#but other times it’s like a shot in the dark

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 34 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Maverick makes time to have a conversation with Bradley, but you've already lost faith in him. Your words hurt him more than anything else could. 

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

When the mattress dipped and you felt the bedding shift around your legs, you opened your eyes to find Bradley climbing out of bed. The room was still dark, but his face was illuminated by his phone screen. The baby was thumping against your tender insides, making you wince, and your husband was playing around on his phone in the middle of the night. Or texting someone.

"What are you doing?" you croaked. Bradley's gaze snapped toward your face, and he leaned down to pull the covers to your shoulder.

"Uh, I need to head to base a little early," he whispered, tracing your cheek with his thumb. "To meet with Mav."

"What time is it?" you asked, rolling toward him to see his phone.

"Almost six," he replied, kissing your forehead as he tipped his screen away. "I love you. Try to get some more sleep."

You swallowed hard, rolling away from him as he started pulling his uniform from the closet. The rustle of fabric set your nerves on edge, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he got dressed. Maybe he thought you fell asleep again, because he didn't say another word before he left the room. But you were pretty sure you heard him stop in Rose's nursery before leaving the house.

Now you were wide awake and alone. Your phone told you it was 5:28 which was completely absurd. Neither you nor Bradley ever got to base before 8:00 unless you were working your ass off on a project.

He used Maverick as his excuse which seemed ridiculous. Bradley wasn't in the middle of training for a special mission which would require extra hours before daylight. And he had to know Maverick would only cover for him for so long.

You sat up and laughed miserably. Your husband was lying to you. And you thought you knew what he was lying about. Tears filled your eyes as your hand rested on your belly where your younger daughter was moving around. Why was Bradley doing this to the three of you? 

It wasn't like you couldn't tell how bad you looked at the moment. You knew it. You were bloated and chunky and broken out, but it was at least half his fault you were pregnant again in the first place. And you would make it a priority to get in shape after she was born. You would.

Your fingers were curled around the sheets, trying to keep yourself on your side of the bed, but you crawled toward Bradley's nightstand anyway. The lamp was too bright, taking your eyes a beat to adjust. You yanked the drawer open which offered almost no insight to anything except his Nugget Notebook with the pink and blue striped cover. But then you saw something underneath it.

You grabbed the second notebook, this one bright pink, and pulled it from the drawer. Only the first few pages were covered in his writing, but you soaked the words up greedily.

To my second daughter, you are the third love of my life. I realize that sounds a little unfair, like you're coming in third place, but I promise that's not that case. It's only because I met your mom and your sister first. You're not even here yet, but I already know I love you just as much as I love them. And I can't wait to meet you, too.

Before I get carried away, let me introduce myself. I'm your dad. It's my job to love you and take care of you. I'm not perfect, but I love you so much, I'll always try my best to be here for anything you need. To be honest, I never expected to have a family at all. And to be extra honest, you were a bit of a surprise. But a very good surprise. My favorite kind of surprise. I can't wait to teach you everything I know, which isn't much, but I do know how to love my three girls. 

"How?" you gasped, dropping the notebook back into the drawer. You sobbed into Bradley's pillow, unable to make sense of this. How was the man who wrote notebook passages to his children the same man who was sneaking around behind your back. With Indigo. It simply did not make sense, but both versions of him seemed to exist at the same time. And somehow you were the one who was more at odds with yourself than he was with himself.

You could feel the love he had for his daughters. It was so obvious. He was so good with Rose, and he seemed excited about having two kids.

You weren't sure if you'd be able to kick him out. You didn't know if you could leave him. If push came to shove, you didn't know if you could be that strong. You wished he wasn't making you consider it at all. 

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

"Oh, God."

Bradley was awake as soon as Maverick replied to his text at five in the morning. He'd barely been able to sleep anyway, but when Maverick told Bradley he was heading to Lemoore in a few hours for a meeting, he begged his godfather to meet with him first.

Now Bradley was sitting in his office in a silent building waiting for any help he could get. As far as he had worked out, Indigo had been devouring his extra attention for weeks for a less savory reason than he originally thought. All the times she invited him out for a drink left him shaking his head while he stared at the wedding photo perched in his desk. 

He never tried to hide the fact that he was married. He fucking flaunted it. You were perfect; why wouldn't he? If someone else thought they had a gorgeous wife? Ha, Bradley could lay it down in spades. Someone else claimed their wife was smart? Well, his was a goddamn genius. Someone wanted to brag about their kids? All he had to do was pull up a photo of Rose, and he had everyone around him swooning.

He found it easier to make small talk about his family than anything else these days, and he was sure Indigo knew he was married before he even left Texas to fly back to San Diego. It still seemed unlikely she wanted to sleep with him, but he wasn't going to deny that Nat was usually right about these things.

"Oh, God," Bradley groaned for probably the tenth time since he woke up. He wanted to rewind and go back to Texas and never select Indigo in the first place. 

But would that have been fair? To leave her behind when she was the best? When she was clearly one of the pilots who should be moving forward with new programs? It wasn't like she ever touched him. Other than persistently inviting him for drinks and showing up for all of his office hours, she never made an advance. But now he was uncomfortable. There was something about the way she always looked at him that.....yeah, Nat was right.

But if Bradley couldn't handle his first assignment in his new position, how was he supposed to prove he could do this going forward?

There was a knock on his already open door, and Maverick stood there looking perplexed. "Bradley? What did you need that couldn't wait until later this week?"

Bradley groaned again as he stood. "Can you shut the door?"

"Sure."

Maverick let it slip from his fingers, and Bradley waited until the echo of the door closing gave way to silence. He could feel his godfather's gaze on his face as his eyes closed. He swallowed hard, not wanting to waste the other man's time, but now that he was here, he felt so stupid. 

"I need your help," Bradley rasped, voice hoarse as his eyes opened. "It's work related."

"Okay," Maverick replied, voice between a statement and a question. "What can I do?"

Bradley's fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he looked down at his phone sitting there. "Uh...Mav, this is embarrassing."

When Maverick took a step closer, he reached across the desk to cuff Bradley on the shoulder. "Just hit me with it."

Bradley took a long breath and let it out slowly. "There's another officer who... well, it's been brought to my attention that she..." He let go of his desk and rubbed his fingertips against his eyes. "There's a chance my wife thinks something's going on between me and another officer on base. One who reports to me."

Maverick's expression gave nothing away, but he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before taking a step away from Bradley. "To be clear, Bradley, are you asking me to help you hide an indiscretion from your wife?"

Bradley's head tilted slightly. "Huh?" he grunted, thoughts already swirling around his mind so rapidly, it took him a few seconds to catch up. "What the fuck, Mav? No!" he gasped. "An indiscretion?" He could barely even say the word as he shook his head. "No. God, no! Nothing happened! Nothing is ever going to happen!"

He realized he was shouting when Maverick's hands flew into the air in surrender. "Okay. Alright. I hear you loud and clear. I just needed to be sure I understand what we're dealing with here. Why don't you have a seat and explain everything to me?"

Bradley was raking his fingers through his hair as he dropped down into his chair. "It's Lieutenant Jeffries. Indigo." Her intense blue eyes filled his mind as he shook his head. "Phoenix and Hangman pointed out that she..." He paused and glanced at the ceiling. "This is so embarrassing, Mav, but they said it seems like she wants to sleep with me."

"Hmm."

When Maverick hummed and went silent, Bradley said, "I know how ridiculous it sounds."

"It doesn't," his godfather replied immediately. "This sort of thing happens sometimes. You said nothing happened? You should keep your distance moving forward, and if she contacts you outside of work or does anything inappropriate, we can write it up."

Bradley groaned miserably, unlocked his phone, and pushed it across the desk with his messages open. "She did text me outside of work."

While Maverick reached for the phone, he said, "Did you give her your number?"

"No. Why would I do that?" he replied. "But honestly, it's not hard to get access to that kind of information. I didn't think much of it the first time."

Maverick shrugged. "Well, what did she text-" His eyes grew wide when he looked down at the phone, his cheeks turning pink as he was surely looking at the photo that had been in Bradley's messages for less than twelve hours.

"Yeah," Bradley croaked. "She sent that last night."

"But she texted you before that. When you never explicitly gave her your number." Maverick looked up at him, shaking his head. "Bradley, what were you thinking? She seems to have some sort of agenda. You should have come to me immediately after the first message."

Bradley stood, stomach lurching. His marriage, career, and reputation were somehow all on the line, and he hadn't even done anything. He couldn't help but think of his parents and the fact that his dad probably never put his mom through this kind of shit when she was seven months postpartum.

"An agenda?" Bradley whispered. "Shit, Mav. This is the kind of thing that happens on carriers. Not on base. I thought this was something men did way more than women when they wanted to cheat."

Maverick handed his phone back across the desk with the photo of Indigo open. Bradley swiped out of the text thread immediately, sick to his stomach. 

"You work in a high stakes field where women routinely outperform men. They are capable of anything you are."

"I know that!" Bradley snapped. "But I'm married! I'm not looking for that shit. I never let on that I was."

"Oh, you sweet summer child," Maverick sighed, checking his watch. "Literally," he added as he dug his own phone from his pocket. "If Lieutenant Jeffries is sending you photos and playing coy, she doesn't care about your wife."

Bradley winced. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Maverick grunted, taking a few steps toward the door. "And your wife is pregnant and vulnerable, and now I'm going to have to tell Admiral Simpson that I'll be late getting to Lemoore. Follow me. And bring your phone."

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

Bradley was late getting home. This was happening almost every night now, and you were hanging on by a thread as Rose screamed in your arms. She was fed, but she always seemed to prefer the way Bradley burped her over your technique.

"He's not here," you said through gritted teeth. "I don't know where he is or when he'll be back. I just need you to burp so you can go to sleep."

Your texts had gone unanswered. You weren't sure if Bradley had been in the cafeteria at lunchtime, because you hid in your office. Dinnertime had come and gone, and his cold plate of food was currently sitting on the kitchen counter.

"I don't know where he is," you repeated to your daughter while her younger sister did somersaults against your bladder. Rose's sobs finally started to taper off as you rubbed your hand firmly against her back. She finally burped, and that seemed to do the trick. Her fists curled up next to her face as she yawned. You barely had enough time to change her into a clean diaper and pajamas before her eyes were closed.

You were mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. You stood in her nursery, watching her sleep while you decided you needed to say something to your husband tonight. There was no way you could keep punishing yourself for not being enough. If he wanted someone else, you deserved to have him say it to your face.

But when you heard him open the front door thirty minutes later, your heart lurched into your stomach at the sight of him. You'd known how handsome he was since the day you met him, and he only seemed to get better looking with age. Each year added more silver to his hair and laugh lines to his face, but he was undeniably sexy.

Today, however, he looked exhausted, and your brain went wild with awful ideas. What had he gotten up to? Why was he so late? The top buttons of his uniform were undone, and his hair was mussed. He was staring down at his phone in his hand while you stood silently at the end of the hallway, terrified of what he was looking at.

Suddenly everything you'd been holding inside for weeks was bubbling up to the surface, and you were done holding it back. You cleared your throat, and his gaze snapped up to your face, phone hanging in his hand by his side.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Is Rosie already asleep?"

You nodded, taking each step slowly until you were standing right in front of him. When he reached for you, his fingers skimmed your shoulder before you pushed his hand away. Those beautiful, brown eyes you loved so much went wide, but he didn't look surprised. Not at all.

"Why are you so late?" you snapped. "And don't feed me some bullshit about office hours, because I know your schedule. Or, at least, I know what they are supposed to be."

Bradley licked his lips, gesturing between the two of you with his phone. "I had to take care of something important with Maverick."

You wanted to laugh in his face. "You're really going to use the same excuse as this morning? Another meeting with Maverick? What, one was at the crack of dawn and the other was after dinnertime? I've been texting you for hours, Bradley."

You watched his Adam's apple bob. "I didn't have my phone with me for part of the day."

"You have it now!" you laughed sardonically, pointing at his hand just in time to see his phone light up. 

It was her. You saw her name there. Indigo. She was texting your husband well after work hours, and you could already feel the tears stinging your eyes.

You grabbed his phone before he seemed to realize what was happening. Your fingers shook as you entered his passcode to find it was still your birthday. He wasn't even trying to hide this from you. He wasn't trying to take his phone back. As you braced yourself for what you were about to see, you whispered, "What the fuck is going on with her?"

His brown eyes were so sincere, and once again, you couldn't understand how this was the same man who wrote journals for his unborn children. "Nothing," he replied, voice taking on a tone of defeated exhaustion. "There's nothing going on."

Your eyes dipped down to his phone to find not one, but two flirtatious selfies. One new one, and one that was sent last night while he was working out in the garage. Indigo's eyes stared back at you from the screen, mocking you, making a fool of your family.

You were crying. You didn't want Bradley to see you cry right now, but you couldn't stop. "This doesn't look like nothing. And you didn't tell her to stop."

Now he looked panicked, eyes wide as he saw the photo on his phone in your hand. "Okay, I know this looks bad, but I reported it, I swear! I've never been alone with her behind closed doors. You can call Mav!"

Violent sobs shook your body, and when Bradley slowly let his hand settle on your arm, you shook him free. "You expect me to believe nothing is going on? When you get home late every day? When she told me that it's no wonder you prefer her since I let myself go?" you gasped, swiping at your tears.

"What?" Bradley barked as you blindly handed his offending phone back to him. "She said that to you?"

You nodded miserably, taking a step away from him. "I don't want to know if you said that to her, or if she formed her own opinion after spending time with you. And I don't want to know if you're fucking her or just considering it. But I want you out of the house."

Bradley looked like you just slapped him. His mouth was hanging open, brow creased while you sobbed. "You want me out?" he whispered, hand going up to rake his fingers through his hair.

"Yes," you squeaked, trying to stay strong not just for yourself, but for your daughters as well. Every word hurt as you forced them out of your mouth, but you had to say them. "Go. Until I can talk to my parents about canceling the sale of their house. I'll transfer to Annapolis. Take the girls with me."

Bradley closed the distance to you, tears already pooling in his eyes as he dropped to his knees. His lips found your belly, and you sobbed harder as he wrapped his hands around your hips. "No. You can't," he said so softly, you could barely hear him. When he looked up at your face, you almost believed he would never be capable of hurting you. "Baby Girl, you can't leave me. I need you. I need my girls."

When you stepped out of his grasp, his arms fell limply to his sides. You'd never seen him look so miserable before, and you had to stand firm instead of reaching for his hands.

"Find somewhere else to sleep."

The implications of your own words stung your heart, and you had to watch him slowly get to his feet. He kissed your forehead, and your eyes blurred with fresh tears when he went down the hallway to Rose's room. Less than a minute passed, but each second felt like a day. You had plenty of time to tell him the truth. That you didn't want him to leave. That you couldn't blame him for wanting someone else, and you still needed him as much as he said he needed you.

When he reappeared, you pressed your lips together even as he kissed your damp cheek. "I love you," he rasped. "I'm never going to stop loving you. I'll figure out some way to make you believe me."

You watched him retreat to the front door with his keys, shoulders sagging as he gave you one last lingering look before slipping out into the darkness.

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

Ouch. Ouch. Okay. I want BG to believe Roo beyond any doubt, and I think I know how to make that happen. Please stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[covenofagatha]

Hey! I would love to give you an idea of your next fic!

How about G!p!Director!Agatha asks Actress!R if they can make a sex tape, so she won't be lonely that much when R is away for work(They're married). Turns out she feels even more lonely and hornier when R is away. She's going crazy when she sees her cum leaking out of R in the video. She's been sending R videos of her fucking fleshlight and express how much she needs R. And when R gets back home, they fuck like a horny teen. (Breeding would be perfect for this🤩🤩)

Thank you so much!! I love all your fics!!!🩷

Ohhh 🫠🥵 writing this one killed me in the best possible way

Baby, you're a star

Word count: 8.3k

Warnings: mommy kink, filming, GP Agatha, sex toys, breeding kink, masturbation, blowjobs, sex, oral sex, fingering, minor spanking, so much filth, porn with very little plot, I have never written this much smut in a single post

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly

You’re running, running from something, and it’s closing in on you. Looking back over your shoulder, a terrified look on your face, you trip and end up sprawling onto the ground. 

It’s about to get you. Your eyes widen in fear, a loud sound coming from the distance —

“And…cut! That’s a wrap!” With the shout from your director, your character of Samantha Wren, a girl haunted by a dark creature from her past that finally catches up to her, melts away and you push yourself off the set floor, brushing your hands on your torn pants. 

The scene you just shot is the cliffhanger ending to the film, The Figure in the Walls, where Samantha is sprinting through the woods after realizing what the monster is, trying to get away. It’s unclear if she does, which leaves some room for a sequel. 

The movie’s director, Agatha Harkness, steps out from behind the cameras and slow-claps, smirking at you. You make a beeline for her and she wraps an arm around your shoulders and steers you away from the set. A PA jogs over and hands you a cup of coffee and a bagel. You’ve been filming for the past five hours, doing scenes from earlier that weren’t as good and finishing up the movie sequence, and you’re starving. 

“You did so good, honey,” Agatha murmurs into your ear and presses a quick kiss to your temple. 

It’s not a secret on set that the two of you are married, you both just prefer to keep it professional for the most part, at least when other people can see you. 

You first met Agatha at the Golden Globes about two and a half years ago. You had never met, but were both nominated for separate projects: you for Best Supporting Actress in a Comedy, and her for Best Director. A mutual friend had introduced you to her during a commercial break, and you hit it off instantly. 

There was almost something magnetic between you, and it just kept pulling you to her all night long. You won for your category, and so did she, and the picture of you two with your Globes is framed above the fireplace mantle in your mansion. 

You’re beaming at the camera while Agatha is staring down your dress, trying to look inconspicuous. When you tease her about it, she says she was just looking at the trophy. 

It’s unclear if she means the Globe, or you. 

She had invited you to go to an afterparty with her and you had immediately agreed. It was a quiet, intimate sort of thing with an open bar, and she had brazenly flirted while the warmth from the alcohol settled pleasantly in your stomach. 

After a few hours and after you had been practically sitting in her lap for quite some time, she said that she should get going, but asked for your number. 

You had clasped her cheeks and pulled her into a hot kiss right there and promptly dragged her out the door into your car and back to your apartment. 

A year and a half later, she asked you to marry her as you were walking along the Santa Monica Pier. The sun was setting, purples and pinks reflecting off the ocean waves, and you had never felt so happy in your entire life. You bought a mansion in Beverly Hills together, and you’ve lived there ever since. 

When Agatha first signed onto direct The Figure in the Walls, your name had been already thrown around as for who would play the lead. You still don’t know if she pulled some strings, and there was obviously gossip that you had only gotten the role because your wife was directing, but Agatha assured you that once everyone saw your performance, there would be no doubt that you had earned every part of it. 

“Thank you,” you whisper to your wife. You can’t believe the movie is finally done, but your turn-around is quick. Tomorrow, you fly out to meet with an agent in New York about a new film franchise in the works. If you land the lead role, it would be absolutely huge for your career. 

You will be gone for a week, though, and you and Agatha have been looking forward to some time for just yourselves. You’re eager to get home and at least have tonight, but with the wrap party and the closing speeches, it’s going to be awhile before you’re able to. 

Some of the other cast members come over and mingle while you sip on a soda, but you can feel Agatha’s eyes on you the whole time. At one point, you give in and glance over to where she’s sitting — all alone in her director’s chair for some reason, but she’s facing you. 

She uncrosses her legs and slouches back, casually putting a hand on her right upper thigh. Agatha ever so slightly spreads the fabric of her dark gray pants and you can see — she’s half-hard. Just from watching you, just from the thought of finally getting some quality time. You’ve made it work with the busy schedule, always finding a half hour for a quick fuck every now and then, but it’s been too long since you’ve been able to take your time. There’s the unspoken promise that neither of you will be sleeping much tonight. 

Swallowing roughly and trying to fight back the heat creeping into your cheeks, you turn back to your co-stars and try to look like you’re listening. 

And then finally everyone starts to leave. With Agatha being the director, she waits until every single member of the cast and crew has gone while you sit and impatiently tap your foot. 

“You ready?” Agatha asks and you jump out of your seat, eagerly nodding, and she laughs. “Looking forward to something?” 

“I can’t wait for you to fuck me, mommy,” you answer matter-of-factly and it catches her off-guard for the slightest second. 

It’s not often you’re this bold and straight-forward without her prompting. And she fucking loves it. 

The car is already waiting outside — you called it while you were waiting for everyone to leave — and the air between the two of you crackles with electricity. The tension is thick, but neither of you move to disturb it, instead just choosing to let it build until you’re in the sanctity of your home. 

But your breathing quickens and you can feel your underwear getting gradually wetter, the anticipation steadily rising. When you look over at your wife, you can see her fully-hardened cock straining against the fabric of her tailored pants and her long fingers are digging into her thighs, making her veins pop. 

It’s about twenty minutes later of lingering looks between darkened eyes when the car pulls into the driveway of your house. 

Agatha barely thanks the driver before you’re both scrambling out of the car and up to your front door. 

The moment it’s closed, you’re shoved against the pillar next to it, Agatha’s mouth on yours in a bruising kiss. 

“Fuck,” you moan, her tongue hotly licking against yours. She grunts in agreement before grabbing your wrists and holding them over your head, thrusting her right leg between yours. You can feel her cock, can feel the heat radiating off it, and you throb against it and swiftly grind down. 

She groans into your mouth and angles her leg up higher and you can feel her dick pulse, which makes the ache inside you grow unbearable. Your kiss has become sloppy, a flurry of teeth and lips and tongue, and she pulls back to trail her mouth down your neck. You hiss when she sucks a bite and it makes your hips jerk involuntarily. 

“Agatha — mommy, please,” you whimper, your cunt absolutely dripping. All of your thoughts are being consumed by her right now, and you just need more. You need her fingers, her mouth, her cock inside you, you need her. 

Agatha chuckles breathlessly, planting an open-mouth kiss on your lips. “What do you need, honey?” 

It’s almost frustrating that she’s making you say it, like it isn’t the most obvious thing in the world how desperate you are for her. “Can we — upstairs?” Your head is spinning and it feels like you’re drunk with need. 

If it were any other time, she would make you repeat it and ask clearly. But she knows, she always knows, and there’s no time to waste. 

She lets go of one of your wrists but pulls you by the other to the staircase and then stops on the third stair to kiss you again, like she can’t possibly wait. She sucks on your tongue and you gasp. 

“Fuck, mommy’s going to miss you tomorrow,” she mutters and in the haze in your head, you feel a slight pang of sadness. Agatha would’ve come with you, but she has a meeting here that she can’t miss either. It’s tough to be apart, even for just a week. 

But then the sentimental moment is gone and her teeth sink into your bottom lip, her hand coming up to rest around your throat. She barely even squeezes but it does wonders — you clench around nothing, eyes glazing over, and you let out a strangled gasp. 

Agatha smirks and tugs you the rest of the way to your bedroom. Shoes are kicked off and she quickly helps you take off the shirt and pants you changed into after filming and then you rip open the silk button-down shirt she’s wearing, sending buttons flying everywhere. She pushes down her pants and underwear and a ragged gasp tears itself out of your mouth when you see her cock, hard and red and leaking. 

You let out a small moan and move closer to touch it, but she stops you. 

“Honey,” she says, a bit timidly, and concern washes over you like a bucket of cold water. 

“What’s wrong, is everything okay?” you ask. She looks around, biting her lip like she’s not sure how to phrase it. “Hey, whatever it is, you can tell me. Is it something bad?” 

Agatha shakes her head. “No, it’s just something I was thinking of. Something I wanted to see if you’d want to try, just because you’re going to be away for a bit.” A flash of heat bursts through you — usually you’re the one who brings up wanting to try new things in the bedroom, but now that it’s Agatha, fuck, you can’t wait. 

“Yeah?” you breathe. 

“I was wondering if you’d let me film you — us. While we have sex,” she says and your cunt throbs. You’d never thought of it, but you can see it in your mind now. You can imagine how hot it would be to watch yourself take her cock. “So when you’re gone and I get lonely, I can watch it back and remember what a good girl you are for me.”

The praise settles right into your stomach and now you can’t stop thinking about Agatha stroking her cock while watching the two of you have sex. 

“You want to, what, direct me in a porno?” you ask, partly as a joke, but there’s no missing the involuntary sound that slips out of her lips, no missing the darkening of her already hungry eyes. “Fuck. Okay.” 

She looks a little surprised at your easy agreement, but presses a chaste kiss to your lips, and then another one, and then leaves the room. You sit down on your bed, the excitement almost overwhelming, and try to slow your racing heart. 

It’s only a minute before Agatha comes back, holding the iPad that she uses for work sometimes, and a stand for it. Has she been preparing for this? The thought sears through your veins and you feel yourself getting even more wetter. 

Her cock seems to get harder if possible as she sets it up close to the bed and the moment she nods and steps back, you feel a new-found sense of confidence wash over you. 

You’ve always come alive in front of the cameras, you thrive under being watched, and it feels no different now, even if you’re not becoming a character. 

It’s exhilarating. And you’re going to do your best to put on a show. 

“Move to the center of the bed,” Agatha orders, still watching through the screen. You swallow roughly and obey — you’ve always found it incredibly sexy watching her command a scene with just her words, and now that she’s doing it in this context? 

Fuck. 

You lean back against the pillows and look at her, awaiting her next instruction. Agatha nods and her eyes rake over you appreciatively. “Spread your legs and touch yourself over your underwear.” 

Moaning softly, you widen your legs and plant your feet flat on the bed so your knees are bent. And then you cup your pussy and your lips part involuntarily when you feel how wet you are. The fabric is absolutely drenched and you can see from the look on Agatha’s face that she can tell too. 

You slowly start to trace the outline of your pussy lips through your panties, up and down over your slit, and then when you circle over your clit finally, your back arches off the bed and you sigh heavily. The pleasure is so much more acute now — is it because of the camera? Because you know that Agatha is going to fuck herself later to this?

“There you go, honey,” your wife says approvingly. There’s a wild look in her eyes and her hands are twitching like she’s dying to touch her cock. The tip is even more red now, and you can see beads of liquid collecting and dripping onto the floor. Your hips jolt when you press down harder on your clit. “Take your underwear off and tease your entrance — but don’t go inside just yet.” 

You have to peel your panties off your sopping wet pussy and you teasingly toss them over to her. She catches them and lets out a surprised groan when she actually feels them. 

And then she lifts them to her nose and breathes in the scent of your wetness and your clit pulses. You try to focus on her instructions and glide a finger through your folds, molten hot and dripping. You dip into your pussy and then withdraw. You repeat and whimper at how good you know it’s going to feel when she finally lets you fuck yourself. 

“Slide one finger in slowly,” she demands and your head drops back as you do, the stretch nowhere near enough but still feeling delicious. Your walls immediately clench down around it and you moan. 

When you look back at Agatha, your hips roll of their own accord — she’s started stroking her cock with your underwear. You can see how she’s glistening with your wetness and she thrusts every few times like she can’t control it. 

“Mommy, can you…” Pleasure swims in your mind when you curl your finger and it interrupts your thoughts for a second. “Want you to be in the video, too.” You want to watch it back and see her as well.

Agatha inhales sharply. “Yeah, okay, babygirl. Whatever you want.” And then she steps around the iPad and comes into view of the shot, standing near the side of the bed so you can see each other more clearly. 

Her cock bobs up and down and you time your thrusts inside you with each of her strokes so you can imagine it’s her inside you. 

“Put another finger in,” she rasps and starts to speed up, your underwear moving frictionlessly over her with how wet it is. 

The addition of a second finger makes you groan loudly and you can’t even tell if you’re trying to show off for the camera or not. Everything is so much more heightened now. 

She makes you fuck yourself like that for about ten minutes, every now and then telling you to fuck yourself faster, babygirl and slow down, sweetheart and fuck, honey, you look so fucking hot for mommy. 

You’re a complete mess now, absolutely ruined and babbling incoherently, soaking the sheets beneath you. Your orgasm has been steadily building this whole time and you know it won’t be much longer before you cum. 

Agatha is also close by the looks of it; she’s completely flushed, her chest and neck tinted the prettiest pink, and her cock is leaking even more, her hips moving more sporadically. The ache inside you isn’t going away — it’s only getting worse the more you look at her. 

“Mommy,” you whine, needing to feel your wife on you more than anything. “Please, please fuck me.” 

“I know, baby,” she pants. “Just a second, let mommy move the camera.” And god, it makes you throb when she grabs the stand and angles it perpendicularly to the bed. 

And then she climbs on the bed and situates herself between your open legs and leans over you so she can drag her cock through your soaked folds. The gasp she lets out drives you crazy and you keen when she rubs her tip against your clit. 

“Beg for mommy,” she says, hair falling down over her face as she bites her lip. She positions herself right at your opening. 

“I need you so bad, please fill me up, please fuck me, I need you so bad, mommy —” She pushes into you in one motion and your mouth drops open. Your walls immediately clamp down around her and she groans at the feeling. 

It’s exactly what you need and when she starts to move, soft sounds fall from your lips with every thrust. 

She twitches inside you when you pull her down for a quick kiss. “God, I can’t wait to watch this,” she grunts and it makes you clench. Her hips stutter. “You’re so good, such a good slut for me. Taking my cock like a superstar. Fuck, honey, I’m going to watch the video everyday, gonna figure out how to make it my home screen.” 

The thought of Agatha opening up her phone to immediately see you being fucked by her makes you moan gutteraly and she huffs out a laugh. “Mommy, please.” 

“Fuck, baby, you really like this, don’t you?” You nod your head quickly under her and her cock throbs inside you. You’re so fucking close. She feels so good inside you, her cock dragging deliciously against your walls, and hitting that spot inside you that she always does. 

Pleasure is rolling over your body in waves and you lift your hips to meet each of her thrusts. It’s never been this intense before and you can’t believe you never thought to try filming sex before. 

Agatha’s rhythm starts to falter inside you, she’s cursing, short of breath. She reaches between you to rub at your clit with two fingers and it makes you sob with how good it feels. 

“Agatha, I’m so close,” you whine, beg. She ruts into you urgently, like she’s about to cum but needs to make sure you get there too, and she scrapes her teeth against your collarbone with a sharp thrust and presses on your clit and you explode, your orgasm tearing through your body and absolutely blowing your mind. 

Your walls convulse around her and she stiffens, her breathing tightening, and then she lets out a long moan and you feel her pulse before her seed spreads through your cunt. You gasp at the warmth and Agatha collapses on top of you. 

She lays there until she starts to soften before pulling out. Her cum starts to trickle out of your swollen pussy and you grind against nothing at the sensation but Agatha quickly jumps off the bed and grabs the iPad off the camera. 

You gasp when you figure out what she’s doing — Agatha holds your legs open and holds the camera down close to your pussy. 

“Spread your folds,” she directs, but without any of the authority she usually has. You reach down and do as she asks, more of her cum oozing out as you do. She swears under your breath. “Make yourself messy.” 

You know what she means. You collect the wetness between your legs, both hers and your own, and start to stroke it all over your cunt. 

“Fuck, honey, just like that,” she says and you rub your clit again, your body jerking under your own touch. “Clean your fingers.” 

And then she lifts the camera to film you sucking your two cum-covered fingers into your mouth. You moan at the taste of both of you and Agatha looks like she might ravish you all over again. 

The iPad gets tossed somewhere else on the bed and she leans over to kiss you before crawling down your body and cleans out her cum from inside you with her tongue.

Agatha doesn’t stop until she’s made you cum three more times. 

When you wake up in the morning, there’s a pleasant soreness in between your legs and the sheets are still slightly damp. Light has started to stream in through the curtains on the large windows and you roll onto your side to find that it’s 8 am. 

You have to be at the airport in an hour. 

“Fuck,” you curse and jump out of bed, rushing around to get dressed and throw some clothes into a suitcase. With the end of the film, you haven’t had much time to get ready for this trip, and you are sorely regretting it now. 

Agatha stirs while you’re trying to find the black dress for the cocktail party you have to go to in New York and mumbles something. You pause and wait for her to repeat herself. “Why don’t you come back to bed?” she asks suggestively, picking her head up to watch you. 

“Babe, I have to be at the airport in an hour,” you say apologetically. “How do you still have energy after last night?” 

Agatha chuckles and gets out of bed, coming over to wrap her arms around your shoulders from behind. You can feel her semi-erection through your suit pants. “I just always want to fuck you,” she murmurs into your ear and you debate whether or not you have enough time. 

In the end, logic wins and you twist in her arms to give her a quick peck on the lips. “I’m sorry. When I get back I’ll make it up to you. Plus,” you say, eyebrows raising mischievously, “you have that video from last night.” The memory of making it heats through you — Agatha directing you on how to touch yourself. 

You will definitely need to revisit that in the future. 

But it does very little to quell Agatha’s lust and she grumbles as she goes to get dressed. “Maybe, when you get back, I’ll make you cockwarm me while we watch our little home movie and if you make one move, I won’t let you cum for a week.” 

The idea runs straight through you right into your cunt and you seriously debate saying fuck it to New York entirely. 

But an hour later, Agatha’s pulling up to the airport to drop you off and giving you a tight hug while she whispers in her ear how much she loves you. 

You miss her the second you walk into the terminal, but you try to focus on preparing for your trip. There’s a few dinners, meetings, and parties that you’re expected to attend, just to get to know the right people for the next project that you could potentially be in. You know the other actresses being considered will also be there, so you need to be on your A-game. 

And you’re able to focus for the entire plane ride, memorizing parts of the script they gave you, and when you land, you pull out your phone to text Agatha that you made it, only to find that she’s already messaged you a few times. 

I miss you already, honey. 

Hope you have a great time in NY! I know they’ll love you. 

I wish I didn’t have to be here for this stupid meeting. I’d have loved to be there with you. 

The first ones make you smile at how sweet your wife can be. But then the next couple are enough to reignite the fire in your stomach from earlier. 

I miss your pussy, babygirl. 

Can’t wait for you to come home so I can taste you. 

Fuck, baby, mommy is so hard for you. 

You’re too caught up in the messages to realize that your row is moving and the person in the middle seat taps your shoulder to get your attention. You startle and mutter an apology, hoping he didn’t accidentally see anything she sent you. 

As you’re getting checked into the hotel, you get another text from your wife and the second you open it, you have to slam your phone down on the receptionist’s desk. She gives you a weird look but you pretend not to see it. 

Watching the video — mommy loves watching her cum drip out of you. Fuck, honey. I’m going crazy. 

Your heart is pounding, blood rushing to your cheeks, and you quickly take your room key and hurry up to the room. You press the call button and put your phone on speaker so you can start unpacking. 

Agatha answers immediately. “Hey, sweetheart,” she says, the most casual you’ve ever heard, and you clench your jaw. 

“Agatha, what are you doing? I haven’t even been gone six hours. You’re going to kill the both of us!” 

Her low chuckle makes you squeeze your legs together involuntarily. “I’m actually all right, baby. Remember that fleshlight you got me as a gag gift last Christmas?” 

Fuck. “Agatha,” you say warningly. You have to be at a steakhouse in about thirty minutes — you don’t have time for her to get you all worked up. You were so distracted this morning you didn’t even bring any of your toys with you either. 

“Of course it’s not as good as the real thing,” she sighs, and you can hear a soft slapping noise on the other side. You feel dizzy with heat. 

“Are you…” you trail off, not even sure you could say the rest out loud. Could you pretend to be sick tonight? 

Agatha lets out a little moan and you’re sure it must be for show, just to rub it in. “Fucking this toy and pretending it’s your pussy?”

You can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips and you have to sit down on the bed. “Fuck, mommy,” you whine and she laughs cruelly. 

“Don’t you have that dinner to get ready for?” she asks and with a sinking feeling in your stomach, you know what’s going to happen. You hum, almost wishing you would’ve lied. Agatha grunts, the slapping sound speeding up, and you have to close your eyes. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Love you.” 

She hangs up before you can protest and you’re forced to get into the shower, the heat in your stomach burning more than the water, and your hand makes its way between your legs to furiously rub your clit. 

You cum in about three minutes. 

You can barely focus at dinner with the thought of her using a fleshlight, one that you got her as a joke nonetheless. Her hard thrusts into the toy, picturing your mouth or pussy. 

When you finally get back to the hotel, you’re absolutely exhausted. The travel, being teased by Agatha, and now that dinner where you had to pretend like your body wasn’t screaming for you to get on a plane and go home to your wife wiped you out, and you barely press send on a goodnight text to her before you’re passed out. 

The next few days pass in a blur with events jam-packed into your schedule and you hardly have any time to talk to Agatha. She’s good for the most part, with the occasional dirty text every now and then. 

But on your second-to-last day in New York, she starts to play a different game. 

You’re sightseeing, checking out the American Museum of Natural History, when your phone buzzes. It’s a video from Agatha. 

You don’t really think much and you click on it and your jaw drops as your entire body freezes. 

It starts out shaky and it takes a few moments for it to focus, Agatha clearly in the middle of something. And then it points down and you see Agatha fucking the fleshlight. 

Turn your phone off your brain screams. But it’s as if you’re stuck, your eyes glued to the screen to watch her thrust over and over into the silicone toy. She’s holding it with her left hand, her phone in her right, and her hips are driving her cock into the fake pussy hard. You can almost feel her cock inside you, as if the toy and you are connected. 

She’s going faster and you wish more than anything you weren’t out in public so you could turn up the volume and hear her moaning, hear if she’s saying anything. It cuts off right as she’s about to cum. You have no doubt that you will be very busy with the video once you get back to your room. 

And by the time you get back to the hotel, she’s sent you another one. Luckily, you don’t have anything for two hours, so you’re free to do whatever you want. 

You’re almost afraid to click on it, and you shimmy off your jeans and underwear preemptively. You’ve been worked up for so long and you’ve barely had a chance to touch yourself and you breathe a sigh of relief when your fingers press against your clit. 

Clicking on the new video, your pussy spasms when you realize what you’re watching. 

Agatha has the iPad set up on the table, the video of you two open and playing. It’s strange to see your own face contorted with pleasure on film while Agatha tells you how to touch yourself. 

And then in the lower half of the video she just sent is her, thrusting into the fleshlight again. 

“Fuck,” you whisper. She’s fucking the toy while watching you fuck yourself. You turn the volume all the way up so you don’t miss anything and her little grunts with each drive only turn you on more. 

Your wetness makes a squelching sound when you drag your fingers up and down through your folds and when you come back up to circle at your clit, there’s almost no friction. 

“God, babygirl, mommy can’t wait for you to come back,” Agatha groans and it makes your heart skip a beat. On the iPad, Agatha has slid her cock into you and you’re in awe at how hot it is watching yourself get fucked. 

It becomes quite clear to you that Agatha’s idea of having you cockwarm her while watching this video would not bode well for you. There is absolutely no way you’d be able to stay still, as evidenced by your squirming hips grinding against your hand right now. 

Agatha takes her cock out of the fleshlight, puts it down, and strokes her hand quickly over it and a flash of heat bolts through you when you see it glistening. And then she places the toy on the table and teases her tip against the opening, sliding it up and down, you keen and your back arches off the bed. 

All you’re doing is touching your clit a little. 

On the iPad, Agatha’s speeding up and you’re whimpering underneath her. In the video you just got, she starts to slowly push her cock back into the fleshlight. 

In your hotel room, you shove two fingers inside you, moaning at the stretch, and begin to thrust in time with Agatha, who is thrusting in time with the video you made. 

“Fuck, honey, I need your pussy,” she babbles and you curl your fingers just right, a moan slipping out of your mouth. “Can’t wait to fuck you when you come back, can’t wait to fill you up.” 

Her thrusts are becoming shallower into the toy, her sounds getting louder, and you’re right there with her. 

You’re determined not to cum before she does, even though it’s a video and you could speed it up to cum with her. But you don’t want to miss a thing. 

Turns out, you don’t have to wait too long, because when Agatha on the iPad moves the camera close to your pussy after she came inside you, her cum gushing out of you, that’s it for your wife. 

“You feel so good,” Agatha says on the video before letting out a long moan and thrusting roughly one more time into the fleshlight. She stiffens and grunts and then pulls her cock out and lowers her phone so you can see her cum still spurting out onto the lips of the fleshlight. 

That makes you cum almost immediately and you clamp a hand over your mouth so you don’t get any neighbors in the hotel wondering what you’re up to. 

The video ends shortly after that and leaves you gasping for breath on the bed. You type out a quick Can’t wait to get home tomorrow and hit send. Thankfully, your plane leaves in the morning so you’ll be home soon.

Agatha immediately sends you back a wink emoji and then an eggplant emoji, making you laugh. 

After the last dinner, you watch the video again and make yourself cum two more times. 

It’s been the longest week of your life, and when the agent for the franchise drops you off at the airport, you barely remember to shake her hand. 

“We’ll be in touch,” she says. “But between you and me, I think you have a very good shot of getting this part.” 

Even through the horny fog in your mind, you realize just how big of a deal this is and you can’t wait to tell Agatha. 

You call her while you’re waiting to board and tell her. 

“Honey, that is amazing,” she gushes and your heart swells. Agatha has been your number one cheerleader since you met. 

“You know I’d be spending a lot of time in New York. If you could barely last a week, imagine how hard that would be,” you joke. 

Agatha snorts. “I’d come visit you all the time. Or I’ll just quit my job and become your trophy wife.” 

The thought of the legendary director quitting her job for anyone makes you laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Got to get on the plane, Mrs. Harkness. I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

“I can’t wait, baby,” she says, her voice dropping an octave and making your stomach warm. 

The entire plane ride, you can’t stop thinking about Agatha — about her hands, her mouth, her legs, her cock. 

Would anyone notice if you pulled up that video again? Maybe you could go to the bathroom. With how you’re feeling right now, you wouldn’t need more than a few minutes. 

And it only gets worse when you finally land and a car is already waiting for you to take you back. Excitement vibrates under your skin as you get closer to your house and you have to fan yourself to calm down. You can already feel your underwear sticking to you uncomfortably — lacy purple lingerie you brought on the trip just so you could wear it home. 

When the car pulls into your driveway, you tip the driver and try to walk up to the door as slowly as possible, not wanting to seem too urgent. 

The front door opens right when you get there and your wife is standing there, two glasses of red wine in her hand, casual pants and a tank top on, hair in a loose ponytail. You’re not sure she’s ever looked so hot. 

“Hi,” you breathe, shutting the door behind you and leaning in for a quick kiss. Agatha deepens it and presses a glass into your hand and you take a long gulp. 

“How was the flight?” she asks, sipping on her own wine. You drop the suitcase in the foyer and walk into your living room before plopping down on the white couch. She follows and sits next to you, her thigh touching yours. 

Your heart is pumping so fast and you couldn’t care less about the flight because you’re finally here, with her. So you take her wine glass and put it on the coffee table with yours before climbing into her lap and kissing her roughly. 

She makes a slightly surprised “oomph” before her tongue is in your mouth, entangling with yours, her hands creeping under your shirt and stroking up and down the skin of your sides. Her fingers are cold and they make you gasp. 

“I missed you so much,” you murmur against her mouth and grind down hard on her rapidly growing bulge. She hisses and digs her fingernails into you. “You fucking tortured me.” 

She laughs breathlessly, tugging on your bottom lip with her teeth. “I thought the video would help. It just made it so much fucking worse,” she admits and your entire body heats up. “I was so lonely — so horny — fuck, baby.” She loses her train of thought when you kiss down her neck and nip. 

“I need your cock so bad,” you whimper, having thought of little else for the last twenty-four hours. You slide off her lap and onto the floor between her legs, your body moving faster than your mind, and you’re undoing her pants before either of you realize what you’re doing. 

You pull her cock out and lick up the length with your flattened tongue and the sound she makes, somewhere between a gasp and a groan, goes straight to your cunt. She slouches more onto the couch so it’s easier for you to start lathering your saliva all over her. Her hips thrust up every now and then, and when you take the tip in and hollow your cheeks out, her ass fully lifts off the couch. 

“God, honey, you suck mommy’s cock so well,” she whimpers and it spurs you on to go further down. There’s an ache in your stomach already and you can feel your wetness on your upper thighs. 

Agatha’s hand tangles in your hair, but just rests and lets you go at your own pace. You can feel her twitch against your tongue and you suck harder. 

“Baby, god, fuck — you’re so hot, mommy loves your mouth,” Agatha rambles and she throbs when her cock hits the back of your throat and you gag, tightening around her. She’s not going to last long, you can feel her pulsing and swelling, her cock growing heavier on your tongue. You think you could cum right now if you touched yourself. 

You look up at her through your eyelashes and she groans like she’s in pain and then you pull your mouth off her, gasping for breath, while strands of spit still connect your lips to her cock. “Use me, mommy,” you say hoarsely and her hips involuntarily jump. “Fuck my mouth.” 

This time, when you take her cock again, she thrusts her cock deep into your throat over and over. The only sounds in the room are you gagging and her moaning. 

“Fuck, honey, I’m going to cum,” she pants and you nod slightly before trying to say something around her cock. But the vibrations against her feel too good and she stiffens before spurts of her cum fill your mouth. She slows her thrusts while she pumps her seed down your throat and you take it all, groaning at the somewhat salty taste. 

She pulls out, cock soft, and slumps onto the couch and you wipe a strand of cum off your lip and suck it from your finger. You shift on your knees and she tracks the motion with her eyes, smirking wickedly. 

“I always forget how hot and bothered sucking my cock gets you,” she purrs and then jerks her head to the couch. “Take your clothes off and lay down.” 

You swallow roughly and get to your feet before teasing her by slowly taking your clothes off. Her fingers dig into the couch beneath her and her limp cock twitches just a bit when you reveal that you’re wearing her favorite lingerie. She’s always been able to recover relatively quickly and your mouth waters at the thought that, soon enough, you’ll have her inside you. 

Once you’re naked, you settle on your back, one leg up over the pillows and your other foot resting on the floor, baring your dripping cunt to her. The look in her eyes is positively ravenous and she tosses the hair that’s come loose from her hair tie over her shoulder before situating herself so that she’s on her knees in front of you. 

And then she leans down and runs her tongue through your folds — which are practically fused together with how wet you are — and you keen. 

“Mommy,” you gasp, back arching. She chuckles against you and the feeling makes you moan. “I need you, please.” 

She teases you a little, her tongue circling around your clit but never quite touching it, and your hips grind up to try to get just a little more stimulation. One of her hands trails up your body to pinch your nipple right as she sucks on your clit and you’ve never made such a high-pitched sound in your life. 

Your noise drags a strangled moan from her mouth and her hips jerk. She starts to devour you, her tongue lashing against your clit and then thrusting inside you as far as she can go. Her other hand digs into your thigh, holding it open and using it for leverage just the same. 

It takes you a little bit to notice what she’s doing — her hot mouth on your pussy has made your brain go completely fuzzy — but when you pick up on her flattened out body on the couch and her ass flexing in a steady rhythm, you clench violently around her tongue. 

Agatha is grinding her cock against the couch. Eating you out for three minutes has gotten her so hard that she’s desperately getting any stimulation that she can. 

Her fingers continue to tug and roll your nipple and her mouth is furiously lapping at your cunt and you can feel yourself getting so close. 

“Please, mommy, Agatha, I’m —” you whine and her hand on your leg removes itself before she quickly slides two fingers into you while she rubs her tongue against your clit. Your walls bear down immediately around her and she curls them up and presses deep inside you. It makes you sob and your hips move on their own accord to chase the orgasm that is about to wash over you. 

Agatha’s thrusts against the couch are getting more and more sloppy and she’s moaning against your cunt like she’s never been more content in her life. Your breathing becomes short and shallow and tingles spread through your entire body. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” You can’t even finish your sentence before she sucks roughly on your clit and sends you right over the edge. Your vision goes white for a second, completely overwhelmed with pleasure as she keeps fucking you through your orgasm. She doesn’t stop, and although you have no doubt you’d be able to cum again in no time at all, it’s been too long without her cock inside you. 

You tug at her hair weakly until she finally stops and looks up at you, her nose and the entire bottom half of her face absolutely coated with your wetness. Heat flares through your stomach and you almost shove her right back down between your legs. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Agatha coos and you whimper at her sweet voice. “Do you need more? Do you need mommy’s cock?” 

When you nod eagerly, Agatha grins and crawls back up to her knees and you moan when you see her cock. It’s just as hard as it was before — maybe even harder? Is that possible? — and so red. It looks almost painful. 

She bends over you and slides her cock against your entrance, both of you letting out heavy sighs of relief. “Wait,” you choke out, and she stops. You need to feel her deeper. 

You turn over from your position on your back and get on your knees and elbows so that your ass is straight up in the air. Agatha sharply inhales and her hands cup your asscheeks before giving each one a little spank simultaneously. 

Agatha drags her cock through your folds and then circles your clit with it, the feeling of her skin against yours making you keen. 

And then she pushes into you, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan. Agatha mews once she bottoms out and holds still for a second, savoring the feeling of your walls milking her. 

She starts to move, not even giving you a chance to adjust before setting a fast pace, her hips making a sound every time they slap against your ass. She’s filling you up so good, hitting a spot so deep inside you that makes you gasp each time, and your head drops to rest on your elbows while you start to push back against her thrusts. 

Her pace stutters when you clench around her and she grabs onto your hips so tightly that your chest warms at the possibility of having bruises so you can remember just how good she fucked you. She practically slams you back and forth on her cock and there are no other thoughts in your head, no other words you can say, besides “Mommy!” 

“I know, babygirl,” she rasps. “You’re taking my cock so well — fuck, I think this pussy was made for me. You were made for mommy’s cock, weren’t you?” 

“Yes, god, yes, I was,” you pant, letting her completely use you. It’s like she’s just fucking her fleshlight and, god, that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. 

She spanks your ass again and the familiar feeling of your orgasm rises steadily in your stomach. You can feel Agatha’s cock throbbing inside you with each thrust, can hear her groans become less restrained as she loses composure for the second time, and you need more. 

Your hand snakes down between your body and couch to rub at your clit and your walls instantly clench around Agatha. 

“Fuck, babygirl, mommy’s about to cum,” she gasps and it only drives you closer. 

You press on your clit while her drives become short and fast, effectively knocking the wind out of you every time. “Cum inside me, mommy, want you to breed me,” you breathe and she falters for a second, a loud, guttural moan tearing from her lips, before recovering and fucking you even harder. 

“Yeah, honey, mommy’s gonna breed you,” she babbles in agreement, an urgency you usually don’t hear from her lacing her tone. When you fuck, she usually does cum inside you anyway, but there’s something about asking her to breed you that turns you on beyond words. Seems like it has a similar effect on her too. 

Tears gather in your eyes as she keeps thrusting into you and you’re not even aware that you’re cumming before your body spasms and jerks around her, and you keep frantically rubbing your clit to prolong the feeling spreading through you. 

Your pussy convulses around her and she stills, grunting lowly, and then her cock stutters a few times inside you before pulsing and you whimper at the feeling of her cum spreading through you, and fuck, you’re so full. 

Agatha stays inside you for a few moments, both of you enjoying the feeling, before pulling out. You curse under your breath when her cum oozes out of you in globs and Agatha runs and grabs a towel to clean you up. 

You swear when she rubs the towel over your pussy, she brushes against your clit on purpose, and it makes you wince. You’re already sensitive from your two explosive orgasms and you don’t know if you could take anymore. 

She helps you stand and the two of you walk up the stairs together, whispering sweet nothings and exchanging soft kisses, and then once you get to your room, Agatha turns on the shower while you sit on the edge of the tub and wait for it to warm up. 

“I think next time you leave, I should come with you no matter what so I can fuck you every night for the rest of our lives,” she jokes and you laugh. 

“Why did we even make that sex tape then?” you tease. 

Her eyebrows wiggle teasingly and she comes closer to you and tugs you off the tub. “I seem to remember you liking that quite a bit. Plus, now when I’m at work and I get bored, I can just pull out my phone and watch what a good slut you are for me.” 

Despite you being completely worn out, there’s no ignoring the heat that runs through when she says that. “God, you’re insatiable,” you say, mockingly dropping your jaw, and she chuckles before kissing your lips. 

And then she opens the door to the shower for you both to get in and sinks to her knees in front of you. You gasp. 

“You love it,” she says before licking through your swollen pussy and you have to lean back against the wall. 

Yes, you do. 

[lastoneout]

Sorry to add on(also sorry it's so long) but this is also why now is a good time to start wearing masks if you stopped.

We have been on the road to a potential Bird Flu(H5N1 or HPAI) pandemic for the last year and while we still haven't seen evidence of Human to Human spread...monitoring that and giving the public information in case thing change was the job of the CDC, NIH, and FDA, all of who have been silenced by Trump. There's a very real possibility that H5N1 could go H2H and without anyone noticing and/or without the ones who notice being allowed to speak about it. Currently samples from any US H5N1 cases HAVE to be sent to the CDC to confirm, most hospitals and state agencies don't have tests that can distinguish between different types of Influenza A, and the CDC just got gagged. One of the only agencies in the US that can confirm human cases and tell the public if H5N1 goes H2H was just forbidden to talk to anyone at all.

Every single disease expert and vet and doctor who has been talking about H5N1 is sounding the alarm on this because the US's reaction was already painfully inadequate, and now we don't even know if the US government is going to do anything about it at all. And like, we don't even know for sure how bad H5N1 could be as a pandemic! There are already off-shoots like the one in cows that seems to mostly be mild in humans, but that's just one variant. Worse ones have killed or nearly killed people, and all versions have devastated animal populations around the world, and it's already proven extremely difficult to contain even in countries that ARE doing everything they can to stop it.

We could be fine, or we could have a pandemic with a virus that can kill way more efficiently than COVID living in a country led by a president who oversaw COVID and who's inaction during that disaster is responsible for hundreds of thousands of deaths who fills his government health positions with anti-vaxxers and raw milk snake oil salesmen and forbids the agencies that are supposed to handle this from talking about it at all.

We are in the dark. We don't know when the CDC, FDA, and NIH are going to be allowed to speak to us again(they said Feb 1st but I don't trust them not to extend it, and that's still too long for them to be silent, we were supposed to get several H5N1 alerts today and that obviously didn't happen) and tbh just seeing what happened with TikTok does make me worry they're also going to come back wrong.

So please, start masking again. Get your flu and covid shots(and others you might be due for). Buy extra masks if you can, and be willing to pass them out to friends and loved ones. Keep you cats inside, and do NOT feed them raw pet food or milk. You also should avoid raw milk, pasteurized is still safe. Avoid interacting with wild aninals, especially birds and especially ones that seem sick. Wear an N95, gloves, and goggles if you have to clean up a dead one. If you can stay home when you're sick please do and if you can't PLEASE MASK, studies have shown if you wear it properly even a baggy surgical mask is better than nothing. And like OP says, pay attention.

This gag order is genuinely really scary, worse than what I expected back in November, so please do what you can to minimize the damage that can be done to yourself, your loved ones, your community, and the world as a whole. We're on our own but we're still in this together. Don't give up, but be safe.

Trump has ordered the FDA, CDC and NIH to "pause communications with the public" until February 1st, with includes new regulations, announcements, press, we posts and more until they are "approved by a political appointee". Please keep your eyes on this. Trump is about to fuck up FDA shit again and we may potentially see a radical change in regulations on our health and food.

Some in my circle were talking about subscribing to European FDA communications and only taking medications and advice vetted in Europe until then or for the foreseeable future.

[he3ts]

THIRTY ONE DAYS

pairings: the salesman x reader

warnings: in this part none in particular, except use of guns (?)

plot: a recruiter and an fbi agent. you are mutually obsessed with each other, what could go wrong?

The air was still in the empty hotel, as if the building itself was holding its breath, and there you were, alone, standing in the middle of the lobby. The dim light from the neon flashing above the lobby, filtered through the dirty windows, but did little to brighten the room. Darkness lurked in the corners, like a waiting predator. That darkness reminded you of your training at Quantico, of how you had conquered all fear just to continue your work. Your heart was pounding, every shot ringing in your ears like a dull drum.

After months of pursuits, of traps that seemed perfect and instead failed miserably, after sleepless nights spent calculating and recalculating your every move, there he was.

The recruiter.

He was in front of you at last. He sat in a worn and weathered armchair, his legs crossed and a calmness that disarmed you. The light danced on his face, but the shadow of the cigar between his lips was the thing that stood out in your eyes. It was as if he had been waiting for you, not the other way around. His relaxed posture, that barely-there smile, everything about him conveyed an uncanny confidence, as if he knew your every weakness, your every intention.

"I must say I'm impressed, agent"

His voice was soft, but the sarcasm that accompanied it was as sharp as a blade. Those words made you clench your fists, an instinctive gesture that revealed the anger you were trying to hold back.

"I thought you would have given up long before," he added with a slight tilt of his head, as if he was studying you, looking for a reaction. You stared at him. Motionless, as if you were pinned down by an invisible force. Inside you, however, was chaos. Anger bubbled in your chest, alongside something else you did not want to acknowledge: a deaf obsession, a disturbing attraction to the man you had pursued for so long. There was also curiosity, a disturbing curiosity that gnawed at your soul. You wanted to know. You wanted to understand.

You had imagined it a thousand times, this moment. You had experienced it in your dreams and nightmares, you had predicted it and repeated it in your mind like an obsessive ritual. Yet, now that you were there, the only sound was that of your labored breathing and the distant hum of a faulty electrical tube.

Finally, it was your voice that broke the silence, even though it sounded almost foreign to you. "There is no one here to save you," you said, in a tone you wanted to be harsh, implacable. "This time, you have no way out"

He laughed. Not a full laugh, but a short, sharp one, enough to make you grit your teeth. "Oh, really?" he said, tilting his head slightly. "Do you think I'm the one who needs saving?"

Those words hit you like a fist, heavy and impossible to ignore. For a moment, you hesitated. There was no one there with you.

No allies, no reinforcements. Just you and him. And there was something in his voice that made you tremble, a realization you could not ignore: every move, from then on, would be decisive. Every mistake, potentially fatal.

You realized that no matter how much you had planned everything, the game was starting at that moment, and he, with his unflappable smile, already knew all the rules. You were cursing Gi-Hun for that assignment, but you was technically helping a friend. However, you were missing the evidence, which unfortunately your colleague had disappeared into the ocean.

You had moved a step closer, your eyes fixed on him like those of a hunter who did not want to lose sight of his prey. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to react, but you did not draw the gun hanging from the holster under your vest. Not yet. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your impatience, nor your anger.

"You've been hiding for months," you said, in a tone as sharp as a razor blade, "always one step ahead. But no more. I will stop your fucking inhuman games"

Your words echoed in the empty hotel lobby, but he did not react as you expected. No sign of fear, no trace of anxiety. He tilted his head, as someone observing a painting whose meaning he could not grasp. His eyes scanned you, analyzing every crease in your face, every breath, as if you were an enigma to be deciphered. A lock of black hair had fallen over his forehead, jauntily, nothing seemed to disturb him.

"Oh, honey," he said with a thin smile that made you grit your teeth, "you still don't understand, do you? I was never the one hiding. I let you chase me. Every move you made, every choice you made, every decision--it was mine. I guided you here"

Those words hit you like a punch to the stomach, a shiver ran down your spine, but you would never give him the satisfaction of seeing your upset. "Liar," you spat, trying to maintain control. "You're just a coward playing with other people's lives because you don't have the courage to face your own misery!"

Yet, his smile did not falter. On the contrary, it widened, revealing a dark sparkle in his eyes. He rose slowly from the chair, his movements fluid and calculated, like a predator stretching before attacking. He looked taller than I remembered, or maybe it was the shadow that made him that way.

"Face my misery?" he repeated, with a short, heatless laugh. "You talk about courage as if you know anything about it, but look at you" He took a step forward, and then another. "How long have you been living just for this moment? How long has your obsession with me consumed you? Isn't this the real misery?"

You stiffened, and for a moment you felt the need to take a step back, but you stopped immediately, forcing yourself not to back down. "You're good with words," you replied, your voice colder than you felt. "But it won't work"

He stopped, a few steps away from you, the calmness radiating from his body almost unbearable. He made a gesture with his hand, pointed to the environment around you. "Do you know why I brought you here?" he asked, his voice low and velvety, almost hypnotic. "Because this place is perfect. Empty, isolated, silent. No one will hear you scream"

Your breath quickened, and without realizing it, your hand was already on the gun. But before you could pull it out, he raised a hand, a slow, theatrical gesture. "Wait," he said, his tone calm as if he were explaining something to an old friend. "Before you do something you might regret, let me ask you a question"

You stared at him, breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Are you really sure you want to know why I let you find me?" he continued, moving another step closer until you could hardly hear his breath. "Are you ready for that?"

The air felt heavy, as if the very walls of the hotel were tightening around you. Every fiber of your being was telling you to act, to do something, but his words had you immobilized, as if some part of you knew there was truth in what he was saying.

"Because, you know," he said, tilting his head slightly, "you're not so different from me. You like to think you're the hero, but really ... you're just another piece in this game"

The gun slid from its holster with a firm movement, and you pointed it at his chest, your hands steady despite the tremor you felt inside. "One more word and you'll regret it," you hissed, your voice hard as steel. But he didn't seem scared at all. In fact, his smile grew wider, almost amused. "Perhaps," he said, his tone light, almost cheerful. "But have you ever considered that, just like everyone else, you too could be a player?"

The silence that followed was deafening. You felt as if you were hovering on a thin wire, with emptiness beneath you. And for the first time, a thought crossed your mind like a bolt of lightning: what if you were not in control of the situation? That you were going crazy? That this was yet another trouble you had gotten yourself into?

The gun was pointed at him, and you felt your finger resting on the trigger, steady, ready. Every fiber in your body was tense, every muscle waiting for a signal to act. The cold metal of the weapon pressed against the palm of your hand, but it was his gaze, that mocking smile on his face, that weighed most heavily on you. He did not turn his eyes away from yours, not out of fear, not out of anger, but with that disarming calm that made you want to pull the trigger just to erase it.

"I'm not afraid," you said, your voice hard but just a little cracked.

Yet even as you spoke those words, you knew it would not be that simple. You knew it in the way he moved, slow and calculated, as if he was in control, even though you had the weapon. You knew it in the way his every word seemed to slip under your skin, creeping in like poison.

The recruiter did not seem the least bit intimidated. In fact, the smile on his face widened, subtle, dangerous. It was as if he had been waiting for exactly that moment. "Would you really?" he asked, his voice soft, almost curious. "Would you really think that pulling that trigger would solve anything? Or maybe ... you just want to do it for yourself?"

Those words struck you more than you would have liked. For a moment, a flash of doubt crossed your mind. But you forced yourself to banish it, to focus only on him. "Enough of your games," you spat, clutching your weapon more tightly. "They won't work"

He laughed softly, a laugh that seemed made on purpose to irritate you, to test you. He took a step toward you, so slow and measured that you almost didn't notice until he was too close. "Ah, but they work already, Y/n. Look where we are. Look how I got you here, exactly where I wanted you"

You felt the finger on the trigger tighten just a little more. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions: anger, frustration, and something darker, something you didn't want to admit. It was him. His presence. The way he seemed to know your every thought, your every move before you even made it.

"You think you're in control," he continued, his voice a whisper that seemed to fill the entire room. "You think you're the one in charge, but in reality-you're exactly where I wanted you to be. Doesn't that sound curious?"

His calmness infuriated you, but you could not deny the knot you felt tightening in your stomach. It wasn't fear. It was something else, an emotion you could not define. An obsession you didn't want to acknowledge, one that had driven you to follow him, to pursue him for months, years.

"Shut up," you hissed, but your voice was less firm than you had hoped.

"Ah, there," he said, tilting his head slightly. "That's what you want, isn't it? Silence. But you can never find it, can you? It's you. You and your need to understand, to control. That's why you haven't killed me yet"

You felt your breath quicken, your finger trembling slightly on the trigger. You hated it. You hated the way he could turn your every action into his victory, your every word into a weapon against you. But, most of all, you hated the fact that a part of you knew he was right.

And he, as if he had read your thoughts, took another step forward. He was close now, too close. You felt his presence like a shadow, heavy and looming. "Come on, agent" he said, almost softly. "Pull that trigger. Do it. It will set you free, right?"

His words were a venomous whisper that squeezed your throat. But you hadn't done it. Your finger remained there, motionless, still on the trigger, but unable to move. Because, deep down, you knew he was right. Shooting wouldn't have solved anything. It would not have erased what you were feeling. It would not have stopped the game.

The recruiter took another step forward, getting so close that you could almost feel the heat of his body. You could feel your finger on the trigger pulsing, your heart beating hard against your ribs. But he didn't seem to mind. In fact, his calm seemed almost surreal, as if he was sure you would not fire.

Then something had happened that you had not expected. Slowly, unhurriedly, he extended a hand toward you. Your reflexes prompted you to stiffen, to point the gun more firmly at him, but he did not stop. With infuriating slowness, his fingers reached down to your hair, taking a strand between his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes widened, your breath caught. You felt your heart quicken as he, with a soft gesture, brought that lock of hair to your face. He sniffed it, closing his eyes briefly as if savoring a memory, or something sacred.

"Agent," he murmured, her voice low, almost a whisper. "This is what I've been chasing all this time. This is what drove me to play"

His words hit you like a lash, but you were too confused, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment to react immediately. He opened his eyes and looked at you, and that look affected you more than his closeness. There was something dark, morbid in those eyes of his.

"You don't realize it," he continued, his hand still in contact with your hair, "but it's always been you. Not the games. Not the power. Not the victory. Just you"

"You're crazy," you hissed, your tone harsh but cracked. You wanted to push him away, push him away, but it was as if your legs didn't respond.

"I know," he replied, with a shameless smile. "But maybe that's why we're perfect. Because you too, deep down, are like me"

Those words set you off; you finally found the strength to back away a step, shaking his hand out of your hair. "Stop it," you said, raising the gun again. "We are not the same. We never will be"

He did not move, his smile barely widening. "Really? Then why don't you pull that trigger? Why don't you put an end to this?"

Yet, inside you, something was breaking. Like a rope pulled too long, ready to give way under the weight of that night, of those words that seemed to hit you where you knew you were most vulnerable. The recruiter, motionless before you, barely tilted his head, his gaze charged with morbid interest, his smile now slow, calculated.

"What's going on? The big moment and you're paralyzed? You can't decide whether to shoot me or stay and watch me, as you've been doing for months!" His voice was like glass against skin, sharp and thin, but it was that amused, almost indulgent tone that made you grit your teeth. "Don't worry, we can stay here all night. I'm in no hurry"

You felt the weight of each word. They dug into you, lurking like thorns, but you wouldn't let go. Not yet. You didn't have to believe them, not even for a second. But those eyes. Those eyes seemed to be able to read you better than you could read yourself. And for a moment, you felt that terrible doubt creep into you. What if he was right?

But you were too weak, because he was right, you had turned around so fast that the gun almost slipped from your hand. But you had let it go. The dull sound of the gun falling to the floor had been the last sound before the chaos. Your legs had begun to move, as if they knew where to go better than you did. Each step took you farther, each breath was a cry of rebellion against the weight of his presence.

You were running away.

His laughter had filled the hotel, bouncing off the peeling walls as you ran down the dark hallway. Your feet pounded on the floor, the sound of footsteps almost covered by the distant hum of neon lights wavering above you.

You had not stopped. You couldn't.

[felassan]

Harding narrative sketches and captions by Nick Thornborrow, under a cut due to spoilers and length:

Nick Thornborrow: "Let's do a thread of Harding sketches and talk about the crazy Twine file I made. There was a visual novel style version of Veilguard's earliest story outline that was written by Trick and the writers and assembled in Twine by me. These black and white sketches are what populated the Twine file."

[artist's caption] Portrait sketch of Harding.

Harding examining an artifact in the ruins of the disrupted ritual.

Harding being struck by arcane powers.

Harding exhibiting magical abilities dispatching a demonic monster.

Nick Thornborrow: "Let's just pause and enjoy these two drawings side by side."

1 of 2. Harding deep in concentration, hands flexed trying to levitate a pebble on the ground. Rook stands by patiently in the background, hands in pockets, eyes locked on the pebble.

2 of 2. The camera has pulled way back. Harding is small in the frame, and not merely moving a pebble, but causing the entire ground to convulse in a radial pattern around her. Rook is being tossed like a ragdoll into the air.

Nick Thornborrow: "Back to the Twine file. It was meant to emulate the flow of the narrative and broadcast that narrative out to the wider team. "Here's what we're trying to make." The challenge I put on myself was to reflect the narrative branching we intended to build."

Harding carrying a torch entering a dark dwarven threshold deep underground.

Harding meeting the Oracle. The Oracle is smaller in this rendering than how she appears in game.

Harding and the Oracle communing through the stone in a strange dark and infinite sublime psychological space.

Harding briefly being overcome with rage. Her eyes gleam red, and red glowing veins glow below her skin a la video game corruption.

Nick Thornborrow: "So I did what no one asked for. You couldn't simply plow through the story. Side missions would become available on a cadence and would be assigned to numbers on a dice roll (a certain amount of variability in side content was planned in the early days of Veilguard)."

Harding being blown back by angry earth based boss monster. This was the boss fight after meeting the Oracle in game.

Rook spends a quiet moment with Harding who is becoming accustomed to her powers, elegantly floating three stones in the air in front of her. A beautiful eroded gorge vista in the background with a narrow waterfall.

A down shot of Rook and Harding. Harding and Rook hold hands.

Rook withdrawing her hand from Harding in pain. Harding's hand glows with lyrium power.

Nick Thornborrow: "You would need to accumulate enough trust with a certain number of factions, and/or progress enough of a companion's story line in order to advance the twine version of the game simulating the rough gating envisioned by designers and writers at the time. (This was a hugely collaborative effort)."

Kal Sharok dwarf trapped in a stone column being rescued by Harding who is exploding the wall of the column with her powers.

Harding bow and arrow action pose surrounded by rocky golem monsters.

Harding confronting a red glowing mirror version of herself.

Harding grim faced, pressing her forehead to that of the red glowing version of herself who is screaming in rage. Symmetrical composition.

Nick Thornborrow: "Finally the twine file was sent out to the team. I was frustrated while working on DA2 and DA:I where team members had no idea what the narrative of the narrative-based game we were making was. It would lead to disjointed decisions being made completely divorced from the efforts of other teams."

Rook in the foreground fighting rock golems. Harding and mirror Harding in hte background floating ominously in a miasma of red lyrium energy.

Harding standing on a precipice overlooking a crowd of Kal Sharok dwarves. Harding is glowing and heroic.

Harding and the Oracle in a dark inifinite void pressing their palms together. They are surrounded by ghostly images of dwarven ancestors representing unbroken lineages.

Harding smiling among a crowd of Kal Sharok dwarves.

Nick Thornborrow: "Like bright and cheery level art being constructed where a world ending apocalyptic magical event was occurring. With Veilguard, it was the earliest into a project where the narrative team could be like "Hey team, it'll change along the way, but this is the story we're going to be iterating on." END"

Rook and Harding enjoying an intimate cozy domestic moment. Harding resting her head in her palm propped up on her elbow, Rook smiling hands behind head on pillow.

Environment shot of Harding's childhood home in a field in the background. In the foreground Rook and Harding are cresting a hill in their walk towards the home.

Rook and Harding sharing a kiss, both figures glowing subtly with lyrium energy.

Art by Nick Thornborrow. [source thread]

[rikabluejay]

MDNI!!!!!!!

✎Passion

Pairing: idol!Jungwon x Fem reader | one-shot

Rating: Mature

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex(WRAP IT UP), teasing(if you squint), rough sex, overstimulation, established relationship, fingering, blowjob, squirting. Let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: written on barely any sleep saur enjoy😮‍💨 req/asks are open so feel free to drop them. (Not proofread)

Summary✨

Y/N’s housemates were throwing a party, and invited Enhypen to join the fun. Throughout the night, Y/N exudes confidence, dancing and enjoying herself in a way that keeps catching Jungwon’s attention. Struggling to keep his composure as her allure proves too much, he finally gives in to his desire. They sneak away from the party, letting their passion take over and sharing an intimate moment that neither of them can resist.

Loud music blasted through the house, vibrating the walls as Jungwon’s desire for you burned hotter than ever. He couldn’t keep it hidden any longer, especially after watching you lose yourself to the beat, the way you moved so freely and enjoyed the rhythm—it made his blood rush.

Without a word, he grabbed your hand and led you away from the others, pulling you into the privacy of your bedroom. The door clicked shut behind you both, and he wasted no time, trapping you between the wall and his body. His breath was ragged, eyes dark with longing as he looked down at you, barely holding back.

“Can I?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but thick with need.

Your heart raced. You’ve been trying to keep it together, trying to control the way your body has been reacting to him all night. The heat in his gaze, the way his hands gripped yours—he was just too much. You barely managed a subtle nod, your breath hitching, and that was all it took.

He surged forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was desperate and full of hunger. It wasn’t soft—it was as if you both has been starved for this moment. His lips parted and deepened the kiss, hands tracing every curve of your body as he pulled your flesh against him, your bodies grinding in an unspoken rhythm.

Jungwon was already tugging at the fabric of your dress, bunching it up around your waist, his hands sliding over the soft skin of your thighs. He could feel the heat radiating off you, the anticipation between them thick in the air. His tie was the first to go, undone with a single flick of his wrist. The room felt like it was suffocating, but neither of you cared.

He pushed you onto the bed with a force that made you gasp. His eyes burned with desire as he hovered over you, his body caging you in, a contrast to the slow, tender kisses he traced down your neck. He nipped at the sensitive skin just below your ear, feeling the shiver that ran through you as he continued his path downward, kissing his way to the delicate curve of your collarbone.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered between kisses, his hands roaming as he explored every inch of you, touching you as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered. He couldn’t get enough of you—your skin, the soft sounds you made, the way you melted against him.

Your breath hitched as his hands slid up your body, tracing the fabric of her dress, eager to feel the bare skin beneath. Your hands found his shirt, tugging it out of his pants, desperate to feel him too. He groaned, breaking the kiss to lean back and pull the shirt off, his toned chest exposed to you as he hovered above you, breathing heavily. You could see the raw want in his eyes, and it made your stomach flip with excitement.

The air was thick with need, your bodies so close but still so much distance to cover. He didn’t waste time—his hands slid down to your waist, gripping you tightly before tugging you closer, his lips finding yours again, this time even more frantic, as if he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Jungwon’s lips hovered above yours, breath warm and heavy as his fingers slid lower, finding the sensitive part of you that made you gasp against his mouth. He kissed you deeply, swallowing every soft sound you made as his fingers moved with precision, his touch skilled and deliberate. He slowly slipped one finger in—scissoring you open, then he added another. He was relentless, every thrust and every rub calculated to push you closer to the edge.

“You’re all I can think about,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ll take care of you, my love.”

Your body arched against him, your fingers gripping his shoulders tightly as the pleasure built inside you, coiling tighter and tighter until you were barely able to breathe. “Jungwon—please,” you whimpered, your voice trembling, barely able to form the words.

He didn’t let up. His fingers moved faster, the pad of his thumb circling your clit perfectly as he leaned down to kiss along your jawline, his hot breath teasing your skin. His other hand found its way to your waist, holding you steady as you squirmed under his touch, lost in the overwhelming sensation.

“You’re so close, aren’t you? Let go for me, pretty girl,” he coaxed, his voice soothing but filled with intensity. “That’s it—come on, I’ve got you.”

Your body tensed as the familiar tightness in your stomach snapped. A moan tore from your lips, your head falling back against the pillows as you gave in, your entire body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Jungwon’s lips found your forehead, then your cheeks, peppering you with gentle kisses as his fingers slowed to help you ride it out.

“Good girl—my good girl,” he whispered, his voice full of pride and affection. His free hand brushed your hair away from your damp forehead as he gazed down at you, his dark eyes softening for a moment.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he leaned closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “One more,” he said, his voice rough and hungry. “Give me one more, princess. You can, right? My pretty girl?”

Your breath hitched, your body already sensitive, but the way he spoke—the raw desire in his tone—made you nod weakly. “Y-Yes,” you managed to say, your voice trembling but eager to please him.

Jungwon’s fingers returned, teasing and thrusting with a confidence that left you reeling. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your flushed skin, occasionally nipping at your collarbone to draw out more of those sweet sounds he loved so much.

“You’re so perfect like this,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the curve of your shoulder. “I could do this all night—make you feel like this again and again.”

Your hands clawed at the sheets, overwhelmed by the intensity. Your body trembled beneath him, every nerve alight as he pushed you higher and higher. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, the combination of his fingers, his words, and the kisses he trailed across your skin sending you spiraling.

“Jungwon—I can’t,” you whimpered, though your body betrayed you, rolling your hips into his hand.

“Yes, you can,” he assured you, his tone soft but commanding. “Just let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

And then you shattered again, your body trembling as the pleasure ripped through you, leaving you breathless and completely undone. Jungwon didn’t stop until you had ridden out every wave, his fingers slowing before slipping away.

He hovered above you, his lips pressing against yours in a tender kiss. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, brushing your hair back as he gazed at you with a mixture of awe and affection. “My beautiful, perfect girl.”

As your breathing steadied, you opened your eyes to find Jungwon watching you with a mix of adoration and heat. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his lips slightly parted as he tried to catch his breath. You placed a gentle kiss on his lips before shifting to straddle him.

“Let me take care of you now,” you whispered, your voice low and breathy, your fingers brushing through his damp hair.

Jungwon blinked, his gaze locked onto yours as your words registered. When you leaned closer, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear, you added softly, “Please—may I?”

A quiet groan escaped his throat, and he gave a slight nod, unable to form the words. The sight of you, flushed and radiant, made his pulse race, and he already knew he was helpless to deny you.

You trailed kisses down his neck, your lips soft and teasing. You took your time, your fingers grazing his warm skin, and Jungwon let his head fall back against the pillows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

When you shifted lower, undoing his belt and sliding his pants down, your fingertips brushed against him lightly, making him shudder. A wicked smile played on your lips as you wrapped your hand around him, moving in slow, deliberate strokes that had him biting his lip to hold back a groan.

But you weren’t in the mood to tease for too long. You leaned down, your lips barely brushing against his tip as you gave a soft, experimental lick, drawing a sharp inhale from him. You glanced up through your lashes, your expression equal parts playful and seductive, and saw the way his jaw tightened in response.

You took him deeper, your warm tongue gliding along his length as you wrapped your lips around him. The heat and wetness of your mouth had him gripping the sheets, his knuckles turning white as he let out a low, guttural moan. You set a slow rhythm, pulling him in and releasing him, your lips and tongue working together to drive him insane.

Jungwon’s composure began to crack almost immediately. His hand instinctively found its way to your hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he struggled to keep himself from bucking his hips. “Y/N,” he rasped, his voice strained. “You’re—God, you’re killing me.”

You hummed around him in response, the vibrations making his breath hitch. You went deeper, taking him until he hit the back of your throat, and instead of pulling away, you stayed there, breathing steadily through your nose. Jungwon’s head fell back, his eyes rolling shut as a curse slipped past his lips.

When you finally pulled back, your lips glistening and swollen, he looked down at you with dazed eyes, his chest heaving. But you weren’t done. You kissed along his length before taking him in again, moving faster this time, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach.

Jungwon’s control was slipping with every passing second. “Y/N—baby—” he groaned, his hips jerking slightly despite his best efforts to stay still. His hand tightened in your hair, not to force you, but simply because he needed something to hold onto.

You glanced up again, your eyes meeting his, and the sight of you—your flushed cheeks, your determination, the sheer care you poured into every movement—was enough to make him lose his mind.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice shaky and hoarse. “So perfect.”

You didn’t let up, your pace unrelenting as you pushed him closer and closer to the edge. Every sound he made, every gasp and groan, only fueled your determination to give him the same pleasure he had given you.

When his breathing grew ragged and his thighs began to tremble, you knew he was close. You quickened your pace, hollowing your cheeks and adding just a bit more pressure, and it wasn’t long before he tensed beneath you, his body trembling as he spilled his hot cum into your mouth with a broken moan.

You stayed with him through it, your movements gentle as he rode out his high, and when you finally pulled away, you pressed a kiss to his hip before looking up at him with a soft smile.

Jungwon was completely wrecked, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. He reached for you, pulling you up to him and wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice still shaky but filled with adoration. He kissed you softly, murmuring against your lips, “But I’ll spend every moment trying to.”

Jungwon shifted you both effortlessly, flipping you back onto the bed as he settled between your thighs. His gaze burned into yours, a mix of hunger and tenderness, as he positioned himself. Slowly, carefully, he inched into you, groaning softly at the overwhelming heat and tightness that welcomed him. Your breath hitched, your nails digging lightly into his forearms as your body adjusted to the stretch.

Your brows furrowed slightly, but the faint discomfort was quickly overshadowed by the sheer desire coursing through you. “Move,” you whispered, your voice trembling but insistent. “Don’t make me wait, Jungwon.” He chuckled lowly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Impatient, aren’t we?” Still, he didn’t need to be told twice. Jungwon began to move, his hips snapping forward in slow, deliberate strokes, each one calculated to drive you closer to the edge.

The pace didn’t stay slow for long. Your soft gasps and the way your body arched to meet his every thrust had him losing any semblance of restraint. He picked up speed, his movements precise but filled with raw need, each one drawing the most intoxicating sounds from your lips.

Your mind was slipping, your thoughts turning into a hazy blur of sensation. Every nerve in your body felt alive, and it didn’t take long before your nails raked down his back, leaving faint red trails as you held onto him like he was your anchor.

But Jungwon wasn’t just focused on the physical—he wanted to hear you, to feel you give yourself completely to him. “Say it,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “Only for me, right baby?”

Your head tilted back, lips parting as you nodded dumbly, unable to form words. But that wasn’t enough for him. He slowed his pace slightly, angling his hips just right to elicit a sharp cry from you. “Say it. I need to hear you, princess.”

“Only for you,” you managed to gasp, your voice trembling but full of sincerity.

The words were like fuel to the fire inside him. “That’s my girl,” he praised, leaning down to kiss you deeply, his movements resuming with renewed fervor. “My good girl.”

But Jungwon wasn’t done. He pulled out suddenly, leaving you breathless and confused for a moment before flipping you onto all fours. His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you back toward him as he reentered you in one swift motion.

The new angle was devastating, and you couldn’t hold back the cry that tore from your throat as he began to move again, this time relentless and unyielding. Each thrust was deep and purposeful, hitting all the right spots with maddening precision. Your arms trembled, and you buried your face into the sheets, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you.

Jungwon wasn’t just thrusting—he was conquering, claiming every inch of you with a determination that left you utterly undone. He leaned forward, his chest brushing against your back as he whispered into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re mine, Y/N. Always mine.”

Your only response was a string of broken moans, your body shuddering with every thrust. Stars danced behind your eyelids, the sensations so intense that you could barely process them.

Jungwon felt you tightening around him, and he smirked, his ego swelling at how easily he could bring you to the edge. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Go ahead, baby. Let go for me.” His hand slid down your body, his fingers finding your clit once more, circling it in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. The sensation was overwhelming, you could feel yourself unraveling under his touch.

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips and fingers, sent you spiraling. You cried out his name as the tension inside you snapped, waves of pleasure crashing over you in an earth-shattering climax. Jungwon helped you ride it out, his movements slowing just enough to draw every last ounce of your release.

But he wasn’t finished yet. With a teasing grin, he leaned down and kissed your shoulder. “Think you can give me one more, princess?” he asked, his voice gentle but filled with promise.

You could only nod weakly, trusting him to lead you through whatever came next. Jungwon kept his relentless pace, his hips snapping against yours with calculated precision. Your moans grew louder, your voice trembling with each thrust as you clung to the sheets beneath you. His name spilled from your lips like a prayer, each cry more desperate than the last. You were so close—he could feel it in the way your body tightened around him, your legs trembling with anticipation.

But this time, something felt different.

A strange, unfamiliar sensation began to build deep within you, a pressure that felt almost overwhelming. Your brows furrowed, panic slipping into your voice as she gasped, “Jungwon, wait—I think I’m gonna—”

He slowed just slightly, leaning down to press a soothing kiss to your shoulder, his voice low and coaxing. “I know, baby,” he murmured, his tone soft but unwavering. “You’re right where I want you. Just trust me, okay? Let go for me.”

Your breath hitched, your body trembling as you tried to resist the overwhelming pressure. “I-I can’t... I think I’ll—”

Jungwon cut you off with another firm thrust, hitting that spot deep inside you that made you cry out. His hands gripped your hips tighter, steadying you as he murmured against your ear, “You won’t. You’re fine, princess. Just trust me. Let go.”

The reassurance in his voice, the safety you felt in his arms—it was enough. You surrendered to the sensation, letting the tension inside of you snap as a wave of intense release overtook you.

This time, it was different. You squirted—a clear, gushing liquid spilled from you, soaking the sheets beneath you. You let out a sharp, surprised cry, your body shuddering as the pleasure coursed through you in powerful waves.

Jungwon grinned, his pride swelling as he slowed his movements, rubbing circles on your clit to help you ride it out. “That’s it, baby,” he praised, his voice filled with adoration. “You did so well, my pretty girl. So perfect for me.”

Your body sagged against the mattress, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you tried to process what had just happened. But Jungwon wasn’t done yet.

Sliding a hand up your back, he leaned down to kiss your neck, his voice warm and coaxing. “Just a bit more, princess,” he murmured, his tone laced with soft desperation. “For me, yeah? I’m so close.”

You nodded weakly, trusting him completely.

Jungwon slid back in, his thrusts slower now but still deep and purposeful, drawing soft whimpers from your lips. The sensation of your still-sensitive body clenching around him was too much, and with a few more precise thrusts, he came undone.

He groaned your name, his hips stuttering as he spilled into you, you felt the hot spurts of cum inside you. The intensity of his release leaving him momentarily breathless. Collapsing gently onto your back, he wrapped his arms around you, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder and neck.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice filled with genuine affection. “So perfect for me, Y/N. Always.”

As the two of you lay there, your breaths slowly evening out, Jungwon pulled you closer, your bodies still entangled. He stroked your hair gently, his heart full as he murmured, “I love you.”

Just as the warmth of the moment settled around you both, a sudden knock at the door jolted you from your daze.

“Alright, we can hear the passion you guys—keep it down!” came a teasing voice from the other side.

You froze for a second, then burst into laughter, your face burying into Jungwon’s chest to muffle the sound. Your whole body shook as the absurdity of the situation hit you.

Jungwon, on the other hand, flushed a deep red, the tips of his ears burning. He groaned in frustration, reaching for the nearest pillow. “I swear—whoever that is, you’re dead,” he muttered, his voice a mix of embarrassment and annoyance.

You peeked up at him, still giggling as he cocked his arm back, ready to hurl the pillow. “Jungwon, stop!” you whispered through your laughter, trying to grab his arm. “You’ll actually kill them!”

The voice came again, more smug this time. “Don’t worry, Jungwon! You’ve got stamina, we get it!”

“JAY HYUNG!” Jungwon shouted, his voice cracking slightly in exasperation. He launched the pillow at the door, even though it stood no chance of actually hitting the culprit. The sound of muffled laughter from outside only made his embarrassment grow.

You were in stitches by now, tears pricking at your eyes as you clutched your stomach. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you teased, reaching up to pinch his flushed cheek.

Jungwon groaned again, flopping onto his back and dragging a pillow over his face. “I’m never living this down,” he mumbled, his voice muffled.

You leaned over him, your laughter finally calming as you placed a soft kiss on his exposed neck. “They’re just jealous,” you whispered, nuzzling him. “Still doesn’t make it any better,” Jungwon grumbled, peeking out from under the pillow to glare halfheartedly at the door.

Outside, the teasing continued, but Jungwon tuned it out, focusing instead on the girl in his arms. Despite the mortifying interruption, the way you were looking at him now—your eyes warm and full of affection—made him feel like the luckiest person alive.

[phovaries]

IMAGINE:

It’s your first time climbing Mount Everest and you’re super nervous. You’ve spent years training for it. Practically a lifetime spent navigating every horrible what-if scenario that could only have been fathomed in the depths of your worst nightmares. But, it hardens you. Shields you from the fear that wracks your body the second you crane your neck to look up, up, up, into the stratosphere. You take a deep breath, the weight of your gear grounding you as you start your descent to the heavens.

The beginning goes just as planned. One foot in front of the other while following the hordes of others around you. They too are on the same journey as you. Comrades in fighting against your own biology to complete an impossible task thought to only have been reserved for gods. The wind howls around you, tightening its grip on your lungs as you start to struggle to breathe.

It’s okay, I’m just panicking. You think to yourself, knowing that you’ve already trained your lungs to handle the low atmospheric pressure.

It doesn’t get better, though. And like a ship thrown off course by a singular degree, you find yourself dreadfully alone.

It’s okay, you tell yourself. You just need to get to the next checkpoint in time before your fingers start to really hurt. The wind laughs at you as you struggle under its weight, uselessly grunting as your heavy boots slam against the powdery snow.

You can’t cry, not yet. You crane your neck in front of you again, knowing that as long as you could still go up, there was always hope. Only a coward would climb back down at this point, and you refuse to let your worst fears come true. Of never reaching the top. Of spending a lifetime sticking feathers to wax only to have been shot down by the very sun you wished to see.

Cold fingers grow damp in your gloves, and clammy feet start to throb. You whimper softly, closing your eyes to focus, dammit, focus.

Bits of white stick to your clothes, the mountain calling out to you. Pulling you into its eternal emptiness.

You refuse to let it speak.

With a grimace and one last burst of energy, you pull yourself together enough to give just a little more hope.

It doesn’t last long.

Those fears come back, only different this time. Imagining that instead of coming home a coward, you don’t come home at all.

No, you refuse to see it. Can’t imagine how long it would take before your family starts to worry about you. The looks on their faces, god what would they say?

The cold soothes you, now, because you know that once the heat comes fierce and swift that it truly is all over for you.

It’s in that moment, when all tangible hope has been lost, that you see it. A shining beacon in the distance, a swatch of black marring the blank canvas that enveloped you. You’re shivering and cold, but the flames of hope snake their way through your weary bones and you crumble. A person. There’s someone else up here and you found them.

You want to scream. In agony or in joy? You’re not sure. But, it all changes when you get close enough to see the still figure trapped in a layer of snow. Heavy boots lumber towards the figure, and you can’t help but fall to your knees.

No.

Thick, gloved hands shakily reach for the dark material. Cold. Just like everything else on this god forsaken piece of land. Your blood like molasses, the amount of effort needed to take a small shovel out of your bag and dig into the ground around you. You carefully pull off the stranger’s goggles. An omen. A sign from god.

“OMG is that danisnotonfire? Haha wow I love your videos and wow this is-“ you stop, realizing that you are indeed speaking to a dead man. “Damn. Didn’t realize they were planning to tour on Everest.” You look around you at the barren mountainside. “Oh… well I guess that didn’t work out. Anyways nice to meet you.”

It’s then, standing beside a frozen danisnotonfire, that you feel yourself come alive again. You never got to see them on the Terrible Influence Tour because you spent all your time training on Everest, but the universe gifted you with Dan’s last TIT meet and greet.

Thinking about tits, you find the courage and embrace the white void, climb higher and higher until you finally reach that flag and scream. First, a garbled string of sounds that have built up in your chest since the day you decided to climb this mountain, and ending on one great sob.

You’ve done it.

You’ve gotten your TIT meet and greet for the phEverest show.

the mosquito i killed in the middle of the night stuck to my wall:

[kangnoeulsdoll]

Se-Mi’s Rescue.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Se-Mi x Fem!reader

Synopsis: In which you’re on the border of death during the red light, green light game until Se-Mi shows up to rescue you.

a/n: I will write my other requests tomorrow or next week! I’ve been sort of busy. :( I’ll try my best to finish them though!

Its eerie robotic voice echoed in the bloody battlefield.

“Green light.”

We shuffled forward, the terror of the previous rounds still weighing heavy on us. Each step felt like a gamble with death, and my legs trembled beneath me.

“Red light.”

I froze mid-step, holding my breath. Beside me, people stood motionless and their gaze nervously flitted between the giant doll at the other end of the field. Its inert nodding head moved from side to side grasping for what to do.

I’d already seen what happened to those who made even the smallest mistake. The first shots had sent chaos through the crowd, and I had almost turned to run until the reality of the situation struck. Running meant certain death.

The doll’s head stopped moving.

“Green light.”

I made myself walk on, painfully slow. My muscles felt stiff, my body unwilling to obey. Every second was a mental struggle battle between life and the terrible terror of life.

I was at least near the middle of the finish line when the accident happened. I fell subsequently to my foot impact on a dirt piece hitting my sartorius and knee. I can hear my body land on the floor all at once (and the doll too), in the stillness, and I can see the doll's head slowly turn to me.

Panic hit me like a wave. I clambered to my feet, hands getting stuck in the dirt. I felt fear begin, breathing became shallow as I desperately tried to hold myself up.

“Stay still.”

The voice was piercing, but deep, piercing like a knife in my fear. I turned my head just enough to see her—Se-Mi. She was crouched a short distance below, with her intensely focused stare fixed on me. Her very dark and long hair was unkempt, but her face was firm.

“Don’t move,” she repeated, her tone steady. “Stay down.”

“Red light.”

I froze, my body trembling with fear. My hands were on the ground and my knees were screaming in pain from the force of the landing. I did not have the courage to take a breath, much less even look at the doll.

A long, suffocating silence passed. My heart beat in my chest so hard that it felt It would expose me. But no shots came.

The doll’s voice rang out again.

“Green light.”

“Crawl toward me,” Se-Mi whispered. Her gaze momentarily went to the doll and then back to me. “Slowly. Don’t rush.”

When I started wriggling in the dirt on my hands and knees with my arms trembling. Each step felt like a chance, a roll of the dice, even the smallest movement and the risk of killing myself.

“Red light.”

I froze, my face still pressed against the ground. I wasn't even able to raise my head to see where Se-Mi was gone. Simply, I hoped I was close enough to her in the hope of it working.

“Green light.”

Her hand reached out toward me, her fingers steady. I extended my hand, and my hand shook when I grasped hers. She got me to move quickly in one fluid motion, bringing me to my knees.

“You’re okay,” she murmured, her voice low but reassuring. “Just stay with me.”

From then on, I followed her lead. Se-Mi moved accurately, every move perfectly in time to the beat of the game. She was tranquil, undeterred, and yet in her composure something about her reassurance calmed me.

We progressed incrementally, the goal line getting closer with each utterance of “Green light. The moment the voice of the doll changed 'Red light, we all stood still, as if tethered together by an unseen thread.

The field behind us was chaos. A man did so as he fell, and shots rang out. A woman fell to the ground, her body lifeless. I did not have the courage to look back, but I could tell that it all just weighed down on me.

Se-Mi didn’t falter. Her focus was unyielding, her gaze locked ahead.

“Green light.”

We moved again, our steps slow but deliberate. When the finish line was constricted, almost, I could almost taste it.

“Red light.”

We stopped, the air heavy with tension.

“Green light.”

With one final step, we crossed the line. My legs gave way from under me, and I hit the floor, catching my breath as I struggled to get air.

For a short time I could not reason, could not make sense of what had just occurred. The only thing I felt was relief—pure, overwhelming relief.

“You’re safe now,” Se-Mi said, crouching beside me. Her hand rested on my shoulder, firm but comforting.

I looked up at her, tears stinging my eyes. “I-I thought I was going to die.”

Almost," she said, flatly. She was just stating the truth. “But you didn’t. And now you know what it takes to survive.”

I nodded, though her words didn’t feel reassuring.

She straightened, her gaze drifting back to the field. People still lived in those places and threw to make it across the goal line. All other participants took decisions too fast, to the extent that fear would make them to take wrong decisions. Others hesitated too much, their indecision becoming their downfall.

Se-Mi observed it all in a blasé way, her arms crossed, on her chest.

Why did you do that for me?," I whispered even more audibly.

She gazed down at me, but not so cold any longer. “Because you needed it,” she said simply. “And because I need allies in here.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

“If you want to make it through this, she continued, “you’ll need to stay calm. Think before you move. And trust me.”

I nodded again, this time with more conviction.

Se-Mi, gave me her hand and I grasped it, I let her draw me up to my feet.

“Come on,” she said, her tone more matter-of-fact now. “This is just the beginning.”

As I stood beside her, I couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of gratitude and fear. Gratitude for her saving me when she didn’t have to. Fear for what would come next.

But one thing was certain: I wasn’t going to make it through this alone. Now, Se-Mi was the only one I could confide in.

[sosasturns]

handlin business - c. sturniolo

the low hum of the range rover's engine filled the empty lot, headlights casting long shadows against the rusted shipping containers. chris sat in the driver's seat, one hand draped casually over the steering wheel while the other scrolled through his phone. you, seated in the passenger seat, pulled at the hem of your hoodie, the oversized essentials fabric swallowing you up in the dim light.

"how much longer?" you murmured, glancing out the tinted window at the dark stretch of concrete.

chris didn't answer right away, his thumb tapping out a reply to some unread text. finally, he slid his phone into his lap, his profile sharp as he looked past you, eyes narrowing on the figure stepping out of a black sedan a few feet away.

"not long. stay in the car," he said firmly, voice low. you rolled your eyes but didn't argue, watching as he pushed open the door and stepped out, his black nike tech blending into the shadows.

jay was already waiting, a slim, wiry figure leaning against his car with the nonchalant air of someone who thought he was untouchable.

"bout time," chris said, walking up, his hands in his pockets.

"traffic," jay replied with a smirk, straightening up as he reached into the backseat to pull out a black duffle bag.

you leaned forward in your seat, straining to hear their conversation through the cracked window. chris's posture was relaxed, but there was something about the way his shoulders squared up that made your stomach tighten.

jay unzipped the bag, holding it open for chris to inspect. even from the car, you caught the metallic glint of what was inside.

everything seemed fine at first-until it wasn't. you couldn't hear exactly what jay said, but whatever it was had chris stiffening, his head tilting slightly as if to say, you wanna run that by me again?

your hand went to the door handle instinctively, ignoring the warning echoing in your head: stay in the car.

by the time you stepped out, chris had shifted his stance, one hand brushing the waistband of his pants where you knew his glock sat snug. he didn't pull it—he didn't need to. the action alone was enough to make jay pause, his hands going up slightly.

"the fuck are you doin' out here?" chris snapped, his voice sharp as he turned to see you standing a few feet away, arms crossed.

"you looked tense," you said simply, your tone laced with a mix of concern and defiance.

jay's eyes flicked between the two of you, a smirk curling at his lips. "this your girl?"

chris didn't answer. instead, he took a step closer to jay, the weight of his presence enough to wipe the smirk clean off his face.

"y’got what i came for or not?" chris asked, his tone steady but dangerous.

jay swallowed, nodding quickly. "yeah, yeah, it's all here. clean, like you asked."

chris reached out, grabbing the bag with one hand, his other still hovering close to his waistband as he gave jay a look that said ‘don't make me regret this.’

"count it," you murmured from behind him, earning a sharp glance from chris.

"she always this mouthy?" jay asked, chuckling as he rubbed the scruff on his chin.

"watch y’self," chris said, his voice low and cold. you bit back a smirk as chris opened the bag, rifling through its contents with a practiced eye. satisfied, he zipped it up and tossed it over his shoulder.

"we out," he said to you, turning back toward the car. jay opened his mouth to say something else, but one look from chris had him thinking better of it.

as you followed chris back to the range rover, he grabbed your waist, pulling you close.

"what part of stay in the car didn't you understand?" he asked, his voice a quiet growl.

"the part where i saw your jaw clench like you were two seconds from airing this bitch out," you shot back, shrugging as you slid into the passenger seat.

chris huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he started the car. "hard-headed ass," he muttered, glancing over at you.

you buckled your seatbelt, leaning back as the range rover rolled onto the main road. "we getting food? chilli's is right down the road."

chris glanced over, one hand resting on the wheel. "chilli's?" he repeated, eyebrows raised.

"yeah, chilli's. a triple dipper sound’ real good right now," you said, trying to keep a straight face.

he let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "you don't listen, you stress me the fuck out, and now y’want chilli's?" he said, lips curving into a smirk. "runnin’ my pockets, man."

“problem?” you smirked back, crossing your arms. "u-turn this bitch around, i’ll go ask your fr—”

the car halts to a sudden stop at the green light, your words making chris look over at you with a raise of his brow.

"lil’ girl," he said, a playful warning in his tone, but the smile tugging at his mouth told you he didn't mean it. his hand reaching to wrap around the back of your neck. “keep playin’ with me ‘n watch where it get’ you.”

you could only smile, your eyes searching over his face with amusement.

“lights green,” you murmur, smirking as he lets out a low hum, his eyes narrowing. his hand slowly loosening on your neck though he still kept it there.

brrrrrrrrrrrrt. the sound of someone honking their car horn drawled out making chris eyes advert yours and calmly shift to the rear view.

pressing his hand down onto the steering wheel, he honked back, his foot resting on the break like he wasn’t holding up traffic.

“chris,” you murmur, letting out a small breath of a laugh as you knew how petty he could get with road rage. “go.”

he smirked, watching the traffic light switch to yellow as more cars began to honk from behind.

“i’m good,” he replied, resting his hand on his lap as he looked ahead.

“i’ll give you head.” you counteroffer, a smirk tugging on your lips as you watch him turn his gaze back towards you, his foot pressing down heavy on the gas, making the car drive forward.

running the red light, the engine purring as he zoomed down the road. his hand steady on the wheel as his other shuffled on his lap, undoing his belt.

you scoff, unbuckling your seatbelt as he motioned you closer with his hand in a beckoning motion. “now?” you questioned teasingly, looking him up and down, though you were very much with it.

“hell yeah now, girl…” he scoffed, smirking. “better put in work for that triple dipper.”

@ sosasturns

sosas 💬’s : another addition to the shoota!chris n bottle girl!reader au! want more? sound off in my inbox! requests r open

“sosa mafia” taglist: @submattenthusiast @sophand4n4 @secretlocket @mrsdillonx @ch6rm @sweetrelieef @gabri3la-sturns @inspiredangel @sturn777 @et6rnalsun @faiyaz555 @whore4mattsturniolo @courta13 @katie-tibo @ifwdominicfike

[startheskelaton]

Hey, just saw that Pokemon post and it got me thinking, what Pokemon would Nightflyer and Soundblaster would have.

For Nightflyer, I would see him have a flying and part dragon team that gives off a menacing look at first glance.

Shiny Charizard: Given to him as a child from Starscream as a gift since it was a shiny, Predaking also likes the way they look.

Noivern: While exploring a cave on Earth he could a Noibat being loud, he mimicked it's yelling so it started to follow him around for a while, liking the little guy he catches it.

Honchkrow: Nightflyer encountered a starving Murkrow, feeding some food the Murkrow started falling around before ending up not putting itself in the pokeball.

Shiny Gyarados: Nightflyer was just fishing one day before ending up catching a shiny Magikarp thinking it looked cool.

Aerodactyl: One day he found Old Amber, curious about the substance he brought it to a lab where it was revived into an Aerodactyl.

Chatot: He heard singing one day while wondering the woods and encountered the singing Pokemon, repeating in lyrics from music it heard you mean we ran up to it and shot the pokeball right at it's face. Upon being asked by Starscream why he caught it Nightflyer claims it's so that he can have it spy on people and repeat what they talk about.

Now as for Soundblaster maybe you'd have primarily pokémon that are either just ignored or abandoned by others. Though he does train his Pokemon little too intensely, he does see Nightflyer as a rival.

Technically Rotom (Okay it is a Rotom Pokedex): A Rotom Soundblaster encountered as a child in Shockwave's lab that he found useless and a burden he takes in and uses the Electric ghost Pokemon as a companion even building them a Pokedex body that Transformers into a G1 styled Laserbeak-lime body. Though he does treat it more as a minion than as a friend at times, he also regrets not installing a mute button.

Venusaur: The first Pokemon he really owns he found an abandoned Bulbasaur in the middle of nowhere he takes it in and trains it to take down Nightflyer's Pokemon.

Bannette: Finding an abandoned toy it held a dark secret, a Bannette filled with malice, understanding its anger and sadness he adds it to his team, it mainly stays in his shadow rather than it's Pokeball.

Porygon Z: One day when working on a computer he encounters what he thought to be a virus but it was actually Porygon, why he caught it is up to debate.

Milotic: While he was surveying the lake thinking it would be a good location for a secret base, he entered the water to find a Feebas, after learning its Pokedex entree of it being ignored by most of the world he of course catches it, after evolving it others offer to trade, he kindly tells them to "Frag off"

Mimikyu: It just followed him for weeks like a stalker, he didn't want to catch it at first but thought he could use a deadly Pokemon like Mimikyu.

Crowbat: After exploring a cave for Energon Soundblaster encountered a Zubat that wouldn't stop following he just added it to his team thinking it would be a useful addition.

I changed some of the Pokemon.. sorry. I genuinely can’t imagine Nightflyer have a Charazard.

[uniasus]

Once the official agreement is made, Danny felt the invisible walls disappear. He shot into the sky in relief, but couldn't escape the tug on the tip of his tail and the squeeze on his core.

A magical chain, each link a word of their deal.

The squeeze on his core would get tighter and tighter the longer he didn't fight.

Not that Danny was unwilling to join the battle - he'd never turn away from a group of people who needed his help.

Still, it stung. The magician could have simply asked for his assistance. The combination of confidence and assumption, how he talked about the circle and explained away his age, reminded Danny of his parents. In their unshakable belief that ghosts were creatures of instincts and not rational beings. At least the magician treated him as sentient, but there'd been an edge there. Like he didn't believe a ghost would willingly help humanity. Like he was evil or just selfish.

Danny knew his parents' opinions were common. He faced them every day around the dinner table, but it still hurt coming across heroes who believed the same.

The bind on his core tightened. Danny turned his attention to the battle below. There were no fleeing civilians, already cleared out or crushed. Instead, the streets and sky swarmed with ghostly skeletons and brightly colored heroes. There were a lot more heroes fighting than Danny had ever seen, but most of them struggled against enemies that could turn intangible at will. Fright Knight laughed as his sword sent a hero dressed like a cowboy to the Nightmare Zone. At least this league of heroes seemed to have developed a strategy of dodge the hits and protect the mages.

Danny turned to Pariah Dark. He moved slow, following Fright Knight and the foreguard of skeletons. Grinning, the ghost ran a gauntlet through a building, glass falling to the street below like a rain of glitter.

Last time they fought, Danny had time and a plan and a team. He could make a plan now - take out Fright Knight who was rapidly diminishing ranks, rally the flying, strong hitting heroes to serve as a distraction - but the bond around his core squeezed again.

He promised to fight Pariah Dark. The sooner the better, because the longer he delayed, the more he'd risk his core. Soon, the band would be more than just uncomfortable.

Danny swallowed. Took a lungful of air. Looked at the moon, the one celestial object he could see in the late afternoon without squinting.

Clockwork had told him about summoning contracts. Danny knew what would happen as soon as the deal was offered.

He'd fight Pariah without his friends. Without the help of other ghosts. Without the ecto-skeleton suit. Without the Sarcophagus and Key nearby to lock him away again.

He'd fight, and he'd lose.

Dying in a ghost fight is a fear he faces before. He'd take it, took it, in a heartbeat over being trapped by someone who couldn't see the good in him.

Danny called ectoplasm to his fist and prepared to slam it into Pariah's face.

Vaguely inspired by that one post where Danny gets summoned by the JL and keeps throwing his shoes and stuff at them bc HE might not be able to leave the summoning circle but his clothes sure can!

I think the twist for that was that the circle doesnt effect him at all because hes a halfa and he was just goofing with the JL.

But imagine if the summoning and containment WORKED.

Like, he gets summoned and its startling, but once he realizes hes been summoned hes mostly annoyed.

Its a school night! He has work to do! Sure he wasnt DOING it, but it was still a possibility!

And hes trying to banter with the JL. Which for him just means being vaguely-obnoxious-but-somewhat-charming.

But then he tries to leave.

Maybe hes worried about his friends reaction to seeing him disappear.

Maybe the JL are saying some anti ghost/demon/whatever they think he is nonsense.

Maybe he changed his mind about doing that homework.

But either way, it doesnt work.

He drags his hand along the edge of the spell. It doesnt give, and he realizes hes not sure what this spell is supposed to do.

Its all along the floor beneth him, he cant fly through the floor.

He tries to get away from the walls and floor, worried whatever spell makes up the container can be triggered to hurt him or brainwash him or SOMETHING.

Its not his best guest, but he has never been summoned before, at least not with this type of barrier, and he doesnt know what to expect.

He barely gets a few feet off the ground when he hits the spells invisible roof.

And he is trapped.

And now this fourteen year old child is caged in a room with clearly dangerous adult strangers.

After hes been more or less kidnapped.

He’s suddenly regretting insulting them.

And its not his first time beimg kidnapped. Or his first time being in danger in general (obviously).

but its usually some ghost! Or Vlad “Loser, I hardly know her!” Masters!

Both of whom explain literally everything they plan in long ass evil monologues! It usually takes danny five minutes tops to learn their entire life story Dr Doofenshmirtz style!

He knows most of them personally! They hang out sometimes! Heck! even the local ghost hunters are either literally related to him or someone he’s dated!

He knows their powersets, their strengths, their weaknesses.

Most importantly, he knows their goals

But now hes trapped. In a room of clearly superpowerd strangers. With magical abilities strong enough to trap him for real.

And has no idea what they want

And Danny just freezes up

This could be super angsty if the JL were told that he was evil and think his panic + young features are only done to manipulate them.

You can also add angst with a language barrier/translation issue

I imagine the JL would be trying to get information about ghosts/ are trying to get someone to fight a villain they can’t defeat

Its going to scare the shit out of Danny either way- like imagine fourteen year old you gets kidnapped by strangers and they start asking you about your weaknesses or say they will only let you out if you agree to fight this monster.

And if Danny doesnt know this villain or how tf hes going to fight them he might feel like hes being sent off to get his ass kicked.

I can just imagine Danny being told he has to fight this supervillain and being like “…if i like..die…trying to fight this guy…what are you going to do with my body? Like will you send me home? Cause my family will freak if my corpse is teleported into the living room”

JL would not be happy about any of his responses.

Im begging someone to write this please have a nice day

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Ulterior Motives

Another lil one shot inspired by this gorgeous work by @tamayula-hl

Summary: A confrontation in Feldcroft shatters trust and friendship as you discover the truth behind Sebastian's intentions.

Words: ~4,600

Tags: Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Hurt/No Comfort, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House

The flickering flames in the common room hearth cast long shadows across the walls as you carefully adjusted your scarf. Spring had crept into the Scottish Highlands, but the chill in the air still lingered, especially in the evenings. You glanced at the ornate mirror hanging beside the fireplace, smoothing your hair before securing the clasp of your traveling cloak.

You hadn’t intended to go to Feldcroft today. In fact, when Sebastian and Ominis had extended the invitation at breakfast, you’d politely declined, citing a looming essay on magical theory and a commitment to help Professor Garlick in the greenhouses. But as the day wore on, you found yourself finishing your work earlier than expected, and a restless energy took hold of you. Something about Sebastian’s insistence that you visit—that you speak with Anne again, see the little hamlet he so often spoke of with both warmth and bitterness—lingered in your mind.

You had grown close to Sebastian and Ominis in the months since your arrival at Hogwarts. Starting as a fifth year had been daunting enough, and the peculiar circumstances surrounding your ancient magic hadn’t made it easier. But Sebastian had been there from the start, a whirlwind of charm and relentless curiosity that had drawn you in despite yourself. He had a way of making you feel seen, even when you wanted to disappear, his easy confidence filling the spaces where your own uncertainty crept in.

Ominis had been slower to warm to you, his initial reserve bordering on coldness. But once he decided you weren’t a threat—or worse, an enabler for Sebastian’s more reckless tendencies—he’d become a steady presence in your life. His dry humor and razor-sharp insights often caught you off guard, but you found them strangely comforting. Together, the three of you had fallen into an easy camaraderie, one that felt as though it had always existed.

Still, you couldn’t deny that your connection to Sebastian was… different. It wasn’t just his dark eyes, which seemed to spark with mischief whenever they met yours, or the way his voice softened when he spoke to you. There was something deeper, something unspoken, that pulled you toward him despite the warnings you’d occasionally catch in Ominis’ tone.

The crackle of the fire snapped you out of your thoughts. You stepped closer to the hearth, gripping the small pouch of Floo Powder in your hand. The common room was empty now, the other students likely still at dinner. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should have sent word ahead. But Sebastian had always been insistent that you were welcome, no matter the hour.

Taking a deep breath, you tossed the powder into the flames and watched as the fire roared to life, shifting to an otherworldly green. “Feldcroft,” you said firmly, stepping into the flames.

The familiar sensation of being pulled through space and time left you slightly dizzy, but you quickly steadied yourself as you stumbled out into the village, the faint smell of wood smoke and blooming wildflowers filling the air. The setting sun bathed the small hamlet in orange light, casting long shadows across the uneven cobblestone paths. You straightened your cloak, brushing off a few specks of ash, and began making your way toward the Sallow cottage, your steps hesitant yet resolute.

As you approached the house, voices carried through the open window. You froze, recognizing Ominis’s measured tones, though they were sharper than usual, laced with frustration.

“This isn’t right, Sebastian,” Ominis was saying. “She trusts you. Do you have any idea what you’re risking?”

Sebastian’s voice came next, low and urgent. “Of course I know. But this is Anne, we're talking about. I can’t just stand by and do nothing.”

“And using her?” Ominis shot back. “That's your solution? Even after all she's done for you, you're still choosing to manipulate her?”

Sebastian’s response was immediate, but there was a tremor in his voice that betrayed his desperation. “You didn’t see what I saw, Ominis! In Isidora’s memory—she took pain, real pain, and removed it. Don’t you understand what that means? If Isidora could do it, then maybe… maybe she can do it for Anne too. Isn’t it worth trying?”

Ominis’s sharp intake of breath was audible, his frustration mounting. “Don't start trying to manipulate me, too, Sebastian. I know all about that damned memory, and you know as well as I do that what Isidora did was wrong! You saw what it led to—the suffering, the corruption. And yet you still choose to gamble with her trust for something that might not even work.”

“It’s not like I haven’t thought about that!” Sebastian snapped, his voice tinged with both anger and anguish. “You think I don’t know what I’m risking? I can’t just… I can’t lose Anne, Ominis. If there’s even a chance this could help her, how can I not take it? You don’t know what it’s like to feel this helpless, to watch someone you love suffer and not be able to do a damn thing about it!”

“And her?” Ominis pressed, his tone growing quieter but no less firm. “What about her? Have you even considered what this will do to her, how she’ll feel when she realizes what you’ve done? Because she will, Sebastian. She’s not stupid.”

Sebastian hesitated, the silence stretching painfully long. “Yes. Yes of course I... I've thought about it. But Anne is my sister.”

The voices inside the house dissolved into an indistinct murmur, overtaken by the thunderous rush of blood in your ears. You stood motionless, rooted to the cobblestone path as though an invisible hex anchored you in place. The light of the setting sun bathed Feldcroft in warmth, but it couldn’t touch the cold that had settled deep within you, chilling you to the core.

Manipulate her.

The phrase looped in your mind, a discordant refrain that unraveled the web of trust you’d woven around Sebastian.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat refusing to budge as your thoughts spun wildly. The way Sebastian had drawn you into his orbit from the moment you arrived at Hogwarts—it had felt so genuine, so natural. You'd always believed his persistence, the way he nudged you into his plans and centered you in his life, was an expression of friendship. Maybe even something more.

But now... now you were left with a single, unshakable question: Had any of it been real? How much of it had been Sebastian pulling strings, steering you toward some grand purpose only he could justify?

Your thoughts turned inward, replaying memories that had once made you feel cherished, needed, important. Like the day he’d coaxed you into sneaking into the Restricted Section. How he’d insisted you were the only one he could trust, leaning in with that boyish grin that made it impossible to refuse.

The time you’d followed him to the Scriptorium to retrieve that relic he claimed could help Anne. You’d braved dark magic at his side, not because you thought it was wise—Merlin knew Ominis had tried to stop you—but because he’d asked. Because you’d seen the desperation in his eyes, the way his hands shook when he talked about his sister, and you hadn’t been able to deny him.

And those moments, between the chaos of his schemes, when he’d made you feel like the only person in the world who could understand him. The only person who mattered. The way he’d linger just a little too long after Crossed Wands, brushing his hand against yours as he handed back your wand. The late nights in the Undercroft, the firelight catching in his dark eyes as he spoke of dreams and fears he’d never share with anyone else.

You’d believed him. Believed in him. Believed those moments mattered. But now, the cracks in those memories began to show.

The way Sebastian had pushed you to use your ancient magic—not just once, but time and again, under the guise of curiosity, necessity, or friendship. His playful persistence in urging you to master it, to test its limits. Back then, it had felt like encouragement, like he believed in you in a way no one else did.

Yet with the truth laid bare, that tenacity no longer seemed so innocent.

You pressed yourself against the wall of the cottage, the rough stone digging into your palms as you fought to steady your breathing. Every instinct screamed at you to leave, to turn back and retreat to the safety of Hogwarts where this truth could be shoved into the farthest corner of your mind. But your feet refused to move. You had to hear what else they would say.

“She’s not just some pawn, Ominis!" Sebastian's voice rose again. "I care about her. You know I do. If it were anyone else who could help Anne, I’d ask them, but it’s not—it’s her. She’s the only one who can do this.”

Ominis scoffed. “You can’t care about someone and treat them like this, Sebastian.”

“And what would you have me do?” Sebastian’s voice cracked, the weight of his desperation pressing into every syllable. "You didn’t see what Anne was like last week. She couldn’t even get out of bed. I won’t just sit back and watch her waste away!”

“And what about her?” Ominis shot back, his voice rising. “What about her life? What if your gamble ruins her? You saw what ancient magic did to Isidora—it consumed her, twisted her into something monstrous. What makes you think this will be any different?”

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of Ominis’s words settling over everything. Even the soft chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of the wind seemed to fade into nothingness. You bit your lip, hard enough to sting, your thoughts a tangled mess of betrayal, confusion, and something darker—anger.

When Sebastian finally spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost pleading. “She’s stronger than Isidora. She’s… she’s different. I wouldn’t let it come to that, Ominis. I won’t.”

The certainty in his voice made your stomach churn. He believed in you, yes—but not in the way you’d hoped. He believed in what you could do for him.

“You say that,” Ominis countered bitterly, his voice weighted with sorrow. “But you can’t promise it. You have no control over what her magic will do to her. These are just empty words—excuses you’re using to justify your actions.”

Sebastian didn’t answer right away, the silence stretching unbearably. You could imagine him standing there, jaw tight, his hands probably clenched into fists at his sides. He always did that when he felt cornered, when he didn’t want to admit Ominis might be right.

But this time, Ominis wasn’t just right—he was holding up a mirror.

Finally, Sebastian spoke, his voice low and trembling. “I have to try, Ominis. I have to. If there’s even the slightest chance I can save her, I can’t just—”

“You can’t what?” Ominis interrupted, his tone sharp. “Accept that some things are beyond your control? Let her live her life without sacrificing someone else for your desperation? Merlin’s sake, Sebastian, listen to yourself! You’ve always been so blind when it comes to Anne—so blinded by grief that you can’t see the damage you’re doing to everyone else around you.”

Sebastian’s breath hitched audibly, the crack in his composure painfully clear. “I can’t lose her, Ominis,” he said softly, the words barely audible. “Anne is all I have left.”

Ominis didn’t respond immediately. The air in the room grew heavier, the tension settling like a dense fog. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew why he’d fallen silent. You knew because you felt it too—the sharp, unforgiving sting of Sebastian’s words, cutting through the fragile threads of trust that still tethered you to him.

Anne is all he has left.

As if you didn’t matter. As if Ominis didn’t matter. As if all the time you’d spent by his side—the sleepless nights in the Undercroft, the risks you’d taken, the secrets you’d kept—meant nothing.

A wave of hurt surged through you, so strong it made your knees weak. All this time, you’d thought you were part of something unshakable. You, Ominis, and Sebastian—three against the world—when in reality, were nothing more than a supporting role in Sebastian’s calamity, a tool he wielded to cling to the one thing he truly cared about.

The realization knocked the air from your lungs.

Ominis finally broke the silence, his voice quieter but no less resolute. “So you’ve convinced yourself that we don’t count, that we’re just—what? Background noise to your tragedy? Something to lean on until we’re no longer useful?”

Sebastian turned sharply, his voice defensive. “That’s not fair, Ominis.”

“Isn’t it?” Ominis shot back, the steel in his voice returning. “You just said it yourself, Sebastian. Anne is all you have left. What does that make us?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Sebastian said after a moment, his voice strained. “You know I didn’t.”

Ominis’s laugh was humorless, bitter. “No, Sebastian. I don’t know.”

Sebastian’s eyes darted toward the window, toward the place where you stood hidden just out of sight. For a moment, you thought he’d sensed you, but his gaze quickly returned to Ominis.

“You’re twisting my words,” he said, his voice thick with frustration. “I didn’t mean that you don’t matter. Of course, you matter. Both of you. You’re my best friends.”

The words should have brought comfort, but they didn’t. They felt hollow, like an afterthought hastily spoken to fill a void. Because no matter what he said now, the truth had already been laid bare.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight as you fought back the tears threatening to spill. It was too much. Too much to hear, too much to feel, too much to bear.

And then your gaze flickered to the window, where you knew Ominis stood just inside, facing Sebastian alone. Ominis—your steadfast, sharp-witted, infuriatingly honest best friend. The one who had been with you through all of this. The one who had seen what you were only now starting to comprehend.

He was hurting too. You could feel it in the tension in his voice, the bitter edge to his words, the way he seemed to waver between fighting for Sebastian and fighting against him.

And you’d be damned if you let him face this alone.

A surge of anger rose in you, hot and unrelenting, overtaking the hurt that had threatened to paralyze you. You pushed off the wall and stormed toward the door, your footsteps heavy against the cobblestones. The wooden door creaked as you shoved it open, and the tension in the room hit you like a physical force.

Sebastian’s head snapped toward you, his dark eyes widening in immediate panic. “You—” he started, but the words caught in his throat, his face blanching as if he’d seen a ghost.

Ominis’s head turned sharply in your direction, his expression oscillating between vindication and sorrow. His pale eyes, though unseeing, seemed to pierce straight through you, as if he already knew exactly how much you’d heard.

Your gaze didn’t linger on Ominis for long, though. You closed the distance between yourself and Sebastian in two quick steps, your eyes blazing with a fury he’d never seen from you before. He flinched, his shoulders tensing as he took an involuntary step back. “I—”

“No,” you interrupted, your tone sharp and unwavering, cutting through the tension like a blade. “You’ve done enough talking. It’s my turn now.” You took a steadying breath, your hands clenching at your sides as you fought to keep your voice steady, though the storm inside you threatened to spill over. “I trusted you, Sebastian. I trusted you.” The weight of your own words crashed down on you as they left your lips, tightening the knot in your throat. “Do you even understand what that means? What it feels like to trust someone with everything, only to realize they’ve been lying to you the whole time?”

His mouth opened and closed, but no words came. His dark eyes, so often full of mischief or defiance, were wide with panic, darting between you and Ominis as though seeking some kind of escape.

“I followed you,” you continued, your voice trembling now, though it didn’t lose its edge. “Every time you asked—no, every time you pushed me to do something, I followed. Because I believed you. I believed you cared about me, that we were in this together. But now…” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to continue. “Now I find out that all of it—every risk I took, every time I used my magic, every secret I kept—it was all for Anne. Not us. Not even you. Just her.”

Sebastian’s lips parted, but his voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, isn’t it?” You let out a humorless laugh, the sound bitter and sharp. “What part of it isn’t like that, Sebastian? The part where you pulled me into every reckless scheme you could come up with? The part where you made me think it was about trust, about friendship, when all along you were just using me? Or maybe the part where you’ve decided to gamble with my life?!"

“Stop,” Sebastian said, his voice tight with desperation, his hands raised as if to calm you. “It’s not like that. I care about you—I care about you so much. That’s why—”

“You care about me?” you interrupted, your voice rising. “You care about me so much that you’ve spent months lying to me, manipulating me, pushing me into situations that could have killed me?” You stepped closer, the anger burning hotter now, fueled by the tremor in his voice that betrayed just how much of your accusation was true. “You think that’s care, Sebastian? You think that’s what Anne would want?”

Sebastian froze, his expression crumpling as your words struck their mark. He opened his mouth, then closed it, his hands falling limply to his sides. For a moment, he looked utterly lost, as though the weight of his actions had only just begun to dawn on him.

“I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know what else to do. I thought—”

“You didn’t think about me at all," you interrupted coldly. "And you didn't think about Ominis either. But I guess that tracks since Anne's the only thing you have left, right?

Sebastian shook his head, his voice trembling. “That’s not true. You’re not just—”

“Don’t lie to me."

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your words settling over all three of you. Sebastian stood there, his face pale, his eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came.

You took a step back, your chest heaving as you tried to steady your breathing. “I don’t even know who you are anymore, Sebastian. Honestly... I don't think I ever did." You laughed, a hollow, bitter sound that echoed through the tense room. "And I don’t think you know anymore, either.”

A tear slipped down his cheek, and he took a hesitant step toward you. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry.”

But you stepped back, keeping the distance between you. “Bullshit."

The room fell silent again, the air heavy with the weight of everything that had been said—and everything that hadn’t. You turned to Ominis, who had remained quiet throughout the exchange, his pale eyes fixed on some distant point. He looked tired, his usual sharpness dulled by the tension hanging over the three of you.

“I’m leaving,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you.

Ominis gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. “I’ll walk you to the Floo,” he offered, his tone gentle.

Sebastian took a step forward, his hand reaching out as if to stop you. “Wait—”

"Leave me alone, Sebastian. We're done."

He froze, his outstretched hand faltering mid-air as your words landed like a physical blow. The look in his eyes—desperation, disbelief, pain—should have softened you. Before, it would have. But now, it only fueled the anger and hurt simmering inside you.

“You don’t mean that,” he said, his voice breaking, trembling with raw emotion. “You can’t.”

You turned to face him fully. “I do. I do I mean it. I can’t keep doing this, Sebastian. I can’t keep letting you drag me into your schemes, making me feel like I matter to you, only to find out I’m just... convenient.”

“You’re not convenient,” he insisted, his voice rising, his fists clenching at his sides. “You’re everything to me. Don’t you see that?”

You laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and hollow. “Obviously I'm not. I'm just the person you need to save Anne.”

His face crumpled, and for a moment, you thought he might fall apart entirely. But you didn’t wait for him to respond. You turned on your heel, your steps resolute as you headed for the door. Ominis followed quietly.

Sebastian’s voice cracked behind you, desperate and pleading. “Please don’t do this. Please don’t walk away.”

You paused, your hand on the doorframe, your heart aching even as your anger burned bright. Without turning around, you spoke, your voice steady but laced with the pain you could no longer hide.

“You only care that I'm walking away because you’re losing control. This isn’t about me, Sebastian. It’s never been about me. It’s about you. What you want, what you think you need, and what you’re willing to sacrifice to get it."

Sebastian’s sharp intake of breath behind you was the only sound in the room, but you didn’t turn to see the devastation you knew was etched across his face. You couldn’t. If you saw it—if you saw the brokenness in his eyes, the tears trailing down his cheeks—it might undo you completely. And you couldn’t afford that.

You felt a gentle touch, Ominis’s hand brushing against yours. His silent offer of support was steady, grounding, and you took it, intertwining your fingers with his.

Wordlessly, you walked out of the house together, the cool night air biting against your skin. The quiet surrounded you as you made your way down the cobblestone path, your footsteps the only sound breaking the stillness. Ominis didn’t speak, but his presence was a comfort, his hand still firmly clasping yours.

It wasn’t until you reached the Floo station that the weight of it all finally hit you. The anger that had kept you upright, the fire that had propelled you forward, began to crumble under the sheer weight of the betrayal, the heartbreak, and the loss. Your shoulders trembled, and you drew in a shaky breath, the tears that had been threatening finally spilling over.

Ominis pulled you into his arms, his embrace firm and protective, even as you felt his own shoulders shake faintly. He was hurting too; you could feel it in the way his breath hitched, the way his head rested against yours for a moment as if he, too, was seeking solace.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out between sobs, unsure if you were apologizing to him, to yourself, or to the remnants of what you’d lost.

Ominis shook his head gently, his voice steady despite the emotion lacing it. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault," he inhaled slowly. "I should have told you sooner. I... I'm sorry, I thought I could fix it." His arms tightened around you as if trying to shield you from the storm you were both caught in. “I thought I could stop him before it got this far. Before it hurt you.”

You shook your head against his shoulder, your voice muffled but insistent. “It’s not your fault, Ominis. You tried. You always try.” You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his pale, unseeing eyes, which were glassy with unshed tears. "You can’t take the blame for what he chose to do.”

After some time, Ominis gently released you, his hands lingering on your shoulders as he straightened up. His thumbs brushed across your cheeks, wiping away the tears that clung to your skin.

“Now what?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with equal parts uncertainty and exhaustion.

You shook your head, your throat tightening again as you struggled to form an answer. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what comes next."

Ominis nodded. He seemed to weigh his words carefully before speaking again. “Back to Hogwarts, then?”

You hesitated, glancing toward the Floo behind you. “Yeah." You paused, looking at him more closely. “Are you coming with me?”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze dropping slightly as he shifted his weight. Finally, he shook his head. “No,” he said quietly, his voice firm despite the tremor of emotion in it. “Not yet.”

“Why?” you asked, your brow furrowing in confusion. “You don’t have to stay, Ominis. You don’t owe him anything.”

“I’m not staying for him,” Ominis replied, his voice steadier now. He glanced toward the direction of the Sallow cottage, his expression softening with something you couldn’t quite place. “Anne will be home soon—with Solomon. She’s... she’s innocent in all of this. She doesn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of what Sebastian has done. She’s been through enough.”

Your heart ached at his words, the quiet truth of them cutting through the haze of your own pain. Anne. Of course. For all of Sebastian’s manipulations, for all the hurt he had caused, she was the one who bore the weight of his desperation. And she hadn’t asked for any of it.

“She doesn’t know, does she?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

Ominis shook his head again, his jaw tightening. “No. But I don’t think I can leave without making sure she’s okay.” He exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging slightly. “I owe her that much.”

“I understand,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. “She’s lucky to have you.”

His lips quirked into a faint, bittersweet smile, though the sadness in his expression didn’t fade. "I'll see you tomorrow. We... we'll figure things out."

You nodded slowly, your grip tightening briefly on his hand before you let go, the warmth of his touch still grounding you.

“Tomorrow,” you echoed softly, though the thought of facing all of this again made your chest tighten.

Ominis gave a small nod, his pale eyes unfocused but heavy with emotion. “Get some rest,” he murmured, his voice gentle but firm. “You’ve been through enough for one day.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him that he’d been through just as much—if not more—but the exhaustion in his voice silenced you. Instead, you reached up and placed a hand lightly on his arm, offering a silent promise that you’d be okay. Or at least, that you’d try to be.

“You too,” you said quietly, your voice faltering slightly.

With a deep breath, you turned toward the Floo. The weight in your chest hadn’t lifted, but Ominis’s quiet resolve gave you a flicker of hope—hope that, somehow, you’d both make it through this.

[blackmoonowl]

prompt 27 with mammon if i may

"𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦!"

ꨄ Pairing: Mammon x reader

ꨄ Summary: Jealous Mammon hours.

ꨄ Word Count: 1302 words

Mammon could give Leviathan a run for his money when it came to jealousy. Well, over you, anyway.

So, when he had the chance to pull you away to an event, just together, he took it without thinking. The avatar of Greed knocked on your door multiple times.

"Oi, human!" The demon called out, opening the door without waiting for a reply. You had just gotten ready when he practically burst through the door.

"Yeah, yeah." You grumbled as you put on your shoes, walking over to him. "So, what's the big deal, you're going out to gamble again and need a cover from Lucifer?"

"Oi, I don't need a human protectin' me from Lucifer. The great Mammon does just fine on his own!" Mammon's cheeks heated up as he huffed, averting his gaze. "We're goin' out on the town, you and me."

"So, you earned some money with your schemes?" You teased, giving him a little nudge as you followed him out into the hall. Mammon rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, shrugging off your comment. He had to get you out of the house without his brothers noticing. Luckily, he had taken care of it already. Sneaking out wouldn't be the hard part.

"Say what ya want, but the Great Mammon invited you, and ya can't say no! Now c'mon before the others find out we're goin' out. I ain't in the mood to have 'em tag along."

"Where are we even going?" You questioned as Mammon kept his eyes peeled, tuned into the silence around the house.

"I ain't tellin', it's a surprise," was all you got as a reply from him. Mammon unlocked the front door, ushering you out before following you and shutting the door again, Mission successful, he had you all to himself tonight.

Although it was always dark in the Devildom, the nights were much darker. Your footsteps sounded steady next to his. Despite the lack of light, Mammon still wore his sunglasses, his eyes safely hidden behind them. He had mustered up the courage to demand you hold his hand, so you wouldn't get lost. Mammon knew you didn't buy that excuse; you had been to the Devildom quite often after all. The avatar of greed swallowed thickly as he glanced down to where your fingers were laced with his. The club he'd been meaning to visit with you wasn't too far away. But with his heart practically beating out of his chest, it felt like forever.

When he finally stepped foot in the building, among the flashing lights and loud music, he nearly felt at home. Demons were drinking, dancing and flirting among each other.

"This is what you wanted to show me?" You questioned, glancing around the space. Mammon stood proud beside you, nodding excitedly.

"Yeah, this place just opened a couple weeks back, figured I might as well show ya," he grinned as he put his arm around your shoulder. "Just you and me, without any of my annoyin' brothers here to bother us."

"I guess it has its charm," you mumbled, your voice barely audible over the music. "I'll give it a shot."

Mammon grinned when you gave in. "I knew ya would cave. I know what you like, bein' your first and all!"

You shot him a look at that comment. You had gotten used to it at this point, but it still caught you off guard every now and then. Mammon didn't seem bothered in the slightest, flashing you a grin before disappearing into the crowd, likely to get the both of you some drinks.

You decided to quickly head to the bathroom, seeing as Mammon would probably keep every second of your time occupied once he came back. It was less crowded there, making you feel more at ease.

Once you exited the bathroom and made your way to the main area, you almost ran into another demon. He looked properly buzzed, a glass of demonus held in his hand. The demon took a moment to stabilize himself, flashing you a grin as you awkwardly walked past him, stumbling over your feet in the commotion.

"Whoa there, easy," he chuckled, leaning on the doorframe for extra support, catching your arm so he could gently hoist you back up. He seemed clearly interested, yet there was no real malicious intent in his demeanour.

"Thanks, sorry about that, didn't see you there," you muttered, slightly embarrassed. The demon shook his head, smiling still.

"Don't sweat it, though I'd like to think I'm hard to miss." He gave you a wink and brushed his hand through his dark hair, causing you to snort slightly. The demon peered at you with narrowed eyes. "Wait a minute... I recognize you. You're that human, aren't ya?"

"In the flesh," you responded, causing him to smile wider. The demon shook his head slightly.

"How'd I not notice that sooner.. lucky me, you're like a celebrity out here," the demon mumbled, looking at his empty cup. "Hey, how about I buy you a drink. Y'know, for peace sake and all that."

You didn't get a chance to respond when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. There stood Mammon, looking like he could just fly at the other demon. Your smile faded; this wasn't going to end well.

"Oi, whaddya think you're doin', this is my human, go get your own!" Were the first words that came out of Mammon's mouth. The demon you had been talking to raised his brow, still leaned on the doorframe.

"Damn, I didn't know humans could be owned, last time I checked you're the one on a leash," the demon grinned. That only seemed to anger Mammon further as he stood right behind you now, allowing you feel his hot breath on your ear.

"Oh now you're really in for it! Don't ya know who I am?" Mammon snapped, placing his hand on your shoulder to try and nudge you aside. Although you were much weaker as a human, you stayed put, pushing back.

The other demon opened his mouth to speak but you shot him a look, and he wisely kept his words to himself. Mammon was still pissed, though. When you wouldn't budge, he hissed.

"Move away from the door and let me at him!" The demon's possessive growl sounded, but you shook your head. By now a few other demons were looking, though none of them were keen to call attention to themselves when it came to one of the seven rulers of the underworld.

"Don't make me use the pact," you gritted your teeth at Mammon, causing the demon to finally relent. With one final death glare at the other demon, he pulled you with him. You showed the demon an apologetic smile as you went.

"What was that for?" you huffed at the demon as the two of you stepped outside. Mammon didn't seem remorseful in the least, crossing his arms.

"What do ya mean? He was eyein' you like a piece of candy, what was I supposed to do?" Mammon grumbled, and you sighed.

"No need to be so jealous, Mammon, you'll still always be my favorite demon." you replied, ruffling the demons hair, who gently swatted your hand away, rolling his eyes, although he couldn't feel the fuzzy feeling welling up in him.

"I better be," he mumbled, causing you to crack a slightly smile, tilting your head to the side.

"Night's still young, why don't we spend more time together?" you offered. "Y'know, to show you there's nothing to be jealous of."

Mammon pursed his lips, seemingly thinking. But you both knew he was going to take the chance without hesitation, he always did. A small grin appeared on his face.

"Damn right we will, c'mon. I know another place."

𓅓 Masterpost

𓅓 Consider supporting me! (Ko-fi)

[faithisyours]

Basement Hangout

Vi X Fem!Reader

Chapter 4 of The List

Previous chapters can be found here

Summary: you (along with your mutual friends) surprise Vi with a basement hangout. Shenanigans ensue.

cw: timebomb, melvika, and jayvik included, Caitlyn is also here, Claggor and Mylo mentioned, some other supporting cast appearances, light smut, fingering, some dirty talk, alcohol consumption, smut while slightly intoxicated, Vi’s more dominant in this one, kinda choking but not really, some fluff, I think that’s it.

Word count: 3.3k

an: Hello little gay people in my phone! I give you chapter 4, hope you enjoy it, this one fought me the entire way. Sorry for such a long wait, I just got back to college, which will probably continue to alter the pace at which I post these, but I do plan on continuing to post, although my pace may slow. I’m also predicting a couple caitvi fics in my future, so be on the lookout for those. If you want to see anything specific in this fic, or be added to the tag list, let me know! And as always, men and minors dni.

“M’ so fucking cold, is he incapable of answering his door in a timely manner?” Vi huffed. You and your girlfriend stood waiting outside on the steps of Ekko’s house. It was now full blown winter, and was, in fact, actively snowing as you stood there.

It had been over a month since you and Vi made that blanket fort in the living room of your shared apartment, the last thing you had done off the list. Between work, holidays, and overall life in general, you both hadn’t gotten to cross any more things off it, but on the bright side, Vi had finally shared the list in its entirety with you. And it was long. A lot of the things were season specific, such as camping, but many were not, like the one you were surprising Vi with tonight.

“I don't understand why we couldn't have just picked this stuff up tomorrow. We’re freezing our asses off for nothing,” Vi continued with her complaining.

“Ekko asked nicely, so we’ll just get this over with and then we can go home, alright?” you soothed. Of course, this was all a ruse to get Vi over here, and hopefully she would feel differently when the surprise was revealed. When you had read over the list, the idea of a “basement hangout” had burrowed its way into your head and would not leave. So, you decided to band all your friends together to help surprise Vi. Ekko had been the one to offer his place as the setting, considering he was the only one with a finished basement. The trickiest part was getting Vi over here without having her get suspicious. You had Ekko call you while you were in front of Vi to ask if the two of you could come over to pick some things up left over from the holiday party he had. Vi was not happy about it, but she’d do basically anything for a lifelong friend, so here you stood. And, safe to say, Vi was too cold to be suspicious, if she ever was to begin with.

At that moment, you heard the sound of a lock sliding back, and then the door swung open, revealing Ekko, who was dressed in black sweatpants and a dark olive-green sweatshirt.

“Come in, come in.” Ekko ushered you both inside. Vi hurriedly marched indoors first, giving Ekko a somewhat pointed look when passing him. “It’s just down in the basement, I’ll show you where.”

He shot you a wink while Vi wasn’t looking, then led you both down the stairs to the basement. It was warm down there, string lights hung against the walls and wrapped around the exposed beams on the ceiling, but other than that, it was completely dark.

“It’s just over here…” Ekko said, pointing vaguely around the bend of the stairs. He turned on a floor lamp, drenching the room in light, and simultaneously people jumped out from behind the couch, from the closet, from around the corner, and yelled “Surprise!” Vi turned to you, a shocked look on her face. You just gave her a smile, shoving her shoulder lightly with yours.

“Surprise,” you said, grinning at her and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“But it’s not my birthday,” Vi countered incredulously, like that was the only time surprising her was acceptable.

“I know. This is from the list, a ‘basement hangout’ if I remember correctly,” you said. She hummed in response, then, abruptly, gave you a rather salacious kiss that caught you off guard and had your friends either groaning out ew’s or whistling low. You pulled away breathless, a blush creeping up your cheeks, and Vi gave you the cheekiest grin of all time.

After recovering from that, you turned your attention to your friends, who were already getting the party started by pouring drinks and playing music through the surround-sound speakers. And it really was appropriate to say party, considering how many of your mutual friends had shown up. There was Ekko, of course, and Jinx, as well as Caitlyn, Viktor, Jayce, Mel, Sevika, Lest, Maddie, Claggor, Mylo, Scar, and Steb. Maybe you had overdone it with the invitations, and it no longer resembled a chill hangout with friends, but everyone seemed to be having a good time, so you supposed it didn’t really matter.

You and Vi, stripped of your coats, took your time saying hello to everyone, but only after you got drinks in your hands. You got a malibu cranberry, while Vi got a vodka redbull. Settling down on one of the couches, Vi wrapped her arm around you and leaned back. It was almost comical the way your position mirrored the other couples in attendance: Mel and Sevika were sitting on the adjacent couch, Mel basically in Sev’s lap, while Jayce and Viktor were occupying an armchair, Jayce in the chair while Viktor propped himself on the arm. And then there was Ekko and Jinx, who were sitting on the same couch as you and Vi, but where Ekko sat normally, Jinx sat perched on the back of the couch behind him. Your uncoupled friends dotted the rest of the room, either sitting or standing in semi-circles talking with one another.

“Beer pong, anyone?” Jayce asked, pointing to the empty table near the hallway.

“I’ll play,” Viktor answered.

“So will I,” Jinx volunteered.

“Either of you want to play?” Viktor asked when no one else said anything, pointing towards you and Vi.

“I’ll just watch this first round,” you said, giving Viktor a smile.

“And I’m gonna stay with my girl a while longer,” Vi answered, subconsciously pulling you closer to her. You blushed slightly, always going a little red when Vi called you her girl. It didn’t matter that you had been together for years, you were still going to blush. But what you were also going to do was blame it on the alcohol.

“Alright, I’ll play,” Ekko said, shooting you both an exasperated look.

The two couples rose from their seats and made their way towards the table. Jayce and Ekko occupied one end, while Jinx and Viktor stood at the other. And soon enough, ping pong balls began bouncing back and forth. The table was at a good angle and distance away to where you could watch them play and still contribute to the conversation, but could also tune it out or have a separate conversation with Vi and the others sitting down around you.

You sipped on your drink, already half downed, and did your best to pay attention to your friends playing, but your girlfriend was making it increasingly difficult to focus. The hand that was not holding her drink was around your waist, drawing lazy patterns there and working together with the alcohol to heat your skin. You fidgeted, squirming slightly in Vi’s grip, which only made her grasp on you tighter.

“So I heard about this list…” Mel said, pulling your attention away from the beer pong and towards where she and Sev sat on the couch next to yours. “What is it exactly?”

“Oh, well, um…” you tried to find a decent explanation without having to explain the ‘why’ part of it, but Vi beat you to it.

“It’s a list of things we both have never done and want to do,” she said simply.

“So, like a bucket list?” Sevika interjected.

“Kinda, but more to the tune of stupid teenager shit,” you said.

“I see, alright, that makes sense. Maybe we should start one, huh Sev?” Mel said, nudging her partner.

“Anything you want, my love,” Sevika replied, smiling at her girlfriend. Mel just shook her head, amused at Sev’s response, a smile curving her mouth.

“That makes sense, considering what we're doing. Very teenager-esque, I must say. But I feel like something’s missing, like we need to be playing spin-the-bottle or explicit truth or dare,” Mel said.

“Ekko has drunk jenga,” you said, pointing to a pile of games stacked high in the corner.

“That's perfect. Alright, who wants to play drunk jenga?” Mel asked the room, and a chorus of ‘I will’s followed. So while Mel and Sevika grabbed the game and began setting it up, you went to grab yourself another drink, Vi following behind you.

“Do you want another one, babe?” you ask Vi, who was in the process of snaking her hands around your front to hug you from behind.

“I’m alright, thank you though,” she said from just over your shoulder. So you fixed your drink, a Dirty Shirley this time, all while having a rather clingy Vi attached to your back, then joined your friends.

While Jinx, Ekko, Jayce, and Viktor played beer pong, you, Vi, Mel, Sev, Lest, Scar, Maddie, Caitlyn, and Setb (in that order) huddled around the coffee table to play drunk jenga. Since it was Mel and Sev’s idea, they went first. Mel pulled one from right in the middle, sliding it out and reading it aloud.

“Take a shot with the person to your right,” she said, then looked towards Sevika, who was already getting up to go get shot glasses and vodka. Sev came back, poured the shots, cheered with Mel and downed it, barely making a face at its taste. Mel, on the other hand, made a twisted face at the taste. And since they had pulled a block semi-together, it was now Lest’s turn. She pulled one from the edge close to the bottom, its removal slightly more difficult than the block Mel pulled, then read it aloud.

“Kiss the person to your right,” she said, and a small blush appeared on her cheeks. She turned to her right to face Scar, Ekko’s long-time friend, who looked a little shocked and flushed, but played it off well. Hesitantly they kissed, a quick and gentle peck, but it was cute enough to bring a smile to your face.

It went on like that, your friends pulling blockers that made the structure more precarious each turn, reading them aloud and quickly getting more intoxicated. And then it was your turn. You surveyed the tower, looking for a block to pull that wouldn’t tip the entire structure over, and went with the bottom middle block. As you poked and prodded, the tower shifted, but you were able to pull the block free without losing the game.

“Seven minutes in heaven,” you read out, and as soon as the words left your lips, Vi, with a wicked grin on her face, was pulling you away and down the hall. She stopped at the hall closet, flung the door open, then pushed you inside, closing the door behind her.

The slats in the door allowed enough light in for you to get the gist of shapes, but it was still pretty dark. Your heart was pounding, probably due to the combination of alcohol and adrenaline in your blood. Vi had hauled you off rather quickly, you barely had time to set your almost empty cup down, and now you were standing very close to your girlfriend in a very confined space. Good thing you weren't claustrophobic.

“I haven't been in one of these in years,” you joked, looking around the small space and attempting to diffuse the growing tension. Vi had been exceptionally touchy this evening, and being in a confined space alone with her was only making you more soaked.

“I think we should play a game,” Vi whispered, leaning in close.

“Besides seven minutes in heaven?” you asked.

“I think we should play the game where whoever makes the other come first wins.” Vi leaned back slightly, surveying your face with a small grin on hers. She knew you were two drinks down, and even though you weren't completely drunk yet, you were still pretty tipsy. Her surveying you was your chance to say no. But you didn’t want to. That grin on her face let you know she knew you were tipsy, and because of that would be at a disadvantage when it came to the game. And you wanted nothing more than to prove her wrong.

Instead of answering her with words, you launched yourself at her, pulling her into a hard and frantic kiss. You threw your arms around her neck, pressing your body against hers, and tangled one of your hands in her hair, pulling slightly at the strands. Vi moaned low, and the sound went straight to your clit. You pulled back from the kiss only to have your hands shoot straight to the front of her pants, working the button loose. Vi, catching on, did the same to your pants. Soon enough you were dragging your hand through her happy trail and into her boxers, her hand not far behind in yours.

Vi’s fingers pushed into you, only to find you completely soaked. “All this already? If you were so needy you could have just said something,” she taunted.

“Shut up,” you retorted, but there was no bite behind the words. While she dragged her fingers through your folds, spreading your slick and lazily circling your clit, you pushed two fingers into her and slowly ground the palm of your hand against her clit. Her walls clenched around the intrusion, but the new wave of slick, along with her surprised moan, let you know you were welcome.

Both of you seemed to have differing strategies: where Vi was more lazy and teasing with her movements, you were precise and strategic. Or at least you were trying to be. As soon as Vi sunk two fingers into you and started curling them, your movements faltered. You tried to keep up, tried to play it off by stifling your moans and rubbing her clit harder, and while, yes, Vi was moaning and whimpering slightly, your ministrations were nothing compared to hers. She knew your body like the back of her hand, knew all the right buttons to press, when to press them, and how to make you fall apart in her hands.

“What's the matter, babe? Can’t keep up?” she taunted. You kissed her to shut her up, but also to hopefully regain some control. You knew she loved when you were loud, and you knew she loved when you played with her tits. So you did both. You moaned, excessively, into the kiss, syncing it up with her thrusts, and worked your free hand inside her shirt and under her bra. You grazed your fingers over her nipple, which elicited a gasp from her, breaking the kiss for only a second before she pulled you back into it. You knew she knew what you were doing, so you tried to be as unpredictable as possible. You pinched her nipple, which earned you a guttural moan, the sound making you smile against the kiss. Now you are in control.

But it didn’t last long. Vi broke the kiss and instead pressed her forehead against yours, her heavy breathing mixing with yours. And then the next thing you knew there was a hand on your throat and you were being pushed back against the wall, her fingers still circling tightly around your clit. Your back hit the wall, and you wanted to complain that this position wasn’t fair, but then Vi started kissing you again, and the hand on your throat was squeezing just so, and her fingers were working you closer and closer to the edge. You were dizzy, hazy from the alcohol, breathless, still kissing her, and you tried your hardest to keep up, circling her clit and adding a third finger, but it was a lost cause. You were losing your footing, your hand was stopping and starting, your jerky movements doing little to bring Vi much pleasure.

You pulled away from the kiss, panting, and rested your forehead on Vi’s shoulder. You just needed to focus.

“Not very good at this game, are you?” she whispered into your ear, her voice dripping with mock-condicention. You tried to speak, tried to come up with a retort, but all you could manage was a weak moan. “Why don’t you come for me, baby. It’s okay, you can do it,” she said, her breath ghosting your ear. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, she was kissing your neck, your jaw, that spot behind your ear that always made you squirm, and it was your undoing.

You came with a strangled cry of her name, wave after wave of pleasure crashing into you as Vi kept up her movements, and you would have collapsed if it hadn’t been for Vi snaking the hand that was previously on your throat around your back to keep you upright. She soothed and cooed at you, bringing you slowly but surely back to reality.

Foreheads pressed together and hands still in each other's pants, there was a small nock on the closet door. “What?” Vi said, while her breath still mingled with your.

“Um, I’m supposed to tell you that the seven minutes is up,” you heard Jayce say from beyond the door.

“Got it,” Vi responded, and you couldn't help but laugh, Vi joining you in your giggles. You removed your hand, Vi mirroring your movements, and when Vi slipped her come-covered fingers into her mouth to clean them off, you did the same.

“I may have lost,” you said, “but did I really lose?” You gave Vi a cocky look as you buttoned your pants.

She hummed. “I guess we both won, in different ways.” You gave her another quick kiss before readjusting your clothes and smoothing your hair, making sure everything was as it should be. Vi did the same, and soon enough you were opening the closet door and stepping out to join the party once more.

As you made your way back, hand-in-hand with Vi, a handful of your friends gave you knowing looks, and some of them even whistled, but most didn’t react. You knew you should have tried to be quiet, and you had for the most part, but you had assumed the distance plus the music would have drowned out most of the moaning. Maybe you had miscalculated. But it didn’t matter now.

You and Vi rejoined the party, chatted with friends and played a couple more games, but stuck to water for the rest of your time there. And after a couple more hours, you were yawning, curled up against Vi, about ready to fall asleep. Vi had been talking with Ekko, a conversation you were too tired to follow, but noticed your yawning and decided it was time to go.

She got you into your coat, pulling your hat onto your head and zipping you up, then put her own on. She thanked Ekko profusely, as well as your remaining friends, which you also did, albeit more groggily, then guided you up the stairs and out the door towards the car. It had stopped snowing, and the car didn’t need much scraping off before it was able to be driven. Vi guided you into the passenger seat, making sure your seat belt was clicked in before closing your door and making her way around to settle into the driver's seat.

“Thank you for tonight, it was wonderful,” she said. Though you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard her through the haze.

“You’re welcome, baby. Anything for you,” you mumbled, then proceeded to fall asleep.

Tag list: @usuck @saqqarasdissent

[mindless-existence1]

Shadow x fem or gn reader thats sonic’s sibling but they don’t mention it until they get together, how would Shadow and Sonic react? Thought this idea was funny (oneshot)

Idk if ur requests are open, but take your time !

I didn't realize I finished this so I was scrolling through my writing app and found it finished and girl I was shocked. Sorry it's gone so long without being posted 😅😅

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadow wasn’t the type to meet many people unless it was absolutely necessary. So when you brought up introducing him to your brother, he raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, hed do anything if you said it nice enough.

The two of you had yet to start officially dating, you wanted to wait untill he at least knew your family. You spent nearly every day together, and it was clear to anyone with eyes that there was something deeper than friendship between you.

Still, you hadn’t exactly told Shadow everything about yourself. Not because you were hiding anything—far from it—but because, well, some details just never seemed relevant. Like the fact that your brother was none other than Sonic the Hedgehog.

You didn’t think much of it. Shadow never really talked about Sonic, and you didn’t bring him up often either. It wasn’t until you arranged for the two of them to meet at a local café that you realized the glaring oversight in your plan.

---

You arrived first with Shadow, finding a cozy table in the corner of the café. He sat next to you, arms crossed, his usual stoic demeanor firmly in place. “So, your brother,” Shadow said, glancing at you. “What’s he like?”

You smiled. “Oh, he’s great. Kind of cocky sometimes, but he’s got a good heart. You’ll like him.” Shadow raised an eyebrow at that, but before he could respond, the door jingled, and you turned to see Sonic stroll in, his signature confident grin plastered across his face.

“Hey, there you are!” Sonic called out, making his way over to your table. His eyes flicked to Shadow, and his grin faltered slightly. “Oh. It’s you.” Shadow’s expression darkened immediately. “Of course. It’s you.”

You blinked, looking between the two of them. “Wait... you two know each other?” Sonic chuckled dryly, crossing his arms. “Know each other? Yeah, you could say that. Shadow and I have a bit of... history.”

Shadow scoffed, glaring at Sonic. “History? Is that what we’re calling it now? I’d call it a series of your insufferable antics.”

“Insufferable? Please,” Sonic shot back, smirking. “You’re just mad because I’m better and you're supposed to be "the ultimate lifeform".” Your mouth fell open as the two of them glared at each other, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Okay, hold on,” you said, holding up your hands. “I feel like I’m missing something here. How do you two even know each other?” Sonic blinked, glancing at you. “Wait... you’re telling me you never mentioned me to him?”

“I didn’t think it was important!” you said defensively. “Why, exactly, is this such a big deal?” Shadow narrowed his eyes at Sonic. “You didn’t tell me your brother was him.”

“Well, you didn’t tell me you hated my brother!” you shot back, exasperated.Sonic snorted. “Hate’s a strong word. It’s more like... mild irritation.”

“Mutual disdain,” Shadow corrected, his tone dry.You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Okay, look. Can we all just... start over? Shadow, this is my brother, Sonic. Sonic, this is Shadow. He’s... someone very important to me.”

Sonic’s eyebrows shot up, and a sly grin spread across his face. “Oh, very important, huh? Didn’t realize you had a thing for dark and broody hedgehogs.”

“Don’t start,” you warned, shooting him a glare. Shadow, for his part, simply crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. You shush himbefore he can let out the remark you could sense about to come from him, “You two are going to get along if it kills me. Sonic, stop being a smartass. Shadow, stop being... you.”

The two of them exchanged a glance, and for a moment, it seemed like they might actually listen.Then Sonic grinned again. “Fine. But only because I like you more than I dislike him.”

Shadow sighed, his expression softening slightly as he looked at you. “I’ll tolerate this... for you.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. It was going to take some time, but you had a feeling that, eventually, these two might just get along—or at least not fight on sight every time they were in the same room.

[elyxir1zz]

★ — Between the lines - part 4

CW : meanie sevika, artist reader, hockey player vi and sevika, modern au, highschool shenanigans, cheating, sex, dark themes, love triangle

A/N : very dark chapter.

previous part

THIS FOLLOWING CHAPTER CONTAINS SEX AND MENTIONS OF SELF HARM - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

You returned to school for the rest of the day, a bundle of nerves and tension. Sevika didn’t show up, and while part of you felt relief, another part couldn’t stop replaying your last conversation in your head. By the time you got home, you were emotionally drained, retreating to your room to nurse the ache in your chest.

Tears had come and gone, leaving you sprawled on your bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Your phone sat on your chest, buzzing occasionally, but you refused to check it. Not now. Not when everything felt so overwhelming.

A sudden knock at your window shattered the quiet. You bolted upright, heart pounding as you turned toward the sound.

Sevika.

Sevika was at your window.

You screamed, flailing backward and tumbling off your bed in a graceless heap.

“Can you let me in? It’s raining,” Sevika called through the glass, her voice muffled but tinged with something softer than her usual tone. Her expression—was that guilt?—made her look uncharacteristically vulnerable.

Groaning, you pushed yourself up and stalked over to the window, sliding it open. “What the hell are you doing here?” you hissed.

She climbed inside with surprising ease, shaking off rain droplets as she straightened up. “I wanted to apologize about earlier,” she muttered, her eyes scanning you. “But you weren’t answering my texts.”

You crossed your arms, suddenly hyper-aware of your fuzzy pink pajama pants and the tank top you’d lazily thrown on. You wished you’d worn something a little less... ridiculous. “Gee, I wonder why,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

Sevika sighed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she avoided your gaze. After a moment, she reached into her jacket and pulled out a small baggie. “You want to smoke a joint?”

You stared at the bag, then at her, then back at the bag. You smirk softly

You both sat on the floor, backs against opposite sides of the room—yours against the edge of your bed, hers against the closet door. The air between you was hazy, not just from the joint you passed back and forth but from the unspoken weight of earlier conversations.

You took a puff, coughing softly as the smoke burned your throat. “So... what was that ‘she has everything’ shit earlier?” you asked, passing the joint to Sevika.

She took it effortlessly, her inhale smooth and measured compared to your awkward attempt. “I grew up poor,” she admitted, her tone neutral, like she was reading from a grocery list.

Guilt washed over you instantly, and you looked at her, unsure of what to say. Her eyes flicked to yours, and she smirked.

“Don’t worry, crybaby. I’m fine,” she teased, handing the joint back to you.

Your eyes narrowed, your embarrassment quickly turning into annoyance. “I feel sorrow not for your past but for your future,” you shot back, taking another puff, “because one day that mouth is going to get you a black eye.”

Sevika chuckled, rolling her eyes as she reached for the joint. “Fair enough.” A beat of silence settled between you, broken only by the faint crackle of the joint.

“And Vi?” You raised an eyebrow, watching her carefully.

She exhaled, her shoulders sinking slightly. “In freshman year... we were friends,” she muttered, her gaze fixed somewhere on the floor. “But I made the hockey team, and she didn’t.”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion even though you already had a sinking feeling about where this was going. “I don’t understand.”

Sevika hesitated, her lips pressing into a tight line before continuing. “I don’t know if it was her exactly, but... there was this rumor that I was in a gang and smuggling drugs.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” you muttered, a soft laugh escaping despite yourself. You quickly clamped a hand over your mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“You can laugh. It’s fine,” she said, her voice lighter than her words. She passed the joint back to you, her expression unreadable. “It wasn’t true, obviously, but it got me temporarily kicked off the hockey team. It was this whole thing. There was a police investigation, they searched my room... you get the picture.”

You stared at her, stunned by how calmly she was recounting something so horrifying. “I... I don’t know what to say.”

She gave a small shrug, her voice softening. “By junior year, I realized I was being racially profiled for most of the police investagations”

Your chest tightened. “I’m so sorry, Sevika,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes scanning her face for any hint of emotion.

She smirked faintly, her walls coming back up. “Vi was right. You really are a sweetheart.”

Your face flushed, and you looked away, muttering, “Thanks.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the joint burning low between Sevika’s fingers. After a moment, she stubbed it out. “So... how’d you meet Vi, anyway?” she asked, her tone curious.

“First day of freshman year,” you said, smiling at the memory. “Vi had to retake Algebra 1, and we ended up in the same class.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk at your dorky face. 

You stop smiling from embarrassment. “She started coming over to my house so I could tutor her. Eventually, I realized she was probably just pretending to need help to talk to me. But... I never called her out on it.”

Sevika took a moment, her smirk softening as she studied you. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Avoiding the conversation instead of telling you like a normal person” she grumbled

Your cheeks warmed, and you glanced down, fiddling with the frayed hem of your pajama pants. “I guess. It was kind of sweet, in a way.”

Sevika’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, the room falling into a quiet stillness. Then she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her voice lower now. “So... you really like her, huh?”

You looked up, startled by the shift in her tone. Her eyes bore into yours, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. “I—I mean, yeah. She’s my girlfriend,” you stammered, the words feeling heavier than they should.

Sevika nodded slowly, her gaze flicking to the floor, her expression unreadable. “She’s lucky, you know. You’re... a good person.”

There was something about the way she said it that made your heart skip. “Thanks,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You glanced at her, hoping to find some trace of the teasing, cocky Sevika you were used to, but instead, her expression was open—vulnerable, even.

“You’re too good for her,” Sevika muttered for the second time that day. 

“What?” you asked, your brow furrowing.

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Nothing. Forget it.”

You leaned forward, closing some of the distance between you. “No, tell me. What’s that supposed to mean? Ill stay this time” you joked trying to lighten the mood

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, she hesitated. Then, with a small sigh, she said, “You’re the kind of person who deserves... I don’t know. Someone who really gets you. Someone who doesn’t just show up when it’s convenient.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and you weren’t entirely sure why. “Vi does get me,” you said, but even to your own ears, it sounded more like a defense than the truth.

Sevika leaned back, her shoulders pressing against the closet door. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe. Or maybe you just think she does because it’s what you want to believe.”

“Why are you saying this?” you asked, your voice shaking slightly.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached out, brushing her fingers against your hand where it rested on the floor. The touch was fleeting, barely there, but it sent a jolt through you. “Because,” she said finally, her voice low and steady, “I care about you. And I don’t want to see you settle for someone who doesn’t deserve you.”

Your breath hitched, and you pulled your hand away, heart pounding. “Sevika... you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” she challenged, leaning closer. Her eyes locked with yours, the intensity in them making it impossible to look away. “What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid,” you lied, though the trembling in your hands gave you away.

“Yeah, you are,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. “I see it. You’re scared because maybe... just maybe... I’m right.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The air between you felt heavy, charged with something unspoken. You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, the space between you was gone. She was close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off her, close enough to see the faint scar along her jawline.

“Sevika,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

She tilted her head, her gaze dropping briefly to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. “Tell me to stop,” she said, her voice low and rough, like she was holding back everything she wanted to say.

But you didn’t tell her to stop. You couldn’t. Instead, you sat frozen, torn between a hundred different emotions, all of them warring for control. And then, slowly, almost hesitantly, she leaned in.

“Don’t leave any marks… please,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you leaned your head back, exposing the delicate curve of your neck. Her lips trailed downward, hot and deliberate, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You felt her smile against your skin before she pulled away just enough to meet your gaze.

“I guess…” she murmured, her voice low and teasing. Her hand rested on your waist, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of your shirt. “Can I take this off?” she asked, her tone softer now, more sincere. It wasn’t a demand—it was a question, one that made your chest tighten with both fear and something else, something warm and unfamiliar.

Your heart skipped. “Uh… can it stay on?” you managed to whisper, eyes dropping to her hands as if they held some kind of answer. She tilted her head, studying you for a moment, before nodding.

“Sure. Don’t worry,” she said, her smile soft but still carrying that edge of mischief that made your stomach flip. She slid down onto her knees, her hands moving to the hem of your pants. “These, though…” she trailed off, tugging lightly at the fabric.

You lifted your hips instinctively, letting her pull them down and off, leaving you in nothing but your shirt and panties. The cool air brushed against your bare thighs, and you shivered, not from the cold, but from the vulnerability of it all. She was looking at you. Really looking at you. And you? You were exposed. Every inch of you felt like an open book, waiting for her to read. Your cheeks burned as you turned your face away, unable to hold her gaze.

“Stop that,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. One hand reached up to tilt your chin back toward her. “Look at me.” When you hesitated, she added, quieter now, “You’re beautiful.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the chest. You weren’t used to this—any of this. Not the way she looked at you, not the way her hands felt against your skin, not the way her voice seemed to wrap around you, pulling you closer even when she wasn’t touching you. But then she did touch you, her fingers brushing over the inside of your thigh, and you gasped softly.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she noticed something—a faint mark on your skin. “What’s this?” she asked, her tone sharpening. Concern flickered across her face, but you shook your head quickly.

“Birthmark,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to think about it. The last thing you needed was for her to see the cracks in the facade you’d spent so long building.

She studied you for a moment longer, her expression unreadable, before nodding. “Alright,” she said, though her voice carried a hint of something else—something you couldn’t quite place. Her hands moved again, sliding your panties down and off, leaving you completely bare beneath your shirt.

Your breath caught, and you hesitated, your elbows propping you up as you tried to steady yourself. “Um… I’ve never really done this before…” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. It felt like a confession, like you were handing her a piece of yourself you hadn’t planned to give.

She paused, her hands stilling on your thighs. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. Her thumbs rubbed slow circles into your skin, grounding you, calming you.

You nodded, your breath quickening as you felt her tongue run over your sensitive clit. The sensation was electric, sending sparks shooting through your body. You gasped, bucking your hips involuntarily, but her hands steadied you, holding you in place.

“Oh fuck—” you moaned, arching your back as her tongue pressed harder, exploring every inch of you. Her fingers joined soon after, slipping inside you with ease, and the sound they made—wet and obscene—made your entire body flush with heat. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, could hear it every time she moved.

“Relax, I’ve got you,” she whispered against your folds, her breath hot and uneven. Her fingers curled inside you, hitting a spot that made your vision blur. You threw your head back with a cry, your hands tangling in the sheets as pleasure surged through you.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod—the thought repeated itself over and over in your mind, a mantra you couldn’t escape. Your legs trembled, your hips jerking uncontrollably as she worked you closer and closer to the edge. And then, just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, she pulled away, leaving you desperate and aching.

you whimpered, looking down at her, her eyes dark and hungry. Without a word, she replaced her fingers with her mouth, tongue thrusting deep inside you as she pushed you over the edge.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, dragging you under and pulling you apart. You cried out, your legs seizing as pleasure consumed you. She didn’t stop, didn’t let up, until every last shudder had left your body.

When she finally pulled away, you were a mess—breathless, boneless, and utterly wrecked. She climbed onto the bed beside you, her hand resting lightly on your thigh as she watched you come down from your high

You had been laying there for over an hour, your back pressed against Sevika's chest. The silence between you was thick but not uncomfortable; her hand rested on your waist, her thumb drawing slow circles against your skin. Still, your thoughts were far from calm. Guilt gnawed at you, twisting knots in your stomach as you questioned yourself—your choices, your morals, even who you were becoming.

The quiet was shattered by the sound of the front door opening. “I’m home! I brought you your baked salmon!” your mom called out. Both of you shot upright in a panic.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath as Sevika scrambled off your bed, fumbling to her feet in a mad dash for the window. She tripped, landing on the floor before shooting you a sheepish look, which only made you snicker.

“Baked salmon?” Sevika teased, raising an eyebrow as she finally stood, brushing herself off.

“Shut up, bikergirl,” you shot back with a grin, holding the window open for her. She gave you a smirk before crawling out, landing lightly on the grass below. You watched her jog to her motorcycle, her figure disappearing into the twilight as the engine roared to life, speeding off into the neighborhood.

You let out a deep sigh and turned back to face your bedroom door just as your mom called for you again. “I’m coming!” you shouted, shaking your head as you tried to smooth out the mess Sevika had left behind—not just in your room, but in your head.

You jog down the stairs, stopping on the last step as you spot your mom kicking off her shoes. “So, how’d it go? Is he my new daddy?” you tease with a grin.

She shoots you a sharp look—not angry at you, but irritated nonetheless. “Oh god, what happened?” you ask, tilting your head as she heads straight for the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of wine.

“He was an asshole,” she muttered, pouring herself a glass and filling it nearly to the brim with white wine. “Sat on his phone the entire time. My love life is shit,” she huffed, taking a long sip.

You follow her into the kitchen and lean against the island, watching her as you let out a sigh. “You and me both.”

She quirks an eyebrow at you. “I thought you were dating that Violet girl?” she asks, her tone both curious and a little concerned.

You shrug, avoiding her gaze. “I thought that too…” you mutter, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Your mom studies you for a moment before sliding a white takeout box across the counter toward you. “Hopefully, this will cheer you up,” she says, her tone softer.

You give her a small smile, picking up the box. “Thanks, Mom,” you say, heading back upstairs.

Once back in your room, you set the takeout box on your dresser without opening it. Instead, you lower yourself onto the floor, your back against the edge of your bed. You rest your head against the mattress, staring at the wall as your thoughts spiral. 

You sit on the floor, back pressed against the edge of your bed, staring blankly at the carpet. The thoughts in your head spiral faster and faster, suffocating you in their intensity. You mutter under your breath, “I’m a horrible person…” as your hands instinctively move to pick at your nails, the sharp pain grounding you for only a second before the storm in your chest grows stronger.

Your leg bounces uncontrollably, the rhythm erratic and desperate. The voice in your head—your voice, but crueler and louder—echoes: You’re no good anymore. You ruined everything. You’re a slut, a cheater.

The words sting, even as you whisper them aloud, knees pulled tightly to your chest as though curling into yourself could somehow stop the onslaught. “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just—” your voice cracks, and your breathing turns shallow. The air around you feels heavier, like it’s being sucked out of the room.

You clutch your knees tighter, trying to keep yourself together, but your chest tightens painfully. You gasp, unable to pull in a full breath. “I can’t—” you whisper, your voice trembling. Tears blur your vision as you rock slightly, the only thing you can think to do to stop the chaos inside.

The insults keep coming, relentless and sharp, each one dragging you deeper into a pit of guilt and shame. “This is your fault. You’re disgusting. How could you—” The tears fall freely now, hot and stinging as they roll down your cheeks.

Your hands shake as you press your palms against your temples, trying to quiet the noise in your head. “Stop,” you whisper hoarsely. “Please just stop.” But it doesn’t. The silence of the room feels deafening, and every second stretches endlessly, each moment another battle to pull yourself out of the spiraling panic.

Your breath comes in sharp, uneven gasps, your chest rising and falling too quickly. Your vision blurs further, black dots creeping into the edges of your sight as the panic threatens to overwhelm you entirely.

You stare at the lighter sitting on your nightstand, its metallic surface gleaming faintly under the dim light of your room. It feels like it's mocking you, daring you, its presence weighing heavier with each passing second. Your eyes flicker to the door, your heart thudding painfully in your chest as you listen for any sound, any sign that your mom might come up and interrupt this moment.

But it’s quiet. Too quiet.

Your gaze shifts back to the lighter, and the spiral of thoughts in your head tightens. You don’t deserve comfort. You don’t deserve forgiveness. You don’t deserve anything.

The voice in your head whispers cruelly: You need this. You deserve this.

You can feel your hands trembling as you sit up straighter, as if your body is moving on autopilot. The idea takes hold and refuses to let go, anchoring itself to the overwhelming guilt swirling in your chest. You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.

And suddenly, you stand up. Your legs feel weak, your movements shaky, but the resolve builds in your mind. You reach for the lighter, gripping it tightly in your hand as if it’s the solution, the only way to silence the storm inside.

You hesitate for a moment, staring down at the small object in your palm. It’s so light, so insignificant, yet the weight of what it represents crushes you. Your thumb brushes against the flint wheel, and the sound of the lighter clicking echoes through the room.

A small flame flickers to life, dancing almost mockingly, its glow reflecting in your tear-filled eyes. It feels warm, deceptively comforting, but you know why you’ve lit it.

You glance back at the door again, the guilt and shame warring with the desperation in your heart. Your breathing is uneven, your hands trembling as the flame continues to burn, waiting.

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