of course, makes things a bit more interesting."

Now that she was really thinking about it, this really did seem like the logical next step. She didn't respond just yet, her eyes slightly squinted as she continued to look him over.

Rafael could see her mind working, and he chuckled again, leaning back in his chair. He knew from the look on her face that she was starting to realize that this had been inevitable for a long time now.

"Are you starting to realize how ridiculous this all is?" He teased. "We’ve basically been pre-dating for months now and it took us this long to realize it?"

“That seems so on brand for us, doesn’t it?” She asked with a small scoff. “Basically dating and we didn’t even know it until things got hot.”

"Oh, definitely. It’s a wonder it took us this long to figure it out," He paused only for a moment. "It’s not necessarily a bad thing, is it? The tension made things interesting...until you couldn't take it anymore."

Her eyes widened, her brows shooting up in surprise. Her lips curled into a smirk.

“Counselor,” She said. “You’re not insinuating that I was the one that broke first, are you?”

Rafael chuckled at her reaction, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. He knew exactly what he was implying, and he was enjoying messing with her.

"Oh, I think you know the answer to that, Detective," he teased, leaning forward slightly. "You may try to deny it, but we both know who cracked first."

“If I do so recall,” She leaned forward. “I remember you saying you were going to take me on your desk. That sure sounds like breaking to me.”

Rafael couldn't help but let out a startled laugh at her words, his eyes going wide. She couldn't throw that back at him.

He quickly recollected himself, his expression turning to one of mischief. He leaned forward, his voice lower now.

"And if I recall, you seemed to like the idea of that… greatly."

“Maybe…” She kept her cool. “But I’m not the one who broke first.”

They could do this all night...and they were just getting started.

"Is that so? Because I remember clearly, you’re the one who started this whole thing. You were practically begging me to take you right there on my desk, Detective." His voice was deep and slow.

“I was just making friendly conversation about a coworker and the conversation so happened to turn into work related things,” She nearly whispered. “That’s not begging, counselor. You couldn’t make me beg even if you tried.”

"Is that a challenge, Detective?" Rafael chuckled, his smile growing more arrogant by the second. He leaned even closer, his face mere inches from hers, his voice a husky whisper. "Because I can think of a few ways I could have you begging very quickly."

She slowly stood from her chair, hands pressed against his desk.

“That’s not going very slow, Counselor.” She said.

Rafael looked up at her, his eyes darkening as she stood over him, her hands resting upon his desk.

"Slow is overrated," Without warning, he reached out and grabbed her hips, pulling her forward so she was standing between his legs. He smirked up at her, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "And you’re not exactly helping."

“I came by for a chat, per your request.” She tried to ignore the feeling of his hands on her waist. “Isn’t that what we’re doing? Talking?”

Rafael let his hands run gently up and down the sides of her hips as he continued to look up at her, his voice silky and low.

"You’re right, you’re right. We are talking. Just a simple, friendly conversation between coworkers." He tugged her closer still, his hands gripping her hips a bit more firmly, his smirk growing wider. "But your body’s saying something completely different, Detective."

The term coworkers irritated her because she knew they were well past that. They had been past that for a while now. Rafael noticed the subtle shift in her expression when he said 'coworkers.' It was obvious that she was on the same page as him. They were well past the point of mere coworkers, and they both knew it. He released a low chuckle, his hands still on her hips, his fingers gently tracing over the fabric of her skirt.

"What is it? You look annoyed. Does the word 'coworkers' bother you all of a sudden?"

“We’re hardly coworkers, Rafael.” The usage of his first name sent a chill down his back. “That’s putting it lightly, don’t you think?”

He could tell she knew exactly what she was doing. He looked up at her, his eyes dark and intense.

"You're right," he said in a low voice, his hands still on her hips, his grip a bit tighter now. "I've never wanted to take any of my coworkers on my desk. But you…" He pulled her closer still, his voice dropping to a huskier tone. "You're something else, [Y/N]."

Her hands were fiddling with his tie in a calculated and seductive way. Her eyes trailing up and down his body as she looked at the suspenders he always wore.

“Tell me more. What exactly am I?' She hummed.

Rafael swallowed harshly as he watched her hands play with his tie, her eyes roving over his body. Her touch, coupled with the intensity of her gaze, was driving him mad.

He pulled her even closer, to the point where she was standing in between his legs.

"You’re maddening," he said, his voice rough. "You’re infuriating. You’re captivating. You’re everything I’ve been trying to resist for months now."

“Yeah?” She looked at him in the eyes again. “All those months of waiting…sounds to me like you’re admitting that you broke first.”

Rafael’s jaw clenched as she called him out, a smirk spreading across his lips.

"You think you’re being cheeky, don’t you?" He drawled, pulling her into his chest. "I may have broken first, but trust me, you’ll be breaking too."

He backed her into his desk, the very same way he had earlier that day. But this time, it was late at night, and there was no one to interrupt.

The desk pressed into the backs of her thighs as he pushed her against it, his body pressing close against hers, his hands still gripping her hips. He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear as he spoke in a rough whisper.

"No work to be done. No one to bother us. Just you and I," he murmured, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "And we have a lot of lost time to make up for."

Her heart was pounding as she felt him begin to envelop her senses. He was going to have her at his mercy in no time.

Rafael could feel her heart racing under his touch, and he reveled in the power he had over her. He nipped at her earlobe, then trailed kisses down her jawline, his hands roaming over her hips and thighs. He could feel her breath hitching in anticipation, and it only fueled his hunger for her.

He moved his mouth to her neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin there, his thumbs rubbing lazy circles into her hips. Her hands were wedged between them, her fingers fumbling to get the buttons of his shirt undone. She had one leg hooked around his, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

Rafael felt her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and he smirked against her neck, his lips continuing to graze over her sensitive skin. He could feel her leg around his, trapping him in place, and he chuckled lowly.

"Impatient, Detective?" he teased, his teeth gently scraping against her collarbone.

“That makes two of us,” She sighed, when he found his way to her lips, her words muffled against his kiss. “Are you sure you won’t get in trouble for this?”

Rafael deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers, his hands roaming over her body with more fervor now. He could feel her need for him, and it only served to heighten his own desire.

He broke the kiss just long enough to speak, his voice a low growl. "I won't get in trouble. We're all alone."

Her mind was reeling. She wondered for a quick moment what Olivia would say if she knew she was here with their ADA, nearly at his mercy. Olivia had always been a bit protective over her, and she knew she would be getting a lecture when Olivia inevitably found out about this. But for now she wasn't worried about it. This was an opportunity she wasn't giving up.

Rafael watched as her hands moved to unbutton her blouse, his eyes devouring her as more of her skin was revealed. He could feel his body growing hotter with each button that came undone, and he knew he was losing his restraint. His hands roamed over her bare skin, his mouth finding its way to her neck again, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh there. He was all over it once her shirt was open, her hands moving to his waist to get his belt undone.

Articles of clothing were going everywhere. His tie, her shirt, his belt, her shoes. They moved with a careless fervor, discarding all clothing as they went. His hands roamed her body, wanting to touch her everywhere, wanting to possess her body and soul. His mouth found hers in a heated kiss, his hands gripping her thighs as he hoisted her up to sit on the desk. He stood between her legs, his chest pressed against her, his hands pushing her skirt - her only clothing article left between the two of them -- up to her hips. His hands pushed up her legs to get her skirt out of the way, when he made a mouth watering discovery.

Rafael let his hands slide over her thighs, pushing her skirt up to reveal tantalizing amounts of her skin. He was enjoying every second of this and wanted to savor every moment. But then he felt her skin against his fingertips… and he froze. He looked down at her legs, his eyes going wide at the sight of her, his voice dropping to a rough rumble.

"You're not wearing anything underneath." He said, almost flatly.

Truth be told, that was a complete coincidence. It was a longer pencil skirt and sometimes she just didn't bother with wearing anything underneath. But it seemed tonight it was playing in her favor, so she decided to go with it.

"Hm. It must've slipped my mind." She hummed.

When her leg wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to her, he had to bite back a groan. He felt like he was coming undone, his control being pushed to the limit. He leaned down, his lips hovering over hers, his voice a low husk.

"You have no idea the things I want to do to you right now." He reached for the zipper on the side of her skirt, dragging it down and opening her skirt. She helped him slip it off of her, watching it slide down her legs and onto the floor.

She was spread out across his desk, her legs wrapped around him and keeping him as close to her as he could almost possibly get. She was flushed, but glowing in the dim light of his office. And it occurred to him that he could now have this whenever he wanted.

She was a sight to behold, spread out across his desk, her body responding to his touch, her legs wrapped around him, holding him close. He looked down at her, his eyes taking in every inch of her body. He had dreamed of this moment a million times before, having her for himself and them finally indulging in one another. He had never felt so connected to someone before. He adored her in every way, and now he was going to have her in a totally new way. She looked so gorgeous and so beautiful laid out in front of him, he hardly even believed she was really here with him.

His heart hammered away in his chest as he watched her eyes gloss over him, looking at him with nothing but admiration and desire in her eyes. Her hand hovered as she looked at him, his hand holding the side of her neck to keep her face close to his.

"Can I touch you?" She whispered, her voice sending a whole party of fireworks to explode all inside of him.

"Please," His teeth grazed her lower lip, his words coming out as a stutter when her warm hand wrapped around his hard cock. "Oh f-fuck."

All this time, the feeling of her touching him was all in his imagination...his daydreams late at night when he couldn't sleep and could only think of her. But now it was real and happening, and it felt so much better than anything he ever dreamed up.

Her touch is electrifying as she runs her hand along his length, being gentle and calculated with her movements. He shudders against her when he kisses her again, her hand pumping him to get him worked up. A warmth slips through her fingers and wets her palm, his pre cum layering her hand as she strokes him.

He groaned into her mouth, his own hand finding its way between her legs. He knew his fingers were cold when he touched her based on the goosebumps that erupted all over her skin. She let out a small whimper when he dragged his fingers along her slit, his hand skilled and careful. Their tongues explored each other's mouth, his leaving hers to trail down her neck and stop just above one of her breasts. He gave a bit of an arrogant chuckle against her skin at the feeling of his hand that was now slick from her growing wetness.

"You're soaked, mi amor..." He drawls, voice muffled against her skin. "You're so eager for me, hm?"

She paid special attention to the tip of his cock as she continued to stroke him, his cock filling her hand as she drew more sounds out of him.

"Only for you," She breathes. "Please, Rafael..."

Their hearts are pounding, bodies basically trembling with need and anticipation. They can't wait any longer. The buildup to this moment was too long for them to hold back anymore. He took his cock from her and held one of her hips in his other hand as he positioned himself to her. He looks at her, his eyes dark with desire and body aching for her.

"Yeah?" He asked, giving her one final ditch effort if she had any hesitation about this at all.

She doesn't, of course. Her head nodding and voice soft as she gives him the go ahead.

"Yeah," She whispered. "Please."

Their moans almost harmonized when he pushed into her. They moaned the other's name in pure adoration and satisfaction. It was the most right feeling in the world, like they had been missing this moment all this time. Now it's her turn to shudder as she gets used to the feeling of him, which gave him the chance to get used to feeling her. They share kisses wherever they can get them, his hips pushing and pulling out of her slowly to ease her into it.

They're a perfect fit. He fit into her so exquisitely and she engulfed him flawlessly. He stretched her with each roll back into her, the feeling of her encasing him was so mouth watering that he couldn't stop the noises that were coming out of him.

She began to squirm after a few moments, her hips instinctively shifting to get more friction and speed from him. He started to fuck her at a faster pace, not even interested in teasing her or making her beg for it. He needed this just as much as her...if not more,

He pushed as far into her as he could go, her eyelashes fluttered when he hit a certain spot that made her toes curl. She leaned back onto her palms on his desk, head rolled back as the sounds of their session filled the room. Her waist began to meet his thrusts, their bodies fucking each other and giving the other what they needed.

He felt like he was losing control with every movement, every feeling of her around him. The intensity of their pleasure is almost too much to bear. His cock is soaked from her, spreading it to the insides of her thighs and the tops of his as he continued to pound into her.

There's a slight shake in her arms and legs, both from the adrenaline of this moment and the anticipation leading up to it. She lowers her upper half flat on his desk, her body stretched out and on display in front of him. She's getting rocked into the top of his desk, her moans and whimpers like music to his ears.

He wondered for a moment how much the desk could take. This was a first, and the creaks that sounded from the desk being used like this were loud and proof that it wasn't built for this. He didn't rightly care - if this was how he broke and destroyed his desk, then so be it.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. It felt like a disservice to her and himself to even look away for a moment. She was too beautiful and too perfect not to take in at every moment.

"I can't get enough of you," He gasped, his voice ragged and thick. "Oh, fuck..."

She made noises at every movement and he groaned at everything she did. They were more alive right now than they had ever been. And it occurred to them that this is going to be their new normal. They could have this whenever they wanted.

His thoughts ran wild as they moved together, pleasure and bliss overtook his mind completely. He could hardly think of anything past her — the way she felt and looked beneath him, the sounds she made, the way her body fit against his perfectly. She was everything in this moment, and all he wanted was to make her feel good.

"Raf, you...you feel so good." She could hardly get the words out, her head so foggy and fuzzy as he continued to pump into her.

He studied her face - her eyes fluttering, cheeks flushed, and lips swollen. He groaned at the sight, his hands rested on her hips with a firm grip as he started to guide her movements and pull her onto his cock as he fucked into her. Her back arched off the desk at that point, her body overwhelmed in the best way at this deep kind of pleasure. He watched his cock go in and out of her, glistening and totally pumped full of blood and energy.

His cock twitched inside her when she pulsed around him, a burning coil in his gut growing stronger. He knew that in more normal circumstances, he would've wanted to take more time with her. But for tonight, this was more than enough. He reached for her, yanking her up off the desk and pressing her chest to his. He wanted her close when they hit their highs. He kissed her hard, their noises random and sloppy as they grew closer to their end.

"Shit-" She cursed, her voice pitchy and raw as her lips brushed against his. "Rafael, I'm-"

"I know," He cut her off, catching her in a quick kiss as he feels his orgasm start to overtake his senses. "Me too."

Her hands are on either side of his neck, pressing his forehead to hers as he fucked her into her finish first, her legs tightening around him as she cries out into her climax. Her vision tunnels as she finishes, her entire body tensing into it as he gives into his own release, her name falling out of his mouth in a strained whisper. He held her close, his head buried into the crook of her neck as his spend shoots and spills onto her thighs, some leaking off of her and dripping onto the desk.

Their bodies are still pressed together, their chests heaving up and down as they tried to get their breathing to return to normal. He couldn't believe this was real. He never thought today would end up like this, with her coming off of her pleasure high and wrapped around him like this. Her legs still have a minor tremble to them, completely weak and worn out. She smiled at him when she pulled her head back to look at him, her hands resting on his shoulders.

"You okay?" She asked eventually, still a bit breathless as she looked down at the mess created by them.

"Yeah," He nodded, a grin on his face. "I'm more than okay. You?"

"I'm good," She agreed, their eyes meeting again. Hers sparkled and his were bright - they were over the moon right now. They only looked at each other for a few moments, their minds still racing and thick with ecstasy. "I...I don't know what to say."

He can't help but laugh. Truthfully, they still had a lot to discuss in terms of where they were going from here. But they had a good idea of what this meant for them. This hadn't strained or damaged their relationship in any way. If anything, it was a good first step into being more...official. So for tonight, he didn't mind just enjoying the moment.

"You don't have to say anything. Let's get you cleaned up and just..." He sighed, his grin unbreakable. "Enjoy it."

"You're right," She returned a smile. "Besides, there will be plenty of time for us to talk, huh?"

He nodded, his hands resting on the sides of her thighs as he took in this stunning picture of her.

"Of course. Plenty of time for talk...and much more."

This meant the world to them. This was a long time coming, and now that it was actually happening, it was much sweeter than they could've imagined. They're more than glad to make this a regular thing. For her to be a part of his every day in a new way...a better way for both of them.

[robingoetia12]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

Despite the fact their communication had improved, Blitzø still had his walls up and Stolas didn’t know how to get his boyfriend to open up. But god damn it, he had to try.

Or where Stolas has no idea of the pain Blitzø is hiding and tries to get him to open up, but aren’t drunk words sober thoughts?

Tags: Stolas and Blitzø have made up, Stolas is a worried boyfriend, Blitzø is traumatised, no smut, angst with fluff, mentions of alcohol problems, Blitzø misses his mum, Cash Buckzo is a prick, mentions of abuse

Chapter 1

After Stolas had finally pulled his head out of his cloaca, he and Blitzø had a long talk and finally sorted the shit out in their relationship. Now things were absolutely amazing between them.

Blitzø spent most nights at Stolas’ palace and he even brought Loona with him so she and Via could spend time together. Everything was perfect… Almost.

Despite the fact their communication had improved, Blitzø still had his walls up and Stolas didn’t know how to get his boyfriend to open up. But god damn it he had to try.

Blitzø was never late back to Stolas’. Ever. Every passing minute of the clock and every coffee refill only caused the prince’s mind to increasingly fester with worry. His thoughts kept flashing to every worst possible scenario of what could’ve happened to Blitzø. As his thoughts travelled to the possibility of Striker kidnapping him, the door swung open.

In stumbled Blitzø, clearly drunk. Stolas sighed in relief and walked towards him then crouched to the imp’s level to meet his yellow eyes that were fixed on the floor. “Darling. Where were you? Are you okay?”

Blitzø, unusually silent, wrapped his arms around Stolas’ waist. Stolas hugged him back but then felt him shaking in his grip and then heard quiet sobs coming out of Blitzø’s mouth, the tears soaking the owl’s feathers. And then the frantic mumbling started.

“I’m sorry…”

Stolas tried to pull Blitzø back so he could look at him properly but Blitzø clung to him tighter, his voice rising and cracking more.

“No momma! Please I’m sorry.”

Stolas froze up. Blitzø had never mentioned his mother or any of his family before. “Darling-”

“Mom please! I love you, I’m sorry.”

Stolas knew he wasn’t listening and was too drunk to focus so he scooped his boyfriend up and tucked him into their bed. He headed out to get him a glass of water to sober him up. What he heard next nearly made him drop the glass.

“Dad please don’t! It hurts!”

Stolas nearly let out a hysterical sob but covered his mouth to stop himself so it came out as a quiet, strained cry. He could see that Blitzø had fallen asleep but then heard one more murmur from him.

“Please, I’ll be better… I just want to see Fizz…”

Stolas got into bed next to him and reached out for Blitzø’s spikes on his back and could still feel the shaking from his body and Stolas noticed how he wrapped his tail around himself. He rubbed his back gently to try and soothe him. “I love you darling…”

He couldn’t sleep after that. He kept tossing and turning, desperately trying to figure out what Blitzø went through and how he could help him but thinking about what it could possibly be made his stomach churn.

How did he not notice?

How did he not realise how affected he clearly was by whatever happened to him?

How could he help him open up?

Blitzø woke up the next morning, head pounding. He fell back onto the bed dramatically. “Ugh… I drank way too much last night, fuck…” He turned his head and saw Stolas clinging to him, still asleep. He smiled softly and stroked his feathers and went to check the time and saw it was 9am.

Shit.

He needed to be in the office in 15 minutes. He gently extracted himself out of Stolas’ arms, being careful not to wake him and jumped off the bed seeing his jacket hung on the back of Stolas’ door and pulled it on. Stolas sat up and blinked like a frog, groggily observing Blitzø rush around. “Darling? Everything okay?”

“Yeah… I need to go like now. We have a client who wants us to kill their target in some bullshit way so I gotta go.” He explained whilst opening the door.

Stolas followed him, red dressing gown on and holding the glass of water. “Do you want something to eat before you leave?”

Blitzø turned around. Despite the fact he and Stolas were a couple he still wasn’t used to being cared for. He was used to people leaving him…

“What? Uh no thanks it’s fine I’ll pick something up on the way.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket as he got to the front door. Stolas gently pulled him back.

“Will you at least drink this before you leave? You came home very intoxicated last night. It’ll do you some good.”

Blitzø rolled his eyes and took the glass. “Fine…” He downed the entire thing and then placed on the nearby table. Stolas was still frazzled from last night. He desperately wanted to hold Blitzø and protect him from anything that might hurt him again.

Stolas quickly spoke up before Blitzø left. “You’re coming home tonight aren’t you?” Blitzø looks up at him, holding his keys. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout last night, can’t have been fun to put up with me shit faced.” Stolas bent down and hugged him, mumbling about how he didn’t have to apologise. Blitzø snorted slightly, hugging him back. “Christ on a stick, someone’s all lovey dovey this morning.”

Stolas pulled away and kissed the imp softly on his lips and pressed his forehead against his. “I love you darling…” Blitzø smiled and opened the door. “Love you too, ya dork.” He left and sped away in his van. Stolas sighed heavily as the van disappeared. His heart was in his chest, he didn’t know how to help Blitzø.

But he would do whatever he could to keep him safe and happy.

No matter what.

A/N: Proof read by my sister @charliewalkersgf (she doesn’t even like Helluva Boss so she’s been forced into it lmao 🤣) and thanks for the people who replied to a post I made about the dialogue!! You all were very helpful and creative!!! Hope you enjoyed the fic!!! More chapters to come!!

[camaro-and-smokes]

Get Out of My Dreams, Get into My Car

Chapter 9: Can't fight this feeling

Moodboard by the amazing @a-redharlequin 💜

No warnings for this chapter. Tags: Feelings realization (the other way around I guess)

Summary: Steve had been struggling the whole night with the words he should've said in the evening and in the morning he finally decides just to go for it. Unfortunately the universe seems to have everything against him on that day.

Read on AO3 >>

:::::::::::

Steve had kicked himself mentally through the entire night for not saying the words in the evening. Three small words that would’ve probably changed everything and he couldn’t get them out of his mouth.

And now that they were sitting at the breakfast table, it felt just stupid if he’d say them here in the middle of coffee and eggs. Pass me the sugar and I like you please don’t go to your ex’s art thing.

“So, you’re going to the opening, then?” he ventured as he stirred his coffee absentmindedly.

Billy nodded, keeping his eyes on the newspaper.

“Uh, about that…” Steve started his brave try, despite the awkwardness.

Billy looked up from the newspaper.

“At what time is it?” Steve asked.

“Six.”

“Right.” Just say it, you idiot, Steve scolded himself. “I was thinking, um…”

Suddenly there was a loud knock on the terrace door and both of them turned to look at who was pounding it at this hour.

“Hey, Malibu!” Argyle shouted through the door. “Weren’t we supposed to catch some waves this morning?”

“Oh, yeah, just a moment!” Billy shouted back and looked at Steve. “We agreed with Argyle that we’d go…” Billy started and motioned to the living room.

Steve wanted to strangle Argyle. “Yeah, you go ahead,” he said with a wave of his hand, managing to keep his tone light—but just barely.

Billy looked at him for a moment. “You sure?”

Steve nodded. “U-huh. It can wait.”

“Alright,” Billy said, nodding. He shouted to Argyle, “I’ll be there in five!” and left to get his gear.

Steve leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. He tried to assure himself that he could still talk about it with Billy when he came back from the beach. There was time.

So, to spend the time doing something productive, he finished his breakfast, read the newspaper from cover to cover—hardly remembering any of it, though—and washed the dishes.

He was drying the last plates when the phone rang. He dried his hands on the towel and unhooked the receiver. “Harrington.”

“Morning, Steve,” came a familiar female voice through the wire.

Steve leaned his head against the wall, groaning inwardly. “Hi, mom.”

“We just arrived in San Diego yesterday and I thought—”

“You’re here?” Steve interrupted her, confused. “Why didn’t you call earlier?”

“Well, your father wanted to spend a few days longer in Vegas than we planned and then we kind of forgot.”

Steve sighed. “You were coming this way and didn’t let me know?”

“Well, we thought we’d surprise you,” his mother said with the tone that told Steve that he shouldn’t be offended when his parents decided to grace him with their existence out of the blue.

Steve ran his hand over his face. He already knew where this was going and…he didn’t exactly have anything special to do except that talk with Billy and keep him from going to the gallery opening. He let out a deep sigh. “Okay. What did you have in mind?”

Mrs. Harrington wasn’t amused. “Don’t sound so eager about it, Steve.”

He set the receiver on his shoulder to a bit to squeeze his eyes closed. “Sorry. I just have…things to figure out.”

“Well, can you take a break from thinking and come for a brunch with your parents? Maybe you could recommend a restaurant and we could meet there?”

+ + +

When Billy came back from the beach, to his disappointment, Steve was gone. While in the zone on his board, he’d decided that they’d need to talk about last night—and maybe ask if Steve would want to join him at the opening. To keep Rob from getting any stupid ideas and…just to go out with Steve. Totally not for a date, but just…out.

But now he had no option but to wait for Steve to come back. So, he took a shower and then sat on the couch to watch TV.

Just as he was starting to relax, when the phone ringing in the kitchen shattered the quiet and jolted him back to reality.

Alice, the owner of the aerobic studio, was on the other end, her voice sounding like it came from the bottom of a barrel. “Hi, Billy! I’m sorry this comes on a such a short notice, but would you be able to do my aerobic classes today? I got some nasty bug, and I won’t be leaving the house today.”

Billy wasn’t entirely thrilled about the idea. “Uh, depends on what time,” Billy replied, rubbing his neck with his hand. He knew how much the studio meant to Alice, but he wouldn’t want to be the first she’d call next time…

“They’re from three to five. Please, Billy, everyone else has said no, and I don’t want to cancel.”

Billy looked at the clock on the opposite wall. It was already 2:20 pm, so in order to make it on time, he would have to leave now. “Well, you could’ve called a bit earlier, but sure, I can do that.”

“You are an angel! I’ll make this up to you! Just make sure to be on time,” she teased him, reminding him of the many times he’d been late for his own classes.

Billy laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave right now.”

After hanging up, Billy went to put his aerobics gear together. While at it, he realized that there wouldn’t be time for him to come back home from the studio. He’d have to go to the gallery straight from there.

What a perfect reason to cancel going to the whole thing.

But if he did that, said that he was sick and couldn’t go, even if Rob wouldn’t know he lied, he himself would. And part in becoming himself was to be honest with himself and to everyone else…

Fuck.

He didn’t have to stay there more than just show up, have a flute of sparkling and come back home. He’d live through it.

Now all he needed to do was to go through his wardrobe quickly to find something to wear in the evening and change into at the studio.

+ + +

The brunch with his parents had lasted longer than Steve had expected. It had been nice to see them because he hadn’t seen them after he’d moved away from Hawkins. And since he knew he had time to talk with Billy before six pm, he hadn’t rushed back.

So, when he finally got back home, it was a surprise to find the house empty.

“Billy?” he called out.

No response.

He checked the living room, kitchen and even poked his head into Billy’s bedroom, but there was no sign of him. Not even a note on the kitchen table.

He looked at the aerobics class list on the fridge door, held up by a magnetic surfboard, and immediately he heard Billy’s voice in his head correcting him: It’s a longboard! There’s a difference! It made him smile—apparently he’d finally learned the lesson.

He concentrated on looking at the timetable: Billy’s classes were on Tuesday and Wednesday, and he was fairly certain Billy wouldn’t go for an extra lesson today. Or any day, really. He did his exercise on the waves and by lifting and aerobics was on his own exercise schedule only in the winter.

Steve’s shoulders slumped as he walked back to the living room and plopped down on the couch. He had no idea where Billy could be. The only option he really had was to wait and then go to the gallery and try to catch him at the opening before Rob would do any more damage.

At least he knew where the opening was because it was written on the calendar on the wall; The Brush Poets’ Gallery.

+ + +

Billy walked through the bustling art gallery, his stomach churning with a cocktail of nerves and morbid curiosity. It had been months since he’d last seen Rob, and the prospects of their reunion filled him with equal parts dread and anticipation.

Just breathe. You’ve got this. It’s not like you’re still hung up on the guy, right? He tried to reassure himself, but his sweaty palms and racing heart told a different story.

As he navigated the throng of well-dressed somebodies, Billy caught sight of one of Rob’s paintings hanging on the wall. Rob had painted it during one of their steamy nights, and it made Billy’s chest ache with a bittersweet pang of nostalgia.

Don’t go down that road again , he chided himself firmly. Rob’s ancient history. You’re here just for …Though he wasn’t really sure why he was there. He knew he should’ve left Rob behind, for good, ages ago, but hearing his voice on the phone had breathed life into the embers of the love Billy once had felt.

Fucking feelings. Nothing but trouble.

He found his way to the other end of the space and…there stood Rob next to a podium, looking infuriatingly handsome in a tailored suit that hugged his lean frame in all the right places.

Billy snorted and pondered for a moment who Rob had coaxed into giving him the money for it, since sure as hell wouldn’t have money for having tailored anything himself.

Probably someone from this crowd. Though Billy was sure most of them were here just to show themselves and get tipsy before heading out to the blinding lights of the city.

As if on cue, Rob turned to look in Billy’s direction, and the way his eyes lit up when their gazes met made butterflies take flight in Billy’s stomach.

Though Billy wasn’t sure if it was a flutter of cute small butterflies or just a few big, ugly moths reminding him of the pain Rob had caused.

+ + +

The dusk had started to settle when Steve parked his car around the corner from the gallery. He gripped the steering wheel for a while after turning off the engine. He wasn’t entirely sure if this still was a good idea. But he also knew it needed to be done. He needed it done.

So, he got out of the car and walked back to the gallery, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket. When he got there, he stopped to look inside through the windows. Surprisingly sizable crowd of people seemed to be inside. He recognized some faces—sure as hell, everyone who’s anyone, and so on. He tried to look for Billy, but there were too many people for him to tell.

Doubt crept in as he gazed inside. He wasn’t sure if he should be here. If it would make any difference. But going in was his only possibility to tell Billy how he felt before Rob did something that would ruin his chances.

The vibrant atmosphere of the gallery enveloped him as he stepped through the doors. The bright track lights illuminated the colorful abstract paintings that lined the white walls, and soft instrumental music mingled with the lively chatter of the crowd holding wine glasses.

But there was only one thing Steve’s eyes were on the lookout for; the long blond curls.

“A glass of Chardonnay, sir?” a waiter materialized at Steve’s elbow.

Steve jumped at the sudden words coming from right next to him. “Oh, um, no thank you,” Steve stammered.

Get it together, Harrington.

To calm himself, he took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of expensive perfume that lingered all over. He meandered along the perimeter, taking in the colorful, emotive artworks while surreptitiously keeping an eye out for Billy in the crowd.

With each passing moment, his nerves raised closer to the surface. What would he even say if he bumped into Billy? Hey buddy, fancy seeing you here! Looking damn fine in that…whatever he would be wearing.

Steve shook his head. Great, only cheesy pickup lines in store.

As Steve found his way further into the space, he finally stopped. There, on the side of a small podium, was Billy.

Steve smiled. Billy had his hair up in a messy bun and strands were hanging loose, framing his face. He was wearing a simple white silk shirt that hung on his broad shoulders and—if it was any consolation to Steve—his normal blue jeans and not the tighter than tight black jeans he usually wore when he went out. Not that the blue ones were any less tight, mind you.

+ + +

Just before Billy reached Rob, the artist stepped up to the small podium and raised his hand to silence the crowd. His voice rose above the chatter as he began his thank you speech, and Billy found himself drawn into the orbit of his presence despite the nagging discomfort.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” his snobby voice rang out, silencing the room. “I want to thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate the unveiling of my latest collection.”

+ + +

So, this was the infamous Rob, Steve thought as the tall, dark-haired man started talking. A lot better looking than he had imagined, and, he had to admit, he could vaguely understand what Billy must’ve seen in the guy.

Rob continued his speech, his tone dripping with self-importance. “This exhibition would not have been possible without the support of you, my patrons and my friends, and most importantly, my muse.” Then he turned to look down at Billy with a wide smile, his hand reaching out.

+ + +

Billy’s heart stopped as Rob’s gaze locked with his. Oh, no. Please don’t. Not here, not now...

But it was too late. Rob was already reaching out, his eyes never leaving Billy’s. Once again, Rob did what he did best; put Billy in the spotlight so that he couldn’t say no.

Billy allowed himself to be pulled onto the podium, standing next to Rob.

Rob took his hand in his. “This man, this incredible, beautiful man, has been the inspiration behind every brush stroke, every color choice. My boyfriend, Billy Hargrove.”

Billy felt the color drain from his face as every head in the room swiveled to stare at him. Boyfriend? What the hell? We broke up months ago!

+ + +

Steve’s stomach twisted, his mind reeling. Boyfriend? Was this guy serious?

Rob had hurt Billy and Billy wouldn’t go back with him unless…

Unless…they’d made up.

Billy had been gone when Steve got home, and that was a few hours before this event was to start. What if they’d been talking things through and…

+ + +

Before Billy could protest, in a swift, fluid motion, Rob leaned in and captured Billy’s lips in a passionate kiss. His mind reeled as Rob’s lips moved against his, the familiar taste and scent of him flooding his senses with memories he’d tried so hard to forget.

+ + +

Steve watched, frozen, as Billy melted into Rob’s embrace, their bodies fitting together like perfectly sculpted puzzle pieces—and his heart shattered, the pieces scattering like shards of glass on the floor.

His eyes were stinging. Conflicting emotions washed over him, each one more painful than the last. The realization that he had lost his chance with Billy, that he had been too late, too cautious, too afraid, hit him like a wrecking ball.

You waited too long, and now look where it’s gotten you, he berated himself silently.

The bitter taste of regret lingered on his tongue, the weight of what could have been pressing down on his shoulders. He had missed his chance, and now he had to live with the knowledge that Billy’s heart belonged to someone else.

With a heavy heart, Steve made the swift decision to leave the gallery. He quickly slipped through the crowd, his steps laden with disappointment and regret.

+ + +

When Rob finally pulled away, Billy was breathless and shaking, a storm of emotions raging inside him. Shock, anger, confusion, and worst of all…a traitorous flicker of desire that he couldn’t seem to quench no matter how hard he tried.

With a shaky breath, Billy pulled away from Rob’s embrace, his insides blazing with a mix of hurt and determination. “I…I can’t…Rob, you can’t just waltz back into my life and pretend nothing’s changed,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You made it pretty clear that we’re over when you walked out of my life.”

Rob’s confident smile faltered, and he glanced at the crowd that was looking at them, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Come on, babe. We’re meant to be together. Why else would fate bring us here tonight?”

Billy shook his head, a mirthless chuckle escaping his lips. “Fate? No! You asked me to come, and I was stupid enough to do that. You’re just trying to mess with my head again. It’s not going to work this time.” He took a step back, putting some much-needed distance between them. “I’ve moved on. I’ve found someone who actually cares about me, who’s there for me when I need him. Someone who doesn’t just use me as a prop in his little art world dramas.” He said the last sentence louder than the rest, ensuring that at least the front row heard it.

Rob’s face darkened, his jaw clenching. “Oh, please. You expect me to believe you’ve found someone better than me? Who is this mystery man, huh?”

Billy turned away from Rob, determined to step down from the podium when his eyes spotted a familiar figure by the large windows of the gallery, quickly retreating towards the door.

Steve.

His heart seized in his chest as he watched Steve go out the door, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed.

And in that moment, everything clicked into place.

Steve had come after him. He wouldn’t be here, unless…Unless he had feelings—for him.

Without another word to Rob, Billy stepped down from the podium and pushed his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the door Steve had just disappeared through.

+ + +

The cool night air enveloped Steve as he stepped out of the gallery, a welcome change from the suffocating atmosphere inside. As he walked back to his car, he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the crisp, clean air, hoping it would somehow cleanse the pain that had settled in his chest.

+ + +

Billy burst through the gallery door, his heart pounding in his chest as he scanned the crowded street for any sign of Steve. The cool evening air hit his skin, a stark contrast to the stuffy atmosphere inside the gallery, but he barely noticed. All he could think about was finding Steve as he scanned the street with his gaze.

Come on, Steve. Where are you?

Just as he was losing hope, he caught a glimpse of the familiar dark hair turning the corner up ahead. His heart leaped in his chest, and he took off to follow it, dodging around a group of tourists who were blocking his path.

+ + +

Steve fished the keys out of his pocket, his fingers trembling slightly as he unlocked the door and slid into the driver’s seat. The familiar scent of leather and the soft purr of the engine as he turned the key provided a small measure of comfort, a reminder that at least some things were constant in his life that would remain unchanged.

As he pulled out of the parking spot and onto the street, he let his mind wander, replaying the events of the evening in his head.

The image of Billy and Rob, locked in a passionate embrace, seemed to be seared into his memory, a painful reminder of what he had lost before he even had a chance to truly have it.

+ + +

Billy rounded the corner, his breath coming in quick gasps as he searched the street ahead. There was no sign of Steve. He’d probably had his car parked near here and had just pulled off.

“Fuck!” Billy growled, startling an elderly couple who was just passing him. They mumbled something about manners as they continued on their way.

Billy turned on his heel and headed back towards the gallery, his mind already mapping out the quickest route back home.

He burst back into the gallery, his heart pounding and his mind reeling. Barely registering the curious stares and whispered comments from the other attendees, he made a beeline to the chair next to the podium, where he’d left his jacket.

As he shrugged it on, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Babe, where are you going?” Rob asked, his voice laced with concern and a hint of annoyance.

Billy turned to face him, his jaw set and his eyes blazing. “I’m going after Steve,” he said firmly.

Rob’s eyes widened in surprise. “Steve? Who is Steve?”

“He’s the one.”

Rob rolled his eyes. “You’re going to run off after some other guy when you have me?”

Billy shook his head, a rueful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Rob, what we had was special, but it’s over. Steve is the one I want to be with. Don’t call me again. Ever.”

With that, Billy turned and walked away.

As he pushed through the gallery doors and out into the cool night air and towards the Camaro, he felt a sense of lightness for finally doing what he should’ve done a long time ago. Stopped hanging on to a guy who couldn’t commit and open his eyes to the one who had been there all this time—Steve.

[triglycercule]

horror's jacket fluff has probably accumulated so much DISGUSTINGNESS over 7 years in it that it's managed to acquire it's own signature Dog Smell (TM). however i think this would be a prime opportunity to pet him and then get some of that disgusting smell on you because for some reasons Dog Smell is just unavoidable when you pet a dog with a lot of hair

he'd hate it but awww awww whos a good boy (ﾉ´∀｀*) whos a good boy (*≧∪≦) YOU ARE!!! awww so cute you didn't commit all those murders against innocent people you were innocent (￣▽￣)／ such a good boy!!!! (gets beheaded) (he got too embarrassed)

[calamitydaze]

long tag ramble below u have been warned

[maya-matlin]

very UO but if they couldn’t bring back Jake, they should have stuck Peyton and Julian together as endgame over Leyton! Julian and Peyton had already supposedly been in love, they both like cities (LA, NYC etc) and it makes sense they’d live there due to their careers, and both Peyton and Julian for a lot of their time on the series seemed ambivalent about starting a family. Also, Julian is smart and on the introverted side like Lucas but a little goofy like Jake - a combination of the traits Payron goes for! Meanwhile, we saw so clearly in season 5 that Brooke and Lucas both loved being back in one tree hill, they both seem to have jobs they can do anywhere, they both very much prioritize settling down and having a family, they were already unofficially co-parenting Angie, they still have that seemingly effortless and magical connection, they balance each other out perfectly…I could go on!

Honestly, I wouldn't have minded that one bit. First of all, Peyton deserved a million times better than Lucas by the time he finally got around to choosing her. She was lacking any sort of spine or self respect when she ran to that airport. As irritating as I found her character for large stretches of season 5, ultimately she wasn't in the greatest place and only imagined that her happiness could be attainable if she won Lucas back. Now to get back to what you were saying. I definitely think Peyton was better off and would have thrived most living away from Tree Hill in a bigger city where her dreams could really take off. I mean, the show really said that because Peyton wasn't exactly where she wanted to be at age 22 that this made her a failure and retroactively meant her decision not to rush down the aisle at age 19 had been a terrible, awful, shameful mistake. Seasons 6 and 7 Julian would have made a lot of sense as a partner for the ambitious Peyton who had faced so much trauma and pain in her hometown. STRONGLY agreed about your points re: Peyton and Julian being ambivalent and sometimes even negative about settling down in Tree Hill compared to Brooke and Lucas who genuinely loved it there and couldn't imagine raising their families elsewhere. I'm aware every aspect of this was unintentional considering the possibility of a Brucas endgame post season 3 was basically taboo, but in terms of compatibility Brooke/Lucas and Peyton/Julian made the most sense. If we couldn't have Jake back for Peyton, obviously. In the end, Peyton still left Tree Hill, something Lucas never wanted. And Julian settled for staying in Tree Hill for Brooke even though he'd rather be in LA. Relationships are all about compromise, but it's interesting how their situations sort of parallel. You should go on, because I love reading your thoughts! I genuinely think if not for Peyton's continued interest in Lucas and Lucas having an unfortunate history of making the same mistakes over and over again, Lucas would have eventually ended up with Brooke. Season 5 Brucas had such an ease around each other. Their goals lined up perfectly. The chemistry was still there. Their communication was really solid and both went out of their way to emotionally support the other. Maybe it's because the pressure was off considering neither was expressing their feelings, but you see them taking care of Angie and the way Lucas considered proposing to Brooke and instinctively know that they could have had it all. It's really depressing.

[featherymainffins]

Why you all got ok mothers leave some for the rest of us

[hipipi]

.

[whimsyvixen]

𝔼𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕪 𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤

Silent Hill Fic Rating: 18+ Pairing: Pyramid Head x Female Reader Synopsis/Excerpt: His helmet had jerked your way, the sudden movement making your heart drop to your stomach. You couldn't look away from him, mouth agape at the towering menace. You didn't understand how, but you felt him peruse your form--nausea hitting you when he let out a guttural growl and headed straight for you. WARNINGS/TAGS: Dark fic, rape/noncon elements, extremely dubious consent, explicit content, blood play, heavy NSFW, teratophilia(?), monster/human, choking, dacryphilia, rough sex, unprotected sex, forced orgasm, tummy bulge, creampie, very obvious size difference. ⚠️ READ THE TAGS: Please be aware this work contains content that the reader may feel uncomfortable with or otherwise triggered by. DO NOT READ if bothered by tags (no minors). ⚠️

A/N: I had to make sure to finish this one before Halloween! Sorry for the long wait, you guys! I got no tricks with me so I'm just going to hand over this little treat right here ! 🍬

You hid beneath a large table, hands over your mouth to control your breathing as the floor shook. You could feel your heart beating intensely, the organ wanting to burst out of your chest as pure terror seized you when the footsteps paused near your hiding spot.

He was right in front of you. The only being you encountered in the desolate town of Silent Hill.

The monster. 

~

He had emerged out of an alley, swarmed by bugs as he trudged his way through, his massive frame freezing you in place. His head was encumbered by a steel frame, pyramid in its shape and heavy in appearance if his tortured groans were anything to go by. His scarred torso and bulging arms were bare, showcasing the immense power he held as he dragged a massive knife behind him.

You couldn't contain your gasp when you caught sight of it.

His helmet had jerked your way, the sudden movement making your heart drop to your stomach. You couldn't look away from him, mouth agape at the towering menace. You didn't understand how, but you felt him peruse your form--nausea hitting you when he let out a guttural growl and headed straight for you.

Fuck!

You bolted then, nearly tripping over your own feet in your desperation to get away from him. With the amount of blood soaking him and those unnerving growls, you weren't willing to take a chance and find out what he would do to you. Too afraid to look back, you continued running in the abandoned town, losing sight of where you were as you tried to find somewhere to hide. 

What buildings you could make out were old and rundown, their windows smashed and doors creaking ominously. They would not provide you with the cover you needed. You could faintly hear him behind you, breaking into a cold sweat when you turned your head and couldn't spot him in the dense fog. 

When you caught sight of the abandoned school, your lungs felt like bursting and your legs ached from overexerting yourself to run. Your body needed to rest before you collapsed from the fatigue. It was a large enough building that finding you would be a tasking ordeal for the monster. Perhaps he would give up his search for you and allow you to find a way out of this hellish place. You could only hope that you lost him earlier and he wouldn’t know where you crawled off to. 

Running up the steps to the entrance, you were met with the despairing sight of chains wrapped around the steel doors. 

“No, no, no…” you pleaded, grabbing onto the chains in hopes they were loose enough to open the doors. Luck was on your side, because they were– chains pulling taut around the doors, opening just enough to allow someone to squeeze through with some difficulty. Struggling to wiggle your way through, you pushed with all your might and breathed a sigh of relief when you fell inside. 

Taking deep breaths, you looked around and tried to make sense of your surroundings. Needing to squint your eyes to adjust seeing in the dark, you could see a narrow hallway with dirty and rusty lockers lined along the walls. It was an uncanny sight, the broken down doors of the classrooms and splintering wood of the floor making you realize how decrepit this place was. It was so unkempt and old that you flinched when the floorboards creaked with every step you took. You felt like dying every time the floor protested your weight and critters ran spooked by the noise.

The hall turned a sharp corner to the left, more lockers and doors appearing on either side of the walls as before. It was then you noticed the broken elevator, the metal frame twisted in sharp angles and torn cables dangling from tears in the ceiling. If there was an elevator here, then that must mean there was a way up! 

Not caring this time about the noise you made, you hurried to the end of the hall trying to see if you could find some way to get to the second floor. If you could just get there, you would have the advantage of viewing who (or what) was below you on the ground. Maybe even spot a route or path out of this place. Passing by the restrooms, you nearly gagged when a putrid stench hit your nose. The buzzing of flies and roaches in the area made you squeamish, your face scrunching into a disgusted grimace at the dirty facilities before continuing your trek forward.

Finding the stairs was a much harder task than you expected. Faced with multiple locked areas of the building, you were forced to backtrack and navigate through other sections of the building to find another way up. It seemed like a dead end everywhere you turned. 

Just when you were about to give up, you finally spotted stairs leading to the upper floor. 

“Finally,” you muttered in exasperation. Your turtle neck shirt was damp with your sweat, clinging to your body so uncomfortably that you would definitely need a shower soon. Placing a hand on the cracked wall nearest you, you took a breather, closing your eyes as you tried to get your energy back up again. 

“Just a little bit more. Don’t give up yet.” 

Forcing your aching feet to move, you headed tiredly towards the stairs. Once you reached them, you walked up to the landing, turning left to continue climbing forward when you noticed something. 

“You have got to be kidding me?!”

A disbelieving look crossed your face. In front of you was a dilemma that nearly made you scream in frustration. The only way to the upper floor was barricaded with chairs and tables, furniture piled up haphazardly along the second set of stairs as if to ensure no one could get by it. It effectively put a stop to your plans. 

Maybe you could climb over the obstruction? No, you couldn’t risk something falling out of place and crushing you with its weight, causing you harm in the end. You thought about using the railing to skip past the hurdle of furniture, but hearing the creak of the brittle handrail when you held it had you rethinking that idea. Placing your hands on your hips, you tried thinking of how to get past this obstacle. Maybe taking it apart little by little would help?

Seeing as you had no choice, you started dismantling the barricade one chair at a time. The tables were too heavy and had your arms shaking from the effort of pulling them so you left them for last. Once you piled up enough chairs to give you room to move one of the tables, you shook your hands to prepare them to take the brunt of the weight. 

While you were busy with this task, you didn’t know you damned yourself.

What you didn’t know was when you squeezed through the gap of the entrance, your sweater caught on an edge and tore a strip of the pink cloth. You didn’t know it was like a beacon, its vibrant color contrasting from the dull and bleak setting of the school. You didn’t know he held it in his bloodied hand, bringing it to his hidden face as if to smell you. You didn’t see the shudder that went through him. You also didn't see him bursting through the shackled entrance of the school, breaking the chain to pieces as the steel doors lay bent beneath his foot.

However, you did feel the building shake following a loud crash. 

Startled at the muffled explosion, you released the legs of the table you were holding, crouching as you looked around wildly. The echoed sounds of doors being forced open could then be heard even from a distance. Lockers were slammed and torn off the walls, the clash of metal producing an awful screeching sound that resonated across the empty building.

What?! What was that?! You panicked internally, palms sweating as you hid behind the railing. What could’ve made that thunderous sound? Was it him?! It couldn’t be, could it? Trembling with fear, you realized you were a sitting duck. You couldn't go back the way you came or you’ll risk facing what caused that loud commotion.

When you heard a familiar growl, you couldn’t stop the tiny sob escaping your lips. It was HIM! When his steps edged closer to your location, your eyes wandered desperately around your cornered space and spotted a clothed table at the bottom of the stairs. Running down the stairs, you all but crawled beneath the table, tucking your feet in as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. You didn’t have any other option. The cloth provided you with enough cover to pull off not being seen and you could only pray you weren't found.

Eyes wide with fear, you held your breath when he turned the corner, the floor trembling with every heavy step of his boots. You could also hear the scrape of the giant sword he dragged with him, the shrill sound hurting your ears. You nearly bolted when you heard the locker doors being opened one by one before getting slammed shut.

Oh God, please, don't let him find me. Please, please, please. You shut your eyes tightly, clasping your hands against your mouth as you tried to keep as quiet as you could. The corner of your eyes teared up, a lump in your throat wanting to give way to sobs of distress the closer he got.

~

His trudging steps slowed as he surveyed the area. 

Pyramid Head tilted his head curiously, his helmet creaking with the action. He didn’t know where you hid but he could sense you near. When he pressed that piece of fabric to his helmed head, your intoxicating aroma set his nerves of fire, twisting his mind into a lustful haze–the urge to pillage and kill you getting stronger by the minute. 

When he heard that soft gasp earlier in the alley, he was stunned by your feminine form mere meters away from him. You were a small thing compared to him, the top of your head not even reaching his chest. Whatever surprise he felt was momentary, desire quickly flooding his veins as he drank in your lovely shape. How long since a pretty thing like you entered this infernal domain? How easy would it be to subdue you and make you a slave to his lust? What sounds could he coax from those wet lips of yours? His member twitched to life beneath his withered skirt, the thought of possessing you clouding his mind with lascivious images of your naked body beneath him.

When he took a step towards you, you ran like a frightened lamb.

Watching you turn around to flee– the distance growing between you with every passing second– Pyramid Head gripped his weapon tightly, anger consuming him as he followed right after you. 

As if he would allow you to escape him. 

He would take you. Tarnish that soft flesh and desecrate your soul until you were nothing but a bloody heap beneath him. 

He just needed to catch you first. 

Opening the lockers one by one, he couldn’t suppress his frustrated grumbles when you weren’t there. Where were you? He shifted his attention to the familiar clutter of furniture on the staircase, noting how neatly some chairs were piled in a corner–knowing that the times he’s ventured here, the chairs were never tampered in such a way. 

Realizing how close he must be to capturing you, he started up the stairs, dropping his weapon without a care as he tore down the barricade in a frenzy to find you. 

When his search proved fruitless, the veins in his arms and neck became more prominent from his fury. WHERE WERE YOU? Blind with rage, he smashed his fists against the broken furniture and the rotting walls, tearing everything in his wake as he roared loud enough to make his helmet vibrate violently from the sound. It hurt enough to cause him to rupture something and bleed, trails of blood dripping down his neck to mix with the blood of his other victims.

As he stood breathing heavily on the landing of the stairs, trying to shake off the cloud of anger consuming him, a faint creak was heard downstairs. He twisted his body to look behind him, crazily observing the area where he heard it from. 

There was a lone table. The once white cloth adorning it was an ugly shade of brown, time not being kind to as it had torn holes ruining it. He could care less about the useless piece of cloth. What had his undivided attention was the dainty fingers that could be seen poking out beneath it. 

There was a moment of silence before he charged down the stairs. 

Gripping the sides of the table, he flung it across the hall, old wood shattering to pieces when it smacked against the railing of the stairs. He paid little mind to the destruction he created, his focus landing entirely on your meek figure below him. A look of horror crossed your face, mouth open in shock as you stared up at him. A rumble of contentment echoed within his helmet having finally found his prize, quickly dropping down to his knees to grab you and pin you between his legs.

It didn’t take much to overpower you, Pyramid Head sitting on your thighs to lessen your squirming. Bunching the pink fabric in his hands, he tore your sweater apart like paper, your startled scream doing little to deter him. His bloodied hands groped the exposed flesh hungrily, smudging your torso with the red substance as you shrieked in disgust. The way the softness of your tummy gave under his firm hands had him addicted. He loved how weak and pliant your flesh was.

Your mounds were a sight too, spilling off the cups of the small band around your chest. He tore that off easily too, your bust jiggling from the action and making him groan at the sight. Much to his pleasure, he saw your skin pebble with goosebumps, the cool air of the room turning your nipples into tight buds.

His hands moved, thick fingers stroking over your breasts to test the doughy texture. You gasped, arching from the pressure, unknowingly pushing your chest against his palms. Much to your chagrin, the rough pads of his fingers sent a fire bolt careening from your nipples and through your quivering belly to ignite heat into your core. You bit your lip, ignoring the sensation as you tried shoving his hands away with your feeble strength. When he tugged harshly on the tips of your breasts, you let out a pained whine, the kittenish sound sending a shock of pleasure down his spine. He wished to tear you apart, bathe in your essence as he drank up your tortured cries.

He was reluctant to pull his hands away from you, your body smeared in a beautiful canvas of blood, but his need to fully claim you could not be denied.  Pyramid Head removed his hands from your breasts with a final rough squeeze, shifting one to rub his erection to alleviate some of his need, while the other hand trailed down to caress your clothed hip possessively.

He was bewitched by you, reverently stroking your skin with bloodied hands to dirty your purity. Shielding your breasts from his view, you were a vision with your head turned to the side, choking on a sob as you realized that despite how your mind protested his brutish touches, your body betrayed you when slickness dripped between your thighs.

At war with yourself, you didn't pay attention when his attention turned to the last article of clothing preserving your modesty.

Easing up on his weight, he shifted his body down to tug at your black jeans. When the tight fabric stuck around your hips, he grew irritated at the minor inconvenience. Before you could voice out a protest, he roughly flipped you over onto your stomach, shock coursing through you when he tore the denim to shreds at your sides, dragging the rest of it down your legs and taking your panties and shoes with them.

You could feel the heat in your face at the state of your nudity. He caressed your ass then– forcing an undignified yelp from you at the offensive touch– squeezing the globes on either palm, his nails digging into the fat hard enough to leave lasting bruises on your unblemished skin. 

"N-no! You're hurting me!" 

You hissed between your teeth, sharp aches blossoming from where his fingers pressed on your ass. You shivered with disgust when the blood on his hands dirtied your globes, matching it with the mess of your front.

Brushing a calloused finger along your vulva, he was met with the heat of your pussy. It had your body jerking to attention, the blood draining from your face in an instant. When he tried to insert the bloody finger inside you, you shook erratically, your hands scrambling for purchase on the floor to get away from him. 

Tired of your antics, he twisted you to your back, uncaring of the yelp that left you when the back of your head hit the floor with a loud thud. Holding you down with one hand around your neck, he nearly choked you as he began pulling impatiently at the fastenings of his long skirt to jerk himself free with his other. His body shook with excitement, enticed by your naked flesh even as you begged sweetly under him. 

He paid little mind to your frantic scratching on his arm, the pain miniscule when compared to the hard throbbing of his cock— the twitching member pulsating so strongly that it had his mind blazing from the painful pressure, a groan of distress escaping him the longer it was kept confined. Pain that would only be soothed once he was encompassed by the tight walls of your pussy. 

~

The state of your mind went into a panic when you saw it. What lay between those muscled thighs was a monstrosity. It would bring you nothing but pure anguish and misery, the way it could barely spring upward with its heavy weight. Accompanied by an equally heavy set of balls and prominent veins lining the length of it– it was more of an instrument of pain than that of pleasure, meant to punish and brutalize those that fell victim to it. 

A whimper left you before you started thrashing in earnest, clawing away at his arm to get away from that. 

"LET GO OF ME! NO! Y-YOU CAN'T-!" 

You didn't care that he could snap your neck in a second, didn't care that he could rip you limb from limb or crush your head with his bare hands. Those were much better options than the alternative he was hellbent on pursuing. 

What the hell?! How can he be that bi-!!? Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt monstrous hands grip your knees and pull them apart savagely, screaming at the painful ache in your pelvis following the rough motion. He knelt between your spread legs, his large thighs forcing you open and leaving you unable to close your legs.

"W-wait! Wait! Think about what you're doing, please?! It's not possi-?!" 

The blunt head of his cock tapped your entrance, the pearl of precum mixing with your wetness as he tried to nudge his way in. His size proved too much for your smaller frame, his dick sliding up your vulva in a failed attempt to penetrate you. The insistent push of his hips had you holding your breath, body freezing in place when the head of his cock threatened to breach your cunt only to slide along your labia once more. 

The rough motion had you panting, the repeated nudging on your clit causing your pelvis to twitch from the erotic stimulation. You couldn’t stop your body’s reaction to him, a pulsating heat shimmering beneath your skin. Taking a glance down, you shuddered at the sight of his cock sandwiched between your spread lips. It had your feminine channel burning for him despite your fear of him. Shame accompanied your arousal as you felt more of your natural fluids coating the underside of his dick and flowing down your ass in rivulets.

While you lay gasping at the dizzying sensation, you were ignorant to his growing agitation when he missed his mark again. He raised your hips higher, giving himself a better view of your leaking hole before grabbing his wet shaft with one hand and lining himself up once more. This time he was determined to properly defile you.

Your eyes fluttered open when he adjusted you, looking up at him in confusion as you tried to clear your mind. The momentary pleasure he had given you was obliterated in a second when you felt the press of his cock head stab its first inch inside your dripping pussy. 

Like a bucket of cold water hitting your face, you shrieked when the reality of your situation set in. Flinching from his touch, you tried twisting your hips away from him hoping to dislodge the stiff cock from its journey inside you. 

"No! You won't fit!"

Bucking your hips uselessly, you failed to realize that your swirling hips moved pleasantly around the tip, a dribble of cum shooting out of his cock to coat your insides– making you gasp when you felt it and him shudder strongly at the feel of your sweet cunt. Seeing how you were so lubricated for him, he repositioned himself above you, bracing a foot on the floor while keeping the other leg bent at the knee. Grabbing the back of your knees, he pushed them forward near your head, effectively placing you in a mating press of sorts.

Not giving you any time to protest, he thrusted half of himself in one diligent push.

You yelped at the sudden pain, eyes nearly popping out of your face as you felt your pussy stretch beyond its limit. Glimmer of tears rushed to your eyes, the pain making your mouth wobble as he pulled away– the drag of his cock against your inner walls nearly causing you to faint– only to cry out when he thrusted back in with more force. More of his cock violated your sore insides, rendering you a screaming mess as he continued to plunder your wrecked form. Too scared to look at the damage between your legs, you pushed against his firm stomach, pleading for him to stop or he'll kill you. 

A sharp jab into your swollen flesh had you crying out, arching your back as tears trailed down your face. No manner of preparation could’ve made his passage bearable, the stark difference between his gargantuan size and your regular size evident as you struggled to accommodate him.

He took you like a brute. Not caring about your distressed wails.

It hurt.

Maybe the pain was making you delirious, but beneath the agony, there was a thread of pleasure seeping through the cracks. You refused to believe it, the thought of your body betraying you in such a way nearly crumbling you.

…

…

 Then why were your hips moving timidly alongside his?

~

His hands bit into your sides, Pyramid Head lifting your lower body off the floor to smack against him, driving the rest of his cock inside your spasming pussy with a low groan.

It was a tight fit. 

Once the entirety of his throbbing cock was seathed inside your warm heat, he took the time to glance down at you. You were a sweaty mess of blood and tears, pained gasps emerging from your trembling lips as your body twitched uncontrollably from his claiming of you. Your entrance was stretched taut around his engorged cock, the blood smeared on your pelvis making him wonder if it was yours or from him. 

He was immune to your choked sobs, not feeling the least bit remorseful of his violent taking of you. Rather, he was pleased you survived. Many didn’t make it past this stage, but you proved to be a pleasant surprise. 

The snug walls of your cunt suddenly clenched around his dick, nearly making him cum on the spot. 

He pulled his hips back, hissing when your walls clamped down on him, making the task difficult before driving forward with purpose. Before long, your soaked entrance made his movements easier, his dick sliding much faster inside your straining pussy. Pained cries turned into soft mewls, your hips eventually moving in tandem with his with every brush of your clit. 

He paused midthrust to stare at the bulge in your tummy in fascination. It was a ghastly sight– the way your lower belly distended from his cock penetrating you. He pressed on the bump in an inquisitive manner, jolting in shock when your channel clenched around him erratically, a stream of fluid splashing on his lower belly following your loud shriek. 

The shock was momentary, Pyramid Head rubbing your secretion between his fingers to play with the strings. Bringing them beneath the helm of his helmet, he was overtaken with the smell of your lust. Even though you couldn’t meet his gaze, you could feel him staring at you in a hungry manner. He gave you little time to be embarrassed, hunching over you to place your legs above his elbows, spreading you further and spearing into you with brutal thrusts.

He couldn't stop the rapid succession of thrusts, driving into you faster and faster as his release built up with every plunge inside you.

~

You twisted helplessly, opening your mouth to voice out your pleasure as fire spread throughout your body. His fierce pace had you writhing wildly beneath him, shaking your head at the growing tension in your stomach– signaling another approaching orgasm. You didn’t want him to stop. Your womb clenched with every harsh jab of his monstrous dick against it, the pressure escalating with every second of your ruin.

“O-oh! Please, please, please–!!” You sobbed, not knowing if you wanted him to stop his rough onslaught on your poor body or begging for more as his hips collided violently between the juncture of your thighs. The wet slap of skin on skin echoed along the hall, your passionate cries and his low groans forever imprinted on your mind. Your legs grew tired, falling lax on either side of him, unable to keep up with his vigorous pace. 

He used you like nothing more than a cocksleeve, molding the shape of his cock in your tight pussy, his sac slapping lewdly against your ass.

It became too much. 

Your mind went blank when the knot in your belly finally snapped, letting out a scream of completion when intense heat spread throughout your shaking body. Your vaginal walls gripped him tightly, trying to milk him for all his worth, the sudden tightness forcing a growl to emerge from him. Tears escaped you, the painful pleasure driving you mad in his embrace.

White lights danced behind your eyelids, your orgasm turning you into a puddled mess of ecstasy even as he continued to ravage you.

The last thing you felt before closing your eyes in exhaustion was a scorching heat filling your insides, calloused fingers rubbing the bump in your tummy in wonder.

❣️🖤❣️Thank you for reading~! ❣️🖤❣️

I got another treat for my dear followers! You gotta know I'm posting NSFW Art to go with my fics as well~ (*^ ‿ <*)♡

🎃Happy Halloween, you guys! Stay safe out there!🎃

Full NSFW Art here ---> (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)