#it's giving me the creeps i'm just. it keeps staring at me

[monsterdoll14]

I wrote something for this! Beneath the cut so it’s not a giant block on somebody’s page. But it really liked this idea! @beneathsilverstars

You're sitting in your car, staring at a clock with all the power your, admittedly tiny, body possesses. You said you would arrive at her house at four, but you showed up at three thirty! Which is way too early to show up at someone's house so they could drink your blood, are you crazy? Madam Odile was going to think you were so weird, stars!

You take a deep breath in, and out. You repeat the motion two more times as you wait for the clock to tick. Two minutes to four o’clock, and maybe it was okay to show up a minute earlier but what if it wasn't!? You couldn't risk that! She might refuse to drink your blood if you offended her, and then you wouldn't get paid and then you couldn't pay rent…

Okay, you could wait two more minutes. You glance at the clock again, and it's already 4:03. Where have you been the past five minutes?!

You jump out the car, steady yourself, and hurry towards the front door.

“Donating” blood to vampires for money is a pretty common practice, since they usually pay pretty well and don't need to take too much blood. You can donate a couple times a month without any major health issues . Plus, with agencies dedicated to organizing blood matches between humans and vampires, it's not a particularly dangerous job. It's also proven to be the only job you can keep.

Of course it is, though. You're a human blood bag. There's not much to screw up as long as you stay still and don't act like a creep.

The match you're currently freaking out about is with a middle aged woman named Odile, who seemed decently wealthy by the size of her house and the fact she can afford rent in this economy. You envy her the tiniest bit about that last one.

She opened the door, looking exactly the same as her photos, and you smile at her.

“Nice to meet you! I'm Siffrin, I'm your donor for today!” Customer service mode, on!

She gives you a quick once over before nodding at something and moving to let you in, “Odile. Please come in.”

You hop over the doorway and carefully take off your shoes before you follow her to her couch. Thank the stars, you didn't really feel comfortable anywhere else. Bedroom was… weird, and the kitchen felt like you were just a piece of meat. Not that that was particularly inaccurate, but you couldn't stop yourself from feeling bad about it.

You sit on the couch where Odile gestures for you and take off your gloves. They are kinda scratchy, but you don't want to have to deal with strangers giving you weird looks about the marks lining your wrist. Odile doesn't comment on them, which is yet another win!

“So, how would you like to–”

“One moment.” Odile holds up a hand and walks away. You sit awkwardly on the couch, gloves off, waiting for her. Your skin starts to crawl a bit. She wasn't just going to leave you here,be right? You couldn't possibly have screwed up already. Unless he saw the marks on your wrist and thought you were some sort of weirdo who enjoyed getting bitten by vampires–oh, stars, what if she thought you were some sort of perverted creep? Should you leave? What if–

“Alright, I'm back. Is apple juice ok? I don't have any iron supplements, that was thoughtless of me. My apologies.”

Uh. you… didn't usually get something to drink when you did this..? You kept stuff in your car since you tended to get kicked out the moment you were finished. You could hardly blame any of those people, you didn't like strangers in your house either. Even if you did tend to need to wait alone in your car until you weren't woozy anymore, and your heating/cooling systems gave out a while ago…

Crab, you forgot to respond, “that's fine! Uh, thank you!”

Odile nods and makes her way over to you, setting the glass on a coaster on the table. She sits a bit away from you, which is appreciated but also slightly disappointing. You offer her your wrist. Better not to give her an option in case she tries your neck. The last time someone did that it was… a lot of touch from a stranger,

She takes it carefully in her hand, and you flinch a bit. She's holding you so, so carefully it's almost ticklish. She pauses, long enough for you to recollect yourself.

“Have you washed your hands?” she asks. Pretty common question, should not make you feel as dirty as it does.

“Yes ma’am.” You watch as she nods, mostly to herself, then sinks her teeth into your vein. You flinch again but she holds your wrist just firmly enough that the skin doesn't tear on her fangs. Thank the universe, you could not bleed all over her furniture. You didn't even have a couch at your house, but you knew how expensive they were. You wait, perfectly still even when you start to get a bit dizzy, enjoying the gentle touch on your wrists and odd intoxicated feeling you got whenever a vampire bites you.

… Which is disgusting, you shouldn't feel that way. This was a business transaction, stop being weird. It wasn't meant to be pleasant.

Odile finishes surprisingly quickly, pulling off and pressing a black towel to your wrist. You take it from there, holding the towel with one hand as you eye your apple juice. You definitely want a drink now, but you don't know when she’s going to ask you to leave.

She nudges it towards you, and you carefully accept. Geez, she didn't take much, but you've already donated a couple times this month. You feel woozier than usual.

“You should wait an hour or two before you leave,” Odile comments, standing and walking out, “it'll be late then, but I don't have anything to give you for dinner, as you can imagine. I hope you don't mind.”

An hour… or two? The longest you usually even needed was thirty minutes. Was this Odile’s first time doing this? But you can't imagine she was turned recently if she didn't bother keeping food in the house. Not to mention the illegal nature of being turned in the first place. It still happened, but it wasn't very common? Most were just born vampires these days.

“Well?” Odile's standing in front of you, stars! You needed to stop zoning out! What did she even say…?

“Yes, ma’am,” you mumble, hoping it's the right answer. There's no adverse response, so you think it's probably fine? She sits on an armchair next to you, far enough away that she couldn't grab you but close enough that she can watch you comfortably. She takes out a book and begins to read, and you sip your apple juice in bafflement. What was she even doing? …did she want seconds?

… You don't think you have it in you to give any more blood tonight. If she asks, you don't think you can really refuse, but you really don't want to. You reach for your gloves.

“Don't you need bandages?” she asks, arching her eyebrows.

You pause, gloves in hand, and need a second before you can fully process what she said, “not… really? I don't have any on hand, anyway.” You slump a little at the effort it takes to form coherent responses; which is probably cause for concern. Geez, you're tired.

“Hm. I'll remember next time, then.” Ah, so she was a repeat customer. You got those sometimes, but they usually didn't linger for fear of forming an actual connection with a human of all things. There's another pause before Odile speaks again, “why are you doing this? So often, too.”

That was a question you received pretty often, even from the quietest of vampires. To be fair, Odile didn't seem chatty to be exact, but apparently she had a curious streak.

“Well… the pay is good,” you tell her, cradling your drink. And it's the only way anyone will ever touch me, remains unsaid.

“Hm. money problems, then?” she asks, tone distant. Seems like she's already lost interest. You zone out a bit, then realize you should probably say something in response.

“...I've got plenty in the bank, just not the blood kind” you mumble, not particularly paying attention.

Odile laughs.

…

…oh!

You made her laugh!

A dazed smile makes its way onto your face. You feel warm, and there are little fireworks in your stomach because you made her laugh! This means she definitely doesn't hate you, right? Sure, she was gentle earlier, but that's a bit of a requirement with the more finicky veins. Can't have you bleeding out and ruining her nice furniture. But! You made her laugh! So even if she thinks you're gross for being this desperate for money, she probably doesn't hate you too much!

… or does she? Maybe this time was just a fluke. You should probably try again so you can be extra sure she doesn't hate you. Just in case. Something about blood, or banks, or vampires… but what if you offended her!? Most vampires didn't like your jokes!

You should be a little more vague. Just to be safe.

“Um, how many apples grow on a tree?” you ask, gesturing to your drink a bit. Odile gives you a confused look.

“Pardon?”

“All of them!” you tell her, grinning. She purses her lips, but doesnt look particularly annoyed. More confused, which was not the reaction you were going for.

“I… see.”

Quick, try again, “sorry, I tried to make a joke, but there were no fruits to my labor!”

Odile snorts at that one, turning the page of her book, “I see. You poor thing.”

You giggle, and she shakes her head at your next few attempts to make her laugh. Regardless, an hour later you're feeling much better and leave. You don't even have to sit in your car very long before you feel safe to drive, which is good because the cold has gotten a lot worse over the past few days. You should start carrying heat pads.

thinkign about odile with fangies,,

au where odile is a vampire and siffrin "donates blood" for money (classic occupation for someone lonely and hopeless) and siffrin says something funny while woozily recovering and odile did NOT expect that from him and laughs and siffrin is like. oh fuck yes i'm getting a good grade in being vampire food.

it's not even a purposeful dumb joke he's just a little out of it and saying things. which odile usually gets annoyed when people go all no-filter and say things to her that she is not interested in hearing or god forbid having to respond to. but siffrin is just being cute and earnest and still not too chatty!

and then siffrin is like I MADE HER LSUGH I HAVE TO KEEP BEING FUNNY and his actual attempts at jokes are so weak that they wrap back around to being entertaining. odiles like mhm im sure there was a joke in there somewhere maybe try again in twenty minutes.

they're going through an agency at first, but odile gets annoyed at how large of a cut the agency takes, but it's easier and safer than trying to arrange something with a stranger independently. but she really likes siffrin so after a couple times she's like. no pressure but if you'd rather get paid a little more we could just continue doing this informally. and siffrin is like YES PLEASE bc they really need the money and they like odile too!

but then siffrin starts donating too much blood bc he's still going through the agency as often as allowed And going to odile independently. it's pretty obvious pretty quickly though, and as soon as she catches on odile lectures them and says she won't keep doing this if siffrin won't take care of themself, and siffrin gets all sad (<- hates to be rejected) and is like oh.. ok.. guess i'll leave... and odile is like oh my god no you still have to drink your orange juice first and you should not have even driven HERE in the first place. *i* will drive you home. which has siffrin all ?? bc wow mixed messages (<- has never been cared about before). but odile finds out that siffrin lives in the shittiest apartment ever and is always this close away from getting evicted and long story short siffrin ends up moving in with odile.

odile is like. well. this is kind of a problematic setup but definitely better than the alternative.

[sabreensthings]

Lucanis x Rook

summary: swimming lessons with soft vulnerability

based on this post by @hatlesshatter

Rook narrows her eyes at the sight before her, tentative fingers grasping at the fabric of her shirt, stones glistening with a dampness she feels creeping up the center of her spine. The water below stares back at her tauntingly. Her breath comes out shaky, fixated on the waves, trying to keep steady. Rook plasters on a tense smile. "I think this is where I may finally die."

Lucanis takes notice of the way she shifts uncomfortably, studying her face, assessing her unease. He gives her an earnest smile.

"Not while I am here," he assures, his hands working on the buttons of his layers. "I won't let anything happen."

"Promise?" Rook asks. Although the inquiry is laced with a teasing hint, Lucanis meets her gaze with soft eyes, momentarily pausing his movements. He is firm in his words, wholehearted and genuine.

"I swear it."

The sincerity in his statement makes Rook flush, although it doesn't entirely wash away her nerves. She takes a breath, calming, pensive, then begins to peel off the layers of her gear and clothing. Lucanis does the same. When they are both left standing in their undergarments, Rook glances up at him with a wary grin, nearly missing the way his eyes sweep over her body for just a fraction of a second. If she wasn't essentially having an internal panic attack at the possibility of drowning during her very first swimming lesson, Rook may have found the situation entirely too vulnerable. Too intimate.

Before she can dwell on the moment for too long, however, Lucanis breaks the silence with a clear of his throat. "Are you ready?" He asks, slowly dipping into the water and looking up at Rook expectantly.

"No," Rook admits rather quick, her feet firmly planted on the stones just inches away from the lake, her posture rigid. She feels her chest burn, her lungs ache, fingers tensing. "I'm sorry. Give me a moment."

Lucanis approaches the shore just below where Rook stands at the edge, peering up at her paled face. He smiles when she meets his gaze, his head tilting, wet hair caressing the side of his neck. "Rook." The name falls from his lips with ease, delicate and soft. He taps on the granite. A silent beckon for her to sit. "Start small."

Rook nods, slowly lowering herself to the ground until she feels the warm stone on her legs, bathed by the sun, tingling her skin. Lucanis motions for her to dip her feet into the water, and she complies with a shaky breath. The water is not as cold as she thought. It envelops her legs as she let's them dangle from the edge, waves wrapping around her calves, tantalizing. She falls silent, staring at the lake. Lucanis eyes Rook carefully, then captures her attention with a hum.

"Illario and I used to come here as children."

"Did you?"

"Yes. Although Caterina was never too happy about it. She said we snuck here too often." Lucanis breathes out a chuckle, and is pleased when Rook leans forward, her elbows on her thighs, tension diminishing with his every word. He shrugs, a playful grin setting upon his features. "Not that it stopped us."

Rook manages a laugh, imagining the scenario with a glint in her eyes. "Little Lucanis and Illario, getting into mischief. How adorable." Lucanis gives her an amused look, a glance at her hands, then moves in closer towards her. Rook doesn't register the hands around her own until she feels a gentle tug forward, thumb brushing against her knuckles - a quiet encouragement to take the next step.

"Come. I will tell you more if you get in." When she doesn't respond, Lucanis gives her hand a squeeze. Reassuring. Grounding. "It is not deep so close to the shore. I've got you, Rook."

She hesitates, unsure for a moment on what to do, but decides to place her trust in the man before her. Rook takes a deep breath, braces herself, then allows Lucanis to gently pull her off the edge and into the chill embrace of the lake. Her eyes remain fixated on his, Lucanis never once averting his gaze as the water enfolds her body, ripples welcoming her in. Once he feels Rook is situated, he lets go of her hands, opens his mouth to congratulate on her bravery. However, he is cut short when he feels trembling fingers cling tightly to his shoulders, short breaths grazing his ear, a deep terror overtaking Rook. She all but flings herself against Lucanis. The impact makes him stumble backwards, nearly slipping against the smooth stones beneath him. Rook cries out.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please don't let me drown!"

Lucanis steadies Rook against him, arms firm around her waist. He regains his balance and sighs. "Mierda, Rook." His voice comes out a bit more exasperated than he intends, but there is no irritation behind it. "I told you I had you."

"You let go!" Rook exclaims, the accusation highlighted with a light shove at his chest. She makes a noise of discontent, huffing. "What happened to swearing you wouldn't let me drown? Some friend you are."

Lucanis let's out a laugh, gently grasping the hand at his chest. "You had your feet on the ground. The water only reaches your shoulders."

"Not the point," Rook grumbles, her eyes falling to their intertwined hands. The pads of her fingertips flattened against the thick hair of his chest, broad and strong. It seeps into her skin, the warmth of him. Her voice comes out soft. "You're not allowed to let me go again. At least not without warning."

Lucanis laughs again, light and gentle. He follows her stare, presses her palm against him. Right above his heart. "I won't."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

Rook looks up, finally meets Lucanis's awaiting eyes, suspended in the moment as an unspoken promise lingers in the air between them. She feels the rising and falling of his chest, a slow and steady rhythm, his eyes locked onto her own with an expression she's never seen on him before. Soft, vulnerable, and...intrigued. Rook flexes her fingers against him nervously, almost as if she's seeking some sort of lifeline, opening her mouth to speak but her throat catches and she cannot find the words. Suddenly everything feels overwhelming again. Lucanis remains silent, like he's waiting for Rook to react, to say something to break the palpable tension.

"I, um...thank you." Rook stammers out, mentally cringing at the way her voice wavers. She pauses, briefly entertains the idea of allowing the lake to swallow her whole, then continues. "You didn't have to offer to teach me in the first place, you know."

"Yes, I did." Lucanis states plainly, eyes soft for a moment before his expression shifts, like he's considering his next words carefully. After a brief pause, his lips twitch upwards, teasing. "I would need to keep airing out my boots otherwise. I can only save you so many times before I have to buy new ones." A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, recounting past instances of having to aid Rook whenever she had slipped or been pushed into bodies of water during their ventures. She gives him a pointed look.

"So you only offered because you were sick of diving in after me?" Rook makes a motion as if she's clutching a pair of pearls on a necklace, feigning offense. "And here I thought you actually cared about my wellbeing."

Lucanis chuckles, his grin wide and easy. "It can be both."

"Right," Rook mutters, sighing dramatically, though whatever tension she may have held has now subsided, the lake no longer feeling vast and intimidating. It now feels almost manageable. "Maybe next time I'll just take the plunge without your assistance then, since you care so much about your boots."

Lucanis hums, unconvinced. He tilts his head at her with a smile, lopsided and amused. Rook feels a flutter in her chest. A shift in the air between them, an understanding of sorts. A bond found, deepened. Lucanis shakes his head. "That would be a shame. You wouldn't hear more stories about "little Lucanis and Illario" then."

Rook pouts, which makes Lucanis chuckle and motion towards the water.

"Unless you still wanted to learn?"

She pretends to ponder the invitation, tapping her fingertips against his skin, then smiles with a newfound confidence.

"Alright, let's do this."

[mega-aulover]

Spreading Christmas Cheer

This is a story based off of the movie Elf as requested by @alliswell21​ It’s from “Jovie” i.e. Katniss’s POV, what she would have seen and fell in love with one Peeta ‘Buddy’ Mellark.

Rated T

Pt 1

I watch Peeta gently kiss the top of our first born’s head. Holly’s dark hair is braided into two plaits; her blue eyes closing softly. 

“And Papa Elf said, grandpa was on the naughty list…” his voice was soft.

Suddenly Holly’s eyes widen as she remembers something. Her blue eyes are laser focused on Peeta. “Papá, es verdad que mamá estaba en la  lista de los niños malos?”  

“Y quien te dijo esto?” I ask from the door. We never discuss my role in Peeta’s adventure, or the fact that I was on the naughty list. Ever. 

“Santa,” Holly says.

Ese gordo, Santa has loose lips. I think about teaching him about keeping secrets until it’s time to explain to our child about the past. But before I can say anything, Peeta gives me a look. He always knows when I’m having evil thoughts. I sigh, and redirect my thoughts, because Peeta made me believe in love, joy, and Christmas.    

“Your papa saved more than grandpa that Christmas. He saved me too.”

Holly’s eyes lit up like her father’s before the sleepiness creeps back into their depths.

“Now go to sleep so Santa can come down the chimney.”

"Night, mama, night papa," Holly whispers right before she drifts off to sleep. 

Together we walked out of our daughters bedroom. Peeta slides an arm around my shoulders. He dips down and nuzzles my cheek. He steers me to the living room. I drag my feet. Peeta is up to something.

"Okay, spill it, Mellark."

He gives me a wide eyed smile.

The hair at the back of my neck stands up straight. 

He's got that look, that please tell me a bedtime story stare, and not just any story. 

"No."

Peeta pauses and gives me a puppy dog look with a full lip pout.

"No."

"Come on, Sweetums, my li’l sugar plum," Peeta says in an excited whisper.

"No...no don't waggle your eyebrows at me, Peeta. Buddy. Mellark." I pronounce each one of his names.

Peeta’s grins so brightly; his eyes shine brighter than Christmas lights. His hat is slightly crooked as he hops and does that stupid little dance of his that makes me want to tear off his green tights. Yep, I said tights. My husband was raised as an elf, a six foot two, blond, wavy haired, giant with broad shoulders, washboard abs, and is genuinely sweet. Sweeter than eggnog.

He grabs me by the waist. "You know you wanna," he says in that sexy time voice of his that's reserved only for me. 

Canasto! 

I should clarify for everyone listening to my tale; you should know canasto isn’t a vulgar or bad word. It means basket. But I like the way it sounds in Spanish. So I say it with real vehemence. It’s like peaches in Spanish sounds like a curse word. Melocotón! Tu eres un Melocotón! Which translates into you’re a peach. 

I digress.

I let out a big sigh. There's no way I can say no to him and he knows it! Canasto!

"I love it when you tell the story of how we met from your point of view.“ 

"You’re an evil gremlin," I say with no heat in my voice. It's my personal nickname for him. As in the gremlins when they ate after midnight. However to be fair, if you see Peeta, he’s not scary at all, he’s more like a big teddy bear.  

Peeta laughs and my heart flip flops. Because he is anything but; he is so congenial.

Peeta puts his hands on my belly, my very big belly. It's baby number 2; actually it's baby number two and three. They are counted as one until they're born. I know what he's doing, the evil gremlin! He's trying to distract me because I'm due to give birth. I have mild pangs because I’m carrying twins and I’m nearing my due date.

He carries me and sits me on his lap. “Now start from the beginning.”

“From the candy cane forest?” I ask.

“No from your point of view,” his eyes dance gently as he rests me against his chest, rubbing my bulging belly.

“Okay,” I say quietly.

“Don’t forget to start with once upon a time,” Peeta insists, trying to contain his excitement.

“Once upon a time.”

“This is going to be good,” Peeta whispers.

“Are you going to let me tell the story?”

“Oh yea,” Peeta placed a kiss on my nose. “Go ahead.”

Closing my eyes I picture the year things changed. Because everything in my life was about others and never myself. I was always trying to be someone else, what everyone expected of me. 

It’s hard being a foster kid, and getting out of the system is kind of like getting out of jail. Suddenly you have all this freedom, but you’ve been conditioned to follow all of these rules, so when you are free, you do one of two things. You get in trouble, and try to get sent into an institution; some of us call it the iron college. Or you try to keep your nose clean and learn in the school of hard knocks. In my case, I kept my head above the water for my sister’s sake.  

"I love my family," I muttered underneath my breath. 

I muttered it again as my sister destroyed, no scratch that, mutilated Mariah Carey's "All I want for Christmas."  

Did I forget to mention that I love my family?   

I do. I love my family and there's nothing I wouldn't do for them, but at that moment I wanted to scratch my ears out with dull spoons.  

My perfect baby sister is a smoking hot blonde runway model and the muse for Karl Lagerfeld, but she has the worst singing voice known to man. You want to torture someone, hire my sister, and have her sing to the person you want to torture. Within 3 seconds flat, she can have even the most hardened of spies spilling their guts like a canary.

The one thing I could not stand beside my sister’s singing was Christmas. 

I loathed Christmas.

I was not ashamed to say it.  Every fiber of my body I hated Christmas!   If I had ever met the real Santa back then, he had better hoped that I was not holding my bow and arrow, because I would have shot him through the eye. Not that I believed in Santa then, but if I had known there was a real life Santa Claus, I'd have hunted him down, and burned the fat man's jolly red outfit. I would then gleefully take a joy ride in his sleigh into his workshop like Bill Murray did in Groundhog Day when he allowed the groundhog to drive him off the cliff into a fiery death.

At this point you are wondering why I hated Christmas so much.

There were many reasons why the holiday was so contemptible to me. One, my father died on Christmas day. Two, my mother checked out on us that same Christmas day. The next Christmas Eve was when my sister and I were separated into different foster homes.  It took me a few months to find my six-year-old baby sister. I had been sent to a foster family who used foster kids for slave labor, to have them wipe and clean their floors while the Mrs. of the family spent the whole day in luxurious spas and getting botox treatments, as if that was going to improve her mug. 

My baby sister was luckier. Primrose was placed in a foster home in the middle of suburbia with a 2 story house with a picket fence. A woman named Cecilia and her husband Ronald had never been able to have kids, and they doted on my sister. They brought her up to be the princess she always said she was. Honestly, they were rather shocked when my twelve-year-old cynical self rolled up into their home screaming for my baby sister, Primrose. Prim came running out of nowhere and latched herself onto my leg like an octopus. Best Spring ever, so I do love the Spring. 

But before you think we were reunited, we weren’t. The family that had Primrose never wanted me. And even if they did, we technically didn’t have the same last name. Primrose carried my mom’s last name while I carried my dad’s. My sister was Primrose Emmerson and I was Katniss Everdeen. Our parents had a silly agreement. They were also foster kids, so they decided that I would take dad's name and the next one born would take our mothers name. 

They didn't have a family, and her parents lived in a common law marriage. Their childish decision caused havoc.There was a mix up and we weren’t processed as sisters. Plus, I never stayed in the same foster home for long so even if they wanted me, they never knew where I was, but no matter where I was, I found a way to talk to Primrose, because as long as Prim was loved and cared for, my situation didn’t matter.

After our brief reunion, I had to go back to the family that I was placed in, and my sister stayed with her family. I didn’t stay with mine for very long; I became a statistic. A rolling number on someone’s computer screen. I was bounced around from one family to another in all sorts of seedy homes. 

So you can see why I'm so jaded. Every bad thing that ever happened to me, has happened on that freakin’ holiday. And there was one more reason I disliked that holly jolly holiday so immensely. For some reason, the universe hated me. 

No matter where I went, what city, what town within the state, I could guarantee you that it was a racket, a billion dollar racket to make parents crazy and buy things for their kids they didn’t need. For some reason, it pleased people to take my olive skin, dark hair, scowling self and put me into a sparkly Christmas cheer, “gag” pointy eared elf costume.

So with a week until Christmas, I was listening to my sister butcher, another holiday favorite song. Then Prim screeched. And I sighed in relief.

"Katniss," Prim said, coming out of the bathroom. “The water is cold!”

I looked heavenward. “The pipes. I forgot they’re working on the water main outside. They said there would be interruption to service.”

“Oh, you know I can get us a hotel room,” Prim said toweling dry her pale blonde locks. 

My studio apartment wasn’t what my sister was used to. She was a freaking couture runway model, six foot one, so slim nothing off the rack fit her. “I’m sorry Prim, I was so excited to see you.”

Prim smiled. “Look, I only have a few hours left. How about I treat you to lunch before I go back up to Connecticut to spend Christmas with Cecillia and Ron.” Prim smiled at me. “You know you’re more than welcome to come. They always ask about you.”

I loved my baby sister. She was amazing. And I was damned glad that the Hendersons were an amazing couple, but I knew the score. They didn’t know what to do with me. “As long as you don’t mind me wearing my elf costume.”

Primrose chuckled. “You make the cutest elf though.” She patted me on the head using a baby tone with me. Prim was taller than me by a foot. I was tiny, or as Prim said, compact size.

“I could still put you over my knee, little duck,” I growled. “Así que mira ver.”

My sister laughed and she delighted in taunting me. Prim no longer spoke Spanish, but she understood the language. “You're adorable when you’re angry, an angry little elf, aren’t you?”

“Primrose,” I said in Spanish. I rounded my ‘r’s’ when I said her name. 

“Awe, I don’t don’t get why you hate Christmas so much.” Primrose winked going to the screen divider to get dressed. My sister was used to dressing and undressing in front of dozens of people. I, on the other hand, was not so free with nudity. Primrose said I was a prude. If I hadn't told her to use the screen, she would have changed right in front of me. 

“Did you know there are only three jobs an elf can have,” Prim said from over the screen. 

I sighed. Unlike me, Primrose loved Christmas. Hell, she even suggested that there might be a real Santa Claus. I told her the only people who look for ways to sneak into people’s houses are criminals. 

Prim continued her story about elves. “The type of elves that live in trees and make cookies, the types that make shoes, and the best type.”

“Let me guess, Christmas elves,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Prim grinned. She came around the screen wearing thigh high red boots, jeans and a camel tunic sweater that looked like cashmere. “Come on sis, let me treat you to breakfast so that you can go terrorize the children of Macy’s toy department.”

[futurelabs]

guys if you fear clowns of any sort, DO NOT open tumblr from desktop

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Dolly III

~ part 3 of the Dolly series

pairing: lee felix x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, elements of horror

synopsis: as a rare doll collector, a unique sex doll piques your interest and you have to own it.

wc: 8.2k

warnings: mentions of bruises, blood and needles, some violence, haunted dolls

nsfw warnings: grinding, praise, lots of kissing, body worship, handjob, cum tasting, oral (m and f), unprotected sex, creampie

~ divider by @bunnysrph

"Good morning, Matilda. Prudence, how do you do? Ah, Mr. Avery. Looking particularly swell today." the dolls stare at you with their big eyes and smiling faces while you greet them just like every day.

Whistling about the kitchen as you prepare breakfast, your life companions are always there to listen to you and bring you comfort.

"You know, we have an exciting new family member arriving to us today. I'm expecting all of you to act polite and give him a warm welcome to his new home." you point your spatula at the dolls that were decorating the kitchen.

"I mean all of you!" you yell out, chuckling after.

"We all know what happens to naughty dolls. You don't want to experience the same scorching punishment they did." you smirk at them and though they are usually silent, it seems like they're even more quiet now.

Alive in your mind, they've heard you and are now shivering in fear but anticipating the arrival of the newest addition to your precious collection.

You really do expect them to be on their best behavior.

Not long after breakfast, your package arrives.

You practically rip open the huge box and tear off all the covers and bubble wrap, throwing them carelessly behind you.

"Oh!" you gasp.

"My my, you're just such a beauty, aren't you?" you smile at the doll staring at you from the box.

"You look like a little angel." your hands cup his cheeks.

"So soft. So sweet. You're going to be perfect for us." you look at him fondly. "Welcome home, Felix."

You lean down to kiss his cute nose, observing the freckles on his face.

He is just stunning, every little crease on him looks perfect and most importantly; he looks alive.

Yes, people might be creeped out by your love of dolls, collecting them, playing with them and hanging out with them but you never cared.

They were everything to you ever since you were a little girl so you spent so much money on getting the most rare and unique dolls you could, even getting a few ones that were supposedly haunted.

The thought of that exhilirated you, and you were convinced all of them were alive especially after you'd find them in different places or hear them giggle and whisper.

You loved that, respected the dolls and their needs but you always let them know that you were the head of the house.

It was going to be the same with this special doll.

As soon as you saw the ad, you wished you could buy all eight of them and have the rarest and craziest collection ever but they were so expensive so you settled on getting only Felix.

He just seemed so sweet and innocent to you, out of all 8 of them, you thought he looked the most doll-like and would go perfectly with your porcelain doll collection; just one of many you had.

You didn't care much that he was a sex doll, but seeing him now up close made you understand the appeal for that too.

You grabbed the manual to skim over it, not really caring about what it says, you were more interested in the letter that was in Felix's hand.

You slowly picked it up and opened it.

Hello,

my name is Felix and I am your comforting doll.

I love cuddles, hugs and kisses, sweets (especially chocolate). And videogames!

Please always keep me close to you as I love to feel your warmth, and no matter what you do with me always end it with a sweet kiss.

"You're a little cuddlebug, hm?" you pout at him. "You're just becoming cuter by the second!"

Finding another paper tucked in the pocket of his jeans, you pull it out and open it too.

My darling!

I'm ready for our first cuddling session!

I hope you bring fluffy pillows and enjoy our first night together.

"Ah! So adorable!" you squeal. "Let me introduce you to everyone." you add, quickly grabbing him and lifting him up.

"Fam, this is Felix, a very special doll. I expect you give him a warm welcome and help him feel at ease here. This is now his home as much as it is yours and I will not tolerate any sour behavior!" you say.

Of course, it's quiet but you know that they've understood you.

One of the ventriloquist dolls lips open and you chuckle.

"Yes, Parker. I know he's pretty. Now close your mouth or you'll catch flies." you chuckle, standing up and making your way to the doll.

With your fingers on its chin, you gently close the wooden doll's mouth.

"Now, where were we? Ah, yes! That outfit is atrocious. But don't worry, sweet Felix. I already prepared clothes that I know will fit your pretty face perfectly." you smirk, hoisting Felix in your arms and lifting him up.

Once you make it to your bedroom, you gently lay him down on your fluffy bed and open your wardrobe, looking at the neatly hung up outfits you had ordered online right after ordering Felix.

The dolls on the shelves all stare at him as you whistle a tune, picking out his outfit.

"This should do it." you grab one of them and make your way towards your bed.

"Let's get you out of this... whatever it is." you grip the hem of his shirt, slowly lifting it up and gasping when you notice his abs.

"Interesting." you poke his stomach and then his side. "I bet you're ticklish." you add, sliding his arms out of the shirt and tossing it aside.

"Oh!" you gasp again, noticing a few freckles on his chest. "You're so precious, Felix." your finger traces his beauty marks gently, almost making you hypnotized.

You snap out of it and unbutton his jeans, pulling the zipper down and feeling your face flush when you realize your touch had aroused the doll.

"Did you get excited, precious dolly?" you giggle at him, before looking around at the other dolls who were fixated on Felix.

"It is rude to stare." you chastise them, but they continue looking as you slide his pants down and toss them on the floor.

"I think you need help with this, Lixie." you chew on your lip as you hook your fingers in his boxers.

As soon as you slide them down, a wave of embarassment washes over you as you stare at his hard cock, glistening at the tip.

It seems that there are a few freckles on his length too and your thighs press together involuntarily.

It's been a while since you've been with someone, most people you tried to date couldn't understand your obsession with dolls and there was no way you were going to choose them over your doll family.

But, seeing that Felix was a doll and a sex doll at that, you didn't see harm in using him for what he's made for.

"We can help each other, but you can forget about putting that inside me." you warn, lifting your dress up and pushing your panties down.

"This will have to suffice, my little Lixie." you giggle as you throw your leg over him and press your wet core against his cock.

Slowly, you start grinding against him, your arousal coating his cock and balls, little whimpers leaving your mouth as you close your eyes and throw your head back.

It really has been so long, and Felix is so warm and pliant, laying under you taking it.

You speed up as you feel your high building up, you look back down at him and notice that his cheeks are rosy, making him look even cuter.

You whimper as you stare at his pretty face, his tip catching onto your clit a few times and almost slipping inside.

"Don't be naughty, Lixie. Or I'll have to punish you." you whine as his cock catches on your entrance, the tip twitching inside you.

It's as if something flashes in his eyes and you whimper loudly, cumming all over his cock and riding your high against his throbbing erection.

"You didn't cum yet?" you pout, remembering there was something about that in the manual.

"Ah, yes, you like having your hair pulled on." you smirk and continue grinding against him, your fingers now tangled in his hair.

"Cum for me, my angel." you pull on his hair and his cock twitches against your wetness before he explodes on his abs, the warm liquid pooling around his belly button and making you more wet as you grind on him once again, his cum smeared on your cunt.

You look at him as you stop your movements, your heart beating fast.

"Look what a mess we made, Lixie." you shake your head before getting up and heading to the bathroom, the dolls chilling in your room still with their eyes fixed on Felix.

You come back after cleaning yourself up to clean him too, so you can dress him in the clothes you bought him.

It's a bit of a struggle but you get a feeling that Felix really wants to cooperate.

"There, now you look like a real angel." you smile as you lean back, satisfied with the white loose pants and the white shirt, embroidered with golden flowers.

"I have some work to do on you yet." you sit him up and then grab some of your makeup.

You gently work on his face, putting some light gold eyeshadow on his eyelids, a few sparkles under his eyes and he seems to be pouting.

"You think I forgot to give you a sweet kiss, don't you?" you smirk. "I didn't, don't worry."

You finish up on his eye makeup then grab a pink lipstick, opening it up and applying it on your lips first.

"A finishing touch." you lean in, holding his face before you press your lips into his heart shaped ones, kissing him gently.

You giggle as you lean away, removing the smeared lipstick and repairing what stayed on his lips with your finger as he practically stares at you.

His eyes seem shiny and warm, something deep and dark inside them too and you can't look away.

"My sweet Lixie. So good for me." you kiss his nose and then his cheeks, making sure to kiss his pretty freckles.

You almost get completely lost in him, forgetting about the dolls watching you until one of them falls down onto the floor with a loud thud, making you jerk away from Felix.

"Jonathan! You startled me!" you reprimand the wooden doll before standing up and coming to it.

You take him in your arms and look at him.

"Are you jealous?" you ask as you gently put him back in his place, fixing his shirt and hat.

"Don't worry, I love you all equally." you pat the doll's head before turning to look at Felix.

You have a feeling that might change soon.

-

You take Felix to your workshop, a small room where you dedicate your time to repair dolls, sew their torn clothes or make them new outfits, sometimes even making a few dolls of your own.

"Welcome to my workshop, Lixie. I spend lots of time here so I guess you will too. Now, I should've started with this, but you... distracted me." your eyes fall down to his crotch before you look up at him.

"I will make sure you have everything you need and I will always treat you well, but of course I expect that to be reciprocated. Which means you are to behave well in this house, listen to what I say and be good to your brothers and sisters. If you ever do something to break the rules, there will be repercussions. And trust me, you don't want to get on my bad side." you wave your finger at the doll and it seems like he's listening intently, his eyes seemingly fearful as you sit across from him, making eye contact.

"Don't be scared, Lixie. I have a feeling that you're a good boy and that you'll be obedient. We will have no problems, you and I. I'll even reward your good behavior." you smirk at him, caressing his soft cheeks.

You lean in to press a kiss on his lips before you turn to your table and start working on your broken dolls.

Felix stares at you from where you left him, his hands tucked in his lap and eyes fixed on your hunched frame.

You almost forget about his presence as you concentrate on your work, every detail you sew into their clothes, the love you pour into them, in a way giving them a soul of their own.

Your hands seemed to dance as you kept working, until you felt a sharp pain in your neck.

"Ow!" you mutter and sit up, realizing you've been hunched over for too long, your shoulders tense, pain throbbing in your neck. "Time for a break." you announce, your stomach growling after that.

"And food, I guess." you turn to Felix, finally acknowledging his existence.

He looks to you like he wants to say something, even though he is sitting still.

"What is it, Lixie?" you lean in closer, looking right into his eyes.

He stays silent.

"Ah, you're shy. You'll come around. I'll wait for you to show yourself to me." you smirk, kissing his nose, your fingertips tracing the pretty freckles on his face.

After giving him a little kiss, you take him to your garden, which was thankfully surrounded by a tall wooden fence, hiding you away from the rest of the world.

"Sit here and I'll be right back." you sit him down on one of the fancy chairs, brushing away the hair that fell into his face.

You bring a few of your other dolls, sitting them down on the other chairs, bringing all of them a set of china; plates, cups and everything.

It's all themed with pink flowers, making everything look even more proper and fancy.

"Socialize." you wave your hand before disappearing into the kitchen, preparing a quick lunch for yourself.

You walk out into the garden some 15 minutes later with a plate of food for yourself and a glass of juice.

"I hope you're being nice to Felix." you say as you sit down, eyeing the four dolls sitting around the table, Felix being exactly across from you.

He looks a tad timid, and you're 100% sure that the expressions on his face keep changing, you know you're not just imagining it because other dolls you own have changed expressions or positions, some even giggled and whispered.

With your doll experience, Felix doesn't scare you, quite the opposite, you're waiting for him to start talking.

You make small talk with your dolls, about this beautiful day, how sunny and warm it is, how good lunch turned out.

As you continued talking, suddenly one of the cups started shaking and you look at the porcelain doll sitting next to Felix.

"Jenevieve. Don't do that! Behave." you warn but it's too late, the cup flies right into Felix's side, hitting him hard before crashing onto the floor, pieces of it flying everywhere.

Anger bubbles up in your veins as you take a deep breath in.

"You little bitch." you almost growl at the porcelain doll before standing up abruptly and grabbing a fistful of her hair.

"That's it, you're getting punished!" you seethe, walking back into the house as you carry her by her hair all the way down to the basement.

"You're gonna think long and hard about your behavior. And after you do, you will apologize to Felix. Like it or not he is family now." you say before laying the doll in a box and locking it.

"I know you're claustrophobic. So this will be a nice lesson for you never to misbehave again." you smirk before making your way back upstairs.

You quickly run to Felix, gasping when you notice a single tear running down his cheek.

"I'm sorry, angel." you wipe it away quickly, kissing his cheek after.

"Let's see the damage." you undo his shirt and sure enough there is a bruise forming on his side.

"For this, Jenevieve will get a week in the dungeon." you say angrily, your fingertips brushing against the bruise. "I'll take care of you, sweet Lixie. I promise that'll never happen again."

-

The same evening, you brought Felix to your bed, stripping him out of the shirt so you could take care of his bruise.

You flip through the manual seeing the warning about not bruising the doll and anxiety washes over you, hoping he wasn't now damaged in some irreparable way.

You rummage through your bathroom cabinet, finding a cream that was used for bruises, skipping back to Felix.

"Well, you're warm, you can blush, bruise and cry. And... cum." you giggle quietly. "So I guess this would help you?" you purse your lips before taking some cream out and gently applying it on his bruise.

"There-" you pause, seeing a bulge growing in his pants. "Really? You're so sensitive." you tsked, your hands on his thighs, gripping the flesh shortly.

You look at Felix's face and melt.

He's blushing again, his cheeks rosy followed by the tips of his ears becoming red.

"You're such a cutie." you coo at him. "But you're gonna have to wait a bit. I have to take off your make up and brush your hair. I want you to be all comfy in bed." you nod to yourself, getting up to retrieve makeup wipes and a brush.

You start gently removing his makeup, leaving little kisses on his cheeks and nose, pressing your lips into his plush ones.

After cleaning him up, you take the brush and sit him up more comfortably so you can start brushing his hair.

"Oh you really like this." your eyes widen as you notice him twitching in his pants. "Like your hair played with, my pretty angel?" you twirl a strand of his soft hair between your fingers.

"Give me three minutes." you hurry to your bathroom to get ready for bed before skipping back to Felix excitedly.

"I'm here sweetie." you grab his face and crash your lips against his.

The way he was made, his lips seemed to be kissing back, so soft and sweet against yours.

You kissed him for some time, already addicted to his taste before you started leaving kisses on his jaw, all the way to his ear.

He only seemed to become even more red, the color seeping onto his neck and chest.

"My shy Lixie." you giggle, leaving kisses on the column of his neck.

He feels so soft and smells so sweet, making you want to do this forever, just kiss him everywhere as he lays and takes it.

You liked being in control, it made you feel powerful as your hands roamed all over his body, his skin so soft like a baby's, you couldn't stop touching him.

Your lips covered every inch of Felix as you kissed his chest, his arms, his stomach, his hands.

Taking your sweet time to worship him.

You slid his pants off, getting up to put them on the chair where you've already left the shirt.

Felix was blushing profusely and he was very warm as you touched him, his cock throbbing, the tip red and angry, glistening with his wetness.

"You're working yourself up, dolly. You need to calm down a little or I won't give you what you want." you smirk, sliding your hands on his supple thighs, up to his balls where you lightly grazed them with your fingertips.

His cock twitched in protest, his face even redder now.

"If you act naughty, I'll leave you like this all night. Don't test me, my little prince."

Felix's lips seemed pouty at that and you waited a little, only gently caressing his smooth arms, the redness of his face and body subsiding slowly until only his cheeks were rosy like before.

"Good boy." his cock leaked and twitched at the praise.

"Ah, my dolly likes to be praised?" you giggled delightfully, smoothing out his hair.

"I'll keep that in my mind." you winked at him, fingertips grazing against his length before you finally wrapped your hand around him.

"Good boys get rewards." you coo at him, thumbing at his wet slit.

Felix's ears become red again.

"I'll take care of you, sweetie. Don't worry." you whisper as you lean down, leaving kisses all over his skin as you start moving your hand.

You play with him for as long as you want to, torturing his cock as you alternate between fast and slow movements, at times using only one hand and then both or fondling his balls, your lips never leaving his heated skin.

You explore him with your tongue, swirling it around his nipples and noticing how he got even more wet because of it.

"So sensitive. Cute." you kiss his lips, your hand tangling in his hair.

"You wanna cum, dolly? Ah, I wish I could hear you beg, I bet you'd sound so sweet all desperate for me." you coo at Felix, gripping his hair and pulling it back as you jerk him off faster.

He explodes all over your hand and himself, making you gasp from the amount that spurted out, curiosity taking you over as you scoop some of it on your finger, licking it up.

"Mm. Are you strawberry flavored?" you chuckle, swirling your finger in his cum to lick at it again.

"Maybe cotton candy?" you giggle again before kissing him sweetly.

You clean Felix up and cozy up to him, curling your body around his as you wrap your arms around him.

You hope that from that day on, everything goes smoothly; without any more incidents.

The following week passed by just as you expected, with no incidents, the dolls now on their best behavior after they've witnessed Jenevieve being dragged down to the basement.

Felix became an obsession of sorts, you just couldn't keep your hands off of him.

You've never owned a doll like him, and to say that you're infatuated is an understatement.

Constantly kissing him and touching him made you equally as aroused as it did him.

You wanted him in every way, but you didn't want to use all his capabilities on your own, instead you wished he'd snap out of it and do it by himself, participate and react to your touches more than just heating up, blushing or twitching.

You felt sad every day you had to leave for work, leaving Felix alone with the other dolls.

You warned them not to try anything or you'd burn them to a crisp.

But as you finally let Jenevieve out, hoping she had learned her lesson, you had no idea how it would actually make all hell break loose.

"Now, Jenevieve I hope you're sorry for what you've done and that you understand why it was wrong. This can never happen again, okay?" you told her before putting her back in her place.

You sat Felix on your bed, caressing him and kissing him for some time.

"Be a good boy, Lixie." you kiss his forehead.

"And all of you too. Behave or else." you give Felix one last kiss before leaving the house.

It was obvious that some of your dolls felt neglected.

This was their home and in their eyes Felix was an intruder they had to get rid of.

He was taking up all your time, soaking up all your attention, getting all your love.

There were dolls that didn't agree, they liked Felix and thought he was sweet just like you did.

Some were just scared to share their opinion, afraid of being locked in the basement, smashed to pieces or burned into ashes.

The neglected dolls had come up with a plan.

They were going to destroy Felix so by the time you come home, there is nothing left to salvage.

-

"I'm home!" you announced cheerfully as you entered your house, a bag of groceries secured in your arm.

Whistling, you made your way to the living room but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a few drops of red liquid on the floor, something that looked like blood.

You stood in shock for a moment before dropping the bag of groceries on the floor, as they made a loud thud sound, the apples you bought rolling around your living room.

With a gasp, you started running up the stairs, all of them painted in little red dots, anxiety building up with each step you took.

When you reached your bedroom, a shriek escaped your lips, echoing off of the walls.

Felix was thrown on the floor, his body and face bruised and cut up, the outfit you dressed him in torn into pieces.

What was most concerning was the blood dripping out of his wounds.

Your heart started beating fast in fear.

Noticing Jenevieve standing in the corner together with some of your other dolls made your blood boil, your body starting to shake with rage as your eyes blurred with tears.

With a loud growl as rage took you over completely, you ran downstairs to grab your sledgehammer.

"I told you. I told you to behave!" you screamed at the culprits, lifting up your weapon and smashing the first doll that was nearest to you.

"How could you do this?" you cried, continuing to pound your sledgehammer on the dolls, damaging your wall and furniture in the process.

Jenevieve was last and you smirked at her.

"Goodbye, bitch." you said before smashing her into pieces, the sound of porcelain breaking was so satisfying in your ears.

"Do any of you have anything to add?" you looked at the other dolls coldly, the ones that didn't dare move from their designated place.

"Didn't think so." you added, fresh tears sliding down your cheeks as your eyes caught sight of Felix again.

"Shit!" you exclaimed, falling down to your knees and grabbing his face gently.

He was crying.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I left you alone with them Lixie! I will make this right, I promise!" you cried as you held onto him.

You ran to your bathroom to grab a first aid kit, running back to Felix as fast as you could.

You tended to his wounds, tears falling down your face onto his cheeks and mixing with his own.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." you kept whispering as you took care of him, worry growing inside you when Felix became colder to the touch.

"I think this one needs stitches." you noticed a gash on his hand. "How did they do this? I'll never let anyone hurt you again, Felix."

That night, you brought Felix to your workshop, sewing up his wound and hoping that he would heal just like the bruise from his first day here was healing.

You didn't want to look at your dolls, opting to take Felix to the guest room, the only empty room in the house, getting him all comfy in your fluffiest blankets before you joined him under the covers.

"I love you a lot Lixie. Even though it's only been a week. You're my favorite doll ever." you kissed his cheek before cuddling him, holding him close to your body as you felt him warm up.

A smile spread on your face.

He's going to be okay.

Over the next few weeks, Felix's wounds have healed nicely.

You've asked to work from home so you could be with him all day.

It was quiet in your house, all of the other dolls were now even more afraid of you, after your little sledgehammer revenge.

You cuddled Felix a lot, holding him close whenever you could, playing with his soft hair and doting on him the entire time.

His face seemed to change throughout that time, from an expression of sadness and pain back to happiness and his rosy cheeks.

Once he was fully healed, you decided to bake a chocolate cake to celebrate his recovery.

Of course, he was in the kitchen with you, watching you work on the sweet treat.

You had more than one sweet treat in mind, you thought, giggling to yourself as you swiped some chocolate cream on your finger.

"Mm. So tasty." you smirked, looking directly at Felix.

"You wanna taste?" you took some more, coming closer to him and pressing your finger on his lips.

"Come on, I know you want it." you smirked. "I'll let you taste something even sweeter later."

He didn't react in the way you wanted him to, but his face was quickly becoming red.

Sighing, you leaned back and continued making the cake.

Once it was finished, you decided to let it cool down and take Felix to your living room.

"Look at that. I didn't even touch you." you giggled, the bulge in his pants evident.

He was finally all well and healed so you let yourself explore his body with your hands and lips.

It didn't take long for you to strip him, your eyes glued to his pretty cock, all hard for you.

"You make me wanna do things I usually don't." you sighed, gently stroking him.

"But you've been so good for me, so I gotta reward you." you laid Felix down, kneeling between his legs.

You kissed his thighs, lightly biting into his skin and noticing how he twitched at that.

You wanted to taste him and have him in your mouth which is something you were usually uncomfortable with but Felix made you want to do all those things you thought you never would.

"My good boy." you praise him, your lips pressing gentle kisses into his leaking cock.

Felix's body flushed as you kept kissing and licking at him, your hands sliding slowly on his soft skin, mapping him out.

You kissed his tip, tasting his pre-cum, sweet like cotton candy and you couldn't wait anymore as you wrapped your lips around him.

Your tongue tingled from the sweet taste as you swirled it around his head, a moan escaping your lips and making him leak even more.

Felix's fingers twitched on his side and your eyes widened a little as you took more of him in.

Hoping he would move again, you started bobbing your head faster, taking him in deeper, moaning around him and creating vibrations around his throbbing cock.

His fingers twitched a few more times, every time his tip hit the back of your throat it seemed to make him move.

Determined to snap him out of whatever trance he was in you gave it your all, drooling around his length as you sucked him harder, your hand squeezing his sensitive balls.

Taking you by surprise, Felix came, filling your mouth up with his cum and making you sputter as you didn't expect it.

You managed to swallow some, the rest making a mess out of his crotch.

You knew he was supposed to cum only after you pull on his hair so how did this happen?

Now, you had an even bigger inkling that Felix was alive.

A smirk spread on your lips as you stared at his reddened face.

"D'you want a taste, angel?" you giggled, your hand between your legs.

"Yeah, you do." you added, gathering some of your juices before bringing them up to his lips.

You pushed your finger in his mouth, making him taste you.

"I know you like that, my pretty prince."

You gave him a few kisses before cleaning him up.

"We can eat some cake tomorrow." you told him as you laid him down in your bed, the guest room now becoming your room.

As you cuddled up to Felix that night, you had no idea that he would finally wake up while you slept.

-

Felix's eyes widened as he fought for breath, his heart beating hard against his chest.

He gripped at the sheets, fisting them in pain as his whole body hurt.

You were sleeping peacefully on your side, facing him and for some reason he was terrified.

Felix saw what you did when you got angry so he didn't want to upset you in any way even though you treated him well, so well that he knew he loved you as much as you loved him.

But with confusion and fear running through his veins, he decided not to wake you up, instead he got up quietly in search of food and water.

He knew that if he took something from the fridge, you'd know he was awake so Felix made his way to your pantry, his feet padding on the floor quietly.

On his way there, his knee collided into a chair and he cursed quietly, his eyes widening as he looked back to the direction of your room.

Felix gulped, listening for some time and after deciding it was safe he entered the pantry.

He found some cookies and in his hunger he devoured most of them, accidentally leaving the wrapper and the crumbs behind.

After drinking some water, Felix returned to bed, deciding to let you sleep and maybe tell you that he's alive tomorrow.

-

Waking up the next day, you started the morning like any other, kissing Felix's sweet face.

But, something was different this morning.

His eyes were closed.

"Hm." you looked at him and he seemed to be breathing but it was so early in the morning that you thought you had dreamed it up.

Suddenly, your phone rang, scaring you out of your thoughts.

"Hi, Jackie!" it was your childhood best friend, the only person who tolerated your obsession with dolls.

She didn't mind it much and she loved you for who you were, the two of you grew up together, going through all the ups and downs with each other.

"Hey, y/n! I'm in town this weekend so I thought we could catch up." she said cheerfully.

"Of course, I'd love to!" you sat up, momentarily forgetting about Felix as you made your way to the kitchen with a smile on your face.

"Great, I can't wait to share all the tea I have." she said and you giggled before noticing something weird.

There was a glass you didn't touch on the counter, and your pantry door was open so you walked towards it as Jackie yapped in your ear.

As you turned the light on, you noticed half eaten cookies on the floor, the wrapper pulled apart seemingly with teeth.

"What? Do I have rats in my house?" you chuckled.

"I'm not a rat." a deep voice said behind you and you shrieked, turning around, your phone almost slipping out of your hand.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" Jackie asked.

"I'm gonna have to call you back." you said as you hung up, staring at Felix as he stood before you with his eyes wide, a timid look on his face, his cheeks rosy and lips pouty.

His hands were clasped together as he played with his fingers.

"F-Felix?" your eyes welled up with happy tears.

"It's me." he said, the depth of his voice shocking you once again, you didn't expect your sweet angel would have such deep vocal chords.

"Oh!" you laughed in delight, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tightly.

Felix gasped at your onslaught of love as you squeezed him so tight that you knocked his breath out of his lungs.

"I knew you'd come to me eventually, my angel." you gently took his face in your hands, your thumbs moving back and forth on his cheeks slowly.

"Y-you're not mad at me?" he asks cutely, blinking at you.

"No, no, not at all! Though, you left a mess." you shake your head and his face becomes redder.

"I'm sorry, I will clean it up." he says timidly and you giggle.

"Oh, you are so adorable!" cuteness aggression takes you over completely as you pinch his cheeks and kiss his plump lips repeatedly, making him giggle.

His stomach growled and he looked at you embarassingly, his face red and you chuckled.

"You need a proper meal." you said, deciding to make the classic eggs and bacon combo.

You took his hands and led him to the chair, sitting him down.

"Let me help you." Felix beamed at you.

"It's okay, Lixie. I like taking care of you."

"I know, but I want to do the same for you."

You melted instantly, kissing him again, it was hard to be apart from him.

The two of you made breakfast together, albeit clumsily as he was still confused about everything.

After eating, the two of you sat in the garden, you with your cup of coffee and Felix with his cup of hot cocoa, two slices of the chocolate cake you made last night served on the fine china.

"What made you wake up?" you asked.

"I- I'm not sure. I tried doing it before, I only managed to move my fingers or toes slightly, sometimes my eyes. It was honestly like I was imprisoned in my own body. I wanted to- to reciprocate, hold you properly and take care of you like you do to me." he said, looking away as he blushed once more.

"Ah, you are so sweet my prince. Just how I imagined. I knew you were alive, I was just hoping and waiting for you to break out of the hypnotized state."

"You think I was hypnotized?" Felix tilts his head at you.

"Do you remember anything before coming here?" you ask, reaching out to touch his hand gently.

"I remember this big cold room. And water. So much water. And there were others but I can't remember their faces. We were all there in the big room. There was a voice talking to us, I- I don't know what it said. But I think it was giving out commands." the more Felix talked about his past, the more worked up he was getting, his hands shaking, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

"Hey, hey it's okay. You don't have to tell me everything right away. It must be upsetting." you quickly stand up, holding his face and caressing him.

"I don't wanna go back there."

"You won't." you smile, sitting in his lap.

Felix freezes, his eyes wide and lips falling open, his face taking on the familiar rosy color.

"Y/n." he looks up at you cutely and you lean in, kissing him lovingly.

"You're no longer just my dolly. You're my boyfriend now." you giggle and he smiles the most beautiful bright smile you have ever seen.

"Oh! I am?"

"Mhm." you nod and lean in to kiss him again, your tongue licking at his bottom lip and he opens his mouth, letting you explore him properly now that he's awake, your hand tangled in his soft hair.

"I love you, Lixie." you kiss the tip of his nose.

"I love you y/n. Thank you for everything. For being so good to me and helping me heal when those dolls..." he shivers.

"Of course. Sorry if I went a little crazy. I know I can be insane sometimes. It's just when I saw you like that on the floor, I felt my heart break. I needed to smash them into pieces so they can never hurt you again."

"No, I'm glad you did that. If I could, I'd fight back."

"I know you would." you smile, shifting on his lap as you caress his face.

Scooting closer to him, you feel him press into you.

"I'm sorry." Felix whimpers, looking everywhere but at you. "I know you don't want to... you know."

"I do. Now that you're awake." you nod and his eyes widen.

"Oh?"

"Let's go inside." you giggle at his shocked expression.

"W-what do I do?" Felix looks at you unsurely as you sit on your bed. "Usually you're in charge..."

"You can take the lead, angel. Whatever you had in mind all this time, you can do now." you smile at him, taking his hands in yours to reassure him.

"I wanna worship you like you do to me." he blushes profusely and you chuckle.

"Of course." you say, the two of you starting with loving kisses, layers of clothing slowly coming off.

Felix lays you down gently, looking panicked for a moment, like he doesn't know what to start with, and as his eyes travel all over your body, the redness on his face spreads to his ears and neck.

Ultimately, he decides to do what you did, leaning down to kiss your neck first.

You throw your head back, giving him space as his plump lips gently travel on your skin.

You close your eyes as Felix's worships you, his lips so sweet on your hot skin, his hands caressing you gently as he slides them on your arms, then to your waist and tummy before slowly going up to cup your breasts.

"L-Lixie." you whimper as he plays with your nipples before leaning in to kiss them, his tongue darting out to swirl around the sensitive bud before his pretty lips wrap around it, sucking gently.

"Ah!" you moan, arching into him, arousal dripping from your core.

Felix whimpers when his finger touches your warmness, feeling how wet you got just for him.

He finds your clit, gently rubbing it in circles with his fingertips as he continues sucking on your breasts.

"Want you." you whine and he lifts up.

"C-can I taste you?" he asks, licking his lips and you nod eagerly.

Felix leaves kisses on your tummy all the way down to your core where he presses his lips against your clit.

"Mm, angel." you moan, making him moan too.

His tongue darts out as he starts licking at you and your eyes roll back.

He groans into your core, already addicted to your taste as he spreads you with his thumbs, pushing his tongue in eagerly, as deep as he can.

Your legs tremble a little, your hand ending up in his hair as you hold him down.

Felix keeps grunting into you, his deep voice sending vibrations through you as he laps you up, his button nose pressing perfectly against your clit.

Being sensitive, you can't hold it in too long as you explode, your juices spilling on his lips and chin.

"You taste so sweet." he looks up at you, licking at his lips.

"Come here, I need you." you make grabby hands at him and Felix giggles as he slides up, slotting himself perfectly between your thighs.

"Are you sure?" he asks and you nod.

"Please."

"Anything you want, darling." Felix whispers.

You feel his tip caress your folds and you whine, wrapping your legs around him as he sinks in, slowly opening you up just for him.

You embrace each other, your bodies moving together as Felix makes love to you until you're crying and trembling in his hold, your nails digging into his back as he finally releases his warm cum inside you, filling you up to the brim.

That night, Felix got to embrace you just how he always wanted.

The next few days pass by in perfect bliss.

You and Felix are attached at the hip, always together, always in each other's arms, lips constantly touching.

You took him out on so many dates and he loved being outside, seeing other people enjoying their day too, feeling the warm sunlight on his face, the gentle breeze caressing his hair.

You'd never been this happy before, never having someone who had seen you at your worst and still loved you for who you are.

Felix also loved helping you around the house, giving you massages and doing everything he can to make you feel comfortable.

He even told you of the dolls who were always nice to him so you'd take them out in the garden to hang out with you and Felix on a nice picnic date.

Even your friend Jackie was happy for you, first asking you to explain how the hell did he go from a doll to a human.

"So, basically, you were alive the whole time?" she scratched her head, as the three of you sat in your garden.

"I guess I was."

"So, do you remember how you were made? Like, are you human or?" Jackie asks, her eyes widened in wonder.

"I honestly have no idea. As I told y/n, I only remember that there was a room and that I was suspended in water."

"It's all so peculiar." you shake your head. "But it doesn't matter. What matters now is that Felix is alive and he is safe here." you kiss his cheek and he blushes instantly.

"If you're happy y/n, I'm happy too." Jackie smiles at you.

"Thanks, J." you giggle.

The rest of the afternoon Jackie fills you in with all the drama that happened in her life since you last saw each other, both you and Felix entertained after getting a scoop.

That night, Felix falls asleep quickly and you stay up just for some time, caressing his face and admiring his beauty.

"Good night, my sweet Lixie." you kiss his forehead before nuzzling into him and falling asleep.

Felix's night is filled with nightmares, after opening the topic of his past with Jackie today, memories started flooding in his mind.

People in white suits, their faces unrecognizable. A huge ceiling with big silver pipes. Water tanks with bodies floating inside them all in fetal position. Connected to a machine with a steady beeping sound echoing off of the walls.

The feeling of dread creeping up his spine.

Felix woke up with a loud gasp, covered in sweat, his heart almost leaping out of his chest.

"Lixie? What's wrong?" you sit up quickly as he jostled you awake.

"I- I had a nightmare." his lips tremble, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"It's okay, it was just a dream." you embrace him as he nuzzles into your neck.

You caress him until he calms down.

"It was about that place, wasn't it?"

He nods at your question and you sigh.

"How about we eat some ice cream?" you try to cheer him up and Felix nods quickly, a small smile already appearing on his face.

The two of you are in the kitchen when a loud banging on the door scares you both.

Both of you exchange a fearful look.

The banging starts again.

"Don't." Felix shakes his head, his hands trembling.

"It's okay." you reassure him, making your way to the door.

When you open them, you see five men in suits standing on your doorway, all their faces devoid of any emotion.

"Are you y/n l/n?" one of them speaks in a monotone voice.

"Yes, I am."

"So you've purchased Felix, the comforting doll?"

"I did. What is this about?" you ask confusedly.

"We are here to take him. There's been a malfunction and we need the dolls back at our company."

You scoff at them.

"No." you cross your arms.

"Miss, it's in your best interest to cooperate with us."

"Who the fuck do you think you are to know what's in my best interest?" you frown as two of the men exchange unimpressed looks.

You groan and in an attempt to shoo them away, you lift your leg up and kick one of the men right in his shin.

He doesn't even budge, doesn't make an expression or a sound that would indicate he was even hit.

"Get her out of the way." the man in the very back says and two of them grab your arms as you start screaming and kicking.

Three of the other men walk inside just as Felix runs up to the corridor, hearing your screams.

"Y/n!" he yells out, as the men grab him.

"Felix!" you kick around, tears sliding down your cheeks as you try to tear away from the men but to no avail.

"Let him go! He's alive! I love him!"

"Please don't take me away from her!"

Both of you scream but nobody listens to you.

One of the men takes a big needle out of his suitcase and before you can react he pushes it into Felix's neck, injecting him with some kind of liquid.

You scream as his body goes limp and they lift him up, walking out of your house.

"You'll get your money back, don't worry." the last man says and you scream at him, your tears flowing like a wild river.

"I don't want it! I want my Felix!" you cry, running after them but they've already pushed him into the backseat.

One of the men holds you back as they all pile in the car, leaving quickly as you fall down to your knees and cry.

Your heart hurts for breaking your promise of keeping Felix safe.

Your mind races with a thousand thoughts.

What are you going to do now?

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @juskz @quokkacidal @chuuyaobsessed @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lixies-favorite-cookie @thelostprincessofasgard @linocvp1d

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

“𝐗” - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙿𝚘𝚛𝚗𝙳𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 | 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 | 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞

𝖈𝖔-𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍: @shawtycoreee

𝓇𝒶𝒻𝑒𝓎𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒷𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 - 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝑜𝓃𝑒

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱/𝔰𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡𝔲𝔩𝔢

⚠️ warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Kissing, swearing, pussy slapping, cheating, CNC, name calling, degradation, hair pulling, murder, blood, gore, ownership kink, rough sex, praise, change in POVs

📖 Famous porn director Rafe Cameron hires you to shoot a porno with your boyfriend at his big, beautiful house in Figure Eight.

🔪 "I'm her boyfriend," his voice cracks with nerves. He clears his throat, staring him down.

"Sure you are," Rafe smiles." 🔪

3.9K

Reader’s POV:

“What are you freakin’ out for, baby?” Trent scoffs, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You cross your arms, relaxing a little more in the seat as you kick your feet on the dash.

”Obviously, I’m freaking out over nothing,” you clip, rolling your eyes away and huffing out a frustrated breath. You look out the window, watching as the scenery changes—weathered beach shacks and hole-in-the-wall businesses of The Cut exchanged for the luxury of Figure Eight. Your stomach twists in nervous knots—a feeling deep in your gut that your life was about to change forever.

”This right here… This is the big time, sugar. You see where we are? This man has money. You wanna be a star, don’t you? You want the whole world to know your name. Right?”

“‘Course I wanna be a star, Trent. Rafe just freaks me out.” You twirl your hair in nervousness. “I don’t know. Doesn’t he creep you out?” You ask, feeling goosebumps scatter on your arms, uneasiness setting in as you get closer.

“I mean, the man has a starin’ problem, sure, but ain’t that his job? He’s supposed to be catchin’ everything. He directs pornos… Pretty sure that comes with the territory.”

“I guess,” you sigh, loosening up slightly at his explanation—a soft smile forming on your face.

Trent grins at your cooperation, “atta girl,” he purrs, lovingly patting your thigh. “You know, baby, at the end of the day, the director havin’ a little crush on you ain’t the worst thing in the world. If this goes well, who knows what’ll happen? Maybe he’ll keep askin’ us back. Keep feedin’ our pockets. You know I’m right.”

“You’re right,” you assure.

“Well, would you look at this?” Trent breathes as you drive onto the grounds of Tanneyhill, pulling up the drive, eyeing the mini-mansion before you. It’s gorgeous, perfectly groomed, the definition of excess. It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before, let alone fucked in. You suck in a deep breath at the monumental sight before you, riding an indescribable high.

“We’re shootin’ here?” You ask, an ounce of awe in your voice as you gaze upward. The two of you usually set up in some dingy motel on The Cut— the pair of you too used to sticky tiles, stained mattresses, and peeling wallpaper. This was far from the norm.

“What did I say, baby doll? This is the big time.” He shrugs brashly, flashing you a wolfish grin—you swore you could see dollar signs dancing in his eyes.

“The big time,” you echo, exhaling shakily. Trent leans towards, cupping your cheeks in his hands before kissing you softly.

“I know you’re still nervous, but you gotta settle down, pretty girl. You got that X factor… Don’t get in your head.” you nod slowly, drinking his every word.

“I won’t,” you whisper.

Trent looks at the clock on the dash, two minutes past two. He sighs before giving you one last push. “You're special, y/n. Ain't nobody else out there like you. Now, giddyup, time is money. Let’s go make some movie magic. Huh?”

You smile and nod, biting your lip in anticipation and excitement. Trent quickly steps out of the car, walking around to your side before opening the door. You step out onto the pavement, your sky-high Pleaser heels hitting the ground with a loud clack. You adjust your little cut-off jean shorts, pulling the fabric down before fixing your tits. You were ready— ready to star in the film that would ultimately change your life.

“You’re a fuckin’ sex symbol, princess,” he praises as he smacks your ass playfully. You blush at his words, a burst of sensuality swaying in your stride.

“I am, aren’t I,” you smile blissfully as you look up to the sky, basking in the North Carolina sun. The two of you stroll up the cobblestone walk to the front doors of the place, your nerves subsiding with every step. Trent lifts his fist to knock on the door but before he can even make contact, it fans open.

“Welcome,” you hear Rafe’s warm voice. He looks expensive; extremely handsome, his voice not doing him enough justice over the phone. “Come in.” The two of you step inside, eyes dancing around as you take everything in. “Didn’t think you two were comin’,” Rafe rasps as he slides a cigarette out from behind his ear, resting it between his lips.

“We’re five minutes late,” you whisper to Trent, who gives you a look of warning to shut the fuck up.

“If you ain’t early, you’re late,” Rafe breathes through his exhale.

“Sorry,” you mumble sheepishly as the blonde towers over you, looking down at you with a predatory stare.

“You got nothin’ to be sorry about, princess. You weren’t drivin’. Were you?” He asks as he hooks his finger under your chin, guiding your eyes to his. You shake your head ‘no’, batting your lashes at the beautiful man. “You’re fuckin’ stunning,” he praises as his crystal blue eyes stare into yours. “I’m gonna make you a star, honey. I promise,” he murmurs, making a small kissing gesture, before giving you a cheeky wink. Trent was right. This could be good for me. This could be it.

“Okay,” you smile up at him, feeling your heart start to race.

“First hallway on the left,” Rafe nods, gesturing down the way. The deeper you two walk into the estate, the deeper your amazement. Movie posters line the walls of the dark hall, porno cover after cover illuminated by the chandelier light fixtures from up above. All of them had the same name plastered in the top-left corner: Rafe Cameron. You look over your shoulder, watching as he watches you, feeling a little starstruck after seeing his successes. His eyes lift from your ass to your eyes, a smug smile tugging on his perfect lips.

“What’s this,” you whisper as you walk into the room, eyeing the setup: a two cameras on the ready, studio lighting, but no bed… Nothing. Your brows rumple in confusion as you look back at the director. “We’re shootin’ a porno. Correct? You expect me to get fucked on the floor like some kind of animal?” You ask, only half-kidding. Rafe chuckles in reply, amused by your sincere distrust in him. He let out a puff before pointing his cigarette toward the wall.

“See that, angel? Your friend goes on this side. N’ you will go on the other. There’s a camera ready to capture that pretty little face of yours. You see that hole right there. That’s a gloryhole. M’kay. This is just the first scene, though, honey. Wanna get this one out of the way. So—” he claps, rubbing his ringed hands together “—let's get started.”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Trent challenges, too prideful to let the little “friend” comment go.

”What?” Rafe chuckles cruelly, Trent's correction given so far after the fact that it’s laughable.

”I’m her boyfriend,” his voice cracks with nerves. He clears his throat, puffing out his chest slightly.

“Sure you are,” Rafe smiles. Trent’s cheeks flush with anger; you take your turn, silencing him, giving Trent a death glare. “Well, in this flick, you aren’t. She’s mine. Well, the brothels anyway. You’re just payin’ for pussy.”

Trent clenches his fists; his anger bubbling in his chest. “Yes, sir,” he mumbles, taking the higher road for the moment.

“Let me show you where you’ll be tapin’-”

“Do you want me to come with?” Trent interjects as his possessiveness starts to bleed through. He’s surprised by Rafe, that’s clear, unable to deny Rafe’s wickedly handsome looks, regardless of whether he is creepy or not. Rafe fixes his face, holding back a laugh as he catches your boyfriend’s newfound insecurities.

“Nah. I got it. We’ll start rollin’ in a second, lover-boy. You’ll keep your clothes on to start, then zipper down, cock out after I call action. We’ll go from there,” Rafe directs, his eyes never leaving yours.

“N’what’s she gonna wear?” Trent questions wearily as if you aren’t all aware.

“Jesus, fuck,” Rafe grumbles, just over a hush, getting more and more annoyed by the second. “We’re shootin’ a porno, kid. The fuck do you think she’s gonna wear?” He spits. “Are you a goddamn pussy or a porn star?”

“I’m… Sh-Shit - I’m a porn star obvio-”

“That was a rhetorical question,” Rafe taunts. “Pull your head out of your ass or I’ll find someone else to fuck your girl. Understood?”

”Understood,” Trent breathes.

“N’you… Looks like Trent’s stage fright is rubbin’ off on you. I’ve watched all your shit. Every last one of ‘em. Don’t let anyone get in your way. Aight?” Rafe throws his spent cigarette on the floor, crushing it with the heel of his designer loafer. “‘Specially that bitch,” he hums, his words like a secret. You look up at Rafe, giving him an uneasy smile as his large hand rests on your back, leading you out of the room toward the other.

You look back at Trent as the two of you walk out of the room, his emotions so clearly painted all over his face as he wears his heart on his sleeve. You give him one last look, a silent ‘pull your shit together’. He’s not gonna ruin this for me. Rafe guides you to the other room; that same hole cut into the wall, a bed flush with the division, a camera pointing down where you’ll lie. “You need some help gettin’ out of your things, sweetheart?” He asks from behind the lens, playing around with the angles. He turns his full attention to you, eyes trailing your movements.

“No, I’m fine,” you breathe as you unbutton your shorts, the splaying of the zipper making him lick his lips. He looks at you hungrily as you pull the material over your curves, cut-offs falling to a puddle at your heels. He stops himself from wanting to take you right then and there.

“Well, shit,” he praises as he steps closer, eyeing the minimal material of your panties. “These just might be too pretty to take off,” he hums as his long finger loops around the band at your hip, snapping it against your skin, making you gasp at the sensation tingling through your body. “Can I?” He asks as he plays with your panties a little more. You give him a nod, Rafe quickly running his rough digits along the fabric, tugging them to the side, imagining a cock ramming into your soaked hole. “Mmpfh… Shit. Off - Yeah. Yeah. Off, I think. Honestly, I don’t think I could make a mistake with you if I tried,” he praises, his low, husky tone laced with lust. Rafe loops his fingers around the material, dragging your panties down your thighs slowly. His fingers work their way up your leg, drifting under your tube top as if to take it off. “Pussy’s too pretty not to show.” You step back as you grab your top, pulling it off your body. The blonde smirks as you take the initiative, his eyes wandering to your exposed chest. Rafe lets out a hungry groan as your boobs bounce out, nipples hard from the chilled air. “Well, you look like a star, baby doll. There’s no denyin’ that,” he groans in a sleazy tone as he spins you under his finger, studying your curves.

“Thank you,” you add, cheeks warming up under his watchful eye, loving his attention. Rafe grabs your hand, helping you to the table, before lifting you onto the plush top. You gasp as he uses his muscles, pulling you exactly where he wants you with a heavy hand. Your heart beats faster, seeing his sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips at your reaction.

He walks over to the camera, checking the lens, catching his angle before adjusting to the perfect spot. “Alright, pretty. Let’s get this scene outta the way, and then we can all film in the same room. Yeah? I’m guessing your boy isn’t gonna make you finish like this. No fake orgasms. Clear? I need the real deal.” You nod in agreement one moment, jumping the next, as Trent's fingers graze the inside of your thighs.

“You doin’ okay in there, baby?” He asks softly.

“M’Perfect, Trent,” you chirp.

“You are perfect. Aren’t you, princess,” Rafe pipes in, shooting you another wink that has your breath hitching. Trent’s fingers press on your pearl, rubbing soft circles on top, prepping you as Rafe walks around to the other side.

Your eyes flutter shut as you try to focus on the conversation on the other side— just a jumbled mess of Rafe and Trent, nothing comprehensible. Music surrounds you, filling the small room with sound, that same noise coming from the other room as well, Rafe, setting an ambiance.

Trent’s POV:

“Focus on her… Focus on, y/n,” I chant in my head again and again as my fingers glide through her drenched cunt. She’s so fuckin’ wet. Wetter than usual. I know this pussy like the back of my hand. Someone got her excited, and I knew exactly who it was.

Sure, he’s creepy; we both knew that before we walked in, but I didn’t know he would be so fucking handsome. She wants to be a star. I WANT her to be a star, but I can’t get her there like he can. Anyone can fuck… He’s got the means and the power. Just gotta get through this. Gotta bring her home and remind her all the reasons she loves me, but is love enough?

“Trent? You good, brother?” Rafe asks, looking back at me like I’m some kinda fool. His eyes fall, his scowl shifting to a smile, but not at me, watching as my fingers toy with my girl's perfect cunt. My girl. Mine. I lift my hand to my mouth, suckin’ her taste off my fingers.

“Never better,” I rasp.

Rafe’s brows lift in surprise at the change in my tone. Even I hear it, boyish and insecure to deep and cocky. Fuck this guy. I slap my fingers against her cunt, making her whimper, letting Rafe hear her for himself. “Yeah, buddy. She’s ready, too,” I laugh, watching his handsome features sharpen.

“Alls you gotta do is fuck her. Think you can do that?” He asks sharply as he extends his hand, snapping and pointing to the mark on the floor beside him.

”You’ve seen my shit, Cameron. You know I got no problem with that; that’s why you’re payin’ me to fuck my girlfriend. Yeah?” I respond matter-of-factly as I step away from the wall, shuffling out of the frame.

A smile slides across his lips, his large, muscular arms crossing over his chest. “Absolutely,” he replies. “Just step in when I call ‘action’, Star Boy.” Rafe steps behind the camera, counting me on. “Action.” I walk toward the wall, taking her in like it’s the very first time.

“Well fuck,” I groan as I peek at my girl through the division, my cock painfully hard in my jeans from a mixture of adrenaline and arousal. Rafe shifts the camera, catching the scene as I lower my zipper, pulling out my dick. I smile wickedly, tongue gliding along my bottom lip. He may be hotter than me, but, fuck, if I ain’t hung like a porn star. I hold my long, thick cock in my hand, jerking myself at the sight of her, letting a needy moan drip from my lips. “You got a pretty pussy. Don’t you, slut?” I mumble.

I grab my fat cock, running my head through her soaked folds, coating my tip with her slick as I throw my head back. I trace my dick a little lower, tip catching on her tight hole, teasing her, stretching her out slightly with my swollen tip. She scoots a little closer, ass pressed even further against the wall, craving more of me. Good girl. My deep moan fills the room as I pitch my hips forward, filling her to the hilt. The music in the room is loud, but I can still hear her sweet noises through the hole. Hear that, Rafe?

“Goddamnit… You always this wet for your customers?” I ask as I pull out, slamming back in fast. “Or are you just this wet for Daddy?” I let out a laugh, desperately wanting to look back and see the look on Rafe’s face as her sounds of pleasure come through with every rock and thrust. I press my hands against the wall, using it as leverage to stroke even quicker, fucking into my girl fast. He wouldn't be able to fuck you like I can, baby.

I hear a whistle, catching my attention. I look behind the camera, but Rafe’s not there anymore. What the fuck? My thrusts stall; the hairs on the back of my neck stand up….

“SHIT!”

Reader’s POV:

The sounds of your pleasure flow like a song from your lips, breathy and soft, just like your audience loves. You break the fourth wall, looking at the camera for a moment, running your hands up your body, taking hold of your tits, squeezing them tight. You roll your eyes as Trent drags his long, thick cock out of your drenched pussy, slamming back in again, making you wail.

He takes a quicker pace, shifting his stance, hitting a new angle that has you seeing stars. His cockhead strikes your sweet spot with each stroke, bringing you closer and closer to your finish. “Yes. Yes. Yes!” You cry out, back arching off the bed as you cum all over your boyfriend's cock. He doesn’t let up, working you through your orgasm with precision, adding his fingers to your clit as well, your body trembling with overstimulation. You feel a second release, squirting on his dick, making an absolute mess in the other room. Trent taps your clit, making tears pool in your lidded eyes.

He pulls out, causing you to gasp at the loss of him, the man pointing his tip at your pussy, jerking his cock quickly, spurting warm ropes of cum on your pretty little cunt. Goosebumps spread across your body as his sticky cum slips down your folds. He traces his throbbing tip through you, catching the mess before stuffing himself back inside.

His large hand reaches through the slight space in the hole as well, pressing against the bulge in your lower stomach, making you whimper and whine. Your heart and stomach fall as that same hand drags back. RC etched into a gold ring on his middle finger, a crimson trail of red blood following on your belly. You scream in terror as he pulls out, you, crawling backward on the bed to put space between you and the man on the other side. “TRENT!” You shriek at the top of your lungs. You look through the hole as Rafe walks away, watching as he follows Trent, who’s dragging himself along the floor, trailing a thick streak of blood behind him.

Your hands clamp over your mouth, muffling another cry as Rafe draws back a knife, stabbing him once, twice, three times. Your eyes slam shut, and your body falls into a state of complete and utter shock. You look for a way out— the window or the door. He’d surely be walking in any second. Maybe I can jump out the window and run to the car? But I don’t have keys. Maybe I can just run. You leap off the bed, running toward the window, grabbing it, pulling it with all your might, but it doesn’t budge.

“HELP ME!” You cry out, snatching your heel off your foot, slamming it against the glass again and again, watching as a crack splits and starts to spider. “Yes. Yes,” you sniffle, relieved the glass is giving. You hit it even harder, sending shards flying all over the room.

You look over your shoulder, watching the brass handle twist out of the corner of your eye, opening slowly. Rafe stands there, staring back at you with dead, dark eyes, his crisp button-down and unzipped slacks a mess with Trent’s blood. You swallow hard, trying to push down the lump in your throat.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, playing it off like maybe you don’t know what happened in the other room. Rafe's gaze lowers, landing on the bloodied streak on your bare stomach, your cowering body telling a story all of its own.

Shit.

He lunges for you, and you bound away, sprinting toward the door, tears streaming down your face. "Rafe, please stop," your voice trembles.

"I just wanna talk..." His tone is calm and collected, more unsettling than not, as you grab the doorknob, jarring the handle open to no avail. You shake your head wildly, wiping your tears on your arm as he stalks you nice and slow. He looks down at you with crazed eyes as he foots closer and closer, holding his blood-stained arms in the air to induce calmness in you. "Don’t worry, princess," he whispers. “I’ll make it quick.”

You scream as loud as you can, your voice echoing through the house. You prayed that someone—anyone would hear you. "P-Please, Rafe. Please!" You cry, snot pouring from your nose as your emotions run hot down your cheeks. Your heart beats out of your chest as your throat closes tighter by the second. “Please," you sniffle, “don’t kill me.” Rafe grabs you, tearing you away from the door by your hair. Your entire body trembles against his broad chest, his big arms making it next to impossible to fight free. "Rafe-"

You're cut off as he wraps his strong arm around your throat from the back, his other hand clutching the knife. You feel the point of the blade prod into your back, nerves jumping at the feeling. You scream one last time, surrendering to the man, praying that he’ll make it fast. He pulls you right where he wants you, angling the two of you in line with the camera. You’re finished; this is the end. You begin to weep softly, hiccuping and sniffling pathetically, looking back at your horrified face in the reflection of the camera lens.

Rafe turns into your neck as his large knife traces up your naked body coated in blood. “Why’d you think I asked you here? Huh? Filthy fuckin’ whore.” He slides his blade across your neck as you give him one final choked cry.

“And cut…”

Rafe smiles, tossing the knife to the floor, the sharp tip piercing into the foundation. With your eyes shut tight, you slowly feel his intensity subside, his muscles relaxing as he releases his grip around you. “My girl…” His voice is like honey in your ear. Your terrorized face melts into a giddy smile as Rafe’s soft lips meet your hot skin, kissing up your neck to the shell of your ear before nuzzling in. You look back through the hole, watching Trent’s eyes shut heavily, the man reaching for his last breaths. You roll your eyes at the sight, relieved to be finally done with him. Fucking loser. I mean, how many orgasms was I gonna have to fake? Even if he tried, he didn't have it in him to make me famous.

“We did it, baby,” Rafe mumbles affectionately. “Fuck, the whole world is gonna be lookin’ at you. America’s new scream queen,” he drawls as he turns your chin, his soft, sweet lips matching yours. You groan as you embrace his warm touch, fantasizing about this new, upcoming chapter in your life. He’s gonna make it all happen.

”Did I do a good job, Daddy?” You ask through a breathy sigh, eyes twinkling.

”Oh, princess… I’m gonna make you a fuckin’ star.”

A special thank you to @shawtycoreee 💕💕💕 it was so much fun working with you!!!!! Your mind and talent is amazing. And you're the sweetest too 🤭💕 mwwwahhh 😘

Taglist (if your name is crossed out, it was not pulling up an account 💕💕): @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @cl4uus @theeternaloptimistt @starkeysprincess @gri959 @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @aariahnaa @pinkqutz @hyperfixationgirl @akobx @daryldixon83 @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii @oxpogues4lifexo @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @savayvayblr-blog @unrealmirrorball @romaescapes @cades-outsider @ch4rrykisses @namelesslosers @anamiad00msday @buckybarnessweetheart @floredaqueen

[slut4nicholas]

𝙊𝙃, 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙄 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄 | 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀

a/n: i haven't started the show yet, so I'm not familiar with his character in this show. please forgive my cluelessness during this fic.

summary: the reader goes to the church to confess to the priest that she recently sinned. however, the father decides to have some fun of his own.

warnings: mention of religion, 18+, missionary, loss of virginity, oral(fem & m receiving) fingering, nipple play, praise kink, pet names like doll,sweetheart,baby, mentions of anal, spanking, degrading, corruption kink, almost caught

˖⋆࿐໋

growing up in a religious household, i have developed a deep appreciation for my catholic roots. whenever I feel overwhelmed by sadness, anger, or depression, I find solace in the church.

today i couldn't help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt. i found myself hanging out with a boy, and things got a bit physical. even though we didn't go too far, i couldn't help but feel ashamed. i had promised to wait until marriage, but these uncontrollable desires keep creeping up. i've decided to go to the church to talk to the father about my recent activities and confess my sins.

as i made my way to the church, i felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. i'm meeting with father charlie, a young and attractive man who’s also the priest at the church, which is not something you typically expect in the church. i haven't had a chance to speak with him one-on-one yet, so im feeling a bit apprehensive about what our conversation will entail.

i open the big doors to the church to see it completely empty just to find charlie sitting down on one the church benches.

“hello there” he calls out.

"father, there's something weighing heavily on my heart that I need to share with you," i said as I hurried to sit next to him.

i can feel that irritating uneasy sensation in my stomach. I didn't even give him a proper greeting. the guilt was so overwhelming that it made me stumble over my words.

"what is it y/n?" he turns all of his attention towards me, his big brown eyes digging into mine, as if anticipating something significant.

“i don’t know who to talk to, i can’t talk to my parents about this especially my own father. i’ve been feeling really guil-“

he interrupted me with a gentle smile and placed his hand on my shoulder, assuring me that everything would be okay and letting me know that he was a safe person to talk to.

“father, i need to confess something. i kissed a boy, and he kissed me back. he started to touch me, but i stopped him. i made a promise to the lord, and i feel terrible for breaking it”

as the tears welled up in my eyes, i instinctively dropped my face into my hands, seeking refuge from the overwhelming emotions.

"hey, it's going to be okay," charlie said in a gentle, caring tone as he stroked my hair, trying to comfort me.

“now tell me, did you guys fuck?”

as those words reached my ears, i couldn't help but look up at him, shaking my head as the tears continued to fall.

oh no, i hope he's not going to make me feel even worse.

“no father i swear-“

"shh, no swearing in the church," he said, raising his finger to his lips with a smirk. the irony wasn't lost on him, considering he had just dropped the f-bomb.

it was so quiet for a whole minute, and I started feeling really awkward. i had come all this way hoping for some advice or comfort, but it seemed like he just didn't care.

as I stood up, charlie grabbed my arm, forcing me to sit back down. “i didn't say you could leave. where do you think you're going?”

he replied coldly, smirking, “always so forgiving. it's kind of pathetic”

i stared at him, utterly perplexed, not really sure what he was talking about.

“father, isn't forgiveness what the church is all about?”

“sometimes, but in this case, i really want you to show me how sorry you are. otherwise, you're just going to keep committing the same sin over and over again. you don't want that, right? you don't want your parents to find out how desperate their innocent little girl has become, do you?"

i couldn't believe what i was hearing from charlie. i never expected him to act this way, let alone say things like this. i was at a loss for words and didn't know how to react. all i could do was nod in agreement. the last thing i wanted was for my parents to find out.

“father, i think i should go”

"why are you suddenly so shy, doll?" his hand on my chin made me tilt my head to stare at him.

"you don't think i notice how you look at me during mass when I'm speaking on the stand? you've become so needy that you sometimes cross your legs to stop yourself from feeling those emotions you want to avoid so badly," he says while caressing my cheek, gently rubbing his thumb on my bottom lip.

"i know you think of me taking you to the point where you can't even think straight, cum dripping out of you while i use you for my pleasure. you don't think i notice that? the way you avoid eye contact with me”

“i don’t know what your talking about father”

charlie’s hand rested lightly on my thigh, sending a spark of electricity coursing through my body. as his fingers inched toward the top of my skirt, pushing the fabric up just a little, my breath caught in my throat. each slow movement seemed to stretch time, heightening my senses and igniting a thrilling tension i couldn't ignore.

it felt deceptively wrong—the kind of reckless abandon that sent a shiver down my spine—but the anticipation was intoxicating, and I craved more. my mind raced, caught between instinct and hesitation, as the warmth of his touch settled into a deep hunger, one i found increasingly impossible to resist.

i glanced up, searching his eyes for a sign, a cue that this was more than just a fleeting moment. we held a playful challenge, a promise of the passion we both knew was simmering beneath the surface. my heart raced with excitement and fear, the boundaries of right and wrong blurring into a sweet confusion. with every breath, i felt the world around us fade away, lost to the undeniable chemistry pulsing in the air. i didn’t want to stop it; I wanted to let go completely and dive headfirst into whatever was coming next.

“do you want this as much as I want this?" charlie's voice broke through the haze of my thoughts, causing my heart to race in an unholy rhythm. i felt his gaze resettle upon me, a weight both thrilling and terrifying. my mind was a jumble, each beat vying for clarity as i struggled to focus on anything but him.

his eyes—the deep pools of mischief and longing—held me captive, swaying me like a fragile leaf in a rising storm. the blueprint of his desires flickered behind those intense brown eyes, and my cheeks burned with a shameful blush. I could hear the hymns of the service fade into background noise, a distant echo that paled against the ferocity of this moment.

what was wrong with me? i shouldn’t be feeling this way, not here—certainly not in a house of worship. my skirt brushed against my legs, reminding me of the innocence i used to wear like armor, now discarded in the face of this ravenous yearning. charlie wanted me. craved me. it was a dangerous temptation that had taken root within me, whispering sweet nothings that urged me to give in.

the candlelit corners of the church bathed in shadows, the lure was overwhelming. each passing week at mass had been an exercise in restraint, a careful balancing act over a precipice of emotion. seeing him near the altar in his crisp shirt—as though god himself had stitched him together purely for me—seemed more sublimely wrong every time.

as his eyes swept over me, i wondered if he could sense the tension glittering between us, thick and electrifying like charged air before a storm. j licked my lips, torn between the sanctity of the aisle and the allure of his promise. "I need you, doll. I can't deny it anymore," he murmured like a sin freshly minted from temptation's forge.

i felt a tumultuous wave of conflicting emotions surging within me. the whispered prayers seemed empty as an overwhelming desire ignited like an uncontrollable inferno. "father” i gasped, but the air escaped me, filled with forbidden possibilities. despite everything, all i could focus on were his lips drawing nearer to mine, as if the world around us faded away, leaving only the intense magnetism between us.

in that sacred moment, beneath the flickering lights, surrounded by silence begging to be heard, we hovered on the brink of something vast and insatiable. would we give in? would grace curdle into passion? ignoring the whisper of consequence felt like my true struggle—should we tiptoe across this brittle line, or confess that hunger has only one unyielding answer? together.

as I processed what was happening, a surge of warmth enveloped me, and i found myself surrendering to the moment. his lips danced across the sensitive skin of my neck, light as a whisper but charging the air with electricity. a small moan escaped my lips, betraying the whirlwind of emotions stirring within me. i could feel his smirk, a secret shared just between us, brushing against my skin, simultaneously teasing and thrilling.

his hand roamed over my thigh, a firm yet gentle grip that sent a shiver cascading through my body. "that's it, such a good girl for me," he purred, his voice a low whisper that thrummed like a melody in my ears, both lustful and tender. each word dripped with a promise, igniting the fire kindling deep within me, blurring the boundaries between desire and surrender.

lost in this intoxicating closeness, i reveled in the sensations; the world beyond shifted and faded, leaving only his teasing caresses and the seductive intimacy that enveloped us—a balance of power and vulnerability, inviting me to cross the threshold into unknown territory.

"father, i really don’t think we should be doing this here. It just doesn’t feel right. what if we get caught?" i watched as charlie sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration, clearly torn between desire and caution.

"you’re right," he replied, his voice low and raspy, "but it’s late, and I don’t think anyone’s going to wander into the church at this hour. just relax, sweetheart."

i hesitated for a moment, then nodded, the thrill of the forbidden sending a shiver down my spine. i reached out, intertwining my fingers with his, bringing his hand to my lips and sucking gently on his long fingers. his eyes locked onto mine, filled with a primal hunger that made my heart race. i could see it in his expression—the desperate need to claim me, to tear away any barrier between us.

the air was thick with anticipation, and i could almost feel the weight of his longing as he shifted closer, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. the dim light from the stained glass windows cast a soft glow around us, amplifying the intensity of the moment. i could sense the tension building, a thrilling mix of danger and desire, as he leaned in, caught in the magnetic pull that seemed to draw us together like moths to a flame.

we were on the edge of something wild and reckless, and in that sacred space, everything felt possible.

charlie withdrew his fingers, his intention clear as he replaced them with his warm, teasing tongue. it slipped into my mouth, exploring with a fervor that sent electric shivers through my entire body. he held my neck gently yet possessively, urging me closer, deeper, igniting a fire that burned between us.

i kissed him back with equal intensity, a thrilling battle for dominance that left us both breathless. the taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and urgency that made my heart race. every flick of his tongue ignited a wave of pleasure, pooling low in my belly and making it almost impossible to think straight.

the heat of the moment consumed me; i could feel my body responding instinctively to his every move. the sweet tension built inside me, and i knew i needed him—needed to feel him against me, to drown in that wild connection we shared. my panties were already soaked, a testament to the overwhelming desire coursing through my veins.

charlie pushes my panties to the side allowing his already wet fingers from my saliva to dance around my clothed heat growling like a predator hungry for its prey “let me show you how a real man is supposed to make you feel darling, those little boys wouldn’t know how to handle something so precious like you. i can make you feel so good you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for days”

as he pumps his fingers in out of me the sweet sounds filling up the quiet church was enough for the both of us to go crazy “more father please” he smirked at my neediness removing his fingers out of me putting them up to mouth to signaling me to suck the sweet juices off of his fingers then going back in for a quick rub of my clit

charlie stood up getting ready to unbuckle his pants but before he could even do that a voice filled up the quiet room which caused me to jump and act quick closing my legs and hiding my exposed area “father charlie i’ve been looking everywhere for you” an older lady shouts from across the room as she appears to be in desperate need of his help

he sighed and i took that as my sign to leave before we both do something we might regret later, charlie keeps his gaze on me the entire time “hi, ill be with you in a moment” he spoke up the lady stops in her tracks wondering what a young woman was doing here at almost midnight with the priest of the church she was curious but nothing crossed her mind as she was desperate to talk to the priest

charlie followed me out of the church closing the door behind us “this isn’t over sweetheart” he placed a kiss on my forehead as he walked back into the church.

˖⋆࿐໋

a/n: omggg i hope you guys like this!! i’ve spent almost a day and a half working on this just for you all especially the person who requested this, i will be making this into a little series since it was getting pretty long! anyways i really hope you guys enjoyed this, remember feel free to request anything!

[cumironi]

. . . KAWAI, HENTAI, BOOBIESSS!

ME AND YOUR GIRLFRIEND PLAYING DRESS-UP IN HOUSE, I GIVE YOUR GIRLFRIEND CUNNILINGUS IN MY COUCH!

shoko ieiri. it just happened that the girl hated satoru gojo so much that day, so she decided to give his girlfriend— you, a little fun, on her couch.

warning. cunnilingus, cheating, fingering, overstimulated, gxg, squirts, name-calling, pet names.

wc. 3,8k

𝜗𝜚. please don't judge me, it is my first time writing gxg and i'm trying my best to picturing it without overdoing it because i never experienced it. 🥹

in shoko’s cozy apartment, you and shoko were rummaging through her impressive wardrobe, trying to put together the perfect outfit for your date with satoru gojo, your lovely boyfriend. shoko’s playful mood had shifted into one of frustration as the conversation turned to satoru’s recent behavior.

“i just don’t get it,” shoko huffed, sorting through a pile of accessories with a frown. “why does he always have to be so late? It’s like he thinks time is a suggestion, not a rule.” you laughed softly, trying to lighten the mood. “you know how he is. he’s probably just caught up in something.”

shoko’s irritation didn’t fade. “caught up in something or not, it’s still rude. you deserve someone who respects your time.” before you could respond, shoko’s phone buzzed. she glanced at the screen and rolled her eyes, “speak of the devil.”

you peered over her shoulder at the message from satoru, apologizing for being late and asking if he could still meet up. shoko’s face darkened with annoyance, “seriously?” she muttered, her voice laced with irritation, “he’s been late three times in a row now. i’m about ready to give him a piece of my mind.”

you placed a comforting hand on shoko’s shoulder, “he does mean well. maybe something came up unexpectedly. let’s give him the benefit of the doubt.”

shoko sighed, her anger slightly diffused by your support, “i guess. but if this happens again, i’m going to have to set him straight. it’s not just about being punctual; it’s about showing you that he values your time.”

you nodded in agreement, understanding where shoko was coming from. “i appreciate you looking out for me. let’s focus on getting me ready for the date.”

shoko’s demeanor softened as she focused on helping you choose the right outfit. her frustration didn’t fully disappear, but she channeled it into finding the perfect look that would impress satoru and show him that you were worth his time or she might steal you from him.

as you tried on various outfits, shoko offered advice with a mix of seriousness and subtle jabs aimed at satoru. “this outfit is great—perfect for making an impression. let’s just hope satoru shows up on time to see it.”

shoko eyes focusing on your cleavage— seems like she can't stop her eyes from looking at the peak of your breast. with a small blush creeping onto her cheeks, shoko quickly looks away from your chest, pretending to be interested in the clothes hanging in front of her. “umm... i think this one might work,” she says, holding up a dress with a deep v-neck that accentuates your curves nicely.

her gaze flickers back towards your chest, unable to resist another glance despite herself. “it really brings out your... figure,” she murmurs under her breath before quickly clearing her throat and attempting to refocus on the task at hand.

blushing even more intensely now, shoko stammers out an apology while avoiding eye contact. “i-i'm sorry, i didn't mean to stare...” she busies herself with folding the rejected outfits neatly, hoping that by keeping her hands occupied she can distract herself from her wandering eyes.

but even as she tries to regain control of the situation, there's a noticeable shift in her demeanor— one that suggests she might not entirely regret looking at you like that. after all, what harm could come from admiring such beautiful curves?

“um... maybe we should try this one?” she asks tentatively, pulling out another dress that reveals even more of your cleavage than the previous one. “it's okay,” you smile at her kindly. you take off the dress without turning your back on her, now fully showing her your naked breasts. her eyes widen in shock as you suddenly strip down completely, exposing your bare breasts to her gaze. for a moment, she freezes, unsure of how to react.

then, almost against her will, her gaze drops to your nipples, which hardens slightly in the cool air of the room. a soft gasp escapes her lips as she takes in the sight of your pink, erect buds. slowly, shoko raises her eyes back up to meet yours, a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and perhaps even arousal flickering in their depths. she swallows hard, her mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“i... um... wow,” she manages to stammer out, her voice barely above a whisper. “you're so beautiful...” without thinking, she reaches out a trembling hand, hesitating only briefly before gently cupping one of your breasts. as her fingers make contact with your soft flesh, a shiver runs down shoko's spine. she squeezes your breast gently, marveling at its weight and suppleness.

“you feel amazing,” she whispers, her thumb brushing lightly over your nipple. the sensitive bud stiffens further under her touch, sending tingles throughout your body. unable to resist, shoko leans in closer, her warm breath ghosting over your skin. slowly, teasingly, she darts out her tongue and gives your nipple a quick lick.

a moan slips past your lips at the sensation, encouraging shoko to continue her exploration. she kisses along the swell of your breast before taking your nipple into her mouth, sucking and nibbling on the hardened peak. meanwhile, her other hand drifts downwards, tracing the curve of your waist and hip before settling on your ass.

shoko brings her feet to slowly move behind you until your back touching her chest— one hand still not leaving your breast before her other hand joining. she squeeze your breast lightly, fingers flicking your nipples from time to time.

shoko wraps her arms around your torso, pressing her soft body firmly against your back. her ample bosom squishes against your shoulders, making you acutely aware of her every movement. feeling bold, shoko's hands roam freely over your exposed skin, occasionally dipping lower to caress your sides or hips. her fingers continue to tease and pinch your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

murmuring softly against your ear, shoko's hot breath sends shivers down your spine, “you have such a beautiful body... i want to explore every inch of it.” her words are punctuated by gentle bites along your neck and shoulder, each nip causing your heart to race faster.

shoko's hands begin to wander lower, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt to stroke the smooth skin of your thighs. her fingers dance closer to your pussy, teasing the edges of your underwear. “mmm, you're so wet already,” she purrs, her nose nuzzling the side of your neck as she inhales your scent deeply, “i can smell how much you want me.”

with a deft motion, shoko tugs your panties aside, exposing your slick folds to her eager touch. two fingers delve between them, stroking your clit in slow, deliberate circles. “let me make you feel good,” she coos, her voice dripping with desire, “i want to hear you moan my name."

encouraged by your moans, shoko intensifies her movements, rubbing your clit harder and faster. her fingers slip easily through your slick folds, exploring every nook and cranny of your heated pussy. “ohh, you're so tight,” she groans, thrusting two fingers inside you. the stretch sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.

her other hand leaves your breast momentarily to join in the fun, sliding down to fondle your clit directly. the dual stimulation has you writhing against her, desperate for more, “please don't stop,” you beg breathlessly, “i need it.”

you throw your head back to her shoulder. hands gripping tightly on her arms as if your pleasure depends on it. your eyes flickering caused by the pleasure hugging your body. “oh, fuck. .” you moan into the air.

hearing your moans of pleasure, shoko becomes even more insatiable. her fingers pump in and out of you rhythmically, hitting spots that send shocks of delight surging through your entire being. her free hand snakes down to join the first, doubling the pleasure as both thumbs work relentlessly on your swollen clit. the dual assault has you bucking wildly against her, seeking friction where you can get it.

“that's it baby, let go,” she encourages, leaning down to whisper hotly in your ear, “come for me.” driven by your pleas and the intoxicating scent of your arousal, shoko redoubles her efforts. with each thrust of her fingers and rub of her thumbs, she brings you closer to the edge. with your raw moans, shoko's excitement grows exponentially. her fingers work you relentlessly, curling within you to hit that sweet spot deep inside.

“fuck yeah, just like that,” she growls, biting down gently on your earlobe, “let go for me.” the intensity of her touches drives you wild; her firm grasp on your arms is the perfect anchor amidst the storm of sensations coursing through your body.

suddenly, she adds a third finger, stretching you wider as she pumps them in and out rhythmically. simultaneously, she rubs your swollen clit mercilessly. “you're going to cum soon,” she predicts confidently, “and i want to be here when it happens.” the combination of her dirty talk and expert touches proves too much to bear. your inner walls clamp down around her invading fingers as an intense orgasm rips through you.

“yes! yes!” you cry out, shaking uncontrollably in her embrace. “don't stop!” shoko continues pumping her fingers vigorously, drawing out your climax until you collapse limply against her, spent and satisfied.

“that was incredible,” she praises, peppering your neck with soft kisses. “your pussy felt amazing squeezing my fingers like that.” gently withdrawing her hand, shoko brings her glistening digits to her mouth, sucking your juices off with a contented hum, “delicious.”

as your breathing slows, shoko tenderly strokes your flushed cheeks and neck, soothing away the remnants of your orgasmic high. her own arousal is palpable— evident in the way she presses herself against you, seeking friction where there wasn't any before.

“i want you,” she confesses quietly but urgently, “will you let me taste you?”

without waiting for a reply, shoko pushes you to the couch, gently landing your body on the soft material before dropping down onto her knees between your legs. her hands grip your hips firmly as she pulls you towards her awaiting mouth. once you're positioned to her liking, shoko leans in, dragging her tongue up the center of your slit in a long, slow lick. she savors the taste of your arousal, humming in approval at the flavor.

“mmm, even better than i imagined,” she murmurs against your sensitive flesh before diving back in for another lap, this time focusing on your throbbing clit. her tongue swirls around the bud, applying just the right amount of pressure to send sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerve endings. as she works you over, shoko's hands roam your body, kneading your breasts and tweaking your nipples.

“please let me make you cum again,” she pleads between licks, “i need to feel you lose control for me.” driven by her desperation to please you, shoko redoubles her efforts, alternating between licking and sucking on your clit while plunging two fingers deep inside your still-quivering pussy.

“oh god, you taste so fucking good,” she gasps, her own arousal leaking down her thigh as she loses herself in the act of worshipping your body, “i could do this all day.”

picking up speed, shoko fucks you with her fingers, curling them to hit that magic spot that makes your toes curl and back arch. at the same time, she increases the suction on your clit, sending you hurtling towards another explosive climax. “cum for me, baby,” she urges, her voice strained with lust, “fill my mouth with your juice.”

she doesn't seems willing to stop, still can't get enough of your taste on her tongue and heart. she looks up to you, seeing your fucked-face, eyes drop low and chest moving rigid, trying to catch your breath.

“do you ever squirt?” she ask, giving your clit a kitten lick. you didn't even get a chance to answer when you feel you leg shaking, “fuck!—” sometimes catch you breath as you arch your back and took a fistful of shoko's long brown hair. the action make the girl moan and groan on your clit.

at the sudden tangle of your fingers in her hair, shoko lets out a needy whimper, her own desire spiking at the dominant display. she gazes up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, panting softly as she continues to lap at your oversensitive clit.

“i've never seen you come undone like this,” she breathes, nuzzling her face into your heat, “it's so hot.” emboldened by your reaction, shoko begins to suckle more insistently on your clit, her tongue darting out to flick the hypersensitive bud. the sensation sends jolts of electricity straight to your core, making your already quivering thighs clench.

“squirt for me,” she urges, her voice a husky purr, “drench my face with your cum.” with each thrust of her fingers and lap of her tongue, shoko coaxes more and more moans from your lips until they merge into one long, drawn-out sigh. the sensation builds quickly, making your thighs quiver and your pussy clench tighter around her fingers.

“i think you might be close,” she whispers against your slick folds, “are you gonna give it to me?” feeling your impending orgasm approaching, shoko intensifies her efforts, doubling down on her relentless assault. her tongue darts and flicks mercilessly against your swollen clit, while her fingers pump in and out of your dripping cunt, hitting every sweet spot.

“come on, baby,” she encourages, her voice muffled by your pussy. “let go. show me how much you love this.” with a final, desperate suck, shoko draws you over the edge. a loud moan tears itself from your throat as your entire body convulses in pleasure. “s-so good, mmh-mmm, fucking goo-oh!” your pussy squeezes tight around her fingers, pulsating rhythmically as wave after wave of euphoria washes over you.

caught in the throes of ecstasy, you barely register shoko's triumphant cry as she laps up every last drop of your sweet release. eager to savor every last drop, shoko laps up your juices with gusto, not stopping until your spasms subside. she then slowly rises, standing between your spread legs with a satisfied smirk on her lips.

“that was amazing,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that.” despite the mess, shoko makes no move to clean herself up. instead, she leans down and gives your thigh a gentle kiss, marking you as hers— more likely stealing you from gojo satoru.

“but i'm not done yet,” she teases, sliding her fingers out from within you and bringing them to her lips. “taste so fucking good, can't get enough of you baby,” with a sly grin, shoko brings her glistening fingers to your lips, holding them there expectantly. as you part your mouth to accept the intimate offering, she pushes them past your lips, letting you taste the essence of your own arousal mixed with her saliva.

“don't you agree it tastes divine?“ she purrs, her voice thick with satisfaction. “now open wide for me,” demanding that you taste what she had been enjoying moments ago. the tangy sweetness of your cum coats her fingertips, leaving a salty residue on your tongue.

once you comply, shoko slides her fingers into your mouth, gently probing your tongue with them. the dual stimulation sends a thrill through your body, leaving you weak and pliant beneath her. her other hand ventures downwards, tracing teasing circles along your inner thigh before dipping lower. this time, instead of plunging her fingers inside you, she focuses on your clit, rubbing it gently with the pad of her thumb. “you're so responsive,” she murmurs, watching your reactions closely. “do you want more?”

nodding your head like obedient dog, your eyes watering, “please. . . want more,” you beg her. shoko chuckle, “look at you acting like a little slut,” her lazy eyes never leaver yours. at the same times, her phone ringing and your boyfriend name pop up. gladly she accepted the call before putting her phone aside, purposely letting your boyfriend hear what a slut his girlfriend is and doesn't have any attention to let you know that your boyfriend is listening.

“you ask for it,” shoko sweetly said before pushing your tight upward, “now open your leg wider, baby,” she command and you happily follow. she land your thigh on her shoulder. lean down to spitting on your pussy and a soft moan left your glisten lips. you don't realize how your boyfriend listening on the other side.

a sound of shoko's hand slapping your overstimulated pussy echoes follow by your moan. “oh fuck!” gojo hear your whimpering voice. as soon as you utter those words, shoko's eyes light up with mischief. she grins wickedly, clearly relishing the power she holds over you in this moment.

“look at you, begging like a bitch in heat,” she taunts playfully, her fingers trailing along your slit. “i bet you'd let anyone touch this greedy little cunt, wouldn't you?” shoko punctuates her question with a sharp slap to your sensitive mound, eliciting a yelp from your lips. before you can recover, she pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you nearly in half and exposing your dripping hole completely. her voice dripping with lust, “i'm going to feast on this pretty pussy until you scream.”

as shoko's palm connects with your sensitive flesh, another sharp slap resounds through the room, followed by your high-pitched whine. her eyes light up with sadistic glee at the thought of gojo listening in on their depraved activities. shoko dives in, burying her face between your thighs. her tongue delves deep into your folds, lapping up your arousal with reckless abandon. she sucked hard on your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your trembling body.

“oh fuck, fuck— ahh!” gojo hears your muffled cries as shoko devours you whole, “yes, just like that!” the sounds of shoko's slurping and your moans fill the room, creating an erotic symphony that gojo cannot tear himself away from. he listens intently, his cock twitching in anticipation as he imagines shoko's skilled mouth on him next.

shoko pulls back momentarily, her lips shiny with your juices. she looks up at you with a hungry gaze, her eyes dark with lust, “i want to make you cum again.”

“please— fuck, please don't stop,” you begging.

shoko smirks at your desperate pleas, knowing full well the power she wields over you at this moment. she returns to feasting on your pussy with renewed vigor, her tongue darting in and out of your clenching folds. “such a good little slut for me,” she purrs, the vibrations of her words sending tremors through your core, “i'm going to milk this cunt dry.”

with that promise, shoko redoubles her efforts, sucking harder on your throbbing clit while thrusting two fingers knuckle-deep into your slick channel. she curls them just right, stroking that magic spot inside you that makes your vision blur and toes curl. “fuck, yes! right there! faster. . .” gojo hears you scream, your voice hoarse from pleasure. “i-i— don't stop, please!” shoko continues to ravage your pussy with unrelenting intensity, her fingers pumping in and out of you as her tongue working overtime on your clit. she can feel your walls starting to flutter around her digits, signaling your impending orgasm.

“that's it, cum for me,” she growls against your soaked flesh, her breath hot against your sensitive skin. with a final, brutal suck on your clit, shoko sends you careening over the edge. your body convulses, a high-pitched wail escaping your lips as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

“oh my god, oh fuck— yes, yes. . .” gojo hears your voice rise to a fever pitch, your words barely coherent as your orgasm rips through you. shoko laps up your release greedily, milking you for every last drop. as your climax subsides, shoko slowly withdraws her fingers from your spent channel, bringing them to her lips to clean off the evidence of your pleasure. she savors the taste of your arousal, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips.

“you are even sweeter after i make you cum three times,” she murmurs, her eyes glinting with mischief, “so fucking good.” shoko rises to her feet, towering over you in a dominant pose. she reachdown to help you sit up, her touch gentle but firm. “now, let's get you cleaned up and presentable,” she says, her tone taking on a playful edge, “we can't have you looking like a mess when gojo gets here, now can we?”

with that, shoko grabs a washcloth and begins wiping away the remnants of your passion, her touch both soothing and intimate. she took her phone that lying flat on the floor before pressing the electronic against her ear, smiling as she looks down at you.

“satoru..” she sang happily, “i hope you don't mind me having a little fun with your girlfriend,” her voice dripping with mocking even though soft smile kissing her as she looks at you, “that's what you get for fucking pissing me off.” satoru's angry voice comes through the speaker, causing shoko to giggle softly. she runs a hand through your hair, keeping her eyes locked on yours as she continues the call.

“satoru, darling, don't be so dramatic,” she coos, her tone sugary sweet despite the mischievous glint in her eye. “i was just giving your precious girlfriend a little attention. after all, you've been neglecting her lately,” shoko leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “besides, she seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. maybe you should take some pointers from me on how to satisfy a woman properly.”

satoru growls in response, but shoko merely laughs, unconcerned by his anger. “oh, don't worry, i won't tell if you don't,” shoko ends the call, tossing her phone aside with a nonchalant flick of her wrist. she turns her attention back to you, a devilish grin spreading across her features.

“well, that was entertaining,” she muses aloud, running her fingers down your side in a teasing manner. “but enough about satoru. let's focus on making sure you're ready for him.” shoko helps you to your feet, steadying you as your legs wobble beneath you. she leads you to the bathroom, where she begins running a warm bath.

[yan-lorkai]

Fae/faerie Jade trying to get lost reader's name and her being like '🤨 uh, no, give me yours first, let's trade' without knowing that's basically like betrothing herself with him

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: Lowkey I believed faes/fairies used to exist when I was kid lol. And I'm telling y'all this because I had a dream quite similar to this fic lololol, it was a good dream tho :>

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ tagging: @harukishiyo @kiraiyugen

"You're quite charming," he says, his voice soft and almost reverent, as if speaking an undeniable truth. "Precious, even. Why won't you tell me your name?"

You hesitate, narrowing your eyes at him. There's something about the way he asks, the smoothness of his tone, that feels too inviting, too... dangerous. For a second, you study him, his sudden appearance intriguing you.

You cross your arms, trying to appear more confident than you feel. "Uh, no. Mister, you should tell me your name first," you say, thinking you’ve cleverly sidestepped whatever game he’s playing. "Or... We could trade names."

For a moment, his eyes widen, surprise flickering across his face. But then his lips curl into a slow, satisfied smile, one that makes your stomach tighten in a way you can’t quite place. "Ah, a trade, is it?" he murmurs, the words rolling off his tongue with a hint of amusement. "Very well, if that is what you wish... I shall oblige."

He leans in slightly, his gaze never leaving yours, and for a brief second, you feel as though the air around you has thickened, charged with something unspoken. When he speaks his name - Jade, like the gem, it’s with a deliberate, almost theatrical grace, each syllable drawn out as if he’s savoring the moment. His voice is like silk, and his name feels heavy, lingering in the air between you.

And the sound is almost magical, hypnotic even.

You don't realize it, but the moment you suggested a trade, you unknowingly set the trap he had been waiting for. To exchange names with a fae is to offer something more than just words; it’s an agreement, a binding promise. By giving yours, you would be tying yourself to him, just as he’s doing now.

And the look in his eyes — the way they gleam with that mix of amusement and something darker — tells you that he knows exactly what you've just offered, even if you don't.

When you finally open your mouth to respond, you don’t see the invisible chains that have begun to form around you, nor do you hear the silent vow he’s made to keep you by his side.

"Well," you begin, a bit nervously, trying to shake off the sudden intensity in his eyes. "I guess it’s only fair to share mine now." You tell him your name, and as the words leave your lips, you can't help but notice how his smile widens, sharp and satisfied, like a predator finally closing in on its prey.

“Ah, so that is your name, Yuu,” he repeats, almost reverently, as if tasting it, repeating it again and again as if he was getting used to it. “Beautiful… fitting, even.”

He takes a step closer, and you instinctively take a step back, but he follows, closing the distance again. “You have no idea what you’ve just given me, do you?” His voice is gentle, but there’s an underlying current, a subtle shift that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

You blink, confused. “What do you mean?” you ask, feeling a little defensive. “It’s just my name. We traded, remember?”

“Oh, but it’s not just a name,” he replies, tilting his head as if amused by your innocence. “To share a name with a fae is to forge a bond, one that can not easily be broken. You offered a piece of yourself, and I’ve accepted it. Just as I have given you a piece of me in return.”

You stare at him, the realization dawning on you slowly, like the creeping shadow of a storm. You had to have misunderstood what he just said.

“Wait… Are you saying…?” Your words falter as you search his eyes, looking for any sign that he’s joking, but there’s none. The grin on his face is too calm, too knowing, as if he’s been planning this all along.

“Yes, my dear,” he says, his voice soft and almost affectionate, yet there’s a possessiveness in his tone that makes your heart skip a beat. “We are bound now, betrothed, if you wish to call it that. You belong to me, just as I belong to you. Isn’t it delightful? Mom and dad will be glad to know you.”

Your heart starts pounding, a mix of disbelief and panic surging through you. “No, no, that’s not what I meant!” You stammer, shaking your head as if you can undo the words you’ve already spoken. “I didn’t agree to… to this! I can't get married right now.”

He doesn’t seem fazed by your protest. If anything, he looks even more delighted now. “Oh, but we're married now due to fae traditions. The moment you proposed the trade, you sealed your fate. And I have no intention of letting you go, my precious beloved one.”

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch cool but oddly soothing. “Do not fear, Yuu. I shall take care of you, cherish you… just as a good partner should.”

You try to pull away, but his hand cups your cheek, holding you gently in place. “There is no need to run, no need to fight. We are bound by something far stronger than mere words. You wished to know my name, and now… you will never forget it.”

The forest around you feels like it’s closing in, the air thick with something unseen, as if the world itself acknowledges the bond between you. And in his eyes, you see no hint of malice, only a patient, eternal watchfulness, as if he’s content to wait, to let you come to terms with what you’ve unknowingly become a part of.

“I’ll give you time to understand,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a soft, almost tender smile as he presses a kiss to your temple. “But know this… I am yours, just as you are mine. And there is no escaping what has been forged tonight... Love.”

[lostfracturess]

LAST DECEMBER MORNING — SATORU GOJO

pairing — satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

summary — on a frost-bitten december morning, you watch satoru gojo prepare for his fated battle with sukuna with infuriating calm, like he isn't planning to sacrifice himself for the greater good. you've spent years being his secret, clearing battlefields for him and stealing kisses between missions, but now you're faced with the most brutal truth. that sometimes the cruelest curse isn't the one that kills you — it's loving someone who belongs to the world before they belong to you.

word count — 5.4 k

warnings — heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood and violence, implied death, unhealthy relationship, sad ending

author's note — this has been rotting in my drafts since the final jjk chapter dropped, and i finally dragged it out into the light bc i'm procrastinating uni. fair warning, this is pure angst with zero comfort, just two people breaking each other's hearts because sometimes love isn't enough. anywayys, happy reading <3

masterlist

Winter had never felt so much like an ending.

You watched frost creep across the windows of your shared apartment, each crystalline pattern forming like cracks in glass, spreading slowly but inevitably.

Outside, the world lay hushed under winter's blanket, everything soft and serene. Birds traced lazy patterns against a sky so blue it hurt to look at, and fresh snow made everything clean and new.

It was the kind of morning that belonged in fairy tales, the kind poets write about when they want to capture peace in words. Strange, how you'd never imagined death would choose such a beautiful day.

You watched Satoru move through his routine, each gesture precise and unhurried. White hair caught the pale sunlight as he smoothed it back, his reflection in the mirror handsome as ever before he adjusted his clothes, and put on his blindfold.

You'd watched him prepare for countless missions before, but this felt different. This felt final.

The normality of it all was almost cruel — how he could stand there, getting ready like this was just another day, just another fight. Like the sun wasn't rising on what could be your last morning together.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily forward, each second falling like a stone into still water. Time felt strange, both rushing too fast and moving too slow. You wanted to grab the clock's hands, force them to stop, to give you just a few more moments in this morning that felt like borrowed time.

"You're staring," he said without turning around, a slight smile playing at his lips.

"Can you blame me?" You were curled up in the window seat, tea growing cold in your hands. "It's not every day your— whatever we are goes to fight the King of Curses."

He turned then, and even through the blindfold, you could feel the weight of his gaze. "Whatever we are?" There was amusement in his tone. "After all this time, you still don't know what we are?"

"Well, we're not exactly big on labels," you pointed out, trying to keep your voice light despite the heaviness in your chest. "Secret relationship and all that."

"Ah, but that's what makes it fun, isn't it?" He crossed the room to where you sat, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "The sneaking around, the secret meetings—"

"Satoru." You caught his hand. "How are you so calm about this?"

He tilted his head, considering. "Would you prefer if I was panicking?"

"I'd prefer if you showed any emotion at all about the fact that you're about to fight Sukuna." You stood up, setting your tea aside. "You've been acting like this is just another day, just another fight, but it's not. You know it's not."

"I think I've shown plenty of emotion," he said, pulling you closer with a playful smile. "Just last night, if I recall—"

"Don't." You pressed a hand against his chest, keeping him at arm's length. "Don't deflect. Not today."

The smile faded from his face, replaced by something more serious. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me why you're so calm. I want you to tell me why you're not worried." Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on. "I want you to tell me why it feels like you're saying goodbye."

He was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing patterns on your wrist where he still held it. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. "The world needs to move forward. It needs to find someone stronger."

"What are you talking about?" You pulled back slightly. "You're the strongest there is."

"Am I?" His smile was gentle, almost sad. "Or is that just what everyone needs to believe?"

"Satoru—"

"The world has relied on me for too long," he continued. "They've made me their symbol, their savior, their stupid hero. But what happens when I'm gone? Who protects them then?"

"You're not going anywhere," you said. "You're going to win. You always win."

He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. "Sometimes winning isn't about surviving. Sometimes it's about making sure what comes after is better than what came before."

"That's not funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'm trying to tell you that whatever happens today, the world will keep turning. It will find new leaders, new protectors. Maybe even better ones."

"I don't want new protectors," you whispered. "I want you."

"Ah, but you've always had me," he said softly. "Ever since that first mission together, when you told me my head was too big to fit through doorways. Do you remember?"

You huffed. "You were showing off, making everything more complicated than it needed to be."

"I was trying to impress you."

"You're always trying to impress me."

"But it's working, right?"

You pressed closer to him, breathing in his familiar scent. "You know it is, you idiot."

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. For a moment, you both stood there in silence, listening to each other's heartbeats. The familiar rhythm brought back memories of how this all began, of the first time you'd been close enough to hear his heart race.

For loving Satoru Gojo had always been the most beautiful and dangerous thing in your world.

It started in blood, as most things in your world did. A mission gone wrong, cursed spirits thick in the air, the metallic taste of death sharp on your tongue. You’d seen him fight before—who hadn’t?

But that night was different. That night, you saw him bleed.

A special-grade curse caught you both off guard. One moment, he fought three curses at once like some untouchable god, and the next, he was crashing through three buildings, blood gushing from his mouth.

Something in your chest cracked at the sight — not from the impact of being thrown back yourself, but from seeing him, the strongest sorcerer alive, look so terrifyingly human.

You remembered how his blindfold had been torn, those devastating blue eyes meeting yours across the wreckage. Blood trickled down his chin, his usually perfect hair matted with debris, and yet he smiled. That damn smile that made your heart stutter even as cursed spirits attacked you from all sides.

“Trying to steal my spotlight?” he’d joked, wiping blood from his lips as he stood. “I’m the only one allowed to look cool here.”

You wanted to strangle him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to scream at him for making jokes when he could have died. You did none of those things. Instead, you cleared the area, giving him the perfect opening he needed to obliterate the special grade.

Later, after the dust had settled and the reports had been filed, he cornered you in the darkened hallway of Jujutsu High.

“You’re angry,” he said, not a question but a statement.

“I’m not angry.” You were furious. “I’m just wondering how someone who’s supposed to be the strongest can be so fucking reckless.”

He stepped closer, backing you against the wall. “Worried about me?”

“You wish.” But your voice shook, betraying you. Because you had been worried. Terrified, actually. The image of him lying in that wreckage, blood staining his white hair red, had burned itself into your mind.

“Liar,” he whispered, and then his lips were on yours.

Everything they said about Satoru Gojo was true — he was overwhelming, all-consuming, impossible to resist. Kissing him felt like being struck by lightning, like being unmade and remade in the space between heartbeats. You broke apart, both breathing hard, and reality came crashing back.

“Fuck,” you summarized eloquently.

He laughed, the sound low and rich. “That could be arranged.”

“Satoru.” You pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you. Because I’m me. Because there are a thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea.”

“I’m only hearing excuses.” He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Not actual reasons.”

And that was how it started — with blood and curses and kisses in dark hallways. With terrible ideas that felt too good to resist.

Keeping it secret was both easier and harder than you expected. Easier because everyone already knew how Satoru was — flirtatious, tactile, always pushing boundaries. No one questioned when he draped himself over your desk during meetings or appeared uninvited in your office and stayed for hours.

Harder because every moment felt like a lie of omission. Harder because you had to watch him walk into danger again and again, had to maintain professional distance when all you wanted was to grab him and never let go.

You stole moments where you could find them. Quick kisses in empty classrooms, heated encounters between missions, quiet nights in your apartment when the world thought he was somewhere else entirely.

It ate at you sometimes. Not because you wanted to announce it to the world, but because each moment felt borrowed, stolen from a future you might never have.

Every time he left for a mission, every time he faced another curse, you wondered if this would be it. If this would be the time your last memory of him would be a secret smile across a meeting room, a cryptic message that no one else understood. But then he’d come back, always with that insufferable smile, usually with some ridiculous story about how amazing he’d been.

He’d find ways to touch you in public that looked casual — a hand at the small of your back during briefings, fingers brushing as he passed you documents, his body angled toward yours in crowded rooms like a sunflower seeking light.

And the worst part? The absolute worst part was how good he was at pretending. How easily he maintained his public persona — the untouchable, unbeatable Satoru Gojo, who flirted with everyone and meant it with no one.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you in meetings with the same expression he gave everyone else, and for a moment, you’d wonder if you’d imagined everything between you.

But then night would fall, and he’d show up at your door with takeout and that soft smile he saved just for you. He’d kiss you like he was trying to apologize for every moment he had to pretend you were nothing special, like he was trying to prove that this, the two of you, was the only real thing in his world.

You never talked about the future. How could you? In your line of work, tomorrow was never guaranteed. Each mission could be your last, each kiss could be your goodbye. The closest you ever came to acknowledging it was in the desperate way he’d hold you after a close call, in the way you’d trace his features in the dark like you were trying to memorize them by touch.

Some nights, when sleep eluded you both, he’d tell you about the weight of being the strongest, about the exhaustion of being everyone’s last hope.

He’d whisper his fears into your skin — not of death or defeat, but of failing those who believed in him. Those were the moments when the great Satoru Gojo disappeared, leaving just Satoru, just a man who carried the world on his shoulders and made it look easy.

You lived for those moments. The quiet ones, the real ones, the ones where he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive but just yours. Just as you were his.

You carved out your own little infinity in the spaces between battles and duties. A secret world where his laugh wasn’t for show, where your touch wasn’t professional, where you could just be the two of you without the weight of expectations and reputations.

But infinity, as it turned out, had limits. Even his.

Looking at him now, preparing to face Sukuna with that same causality he brought to everything, you wondered if this was how your story was always meant to end. If all those stolen moments were just preparing you for this — one last morning, one last smile, one last chance to pretend tomorrow might come.

The world needed someone stronger, he said. But you needed him. And maybe that was the cruelest curse of all — loving someone the world needed more than you did.

"Promise me something," you said then.

"Hmm?"

"Promise me you won't just give up. Promise me you'll fight to come back."

He pulled back slightly, reaching up to remove his blindfold. His striking blue eyes met yours, intense and clear.

"I promise," he said, "that everything I do today will be for a better tomorrow."

"That's not what I asked."

"It's the only promise I can make."

"Stop." Your voice turned sharp, anger finally breaking through. "Stop talking about tomorrow. Stop talking about the future and the next generation and whatever noble sacrifice you think you need to make. I don't care about any of that."

"Don't you?"

"No, I don't." You grabbed his jacket, fingers twisting in the fabric. "I don't care if the world needs someone stronger. I don't care if the next generation needs to step up. I care about you, you impossible man. I want you here, alive, with me. Is that so wrong? Am I not allowed to be selfish when it comes to you?"

"Huh." He caught your hands in his, but didn't pull them away from his jacket. "And here I thought you understood me better than anyone."

"Don't." You tried to pull away, but he held firm. "Don't you dare try to make this about understanding. I understand perfectly. But you're wrong. You don't have to do this."

His smile faltered slightly. "It's not that simple."

"It is that simple!" Your voice cracked. "You're choosing to make it complicated. You're choosing to walk away, to... to what? Make some grand statement about the future? Prove that the world can survive without the great Satoru Gojo?"

"Someone has to."

"But why does it have to be you?" The words burst out of you, raw and desperate. "Why do you have to be the one to show them? Why can't you just fight to win, to live, to come back to—" You cut yourself off, biting back the words that wanted to follow.

"To you?" he finished softly.

"Yes," you said, dropping your forehead against his chest. "To me. Call me selfish, call me short-sighted, I don't care. I want more mornings like this. More everything. More of you, being insufferably calm and making terrible jokes and acting like the world isn't ending when we both know it might be."

He was quiet for a moment, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. When he spoke, his voice was gentler than before.

"I can't promise to come back." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But know this, every moment with you has been worth fighting for. Worth living for."

You pulled back enough to look at him, really look at him. "Then fight for more moments. Fight to make more memories. Fight to come back to me, not for some greater purpose or stupid sacrifice, but because you want to."

"And if I told you that wanting isn't enough?"

"Then I'd call you a liar." Your voice turned cold. "Because you're Satoru fucking Gojo. When has anything ever been impossible for you? When have you ever let anyone tell you what you can't do?"

​​"This is different—"

"How? How is this different? Because it's Sukuna? Because it's the fate of jujutsu society? Or because you've already decided how this story ends?"

His hands tightened on you, and for a moment, just a moment, you saw something flicker behind those blue eyes — doubt, fear, longing, you couldn't tell. But then it was gone, replaced by that same calm certainty that made you want to scream.

"Because I can't protect everyone—can't protect you if I allow myself to believe in a tomorrow," he whispered.

The gentleness in his voice, the soft way he delivered words meant to cut, made you want to tear the world apart. It was so perfectly Satoru — to break your heart like he was doing you a favor, to wound you with a tenderness that felt more cruel than any violence could be.

"I never asked you to protect me," you said finally. "I asked you to stay. There's a difference."

"Is there?" His hand came up to cup your face, shaking ever so slightly, betraying the calm he fought so hard to maintain. "Because every time I look at you, all I can think about is how many people would use you to get to me. How many would hurt you just to prove they could touch something I care about."

"So your solution is to what? Die nobly? Make sure there's nothing left for them to use against you?"

"My solution is to make sure the world doesn't need me anymore." His thumb brushed across your cheek, catching a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "To make sure you don't need me anymore."

"That's not your choice to make. You don't get to decide what I need. You don't get to martyr yourself for some greater good and pretend it's for my protection."

"Then what would you have me do?" For the first time, there was a hint of frustration in his voice. "Ignore my responsibilities? Pretend I'm not who I am?"

"I would have you fight like you want to come back!" The words ripped from your throat. "Fight like there's someone waiting for you after. Fight like you love me as much as I love you!"

The confession rang out between you, and the moment it left your lips, you realized you'd never said it before. Through all the stolen moments, all the secret touches, all the nights you'd spent memorizing each other's bodies — you'd never actually spoken those words aloud.

You'd both danced around it, implied it in every action, every look, every unfinished sentence, but neither of you had ever dared to make it real with words.

Until now. Until you were angry enough, desperate enough, terrified enough to let it slip from your heart straight past your defenses.

"Love?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"Of course I love you, you idiot." Your voice equally quiet. "Why else would I be standing here, begging the strongest sorcerer alive to be selfish just once?”

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, maybe a sob, his fingers tightening on you. "Don't," he whispered, and for the first time that morning, his voice was shaking. "Don't make this harder than it already is. Don't say things that make me want to—" He cut himself off, jaw clenching. "That make me want impossible things."

"Impossible? Since when does Satoru Gojo believe in impossible?"

"Since I realized being with you means putting you at risk." His thumb brushed your cheek, the gesture achingly gentle. "Since I understood that staying alive isn't the same as keeping you safe."

"I hate this." You shook your head. "I hate how calmly you can stand here and talk about sacrifice like it's inevitable. Like there's no other way."

"Would you prefer if I fell apart?" His smile turned sad. "If I raged and cried and promised things I might not be able to keep?"

"Yes," you admitted, your hands coming up to cover his where they still held your face. "Because at least then I'd know you want to stay as much as I want you to."

"Oh, my love." The endearment fell from his lips like a confession. "Wanting to stay has never been the question. The question is whether I can live with myself if I do."

"And what about whether I can live with myself if you don't?" Your voice broke. "What about whether I can forgive myself for not fighting harder to make you stay?"

"This isn't your fight."

"Like hell it isn't." You pulled back. "You think I spent months learning to clear battlefields just so you could take center stage? You think I perfected my technique to complement your infinity because I had nothing better to do?" You dug your nails into your palms, throat tight with fury. "I've been fighting alongside you since before you ever kissed me in that hallway. Before you ever decided I was worth protecting. Don't you dare tell me this isn't my fight when I've spent years making sure you had the space you needed to be great."

He was quiet for a long moment, studying you. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost reverent. "And that's exactly why I need to go. The world doesn't need more people making space for me. It needs people who'll fill that space themselves."

You recoiled like he'd slapped you, hurt burning in your chest. "Is that what you think I've been doing? Making myself smaller for you? Made space for you because I was afraid to reach higher?" You stepped closer, deadly calm now. "I made space for you because that's what you do when you love someone."

His lips twitched into a smile. "So you do understand me."

"Don't pretend those are the same thing."

He was quiet for a moment. Then, instead of answering, he pulled you into a kiss that tasted like goodbye. Like all the tomorrows you'd never have, all the moments you'd never share, all the promises neither of you could keep. You kissed him back with everything you had — all your fury and fear and love condensed into this one perfect, terrible moment.

His hands tangled in your hair like he was trying to memorize the feeling, yours gripping his jacket as if you could keep him here through sheer force of will. When you finally broke apart, hearts pounding, foreheads pressed together in the space between one heartbeat and the next.

"I'll hate you," you whispered against his lips. "If you don't come back, I'll hate you for the rest of my life."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, and for once, his smile held an edge of something raw, something that looked almost like pain. "No, you won't."

"I will." Your fingers tightened in his jacket. "I'll hate you for making me fall in love with someone who was always planning to leave. I'll hate you for every morning I wake up alone, for every mission briefing where someone else stands in your place, for every year I have to leave flowers on your grave."

"You'll move on. You'll find someone—"

"Fuck you," you cut him off, the words sharp enough to draw blood. "Don't you dare tell me how I'll feel. Don't you dare stand here and plan out my future without you in it."

"I'm just trying to—"

"To what? Prepare me? Make it easier? There's nothing easy about loving you, Satoru Gojo. There never has been. But I chose it anyway. Every day, knowing this moment would come."

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to say goodbye? Make it messy and painful and real?"

"I want you to stop pretending this is just another mission and show me something that tells me this is killing you like it's killing me."

The silence stretched between you like a chasm. For just a moment, beneath his careful composure, you caught a glimpse of the man behind the name — vulnerable, conflicted, maybe even afraid. But he buried it quickly, like he buried everything that might make him waver from his chosen path.

You'd always known this about him, hadn't you? Known it from that first bloody mission, from every fight where he'd put himself between the world and destruction.

Satoru Gojo was a man built for sacrifice, shaped by duty and power into something that could never truly belong to just one person. You'd fallen in love with him anyway, foolishly hoping that maybe love could be enough to make him choose differently.

But watching him now, seeing the gentle finality in every movement, you understood with crushing clarity that this was always how it would end. No amount of pleading or anger or love could change what he'd already decided.

He'd made his choice long before this morning, probably before he'd ever kissed you in that darkened hallway.

"Keep the tea warm for me," he said finally, stepping back. The words were casual, almost playful — exactly the kind of thing he'd say on any other morning. But that's what made it cruel. Even now, he was trying to soften the blow, pretending this was just another goodbye, just another mission.

You didn't say anything as he walked to the door. Didn't wish him luck or tell him to be safe. The time for those platitudes had passed.

Instead, you watched him pause in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame. For a moment, you thought he might turn around, might drop the act and let you see something real. One last true moment before the end.

He didn't fully turn, but his voice carried back to you, soft and achingly sincere. "I love you. More than anything." A pause. "That's why I have to go."

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You'd never expected them, had made peace with the silence between heartbeats where those words should have lived.

You'd imagined them differently, in all the quiet moments you'd shared — whispered against your skin in the dark, laughed into your mouth between kisses, murmured sleepily on lazy mornings. Not like this. Never like this.

How cruel, that he would finally say them now, when they felt more like a funeral rite than a confession. A parting gift from a man walking towards his own chosen end, making what should have been beautiful feel like another wound. The words you'd never dared hope for now hurt more than a lifetime of silence ever could.

Your throat burned with all the things you wanted to scream at him — about how love should mean staying, about how he was breaking your heart while trying to save it, about how dare he make those words sound like goodbye when they should have been a beginning.

"I hate you," you whispered.

He made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been something more broken. "No, you don't." The certainty in his voice felt like another wound. "You love me. You said so yourself."

"I'll hate you." Your voice hardened with each word. "I'll hate you so much it'll make you wish you'd stayed."

His hand tightened on the doorframe, knuckles white with tension. For a heartbeat, you thought you'd finally cracked his composure. That he might turn around and choose you over duty, love over destiny.

He didn't.

The door closed behind him with a soft click that sounded like an ending.

"But I'll wait for you anyway," you whispered to the empty room, hating yourself for the truth in those words.

The truth was, you'd always known it would end like this, known that loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who belonged to the world before he belonged to you.

But you'd been naive enough to hope. Foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe, love could be enough to make him choose differently. That your selfish desire to keep him alive and whole could outweigh his selfless need to reshape the world.

The morning light cut across the empty room, highlighting the space where he'd stood moments before, and you wondered about the cruelty of it all.

Was it wrong to want to keep him here? To ask the strongest sorcerer alive to choose personal happiness over humanity's future? How many would suffer because you'd asked him to be selfish just this once?

But then again, how many had already been saved by him? How many times had he bled and broken and pieced himself back together for a world that only saw him as a shield, never as a man? Didn't he deserve the chance to live for himself, just once?

If love died today, buried six feet under noble intentions and greater goods, then maybe hate was all you had left. And wasn't there something pure in that? In hating him with the same intensity you'd loved him? In letting that hate fill the spaces he left behind, burning away the softness until all that remained was sharp edges and bitter truths?

The world needed Satoru Gojo the symbol, the untouchable god of jujutsu. But you'd needed Satoru, just Satoru, the man who brought you tea exactly how you liked it and kissed you like you were his everything. The man who was walking away, leaving you with nothing but memories and the taste of hate on your tongue.

Was it selfish to think your love was worth more than the world's need? Was it cruel to measure the weight of one heart against humanity's future?

Love and duty were never meant to be weighed against each other like this, weren't meant to be choices that tore a person in two. And perhaps that was the real tragedy — not that he was walking away, but that you'd let yourself believe he wouldn't.

You'd known how this story would end from that very first kiss. Had tasted it in every goodbye before a mission, felt it every time you waited anxiously for his return, seen it lurking behind every smile that never quite reached his eyes.

Loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who was always meant to be sacrificed. You'd just been naive enough to think sacrifice could look different, that it didn't have to end with you here, choking on love turned to ash in your mouth.

Your fingers traced your lips where those three words still lingered like a curse. The tea was getting cold on the windowsill. You should pour it out, make a fresh cup. Should start preparing for a world where Satoru Gojo was just a memory, a legend, a story of sacrifice and strength. Should learn how to breathe around the thorns growing in your chest where love used to live.

Instead, you stayed frozen, caught in the space between what was and what could have been. Because maybe he was wrong. Maybe the world didn't need someone stronger. Maybe it just needed him to come back. You certainly did.

But it was too late for maybes now. He was already gone, walking toward a destiny he'd chosen long before he'd chosen you. And you were left here, caught between hating him for leaving and loving him for exactly who he was — a man who would always choose the greater good, even when it shattered both your hearts.

But perhaps the cruelest irony was that in trying to protect humanity, he'd forgotten he was human too. That in becoming everyone's shield, he'd forgotten shields could break. That hearts could break. That yours was breaking.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, indifferent to your pain, indifferent to the way your world had just walked out the door with a smile and a promise he might not be able to keep.

You'd wait anyway. Even knowing how the story was meant to end, you'd wait. Because that's what love was — not just the beautiful parts, but the ugly parts too. The waiting. The hoping. The hating.

The choosing to love someone even when they choose something else. Even when that love turns to poison in your veins.

Even when they choose the world over you.

The tea had long gone cold when you finally moved, muscles stiff from standing still for so long. You'd sworn you wouldn't watch. Had promised yourself you wouldn't be there to see him die for his greater tomorrow.

But your hands were already reaching for your jacket.

Because that was the thing about loving Satoru Gojo — even when it turned to hate, even when it felt like acid in your throat, you couldn't look away. You'd watch him fight Sukuna. Watch him smile that infuriating smile as he chose the world one last time.

After all, you'd already promised to hate him if he didn't come back.

The least you could do was be there to keep that promise.

author's note — thank you for reading this little piece of heartbreak. i was very unsure if it will ever see the light of day but i finished it now bc i was in the mood for pain. if you enjoyed, i would greatly appreciate a reblog or comment. hope your heart isn't too broken <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan @bloopsstuff

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[megamindsecretlair]

Make Me Weak, Part 1

Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sex acts and sexual issues. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.

Summary: Desperately at your absolute limit, you decide to see one last therapist to try and help with your condition. After one session, Dr. Richmond manages to put you at ease, giving you enough tools to start you on your journey. As the exploration continues, your true hope is that you don’t get burned.

Word Count: 4,648k

AO3 Link | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: Don't judge me for this chile. I saw that beautiful man in a black turtleneck with glasses and lost my marbles. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You

He came highly recommended. That was the only reason you were here. You’d stared at his pictures and read all of the available posts recommending him but you couldn’t get over the fact that he was so damn pretty. And intimidating. 

But after going through nine different therapists, most who ended up as creeps or couldn’t help you, you were at your wit’s end. It was already embarrassing enough starting over with a brand new therapist, but this had to take the cake. 

The hallway was quiet, with muted browns and reds. Supposedly academic, soothing colors. As if the darker the color, the less likely you were to think about anything sexual. You stared at the imposing brown door with his name embossed on a placard. Dr. Terry Richmond. 

You bit your lip and stared at the slip in your hand with the referral scrawled across it. He took on special cases. Pathetic cases. 

“Fuck this,” you said to yourself. You turned on your heel and stepped down the hallway. The door opened and the man himself looked down the hallway. 

“Are you my two o’clock?” He asked. His deep baritone was unexpected. Soothing. Calming. Unnerving. 

“Uh,” you sighed.

He continued to stare so you continued to stare back. He wore an all black outfit, right down to his black tennis shoes. He wore a long sleeved black T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Black, form fitting pants that only highlighted how tall he was. He had to be 6’1. Hell, possibly 6’3. 

He cleared his throat, looking for an answer. Light refracted off of his frames, temporarily hiding his eyes. You gripped the straps of your purse and squared your shoulders. “Yes,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond nodded his head and waved you inside. You walked behind him, feeling like you were walking to your doom. Inside his office, it was just as drab as outside.

Bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed with medical texts and non-fictional books on powerful Black figures through history. The office was small, but clean, with a golden brown sofa pushed against a solid wall of taupe. He had a painting above the sofa, showing a serene ocean view with a boat out on the water. 

Natural light filtered into the room from a window showcasing the cityscape outside. His office was high up in the building, letting you look down on all the people living their normal lives. 

The door closed behind you and you jumped, whipping around to see Dr. Richmond leaning away from the door. He raised his hands. “I’m sorry, would you like it to remain open?” He asked. 

You shook your head. Closed was preferable. You watched Dr. Richmond take his seat behind a massive desk, everything in a neat stack and in its proper place. He rolled forward and then opened a black folder, picking up a pen.

“Please, have a seat. Tell me about yourself,” he said.

“My thick ass file didn’t give me away? Sorry, I shouldn’t say ass. Sorry,” you said and winced after cussing so much. You pointed to a thick file on his desk and you knew without a doubt that it was yours. 

It was crazy how you had a full record of your insanity, detailing how you started down this deep, dark path. Cataloged every doctor, every note, every nasty thought in your mind. Okay, you were being a little dramatic, but this was just so…embarrassing. And it didn’t help to have someone who looked like that hearing what you had to say. 

“There’s no rules here. You want to say ass, go for it,” he said and shrugged. 

You giggled, feeling more at ease. You nodded and took a seat on the sofa. There was a clear coffee table in front of it that held a zen garden complete with little trees, shiny rocks, and…were those Lego figures? You looked from it to him and he smirked, drawing your attention to his full, lush lips. 

 “Some people find it easier to occupy their hands during discussions. You can give it a try if you want,” he said.

You sat back on the sofa. Maybe later. You felt too awkward as is. Like you were some alien visitor testing out your disguise on the human population. You rubbed your sweaty palms on your leggings and shook your head. “What, uh, did my file say about me?” 

Dr. Richmond shrugged and leaned back in his seat, fixing his thin gold glasses on his face. “Those are words and opinions from other doctors. I’d rather hear what you have to say,” he said and leaned back in his seat.

He was so…disarming in a way that allowed you to release the ironclad control you held on to. You picked at your nails and focused on that, rather than his stormy eyes. “I think I’m broken. And I’m not entirely sure why I’m even entertaining this,” you said. 

“Why are you then?” He prompted.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Tired of feeling like a freak,” you said.

“A freak? Why would you use that term?” He asked. 

You snuck a glance at him. He no longer held the pen. He rested his hands against his stomach, clasped, and just looked at you. Even that was different from all your other therapists combined. 

“Because that’s what it feels like. Like I’m in a freak show. I–,” you stopped and licked your lips. But you were here now. May as well rip the bandaid off. “I can’t cum! And I know, it’s normal. I know plenty of people experience it. I know that women especially have a hard time doing it. But no matter what I fuckin’ try, I just can’t. I feel it coming, I know it’s coming, but then it sort of…goes away? And then I’m sitting there embarrassed that I can’t and when I’m with a partner, they pretend that it’s cool, but then I never hear from them again.” 

You clicked your teeth shut as you realized you were rambling. You picked at a stiff hangnail, tugged at it until it started to hurt. You continued flicking at it, egged on by your awkwardness. And realizing you were being awkward was only making it worse. So you picked. And picked, until the hangnail tore and hurt worse. 

“Why is it important that you cum?” He asked. 

“What?” You asked. You looked at him, expecting to see pity. Disgust. Curiousness. Dr. Richmond held none of those things. His face was a pillar of stoicism, balancing the perfect mix of professionalism and empathy. 

“Why is it so important to you? If you know that it’s normal and plenty of people experience it, shouldn’t the journey matter more than the destination?” He asked. 

Your mouth fell open on a silent gasp as you looked at him. Your mind emptied of every single possible answer to that question. It was important because…it was. Because you never got anything else right either. You were always a step behind, slow on the uptick, feeling like you were taking up too much space in the world even after shrinking yourself to the smallest possible point.

Not easy to do considering your size. You loved your body and wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it wasn’t exactly easy to hide. You were unassuming, sweet, kind, and a great friend. But beneath all of that, you wanted desperately to fit in. This was a basic human release. It was part of the big three things that humans needed. Food, safety, sex. And you could only achieve one of those things.

But how did you word that without sounding like a pathetic kook? You pulled at the hangnail, felt the burn as it ripped, and shrugged your shoulders. Might as well tell the truth. “Because I feel like a freak when I can’t. Like I waited too long. To have sex, to experience life, to explore what I’m into,” you said. 

“Do you think there are goal posts for life?” He asked. He may as well have been a statue for how often he moved. He retained his position, chair turned slightly towards you, as he looked at you like you were a puzzle. 

“Isn’t there? That’s why we call them milestones? Reach your 18th birthday, yay you’re an adult. Find the love of your life, yay you’re married. Pop out some kids, yay, you’re continuing the bloodline. I feel like now, at my age, I should know what one fuckin’ orgasm feels like,” you said. 

“How do you know you haven’t had one already?” He asked.

“I know my body. There’s nothing. There’s the build up, there’s the excitement, there’s everything leading up to it. But I never get over that peak. It just…goes away,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond nodded and turned his attention to the pad. He wrote down a few sentences and it was so quiet in his office, you could hear a clock ticking nearby. You also heard his pen scratch against the paper. He must be using some fancy, fountain pen. He looked the type. 

“What do you hope to achieve through therapy?” He asked. 

You shrugged. “If I knew, you wouldn’t be my tenth therapist,” you said with a heavy sigh. When you first thought about going to therapy, you thought it wasn’t truly for you. There was nothing that really bothered you outside of life’s stress. Everybody had that. 

But you ended up finding some that encouraged you to dig deep and find the woman within. The one comfortable in her skin. Encouraged you to explore your sexuality and think about it in depth. You crawled through so many forums, so many health websites, so many articles that you had a great idea of what ailed you. 

“There has to be a reason you keep trying,” he said. 

You leaned back into the sofa with a huff. “You definitely ask the easy questions. What happened to the intake and whatever?” You asked.

Dr. Richmond chuckled. He tapped his pen against your folder. “You’ve done plenty of that, don’t you think?” 

Your lips twisted with a smile. Okay, maybe you were starting to see why he was so highly recommended. He was comforting without being condescending. Soothing without being smarmy. He treated you like an adult and for the first time, you had a little beacon of hope. 

“I keep trying because I want it. I don’t have the words right now to describe why I want it. I want to know the hype. I want the relief. I want to know what post nut clarity feels like,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond chuckled and you chuckled with him. It sounded funny, but you were so serious. It was exhausting at this point. Pretending like you knew what the fuck you were talking about when others asked you. Your group chat blew up with your equally single friends who were less discerning about who they took to bed.

Every other night, there were stories about dick sizes, oral, and a whole treatise on the lack of finesse these guys had. You almost snorted thinking about your best friend, Brooklyn, and how she said that no wonder men were trapping women in marriages in the past. It was the only way they could get women to be with them. It certainly wasn’t because of their pornographic sexual prowess. 

“What’s been your journey with sex so far?” He asked. 

You took a deep breath and told him all about it. The way that you picked up a book one day with sex in it and never looked back. In a lot of ways, that book probably shaped how you viewed sex and your sexual kinks. Before long, you were searching for more and more books with the exact same tropes. A sexy, semi-asshole alpha male that was too big to be real. 7’8, long dick, and a short attitude. Typically bad boy types with tattoos and “touch her and die” vibes. The kind to only be soft with the female main character.

You could wax poetic about why it appealed to you. Blah blah blah, you had a terrible childhood where you felt invisible. It was all there in the file if he wanted to take a gander. 

“I know I’m submissive, that I want to be dominated in bed. But, whew, the game out here is ridiculous,” you said. “The men I wouldn’t mind submitting to are too damn weak to take control. The men I would never submit to act like I’m their pet already and can speak to me however they want.” 

“Do you think you’re being too picky?” He asked. 

You were startled into a laugh. “What gave me away, Dr. Richmond?” You asked.

Dr. Richmond chuckled. “I have a process, bear with me,” he said. That ain’t all you wanted to do. He was fine as hell. You mentally shook your head. No, you could not go there. Not at all. 

You continued to discuss how you led to certain conclusions. Yes, you were picky. But why shouldn’t you be? You weren’t seeking perfection. You just wanted something normal. Something healthy. Something toe curling, mind numbing, sickeningly disgusting and sweet. Was that too much to ask for? 

Dr. Richmond asked more questions and you relaxed fraction by fraction, getting right to the core of why you were seeking professional help. You told him about some of the partners you had. Some who were sweet and really tried. You had a long term boyfriend at one point who was attentive and caring. But he fell short of making you cum. 

He ate you out long enough to get you wet and going and then jumped straight to sex just so he could cum. You often lied about cumming until it got too exhausting to keep up with. He promptly got mad, hurt that you lied, and possibly embarrassed that he wasn’t God’s gift to sex. His loss. 

It was awkward at first to discuss such intimate details with Dr. Richmond but you often forgot he was even there. Until he asked you to expand on something you said or ask a clarifying question. Even the scratch of his pen faded into the background as you spoke about how you arrived in his office. 

Dr. Richmond finally finished and leaned back in his seat once more, squaring his broad shoulders against the high back of his chair. He crossed his leg and looked at you and you briefly wondered what he’d look like without the glasses. 

“We’re nearing the end of our session but I think I’m getting a clearer picture of why you’re here. After hearing from you and looking through your file, it seems like your perception of what sex really is has been skewed. Either through these books, these movies, or even porn. It’s perfectly okay to consider what you like in bed or what you prefer in a partner. But most people’s foray into their sexual journey starts with themselves. What’s your relationship like with your body?” 

“I love my body,” you said, immediately. Why wouldn’t you love your body? You were gorgeous. Sure, you struggled with your weight, but you didn’t want to be thin anyway. You just wanted to roll out of bed without being out of breath sometimes. Or cut your toenails without having to stop every few minutes for air. 

Dr. Richmond licked his lips and your eyes dropped immediately to it. He rubbed the corner of his mouth with his thumb and it drew your attention to his big hands. Too damn bad you hadn’t met him under better circumstances. You bet he could make you cum. Often.

“What else?” He asked. 

“What else is there?” You asked, clearing your throat, and drawing your attention away from how drop dead gorgeous he was. Your thoughts ran wild still, picturing him in all sorts of nasty scenarios. If nothing else, your imagination was always there to show you a good time. Your own perfect world where you experienced back to back orgasms. 

“What has your personal sexual journey encompassed besides you loving your body? Do you touch yourself?” He asked. 

You fought every urge you had to squeeze your thighs together. How the hell did this man end up in this profession? He missed his calling as a phone sex operator. Or an erotic audio content creator. Good lord, he could have people eating out of the palm of his hand if he so wished. Swimming in a tub full of money earned from hundreds of thousands of horny bitches who could cum to his voice alone. Lucky bitches.

You shrugged. “Of course I touch myself. I can’t cum that way either,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond chuckled. “This only works if you lower them walls you try so hard to hide behind,” he said.

You kissed your teeth and rolled your eyes to the ceiling. The hell did he know. So what if he had fancy doctor diplomas behind his chair. So what if he had a MD in this field. What the hell did he know?

After cursing him out two ways from Sunday in your mind, you deflated. “I know I’m not relaxed when I masterbate. I lock my door, I put on headphones, and I still feel like I’m…”

“Like you’re…?” Dr. Richmond prompted. 

“Being watched? Being judged? You can probably guess I grew up religious. It’s not like I had enough time or space to explore my body. My room was directly next to my parents’. If I so much as sighed too loud, my mom was banging on my wall telling me to fix my attitude,” you admitted. That had been oodles of fun. Growing up, you couldn’t even roll your eyes without someone telling you to fix your face. 

“What does relax you then?” He asked.

“When I find out, I’ll tell you,” you said.

Dr. Richmond smiled, showing off a dazzling, mega-watt movie star smile that made your knees weak. If you weren’t already sitting down, you’d fall flat on your face. 

“I believe I can help you, but you have to be willing to do the work. I need total, focused commitment from you. Do you think you can do that?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said instantly. There wasn’t even a question. You wanted this more than breathing, more than eating. And that was saying something because you would happily drive far and wide for a good meal. 

Dr. Richmond nodded. “Good. I’m giving you homework. I want you to spend the next week exploring your body. Nothing sexual. Spend time in your body and with your body. Touch yourself, but no masterbating. When you shower, acknowledge your body. When you lotion up, pay attention to every mole, every scar. This is the only body you’ll ever have so it’s time to think beyond simple body maintenance. Admire your body. I also want you to keep a journal. You won’t share it with me unless you want to, but this exercise is to get you in tune with your body. Rewire how you perceive sex and sexual completion. Does that sound doable?” 

You nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment. He must not know the effect he had on those around him. He had to be completely clueless. Batshit fucking oblivious. The wreck he was having on your libido was absolutely insane. 

Joking aside, you were taking this seriously. In just one session, Dr. Richmond managed to give you a tiny spark of hope. That maybe you weren’t a lost cause. You immediately tempered your thoughts. Hope hurt. You’d been hopeful so many times in the past, with different therapists, who seemed like they had a plan to help you.

Only for them to diagnose some other problem. You had anxiety, duh. You had depression, shocker. You had a laundry list of diagnoses from doctors and therapists who just thought you were obsessed with sex. That was like saying the sky was blue. Who wasn’t obsessed with sex? Besides asexual people. 

“I’ll do it,” you said.

“Good,” he said. He went over your schedule, working out a time to see him once a week until you would eventually graduate to fewer sessions. That bummed you out. Not seeing his gorgeous face ever again? Could you fake another issue and continue seeing him? 

Dr. Richmond dismissed you and you left his office feeling a smidgen lighter than when you entered. Maybe this would actually work out. Maybe. 

Terry

Terry finished with his last client of the day and went over his notes, inputting his clearer thoughts into the patient portal on his laptop. When he ran across your file, he paused and opened it once more.

Your case fascinated him. He couldn’t stop pouring over your files, doctor’s notes, direct quotes. There had been plenty of therapists before him, all trying to help the beautiful woman who entered his office earlier in the afternoon. 

He wasn’t immune to his patients. Some were beautiful and charming and all tried to flirt their way into his bed. He never crossed that line. Never. Yet…when you discussed your story, the rawness of it captivated him. He held onto your every word like you were a theater production right before his eyes. 

He hardly took notes because he was so fascinated with the dichotomy of you. On the outside, you were a bit shy. Perhaps too self-aware which led you to shrink, hide who you really were. He got the sense that there was an entire universe wrapped up in your mind and he began asking deeper questions than he ever had on a first session. 

The hour had gone by too fast for his tastes. He wanted to hear more. Learn more. Know more. He hated to admit it, he even got semi-erect as you told your tale. He was understandably disgusted and it wasn’t the first time; occupational hazard. But it was the first time he’d ever cursed his medical degree. 

You were perfect. Absolutely perfect. When you admitted to being submissive, his dick even twitched. Ached. Why couldn’t he have met you somewhere else? Surely, fate hadn’t been so cruel as to put the perfect sub within reach and then ensure that he could never have you? Never touch you? 

Describing your previous lovers actually made his chest boil. You had been subjected to ignorant men who wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you. And they had you believing that you were the problem. It was laughable. It was maddening. It was cruel. 

He frowned at your file. He had gone over it so many times in preparation for the session. He didn’t know what would walk through the door. A file this thick? He thought he’d have a sex-obsessed, delusional fiend on his hands that he’d have to contend with.

Your wish of cumming was almost cute. Terry sighed. He shouldn’t be thinking it was cute. If anything, he should be passing your case off to his colleague down the hall. Dr. Crawford was as capable as Terry was, their ideas often aligning in regards to treatment.

He preferred a holistic approach. Most problems could be resolved within a few months, once people began to shift their idea of sex and their role in it. 

“Everything is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.” That was one of his favorite quotes, said so many times that no one truly knew where it originated. 

It was a quote he often repeated to his patients at the right moment. When they were beginning to discover a part of themselves previously unexplored. He wondered how long it would take for your moment? That dawning realization. 

He was only sad he couldn’t see it in real time. That moment when you let yourself feel. Let yourself relax and sink into that subspace you so desperately needed. Terry grunted and closed your file. 

He was about to crack you open like an egg and watch a brand new woman emerge. He was about to hand you off to the first man who pretended to understand your needs. He took out his fresh notepad, every patient got one, and scribbled some more notes. He’d have to make sure you understood the difference between a real dom and a little boy playing dress up. 

His eyes scanned across his earlier notes, little things he jotted down while you spoke. Areas you skipped over, areas you expanded on. They were only a sentence or two long, something to kickstart his memory. Because at the time, his eyes were focused on you. On your face, your voice, your mannerisms. 

It was both a curse and a blessing to notice so much. See so much. Understand so much. But it worked when necessary. You deflected about your sexual partners, retreated when he tried to push further about how you reached these conclusions. What methods you tried.

Usually, Terry did a whole song and dance to ease patients into talking about sex. Sex was taboo until it was time to have it. Now everything was awkward, unbalanced, and led to too many instances of abuse. 

But between your file and how skittish but determined you seemed, you didn’t need a song and dance. You needed someone to give you guideposts. You didn’t truly need therapists. You just needed a nudge in the right direction. A nudge to someone else.

Terry pursed his lips and looked at your name on the file. He had to be careful. If he wasn’t, you would end up being trouble in more ways than one. 

He finished up the last of his notes and then scanned through for anything he might have missed. He wrote down what your homework assignment was. He hadn’t truly known where that came from. 

Perhaps it was the look in your eyes. Perhaps it was the helpless, frantic twist to your mouth that had him going from zero to one hundred where you were concerned. But the more he described it, the lower your eyes went. The way your mouth slackened just a bit. As if you were caught in some picture in your mind that he couldn’t see. 

Terry leaned away from his desk and looked outside of his window. The tinted glass showed the sun in the distance, sinking lower towards the horizon. A bird flew, twisting and turning with the hot currents it found. 

He ought to do the right thing. There was no way to remain objective in this manner. Not when he was strangely drawn to you, drawn to your file, and drawn to the unique challenge it presented. 

You could very well end up a case study in some medical textbook or journal, name changed, but the presentation exactly the same. He didn’t relish the thought of being the one to put you there. But your case could end up helping someone else. It was the way the world worked.

He only hoped that he had enough self-restraint to walk away if he found himself compromised. If he couldn’t reign in his personal tastes and habits to help you. If he found himself looking at your lips as you spoke, your smile as you made self-deprecating jokes, or the shy way you licked your lips. 

“Shit.” He took his phone out of his bag and hit up his on again, off again submissive play partner, Tasia. Perhaps it’d been too long since he took care of his own needs. Perhaps what he needed was to release the pent up tension he carried around all the time. 

How long had it been? He didn’t know. But even as he set up the details with Tasia, he couldn’t help wondering if you were following his directions to the letter.

I said don't judge me! LOL. Thank you for reading, truly.

The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 2 | Part 3

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[a-mint-bear]

Make Me Yours

Male Yandere x Reader

Part 2: "Your One and Only"

"I just... really wanna put a collar on a cute guy."

You didn't even mean to say it out loud, but your best friend since middle school had always been super open with this sort of stuff. You've always been the first one she texts when a date goes really well, or really terribly. And a lot of your coffee meetups, like this one, devolve into her oversharing all the juicy details of her relationships.

"Oh wow." She nudged you with a grin. "Didn't know you had it in you!"

Unable to meet her eyes, you try to defend your stray thought. You remind her of some of the jerks you've dated, how their assertive and self-assured personalities had all quickly turned into a bit too aggressive and controlling. In certain situations, in controlled doses... that could lead to a nice time. But it's all fun and games until you try to explain away some of their worse moments to your coworkers and swiftly realize you're in "that kind" of relationship. You wonder if you give off some kind of energy that attracts creeps...

The thought of finding a guy who would not only let you take the reins but maybe even prefer you taking charge? It gave you a little thrill you're almost embarrassed to admit.

"Well, it's nothing to get all twisted up over." she shrugs, taking a sip of her iced latte. "You'll find the right guy that's into that kind of thing."

You smiled, she really was trying to encourage you with this, and it was oddly sweet of her.

"Oh, look!" she scooted closer to you, showing you her phone screen. "There's tons of collars you can get. You thinkin' like leather, classic S&M style? Or somethin' more cutesy?"

Maybe a little too encouraging, sometimes.

~ Somewhere very close by...~

His hands were shaking. Your words were playing on repeat in his head, drowning everything else out.

As if you weren't already perfect. He'd been so jealous of you meeting up with your friend, but if it made this conversation happen so he couldn't be too upset about it. He'd been trying to think of some way to make you his for so long... But being yours? Wearing something like that? Something that said he belonged only to you?

He was already yours. But a little proof never hurt.

. . .

It was late, and you decided to cut through the park to get home quicker. It was a pretty safe area, but you didn't want to be here any longer than you had to be. A few lights lit up the main path and you didn't see anyone else around.

But that didn't mean you were alone.

"Hey..."

You spin around to see... some guy. You'd never met him before, but he was... making A LOT of eye contact.

He was cute though. Soft, fluffy hair and piercings in his ears, his bright eyes poking out from beneath his bangs. And he had at least six inches on you, but not really an intimidating frame, a bit skinny too. The way he was looking at you was making you nervous, but you weren't sure if it was a "Oh, this is unexpected." kind of nervous or a "You're gonna end up in his basement." kind of nervous.

"You probably don't remember me but, uh...we had a few classes together last year and…"

He seemed really nervous himself, trailing off with some color in his cheeks. You tell him politely that you were sorry, but you didn't remember him.

"That's okay, uh..."

He was breathing kind of funny, his eyes still staring into yours. You asked him what he needed, hoping it would speed this along and you could leave.

He took a breath, and all you could do was stare, wondering if you should distract him and make a break for it.

"I... I've liked you. For a long time. It's like... like everything about you is just so... wonderful! Seeing you every day keeps me going! I was okay just watching but then... Sorry, sorry. I'm c-coming on too strong, I..."

He took a step towards you, moving like he was going to touch you, but you instinctively took a step back. He looked a little hurt.

"No, no please, don't be scared! I just... I thought it was the right time... I've been thinking about this for so long! I just wanted to..."

He dropped to his knees and the look in his eyes was almost...like he worshipped you. Like you were everything to him and nothing else mattered. It was a bit overwhelming...

"I heard you talking to your friend the other day. Not, uh, not in a weird way, I swear! I-it's just... It's all I can think about..."

He stared at you, a glimmer of something in his eyes. You could see a tremble in his hands, like he was debating reaching out for you again. But he was holding himself back.

Seeing him kneeling, looking up at you with a want that burned into you... It was doing something to you.

This was a weird, kinda scary, unbelievable situation. But it felt so...

Good.

You felt bold. Deciding to go for broke, you finally spoke again.

You asked him to tell you what he wanted.

You could see the tremble shoot through his frame, the smallest, quietest gasp when the your words finally registered.

"I want... I want you to look down at me, just like this! I want you to run your fingers through my hair and tell me I'm a good boy. Your good boy! I want to cuddle up to you and hear your heartbeat while you hold me, I... I want you to use me... I want you to yank my collar if I get too excited and tell me to behave."

He laughed softly at the thought, this guy was completely smitten.

"I want to be yours, if that'll make you happy..."

He reached into his back pocket, you heard the gentle clink of the collar before you saw it. It was like some kind of odd proposal, except he was down on both knees.

He held it up to you, his eyes clouded with a want that made your face feel hot.

So painfully slowly, you reached out for him, your fingers flinching back for a split second, rational thought desperately trying to break through. But despite all the reasons you could think this was completely crazy, you still wanted this.

You touched his cheek, and he didn't hesitate to lean into your hand with a contented, dreamy sigh.

The power he was giving you was... new, exciting, maybe a bit intoxicating. And he was offering it all so willingly, you wondered if this was all a dream.

"I wanna be your good boy..." His voice was soft but pleading, almost desperate. "Please..."

His smile was making your brain feel fuzzy, seeing him looking up at you like you were his whole world.

"Make me yours."

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || You're Friends With Benefits and you're Pregnant

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

SEOKJIN:

You were sitting across from Jin, your hands trembling slightly as you muster the courage to tell him the news. it was something you'd been meaning to do for a few weeks now but every time you'd tried to do it you'd lost all of your courage. 

"Jin..." You whisper a little. His warm smile faded as soon as he saw the seriousness in your expression. The two of you had been friends for years and he knew how to read you like a book.

"I need to tell you something important." You started a little and he leaned in slightly, concern etched on his face.

"What is it? You know you can tell me anything." You take a deep breath, feeling your heart pound in your chest. You knew you could tell him anything but that didn't make what you needed to tell him any easier to say.

"I'm pregnant." For a moment, Jin is silent, his eyes widening as he processes your words. You can see the surprise flash across his face, but it quickly gives way to a calm, thoughtful expression. He inhales deeply, letting the news settle before responding.

"Okay," he says, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

"Okay? T-That's all you have to say?!" Your voice cracked as you let out some of your own panic but Jin took your hand in his and gently soothed your skin a little.

"Let me finish," He laughs softly as he looks at you,

"This is unexpected, but we're going to get through this." he squeezed your hand a little as he looked at you.

"I want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll figure this out together, step by step." You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he was already thinking ahead, trying to be strong for you. 

"We need to talk about what you want," he continues softly. He didn't want to force you into keeping the baby or force you into not keeping them. He was going to be there for you no matter what you wanted.

"Whatever you decide, I'll support you 100%. We don’t have to rush into anything right now. We can take our time to figure out what’s best for you, for us, and for the baby." Jin’s calmness made you feel better as you nodded at him.

"I want this...I-I want the baby." You whipped as he nodded, bringing you into his arms.

"We’ll get through this together. A mini me or you would be cute to have around," he promises you as you giggle a little.

YOONGI:

You and Yoongi are sitting in his studio, the soft hum of music playing in the background as he tinkers with some tracks. The atmosphere is relaxed, but your growing anxiety makes it hard for you to stay calm. Yoongi knew it wasn't like you to be quiet, and he frowned, glancing over at you with a concerned look.

"You’re quiet," he observes, as he looks at his computer. The two of you had planned to go to dinner but he was working late. You take a deep breath, your heart pounding as you try to find the right words. This was something that wasn't expected, the two of you were just supposed to have sex and nothing more and yet now everything was going to be changing.

"Yoongi, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s... important." He turns his chair to face you fully, sensing the seriousness in your voice. His usual laid-back expression shifts slightly as concern creeps in. 

"What is it?" he asks, his tone calm but tinged with a subtle tension. 

"You know you can tell me anything." He finished,

"I’m pregnant," you say, the words coming out in a rush before you lose your nerve.

For a moment, the room falls into a heavy silence. Yoongi just stares at you, his expression unreadable. His eyes widen slightly, but his face remains largely impassive, his usual calm exterior giving little away. He blinks a few times, his mind clearly working to process the unexpected news.

"Pregnant?" he finally repeats, his voice quiet, almost as if he’s speaking to himself. He leans back in his chair, his gaze drifting away from you as he tries to make sense of what you’ve just told him.

You watch as his expression darkens, his usual calmness giving way to a troubled look.

"This… this wasn’t supposed to happen," he mutters, his voice low and strained. 

"We were just… It wasn’t meant to get this complicated." There’s a coldness in his tone that you’ve never heard before, a detachment that makes your heart sink. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a deep sigh as he stares at the floor, his thoughts clearly racing.

"I don’t know if I’m ready for this," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"I don’t even know where to begin." He whispered. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the way he’s struggling to keep his emotions in check. Yoongi was always been someone who values control, and this news has clearly thrown him off balance. He’s retreating into himself, his mind turning over the implications of what you’ve just told him.

"Yoongi, I’m scared too," you say softly, hoping to reach him through the wall he’s starting to build. You weren't going to let him shut down.

"But we need to figure this out together. I can’t do this alone." His gaze finally shifts back to you, and you can see the turmoil in his eyes. There’s a flicker of something—regret, maybe, or guilt—but it’s quickly swallowed up by the storm of emotions he’s trying to suppress.

"I know," he says after a long pause, his voice rough around the edges. 

"I just… I need time to think. This is a lot to take in." He stands up, pacing the small space as he tries to wrap his head around the situation. His usual confidence is shaken, replaced by a deep uncertainty that weighs heavily on him. But despite his inner turmoil, there’s still a part of him that cares about you, that wants to do the right thing, even if he’s not sure what that is yet.

"I need time." He repeated and you could hear the distance in his tone, a hesitation that lingers, but there’s also a flicker of determination in his eyes. Your eyes teared up as you realised you were probably going to have to do this all alone.

"But I’m not going anywhere. We’ll talk more, figure out what’s next… together." He whispered as he sat back down, 

"We're doing this together, no matter what." He promises, kissing your hand softly.

HOSEOK:

You and Hoseok were sitting at your apartment, you'd invited him around like you did most weekends and he'd been ready for it. What he hadn't been ready for was the serious look on your face as you sat across from him,

"Hoseok, I need to tell you something… It’s big." His smile fades as he focuses entirely on you, worry now evident in his eyes. "

What is it? You sick? I know you've been off for a while, did you finally go to the doctor?" he asks, his voice soft but tinged with anxiety.

"I’m pregnant." You rushed out. The words hang in the air for a moment as he processes what you just said. His eyes widen in surprise, and you can see a mix of emotions flashing across his face—shock, concern, and something else, something softer.

"Pregnant?" he repeats, almost as if testing the word out. He takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. 

"Wow, okay… this is... a lot to take in." He whispered as you nodded a little. You knew it was going to be a lot for him.

He falls silent for a moment, his mind clearly racing. But then he looks at you with that familiar warmth in his eyes, the hint of a smile forming at the corners of his lips as he reaches for your hand.

"I won’t lie, I’m a little scared," he admits, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. 

"But… we’ll get through this, okay? It might not be what we planned, but that doesn’t mean it can’t work out. We’ll figure it out together, one step at a time." You can see the concern still lingering in his eyes, but he’s trying his best to stay positive, and to be your source of strength in this unexpected situation.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand.

"Are you okay? This must be really overwhelming for you." You nod, a small smile breaking through your nervousness as you see how hard he’s trying to stay optimistic for you. 

"I’m okay, just… scared, I guess."

"Me too," he admits, his smile widening just a bit. 

"But you know what? We’re a team, right? And teams stick together, no matter what." He smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you into a warm hug,

"We’ll take it one day at a time," he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with determination. 

"We're gonna have a baby," you whisper as he runs his hand down to your stomach, touching it softly and smiling brightly. 

"I'm gonna be a dad." He grins down at you, kissing you softly.

NAMJOON:

When you'd invited Namjoon around he thought it was for the same reason he'd been needing to talk to you,

"We'll go at the same time," he chuckles as you nod a little. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before speaking. 

"I’m pregnant."

"I love you-" Your heart launched into your throat as you stared at Namjoon. For a moment, Namjoon is silent, his mind clearly working at a million miles an hour. His initial reaction is one of shock, his eyes widening as he absorbs the news. He quickly pulls himself together, though, and his expression shifts to one of focused determination.

"Wow... okay, this changes everything," he says, his voice calm but thoughtful. He pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing. 

"First, how are you feeling? Are you okay?" You nod, relieved that he’s handling the situation so thoughtfully. 

"I’m… I’m okay, just really overwhelmed." He leans back, exhaling slowly as he runs a hand through his hair. 

"I get that. This is a lot to take in, for both of us." His tone is measured, as if he’s already planning the next steps in his mind. 

"We need to talk about all our options. I want to make sure you feel supported, whatever you decide. This isn’t just about us anymore—it’s about what’s best for you and the baby." Namjoon’s mind is clearly in overdrive, but he’s making a conscious effort to remain calm and focused for your sake. He leans forward, his gaze serious yet caring.

"Joonie..." You trail off, remembering what he had said to you, he looked at you, forgetting for a moment he'd confessed that he loved you.

"I love you too." you smile, kissing him softly as you touch his hand on your stomach and relax a little. Knowing that you weren't alone was going to help a lot with all of this.

JIMIN:

You and Jimin are sitting in your living room, the atmosphere a mix of nervous excitement and underlying tension. You’ve just told him that you’re pregnant, and while you’re were still trying to process the news, Jimin’s reaction was… intense.

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he just stares at you in shock. Then, almost as if a switch flips, he jumps up from the couch, his mind racing a mile a minute. 

"Oh my god, you’re pregnant!" he exclaims, running a hand through his hair. 

"We need to get everything ready. You have to start taking vitamins, right? And what about your diet? Are you getting enough nutrients? Oh god, we need to make sure you’re eating all the right things!"

He starts pacing back and forth, his face a mixture of concern and sheer panic.

"Do we have a plan? What about the doctor? You need to see a doctor, like, right now. And we don’t even have a nursery set up! How are we going to do this? I don’t even know the first thing about babies! Should I be reading books? I need to read books, don’t I?" You watch him, trying to keep a straight face, but the sight of him spiralling into a full-blown panic is both endearing and amusing. A giggle escapes your lips, and soon you’re laughing, the sound light and infectious. Jimin stops mid-pace, turning to look at you with wide eyes.

"Why are you laughing?" he asks, genuinely puzzled. 

"This is serious! We have so much to do!" He panicked at you and you couldn't help but laugh harder. You shake your head, still giggling as you reach out to take his hand, pulling him back down to the couch beside you. 

"Jimin, calm down," you say, trying to suppress another laugh.

"We don’t have to do everything all at once. We’ll figure it out together." You smiled at him, out of the two of you, you thought you would be the one to react like this. He looks at you, his expression softening as he realizes how worked up he’s gotten. 

"I’m just… I don’t want to mess this up," he admits, his voice small and vulnerable. "I want to make sure you’re okay, that the baby’s okay. I’m freaking out because… I care so much." You smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly. 

"I know you do. But you don’t have to do it all by yourself. We’ll take it one step at a time, okay?" He nods, taking a deep breath as he tries to calm himself down. But as he looks at you, something shifts in his expression—something deeper, more serious. He hesitates for a moment as if weighing his words, before finally speaking.

"I need to tell you something," he says quietly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. 

"I’ve been freaking out, not just because of the baby, but because… this is so much more to me than just being friends." Your breath catches in your throat as he continues, his voice trembling slightly. Your heart raced as you stared at him,

"I love you," he confesses, his eyes shining with emotion. "Not just as a friend, but as something more. I think I’ve loved you for a while now, but I didn’t know how to say it. And now, with this… I can’t keep it to myself anymore." For a moment, the room is silent, the weight of his words hanging between you. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face as you reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin.

"I love you too, Jimin," you whisper, your voice full of warmth.

"I think I’ve felt this way for a long time too." Relief floods his face, and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His eyes soften as he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. 

"We’re going to be okay," he murmurs against your skin, his voice filled with newfound confidence. "We’ll figure this out together. And I promise, I’ll be there for you and our baby every step of the way." He runs his hands over your stomach.

TAEHYUNG:

You and Taehyung are sitting on the bathroom floor, your knees pulled up to your chest as you wait for the pregnancy test results. The silence between you is thick with tension, the air heavy with the gravity of the situation. Taehyung, usually so calm and collected, fidgets beside you, his fingers tapping nervously against the tiles. He glances over at you, his eyes filled with concern. 

The two of you had been worried for a while since you'd been sick lately and he was the one that thought of the pregnancy test first.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks softly, breaking the silence.  You nod, trying to muster a small smile despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. 

"I’m okay, just… scared." You admitted. If you were pregnant everything was going to change. It wasn't just going to be sex without strings anymore, There would be A LOT of strings.

Taehyung shifts closer to you, his hand gently finding yours. He squeezes it, his touch warm and reassuring. 

"I know this is scary," he says, his voice steady despite the fear you can see lurking in his eyes. 

"But whatever happens, I’m here for you. I mean it." You look at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but all you see is sincerity. 

"Taehyung, this… this wasn’t part of the plan. We were just… you know." He nods, his expression serious but tender. 

"I know. We started this as friends with benefits, and I thought I could keep it casual, but… it’s never been just that for me." His voice softens, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. 

"I’ve cared about you more than I ever let on. And now, with this… it just makes me realize how much I want to be there for you. For us." His words hang in the air, their weight settling into the pit of your stomach alongside the anxiety. 

"You really mean that?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly as tears begin to run down your cheeks.

"I do," he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours with a determination that leaves no room for doubt. 

"No matter what happens—whether the test is positive or negative—I’m in this for the long run. You’re not just someone I’ve been seeing; you’re someone I care about deeply. We’ll figure this out together, okay?"

The timer on your phone buzzes, signalling that the test is ready. Your heart races, but Taehyung’s grip on your hand tightens, grounding you in the moment.

"Whatever that test says," he whispers, his voice calm and soothing, 

"We’re going to be okay. We’ll face it together." He nodded at you.  Taking a deep breath, you both lean forward to look at the result. As your eyes scan the test, your emotions swell, but before anything else, you feel Taehyung’s arms wrapping around you, pulling you close.

"We’ll be okay. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere." He promised you as you nodded. His words fill you with a sense of security you hadn’t realized you needed, a promise that no matter what the future holds, you won’t face it alone. 

JUNGKOOK:

As soon as the words "I'm Pregnant" left your lips it had left Jungkook in a state of shock. You almost worried he'd had a heart attack and you weren't sure what you were meant to be doing.

"Jungkook?" You touched his hand softly and he looked down at your hands that were intertwined together. This whole thing had never meant to end this way and yet here you were. One drunken night, one broken condom later and Jungkook felt his whole world changing. Jungkook’s heart races as the words hit him again and again, he slowly looks up at you. 

"Pregnant?" he whispers, almost to himself. His expression shifts from shock to anxiety, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The two of you agreed that this was meant to be something that was only stress relief. Friends with benefits. That was it. 

"This wasn’t supposed to happen… I didn’t mean for this to get so complicated." He looks at you with conflicted eyes, struggling between his feelings for you and the fear of what this means for both of your futures. 

"What do we do now?" He took your hand in his and squeezed softly, while it might not be what he had planned for you there was no way he was going to let you go through any of this alone. It was the two of you that had created the baby and it was going to be the two of you raising them.

"I wanted to talk to you first, and see what you thought I-I should do." your voice shook a little and he smiled weakly, while it might not have been the best scenario he was happy he was going to be a father.

"Well, we get you booked in with a doctor, we get you all the medications you're gonna need and then we go to every single scan together. Do you wanna know the gender? Do you wanna have a baby shower-" Your hand slowly covered his mouth as you let out a small giggle.

"You want to go through with it then?" You asked him before he nodded behind your hand, a giant smile taking over his face.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

hello 🩷recently found and loved your account so i’m here to ask from you!!

criminal minds SSA aaron hotchner x reader

i’d love any explicit smut 😋

ideal trope(s) would be jealousy, established but secret relationship due to workplace like the whole thing stems from AH being jealous af that you’re getting hit on or smth and he can’t do shy about it in public but oh when ur home.. 👀👀👀

hahaha sorry the brain rot is real

thank you if you do this!!

and i hope u never stop writing i’ve been reading ur other posts too i love them sm

༉‧₊˚. 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

— summary: your new relationship brings out a side of aaron that he had never seen before.

— warnings: established relationship, jealousy (obvi), unprotected sex, rough sex, teasing, couch sex, aaron lowkey bends you like a pretzel, heavy praise, he taps you on the cheek (lovingly ofc), implied creampie, consent king aaron!!, slightly insecure aaron, implied age gap but not specified, body massages and an implied size kink!

— wc: 2018

⋆ a/n: WOW a long smut fic, who would have thought? anywho, i'm trying to break free from posting headcanons because i just know they'll overtake this account. thank you for this request!

masterlist | AO3

Aaron felt his eye twitch. 

His eye never twitches.

The culprit? The maintenance man that won’t stop talking to you. 

He had so much paperwork he needed to complete, the stack of it had begun to tower, but Aaron couldn’t manage to get himself to focus on anything else but you. 

Your relationship was fairly new, so you both had just agreed to keep it low-key for now. It wasn’t like you guys were lying, how could you when you were constantly surrounded by nosy profilers? 

With new relationships came new feelings, and one of them he hadn’t felt since he was a young man somehow managed to resurface right under his nose: jealousy.

Yes, he had his moments of jealousy when he had first gotten with Hailey, but this? This was different. The age gap between the two of you wasn’t that large, but it was considerable enough that when he saw men closer to your age creeping around you, it always put him in a foul mood.

Like right now he just wants to storm down there and kiss you right in front of that stupid kid. The urge was primal and unfamiliar, and quite frankly it drove him insane.

Aaron was sure you hadn’t meant to come off as flirtatious, and who were your colleagues to step in if you looked genuinely interested in the guy? For all they knew you were single.

Oh, yeah, this was going to drive him over the edge, and it was all your fault.

It was safe to say you were excited when Aaron had decided to call it an early night, you just hadn’t expected him to jump on you as soon as you breached the threshold of your home.

He didn’t give you time to think or even put your things down, his briefcase followed along by your purse collapsed to the floor with a surprisingly loud thud!

Your lungs burned and your face was hot, heated between the two furnaces that were Aaron’s large and work-worn hands. You desperately clung onto the sleeves of his suit jacket, the material twisting between your fingers to keep yourself sturdy as he walked backwards.

“A- Aaron wha - what’s going on?” You pleaded breathlessly. You had to slightly shove the man away even though you were met with his uncharacteristic resistance. He just stood there and stared at you like a wild man, pupils dilated and chest rising and falling with every hastened breath he took.

He shook his head and blinked, like his thoughts were escaping him. Aaron couldn’t think when you looked at him like that; your lips kiss swollen with a light sheen of spit, your blouse covered breasts grazing his firm chest.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Was all he could say before reconnecting your lips. 

He continues to walk backwards before the back of his calves meet the couch. He allows himself to drop down with a slight oomf, his needy hands tugging on yours encouragingly until you clambered onto his lap.

He didn’t give you time to show him any hesitancy, his palms gripping your hips firmly and all but holding you down against him. You gasped at the feeling, your fingers scratching at the shaved hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Aaron! What has gotten into you?” The question was a flustered giggle. Aaron’s eyes casted to the side in a rare show of nervousness. 

“It’s ridiculous.” He mutters. “I can bet you a million dollars that whatever you’re going to say isn’t as silly as you think it is.”

“It was that guy. The one that wouldn’t stop talking to you.” It took you a moment to think back on it before you finally understood what he meant. “The maintenance man? What about him?”

“He was flirting with you, and - I don’t know, it made me feel things I haven’t in a long time.”

Saying the actual word jealousy seemed so juvenile to Aaron; he was a grown ass man with a grown ass man job, so what right did he have to be acting like this?

“Oh.” It was long and drawn out. You felt a smirk begin to form on your face and you gently coaxed his eyes to meet yours. Aaron’s gaze was unsure. 

“You know I’m yours, right? I don’t want anyone else that isn’t you, no matter how young, rich or tall.” Your hips begin to grind down on his and Aaron chokes back a groan. His grip on your flesh gets stronger and it draws a whimper out of you.

“Yeah?” He asks sensually, his voice a low purr. He aids in your grinding and your head grows fuzzy. “Yeah.”

He’s quick to reposition the both of you, your back now resting on the couch cushions. He kisses down your neck, nipping lightly at the skin there. It sends a shiver down your spine and your lower half canting up, desperately searching for friction. 

Your hot cunt meets his knee. “Ah! Aaron.” You whined, fingers digging into his shoulders. Your boyfriend has one foot on the ground and the other wedged between your legs.

Aaron rises from your chest for a moment, shoving off his suit jacket and working the buttons on his shirt. You take it upon yourself to take your blouse off, arms reaching behind you to unclasp your bra with learned precision. 

His eyes fall on your breasts and you could have sworn his movements gained a bit of franticness.

“Like what you see?” You couldn’t help but tease, your hands now working to shimmy your pencil skirt down your thighs. “Very much.” Aaron agrees with a lazy half smile. “Here, let me help.” You lift your hips up and he takes both your panties and skirt off at the same time.

The casual show of strength made your stomach clench, and you all but snatched Aaron by the back of his neck back down to your level. A noise of surprise escapes him and you take it as a chance to slip your tongue in his mouth.

Your body begins to heat up, his taking grabs and grips driving you insane.

“Fuck me.” You heave. Aaron pulls away from you, “Are you sure? You aren’t prepared well yet, and I don’t want to hurt you.” You smile softly. “As much as I appreciate your concern about me, I’ll let you know if there’s any discomfort, okay?”

Aaron thinks on your words for a moment, mulling them about in his brain before relenting at the feeling of your sweet, tempting hands stroking his bare chest.

“You always have to keep me on my toes, don’t you?” 

“That was in the agreement.” You bite playfully. He snorts and rolls his eyes, but sits up once more to unbutton his pants. 

With what feels like forever, he’s finally bare for your hungry eyes and clambering on top of you.

Resuming his old position, he wraps your legs around his waist, the tip of his cock poking at your slit. The two of you shiver at the feeling.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart? You know I don’t mind eating you out; I’m in no rush.” Your cheeks turn warm at his crudeness. “I’m sure, baby. I need you. Now.” With one final search of your face, he begins to push forward.

Your breath catches in your throat and you hold on to his muscular biceps. Your eyes flutter shut at the full feeling of him, your legs trembling and stomach tightening. 

The first initial stretch hurts of course, but with a minute of laying there adjusting to Aaron’s size as he delivers very stimulating circles on your clit to distract you from the discomfort, you find yourself loosening up.

“Move.” You grunted quietly. 

Aaron’s jaw is set tight, the vein in his forehead slightly bulging when he proceeds to thrust experimentally. Your lips roll in between your teeth to hold back the whorish moan that threatens to practically barrel out of you. 

He does it again, and again, and again, until all of his self control is thrown out the window and the only thing he can think of is you; of how tight you are around him.

“It feels so good, baby. So, so good…” You babble, your hands reaching up to grip the armrest of the couch for more leverage. “I know honey, I know. ‘M gonna get deeper, okay?” Aaron groans. You nod wildly, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of your face.

He steadies himself on the knee placed on the couch, lifting your legs up so either one sits on his big, broad shoulders. 

The change in position caused your back to arch, your mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ shape as you struggled to keep your head on straight.“Mphm! You’re so - you’re so deep.” You cried out, tears brimming on your eyelashes. “I know I am, baby. But you can take it right?”

“Mhm! I can! I know I can!” 

“You can take it because you’re mine right? Because you’re my good girl?” 

His praise pushes you dangerously close to the edge, and you’re honestly convinced that the crescent shape of your nails will leave an imprint on the material forever. The couch cushions stick to your skin like glue, the so of skin hitting skin resounded throughout the room lewdly.

A hand lightly slapped your face, your cheeks squeezed between his fingers, puckering slightly.

“I asked you a question, didn't I sweetheart?”

“You did, you did! ‘M sorry. ‘M your good girl, please.”

What you were begging for, you didn’t know; was it mercy? Was it a desperate call for your sanity? Whatever it was could wait, because you were going to cum.

“Gah! God, Aaron, ‘m gonna cum! Help me cum, please.” You begged again. “I got you honey.”

Aaron’s hand slithered down your body before landing on your clit, a calloused thumb drawing it around in firm circles. Your body moved and convulsed violently, your moans growing in volume – you’re sure you’re going to receive a noise complaint in the mail later.

That coil in your stomach threatened to snap, and all you could think to say was, “Cum with me?” 

To be frank, Aaron was ready to cum a few thrusts before, but he was always one to prolong his pleasure if that meant satisfying you.

“Of - of course.” He stuttered, his dominance slowly slipping away from him.

Aaron bent forward just a little more to test how far he could push you, and though you were sure your muscles were going to ache when everything died down, but God, this was so, so worth it.

“F- fuck!” You swore as you came.

Everything disappeared for a moment besides the sound of Aaron’s guttural groan that sounded more like a loud, long-drawn-out whimper than anything when he came too.

You were slowly brought back to reality by Aaron massaging your sore muscles, gently twisting them and rubbing out any potential knots that threatened to form. You knew he'd disappear in a minute to grab something to wipe you down with, but you couldn’t seem to find it within your post orgasmic bliss to care.

“Mm, that’s nice.” You rasped, your eyelids fluttering open to face your disheveled boyfriend. His hair was all out of place in the best way possible, his bare body shining in a clear sheen of sweat. If you weren’t so tired, you think you’d jump straight to a round two.

“I’m sure,” Aaron’s voice was just as hoarse as yours. “I think I pushed your body a bit too far.”

“Don’t get started, Aaron.” You chided lightly. “It was perfect, okay? You were perfect. Now get up here.” 

You dragged him from where he was and laid his body on top of yours.

“Down.” You demanded playfully. “I’m heavy, honey.”

“Don’t care.” You exaggerated the ‘don’t’ and pulled the rest of him down.

“I want to lay like this for a minute.”

“Alright,” Aaron nodded to himself. “I can do a minute.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[aventurineswife]

aventurine, sunday, and any others when reader pretends to not remember them after a bad injury hehe…[angst with fluff at the end] i love giving my poor babies heart attacks mwahaha

anyways love u and ur writings btw k byeee drink water ok byeee 💕✨

“I'm sorry, but who are you?”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Soft Fluff, Light Humor Angst to Fluff, Established Relationship, Memory Loss, Reassurance.

Warnings: Emotional distress (brief moments of fear and confusion).

A/N: thanks for the reminder, anon! 😪😮‍💨I really need to drink some water

Aventurine's eyes widened, his usual playful smirk faltering as you looked at him, confusion clouding your gaze. He reached out, as though instinctively wanting to close the distance between you, but he hesitated. Your words cut through the air, soft and fragile.

"You… you are… who exactly?"

The words stung more than he expected. His heart raced in his chest as he observed the faint, distant look in your eyes. He had always been in control of the game, masterful in reading people, but this? This was a blow to his carefully constructed facade.

"You don’t remember me?" His voice was softer now, the bravado slipping as his pulse quickened.

You shook your head, an empty feeling creeping into your chest. "I don’t think so. Sorry… am I supposed to?"

Aventurine's smile faltered, and for a moment, you saw something raw beneath his cool exterior. Pain. Fear. He stepped back slightly, trying to hide the cracks forming in his walls.

"I suppose I’ve miscalculated…" he muttered to himself, voice barely audible.

But then, you reached out and touched his arm gently.

"I—"

Aventurine looked at you, his breath catching in his throat as you softly smiled. "I do remember you, though. Maybe I was just… testing you?"

The game was on again, but this time, it was different. He chuckled, a soft, relieved sound that made the weight of his worries lift just a little.

"You're dangerous, you know that?" he said, his voice returning to its usual lighthearted tone, though there was an underlying tenderness now.

You smiled. "I think I’ll keep you on your toes."

And with that, the shadows of doubt lifted, replaced by the warmth of your presence—one he could no longer imagine being without.

Sunday stood there, his eyes darkened with a mix of concern and confusion, staring at you as if you were a stranger. His fingers twitched slightly, an impulse to reach out, to make sure you were real, that you hadn’t slipped into some other world.

"You… you don’t recognize me?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper, fragile under the weight of his own disbelief.

You blinked at him, the blank look in your eyes unnerving him more than he cared to admit. "I’m sorry… I don’t think I do. Are we… close?"

The air between you seemed to freeze, thick with unspoken emotions. His mind was racing—how could you forget him, forget everything you had shared? The kindness, the warmth, the bond he’d built so carefully with you...

"I see," Sunday murmured, his gaze softening with a hint of sadness. "I suppose it’s a part of the dream, isn't it? To forget… to lose everything."

You could see the strain in his expression, the hope fading from his eyes. "Sunday, I… I didn’t mean to forget you."

You reached for him, your hand trembling as you touched his sleeve. The contact seemed to pull him out of his thoughts, and his breath caught.

A moment of stillness.

Then Sunday smiled faintly, the sadness still lingering. "I suppose we’ll just have to make you remember, won't we?" His voice was gentle, though you could hear the underlying fear in it.

You smiled, this time with a reassurance he needed. "I think I already do."

A sigh escaped him, a soft, grateful breath as he pulled you into his arms.

"Don't ever scare me like that again." he murmured into your hair, holding you close.

Ratio’s usual air of unshakable confidence was nowhere to be seen. He stood before you, his eyes wide with confusion and an almost frantic edge to his movements.

"You—don’t remember me?" he repeated, his voice betraying a crack he hadn’t expected.

You stared at him, trying to piece together the fragments of the world around you, the details of his appearance leaving you more unsettled than anything. "I… I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you."

His frown deepened, his expression unreadable but filled with something you couldn't quite place—was it hurt? Disbelief?

"I see. This is… unfortunate," he said, voice smooth yet tinged with something that didn’t fit. He folded his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing slightly. "I expected better from your memory."

You looked at him more closely, sensing a vulnerability underneath the sharpness of his demeanor. He was, despite his intellectual brilliance, losing himself in this.

You took a step closer, closing the distance between you, your hand reaching for his, gently catching his wrist. "I’m sorry… but I’m sure we’ve met before. I just—"

He paused, his sharp breath catching in his throat as he looked down at your hand on his. For a brief moment, his composure cracked, and you could see the raw emotion behind his usually controlled facade.

"Don't do this to me," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if the weight of the situation was too much to bear. "You must remember."

You smiled softly, understanding now. "I remember. You’re the one who always insists on teaching me things."

His gaze softened instantly, a relieved exhale leaving him. "Good."

Ratio’s usual brilliance returned, but this time, there was something gentler about him. "Perhaps next time, try not to lose your memory so easily."

And though his words were sharp, his hand reached out to take yours, a reassurance that you were not lost to him.

Me lmaoo

[jakedoxxenvasion]

dr.lee

fellow doctor heeseung! × resident doctor y/n!

warning: MDNI!, unprotective sex (whops) kissing and more?

not in a million years you would think you will do something like this, with someone that you adore so much.. someone that you look up to as a senior to you, someone that you met everyday and formally call him by his surname instead of..

"h-heeseung!"your sinful lips moaning for his name, "sshhh, you want them to hear you?"immediately you bite your bottom lips once getting that warn from him, he peck your lips and smile. "didn't expect you to be so obedient to me, love. such a good girl."you humming to everything he said to you, trying to not moan out his name.

you know what you did is wrong because you're just a doctor resident and he's your senior doctor, it's totally wrong but you couldn't stop him. not that you can't but you don't want to, having him pounding his cock so deep into you in the small store room in the middle of your night shift, the clock strike 3 in the morning as much as you remember when he call for you to help him earlier.

it's all start with you helping him with sorting out papers, and files of patients records and ending up finding yourself here in this room with him doing things that you could ever imagine in your right mind. "just a little more, does it hurt you, hm?"you shake your head, no he doesn't hurt you but the pleasure is too much.

heeseung smile when he kiss your lips, hips still rutting into you. he could feel your wall hugging him tight at each thrust he make, sending him over the cloud but he know that he cannot be loud. "s-shit, you're so fucking tight, love."he let out a low groan, watching how you try to control your own voices and somehow he like the way you did.

liking the idea of doing this in secret, liking the idea that there's an outside world that you try so hard it keep it out, not wanting people to find out about what the two of you did in this room. "fuck- heeseung i'm close ah-"he shut you up with his lips, kissing you so deep, cock still pounding in and out of you.

your fingers tangle with his hair, he push you against the wall, "cum for me, love."he whisper those once he pull away from the kiss, like a cue you could feel the feeling at the pit of your stomach rushing down. heeseung smile, letting you rode out all your orgasm with you weakly leaning on his shoulder, doesn't have much energy left in you.

he thrust into you once.. twice then he pull out from you, only to shot his loads on your stomach. "oh fuck."you watch those thick white liquid spurting out from his cock, messily on your skin. somehow, heeseung has those proud smile after everything that he had done with you. you look at him and he smirk, he peck your lips before he slowly put you down to make you stand on the ground.

"so fucking perfect, love."he caressed your cheek softly then continue to kiss your lips again. when he pull away, he stare into your eyes, "doctor.."your soft voice call for him, which make him chuckle. "that was not what you called me earlier, ms.y/n."your cheeks immediately turn red as his remarks, he continue to caressed your cheek as he stare into your eyes.

but then heeseung take a few step back, you watch him grab a box of tissue at the top shelf behind him and he rip it open before he help you clean up and get dress again. "so.. do i pretend like nothing happen earlier or-" "unless you want more, you can always come to my office, love."he interrupt your words then wink at you, blush immediately creep up your face.

you slowly nod your head, he pat your head then he open the door after grabbing a random file on the shelf. "later, make sure you keep everything in place again, okay? ms.y/n."he said, know it very well he did that on purpose, you follow him from behind after you fix your white coat. "sure, dr."

heeseung turn to look at you just to give you a wink before he walk away.

should i write a longer version of this? cause i kind of like the plot lol