#on my hands and knees trembling.. they were neighbors.........

[spaceratprodigy]

✨🌙 Iris and Tristan ☀️✨

@bogchampion — this one's for US and ONLY US!! a lil trissy n iris.. as a TREAT ☝️

> pose reference <

Commission Info | Ko-Fi | My Links

[shotmrmiller]

Ghost knew that declining any type of work in this industry wasn't ideal. He can do as he likes because Ghost is a name everyone knows, a porn actor no one forgets.

Unlike you, the newcomer. Still so green behind the ears.

So, with a downturn of your alluring lips, you inform him that the meeting to go over the upcoming threesome with Price would have to wait.

"My manager sent me an email this morning, very last minute, about a video I'm gonna shoot with Gaz."

The fingers that were tugging your hair still. "Oh yeah? Know wha' kinda scene your doin'?"

You softly hum. "He's to be my handyman neighbor. Gotta bat my eyes at him as I ask if he can come fix my kitchen sink."

Kyle's a decent bloke, a looker for sure.

He's an up-and-coming entertainer. The pretty boy next door, the brother's best friend type.

Face as if sculpted from marble, a smile to die for.

Beautiful, really. Not particularly Ghost's type though, he likes a little more meat on his bottoms. Not that what he thinks matters, of course.

"Tha's alrigh', love. We'll postpone it to after then, yeah?"

Ghost quietly sits behind Price with his arms crossed, never taking his sharp eyes off the small screen. Even though Kyle is there too, all he can see is you. Your rosy tongue tantalizingly licks your bottom lip as you give Kyle a once-over.

Smart fingers undoing the button on his trousers, hooking into the waistband, carefully pulling them down until they puddle at his ankles.

The way you gaze up at him through your lashes, with his cock in your pert mouth, taking him in until the tip of your nose grazes his trimmed pubic hair.

How your neck cranes back so beautifully, eyes fluttering closed as Kyle slides his expert tongue through your slick folds. Your soft thighs trembling as you buck into his mouth, the heels of your feet digging into his back. Ghost's ears catch the sound of your breath hitching, while his eyes feast on the delectable sight of your back arching off the kitchen counter as you reach your peak.

His fingers sink into his thick bicep when Kyle doesn't relent after; continues to lap away at your sodden cunt, pressing tiny kisses on your sensitive clit. Ghost's spine straightens instantly when he hears your pained whimper.

It's too much, Kyle needs to back off before he forcibly gets him off of you—

It takes less than a minute for you to reach another peak, squealing as you come.

Your airy laugh dissolves the tension in his shoulders and leans back into his chair.

Good.

He drinks in the euphoric expression on your face when Kyle slowly sinks into your wet heat— your sweet moan forever music to his ears. Ghost watches you jolt back on the counter with every sharp snap of Kyle's slim hips. He hears the breath punched out of you with each thrust. He can see your white, creamy release around the base of Kyle's thick length, strings of slick connecting you two.

Your hands curl around Kyle's forearms, your shaky legs wrapping around his waist.

Ghost's eyes narrow when Kyle leans forward to whisper something into your ear, and you mewl loudly. Ghost clenches his jaw so tightly that he hears a pop.

Kyle's got stamina, Ghost'll give him that. He fucked you through three orgasms until he finally pulled out and spurted thick cum over your mons.

Price calls it a wrap, and the crew begins to take down the lights and such.

Ghost doesn't move from the chair he's in, knowing that you'll come to him, even on unsteady legs.

And walk over you do, slowly but surely. "Hi, Ghost." He pats his thigh invitingly, gesturing you to sit.

"Hey, love. You did so well," he praises. "Looked a dream."

As you glance down in embarrassment, his dark eyes lock onto Kyle's, who stands with a cold water bottle in hand across the room. "Flatterer."

He holds Kyle's gaze a couple more seconds before flicking them to you. "Only tellin' the truth, pet. Alrigh', let's get outta here. Ya hungry?"

He places an arm around your lower back, the other under your knees, and lifts you off his lap.

"Don't even try to pull tha' dietin' bullshit on me either," he chides.

He huffs in amusement when you sputter.

[cinnamonest]

Ataraxis

"Failed Escape Attempt" prompt - Akechi Goro (Persona 5)

Finally completed this amidst my myriad of hospital visits this month. Prolonged viral anaphylaxis works hard but the spirit of degeneracy works harder 🙏

warnings/notes: dark content, noncon, fem reader, implied significant age gap, captivity, electronic monitoring/shock collar, asphyxiation, abuse, vague suicide references, bro has THE mommy issues of all time, mild stockholm, somewhat detailed backstory for reader (in which reader is a bit of an enabler)

----

Ataraxis - a state of tranquility, calmness, or peace of mind, free from mental stress or anxiety.

You hesitated. Your pulse was running fast, trepidation freezing your hand in place, just before you could touch the door.

No. You shook your head rapidly for a moment, trying to drive away the panicked thoughts. You couldn’t afford to waste time worrying about what-ifs, fueling your hesitancy. You’d done everything that you were supposed to in order for this to work. Gotten the doors unlocked, the wires cut, everything — you had to go through with it.

You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, pounding as you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and reached for the door handle, turning it slowly.

You wished it was an apartment that opened directly to the outdoors — that you'd feel the sun, breathe in fresh air, the moment you opened the door — but you were met with a hallway, and the number of the neighbor directly across plastered on the door. Light still poured in from the hall, into the otherwise dark apartment only dimly lit by a TV running off to the side of the room.

Regardless, undeterred, after a mere moment of hesitation, you took a step forward.

And then, your body seized up.

Your knees hit the ground, but you didn't even feel the pain of impact, every nerve overtaken by a sudden overpowering sensation, overwhelming your senses.

Gasping for air, your feet flailed, kicking outward as your hands and elbows desperately dug into the ground, all in a frantic movement to scramble away from the door. As you stumbled back, you practically threw the door itself forward, and it slammed shut.

After moving a short distance, just enough for the blast of overwhelmingly discomforting sensation to come to a sudden stop, your body turned onto your back as you collapsed onto the floor, shivering, each breath ragged and heaving.

For a moment, all you could do was lay there and tremble, grasping at your throat, the focus point of the shock, metallic prongs pressed into your skin beneath the layer of leather that clung around your throat. Your vision spun, and no coherent thought could even be formed in your head, the panic and discomfort consuming your capacity for thought.

Even as the sensation faded, there was still a twitching throughout your body, muscles in your arms and legs and extremities tensing over and over against your conscious volition. You weakly reached up, wiping away the trail of saliva that had spilled down the side of your face.

Your chest still rose and fell heavily, back arching against the ground it laid on with each inhale. Your eyes stared wide open at the ceiling — discolored, where some fixture had been ripped out and caulked over, you'd noticed before — vision fuzzy from tears, dizziness, and the trembling that overcame your body, mind spinning on the brink of consciousness.

And with that, even through the disorientation and disequilibrium that kept your consciousness spinning, you could still make out one particular thought, a realization that came as a harsh blow — failure.

A near tangible emotion that you could physically feel as its weight settled onto your chest.

And then disbelief — that can't be right that can't be right — you'd done everything you were supposed to, everything had gone perfectly as you'd planned.

Countless weeks down the drain. All that time spent in preparation for this very moment, not only nullified, but now undoubtedly turned against you for your own detriment.

And if the feeling hadn't brought you enough despair, if the frustration and dismay alone hadn't been enough to bring you to tears that began to well in your eyes, your body stiffened again as an acute sensation of discomfort ran through body once more. You glanced upward.

And then, an intense cold sprouted in your gut, rapidly seeping through your blood, a chill that ran through your bones and flesh.

Pure, unadulterated dread.

The electronic eye, the circular lenses poised directly at you from the corner of the ceiling, burned into your flesh. You could feel the sense of observation through the proxy of the device, transmitted over distance and invisible waves no differently than the image the camera would project to the phone screen on the other end.

Your trembling hands slowly reached up to your neck, fingertips grazing the leathery material secured so tightly around your neck you could barely slide your fingers beneath it, just enough to feel the metallic prongs on the inner side that dug into the flesh.

That was the whole point of it all, the effort, the risks, the time and patience, accumulating every little thing you'd need for this one moment.

Everything had been so methodical, had to be executed with perfection and painstaking effort.

And yet, all for nothing.

Your legs were still trembling too intensely to stand. You weakly propped yourself up on one elbow, weary eyes scanning your surroundings in the small apartment, until you saw the shape of the small device where you’d left it sitting on the edge of the bed. You shuffled your way over to it, dragging yourself along the floor.

Slowly, summoning your strength, you pushed your elbows to the ground and forced yourself to sit upright, before lifting yourself up on shaky legs, just to practically fall down onto the mattress, reaching out to grasp the phone in your hand.

He was busy. He had things to do. He might not have checked any notifications that popped up. Maybe.

The flip phone was inconvenient on your end — a long since outdated piece of technology, incapable of accessing the internet, and easily restricted with built-in parental controls used decades ago, impossible to circumvent despite many attempts. It was capable of receiving and sending calls to a single number, as well as receiving texts from the same number.

The cold sheets began to warm under the heat of your body as you nestled into them. With the pillow close to your face, you could hear your own shuddering breaths in greater clarity, see your own fingers gripping the sheets with such force that the flesh around your finger joints went lighter.

You glanced at the tiny screen on the front of the closed phone.

‘11:52 a.m.’

Your heart skipped a beat — it was much closer to the daily call than you had hoped. You must have been lying on the floor longer than you realized. You only had a few minutes to prepare yourself.

Yes, he wouldn’t call you the very second he saw what you’d done. He would just stick to the usual schedule. He liked routines.

You sat fully upright, leaning back against the wall one side of the bed pressed against. You drew your knees up to your chest, hugging your arms around them, eyes glued to the small screen.

‘11:53 a.m.’

You could do nothing but sit there and wait.

The helplessness and futility quickly turned to despair. The full weight of your failure began to set in.

It had taken so long to execute the plan in full. You weren't even sure exactly why it failed — your own error, a backup battery of some kind, maybe.

Not that it mattered now.

Your mind raced over each little step taken, all to culminate in futility, but any structure to your thoughts simply fell apart into bitter defeat.

You were brought out of your thoughts by shifting of numbers on the screen, several minutes having passed.

‘11:58 a.m.’

You could feel each beat of your heart, the pressure of blood circulating through your head and your throat. Your stomach churned.

‘11:59 a.m.’

You sat still, staring with wide eyes, unable to do anything against the unstoppable force of the passage of time.

'12:00 p.m.'

No sooner had the numbers shifted, that the phone screen lit up brighter, and the device began to vibrate.

Your stomach tightened, a cold, stiff feeling seized your limbs and every muscle tensed as the phone rang. A name popped up on the little front screen.

‘Goro’

He'd been the one to put the number into the device, to assign that title to the contact. At first, you’d assumed he didn’t want to bother painstakingly typing out any more than necessary on the device’s old 12-digit typing system.

Or maybe keeping you physically separated from the world was not enough — if you couldn’t exist in the outside world, if you had to be separated from it, naturally, you couldn’t use the same name for him as everyone else, all those people on the television and the voices on the other end of the phone.

A confliction of instincts twisted in your gut — an impulse to answer it immediately, knowing not doing so could not go without repercussion, yet at the same time, you reflexively shrunk back, as if repelled by the sound, clutching your hands to your chest at the immediate revulsion to the mere thought of answering.

And it rang, twice, three times. Your mind ran blank, staring wide-eyed at the screen.

But between conflicting instincts, you knew what you had to do.

Thus, on the fourth ring, snapping out of your momentary stupor, shaking hands latching on and flipping the top upward, the word that came out in a wavering voice was—

“…Goro?”

Your voice came out rougher than you'd hoped, an obvious rasp from the strain.

If he noticed, he didn't acknowledge it. Instead—

“Good afternoon.”

The voice that came through the other end was bright and cheerful. The same voice that he used on talk shows and public addresses. Composed, amiable, fairly upbeat, without any trace of negativity.

And then, he added,

“What have you been up to today?”

It was such a light-hearted tone, you thought for a moment, with some desperate hope, that he hadn't noticed. Maybe it hadn't triggered a notification. Maybe he just didn't see it.

Or maybe it was a test. Maybe he wanted you to be transparent. You didn’t know. There was no way to know.

The lingering exhaustion from all the strain left you somewhat dazed, and you hesitated as you slowly summoned an answer.

“Oh, I just… I watched some TV earlier…” You tilted your gaze over to said television as it continued to run silently off to the side of the room, a mere distraction kept on for some semblance of stimulus. “They… they were talking about the phantom thief people on the news again.”

He sighed. You tensed for a moment, worried that perhaps it was something that would only frustrate him, knowing the matter was a bit of a sore subject.

But instead, it seemed to be merely a part of the flow of conversation — he accepted your so-very-forced and awkward shift of subject without resistance.

“It’s all anyone ever talks about, recently.” You heard a shuffling sound, presumably shifting his posture. “The average person is only invested in the matter as a form of entertainment. It's distant enough from them personally that they can afford to treat it as such.”

“O-oh, right…” Struggling to think of something else, to further steer the topic away from yourself, you continued, “…Are you at school?”

“No, I'm at the station. The police called me in to help with something new, but…” he sighed again before continuing, “it turned out to be incredibly simple, and they’re already done with it. I don’t know why they thought they needed to take up my time with this…”

His voice got a little lower as he spoke, irritation breaking through the winsome charm that characterized that public-facing voice of his. Within a moment, though, it snapped right back to the correct gentleness as he continued—

“On the bright side, I only have a few things left to do, so I can come back to you a little sooner than usual.”

Your fingers clenched at the fabric of your shirt, your shoulders going tense.

“Oh, good…”

Your mouth felt dry. Your mind scrambled to think of anything else to say, but a heavy fog drenched your thoughts away, leaving nothing but a blank slate, unable to generate anything coherent.

There was another moment of pause.

"You sound a bit out of it. You're not feeling faint from earlier, are you?"

You blinked, the very daze of brain-fog he referred to making you slower to take in the words.

"I... What?"

He didn't miss a beat, nor falter in his tone, as he clarified—

"From the shock, I mean."

Your body tensed, shrinking back as if the words had truly been the gut punch they felt like. Your jaw hung ajar, your mind scrambling for a response.

Quiet seconds ticked by. Your shoulders rose and fell with harsh, short breaths.

"I… I guess a little…” You fidgeted nervously, fingers further curling into the fabric of the shirt that covered your upper half.

The voice on the other end remained upbeat and gentle even still.

"Ah. Well, try not to walk around, okay? The lingering effects can make you uncoordinated for some time." After a pause, he added, "I wouldn't want you to fall over and hurt yourself."

Your mouth felt dry. You shifted around in place.

“Oh… okay…”

You swallowed. Your eyes darted around the apartment.

You turned your bottom lip inward, biting down on it to alleviate your nerves, only for the sharp pain to stop you as soon as the pressure touched the spot where the flesh of your lower lip was already busted. One of many sore, bruised spots that littered your body.

The discomfort at the following pause of silence was nearly tangible. Your natural instinct was to shift away from the matter as quickly as possible, shame and fear and uncertainty forming a hard knot in your stomach, but no words came to mind.

Sensing that you weren't going to continue, he spoke again.

“Well, in that case, I'll see you soon—’

“H-hey, wait…”

Your voice was undoubtedly audibly uneasy, but he still replied with the same soft tone.

“Mm? What is it?”

You opened and closed your mouth, once, twice, struggling to collect your panicked thoughts coherently. He waited, patiently, not saying a word.

“…About that.” The single phrase was all you could manage.

"Ah, right.”

At that point, his voice was too upbeat, so unfitting the turn of conversation, that the reality of it being forced was no longer deniable, a fact that made your stomach churn.

As the pause lingered, he added in an equally calm, matter-of-fact tone, “well, if there's anything you wanted to say, now would be the time to tell me. It’s only fair to give you a moment to do so.”

You would have preferred bitterness and vitriol in his tone, accusations, promises of consequence. Anything else. The unease and uncertainty of the pretense of normality, of nothing being wrong, felt crushing.

“It…” You swallowed. “That, that was an accident, I just, I got too close and…”

It felt as if your throat closed up, unable to say anything more.

There was silence on the other end of the line. Suffocating, so heavy it was tangible, physically weighing down on your chest.

As the moments of quiet passed, you could very faintly hear sounds on the other end, people walking, distant unintelligible chatter from other people passing in the near vicinity.

Finally, a voice came through — several decibels lower than moments prior, a flat and empty tone; quiet, but spoken more closely to the receiver, ensuring that the words were directly in your ear.

“…You don't actually expect me to believe that, do you?”

You remained frozen in place, eyes wide, hand now curled into fists so tightly your knuckles paled.

He waited. There was no need to ask if something was the matter or wonder about a poor connection, the way one might normally do when met with silence on the other end of the line. There was only tension, dread, a mutual knowing.

You swallowed again before you spoke, barely above a whisper.

“…No.”

There was a soft, lighthearted laugh on the other end, a transition back to the same gentle voice as before, as if he’d never deviated from it.

“Ah, that’s good. Truthfully, I'd feel a little insulted if you thought I was that gullible.” You heard some background noise, a shuffling sound, perhaps standing or shuffling positions. “Well, anyway, as I was saying, I’ll be back a bit early. I’m already allowed this day off from school, so there’d be no point in going back when I don’t have to.”

Your lower jaw hung ajar, tongue dry and stiff. The television off to your side changed subject matter on the screen, the new set of colors shifting the hue that the dim light cast onto the walls.

“Oh, great! I…”

You swallowed, barely able to feign a happy tone, struggling to form any further words over the feeling of your stomach turning in on itself.

You knew that your attempt at faux cheerfulness to your voice was not convincing either of you. He knew the true emotion you felt in your chest and your gut, you knew he knew, he knew you knew he knew. Whether you kept the act up regardless out of some fear or desire to appease, or simply a lifetime of conditioning to the politeness norms of human interaction, maybe both, you weren’t certain. It was just the norm you’d settled into, the act that kept things at a peaceful equilibrium — until those inevitable moments that it fell apart, and the great pretend-act came to however long of a halt it would.

Another set of seconds ticked by. Far too long of a pause to be socially acceptable, far out of the bounds of normalcy, yet he merely waited for you to finish once more, neither acknowledging nor expressing any confusion or concern to the duration of your pause, letting you compose yourself to finally reply.

“…I’ll be right here.”

It was the only thing you could think of to say, though you felt a sharp sting in your chest of self-directed frustration at the recognition of the wavering of your own voice.

His response, unlike yours, was immediate, and the bite of the words made every muscle in your body tense.

“Well, I would certainly hope so.”

In the mere moment your breath hitched, there was a chime tone indicating the end of connection.

Even with the call ended, you merely sat frozen still, staring at the shifting colors that bounced off the wall. Slowly, your hand descended from your face, arm lowering down to your lap as your shivering fingers finally forced the phone shut with a heavy snapping sound.

You set it down on the bedside table, and you found yourself sitting still, trembling, eyes wide open as you were left with nothing to do but wait.

He was a fairy predictable person. To a significant extent, you knew how he'd react to certain actions and words and gestures, based on moods, circumstances, good days and bad days.

The issue was not a matter of not knowing what to do — but knowing there was nothing you could do. There was no deescalating, no appeasing, no way to atone for a given transgression. The one thing you'd learned very quickly was that if he was upset, there was no way to soothe it on your own, you simply had to endure whatever came your way.

And that knowledge brought despair.

You found yourself slowly letting yourself fall to your side, curling up into yourself as you came to lay on the mattress.

There was a pinching discomfort against your side. The fabric of your shirt had bunched up, digging into your skin where you lay on top of it. You shifted, lifting your back enough to pull it down and straighten it out. It was deliberately oversized, designed for wearing around the home, so that and equally soft shorts were all you’d needed — perhaps not changing was another oversight in your plan, you realized with a twinge of bitterness.

You had to admit you were well-taken care of in many ways. He’d given you quite a lot of clothes to wear, so you picked that which was comfortable to wear when all you did was lay down all day.

Although, he’d never bought anything — rather, they all came from an aged-looking box pulled out of the closet, everything perhaps a decade or so outdated. He did insist on you wearing them, refusing to retrieve anything of yours even if you asked.

Just like he insisted you needed to have your hair a certain length, to wear the specific perfume he'd hunted down just to buy for you, to follow a handful of oddly specific regulations, all of which were met with defensiveness and dismissal if you inquired as to why.

You preferred to not think about the matter.

The TV colors shifted again, this time to a drastically increased brightness. Your eyes squinted at the slight sensation of burning, long since adjusted to darkness. The windows were covered up now, and the lamp in the corner had run out of battery, seeing as it was very specifically cordless.

You pulled the covers over your head, and let your face contort with the oncoming tears that welled in your eyes. You curled up into a ball, bunching up part of the sheets and tugging them close to your chest.

Your shoulders jerked with miserable sobs, and you bit your quivering lip, this time even disregarding the pain, as the despair took hold. You wiped at your eyes, flinching as the touch sent more ripples of pain from the swollen, sore right side of your cheekbone where a bruise had formed from the events of — when was it, the day before yesterday? The day before that? You weren’t even entirely certain, the days had long since all begun to bleed into each other, lacking any distinguishable beginning or end.

You had no recollection of falling asleep, but the next thing you were aware of was your body jolting at the sudden sound from the door that woke you.

There was a metallic rustling. Normally, at that point in the routine, you would hear each in the series of locks turned with a click, one by one — only now, after the first, he seemed to realize each had already been unlocked, yet another part of your earlier attempt that, you now realized with a twinge of dread, you’d forgotten to even try to cover up.

Thus, the door merely slowly swung open, the flat door handle — implemented to replace a traditional knob — shifting to the side.

Slow, heavy footsteps on the cold tile.

"I'm back."

It wasn't cheerful, but it wasn't angry. A flat tone that sounded more exhausted than anything.

It felt as if your stomach were going to lurch up out of your throat.

You pushed yourself upward on your arms, and forced a weak, wavering smile.

"Ah... Welcome home…”

You closed your eyes, rubbing at them with the heel of your hand to ward off residual sleepiness, hoping your eyes weren't visibly puffy. You sat upright and pulled your knees up to your chest, making room for another body on the small bed.

Setting the briefcase down on the floor, he then held up a convenience store plastic bag for a second, giving it a slight shake to draw attention before setting it down on the countertop.

“I got something for us both. Whenever you want it.”

“Thanks.”

As if it weren't the case each day — you'd offered more than once to cook something out of sheer boredom, but that meant giving you knives, and the idea was swiftly rejected, and he certainly couldn't do it himself, thus you both lived off of convenience store food.

You could hear the rustling sound as he took the layers of clothing off. The thumping of shoes as they were pulled off and placed on a rack. The suit jacket went on a hook near the door, but everything else was loosely set on top of a set of drawers, until he was down to briefs and an undershirt.

It was almost a bit odd, he looked out of place — someone normally so poised and formal, who so carefully crafted every detail of both his appearance and demeanor to appear intelligent and charming, qualities to endear himself to the masses, yet executed to such a degree of perfection that he seemed nearly untouchable — and here and now, taking on such a flawed, mundane form.

His posture went more lax, his eyelids seemed to fall, and the removal of the outer shirt had messed up his hair just a bit. As if in the act of taking off layers of clothing, he was stripping himself too of the public face.

Your eyes glanced over at the drawers — the clothes were merely strewn loosely on the top, accompanied by an empty water bottle, a plastic wrapper from something he'd brought home the day prior. Little flaws, the casual messiness expected of normal young man.

You'd found it almost amusing, the first time you'd set foot in here — for someone who was such a perfectionist in every other aspect of life, so obsessed with image and impressions and maintaining a flawless presentation, so determined to put up that aura of maturity so far above what was expected or even normal for his years — it was all shed off behind that door, like a snake to its skin.

You, too, were a part of it, one of the many testaments to the imperfection only allowed in this little haven away from the ever-watching eyes of the world.

And now, slowly making his way over to the bed with weary, dragging footsteps — hair disheveled by the undressing, the absence of the stiff material of the uniform that always made his shoulders look a bit more broad, up close and in person with no camera and screen and lighting to hide the textures of the flesh of one's face or the ever so slight darkness under his eyes, and with half-lidded, glazed-over eyes of a spirit worn down by a long, busy day — was a very normal, very human teenage boy, not so different from any other after all.

You looked up at him and forced a weak smile.

His eyes, however, were shifted downward from you, glancing at the sheets. Whether it was just tiredness or unwillingness to look you in the eye, you weren't certain.

You'd somewhat expected him to confront you the moment he opened the door, be it with direct aggression or passive coldness, or perhaps to continue the feigned act of pleasantness.

But instead, you received only quiet stillness, a neutral expression — and that was somehow far more frightening.

Instead, the mattress shifted and creaked as he climbed on, quietly pulling the blanket up to move beneath it. You wriggled backwards to make more room for him.

He moved to sit beside you. Not touching, but with the close proximity only people who were close to one another would be comfortable with.

And he'd stay that way, if you did nothing. Trial and error had proven that as well. If you did nothing, he would never move, would never get closer, waiting for you to do it with increasing irritation the longer you took.

You had to initiate these things. He never told you when you were supposed to give affection, never asked for touch or comfort, leaving you to try to decipher what was desired.

Of course, if you tried to provide those things at the wrong time or for the wrong reason, you'd also be in the wrong — then, you were being manipulative, hiding something, trying to distract. You were often deemed to have acted incorrectly regardless.

This was, thankfully, a repetitive, daily routine, so you were fairly certain you knew what was correct.

Fighting back a sense of dread, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his frame, making a soft sound as you gently pulled him back. He went with the motion easily, coming to lay down with you, facing each other.

You shuffled your body upwards and forward, reaching a shaky arm over his back, wrapping it around his frame and pulling him in so that his head rested against your chest. Only once you had done so was the gesture reciprocated, and you felt an arm reach around your waist.

You wondered if he could feel how hard and fast your heart pounded.

You tried to break the silence, finding some stimulation to be more bearable than pure silence.

“…How was your day?”

You felt his heavy breath against your chest. He exhaled, and with it, his body went lax, tension leaving his shoulders as he slumped further into the bed and against your body.

“Difficult.”

The word came out muttered, audibly laced with exhaustion and frustration.

“…Well, it’s over now, at least. You should rest.”

Your attempts at words of comfort were not the best, distracted by your nervousness and unease. You attempted a soothing gesture, running your hands through his hair, then down his back, repeating the motion over and over. You felt even more tension leave his body, practically melting into the touch.

It had taken him a long time to get used to that. A single graze of your fingers to his shoulder used to make him stiffen and recoil.

But over time, that defensive reaction faded, then he started leaning into the touch, and then he started to lean forward when your hand pulled away as if trying to bring it back, and soon he would sit closer, lean in further, fix his gaze at your hands — all but begging, yet never actually asking nor initiating, always waiting for you to be the one to close that gap.

But even though he seemed content, you didn't get a response to your words. That only made your nervousness increase.

Was he waiting for you to acknowledge it? You weren't certain. That sort of seemed like what he'd do. You just didn't know, couldn't be certain, and it ate further away at your nerves with each passing second.

As your eyes flickered over to the television again, you raised your eyebrows with recognition when the face on the screen registered. You attempted to stir some extent of conversation again.

"Hey... you're on TV."

"Mm." He didn't bother to open his eyes, much less turn back around to see.

Deciding from that response that it was better to not push further, you closed your eyes. The changing visuals of the television took form as shifting colors behind your eyelids.

Pressed up against each other, the back and forth movements of your bodies with each breath in and out was soothingly rhythmic, lulling you into momentary tranquility and ease. The atmosphere was so quiet, so gentle, you thought for a moment that perhaps the matter could simply be forgotten, that your mutual desire for peacefulness and rest outweighed any residual negative emotion.

Then you felt his fingers start to curl.

Slowly, they arched upward, the tips of his fingers pressing into your back, fingernails digging into the flesh through the fabric.

Your eyes shot open, and your heart began to speed up once more.

“…Goro?”

He didn't answer. His arms fully locked into place against your back, pulling himself ever closer to you, your collarbones digging into his forehead. He held you so tightly, with such strain, you felt his arms begin to tremble.

You squirmed in place, dread now returned in full force. You scrambled to find words in an attempt to deescalate.

“Hey, hey— listen, I'm sorry, I just—”

“Don't say that.”

His voice was a low, but firm murmur, barely audible and muffled by your shirt. You went stiff, toes curling, every muscle taut. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat.

“Don't…” His chest rose and fell against yours as he took a heavy breath, “say you're sorry.”

You could do nothing but lay still, tense and frozen, wide-eyed as you felt his hand move, circling back to your front side.

You could hear his breaths become ragged, heavy. He slowly raised himself up, propped up on one elbow, coming to loom over your wide-eyed, trembling form.

“You have… no right…”

His hand latched onto your jaw, a painful, crushing grip, voice taking a sudden turn to a sharp, fierce hiss.

“…to say that shit to me.”

Your heart pounded. You inhaled a sharp gasp and squirmed, a natural reflex to the spike of panic surging through your veins. You grasped at his hand and pulled, to no avail.

“A-ah, no, I really—”

“Shut up.” The words were spoken through clenched teeth, a quiet, hissing voice. His hand squeezed your jaw tighter, pain rippling up through your face. “You want to placate me. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“No,” you shook your head rapidly, eyes squeezing shut as fearful tears began to accumulate. “I don’t… I don’t know what else I can—”

“I have done,” his words of interruption were interspersed a heavy breath, “everything I could possibly do, to help you adjust to this.”

You could feel his nails dig into your flesh. Every part of you wanted to flail, to kick and struggle out of pure defensive instinct, to ramble on with apologies, but what little rationality and willpower remained kept you still, knowing from past experience that that would only make things worse. Instead, you lay still and tense, trying to control your own rapid breaths.

“I got you things you like to do,” he continued. “I got you things you asked for.”

Your toes curled, your hand gripped at his own locked onto your jaw. Your body felt cold.

“G-Goro—”

“But that's not good enough, is it?”

You managed to swallow, feeling the upper part of your throat shift under the pressure where the heel of his hand made contact.

“No, no, it's—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up. I told you to stop trying to placate me.”

His grip was crushing.

You couldn’t even finish a single sentence.

It was a futile effort. You knew full well that once he was upset, there was nothing you could do about it, no compromising, no appeasing.

Any attempts at such were helpless, pointless. The only way forward was to accept and take whatever would come.

Yet, it was only natural instinct to still try, to rush to attempt to fix what was wrong was only the logical, immediate impulse; you didn’t know what else you could do, and that only made the futility of it that much more crushing.

Thus, all you could do was tremble, whimper, lip quivering as you waited in trepidation.

“Then what… what do you want me to…?”

His eyes were dark, hair casting a shadow over them from the rapidly shifting colors of light that projected from the screen onto the rest of his face. A huff of offense at the question caused a segment of his hair to shift. His grip relented.

He sat upright, one hand up to grip at the side of his face in a gesture of frustration, eye glaring at you from the gap between his fingers.

“What do I want?” His voice was at least lower, a touch calmer from the momentary outburst, even if still frustrated. “I want you to follow the simplest of instructions, and you continuously prove incapable of that.”

“I…” You swallowed, pushing yourself upward with your forearms presses to the mattress. “I really just—”

“All you have to do,” he continued, fingers held to his face rigidly curling, “is stay in here, and do whatever I tell you to do — which is not much, mind you.”

“I, I know, I know!”

He scoffed.

“You certainly aren’t acting like it.”

You kept quiet, wanting to respond, wanting to placate him to any extent you could, but unable to think of anything to say coherently, overwhelmed and panicked. At your silence, he gave a heavy sigh and fixed his gaze to the wall, turned away from you despite his words being directed at you.

“You don't have to worry about anything. You don’t have to do anything.” He huffed again, eyes closing and grasping at the bridge of his nose in a gesture of irritation. “I have done nothing but make life easier for you, and you refuse to even attempt to understand that. Is it truly so hard to simply stay put?”

“N-no, no, I just—”

At your denial, his head snapped back to face you, voice turning to a nasty snarl.

“Then why the—”

And he cut off as he turned his gaze back to you.

Your huddled form was shrunken back away from him, curling in further on yourself, as you always did in reflex to such harshness. Eyes wide in fear and, as you could tell from your blurring vision, tears were visibly welling up in your eyes.

His momentary narrow-eyed, wrinkled-nose expression of disdain fell as quickly as it had appeared. He turned his head back away from you, hanging down to face the floor.

Everything went quiet. For a few moments, only silence hung in the air.

And then, he sank back down onto the side of the bed, slowly, softly, shifting so that he sat with his feet over the side to rest on the floor. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. He tilted his head to rest his forehead on his hands, clasped together.

You sat fully upright as well, weakly reaching up to rub at your jaw, now throbbing in the absence of constriction.

You waited in the quiet, curling up into yourself, knees brought up to your chest, a reflexive defensive position. The uncertainty of the consequences of anything you might do kept you still. The awareness that trying to move away was a bad idea kept you firmly in place.

Likewise, there were no words that came to mind that you were certain would not earn a negative reaction, and thus, you waited in stillness and silence, mind drifting as you glanced over at the screen once again. Taking in the face displayed in the light, mouth moving silently, smiling and gentle and calm, barely recognizable, as if that of a stranger — but it was not.

Nor was it as if the one on screen was entirely a mask or a mere act, but a part of him just as much as the “other” part was. You often imagined such what-ifs in your head — if the adoring public could see this, see you, to know what things were like behind the door.

You wondered if anyone else knew the person beside you now. You now saw that side more often than the other one — a dependency that formed over time, you assumed, like an addiction, you were only viable thing to expel stress and frustration into, and thereby the only source of catharsis available.

And while there were still good days, days that almost felt like nothing had happened at all, like you just so happened to be here and everything was still normal — there were so many bad days. One unpleasant possibility had long since begun to seep into your mind, one that you found yourself mulling over with increasing frequency and dread.

And something about the moment of vulnerability brought that matter out of you, defeat and despair pulling the words out of your mouth.

“Do you still like me?”

The question felt so childish to ask, it made your face feel warm.

Quiet seconds passed.

His face turned to a mild scowl, you could see the corners of his mouth pull taut, though he didn't pull his head out from his hands.

“…Why would you even ask that?” His voice was still defensive, but far quieter than the outburst moments prior. “Why do you think you're here?”

You winced, sheepishly wringing your hands in nervousness, but managed to swallow and continue nonetheless.

“I thought maybe, you'd decided you didn't now, but just… didn't know what to do with me.”

He scoffed.

“Don’t be absurd.”

Despite the words technically being positive, his tone was laced with frustration, irritation, rather than any actual reassurance towards you.

There was a discontentment in his voice and what you could see of his face ��� perhaps to some degree, he wanted to say something else, but for whatever reason remained silent.

You were afraid, so very afraid, and yet the words came out anyway. Your spirit was worn down, your exhaustion even seeping past your fear.

“You don’t… act like it much.”

His hands shifted, clasping tighter, muscles tensing.

His voice was increasingly calmer, but still laden with a blatant tone of pretentious irritation.

“Maybe if you stopped being difficult, things could be different.”

More silence. You fidgeted in place.

“…Is that… what you want?”

“Clearly it isn’t what you want,” he muttered, “even though this was your fault to begin with.”

You closed your eyes at the harsh words, knowing all too well exactly what he meant. Knowing it was inevitable that this would lead down the same trail of dialogue that it always did, a conversation that had been had at every opportunity. That even if you said nothing, it would go that way anyway. Every time the matter came up even tangentially, he had to be sure to remind you. You waited a few seconds in silence, and sure enough—

“Don't forget that, either. You chose this.”

His voice was quiet. Cold and somber, placing so much weight on so few words.

A familiar line. In the beginning, he'd said it constantly. A reminder drilled into your head, over and over, so much that you often found yourself close to believing it.

“You just had to go out of your way and do everything you did,” he continued, in spite of a lack of response from you. Even with his face partially obscured by his hands and hair, you could see his nose wrinkle with an expression of disdain, his voice laden with bitter anger, as if describing some immense transgression.

Had you not been in this position, desperate to calm him and dispel any negative emotion within him, you might have argued against such a notion. But instead, you merely swallowed, before forcing out a reply.

“…I’m sorry… I wanted to help…”

“I was perfectly fine.” His fingers arched as he tightened his grip where they interlaced. “I didn't need help.” He gave a frustrated huff, hair shifting with the exhale. “You deliberately went out of your way to be—”

He cut off, mouth slightly ajar, struggling to verbalize the feeling itself, and thus, after a moment, he finished in a low mutter, perhaps self-aware of what a weak choice of words he had nothing better than to settle on, or even of how ridiculous it sounded that he was framing it as a wrongdoing.

“…to be nice.”

Such a simple, plain word, it sounded nearly unfitting from a individual normally so very articulate. The softer mumble of the words themselves was almost as if spoken in defeat, reluctant.

He leaned his head further down against his hands, spreading the palms apart so that they came to cover his eyes completely as his forehead rested against them.

You couldn’t formulate a response — in part from the intensity of emotion and exhaustion, but in even larger part due to the sheer absurdity of the matter, the way your kindness was framed as a wrongdoing, as something from which the outcome you now found yourself in should have been expected.

You sat still and slack-jawed, eyes scanning the sheets as you tried to process your thoughts, think of anything to say, try to appease him, but he spoke again before you could.

“You talked to me first,” he added, as if that fact proved some sort of important point.

Yes, if only you had known, in that moment, the chain of events you would set off, the consequences of a single act of considerateness.

Being a desk worker at the police station, it was inherently a responsibility to greet and help anyone who came walking by, but you found it particularly endearing when you saw some poor high schooler wandering around, now what felt like ages ago, brows furrowed in confusion and eyes scanning each of the directories and room numbers, blatantly lost.

Are you looking for somewhere in particular? I can help you.

You’d watched him stiffen and fidget, even if he managed to maintain that smooth, confident aura to his voice, smiling sheepishly, but accepting your offer for directions.

You'd thought it was cute.

“And you went out of your way to talk to me every single day,” he muttered. “You chose to do that.”

Yes, you’d begun a regular routine, one you thought little of. You greeted him when he came in, wished him a good day when he left.

Truthfully, that was something you did for every regular face that came through the building each day. In hindsight, you often wondered if he had believed it was uniquely reserved for him.

That had turned into conversations, when he started to linger — though you doubt you could get him to admit he had done so, even if he was self-aware that he had. Conversations that were first brief, but gradually grew longer.

A mature and capable sort of character, almost unbefitting of someone his age, yet there was a distinct sort of neediness that seeped through the cracks, whether or not he was aware that it was increasingly evident. The distinct desperation for positive attention so characteristic of a teen, that no amount of effort could conceal completely.

Only exacerbated by his life situation, you assumed — though, you'd only learned about that as a jarring startle, dumped onto you one afternoon as casually as if talking about the weather, and already having moved on to another matter before you could sputter out some kind of sympathetic response, and you'd never had the gall to mention it thereafter.

Regardless, you were certain that, be it conscious or subconscious, that information had played a role in your efforts to show him kindness.

Now, the same boy sat just an arm’s length away, scowling as he recalled those moments like some transgression against him.

He lowered his head into his hands, palms covering his eyes and most of his face, elbows pressed to his thighs.

“You didn’t just stop at that either,” he continued, a passive-aggressive note to his voice. Not as blatantly vicious as it had been a few minutes ago, but the malevolence was clear nonetheless.

That much struck you with uncertainty, confusion. He’d told you plenty of times how this was your fault, but normally left it at some notion that you’d essentially forced his hand by showing any semblance of kindness, not going into much more detail. You looked up at him, weakly forcing out an inquiry.

“…What… what do you mean?”

He huffed in frustration, as if your ignorance to your own wrongdoing was so glaring it was offensive.

“You just had to keep doing things for me,” he replied. “You bought me lunch when I forgot mine.”

You felt like you were doing something good, at the time. He was ever so grateful, and kept apologizing for the inconvenience.

You blinked, dumbfounded, processing the words, the treatment of the act as a wrongdoing, left in a stupor as he continued even still.

“You let me eat with you. Every day.”

He had asked once. There was no reason for you to say no. He was the one that then began showing up each day.

“You bought things for me, do you not remember that?”

You’d noticed it was well into the winter, and he kept walking in with nothing but a uniform. How you'd fretted and fussed — ah, I don't ever really buy clothes for myself, he'd said — and thus you soon ended up getting him a nice coat and a scarf for the cold. He lacked the figure in his life that would normally do so for a boy his age, after all, so you'd told yourself.

That incident itself was the first time you'd ever felt something strange about him. The way he'd stared with some unreadable, but unpleasant expression as you handed the intended gifts over. Something like confusion and pain. It had only lasted for a split second, before he smiled and thanked you, but you noticed it all the same.

One of his hands reached up to his head, pulling at his hair in frustration.

“You went out of your way to ask me how I was doing. Every day.”

His tone gradually rose in audible bitterness as he continued, fingers curling further into his hair.

“You kept asking me about my life. You kept saying all those things.”

You told him you'd seen him on the talk shows. Tried to complement it, said he was such a good speaker, told him how smart he was.

At the time, your words seemed to make his eyes lighten — just ever so slightly, any hint of reaction carefully restrained by conscious effort to maintain composure, but visible even still. You’d found he would subtly slip small mentions of achievements into conversation, like a quiet plead for praise, one more noticeable than you believed he realized.

Now, his head finally rose and turned towards you, eyes narrowing as he finished, practically in a snarl—

“I never asked for any of that.”

You winced at the harshness, shuffling your legs closer to your chest, leaning away from him.

The words themselves might have hurt in isolation from the context they were inherent to, were it simply a matter of your kindness being met with such negative reaction.

But the anger hurled your way did not erase your memories of how it all went over at the time.

You remembered the way he’d started to look in your direction as soon as he entered the building. You remembered the time you found him standing around your desk at the end of the day, when you’d left to print something off, apparently not wanting to leave without seeing you — though he must not have realized you were able to see him waiting there the whole time, since he passed it off as a coincidence you’d run into each other at the right time when you came back.

You remembered the time you told him—

I saw you on TV last night! You did a really good job out there!

The slight widening of his eyes and soft smile and so very humble reply, visibly happy nonetheless.

When he mentioned exam scores, successful cases, any sort of accomplishment — always in an off-handed, casual way, a clause wrapped within a larger sentence, as if to disguise the words themselves as inconsequential — you were more than happy to play along.

Aw, good for you, I'm proud of you.

You really are so bright.

That’s quite impressive.

One by one, every little word of praise and encouragement, every time you bit the hook of sentences that seemed to be prodding you to inquire further, the ever-so-slight effect it seemed to have — you’d thought it all so endearing.

Once again, you'd told yourself, if he didn't have the usual figure most boys his age had to tell them things like that, there was no harm in you doing what you could to substitute that, however slightly you could.

Thus, even now, whatever mess of emotions made him react so negatively, the words didn’t sting like they might have otherwise.

But the vitriol and harshness still stung. Your head hung downward. You stumbled over your words.

“I… I was just… trying to be nice, because—”

“Because you felt bad for me. Don't think I don't know that.” His gaze jerked back downwards, angled at the floor. “I didn't ask for your pity.”

You shook your head.

“I wanted you to be happy.” Your voice nearly cracked with the desperation that poured out of your chest. “I wanted to make you happy.”

Those themselves were words that would make most people pleased, you imagined — but he bristled, eyes darting downward to the ground, giving a tsk of irritation before he replied, a hissing voice filled with bitterness.

“I never asked you to do that either.”

With another huff of frustration, he propped his elbow onto his thigh again, this time resting his chin on his hand, keeping his gaze to the television. Not really watching or absorbing it, of course, but it was something to look at that wasn’t you, something that kept him from having to meet your eyes. You watched the colors bounce off his skin, illuminating his scowl.

“…But you just had to go and do it anyway, didn't you.”

As if that kindness were a crime, a transgression. Some wrongdoing you'd committed, for which penance was due.

His head tilted forward further, his fingers curled against his face, nails digging into the flesh.

“Then one day you just casually say you’re switching jobs and moving away like you’re talking about the goddamn weather.”

His expression contorted with vitriol. He spoke through clenched teeth, a voice so quiet you could hear the breath within it more than the words themselves.

“What makes you think you can just walk away after all of that?"

And then, his eyes closed. He let out a quiet, heavy sigh — this time not a short one of frustration, but a slow exhale, his body shuddering with the release of whatever tension it relieved.

"...I'm sorry..."

They were the only words you could summon. There were no other words that could properly address the blame being cast upon you, and anything else would be futile anyway.

Thankfully, that time your apology wasn't met with snapping anger, instead a callous sigh.

“...I suppose it was unreasonable to expect you to consider anyone but yourself.” There was an unmistakable passive-aggression to his tone. “Even now, you had every intention to get me locked away for the rest of my life, when I've done everything in my power to improve your quality of life here."

“No, no, I wasn't.” You shook your head, panic resurging at such an accusation, however accurate it may be.

“Obviously you—”

“I wasn’t going to do that.”

You forced the words out, forcing as firm of a tone as you could manage, fighting against your nerves.

It wasn’t often that you interrupted him. Which clearly came as a shock to him as well — you saw him slowly lift his head, eyebrows raised as his gaze turned towards you, so taken off-guard that he didn’t even respond with immediate offense as you might have expected.

Your gaze met his. The still-running glow of the silent television screen cast an overlay of shifting color onto the whites of his eyes.

The foreboding look that formed over his face made you look down, unable to keep eye contact, but you squeezed your eyes shut as you forced the words out regardless. You had already dug whatever grave you were going to lie in, there was no point in backing down.

But it was merely a passing second — by the time the colors reflected on the sides of his eyes had shifted with the change of screen, his eyes darkened, his expression grew solemn.

“I just wanted fresh air,” you continued, “to walk around.”

You hoped it wasn’t as obvious of a lie as it felt.

“I— I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you,” you continued. “I wasn’t going to. It’s, it’s just…”

You shook your head, eyes watering. Your hands curled up into fists against your thighs.

“People weren’t made to live like this.”

A long silence followed. Seconds ticked by. You stared down at the sheets, vision blurred by tears. There was a lump in your throat, you swallowed and fought the urge to break down. That would accomplish nothing.

At least a minute had passed before he finally responded.

“You think I don't know that?”

The words were cold and blunt. As if you’d said the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. There was some degree of sadness within how quietly they were spoken, perhaps even remorse, but it was clear and unyielding.

And within that response was an unspoken statement in and of itself — that no amount of appealing to any inhumanity of your situation was going to change it.

Your jaw clenched. You swallowed before you continued.

“Then… then you have to realize this can’t last forever.”

“…”

The silence made your gut twist on itself, but desperation pushed you further.

“It, it doesn’t have to be by myself, o-or for forever, I mean, you can come with me, we can go walk outside…”

“I thought I told you to stop asking.”

You winced, but the words only made fury race through your heart. Against your better judgement, pure emotion overcame you, and your voice began to raise.

“I-I know! But you just said—”

“It doesn't matter.”

He spoke that time through clenched teeth. A warning tone.

“At some point you have to—”

“Shut up.”

Something in you broke. Your trepidation of your words, the fear of upsetting him — none of it mattered. You had nothing to lose.

“At some point you have to let me GO!”

No sooner had the word left your throat, than his hand slammed down on it.

Your vision blurred with rapid motion as his body lunged for yours, as your back hit the mattress. You instinctively put your forearms to the surface in an attempt to push yourself up, but within a mere moment, he was on top of you, weight slamming you back down.

There was a sharp sting of soreness — his hands fit perfectly against the ring of bruise you perpetually sported around your neck, a testament to the frequency of these very moments, the nature of the way things were within the small space cut off from the outside.

“I said shut up.”

His hand squeezed down hard. Reflexively, your body jerked forward, but he easily shoved you back down again, far superior strength making any struggle futile.

The grip on your throat and the fear pounding in your chest made your eyes blur with tears. Reflexively, perhaps against better judgement, your hands shot up to grab onto his, fingernails digging into his flesh.

His face loomed over you, shadows cast all around. You could still see his narrowed eyes, illuminated by the screen’s light, staring down at you, cold and angered.

His breaths were ragged, labored. He spoke through clenched teeth.

“And you know what?”

His shoulders heaved with the depth of his breaths as he paused.

“I know you knew.”

His nose scrunched with the expression of disdain.

“You’re not stupid. You knew what you were doing to me.”

The words made a knot form in your stomach.

You heard him swallow, felt his hand tremble against you, be it in fury or pain, you weren't certain.

“You made me act like an idiot every time I saw you. You couldn’t have not known.”

That much was true.

It was never as obvious at it would have been with any other boy his age — most were not as guarded as him, would not have put in the effort to always seems so nonchalant as he did, would not have held themselves back from their own enthusiasm and eagerness in the way you sensed he did.

But it was obvious nonetheless, over time. The double-texts, the lingering by your desk, the split-seconds facial expressions of joy and disappointment he’d make before correcting them to the pleasant neutrality of the perpetual mask forced on him by the public eye — but every now and then, it slipped nonetheless.

But that was normal. A common thing in a young man that age.

It was fleeting, you'd thought. It was innocent. It was harmless. It wasn't anything to take seriously. You weren't encouraging it, just being kind. It wasn't as if you didn't appreciate him.

Nothing bad could come of it.

The tightening grip pulled you out of your reflection on your actions. His breaths came out heavy, labored.

“And you didn’t stop me from coming to you. You could have told me not to.”

His eyes bore into yours, a sharp and intense stare, locked together. To look into his eyes and all the fury and contempt they contained made your chest feel tight, made your skin feel cold, sent a chill running through your blood and you wanted so so so badly to look away, yet found your own eyes fixed on his, unable to look away even if you tried, as if his eyes held onto yours in the way his hand held onto your neck.

The corner of his mouth twitched. His grip grew tighter, cutting off your airways entirely. You stiffened, and began to struggle. Your eyes squeezed nearly shut. You squirmed against his hold, but his hands did not relent.

His words were cold, bitter.

“You never said ‘stop.’”

His grip grew tighter.

“You never said ‘no.’”

It felt like it would crush your throat.

“You could have. I would have listened.”

His voice turned low and dark.

“But you didn't.”

Your heart pounded against your chest as your panic turned to desperation, as you realized his grip wouldn’t relent.

“You made it worse. You made me keep coming back.”

His shoulders shifted forward with the force of his grip.

“You chose this—”

His eye twitched.

“—every goddamn step of the way.”

The fear that ran through your blood pushed aside your concern that a reaction would just make it worse, instinct taking over the forefront of your processing.

“Goro—”

Your voice came out as a choked gargle. You clawed at his hand. He huffed in frustration.

“Stop moving, you—”

He cut off as his eyes settled over your form. Your spine turned with your squirming attempts to free yourself. Tears leaked out of your eyes and streamed down your face. Your struggles pulled your thin clothing tight against your form, your body writhing, back arching.

His expression shifted, his mouth pulled taut.

You saw his chest rise and fall with heaving breaths. His head tilted downward towards his body.

“…”

His hand released your throat. You gasped in cold air, body heaving with deep breaths and sputtering coughs, slumping down as relief washed over your body, reaching up to rest your fingers on your throat, wincing at the sting of each breath.

You could hear his heavy, panting breaths.

And then, he leaned forward again, hands grasping at your waist, pulling you closer.

It wasn't difficult to remove what was left between you — only a single layer of clothing each. You didn't have anything beneath the outer layers of clothing — it made things easier, you supposed, that way.

Nonetheless, you felt his fingers hook under the waistband around your hips, jerking downward. In one swift motion, your shirt was pulled upward too, breasts spilling out from underneath.

You laid still, tensing, shifting, but not outright fighting, largely because such resistance would only make things far worse.

And in part because — even now, in spite of everything — the thought of hurting him brought an ache of guilt to your chest.

Still, out of reflex, you found yourself shuffling backwards, elbows pressing to the mattress to pull you back, overwhelmed by the sudden shift of atmosphere and rapid pace of action.

“Ah, wait—”

Without even the slightest semblance of gentleness, his hand shoved you back down, flat onto your back.

“Hold still.” His voice was blunt, but not as strongly laced with emotion as it had been moments prior, too distracted by his current task.

The rumpled mound of blankets and sheets cast more shadow over the lower half of his body, but you could make out his other hand moving, hear the faint sound of fabric shifting against skin. You heard a string of repetitive curses come out of his mouth, faint whispers hissed out in a tone of irritation, as if angered by the urges themselves.

With another harsh jerk to pull you closer, he leaned his body downward, burying his face against the crook of your neck. That, too, was routine, expected, something he always did. He never let you see his face, could never look you in the eye throughout. Maybe it was a craving for physical closeness, maybe it was a loathing of vulnerability that the connection of your gazes would bring, maybe both.

You closed your eyes.

It burned. You were too tense, it was too sudden. The friction on such sensitive skin made you inhale a sharp gasp.

You felt him shudder against you, heard it in the way he exhaled, breath hot on your skin.

His hands grasped at your waist, pulling your body forward and, consequently, further impaling you on himself.

The positioning of his head brought his mouth close to your ear, letting you hear each ragged, labored breath, a brief soft muttering so slurred you couldn’t make it out, despite the proximity.

Your hand reached up, resting on the back of his neck. Even now, in spite of everything, the bruises scattered across your skin and the sore sting on your throat and the greyness of the walls that tormented you day in and day out as you struggled to recall how many days had passed since you’d been anywhere else —

— you couldn’t bring yourself to be anything but gentle.

He, on the other hand, was anything but.

Rather than a rolling motion, his hips merely slammed into your body back and forth, the movement intense, quick and harsh, driven by emotion and frustration.

Still, with each movement, he rubbed against your insides in such a way that made pleasure jolt through your body.

And it grew faster, faster, more forceful. The creaking of the bed grew harsher, an aggressive motion that lurched your body back with each movement, only for his hands to jerk your body back close to his, fingernails digging into your flesh.

You could melt into it — at this point, it was a mastered skill, letting go of any fear or despair and succumbing only to the feeling within you flesh, primal and simple, a sensation that existed outside of circumstance and emotion.

A warm pressure that built and built higher and higher, made you clench down on him, made you arch your back, made noises spill from your mouth that in turn made him move even harsher still.

You found your arms wrapping themselves around his back, clinging to him tightly. The only thing you had left, the only person that existed in a world that was otherwise dull and dark and filled with nothingness.

You supposed that was the point, what he wanted to be. The only thing of substance allowed to exist in your world, everything else pushed back and out behind that door, locked away just beyond your reach.

He brought his head up just enough to speak more directly to your face, but his hair still obscured any sight of his face you might have otherwise had, a harsh whisper through labored breaths.

“You thought you could just get away with it all?”

He jerked his hips forward again, so harshly you gasped, your back arched.

You gasped at the sensation, sputtering out whatever words came to your mind in the haze of sensation and intensity.

“No, I didn't — I, I never meant to— I wasn't trying to—”

“Shut up.” He snapped back at you through clenched teeth. “You knew from the beginning you'd leave eventually. You didn't care how it affected me.”

His fingernails sank into your waist.

“It never meant anything to you.”

Your bottom lip trembled, a sore lump in your throat threatening to break you apart even as fluttering sensation shot through your nerves, the physical sensation and emotion each heightening each other.

“I didn't think— I didn't think you'd—”

You didn’t think it meant that much. You only talked to him for a few minutes every day. To you, he was just one of many people you interacted with, and held a matching degree of significance. Something you had never explicitly told him, but you knew he’d come to understand all the same.

Tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes.

“I… I'm sorry… I never wanted to— ah!”

You gasped, your back arched as your bodies moved in such a perfect way as to make your mind go blank.

His voice became erratic, frantic, spoken between gasping breaths — just as his hips began to move faster, harsher.

“You were going to just disappear and leave.”

In the moment of pause, his ragged breaths were hot against your ear, before he finished in a snarl, snapping his hips forward so brutally the bedframe slammed into the wall—

“You don't get to do that to me.”

You tensed at the intense motion, insides spasming at the sensation, clamping down, and crying out — a filthy, wanton noise that made the heat of shame rush to your face just processing it.

In turn, no sooner had he spoken than you felt him shudder again, muttering out a quiet string of curses before lowering himself down again, body pressed tightly to yours, abandoning any efforts he might have intended to put into further words or maintaining some semblance of composure, instead giving in to the sensation and urges in full.

His hips moved against you in erratic frenzy, mercilessly harsh. His fingernails stabbed into the flesh around your hips, holding you firmly in place so that the sheer force of the movements didn't push your body off of his.

You, too, let go of any restraint — what was even the point of holding onto some semblance of dignity? — and let your mind lose itself in the sensation. Letting your mind run blank was far preferable to letting yourself be tormented by emotion any further. A freeing feeling from the cage of worry — always aware of how many days it had been, the burden of keeping track, the weight of endless wrestling with what-ifs and fantasies of possibility in both retroactive and prospective senses alike.

You let the noises pour out of your mouth, let yourself tense and spasm and wrap your legs around his waist, let yourself claw at his back. It felt as if your mind was melting.

Yes, giving in was easier. Separating yourself from the context of where you were and why and for how so very long, indulging in the relief cast by the shadow of defeat and acceptance. Regardless of the circumstances that led you here, and throwing aside the soul-crushing question of your hopes of a future that haunted your every waking moment, this moment was here and now and real, something you could feel and savor.

You let the sensation turn to pleasure and pain that blurred together, eyes closed, listening to the sync of the sound of the mattress shifting with the sparks of sensation running up your spine. You let that feeling bring you up, up, higher and higher, peaking as you pulled him as close to you as you could manage, sounds from your throat coming out high-pitched and needy.

Only mere moments later, before you could even come down from the dissociative feeling of fog over your mind, you vaguely felt him come to a halt, heard him suck in a sharp breath between clenched teeth.

There was a heavy silence that hung over the air, broken only by each other’s heavy, panting breaths.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he lowered himself down, moving to your side, hair still veiling his face from your view, before eventually letting his weight fall the rest of the way in a sudden collapse, causing the mattress to shift. Without any conscious thought to do so, you found yourself turning onto your side to accommodate it, so that you faced each other.

And once again, you lay in quiet, broken by your labored breaths, each exhale tangible on the other’s skin.

Your sweat made the sheets cling to your body.

He was so close, but even still, waited, hesitant, depending on your initiation.

Thus, instinctively, you wrapped your arm around him, slowly, cautiously. Your arm wrapped around his back, pulling his body forward into place against yours.

Slowly, you felt his hand reach up to your arm, just below your shoulder, fingers wrapping around it with only the faintest of touches.

His head came to rest at your chest once again, forehead settling on the spot between your breasts. His hand’s grip on your arm grew tight.

And you felt him shiver against you. A continuous, soft shaking, like someone freezing in the cold. There was something about the feeling that spread into you, something that poured from his body into yours.

He felt so much bigger and stronger when he was on top of you, those times where he held your wrists above your head, the times he’d grabbed you and drug you around like a ragdoll across the little apartment — and now, he felt almost small, in your arms. Fragile, as if he would shatter apart like glass, should you hold him too tightly.

Some time passed. Your eyes closed at some point, but you could still see the shifting colors behind your eyelids, light shining through. Your body slowly relaxed from all the tension.

You could feel his heart beating against your hand resting on his back, perfectly in sync with your own, which you felt in the form of the throbbing around your neck.

And in that stillness, you felt some sense of peace. As if everything were inconsequential, all your anguish melting. As if you were merely normal lovers in a state of post-coital exhaustion after a long day.

Part of you wanted to lean into it, to let yourself slip into that illusion. It was comforting and warm, and the burden of awareness of the reality of your situation was so, so heavy. You were tired of its weight.

But something else weighed on your mind, holding you back from the brink of exhaustion. And without conscious intent, that something slipped out from your lips.

“Do you wish I hadn't?”

Your throat stung to speak, the words came out in a scratchy voice, but nonetheless so quiet that he would not have even heard you had he not been pressed against you.

There was a long pause. He turned his head upward, slowly, exhaustion visible in such a small movement. Not even enough to look you in the eye, just enough to acknowledge your words.

“…What?”

You swallowed.

“Do you wish… I had never talked to you? That I hadn’t… done all of those things?”

The quiet that followed felt like a weight pressed to your chest. You felt the vulnerable softness of comfort leave his body, replaced by a tenseness that wasn’t there moments prior.

His head lowered back to its former position, and the room fell to silence again, seconds ticking by. When he finally replied, it was a cold, blunt tone, as if you’d asked a simple, obvious question.

“I never said that.”

You didn't have the energy to feel frustrated. You had long since accepted that there was no way to win. The absurdity of his response in light of it all barely fazed you. If anything, it felt like the response you'd anticipate, perfectly in line with how you knew him to be.

You wrapped your arms around him tighter.

Your bodies pressed together, tender and intimate and comforting, and in spite of everything, you let yourself savor the goodness of the feeling of it. You felt the tension slowly leave his body as well, it felt as if he melted against your touch.

You began to drift off, mind lulled by the colors behind your eyelids. Some time passed.

And then he moved.

Your eyes opened, groggily returning to awareness and clarity — and some degree of concern, never certain what he would do at any given moment — and you watched as he pulled himself out of your grasp, quickly pivoting to the side of the bed to stand.

You slowly sat upright, shirt falling back down to at least cover your upper half, tilting your head in curiosity as you waited to see what he'd gotten up for.

Without a word, he moved back towards the counter at the front of the small apartment, reaching out for the plastic bag he'd set down when he came in. His footsteps were heavy, lazily dragging against the floor as he brought it back, one plastic container in each hand. He extended one out to you.

“It’s past our normal eating time.”

His voice had returned to a perfectly normal tone, not tired nor bitter nor angry, the tone he used when everything was fine, a tone that set you at ease. As off-putting and surprising as it was, you didn't question the pleasant change, merely taking it from his hands, opening the box and little paper-wrapped utensils, only pausing to sheepishly, hurriedly put your clothes back on.

Your hand still shivered as you forced food into your mouth.

You'd had this before plenty of times. You assumed it was conveniently on his route home. He always got one particular order for you. You didn't hate it, but it wasn't your preference, not that you ever stated so, wanting to avoid any risk of negativity.

It wasn't the same thing he got for himself, either. That, too, had become part of your routine. He made very specific assumptions of what you wanted when it came to flavors, colors, and so on.

You became acutely aware of the sensation of the shirt that still clung to your body, how your hair brushed against your skin where it fell at the exact length he’d insisted on keeping it.

Much like those things, you preferred not thinking about where the assumptions came from.

You brought a few bites to your mouth, each of you eating in silence. In the absence of other stimulus, your eyes trailed back over to the screen.

Enough time had passed that he was no longer one of the figures on the television screen — but the subject matter appeared to still be the same as it always was, for the past few months. Yet another accident, the same circumstances as usual.

You saw him lift his head up, following your line of vision, then scowling at the screen — but as the only source of light, he didn't turn it off.

“You should be careful.”

Your words turned his head back towards you, eyebrows raising in an expression prompting you to continue. You looked down.

“All those people they show lately... going crazy and getting tons of people hurt. You're known to the public, so… just be sure to be cautious, you know.”

You couldn't articulate the look on his features. He paused, blinking a few times at you, eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed, before turning his gaze back down.

“I'll be fine.”

You turned your gaze back to your food as well — but not before your eyes briefly drifted over to the door once more. You felt a chill run down your spine as the far-too-recent memory of electrocution flashed through your mind, and with it, the humiliation of it all settled heavy on your chest.

You closed your eyes and swallowed, trying to rid yourself of the lump in your throat as the urge to break down threatened to take over you again, and dulled your mind, letting it fall to blank nothingness but the task of finishing your food.

You turned your head and looked at the soft-featured young man. His face — the mask of the public persona still off, now in a different way than mere anger, but a sort of quiet, barely-noticeable sheepishness that followed such outbursts, distinguishable by a faint frown, ever-so-slightly furrowed brows, an avoidance of looking upward — felt so innocent, almost endearing.

You didn't realize you were staring until he finally looked up, having sensed the feeling of your gaze. He blinked.

“Is something wrong?”

Asked in such a gentle, pleasant tone. Nonchalant, ignoring the bruises on your body, ignoring the band still latched around your neck. It was so easy to believe nothing had happened.

Your eyes shifted away from him, briefly trailing around the room — to the cordless lamps and flat door handles and locks on all the drawers and the spot on the ceiling where the fan had been gouged out and caulked over.

And likewise, you shook your head and resumed picking at your food, deciding for your own sake that that none of it was of any consequence. That was a far less painful way to think about it all anyway.

“No, nothing.”

[monsterfuckingthoughts]

Orc Husband x Human Reader

Synopsis: You and your husband relish in the company of one another as old memories wander back to you.

You clawed at the furs on Kilian’s bed in an attempt to stay balanced. You stayed on your hands and knees as he fucked you from behind, with so much urgency you would have thought you were on the brink of death. 

“God,” you moaned. 

Your husband had been away for two weeks, traveling with his war council to facilitate peace talks with neighboring kingdoms in the region. Two weeks without your touch had driven him mad. His dreams were filled with you straddling him, bouncing up and down on his cock, breasts unrestrained, mouth screaming for a release. When he awoke he’d be forced to alleviate himself with the aid of his hand, not nearly as satisfying as sinking into you. 

So when he arrived back to the stronghold he needed you. And you needed him. The two of you hardly waisted a second. Not even fully removing your clothes before fucking. 

“Kilian. I’m coming! I’m coming!” you shrieked.

His grip tighten on your ass. 

“So am I,” he managed to get out. 

He hastily pulled you up and pressed the back of your body to his, taking the opportunity to cup your bare breast with his calloused hand. 

You let out a painfully delightful whimper as you orgasm spread through you. Closing your eyes you allowed yourself to relax as Kilian’s warm seed released inside you. 

~

The two of you completely undressed and laid beneath the furs in one anothers arms. 

“You were amazing,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

“Let me accompany you next time my love. I don’t want to be separated from you like that again,” you begged.

“I know my darling. It was hard for me as well. But these missions can be dangerous. I’d never forgive myself if something were to happen to you.”

You kissed his pectoral and nuzzled closer. “I know. But the nights were so lonely without you in our bed.”

You kissed his nipple, taking his piercing between your teeth and giving it the smallest tug. 

“(Name),” he growled. 

You smirked pulling yourself up and settling on top of him. “I remember when you first came into my town. How handsome you were. How kind you were.”

He cupped your faced in his hand. “You were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

“We became friends, but then we became more.”

“I still remember the first time.”

“Under the stars,” you mused. “In the poppy field.”

He smiled, remebering every detail. 

The love in your eyes. The trembling of your legs as you wrapped them against his waist. How you cried out to the heavens, giving thanks for meeting him. 

“You had to marry me,” you teased. “To make an honest woman of me.”

“An honor I happily took.”

“I love you Kilian.”

“I love you too (Name).”

The two of you spent the remainder of the night reminiscing about your lives together. The blessing it was. 

[cutieeva]

Worth of a terror

Female reader

Warnings : Murder. Deaths. Attempt of sexual assaults.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

Married to the man one loves is magical even fairytale however if the man turns out to be a obsessed King is it really alright ? Or it is because there's much more truth in it.

Words spread ear to ear to nation to another nations of how in the country of Imperia the ruler is obsessed with his wife, the most wisest woman to be known (Y/N).

It is said that at the first sight princess (Y/N) of neighboring kingdom of Tharagon saw the soon to be King one day and fell fast and hard. Deciding he will be the one to hold her hand and lift her white veil of marriage so she begged her father who succumbed to his daughter's wishes arranged an meeting between the pair, a pair brought by the deities themselves because the moment the prince saw once glimpse of her visages cerulean pupils transform into heart and boldly bowed his knee to have her hand for eternal, soon the vows of love were exchange as well as the bloodshed didn't remain in the battlefield rather inside the walls of royalty too after the love climb into of akin madness, obsession and desire because the prince wore the crown and sat at the throne of his country ruled with benevolent smile yet iron fist for those who glance little to his wife. The fairytale love story commoners love begin to sour a lesson of the reasons why not to marry elites.

The new maid of the castle heard the passing whispers, tales and rumors time to time, none escaped her even when in front it's spoken loudly at all times the moment the royals are out sight by blue ribbon maids yet she notice one bit of how no golden ribbon maids gossip at all rather their lips are seal with sectary oh— golden maid are known for the private maids who serve the royals directly and handle their schedule and the reason of their name is for the noticeable difference between the hair bow color, the colors are important in the castle to identify one's position and the golden are the supreme and the new maids are the whites— oddly to define their purity and naïvity too, one older female maid with blue ribbon commented. Blue applys for the upper level after blooming their training.

In passing few times of sewing clothes and watering gardens did she caught glances of the wise queen she come to admire even respect deeply after an occurrence she would to this day have shivers in her spine. At dinner she was hosted to be one of the many maids to serve the royalty and when she went to gracefully fill the red wine like blood to the queen's glass god forbid again her weight on her hand slipped pouring few drops on the luxurious white dress. Paled her face was and fast her heart with darting eyes to the furious king who stood from his seat, marching to his wife with burning her though his glare to (Y/N) who rather of getting mad, yelling harshly and posing punishment worse, a laugh fell out of her rudy hue lips.

"Fear not. We are all prone to error, and from those mistakes, we shall glean valuable wisdom. Be at peace". Smiling ear to ear, her fingers touch the maid's white ribbon and gifted another comforting pat before wrapping a hand around her dear husband. Calming the beast that threat to spill out the maid could see and tremble her heart out.

"Compose yourself, my dear husband. Do not let your passions get the better of you, lest you succumb to apoplexy. She is but a mere child, prone to errors and innocent of malice." Wittly (Y/N) spin her wrist around for the servant to whisk away and she did excusing the pair where from the closed doors she could hear the muffled passionate kisses. Tips of ear burned when body flinched meeting the royal knight's gaze who stood blending in the shadows, he is known to be the queen's shining armor and the man the King failed to assassinate multiple times due to his skill experience and queen's help. The reason behind murdering the man is of jealous of course, no man alive should be closer to her heart then the king himself. What a hassel the maid believes running out ever grateful for the madam's kindness.

That at any command or meeting upon sights of queen never does she forget to get on both knees for the kind woman deserve all respect and it only increase when she was appointed from white ribbon to blue— one step closer to see more of her elder sister figure, every dress the queen wore becomes the maid's favorite too, never forgets to sing songs of praises with other blue ribbon maids who too tune to her child like nature unlike the golden ones whom seems to be as tight lips she recalls. Never forgets to mask a smell of expression nor word like perfect dolls they work with sealed lips.

Also there is another person who comes to see the queen more is the ruler and as the rumors believes he is a very much touchful person, never his hands left her body whether in public or behind closed doors as he boldly even kisses her startling the poor maid's heart yet a beyond level of understanding is come from her when each time the queen smile into the kiss and any touch and attention, never shy away however also not returning the same enthusiasm making pity stem in the maid's heart seeing the queen being a beauty to the beast for him to be a proper prince in this case the king.

"The royal family of neighboring kingdom is coming to Imperia nation". Is a pure chaos, the notice was late and the servants were barely able to match the rhythm of orders properly unlike each time. The dinner, the decoration everything expected to be perfect. Not a single mishap panicking the attendants even more.

Thankfully it was arrange hasty and beautifully. "Perfect". The queen utter, her chest swell in pride when her husband entered with all the servants bowing with their eyes on the floor. His arms find on her body along lips on her bare skin of side nape.

"Perfect indeed". His eyes half lidded, only for his utter heavenly wife.

"Not me, my dearest. The castle". Mellow chuckle escape her lips. Meeting his eyes.

"Still the most beautiful I can see is you". Truly (Y/N) sometimes believes her love of life could had been better off as an poet than an king. As a hopeless romantic is sweet it's quite endangering she is afraid.

"Thank you, love". Gratitude fill her heart with butterflies in her stomach. Staring right at the infuriating reflection of herself in his eyes just like the first time is nostalgic.

"Your Majesties, the carriages are few feets away". The royal adviser reminded the pair and intruded their session.

"Indeed I know". Frown brows cast his face, marred with annoyance the queen finds endearing. Her finger pads gently ease the wrinkled skin and brows even pressing as gentle as feather a kiss. Stealing his breath and heart altogether.

"It's alright, love. Better for the kingdom". Smile wide so much it crinkles her corners of eyes. "The more the merrier isn't it ?" She jested pulling a smile out of the stoic man, feared even.

"However, my queen, you are well aware that the neighboring kingdom is not particularly indispensable to our affairs?" King Vincent uttered, caressing strands of her hair.

"I do". Press a hand on his shoulder she left to prepare for their welcoming and it was easy would be a blunt lie by the palpable tension is visible to any naked eye.

The neighboring king is not what a proper nobleman should be behaving more like a scoundrel with Queen (Y/N), kissing her hand more than needed, staring more than appropriate and not shy away to brush touches and the servants quiver from the dreadful consequences of such actions because each could see the twitch in the king's eyes and the beast hidden too well inside those smile.

And the tension only stretched more at the supper when the daughter of the neighboring king urged to be sit next to King Vincent wantonly seduce the married man by brushing skins and serving dishes. Such a wretched and filthy woman the maid curse freely in her mind. How dare his daughter without blinking an eye snatch the husband of the woman her father is so desperately steal virtue of ? Such women are shame to be grown out from mother's womb the maid thought, glancing in awe how no hint of outbust is seen from (Y/N), she even tender with the maiden she doesn't deserve to get all while handling the aged man's greedy hands.

Truly a woman worth to love and respect and the maid is out of words to describe. Gratefully the supper came to an end and the pair of King and his daughter went to spend their night in their castle for tomorrow's farewell.

The moon hanged exquisitely among the stars covet by the darkness the maid stare from her window when a sudden thirst come to her. Sitting up in her bed her fingers went to the jar only to feel lighter—empty she realize. Groaning she held a lamplight in one hand and went to wonder for the kitchen, her steps precise and careful to reach the lengthy walls to the kitchen and at last drench the thrist she wake from her slumber.

Chop ! Her nerves freeze. Chop ! Blood drain from her veins. CHOP ! Shudder her body to the core. The sounds are clearly of slicing something— or someone. Despite the warnings in her brain advising to ran away her feet drag her to the creator of the noises, solely relying on the noises her eyes blind in darkness went near the open door with golden light peeking though. Prying eyes meet sorrow's sight. A saying she knows yet not heed.

Chop ! Her eyes flinch close before opening to peek and met a sight that shatter her entire faith, beliefs and trust.

Chop ! Because in front is the body of neighboring princess laying on the ground, her widen eyes stare directly to the maid's that lost the life in it, blood bled endlessly like spilled juices out from her cut— chopped parts. The sliver sword soaked in crimson color and smell drip little by little held by the culprit of her murder. Queen (Y/N) herself, the same woman who utters gentle words, sweet voice, pretty smiles. A beauty to her husband chop and dice and slice the parts of the woman like an carcass of pig. Droplets of blood scattered across her face, dress and hand.

Near is the neighboring king's body only sliced throat once. (Y/N) bore special hatred for the daughter to still torture her.

Footsteps towards the otherside sucked the maid's pulse, still her eyes watched as the owner revealed to be none other than King Vincent. A helpless sigh and defeated look carved out of him. "(Y/N), my losana what have you done this time ?"

"Oh, my love, I fear you are correct regarding their unnecessary pursuit of power to foster our nation's growth. Alas, I have taken drastic measures and eradicated the impurities." A feverish blush paint her majesty's face as she gaze at her husband. Grinning like a mischief goddess.

And without sparing glance her sword stab the daughter's detached head to stick before walking to Vincent. "You know I love you ? Hence I had to do this. She was a whore who should not live". Slight shiver hands cup his chin, connecting their foreheads. "You know you are mine and mine only ?"

"Indeed I do". Feebly lift his lips to smile and lean more. What could he do, she is a woman who loves fast and hard.

Suddenly her (E/C) eyes slide to the maid's direction who buried her head behind the wall with palm tight clasped on her lips even forbid breathing in fear of getting caught. Her chest up and fell and pupils changing. Because missed dots came connecting all round.

The real obsessed one was nd is not the king. It was the queen (Y/N) all along.

The missing and murders people were her fault, the queen kill them in rush of envy and jealous of rivalry. The rumors were reversed and the reason the golden ribbon servants seal their lips because they had been the ones cleaning the mess of her majesty, they were unspoken witness to the madness of her obsession not his.

She was always jealous thus the murder was commented. She was simply good at hiding, behind that naïve smile. Same one the maid was bestowed. No wonder the king is tamed.

Quickly hers feets disspeared to the darkness to her quarter to not be discovered and be beheaded or worse fate.

The next rise of sun came faster than she wanted and she had to do her duty with empty mind is difficult with too many mistakes. When she notice the lines of servants behind the queen is appearing. The images invaded her thoughts again, gripping her in fear. Her knees bowed on her own.

The smell of lavender suffocated her and the sight of the queen's grown came to view. She could feel her leaning closer, closer and closer until her lips were near her ear. "Remember to have water on your jar before the bed". She knows. She knows. She knows.

With that her heels turn to see her husband. A husband who should have been a poet not a leader as he was not a man of bloodshed. How twist of fate.

A strangled grasp left the maid's lips meeting the back of the queen and her close knight. She is truly a worth of a terror.

FIN

Notice : ⌜ I will soon focus and complete the lost series ⌟

[c0eu4]

LN4 | Welcome home ♡

Summary: He found y/n in his hoodies, her favorite toy in her.

Warning: smut, no protection sex, swearing

A/N: enjoy <3

MASTERLIST requests are open

He parks the car in the underground parking lot and gets out of it. He picked up his luggage and walked towards the elevator. He called it, entered it and waited for it to be at the floor of his flat. When he opens the door with his keys and calls for his girlfriend, he has no answer. He put his luggage in the hallway and looked for his girlfriend. The flat was all dark, the water of the rain was the only thing he could hear.

Well.. not really to be honest. He was also hearing some little moans. First, he thinks that it was his neighbor enjoying themselves. But he quickly found that it was coming from his bedroom. The first thing he thinks of is ''she's cheated on me!'' but he found that it wasn't this when he entered the bedroom.

She was laying in the middle of the bed, his white hoodie was the only thing she was wearing. Her headphones on her ears, she can't hear him. One of her hands is under the hoodie, probably touching her breasts and nipples. Her other hand sliding her toy inside her, back and forth. Her eyes were totally close, her back arched and her moans filling the room. She was about to cum.

Lando immediately feels tight in his pants, a bulge already forming his trousers. He can't help but slip a hand under his boxer, touching himself.

She was so gorgeous, his hoodies on her, her toy in her, her moans... He undoes his belt and pulls down his pants and boxers at the same time, to his knees. He takes his already hard cock in his hand and jerks himself off, watching her as she was about to cum.

Just seeing her like this, so vulnerable and enjoying herself, he could cum right now. But he contained himself, not wanting to lose his plaisur.

''Lando !!'' She moaned loudly as her thighs were used and her whole body trembled with pleasure.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Did she moaned his name ? He barely managed to hold back from cumming, pre-cum running down his cock and hand. He can't wait anymore and needs to take her right now. He completely takes off his trousers, walking towards her while taking off his t-shirts.

As she opens her eyes, she sees Lando's face in front of her. Her eyes widen and he takes off the toy inside her and her headphones.

''Please tell me it's a green flag baby.'' He asked her, almost begging her. She nodded slowly as he rubbed his tip against her already wet entrance.

''Word.'' His voice was firm yet sweet.

''Y-yes it-'' He doesn't let her finish as he pushes his dick deeply in her wet and tight cunt.

''Ahh.. fuck.. you're so tight..'' He moaned against her ear, sucking red marks under it.

He doesn't started with a slow pace as he usually does, he was quick and firm in each trust of his pelvis. Her head fell against the pillow, moving her hips at the same time as him. Her arms were around him, keeping him close to her.

''You.. take me so... so well.. my little slut..'' He speaks to you between moans. Her eyes were filled with tears as he began to thrust into her slowly but roughly, deeply and hardly.

''Fuck! Landooo !!'' She moaned, her fingers digging into his back.

''Oh yeah... like that baby..'' He gets quicker, feeling himself about to cum. But he brutally stopped, leaving you not fully satisfied.

''Can you ride me ?'' He asked her, his eyes full of lust. She pushed him to his back, riding him and moving up and down like a rollercoaster. His hands were on her hips, moving his own hips up and down. Her hands were on his shoulder, digging her nails into his skin again.

The room were filled with 'uh uh' from both of their mouths, sometimes covered with kisses.

She started to be exhausted and needy to cum. Her hips were moving more slowly, her thighs hurting a bit.

Hopefully for her, Lando saw it and took control. She totally stopped moving and Lando trusted in her, quickly and deeply. Her whole body was shaking again, her head was dizzy. She let her eyes roll back as she moaned loudly his name.

''Landooo!!'' Her orgasm hits her like a ton of bricks coming down on her. She unconsciously tightens her pussy around Lando's cock.

Lando keeps thrusting in her, more quickly than before. But he can't keep it back and filled her with seed in a long and deep moan of her name.

She collapsed on him, exhausted. After a few seconds of silence, she finally spoke.

''Welcome home honey..''

[redlikemercury]

𝕊𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝔸𝕚𝕕

𝕊𝕙ō𝕥𝕒 𝔸𝕚𝕫𝕒𝕨𝕒

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩

Summary: Aizawa is a single father with needs, and being his new neighbor makes him think all his prayers have been answered.

a/n: First ever post, if you have any suggestions or any advice feel free to tell me :)

cw: black!fem, fingering, oral receiving (f), dirty talk, unprotected, pet name (princess, baby), size kink, edging, dilf. creampie? 18+

word count: 5.5k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩

"Ungh! Come on dammit." Aizawa’s legs were nearing their end as he stood there on his last set of back squats. His breathing was shaky and he clenched his jaw, grunting to stand back up again. Bending the knees and hips simultaneously, Aizawa lowered his body down, making sure his knees were tracked over his toes and his heels firmly placed. The veins in his thighs were bulging out as they were parallel with the ground as he maintained stability. He squatted deeper before activating his leg muscles to stand back up again, trembling on his fifth set.

Exhaling deeply, he manages to stand back up again. He was pushing his luck doing two hundred and ten pounds today. Small strands of black hair stuck to his forehead like glue due to the huge amble of sweat that trickled down his phone which was placed on the ground. His phone had dinged, when he looked down and saw a notification, Eri had just made a purchase off her iPad on Roblox. He sighed, obviously annoyed with the matter. Eri tended to pay for things without his permission, formed from the amount of spoiling she gets from him. Aizawa finished up his last set, before heading over to the children’s play area to confront her about it. “This child is a handful sometimes.” He mumbled to himself, using a towel to dry off his drenched face.

While coming out of the gym down the hall, you’ve bumped into his sweaty chest by accident. You backed up and cleared your throat getting ready to apologize, until you saw him. Aizawa’s body glistened with perspiration, every inch of his physique was defined by his bulging muscles, a full display of his fierce training regimen. His broad shoulders and chiseled chest created an imposing presence as an overcasting shoulder was cast upon you. The veins in his biceps seeped through. Nothing compared to his abdomen it was a washboard of muscles. His abs were flexing slightly as they sparkled with sweat, you wanted to lick it off so badly. His bedraggled black hair was pulled back into a bun. His almond eyes had heavy bags underneath along with a small scar underneath his eye. The light stubble on his chin completed his face. You were enthralled by the sight of seeing him so worn out. Your heart was racing as you were severely in need of this man on top of you, fucking you like nobody's business. You soon shook your head and snapped back into reality glancing up towards Aizawa. Your full brown lips parted as you spoke to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you.” You said quite hastily, hoping he didn’t think you were some creep checking out his body. Aizawa's eyes carried that same deadpan expression, letting out a momentary sigh and shaking his head. “There’s no need to apologize. I was the one who was in a rush.” His voice didn’t hold any malice towards you as he met your gaze. He stared you down into your beautiful dark brown eyes, that made you more flustered by the sight of him. This intense stare-down did more than just make you uncomfortable, it turned you on even more.

For a second, it appeared like a small playful smirk on his lips before he carried the same exhausted expression. “You’re my new neighbor, correct? Let me make it up to you, me and my daughter were getting ready to head home. If you don’t mind, could I treat you to dinner at my place?” He politely said to you. You were shocked to hear Aizawa make such a suggestion. You’ve moved in beside the man about a month ago. There were occasional ‘hellos’ and ‘how are yous’ in the early morning, as you guys would start the day early in the morning. Aizawa would always be carrying a sleepy Eri to the car as the two of you shared light small talk, nothing more. It didn’t stop your everlasting fantasies of being bent over by this man, til you couldn’t walk. You looked down at your appearance for a second. You were just as sweaty as him from just finishing an intense leg day. The athletic shorts were tight on your body hugging every curve, stretching and flexing around your thighs, displaying that ass you’ve been working on. The print in between your legs caught Aizawa’s attention, but he quickly looked away before you could notice. His mind had racey thoughts as well, ones he was too ashamed to say out loud or ever. You were proud of the progress you were making in the gym on getting your summer body ready. Your tight coils were pulled into an afro puff, as the shrinkage had gotten to it. You weren't worried about how you looked, but more as you would stink from such an intense workout, especially in front of your sexy neighbor. You let out a momentary sigh. “I’m sorry, but I need to shower. It would be wrong of me for you to treat me and I smelled like ten cans of bounce that ass.” You expressed, that Aizawa was amused by your response, chuckling a bit. The drained man reached into his pocket for his phone. He opened up his contracts to create a new one before passing it off to you. “In that case, let me have your number. You can just text or call me, whenever you're done showering. Dinner should be done around eight tonight, so you’ll have plenty of time to come over.” He said rather smoothly. You couldn’t help, but smirk a little. ‘My man, my man, my man.’ You thought to yourself, becoming overwhelmingly giddy. You entered your number into his phone and headed it back to him. “Fine, I’ll come over.” You said teasingly before seeing a notification come through on your phone. It was Aizawa. The man smirked at you briefly, sizing your body up and down. Before he could say anything else, Eri had made another purchase of her iPad. A wave of aggravation appeared on his face, as he soughed. “If you can excuse me, I have to speak with my daughter for a second. I’ll see you tonight.” He voiced before steering down the hall.

You didn’t oppose him leaving, in fact, it only motivated you to see more of your ‘man’ tonight. You hightailed your ass to the car and drove back home. You navigated your vehicle into the driveway of the smooth paved material and pulled into the garage. One side of your driveway features a contemporary design that seamlessly corresponds with the architectural tone of your home. You closed the garage door and entered through the door leading inside your home. The time was six o'clock by the moment you arrived home. The home’s exterior exudes a modern charm with sleek lines and neutral colors and is decorated with many personal items. The windows illuminated a warm glow from outside highlighting the coziness of your home. The smell of vanilla was always a comforting scent to come home to, as you headed upstairs to your bedroom. You set your keys onto your bed and rummaged around through your closet. You didn’t know what to wear and your sore legs were killing you already. “Ugh, what the fuck.” You murmured to yourself, searching for clothes. You finally settled on a nice outfit to wear and took a shower. Once you got out, you pulled out all the natural hair products you could find. You scrolled on Pinterest for inspiration, before settling on a style. You were going to attempt a claw clip hairstyle and began to part your hair into sections. You were taking your time, but part of you was worried you would run late. There were times you thought about slapping on one of your wigs and calling it a day, but you were also determined to trust the process. By the end of it all, it came out cute, as you stuck the claw clip on the back of your head. “Well, I’ll be damned. This came out good.” You said as you admired yourself in the mirror.

As you were admiring yourself, Aizawa was home preparing a nice home-cooked meal. The fatigued man stood in the kitchen wearing a pink apron that was originally white. Eri had ‘accidentally’ tossed her pink shirt in the washer with all his white clothes. He couldn’t be mad at her though, in fact, he found it kind of humorous in his way. The day had been long and very commanding of Aizawa, but he found solace in being able to cook a great meal for the two of you guys tonight. His anticipation was growing rapidly and his heart was pounding, as he was chopping some vegetables on a cutting board. It had been a long time coming since he’d been with another woman, especially sexually. He loved being a father, but it was stressful not having any relief in his life. He’s tried getting off on porn sites late at night, but Eri had been having a series of nightmares recently making his sexual frustrations pent up even more. He had become more irritable, especially at work. Aizawa would often snap at his students and coworkers over simple things, he became so desperate one day he tried relieving himself in the car, but it was vastly interrupted by a fight between two students that occurred nearby. So when you moved next door, it was like the perfect opportunity for him. Aizawa had been pining to stretch you out since day one, he wanted more than to fuck you silly off his dick. The thought alone made it harder for him to sleep at night. He was already basically a walking zombie, as his daughter would call him. He could tell the same desire was in your eyes when he saw you at the gym. Seeing your figure in tight athletic wear earlier made it difficult to contain himself. He was a father after all. You were like a miracle was blessed upon him, as he had the perfect plan for tonight.

Eri was engrossed on her iPad on the sofa in the living room, her packs were packed for a sleepover tonight. She giggled overjoyed as she was playing Fruit Ninja, she was banned from playing Roblux for a while. The sound of his daughter giggle, washed away most of Aizawa’s naughty fruitions as he was in contempt with how things were in the presence. “Eri, would you like to eat dinner before you leave?” He asks from the kitchen. Eri placed her iPad down and wandered into the kitchen. The delicious aroma filled her nostrils as he was cooking his signature pot roast. “Yeah, but what’s the occasion?” She questioned, her big adorable eyes staring up at Aizawa. He cleared his throat, Eri was quite an inquisitive young girl. “Oh, nothing. I’m just inviting the neighbor over for dinner.” He muttered nonchalantly. A grin came across Eri’s face. “Okay.” She replied and ran off giggling. Aizawa sighed and pulled out his phone from his gray sweats, seeing the meal he had prepared was just about done. He sees it’s close to eight and decides to shoot you a text.

You're phone lit up with a notification, it was Aizawa.

>Are we still on for tonight?

The text read as it was fifteen minutes from eight. “Oh shit.” You whispered as you picked your phone back up.

>Yeah, I’ll be right over.

You texted it back and looked for some shoes to slide on. You sprayed your favorite perfume a couple of times around your body and grabbed your keys. You walked out the front door, locking it behind you before venturing off to your neighbor's house. As you walked down the sidewalk, inches away from knocking at the front door, you had butterflies in your stomach. Your nerves were getting the best of you as you walked up the driveway of Aizawa’s home. Your hands became shaky as you were approaching the front door. “Oh shit.” You murmured to yourself. Before you could knock on the door, Eri had opened it. She looked at you with a bright bubbly smile. “My daddy likes you.” She said before running off giggling, hearing Aizawa’s footsteps. He was visibly a bit irked by Eri opening the door so carefreely. “Eri, darling, please don’t open the door for people. It can be dangerous.” He reprimanded her, as she was running around the house. The high-spirited child was too busy packing up the rest of her things to care about Aizawa’s nagging. You couldn’t help, but giggle. You didn’t find kids annoying, but they could be just as overwhelming for you. Eri’s words were a bit more of a confidence booster, as kids tend to tell things they weren’t supposed to.

Aizawa smiled at you in a friendly manner. His hair was still pulled back into a bun as he stood there in his vacuum-sealed black shirt and gray sweat. This combination was dangerous for you, all you could do was stare. You already knew what was underneath his shirt, but the idea of seeing it again made your legs quiver a bit.

“You can come into the dining room through the living room on the right-hand side, and the bathroom is down this hall on the left for you to wash your hands.” He stepped aside for you to enter, looking over your body once again. “Oh okay.” You said. The way Aizawa positioned himself didn’t make it exactly ‘easy’ to come through the door. As you walked inside your body brushed up against his, as he didn’t make much of a fuss over it. He was enjoying it. This man was driving you insane.

You slid off your shoes at the door and made your way down to the bathroom. Locking the door behind you and turned on the faucet letting the water run for a bit. You stared at yourself momentarily in the mirror, trying to calm yourself down. Such a brief interaction between the two of you made you get wet like a damn waterfall. The racing thoughts and fantasies filled your brain with such intense lust for him. You cleared your throat and began to wash your hands.

While you were in the bathroom, Aizawa handed Eri off to Hizashi for him to drop her off at her sleepover. Aizawa pulled out a nice tablecloth and placed it over the dining table. He pulled out his fine china and cutlery, placing it on the dining room table. He pulled out a bottle of red wine and two glasses. He had a set of flowers in a vase for the centerpiece, before dimming down the lights. It wasn’t much for a last-minute dinner, but he was also afraid overdoing it would scare you off. His heart was beating tremendously while he placed the food on the plate. “Dammit call down.” He reprimanded himself silently.

After washing up in the bathroom, you joined Aizawa at the table in the dining room. Your heart raced as the somewhat romantic ambiance created. There was no sight of Eri, it was like she disappeared without a trace, the house was nice and silent. “Where’s Eri?” You asked him politely, as you sat down at your seat. Aizawa looked at the food and back at you. “A friend of mine came to pick her up and take her to a sleepover. She’s in good hands.” He said in the same smooth voice. “Besides Y/N, this dinner is me apologizing to you earlier. Eri has nothing to do between me and you.” He said as a small smirk appeared on his face.

There was no denying it now. You wanted this man to fuck you as you’ve never been fucked before. You cleared your throat and sat up straighter in your chair. “I see. Well with that out the way, let’s eat.” You stated elated with the atmosphere being created.

You indulged in a great and flavorful dinner, Aizawa had prepared for the two of you. His pot roast certainly made you fall for the man more, as he cooked like none other. “This is good. Especially after a long day at the gym. I think this might put me to sleep after I’m done.” You spoke jokingly. Aizawa grinned, as you enjoyed the meal. He sighed at the mention of sleep. “Sleep, I haven't gotten much of it.” He spoke in a bit of a hushed fashion as his eyes downcasted onto the plate of food in front of him. You glimpsed up at the man and slanted your head slightly at him. The bags he had were highly conspicuous as he looked like he did have a formidable time resting. “I can understand why, I mean you work and you have a very lively little girl, I’m sure sleeping is a bit difficult on your end.” You expressed. He chortled a bit and nodded His jovial expression seemed to calm some of your worries a bit.

Aizawa's eyes peered over to your outfit. Even though it wasn’t much the way your body looked, make him think of all the ways he wanted to break you. He felt a tinge in the lower region of his body. He figured it was time the two of you were on the same page. “Sleeping isn’t the only thing hard to come by.” He expressed playfully making his stare on your body more apparent. Your thighs squeezed together after hearing his rather suggestive comment. “Is that so?” You questioned in the same impish tone. He peeked up and bobbed his head. “Yes, it is. I haven’t had the best of luck with women these days, because of my busy schedule.” He told before leaning up on the table, resting his head in the palm of his hand. A slight grin swept your face captivated by this conversation it felt like your lewd fictions may become a reality. “Oh, I see. Is there anything I can do to help? You’ve treated me to such a great meal, it would be rude of me not to.” You said with a small smirk. Aizawa a devishly grin replaced his usual nonchalant expression. “Perhaps... What do you think will help me Y/N?” He taunted you, making your panties soak. A disbelief waved over you wanting to know how far the two of you would go, but you weren’t going to back down from this playful banter. “How about a massage?” Your voice oozed sultry, it made Aizawa feel another tinge of excitement in his gray sweats. “I would appreciate that very much, a shoulder massage would be much needed for those back squats from earlier.” He muttered and watched as you stood from the table and walked behind him placing your hands on his shoulders. You slowly massaged them. Your hands moved with precision and skill, effortlessly gliding over his broad thick shoulders. Aizawa let out a soft moan feeling the tension from his intense workout from earlier being at ease. The sound of his moans was like music to your ears, as your fingers knead their way along his shoulder blade, getting rid of the knots and tightness. Aizawa closes his eyes tossing his head back, feeling your nibble fingers for their magic.

“Do you like that?” You asked in a sensual tone.

Aizawa was aroused by your question, his soft pink lips parted before he spoke. “Very much.” He whispered seductively.

His answer satisfied you, working the knots in his shoulders. Aizawa didn’t shy away from moaning, making sure you heard every single one. “Fff-fuck.” He gasped and sighed heavily. You squeezed your thighs together sliding them together, yearning for some friction for your greedy clit. Your hands slide down to his back and up his shirt, feeling his larger back muscles. Your cold fingers on Aizawa’s bare skin almost sent him over the edge. Things he only dreamt of were being played right in front of him.

“How about we take this upstairs..” He whispered.

Those words sent a shiver down your spine, as you grew wetter by the second. “Alright then.” You replied, taking his hand. He helped you out of your seat He got up out of his seat leading you, up the stairs to his bedroom. You went to sit on the edge of the bed as Aizawa closed the door behind him. His hand slipped underneath his shirt, rubbing his abs as he approached you. He stood in front of you with the same mischievous grin. Your heart was about to burst out of your chest as you were thirsting for him. You made it obvious too, looking at the print in his gray sweats and biting on the corner of your lower lip. Aizawa removed his hand from underneath his shirt and made himself on the bed. His eyes cut over to you swiftly, an assertive persona seeping from him as he motions for you to sit on his lap. You crawled over and sat in his lap facing towards him. Your legs wrapped around his waist tightly, pressing your chest up on him.

“Take off my shirt and massage my back.” He spoke, peering with a lecherous gaze.

“Aren’t we needy?” You teased, as you took off his shirt, he chuckled. You were just as bad as he was. The moment you took off his shirt, your eyes darted to his well-defined physique. His chiseled chest and sculpted shoulders had you wanting to lick all over it. His torso was a true testament to the hard work he put in at the gym, he purposely flexed his muscles showing off his impressive size and definition. You traced subtle veins in his arms and chest making him tingle a bit. Aizawa leaned up to kiss your neck, which made you moan instantly. “Fuck.” You whispered, enthralled by the sensation. His lips lifted off your rich brown skin and to your ear. “My massage, princess.” He spoke in a hushed tone. The potent mixture of desire filled every inch of your body, and hearing him calling you ‘princess’ made you hot and bothered. Your hands are placed on his back, rubbing it slowly, those soft hands make Aizawa grunt pleasurably, nestling his head into your shoulder. His dick was rock hard as you continued to massage the knots in his back. His silent curses made your pussy weak for him, and your hips started to buck against his crotch. Aizawa reached and grabbed your hips, stopping you. You were appalled by him stopping you when he smirked at you.

“You’re going to have to earn this dick.” He spoke in a rather serious tone flipping the two of you, so he was on top of you on the bed. He was more assertive and dominant over your body. He hovered his face closer over to yours, his lips brushed against yours.

“I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.” He whispered, staring you dead in the eye. You felt your pussy quaking, yearning for him more than ever. A smirk came across your lips, as your hands tugged at his torso. “So fuck me then.” You replied boldly, riling up the man in front of you even more. “I can’t wait to break you.” He declared hungrily. You wasted no time, touching all over his chest.

Your hands glided over his hardened nipples, which made him shiver a bit. Aizawa was amused by your fascination with his chest, but he wanted to touch you in the same way.. just as badly.

“Strip down for me princess.” He retorted hastily, taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it. A grin sweeper over your face and you did as asked of you. “Anything for you.” You spoke, before winking. You stripped off your clothes, revealing your sexy body to him. He was in awe and his mind raced with all the possibilities he could to you. Aizawa placed his hand on your chin and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. His tongue entered your mouth exploring your cavern and swirled around with yours. He stuck his tongue deeper down your throat, making you gag a bit. He wasn’t letting for an inch, you could tell he hadn’t fucked in a while, it was beginning to show how hungry he truly was. He broke the kiss as the two of you were heavily panting. Your mind was only focused on him, as he rubbed his big hands all over your body. You were curious to know how long it’s been since he last touched anyone, so you ask. “How long has it been.. since you last did this?” Aizawa smirked and got up from the top of you. “Too long.” He replied quite bluntly, and spread your thighs apart wide. A squeal escaped your lips from working out earlier that day. Despite your whimpers, he stretched out your thighs wider.

“Now then princess, play with that pretty pussy of yours.” He commanded. His words made your whole body hot. You didn’t object to it, your fingers dove right to that soaking cunt of yours. You moaned obsessively, giving him a suitable show. Your thighs spread wider, the more your fingers moved vigorously in and out that greedy pussy of yours. “Ngh.. Ahhh.” You called out as walls clenched around your sticky fingers. Your juices spilled onto the bed as you did, and Aizawa enjoyed every moment. His dick grew so hard it was almost about to burst out of his gray sweats. “Fuck, just like that princess.” He encouraged, watching intensely as you played with that sloppy cunt of yours. “You like that baby?” You moaned, as your eyes were staring into his. Aizawa nodded, biting his lower lip. “Of course, I am a princess. Fuck yourself harder for me.” He spoke flirtatiously. His voice was so fucking hot to you. Something about his low and silvery tone made your finger pump in and out your sobbing cunt faster. You were about to cum off over the sheets the way you were whimpering. “Shh-shit!” You moaned, and Aizawa came closer.

He pulled you by the hips to the edge of the bed and smiled. He kneeled on the floor and positioned his head in between your legs. “Let me handle this princess.” He said calmly, and you removed your hands.

He stuck his tongue out and began to lap his tongue in your wet folds. You shivered and moaned out loudly. “D-dammit.” You whimpered, as your hand took a fistful of his hair. He was pleased about your reactions and slurped up every drop you had to offer him. He was enthralled with your wet cunt, and started to vigorously eat you out relentlessly, whirling his tongue around your poor clit.

“F-fuck.. baby..ohhh!” You moaned and gripped his hair tighter. Your legs were shaking so badly, you didn’t know how much you could take. “Almost there, princess.” He purred before he dribbled his tongue over your glistening folds, before shoving his index and ring finger up your greedy hole. He was pumping his fingers in and out of you at an alarming rate aiming right towards your g spot. Your stomach was in knots, as you started to buck your hips against him. “I’m going to cum, I’m... shit... I’m so close, baby.” You said as your words we’re starting to slur a little. Aizawa ignored your whiny moans and continued to eat his favorite meal of the night. The sounds of your squelching pussy made him lap over your clit furiously.

It didn’t take long for you to throw your head back, as you bucked your hips faster, your climax was approaching. Your hands gripped his hair tighter, and you came all over his face, gasping. Aizawa slurped up every drop of your sweet release and lifted his head. He saw the fucked out look on your face and licked his fingers, slurping off your sweet release. “Princess, don't tell me you're worn out already. We have got the whole night ahead of us.” He teased and stood up. You watched tiredly, as slipped off his sweats and boxers. His dick oozed with precum, as he tapped it against your throbbing cunt. You gulped as little as he expected to take every inch of his long, hard dick. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll manage.” You spoke, and he smirked. “Good, now then princess. Turn around and ass up.” He spoke sternly.

You were starting to get all giddy from his words again and did what was told. You tooted your ass up sky-high for him, and he positioned himself behind you.

The tip of his cock teased your glistening hole making the two of you moan. The euphoria of it all had Aizawa weak as he continued to rub his giant head against you while your lower body was in intense agony. “Put it Shota.” You begged to get fuck. Aizawa ignored your pleas and continued to rub the head of his sticky cock around your glorious hole, teasing the both of you. After a while, he gave in and grunted entering your walls, and slapped your ass. The tip of his dick kissed your cervix, staying dormant until your walls adjusted around the throbbing dick. You let out a loud moan, gripping the sheets. “Shit, princess, you feel amazing.” He groaned, his big hands gripped your ass. “F-fuck.” Aizawa moaned, your walls were clenched desperately on his dick. He smacked your left-ass cheek, he wanted to break you some more.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” He spoke in a low hushed tone in your ear.

“Y-you.” You whimpered while your legs were about to buckle.

“Say it again.” He commanded.

“I-it belongs to you!” You whimpered more.

“Mmm, that's right.” He sounded giving that beautiful ass another powerful slap.

“Oh fuck..!” You moaned.

He wasted no time and rutted into your squelching pussy, slapping your ass repeatedly. Your hands gripped the sheets tighter, taking on his girthy cock. “Ooohhh babyy..” You whimpered while getting drilled in by a madman. He was going to fuck you so hard until you saw stars. He went harder and deeper with every time your pussy connected to his balls, the dopamine of hearing the clapping noise sent him over the edge.

“Tell me how much you love it, princess.” He groaned, spanking your ass again.

“I love it!” You screeched, feeling your body grow weaker every second. The lewd slapping of your and Aizawa's skin together filled up the walls of his bedroom. He was plunging deep inside your wet wall, feeling like he was rearranging your guts. He grunted again, giving your ass another slap. “Tell me how much you love this fat dick. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll sleep like a baby.” He murmured and slapped your ass again. “I love it so m-much.” You moaned.

Aizawa drilled into your pussy relentlessly, as your juices coated his thick dick, slamming into your g spot. He was getting close to seeing what a sloppy mess the two of you were becoming. He couldn’t help but want to tease you. He pulled out, edging his tip near your entrance. You were completely weak and craving for him to finish. “P-please. I need it. Give it back.” You moaned. Aizawa smirked. “Louder princess.” He urged you, before giving your ass another loud slap. You yelped a bit and moaned profusely. “Fuck me!” You shouted, and it was at those words he shoved his hard dick back inside your sloppy cunt, your tits bouncing uncontrollably. He fucking you so good your eyes begin to roll back, your toes started to curl. “Ohhh, fuck yes.” You purred.

Aizawa was deep inside your tight pussy, grunting with each passing stroke. “Fuck.. I’m close..” He snarled, reaching his hands onto your shoulder. You could barely take it, your knees were beginning to go weak. “Don’t you dare.” Aizawa muttered as he saw your body shaking about to tip over. You were about to object until he thrust into you roughly. “Dammit!” You shouted as we were approaching your end. Your walls clamped down tightly on Aizawa’s dick, as you came all on. The warmth of your cum running down his shaft, makes Aizawa curse silently before stuffing you full of his cum. “S-shit.” He said silently and watched as you collapsed onto the bed. Your body was spiraling, and Aizawa lay beside you with a smirk on his face.

He yawned, feeling tired enough to get some rest. He cradled you into his arms and kissed the side of your neck. “I’m going to love this princess.” He whispered sweetly in your ear. Your body began to relax, as you laid in his arms. “Me too.” You said softly.

His soft hands rubbed against your sore clit, making you squirm. He smirked. “I said we had all night darling..come sit on my face, Princess.”

END!

[minnie1oves]

Blood & Desire

Pairing:vampire!minsung x fem!reader

genre: Smut,Vampires,Dark romance

wc: 1850

synopsis:When a pair of mysterious strangers move into the house next door, the you can't shake the unsettling feeling they give off. Attractive yet distant, they seem to possess an aura of danger that lingers in the air

warnings: Dark Themes,Mature Content,Stalking/Watching,Power Dynamics,Paranoia,Supernatural Elements,

a/n: Yes this is my first work and I did put it out early than I expected also their is no smut in this chapter but their will be a lot of smut in later chapters.

Chapter 1: Lured by Shadows

The house next door had been empty for months. I’d grown used to its silence, the way it loomed like a ghost at the edge of the street, shrouded in vines and mystery. But when the new neighbors arrived, it was as though the air itself changed—heavier, electric, pulling at something deep in me I couldn’t quite name.

I first saw them at dusk. The sky was smeared with burnt orange and violet, and the faint sound of boxes being shuffled caught my attention. Peering through my bedroom window, I froze.

There were two of them, both otherworldly in a way I couldn’t explain. One—tall, sharp, and impossibly elegant—moved with predatory grace, his dark eyes scanning the street as if sensing every shadow. The other, shorter but no less striking, had a dangerous charm that softened only when he turned to his companion, the corner of his lips curling into a knowing smirk.

Their presence didn’t just draw me in—it commanded me.

When they noticed me watching, I felt it in my bones. The taller one, who I would later learn was Minho, tilted his head slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto mine like he’d found something he’d been searching for. His lips twitched, not quite a smile, but enough to send a shiver down my spine.I first met Jisung in the most awkward way possible—on the first day of my sophomore literature class.

“Welcome, everyone,” he said, his voice smooth and melodic. “I’m Professor Han. I’ll be your guide through this semester’s literary journey.”

Guide. Not teacher. It felt intentional, like he was leading us into some uncharted territory.

And then, as his eyes scanned the room, they landed on me. For a moment, I thought I saw them flicker with something unplaceable, something sharp. It was gone in an instant, replaced by a polite smile.

“Let’s start with introductions,” he said, but I barely heard him. My thoughts were still tangled with that first, unspoken exchange.

The shrill sound of the bell echoed through the lecture hall, snapping me out of my daze. I gathered my things quickly, grateful for the excuse to flee, though my legs felt unsteady as I moved toward the door. The rain outside had grown heavier, drumming against the windows with a steady rhythm.

Gray skies loomed overhead, the kind of day that usually left me lethargic and longing for a nap. But not today. Today, my thoughts were anything but calm.

Professor Han.

The way he looked at me—it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t the kind of glance you’d expect from a teacher trying to learn a student’s name. His gaze lingered, deliberate and unapologetic, as if he already knew more about me than I wanted anyone to. It had left my stomach in knots and my knees threatening to give out beneath me.

I stepped into the hall, the cool air brushing against my skin, but it did little to clear my mind. My eyes drifted to my hand clutching my bag, and I realized I was trembling.

Then there was the ring. A simple silver band on his finger that caught the dull light. Married, obviously. It wasn’t surprising, considering how attractive he was. But something about it felt... strange.

The thought of his partner pulled my memory back to the first time I’d seen them both—him and the other man. Tall, striking, with an aura so sharp it felt like it could cut through the rain itself. They were so similar yet so different, like opposing ends of a magnet.

I hadn’t interacted with the taller one yet, but even from a distance, he unsettled me. His gaze that first evening had felt just as intense, though less inviting, more predatory. Together, they exuded something I couldn’t put my finger on.

Weird. That was the only word I had for them. They weren’t like anyone else I’d ever met, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or something I should be worried about.

I tugged my jacket tighter around me as I stepped out into the rain. The downpour soaked the pavement, turning it slick and reflective. Gloomy days like this usually lulled me into a quiet exhaustion, but the way my heart raced with every thought of Professor Han and his piercing eyes made rest feel impossible.

As I reached the edge of the campus, I felt it again—a prickle along the back of my neck, like I was being watched. Slowly, I glanced over my shoulder, but the rain had blurred everything into shadows.

Still, I swore I saw someone standing just beyond the edge of the building, unmoving. Watching.

The rain came down harder as the minutes passed, the gray light of day giving way to an early, oppressive darkness. By the time I reached the edge of my neighborhood, it was barely 6:00 p.m., but it felt closer to midnight.

I pulled out my umbrella, the rain drumming against the fabric as I trudged home. My footsteps were drowned out by the storm, but my mind was louder than ever.

Those two men.

No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t shake them from my thoughts. Jisung—the new professor with the gaze that burned too hot for a classroom. And the other one, Minho, who I’d only seen from afar but whose presence was no less unnerving. Together, they were a mystery I wasn’t sure I wanted to solve.

By the time I reached my driveway, I was drenched from the knees down, the hem of my jeans clinging to my legs. But that discomfort faded the moment I saw someone standing at my front door.

Minho.

For a moment, I froze, gripping my umbrella tighter as I tried to process what I was seeing. He was just... standing there, his back to me, perfectly still despite the pouring rain. His hands were in his coat pockets, his head tilted slightly, as if he were listening for something.

Why is he here? I knew he was married to Jisung. I’d pieced that together quickly enough. But why would he be standing at my door, in the rain, without any warning or explanation?

My pulse quickened as I stepped closer, the chill in the air sinking deep into my bones. Hesitantly, I reached out and tapped his shoulder. The moment my fingers brushed the fabric of his coat, a shiver ran through me—sharp and cold, like an electric current.

He turned slowly, and I took an involuntary step back as his dark eyes met mine. Up close, they were sharper than I’d imagined, glinting with something I couldn’t name.

“Umm... hello,” I said, my voice barely louder than the rain.

Minho didn’t speak at first. Instead, he looked me over, his gaze deliberate and almost... calculating. The silence stretched between us, broken only by the steady roar of the storm.

Finally, he smiled—a small, subtle curve of his lips that somehow felt more unnerving than comforting.

“Good evening,” he said, his voice low and smooth, like velvet over steel.

The way he said it, like we were old acquaintances instead of strangers, made my stomach twist.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, clutching my umbrella tighter.

His smile widened just a fraction, and he tilted his head slightly, as if amused by the question. “I was waiting for you.”

The rain pounded harder, the wind picking up around us, but his voice carried easily through the storm, calm and unbothered.

“Waiting for me?” I echoed, trying to keep my voice steady. “Why?”

His eyes flickered to the door behind me before settling back on my face. “To make sure you got home safely, of course. The storm is unforgiving tonight.”

It sounded reasonable enough, but the way he said it, like he wasn’t telling me the whole story, sent a shiver down my spine.

Minho’s dark eyes lingered on mine as he opened his mouth to speak, his voice smooth and deliberate.

“We’d like to get to know our new neighbor a bit more,” he said, his words slow, measured. “How about dinner on Friday? Jisung mentioned you’re one of his students. He thought it might be... nice.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden invitation. Dinner? With them? The idea felt strange, unsettling even, but there was something in the way he spoke—like a question that wasn’t really a question.

“Oh, um...” I hesitated, trying to gather my thoughts. “Sure, I guess that sounds fine.”

Minho’s smile returned, sharp and fleeting, as though he already knew I’d say yes.

“Perfect,” he said softly. “We’ll see you then. Seven o’clock.”

Before I could ask any of the questions bubbling up in my mind, he turned and began walking away, his movements as fluid as water. The sound of the rain swallowed his footsteps almost instantly, leaving me standing there, still clutching my umbrella like a lifeline.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the confusion clouding my mind, and turned to unlock my door. As the lock clicked, I stole one last glance over my shoulder. Minho was nearly at his house, his figure barely visible through the downpour.

Once inside, I shut the door firmly and leaned against it, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. My pulse was racing, and I didn’t know why.

Dinner with them? The thought churned in my head as I kicked off my soaked shoes and set my umbrella by the door. Everything about them—their looks, their voices, the way they carried themselves—felt like it was designed to pull me in, even when I didn’t want it to.

I was tired, too tired to think about it any longer. The rain had soaked through my clothes, the chill clinging to my skin. With a sigh, I stripped off the wet layers and made my way to the bathroom.

The hot water of the shower was a relief, soothing the tension in my muscles and washing away the lingering cold. But as I stood there, letting the steam wrap around me, an inexplicable feeling crept in.

It wasn’t fear—not exactly. It was heavier than that, deeper. Like an invisible hand pressing against my chest, filling me with an almost dizzying warmth that made my knees weak.

I braced myself against the cool tiles of the shower wall, my breath hitching as the feeling grew stronger, more intense. My heart pounded, the sound of it drowning out even the rush of water.

It felt... wrong. Like I wasn’t alone.

I quickly shook the thought away, rinsing off and shutting the water off with shaky hands. Wrapping myself in a towel, I stepped out of the shower, my eyes scanning the empty bathroom as though expecting someone—or something—to be there.

But of course, there was nothing. Only the faint hum of the rain outside and my own unsteady breathing.

I tried to brush it off as exhaustion, but the feeling lingered, clinging to me like a shadow as I climbed into bed.

And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about them.

[oizysian]

Use Me, I’m Yours | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Stalker!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader Warnings: dubcon, slight noncon, knife play, very crazy Wanda, slightly crazy Y/N Word Count: 3.1k Genre: smut Summary: Wanda finally finds you and makes you hers.

• Kinktober Masterlist •

Wanda’s POV

She’s perfect.

From the first moment I laid my eyes on her, I knew she was the one. It’s been months since then, and I’ve been waiting patiently for the right moment to call her mine.

Y/N. Y/N is her name.

“H-how do you know my name?”

My little flower. My precious dove. My innocent little bunny.

I know all that I need to know, and soon all you’ll know is me.

Her eyes flutter open and she looks around as if her environment has changed somehow. No, love, it’s still your quaint, little apartment in Queens. I haven’t moved anything an inch since I came in, waiting excitedly for you.

She panics, she can’t move her hands or legs and I smile. She’s so cute when she struggles against the pretty, yet intricate knots I learned how to do just for her. They’re tied into little bunny ears for my little bunny.

“H-hello? What the fuck,” she grumbles, pulling on her restraints. “What’s going on?” She calls out into the darkness of the room.

I wait a moment longer, taking in the sight before me. Her skirt is bunched up around her hips now from her movements, her cute pink panties clearly visible from where I was lurking. Her wrists are becoming red from the ropes and her long socks protect her ankles from the same fate.

“Who’s there?!” She calls out and I realize I need to shut her up before her neighbors hear her.

I emerge from the darkness, the moonlight from the window illuminating my face; dark makeup, emerald eyes, red lips. She’s silent as she takes me in, her own eyes trailing over my face and upper body once I reveal myself.

“Who are you?” She whispers, her lower lip trembling with fear.

“Wanda.” I gestured to myself with the jagged knife I was holding. “Y/N.” I pointed at her and she flinched.

“H-how do you know my name?”

“I know all about you. You were made for me.”

“What?” Her voice is small and quiet.

“You belong to me, Y/N. And I belong to you.”

“No … I don’t even know you!”

“But, I know you.” I took a step closer to her, closing the window so all light in the room was gone.

I could hear her panting, grunting as she tried to free herself in the darkness. I flicked on the light and she squinted at the brightness. How cute was she?

“You go to the little coffee shop down the street every morning. You give them your name; Y/N. Some mornings, if you’re early, you’ll get a bagel with bacon, egg and cheese on it. Most days you’re late and you just get your frappe.”

“What the fuck!” She yelled, not even letting me finish her routine. I knew all of it.

“That’s very rude of you, bunny.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to escape. But, she could never escape my love.

I walked up to her, pulling a pair of her panties that I had stolen from her dresser out of my back pocket and stuffing it in her mouth.

“Now keep that there,” I brought the blade up to her neck and she cried softly, pleading to me with those big, beautiful eyes. “Or I’ll use this.”

She nodded and I leaned into her, pressing my lips to her forehead and then taking a step back to admire her. She was trembling, her tears flowing silently as she kept her own panties in her mouth, keeping her quiet. I knew she would be an obedient little pup.

I got on my knees in front of her and her eyes never left mine as I took the knife and dragged it carefully along her thigh. She cried out, shaking her head as I ran it along the hem of her panties, letting it trail between her legs, the tip pressing into her clit.

I could hear her begging and pleading, but for what, I didn’t know. My eyes never left hers as I gently rubbed the knife against her, bringing it up and down along her slit carefully. I finally looked down and noticed a slight wet spot on her panties.

I returned my gaze to hers and realized her cheeks were bright red, and she wasn’t struggling anymore. My good girl.

“You like me playing with you, don’t you detka?”

She let out a whimper and shook her head.

“I don’t like liars, Y/N.” I pressed the knife into her cunt ever so slightly and she panicked, trying to back away and nodding.

“Yeah? You like it?”

She nodded, choking back sobs as I brought the knife up and pulled her panties up with my free hand, slicing the garment without any struggle at all.

I tugged at the destroyed piece of cloth and it fell from the chair she was tied to, hitting the floor and leaving her open to me.

I tilted my head as I admired her glistening wetness. She attempted to close her legs, but I tied her to the chair tight enough to keep her still, but not cut off her circulation.

“My beautiful malyshka. Look at how wet you are for me.”

I flipped the knife around, carefully handling the blade as I let the handle stroke her clit. She let out a breathy moan, still crying, as I pressed it into her, applying gentle pressure to her sensitive bud.

“Please,” she cried, muffled by the panties. “Please.”

“Please, what? Use those big girl words that I know you know.”

She let the panties fall from her lips and she panted softly before finally speaking to me.

“Please … don’t hurt me.” Her voice was small and broken and I smiled up at her.

“Have I hurt you?” She shook her head. “So, what makes you think I’ll hurt you now?”

Her eyes fell to the knife between her legs and I followed them down, my own eyes landing on the knife as well.

“This?” I pressed it against her clit and she hissed. “It’s just one of my little toys. I have many.”

I brought the knife hilt up to my lips and sucked on it, cleaning her slick from the handle. She watched me, wide eyed, as I placed the knife down next to me, and returned my attention to her pussy.

“This is mine.” I said as I brought myself between her legs, kissing her inner thighs, causing her to jerk in surprise. “Relax,” I cooed, bringing my hands up and stroking her thighs. “I’ll take good care of you.”

I pressed my lips to her clit, giving it a kiss before licking a strip up her slit. She let out a breathy moan, wriggling slightly in her binds as I tasted her straight from the source. I was addicted to her.

I dipped my tongue into her heat, fucking her slowly, my nails digging into her thighs as I explored her pulsing cunt. She was wetter than I expected her to be, and tasted even better than I imagined.

“Oh,” she moaned softly, her legs trembling under my hands. “Please … stop.”

I hummed my negative answer, telling her I wouldn’t be stopping any time soon, and continuing to eat her out with a hungry fervor.

She writhed, her nails digging into the arm of the chair as she tried to fight me off. She couldn’t get away from me, and from the sounds she made, she really didn’t want to escape.

“Please,” she cried, her hips bucking ever so slightly upwards towards my mouth as I licked and sucked at her. “Please …”

I slipped my tongue inside her, feeling her pulse and throb around me - I knew she was close. I swirled my tongue around her aching clit, flicking it teasingly.

She moaned, her breath getting caught in her throat as she finally let go and came. Her legs trembled and she threw her head back, crying out as pleasure washed over her, whether she wanted it to or not.

I lifted my head up to look at her in the throes of passion, falling even deeper in love with her as I watched her come down from her high. I licked my lips greedily, not wanting a drop of her to go to waste.

“You taste so good, bunny.”

She let out a sob, her whole body trembling as she realized what had just happened. She came for me even though she was terrified, even though she was fighting not to. My love for her was strong enough to overcome all odds.

“Bunny,” I whispered against her thigh, rubbing my cheek along the soft skin there. “You’re my bunny, aren’t you? Say it.”

“No.” She cried, her chest heaving as she looked down at me.

“Say. It.”

I picked up the knife and pressed it against her inner thigh. Her breath hitched as she watched me, fear and arousal flooding her senses.

“I’m your bunny.” She whispered and I smiled.

“That’s right. You’re my innocent, little bunny.”

I stood, knife still in hand, and leaned towards her, pressing the knife flat against her chest.

“Now,” I said as I let the jagged edge of the knife get caught in her shirt. “Let’s get this off.”

She flinched as I pulled on the knife, ripping a hole in her cute little t-shirt. I took my time tearing up her clothing, leaving her in just her bra and skirt. She looked so fucking hot.

She had left a nice stain on the wooden chair she was tied to, and surely her wrists would be bruised after all of this, but it would be worth it to show and prove my love to her.

I dragged the knife along her throat, down her collarbone to the slight dip between her breasts. She watched me, her eyes fearfully never leaving the knife as I toyed with her. The knife found its way to her left breast, teasingly stroking her nipple through the fabric of her bra. She hissed as her body reacted, her nipple hardening under the touch of my blade.

“Your body was made for me.” I brought the knife down to the edge of her bra cup and carefully cut it open, her breast spilling out, on display for me. “Look at how it reacts to me. Your nipples are hard, you’re absolutely soaked,” I took a deep breath and straddled her, my legs on either side of hers. “You’re mine.”

She stared at me defiantly, ignoring the fact that she was currently at a disadvantage. I held the power and I wasn’t afraid to use it to prove my love to her.

I grabbed her face with my free hand and pressed my lips to hers, forcing my tongue into her mouth so I could explore every inch of her. She whined, but gave into me, opening her mouth and letting me do as I pleased to her. Of course she obeyed me, she was perfect and, naturally, obedient. She was made to be mine.

I let the knife glide along her skin carefully, leaving a faint, red trail in its wake.

“Oops,” I whispered against her lips, looking down at her breast. “I made a mess.”

I brought my head down and licked the thin line of blood that beaded up on her skin, kissing the minor wound I had inflicted on her.

“I promised not to hurt you.” I spoke against her skin, still peppering tiny kisses along the superficial cut. “But, that didn’t hurt, did it?”

I looked up at her and she shook her head, her tears nearly ceasing as she watched me. I got up off of her lap and got on my knees in front of her again, eagerly taking her nipple in my mouth and biting it gently, causing her to cry out and moan at the pleasure. I sucked on her hungrily, licking and nipping any skin I could get into my mouth.

Her body jerked up towards me with desire, the need for me to touch her as I continued to assault her sensitive breast. I would give her my gift soon enough.

I released her breast with a soft pop and looked up at her, her eyes dark with desire, her lips slightly parted as she panted softly.

“I’ve got something for you, my love.”

I stood from where I had been kneeling in front of her and grabbed at the slight bulge in my pants. Her eyes widened at the implication and she looked from my hand to my face. I could only smile back at her as I undid my pants, pushing them down my legs as the pink strap sprung forth, ready for her waiting cunt.

“It's finally time to consummate our love. You’re already soaked, I know you’re ready for me.”

I bent down and sliced through the knots that kept her ankles tied to the chair, finally allowing her freedom. I knew she wouldn’t run. We were made for each other.

I carefully released her hands from their binds and she quickly brought them close to her chest, rubbing the sore spots on her wrists.

“Now don’t do anything stupid,” I pointed the knife at her. “Or I’ll have to tie you up again.”

She nodded and satisfied, I brought the knife down to my side and led her over to the bed, laying her down and getting on top of her.

“I’ll be so gentle with you, bunny.” I whispered against her trembling lips. “I’ll fuck you so gentle.”

I lied. How could I be gentle when the woman of my fantasies was lying underneath me? No, she would get all of my love, all of my passion.

She let out a strangled sob as I pressed myself into her heat, her hands coming up to my shoulders to push me away. I grabbed her hands in one of mine and pushed them into the mattress, not wanting her to ruin our special moment together.

I placed the knife down beside her head so I could adjust my cock, slipping it inside of her with no resistance at all. She moaned lowly, throwing her head back as I began moving inside her. She wrapped her legs around me as I pounded into her, grabbing the knife once again. I knew she would give into my love eventually.

I gripped the knife tighter and brought it up to her throat, pressing it gently into her.

“You like this, don’t you, bunny? You like being held down and fucked like the whore you are.”

She cried, but nodded ever so slightly, swallowing roughly as she felt the blade against her skin.

“I know, sweet thing. I know exactly what you need.”

I pounded into her, her cries turning into guttural moans as I fucked her into complete submission. I could feel myself getting close, just the act of fucking her getting me off, but I didn’t want to cum first - I wanted us to come together.

I let go of her hands and she kept them above her head, staying still and submissive for me while I brought my hand down between our bodies and played with her cute, little pussy, rubbing fast circles along her clit. She cried out when she felt my fingers against her sensitive bud, and the sounds she made only drove me further to get her to cum.

I took the knife from her neck and placed it on the bed next to us, then grabbed her face and kissed her.

My love was true and pure.

She moaned into my mouth as pleasure overtook her and I picked up speed at the sound, swallowing her moans as I came right along with her. This was everything I wanted and so much more.

I laid down on top of her, peppering her face with tiny kisses as she escaped the throes of ecstacy.

“W-Wanda ...” She whispered.

“Yes, my love?” I responded softly, bringing my hand up to stroke her hair out of her face.

“Why?”

“Hm?” I questioned back, confused.

“Why me?”

“God chose you for me, bunny. That’s all there is to it.”

“God?”

“Mhm.” I kissed her neck, my hips moving against hers slowly. “God wanted me to take you like this. To make you mine.”

She gasped softly, her hands gripping at my shoulders as I began fucking her again, this time, painfully slow. I wanted her to want this, want me. I wanted her to beg for it.

“Unh, W-Wanda,” she grunted, pulling me close to her as I touched the deepest part of her. “I …”

“What, bunny?” I whispered against her lips, kissing her once again. “Tell me what you need.”

She turned her head from me, her eyes landing on the knife beside us. I followed her gaze, unsure of what she was thinking. She let go of me and slowly grabbed the knife. My hand met hers, both of us holding onto the blade, but neither of us made a move to use it.

“Do you want to hurt me?” I whispered softly and she shook her head. “What do you want?”

Without warning, I flipped us over, letting her sit on top of me, knife still in hand, now hovering over me. She moaned as she pressed herself down into me, fucking herself on my cock. I watched in awe of her as she pleasured herself, bringing the knife down to my throat and running it along my collarbone.

“Use me, I’m yours.”

I let go of the knife and let my hands fall beside my head, letting her take complete control of me. This was love.

Her free hand went between us and she played with her clit as she let the knife trail across my chest. I could feel the tip digging into me through my shirt and realized she was getting off from it.

“Bunny,” I whined softly, my own clit aching and begging for attention. “Fuck me.”

“Want me to fuck you with this?” she whispered against my lips, bringing the knife back up to my throat and pressing it against me. “Use you like you used me?”

“Please,” I choked out, my heart pounding out of my chest. “I love you.”

She bit her lip and rolled her hips, sighing softly as she neared release once more, this time holding all the power.

“Fuck,” she moaned, bouncing on my cock as she rubbed her clit. “Wan- Wanda!”

She came saying my name! I watched her as she writhed above me, the knife falling slack in her hand as she rode out her orgasm. I took it from her and smiled, proud of her and so, so happy.

She laid down on top of me and brought her sticky fingers to my mouth, which I gladly took and sucked on.

“I want you to carve your name into my body.” She whispered softly and I released her fingers, smiling excitedly at the idea.

This was love.

And maybe, just maybe, she was somehow just as crazy as I was.

•

@natashaswife4125, @poison-blackheart, @aemilia19, @claxre-bear, @dorabledewdroop

[sissylittlefeather]

Kinktober Day 14: Praise Kink

Tell Me You Like It

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, cussing, kissing, oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, age gap (everyone is legal)

Word Count: ~2.5k

Kinktober Masterlist

Elvis is sitting on the steps outside Lauderdale Courts with his guitar, trying not to freeze. It's late January, but there's still patches of snow and ice scattered around. He doesn't want to bother his mama inside, though, so here he is outside with his guitar again. He sees you making your way from the store, your arms loaded with groceries and he stops strumming, watching you closely and looking for an excuse to interact with you. 

You're his upstairs neighbor and he's had a crush on you since he laid eyes on you last summer when you moved in. He'd helped you with boxes and introduced himself immediately, offering to assist with anything you might need since you were a single woman living alone. You've asked for his help with a few things like changing lightbulbs and getting the mail when it's raining and he's always happy to oblige. In truth, you might have a little crush on him too. He is desperately cute and so eager to please. Despite the more-than-ten year age gap, there's definitely tension any time he's in your apartment. 

So today, he watches you carrying the groceries and considers offering to help. He's dying to get closer to you and see if there might be something to the flirtation between you. This is what he's contemplating as you find a patch of ice with your foot and slide, hitting the ground hard. In a second, he tosses his guitar to the side and runs over to see if you're alright. 

“Miss y/n!” He makes it to you quickly and gets you to your feet, collecting the groceries that have scattered across the ground. “Are you okay?!” 

You nod your head shakily and take stock of your body. Everything seems to still be in working order, but your elbow stings. You try to look at it, but you can't really see it. 

“Am I bleeding?” He looks at your elbow and nods. 

“Yeah, you tore your sweater too. Can I help you get these groceries up to your apartment?” 

“Yes, please.” He takes the bag and you start to walk gingerly towards the stairs. You reach out and take his arm and both of you ignore the shiver that runs down your spine. 

At the top of the stairs, he takes your keys from your trembling hand and unlocks the front door. He sets the groceries on the kitchen counter and then moves over to you on the couch. 

“You alright, ma'am?”

“Elvis, how many times have I asked you not to call me ‘ma'am'? It makes me feel like I'm a hundred years old.” 

“I'm sorry, honey, it's just a habit.” He watches you carefully to see how you respond to him using the endearment. You try to make it seem like you don't notice, but your body gets warm and you hope he doesn't stop. You shake your head to refocus on the situation. 

“I need to get this elbow cleaned up, but I can't really see it.” You turn your arm around and try to look, but it's in the perfect place to be impossible to see. 

“I can help. I'm pretty good with a bandaid.” He cringes a little, embarrassed at his attempt at flirting. You laugh a little and nod. 

“That would be great, baby, thank you.” He damn near melts when you call him ‘baby’. “The first aid kit is in the hall closet.” 

He comes back with the supplies and sits on the couch next to you, his knee bumping into yours and making you both smile awkwardly. You hold your elbow up to let him look. 

“What's the verdict, doc?” He wets a cotton ball with some alcohol and dabs at it as you wince. 

“I'm sorry, honey, I know it stings. You can hold my hand if you want to.” He smiles slyly and lays his other hand on your knee for you to squeeze. You hesitate for a second and then wrap your fingers in his and hold on tight. He looks at your elbow and frowns. “I can't really get to it very well through your sweater. Can you roll your sleeve up?” 

You make an effort, but it just won't roll up that far. He blushes a little, his heart pounding, and almost whispers. 

“You could just take it off.” You look at him with your eyes wide. It would solve the problem of how to reach the cut on your elbow. You blink a few times and then just do it, pulling your sweater over your head and dropping it on the floor. His eyes roam over your top half, now covered by just your bra, his mouth hanging open a little. “I-I-I never dreamed you'd actually do it.” 

“Really need my elbow bandaged.” You whisper, your stomach in knots wondering what he's thinking. 

“Wow, umm okay.” He tries to ignore his growing erection and goes back to dabbing at your elbow with the cotton ball. When he finishes, he blows on it lightly and goosebumps run across your body. “Sorry, that's what my mama always does to make it hurt less.”

“It works.” You murmur quietly as he applies the bandaid carefully. Once that's done he looks up at you sweetly. 

“Does it hurt?”

“Just a little bit.” He smiles sheepishly and then leans in and presses his lips to the bandage. 

“That better?” You can't help the smile that spreads across your face as you nod. 

“Much.” Your eyes meet and are locked together for what feels like an eternity before you realize that you're both leaning in. When his lips finally reach yours, it takes a second for you to register anything beyond how soft they are, but when you realize what's happening, you jump up from the couch with your hand over your mouth. 

“Oh my god. I'm so sorry. That was wrong.” He stands up and tries to reassure you. 

“No, honey, it wasn't! I wanted it!”

“Ohhhhh no no no, this is bad. I'm way too old for you. You're what, 18?” He puts his hands on his hips, obviously frustrated. 

“I'm 19.” You bring your palm up to your forehead and look at him in disbelief. 

“Elvis. I am 33 years old.” 

“And? I'm a man. You're a woman. I don't see why it matters.” He takes your hand and kisses your fingers. For a second, you're under his spell. But then you come back down to earth. 

“It matters! There's no way you want me. I'm too old and you're so young-”

“I'm old enough to know what I want. I want you.” Your hand is still in his.  

“Elvis, no, baby. You don't-” He moves your hand down between his legs and puts your fingers on his erection. 

“Does that feel like I don't know what I want?” You look at him in shock, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your breathing picks up. His cock is rock hard and bigger than you expect. The spot between your legs gets warmer and wetter and you suddenly wish he would take that cock and put it- “Well? Does it?” 

You're shaken from your fantasy by his question, but you're not sure what to say. 

“Elvis…” 

“I want you, y/n. I've wanted you for months. And I don't wanna hear any more bullshit about you being too old. I know how old you are. I want you anyway.” He says it just above a whisper and then leans forward and kisses you softly again. “Please.” 

Your heart is beating wildly as he presses soft kisses first to your lips and then your cheek and jawline, down to your neck. 

“Please.” He keeps moving down, pressing his lips to the supple skin that peeks out over the cup of your bra. You moan softly as he pulls the cup down and runs his tongue around your nipple. 

“Please. Tell me you like it, honey. Tell me it feels good.” 

“It feels so good, baby.” He moans softly and sucks your nipple into his mouth, nibbling on it gently. “Fuck, it feels good.” 

He puts both hands on your lower back and keeps moving his lips down, dropping to his knees to press hot kisses to your stomach. 

“What do you want, honey? Tell me what you want and I'll do it.” You look down at him on his knees in front of you and know you're not saying no anymore. 

“Take me to the bedroom.” You don't have to tell him twice. He stands up and sweeps you into his arms, carrying through the tiny apartment to your room. Laying you on the bed, he looks to you for his next instruction. “Clothes. Off.”

It takes him about thirty seconds to do what he's told and strip. He hesitates for half a second when he gets to his pants. 

“I wanna see you, baby. You look so good. Let me see you.” You're figuring out quickly that he likes the praise, maybe even needs it to build his confidence enough to keep going. He drops his pants, letting his dick bounce free and you bite your bottom lip. “Oh, baby.”

“You like it? You like the way I look?” You nod as he walks to you and pulls your skirt down, kissing your thighs. 

“I love it. You look so sexy.” You feel him smile against your leg and arch your back. It occurs to you that he really may not know what comes next. “Baby, have you ever-”

“No. But I will. Anything you want.” He looks up at you with those heavily-lidded eyes and you feel yourself get noticeably wetter. You sit up a little and unclasp your bra, tossing it to the side and then start to slide your panties down. He jumps in and pulls them the rest of the way down and off. His eyes are wide as plates as he looks at you sprawled naked on the bed. It's clear that he's never seen a naked woman in person. “I don't know where to start.” 

“Yes you do, baby. You'll be so good. Just do what comes natural.” He nods and keeps pressing his lips to your skin. 

“Can I touch you? On your…” 

“Yes, baby. You can touch me anywhere you want.” You spread your legs for him and watch as his eyes go wide again. He gently strokes you with his fingers and then slides one up into you. “Oh, baby, yes that's so good. Your fingers are so long.” 

He adds a second finger and pumps them in and out, his boldness growing with every second. You moan and grind yourself into his hand and he has an idea. This time he decides not to ask for permission and instead just presses his lips to you. 

“Oh, fuck, baby yes!” 

“You like that? When I kiss you there?”

“Kiss me with tongue, baby.” He nods and leans forward, swirling his tongue on you. Somehow, he manages to be right on your clit on the first try. “OH GOD. It's so good! You're so good. Don't stop.” 

He licks more fervently, motivated by every word that falls from your lips. You start to writhe and pant as he makes out with your pussy, slamming his fingers into you over and over again. 

“I'm gonna cum. You're gonna make me cum. Oh FUCK!” You cry out as your orgasm hits you, shooting like lightning through your body, sparking in all the right places as you pulse and shudder into his mouth. He keeps licking you through it and you grab his hair to pull him off of you. 

“Was that good?” He looks up at you innocently. 

“Was that… baby that was incredible. Oh you're so good, my good boy. I love it.” He puffs with pride as you shower him with praise and kisses as you bring him up to lay next to you on the bed. You feel his cock against your leg, weeping precum and aching for attention. “You want me to touch you? What does my good boy want?” 

“T-touch me. Please.” He bucks his hips, begging for contact. You take him in your hand and begin to slowly stroke him, sliding his foreskin back and forth. He groans and leans his head on your shoulder. You know if you do too much he'll cum and then you'll both be disappointed. 

“You wanna fuck me? You wanna feel my pussy wrapped around your dick?” He whimpers and nods without moving his head from your shoulder. You use your hand to make him look into your face. “Hey. You're sure this is what you want?” 

“Honey, I've literally never wanted anything more than I want to fuck you right now.” You smile and he kisses you deeply, rolling up on top of you and pressing his tip against your entrance. “You ready?”

“Yes, baby. Let me feel that big dick.” He whimpers and groans and starts to push into you. A loud moan escapes your lips as you feel him enter you. He really is bigger than you thought he'd be and the feeling of being filled by him is almost overwhelming. 

“Oh, god, honey, fuck.” He has a hard time stringing words together with the sensation of you wrapped around him so tightly. “Does it feel good?”

“Baby. It feels so good. God, I might cry it feels so good. Your dick is amazing.” He smiles and kisses your lips. His hips snap against you and he picks up a steady rhythm of fucking into you. “Yes! Good boy. Oh my god.” 

He grunts and pounds you mercilessly, sweat droplets forming on his forehead. His hand moves down to hold your hip in place as he slams into you over and over again. 

“Take… my… cock… baby…” 

“Yes! Yes! YES!” 

The world goes black as the two of you reach your climax at the same time, crying out and grasping at each other, both of you throbbing and trembling together. When you finally come to, he has his arms around you, holding you tightly and trying to catch his breath. 

“Was that good, honey?” He asks, breathlessly. 

“Baby, that was unbelievable. You've really never done that before?” He shakes his head, tiny drops of sweat falling from his hair. “It was so good. You did so good, baby.” 

He pulls you into a deep kiss and rolls over, letting you settle on his chest. 

“So did it matter? That I'm younger than you?” You think for a second. You should say yes, but that would be a lie. 

“No.”

“When can we do it again?” You smile and look up at him. 

“Whenever you want, baby. You're the best I've ever had.” He glows with pride and squeezes you against him. 

“Can I stay?” 

“Can you?” You look up at him questioningly. 

“I'm a man now, honey. I can do what I want.” You giggle and kiss his cheek. 

“Yes. I suppose you are.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @deltafalax @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @jhoneybees @polksaladava @searchingforgravity @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @your-nanas-house @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Work Too Hard, Can You Fuckin' Pay Me?

Part 8 - Y/N moved to escape some of thier looming troubles from Westview, to the place that their best friend said would make a difference. New job, new digs, will Y/N make a change for the better, or leave another city with their tail between their legs?

A/N: Sorry it's been taking so long between updates, y'all. My life got craaaaaazy messy of late, and now I'm struggling to even cover basic bills. I try to write when I can. Much love, y'all.

TW: Angst, Intersex reader, reader has some... not so great coping habits, sexual tension, smut

Word Count: 2.4K

Read Pt. 1 HERE Read Pt. 2 HERE Read Pt. 3 HERE Read Pt. 4 HERE Read Pt. 5 HERE Read Pt. 6 HERE Read Pt. 7 HERE

Command Me to Be Well

The drive to your place was a blur of anticipation, your mind racing with the possibilities of what the night might hold. When you pulled into the driveway, you didn't even bother taking your things out of the backseat of your car. Wanda's hand was in yours before you could blink, and she was leading you from your driveway, up the walkway to her front porch, and through the door into the house, shutting it firmly behind you. The air was charged with the electricity of unspoken desires, and you could feel the weight of your fears slowly lifting away.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Y/N," she whispered, her eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. You took a deep breath and nodded, feeling the warmth of her hand as it slipped from yours. Her nails scraped across your chest, a low growl coming from you as your head tilted back against the cool wall behind you.

"I want this," you managed to say, your voice thick with need. "I want you." You could feel the blood rushing throughout your body, and you are sure that your neighbors could hear your heartbeat. Wanda's smile grew as she stepped closer to you, her hand moving to the knot of your tie.

Her movements were slow and deliberate as she loosened it, her eyes never leaving yours. The ends lay respectively on each side of your chest, as she runs her hands up your chest before tangling her fingers into your hair, pulling you down to her for a bruising kiss. Your hands found the hem of her shirt, lifting it up to expose her midriff, her skin soft and warm to the touch. She breaks the kiss for a moment to let out a gasp of pleasure as you trail your fingertips inside of her shirt, up her side, feeling her body shiver against you.

The living room is dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering of the electric fireplace, which you both ignore as you stumble down the hallway to the bedroom, your mouths never leaving each other. The door clicks shut behind you, muffling the noise from the outside world and leaving you in a cocoon of desire. Wanda's bed is unmade, the covers thrown back from her earlier restlessness. You can't help but smirk, knowing you're about to make it even more disheveled. You began walking Wanda back towards her bed, letting her fall to the mattress with a gasp as you leaned down, slotting your knee in between her thighs.

Her hands are everywhere, unbuttoning your shirt with trembling fingers, sliding it off your shoulders. Your chest is bare, and the cold air hits your skin, causing your nipples to pebble. She runs her hands over your skin, her nails scraping lightly, leaving a trail of heat behind. You moan into her neck as she nibbles the sensitive skin there, the feeling causing your cock to throb in your pants. You're desperate to feel more of her, to taste her. You kiss down her chest, your mouth finding the soft skin above her bra.

Wanda arches into you, her breath hitching as you trace a pattern of kisses and licks along the upper swells of her breasts. You can feel her heart pounding, echoing your own, as you reach behind and unhook the clasp, her breasts spilling out into your waiting hands. They're perfect, full and soft, and your thumbs tease her nipples, causing her to arch further into you, a low moan escaping her lips. You take one in your mouth, suckling gently at first, then increasing the pressure as she cries out. She tastes like vanilla and something uniquely Wanda, and it's intoxicating.

Her hands are in your hair, guiding you, urging you on as you kiss and lick her breasts, her hips moving restlessly against your thigh. You can feel the dampness through your pants, and you know she's soaked for you. The anticipation is unbearable, but you refuse to rush this. You want to savor every moment, every touch, every sound she makes. You kiss a path down her stomach, her abs contracting as you get closer to her pants. You pull back, looking at her, needing to see the desire in her eyes. She nods, her eyes hooded and dark with lust, and you know she wants this as much as you do. You unbutton her pants, sliding them down, along with her underwear.

Her legs are smooth and bare, and you run your hands up the inside of her thighs, feeling her quiver. She's already spread for you, and you can see the slickness of her arousal glistening in the dim light. You lean in, kissing the inside of her thighs, making her gasp. Your breath is hot against her pussy, and she bucks against you. You spread her wider with your thumbs, licking up her slit and making her moan loudly. She's sweet and salty, and you can't get enough. You flick her clit with the tip of your tongue, and she jolts, her hands tightening in your hair.

You look up at her, watching her face contort with pleasure, and it's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. You lick and suck, swirling your tongue around her clit, feeling her get closer and closer. She's panting now, her hips moving in time with your mouth. You insert a finger, feeling her tighten around you. She's so wet, so ready, and you know it won't be long now. You add another finger, curling them inside her, searching for that magical spot that will send her over the edge.

Her body tenses, her back arching off the bed, and she screams your name as she comes, her walls pulsing around your fingers. You swallow her down, licking her clean, feeling her quiver against your mouth. You kiss your way back up her body, tasting her on your lips. Her eyes are glazed with pleasure, and she's smiling up at you, her cheeks flushed.

"Your turn," she whispers, pushing you onto your back. You watch as she straddles you, her naked body a vision above you. She reaches down and unbuckles your belt, her eyes never leaving yours as she pulls your pants down, freeing your cock. It's hard and throbbing, and she wraps her hand around it, stroking gently.

You groan, your hips lifting off the bed as she teases you, her hand gliding up and down in a torturously slow rhythm. You want to grab her and fuck her hard, but you force yourself to lay still, to let her take control. She lowers her mouth to you, her breath hot against your skin. She kisses the tip, licking the pre-cum from the slit. The sensation is electric, and you have to grit your teeth to keep from coming right then and there.

Wanda smirks, her eyes flicking up to yours as she takes you in her mouth, her tongue swirling around your head. You can feel her eyes on you, watching every reaction, every twitch, and it's driving you wild. She takes you deeper, her hand still stroking, and you feel yourself losing control. You want to hold her there, to feel her mouth on you forever, but you know you can't. You don't want to come like this, not the first time. You need to be inside her, to feel her warmth and tightness.

With a growl, you pull her up and roll her onto her back, your cock pressing against her belly. You lean in and kiss her, tasting yourself on her lips. She wraps her legs around you, pulling you closer, her nails digging into your back. You kiss down her neck, feeling her pulse race beneath your lips. You kiss her chest, her breasts, her stomach, and finally, you're between her legs again.

You line yourself up with her, her heat and wetness beckoning. Pausing, you look at her, trying to decipher if there is any hesitation at what is about to happen. She nods her head, encouraging you to keep going. You push inside, inch by inch, feeling her tighten around you. She gasps, her nails scoring your back as you fill her. You still your hips, giving her a moment to adjust, and then you begin to move, your hips rolling into hers. The feeling is overwhelming, like you're finally home after a long, hard journey. You kiss her again, deep and passionate, feeling her legs lock around you, urging you deeper.

Her walls squeeze around you, and you can feel her getting closer. You reach down and play with her clit, her moans growing louder. "Wanda," you murmur against her neck, "I want to feel you come again." She nods, her breath coming in pants, and you pick up the pace, pushing her closer to the edge.

Her hips are moving with you now, her body begging for release. You can feel it building in her, the tension coiling tighter and tighter. And when it hits, she screams out, her pussy spasming around you. It's all you can take, and you come, your orgasm ripping through you like a supernova, leaving you both trembling and panting.

You collapse on top of her, your hearts beating in sync, the sweat making your skin stick together. You kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. "I'm sorry," you whisper, the words spilling out of you. "I'm sorry for everything."

Wanda's hands come up, cupping your face. "You don't have to be," she says, her voice filled with a tenderness that you never knew existed. "We're here now." And with that, you let yourself sink into her, the fear and doubt of before seemingly a lifetime away.

You pull back, looking into her eyes, searching for any sign of regret. But what you see instead is pure contentment. You roll over, taking her with you, so she's straddling you, your cock still inside her. You wrap your arms around her, holding her close, feeling her breasts press against your chest with each of her breaths.

"Wanda," you whisper, "I didn't know it could feel like this."

Her eyes searched yours, and she nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Neither did I," she admitted, her voice filled with wonder.

You held her there, feeling the aftershocks of your shared passion. The room was silent except for the sound of your mingled breaths and the occasional creak of the house. Wanda leaned down to kiss you, her movements gentle and loving.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice a soft caress against your skin. She pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone, before nestling into the crook of your neck. "For trusting me. For letting go of your fears." her breath tickled the hairs along the side of your throat, causing goosebumps to erupt.

You returned the smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thank you for being patient," you said, your voice just as soft. "For giving me time."

Wanda raised her head to look into your eyes, her gaze filled with understanding. "I'll always give you time, Y/N. Always." Her words were like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your fear. Your eyes closed, and you sucked in a deep breath. "I know it's hard, but I'm not going anywhere. Please don't fight it."

You nodded, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. "I know," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. "I just don't want to ruin this."

Wanda's smile grew, her eyes shining with a love that took your breath away. "You won't," she assured you. "We'll figure it out together. I may have only known you personally through Piet and now for about a year- but you're not a bad person, Y/N." She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear. "You're just complicated. And that's what makes you intriguing."

Her words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, chasing away the chill of doubt. You felt your muscles relax, your grip on her hips loosening. "Complicated," you repeated with a small laugh. "That's one way to put it."

Wanda kissed the corner of your mouth, her smile mischievous. "It keeps things interesting," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "Now, let's make things even more interesting, shall we?" She began to rock her hips, the movement sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You groaned, your cock hardening once again inside her.

Her movements grew bolder, her hips rolling against yours, and you knew you were lost. You grabbed onto her, holding her tight as she rode you, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. She threw her head back, her hair cascading down her back, and the sight of her was almost too much to handle. You watched her, your eyes locked onto her face as she chased her own release, her expression a mix of pleasure and concentration.

You reached up to cup her breasts, feeling their weight in your hands, her nipples peaked and sensitive. You rolled them gently, feeling her moan, her movements becoming more frantic. The sight was intoxicating, and you found yourself getting lost in the moment, the fear of before a distant memory. You sat up, wrapping your arms around her, her legs tightening around your waist as you began to thrust into her.

Her eyes snapped open, locking onto yours, and you felt a connection so strong, it was like you were one being. She leaned in, her teeth grazing your bottom lip, and you knew she was close. You could feel it in the way she tightened around you, in the way her breath hitched. With one last, deep thrust, she came, her body shaking as she cried out. You followed her over the edge, your own release powerful and overwhelming.

You collapsed back onto the bed, her body still straddling yours, both of you gasping for air. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through your veins. Wanda leaned down, her forehead resting against yours, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Wow," she breathed, her voice filled with wonder.

"Yeah," you agreed, the word barely making it past the lump in your throat. "Wow." You didn't know what to say, the enormity of what had just happened left you speechless. But you knew one thing for sure—this was just the beginning. You had taken a leap of faith, and Wanda had caught you. You didn't know what the future held, but for now, you were content to lie there, her warmth surrounding you like a warm embrace.

[birth-stories]

Word count: 1.7k

Decided to write up a little fic for the spooky season, not my best considering it’s been quite awhile since I’ve posted anything.

Story beneath cut

Werewolves were once a thing of old folk tales and children’s story books. At least until recent years, they often blended in with society. They weren’t much different from a human really, beside the whole turning into a wolf and running in the woods each full moon.

Lydia had one as a partner, and quite frankly- he treated her wonderfully.

Little was known about how werewolves bred, people were unsure if they could even breed a human, let alone allow a human to carry to full term.

Though Lydia was always a stubborn woman, often pushing herself past her own limits just to prove people wrong. That included becoming pregnant with a small litter of werewolf pups.

The pregnancy in itself wasn’t easy by any means, crhe rapid growth of the pups had left her house bound in her latter part of her pregnancy. The constant kicking and squirming kept her up all hours of the night.

Joshua, her boyfriend, had doted on her every step of the way. Often offering to do errands, rub her swollen feet, excitedly talking to the pups. It was quite sweet despite all the discomforts that came with pregnancy.

At least up until today that is. She was technically past her due date now, the pups sitting painfully low in her pelvis, making it feel as though they’d just fall right out of her.

To make matters worse, it was another full moon, and it seemed as though tonight was the night the pups decided to arrive.

She had been spending most of the day preparing the basement for the birth, quite frankly she didn’t need her neighbors hearing her cries while she birthed.

Moving up and down the flight of stairs was quite the task, having to stop every few steps to catch her breath and cradle her aching middle.

Even now, completely stripped out of her clothing, hair tied back into a messy bun- she was still holding onto her aching middle.

She couldn’t really move from her current seated position on the towels she had laid out on the floor, a contraction had seized her suddenly. Bringing her down to her current seated position with pitiful little whimpers and whines of pain.

Her waters had broken about an hour earlier, the puddle still present by the base of the stairs.

“Oooh..” She couldn’t help but groan as the contraction peaked, her body felt as though it was in a vice grip.

Despite her trembling legs, she moved to brace herself against the wall with a huff.

She could feel the first baby lowering down into her birth canal, preparing for the birth.

Despite her gravid belly blocking her vision between her legs, she had slowly snaked a hand down to her puffy lips, slipping a few fingers in as she grimaced and pulled in a sharp breath.

While she couldn’t feel the baby’s head just yet, she could tell she was almost fully dilated.

“Gonna be stubborn huh?” She laughed breathlessly as she pulled her hand away, wiping it on a nearby towel.

Deciding to move, she had slowly settled down onto her hands and knees just as the next contraction hit.

Considering it was so close to the last one, it had caught her off guard. A yell stuck in her throat as her eyes squeezed shut.

The urge to bare down had suddenly washed over her too, causing her eyes to widen.

“Oooh..” she couldn’t help but let out another shaky groan, deciding to give a test push.

Fluids trickled down her legs, with no real progress.

She knew since this was her first birth it’d likely take awhile for the first baby to even be born. Joshua had warned her the first ones of litters tended to be the biggest and most difficult to deliver.

As the contraction let up, she tried to steady her breathing- not wanting to panic herself. Though she couldn’t help but curse at the fact that Joshua couldn’t be here.

Deep down, she knew it was safer for him to be out in the woods at the moment, but she hated being alone.

“Looks like we’re in for a long night huh?” She huffed weakly to her bump, running a hand over the swollen stretched out skin as one of the pups kicked eagerly.

“Hopefully you guys won’t be so much of an issue to deliver-“ she huffed, having shifted to sit down, her back pressed against the wall. Legs spread out as she postioned a mirror between them to watch her progress.

As another contraction came over her, she had gave another deep push. Hands tucked behind her knees, trying to pull her legs up and apart, jaw clenched. Face flushed a deep red as she strained with the push.

This had gone on for at least an hour, maybe more. She was starting to lose track of time if she was honest.

Having moved positions once again, she now lay on her side, leg pulled up to her chest. Just a tear drop shape of the first head poking out between her puffy lips.

“Hooo.. hooo.. ooh!” Lydia couldn’t help but yell as the head suddenly surged forward with the next push.

Starting to inch its way into a crown, her lips slowly parting at the massive head.

“Oh come on..” she panted, reaching a trembling hand down to her aching lips, trying to massage them so she wouldn’t tear.

On the next contraction she had decided to hold off on pushing, just trying to breath the rest of the head out.

Watching it inch forward through bleary eyes, she couldn’t help but whimper.

On the next contraction, she had decided to give another small push. Chin tucked into her chest, she grunted as she bore down.

The sudden burst of pain as the head surged into a full crown had her practically howling, her thighs trembling as the head suddenly popped out with a gush of fluids.

The baby was quick to turn, giving her no real time to rest.

Barely managing to catch her breath, she let out a yell as the first shoulder popped free with another rush of pain, followed by the second. With one final push, the very large pup was born.

Chest heaving, she had pulled herself into a semi sitting position as she reached for the crying newborn. Cradling him up to her aching chest with a shaky laugh.

“Your papa was right-“ she grinned, grabbing a towel to drape over the pup as he eagerly nursed from her swollen tit. “You are pretty big-“ she muttered, sinking back against the wall.

A bit grateful to have a brief break in between deliveries. She still had two more pups to deliver.

As the first pup finished nursing, Lydia could feel the pains start back up.

Grimacing, she had set the first born in a pile of soft towels after clamping his cord and cutting it.

Shifting to rest on her hands and knees, she gave a small push.

Since she had already delivered the largest pup, things seemed to be moving much quicker now.

She could feel herself bulge around the head that was resting behind her lips. Reaching a hand down to cradle it.

“Come on baby..” she whined in between pains, giving another push as a silver of the head peaked through her already pained lips, earning another whimper.,

“Hoo.. hooo.. mmh-!” She cried out as the head surged into an unexpected crown, rather quickly.

Stuck on her hands and knees, she gingerly massaged the overtaxed skin with shaky breaths, trying to blow the head out, once more not wanting to risk a tear.

“Ahhh..” she groaned, tears starting to roll down her redden cheeks as the head continued to inch forward before popping out with another gush of fluids.

Head dangling between her legs, she awkwardly moved to lay on her side once again.

Not really having time to pull her leg back to watch, she let out a surprised gasp as the shoulders pushed against her sore opening.

“Impatient like your daddy huh?” She huffed out, giving a push as the first shoulder popped out, quickly followed by the second.

With a grunt and small push, the body had quickly followed. The second smaller pup, a girl laid between her mothers legs with loud cries.

“Ohh.. it’s alright-“ Lydia had shushed her, cradling her to her other swollen breast as the hungry pup immediately latched, drinking with vigor.

Wincing as she leaned back, Lydia managed to get a tiny break once more.

Having done the same with the second pup, she had cut the cord and laid her beside her brother after she finished nursing.

Deciding to stay seated against the wall, she groaned out in pain. The contractions coming back at full force.

“Finally-“ she huffed out, “the last one..” she muttered, gingerly pressing against her deflating bump.

“Oooh..” she grunted, the pain peaking as she tucked her hands behind her knees, pulling her legs up as she tucked her chin to her chest.

Pushing felt as though it was happening in slow motion with the last pup, the smallest of the three moving down so slowly.

“Oh god!” She cried out at the sudden burn between her legs.

“Come on.. come on!” She cried out, feeling the head just stay put in a partial crown.

No matter how much she pushed, it wouldn’t budge.

Realizing she was quickly losing energy, she had somehow managed to pull herself into a standing position, legs slightly bent. Trembling hands cradling the crowning head as she gave her hardest push yet.

She couldn’t keep quiet as the pain reached another intense level as the head had surged into a full crown at a rapid pace due to the gravity.

“Nghh.. come on!” She yelled out as the head popped free with a gush of fluids.

Without even pushing, the shoulders had surged forward and the last baby was quick to fall into her hands.

Letting out a little yelp of surprise, Lydia had moved down to sit on her knees, holding the wailing pup up against her chest.

Letting out a shaky laugh, she guided him to her breast to begin nursing.

It was over, she had somehow successfully delivered three werewolf pups with no complications.

Quite frankly, she couldn’t wait to do it again.

[teratosubmission]

Your father, the King, had been pushing for you to join more diplomatic meetings. You needed the experience, of course, and what better way to get some than to accompany your Royal General to various meetings and discussions?

You dressed your best, of course. A light, silky skirt that barely covered the top of your thighs. Formal upper clothing without sleeves and a bottom cut that exposed your left hip and midriff. Your long flowing blond hair was freshly combed, adorned with a tiny rose sculpted from ruby. You were ready to receive this important dignitary and help lead the talks that would secure further peace between your kingdoms. Though as you had little taste for the initial boring pleasantries that go around every single staff member and noble at the very beginning, you were encouraged to wait a bit before entering the room. As your presence is announced by the door guard, you eye the General and make your way towards him, who was conversing with who you assume was the foreign dignitary… holy shit, he’s attractive? You can hear the general introduce you to him, the Formal Diplomat of the Western Kingdom, but his fanciful words sorta get lost on you as your eyes eat up his features.

God, his rippling muscles, his beautiful coat of fur, he was just… handsome. The neighboring kingdom could have scarcely found someone more attractive. You close in and gently touch his biceps and chest, gazing up at him in awe and lust. Oh god, he towered over you even more in person. Holy fuck. “Are all the wolves in the West as handsome as you?” you coo, biting your lip. You bring your knee up his thigh to subtly gauge his size by feel… oh, god, hes packing. He smirks at your comment, and he flexes for you, letting you feel just how ripped he was under all that fur. Oh my… You wanted him to devour you.

"Ahem, my lord, I know you wish to extend formalities in full,” your general interrupted, “but we have some serious business we need to discuss.” In the corner of your eye, you could spy the general adopting a stone face you’ve become all-too-familiar with when he gets irritated. Maybe he should get laid sometime, too. You’ve offered him some pussy in the past, you knew girls who would love a chance to bed a powerful warrior like himself. But he always droned something about duty and professionalism. What a bore.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” the diplomat replied, enthusiasm dripping in his deep voice. You start murmuring an apology but he cuts you off by tipping your chin up, gazing deep into your eyes with a roaring hunger. You salivate at his gaze, silently begging for his undivided attention. Please please please fuck me.

“I’m sure we could discuss this policy while paying my respects to His Highness.” His powerful hands grip your hips, swinging you around to face the war room table, and sets you firmly against it. You squeal in excitement, thighs trembling, as you spread your legs apart for him. God, you loved diplomacy. “Eager, are you?” he chuckles, pulling up your skirt to cup your cheeks and play with them, as the head of his cock slowly pushes against your quivering hole. You glance back at him with, happy groans escaping your lips as you beg for more. “Mmm… please…”

“Yes, please enjoy our hospitality.” His curt unfun words slice through the air, but its getting dulled by the electrifying current of pleasure sweeping through your clouded mind. “Now, you carry a proposal from the West?”

The diplomat doesn’t even skip a beat in his speech as he rhythmatically pounds into your bussy, his words getting huffy and labored as he struggles to keep his volume above your pathetic moaning with each plap. Your slender hands struggle to hold onto the table, your flowing locks knocking over some wood pieces representing some distant army. It was all distant, really. You couldn’t really hear the conversation anymore, you couldn’t focus on any part of the map on the table, you couldn’t even put two thoughts together about this whole affair. All you could do is let him slam into your hole and moan like a good boy. Let your drool pool out onto the map, let him raise you high enough your feet don’t reach the ground anymore and you’re solely leaning forward and pound you harder. Let your little cock throb and cum between your belly and the table, then just leak again and again as the waves of pleasure overwhelm you. Let him push as deep inside you as he wants and fill you up with his own cum, before pushing you further forward and letting you lay there, legs dangling off the edge with cum dripping out. You were in Euphoria.

“...And what does the prince think of this action?”

Wait… what? How long were you laying there basking in the afterglow? When did the werewolf quit fucking you? How long were they talking? There’s no way they finished their talks and were ready for royal approval. Was he really that good? Fuuuck…. You’d agree to anything just to feel him fuck your brains out again. Maybe you’ll invite him to your chambers immediately after this.

"Uh… yeah…” came your words, slurred and disjointed, as you struggled to lean your head up to gaze at the circled group of men in the room. “Sounds… good…. Someone gimme a… pen…”

One of your knights picked you up with ease, and set your toes down on the floor so you could prop yourself with your hands. You couldn’t bear to sit, anyway, not after what undignified things that foreign dignitary did to your ass… mmm, fuck… where is he? Somewhere behind you? Niice… You poke out your ass absent-mindedly and wiggle it at him teasingly.

“Your highness? The signature.” The curt words of your general snap you out of it, and realize the document had been sitting in front of you for some time. Everyone was watching you expectantly. The general in particular had that impatient look of mild disdain whenever he asked you for your permission. You got the feeling he didn’t like you much.

“Oh… sorry…” With a few strokes of your pen handed to you, the document is signed with the sloppy handwriting of a boy who still was suffering from a good dicking. Not your best handiwork, but it’s a document, not a work of art. You barely finish the last stroke before document and pen are snatched away, and the general shoots a hurried final greeting to the dignitary before exiting the room with his staff.

You can feel the weight of the dignitary press against your back, his hands reach forward on top of yours, and his muzzle presses against your ear. “You made an excellent decision this day,” he whispers, and his tongue suddenly drags up your earlobe to the pointy end. “I was hoping perhaps we could discuss more… private matters in your chambers? For the good of our kingdoms, of course.”

As you were being bridal carried by him all the back back to your bed, you kept thinking about just how much you were making your father proud. Just wait till he hears how important you were to governing favorable terms with the Western Kingdom. Or how well you're cultivating new relationships with them.

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

Part 2 of the one shot.

Warning. Smut!

Yandere Norman Nordstrom x Younger Female Reader

Kidnapping and obsessive love.

Romance. Women loves romance. Norm smiled at the thought of you blushing and giggling. Maybe if he goes to the store and gets some fresh red roses. He doesn't use candles since he doesn't really care about perfume scented air much. So, he should get some too at the arts and crafts store.

Watermelon or strawberry scented candles. Both would be nice. Nodding in determination, Norm sat inside his Lamborghini and then suddenly an emergency alert came from his cell phone. Out of fear, it showed you running away from the mansion as you destroyed the bathroom window. All his windows were bullet proof except the window in the bathrooms because sometimes his security dogs would jump over them to come inside the mansion.

You slick cunning cock!

Gritting his straight teeth in anger, Norm drove as fast as he could while watching his cellphone screen. You were running across his large front garden so you can reach his neighbor's mansion.

He can make it. He then realized how dark it was and that the full moon gave him advantage to spot you from the distance.

Ungrateful bitch. He didn't rape you or hit you minus the times you attacked him. Like biting his tongue when he was trying to French kiss you. Or when you kneed him in the balls. Ouch. That Fuckin' hurt. It didn't hurt as much as the pain inside his chest. You broke his heart again.

You collapsed on your knees from all the running. Tch. Pathetic Norm thought. You were so damn spoiled and weak that you never exercised unlike him. You were not averagely healthy or athletic. He doesn't need his car. Norm turned off his car and jumped out and ran at full speed.

"Huh?" You looked over your delicate and frail shoulder to see your kidnapper! How did he find out?

You tried to get up but he tackled your lithe and supple body hard against the grass floor hard. You tried to scream but suddenly, he slapped you!

You yelped in pain and then stared up to see his handsome face looking at you in anger.

You clutched your face despite making the pain worse. You froze your resistance and then silently sobbed. You didn't want to make him more mad by crying loud so you tried to hide your hiccups but it was no use

Norm's beautiful blue eyes widened in shock. He stared at the back of his hand in disbelief. He hit a woman and not only that. The woman he loved.

He watched in pity as you slumped and didn't fight back as you cradled your injured cheek. If he wasn't sure ashamed of his harshness he would have thought of you trying to be quiet from crying oddly cute.

But, now he felt regret. Without a word, he slung you over his muscular shoulder like a sack of potatoes and you didn't kick or wiggled like the previous times you ran away but was captured.

You gave up.

And he knew.

He didn't mean to break your spirit. But, you were so scared to give him a chance. That was all he wanted.

He went to the entrance of his mansion greenhouse at the center of his front yard garden. He kicked the door open and slammed you down on the floor to sit on your ass. You hissed in pain.

You looked up to see his powerful figure fuming and looking down on you. "Why?" He hissed through his teeth. "I gave you all my love yet you reject me. Why do you resist me? I'd die for you."

Your lips trembled in fear. Norm wasn't having it. He clenched his jaw.

"Why!?" He roared.

You flinched. "I..." You hiccuped and felt tears down your beautiful sculpted cheekbones. "I can't love someone I fear."

You saw that your words hurt him. A Navy Seal was wounded by a weak and spoiled lady like yourself. How strange.

"You don't get it, do you?" Norm's voice cracked as he looked away for a second and then you saw his saddened expression. Your heart burned at the sight.

"I love you, Dammit!" He punched the glass wall of the greenhouse. You yelped. You saw the glass shatter and his fist bloodied. "My life was better before I realized you exist. You ruined my life!"

You sniffed. "I am sorry, Norm." You looked at the ground.

Norm sighed in exhaustion. He then crouched down on one knee to your level and grabbed your chin gently despite smearing your chin with his blood from his injured fist.

You blinked in curiosity. He smiled a little as he unbuttoned his shirt. You couldn't help but stare. His top body was carved like Roman sculptors of Ancient Greek Gods. Ares especially. The God of war.

Holy shit.

You ogled. Norm liked that look on you. He knew you were getting horny. But his body was not all he had to offer you.

There across his chest was bold calligraphy letters of your name. How long was it there?

He did all this for you? He was serious about you.

He grabbed your hand gently and placed it over his heart.

It was dominant and strong like his body and personality.

"I can't control the pace of my heart whenever I think of you. Pity me at least." He pleaded you with large puppy blue eyes.

You felt your womanhood wetten and your throat dry. Is this love?

Norm was waiting for your response. To his surprise and pleasure you leaned your beautiful face close to his pink dry lips.

"Same." You whispered.

Norm couldn't believe his ears. This was a dream come true. You kissed him. Holy shit.

Without a second, Norm kissed back with fever and he grabbed your head and lashed his tongue inside your mouth.

"You're mine now." He ripped your nightgown off. Surrounded by plants in the open air being watched by the full moon was a fairy tale where you lost your first time.

After done, Norm carried you bridal style to the bedroom he shared with you and while you were spent, he drove to the emergency room for stitches.

[bnnywngs]

Wei Wuxian is a good child. It's what every adult around him says, at least. If you ask for what he thinks, he'll say he's just doing his best to not be a burden.

At 13 years old, it's the first time he's been truly alone in his family house. His parents are always traveling somewhere, they used to bring him with them when he was little and didn't need to go to school, and Wei Wuxian still remembers those days with bitter fondness, but after he started school his guardian for a while was his grandma.

But now she's gone and his parents did not ask him if it was ok before they took off overseas once again. Although, his father did look a bit guilty.

"You're old enough, now, and you can cook, so it's fine for us." his mother said.

"If the school needs a guardian to sign a paper, our lawyer can do it, you just have to call him." his father forced a smile "Although he's going to visit you once a week. And we asked the neighbors to help, too."

"Oh! And your uncle Fengmian is going to look after you, too, ok?" his mother had no problems with smiling "We're going to do our best to come back more often."

"And you can always call us, ok?" his father looked at his wife's smile and suddenly his expression softened and his smile turned more real.

Wei Wuxian felt sick, but didn't say anything.

If they didn't want to stay, he wouldn't make them.

So, he tried his very best to live his life without complaining and with little to no tears. He smiled, laughed and joked around, trying to convince himself he was ok. That he was happy.

But sometimes, it was always too much for him and he felt negative emotions he tried with all his might to smother inside a deep box and kick to the back of his mind.

"Jealous." he said out loud "I feel jealous."

"What? Of who?" Jiang Cheng looked at him weirdly, as if doubting his words and thought he was crazy.

They were alone in the other boy's room playing video games before dinner, during one weekend Wei Wuxian was forced invited to stay over.

"You." Wei Wuxian shrugged, making his character die in the game.

"...Why?" Jiang Cheng's right eyebrow was almost kissing his hairline.

"Your parents are here." he hugged his knees, trying really hard to not cry "They fight a lot, but they love you and are here." sniffing, his voice trembled as he confessed his deepest feelings "I'm lonely."

Jiang Cheng looked down at his hands still holding the controller, biting his lip. He thought about what he should do, and ended up scooting over and throwing an arm around his friend's trembling shoulders.

"It's ok." he said, feeling awkward.

"I hate them." Wei Wuxian whispered against his knees.

Jiang Cheng felt his heart freeze for a moment "Sometimes..." he started "Sometimes I hate mine, too..."

Wei Wuxian cried silently for a while and Jiang Cheng kept half hugging him until he lifted his head and they both laughed at their red eyes and wet cheeks.

They didn't talk about it again until they were already in highschool and Wei Wuxian decided he wouldn't update his parents about his life anymore, and not be the first to call. Jiang Cheng kept supporting him silently and they started planning their future away from their parents.

When Wei Wuxian came out and started dating Lan Wangji, he didn't tell his parents directly, but his father liked his social media post. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and called them gross, but didn't tell any adults that the boys were sleeping together at that lonely house.

They were accepted in different universities. Wei Wuxian decided to go overseas by himself, while both Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng were accepted at the same university in a bigger city.

"I will wait for Wei Ying." Lan Wangji said, a few days before moving.

"You know..." Wei Wuxian snickered "There's this thing called vacation, I don't know if you heard..."

Lan Wangji huffed, amused.

"And my lawyer said I can come back every summer for vacation. But Lan Zhan could go visit me too, right? Lan-er-gege is richer than this lonely man." he chuckled, hugging his boyfriend.

"...Fine." Lan Wangji silently sighed "I can visit Wei Ying during winter break and Wei Ying can visit me during summer."

"Perfect!"

When they were hugging each other in the airport saying their farewell to Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng clung to him hard and long, eyes closing forcedly.

"Are you still lonely?" he asked in a low voice.

"No." Wei Wuxian smiled, squeezing him back "A little."

"Still hate them?"

"A little. Yes."

They parted with wobbly smiles.

"It's ok." Jiang Cheng said.

"It's ok." Wei Wuxian nodded "I'll be back soon."

"You better!"

[bell4lan]

"wanna join?"

Genre: Smut + fluff

DNI: NON-MLM/NBLM, fujoshis, mlm/nblm fetishizers, trans fetishizers, everyone on my DNI list

CW: Threesome, getting walked in on during sex, double penetration in one hole, feminine words used for Kaveh's privates, oral sex (Kaveh and Alhaitham receiving), protected and unprotected sex (Alhaitham uses a condom reader doesn't), creampie, squirting, PLOT TWIST!!11!!1!1

Character(s)/Reader: Top Alhaitham x Top Male Reader x Bottom Trans Kaveh

"(N-Name) fuck hah~ right there!" Kaveh moaned, yelling out your name so loud the neighbors could hear how good you were making him feel. He clawed at your back as you pounded his sensitive pussy, legs trembling as you hit that special place inside him.

"Fuck Kaveh, how are you always so- hah~ tight?" You asked as he clenched his hole around you, making an even tighter fit. Kaveh only babbled as pleasure took over his brain, rendering that pretty mouth of his useless as all he did was moan.

You both were so loud you didn't notice Alhaitham walk in on you two, watching from the door with a blank face. He positioned the book he had in his hand over his crotch so the erection he had could be hidden. He coughed to make himself know, making you snap your head in the direction of the door.

"Please be quiet. I can't focus on reading over your obnoxious noises." He said, face slightly pink from seeing your cock inside his roommate who looked thoroughly fucked out despite not being finished.

You noticed the blush and glanced down at the book he was holding, noticing the erection he failed to hide.

"Doesn't seem like that's why you can't focus," you chuckled, seeing his face turn more pink. "wanna join?" You asked. Alhaitham's jaw dropped slightly and his eyes widened. Join?

"(Name)?" Kaveh called out as he zoned back in.

"Is it okay if Alhaitham joins darling?" You asked, brushing hair out of your boyfriend's face as you held him. You knew he found Alhaitham attractive, which didn't bother you since Alhaitham was no match for you. Plus, you thought Alhaitham was pretty cute. The blond nodded shyly, keeping his eyes on you.

Kaveh consenting shocked the grey haired man even more. He stood still for a moment, thinking carefully about what he should do. 'Fuck it.' he thought as he dropped his book and took off his clothes, giving in to his sexual urges.

Kaveh whined as you pulled out and helped him onto his hands and knees. Alhaitham was at the side of the bed now, his semi-hard cock in front of Kaveh's face.

"Go on baby, make him hard." You instructed as you kissed your boyfriend's cheek, trailing kisses down his back. Kaveh felt a little embarrassed being so exposed and submissive in front of his roommate whom he always argued with. Regardless, he followed your instructions and licked his cock from the base to the tip and sucked on it softly.

As Kaveh was busy making Alhaitham hard, your kisses trailed down to his dripping pussy. You spread his ass and started licking up his arousal, smirking as he twitched and moaned around Alhaithams tip.

Kaveh whined around Alhaitham's now fully hard cock as you ate his pussy, legs weak from your tongue. He was already close to coming from your earlier activies, but he didn't what to cum on your tongue. No, he wanted dick, he wanted your cock to fill him up again and pound his tight hole.

Eventually, he couldn't handle not being stuffed, so he pulled off Alhaitham's cock and looked back at you as you continued lapping at his folds. "(Name), pl-please I-I need your dick- ngh~. I-" His pleas were cut off by a kiss from you, your tongue roaming his mouth making him taste himself. You then pulled away and cupped his cheek.

"Wanna be filled Kaveh? Need some cock? How would you feel about two, hm?" You teased, running your thumb across his swollen lips. He looked between you and Alhaitham and swallowed hard.

"Will you both fit?" He asked you quietly, wanting to hear your opinion rather than Alhaitham's since you knew more about his body.

"It could work. We'd need to stretch you so it won't hurt as much, but you're already pretty stretched from my dick so it won't take long." You whispered, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. This decision was all up to Kaveh since he would be the one taking two cocks, so you both gave him all the time he needed to think it over.

However, it wasn't long before you were pushing your cock back into Kaveh. He sighed, a bit relieved that he finally had a dick inside him. You showed Alhaitham how to carefully put his finger in while your cock was inside, thrusting slowly and carefully so Kaveh didn't feel too much pain from the stretch.

"Just like that Haitham, good. You okay baby?" You asked softly, looking over at Kaveh's face. He nodded, swollen pink lips parted as cute moans left them.

The careful stretching of Kaveh's hole continued for a while, but it was finally stretched just enough. Your hips stilled as Alhaitham put on a condom and lined his tip up to Kaveh's prepped hole.

"Be careful Haitham." You whispered in his ear as he started pushing in slowly. Kaveh groaned from just the tip, making Alhaitham stop.

"Are you okay Kaveh?" He asked, concerned about his roommate.

"Y-Yes just keep going slowly." The blond instructed. Alhaitham did as he was told, and pushed his entire cock in very very slowly. Kaveh let out the loudest whine as Alhaitham fully entered, his arms trembling as they struggled to keep his upper body up. Neither you nor Alhaitham moved so Kaveh could adjust to two cocks in him.

"You both are doing so good." You whispered as you rubbed Kaveh's hip comfortingly. You turned to Alhaitham and saw his flushed cheeks and parted lips, looking so kissable. Turning his head, you pressed your lips against his, humming as he kissed back sloppily. Kaveh glanced back and whimpered softly as he saw you and Alhaitham make out, getting wetter from the sight.

"I-I'm ready." Kaveh whined, desperately wanting to get pounded. You broke the kiss and nodded at Alhaitham, signaling him to thrust his hips. The both of you tried your best to thrust at the same time so you all would feel good, but Kaveh was too tight for it to work smoothly. That didn't matter though. Feeling Kaveh's pussy around your cock and Alhaitham's cock rubbing against yours made you shiver and groan, providing you with such mindblowing pleasure. From the noises you heard Alhaitham make, you could tell he was enjoying it too.

And Kaveh...oh Kaveh, he was the loudest he's ever been. Needy whines and moans filled the entire house, letting you both know just how much he loved being stuffed and ruined by 2 cocks. He tried to keep himself quiet, he really did, but your guy's cocks filled him up so much! His sweet spot was hit repeatedly no matter how deep inside either of you were.

He eventually had to give up trying to support his upper body and laid his top half down. Tears streamed down his face as he got overwhelmed from how much pleasure he was feeling, the pillow he laid on was soaked from his tears.

"A-Are you okay Kaveh?" Alhaitham asked as he slowed down his thrusts. You could see the worry on his face, it was adorable. Kaveh could only respond with a quick nod and a whine, signaling that he wanted him to speed up again. Alhaitham seemed to be unsure and looked over at you.

"It's- hah, okay Haitham. Kaveh cries when he feels really good." You quickly explained, trying to sound as clear as possible as you kept up with your thrusts. Alhaitham nodded in understanding and went back to his normal speed, trying to ignore the fuzzy feeling in his chest knowing that he was making Kaveh feel good.

Kaveh babbled something as you both kept pounding his pussy. Alhaitham didn't understand, but you did. He was going to cum, hard. You could tell Alhaitham was getting closer to release too, making you feel relieved. You had been holding back on coming for 30 minutes because you wanted to keep making Kaveh and Alhaitham feel good, but it was getting harder and harder to keep in with each thrust.

Finally, Kaveh let out a very loud and high pitched moan, squirting all over the bed as his cunt tightened around you both. That was all it took to get Alhaitham to pull out and cum into his condom. You thrusted a few more times after Alhaitham pulled out and then pulled Kaveh's hips all the way back so your dick would be deep inside him as you came. Your dick twitched and spurted hot cum into Kaveh, making the blond whimper.

You pulled out carefully, and sat down on the bed. You and Alhaitham watched as pearls of cum dripped out of Kaveh's puffy and used cunt. You glanced over at Alhaitham and chuckled at how mesmerized he looked watching it. You gave him a kiss on the cheek before getting up and moving towards Kaveh, sitting next to him and he lied on his stomach.

"Hey baby, are you okay? Do you need anything?" You whispered softly as you rubbed his back. Kaveh was still trying to gather himself as you spoke to him, so all he did was move closer to you rest a hand on your thigh. You knew this meant he wanted to cuddle, so that's what you did.

As you held Kaveh in one arm, you motioned Alhaitham to come over with the other. He went to the side that wasn't occupied and rested against you, still needing some time to recover from his orgasm.

A few hours later, you all were recovered and cleaning up. Alhaitham was in the shower as you and Kaveh got dressed.

"Hey Kaveh?" You asked as he pulled on his shirt.

"Yes?"

"Do you like Alhaitham?" You asked. Your voice was neutral, so Kaveh couldn't tell if you were upset with him or not.

"Wh-what? Of course not I-I only have feelings for you! If this is about him joining in it wasn't even my idea-" You cut Kaveh off with a soft kiss to the lips, your arms moving to his waist.

"Oh honey you're so bad at lying. I'm not mad at you at all. I only asked cause i've realized that I do, and wanted to see if you would be okay with asking him to join our relationship." You explained. Kaveh looked up at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

"Well...I wouldn't mind that, but what if he doesn't want it and we make him uncomfortable?" He asked, arms now around you.

"Kaveh, have you seen the way he looks at us? He practically had hearts in his eyes the whole time we were doing it." You laughed.

"What? No way, you're lying." Kaveh said, but you had no time to defend yourself. Alhaitham entered the room, now completely clothed. He was noticeably more casual around you two, and asked what you were talking about. You glanced at Kaveh and he gave a small nod.

"Um, actually we were talking about you." You confessed. Alhaitham raised a brow and gave you both his full attention.

"I'll get straight to the point. We both have feelings for you and were wondering if you wanted to try joining our relationship. Of course you don't have to fully commit right away. We could all go on dates to see if you like it. We'd appreciate it if you considered." You explained. Absolute silence followed after. Alhaitham stared at you two blankly, but you could tell he was thinking. Kaveh was fidgeting nervously at your side, so you held his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"...okay. I wouldn't mind a date or two." Alhaitham finally replied. Kaveh looked surprised and you just smiled.

"Please tell us if you ever feel uncomfortable during these dates, you can stop them any time you want." Kaveh said, receiving a nod from Alhaitham in return.

You all got to discussing how dates would work, and how the relationship would work if Alhaitham decided to fully join. Both you and Kaveh were very excited about going on a date with Alhaitham. Despite thinking Alhaitham was no match for you earlier, you were glad that you and Kaveh decided to invite him into your relationship.

Now you had two cute boyfriends to love.

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

POLYAMORY PLOT TWIST. Mwahahahha

I was originally not going to make this polyamorous, but it was too perfect. The situation needed to end in polyamory it was calling to me.

I hope you guys enjoy this story! Please ignore any minor plot errors, this was originally supposed to be smut only ^^;.

Also shout out to the person who begged me to make this! I appreciate you :P