#fanfiction short

[purplehrts7]

Unwanted Guests

You had just stepped out of the shower, steam rolled off your body and filled the small space of your bathroom. After a long, nice and hot shower, you felt more than refreshed and ready to start the day. Quickly, you wrapped yourself in your favorite fuzzy mint green towel to try and retain some of the heat from the bath. Just then, you heard a piercing screech from downstairs.

"Loki?!" You called out, voice full of concern. The screams continued and you swung the bathroom door open and raced out of your bedroom. On the way out, you stubbed your toe against the door frame, so as you hobble down the steps you cursed your throbbing toe.

"Loki?!" You called again. " I'm coming!"

But as you reached the bottom step, you're greeted with a hilarious sight. Well, almost anyway. If it weren't for Loki, paled face and perched on top of the table with his eyes gaped open in alert. You immediately wondered what could have him so horrified.

" Stay back!" Loki commanded from his spot on top of the table.  " Don't take another step."

" Loki, what- " You tried again, but he interrupted once more.

" There!" He pointed to the floor in front of him.

"What?" You asked, clearly not seeing what he was pointing at.

  " Gods above, don't you see it?!" He jabbed his finger in the same direction. " It's moving, for heaven's sake!"

You could feel laughter building up inside you at his growing stress. You knew it wasn't really funny, but seeing him like that just made it so funny. Then you finally saw it. A small dot quickly making its way to the wall. He finally looked at you, momentarily forgetting his fear as he saw you in your towel, water droplets still dotting your skin and dripping from your hair. Just as he was about to say something slick and flirty, you say something first.

"It's a spider." You said blankly. You couldn't believe he was making such a fuss about it. "Wait... you're afraid of a spider?"

It was his turn to blink.

" The thing you were just screeching about?" You reminded him pointedly.

" I was not screeching. I was alarming you of immediate danger very loudly."

" You were definitely screeching. I thought you were dying or something. But, no, it was just a spider. A small one at that. "

"Is that what you call those ghastly creatures?" He asked, raising a slender brow in your direction. Then he shook his head. " More importantly, why aren't you more afraid of them?"

At this, you had to laugh. The entire situation was so ridiculous you could no longer keep it in.

"Why are you laughing, Mortal?" He snapped, reverting back to his usual name for you when he's irritated with you. " Stop it! You should be getting rid of them!"

" I'm sorry. It's just, you know, you're this almighty God and you're afraid of a tiny spider?" You laughed some more.

" A spider? You think I'm afraid of a single spider?"

Your laughter died down. " Uh, what do you mean?"

" Darling, you have an infestation. I think I found the nest underneath the sink in the kitchen. They all started flooding out when I opened it to look for the sugar."

You blinked. " Sugar? Why would you-"

" I don't know my way around your mortal kitchens yet." He said, waving his hand dismissively.

" Who puts sugar underneath the sink?" You asked him.

" That is not important right now."

" You're right, " you said, looking around nervously. " but once I figure this situation out, we're gonna revisit this again."

" With your inferior mortal memory, let us pray you forget soon. " He mumbled under his breath.

" Let's pretend I didn't hear that. " You said, while rolling your eyes. " Anyways, let me go upstairs  and call the exterminator."

" You're going to leave me behind to fend myself against these horrid creatures?"

You looked at him confused.  "I'm not stopping you from coming along."

" Yes, I'm aware of that, but..." he looked tentively at the ground just as another spider dashed underneath the table." Good heavens just hurry."

You saluted him and ran upstairs to dress and call an exterminator. You also weren't thrilled by the idea of a spider infestation in your cute apartment and wanted to be rid of them as soon as possible.

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe loves to put his fingers in sensitive!reader’s mouth & her favorite place in the world is his lap...

18+ mdni!

c/w: mean older!rafe being a tease & making her choke on his fingers, heavily suggestive, size kink, use of daddy

wc: 1.6k

in love w this man so more of him on the way xx

this is an additional part to this & u can read more here

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

Rafe has had a bad day.   

She notices it immediately by the way he greets her with only a brief peck on her cheek; carelessly throwing his jacket on the couch before slumping down against the cushions and letting out a washed-out exhale.  

For the entirety of the week, gloomy clouds have painted over the dusty, colorless horizon and wet water puddles have saturated the socks of passing pedestrians and dog walkers alike. However, Rafe is not someone who particularly minds rainy days, which is why she assumes that the reason for his disgruntled mood has something to do with business, as it more often than not does.   

He scratches at the buzzed hair still slightly damp from the rain while she simply stands there and blinks; unsure whether he wishes to be alone or not.   

“What are you doing? C’mere,” he suddenly orders in a somewhat of a stern tone and she has no choice but to pad over to his sprawled-out legs, lowering to sit on top of him and letting him paw at her waist as his beefy arms pull her closer. And she can't really complain when the heat of his body seeps into her flesh in such a comforting way; makes her insides feel all fluffy and featherlight.  

In the same way that Rafe seems to enjoy her needing him to take care of her when everything feels like too much, she loves being there for him; likes to feel useful, needed.

“Do you wanna...talk about it?” The muted melody of her vocal cords reaches his ears as vivid raindrops pitter patter against the glass of the windows and he groans in exhaustion at how perfect she is for him.   

“Not really,” he dismisses her with a shake of his head. “How was your day, hm?”  

“It was uh, okay. I don’t know, the usual. Had some boring lectures, almost fell asleep…questioned every decision I’ve ever made,” she huffs out and settles her palms on his strong biceps. 

“Mm,” he’s only half listening; beginning to mindlessly twirl a strand of her hair around his index finger.   

And she takes that as her cue to continue blabbering out complete nonsense as she begins to grow slightly restless being this close to him. Truth be told, she’s pathetically been missing him the whole day; the only thing granting her the motivation to go about her routines being the thought of seeing him at the end of it all. And now that he’s here, he seems frustrated; mind entirely elsewhere and she doesn’t know what to do except ramble on and on about her dull day.   

Then, completely out of the blue, he’s grabbing her jaw into his massive hand and hushing her.  

“Shut up for one second, yeah?” He mutters out before he’s tucking a thumb past her lips; a surprised squeak leaving the back of her throat at the sudden intrusion because he was the one who asked for her to talk in the first place.   

However, she can’t exactly say that it’s unexpected. He often gets a tad bit meaner whenever he’s had a dreary workday and takes it out on her in some form or another. And regardless of how unhealthy all of it might seem, there’s a crooked part of her brain that yearns for it; wants him to come to her whenever he’s upset. If she’s utterly honest, the thought of him searching for solace in anyone else makes nausea creep up her bones.  

For some reason, the firm pad of his thumb making her tongue feel heavy in her mouth placates her; turns her brain into a needy, dingy muddle in a way that only Rafe is capable of.  

“Shit, just needed something to suck on, huh?” He pushes down on her tongue, making her swallow around the digit with a whimper.   

“So fucking pathetic sometimes, you know? Just take anything Daddy gives you,” a low-pitched chuckle thunders from his chest, seemingly amused by the ease in which she gives into him.   

However, there’s also something gooey, syrupy beginning to whirl in the pit of her tummy. It reminds her of the countless times she was perched on the park swing as a little girl during the balmy summers of her childhood; thinking she could reach the fluffy clouds with the tips of her sneakers if only she could fly a little higher.   

“Feels nice to have something in your mouth, doesn’t it?” He ogles at her, mesmerized with intrigue twinkling in the Carolina blue that has always made her think of the sky.   

She lets out a faint moan when he drags the digit out and then back in, making her gag around it; her hips involuntarily rutting against the growing bulge straining against the zipper of his pants, desperate for some sort of friction if even through the soft material of her sweatpants.   

“Didn’t give you permission to move, did I?” He feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows that gets her to reluctantly halt her shifting.   

“Daddy, need your...” Her words are cushioned against the obstacle he’s planted between her teeth. 

“Can’t really hear you, Kitten,” he mocks before he’s pulling the thumb out of her mouth altogether.   

However, the next thing she knows, he’s stuffing in his index and middle finger both at the same time. They reach far deeper; a muffled sound of gagging following his actions as he seems to discover a perverted sense of satisfaction from her struggle.  

"What did you say?" His lips twist into a cruel smirk when she whimpers pitifully and tries to draw away from him in order to catch her breath but his other hand only grips her jaw tighter, keeping her exactly where he wants as she’s forced to breathe through her nose.   

“I think you can take it for a bit longer, yeah?” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he simply stares, seemingly absorbed into the obscene scene before him.   

And she should feel embarrassed, demeaned even. And she does! However, the humiliation of letting him do whatever he wants as if she’s nothing but a cheap toy for his entertainment blurs over the lines when her cunt throbs in response to his degrading attention. She flutters uselessly around nothing; powerlessly begging for some sort of alleviation with a whine that merely earns her a tut of his tongue.   

Therefore, the only thing she can do is sit there like an obedient animal because he’s already scolded her once. She hasn’t turned entirely dumb just yet; knows firsthand how ‘Daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself’ and that the next time she misbehaves will result in a punishment her poor cunt probably wouldn’t be able to handle in this helpless state of hers.  

“Don't think you could take Daddy’s cock even halfway in this pretty mouth,” he mindlessly croons, thumb smoothing over the skin of her throat as she swallows the spit beginning to dribble down her chin.   

The thought manages to pique her curiosity because his cock has been at the forefront of her mind for a couple of weeks now, due to him constantly teasing her with the notion of letting her suck him off properly. He keeps murmuring about training her throat and fucking it raw but never actually doing it; merely allowing for her to drool and mouth over the tip because apparently, she's 'not ready yet'.   

She’s beginning to turn into something desperate because whenever she tries to take more of him into her mouth, he stops her with a click of his tongue and big hands lifting her head off him. “Don’t be greedy now, Kitten,” he’d scold her but she's certain she’s going to die if she doesn’t get to feel his cock nudge at the back of her throat soon.   

“Ray…” she tries to fruitlessly speak but he’s not exactly making it easy as he keeps stroking against her tongue. However, she doesn’t need to say anything. He knows what she wants. 

“I mean, can barely fit into this tight cunt, don’t know why you keep whining about wanting me in this mouth so bad. Don’t think you’d even enjoy it that much. It’s a lot, you know?” There’s something almost patronizing in the way he’s speaking to her as if he’s not the one who brought the idea up in the first place.  

It’s like he’s trying to talk her out of it yet his fingertips keep prodding past her gag reflex every few minutes, almost as if testing the waters before plunging in and it’s making her head spin.   

She whines and tries to defend herself but the digits fussing with the inside of her slobbery mouth don’t allow for her to form anything audible as she begins to grow troubled.  

“What was that?” The line of his mouth curls when he pokes deeper once more, causing her to moan with watery eyes pleading him for anything at this point.   

“Such a dirty girl. Bet you’d like choking on my cock, huh?” He grunts and she hums in response; nodding fervently before he’s finally withdrawing his hand and smearing the spit-stained fingers against her pouty lips.  

They’re both panting heavily as he gently swipes at her under-eyes in order to catch the teardrops ready to trickle down before petting at the apples of her cheeks with a tenderness reserved only for her. 

“Shit, always know how to make me feel better, don’t ya?” He rumbles fondly against her mouth; following his saccharine words with a messy kiss soon after. Maybe he'll finally allow her to have what she so badly craves… 

[thestuffedalligator]

The wizards said the orangutan would be able to lead them back to the dungeon in a couple days.

What a sentence, Chilchuck thought. It seemed to him that he’d been saying a lot of things with full sincerity that weeks ago would’ve been total gibbering nonsense.

The others had wandered off into the city like tourists. Laios was spending the day in some kind of pet shelter for dragons. Senshi had mentioned bringing Izutsumi to check out the local dwarven cooking. Rats were apparently involved, to his total lack of surprise.

He had decided to hole up in the nearest bar that would accept a fistful of foreign coins. He was at the stage of buzz that felt as though someone was wrapping a woollen blanket around his head, and it was loosening his tongue.

“And he’s a good kid,” he was saying. “He’s a good kid, he’s even a good fighter, but he’s got all the social skills of a dead donkey. This is a guy who hears that he has to eat part of his sister, and the first thing he says is-”

THE EGG IS PLACED ON TOP OF THE BACON?

He paused mid-ramble and blinked stickily at the stranger seated next to him. “Sorry?”

WHAT STRUCTURAL SUPPORT DOES THE BACON OFFER THE EGG?

He blinked again. “It’s for,” he tried. “You know. So you can eat the egg and bacon at the same time.”

INSTEAD OF CONSUMING THE ELEMENTS OF THE BREAKFAST SEPARATELY.

“Right.”

BUT IN THIS EXERCISE, YOU WISH TO REMOVE THE EGG FROM THE BACON.

“Right — right! The idea is if we take away the half of Falin that’s a dragon, we can resurrect the human half of her.”

THUS UNFRYING THE EGG.

He screwed an eye shut and tried to make out the face of the stranger through the three images swirling in the hot, lightheaded haze. It looked like a very skinny face.

“I’m starting to lose the food metaphor,” he mumbled. “My point is, the further we go to fix this problem, the worse it gets. And it’s not that i have a problem with resurrection — have you ever been resurrected?”

NO, BUT I HAVE BEEN WITNESS TO PART OF IT.

“Some people are weird about it. Senshi’s weird about it too, but he’s the one who suggested it. Anyways, it’s not that I have a problem with resurrection, I just don’t like the idea of eating an old coworker.”

Another sentence that would have been nonsense barely a week ago. He tried to shrug and missed. “I guess they say, ‘Eat to live, don’t live to eat.’”

A STRANGE THING TO SAY. A PARADOX OF SOME KIND, I’M SURE.

He was beginning to feel a slight headache. “No, it means, like — treat food as a fuel, a necessity, don’t get fussy about the experience of eating it.”

THEY ARE NOT MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE. The stranger plucked a paper umbrella out of their drink. They twirled it thoughtfully between very skinny fingers. I WOULD RECOMMEND A CURRY, they said. I’VE ALWAYS BEEN FOND OF A CURRY.

[multific]

Motherhood

Yautja x Reader

Summary: After you gave birth to your son, it took you some time to get used to having a half-Yautja and half-human. 

You felt sore all over. 

You moved against the fur but your whole body felt sore.

You could hear your mate’s soft breathing, it immediately made you feel at ease.

Yet, something felt out of place.

As you stirred from your sleep, you sat up in your bed and looked around. Everything looked normal, except for one thing.

The little child who used to be under your heart was now in a crib beside you. 

You looked at your mate, sleeping soundly beside you.

He got used to sleeping with you to the point where he didn’t even care anymore if you moved or woke up. 

It wasn’t always like that.

He often woke up with you when he took you into his home, but he got gradually used to you being with him.

You moved over to the crib, leaving the warmth of your bed, you stood up and got your son out of his crib.

It was a little strange to call him your son, after all, he looked nothing like you.

He looked like a pure Yautja, except for his eyes, his eyes were yours.

He wasn’t sleeping when you lifted him out of his crib, instead, he was watching, learning.

You ignored all the pain in your body as you moved out of the bedroom and into what you would call a kitchen.

You got yourself a glass of water as you sat down on one of the chairs. With your child in your arms, you moved him so you could see his face.

He laid in your lap.

“Will you never cry?” But your Baby had no reply. Of course, he didn’t he wasn’t even a day old. You watched him as his eyes wandered from your eyes to your chest and hands. 

You held a finger out to him, which caught his attention and he immediately grabbed it.

He continued to watch your finger as you smiled.

This little moment reminded you that even if he looked like a Yautja, he was still a baby.

Your baby.

This little boy in your lap was not so long ago in your stomach.

It was crazy to think about.

Your house felt a little too quiet, usually you were never up without your mate. So, this felt a little strange. 

You looked at your son.

“How am I supposed to feed you?” You said as you lifted him, trying to see if he was hungry or not. He was, you didn’t know how, but you could tell.

You pulled your nightgown down and you didn’t know how, but he was a natural.

You watched as he fed. 

He truly didn’t feel like your son. You looked after so many Yautja babies when you joined their tribe, this felt almost like one of those moments.

Except for the feeding part. Only a mother can feed their child.

And your son was no exception.

While he was born into a very high place in the hunting tribe, he was still your son. 

A highly anticipated member.

Your Mate was the right had of the tribe leader, a high position with lots of responsibilities.

One of which was to bring a son into the world.

Which you just managed to do.

You had a pregnancy which left your body sore and your mate feared the worst, but thankfully, you were able to give birth without any major issues.

And now, here you were, holding him and feeding him.

Your thumb ran down his little cheek, right next to where his mandibles were.

“You are beautiful.” You smiled and the child just kept looking at you.

Once he finished eating you pulled your gown back and pulled him to your chest, laying him down.

Did Yautja babies even burp?

Guess you will find out soon.

He did burp.

A small little burp.

And soon, he was off again.

You got up from the chair and headed back to the bedroom.

You got in, the fire was still going, but now, your mate was up.

He looked at you then at your son in your arms.

“He was hungry.” You said as you put him back into his crib before climbing back on the furs.

You let out a long yawn before getting under the covers. 

Your mate made a sound before laying back down himself. You lay down closer to him as he pulled you closer.

Maybe it was a difficult thing to give birth to a Yautja baby. Maybe it was difficult being married to one as well.

But you loved them both with all of your heart and that was enough, more than enough.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Short Stories: Too Late For Remorse

(Prequel)

Yandere Ex Husband x Countess Fem Reader

TW: time regression, cheating (mentioned), yandere, delusional behavior, etc.

“No!” (Your name) shot up from her bed, body covered in a cold sheen of sweat. Her lungs were on fire while her breathing was labored. Her hands fumbled at her neck as her heart pounded in her chest harder than a hammer against wood. She was alive… but how? She had been poisoned by her husband’s mistress…

(Your name) clambered from her silken sheets. The young lady nearly tripped on the fabric from her haste, but she had to scramble to the mirror… she had to make sure.

(Your name) gasped at her reflection in shock. She was twenty again… no longer was she the sullen, neglected thirty year old wife of Duke Blackburn. She was once again the young Countess (Last name)! She had the means to start over again.

(Your name) sunk to her knees as she smiled at her ceiling. A few tears fell down her cheeks as she sucked in a shaky breath. She wouldn’t waste this second chance, no. She’d get her engagement annulled and live a peaceful life this time… no matter who she had to eliminate. (Your name) would pay her fiancé and his mistress back ten fold for their betrayal.

.

.

.

(Your name) cut up her breakfast with the smallest of smiles on her lips. A week had passed since her time regression and her personality has done a complete one eighty.

No longer was Countess (your name) naive and meek, she was a brighter existence with a determination to learn more knowledge. A change that startled the people around her… especially her father.

Her father, the count, seemed quite curious on the sudden change in his only daughter. (Your name) had always been a young woman interested in romance and fairytales, yet that girl was no longer sat in front of him… she was a stranger now.

“My dear, are you not interested in any sweets?” Count (last name) softly asked his daughter who hadn’t touched any of the desserts presented before her. “These have always been your favorite…”

“I’m sorry, I’m just not interested in sweets anymore.” (Your name) gave her father a soft smile. It wasn’t a lie, she lost her love of sweets in her past life when her husband had made constant comments on her body over the years.

Count (last name) frowned before he sighed. “You also haven’t sent Trishan any letters recently… is everything okay between you two?”

Ah yes… Trishan was his name. (Your name) had called him Duke Blackburn for so long that she had forgotten his name…

“I don’t think he liked me that much is all, father.” (Your name) replied softly. “Plus he’s been awfully close to Lady Serpico’s daughter, Lady Gia.”

Count (last name)’s expression quickly darkened at the mention of Lady Serpico. That nightmare of a woman had damaged the reputation of his wife many years ago before they had gotten married… could she have sent her daughter to try to do the same to his darling (your name)? Was this why she had been acting so strange? Had Duke Blackburn made his daughter feel inferior to a snake?

“I will look into it, my dear daughter.” Her father rose from the table to pat his daughter’s head in an affectionate manner. “I love you so much dear… don’t you ever forget that.”

Of course (your name) hadn’t forgotten that, that’s why she used her father’s love to her advantage. Perhaps he could free her from this fate if he annulled the engagement once he found out about the affair?

(Your name) calmly slipped her tea as a ghost of a smile crawled on her lips. She’s moved her first chest piece, she wondered if her dear fiancé would enjoy the shame?

.

.

.

Trishan shoved all the papers off his desk, his hands clutched at his chest while he struggled to breathe. Where was his fiancée? His darling fiancée?

Trishan’s blue eyes scanned the papers in hopes to spot a letter from her, the ones she used to always send him during this time.

He’s returned to the past before he was blinded by greed… before his long affair with Gia Sherpico… before (your name)’s murder. He could make it all right now since he had the chance to be the husband his beautiful, loyal wife deserved!

Trishan frowned when he hadn’t found any new letters. Was (your name) in good health? She was always such a frail woman… perhaps he should go visit her? Yes! She’d probably be so happy, she always had such a beautiful smile.

Trishan began to gather up all of the papers with a smile on his face. He had already ended things with lady Gia the moment he returned to the past, that snakelike woman wouldn’t pull the rug under him this time! He would not let her sweet lies fill his head and turn him against his darling wife. His innocent wife who had done nothing but love him…

Trishan couldn’t bear to find (your name)’s cold body again… he couldn’t live with himself if she died again. If her lips were blue and she laid in a pile of her own blood like some grotesque halo. No, he would protect her this time!

Trishan sighed dreamily at the thought of this second chance. He’d visit her this weekend with her favorite flowers, baby’s breath! They do mean every lasting love, after all!

A shame Trishan failed to realize was that a large bundle of baby’s breath smelled like feet…

.

.

.

“I’m sorry, but my daughter doesn’t wish to see you.” Trishan felt his blood run cold when he was denied entry into the Count’s home. (Your name) didn’t want to see him? This had to be some sort of sick joke! Yes… that was it.

“Very funny, Count (last name).” Trishan waved off the count as he tried to enter the estate anyways. His large bouquet of baby’s breath caused Count (Last name) even more ire.“(Your name) will be thrilled I’m here-“

“My daughter doesn’t deserve a man who can’t keep it in his pants and someone who’s gift her a bouquet that smells like feet.” The count shoved Duke Blackburn back a few steps, the baby’s breath now laid in a puddle of petals at his feet. “Good day to you!”

Trishan could only stand there in shock, his hands clutched at his chest while his breathing was ragged. It wasn’t supposed to be like this… they were supposed to start over. They were meant to be.

Trishan tried to gather up the flowers in haste but they were already too trampled to fix… he’d have to get her a new bouquet. Perhaps a better scented one at that?

Trishan glanced up at the door, hopeful that this was all a big misunderstanding. (Your name) could never hate him… her father must be keeping her away from him.

[alwaysthefool]

Your turn to be a cat (x Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier)

Warnings: Suggestive, might have minor spoilers for cat companion memories, kinda cringe ngl

Tags: Fluff (literally), MC/Reader, no gendered pronouns for you

Synopsis: This time, you’re the one who gets a cat tail and a second set of ears.

Zayne

“When you said medical emergency, this isn’t what I had in mind.” Zayne looked at your ears, a first aid kid in his hand. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since you texted him, telling him it was something dire and you couldn’t go to the hospital, and there he was, at your door, stifling a smile.

“Don’t laugh!” You scolded him, turning red, the tail you tried to hide inside your hoodie peeking out. You grabbed it immediately, forcing it back in. You pulled him inside, shutting the door to your apartment.

“Don’t fold your tail, it’ll be bad for your back.” Zayne spoke, taking off his shoes and keeping the first aid kit near the entrance. “And besides, it’s very cute.”

The tail made its way back out, and listening to your doctor’s advice, you let it be. “Help me out my hoodie.” You demanded, and Zayne couldn’t help but laugh at your tone, carefully helping you out your hoodie so as to not bother your sensitive ears, one of his hands holding down your t-shirt from riding up.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, curling up on the couch, your tail swaying against its will. Zayne made his way next to you, unable to stop himself from touching it. “It’s really soft.” He observed, his large hand stroking it lightly.

“Quit playing around!” You whined, not really wanting him to stop, but being the gentleman he was, he did, not taking revenge for how you treated him when he was a cat. “How do I make it go away?”

“Can I have a closer look at your tail?” Zayne asked, and you hissed, earning a laugh out of him. “Alright, I won’t look, but you shouldn’t be shy around your doctor, especially when you’re the one who called me here.”

“You’re not just my doctor…” You looked up at him a little hopefully, tail swaying again.

Zayne smiled. “You’re right, I suppose I’m your vet now.”

You pouted, walking away from him in feline elegance, taking your place on the adjacent arm chair, lying on it with your tail in the air. “How did you feel when you were a cat?”

“Needy.” Zayne admitted, after some thought.

Like a cat, you wanted something, but you were too proud to admit it. “Then…” You sat up on the chair, gazing at him, tail swaying behind you. “How do you, how do you… how do you think I must be feeling right now?” You shied away immediately, cat ears perking up.

Zayne would take care of you, no matter what, so before you knew it, you were on his lap, his large hands stroking your ears. “If you wanted me, you should’ve just said so.”

You purred, nuzzling on his chest, holding on to him tightly, as his hands worked on your ears and tail. “You knew.”

“Maybe.” Zayne spoke into your ear. Your heightened senses could listen to his racing heart, and his gushing blood. “But I really wanted to hear you ask.”

Rafayel

Honestly, he’d be EMPATHETHIC loool

You were supposed to accompany him for an event, but as you put on your dress, you felt cold from behind. Looking in the mirror, you saw a tail pulling your dress up, and a pair of ears on your head. You yelped, turning the lights off, and hiding in a corner. This couldn’t be happening.

“Cutie, what was that?” Rafayel called from outside the door. You had the misfortune of being at his house when it happened too. You quietly opened the window, to make it seem like maybe you ran away. You would, too, but you couldn’t be seen in public like that.

“I’m coming in!” Rafayel called upon hearing the sound of the window opening. You quietly hid under his bed.

Rafayel was already in his suit and tie, giving off a certain scent which made him seem oddly delectable.

“Where did you go…” He mumbled, looking at the open window. You could only see his feet now, so you couldn’t tell what he was doing, until your phone buzzed. You scrambled to turn it silent, when Rafayel crouched down, peeking under the bed.

Before you knew it, you scratched him with a hiss.

“Ow!” He stood back up, and you could smell his blood. You didn’t expect yourself to do that, or for the scratch to draw blood.

You crawled out, standing up to look at his hand. “I’m so sorry!” As you realised what you did, you took your hands away from his wounded hand, trying to hide your tail.

“I, uh…” You couldn’t meet Rafayel’s eyes, scared of what he was thinking.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Rafayel sighed. “I thought a cat sneaked in.”

He saw your tail lifting up your dress, and wrapped his coat around your waist. You still turned away from him, looking guilty. “Cutie, look at me.” He called gently. “It was just a scratch, and you didn’t mean it.”

You looked up at him, and his face was gentle, nothing like you expected. “Why did you hide from me?” He asked, his hands on your cheeks.

“I thought you’d be disgusted of me. I’m a cat, after all.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He coaxed you, pulling you into a hug. “I could never be disgusted by you. I told you before, right? I’d love you even if you were a worm.”

You let out a laugh, hugging him back, pulling him down on the bed behind you. He kept holding you, surprised by the sudden affection. “And you’re also the only cute cat in the world.”

Sylus

SUGGESTIVE

This was bad. Sylus would never let you live it down, but you also had no choice but to tell him. Your first thought after being turned into half a cat was volunteering at the cat café, so you’d get to spend time around the kitties, but that isn’t what the OTTO had in mind when giving you that outfit. Now you needed someone to help you out there.

“Are you done?” The OTTO asked, its tone irritated.

You remained dead silent, texting Sylus to ‘smash that devilish robot into pieces’.

You heard commotion outside, then some banging, thinking maybe, finally, Sylus had arrived, leaning your ear against the door.

“Loving the new look, sweetie.” Sylus was somehow behind you, hand already on your tail. You immediately turned around to see him gaze fondly at you, who was sat leaning against the door. “Guess you’ve been affected by the cat evol too.”

You looked away from his strong gaze, suddenly very aware of what OTTO made you wear. A short maid dress, with an opening at the back for your tail, and chiffon gloves with a cat paw stitched on them. Before you could change back, the sinister robot stole your clothes.

“I’m pleased you decided to call me in such a situation.”

“Shut up…” You mumbled.

“That’s no way to speak to the person who saved you, kitten.” This time, that word held a whole new meaning.

“I’m… sorry.” You forced, ears drooping down. You looked up at him with a pout, and he pet you behind the ears. You rubbed your head against his head, until you realised what you were doing, forcing yourself to stop. You cleared your throat.

“That’s rare coming from you.” He teased, fingers dancing around your jaw. There was a certain scent to them, so you bit him, though not hard enough to draw blood. Sylus winced, pulling back. “There’s the kitten I know.”

“Did you bring a change of clothes like I asked?”

Sylus hummed in response, not really focusing on anything other than playing with your hair and ears, hands trickling down to where your tail was, pulling at the ribbons of the dress, acting more like a cat than you. You leaned in to him, and he placed a gentle kiss on the back of your neck.

Understanding where this was going, you reluctantly held his arm. “Mm, let’s not, I’m super hairy right now.” You said, referring to all the cat fuzz.

“That’s fine.” Sylus whispered into your ear. “I prefer it like that.”

Xavier

“Ugh…” You groaned, still sleepy. You had work pending, but for some reason, you couldn’t keep your eyes open despite having a lot of sleep and a cup of coffee, Knowing Xavier was often in the same predicament, you went to his floor, hoping he had some insanely potent energy drinks on him.

He opened the door, also groggy, but straightening up when he saw you. “Hey.” You greeted, intending to yawn but letting out a ‘meow’ instead.

“That was strange.” You tried to laugh it off. Xavier let you inside, and you explained that you were uncharacteristically sleepy the whole day.

“How do you manage to stay up?” You were sat on his fuzzy carpet, pulling at it.

Xavier smiled, sitting down next to you. “I think there might be another reason you’re so sleepy today.” He opened his phone’s front camera, facing it towards you.

“W-what’s that?” You cried, hands going towards the ears on your head and tail behind you.

“Cats might need up to 16 hours of sleep a day.” Xavier put his phone down, leaning his elbow on the coffee table, his other hand gently touching your ear. “If you have work, I’ll do it for you.”

“Really?” Your tail moved in excitement.

Xavier nodded, as he went downstairs to get your laptop. You prowled around his house, trying to fall asleep on his bed, then looking in his fridge for something to eat, restless and impatient, irritated that you were unable to fall asleep despite being sleepy. You looked for several spots, but nothing was snug enough.

That was until you saw Xavier typing your mission reports on his laptop. You crawled over to him on all fours, setting your head down on his lap. He gave your head a few scratches, helping you fall asleep.

Despite not being a cat anymore, Xavier couldn’t help feel sleepy seeing you safely under him. Perhaps cats could sense people’s feelings, because you spoke, half asleep “Put that aside Xavi, come cuddle with me.”

Eventually, the work was discarded, and Xavier held you on his couch, legs intertwined, head buried in his chest, his arms around you protectively, pretty dreams and soft feelings warm enough for you to get through whatever your supervisors would have to say.

[promisingyounglady]

watermelons. | JS x Reader

SYNOPSIS: Jake loves ur boobs. That’s it really.

PAIRING: Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: written for all my big tit girlies, from a big tit girlie herself.

He’s been obsessed with the girls since he first saw them.

And by the girls, he means your tits.

Like just imagine, cocky little top gun aviator, Jake Seresin, turning into a complete mess first glance at you. Spilling his beer all over his tan golden chest that one summer afternoon at the beach with the dagger squad, just because he saw you in your denim shorts and yellow halter top.

And they sit so nicely, your tits. Full, large, and beautiful.

The breeze carries the scent of salt, the air humid and yet all jake can do is stare at the girl with the sweet smile and pretty tits, laughing loudly with her friends on the Hard Deck patio.

“So you’re just gonna stare like a creep or what?” Bradley’s low voice calls out beside him, crossing his arms across his chest as he adjusts his aviator sunglasses, muscles glistening as well under the heat. He whistles softly when he sees you, to which Jake shoves his friend away playfully, annoyed that he’s looking at you too.

“Back off, Bradshaw”

And so next thing he knows, he’s by your side, immediately serenading you with his charming smile and kind eyes.

“Hi sweetheart”

It’s so fucking cheesy and simple, and yet it works on you. You’re spinning around, eyes going wide at the firm, golden chest your face to face with and the way Jake just looms over you, hands on his hips, sweaty and golden from a match of beach football.

“Would you allow me to buy the pretty girl and her friends a drink?” He asks your friend group, sending a wink that makes the girls swoon.

“Oh my fuck” slips out from one of your friends behind you, the group gawking at the sight of the tall, handsome man in front of them.

And she was right. Oh my fuck indeed.

All it took was one line of southern drawl and you were hooked.

That night when Jake has you pinned against the alleyway wall outside of the bar, both your cheeks hot and the breeze cooler, you stare up at the man you had just spent the whole day flirting to.

“So you’re stationed here for a few months?” you breathe out, staring at his broad chest and chiseled jaw, feeling so small under his gaze. You gasp when his hand shifts closer, holding your waist firm in his grasp.

He nods, no need for words when he’s busy admiring you as well. The tall man gently nestles his lips beside your ear, whispering praises as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

You shut your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at the proximity and sheer sensuality of it all.

“Can I touch you?” He asks pulling away, looking at your eyes with something more than just lust.

You smile, chest heaving as you replied coyly. “Where do you want to touch me?”

Jake is starstruck at your words, trying so hard to shield you from the world under his arms and selfishly have you all for himself.

You take both his hands in yours and wrap them over your hips, letting them grab the mounds of your flesh and groan, feeling his hard on pressing against your front.

“feel me. and show me where you want to touch me most” you gasp, eyes shutting closed.

Jake pulls his hands away to caress your cheeks, taking your face as he presses his lips against yours.

“Here” he says under his breath. That was where he wanted to touch you most.

The kiss is deep, soft under the starry beach sky.

The same hands slide down to softly squeeze your tits, and that’s when you know that was the second spot he wanted to touch most. You smirk against the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing into him further.

Jake Seresin was a tits guy.

So when Jake comes home to his apartment after a year of steady dating, he’s already making a beeline to find you, settling on the fact that you must be in the laundry room finishing up the chores.

You don’t even have time to greet your boyfriend properly before he’s shoving his face in your tits and smacking a kiss to each one.

“Jake, what is up with you?” You giggled, shocked at how needy and hot he was. “I didn’t know they let you off early”

He sighs, taking them in his strong hands and pressing a kiss to each breast again.

“Just missed my girls, that’s all” he groans, holding you closer as you give him a hug.

you rolled your eyes, watching as he continue to rub them softly, pressing a kiss to your collar bone.

“I cut up the watermelon, it’s in the fridge” you told him, pulling him away to press a peck to his cheek.

You took the laundry basket, propping it against your hip as you smiled when Jake called out while pouting at the loss of contact.

“Not the melons I need!” he exasperates, trailing after you quickly.

[undressrehearsal]

dare to be stupid

summary: a drunken game of truth or dare overtakes your study session

tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs, alcohol, drunk sex, oral (r receiving)

a/n: listen idk how this turned into 7.5k. idk what happened. also this is my first time writing smut. idk if the sex is good but it was already so long. if y'all like this one i'll write a sequel or something idk

part 2

“Truth or dare?” 

It had become a tradition for the two of you shortly after moving in together. It was common for the air in your tiny apartment to grow heavy, the stress and anxiety tangible in the air - often around midterms or finals, or if your roommate had a particularly infuriating project. During these times when the bags under your eyes grew too heavy to carry or the lines around your roommate's mouth deepened into canyons, one of you would barge into the other's bedroom - frequently in disarray with notes and textbooks strewn across every surface - slam a bottle of vodka down on the desk, and utter those stupid, little three words, and the game would begin.

And so you didn't even jump when you heard your bedroom door slam against the wall, heavy boots against the carpet. You had been bent over your desk for so long that your neck ached, your eyes swimming with letters that didn't quite make sense and didn't fit into any of the medical terms laid out on your flashcards. When Ellie slammed the bottle of vodka on your desk, you blinked your eyes clear and looked up to meet her eyes. 

She smirked when she said, “Truth or dare?” 

You didn't waste time in clearing off your desk, shoving your books and cards aside into a toppling pile. Ellie, without waiting for permission, set a shot glass down in front of you, kicked off her boots, and plopped back onto your bed. 

Scooting your chair closer, you propped your feet up against the mattress, pursed your lips, and said, “Truth.” 

Ellie groaned, flopping over onto her side and propping her chin in her hand. She had stripped off her jacket, leaving her in a dark t-shirt that almost made her skin look pale in the low light from your desk lamp. “You're such a fucking pussy.” 

You rolled your eyes even as a grin pulled at your lips. “I've known you for too long, Els, and I know that I need a few shots before I'm willing to shove anything anywhere for your amusement. So, respectfully, eat my ass.” 

“You'll have to dare me to,” she quipped back immediately. She wrinkled her nose as you choked back a laugh, tapping a finger against her lips. You tried to ignore how endlessly cute it was as she said, “Where's the weirdest place you've pissed?” 

Another sound burst from your lips, some mixture of a laugh and a shout. You gaped at her, watching as a laugh crept up, a smile tugging at her lips. 

Shaking your head, you said, “Weird, but that's a pretty tame one. Not gonna ask me about my favorite sex position or if I ever snuck drugs into our dorm room last year?” 

Ellie only shrugged. “Gotta warm you up a bit first, babe.” You ignored the way your heart jumped at such an innocent word. After a moment's pause, she added, “But have you?” 

“You'll just have to ask me. One truth per round, bitch.” You pretended to think about it for a moment, though you already had your answer. “Okay, so you remember when we first signed the lease here and we were a bit short on rent?” 

Ellie nodded, her brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Like, a week before it was due, some girl on Tinder hit me up. She was passing through town and only staying for the night, and she was bored. So, she paid me.” 

Ellie's frown deepened. “To, what, have sex with her?” 

Laughter bubbled up your chest as you said, “No, she paid me to piss in her mouth.” 

There was silence for several long moments. Ellie’s jaw hung loose, her eyes wide as she simply stared at you. Several emotions flashed across her face like a movie reel - confusion, shock, disbelief - before finally landing on pure, unfiltered amusement. The corners of her lips quirked up, her open mouth turning up at the corners until a loud, sharp laugh burst from her throat. When Ellie laughed - really, truly laughed - she did it with her chest, a sound so fathomless and full it filled up whatever room she was in. 

In your small bedroom, her laughter bounced off the walls, echoing in the alley outside of your open window. You couldn’t contain your own giggles, muffling your laughter with a hand over your mouth, snorting as Ellie buried her face in your mattress. 

When she finally looked up, her eyes filled with tears, she only said, around her subdued giggles, “How much?” 

You grinned. “$200.” 

Ellie’s mouth fell open again - you’d have to pick it up from the floor at this rate. “Dude, you’re fucking with me.” 

“I swear,” you said, holding up your hand like a scout. “I’ll show you the Venmo if you don’t believe me.”

Ellie fell back against the bed, throwing her head back. “You have to go find this chick on Missed Connections, she can help with the rent.” 

You threw one of your pens at her. Catching it in midair, she stuck the end in her mouth to chew on it. You wrinkled your nose at her, but she only grinned, the pen hanging from the corner of her lips. 

“You're so gross,” you said, though you were still giggling. 

“Bold words from you, Piss Girl. That's, like, the worst superhero name in existence.” 

You threw your hands up, trying your hardest to glare at her and failing miserably. “Hey, $200 is $200. I'm not one to kinkshame.” Ellie threw the pen back at you. You grimaced when it hit your arm, leaving a small spot of spit on your sleeve before clattering to the floor. “God, it's your turn. Truth or dare, bitch?”

Propping herself up on her elbows, Ellie said, “Dare.” A grin pulled at her lips, her voice low as she added, “Because I'm not a fucking pussy.” You stuck your tongue out at her, ignoring her when she mockingly said, “Mature.” 

Your desk was pressed up next to the only window in the room, cracked open to let the cool autumn air in. Your curtains fluttered in the breeze, the dying sunlight creeping in, casting light like liquid gold over Ellie’s skin. As you thought, scrambling to think of a suitable dare, you could not control how your eyes grazed over her exposed skin, the sunlight dipping in her collarbones like pools of ichor. 

Blinking, you met her eyes once more, your throat tight. Your words came out almost choked when you said, “Okay, I dare you to make a spicy two-sentence story about something in this room.”

Ellie scoffed, sitting up and kicking her legs over the side of your bed. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that your drawer of sex toys is off limits?” 

You sputtered, stammering over your own tongue as you felt heat rush to your ears. “Yes, that’s off limits. You don’t even know what’s in there!” 

Ellie hummed, standing up from the bed and taking a few steps around the room. She didn’t look at you, but you could hear that fucking smirk when she said, “That’s what you think, babe.” 

You watched her, tracking her movements as she slowly stepped around your room, scanning for inspiration. Your bedroom was about what you’d expect from a broke, overworked college student - aside from the furniture that came with the place, it was pretty barren. Ellie scanned the little touches you did have - her finger traced over the Funko Pop of Zuko on your bedside table, her eyes lingering on the pile of fantasy books you kept atop your dresser. She smiled at the posters hung crookedly on your walls, depictions of your favorite video games. She hummed again, looking back at you over her shoulder. 

“So many options to choose from,” she murmured, running her finger along your jewelry box. She had her face turned away, so you could only see the corner of her smirk as she lifted the lid, pulling one of your necklaces from its home. You watched her warily as she approached you, the chain dangling from her slim fingers. She stepped behind you, out of your line of sight, and slipped the necklace over your head, the cold metal resting against your collarbone. 

“She looped the chain around her lover’s neck like a collar,” Ellie said. You felt her cool fingers against the back of your neck, hooking around the chain and pulling it gently against your throat. You coughed against the awkward silence; your roommate had always been a little handsy, but this was something else entirely. What the fuck is she doing? you thought. “She pulled it taut against her throat and leaned in to whisper,” you felt Ellie’s lips against your ear, her rough voice sending a chill up your spine when she murmured, “good girl.”

Reaching back, you shoved Ellie’s head away; her laughter echoed through the room as she rounded in front of you, sitting back against your bed and grinning. 

“Oh, you’re so fucking proud of yourself aren’t you?” you teased, trying - and failing - to keep your cheeks from turning red. Your skin felt aflame, a tingle lingering right where Ellie’s lips had pressed to your ear. You rubbed at the spot under the pretense of scratching your head, willing the feeling to go away. 

Your heart was pounding so hard you could hardly hear her when she said, “Hell yeah, I am. I should’ve been an English major. I could write a whole fucking slutty novel and get famous. I'm an expert - I've done enough research.” 

You rolled your eyes at her cocky smile, but Ellie only winked at you. 

This is how your truth or dare games went - with Ellie being far too cocky, prancing around doing whatever dares you could think of and asking any outrageous questions that popped into her pretty little head; and you, simply trying your damnedest to keep up with her. You flailed, flustered, when she asked you about your toy collection, and begrudgingly relented when she dared you to bring out your favorite. Ellie took a shot before you had even finished daring her to text her last hookup (“I’m not reopening that bag of crazy,” she said, scrunching her nose at the taste.) You took a shot when she dared you to go mix all of the liquids in the fridge (which included pickle juice, old broths, and orange juice) into one amalgamation and chug it (“I’d rather chug the rest of the vodka, Els.”) 

“Truth,” you said before Ellie could even ask the question. You were three shots in and could feel that lightness pressing against your temples, just at the threshold of tipsy. You had moved to join Ellie on your bed, where you sat with your back against the headboard and Ellie’s head on your thigh. The vodka bottle was balanced precariously between you. 

Ellie rolled her eyes, but looked up at you and asked, “Out of our friend group, who have you fantasized about the most?” 

She had not even finished her sentence before you served yourself a shot, a few drops splattering on your shirt. Wincing at the taste, you looked back down at Ellie; her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree, her jaw slack.

“Don’t-” 

“You have to,” she interrupted you, pinching your thigh and grinning when you squirmed away. “You have to tell me. You can’t leave me hanging here - you didn’t even let me finish the question!” 

“Why did you even assume I’ve fantasized about any of our friends-” 

“Because I know you.” She was scrambling up now, unsteady in her movements as she came to her knees in front of you, leaning back against her heels. She planted a firm hand on your thigh - your skin was still warm where her head had been - leaning into it, her eyes drawing so close you could almost see every speck within the hazel. “And I know that bitches like us always have somebody in the group they fantasize about. So, who is it?” 

“Bitches like us?” you repeated, raising your brow. You were sure each line of her palm was going to be branded into your thigh. “So, there’s somebody you think about too?” 

Ellie’s smile was on the very edge of teasing, a small quirk at the corner of her lips that screamed at you just how wrapped around her finger you were - and, somehow, she didn’t even know it. Her voice was low, nothing more than a murmur that you could practically feel in your own chest when she said, “You really wanna know?” You didn’t answer - couldn’t, really, not when her fingers dug into your thigh and you could count each freckle across her nose. You couldn’t answer when she leaned in closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheeks, smelling of the weed you knew she had smoked that afternoon. You could hardly hear her over the rush of your own heart when she whispered, “You’ll just have to ask me.” 

Maybe it was the vodka warming your chest, tingling in your fingers - or maybe it was the way the light from your lamp cast sharp shadows across Ellie’s face, turning her skin into liquid gold - but you did not push her away. Your grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, but you held her gaze when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 

Her voice was soft, her half-lidded eyes holding yours as she said, “Truth.” 

“Who have you fantasized about?” The words rushed out of you before you could hesitate.

And for a moment, you believed she would answer. You let yourself believe that she would give you the answer you craved. It prickled at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arm, spreading warmth through your stomach. But your roommate had never been so straight-foward - had never given you an easy answer. She wet her lips, drawing your eyes to her mouth involuntarily, but she only pried the vodka bottle from your fingers. She held your gaze as she raised it to her lips, drinking straight from the bottle without even wincing. 

“I can play that game too, baby.” She backed away, finally giving you a moment to breathe. She settled back against the wall, laying her arms over her knees, the bottle dangling from her fingers. The skin of your thigh still burned, branded with her fingerprints. 

You looked away, huffing out a laugh that you prayed sounded sincere. You could feel her eyes on you when you leaned your head back against the wall, counting the cracks in your ceiling like they were the most interesting thing in the whole world. “It’s getting late, Els,” you said, even as your phone flashed that it wasn’t even nine yet and here you were, too many shots in, your roommate’s presence like a fire blazing in your room. “I should get back to studying.” 

“Do you want to, though?” There was an edge to Ellie’s voice, as though that question was a dare itself. You lifted your head to look at her and found that she was already watching you, her eyes soft in the dim light. 

You took a deep breath - and the vodka must have reached your brain, because before she could ask, you said, “Dare.”

You could see the vodka in the lazy tilt of her smile, in the way her head lolled against the wall. Her eyes were half-lidded, and yet there was something hidden behind her slow, sleepy gaze, something you were too afraid to name - something you were sure was only the imagination of your tipsy fantasies. 

“Close your eyes,” Ellie said, words lazily falling from her lips, as deep and rich as the strings of a guitar. 

It took you several moments longer than usual to process what she had said. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, as if the two of you were underwater. You shouldn't have felt like this after a few shots - you'd usually only be tipsy at this point. But something about the way the shadows dipped into Ellie's collarbones and the way her shirt rode up, exposing her boxers and the sharp cut of her hips, was intoxicating on its own. 

So it took you several long, heavy moments to say, “What?” 

She chuckled, but there was no malice behind it. There was something soft in the tilt of her head, the way she tilted her chin down to look at you through her lashes. Her hair fell in her face, brushing against her nose; you fought the urge to brush it away, knowing that if you did you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from running your fingers through her hair. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself from grabbing a fistful of the auburn strands- 

“Close your eyes,” she repeated in that same honey-thick voice, breaking you from your thoughts. “For thirty seconds. And don't open them no matter what.” When you only stared at her for several silent moments, she added, “How long have we been friends? Don't you trust me?” 

And the thing was, you did. You trusted her with your entire heart, and so you closed your eyes, and you waited. 

You felt the bed shift next to you but you did not open your eyes. You did not open them when you felt her long fingers grip your shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. You felt her hair first, fine strands brushing against your cheek, smelling of sweat and her shampoo. You did not open your eyes, even when you felt the gentle press of a warm mouth against the side of your neck. You hardly dared to even breathe, your hands tangling in your sheets, afraid that you would not be able to control yourself otherwise. You counted the long, torturous seconds, biting down on your lip when you felt Ellie’s mouth part, the warmth of her tongue pressing against your pulse. 

You had counted to twenty-six when she pulled away, a chill settling over your skin where that warmth had been only seconds ago. When you got to thirty, you opened your eyes to find that Ellie had settled back into her spot, leaning back against the wall. The only sign that she had even moved was the thin sheen over her lips, wet with her own saliva, and a small, pleased smirk. 

You did not allow yourself to think about it, ignoring the way your skin burned where she had touched you as though she were a wildfire. You sounded breathless even to your own ears when you said, in barely more than a whisper, “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.”

“What are we doing here, Ellie?” The words were out before you could stop them, slipping from between your teeth and hanging in the air like helium. The words felt almost tangible, and yet you couldn't grasp them, couldn't draw them back into your throat. 

For a moment, you thought Ellie would grace you with an answer. She opened her mouth, and you thought maybe she would finally stop playing this game and let you breathe. Instead, just like before, she brought the bottle to her lips and held your gaze. You tried not to watch the way her throat moved as she swallowed. 

She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and recapped the bottle, settling it between you. “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” You felt you could no longer trust yourself with any dare she gave you. Your hands were already shaking from clenching the sheets.

“How would you rate your last kiss?” 

You squinted at her, confused by the innocence of the question after everything that had happened in the past hour (had it only been an hour?). “My last kiss was with that one girl I met at the bar a few weeks ago. She was drunk and way too sloppy, but she was hot. I guess I'd give it,” you paused, trying to remember the moment past the haze; you couldn't even remember the girl's name, “a six.” 

Ellie raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening. “A six?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “You’ve got to be fucking with me. A girl like you deserves more than a six.” 

“A girl like me?” Your voice sounded deafening in the quiet. You thought it had started to rain; you could hear the pitter patter on your window, could see the way it broke up the streetlamps outside like a mosaic. 

Ellie was nodding almost absently, watching the rain. Her lips parted, and you didn’t expect her to hesitate before she said, “Yeah. A girl like you… deserves to be kissed like it’s the last gasp of air to someone drowning.” You watched her mouth as she spoke, even as your mind screamed at you to look away. You scolded yourself, screaming to end this now, but your body refused; it ached to draw her near, a tangible pain in your chest. “A girl like you should get one of those movie kisses - you know, like when the hero saves the day and shit and he kisses his girl and it’s like the world didn’t matter as long as he saved her. The kind that has the whole fucking theater holding their breath. A girl like you…. Fuck….” She trailed off her rambling. Ellie ran a rough hand through her hair, making the strands stick up at odd angles, and finally looked at you. There was a fire in her eyes, blazing in the dim light. “You deserve to be kissed like they’ll die if they can’t have you.” 

Something had stopped in your chest - maybe it was your breath, maybe it was your heart. Your blood rushed in your ears, and you feared the thrum of your heartbeat was so loud it filled your entire bedroom. Your traitorous heart pressed at your bedroom walls, filling up the space and leaving room for little else. 

Your voice was only a whisper, and you wanted to kick yourself when you said, “We should really go to bed. I have an exam tomorrow.” 

Your roommate pressed her lips together, and she did not break eye contact as she said, “Dare.” 

You shook your head, looking away from her to try, desperately, to break whatever spell had taken hold of you; but your eyes were drawn back to her as if she were the only fucking light in the dark. You had to get a hold of yourself before you did something you’d regret, but you felt intoxicated with something far stronger than the cheap vodka you had bought from Walmart. 

“You’re drunk, Els,” you said, and you sounded so breathless you may as well have given up then and there. 

Ellie leaned closer, holding your gaze, and you could see the exact shade of desire in her eyes. She was so fucking warm - your head spun from it, heat radiating from her skin when she planted a hand on the bed right next to your hip. Her wrist brushed against the bare skin under your shorts, and you felt her voice vibrating in your chest when she said, “Dare.” 

And it was like she had finally pulled the last fucking thread that made you unravel, because you couldn’t stop yourself - didn’t even think to - before you said, “Kiss me.” 

You only had a second to register the smile pulling at the edges of Ellie’s lips before she grabbed your face and pulled you in to smother it. You had never imagined what kissing Ellie would be like - had never allowed your imagination to wander so far over the edge - but she did not kiss like she was drowning. She kissed with the same slow gentleness as when she played the guitar, her long fingers plucking at the strings with the careful deliberation of a lover. 

And she felt so fucking warm. You were high with it; high with the heat radiating from her fingers pressed to your cheeks; high from the way her breath snaked past your parted lips, gentle huffs of warmth against your skin. Your head swam as you pressed into her, your hands tangling into the fabric of her shirt, fingers unsure even as you ached to pull her closer. 

Ellie pulled back for a moment - for only a moment, but each second her lips weren't on yours caused an ache in your chest. Her eyes hovered inches from yours, so fucking green it was dizzying - though you couldn't see much of the color passed the eclipse of her pupils. Her cheeks were flushed - from the vodka, from something else entirely - her freckles popping against the color. You could only imagine how you looked, could feel the desire written across every inch of your face. 

Your fists tightened in her shirt, and you used the leverage to pull her back into you; and suddenly, it felt like you were the one drowning. You couldn’t breathe as Ellie devoured you, the gentleness replaced with a hunger you hadn’t known lived inside her. She pressed her tongue against the seam of your mouth until you relented, opening up to her, a soft sound escaping your throat when her tongue ran along the roof of your mouth. 

That sound - nothing more than a breathy sigh - ignited something in Ellie. Suddenly, she was all teeth and tongue and hot, hot breath in your mouth, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down when a shaky sigh forced its way from your throat, soothing it with her tongue and swallowing the moan it elicited. Her hands were in your hair, the strands twisted between her fingers, and when you bit down on her lip, she pulled - you gasped at the sharp pain on your scalp. 

“Fuck,” she cursed against your lips, and you could feel that single syllable, hot breath in your mouth that you wanted to swallow. She didn’t continue for a long time, couldn’t form any other words past the way her lips made you unravel. Her hands trailed down your shoulders, fingers grazing lightly over the bare skin of your arms, before finding your hips, gripping them in a vice and tugging you closer. “Fuck, come here,” she said, her voice nothing more than a low growl that you felt in your chest. 

And you were drunk - from the cheap vodka and sleep deprivation and Ellie. You were drunk on the way her eyes were eclipsed, her lips red and bitten and swollen, parted so you could feel each exhale against your cheeks. Her eyes were dark, hooded. Her fingers dug into your hips, and you were drunk, but shit, how the hell could you say no to her? How could you possibly say no when she was looking at you like she was starving? 

Her hands guided you closer so you swung a leg over her hips and settled in her lap, your hands braced on her shoulders. She leaned her head back against the wall and just looked at you for several long moments, biting down on her lip. You couldn’t stop watching her mouth, mesmerized as she said, “Fuck, look at you.” 

And then she was kissing you again, her hands gripping your hips like it was a lifeline. Your hands found their way to her hair, curling your fingers in the short locks, using it as leverage to pull her closer. You could feel how each point of your body fit into hers; your thighs against her legs, her hands curling perfectly over the swell of your hips. You could feel the swell of her breasts against your chest, and you so badly wanted to feel her skin against yours. You felt like you’d go crazy from the raw want radiating from your body. 

Ellie’s lips traced a map across your cheek, down your jawline. You tilted your head so she could kiss the hinge of your jaw, the spot right below your ear. She paused there, planting hot, open-mouth kisses across your neck, before her teeth bit down on that sensitive spot, pulling the skin into her mouth, and you practically melted into her. You couldn’t control the sounds falling from your lips like honey, gripping at her hair as she soothed the bruise with her tongue. 

“Ellie….” Your voice was nothing more than a whimper; you swallowed hard and tried again, pressing a hand firmly at her shoulder. “Ellie.” 

She only hummed against your skin, and you could feel the vibration against your pulse. The sound went straight to your stomach and dipped even lower when she bit at your collarbone. 

The next time you said her name, it came out as a moan; you cleared your throat. “We can’t do this - you’re drunk, Els.” 

Your roommate hummed again, but she relented, leaning her head back against the wall to look up at you. And - fuck. Her lips were red and swollen, still wet from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, and - God, her eyes. You had never understood the term bedroom eyes, but Ellie looked at you as though she wanted to devour you. Like any second her hands weren’t on you was torture. Like she wanted to bite and kiss and taste every inch of your skin. 

“Truth or dare,” she said, her voice so hoarse you had to clench your thighs around her hips. 

“What?” 

“Truth or dare,” she repeated, her eyes never leaving yours. And this wasn’t part of the game, but you played along anyway, unable and unwilling to tell her no. 

“Truth,” you sighed. 

One of Ellie’s hands traced up your side. She ran her fingers across your collarbone, up your throat, before stopping to cup your jaw, her skin rough against yours. “Do you want this?” 

You nodded, the vodka making it impossible to feel shy. 

“How long have you wanted this?” Ellie’s thumb pressed at the seam of your lips, and you let your mouth fall open. She watched, hypnotized, dipping just the tip of her thumb between your lips before withdrawing. 

It was against the rules - two questions for one truth - but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “A long fucking time.” Your voice was weak and breathy, and you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about that either. Your attention had narrowed in on Ellie, and the way her fingers skirted across your chest, the way her other hand gripped your hip - how you could feel the warmth of her thighs between your legs. 

Taking your chin in her hand, she drew you closer, and you could feel her lips moving against yours: “So what the hell is stopping us?” 

This time, when she kissed you, you did melt into her. You gripped her hair in your fists and swallowed the moan it drew from her, shivering when her teeth caught on your lip. She had both hands on your hips again, and she gripped them so hard you were sure you’d find bruises there in the morning in the shape of her fingers. She pulled you closer, pulling your hips down into her; the friction through your pajama shorts made you moan against her lips. 

And you decided to play her game. 

“Truth or dare?” you said, drawing away just enough to see the eclipse of her eyes. 

Ellie, always stubborn, murmured, “Dare.” 

You tugged at the hem of her shirt, your fingers brushing the warm skin beneath; you marveled at the shiver that ran through her body. You ducked your head to kiss along her jaw, pressing the words into her skin. “Take this off.” 

She didn’t waste any time tugging the shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor before skidding her fingers over the bare skin above your shorts. You lifted your arms and let her pull your shirt over your head before realizing you weren’t wearing anything beneath. Who wears a bra to study in their own apartment? 

But you didn’t have a moment to cover your body in embarrassment before Ellie’s lips were on you again, as if it pained her to not taste you for even a moment. Her hands spread across your back, pulling you into her as she peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses across your collar; you hissed when her teeth bit down over your collarbone, soothing the pain with her tongue. 

“Tell me to stop and I'll stop,” Ellie said, her voice muffled as she kissed down over your chest; you shivered when her teeth sank into the skin of your boob, sucking another bruise there. She certainly loved leaving her signature on any inch of your skin that her mouth could reach. 

You groaned low in your chest, your fingers tugging at her hair, pulling a gasp from her lips. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice - breathy and thick with desire - when you said, “Please don’t stop.” 

The next thing you knew, Ellie was shoving you off of her lap; your back hit the mattress, your head just barely missing the headboard, but you couldn’t even think about that. Your roommate was crawling over you, and you were hypnotized by the way her muscles tensed, her arms caging you against the bed. Her skin was fucking obscene, smooth plains stretching for miles, cast in liquid gold in the lamplight.

“God, look at you,” she said again, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. Her hand was like worn clay when it traced a teasing line over your hip. Her voice was muffled against your skin, but you caught the end of her sentence: “- so fucking pretty.” 

Your only response was a choked gasp when Ellie pressed the flat of her tongue to your nipple. You gripped her shoulder, feeling her lips close around you as she sucked your skin into her mouth; you winced when she released it, feeling her teeth graze maddeningly over your nipple. 

“Truth or dare?” she said into your skin, her voice vibrating in your bones. 

You groaned, gripping her shoulder when she licked a line over your other nipple. If you had thought about this (which, if anybody asked, you didn’t), you never would have imagined your roommate being such a fucking tease. 

She hummed, and you could feel the vibration in every nerve. For a moment, you couldn’t find your tongue, your voice caught in your chest until she released your skin with a pop of her lips. She looked up at you, batting her eyes, and dammit if your body didn’t arch, searching for her mouth again. 

Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched you through her lashes, an intoxicating smirk across her lips; they were still shining wetly. She broke you from your thoughts when she murmured, “Use your words, angel.” 

Your thighs clenched around her words, automatically and unconsciously. You were sure you could get drunk on the way her voice filled the room, rough and rich as the chords she played. It was through clenched teeth that you said, setting your pride aside, “Dare.” Your cheeks burned when it came out as a moan. 

You could feel her smile against your skin as she kissed down your stomach, silent for several long, torturous moments. You felt her teeth sink into your hip bone briefly, your hips jerking at the sensation. It earned you a chuckle before you felt Ellie’s hands pressing your hips into the mattress, holding you still. You groaned low in your throat when you felt her tongue against the skin over the band of your shorts, licking a stripe right above the fabric before taking the elastic between her teeth and tugging. You jumped when she released it, the band snapping back against your skin. You didn’t have to look at her to see the sparkle in her eye. 

You swore your heart stopped completely when she murmured, “I wanna go down on you.” 

Despite this game she was insistent on playing, it wasn’t said like a dare; it was said like a question, or a request. There was no expectation behind it. Ellie was asking, you realized with dizzying satisfation, for permission. 

“Fuck.” It came out as only a breath, a whisper against your tongue. Your fingers ached from gripping the sheets and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck,” you tried again, and it was a groan this time but at least it was louder. “Yeah. Yeah, please, fuck.” Words were just falling from your lips because when you looked down, Ellie - your roommate, your friend - was watching you, propped between your legs with that fucking smirk, and how could you possibly string together a complete sentence? 

And Ellie… didn’t. She didn’t follow up on her dare. Not immediately, at least. No, she took her sweet fucking time - always so damn precise, taking her time in hooking her fingers over the band of your shorts. She pulled them down so slowly you could feel every inch down your legs. And then you were lying beneath your roommate in nothing but your underwear - and dammit, if you had known this would be happening, you would have opted for something a little sexier than a cotton pair with constellations on them. 

Ellie smiled. “Cute,” she said, before sinking her teeth into the flesh of your thigh. You were thankful it was cold out - you’d have to wear layers to hide all the places her mouth had been. 

Your roommate ducked her head, and you gasped when you felt her press a featherlight kiss against the fabric of your underwear, right where warmth pooled between your legs. 

You huffed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. “God, you’re such an asshole - fuck-” You were cut off when Ellie licked a stripe up your panties, warm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit. You moaned at the relief, feeling the wetness of her mouth through the fabric. It wasn’t enough - you needed to feel her against you, needed her tongue to unravel you piece by piece. You pressed your hips down against her lips but her hands held you in place. 

You huffed out a breath, her name slipping from your lips when you moaned. “Ellie….” 

And then she was yanking your underwear down your hips; you gasped, lifting your ass to help her shove them down. She had only gotten them just below your knees before she was pressing back in, too impatient to finish the job. 

And - fuck, her mouth. Ellie’s mouth was fucking magic. You moaned into the quiet room when she pressed the flat of her tongue against your pussy, licking a stripe between your lips. You couldn’t control the curses slipping between your teeth when her tongue made teasing circles around your clit until you were whimpering, aching for her. She had released your hips to dig her fingers into your thighs, nails digging in, and you’d surely have crescent-shaped bruises there tomorrow - even more to cover up. You pressed your hips down against her, groaning, her name only a whisper: “Fuck, Els-” 

And then she finally, finally, gave you what you wanted. 

Ellie ate pussy like it was her fucking job, like she was clocking into a shift and working her ass off for those tips. She lapped at your clit like she was starving, pressing her lips against you until you were dizzy, your entire body tuned in to the warmth of her tongue and the gentle graze of her teeth. You shuddered when you felt that tongue press into your core, a brief pressure that pulled curses from your lips, words tripping over each other: “Ah - fuck - fuck, Ellie - oh my God, fuck-” 

It didn’t take long for tension to build in your stomach. You were intoxicated; you were tipsy, yes, but something about the way Ellie moved her tongue - long, slow circles around your clit, using the flat of her tongue to draw you closer to the edge - was like a damn drug. You got what you wanted: She unraveled you with her tongue, tugging curses from your lips. You could hear your own moans echoing against your quiet bedroom and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it. 

Ellie took your clit between her lips and sucked, pulling you into her mouth and-

A long, low moan pulled at your throat when you came. Your hand came up to grip at her hair, fingers twisting in the soft strands. She moaned when you pulled, and the vibration against every nerve pushed you further; you could feel your orgasm in your chest, could feel it trembling in your thighs. 

Ellie worked you through it, her tongue dancing against you as you rode out your high. She didn’t stop, pressing her lips against you, dipping her tongue into your core again, until you were shoving against her head, your hips bucking at the sensitivity. 

When she raised her head, she was grinning, that wicked, infuriating grin she always had when she was pleased with herself. She rested her head against your thigh for a moment, watching you as you blinked the stars from your eyes. You relaxed your fingers in her hair, smoothing your thumb across her temple. 

The only thing you could say, breathless and dizzy, was, “Fuck, Els. What the fuck?” 

Ellie laughed, the sound unarming the silence around you, the anxiety of what this meant. She pressed a kiss to your thigh, right over the little indentations where her nails had dug into the flesh, and just said, “Yeah?” 

You giggled, tugging at her hair gently. You looked down at your roommate - and you didn’t know what this meant for the two of you, but that could be a problem for tomorrow, when you weren’t drunk and sleep-deprived and naked beneath your friend. For now, you only said, “Truth or dare?” 

Ellie blinked, raising an eyebrow, and said, “Truth.” 

You considered not asking for a moment, unsure if you wanted to know, but curiosity pressed at you until you asked, “What do I taste like?”

The grin spread wider, Ellie’s eyes sparkling as she pushed herself up. She crawled up your body, taking a moment to press a kiss to your stomach, to the bruises she had left littered across your chest - you moaned when she took a nipple briefly into her mouth. She kissed her way up your neck, across your jaw, sucking at the skin beneath your ear - another fucking bruise to worry about. God, it was like she wanted her signature on you, branded in every inch of your skin. 

Her face hovered an inch above yours, propping herself up on her elbows, smirking. She leaned in close, leaving room for you to turn away if you wanted. Instead, you tilted your chin up and kissed her again. 

You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste of yourself against her lips. You didn’t like it, the way your own scent wafted over you. But fuck if you didn’t open your mouth when you felt Ellie’s tongue pressing at the seam of your lips. She moaned when your tongue ran along the roof of her mouth, pressing into the taste of you. 

When she pulled back, her eyes were soft, her cheeks flushed. “Like that.” 

You rolled your eyes, turning your face away; you had to admit, even if you hated how you tasted - tasting yourself against her tongue sent a wave of heat between your legs all over again. You only said, “Gross.” 

Ellie leaned in again, and you felt her lips ghosting against your jaw. You felt her breath against your skin when she whispered, “Truth or dare?” 

You lifted your chin to give her access to your neck, sighing when she pressed a kiss against your pulse. “Truth.” 

Her breath huffed against you when she chuckled before raising her head to meet your eyes again, that same cocky smile spread across her lips. “Was that better than a six?” 

“Oh, fuck off.” You shoved against her until she rolled off of you. 

She flopped back against the mattress, still laughing, but she was holding her arm out for you. You only hesitated for a moment - but even if she was your roommate, she just made you see stars, so it’s not like cuddling would push against the boundary you had already broken. You curled into her, laying your head on her chest, the sports bra she was still wearing soft against your cheek.

You sighed, skimming your fingertips against the warm skin of her stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. “Definitely better than a six.” 

You were starting to fall asleep, your eyes growing heavy, your study notes effectively forgotten. You burrowed into her further, wrapping your arm around her and pressing your fingers against her hip. You briefly wondered where the vodka bottle had ended up in the mess, but Ellie didn’t seem in any particular hurry to untangle herself from you, so you figured it could wait - surely it would be okay if she slept in your room for one night.

Just before you dozed off, you heard Ellie murmur, “You left the window open.” 

[outromoony]

If your comfort character isn't dead, traumatized, gay, or a mass murderer... are they really your comfort character?

[a-great-tragedy]

Regulus was that one short kid who would not hesitate to climb the fucking shelves, because he would rather do that then ask for help

James: Reg.. what are you doing up there?

Regulus: *Clinging on for dear life while also trying to grab a book* Nothing.

James: Okay.. *grabs book* You know I was actually looking for this. I think I’ll take it for myself-

Regulus: *Still hanging on* You bastard-

[ultravioletbrit]

“prank” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 234 words

Regulus is sitting in a secluded alcove on the far side of the courtyard when James finds him.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” James asks, gesturing to the spot across from Regulus.

“Why?” Regulus narrows his eyes skeptically.

“Because this is a nice place to read, and I’d like to sit with you.” James smiles.

“Is this a prank?” Regulus glares at James. “You’ll sit here and distracted me then my brother will jump out and do something ridiculous?”

“No.” James shakes his head with a sweet smile. “Not a prank. I just want to sit with you.” He shrugs and Regulus continues to glare. “I’ll be quiet, I promise.” James adds.

“Fine.” Regulus sighs after a moment.

James smiles at Regulus, and it’s bright and beautiful and Regulus feels like he could melt.

Then the most unexpected thing happens. James sits in the alcove across from Regulus, takes out a book and reads quietly and… nothing happens. No pranks, no brothers, just comfortable silence.

They read for a while and Regulus can’t help stealing small glances at James. At one point, Regulus looks up and James is already looking back. James smiles sweetly and Regulus bites his lip to try and hide his own smile. They gaze at each other for several moments before turning back to their books.

They continue to read and… nothing happens. But Regulus also feels like something might be happening.

[chlmtsdoll]

Guys I loved writing the first short n sweet inspo fic so here’s more bc that ovulation album is too good <3

WHERE ART THOU ? WHY NOT UPONETH ME ?

౨ৎ Summary: your hosting a slumber party at Art’s mansion. But you can’t quite stay away from your pull to get the man in a room where there are no others. Inspo from Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter 🤍

+ 18 | very much smut !, unprotected sex, age gap, (reader early 20’s) dilf!Art, size kink, first daddy kink fic (omg) semi-public sex, oral (f) reviving, pet names, this made me feel a bit slutty just writing it, needy!reader, fatherly Art ;)

A/N: the fucking edits on tiktok of Mike to Bed Chem are making me go insane ! just when I thought there was no possible way for me to be crazier over this man omfg. So I had to give the girls a fic to go w it ofc <3

It was like fate. The day you met him.

Nothing could of been more perfect when the stars aligned to bring you to accompany your solid group of trust fund friends to one of his tournaments that evening. You were like most girls your age, makeup, pop music, nice ornaments for your wardrobe — you weren’t the kind of girl that could say she knew much about sports, and certainly little to nothing to be caught landing a seat at the us open... but eventually that grew to be a substantial part of what found him to be so drawn to you.

It was that day when you’d been in the bleachers watching the blonde play like it was his life’s greatest prophecy. For the first time in your still too little years of living, you’d never felt that aroused by a man you’d only saw from the mere view of him hitting a ball with a racket.

But he was unearthly.

Built like how men used to be. Face like it came straight from heaven. Serve like he knew a thing or two in bed.

You were drunk on want, need for him. You were damn lucky your friends were loaded enough to go to all the after parties with most of the star athletes. It was insane to you that you would follow the vip and your most sports driven friends (enthusiast if you will.) to where the elites spend their time. You wanted a nice hang out. Good food. Expensive drinks. But it was between you and the universe that you’d leave with so much more.

You were in a sheer dress and kitten heels when he spotted you. Just his star studded sly smile from across the event hall, when he saw you and your friends conversing in mostly a pretentious manner like most kids your age did when they could afford the lifestyle most people only dreamed of. But not you, you were entranced, pulled away. By his wide, blue eyes that you assumed filled with the same yearn you’d been struck with. And to your quick manifest, Art was gazing right back at you.

Only sharing a couple brief exchanges with the tall and stature, modest but kindly — beautiful and magnetic man around mutual friends, before you’d both been rushed to leave. Him with his team, and you with your entourage.

Like that you were tied to the tennis star in the blink of a moment. And Soon enough — being photographed with him around the heat of the city.

Games, athlete dinner parties, press events. Even photos of you two sharing more than a couple of words, maybe even kisses, behind menus at glamorous rooftop restaurants. Magazine outlets went crazy through the roof in just a few weeks time. Milking whatever they could out of Art Donaldson and his controversially younger girlfriend.

They didn’t have enough tabs on what you two had officially been to one another and that was perfect for the two of you. Because now that time has pushed you and the blonde closer and more into each other — you’d spend days and nights locked away with Art in his new found mansion post his former divorce. Home so beautifully articulated and big enough for you to be extra generous with your time with the dream boat of a man.

It would go down in history what the two of you had done in every room.

Now, a gorgeous weekend ahead of you after your week that was always filled with Art treating you to the finest cooked dinners, at home date nights filled with breezy smiles and full closeness to balance your dates out on the town. Going wherever you felt just to hold hands under umbrellas and traffic lights. With all the new adorned love in your life, and man with too much mystic taking up your time, it had been a good minute since you saw your girlfriends, caught up or shared a drink. You were just so wound up in Art and the way he treated you like a princess to, and in your own world.

So you’d asked Art if you could host a sweet little sleepover for you and your girls at the mansion — and of course he complied. It was anything for his perfect girl since the beginning.

“I could ask the chef to whip up some,” Art spoke into you as he held your hips in his vast hands running carefully over the hem of your satin bottoms as you stood in the middle of the spacious kitchen with him.

“That’s okay, I wanna do it.” You laughed softly, as you stared up at the man. “Nothing says fun girls night like making our own home made friandises”

Art had tilted his head in slight confusion with eyes in question to your tone when you’d practice what you’d been learning in your French courses on him. It was all the most adorable to you really. Your laugh echoed.

“Treats, baby.”

“I- - I knew that,” He scoffed and your giggles were infectious with delight to him.

“It’s gonna be fun. We’ll watch movies, paint our nails, share snacking tips. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the girls.”

Art grinned at the way you lit up with excitement, and his icy eyes looked down at your figure below him. He tried not to bite down on his lip at the way you were in the pajamas usually he only saw you in. Pink lace two piece jammies. Completely recognized because he got them for you. The transparency to them was way too easy on the eyes.

Arts tongue darted out to wet his lips before he questioned, “Is that what you’re wearing ? There aren’t gonna be any boys.. right ?”

“No, silly. That of course counts out you — if.. you wanna join us.” You looked up at him through your lightly mascara coated lashes, it felt as if the flirtatiousness through your gaze just hooked Art by the belt.

“No, no. I’ll give you and your friends your space, doll.” The blonde gave you a chary little smile, “I really doubt they’d want an old man around while you’re trying to have fun.”

“Quit it ! You’re not old. And they adore you.” You stood on the tips of your toes, Art met you so you could leave a sweet kiss on his cheek, with a blush to your own.

“Thank’s for letting me have this little party, baby.”

“Course, what else would be better use for all this space ? Other than for the amusement of twenty something girls.”

Art chuckled and you surely were in agreement, because when your girlfriends did arrive it was immediately shrieks of girlish camaraderie and chatter of awe as you brought them around the place of posh and eloquent nature. Your laugh could of been heard from the other side of the place where Art had eventually been stored away for the night while your hands were knee deep in cookie dough and rainbow sprinkles. Pj sets all from the brands you and your friends never stopped talking about. Having your night filled with reruns of classic movies to sipping champagne.. and the wine, red, (your pick) was certainly slipping through you as the moments went on.

You’d been with your best friend when you two had a moment alone to catch up in one of the halls of the buoyant abode. Whispers and giggles coming from between the two of you as a glass of wine hung from your palm.

“God, he was a such a cutie.” She coo’d as you two had found a very special wall of framed photos of Art from back in his prime tennis days. The blonde around your age who seemed filled with joyfully energetic faces and awards from across the globe. A smile woke upon your face as you folded your arm to admire the man you’d now call your own.

“Sometimes I wish I’d known him then,” you simpered. “But I’m beyond lucky now. Because he’s still cute, and sexier.”

You tittered fondly and your friend laughed with you as she playfully tugged on your shoulder. “You gotta lock that down, y’know… you’ll be like- - hella famous just from being a world class tennis superstars hot young wife.”

She announced as she sipped on something burgundy and you thought with a heightened grin. She couldn’t have been farther from right. And as the months go by you would fall farther and farther head over heels for Art every day. You’d be his wife in an instant. That was the dream after all, and you could certainly say you’d been living one.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait for him to put a ring on it..” You smiled with a dazed shrug as you embarked your wine glass to your lips again.

“He better.” Your friend chirped with a proud glint and you couldn’t help but stay stuck in your thought of your boyfriend who’s been just a few rooms away for the past couple of hours while you’d been enjoying all the perks of your girls making the most of their time with you. But you couldn’t help but want Art to be nearby now, and the red wine in your system maybe hit more than just your head — you couldn’t even try to fight it.

You missed your man.

So after you’d take in a few more drinks and a bit sensually themed games with your friends, you’d made your attempt escape off to find Art. Slipping away from the girls was easy when you’d have every necessity needed to execute a very graceful grown up girl sleepover provided for them.

You’d been walking down the hall heading to where his office and master bedroom would be at the end of the home, and as you passed by the lush kitchen area, to your surprise, there he was. Muscles looked enchantingly delicious in this light as they flexed to pull on the fridge handle and when he turned, his eye line met your glance staring back his way (of course you’d both arrive at the same time.) Arts lips began to curl in an amours grin when he saw your petite figure making it’s way over to him with the same like of smile across your face.

“Hi, baby. You having fun?” He glanced down at you through his blonde lashes to meet your nod, only following up with a soft titter as you stepped closer to the man. He almost immediately picked up on the lust laced within your eye and the way you slightly leaned onto the fridge door with your aura basically gooing with sex at him now. The blonde had an eyebrow furrowed as he chuckled just a bit and he sized you up.

“Are you drunk, princess?”

“No. No… no,” you shook your head.

It had been true. You weren’t drunk. But a little wine tipsy and horny ? Definitely.

Art hummed and put the back of his hand to your forehead gently as he observed your state. “Did you eat?”

“Mhm, did you ?”

“No. That’s why I came down, not to stalk you. I promise.” The man laughed, to which you did as well and you only raised your arms so they could embrace your boyfriend’s shoulders with a soft hum.

“Y’know, if you’re hungry, you can eat me.” Your finger tips grace Arts neck unashamed as you smile into the crook, and he took in a breath, proceeding to hold you close.

“Oh- -” his chuckle matched your giggle as he noticed you’d changed again. His hands were gliding up the ruffle of the even more transparent sheer cover on you’d been dressed in. Lime tinted. The shorts were near pantie like.

“Mmm, I miss you, I want you.” You peppered kisses as close as you could to his earlobe from your height and Arts breath hitched as he was weak to your slow but enticing touch to him. Fogging up his knowledge that you’d been right in the middle of the open kitchen that was just a few ways down from the living area your friends had been in.

“Here, sweetness ? Your friends- -” Art murmurs down to your ear, but you just locked your arms just above his shoulders without a care.

“And- - ? What about them ? I need you,” you whined. “I want your touch.”

“Yeah? You want me to touch you?”

You nodded again with a naughty giggle and the blonde was smirking now, his hands roamed your body. Large and groping your curves. As much as he knew what was rightful, Art just couldn’t deny your cling to him in that damn near lingerie that had him going almost unbearably hard beneath his jeans since you walked in. Feral even. It was beginning to get miserable as you pressed your dainty chest against his, he felt your nipples grow hard and sensitive against the cloth. So into his aroma, presence, like you were a moth to a torch.

He’d fallen into your pecks merging with his now. Kissing you against where the cupboards stand like your lips were candy. Your small legs stumbling as the man towered over you “Fuck, you look amazing in that set.” Art pulled away from your plump lips to view your gorgeously perfect body. You batted your lashes once. And his attain just couldn’t be stopped. Art slid his hands across your soft ass cheeks, massaging and kneading it in his palms before leading up to laying a solid smack which made you hiss out an excited squeal-like giggle. Your fingertips slid down his ample biceps brushed with virile bristles of hair.

“If I had known you’d like this set so much, I would of worn it much sooner for you.”

Art leaned into you and he held a sly smirk, “this was your plan all along, yeah? Wearing that to get my attention so I would come out here and fuck you in the middle of your slumber party.. you’re such a naughty girl.”

You only giggled more into his skin with a slow exhale, your freshly painted french tips exploring him as he explored you. Art took his sweet time just feeling the way your ass jiggled in his palms and you felt like you’d been going weak in the knees before his tender contact turned rough when he turned you around without warning, making you gasp.

Art made sure you could feel how hard you’d gotten him as he pressed himself to your core. Facing the counter, you lost yourself in complete bliss just to the feeling of not knowing where he’d pleasure you next — Arts restrained bulge against your clothed cunt was just something else. The blonde pushed up your sheer top just a bit and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, you made a soft noise with it.

“Feel what you do to me, pretty girl.” Art nibbled on your earlobe and you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to subtle your smile. His hands bracing your hips as he stared down at your lacy panties and your minx-like eyes followed Arts famished expression while he licked his bottom lip.

“All yours, daddy.” Your sweet voice immediately made Art go nearly lightheaded and that was it. He melted.

The man tucked both his thumbs into the fabric and pulled your panties down clean with raucousness, followed up with him getting down on his knees before spreading you with his palms and your hands reached for the marble with a soft whimper.

“That’a girl, stay open for me.. Let me taste you.” Art huffed out before he pushed one of your legs up on the counter and you breathed out at the feeling of him making your body his toy for amusement. Art took his fingers and ran them up your folds, getting them wet with the slick of your pussy. Your cheeks started to heat up just at the wonderful pad of his index running against your core like that , making you let out a soft, “oh..” by the way he moved to rub around your clit. Arts lips kissed on your exposed inner thighs, and your jaw became unlocked extraordinarily far when his tongue finally rolled on the soft tissue.

He was splitting you clean open on the counter as tiny whimpers escaped your throat. You were lost in the draw you had to the man making you feel surpassing of even the way you played it all out in your head. “Mmm, yeah- - yes” you panted and the man flicked his digit over your bud at the same time he’d been making out with your cunt. Letting deep groans flow throughout your opening. You’d been on the tip of your toes for him. Letting him suck where you pulsed till you’d been overstimulated if he wanted.

Your head had been spinning from the friction of his perfectly sculpted nose rubbing against your sensitive area. Art was known to be gifted with his mouth so much so, you almost wondered if your friends would have heard if you just couldn’t keep your moans level — but with the way Art held your hips, fucked his tongue into your cunt like you’d been his last meal, your anxiousness washed away. All you could do was let the shake of your thighs and Arts dripping oral member lead you to a crisp pleasurable cry.

“Shit,” Art took a brief exhale as he pulled away from your entrance, dampened lips of your juices going wide with a grin and he ran his palms over your slick thighs again,

“you’re so fucking wet for me, princess. You gonna take my dick? Let me make you feel good?”

“Mmm, please. Fill me up, Art. I wanna feel you.”

“You gotta be quite for me, baby.” Art stood to his feet.

You didn’t care. All you could think about was dick. Arts phenomenal dick. You wanted him to toss you over and split you open till you were sobbing on his thick member, your wine drunk friends would understand. A girl has her needs.

The risk made your blood pressure rise as the moment went on, when Art reached over you to tug your panties dangling from your thighs all the way down — he kicked them off to the side. Taking note of his own belt buckle and undoing it quickly, which you only grew more greedy by the sound of him unzipping his fly. The blondes aquamarine orbs swam with the need to pump you fuller than you’d ever taken him.

“Bend over for me, sweet girl..” Art breathed out softly as his slightly calloused hands ran from your hip up your spine while you did so, bending over fully and displaying your sweet dripping cunt for the mans lidded eyes. He sucked in his breath and his now aroused dick twitched when it unveiled from his boxers — going barmy with just how tiny and soft you looked beyond him.

“So fucking tight and small- - your amazing with the way you take me when I barely fit in, sweets.”

You bit down on your finger as you watched Art run his hands over your ass. Take your hips and line his cock up with your hole. He hissed at the way your soaking cunt wet his tip, you almost croaked out a deep moan at his gestures to tease your pussy. Just nodding along as you’d gone cock drunk before he’d even been in you. Your nails run at the marble counter as Art slowly burrowed into your drooling core. Working you open as his cock disappeared into your body inch by inch — he pushed your thigh higher onto the ledge as you whined at the stretch.

“Ah.. mmm- - fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groaned as you adjusted to the size of his warmth finally filling you full. Art was big. And he’d never want to put you, his sweet doll in discomfort for long, never. So when he started to plunge into you, he watched as your face scrunched up from ache to pleasure in time. His name sputtering from your mouth as you clawed at the counter top and he watched your pussy lips that were just throbbing around his erection like it was begging to be so sporadically fucked by him.

“That’s it baby doll,” his own groans heightened as his hips knock into your cervix, chasing that spot of yours till you were moaning and whimpering like a slut around him. Hole so full with yours and his pre-cum and you sucked in your bottom lip, tussled hair going wild on your back. You just had to look over your shoulder to watch him — see Arts gorgeous face as he snapped against you all shimmering with light sweat as he focused on the way a ring of your wetness pooled around his base.

“You love this, hu? Getting me to fuck you while your friends carry on without you- - At your party. But you just had to come.. looking for daddy’s cock, yeah? You love being a dirty, dirty girl for me.” Art rasped as he clenched his jaw with the overwhelming feeling of your tight cunt clenching him. It made your skin feel like it had been sparked with fire, so exhilarated. He put his hands in your hair to fuck into you as your jaw dangled open.

“Oh! F-fuck! I needed that big fucking dick, daddy… w-want you to cum all over me, mmm- -” you were choking out whimpers and your pretty little hole dripped with Arts pre-seed slipping from you, making it drag out when he pulled out of your pussy to turn you around and pick you up in one swift motion. Your high pitched gasp echoed as you wrapped your legs around the mans abdomen and Art set you on the counter. His lips curl up into a smirk and his eyes met your wide doe set ones. Slipping back into you he watched you cry out his name. Rutting into your heavenly body at this angle, hands go squeezing your thighs, and Art kept them apart as he took you at a wild pace. Hitting that gooey spot till you didn’t remember your own name. “Good fucking girl. That’s it- - such a sweet thing for me, taking all of my cock. It was made for you, doll.”

You couldn’t even catch your self as you’d leaned back on the counter and let Art pound into you. Your tits bounced with each thrust and you were shuttering as your orgasm ripped through you without warning. “Yes ! Ooh- - shit, yes yes yes…” you were whining out as you came on Arts dick. He held your legs spread as he grunted and watched you soak him uncontrollably. You loved it. Feeling like his perfect little gift. Art licked over his lips at the sight of your beauty, throwing your head back in bliss, he pulled out of you and pushed up your dainty little baby doll top — making space as he pumped his throbbing dick over your stomach till he himself came hard. Ropes shooting out on your candescent skin and making sure some got on your pussy just for the fun of it, he grinned and trailed his thumb up your gentle inner calf that had been dangling by his side.

You were whimpering like you’d gotten your brains fucked out to the sweetest soundtrack you’d ever heard. Art was so cinematic in moments like these, he leaned up to kiss at the nape of your neck, cheek, and lips.

“Pretty, perfect girl.. I love you.” Your gentleman muttered against your mouth. You smiled and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as Art brought your panties up to help you slip them back over your thighs and to your feet as steady as you could. Dressing himself as well, he glanced down at you through his hooded eyes to see your impressively only slightly disheveled state. You were just always glowing, it was hard to make that go away anyways.

“You sleeping down here tonight?” Art buckled his pants again as he questioned you with a soft raised brow. You started to smirk at the way he was heading. You shrug.

“Maybe, maybe not… I’ll sneak into your room when they’re sleep, if you want.” You offered the man, the glint in your eye saying you’d suck his cock and let him have you in as many different positions as he’d like in a couple hours till you were all tapped out. The blonde only scuffed and towered over your presence that was still taken by your hoyden attitude, just to turn you back towards the doorway.

“Go host your party.” he taunted almost fatherly, to then leave a light slap on your ass that made you giggle on the way out.

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Steve babysitting the kids but then they start playing DND and he goes up to his room for a bit when he gets bored of the game. He just wants some alone time before the next few hours alone with the kids.

At some point he hears the kids using the phone. He doesn't give it a second thought, thinking that Dustin is buying a pizza for everyone.

When he hears a car and then a tap on his bedroom window, Steve sits upright on his bed. Someone is climbing through his now opened window.

Steve rolled off his bed and grabbed the spiked bat from under it. He jumped at the figure and swung at them.

He ended up tripping over his shoes that he left on the middle of the floor and missing the figure completely. Steve fell to his face and rolled over as the figure stood over him.

"Stevie?"

"Eds?" Steve asked, groaning. "What are you doing up here? I could have taken off your whole face with this bat." He taps the bat beside him and Eddie laughs.

The older man squats down next to Steve and offered and hand. Steve takes it gratefully. "The kids invited me. They said you left them to go jerk off or something. Was totally hoping I could join," he joked. "Nah, but I just wanted to say hi. Alone."

"Alone?" Steve asked. He stood next to Eddie, hyper aware of how close they were standing.

To make matters worse, Eddie leaned in and whispered, "Yeah, can't have the kids seeing this," and he hugged Steve really quickly.

Steve's eyes widened but he felt at peace. He felt safe and warm and- and it was gone. Eddie backed away and straightened his back. "I should go back through the-"

"What was that for?" Steve asked. He wanted more.

Eddie shrugged. "It looked like you could use one. Plus I wanted to." He ruffled Steve's hair. "Now be a big boy and go downstairs and I'll meet you there."

Before Steve could even process what he said, Eddie climbed out the window.

Steve hurried down the stairs just to be met by the kids opening the door for Eddie, who winked at him over their heads.

[cute-sucker]

sometimes you get bratty, but you can't help it but wiggle into rafe's lap. he's comforting in the way where he'll soothe the worries by gently helping you go the right way—but today he's grumpy too.

you can see it the way his muscles tense up as he works in his notebook. theres a crease in his forehead that wasn't there before, and while there may be things you would have caught before, today of all days, you're extra bratty.

it begins innocently with you kissing his shoulder, and then skimming past to his face. you're soft when touching him, but you know he can feel your glittery pink lipgloss sticking to his skin. any other day he wouldn't mind but he seemed to get all annoyed about it.

"shit, c'mon you can't be doing that. 'm busy right now. can't you see that?" he mutters, reaching to sit you down. you pout, folding your arms as you try not to take it to heart. yet you can't help but blubber a bit as your eyes get watery.

you're sniffling, and then heading over to get a napkin. more than ever you wanted rafe's hands on you, gently coaxing you to feel better. but somehow all you can do is hobble over closer to him, peeking over his shoulder.

it gets him even more annoyed, and rafe groans, pulling you into his lap. you can't help but squeal happy that he's paying you some attention. for one, happy that you're in his lap now, but it's clear with his steely blue eyes he does not mean well.

instead, he's scowling at you, patting you down and then touching the small part of your back before sandwiching you between his legs. you bite your lips to stop from smiling, and it's clear that you've won this battle by the way he's looking at you. but you can't help but open your mouth to say something before he skims his finger near your lips.

"behave."

[ghettogirly]

Hi lovely can you one for Armando x reader. Armando , Mike, Marcus, doesn't know what the reader does for a living. She find out thing before they do , skilled in everything. ( Whatever you want her to be). The reader takes the spot of reggie. Armando call her instead of Marcus. They get scared for her but just wait until they find out.

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄:

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑!

𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏.

-> synopsis: Where armando calls you to warn you that you have trouble coming you way and to go hide somewhere safe. Little do they know, you can do more than hide.

-> warnings: spoilers for bad boys ride or die, mentions of violence.

[🕷️] author’s note: thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!

Your first encounter of Armando was when he was released to be the new member of AMMO to repay his debt to the state for his crimes. He walked in with his father, Mike, in an alluring manner. You was a helper for the team, however currently unemployed. Failing to find your place in society.

The mexican-born male wore a black co-ord , tight to his chest and flattering in all the right places. His hair slicked in gel, the sides of his head faded with a scar at the side of it.

You both grew quickly closer, spending each day with each other even with the stares of judgement people descended onto you.

“He has killed countless people.”

“He’s a criminal, they should lock him up and throw away the key.”

“Armando Aretas. The animal who should be put down.”

It did hurt you for a while, leading you to deny your feelings for him. Until one day, after a passionate night with him, you tried to briskly leave in the middle of the night.

“Where are you going?” The males voice croaked out, his voice deeper than usual due to the vocal cords enlargement throughout the night.

“I need to go home, i’ve spent too long being here.”

A scoff is heard.

“Yeah. No surprise there. Running out of excuses are you?”

“ Its not an excuse i just have something to do at..”

“Guárdalo, solo vete. Te han lavado el cerebro las opiniones de otros y no quiero escucharlo más. Ahórrame los detalles.” Venom dropped off the latino’s tongue as he dismissed you away. Sadness overcame you as no words came out of your mouth.

Days went by, Armando never spoke to you. Tension flushed by you guys whenever you was by each-other in a room. One day, you couldn’t handle it no more and you grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn and look at you.

“I’m sorry. You’re more than just an animal or a criminal. I know i don’t even deserve for you to forgive me but i need to get this off my chest. I am so sorry Armando.”

You feel his arms engulf you in a hug as tears roll down your cheeks, embarrassed at how easily influenced you were from everyone’s opinions. “no llores mi amor, I forgive you.”

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏.

“Hey guys, we’ve got trouble.”

Armando’s shoes pounded down the wooden steps as he swiftly walked to Dorn’s computer, his nerves rising as he sees the blonde’s frantic typing on the keyboard below. “What’s wrong?”

The cameras on the computer pointing to every angle in your house, yet, 3 armed men slowly creep up to the front door. Ready to raid, they point their rifles towards the door. “Tenemos que tomarlos ahora!” One masked man, whisper shouts in spanish, their emotions covered but their body language is prevalent. He is tense.

Dorn shifted his position to turn to Armando, his brows furrowing, “Are these your people?”

He shook his head, “No.”

Time stood still before he realised the severity of the situation, rushing over to the phone he picks it up and rapidly taps your contact. “Mierda! Pick up the phone..”

A few seconds of beeps echoed around the room, the only thing filling the air of silence. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“We have no time. Take Uncle Marcus’s wife and go hide. Now.” His words dropped with warning as he kept it short and sweet.

Your eyes widen as you hear his stoic words. Quickly whipping your head to the side, you gather your godmother and hide in the closet. A loud bang blasts through the room as footsteps clatter along the floor, moving in a tactical fashion as they scan the house for people. Armando quickly runs to the cameras, looking at the masked men quickly run through the house, weapons pointed at every angle. “Fuck..”

A moment passes and you slowly slip past the closet door, gripping your fingertips on the cold, wooden pane, you slide by the counter and quickly exhale. “Lord, please protect me.”

The woman slowly slides her hand up the counter top, reaching for a knife before calculatedly turning left while peeking around. A second passes before you see an outline of a shadow descending down onto you. Slowly looking up, you see a gun pointed towards you. “Shit.”

With a quick whisk, you slice the knife through his leg, the man drops down and shouts in pain as you slit the masked man’s throat. Taking his gun, you push forward back into the living room where the rest of the men were. Angling yourself, you shoot the man in the corner before whipping the man in front of you with the rifle.

“Damn, that bitch can fight.”

Randomly another man whisks you around, taking you in a loose headlock. The sound of a gun goes off and the man falls back in anguish, brushing yourself off you turn around and shoot him in the head.

A quick moment goes by and by the end of it, all men are dead. The carpets and floorboards stained with a crimson red as you pant for air. You quickly run back to the closet, “it’s safe now. let’s go.” You say to Marcus’s wife, embracing her in a hug before you both hurry off.

Not before, you look up at the camera and smile. Blowing your pointer and middle fingers to represent a gun, before winking.

“You’re welcome.”

The male turns to the rest of the crew and grins, followed by a slow whistle.

“Seems like we know what she does after all.”

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“Guárdalo, solo vete. Te han lavado el cerebro las opiniones de otros y no quiero escucharlo más. Ahórrame los detalles.” - Keep it, just leave. You've been brainwashed by the opinions of others and I don't want to hear it anymore. Spare me the details.

“no llores mi amor” - Don’t cry my love.

“Tenemos que tomarlos ahora”: We have to take them now.

“Mierda!” - Fuck!

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Short Stories:

Let Me In

Yandere Francis Mosses (Doppelgänger) x GN Reader

Swish. Swish.

You leaned back as your foot steadily rocked the cushioned seat of your desk chair from side to side. It was yet another boring day of being the doorman for this apartment complex. Yet you couldn’t help the shudder run down your spine from time to time since you constantly felt under surveillance. Then again, perhaps you were going slightly insane from working such long hours in such a narrow space? There was no way someone would stalk you of all people… right?

You let out a low chuckle at your thoughts. You recently felt as if your days melt together. It was the same routine every single day. Stop the doppelgängers from entering the apartment complex. Check their IDs and entry requests. Call their room. You were tired of this consistent repetitive pattern! You wanted some excitement for once-

“Hello.” You jumped to attention when a handsome man stood before you. Your eyes nearly shot out of your head at the blood that stained his face. Was it macabre of you to find that attractive. “I just got off work and I’d like to call it a day in my apartment.”

“Y-you have a little.” Your breath hitched when he wiped the blood off with his thumb and gave you the faintest of smiles.

“Ah. I hadn’t realized I made a mess earlier. Thank you.” The man then handed you his ID and entry request. Francis Mosses was it? He was indeed a looker and his ID checked out… but he wasn’t on today’s list.

“I’m sorry, Francis. You’re not on the list today-“ you scream when he slammed his hands on the window. His half-lidded eyes now wide open and bloodshot. This man no longer looked like an angel, but rather a demon. A demon that would no doubt rip you apart and swallow you whole.

“I’m not on the list? I’m sure you could let me in.” You quickly push the emergency button but his large hands grab the metal doors before you can shut them completely. You gulp when you spot the veins bulging from his gray hands. “Haven’t you been bored lately? You always look so lonely at your desk… I’m sure I could show you a good time.”

Well, Francis wasn’t wrong- no! You can’t endanger the residents! You dialed the D.D.D’s number with haste which made the doppelgänger sigh.

“Fine! Have it your way.” Francis casted you one last look. “But I will be back. And you will let me in. Remember, I’m always watching.”

You deflated like a ballon and sunk back into your chair. Your body felt as if your bones had completely melted from how scared you were… you’ve never encountered such an aggressive doppelgänger before…

“You have contacted the D.D.D. A group of agents has been sent to your building.” The garbled voice on the other end of the line brought you back down to reality.

You sighed and leaned forward to put your face in your palms. What on earth did Francis mean that he would always be watching?