#reason it would be out on the floor like this is if his wrist pocket was dispelled and the only reason that would happen

[magiclwritings]

Cesare couldn't be entirely sure if his mouth was hanging wide open still or if he'd managed to get ahold of himself. And seeing as Quintus hadn't made a rude ass comment about him drooling all over the floor, he figured he was safe. Though he did bring up his arm to rub his mouth against the back of his wrist before he went back to work on their meal. And that was purely to buy him time to think about what had been asked. Because for a short period of time he'd forgotten that they'd been separated. That this wasn't a normal day for them. He's going to leave again. It was also then he'd really just started to realized just how much really had been through without each other.

Cesare cleared his throat, looking down at the two pizzas laying on the counter before him. A part of him wanted to blush at the accusation Quintus had thrown at him. Not really an accusation but still. It wasn't like he thought that he'd be standing face to face with this man ever again. Why should he be embarrassed with how he decided to survive without him? "I really don't think much has changed. A couple of new places have a mud patch or two." He told him in earnest. Because in all honesty, neither he nor Max really found a reason to change much of anything. Updated photos had been added throughout the house of both their families. A few patches here and there for a couple drunk shenanigans. One of them wasn't even really either of their faults. They'd take that truth to their graves. "My mom insisted that we get a cleaning service." He said without any thought to it, "Probably one of the only reasons it's still standing." He joked, laughing softly as he shifted the pizzas onto their own sheet and popped the pair in to heat up.

He turned around to see Quin sitting like on the counter like it was the most natural thing in the world. Cesare's heart swelled at the sight of it and it took everything in him not to sigh out in contentment at all of this. "Well," He trailed off, pushing off from his space and moved to stand just a few paces from Quintus. "Aside from me claiming one of the spare rooms. It's two doors down from yours." Not that he felt like he needed to clarify that location to him. But he had walked in on Cesare asleep on his childhood bed so perhaps it wasn't the worst idea. Cesare pulled his phone from his pocket and set a timer for the pizzas and it was then he'd realized that he didn't have a picture of Quin. Well, he did but none that were just his. He clicked his tongue twice and selected the camera app.

A smile dawned his face as Quin focused in the screen of his phone and Cesare even zoomed in slightly. You could make out the little wisps of hair gently touching his ears and those long lashes would brush his cheeks when he blinked. "Q?" He asked, quickly snapping a picture just as he looked over him. The flashed was quick and he was quite happy with the outcome of that. However, he was quick to grin triumphantly over at Quintus and pocketed his phone before the other could even think of moving from his position on the counter. "Just in case." He told him, moving to stand before him just then. "I might faint if you take off for that long again." There was truth in his words and he knew it hadn't been his fault but still. Cesare needed something of him now that he knew this him was possible.

He folded his arms together over his chest and deeply inhaled, loving the scent of their pizzas coming to a bubble in the oved. "And no." He glanced back at Quintus, smiling wickedly. "There isn't a shrine for you in there." His weight settled back against the counter and Cesare stretched into a more comfortable lean. "Don't need to when there's a tomb down the hall." He wasn't sure that was the best joke to be making given the circumstances. He cleared his throat and shuffled his weight uncomfortablly. "You keep asking what's changed but Max and I didn't leave." He tried not to sound confrontational but he couldn't help but want to know the same things that Quin did. Which was everything about him now. "You tell me something about you now. Something I wouldn't already know." He held his finger up, knowing damn well he'd still try and wriggle out. "Or something I could guess fairly easily." He knew he had to be specific or Quin would wiggle through the cracks like he'd always been so good at doing. "Tell me something about you now. We can make a game of it if you want to." Take the bait.

Quin huffed and pushed him off of the counter. Fuck Cesare and his generosity, his puppy dog eyes,  and his cooking skills. The fact that he could just whip up a pizza from scratch was the most horrible thing about him that Quin had ever come to know. He remembered when Max and Cesare first became friends and made mudpies in the backyard after it rained. The two of them, wet and muddy, would come in their creations and try to convince Quin and Max’s mom to serve them for dinner. There was one year when Max pushed Cesare, and the mudpie went flying, hitting Quin and coating him from head to toe. Quin fumed red with embarrassment and then cried for hours. 

It's wild how time changes everything. 

He hip-checked Cesare out of his way and stood before the pizza. “I like banana peppers,” He said casually, dipping his fingers into Cesare's jar and grabbing a handful. Quin took his time placing them around the pizza. Once he was satisfied, he turned to look at the various other pizza toppings Cesare had pulled. “Oh,” He said, tone thick with disappointment. “This won’t do.” Quin stepped around Cesare and went directly to the pantry. He rummaged through it until he pulled out an unopened jar of pineapple rings. Then he rummaged through drawers, pulling them open one by one until he found a can opener. 

After opening the can and draining the extra juice, Quin returned to Cesare. He pulled out the rings ring by ring, placing them on half of the pizza. When he was done, he sprinkled more cheese on his side and clapped his hands. A job well done. But he turned to look at the utter horror on Cesare’s face. Quin raised a brow challengingly and popped half of a pineapple ring into his mouth, chewing slowly. He swallowed the mouthful, then smirked. “Don’t start with me. Pineapple and its sweetened benefits are important to me.”

With his pizza completed, Quin left Cesare to handle the other one. He washed his hands and returned to the counter, pulling himself back up on top of it while he waited for Cesare to pop the pizzas in the oven. "What else is different in the house?" He asked, staring down at his knees. "I know my room has remained untouched except for you hanging out there. What about everything else?"

[katlovesdbh]

A Very Cursed Thought;

So, Essek has his wrist pocket spell, yes? I have read a few fics where it could be dispelled, but most usually in the Fanon I've seen it has been ruled that it drops when he is killed.

Please please imagine that Essek gets got (and no worries, he has 2 (two) Clerics and a whole rest of the Nein invested in his eventual survival, he'll be fine), but yeah he Gets Got and, as the stuff spills out of his dimensional wrist pocket, please imagine the sound Sonic the Hedgehog Makes when he gets got and the golden rings pop out.

That is all XD

[take-it-on-the-run]

And I Love Her

Sam Winchester x Reader

The reader and Dean are being tortured by Gordon Walker because of her relationship with Sam, and all they can do is hope he'll get there in time.

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Torture, graphic depictions of being cut into, descriptions of gore and severe bodily harm, Sam Winchester is out of character depending on who you ask

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! Can I request a Dean and/or Sam Winchester (sepperate) x fem! Reader set in season two, with an established relationship, where it's like when Gordon kidnaps Dean, but instead of just Dean he also kidnaps reader. (I can imagine if it's a Dean x reader Gordon uses reader to get Dean to not try anything, and if it's a Sam x reader Sam just going even more ballistic than he originally does in the show). Thank you!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Beatles title. My first Sam fic! Honestly, it was really hard writing this one for some reason, and after five revisions I'm still not completely in love with it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and heed the warnings! Do not read if this will make you uncomfortable!

Sam Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Gordon stared blankly at the wall in front of him while you tugged at the ropes on your wrists. A bandana was tied tightly around your mouth that tasted like dirt and your own blood. Dean was tied up to the left of you in a similar state, and both of you were staring down Gordon like it would kill him.

Traps lined every entrance from the doors to every small crack in the wall. Sam was powerful, but you doubted he could break through solid brick. Grenades, tripwire, even a shotgun trap that looked like something straight out of a movie; Gordon wanted Sam dead at all costs.

You knew your boyfriend would come to you and Dean’s rescue, but damn was this cutting it close. Gordon had already tried his best with Dean, but when it was your turn, he took his sweet-ass time.

He punched you, kicked you, even spit on you. Now, you tried your best to not scream as he dragged a knife against the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder.

You failed.

Biting down on the bandana, a muffled scream ripped through your lungs. You tried focusing on Dean, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes which were spilling over with more tears than you thought were in your body.

You could feel your blood dripping down your back and your chest, slithering its way to the floor as Gordon wiped his blade with the rag in his back pocket. He wrenched your head to the side, forcing the fresh wound close and for more tears to streak down your face.

He repeated his process on you a few times.

Your arms.

Your hands.

Your legs.

Every time somehow hurt more than the last, the hunter pulling open your skin and snapping it back together like a rubber band. Your vision was spotty, but you held steadfast to the thought that your boyfriend would be here any minute to save the day like he always did.

Gordon took a step back, wiping sweat and blood from his face and arms. He looked down at you with a glare that you’ve held plenty of times for the less-than-human creatures in the world. You guessed that, in his eyes, you, Sam, and Dean, were held in a similar regard.

Snaps.

Taunts.

Cracks.

Screams.

All because you fell in love with someone born under a bad sign.

You didn’t regret meeting Sam. Kissing him, falling for him, even the idea of just having him in your life was enough for your mind to justify the situation you were in. It wasn’t his fault you were having your life drained out of you minute by minute, and you hoped he would be smart enough to know that.

“Sam’s going to be here any minute, you know. Gotta convince himself he’s the hero of this story, and I’m the big,” Gordon turned to you, knife in hand, “bad, evil dragon. But I’m not the one with demon blood, am I, Y/N?” He placed the edge of the blade against the bottom of your chin. You could feel the cold steel heavy against your skin, and any sudden move would surely spill even more of your blood.

Dean glared at Gordon, his face shades of purple and blue, which mirrored the pain you felt along your entire body. Gordon dug the knife into the bottom of your chin, piercing your skin ever so slightly, but not enough to fatally wound you. Your mind was trying hard to hold onto the cracks of reality that remained in your vision; the smell of the dingy house you were in, the feeling of the carpet making contact with your boots, anything that wouldn’t send your consciousness reeling over was enough of an anchor for you to hang onto.

Gordon walked away from the two of you, returning to his position of peering out one of the boarded-up windows in wait for Sam. You glanced at Dean, which granted you a glance back from him. His eyes were dry, but they held enough behind them to let you know what he was thinking. Sam was going to burst into this booby-trapped hellhole, and Dean could do nothing but blame himself.

It’s all your fault, really, a thought that smashed through what you knew was the truth said.

This isn’t any of our faults, you told it back, wanting to tell Dean the same. Sam wasn’t to blame for the two of you being taken, and neither of you was at fault for being used as bait; it all landed in the hands of the rogue hunter who deemed himself holier-than-thou.

Though you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you were starting to resemble a bloody pulp more than a human being. Dean could barely look your way for longer than a second, and deep cuts that surged whether you moved or not continued to scrape away at your consciousness.

Gordon disappeared, and as you tried to turn your head to follow him, you felt a burning pain across your chest. Highlighted by a spurt of blood splattering over your thighs, you wanted to vomit. The top of your head started to feel like it was being lifted off from the rest of your skull, and the black spots in your vision connected at the edges of your eyes.

You grunted, head going slack and opening wounds on the back of your neck. Either spit, blood, or bile dripped out of your mouth, but at that moment you didn’t care- the black at the corners of your eyes bled together, and all you could do was limply hope Sam would find you.

You blinked, slowly, noticing light creeping in from the boarded-up windows. The second thing you noticed was the searing pain in your body, coupled with grunting and what you could guess was a well-landed punch.

“Y/N!” Someone called out to you, but you could barely lift your head to meet their voice. The bandana in your mouth was pulled away and hands cupped your face, warming your skin that was ice cold after losing so much blood.

The hands left your face and moved to the ropes at your wrists, cutting them off quickly and placing your arms in your lap. You forced your eyes up high enough to see it was your hero, Sam, standing before you with tears starting to fill his eyes. If your face would’ve let your smile, you would’ve, but every movement flashed the memory of Gordon cutting into you.

Gordon.

“Where’s-” You managed to sputter out through a sore jaw and a severely dry mouth.

“Dead,” Sam answered coldly. For the first time, you noticed his knuckles were a hue of bright purple, complimented with blood splattering up his arm. Sam moved your arms around his neck and picked you up as gently as he could.

“Dean’s already in the car patching himself up. I’m going to try and lay you down in the back seat so we can get to the closest hospital. I left Gordon in the room by the first door, so keep your head to my chest if you don’t want to see him, okay?” He asked softly. The tears that were in his eyes had faded slightly, but you could see the emotions he’d no doubt try to hide later on. Regret, blame, guilt - the more he looked at you, the more you could sense that your battered state was tearing away at his consciousness. You wanted to reach out, hold his face, and tell him you’d be okay, you’d survived worse, that it wasn’t his fault, but your thoughts were halted by Sam stepping past Gordon’s body.

If you could call it a body, that is.

His nose was sunken into his face enough that his eyes were slightly popping out of their sockets. His mouth had more gums than teeth, which were scattered around the room. He was lying against a dresser, and his limbs were spread out in the wrong directions. You thought you saw a bone, but before you could look closer, Sam turned and shut the door behind you.

Sam laid you across the back seats of the Impala, trying his best to be gentle with the abhorrent number of cuts across your body. You couldn’t guess how the hospital wasn’t going to ask questions, but you hoped the brothers would figure that out. Your head laid in Sam’s lap, and he looked out the window as Dean buried Gordon.

“Sam,” you slowly moved one of your arms to his face, bringing his attention to you, “thank you. You saved us both. You had to do what you had to do.”

Sam smiled but still didn’t say a word as he dipped down and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You wanted to be able to tell him everything your racing mind was coming up with but were beaten by the overwhelming need to not move. Dean climbed into the front seat, beating the gas pedal to the floor and hitting the highway as Sam ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair.

[silverbrain]

I dropped my earring!

How the lads would help you find an earring you dropped... the sole reason being i dropped mine and turned the place upside down for 30 mins to find it (sigh)

Xavier

You’re almost ready for your coffee date with Xavier. He’s already waiting for you on the couch, when you step out, fiddling with your earring.

“I’m ready, I’m ready…”, you hurry along. Xavier opens his mouth to say something, but closes it as he sees you, eyes moving appreciatively over your all-black outfit. You decided to keep it simple but warm, opting for a black turtleneck and black jeans to counter the cold winter temperature.

You step towards the exit before you feel your earring slip past your fingers and drop to the ground. You freeze, before crouching down to find it. Xavier looks at you curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“I dropped my earring! Oh goodness…”, you worry as you rake your hands over the carpet on your floor, hawk eyes trying to locate the shiny piece.

Xavier leans down to join you. Soon, the two of you are on your knees on the living room carpet, searching for your lost earring.

“I can’t lose it…”, you say, worriedly, “I really like it…”

Xavier tries to calm you down. “Don’t worry, it was right here…we’ll find it”, he reassures.

You nod, trying to quell the anxiety rising in your chest, as your hands don’t stop searching for it.

Beside you, Xavier stills suddenly. “Wait”, he says, “switch off the lights”

You stare at him blankly. “Go on”

You stand up and pad across the living room to flick the switch, enveloping the two of you in inky darkness. The next moment, you see a flash of light bang through the space. You stand in the corner, confused till you realise what Xavier is trying to do.

“Found it”, you hear him say. You switch the light back on and walk over to him holding out the small shiny earring in the palm of his hand. “Just shone a little light on it…”

“That’s smart!! I don’t know why I didn’t think of that!”

Xavier smiles, “It’s because you were stressed…come here”

He puts the earring in your ear, holding his hand out to you for the back of the piece. You hand it to him, heart fluttering a little at how close he is.

“There”, he says, happily, “You look pretty”

“Thanks…”, you smile, “Let’s go?”

Rafayel

You’re nearly done getting ready as Rafayel fiddles with the different makeup products on your table. He’s opened and smelled the lip plumper and the blush and you watch him from the corner of your eye, a little bit amused.

You stand up, nearly done, when you realize you’ve forgotten your earrings. You haphazardly put them in, before one of them clatters to the table, amidst the different makeup products.

Rafayel looks up from the lip stick he’s examining in his hand. “Oh no”

You two immediately dive into the table, shifting things around, trying to find it. You get a little too chaotic, and a few things rattle off the table onto the floor below.

“Woah, calm down, cutie, we’ll find it”, Rafayel says, bending down to pick up the bottles.

“Come here”, he says, grabbing your wrist. “You were standing right here”, he says, taking your place, where you stood a few minutes ago. “If you dropped it here…”, he muses. He starts sifting through the things on your table again, movements chaotic and hurried. Before you have time to complain, he holds it up like a prize.

“Found it!!”, he says, handing it to you.

You joyously give him a hug. “Oh my god! You did!”

Rafayel gives you a smile, as he watches you put it on.

“How does it look?”, you ask him.

“Hmm…it’s nice…but your eyes are prettier!”, he says.

You chuckle a little. Rafayel never gives up an opportunity to flirt.

Zayne

“Zayne!”, you exclaim. He has his back turned to you as he replies to a few texts from his colleagues.

“Yeah?”

“I dropped my earring!! I don’t know where it went!”

“Oh…”, Zayne looks thoughtful. He pockets his phone and walks towards you. You’re sitting on the bed, mirror propped up against the headboard. The bed was a mess of random clothes you had pulled out of the closet while trying on different outfits. It was, after all, a dinner with a few of his professors, and you couldn’t help but want to make a good impression.

“Don’t stress, come here”, he says, calm as ever.

You’re still holding your carefully done hair up with one hand as you step to the side. He begins to carefully shake the pieces of clothing out, placing them to the side.

You step forward, joining him, but he resists. “No, no, sweetheart, I’ll look”, he assures you.

He continues to methodically rustle the clothes, his eyes carefully scanning the sheets.

Soon, the clothes are out of the way but the earring is nowhere to be seen. You feel the panic rise as you wonder if you should just wear another pair and look for it later. Your eyes widen in surprise as Zayne lifts up the mattress in a swift motion, checking the headboard of the bed.

“You don’t have to! Let’s just look for it later”, you resign, realizing it was going to be a tough operation.

“Nah…I’m going to find this nuisance of an earring now…”, he says, determined.

He hoists the mattress up on its side and examines the underside of the bed. You shift you weight uncomfortably, joining him in his search. “Ah!”, he exclaims suddenly, producing the little shiny pearl from under a wooden slat, “here it is!”

You chuckle weakly as he hands it to you. “Are we late?”, you ask, putting in on quickly.

“No”, he assures you, resting his hands on your waist.

Sylus

Sylus walks in to find you unusually frustrated. “Something bothering you?”, he asks.

“I…uh…”, you answer distractedly, already searching for your lost earring, “I lost my earring”

He raises an eyebrow. “Did you lose it just now?”, he asks

“Yeah…it fell…”, you say, a little annoyance creeping into your voice.

“It’s okay sweetie, we can just buy you a new pair”

You huff, his suggestion only contributing to your irritation. “It’s not that! It’s special!”

“Oh?”, you can practically hear the question in his voice, but he doesn’t ask, and you don’t elaborate.

He joins you in looking through the various items on and under your dressing table, but it is clear he’s distracted.

“Why is it…special?”, he asks, finally, unable to contain his curiosity.

“I…”, you try to avoid his gaze, “I bought it at a fair…it’s like a prized…thing”

“Okay”, he says, understanding. Soon, he begins lifting random objects with his Evol and tossing them around.

“Can I at least have a description of what I’m looking for?”, he asks you.

You feel al slight blush creep on to your cheeks as you describe it, “It’s a small red gem…shaped like a dagger”. You hold out the other of its pair on your open palm. Sylus straightens up from his position on the floor to take a look at it. His eyes widen in realization.

“Oh, it’s this?”, he asks, looking into your eyes.

“Yeah…”

You had bought the pair from a random shop in Charon East while on a night trip with Sylus. In fact, he had helped you choose between this and another pair. It was dear to you, but admitting it felt a little too…embarrassing? Vulnerable? You’re not sure.

It didn’t matter, though. What matters is, you had to find it. You wouldn’t be able to sit still if you didn’t. You shift your eyes back to the floor. Too bad Sylus had red carpet everywhere.

“How about I use a magnet?”, he asks.

“Earrings aren’t magnetic, are they?”

“Expensive earrings aren’t magnetic…this on the other hand…”, he says. He pulls out his phone and calls someone. “Yeah…bring a powerful one...Yeah”

He sits down on a nearby chair. You sit down on the bed, dangling kicking your feet restlessly. A few minutes pass.

“I didn’t know you liked these that much…”, he begins, “I’m touched”

You open your mouth, before his phone pings. Sylus leaves to meet someone, probably one of the twins before returning with a button sized magnet… or so it seems. “Stand back”, he instructs.

You didn’t expect him to resonate with the magnet. He holds it in his palm, red mist swirling around his hands, before a few things shift. A few safety pins and clips come flying as they stick to the magnet, so does a little ruby red dagger earring. “There it is”, he says, disconnecting the trinket and handing it to you.

“How about you wear another pair of earrings tonight and give these to me?”, he asks, after a moment.

You look at him in confusion.

“What do you need them for?”

“I’m going to get them re-made, with real gems this time”, he says, eyes fixated on your reflection in the mirror as he stands behind you, “After all, you deserve only the best things from me”

[mattybsgroupie]

— assignment ★ matt sturniolo

— CONTENTS: fwb; fingering (f receiving); boob sucking/nipple play (f receiving); (slightly) mommy kink; sub!matt

— NOTES: GOOD EVENING MY DARLINGS i wanted to apologize for the lack of sub matt. yes i was planning on posting cowboy!matt BUT i couldn’t resist his new glasses. and i might turn sub!nerd matt into a series. who knows. you've read the previous part, you know the deal. not proofread but enjoy anyways! love you guys so much, thankful for each and every one of you!

i heard those same three rhythmic, now familiar knocks on my door. i already knew it was matt, always showing up earlier than what we agreed on. this time, i actually needed his help to record a video for an assignment our professor had given. i quickly got up from my bed, dragging my feet to the door and opening it.

i rested half of my body on the wood, tilting my head as i greeted matt with a smile. “you always show up earlier” i chuckled, letting him walk inside. matt seemed shy, as usual, but not so hesitant. “i mean, you called. of course i came” he said as he placed his books on my study table and left his backpack on the floor.

“you’re such a sweetheart, matt” i locked the door, making my way near him. i noticed that he froze with my statement, not quite sure of what to do. “have you finished yours already?”

“yeah, chris filmed it for me” he spoke, standing still on his feet while checking me out from head to toe. his eyes landed on the skirt i purposefully chose, the shortest i owned. it had plaid fabric and it could barely cover my thighs, let alone my ass. if i bent over, both my panties and ass would be on full display to him, along with my with white thigh highs. 

“good boy” i said as if it wasn’t that much of a big deal — as if he didn’t spend hours calling himself a good boy for me the last time he was here. “so, where do you think i should stay? do they care about light and stuff?” i asked, playfully posing. he snapped out of his trance and grabbed the cellphone from his pockets, mindlessly scrolling through the screen.

“no, not really” matt answered, cheeks flushed red. suddenly, he could no longer look me in the eyes, his blue orbs traveling to all the corners of my dorm. “wherever you’re comfortable, i guess”

i positioned myself and began to speak after he nodded, indicating my cue. i spoke what i had practiced several times, but having matthew staring at me like that made it incredibly difficult. i could feel the words vanishing from my brain as his blue eyes pierced through me, my palms becoming sweaty from the stress. i stuttered and that was enough to lose my line of thought, bringing both of my hands to my face, attempting to hide my mistake.

“no, you were doing great!” matt said, pausing the video and placing his phone on the table. he quickly got up from his chair, walking towards me.

“i'm embarrassed!” i blurted out, attempting to apologize beforehand.

“there’s no reason to be embarrassed. not a pretty girl like you” matt chuckled, his fingers touching my wrists and removing my palms from my face. now certainly my cheeks were flushed red — but i'd never let him know how deeply he affected me.

i took a deep breath, encouraged by his words, and adjusted myself again, finally managing to say what i had planned. after a while, i finished with a smile on my face, waiting for matt's signal, who once again gave me a nod. 

“yeah it's perfect— you're perfect” he smiled back, inviting me to sit next to him. “do you want me to… edit this for you?”

“would you do that for me?” i asked, my hand resting on his thigh. matt tilted his head, startled by the sudden touch, staring at me through his glasses. “yes, of course! anything for you!” a grin appeared on my face as i noticed how he shifted in his seat, trying to hide the growing tent under his jeans. 

“i like your new glasses, matt” i whispered, resting my elbow on the table and leaning my head against my hand, admiring how cute he looked when he was nervous. i could see his jaw clenched, his posture straight, the tiny drips of sweat that ran from his forehead to the shade of his newly shaved beard, his fingertips frantically typing something on my laptop, which he didn't even ask permission to open. he was trying so hard. 

“t-thank you” matt mumbled, still not looking at me in the eyes. i brought my free hand up to his cheek, my thumb gripping his chin and tilting his face towards me. matt's lips parted in awe and he gulped before letting out a deep sigh, staring at me through his lenses. “i like your... skirt” he confessed, ears burning with embarrassment.

“oh? this one?” i looked down, admiring my own legs crossed in an indecent manner in front of him. “what do you like about it?”

“just— how it fits” he wouldn’t take his eyes off of the white lace above my knees. “your t-thighs” he whispered. 

“do you miss 'em, matty?” i questioned, getting up from the chair and standing in front of him. i didn't loosen my touch, forcing matt to face my breasts, not sure where to look at. he gripped the corner of the table with one hand, pouring all his desperation and arousal into the old wood.

“yes, fuck.” matt nodded eagerly. “you just look so good”

“yeah? that’s why you came here for? to have another taste?” i teased, resting my hands over his shoulder as he clenched his thighs together in a failed attempt to hide his pathetic boner.

“no— i mean, yes!” he said, making me chuckle at his confusion. “just… just wanna be good for you. i’ll always do whatever you want me to” 

“oh, you poor little thing. whatever i want?” i asked one last time, finally getting closer to him. i put my thighs on each side of his body, gradually lowering my weight on his lap. matt sighed and immediately took his hands to my waist, groping my flesh. 

i smirked at his desperation and allowed my digits to wander across his face, brushing over his lips and tugging at his lower lip before reaching for his glasses, removing the frame and placing it on myself. the prescription wasn't too high, at least it wouldn't make me dizzy and i would be able to have some fun. 

matt seemed to enjoy the sight, feeling my breasts pressed against his chest and my ass rested on his thighs as i put on his glasses. i could feel his cock twitching in his pants, waiting for some relief, anything from me. 

“fuck” matt spoke as i brought his hands to the hem of my t-shit, granting him permission to remove it. he tossed the fabric somewhere around the room, leaving me with my ridiculously short skirt.

matt’s blue eyes widened after seeing my bare breasts for the first time — maybe it was the first time he had seen any boobs in person. “please, please, can i suck them?” he asked, shoving his face in between them while still waiting for my approval.

“go ahead” i cooed and he rapidly tilted his face, giving my nipple a long kitten lick. it was almost like he was back at my pussy, carefully analyzing the area and testing the waters, until he had the confidence to actually do something.

for a virgin, matt was way too good with his tongue. the muscle swirled around my hardened nub, his large hand groping my other tit as he whispered “thank you” over and over again.

matt wasn’t going to stop until i told him to, finally latching his lips around my nipple and starting to suck harshly, desperately, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth. my fingers tangled on his brown locks, a moan slipping from the back of my throat when he grazed his teeth on my sensitive skin.

“you wanna make me feel good, babyboy?” i asked amidst heavy sighs. matt didn’t stop sucking, looking up and nodding his head — but he knew he would have to use his words.

“yes mom-” matt stopped himself, realizing what was about to come out of his mouth. “yes” he repeated, hoping i wouldn’t have noticed.

“finish what you were saying” i commanded and he whined, embarrassed to speak the words on the tip of his tongue out loud.

“yes, mommy. wanna make you feel good” matt spoke, his messy hair, swollen lips and sweaty forehead making him even sexier. “but i d-don’t know how to”

“there you go. wasn’t so hard, was it?” i questioned rhetorically, removing the brown strands from his face. “i’ll teach you, sweetie. that’s what we’re for, right?” he nodded before lowering his hands to my ass, groping the flesh and opening my cheeks. 

one his hands managed to slip under my skirt, finally touching my soaked panties. he traveled his fingers across the fabric, trying to find my sweet spot. maybe he knew where it was, maybe he just wanted to tease me, but it didn’t take long until his digits brushed over my clit, making me gasp. he pulled my panties aside, just enough to get two of his fingers to stroke my pussy and play with my wet folds — how could he be so good?

i didn’t have to ask, he knew how much i needed him inside of me. my throbbing cunt rubbing against his jeans revealed my desperation, matt slowly bringing his middle finger to my entrance, circling it before pushing it inside.  

“good boy. now move slow for me, yeah? in and out of mommy” i praised, allowing him to start fucking me — but he was smarter than that. instead, he curled his finger inside of me, quickly meeting the sweet spot he’d been craving all along. “f-fuck! right there!” i moaned, throwing my head back when his thumb reached my clit.

it felt so good to grind my hips against his lap, frantically chasing for my orgasm as he pounded inside of me. “mommy, you- mhm!” matt whined, grabbing my attention. “you’re humping my cock mommy, it hurts so bad” he pleaded with needy, puppy eyes.

“didn’t you say you were gonna be a good boy for me?” i asked, starting to bounce on him. matt squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed with having to do so much at once.

“yes! ah— -i am!” he moaned, taking advantage of my distraction and slipping another finger inside. i groaned loudly as i felt the knot on my lower belly begging to be released. “mommy, ‘m gonna…”

“don’t be so fucking pathetic, matthew” i said one last time, suddenly feeling a different wetness under me that wasn’t mine.

matt came untouched.

i could feel my walls squeezing his fingers, my wetness leaking down his hand. this threw me over the edge, my orgasm washing over me as i panted heavily, my entire body trembling over him as the pleasure took over me.

i held his shoulders as i came back from my high, feelings his kisses across my breasts, going upwards to my neck and my face before matt removed his fingers off me, raising his hand to his mouth. matt sucked his own digits, having another taste of me and taking his glasses back so he could see how fucked out i looked. i sealed our lips together, silently thanking matt, who soon decided to hide his face on the crook of my neck.

“matt, look at me” i called after coming back to my senses, scratching his back. 

“i came in my pants” he mumbled, not being able to look at me. “‘m embarrassed”

“if you wanna know” i started, grabbing his attention. “i think it was really hot” i smirked at him, watching his cheeks becoming red once again. he looked down to see the huge wet patch in his pants, denying with his head.

“why don’t you finish editing the video for me” i lifted his face, both palms cupping his cheeks. “and when you’re done i’ll take care of you and the mess you made?” 

matt nodded eagerly. he wasn’t only a good tutor, but an excellent student.

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Dylan O'Brien x Reader (Female) Synopsis: Traveling. Any annoying but necessary part of any actors job for the non-traveling party. But the welcome homes? They are oh so fucking sweet. Tags: it's filth with some cute plot, shower sex, kisses, more banter than is reasonable in polite society Rating: Explicit (obviously) Author’s Note: Y'all listen. I know. Okay. It's been a while, and to be honest? I started this in fucking January, but hey. It's here now, right? We're all chill? No one's upset? Good. LOVE YOU!

He’d been away for days, but it felt like weeks. Your feed has been covered in photos of him. The algorithms have you pretty much figured out. You’d been keeping up with his interviews, watching clips of his adorably awkward award acceptance speech. It wasn’t a surprise award, but it didn’t matter that he was prepared for it. He was incapable of being acknowledged for his achievements without turning into the equivalent of a turtle hiding in its shell. You’d have reached out to hold his hand and ground him if you could, but you’d been here. Alone. Missing him. But all that was soon to change.

He was on his way home. Annoyingly, his flight had been delayed, but as you stared up at the JFK arrivals board and it read: ‘Arrived’, you couldn’t help the bubbling up of excitement and giddy nervousness. It seemed like Tony was picking up on it as well because he stood against your leg, pawing at your thigh until you picked him up. He’d been missing his dad and had taken more comfort in your presence since he’d left. 

Your ears perked when the announcement that the baggage from his flight was about to begin its rounds through the baggage claim area. Your phone vibrated in the thigh pocket of your leggings. You gave Tony a quick squeeze before setting him back on the floor and taking your phone out. You smiled at the preview of the text you’d just received before you swiped to see the rest. 

‘Your fine ass better be waiting for me down there.’ 

You smirked before typing out a teasing reply. 

‘Got stuck in traffic a few times but I’m here. I hate Newark btw.’ 

You watched the dots appear and couldn’t help the audible laugh that escaped when you read his next message. 

‘Newark!?’ 

You interrupted him with a quick ‘I’m joking!!!’ before you could see what he was typing next. Then after a brief pause, the dots reappeared before his reprimand. 

‘You know you’re this close to the find-out stage of fuckin around?’ 

‘Oh? What if that’s exactly what I want?’ 

‘👀’

‘Not that I want to rush through the fuckin around part 😏’  

“I’ll be taking my sweet fucking time…don’t worry.”

You startled at his audible reply and your eyes shot up from your phone and met his as Tony pulled at the leash in your hand to reach him. He looked a bit tired but happy. His smile was wide across his stubbled face, quirking up at the corner when you smiled back. 

“Hey buddy!” he said, handing you his pillow before bending down to scoop Tony up into his arms. “I missed you!” he swooned in the adorable baby voice he reserved for his furry son. “Did you miss me too?” He rubbed Tony’s head and then his tummy. “Such a good boy!” 

You smiled at the two of them, pulling Tony’s leash from your wrist and handing it to Dylan. Tony would be stuck to him like glue now. 

“Hey, baby,” he said softly before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips. One just long enough to make you the tiniest bit dizzy and eager for more. 

You blinked away distracting thoughts. “Do you have much luggage?” 

Dylan shook his head. “Just this,” he said pointing at his backpack, “and one bag on the turnstiles.” 

“Should be over there, they just announced it,” you said, taking a few steps toward the baggage claim area.

“Nice!” he said, hiking Tony up onto his shoulder a bit before he followed after you. 

His bag passed in front of him and he hefted it off the belt and popped out the handle and you took it from him so he could focus on the excited ball of fur in his arms. You set his pillow on it and wheeled it behind you toward the cab that was waiting out front. As much as you hated early morning airport runs, you were glad his 4 AM delayed arrival made the whole airport experience a lot smoother. Fewer people. Less traffic. You’d been able to get in and out without so much as a sideways glance from anyone else. 

“Hey you,” he said as he slumped in the seat next to you, Tony taking up the little bit of space between you. 

“Hey,” you said, smiling back at him. 

It was just after 5 AM and you’d only gotten a couple hours of sleep. Originally, he was supposed to have gotten in at midnight and had been scheduled to arrive at Newark, but his flight had been canceled. When he called you to let you know, you were already getting ready to catch the Uber you’d called to take you to the airport. You had a habit of being too punctual. But that also meant that you had a hard time settling and only managed a short nap before you got up to head to JFK. You were a bit tired, but feeling his warmth next to you for the first time in a while was enough of a comfort to fight off the droop of your sleepy eyes. You wanted to see his smile, the upturned tip of his nose, the lopsided smile he sported as he pet Tony. Sleep could wait. 

The drive back to the loft was rather uneventful. Traffic was light, you weren’t sure you’d ever made it the Carey Tunnel faster than you just had. When you hopped out of the car, Dylan gathered his bags from the back of the car and you headed up to the apartment. Home. It was always a comfortable place, but it was warmer when he was in it.

“Smells nice in here…” he said with a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as his shoulders sagged in relaxation. “I missed it.” 

“And I missed you.” You stepped into his space and wrapped your arms around his waist and he quickly pulled you to his chest, looping his arms over your shoulders and pressing a kiss into your hair. 

“You did, huh?” he chuckled, the heat of his exhaled breath warming your skin. 

“Mhm…” you hummed, laying your cheek against his chest. The loft was dimly lit by a single lamp near the sofa in the living room and the streetlights that filtered in through the large windows. It added to the comfort you felt in his arms. 

“I missed you more,” he whispered.

“Impossible.” 

He sighed out a long breath, holding you tight to his chest before he pulled back, his hands clasped around your waist, eyes locked to yours. The warm, honey-brown hue of them sent a shiver down your spine, of course, it didn’t help that he’d begun to work his hands under the hem of your shirt, his fingertips pressing just a little more firmly into the bare skin covering your ribs when he leaned down to kiss you. 

His lips were insistent, the kiss at the airport clearly not satiating the need that had built during your time apart. It was a comforting reminder that his infatuation with you must be at least somewhat comparable to your own. 

You moaned when his lips wandered along your jaw and latched to your throat just below your ear. Not to be outdone and wanting a little audible thrill of your own, you were satisfied at the deep groan that emanated from the back of his throat when one of your roaming hands slipped down between your bodies to graze across the front of his thigh until it was cupping him through his sweatpants. 

“Definitely missed that,” he breathed out across your collarbone before pushing your hair back and sliding the collar of your shirt aside to access more of your skin. 

You laughed softly before it morphed into a half-whispered moan of his name when his teeth grazed along the sensitive skin above your breast. “Fuck…” you breathed, squeezing your hand around him eliciting an appreciative grumble from him that you felt vibrate the aching bit wet skin he’d been sucking on your chest. 

When you released your grip to slip your hand behind the waistband of his sweats, he grabbed your wrist. “Not yet…” he chuckled when he pulled back to see you scowling at him. “Don’t worry,” he said, smiling at you, brushing an errant hair back from the place where it hung in your eyes, “I’m gonna make you scream…” 

You swallowed thickly. 

“I’d just rather not reek like a man who’s known only seat 23A for 10 hours when I do it.” 

You chuckled softly. “Well…” you smiled back before reaching both hands around behind him, “then you better get this,” you squeezed his ass, “fine thing in the shower then.” You gave him a gentle spank. 

He laughed and pressed a kiss into your hair. “Thirsty little monster,” he said, running his hand down your arm. “Join me?” he said, pleading gaze meeting yours. 

You nodded and he took your hand, lacing your fingers together and leading you through the apartment toward the bathroom. The gentle squeeze of his hand in yours sent a satisfying ripple of warmth through your body. Just as you’d made it through the door to the bathroom, you tugged on his hand and swung his body to pin him against the counter of the vanity. 

He let out a soft huff at the gentle impact and smiled down at you as you grabbed at the hem of his shirt and yanked it roughly up over his body. His bare chest heaved as your eyes roved over him, your hands following your gaze across his pecs, through the soft hair, down his abs, settling on the waistband of his sweats before you began to crouch in front of him as you slid them down his thighs to pool at his feet. 

You looked at him from between his thighs and watched as his brown eyes turned near-black, crouching there longer than was necessary to achieve the task, fluttering your lashes at him.

“Fucking tease…” he muttered under his breath before he hauled you up in front of him and stripped your top off, tossing it across the room before he latched onto your throat and bit down. 

While you writhed in his arms, his hands warmed up your back until his fingers worked open the clasp of your bra. He slipped his fingers under the straps and slid them free of your shoulders and let the garment fall to the floor. 

“Mmm…” he mused, looking down at your chest before he leaned forward and captured your lower lip between his teeth and pulled it back slightly before releasing it to kiss down the column of your throat. He cupped you breast and brought his lips to the peak and flattened his tongue in a wide sweep before sealing his lips to suck your nipple until it was taut and pebbled.

“Dylan…” you groaned, your hands tangling into his hair.

He held you against his body and swapped your positions until your lower back was pressed against the vanity. He nipped at your chest before he finally pulled back and lifted you to sit on the counter in front of him. He quickly unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them from you, throwing them into a heap with the rest of your discarded clothing. Then he slotted himself between your thighs. “Shower’s right there…” he titled his head in its direction, “and yet here we are…” he smiled, his fingertips trailing down from your arms, along your ribs and waist until they teased at the elastic of the last piece of clothing you were left wearing.  

“Here we are…” you repeated, looking down your body at his hand as it slipped into your underwear. You fell forward into his chest when you felt his teasing, barely there touch where you were now aching to feel it. Your sharp intake of breath didn’t go unnoticed.

He leaned in and grinned against the skin of your throat before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the tendon running the length of it. “Something wrong?” he teased, still not touching you the way you wished he would. 

“Please…” you whispered. 

The little amused noise he made only frustrated you more, because Instead of giving in to your need, he hooked his fingers around the band of your underwear and stepped back from you to slide them free from your legs. He twirled them around his long index finger before letting them slip out of his hands to the floor. His eyes roamed over you, exposed to him now, perched on the counter. “Fucking perfect…” he breathed, giving his head a slight shake.

You flushed under his attentive gaze, your own eyes catching on the obvious sign of his own interest tenting the front of his boxer briefs. “Talkin’ about yourself?” you finally managed. 

He smiled and shook his head. 

“You should be…” you sighed, “but you could stand to be just a bit more naked…” you pointed to his underwear. 

He laughed. “Fair,” he said before turning around to turn on the shower. He looked back at you, smirking as he hooked his thumbs in the band of his boxers. When he slid them down his thighs the need you felt for him was almost unbearable. He held out a hand to help you down. “Time to get you wet,” he said with a smirk. 

“Too late.” 

His brows shot up his forehead. “Fuck… me…” he muttered

You stepped past him, your hands gliding over his naked torso, and into the shower. “That’s the plan.” 

He followed after and closed the door, the glass quickly began to fog with the steam as you stood under the spray of the faucet. Even though you knew the water was hot, it almost felt cool on your heated skin. Dylan watched you as you ran your hands over your body before he reached out, gripping your hips. He shoved you back against the wall and his lips crashed into yours. 

You reached up clasped around his neck, your hands tangling into the wet strands of his hair, deepening the kiss and tasting the faint hint of mint on his tongue. His teeth grazed over your bottom lip, pulling it taut before he kissed along your jawline. 

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath against your throat.

“Soap’s over there,” you sighed, jutting your chin to the shelf in the corner. 

“Right… showering…” his teasing mouth paused and he pulled back from you. “You’re so fucking distracting…” he groaned, his grip on your hips shifting to your ass before he squeezed it in both of his palms. 

You grinned and wet your lower lip with your tongue. 

“Not helping.”

You laughed before you pushed him away enough to grab the body wash from the shelf and squeeze it onto his loofa. “Lemme help then,” you said, gesturing for him to turn around in front of you, the water now striking him in the chest. 

He didn’t protest, and quickly spun around as you took a small step closer, so your wet body was pressed briefly against him before you began to scrub his shoulders and upper back. 

“Mmm…” he hummed, rolling his neck. 

You tickled him enough to raise his arms so you could wash them both thoroughly. You smiled watching him noticeably relax his shoulders. You washed down his back, sliding the loofa down to the dips in his low back and over his perfect ass. 

“Taking your time back there…” he chuckled. 

“Stop having such a nice ass and maybe I’d make quicker work of it.” 

He shook a bit with a contained laugh. “Noted.” 

You finally relented, taking one last look at his soapy cheeks before you reached around to scrub his chest and stomach, not spending too much time before reaching down and squeezing the loofa at his belly button and letting the soap begin to run down his body. Your free hand followed after it until it was teasing at the coarse hair, brushing just where you knew he was dying for you to touch him. 

“Relentless fucking tease–” 

You cut off his complaint by wrapping your hand around his sudsy length and pumping him just once. “You were saying?” you breathed against his back before you kissed his shoulder blade before you pumped him again. 

He groaned, his head falling forward. “I’ll shut up… just don’t fucking stop.” 

You beamed with pride. It wasn’t like he never begged, but it was far less common than your own pleadings that more frequently bounced off the walls of this room. You rewarded its rarity by picking up the pace with your hand, pinning him against you with the other hand pressing against the front of his thigh, the loofa long forgotten at his feet. 

He stuttered forward, one hand coming up to hold his weight against the tiled wall the other grasping gently at your wrist, not stopping you, but guiding your hand. “Fuck,” he cursed, the last consonant of it coming out shuddered and low.

You were growing more and more impatient with each second. The ache between your thighs was forcing you to squeeze them together for some kind of relief. You moaned in frustration, your pace faltering. 

Dylan squeezed your wrist and stilled your hand. “Someone sounds needy…” he whispered, pulling your hand free of him and swapping your positions. He pressed you back against the wall and grabbed your body wash from the shelf, squeezing some into his palm. 

You watched him warm his hands together, lathering the gel into foamy suds in those gorgeous fucking hands that you knew he was about to touch you with. 

He smirked at the audible sound of you swallowing before he cupped one of your breasts, his other hand snaking around you, his fingers teasing the dimples of your lower back. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, his nose nudging your chin up enough for him to run his tongue up the length of your throat before he kissed you. 

Your heart hammered in your chest, your skin pebbled with goosebumps, your body sang under his touch. You’d missed him. God, how you’d missed him. It should be against the Geneva Convention for him to be away from you this long. Torture, pure and simple. But this? This was as close as you could imagine to what it might feel like to be moments from dying of thirst in a vast desert only to stumble into the cool waters of an oasis.

He slid his hand down your body and, without a hint of teasing or pretense, rubbed your clit with the pads of two fingers. 

“Holy. Sh–!” you cussed, only getting half of it out before it devolved into a strangled moan. 

Dylan nudged at your chin as your head lolled in pleasure, his lips skimming across your skin, breathing out praise as he continued to swirl his fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you writhing against him. “Missed the way you sound…” he nipped your neck, “the way you feel…” he groped at your chest again with his free hand, “the way you taste…” he kissed you again, his tongue demanding entry into your mouth. 

His talented fingers had you approaching the edge, that warm feeling building up inside you, that pressure that made you feel like you were electrified. “Dyl… please…” you softly begged when he gave you a moment to finally breathe. 

His lips slipped from yours, your noses touching, both of you panting in the same air. Then you whined when you felt his fingers disappear from you. He stepped back into the stream of water and pulled you with him, kissing you everywhere his lips could reach as the hot spray of the shower rinsed you both clean of suds. 

You looped your arms around his neck and he gripped the backs of your thighs, hauling you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. 

His eyes were wide with the same wonder he somehow still held for you even though he’d had you so many times there was no way to keep count. It made you feel warm and wanted. Desired and beautiful.  

“Could stay in this shower for the rest of my fucking life…” he said as he pinned your back to the wall and bucked up against you, slickening himself in the folds of your body, driving the head of his cock into your already sensitive clit. 

Your eyes rolled back at the contact, your hips rocking forward to meet the roll of his. “We’ll… we’ll get all pruney….” you finally breathed out. 

He laughed against your throat before he kissed, nipped, and sucked what you knew would be an impressive little bruise into your skin. “So be it,” he said, and then he shifted his hips, met your gaze, and slid into you to the hilt. 

The stretch, the fullness, it was almost as shocking now as the first time you’d felt him buried inside you. It was perfection, blissfully indecent perfection. You moaned his name, your fingernails clawing at his shoulders as he began to set a punishing pace, driving up into you hard, rutting his body against yours enough to stimulate you in just the right places, inside and out. 

“Shit!” you swore, letting your head fall back against the tiled wall. 

He fucked into you over and over as you felt yourself edging closer to the brink. You felt your thighs begin to shudder as his pace grew more erratic an unpredictable. 

“So fucking tight…” he groaned before he kissed the valley between your collarbones. 

The strangled need in his voice, the feel of his breath against your skin–all of it coupled with the delicious way the end of his length was pressing into that perfect spot inside you that made you feel like you were losing touch with reality–you were ready. “Fuck, Dyl–” 

He raised one hand to press on your chin enough to force your gaze back to his, the pad of his thumb dragging across your lower lip. 

You moaned and flicked at it with the tip of your tongue. “I’m so close… please!” you begged.

He drove his thumb between your lips and when you sucked it into your mouth, he slipped the hand on your thigh between your legs to rub his finger over your clit just when he drove a final thrust against your g-spot. 

You’d had your fair share of fantastic orgasms at this man’s hands, literally, but this one was up there standing proudly on the podium collecting its medal. It was a rush of pent-up need and desire that washed over you like a crashing tidal wave. Every single cell in your body felt like it was vibrating with pleasure. Your muscles clamped down on him as you felt him join you in his own release. The feel of him spilling into you, the sound of your name falling from his slack lips, making it all so much more intense. It was perfection. Pure and simple. Absolute. Unadulterated. Bliss.

Your chest heaved against his, both of you softly laughing between kisses before you felt him slip free of your body. His hands warmed up your arms before they cupped either side of your neck. 

“I love you so fucking much.” 

You smiled at him, leaning in to run your nose along his throat until your lips were at his ear. “I love you too.” 

He sighed and his lips found yours, but he held back from the kiss long enough to speak. “Hell of a welcome home.” 

[pradaax]

Twisted

Song Mingi x Reader 18+

What could possibly go wrong with sleeping with your boss’ son?

Your red bottoms click as you entered the company, the stares didn't go unnoticed to you. You could say you always did enjoy a bit of attention.

You passed by the security and into the elevator. The doors opened showing the hallway that leads to the office of the man you weren't happy about seeing.

You didn't bother knocking and entered the office, there he was in the chair with his unbuttoned shirt, a drink in his hand and a girl in her bra on the desk "Why are you here?" He clicked his tongue placing his drink down.

"Scram." You demanded, your eyes bruised on the girl who started to pick up her clothes from the floor and ran out the office. You strolled up to the him. "Did he send you?"

You ignored him, your eyes running around the office room that smelt like fresh sex. A disgust look took over your face when your eyes landed on him.

You worked for Mr Song, Mingi’s father. You were loyal to him, he was your role model and you were proud to work for a hard working man who worked so hard to build a company from nothing to where it was now. A big corporation in Korea.

Mr Song was a gentleman but his son was a totally womaniser though that wasn't the only reason why you loathed him it was also the fact that whatever his father built would come down to the ground if Mingi stayed like this.

It was a well known fact that he would always bring in different women to the office almost everyday but no one dared to say anything because the man also had anger issues.

"You need to put a stop to this." You warned throwing the files you were holding on the brown oak desk. "The sales have dropped by 15% and Park’s corporation is no longer wanting to partner." He lazily opened one of the files, scanning it before looking back up you since you were still standing.

The hatred feeling between you two was mutual, you both didn't like each other or even handle being in each other's presence. Mingi didn't like the fact that his own father trusted you more than him or how he treated you as if you meant something more than him.

"This has nothing to do with me, numbers dropped before I was in charge." Mingi’s voice hit your ears and you almost wanted to laugh at the stupid mark he made.

“Stop fooling around, you’re the CEO of Song corporation now. Grow up, Mingi.” Your statement made him poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue and raise a brow. He stood up stepping towards you.

“You have some confidence on you, walking in here telling me what to do. I don’t know if you have been sucking my father’s dick but-”

The slap that had just landed on his face cut him off. He scoffed titling his head, his eyes not leaving yours as your ones danced between his. Mingi had crossed the line. “Don’t ever say such sick things.”

You turned to leave but the sudden grip on your wrist span you around. Your body was pressed against his one. You stared up at the taller male, before you had the chance to say something his slender fingers wrapped around your throat pushing you back to the sofa.

“What the hell are you doing?” Your eyes widen as you fell on the sofa, his fingers only tightening. Mingi leaned over, he was only inches away from your face. Anger in his eyes and the smell of whiskey was lingering around your nose.

“Should I be the last face you see?” A creepy smile made its way to his face. His eyes growing as your face turned red, he was crashing your windpipe. Your hands wrapped around his wrist trying to loosen his grip but that didn’t work and you took the opportunity to dig your nails into his neck too.

“G-Go to hell.” You managed to spit out, his eyes only darkening more. A wince leaving his mouth when your nails dag deeper.

The door opening caught both of your attention. Seonghwa strolled in with a frown on his face and his hands in his pockets. “Did I walk in at the right or wrong time?”

Mingi’s grip loosened and he stood straight rubbing his neck. You coughed gasping for air, your throat completely dry.

“I won’t even ask.” Seonghwa sighed, you glared at the taller man in the room before standing up and heading to the door. “Yes, go run to Mr Song.” Mingi’s voice was heard before you slammed the large wooden door shut.

You pulled out the ringing phone and it was Mr Song. You put it on your ear hearing his cheerful voice.

“How did it go?” He asked.

“He’s out of control, Mr Song. Sales have dropped by 15% and the Parks no longer want to partner.”

“I will take care of him, go back to see him in a few days.”

-

You took a deep breath before opening the large doors. It was night and no one was in the company besides some security who let you know that Mingi was still in.

The office was dim and the chair was facing the city lights outside the large window. Mingi didn’t bother turning around. Your heels clacking in the silent room.

You bite your lip, this was a bit unusual. “Mingi?” He didn’t answer but you knew he was there, the chair might’ve had a long backrest but you could still see the man’s hair. You flicked the lamp near him on. You frowned moving even closer trying to see his face.

You almost gasped when his features came in sight. His lip was busted, a cut on his eyebrow and cheek and a light bruise around his eye. Mingi’s attention went on yours. He had a drink in his hand that he had now placed down and a bloody handkerchief.

“What happened to you?” You were now in front of him, looking down with concern drawn over your face. Your hand reaching out to the first aid kit next to him. You quickly pulled out wipes, you dapped it on the cut on his cheek making him wince. “Sorry.” You mumbled.

“Why would you get into a fight? The press conference is in a few days!” You stated purposely pressing hard on his cut. “He hit my car.”

Your mouth almost fell open at the stupid excuse to start a fight. “Let me guess, I should see the other guy?” You glared at him, he let out a small laugh. It was your first time seeing him genuinely laugh making him bloom. “Read my mind.”

You started to clean the cut on his lip, the silence was comfortable for some reason. You felt his stare on you but you ignored that and continued with your task though shortly Mingi gently grabbed your wrist pushing your hand away.

Your eyes met and it felt like he had casted a spell on you. You didn’t realise how close you really were to him yet you didn’t bother to move.

“If you stay that close, I’m going to kiss you.” He softly whispered, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you, he started leaning closer you stayed still like you were waiting for your lips to connect with his plump ones.

Mingi grabbed the back of your head closing the gap between you two. The kiss was anything but sweet. The taste of metallic coming in your mouth due to the cut on his lip but that didn’t bother you.

With his free hand he wrapped it around your waist pulling you down on his lap. You could feel his bludge growing by the second under you. Your hands wrapped around his dark hair, lightly tugging on it as you started to sway your hips making him let out a groan. Mingi pulled away latching his mouth on your neck, planting soft kisses down your chest as he took your blazer off and pulled your dress down revealing your hard nipples.

His thumb teasingly circled around your nipple causing a moan to escape. He grabbed your tit and his warm tongue danced around your nipple before sucking it.

“Oh god.” You murmured tugging more on his hair, you haven’t felt anything like this in a while. You felt the wetness between your legs and wanted more.

You stood up dropping to your knees and unbuttoned his pants, with his help they were pulled down. You bit your lip seeing how big he really is.

You grabbed his length in your hand and Mingi had a fistful of your hair pushing your head down. “Spit on it.” He ordered and you did so but he took that chance to shove himself down your throat.

You started to bob your head, your mouth fully stuffed with his cock. “Taking it like a good girl.” He smirked when you looked up at his face, your cheeks were rosy, your brows pinched together and your hair was messy since he was still tugging on it.

Mingi grabs your arms pulling you up in a second, he stood up and pushed you down on his desk. He lifted your dress up and ripped your stockings.

He moved your panties to the side as he leaned over you. “So wet for me.” He whispered biting your neck. Mingi took out a condom from his drawer and put it on after ripping off the package.

“Don’t flatter yoursel-” A whimper cut you off when he positioned himself to your entrance and with no warning slammed into you, stretching you out.

“F-Fuck you.” You mumbled digging your nails into his shoulders, his pace was nowhere near gentle. “Already am, doll.” Mingi licked your lips, grinning hard seeing the mess you were and how you could barely form words.

“I think I like you better when you’re moaning more than talking.” He purred against your neck, his thrusts not dying down.

He kept abusing your insides over and over. His hands were running down your body. He stood straight placing your leg on his shoulder and holding onto your hips keeping you in place as he kept slamming into you like there’s no tomorrow.

“Taking me pretty well, aren't you?" He groaned watching how his length was disappearing inside you.

You felt light headed from all the pleasure and the heat rushed through your body. You arched your back when he started to rub your swollen clit.

With one thrust he pushed himself so deep inside you, both of your hips now touching. No one’s ever been that deep and you loved it. Your legs twitched and you released over his cock. He jerked inside you with a groan you knew he was done.

He pulled out throwing the condom in the trash under his desk. Mingi fixed himself up, you were still on the desk unable to move. “Did I fuck you that good?” He smiled proud of himself making you roll your eyes.

He carried you making your arms wrap around his neck. Mingi gently placed you on the couch and covered you with the blanket. You felt sleep taking over you when he started to play with your hair.

“I didn’t get into a fight. I was jumped by Mr Song’s guards. Funny how my father shows his love, right?”

Twisted

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

"I want you to destroy me so I'll feel better"

Convincing Simon "Ghost" Riley to try something new. Well...not new for either of you, but a first for your relationship.

CW: name calling, degradation, violent choking (all consensual)

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

"You like what?"

Simon stands in front of you, hands in his hoodie pocket.

"I like being choked...until I pass out."

You repeat slowly. You know it was fucked up. You know it was bad. Everytime you did it you could feel your braincells dying. You sit on your hands at the edge of the bed. There's a moment of silence as he stares down at you.

"No."

He gives you that signature cold look of his: reserved for when you're in an argument you can't win. Or one he doesn't want you to win. 'You know this is useless. Give up. Quit while you're ahead.' It's like his voice was in your head.

"Are you afraid you're gonna hurt me?"

You always get your way at the end of the day. You knew it. He knew it.

"It's a stupid idea. Best to get that out of your head. Now."

He adjusts his mask before walking off.

"Please?"

You hug him from behind while he cooks eggs.

"No."

"Please?"

You wrap your arms his neck and lie on top of him while watching TV.

"No. Stop asking."

"Please?"

You're in bed when he goes to turn off the lights.

"..."

He resorts to ignoring you. You're getting closer to cracking him.

It goes on like this for two weeks. Usually he gives in by now, but you're making progress. Instead of engaging, he just leaves the room now.

"How did you even find out you liked that?"

He doesn't look at you while he spoons cereal into his mouth, mask rolled up just enough.

"I think it's something about an abusive ex choking me."

You take a bite of your cereal.

"Something about 'reclaiming your power after past traumas'. At least that's what my therapist said. Not sure if I believe that, but I can't think of any other reason I like it."

You shrug as you chew.

"Hm."

He keeps eating.

Breakfast is silent after that. You always get your way at the end of the day. You knew it. He knew it.

"Can't believe I'm doing this..."

He mumbles, kneeling over you while you lie on the floor.

"C'mon you've done this dozens of times."

You smile up at him.

"That's different and you know that."

He looks down at you, slightly disappointed.

"Sorry."

"It's fine..."

It's quiet. He shifts and the floorboards creak.

"So just until I pass out, then you can stop. I'll wake right up after."

You rub your hands on his knees.

"Mhm. Tap out whenever you want."

His gaze is intense, like he was fighting with himself. He places a hand on your neck gently.

"Can you be a little mean?"

Your heart races.

"Fucks sake, choking ain't enough for you?"

He wraps the other hand around your throat lightly.

"Would it be fucked up if I fought back?"

You flash a cheeky smirk.

"Don't do that."

He rubs his thumbs against your skin.

"Ok. Ready."

You take a deep breath and relax. He clears his throat and puts some pressure on your neck. You nod, looking up at him.

"Hm."

He applies more pressure until you can barely breathe. You take shallow breaths and close your eyes. His grip gets tighter. You can't inhale. You shift your hips under his.

"Don't. Move."

His words send a chill up your spine. He never used this tone with you before. It was terrifying. You try to swallow nervously. The last few exhales you have leave your lungs.

"Look at me."

You keep your eyes closed, a few rough taps to your face snap them open. His eyes are glossed over and dark, a frenzied shark. You find it in your chest to whimper.

"Shut the fuck up."

His hands wrap around you harder. It's starting to hurt. You lift your hands to grab his wrists. He gives a solid shake, banging your head on the floor and making you see stars. He leans down, pressing his masked mouth to your ear.

"Told you. Don't. Move."

Your lips opened and closed like a fish out of water. Swallowing became impossible. Your eyes watered, you could feel Simon's hands shaking. Then, darkness. It's quiet, peaceful, only lasts less than a second. And just like that, you're conscious. A delicious head rush and breath of fresh air leaves a goofy smile on your face.

"Unbelievable..."

Simon shakes his head, leans back on his knees, and huffs. You stare at the ceiling for a moment, catching your breath. Simon scoots back and you watch as he adjusts himself.

"Have fun?"

You tease. Before you can rag on him more, he yanks both your bottoms off and sits you right on his hard dick.

"Fuckin hell. You really do like that shit, huh?"

He grips your ass and glides you up and down as your dripping wetness clamps down on him. You're already drooling from the sensation of him parting you wide open so easily. You always get your way at the end of the day. You knew it. He knew it.

[star1ight0]

Shouta Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada x PLATONIC KID!!

I crave comfort so here

Tw : Ed /sh

Not many people were aware of your relationship with your homeroom teacher and English teacher known as Mr. Aizawa and his loud husband Mic but they were your dad's. In the beginning of the year they both made it clear no special treatment would be given and you appreciated it a lot.

This also came with its ups and downs trying to fight the urge to hug you dad in front of class after villain attacks ect, as much as they'd both fight it they also struggled to accessively check on you when you all moved to dorms.

Having grown up always close to him after they adopted you from a abusive home. had its drags on you all You weren't entirely sure when this overwhelming feeling of despair started but it felt so shitty, you had no reason to feel this way you had a good life. Loving dads, a nice school and a few friends you hold dear to you. It was so long ago why was this still bothering you.

You remembered a conversation you had with your dad, Mic recalling how Aizawa was struggling with mental health and how it wasn't an effect of things around him but rather his brain chemistry. You looked at your phone debating on calling your family group chat to ask them for help but managed to talk yourself out of it resorting to crying on your closet floor.

After a few minutes of crying you managed to pull yourself together grabbing some clothes and deciding this was all in your head and you had no reason to feel so shitty. Heading out your room you feel a tap on your shoulder "it's past curfew kid" you turn around to see you father Hizashi looking around you you look back at him eyes still puffy "Sorry dad, just needed a shower" you say attempting to walk away when you feel a hand in you wrist "were you crying little listener?" You flinch at the childhood nickname your dad had given you "No, sorry just tired" you say pulling away "either your high or you were crying which one is it kid" He says pointing to your eyes "its nothing dad please just let me shower"

You pull away walking away leaving your dad in the hall alone. You took a long shower, trying to scrub off the memories of your past home. You get out the shower and go back to your dorm laying down on the floor ignoring the fact your bed was no more than 3 feet away. You look at your phone to see Aizawa texted you

You okay kiddo?

Yeah sorry for worrying y'all just a bad day

Are you sure

Yeah

If you say so, me and Hizashi are here if you need us. Now go to bed it's late

The conversation was short and to the point but you still felt the need to want to call him and tell him these awful feelings you were having.

A few days passed when you got an email from an all too familiar name, it was your biological mom. The very same woman who had given you physical and mental problems along with nonstop nightmares for 2 years. You had changed everything phone number, social media accounts anything that she could you to find you. Yet her name is in your inbox with a paragraph calling you names and threatening you. Everything felt so out of control like nothing you did to get away from her was enough. But she knew now, she knew what school you went to. 1-A had been on TV after all, you should have known it was only a matter of time. You looked at your phone blankly feeling your body shake and tears fall from your face. You reached for your pocket knife making a cut on your thigh it felt good like you finally had control over how you felt like you had control over something when everything around you was so chaotic. This was bad you knew that but it felt too good to want to care.

Overtime the threatening emails from your mother piled up only feeding the fear she'd find you and harm you, in turn causing more scars to be formed on your legs. You dads had quickly talked notice to you change in dimanar and talked it over amongst themselves and tried to reach out to you but it was all brushed off as a bad week or a bad day.

This began to escalate more than your lack of interest in food came about you seemed so tired too tired to even eat. This is where they drew the line. No kid of theirs would be passing out in training. They just couldn't figure out how to talk to you about this without you shutting down and shutting them out.

Monday morning training came about and you felt exhausted like your whole body was about to give out. This was only further proven when you passed out before training with Todoroki without him even activating either of his quirks. Both Hizashi and Aizawa rushed to your side as another student ran to get recovery girl. You woke up in the nurses office with both your dad's next to you looking worried out their minds.

"Recovery girl said you'd be fine.. as long as you ate and drank probably." There was a silence filled with worry and a bit of anger

"I'm sorry dad-" you were cut off by Hizashi hugging you, "please don't scare me like that kid" he said holding you as if you were gonna disappear. "Talk to us if you need to kiddo. You know we'll listen. "

You hugged him back going back to your dorm early as you were excused from all classes for the day, sitting on your floor you checked your phone to see another email this time from your biological father. Your mom texting you was one thing you knew in some way she didn't have the gut to actually hurt you but your dad, he'd hunt you down and kill you, metaphorically and literally. You felt a wave of fear washing over you and you sobbed standing up hands on your head pacing around your room crying and shaking. You reach for your knife once more sliding down the wall making a cut in an almost fully healed scar feeling that feeling of control comes back. You made a few more before stopping, taking a deep breath grabbing your first aid kit sitting in the same spot on the floor. Yeah, you felt stupid but not stupid enough to not clean this kind of thing. As you were cleaning up you heard a knock at your door

"Kid? It's us can we talk?"

Aizawa says still waiting at the door "Y-yeah give me a minute please!!" You shout rushing to put the first aid kit away and some sweatpants and throw your knife under the bed you wipe your face, and open the door

"Kid are you okay you look a little.. worse than earlier "

"yeah I'm fine just not in a great mood," you said looking at your phone placed in the far end of the bed. They both came Into your room sat on your bed and attempted to talk to you about what had been bothering you. The conversation went in circles before you placed your head in Aizawa's lap. Your dad Hizashi, was standing at the foot of your bed about to leave when he was stopped by a blood stain on the floor.

"Shouta, I think we should stay till she wakes up"

"hm. I mean I'm not against it but why ?"

He points at the blood spot on the floor and Shoutas eyes widen.

"they are knocked out right now so can you look for whatever is being used ?"

He nods looking around your room eyes landing on a pocked knife shining under your bed.

"here, I'll put it in our room," he says showing Shouta before closing it and placing it in his pocket, as he was above to leave he stopped by the light of your phone along with a name he recognized followed by a scowl.

"Shouta I'm gonna check their phone for something"

He gives Hizashi a confused look but unable to move because of your sleeping form he allows him to do so, you trusted them enough to let them know your passwords but they had never not trusted you enough to go through your phone. He opens the email, reading it and seeing ll the others. He made a face of pure disgust and walked toward Shouta showing him the inbox along with one of the emails it had.

Both had decided to stay in your room till morning, planning to talk to you about this night of unfortunate events. But this was cut short by the feeling of you hyperventilating in Shoutas lap. Hizashi gently shakes him awake and they both attempt to comfort you ultimately failing as you wake you shaking tears forming in your eyes. An all too familiar scene for your dad's to witness.

"it's okay kid, your okay" Hizashi whispered patting your head as Aizawa rubbed your shoulder.

"sorry i-"

"No apologies. We know everything so there's no need to hide anything from us anymore"

Shouta says looking up at his husband

"you could have really hurt yourself kid"

"i know I just - "You were cut off by a knot in your throat as you scrambled to find the words "Everything feels so out of control and I can control this you know?" Shouta nodded in agreement.

"Why did you come to us kiddo?

"i- I didn't want you to worry you. You guys had enough going on.."

You said your voice is still shaking between sobs.

"you'd never be a bother to us. It's our job as you parents to check on you and worry for you"

You all had a long talk about possible coping strategies and ways to communicate if you wanted to talk about something without feeling bothersome. A few relapses were bound to happen and they both knew this but did everything they could to ensure it didn't. Even if it meant letting the whole class know you were their kid so you could go in the teacher's wing of the dorms. You began slowly getting better with setbacks here and there, but by setting up a new email and talking more about what your depression episodes felt like, both your dads were able to help you through it

Yes it's messy I wrote 75% of this in one go and the other half after my shower. And it's like 12:58am

Requests are open but slow

Please reach out if you need to to!!

[sugar-plum-writer]

No One Else <3

Tags: Creampie; rough sex; cum-play; size kink; over-stimulation; public sex; whored out; spanking; unprotected sex; manhandling; MDNI (18+!); smut; NSFW + NSFW; Public Sex; humiliation; degradation kink; porn with little plot; fem!reader

A/n: Finally I am back from Hiatus~ my college exams over woo-hoo! enjoy this fic~ feel free to send asks and your ideas for other fics~

Synopsis: What happens when your boss- The Gojo Satrou your boss the CEO sees you fucking the manager instead of him? How could you? aren't secretaries of CEO's meant to seduce the CEO's?

Word count: 2.2k

Gojo

Moans escaped your lips as you sat on your manager's lap; you've always been the pretty obedient secretary everyone loved- hell you were always looked up to by the people around you at work. The perfect "secretary" of CEO Gojo Satoru of the multi-billion dollar company "The Gojo Corporation" just their logo the italic fancy "G" was enough for everyone to bow their heads in respect.

Your boss being the most sought after bachelor- tall, handsome, rich, future head of the Gojo Corporation who could manipulate the global market with a lift of his finger. You liked him who would not? though you never confessed as well- why would he ever look your way when top models, actresses, etc where always around him?

"Who knew you were such a natural huh? CEO Gojo must sure love having his way with you", kissing your neck and whispering in a deep voice- his eyes darkened as he smirked biting your neck and leaving hickeys

"Ah- ", your eyes glossy as you grinded on his bulge trying to earn even a little bit of stimulation- "B- Boss Satoru… hah…he never fucked me till now", you blurted out as you panted

You were fucking your manager- scandalous? yes; if anyone saw you right now? Hell, Gojo will chew you out alive and even fire you for breaking the rules. The only reason you were even taking this risk was because the manager was hot and your brain just had lost it today from stress

As you looked into his eyes as you kissed him- the olive green eyes nearly hypnotized you, he could never beat your boss Gojo's hotness but hey? who can blame you for getting the second-hottest guy to fuck you? especially with how frustrated with work you are these days.

Non-stop meetings, travel from one country to another, prepare your boss Gojo's documents, schedule, deal with his affairs and what not

Gotta Blow off some steam cause working overtime for money is not enough to fulfill your needs

"Is that so? hm-", chuckling darkly he grabbed you by the jaw "Well- a secretary as good as you deserve to be fucked we-"

Before the next words could be uttered the door suddenly opened- making your jaw drop in horror. It was your boss- Gojo Satoru the CEO

His Italian leather shoes shined as usual- was it the new Armani shirt he was wearing? your eyes looked him up and down nervously as you got off your manager's lap. Sharp black suit, his white hair swept back making him look even bossier than before- and the cold look in his azure eyes- made you gulp

You are fucked today, aren't you?

"Oh, sir! This-" your manager tries to speak, his hands shaking as got up from the chair, "Fired"

Without batting his eyes he just walked towards you, hands in his pockets- sharp- intimidating- completely different from how he normally was

The look he was giving you made you shudder- your legs nearly going weak

"Boss- this! I can explain-" Coming to your senses you scrambled to explain

"How annoying", he grabbed you by the jaw tilting your head as he gazed at the hickies your manager had left even more pissed, "Is my secretary this much of a whore? Should have added that to your resume tsk"

"S-Sir!- please- I really"

"Really what? my dear secretary?", his grip tightening on your wrist as he dragged you with him outside. The whole office floor was looking at you two awe-struck about what the hell was going on

Why is the secretary's neck covered in hickies today?

How did the Miss perfect secretary get on Mr. Gojo's bad side?

"Do you wanna be fucked that badly?", with a whisper he chomped down on your neck- teeth grazing your neck- over the hickies the manager had left- blood coating his lips as he looked into your eyes- so possessively it was scary

"G-Gojo- ah! it hurt-", wincing you tried to push him away making him only pin you against the wall biting harder- as if ingraining into your bones on who you belonged to

"Gojo- Sir-!" gasping you cling to him as tears trickled down your eyes, "E-Everyone is- hah look-!" Before any words could be uttered, he kissed you hard with his tongue biting your lips and making you breathless

"Hah so?"

"Taking the risk of getting fired for him is fine? fucking me the man who owns the place is embarrassing? huh", pulling back- a string of saliva connected you both; he brought his knee up and grinded against your cunt. The expensive suit probably worth more than your months of salary combined covered in your slick.

"Ah-" you gasped as the sudden wave of pleasure hit you- "Gojo!" eyes wide you dug your nails into his back- your poor cunt was ruthlessly being abused by him right now

"Please- Merc-y! ah-", you squirmed pathetically but he just got even harsher

"Shall we show them all, how much of a whore you are? hm? The oh-so-perfect secretary is a hidden slut?", he whispered darkly sending goosebumps down your spine

It was pathetic how even in such a situation your cunt just kept getting wetter- your slick covered his pants as his knee continued to grind against your pussy. All sloppily and puffy asking for mercy as it dripped in front of the whole office.

"I-I am not a Slu-! ah!" you moaned again as you squirmed, "Then what are you getting even wetter for huh?", smirking he leaned in, "You wanna cum so bad? Shall I make you cum my dear secretary?"

"W-What? G-Gojo please…'tis too m-mu-" Before another word could be said his grinding got even harsher, "Ah- ahh-" gasping you arch your back cumming all over his pants- juices all gushing out dripping all over the pristine floor

"hah- ah..." you panted your brain hazily- hell your legs were still shaking from the intense orgasm- "Gojo…Sir..", you gazed up at him with your glassy eyes

"Fuck…" he whispered under his breath

"Guess I really should have fucked you before huh?", removing his tie he dropped it on the floor while simultaneously he removed his coat- god- he wanted to fuck you till he owned you- the way you were looking at him was better than all imaginations he conjured up while he jerked off thinking of you

"Y-Your heard everything? i-inside?", hearing his words made your eyes widen- goosebumps spreading across your skin after all how long was he standing? how did he know? so many questions swirled your already hazy brain

"I did", with a smirk he spoke, his voice strained by how much he was holding himself back from his ramming his dick into you

"A good secretary deserves to be fucked well right?", with a dark animalistic gaze he leaned in as he whispered- his deep voice enough to make you lose your mind; god have mercy

You don't know why but the way he said it made the walls of your cunt clench tight oozing with desire- You might at this point give in to being fucked in front of the whole office

"Mr.Gojo should have had his way long ago huh? How much of a natural you are", he continued to whisper as his hands went to your clitoris stroking it and making you moan even harder as you held onto him

"Ah-", your brain already felt hazy from the previous intense orgasm, "'toru- please..please..I wanna cum! Please!", the pleasure again was making your brain numb- the whispers, his hand on your clit, stroking it- teasing you while you gasped and moaned in front of the whole office

"I don't think so- after all which good secretary goes and fucks her manager instead of her boss huh?", he smacked your cunt- making it even more puffy as pre-cum dripped out of you

"N-No…Ah! I mean-", whining your grip on him tightened even more- tears spilled out- the pleasure was too good, and at this point, you did not care he was fucking you in front of the whole office

"You keep forgetting whose paycheck you are on dear- what about him even made you think he could give it to you better huh?", pissed he pinched your clitoris making you mewl and cum instantly

It was too much- he was too mean- the pleasure was too much- you were nothing but a mess right now- cum dripping all over, tear-stained face- voice cracked from all the moaning- you wanted to save your poor cunt from more abuse- but it felt so good

He looked so hot hell just when you thought he could not get hotter he just did

The carnal gaze, his icy cold blue eyes looking into yours, tie and coat on the floor, shirt unbuttoned, his hair slight bit messy- while he made you cum again and again- his deep voice- you were melting under him all the while the employees just stood stunned

"If you had seduced me like a good secretary does- you would not be like this you know?", smirking he sat down on the couch kept in the center of the office floor; all the eyes still on you two, "It's time you really show the skills you got darling"

Mind hypnotized by the sheer desire you were feeling right now- you literally crawled to him- legs shaking from the previous orgasms as you looked up at him- embarrassed, shameful, literally you felt so humiliated right now you could die but hey? even god won't blame you right? he was so- hypnotic it's like he just knew how to have his way

"Y-Yes Sir...", pushing your hair aside he brought your face close to his dick, "I don't think I need to tell you want to do?"

"No sir...", hazily you started sucking on his dick dragging your tongue from the base to the tip- he was so big; you knew he was big but this big? the veins on his dick pulsing as his hand gripped the back of your head

"Fuck..", he tossed his head back, "-should have done this long back"

You kept sucking, pre-cum dribbling down your chin as you kept going- tongue swirling around the tip

"Shit- Fuck-" , without a warning he rammed his dick deep into your mouth- deep throating you as he buried your face into his crotch

"G-Gojo- ah!", chocking on his dick tears trickled down your eyes from pleasure. His cum dripped out of your mouth, your face covered in cum as you gazed up at him. Next thing you knew he pulled you onto his lap and rammed his dick into your pouty sloppy and pathetic cunt- he was too big- your poor hole had to work overtime to adjust to his length with how big he was

"'toru..", you looked at him in the eyes with the last bit of rationality gone. You really had lost it today- how will you ever face the office from here on out? secretary letting her boss fuck her in the middle of the office floor and even sucking his dick for him? That too the CEO Gojo Satoru of the "Gojo Corporation" quite the headline for the morning news- the list goes on as you imagined the headlines

"Dragged from fucking manager to boss!"

"What's the relationship between Mr. Gojo and his secretary?"

"Did Mr. Gojo pay her? How much money was involved?"

"Secret revealed! learn to suck Dick from Mr. Gojo's secretary! Exclusive interview from sugar daddy website editor!"

...

Smirking he started stroking your clit again rubbing your clitoris- fingers moving in circles teasing you so much you could hit him- too bad your whole body was shaking right now. The smirk that always made your heart flutter, was making your heart flutter even now; though you tried to bury the feelings it never worked and certainly not right now

"You really are quite the piece of work~ huh dear secretary?", he whispered as he continued to jerk you off while his dick kept ramming into you, "'toru! ah! 'tis too much...I can't!...I really can't!", digging your nails onto his back you continued to moan

"You can, you are a good secretary of mine aren't you? be a good girl and cum", increasing his pace he stretched your folds making you curl your toes from pleasure and intensity your vision went white for a minute you though you could see the gates of heaven

"I-'m cumming!...ah! 'toru!" burying your face of the crook of his neck you came again at this point you had no idea how many times you came- all you knew was just pleasure in your hazy mind as you knocked yourself out exhausted

Little did you know Gojo in the mean time you were asleep on his lap- continued to make the employees work unbothered of everything that happened as he carried you in his arms- all security footage and everything was over-ridden and edited- you were all his after all- and only he get's to have his way like this with you

As for your Manager may lord have mercy on him, how dare he think he could lay his hands on you?

"Just say the word and it's yours after all- there is nothing I Gojo Satoru cannot do all you gotta do you open your mouth darling~"

Link to my Masterlist!

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The Diary of Tom Riddle- Tom Riddle x Reader - Canon Complaint ending.

pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader

warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed, bleeding, self-harm, vomiting, (y/n) is going THROUGH it. horror elements. Tom Riddle.

summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3- -Part 4- -Part 5- -Part 6- -Part 7- -"Good" ending- -Bad ending-

=

(y/n) huffed in frustration as she looked through the restricted section for the third night in a row, constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure Filch or Madam Pince wouldn’t catch her.

Tom had told her to look for a few particular books that were filled with information about possession and how to expel it, but it seemed there was nothing in Hogwarts about that sort’ve thing oddly enough.

Explaining such a thing to Tom seemed to puzzle him, as in his years of school, he was quite certain the library had those sorts of books.

‘might’ve been because of the war and demons or possessive spirits were more rampant back then. Now that the world is in a peaceful era, there’s no need for those type of books.’

Tom had reasoned and (y/n) had to concede, because back then-during World War two and the uprising of Grindelwald, there had been a lot more to the defensive classes at Hogwarts, like full dueling classes and multi hour-long sessions of DADA.

How did she know that? Simple research in ‘Hogwarts a history’. That and she’d asked Tom.

She huffed in frustration again as she once again didn’t find the books she was looking for, leaving the library and sneaking back to her dorm room, carefully stepping back into her room-making sure not to wake up her roommates, and toeing off her shoes, climbing into her bed. She closed the curtains and grabbed Tom’s diary from her jumper pocket, grabbing her pen and opening the diary.

“I still couldn’t find anything :c”

‘Damn, not even the locked books?’

“no, nothing about ghosts other than how they’re created, but that stuff was in the normal part of the library.”

(y/n) sighed in frustration, rubbing her face as her inked words faded and Tom’s elegant scrawl replaced it.

‘I have an idea. I don’t know if it’ll work, but in my era-those types of books were available in the library, perhaps they’ll be available here.’

(y/n) bit her thumbnail, knowing what he was suggesting. Her going back into his subspace, all for the slim chance of possibly getting her hands on information to expel a possession. It was risky, because her going into his space meant either her using up a lot of her magic and leaving her vulnerable, or him using his limited supply of magic and being unable to communicate with her for a few days.

But it was a risk she would have to take.

“okay. Lets try.”

In a flash of familiar light and a tug at her wrists, (y/n) was within Tom’s diary once again. She felt his arms wrap around her as she landed and after a split moment of looking into his sepia-toned eyes, he took her hand and led her to the library, easily unlocking the restricted section with a wave of his hand.

She quickly pushed through the gates and looked through the books from Tom’s era. There were thankfully all titled, which meant the core Tom, the one who had enchanted his personality onto the diary, had remembered these books before casting the spell.

She grabbed one of the books titled ‘possessions and reanimations’ and the lock melted away like ink, and she glanced over her shoulder Tom-who was watching her like a hawk, his eyes intense. She swallowed down the feeling of nervousness and opened the book.

It was completely fucking. Blank.

She let out a low scream/shriek of frustration and shoved the book back into the shelf, looking through the other books as well. All empty.

“There's nothing here!” (y/n) cried, sinking to the floor, burying her face in her knees. Tom frowned, looking up at the shelves.

“Odd, I suppose I don’t remember these books as I thought I did, I apologize (y/n), I’ve wasted your time.” Tom said very softly, kneeling beside her and resting his hand on her head. (y/n) let out a long shuddering sigh, letting her legs slide out in front of her, her nose burning as tears built in her eyes.

“What am I going to do?” she whispered to herself, she had no one to talk about this to in the real world, and Tom could only do so much. Tom hummed softly and sat next to her, his foot knocking against hers gently.

“I wish I could do more,” he said softly and (y/n) let out another long shuddering sigh, sniffling and wiping at her eyes.

What was she going to do?

Moments later, Tom booted her from the diary-she understood why-her being there drained a lot of magic from him-or well her it seemed today, as her nose was bleeding again.

She sighed, wiping her nose and closing Tom’s diary, putting it under her pillow. She felt jittery, too nervous to go to sleep-worried that the heir might try to possess her again tonight while she slept.

Still, she lay down, hands going under her pillow, connecting with the diary and she clutched it, taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes. The diary was warm under her hands, it felt alive-reminding her that Tom was there-practically real, as real as a personality enchantment could get.

She fell asleep, thankfully waking up in her bed. She sighed, rubbing her face and tired eyes, grabbing Tom’s diary from under her pillow and slipping it into her bag as she got ready for the day.

At breakfast she was distracted, trying to figure out what she was going to do, her friends tried to ask what was wrong, noticing how out of it she was, but she told them she was just stressed from exams coming up and the whole chamber of secrets situation.

They understood and let her be after that, but each time she passed one of them on the way to class, they gave her a little smile or hug, which she greatly appreciated.

By the time classes were done, (y/n) was exhausted, like, super exhausted, she could barely keep her eyes open, and her eyes were almost hurting with how tired she was, which was unusual because she’d slept fine the night before.

She climbed into her bed, not even taking her shoes off, and passed out.

-

‘Get up.’

A voice in her head echoed, and without her will, she sat up, her mind still a haze as if in sleep-unaware of what she was doing. She slowly slipped off her bed, grabbing Tom’s diary from her bag, and walking out of her room.

In a daze, she left the common room, not responding to anyone that greeted her as she walked past. Her vision was dim, a hazy unconscious glaze in her eyes as she walked down the corridors. She went up several flights of stairs, passing by a teacher or two on her way, paying them no mind-and they didn’t seem to pay her any mind either.

She went to the 2nd floor corridor, just in front of the haunted girl's bathrooms.

She drew up her sleeve, raking her nails down her arm until she bled, and then coated her fingers in her blood, extending her arm to the wall and writing down the words that were muttered in her head.

She stepped away as the last letter was written, her arms hanging limply at her side, Tom’s diary clutched in her other hand. She turned her heel and walked into the bathroom, stopping in front of the sink and looking at the one just in front of her.

“Open.” She said in parseltongue, and the sink transformed, revealing a large hole beneath the sinks that led deep beneath Hogwarts.

She jumped without a moment of hesitation, the sinks closing back together and sealing the tunnel once again. The wind blew through her hair and at her face as she descended through the tunnel, hitting the slimy floor as she flew out the other side. She got up, making sure Tom’s diary was still in her hands, and continued through the tunnels, not even taking out her wand for light.

She went through several tunnels, crawled through a cave, and finally turned into a hallway with a dead end, two snakes curled up around each other with emeralds for eyes, which glinted at her eerily.

“Open.” She said in parseltongue again and the snakes' eyes glowed and they moved, a split in the wall appearing and opening the doors inward. She entered the chamber of secrets, her shoes splashing on the flooded flooring as she made her way towards the statue of Salazar Slytherin.

She took a breath, and then slumped to the floor, Tom’s diary resting on her chest as her vision went completely black again, a wet hot feeling coming from her nose as footsteps echoed around her.

-

She felt a sudden rush of energy as warmth overcame the coldness that had overtaken her and she gasped, her eyes snapping open just as a bright light engulfed the chamber, a strange visage of Tom disappearing at the same time-exploding into bright golden light.

She sat up, staring at the space where she just saw Tom, panting heavily as she turned, looking behind her to see…Harry Potter? Who looked pale and weak, the diary in front of him…bleeding ink.

“What…the fuck?” (y/n) murmured to herself, gently grabbing the diary, Harry frowning a bit as he did so.

“He was manipulating you,” Harry began to explain, sounding weaker and weaker by the second. “He was slowly possessing you, draining your life to gain his back…” (y/n)’s heart dropped at the explanation, her eyes glued to the diary that had a hole stabbed through it, a fang in Harry’s hand with blood and ink all over it.

“But…he,” (y/n) muttered, tears filling her eyes as the diary slipped from her hands and into the water below. “He…” she didn’t know what to say, her eyes drifting back up to Harry, gasping as she saw how beaten he really looked. “Shit-kid-what the fuck happened to you?” she asked, scooting closer on her knees, looking at his arm, her eyes widening at the large bite wound. “What did that?!”

Harry looked to the side and (y/n) followed his gaze, gasping as she saw a giant serpent, a basilisk, lying dead nearby. “You killed that thing?” she asked, and Harry nodded, pointing weakly at the sword next to him. “…holy shit kid,” she muttered, her brows pinched.

Harry was looking weaker by the second and she remembered basilisk venom was very very deadly; Harry would be dead at any second. “Shit we gotta get you outta here-fuck how do we get out of here?!” (y/n) panicked for a moment and then a screech came from above, Dumbledore’s familiar, Fawkes, came soaring from above and landed next to Harry, tears dropping from his eyes and onto Harry’s wound.

Harry smiled as he felt the venom in his veins disappear, his energy returning. “Phoenix tears have healing properties,” Harry muttered, smiling at (y/n), who gave a weak unsure smile in return.

They got to their feet, (y/n) clutching the diary as Harry collected the sorting hat (she wasn’t going to question anything right now) and the sword that had killed the basilisk.

They exited the chamber of secrets, finding Ron and the dumbass Lockhart (it lifted her spirits a bit to know he was a fraud and a coward and had lost all his memories, he kinda deserved it). After that Fawkes found a way out through the caves and air-lifted them all out, Audrey hanging onto Lockhart's ankle while Harry and Ron held onto her hand.

(y/n) clutched the diary in her hand as they made their way to Professor McGonagall’s office, and Harry pushed open the door. (y/n) felt her heart stutter seeing her mom, dad, and brothers, dropping Tom’s diary to the floor as her parents gasped out her name and she was engulfed in a hug.

She leaned heavily into her dad, sobbing terribly as he held her tight.

It was over.

Tom had tricked her.

He had lied to her the whole time.

Stupid fucking personality enchantment.

-

She was sitting in front of Headmaster Dumbledore, her arms crossed as she slumped in the chair in front of his desk, his eyes on her, kind and understanding.

“I do not blame you, Ms. (y/n), Mr. Riddle has always been charming, even when he was younger. You are not at fault for falling for those charms, especially when he so dutifully leaned into being your friend and pretending to be one.” Dumbledore said kindly and (y/n) let out a shuddering sigh, wiping away her tears.

She felt physically better than she’d had in months, months; ever since the diary had been destroyed, which was laid in front of her on Dumbledore’s desk, and now she knew why she hadn’t been feeling well. That didn’t mean she felt emotionally or mentally well.

Tom had been behind it all, Tom…Voldemort; had tricked her, gained her trust, and used it against her to slowly drain her life force from her to be able to resurrect himself as his 16-year-old self.

“When I look back on everything,” she spoke quietly, voice cracking and wavering as she remembered every conversation with Tom, all the gaps in her memory, all the times she’d woken up somewhere not in her bed, all the nightmares-how Tom seemed to know far more than she ever told him.

“I just feel so…stupid, it was all so obvious,” (y/n) mumbled, a sob breaking her sentence as she closed her eyes. “But he felt so…real, so genuine… but he was just lying to me all along.” (y/n) said weakly, burying her face in her hands.

“Tom Riddle was a very smart, charming boy who knew how to get what he wanted, regardless of what he had to do to get it. He even tricked me, and I could never prove when he was responsible for certain things that he did around the school-I believed he had been the one to open the chamber of secrets, as he had shared with me he could speak to snakes when I first met him, and I knew only those descended from the Slytherin line could do that, and yet I knew he had fooled everyone else to believe he was a charming, good boy, that could do no wrong. He did the same thing to you, and I refuse to let you believe you were tricked because you’re stupid. No, you were tricked because he’s too smart, and used your feelings for his own gain.” Dumbledore said softly, standing from his desk and walking around it, resting a hand on (y/n)’s head.

(y/n) sniffled and lifted her head, staring at Dumbledore who offered a kind understanding smile. “You are not at fault for what he did, you are a victim.” Dumbledore said softly and (y/n) nodded, understanding that, but it didn’t mean she still wasn’t blaming herself for getting caught up in Tom Riddles, young Voldemort’s, lies.

“I think Im going to go take a proper nap, Professor Dumbledore.” (y/n) said softly and Dumbledore nodded, allowing her to leave. She glanced back at Tom’s diary as she opened the door, and then closed it behind her, leaving the diary behind as well.

-CC ending.-

welp-here it is! hope you guys like this ending as well as the 'good' ending, took me oddly a long time to write, hopefully i can at least write the bad ending out before i leave for vacation, but in the meantime, you guys have this to read~!

taglist!

@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon

@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott

@kayytt-2 @chimchoom @joyfulnightmare-hq

@theicypiscean @discofairysworld @simpforih44

[lokisprettygirl]

Come As You Are (Eric Draven! Bill Skarsgard's Version x Female Reader) (18+) (Slight Au)

Read chapter 2 here

Chapter 3

Summary : Eric wants to push you away but he can't when you look at him like that. You learn the reason behind one of his scars.

Warning: 18+, smut later, Eric is a past drug addict with suicidal tendencies, self harm, use of cuss words, description of claustrophobia, reader is in her early thirties, mention of sexual assault, death and murder, Consumption of alcohol and weed

After you returned from the grocery shopping you saw him leaning against the wall next to his door, smoking a cigarette, right under the smoke alarm. That obviously didn't work. He didn't look like he had been run over by a garbage truck anymore, he seemed freshly showered, his hair was still wet. So wet.

He had put on a simple black t-shirt again. You were starting to think he didn't own many colours.

You shook your head before you placed the bags down on the floor to take out your keys from the pocket of your jeans.

He was expecting you to say something but when you didn't he put the cigarette butt down and then crushed it under his boot, his eyes lingered over your jeans clad ass for a moment before he walked towards you and grabbed your arm to turn you around, the keys fell down from your hand at the sudden gesture.

Wasn't he just screaming at your face asking you to stay away from him? This man had worse mood swings than that of a pregnant lady.

You looked up at him and he was just staring at you with his big green eyes.

“What?” You asked so he took out a small torch looking gadget from his pocket and opened your palm to keep it there. It looked like a keyring.

“Ummmm what is this?” You looked at him confused so he scratched his neck.

“It's a mini taser” he said with such disinterested nonchalance you had to do a double take.

“What?”

“Never heard of a taser?”

“I know what a taser is..but .. what..why are you giving me this?” you asked him, you did appreciate the gift though, especially after that incident in the alley.

“I don't know .. consider it a gift, it was your birthday.. it's not like a cop level taser but it gets the job done, small enough to keep in your pocket, effective enough to have a man want to latch onto his mama’s titties again” he said as he crossed his arms and stared down at you.

“Okay..thanks i guess..you didn't have to get me anything”

He really didn't.

“Well I did..you gave me beer and cake..so a gift for a gift” he spoke, his voice gentle for once. And the super hot kissing session, he forgot to add that.

“I feel like I'll end up tasing myself with this” you said as you looked at it.

“Under what circumstances would that even happen?”

“I don't know..”

He chuckled at the response before he bent down and picked up your keys to give it to you, then he stepped away from you.

“Eric.. about -” you were going to ask him about the blood bath but he cuts you off as if sensing your question already.

“Don't ask questions..I can't tell you anything about what I do” you huffed as he said that.

“That's now how it works with me”

“It doesn't have to ..let's just be good old incurious neighbours to each other” he raised his brows in that annoying smug manner and that only pissed you off further.

“Well then you should know that incurious neighbours don't buy each other gifts” you said as you walked towards him and kept the taser on his palm, that's when you saw the long scar that ran sideways on his palm, on both of them, you hadn't noticed them before. You also saw the self harm scars riddled on his wrist, you didn't need to be told what they were. He regenerated and healed now but those scars from his past life never healed even when he cut over them they healed with them still on his body, as if to always remind him of his past.

“How did you get this?” you asked him, your fingers traced gently over his palm, making him wince in response.

“What did I just say to you about us not being nosy with each other?” you glared at him as he said that.

“Goodnight then” you said as you turned around but he grabbed your arm and pulled you into his chest. He was really pissing you off, so much so that you wanted to kiss him again. Have that feeling of mind numbing euphoria that you had experienced with him last night.

“Will you keep the gift if I tell you about the scar?” He tilted his head as he questioned so you nodded in response.

“Yeah”

He sighed as you said that, you were being so difficult for no reason.

“An accident I had as a child” he answered to shut you up but that wasn't enough obviously.

“Tell me more..What happened?” He gulped as you asked him, he didn't really enjoy thinking about that day,let alone talking about it but the determination on your face made him waver, besides he really did want you to have the taser for your own safety..

“Family had a horse, my mama..she uh sent me to buy stuff for her” he looked away as he spoke, by stuff he meant alcohol that he shouldn't have been asked to buy as a child, he wasn't even looking at you at the moment, this has always been something he didn't like sharing, he had never gotten into much detail about it even to Melody “When I came back from the shop I found him mangled around in the barb wire, he had gotten old, he wasn't supposed to be out.. shouldn't have been out” he looked down as he finished speaking so you followed his gaze, your fingers continued to trace over the scar.

“You tried to free him from the wires..that's how you got these..right?” You asked him softly, when he finally looked at you, you noticed his eyes were moist as if he was relieving the memory of his dying horse. Those tattoos on his back made sense now to you, they were a reminder. Guilt perhaps.

He had given you a peek into his past, a glimpse of his childhood, and you knew that was just the beginning, he was a troubled man but what led him to be this way? So closed off and so guarded? You wanted to learn more about him, read every chapter of his life like a book.

“I'm so sorry that happened to you eric” you mumbled as you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him, your face smushing between his chest. He was taken aback for a moment, not really knowing how to respond, it has been a while since he had been held this way with such warmth. And he despised it. He didn't want to get used to this feeling, it would only bring him pain and hurt, not to forget he couldn't be seen with you, he was on the radar of so many awful people, he might have been invincible now but you weren't.

Despite his heart screaming at him to pull himself away from your clutch he placed his hands behind your head and held you like that for a moment before he pulled your head away from his chest, his fingers went under your chin to make you look up at him.

“Dont make a habit out of this” he spoke, voice gruff and strict like a school teacher.

“Habit out of what?” you feigned innocence.

“Extorting information out of me like this when I'm just trying to be a good neighbour by getting you a birthday gift like a neighbour should”

You didn't say anything but your eyes spoke volume to him. He had a feeling you were going to make a habit out of this. And he had a feeling every time you'd look at him with those soft eyes he'd give in and reveal things about his past that he shouldn't.

“I’ll try Mr Draven.. if you get hungry..I'm making lasagna and like a good neighbour I'm willing to share it with you, it's up to you though..knock anytime..thanks for this again” you said as you grabbed the torch looking taser from his palm and pulled away from him before you turned around to grab your grocery bags to get back in your apartment.

“Yeah well use it” you heard his voice, quiet and mumbly as you closed the door, then you put the bags down and leaned against the door as you breathed in deeply, every time he was close to you, you felt alive in ways you had never felt before, it seemed cliche but that's just how you felt, not to forget how tingly every inch of your being was whenever you were around him, that sensation of his touch, how he smelled, how desperately you wanted to hold him when he looked at you, all of it was creeping up on you from head to toe and it was happening so fast you didn't even know what even was happening to you anymore.

You had a crush on him that you knew, just the mere thought of it felt ridiculous, you should have been married with children by now, that's what everyone tried to tell you, but you couldn't really help how you were starting to feel about him, especially after the way he had kissed you last night and how greatly you had enjoyed it.

After that ridiculously gentle encounter with you Eric sat down in his room with his pencil and paper as he sketched and sketched, it was a picture of you in that dress you had worn last night, been a while he had seen someone so beautiful but so unique at the same time, you were a proper woman to him, a work of art, curves in all the right places but that wasn't what intrigued him about you, it was always those damn eyes that always tried to read through him.

He remembered that night in the alley, you were so terrified, so trapped, he had been onto those assholes and was waiting to catch them in the act, he thought he'd have to rescue you like he had rescued plenty of women from degenerates like them in the past but then you passed out, just dropped unconscious as if a switch had been flipped, he had never met someone who lacked both flight and fight response so tragically.

But there was a moment before you gave up, a fleeting moment when he had seen those terrified eyes of yours, filled with dread and absolute fear, that look stayed with him, he could have just left you somewhere safe and be done with it like had done a plenty of times before but since the moment he saw those eyes of yours, they never left him, they followed him around like a ghost, begging to be saved and protected from the evils of the world.

He could smell the scent of freshly baked lasagna coming from your apartment but he didn't go knock on your door even though his stomach grumbled, he resisted the urge to go see you again.

An hour later you knocked on his door instead, when he opened it, he didn't see you but found a box of lasagna placed on his doorstep with a sticky note attached to it.

‘A Gift for a gift. Try to enjoy it grumps’

“Fuck” he murmured under his breath as he read it, he walked inside his apartment but then he came back out almost immediately, running his fingers through his hair in frustration he finally gave in and knocked on your door.

“Ever been up on the roof?”

He asked so you gave him a sheepish smile.

Ten minutes later both of you were enjoying the lasagna on the rooftop with the view of the..well dump. He offered you his black jacket because it was getting chilly so now he was just shirtless with all his tattoos on display as if the weather didn't affect him at all.

“I have a question” you said as you put the plate to the side after you were done eating.

"Of course you do” he chuckled and then he licked the fork clean before setting down his own plate. Just that simple gesture made you think of obscene things, you couldn't help but clench your thighs to get rid of those pesky sensations.

"How do you decide what tattoos to get?” you asked and watched his face light up for a moment.

“I just get’ em..gotta say though some of these are drug induced errors” you giggled as he said that. So Mrs Bonnie did have some truth to her words about him being an addict.

“Like the nipple eye one?” You asked him, making him smile, god he had a beautiful smile. Why didn't he smile more often?

“Touché.. I actually wanted that, thought it was cool and edgy when I was twenty” you smiled as he said that before a thought began to bother you.

“Do you still take them? Drugs I mean?” His smile faltered momentarily but then he raised his brows up.

“No, don't need them anymore, get my fix in other ways now” he answered truthfully as he winked. Well poking the eyes out of devil worshippers had a different sort of kick to it.

“Well I'm glad you're clean and sober now, does that feel good?” you asked another question.

“It feels alright i guess”

“Did you design these tattoos yourself since you draw and stuff?” you asked sheepishly.

“Snooping around ..were you?”

“Don't blame me, you had it all around your room”

Indeed, he just hoped you hadn't seen the ones that included you.

“Some of them are mine..some of them were done by a dear friend”

“Hmm will I ever see this friend around? All i see is a hoard of ladies” he chuckled as you said that before he looked away.

“You can't..he's dead”

Your smile disappeared as soon as he said that. Good god this man had been through a wringer and you had a feeling you hadn't scratched even the surface yet.

“I’m sorry i keep asking stupid questions” you mumbled softly so he smiled and shook his head.

“You can't help yourself can you, you're so nosy”

“I won't confirm or deny that statement” he chuckled again as you said that. The last time he felt this way was with Melody, though most of their initial relationship was spent in a drugged foggy haze “You can be nosy if you want, ask me about my life..if tomorrow i die mysteriously and cops come over and question you about me, what will you tell them?” you said to him so he glared at you.

“Dont joke about it, it's not funny” he spoke sternly and you realised how unfunny and insensitive you were being after he told you about his dead horse and dead friend in the same day. Was he afraid of losing you to death? You wanted to be completely delusional and think yes. Of course he was afraid of losing you, he had known you for four weeks after all and you had spent most of those days fighting with each other.

“Okay” you said to him before you spoke again “I have another question”

“They never really end do they?” you shook your head as he said that.

“Are we just going to pretend that we didn't kiss last night?” You asked him as you crawled towards him on your fours, your nose almost touching his own as you reached closer.

“Its better this way” he murmured softly.

“Why?”

“Because I said so” he mumbled again.

“Since when am I listening to you?”

“Since now”

His eyes lingered over your lips, you looked good in his clothes he couldn't deny that but he seemed adamant about his decision so you sat back down on your knees to give him some space, as much as you didn't want to.

“Why don't you have a normal boyfriend?” he asked you to get rid of the sudden sexual tension you had created by crawling towards him and asking him about the sin he had committed last night with you.

“By normal you mean someone who doesn't come home drenched in blood?”

“Quit with the sass and answer me” he said as he lit up a cigarette.

“Well men are not interested in me and I'm not interested in them” he scoffed as you answered him.

“I don't believe that for a second, the part about men not being interested in you”

“No I'm serious..I'm thirty two right? In case you didn't know because I look so young”

“Really? Could have fooled me for a teenager” he mocked.

“Right. Anyways..you see men in their twenties are dating women in their twenties and men my age are dating women in their twenties. Men in their late thirties and forties are dating..well can you guess?” You asked him so he gave you a smile. Cute wasn't something he often used for a woman but he did find you cute when you seemed so animated “Yes that is correct.. they're dating women in their twenties because they can” you finished even though he hadn't really guessed or given any response to you “So my options are eighteen year old boys who for some reason keep hitting on me and or fifty year old married men with children and I'm not interested in any of that” he let out a snicker as you said that. Prettiest women often had the most ridiculous insecurities.

“Wow, you speak of yourself as if you're decaying, you're barely in your thirties, I'm sure men your age want to date you but you shoot them down as soon as you can”

Well he wasn't really wrong but then it wasn't your fault that you had no interest in dating someone if you didn't want to fuck them. You had done the whole ‘let's date because there's emotional compatibility’ thing and regretted it because at the end most men are purely sexual creatures.

“I'm a waitress, i promise you there are no prince Harrys lining up for me out there..enough about me.” you said as you grabbed the cigarette from him and took a small drag.

He was so intrigued by your charm that he hadn't realised he was being watched from a distance, someone had been keeping an eye on him.

A link from his past, an enemy he didn't even know existed but was after his blood now and that enemy would do anything to hurt him as much as Eric had hurt him when he killed Vincent Roeg.

Later that night he heard a knock on his door again and he didn't have to guess who it was.

“You forgot your jacket” you said as he opened his door, you had your arms crossed, the jacket still clinging around on your body, he hated the thought of his jacket smelling so sweet like you now, as if he wasn't being tortured enough as it was. He sighed as he placed one of his palms on the frame of the door. He then grabbed the collar of his jacket with his other hand and pulled you closer to him. The moany gasp that left your mouth at the gesture made his cock hard in a second.

“Don't do this to me” he said as he slipped his jacket off your shoulders, the revealing tank top you had on underneath made him drop the jacket right on the floor, he couldn't help but curse profanities under his breath.“Don't fucking do this to me y/n”

“What am I doing Eric?” you asked as you looked up at him,

“Don't play stupid with me, you knew what you were doing when you put this on and knocked on my door” he said as his fingers pulled the strap of your tank top and then gently grazed over your now erect nipples that were straining through the thin fabric of the tank top.

“You're the one touching me” you mumbled, voice completely breathless, you were surprised you were still on your feet somehow and your voice was still intact.

He suddenly had his palm wrapped around your throat as he pushed you against the wall next to the door, the only light coming into his dark apartment was the one from the hallway and they reflected right through his eyes. God he looked dangerous in that moment, dangerous and sexy.

“Don't play games with me sweetheart, doesn't suit you, you look so stupid right now you know that hmm?” he said as his thumb rubbed over your lips, why did he his words turn you on so much when you'd have felt so insulted if it was said by some other man “I'm not the type of man you would ever want or need in your life” he said to you, his voice gruff but there was a hint of passion.

“How do you know what I need or want?” you asked, albeit a bit boldly.

“Oh I don't. And I don't want to know. Honestly what's wrong with you huh? What kind of girl sees a man drenched in blood and instead of turning the other way she willingly crashes into him over and over again” he whispered against your mouth, it took everything to not latch your lips to his own, just so he'd stop talking and kiss you like he was supposed to.

“I lose my damn mind around you” you mumbled as you placed your hand on his wrist.

“That much is evident”

His grip on your throat loosened, not that it was tight enough to hurt to begin with, you were actually enjoying it, you were going to think about it all night long, he then slowly stepped away from you, much to your disappointment.

He was conflicted, a part of him wanted to fuck you and be done with it, perhaps once the mirage is broken you'd stop being so interested in him after that, but then another part of him feared he'd go completely insane if he was to touch you like that, he feared he'd get addicted to keeping you in his bed every night if he had a taste of you.

“I'm trying to keep you safe y/n, you shouldn't get too close to me, it's for your own good” he said to you, hoping for once you'd listen to him.

“Okay” you nodded as he said that, you felt disappointed and embarrassed, but you understood his point, he had lost people before, he had been hurt and perhaps he blamed himself for all of it, that's why he was so guarded and afraid of forming attachments. You weren't very keen on doing so either but there was something about him that made all the rational thoughts go extinct in your head.

That night as Eric finally laid down in his bed, he had a nightmare, a terrible nightmare about that night him and Melody were attacked in his loft, when they killed her right in front of him and he didn't do anything to save her, he just yelled and screamed like the weak pathetic boy he was, the dream was so vivid and then that dream ended up in a sleep paralysis which had him clenching and sweating profusely on his sheets.

When he woke up he felt like he was being suffocated again so he sat up on his bed and placed his head between his palms as he allowed the tears to shed. He had to let them out once in a while or he knew they would just continue to build up until he'd crumble on his knees and he couldn't afford that luxury any longer, he couldn't run towards drugs and live an ignorant blissful life.

Why was he so alone? Why did Melody leave him like that? He wasn't an easy person to love. He knew that very well, but he tried, with Melody he tried so hard to keep her, she died and he felt he had lost her forever but he got the chance to have her back and then she left him, just like that. How could she?

He wiped his tears before he laid down again. After trading his soul he knew he'd never be normal again, he thought doing god's work would lessen some of the guilt he carried but it didn't. Not really.

Melody loved him, he felt her love when they were together but then if she did why didn't he have his soul returned to him the moment he had brought her back?

Kronos told him if there was true love in his destiny his soul would unite with him someday but that didn't happen with her.

The thought of you crossed his mind briefly, why did you stumble upon his life? He had given up on forming human connections until you came along and now you were gently forcing yourself in his life more and more everyday and for once he felt powerless, he knew it would hurt, he knew it would hurt so badly when he'd give into those eyes of yours and would let out his demons in front of you and then just like Melody you'd turn around to walk out on him but a part of him wanted to go through that pain, feel things other than just misery and loneliness.

He wanted to remember what it felt like to be loved again but at the end of the day he knew you didn't deserve someone like him. He knew he'd only endanger your life somehow.

What he didn't know at the moment was that he already had.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Taglist: @m-riaa @erebus-et-eigengrau @peachychyy

[loonao3o]

“A Dangerous Game”

The train station was nearly empty, the air thick with the hum of fluorescent lights. You sat slumped on the cold bench, staring at the cracked floor tiles beneath your feet. Another job interview had ended in failure, another door slammed shut in your face. The weight of it all bore down on you like a stone.

“You look like someone in need of a little excitement.”

The voice startled you, smooth and polished, like a salesman who’d already closed the deal before you even knew you were buying.

You looked up. A man in a crisp gray suit stood before you, his briefcase in one hand, an oddly familiar smile on his face. It wasn’t just his perfect appearance that unnerved you—it was the way his dark eyes seemed to pin you in place, as if he saw something in you even you didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked, blinking at him.

The man’s smile widened as he sat beside you, placing his briefcase carefully between his polished shoes. “I said, you look like you could use some excitement. Or maybe a second chance.”

You frowned. “Who are you?”

He chuckled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out two brightly colored squares of paper—one red, one blue. “Think of me as… an opportunity,” he said, holding them up. “Do you know how to play ddakji?”

The sight of the paper tiles brought back faint childhood memories—games played on dusty playgrounds, the loud slap of paper against paper. You didn’t answer.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten,” he said, his tone almost teasing. He placed the blue tile on the ground and held the red one out to you. “Let me remind you.”

You hesitated, eyeing him warily. “Why? What’s in it for you?”

“Oh, I don’t need anything from you,” he said, leaning back against the bench. “Except maybe… your willingness to play. If you win, I’ll give you 100,000 won. If I win, well…” He paused, his smile sharpening. “You can pay with your body.”

Something in your gut screamed that this was a mistake, that this man was dangerous. But there was a pull to him, an almost magnetic charm that made you want to prove yourself. And the money—100,000 won for a simple game? It felt too easy.

You grabbed the red tile.

“Good,” he said, sitting forward, his eyes gleaming. “Your turn.”

The first round ended quickly. You threw the tile with more force than precision, and it barely grazed the blue square.

“Don’t rush,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “It’s not about power—it’s about control.”

His turn came next. With a quick flick of his wrist, the red tile smacked down hard against the blue one, flipping it instantly. He looked up at you with a grin that was equal parts charming and unnerving.

“That’s one for me,” he said.

Your frustration mounted as the rounds went on. No matter how much you tried to focus, his throws were effortless, precise. You were outmatched, and he knew it.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you said bitterly after yet another loss.

“Perhaps,” he admitted, leaning back. “But not for the reasons you think.”

That caught you off guard. His gaze lingered on you, softer now, though no less intense. It made your chest tighten, as though he could see every corner of your soul.

“What do you mean?” you asked cautiously.

He smiled again, but this time, it was tinged with something almost… regretful. “You’re fascinating, you know that?”

Your face flushed. “What?”

“You have nothing,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “No money, no job, no prospects. And yet, here you are—fighting, hoping. Most people in your position would have given up by now. But you…” His gaze flicked down to the tile in your hand. “You still want to win.”

His words stung, but there was something else buried in them—a strange kind of admiration.

“Why do you care?” you asked.

He tilted his head, as if considering the question. “Maybe because I see something in you,” he said softly. “Something rare.”

The tension between you hung heavy in the air. For a fleeting moment, you thought you saw something real in his expression, something unguarded.

Then it was gone.

“Last round,” he said, straightening. “Make it count.”

You took a deep breath, focusing all your frustration and determination into the throw. The tile hit the ground with a sharp crack, flipping his blue square over.

You gasped. “I did it.”

He clapped slowly, his smile widening. “Impressive,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a crisp 100,000 won bill. He held it out to you, his fingers brushing yours as you took it.

The contact sent a shiver through you. His touch was warm, grounding, but there was something unsettling about the way his gaze lingered.

“What happens now?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

His smile softened, but the gleam in his eyes darkened. “Now,” he said, rising to his feet, “you have a choice.”

“What choice?”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “You can walk away, take the money, and forget this ever happened. Or…” He tilted his head, studying you. “You can play a much bigger game.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. “What kind of game?”

His smile deepened, and for a moment, he looked almost sad. “A game that could change everything for you,” he said. “But be warned: once you start, there’s no going back.”

The weight of his words settled over you, but before you could respond, he leaned in slightly, his voice barely audible.

“I hope you choose wisely, Y/N.”

And with that, he was gone, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the station.

You sat there for a long time, the red tile still in your hand, the faint imprint of his touch lingering on your skin.

Deep down, you knew that whatever game he was offering, it would cost you more than you could imagine.

[jaembun]

your golden arrow went through my heart.

dancing together at a wedding.. he can’t help but think about your own ！⠀⸻⠀na jaemin x gnr ⠀ fluff he’s soooo downbad ⠀ wc 1.5k ⠀ now playing . . ☆

생각⠀FFFFFFUCKKKKK I NEED HIMMM. plagiarising myself sorry yeonjun

the smell of champagne, perfume, cake, and smoke was rife in the large hall, multicoloured lights bouncing off every wall and poking into every crevice of the high ceiling. you knew jaemin’s family was fairly large, of course, but for every guest they must’ve extended an invite to at least three of their friends as well—everywhere you looked there was another person: a niece there, a work friend of his father’s here, an uncle there.

but you supposed the extravagance and the sheer size was necessary for a wedding—jaemin’s cousin’s, to be specific, who looked gorgeous in a gold-accented gown with the train and jewels to match, and who was currently being spun around on the dance floor by her newly wedded husband. the ceremony was beautiful, the reception was beautiful, and perhaps the most beautiful of all was the who-knows-how-many-tiers of wedding cake that you’d already helped yourself to three slices of, as well as reluctantly feeding jaemin bites of when he’d pouted and tugged at your hand until you’d given in.

he looked satisfied now, nestled into your side in the quietest corner of the almost-pitch-black hall while the music played and people danced, his younger relatives twirling each other in circles or skidding along the smooth flooring with balloons tied around their wrists and confetti stars glittering whenever they caught the lights from where they were tangled within their hair. other guests had chosen to hang back, settling at the tables nearer the other end of the venue (and nearer the food) with glasses in their hands and smiles on their faces. 

the pair of you hadn’t spoken in a while, content to sway gently to the music, and you assumed he’d fallen quiet because he was tired; worn out from the job that was trailing around the hall and saying hello to all the people he knew and a few he didn’t. and while that had taken a little out of him, the reality was that jaemin was only silent because he was biting his tongue—out of fear he’d do something stupid like get on one knee and propose to you right there and then, with nothing except his pocket square as a makeshift ring and the burning urge to ask you to be his for as long as you’d have him.

he wouldn’t do that, of course. it’d get him kicked out for stealing his cousin’s thunder, for starters. it’d be like his aunt standing up on a table and announcing that she was pregnant. the second reason was simply that he didn’t know what you’d say.

well. actually, not really. he would bet fairly confidently that you’d say yes—but you’d say it eventually. now was.. too soon. he’d need to have drawn up a down-to-the-last-detail plan, secure approval from all of your friends and family, and asked renjun for the best place to get the rings before he could even think of asking. it was just—how could he be standing here with you, in amongst all the love and the glitter and the music, and not think of dropping to one knee? he was holding on, but just barely. it would’ve taken nothing more than seeing the disco lights reflecting in your eyes for all his resolve to deplete, and so he focused on melding himself into your side and staring out onto the dance floor. 

that was, until you slid a hand from out of his hold and around his waist, tugging him to face you and gesturing towards the place you’d both just been watching, asking without saying a word. he could do nothing except nod and let himself be led, teeth pressing into his bottom lip. “marry me,” he wanted to scream, but instead he slung his arms over your shoulders and leaned in to rest his head too close to yours, breaths intermingling as you began an easy sway to the music.

the slow dancing had long been left behind, so your relaxed pace was slightly out of place compared to everyone else, but neither of you could really bring yourselves to care. jaemin would’ve been content to stay like that until the lights turned on again, but was startled by your sudden whispering: “you okay?”

he recovered quickly, easy grin on his lips as he replied, “of course. why wouldn’t i be?” but then he was looking into your eyes as he said it, and the song was just right, and your touch was so gentle—he was tripping over himself into his next words, head crashing down onto your shoulder as he pulled you closer. “i was just.. thinking about the day it’s us doing this, is all.”

when jaemin felt you still for a moment under his palms, his heart dropped to his feet—worried he’d overstepped by even bringing it up, head whipping back up again to laugh it off. but what he found in your face wasn’t disgust or discomfort, it was more gentle surprise, mouth opened with nothing to say. his hands slowly rose to cup your cheeks, and the warmth that met his palms made it impossible to hide the jaw-aching smile his mouth stretched into.

you shied away from his touch, shoulders hunching up in embarrassment at his smile, and jaemin was going to die. his heart was going to burst all over you in a shower of golden confetti and multicoloured stars, he was sure of it. he pressed as close as he possibly could, determined to leave absolutely no space between you, and brought his hands to rest lightly on either side of your neck, fingertips almost touching at the nape. your lips moved to speak, and your voice was quiet, shy. he fell in love all over again.

“jaem. you can’t.. you can’t say that here. it’s too—i’ll get—you just can’t. really.”

“why?” and he had no shame in his whiny tone, pout already on his face. your slow movements turned a little frantic when he twisted the both of you side to side in protest, ignoring a few looks from others on the dance floor. “i’m excited! just—just imagine. me and you. married. it’s gonna be the best.” 

eyes locked with yours, he could see the exact moment you decided to indulge him. “oh really? what colour’s your suit gonna be?”

“your favourite colour.” and jaemin knew he was being over-the-top, knew you’d only scoff and roll your eyes back at him, and he didn’t care. it was true. his suit your favourite colour, the cake your favourite flavour, the music your favourite playlist. he’d do it all for you.

“so sappy, jaem,” you teased, head leaning forward until your foreheads rested against one another. “keep it up and i might start to think you’ve got a ring box at home.”

not yet. but soon. after a talk with renjun. after a little more time. some part of jaemin wished he did have one stashed away in an unused draw, though. so he could spring it on you as soon as next week, get all the words he wanted to propose to you with out of his head, to hold your hand and feel the cool metal of an engagement band against his skin. not yet. soon. he repeated the words aloud to you, delighted at how the skin of your nape flushed hotter under his touch.

“i wanna kiss you.” his gaze was unwavering, hands desperate around your neck, cheeks red and grin gleaming at you through the dark. 

you flustered again, hands dipping in and out of his back pockets just for something to do, somewhere to put them. “not—not here. everyone can see.”

jaemin was still unbothered, knowing, annoying. “don’t care. i’ve been showing you off all night, they know you’re mine. and it’s dark!”

your shoulders heaved in a put-upon sigh, and he knew he’d won, leaning in and smiling into it. no matter how many times he’d done this, it always felt like the first time for jaemin—colours exploding behind his closed eyes, his whole body feeling golden. he chased you every time you tried to pull away, coaxing you back in, not letting you up for air until both of you were desperate for breath.

“one day,” he mouthed into your jaw, voice no louder than a whisper. “it’ll be us. it will. i’ll be so—i’ll make it—just. i promise.”

“okay, jaem,” you whispered back, hands now fully settled wrapped around his waist. “okay.”

the song shifted into another, and it was one you both knew; both loved. he couldn’t stop smiling even when you halted your soft swaying in place of more energetic, fitting movements, and instead joined in with you—fingers interlocked, his eyes on you the whole time. talks of weddings and proposals and suit colours could easily be discussed another time. tomorrow, if he wanted. it’d been fun entertaining ideas for a while, but tonight, now, he was going to enjoy himself. with you. the only reason he was having those dreams at all.

[that-basic-simp]

Careful, I Bite

Mizu x Fem!Reader CW: Kind of citrusy. Possessive(?) Mizu WC: 1.2k+

Following Mizu's glares, they were all towards the men that were in this brothel. Again, why we were here, I don't know. It was Taigen's idea for some reason. And he was with Akemi. The woman he was supposed to marry was here in a brothel with other women. Maybe he did it to give Mizu some kind of nudge to find someone. Little did he know Mizu and I were together. We hid our relationship behind closed doors and away from Taigen. Away from others, too.

"Why are we even here?" I asked Taigen.

"See if Mizu can find someone that fits to his liking," Taigen said, his face a little flushed, clearly he was drunk.

I glanced over at Mizu, who was rolling her eyes, sipping at the tea in her hands. I shook my head and continued to drink my tea as well. There were other men who were eyeing me with some lustful looks. I moved closer to Mizu, who slowly reached underneath the table and placed her hand on my knee. She kept a close eye on the people here, making sure no one decided to pull a move on me.

"Hey, pretty lady," a guy walked over to me, trying to put his hand on my shoulder.

Mizu set her tea down and turned, grabbing the guy's wrist, pushing it away from me.

"Back off," Mizu said.

"Hey. I just want to show the pretty lady a nice time."

"I said," Mizu stood up, pushing the guy's shoulders. "Back off."

"What are you going to do about it, blind boy?" the guy back handed Mizu across the face, knocking the glasses from her face.

She turned her head to where the guy couldn't see her eye color. Reaching down, I grabbed the glasses from the floor, handing it to her. She nodded her head towards me, placing them back on before turning to face the man.

"I would advise you don't ever do that again," Mizu said.

"And I said, what are you going to do about it?"

Mizu reached down and grabbed the hilt of her sword, pushing the guard, popping it open, but not removing the blade.

"I don't think you'd want these poor ladies here to clean up blood," Mizu said.

"Do it," the man said. "You won't."

"Mizu," I stood up, placing my hand on her arm.

Mizu sighed and pushed the blade back into the sheath, stepping back.

"That's what I thought," the man said and walked off.

Mizu sighed and grabbed my wrist, walking off down a hall.

"How much for a private room?" she asked to the woman in charge.

"Normal price."

"Can you ensure that we don't get interrupted?"

"If you pay extra."

Mizu reached into her pocket and pulled out some coins, placing it in the woman's hand.

"All the way down the hall and to the left."

Mizu and I walked down the hall and she slid the door open. Stepping in, she closed the door, but she didn't face me.

"Mizu?" I asked. "A-Are you alright?"

"Taigen," she hissed.

"Are you upset that we're here when we're together?"

"Yes."

"Why don't we tell him that we're together?"

"I'd rather let him see it. Let everyone see that you belong to me."

She said it in a low and raspy voice, the voice she uses to disguise herself. A shiver went up my spine, causing the hair on the back of my neck and on my arms to stand up. Goosebumps appeared momentarily as she turned her head to look at me.

"U-Uhm, M-Mizu?"

Reaching up, she removed her glasses, a dark look appearing in them. They looked like the deepest depths of the sea with how dark they looked. It felt like I would get lost and drown in those waters. Drown in what Mizu was. Turning her entire body now, she grabbed my shoulders and pinned me to the ground. I was still processing what she said, but now this added another level to comprehend what was going on.

"M-Mizu?"

"Say it just like that, but maybe make it more of a whine. Or a whimper. I don't care," she said, tucking her head into the crook of my neck.

Her mouth pressed quick kisses against my soft skin. She reached up and moved my kimono aside a bit to reach other areas of my neck, such as my collarbone and shoulder. Before I knew it, those kisses turned into slight sucking. It was an odd sensation to feel as her mouth opened up, her tongue running up and down my skin before she closed her lips around my skin, sucking harder than before.

"Mizu," I breathed out, my eyes fluttering closed as my hips bucked up into hers.

"Not tonight, Y/N," she said. "Maybe when we're in a more private setting and it's just the two of us."

"Please, Mizu," I whispered.

"Yeah, ya like it when I kiss and suck your neck, baby?" she asked, sucking a bruise right in the middle of my neck. "You're mine. No one else's."

Hearing those words come from Mizu made something in my brain tingle, causing a fog to be cast down upon me. Like I was walking in the morning fog after a cold rain cooled down a hot summer day. My arms wrapped around her neck, my one hand digging into her hair, removing it from her ponytail. Her long, dark hair cascaded down upon us as she continued to kiss and suck at my neck. Her teeth finally grazed along my delicate skin. She nipped here and there before she reached the middle of my neck, a small sigh escaping from my lips.

"There we are," she said and harshly bit down.

I lurched forward, a moan escaping my lips as Mizu's teeth sunk into my skin, definitely leaving a mark. She pulled away, her tongue grazing across the area to soothe it. Going to the other side, she did the same and then down both sides of my shoulders. Finishing, she pulled away, some blood in the corner of her mouth. I looked up into those dark eyes of hers, finding a bit of a hungry, possessive look. I should have been scared, but it was Mizu. I trusted her and she knew I trusted her. And she trusted me.

"Gotta let these fuckers know who you belong to," she whispered huskily.

Another shiver went down my spine as she stood up, pulling her hair back into her ponytail. Grabbing her glasses, she placed them on her face and with her thumb, swiped away the blood that was at the corners of her mouth.

"You ok?" she asked.

I nodded my head, "Y-Yeah."

Extending out her hand, she helped me up and to my feet.

"Was I too rough, Y/N?"

"N-No, not at all."

"Ok. If I do get too rough, please tell me. I don't want to ever hurt you."

"I will, Mizu," I said, taking her hand.

We walked out of the room and headed back to where Taigen and Akemi were. Sitting down across from them, we went back to drinking our tea. Akemi took one look at my neck and then glanced over at Mizu, piecing the puzzle together. A sly smile appeared and when I found her gaze, she nodded, winking at me. I smiled, going back to drinking my tea.

"What's wrong?" Taigen asked.

"Nothing," we all said.

Taigen turned to face me, looking at the marks on my neck.

"How did you get those? Just now?"

"Yeah," I said, sipping my tea.

"By who?"

Mizu moved ever so closely to me, her arm wrapping around my waist. Looking in between the two of us, Taigen looked confused. Mizu, being Mizu, eyed him before tucking her face into the crook of my neck once more, biting down again.

"Oh shit," Taigen whispered.

[midnightarcheress]

you’re going out.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: pining simon denying till his grave 5 | gold rush masterlist.

Simon was sitting in your living room, hands in the pockets of his jacket and boot anxiously tapping on the wood floor as he waited for you to get ready. you hadn’t seen each other since the trip to France, still too scared to leave your house after that last note, so he wasn’t expecting your rushed text about going out tonight.

“i’m so sorry for calling you last minute,” you say, closing the loop of your earring as you walk out of your bedroom, trying your best not to be late, “a friend invited me for dinner, and i’m not exactly allowed to leave the house without you, so–”

“‘s alright” he mumbles, cutting your rambling and turning to see you, his heart nearly stopping at the view. you’re stunningly standing by the couch, one hand propped on the armrest for support as you lean down to strap your heels, struggling to maintain your balance. in a swift motion, Simon pulls you closer, gently lifting your calf so he could clasp it for you, not noticing your small gasp at his touch and how intimate the gesture must look to anyone else.

he doesn’t mind accompanying you or, in this case, guarding you. it’s nice to have you near, even if it’s just for a few hours and out of arm's reach, it's enough to save him from the dullness of his own life. but tonight is different, new, nerve-inducing. you’re going out with someone. he only ever had to be with you when you’re alone roaming the city or in event-related situations. what the fuck is the etiquette for chaperoning a dinner with a friend?

on the way to the restaurant, he learned that your company is an ex-co-star from one of your movies, who just happened to be your romantic interest. of course. he couldn't help the slight frown that appeared on his face and the small discomfort building in his stomach at the thought of watching you charming some guy for heaven knows how long. the text that gave him hope suddenly turned into a modern-time curse from the gods in a matter of seconds.

the soft piano playing in the background did nothing to steady his heartbeat when the hostess led you to the guy waiting by the window, twenty-thousand-pound watch on his wrist and a smug grin on his face, placing a hand dangerously close to your hip when you greeted him. Simon was placed near the bar, easy path to the exit and a clear view of you, but no liberty to drink away the misery of not being the one making you beam so widely.

it felt like torture, containing the venomous jealousy coursing through his veins, festering his flesh and rotting his brain with gruesome schemes of how he could end this in the blink of an eye. if he had a throwing knife, the guy’s blood would already be pooling under the table and you’d be long one, out of the shackles of your restricting life, far from sycophants and parasites, just safe from whatever threat that wants to maim you.

but he couldn't do that. saving you it’s not on his job description, no matter how badly he wishes to. so he had to endure observing you from afar, watch the soft locks of hair cascading on your face, see your lips take in your third glass of wine, and faintly hear the easy laughter escaping from you after one of the terrible jokes being spit on the table, probably as a consequence of the alcohol, while envy gnawed at the confines of his ribcage and begged to a way out. 

it made no sense for him to feel that way towards you. he was on duty. he was there for a horrible reason, so he felt sorry for you, but how much of it is pity and not true affection? why did the green demon eating his insides subdue when he saw how happy you were? why was his heart nearly skipping a beat whenever you glanced in his direction? certainly, it was just a way to reassure yourself that nothing would happen, but what if it was more? what if he was the reason you retracted your hand when the man in front of you reached for it?

the clock hands moved in a dangerously slow pace, minutes dragging like hours and slipping his mind into a parallel universe where he never left his house, but the sight of the check put on top of the beige cloth of your table was the solace lulling him back to peace. he could finally let out the breath he held since you stepped inside, lungs exhaling and expunging the poison from his system, and drive you back, without a single scratch on your skin.

the ride to your house was quiet, neither speaking more than needed. it wasn’t strange, the communication between the two of you happened mostly out of necessity, but the tension was palpable in the car. his grip on the steering wheel was tight, almost as if he was afraid that if he let go, his hand would rip out every strand of hair standing on his scalp. it was too much. he was relieved to be out of there, confused with the turmoil inside his chest, and angry at himself for getting lost in daydreams about you. 

“can you walk?” Simon asks, holding the passenger door open after stopping at your gate.

“of course i can walk–” your hand finds his arm before your face falls directly into the cobblestones that pave the path to your front door, “okay, maybe i’m a little tipsy.” Simon rolls his eyes after your blithe chuckle and snakes a hand around your waist, helping you head inside.

once in the warmth of your home and after making sure you weren’t too drunk to take care of yourself, he walked out, stomach churning as he tried to ignore the distress of the night and get ready to melt his troubles with a bourbon. but before he could press the code of the alarm and relax his stiff shoulders, your harrowing scream made his heart drop and his legs sprint back to you, fast as lightning strikes, images of the worst possible scenarios already flooding his vision.

his laboured breath meets you pressed against the wall, wide tear-rimmed eyes glaring at the mirror of your bedroom, and his blood pressure rises with concern. he turns to gaze at the mirror, assessing what made you so frightened, and his own eyes widen, ‘i don’t appreciate you entertaining other men, darling. don’t forget who you belong to.’

how i love inner struggle