#only if I had a chance to lay a finger on him

[starshipsofstarlord]

lap girl (8) | daryl dixon

summary. daryl is frustrated, forced to rest in his and y/n’s tent on the greene farm after not finding sophia and andrea shooting him. his partner is also feeling his frustrations, and so they relieve them together (2.4k)

warnings. smut 18+ mdni, protected sex, fingering, teasing, swearing, mention of having children and pregnancy (they don’t though, and is no pregnancy), mentions of death, petnames, established relationship, angst and fluff, 3rd person

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

Y/N was obscenely furious, she could easily beat the living shit out of Andrea for her impulsive need to prove herself and kill walkers. For a shot had broke through the air, scathing the side of her target’s head, and rather than a single undead, her aim had been poised upon Daryl. Albeit he had been covered in blood and dirt, and anyone would have been fooled into thinking he was one of the undead from afar, but if she had just left well enough alone as she had been advised to, he never would have endured an injury.

She sat in the tent she shared with Daryl that they had upholstered on the Greene’s farmland, her eyes scanning her partner with worry. Hershel said he was going to be okay, which was an immediate relief, but Y/N could not help but be berated by a wave of rage, though she kept quiet about it, choosing instead to sit on Daryl’s lap as he lay resting. He was awake, blue eyes barely open as the sunlight cast shadows from outside on the inner walls of the tent.

His side was staked with an ache from where his own arrow had inserted itself into his flesh, but he had demanded that his girl take a seat atop of him. The bowman played with the belt loops of her jeans as he gazed mindlessly up at her, she was careful not to move, knowing just an inch in the wrong direction could provoke his injury to feel even worse. Daryl was patched up, and he was supposed to be resting, but he appeared restless despite his hooded lids.

He gnawed at his own bottom lip, a crease formed between his brows which Y/N was tentative to notice. She brushed her gentle fingertips against it, understanding the frustration that her man felt. Daryl had went out to search for Sophia, Carol’s daughter, and whilst he had not returned empty handed and had found her doll that had been lost from her grasp, the young girl was still missing.

It rattled him, that none of the others had even wanted to seek the whereabouts of the child, considering anything could happen to her out there. Y/N had tried to follow him, wanting to mount the horse and try to help locate the lost girl, however he had refused, wishing for his lover to remain safe, and his turbulent tumble and scrap with walkers had only made him glad he had not allowed her to come with him. The others all judged him, but it didn’t matter, he had been the only one of them with moral enough to act on his concerns.

A part of him was relieved that he and Y/N had never had children of their own prior to the outbreak, for the same thing could have happened but instead to their offspring. The bowman tried his damn best to protect his partner, although she was able to take care of herself in most situations, knowing that they would have had to tread lighter and more carefully throughout the world to secure the survival and future of their son or daughter.

Sophia could be dead out there, and the more time in being unable to find her, the chances of her being deceased increased. “Stop overthinking honey.” Y/N knew that it wasn’t something that Daryl could control, his mind was wrapped up in doing the right thing under the circumstances that had been dealt. But voicing against the internal feud that made his brain loud would help, it always had. It drew him back to reality, forcing him to slink away from his solitary thought, as though she was trying to exorcise them from haunting him. It was all easier said than done, and they both knew it.

“Jus’ can’t help i’ sunshine. Need somethin’ ta distract me.” Distract him from the pain that throbbed along his temple. Distract him from whatever the hell had happened to his brother. Distract him from the overpowering discrimination that some of their group judged him for. He had not lived in the same way most of them had, he and his girl had scraped by to afford to pay their rent, even helping Merle out with his ‘business’ to be able to do so.

It had never been the perfect lifestyle, but they had each other and that was what had gotten them through it. And it would be the same situation amidst this futile outbreak that was certainly not ending any time soon, or ever. “Yeah?” A smirk quirked at the corner of Y/N’s mouth as her eyes locked onto the way Daryl frustratedly chewed his lip. “What kind of distraction?”

“Ya could always jus’ sit on mah face.” He was drawing her attention away from her prowess that thrived to punish Andrea for her idiocy; it wasn’t that she didn’t like the woman, but the blond did not respect her, so she did not return such fervour. Y/N quirked her brow, cocking her head at her partner, before she leant down, brushing her lips against Daryl’s own, toying with his present lust that was throbbing past his skull like that darn bullet had, her lap pressing harsher against his own, drawing a groan out from the injured man.

“Not with that head injury.” Another groan, this time one of disappointment, but Y/N wasn’t stupid, Daryl needed to heal, and having her thighs wrapped around the sides of his head would not aid in such a predicament he had literally been shot into. “Sorry honey, not gonna hurt you anymore than you already are.” Her hands brushed along the expanse of his flannel covered chest, her eyes drifting to the exposed muscles of his arms. They glistened with a slight sheen of sweat from the heat of being confined within the tent, the sun boiling the material from the outside and cooking their bodies in the mild summer temperature.

“Ya gonna do anythin’ woman?” Daryl scoffed, drained from the pain that throbbed in his left temple, and just as irritated by the untouched throbbing of his cock that rested in his pants. He was wound up from being stuck in the tent, he resented remaining still, especially since Sophia still continued to be lost. With each passing day, hope for finding her dwindled, and Daryl felt responsible that he had failed to uncover her whereabouts. His pupils caressed Y/N’s form, tracing the features of her face and that damned smirk that made his brain dwell profoundly on what her lips could do, until they reached the swell of her chest.

Y/N noticed where his eye-line had drifted to, her cocky smirk only widening upon his gaze, feeling as though she was successful to cease the running of his mind. “Dunno.” Y/N drawled out, amused by the frustration that swindled normally calm demeanour with her. She couldn’t blame him, he had been practically through hell and back, and he was unable to proceed with normal habits of his, such as hunting and keeping a watchful eye out for walkers. “Don’ know if you deserve it…” Daryl’s eyes held a loving spite in them as he bit back, attempting to prompt her into doing something.

If he was forced to remain in the damning tent, then he wanted something out of it, preferably a seance of gratification, though of course he wouldn’t force her, even if it seemed as though she too was walking on the edge of arousal. “I jus’ took a bullet an’ an arrow woman, pretty fuckin’ sure I do.” Daryl retorted, causing a breathy laugh to flail from his lover who thrived off of his desperation to fuck her. “The least ya can do is jus’ slip it in.” This made Y/N laugh harder, and as Daryl had always known, he would never get tired of that sound.

“Wellll…” Y/N speculated the possibility, reaching into the pocket of her pants to pull out a packet that she had stolen from Glenn’s own personal stash, “ya won’t have to pull out this time.” The condom, although Daryl preferred feeling all of her, being inside her with no barrier between, brought him a comfort. There’d be a lesser threat of knocking her up, and they would not be under the same circumstance that had newly revealed itself to Lori. Daryl prized it from her hands, not letting go as he pulled her hand to him, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Others would never speculate the often brooding archer as a romantic, and whilst he wasn’t in the common sense, he did love his girl and had his own way of showing it. Merle had often laughed at how easily his brother would become putty in Y/N’s hands, “pussy whipped’ as he would often referred to him as, but Daryl knew that was not the only reason why he was so contorted into adoration for the woman atop of him. She was a strong character, she never took any shit from anyone including him, and that was exactly what he needed. “Tha’s good.” Daryl murmured, knowing that he would feel immense guilt if he made her vulnerably carry another life in the way the world was now.

Y/N hummed in agreement, leaning down to kiss his lips, there was a hunger within the contact though it was not rushed, it was slow, as though they were feeding from each other’s souls. His free hand that did not hold the condom reached down to caress her ass through the denim, squeezing her flesh to cause her to breathe out a gasp into him, and he swallowed it down as if he were dying of thirst. “You feelin’ well enough to do this?” Her eyes drifted to the bandage over his wound, concerned that it would dissolve the little inkling of energy that he had slowly rebuilt.

“Course I am.” Daryl instantly answered, needing to do something other than just lay down, and that just so happened to be doing his girl. “Ya wanna take these off?” His fingertips traced around the seem of her trousers, and he groaned as she moved herself from atop of him, swiftly discarding both the layers that concealed her legs and flesh, leaving her bottom half bare. Y/N climbed back atop of him, running her hands down his throat until they rested on his chest over his heart, and Daryl smiled up at her, as though she was a goddess blessed upon him. “Tha’s your, ya know tha’ right?” He said in referral to his heart as it beat under her palm.

“I’ve known it for a long time honey.” Y/N gasped as his fingers traced her slit, feeling the rough pads of his them move through the arousal that had already accumulated on her sex. He watched her with dreary eyes, smitten above all else, still shocked that he was a lucky enough man to be with such a beautiful person. As he touched her, her body leant backwards from where she was seated on him, and she looked visceral, like a damned angel within the world of chaos. “Daryl.” She sharply moaned his name as he slid a digit within her, filling her knuckle deep.

He thrusted his finger nice and slow until he let another join it, his thumb reaching up to roll circles around her clit. “Fuuuck.” He loved it when she cursed, whenever she opened her mouth it was so contradictory to her beauty, though he always fell for her words as though they were a spell. Daryl kept moving his fingers until he was sure she was wet enough to take his length, and as he retracted them, he placed them in his own mouth, tasting them. “Really?” She giggled out as she undid his jeans and released his cock from its confining chamber of material.

“Wha’? Ya wouldn’t sit on ma face, it’s the next best thing.” Daryl allowed her to take the condom from him, ripping open the packet as she rolled it down on his flesh. He was hard and sensitive to her touch, and all of his pain and strife was forgotten as she sank down on him, taking him to the hilt. There was no medicine better than her touch, and whilst it was newly recognised, he was lulled into comfort from feeling her tight walls snuggly wrapped around him. “Shit.” A puff of air left his mouth as his hands wandered around her frame, his dwelling frustration dwindling in the simple act.

Y/N’s hand rested atop of his heart again, feeling it thump in a familiar beat, as she lifted herself, only to grind herself down on him, only to repeat her actions. Daryl moaned, sometimes her name, sometimes swears; they brought each other such pleasure that nothing or nobody else could compete with. It was as though they were soulmates, and whilst neither of them believed in that kind of thing, they felt the connection like a red string that entangled their fates. It was never just sex, even when they had to quickly bring each other to a release, there was always love between them.

“Y/N.” He said her name, as he felt his body rush with swindles of sparks - he was getting close, and so Y/N moved faster, chasing not only her own orgasm but his as well. They plummeted in a river of ecstasy together, Daryl filling up the condom with his liquid bliss. Y/N lifted herself a couple more times until she stayed still, riding them through their highs, Daryl’s hands gravitating to her thighs as he drew small circles upon her flesh with his fingers. “Ya okay sunshine?” She’d moulded him into a soft version of his person, and there was no greater comfort than that.

“Always am when I’m with you.” She pulled his cock out from her, discarding the condom in a corner as he tiresomely tucked his cock back into jeans, dressing her lower half in just her panties before she came to rest upon him, careful of his injured side. He closed his eyes, feeling not only well rested but spoilt with the love that his girl had for him. Y/N never made him feel like a failure even if sometimes he considered himself such, she always brightened his peripheral, even in these dark times that shrouded them with the consistent requirement of having to survive.

[girlfromflor]

MAY 17 | HAPPY BIRTHDAY, V.

pairing: 141 & graves x reader

summary: you spend your birthday with your men.

warnings: none really, this is silly | wc: 851

a/n: a birthday gift to @lay-z because she's the best and deserves all the love in the world, based on her interactions with her cod anons because they're gold. happy birthday, dear!! 💘💘

it wasn't unusual to celebrate your birthday with parties that your family and friends organized for you throughout the years. But something about celebrating it with your men was different. they have been in your life for the past 3 years or so, but that's the first time you're celebrating like that.

maybe it was the milestone of your age, or maybe they were all just feeling particularly needy for your attention on this special day. anyhow, you and them have spent all day together. johnny wanted to be the first one to wish you ‘happy birthday’, so he brought you breakfast in bed, settling himself on your side as he watched you eat with the biggest heart eyes known to men. john cooked lunch for you, making your favorite and, since he isn't usually one to cook, it was nice to watch him as he did – stealing a kiss or two whilst at it. simon spent all day glued to you, so much so that you had no other chance as he wrapped you in his arms and trapped you in your bed for you to take a nap cuddling in each other's arms. kyle was the one who woke you two up, gently shaking you awake as he smothered you in kisses. when you were awake enough, he threw himself in your bed on top of simon, who simply grunted and turned to hug kyle like a pillow – you laughed at them, moving to get in the middle of them, that's when kyle tells you he has a surprise.

hugging your waist and tracing his fingers to your face, he says “i have a surprise for you, baby.”

“do you?” you smile, touching his wrist to hold his hand. “what is it?”

“more like ‘who’ is it, sweetheart…” he replies, laughing at your furrowed brows. he kisses the tip of your nose, ordering “make a overnight bag for you, baby, i’m taking you somewhere special for tonight.”

you're slightly confused but you trust your man, so you get up to pack a small bag with your essential – and special – items for the night. kyle’s is still laying down in between the arms of a sleepy simon when you ask  “did all of you pack already?” 

“oh, yes, dear,” his voice is light and unbothered, but then comes a gruff groan from simon, so he's adding in a teasing tone “i mean, i have.”

“what do you mean you have?” you mock his tone, and he chuckles at you. you're halfway done with your bag, turning around and bending over slightly to take somethings on a lower drawer, only to be met with total silence to your question. when you turn back to look at kyle he doesn't even try to hide that he was looking at your ass, and you throw a piece of clothing that was in your hand on him.

he catches it easily, laughing with you. “what?! i was admiring my pretty girl. god forbid a man likes his future wife,” he lets out in fake exasperation, gesturing to make it even funnier.

“ugh, shut up,” you say, but you're smiling and giggling still. he sits up on the edge of the bed beside your bag, feet touching the floor as he pulls you to sit on his lap. “you still haven’t answered my question, mister garrick…” you say jokingly.

he hums in response, hands caressing your hips as he speaks. “it's going to be just me and you today, love…” it’s half the answer you expected, but you don’t press further.

once you have finished packing, kyle makes you kiss each one of the other men goodbye. they’re all very clingy – especially johnny, but what’s new, right? –, so you give them extra affection before entering kyle’s car. It’s near sunset when you leave, kyle drives calmly and you barely have time to process where you are before he’s pulling over.

your eyes catch a house with warm lighting on the outside, it looks cozy and oddly familiar, but before you question kyle you notice a figure walking up to the both of you as you exit the car. “well, if it isn’t good to see you, darlin’...” phillip says, smiling fondly at you. realization washes over you and you don’t think twice before throwing yourself and graves’ arms. he kisses your neck, your cheek and your forehead before whispering “happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“how long have you been here?” you ask him, still in his arms. he explains that he actually arrived a few hours ago and that he was finishing some arrangements so you could properly celebrate your birthday. you turn to kyle then, mouthing a small “thank you” to him. 

kyle just smiles, shrugging. “it took a lot of talking with the others, but i’m glad we could do it,” he says whilst nodding to phillip in a small greeting. they guide you inside the house, and it is just like you remember from the last time you’ve seen phil.

you can’t wait to see what birthday gift kyle and graves will give to you.

[igotatasteforoldermendelrey]

I will run miles for you.

Picture from 4ngelvision on Pinterest

A/N : Hi guys! Wrote this short one today. I hope you will like it!

English is not my first language you might find mistakes in there!

Ship : Joel x reader

Summary : Joel, you and Ellie were all living in Jackson. One night, you were woken up by the sounds of things being knocked over downstairs. After realising Joel was fighting someone who flee when he saw you, you had to make sure it won’t happen again.

Warnings : established relationship, fighting, swearing, mention of death (not Joel’s), running, mention of infected, fluff, a little bit of angst?

If I forgot anything don’t hesitate to tell me!

I do not consent to any of my work to be translated or posted anywhere else without my permission.

Banners made on Pinterest.

You woke up to the sound of things being knocked down downstairs. You ran your hand over the side of the mattress where Joel was supposed to be laying on only to be met with cold. You sat up, looking on your bedside table to look at the time on your watch. 2:30 in the morning. The noise continued even stronger, as if things were thrown around.

Not being sure if it was Joel, you took your gun from the drawer beside your bed and went downstairs, holding it tighter between your fingers when you heard two voices. You slowly, made your way at the door frame, staying hidden in the shadow, just to take a better look at the scene.

It’s when you saw them. Joel on the floor, a man on top of him trying to hit him with his fist. the older man was trying to get the other man to let him go, pushing and hitting all he could. You slowly made your way to them, putting your gun against the head of the other man.

You better let him go before I blow your brain out. You warned him, pushing your gun against his head.

The man jumped, looking at you before pushing you with all his force to flee the house. You stayed on your feet thanks to the hold you had on a chair, and saw Ellie standing behind you.

Stay with him. You tell her before running outside after the man.

He wasn’t too far, not being able to run as fast as he could because Joel must have hit him in the leg. You quickly catch him up, jumping on him and sending him rolling on the floor. After making sure he couldn’t flee again, you tore off his hood, realising he was just a kid from the neighbourhood, someone who was working in the kitchen.

The fuck do you think you’re doing, Austin?! You exclaimed, your gun still in your hand.

This motherfucker deserves to die! He spat out at you with pure rage in his eyes.

Are you high? Drunk? You asked him, still holding him down with your legs.

Of course no! Joel killed my dad! He exploded, trying to get you off of him.

What’s your father’s name?

Patrick.

Austin… your father was infected. He got bitte during patrol. Joel didn’t have a choice…

Stop it! Stop lying! He screamed at you, getting you off of him.

I am not. Ask your mother, or Tommy or Maria. He was bitten on the left arm. I’m sorry kid. Joel had to made sure he wasn’t going to be a danger for the town.

No one has ever been bitten on patrol!

They were asked to go watch a different road, the infected were lying under the snow. No one knew, Austin. The others had a lot of chance to be able to flee without getting bite.

That’s not… it’s not fair!

It’s not. I’m sorry. You put slowly a hand on his shoulder. Go home, kid. You’re mom must be worried.

She is sleeping. Always is since dad died. He sniffed.

Maybe Gail can see her. I’m sorry kid, really. Now go home. We won’t say anything about tonight if you stay in place.

He nodded one last time before turning around and walking to his house without looking back at you. You sighed, saddened by this kid who just wanted to venge his father. None of them deserved this life. You returned home, finding Joel sat on a chair and Ellie walking from one side of the kitchen to other, telling him how she will find him and kill him.

WoW, nobody’s going to kill anyone. I took care of it. You interrupted her, walking in the kitchen and putting your gun on the table before getting antiseptic to disinfect Joel’s cut on his brow.

Who was it? What did you do to him? She asked, almost jumping on you.

He was Patrick’s kid. You replied staring at Joel who sighed when he heard the name. His dad got infected on a patrol.

Why would he attack Joel then?

Cause he blames me. I was the one who took care of his father after he got bitten. Can’t be mad at him.

What? He tried to kill you! Ellie exclaimed.

Joel scoffed. No he didn’t. He couldn’t have done it, almost couldn’t land a punch. That was just an angry kid, Ellie. Think if you were in his shoes.

Well at least I know how to land a punch. She replied with a murmur, exiting the kitchen to go back to bed.

I swear this kid… Joel said, letting you take his face in your hand to apply the antiseptic.

She’s a teenager. I’m sure you were like that too at her age… or still are. You added with a murmur.

What’s that supposed to mean?

That you’re sometimes as moody as a teenager?

He scoffed, falling silent.

Well at least now I know you will jump on anyone trying to hurt me. Can’t believe you ran after him.

What? You thought I was gonna stay standing there while a man was trying to hurt the man I love? You don’t know me as much as I thought you did, mister Miller.

You love me? He replied, acting like it was something he didn’t know.

Shut up. You added with a smile, finishing patching him up. Now let’s go back to bed, you’re going to be even more moody tomorrow.

I’m not moody!

You hummed, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom. You both laid down and he took you in his arms, needing to feel you close to make sure you were here. He would never admit it but for a minute he got scared downstairs when he was on his back in the kitchen. For just a few second he thought that maybe it could be the end for him, leaving you and Ellie alone and that thought alone made him fight back with everything he had.

Hey Miller? You asked in the darkness. I will run miles for you. You simply said, getting deeper in his embrace.

You smiled against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beating faster.

[cecilceleste]

Good ol’ loving with Izuku!

psa: established afab reader, onomatopoeias, izuku x reader, no protection

|+ nsfw under the cut.

you’ve been warned, MDNI !

an: enjoy, and stay gooning! (･ω<)☆

— after being together for the better half of 3 years, you and izuku had pretty much taken each other’s first, well, everything. first date, first kiss, first deep conversation, first time having sex. if it can be a first, you’ve done it together.

the stamina of him is absolutely UNMATCHED. running a 10k? he’ll be home in an hour! 20 flights of stairs? see you in 30! just finished swimming 12 laps? why not make it to 20?

it was no surprise when he begged for round after round in the bedroom. he’d grab your hips, whining, begging, for another chance at your inviting, warm, gummy walls.

“you take me so well.” he whined, pumping into you again even after you’ve both came at least twice.

“she’s too welcoming.” he groaned, thrusting into you from behind as his hands were planted on the headboard.

your pleasure always came before his. did you mind? not at all. however.. sometimes you felt that he never truly let himself relish in a true, breath taking, star gazing, body trembling relief. you wanted him to feel wanted, to feel all the feelings he had given you.

this is how the idea of pegging came about.

“izuku.” you hummed.

“yes love?” he responded, turning away from his laptop at his desk.

“i’m horny.”

it was stated so casually that he didn’t even truly register what you had said.

“what?—“

his question was quickly cut off by a swift kiss to his lips. before anything registered, your hands were down the front of his sweats, nails clawing and cat-pawing at his already growing bulge.

his brows turned upwards and his breath became ragged.

“ba—by wait! please i— mmmmff..”

he whimpered.

but wait? who has time to wait?

you pulled him up from his chair, hands now resting on his hips as you continued to walk him backwards to the bed. he stumbled back into the bed, laying back as you hovered over him. his hands itched above his head as he looked up at you.

you didn’t give him time to speak before you were already undressing him. you pulled his sweats down to his ankles, leaving him in nothing but red boxers with an obvious tent, and small wet patch where his tip rested snug.

“i want to make you feel how you’ve always made me feel. good.”

he swallowed, only nodding. his nipples suddenly perked up, light pink and tiny.

you were quick to release his aching shaft. you pulled his boxers down with one hooked finger. his member sprung free, his tip red and shades of purple, angry, and leaking.

“so pretty ‘zuzu..”

your praised always immediately made him brain dead. he became rutting up into nothing but the air.

“touch me..” his voice small, but nonetheless pleading.

“i’ll get there baby, be patient for me, yeah?”

he sighed defeatedly.

you knelt down and pulled out a shoe box. inside were everything to make his night. lube and a hefty full 12” dildo.

his eyes were eager as they looked over the edge of the bed. what were you doing? his whimpered again but this with impatience.

you popped back up, strapped up, rubbing a white paste up and down the length of the dildo. he gasped.

you crawled over him, pushing his knees fully to his chest, one hand plastered on the back of his thigh while the other traced his hole.

“i’m prepping you okay? i want you to take all of me and for you to do that, you’ll need to be stretched. i’ll take good care of you. you trust me, and remember our safe word don’t you?”

he took a deep breath and nodded.

“good boy.” you ruffled his hair before retreating your hand back to his hole. you traced it a couple of times, slowly and lovingly. like you actually cared for it—which you did, you cared for every part of him—.

you eased your middle finger in, he clenched around it, almost suffocatingly tight.

“uuh!” he moaned like a school girl, you loved it.

“it’s okay, just my finger. i’ll need to loosen you up quite a bit..” you were mainly talking to yourself but part of you wanted to reassure him too.

his cock was sat up between his too thighs, his tip making full contact with him. he whined.

you noticed his eyes flickering between you and his cock.

“go ahead baby, you can touch yourself.”

his hand immediately found its way to his shaft. he thumbed his tip, moaning.

“hnn.. mm.. yeah..”

as he occupied himself with his working hands, you continued prepping him. you pushed your ring finger in next and bless him, he spasmed, moaning once again.

“ah!”

he squeezed his base, quickly smearing his pre-cum over with his thumb.

he clenched harder around your fingers this time, barely allowing your knuckles to make it in. you knew he would stay tight no matter how much or long you prepped him, why not go ahead and bite the bullet?

you aligned your tip with his hole, circling it.

“ready baby? it’s big, okay? but i’m gonna make you feel so full. you’ll feel it in your tummy..”

you pressed on his stomach with one hand while the other eased 3” in. he squeezed so tightly you couldn’t move. his body visibly moving up the bed.

“let me in baby. you’re going to take all 12” and i have all day.”

you huffed, forcing in another 2”.

“7 more inches.”

he shuddered. you pulled out and he made a sound mixed between a sigh and a whine.

suddenly, you pounded into him, lube and cum mixing messily as it eased the strap in. you were only 7 inches in now.

his hand stopped frozen between his thighs, immediately feeling a bubbling sensation in his stomach.

“haaaa! nghh! mmm! mmm!”

his eyes were squeezed shut as you used him.

you flipped him over with ease, pulling him flush against you as you moved his hips for him.

“up and down.. up and down.. up and down..” you commented, holding his hips and slamming him down into yourself.

his brain fogged, he didn’t understand anything you said as loud “slap!” and “plap!” noises filled the entirety of the room. his own cook bounced up and down, the fake blue balls behind him slamming against the back of his thigh.

each thrust into him was another inch. eventually, all 12” were being rapidly shoved inside him. he fell forward as he sat on your cock. you laid over him, smacking his arse and telling him to “take it slut.. take it!”

his poor, neglected, (not so) little shaft only gained friction from between his stomach and the bed sheets. he rutted into the bed, feeling himself get close.

“go—guh! gonna.. come! coming! coming!”

you planted one hand on the bed beside his face, and used the other to pull him into a kiss. as your teeth clashed and tongues danced, you whispered the magic words into his ear.

“go ahead. come. make a mess on me, sweet boy.”

and he did. white loads spurted out of his tip. thick, stringy ropes shot onto the bed and his own face. his lip lifted on one side, his eyes shut, tongue out, he came undone. his body shook as load after load left his body.

you dragged your hand down to his stomach and pressed, feeling yourself deep within him.

“feeling full, are you?”

“so full.. so full of you..” he babbled.

you pulled out slowly, the toy leaving him with a small “pop!”

he shook beneath you, whining, almost crying.

“you did so good. so, so, so, so good for me baby.” you ran your hands through his hair as he sat up and leaned back against your chest. his head fell back onto your shoulder and his mouth was still agape.

“one more time.” he asked breathlessly.

you couldn’t help but smirk as you lined yourself back up to his hole.

[solmire]

People are not ready for sub!Kento and they should be ashamed😕

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader

contents: fluff, suggestive. arranged marriage au. hints of slow burn. you like playing hard to get and he loves calling you his wife. 1.4k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ I had to deposit my messy thoughts somewhere and this headcanon post was the result.

part two here. ꒱

⭒ Arranged marriage with Sylus where he prefers to call it a “strategic partnership” as a means of appearances to flaunt that he has it all—an empire, riches, strength, influence and now a darling wife who waits for him at home. You’re not so much as a random choice, Sylus had been watching you from afar for a while and in exchange for his protection in the N109 zone he strikes a deal with you to play a simple role. You have every reason to be wary of him and know to keep your wits about yourself, but even you acknowledge that your chances are better with him. Though, if you asked him how he was so certain you’d agree to his proposal he’d admit that he wasn’t but he knew you’d consider it if he had an advantage over you.

⭒ He sets his terms and conditions—you reside in his humble abode, wedding ring always worn on your finger, and attend events with him as a pretty accessory on his arm to contribute to his image. But he’ll never admit that he actually enjoys your company at business functions that often feel dull to him. You are more than welcome to spend your days as you please so long you don’t cause him trouble, and that also means you have his black card privileges to spoil yourself rotten. Of course, he accommodates most requests you may have like sleeping in separate rooms if that’s what you wish (and redecorating because his furnishing decisions are quite bleak).

⭒ Luke and Kieran can sense that their boss feels something for you despite his nonchalance toward this little arrangement. It starts off small, it always does—Sylus takes note of your morning and night routine, your picky eating habits and has the chef make adjustments to your preference, how he sees you out in the gardens and come back with spring tulips to brighten the space and the next week he already replaced the slowly withering flowers with fresh ones. The twins whisper among themselves that he’s often less annoyed and irritated when you’re around, and their boss wouldn’t go through the trouble of being considerate unless he cares for you. It’s almost exciting for them both to witness a budding romance unfold before their very eyes and they do offer a helping hand here and there to keep things interesting.

⭒ Sylus thinks it’s adorable how you keep trying to resist him and that’s precisely the reason he loves seeking you out just to watch your resolve crumble under his touch. He finds you in the kitchen preparing a snack and cages you from behind with his hands planted on either side of you against the counter. “Hey kitten, I thought I’d find you in here.” You feel his hot breath down your neck as he pushes your hair aside just enough to lay a soft kiss on your shoulder. He chuckles when you comment that he’s being awfully touchy with you, and he purposely moves closer so that his chest is pressing against your back. “Perhaps I just can’t keep my hands to myself where you’re involved. Besides, you’re my wife now. I think I have the right to touch you whenever I like.”

⭒ You remind him that you’re his wife in title only, but that doesn’t discourage his flirtation and teasing as he allows you to nudge past him. He follows you into the common area and takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide and taking up a lot of space. His gaze is settled on you as he pats his thigh and his lips curl into a smirk. “Come here, wife.” You naturally scoff meanwhile you place the plate of seasonal fruits on the side table and situate yourself closest to the armrest, taking a bite into a juicy red strawberry as you ignore his piercing stare.

⭒ For someone who always gets what he wants, Sylus isn’t used to being defied like this. And had it been anyone else his patience would wear dangerously thin, but he supposes that you’re a special exception because he seems to enjoy the chase and claiming its reward. With one small gesture, he drags you across the couch by a gravitational pull and you squeal when the swirling red easily turn and maneuver you so you’re forced to straddle him and your hands prop on his shoulders for support. “There, much better. Comfy? This is the best seat in the house.” His gaze locks with yours, and he thinks you huffing and frowning at him is simply cute. He firmly grabs your wrist with the bitten strawberry in your hand and lifts it to his mouth for a sweet taste.

⭒ “No fair… using your Evol against me like this.” You grumble under your breath as you gently trail your thumb from his chin to the corner of his mouth where the strawberry juices began to spill. Then an impulsive thought takes over and you pinch his cheek between your fingers, creating a sticky mess on his face. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. That’s for treating me like a sack of potatoes.” He chuckles once more, his hand falling on your hip and he gives you a light squeeze. “Oh, I do have every intention of fully enjoying my wife tonight.” And by that, he means taking you out for a joyride on his motorbike and feeling your arms wrapped around him tightly as the engine roars through the streets under the night sky and sinking moon. Sylus would never engage in any intimate acts you weren’t ready for, but he loves seeing you fluster at his suggestive remarks.

⭒ As the weeks cross over into months, you never imagined that you’d be spending so much time with Sylus outside of your agreed terms. He’s everywhere in every waking moment of your life even when he’s not there physically. You’re learning new things about him each day and you (begrudgingly) like being around him—even when he can sometimes be a playful bully toward you. When he’s gone for long stretches of time to deal with negotiations and other important matters in the N109 zone, you can feel your heart yearning for him but you’d never say that you miss him out loud when you think he's still toying with you. But with the way he cares for you like you’re both in a real and genuine relationship, it’s hard to know his true intentions and keep your feelings buried deep inside your chest for long.

⭒ You accidentally confirm that Sylus does harbor romantic feelings for you when you carelessly bring up your replacement in a lighthearted joke. You’ve never seen his face falter so quickly at your words as he averts his gaze for a moment to collect himself—a hint of vulnerability in his crimson hues. “I wouldn’t have found a new wife.” He shakes his head and tells you, his voice a little rougher than before. You don’t know what to say, but you manage a soft “No?” that reaches his ears. “No. I wouldn’t have been able to replace you, kitten. You’re it for me. The only one. No one could fill the void you’d leave behind.”

⭒ You and Sylus have kissed before, but this is the first time you’re initiating it. As you brush your lips against his, there’s a softness you never noticed. His hand slips around the small of your back and he pulls you close against him, returning your kiss with the same tenderness as though savoring the taste of you. You lean back after a moment, your palm meeting his cheek in a sweet embrace. “You know, I'm still getting used to the idea that I’ve fallen for you.” You can see him returning back to normal when he offers you a cocky smirk. “And yet here you are. In my arms, with your lips on mine. I think you’re not being entirely honest, my beautiful wife.” Sylus has waited a long time to hear those words from you but you don’t need to know that right now.

[mixingandmelting]

Heavy Blanket

Summary: You were cold and needed a blanket. He decides to be that blanket only to get too comfy and lay on top of you longer than needed

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You’re hot. Sweltering. Wheezing. Lungs close to collapsing. And no matter how many times you tell him, he won’t. Get. Off.

“Simon, please.” You gently nudge his shoulder, trying to get him to look at you. “I’m suffocating here.” 

He simply grunts, nuzzling his face into your chest as his arms tighten around your chest. You suppose it’s your fault, having told him that you were cold and not wanting to get off the couch to get a blanket. You just.. didn’t expect him to take it quite literally and provide you a heavy, weighted one (i.e., him). 

You sigh. Maybe you could push him off…? You glance down only to be reminded how massive he is, easily engulfing your being so that it looks like there’s simply a single person on the sofa. Hell, the only indication you’re even lying there is your head and arms poking out from underneath. No body, just ligaments. 

Yeah. It’s Not happening. As if sensing your disgruntlement, he lifts his head so his eyes would be looking into yours. For a moment the two of you stare, waging a wordless battle.

“…For a person called ghost, you’re so cheeky.”

He snorts, going back to comfortably resting his head on your chest.

“Only to you, love. Only to you.” 

Took the words right out of your mouth. 

Shaking your head in exasperation, you card your fingers through his hair. Welp. laundry is definitely not getting done today. 

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

“Johnny?”

“No.”

“Johnny.”

“No.”

“John Mactavish.”

That gets him to lift his head up. You try not to snort at the offended look he gives you, his eyes asking if you had seriously just used his full name over something like this. Instead, you take this chance to finally get some precious O2 in your lungs and enjoy weight being lifted off of you. Literally. 

You had forgot and now remembered his biceps are the size of your head when he props onto his elbows, bright blue eyes staring directly into yours. 

“Luvie, I’m not John Mactavish to you. Am I?” 

“No. But,” you shuffle to get around but he doesn’t budge. Dammit. “You are a furnace. Heavy, hard, and exuding only heat.” 

Instantly you regret saying that, recognizing the glint in his eyes. 

“Heavy and hard, aye?”  

One hand to cover your burning face, you use the other to smack his chest. You and your stupid mouth. Him and his stupid, smug, smirk. Chuckling, he moves and gets comfortable before snuggling you again. At least he’s being mindful this time, making sure you aren’t feeling as if you’re being flattened into a pancake. As for you, you nuzzle your face into the junction where his neck and shoulder meet. It’s going to take a while for you to function, the embarrassment still fresh and searing your soul. 

Kim Hong Jin "Horangi"

You swear you’re dating a giant cat, not a tiger. The ones that enjoy pushing a glass off the table while you’re looking and begging with your eyes not to. Smiling as some crying lady points at them over a salad. 

You’ve been shoving and pushing him by the shoulders, and so far you’ve successfully freed half of your upper body (more like that’s the only leeway he’s willing to give but you choose to ignore that).

“Hong Jin.” You pant between each word, exhausted and having much of your strength sapped out of you. “You need to let go.”

“싫은데?“ (Don’t want to?) 

…This man and his nerves. 

“No, seriously.” You nudge him, hoping it would get your message across. “I can’t even feel my legs.”

“Just five more minutes.” His groan coming out muffled from him burying his face into your tummy. 

Five minutes ago he said that. Which was also what he said five minutes before that. Now you’re uncomfortable, feeling the half of you he’s holding onto sweat while the other feels chilly from the sudden loss of heat. Worst is how effortless it is for him to keep you still, lazily lying on top of you being enough to stop you from worming yourself out. Like sure, you do enjoy how well-built he is but not like this! 

Sucking a breath in, you go back trying to pry yourself off as he stays where he is, eyes closed and a grin plastered on his face. 

König 

A king-size mattress. That’s what he is. And certainly feels that way too with how he easily engulfs both you and the bed. 

“Konig.” You gently shake him, only for him to turn his head. 

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry though, at the moment, it would hurt if you do either. Every time you try calling him out or getting his attention, he’d turn his head where he’d lie on one cheek then flip to the other. He doesn’t even make a sound. No harrumphs, grunts, or a sigh. All of you wanted to do was go get ready since the two of you are supposed to meet with his friends. Now? Not happening. 

“We need to get ready. It’s already quarter past five.” 

He squeezes your waist in response, snuggling himself into you. Just like a petulant kid, thinking if he doesn’t say anything and pretends to not hear you, you would stop. You try to slip from being underneath him, not enjoying being the filling in the mattress sandwich. Unfortunately for you, fortunately for him, you give up in less than ten seconds realizing how much you’d have to go through to just get a hand out. 

You raise your hand to place it on his shoulder until he stops you by grabbing at the wrist. He drags and presses it against his cheek, making you feel stubbles under your fingertips. Biting your lip, you close your eyes and mentally count from ten. 

“You better text them we’re not going.” You grumble, cupping his face in your hands. 

“Already did.”

You shake your head. This man. 

[lov3notts]

"you what?"

ᥫ᭡Theodore Nott x F!Readerᥫ᭡

summary: accidentally drinking a lust potion, you asked your best friend Theo for help.

warning: smut, cursing, unprotected sex, size kink maybe? cream pie.

word count: 2.4k

18+only; minors don’t interact

Navigation; masterlist; request rules

“You what?” Theo’s eyes widened, you wanted him to do what? He wasn’t sure if this was a dream or not but if it was he didn’t want to wake up

Earlier that day , you had accidentally drank a lust potion. 

How, you might ask?

Well the boys (Enzo/ Mattheo) thought it would be funny to prank Draco by giving him a lust potion as payback for pranking them earlier that week

At lunch the 2 boys were there first, taking their usual spots they slip the potion to a bottle of Draco's favorite drink and placing it on the spot were Draco usually sits

One by one the group gets to the table ,leaving you and Draco left. 

Soon both of you walk in, but you seem to be in a rush

“Sorry guys I can’t stay and chat, I have to get back to studying, i’m just here to get some food to eat while studying” grabbing random things and the only drink you see left, you quickly stuff it in your purse

“Wait y/n!” Enzo saying frantically, giving Matt a worried look

You look up at Enzo as you start to zip up your bag. “Yeah?” 

“We were actually saving that for Draco, um- were having practice later and that’s his favorite”

“Omg I’m so sorry! Here-“ as your opening you bag Draco comes behind you , going to sit down 

“I actually got my own drink, y/n can have it” Dracos says while pulling out his drink from his bag,

Enzo’s and Mattheos’s eye widen.

“I- um, but we got it for you” Matt says with a bit of a shaky voice 

“Its fine, I don’t need it” as he waves his drink showing the 2 boys

“But-“ 

“Omg thank you Draco, I really have to go now guys see you later” you say as you're walking away before the boys have a chance to take away the drink.

Both Enzo and Matt try to call you back but you’re already gone, both freaking out inside. praying you don't find out what they did.

While studying in your dorm you couldn’t focus for more than 10 seconds. Thinking you might just be tired from all the studying you took a break. Getting up from your desk you head towards your bed. Laying in your bed you start to space out

At first it was all innocent thoughts, school, weekend plans but then they started to shift The only thing you could think of was pleasure. Thinking of a certain boy made your cunt throb, making your body hot

Your hand slowly creeps down to your shorts. Slowly playing with yourself imagining it was Theo’s fingers rubbing circles on your clit.

“Oh god Theo” you moaned 

but no matter how good it felt you couldn’t reach your climax. You were so needy and nothing was working. The rising heat from your body only made things more uncomfortable.

“God what is wrong with me, and why is it so hot” getting up from your bed you walk towards your desk, trying to find your drink, in hopes of it cooling you down . You picked up the bottle and before you can finish the drink you saw something written on the bottom of the bottle

“Payback- Enzo and Mattheo”

Your eyes widened with confusion. 

What?

Then you remembered how the drink was meant for Draco. 

everything started to make sense

This is why you were like this

You couldn’t even be mad at them, Your mind was clouded with the urge to get any satisfaction you could. all you wanted was any sort of pleasure but nothing was good enough. it started to get painful and a sudden thought popped in your head. Theo

he’d help right? He was really the only one you can go to. 

Your heart was racing at just the thought of Theo agreeing to help you out, being best friends all these years you had developed a crush on him, of course you never acted on it because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship 

Pacing back and forth your room, you finally decide to ask him for help. Nervously picking up your phone, you open Theo’s contact.

“Theo?”

“Hey Bella, what’s up?”

The nickname itself making you get butterflies.

 “Um- I need a favor, can you come over?”

“Of course, i'll be over in a few”

“Okay see you” hanging up the phone, your thoughts begin to consume you

What if he says no?

What if he laughs at your face and runs off

What if…

What if he says yes… 

Before you can continue, there was a knock on your door. That must be him. Slowly walking to your door, palms sweaty, you turn your door knob

“Hey, what did you need help with?” Theo goes in to give you a hug

Hugging him back, your nose is infused with his cologne  

God why does he always smell so good

He lets go and looks at you closely, he moves a strain of hair behind your ear to have a better look at you. His eyebrows frown, noticing your face is flustered and incredibly warm.

“Are you okay? Your face is warm” resting his hand on your cheek

“Yeah, um actually funny story-“ Quickly leading him to sit on the edge of your bed, holding his hands as you begin to explain

“Please just hear me out. I know it's odd ,but I have no one to go to,- just please-“ falling to your knees, begging.

“Hey hey, breathe. You know I'm here if you need anything. Now tell me, what’s up?” Theo's eyes looking at you with worry.

“Please I- I need you to fuck me” you blur out

That was the last thing Theo thought would come out of your mouth. 

You wanted him to what???

He was speechless, absolutely at a loss of words. jaw wide open

“Please, I'm sorry for asking you for this, I know it’s a lot and we’re best friends. But please I can’t take it anymore. I accidentally drank something that wasn’t meant to me and it had this effect on me. I’ve tried everything but nothing is working. I need your help please” your face heating up from embarrassment . I mean you only ever had the biggest crush on your best friend for years, but what you didn’t know was that so did Theo.

Theo had dreamt of the day he got to be with you.

How’d he spend hours pleasuring himself of the thought of you under him, on top of him and how good you’d take him in your mouth. God, was he hard the second you asked him to help you out.

How could he say no? 

Without another thought he picked you up from the floor. Sitting down back on your bed while you straddled his lap.

Looking into your eyes, moving a piece of your hair behind your ear, resting his hand on your cheek, he leaded in.  

Your soft lips on his, both whimpering into the intense kiss. Licking your bottom lip asking for access. You gladly gave it to him. 

Slowly rocking your hips on his clothed boner, trying to find any friction to satisfy you.

Slowly laying you down your bed, taking off your clothes until you were left in nothing but your matching black lace set. 

“Don’t worry Bella, i’ll take good care of you” Theo whispers as he starts to leave a trail of kisses down your body

“Theo please~” you pleaded, needing to feel something, anything.

“poor thing, you’ve must of been so uncomfortable for such a long time, don’t worry i’m here now”

He stopped to look at your lying body, face all flustered, messy hair. 

“God you’re so beautiful” he wasn’t lying, he’d always thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Always jealous of your ex boyfriends because they got to be with you. But now it was his turn and he was going to give you the best you’d ever gotten, he was going to ruin every other guy you’ve been with. 

Slowly pulling your panties off, dick throbbing at the sight of your wet glistening pussy. Trying to ignore his throbbing cock and focus on you, he gives you a sweet smile. 

“You're soaking wet, so ready for me” leaving little kisses around your pussy, teasing. finally burying his face between your legs, painfully slow licks as he takes it in, savoring every moment. 

As soon as you felt his tongue, you became a whimpering mess.  

“Theo~ oh my god yes” moving your hand to his hair, giving it a little tug. 

Theo couldn’t hold it in anymore, he started to devour you. eating you out as if he’d never get this opportunity ever again

“You taste so fucken good” he groaned against your dripping core. The vibrations sending you waves of pleasure 

“More please, Theo! oh my god~” it felt so good, his tongue making you feel things you’ve never felt before with anyone else

“So polite, even when your so needy” Theo smirked as he sees how much of a mess you were for him

He starts so pump one of his fingering into you while eating you out. Soon enough you felt the feeling you were craving for

“M-so close, fuck Theo i’m so close”

He stops what he’s doing, getting up grasping on his zipper and undoing the button. Tugging his jeans and boxers off. 

“Theo? Why’d you stop? I was so close” you looked at him with teary eyes. you were so close, god why did he stop

“Sorry princess, I wanna be in you, want you cum on my cock” godddd was he hot

His cock strung out his pants hitting his stomach , you were lost for words. In no world was Theodore Nott small, he was big- huge even. you’ve never taken anything close to his size.

Theo noticed your starring

“Like what you see?” A smile tugged the corner of his lips

“Don’t worry you can take it, I know you can”

You nodded at his works 

He lined himself up to your pussy, tracing himself up and down, teasing you.

“You have no idea how long i've been wanting to do this for” 

“Fuck ,Theo please, please fuck me” you whined 

“Anything for you, love”

he slowly pushed himself into you. You both let out a loud moan. 

“fuck, your so tight” Theo was out of breath.

You felt so good around him that he never wanted this moment to end.

“fuck Theo your big” you said panting 

“You think you can take more?”

More???

“There’s more??” Looking at Theo with a disbelief face

He chuckled “i’m only have way”

“Don’t worry you can handle it, can’t you baby?”

“Mhm- yes yes, I can take it”

Pushing the reset of himself into you. bottoming you out. heavily breathing, getting comfortable with the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“good girl ,You’re doing so well for me, are you ready?”

“Yes! fuck-please move, please” you begged

Brining your legs above his shoulders and laying them there. Gripping your ankles to keep you steady as he started to thrust into you. Both a moaning mess

“Fuck fuck fuckkk, Theo-” your eyes roll back, arching your back.

“You feel so good Bella, oh god-“ panting 

“Your squeezing me tight- fuck”

One of his hands moving to your waist. fucking you harder now, unable to stop. His cock was so fucking good, hitting your g-spot every time.

“Fuck Theo just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop please!” Your hands holding onto your bed sheets as he rocks his hips.

“You like that huh? You like it when your best friend is pounding into you, god you look so beautiful, taking all of me like a good girl” he groans while leaving kisses on your ankle.

Your walls clenching at his words

He groaned again as he felt your cunt throb at his praise. 

“Oh you like being called a good girl don’t you?” letting go of your ankle to grip your jaw to make you look at him.

“Who's a good girl are you?” Theo says as he speeds up his thrusts

Looking at him with half lidded eyes “Yours, all yours!!~“ you moan

“That’s right all mine, no one can ever make you feel this good, isn’t that right love?”

 “Mhm only you, ah~ i'm so close”

“Cum for me baby, come all over my cock”

You were absolute bliss, god you’ve never seen fucked this good, yeah you’ve had other hookups but nothing can compared to this, to Theo

You moaned loudly, shutting your eyes as you reached your orgasm “im- im cumming!!” Your body shaking from the overwhelming feeling

The way your walls clenched from cumming made Theo on the verge of spilling. He continues to thrust into you through your first orgasm. He didn’t expect you make such a mess all over his dick, your cum spilling out of you as he thrusts into you

You felt Theo twitch inside of you, knowing he’s close you moved his hand from your waist to your breasts.

“Mmm so soft…” Theo whispered. leaning down, putting his tongue on your nipple, swirling it around. “Mmm Theo that feels good” throwing your head back from a little act. Theo was soon approaching his climax.  

“Fuckk- can I cum inside of you? please oh god I can’t hold it anymore, please? Fuck-” Theo begged as he tried to hold it in, waiting for you response 

“Yes!! fuck Theo cum inside me” you practically screamed as you felt you stomach tighten.

He let out a loud moan as he spilled his cum inside of you. You screamed as you felt his warm cum spilling in you, triggering your second orgasm.

Theo’s thrusts became sloppy, riding out both your highs. He pulled out and laid beside you. Dizzy and breathless, taking a moment to catch your breath.  Finally when you both got steady, you look up at Theo

“Thank you Theo, really”

“No need to thank me Bella, you can come to me for anything anytime” smiling at you.

crawling onto his lap you whispered into his ear “stay the night? I don’t think the drink has worn off just yet~”

This was going to be a long night for Theo.

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

a/n: Thank you for reading my first ever fic!! a special mention to @leona-hawthorne for being an angel and giving me feedback on my first rough draft. It helped a lot:)!! another honorable mention to @nottsangel!! Im that anon who mentioned writing their first story, hope you like it^-^ thank you both, your blogs have inspired me to start writing. xoxo

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

[abysswalkerastraea1]

Sporadic Contingency

The predicament you found yourself in was utterly unfathomable. Death was yet to come for you, perhaps it was because you had a lot to offer the clown; he in turn reciprocated. Perhaps he thought you were amusing, for now.

Your morals must be twisted because one thing was for certain: There was no denying the unshakeable, terrifying tension building between the two of you.

12,400 words

Slow burn

Rough sex (obviously!!)

Art being a fucking dom

The predicament you found yourself in was utterly unfathomable. In fact, thinking back through foggy thoughts, you couldn't really trace back to where this started.

You supposed fate aligned correctly for you. Logically speaking, you had a lot to offer the clown, and he in turn reciprocated favours.

Living within the vast forest adjacent to miles county, not many people ventured into the thick greenery. You had resided here for some time, at first with your father and then on your own once he passed.

You're grateful for the fact that your father had such a lively business. If not for that, you doubt you'd ever be able to live so well and comfortably all alone on the outskirts of the county.

You lived in an old cottage with ample firewood to stay warm and luscious land that stretched afar. A lot of it you used to keep animals.

You were accustomed to fattening the pigs up through spring while they birthed their young and slaughtering them in the winter for food supply. It was just another day at work for you; not that you had to work. You could live amiably without any need of strenuous hard work like farming, but you enjoyed it.

It was more of a passionate hobby than a job.

You travelled into town for any necessities you may need in your fathers old truck, but largely remained to yourself and a chunk of the townspeople knew that.

Some called you crazy for living in nature while that killer was on the loose, but you moving into town didn't necessarily change your chances of survival.

Thus you stayed put.

It wasn't until one clear night just after Halloween did you hear a disgusting squeal coming from one of your pigs. It was the sound of a slow death, and it startled you enough to grab your late fathers shotgun and storm outside courageously to see just what the hell was stealing your livestock.

You expected an animal. What you found instead shocked you.

A man, tall and lumbering and clad in a monochromatic clown costume kneeled hunched over one of your pigs, it's body twitching and steaming as it's hot innards met the chill of the outside air.

You heard the wet sound of his hands delving into the pigs guts and gripping a handful before bringing the meat to his lips.

This stranger was eating your livestock. Devouring them like an animal, raw and uncooked and grotesquely bloody.

You remained frozen, shotgun pointed, glancing at the black bag that lay beside him full of various menacing tools stained crimson.

If your father taught you one thing, it's that you should treat people with kindness, especially the strange ones.

The weirdos are the most dangerous, and living out here all alone meant that if one ever wandered into your land, it was probably best to treat them as a guest and act amicably, if only for your own safety.

Steeling your nerves, you cocked your head at the man, seeing the gap appear in the pigs abdomen as it's organs were devoured.

"Might want to cook that, stranger." You spoke gently, shotgun lowered to the floor.

The freakish clown paused, fingers laced in guts, head turning slowly and deliberately to the side.

"Tastes better that way, personally. Cooked, I mean." You shifted nervously from foot to foot, the chill of the autumn air getting through your pyjamas.

Maybe coming out here in nothing but some bottoms and a vest wasn't such a good idea.

The mans side profile was lanky even while crouched. His face held extremely prominent features, and you began to wonder if they were prosthetic or not.

You dared to step directly behind the stranger, his blood shot eye staring at you from the corner, pig entrails held frozen. They were cold now.

"Come with me. I can cook that right up for you, throw a few herbs and spices in and make that a great dish."

The clown let the guts slip through his fingers, gloves tainted red, and stood to his feet slowly. Your breath froze in your throat at the way his height seemed to grow and grow as he extended fully, back straight and rigid, and turned around almost menacingly to stare down at you with a dirty grimace.

Apart from the bizarre clown face paint, he appeared incredibly beat up. His one eye was completely red, and you wondered if it was simply shut from injury or if it had been gouged out. It was hard to tell with the amount of blood covering it.

He had a few large gashes littering his body in various places too. His clown costume was ripped terribly.

You both stood silently, your body shivering lightly at the blustery wind and your hair tousling gently. The clown remained unperturbed to the elements.

His good eye was narrowed into a glare, face contorting in an ugly fashion, eyeing your bare feet, your lowered shotgun, up to your bare shoulders and then finally back to your face.

An ominous smirk began to stretch across the strangers visage. It was actually rather unsettling, even without the pigs blood covering him. Merely the smirk alone set your nerves on edge.

You cocked your hip, hand resting on it comfortably as you stared up at him. "So, what do you say? It's a cold night, and you're looking a little worse for wear. Come on in, I'll help you out." Your words were true, and you think the stranger sensed that, but he seemed keenly aware of the way your voice shook.

You don't know how you knew that. Maybe it was the way his lifeless eyes shined dimly at the way it shook. Eventually, the clown nodded slowly, wordless.

You offered him a smile and a nod of finality. "Great. Follow me, if you would." You dared to turn away from this maniac, though you supposed if he wanted to kill you he could easily do that while you were looking at him; He was huge.

Not in the muscular sense, but in height he was at least a head and a half taller than you. Incredibly lanky and thin but from the way he was devouring that pig, he definitely had strength.

Walking a few steps, you paused suddenly and spun around, your silent guest directly behind you. It startled you but you tried not to let it show. "Mind grabbing the rest of the pig? Wouldn't want it going to waste. I'd do it myself, but you know how a lady gets.", you chuckled breathily; it was hard to speak when his void eyes were staring at you, smirk still somehow present and frozen on his face.

"--Don't want to dirty these pyjamas, they're my favourite. And, pardon me for saying but you're already dirty, and you'd no doubt be able to pick it up with ease, so..", you finished lamely, smiling as genuinely as you could.

It felt forced that time. He was starting to unnerve you.

Finally, the clowns expression fell into one of light thought, doing a visual sweep of your stature. It embarrassed you slightly, maybe he was judging your pyjamas. They were simple, but your favourite. Or maybe he silently agreed that yes, he could easily pick the animal up compared to you.

Dead weight was heavy, after all. And he was a big guy, in a sense.

The clown grinned this time, large and sharp, showcasing bloodied teeth, before nodding vigorously. Clapping excitedly, he hunched down to gather up the pig remains and nodded at you, as though to say 'lead the way'.

Smiling in return, you turned and led him to your home.

As soon as your back faced him, your expression morphed into one of doubt and anxiety.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

That was some time ago. It was mid winter now, and Art - the odd clown that had spelled his name to you in blood on your window - was no where to be seen.

You hadn't seen him for two weeks, he often appeared when he wanted and left for days on end too.

You had both settled into an accord of sorts.

The clown was a maniac, yes, and had often tricked and teased and terrified you with knives and hammers, pretending to finally put an end to you only to stop millimeters from your face, laughing silently and slapping his knee dramatically.

You screamed each time, gripping your chest in terror but forcing a breathy laugh to escape you, shaking your head. "Got me again, Art. When will I ever learn?" You tutted, voice shaking and body trembling.

You knew it was only a matter of time before he killed you, surely. So, you did things to keep him happy.

Like offering your old, worn out barn as his work place to fix up his weapons or create new traps. It was dingy and damp, but Art didn't even mind. His mouth opened into a perfect 'o' shape, eyebrows high in surprise, pointing to himself and then to the barn.

"Yes," you had confirmed to him, "the barn is yours. Do what you like with it, I.." you had paused. Art sensed something was left out and cocked his head at you with a menacing smile, hand under his chin as though he was ready to listen to you spill a secret.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Art. Im happy to give you the barn, you do what you want in there and I won't ask questions, but in return I was wondering if now and again, when you're free to of course, if you could help me around the place?", you asked softly, sweetly, your round eyes staring up at him so innocently he often wondered if he should pinch your cheeks until the flesh tears off or flail you.

Maybe not yet. He liked having you around for now. You were sweet and entertaining, and cooked good meals.

Art tilted his head left and right in deep thought, eyes rolling up to the sky as though truly debating with himself, before his large hands suddenly slammed down onto your shoulders heavily, causing you to gasp aloud, eyes wide.

Art began to silently laugh, lifting a finger and thumb to roughly tug at your cheek, before nodding excitedly.

You sighed in relief. Well, you couldn't very well ask him to spare your life as a favour, so you supposed asking him to help you with chores was your only option.

In a way, you think he was amused by how ballsy you were. He was terrifying, after all.

Thinking back to the present day, you hadnt seen him for two weeks, which meant he was either out on a killing spree or recuperating after a nasty fight.

You've since gathered that this man, this thing, isn't really human. He eats because he enjoys it, but you've seen him go weeks without food. This thing you've allowed into your home was demonic, and its sick how fond of him youre growing.

Sighing, you felt fatigue catching up with you as you had spent the last few hours tending to the fields, animals, and other chores such as gathering wood and cutting them into pieces.

Mindlessly lost in thought, you bent down to pick up a log, putting it into place and heaving the axe up ready to cut it. Your arms were shaking; how long ago did you eat? Well, it was around 4pm now, and you've been busy since around 7am, so it's been far too long, and you were ridiculously sweaty even in the mild winters day.

You lifted the axe, elbows suffering and shaking, before huffing loudly and dropping it back down. You really needed a break but you also really needed to start getting this wood ready for the cold winter nights.

Determination taking over your features, you lifted it again, fatigue overwhelming you but to hell with it because you had things to do before nightfall. Inhaling deeply, you lifted it high, stumbling forward as you let the axe split the wood sloppily; it was very off mark, and if your father was here right now he'd make you do it again.

The axe embedded itself into the surface below, and with both hands you gripped the handle to try and wrench it out but to no avail.

Huffing agitatedly, you gritted your teeth and tried again.

The sound of a honk startled you, your entire body jumping and a yelp escaping your throat as you spund around with a hand held to your chest.

"Art!", your tone held accusation but you still laughed. "How long have you been standing there? Please dont tell me you witnessed my horrible attempt at cutting wood.."

Art shrugged, picking up the pathetic attempt at cutting the log in half and scrutinizing it. He shook his head and closed his eyes as though disappointed.

You flushed in embarrassment. "Yeah, that really was a sorry attempt..", you turned back to the axe, gripping it and tugging. It didn't budge.

Suddenly, a pale, gloved hand gripped the handle and ripped it out with ease. You blinked at him in shock, watching at how he slyly looked down at the axe in his hands and then at you, rolling his eyes as though to say 'have I got to do everything around here?'

For a speechless clown, he was sassy. And terrifying.

You smiled tiredly. "Thanks. I'm so hungry and sweaty and gross and ugh--", you shook your head, "ignore me. Are you hungry? I'll go and--"

Fingertips touched your lips to silence you, and then a finger shot into the air, telling you to wait. The clown eagerly knelt down to rummage through his bag of..mysteries.

He excitedly rubbed his hands together as he found what he was looking for, and delved in to grab it tightly.

The clown spun around to face you, item hidden in box, and closed his eyes dramatically, then stared at you pointedly.

"Oh, um..Close my eyes?", the clown nodded happily at you being able to understand.

Your pulse increased, fear gripping you. You wouldn't refuse him. Closing your eyes slowly, you held your hands out. "I-I trust you, Art. No funny games, okay? Please.", you pouted.

Art cocked his head at your pouting lips and shaking hands. He had that unexplainable urge to squeeze you tightly and also cut your lips off with a scissors. You were adorable, he'd admit that. He wondered if a day would ever come where you'd flutter your cute eyelashes at him and he'd grab a knife and burst your dazzling blue orbs.

Maybe one day, but not today.

It was only on rare occasion that you'd catch the sadistic killer of miles county choosing to not act with violence.

You were the only rare occasion.

Pushing those tempting thoughts away, Art held the box excitedly and tip toed over to you dramatically. He was eager for you to see his gift.

Firm hands gripped your own as a box was dropped into it, only a small box.

You smiled uncertainly, eyes closed, and felt the box with your hands. Art poked at your eyelids gently for you to open them.

The box was black. Tattered. You lifted the lid slowly.

A multitude of emotions filled you. You didn't know which ones to show. Art watched eagerly, excitedly, though you could still see the sharpness of his eyes.

The box was filled to the brim with Beatles. They were squirming and hurrying over one another in an ugly display, some spilling out onto your arms before falling on the floor. Luckily, you weren't terrified of insects.

Looking at Art, he began mimicking holding an imaginary box and shaking it hard, then pointed at you.

You shook the box hard, the Beatles scattering everywhere, and gazed into the box.

Your blood ran cold.

A decapitated fox head stared at you, eyeless and bloodied with its tongue cut out and shoved into one of its eye sockets. Beatles crawled throughout its skull.

"A..Fox."

Art nodded aggressively, pointing animatedly at your chickens cooing in their pen, then at the fox, then at himself.

"Oh! You killed the fox that has been hunting my hens?"

Art clapped silently and his eyes dazzled as though screaming 'bingo! Finally!', then pointing and laughing at your pale expression and wide eyes. His gruesome smile was held wide, cutting sharp, as he buckled over in silent laughter.

Your mouth quirked upwards in amusement. Well, he was certainly keeping his end of the bargain. The fox was a pest, after all, even if his method of killing was a little..unorthodox. Not that you'd ever complain.

You couldn't help but giggle at this absurd man. "Thank you, Art. I appreciate that. Now with my hens remaining alive and well, I can make you some more of those pancakes you like once they lay their eggs."

Arts mouth opened in surprise, eyebrows raised high. He tipped his hat in a gentlemanly fashion, nodding at you as though to say it's a job well done. You agreed that it was.

Putting the box down, you gripped the axe once more, ready to return it to the shed. "Well, I'm going to have a quick shower, then how about I make us some supper?"

Art wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively, and heat lightly warmed your cheeks. Before you could reply, the axe was ripped from your hands and Art had already gotten to work with cutting some more wood. He did it flawlessly.

He shooed you away dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows one more time before chopping through the wood efficiently.

Conflicted in how easily he embarrassed you, you made your way tiredly to the bathroom. You really needed that shower.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You let the hot water wash away the stress of the day, eyes closed as you nourished an apple smelling conditioner through your hair.

You sighed, feeling ten times better already, muscles sore from the strenuous chores you barely managed to finish today.

Standing in the warm confinement of water and steam, you began to wonder if Art was still cutting wood. This led to thoughts about how bizarre it was having a murderer in your residence while you showered vulnerably. He didn't appear to want to kill you yet, and you wanted to keep it that way.

Wrapping a towel around your hair and body, you stared at your tired complexion in the mirror and frowned.

You really shouldn't be so comfortable with his ominous presence, but..

There was something quirky and charming about him, you guessed.

You soon froze at the sound of an alarm blaring.

You ran to the bathroom door, tearing it open. What was--

Was that your fire alarm blaring? But why? You had meat in your slow cooker, yes, but--

Panic surged through you as you darted out of your bathroom and bolted down the stairs. You didn't know how or why but you prayed that your kitchen was in tact.

Barreling through your living room and into the kitchen, you scrutinized the area, seeing no smoke, no fire, nothing.

Eyes wide, you ran to the slow cooker and switched it off. There wasn't even any smoke coming from it, how had your alarm gone off? Bending to check in your oven, you confirmed what you already knew - there was nothing in there.

Standing straight, hands on your hips in annoyance at that blaring alarm, you sighed aloud. Your towel remained upon your head, however loose hair had managed to escape and fall upon your shoulders from your erratic movements.

Glancing around desperately, Art was no where to be found. With his height, he could probably reach the alarm on your ceiling and deactivate it. You spent no time waiting for his possible arrival and grabbed a chair.

Lugging it over to the centre of the room, you gripped the top of it and shakily stood tall upon the chair. Reaching up high, you fiddled with the alarm, attempting to get a good grip to be able to remove it.

You huffed, making a sound of aggravation as your towel somehow remained firm around your figure, even if it was short. The water from the shower was cold on your body now and it only seemed to worsen your mood.

Finally managing to rip the damn thing from the ceiling, you removed the batteries and tossed it to the floor with a scowl. Stupid faulty alarm.

In a less than desirable mood, your hand gripped the chair to steady yourself. Before you could even put a foot on the floor, a honk sounded so close to you it had you yelping; you hadn't even sensed him let alone heard him.

Wide eyed, you stared down at the clown. His shoulder was practically brushing your outer thigh as you stood high. "Oh, Art, I didn't see you--"

A hand being thrust out to you interrupted you. He was offering his large hand to you, and although uncertain, you couldn't deny that he had a peculiar charm. Smiling, you gripped his hand with your own to steady yourself, lifting one leg to put on the floor.

Except you never did. You barely caught the malicious grin the clown gave you, eyes narrowed into slits and teeth bared as he lifted one foot backwards and kicked the chair out from under you.

The leg of the chair shattered from the force, splintering and bending as you began to topple to the floor. You screamed, eyes squeezed shut.

You thought you had whiplash at the way your hand was wrenched painfully towards his body, your figure pressed up against his as your head butted into his chest.

He had an arm around your waist, suspending your weight in the air against his body with no difficulty.

The clown remained frozen, grin still as wide and terrifying. Your feet barely brushed the floor. "Art!", you screeched, body shaking from adrenaline, hair towel fallen to the floor.

The clowns eyes snapped to yours disturbingly. Before you could berate him further, you were tossed upwards until dexterous hands rested at your shoulders and below your knees. He was holding you bridal style and it terrified you.

You cried out in shock, gripping his clown suit between white knuckles, bath towel beginning to slip ever so slightly. You felt a mixture of terror and embarrassment at being in the brutal arms of the county killer.

And the terror only increased tenfold as the clown removed his grip from supporting your shoulders for mere seconds, your body heading straight for the floor, before securing his arms around you again before you could make impact, shoulders moving in silent laughter.

You truly screamed that time, legs kicking out and arms wrapping around his neck instinctively. Your eyes squeezed shut, towel slipping even more; it mortified you.

"Oh my goodness, Art, you terrified me! And I bet it was you that set off my alarm?", you accused in a high pitched, shaky tone, grasping him incredibly tight as you felt his fingers teasingly loosen just to scare you.

Art nodded vigorously, proud and excited that he had been caught, and snapped his head down at you. His grin of sinister glee slowly morphed into a knowing, filthy smirk.

You blinked up at him vulnerably, wide and glassy eyed, rigid in his arms, before realising that oh my God, you were in a towel this entire time, a short towel that surely moved during the commotion--

He must have noticed the sudden panic in your eyes, for his lecherous smirk stretched terrifyingly, eyes narrowed.

Surprisingly pervertedly, Art glanced down at your body swiftly. Once, twice. An indication that you should probably take a look. His eyebrows wiggled, and without needing to look, your cheeks reddened, lips parted in shock.

Head snapping down at yourself, a flush spread from your neck to your cheeks. The towel had dropped so low your breasts were threatening to spill out obscenely. It didn't help that you were of ample size.

And although everything else vital was covered, the way your upper thigh was exposed had you squirming desperately to try and make some distance.

"Ah!", you cried, "my towel! Put me down!" You demanded helplessly, overcome by embarrassment as Art snickered silently at your need to protect your intimates.

Art dropped the arm holding your legs, letting them crash upon the floor painfully. The sudden downward motion had you squealing, gripping him hard. You were grateful that he supported your upper body, you supposed.

The way your body dropped had your towel falling fully for a split second before you ripped it back up to cover your modesty.

You tore yourself away from him - he let you - and stared at him with wide eyes, chest panting in fear and fluttering peculiarly.

Your hands shook as you gripped your towel, knees knocking together, withering under the intense stare of the clown as he foregone his usual dramatic, knee slapping laugh and instead almost seemed to chuckle in amusement, brows as low as they could go, head tilting in fascination at your half naked state.

He expected anger, frustration, undeniable fear at his actions towards you. What intrigued him was the way your round cheeks flared crimson and how your eyes, usually relatively confident when regarding him, fluttered everywhere but him.

Yes, he decided, head tilting left and right slowly, deciphering. You seemed incredibly flustered.

He felt lust, often. For blood, violence, but rarely sexually. Pain was sweeter than pleasure, he thought, but regarding you now, languidly staring at you from head to toe, an idea struck his mind...

An idea you couldn't decipher, but the way his eyes lit up and his eyebrows rose pleasantly sent heat flaring through you.

You didn't allow it to consume you any further as you darted up the stairs and into your room.

On the way past him, you saw his shoulders moving in a silent, mean laughter.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

That had been two days ago. Since then, you continued on as normal..

Or as normal as can be.

Art remained busy in the old barn, the sounds of hammering and God knows what else permeating the quiet air at all hours of the day, and oftentimes there would be silence; He had left.

It had been a full day and a half since you last took sight of him. It was unusual how domesticated you felt, preparing enough food for two with a little extra leftover, keeping only the dark towels in the bathroom from when he no doubt came strolling in covered in blood and took a shower.

You came to notice he was meticulously clean about things he deemed worthy, such as his clown suit and himself. He loved to bathe in his victims blood, yes, but after a fun days work, you often found him spotless. Well, apart from his teeth. Bizarrely, he didn't utterly stink, and you come to the conclusion that he chose his terrifying mouth to look that way on purpose.

That was good. You appreciated that even if he didn't necessarily do it for you.

The only thing you had gently persuaded him on was allowing you to at least dry his clown suit before putting it on. With a roll of his eyes, he allowed it.

There were very few things he allowed genuinely, and you seemed to believe he had grown accustomed to your gentle naggings of 'Art, please don't touch that with blood on your hands', or 'There was no need to trail bloody footprints all over my kitchen'

You never demanded. That probably helped. Of course he had days where he'd grin mischievously and smear blood across your mirrors and door handles, knowing you'd have to touch it and clean it.

You could live with that. Thankfully, after a night of killing, he was reasonably tame, eating whatever food you kept in your cupboards with a calm expression.

That wasn't to say that he wasn't unpredictable. He could snap on times and come at you with a knife, chasing you around the kitchen as you screeched and whined for him to stop, all the while watching him laugh with glee.

And on real scary nights when he seemed bored, well..

Anything could happen then. Even still, Art remained tame as of yet in comparison to the things he is capable of. He clearly saw a need in you, and repaid your generous cooking, cleaning and fixing up his costume for him with keeping you alive and leaving you mostly unharmed.

A cut here or there, yeah, and definitely a bruise but you were alive and well.

The only real affect he had on you was terror, he did enjoy popping up randomly in the dark when you had got up for a glass of water, hand roughly pushed over your mouth as your screams muffled into his hand before realising who had caught you.

Or the times you'd check on him in the old barn, just to see if he was around for dinner, calling his name out. Venturing in, you'd freeze as the door shut behind you, darkness enveloping the entire area, only for the sound of a flame thrower igniting near you making you scream and cover your mouth in terror.

Each time you'd ramble something like 'Art, stop it! I-Im making beef for dinner and I just wanted to check that you wanted some!'

The clown would tug on your cheeks with both hands, patting your head as though to say 'how adorable are you?' before pushing you surprisingly gently towards the door and shooing you away.

You'd run back to the house with your chest beating so loudly you could hear it in your ears.

Presently, you were wearing a cute brown dress, tights covering your legs as you cleaned around the place. Loving the winter, you brought out your cosy candles and fairy lights, loving the gentle glow as the nights grew longer and the sun faded earlier. It wasn't quite time to decorate for Christmas yet, so this will do.

In fact, having a little break from the clown had allowed you to really tidy everything up, get your chores done, see to the animals and bake some brownies in the oven.

All in all you felt refreshed and well, truly in your element. It allowed you to push.. peculiar thoughts of Art from your mind.

Time carried on, and the brownies were cooling on the baking tray as you sat comfortably on your settee, a white blanket decorated in pumpkins covering you. You loved Halloween, too.

Dropping off to sleep, your mind felt at peace until a muffled sound was heard from outside. Lifting your head, you didn't react as you awaited Art to barge in at any moment, only..nothing.

Sitting up, you waited silently, hearing that muffling once again.

You frowned. Art was a master of silence, if he didn't want you to even hear the rustling of his bag, you wouldn't.

So why did you hear leaves crunching loudly, and..

Oh.

That wasn't Art.

You could hear voices mumbling now, close to your window, though unintelligible. You wondered who it could be. You had no known close relatives, and no friends, really.

Not close enough to appear unannounced on a late Friday evening, anyway.

Living in the middle of no where, you learned to be cautious of such sounds. You had no neighbours, and hardly anyone ever passed your cottage. Those that did tended to knock politely, not skirt around your perimeter sneakily.

Aside from Art; he's different.

Standing swiftly, you opened a drawer, gripping a handgun. You could never be too careful out here all alone, and you doubted it would go down easy if you stood with your shotgun aimed at them.

Handgun it is. Hiding it furtively, you stepped outside with confidence.

The sight of two men dressed head to toe in black greeted you, peeking through your curtains.

"Can I help you?", you began politely, causing them to bolt upright and spin around to face you. You couldn't see their faces.

They weren't amicable strangers, that was for certain.

"That truck yours?", the tallest indicated with a nod of his head.

"It is."

"You, uh..you live alone?"

You smiled.

"I do."

The two men sprung into action. "You do, do you? Be a good girl and chuck me the keys."

"Why would I ever do that?" You remained calm, pulse elevating, adrenaline begining to grow.

"Why?", the other repeated with a scoff, and swiftly pulled a knife out from his pocket, "because I want to see your round ass walk away like a good bitch, so go grab those fucking keys before I cut your face off."

Talk about overboard.

Nodding politely, you backstepped. "I understand. I don't want any trouble, give me one moment, please."

You backstepped further into your house, keeping the door open.

As you did, you heard one of the men hiss 'im not a fucking murderer, let's just get the truck and fucking go!'

You had a few options here.

You could run, hide, call the police.

You shook your head and steeled your nerves. Hell no. This was your damn property.

The two men looked around cautiously, impatient. "Where the fuck is she? We should've gone in with her."

"She's terrified, bitch probably can't find the keys."

They heard the sound of a gun cocking. Loudly.

Turning back to the door, you supposed they never thought to see a shotgun aiming directly at them. You could see their eyes widen behind a black robber mask.

"Woah, hey, keep the fucking keys--", one began, hands in the air, knife dropped to the floor.

You remember holding this very shotgun the night you met Art. You smartly lowered it, knowing true evil and terror when you saw it.

But these two? They had nothing on Art. Just average men, trying hard to terrify a woman. A nasty smirk broke out on your face, one of anger and satisfaction.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen. You're going to get the fuck off my property before I blow a hole in your chest. How's that sound?"

The scared one nodded vigorously, hands jittering as he backstepped, ready to bolt. The other, however..

"You wouldn't do that. You don't have it in you.", the other tried calling your bluff, taking a leap forward. It started you, but you remained strong.

"Wouldn't I? Out here in the middle of no where, who'd ever come looking for you?"

The man shrugged. "You might be right, but whose going to look for you?"

Before you could respond a hand grabbed from behind, reaching out and gripping the barrel of your shotgun and forcing it to the sky.

You instinctively pulled the trigger, sound blasting through the forest loudly causing birds to flutter away.

How the hell did he get in the house?

The assailant was stronger than you, tearing the weapon to the floor before gripping you by the hair roughly.

You grunted in pain, hands frantically searching for the handgun on your person as the man at the bottom of your steps began coming at you too.

You managed to shoot him in the thigh, hearing him cry out and collapse.

The scared one took off in a sprint, never turning back.

The aggressive one currently ripping strands of hair from the root wrestled you to the floor after shooting his friend, boot pressing firmly on the hand that held the gun and kicking it away.

He got on top of you and held you down as you struggled and fought against his hold, head reeling to the side as he back handed you, hard.

Furniture and anything close by moved and was tossed over as you fought back, unwilling to let him pin your hands to the floor, punching a fist into his groin to get him to crumple slightly so you could lug him off with all your might.

You scrambled to your feet and made a dash to the door, barely getting halfway before a strong body wrestled you back to the floor, your hands aching from the wall as he ripped your dress from the back to keep a hold on you.

You continued scrambling ahead, reaching out for anything, hands gripping the large sewing needle you had lost some time ago and turning to stab it into his cheek.

The man hissed, face turned into an ugly snarl as he staggered back in pain, holding the wound.

You up and ran, panting and panicking as you frantically made it outside.

The man didn't let up, he ruthlessly grabbed your hair causing you to cry out and slapped you so hard across the face you saw stars.

Blood dripped from your mouth as you stumbled back, held upright by the man's grip on you.

He grabbed your cheeks hard, squeezing the blood from your mouth, snarling. "Pretty thing, I'm going to put you in your fucking place--"

You cried out a sharp 'no!', kicking him between the legs and pushing him away.

You both fought tooth and nail for a while, you managing to run a short distance before being dragged back and hit even harder in the face.

This time you gasped helplessly for breath, blood spurting out of your nose and down your mouth.

What scared you the most was a hand gripping your thighs and trying to spread them.

"I'm going to fuck you before I kill you, bitch. And it's going to hurt." The man seethed the ugly promise, tearing your dress up high and grabbing your tights to rip a hole in then.

You cried out, kicking him in the jaw but to no avail. Without any weapons you had no chance in winning against his strength.

You saw an opening as he stumbled back at your kick and bolted it as fast as you could towards the trees. You knew this land well, so you knew where to hide.

Frightful and shaking, tears littered your cheeks as you heard the sound of the man getting to his feet to chase after you.

You gasped painfully, unable to breathe, and all but screamed bloody murder as you ran directly into a chest.

An arm wrapped around your struggling body, a hand smothering your scream as you fought and cried out desperately against another assailant. This one was like a brick wall, unmovable to your attempted attacks, even if he himself wasn't attacking you.

Two hands gripped your shoulders and shook you hard, causing you to look up at his face in terror only to pause, wide eyed.

That familiar, monochromatic clown tilted his head down at you in a thoughtful frown, mild confusion pooling in his irises as he studied you from head to toe, moving a gloved finger to wipe at the blood trickling down your chin.

"Art!", you cried, chest heaving up and down, "Theres--These men--attacked me and--and tried to-to--"

You could barely get your words out, watching as Art cocked a surprised eyebrow up and attempted to decipher your rambled sentences.

He didn't really need to. Upon further inspection, he could see the bruising of your face, the very blatant tear of your tights which showed a lot of skin, and how your dress had been ripped.

He knew something was off when he heard the sound of gunshots. He knew you had guns, but for you to use one meant something was amiss. Something compelled him to come and look, dropping the dead body he had been mutilating in the woods, eager and..somewhat impatient, to get to you.

That was a foreign feeling, and now having actually studied your shaking hands that gripped his costume and the amount of blood that covered your face as tears dribbled down fatly, staring up at him in utter relief, he was unused to such an expression, and truly didnt mind it coming from you.

Gazing outwards at the forest, an intense ire began to build in him. You weren't going to die today, he doubted you ever would because you were his, and only his.

Having finally made a decision, Art grinned cruelly, fingers eager and twitching excitedly to meet this so called attacker.

Letting his arms drop from you, he took a step forward to make his way to the house, stopping as you gripped his arm in fear.

"W-wait, please don't leave me--"

Art held up a hand calmly, shushing you, and went through his black bag, retrieving a hammer. He patted your head, as though telling you not to worry, and made his way towards your home. He walked excitedly with a bounce in his step.

You knew what that meant.

You were so happy to see him, as fucked up as that is, but he clearly made the decision to protect you. You felt relief and fondness, sitting against a tree with your knees up to your chest, waiting.

You wanted them dead, truth be told, but may God have mercy on them for what Art is about to do..

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You remembered hearing gut wrenching screams and splatters of vomit as various tools were used to maim the trespassers.

You remember your body moving on auto pilot as you entered your home, Art briefly stopping his flaying of the man who threatened assault on you, to lift a hand and wave at you, fingers dancing playfully.

You waved back slowly, trudging up the steps and into your home where your living room was a mess from the commotion. There were patches of your blood on the floor, a lamp upturned and glass shattered messily.

Body and mind exhausted, you laid down on the settee and fell asleep dreamlessly. You didn't even awaken to the sounds of a chainsaw and guttural screaming.

You don't know how long you slept for. You were in and out of consciousness for a while, waking up to your ribs aching from the attack, or your lips burning from being split, the blood drying on them and irritating them.

You were still a mess, hair dishevelled and face bruised, dried blood flaking off your face and your clothes in almost tatters.

Your face was still puffy from crying, eyes opening slowly and slightly bloodshot. Moaning weakly, you stretched your legs out and hissed as your ripped tights dug into a deep cut in your thigh.

The TV was on. You barely registered the comforting hum of some early Christmas film that was on, volume low and tranquil.

Slowly standing, you made your way to the kitchen. Your chest fluttered at the sight of Art, sitting calmly at the table with a plate of sweet treats you had in the cupboards, including biscuits and cake, and what looked to be a cup of hot chocolate.

He was eating them very civilised, too. You were proud of that. It wasn't like he needed to eat, at least you thought, but he really did enjoy sweet food. Same as you.

Clad in a surprisingly clean clown suit, he waved at you, his hands stained red. He must have cleaned himself up for the most part, and..looking around, you sighted a mop bucket, so he must've really made a mess and cleaned up after him.

That was oddly..sweet. It made you smile.

"I must have been asleep a while." You gathered aloud, taking a seat at the table across from him.

The clown shrugged, held up a hand with 4 fingers. So you slept for about 4 hours then.

You rubbed your eyes, exhausted. The clown tilted his head at you slowly, frowning softly in thought with a finger to his chin.

"Yeah, I'm a mess. I can't believe those guys." You huffed, glaring down at yourself. Your anger spiked at the sight of your attire.

"He ruined my favourite fucking dress!" You exclaimed, arms folding frustratedly. You were a mixture of huffs and mutters as the clown cocked a calm eyebrow - how had you both switched places? - and listened to you curse and swear which he had never heard before.

It made him chuckle silently, head in hand as he watched you. Feeling eyes on you, your frown softened. "Im sorry, I'm not myself. I thought I had it all under control when I saw the two of them."

Your gaze dropped lower to the floor, reminiscing. "I didn't really notice the third. I have no idea how he got in." You almost whispered defeatedly, eyes misted and glassy as you remembered the way that man treated you and touched you.

You suddenly felt incredibly dirty. What if you hadn't managed to outrun him? He was about to violate you. And what if Art had never showed up? He'd--

Your thoughts draw to a pause as Art taps your hand gently, points to himself and does a stabbing motion, then points outside.

It made your lips quirk. "Their dead?"

Art nodded excitedly, grinning wide as his fingers tickle your hand. You begin to giggle, and grip onto his hand. "I'm glad you turned up. I mean, I managed to fight him off barely, but imagine if..."

You froze, eyes staring at your intertwined hands, and shook your head. "Assholes."

Art suddenly lit up like a lightbulb, face making one of surprise as he held a hand up to wait. Comically running out of the room, you awaited his return as he came near you with one of the robbers mask. Something was wrapped inside it.

Art got down on one knee and presented it to you with arms outstretched, wiggling his eyebrows, and you giggled again. Gripping the fabric, you found it soaked with blood. Opening it, a human heart stared back at you. It was relatively fresh.

You blinked slowly, not at all feeling usual feelings of repulsion and fear. Instead you felt..warm. The symbolic meaning of presenting you with the heart of your attacker wasn't lost on you, and as fucked up as it was, you blushed faintly.

"I.."

You smiled incredibly gently, Art thought. It made him happy to see your face finally light up after those filthy, rotten humans dared to touch what was his.

"I'm incredibly grateful for that. Thank you, Art. Who'd have thought you'd make such a great protector?" You winked playfully, laughing when he returned it dramatically with a nod.

"Oh! I almost forgot!", you rose and grabbed a nearby dish. "I made brownies!", you pouted at the fact that they weren't warm and delicious anymore, and Art thought that if you kept acting so cute he'd have to hurt you. In a good way, of course. He was still confused about that.

Art revealed one of his rare smiles, lacking it's usual slyness or sinisterness, and grabbed a brownie delightedly. It made you beam.

There you both sat, his hands bloodied and your face bruised with a heart sitting between you both as you shared the brownies.

There was an undeniable connection, and as you cuddled up in your blankets after a fresh shower, staring up at the ceiling, you thought about that.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The dynamic had shifted. Art could still be sly and mean in his ways of scaring you, but he certainly toned it down. He seemed to want to hear your laughter more, launching tickle attacks on you until you were a squealing mess on the settee, wriggling and fighting against his grip as tears of laughter wet your cheeks.

"Please!", you squealed, "no more! You win!", you'd shriek, body contorting until his fingers finally stopped and he stared down at you smugly.

For a moment, you both stared in silence, you catching your breath and him observant as ever.

With a burst of excited energy, you fled his slack grip and bolted to the other side of the living room, jumping in your spot. "Just kidding! I got away so I won!" You giggled ecstatically, watching as the clown slowly stood to his tall height.

Your laughter died down, nervous excitement replacing it. He held a glint in his eye that could only mean trouble. Art tilted his head dramatically, finger to his lips as though saying 'Oh, you've won, have you?'

You shook your head in panic, hands held up in surrender. "i-i didn't mean that! Honestly!"

Art mimiced your panicked face, holding his hands up in surrender as he jumped towards you. You jolted, stumbling back as an uncertain laughter bubbled up.

"Believe me, I know I could never outrun you..", you glanced towards the kitchen door, plotting.

Art lifted a hand to his chin, silently humming in thought, before holding up a hand with fingers spread wide.

He dropped a finger, holding up 4.

Then 3.

2.

"Wait--wait why are you counting?!"

1.

Art froze, grin held wide as he remained unmoving. You shifted nervously, about to say something before Art suddenly came to life again and darted towards you.

You screamed and bolted away, running instead to the stairs that were closer and hoping to make it to your room.

You did, and as you ran through it and turned to slam the door shut, Art was already in the doorway and wrapping his arms around you as you shrieked and cried out apologies for challenging him.

Art showed you no mercy, throwing you to the bed and holding you down with ease as he assaulted your ribs again with his fingers.

He laughed silently at your torture, gleeful and delighted at your non stop screaming and laughing.

"Art! Wait! I can't take it anymore!--" you wheezed, grabbing his wrists and pushing as hard as you could.

He didn't even budge. He was like a stone wall. Art paused, cocking his head down at your futile efforts and back up to your terrified face.

You froze, realising that you just challenged him again.

With a flash of black and white, Art jumped atop you, straddling your hips as he held your wrists down with one of his hands, watching you squirm and whine.

He chuckled evilly, silently, eyebrows low and grin spreading wide.

But there was that same look from the other day again. Peering down at you, he watched you analyse the position you were in, eyes fluttering up to his face in shock as a flush tainted your pretty skin.

Art knew that look. He was very meticulous when it came to the human body and the emotions it can feel.

You were panting, chest fluttering and warmth radiating off of you as Art smirked down at you knowingly. He raised his eyebrows, hand to mouth in shock as though to say 'Are those dirty thoughts in your head?'

Although silent, it was as though you knew that he knew what you were thinking. You felt dazed, so red and undeniably enjoying the vision of him above you, holding you down.

There was no denying the guilty thoughts you had had of him in the privacy of your bedroom at night, faceless men turning into monochromatic, super natural clowns each time you reached your peak.

You felt vile at first. But after his protection against those men the other day, your feelings definitely shifted, and since then you couldn't stop your thoughts from trailing to him..

The sexual ones, too. The private ones where you thought about pale, strong hands holding your head down against the bed as you were taken from behind.

The ones where your head was wrenched back by an iron fist in your hair, too euphoric to the point that you could only babble words.

You knew he could take you there. And his incessant flirting in real life, where he'd wiggle his eyebrows at you if you passed in a towel or if you bent over, or where he'd stand teasingly in your way of a doorway, forcing you to squeeze past him as he smirks and winks. Those things made the thoughts all the stronger, and at times you wondered if he knew what you were going to do once you got back to your room.

Sometimes, the way he smirked and waved at you with a wiggle of his fingertips just after you finished getting yourself off made you wonder. He must've known, this freakish demonic man.

The memories brought heat spreading down to your neck, your tongue tied as you struggled to break the tension. You struggled to get a word out, eyes fluttering in nervous anticipation. It was hard not to romanticise this charming clown.

"I--"

The clown leaned down close, void eyes staring into yours that were so full of emotion, raw and naked. His strong hand that was capable of such violence began tracing your jawline delicately, as though you were porcelain.

You inhaled shakily, feeling the digits drop to your neck, pressing against your fluttering, rapid pulse.

From anyone else, that would feel uncomfortable. But Art doing that felt so suffocatingly intimate you didn't know how to react, eyebrows drawn together in mild confusion at your feelings.

The way Art smirked made you realise he knew exactly what he was doing. Lifting his hand to his mouth, he gripped the glove with his teeth and tugged it off, freeing his pale, veiny hand and bringing it to your cheek, thumb tenderly rubbing the area.

You felt like your head was going to burst from how red you were. You think its because the utter shock at having Art act in a way that wholly juxtaposes him and touch you delicately made you feel so exquisitely special that you didn't know how to register it.

How can a mere innocent touch melt you so much?

His fingers traced the lines and curves of your face in fascination. There was no doubt a morbidity to his thoughts, but there was also mild, genuine adoration in his lifeless eyes.

Your pulse quickened, butterflies dancing in your belly at the thumb that now traced your plush lips. Body reacting faster than your thoughts, your tongue wet the tip of his thumb.

A glint began to shine in his eyes, ferocious and wanting. He tilted his head down at you, unsmiling but not in a scary way; he appeared quite tranquil, and something else.

His thumb dipped into your mouth slightly, experimentally, and he was pleased at the way you wholly accepted him in, swirling your tongue intimately around his digit.

Your eyelids drooped, overcome by this display of raw connection, your lips glistening as he slowly retrieved his thumb, giving your lips one final stroke before gliding his hand down your neck again, tickling the skin with gentle fingertips before moving down to your collarbone.

You held your breath, biting your lip as the usually menacing clown above you glided further down, and down, until his hand brushed the outline of your breast, barely skimming across your nipple.

You inhaled sharply, how were you this sensitive? You could feel heat pooling between your thighs already.

Art tilted his head, examining the large, soft globes that hid beneath your clothes. Eyes flickering up at you, Art smirked before gripping the front of your shirt and tearing it open with ease.

You gasped aloud, eyes wide and mouth agape as your breasts bounced free, nipples hard and begging for attention.

You flushed so deeply red that your face began resonating heat. You were so embarrassed at being half naked in front of him, and you didn't know why. Maybe it was because of the teasing way he winked appreciatively, removing the other glove from his hand swiftly before grazing your breasts barely, hands gripping handfuls of them boldly soon after.

His thumbs skimmed over your pebbled nipples, watching your head loll back against the pillow as you inhaled and exhaled shakily. Bolts of arousal were shooting to the junction of your thighs every time his calloused thumbs teased your perk nipples.

Art was entranced by your visible display of arousal, so sensitive and so wanting; he had never felt this way about a person. Even he knew he was being unnaturally kind, inducing you with pleasure that was sure to have you tingling.

Art never did things unless he wanted to. He didn't want to hurt you. No, his dominance and roughness that he could just tell you craved would come later. For now, he wanted you wet and yearning.

He was proficient in knowing how to hurt the human body, which means he's acutely aware of how to pleasure it; that simply came hand in hand.

And, glancing down at you, having been brought from his thoughts by your breathy exhale, he could tell that what he was doing was incredibly pleasurable. You squirmed, legs widening and relaxing unconsciously below him, your pretty green skirt riding up your thighs.

"Art-", you whined in a whisper, nerve endings alight and tingling, begging to be touched.

Art flashed a smile, head tilting once more as though wondering what to do with you. He could leave you here, undeniably wet and sticky and yearning, begging sweetly, or he could indulge, nudge your pretty thighs apart and fuck you like you've wanted him to for a while now.

You didn't hide it well, especially after touching yourself mere minutes before seeing him, pupils blown wide, hair tousled and sweaty, legs lightly shaking. You should probably stop leaving your wet, soft underwear on your bedroom floor too. That's a big give away, if you didn't already know.

The sarcastic thought had him grinning, and after moving his head back and forth in thought, weighing out his options, he flicked his thumbs over your nipples a few more times, watching you react immediately and arch your back towards his hands.

"Ah-", you gasped, shuddering, gnawing at your lip with hooded eyes.

Art rolled his eyes up at the ceiling, then shrugged lightly to himself. He wasn't necessarily a sexual creature, but he was still in the body of a man. Tweaking your nipples teasingly, Art nodded.

He wanted to fuck you, hard.

But he wanted to tease you first.

Arts eyes dropped to the way your legs had spread for him, dark underwear on display from the way your skirt had ridden up your thighs.

Trailing a hand down your waist and to your hips, Art studied you as his hand moved lower, teasing your inner thighs, pinching the fatty flesh there before pressing two fingers against your apex.

You reacted immediately, shuddering a breath in and out as your legs spread fully, bent at the knee.

Pale fingers traced your soft, wet lips through your underwear, tickling from where your hole would be and up towards your pulsating clit, circling the bud with light pressure.

You moaned quietly, legs squirming slightly as you yearned for a direct touch, his teasing becoming relentless. Your hands balled into fists as white hot tingling sensations barreled through your stomach and your clit, demanding to be touched but to no avail.

Art knew this, and pressed two fingers firmly against your clit, circling.

"Oh--yes--", you whined, looking fucked out with your head lolled back when Art had barely done anything. He wondered how you'd react to the plans he had for you later if this is how you were after a few strokes.

His teasing continued, trailing down to your hole and dipping in slightly, soaking your underwear, before running his finger to the edge of the useless garment and hooking two fingers in, tearing it apart.

This time, Art used both hands to grip your thighs, spreading them far. He studied your pink, exposed slit with incredible interest. The mess of wetness was excessive, coating the length of your sex, your inner thighs and gliding down to your tight rim.

You squirmed in his hands at his staring, to which he tightened his grip, making you shudder.

"Art..", you whined

His eyes snapped up to yours expectantly.

"Please, I--", you gasped at his fingers tracing maddeningly around your labia, refusing to touch you directly. "Please touch me. Please, I--..I need it so bad.", tears filled your eyes with frustration, "so fucking bad, you have no idea.."

But Art did know. He's always known, and just to prove his point he searched for something in his pockets, retreaving it and dangling it in front of your face.

You froze. It was your used underwear from yesterday, when you masturbated before a shower, throwing the garment to the floor. You thought you had imagined throwing it to the floor, because upon coming back to the bedroom, it was gone.

You looked mortified, hands covering your face. "You've known all along?" You whined, unable to face his grin. You felt humiliation creep up your chest at being caught red handed, biting your lip hard to ground yourself. Pathetic tears threatened to fall in frustration.

You gasped as two hands gripped your own and pinned them above your head, using one to keep them there while the other hand wagged it's finger back and fore, Art shaking his head and tutting silently.

You were forced to face his smug, teasing stare, your own face pouting. Art lifted two fingers, wiggled them, before bringing them to your lips.

You accepted, swirling your tongue around them, before they were retrieved swiftly. Wiggling them again, Art made a show of demonstrating just what he was about to do to you to bring that smile back.

Winking in a way that had you melting in a puddle of embarrassment, Art pressed two fingers to your wet entrance, grinning before gliding them into your wanton hole.

Your reaction was instantaneous, a keening 'oh!' torn from your throat, back arching as you squirmed beneath the hand that pinned you down.

Art began to thrust his fingers deeply, pulling out to the tip before delving back in, watching you writhe and gasp. You were desperate for more, hips lifting higher.

Art pulled his fingers out of you, showing the wet lubrication that coated them, scissoring them apart to watch the way it attached his fingers with stringy gooeyness.

You released a frustrated whine this time, fighting beneath his one hand. "No, no don't pull them out, please--" you pouted pathetically, desperately.

Art wanted to torment you more, but his desire to see you screaming in pleasure outweighed that at the moment. He wanted to break you.

Shrugging innocently as though to say 'well, you asked for it', Arts two fingers sunk into you to the knuckle, pumping in and out firmly and roughly, curling rhythmically against that spongy area he knew would have you seeing stars.

"Oh--Oh!", you cried, hips tilted up into his assault, the lewd sound of your wet hole permeating the air as his fingers went in and out, in and out, restlessly and roughly, giving you exactly what you wanted.

Art smirked darkly, increasing the pace rapidly, so fast he had to hold your kicking legs down as he brought you too much pleasure, too much torment in the sweetest way he could give.

You cried out loudly now, unable to hold your voice back, body convulsing lightly as your peak approached.

"A-Art, Oh, Ohh--" you moaned, panting and thrashing back and fore as his fingers forced an orgasm out of you, intense and sudden, squirting down his wrist and soaking your bed.

You gasped for air, legs falling slack as your mind felt like it was floating.

You didn't have any time to think as Art gripped your hips tightly, flipping you over effortlessly and pulling your ass into the air. He smoothed the skin gently, before giving it a slap, watching you jolt.

You were soaked, legs quivering as you braced yourself. Your knees knocked together, staring back at him desperately.

You had dreamed of this for some time, you thought, gnawing at your lip anxiously. Judging by the sudden, bare feel of his hard cock against your folds, you knew you were in for a ride; he felt huge.

He was definitely thick, but even more than that is that he was incredible in length. He wasn't an ordinary man, so you shouldn't be surprised, but a tingle of fear and excitement gnaws through you all the same.

"W-will that fit?", you whispered in awe, salivating, and Art merely shrugged, wiggling his eyebrows as though to say 'ill make it fit', before putting a hand on your head and pushing your face into the bed.

You felt arousal course through you at his actions, being pinned down and bared for him to use. You pushed your round ass into him as much as you could, desperate and whorish, feeling his body judder with silent laughter.

He teased you at first, pushing the tip in, then retrieving, only to push just a little bit more in, and then retrieving again.

You huffed, unable to hide your frustration, but choked on it as Art slowly pulled out, then slid all the way in to the hilt.

You cried out loudly, hands balled into fists in your blanket, head pushed into the bed hard as Art gave you no time to adjust and began fucking you.

Your insides were on fire, pain and pleasure at his large intrusion mixing together, pulling moan after moan out of you. You could barely breathe, struggling to say his name as Art now gripped both of your hips and bred you.

A hand was lifted from you before coming down hard on your jiggling flesh, one stroke after another, getting harder and harder until you were writhing and whining.

He didn't stop, testing just how far he could go, switching to the other cheek when he felt your screams were getting particularly painful.

The stinging was unbearable, but it made you so wet, so pliant for him to absolutely manhandle you into the bed, gripping a fistful of your hair before he ravaged you just the way you wanted.

You were already a babbling mess, cock drunk when Art had hardly done anything. He rolled his eyes at you, though he was definitely amused at the unintelligible song you sang for him, something about his large cock and something else about breeding you.

You filthy girl.

Arts hand tangled rougher into your locks, before he gripped it hard and wrenched your head back, spine arching.

Your whines increased, becoming incredibly high pitch and feminine for him as he forced your head back.

Your neck was burning, but you loved this feeling, having a firm hand tug your hair back and an incredible, curved dick hit your insides just right.

The way he fucked you hard made you want to pretend to be bratty in the future, just so he could put you in your place. In fact, maybe one day when you're feeling particularly moody or low, you could get him to fuck it out of you, sweeten you up. The thought of being forced to take him deep as he fucked the brattiness out of you had you sopping, thighs drenched and shaking and barely standing.

"Ahh--Art, it feels so-", you moaned brokenly, thighs collapsing as the demon above you took to forcing your face back into the bed, other hand forcing your wrists above your head.

Having your thighs together now made his cock feel utterly massive, forcing the air out of you as he glided in between your plush cheeks, invading your sodden hole.

It made you feral.

"Oh my God oh my God--", you cried weakly, sobbing. Tears rolled down your cheeks in over stimulation, and Art leaned his body over yours, pushing you into the bed as he used one hand to smother your mouth, hooking his fingers into it.

You babbled, sucking his fingers desperately as you drooled down his wrist and your chin.

His fingers stuffed your mouth, thick length now ramming into you harder. You could barely hold your head up anymore, resting weakly against his wrist as you cried and whimpered, mascara blackening your eyes and cheeks messily.

Suddenly your hips were gripped and your body was forced onto it's back. You whined at the loss of him inside you, legs wrapping obscenely around his trim waist, needing more.

"Fuck me, please fuck me-", you breathed, head lolling back as fat tears burned your eyes, soaking your cheeks. Your lips were formed into a frustrated pout, fists clenched as though you were about to have a tantrum unless his dick resumed fucking you.

Art grinned truly maniacally down at you, gleeful and amused at your cries. It was a stunning sight, seeing your usual reserved self acting like such a slut.

He pouted right back at you, holding two fists up to his eyes and rotating them back and forth to impersonate dramatic crying. He was mocking you cruelly, laughing at your fucked out expression.

Forcing his fingers into your mouth again, Art pushed them down your throat, watching your eyes widen as you gagged and choked. Saliva pooled in your mouth excessively, and he scooped it out with both fingers to smear it messily over your cheeks and down your chin, laughing silently and pointing.

"No, please stop mocking me..", you whimpered quietly, lips wobbling as you pleaded at him with your big eyes. Your hips bucked desperately, thighs sticky and warm.

Art dropped his grin and rolled his eyes at your antics. You really wanted him to fuck you? Sure.

A malicious glint lit up his eyes, tenderly wiping the black tears staining your cheeks from your makeup.

Before you could blink, a strong hand was wrapped around your throat roughly, and a moment later his hot cock was pummeling into you mercilessly.

You couldn't even scream, sounds trapped in your throat and escaping in high pitched exhales, your head falling back against the bed as he strangled you.

It terrified you, but as your breathing became less and your head became clouded, a sudden, indescribable pleasure ripped through you so powerfully your eyes rolled back into your head, drool openly gliding down your cheek.

Your body felt weak and unresponsive, unable to even grip at his wrists for some reprieve, but the pleasure..

The fucking pleasure was mind numbing.

Your eyes drooped, face turning almost purple as he fucked you so deep you felt sick.

You couldn't gasp anymore, weak breaths barely getting past the brutal grip on your throat.

You were delirious now, feeling in a dream like state, ecstasy exploding behind your eyes and lighting your nerves on such a burning fire. You felt like your soul was ripped out of your mortal shell, experiencing the biggest high of your entire life.

Art cackled madly, silently, a sick adoration twisting in his eyes at the way your consciousness began to slip. He held your neck dangerously tight, tighter than he planned but judging by the way your hot, wet pussy gripped at him, he knew you loved it.

The sounds of your joining bodies was obscene and lewd, squelching and loud as his cock forced your lubrication out of your body.

Art gritted his teeth at the morbidly stunning view of you drooling excessive saliva, tears soaking his hands and mascara clumping your eyelashes, your eyes now bloodshot and heavy.

They rolled back, and soon you become quiet.

Bringing you to the very edge, Art removed your hand and allowed air to enter your lungs.

You gasped painfully, choking and sobbing as you were given no time to inhale greedily, instead getting ravaged inhumanly fast.

You couldn't lift your head, eyes blinking dazedly up at Art, who lifted a hand to wave at you mockingly.

You tried to speak but couldn't, mouth held open in permanent ecstasy. Your hips snapped upright as fingers roughly rubbed at your engorged clitoris, abusing the greedy nub.

A cry tore from your raw throat, head thrashing side to side and legs shaking violently as your orgasm rendered you incoherent.

You screamed out, squirting almost violently down your quivering thighs and over Arts rigid, brutal cock.

You sobbed, face screwing up pathetically as genuine, uncontrollable cries wracked your form. You could barely intake breath, body and nerves unable to handle the level of soul wrenching pleasure and borderline pain that was inflicted upon you.

Art gripped your shaking thighs and lifted them above his shoulders, face devoid of his usual smirk and instead scowling down at you with smouldering eyes. He fucked you harder, faster, animalistic before his hips stuttered once, twice, and a hot, thick load of cum filled your gaping pussy.

The amount was unnatural, not human, but your body lapped it up all the same as your insides convulsed and quivered. You moaned weakly, keening in a higher pitch as your lips wobbled and your eyes remained misted and delirious.

You didn't even feel Art pull out, stuck in a dream like state as aftershocks lit your body up. Your legs were dropped from his shoulders, falling unceremoniously to the bed, wide open.

You babbled incoherently, arm covering your face. Art stared down at you serenely, gazing from your dick dumb espression to the mess of cum coating your thighs, globs of it dripping down to your asshole. Your hole gaped and twitched, greedily gulping up all that it could take, thoroughly fucked and bred.

You felt two fingers scooping up the mess and pushing it filthily back into your pussy.

You whined, dropping the arm from your eyes to finally look at the demonic clown that had surely taken grip of your soul and tore it out.

Art smirked down at you, winking playfully. He revelled in the mess he made of you.

"Art that was--I--Mmm--", you moaned, responding to the gentle caress of your clit with his fingers. You were so wet and full of cum, biting your lip.

You didn't move as you felt his form pull away from you. You were so out of it you felt drunk.

You didn't feel him tucking you into bed, only remembered being beneath the blankets as he tilted his head down at you contemplatively.

He felt something foreign, that was for certain. He felt a possessive adoration over you, wanting to break you into a crying, sobbing mess, strangle you until you stood on the precipice of death like earlier, but also..

Watching you now, eyes drooping as you gripped his hand softly, tiredly, he made the final decision that he wanted more tender moments like this.

You were the rare occasion, the only occasion.

He was going to consume you whole.

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 — 𝐂.𝐒.

SUMMARY ʚɞ Your first time having sex with Chris.

CW ʚɞ Smut, first time, p n v, size kink, bulge kink, and more

PAIRING ʚɞ Bubble .ᐟ Reader x Chris Sturniolo

A/N: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. This can be read as a standalone apart from the au! Do wtv you want, this is hella horny lmao

With love and big tits, Rose ➜ au masterlist

God, you’re nervous. Every pulse of your thumping heart is echoing throughout your entire body. You swallow thickly, trying to focus on the sensation of Chris’ lips trailing up and down your stomach, but you can’t seem to stop thinking about that entering your body. 

He’s big. Chris is aware of it, so are you. You two haven’t had sex before, but you’ve ventured into other intimate acts to know enough. The first time you gave him a blow job, your mouth was sore. Either corner of your mouth ached from being stretched and although his pleasure made it worth it at the time, it didn’t stop you from wondering what this would be like—his dick inside of you, buried in your cunt. 

“You—you good, Bubs?” Chris asks, his voice laced with concern. It makes your lips curl into a sympathetic smile at his nervous tone. You’re anxious, but he’s crawling with worry. 

Chris has never hurt you, not purposefully at least. The one exception was when you were play-fighting. He accidentally bonked his head with yours, creating a gnarly bruise on the side of your temple. Every time someone asked you about it, he fought the urge to cry. He felt awful. 

This is different. He knows it doesn’t have to hurt or be uncomfortable, but there’s a chance it will—which is why he’s been smothering you in kisses, teasing you relentlessly, and fingering you for the sole purpose of stretching you out.

You feel like you’re on fire, every inch of your skin pulsing with an echoing need as you feel him lather another lick of spit along your folds. “Chrissss,” you whine, tugging on his hair. 

He gets the memo. Chris laughs slightly, giving your clit a swift kiss before hovering over you missionary-style while you lay in his bed. You look so needy. The look in your eyes almost distracts him from the lingering concerns of hurting you accidentally. 

Almost.

“Bubs, are you sure?” he asks, looking down at his dick, the condom around his length making reality set further in. 

“I’m sure, Chris. I want this, I—I want you.” 

Your words are reassuring. Chris nods, pressing a soft kiss along the corner of your mouth, dragging his hand downward to position his tip at your entrance. 

Fuck. 

He can feel the heat of your cunt radiating onto him. It’s enough to make him groan, the condom feeling too tight as he nibbles along your jawline. 

“I—I don’t wanna hurt you, Bubs. Just tell me if you need me to stop—”

“Please.” 

The desperate word leaving your lips makes him sink into the moment. He’s been teasing you for over an hour. It’s probably cruel, but he felt like he needed to. This is a special thing, one that he wants to be remembered with only pleasure and fond feelings. 

“Okay, just…relax…” he directs. 

Your chest heaves with a deep breath. Chris finds his chest tightening as he slowly slips himself inside of you, your walls stretching around his mushroom tip as he pauses his movements. 

“God—is…is it okay? You need a minute?” he asks, looking up to find your face completely contorted with pleasure. The sight alone makes his dick pulse inside of you, the slight movement making your walls clamp around him, eliciting a sharp hiss from his lips. 

“Y–yeah,” you swallow, looking up at him with glazed eyes. 

Chris brings his free hand to caress your cheek, his other supporting his weight as he slowly drives his hips forward, the sensation of your warm pussy sucking him in delightfully. 

He’s jerked off thinking about this so many times, but fuck—he never imagained you’d feel this good wrapped around his dick. This is the type of pleasure that was unbearably good, the kind that made his balls feel tight, like he could cum at any second. 

As Chris halts to a stop, you look at him with pleading eyes. It doesn’t hurt, it feels good. All the teasing and torture had left you craving to be truly satisfied.

You want to be full of him, you want to feel him deep inside of you. 

“Chris, please, I’m fine—”

“I—give me a minute, I—” his teeth are biting into his bottom lip, his neck vein apparent as he struggles to take deep breaths. “-need a minute or else I—or—’m gonna cum already, just—just give me a minute.” 

His words do not help the situation. The tone of his voice and the dirty, desperate remark leaves you instinctively clenching around his length. Chris lets out a near silent groan. He starts to pull himself out, pushing back in as your warmth flushes against almost every inch of his dick. 

“Holy—shit. Feels so good, so fuckin’ good,” he rasps, his chest heaving as your legs wander behind his back, your ankles locking together as you pull his pelvis flush against yours. 

Oh god. 

You feel brutally full. The salvia piling in your mouth is hard to swallow, but as you attempt to take a gulp, you swear you feel his dick in your throat. 

“Fuccckkkk,” he husks, grinding himself into you as you shriek from the utter shock of taking him all. “-good girl, takin’ me—god, you’re takin’ it like a champ, hm?” he tuts, panting into the crook of your neck as he starts to rut in and out of you with an agonizingly slow pace. 

Your nails claw into his biceps. Chris let his sweaty forehead rest against you, his eyes peeking open as he looks down to see an evident bulge in your stomach from each of his movements. 

Just like that, he rolls his hips to a stop again. 

You cry out, your nails piercing into his skin. Being edged and teased for this long makes everything feel more overwhelming than it already is—and that’s saying a lot. 

“Chris, sto–stop teasing, pl—”

“-’m sorry, sorry,” he coos, pressing a kiss along your pulse point as he starts to thrust himself in and out of your tight hole cautiously. His brain is fighting against his body, the need to cum growing dangerously high quickly. 

“G–god, Chris, s-so good,” you moan. 

The sounds rolling from your lips are sinful, but paired with the lewd noise of skin clapping, Chris finds himself tasting his own blood, trying to hold himself back as your walls start to clutch tighter and tighter around him. 

He needs you to cum.

He needs you to finish before he loses all restraint on his own body.

Dragging his hand down, Chris circles your puffy clit. He swipes his fingers, massaging the swollen bud and moaning evidently more as your hips rock upward, your pussy sucking him in with each thrust.

“Need you to cum, baby—please, c’mon—you got it,” he praises, trying to focus on the way you react, keeping his nimble hands steady with consistent movements as your thighs start to shake and quiver. 

And then he drives himself even deeper into you, slightly adjusting his hips. 

“Oh, fuck!” you screech, crying out as he continues to focus on the precision of his thrusts, driving against the perfect spot inside of you while keeping his thumb swiveling against your clit. 

You’re gone. The knots in the bottom of your stomach are starting to collapse into your chest, the pure euphoria drifting across your skin in a hot blissful wave as your walls convulse around him. 

“Bubs, I—’m gonna cum, where-”

“More, wan—want you to fill me up more.” you announce, your voice wavering as you tip towards the edge of overstimulation. 

Chris gives a couple more sloppy thrusts, finishing deep inside of you, wishing the condom around his throbbing dick would vanish. 

He wants to see his cum spill out of you—he wants to see your cum mixed with his. 

Dirty thoughts consume his desires as he finishes. Chris pants heavily, resting on your chest as both of you feen for air. 

“Can we do it without a condom next time?” you ask, your brain infiltrating with the same thoughts as his own. 

Chris looks up at you with wide eyes. He spares a smile, nodding lazily as you start to comb through his hair. 

“Fuck yeah. You wanna be full, hm?” he questions, grinning harder as you stare down at him with blushing cheeks. “Dirty girl, Bubs—I like it. My dirty girl.”

[7hursday]

tutor!sukuna, who, against his will, is sitting next to you in the empty library with his tongue poked into his cheek as he feels irritation beginning to bubble up inside of him.

it’s not that you’re stupid — no, not at all — but the way your brain processes information is… starkly different from the way his does. you also had a way of attracting bad grades as if they were moths and you were a flame. it was basically inevitable that the teachers had forced him to tutor you.

a heavy sigh leaves his lips as he points at the textbook. “solve this again and tell me exactly what you don’t get.”

you look at him sheepishly, before letting out a nervous laugh. “uhh… I don’t get the entire thing. can we take a break?”

he, of course, rolls his eyes for the nth time that hour. that was until an idea popped into his head, his eyebrows raising slightly in amusement before leaning in to whisper into your ear.

when his hot breath hits your skin, you flinch instinctively, but you can’t help the way your underwear begins to dampen at the way his words come out so roughly and undeniably sexual.

“if you can answer this question correctly, I’ll give you a reward,” his right hand lays flat against your thigh, going up, up, up…

tutor!sukuna who has you sit on his lap, his hard cock pressing against your swollen clit and slick folds as his hand lays flat on your thighs. the library was empty (although, you didn’t seem to mind if it wasn’t), and you were luckily wearing a skirt that was long enough to cover your lewdness.

“mm? you’re doing well. get this right and I’ll put my cock in your wet lil’ pussy.” his dirty words have you rubbing your thighs together, squeezing his already dripping cock in between. this elicits a soft ‘fuck’ from him, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly.

“fuck this. I need to feel you.”

it didn’t take long before he had pushed everything off the table, bending you over and pushing his cock into you in one go. you were internally thankful for how wet both your pussy and his dick was, because the sheer girth of his length was enough to straight up gawk at.

the round, swollen tip of his cock hits that mushy spot that has your toes curling immediately— which doesn’t go unnoticed by sukuna. he leans forward, fingers tangling in your locks as he pulls your head up to look at him.

he pulls out just enough for the tip to barely be inside before slamming back into you, the small tuft of hair on the base just barely tickling your skin as his balls slapped against your already sensitive clit.

his hand reaches forward, placing the textbook in front of you and forcing a pen into your hand. “each question you got wrong is one load of my cum inside you.”

and screw that, because with the way he was driving his cock into your pussy, you were sure you were fucked dumb and completely cockdrunk, the only thing on your mind being him.

tutor!sukuna who can’t help but begin to purposefully teach you a few of the formulas wrong, making sure to fill your cunt up with his cum any chance he gets.

a/n: thinking of making this a full fic. this mere drabble was too long i had to decrease the font size lol. lmk what u think.

[s0dium]

Obsession

Warning: Love drunk men, fingering, titty sucking, nipple play, unprotected sex, love drunk reader

~

Love courses through your veins. He’s all you can think about.

You wonder if it's normal to be this enamored with someone, to be this hopelessly head over heels infatuated and obsessed. You can't even focus on what needs to be done anymore because he's absorbed your entire being; he's in your head when you wake up, a gentle whisper in the back of your mind during conversations, a constant in your dreams, day or night.

But it's a doomed one-sided crush you remind yourself. You're not even sure if he knows you exist and in quieter moments, you wonder if perhaps it’s better this way. Loving from a distance means you never have to face the potential heartbreak of rejection, never have to see that polite smile of someone who doesn’t return your feelings. It's safer, you tell yourself, to admire him from afar, keeping your heart guarded behind the shield of daydreams and what-ifs.

So surely, right now in this moment, you must be dreaming.

It feels too vivid, too intense to be just a figment of your imagination. The warmth of his breath against your cheek, the weight of his bare body pressing gently down on yours, the softness of his lips moving against your own with an insatiable hunger—it all feels astonishingly real.

Because it is.

You don't know how but now you're naked underneath him, letting him touch, grope, suck, kiss, nip, and bite anything his hands and mouth can find. He doesn't let up either, he's exploring your body like a starved man, like he'll never get a chance to touch you ever again and wont pull away until he's had his fill.

You gasp when you feel his fingers between your legs, tracing your inner thigh before gliding between your pussy lips. Instinctively, you jerk back at the feeling; his fingers collecting your arousal and sliding up and down. But before you can speak, he kisses you again, his tongue eagerly intertwining with yours. When he finally pulls away, leaving you breathless, a thin strand of saliva connects your mouths.

"Just let me take care of you okay?" He hums before dipping two fingers into your tight hole. "Just been waiting so long to do this."

You don't even have time to react before he's curling his digits and massaging a sweet spot you could only dream about hitting on your own. His other hand gropes your left breast and with his index and thumb, begins to play with your perky nipples. As if that wasn't enough, his mouth found your other breast and gave it the same attention, licking sucking, and rolling your nipple like it was candy.

Colors dance across your closed eyelids and you wonder if this is heaven, if you've died and reached nirvana because the pleasure is just that good. You dont know if you can handle this, handle the fact that he's sucking and playing with your nipples while finger fucking you. Your toes curl and uncurl from the hot searing euphoria that is absorbing your body and emitting from your core. Your back arches off the bed and your crying his name, moaning it even, something you only dreamed about doing late at night when you craved him.

Suddenly, his mouth releases your nipple with a pop and he ceases all of his ministrations, leaving you breathless and confused.

"Fuck, I-" He's breathless himself, his face flushed and pupils blown. "Need to be inside you, need to feel you." He practically groans, and you thickly gulp at his words. Your brain goes fuzzy and you dizzily watch him pull down his boxers, the length slapping against his abdomen after being released from its confines.

He watches you lay down on the bed, breasts and cunt glistening from juices. You dont know this but he actually thinks he is dreaming. You look like a painting right now and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from spilling just at the sight of you.

"Please," You whine, "Please fuck me."

Who is he to deny you?

Without a word he presses his tip against your entrance and slides into you, grunting at the snug fit of your walls. You let out a loud moan from the feeling of him filling you so so perfectly, so well you mentally curse yourself for thinking a dildo or your fingers could ever do the job.

Then with a moan of his own, he slides out of you, nearly leaving you empty, before rocking himself back into you. Oh, how he wanted to fuck you slow and nice, like you deserved, but as the seconds passed, his resolve seep away until he just couldn't possibly hold back anymore.

His thrusts become faster, quicker, slamming in and out of you with such vigor and ease due to your combined juices coating and dripping from both his length and your hole. The friction is delicious, and his tip seems to hit your g-spot perfectly with each thrust. He even grabs the underside of your thigh and pushes them against you, effectively folding you and half and allowing him to go even deeper inside you.

You could feel your rational slipping away as he groaned about how fucking good you felt, about how good you where taking him, how he had been dreaming about this. You want to say something too, say something about how you feel the same way, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth right now is wanton moans of his name.

The pleasure was becoming too much, it had been slowly building and building and you know your about to break any second, burst with such euphoria you don't know if you will ever come back from the high. Before you do though, your brain manages to work again for half a millisecond to express the exact words you are feeling.

"Love you! M'love you so much!" You gasped before letting yourself succumb to the mind-numbing orgasm that was waiting for you. Your whole body shook and quaked from the pleasure and your mind went white. You thought you might cry, from happiness or pleasure you did not know. But you didn't. You simply went limp while you let him use your body like a sex doll.

You are barely clinging onto consciousness when you feel his hips stutter against you and he scoops you up, holding you close while he cums inside you.

"Love you too, love you too." He groans against your ear.

Any character you want ;)

[lqveharrington]

Masquerade Ball | D.M.

summary: The Malfoys hold a masquerade ball in hopes of finding Draco a wife.

pairing: prince!draco malfoy x lady!potter!reader

includes: use of Y/N, mutual pinning, both oblivious, really just fluff with a tiny bit of angst

a/n: it’s like a mix of benedict’s story but not

As a child, Draco never understood how important he was to England’s society. He was always confined within the palace walls—forced to attend endless galas and balls hosted by his parents until his feet ached. Perhaps he could have escaped those obligations when he was younger, but now, he was trapped in a cycle of socializing with eligible maidens in hopes of finding a wife.

He had tried running away once at the age of seven but ran back to his mother the moment he encountered a beggar at the palace gates. It was then he realized how sheltered he truly was, unaware of the hardships beyond the gilded walls.

When Draco once questioned his status withing the kingdom, Lucius merely replied, "You will rule when you turn two and twenty." As the sole heir with no sibling, the weight of the kingdom rested squarely on Draco's shoulders.

Yet, as the years ticked closer to his inevitable coronation, he made no progress in finding a bride. Lucius' patience began to wane, culminating in the grand decision to host a masquerade ball to enhance his son's chances of courting a suitable queen.

And of course, Draco had words to say about the situation.

He adjusted his dark suit and spun the silver ring on his finger, meeting his mother's eyes through the standing mirror. "Mother—"

"Do not fuss, Draco," Narcissa chided gently, wiping invisible dust off her son's perfectly pressed suit. "Your father has made up his mind. You are to take the throne in two years. This must be done."

"And if I find no one?" He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, tilting his head at the piece of hair sticking out. It wouldn’t lay flat if he tried gelling it down.

"Then we will try again next month," She said softly, squeezing his arm. She looked between his eyes and sighed, "Please, try, my love."

"They don't care for me, mother," Draco muttered and turned to face her, rolling his shoulders back—already dreading dancing with women who want the fame and fortune. "They care about being a queen."

"Which is why it is a masquerade ball," Narcissa explained and grabbed the mask that resembled a peacock. "You will blend with the crowd, your identity hidden." She slipped the mask over his head and patted his cheek. "Get to know them without the burden of your title."

"And you believe this will work?"

"I do!" She smiled brightly and stepped away from him, ready to make her arrival with her husband. Narcissa gave him a reassuring smile and nodded. "Tu es très beau, Draco. Just... be yourself."

Draco gave her a weak smile and watched her leave his room, letting his shoulders slouch down the second the door shut. He ran his fingers through his hair again and let his mind dwell on thoughts that were unbearable.

"When has that ever worked out for me?" He muttered underneath his breath, looking in the mirror again to notice the only identifiable thing about him was his piercing silver eyes.

"Papa, why are you staring at me like that?" You asked, adjusting your flowing gown while your mother fussed with your hair.

"Yes, James, what are you staring at her for?" Lily inquired with an arched brow, perfectly pinning your hair into a dolled up bun and slipping a silver rose in its center.

"Nothing." James grumbled and fiddled with the peacock feathers on the end of your mask, thumbing the string. "Just... be safe, alright? This is your first time attending one of the King's socials without us. What if you get kidnapped?"

"James!" Lily gasped and smacked her husband on the chest, snatching the mask from him and handing it to you instead.

"Papa!" You laughed and kissed his cheek, pulling the mask over your head. "I'll be fine. Hermione and Ginny will be there, and Harry too." You pull your curls free from the mask and tilt your head at the mirror, touching up minor details such as the skewed mask and stray pieces of hair. "Besides, I doubt I'll dance much. Champagne and people-watching sounds far more appealing."

"Maybe mingle a little," Lily suggested and pinched her fingers together, leaning into her husband’s touch. "It's for the young Malfoy to find a wife, after all."

"I'm not fraternizing with Draco," You huffed and adjusted the silver necklace resting on your collarbone, the setting sun shining across the jewelry. "Harry and he practically hate each other. Not exactly ideal courtship material."

"Imagine you as queen," James mused and pretended to command a group of handmaids to fetch more books for your extensive library. You were always going to be a bookworm like your mother and he bet you would do anything to have a room the size of the palace for your books.

"James!" Lily scolded jokingly once more before smiling softly at you, clasping your hands in hers. "Just be safe, Y/N."

"Of course," You squeezed her hands and smiled back before heading out the door, tilting your head as you called out for your brother. "Harry!"

James winced as your voice echoed throughout the foyer, Lily letting a small laugh slip through. "Bloody hell, that girl can shout.”

"Why does this place look fancier than usual?" Ron grumbled, glancing around the grand ballroom adorned with glittering chandeliers and cascading drapes.

It wasn't odd to see the palace all dolled up, but everything looked so much more expensive and one of a kind. Like it was an even more special experience. There were pyramids of champagne in every corner and in the center of the ballroom was one of the largest orchestra groups you’ve seen in years.

"Because it's a masquerade ball, Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes and tightened her grip on his arm, making him kiss her cheek to make up for his remark. "Honestly."

"So, Y/N," Ginny nudged your shoulder—a mischievous smile decorating her face—ignoring Harry’s warning look. "Anyone you're hoping to dance with tonight?"

"I don’t think so, Gin.” You push your mask up and stare at all the people entering the palace. Even they were surprised at all the added decorations.

"Boring," Ginny teased before leaning into Harry and whispering something inaudible, making you roll your eyes at the two of them. If they had to be so in love, they shouldn’t do it in front of you.

Just as you opened your mouth to retort the sickening sweet scene, trumpets blared from the top of the staircase, redirecting everyone's attention to the far end of the ballroom where Lucius and Narcissa stood—the couple adorning their own masks.

"Please welcome His Majesty, the King, and Her Majesty, the Queen!"

Lucius made quick remarks about the importance of the evening before a sly grin appeared on his face, earning quiet whispers from the audience. "Enjoy yourselves tonight! For who knows when the prince will arrive..."

The whispers only intensified at the mention of the prince arriving at a later time. Could he possibly be avoiding the event himself? But that would make sense, not when the event was for him.

"Interesting," Hermione murmured as if she read your mind, making your brows raise in amusement.

"What is?" Ron asked.

"Draco isn't here for his own ball," She noted, glancing around the room for any signs of the prince.

You huff and push her toward her beloved. You would make sure Hermione had a good time rather than dwell on something that didn’t matter too much. If you had to see your brother and Ginny be all lovey, you would have Ron and Hermione do the same.

"Go dance with Ron."

Hermione sighed and took Ron's outstretched hand before looking back at you, narrowing her eyes. "Do not be a wallflower tonight. I expect you to dance with someone at least once.”

You shrug your shoulders and watch her disappear into the dancing crowd before spinning toward one of the many towers of champagne. Unfortunately, someone just had to come find you.

"Lady Y/N!" A familiar voice called out, making you freeze at how awful this coincidence was. It wasn’t like you could’ve avoided the man for too long, especially when the whole bloody kingdom was invited to the ball.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." You muttered under your breath and presented a fake smile to him, hands clenching by your sides in annoyance as you gave him a short curtsey. "Lord Cormac."

"How delightful to see you!" Cormac grinned and eyed you up and down like you were his next meal, your mind and body hating everything about him. "Would you like to accompany me this evening?"

Your eyes widened in fear and disgust, mind racing millions per hour to find a plausible excuse. “Actually—“

"Is there a problem?" A smooth, unfamiliar voice interrupted your pathetic excuse, allowing you to recollect your thoughts.

Cormac's grin faltered at the sudden interruption, taking a short step back at the sight of the taller man. "We were talking."

"I believe the lady declined," The newcomer said evenly, keeping his face as schooled as possible.

Cormac huffed but retreated in annoyance, making you grin. You turned to the stranger to find him staring McLaggen down until the boy finally moved to the other side of the ballroom. His mask obscured most of his face, but his silver eyes gleamed with amusement and victory. Funny, you found his McLaggen’s obedience quite amusing as well.

"My knight and shining armor." You quipped and tucked your hands behind your back, taking small steps toward the champagne tower you were supposed to be minutes ago. "Have we met?"

"Not officially," He smirked beneath his mask and followed, copying your small movements. "A masquerade ball is about knowing someone without truly knowing them, isn't it?” He took two glasses from the tower and handed you one—doing his best not to knock any other glasses down. “Forgive me for keeping my identity a secret.”

"Then I'll do the same, my knight." You give june a curt nod before taking a sip, the drink fizzing down your throat.

"Is that what I am now?" He chuckled and looked at you from above the rim of his own drink, silver eyes shining with interest.

You grin, "Yes."

He hummed and tilted his head at you, "Then you shall be my Ivy.”

"Unique." You raise your brows and take another sip of champagne. "Why Ivy?"

"You're dressed in a deep green," He noted. "And as unassuming as you may look, I sense there's poison beneath."

"You say that like you know me already," You narrowed your eyes playfully, placing your glass back on a passing tray as a song finished.

"A quick interaction is all one needs." He countered and finished off his champagne. He waited for the music to start up again before offering you a hand, "Care to dance?"

Without a second thought, you took his hand and readied yourself in the starting position, joining the rest of the partners on the floor. Your right hand was gently clasped in his left and his hand was warm on your waist.

It all felt different than the other times you’ve danced. It felt comfortable.

You tilted your head up as he spun you around, your eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Tell me about yourself."

"Well, I’m an only child," He said as you moved to walk around one another, eyes still locked onto yours. "Rarely left home unless dragged to events like these. Not much of an exciting life."

"Surely there's more. Friends? Acquaintances?" You press and take hold of his hand as he glides you across the ballroom—each note from the orchestra filling the background.

"Most used me for status." He admitted and quickly adjusted his mask and hold on you. "I learned from it.” You nodded and lightly held onto his arms when he dipped you, faces mere inches from one another. He pulled you up, “And you?"

"One older brother. Protective to a fault. Thinks every man is a threat." You rolled your eyes and separate yourself from him, letting him follow before clasping his left hand again. "I’ll admit, I came to the ball to be with friends.” You follow his steps as the dancers created a gorgeous pattern from above. “Dancing wasn't on the agenda, but... this isn't terrible.”

He smiled at your confession before remembering what the point of this ball was for. "What are your thoughts on the prince?"

"He can be...” You hesitated and looked around like the prince himself could hear you. “Difficult."

"Difficult?" He echoed and tilted his head to the side in interest.

"My brother has always had a grudge against him." You explained before spinning, heels clicking against the marble flooring. "I've had to endure their spats. Not the best memories. But it's not like I'll speak to him tonight."

He chuckled softly, silver eyes glinting behind his mask. "You never know. Masquerades are full of surprises."

And as you danced together, the room blurred began to blur, the weight of titles and expectation fading into the music and laughter. You found yourself relaxing, allowing the mysterious man to guide you across the floor with ease. His hand on your waist was steady yet respectful, and for the first time, you found yourself enjoying a ball.

"You're a good dancer," You remarked, glancing up at him through your mask—his blonde hair perfectly combed except for a small curl at the front.

"I've had years of practice," He replied smoothly. "Though I usually find these events unbearable. This is... different."

You smiled. It’s like you had the same thoughts. "Perhaps the mask makes it easier to be yourself. No judgements. No expectations."

He hummed thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on you. "Perhaps. Or perhaps its the company."

Heat crept up your neck, and you glanced away, spotting Ginny grinning at you from the sidelines. You shot her a playful glare before focusing back on your partner. "Careful, my knight. Flattery might get you into trouble."

"Is that a risk you're willing to let me take?" He teased and dipped you, your eyes quickly darting to his lips before meeting his eyes again with your wide ones.

Before you could respond, the music shifted, signaling the end of the dance. He gently released you, bowing with a flourish. "Thank you for the dance, Ivy."

You curtsied in return, heart pounding from whatever feeling you just experienced. "The pleasure was mine, Knight."

As you parted ways, you found yourself glancing back at him, only to see he was doing the same. You quickly turned, chastising yourself for the flutter in your chest.

Draco leaned against a column, exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. There was something about the girl—the way she challenged him, spoke without pretense. He shook his head. It was foolish to dwell on a fleeting interaction. Yet... He couldn't ignore the way his chest tightened at the thought of her laughter.

"Enjoying yourself?" Blaise sidled up next to him, nursing a glass of champagne.

Draco kept his eyes locked on the many guests in the ballroom, scouring the place for his Ivy. He wasn’t sure if this was what his mother told him about when he was younger. That maybe those silly fairy tales were true.

"Surprisingly," Draco admitted and let out a small chuckle. "Met someone... intriguing."

Blaise arched a brow, "Do tell."

Draco merely smirked, "Just someone worth dancing with.”

The night wore on with more dances, laughter, and champagne than you anticipated. Yet, your thoughts kept drifting back to the silver-eyed stranger. When you finally decided to seek fresh air, you slipped out to the palace gardens, the cool breeze a welcome relief.

"Running away?" A familiar voice drawled, your insides warming at the sound.

You turned, finding him seated on a marble bench beneath a canopy of roses. "Escaping," You corrected and fiddled with your necklace. "Balls can be… suffocating."

"Agreed," He nodded and patted the space beside him, tilting his head at you. "Care to join me?"

Hesitating only a moment, you sat down, the silence between you comfortable. Stars glittered above, and for a while, neither of you spoke. It felt nice.

"Why Ivy?" You asked suddenly. You were sure there was something more to the nickname than what he previously said.

He chuckled and leaned back on the bench. "Told you. Your dress. The presence you carry. You cling to walls but have thorns when approached. Fascinating contrast."

You rolled your eyes but smiled, humoring him. "And you? You're alright with Knight?"

"You said it yourself. Rescuing you from McLaggen was quite the heroic act." He grinned and met your eyes.

Laughing, you nudged him with your shoulder. "Hardly slaying dragons."

"Ah, but you never know." He mused, gaze drifting to the sky and tracing the stars his mother taught him about all these years. "Like I said, masquerades are full of surprises."

You glanced at him, wondering what he meant by that, but the sound of the final dance being announced interrupted your thoughts.

"One more?" He offered, standing and extending his hand.

"Why not?" Taking it, you let him lead you back inside with a smile your swore would hurt your cheeks the next day.

The ballroom felt different this time. More intimate. As you danced, you realized you didn't want the night to end. There was something inexplicably magnetic about him, something you couldn't place but didn't want to let go of.

"Do you think we'll meet again after tonight?" You ventured and glance between his eyes.

He hesitated, something flickering in his gaze. "Perhaps. Or perhaps it's best we don't. Some things are better left as a beautiful memory."

Your heart sank at the thought of truly knowing who your knight was. "I suppose that's true."

As the music reached its crescendo, he leaned in, voice a mere whisper against your ear. "Thank you for tonight, Ivy."

Before you could reply, he stepped back, bowing deeply. And then, just like that, he disappeared into the crowd.

You stood frozen, scanning the room, but he was gone.

"Y/N! There you are!" Hermione’s voice suddenly filled the space as she grabbed your arm. "The prince is about to reveal himself. Come on!"

Reluctantly, you followed her to the front of the crowd, mind half-heartedly paying attention to the reveal of the prince. Trumpets blared once more, and the King stepped forward, his wife grinning brightly by his side.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending. Now, allow me to present my son, your future king. Prince Draco."

Your breath caught as a figure ascended the stairs. The crowd parted, and there he stood—silver eyes, blonde hair, and the very same mask now resting in his hand.

Your heart stopped.

No. It couldn't be.

His gaze swept over the crowd... and landed on you. His expression mirrored your shock, realization dawning.

You were Ivy.

And he was Draco.

Neither of you spoke. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the middle of the grand ballroom.

Masquerades, you thought dazedly, really were full of surprises.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[calebsmoocher]

Sucking him off while he fucks you with his evol

Being a renowned thief, Caleb knows where to go first when his things go missing: her room. In his search, however, he finds a peculiar, pink, phallic possession of hers. Cw: smut, so MDNI, oral (m receiving), inappropriate use of evol, use of sex toy, girl i tried to put fluff in there

She had a habit of taking things. Well, borrowing, she’d justify vehemently. First it was his sweaters. Turn his back once and she’d snatch the pillars of comfort that got him through the winter.

“You know, I do your laundry as well,” he’d say. She wouldn’t spare him a glance, swaying slowly in her chair. She’d be hunched over her coursework, pen tapping at her lip.

“Yeah? Well why can’t I find my sweater? The pink one with hearts.”

“Now I’ve gotta fold your laundry as well?” He approached her focused form, leaning down to hover above her head. His fingers pinched the fabric of his sweater, the expanse of fabric allowing him to tug on it without the chance of pulling her arm with it. “It doesn’t even fit you.”

“I’m not taking it off. I’m too warm,” she whined, throwing her head back to lean against him. Warmth flooded his cheeks. Stifling a cough, he pushed her head back down playfully.

“I’m not asking; don’t worry. Go back to doing your work.”

Sometimes it would be his headphones. 

“I have to twist mine a certain way to get them to work!” She’d cry.

Or his switch. 

“Oh please, just ten more minutes. I even beat your high score!”

Even on occasion his aerospace textbooks. 

Caleb was rifling through his bookcase, wanting to refresh his mind on his academy coursework. It was only after he cleared the first two shelves when had clocked his biggest mistake being not checking her room first. And there they were, right as his eyes landed on her desk. She had three of them stacked under her monitor.

“You’re just taking anything at this point. Are you sure it’s not because you miss me? Should I also take some time off?”

She’d scoff, handing him the books. “Yes, my eyes miss my monitor being at eye-level. You’re going to be the one massaging me when I have neck problems from hunching over this screen.”

With her constant violations of petty thievery, it was impossible to tell his room apart from hers. 

And this behaviour continued its way to Skyhaven. She was staying with him while on leave at the association. Over her frequent but brief visits, a lot of her items had already accumulated within his house.

Caleb had just returned from an early finish at the fleet. He narrowed his eyes; his house was empty. Had she gone sightseeing without him? Pulling his uniform cap off, he figured he’d start on dinner. Would she even be back in time? Should he call her? He swallowed thickly. He should lay off her; she wasn’t a child anymore. 

He pulled his gloves off and reached for his necklace on the bedside table. But his nails hit the smooth surface, no chain in sight. That was weird. He had placed it here before he left in the morning, the particular fleet mission not allowing him to wear metallic accessories. Had he placed it somewhere else? He wasn’t one to forget where he’d place such an important keepsake. Maybe his table? He turned around before scoffing. Oh. Nevermind. He was ashamed it hadn’t been his first instinct. Of course, she had taken it. Or borrowed it, whatever. 

The first place he looked was her desk. It didn’t immediately jump out at him. Of course, she could have it on, he thought. But now that he was in her room, it’d give him the chance to retrieve any other items she had managed to paw off him. 

He pulled the top drawer of her bedside table out. Score, he thought. There was an assortment of silver jewelry poking out between the ruffles of fabric of one of his favourite shirts. He’d hit two birds with one stone, he guessed. But when he pulled the shirt away his eyes widened, blood rushing to his ears. The pounding echo of his heartbeat was sounding right in his ears. Hidden, poorly under his shirt he’d add, was a pinkish translucent, silicon dildo. And it was rolling side to side in all its thick, girthy, glory. Caleb gaped. This thing was huge. Easily ten inches, with artificial veins protruding from its smooth surface. 

The familiar chime of her placing her keys on the kitchen bench caught his attention with a jolt. He slammed the draw shut.  

“Caleb?” The girl swung her head up at the sharp noise, cautiously dropping her bag. The noise had come from her bedroom. When she went to investigate, he was standing over her bed, not facing her. “You’re back already? I bought some mushrooms and water chestnuts. How about we make wontons tonight?” Caleb sucked in a breath before turning, slowly. He shot her a smile. As he took her in, there his chain lay, gleaming brightly on her chest. Maybe curiosity really had killed the cat. She followed his gaze and smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, I felt like wearing it. I didn’t want it to be lonely.” “You’re cute.”

She reached for the clasp behind her neck. “Were you looking for…” Her voice slowed as her eyes moved over his rigid form. His face was calm, but the tips of his ears were ember. She furrowed her brows, eyes tracing down to his hands. He was holding her shirt. His shirt. The shirt. Her heart dropped. 

No. Why did all the embarrassing shit happen to her? She didn’t have to address this. She’d turn right around and march back into the kitchen.

“You can say your excuses now. I’m listening.” Caleb had straightened up, relaxing from his previously robotic stance. 

Run. Run. That’s all she knew how to do. Because crossing this boundary would destroy her. His jaw tightened in the silence. Was he letting her run away from this? Or was it finally time to address the overbearing tension that had been neglected for so long that it had seeped its way into their every interaction?

“I…” she took a step back. The kiss they silently swore to never talk about haunted her. Had it harrowed over his mind in the same ways? 

She could play it off as not being a big deal. “I’m an adult. This… These things are natural,” she would argue.

“But wrapped in my shirt? I don’t think that’s appropriate.You know my feelings towards you,” is what he’d say in reply. Cold, callous and without the comforting, teasing lilt to his voice. She shook her head, wanting to scream into her fists. There were too many bad possibilities to come. 

She felt the sting of tears brim at her waterline. Fuck. Caleb noticed, mouth opening then shutting then opening again. His eyes were frantic over her form.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. I know it’s…” He began to stammer. “It’s…normal to…”

She cut him off. “It’s not weird, right?”

He shook his head slowly. A pause. “Weird that it was…?” At a loss for words, he gestured to his shirt still held tightly in his hand. Wrapped in his shirt.

Fuck. She swallowed thickly.

“Does it mean anything?” His voice was gentle. Cautious.

She shut her eyes tightly. “Maybe.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Is it weird?” Her voice was on the precipice of breaking. She felt his hand at the back of her head, bringing her in for a ginger hug. He laughed softly.

“No, it’s not weird.” He tilted her chin to meet her reluctant gaze. “How often do you use it?”

This time she actually sobbed. “You’re joking, right?”

He struggled to suppress a smile, wanting to shift the heaviness in the room out. “Do you think about me when you…”

Oh, she had had enough of this man. Almost smacking him across the face, she pressed her palm over his mouth. Fuck this was no happening right now. She did not just hear that. 

Her eyes clenched shut as she hung her head. She felt him snicker into her palm and her brows creased.

“I’ve heard you in the shower, you know? Do you think about me when you’re…” She trailed off with purpose and furrowed her brows up at him. It contrasted his sickly sweet smile. 

“Yes, I do.” His smile widened at her gasp. “Always. It’s only ever been you.”

“Caleb…”

He pulled her hand away from his mouth. His hand slid down from her head to her lower back, thumb pressing small strokes into the fabric. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, she reached up to gently clasp at his neck, guiding him down. The few seconds it took for him to close in on her strained her breath. His eyes trained on her. The part of his lips and ragged breath that fanned over her own. She didn’t want to bask in it any longer, lest she lost the adrenaline thumping through her veins. His kiss was firm, nothing like the cautious exterior he had been so careful to display. His left hand cupped her cheek, tipping her jaw up to deepen the kiss. She clung to his wrist. 

His scent engulfed her. She wanted to get closer, worm her way right against his chest. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair. See if she could elicit a sound so vulnerable from him. 

When he broke the kiss, it was only to begin pressing frantic kisses down her jaw and neck. She gasped, using the moment to gently grab strands of hair at the back of his head, running her nails down to his nape. 

He groaned into her. And she felt a spark in her stomach.

“Will you…” His breath was short as he continued to press kisses into her skin through his words. “Will you show me how you use it on yourself?” He had opened her bedside table again, pawing blinding at the silicone toy. Fuck, he was joking. 

Her face reddened. “Caleb…”

“Am I asking for too much?” He asked genuinely through a laugh. 

She rolled her eyes, feeling the adrenaline plateau inside her. He had left her breathless far too many times in the span of five minutes. 

“I think you’ve done enough.” She pushed at his chest, guiding him backwards. When his legs hit her chair, she pushed him down into it. He laughed through his chest, gleaming up at her with an arrogant smile.

“You have me all to yourself. I’m completely in your care.”

She flushed at his brazenness, slowly dropping to her knees before him. Maybe the adrenaline was spiking again, but seeing him from this new angle had her heart threatening to jump out of her throat. 

“Can I use my mouth on you?” 

His arrogance slipped. He caressed her head again, searching her eyes. “Please,” he said. Gently, weakly.

She sucked in a breath before shakily reaching for his zipper. The whine of the zipper undoing was the only sound besides their ragged breaths. His eyes scrutinised her every move, mouth agape. He helped her drag his pants down, pooling at his knees. He guided her to look up at him again, and they both had a chance to recognise the mutual fear thrumming within them.

“You’re so pretty.” He stroked her hair. “My pretty girl.”

Through his briefs she guessed he was half-hard. She brought her hand up, palming him gently. She had never done this. Was this okay? Was she being too rough? Not rough enough? He sensed her hesitance, encompassing his own hand over hers.

“Like this,” he offered, pressing firmly. His fingers curled around hers, encouraging her to take a confident grip over the fabric. It was hot, and it filled her entire hand. She assumed a steady pace, moving her grip up and down. He let out a shaky breath, and his other hand tightened around the arm chair. She could feel his cock twitch and begin to fully harden. Something in her stomach jumped. Gaining confidence, she tugged at the waistband of his briefs, shimmying them down to join his pants. His cock sprung up against his stomach, beads of precum dripping down a thick girth. She swallowed in anticipation. And placed a fleeting kiss on his tip.

“Fuck…” His cheeks were dusted pink. He leaned forward planting his own quick kiss on her forehead before reaching down between her legs. “Should I help you out as well?” He tugged on her skirt, flipping the fabric up over her ass. His breath hitched as he stared down at her cotton panties. “Are these new?”

If she wasn’t gripping his cock and trying to pleasure him as best she could, she would have slapped him upside the head. “What, don’t tell me you’re a panty sniffer.”

He barked back a laugh. “I think it’s more concerning that you still ask me to do your laundry at your ripe age.”

“Yes, I’ve got the Colonel wrapped around my finger, doing trivial things like my laundry.”

He traced the seams of the fabric, pressing into her skin. “Yes, you’ve got the Colonel entirely to yourself. Will you be good to him?” His fingers followed the fabric to circle at her heat. She gasped. It was hard to keep a steady rhythm as his fingers teased pushing in. Eventually, he settled for drawing gentle circles at her clit; then looping down to tease her entrance through the fabric. “Don’t stop.”

She listened, guiding him into her mouth. She sucked at the tip, rolling her tongue to sweep the underside of his cock. She watched him intently, stomach mimicking all the sharp intakes he did as he shifted in his seat.

“You feel so good,” he whined. The steady motions of his hand were breaking up. But it felt good. Knowing that she was doing this to him. That her cunt was leaking and swollen in anticipation for his fingers. “Good girl,” he choked out, “you’re so good to me.”

She took him deeper, supporting the base of his cock with both of her hands. Her eyes were trained on his. Shaking slightly, she experimented with taking him deeper. The tip of his cock hit the back of her throat and she lurched back, gasping for her as he slid out from her.

“Fuck, are you okay?”

She laughed. “I’m okay. Was I okay? Did it feel good?”

He stroked her chin, wiping the saliva from her lips. “You were amazing. You made me feel so good.” He brushed the stray hairs away from her eyes. “Don’t push yourself to take more than you can.”

“I wanna keep going.” She nudged his hand away, taking the base of his cock into her hands again.

“Woah, wait up.” He reached over her towards her bed, grabbing her pillow. “Lift your legs.” Shakily, she let him place the pillow between her and the floor. She sunk down into the plush, her knees buzzing from being pressed into the carpet. 

“Thanks…”

He leaned over her again, and she heard the drag of her bedside table opening. “I think it’s time you showed me how you’ve been using this toy of yours.” Her ears reddened. 

“Caleb, that’s embarrassing.” She tried to grab the dildo from him, but he held it out of her reach. “Don’t you want me to keep using my mouth on you? You said it feels good. I want you to cum.” He remained unfazed by her words, much to her dismay. 

“I really want to use this on you, though. Won’t you let me see you take it?” He studied the obscene phallic item closely. Now that she could see it in comparison to Caleb’s cock, she noted that while Caleb was thicker, the toy was longer. That’s what she got for ordering a size large. 

“What are you going to do?” She mumbled. Her cheeks were still ablaze as she watched him.

“Don’t worry. I have an idea you’ll like.” To her horror, she watched as the dildo began to hover in his hand, held up by an invisible force. It rounded her field of vision until it prodded at the fabric of her panties. She felt her stomach flip. Like the ground beneath had suddenly given out and she was in free fall.  “Pull your panties to the side.”

Shakily, she did as she was told. The rush of cold air almost made her jump until she felt the the cool silicone press against her heat. 

“Your toy is so big. Can you really take all of it?”

She covered her face. She was never going to live this down. “Not all of it. Please be gentle.” She felt him kiss her forehead before lifting her head to meet his gaze. 

“I’ll let you decide. You’re the one showing me how you use it, remember?” Confused, she nodded anyway. She guided the dildo into her swollen cunt, gasping shakily at the intrusion. No matter what she did, the initial push would always elicit a quivering moan. “Good girl. Hands on me.” She expected the toy to slide back out of her once she withdrew her hands but it stayed perfectly in place. Her hands returned to their position at the base of his cock. More precum had leaked out, dripping down into her hands. She suckled on the tip, eager to prevent anymore from making a mess. Caleb groaned, positioning one hand at the back of her head. The other, he held out beside her in a beckoning motion. 

“Mmph!” Her eyes snapped open as the toy began to move inside her. Slowly. On its own. But shallowly. Her eyes caught onto Caleb’s fingers, matching the steady push and pull of the toy inside her. 

“You can hold onto me. Show me how much you can take.”

Mouth full of his cock, she latched onto his hand for support, feeling him tug her fingers back and forth with him. Her index and third finger curled around his own two fingers. And he moved them slowly, bringing them closer to his palm. She felt the toy push into her. When his fingers expanded out again, she felt the toy retreat. 

“Go faster or go slower; whatever you want. I want to see.” 

Tears brimmed at her eyes. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Slowly, she maneuvered his fingers faster, fucking herself. His eyes gleamed as he stared down at her. His breath was uneven. He could barely contain his groans from spilling out. Here she was, fucking herself with her secret dildo through his evol. He didn’t know how much longer he could watch before he came.

She moaned onto his cock, the vibrations setting him off with another groan. The salty taste of his precum was all she could taste. His girth alone was stretching her mouth, forcing laboured breaths through her nose.

“You’re doing so well. Keep going. Keep fucking yourself.”

Maybe there was no shame in it. He wanted to see her fall apart. She pushed and pulled his fingers faster. Rougher. Brazenly pistoning the dildo in and out of herself. Her body jolted forwards, forcing his cock deeper in her mouth. She wasn’t sure she could fit more than half of him in her mouth without gagging. 

“Mmmph.” She couldn’t even speak. And his words only pushed her further towards the edge.

“Fuck, you feel you so fucking good. Keep going, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

She moaned in reply. Her mind was going delirious. Her fingers began to falter around his, losing pace of the toy. She couldn’t keep focused on so many things at once.

Caleb leaned down to her ear. “Want me to decide?” 

She groaned in approval, forfeiting control and letting her hand slide back down to his cock.

“Alright then.” The pace of the toy picked up. It was harder and faster, but she could take it. Her legs were shaking, barely able to hold her body up. She watched his fingers strain in their curled position, his frantic want for her to cum amplified through the dildo’s relentless thrusts.

“Are you going to cum?” 

She moaned in affirmation, voice getting frantic. Her walls were clamping down along the toy. To stop it? To keep it from pulling out? She couldn’t tell; all her thoughts had melted down into drool seeping from the corners of her lips. She felt the coil in her stomach twinge and strain as her legs shook.

“Fuck. Come. You can let go. Let go for me.” 

She whined, squeezing her legs together. The next thrust pushed her over the edge, snapping the coil and forcing her legs to squeeze as tight as she could. Caleb slowed his fingers, letting her ride out her orgasm. 

She sucked in a huge gasp of air before lowering back down on his cock. She was determined to have him cum in her mouth after that.

“Fuck. Holy shit,” he groaned. His grip on her head tightened, following her movements as she moved up and down his length. “Stop. I’m gonna cum.” She met his eyes and shook her head. “I’m going to come in your mouth. Please…” 

She gasped. “Do it. I want it.”

He groaned, throwing his head back. He couldn’t stop his hips from bucking, pushing his cock further into her mouth. She tried to swallow the gag, determined to let him finish. He bit his lip to filter out the sound of his groans as he came. Ropes of come spilled into her mouth. Hot and slightly thick. She furrowed her brows, not allowing any to escape. She wanted to be good for him.

He gave a few more weak thrusts up into her before sagging back down into the chair.

“You…” He laughed. His hands came around her face, lifting her off him. “Are you okay?”

She was breathless, forcing a smile through her exhaustion.

“Tired, but okay. How was it?”

“You killed me.” He wiped a hand over his brow. He was still using his evol to keep the dildo in place inside her. “Can I take it out?”

“Yeah. Slowly.” The toy withdrew from her and she winced as she felt the run of warm liquid down her thighs.

“Fuuck,” he dragged out. Despite the mess on both of them, he lifted her off her knees and pulled her into his lap. “Does it hurt anywhere?” She shook her head, leaning against him. He moved in to kiss her, but before he could she frowned.

“You want to kiss me? After all that?”

He shook his head in dismissal, scoffing at her. His lips met hers and he gave her a firm kiss. She felt her cheeks tingle at the sight. 

“Let’s stay like this for a minute. Then I’ll clean ya up, promise.”

She nodded, reaching up to brush his hair away from his sweaty forehead. A silence enveloped them as they caught their breaths.

She shifted in his lap, looking up at him.

“How come you were in my room?” 

He gave her an expression of feigned hurt. “Now I’m not allowed to come into your room?”

Shaking her head, the corner of her lips curled up. “I caught you snooping.”

He kissed her nose. “I think I caught you with something worse, you pervert.” Hell, he was never going to let her live this down. 

a/n: the idea that made me create a tumblr! This has unfortunately just opened my mind to what else his evol might be capable of. 

[rafesangelita]

sheep!reader going to a party w rafe? 🤍

warnings: icky!s1!rafe, heavy teasing, drug use, kelce and topper are kinda gross, public groping, smoking, peer pressure (?), sheep is slightly embarrassed but too shy to say anything, a little bit of rough handling, suggestive language, rafe saying he’ll ‘share’ sheep..

“well, look who we have here!” topper lifted his head from the white line he was about to snort off of the coffee table before scooting over, making room on the sofa for you and rafe to squeeze between him and kelce. rafe was all smiles when he pulled you onto his lap, your cheeks heating as you felt your dress ride up your thighs. “i didn’t think we’d ever see you at a party..” topper leaned in, the close proximity making a shiver run down your spine. truth be told, you didn’t think you’d ever be seen at a party either, but here you were, your boyfriend’s fingers slipping under your dress while two of his best friends watched you with lustful eyes.

it had taken a good portion of the evening for rafe to convince you to come out with him, your heart hammering in your chest the whole ride over here. not knowing what to say, you hid your face in rafe’s chest, all three of them laughing at your shy demeanor. “aww, come on, let us see that pretty face.” you stayed hidden, rafe’s large palm kneading your flesh as he reached for the bong on the table. “kelce, ‘you light me up?” you heard the flicker of a lighter, peeking up from rafe’s shirt as he inhaled from the glass structure, the sound of bubbles filling up your ears.

rafe took a long drag, holding the smoke in for a few moments before blowing all of it in your face, making you gasp softly before you started coughing. your eyes watered, the two boys on either side of you dabbing each other up as they found amusement in your obvious discomfort. “rafe..” you whispered, a pout adorning your lips while he pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot on your neck. you couldn’t help the small whimper from leaving your lips, the sound drawing both topper and kelce’s attention. “damn, rafe, when are you gonna let us get in on this?” kelce placed a hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin.

“forreal, this shy little thing is just so cute.” topper added, his hand finding the small of your back. rafe could tell by the nervous look on your face that you weren’t sure how to react, his facial expression turning into one of amusement. “tell you what..” he stroked the side of your face, “give me a bump and we can share.” seeing the way your eyes widened was almost comical, topper wasting no time in scooping some of the blow onto his finger tip. “give this to him, sweetheart.” instinctively, you accepted his digit, letting him lay the blow on the back of your hand.

holding your hand up to rafe’s nose, he covered one of his nostrils, snorting the powder until only a little bit of residue was left. “lick it.” rafe gripped the back of your neck, him and his friends staring at you intently. “yeah, do it, baby.” “you’ll feel so good..” you swallowed thickly, your eyebrows drawing together as they watched your tongue lick a small stripe up your skin. apart of you was scared of the after effects of this stuff, but still, you obeyed. rafe was smiling ear to ear, his corruption kink going off the charts right now. “what the fuck!” topper laughed, both him and kelce sitting in disbelief.

“she really fucking did it?!” kelce moved closer, your boyfriend roughly grabbing your cheeks as he shook your head around. “of course she did,” he cupped you through your panties, “she’ll do whatever i tell her to.. right, ‘pretty?” you nodded, gripping rafe’s forearm as topper moved your hair to one side of your frame. “come on, man, just a taste.” rafe pulled you into a kiss, his palm coming up to cup your tits over the lacey material of your dress. despite his earlier words, rafe was far too greedy to share you with anyone. “not a fucking chance, thornton.”

[thalwri]

CRISP AND CHARRED!

synopsis: why bake when you can get your back blown by your favourite prince from philos?

warnings: porn no plot, masturbation, teasing, feral!xavier, feral!reader, backshots behind a couch

wc: 998

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

xavier had learned something new today. don’t bake when you’re with someone you’ve missed. you’ll burn the food. and in his defence you probably would have too. in an attempt to try out with creme brulée, you had gotten a bit too distracted.

with what?

you had dropped a spoon on the floor and reached down to get it, not expecting much from that. what you hadn’t taken into account was that the lining of your panties pressed against your shorts that tightly wrapped around your plump ass and hips, emphasising the curve and pulsating puffiness of your pussy lips.

if it wasn’t for that spoon always slipping from your grip until it was under his couch, making you eventually drop to your knees to reach for it. the curves of your back arched, those swollen folds rubbed against the moving fabric of your clothing as you wiggled in search for the spoon. just one more swift shake of that ass of yours and he would have seen your pussy exposed.

the thought of it sent jolts down to his swelling cock. there was already an imprint of his length hardening on his pants. but he didn’t bother hiding it. not while he had a magnificent sight to witness.

his hands had itched to squeeze and fondle those soft mounds of fat and lay kisses and bites all over it. his hand traveled down to his now fully erect cock and gently rubbed it in its clothed state. a shaky silent sigh left his lips as your back further arched, pushing that ass higher up.

his rock hard cock throbbed, leaking globs of clear fluid onto his clothing. but that only egged him on to stroke himself more, to succumb to his body’s needs. a soft moan resonated from the couch, by where you were. another moan slipped out, a result of you stretching yourself to find the spoon.

“xavier,” your voice was like honey, pulling him into your abyss like a tempest dragging him to an endless whirlpool. “hold me.”

“why?” his voice was strained, hoarse and dry as if all the moisture in his mouth went straight down his body. 

“what if i get– ah– stuck?” your pretty ass wiggled again. there was no way you weren’t doing that on purpose. “i need you to hold me.”

reluctantly– that’s a lie, he was overjoyed– xavier knelt down behind you and slowly curled his fingers over your waist, holding you still. he ached to move just a bit closer, to press his length right on your cunny lips. they were just calling out to him. so needy for him. he was so needy for you.

he would have maintained his restraint. really, he would have. at least before you jerked back, pressing yourself right on the print of his cock.

whether or not it wasn’t intentional was a question left for the wind to answer. because now, xavier was balls deep inside your pussy, pounding you into oblivion.

it felt like one of those washing machine porn videos, whether the woman would get stuck in the washing machine and would need help getting out, only to be fucked instead. or maybe it’s like a plumber kind of situation, where some part of her body is stuck or tangled in the bathtub and she gets fucked for a free repair service.

but neither of those stood a chance to the way xavier expertly found your sweet spot deep within your pussy, hitting it over and over again despite slipping his leaky cock into you just moments ago.

“you were doing it on purpose, weren’t you?” his naked torso curved over your nude form, one hand tightly gripping the head of the couch and the other fondling your nipples, twisting and squeezing them like his toys and holding your bouncing tiddies in place.

the only response you were capable of making was a string of incoherent moans. it was true, you had deliberately dropped the spoon and further used your charms to tease xavier. you didn’t really anticipate that he’d be just as aroused and hungry for you like you were for him.

“xa-xavier– i–“ his tongue swiped a wet line up your neck bringing you to a shudder. your head rested on the cushion he had grabbed for you to keep you comfy while he ploughed your dripping hole.

“concentrate on finding that spoon,” he cooed, enunciating each syllable with a sharp, deep, thrust, making sure you felt every vein massage your soaked gummy walls. 

he already came inside you twice, and you three times just in that position alone. you just had missed each other so much, especially after all the missions you had done separately in the last few weeks. it only felt natural to devour each other at some point, even if it was under the guise of a wholesome baking day.

“s-s-so– mmhfuck– so mean!” you cried, stretching your arms around until your finger grazed the cold metallic edge of the spoon you dropped. your gasp of victory turned into the sluttiest moan you’d made in months. even xavier was shocked to hear it.

“oh?” his hands massaged your waist to soothe you. he was shaking, both overstimulated, leaking endless amounts of cum into you and pounding all of the previous round’s back into you while the rest leaked onto the floor. “you’re so mmmuch louder today. ‘s it because you missed me?”

“i think– xavier!” he had already spent so much time edging you, and himself, you were about to explode at this point. and what about the food? “the crème brûlée– it’s burning–“

“let it burn,” you could just hear him grin. “i was probably going to anyway. besides,”

he pushed his hips as deep as your tight cunny could allow him to go. “i still need to take care of you.”

you two were definitely going to order food by the time you were done.

just a little drabble for xavier