#on the other hand it's objectively ridiculous | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iceonneo · 3 months ago

Text

f/ck ban ; l.hc

haechan x fem! reader summary : putting your boyfriend on a f/ck ban, but he can't take it anymore. warnings : [ smut ] swear words, fingering, nipple play, kisses.

❦₊࿐

y/n : so i was thinking..

hyuck : miss maam what are you thinking of this time

y/n : what if i put us on a sex ban😁 you specifically haech i swear to god i cant feel my legs half the time

hyuck : 🫨🫨🫨 wow i take that back u rlly need to stop thinking sometimes where is this even coming from??

y/n : coming from my vagina that hasnt breathed at ALL

hyuck : right that same pussy thats wet for me every night. i wonder what happens to the breathing then😅

y/n : ur not making sense rn

hyuck : wow my girlfriend hates me should i just go kms rn or what😂😂 pls tell me this is a joke🤥

y/n : 😐hyuck pls im serious

hyuck : oh yeah? alright i see how it is. lets see who lasts the longestbecause i can alr see you on your knees for me and im not even hard

y/n : ?? lol okayyyy

❦₊࿐

"this is ridiculous!"

your fingers slid around the transparent vessel lifting it into the air. "nope, babe, it's for your own good."

"i don't think this hard ass untouched floating dick is of any fucking good." haechan huffed. he stood on the other side of the counter watching his girlfriend gulp down a glass of water with his hands on his hips.

currently, this was day 03 of the ban and lee haechan was on the verge of pulling his hair out and going full out insane.

you gulp the water down eyeing him for a few seconds before your gaze dropped to the bulge in his pants. a small smile cracked on your features as you snorted lightly.

the way he stood with his hands on his hips and a arrogant frustrated expression on his face with his nose flaring like some roadside auntie. a rather loud laugh escaped your lips this time, "what happened to me being the first to dip? hyuck, you're too cute."

"you say that one more time im going to come right here." he eyed you as you made your way towards him.

you reached him, quickly placing one of your palms on the side of his face. haechan sighed melting into your touch. he closed his eyes letting the weight of his head nestle into your hands.

you let your other arm drop down and roam. the surface of your knuckles brushed against his clothed boner making the boy suck in a deep breath. you watched his face. the way his eyes and brows contracted as you let your thumb brush against his balls, a little too harshly this time.

a small smile played on your lips. "baby, you said you weren't even gonna be hard."

"i swear to god please fist me right now." he said through slightly gritted teeth as he thrusted his groin towards your palm. desperate, needy, horny, sex blinded.

letting your fingers brush against his length once more you swiftly grabbed his right wrist instead.

haechan opened his eyes, a confused expression painted over his features. you lifted his hand that you were holding up. "use this."

❦₊࿐

the movie playing on the tv was where your attention was at, despite the boy snuggled beside and his hands thrown all over your body.

your focus on the screen disappearing slowly as haechan rubbed circles into your belly.

now was when realization hit how close the guy had gotten. from sitting adjacent to you over the single seat, sulking, to directly spawning beside you out of nowhere.

too lazy to even object, you just let him do as he wished.

"baby" he murmured into your ears. his voice sultry and velvety, tickling your ear lobes.

"hm?"

the boy sat up staring straight into your eyes, "im seriously not kidding. this shit is starting to hurt now." you sighed.

"it's hardly been two day-" "three." he corrected.

haechan pinched his brows fake exaggerating, "almost 72 hours without pussy oh theres no difference between me and a stranded fish on a desert right now ."

"what?" you chuckled into your palms, leaning against him ignoring his protests. your hair tickling his face but he didn't care, burying his head further into your nape.

"babe pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee" he whined into your ears, swing an arm around your ribs bringing you closer onto him as the other hand sneakily entered your sweatpants.

"haech, im too ti-"

words stumbled into each other and fell into a bottomless pit within you as you felt his middle finger dive into your core.

instead of a nag came out a moan as he joined his index finger along.

haechan left a trail of kisses on your neck as you leaned against him.

oh, fuck this damn ban.

your back was pressed against his chest, hardly any distance remaining. the two of his fingers rubbed against your cunt- not fast, but slow. slow and powerfully.

"mmh"

and your top was gone in no time.

"told ya." haechan smirked, his other arm advancing towards your bra as he didnt bother unhooking. he grabbed the fabric from the between pulling it down as your boobs popped out. before you know it, his fingers were over the nipples. kneading the flesh slowly, occasionally pinching the bud.

filthy: is a suitable word to describe the view.

practically sitting on only one of his thighs with his hands under your pants. your head dipped behind onto his shoulders. bra awkwardly hanging below the bouncing boobs that perked and shaked with every single sensation.

your moans were breaking with the fast friction against your clitoris and oh they were worthy enough to have the neighbors complaining. "uh- ummyeah yeah, yeah just like tha- oh fuck. ah- ah, baby you're too goodddo- oh!"

"you like this baby?" he smirked. "what was all about the ban now?" his fingers practically abused your shining bud, kneading it down with his fingers. "thats right, this pussy of yours is mine, just mine. im never gonna make you think of that shit ever again."

and there it was, that familiar feeling you yearned to feel. the knot that had formed in your abdomen was begging to snap.

"fuck, hy- uck, faster, baby please."

three fingers in.

at this point, you had lost control of your body. laying almost lifelessly against your boyfriend who fucked you stupid.

his warm hand groping your tit while his fingers toying with your nipple. on the other hand, well literally, the other hand was busy gliding across your perfectly wet and swollen folds. his fingers slowly tracing lower and lower until they met the entrance of your hole.

with a quick kiss on your neck, he inserted his fingers in as you gasped. he pulled them out quickly enough, not even letting you savor the feeling of it. your eyes turned wide, glancing back at him. a whiney call of his name rolled of your tongue.

he smirked lightly before turning you around. swiftly tossing your body against the couch as he climbed on top. both of his arms against your head and that arrogant smirk of his still visible on his face.

"what?" you chuckled, slightly amused by how he wouldn't stop making that face.

"what about the fuck ban?" he questioned.

you raised your brows, "hyuck, seriously?"

the boy retracted his arms and sat up on your groin. his arms folded against his chest while he gazed you down. the visible clothed boner of his was sitting above your hole and you bit your cheeks from inside refusing to let any sign of pleasure show.

"i mean," he made a thinking face, "you sounded pretty serious about it."

"oh yeah?" you snickered while he only nodded. propping yourself against your elbows you sighed.

"well, i guess you're right then." dragging one of your arms from over to your chest down to where the bra hanged, you gripped it, in an attempt to wear it back before the grip on your wrist stopped you.

"I'm kidding." haechan said, locking his gaze on yours noticing your raised brows. "you know i am."

a glint of the slightest ire flicking in your orbs and without a wait, his lips were on yours.

his weight completely dropped upon you. his pressed body against yours pushed out a moan from within. letting your fingers glide down from his nape to his scalp, feeling the heat of his mouth against yours and you couldn't wish to be anywhere else. every detail slowly etched in your mind as you counted down to when his tongue would swipe at your mouth, when his hands would meet your waist and when his sighs would start erupting. you knew him too good.

"ba- hby." he pulled out, drowsy eyes locked on yours. "you know, right?"

you pulled your fingers out of his locks that were now messy, locking them against his neck instead. "hm?"

"sex or no sex, i want you nevertheless. a few nights without feeling your pussy wouldn't mend my love for you, in any way. ever."

"yes sir." a smile spread against your lips as you held in a laugh. he looked way too cute right now.

"but right now, I've been watching you skip around this damn house half naked almost for the entire day." his gaze hardened before dropping down on the floor.

"like that-" he pointed with his eyes to where your short tank top lay, thrown away. "thats literally like 2 threads and the crappiest piece of fabric glued together and it covers nothing- fuck!"

at this point you couldn't hold it in inside as your boisterous laugh bubbled and erupted out of you, echoing almost. "hy- hyuck you're so-" and you were laughing again.

the boy only deadpanned at you from on top as your body vibrated beneath him from the laughter. "Im serious. my dick has been solid rock since the morning."

"be honest you were doing this on purpose, weren't you?" haechan asked with a brow raised and arms folded against his chest. he got off you, sitting on the couch staring at you who was wiping away the tears from laughter that threatened to spill. his mouth was quirked to a small cute smile right before his gaze dropped down to your boobs and the wet patch on your sweats. the tug in his dick almost sent him to mars.

you pulled your fingers against your cheeks, pretending to think. "hmmmm... no."

"no?" he chuckled.

"nope." you whispered.

haechan slid his hands under your thighs pulling you over his lap, straddling him.

"liar."

let's just say the night was long, the neighbors might or might not have knocked on your doors the next morning and oh, also, fuck this damn ban.

an original iceonneo work.

divider creds : sxmmerberries

#nct #nct dream #haechan #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #smut #nct dream smut

1K notes · View notes

mariasont · 7 months ago

Text

My Assistant - A.H

a/n: im a little addicted to bimbo reader rn if you can't tell lmao

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you can't reach a book so hotch helps you out

warnings: none? fluff, reader climbing a fucking book shelf and for what

wc: 0.8k

"Oh, biscuits!"

It was a ridiculous thing to say, but frankly you didn't care. You were on your tiptoes, chest flush against a bookshelf. Spencer had asked for a book for the case they were working, and naturally, it was nestled on the top shelf.

Balancing precariously on your stilettos, you stretched as tall as you possibly could, your fingers skimming the spine that was an inch too far away.

You shifted your weight back onto your heels, planting your hands firmly on your hips as you considered the stubborn object just out of reach. Sure, Spencer would grab the book without hesitation if asked, and he'd do so with a smile, but you really liked feeling useful.

For over a year, you've been the one at Mr. Hotchner's beck and call--fetching coffee, filing papers, and attending to, basically, his every need (not the one you wanted though). To others, it might seem trivial, but you really liked it. Well, you really liked him.

At first, you were intimidated--how could you not? He had a reputation. You heard the stories--a man who never smiled, his ever-serious nature, and Penelope's not so family friendly description of his sternness was enough to unsettle anyone.

But you considered his reputed severity to just be part of his charm, he was far from the figure others painted him as. He was a good boss, always fair, never once raising his voice at you or demanding too much. In your eyes, he was perfect. You might be biased.

The idea of climbing the shelf was a gamble, especially in these shoes, and it seemed almost certain to end with a less-than-elegant fall. Still, you couldn't resist the challenge and hoisted yourself up anyway, the shelf wobbling perilously as you did so.

You pressed on, climbing higher, the wood's groans of protest falling on deaf ears. If this was how you were going down, so be it.

"Almost there," you muttered to yourself, straining every muscle in your arm, you were sure.

And just as you almost had the book, your balance faltered and then found new footing, the sensation of falling dissipating. In its place, you found your ass delicately perched, nearly seated on someone's broad shoulder.

You honestly didn't even need to look to know who it was--embarrassingly enough--you had basically memorized the feeling of Hotch's hands. Though they had never been wrapped around your legs like they were now. His grip was warm and strong, sparking a wave of electricity that rippled through your whole body.

"Got it!" you cried out, your victory fist pump nearly launching you from Hotch's shoulder. But his hold on your thighs clamped tighter, securing you in place. "Thanks, sir."

You angled your head downward, locking gazes with Hotch--his eyes a rich blend of ember and molten chocolate that you really liked looking at.

His eyebrows were arched in a silent question on his well-defined face as if he really couldn't believe what you were doing.

"Careful," Hotch murmured, his hands lowering you to the ground. There was a fleeting brush against your ass, surely accidental, yet it sparked a flurry of butterflies swirling in the pit of your stomach. "In the future, just ask. I wouldn't want you hurt over something as trivial as a book."

"Oh, don't you worry about me, sir. I'm like, practically a pro at rock climbing when I'm not here." you said, letting out a bubbly giggle.

He regarded you with a look that was equal parts amusement and disbelief, clearly not convinced.

"Okay, not really, but wouldn't that be cool?"

"Well, rock climber or not, let's keep those feet on the ground, please," Hotch remarked, the slightest quirk of his mouth suggesting a suppressed smile. "It's less of a fall from there."

"Sure thing, sir!" you beamed, popping off a silly salute, noting his struggle not to roll his eyes. "But I did get the book, so it all worked out in the end, right?"

With a gentle nudge on your lower back, Hotch directed you towards the conference room.

"Yes, it did, but for future reference, Spencer's height makes him more capable of reaching those books himself."

You couldn't help the blush that colored your face, and you managed a flustered smile.

"Well, I mean, it is what I get paid to do, sir."

"No, you get paid to do my bidding, not Spencer's," he teases, giving a gentle squeeze to your side.

Your laughter rang out, a bit too high, a bit too bright, as his touch sent a delightful vertigo spiraling through you.

"Well, yeah, okay, that's fair. But it's been pretty light on the to-do list from you today."

"And you're complaining about that?"

With the conference room in sight, you pretended to lock your lips and throw away the key.

A rare laugh rumbled through his chest, and you felt your knees buckle, you were sure you could have melted into a puddle right there and then. It was such a beautiful sound, and you desperately wanted to become familiar with it.

Spencer emerged from the conference room, his eyes landing on the book in your hands. "Is that The Selfish Gene?"

Hotch took the book from you, handing it to Spencer with a firm look. "Reid, I'd appreciate it if you didn't recruit my assistant for your library runs."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo reader #aaron hotchner x assistant reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotchner #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x bau reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #Spotify

1K notes · View notes

entitled-fangirl · 13 days ago

Text

Peculiar. (P3)

Cregan Stark x seer!reader

Summary: A seemingly absurd vision of the reader's comes true. She hopes the North reacts well.

Warnings: talks of trapped marriage, pregnancy, visions, nightmares, miscommunications

Masterlist

Prequel, P1, P2

.....................................................

Cregan woke up as he normally did.

Y/n lay peacefully in their shared bed, the sight of her getting a good night's sleep rare, even more rare now that she was with child. And Cregan would do anything not to disturb it.

He gently sat up, studying the way her nose twitched a bit when he shifted the blankets. With a careful touch, he had managed to get himself from the bed and began to dress. He couldn't dress in everything. That would take too long and risk waking her, so he threw on a tunic and breeches, trying his boots and throwing his cloak over his shoulder to put on once away from earshot.

He tiptoed to the door, opening it and inwardly cringing at the creak it made.

"Cregan?"

He groaned and turned around. His wife laid in bed still, her eyes absolutely dazed with sleep but still set on him. He sighed softly, "Forgive me, sweet girl. I did not mean to wake you."

She ran a hand through what hair was not tangled against her pillow before moving to sit up. It was a difficult task now that she had life growing inside her, but she managed. Her hands rubbed at her eyes to pry the sleep away. "Where are you going?"

"To break fast. Sleep, and I'll have it brought to you later."

She shook her head. "I'll join you," her groggy voice echoed.

"No, lovely. You need your sleep."

"Do you not want me to join you?"

He couldn't take the glossy look in her eyes. "You were sleeping so well. But if you want to join me, I'll never complain."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing you weren't beside me," she said as she moved to the edge of the bed.

Cregan stepped to her side immediately, his instincts kicking in to help her stand. He grabbed one of her biceps, his other hand going around her waist.

"You were muttering, you know," he quietly said. "In your sleep."

She hummed. "Sorry, my love."

He shook his head as he pulled a cloak over her shoulders. "Don't be. It's alright. I just wish to know what you were dreaming of."

It was common that her visions came in the dead of night when all in the castle laid fast asleep.

When she opened her mouth to object, he began again. "I know you try to forget them, but this one sounded important. Please try."

One of his hands caressed at the back of her neck, intertwining his fingers into her hair and gently massaging.

"There was fire," she whispered. There was a dull look in her eyes that clearly said whatever she saw was not pleasant.

"Fire, aye. What else?" He asked, trying carefully to not pressure her.

"A Northern fire will sweep over the house, and rain will sweep over the land of the… the…" She paused. "I can't remember what animal."

He was so close to getting his answer. "C'mon. Think, sweet girl. What animal? Did you see it?"

She nodded. "Antlers and…" She sighed. "I just remember the orange. Surrounded in orange."

Cregan's blood ran cold. "A black moose surrounded in orange?" He asked softly, as if he didn't want the answer.

A curt nod.

"Fuck." He kissed the top of her head. "Let us break fast. Then I fear I have work ahead of me."

…

The men of Cregan's council dared to scoff at the idea.

"There is never rain in the Hornwood. To even suggest such a thing is ridiculous," one of the lords huffed.

Cregan's fist clenched. "Watch your tone. You speak of my wife in your talk of ridiculous suggestions."

"He's right, though." Another pointed out, "Fire and rain? House Hornwood? How are you so sure?"

"She saw it. The house sigil. It's no coincidence."

"I see lots of things in my sleep, my lord," one of them chided.

"Have you seen house sigils in your dreams before you even knew they existed?" Cregan growled. "She knows nothing of House Hornwood."

The men quieted down. "How are you so sure it will happen soon?"

Cregan shrugged. "I'm not."

"I'll send a raven to the Lord, but I doubt he listens."

…

Whispers sounded across Winterfell. A ridiculous dream of the destruction of a noble house. Such gossip.

Cregan, if he even noticed, didn't let it bother him. He was quick to control his anger. He took care of disrespect, but gossip? He didn't take so personally.

His pregnant wife on the other hand?

She became an absolute wreck.

She refused to leave their room without his company. She claimed the stares and gawks haunted her more than the visions. And Cregan saw to it.

He accompanied her to every meal, even pausing his work to take her to walk through Winterfell to ensure her and the child's health.

One of these walks led them through the courtyard where a councilman's wife had grown quite confident. Cregan had turned for only a moment. Dropped her hand for only a moment.

"Makes sense that he just does your bidding. You're a mess otherwise."

Y/n's head shot up. "What?"

"I said," the women repeated. "You're carrying his child, so of course he'll do whatever you want. He can't handle the thought of you doing something drastic."

"That's not…" she tried to defend, but her voice trailed off.

"Admit it, my lady. He's terrified of the drastic measures you take to keep him next to you. Going along and making stories. Makes me sick." She spit at the pregnant woman's feet and walked off.

Y/n was at a loss for words. She felt her heart wrench with guilt and pity and overall, self consciousness.

Maybe there was truth to her words.

Cregan returned not long after. He immediately noted that something was wrong. "Ready to go back indoors?"

"Very much."

…

That night, she woke up in a panic. Cregan's heavy arm was wrapped around her, his hand placed on the side of her swollen stomach. She wanted to get up. To walk. To do anything. But she couldn't disturb him.

With the self consciousness settling in, she decided that she wouldn't bother him with these supposed visions anymore.

No matter how pleasant or horrid.

She rubbed at her stomach until her eyelids grew heavy once again, and she fell back asleep.

Unaware of Cregan's open eyes.

…

The next morning, he decided to politely bring it up as they ate in their chambers.

"Sleep well, then?" He broke the silence.

She took a small bite and nodded. "Pleasant as usual," she muttered.

He tilted his head.

That's all it took.

That's all it took for take back every word. He knew her in and out, and she knew it.

"It was awful. I feel so plagued," she sniffled.

He brushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Tell me," he comforted like he always did.

She shook her head. "I won't."

"Why not?"

Her eyes were haunted. "I'm tired of being the bad news."

A soft noise came from his throat at her confession. "You're not."

"I am."

"You are not," he insisted firmer this time.

"I predict death and destruction every night. Every day. I'm tired of it."

"MY LORD!" A voice interrupted from down the corridor.

Cregan jumped up and ran to the door, knowing his wife didn't wish to see visitors. "What?"

"A letter, my lord. The Hornwoods. The fire," the servant whispered.

His eyes widened and he ripped the letter open.

A fire had started in the castle, but due to Cregan's letter from a few weeks prior, they had moved all important historical documents to a safe location.

And true to the letter, a heavy rain poured over the castle, putting it out after a few hours.

Truly remarkable indeed.

He looked back at his wife. "Tell me of your vision, my love." He reread the letter. "The future lies in your mind."

…

The next day, he had talked her into leaving the chambers.

Upon entering the courtyard, everyone fell silent. No one said a word, and the awkwardness was almost unbearable.

Until finally a man approached them. He got down on his knee. "My Lord and Lady Stark."

Y/n stepped away, but Cregan placed a heavy hand to her lower back, keeping her in her place next to him.

Slowly the people began to chatter, some approaching and speaking to the couple. Praises, and gratitude.

At every chance, Cregan mentioned his wife's attention to her detailed dreams.

How it was because of her.

"May your child be blessed with your gifts," one of them chipped up.

Cregan's lips pulled into a huge grin, pure ecstasy radiating though him. "She's seen our child. In her dreams. A visionary lies in her womb!"

Cheers sounded throughout the courtyard and her self consciousness faded.

For once, she didn't feel ashamed.

After all, how could she when Cregan smiled so brightly?

......................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123, @wangjiangelangel, @kamitargaryen, @aegonswife, @lv7867, @helpmedecideaname, @cherryheairt

A/n: updating my tag list if anyone wants to hop on!

#fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x reader #game of thrones imagine #cregan stark x y/n #game of thrones fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones x y/n #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark fanfic #cregan x reader #house of the dragon fanfic #cregan stark

549 notes · View notes

retrievablememories · 1 year ago

Text

cherry bomb | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.

genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au

word count: 7.1k

warnings: multiple minor character deaths, blood, gore, violence (including gun and knife use), mentions of alcohol consumption. virgin-shaming and slut-shaming, oral (fem receiving), riding, virgin!reader, first-time sex, protected sex, hair-pulling, biting, fingering, dirty talk, virgin kink/corruption kink, fuckboy JK. is JK a sub or a masochist here? answer: i don’t fucking know!

a/n: inspired by the movie cherry falls (2000). heed the warnings. remember that this is fiction, not meant to be entirely realistic, and characters' views/actions don't represent my own. if this kind of content is not up your alley just block me or make use of the wonderful filtering option in your account settings

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 2

CHERRY BOMB

don't wanna die? come out and hook up with a sexy girl or guy.

virgins get in free!

THIS FRIDAY

NOV 3, 20XX

[address here]

"very corny." you shake your head, looking at the party flyer in your hands. you'd just torn it down from the bulletin board in your dorm lobby; unauthorized advertisements aren’t allowed, and your job as RA involves these menial-ass tasks. "this is literally life or death...why are they turning it into a joke?"

"it is a joke," your friend camille says, snatching the flyer out of your hands to look it over. "think about it. 10 students get killed since we came back in august, and the semester isn't even over yet. the school administration and local police haven't done nearly enough to address it or stop any more deaths. and the common denominator is that all these people were suspected or confirmed virgins?” you haven’t seen the evidence yourself, but the daughter of one of the local policemen claimed every victim also had virgin carved into some part of their dead body. “yeah, i'd say it's a joke to pretty much everyone at this point. this is what happens when you let the students come up with a solution."

camille hands the flyer back to you, and you hold it limply. "but...it's not like you can look at someone and tell if they're a virgin. the killer must've known them all personally. it just doesn't make sense."

"some of those people had no mutual friends. nothing connecting them whatsoever. not even shared extracurriculars. it's gotta be a perverted stalker with a fetish, maybe. a scorned hacker who somehow got into their private conversations 'n' shit? or maybe he consulted the cards to know who’d fucked before and who hadn’t.”

“oh please.” you scoff. “now you’re being completely ridiculous. tarot cards aren’t gonna tell you if someone’s a virgin or not.”

“then you come up with a better explanation. either way, these folks—" camille points to the flyer "—aren't taking their chances."

"hm..." you keep staring at the flyer, looking at the shiny-red cherries, condoms, sex toys, and other sex-related objects decorating the paper. whoever designed this really wasn't playing.

"so, are you gonna go?" camille asks with a sidelong glance. "free admittance, after all."

your neck burns under the collar of your shirt. "are you?" neither of you have had sex yet, for differing reasons. camille's reason was almost complete indifference to the whole act.

she gives you a look that says i could give a shit. "...you know the answer to that one, dear. so you're not even thinking about it? as much as you have cried to me and lorelai about not being able to find a man you like enough to give it up for, our killer here probably already knows. you practically have a ‘come kill me’ bullseye on your back.”

"i don't know," you say, because you genuinely are thinking about it. “and stop trying to fucking scare me.” despite your logical brain trying to reason with you, you still feel a sense of underlying terror about being the next victim. "the virgin killer," as they'd nicknamed the freak, clearly prefers a specific type of victim, and all kills have been random and unpredictable other than that—and the fact that every victim attended your university. he also seems partial to using a knife on his victims, but even that isn’t guaranteed—3 of the 10 had been killed in ways other than stabbing. "i don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about this, though."

camille shrugs. "if he comes for me, i'll just spray him with my illegal mace and kick his nuts into his throat. then tie him up and wait for my dad to come blow his head off. there are some advantages to having a gun nut for a dad."

you chuckle at the absurdity of it. "you've got it all planned out, then."

FRIDAY, NOV 3

taking a rideshare to the party was a smart idea on lorelai's part, because the two little shots you took to pre-game already have you feeling woozy. or maybe it's just your nerves.

the cherry bomb is located at a mansion that isn’t really a mansion, but a large once-abandoned house one of the fraternities fixed up years ago for throwing off-campus parties.

the party is stacked wall to wall with people when you enter, though from what you can see, no one has actually started fucking yet—maybe they're saving that for the supposed orgy later in the night. you just hope you can get someone in one of the backrooms before that happens, because you're not really keen on having everyone in your class knowing what your tits look like.

you have one simple mission here tonight—lose your long-held virginity and get off the virgin killer's radar. once that's done, you'll make your exit.

"actually, i'm surprised anyone else showed up. other than you, who wants to willingly admit that they're still a virgin in college?" lorelai shudders. you roll your eyes and try not to feel offended, sucking your teeth.

"you were more than welcome to stay back at the dorm."

"no! i'm here for moral support, plus i don't want to be alone tonight. i don't care who this killer targets, it's getting too crazy out here to just be letting your guard down anymore."

well, you won't argue that.

you and lorelai dance to the song booming over the multiple speakers, scanning the room for potential hookups all the while. you become more alert when you recognize a familiar length of black hair coming through the front door, plus the tattoos and piercings to match.

you're not surprised jungkook came. he has his pick of untouched and easily corruptible virgins here, which has always been his thing; you've heard him brag about it to his seatmates more than once in your shared elective. not to mention the stories you've heard from the women who actually fucked him. as far as you could figure, it was the usual male ego posturing bullshit about being able to say he was someone’s first—and likely best. for that reason, alarm rises when he makes eye contact and starts making a beeline for where you and lorelai are.

"oh, here comes the campus bicycle," lorelai says, voice deadpan.

you continue watching him from the corner of your eye, trying to see if he's just approaching someone in your general vicinity, but no. once he shoves his way through the crowd of dancers, some unashamedly groping at his body as he does, he stops right in front of you two.

"so, are you here for the same reason i am?" he asks you, grinning like the devil himself. "or are you looking to get that sweet little cherry popped?"

the backs of your knees sweat. "um—latter, i guess." you hadn't meant to answer that honestly, but to say you are caught off-guard is understating it. you can count on one hand the number of times you and jungkook have talked to each other in class, and never about anything of this nature.

"you're not gonna ask me?" lorelai says.

jungkook gives a hearty laugh; you didn't think it was that funny. "everyone knows you're not a virgin, why waste my time?"

"wow, okay. fuck you. you're no saint yourself." she huffs.

"anyway…" jungkook returns his attention to you. "have you really never done anything before? not even sucked a dick? there's no way someone hasn't tried to hit that. not even some 'backdoor action only' like those weird religious girls?"

"is that any of your business? i didn't know we had to give a rundown of our lack of sexual experience before getting laid around here." you snap.

jungkook's eyelids lower a fraction. "i'm tryna decide how easy i should go on you, babe. i mean, if you wanna take this in one of the rooms. otherwise, i'll let someone else have a go if you're not interested."

unfortunately, you are interested, despite his overly blunt manner and objectifying language. even though you know you’ll just become another entry on his long list of flings—someone he’ll tell his boys about later—maybe the fear of death is making you impulsive.

but maybe his looks are playing a part in it, too.

he's imposing with his physique and his all-black attire, his shirt so tight that you can clearly see his pectoral muscles and his nipples, his unbuttoned leather jacket doing nothing to hide those details. you can easily imagine yourself running your hands across those pecs, squeezing them, rubbing your fingers against his nipples and making him moan underneath you, feeling and seeing his abs contract through this stupid-ass shirt that must've been painted on. this brief fantasy immediately dampens your panties.

"…i'm interested," you affirm, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, and he smirks from knowing you were obviously checking him out.

knowing the direction this is going in, lorelai taps you on the back and whispers in your ear. “have fun but don’t do anything stupid, yeah? i’m not playing auntie to any offspring you and this dude pop out, sis. use protection.” then she makes her exit to go find herself a partner for the night.

“so, come on.” jungkook nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow him through the crowd as he leads you up the winding staircase. you squeeze past two girls kissing on the staircase railing, their motions a bit unsure as if they’ve never done it before but clearly still enjoying themselves.

jungkook pushes a few doors in until he finds an empty room, and you try not to ogle at the random couples you see along the way. not even an hour in and the two shots must be wearing off, because your body is beginning to buzz with nervousness again.

jungkook closes the door behind him when you both step into the room, which is lit by one lamp on a nightstand and the open window beside the bed. he reaches for you, and you shiver when his hand grasps the side of your face, the other snaking around your waist.

“scared?” he asks, his voice low. you shake your head, and he grins. “relax.” he leans in as if to kiss you and you part your lips, but he doesn’t do that just yet. he traces your top lip and then your bottom lip with his tongue, dipping it into your mouth as he switches. the teasing nature of his actions makes your body heat up as you watch a string of saliva spread and then break between the both of you.

he presses back in for a real kiss this time, his nose bumping yours. despite all your fears about tonight, you’re able to unwind somewhat and just focus on the full sensory experience that is this kiss—the warmth of his hands and his mouth, the sappy sound your lips make when they separate and come back together, the scent of his cologne, the taste of his spearmint-flavored tongue.

you find yourselves inching toward the bed, him walking you backwards while keeping you steady. just as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, there's the sound of a woman's bloodcurdling scream from behind you, and you nearly shove jungkook to the ground in your haste to run to the door. your fingers are scrabbling at the doorknob when you hear a burst of laughter. a guy you don't recognize crawls out from under the bed holding his phone up, displaying a youtube video of the shower scene in the movie psycho, which is where the noise is coming from.

"that was funny as fuck." the guy laughs obnoxiously loud, holding his stomach. “don’t get too carefree or you just might die, girlie.”

jungkook grabs the guy by his jacket collar like he's a kid and throws him out the door; the guy doesn't object because he knows this is preferable to getting his ass beaten by the bigger man. "fuck outta here, you jackass." jungkook snaps.

jungkook stomps over to the closet to yank it open. "any more idiots in here wanna show themselves?" he checks a couple more areas before deciding the room is clear and closing the door again, locking it for good measure.

“okay.” he sighs, stripping off his jacket and shoes. he takes your hand and pulls you toward him as he sits on the bed. “relax, baby. forget about that fucking clown. come ‘ere. why don’t you sit on my lap?”

with a heavy exhale, you try to steady your still-shaking hands as you shuck your boots off and pull your dress up slightly to comfortably sit in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist.

he squeezes your waist. “so, where were we? i don’t really remember…”

you huff out a half-amused laugh. “really? i’m pretty sure it was this…” you lean forward with your hands on his shoulders and press your lips back onto his. jungkook follows in kind, his hands running up from your thighs to your waist and back again. the rhythm of his hands is hypnotic, distracting you as you try to keep most of your focus on the kiss, and you fear you may be getting overstimulated before anything has truly began.

as you continue kissing, jungkook’s hands creep your dress further up your thighs until your panties are revealed. still feeling up your legs, his hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear. they have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk, though it makes you roll your eyes.

jungkook whispers against your lips, “let’s try something. will you sit on my face?” you stare at him without a word, not expecting this to be the first thing he proposes. at your response, or lack of, he adds, “i want to make you feel good. do you want me to taste you?” his voice is so soft, so unassuming and cloying, that it makes you feel like a lamb clutched gently in the mouth of a wolf.

your brain is already surrendering to it. “yes.”

you get another kiss and a smile. jungkook moves you out of his lap, shuffles further up the bed, and lies down so that he’s flat on his back, his head surrounded by the pillows. he gestures for you to follow.

taking your time, you slide your panties off and crawl up the bed until you’re near his face and he’s lying below you looking like he’s struck gold. he grabs your hips to bring you closer until you’re right over his mouth. you’re embarrassed to have someone looking at you from this angle for the first time, and you’re about to get too into your head about it when he french kisses your inner thigh, blanking out your mind.

the only thing you know from then on is that his mouth is burning hot. his tongue is everywhere. he licks at you delicately to test the waters, and then more firmly when your thighs tremble around his head, in an effort to elicit the same response.

the way he fits his mouth over your entire pussy and sucks it with just the right amount of pressure so that it won’t hurt makes you feel faint. the way he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit only to suck it gently at the end of the stroke makes you cry out louder than you intended. you’re glad he moved further up the bed for this, because you’re holding onto the headboard for dear life.

the only things you’re aware of are your own out-of-control moans and the wet sounds of jungkook’s mouth working you over. all of it has you so overwrought that you’re already reaching your peak, your grip on the headboard weakening.

jungkook seems to know this without you telling him anything. he pauses and looks up at you with a fucked-out smirk and a wet mouth. you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for giving you a break. “before you come, fuck my face.”

“wh-what?”

“rub that wet fucking cunt on my face.” heat flares through your body at his frank words. “grab my hair and just ride my face.” he reaches up to take your hands off the headboard and places them in his hair. “you can do it, baby. fucking use me.”

it takes you a minute to get over the fresh wave of embarrassment and find a pace that works, because the connection between your brain and body feels like it’s frying and your coordination is off. jungkook helps guide your hips, especially with how you’re trembling from pleasure and close to falling apart. soon enough, you’re letting go of yourself and moving your hips enthusiastically, if a little clumsily, and chasing your climax. you savor the feel of your clit sliding across his wet tongue and his soft hair in between your fingers, and you push his head as close as it can get.

you come while screaming, dizzyingly immersed in the pleasure. you forget that you’re holding his hair as you yank roughly on it. the only thing that matters to you is that jungkook’s mouth is still sucking your clit through the best physical sensation you’ve ever experienced.

when he finally lets go and gives you reprieve, you collapse beside him on the pillows.

“i’m sorry,” you mumble, disoriented. “about your hair, i mean?”

jungkook laughs. it’s funny how shiny-wet his face is—and that you caused it, which is kind of hard to believe in the aftermath of it. “the pain is what gets my dick hard. don’t worry.”

you chuckle breathlessly at that, and for a few seconds you both have that funny little moment to yourselves in all the ridiculousness of the overarching situation.

then jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. “i’m not done with that pussy yet, though.” he brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. he slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance, until you’re shifting your hips closer to him to implore him for more. he grants your request by sliding his finger all the way inside.

having a finger inside you feels okay at first, though not as good as his actions a few seconds ago. jungkook decides to amplify your pleasure by placing his lips on your neck, leaving gentle and wet kisses behind, and you become all too aware of the feeling of your hardened nipples against the material of your dress. the pleasure begins to heighten when his finger finds a place inside of you that makes you throb, your walls clenching around him.

“ah…” you gasp and shift eagerly against his body as he keeps stimulating that spot, not thrusting his finger into you but simply stroking it across that area in a come here motion.

jungkook pulls away from your neck to smile at his handiwork. “that’s better, right?” he whispers, watching your reactions. your lips form around the word yes, though it’s difficult to try to speak, and you worry how unsteady your voice might sound. he waits until you’re clutching at his arm, leaving red lines on his skin from your fingernails, to carefully push another finger in beside the first. you try to breathe evenly, though his refusal to let up on that spot has your lungs stuttering for air all over again. his nose nudges your ear as he leans even closer and whispers, “there are so many different spots to find, so many different ways to make you come; i wanna go looking for them all.”

jungkook angles his hand so that his palm is also stimulating your clit, his fingers thrusting slowly now. you turn your head away from him as your body becomes ablaze, unsure what to do with yourself as your climax nears quickly.

“would you let me do that? learn your body like no one else has done?” he kisses the shell of your ear, and even that small action is enough to tip you closer to the edge with how your body is already so fired up. “who else could make you feel as good?”

this orgasm makes your eyes fill with involuntary tears, and little clear droplets bleed down the sides of your face and towards your ears as your body convulses. jungkook kisses the wet trails they make on your face, still fingering you steadily and forcing another urgent cry out of you. you feel untethered from yourself, like you’re not in control of your reactions, and you don’t know whether to be afraid of that or not.

jungkook pulls his fingers out when you have mostly calmed down, watching strands of your wetness drip between them before sliding them into his mouth.

after you come the second time, you begin to tire. the deeds have been done, and if you want, you can confidently go back out to the party now and say you’re no longer a virgin; you’re off the unofficial kill list and can live the rest of your days without having to look over your shoulder with every breath.

…but jungkook is hard against your hip, and in all honesty, you don’t want to leave without knowing what his dick looks and feels like.

“you tired?” he asks, and the casual air of it makes your stomach flip, for some reason. he says it as if this is something you two do all the time and he’s used to asking you this after wearing you out during a good session.

but now’s not the time to get delusional.

“no. i want more.”

jungkook smiles broadly, teasing his lip ring with his teeth. he sits up to peel that skin-tight shirt off, and you don’t bother to stop yourself from staring at all that skin in front of you. your eyes drop further down when he removes his belt and undoes his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down enough for you to see his v-line but not taking them off. is that an invitation for you to do it? "you hold the reins here," he says, lying back on the bed again. "do whatever you want to me."

“whatever i want?” you repeat, already sitting up. he nods, hands behind his head, and you take the initiative to straddle him again, knowing you’re getting his jeans wet.

you reach for his pecs first, just like you’d imagined downstairs. the firm muscle of them is mesmerizing; but when you slowly circle your thumb against his nipple and his eyes flutter, a small and breathy moan escaping his lips, you’re sure you enjoy this much more.

you play with his nipples and even work up the boldness to purse your lips around one, sucking it softly, and every noise that arises from him makes your clit tingle.

you eventually move your hands to his abs, enjoying how they flex at your touch. you didn't think his navel would be pierced, not hearing that detail in any of the sex tales you've eavesdropped on about jungkook, and you wonder what else you might find out about him tonight.

“you should do your nipples to match.” you suggest it without much thought as you’re teasing his navel piercing, though you don’t regret saying it.

“would you be into that?” jungkook sounds like he’s actually considering it, watching you from below his lashes.

you grin. you don’t know if you’ll actually end up having sex with him again to see them, but you answer, “i’d love it…it’d be sexy on you.”

sliding your hands further down still, you come to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeking over the top of his lowered jeans. for a second the nervousness returns; jungkook notices how your hands twitch with hesitation. “it’s fine, i’m not gonna bite you…unless you ask me to, though. here.”

he slips a hand into his underwear and grips his dick, though he doesn’t take it out right away; he strokes the shaft a few times, observing your reaction with expectant and hazy eyes. the scene before you makes your mouth dry. jungkook quickens his pace, twisting his hand at the tip and using his own precum as lube, until you are overcome with the desire to see it and you pull his underwear out of the way.

his cock is thick and flushed and glossy with precum. you don’t have much to compare it to, but it’s a good size, and all the previous women have said that he clearly knows what to do with it. he releases it and it slaps against his abs, leaving a streak of precum behind. when you look at him in anticipation of what he’ll do next, he grasps it again and starts stroking himself quickly, like he’s trying to get off. the wet slap of his motions and his quiet groans make your walls clench.

“i could keep fucking myself and you could watch, since you seem to prefer it…” he murmurs.

“no, i—let’s go all the way.”

jungkook smirks and answers your decision by pulling a condom out of his jean pocket. you watch as he unwraps it and slips it down his cock. though you’re already straddling him, he grasps your wrist and encourages you to draw nearer to him. “come here, pretty thing.”

when you’re hovering directly over him, jungkook grips the base and teases his tip against your entrance. “ready?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say breathlessly.

it’s a little slow-going, but you eventually end up with him seated inside you. it’s uncomfortable to be taking something bigger than a couple fingers, but it isn’t terribly painful.

“now, try moving your hips like this…” with his hands on your hips, jungkook helps you grind against him so that your clit slides across his pubic bone with every move. the discomfort begins to ebb out of your mind after a little while of doing this, and you laugh quietly.

“i thought…i thought this doesn’t feel good for men,” you sigh, your eyes closing from the bliss of his firm abdomen stimulating your clit. “this grinding thing, you know. or so a friend told me…”

jungkook laughs too, but he doesn’t confirm it like you expect him to. his only answer is, “a sexy woman on my dick will always feel good.”

he seems to be more about showing than telling, anyway. his hands reach for your breasts, groping them over the fabric of your dress before sliding underneath for better access. sporadic moans escape you as he plays with your nipples, making your clit throb harder and sending more warmth pooling in your abdomen.

your breath wheezes out of you when jungkook starts pushing up into you, his hands still squeezing your breasts. “you’re okay, baby…” he tries a few different angles until he pulls a visceral reaction out of you, your walls fluttering around him and your body shivering intensely. “mmm, there it is.”

your motions start tapering off as jungkook continues thrusting up against that same spot that had you in tears earlier. noticing this, he slips one hand back down to your hip and encourages you to maintain your pace, keeping your clit stimulated while meeting his thrusts. “you’re doing good…” he murmurs. “go ahead, keep fucking me just like that.”

you’re glad lorelai makes you go to the campus gym with her every week, because otherwise you’d be about to collapse riding him for this long. it takes more of your strength and stamina than you’d expected. no wonder jungkook stays in the gym.

“oh, fuck…” the way all his muscles flex as he repeatedly pushes up into you makes you wetter; you no longer have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the gushy noises your pussy is creating. your whole world has whittled down to this one room, and all you can think about is your next orgasm.

“pull my hair again,” he requests, his eyes dark and lost in lust when he looks up at you.

"jungkook..." you grip his sweaty hair in your hand and pull it to bare his throat, and he gives a desperate moan, his member jerking inside you. you've never felt so in control of a situation before in your life. it gives you a straight adrenaline-slash-dopamine rush.

his neck is just there and exposed, flushed from exertion, and his physical responses make you feel so primal, like you could do absolutely anything to him right now and he’d enjoy it. because of this, you decide to bite his neck, if only to give your mouth something to do. his dick twitches again when you do, another pretty moan leaving his mouth.

his voice is strained when he says, “bite me harder.” when you let go, your mouth travels the expanse of his neck to leave marks in a few other places, digging in harder just as he asked of you.

“fuck, y/n—” the pain of your teeth is pushing him close to the edge too soon, so he slips his other hand out from under your dress and brings it lower to circle his fingers over your clit. jungkook adding his experienced fingers to his constant stimulation of your g-spot is enough to cause your release. your body slumps onto his as you squeeze around him, your head falling into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and your eyes shutting so tightly that you see wobbling shapes in the darkness.

jungkook gives you a few more thrusts rougher than the rest, causing you to cry out. your climax and the aftershocks have your mind so dizzy that you only just realize that he’s reaching his own peak, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fills the condom with his cum. you hear him groan next to your ear, the sound of it filthy and uninhibited.

jungkook lifts your head from his shoulder, his thumbs on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours in a final slow kiss, his teeth leaving their mark on your bottom lip as a parting reminder.

you're still trying to get your bearings and slide him out of you when jungkook suddenly says, "what is that noise?"

"huh?" you remain immobile for a moment so you can listen more clearly, and you recognize the sounds of screaming and feet pounding on the floors in a bid to run away—both upstairs and downstairs. these don't sound like the same screams of pleasure from earlier. "what the hell?"

you and jungkook scramble to collect your clothes and get dressed, thankful that neither of you stripped down completely, and he throws the used condom into a random corner of the room. you're still making last minute adjustments when jungkook stands up and unlocks the door.

"the fuck is—?" his voice cuts off as if he can't finish his thought.

"what? what is it?" you stand up to get a better view around his body in the doorway, and you scream when you see a lone blonde girl lying a few feet away from the door, slumped against the opposite wall with a slashed throat. her pink party dress bleeds red, and her face that catches the illumination of the string lights glints with tear tracks. you look away from her unseeing eyes before you can cry out again.

jungkook seems confused, peering down the other end of the hallway like there'll be someone there to explain. "it...didn't work?" he asks to no one in particular, as you have no answer. you walk farther back into the room as if putting more distance between you and the body will provide some protection. bumping against the window sill, you turn around to look out the window and see several cars peeling out of the makeshift grass parking lot, nearly running over other people or hitting other cars on the way. you release a stifled scream from behind your hands when someone is too disoriented to get out of the way of the speeding cars and is sent flying through the air before landing painfully, their body now unmoving. the offending car never stops to check on them.

the screaming downstairs worsens, countless voices rising to a fever pitch of shouting and wailing, and you imagine this must be what the pits of hell sound like. jungkook whips around to look at you. “we gotta get the fuck out of here.”

you two inch out of the room with him in the lead, peering into jarred-open doorways to see if anybody could be waiting in the shadows. there are a couple of other bodies in two other rooms, and you wonder—even with the loud music constantly reverberating through the house, did you really not hear the struggles that led to these deaths in your throes of passion? the thought unnerves you. the idea that maybe you were only saved by jungkook deciding to lock the door…

the stair railing you’d walked by an hour ago is now broken in the middle, splinters of wood lying scattered on the stairs, along with more bodies lying on the steps just as haphazardly. the scene looks like the remnants of a stampede; you hope most of these people are just unconscious and not dead.

the dancefloor is a swarm of people in various states of undress pushing and pulling each other as they rush for the exit. there’s not as many people heading for the back door, everyone attempting to squeeze through the main entrance in their unthinking panic, so jungkook grabs your arm and the two of you pick your way through the bodies to get down the stairs as best you can. when you enter the mass of people, you’re exceptionally glad for his strength because it’s easier to get through the opposing crowd.

to reach the back door, you must first get through the kitchen. beside the kitchen entrance in a dark corner, you see someone doubled over and grasping the person in front of them for stability.

you realize belatedly that they have a knife in their stomach; the other person standing over them is the virgin killer himself, calmly watching them suffer.

the killer’s face is hidden by the mask he always wears, which you are seeing for the first time now, up-close—a hairy werewolf head with lemon-yellow eyes and a candy-red tongue. it’s so unexpected that you would’ve found it comedic if not for the context.

a guy in a blue sweater grasps the killer from behind in an attempted surprise attack, causing him to jerk the knife out of the other person’s stomach. the sudden movement causes a spray of blood to come flying off the knife, and you have to hold back vomit when drops of the warm, stinking crimson hit your face. though it feels like time has slowed to a mere creep, all of this happens within seconds.

you don’t see much more before jungkook is forcing you to move again.

you, jungkook, and multiple others barrel out of the back patio door, nearly ripping the flimsy screen door off its hinges in your haste, while the classmate in the blue sweater fruitlessly struggles with the killer in the kitchen. your leg muscles flex harder when you hear the person's agonized shout and the mushy rip of flesh being torn seconds later. almost everyone else has taken the same idea to run for their lives rather than stay and try to fight or disarm the killer; the streets are dotted in every direction with students running for any possible safety, many not having arrived to the party in cars to escape in.

thankfully, jungkook is not one of them.

he grasps your wrist painfully hard in his panic and yanks you in the direction of his car, which is so pitch black that you almost didn't see it sitting in the shadows.

when you get inside, you've never been so grateful to be within the safe metal enclosure of a car in your whole life. hands shaking, jungkook jams the key into the ignition and presses the gas pedal so hard your head jerks against the headrest. however, in your temporary relief, you think of lorelai. your vision doubles as you scramble to open your phone and call her, your head spinning with a new spike of fear. it rings for a while with no answer, and you try two more times only to get the same result.

"maybe she got to safety somewhere else?” jungkook tries to reason with you, his eyes bouncing between your face and the road ahead so he doesn't hit any other cars or any random students still running across the streets. "i didn't see her anywhere in the house before we ran out."

"that just means she could be hiding somewhere in there!" you shriek, unable to control your terror at your friend possibly being trapped in the house with the killer.

"well—maybe just let her stick it out, he won't find her if she just—"

"oh god, but i called her like three fucking times; what if he heard the phone ringing? i'm gonna kill myself."

“y/n, you’re overreacting like shit, there’s no way he’d hear a phone ringing in all that noise—"

unlistening, you drop your phone and bang your fists on your head in frustration and anguish.

sighing deeply, jungkook forgoes any attempt to do a 3-point turn, which requires more coordination than he has at the moment, and drives straight up into someone's yard to make a U-turn back toward the house.

you hadn’t gotten too far from the party house, so in another minute or two and with a couple messy turns that cause the wheels to ride up onto the curb, you’re back on the street leading up to the house. before you can reach it, though, jungkook slams on the breaks, and you have to throw your hands out onto the dashboard to avoid flying into it due to not fastening your seatbelt. you’re not very successful; the move hurts your wrists, and you’re pretty sure some of your ribs just got bruised anyway.

“what the fuck?” jungkook shouts.

the virgin killer with his lycanthrope mask is standing in the middle of the street; he turns to face the car. he has a chokehold grip on a guy you recognize as a popular frat member, who is almost bare except for his blue-plaid boxers. you remember seeing the frat guy dancing with his girlfriend when you and lorelai initially entered the party; he was in the group of guys who put this whole party together as a way to “save” the campus’s virgins.

the virgin killer is holding a gun to the guy’s head, and you have no clue where he might’ve gotten it from. the guy’s demeanor is weak, and he’s barely able to stand, which is obviously from the profuse blood loss he’s suffering; the killer has carved sharp letters into his stomach to form two words—“FAIR GAME.”

“fair game?” you mumble, a sickly realization forming in your mind.

“fuck no—" jungkook is already throwing the car into reverse when you hear and see the first bullet go off, exploding the frat member’s head into an unrecognizable mess and making you scream at the top of your lungs. you hear more shots after you close your eyes and tuck your body down, along with the sounds of bullets splitting metal and hitting glass, and you think you might be actively dying—or maybe you’re already dead. even that would be preferable to experiencing this nightmare.

you can’t think as you feel the whole world spinning, your body tossed violently around. in reality, the only thing moving is jungkook’s car as he whips the vehicle around and speeds down the same street you just traveled up.

for a few long minutes, you only hear your own heartbeat, his murmured and frantic curses, and the strained breaths coming from both of you. you keep your body curled up with your knees tucked to your chest and arms over your face. the car’s engine roars as it races down the highway.

you’re afraid to open your eyes and find out, but you have to at some point. plus, the uncomfortable position is making your body hurt. carefully, you unfurl yourself and turn to look at him. “did you get hurt?”

“uhh—no? i don’t think…?” he takes one hand off the wheel to feel up his body as if he’s just realizing that might be a possibility. “but i’m wired off pure adrenaline right now, so give me a few more minutes to be sure…” he looks to you. “are you?”

“no.” your blood still runs cold at the thought of lorelai being stuck in the house or navigating the dark neighborhood streets at this time of night. maybe she doesn’t even have her phone; maybe it was lost in the commotion. the number of possible scenarios makes you ill.

there’s silence for a while; you assume he must not be hurt after all. you start seeing familiar roads that lead back to the campus, and the gears in your mind begin turning, powered by fear.

“do you think it’s safe to go back to the college?” you ask, your voice small.

after a pause jungkook asks, “why not?” though his face begins to look like he’s second-guessing things.

“the killer could go back to the campus…i don’t know. there was so much violence tonight. it’s like he really has a grudge against the students from our school or something. what if he wants more victims? the campus police are already incompetent, but with most of them off the grounds and on their way to the party house…” you don’t finish your thought. you’ll need to warn camille of the potential danger.

“right, yeah…” jungkook’s hands flex around the steering wheel a few times. “we should…probably go somewhere else, then.”

nowhere feels safe. still, you ask, “where?”

changing his route, jungkook glances over at you. “to a friend’s house.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #female reader

5K notes · View notes

tpwrtrmnky · 3 months ago

Text

caught

[ID: Three panel comic with crudely drawn stick people.

Panel 1: A green person and a dark red person are talking, while the most illiterate person alive, a grayscale person wearing a book on their head, stands on the side.

Green: "It's so annoying how weird people are about misoviridy. Like either they want to frame it as an exclusionary thing where it's the only oppression that matters-"

Illiterate: "I am the most illiterate person alive!"

Green: "...Thanks for your input. Anyway on the other hand you've got the people who insist it's such a universal form of oppression that green and nonprimary greenish people stop being the primary targets of misoviridy, which is just ridiculous."

Dark red: "Yeah you can tell there's a desperate need to deny that there are issues specific to green people."

Panel 2: Zoom in on the most illiterate person alive, who says: "Holy.

Fucking.

Shitfuck.

I cannot believe you actually think blue and red people aren't oppressed.

You actually think nonprimary people aren't valid and congenial chromatic variation is bad."

Panel 3: Zoom out again. A turquoise person and a violet person join in from the sides.

Turquoise: "Holy shit I knew it and you caught them saying it!"

Violet: "I knew their vibes were off! Thank you, most illiterate person alive!"

Illiterate: "Object all you want! I could care less what you think, greenie! Shack yuus! [j'accuse but spelled incorrectly]"

Green: "Sigh."

Dark red: "Sigh."

End ID.]

Start - Previous - Next

#pills that make you green #ptmyg

561 notes · View notes

obsessedwithceleste · 9 months ago

Text

Fighting Fate (It’s a losing battle)

Theodore Nott x gn!reader

Inspired by, and dedicated to @musingsofahufflepuff

Summary: soulmate!au in which everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate. Bold of fate to assume it can tell you what to do.

word count: 3.1k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Ever since your first day at Hogwarts, you’d been told that you were lucky. A one in a million chance. Exceptional. Because as soon as you’d been sorted, and the sorting hat had been lifted up off of your head, your eyes had met his, and the world had burst into color.

It had been wildly disorientating at first- you almost fainted from the visual overload as the banners over each section of students burst into bright color. As you went to take your seat, you got strange looks from several students, but you never felt his eyes leave you.

You’d always thought it was rubbish. Even at the ripe old age of eleven. Your mother had first explained the idea of soulmates to you as a bedtime story. You remember her explaining how everything looked bland and colorless now because you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. But once you did, the world would come to life.

“When will I meet my soulmate?” You’d asked.

“Well, that’s the catch isn’t it? It’s different for everyone. Some meet their soulmate very young. At school even. But some, some will never meet their soulmate. They can be anywhere in the world, fate doesn’t discriminate.”

You’d scrunched your little nose up in distaste.

“That’s stupid. Why do I have to listen to fate?”

Your mother had only laughed, tucking you in and kissing your forehead goodnight. But the sentiment had remained as you grew up. How could someone really just be meant for you? Ridiculous.

Theo had known that you were going to be his soulmate before fate did. He’d watched silently from his seat on the train as you boarded, a nervous grin on your face as you waved goodbye to your family. You were perfect, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. At least until Mattheo swatted his arm.

“What’re you staring at, mate?” He’d asked loudly, gaining the attention of the other boys in the carriage.

“See them, there?” Theo asked, pointing to where you were boarding. “That’s going to be my soulmate.” He’d announced proudly.

“Yeah, okay mate,” the other boys had laughed, quickly moving on to the next topic.

But Theo didn’t take his eyes off of you until you disappeared through the train doors and off into some unknown compartment.

The next time he saw you was at the sorting ceremony. He watched as you confidently made your way up to the front, the smile never leaving your face as McGonagall lowered the hat onto your head. It only took a few moments of deliberation before the hat was being lifted off of your head and Theo’s eyes met yours.

It was like the wind was taken out of him as the room sprung to life, colors swirling around his vision as his eyes raced around the room in awe.

By the end of the night, all of Theo’s friends had been sorted into Slytherin with him. Mattheo, Enzo, Draco, Blaise. Even Crabbe and Goyle.

“I was right on the train. About them being my soulmate,” he’d announced proudly, pointing out different objects and describing the different colors to his friends who wondered in amazement.

You on the other hand, didn’t speak a word of it to anyone until you accidentally let it slip to your mother over break that you could see the pretty colored ornaments strung up on the tree.

She’d been thrilled of course, wanting to know every detail about this soulmate of yours. What did he look like? What house was he? Had the two of you spoken.

You answered each question with less enthusiasm than the one prior, and eventually she got the point and stopped asking.

As soon as the news slipped that Theodore Nott, a child of the sacred twenty-eight, and son of Tiberius Nott no less, could see in color however, it didn’t take long for people to start noticing you. Telling you how lucky you were to have found your soulmate. To be able to see color. As if you wanted a soulmate at eleven years old.

The first few years it was easy to avoid. Being only eleven or twelve, Theo was content admiring you from a far. Third year was when the boy finally got the courage to really try and talk to you for the first time. Sure he’d said hi a few times over the past couple years, but nothing you’d found particularly note worthy. Especially not for someone who was supposedly your soulmate.

“Are you any good at charms?” A voice asks, startling you as you look up from the essay you had been finishing up in the court yard. It was a warm, cloudy day, with only a light breeze, so you’d thought it would be the perfect day to take your studies outside.

You stare up in surprise at the brunette boy in front of you, watching silently as he takes a seat across from you.

In the past, you'd played the avoiding game, quickly scurrying off if you saw the boy or his friends approaching. This year, you hadn't been taking the same precautions, and it seemed Theodore was taking full advantage.

“I’m alright,” you reply hesitantly.

That was a lie. Charms was your best subject, but you were hoping the boy might go away. He didn’t.

"I know that you're top of the class," he responds, staring intently at you with a sly smirk.

That afternoon you begrudgingly helped Theodore with his charms homework, and he happily helped you with your DADA essay. There wasn’t a whole lot of interaction between the two of you, but he wasn’t horrible you supposed. At least he had brain cells to rub together.

After that he kept popping up sporadically throughout your third year.

At quidditch tryouts he'd insisted on partnering with you for several of the drills. You both were offered a place on the team. In the Great Hall he'd seek you out to ask about the homework assignment he'd missed after skiving off of class with Mattheo. The fact that you gave him your notes each time meant nothing. Obviously. And every so often, between the shelves of books in the library, you'd see a flash of soft brown hair, and intense eyes gazing at you before they disappeared as if you were imagining it.

With each increasing encounter, the both of you made idle conversation as you kept the boy at an arms length. It was nothing personal really. In fact the more you thought about it, he seemed perfectly alright. But something in your stubborn thirteen year old self just wanted to stick it to fate. So you continued to ice the boy out.

Theodore however, was nothing if not determined. He knew from the moment he saw you that he was meant to be yours, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers. Thirteen year old Theodore was a stubborn bastard and he knew he was willing to play the long game.

Things grew a bit more complicated in fourth year when you became friends with some of the Slytherin crowd.

It had been an accident really. You’d been reading down by the Black Lake when Daphne Greengrass had stumbled upon you, followed closely by Pansy Parkinson and Lorenzo Berkshire.

“Oh!” she’d said in delight, seeing the book in your hands, “I love that book!”

The two of you ended up talking enthusiastically about the novel for almost an entire hour with Pansy and Enzo butting in every so often to add their thoughts.

“Wait, you’re Theodore’s soulmate aren’t you?” Enzo asks, eventually recognizing you.

You eye the boy cautiously as you nod slowly, suddenly feeling self conscious.

Pansy just wrinkles her nose.

“Sorry you got stuck with such a tosser.” She says.

The four of you are quiet for a moment before your laughter breaks the silence, the other three following shortly after.

After that, you’re integrated into their little group seamlessly. You’d always been a bit of a loner. Sure people would wander up to you often enough to chatter about what it was like to see colors, but that was really all people wanted to know about you. Like it was some trivial party trick.

It was nice having your own friends to study with and wander about Hogsmeade with on the weekends. It was nice to have people who liked being around you simply for being you. Not because some magical force had decided to bind you to a whole other human and grant you the ability to see color.

It didn’t take long for Theo to notice you hanging about more frequently. How could he not? You were so pretty. So smart and witty. So perfect. He was just so happy to have you around more often. Even if it wasn’t to spend time with him specifically.

He reveled in any little morsel of information that he could scrape up from your friends. Your favorite color, your favorite sweets at Honeydukes, your class schedule. Theo was willing to admit the last one was a bit weird, but he was really just hungry to learn anything he could about his elusive soulmate.

Soon enough, it didn’t become unusual for Theodore and Mattheo to join the four of you on your little excursions. Popping up at the Black Lake, or meeting up with you at the Three Broomsticks. He was just always there. As if he was making a point of it. And begrudgingly you began to let him in.

A friend of your friends was okay you thought. Wouldn’t hurt to get to know him a bit. That wasn’t crossing any lines.

For Theo however, this was huge. He was finally getting somewhere. Even if you weren’t ready for any sort of romantic relationship, he was going to be the best damn friend you’d ever had.

By fifth year, there was simply no denying it. Theodore Nott was your best friend. You weren’t really sure how it had happened. The two of you just fit so well together. He had truly wormed his way into your life.

It had started with the study sessions.

"Remember when you helped me with charms in third year?" He'd asked. "I got top marks on that assignment."

As those became more frequent, it had turned into afternoons by the lake with both of you deep in your own novels, but sharing the comfortable silence.

Then it had morphed into weekends at Hogsmeade. Your friends thought they were being subtle when they consistently slipped away, leaving you and Theo to wander about the village. You couldn't find it in yourself to mind though.

You’d tried to keep him at an arms length. You really had. But Enzo couldn’t make you laugh as hard as you did with Theo. And Daphne just wasn’t the intellectual match that Theo was. And Pansy always made sure you let loose sure, but being around Theo was just- freeing.

You still weren’t sold on the whole soulmate thing though. Sure Theo was great. Perfect even. But you just couldn’t shake the icky feeling of blindly trusting fate to decide your life.

Then it happened. No one was expecting it. Especially not Pansy. But you and Pansy and Draco and Theo had all been working late on a potions assignment before dinner, and on your way back up from the dungeons, Pansy ran smack into a certain platinum haired Ravenclaw. You’d later find out that her name was Luna Lovegood. As soon as their eyes met, Pansy stumbled, leaning into you for support. You already knew what was happening as her eyes darted around wildly.

“Oh. I suppose we’re soulmates then aren’t we?” The girl said, a dreamy look overtaking her.

It all seemed too easy for them after that. It was like a flip had switched and the two were just mad for each other. A picture perfect example of what soulmates should be.

You found it to be slightly horrifying how blindly trusting fate could severely change a person and their relationship with an essential stranger.

Theo however, couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. He had what? Almost five whole years on Pansy, and was lucky to get a friendly hug out of his soulmate. Yet Pansy and Luna were inseparable after only a few short weeks.

Not that Theo thought he was entitled to your affection necessarily. But it would be nice if you’d at least acknowledge the bond you two shared he thought.

“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?” Daphne asks one night.

It was one of those rare nights where it was only you, Daphne, Pansy, and Enzo huddled together wrapped in thick, warm blankets inside Daphne and Pansy’s dorm room. Salazar knows where Millicent was off spending her night. A bottle of shared fire whisky sat between you and packs of chocolate frogs littered the floor.

You blink in surprise at your friend’s question. You didn’t talk about soulmate stuff much.

“I do believe in them,” you say with a simple shrug.

“Yeah but you don’t really believe in them, ya know? Why?” She pushes.

You pause again, glancing at Pansy who was looking back at you intently.

“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t like the idea of someone deciding to be with me, just because they’re supposed to.” You say finally.

“I suppose I know what you mean.” Pansy murmurs after a moment.

You look at the girl in surprise and can tell the other two are shocked as well.

“Don’t get me wrong. I adore Luna. Really. I always tell her that I’m so glad that fate put us together. But then sometimes I wonder. If it weren’t for fate, would I have even given her a second glance that day I bumped into her in the corridor?”

There’s a silent lull as your group mulls over Pansy’s words before slowly drifting off to a new topic.

In another dorm, not so far off, Theo lay on his bed staring blankly up at the ceiling.

“Think they’ll come around soon?” Mattheo asks, sensing his roommate’s building tension.

“I dunno. But I’ll wait,” he replies, closing his eyes and letting images of you flood his mind. “They’re worth it.”

That night as you’re leaving to return to your dorm, Enzo catches your arm, pulling you off to the side.

“You can never tell Theo that I told you this, but the first time I met Theo, we were on the train waiting to leave for Hogwarts and he pointed out the window to a someone and said ‘they’re going to be my soulmate’. Then, at the sorting ceremony he got all dizzy all the sudden, and when we got to the common room, he said that he’d been right about who his soulmate would be. You. Just thought you should know.”

And with that, he’s gone.

It’s after that that you really begin to see Theo. You’d never really given him a fighting chance. But now, you kind of wanted to.

It’s the beginning of sixth year when Theo finally notices the shift. Notices you actually seeking him out on purpose, not flinching away when your hands brush, eyes hovering on his lips a bit too long for it to be accidental. And to say that he is ecstatic.

Meanwhile you were silently kicking yourself for taking so long to get over your petty bullshit with fate. Sure you still didn’t love the idea of it all, but after spending enough time with Theo, you could really, truly see the appeal.

After that night in fifth year, you began noticing how Theodore was one of the only students who could keep up with your academic prowess. He could always sense when you were tired, or stressed, or simply in a mood, and always did his best to subtly cheer you up. He was always there. Even after all the years you had put him through the wringer, he remained by your side. And that’s what really convinced you.

It’s also what landed you here, at the top of the astronomy tower, with your head in Theodore’s lap as his fingers raked gently through your hair.

It had become a usual meeting spot for the both of you. Theo had brought you up here a week into the school year starting. It was his safe place. His getaway when everything got to be too much, or when he just needed space to think. When those words had left his mouth you had melted. He trusted you. You had meant so much to him for so long, and you couldn't be bothered to give him the time of day.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, eyes gazing out at the swirling navy sky that seemed to stretch on forever.

“For what, amore?”

“Dunno. Making you feel like you weren’t good enough, or makin you feel like a bad soulmate.”

Theo looks down at you, and you meet his steady gaze.

“I knew I was good enough, amore. We wouldn’t be soulmates if we weren’t perfect for each other.” He replies.

You perk up at this. “You think I’m perfect?” You ask, a dopey smile appearing on your face.

Theo just rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he laughs. He'd grown used to your antics. Just another piece of you that he'd grown fond of.

“I said that we’re perfect together. But you’re perfect too I suppose.”

It hadn’t taken nearly as long as you had expected to reach this point. It seemed that Theo had just been waiting for the word to switch on boyfriend mode. All it took was one spontaneous, heated make out session in his dorm room, and you had the boy wrapped around your finger. (He already had been for years, but you didn’t need to know that.)

“Alright. Wrap it up love birds. You better be fully clothed,” Pansy calls, head peeping up from the top of the staircase leading up to the tower. “You two have been up here for hours, and you can’t have them all to yourself Theodore. They were our friend first.”

“Yeah! Time’s up lover boy!” You hear Enzo call.

Theo groans, head falling back as he rises lazily, offering you a hand up.

“I waited five years for this, can’t you guys let me have my moment?” He calls back.

“No!” The chorus replies.

With a laugh, you grab onto Theo’s hand, tugging him towards the stairs.

“C’mon. If we get Mattheo and Enzo drunk enough, they won’t notice if I spend the night,” you say with a cheeky wink.

“I heard that!” Enzo’s voice rings out.

“You wouldn’t say no to me anyway,” you shout back.

With a smile, Theo follows you down the stairs after your rowdy friends, hand wrapped tightly around yours. It had taken him five long years, and he certainly wasn’t going to let go anytime soon.

I'm a sucker for soulmate aus

#slytherin boys #theodore nott #harry potter universe #slytherin #lorenzo berkshire #matteo riddle #theo nott #draco malfoy #enzo berkshire #theo nott fanfiction #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #daphne greengrass #theo nott x reader #slytherin boys fanfiction #soulmate au #soulmates

2K notes · View notes

leqonsluv3r · 8 months ago

Note

Thoughts on a ‘the bodyguard’ AU with leon and reader BUT!!!! Reader is a superstar who is much more “sexualized” and basically records soft porn for their music videos. at first leon thinks he's going to deal with another girl who thinks shes all hot shit only to find out shes bound by contract and only wanted to sing and preform not do.. this. But shes wary of Leon bc she thinks Leon thinks can get her in bed.

Even better.. if shes a virgin… 👀

popular

re4 bodyguard!leon kennedy x famous!fem reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: MDNI, 18+, virgin reader (but not naive or inexperienced), leon being a big soft bodyguard, reader has insecurities, some mentions of body issues, mentions of anxiety around cameras, readers parents are assholes, everyone that’s not leon or reader is kind of an asshole (sorry), mentions of masturbating, praise, pet names (baby, sweet girl, etc), small age gap (reader is 21 & leon is 27), lots of kissing & praise, aftercare, soft!dom leon makes another appearance, sub!reader, oral (m receiving), and unprotected sex.

“she wants to argue. wants to refute the idea of even having a bodyguard. it’s ridiculous. even if stepping into a crowd with cameras pushed in her face and flashing lights makes her heart rate increase, not in the way she’d prefer. she waits for him to show up, she doesn’t even know who her agent hired but she’d rather hide and cower in fear then stand at her door like an idiot. finally, a knock at her door. she opens it without a second thought. the most devastating man on the other side of it, her resolve slips as he looks her up and down with a small click of his tongue, “nice to meet you, i’m leon.” and she seems to forget the reason she was arguing to begin with.”

— or reader gets a bodyguard and unknowingly signs up for more then protection in the process

masterlist taglist

an: HOLY SHIT UR A GENIUS <333 thank you for the request. i’ve been waiting for this, hopefully you enjoy it. i am a sucker for the bodyguard trope but throw in the fact that she’s a virgin and it’s almost like the bodyguard :,) jesus, y’all are geniuses. i’m sorry that this is so long in advance. take it as a peace offering for taking so long.

she has no idea what she signed up for.

not in the slightest.

she has no idea who her agent hired for protection but after her stunt last week in front of the paparazzi, she’s willing to bet it’s someone who knows what he’s doing.

after leaving her house last week, going to the strip to shop a little and having a day to herself. she got bombarded by the paparazzi for no reason, other then just simply being in the limelight and having cameras shoved in her direction.

she tried to avoid the millions of people with cameras, flashing bulbs and the annoying click of the cameras lens with their annoying and useless questions. one person in particular got a little too close and…

her anxiety spiked causing her to smack the persons camera out of their hand and cause him sending backwards on the sidewalk with the persons broken camera. she didn’t act rationally, there wasn’t room for that anymore. not when she was as famous as she was.

not when she closed her eyes she could hear the clicking of the cameras and the flashing of the lights and everything but her heart pounding her ribcage ceased to exist.

she hated it, she never wanted to be half-naked on magazine spreads, showing off her body on stage. she just wanted to sing for christ’s sake, wanted to write and preform the songs she’d written for years. but her fucking parents…her stupid agent. she hated all the people around her in her career secretly who made her into some sexualized object for people to gawk and stare at.

she felt like a circus act sometimes, not even a world renowned singer. she hated it, she really hated it. and not to mention, she’s a virgin. it’s like her career and the people around her are mocking her, taunting her with the idea of sex but not letting it within her reach.

it’s not like she still wanted to be a virgin at twenty-one. she didn’t but she couldn’t trust a single soul in her world, in her life that she could even begin to consider sharing that part of herself with.

so as she paced in the foyer of her house, waiting for this so called bodyguard that her agent hired to arrive, she couldn’t help but hate the idea. sure, she had anxiety with cameras and sure, she was unsafe every time she went out because of her status to the public.

and the fact that her agent didn’t even ask her before getting her a body guard, going behind her back and just doing it. another nail in the metaphorical coffin that was sure to send her spiraling one day. she ran a hand over her face and checked her apple watch on her wrist.

she didn’t wanna even think about the person that her agent hired. probably getting her someone who has more muscle mass then brains, and doesn’t think before he shoots a gun. in her case, if that’s it, she could just fire him.

a smile slid onto her face at the prospect, even though she really did need protecting. she just hoped it didn’t come back to bite her in the ass later. that was the last thing she needed in her already hectic life.

the doorbell rang and she smoothed out her yoga pants and baby tee, going to open the door. almost waiting to be disappointed when she opened the large piece of wood. but to no avail, she opened it and on the other side stood the most devastatingly handsome man she had ever laid her eyes on.

he seemed to be eyeing her the same way she was with him, she was suddenly very self conscious about her choice of clothing. almost wanting to run back up the stairs to her bedroom to change, his hard blue eyes scanning her from her feet to her eyes like he was analyzing her.

“nice to meet you, i’m leon.” he says with a small ghost of a smile on his features, she swallows and doesn’t know why she forgets her name all of a sudden. this cannot be her bodyguard, please tell me this is her agents idea of a cruel prank.

she nods and says her name, barely getting the words out. she tries to regain the confidence that she had before she opened the door, but it’s lost and she can no longer find it. “i know who you are,” he says with a small chuckle, “i’m sorry i’m late. they wouldn’t let me in at the gates.” he says with a small sigh as if reliving the moment in his head.

she side steps and lets him in, “yeah,” she laughs nervously as she watches him step past her and into her house. “they’re kind of paid to keep people out, not let them in.” she says with a small laugh that sounds nothing like herself. she shuts the door behind them both, letting him look around the interior of her house.

“i suppose their just doing their job then.” he says with a small amused click of his tongue as he moves through the entryway of her house. she stands behind him awkwardly, taking him in while he’s not looking.

he has to be six feet tall at least, or close to it. the suit he’s wearing doesn’t do him enough justice, his muscles are barely straining underneath the fabric. and how he smells…he’s like a cooling mix of mint and some other fragrance she can’t get a handle on.

“i suppose they are.” she says awkwardly as she makes her way past him and trails herself into the kitchen, letting him follow behind her. his shoes thudding against the hardwood polished flooring, making her heart pick up for a different reason entirely.

she grabs a drink from her fridge, trying to distract her brain and her eyes from the gorgeous man a few feet away from her. “would you like a drink?” she asks with a small nervous smile, keeping her eyes trained on the interior of the fridge rather than him. god, he just made her wet. just his presence was enough to make her feel horny.

he shakes his head, waving a hand dismissively, “i’m alright.” she nods and grabs a soda for herself out of her fully stocked fridge and shuts it behind her, cracking the soda and taking a sip. she manages to take a peek at him, he’s still looking around her house.

what could be so interesting about her house? she thinks to herself as she shifts on her feet, just watching him as she leans against her marble counter and sips her soda. his eyes seem to catch a piece of art in the kitchen, that was one of the perks about being subjected to being famous.

the art and things she had acquired, she had collected some pieces like trophies. just to prove to herself that not every part of being famous and having a lot of money was so terrible.

“you like art?” she asks softly as she shifts behind him, sipping on her soda again. she watched his blue eyes trace over the contours of the canvas in the kitchen. she just watches him take it in and devour it with his eyes.

she was kinda jealous of the painting.

just for a split second before he spoke and snapped her out of it, “i have a taste for it.” he says demurely, looking back over at her and away from the art. “so,” he eyes her up and down with those glacier blue eyes.

she swallows and shifts on her feet, looking back at him. “so?” she says with a small nervous smile. he sighs, “things are gonna be different from now on and i’m assuming you know that.” he says with a small brow raise, sticking his hands in his slack pockets.

she swallows and nods, “yeah, uhm, probably. my agent said that she gave you a rundown of everything that’s been going on.” she says nervously as she drinks more of her soda again and ducks her down for a split second. meeting his eyes was dangerous, it was like he could see right through her.

“exactly.” he clicks his tongue and moseys through the large kitchen, almost like he’s inspecting it as he talks, “i’m going to be with you all the time. i’ll escort you to places, even public outings that are simple. not another paparazzi fiasco will happen when i’m around.” he says firmly but his tone was gentle and smooth.

her cheeks blush a deep shade of scarlet, “you…heard about that?” she swallows as she looks back up at him from where he stood on the opposite side of her kitchen. he nods, a ghost of a smirk on his face, “who didn’t hear about that?” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice.

she had to give him that, it was on every publication after it happened. saying that she was violent towards the press when she simply just freaked out. cameras being shoved in her face, the flashing lights, the clicking of lenses, she hated it.

“that will never happen again, paparazzi will be controlled and away from you. put to a minimum, i’ll make sure of that.” he said with a tap of his fingers to the countertop of her kitchen. she sighs and nods, her mouth dry at just his presence alone. “i’ll protect you, okay? you’ve got nothing to worry about.” he said firmly.

she found comfort in leon’s words, more comfort then she should. she liked him already, maybe a little too much.

two weeks later, it was proving harder and harder to be around leon. she liked his presence, he was gentle and he never scolded her. he didn’t put pressure on her like everyone else did. he was simply doing his job and protecting her, like he was hired to do.

but she couldn’t ignore certain things about him, things that made her core heat up. he would always have his fingers splayed out on his thighs when he sat, and it was hard to not let her mind wander around. just imagining his hands on her, rubbing over her skin and coaxing noises out of her.

then there was the matter of him coming to her shoots, he would always keep his eyes trained on her. and seeing him and his eyes on her when she was basically wearing nothing for a shoot, it was beyond torture and it was like having another piece of sex dangled in front of her that she couldn’t have.

over time, in the next two weeks, she kept doing it for him. usually she’d have to fake acting sexy, fake her confidence but with his eyes on her. his blue irises trailing every movement, it was so easy to just pretend it was the two of them, fantasize for a small moment. it was the only way she got through shoots anymore.

as another week passed, then another, the constant presence of leon whether she went shopping was there. he was always watching her, watching other people. his gaze was so gentle, so firm and yet so cold. like he could snap someone’s neck with just a simple look. it was exciting and thrilling, making her uncomfortably aroused.

and whenever that happened, she went home, dismissed him for the day and went to her bedroom. she would slide her hand down her pants and just fantasize about him, his strong hands, his sharp jaw and the way his tone sometimes became gentle out of nowhere.

she would imagine that maybe one day, he would bend her over her kitchen counter, fuck her until she was a crying mess. he’d be gentle, but also rough and firm when it counted. she imagined all these things with her hands rubbing at herself.

it was becoming so unbearable to just be in his presence these days, he was just doing his job but it was so annoying. so annoying to be a virgin still and have a piece of eye candy basically follow you everywhere and always have his eyes on you.

the universe was taunting her again with her career, with her fame and she deeply despised it. she hoped secretly that she would just be put out of her misery sooner. she didn’t wanna be a virgin anymore.

one day, after hours at a shoot and grueling work, she went back to her house. leon escorted her back and she dismissed herself to go shower and clean up.

she needed to wash the filth of her career off of her body in one way or another. she fucking hated that she was forced into doing something by her parents and agent just so she could make money.

money was not everything. that was a proven fact.

after she showered, changed her clothes and did her skincare routine. she went downstairs, going into the kitchen to grab a soda. she needed calories, she didn’t give a fuck anymore. her mom, her dad and her agent could all shove it.

“a soda? it’s 4pm?” leon said from behind her at the island, his suited muscular body sitting on a stool and scrolling on his phone. she sighed, popping the can of soda open with a hiss, “your not my keeper. i can drink soda.” she says with a small frown.

“i personally don’t care what you do as long as it’s safe. i was just making an observation.” he says with a small ghost of a smirk down at his phone. why does he have to be so hot, this isn’t fair. she thinks to herself as she sips on her soda and nods.

“sorry, i’m just…” she starts and walks towards the marble island that separated them in the lavish kitchen. “i just don’t like being told what to do in every aspect of my life, i get a little touchy.” she says with a small sigh, brushing her damp hair over her shoulder.

he sits his phone down on the island, looking at her, “who tells you what to do? your parents?” he says with furrowed brows, he was almost confused. like he couldn’t understand why a 21 year old like herself was getting bossed around and told what to do.

“try my parents, my agent, and all of the people i employ.” she says with a small frown as she sips on her soda, looking down at the marble counter top of the island.

he sighs and shifts on the stool he’s perched on, “they’re all controlling?” he asks with a small look of confusion on his lovely features. she swallows back a little bit of her nerves, “i didn’t want this.” she says honestly.

she doesn’t feel like she has to hide everything from him all the time, not after he’s been around her a month, almost two. “i didn’t want to be…this.” she gestures to the house around him, she looked up at him and unflinchingly met his strong blue gaze.

she continued, “all i’ve ever wanted was to do things my way. my career, my life. i have never had a choice. my parents, my label and my agent have all made sure of that.” she feels her mouth drying up as she continues to speak. like all the things that have been pent up were pouring out of her.

and leon just listened, nodding when he wanted to or when it was needed. he wasn’t being paid to be her therapist, or anything other then her bodyguard. but he was listening, he was understanding her. her frustrations and the things that made her tick, made her upset.

“so let me get this straight.” he says after she explains and basically rants to him, raising a hand as his eyes shut in frustration and in something that border-lined on concern.

“you’ve just wanted to sing, to write music and preform. but your parents, your label and…your agent they’ve all made you into this sex symbol just because of the money?” he says with a small open to his blue eyes again, they were so powerful and untouchable, just like him. no wonder he was her bodyguard.

she nods with a dry mouth, sipping on her soda again, forgetting it was beside her on the counter. “pretty much.” she said with a sad laugh, shifting on her bare feet against the cool tile of the kitchen.

his face took on one of frustration, sadness and he almost looked pained. he didn’t pity her, didn’t say sorry. he just pressed his lips together into a line, “your they’re daughter.” he says in a cold tone.

it’s one she had never heard before but it had an affect, the shiver up her spine beneath her clothes. the goosebumps on her arms and the pulsing of her clit. it was having an affect.

she closes her eyes for a beat, blowing out some air and just said, “i know.” and she accepted it. she had accepted it for a while now, that maybe some things were just never going to change.

and she was just going to be expected to live with it.

the revelation to leon had brought forth changes, changes that she didn’t ever know she needed. and she should’ve done it sooner, told someone on the outside that had no idea who she was what she desired, what she longed for.

freedom.

he was different now, he was more…attentive.

he would stick by her side until the very last second at shoots, music videos, anything that required her to be half naked. he was there, standing right beside her.

he would even encourage her, whisper things when her makeup crew or clothing people weren’t around. he was even rubbing his hand over her elbows, shoulders and a firm hand on her lower back to steer her.

people wrote it off as him just being a very good and protective bodyguard. but they both knew deep down that things had shifted between them.

it was almost friendship, almost, except for the longing deep in her gut. his touches were innocent but would make her body pulse and her skin heat. it was dangerous to be so close to him sometimes.

she couldn’t doubt that if someone were to take her virginity, she’d want it to be him. she’d imagine often how gentle he would be, yet domineering like he was in his role as her bodyguard.

she had no doubt in her mind that if the opportunity ever presented itself, she’d have to take it.

she’d let him, the thought didn’t petrify her anymore. he had not spoken to a soul about what she shared about her career, about her life and what she really and truly wanted. she knew she could trust him.

she’d just have to wait and deeply hope that he’d try something, anything that she could latch onto where he was concerned.

she was too fucking nervous to make the first move, she didn’t know what that would even be? kiss him? palm his erection? she’d had sexual encounters before but they never went below the belt.

but she knew that she had just as much impact on him as he did with her. she had seen that subtle shift in the next two weeks after she had confided in him in the kitchen.

his stare lingered on certain parts of her body for far too long to be considered friendly. she never caught his stare, she wanted him to look. and it felt good to be practically eye-fucked by him, it gave her a sense of confidence that she’d never had before.

it was freeing.

one day, she was feeling like a taut rubber band. like every gentle touch and feeling of him being in her vicinity was driving that feeling in between her legs in agony.

it physically pained her from how aroused she was, her nipples were hard in her bra and she felt like she was going to burst into flames if he delicately touched her elbow or any part of her skin again.

it was torture.

she felt like she needed at least to masturbate like a hundred times before the feeling ended. before she could ease that ache, she was just sitting in her bedroom, watching her flatscreen on the wall mounted in front of her.

she rubbed her thighs together, she was hoping to soothe the ache there. she bites her lip until it could almost bleed.

she wasn’t expecting leon to still be here, she was waiting for him to go home like he did everyday, waiting for him to leave her. she was almost desperately waiting just so she could stick her hand in between her legs and satisfy the ache there.

but no, he looked in the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe. she kept her eyes locked on the tv, but she could feel his glacier like gaze on her. she kept her back leaned against the headboard, pressing her thighs together as she watched the tv show in front of her.

“i thought you went home already?” weak excuse and question on her part, she didn’t know if she wanted him to go so she could alienate the ache herself or if she wanted him to stick around to see where this might lead.

he chuckled lowly and shook his head, “nah, sorry pretty girl. i’m sticking around a little later. why so urgent for me to leave?” he says with a small raise of his brow in her direction.

pretty girl? fuck me. she thinks to herself as she sputters for an answer, her lips parting. “uhm, i just…i’m not urgent. you…you just usually are gone by now.” she says softly as she looks at him, meeting his gaze.

she presses her thighs together on instinct even though it did nothing to get rid of the dripping tension in her panties.

“oh? so it’d have nothing to do with you touching yourself now would it?” he says with a almost feline smile, she felt her eyes go wide and her body freeze. how the hell did he know about that?

“i-i…” she tries to speak, to ignore the way her cheeks were heating up in embarrassment or the way her lower stomach churned with arousal that he knew.

“i heard you last week after you thought i left.” he says lowly as he slowly saunters into her room a little more, rounding the bed until he was standing at the very end of the queen mattress, his gaze trained on her, his movements almost primal.

she would almost pinch herself, she had to be dreaming. this wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real.

“i-“ she tried to speak again, to justify what he heard, to maybe get some kind of excuse or explanation out. he stopped her again, planting one of his hands on the surface of her mattress. ��you moaned my name.” he says in a dark voice, his eyes practically eating her alive.

she felt naked under his gaze, felt her skin shiver and heat up within the same breath as she parted her lips a little.

“so tell me, pretty girl, what about me turns you on enough to where you feel the need…to stick your hands down into your pants and cum all over your fingers?” he says with a small predatory raise of his brow, he leans back and rounds to her side of the bed on her mattress.

she couldn’t think of just one thing to answer his question, she had so many things. so many things that she could say but the lust and arousal in her underwear was fogging her virgin brain. “everything.” she breathed out as she looked up at him as he stood above her on where she was sitting on her bed.

he licks his lips and his pupils dilate a little bit, “everything, huh?” he says with a smirk, sitting down on the bed by her. his hand resting on her knee, rubbing small circles on the skin there, causing goosebumps to crawl up her legs and make in between her legs pulse.

“yes.” she breathes softly, almost gasping for air. this sounds nothing like her, so desperate and wanting. this was the opportunity and she had to take it, she moved forward as she met him, her face so close to his as his hand went up from her knee up to her thigh, gently squeezing and rubbing.

“go ahead, baby.” he said in a low rasp as he saw her looking between his beautiful blue eyes and his pink lips. she licked her own lips and nodded slowly, almost in a trance. he was giving her permission, he was letting her kiss him.

she moved her head forward and pressed her lips to his, softly moving her lips against his as his grip on her thigh got tighter. the kiss started to heat up, his tongue started moving against hers and she grasped at his shirt, her small hands grasping the fabric like a tether as they continued to sloppily make out.

she couldn’t find it in herself to care as the tv show went on and played softly in the background as she kept kissing him. she was desperate and trying to subtly get him closer to her, trying to pull herself on-top of him.

he caught onto that, letting her move onto him, straddling his lap as she felt his bulge rub up against the hem of her shorts. she came up for air but kept kissing him, his hands holding onto her hips in a gentle but firm grip. she wasn’t going to be moving anymore or going anywhere.

finally, he pulled away and rasped near her ear, “tell me what you want? hmm, pretty girl? what can i give you?” he whispers against the skin of her ear in a soft rasp.

she shivers and lets out a small whine, “i want…want…” she breathes and she’s desperate, she moves her hips down against his erection, trying to get him close to her.

“you want my cock pretty girl?” he says softly in her ear, rubbing the soft skin in between her shirt and shorts, down to her ass, cupping both cheeks in his hands and squeezing. the words going into her ear and drifting around like music to her ears.

she mewls, his hands on her ass making her press down on his hardened erection more. she nodded slowly and licked her lips, he pulled his head away a little to fully look at her face. her lips were puffy and swollen from their kissing, her eyes hazy and diluted with lust.

“where do you want it?” he rasps softly as he moves on of his hands from her ass to cup her chin, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip. “you want it in your mouth?” he says with a soft smirk, completely 180 from before.

he then doesn’t give her a chance to respond or react before he moves his hand down to her shorts, cupping in between her legs. “or in that pretty pussy you have?” he says. she whines and tries to move against his hand, he tuts her and moves his hand away. “choose baby, i’m being patient.” he whispers in a low rumble.

“both.” she mumbles in a small heave of breath, her chest rising and falling beneath her shirt fast. his eyes dilate more if it’s even possible, she can barely see the blue in his eyes anymore.

he licks his lips, she could feel his dick twitch in his pants beneath her, she held back a whine and swallowed. “mmm, both? i think that can be arranged, princess.” he says softly as he looks at her with a soft grin.

she feels her panties get wetter if it was even possible at this point. he seems to toss the idea around in his brain for a second, one hand still squeezing her ass and the other rubbing over her stomach over her shirt.

“get naked, baby. then get on your knees.” he says in a soft demand. she shakily climbs off of him, his hands falling away as her feet hit the ground of her bedroom in front of him. she keeps eye contact with him as she moves her hands to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head.

her skin kissing the cool air of the room, her nipples hardening further beneath the material of her bra. he keeps his eyes on her the whole time, practically devouring her with just a simple gaze.

that was incentive enough to continue doing what he said, the promise of what she was going to do after she got naked made her tremble in arousal a little.

she slipped off her cotton shorts next, letting them pathetically fall to the floor by her feet and her discarded shirt. and now was the time when he would see everything, he wouldn’t see the version that he’d seen before.

he’d see all of her in her purest form, so raw and real that it almost made her legs shake where she stood. he nodded once at her, silently telling her to continue.

she licked her lips and reached behind her, unclasping her bra like she’d done this a million times before. she lets the material fall to the floor again with the rest of her discarded clothes. she could’ve sworn she heard him groan when he saw her breasts.

she didn’t give him much time to recover as she stripped her underwear down her legs and was completely barren and standing before him.

he muttered a ‘fuck’ beneath his breath and grabbed a pillow from her bed, sitting it on the ground in front of his legs. she’d given blow jobs before, but nothing like this.

nothing like leon looking at her like she was the only thing that seemed to matter in this moment. this went beyond protection, beyond his job description and beyond anything they both could comprehend.

she got down on her knees in front of him, her knees kissing the pillow as she felt him reach down and cup her chin, bringing her gaze up towards him.

“your in good hands now, pretty girl. i’ll give you what you want. and i don’t expect anything in return, okay?” he says with his unwavering gaze locked on hers. she nods in his grip, his thumb going back to her bottom lip and pushing his thumb in between her lips and teeth.

she understands, her arousal pooling messily in between her thighs as she kneels on the pillow before him. she sucks generously on the pad of his thumb, taking the whole thing into her mouth, swirling her tongue on it a little.

“fuck, baby. so messy.” he whispers in a low rasp as he watches in amazement as you suck and lick at his thumb like it was his cock. he pulls it out of your mouth with a small pop, smearing your saliva all over your lips. “so pretty, princess. i promised you my cock.” he muses lowly.

she can’t think or say anything, fearing the only thing at this point to come out of her mouth would be whines and whimpers. he undoes his belt on his slacks, lifting his hips to pull both the boxers and the slacks down to where his cock springs free against his stomach.

fuck, even his cock was beautiful. she licked her lips on instinct and saw the little bead of precum at the tip, swallowing her nerves she moved her head over it. pressing a kiss to the tip which made him emit a small noise bordering on a groan and a moan, she kept pressing kisses to the tip before licking at the vein that ran from the base to the head.

“oh, pretty girl…such a tease.” he drawls in a low panting breath above her. she feels her practically leak down her legs at this point, his words making her clench around nothing.

she licks at the tip before hollowing her cheeks and sucking him into her mouth, her head bobbing slowly. she felt his hands go into her hair and hold her head gently almost guiding her as she kept her mouth and head moving on his cock.

“fuck, just like…fuck…that.” he moans as he looks down at her, her head moving as steadily as she can, raising her hand to stroke what she can’t fit in her mouth. sucking on him like a lollipop, he lightly fists her hair, his nails lightly scratching her scalp.

she moans around his cock, her jaw aching but finding the pain worth it as she keeps trying to pleasure him. she looks up at him, making eye contact as she flutters her lashes, removing her hand and taking all of him into her mouth as she gags softly, ignoring the pain in her jaw and throat.

“oh god…such a dirty girl, you like having my cock in your mouth, baby?” he groans as she fists her hair a little tighter, she nods around his cock, moaning softly against it. he hisses at the feeling.

“so fucking close, princess. gonna cum in that pretty mouth and then…gonna cum in that pretty pussy.” he growls as she keeps up her pace with her head, basically deep throating him as the head of his cock meets the back of her throat.

she could come at just his words alone at this point, her pussy aching painfully and dripping down the inside of her thighs. she is determined at this point to let him finish inside of her mouth, she finds herself actually wanting his cum to slide down her throat.

with just a few more bobs of her head, he’s cumming into her mouth with a loud moan, gripping at her hair. seeing him come apart by just her mouth was enough to make her nerves disappear, he was so wrecked from just her mouth alone and it made her pussy tingle.

she eagerly swallowed his cum, swallowing all of it and pulling away from his cock with a small pop. he reached down with his thumb and wiped some of the saliva and his cum off of her lip and pushed it in her mouth. “mmm, good girl, baby.” he praises.

he gave her a second to gather herself before lifting her softly off of the pillow on the ground and laying her down on the bed. she hits her mattress and her comforter with a soft thud and bounces a little as he stands where she was just kneeling, kicking the pillow to the side by his feet.

he starts unbuttoning his shirt, getting fully undressed and kicking his shoes and socks off. his clothes joining her discarded ones on the floor. he then lets his blue eyes rake over her, looking from how hard her nipples are to the way your pussy is practically leaking onto the sheets below you.

he just can’t help himself, not when your involved. “baby, i’m gonna ask you something and please be honest with me.” he says in a soft but firm voice as he kneels in between her thighs, brushing some of her hair out of her face.

she just nods as she licks her puffy lips, letting him ask his question and giving him the go ahead that it was okay to ask.

“has anyone fucked you? ever?” he says with a small look over her eyes and the way her cheeks heated up to a perfect pink again. she shakes her head, “no, i’m a virgin. i’ve…i’ve done things but ive never…” she trails off and hopes that answer is good enough to satisfy him.

he groans and shakes his head, “jesus, princess.” he says with a low rasp as he leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek. “i’ll have to take extra care of you then, huh?” he says with a small smile against her lips, pressing a delicate kiss there.

she nods slowly, “i’ve trusted you enough to let you.” she whispers as she looks into his blue eyes, they were connected and yet they weren’t. the way his body came over hers and just protected her from the onslaught of nerves that bubbled beneath the surface.

his blue eyes soften and he nods slowly, the hand that’s not propping himself up by her head moves to cradle her cheek in a loving manner. “i know, baby. i’m gonna take such good care of you. make sure it’s nice for you.” he says with a ghost of a smile on his divine features.

she nods slowly, keeping eye contact as he reaches in between their naked bodies, grabbing his cock and rubbing it in between her slick and wet folds. she gasps softly when it catches her clit. “if it hurts,” he uses his other hand, balancing back on his knees above her on the bed.

he grabs her hand by her side, using the hand that he’s not stroking himself with to intertwine his fingers with hers. he lifts it by her head and leans forward again, his forehead resting against hers, “you squeeze three times on my hand. okay? and i’ll stop.” he says softly as he just lets his eyes flutter open and shut.

she nods in understanding, he continues to run his cock through her wet folds and coating his cock in her arousal. he presses a soft kiss to her lips and slowly notches the tip of his cock against her entrance.

she bites her lip in anticipation, waiting for the stretch and waiting for the pain that her friends had talked about for their first times. “relax. don’t tense up or it’ll hurt more.” he says softly as if he can read her mind.

she sighs softly against his lips and deeply inhales and exhales, attempting to relax her body and the hot rush of her blood beneath the skin.

he finally sticks the tip into her entrance, the stretch isn’t there yet, she can feel it. she can feel the burning fire in her belly. she doesn’t squeeze his hand that’s intertwined with hers on the bed, she just holds it and waits for him to slide in an inch, then another inch, and the burning is there.

it’s a stretch, it doesn’t hurt…not yet.

he keeps sliding in slowly but surely to make sure she’s okay, make sure she can take him. she takes slow breaths, letting his own mingle with hers in the small space between their lips. she feels him push more until he’s bottomed out within her.

if it wasn’t for his heavy breathing or the little aching stretch in her hymen, she wouldn’t have even known he was inside of her fully. “jesus…god…” he mumbles soft curses as he hovers his lips over hers.

“your pussy is gonna be the death of me. i swear to god.” he mumbles in a low groan as he just stayed still inside of her, the words making her clench instantly around him, he hisses and squeezes her hand, “don’t do that, or i’ll cum.” he grips.

she swallows and tries to ignore how he’s letting her grow accustomed to him inside of her, letting his dick stretch her out and make room for him. after a few minutes and just the sounds of their heavy breathing between them, she nods slowly.

“you can move. i’ll squeeze your hand if…if it hurts.” she manages to get out through a shallowed breath, he nods slowly. taking that as a sign to move his hips that are pressed against hers.

and god, help her. she was going to cum within minutes. the second he moved his hips, pulling out almost all the way and plunging back in, a steady pace that burned only slightly. the burn turned into pleasure as he kept moving his hips at a steady place, her moans soft and echoing through her bedroom.

she needed more, soon enough the heat within her became an insatiable desire. she needed it, craved it and she couldn’t believe she had denied herself of something so amazing for so long.

“deeper…more…” she moaned out as her eyes flutter shut and she gripped his intertwined hand beside her head. he almost growled against her lips, but not denying her, not for one second.

he lifts her legs, putting them around his hips and he grabs a pillow off of her bed, slipping it under her hips and then resuming his movements, only this time it was deeper and harder and he was hitting the spot her own fingers could never reach.

“leon!” she whined as she tilted her head back, he growled into her neck, pressing a kiss on her jaw as he groaned and slapped his hips repeatedly against hers. she’d be so sore tomorrow but it’d be so worth it.

“good…doing so good for me princess.” he says lowly in a whisper against her ear, goosebumps that shattered and battled with the climax rising in her belly. it had never felt like this before, felt so overwhelming and consuming.

she was so full of him, so drunk on his cock and the way it was hitting her g-spot every single time. god, she would build an alter for him after this or give him a raise. he deserved it.

the praise melted her brain and her pussy as she kept her eyes fluttering open and shut, her back arching into his. her hard nipples brushing against his chest as he pumped into her ruthlessly.

“fuck, so fucking…” he groaned into her ear and snapped his hips as if it would kill him if he didn’t make her cum, like it was his life’s mission. she whined, “cum…gonna cum…yes…” she cried loudly as he paused his movements and moved back, letting go of her hand and putting her thighs back until they were flush against her abdomen.

he hooked her ankles over his shoulders, putting her in a mating press and nailing her against the mattress. she almost screamed in pleasure, her skin was hot and she felt like she could burst into flames.

this angle…it was so delicious and she felt her climax get closer and closer…until…

“yes…” she moaned out loudly in a whine, her pussy clamping around his cock and cumming with a shudder, small pitiful noises that sounded nothing like her. he groaned and licked around her jaw and nipped, fucking her through her orgasm to chase his own.

“where do you want me to come baby?” he mumbles into her ear, a low drawl that made her pussy clench more. “inside…” she needed him too, she needed to feel it, just once. just one time.

he nipped at her jaw near her ear, “dirty little princess.” he drawls and she clenched the sheets between her hands beneath her. she whined, he just kept pumping into her, her trembling and shaking body was trying to hold onto the feeling.

“shh, im almost there sweet girl.” he says softly in a rasp as he pumps more and more until finally, he comes inside of her, his body slackening a little bit as if the last bit of his energy has been drained from him.

she can feel the warmth of his cum invading her womb and her pussy, it feels like heaven and she don’t know how she could not want to feel that. she saw him move back, pressing a kiss to her cheek, then her forehead and then her panting and flushed lips. his blue eyes drew back and he brushed some hair out of her face, gentle and tender she leaned into it.

“your all sweaty.” he says with a soft voice as his blue eyes rake over her face and her neck, to her bare collarbones. “here, hold on baby.” he says gently as he leans up onto his knees, carefully pulling his cock out of her entrance with a small pop.

“fuck me…” he mumbled as he looks down at his cum leaking out of her, their combined fluids leaking onto the crevice of her ass. he gently moved the pillow back from under her hips, causing her to mumble a groan.

“shhh, i got you, princess.” he says softly as he moves her legs back down to be comfortable and not pressed against her abdomen anymore. she smiles softly, her body melting into her sheets and comforter.

he gets up and grabs his boxers from the floor, pulling them over his stuff and depleting erection. he walks towards what she assumed was her bathroom attached to her bedroom. he grabbed a washcloth on the side of her sink, wetting it and coming back in.

he just sees her on the bed, her skin flushed and her naked contours against the sheets. she looks so heavenly with that blissed out expression on her face. he smiles and rounds the bed, crawling and bending her legs for her. he wipes the mess they made in between her legs. rubbing over her clit, causing her to hiss an attempt at smacking his hand.

“don’t. i’m just helping clean you up.” he says softly with some small reprimand. she sighs and blinks tiredly, “am i supposed to be so tired?” she asks in a grumble.

he chuckles and nods, “it’s normal.” he says with a small smile in her direction. he grabs the cloth in his hands, grabbing there discarded clothes off the floor, throwing them in her dirty clothes hamper, along with the cloth.

he then goes over to her dresser, pulling it open and one after another until he finds her pj drawer. he grabs her some underwear in the process, walking back over to the bed.

“sit up, baby.” he says gently as he taps her calf, she slowly follows his demand and sits up groggily. she’s pouty now and cute when she’s like this, he finds.

he slips the underwear onto her legs, letting her lift herself into it and putting them on her hips. he dresses her, putting a nightgown over her body. “come on,” he gestures towards the pillows at the head of the bed. she lazily sighs and moves her body until her head is resting on her pillows. he crawls in beside her ontop of the covers, pulling her so she’s half draped over him.

her lazy eyes closing and opening against his bare chest, “are you sore?” he whispers against her head. she shakes her head against his bare chest, “no, just tired.” she mumbles.

he nods and presses a kiss to the top of her head, rubbing a hand up and down her bare arm of the nightgown. “was i good?” she asks after a beat of silence, so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.

“you were beyond good, sweet girl. you were spectacular.” he whispers sweetly in a comforting timbre, his lips hovering over her head. she smiles and nuzzles her head more into his chest, speaking again. “i’m so glad i chose you.” she says before her eyes drift closed against his chest.

something bloomed in his heart, something that he had ignored so many times before in the month and a half he had been working for her.

it was love? wasn’t it? it wasn’t lust. it was something deeper and rawer and it went beyond his comprehension. but as he held her in his arms, he thought one thing: he was happy she had chosen him too.

an: y’all know the drill, reblog and like. my masterlist and my taglist are linked above at the beginning. pls follow for more, i love you all and i hope this oneshot made up for me taking so long to finally post something. i’m working slowly to get all my oneshots and requests out. i promise. just bear with me <33 i love you all so much, hope you guys enjoyed it all. sorry it’s so long (im not), love u all sm, kisses xx.

taglist: @heartsforvin @elihii @argreion @sqiim (let me know in my dms if u wanna join and it’s linked above as well)

#leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy au #re4 remake #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #re4 leon #leon kennedy x fem reader #re4 leon x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil smut

1K notes · View notes

coffee-and-geto · 29 days ago

Text

“WHO YOU GONNA CALL? CURSEHUNTER!”

“That’ll cost you 33,000 yens, ma’am.” “What?!” “Unless you offer other methods of payment. I’m flexible by nature, though.”

pairing: curse hunter! toji fushiguro x f!reader | kinkoctober m.list

summary: for halloween, you and your group of friends — where your boyfriend has taken a break from your relationship — decide to spend the evening in an old mansion turned into a hotel. with a rather strange staff and weird things going on in the mansion, everything leads you to end up calling a specialist to the situation — toji, the curse hunter for your evening can do his job, sure, but that doesn’t mean he’ll let you off the hook so easily when you can’t afford him…

warnings: +18 ONLY, smut, nsfw, AU with curses, haunted house, (slight) angst, cheating because the reader has an (ex) boyfriend but he’s a cheater, utahime makes an appearance, sex (p in v), squirting, oral (f! receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, fingering (f! receiving), overstimulation, lot of teasing, doggy + missionary positions, size kink.

wc: 5,963

“Wow!”

“It’s a really scary décor!” comments one of your friends, covering her mouth as her jaw drops in surprise.

“Same for the staff,” you add with a frown, glancing around at the spooky theme that’s everywhere—the walls, the bedrooms, even the kitchen and living room. But you can’t ignore how strange the staff in the lobby were when you all checked in for your rooms.

“Don’t be silly, it’s all part of the ambiance.” Your boyfriend nudges you playfully with his elbow, flashing his usual smirk, but this time it doesn’t work. You’re so tired of him.

“And she’s right,” snaps Utahime, who links her arm with yours to pull you further away from the annoying duo made up of one of your friends and your boyfriend. “But of course, coming from you…” She scrunches her nose, looking annoyed.

You sigh. “It’s fine, Hime, I can handle it—”

“This jerk needs a scare big enough to make him crap his pants, believe me,” she interrupts, gently tugging you along as she takes the lead to find your bedroom. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

You glance back toward the rooms of the others, including your boyfriend, then look forward with a disappointed pout. His attention should be on you, not anyone else—it should be shining like a star for you, not for some friend.

“Do you think the story about this manor is true?” you whisper when Utahime finally finds room 311-1.

She shakes her head but hurries to unlock the door, casting nervous glances at the dim hallway lights, which are anything but reassuring. “The point is to get us in the mood, obviously, but the staff went a bit too hard with the costumes…”

Finally, you both step into the room, where the soft, victorian decor makes your friend sigh with relief.

“At least the room itself isn’t weird,” she laughs, relaxing a little.

You smile faintly, taking in the shared bedroom. “Yeah, not too bad.”

In the next hour, the two of you have fun picking apart the manor’s ambiance, spinning wild theories about the place. Your mood lifts again, and since you already had dinner on the way here, at least you don’t have to worry about the creepy staff involving you in some haunted-house-style horror event.

Or worse, poisoning you.

But what a ridiculous idea, right?

There’s no reason for that. No one would do that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come.

~~~~

Why always you?

Of course. Your brain had to convince you, “No danger; they haven’t announced a Halloween night event yet!”

“You will be paired up in twos by random draw,” a staff member dressed as the Joker announces cheerfully, handing out small slips of paper with numbers and a map that looks much like a pirate’s treasure map, but is actually the hotel floor plan. “When you enter the first room — different for each pair — you’ll find an object and a riddle that will indicate which room is next.”

He bounces slightly in front of the reception desk, nearly giddy with excitement, which is unsettling given the blood-red lines around the corners of his mouth.

“This means that whoever finds the most hidden spots will win a prize at the end of the night,” he concludes, looking over your group one by one. “But be careful — this mansion has a spooky history, and some ghosts may come to visit!” He laughs, joined by a few others.

As you examine your number, you look around for your boyfriend, hoping to have drawn the same number so you can spend some time with him despite the break he recently put on your relationship. But no.

One of your friends — Nami, the one who’d commented on the decor — is already giggling beside him, paying no attention to you or the boundaries she’s crossing with her little “friendly” touches.

You inhale deeply, trying to ignore the sharp sting of jealousy. Just then, Utahime leans over your shoulder, checking your number. “Hey, looks like we’re together!”

You let a smile spread over your face and head with her to the first floor, where the first prize is hidden.

“I hope they didn’t hire any actors to scare us, or I might just hurt someone,” you mutter darkly, the dim lighting and ornate wallpaper in the hallways sending a chill down your spine.

“Same,” Utahime chuckles softly, pulling out a small flashlight. She switches it on and shines it ahead. “This should help, right? Check the map.”

You do, studying the hallway details on the paper to get your bearings. “Yeah, we’re close to room 456,” you say, looking up.

In a long walk that feels like it stretches out forever, Utahime and you move at the same steady pace, maintaining a comfortable distance, wrapped in silence as though no one else is on any floor.

“We’re here,” you announce as Utahime shines her light on the brass plaque for room 456.

You open the door carefully, flicking on the light, and catch a vague movement out of the corner of your eye near the edge of the sitting area. You snap your head in that direction, but there’s nothing.

“Did they set up special effects?” you wonder aloud.

“Probably,” Utahime reassures you, heading towards a bookshelf where a velvet-covered box with emerald and gold accents catches her eye. She grabs it, opening it to find a slip of parchment and a key.

You take a more careful look around the room, inspecting every corner, and almost miss what Utahime has found until she calls out to you.

“Next room, here we come!” she says happily.

~~~~

“Is it just me, or have we been walking for a while?” you remark after several minutes of silence, back in the hallway but on the second floor this time.

“Yeah, feels like it.” Utahime swings her flashlight around, lighting up the walls, curtains, and carpet in the dimly lit halls. It’s as if the already faint lights were growing even weaker.

BANG!

Both of you jump, turning in unison towards the unknown source of the noise.

“Fuck,” Utahime curses, “them and their damn effects.”

You exhale a shaky breath meant to calm your still-racing heart, but the cold breath on the back of your neck isn’t helping. “Utahime, is that you—” You turn to look at your friend, who’s cautiously moving closer to you, when a piercing female scream echoes throughout the hotel.

“Can we cancel this night?” Utahime doesn’t wait for your answer, grabbing your arm and dragging you into a frantic sprint down the corridors, where more and more doors seem to open and close on their own.

Then, suddenly, something grabs you by the arm, pulling you into the darkness.

When you finally open your eyes, you’re half-sprawled on the floor in partial darkness, with only the faint candlelight the hotel keeps in the eerie corridors as a precaution. You stand up immediately, pulling out your phone in an attempt to send a message to your friends’ group chat, but no one is active.

You then try to call reception, your eyes scanning an environment that no longer feels amusing in the slightest. This has to be part of the game.

Doesn’t it?

But after several rings, no one picks up.

“Goddamnit,” you mutter.

You resign yourself to finding a door, a room, or anything that could help you call the police or figure out a way to avoid getting caught by a real ghost in this creepy manor.

Your gaze scans the walls, your phone’s light barely illuminating the darkest corners due to its low battery. And the only thing that stands out is a notice pinned to the wall that has you scrambling to get your phone out again.

IN CASE OF EMERGENCY DURING THE HALLOWEEN HUNT, IF THE RECEPTION DOESN’T RESPOND, CALL THIS NUMBER:

You dial it, barely caring who it might reach given the seriousness of your situation.

After the second ring, someone picks up, their tone filled with mocking amusement and a hint of nonchalance:

“Hello?”

You’re saved.

~~~~

Back to square one — you’re anything but saved.

“This is the emergency response?” you spit out, feeling lost and baffled as you stand before a man approaching you about twenty minutes after a more-than-frustrating phone call.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with toned muscles and an arrogance that seeps from every pore of his skin.

“Toji Fushiguro, at your service, ma’am,” he replies sarcastically, giving a slight bow, a smug smile stretching the scar across his mouth.

“And you are…?”

“A curse hunter — don’t ask too many questions, I’m used to it,” he cuts you off, striding past without a glance. “Just follow me.”

You stand there, speechless, frozen to see if he’ll react, but he just keeps whistling and walking.

You were in deep trouble.

Reluctantly, you catch up, glaring at him coldly as he gives you a quick glance. “Do you have the money?”

“That’s really all you care about?” you retort bitterly. “Isn’t the hotel supposed to cover emergencies like this? We’re all lost, and—”

“Careful!!” Toji pushes you against the wall, pulling out a unique sword with a red and gold hilt and slashing it sharply through the air.

Nothing seems to have been hit at the moment, but the distinct sound of the slice is unmistakable.

“So, it wasn’t a joke when they said there were ghosts?”

“Curses,” he corrects, sheathing his weapon. He surveys the rest of the hallway and looks up at the ceiling. “They’re on the floor above.”

Several minutes later, you’re there, with high-pitched screams filling the air; among them, you recognize Utahime’s and some of your other friends. You start to rush to her, but Toji grabs you by the waist.

“Hold up!” he tuts, looking a bit more serious. “The lady stays here.”

“But my friend is in there!” you protest, struggling to break free.

“What a little firebrand!” Toji grumbles, pinning you against the wall. His warm breath brushes your face, and you hold back the urge to kick him. When he breathes in to speak, your intoxicating scent fills his nose. “I’m the pro here, got it? I’ll save your friend, and then we’ll talk about the price.” He releases you when you hold his gaze firmly enough to make him trust you.

“If anything happens to her, I’ll make you eat every one of your damn curses, okay?”

He snorts before disappearing down the corridor.

In the next hour, all the curses are quickly neutralized — even if no one actually sees them, their heavy, lingering “presence” was enough to give away what was happening.

“Most people went back to their rooms,” Toji informs you, guiding you toward your floor.

“That was fast.”

“As usual,” he sighs, hands in his pockets.

“Why isn’t the staff responding?” you ask, feeling more reassured and open to conversation now.

“It’s a real haunted manor, so they know that when you play, you just risk being bugged by the curses, nothing more.” He shrugs, pulling out his phone to check the time, and you mentally slap yourself for noticing how his forearm muscles flex slightly. “Plus those fuckers are never there on time to pay me, even though they require my services.”

“Oh, right, your payment…” You avert your eyes, walking past your room without entering. Maybe it’s best to go look for the staff…right?

“I only take cash,” Toji says, putting his phone away. “And I charge by the half-hour.”

You blink, swallowing nervously because you know you lied earlier on the phone when he told you the amount he typically earns per job.

“…Yeah?”

He chuckles softly, stopping to face you, while you do the same. Up close, he’s breathtaking — his emerald-green eyes, sharply defined jaw, his whole form could have been sculpted from ice.

“That’ll cost you 33,000 yens, ma’am.”

“What?!”

“Unless you’re offering alternative methods of payment. I’m flexible, by nature,” he adds ironically.

Your face falls, and you try to stay calm, knowing you’re in real trouble if he realizes you barely have enough for a can of soda.

“Great, so, I’m going to get paid by a pretty lady, huh?” he whispers, leaning in dangerously close until your back gently hits the wall.

“Can’t you lower the price?” you ask, slightly flustered, forcing a smile to hide the panic clutching at your insides. “Maybe my friends and I can work something out to pay you.”

“But it’s the one who calls who pays,” Toji coos softly, lifting a hand to play with a strand of your hair. “They didn’t ask for anything.”

“But they were saved,” you insist, feeling like a pleading child trying to avoid punishment.

Toji gently shakes his head, a barely-there smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t you have a boyfriend? Maybe he’ll take care of it, then.”

“Yes, but…” You feel a chill at the mention of your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen since the start of the evening, “we need to find him. He’s probably asleep.”

“Describe him to me, I’ll tell you if he’s around,” Toji murmurs, and his words feel like a subtle threat as you describe him. His brow furrows. “You sure?”

“Yes, why?” Suddenly, your heart starts pounding faster.

What’s with that reaction?

He doesn’t respond, darting off down the hallway without waiting for you to catch up — though you do, anyway. It’s as if each step drives a knife deeper into your chest.

Please, don’t tell me they—

You freeze, stopping in front of a room with a slightly open door, where your boyfriend is indeed present.

But he’s not alone.

Perched above him on a sofa is Nami, straddling him, passionately kissing him. The worst part is seeing them smile at each other without noticing you, your boyfriend’s hands gently stroking his “friend’s” hips.

“They have been here since I came.”

You flutter your eyes closed.

Toji stands silently beside you. “So, he’s cheating on you, or am I wrong?” he murmurs, perhaps also feeling uncomfortable at the sight.

You step back, your chest tight, biting your lip. You hold back tears of both anger and hurt. It stings a thousand times more seeing your partner betray you like this rather than just admitting he no longer loves you, doesn’t it?

You look up at Toji, your eyes likely already red and gleaming.

No, this is definitely anger. You just want to let some curse devour him whole.

“I don’t have the money, sorry,” you admit through clenched teeth, turning on your heel to leave. “Do whatever you want; I don’t care anymore.”

“Hey.” He loosely grabs your wrist, stopping you.

You barely turn back. You’re hurt, yes, but also furious that you didn’t end things with your boyfriend yourself. What a shame, right? It should’ve been you hurting him, not him hurting—

“You know what I see?” Toji takes a few steps toward you, a mocking smile on his lips. He leans in to speak near your ear, his well-built chest brushing against yours. “I see someone filled with rage. You want revenge, don’t you?”

But you’re in no mood to laugh.

He sighs, realizing his attempt at humor fell flat. “Alright, alright. Listen.” He stands in front of you, hands still in his pockets as he leans against the wall. “I’m not the best at comforting people, but… how about a deal?”

You blink.

“We’re both in an… awkward situation, you see. I need to get paid, and you’re on the brink of committing murder.” A smile spreads across his lips.

You still don’t smile.

“So,” he looks down, a bit distracted and uncomfortable despite his smug expression, “I wasn’t totally joking when I said I’d accept other forms of payment. Plus, I think your lil’ guy here needs someone to teach him a less—”

But you cut him off instantly, grabbing the collar of his black T-shirt with both hands and pulling him toward you to crush your lips against his.

Toji, surprised for a second, quickly recovers, gripping your hips to pull you impossibly closer, his lips following yours, attempting to soothe the fury they carry in anger.

He moves backward with you, eyes closed as he pushes open another slightly ajar door to a room, kicking it shut behind him. He pulls back, watching you intently.

Your gaze softens oddly as it meets his. He raises an eyebrow, almost repeating his question from a minute ago, and you nod. “I accept,” you murmur, and his face lights up.

Leaning toward you again, his lips capture yours in another heated kiss that ignites with raw desire. “Fuck. What kind of boyfriend he is, huh?” Toji growls between breathless kisses. “With a girlfriend with lips this sweet, hmm?”

Your feet tangle with his, each step unsure, trying to avoid falling anywhere other than the softness of the couch. You gasp, trying to catch your breath, but everything about Toji makes breathing impossible. “Toji, you—”

“Bet he’s got a small one, doesn’t he?” The blush flooding your face makes him smirk, his scar brushing your jaw as his mouth descends to your pulse. “Knew it.” He nips at your shoulder, his tongue darting out to leave a mark that’ll remind you of him for a good while.

“Toji, please—” you sigh, wincing in pleasure as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your neck, leaving two hickeys in his wake. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle the sweet sounds spilling out — especially when he brings his knee up between your legs, rubbing it sloppily against your heated core.

“Let ’em out, doll,” he mutters, his hands roaming across your chest slowly before he yanks, popping the buttons off and exposing your bare skin to him. “I want him to hear just how good I make you feel, how loud I can make you scream my name.”

He doesn’t even give you time to protest; he’s already unclasping your bra and kneading your soft breasts, leaving you arching with pleasure from his teasing alone. And if his hands can do this... what about his cock?

He takes his time, pinching and rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. You moan for real this time, back arching, chest heaving with quickened breaths. “Ahh— Wan’ more,” you whine, the sound going straight to his strained, clothed arousal.

“Am I the one who’s supposed to be saying that?” Toji laughs, enjoying the sight of you squirming and pouting under his teasing, his tongue swirling and rolling over one breast while his fingers toy with the other.

“Toji.”

He lifts his head, pulling his mouth from your breast with a wet pop and tilting his head to the side, that devilish grin still on his lips. “What is it, doll?” He doesn’t even bother wiping away the thin string of saliva connecting his lips to your sensitive nipple.

You writhe beneath him, trying to shimmy off your pants, but the tight space between you two makes the task more challenging than expected.

He chuckles — a rough sound — and grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head, trapping you beneath him. “Getting needy, are we? Looks like you need a hand,” he coos, sliding his thick fingers down your bare chest before slipping the tip of his finger under your waistband.

The touch is electrifying. Both infuriating and warm, as Toji tests your patience.

With his finger still just inside your clothing, he trails it down to your hips before stopping. “Lift your hips for me.” You obey, his low “good girl” making your poor core clench around nothing. His finger is soon joined by the rest of his hand, and he easily slides it down to remove your pants in one smooth motion. “There you go…”

“When I said I wanted more, I meant here,” you mumble, glancing down at the small damp patch in the center of your panties, so exposed for him.

“Naughty, huh?” Toji releases your wrists, kneeling down between your thighs. He grips your hips tightly, his thumbs pressing firmly, leaving slight indents in your skin. “So pretty, so soft,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your inner thighs, kissing and nibbling until you’re gasping.

“You— You’re teasing,” you pant, burying your fingers in his dark hair, tugging lightly when he brushes his nose against your puffy clit through the damp fabric.

“I am,” he admits, laying the flat of his tongue over the wet patch before inhaling. “Smells and tastes so good, doll.” And your cheeks go flush again as he quickly strips your panties off and tosses them onto the couch’s headrest.

“Sh-shut up!”

“You’re adorable when I get dirty with you, but you’re just as dirty, so don’t,” he says, wrapping his sculpted arms around your hips and pulling you against his face. “try to turn the tables,” he finishes, his voice muffled between your drenched folds. “Wonder why that jerk cheated on you,” he adds, lapping at your clit as you let out needy whimpers.

“Shit. Easy, I’m sensitive,” you babble, digging your nails into his shoulder as he starts devouring you with real intent.

“Love those sounds, by the way,” he murmurs, sucking on your sweet bundle of nerves, ignoring the persistent ache in his pants as his cock begs to be freed, desperate to plunge deep inside you.

Your eyelids flutter closed, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, trying to keep Toji’s name from spilling from your mouth as he tightens his grip on you, practically smashing your soaked core against his face but the way his lips close everytime around your clit with slowness is just unbearable.

Sounds of heavy breaths, licks, and wetness fill the room, turning the atmosphere almost sauna-like. Your pulse pounds in your temples, your heartbeat frantic.

“You’re still not loud enough.” And he remedies that quickly, pressing his nose against your clit as he slowly thrusts his tongue inside you, your walls clenching around it with lewd, wet sounds because of how slick you are for him. And now, he’s thrusting his tongue even deeper, humming in approval when you throw your head back, tugging harder on his dark locks.

“Shit! Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” you cry out, toes curling as your nails dig into his skin before scratching it up.

“That’s it,” he purrs, helping you buck your hips against him as you mewl and moan thanks to his tongue. “Let him hear how good ya feel, yeah?” He brings a hand to your clit to rub it gently, then pinches it roughly. He bullies your snug cunt with each deep and precise thrust of his tongue, brushing your sweet spot every time, and you’re sure you’ll die if you don’t come right after.

And he probably knows it, because as if reading your mind, he withdraws his tongue from your twitching insides and licks his lips shamelessly — your glossy juices shining on them.

“Wanna hear how good you feel louder, doll, ’kay?” He brings a finger to your trembling entrance, pressing gently against the delicious barrier just waiting to be crossed. “You’re so close, baby,” he chuckles, eyes dilated with desire. “Hear me out, I’m gonna make you cum, and you’re gonna be a good girl. Understood?” He gently pats your thigh.

You nod, lips trembling from anticipation, eyes half-closed as he inserts his forefinger into you — and now you’re even tighter with his digit replacing his tongue. How would it feel with something bigger? The pad of his finger hits your sensitive g-spot right away.

“Ah!” you whine. The knot in your stomach coils tighter, ready to explode. “Toji, I’m almost cumming, please, just—”

He cuts you off, a low grunt escaping his lips as he crashes his mouth on your clit, treating it like a toy and bullying it over and over until you can’t stop your legs from shaking uncontrollably — as he finger-fucks you and sucks on your oversensitive clit.

“Fuck! Feels s’good, Toji, please,” you moan, your insides throbbing around his finger, while his second finger joins the first, finger-fucking you as you squirm on the couch, feeling the wet patch under your ass marking the mess you’re making.

“Cum, doll, now,” Toji orders, his voice strained, unable to ignore the throbbing in his own pants. His mouth is relentless on your clit, his fingers curling inside you just right, as if coaxing your body to surrender completely.

Right at the edge, you wrap your legs around his neck, sobbing out his name as you cum — hard. Your walls clamp down around his fingers, your body trembling as you release.

Your boyfriend never made you cum this hard, not even close.

You realize you actually squirted when you hear Toji swallowing, his eyes fluttering closed as he drinks every drop, even as your body keeps spasming after he finally pulls his fingers out of you.

When your breathing slows, Toji pulls back from your thighs, looking up to meet your gaze after the powerful orgasm he just brought you to.

“Tell me…” He licks the last traces of you off his chin, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Is that the first time you’ve squirted?” he asks, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your oversensitive clit.

You bite back a whimper, trying to steady your trembling legs. “Y-Yeah,” you confess, swallowing hard, noticing his black shirt dampened with your cum. “I didn’t mean to make that mess, I’m sorry—”

“Why’re you apologizing?” He kisses your inner thigh, soothing your shakiness with soft caresses. “The only one who should be begging for forgiveness is the jerk in the other room,” he mutters in a low, rough voice. The contrast between his tender kisses and harsh words about your boyfriend makes your heart skip a beat. “I bet he’s crying like a lil’ boy,” he chuckles.

You force a smile, though there’s still a slight sting from the betrayal. “He should be, yeah.”

His expression softens. “C’mon, doll, don’t give me that look,” he sighs, rising from his crouched position to remove his pants. “Just forget him, even if it’s hard, hmm?” He ignores the growing bulge in his boxers, leaning down to kiss you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

You hum, kissing him back slowly, eyes closed. With each kiss, you feel a warmth, a tenderness there that surprises you. Why do his lips feel so gentle, so... caring? A feeling you can’t quite place?

Between kisses, you take soft breaths, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. He doesn’t resist, his tongue teasing along your soft, warm lips.

“Want to stop?” he murmurs, his voice unexpectedly soft and low.

You flutter your eyes open and shake your head. “I’d like to continue, if you don’t wanna stop,” you mutter back.

His gaze softens more, seeing you beneath him, flushed and vulnerable. “Of course. I don’t think I could stop even if I tried… especially not with…” His gaze drops, his cheeks flushing slightly, “...this.”

You glance down at his painfully hard length pressing against his boxers, the small wet patch testifying to how badly he wants you.

“Mm, sorry,” he grumbles.

But you gently cup his face, pulling him into another kiss as you reach down to slip his boxers off. He helps you free him from his strained confines, and you both share a heated kiss. Toji leans over you, leaving soft kisses along your lips, cheeks, jaw, and down your neck.

The tender moment gradually heats up as impatience grows, your legs tangling with his. When something warm brushes your stomach, you shiver, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist.

His size… he’s big. His cock is thick and already straining, eager to be buried deep inside you.

“Can you fuck me?” you whisper, blinking up at him with soft, pleading eyes.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Toji chuckles, a low rumble shaking his chest.

He grabs you by the hips, laying you down on the couch to position you as he aligns himself at your entrance. Toji takes his cock in his hand and guides it to you, so big compared to your cute, petite pussy that’s about to take all of him in so well…

When the flushed tip of his cock brushes against your soaked folds, you hold your breath to keep from moaning even before he’s begun. But Toji can be a bastard in his own way — drawing slow, torturous circles around your puffy clit, then sliding down to gather your juices from between your folds, which he spreads apart to make room for him.

“As honest as you,” he scoffs, gently tapping your tight ring of resistance with the tip. He looks down at you, your form much smaller than his — Toji is big all over, from his muscles to his cock, and all he wants is to ruin your smallness.

And this bastard keeps eye contact, teasing the entrance with his slick tip, just to watch you break — your lips parted, eyes slightly squinted, hands weakly gripping him.

“Toji,” you moan weakly, squirming gently. “Please, just more, please.” And your voice is so soft, so velvety, he might have come right then.

Oh God, you’ll be the death of him.

And as if it wasn’t enough, you keep repeating his name in that same tone, making his urge to slip inside you unbearable.

“Fuck, doll, don’t moan my name like that or—” But you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling his tip to your dripping entrance so that it’s already inside, your gummy, warm walls tightening around him, drawing him in deeper.

“I wanna take it,” you whine softly, bucking your hips forward, your snug cunt swallowing half of him. “Oh—”

“Ah— Shit,” Toji hisses, leaning down to press your small body against his, burying his face in your neck. But the worst part is, he seems to lose control of his body, which thrusts deeper into you on its own, your clingy walls gripping him tightly from the start.

He stretches you too quickly, but it feels so good you wonder if you might be ovulating. “Ah— Oh— Fuck, s’deep, s’big,” you babble, low and cute mumbles, as you curl your toes and roll your eyes back from his size. “Too big, Toji, too big.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” He pushes in even deeper until you’ve taken all of him and his tip brushes your womb.

Without even moving, he nearly came. But he has to hold back. To make you come on his cock, fuck you senseless, and let you scream his name so that the entire manor knows you’re his.

“Mine,” Toji groans, thrusting gently into you once you’ve adjusted, his hips meeting yours perfectly. “So wet f’me.” His breathing becomes ragged, his thoughts consumed by how impossibly tight you are. “And so fuckin’ tight.” He speeds up the pace a little, reveling in the sound of your mewls growing louder. “Gonna make you mine tonight, ’kay?”

In the room, only the squelching sounds and the slap of skin against skin fill the air. Your mind spins, the pleasure so intense and overwhelming that you can barely respond to what Toji says.

You’re reduced to a pile of whimpers, thinking only of TojiTojiTojiToji.

And he knows it, especially as you tighten around him and he lets out a guttural groan. His hips pound into you with more speed and roughness, but it’s still not enough. He wants you to fall apart for him when you cum, fucking your little pussy with his big, big cock.

Such a filthy size kink.

Then he pulls out, grabbing your hips to flip you over onto your stomach, making sure the plush cushions support you properly, and he slams back in, pounding rougher, deeper, and so much better than a second ago.

Now, you feel him at a depth you’ve never reached before, your sweet cunt clinging to him each time he pulls out only to push in just as deep. “Ah! So deep, so deep, Toji,” you sniffle, unable to keep your moans quiet any longer. “Wanna cum, gonna cum with you.” You bury your face between two cushions.

The heat between your two bodies is almost unbearable, small beads of sweat rolling down Toji’s toned chest as he chuckles, half-breathless, leaning over you to sink even deeper.

And you wonder how it’s even possible.

“You take it so well, doll,” he purrs, tightening his grip around your waist as your twitching insides pulse around his cock, right on the edge of making him spill his hot load inside you. But the rhythmic slap of his heavy balls against your clit is enough to keep him from the edge, for now. “You want to be filled up? Say it, baby. I don’t— No, he can’t hear you,” he chuckles, kissing your neck as the depth makes you see stars through tears of pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine louder, “wanna be full of your cum, please, Toji.” His thick, heavy balls are now the biggest turn-on, so big you just want to drain them to fill yourself up. “I’m close, so close,” you sob, pleading with him.

“Me too, doll, so let’s cum together, yeah?” he chortles, because, God, how small and cute you are. He admires, for a moment, the hickeys covering your skin and the scratches you left on his arms. He’s fucking you like a mad, possessed man.

You sniffle, nodding and writhing to take him fully, but you already have. Your wet, tight, warm cunt swallowing him up, desperate for every inch. He’ll fulfill his mission. Even if he wasn’t paid, he stopped caring about that long ago. Now he just wants youyouyou.

And as your synchronized hip movements, bringing the both of you to the edge, you cum hard again. Your sweet pussy clenches around his length, swallowing and milking him as your shaky legs can’t support you anymore. A cry of pleasure escapes you. Toji shuts his eyes, moaning your name as he empties himself inside you, filling your womb with his thick, sinful load.

Only stolen breaths, the overwhelming scent of sex, and small whimpers remain in the aftermath. Silence falls, all troubles vanish, and the night finally grows peaceful.

You wipe away the dried tear tracks on your cheeks and turn your head slightly to meet Toji’s calm gaze. “What about my shirt?”

“I’ve got a spare; want it?” he offers, not pulling out right away. You simply nod, and he adds with a smirk, “An’ if you’re free tonight, you’re up for a little getaway with me?”

“But Utahime and—”

“They’ll wake up like nothing happened, I promise,” Toji reassures you, and you grin.

“Deal.”

~~~~

Meanwhile, back in the room with Nami and your ex, a 4 grade curse — harmless but just annoying enough — flits around happily. Nami is fast asleep on the floor, but your ex has dark bags under his twitching eyes, having not slept a wink.

Between your cries of pleasure and everything else that went on, he understood that the mysterious man who had come to “rescue” them was thoroughly enjoying everything he’d been hoping to do with you for weeks, despite your refusals — the reason behind your “break” or rather, breakup. The curse, left by Toji on purpose, has a parrot effect: it repeats everything it hears in a loop, driving anyone nearby mad.

“Ah! Shit, Toji! Feels so good!” it shrieks in a piercing voice, buzzing around your ex’s head like a fly.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

a/n: hey everyone :) so okay okay, this fic contains much more smut than i usually write (hope at least it’ll be worth it haha). i still feel bad about having missed kinkoctober but anyway, at least we’re here <3 i’ve struggled a bit with the start of the fic but the smut was (for once lol) quite easy to write. happy reading <33

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobeenhappy-blog @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq

@sanemistar @monokaix

410 notes · View notes

codnriddlewhore · 2 months ago

Text

Don't do this | a Tom Riddle oneshot

A/N: HII soo this is my first attempt at fics, dont hesitate to say anything, good or bad

k have fun :))

tags: professor tom riddle/professor reader, marriage, angst, horcruxes, sorry if i forget any

wc: 1,584

They've been together, inseparable for 3 years, married for 2 and a half.

Tom saw her as an equal as much as someone like him could, she entranced his very being. They talked about subjects he was interested in, in a very objective and intelligent way and he was in awe when he realised he found a match, someone that could understand his fascinations and obsessions. She mostly didn't share them but she was open, he could ask her at 2 in the morning which one of the unforgivable

curses she'd use to get information from someone and she'd genuinely give it some thought.

Her fascinations lay more in the zoological department, muggle and magical. She spent hours in forests and jungles, the beings holding her attention for hours. Though, like Tom, she found it hard to open up to people and find like-minded individuals not just regarding creatures but life in general. When he asked to come with her on one of her shorter research-trips, she felt her body and sould levitate. Her greatest wish has always been to grow old with someone loving by her side, someone who she'd love back with her whole self. Is it him? She hoped so and prayed every night.

He felt the same when she asked about his sketches and faveorite books. Tom Riddle, the usually selfish and greedy man, suddenly interested in the eccentric and always joyful zoology professor? He cursed himself for it, a good 5 months before talking to her for the first time.

Now she is staying at his home in the country, a dark penthouse by the sea. To be specific, it is not as dark now, he found that she brought more light into it than any possible lamp.

As dreamy as this may sound, but like in every married life, there's always small and petty arguments. Like now, her sitting in bed and reading, not giving him half an ounce of attention while he looked at her from the doorframe.

He mentioned horcruxes and the sheer idea of immortality a few times, even on the day they met, but she simply laughed it off. Who would want to be soulles? It seemed absurd.

But yesterday evening, when he explained that he wants to go through with his plan of doing so, she couldn't bare to give him more than a gulp and ignorance. He was being mean.

"Apologise, so we can spend at least the evening as a couple. It's cold to sleep without you in my arms." Tom meant it genuinely, but his tone was rough. He didn't understand her problem.

She simply kept on reading, like he didn't even exist. He groaned in annoyance and that did it.

"I'm sorry, did my back damage your knife in any way? Do excuse me", he winced and didn't know if it was because of her closing her book shut loudly or her words. Probably the latter.

"What do you mean?"

She exhaled in confusion. Did he actually not see the problem?

"Tom. You outright told me that you want to split your soul from your body and divide it into 7 different parts. Oh and that you want to live forever. Do you not understand why I'm upset?"

"I'm going to be honest, no, I don't. I find you're being ridiculous, this is a marvelous discovery. "

"Well it is, which on the other hand doesn't mean you have to partake in it!" she says as she sits up straighter in the bed.

He sees that and mirrors her reaction, standong up straight and putting his hands in the pockets of his pyjama pants.

"Why not? It would help me be more focused on my work and goals and I wouldn't be occupied with unnecessary matters."

"Like me?" His wife didn't know if she regretted saying that, but it came out in the same second he ended his sentence.

Quiet.

"Don't do this. Of course not like you, you matter a huge deal. This would benefit me in every part of my life, I'd be the most powerful wozard that ever lived. There's been noone else more powerful than Death in the history of wizardry and it could be your husband, how are you not the least bit proud?"

"Proud!? You want me to be proud!? What else should I do, throw you a party and congratulate you on a life of pure damnation!?"

She was now standing approximately 1 horizontal man away from him, on a good way to become furious.

"Damnation? I hope you mean admiration and being seen with respect, fear and devotion for the rest of time."

"Tommy?" She only called him that when she felt truly helpless or frustrated.

"Yes darling?"

Her voice went almost inaudible, "Where am I in that wonderful way of living you so dream of?"

"By my side." He was sure of that and knew he needed her in this. She'd be his queen in the whole thing.

She breaks into a series of scoffs, some distrustful and some humorous, she found the situation quite absurb. What were they even discussing?

"I'll age! I'll age and be old and grey and wrinkly and youll still be thirty! It'll look ridiculous."

Was it embarrassing he hadn't thought of that?

"There's plenty of spells to slow down aging." Stupid Riddle.

"Great Havens. If we put that aside, what about your soul? You'll be a shell of the man you truly are. How do you explain that?"

"What? Thats foolish, I'll be myself!"

"You'll be a soulless man! Only goal driven and shutting out everything else! We'll never again talk about life and the universe late at night, you'll never again appreciate me making you tea when you forget the time in your study and we'll never joke about the future and raising an army of baby wizards who we'll name after the imaginary friends we had as children. We'll never go to the city again and you'll never pick out a flower I adore and buy it behind my back to surprise me later although I'd always catch you and we'll never buy cheesy and ironic books for each other in that beautiful old book store we love. Now call me crazy and soft, but I happen to cherish these things."

It was hard to look him in the eyes during saying all that, but she needed to get her point across. She also despised herself for tearing up at this very moment, walking towards him with a pointed finger.

"Tommy, I swore to support and love you in everything you do, but- but taking the soul of the man I love from me-", she hesitated, wanting to stop her voice from breaking and breath from hitching.

He gulped. This was unfair.

"Don't do this."

"-taking that; now that's too much for me. I can't stand behind that."

"You're being cruel."

"I'm not the only one."

That stung, it stung them both at the same time. In the end, they were both just people. She was now standing very few inches infront of him, pointing at his chest, barely holding herself together.

"You know what? Do it. I wont stop you or hold you back. That was never my goal."

"I don't understand. Forst you can't stand behind it then you say go ahead."

"If this makes you happy, what I truly doubt, you'll do it without me."

That made his dinner almost come up slightly, it was never an option.

"You can't just leave now, you know I love you. Do you not love me anymore? Is that what you're trying to say?", he knew it spounded mean but he hoped to get the point across, he was genuinely wondering.

"Oh don't twist this. I'll always love you with every part of me, body, soul, mind and all, as long as I live, that's why I can't-

that's why I can't watch you do this..."

"So what are you going to do? Just leave? You know you can't do that." He didn't quite believe that she would. Was it cowardly to start a fight rather than comfort her or express his own feelings? He'd have to look into that.

She breathed in, deeper than ever before. It was important that she stays collected now.

"Fine. I'll leave when you do it. That way you wont miss me."

Tom Riddle never got dizzy, he was too aware of his surroundings for that. Yet, now he was holding onto the doorframe next to him with such strength, that his knuckles turned paper white. He was also afraid to touch her, even breath in her direction, because she might fully disappear already.

"You can't...you can't be serious..." It was more of a whispered plea than a threat.

She on the other hand, felt that she needed to touch him or else this stupid boat of too many emotions for both of them would sink to the bottom of the deepest point in the ocean. His cold cheeks warmed at the touch of her palms. In that very moment he also exhaled briefly, still finding deep-rooted comfort in her, even at this time. Her eyes filled with tears, to the brim this time and she ignored them, it was no time to sob now. Her right hand caressed his hair; like it was any other moment they shared before.

"I'm sorry Tommy. I really wanted us to get grey and wrinkly together."

to be continued...

#professor tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #angst tom riddle #tom riddle oneshot #oh my ao3 is hazzascheese btw its on there too

507 notes · View notes

cameronspecial · 9 months ago

Note

Soft!Reader tying a bow to Rafe’s biceps 🤭🎀 (he acts all tough but he secretly loves it hehe)

Bow

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.4K

Summary: Y/N has a new hobby that she loves to use to decorate everything.

Masterlist

Tying ribbon to everything has become Y/N’s new obsession. She spends hours going to different craft stores with Rafe in tow to look at every single option, leaving them with multiple rolls that have caught her eye. Rafe would go to sleep and wake up to every possible thing decorated with a bow, all because his girlfriend found a tutorial on how to make the perfect bow. Her purse. Her hairbrush. The fridge handle. The TV remote. His car keys. His backpack. They are all adorned in various styles of ribbons. He even finds one on the flip lid of his passenger seat’s mirror. Eventually, she runs out of places to add her ribbons and Rafe can tell it dampens her mood.

They are currently at Topper’s house. The boys are working out, while Y/N occupies her time by bow-ifying the workout equipment in Topper’s home gym. “Hey, Y/N/N. Is it really necessary to put it on everything?” Topper inquires, regretting it as soon as he sees her smile fall and Rafe’s glare. Her gaze falls with a frown, “No. It’s not. I’m sorry. I can take them down.” She picks up her scissors and uses them to remove her ribbons, making sure to preserve the bows. She is putting everything in her purse when the boys join her on the couches. Rafe throws a sweaty arm around her shoulders to bring her to his side. She shrieks and pulls away from her boyfriend’s hold. She turns towards him, catching a look at the way his thick biceps glisten because of the sweat and light. Her intrusive thoughts win and she wraps a pink sparkly ribbon around his arms. He freezes under the pressure with his eyebrows knitted together. “What are you doing?” he grumbles. She tugs the loops of the bow before moving on to his other arm, “All prizes have a ribbon to show that they are the winner. I’m giving your most prized possession what they need.” His hardened gaze doesn’t let up as he looks at the glitter now falling on his skin. “This is ridiculous, Baby,” he complains, taking his arm out of her hands.

Again, her eyes fall to the ground and he can feel her insecurity creeping in. “What I mean is the thought of my arms being my most prized possessions is ridiculous because that title belongs to you, Baby,” he clarifies, taking the ribbon out of her hands to give her a headband and kissing her forehead once he finishes. “Now, we are matching.” She gazes up at him with a smile. He isn’t going to lie to himself. He loves the ribbon wrapped around his bicep. It is giving him an ego boost that his girl thought they were nice enough to be decorated. “I love it. Thank you, Rafey,” she whispers. An objection can be heard coming from Topper, “Excuse me. I think I deserve a ribbon for my obviously superior pythons."

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

1K notes · View notes

girlgenius1111 · 3 months ago

Text

throw it all away part 2

part 2 of 2 :) [putellas!reader] just because she knows, now, doesn't mean the path to recovery is straightforward. alexia struggles to help you the way you need. you struggle to even want help. tw: this is a fic about r struggling with an ED. proceed with caution.

—

The protein shake glass sat empty in front of you when Alexia walked into the kitchen. Olga was in the chair next to you, rubbing your back slowly. There were tears running down your face, but your expression was stony.

Alexia took the seat next to you without a second thought, pulling you into her side. “I’m proud of you.”

“I hate myself.” You murmured, almost against your will. “This shouldn’t be so hard. It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” Alexia objected. “It’s okay. This happens, it’s normal, pequeña.”

You looked at her strangely, pulling away from her embrace and your sister winced at her own words, scrambling to fix her mistake. “I just mean this is how you’re supposed to feel. In recovery, this is normal. It’s going to be hard, but you just have to push through and-”

“Ale,” Olga interrupted, shaking her head gently.

Alexia looked back at you, falling silent as she did so. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, or maybe anger, and you were staring at the plate in front of you like it had personally harmed you. The blonde couldn’t take the look on your face, wanted more than anything to just say the right thing and have all the answers for you, and she started blabbering again before she could stop herself.

“You did a really good job finishing your protein shake-”

At this, you rolled your eyes, and Alexia started talking faster.

“-maybe we can get your favorite takeout for dinner? The pasta place you like, with the– ow, Olga.”

Again, Alexia fell silent, rubbing her arm where her girlfriend had elbowed her. Olga was shooting her a look and your sister sighed, rubbing at her forehead with her hand. Obviously discussing food was a no go, she should know better than that. She thought hard, trying to think of anything that would make you feel better, get rid of the horribly sad frown on your face.

“Maybe you can come to training tomorrow and watch! So you don’t miss out on too much, and-”

“Alexia, for the love of god, shut up.” You snapped, throwing your hands up in the air and rising from your chair.

“Pequeña, I’m just trying to-”

“You don’t want me to miss out on too much training, I got it. Football is the most important thing. I know that, Alexia. I know. I know I’m fucking my season right now, I know I’m fucking the team, so please just, for once, stop talking about fucking football.”

Alexia couldn’t help the hurt that panged in her chest, or the pained look she was sure flashed across her face. You felt guilt split your chest open at the sight, but you pushed that away, trying to hold onto your anger, which was quickly fading.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You turned to walk out of the room, but Olga’s voice behind you made you freeze in your tracks.

“Nena? Can you leave the door open a crack please?”

You felt everything inside of you seize up at her words, shame and frustration and embarrassment and hurt welling up, until a few tears fell down your cheeks. God, you hated that they knew. They didn’t even know but they knew, and that was awful. Incomparably, singularly awful.

“Why does she have to– oh.” Alexia said. She hadn’t really considered that as a possibility. She thought you just weren’t eating. This seemed… worse, somehow. When you turned around to look at her, you could tell she thought it was worse.

“Yeah.” You agreed, turning back around and practically stomping out of the room.

As soon as you were gone, Alexia turned to her girlfriend. “How did you know she was… doing that?”

Olga exhaled heavily, leaning back in her chair. The two of you were going to give her a migraine, but she didn’t really blame you. Alexia on the other hand…

“I didn’t. I wasn’t sure, but I asked her to leave the door open just in case. Her reaction, though… she is.”

“Oh.” Alexia mumbled, unconsciously reaching for her girlfriend’s hand. Olga pulled away with a shake of her head, sitting up straighter in her chair.

“Ale, you have to relax. Talking her ear off isn’t helping right now, she’s already overwhelmed.”

“I’m just trying to help!”

“I know you are, amor, but you have to think about how she’s feeling right now,”

“But I don’t know how she’s feeling! I want to, but I don’t understand! I can’t understand. Keeping your body healthy is the most important thing in football, and I don’t understand why she’s done this, because I would never do this. How am I supposed to help if I don’t understand? I can’t, Olga. I can’t fix this.”

Both women were speaking too loudly to hear your footsteps returning to the kitchen, though you paused just outside the doorway, catching the end of your sister’s sentence.

I can't fix this. she'd said.

I can’t understand.

I would never do this.

How am I supposed to help?

It sounded like she’d already given up on you. She’d decided she couldn’t understand, couldn’t help, and it was all your fault. For pushing away her attempts to help earlier, snapping at her when you knew she was just trying to make you feel better. You felt like a lost cause, but now she felt that way about you too.

You took a deep breath, walking back into the kitchen before Olga could reply. You looked oddly pale and shaky, and though it was because you’d overheard your sister and misunderstood, Ale didn’t know that. She glanced over at you, doing a double take as her eyes widened.

“Nena, did you…?”

Next to the blonde, Olga suppressed a sigh. You blinked at her for a second, confused, before recoiling backwards, a scowl etched onto your face. “No. I left the door open like you told me to, and I didn’t do anything.”

Alexia relaxed, just barely, clearly about to say something else that would be entirely wrong when Olga spoke first.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a little bit, pequeña? It’s been a long day, you must be exhausted and overwhelmed.”

Your sister nodded her agreement, and you felt your heart sink even further if possible. Of course they didn’t want to deal with you anymore today. You didn’t say you’d rather be with them, because the loneliness would be almost too much to bear. You just nodded, eyes fixed on the hardwood floor under you as you turned and left the room once more.

—

Alexia felt slightly more prepared to talk to you when she knocked on your door a half hour later. She’d done some quick research, compiling another list in her head of what to say and what not to say. She’d tried to convince Olga to go up and check on you instead of her, because all the midfielder seemed to be able to do today was mess up, but Olga had insisted that it be Alexia. You needed your sister, and Alexia needed to make up for the absolute disaster she’d been earlier.

All she got in response to her knock was a sharp huff.

“Chiqui? Can I come in?”

“I guess.” You called back. Alexia opened your door, slipping inside and finding you sprawled on your bed, staring hard at the ceiling.

She hovered in the doorway uncertainly, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she settled on what she wanted to say. “How are you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling?” You snapped, glaring at her harshly.

“Hey,” Alexia tried, though she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to scold you for catching an attitude with her. She didn’t know what any of the rules were anymore.

You shook your head with an annoyed huff. “What do you want, Ale? I thought I didn’t need to talk any more today.”

And Olga had promised you that. Alexia was just hoping, perhaps naively, that you’d want to talk to her more. Instead, it seemed like you were barely holding yourself back from forcibly shoving your sister out of your room.

Any other time, any other situation, Alexia would have shouted at you to be respectful. Both of you knew that. It only made you feel worse that she felt that she had to tiptoe around you. She was treating you differently already and you hated that.

Alexia studied you for a few moments, before walking over to your bed and taking a seat on the edge of it. She put her hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off, and Alexia bit her lip. You noticed she was wearing this absurd shirt you’d gotten her as a joke a few years ago, one that proclaimed her as the world’s best sister. Really, you’d given it to Ale to spite Alba after arguing with her, though you’d also gotten Alba one a few days later, just to make sure her feelings weren’t hurt. Alexia wearing it now could have been completely accidental, or it could have been some kind of weird confidence boost she was trying to give herself. Either way, you felt emotion try to claw out of the pit you’d shoved it into, but you pushed it down again.

“I just want to help you.” The blonde said finally, her hands fiddling with a stray thread on your comforter.

You scoffed, sitting up off your bed and turning to face your sister. “You don’t mean that.”

Alexia’s head whipped up to look at you, an absolutely crestfallen look on her face. “Of course I do. Why would you say that?”

“You don’t. You said so earlier, you don’t understand, you can’t understand, you’d never do this. How are you supposed to help? You can’t, so don’t pretend that you want to.” You were fully crying now, pacing around your room but absolutely refusing to make eye contact with Alexia.

The midfielder’s heart sank as you threw her words back at her. She hadn’t known you’d overheard her, hadn’t realized how that had sounded. She’d been begging Olga to give her some guidance, not expressing that she’d given up on you, that she didn't really want to help you.

“Oh, mi pequeña,” Alexia whispered, standing and pulling you into a hug. You didn’t hug her back, even as her arms wrapped tight around you, and she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s not what I meant, not at all. I’ve never been through this, nena, and it’s hard for me to understand, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you. I do, more than anything.”

“You shouldn’t bother. It’s hopeless, I can’t do this.” You sobbed, finally hugging Alexia back, clinging on tightly to her shirt.

“It’s not hopeless. It might feel like it is, but I am never going to give up on you, on trying to understand, on trying to help. Never, nena.”

You pulled away for her, guilt once again replacing anger. Taking a few shuddering breaths, you tried to get your thoughts in order, or, you supposed, your feelings in order. You looked at your sister again, her arms at her sides as she looked at you helplessly.

“You’re being too patient with me.” You whispered, sitting down heavily on the edge of your bed.

Alexia took a seat next to you, feeling like maybe… maybe she did know what to say. “No. I don’t think I’m being patient enough.”

You shook your head, though still allowed your sister to grab your hand in hers. Whether it was for your comfort or for hers, you weren’t sure. Maybe both. “I’m not…I’m not sick. This problem, it’s all mental. I don’t deserve for everyone to be this kind and this patient. I chose this.”

There was a certain guilt that accompanied all of this. A real sickness, in your mind, wasn’t something that a person inflicted onto themselves. This was your fault. You had started it, you had continued it, and you’d let it get so bad that other people had to intervene. You didn’t deserve your sister’s patience.

Alexia gripped your hand tighter. “You are sick. Your brain is sick. And while you get better, you deserve all the kindness and patience. You made choices that got you here, but you are sick, hermanita. Just a different type than you’re used to.”

You looked at her tearfully, an almost pleading expression on your face. “I don’t know how to get better, Ale. I don’t know if I can.”

Alexia understood, then, that you weren’t pushing her away because you didn’t want her help, necessarily. You just didn’t want to waste her time when the task ahead of you felt so entirely impossible.

“I don’t know either. I don’t really know how to help you, but I’m going to find out, and I’m going to do it. Whatever it takes, nena. You are my baby sister, and you are worth the effort. I’m not going to give up on you. Not ever.”

For a moment, you looked at Alexia like you used to look at her. When you were tiny and she was your perfect, safe older sister. Your Ale, who let you sleep in her bed after bad dreams, who double knotted your shoelaces in the morning, and carried your backpack to class. Who taught you how to kick a football, and that you could be anything you wanted. You looked at Alexia like she’d hung the stars and the moon, like she could do anything.

That look used to make her feel like she could do anything, your belief in her something she could always count on. Now, the determination in Alexia’s eyes made you feel like you could do anything, just for a moment. You needed more than a moment, though.

—

If it wasn’t bad enough that you couldn’t play, couldn’t train, couldn’t even spend time in the gym without close supervision, you were seeing the specialist psychologist that the club had brought in every single day. The first few sessions didn’t heed much. It seemed she was trying to create a rapport with you, getting to know you before she tried to get you to bare your soul to her.

It was after your fourth session with your therapist, Lucia, that she began to press you to talk about the issue at hand. And it was after your fourth session that you found yourself speed walking out of Lucia’s office, not watching where you were going, tears streaming down your cheeks.

You were desperately hoping not to run into any of your teammates, as the facts of what was going on had been kept strictly between the captains and the coaching staff. Your teammates, however, would have had to be blind to not realize something was going on. All they’d been told was that you were out of training and matches for the time being.

Maybe some of them would have asked more questions if not for the terrifying shadow that your sister had become. She walked you to Lucia’s office every day, tried her best to be waiting outside when you were done. Any time you spent with the team, normally just coming out to the pitch to say hello, Alexia hovered behind you, shooting anyone a death glare if they so much as looked like they were going to ask you something deeper than “how are you?”

You half wondered if your Mami had put her up to this, because the last time you’d seen Alexia this protective was when you were 6, and you’d been getting teased at school. A few words from Eli to Alexia had your sister walking you to your classroom one morning, and making verbal threats to half the boys in the room. Alexia had been scary then, even as a teenager, and her actions had been more than effective.

This behavior might just be all Alexia, although you knew she’d told Eli and Alba what’s been going on. You didn’t want them to know, and Alexia had hesitantly agreed not to tell them. Later, though, Olga had pulled you aside and said that it would probably be helpful to both you and Alexia to have other opinions involved, and for Alexia not to carry the stress of this all on her own. She had a point, there, and you’d given Ale the go ahead to inform your Mami and Alba. She’d done so, but aside from phone calls from each of them, they’d been respecting your space.

Everyone, really, had been respecting your space. Aside from a new meal plan from the team’s nutritionists that you’d been trying your best to follow, no one had been forcing you to talk.

Until today.

Lucia had pushed you for the first time, and you’d tried your best to be open with her. It went against every instinct you had, though, and you could barely stick to a narrative with Lucia. For half the conversation, you’d admitted that there was a problem. For the other half, you’d denied it, until you were sure you’d contradicted yourself several times.

She’d let you go 10 minutes early, probably because you were in tears and had gone pretty much silent on her; she must have decided she’d pushed you enough for the day. It was in this state, tears falling freely down your face, that you exited her office. You turned the corner towards the changing room, intending to grab your bag from your locker and see if Olga would come pick you up early, instead plowing directly into Mapi.

“Woah! Where’s the fire?” She joked, grabbing your arms to steady you. Her smile fell, though, when she saw that you were crying. “Pequeña? You okay?”

It was clear for anyone to see that you weren’t okay, but Mapi wasn’t quite sure how willing you’d be to talk to her, so she decided to give you an out in case you wanted to go find your sister instead. Mapi wasn’t expecting the broken sob that you let out, or the way that you shook your head, so easily admitting that something was wrong after so long of pretending the opposite to be true.

“Do you want me to go get Ale?” The defender asked softly.

Again, you shook your head. How could you explain that you were crying because of your sister to your sister. “N-no. She’s busy.”

“She wouldn’t mind, nena, you know that.”

That was entirely the problem. She was being too patient, too perfect, it was almost overwhelming. There was too much pressure on you to be perfect, too. A perfect recovery didn’t exist, but you felt like it had to. For Ale, for Lucia, for the club and the team. It felt like you were hurtling towards some unknown end, the pressure building everyday. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“She’s dealing with enough of this. It’s fine. I’m fine.” You spoke as if you were trying to convince yourself, but the wobbling of your voice gave you away.

“Venga,” Mapi sighed, opening her arms for a hug. She half expected you to reject her, but was pleasantly surprised when you stepped forward and wrapped yourself tight around her. You were trembling, and she tightened her grip on you, wondering if she should ignore what you’d said and go get Alexia anyway. She didn’t want to betray your trust, though, and it seemed very obvious that you didn’t want to see your sister at the moment, so Mapi settled for some empty words she hoped were somewhat comforting.

“It’s all gonna be okay, pequeña. Whatever it is, you’re going to be okay.”

“How do you know?” You mumbled, sniffling into the shoulder of her training top, half embarrassed and half too tired to even care.

Mapi rubbed your back slowly, thinking on her answer. She just… knew.

“You don’t give up. You’re a determined person, and you can do anything you put your mind to. Whatever is going on isn’t any different. You’re strong enough for anything, nena.”

Pulling away, you wiped at your face, managing a weak smile for the defender. “Thanks María.”

She smiled sadly back at you, as if she knew what she’d said hadn’t really helped. “Anything you need, I’m here, sí? We all are.”

You nodded, thanking her again before you continued on your way to the locker room, hopefully where you’d be able to grab your stuff and get out of her before seeing anyone else. Especially Alexia. You got lost in your thoughts again rather quickly, barely able to focus when Olga answered her phone and told you to wait for her outside. You were too wrapped up in what Mapi had said.

‘You’re a determined person.’

‘You’re strong enough.’

You didn’t feel strong. You didn’t even feel very determined. You felt weak, like it was only a matter of time before you cracked and let everyone down. And everyone would see just how weak you really were.

—

The house was too quiet when Alexia and Olga arrived home from dinner. No music playing, no mindless reality show on the TV. And you were nowhere to be seen. Alexia slid her shoes off, offering a hand out to steady Olga as the other woman removed her heels.

“Something’s wrong.” Alexia murmured, looking up the stairs as if she could see through the walls into your room. She didn’t know what was wrong or what had happened, but she just knew something wasn’t okay. “I shouldn’t have left her.”

Olga shook her head, though, giving her girlfriend a sad smile. “You can’t always be with her, Ale. This is something she has to do herself sometimes.”

The blonde frowned. “But what if…”

“If she did, you tell her it’s okay. You tell her that relapsing is a part of getting better, and that you’re not upset with her.” Alexia nodded slowly, worrying her lip between her teeth. Olga grabbed her hand, squeezing once. “If she did, she probably just wants a hug, amor. She doesn’t want to hear that you feel guilt for leaving her to her own devices. She’s already going to feel like she broke your trust, and that would only make it worse.”

For a second, Alexia just stared in wonder at her girlfriend. Because, of course, it all made sense when Olga explained it, but Alexia would never have considered things from that perspective. Before Olga even knew what was happening, Alexia was wrapping her in a tight hug, tucking the shorter woman’s head under her chin.

“Thank you. I would have messed this up so many times without you, and I’m so grateful that you’re here and you’re so willing to help.”

Olga hugged her back with a matching ferocity, feeling a small smile grow on her face. Once, she’d expressed to Alexia that she felt the other woman wasn’t expressive enough. It was hard to know what the very tough captain was thinking, even harder to know what she was feeling. Since then, Alexia had made a concerted effort to speak her feelings aloud. It wouldn’t ever not make Olga smile to hear Alexia expressing her appreciation for her. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to. I don’t want you to ever doubt how perfect you are.” Alexia replied sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to Olga’s cheek.

It wasn’t the perfect date night that either of them had imagined, but it was still them, and that was enough.

—

You really hadn’t meant to ruin Ale and Olga’s evening. When they’d left, you thought it would be nice to have some time to yourself. And it would have been, if you hadn’t tried to push yourself to eat dessert on top of an entire dinner. You’d managed a few bites before you began to spiral, and it had all gone downhill from there.

Even still, you were hoping your sister and her girlfriend would slip into the house, say a brief goodnight, and not bother themselves with you. You certainly weren’t going to tell them what happened. Not today. It was your every intention to deal with your shame and embarrassment yourself in your room, which likely entailed crying into your pillow until you fell asleep.

Alexia ruined your plans, though, with her magical ability to sense when something wasn’t right. It allowed her to sniff out one of Pina’s pranks before it happened, allowed her to turn around and squirt Mapi with water just as the defender was about to do the same to her. It was a gut feeling, and it was even stronger when it involved you.

It wasn’t really magical. It was a lot of little things she picked up on. The little smirk Pina got before she pulled a prank. Mapi’s quiet giggling as she tried to sneak up on Ale. Now, it was the lack of noise in the house. The abandoned bowl of ice cream on the kitchen table, the light and fan left on in the downstairs bathroom. Your sister had known you all her life, and she knew what she’d find when she opened your bedroom door. Just like when you were little, and you’d sit at the foot of your bed when you’d gotten in trouble. Tears streaming down your little face, you’d turn away from Ale when she’d come after you, but she just had to wrap her arms around you, and you’d break.

You’d never been able to deny yourself the comfort of an Alexia hug.

Ale knocked softly before entering, finding you with your chin resting on your knees, wiping roughly at the tears falling down your face.

“Hey, chiqui.” She said softly.

“Hi.” You said, clearing your throat when your voice cracked. “How was your night?”

Alexia ruffled your hair, knowing exactly what you were attempting to do, and took a seat next to you. “It was nice, dinner was good. We had fun.”

“That’s good.”

Alexia wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “You can tell me if something happened.”

“Nothing happened.” You said firmly, though you leaned further into your sister, like she could protect you from something you’d done yourself. Something you’d done to yourself.

“Pequeña,”

“Nothing happened, Ale. Nothing.”

How could you tell her? How could you tell her that you’d failed, that you’d messed up, that you’d deviated from the plan? She was going to be upset, you knew it. She expected perfection. She always had. This would be no different. Alexia wanted you to have a perfect recovery.

As you continued to pretend nothing was wrong, Alexia felt a flash of frustration run through her. You still weren’t very willing to talk to her. Was she doing something wrong? Was she not not being patient enough or kind enough? What more could she do for you? What would it take for her to be enough?

She looked at you again, though, at the way your lower lip was wobbling, and the tears in your eyes that you refused to let fall. You were barely hanging on to your strength, and Alexia wasn’t sure why you were so resistant to being vulnerable with her, but she knew she couldn’t stop trying.

“Let me in. Please, you’re hurting, I can tell. Just talk to me.” She tried. When you stayed silent, she reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I just want to help, nena. Let me help.”

You couldn’t take the pleading tone of your sister’s voice anymore, and the words streamed out of you before you could stop them.

“I’m sorry. I– It was all just too much, I didn’t have a choice, I had to,” You choked out, eyes fixed firmly on the wall in front of you, even as your voice cracked and you started to cry. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ale.”

“Nena, why are you sorry?” Alexia asked, pulling you into her. You sobbed, unrestrained, into her sweater for a few moments, leaning back to take a few gasping breaths as you tried to answer her.

“I– I messed up,” you cried. “I broke your trust and–”

“No, cariño, don’t think of it like that.” Alexia interrupted, wiping a few tears off your cheek, though more replaced them quickly.

“But it is like that! The minute you left I made myself–” You cut yourself off with a sharp shake of your head.

“Tell me. Tell me what happened, and we can talk through it, yeah?”

“You don’t want to hear.”

“Yes I do. That’s why I asked. Walk me through what happened and we can make a plan for next time.”

It was always about plans with your sister, but you weren’t in much of a state to argue with her.

“I– I ate dinner. And it was okay. It was better. I think it got too confident or I wasn’t thinking hard enough but I got myself some ice cream but I only had a few bites before I was thinking about all the calories in it and how I’d have to skip breakfast tomorrow to make up for it, and then I remembered I have breakfast plans with Alba and I would have to eat and so I knew I had to–... I went to–,”

You couldn’t go on, crying too hard to get another word out. You covered your face with your hand, more than humiliated at your tears and what you were trying to tell your sister. It felt horribly private, and you didn't want to see the disgust and judgment on your sister’s face. You’d never given her this much detail before, and you were sure she didn’t want to hear this.

If you’d just opened your eyes, though, you would have seen the opposite of what you were expecting. Alexia was near tears herself, simply from seeing the pain that you were in. You were normally so good at hiding it; even when Alexia knew something was wrong, she couldn’t truly see how much it affected you. Now, though, something in you had broken, and you were falling to pieces in front of her.

She hadn’t seen you cry like this since you’d broken your ankle training with her a few years ago. All she’d been able to think to do while she waited for Eli to come pick you both up was pull you into her lap, though you were too big for it.

And it was all she could think to do now, allowing you to tuck yourself into her and cry as hard as you needed to. She held you tightly, as if she could stabilize the world as it crumbled around you, her own tears falling freely now.

“Alright, alright. It’s okay. It’s all okay, hermanita.”

“It’s not.” You sobbed, bordering on hysterical now. “I le-let you down.”

“No,” Alexia disagreed. “No. You didn’t let me down. This is part of it, chiqui. Part of recovery is relapsing, and I will never ever be disappointed in you for that. I know this isn’t easy.”

You simply didn’t believe her. She had to be disappointed, so you had to keep trying to justify it.

“I-I hate feeling like this. I just needed to control something. I just needed to be in control.”

“I get that. It must be really scary to give up control over what’s going in your body. Listening to the meal plans and eating what we tell you has to be so difficult.”

And though it was what you’d wanted all week, to hear Alexia acknowledge how hard this was, it didn’t feel right. You were convinced she was just saying whatever she needed to to get you to stop crying, that she was disappointed, even if she wasn’t showing it. She shouldn’t have to push down her justified anger because you were a disaster, she should be mad at you.

“No, Ale, stop.” You said, though you didn’t have the strength to push away from where your face was buried in the fabric of her sweater. “You’re disappointed, you want to yell. Just yell, please. It’ll make you feel better, and you won’t be mad at me anymore, so please. Just yell. I messed up. I deserve it.”

Alexia was quiet for almost a full minute. It felt like a stab to the chest that you thought she had to yell in order to work through her feelings. That you were so convinced she was angry with you, disappointed in you. That you were willing to sit through a lecture because you felt so guilty for what you’d done. She hated it all; you weren’t to blame. You were doing your best. She could see that, everyone could see that, so why couldn’t you?

It was as if you thought of yourself as a bad person for having an eating disorder. As if every relapse, every action you’d taken in the haze of your illness, made you a bad person. Being sick didn’t make you bad, and your sister ached to make you see that.

“Tell me something. After you make yourself throw up, what do you feel? What goes through your head?”

The question felt like it came from nowhere, the confusion you felt putting a stop to your tears. Instead, you breathed deeply for a minute, thinking. Hearing her say it made your stomach drop. You didn’t like to name it in your head. It was just… something you did, and if it remained unnamed, it wouldn’t matter.

But it did matter, and even though she was supposed to be mad, Alexia was rubbing your back like you mattered, and it was all so confusing that you just found yourself answering.

“Awful. Ashamed and embarrassed and disgusted. Guilty. I hate myself after I do it. It feels like the world is ending because I have to start over, like all the progress I’ve made was for nothing.”

“Does it make you feel like a bad person?”

At this, you jolted away from Alexia, staring at her with wide eyes. What was the right answer? What did she want to hear?

“I guess. I… I know I’m doing something wrong, something I shouldn’t be doing. I know I’m hurting my body and I know I’m hurting the team and my career. I’m doing something wrong and that makes me feel like I’m bad.” You admitted. Completely unsure where that confession had come from, you stared at your sister as you waited for her reply, as if you were shocked by your statement. She didn’t seem to be.

“It is wrong because it is unhealthy. It is wrong because you are hurting yourself. But… doing something ‘wrong’ doesn’t make you bad. You aren’t a bad person for being sick, you aren’t a bad person for relapsing. You’re doing your best, nena. You are trying. And even if you weren’t, that wouldn’t make you bad.”

You didn’t fully believe her, and Alexia could tell. This wasn’t something she could fix with a few words, though, and she knew that. Tomorrow, she’d make sure you talked to Lucia about this, but for now, she was content knowing that you weren’t crying anymore, and you looked significantly less distressed.

“You’re really not mad? Or disappointed?”

Alexia swallowed the lump in her throat at your question. “I’m really not. I’ve done my research, I’ve talked to your doctor, I knew to expect this, nena. It’s okay, it’s part of getting better. It can’t all be perfect, it won’t all be perfect. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to try, and I’ll be proud of you. I am proud of you.”

You wondered how Alexia had gone from a disaster that could barely put a sentence together without saying the wrong thing to this; saying exactly what you needed to hear from her and more. Likely, it was a combination of Olga, the research you know she’d stayed up late doing, and sheer determination to help you the best she could.

“I know this is hard in a lot of ways,” Alexia continued. “But you can talk to me. Always. Without worrying that I’ll be mad or upset. I promise you, pequeña, you can tell me anything. I’m here to help you.”

“I just hate talking about this.” You admitted. “I don’t like being vulnerable.”

“I know you don’t. You never have.” Alexia chuckled, thinking about how Eli used to have a jar set on the kitchen counter called the feeling’s jar. If you were upset about something, you were supposed to tell your Mami or your sisters about it, but that almost never happened. Instead, Eli gave you the option to write the feeling down and put it in the jar for someone to read later, when you weren’t in the room. It was the best any of them could do to understand what was going through your head, even as a child. “Would it make it better if I was vulnerable too? If I talk about something hard with you?”

You laughed, thinking she was joking, but when you glanced at her, she was completely serious, earnestly staring at you.

“Maybe.” You said suspiciously, highly doubtful that Alexia was about to tell you anything that really mattered to her. If you were stubborn about your feelings, it was because Ale was too.

Alexia just nodded, almost solemnly, fixing her attention on the ceiling above you both before she began speaking. “This season… this season has been harder. It’s always been hard switching off from football and taking a break when I need to, but it’s like… I have all this stuff outside of football that deserves my attention too. And it’s even harder now.”

“Other stuff… being Olga?”

Your sister nodded, blushing just slightly. “I need to spend less time doing extra training and watching film and obsessing over strategies. I just… I can’t. I can’t do it. I have to train every day. I have to do the most that I can.”

“Or what?”

“Or… I don’t know. I’d feel bad. I’d fail the team. But if I don’t find a better balance…” Alexia paused, taking a deep breath. You could have cried, again, from how much you appreciated her in that moment. Telling you things you knew she struggled to share, so you’d feel less alone. “Olga is always on me about self care, and I’m worried I’ll lose her if I don’t figure out how to take breaks and leave football behind when I come home, at least a little. And I really, really don’t want to lose her.”

You thought hard, knowing that Alexia deserved the absolute best advice you could give her, even if she wasn’t explicitly asking for it.

“I don’t think you’re going to lose her, Ale. But I think she deserves better than being second best to your job until you retire. It’s like you said, you need a balance. Sometimes, football is going to come first. That’s just part of the job. But you also have to make sure she comes first too, sometimes. Even if you have to do something that makes you uncomfortable, like miss an extra training session or not watch all the available film you can get your hands on.”

By the time you stopped talking and looked at your sister, she looked almost stunned, as though she wasn’t expecting you to have anything very helpful to say.

“When did you get good at giving relationship advice?” She asked. “The last time I asked you for advice like this you told me to spray paint I love you on Jenni’s car as an apology.”

You laughed. “That was like… 10 years ago, Ale. I’ve grown up.”

“You really have.” Your sister got a rather pensive look on her face, as if she was just seeing for the first time that you were no longer a little kid. In effort to avoid any further sappiness, you voiced the idea that had popped into your head a few minutes ago.

“Didn’t Olga say she doesn’t have much work to do tomorrow? You should take her to lunch.”

“We have training.” Alexia said automatically.

You rolled your eyes. “I know. Skip. It’s a gym session and film that you’ve probably already watched. Skip it and take your girlfriend out. No one will care.”

It was clear that the idea made Alexia uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. Her posture had become stiff and her hands were clenched almost as tightly as her jaw was.

But she thought about the last time she’d done something spontaneous for Olga, and the way the brunette's face had lit up. It had just been flowers picked up on the way home from training, but it had clearly meant a lot to her. Alexia wanted to see that look on Olga’s face again. Soon.

“Okay.” She agreed hesitantly. “How do I skip? Is it like school? Should I lie and say I’m sick?”

You laughed again, but Alexia joined in this time. “No, tonta. Just say you have a personal commitment. It’s not like anyone is going to ask questions.”

“Mmm. Well, you’re coming with us.”

You looked at her like she was stupid. “No I’m not. That would ruin the romantic date with your girlfriend.”

Alexia frowned, trying to think of a way she could make you a part of this too. A way she could make you want to try because she was trying. “Fine, but I’m bringing you back lunch, okay?”

Suddenly, you looked just as uncomfortable as your sister had, but you agreed nonetheless. You couldn’t not try if Alexia was trying. And you both knew that what you had to do was harder than what she had to do. It wasn’t really about that, though. It was about your sister understanding how difficult this process was, and telling you that you didn’t have to be perfect, just like she wasn’t.

Recovery wasn’t perfect. Existing wasn’t perfect. It was about trying. It was about knowing there needed to be a change, and doing your best to make one.

Trying your best didn’t have to be perfect, or without fault. Alexia almost threw herself into a panic attack the next day when she remembered she was missing a captains meeting, but Olga had calmed her down and Irene had promised to send her copious notes.

The look on Olga’s face had made it all feel worth it when Alexia had asked her of the plan you’d come up with.

“Do you want to get lunch tomorrow?” Alexia had asked casually, as her and Olga stood side by side at the stove, cooking dinner.

“After training?” Olga had wondered, confused.

“No. No training tomorrow, I’m taking the day off.”

It was very worth it when Olga practically dropped the wooden spoon she was holding and launched herself at Alexia, wrapping the taller woman in a tight hug. It was so, so worth it when Olga whispered a soft I’m proud of you in Alexia’s ear.

It wasn’t easy when you tried to eat lunch the next day. It wasn’t easy when you were done, and when you cried into your sister’s shoulder, when all you wanted to do was get rid of it.

But it was worth it later, when Alexia told you how proud she was of you, and you knew she meant it. You believed her. The next day, when Lucia told you she thought you were making good progress. Every step forward wasn’t without some faltering, but you moved forward anyway.

You moved through recovery. Forwards and backwards. Mostly forwards. Returning to training, to matches, to doing what you loved. To feeling like yourself again.

It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t perfect, but change was worth it. Getting better was worth it.

—

didn't plan on finishing this and getting it out tonight but it was flowing really well and i... think... i'm... happy... with.... it??? anyway! thanks for reading <3

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #putellas!reader #platonic reader #alexia putellas x platonic reader

515 notes · View notes

darlingdaisyfarm · 2 months ago

Text

Tourist trap (Stan Pines x fem!reader)

minors dni

Stan is very fond of tourists who believe his stories.

tags: nsfw, smut, p in v, fingering, riding, desk sex, semi-public, praise, sir kink, rough sex

You shifted nervously from one foot to the other, wide-eyed and excited, as you clutched your little Mystery Shack brochure in your hand. It was all crumpled from being folded and unfolded too many times, but you couldn’t stop reading all the incredible things advertised on it.

"See the world-famous Sasquatch Skull up close! Touch the Alien Artifacts nobody else believes in!"

You believed it all. Every last word. After all, you’re such a lover of the unknown.

Your group of tourists shuffles around you, mostly adults who looks really unimpressed, grumbling about the entrance fee. You’re the only one whose eyes are wide with excitement and who literally trembles from excitement to see everything the Shack have to offer. And that’s exactly what catches his eye.

Stan Pines stands in the doorway, leaning on his cane, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. You don’t notice how his eyes scans over you, how he takes in every little detail: the innocent excitement, the way you’re practically throwing your money at the gift shop already and that naive, gullible glow about you. You practically skip forward, not noticing how Stan’s eyes linger on you. He can tell right away — you aren’t just any tourist. No, you’re special. Too trustful. Sweet. The kind that believe every ridiculous thing he’d ever put on display.

And isn’t that just. . . adorable?

The tour starts and you trail behind him eagerly, eyes wide and shining as he tells stories about the various "creatures" and "relics" in the Shack. Part of you is convinced that every word is true, that you’re standing in the presence of real magic, real mystery.

Stan notices you hanging on his every word and it makes something stir in him. The way your lips parts just a little, these little “wow” and “ohh” you make, the way your eyes follow his every move. Meanwhile other tourists roll their eyes or sigh, bored out of their minds, but not you. You’re his favorite kind of visitor — the kind that made his job fun

"So," Stan starts, turning to you with a glint in his eye as the rest of the group wanders off, "what do you think of this, doll? Pretty impressive, huh?"

You nod enthusiastically, clutching your bag of over-priced trinkets and souvenirs. "It’s amazing, sir! i can’t believe im seeing all this in real life! i mean, is the Sasquatch skull really real? And the alien artifacts, are they, like, actually from space?!"

"Well, aren’t you just the cutest little tourist I’ve ever seen,” he smiles, leaning slightly towards you and letting out a chuckle “most people come in here and they laugh it off. Say it’s all fake, but not you. You really believe in this, don’t you?”

“Yeah! ive always dreamed of visiting such a cool place! thank you, sir, it’ll remain a good memory,” you giggle.

“Ohh, sweetheart, if you’re such a fan, maybe i can show you some of the mysteries we keep hidden from the average tourists.” he absolutely loves how wide-eyed and trusting you are. You really believe every word he tells you?

Your eyes light up, completely oblivious to the hungry look in his eyes. "Really? You’d do that?"

Stan rubs his chin, pretending to think it over, though the grin never left his face. “Hmm,” he looks at you for a couple more seconds before he tells you you. “for you, dear? Anything.”

He leads you away from the main part of the Shack, down a hallway lined with dusty old portraits and broken light fixtures. You don’t even notice how quiet it is now as the rest of the tour group far behind. All you can think about was the excitement bubbling inside you, the thrill of seeing something “exclusive.”

Stan opens a creaky door at the end of the hall and motions for you to step inside. You eagerly obey, stepping into a dimly lit room filled with more strange objects, things that weren’t part of the normal tour. At least, that’s what Stan told you.

He closes the door behind him with a soft click, the two of you now alone and you never really noticed how close he suddenly got, his hand resting on your lower back as he guides you further into the room, its cluttered with strange artifacts, most of which hadn’t made it to the main display.

You’re buzzing with excitement as you look around at the dusty shelves. "Wow!" you gasped, wide-eyed. “What’s that? and that?! oh my gosh, is that a real shrunken head?!”

Stan chuckles, settling himself down in an old chair near desk before patting his lap. “Why don’t you come here, doll? I’ll give you a closer look.” there was something in his voice. . . something that should alert you, but you’re too caught up in your excitement to notice it.

Without a second thought, you plop yourself down on his lap, leaning forward to inspect the nearest artifact, still firing off a barrage of questions. "What’s this one? and where did you get it? oh god, is it really cursed?!"

Stan grunts, adjusting you a bit closer as his hands settled on your hips. He leans forward slightly, his mouth near your ear as he begins to explain some ridiculous story about the origins of the objects. But you barely notice how his fingers start to slip lower, just lightly brushing along the hem of your skirt.

You keep talking, completely oblivious, your words spilling out in an excited rush. “This is so cool! i can’t believe no one else gets to see this! i-“ your voice hitches as Stan’s hand slides further up your thigh, his thick fingers grazing the edge of your panties.

He continues talking as if nothing happens. “This here is an ancient artifact from South America. Supposedly cursed, but, eh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” he pauses, his hand gently pressing against the softness of your thigh as he keeps you pinned on his lap.

Your breath caught in your throat, but you tried to focus on his words, nodding as you squirmed a little. “W-wow, that’s- that’s so cool!” your voice breathy as Stan’s fingers brushes lightly along the edge of your panties, teasing you.

“Yeah, real cool, huh?” he asks you, still as if nothing happened, his other hand sliding up your waist to grip your side, so you wouldn’t move that much. His fingers dip lower, grazing the fabric of your panties before slipping just beneath it. “aaand this one here,” he continues, “it’s said to have belonged to an ancient tribe. Powerful stuff.”

You can barely process what he’s saying, your mind blank as his fingers lightly tease along your slit, collecting the wetness that was beginning to pool there. You shift in his lap, trying to stifle the soft whimper that escape your lips, your legs pressing together.

“Something wrong, doll?” he asks in a playful, no, mocking tone, while his fingers now lightly caressing your clit. “You seem a little distracted. Thought you wanted to hear about all these mysteries*.”

“I- I do!” you stutter. “It’s just- s-sir!”

“Just what?” Stan interrupts, his fingers now slipping lower, pressing firmly against your entrance. His other hand grips your waist, holding you firmly in place as you instinctively try to buck your hips against his hand.

You whine softly, barely able to form a coherent sentence. "I-I just. . . oh god-“

Stan smirks. “You’re so cute, sweetheart,” he nuzzles your neck, his fingers now teasing your entrance, pushing just the tip of one finger inside your throbbing cunt. “asking all these questions while sitting in my lap like a good little girl.”

You sob, your hips rocking against his hand without even realizing it. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsing beneath you, pressing against your ass, but Stan keeps his focus on you, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wetness, never stopping his stories.

“This one is said to have special. . . powers. Like it can make someone go crazy with just one touch.” he chuckles, his finger curling inside you, hitting that spot that made you gasp and clench around him.

Your head spinning, your body aching with need, completely at his mercy as he tease and play with you, all while still pretending like it was just another tour.

Stan’s smirk widens as he feels you trembling in his lap, the way you quietly moan, your face and body both hot. He keeps his voice steady, still saying some ridiculous story about the artifacts, but his fingers never stops their teasing.

“So, this piece here was said to be used in rituals. Uhh, something about unlocking a person’s deepest desires, makin’ ’em lose all sense of control.” its not difficult for him to imagine these false stories, he is an experienced lier after all. You try to listen, try to understand what he’s saying, but that’s just impossible to do as he presses his thumb harder against your needy bud, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. You whimper, barely able to focus on his words. Your body burning, every nerve ending tingling as his rough fingers stroke and tease your throbbing pussy. Your hips rock against his hand, desperate for more, but you’re too shy, too embarrassed to ask for it.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? you were askin’ so many questions before, now you’re all quiet?” his thumb circles your clit a little bit faster and your body jolts from pleasure, a soft cry escaping your lips before you could stop it.

“I’m just-“ you stammer, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you squirm in his lap. “I c-can’t, sir, can’t think”

He chuckles, now pushing two thick fingers deep inside your tight, clenching cunt. You gasp and your back arch against him as he starts to pump them slowly, curling and scissoring his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble. What a lovely sounds you’re making.

“Aww you poor thing, so lost, huh? cant even think straight, can ya?”

You whimper, biting your lip as you try to stifle the noises that are spilling out of you, but it’s useless. Your hips are moving on their own, grinding against his hand as you clung to his shirt, “sir” and “please” leaving your mouth as his fingers stretch you so well.

“Just relax, doll, I’ll take care of you. Just listen to me.” his fingers pumped harder inside your pulsing pussy. “you wanted a tour, right?”

You nodded weakly, not even listening him, unable to focus on anything but the way his fingers were fucking into you, the wet sounds of your dripping pussy filling the small room. His thick digits stretch you open just good, making you lose your mind.

“So this here,” he continued, his voice still calm despite the way you were practically writhing in his lap, “was used by an ancient tribe. Supposedly, they thought it could help them communicate with the gods, but I think it’s more useful for somethin’ else. . . don’t you, sweetheart?”

You could only sob in response, your body trembling as his fingers drove deeper, stretching your tight walls, his thumb never leaving your poor sensitive clit, your muscles clenching around his fingers as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re such a good girl,” he praises as he watches you squirm in his lap, your wetness coating his fingers. “so cute, all worked up like this. You gonna cum for me, doll?” you nod , your hips bucking against his hand, his fingers thrusting deeper inside your aching cunt. Stan laughs at that pathetic sight, his fingers moving faster now, fucking you hard and deep, your pussy clenching around his digits. “Go on, princess, cum on my fingers.” you exhale when Stan finally let you finish. With a strangled cry, your body shakes, your cunt clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you. Your eyes rolled and brain fucking melted as you shudder in his lap.

Stan grinned, watching you with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl, such a good little doll for me.”

His hand rests on your breast, first slowly and gently caressing it. His fingers find your nipple and give it a light squeeze, drawing another sound from you. Stan smirks to himself as he feels you shaking in his lap, your body responding to every little touch he gave you. His fingers still buried deep inside you, moving at a slow, teasing pace that had you on edge, desperate for more. You can barely sit still, squirming against him, your breath coming out in soft, shallow gasps.

His fingers curling inside you again, and you whimper, your hips jerking in response. “You want somethin’, don’t you? you gotta tell me what you need, doll.”

Your mind foggy, every nerve in your body on fire as his fingers keep working you over, drawing soft, desperate noises from your parted lips. You could barely think straight, let alone put together a proper sentence. “pl-please, sir”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your struggle. “Please what, sweetheart? you gotta use your words if you want somethin’ from me.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself together, but it’s damn impossible with the way his big fingers thrusting inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. You can feel the heat building inside you again, that desperate, aching need, but of something bigger than just his fingers. You need to be filled, to have your brains fucked out. “I need more. . .”

“More, baby? you want my fingers to go faster? is that what you mean?”

You shake your head frantically, your whole body aching for something else. “No, I need- need your cock, sir-“

He raise his eyebrows in a fake surprise. “Oh, is that what you’ve been tryin’ to say this whole time? you’re beggin’ for it now, huh? pretty little thing, all desperate for me to fuck you?”

You whimper softly, your hips moving on their own, trying to push down on his hand for more friction, more pressure, but he holds you still, keeping you right where he wanted you. “Please, sir,” you whisper and nearly cry because of horrible emptiness you’re feeling. “please just fuck me, sir, i need you!”

“You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous today, sweetheart,” he tells you, his hand finally pulling away from your dripping slit. “don’t say i never gave you nothin’.”

Before you can even process whats happening, Stan shifts you in his lap, his strong hands lifting your hips and positioning you right above his length. You can feel his cock, already hard and throbbing beneath you, pressing up against your soaked entrance, and your whole body tense, your breath catching in your throat.

Stan’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he lines himself up with your glistening cunt, spreading your folds. “You ready for it, doll?” he asks. “this what you’ve been beggin’ for?”

You nod quickly, fuck enough of questions, you thought. “Yes,” you whisper. “yes yes yes, ple-“ but before you can even finish, he slowly pushes inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. You immediately gasp at the new sensation, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as your body adjusts to the sudden fullness. Oh god, it’s thick, so hard, filling you completely and you can feel every inch of him throbbing inside you, every vein, it feels so hot.

Stan huffs out, his grip on your hips tightening as he buries himself to the hilt. “Fuck, you’re tight. like you were made for this, doll.”

You whimper softly, holding on him, your body trembling as you try to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It’s almost too much, the way he stretches you so perfectly, the way he fills you completely. You can barely breathe.

Stan gives you a moment to adjust. his cock pulsing inside you. “There we go,” he mutters watching your brows furrowing. “Just like that. . . you’re doin’ so good, babygirl.”

You moan again, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, and you feel him twitch inside you,. “I. . . nhhah, s-sir”

He leans towards you and kisses your forehead, his hands guiding your hips to start moving, slowly at first. “Go on, princess. Ride me, let me see how bad you want it.”

You bite your lip nervously as you’ve never been in this pose before, you slowly start to move, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down onto his cock. It feels incredible, the way his cock stretches you open, hitting all sweet spots inside you. You feel the tension building inside you again, that same desperate, aching need, and you whimper again and again, your hips moving faster as your cunt tightening around him.

Stan’s eyes locks with yours as he guides your movements, kissing your neck. “That’s it, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good, yesss, such a good girl, ridin’ me like that.”

You cry out at his words, what a sweet praise, your body moving on its own now, your hips grinding down against him, taking him deeper with each thrust. You can barely think, barely breathe, the pleasure overwhelming your senses, your mind clouded, you can’t even maintain the eye contact.

Stan’s hands moves to your waist, holding you steady as he starts thrusting up into you, meeting your movements with deep, powerful thrusts. You whine, your hands gripping onto his shoulders for support as he fucks you, your mouth hangs open while he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust, he holds you so tightly, squeezing your body while you ride him.

You gasp. “I- I’m gonna-“

“Go ahead, doll, cum for me, let me feel it.”

Your body tensed, your walls clenching around his cock as your orgasm hits you hard. Your body shaking, trembling in his lap as you cumming, rambling pleas leave your mouth when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing sweetly against your cervix. Stan groans, his grip on your waist tightening as he thrusts up into you harder, deeper, drawing out your pleasure as long as he can. “That’s it, such a good girl, baby. . . so fuckin’ tight.”

You fall on his chest, still shaking, your mind still spinning from the intensity of it all. You can feel him still throbbing inside you, still hard, and you whimper softly, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, he’s clearly not planning on pulling out.

After you manage to get your breathing back to normal at least a little you feel his hands still all over you, roughly dragging you up and laying you out on the old wooden table. Your legs tremble, spread wide as he stares down at you, taking in the sight like you’re his prize, his fucking reward.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” grin crosses his lips as he grabs your thighs, pulling you right to the edge of the table before slamming his cock back inside your pussy, forcing a cry from your throat. Your body jolts at the sudden penetration, and you moan again, legs wrapping around his waist as he starts pounding into you again. Hard. Rough. Fast. There’s not a drop of mercy in his movements, he's not holding back, fucking you like you're just a thing for him to use. Your sweet moans and that pathetic "sl-slow down!" sound like music to his ears.

His hands all over you, squeezing, groping, touching. He grabs your breasts, kneading them, pinching your nipples through your shirt so hard you whimper, arching your back off the table. He groans at that, leaning in close, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “Fuck, you feel heavenly, baby, can’t get enough of this sweet little cunt.”

His fingers finds your clit, rubbing circles around it, teasing you until you can’t stop the pathetic whines spilling from your lips. He keeps fucking you harder, his hips slamming against yours, the table creaking under the weight of it all. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixed with your gasps, your moans, your begs and his grunts as he’s pounding into you like he was starving for it.

“Look at you,” he looks down at your flushed, wrecked body, his hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. “Such a fucking good girl for me, huh? letting me use this pretty little pussy however I want.”

You can’t really form words, can’t do anything but take it. Your so brain fucked, body burning, you’re so close you can’t think straight. He’s rough, fast, his fingers rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you higher, higher, until you can’t hold back anymore. You cum hard, again, your pussy squeezing his cock well.

But Stan doesn’t stop. He just keeps going, fucking you right through it, ruining your pussy, even harder now, his hips snaps into you, faster, rougher, and you can feel the slick mess between your thighs, the obscene sound of it only making it filthier. You're choking on your moans.

“Ugh, gonna cum inside you, doll,” he groans. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, you want that? you want me to fucking fill you up?”

You nod frantically, too far gone to care about anything else, and with one last, hard thrust, he buries himself so deep, his cock pulsing as he finishes inside you. You feel how warm it is, his cum filling you up, spilling out of you as he keeps thrusting, riding out his high.

Finally, he slows down, pulling out with a groan, and you collapse back on the table, spent, utterly wrecked. Youre literally shaking, panting, his cum dripping out of your used pussy onto the wood below. Stan stands there, catching his breath, looking down at you and all that dirty mess, what a beautiful sight: your legs trembling, your body marked with his touch and his cum leaking from between your thighs.

He leans over. “you know, guess I'll give you a discount for that pretty face of yours.”

#stan pines smut #gravity falls smut #gravity falls x you #gravity falls x reader #x reader #Smut #stan pines x reader #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines #stanley pines x you #gravity falls #stan pines x you

797 notes · View notes