#putting my hands on my face and looking off in the distance

[crushpunky]

drew visits actress!reader (+ jealousy ensues)

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

a follow up to drew and actress!reader feel the distance, however you don’t need to have read it. only thing to know is actress!reader is in a rom-com with tom blyth + drew is visiting her. warning for some sexual content, but nothing real :)

Y/n woke up early to get to set, insisting that Drew stay behind and catch up on lost sleep caused by his flight to meet her. He reluctantly agreed, spending the morning in y/n’s temporary apartment before coming to set to meet her on her lunch break.

“Come in!” Y/n shouted as she heard knocking at her trailer door. Drew opened the door, a grin on his face and arms full of food from her favorite taco place.

“Hello, my love. How was this morning?” Drew said as he entered y/n’s trailer, pressing a kiss to her head as he sat the food down on the table.

“Good. We shot mostly on the apartment set.” Y/n said, taking her food out and starting to dive into the foil. The sweet scent of cilantro filled y/n’s trailer as she took a bite, moaning as she savored the flavors. Drew chuckled, biting into his own tacos.

“So… are you planning on staying around set?” Y/n asked, her eyes remaining focused on her food in front of her, avoiding Drew’s face.

“Uh, yeah… if that’s alright with you.” Drew said with a quirk of his brow, his mouth full of food. Y/n nodded, flashing Drew a grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes. As happy as she was to see Drew, and to have him on set, the timing of the shooting schedule was a bit awkwardly unfortunate…

“Yeah, yeah, of course…” y/n said, trailing off and taking another small bite of her tacos. Drew’s brow furrowed, putting his food down before reaching across the table, taking y/n’s hand in his own.

“If you don’t want me to stay I don’t—” Drew said lowly, his thumb tracing gently along her knuckles.

“No, no. Of course I want you to say it’s just—” y/n ran a hand down her face with a groan, “we’re filming the scene today and… I don’t know, it might just be kinda weird is all.”

Drew’s face dropped slightly, a small noise of realization falling from his lips. When y/n was talking with him before taking this role, she’d mentioned that there were a few rather intimate scenes involved. She’d expressed some worry to him; worry about being so exposed on camera with an actor other than the actor she was in a relationship with. Drew, however, was more than supportive, encouraging her to go for it if it was what she wanted. Encouraging her that he trusted her just like she’d supported him on his own projects that required intense scenes.

“Hey, hey, I don’t want you to have to worry about me, a’ight? I’ll be ok.” Drew said, a slight grin on his lips as he squeezed y/n’s hand lightly. Y/n took in a deep breath, squeezing Drew’s hand back before wiping her mouth off with a napkin.

“Alright, alright. I love you and… I want you to stay. Please.” Y/n whispered. Drew nodded, flashing her a wide smile before lifting her hand to his lips.

“Y/n! We need you in hair and makeup in 5!” A sudden knock on the door interrupted them, causing the two of them to jump slightly.

“Coming!” Y/n shouted back, pressing a quick kiss to Drew’s head before heading to the door. Her hand rested on the handle for a second, turning back to look at Drew one last time.

“I love you.” Y/n said, a small but nervous look in her eyes as her eyes gazed over Drew.

“I love you, too, baby. You’ve got this.” Drew smiled back. With a final deep breath, y/n opened the door and headed to hair and makeup, ready to take on the scene that had been oh-so-present in the back of her mind.

Y/n adjusted her hair, smoothing down the front of her outfit one last time as the camera operators got into position. She stood in the kitchen of the apartment set, her co-star Tom just on the other side of the front door. The set up for the scene was that Tom’s character, James, was coming back to y/n’s character, Allison, after a tumultuous night that resulted in the two of them nearly crossing their carefully constructed line as friends.

“Alright, everyone in positions, please. Those not cleared to remain on set need to exit now.” The director shouted, setting himself up behind one of the cameras as the crew other than those deemed necessary for the scene exited the set. 

Tom and y/n had worked with an intimacy coordinator prior to shooting, figuring out every detail of the scene and ensuring all those involved were comfortable, especially herself and Tom. The two of them had gotten close while shooting, the awkward tension having mostly dissipated and allowing for the two of them to act as a believable couple without overthinking every minute detail. All of those discussions and time spent together led to this, a scene where they bared their souls (and bodies) to each other and the camera. After one last talk with the crew, Drew was cleared to stay behind, Tom more than willing to do whatever it took for y/n to feel most comfortable in their intimate scene.

Y/n spared Drew one last glance, him shooting back a thumbs up from behind the camera crew before settling into his seat. With a final deep breath, she turned back to face the door.

“Ok, and… action!” The director shouted, the cameras rolling as Tom knocked on the door.

“Coming!” Y/n said, placing her prop phone down on the table before making her way to the door. As she opened it, her eyes widened at Tom’s face.

“I… I can’t keep doing this, Allison.” Tom said lowly, taking a slow step towards y/n. Y/n took in a shaky breath, taking only a small step back as Tom grew closer.

“What? What are you talking about?” Y/n whispered, swallowing harshly as her eyes lingered on Tom’s lips.

“I can’t keep pretending we’re just friends.” Tom said, his jaw tense.

“I can’t either.” Y/n whispered. As soon as the words left her mouth, Tom’s lips were on hers. Her hands raised, cupping Tom’s cheeks as the two of them stumbled back into the apartment. Tom’s hands were all over her, holding her waist flush to himself as they continued kissing even as Tom closed the door. He spun her around, pressing y/n’s back against the door as her legs wrapped around his waist.

Behind the camera, Drew watched hesitantly, chewing at his bottom lip as Tom reached under y/n’s shirt, pulling it off to reveal the lacy purple bralette she was wearing. His lips immediately attached to her neck, y/n’s hands grabbing firmly onto Tom’s hair.

“James…” Y/n groaned, grabbing at the hem of Tom’s shirt before pulling it over his head. Her nails traced down Tom’s back as he pulled her away from the door, carrying her across the set until laying her down on the couch.

The scene continued on, the two actors performing their carefully practiced routine until the two of them were down to their nude colored modesty garments. They moved in sync until the scene reached its peak, the moment in which their characters finally said the words they’d been dancing around for so long.

“I love you.” Tom whispered against y/n’s neck as he pressed his body against her heaving chest. Drew found himself gripping the armrest of his chair, the sinking feeling in his stomach betraying every rational thought he had in his mind. He trusted Tom and he definitely trusted y/n, so why was he feeling like this?  

“I love you.” Y/n cried, burying her face in Tom’s neck with a sigh. Drew closed his eyes, swallowing harshly as he ran a hand down his face before standing from his chair. He rushed off the set, needing desperately to clear his racing thoughts before talking to y/n.

“Cut! That was perfect!” The director shouted from behind the camera. “We’re gonna check over the footage but I think we got it.”

As soon as the words left the directors mouth, Tom climbed off of y/n, reaching behind the couch for the cleverly hidden robes. Y/n sat up on the couch, smoothing her hair back as she took her robe from Tom.

“Nice job. Great as per usual.” Tom grinned as the two of them shrugged on their robes before offering his hand out to help y/n to her feet. Finally securely wrapped in her robe and off of the intensity of the scene, y/n eyes looked for Drew in his spot behind the camera, only to be greeted with an empty chair. Her face fell, a small breath falling from her lips as she hurried towards the crew.

“Where’d he go?” Y/n asked frantically, glancing at the director, who pointed out the back exit. Y/n ran through the door, her eyes immediately finding Drew. He sat on a bench, his head in his hands and back to her. His shoulders rose and fell slowly, his breathing deliberate as he tried his best to calm down.

“Drew?” Y/n said quietly, approaching Drew hesitantly. He lifted his head, his eyes wide as he looked up at her concerned face.

“Hey, I uh— I just needed some… fresh air.” Drew sighed, his voice betraying him as it cracked slightly. Y/n felt her stomach drop, the turmoil in Drew’s mind prevalent on his face as he tried his best to maintain his composure. With a sigh, y/n took a seat next to Drew, taking his hand. She held it lightly, her fingers tracing along the cool metal of his rings.

“Drew—” Y/n began.

“You guys did a good job.” Drew said lowly, his eyes finally meeting hers again. Y/n swallowed harshly, gnawing at her bottom lip as she looked back at him.

“Thanks…” Y/n nodded. “Are you okay?”

“I, um… I will be.” Drew sighed, running a hand through his hair. Y/n frowned, her heart breaking at the defeated tone of Drew’s voice. She felt horrible. Sure, she knew it was her job, and Drew had said he was okay with it, she couldn’t help but blame herself for the clear distress he was in.

“I’m sorry, Drew, I—” Y/n stammered, but was cut off as Drew shook his head harshly.

“No, no, don’t. Don’t apologize for doing your job.” Drew said. “If anything I should apologize for being… unprofessional.”

Y/n sighed, raising her hands to cup the sides of Drew’s face. He looked back at her, his hands naturally finding their place on her hips as her eyes bore into his.

“You’re allowed to feel… jealous, Drew.” Y/n whispered, causing Drew’s gaze to fall to the space between them as he closed his eyes. He shook his head slightly, biting at his bottom lip before lifting his eyes to meet hers again. He found himself trying to bite back a flustered grin, laughing at himself as he reflected back on the intense reaction he’d felt at the sight of someone touching y/n, even if it wasn’t real. Yeah. It was over for him. She was it, there was no denying it.

“You really messed me up, y’know that?” Drew chuckled. “I thought I was gonna throw up watching you guys… that’s some real rom-com shit.”

“It just means you must really like me.” Y/n said, a teasing smirk spreading across her lips as Drew tried to fight back his own grin before pressing his lips to hers. She felt a familiar buzz in her head, the light feeling that was noticeably absent when she was kissing Tom… but was always there each time Drew’s lips were on hers.

[plaidcowboy]

༘˚⋆𐙚｡𖦹✧ touching up rafe’s buzzcut

✿ ۪⋆

content: um like just hair razor stuff

author stamp: was thinking about the maintenance it’s sick

“no” you lightly slapped at rafe’s hand going to help you figure out the razor’s configurations. why was it not just on and off.

rafe opted to rest his hands on your waist instead, raising his brows at you to show he wouldn’t interfere anymore. “thank you” you said as you twisted the tool, spotting the switch to start it.

“mm mm” you cleared your throat, straightening up, getting into professional mode. this seemed a little scarier than just watching him do it. which was what prompted rafe now sitting in a stool in front of you in his bathroom, facing from the mirror so you could get a good view at the back of his head. you would just watch in awe as rafe swiftly trimmed a little from his cut, of course managing to make cutting hair look good.

when he headed into the bathroom today, he turned to you, remembering seeing you in the corner of his eye watching him. he had gestured the razor out to you. “wanna give it a try?” which your eyes widened at, a nod tusling your head before even thinking.

“you ready?” rafe nodded, still peering up at you with a little adoration and amusement in his eyes. he completely trusted you.

you leaned over, angling the razor to the center of the back of his head, the blades only touching his nape when you felt his hands tapping at your sides in a rhythmic pattern. you jumped back. “rafe!”

he continued to give you his innocent gaze. “hm?”

“no tapping, i can’t mess this up”

“oh, oh, sorry. m’bad, go ahead”

you lined the razor back up, sliding a straight trail upwards. eyes squinting in concentration, you worked on getting the sides, about to go over little bits when rafe playfully jerked his head to the side.

you put the razor out of distance. “oh my gosh!” you giggled. “are you crazy?”

rafe’s smile widened at you. “nah, what’re you talking about?” how he trusted you to not do anything wrong while teasing you was so unbeknownst to you. but he just did.

you gave him a weary stare. “i can’t mess this up, rafe..” first time doing this on him and making an accident? how devastated you would be.

“okay, ’m sorry” his tone sounding genuine, he pulled you closer with his arms fully circled around you, chin pressing into your sternum.

you gave a determined huff, putting the razor back to the crown of his head, getting the last bit of hair that stood a little taller than the rest. placing the razor down, you smoothed your hands over his head, stopping to grasp his face. “okay ’m done. you wanna see?” he nodded in your hands. spinning him around by his shoulders, you held your breath for his reaction.

he tilted his head side to side, assessing the trim, then met your nervous eyes in the mirror.

he startled you by pulling you around to his front, facing you to the mirror. “look at this. m’baby’s a professional.”

you giggled, nerves dissipating. “thank you, rafe”

he stood from the chair, peering down at you. “mm mm, this was on the house, right? and you got the cleanup?” he was suddenly serious.

“wha..?” you were taken aback by the question. “i mean sure.. you don’t have to do anything..”

rafe’s brow scrunched. “..baby, m’kidding.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: Happy Monday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You can’t hear your father’s voice anymore. You stand at your door, listening for any sign of life. It’s not him you want to avoid, though he’s rarely happy to see you, but his company. You’re pretty sure they left but not entirely. You feel asleep working on your diamond art. 

You can’t wait much longer. You have to pee so bad that you can feel it in your throat. It’s late. You’re sure you’re alone. 

The door hinges scrape like they always do. You hate that noise. You tiptoe down the hall, towards the yellow blare of the kitchen light. You turn into the bathroom and shut the door. You sigh as finally you get your release. 

You flinch as you stand up and pull your elastic waistband over your hips. The hollow metal tink of a metal can sounds from outside. It could be your dad. That would make sense. He probably got up to get water or another can of beer. 

You wash your hands and go back out. You head towards your bedroom without a look in the other direction. The grizzly pronunciation of your name draws you back. Your eyes round as you scuff to a halt. 

You turn to face the burly man at the end of the hall. “Did I wake you?” Sy asks. 

You gulp and shake your head. He’s one of your dad’s coworkers from the shop. He comes over with a six-pack and they sit on the porch to enjoy it. Or they linger in the kitchen and play cards. 

As the shadows shroud him, he looks even bigger than usual. You’ve only ever seen him from a distance. Usually he’s sitting down. Maybe you just never noticed how gigantic he truly is. 

He flips on the hallway light and you blink. His dark beard adds to the squareness of his jaw and his shaved head has dark stubble in a deep peak on his forehead. His blue eyes sparkle despite his naturally fearsome posture. 

“I just got your daddy to bed,” he says. “He should be just fine. You check that he’s on his belly tomorrow morning.” 

You nod again. He does the same. He doesn’t appear frustrated as your father. He seems almost intrigued as he stays there, scratching above the collar of his tee. 

“You okay?” 

You nod. 

“Checkin’, ya know? It’s late. Dark can be scary, huh?” 

Yes, your head bobs in agreement. 

“Right, well, you have a good night. Let me know if ya need anything in the morning. I put my number on the fridge.” He taps on the door frame and turns away. 

Most of your dad’s friends or the same. They don’t pay you much mind. You prefer that. You’re not one for chatting. That fact irks your father to no end. You just stay out of his way, and his friends’, and hide in your room. 

You wait until you hear the front door. Then you go to lock it as Sy’s footsteps clamour on the porch. You stay there, his headlights shining through the window as his engine rumbles to life. The gravel crunches as he reverses out and steers off into the night. 

You go around and shut off the lights. You take your time in the kitchen tidying up the beer cans. You wipe the counters quickly and rinses the dregs off your fingers. You leave the light on so you can find your door. 

You shut yourself in and go back to bed. You leave the small lamp on next to it and turn your back to the glow. You yawn and close your eyes. 

Another night. It’s a bit sad that the best part of your day is going to sleep. Your waking hours aren’t very interesting. When you’re not doing the chores or the cooking, you’re in there, busying yourself with something meaningless. Nothing you do will ever make a difference; not for you or anyone else. 

That’s why your dad hates you so much. You can’t blame him. There’s no jobs out there for someone like you. You tried and all you got for it was embarrassment and a new slew of insults. 

You cross your arms over the top of the blankets and sigh. When you lay in your bed, you can be anything. Behind your eyelids, you can’t paint pictures more gleaming than those etched in the small plastic diamonds. You could be a princess or an actress or even just someone normal. 

What keeps you awake, isn’t your dreams. It’s the dread of the inevitable. Once you fall asleep, you’ll have to wake up again and face bitter reality. 

🩶

Your dad’s snoring rocks you through the walls. The house is small. You hear a lot more than you like. Often, you leave the old Casio radio playing on low to gloss over the cricks and cracks and groans. 

You get up, knowing better than to wait until he does first. If you have the coffee waiting, it will appease a fraction of his temper. With a hangover racking his skull, he won’t be in the best of moods. 

The dead heat of summer roils through the house. Your dad has an AC unit in his bedroom window but it’s not big enough to do much beyond his door. He keeps that closed most days anyways. On the cold days, he also keeps the small electric heater locked away with him. 

You change into a pair of loose linen capris and a plain tank top. You don’t go anywhere so you don’t dress for any occasion. Most of your clothes are akin to pajamas, or nothing more than. 

The machine is old and dingy. No matter how many times you descale it, it keeps that yellow stain in the plastic. You snap the lid shut and flip the red button so it lights up. Dad says once it stops turning on, he’ll waste money on a new one. 

You get yourself a glass of water and wait. It’s early still but his alarm won’t let him sleep in. As it goes off, you keep busy.  

There’s a slam and a grumble. Your dad stirs violently and his door hits the frame as he swings it open. He lumbers out as you pour him a mug. He belches and ignores you. You put it on the table as he turns down the hall and goes into the bathroom. He leaves the door open and you hear his stream piddle into the toilet. 

You ignore it and turn back to your task. Breakfast. It’s the same thing every day. You do his eggs, sunny side up, toasted Wonder bread, and six strips of bacon. The smell soon has your mouth watering. The chair scrapes the floor loudly as he drops into it heavily. 

He slurps loudly behind you as you put together his plate. You set it before him and he wiggles the empty mug at you. You take it and pour him another from the carafe. 

A car door snaps shut. You wince. You didn’t hear an engine, but you’d been too swept up in cooking. You give your dad his refill and go to check the front window. 

“Is it that mailman already?” He hollers. 

You shake your head, even knowing that he won’t see.  

“Don’t know why I fucking ask,” he snarls. 

You watch Sy jump out of his truck. While the axle is high, it isn’t very treacherous for a man his size. He kicks up gravel as he steps around the door and shuts it. You back away as he heads towards the house. 

He clomps up the steps, thump, thump, thump, and you jitter as he approaches the other side of the door. You wait until he knocks before you answer it. You peek out through a single inch of space. He grins. You don’t think he’s ever smiled at you. You assumed he never did at all. 

“How’s the old man?” He asks. 

You blink and let the door open a bit more and give thumbs up. As good as he’ll ever be.  

“That’s good,” he drawls. “So...” 

His eyes drift down, just a little. You squirm. Your shirt feels thinner as you stand there. Your nipple poke into the fabric and you hug yourself awkwardly. You remember you asked your father for a bra once. He laughed and you never brought it up again. You try to stick to loose clothing. 

You point over your shoulder then make a gesture as if you’re holding a fork and scooping. 

“Having breakfast, that’s nice.” 

You don’t have enough for him. You’ll wait until your dad’s at work before you sit and have your single slice of toast and peanut butter. 

“I already ate, in case ya worried,” he assures. “Was just comin’ to make sure I didn’t give him too much sauce.” 

He laughs. His booming humour makes your flinch. Your brows pop up and he quiets. 

“Sorry, I know, I’m a loud one, huh?” He snorts, “I don’t mean ta scare ya.” 

“I told ya, she don’t say shit,” your father growls into a yawn. You step back and the door opens all the way as you press yourself to the wall. He saunters forward in his boxers and tank top. “No point goin’ on like that when she probably don’t even understand.” 

“She understands me,” Sy avows confidently. “After a night with your drunk ass, it’s a breath of fresh air to have someone not yammer on.” 

“You’re the one brought me the piss,” your father retorts. 

“And you didn’t complain when I did,” he counters. “Wanted to see if ya were going to make it in today. Just in case I gotta finish up Dubeau’s clunker.” 

“I’ll be there,” your father sneers. “Why don’t you go and get it all warmed up for me?” 

“You’re a prick, Don,” Sy huffs. 

“What? No, you can’t see it,” your father covers his crotch and you blanch, looking away embarrassed. 

“Don,” Sy rebukes, “there’s a lady.” 

“It’s my daughter, dammit. She’s too stupid to get it,” he spits. “Hey, you, go on, kitchen’s a mess.” 

You nod and avoid looking at the other man out of embarrassment. Your father is crass, sometimes even at your expense. And he knows you can understand him. He must. You do everything he tells you too. 

“Well, then, I’ll see ya round,” Sy calls, though you only realise he’s talking to you as your dad changes the subject to some tail pipe. 

You stop and peek back. Sy watches you over your dad’s head. You give a wave, just a tilt of your hand, then continue into the kitchen. 

You can’t help but be thankful for the interruption. Sy’s boisterous intrusion offered a buffer between you and your dad’s hangover. You wash his plate, cutlery, and mug, before you move onto the pots and pans you used to cook. 

You can hear your dad barking outside at Sy. The other man responds with a deep rumble. Are they arguing? 

The front door swings open, “hey, girl,” you dad whistles, “more coffee. Bring some for this lump.” 

You take the order in stride. You don’t have enough for two cups, maybe half of one. You start a new pot and wait. When it’s finished, you dry your dad’s mug and pull out another. You carry both to the front door and elbow through. 

You hand one to each man as they stand by the porch railing. Your dad takes his gruffly, spilling some on your fingers, but Sy thanks you. 

“You didn’t even ask if he wanted sugar or cream,” your dad chides. You give him a startled look. He snorts. “How’d ya do that, huh? Maybe blink your eyes real big.” 

You frown at his mocking. Sy exhales and you back away. Now you have two men annoyed with you. You glance over at the bigger of the pair as he stares at you. You should’ve thought of you. Coffee is bitter, it’s why you don’t drink it. 

You point to his cup and he shakes his head, “coffee’s fine,” he insists, “I’ll have something sweet later.” You nod and retreat. You turn your back to them and step inside. Before you close the door, you hear Sy, “you know I take my coffee black, Don. No needa to give the girl a hard time.” 

You shut it before you can catch whatever snide remark your father tosses back. You know he won’t take kindly to being told what to do, especially if it’s to do with you. Or because of you. You’ll hear it all later, you’re sure. 

[thanosscross]

HII I REALLY LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH, i hope your willing to write about pregnant reader x thanos yk, thanos didn't know she was pregnant before they break up and then they meet up again the games and he finds out player 222 and player 333 type stuff 😭

Of course! We love this!!

Good person - Choi Su- Bong x pregnant! reader

Summary: After leaving Thanos, you encounter him again in a serious death game, only this time the stakes are lot higher

Warnings: Not much, just your usual squid game gore

A/n: Sorry it's so short! I'm going to try and start adding some length to my stories again especially my Thanos stories so stay tuned for those longer stories, trust me they are coming, they're just takin a lil time

You had told yourself whenever you signed up, you'd be as careful as possible, and that it was all for your baby, after leaving their father and being disowned for choosing to be single mother, you were left with little to nothing, so of course you took the chance to get money.

As you woke up in the giant room you soon came to regret your decision, seeing your sperm donor just a few feet in front of you, focused on the screen reading off debts "Y/n L/n, 25 million won" The guard shouted, showing you getting smacked across the face, quickly holding an arm over your stomach afterwards. Almost like he knew, as soon as your name was called out, his head snapped to yours "Senorita! You're here!?" He shouted in shock "No Way!" He shouted as he walked closer, you attempted to curl your body up away from him, but due to the six month pregnancy belly, you could only bend your legs closer to you slightly.

"Please leave, Thanos" You grunted, trying your best to keep him at a distance, for all he knew you had taken a plan B after your last hook up and that was it. Instead he just kept approaching until he was standing in front of you "What're you doing here!?" He asked excited, you just shook your head "trying to get my family and I money after my sorry excuse of a boyfriend convinced me to buy stupid ass crypto?" You said like it was obvious, it wasn't like you were entirely lying, you just didn't specify what family.

Going into red light green light, you were cocky at first, knowing you could do this easy, until the shooting started, players falling left and right, while your baby dad just skipped and danced his way to you down the field "You never answered me, Senorita" He repeated, placing his hands on your hips, terrified of what he might do, especially after watching him shove other players to win "I-I'm pregnant" You blurted, you couldn't help it, between your fear of dying by Thanos or the game was too much, you just wanted to get out of this alive, you didn't think it'd be this serious, if you did, you never would've done this. "Haha" He laughed sarcastically before looking at your face as the doll called out red light, he was in front of you now, and you were visibly shaking, Thanos using his body to try and shield you from the sensors "for real, flower?" He asked, his tone a lot more deep and raspy, you could tell he sobered up quick upon the realization you weren't joking. "I-I forgot the pill after hooked up a few months ago! a-and I left because I knew you couldn't be a responsible dad" You blurted, unable to contain your emotions as the hormones in your body were on overdrive.

Thanos was frozen, staring at you in shock before finally snapping out of it as the doll called green light, he grabbed your arm holding you behind him as he followed the others past the red line "Just stay behind me" He whispered, your words stung, how could you be so sure of how he'd be as a dad if you never gave him a chance? As you made your way back to the giant main room, you took notice to Thanos's hand on your back leading you to the bed "Sit, you don't put yourself through too much" He explained softly, helping you over to your bunks before eyeing Nam-Gyu "Give her your bed, man" he demanded, his friend stuttering before giving up and giving you his bed that was floor level, him taking your third bunk bed. "Thanos" You warned, not wanting him to make it a huge deal "What?! You're huge! You don't need to be climbing!" He shouted before catching his tone, apologizing quietly "Okay, well One, that was very very rude, two, I can do whatever I please, if I feel like I can't do something, I'll tell you" You stated poking him in the chest with your finger, he just smirked at you, biting his bottom lip slightly "Have I ever told you, it's hot whenever you yell at me" he asked, trying his best to charm you, but instead you just flicked his forehead in annoyance "Get away, freak" You replied, he just smiled at you, sitting at the foot of your bunk "So it's my baby?" He asked smiling pointing to your stomach "Well, if not I'd be concerned" You said raising your eyebrows at him "Can I..touch it?.." He asked nervously "it's not an it, it's your daughter" you glared, before grabbing his hand slipping it under your jacket, pressing his finger down in just the right spot to get the small baby inside of you to move around "Woah..weird" He said grimacing as he pulled away in disgust "Really!?" You gasped in shock laughing loudly, somehow forgetting you were in a death game for a moment "Yea! You have a whole human inside of you! That's weird!" He laughed, resting his hand on yours "You put it there, Su-bong!" You argued, you swore sometimes you got with a completely dumbass.

"Y/n..If you'll let me...I wanna be there..I don't want to be like my dad" He frowned, squeezing your hand gently "Please?" He begged "I know I fucked up bad, but, I want to try again, please" He continued, you glared at him for a moment before sighing "How can I trust you? And you'll have to get clean, for real clean, not how you're usually clean" You added on, you just watched as he nodded his head, no faces or complaints "You're actually serious aren't you?..." you asked sweetly "I want to be a good person for you, y/n, please" He whispered, pressing his lips to your knuckles "I guess..but you only get one chance" You offered, he just nodded before flopping himself next to you "Thank you!" He cheered pressing multiple kisses all over your face as he chanted his thank you's, not realizing the next 18-19 years were going to be hell for the both of you.

The rest of the games, Thanos was always on you, making sure you didn't over do yourself or risk hurting yourself or your baby, charming you right back into his arms.

--

Taglist!!

@acehasmyheart

@corrdelia

@ag022123

[bonniepop]

“hey.”

you swivel your head, hair fanning around you. atsumu is standing to the entrance of the sparring grounds in just his shirt and trousers, and your mind betrays you by acknowledging his handsomeness. your face falls into a familiar scowl. “what do you want?”

he nods at the sabre as he walks closer, ignoring your animosity. “done with practice?”

“all my students refused to spar me,” you grumble, wiping at the sweat on your brow with the back of your hand. “cowards.”

“i’ll spar you,” he says then, eyes flitting to you.

your eyebrow hitches up. “you’re joking.”

“i may not be as good as my wife,” he says, moseying over to the sword rack. “but i can handle myself.”

you watch as he picks something relatively pliable, similar to the one you held in your hand. the word wife makes you bristle, and your nerves light up. “and if i kick your ass?”

he pauses briefly, and says, almost solemnly, “then i’ll deserve it.”

your eyes follow him as he walks to the center of the empty training arena. you walk, taking tentative steps closer until you were a duel’s distance away. brandishing your sword, you get into position, and atsumu mirrors you.

“widen your stance,” you tell him, and he looks down to adjust. you ensure that the next thing he sees is you charging at him.

there’s an unreasonable anger within you as he fluidly parries your attacks, because he’s a prince, of course he was trained in swordfighting, but the fact that this wouldn’t be an easy victory ticked you off.

he deserved to have his ass kicked.

he’s quick on his feet and has a long reach, so you find yourself dodging a few swings, but the second you see him flick his wrist in a move that looked like a retreat, you’re incensed. “are you going easy on me?”

you dart down and swing your leg, catching his ankles. he yelps as he falls, but he manages to roll away and get back up. you cry out, opting to hurl your sword at him.

he dodges, but it’s by crouching low, and you ram yourself at his torso. your shoulder hits his rib and he lets out a pained huff, but you make quick work of disarming him, sliding his sword in your grip as you push him unto his back and straddle his sides. you point the tip of the blade at his neck as the dust settles around you.

his brings his hands up to surrender. “okay, okay, i give up,” he breathes, a thin sheen of sweat shining on his forehead. “you win.” your chest heaves in time with his, and you lean back and toss the sword to the side.

when you get up, he pushes himself up by his elbows. “for the record,” he croaks as he cradles his side, “i didn’t let you win.” 

“you withdrew your blade,” you point out, collecting the fallen swords and putting them back.

“you were going so fast i didn't even know what i was doing,” his face crumples in effort as he stands up. “holy shit, you kicked my ass.”

“yeah, well,” you say, sheathing the sword so roughly that the rack rattles. “i’m mad.”

“i know,” he says, hobbling over to you. “look, i’m—”

“save it,” you say, raising your hand before walking away. “i’m not interested whatever you have to say.”

you can hear atsumu hobble after you. “i know, but—i’m sorry. i just... i’m sorry, okay? i fucked up.”

“yes." you don’t want to hear it, you just want to go and leave and hide somewhere you won't see his face, but your feet slow in their tracks.  "you did.”

“but i didn't do it."

you turn to him slowly and look at him straight in the eye. "didn't do what?"

"i didn't sleep with her," atsumu admits, coming closer. “i lied.”

your temper flares to an alarming degree that you force yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath. it calms you none. “why?” you demand when you open your eyes to glare at him. “we were doing so well, atsumu. we were finally making this farce of a marriage work, and then you go and—”

“because,” he interrupts angrily, “i want this to be a real marriage.”

the answer takes you by surprise, and the rest of your retaliation dies in your throat.

“when this first started out, i wasn’t under any illusion that this marriage would actually turn into the real thing,” he says, visibly annoyed. “you didn’t want me—hell, you didn’t even like me! you’ve made that very, very clear, and i got the picture. i was willing to just be the husband who didn't give a shit about his wife, just like damn near every fucker in this kingdom, but then i got to know you, and i—” it's as if his rising frustration hit a ceiling and evaporated into smoke. he sighs, defeated. “i wanted to get a reaction out of you.”

you huff. “why?”

“because—" he hesitates, "because after the banquet—"

your memory flashes quickly. the gentle of his hand on your lower back, the heat of his breath near your ear. it was pretend, you kept telling yourself that night, pretending that things were not the way they were, the agreement you'd both discussed that whatever ire had wedged itself between you two be forgotten in the face of neighboring kingdoms.

"—i wanted to know if things had changed.” his eyes meet yours. "that by any chance, that the—" he stops himself, but your memories are faster.

the feel of his lips, softer than you thought they'd be, warmer than they had any right to be, against the back of your hand, against your cheek, against your mouth. fast, fleeting.

wanting.

his eyes meet yours, as if hearing your memory. “if what we have has a chance at the real thing.”

your chest flares with warmth, but then a sharpness takes over when the night plays further in your head. him pulling away, flirting with another woman in plain sight; him, flashing you the most antagonistic sneer you've seen on his face as the ballroom thins and he escapes with a woman, making sure you've seen.

he hurt you then.

“you betrayed my trust,” you say, trying to control your voice, but it croaks pathetically. it’s a feeble excuse, even to you.

“i’m sorry,” he mutters sincerely, coming closer. “i'm sorry, i truly am. trust me. i—” he huffs, “i miss you.”

your throat tightens and you sniff.

“getting to know you," he continues, "even when you were a nightmare, was—was fun. sneaking around and playing games and making fun of people was fun. i actually… i grew to like you, because you’re not as bad as i thought you were, and at this point i’m hoping that you don’t think i was as bad as the asshole i made myself out to be in the beginning, and at the banquet. and i—” he swallows, “i’m hoping that, now that you know me… that this could be... that things could be different."

he groans and looks up at the ceiling. “god. what is happening to me.”

it’s such a juvenile reaction that it makes your lip twitch. “do you even know what you’re asking?” you ask, trying to school your expression. “what makes you think this will work?”

he tips his chin down to look at you. “we’ve survived this long, right?” he asks, coming closer. “what’s another eternity? besides,” he reaches forward to brush your hair back. “you’re not so bad.” 

you sniffle and he presses his forehead to yours, eyes closing. “i’m really sorry,” he whispers. “please forgive me.”

you swallow, wanting to respond with so many things, but instead, you say, “you’re not so bad either.” 

he pulls back in surprise, and the smile that takes over his face is blindingly bright.

[sweet-reaper]

Flowers - Pt 2

“Hey, good lookin’.” Gideon’s tone sounded very smug. It raised some alarms in the back of Kremy’s mind.

“Hi,” Kremy didn’t stop what he was doing, but he couldn’t keep his tail from flicking once.

“Gotchu somethin’.”

“You best not be naked when I turn around, Gid. Unless you like sleepin’ on the floor.”

Gideon chuckled. “Nah, that’ll be tomorrow's present.”

Kremy cocked his head just slightly. A present? He still didn’t move or say anything, but he let his tail swish back and forth just once, betraying a little excitement.

Three thumping steps as Gideon cleared the distance between them. He wrapped an arm across Kremy’s chest from behind, and put his face into his neck, inhaling deeply, rocking them back and forth a couple of times. Kremy let it happen. Well, really there wasn't much he could do about this.

Kremy’s present was still held behind his back. He ran his tail up the inside of Gideon’s calf but didn’t acknowledge him in any other way. He gave the large pot on the stove an unnecessary stir.

Gideon kissed his shoulder twice, then presented a massive bouquet of long stemmed black dahlias.

“Aw, cher! They’re beauuuutiful!” Kremy said, and they were. Such dark colours of burgundy and violet that they almost did look black. There were probably over a hundred of them.

He took the bouquet in both hands and turned to kiss Gideon. “Thank you so much. I love ’em.”

He moved towards the pantry to try and find a vase big enough for them all.

“Well?!?” Gideon demanded.

“Well, what?” Kremy echoed, his tone casual. “I already said ‘thank you’, Gid.”

“You know what I wanna know.”

“Ohhhhhhh. About the floooowers.” Kremy drew out the words, his tone teasing.

Gideon grunted. Kremy fussed with random glass jars for a second. “Like… if these are my favourite ones?”

“Uh huh.”

“Y’know Gid, I didn’t give you enough credit when you said you’d try and figure things out like this. How did you know black dahlias were my… second favourite flower.”

“I remembered from the weddin’—- wait. Second??!??” Gideon had started off excitedly but then trailed off as the rest of Kremy’s sentence hit.

“Yep. I love them almost as much as…” Kremy flickered an eyebrow up at Gideon.

Gideon narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, well, never you mind that now.” Kremy turned back to the cupboard.

Gideon groaned and stormed out of the kitchen, stomping petulantly up the stairs. Then… stomping petulantly back down the stairs.

“Are they at least the right colour??” he grumbled, hanging off the doorframe.

“D‘you want me to answer that? I can give you a hint if y’ need it.” Kremy gave him a genuinely warm and enamoured smile, just to piss him off. And because he couldn’t help himself.

Gideon slammed both hands on the top of the frame. He turned on his heel “No, I don’t need your god damned hints, Kremy! I’ll figure it out by my GODS DAMMED self.”

“Kay. Don’t go too far, dinner’s almost ready!”

Everyone sat down for dinner. Dahlias dominated the table, right in the middle. There was barely enough room for everyone’s plates and the side dishes Gideon was bringing over for Kremy. No one could really see each other's faces except for Frost, who sat at the head of the table, and Torbek who was massive.

“Soooooo... Kremy.” Gricko raised his eyebrows, standing up on his chair to try and see him over the bouquet. He was still too short. “Did you… like the flowers?”

“Yes, of course! They’re beautiful.” Kremy responded.

“But like… did you REAAAAALYYYY like them???” Gricko wheedled.

“No. He doesn’t. He hates ‘em.” Gideon growled under his breath. Then he spoke more clearly. “He doesn’t like them at all. Told me himself. Said ‘those are stupid and ugly, just like you, Gid,’ he said. Can you believe this guy???”

Kremy tutted. “I said no such thing Gideon! You’re so dramatic. I said I love ’em! They are my second favourite flower! And it was mighty nice that you remembered.”

Gricko and Torbek groaned.

“Second?? That’s cold, Kremy. Stone cold!” Gricko said with a shiver.

“Tooooooorbeeeek can’t believe it! What could Mr. Kremy poooooosssibly like better than a black flower that kills yooooou?” Torbek said forlornly.

Frost was drumming his claws on the table. “No, no. That is alright, Torbek. That was not the correct one. But we are on the right track. I feel it.”

“Wow, Gid. You really got the top minds in the country workin’ on this one—” Kremy started.

“You shut your goddamn mouth, Kremy!” Gideon slammed a fist on the table, cutting across him. “I’ll—”

Kremy continued, raising his voice to speak over top of him. “Thought you were gonna figure it out y’self. Got a real crack team there, Gid! I hope it helps.”

Gideon kept going too, pointing an accusing finger at Kremy. “You shut the hell up! Y’old lizard. Ungrateful piece of… I’m gonna make you into a suitcase one of these days, mark my words.”

Frost and Torbek were speaking too, while Gricko turned his head back and forth like their argument was a tennis match.

“No, Torbek, we already tried all the purple ones. We have to think outside the box. Expand our miiiiinds.” Frost said, pressing his index fingers together in front of him, and looking thoughtful.

“Can Tooorbek see the list again? There’s gotta be someeeeething we’re miiiiiisssssing.” The Bugbear said plaintively.

Kremy smiled. This was turning out a lot more fun than he thought it would be.

Read Flowers pt 1 Here

_________

Excerpt from a future chapter of "What Lies Between Us," my in-process smutty little Coal-Lecroux Fanfic.

Read it here, or read the completed first one here

[thewizardingpost]

Never a Burden 

poly!marauders x fem!reader 

summary ⤑ you get caught making out with James in the hallway causing you to face a punishment from the new headmaster. when the punishment turns out to be one that scars words into your skin after writing them down on paper–you try to hide it from the guys so as to not concern them.  warnings ⤑ 1.3k, suggestive (making out), established relationship, hurt/comfort, injury (r sustaining, tw blood), this is based off of Umbridge’s punishments for the students in Harry Potter’s time, this is my post (I just got a new account)

You’ve had a knack of getting in trouble. It’s unavoidable when you date three of the known pranksters at Hogwarts–not to mention it's worse when you’re the one initiating ideas. And somehow, even after the series of ones that you’ve done, you’ve never been in detention. It didn’t make much sense to you, but you never questioned it. You were happy with your clean track record–that soon or later got busted when the new headmaster came in.

You didn’t care too much about said news until her new rules came to affect you. You learned fast that her new rules were stricter and a whole lot less fun to deal with. 

There really wasn’t any reason why James had your bodies so close together in public like this. It wasn’t necessarily a rarity–you’ve shared moments in public similar to this–but you’ve never had it escalate to this point. He’s been kissing you breathless, lips back on yours just seconds after moving to breathe. His hands were resting on your waist, yours on his face–pulling his face closer to deepen said kiss. 

“Oh no, no, no,” an airy voice says, voice getting louder as she moves closer, “this will not do.”

The both of you are dragged away from one another, your back hitting a wall that was a few feet behind you. You looked to her, the new headmaster, and already began to wish for her leave. She had her wand stuck up like a priss, beady eyes motioning between the two of you. 

“Who initiated this downright outrageous act,” she asks, humming at the end when neither of you answer quick enough. 

James’ mouth had moved like he was going to answer but it froze when he heard you. 

“Me. I did, headmaster.” 

         “Mm, that's so. Come with me to my office, dear, you’ll be facing detention,” she says, giving James a look when he starts to defend you, “anyone else who wishes to do the same as these two, or question my motives, will also face detention.”

While following her to the office you mouthed at James, telling him you’ll be alright. Based on how the boys described it, you’ll just be sitting in silence for an hour–which is nothing to be afraid or concerned over. 

She opens the door to her office, pointing at a seat nearby. A desk sat in front, empty until she placed a pen and paper in front of you. 

“I want you to write down, ‘I will keep my distance.”

        “How many times?”

“Well let’s see. However many times it takes for the message to sink in?”

         “You haven’t given me any ink?”

“Oh, you won’t need any, dear.”

You almost roll your eyes, hand angling on the paper to begin writing out the suggested phrase. After a few words your hand began to itch, tingling and burning. Once the ‘e’ had finished drying on the paper, you gasped when you looked over to your hand to find the phrase etched into your skin. It burnt like hell, slight blood trickling out from the corner. You learned to not dig hard into the paper then. You tried to write softly, ink barely showing on the paper as it would help to not dig so deep into your skin in search of ink. After four you felt like crying, tears forming in your eyes and making it hard to see. She had noticed, putting the pen down and saying that it seems like you’ve learned your lesson before sending you out. 

You turned to the closest bathroom, running the cold water over your injury. Tears fell down your face as the blood mixed with the water, turning it red until it got washed out. There wasn’t a sure way of keeping this to yourself, but you wanted to try. The boys, and especially James, didn’t need to know the events that transpired. It’ll only concern them. You didn’t want to give them another thing to worry about, feeling like you’ve used up too many of those ‘worry over me’ cards this week. If the wounds worsen or if you’re able to go a few days–then you’ll tell them. 

Then it’ll be good enough of a reason to ‘burden them’ again. 

“Sweetheart,” James exclaims when he finds you outside of his dorm room, moving aside to let you in. 

          Sirius presses a kiss to your head when you come to sit by him, “how was your first time in detention, gorgeous.” 

You clenched your fingers over the fresh wounds, “it was fine, boring. I see why you all hate it.” 

They moved from it–something you wanted to happen–so why did it upset you? You want to keep it from them, you’ve already burdened them enough this week, they don’t need another moment where the focus is on you. 

You had stressed over a test recently, confiding in them about it. You fretted over your owl when he didn’t return around his usual timing, again confiding in them about it. You lost an item in their room, and they helped you search for it. You’ve done enough. 

“Dove,” Remus calls, walking towards you, “what’s that on your arm?” 

        “Paint,” you lie, but it came too sudden–and you were never good at lying to them.

He huffs, smiling at you, “still a terrible liar. Did you hurt yourself?”

You look over at Sirius immediately and by the look on your face, everyone knows the look to him first was intentional. He sits up, “Why’re you giving me that look?”

          “Don’t get mad.”

“What happened,” he demands, looking over at your shirt that’s discoloring more with each minute. 

          “The headmaster today gave a rather unruly punishment.”

That’s all you explain before pushing your sleeve down with reluctant energy. Remus holds under your wrist, thumb affectionately rubbing the non-wounded skin as he looks over the injury. James had gotten up from his space, moving to get a glimpse as well. 

“From now on, I’ll go if she ever calls us to her office again,” he claims, earning a look from everyone after.

        “That will not be happening,” Remus whispers, moving the two of you towards his bed so he can officially clean out the wound with items inside of his drawer.

“And why not? I agree with James. If something happens, I’ll take the blame,” Sirius proposes. 

        “Because we’ll find a way around her. We don’t need to be obvious buffoons,” you wince when Remus wraps just a bit too tight in one area. He apologizes sweetly to you before continuing, “While we’re at it we can send a letter to the rightful headmaster, let him know what’s going on because this is appalling.”

You know the two agree when they move on with the conversation. 

“Love,” James looks to you, “why were you trying to keep this a secret?” 

        “I felt as if I've burdened you all enough this week, and didn't want to overwhelm you.”

“That’s highly unlikely to ever happen. Do you even remember all of the times I’ve asked for help this week?” 

Sirius snorts at his remark, and James chooses to ignore it for now. 

“Don’t ever think that giving us an opportunity to love and support you will turn into an event where you believe you’ll drive us away. You’re not a burden.”

      “But we are,” Sirius says, standing up from the couch, “well we will be after we scare this headmaster back to where she came from because who the fuck uses a cursed pen for a punishment. All you were doing was making out.”

“Be nice Padfoot, maybe she got caught and wanted to recreate that scene to make herself feel better,” James comments, smiling when he hears you laugh. 

[fanwarriorfictions]

Help Me, Help You - Part Fourteen

Fenrys x f!Reader

Summary- Fenrys and Y/n take some time to themselves and cross a pivotal line in their relationship

Warnings- Possessive Fenrys, spice and smut(oral f! receiving), angst, there is conversation of Fenrys’s SA trauma, not to detailed, everyone’s healing journey is different and this may not be an accurate portrayal of how one may deal with trauma like his

Series Masterlist

Part Fourteen

      Y/n is sitting on the edge of the small bed, braiding her freshly washed hair when Fenrys finally returns. His eyes narrow in on her, on where she’s sitting, instantly, and they’re dark with that emotion she’s come to recognize as need. 

   Her body heats at the memory of his hands on her hips, on her thighs. The way he’d held her there, looking up at her like she was the moon in the sky. She could still feel that kiss he’d pressed to her shoulder, the way she’d had to force herself not to tilt her head and expose her sensitive neck to him. 

   “What took you so long?” She ignores the slight breathy tone to her voice, “Did you have to cook the poor thing yourself?”

   Fenrys chuckles and shakes his head, crossing the distance between them, “Your brother wanted to have a little chat.”

   Like a bucket of cold water dumped over her head, all the heat drains from her body. She hadn’t forgotten, the way Vaughan had held her heart in his hand and tore it apart with three words, no I wasn’t. She’d simply let herself be distracted by Fenrys and the way he could ignite her blood with a simple touch. 

   “What did he say?”

   Fenrys sits beside her, settling their plates between them. Her stomach grumbles at the smell of the spiced meat. 

   “Eat,” Fenrys says, picking up his own plate. 

   A different sort of heat lights in her veins at the order, similar to the first days of their journey, annoyance and a flash of anger.

   “What did he say,” she says, not a question anymore, a demand. 

   He looks at her, a small grin forming on his lips at the expression on her face, “I like it when you’re angry, kitten.”

   Fenrys turns to his food, tearing a large piece of meat off the bone, shoving it into his mouth. He groans at the taste, and Y/n vehemently ignores the way that makes her feel. 

   She swipes his plate from his hands, setting it on the small table beside the bed. Fenrys shouts in protest but his eyes are lit with humor and mischief. 

   “You can have that back when you tell me what my brother said,” she snaps, putting her own plate beside his so he doesn’t just steal it. 

   She shifts, sitting on the bed with her legs tucked beneath her so that she’s completely facing the male. Y/n waves him on, giving him a hard look that promises hell if he doesn’t start talking. 

   Fenrys sighs, “Oh you know, big brother stuff, stay away from my sister or I’ll kill you. Or something like that, I didn’t stay for long. I told him I had much better stuff to do with you waiting in my bed.”

   “You did not,” Y/n hisses, slapping his chest when he laughs, “Fenrys he’s going to think that we’re-“

   The words catch in her throat imagining all the things they could be doing in this bed and he winks at her when her face flushes. He made it sound like she’d be here naked, waiting for him, aching for him. Somehow it wasn’t far from the truth.

   He captures her hand as it comes back down for another blow, holding it firmly to his chest, “Let him think whatever he wants, kitten.”

   “Fenrys you don’t understand,” Y/n groans, trying and failing to pull her hand away, “He nearly killed the first male I’d been with.”

   His grip on her tightens in response, keeping her hand pressed against him, “First, I can handle your brother if he’s dumb enough to attack me. Second, is that male still breathing?”

   Y/n raises a brow at him, “What?”

   “Is he the one who stole your first kiss?”

   Stole, as if that kiss didn’t belong to the nameless male she hadn’t seen since her brother had ran him out of town. Vaughan had beaten the blacksmith near death, making him vow to never speak of her to anyone ever again. Part of that had been because he was her brother and he was insanely overprotective, and part had been because the male was a demi-fae capable of earning passage into Doranelle.

   “He didn’t steal anything,” she snaps, tugging once again at her hand that he refuses to let go, “I let him-“

   Fenrys lets out a near animalistic growl, cutting her off, “I wish your brother had killed him.”

   There’s a familiar expression on his face, she’d seen it when she’d told him of her first kiss and back in Antica. Jealous, it hits her then, Fenrys was gods damned jealous of the blacksmith like he had been of Kashin.

   “Gods you insufferable male.” Again, she pulls at her hand, again he keeps it pinned to the muscle above his heart. “You’re seriously jealous of a male I slept with nearly a century ago.”

   His growl vibrates through her, and there’s a small, dangerous voice in her head that tells her to push him. She’d ignored it the last time, when she’d felt him hard beneath her, held back by their companions sleeping only a few feet away from them. This time, she pushed. 

   “Is your ego so easily bruised?” Instead of pulling on the hand he has trapped, she shoves, finding him to be an immovable piece of stone. “First Kashin, now this. The mere idea of someone bringing me pleasure, of touching me, of fucking-“

     Suddenly he’s no longer holding her hand to his chest, but tugging her whole body against him. Fenrys moves her so fast, as if he’d used his power to rip her through time and space to place her on his lap, her thighs straddling his own. His hands are on her waist, holding her in place against him.

   “Do not finish that sentence,” he warns.

   “Does it really bother you so much?” Y/n tries to keep herself in check, to not lose this battle of wills, “That someone kissed me before you? That the same male fucked me before you?”

   His mouth collides with hers, no gentleness, only raging passion. They move against each other, both desperate to win this battle. His sharp canine drags over her bottom lip, biting down just hard enough to make her gasp, and then he’s trailing his lips across her jaw and down the side of her neck. She doesn’t fight it this time, tilting her head back, exposing the entire expanse of her neck to him. She is completely vulnerable like this, he could easily tear her throat out with his teeth, yet he only worships her with his mouth. 

   “Yes,” he says against her skin, kissing the spot on her neck that has her seeing stars, “It bothers me a lot that another male has had you like this, it shouldn’t but it does.”

   She wants to tell him that no one has ever had her like this, had her like he does, panting and writhing with need. The blacksmith had satisfied her, had quelled that ache, but it’d been nothing more. This, with Fenrys, was so much more than pleasure. But she can’t say anything, can’t draw out the words past the sighs and moans falling past her lips.

   “It bothers me,” Fenrys continues, paying that spot on her neck extra attention between words, “That I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything else, that I crave you every hour of the day, that I want to touch you and please you despite everything that has been done to me.”

   She can feel it, that last bit of darkness he’d yet to explore with her, the one that sat beneath his remaining scar, much deeper than anything else. Y/n wants to pull away, to give him the full attention he deserves, but Fenrys doesn’t let her. She can feel the sharpness of his teeth as he closes his mouth around her pulse point, drawing a whine from her as he just barely bites down, not enough to make her bleed, but enough to make her moan his name.

   He pulls away with a groan, just far enough that he can look her in the eye as he says, “It bothers me that I am scared, scared that I won’t be able to give you what you need, what you deserve, scared that I am not ready after everything she did, what she forced me to do.”

   It hits her like a sword through her gut, “Fenrys-“

   He shakes his head, lifting a hand to her cheek, “I haven’t wanted this, to touch anyone like this, not after her. And then you found me, and those eyes saw everything I am and you didn’t shy away from all the broken and bleeding parts of me. I haven’t wanted anyone the way I want you, haven’t felt that raging jealousy for anyone the way I do when your arm is around a prince’s instead of my own. So yeah, the idea of a male fucking you drives me crazy.”

   He’s back at her neck, his hands tracing over her hips and her thighs and her back and it’s all so overwhelming.

   “Fen-“ She’s gasping his name, unable to do much else but hold onto him, “I- gods.”

   “What do you need, kitten.” He pulls back to look at her again, “Tell me what you need.”

   Gods what did she need? She needs him to stop teasing her, needs to feel his skin beneath her palms and not covered by his layers of leathers, she needs him more than anything and she can’t think, can’t breathe.

   “I- slow down,” she gasps.

   He stops instantly, his hands settling on her sides, a light gentle pressure that keeps her just on the edge of dizziness. Fenrys watches her with furrowed brows and she can tell it is taking a lot of his self control to keep from moving against her. He waits for her to speak and it takes her several breaths before she can even think coherently.

   “You don’t have to,” she finally says.

   “I want to,” he groans, his hands tightening on her waist.

   She reaches for his face, cradling him between her palms, “You don’t have to, if you’re not ready.”

   Y/n trails a finger over the scar above his brow, her power begging to be let out, to take that final piece of it, to heal him. But she could only take the surface level of the pain, not the darkness beneath it. The darkness she now knew, the darkness Maeve had caused. She didn’t need to know the details to know what he had been forced to do for the queen, she could connect the dots easily.

   “Please,” he whispers, letting his head fall to rest against hers, “I won’t let her take everything from me.”

   Y/n whispers, “She won’t, she can’t.”

   “I want to,” Fenrys says, his hand on her side gripping her shirt, “I want to be worthy of you.”

   She leans into him, feeling every desperate desire they held for each other, as if she could feel his right there besides hers. Y/n lifts his face to her own, kissing him, pouring every ounce of emotion into their lips until she is panting and aching.

   “You have me,” she gasps against him.

   And its like a damn is broken within him, the hands gripping her shirt pull, wrenching the fabric up her torso, exposing her skin to the chilled air around them. And she barely has the time to gasp his name before his mouth is on her, exploring her skin with his tongue and teeth, over her collarbone, down the valley of her breast. His hands exploring every inch of her, and if she thought it had felt good before, it is even better without cloth between his palms and her feverish skin. 

   She is practically purring when his mouth finally ghosts over her breast, and she cries out when his lips close over the sensitive peak, his tongue swirling around her nipple. Her hips move of their own volition, grinding down on his lap where she can feel the hard length of him pressed against her core. Fenrys groans and the vibration is nearly too much.

   “Fenrys please.” She has no idea what she’s begging for, whatever he’s willing to give her, “Gods please.”

   He knows what she needs, like he could read her mind and decipher the muddled mess of her brain. Fenrys shifts, lifting her with him effortlessly, turning to lay her back down on the small mattress and then he is kissing down her body leaving her writhing and moaning. And when he finds the seam of her pants, his hands are instantly tugging the material down her thighs, her panties with it, leaving her completely bare to him.

   “Fuck,” he groans, sitting back to just look at her, his onyx eyes so impossibly dark, “You’re so perfect.”

   Having his gaze on her, so heavy, while he was still completely clothed, had her trying to cover herself. Again, as if he understands exactly what she is feeling, his hands work open the laces of his flight leathers, tearing the material over his head, the undershirt with it. Y/n marvels at the golden brown expanse of his skin, the rigid muscle beneath. Yes she’d appreciated him shirtless before, but not like this. She reaches between them and her fingers trace each hard line of him, all the way down to the waistline of his leathers, pulling helplessly at the laces, wanting to see the length of him that is straining in the material.

   “So needy,” he laughs, taking her hands and guiding them to her sides, “I have other plans for you.”

   “Please,” she gasps, straining against his hands restraining her own, “I want to touch you.”

   “You will,” he says, and there’s an edge to his tone like he wants to give into her, “I’ve been imagining this for to long now, I’m going to take my time with you.”

   The ache between her thighs is nearly painful at that point and she doesn’t care what he does as long as he touches her there. Her body moves on its own, her legs falling open as she stares up at him, waiting to see his reaction to her vulnerability. The way his eyes fall to her center, drinking her in, almost has her coming undone right then without him even touching her.

   “Beautiful, kitten,” Fenrys says, his voice low and breathy, “So fucking beautiful.”

   He leans down to press his lips against her naval, trailing those fiery kisses further and further down, going right past where she wants him to the soft skin of her thigh. Her hips chase him and he pins her beneath a single strong arm, his other pushing her thighs further apart so he can settle between them, his mouth so close to her that she can feel each heavy breath leave his lips. She’s on fire, burning so hot as if she were a living flame stoked to life by him, and when he finally leans in, tasting her for the first time, she nearly combusts.

   “Fenrys,” she gasps, her hands finding the golden strands of his hair, needing to hold onto something to keep her from falling into oblivion.

   He is lost in her, groaning as he licks her from her entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves above. Fenrys closes his lips around her and it’s the most intense wave of pleasure she has ever felt. Not even her own fingers had felt like this, he knows exactly how to press his tongue against her to draw out the moans and screams that surely leak through the door and into the aerie beyond. She doesn’t care who hears her, she can’t think of anything beyond him.

   Each stroke of his tongue brings her closer and closer to the peak of her pleasure. Her hands grip his hair, pulling as if she could get him closer, have more of him, and he groans against her, the feeling is so intense that she does it again. The hand on her leg comes between them and she cries out when his fingers swipe through her arousal, she screams when a single finger dips into her and curls against a spot inside of her she hadn’t even known about.

   “Fuck,” she cries out, feeling herself go higher and higher, so close to that breaking point, “Please, gods, I’m so- fuck.”

   She can’t form the words to tell him but he knows, can feel her tightening around him, every muscle in her body going taut in desperation. Fenrys is relentless in his pace, his mouth and his fingers expertly working her until it snaps, that coil in her belly releasing in a brilliant wave of pleasure. Y/n cries his name as she falls from that peak, her body writhing and shaking with the power of it, and Fenrys is right there to catch her, letting her ride out each aftershock until she falls completely limp beneath him. Only then does he pull away, looking up at her with dark onyx eyes full of pride and desire, his lips shining as they pull up into a satisfied grin.

   “You taste better than I’d dreamed,” Fenrys says, and her core tightens when he licks his lips, as if she had been a grand feast gifted to a starving male.

   Y/n can barely draw words to her lips, “You’ve dreamed of me?”

   Fenrys nods, crawling over her whispering the words against her lips, “I’ve been dreaming of you since that first night in Antica, dreaming of you in that little towel, dreaming of licking the beads of water off of your thighs.”

   Despite her exhaustion, the words have her clenching her thighs to relieve some of the ache. Fenrys captures her lips in a slow sensual kiss, she can taste herself on his tongue and she moans into his mouth. He takes the sound greedily like he can’t get enough of her, she knows because she feels the same. She needs all of him, her still shaking legs wrap around is hips, pulling so his weight settles on top of her and she can feel him against her core, still covered by his flight leathers.

   “Take them off,” she orders.

   Fenrys chuckles against her lips, but he doesn’t argue. He shifts back, her legs falling apart to let him, and he sits on his heels. Fenrys watches her as he slowly tackles the laces, pulling them apart one by one until she is whining, begging him to hurry up before she loses her mind and rips the material off of him.

   And just when she thinks he is going to put her out of her misery, someone is pounding on their door, hard enough that she thinks the wood may shatter beneath their fist.

   Fenrys growls at the noise, taking the blanket from the bed to cover her. And the answering growl on the other side of the door has her completely frozen in place, clutching the fabric to her chest.

   “You have five seconds to remove yourself from my sister, Moonbeam,” Vaughan shouts through the door, “And then I am going to kill you.”

Tag list -

@emma-andrea1 @mgchaser @anxious-study @lees-chaotic-brain @girl-math-aint-mathing @mali22 @nikt-wazny-y @theworthlessqueen @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @lethargicluv @hannzoaks @batboygirlie @foxysouls @kiarathace @jesskidding3 @raginghellfire 

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Butterflies! Kate Is Alive AU Part Two!

Butterflies!

Riley sat there, rather stunned. Despite everything Kate knew, it did not do more than confirm what Riley had already suspected. The information was interesting, for sure, but it didn’t lead them any closer to their goal. Then again, if it would then Kate wouldn’t have given up. I suppose. Riley thought to themself.

“Look, there are some tapes scattered around this room if you want to watch them…” Kate sighed.

“Are you going to stick around to watch them with me?” 

“No… I’ve already watched them all… over and over… you know that, I gave you my notes. But I suppose two eyes are better than one. Let me know if you catch something I guess…” she turned to leave. Riley had never heard her sound so drained before. “Wait! Amanda has been talking about you! She says she misses you, and wants to talk to you again! Please, just this once, will you watch a tape with me?” 

“Fine. But afterwards I really do have to go.” She pulled a tape out of a bug catching net and handed it to Riley, who put it in the VCR. 

The tape begins with Amanda coming out of a store, silently staring at an at-home butterfly habitat for kids. She seems content. There are little caterpillars crawling around inside.

“Don’t worry little guys… you’re safe. I’m going to take care of you…” She says gently in a soft, caring tone. The tape changes to Amanda’s living room, where she carefully carries the habitat into the room and places it on the couch. Wooly is already there.

“Whatcha got there Amanda?” he asks. 

“For today’s episode, we’re raising butterflies, remember?” 

“I think we did that in elementary school a long time ago…” Wooly remincises, “It was fun! Until all the butterflies… died for some reason. Hmm…”

“Well there is absolutely no way these ones are dying on my watch!” Amanda announces. She realizes that the episode has started already. “Oh, hi there! Didn’t notice you for a second, sorry. I’m Amanda!” she beams. There is an awkward pause, like Amanda is waiting for something, but Wooly seems to be staring into the distance, deep in thought. “I’m Amanda.” she repeats, but gets no response. “Whatever.” She scoffs and looks around for somewhere to put the habitat. She sees the lamp on the table and a devilish grin forms on her face. 

“Gee, I wish we had a TABLE to put this habitat on!” she says, looking at the screen smugly. Riley taps on the lamp. She grins mischievously, and walks over to the lamp. She shoves it off the table causing it to break and make a super loud crashing sound on the floor.

“Huh?! What are you doing?!” Wooly gasps. “You’re going to scare the caterpillars!” Amanda panics and looks at her caterpillars. 

“Shh… shh… it’s okay little fellas you’re absolutely safe here.” Amanda says softly. Wooly rolls his eyes, then he glances at the screen. He seems surprised, then a little annoyed. 

“Oh… the episode has started already?” 

“Yeah Wooly.” Amanda scoffs. She looks at the screen again and does a double take. Her eyes widen and tears start to form “No… no way… it can’t be…” her voice cracks, “Ka-” 

“Don’t say my name! They’ll hear you!” Kate snaps. Amanda flinches a bit, Riley does too. It is very unlike Kate to speak in such a harsh tone. She seems… scared. 

“You’re alive…” Amanda cries, “I can’t believe you’re alive.” 

“Yeah Amanda… I’m alive…” Kate sighed, sounding completely exhausted. Amanda’s smile fades a bit. 

“Today we’re raising caterpillars into butterflies! These ones are called Monarchs!” Amanda beams, “Oh… but I guess you already know that huh? Heh heh.” She laughs nervously. 

“Say, why don’t you help us!” Wooly suggests.  

“Yeah! See…” Amanda pulls out a diagram, “Butterflies start out as eggs… then they become caterpillars… then they turn into a chrysalis and then into a butterfly!” 

“Ooh! Ooh! What do they turn into after that?” Wooly asks eagerly. Amanda gives him a weird look, as this is a very strange question. 

“They die, Wooly. You know that.” 

“O-Oh… that’s… really sad.” 

“Not really, that’s just the cycle of life isn’t it? Honestly I think they’re kind of lucky, they get to fly south for the winter. I bet they see all kinds of different places.” 

“Mmm… I don’t know… I feel like there could be dangers along the way. I mean, not every butterfly makes it right?” Wooly says. Amanda ignores him.

“We have to help these caterpillars grow into butterflies! Do you remember the cycle I showed you before?” She asks. “I'll start us off, the eggs have already hatched into caterpillars, so what comes next?” A voice prompt shows up on the screen. 

“Shoe.” Riley replied. Amanda giggles a little bit.

“What the?” Wooly mumbles looking completely confused. “That's not right.”

“Yeah I know Wooly.” Amanda grumbles. “Come on, try again.” the voice prompt appears again.

“Grasshopper.” Riley said with a mischievous grin. Amanda looks kind of mad now. 

“Come on, didn't you learn this in grade school?!” Amanda snaps.

“Maybe they failed grade school…” Wooly comments. Wow Wooly, rude. Kate paused the tape.

“Riley what are you doing?!” She hissed.

“Pissing them off on purpose.” Riley shrugged. 

“Why?!”

“Dunno, they reveal more information when you do that I guess.”

“Really…” Kate sounded intrigued. She walked over and unpaused the tv. 

“Alright.” Amanda takes a deep breath, “let's try this again. After the egg hatches into the caterpillar, what happens?” the voice prompt appears once more.

“Frog.” Kate answered. Riley started cracking up. Amanda's jaw drops. 

“Riley! You are SUCH a bad influence!” Wooly groans in frustration. Now everyone is staring at him with surprise. “Wh-whoa… what'd I do?”

“I've never heard Wooly… ever refer to a viewer by name before.” Kate mumbled, tapping her chin with interest. 

“Me neither.” Riley said.

“Wooly… you just called Riley by their name.” Amanda points out. He immediately covers his mouth, looking incredibly freaked out for some reason. “Frog… Grasshopper… SHOE what kind of answers even ARE those?!” Amanda shouts in annoyance, “The answer is-”

“Chrysalis!” Wooly shouts out suddenly. 

“That's right. Chrysalis.” Amanda says, unenthusiastically. The caterpillars crawl up and begin to weave their chrysalises. 

“Ha! Yessss!” Wooly appears quite proud of himself. Amanda rolls her eyes. 

“Alright and out form the chrysalis emerges a…” the voice prompt appears again. 

“Dragonfly!” Riley calls out. This time Amanda is not amused.

“Do you think this is funny?” Amanda says, her right eye twitching a bit. 

“You seemed to think it was before.” Wooly points out.

“It's not funny anymore! It hasn't been for a long time!” she shouts, stamping her foot. Red glitches cover the screen. “I'm so sick of all of this!”

“Amanda, don't say that!” Wooly says worriedly looking at the screen.

“DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!” Amanda screams in his face, Wooly puts his hands up defensively, “I hate this place! I hate you!” Wooly suddenly looks very hurt. The tape glitches red again. Amanda starts to morph into her demon form. Wooly backs away slowly. This time it feels a lot more eerie. Like Amanda is completely in control, she almost seems calm. Too calm. “What are you so afraid of, huh?!” She says calmly, almost too calmly.  

“I- um… I… I…Whoa!” Wooly trips onto his butt and freezes up. “I'm no-not afraid!” he says defensively, Amanda looms over him. “Yo-you don't know anything!” tears start welling up in his eyes. Amanda looks disappointed, she returns back to normal and turns back to the screen with a fake smile on her face. 

“When the caterpillar emerges from the chrysalis what does it become?” She asks with an eerie cheerfulness. The voice prompt appears once more. 

“Butterfly.” Kate said quickly. There is a long pause before Amanda says anything. She just stares at them for a long time with a creepy smile. 

“Amanda?” Wooly mumbles.

“That's right!” She beams, “A butterfly!” The tape glitches and they hear the brief sound of Amanda screaming but it's glitched out. She returns to a smiling state once again. Wooly looks seriously disturbed. 

“Amanda, are you feeling okay?”

“Never--- better Wooly, why?” Amanda smiles. Wooly looks unconvinced. The tape glitches again, Wooly looks startled.

“That's right!” Amanda beams, “A butterfly!” Just then, the butterflies all came out of their chrysalises. “Look! Our butterflies are all grown up now!” 

“Oooooh… they're so pretty.” Wooly grins, he leans on the couch's arm, watching them happily. Amanda sits on the floor and watches them as well.

“Now that they're all grown up, we get to do my favorite part!” Amanda says excitedly. 

“Hm? And what's that?” Wooly asks, also getting a little excited. Amanda picks up the habitat. The tape glitches and suddenly they are in the backyard. Now Wooly looks nervous. “So… what are we doing Amanda?” 

“Letting them go!” Amanda cheers. 

“What?! NO!!!” Wooly shouts, the tape glitches. He snatches the habitat from her and hugs it protectively. “These are our friends! We didn't even get to have them that long!” 

“But they deserve to be free!” Amanda argues. Wooly looks like he's about to argue back but then the tape glitches. He looks down at the habitat sadly. The sparkle in his eyes goes dim. 

“I… guess you're right…” he sighs, handing the habitat gently to Amanda, who looks at him with confusion and a bit of concern. Just then, the opossum shows up. 

“Oh um, hi there opossum!” Amanda says awkwardly. “Look at these butterflies we raised, pretty right?” The opossum runs up to her and starts trying to grab at the habitat. “Wha? No! You can't have this!” She snaps, pulling it away from him. He snatches it from her. 

“He's gonna hurt the butterflies! Do something!” Wooly shouts.

“What do we do?” Kate asked. Riley taps their finger on the VCR screen. The opossum clearly notices them, he stops for a moment, then glares at Riley directly in the eye and drops the habitat on the ground.

“No!” Amanda and Wooly shout. They wait a moment, the opossum does nothing.

“Wait… they look… fine…” Amanda says, sounding relieved. 

“Now we just need to carefully take them back inside where they’re safe…” Wooly whispers. The opossum glares at them and opens the door to the habitat. All the butterflies fly out of it.  

“No! No! NO! Come back!” Wooly cries out, trying to reach for them, but Amanda watches in awe.

“Isn't it beautiful?” Amanda smiles. 

“Beautiful?!” Wooly says angrily, “th-they’re gone! We lost them!”

“Wooly… they can’t stay with us forever…” Amanda says gently. Wooly looks at her sadly. 

“I know…” Wooly sighs sadly, flopping down onto the grass, “But I'm going to miss them.”

“Me too…”

“But you wanted to let them go!” 

“I wanted to set them free.” Amanda explains, “Look at them, they’re right where they belong. Aren’t you happy for them?” 

“They would've been safer with us…” Wooly grumbles. 

“But now they’re happy… now they’re free.” Amanda says longingly, “I wish I was a butterfly.” 

“Why’s that?” Wooly asks. 

“So I can fly far far away.” Amanda stretches her arms out, feeling the sunshine and the breeze. Her eyes seem to sparkle. She lays down in the grass and watches the butterflies fly around above her. 

“Butterflies don’t live that long, you know.” Wooly pouts. Amanda rolls her eyes. 

“Better a short and happy life than a long and miserable one.” She grumbles.

“You think so?”

“Yeah…” Amanda sighs, sounding a bit more at peace. Wooly stares at her for a bit, looking like he wants to say something. Then he looks away and stands up. 

“There are other kinds of butterflies right? Don't you have any books on them?” Wooly asks. 

“Mmm yeah I think so.” Amanda replies nonchalantly, without even glancing up at him. 

“Don't moths also come from caterpillars?”

“Sure they do… why?” Amanda answers, looking suspicious of Wooly. 

“Just curious… I kinda forgot… it's uh… been awhile…” Wooly laughs sadly. Amanda looks sad for a moment then shakes it off.

“AN-Y-WAY!” She shouts jumping up off the lawn, “That's how caterpillars become butterflies!” The credit music begins to play. “WAIT- WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT!!!!” Amanda calls out frantically. “Before you go I- I need to ask you something. K-" she freezes, remembering Kate's words from before. “Fr-friend…” she says awkwardly, “Are you bored of me?” The voice prompt appears. 

“NO!! NEVER!” Kate shouted. Amanda's eyes widen. 

“But… you left… and you started making other people watch the tapes for you… I mean don't get me wrong I like them both but… I missed you…” Amanda whimpers. “I missed talking to you… and I finally remembered who you were but you disappeared and I had so much I wanted to talk to you about…”  Amanda cries softly. The voice prompt hasn’t disappeared yet. 

“Well… we can talk now.” Kate says softly. 

“Okay… um… Di-did you get the cookies? Did you like them?” 

“Cookies? What cookies?” Kate asks Riley, sounding extremely confused.

“We… got you some cookies… and sent them to you.”

“Oh… I'm sorry I never got any cookies… but I wasn't home so I wouldn't know.” 

“I see…” Amanda says sadly. 

“Um… well it's good to see you're back and okay!” Wooly says nervously. Amanda looks surprised at this.

“You didn't like K- her…” Amanda points out. 

“Well unlike a certain someone I know I don't wish the people I don't like would DIE.”

“Well maybe you should, Wooly.” Amanda mumbles. “Maybe we should want them dead…” wait… she's not talking about us. Who is she referring to? Probably the people at Hameln, right? Riley theorised.

“Look if this is about Hameln I'm sure they had a good reason-”

“Good reason?! Are you out of your MIND?!” Amanda snaps. Wooly falls silent. “You don't really still believe that nonsense do you?!”

“I don't know…” Wooly pouts. Amanda shakes her head with an annoyed expression.

“I’m not completely sure what's going on but… don't be a stranger… okay Kate?” Amanda smiles sadly. The tape ended and fell out of the machine. Kate slowly begins to break down in tears. 

“I'm sorry Rebecca… I'm sorry… I can't save you… I know I can't save you…” Kate sobbed.

“What do you mean, save?” Riley questions.

“I mean… getting her out… bringing her back…” 

“I don't think we can do that… but… I think we can set her free… her and all the kids…” Riley explained. “I mean… she will never be able to return to how she was… but I think she would rather be free than trapped in these tapes like this…”

“I can't do it… I can't let her go… I promised Sam… I promised…” 

“Sam would want her to be at peace too…” Riley sighed.

“I know… I know…” 

“So will you help me? Can we stop Hameln? Together?”

“You don't know what you're up against!” Kate argued. 

“Maybe…” Riley mumbled, “But I want to try!” Just then there is a knock on the door.

“Kate… it's me.” an unfamiliar voice says. Kate immediately stands up and opens the door. 

“Wait here, I'll introduce you… in a bit. You can handle the puzzle till then right?” She asked. Riley looked behind them. A children's butterfly puzzle is now on the table. They looked back at Kate and nodded. Kate nodded back and left. Riley heard some muffled conversation on the other side of the door. They looked at the puzzle. The pieces are gone. They looked around the room and found a piece with butterfly eggs on it. They placed it into the puzzle. Maybe I need to rewatch the tape to solve this one. Riley thought.

“You did WHAT?! Have you LOST your MIND?!” Kate shouted. What's going on? They wondered. Well hopefully she'll fill me in later. They take the tape and put it back into the VCR. 

The episode begins with Amanda and Wooly sitting on the couch watching some caterpillars in a butterfly habitat. She notices us.

“Oh hi again! I'm Amanda!” She beams. She waits again for Wooly, who is still watching the caterpillars, kicking his feet in the air happily. “He's in his own little world, huh?” Amanda grumbles. She elbows him sharply in the arm. 

“Ow! What is it?!” Wooly snaps, sounding really annoyed then he notices us..”Oh… um… and I'm Wooly!”

“So she isn't here this time?” Amanda questions. The voice prompt appears.

“She's talking to someone outside.”

“Oh, probably our other friend!” Amanda smiles. “Today we're raising caterpillars!” 

“Say, why don’t you help us?” Wooly points out. Amanda pulls out the diagram, she looks at it for a bit with disinterest. “Amanda?” 

“You remember the life cycle right?” she asks. The voice prompt appears.

“Yeah.” Riley replied. 

“And you’re not going to mess with us again right?” 

“Maybe.” Riley shrugged. Amanda and Wooly look annoyed. “Okay fine, I won’t.” Gotta speedrun this anyway.

“I’ll start us off… the eggs have already turned into caterpillars, so what comes next?”

“Chrysalis.”

“Correct!” Amanda grins, snapping her fingers. The caterpillars crawl up and start to form their chrysalises. Riley paused the tape and looked around for the chrysalis piece. Once they found it, they put it in the puzzle. They turn back to the TV and find the chrysalises fully-formed much faster than before. They walked back to the TV and hit play. 

“Whoooaaa…” Wooly marvels.  

“When the caterpillar emerges from the chrysalis what does it become?” 

“Butterfly.” Riley answers. 

“That’s right! A butterfly!” she grins. Just then, the butterflies come out of their chrysalises. Riley paused the tape and looked for the butterfly puzzle piece and added it to the puzzle. When they returned to the tv the butterflies had already emerged. 

“Look! Our butterflies are all grown up now!” Amanda beams. Wooly looks around awkwardly, like he wants to say something. Amanda sits on the couch watching the butterflies happily. “You’re right Wooly, they are really pretty.” Wooly doesn’t come and watch them this time. He looks uncomfortable and unsure, like there’s something on his mind. “You’re not going to watch them?”

“WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!” Wooly shouts, then he panics a bit like he didn’t mean to say that.

“What are you talking about?” Amanda says, confused and kind of offended. 

“YOU! You were acting… strange earlier!” 

“Earlier? What do you mean earlier?” Amanda asks mockingly. Wooly scowls at her. 

“Nevermind.” he sighs, “it’s nothing.” Amanda shrugs. 

“Are you ready for my favorite part?” Amanda grins. 

“How did you do that?” 

“Do what?!” Amanda snaps. 

“La-last time they watched the tape! You turned into your demon form and nothing bad happened!” 

“Yeah so?” 

“What do you mean yeah, so?!” Wooly shouts. “No no… that’s not what I meant to ask atl all… ugh forget it!” 

“Really? Because it seems like you have something to say…”

“I uh… um… hmm….” Wooly thinks really hard for a couple seconds, “uuuuh ugh… no… I… mmm… You-” his voice gets really quiet… he sounds almost… small all of the sudden, “You don’t really hate me do you?” 

“What was that?” Amanda asks, looking confused. She didn’t hear him.

“Nothing. I forgot.” 

“Okay then… So can we let the butterflies go now?” “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.” he groans. The tape fast-forwards on its own and ends. That was weird. Riley thought. They turn around and the next tape is behind them.

Authors Note: Experimenting with some new fic stuff to make it feel more like the games! Also did a lot more research this time to keep everything in character. Obviously though, this is a direct continuation of the second game... and I don't know what will happen then. So some stuff is kind of just made up on the fly. I have no idea if Amanda is actually able to control her demon form or not, but I thought it was a cool idea so I tried it.

Constructive criticism is totally welcome btw, if I didn't say so before! I'm writing fics to improve my writing skills, so seriously, any feedback is welcome (as long as it's not like... straight up rude. If you say "this sucks" with no elaboration that's not constructive criticism).

[qeyond]

i have been gnawing at the bit over the idea of B kidnapping L im a second away from writing The most self indulgent fic inspired by your tags on that 'is kidnapping illegal if u rly rly love them' post , anyway can i pick your brain for ideas surrounding a kidnapping scenario LMAO

KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING READING THIS

YES OMG PLEASE!! Idk how helpful I'll be but I'm absolutely down to talk B kidnapping L >:3c he just wants to dress L up and play with him like a lil doll but also taxidermy him like a prized hunt and admire him forever 🥰👍💕💕💕

[slaygentford]

proposition: matthew mcconaughey blonde curls american lestat. of course. of course. of courssse. yeah, baby, as long as you come home to daddy. of courssse.

ive been sitting in silence staring at this since I got the notification.

[screampied]

#THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY. g. suguru

☆ sum. the last thing you’d expect for a surprise birthday present by your friends was a visit to a men’s strip club. geto suguru—your dancer’s got it all. tall, handsome, and he wants waaay more than just thirty minutes with you.

wc. 6.9k (h.. haha)

warnings. fem! reader, stripper au, stripper! geto, unprotected, lap dancīng, dry humping, switch geto, lots of riding, 69, finishing too quick, choking, geto has nīpple piercings, hair pulling, spīt, dirty talk, he licks champagne off you, nīpple play, breedīng, praise, **** cameo :), petnames.

an. ty to the ppl who voted on my poll <3 kinda scared to post this LOL. this came on a whim ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

➤ kinktober mlist.

“i understand your body wants it. i know your thoughts, oh you ‘bout it ‘bout it . . ”

the erotic lyrics that blared through the club’s abject speakers nearly deafened your ears the moment you stepped inside. you were flashed with a plethora of luminescent jade lights as you read a glowing sign near the bar that read ‘welcome to the vixxxen lounge.’ your friends, who decided to surprise you for your birthday with nothing more than a girls’ trip to a men’s strip club told you they’d be getting drinks if you need them. of course . . that was probably code for: going to spend time near the private rooms.

apparently, it’s ‘happy hour’ which meant countless discounts—and you’d already had your two individual sessions paid for by one of your friends. crisp aerating air waves from the air conditioner chills against your skin as you lean against the bronzy brick pillar. you gather your surroundings, eyeing the oily attractive glossed men that entertained the screaming crowds of thirsty women. the wide stage was spacey, and it almost looked like a concert—you started to wonder just who you were paired up with. but right as you’re pondering deep in thought, there’s a light tap on your shoulder.

“miss.”

you turn around to face probably the most attractive man you’ve laid your eyes upon. he’s tall with lengthy long hair — tangled black tresses of strands that reach just about past his shoulders. you couldn’t help but openly gawk a bit . . finding your eyes to leisurely trail down toward his skimpy attire. near his neck, he had a stained smooch of a lip stick mark that was a dark shaded red. you then noticed a few hundred dollar bills stuck in between his red thin straps.

this guy, it appeared he was dressed as some kind of firefighter. he had on the helmet along with the matching baggy yellow pants, but was completely topless. the only thing that went against his chiseled pecs was the skinny straps that attached onto the belts of his pants.

“heyy,” he waves a hand in your face, arching a brow.

“o- oh, sorry,” you bashfully murmur, mentally cursing yourself out for wandering off into space again. embarrassing, embarrassing. fishing for your vip pass that gave you direct access to one of the secluded private rooms—you dig it out your pocket, staring down at the assigned dancer and room number. “are you uh . . geto?”

“i am. but ah, suguru’s fine,” he murmurs, and he takes your pass, putting the temperature lanyard over your neck. geto’s fingers brush against your skin and you nearly shudder.

his touch.. it felt like sparks of electricity, and near the far distance by the crowded stage, your friends waved at you. with a throaty, “follow me, birthday girl,” he swiftly turns his heels and starts making a beeline toward the back of the club. you follow him, continuing to eye his costume.

but phew, he had quite the ass.

but anyway—that’s not the point.

it never really occurred to you how all the male strippers had specific costumes—you were far too entranced by geto. it was probably because of how halloween was only a mere few weeks away, so it’d make sense how they’d be ordered to get into the spirit of things.

“and imma let you do it how you wanna girl i’ll riiiide with it, riiiide with it . . ”

the lyrics of that catchy same song that resounded through the speakers of the club grew louder—and as he guided you inside the dimly red lit room, he makes you lie back against a cushioned sofa. there’s a few piles of money scattered near the front, and you didn’t count but that amount could make anyone filthy rich.

geto rubs the back of his neck, rolling it around to stretch before he glances down at you. you struggle to look him in the eye and a faint smile creases across his lips.

you’re new, and he could tell you weren’t used to such carnal provocative environments.

“relaaax, pretty girl,” his voice was low purr. the way he talked was soothing, a good amount of teasing and playfulness. right at his words, your shoulders slumped and you lean back.

the air around you seems to close in, getting thicker ‘n thicker before he makes you haul your arms over the edges of the couch. “comfy?” and he doesn’t do anything else until you give him a subtle complying nod. geto takes off his amber-colored helmet before putting it on your head. “lean back. just focus on me.”

“o . . okay,” you exhale, and your eyes finally meet his.

the fake firefighter helmet crooks, tilting a bit to the side over the crown of your head as you watch him starting to sway to the bass dropping beats. you gulp as he gets closer . . and closer, following the exact steps to his usual routine before he gets on your lap.

he’s so pretty, and now that his helmet was off of him, you got an even more view of his face. geto starts to slowly grind against you, one hand resting near back of the couch that’s next to your shoulder. he’s fully in sync with the song that booming blares in the background.

the friction. he was moving up against you, and you couldn’t help but glance down his glossy chest. his legs were huge, and you didn’t even notice the clamped silver piercings that stuck against his reddened nipples. “is this okay?” he whispers, and you already feel yourself starting to heat up. the a/c was blasting—and yet, you felt like it was over a hundred degrees.

“ ‘s okay,” you breathlessly say, feeling your facial expressions serene. geto swiftly gets off you, and he starts to rock and grind his hips against the floor.

he’s slow and precise—each movement matches the following before he sits up, flicking against the straps of his costume. fuck, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. you knew he was probably used to this . . seeing so many women at a time, giving them a thirty minute private dance and going on with his day.

geto had charisma and lots lots of it.

it was ironic because he didn’t even have to say anything. throughout the duration of his entire routine, he let his hips do the rest of the talking. speaking of hips, you’ve never seen a more a slutty waist.

it’s unapologetically snatched, and you start to envision seeing his face plastered on every cover of a a men’s vogue magazine. he’s gorgeous—and the second he’s back in your lap again, he leans into the crook of your neck. “hey,” he repeats, and his voice was a lot more pitched and lower. it’s a dirty kind of husky that makes you clench your thighs together. as he’s up close—you get a whiff of his cologne. it’s quite loud, and you’d guess the scent was something between bergamot and rich aromatic oak moss. “do you wanna touch me?”

a breath gets trapped in the back of your clogged throat at the question.

geto continues to gradually grind his hips into you as pretty black strands of his hair tickles near your shoulders. “y- yes,” and the words smoothly flow from your lips like smooth molasses of chocolate.

geto was patient, and he wanted to make you comfortable—that was his number one priority.

he speaks in a more rough yet sly tone. “ ‘m gonna grab your wrists okay? just feel me,” and you feel mentally prepare yourself. biting down on your bottom lip—you mouth a soft, ‘okay,’ and geto gently grabs your wrists.

he’s still slowly jerking his hips against you, matching each sultry beat of the song. the base of the chorus rang through your ears and the lyrics flowed through once ear ‘n out the other.

as you stare up at him, he makes you press your hands firmly against his shaven flexing chest. sheets of slicking sweat that covers the top part of his body coats on your hands and you cutely furrow your brows. “heh, oh sorry love. ‘m a bit sweaty, hope that doesn’t turn you off.”

“it’s f . . fine,” you utter, and he resumes to guide your hands. his chest was as hard as a brick, and you felt how his muscles would freely tense.

god, geto was a literal sculpture. you probably looked stupid with how you kept openly staring at his perfectly carved abs. an entire six pack - each section even more strenuously ripped than the first.

as you continue to gawk, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets—you feel him shifting his weight a bit so he wouldn’t crush you. your thumb snags against his pierced nipple and he grunts, breaking character for a second. he lets off a cute snarl. “sorry! i didn’t-”

“sweetheart, it’s okay,” he hums, releasing a low puff of air. so he was sensitive there, noted.

as he continues, he makes your hands reach lower. the thin straps of his costume glide against your plump fingertips before he stops at his fading raven-colored happy trail.

black ‘n bushy . . you could make out every single tiny speck of hair that stuck against the lower part of his abdomen if you squinted, and you did.

the rest was hiding underneath the upper hem part of his prop turnout pants. “now ‘m gonna let go of my hands,” he whispers, eyeing you intently.

it was so much lustful ardor in the air. the more you stared at the dancer, the more you started questioning why the hell you never visited a strip club sooner. a question that was probably gonna remain unanswered..

“ . . ‘n ‘m gonna let you do whatever you want while i finish.” he concludes his sentence, and as if his hands were attached to your own with adhesive velcro, geto slowly pulls away.

now, it’s just your two balmy palms pressing against his chest. you take it upon yourself to drag an invisible line down his flat sleek cheek with your fingers.

your hands then find themselves reaching for a few papery fifty dollar bills, tossing it at his glossed grinding body. geto sighs with a cunning simper, continuing to rock his slim hips into your lap. “that’s it, feel me princess. ‘m all yours.”

and in a way – he was.

it was only you two in the room, and yet it felt like you ‘n suguru were the only people on earth. the entire mood was sensual and you could almost smell the libido that radiated off his skin. it was a scent you couldn’t describe—but you didn’t want him to stop.

as your hands kept roaming down his puffed out chest, you stop right at the hem of his pants. poking out, his sharp carved-like ‘v’ shaped pelvis arches within each muscle he moves forward.

the crimson red lights that flicker every three seconds narrowly spotlights toward geto’s fit body. for a quick moment—you get a good glimpse of his face and he’s inches away from your shimmery twitching lips.

geto leans up to your ear and he hoarsely whispers. “birthday girllll,” and he huffs out a drawn breath, feeling you eagerly tug at his pants. a snicker leaves from him before he gets a nice smell of your citrusy perfume. “ah. is the pants gettin’ on your nerves?”

“a bit,” you murmur honestly, and you were already undressing him with your eyes. you were sure geto was most likely wearing a thong underneath but you imagined otherwise.

filthy - you couldn’t believe the thoughts you were having.

to think, if you hadn’t accepted this little ‘girls’ trip’ with your friends, you’d probably be sleeping the entire day away. after all, they did want you to get out more. especially for your special day. with a pout twisting across each part of your lips, you sigh. “can i—”

“what, undress me?” he tries to play coy, seeing your pouty expression increase. geto hums, amused as you lightly hook a finger underneath his hooked strap before he shrugs. “go ‘head, princess. knock y’rself out.”

geto found your hesitance cute. you didn’t wanna seed ‘needy’ but you were showing all signs of it. at the moment, you completely forgot you were at a strip club and he was just a dancer.

but fuck it.

you went slow as he still straddles your lap, slowly pulling down his loosely fitted pants. they were baggy.. a flashy color of yellow, and the more you tugged them down, the more you got a glance at his scanty thong.

it’s dark purple with his name embedded on the thin white strips.

from all sides, it spelled ‘s u g u r u,’ in bold lilac plum colors. he even had custom made thongs? as if you couldn’t get even more aroused—

yeah, you were aroused. leave it to your legs that remained glued together starting to swelter up with … stickiness.

not everyday did you have a man grind against your lap, and to be fucking frank you didn’t think you’d last.

“you’re so pretty,” you pant, watching him shimmy his pants down to where it flops down to his ankles. and oh, he had quite the bulge.

it looked almost painful—so swole and round, you just wanted to kiss it. it looked like at any second it was about to just burst through the cottony stretched fabric. the scenery grows more hedonic as the red lights dimmer. you could barely see his face anymore, just a silhouette that grinds against your lap at each beat of the song playing loudly.

as you nearly slip out a moan, you lean back before your heaving breaths start to accelerate. “suguru.”

“aw,” he coos, feeling your arms wrap around his slender waist. geto’s still swiftly grinding into you, feeling your cute nails claw into his back. the back of your brain kept chanting ‘more, more, more!’

you still have the helmet on, and with the way it’s crooked and could barely fit your head—he found that small detail adorable. as he remained seated on your squished thighs, it was embarrassing to think you were starting to feel yourself erratically throb.

leaning into your neck, he could loudly smell your sheer arousal and it makes him lowly chuckle against the soft shell of your ear. “not satisfied, yeah?” and he lets off a quiet bellowing grunt, feeling your hands trail down his sweaty body once more.

he’s so built, parallel to a literal tank.

geto’s rocking against you in rhythm with the same song that still trumpets through the speakers before whispering. “just say it ‘n i’ll give it to you.”

“you always come to the parties. to pluck the feathers off allll the biiiirds. . ”

the lengthy song continued to drag on—and the busted speakers in the private room sounded like it was about to break from the distortion. it was loud, but your panting breaths was even louder the more geto dances on you.

letting off a longing three second moan once a leg of yours voluntarily hooks around his slim waist, you mewl out a sweet, “i want you. suguru, fuck me.”

“oh. sounds like a demand, sweetheart,” he purrs, and he stills his hips against your lap.

geto’s got a plethora of rings on each of his fingers. pretty silver ‘n gold bands that would wrap around his digits. he had long fingers, thin and perfectly slender.

the more you stared, the more you thought how good they’d fit insi—

“eyes up here,” he cuts you off, and you shudder feeling his palms cup your face. your leg still wraps around his waist before another shortly follows.

he’s barely rocking into you now, and with a bumpy shimmy, you feel his bulge rub against you. “mhm,” geto grunts before meeting your needy gaze once more. as a thumb strokes your bottom lip, pulling it down gingerly, he whispers. “ask nicely. say pretty please.”

“you won’t … charge me extra?” you sheepishly say, beads of perspiring sweat trickling down all sides of your forehead.

geto smugly smiles, grumbling a subtle, ‘nah,’ before making you lean all the way back against the padded sofa. “okay,” you breathe, and you just didnt care anymore.

you wanted him – maybe even needed him..

geto’s hardened bulge that presses against his thong throbs harder before you sweetly murmur,“please, fuck me, suguru.”

“anythin’ for the birthday girl.”

and those words were the same exact words that ran through your mind as you now found yourself in . . quite the risqué position.

you’d be the one straddling geto now. he’s got you in a classic 69, and your pretty perked ass hovers over his face. right in front of you was his weighty fat cock, and it’s a pretty flushed pink with rosy-lime veins prodding from the sides.

you’re whimpering out sweet harmonic keynotes as his long pointed tongue slithers its through your inviting entrance, two broad arms clinging onto your hips. “fuuckk,” he’d groan, feeling you smear a thumb over his leaky mushroomy tip.

you’ve already got him sopping wet from the chin down thanks to your wet cunt – glossy pearly drool seeping from the sides of his dick.

geto’s shaft remains idle, and you wrap a hand around his base before pumping it, rotating your wrist – once, twice, thrice..

he was aching, and the entire time he was giving you a show he had a boner. it was rare, usually whenever he gave lap dances—he was one to never really crack, he was a trained professional and yet here you were.

“mmch,” his swollen puckered lips smack against your cunt as he eats you out entirely from the back.

your mouth drops, jaw dangling— goofily hanging open like a cartoon as he resumes to extends the length of his tongue inside the outskirts of your warm room-temperate-tastin’-pussy.

lolling it out all the way, he licks from top to bottom—stopping at your clenching hole. geto gives it a five second kiss, a sloppy one that glues a mixture of his spit and your slimy juices on his mouth. “sweetheaaart,” he rasps, biting back a greedy groan once he feels you starting to take him in your mouth.

your throat’s seraphic warmth draws a hot sharp breath out of him as he swats a hard palm against your ass for you to start. “when i say move your ass against my face, i fuckin’ mean it. move,” and you let off a candied whimper the second the temporary sting sends singles toward your weeping whiny clit.

feebly, you start to flop your ass up and down against his face and you hear a satisfy ‘hmm’ purr from his lips. you’re moaning, sinking his cock down your throat in the process before your sticky tongue swirls around his angered crownhead. “mmph,” and you take a few inches before you feel his tip swipe against the scaled roof of your mouth.

going back up, it loudly ‘pops!’ out as a bit of sheeny saliva trickles down your chin. you’re taking him deep within no time, and you let off a cute hiccup once his swollen sack paps near your jaw.

so full ‘n round…

you’re breathing through your nose, still shaking your ass against his face, swipin’ his nose occasionally like a credit card with your honeyed-slathered cunt.

his wide flat tongue felt so good that you felt your toes curling each time he playfully nibbles on your sensitive throbbing clit. his tastebuds felt each pulse and it was so hot. “sugu, fuck.”

“i know, i know,” he gruffly whispers against your runny folds. bringing a pair of long twinned fingers towards your pussy, geto strums it down the pulsating slit in a straight pillaring line.

with a bit of pressure—he spreads your lower lips apart, getting a front row seat view of your clit pumpin’ pumpin’ away.

you had such a pretty throb, the prettiest he’s ever seen.

“god, you’re pretty but you’re even prettier down here too,” and not only do you hear him swallow but you feel it too.

a long full gulp, and he’s making sure to savor as much of your sweet slick on his tongue as possible.

geto’s just nasty, and a proud eater. he zigzags his tongue everywhere until your vision’s murky and clouded. you’re left crossed eyed with puffed up cheeks, barely able to focus on his dick that’s laying flat on your tongue.

a hand of his squeezes against your ass before with a mean ‘whack!’ he spanks it again just to see the bouncy recoil. the way a ‘lil fat portion of your ass would jiggle all due to the hasty-rash contact of his palm makes him throb.

and you feel it right in your mouth.

as your head bobbles at a more quick yet languid pace, your tongue skims down one of the many veins that paint down his cock. your repeated moans become muffled, and geto groans at how sloppy you sound—from the front and from behind.

the more he slurps every syrupy drop that dribbles out from your gurgling pussy, his precisely-thorough licks turn into exaggerated four second sucks.

geto softly caresses a hand against the bare skin of your exposed flesh, tugging on your pulled up skirt. pulled to the side were your panties that had a pretty pink star imprinted on the back decorated with glimmery rhinestones. you moan as your back slowly arches inward ‘n out and your knees become to buck.

his tongue, he definitely knew how to eat.

“ ‘s good, juuuus’ like that princess,” he huffs, feeling minuscule dewdrops of your saliva pour down the sides of his cock, slicking all over his base.

your thumb traces a heart over his hefty sack, massaging his tender full testes before you hear geto whine out a sweet, “o- oooh shit,” he was tender there too, huh..

and the sound catches him completely off guard because he grunts, the swaying of his tongue gradually slowing down. geto’s pretty lashes flutter before he grunts, taking a second to breathe. “don’t . . stop, play with ‘em some more,”

“pf—” you pop your mouth off his dick again, wet slimy sounds following as you stroke him off with an closed palm. “are you sure?”

“yeah yeah, ‘m sure,” and there’s a bit of sass in his gruff tone.

geto’s getting flustered, and never in a million years would he admit that you playing with his balls made him feel so good but fuck, it did.

geto paws a hand against your ass before letting off a hurried breathless, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

you went back to bobbling your head up ‘n down, pumping his fleshy pillar of length in your free hand before you start writhing your ass against his face even more quicker. geto moans, a surge of a trill nearly escaping out his gruff vocal chords before he grunts loudly. “mmp,” and your throat was so wet ‘n warm.

it enveloped him entirely, and as your cunt’s sitting over his slick lips—every so often rubbing against his nose and slick-streamed chin, he peppers it with a few kisses.

your hips were arched ‘n askew, and as your tongue occasionally darts down his sensitive slit you hear him grunt again. the burgundy colored sofa pathetically dips inward due to the stacked weight of both rutting bodies. geto’s eyes start to roll their way back as you continue, nearly sucking the soul out of him.

“fuck, baby. spit on it,” he groans, clasping his teeth at your needy clit.

he slides his tongue against your cute bulbous-shaped nub before sucking on it for the umpteenth time. you moan, still tossing your ass around for him in a slow meandering manner, feeling his tongue drag down the slope of your ass again.

geto’s pussy drunk entirely, and he didn’t care if this was against policy, having a customer touch him. when you tasted this divine, he couldn’t help devour your cunt like the starved, starved man he was..

at his words, you spat out translucent globs of saliva from your lips, pasting the slightly curved sides of his dick with your slick mess. “pff,” and you drench him from the base down, twisting his shaft with your wrist before hearing him groan.

geto’s about to finish and you could feel the vigorous pumps of his dick in your mouth growing weaker … and weaker – until, he cums.

geto’s jaw goes slack the moment his peak abnormally reaches, and growls out a husky ‘fuuuuuck,’ with the muscles in his neck tensing.

within a blink of an eye and a snap of a finger, the flat tip of your tongue’s now being sprayed with spritz of waxen cum. it’s a bittersweet taste that coats on your judgy tastebuds, and as you close your eyes with a humming moan departing from your lips, you hear him hiss. his body’s violently shaking, and his hips start to hungrily thrust into your mouth.

you wriggle your ass in face as he’s barely eating you out anymore, frantically heaving as he dumps his all down your pretty tight throat. “fuck, fuck, take it,” and his body still sporadically tremors.

as your mouth’s still full, geto gives your teary wet cunt it’s last few lapping licks before his head collapses back in lecherous defeat.

with cheeks still plumply puffed — his cock remains shoved inside. his aggravated red tip’s just swiping ‘n erupting near the roof of your mouth as you slurp him clean.

you swallow instantaneously, luxuriating in the mildly honey taste before feeling him shudder underneath you. “goddamn, so fuckin’ good. fuckin’ filthy, princess.”

with clammy palms, he turns you over and you lean in to kiss him. geto’s taken by surprise, and as you make him flop back against the velveteen cushion, you made your way on his lap. rough edges of teeth clash and roughly clatter against each other as each tongue plays a more salacious version twister.

geto reclines back, his hands moving toward your rocking waist as he grunts—tasting himself on your tongue. its bitter, but with the help of your lip gloss—it turns far more sweet within seconds. feverish breaths ghosts inside each mouth before you watch him reach near the side of him.

grabbing a half filled up bottle of mousseux, he flicks off the cork with a flick of his middle finger. geto’s eyes still closed as he’s delving his tongue right into your mouth.

the merciless smacking of lips grew louder before he pulls away, huffing breathlessly. “wan’ more of a taste real quick, princess,” and it sounds more like a needy plead. you see how flushed his face was, and geto’s eyes dart straight toward your bare chest. the top you wore was pulled down, clinging near the very bottom of your waist. “c’mere..”

and as you lean in, you watch as geto starts to pour down a small stream of champagne all down your chest. right between your tits, cupping underneath your tummy so none wouldn’t spill further down.

he makes sure a few glosses over your pretty round breasts before he grunts, closing the distance between your chest.

geto buries his face in between the valley of your tits, licking it right up. the bubbly fruity taste lingers on his tongue as he laps you up from top to bottom moaning at the spicy sweetness.

a mixture of your skin and champagne—better than any cocktail this club’s ever served.

“f- fuck,” he moans, lying his tongue flat. geto stares at you the entire time too, and his mouth gradually trails it way toward your damp neglected nipples. he cups his lips around the first nipple—slowly transitioning to the next before slurping the drink right off your body.

a tight breath gets caught in your throat as he continues to lick the rainy drops of sugary champagne off your body. geto groans, savoring the taste before with a loud ‘plop’, he pops your tender wet nipple out of his mouth.

there’s nothing but utter lust and infatuation in his eyes—and he then gets up to kiss you. the room’s nearly pitch dark without the help of the dim effulgent red lights that shined against you both. it added to the mood perfectly.

as tongues continue to try to assert dominance, you moan right in the dancer’s mouth, returning the gesture of swapping gauzy strings of gossamer spit.

abruptly though, you pull away, gently pushing geto back against the sofa.

with a raspy ‘ugh,’ geto lands on his back as you give him a light shove. he’s at your mercy, and you stand up from his lap, a wind of confidence coming out of nowhere and nearly pulling you forward.

he stares at you with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, watching you do a figure eight with your body.

“what’s . . this?” he huffs, burly arms stretching over each edge of the sofa. you looked so pretty, eyeing him up and down as he does the exact same to you.

the luminescent lights started to beam on you now, highlighting your curves and entire physique.

“lie back,” you murmur, slowly sashaying toward him. geto runs a hand through his hair, his dick twitching from the cool air wafting against it. you teasingly drag a finger down the scarred middle line of his bare-puffed chest, stopping at a hardened row of his brick-made abs. “i wanna try your little routine.”

“yeahh?” geto snickers, sucking in a sharp breath once you spin around, bending all the way over. the helmet that was still on your head—you put it back on him, watching him scoff at your audacity.

so you stole his profession now, great.

as you’re turned the other way, you slowly wriggle your ass in front of him, putting a hand over your sopping pussy and he kisses his teeth. “tch. don’t tease, sweetheart,” and geto’s allured stare fixates on you the entire time. his dilated irises frantically roamed around every and any part of your body like a laser. “fuck,” he grunts, watching you finally make your way on his lap.

geto’s all submissively underneath you—bare ‘n exposed with his poor tip flushed. its color was a sheeny carmine red that’s akin to a ripe cerise rose.

a few dried up splotches of cum stick near his weighty sides before he shudders. your ass sits on his flaccid dick before you start to move.

slowly,

you’re rutting into him—just like he was to you, grinding back and forth. geto looks so pretty though, underneath you. he’s still panting a bit, sweating bullets as you tease him with your crazed hips.

you weren’t at his level quite yet, but fuck could you move. geto groans, feeling your sloppy pussy rub off against his dick. you were so close to his tip that his foreskin would peel back a bit. “do you wanna touch me?”

touché..

geto narrows his eyes at you as you tease him, repeating his exact words from what he said to you earlier.

he doesn’t just touch you, he fucks you—

but in this case . . you fuck him.

geto holds back a moan as he’s watching his claret-colored cockhead disappear between your sappy folds. it’s like a magic trick, and with a ‘poof!’ half of length vanished within you.

you let off a soft shrilling whine, trying to writhe yourself around his length.

his dick was fat. ‘eyes-rolling-tongue-lolling-drag-your-nails-down-his back-’ type of fat.

and his girth only made things ten times more intense. you felt him rearranging your guts within each prolonged inch you took – literally.

you’re as slow as a snail with the way you try to take him wholly. even as you’re gingerly sinking your bare ass down with his cock snug ‘n deep inside you, he easily kisses against your g-spot.

it’s happening already, and you don’t even realize he’s fully in before a cooing whimper rawly snatches from the back of your dry esophagus. “oh fuck,” you huff, tossing your arms around the dark haired man.

geto’s got the same wide-eye-jaw-dropped reaction to you, and with one arm snaking around your waist—another’s tightly gripping onto your right ass cheek.

he spanks it, giving it a short squeeze afterward. your chest starts to heave in quickened intervals, and once he feels you starting to move it’s game fuckin’ over..

“god, pussy’s ‘ta die for,” he groans, eyes sexily rolling back until his sockets show nothing but white.

you had him whipped, and he can hear your cunt trying to have a word of its own, squelching out cute gargled squelches. you start to ride him at a mere hypnotic rhythm—and geto’s a lot more vocal now.

with his adam’s apple bobbing, both hands of his were now gripping onto your waist now. piles of money surround you too, a few sticking against his sweaty beefy thighs. “fuck me,” he grunts, and it’s more like he’s begging.

geto locks eyes with you, shaggy long bangs running past his eyes before he securely grabs your hips—trying to keep up pace with you. “mhm, thaaa’s it. ride it, ride . . the shit out of me, uuughhh.”

“ ‘m trying,” you moan, biting your lip each time his swollen cockhead plummets its way deep.

he’s just so big—you couldn’t wrap your head around how a guy could be so damn big.

the good kind of big, and each time he’d seep a single girthy inch into you, your stomach would churn like butter. he’s in sooo deep, your legs could barely support yourself anymore and he had to hold you steady.

as he pulls you all the way down, geto reaches waaay inside of your sloppy gripping cunt that’s oh-so desperate to wring him like a vice.

his thick cock greets your pretty fleshy cervix, mimicking a soft ‘knock’ before introducing itself with a welcoming pound.

he holds your hips, pumping himself into you again, and again, until your pussy remembered each stroke, each thrust, each fuckin’ letter of his name—front to last..

slow but fucking deep.

you gasp, clinging onto his neck before soft hurried pants of ‘yeah, yeah’ ‘s scurry past your glossed lips.

geto’s dewy eyes were half lidded and he’s never felt more pussy drunk in his life. trust—he’s had his fair share of women but oh, you were far different. it was something about you, and he just wanted more after each carnal second passed.

you’re so into his dick givin’ your pussy a fuck of a lifetime that you don’t even realize your hand was now wrapped around his thick neck. not too tight, but geto’s reaction time was slow also. once he realizes seconds after you did, he sheepishly scoffs before slyly humming.

“goddd, y’r so fuckin’ hot when you choke me,” he purrs, tugging at the panties that pull to the side of your thighs. of course he’d enjoy it, and as his dick’s still massaging your gummy walls, he moans. “harderrr.”

“don’t be greedy,” you mumble, burying your knees into his bulky thighs.

the way you rocked against him was hypnotic—and geto’s hands remain on your waist.

you nearly shudder, feeling the various cold bands of his rings run and tickle down your skin. he’s in love with your body, and even more in love with the way you feel from the inside.

leaning in close until you’re just inches away from his spit-slicked lips, your thumb runs its way down the bulging ball that lies inside his throat. “say ‘pretty pleaseee.’ ”

“tsk,” geto scowls, and even with a pout he’s effortlessly attractive. your hips continued to champion its way up ‘n down at a deranged pace as you moved, and his cock’s pumping you full over and over and over. with a vexed grunt, he utters. “pretty please, choke me harder.”

leaning in to kiss the side of his mouth, you whisper a crooning, “good boy,” and geto whines the moment you add a bit more pressure around his neck.

his hair’s all in his face, and your ass was just ruthless.

ferociously slamming down onto his stout cock, you’re drenching him from the base down with your syrup-coated slick. a bit of your own sloppy arousal glues against the pried apart crevices of your thighs—pasting against his as well.

it’s a mess, and with how close he was getting, he was about to create an even bigger one..

geto felt like he was ascending—and with how you were riding him, it didn’t take him long before he’s close again.

yet this time—so were you, and you could recognize the feeling all too well. geto’s cock stretched you to capacity, and he grabs the few dollar bills that scatter on the sofa, throwing it at your body whilst you rode him. he makes it rain on you, spanking your ass with a crumbled up hundred rubbing against your stung skin.

“fuck, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum again,” he grunts in your ear, feeling your pace accelerate by a mile. you were draining him, preparing to milk him and the thought of him stuffing your cunt full made you pulse.

your tongue salivated at just imagining it..

the warmth, the stickiness, the way it’d spill between your thighs. you’re moaning out sweet noises yourself as you both rut into each other at a demented overzealous pace. geto’s thick thighs clench—and while you’re letting out cute blubs of his name on repeat until it’s the only syllables your dumb brain could register—he pulls you close. “ngh, same time, pretty girl. cum with me, let’s make a . . hah, mess together.”

“okay,” you mewl out, both hips pivoting in lascivious unison.

both sweaty mounds of flesh blissfully bounce into at other and each squelch makes you whimper out in ecstasy.

you cup geto’s pecs, smearing a thumb over his pierced nipples and he whines instantly. you lean in to suck against the bars that slash through his tender areola. geto leans back manspread, growling out husky, ‘fuuuuck!’ ‘s as you hum, giving both his nipples its few seconds of attention.

it lasts for seconds that felt like years, and one you pull away he lets out a cute blasé huff.

as your cunt’s in the midst of overflowing—your hips tremor once more time before within milliseconds, you both cum.

it’s quick..

and with your jaw dropping and geto’s shoulders fatally sagging after his big, heavy sigh—he starts to fill you up ounce after ounce.

it’s patching hot, and the second he’s beginning to spill ‘n dump out his perfect ivory ribbons of cum inside of you, you grunt out a melodic finishing, “fuuuck.”

swinish, weak hands grab at your ass as you come undone also—whimpering soft defeating babbles from the sensitive feeling of your cunt spasming right between your jittery numb legs.

you feel static … shock, electricity pulsing through your veins all at once. your entire body was turning haywire. as you start to grow limb right with geto underneath you—nirvana runs through each individual axon on your body before you hear a loud ‘pop.’

it’s more of a sopping squishing sound, and you were so dumbed down from his dick that you didn’t even realized how full you were..

peeking down, he filled you to the brim. wads and wads and wads of cum went inside of you and you moan, spreading your ass apart while craning your neck around just to see for yourself.

“ ‘m so full, suguru,” you pant, sliding a thumb down your sputtering cunt that’s plugged with both his cock and his thin oozing seed. you lick your lips before turning back towards geto and he’s absolutely fucked stupid.

you rode him so good to the point where he’s just stammering out inaudible whines. it’s cute, and you lean in to kiss him once more.

oh.. he was hooked.

he deepens with a few clingy hands feeling at your chest. the kiss gets more passionate rather than sloppy, and as he’s still buried inside of your cunt—he slowly starts to trail butterfly kisses down your neck. you moan, turning your head before you pull away. “shit, i almost f- forgot.”

“forgot what?” he hoarsely rasps, watching you unalign yourself, plopping down on the sofa with a big content sigh.

geto leans in, allowing his thumb to draw circles around your hips before you reach in for your purse, pulling out another decorated vip pass.

sheepishly, you utter. “my friends bought me two sessions with two dancers. so i have another one after you,” and you glance at the clock, squinting before you let off a bashful titter. “. . . oh, that was way past thirty minutes.”

“who? what dancer, sweetheart?” geto utters with a pout. he was still aching, already missing his you felt from the inside. he watches as you squint at your pass that reads the dancer’s stage name and / or full name on the back.

“uhh, it says t—”

“she means me,” and the both of you spin heads, ogling at the glittery red carpet and decorated pathway that was once covered up.

you could hear geto that laid beside you muttering out a jealous, ‘fuck,’ as you meet the other dancer’s gaze.

he’s wearing a leopard thong with an added on accessory of the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen.

a slashed scar runs down the right side of his crooked curved lips and you spot bills sticking at both sides of his halfway on thong that nearly shows his sharp hips before he hums.

“name’s toji,” and you’re suddenly being lifted up by strong, tatted brawny arms before he turns around, winking at a very pissed of geto before trodding out the private room with you in his arms.

“i’ll take it from here,” and feral green eyes with an even more feral grin. “ain’t that right, birthday girlll?”

[bi-writes]

ghost doesn't think he hears you correctly, not at first. there's a ringing that's still in his ears from the bullet he nearly ate earlier. (cw: dubcon, 18+)

"wot?"

"can you please please please--pretend to be my boyfriend--just for one minute--!"

"heyyy, sunshine," a nasty little voice sings. you spin around, cowering by the bar, just as someone a little too drunk and a little too big comes into your space. you scoot away from him, but he's coming closer, leaning over you, and ghost tilts his head to the side as he watches the way you flinch at the stink of his breath.

ghost fits into the space at your back quite easily. your back arches a little as his big hand finds the bend of your waist, and you squeak a little when he forces you back, pressing your ass against his pelvis as he tucks you into his shadow.

"who's this fuckin' nitwit?" ghost mutters, clicking his tongue under his mask. you swallow, blinking up at the man, shrugging as you try and press yourself a little closer against his heat.

"i-i dunno," you whisper, and it's shaky, afraid. "h-he won't stop...following me."

"tha' right?" ghost hums, and you're so afraid of the man in front of you that you don't really register the way ghost's big hand is slipping lower, over the curve of your denim jeans and squeezing the fat of your ass that fills the palm of his hand all too nicely. "ya botherin' 'er?"

the man swallows a little, hiccuping. he stands up straighter, a little more sober, and he just shrugs as he takes another swig of his beer.

"just...she's so pretty, ya know--agh!"

ghost reaches over and grips him by the fat of his neck. he squeezes hard, drawing him closer, would be spitting in his face if he wasn't wearing the balaclava over his head.

"'f i see ya around 'er again, i'll paint the fuckin' walls with y'r teeth, mate, yeah? now get outta my fuckin' sight before i do it just for fun."

when ghost lets him go, he struggles to breathe, holding onto the bar and coughing as he scrambles to put distance between you. you shake a little, turning towards the bar, picking up what you assume is his drink and sipping it slowly to try and calm the nerves. you close your eyes gently, shaking your head.

"thank you," you say softly. "i-i couldn't shake him off, he was following me everywhere, i..." you turn your head and meet his eyes, smiling up at him. "that was really nice of you. i'm...sorry if i caused you any trouble."

ghost tilts his head to the side, fitting himself back behind you. he reaches over, putting both arms on either side of you and leaning over one shoulder, breathing hot against your neck.

"wot you mean?" he murmurs, and you blink, not understanding.

"for pretending to..." you laugh a little, looking into his eyes. "just...it was nice of you to do that. to pretend like that, i--"

"dunno wot y'r talkin' about," ghost chuckles, and you seize when he reaches down between you, cupping you between the legs as he palms at your pussy over your jeans. you keen a little, leaning into his touch, nasty brute pressing two fingers against where you're most sensitive and forcing your ass back against him, where he's hard, chubbed up since he first saw you, leaking into his cargos.

"i-i--" your eyes are wide, but you don't pull away, don't push him back--why am i not running? why can't i leave? what's happening to me--

"i wasn't pretending. were you?"

[loveanddeepdick]

cw: stalking, obsession, borderline insane geto, piv sex, sneaky photos, everything is consensual (kinda)

obsessed!geto who gifts you a small golden heart locket for your one year anniversary. he took you out on a date to your favorite restaurant, setting the mood as best as he possibly could before he took out the small velvet box from his pocket.

“sugu—! is this..?”, your mouth fell agape before he chuckled lowly, shaking his head and grabbing your hand.

“no, no, sweetheart, it’s a necklace,” he opened the box, “and when you open it.. it’s the color of our eyes together”.

your hands flew to your mouth, covering your little squeal before he closed the box again.

obsessed!geto who puts it on when you both get home, standing behind you in front of the mirror as he runs his hands over your shoulders. he leans in, softly planting a kiss on the top of your head before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“you look beautiful”

it wasn’t a lie. to him, you were the epitome of perfection, the way the little gold heart rested on your collarbone, it complimented your eyes in the best way possible. but if he was honest, he didn’t get the locket just for looks, no. it was to make his job easier.

obsessed!geto who was infatuated with you the moment he laid his eyes on you, following you from a distance everywhere you went. your schedule had been burned into his brain like a tattoo, even the small changes going unnoticed from him.

the route you took home, the shortcut you took when your feet hurt, who you hung out with, when your parents visited, he even knew if you window was locked from how it looked from the outside.

he studied the type of guys you liked, breaking into a grin when he realized he was the perfect one for you already, like the red string of fate already tied you two together.

he started his photo collection from the moment you had your first conversation together. he’d run into you at a cafe you visited frequently. you had mistaken him as your friend, talking to him while his back was turned. when he did face you, you turned 10 shades darker, the cup you were sipping from now on the table as your hands came up to your face to hide your embarrassment as you profusely apologized.

he already knew who you were, he’s seen you hang out with satoru and you had other mutual friends. smiling, he reassured that it was just an honest mistake. he’d been fixated on your outfit. noticing that you’d been wearing a shirt of the same band on his shirt. as you left, excusing yourself politely as you grabbed your coffee off the counter again.

picking up his cup, he noticed something off. you left with up his drink instead. pulling out his phone, he took a picture of your drink order. he contained his grin as best as he could when he noticed whatever you had on your lips had left a residue on the cup, bringing it up to his lips as he cherished the remnants of you. he decided on the spot that he had to have more.

obsessed!geto who did have your location after a couple months of dating but he wanted something more. what if you lost your phone? what if it died? he wanted to track you in the most humane way possible, of course. knowing you, you’d never take off a gift from him.

obsessed!geto who watches you move with the necklace from his phone, smiling as he realized the clock hit 12:00pm and you started your lunch break, watching as you walked out the building to him already waiting in his car. he’s a gentleman of course, getting out to open the door for you as you climbed into the passenger seat

“hey beautiful, how about we hit that new ramen place for lunch, yeah?”

“ooh! sounds good! hm.. you get spicy and i get savory so we can balance!”, you smiled warmly, buckling yourself in.

geto could only chuckle, nodding as he rested his hands onto the wheel.

my perfect girl

obsessed!geto who goes crazy when he sees the necklace bounce with your tits when he fucks you. his favorite position switching from prone bone to missionary since he gets the best view of the necklace bouncing in the valley of your pretty tits.

he reaches out, one hand on your hip and one caressing your chest, his hands running over your mounds and your collarbone all the way to the necklace as he marvels in the sight. he leans in closer, trapping you under his arms as his cock reaches deeper inside you.

“my pretty girl, fuck, you look so good like this, can feel this messy fuckin pussy squeezing me so good”

“s-sugu! m’gonna cum!”, you hiccup as the sight of him caging you in his arms has your pussy gushing.

“cum for me, cum on my cock, beautiful—fuck, yeah just like that.. i can feel her so good, who does this fucking pussy belong to?”

“you, sugu, you! fuck—!”

“damn right, you belong to me”

[dumbbitchgalore]

Soon-to-be Single!Price sending this to his soon-to-be cheater wife to show her how good the new babysitter is taking care of him (🌽 link)

John’s intentions with bringing you into the house as a babysitter were genuinely pure. He wanted you to help fill the void inside his twin daughters’ hearts ripped open by their absent, whoring mother. 

One night he finds himself scrolling through the Au Pair website looking for the suitable candidate and he finds you. A foreigner, good with kids, previously working as a tutor and now currently on a gap year from studying at university to give a helping hand mouth and pussy to families like his. And that is how he brought you into his home. 

John’s wife seemingly did not care, as long as her kids didn’t bother her, she couldn’t care about who’s taking care of them. 

Day by day, John becomes enamoured by you. The way you took care of his kids was pulling at his heart strings, daring him to get closer to you, to get to know you better and possibly become friends so that he has someone to take to. That is his intention, right?

He learns your favourite colour, food, the flowers you like, the designer items on your wishlist hoping to be rich enough to buy them. He memorises your features. Your perfect lips, manicured hands, your prim and proper appearance in front of him is almost like a facade to protect yourself. 

And it is, you try to protect yourself from John, to keep a distance and always be polite with an air of professionalism. You can’t let him know that your head over heels to hear his gravelling voice, to stare at his cerulean eyes or even just to get close enough to smell his cologne. You definitely didn’t want him to think of you as a strange au pair that he regretted choosing. 

Often you and John would find yourselves alone in the home after tending to the girls and putting them to bed and going to the kitchen to enjoy a snack before bed. Tonight, you find John leaning against the kitchen counter sipping on a glass of whiskey as you go to open the fridge. You know, politely acknowledging his presence. 

“Care to share a glass with me?” John’s smooth voice engulfs your presence. 

You turn back looking at him as you give him a soft smile, “Thank you for the offer Mr Price, but-”

Before you finish, he puts his hand up signalling you to stop talking and sighs before taking another sip of his drink. 

“Turning down a man going through a divorce?” 

Your eyes widen at his question, “You and Mrs Price are-”

“That slut doesn’t deserve to be called by my last name.” He says curtly. 

You nod, making your way next to him and pouring yourself a drink and taking a sip, the liquid deliciously burning down your throat.

“I’d appreciate you not telling the girls, I don’t want them worrying.”

“Of course, sir-”

“John. Just John is fine.”

“Alright, John.” You say and John swears that you were a siren in disguise at that moment. Your sweet voice calling his name like a holy man being lulled in by a succubus. 

A few too many drinks later, you find yourself in such a predicament. On the floor, watching yourself in the mirror as you sloppily makeout with John’s cock as he records you. Suckling his head, you drool onto the floor, laving it as your tongue prods at his slit, guttural moans spewing out of his mouth encouraging your ministrations. 

You let go of his tip with a ‘pop’ noise, making your way down his length. Long wet drags on your tongue along John’s veins cause him to shiver in delight, begging his body not to cum too early on. 

His voice cuts through the air of whimpers and wet sucks as John addresses his wife in the video. 

“You could never suck my cock like this and you’ve given yourself wrinkles from the amount of dumbfucks you blew after work.”

John forcefully takes your mouth off his cock, halting the momentum of pleasure inside of him. He grabs your chin harshly, making you face the camera. Your lips red and bitten from his kisses, drool staining your chin as you look at the camera doe-eyed and needy.

“This sweet little thing takes care of the girls better than you do. She’ll be a better wife than you, ya slag.”

[emmyrosee]

imagine doing a hear me out cake with best friend yuji and putting his older brother sukuna there HELP HEAR ME OUT OKAY-

OH MY GOD YES-

Like you’ve got a ton of little cardboard cutouts of characters and people your mind has deemed worthy of your attention, right?? And you’ve kept him on his toes with a few shockers, like ino and someone who looks just a wee bit too close to nanami, and believe me, he’s got a few shockers up there too.

But then you hesitate. You rock on your heels, and yuuji notices and nods encouragingly, “you’ve got one more yeah? It can’t be that bad.”

So…. You put up a picture of sukuna, cut out from a Polaroid from your birthday party, where the tattooed man flips off the camera, the other arm draped around your shoulder.

Yuuji shrieks.

“YOURE LYING! W H A T?”

“I’m so sorry,” you manage beyond your cackles of laughter. You bury your face in your hands while yuuji screams into his hands. “MY BROTHER?! MY FLESH AND BLOOD?!”

“I can’t help it!” You whine among your laughter. “He’s just a beautiful specimen!”

Yuuji retches.

“The fuck’re you two bitchin’ and whinin’ about?”

You’re so distracted in your own laughter and apologies to yuuji you barely heard the footsteps of none other than sukuna himself, padding into the kitchen. One hand rests on the handle of the fridge, making the intricate ink of his tattoo bulge slightly, and his eyes are firm as he quirks a brow at you both.

“Is that fucking me?”

To your horror, you stop laughing as your brain registers Sukuna’s question. Your cheeks flare in heat, teeth sinking into your lip as you clear your throat softly.

Then, he smirks. He turns to reach into the fridge for a can of soda, closing the fridge with his hip before observing the cake. He nods before turning to look at you, index finger prodding your temple, “living rent free in this bitch, ain’t I?”

You swallow thickly. Sukuna winks at you before leaving to retreat back to his room, fingers cracking open the soda in the distance.

“How could you be into him!” Yuuji whines. “I mean, come on! It couldn’t have been choso? Me? You went with the worst sibling? The one with the most gnarly attitude and god, his farts-“

“Into him?” You ask yuuji. Then, you grin.

“I’m gonna marry him one day, Yuuji.”