#it is almost midnight my brain is shutting down

[telekitnetic-art]

random spiderverse thought dump (spoilers for ATSV obviously)

Thinking ab how Miguel and Miles interact makes me wonder if, had things turned out differently, what a powerhouse and mentor Miguel could be. From the look of it, Miguel was a good dad and could make an even greater teacher. Tied with Peter B, the two of them would be a complete powerhouse duo of teachers to a lot of the spider-kids. And seeing how much Miguel has changed from who he was and who he is now- a jaded, hurt man who seems to distrust almost everyone and is stubborn enough in his attitude and traumatized enough by his past to try and outright injure (because let’s be real even with Miles’ super strength and endurance, Miguel was not really pulling punches throughout the entire chase sequence) a 15 year old because said kid might try and save his father.

Miguel as a whole is a very complex antagonist; his motives and pain is understandable because he saw his daughter die before him. His family’s entire universe crumbled before him from actions that were probably his own. And it makes sense that he wouldn’t want anyone to go through it again.

But we also see that the trauma has made him stubborn and tunnel visioned. He calls Miles a “mistake” and an anomaly when I’m pretty sure by his own standards he is/was an anomaly too.

I’m losing my train of thought here but something something the old generation closing their minds to the idea of change because of their trauma, and instead of opening themselves up to help the newer generations, they inadvertently hurt them instead. In that vein too, the potential Miguel had to be a good figure and support in Miles’ life is probably tragically gone. Maybe there’s a chance they could sort things out with each other, but I wouldn’t imagine Miles would be too interested in bonding deeply with Miguel after the man tried to claw his way to Get him.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Yan highschool Gojo reacting to reader who doesn’t want to sleep her room so she abruptly crashes in his. She’s just like “Shokos room smells like smoke and Geto…. Your room was closer.”

I imagine him just being a weirdo and watching us sleep lol.

You looked guilty as you trudged down the hallways towards Satoru's dorm room. Maybe it'd be best to just leave him alone, but you kind of don't want to sleep alone. And for some reason, it just seemed best to go to him for support. You already knew you'd come up with a shit lie. Your pajama pants brushed against the floor over your ankles and you held your favorite pillow under your left arm as you approached his door.

You sigh and raise your hand to knock and the door flies open, making you flinch.

HIs stupid grin made you regret even leaving your room in the first place. Despite it being almost midnight, he seemed wide awake. "Yes?" You fiddle with your pillow and look to the ground. "Um.....there's a mouse in my room." He looks down at the pillow in your hand and you purse your lips. ".........."

"I'm too scared to sleep in my room. And I didn't wanna wake Sho or Suguru." "So, you woke me up instead?" "You weren't asleep."

He sighs and steps to the side like you caught him in a lie...even though he never set one up in the first place. "Alriiiight....I guess I'll let you sleep with me so I can protect you from the big bad mice that aren't even close to your size." "Shut up."

You scoot his one flat pillow to the edge of the bed and place yours to where the side of the bed touches the wall and take your place curling up there under his sheets. As much as he annoys you, you still enjoy these moments where you can selfishly allow yourself to bask in his presence. From what you can see, he's a nice and funny friend- and his bed is reallllly comfortable right now.

You hear him get under the blankets as well and the extra warmth is very much welcomed by you. His breath softly hits the back of your neck in a seemingly comforting way and you close your eyes to fall asleep. It's easier than it was before.

Satoru watches you relax the deeper you're lulled into a sleep, and his heart rate increases with every breath you take. You are so gorgeous. Even with your back facing him, you look amazing. Your soft soap scent covers his brain in nostalgia even though this is happening in the present moment. He wants to touch you. He wants to put his hand on your waist and feel your warm skin through the soft texture of your patterned tank top.

His feet brush against yours under the blanket and your wiggle yours in return, making him smile. He knows this wont last forever. But he'd do anything to have you by his side like this for the rest of his shitty human life. Everything around him is meant to tear him down slowly, piece by piece. But here you are building him back up without even trying. You're his missing piece.

And he hopes you understand that as he turns his back to yours, letting them touch to sync breaths for just this one night.

[dxxdhood]

Okayyyyyy your sub!Wade Wilson fic literally destroyed me and I need like a million more consider yourself my new dealer

(If reqs are open can I get uhhhhh Wade Wilson where he's needy but has no idea what he wants so reader has to shut his brain off and figure it out for him pls and thanks)

hi anon, i love this idea so much omg! i may have played around with it a bit but i think i still kept the same core idea. i went with fem! reader on this, but if you want a similar request with gn! or male! reader, let me know! pls enjoy!!!

rough night

pairing: wade wilson x fem!reader

summary: wade needs your love and attention, and luckily, you're always there to help him out.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, dirty talk, praise kink, light bondage, grinding, clothed sex, oral (f receiving), exhibitionism, car sex

wc: 2.0k

“Okay, babe, hear me out: the ending to the stage version of Little Shop is leagues better than whatever deus ex machina crap they had to throw into the last two minutes of the movie. Cowardly movie-goer audiences can not handle true stage-level tragedy–”

“Wade!” You shout, nearly swerving the car as you double check the directions. Past midnight on the freeway after a long day, you barely had the concentration to drive in silence– much less in a car with your partner in it. “Can you help me get us home first before we start arguing over musical movies again. Please?”

Wade hums, tapping his scarred hand against the console, “That’s a big ask, I’m not so sure I can, to tell you the truth. You wanna talk about musical movies? Can we talk about how big The Greatest Showman got when the score is nothing but pop songs? Look, I get the lead actor looks like my crazy-hot new best friend, but the 2010s had way better stuff coming out.”

Turning his head so you could see the shit-eating grin plastered on his face, he whistles a note before speaking. “You missed our exit, by the way.”

“What?” You double check the GPS to make sure he’s not lying. Sure enough, he’s right. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“Oh, you know. Typical Deadpool, just pissing off everyone around him all the time for no reason,” he chimes in again, and something about his tone sets you off. You speed across the next available ramp, and after the few seconds it takes for you to end up on a deserted road, you stop the car.

Taking a deep inhale, you make sure to hit the inside light so he can see you properly, and you grab the arm still fidgeting next to you. “Wade, what’s up with you?”

His eyes go large, and his expression loses all the mischief immediately. Shaking his head a little, he purses his lips. “Nothing. Nothing’s up.”

“Let’s just get home,” he says after an empty moment, almost like he’s booting up again. “You can yell at me the entire way back, okay? I was being a pain in the ass. I’ll take it lying down, promise.”

Seeing him in the dim, yellow lighting, he’s trying to retreat into his hoodie. He’s pulling away from you even as he speaks, and it makes your stomach turn.

“Let’s–” you start, unbuckling your seatbelt before gripping the door handle.  “Let’s just take a second first.”

You catch a wash of confusion on his face, but you exit the car and walk over to his side before he voices his thoughts out loud. Opening his door, you quickly envelope him in a hug before he can try to pull away again.

You swear you heard a whimper, but it was so quiet, you nearly missed it. Almost instantly, Wade buries his head in your neck, and his arms wrap around your middle tight. 

The two of you stay there, alone, with the gentle sound of crickets chirping in the background for what feels like a small eternity. You know it must have only been a few minutes, because shortly, your thighs burn from the angle you’re bending at, so you gently pull away. You decide not to mention the wetness left on your shirt.

“What do you need?” You ask.

He shakes his head again, but faster this time. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t even know why I was trying to piss you off.”

“Today was fine, right? I thought so, but all of sudden everything felt like it was going to shit. In my head, I just started going around in circles, going over all the little ways I kept fucking up, and – I don’t know – it got to me.” Wade brings a palm to his forehead. “It’s just one of those hate-yourself days, I guess.” 

You nod, taking one of his hands in yours as you stand on the dying grass surrounding the road. Rubbing his palm with your thumb, trying to transfer some of your warmth to him, you’re suddenly met with an idea so good, you can keep inside the chuckle. 

“Sorry, sorry!” You choke. “Not laughing at you, I just– I just think it’s funny where my brain goes.”

“What do you mean?” He looks up at you with pupils so big, you just want to go back to squeezing him. 

“Well, we’re all alone out here.”

You can almost see the loading screen in Wade’s mind when he breaks out in a laugh. “No way, I finally found someone worse than me.”

“Would you want to?”

He’s nodding before he can even process, but after a second a frown sets in. “You know I’m always down to clown around, but I’d just be a burden right now. I’m all sad and icky and touchy-feely. I don’t even know what I–”

“You want me to handle it?” you interrupt. “I’ll just do stuff we’ve liked doing in the past. You don’t have to worry about a thing, I’ll make it all good for you.”

Wade turns his head away, and for a terrifying moment, you believe you’ve made him uncomfortable. But a part of him wins whatever fight is going on eternally, and when he faces you again, a blush coats his cheeks.“You’d do that?”

“You think I’m offering ‘cause I like hearing myself talk?”

“You have the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard,” he smiles, and not having learned anything, you bend down again to kiss him. He responds fast, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek as he pulls you in closer. No matter how much of you he gets, he always finds himself needing more.

You push his hood down and you carefully run your hands across his scalp, cradling his head, as you deepen the kiss. Licking inside his mouth, you feel more than hear a rumble build in his chest.

Breaking away, you pull your sweater off before laying it on the ground in front of the passenger seat. Stepping to the side, you give Wade a second to process before you order him.

“Kneel.”

He definitely mumbles a soft “holy shit” as he slips out of the car and drops to his knees. Briefly, you run your hands across his shoulders, kneading at the intersection between his shoulders and neck, feeling the tense muscle there. Typical Wade to cause problems instead of talking about his own. Just how long was he carrying around all of this tension? Maybe when you’re both home later, at what will probably be the crack of dawn, you can run him a warm bath or give him a better massage.

For right now, you slip past him and sit in the car seat above him. Angled so your legs dangle out the car door opening, you place a hand around the back of Wade’s neck and urge him closer.

“You ready?” You whisper. “You want to eat me out, Wade?”

He buries his head into your thigh at your words as he lets out a groan, “Yes, please, oh my god.”

Grabbing both of your legs, he lifts them onto his shoulder and he already starts to move his head closer in between them.

“Hold on,” you grab one of his hands, interlocking your fingers. “Here, help me move one of my legs off your shoulder and against your dick.”

To his credit, he does, even as he shivers at your words. As he scooches around, trying to get comfortable or maybe just hungry for more sensation already, you feel his cock half hard.

“You’ve been wanting this, huh? Wanting me to boss you around a little,” you whisper, inching your head closer to his so you can whisper in his ear. “Wanting to hear dirty things in my voice?”

“Yes!’ he shouts. “Yes, please! Can I eat you out, babe? I’ll be good!”

“”Course you will be,” you smile. “You’re always so good for me.”

With a little maneuvering around your legs, you manage to slip your shorts and underwear off, accidentally tossing them into the darkness.

Wade frowns, his brow creasing, “No, I haven’t been very good lately–”

On command, you grab his chin and tilt it so his gaze rests on yours. There’s no hiding from your words now. “Don’t say that. Stop talking.”

“You don’t feel good?” you smirk. “Then prove to me right now how good you can really be.”

He needs no further encouragement as he buries his face between your thighs, already licking across you, teasing you even now. His pace is quick, desperate, but he’s still careful to avoid where you need him most.

With one hand perched at the top of his head, you scratch the other down his neck as a warning, but all it does is draw a moan from him. You can feel the vibrations through you, and it causes you to grind across his mouth.

Panting heavily, you decide to even the score. You press your calf up against his hard cock, inching it backwards and forwards, bit by bit, and that’s all it takes for Wade to remember his own needs. Wanting  you already, he slowly grinds against your leg, and though it feels harsh through his pants, from past experience as well as the wet groans filling the air, you’re sure Wade enjoys it.

Suddenly, he decides to circle your clit in earnest, and it draws a loud moan from you. You begin to grind yourself against his tongue, still somehow working you with coordinated movements despite how out-of-control he humps your leg.

His whimpers slip out of him, as if he’s been completely fucked dumb just by getting off on your leg. The power is heady, and you move your hands to his, wrapping them around his wrists and bringing them in front of him to settle right in front of his stomach. Once you’re sure you’ve got a secure grasp, you bring one of your hands away to tilt his face up to yours so you can kiss him again.

You taste yourself warm on his lips, and the thought causes even more heat to pool at your core. All too soon, you pull away from him and shove his head back between your thighs. 

“Fuck, Wade, so good. You’re so good for me.”

He’s whimpering right into your core and involuntarily, the hand restraining his wrists clenches. The harshness only turns him on further, and he continues rubbing himself along your leg so quick, you’re sure it must be starting to sting.

“Yeah? You like fucking my leg, Wade? I love seeing you grind on me, sweetheart, you’re so pretty.”

His pace increases, and he starts letting out frequent moans in between the warm breaths he exhales onto you. Your thighs are shaking – his speed for you has never faltered – and you shove his face towards you with the palm against his head.

“I’m gonna come. You wanna be my good boy and come with me, huh?”

At that, he releases a loud groan into your pussy, and you feel yourself coming, dripping onto his already soaked face. At your wetness, his grinding only increases, and after only a few more seconds, Wade finishes, cum seeping from his pants onto your leg. 

The two of you stay silent with only your breaths slowly returning to normal to fill the air. Wade’s eyes are large, gazing at you like you’re all he could ever want, and it’s almost too overwhelming for you to return.

Shakily, he pushes off the ground and makes it to his feet before he stumbles to the side. On instinct, you jump from the seat outside to catch him, your arms wrapped around his waist. You’re still afraid that he’ll fall, but Wade lets out a light giggle.

“If you couldn’t drive us home before, I’ve got no clue how we’re making it back now.”

You lightly slap his arm, “You could be nicer to me after I made you come, bitch.”

He lets out a groan that would sound exaggerated if it came from anyone else, “Shit, call me that next time!”

“Next time I wreck you in the middle of nowhere?” you smirk.

“Just name a time and place.”

[coeurify]

repost the period vampire ellie fic!

middle of the night,, vamp!ellie

a/n: this is a repost from early this year so excuse any change in writing style!

warnings: vampire!ellie. period sex. oral!r receiving fingering!r receiving. sort of a dreamy, less modern vibe. if u aren’t into it.. just don’t read it.

˚✦　.　　. 　  ˚　.　 . ✦　˚　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

Some times--Most times, you only saw her at night. When darkness enveloped the small town you called home, when the stars rocked the sleepy eyed humans to sleep and the moon hummed the lullaby that quieted the crickets outside, she came.

Only then did you ever hear the distinct creaking of the splitting wood on your window panes being pressed up. Only then did the white of your sheer curtains move with more than the wind, the grip of the air nothing compared to the long hand that often wrapped around the fabric and pushed it open. When the moon was the only light filtering into your room, you saw the green of her eyes.

Tonight was no different, despite one little issue. Often, the woman who visited you under the cover of midnight would arrive to your eyes closed in sleep. She would press a hand to your warm cheek before waking you, greeted by your sleepy excitement each time.

This time, you had not been able to sleep. A heat had taken over your body, tight in your stomach with a pain you would compare to that of claws gnawing at your insides. Sweat beaded between your brows with every swift turn under your uncomfortable sheets, lip tugged between your frustrated teeth to stop any whines of discomfort. That had been what your favorite visitor heard as her shaking palms found the wood of your window. Your pained grunts floated through her buzzing ears as she quietly made her way into your room, auburn hair messy behind her ears as her figure became visible, head tilted as she looked across the room to your heated body.

“El,” you whined, wiping your forehead with a hand, not at all concerned about her chosen point of entry. “Go away.”

Ellie’s gaze softened, a scoff sounding from behind your squeezed shut eyes. “Go away?” she mused, her voice much closer now.

The split second your eyes had been closed, Ellie had somehow silently made it to your bedside. You don't question it, you never do.

When a girl like Ellie sports small fangs and a taste for blood, her speed is the last thing you think to question.

“I don't feel well, don’t want you here.” you add, mouth pulled into pout as you look up at the freckled face of Ellie.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, bunny? Instead of shooing me away,” Ellie requests, sitting on the edge of your bed. Her cold hand finds your sweaty arm, sighing. “You’re burning up.”

Your neck tickles with heat as Ellie questions your current state, and you fall wordless. Somehow, it was more embarrassing to admit to your vampire visitor that you were starting your period than to simply tell her to leave. Obviously however, Ellie was not taking the second option as a valid answer.

“I started my period, nothing is helpin’ the cramps,” you explain softly, pressing your hand into the sheets of your bed to try and sit, to maybe find some sort of relief to the growing tension in your stomach. But the other set of hands is faster.

“Lay down,” Ellie insists, glancing down at you. You can almost see the cogs of her brain turning behind the evergreen in her eyes, a sort of fogginess settling over the color.

“Let me help you,” she eventually says.

“What? I told you nothi-”

Ellie presses her lips together to hush you, one wandering hand finding the dip of your hip, blunt nail tracing the goosebump coated flesh there. Sometimes she liked being so cold, simply because she enjoyed seeing how you reacted to it. If she was damned for what she was, she may as well use some of it to her advantage.

“What are you doing?” You couldn't help the shiver that followed her movements.

Suddenly your mouth feels dry, tongue unable to wet the plump fat of your lip. The scratching in your throat finds no comfort when you swallow, only further irritating your vocal chords. A choked noise finds the heavy bedroom air as fingers tug at your cotton shorts.

“Helping you,” Ellie repeats, her own mouth much more wet than yours. Even in the dim light of the moon you can see the glistening dew on her parted lips. Usually the look she currently wears is saved only for when her pearly teeth find the sensitive and already scarred skin of your neck. Not for.. this.

Your hands immediately slap to your heated cheeks. “Oh my god Ellie, no fucking way.”

The vampire, who had now moved below you on the bed, hums in disagreement to your little show of kicking feet, a hand too strong to be that of a human halting all movements.

“We always have fun when I come over,” The freckles of her face disappear as she glances down, fully pulling down your shorts.

“Not when I’m on my period,” you hiss quietly, the words feeling cracked and embarrassed as they leave your mouth. You could deny the growing arousal in your belly simply by how *mortified* you felt. Even with the churning feeling of deeply settled embarrassment, you make no further moves to stop Ellie. Not as the shorts fall to the floor with a dull thump.

“It’ll help,” Ellie soothes, the near frigid temperature of her hand calming the heat that rises on the skin of your legs. “Haven’t you heard things like this help with cramps?”

The words that are spoken almost teasingly fall upon deaf ears as her wet lips press right above your knee. “Please,” the auburn haired girl whispers, sounding a lot more breathy than before. “Please, let me taste you. Let me make you feel better. ”

Ellie had a tendency to become a little less cold, figuratively at least, when she found her body nestled between your own. The unwavering voice you had grown oh so accustomed to always slid into a more mushy sounding version whenever it got intimate. Today, it seemed even worse. The words dripped with the sweet sounds of neediness, a sound that tasted sweet on your tongue, which swiped nervously over your dry lips.

“El..” Another kiss pressed further up the flesh of your warm thigh broke any following denial. “Fuck..” your chin wobbles, almost too embarrassed to actually say your following words, “Yea. Please help.”

You were sure if you believed something was watching down on you from the sky, it was with horror. Some people may call what Ellie was doing sinful. The angels in the clouds would shrilly gasp as fingers wrapped around your panties and tugged them and everything else from your bottom half, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes. Her shirt came next, the simple white cloth acted as something to watch as it pulled off of her chest, likely to avoid any mess. Some may call the sight of her dipping down again, green eyes looking up at your quivering lip, sinful. Maybe it was, surely the mewl you made when her lips found the heated flesh of your inner thigh was. But if you had to describe it, that wasn't the word you would use. You may even swear it was heavenly.

“Relax,” Ellie drawled, spreading your thighs further apart, despite the slight tremble to them. “I’ve got you, don't worry,” her voice soothed you enough to tilt your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes closed. The embarrassment simmered low in your belly, even more so when you could feel the arousal that dripped from you, which your vampire visitor had no problem pointing out. “So wet for me,” she groaned, lips still refusing to find home anywhere other than your thighs. Teeth sharper than your own nipped at the skin there, bucking your hips up. “You want this, don’t you?”

It was an obvious request for another confirmation of what was to come, but your chest felt too tight to reply, no air finding your lungs the moment her breath hovered over your pulsing core. “Tell me you want it,” she requests again, voice dipping into a softer territory again, searching for your approval. Her resolve was cracking however, jaw clicking as she tried her best not to dive straight into where she craved to be.

“I do,” you whine, eyes still closed as you answered, words met with the quick and overwhelming feeling of her tongue pressing flat against your wet center. You couldn’t think too hard about the fact she was doing this right now, not when the sharp gasp had come from two mouths instead of one, a quick call of, “Fuck,” from only you this time followed. Ellie had no words, not as her tongue made another long stripe up your pussy, going much slower than you liked. It led one small roll of your hips down into her, a sign for what you searched for.

It resulted in a hand gripping your hip, pressing you further down into the mattress, ceasing any attempt to control the movements. Her mouth pressed further into you, licking at the same excruciatingly slow pace, seemingly taking her time to enjoy the taste she found between your thighs. “El,” you gasp, eyes fluttering open to glance down at her. However her eyes were closed, another press further into you came, her nose bumping your clit as she licked into you. The rush it brings is almost enough to completely paint over the lingering cramping in your stomach.

The dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure seeps into your bones, making you feel too heavy to do much else than move a hand to find Eliie’s hair, fingers tangling between the auburn strands. You tried again to guide her movements, but she was much stronger than you, paying little mind to the shaky hand that tugged at her locks.

“Taste so fuckin..” she sucked in a breath, unable to keep from dipping back into your folds, humming. “So fuckin’ good,” she finishes, words reverberating against your throbbing core. It had you trying to squirm, held down by the stone light weight of Ellie’s grip. The deeper she licked, the more you fought against her. Your body ached the do something.. anything to find comfort in the overwhelming feeling of her still slow pace. The fingers in her hair tugged again, finding a low groan in response.

The air of the room had already been heavy on your feverish skin, but now it was nearing a state of unbearably humid. Every time Ellie’s tongue made a particularly aimed movement you felt another round of fire straight in the mess that was your clenching core. It all felt so heightened, so much better. The sticky feeling on your skin did not slow either of you down, and you had little care for the sweat beading on your flesh. Not when your favorite girl’s lips were doing such mind numbing things to you.

Had you told your past self, even that of just an hour ago, that you would have allowed it to happen.. They would have laughed in your heated face. The past version of you would have sworn up and down, prayed up to the mysterious sky, that this would never happen. But now- now you have no room for denial or regret. Your mind was becoming too cloudy to house thoughts of shame, questions of if this was right. Because it felt right. The slick sound of Ellie’s mouth against you sounded right, as did your little huffs and puffs that you couldn't hide. The cramps had subsided in tandem with the tightening band in you. But you needed more, and you were gone past a point of being embarrassed to ask for it.

“I need..” you try to speak, but Ellie’s lips wrapping around your clit is the cause of the death of the forming words. A jolt of your hips is one finally strong enough to rupture the heavy hold of the vampire’s hand. Your lame attempt at a command did not go unheard by Ellie, who for the first time since this began, pulled herself away from your cunt. Her eyes darted up, looking to meet your own. But you were far too focused on something else. Her lips were glassy with your wetness, which she licked without a second thought. But the usual clear sheen that you had been no stranger to seeing on her face was more of a rosy color, a stark reminder of the reason this had begun in the first place. The slight tint of red smeared onto her chin, across the corners of her mouth, and it was oh so addicting to see. You felt no lingering shame, no shiver of disgust. Instead it made you feel even more desperate to have her against you again, but first you had to listen to her speaking. “Need what, babe?”

The urge to simply shove her face right back into your cunt flipped through the pages of scenarios in your head, but the moonlight that painted the side of your lover’s face, illuminating the red paintbrush stroke of you, had you a little too separate to risk such a bratty action.

“I need more, El. Need to cum,” you manage to whine, one light push of her head to prove your point. Ellie dipped her head down again, pressing small kisses to your sticky inner thighs. “Just love taking my time with you,” she muttered, a few more pecks planted on you were a search for forgiveness, one you graciously accepted with a loud moan when the lips finally found your clit again.

Ellie seemed to take your beg to heart, the hand that held your hip slowly dipping between your thighs. Her searching fingers met just below her chin, one long digit sliding over your slit, teasing the weeping hole with a slight press. The air feels like it has been punched from your lungs when the finger sinks into you, just as evil as her mouth as it curls into you the exact moment her lips suck a little harder. You were sure she was looking to torture you with how slowly the finger pumped in and out, working and exploring around your walls that gripped around her so tightly.

You had always heard the mythical vampire was sadistic. Ellie had never been much of that, but with ever slow movement into your aching cunt, you began to believe the whispers. Your head turned lightly to stare at the open window, the stars that dipped in the night sky were surely spotlighting your body splayed out on the bed, the auburn haired vampire between your thighs was quite the show for all the celestial beings up in the night air, every single being held its breath and watched on, you were sure of it. You didn't blame the stars, or the moon, or whatever else may have their attention focused on this tantalizing sight. If you could, you would float right out of your body to watch on yourself.

Surely you looked a mess, chest heaving with the heat of the air, with the heat of Ellie. Your limbs shook just lightly, your fingers knotted your companions hair, the messy pile of clothes on the floor, the red that painted her cheeks. Surely it would make your cheek turn bashfully if you could see it. Maybe this was sinful. The little dip into your rushing thoughts is ended with the raspy tone of Ellie’s voice.

“Relax, bunny. Gotta relax for me,” Ellie cooed against you, a few more languid presses into your cunt causing you to finally loosen around her, coupled by the continuing ministrations from her mouth on your clit. Soone another finger joins the mix, the large fingers stretching you just right. She reaches spots that have you remembering the stars you had just seen behind the black of your squeezed shut eyes, a pathetic cry falling from your lips. This reaction only encourages her to continue, the pace of her suckles and thrusts into you speed up. It's harsher everytime she plunges into you, your hips moving lightly with the pure force.

“That’s my girl, there you go,” she compliments after a long moan, the words causing another clench around her fingers. You let out another string of incoherent whines and moans, grinding down into her messy face and fingers. Somewhere in the back of your mind you cursed yourself and Ellie for the certainly ruined bedspread under your ass, but it seems like the much smaller issue when you had *this* to focus on. You were nearing your peak, and it was no secret. Your grinds against Ellie became sloppy, ununiformed and more needy than before. No words could form on your tongue, only whimpers and unintelligible begs.

The vampire never lets up, curling her fingers, your walls clenching. her teeth grazed against your clit lightly enough to have you trembling, whining softly. She knows your body as well as you do, every small sign you were reaching the final moments before your world would explode. She knew what moves of her fingers would have your legs shaking, knew where to press, how hard to go. She was no stranger to making you cum, and she definitely was on the mission to make it happen now. Her free hand grips your thigh, pushing you even more impossibly open for her, fingers pressing into you harshly enough to draw another cry. She readjusts slightly, sinking even deeper into your folds. “C’mon,” Ellie whispers, the word slightly broken, shaky and pleading. Pleading as if she needed you to come as much as you did.

Maybe she did, because the moment your back arched, a near pornographic moan filling the heavy air, spilling out of the window and swirling against the peeping eyes of the stars and moon, she moaned with you. Her fingers still within you as you gushed around her, her lips still pressed to your clit. But as your thighs shook, she slid the fingers out and replaced them with her tongue again. The pink muscle flattened against your slit again like it had earlier, this time with no attempt at going slow.

If anything, she was ravenous. Every drop your pulsing center gifted her, she sucked down like she needed it, ignoring your desperate whines of overstimulation. You attempted lamely to press her head away with the hand still tangled in her scalp, but it was no use. The pleasure of her tongue was much too overwhelming to fight.

After a moment that felt like hours, she pulled away. Her tongue licked over her lips again, collecting the rosy colored cum from where it smudged there. Her eyes stayed on your own blinking irises as her fingers raised to her already messy lips. They were coated with the same mixture of red and clear shining wetness, and she sunk them into her mouth with a moan. The debautchary that took place in front of your eyes should have your stomach queasy, should have your legs closing and pressing far away from Ellie.

But of course it doesn't, instead you watch on with morbid curiosity, watching her tongue curl around her fingers, sucking the last bits of you, leaving a glistening layer of her own spit behind. She found no shame in this situation, no shame in drinking down evey single thing you would give her, so why should you?

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes transfixed on the fingers as they fall from her lips and down to her lap, her eyes back on your own. She makes a move to crawl over you, arms locking you in from either side.

“Just got a taste of you bunny,” she mumbles, nudging her head into the crook of your neck.

Her lips pressed there, and this time you could feel her fangs under the plump fat of her lip. “Gonna let me have more?” she questioned.

Of course you would, of course you did. As you tilted your neck for her, the curtain to the side of you blew in the wind, and you closed your eyes.

“Yes.”

[luffington]

paradise circus ♡

➤ summary: Corazon gets extra needy when he smokes weed. (18+)

➤ pairing: donquixote rosinante (corazon) x gn!reader

➤ word count: 945

➤ warnings: modern AU, drug use, oral (m receiving), established relationship, fluff

➤ notes: lil stoner bf cora brainrot :D title is one of my favorite strains of weed! feedback is appreciated as always <3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Rosy pink and ruby red hues of light illuminated the otherwise dark apartment, midnight city streets lying quietly outside. Slow and rhythmic classic rock reverberated throughout the room — Corazon’s “setting the mood” playlist. The air reeked of marijuana and overly fragrant candles fighting for their life to diffuse the scent. You sunk deeper into the plush cushions of your boyfriend’s living room couch, head hazy and drowned in music. Your slightly unfocused gaze fell on the blonde man sitting on the carpeted floor in front of you, tall frame hunched over a coffee table as he rolled the second joint of the night. A quick swipe of his tongue sealed the rolling paper and he proudly showed you the final product with a goofy grin.

Corazon shuffled backwards until he settled between your legs, back pressed against the couch and head lying in your lap. He looked up at you with puppy eyes and the unlit joint resting between his plush lips. You chuckled and grabbed his heart-patterned lighter — Corazon and fire did not mix, and you tried your best to keep it out of his control when you were together. 

Fire ignited the clumsily twisted end of the joint. The blonde’s pretty maroon eyes fluttered shut as he took a long, lung-filling drag, leaning forward to exhale a long stream of smoke before returning his head back to your warm lap. 

“Thank you, angel,” he sighed with a smile. His sexy baritone voice sent pleasant vibrations throughout your body. Slender fingers brought the joint to your mouth and you noticed that it was already stained with a ring of dark red lipstick. You inhaled generously, welcoming the calming sensation that flooded every cell of your body. 

Your boyfriend always loved physical affection, but he got extra clingy when he was high. Sitting beside you on the couch, lanky arms wrapped around your shoulders and keeping your bodies pressed together. There was some bad Netflix original movie on the TV in front of you — your brain was too fried to follow the convoluted plot, and Corazon wasn’t even attempting to focus, too busy nuzzling into the crook of your neck like a cat and mumbling about how warm and soft you are. You slipped off his red beanie to pet his feathery hair and soothingly scratch his scalp. He almost purred. 

Blindly grabbing at the ashtray on the table, not daring to move away from you for even a moment, his fingers finally settled on the halfway-burnt joint. The blonde took another hit and exhaled the wispy smoke into your parted mouth. You moaned into the kiss, lips moving against his languidly. He tasted like sugary sweet cherry coke mixed with the strong earthy aftertaste of marijuana and old cigarettes. It was addicting and made your mind swirl. 

Weed inevitably made him horny. Long legs spread wide, the waistband of his sweatpants pulled down just enough to free his cock, already at full hardness after a few strokes. The movie was long forgotten and put on mute, but the light from the screen still flickered across his beautiful features.

“You’re so good at this, baby…” You’d barely touched him and there were already stars in his glazed-over eyes. He let out a delicious high-pitched mewl when you flattened your tongue and dragged it from the base of his dick to its flushed red tip. 

His long and pretty dick was always hard to swallow, stretching your throat to its limit, and especially now that the weed had made your mouth bone-dry. You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, running the tip of it along his slit the way you knew he loved. He threaded his fingers in your hair but didn’t apply any pressure, letting you take things at your own pace. Sometimes he liked to hold hands when you sucked him off — he said it made it more intimate. You thought it was adorable.

It only took a few minutes of your warm mouth wrapped around Corazon’s length to unravel him into a whiny mess, occasionally bucking his hips into your awaiting throat. He tried his best to restrain his movements – he would never forgive himself if he hurt you – but you just felt so fucking good. The blonde attempted to muffle his embarrassingly wanton noises with the back of his hand, but you tugged at his sleeve insistently. Pulling off of his cock for only a moment to tell him how pretty his voice was, how much you wanted to hear it. His face flushed red and precum beaded at the tip of his dick. 

You hollowed your cheeks and slurped noisily at his cock, stroking the base at a lazy pace. His labored breathing and increasingly louder moans signaled his approaching orgasm. “I’m so close,” he panted. “G-gonna…” That was all the warning you got before ropes of warm cum coated your mouth. You savored the salty taste and continued to suck him through the aftershocks of his climax, throat constricting around him until he was shaking from oversensitivity. When you pulled away, a thick string of saliva connected your lips to his cock.

“Sorry I finished so soon,” he mumbled shamefully. In response, you climbed into his lap and grabbed his cheeks and kissed him passionately. He whimpered at the lingering taste of his own cum. He broke the kiss and brought the mostly burnt out joint to your lips again, black ash spilling from the end and falling onto his fluffy black hoodie (which thankfully didn’t burst into flames). He watched you inhale with a lethargic smile and a dopey, loving expression. “Can I return the favor?"

[strayrockette]

My Sunshine Girl: Family Dinner

Summary: two weeks after inviting Benny into your bed, you begin to question the status of your relationship. You eat dinner at your uncles house.

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Warning: implications of family violence/DV, cursing, angst feels, and, brief mentions of religion (a theme that will pop up occasionally, if you don’t like it don’t read it)

A/N: Please excuse grammar mistakes. My tired eyes can only catch so much 😂 I’m gonna be diving into some heavy topics now. Though I’ll try my best to keep the lighthearted fluff and fun from the beginning.

You aren’t sure what the status of your relationship is. If you asked anyone in the Club they’d all laugh and say “You Benny’s girl, Sunshine, why’d you ask a stupid question like that”

If you asked Kathy she’d just snort and look you up and down, “Oh Sunny, you’re hopeless, I mean really? Ain’t it obvious by now”

Your response to both cases would be to sigh. Lots and lots of sighing.

It’s been two weeks of Benny showin’ up to your uncle's diner to pick you up from your late night shifts and whisk you to the bar.

Two weeks of you and Benny curling up on your bed in the early morning, eyes fluttering shut as you listen to his heart thump.

Two weeks of nothing.

And it's driving you mad.

He doesn’t verbalize what you are to him. Every time you think about asking your tongue freezes. Muscles tensing as your brain struggles to put your thoughts into words.

You squeeze the wet cloth in your hand, mind warring with itself. With a grunt you presume your cleaning activity for the night. You’d scrub all the empty tables raw. Your knuckles and wrists aching.

Your uncle Harold let you work the late shift at your request. He’d been reluctant to let you work the dead shift for safety concerns but after a long discussion of action plans in case of an emergency, he’d conceded.

The diner is quiet, the low hum of the overhead light flickers and you make a note to remind your uncle to get it fixed. You take a 5th glance out the window hoping to find Benny’s motorcycle parked out front, but he isn't there. You frown and turn away again, you know you would have heard him before you saw him, but he’s an hour late and it feels unusual not to see him waiting for you.

“Lookin’ for your man?” Jerry croaks from the bar counter hunched over a cappuccino, his white beard ruffled from insistent scratching. He comes in every Saturday night at 11:30 and stays just past midnight.

You throw the wet rag into a bucket, “I guess I am, Mr. Spore”

You continue your thoughts allowed, “I don’t even know what we are”

You grab the bucket with your cleaning supplies and lug it to the kitchen. You open the storage room to your left and place the dirty rags into the laundry bin-another task for you to remind your uncle to do. You busy yourself with cleaning the bucket in the storage room sink, a quirk of your lips as you hear Jerry chide you in the background , “Jerry, I beg you, I’m tired of formalities”

You can hear him pick up his cup, sipping his hot cappuccino. It would be the last one he drank before he would place money on the counter and wish you a good and safe night. “I’ve seen the way that boy looks at ya.”

You hum idly. Completely aware of how Benny looks at you. It’s almost suffocating and endearing.

You take a quick glance at the kitchen sink, half the dishes have been washed. You call out for Cole, the dish boy, noticing that the back door is open you walk up and peer outside.

He’s leaning up against the wall, taking slow drags from his cigarette. He turns his head and nods at you, “Is Jerry still here?”

“Yeah, he’s almost done,” Cole nods at your statement, “alright, give me another 20 and I’ll finish washing up”

You respond with a nod and turn away. Leaving him to his break. You pop open the kitchen door and enter back into the dining section, “I don't know Mr.-Jerry, we haven’t made anything finale?” you end it as a question, unsure of what words to describe your relationship with Benny.

You slide onto a stool next to Jerry, “It just feels weird, not knowing.”

You turn to look at him, resting your head on your palms.

Jerry waves his hand in the air, discarding your confusion. He gives you a dry huff, “He’s a man, it's not the words you should look at but his actions”

His grey eyes look at you with fatherly affection, you recognize it as the same look your uncle gives you whenever he sees you come into his view. You swallow thickly and smile appreciatively, “I’ll keep that in mind, Jerry”

Jerry moves to dig into his jacket pocket, his stiff aching joints slow him down but he doesn’t seem to be in a rush, “I’ve lived a long time”

He pulls out some change and dollars, he places them down one by one, “No man would sit patiently outside or inside a diner for hours for some lady who means nothin’, he’s your man alright”

He gives you a soft pat on the shoulder and then ruffles the top of your head, “Don’t overthink what hasn’t been said and start thinking about what’s been done”

He slips out of the barstool, and makes his way to the exit. He mummers a good night and tells you to be safe before stepping into the night.

He has left you with more wisdom than you thought you’d get. You shake your head and drag your hand over your face.

Benny is nowhere in sight when you lock up the diner. He must be busy or somethin’, you think.

You take to sitting on the steps leading to the diner doors and you wait, He has to come at some point. You’ve wrapped your arms around your legs, head resting on your forearms when you hear a rumble.

You look up, heart leaping and a smile on your face, and-

Your uncles old truck had pulled up to the diner, he waves at you from the drivers seat beckoning you to walk over. It takes you a couple minutes of looking past your uncles truck, peering into the night hoping for any sign that Benny would be there. But he never comes. Giving up on waiting, you get up and walk towards your uncle.

He steps out once you’re close enough, opening his arms for a hug. It doesn’t take much for you to accept his offer and you jump into it. You mumble a hi.

Your uncle pats your back, “Gina and I were wondering if you’d like to eat dinner with us”

You pull away and look up at him with surprised brows, “it’s 1:30 in the morning.”

He laughs and shrugs his shoulders, “the ole lady insisted on putting off dinner till you got off work”

You can’t help the smile on your face, “Well, if the ole lady insists then we should not disappoint “

—

Your uncle pulls up to a washed out 2 story brick house. You can see a feminine figure waiting out on the porch.

You hop out of the truck to run up to Gina, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “I hear I’m being summoned for dinner”

She hums, “I miss having a gal to talk to over a meal, this lump is no good at conversation”

She jerks her chin at your uncle, you can hear him scoff and mumble about how he has no interest in knowing the difference of a macron and macaroon. A heated discussion for sure, you think with amusement.

He herds the two of you inside the house his large looming figure barely fitting through the door. He stands at a whopping 6’4, his large shoulders and fit build look out of place in the tiny two story home his wife had inherited from her parents. Despite looking out of place, he melded into the environment with ease. Traces of his masculine personality being scattered through the home with his baseball card collections and hunting gear that he uses during winter camping trips with his buddies.

The atmosphere is different from your ma’s home. There is a lightness in the air and a buzzing feeling in your chest. You think it’s the feeling of love and care that your uncle and aunt have put into the home. You wonder if you’d ever be able to replicate that in your own home.

You pull out a chair once in the dining room, and sink into the dark wood, a vibrant red cushion softening the seat. Gina has set the table with your favorites, homemade mashed potatoes, buttered corn on a cob, and pork chops.

You smile gratefully at your aunt, her dark hair is slowly graying but she looks more youthful with how her eyes gleam lovingly at you. “I appreciate the thought you put into this, Gigi”

She gives you her best smile reminding you that she’d always take care of you if you ever let her. You shake your head at her, fondly remembering how she’d often jump at the chance to provide you with your wants and needs as a teen. You used to think she did it because of your special circumstances but no, that’s just Gina’s loving heart. Bleeding out for anybody who needs it.

Your uncle sits at the end of the table, he’s holding his hand out and looks at you, “Under this roof, we give thanks to the LORD”.

He reminds you gently, softly prodding to see if you’ll accept and join. You glance at his palm, the rough calluses stand out against the soft white lace table cloth, his other hand is occupied with Gina’s much smaller hand and you notice that she too is holding up her hand to you, she encourages you softly with a tilt of her head.

You slowly slip your hand into theirs. You close your eyes and bow your head. There’s a moment of silence before Gina kicks Harold who coughs with a start. He begins with his list of things he is grateful for. You are the first thing on his list. Your heart warms and everything else slips away. You had forgotten what it had felt like to be a part of a family. And you almost want to chide yourself for taking everything for granted as a teenager.

A gentle tug pulls you from your thoughts, “What about you?” he asks.

You look up and find both of them staring at you, “Oh I don’t know..”

You trail off in thought. Your aunt gives you an encouraging smile and lifts one finger, “Just name one thing you are most thankful for”

Your shoulders slump and you think, “I guess I’m thankful to be back, thankful for the amazing birthday I had last Saturday and I’m thankful for meeting…some new people..”

You’ve met a lot of new people these last two weeks. But there’s only one person you’re thinking about. You feel your cheeks heating as you think of his blue eyes peering into your soul.

Your aunt nods excitedly, “There ya go, there’s always somethin’ to give thanks for.”

Your uncle is quiet but he’s got a smile on his bearded lips, “Now we dig in”

As dinner progresses conversation picks up, you give them updates on the garden your ma used to tend to. You tell them that you’ve gotten better at keeping plants alive. Gina laughs because she remembers how heartbroken you used to get when every plant your ma would let you take care of; died.

Your uncle jokes that maybe you’re having a honeymoon period with the plants and it’ll be over before you know it. You shake your hands in the air to try and dispel the curse he just put on you. “No, it can never be over! They will all survive,” you laugh.

By the time dinner ends you offer to help clean up but Gina waves you off. Telling you to sit and enjoy dessert. She brings out her banana cream cookies. Gina tells you that she’s finally perfected the recipe after many failed attempts. Your uncle huffs and points to himself, “at my expense”

She hushes him, “you insisted”

Playful conversation continues. You’re slowly making your way through your first cookie, enjoying the company and the new updates they give you.

You’re on your third cookie when Gina slaps Harold’s arm and sends him a look. You watch the silent showdown that your uncle is losing.

She hesitates, “We-uh..we noticed you been staying at your mom's house more often”

Her voice is gentle, her light brown eyes search your face.

You give her a nod not sure where the conversation is going. “We” She paused, her eyes flickering to your uncle, “have…some concerns”

You laugh, “What kind of concerns?”

You aren’t sure why they’d be concerned, it was your uncle who had encouraged you to start thinking about making your ma’s old home yours. He had been taking care of it for you until you were ready to take on the responsibility. Gina has helped maintain the flower bed out front- a mix of colored roses, daisies, and lilies- and the garden at the back of the property.

While you were away they had even renovated the house to have new appliances and updated the wallpapers and flooring.

You propped your arms on the table, leaning forward to look at them, “I promise I'm doing fine, still unpacking but I’m gettin’ around to gettin’ settled”

You try to reassure them but it doesn’t seem to work. You can tell Gina is getting uncomfortable the longer the conversation goes on. Your eyes travel to your uncle to see him slowly chewing on a cookie. He’s avoiding eye contact and his hulking figure is trying to sink into the seat.

“Wh-Why-What’s goin’ on with you two?” You blurt out.

Your uncle clears his throat, picking up a napkin and wiping his beard and lips, “Someone brought it to m-our attention that a fella has been walking in and out the house”

You aren’t sure if your heart has stopped or if it’s beating too fast, “This about Benny?”

Gina leans forward, her light blue dress ruffles as she clears the table. Glasses clink as she stacks plates and slowly exits from what is sure to be a disaster.

Your uncle’s face is unsure, “Yes and no”

You lean back in your seat, dessert forgotten. A heavy weight has dropped to the pit of your stomach, “Then what is it about?”

It’s silent for a minute. The only sounds being your aunt cleaning dishes. The soft glow of the dining room light feels too bright and oppressive.

“Look, I’ll keep this short; that boy ain’t good for yah” He’s placed his hands over the table, his palms facing the white lace table cloth, “It’s bad enough, you refuse to talk about your time away and now ya got a vandal in your ma’s home, it-”

You cut him off, “You don’t know him and you promised me I didn’t have to talk if I didn’t want to”

Your uncle's voice is calm and he tries to clean up the can of worms he’s opened up, “I know enough about his type, your ma-”

“Don’t,” you warn, “Don’t say it”

“I’m just lookin’ out for you, peanut,” He sighs in resignation, your childhood nickname slipping from his lips, “You been through too much to end up with-”

“With what? Scum?? Ain’t that what Gina’s pops said about you?” You bark back, “You know nothin’ ‘bout Benny”

He ignores your statement, his heart aching.

“I know enough,” he speaks over your loud scoff, “Boy’s got a temper worse than a bull, you don-”

His implication squeezes your heart, “He’s not him”

“Your ma was so sure of your pa, look how that ended up” your uncle asserts, he remains seated, his brown eyes urging you to listen, “I’m just tryin’ to protect ya”

Before anything happens to ya goes unsaid.

His comment stabs you in the heart. You push the echos of distant screaming. It doesn’t belong in the light, you blink rapidly warding away the memories.

He continues as you keep silent, “I already told him to stop comin'-”

“You did what?” Your frustration starts to build, “It’s not your place to go around tellin’ people they can’t be around me”

Your uncle looks away, his fingers fidgeting with the tablecloth, “He’s no good, you met him once and you already got him in ya bed-” Your uncle shakes his head not wanting to go down that road, “I’m just sayin’ you don’t know enough about him.”

You shake your head, refusing to let the idea of Benny ever gettin’ violent with you be a possibility. “He isn’t, he wouldn’t..”

The doubt is sinking in and you hate it. You hate not knowing if you’ve really met a good man. Or if you’re simply blinded.

“You gotta understand peanut, you take off one day and don’t talk to us for 4 years, 4 years,” He repeats the last bit, his eyes sunken in, worries and stress embedded into his face, “then you show up outta the blue, no warning, bruised up with tears in your eyes, you refuse to talk about why you left and why you came back or what happened, and now you got a damn Vandal at your hip…”

His mouth opens and closes, he’s got no words other than, “We have a right to be concerned ‘bout ya”

He fidgets in his seat, “I think it’s best you focus on healin, seein’ a doctor or somethin’ you know, talk to us, we’re alway-”

“No” You bite out. “I’m fine.”

Your uncle laughs, “Fine? Are you really fine? Peanut, you’re spiraling out of control, we-”

His voice drops and he hangs his head, “I promised your ma, I’d take care of ya, if I say you can’t see this boy-”

“9 years,” you whisper. Your mouth is dry, “I’ve been spiraling for the last 9 years and you’re just now noticing”

His mouth opens and closes, he’s losing control of the situation but then again what else did he expect, “Peanut, plea-”

You shake your head, tears swelling, “It takes you 9 FUCKING YEARS,” Your voice rises, the little girl in you screaming at the top of her lungs, “9 YEARS OF MASKING MY PAIN AND BEING A GOOD GIRL, 9 YEARS OF HIDING BEHIND OBEDIENCE AND YOU CHOOSE NOW?? NOW TO NOTICE I’M SPIRALING”

Now, when you’ve started to feel like a normal girl. With normal concerns and normal friends and a normal…boyfriend?

Your uncle tries to reach over and grab your hand but you pull away, “All because what?? I’ve got a man in my bed??”

You choke on your laughter, “I’ll have you know all we do is sleep. WE FUCKING SLEEP AND HE HOLDS ME”

Your voice quivers, “He just holds me…and you’re tryin’ to take that away from me?”

Your hands grip your head, fingers curling around the base of your scalp, there’s too much going on inside you and all you want is peace.

“I-I” You squeeze your eyes shut, “I can’t do this”

You push away from the table and rush to leave. Your shoulder bumps into the wall knocking over a picture, you race out of the house stumbling as you grab your bag and sweater from the couch.

Your uncle is left staring at the space you once occupied a sad terrible feeling in his chest. He sits in his seat, shoulders deflated.

Gina slowly walks into the dining room, her soft hands rubbing his shoulder, moving to wrap around him in a hug, “Too far?” he asks.

Gina hums. The quiet of the night chilling his bones. Did I ruin everything, he wonders somberly.

–

The night air shrouds you in a heaviness you haven’t felt in a while. It’s quiet, so terribly quiet and you hate it. Your fingers press into your eyes, forcing the tears to return, forcing the memories to die.

Your mouth quivers as memories are thrust to the forefront of your mind,

“It’s alright baby, just hide in here and everything will be okay” Her fingers trembled as she pushed you down into a sitting position. Wiping away the tears staining your face, she begs you to keep quiet. “Shhhh, momma’s gonna take care of everything”

You block the rest of it out. You quicken your pace. You’re running through the street, tears falling despite your desperation to bury it. Bury more memories, more terrible, dreadful thoughts, it’s too much.

It isn’t until you bump into a figure, stumbling to a forceful stop; that you take in your surroundings.

Between the swell of tears, you see Gail’s face with furrowed brows and red lips pursed in concern. The glowing sign of the Vandal Bar shines brightly behind her. You can hear the hustle and bustle of men hollering and cheering on the inside.

You blink and struggle to speak. Your chest tightens and unwanted sobs leave your mouth.

Someone steps out of the bar, It’s Corky, “oh shit, what-?”

“Wh-wh-w-?” You struggle to speak a full sentence so you push out a name, “Benny”

Corky sensing the urgency runs back inside. Gail guides you to sit on the sidewalk. Her arms wrap around your shoulders.

“You’ll be alright sunny,” She whispers, her fingers tucking a wild strand of hair behind your ear. She stays with you until Benny races out the club doors.

His eyes roam the street till he lands on your sobbing shoulders and bent head, your hands are wiping away furious tears that won’t stop. Gail isn’t sure what to do to calm you down, but she figures the only person who could is Benny, so she slips away, leaving you alone in the silence of the night with Benny’s concerned eyes watching over you.

You feel him sit next to you. His shoulders and thighs brushing against you. You suck in a breath, “I waited for you”

You sniffle, the sound awfully loud in the silence.

He rubs the back of his neck, “I didn’t know not showin would lead you to ballin your eyes out, baby”

You don’t glance at him nor do you acknowledge what he’s said. He’s clasped his hands over his bent knees, his eyes staring up at the night sky.

“You listened to him.” You don’t mention who him was exactly but you know that Benny understands. Because he sighs, “He said I’d ruin you.”

He says it quietly, his voice a deep sorrowful rasp. “You’re too good for me…”

You angle your head to look at him, your tears have stopped but you can still feel the wet trail they left behind, “do you want me?”

It’s a bold question, but something you’ve been dying to ask. He fidgets with his rings, his head slowly turns to you his brows furrowed, he bites his lip and he nods. His blue eyes are clear and attentive to your facial expressions.

You’re glaring at him and he finds this amusing, “Then why didn’t you show up”

Benny wants to say something but doesn’t know what. He looks away and stares at his hands, he clasps one over his wrists, “he’s right”

The admission scares him. You’re too good for him. Too pure and innocent. It’s been two weeks of bliss for Benny. You’re the quiet in the storm. The peace in the chaos. He didn’t know life could feel more fulfilling with a lady by his side. But he has you now and he’s never felt so…light. Riding gives him freedom. But being with you gives him peace.

He struggles to find the words to tell you how he feels. To tell you what he thinks but he finds himself remaining silent. Offering the bare minimum of an explanation. None of it explains his heart.

“I’m already ruined,” you bite out. “But..you make me feel… less…broken”

Benny glances at you. He watches as you turn and bite your lip, your eyes flickering away tears. A stark contrast to the happy fun girl he’s witnessed the last two weeks. He recognizes a weight on your shoulders. A weight that he’s carried himself.

“Forgive me,” it’s all he can say as he watches you turn in on yourself. Sinking deeper into your thoughts. He wants to see you smile again. To hear your laugh and watch you dance around carelessly. He wants you to be free of burdens but he doesn’t know how to help.

You shift, adjusting your position on the cold hard sidewalk, you flicker a look in his direction. He’s staring at you with sad eyes, “You have to pick me up every night now. For the rest of your life.”

He blinks not expecting such a simple request for forgiveness, he gives you a smile, “that all?”

“No. You have to give me a ride whenever I want to wherever I want and…”

You try to think of something else, “You have to make me yours.”

You like the way he smirks at you, his left hand reaches out cupping your chin, his thumb brushes your bottom lip which is now bruised from all your biting, “Baby, you were mine the moment you got on my bike”

Taglist: @storiesfromafan , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @preciouslilmonster

[mickandmusings]

sunday kind of love

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

summary: for six days a week, the miller household is nothing but hustle and bustle from the crack of dawn each morning until midnight each night. life is fast-paced and hectic between work and school, full of responsibilities and deadlines. but, for one day each week, all of it is forgotten for a day of pure relaxation.

or

why sunday is the best day of the week, according to joel miller.

warnings: pure fluff very little plot; reader is a housewife (not like 50's housewife don't worry, only mentioned); unmentioned but envisioned slight age gap; first piece with no y/n; I wanted it to feel like a cozy autumn morning; author is desperately in love with joel miller and wants to be his little wife; this was a random thought from my brain, so it's purely self-indulgent, enjoy :)

*this is probably the smallest and most plotless thing I've ever written, sorry friends.*

-

The air is still.

It lacks the usual chaos of a normal morning in the Miller household. Joel's alarm isn't blaring loudly enough to be heard in the hallway. Sarah's pitter-patter of footsteps down the stairs do not sound. The sound of Tommy's truck engine roaring in the driveway, and, eventually, his rattling for food in the kitchen, never reached the sound barrier. There's no bustle of Millers chattering aimlessly in the kitchen, or the clashing of various pans and plates for breakfast. The radio in the kitchen doesn't play the morning news after a Top 40 hit, and the TV hasn't been turned on since earlier the night before. The house is entirely silent, safe for the hum of the running central heating system, and the quiet clicking of the analog clock in the kitchen.

Up the stairs and through the door on the left lies one Joel Miller, weary brown eyes still closed in sleep, chest rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths. Beside him, or, more aptly, curled into his side and resting against his frame, is his wife. She's been awake for nearly fifteen minutes, simply watching her husband sleep next to her, watching his eyes twitch as he dreams, his lips parting with soft snores. She smiles, her heart warm with the thought of him finally getting the rest he deserves. She was grateful for her husband's hard-working nature. Joel's contracting business allowed her to stay at home, and she and Sarah always had everything they needed and most of what they wanted-Joel was hopelessly in love with his wife, and could easily be persuaded into almost anything by one look from his daughter. His wife did realize the toll it took on him, as much as he tried to hide all of his fatigued movements as he stumbled through the door each night. She'd pleaded and argued with him about contributing in her own way, but he'd shut her down with a sweet kiss and a stubborn refusal each time. Now, she watched him rest, the kind of deep sleep he needed.

For once in the history of possibly the entirety of its existence, the Miller house was quiet, mostly asleep, because there was nothing on the agenda. No work, no school, no after-school soccer practices or late night projects, there was simply rest, a whole day to do absolutely nothing.

She gives Joel's sleeping form one last smile before giving his bare bicep a light kiss. She slides out from under his arm as silently and stealthily as possible, not wanting to disturb his earned peace. She does so successfully, sliding the duvet back over her now empty side to keep the spot next to him warm even in her absence. She pads across the carpet, tossing one of Joel's well-worn sweatshirts over her frame to combat the chill. Autumn had finally fallen over Austin, and its bite was evident in the morning, but she welcomed it into their home like an old friend-autumn was perhaps her favorite part of the year.

Her sock-clad feet pad down the carpeted stairs with practiced ease, her arms stretching above her head, hoping to shake out the sleep still encasing her bones. She lets out a yawn, bringing her arms into her chest as she scrunches, finally releasing her sigh as she shuffles over to the kitchen. She makes quick work of starting up the coffee pot, watching as it drips for a moment before shuffling over to the living room. She greets their feline friend perched cozily in an old armchair by the window, scratching behind her ears as the furry friend nuzzles against her hand. Her hands move to push open the blinds of the windows, letting in the early morning light, which her aforementioned friend seems to enjoy, plopping into a spot where the sun shines on the carpet. She chuckles at the cat, moving over to light the fall scented candle sitting atop the tall entertainment system, she clicks the lighter and the flames flicker in a wave, as if to greet her.

The sudden quiet of the coffee pot alerts her that her morning caffeine fix is finished, and she hastily pads back into the kitchen and pours a hearty amount into an oversized mug. With the first sip, she feels her entire body sigh in content, the perfect start to her perfect day.

She finds herself gravitating back towards the dining room, plopping into one of the well-loved chairs and curling her legs up to her chest, enjoying the view out the glass of the back door. The trees had already begun to shed, the grass covered in shades of red and yellow. Joel would grumble about the mess, but she would speak highly enough of the changing scenery that he'd forget all about his complaints. She's watching a neighborhood dog make his rounds around the houses, sniffing mailboxes and greeting the morning runners, when footsteps on the stairs alert her of someone else's presence now up and awake. Judging by the heavier footfalls, she assumes it's her husband and she internally groans, she'd hoped he would get more sleep, he deserved it.

Sure enough, when she turns, she meets his big brown eyes peering back at her lovingly. He's clad in an inside-out shirt he'd likely pulled from the basket of clean clothes inside their bedroom-she hadn't got around to folding them just yet-and his gray boxers, hair sticking out in every direction, still messy from sleep. He yawns and rubs his face, rubbing sleep from his eyes as his steps draw closer and closer to her. He leans down to kiss her good morning, his mustache tickling against her skin. It's a sweet front for his real goal-quickly sliding the mug of coffee out of her hand for his own taking. She says nothing, letting him think she's fallen for his charms blindly, as if it was something he'd never pulled on her. He gives a sly grin as he brings the mug to his lips, taking a gulp before pulling a face and drawing the mug back to his wife's waiting hands.

"Should've given me a warnin', baby, that was...awful."

Joel did not much care for his wife's seasonal flavored coffee, and he particularly hated the pumpkin-infused brew he'd stolen a sip of.

"Oh boo hoo, Miller, you're the one who stole my coffee."

Joel rolls his eyes, shuffling to their kitchen to brew his own pot of coffee. He shuffles back over, quickly picking his wife up into his arms and slides into her chair before plopping her back into his lap. His wife rolls her eyes, leaning into his chest as silence falls over them. His left hand rests on her hip, his thumb rubbing small circles onto the spot, the morning sun bouncing off the gold band on his hand. The only sound between them was the dripping and soft rumbling of the coffee pot and the morning birds singing through the windows. Without a word, both halves of the couple enjoy their lazy morning, happy to have momentary bliss. Soon, Sarah would be trampling down the stairs in search of breakfast and coercing her father into taking her to the movies, but, for now, Joel sits half-awake with his wife in his arms, staring out at the beauty of an early Sunday morning in Austin. In a feeling he's only just grown accustomed to, Joel feels content, peaceful. Well, until he notes the heaps of leaves covering his front lawn.

"Damn leaves already fallin', have'ta to go buy a new rake."

His wife sighs as he plops her back into the chair, running his hands through his hair with a grumble as he fixes a steaming mug of his own coffee. So much for her lazy Sunday.

-

[muntitled]

𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡

Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader I Brief!Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader

Summary: you ought to not be surprised by Farleigh's constant cheating. You should, instead, use his greatest adversary to get back at him.

Warnings: Language, Dark fic, Mentions of Violence, Toxic Relationship, Mentions of Drug Use, Smut (+18), Public Sex, Cheating, Dirty Talk, Dub/Con, Choking, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Threats, Rough Sex, Sadism, Masochism, Dry Humping, Orgasm Denial,Cervix fucking, Dom!Oliver, Subspace, Corruption Kink, Humiliation,

This film opened my brain and spilled out everything inside.

𖤓

Because neither you nor Farleigh had ever been modest about your relationship, Oliver was made privy to every single bit of it. You both were so indiscreet and so hellbent on showing everyone else that you were together, it felt as if Oliver lived in your skin.

Whenever you and Farleigh cuddled drunkenly, Oliver was made privy. Whenever you and Farleigh exchanged sexually charged glances across the dinner table, Oliver was made privy. Whenever Farleigh was touch-starved and sank his claws around your throat, Oliver, always skulking in the background, was made privy. Whenever you two fucked. He was there.

Oliver could hear the two of you eating each other alive during a majority of his stay at Saltburn so he should be used to this behavior by now.

“What a slut,” Farleigh's words are wrapped in humid sweat, with his hands locked firmly around your throat, “What a good fucking slut.”

Oliver, having just decided to take a midnight stroll, watches from the shadows as Farleigh takes you right there in the courtyard. He may not particulary fond of Farleigh, still Oliver had to applaud that he at least had the decency to ravage you in secret. Oliver remains watching, not because it gives him any sexual gratification, but only because he did not imagine your sex lives to be this visceral… certainly not this animalistic.

“You are fucking filth, you know that?” Farleigh asks, rutting into you with your back pressed against a stone surface. Instead of your eyes fluttering shut, you were gazing over Farleigh's shoulder, staring straight ahead at the shadow skulking in the darkness.

Oliver held a finger up to his lips, prompting you to keep your mouth shut.

You watch each other as Farleigh fucks into you, continuing his words of mindless praise. “Gorgeous fucking filth-” and you both cum at that. Farleigh with his eyes shut, and you, with your mouth hanging open and your gaze stationed on Oliver.

Before this exact moment, Felix was the only thing that existed in Oliver's whole wide world. He did not notice you, but never ever think that he was not aware of you. In fact, as far as Oliver knew, you held no standing of any official significance in Saltburn.

Beyond, of course, being Farleigh's overcompensated whore.

You were almost as inescapable as Farleigh, but not nearly as annoying and for the most part, you played the role of a good little girl, forever glued to her unfaithful boyfriend’s side.

These are the thoughts that pollute Oliver’s mind as he drifts through the vibrancy of his own party, having left the maze and Felix's limp body in it.

Oliver's feet, clad in all-too-expensive Italian leather only seem to weigh him down as he drifts aimlessly through the egregious castle. Neon lights spill over a carpet stitched with cocaine and he has to fight the urge not to shove past the drunken bodies congesting his pathway.

For the longest time, Oliver was convinced that you were one of them: These people disguised as parasitic waste dancing underneath the moonlight, celebrating his supposed birthday. Instead, Oliver finds you here, taking up space in the Blue Room with your figure helplessly draped over the bed.

Your form is reminiscent of The Nightmare. One of Oliver’s most beloved paintings, reason being, because it was so unequivocally dreadful. He watches you as he would The Nightmare.

Your eyes are wet and your body is wracking with pitiful sobs into your forearm. Ollie may not be good at emotions but he can tell you're distraught- like one of Fuseli's girls.

Soon, the whole thing becomes too uncomfortable to watch and he clears his throat as he says,

“Shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't think anyone was in here.”

“Oh-Ollie!”

Your shoulders shoot up, and you nearly jump off the bed in apparent fright. Your eyes are wide saucers and your skin is dark in the moonlight. Ollie has to resist the urge to lick his lips.

He wanted to fucking eat you alive.

“Fuck, did I scare you?” He hunches his shoulders, making himself smaller than he usually was. “My apologies.” He had to appease you somehow in your startled state and you You quick to press a shaky palm to your cheeks, utterly devestated to find the surface of your skin wet and salty.

Out of all the parasites in this nest, you were the least bloodthirsty.

“How utterly embarrassing,” you coo, before wiping furiously away at your cheeks.

Sensing the perfect opening, Oliver steps over the threshold, polluting the space, as he did the rest of Saltburn, with his presence alone.

“Where'd you come from?” You ask before sitting up at the edge of the bed.

“Murdering my best friend.” Oliver answers cooly, with his wooden horns silhouetted by the moonlight.

As he creeps closer the moonlight highlights the crevices of your face and Ollie is able to capture the smile that cracks across your visage. He loves that.

You are so deliciously routine.

“Understandable,” you calmly shoot back, “Sometimes I could just fucking kill Farleigh myself.”

How curious. You thought he was joking.

“That's why you were crying, then?” Ollie asks, as he skulks about the Blue Room. He glides his finger across the dusty mantle before turning his eyes back to you, “You were crying because of Farleigh?”

He already knew the answer but he wanted to hear you say it.

Your glittery brows curve again above your puffy eyes, just as your lips protrude into a shaky pout. Fuck he was so painfully hard.

“You'd rather eat glass than hear about my common relationship problems,” you chuckle, fighting back a sob.

“I'd rather eat glass than get back to that stupid party.” And his eyes are so genuine, you immediately believe him. “You'd be saving me, he says, before finally planting himself down on the bed beside you. “Promise.”

“Not much to tell honestly,” You shrug, causing the left string of your cocktail dress to fall off your shoulder. You leave it there. “ You know how Farleigh can be... He has somewhat of a-”

“-Communal penis?” Ollie interjects, “Fucking anything and everything that even vaguely gives him the time of day?”

“Exactly!” and before you know it, you're giggling in the dark with a stranger. “I get tested for STD's like I'm a fucking invalid-”

“The sexiest fucking invalid I've ever come across.” He's closer now. Close enough to tell you've been drinking.

With your eyes trained on his full lips, a thought strikes you suddenly. "Happy birthday, Ollie.” That is enough to snap his gaze up from your exposed collarbone, and up to your big, round eyes. He does not respond for several seconds, promtpting you with the devestaing thought that you might have struck some unforseen nerve.

“H-ave I upset you?” You ask in such genuine concern and naivete, it nearly causes Oliver to cum in his fucking pants. He needed to defile you so badly. He needed you to cry around his cock. He just needed you-

“'Course not," Oliver clears his throat before unclenching and clenching his wired fist, "It's just-you're the first person that's said that to me all night.” Your eyes are hazy now, with your brain having caught on to the very daunting fact that you're in a room with someone who perhaps has other intentions. He is leaning in before slithering his calloused hand on your thigh. Never ever do you move away. Never ever do you tell him off.

“I find that hard to believe-” your bones are rattling as the warmth of his palm spreads to the inside of your steadily opening thighs. “Surely Felix must've said-”

“Fuck fucking Felix- the world doesn't revolve around him!” You're corralled into silence, with this man steadily pushing you back against the bed. “We don't need to talk about Felix,” he looks absolutely ravenous as the tips of his fingers finally make contact with your clothed cunt. “Do you want me to make you cum?”

It's so blatantly filthy, you cannot help but arch your back off the bed and press yourself further against his fingers. “F-Fuck… Ollie-” your breathing is laboured and Ollie watches utterly mesmerised by the way your hips move against his hand.

“I h-heard something about you-”

“What did you hear?” asks Oliver before pulling down your soaked underwear.

“That you don't care about fucking on menses.” You say, awaiting a response but getting none because Oliver stuffs his face between your legs. He's eating you out with absolute fervour, with his nose bumping periodically against your clit.

“Where'd you hear that?” He mumbles against your cunt.

He did not expect to be so utterly taken by you. This is wholly unexpected.

“A certain bottled blonde- FUCK- J-Just like that- please, God, please-”

He only pulls away, only to shrug off his blazer. With his horns and his cock indenting against his pants, he looks absolutely terrifying, that only has you rutting in the air helplessly.

“You mean Venetia is not a real blonde?” He asks before shoving his face in between your legs once more, “I feel betrayed.” The sarcasm drips from his tongue. The same tongue that slithers out his mouth to lick hurriedly against your cunt. He suctions his lips against your hole, as if he wanted to taste inside you.

“I didn't fuck her-” He pants, before pushing his nose against your cunt, “I didn't fuck her all the way- FUCKING BITCH-” Sharp pain bleeds from his scalp because your fingers and its acrylics are buried in his hair now.

“G-God, yes, Ollie-” you're actively rubbing your cunt against his face, absolutely using him to get off. Almost immediately, Oliver immediately decides that won't do.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He asks, before pinching your clit causing you to still your movements completely. Your torso is wracking with sweat and your nipples pierce through the softness of your dress.

“O-Ollie P-please-”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He asks before removing his face from your cunt all together. You try desperately, to hold your moan, but the sight of him crawling up your torso seems enough to almost have you cumming untouched.

You fight against it. You fight against the warmth in the pits of your stomach, you fight against the urge to hump mindlessly into the air until your cunt creates friction with… something. You fight hard.

His breath is warm against your face, but never once do you look away.

“I use you,” he whispers before slithering a hand around your throat.

He squeezes.

“And I'd fucking die before I ever let it be the other way around.” He squeezes and squeezes until you're tapping furiously against his palm.

“Look at how gorgeous you look when you're not being a filthy fucking whore.” You can't help it. Your hips immediately buck up into nothing despite your shortness of breath. You're clawing at his wrists, hoping he'd ease his grip but Oliver does nothing of the sort. In fact, he only moans at the sight of your eyes sinking to the back of your head-

“Fucking, fuck-” He curses, before quickly undoing the vexing buttons of his pants. “Bloody disgusting,” he says, watching the drool ease out your mouth, “You are bloody disgusting-” he sinks into you the very moment he eases his hand away from your throat. You're gulping generously at the air as Oliver slaps against your cheeks, bringing you back to the land of the living.

“There she is,” he punctuates his sentence with a violent thrust, “There she fucking is-”

Pleasure and pain shoot through every channel of your body until you can't even decipher the two. “OH MY FUCKING GOD-”

“I love when you call me that, baby,” He mumers with his eyelids heavy, “I fucking love when you call me that, with your pretty fucking voice, you USELESS fucking bitch-”

It is absolutely sick and absolutely deranged. Every other word that skates out of his mouth is a contradiction of the last and you're utterly frightened of the beast taking you so roughly.

“You're taking it so well-” he whispers, before letting his hand squeeze your nipples through your dress, “Your cunt is taking my cock so fucking well, baby- Fuck-” when the head of his cock presses to that sensitive pillowy plushness, you're wailing in the dark like a banshee. Wanting to push him off of you, but not wanting the pleasure to end. Your struggle only brings him closer and closer to edge.

“I-Is that your fucking cervix, baby- Fuck-”

“Oh God- Ollie.”

He nods, “Now you're gonna cum for me, yeah? You're gonna cum for me and you're gonna think about your stupid cunt of a boyfriend. How he doesn't fuck you like I do-” your orgasm has already started to trickle in and your hips lift up to collide with his, “Tell me- Tell me you can't fucking live without me-” He says, “I need it to cum, tell me, tell me-”

“I need you, Ollie.” His lips stutter open, just as his thrusts become shallower and shallower “I need you to fucking live, Ollie-”

“FUCK- oh fucking fuck-” his spunk fills your insides, just as the entirety of your orgasm washes over you and you immediately realize that you're crying. You're crying because everything feels so good. Oliver has completely strummed you to orgasm. He has moulded your body into everything he needs it to be.

“I fucking use you.” He says, “Not the other way around.”

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 7 - Family Dinner

Pray for Christian. He’s just realizing that he now has two kids, who race every weekend in dangerous cars, only for them to have no life outside said cars. Max might be a little OOC, but ya know – who cares. I know I said that I would post tomorrow but free practice doesn't even start until midnight where I am. So it's going to be pushed back to Friday night at the latest and then a definite post on Sunday. Anyway, enjoy and don’t forget to comment if you want to be added to the tag list.

The entire way to the restaurant, you were almost shaking with anxiety. You knew you would get there 15 minutes early, but would that be too much? Would you be the last one to show up? Vito had texted you that so far, it was only him, Christian and Geri, with Riggs and Lacy. But that couldn’t stop your brain with coming up with worst case scenarios. But, you couldn’t help it. You took a couple of deep breaths as the car pulled up to the restaurant. 

Around the entrance, there seemed to be thousands of reporters and photographers. That made you panic as well. You shot a quick text to Vito, letting him know that you had arrived. You waited in the car until he came out to get you. You noticed that Riggs had decided to come out as well. You only now notice the size difference between him and Vito. The man was massive. PR agent and personal body guard? You were set for life. 

Vito opened the door for you and helped you get out of the car. The moment you were two feet on the concrete, the flashes of the cameras started going off. You tried your best to smile, but it was difficult when you were being blinded by the lights. You mentally laughed at yourself at the Weekend joke. Thankfully, no one grabbed you or anything. It was probably because Riggs had placed his hand on your back and carefully led you inside. No one would get passed that man. 

The ambiance of the restaurant was a stark contrast to that of outside. The lights were dim and there was a live orchestra in the corner. Vito was able to catch up to you before you got to the table. 

“Quite a show that was,” you mentioned as you spotted Christian at a table in the corner. 

“Well, you are trending everywhere on social media kid,” Vito replied as Christian stood up to greet you. 

“Nice to see you again sir,” you said as you shook his hand. 

“And you as well kid. That was sure some entrance.” You let out a small laugh. 

“All I did was walk it. I think I might be blind for the rest of the night. I can still see all the flashes.” A woman, who you recognized as Geri, let out a laugh. You turned to her. 

You obviously wanted to shake her hands for the rest of your life. It wasn’t every day you got to meet Ginger Spice. But you forewent all of that, and settled on a light hug. “It’s an honor to meet you ma’am. I asked Vito if I could have brought something for you to sign, but he said I probably shouldn’t.” You heard a smack of a hand against a forehead. You continued, “But now seeing you in person, I should have brought my entire CD set.” 

Geri and Christian both laughed out loud at your statement. Geri was able to calm you down as she promised that the next time she attended a race, you could bring something. You were able to sit next to her at the table. 

You were definitely fan-girling the entire time. But who cared. Geri was a nice person to keep a conversation with. You were relieved to see some familiar faces already at the table. Mitch was seated across from you with Lacy at her right. Riggs had sat next to his wife while Vito found a seat on the other side of you. The rest of the table was left empty for Max, Checo, and whoever they were going to bring. 

One waiter came to the table and asked for everyone’s drink orders. Because you were only 20 and the drinking age in America is 21, you asked for a water. 

Vito had joked around with the waiter, “Can you bring that in a sippy cup for her? She tends to spill.” A slap to the arm had him shut up as the rest of the table fell into small laughs. 

You argued back, “It’s not my fault that you’re so old. Did you remember to drink your prune juice this morning? I know how grumpy you get if you don’t.” You flashed a wicked smile at him as you took a sip of your drink. 

The adults started to laugh a bit harder. 

The laughter only died down when Christian suddenly stood up and rounded the table. Your eyes followed him and landed on two figures. Your heart picked up as you came to the conclusion that they were Checo and Max. You didn’t know what to do. Should you stand to greet them? Or would that be weird? 

You got your answer when they both just decided to sit down. However, Max was seated directly across from you. There was nowhere for you to hide from his sight. As he got situated, you quickly looked down at your dress and pretended to wipe something from the fabric. But, when you looked up, you made direct eye contact with him. Not wanting to wait for him to do something and come off as rude, you leaned a bit forward and put out your hand. 

“Uh, it’s nice to meet you,” you shyly said as he took your hand in his to return the gesture. 

His accent was a little heavy, “Nice to meet you too. It’s Y/n right?” 

“Yes sir,” you responded, almost a little too quickly. But Max had a questioning look before huffing and waving his hands. 

“There’s no need for that, kid.” He picked up his drink and took a sip. “You shouldn’t be much younger than me, no?” 

“Uh, six years younger,” you muttered. A choked sound came from across the table, which got everyone’s attention. Your cheeks heated as everyone looked at the two of you. 

“Is everything all right Max?” Christian asked, a look of concern on his face. 

Max points at you, “Where’d you find this – this..” you thought he was about to insult you. You winced at the thought. Except he finally finished sputtering, “literal child. She called me sir.” He all but whined the last sentence. 

Christian spoke up, “Well that child beat your 7 year time record for the practice track.” He took a sip of his drink as everyone’s eyes fell on you. 

“Uh, I didn’t mean to?” You wanted to die, but you continued, “I think I could have done better but there’s was something off on Turn five, but we said it was the…”

“Balance,” Max finished your sentence, nodding his head. “I’ve been trying to tell them to fix that.” 

You shrugged, “It wasn’t bad though.” 

“Did you slow down on the curve?” 

“Yep, and accelerated coming out of the apex.” Max gave you a giant smile. Cars and racing he could talk about.

“How did you feel about the steering?” he questioned, hands coming above the table. You soon found yourself doing that as well. 

“Eh, it was ok, but it was a bit understeery?” you didn’t want to go insulting his car, but you had a preference. 

“Oh my gosh, I know. I had that problem the entire season.”   

Everyone around you two knew that the moment the hands went above the table and were being flung everywhere, there was no stopping the two of you. They practically had to tell you both to shut up so that the table could start talking of other things and order the food. Your cheeks heated up when they pointed out your rambling. 

“Sorry,” you muttered, going back to your drink. 

“It’s fine kid. I’ve had to deal with Max for years. I think I can deal with it again,” Christian said as the waiters brought out the food. The Dutchman across from you rolled his eyes at the statement, which caused you to laugh. 

He was actually a joy to talk to. You were able to finally greet Checo a little bit into the actual dinner. You didn’t know whether to say you were sorry he was retiring or to congratulate him. So you kind of did both. 

Oh well. 

Throughout the meal, discussions of next season came up along with the car. Christian was pleased to know that the both of you preferred an oversteer car. Yes, the car would still be more towards Max’s preferences, but you could work with it. You knew that you would be second driver. But you honestly didn’t care. 

“I know how to play the teammate. I’m not looking for a championship right now. I’m just glad to be here,” you told Max and Christian. “Of course, I’m going to fight for a win, because that’s what I know to do. But I’m not going to block if Max is going to be faster than me.” 

The two men nodded, thankful for a person like you. There weren’t many people who would willingly give up wanting to be first driver. But you understood this. 

As long as Max Verstappen was in a Red Bull, he will be driver number one. The rest of the dinner went smoothly. As everyone was standing to leave, Christian announced that everyone was welcome to join them at a club. All the adults seemed to cheer as if they forgot that you technically couldn’t go. 

You didn’t mean to show disappointment, but Max picked up on it. The math was mathing as he put two and two together. 

“I think I’m going to skip out tonight. Not really feeling it.” His accent was heavy as he put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. 

You and Max somehow found yourself at the back of the group. He leaned down and semi-whispered to you. 

“Do you want to go get some ice cream?” 

You face must have lit up as he mirrored you with a smile. Max offered to drive you to the place. You quickly said goodbye to Vito, before promising that you’d text him when you got back to the hotel. You followed behind Max, trying to keep up with his long strides. The heels and long dress were making it difficult, but you managed.

When you got to his car, he popped the door open for you because you weren’t able to figure out the handle. You weren’t used to the expensive super-cars. Yes, the cars you drove were nice, but not millions of dollars nice. 

“You can play some music if you’d like to,” Max mentioned as he began to drive out of the parking garage. 

“Famous last words Max,” you said as you scrolled through your playlist. A familiar 33 caught you attention. You bit your lip trying not to smile. “I really like the thought and meaning behind this one. Super nice vibes. Very rememberable.” 

“Oh? Well then play it.” 

You snorted at his innocence. The moment the familiar beats came on, he looked at you with a face of betrayal. 

“You did not.” 

“I did too. It’s a very catchy tune Max.” He reached out and pressed the off button. 

“I’m revoking your DJ privileges.” Now it was your turn to look at him with a face of betrayal. 

“You did not.”  

“I did too. If you can’t play something nice, you won’t play anything at all.” 

“What would you play? Some oldie from 1953?” 

He snorted before putting his eyes back on the road. “I am not that old.” 

“Sure.” 

“We’re in the same generation Y/n.”

You argued back, “You’re on the fine line of millennial and gen z. You probably post memes on Facebook like an old lady.” 

The two of you fell in silence, before you busted out laughing. Max started to wheeze, which made you laugh even harder and clap your hands like a seal. By the end of the drive, you were wiping tears from your eyes. 

A bright ice cream cone lit up the sky at the car approached the store. You were able to get out of the car since the handle was much easier to figure out than the outside one. Max held the door of the shop for you and waited. He got curious when you didn’t directly come in. 

He found his answer when he saw you kneel next to a cat to pet it. He was surprised that it let you touch it. After you were done, you stood up and flashed a sheepish smile at him, muttering an apology for keeping him waiting. 

“I just love cats,” you sighed, looking at the kitty outside with heart eyes. 

Max fished his phone from his pocket. He quickly put in the password. His fingers quickly found the giant album just for his cats on the photos app. He handed his phone to you. 

“This is Jimmy and this is Sassy. What do you want and I’ll get it for you. You can keep looking.” You barely muttered a response, too enthralled with the gorgeous creatures on the screen. Max chucked as he went to get the ice cream. 

You were too busy swiping through all of the pictures. They were both so pretty. Max had to nudge you to hand you your cone. 

“Thank you for letting me see these,” you traded the phone for the cone. 

“No problem. If you ever find yourself in Monaco, you can come over to see them.” Your eyes seemed to twinkle at the thought of meeting his cats. “Do you have any?” 

You seemed to deflate at the topic of you being cat-less. “No, I’m away most of the year and I live by myself. My apartment is in Nice, but I think I’m going to move somewhere else.” 

Max’s eyebrows creased, “Does your family not live close?” 

You deflated even more. “No. To be honest, I don’t talk to my family. Like ever. I’m an only child as well so no siblings.” You kind of just shut up after that. Max felt awful. He knows that you probably know a lot about him. But he never thought to look up anything about you. 

He wanted to talk, but you continued, “But it’s fine. Racing is my life and takes up 100% of my time.” Max knew that it wasn’t fine. Racing was his life too, but he had friends and family to keep him company. He had Kelly and P, Christian, Lando, (maybe) Charles. He could try to convince you to find a small apartment in Monaco so he could keep an eye on you. 

He takes a moment to really see you. Right now, you weren’t a piece of art of you were almost face deep in your ice cream. This made you look younger than you were. And that hurt Max’s heart. His dad might be awful, but he still talked to him. 

He must have zone out because your talking brought him out of it. 

“Are you excited to race in Vegas?” you ice cream was almost gone.

Max shrugged, “It’s going to be difficult, since it’s cold. I’m worried about the grip of the tires.” 

You thought for a moment, “Well, if you get far enough ahead, you could always swerve to warm them up further. I know that would cut down on speed, but you’d be able to take the corners a bit better.” 

“How are you feeling about free practice one tomorrow.” Your eyes were now lit up once again, and Max is glad to see you perked up. 

“I am so excited. Did you hear that they’re going to do the walk up announcements again?” Max shook his head, (he actually did but wanted to hear you explain). “Well, they’re doing it and I have the perfect song, if I get announced.” You pouted. “Do ‘reserve drivers’ get announced?” 

“I don’t know. But I will make sure that you get one.” He put a hand on you shoulder. 

You squealed and thanked him. “I am a bit nervous about the lap times though.” 

Max suddenly hunched as to tell you a secret. “What you have to do is before you go into the flying lap, heat your tires to the max.” 

“Max, max, max, super max.” He deadpanned. “Sorry, continue.” 

“You have to push the throttle a couple of times right before you go to get the wheels spinning. The more they spin, the more friction they’ll have on the track, and the more they will heat.” (a.n. guys I don’t know if this is correct. I’m a writing major not engineering. But, more friction, more heat – I took one physics class so call me professor). 

“Aaahhhhh,” you had a far out look, contemplating the precious information you’ve been given. You wanted to talk about something other than racing. “How’s your family?” 

It was now Max’s turn for his eyes to light up. He brought out his cellphone again to show you more pictures. Some were of him and Kelly. Others of him and P. It was when he got to the drivers, you started to panic. 

“Do you think they’ll like me?” you mutter, suddenly finding you dress more interesting. Max looked at you with a confused face. 

“Kid, I’ve known you for,” he looked at his watch, “three hours now and I think I want you as my teammate for the rest of my carrier. Don’t worry, they will love you.” 

You let out a sigh of relief. 

“I just, don’t want to make a fool out of myself.” 

“You won’t, kid. You won’t.” 

After the topic passed, and Max finally finished his mess of the remainders of his ice cream, the two of you made you way back to his car. He made sure that you had texted Vito that you were back at the hotel when he dropped you off. Thankfully, his hotel wasn’t that far away. 

“Good night Max. I will see you tomorrow teammate.” You winked. 

“See you tomorrow, teammate.” You started to walk away before you remembered something. 

You rushed back over to the car and knocked on the window. Max quickly rolled it down and leaned over the dash. “Is something wrong?” 

“Which song are you picking? For the announcements? Because I think you should totally go with Max 33 or Super Max, or to annoy more people, the Dutch anthem.” 

Max only chuckled and rolled the window up. Not giving you an answer. He could see you in the mirror flailing your arms as he left. He would see you tomorrow. 

The first thing Max did when he got to his hotel was get changed. After that, he needed to make a quick phone call. 

He clicked on the contact and waited for the person to pick up. The phone didn’t even ring twice before the sound of the call being accepted filled the quiet room. 

Kelly’s face filled the tiny screen. 

She was the first one to speak, “Hi baby.” Max gave her a sleepy smile. “How was dinner.” 

“Oh it was great. I got to meet the rookie.” Kelly leaned her head on her hand. 

“How did it go?” 

“It was great Kels. I see myself so much in this kid.” 

“Is that a good thing?” 

“Yep. How do you think Penelope will feel about getting a sister? I’m already looking at how to adopt a teenager.” 

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @lilypadlover

[dreamsinmoonlight]

May I lay my head on Adams lap?

(I should be asleep and DEFINITELY should do the three other asks but I like me some stupid fluff with my stupid man so sure, have this before I fall unconscious because it's like almost midnight here)

Adam let out a snort as you plopped down next to him and opened his mouth to say something he would swear was witty or cool, because he was Adam the Dick Master and he was entirely both of those things. But his train of thought was derailed most effectively as you moved sideways and he suddenly found your head resting in his lap.

He was, for once in existence, speechless and just stared at you for a good few moments with wide eyes, as if trying to figure out what was going on. Finally, and with far more deliberation than that brain of his was really normally capable of, he spoke carefully, "Babe? You alright?"

"Shut up and be my pillow," you mumbled, your eyes closed. God he could be noisy and you just wanted to rest.

God knew when He made Adam He'd made the comfiest living pillow. The robe was a nice plus, it was soft and silky, but honestly you were usually just as happy to just lay your head straight into those squishy thighs. He wasn't bony in any way whatsoever, a plus in your book, and he was usually pretty warm on top of that. All together 10/10, would recommend as a cushion if you happened to have a long day or just wanted a good nap.

You didn't need to look up to know he was pouting; he hated it when you told him to shut up but after multiple discussions about the fact you meant it with love and not contempt, he had eventually gotten that. But he still pouted, because he was still Adam. You listened to him grumble and you thought up caught some choice words but whatever they were were pointless and quickly lost.

He started playing with your hair after all and that wasn't playing fair. Your head in your favorite lap, your idiot favorite angel playing with your hair? It was a combination you were absolutely powerless against and he knew it damnit. That was probably the point, his little revenge against you.

"Fine fine, I'll be your pillow, bitch, but you better be ready for payback later." That wasn't much of a threat; Adam's idea of "payback" when it came to you usually came down to doing the things God put him on Earth to do in the first place.

You mumbled but couldn't do much more than that. It was just too much. You nodded off and Heaven's most annoying angel watched you with a smile that could only be described as "how the hell did Adam learn to look soft".

Answer: that's what being wanted and loved does to someone. Yes even him.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

The Only Place That I Call Home - No Love Love Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: The real tragedy in No Love Lost is The Boys having to watch Her and Ben pretend they're capable of being normal about each other. Title from Heartlines by Florence and the Machine.

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary/Warnings: It's team game night, and everyone is sick of you and Ben's shit. Takes place in Chapter 24. Usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, pre-established relationship, smut (blowjob, some fingering, p in v sex)

“We’re not playing codenames,” MM snapped. “The ban is fucking permanent, so drop it.”

“It’s a stupid ban,” She muttered, glaring at Ben’s hand as she turned it over between her fingers. It was hard to focus when She touched him like that. So natural and thoughtless, like he’s only an extension of her. He might be. She was perfect, and Ben would gladly just be a fucking extension of her. There wouldn’t be another goddamn idiot pussy he’d rather just be a weapon or tool of. “You’re just a sore loser-“

“We ain’t sore losers, Love,” Butcher snapped. “We’re just bloody sick of you always winning. Because you fuckin cheat.”

Ben almost snorted at the look of indigence on Her beautiful face. It was adorable, how She looked so genuinely offended by the very idea that she’d ever cheat, when they both knew that she cheated at almost every goddamn game they played with the team. Codenames is just the only one everyone else has caught.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She stuck her chin up at Butcher, and it would be regal if she wasn’t full of such fucking bullshit. “I’ve never cheated in my life, Butcher, and I’m wounded you’d think that low of me.“

“I’ve thought a lot fuckin lower,” Butcher drawled Her name, and she scowled. “And you are cheatin. Because that cunt,” Butcher nodded to Ben. “Always helps you.”

Her hand folded fully over Ben’s as she held Butcher’s glare. “Last time we were on different teams-“

“And that motherfucker sabotaged everyone for you,” MM grunted. “No fucking codenames.”

Her sharp eyes turned to Ben. Are you going to fucking defend our honor.

You don’t have honor, Sunshine. He grinned, kissing the top of Her head. And we do cheat. All the fucking time.

I don’t make you cheat-

My loyalty is to you. He shrugged. Not whatever pussies I get put on a stupid fucking team with. And you never complain-

Because I like winning, Benjamin, and-

You don’t have any fucking honor.

Fuck you.

At the dinner table? In front of everyone? He raised his eyebrows, smirking down at her pretty, flushed face. That’s fucking disgusting-

I hate you.

No you don’t. Ben smirks, pulling her closer to his side. You love me.

I do, She sighed, whacking his arm before dropping her head on his shoulder. You’re such a fucking asshole, but I do.

“You twats want to clue us into your secret bloody brain sexting-“

“No.” She shot Butcher a glare, and he was smart enough to just wink back. “If it’s not codenames, what are we doing.”

“We could do Monopoly-“ 

Annie shook her head, cutting Hughie off. “Butcher always wins Monopoly, and he’s always a smug ass about it after.”

“It ain’t my fault I got killer business instinct-“

“I think you’re just a heartless dick,” Annie shrugged. “Only psychos are good at Monopoly-“

“You’re just real fuckin salty, Starlight, cause you hate admittin I’m good at somethin-“

“Oh, shut up-“

“What about Clue?” Frenchie cut off Annie this time, flinching slightly at her glare. “My apologies Annie, but I would like to begin with a game before it becomes midnight-“

“No Clue,” MM grumbled. “Those two cheat with that one as well.”

Ben decided not to punch MM, because they did in fact cheat at Clue, and Her annoyed pout made him want to pick her up and suck on her lips until she moaned, and they did end up fucking at the dinner table.

Ryan raised his hand slightly. “Could we, um, could we do Uno? I like Uno.”

The table fell silent, nobody willing to point out that She and Ben would almost certainly be cheating at Uno when Ryan looked so fucking hopeful, and Her glare made it pretty damn obvious she’d kill anyone who shot the idea down.

“I can do Uno,” Hughie mumbled, and when everyone gave small nods of agreement he rose up, going to retrieve the game from wherever the fuck they kept it.

Ben felt a tug on his arm, and looked down to find Her very pointedly not looking at him, attention focused on Frenchie, explaining Uno to Kimiko.

What.

Are we cheating.

He coughed, failing to cover his laugh as Annie gave him an odd look. No fucking honor, darling-

Shut up. I had a fun idea, but if you’re going to be a dick-

Ben tangled Her fingers between his, muttering Her name between their heads. If you want to cheat and win, I don’t give a fuck about it-

I want to win. She glanced up at him. But I can win at multiple things.

Ben frowned. What the fuck are you talking about.

No cheating, a smile played on her pretty lips, and Ben wanted to trace them with his hands and mouth and cock. She was so fucking beautiful, it was an issue to his attention as she continued. Because we’re competing against each other.

Why the damn hell would we do that.

Because whoever wins gets to be in charge of sex tonight.

Christ, he fucking loved Her. You sure you want that, Sunshine? Ben leaned down, bumping his nose with Hers, smirking as her heart jumped slightly. Because I’ll fucking kick your ass, my love. And you won’t get off easy, he nipped at her lower lip, and her mouth fell open. When I win.

If you win.

He chuckled. Brat.

Cunt. You in, or are you too much of a fucking pussy-

Ben tangled his hand in Her hair, pulling her up into a deep kiss. I’m in. Get ready to fucking lose.

Take your own advice, Pretty Boy. She pulled back with a wide smile, and Ben had never seen anything better. I’m going to make you regret being born.

That wasn’t fucking possible. Ben didn’t think he’d ever regret a thing again, when whatever he’d done before had gotten him here. Feeling all Her love for him in every corner of the world, with her perfect, sharp, bright eyes on his and her body fitting like a missing half against his.

She was real fucking serious about winning—she’d stood up, moving to sit beside Ryan across the table so Ben couldn’t see her cards—and it was going to make it so much more satisfying when Ben emerged victorious. He was already lining out what he wanted to do—maybe some edging, make her moan and beg and squirm under him as he teased her—but he was adaptable. If they got home and he realized she was already fucking dripping through her underwear, he’d probably just fuck Her. But he had to win first.

They’d had to combine two Uno decks—nine people was apparently too much for one fucking pussy deck to handle—and it took Ben about fifteen seconds after Frenchie dealt to realize that he couldn’t fucking remember how to play Uno. And when he looked up at the casual, sharp amusement on Her face, he realized She’d fucking expected that.

You cheated.

We’re not cheating, Benjamin. We agreed on that-

I didn’t fucking say we, I said you.

I don’t know what you’re implying. She glanced up from her cards with almost fucking sparkling eyes, and Ben felt like someone had dropped a building on him. Actually, he’d had a building dropped on him. This was a whole lot fucking better, because it was made of all her love and adoration and perfect, clever brain and smart fucking mouth. Are you getting worried, Pretty Boy? Want to call it off?

Never in a million goddamn years. Want to hear how I’m going to fuck you when I win?

She hummed, looking back to her cards. I think that’s foul play.

This whole thing is foul fucking play. Distracting Her with dirty talk was also the only fucking chance Ben had to win, but she didn’t need to know that. I’m going to finger you first, darling. See if we can get three fingers at the start this time, if I make you wet enough. Her heartbeat picked up, her eyes becoming slightly glazed, and Ben pushed on. You might already be fucking wet enough, you’re always so fucking wet for me, but I’d like to get you so wet you fucking squirt all over me. Make you fucking scream-

Ben. She shot him a half-hearted glare. Shut it. Stop cheating.

You started it.

She wrinkled Her perfect nose at him. Fuck you.

I will. With three fingers, then my tongue, then my cock, until you’re a beautiful, wrecked mess-

A crumpled up napkin hit him in the face, and when Ben glowered at Her, she just shrugged. I told you to shut it.

Ben didn’t shut it. By the time the game was halfway done, he’d gotten hit in the face with five more napkins, a plastic spoon, and a cup that still had some fucking water in it. But he was still fucking losing. By a lot. Half the damn deck was in his hand, She was down to two cards, and there was no actual warning in Her glares or distress trading between their bodies, so Ben kept telling her every single filthy thought that crossed his mind.

And he still fucking lost. Kimiko—despite only learning the game twenty minutes ago—won first, but everyone groaned to keep going for second place. When Ryan won soon after that, it became about third. Ben was hardly able to hold his cards in his hands—everyone had a fucking vendetta against him, and he’d been hit with so many plus two cards it had to be some sort of targeted fucking play they’d all agreed on behind his back—and the game was between Her and MM.

She won, with an overdramatic slam of a green five on the pile, and a wide grin around the table. And when Her eyes met Ben’s, already blown out and thirsty, he felt his dick twitch in his pants.

“If you losers will excuse me,” She stood up, still holding Ben’s gaze. “I’ve had to shit for the last fifteen minutes.”

MM’s face twisted in disgust. “You could’ve just fucking left, you don’t need to tell us-“

“Sorry,” She shrugged, clearly not fucking meaning it. “If you wanted not to hear about my bowel movements, you shouldn’t have shot yourself in the foot by changing it to green.” 

As She turned away from the table, walking off to the dining hall bathrooms, her voice rang in Ben’s head. Give it five minutes, then follow me.

He gave it three. They were now going for fourth, nobody seemed to think he was a serious contender for the title, and Ryan eagerly volunteered to play for him, so with a grumbled thanks and half-run to the bathroom, Ben followed Her.

She was waiting for him, arms crossed as She leaned against the wall. “That was not five minutes-“

Ben locked the door behind him, and slammed his mouth onto Hers with a groan, swallowing every single moan and pulling her half off the ground as he touched Her fucking everywhere.

“Ben-“

“So fucking smart,” he muttered, dropping his head to her neck and sucking on that one spot that made her like putty in his hands. “You’re such a fucking brat, Sunshine-“

“And I won,” Her voice was breathless, but still smug. “So I’m in charge, Benjamin-“

He chuckled Her name against her skin, moving one hand under her shirt, palming at her breast. “We both know this ends with me fucking you, darling, so just damn say how you want it-“

She pushed him off—her hands heated enough to grab Ben’s attention, but not to burn him—and dropped to her knees, smirking up at him as she ran a hand up his thigh. “I’m in charge. And I want to suck your dick. Can I please-“

Ben had never moved fucking faster. Belt off, pants down, freeing his cock to press against Her pretty, parted, slightly swollen lips. Even if she hadn’t won that stupid bet, he’d never fucking turn Her down for this. Not when she was smiling up at him under her lashes, playing with his balls as she swirled her tongue over the head of him, teeth scraping as she squeezed him and he bucked forward slightly.

He growled Her name, fighting every single instinct in his body to just pick her up and fuck Her. Push himself into her perfect pussy, make her breathing as heavy and ragged as his was. Cover himself in the wetness he could see dripping onto the bathroom floor, her pants having been tossed off to the side so she could fucking finger herself. “If you don’t move-“

She leaned back, giving him a fake pout that made his cock jump in her hands. “No.”

“Christ, woman-“

She started to stroke him, gentle and almost fucking painful with how goddamn slow it was, and he groaned.

“I won, Ben. And I want you to fuck my face,” He hissed through his teeth as She licked the underside of his cock. “But if you’re going to be an ass-“

“You won,” he grunted, gripping the sink with one hand and tilting her head back with the other. “You fucking won, and I’ll fuck your face any goddamn day-“

She nodded, grinning. “When I tell you, pull out.”

“What-“

“Trust me.”

He nodded slowly, and when Her mouth fell open, Ben pushed himself down her throat, almost fucking moaning at how good she felt. Fucking sinful, Her tongue swirling around him, Her pretty eyes fluttering as he bumped the back of Her throat. He was pretty sure that he could find release just like this. Watching Her below him, her cheeks hollowed out and one of Her hands playing with herself as she held his gaze. She was fucking threat to Ben’s health, with how goddamn perfect she was. With a little drool escaping her lips as Ben’s cock rested between them, a hand steadying herself against his thigh, grinding onto the fucking floor-

That’s what got Ben to move. She was squirming against her own touch, and he could fucking smell how wet she was, hear her whimpers around his dick when his hips rutted slightly, and he wasn’t allowed to take care of Her until after this. So he tangled his hand in Her hair, tugging her almost fully of of him before slamming her back down, bucking his hips before repeating it over and over until She was moaning, pretty eyes rolling back in her head and her lips perfectly fucking puffed.

He was close. She’d started to suck on him when he hit the back of her throat, and lick the tip of his cock when he pulled back, and Ben could feel the coil in his gut growing tight and hot, and fuck She was so perfect and beautiful and he felt goddamn high-

He hissed Her name as her nose bumped his lower stomach, her high and desperate whine making him rut up into her. “Christ, you’re so fucking good. Gonna fucking paint your perfect fucking body in me, darling, fucking love you, look so fucking beautiful with your pretty fucking mouth stuffed with my cock-“

Her nails began to sink into Ben’s skin, Her hips rolling against her own touch. Ben had never been fucking jealous of someone actively sucking him off, but god fucking dammit it should be him touching Her. She should be squirming under Ben’s touch, not having to fucking drip all over the bathroom floor. Everything was fading into a daze of Her, bright and soft and so fucking full of love it made Ben a little insane, and he was so fucking close to cumming right in her fucking vice of a mouth-

Out. Her voice was breathless in Ben’s head, and his hand loosened on her head before he’d even fully registered the words.

“What-“

She surged upwards, grabbing Ben’s face and pulling it down to hers, and he let every fucking instinct of Her, Her, Her take over. Spinning them around, slamming her into the wall as one hand dropped down, pinching and flick at her clit until she became putty in his arms, running one finger between the lips of her pussy, teasing at her opening but never pushing in-

“Ben-“ She gasped as he dropped his mouth to her neck, biting that one spot as he pressed his thumb around her clit, rubbing slow circles everywhere around it. “Fuck-“

“So fucking good, Sunshine-“

Ben’s words were cut off with a strangled groan as her hand wrapped back around his cock, pumping him so fast he was pretty goddamn sure it might make him pass out.

“Inside,” She whispered, lips brushing against Ben’s ear as his arms tightened around her. “Want you to cum inside-“

Ben dropped one hand to Her thighs, pushing them open without a further fucking question and ramming himself into her with a half shout of pleasure. He felt himself bottom out, rolling his hips just enough to angle himself against that deep part of her that always made her scream, and when She came—her moans and shouts of his name in his ear, her pussy contracting around him, and her hands scratching at his back—Ben cracked the wall as he slammed up into Her, relief crashing through him.

“So fucking tight, darling.” He growled against her skin, and she whimpered. “Good girl, taking me so fucking well. Fucking love you-“

Someone slammed their fist against the door, and they both froze.

“We can all hear you horny cunts humpin like bloody rabbits! Keep it in your fuckin pants!” Butcher shouted through the walls, hitting the door one last time.

“Either we cheat or we fuck,” Ben drawled back, letting Her bury her beautiful, flushed face in his chest. “So let us cheat, or buy some goddamn earplugs.”

“You could just not fuck,” MM yelled, sounding a little further away. “Not fucking is an option-“

Ben rolled his eyes, and turned his attention back where it belonged. With Her.

“If we run,” he muttered, forcing himself to pull out of Her and ignore the way he was already half-hard again from the sight of his cum, dribbling down her thighs. “We can get you back to the apartment, and keep fucking without any goddamn interruptions.”

“I, um,” She leaned against him as they dressed, and Ben realized there was a slight wobble to her knees. He’d fucking done that. “I don’t want to run-“

He scooped her up into his arms with a smirk and a kiss to her brow. “Hold on.”

“Wait,” She looped her arms over his neck, playing with his hair as she studied his face. “I’m still in charge. When we get home.”

Ben snorted, hauling her further up his chest to mutter against Her lips. “Tonight you’re in charge, Sunshine. But next time, I’m fucking winning, and you’re going to cum so many times you can’t walk for a goddamn week.”

She swallowed, mouth parting, and Ben pushed his tongue between her lips, sucking on the lower one in a silent promise.

“And if I win again-“

“You won’t.” Ben pulled back, giving her a wink. “Because we’re going to do a team game, and I’m going to take Ryan. And you’ll lose for him on fucking purpose.”

She scowled. “Cunt.”

“Brat.” Ben grinned at Her, and her pretty lips—still fucking swollen from his cock—pulled into a smile as pure, raw fucking joy painted Her feature. “Let’s get you home.”

End Note: I feel like the Boys would have the most foul Jackbox night. Things would be said that should've never been said in the first place, and will never be said again. She and Ben would make a voting block. MM would quit when his smart joke lost to Frenchie writing "massive balls" for the seventh time in quiplash. Someone would break the TV.

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[soulofapatrick]

Midnight Confessions - Liam Dunbar x Female Reader

Summary: Liam can't sleep so comes to your room and ends up admitting he has feelings for you

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: None

Y/N’s POV

I’m awoken by a soft rustling, the sound of someone fidgeting nearby and the soft click of my bedroom door. It would be barely audible to the naked ear but being a werecoyote I hear it as clear as day. My eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dimness of the room. In the half-light, I make out a familiar figure slipping into my room—Liam. 

“Lili?” I murmur, sitting up, voice hoarse with sleep. 

He turns, his eyes widening slightly in surprise, “Oh, hey,” he greets, his voice low and rough with an air of apology, “Sorry, did I wake you?” 

I just shake my head, pretending a false wakefulness, though the little skip of my heart likely gives away my lie, “No, I was already awake.” I lie, offering him a comforting smile, “What’s wrong, Li?” 

Liam hesitates, his usually confident demeanour replaced by an uncharacteristic vulnerability, “I… I can’t sleep.” He admits, his voice filled with frustration, “It’s like my brain won’t shut off.” As Liam edges closer, I catch the hint of embarrassment swirling in the air, the subtle shift in his scent betraying his unease. He's never been one to show vulnerability easily, and the faint aroma of it mixing with the usual notes of his scent makes his discomfort palpable.

Without a second thought I’m shuffling closer to the wall and living the duvet, patting the now free space besides me, “Come here,” I offer, used to having any of the pack in my bed at all hours of the day. Being the Pack Mum they all come to me when they can’t sleep, can’t work anything out or just need someone to be with. This is no different, so I don’t hesitate. 

Liam hesitates though, he’s never been one to come to me, always being one to bottle up his emotions and have them all come out in bursts of anger. His IED. His gaze flickers between me and the bed as if fighting some inner turmoil before his shoulders slump and he’s shuffling over to the bed. 

He eases onto the bed, tentative as if unsure of the unspoken rules governing such intimate moments. I give him the space to settles sensing his discomfort lingering in the air like a fragile thread. So, with a silent invitation, I was my arm around his waist, pulling him closer, offering a sense of security in the embrace. His head finds a resting place on my arm, and I gently pull him closer, molding our bodies together, his back against my chest. 

The warmth of his body against mine, the rise and fall of his breaths in sync with mine—it’s a quiet intimacy, a silent understanding that transcends words. My hold on him is gentle yet firm, a reassurance that he’s not alone in this moment of vulnerability. 

His muscles tense at first, the unfamiliarity of this closeness evident, but gradually, with each passing moment, he relaxes into the embrace. I feel the weight of his exhaustion, the weariness of carrying the burdensome thoughts and emotions alone. We lay there in the stillness, a fragile peace enveloping us as I wait for him to speak. My heartbeat, a steady rhythm against his back, serves as a comfort for him enough to begin speaking quietly. 

Liam’s voice is a mere whisper against the quiet backdrop of the night, almost hesitant to disturb the tranquility we’ve found. “I never… I never do this,” he admits, his words soft and raw with vulnerability, “I don’t… I don’t let people in.” His confession echoes in the space between us, heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. I tighten my embrace ever so slightly, a wordless encouragement for him to continue, to share the burden he’s carried in solitude for so long, “I’ve always kept everyone at arms length,” He murmurs, the words weighed down the years of self-imposed isolation, “But… there’s someone I really like.” 

His confession lingers, pregnant with unspoken truths. My heart quickens, despite myself, as I’ve honestly liked Liam as long as I’ve known him after Scott turned him into a werewolf.  His unwavering determination drew me in at first, he possesses an unyielding resilience, facing adversities head on, regardless of the trials fate throws his way. His willingness to confront challenges, to persevere in the face of danger, ignites an admiration with me. 

There’s an inherent goodness in Liam—a genuine kindness that permeates every action and word. Despite the turmoil within him, he exudes compassion, extending a helping hand without hesitation. His caring nature extends not just to the pack, but to everyone around him. Witnessing this innate warmth and empathy, I find myself drawn to his selfless heart.

Liam shifts in my embrace, his movements gentle yet deliberate, turning to face me in the subdued light of the room. His features, usually framed by determination or a boyish enthusiasm, now carry a vulnerability that renders him achingly human. 

His electric blue eyes, etched with complexities of emotion, meet mine, shimmering with a blend of uncertainty and an unspoken depth that captivates me. They hold a silent plea, a longing for understanding, yet also harbouring a hint of apprehension about the confession he’s laid bare. 

The soft light casts a delicate glow upon his features, accentuating the curve of his jawline. His tousled hair, kissed by the dimness of the room, frames his face in a way that makes my heart skip a beat. It’s a vulnerability in his gaze, the rawness in his expression that draws me in. Every line, every nuance of his face tells a story—one of resilience, of battles fought, and a heart brimming with unspoken desires. And in that moment, with him facing me, vulnerability and sincere it takes every ounce of self-restraint not to close the distance between us. 

The air crackles with an unspoken tension, a palpable energy that hangs between our breaths, pregnant with the weight of unspoken confessions. His proximity feels like a magnetic pull, an irresistible force urging me closer. 

His lips, parted as if ready to voice more, hover tantalising close, and my pulse quickens at the proximity. The temptation to bridge the gap between us—to taste the unspoken words on his lips—is almost overpowering. His cerulean eyes, shimmering with a tempest of emotions, flicker downwards for the briefest of moments, tracing the curve of my lips before reconnecting with mine. There’s a silent acknowledgement in that fleeting gaze that it’s me. I’m the someone he’s been thinking about and my heart quickens. 

In a heartbeat, his hand moves, a tender caress tracing the contours of my cheek, the touch feather-light yet electric against my skin. His fingertips, warm and gentle, send a shiver down my spine, igniting a flutter in my chest. It’s a gesture so achingly tender, filled with an unspoken longing and a depth of emotion that words couldn’t convey. The weight of his touch, the unspoken invitation in his eyes, they weave an intricate tapestry of desire and restraint, of longing and apprehension. 

For a suspended moment, we exist in this delicate dance, an unspoken understanding passing between us, as if a silent agreement binds our hearts in this tender, charged space. His thumb brushes lightly against the corner of my lips, an intimate gesture that ignites a cascade of sensations within me. I’m captured in the intensity of his gaze, drowning in the unspoken desires that shimmer beneath the surface. 

The charged atmosphere crackles as Liam inches closer, our breaths mingling in a symphony of shared anticipation. Every move, every beat of our hearts, seems synchronised in this suspended moment, an unspoken agreement guiding our silent exchange. 

He draws nearer, an almost imperceptible movement, until the space between us narrows to mere inches. The magnetic pull between our bodies intensifies, practically pressing chest to chest, our closeness igniting a firestorm of emotions within. 

His touch is a whisper against my skin, a delicate dance that sets my sense ablaze. And in that fragile interlude, his hand guides my head, a tender urging that sends a thrill down my spine. Our gazes lock, the depth of his blue eyes holding a storm of emotions—hesitation, nervousness, and an undeniable longing. 

As if testing the waters of an uncharted sea, he leans in, a hesitant yet determined motion that bridges the final gap. Our lips meet in a hesitant, nervous collision—a gentle brush that sparks a conflagration of emotions. It’s a kiss born from the depth of unspoken desires, a tentative exploration of something that has simmered beneath the surface for far too long. The touch of our lips speaks volumes, conveying a yearning and a vulnerability that transcends words. 

The initial brush of our lips, tentative and uncertain, ignites a fervour that neither of us could contain. It’s as though a floodgate has been opened, releasing a torrent of pent-up emotions that surges between us. The kiss deepens, a magnetic pull drawing us into a whirlwind of passion. 

Liam’s lips, once hesitant, now mold against mine with an urgency born of unspoken longing. The kiss takes on a life of its own, a heated exploration that speaks volumes of the emotions feeling this newfound intimacy. 

Our bodies move in sync, a silent symphony of desires entwined. The once gentle touch turns fervent, his hands exploring every curve, every inch they can reach. It’s a dance of fervour and restraint, a silent plea for deeper connection that resonates between each breathless exchange. The world fades away as Liam rolls us over, positioning himself above me. His presence is magnetic, his gaze locking onto mine in an intensity that electrifies the air. The weight of his body against mine sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine, our closeness an inferno of unspoken desires. 

My fingers tangle in his soft locks, pulling him closer, urging the closeness as his lips trail from mine to explore the sensitive skin of my neck. His touch sears through me, every caress leaving an imprint of longing etched into my skin. 

In response, my hands roam, tracing the contours of his muscular chest, feeling that strength beneath the surface. The heat between us intensifies, a collision of passion and unspoken emotions that dance in the air around us. 

Our bodies move in a synchronised dance, each touch, each kiss, an unspoken dialogue of unbridled passion and profound connection. The heat between us amplifies, a whirlwind of emotions and desires swirling around us, encapsulating us in a world of fervour and longing. 

Liam captures my lips again in a passionate kiss that steals my breath away. His fervent embrace, the way he fits against me, feels like an intricate puzzle piece finding its perfect match. It’s a collision of sensations—a tumultuous wave of emotions crashing into each other, drawing us deeper into the abyss of our shared desires. With every stolen breath, every tender exchange, I’m consumed by the intensity of the moment, enveloped in a whirlwind of feelings that leave me craving more. There’s an urgency in the way our lips mold together, an unspoken desire to lose ourselves in this infinite moment. 

As our kisses deepen, I lose myself in the rhythm of our shared passion. Every touch, every movement, resonates with an undeniable longing—an unspoken declaration that I never want this moment to end. In Liam’s embrace, I find a sanctuary where time stands still, where our connection transcends the boundaries of the physical, and whirr the fervour of our shared desire ignites an unquenchable flame within me. 

Eventually, I break the kiss reluctantly, my breaths coming in ragged gasps, feeling the undeniable pull of Liam’s presence lingering between us. “Maybe we should… try and sleep.” I murmur, noticing a flicker of disappointment cross Liam’s features as doubt clouds his expression. 

But before his disappointment settles in, I quickly add, “We have all the time in the world to make out, but maybe not at 3m on a school night.” 

A bashful giggle escapes him, his embarrassment evident as a faint blush tinges his cheeks. He settles back next to me, nestling into the cradle of my arms with a sheepish yet affectionate smile playing on his lips. 

“Yeah, that makes sense.” He concedes, his voice softened by the intimacy of the moment, “Sleep sounds good.” 

The tension from our passionate exchange gradually dissipates into a quiet tranquility. Liam finds a comfortable spot, his head resting against my shoulder, a sense of contentment enveloping us in the soothing embrace of the night. 

As the minutes pass, the weight of our shared emotions lingers in the air, an unspoken promise of deeper conversations yet to come. The steady rhythm of his breathing against my chest becomes a soothing melody, lulling us into a gentle slumber. 

In the quiet of the night, I hold him close, cherishing the intimacy and vulnerability we shared. Our entwined bodies find solace in each other's presence, a silent understanding that this moment, fleeting yet profound, has kindled something unspoken yet unmistakably beautiful between us. I bury my face in his hair and as sleep claims us, I drift into dreams, knowing that whatever awaits in the waking hours, the warmth of Liam's embrace remains a cherished memory.

Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[missmeinyourbones]

ahhh congrats on your milestone leah!! you deserve it all and more!

oh my god all these prompts are so good and you write everyone so well, how can we choose? for your event, may I suggest eren and "this this the first time i've felt the need to confess." or "it's okay, we're the best of friends."

ty for hosting this! I can't wait to see everything you come out with ٩(⌒‿⌒)۶

FIRST TIME I'VE FELT THE NEED TO CONFESS (e. jaeger)

a/n: drunk eren and dd reader, mutual pining but eren is shameless and reader has class, LOSER CORE EREN, reader referred to as "ma'am" once in a teasing context

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

If anyone saw this situation out of context, it might be funny. But in content—your context specifically—it's nothing less than a headache.

Because you've been saddled with the pleasure of driving home an absolutely trashed Eren, pulling him by his collar to your car as he whines and thrashes with objections.

"One date," he repeats, plopping dead weight into the passenger seat of your car and looking up at you with clouded eyes.

Your response is expected, "Nope."

Eren opens his mouth, but before you can hear whatever bullshit he was conjuring up, you shut his door and walk over to the other side of the car.

Without fail, as soon as you open your door, he's continuing his pleading.

"Just dinner? That's literally all I'm asking for, just one dinner where—"

"You know," you interrupt him as you slide into the driver's seat, "you're a sloppy drunk."

You watch the thought process (or lack thereof) in his mind as he smirks and leans his seat further back, "Drinking isn't the only thing I do sloppy if you—"

"Don't finish that sentence."

Eren's eyes travel in amusement from your blushing and aggravated face to where you turn the key in the ignition and white knuckle the steering wheel. He huffs and kisses his teeth, before defeatedly joking.

"Too far?"

You don't speak, but the glare you shoot him says enough. He holds his hands up in defense and turns his attention to his window.

Silence takes over the car for a few peaceful moments and you don't bring yourself to question it, because Eren not talking is a whole lot better than Eren talking. Not only talking, but asking you out—something he's never thought to do before in the entire three years of knowing you.

Between your own exhaustion and his pathetic alcohol tolerance, you're almost positive you can write it off as nonsense. That is, until Eren opens his big fat mouth up again.

"What if I beg?"

At a red light, you rest your forehead against the steering wheel in exasperation. You hear him borderline giggle as the action gently beeps on your horn.

Your voice comes weak, "Since when do you even want to ask me out? Are you that off your ass right now?"

That changes something in him, because even though he is off his ass right now, he's wanted to ask you out when he was sober about ten times over by now. It's not his fault he's never gotten the courage to do so until now. Right?

"No, fuck no, I—" he stumbles over the slurred syllables as his brain fogs, "I mean, I am drunk, yeah. But I've been far drunker."

Comically, you stare through him, as if he doesn't have a single thought in his puny little brain. When the light turns green, you turn away from him and start driving again, suddenly far too calm for his liking.

"Believe it or not, that doesn't make me feel any better."

Eren rubs his blurry eyes with a calloused hand. "Shit—yeah, I know, okay? Just, hold on. Let me start over, 'cause I do really do wanna buy you dinner and—”

"Why now?"

"Not now," he states matter of fact, "when I'm sober and know where my wallet is."

"No, Eren," your voice is soft now, humiliated. You won't even look at him when you weakly whisper, "Why are you telling me this all of a sudden?"

He takes pride in the way he holds your stare for all of three seconds, before turning down and looking at his shoelaces.

"This is just the first time I've felt the need to confess," he mumbles.

You deadpan, "The first time?"

"Yup."

"There were other times you kept it to yourself?

"Like two whole years worth, yeah," he huffs under his breath. "But I wasn't gonna lead with that because that sounds lame and this makes me sound more manly and suave."

The car hums beneath him when he hears you laugh, and his drunk mind can't tell if it's out of pity or honest amusement, but he likes the sound of it all the same.

Though your words might be meant to sting, the delivery is silky when you tease, "I'm driving you home because you can't handle your liquor. Nothing about you is manly or suave right now."

He nods along obediently, "Okay, sorry."

Turning his attention back to the condensation dripping from the window, he suddenly speaks so gently that you'd think he was sober if you didn't see what he drank tonight.

"If you don't actually wanna go out, you can just reject me already. It's fine."

Now it's Eren who won't meet your eye as you're pulling up to his house on the corner of the street. Throwing the car into park and tapping his bicep, he slowly sighs, a bit embarrassed but too drunk to actually care.

"Tell you what," you breathe, and you're surprised Eren's neck doesn't snap on impact with the speed he turns to face you. You bite your cheek at his desperation and exhale, "If you wake up in the morning and still want to take me to dinner, then we can talk about it tomorrow."

"Yeah?" you swear you can physically see the light reenter his eyes at your simple words.

Nodding, you smile. "Yeah, but for now, get your ass in your apartment and drink a shit ton of water."

Gently shoving him, Eren gets out of the car. In the slightly drizzling rain, his eyes never leave yours as his lanky legs stand up and he salutes in a corny way, "Yes, ma'am."

You reach over the middle console to pull his door shut, but before you can even grab it, he's reaching for the handle and holding it open.

"Wait—!"

"What now?" exasperation crawls from your throat.

You watch unimpressed as he pats down all of his pockets before meekly whispering.

"…Do you have my house keys?"

[lomlhwa]

shut your mouth (y.jw)

pairing: brother's best friend!jungwon x friend's little sister!reader

preview: you hate jungwon. you have since you met him. you assumed he felt the same way because of his attitude towards you. so why is it that when you catch him jacking off, he's moaning your name?

tags/warnings: fem reader, slight voyeurism, big dick!jungwon, so much dirty talk, borderline hate fucking, oral (m & f receiving), throat fucking, cum eating, throat and belly bulge kink, so much spit, degredation, dacryphilia, hair pulling, a handful of spanks, marking, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: the voyeurism isn't really consented but jungwon makes it kinda obvious that he thought it was hot

wc: 2.5k

song recs for this fic: drippin by nct dream, autobahn by monsta x, monsta truck by monsta x, ego by the boyz

a/n: this is my current best attempt at aggressive-ish sex. uhhhh yeah this was an experience to write.

it’s 3am, your brother isn’t home. he knows his curfew is midnight, so where the hell is he? you’ve called his cell almost 6 times now. you’re starting to worry that he’s dead or something.

you decide to go and check his best friend’s house. sometimes he ignores his phone if him and jungwon are gaming together for hours on end. jungwon is honestly the person you hate most in this world, but if he’s the reason your brother isn’t answering then you’ll have to suck it up. 

you get up off the couch, throw a jacket and some shoes on and walk out the door. luckily, jungwon lives within walking distance from the apartment you share with your brother. yes, it’s cold outside but that’s why you threw on a jacket. 

now, you didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas. your little sleep shorts and loose sleep shirt surely won’t be a problem for jungwon or your brother. your legs are a little chilly but you’re almost there.

when you finally get to jungwon’s apartment, having avoided using the buzzer after being let in by an older woman, you go to knock on his door. strangely, you find that his door is unlocked and slightly open. if you had knocked, the door would’ve flung open. 

you push open the door and walk in. you open your mouth to call out for the man you hate but something tells you to shut up and stay quiet. you take your shoes off and tiptoe further into the house. the lights are all off which gives his house an almost eerie feel, the moonlight being the only real illumination.

you peek into the kitchen, no one. you peek out onto the balcony, only a lawn chair is out there. you peek into the extra bedroom, empty. you check if the bathroom light is on, nope. no sign of your brother, or even jungwon for that matter. 

no sign of jungwon that is, up until you get close to his bedroom door. you hear what sounds like some shuffling and heavy breathing from behind the door. you see that it’s open a crack and there’s a lamp on, but you’re terrified to look inside. what if him and your older brother are fucking or something?

as your mind runs through a hundred and one possibilities, a sound breaks through the silence. it’s low, and you almost missed it. until it happens again.

“y/nnn fuck,” you hear jungwon moan out. what he’s doing finally clicks in your head. he’s getting off to his imagination of you. 

for years, you swore up and down that you hated each other. he always glared at you, ignored you and usually would lock you out of his apartment. so why is it that he’s getting off to you of all people? 

before your brain could even make full sense of the situation, you find yourself peeking in through the door. you can see jungwon with his left arm thrown over his eyes, his head thrown back and his right hand pumping himself. 

you almost gasp but manage to silently cover your mouth. he’s big. bigger than you anticipated. even despite the massive size of his hands, he can’t cover his entire length. his heavy breathing and low groans fill your ears. your thighs unconsciously clench together. 

you can feel the slick collecting in your underwear the longer you stand and stare at the man you’re supposed to despise. why does he have to look and sound so hot while he’s getting off?

just as your brain decides that it’s time to stop watching and just sneak back out, you hear every sound jungwon was making come to a complete stop. you hear some shuffling and suddenly he’s standing in front of you. his hair sticks to his head due to sweating and it only adds to his over abundance of attractiveness.

“what the fuck are you doing here, little one?” he sneers at you. he looks you up and down, making you feel small. you open your mouth to respond snarkily but he shoves two fingers down your throat. 

“were you watching me get off the whole time? what a whore,” he shoves his fingers farther down your throat, causing you to gag a little. you eyes water as you look up at him. he backs you up into his room, shutting the door with his foot. 

he manages to safely back you up all the way to his bed. with his fingers still lodged in your throat, he fully takes in your current attire. “no bra?” he slips a couple fingers from his other hand under the waistband of your shorts and smirks. “hm, no panties either.” 

his eyes trail from your core all the way back up to your eyes. “i’m gonna let you speak, but all you’re going to say is why you’re here,” he takes his two digits out and you cough a little at the loss of contact. 

“i came looking for my brother. i was gonna knock but your front door was open so i just kinda let myself in and found you, y’know, like that,” as soon as your sentence is done, his fingers are back in your mouth to shut you up. 

“your precious older brother is at a party. of course he wouldn’t have told you that because he knew he would miss his curfew,” he tells you. he slides his free hand under your shirt, grazing both your nipples. you choke out a soft whine at the sudden contact with jungwon’s warm fingers. “his absence means i can have my way with you, right?” he says it like a question but you know he’s not really asking. 

he removes his long digits from your mouth again, only to spin you around so that your head is hanging off the side of the bed. “do you want this?” he asks, this time it’s a real question. he knew better than to just take you without asking first. you nod to the best of your abilities in your current position. 

he sheds his pants and boxers before throwing them in a corner. he stands in front of your face, his cock fully hard. he brushes the head with your lips, smearing his precum all over your face. you open your mouth and dart your tongue out to pass it over his slit. 

“remember to breathe, slut,” he says before plunging his length into your mouth. he pushes himself in until your throat convulses around him and you cough up spit that spills out of your mouth and onto your face. you close your eyes to avoid getting your own saliva in them. he can see the outline of his cock in your throat moving in and out.

he presses his hand onto your throat, feeling the bulge in your throat disappear and reappear. you rub your thighs together for some sort of satisfaction. you want to shove your hand into your shorts and get yourself off but you can kinda tell that that would piss him off.

so that’s what you do.

while he’s mesmerized by how well your slutty little throat is taking him, you get your hand into your pants and circle your clit with one of your fingers. the immediate relief washes over you and you moan around his length. 

he shoves himself farther into your throat to make you gag up more spit. you cough around him, your throat constricting and unrestricting around him. as he uses your mouth to get off, you’re slowly building up your own orgasm. 

however, when he realizes how close you’re getting based on how much your legs are shaking, he pulls your hand away. he holds your hands together over your chest. he laughs a deep, dark laugh. “the little slut can’t wait to be touched? do you just love me fucking your throat that much?” you whine as your only real response. 

he begins fucking your throat faster, his release building up quicker and quicker. you choke and gag around his merciless cock jamming down your throat. you do your best to keep your breathing at bay and keep calm.

“fuck, baby, gonna cum down that pretty little throat,” his hips come to a complete halt as he spills down your throat. you enclose your lips around him to suck him dry before obediently swallowing his release. 

he pulls out and admires your sweat and spit covered face. he moves you around so that your head is no longer on the side of the bed. he slides your shirt over your head and tosses it on the floor with his clothes.

he connects his mouth with your hardened buds, slobbering all over them. he leaves dark hickey’s in his wake. you cover your mouth with the back of one of your hands and tangle your fingers in jungwon’s hair with the other. you fill his ears with needy whines and deep sighs. 

he finally pulls away from your chest and uses his strength to move you around again. face down, ass up. he pulls your sleep shorts off of you, nudging you to lift your knees. when he’s done stripping you, he comes face to face with your sopping core. 

he immediately dives into you, eating you out like a starved man. every so often, his nose bumps your entrance and you want to lose it. his tongue expertly circles your clit, lightly sucking on it, making your brain go haywire. 

you push your hips back to meet his mouth and he groans against you, sending chills down your spine. he dips his tongue into your hole, wiggling it around. your eyes roll into the back of your head. your arms collapse and you end up face first into his bed. 

“god, fuck, jungwon i can’t take it,” your voice is raspy and breaks during your sentence. this only eggs him on to keep doing exactly what he’s doing. “you’ll take what i give you, won’t you?” he says, looming over you. you nod as fast as your neck will let you.

“come on, my little slut, cum for me,” the way he says it almost sounds like a beg. but he knows better than to beg. he’s in control of you, he doesn’t need to beg.

he plunges two fingers into your hold and makes a ‘come hither’ motion. that’s what does it for you. that’s what throws you over the edge. you’re hit with a brick wall of white, hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

you cum so hard that your leg thumps on the bed like a bunny. “jungwon! fffuck!” you cry out. until now, you had never been so grateful for your brother not being around. he pulls away from your cunt, pressing soft kisses onto your clit. 

he gets on his knees behind you, positioning himself at your entrance. he pushes in, completely raw. he stays still inside you, admiring the way that your pussy just sucks him in so perfectly. he reaches around your waist to feel the bulge of his cock protruding in your abdomen. 

he retracts his hand and makes one small thrust. he proceeds to land a few hard spanks on your ass, one in particular leaving a prominent hand print. you push back against him, desperate for some sort of movement from him.

he grabs a handful of your hair into a ponytail, jerking your head back. your arms come back up to support your body weight after having given out earlier. “are you really so cock-drunk that you can’t be patient? pathetic,” he squeezes your face to get your mouth open before spitting into it. obediently, you swallow his spit. 

he sets a slow and steady pace, drawing completely out of you before slowly shoving back in. every time his sheathes himself to the hilt, he hits directly on the gummy spot inside you. it’s making your arms weak again. 

“please, jungwon, faster,” you plead. he jerks your head back again before speeding his hips up. the sounds of skin slapping fill the room.

“y’know what i hate most about you?” he says, slapping your ass again. “i’ve always hated how fucking innocent you looked all the time. i’ve wanted to fuck you since the day we met but you decided to take the hate path. i tried to do the same but you’re just so fuckable,” he’s rambling but you’re loving everything he’s saying. 

“you and your stupid skirts that barely cover your ass. your slutty crop tops that are pretty much bras,” he groans into your ear. “then you show up to my house in the middle of the night in tiny shorts and a shirt with no undergarments, watch me jack off and try to leave,” he lets go of your hair, trading it for pushing your head into the mattress. 

“you’re never getting away now,” he growls. his voice has gotten raspy and it sends tingles through you. “you’re mine,” his breathing picks up significantly. the way he’s so possessive of you makes your core throb in excitement.

“say it,” he demands. “say it and i’ll make you cum.” you nod, trying to form full sentences in your head. “i’m yours jungwon, fuck. i’m all yours!” you cry out as he connects his mouth to your neck and a finger to your clit. 

“cum for me, whore. give me everything you’ve got,” the room is spinning. your entire body is on fire with every word to come out of his mouth. your pulsating around him as your orgasm builds and builds. 

“fuck, cumming! cumming fuck jungwon. please cum inside me,” you cry out before you completely fall apart on his cock. he jabs your g-spot over and over while chasing his own high. you shake and tears fall from your eyes as he uses you. 

“please, please, please,” you fall into begging cries for him to finish inside you. you wiggle around, trying to get away. the overstimulation taking over your body. he wraps one arm around your waist to keep you from getting away.

he finally finishes, holding you close to him as you milk him. he places wet kisses on your ears and your neck before pulling out. he grabs some tissues and cleans up the escaping remnants of his release. 

he helps you lay down in his bed, exhaustion now taking you over. 

“i meant what i said. i’ve wanted you since we met,” he admits. you find this endearing and it also makes you feel bad for hating him. 

“then i guess you need to work to get me to feel the same,” you tease. he kisses you sweetly. it’s the first time he’s ever kissed you and it’s right after he fucked you like he hates you. honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“what are we gonna tell your brother?” he asks. before you can reply, your brother walks in. “you don’t gotta tell me shit. i knew this was gonna happen eventually. y/n, just please don’t get pregnant.” 

you laugh but he gives you a death glare. 

“don’t worry, man. i have no intention of knocking up your sister,” jungwon says.

“....yet.”

© lomlhwa 2023

[heartfullofleeches]

[tw: threats]

Midnight Caller Darling... - A reader fully aware and terrified of their stalkers. The yearning, unwanted presents and advances- the stares. They hate the stares most of all. Lingering glances burned into their skin, following them home and clinging to them no matter how hard they scrubbed and scratched them away. In their shower, their bedroom. Nowhere was safe from watching eyes. They were an infestation, a plague. Darling just wants them all to go away, but nobody will help them. Their calls had been ignored by police, ongoing cases thrown out and burned by detectives who swore their safety - all parties involved paid off with the deeper betrayal of passing their information off to the highest bidder.

They couldn't leave. This was their home, the town that raised them. Though its people had turned their backs on them they couldn't uproot their entire life so suddenly and who's to say their stalkers wouldn't chase after them once they fled - the very police who turned a blind eye writing their escape and subsequential disappearance as just another missing persons case.

They had enough. They were tired of being afraid in their own home. Tired of being afraid of going outside. They searched for something - anything to help them come to find everything they needed was written straight from the hands of their admirers and slipped under their front door.

Phone numbers. Once it was clear nobody would save them, their stalkers shed almost every inch of anonymity and became bolder in their demands and approach. They left numbers, places to meet. Pretty much everything except their real names.. Cowards. One night Reader realized they could have the same wall of mystery as their watchers and ventured out to the payphone down the street. It was dangerous to go out so late, but there were just so much racing through their head they had to do something to gain a moment's rest.

They dialed the first number, granted seconds to put everything in their brain to words as the phone rang. They begs so many nights to be free, it was time for a different approach. If they showed fear or even an ounce of weakness it'd mark them permanently as an easy target. They had to be the one that was feared, a force to be reckoned with. They need to be worse than their stalkers. Threaten them and make them fear every waking moment alive - just like them.

"I..... I have a knife... I have a knife and... I'll stab it through your fucking eye if I ever see you again."

Did they really just say that? The words flowed so naturally from their lips it felt as if they'd rehearsed them their whole life. It felt good. Freeing. Their body hadn't felt so light in ages. They felt in control. Powerful.

"I'll gouge them both out... then you'll never be able to stare at anyone else again. I'll be the last person ever see.. You'd like that - wouldn't you?... stupid bitch."

Its the most fun they've had in years - even before all this began. They never wanted to come down from this high. They were free. Finally free.

"Slut... Think showing a bit of skin will make everyone love you? You're worthless. Nothing more than a cheap fuck. If you ever talk to another person like you do now I'll cut out that pretty tongue and rearrange your guts in ways you aren't used to. We'll see who think you're oh so cute and innocent when I put your head in a trash bag."

"There've been so many times where I could kill you. So many times I could just wrapped my hands around your throat and just - squeezed til you finally shut your mouth for good. One of these days... one of these fucking days..."

"Hahaha, I'll kill you. You hear me, bitch?! I'll slit your fucking throat and fuck you til the warmth leaves your body. It's all you're good for anyway. You stupid whore. Disgusting pig. hahaha - HAHAHA."

In a way their calls work. There aren't as many eyes on them anymore - bashful and reserved by the depravity their darling has whispered to them in the dead of night. It's almost romantic most think. Being the outlet for every twisted thought and frustion their love has had to endure. Figures who once waited outside their door wait patiently each night for their midnight call unable to fall asleep without the verbal assaults and threats of the one they hold dearest to heart.

[pixeechix21]

The Ritual

Reader x Slytherin boys (Matteo and Theo)

Summary: When the ritual begins, the dark gives light to desires that need to be satisfied. You are a Slytherin and there’s the initiation for Last Year students. Pansy begs you to go, but what makes you agree is because, the Slytherin boys were betting you wouldn’t because you're a goody two shoes. When you arrive at the bonfire in the Forbidden Forest you're teased by Matteo and Theo.

TW: where do I start??? degradation kink, praise kink, primal, threesome, rough, M/M/F, blood, fighting, oral, p in v, fear kink, being chased, almost suggestion of rape (didn’t happen phew), trapping(idk wt it means necessarily but like it makes sense), teasing

WC:2.8K ish

Heading towards the dungeons you were ready to take off your tie and huddle up, hidden away from them. Entering the high vaulted main room, you search for them making sure you're safe. Pansy shrieks excitedly as soon as you take a step further. She runs up and hugs, “bitch where the fuck have you been!” she takes hold of you and steers you to the large leather couches situated in an arc, full of giggling girls. “Hey, y/n,” a couple smile and continue gossiping in whispering voices. You let yourself curl up between Pansy and Oliva. 

“Yeah, Snape wanted me after class to talk about extra work,” you explain, trying to play it cool and that you definitely weren’t getting some from Gryffindor. 

“Boo! You overachiever,” Pansy teases. “So you going?” She looks eagerly. It takes you a moment to realize what she was asking.

“Ehhhhh-”

“For the love of god, you better be,” she threatens.

“But I have to study and honestly I don’t want to be out there freezing my ass off,” you complain. You wanted to go but you really did have work you hadn’t done any of the assignments for tomorrow.

“You won’t be freezing your ass off if someone’s grabbing it. Pleeease,” she grabs your arms giving you faux puppy dog eyes. “We can even leave. After midnight,” she negotiates. You’re unsure, you’re low key excited about the Ritual, but… your brain tries to reason.

“Yeah pleeease, I know someone that’d want to get some,” Matteo's voice mocks from behind us. Aw shit, the Heirs. 

“Shut up Matteo, go find a fourth year to play with,” you retaliate facing the group of boys. Each tall and darkly handsome each in their own right. 

"Aww don't say that you know i prefer third years," he mockingly puts a hand to his heart in hurting. "I was merely offering an option."

"Ew Matteo," you, Pansy and Liv say in unison, rolling your eyes. "Anyways she would go for a dick like you, she's got Simon from Ravenclaw to help" she points out completely forgetting that that was said in confidence and that he broke it off to pursue "true love" or some shit. 

"We all know Simon couldn't please you," Tom chirps in walking along, already bored of this child's play. You roll your eyes and face forward ignoring their laughs echoing down from the boy's dorms. 

"He's not wrong he has that rat out of a sewer vibe," Liv agrees watching as your face screws up in a smile as you agree. 

"I'll go," you finally say.

"Yes bitch!" Pansy squeals again, jumping up and running to your room. 

The ritual is a customary initiation for final year Slytherins. All the staff know about it but they don't have enough energy to deal with stopping it from happening. It happens on the last weekend of autumn term, where everyone drinks endlessly and there's always a game involved. Hunt or be hunted; separate the mundane from the ambitious. 

As soon as Snape is reported to be tucked away in his master room, the students slowly scuttle out of the dungeons like mice, out to the dark forest. 

Pansy is readjusting her tits to be pushed out further, you shake your head giggling. "Shut up you're blessed with amazing tits," she dismisses you pulling down your shirt to stop you from hiding yourself. "Show what your mama gave you babies." The cold encircles your body and the full moon lights the path into the forest. In the middle behind a tangle of trees there's a small clearing in the middle a large bonfire burns. You see a page flutter up in the flames, probably used old books instead of fire, you think. You're nervous, unsure of the darkness and the rowdy teens drinking. Pansy spotted her boy toy and she left the bottle in hand. You walk around talking to others, slowly warming up as the fire burns brighter. Then just as everyone settled down, there was a shouting announcing, “everyone shut the fuck up!” On top of a newly fallen tree stood Draco. 

“As you all know tonight is the sacred night of the Ritual!” Everyone lifts their drinks shouting in excitement. “Alright alright, tonight’s special game is Tag, boys versus girls, as we are gentlemen we’ll let the ladies have a head start.” He goes on mischievously. “The Forbidden Forest is filled with monstrous creatures, but don’t lose sight of the real dangers. Us.” There’s geering all around. You search for Pansy but she’s nowhere to be seen. Don’t be a pussy, a small voice tells you. Inhaling deeply you accept the consequences whatever they will be. It’s a game, and you’re the chestmaster you got this, you hype yourself out. 

“We’ll start in 10 minutes,” Tom shouts. Everyone spreads out, you head out to search for a route. “The winners will be given the honorary title of King and Queen of Slytherine, and will be placed as head girl and boy of Slytherine house.”

“You warmed up?” Matteo cuts you off, eyeing you up and down. “I can give you a hand. Get you ready,” he steps closer. You instinctively step back. 

“Where you off to little bunny, we haven’t said go,” Theo breathes out smoke. The pungent smoke fills your lungs as you suck in your breath. He’s directly behind you, sandwiching you in.

“Go fuck yourself,” you say snarkily. Your chest rising up and down, tits rising and falling out of your small shirt. Matteo’s dead eyes look down to your chest, and smiles slightly, running his tongue over his teeth. Like a wolf ready to eat. 

“Trust me, I’d rather you do it,” he says slowly, inching closer. Theo chuckles as you step back again, this time his large hands take hold of your waist to steady you. A small hum of agreement comes from him. 

“I’d fuck your dad before you,” you spit out glaring up at Matteo. Challenging him further.

“Ha! I never thought power would be what gets you hot and heavy y/n,” he teases.

You’ve had enough, there’s too much adrenaline and alcohol running through your body to the point you’ve lost all reasonability, because suddenly you’re getting extremely hot. There’s a stirring down between your legs as he grabs your chin so that you look up at him. Feeling both of their hands holding you there, you feel trapped, encircled and being toyed with. 

Draco is counting down to zero and you’re starting to anticipate your escape. “Be careful little bunny,” Matteo starts.

“Wouldn’t want a big bad wolf to catch you,” Theo finishes, flicking his cigarette away. As Draco shouts zero, they both step aside, a devilish smirk plastered on their faces. They watch you intently as you start to walk away backwards then you turn around and bolt it.

There’s screams and giggles of girls as we make our way through the dark forest. I don’t even want to be the head girl you think regretting coming, the comfortable thought of your books and studies sounds like a much better option. You’ve slowed your running shouting and giggles only  distant echoes now. “Run run, bunny,” a voice says. You stop spinning around trying to gauge where the voice came from. The silence chills you to your bones, and you go into a sprint again. There’s laughing all around. You want to barf from the heavy breathing and alcohol. You check behind you, “GOT YOU!” Caleb James shouts, scaring the living shit out of you as he jumps out and takes hold of you. “Look who it is, the slytherin heirs’ slut,” he jeers, his breath stinks as he talks closely to your face, you turn your head in disgust. “Bet you’ll open your legs for me,” he starts to manhandle you and you scream for help. Your wand had fallen to the floor when he caught you. “Shut up slut,” he shakes you vigorously. There’s a snap of a twig in the dark. He stops his movements. You try to break free. Two dark figures step out of the shadows, their black clothes like camouflage. You never thought you’d be happy to see them. One of them advances upon you guys, he raises his fist and punches Caleb. A splatter of blood falls on your face, you step back watching them. Matteo dodges a swing and gets him in the ribs. Theo goes from behind and holds Caleb in a lock, “don’t you ever fucking try that you mud blood,” Matteo growls as he lands punches mercilessly. “Let him go he’s mine,” Theo steps back and Matteo tackles him to the floor.

Caleb gets Matteo breaking blood, a small stream coursing on his face. “Stop! Teo stop you’re going to kill him!” You yell. “Stop him Theo!” You jerk your head to Theo who’s watching happily taking a drag from his cigarette. 

“No this is all him,” he chuckles. Matteo’s knuckles are covered in blood and the boy isn’t responding any more. Face swollen and already purpling. After a second of two, Theo pushes off the tree, “alright I’m bored. Get off Matteo,” Matteo grabs Caleb's shirt and pulls him close, he says something that you can’t hear and then pushes him down.

He looks up at you as he gets up. “You okay?” He says quietly. His breath is erratic, a wild excited look fills his dark eyes. “You didn’t have to do that,” you start.

“A thank you would be polite,” he says sarcastically, approaching you. You can smell the blood and mint and he exhales from his mouth. Without you realizing your hand goes up and swipes his split lip, wiping some blood away. Suddenly he stops you by your wrist mid air. He takes you in close. He towers over you, “thank you,” you whisper. You’re released and snap out of the trance. Theo offers his blunt, taking it you relax as the smoke cradles you. “You caught me,” you laugh, not sure how to process those brief seconds you were scared for your life. 

“What’s the prize?” Theo teases, raising an eyebrow. 

“Come here and I’ll give it to you,” you joke. Well you thought you were joking until his shadow blocks the light of the moon and his black eyes gleam cravingly. You pull his head down, he opens his mouth slightly. You kiss him. His hands wrap around you and his tongue dominates your mouth. Ravaging your lips. Wanting to play with them like they did you, you break apart he looks disappointed at this. You put the blunt to your lips and breathe, exhaling as you eye Matteo who’s looking jealous at the scene in front of him. “And you,” you direct at him. Already your panties are wet with the idea of having them both. At the same time. 

Pansy would laugh her ass off, you think humorously. 

He comes to you with his hands snaking to your ass as he pulls you in close. He licks his lips, his eyes hooded heavily in lust. His kiss was determined. He wanted to show you. Force you to see that he’s the one you need. Behind you you feel Theo press himself into your ass, already growing harder you feel his dick on your back making you gulp. Reaching for him you pull his face into your neck, obediently he places hurtful kisses and bites up and down it. Matteo’s hot body firmly pushes you to Theo. Matteo’s hand needs your tits, as Theo’s moves down in front to your panties, his cold hands play between your wetness. You moan as you're over-stimulated. Turning your face to take Theo’s lips and bite. A clash of teeth and tongue. “You’re so wet for us bunny,” he moans. Matteo distances himself and looks at you both. Staring. He gets turned on at the idea of you entangled in his best friend's hands. He envisions himself giving you unbearable pleasure. How it’s hard to restrain himself and take you all for himself. “Take it off. Now.” He crosses his arms glaring at you as you make eye contact with him. Theo breaks away. First your pants fall to the floor. Your nipple hardens evermore at the chill and pure neediness. “More,” Theo presses. Lifting your shirt over your head that joins your pants on the floor. Tantalizingly you undo your bra. Then look through your lashes as you take off your pink panties.

They inhale at the sight of your beautiful naked body, both of them on the edge of tearing you apart. Your skin buzzes excitedly as you get on your knees in front of them. Your mouth starts salivating at the thought of having them both. “Want us both?” Matteo provokes. You nod your head, your hands eager to undo their belts. 

“Greedy little bitch,” Theo takes your hair and pulls it harshly. Your clit is crying to be touched, throbbing painfully. You can’t take it anymore. An unspoken agreement went between the boys, Matteo took you and Theo stood and watched. You have no time to react as you're thrown down, you hear the jingle and zipper coming undone. His hand palms your ass bruising it, you feel him slide his large tip up and down your slit, pushing in slightly then pulling out. Sexual frustration builds in you so much that you press your ass to him. “Needy little whore,” he chuckles as he thrusts himself in. Your back arches as he unfurls his hatred for you. There is no gentleness in his thrusts, none. He takes his hand to your front and starts edging you to your orgasm. Circling fast then slowly, taking you almost to the top then lets you settle down. Over and over he plays these cruel games. Theo eyes flare up as you look at him, eyes half open as if drugged by the sex, mouth open, you pant and moan. 

“You sound so pretty,” he crouches down, clearing a loose strand of hair, tucking it delicately behind your ear. He kisses you then stands up taking off his belt. “Take this Matteo, give her a lesson or two about power,” he hands his belt to Teo. He releases his grip from you and snaps the belt. The loud snap echoes in the dark.

 The Ritual so sexual and forbidden, it inspires even the most demonic of creatures. 

Matteo lets the belt hit you once, twice, three times each time, stinging more than before. You’re going to hate sitting down tomorrow. Theo comes back into your sight, his hard cock begging to be released. 

“Open wide bunny,” Matteo commands, setting down the belt and going back to circling your clit feverishly. As you come opening your mouth to let out sounds of pleasure Theo thrusts his dick into your mouth. His hands steady your head as he face fucks you, “fuck you’re better than I’d ever imagined,” you see sweat build on his forehead. “Look at you, such a beautiful little whore,” he wipes the strands of hair that are plastered to your face. 

“Fuck- God y/n you feel like heaven,” Matteo brakes out, as his own fucking doesn’t slow. You're so full that you start to feel another build up, it’s too much. It’s just enough. It’s not enough. Delirium comes over you as you cunt throbs, and you can breathe. The boys’ moaning and animalistic fucking sounds like a symphony to you. You cry out as you come again losing all control of your body. Theo finishes and wipes his come from your lips and you lick them clean as told so. Matteo’s nails mark you as he finishes ruthlessly. 

All three of you are a mess. Theo offers you a hand to stand up as Matteo helps you dress, picking out leaves from your clothes. Both treating you like a queen. You are lost, and they guide you back. “We found her! The Queen of Slytherin!” Theo takes your hand and bows. You are absolutely bamboozled at the fact that there were students playing tag and that they’re all cheering not knowing what just happened. Pansy yelled happily and you just nodded, thanking people as you passed by and headed to bed.

Because God knows the pain you’ll be in tomorrow.