#scream vi gif set

[logray]

SCREAM (1996) SCREAM 2 (1997) SCREAM VI (2023)

[taiturner]

Melissa Barrera as Sam Carpenter SCREAM VI (2023) dir. Matt Bettinelli-Olpin & Tyler Gillett

[arcadiabay]

MELISSA BARRERA as SAMANTHA CARPENTER SCREAM VI (2023) dir. Tyler Gillett, Matt Bettinelli-Olpin.

[k-fangirledits]

[some-film-guy]

Scream VI (2023)

[w1ll0wray]

CAREFUL, I BITE! ft. vampire jinx x fem!reader

⊹₊⟡⋆ summary : being a Kiramman meant enduring social events your mother hosted. once the clock hits christmas eve, a dinner party is always held. however, you knew what that signified— disastrous guests— who add a dash of spice to your night.

⊹₊⟡⋆ warnings: sub!jinx x dom!femreader, jinx receiving strap, past enemies, strap usage, pet name (toots), vampire!jinx x vampire!reader, kiramman!reader, caitlyn is ur sister, men or minors dni, slightly nsfw, smut, mention of forced marriage, harsh words, aftercare.

wc. 4.4k

𐙚 note | I��d really appreciate it if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you:)

The bats scattered from the treetops, their wings slicing through the thick night air. Inside, the Kiramman household fell into an unnatural silence, servants terrified for their lives. Lifting your head up from your book, you frowned at the scream your mother had just let out. 

You sigh, sliding a book stopper in the page you arrived to, leaving your book on the plush, dark red couch. Walking towards your enraged mother, you placed a hand on her shoulder, “Is there a specific reason as to why—?” 

“—The plates-!” She yelled, pointing at the extravagant tableware exclusively shipped from Japan. You raised a brow, turning to the servants who stood frozen. 

“I don’t see a problem with them.” You traced the intricate details with manicured nails. Your mother, however, groaned in irritation, “I specifically asked for the traditional Kiramman ones!” She whined, facing the servants, instructing them to replace the current ones. 

Once she got out of the dining room, you rolled your eyes at her panicked attitude. Though, someone seemed to have caught you.

“Making fun of mother, are you?” Your sister called out, appearing out of nowhere as usual. She leaned against the dark marble wall, wearing a white dress shirt and tailored deep navy pants, beating you at dressing up for the special event tonight. 

You waved an annoyed, dismissal hand at her, “Go snog your fiancé.” Turning away to grab your book, you didn’t notice her standing only inch’s away now. Yelping at her sudden teleportation, you pushed her away, “Ugh, Cait!” 

She chuckled, placing her hands on her hips, eyeing your attire, “You’re still in your sleepwear.” Her fingers pinched the satin material of your set, “Isn’t this mine?” 

Slapping her hand away, you giggled, “Took you long enough to notice—seems like Violet has entirely captured your attention.” You hum out, enjoying her dumbfounded expression before rushing through the halls and into your room. 

Knowing your family, they probably told the guests to arrive an hour earlier incase the snow heavily blocked the main roads. Tonight was Christmas Eve, a night in which your family hosts a grand dinner and invites all their business partners. For you, you only tolerated it because mother always promised to spoil you with gifts afterwards. 

Rapidly changing out of your daywear, you slid into your flowy gown. It was a midnight blue, a corset sitting snug around your waist decorated heavily with intricate black lace and designs. Along with it, the dress exposed your shoulders until the low sleeves hugged your forearms. Humming a tune and putting on a pendant, you heard guests flooding the living rooms downstairs. 

“Great.” You sarcastically muttered, unclasping the lid of your burgundy lipstick, coating your lips with it. After making sure you looked appealing to the public and Kiramman name, you slid into the different living rooms. 

Greeted by numerous guests, you slap on a smile and pretend to thank them for coming. In the corner of your eye, you noticed Caitlyn doing the exact same, but a slightly shorter, pink-haired woman right beside her. 

You smiled at how adorable they looked together, remembering when your mother had caught Vi in Cait’s bed after last years dinner. To be fair, Vi did come from a wealthy, vampiric background, her father owned the mines containing all the beautiful gems.  So truth to be told, your parents had let her join the family. 

Sneakily escaping the crowd, you slid into another living room, where your father was. Jumping in surprise, you let out a small apology. Not even glancing at who he was speaking to, you tried to get out—but your name falling from his lips force you to stay put. 

Slowly turning back to him, you finally realize who stood beside him. Two men in traditional, formal attire, met your eyes. One, you recognized as Vander. The other..had a scar on one side of his face. 

Father gently took your hand in his, pulling you beside him, “This is my youngest.” He introduced you, patting your back when you slightly bow your head. Vander smiles warm-heartedly, “It’s nice to finally meet you, sweetheart.” 

He then turns his head to look for someone, “Claggor— Come here!” You tried not to let your smile slip as a boy a bit older approached. Vander had his hand on his son’s shoulder, “This is Claggor—my oldest. The rest of them are scattered around the house somewhere.” He joked, chuckling at his own joke, but you laughed along. 

You glance at Silco, who seemed to be studying you, skepticism evident in his gaze. Feeling a bit out of place, you dismiss yourself and enter the other living room reserved for the younger guests. 

Immediately spotting all your cousins sitting at a corner in the room, you didn’t peer to the left to even notice who played at the pool table. 

Halfway through reaching your cousins, a loud cheer and a familiar raspy voice prompt you to snap your head to the left. 

“Score! Ekko you suck ass at this—might s’well just quit.” Anyone would recognize the owner of the voice.

The one and only—

“Oh my god, toots!” Her arm wraps around your shoulder, playfully forcing you into a hug where you’re mostly squished. Groaning at the lack of oxygen, you pull away, squinting your eyes at her, “Stop calling me that.” 

She rolls her eyes, her fingers messing up your hairdo, causing you to push her off in pure frustration, “We haven’t seen each other in a year!” Jinx eyes your attire for a split second before walking back to the pool table, where Ekko, Vi and Caitlyn played. 

“Jinx, stop annoying her.” Ekko whispered as you drew near, inspecting her dress shirt and dark pants. Jinx only graced you with a quick glance, turning her attention to picking the stick back up to play.  Crossing your arms, you grew bored of watching them fight at who was better, and made your way over to your cousins. 

Big mistake.

The minute you sat down with them, all they could chat about was how expensive their next shopping item would be. In addition, the cousin you tolerated the most, suddenly whispered vile words to you, “Jinx is kinda cute.” She giggled, checking the blue-haired girl lean her body into the table, creepily focused on shooting the ball. 

You didn’t know why, but that comment of hers made you instantly shoot back, “She’s far from who you think she is.” 

You dozed off on Jinx’s face as an old memory emerged from the dead.

Flashback:

Last year on Christmas Eve.

Jinx sits alongside you at the dinner table, busy goofing around with her siblings. You only resorted to cutting up the food on your plate, your back growing numb from how straight you sat on the chair. Your mother’s presence shooting daggers at your back, silently telling you to act proper. Peering up at Caitlyn, you envied how courageous she was, breaking some rules mother had put out. 

She was definitely into Violet, you thought, as she continued intensely staring at Vi’s lips instead of her eyes. Letting out a sigh of boredom, you glanced at the girl beside you, her fingers acting out the scene she was explaining. Though, Mylo caught you staring, a mischievous grin forming on his lips.

“Yo, you ever got with someone?” He asks out of nowhere, forcing you out of your little bubble. Your heart leaped in your chest, everyone on the table turning quiet as they awaited your answer. Fidgeting with the satin fabric of your gown, you felt a blush creep up your face, “Uhm— I haven’t yet.” 

Jinx chuckled, leaning back in her seat, her gaze on you, “I can’t imagine you in a relationship.” 

You frowned, silently hurt by that statement, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Your tone came out harsher then intended, causing Caitlyn’s brows to shoot up in surprise. Jinx stayed relaxed, shrugging her shoulders, “I don’t see you in a relationship with anyone.” 

Her eyes bore into yours, but you rapidly looked away when tears started to form in the corner of your eyes. You stared down at the pattern of your gown, hoping someone would just cut in and pretended this never happened. Clenching your fists, you held back the tears, narrowing your eyes at the food laying untouched on your plate. 

Afterwards, Jinx finally continued her human-hunting storytelling with her siblings, as if she hadn’t just insulted you. Feeling a tear about to drop, you swiftly wiped it away, throat clogging up. As if on cue, your eyes blurred from the water gathering, leading to Caitlyn and Vi noticing. 

“Hey, you good?” Vi lowly questioned, earning an elbow in the gut from Cait. Trying your best to smile, you nodded, 

“Perfect.” 

That night, you silently cried into your pillow, wishing you’d never gone to the dinner. 

Flashback end. 

Blinking away those rough memories, you darted your gaze at Jinx’s body fully arched forward on the pool table as she aimed. To be fair, your cousin was right about her being cute in a way. 

“I’m sure she’d like me.” Your cousin twirled a hair, fawning over the blue-haired girl.  Rolling your eyes, you got up and made your way towards Jinx. 

Regretfully, once your hand touched her forearm and she glanced at you, stunned, your mother barged in, “Dinner is ready!” 

Your corset was stabbing your front.

Unconsciously sitting down in front of Jinx and in between Claggor and Ekko, you felt trapped. Your mother had organized three dinner tables, you ended up on the ‘kids’ table again. Once the food was served, you sensed your stomach growling, the pomegranate juice you drank 2 hours ago not helping. As you lifted your hand to pick up the knife, your father’s fork gently tapping on a glass from another table caught everyone’s attention. 

“Excuse me, everyone!” He cleared his throat, raising his glass up as everyone quieted down. He then smiled, “I’d like to thank you all for attending our Christmas Eve dinner again—“ He then started explaining how special it meant to him. 

You started dozing off into another world, until you heard his next words, “I’m also glad to announce that i’ll be accepting marriage proposals for my youngest daughter!” He glanced at you, not noticing your eyes silently telling him to shut up. 

Feeling everyone’s intensive stare, you instantly shot up from your seat, ignoring your mothers voice as you stormed out the dining room. Fury filled within as you ran up the stairs, holding up your dress and heels clacking against the carpet. 

Heavily breathing, you slammed your bedroom door shut, grabbing the first thing you saw—a vase filled with velvet roses and shattering it against the carpeted floor. Letting out a frustrated scream, you huffed and laid on your bed, frowning up at the ceiling filled with carved designs. 

Few minutes passed and startlingly, a knock is heard from the other side of your door. Scoffing, you sat up, “Go away!” You cry out, crossing your arms at their absurd interruption of your thoughts. 

Another knock is heard, prompting you to groan, flicking your hair back before stomping towards the door, it goes flying open. 

Your scowl is replaced by a bewildering gaze at the sight of Jinx waiting outside your door. 

“what on earth are you doing h—?” 

She cuts you off,

“—what on earth are you doing here?” Jinx imitates your British accent, shoving your shoulder with hers as she walks into your room, “Caitlyn and Vi forced me to come fetch you.” She continues to observe  the room, stopping at your vanity. Closing the door, you stopped beside her, puzzled by her behavior. 

“You don’t have to—“ 

She turns around, leaning her face into yours in a flash, only a couple of centimeters away, “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Her rose-hued eyes entrancing you, “..You should’ve told me.” 

Incapable of finding your words, you resorted to stepping back, holding your hands up, “I got over it. I’m fine now.” Jinx shook her head, her arms behind her back as she continuing stepping closer. 

She tilted her head to the side, a lazy smile forming, her pointy fangs coming into view, “Don’t lie to me, toots.” Her tone clearly holding a hint of manipulation or…threatening you. You raised a brow, but the memories of what happened just now came rushing back. 

“It doesn’t matter—you were right,” You huffed out, palms clenching and avoiding Jinx’s piercing stare, “My father is going to force me into a marriage with a man who can offer enough money and—“ You felt tears starting to spill and sobs starting to escape. You felt defeated, knowing that you were only a pawn in your fathers games.

Jinx froze up but then guided you to the end of the bed, sitting you down with her, removing your palms from shielding your tear-stained face, “Don’t cry, toots. You’re ruining your pretty makeup.” She wiped away the mascara stains, her soft touch led to you calming down. Sniffling, you glanced at the shattered glass on the floor. 

Returning your attention to Jinx, you felt depressed, “Why does Cait get to marry the woman she adores?” You didn’t want to seem jealous. You were truly happy for your older sister, but knowing she gets to marry the love of her life made you think it was unfair. Jinx only shrugs, rolling her eyes, “I don’t know what she finds attractive in my sister.” 

Her comment prompts you to let out a laugh, “At least she’s kind.” Jinx scrunched up her nose, “And i’m not?” She leaned into your face, large innocent-looking eyes peering at you. 

Glancing away from her, you pressed your lips together, “From experience, you’re not particularly nice.” Jinx chuckles, nudging my shoulder, “But toots, I only ever said that because I didn’t want you in a relationship.” 

Snapping your head towards her, you scoff, “Are you serious?—“ 

She nods, laying on your bed with her elbows holding her up.

“And plus, it’s not like your father won’t accept a woman if she ever…” Jinx trailed off, eyes darting up to yours, as if caught like a deer in headlights. Knitting your brows together, you twist your upper body to lean over her, noticing her shoulders tense up, “Jinx, don’t tell me you’ve got a crush—“ 

The door slams open behind you, the presence of Caitlyn and Vi gracing you both. Whirling around, you scowl at their interruption, “Did you forget how to knock?” Vi acknowledged you for a split second before finding Jinx, still manspreading her legs on the edge of your bed. 

“Jinx—Silco is still waiting for his wine!” Vi tugged her up, confusingly staring at the room, “How’d you end up here instead?” She whispered, not letting Jinx respond, rushing her out. Caitlyn immediately closed the door, wrapping her arms around you, “I’m so sorry about father.” She mumbled into your hair, soothing the strands, “I spoke to mother— she’ll fix everything.” You knew your father wouldn’t listen, but you answered with nothing more than a nod. 

Caitlyn successfully convinced you to head back downstairs, sneaking in some roasted potatoes and other side dishes into the living room. She sat with you, whispering about how ridiculous their cousins looked with tacky jewelry. Soon, the dinner was over and some guests had already taken their leave, As a result, the remaining guests were primarily close family, Vi’s included. 

Because of a less crowd, mother opened up the ballroom, forcing younger people to start dancing along the music the musicians created. Dodging your mother, you watched your sister teach Vi the foot work, giggling when Vi failed miserably. 

“Jinx— Behave.” A rough tone cut from behind, compelling you to spin around. There stood Silco, telling Jinx off. She didn’t seem bothered, opting on playing with her braid. The girl looked bored. 

Glancing at your father— seated close to the dance floor and speaking to partners, an idea popped in your head. Grinning, you pushed through your cousins, reaching the duo. 

“Sorry, could I borrow Jinx for a minute?” You gently asked Silco, already taking Jinx’s hand in yours. Overlooking Jinx’s speechless expression, you pulled her alongside you till the dance floor. You swiftly get into position, hand on her shoulder—the other intertwined with her hand. Jinx grins teasingly, “Desperate for a dance, toots?” Compared to her sister, Jinx knew how to waltz, her steps perfectly matching yours. After twirling you around, you were met with her face again, chest colliding with hers, “I don’t want my father introducing me to potential candidates.” You whispered in her ear, wanting your father to notice the intimate exchange. 

Jinx only flashes a cunning smile, hand resting on your waist, “Geez— I can already imagine those old men lining up.” She jokes, leading to you grumbling under your breath, fingers tightening on the material of her dress shirt. Noticing the anxious atmosphere, Jinx pulls you into her, moving you both away from the dance floor, face nuzzling to the side of your face, “How about a little distraction?” She hummed out.

Puzzled by her suggestion, you shrugged and spotted your father watching, prodding you to dart your gaze back on Jinx. Resting your palm on her collarbone, you tilted your head, “Careful, I bite.” You didn’t intend to come across as flirtatious, but Jinx was already wickedly grinning.

To your surprise, she pushes you against the wall, her head dipping to meet your lips in a lustful kiss. Eyes fluttering shut, your hands instinctively rise to tangle in her hair , yanking her closer. Her chilled palms trail up your back, leaving goosebumps. Feeling a presence approach you both, you snatched Jinx’s hand without glancing at the person and slid out the ballroom. 

Jinx giggled, still being led by you to the upper floor. Once you closed your bedroom door shut, you grasped the back of Jinx’s head, slamming your lips against hers. She let out a barely audible moan, stepping back till her leg touched the edge of your bed. Sending you a look, you nodded and pushed her down, attacking her neck. Jinx tried to silence her noises, gripping your hair as you sucked on her skin. 

Your love bites contrasted against the pale skin, little bruises forming on each side of her neck. Pulling away, you bend down to untie her boots, taking them off. Jinx had a star struck visage, gulping when you began unzipping her pants. Not letting her help you, you unbuttoned her dress shirt, sliding it off of her. Jinx was left in her undergarments, her chest completely exposed to you. 

You didn’t waste any time in moving her to the center of the bed, straddling her lap as you took off your corset and slowly pulled up your gown, revealing the royal blue lingerie. Jinx sucked in a breath at the sight of your body, cold palms instantly palming your breasts. Letting her massage your chest, you leaned down to lick her nipple. Eliciting a wince out of her, Jinx’s hands move to your forearms, legs naturally curving upwards, knees nudging your side. Continuing your assault on her nipples, she whined beneath you, chest rising. 

“..toots, I didn’t expect this!” She cried out, whimpering right after, nails scratching your back. Smiling against her sore nipple, you palmed her breast, kissing up her chest until you reach her lips. Engulfing her in a deep kiss, her tongue slid past your lips, prompting you to moan into her. Your hand trails downward—to her upper thigh, squeezing her plush muscle. Biting her lip, Jinx observed as you position yourself below her hips. Grabbing her legs, she squirmed when you spread them apart, exposing her further. 

To her dismay, you kissed the inside of her thighs, not giving her the satisfaction of getting what she wants. A couple of minutes passed, fueling her impatience till she nudged your face with the same leg you currently attended to, “Ugh— c’mon..” 

Displeased with her recklessness, you wrapped your arms under her thighs, forcing them open, “This is what you asked for.” You warned before ripping her panties apart and lowering your head, tongue darting out to deliver a slow, long lick up her pussy.  Gasping, Jinx bucked her hips, running her fingers through your hair, demanding more. You then sucked, your lips hugging her sweet cunt, spotting the blue-haired girl roll her eyes back from the ecstasy. 

Your tongue licked in a circular motion, nose nudging her clit as you forcefully kept your lips attached. Her back arched, a hand gripping the expensive sheets whilst crying out pleas for a release. Chuckling against her pussy, you watched in amusement as her thighs wrapped around your head, struggling to contain her pleasured murmurs, head tilting back to display her bruise covered neck. 

“I can’t— I can’t—!“ She cries out, lower body twitching with the way you edged her clit with kisses. Letting out a groan, she huffed in exasperation when you withdrew from her, “..ugh—you’re so annoying.” She whined out, legs dangling on the bed and curiously watching when you stood up, sliding off the lingerie to unveil yourself. Her lips curled into a grin, shamelessly staring when you opened a drawer, pulling out a strap. 

As you crawled back on the bed, Jinx chuckled, “We’re you plannin’ on using that on me?” She eyed the strap and peeked up at you hovering over. You smiled, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, 

Noticing her eyes dart back at the strap, you licked her earlobe, “….don’t tell me you’re nervous.” She avoided your gaze, looking to the side. 

She rolled her eyes, scoffing, “As if.” She mumbled, sucking in a breath when you spread her legs. You hummed, positioning yourself so that the strap aligned with her center. 

“Be as loud as you want— the walls are sound proof.” You bent down, palms resting on the pillow Jinx’s head laid on. Seeing the way she stared up at you, her eyes revealing a hint of submission, you fold instantly. Her hands come up to rest on your shoulders, a sly grin spreading across her face, “I’m all yours, toots.” 

Her words prompt you to sit up, palm on her lower stomach as you aligned the strap and slowly slid it in. Jinx gasps, hand gripping your wrist. Watching as the length of the strap entered Jinx, you lowered yourself, letting her wrap her legs around your hips. Leaning into her head, you whispered, “This is for embarrassing me last year.” 

In a split second, you pulled the strap halfway out before slamming back into her, causing her to cry out, “Fuck—! I told you—” She’s cut off by her own whimper. 

Continuing your rough actions of pulling out and ramming into her, Jinx didn’t realize how loud she was, her blissful gasps echoing around the room. 

Little did she know, you lied straight to her face. The room was nowhere near soundproof. 

Enjoying the sound of her pleasured groans, you forced her leg up to rest on your shoulder, spreading her further and letting you reach a sensitive spot. Squeezing her soft thighs, your lips pepper her pale, plush skin with wet kisses.

Flinching at the new sensation, Jinx grasps the sheets beneath her as you plunged into her restlessly, “Shit— I’m gonna—“ Her back arches as you sped up, an extremely loud moan escaping her. 

You chuckled as she pled for you to not stop and edge her, muttering curses as she nearly reached her limit. Finally, with a whine and her eyes squeezing shut, the string snapped. 

Observing her chest rise and fall rhythmically, you rubbed the soft skin of her lower stomach, gently pulling out. She lets out heaved breaths, the back of her hand coming up to press against her eyes, “That was…” She trailed off, still out of breath. 

“I’ll go get you towel.” You climbed out the bed, heading to your bathroom and quickly crawling back with a wet towel. As Jinx sat up against the headboard, you untied the bed drapes, hiding yourselves with the thick dark curtains. The blue-haired girl opened up her legs, inspecting the way you sat right in front of her, head bent down to clean her up. Pressing the wet towel against her, she twitched, but didn’t say a word. Humming a calming tune, you resumed to clean her, wincing along with her when you accidentally wiped too hard. 

“Hey, toots.” She whispered above you, prompting you to look up, raising a brow.

She smugly smiled, leaning in, “…wanna get married?” 

extra

The moment she asked, you reluctantly answered, “I would..but my father decides everything.” Jinx pursed her lips, but nodded, letting you continue paying attention to wiping her clean. After that, you checked the time and gasped at the numbers indicating the sunrise. It didn’t change much, you were all used to sleeping in the day and waking up at night. 

Realizing how exhausted Jinx was, you let her stay in your room—her whole family in guests rooms across the halls. You also noticed how often she woke up, as if snapping out of a nightmare. Pulling her closer, you let her snuggle into you, her head resting on your chest. 

Though, when you woke up, it’s as if the whole bed was turned upside down. Some covers slid off the bed, pillows scattered everywhere. Jinx however, changed positions and slept on her stomach, arms wrapped under a pillow and one leg curved upwards. 

She looked so beautiful, you thought, shamelessly glancing at her chest and toned arms. Her face had, for once, a relaxed expression. But you knew better, and opted to gently waking her up for a shower. Your mother would definitely come up to wake you up in a bit for a grand breakfast with all the guests that slept over. 

Fighting Jinx to wake up was hard, she’d turn away from you, grumbling under her breath about needing a couple of minutes. You tried everything, until you had nothing left but to attack her with kisses. Turning her onto her back, you crawled to hover over her, nuzzling your head in the crook of her neck. Once your lips sucked on a spot, she sat up, pushing you off, “I’m up..!” 

Guiding her to the bathroom was worse, her legs were sore, forcing you to hold her up and help her into the warm bath. Bathing together was definitely another level of comfortability.

Let’s just say, that when you both entered the living room, with Jinx limping all over the place, everyone had figured out the story behind the pleasured noises coming out of your room. 

creds to whoever made the banners. thank you for reading! :) reblogs r heavily appreciated

[choas232]

You get injured. G/N! Reader x Steb

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Summary: What was supposed to be a simple club raid goes horribly, horribly wrong. No use of Y/N, neutral terms and they/them is used to refer the reader. I try to be as vague as possible surrounding their anatomy. Set in episode three, season 2, just before and around the Jinx and Vi fight scene. Hurt & some comfort. ANGRY reader as suggested by @f0xtr0x.

CWs: Panic attack. Profanity. Violence. Use of alcohol. Suggestive themes. Vi and Caitlyn are briefly implied to be sleeping together. Nudity. Once again, canon typical Enforcer bigotry.  Mild emetophobia (one, two lines. both breif). Anatomically incorrect injuries. Reader is a bitter individual who needs to go to therapy!!!

Word count: 5.1k

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

You’re alone.

The floor is hard against your spine, your attacker’s bloody lip bubbling down onto your face as they snarl above you. Your own lips are stained with it; as rose red as their lipstick, your bruised cheek as electric blue as the eyeshadow smeared across their face.

They tear your goggles from your face first. Harsh, fingers clashing against the soft skin surrounding them. Your eyes scream, reddened and raw against the hulking shape of the grey— the thick and almost palatable fog surrounding you two. A thin film over your eyes settles, milky and blurry and does not leave you as you thrash.

Their movements are clumsy and feral, blinded by the grey as they go for your mask.

There is a beat to the madness, one you clutch after and hold deep into you. It reverberates, even as panic flairs through you— you grab their skull in yours, and your fingers slide through hair slick with blood and sweat before you find a grip and slam them down onto the beer, plastic, glitter and vomit-stained floorboards.

Their skull makes a sickening crunch, one you hear above the awful club hit, the reverbing beat and your screaming mind.

One thing you can kindly say about Zaunites— they are as persistent as cockroaches.

They heave, pushing themselves back up inelegantly, their fingers gripping your shoulders hard enough the bruise. Cradled against them like a lover, you slam them back down. Once. Twice. The third time they choke. You wedge your knee into their stomach, and they wheeze, a rattling sound from low in their stomach as they inhale Grey.

Underneath you, they heave. For a brief second, panting, you pause, watching the blood on your face dribble over theirs, smear their makeup further.

A knife slots into your back.

The moment is slow, at first. You feel it clink against bone, your feel your flesh pushing against it. You breathe once, and the pain flares bright and bold, a hot flash of white and then you are screaming—

Their hands find your mask and tiredly, eyes red, blurred and unseeing, they pull. They pull and you heave, the choking air spilling into your lungs, slathering itself over your airways.

The lights flash above you. Your blood drips through your uniform, staining their oily fluoro mesh shirt.

The woman behind you, knife still lodged into your stomach, kicks you off them harshly. You hit the floor with a crack. She weakly lunges for them, pulling them away, and then she is on you. You both inhale Grey. You both inhale sickness. Her movement, rough against you, presses the knife further into you.

Her hands are on your throat.

You are going to die on this floor.

Did Caitlyn send you here as you continued your hunt of flashes of blue, pink and a memory of a revolution knowing you would die here? You were always going to be a piece of a game larger than the whole of you— but the sting reverberates through you like the beat of the godawful club music.

When you were fifteen, thinking you owned the world, thinking nobody could hurt you because you could hurt them harder, did the world think, you are digging your own grave?

You can’t breathe.

When you were thirteen, did the Enforcer in her neat uniform hand you a pamphlet thinking, this is my rose on your grave, this is my lit candle?

You can’t breathe.

When you were ten years old, brawling on the golden streets of Piltover, did your opponent know you would die like this? Bloody and dirtied, dressed in your finest as you knocked out his teeth, did he slump down, thinking, good fucking riddance?

Good fucking riddance. Good fucking riddance— your anger is blinding. You will not die like this. You scream. You scream but nothing comes out against the weight of her hands, the Grey, the air sucked out of your lungs.

(You are alone, with her. The grief is heavy in you, almost as heavy as the fluttering of  the oxygen deprived heart in your chest. Are you supposed to be alone? Was there ever somebody else…)

You try to spit on the woman, but all your saliva does is dribble down your face.

A memory, on the edges of your mind. Brown eyes— a streak of orange hair— frills, scales… you grasp for the revelation, but it never comes, or maybe the darkness swallows it before it can. There is something you are forgetting about. There is something— someone forgetting about you… what were you sad about?

The darkness swallows your rambling, and for a brief moment, you cannot feel her hands around your neck.

You cannot feel anything at all.

A shield.

—gleaming against the fog as it pushes your attacker’s neck down into the floorboards with a crack. Screaming— the second person’s, you think, as they stumble backwards.

Loris. It’s Loris. Loris, staring at her splayed-out body. Maddie— Maddie above you, the spinning spotlights hitting her like an angel as she hauls you up. The hand that feeds and the hand that strikes resemble one another. You flinch as she speaks, her words blurring in your ears. You can barely hear. Your mind is so heavy— the weight of it hauling you down.

Somebody else. You are somewhere else. Blue— blue eyes. Thin lips, twisted downwards, ears pressed to the sides of his head. That upsets you, though you do not remember why. He props you on your side, your lungs heaving, the hole in your back— the gaping wound weeping.

“You left me.” You slur, and then you throw up over his clean, polished Enforcer boots.

࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

You remember now.

A simple club raid. A lousy place situated somewhere close enough to the surface that it had some credit, or at least enough credit that your little target felt the need to stop by. Or maybe Jinx didn’t. Maybe this was just another dead end, and you were barking and snapping at shadows like you had been the past couple of weeks, no closer to capturing her.

That dullard poster— her blown open eyes, blue braids flowing behind her. You saw it when you closed your eyes. How much longer, you wondered, storming in the club, gun clutched in your hands. How much longer until this blows the fuck up in our faces?

It was simple. It was supposed to be simple.

You had a plan— Vi take the front along with Loris, Commander Kiramman trail behind with her rifle, and you Maddie and Steb fill in the gaps left. Stick together. In and out.

Until they left you.

Steb was beside you. Maddie was gone, that was fine, it was fine, you trusted her intellect and pure dog-like devotion to the cause to not impale herself open the nearest bar tap. You watched as your teal-haired friend slammed his baton down, the following crack.

How could such a cruel action be so undeniably gentle in nature? His face was serious, stern. The swing was even, calm, aiming to incapacitate rather than kill. He was no vicious butcher, nothing like the likes of you. How was it that he made every action he took look so… heroic, like the posters they shoved into your hands, like the propaganda you hastily swallowed.

He allows himself to see them as humans and treat them as such, even in his mercilessness. You thought to yourself, very quietly. You could not do that. You could not acknowledge what they are— you cannot. Even thinking of it…

The moment your enemy is more than your enemy is the moment your guilt wraps its arms around you, peels back your skin to reveal your flesh.

Maybe this was your tragic mistake. Seeking to rationalize for a moment and not villainize.

That is why you allowed yourself, foolishly, to be separated, to not shoot first when the Zaunite hurled themself at you. You called out to Steb, but he was already gone, and you shoved them off you and then you were alone, stumbling around in the grey— the gun clutched in your hand suddenly feeling like a children’s toy. Screaming, flashing lights, music— your downfall was that through it all you could selfishly think about was that swing, that gentle movement as he swung down…

You don’t remember how it happened.

Just that it hurt.

࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

You wake with a pounding head and a franticly beating heart.

Take stock of your surroundings. You are in a room. A single, double bed, occupies most of the space, on which you are situated on. There are two bedside tables. There is a counter. The walls are furnished with what looks like cheaply printed artworks, paint slathered over cracks and crumpling bricks, implying this is a cheap motel of sorts. An open window next to the window lets a faint breeze fan your face, cooling the sweat sticking to your limbs and the fever burning low in your chest.

Most worrying of all, your enforcer uniform has been discarded of, leaving you in your slacks and a thin undershirt.

Somebody is writing, a pen scratching against paper in the background. You try to move your head to glance at them, but your temple feels like a brick is being taken to it.

Access damage. Experimentally, you stretch out a finger. Most of your body is simply cramped, some bruised. The movement ends when you crane your neck, and the bruises flare, causing you to shift and in turn hit your back. You try to shriek, but all that comes out is a moan. A pathetic, mewling sound.

The writing stops.

Footsteps, light and even against what sounds like wooden floorboards.

You hate that you recognise them as his.

Steb peers down at you, his frills flaring out for a brief moment before squishing flat against his cheekbones. He’s not in uniform, rather a form fitting long sleeved white shirt, and long dark pants. It's alarming, and although you've witnessed him take a similar form this entire week, you don't think you'll ever get used to the lack of uniform.

Form and take a course of action. “Where the fuck am I?” You scrap the words off the sore surface of your throat. Lord, it feels like somebody has taken a cheese grater to your gullet.

He reaches out a questioning hand towards you, and after a brief pause in which you say nothing, he moves to gently prop you against the bedframe. Out the window, the reaches of upper Zaun stretch out to meet your gaze.

Still in Zaun. Still hunting.

You try to peer closer, take further stock, but dizzily, your head lolls forward with a rush of pain.

Lightly, he puts a hand on your shoulder, and you snap back to attention. There’s a sheet of paper clutched in his other hand, one which he carefully pushes into your hands. Struggling to read with your bleary, red-stained eyes, you squint.

INCIDENT REPORT. The finely printed title reads. The space underneath is dotted with questions,  all of which are neatly filled in, even space between each carefully stencilled letter. Reporting officer: Steb’s full name. Rank: Junior officer, for him. Then, your rank. Issued—

Two days. You were out of commission for two days. You can’t remember the last time you even slept a full eight hours— and here you were, sleeping for two whole days.

Hurriedly, you skim read the rest of the form.

Mild bruising to ribs, bruising to back, severe stab wound in back (no spinal injuries), injury to throat, damage to eyes and throat caused by the grey. 

Compensation requested—

“Why are you showing me this?” It sounds harsher then intended, bitterness settling low in your gut. Perhaps it’s the intimacy, how gross and sweaty you are in your underclothes, or perhaps it’s how his hand is still on your shoulder that makes you snap.

You should brush it away, push him off of you. Pretend this never happened. You don’t.

He looks away, very briefly, and then turning the paper on its front, he places it upon the bedside table. Digging his fingers into his pocket, his pen slots in his hands once more. You listen as he quietly scribbles.

He places the paper before you, tapping the pen on the words he wants you to read.

I’M SORRY.

Sorry for what? You almost say, but it feels like a confession. How little you are accustomed to being apologised to, of all things. The meat does not apologize to the butcher.

You shake your head, ignoring how the movement makes you dizzy and how he flinches, pre-emptively moving to steady you. “Just…" You splay out a hand, waving him away. "...help me understand.”

He swallows, a small movement as he sits down on the bed beside you. His hands neatly fold themselves in his lap. You notice, somewhat dizzily, how his usually neatly slicked back hair is loose today, falling over his scalp in such a way as you can still see the comb lines. Something has been worrying him.

“Where is Kiramman? Or Maddie? Or anybody?” There’s a lapse in his polite posture. His head lolls down, his eyes sweeping the floor, his lips pursing and then he’s back, looking at you. It’s enough to know there’s some tension behind the question.

With a careful hand, he points towards the city.

“They just left?”

He shakes his head, running a hand up to prod his hair into submission as he does.

“Well. Clearly, they did.”

He sighs, probably realizing the need to verbally communicate is growing, and then fixes you with a look that would make any lesser Enforcer squirm.

Don't be difficult.

But you are no lesser Enforcer. You are hand-picked, trained, and a member of Kiramman's strike team.

(Loris's entry was questionable but you ignore that in favour of hyping yourself up.)

Perhaps that was the wrong train of thought to go down, because you stumble. Instead of coolly meeting his gaze, you land on a childish glare, and you've lost before the wrinkles that line his mouth make an appearance.

(Those goddamned wrinkles...)

You lean back, trying to cross your arms. Instead, you hit your back against the wooden headrest of the bed, sucking air between your teeth.

Knowing your position and purposely being difficult, you ask, words stained with pain, “Who took off my clothes?”

He reaches over, barely breaking eye contact with you for a second, to grasp the paper, scribbling down  the words hastily. YOU HAD A FEVER AND ACCESS WAS NEEDED TO YOUR BACK.

A dull sense of joy grapples with you at the faint stress of his words, the smudged full stop. "That doesn't answer my question. Stop dodging it. Who?" you ask, knowing very well who did.

He gestures at himself.

Victory doesn't cradle you in its arm faster than visions of him unclothing you. Those linger. Those sink low in your gut and do not leave you.

“...When will they be back?” You choke out. He mimes a sun setting.

Shit. God, being alone with him is killing you.

Defeated, finally, you slump down.

"God fucking dammit." You mutter. Usually, you would receive a somewhat lecturing look from this, but he ignores you in favour of skim reading the paper and walking back to his prior place, where medical equipment is splayed out on the counter.

You've just dozed off when he returns, sitting back down, a cup of water and a small white pill in hand. "I'm not a child." You say frowning, but you take the glass from him anyways (do your fingers brush? no. see? dealing with this maturely) and you swallow the pill with a quick gulp.

Why are you still mad? A small part of you whispers. He apologized. Perhaps you're mad just for the sake of it. He understands that, you think. (you hope)

You just need to stop thinking about it. (Alone. Their hands settle over your goggles. You deserve this, you think, very distantly.)

You just need to wait for the medicine to settle in your stomach. Sinking, lower and lower in an ocean of it's own. Ocean? Blue. His eyes are blue. Baby blue—

You just need to stop thinking about him. Him? God, what are you to him? You will always be the butcher. You will always be the blood dribbling down their lower lip. You will always be a pawn. Hero, propaganda posters... he holds the baton and brings it down like the sword of a knight.

You just need to breathe.

Steb is over you before you can think. He's thinking about your bruised ribs, isn't he? When you gape and heave. The damage it might have caused. Is this your ribs, heaving? Puncturing a lung, rupturing a nerve? Are you dying? “I— I can’t—"

You can't breathe. You can feel their hands tightening around your throat. You can feel their blood dribbling down your cheek. You want to reach up to wipe it up, but do not, too scared of hurting yourself in the process.

Steb reaches over, and gently dabs at it with a tissue. You flinch as his fingers near your cheek, anticipating a blow, but none comes. He wipes the substance away gently. His skin, soft, embroidered with little sequined scales, brushes your cheek.

He pulls away. It's just snot. Saliva. Tears.

Are you crying?

Shame boils in your stomach. You. You are crying?

“I— I need a shower—” you need to snap out of it. You try to push yourself off the bed, but stumble. He’s already there, one arm wrapping around your back to support you. You do not look at him. You cannot bare to. You already know his pity will not cleanse you.

He leads you to the bathroom, the tiles cool against your bare feet. He settles you against the grimy counter, before taking a step back. Hovering. Waiting. For what? An explanation?

You feel like a voyeur watching him, finally, even as he meets your gaze. You will always be watching him across your post, the frills on his eyes flaring, his big, doleful blue eyes. You will always be watching the ark of his arms  as he swings down, the gleam of the baton.

 "Do you need to wash me too, now? Just fuck off." You rasp.

He leaves, and you let him.

You lock the door behind him.

࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Later, you hear voices— Maddie, Loris, Caitlyn, Vi.

You do not shower. Instead, you sit on the shower tiles and try to steady your rasping breathing. Each inhale hurts, bruised flesh and achy ribs snapping and scraping, and all you can feel is that blood, dripping down your face.

Loris visits you. He brings the gift of a flask, sitting beside you. He does not ask why you  haven't showered, or why you find yourself on the tiled floor. You hate the kindness in his eyes. You hate the fact you know he will not leave.

The alcohol burns your ruined throat, at first. Then, you feel nothing at all.

Your shame cannot purify you. You already know that. But marinating in it allows, at least, you to bend it into something malleable. Something useable.

You ask him why they left you, passed out in a motel. “There was some… contention on it.” His mouth moves oddly around the words, almost like it tries to swallow them. You get the feeling he is repeating something somebody else said. You frown, and he pats your shoulder, gently. “Your guy wanted to stay with you, and we needed a break anyways. Caitlyn had a new lead. Disagreements.”

You try not to think about, 'your guy,'

Eventually, you push him out, listening as his voice joins those in the adjoining room. You hear him, Vi, and Caitlyn's footsteps as they leave, not some time later.

Take stock of your surroundings. You are in a shower. The tap is not on. The tiles are cool against your flesh. You are wearing a loose undershirt and undergarments. There is nobody in the room with you, but you can hear somebody outside speaking loosely. Maddie.

Access damage.  There is bruising to your ribs and throat. You feel dizzy. You feel childish. You are drunk. Your are in love with somebody who is too good for you. You are always alone. You are beginning to doubt it is external forces leading you to always being alone.

You think you might be wrong. You think you might be wrong about a lot of things.

Form and take a course of action.

You probably need to finally take a shower.

Quickly, you discard of your garments, throwing them out to litter the counter. The relatively easy part done, you claw and grip the smooth tiled walls around you as you stumble to your feet. Your head spins, and you taste blood, harsh and wet on your tongue as you clumsily grapple for the handle, jerking it sideways. Freezing water cascades down to sear your sensitive skin.

You shriek, and hastily, you spin the handle the other way. A somewhat habitable temperature sprinkles from the nozzle, and finally, you stand, swaying under it.

Why did you do this again? Your head pounds, dizziness settling over each crinkle and curve of  your brain and refusing to give itself  a home elsewhere. The alcohol helps it.

 Maybe you should sit down again. You don't. Instead, you lean against the wall, feeling each small start of pain as you breathe in and out. In and out, in... out...

Three, rapid consecutive knocks erupt from the doors place. Your fellow enforcer. Come to check on you after you shrieked like a cat in heat, perhaps.

There is a small pause as they wait for a response, one that drags on, before the door slowly creaks open, slow enough that you could call out if you so wish.

You don't.

He carefully pushes a long, slender teal arm through the gap, his hand pushing outwards to let you know it's him.

You already know, though. You recognised the knocks. How pathetic is that?

"Come in." You croak. He obliges, pulling his hand back, opening the door and carefully, like you are a spooked animal, stepping forward. The burst of teal is garish against the off-white tiles.

He’s not looking at you. It’s polite. You’re unclothed, after all. But you find yourself rather wishing he would as his eyes meet the empty bottle on the counter. A reminder of your exploits with Loris.

His expression changes, subtly. You’re too fucked up to make it out.

You’re looking at him, trying to carve the emotions you know are there out of the lines in his face, when you’re suddenly falling. Your knees hit the tiles with a crack, and you suck in air through your teeth, groaning.

He’s already on you before you have time to process the rapidly blooming bruises from your fall, swinging the shower door open. There’s a lapse, a pause, as he struggles to navigate helping you while not manhandling your drunken naked body, before he’s tilting your head up, glancing down at you, the tiles.

“I’m fineee.” You wave him off, batting his hand away. “All good. All good.”

You swear the look he fixes you with is worse than the pounding of your head.

“Oh, come on. All high and mighty, now?” You grimace. He sighs, still crouched before you. Faint stray droplets splatter across the fins lining his cheeks, and they flicker, shimmering under the cheap motel lights. In your woozy state, you cannot but stare in wonder.

He shifts.

“Don’t leave.” You quickly push out, perhaps sterner than intended. “I’m injured. I might die.” He swallows. You continue. “I— I’m sorry I yelled at you, earlier. I didn’t mean it.”

Carefully, he mimes calming you down, waving his hands out. Then, he shifts so his position is more comfortable looking, more permanent looking.

You almost collapse in relief.

Social etiquette demands you avert your gaze, pretend like you aren’t leaning over to watch him, his little micro expressions, his baby-blue eyes blinking, his second set of eyelids… whoever decided that shit was a rule probably never met him.

“Wash my hair?” You murmur. Is that odd? Are you allowed to ask that?

Conflict dances behind his eyes. You brace for a gentle rejection, and surprise yourself when he, forgoing removing his clothes, climbs in to sit beside you. The water continues to cascade down, though he doesn’t seem to mind.

The shampoo bottles, little cheap things, sit neatly on the floor beside you. He leans over, taking one in his hands and slathering it over his fingers. You lean against him, feeling him stiffen. His muscles lose their tension when you begin the speak, your words slurring into one another.

“God. Calm yourself, fish man. I’m not gonna to tear your face off. I’ve thought about it, though. Don’t get too comfortable.”

You bark a laugh, turning your head towards him. Your faces are close enough that you feel his breathing, warm against your wet skin, before he, gently, mind you, grips your head in his hands and turns you forward.

Fair enough.

Coconut, something rich and creamy, and the faintest hit of orange, drips through your scalp, cool, but not uncomfortably cool, against your skin. It’s nice. His fingers are careful, as always, and you can’t help your mind wondering towards them tugging.

Trying to push the thoughts away from your traitorous mind, you start to stumble over your words. “I think I’m going insane. Really. Jinx’s tricks. Kiramman on my ass. Fucking politics. A curse to live in interesting times, huh?”

God, you are a chatty drunk.

“They’re all worried about civil war, infighting, and shit. I… This isn’t what I signed up for.” Your voice is quieter, now. Too quiet, for your liking. “This… the threat was… it was never…”

You hope he cannot hear you. You know he can.

"Do you think we're doing the wrong thing? We're hunting them like dogs." You say, finally. He hums, his fingers gently massaging the shampoo into your hair before letting you go. You find yourself missing the contact.

Carefully, the lines thick and smooth against the precipitation, he stencils his words against the glass shower frame. YOUNG. STILL TIME.

“I’m young? You’re just like— like thirty? Late twenties? I think? You’re not old.” You drunkenly slur. Is that what he thinks of you? An overeager, ambitious youth? Is that why he cares? Is that why he’s washing your hair?

He smiles, you think, making a small noise. It’s such an odd sight you turn, and almost accidently push yourselves together with your drunken reflexes. He’s tall enough that you don’t smash faces, but your forehead grazes his lips, the warmth of him seeping into you.

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. Flickers of a smile still dance in his eyes. “Forward. Right, right. Right.”

You turn forwards.

A long pause.

“…does it get easier? I just… I don’t think I’m doing the right thing. The future is so murky, like this fucking grey, and I— I don’t know how much more of it I want to inhale trying to see.”

He doesn’t reply. You’re about to start talking again, maybe turn around again, when you feel it.

He hesitantly, very gently, presses his forehead to your shoulder blade. You feel his skin. You feel his breath, low and hot on your back.

He angles his head up, until his mouth gently pushes against the crook of your skin.

You think you hear him kiss the curve.

“Oh.” You say, very simply and very stupidly.

A moment passes, one you should probably fill. You do not. His warmth leaves you, and then he’s back to washing your hair, massaging the shampoo out of your hair like he didn’t just shatter and then rebuild your heart in your chest.

You take initiative. Your professors back at school always said it was your best trait, after all. You turn, and cradling his skull in your hands, you shift. The soft stubble growing out of the shaved sides he hasn’t been able to maintain brushes against your palms.

“Everybody leaves me. You won’t, right? Leave me?” He nods, and you see something else dip into his expression. Perhaps the realization of your circumstances, how vulnerable you are, drunk, naked and depressed. He's always been such the gentlemen. You hate it.

He gently pries your hands off of him. Fear spikes through you. He cannot leave. He cannot leave, not yet. You grapple for the conditioner bottle. "Hey, come on. You're not done yet, are you?"

He does not leave. What he does is so, so much worse.

He takes the bottle from you and continues. His movement is gentle. His movement is soft. You’ve watched him beat somebody within an inch of their life. You’ve watched him handle a rifle with even-precision. You’ve watched him, stoic and calm under pressure that would have you crawling into your skin.

And yet his hands are still tender.

You don’t know how long you sit there, his fingers threading through your hair, and then you’re up, shivering. A warm towel is promptly wrapped around you. Everything blurs, spins. You don’t think you’ve ever been so tired in your life.

"Goodnight." He whispers to you, his fingers lingering on your shoulder. When did you get here? Pillows, cradling you, the hard motel mattress beneath you…

His hands are gentle, and you are so very wanting, but he still leaves, and you still let him.

࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

You wake remembering every moment of the night before you and hating it.

The open windows breeze carries the cities air, thick with smog, cigarettes, and chatter, into the room. Sleepily, you watch the sunlight flicker across the bedsheets, before you heave yourself up, taking stock of your area.

Maddie is gently snoring beside you, her red hair splayed out around her, uniform discarded. Loris is on the floor, obviously having been kicked out during the night. (You don’t want to think about why your glorious leader and her adoring, yet scary dog might object to company. Grossssssss.)

And Steb. Steb is across from you, wrangling with his clothes. The same shirt from last night, the white, long-sleeved one, is draped across the window to dry, along with his pants. Always the early bird.

You meet his eyes.

He nods once, very gently, before pointing beside you to the bedside table. A glass of water. Pills for your headache.

You take them gratefully and yearn.

࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

You will not be letting them leave. Not again. Not Steb, not Maddie, not Loris, not even Vi and Caitlynn. Not now when you know how far you can fall; how hard you can scrape rock-bottom.

You will not be alone again.

࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Notes:

oh… haha, act 3 happened and i let’s just say… you will be letting them leave ao9jioehfihrfioerhfierfhrfi Suggest any ideas you may have!!! Part two of chatty reader coming next. No more angst!!! AND MORE KISSING (or will I write another 3000 words of yearning… this is my curse)

@skyetheseagull, who asked to be tagged.

thank you all for the kind words! I read and cherish them all

[artinvain]

in the midsts of hellfire (pt 1) (wc: 3.2k)

pit fighter!vi x reader & sevika x reader

cw: angst and toxic relationship (with vi). smut

the days had blended into a blur for Vi. she knew pain and it was the only thing that kept her sane. every time she sees a flash of blue hair in the crowd she allows her opponent a chance to get her mouth bloody. when she heard the soft lilt of cait’s voice the punch to her gut doesn’t feel like much but it knocks her on her ass and she loses the fight. except vi doesn’t hear the bell toll signaling the end of her match. 

her ears are ringing with the sound of the bomb powder had set off - to kill her. powder, her pow hated her - what had she done? vi doesn’t realise she’s screaming maniacally, tears staining her cheeks as she picks a fight with her opponent. and because it’s the pits - she can and since her opponent is willing - the game continues.

it’s gorey, her back tooth is knocked loose. she pops some blood vessels in her opponent's eye. her hair is matted with blood to her forehead and when she stumbles into your apartment she finally collapses into your waiting arms. 

in her new reality vi had allowed herself only two pleasures - sex and the comfort of a home. she hadn’t bargained for her feelings to grow so exponentially, though she never told you about her past, how it haunted her. and looking up at you as you worry over her, she realised that there could be a time where she tells you that she loves you and truly means it.

you are the prettiest girl in the undercity without a doubt, a flower anyone would love to pick and for some reason you had settled for vi. she still questions you - whether or not you were really on her side. sometimes she waits in the evenings with baited breath for enforcers to barge your door down and take her away. almost every night she imagines it's caitlyn that is at your door.

though looking over at you now, your eyes flitting around under your eyelids, your skin dewy with the heat of vi’s body so close to yours, god she regrets ever dragging you into her shit, you didn’t deserve to be second place to anyone. vi could appreciate how great you were, but she promised herself she would never let her love break anyone else. and yet, here she is, about to do it again.

“baby,” she whispers, her calloused hands brushing your cheek and easing you awake with kisses to your neck and jaw. “I need you, please wake up” she breaths into your ear, her lips tasting yours before you can interject and still you do - 

“are you sure?” your voice laced with sleep and still under that - lust. she wondered how it is that you managed to care so deeply for her when she was so withholding. 

“I’m patient,” you had told her when vi said she wasn’t ready for a relationship. you waited for months for her, let her cry in your arms. you let her tell you about her exploits - she was trying to make you jealous and when she had enough - vi came home to you and let you have her.

“I’m sure,” she breathes, clambering between your legs as you open them for her. “I love you,” she chokes out between kisses to your throat and it’s all you need to let go. vi rarely said it and to you, that meant when she did say it - she really meant it - really needed you. so you let her have you.

In the morning you wake up to a note pinned down by a small bag of coins. 

“gone back to pits, buy something nice,” 

you rolled your eyes - even on a saturday, vi remains relentless.

you take yourself to the last drop after your shift and you’re glad it’s still empty considering it was a saturday afternoon. it always was when you and sevika planned to meet. you didn’t know sevika had bought out half the bar so that it was emptier for you. she knew you hated crowds and she didn’t want half of zaun oogling at you - as if you didn’t get that enough on a daily basis. no one would know she did it because she was jealous, she didn’t want a full bar dividing your attention between her and the rest of the world. nor did she want her men to see how her eyes softened around you.

The two of you were unlikely friends, that is because sevika isn’t really friends with anyone but you. sevika adored you, the only girl who actually made her laugh, you were the only girl who looked at her like you wanted to hear what she had to say - not because you were afraid or being paid. sevika’s soft spot for you deepend every time she saw you. 

when you plop down beside her in the booth, she lets you see a small smile. her stretched lips showing off the tiny gap between her teeth you often told her made her so pretty. no one ever called sevika pretty and it made her blush every single time. 

“you smell nice,” she whispers, handing you a joint and lighting it for you as you bring it to your lips. “I smell like kitchen grease, which is incredible because i don’t even work in the kitchen,” you laugh and sevika exhales gently through her nose. “still smell like flowers,” she mutters and before you can reply - “how’s vi,” sevika spits her name like it’s hot ash in her mouth.

you were well aware of sevika’s dislike of your girlfriend though she never explained it to you and vi never liked to talk about sevika. Of course she had wanted you to stay away from “the scariest lady in zaun” but if she didn’t listen to your warnings about getting her face beaten in  every day. you decided you didn’t need her approval on who to trust.

sevika masked her dislike for vi with the fact that you always seemed so sad because of her. not because she was head over heels in love with you. of course, vi had no idea you were so close with sevika and sevika used that to her advantage. she could be a sounding board for all your relationship issues and all it did was give sevika material on how to be a better girlfriend to you. because there was no way sevika was letting this shit go on any longer.

“she’s fine - she’s just -”

“absent? was she mean when she got back from the pits again this time?” sevika grunts and passes you the joint as you scoff at her. Even though she didn’t treat you right your eyes told her how much you cared about her. she wondered if you would look at her differently after she’s done with vi.

“no vika, that doesn’t happen that often-”

“but it happens” sevika interrupts you and doesn’t back down when you give her a look. “I hate what she does to you,” she continues. 

“I don’t know why she treats you the way she does, but you don’t deserve it bunny,” sevika smiles when you stop scowling. you loved it when she called you that, curled her arm around your shoulder like she is. It made you feel safe and allowed you to be fragile as you were. and every time you sink into her chest, it takes all your strength not to let those feelings bubble over. the one’s you’d been denying since the moment you met sevika. you swallow down your guilt at the way your heart flutters when sevika gently caresses your cheek.

sevika knew it would break your heart, to hear the enforcers banging on your door - see the way that vi looks at caitlyn when they finally find each other again. at first sevika wanted to turn vi over to regular enforcers and see her shut in a cell again - serves her right for getting out and trying to turn zaun upside down.

it pissed sevika off - vi on her high horse as if she had never done a bad thing to survive. she waltzed in and halted sevika’s plans to turn zaun around with her anger and childish violence. If the girl had taken even a moment to talk to sevika then she would have known that the brutish woman had a plan to save her home after all. 

“I know you don’t like her, but thank you for always hearing me out,” you say, taking sevika’s hand and now she’s no longer thinking about vi. only how supple your hand in hers is, the look of your soft lips as they shape her name. 

“I’d do anything for you bunny,” sevika noses your forehead and gingerly presses a kiss there. your breath hitches, your face rising to look up at sevika as she looks down at you. sevika can heart her heart pumping in her ears, her face heating with need and your proximity. 

“I love you,” sevika says softly, she’d never said it before, to any other woman and she doesn’t know how or why she lets it slip. but when your lips stretch into a grin, she takes a deep breath. 

“I love you too sevika,” you bury your face in her neck and pull her arms over you in a hug. a poo attempt at masking the sincerity sevika already saw in your eyes and heard in your voice. you both knew what it meant, and that something should change or you should jump apart like teenagers being caught kissing but you don’t.

It feels more natural than it ever has, the way sevika’s hand comes to rub up and down your back, the sky kiss you lay to her cheek. her hand playing with yours in her lap.

“I should get going,” you pull back with an air of sadness and sevika packs the left over joint in a bankie for you. 

“I’ll see you friday,” she replies and sits back in the booth to watch you go.

you’re shocked to find vi sitting on your couch when you get home. she doesn’t look up when you greet her. Instead she trains her eyes on the opposite wall, her pocket knife clicking in her hand as she skillfully plays with it. you sit on the couch beside her and gently lay a hand on her thigh, she tenses.

“you were with sevika,” she says finally, and you take a deep, nervous breath. had anyone seen you two together? had they seen how close you were?

“someone told me you were at the last drop today,” you exhale relieved that that’s all she has to say. you nod your head and try to say what you had practiced for this scenario, but vi doesn’t let you get a word in before she’s throwing your vase across the room with a yell.

“do you have any idea how stupid that makes me look? she is for everything im fighting against,” she yells and you furrow your brows,

“you don’t know her like i do, she’s trying to fix things.” your voice is shaky but the statement is bold. you know sevika, and she hadn’t told you everything but you know enough to confidently say sevika wasn’t ever just silco’s lackey. she was powerful and smart and making changes in zaun – starting with a centre for shimmer recovery.

“excuse me?” vi asks, anger making her breath shudder. 

“I’m just saying you have no idea what’s going on in zaun anymore, your head is still in the ring vi, it always is,” you say.

and you’re right because vi can hear the toll of the bell in her head, the fight had started and she was feeling jealous and cruel. 

“you don’t know how stupid you’re going to look when she drops you for someone who will actually open their legs for her. or maybe you’re easier than i thought,” she spits without looking at you but she can hear your jaw drop with a gasp.

she’s half expecting you to fight back. tell her she was being an asshole - that she was still in the pits. the usual and instead she’s filled with dread at you silence. 

“I think you need a few days alone,” you say as you stand and go to put your shoes back on. vi jumps up to follow you to the door,

“are you really just going to leave me? like everyone else?”

you pause and turn to look at her. 

“I don’t think you want me here,” you say, gently clasping your hands over vi’s and she drops to her knees, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. her arms wrap around your legs and she starts to cry into her belly.

“please don’t leave me,” she whimpers, resting her cheek against you. Your hands come to mindlessly play with her hair. 

what she really wanted to say was “please don’t leave me cait,” 

but you weren’t cait. you stayed. you were a placeholder that vi has grown dangerously attached to and she wondered now about finally sending that message to cait - whether or not she should do it. because maybe this is better, maybe this is what she deserves and her only reprieve is you - her angel.

“I’m sorry, i’m so sory i fucked up,” vi screws her eyes shut and holds you tightly her voice more honest than it ever has been.”i promise you things will be different, please just - please don’t go,” you try to pull vi’s arms off of you but she tightens her grip and you’re not in any position to challenge her strength.

“vi, you’re hurting me,” you grunt, but her arms stay locked. pain is the only way vi had ever known love. so surely, surely vi believed there was a part of her that could love you, get over cait and focus on you, on her new life.

a resounding knock echos in your apartment and the door handle rattles with effort to open in it. 

“vi?” 

at first she thinks she’s imagining it. but then cait is screaming her name, banging on your door and vi gets up past you, shoving you behind her and opening the door.

you know with the look in her eyes that vi never intended to stay, or to love you like she promised. she was filled with real calm, relief that you had never seen before. Neither of the girls take notice of you when they embrace, even less so when they kiss and by the time vi realises what she’s done, you’re moving past her into the street.

“no, no wait,” she runs after you and cait locks your door to follow her. vi pulls you back by your arm before you can duck into the crowds moving in the streets. 

“It’s not what you think,” she sighs and she gives a look to caitlyn when she scoffs. 

“This is - she’s from my past and -”

“and you’re in love with her, that’s where your mind has been this whole time - not in the pits - with her.” you frown with the restraint of keeping your tears back. 

“I don’t ever want to see you again,” you swallow and wretch your hand from hers. caitlyn’s hand is on vi’s shoulder as she tries to pull her away from you.

“we have to go vi, now,” caitlyn looks around the streets wearily.

you nod your head, “go,” you say, 

“I’m coming back for you,” vi says, as she starts to back away with caitlyn. her words thinning with the distance between the two of you. “I promise,”

and then she’s gone.

***

when you get to sevika's home you stumble into her arms, tears never-ending as you blubber and she hates to see you in pain. but it worked. cait had taken the bait and vi was gone for good.

she held you in her arms until you could breathe, and instead of falling asleep like she assumes you will, you're turning your face upto her from her chest.

"vika," you breathe and sevika's heart flutters at the need in your voice - "make me forget,"

sevika handles you into her lap and presses a

kiss to your mouth with vigour. She moans at the taste of you when she finally licks into your mouth. Your hips grind down on hers and sevika whines, so embarrassingly close to cumming and she has to reach under your top to grope your tits. she tastes your groans as she rolls your nipples between her fingers and loves the weight of your tits in her hands. 

“never letting you go,” she groans into your neck as she turns you over in one swift movement, her muscles taking all of your weight and she appreciates you beneath her. Your soft hips and thick thighs pressed around her hips. She can’t help when she claws your clothes away from your body.

“m’sorry bunny, just need to see you - you’re so beautiful,” she moans, kissing down your body, “finally get to taste you,” her words of praise for your taste muffles as she buries her head in between your thighs and sucks your clit into her mouth.

you moan, all thought of vi clearing your mind as sevika sinks two fingers into you, curling them - “god you’re so fucking wet, and so needy for me,” she groans feeling you tighten on her fingers. “fuck fuck, m’gonna cum,” sevika whimpers and the sound alone from her - so vulnerable and soft beneath you, you’re cumming and so is she, feeling and tasting your pleasure.

she’s quick with the way she tears her own clothes off and secures her strap to herself. “I love you, and i will never let you go,” she whispers as she sinks into you. Her eyes trained on yours - lids lowered as you look up at her.

“I love you,” you gasp as she snaps her hips against your gspot, sevika smiles and pulls you in close so that your foreheads are pressed together. sev can feel your pussy pulling her in, the base of her strap rubbing and bumping up against her clit so deliciously.

“you’re mine,” sevika moans and you whimper in agreement, “yours, please cum with me” your words slurred as sevika speeds up her hips and holds your thigh up. “you’re so beautiful,” she gasps, looking down at you and when your back arches, you both cum with a groan, moaning and whining - bodies sweaty and intertwined. 

“I could die happy now,” sevika groans after taking the water she’d given you and taking a sip herself, 

“shut up…” you laugh and start to play with her hair, her head resting on your belly, she presses occasional kisses there. “how long have you-”

“since the day i met you,” she replies. 

***

In caitlyn’s hideout, vi can’t keep her head straight. her eyes trained on your little red tracking do at sevika’s home. 

“come to bed,” cait whispers, her hand gently squeezing vi’s shoulder. she swallows down her jealousy and tries to pull vi to bed. 

“In a minute,” she says quietly, waiting to see if you would move though you hadn’t in the last four hours.

“I thought you’d be excited to be home,” cait snaps against her better judgement and vi has to restrain herself, cait isn’t sued to the monster she is now and she didn’t think now would be the right time to introduce her. 

“you’re right,” she huffs and puts her phone down, vi steps away from the window and follows caitlyn to bed. 

vi thought it would be different. Whenever she imagined this moment, she was always happy and probably fucking and safe but all she felt now was empty, and a longing pull for something familiar. you had seen all the darkest parts of vi and still loved her, and she didn’t know now, why or how she ever imagined she could let you go.

sevika tags: @archangeldyke-all @sexysapphicshopowner @sevsbaby @iamaboringrattat @lavendersgirl @opropheticsoul @ariariarr @femme-historian

[lil13]

MAKEUP OR MAKEOUT? - j. champion

You're a new makeup artist, making your debut on Scream VI. Everything seemed to be going well until you were assigned Jack Champion, who always ran late and seemed to give you nothing but problems. You were stuck with the 6 foot something, curly-haired boy for the entirety of filming, spending all too much time together. Separately, you'd claimed each other as enemies, but as time goes on soft touches and fleeting glances become too much for the two of you.

•

June 2022, Scream VI, the start of your career as a makeup artist.

Honestly, you were shocked when you were offered the position. You were 17. It was crazy to think that a big name franchise would offer you, a minor, a position in makeup for their film.

The only downside was that you despised the actor you were put in charge of.

Jack Champion, the only other minor on the set.

The first day he showed up late, spouting out apologies. But every day since then he's been late and every day since then the apologies and excuses have gotten worse. And he couldn't sit still.

It's been a month and a half of this, now mid July. You all only about a month left. Couldn't Jack get his act together?

The door to the trailer swung open, "Late again, Champion." You mumbled, glancing down at your watch.

He scoffed, "I'm aware, thanks, Y/L/N."

You two solely referred to each other by your last names. It was fitting, your first names felt too personal for people who hated each other.

You'd heard Jack complaining to the others about how he wished he had a different makeup artist because his didn't talk to him. Which was a lie. You did talk to him, just clearly not as much as he wanted.

He was already wearing his costume for the day — jeans, a light blue polo, and a jacket with a plaid lining. You didn't want to admit he looked good in it. Especially when he slid the jacket off and it revealed how the polo perfectly defined his biceps.

Especially not that.

"How is your hair always curly but not curly at the same time?" You asked when he sat down, pulling out a spray bottle, mousse, and your diffuser.

His hair frustrated you. Jack had naturally curly hair, but you always had to work so long on it every day.

He shrugged, glancing up at you. "Dunno." You shielded his eyes when you sprayed the water.

But also so you didn't have to endure his chocolate brown eyes gazing into yours. They were dangerous.

"Well, figure it out." You mumbled again, brushing your fingers through his hair to disperse the water.

Then you sprayed the mousse in your hand, rubbing your hands together and then through his hair. You stood behind him, running the product through his hair and ignoring his gazes at your through the mirror. His hair was soft in your fingers and you had to bite back the thought of your hands being in his hair on different occasions.

That would never happen.

He was famous, you weren't. And you hated each other.

Sort of.

At first, the hatred was very real. Now, he more so just annoyed you. But he also intrigued you.

Damn, Jack Champion. Him and his perfect smile and captivating eyes.

"Stop staring at me." your thoughts left your mouth.

You immediately wished you could've taken it back, but turned on the diffuser to hopefully block out any response he gave.

But your wish for him to stop staring only made him stare more. You'd noticed him staring, so now he didn't have to hide it.

Finishing his hair only took a few more minutes. You dreaded the moment you turned off the diffuser, now he could talk and you'd hear him. But he stayed quiet.

He didn't need much makeup. The directors had asked for all actors to at least have on foundation, concealer, and powder. It would eliminate any blemishes or redness, making it to where they would film the same scene over many days and have their faces looks the same.

So, that's what you started.

Occasionally, as you were brushing on the products, your fingers would graze his skin. Or you'd lose your balance and your steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder chest. The touches were doing something to you, and, unbeknownst to you, they were also doing something to Jack.

You'd two had been stuck with each other for a month and a half. Everyday, you'd spend time together. You started every morning with Jack and would see him periodically throughout the day when you were needed for touch ups.

Occasionally, you'd have to run your fingers through his hair to fix the curls or brush more powder onto his face when he'd get sweaty or reapply the foundation whenever he'd inevitably wipe it off. The touches sometimes would end up being more intimate than either of you meant for them to be.

You were nearly done with his makeup when it came time for lip balm. Typically, you'd give it to Jack to apply since it was one applied with one's fingers, but today you did it yourself to speed up the process. You needed him to leave. Your mind was swirling.

His lips were separated as you ran your finger over them. You swore you heard him breathe in quickly when you started.

There was definitely no way you'd look at him now.

"You wanna know something, Y/N?" his voice quiet when you turned to wipe your fingers off from the lip balm.

"Mhmm."

"I stopped hating you a couple weeks ago."

You swallowed harshly. That's definitely not what you needed to hear.

"Me too." you whispered, scared to admit the truth.

You went to walk away, but were stopped when his hand caught your arm. Your eyes connected and a whimper slipped past your lips, betraying you, his chocolate brown eyes held an entirely different emotion than you'd ever seen before.

"Jack." his name came out more as a warning.

You two were so different.

Your lives would forever be one's that shouldn't intersect. You practically worked for him.

Jack decided to disregard your warning, his hand moving from your arm to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. With a sharp intake of breath, your lips connected.

And even though everything inside of you was warning you not to do this, to separate now and request a change of actors for the rest of filming to stay professional, you didn't want to. This, kissing Jack, felt so right.

Your knees went weak at the passion he put into the kiss. Jack noticed, his other hand guiding your hips so you'd sit on his lap. You were still in disbelief when you sat down, just barely on him, one hand on his chest and the other in his hair.

You didn't care that you'd have to touch up his makeup and fix his hair. You were practically making out with the actor you swore you hated.

A call came over the walkie talkie you had clipped to the waistband of your pants, letting all makeup and wardrobe know that the actors were needed on set. You were sure that that announcement was the only thing that caused your kiss to break. Both of you were breathless.

Your eyes locked with Jack's once more, both of you searching each other's for any hints of regret. But there was none.

You swallowed your nerves, "I, uh, need to touch up your hair and makeup." Jack fought back the smile on his lips at your nervousness.

Jack's hands on your hips stopped you from standing up. Your eyes finding his once more, this time widened in question.

"Sit here and do it, I want you close for as long as I can have you."

You obliged to his request. Leaning over to grab the makeup products you needed, his hands sliding you further on his lap so you wouldn't fall off. You could get used to this. Being with Jack, touching Jack, felt normal.

Your fingers fluffed up the back of his hair, the curls you'd played with while you kissed. And you touched up the makeup you'd smudged, reapplying the lip balm once more, the product you'd been applying when he'd decided to kiss you.

Then you stood up, sliding off of his legs. The boy stood up too, sliding his jacket back on and walking toward the door.

Only instead of leaving, he paused, swiftly walking back over to you and taking your face in his hands — pressing his lips against yours once more.

You silently cursed him as he left the trailer, but didn't fight your smile this time.

[3vergr3en]

My brain burns with the urge to express my head canon’s abt Actor!Jack Champion in a relationship w/ Actor!Reader 🤧💕

__________________

He’s obsessed with your laugh.

He will do everything in his will power to make you laugh in front of the camera even if it meant him enduring a scolding from the director or his manager for purposely messing you up.

He loves, like, loves, seeing you happy. So whenever you’re either laughing with him, or at him (bc of his lame dad jokes), it doesn’t matter as long as he hears those pretty sounds of laughter that he adores.

Whenever you guys are on the set of Scream VI, you guys act like a couple of kids when you guys are together.

The behind the scenes mainly consisted of you two constantly bickering immaturely, playing footsies when sitting in your assigned chairs, or randomly playing tag out of no where.

But there were times where there was peace from the mischievous duo. Only because you two were cuddling together, sound asleep in either of your trailers.

After shooting your guy’s scenes, you guys would most of the time hang out in your trailer.

He would always be laying on your lap with you sitting up.

And he LOVES when you play with his hair.

Either with you twirling your finger through each individual curl or running your hands through his brown locks, he just loves the sensation of you touching with his hair.

On the red carpet, he’s as eager to answer questions about you as he is to talk about his acting career or the character he portrays in the film that he’s in.

He never fails to mention on how incredible of a girlfriend and actress you are.

He fr could go on for hours talking about you.

And you, on the other hand, love watching those interviews of him when they’re posted shortly after the event.

As well as teasing him when you guys are together at home.

“The most gorgeous person besides my mother? It’s no other than my kind girlfriend, Y/n.” You’d quote him.

“Shut up!” Jack would complain and proceed to run over to you to cover your mouth before you could quote anymore.

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - VI - I'M TOO PROFOUND TO GO BACK AND FORTH, WITH NO AVERAGE DORK 📱

« previous part

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

VI - I'M TOO PROFOUND TO GO BACK AND FORTH WITH NO AVERAGE DORK 📱

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~2.2K

Warning: NSFW and steamy🌶️ elements 😉 .

Summary: This chapter explores Rio's POV. You and Rio grow closer in spite of your distance. You both explore your new feelings and ultimately prepare for the trip to Mexico.

Standing at the register Rio avoids the flirtatious looks from the cashier at the luxury retailer. She was pretty but he’d put his rakish ways on pause potentially indefinitely with what he had going on now. His housekeeper began packing his bags and there was no question that you needed a luggage set to match his. Usually he didn't care. You aren’t the first plus one he’s brought around the family but for the first time he feels differently about the situation. About you.

“Can I get you anything else?” the sales associate asks.

“Nah, that's all” he replies, giving the woman a look of impatience. His nerves were worn thin again. He hadn't been around you in two days and he hadn’t yet made James pay for getting physical with you. If he didnt care what you thought about him, James would already be missing. Only that would make things harder for the both of you. It would be a dumb fucking move on Rio’s part. A jealous lover was almost always the culprit. It’s why he’d been looking into Japan. It was her real name, funny enough. Party girl social climber into the pay for play lifestyle. Unfortunately, as far as Rio could tell there was no one else aside from James involved with her. She was really into him for whatever reason.

Rio would keep his hands clean for now using his network to kill any fun the pieces of shit we're having at your expense. The only thing they would be allowed to eat in the city would be at mass chain restaurants and in their homes. No dine in options would be made available to them. Rio had already made the calls and circulated photos of the two traitors. He didn't want you to have to stomach that. He takes the receipt and his bags out of the mall as he heads to his car putting the items in the trunk. He hoped the gifts wouldn't be seen as too much. Getting in his car he sighs deeply wishing he was heading inside of you to take the edge off. The thought of you in a predicament without him was wearing on him. How strong you were being about everything bothered him even more. He’d been betrayed by family too, and no matter how much he played it cool it always hurt. He never wants you to pretend not for him or anyone else. He doesn't want you to give consideration for a man that disregards you. James needed to be apologetic, screaming, in pain and wishing he never crossed you. Then, he needed to hold the regret forever.

Rio needed there to be blood. To cheat was one thing, to lie about it another, to move your wife away from your family scummy, to get rough with your wife after she finds out. James was in a rush to be acquainted with his casket. Rio wanted to see how the tough guy with muscles would react to being confronted by a real man. His thoughts go to you, he wanted Mexico to be a clean slate, a fresh start, a chance for you to be happy and not worry. Why should you have to keep secrets anyhow? It was a dangerous thing for him to have his nose wide open like it was. He’d learned that long ago. Women didn’t acclimate well to his lifestyle, the late nights, early mornings, temptation and sometimes lack of communication. It usually left them with a few screws loose. That's why he kept his boundaries clear, mostly for the benefit of the women he dealt with. Then where was the reality of Nick, his cousin and polar opposite. He loved the daylight, people, talking, colour and taking what isn't his. If it was clear there was something Rio wanted or enjoyed more than usual Nick would swoop in to steal it away. But this was the perfect opportunity, as the groom Nick wouldn't have any time to intervene with the demands of the wedding..

Sighing Rio shakes the thoughts of self sabotage from his head settling into the driver's seat and starting his truck. Putting the car into gear he pulls out the lot cutting on the radio to drown out his thoughts. Right now, business was the simplest part of his life. Looking at his phone he sees no new messages from you and opts to call you instead.

“Rio?” you pick up on the second ring.

“Mama” he responds, smiling at the vision of you smiling on the phone in his head.

“I was just about to call you, I’m shopping for a dress. You didn't tell me the wedding party colours and I don't want to make you look bad. What's the vibe and dress code” you ask and it's his turn to smile.

“Let me see what you have so far,” Rio asks, requesting a video call.

“Rio, I’m in the fitting room and my moms outside the door” you whisper as your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“So mama doesn't know you're a freak?” he teases, making you laugh. The sound settles him as he focuses on the road. Accepting the video call you put on headphones and step back from the phone now suctioned to the wall via a grippy phone case. Rio watches you materialise in a classic dress with a finger to your lips. You spin giving him a 360° view.

“You’re too sexy to be hiding it all the time” Rio comments and you try to swallow the smile and blush he gives you again. Rio chuckles proud of his effect on you. 

“How's it going sweetie?” your mom calls from the waiting area.

“This one was a no, I'll show you the others if I like them more.”

“Ok, love” your mom responds and you hear her footsteps go back to the sitting area.

“Sexy at someone else's wedding, Rio?” you whisper again.

“It’s for me and I’ll handle anyone who looks too long,” he shrugs, making you shake your head. He has no idea the wonders he’s done for your confidence after the blow that is being cheated on. You move away from the safe option and pick up a bright coloured dress that compliments your skin tone and that’s backless. You shimmy out of the first dress giving Rio a show and he watches like a starving  predator. You feel your body heat when you realise you’d previously removed your bra. Instinct has you cover yourself. But, the fact that it’s Rio watching strikes out your inhibition. He watches without protest of you covering yourself. He watches as you cast a look back at him over your shoulder, removing your arms from your chest and giving him a full view from the mirror in front of you. All the blood rushes straight between his legs as he takes in a deep breath of air happy he’s nearly home.

“You’re beautiful baby girl” he mutters in his usual sexy tone.

“The way you look at me I believe it” you smile putting on the dress. You zip it at the hip and fix the neckline. Looking yourself over in the mirror you check your angles before deciding you need to keep your hair up and off your neck for this style.

“You’d better fucking believe it mama” Rio mutters adjusting himself in his pants. Smiling, you go closer to the camera to kiss at him.

“I miss you Christopher” you confess and Rio’s eyes light in excitement at the use of his given name.

“Call your mom before we get started, I think that's the one” Rio says not wanting the call to descend into full phone sex.

“Yes daddy.” You wink feeling both playful and powerful at the same time.

“Keep playing with me,” Rio warns with a promising smile.

“Ma, I think this is the one” you call opening the door.

Grabbing her purse your mom walks over and from the look in her eyes you know Rio’s right. It’s the perfect dress. “Baby, this is it. It’s gorgeous” she smiles, spinning you around.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby, it's all on me. Colour looks great on your skin. I’m glad you're finally showing off those curves instead of hiding them for the sake of professionalism”  she says with an eye roll. Rio hears the contempt in her voice and smiles to himself.

“Thanks Momma” you smile heading back in.

“I'll be at the register” Mom declares as you head back into the fitting room.

“Can’t wait to take it off you, if you see something else you like, get it for the reception. I got it. I gotta go but you call me if you need anything ya hear?”

“Ok” you nod, unzipping the hip zipper.

“What happened to yes daddy?” He jokes and you laugh a little.

“Yes daddy” you concede.

“Good, take care Mama” he says, ending the call with a deep sigh as he looks at the tent in his jeans. Shaking his head he parks in his condo’s lot and has to use the shopping bags to cover his predicament before he can use the fresh material of you getting dressed for his consideration to take care of himself.

… 

You’ve never been on a vacation with a man other than James. Your first had been your honeymoon, everything since had been less climactic. Standing in the middle of the mall now you feel a familiar flutter in your heart. Rio’s appreciation put him in a league of his own. He was far more present than James who always seemed to be far away with his five to ten year plans. Always looking ahead and not at what was right in front of him, never settling into comfort or appreciation. You hadn't realised how exhausting changing yourself to fit into his standards had been. You’d turned into an accessory somewhere along the way, it's how you added value. Your commitment to his goals, willingness to partner with him and create comfort alongside him. It killed the spark, annihilated the spontaneity and extinguished desire. Yet, he couldn't even honour your commitment or how much sacrifice you’d made to keep him comfortable. You reach for a bright coloured bikini. You explore a few varieties and cuts in the change room before settling on one that accentuates your best features. You have a few that are a little risque and others that are more family friendly.

Your phone rings in your earpods for the fifth time this shopping  trip and you sigh knowing its James and answering the blocked number.

“Hello?”

“Where are you? You haven't been home in two nights.” he probes.

“I don't have to answer you anymore.” You respond, bored already.

He exhales. “We’re still married Y/N.”

“Not for long” you tell him, holding your new items and looking around for where to head next.

“Don’t threaten me with a divorce, you don’t work. You can’t afford to be single and you love me just like I love you. What you saw isn't what you think it was” he says doubling down on his newest lie. You smile to yourself happy for the clarity.

“I don't love you anymore” you tell him honestly. “Keep screwing the bitch, I don't care what you do. I just know it won't be me” your words surprise even you. There’s no need to spare him anymore.

“Y/N you’d better stop threatening me before I do what you're asking. It’ll kill you to see me with someone else. I know how much you love me” he says again.

“You knew it’d kill me and you still did it. I know your dick James and I recognized it on your explicit messages you sent her. You’re still lying, James. I’ll have someone come by and move my things out next week.”

“No, come home! We need to talk” he shouts

“Why? So you can put your hands on me again?” you ask.

“I didn't hit you” he specifies.

“You’re never gonna get the chance” you clarify.

“Baby, it's me we're talking about. I would never hit you. I just didn't want you to leave and for you to get all these crazy ideas about leaving when you're with me, where you belong.” he says.

“Don’t call me baby, I’m not yours. I’ve wasted too much time with your lying, cheating ass already. I won’t for a minute more. Stop calling me” you snap before hanging up completely done with the phone call. 

Reorienting yourself in the mall you look up to see a lingerie store. It’s time for a fresh start. You have a ball thinking of yourself and your tastes before considering Rio. You pick up a few things to spice up the trip. After checking out you find your mom and tell her about your conversation with James over a meal at the food court. She’s had it with James and encourages you to get a new number for peace of mind. You do as you're told before leaving the mall knowing it's only a matter of time before James employs more flying monkeys in his bid to get you back.

The list of people you message is short, your mother, Rio and a few of the girls at your yoga studio. You save Rio’s message until you get home. After a day of vacation prep you feel like a new woman and send him a spicy picture to notify him of your new number along with a message about your excitement for the upcoming trip. You know you should keep things cool but you can't wait to smell his cologne, be in his arms and loved on by him again.

Authour's note: Thanks for letting me take some time away. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and Rio being boyfriend material without the title. Let me know what your favourite part was. Also any suspicions 👀 . As always, like, comment and vote for more.

Next stop ✈️ MEXICO

» next part

TAGS:

@meadows5@wnbweasley@becauseimher@ariiaeltheedonn@woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin

[woso-dreamzzz]

End of the World VI

Ruesha Littlejohn x Child!Reader

Summary: Your accidents

At first, when Rue heard that you had started to get accidents, she blamed Katie.

It was happening at Katie's house. It was Katie's problem so it must have been Katie's fault.

She didn't think it would be a problem at her house but, as she sits with you on her chest in the middle of the night, she finds out she was wrong.

It wasn't a Katie problem and it wasn't just happening at Katie's house.

You'd just rather sleep in your wet bed than tell Rue and bother her in the night when she's meant to be sleeping.

Clearly, this bed-wetting is worse than Rue thought and she feels absolutely terrible about sweeping away Katie's concerns. She was so unbothered after deciding it was Katie's problem that she hadn't even considered it was happening at hers too.

"Katie," Rue says the next morning after you're clipped into Katie's car and the door is shut," What make is your baby monitor?"

Katie frowns. "Why?"

"Because I want to get one too, obviously."

Katie keeps frowning but she still replies," I'll send you the link."

Rue orders it as soon as Katie texts her. It takes her a while to set it up (she's a big believer in institutions being unneeded and threw them away before she'd even plugged the monitor in) but once it's done, she's sure that it'll come in handy.

It's what Katie uses to catch when you've had an accident and if Katie can work out how to use it then Rue can too.

You're returned to her the next week and Rue catches an accident every night like clockwork. Sometimes more than once and she can't believe that she missed it if it was happening this often.

It's not a little slip either.

It's a big step backwards to the point that she's started putting you in pull ups whenever you go to bed and whenever you go out after one time too many times when you forgot to tell her that you needed the toilet while at training.

It was humiliating for you.

Everything was humiliating. The pull ups. The accidents. The vicious back and forth between your mothers.

They don't speak bad about each other when you're around. Or, at least, they don't speak bad about each other when they know you're around.

Sometimes, when you're meant to be in bed, you sneak out and listen to your mothers complain about each other.

You don't know why Ma and Mammy don't like each other anymore. They used to love each other. They used to love each other enough to have you.

Now they can barely stand to look at each other and they're both breaking the most sacred rule.

If you don't have anything nice to say then don't say anything at all.

It bubbles up inside you, keeping what Ma says about Mammy a secret and keeping what Mammy says about Ma a secret too.

It swirls and stews somewhere deep in your belly until it all comes out one evening at Mammy's house after an uncharacteristic third accident of the night.

It bubbles out until you're sobbing about everything, stemming back all the way from that rainy evening when Ma tried to take you away with her the night she and Mammy broke up officially.

It bubbles out and you scream and cry in just your pull up and a sleep shirt.

It bubbles out and you scream and cry until Katie and Rue are in the same room together for the first time in a while.

You're at the park with Caitlin, taken away from this inevitable mess.

"It's both of our faults," Rue suddenly admits, very much against her will," Her bed wetting. We're not nice to each other and it doesn't work well with her nervous disposition."

"I agree," Katie says. She glances out the window, unwilling to look at her ex.

"So we agree, yes?"

"Yes."

"So...What do we do about this?"

Katie sighs, still unwilling to look. Rue's not looking at her either so at least it's mutual. "I guess we stop slagging each other off to other people."

Rue sighs too. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Do we take her to the doctor?"

"If she's keep wetting by the end of the month then, yeah, I think so."

Katie nods. "So, we're putting whatever this rivalry is aside to her?"

Rue huffs with a roll of her eyes. "Yeah, I guess so."

[gingiesworld]

Mind Blowing Orgasm (Kinktober)

MILF Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Shameless Smut. Amab! Reader

Taglist: @bababaka @natashaswife4125

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda hadn't really had a night to herself in a very long time, so the moment her best friend had invited her over for a drink and some overdue quality time. So naturally, Wanda jumped at the chance, leaving the twins with Vision before she drove to Y/N's.

"This is just what I needed." Wanda sighed as she exhaled the smoke as the two sat in the yard, enjoying the cool evening. "No Vis, no boys and no housework."

"Well, enjoy it hot mama." Y/N smirked as the two clinked their glasses.

"Do you know what I haven't had in years?" Wanda questioned as Y/N shook their head. "A mind blowing orgasm. Vis is more of pump and dump and I am left hanging."

"I could help you." Y/N told her with a smirk.

"I am married Y/N." Wanda reasoned with them weakly.

"When was the last orgasm you had Wanda?" They questioned as Wanda thought.

"I think it was with you in college." She whispered, a blush coating her cheeks as Y/N smiled at her, taking her glass from her and setting it down on the table.

"I have more experience now." They husked as they leaned into her, teeth grazing her ear lobe. "I can give you your most intense orgasm."

"I'm afraid." Wanda whispered as Y/N pulled back. "I don't want to ruin Vis and I or our friendship."

"Wanda, the last time we had done this, you were with Steve." They reminded her. "He wasn't giving you the pleasure you craved so I stepped in and that never ruined us." Y/N started to kiss her neck as their hand travelled up her thigh, ghosting over her clit through her leggings. "It won't ruin us this time."

"Protection?" She gasped as Y/N rubbed her through the fabric as she instinctively opened her legs.

"You know I can't have kids." They reminded her as she bit her lip as Y/N applied more pressure. "Let me hear those pretty moans." They husked as they released her lip with their thumb before cupping her cheek, urging her to open her eyes. Her pupils dilated with lust as her breathing increased.

"Take me." She whispered as they captured her lips in an instant, kissing her hard as their hand found it's way underneath the fabric of her leggings and underwear. The two moaned as Y/N ran a finger through her wet folds.

"Fuck." They husked as they rested their forehead on hers. "So fucking wet Wanda." She only nodded as Y/N inserted two fingers, thrusting at a steady pace before she held their hand.

"Upstairs." She whispered as they just nodded. Pulling their hand away from her as she whimpered. They stood up and held their hand out for her before leading her to their bedroom. Wanda stripped as they closed the door before turning to face her. Over the years since they had last saw her, her body had changed due to age and having the twins.

"You are as stunning today as you were all those years ago." They told her as she blushed under their tender gaze. Something she hadn't heard off of her husband in a very long time. She approached them and kissed them hard, once Y/N had reached down and squeezed her ass, she moaned giving Y/N the opportunity to slip their tongue in her mouth.

Wanda tried to get Y/N to strip as she unbuttoned their shirt as they pushed her back towards the bed. Laying her down gently before their fingertips grazed the curves of her body. Placing kisses all over her skin, especially the stretch marks since they know how insecure she gets. Y/N kept eye contact as they kissed just above her clit before licking through her folds. Seeing how Wanda react to their touch, even after all of those years spent apart.

"Fuck." She gasped as Y/N teased her entrance with their tongue. Her eyes squeezed shut as Y/N went deeper with their tongue, their hands reaching up to massage her breasts, making her arch her back as she let out a gutteral moan. "Oh." Wanda moaned as she could feel herself get embarrasingly closer to the edge. With a scream of their name she came over the edge, expecting Y/N to stop their movements but they only went faster. Wanda's legs trembled violently as she squirted her juices as Y/N lapped them up. Soon kissing up her body as she calmed down.

Y/N hovered above her, gazing at her tenderly as she opened her eyes and a sheepish smile on her face as she caressed their cheek. Her heart beating faster, from either the intense orgasm she just had or the closeness she had craved from someone.

"Are you ok?" They asked her as she nodded before she leaned up and kissed them passionately.

"Amazing." She whispered as she reached down and started to pull their sweats down. "Now I need you Y/N." She whispered as she lined them up with her entrance. Wrapping her leg around their waist, pushing them inside of her as the two moaned at the feeling.

"Fuck." Y/N squeezed their eyes closed. "I forgot how amazing you feel around me." They whispered as they kissed her neck as they started to thrust their hips. Wanda wrapped her arms around them to keep them close. As they went faster and harder, she scratched down their back making them hiss in pain as she drew blood.

"Right there." Wanda moaned as they shifted slightly, a breathy moan leaving her mouth as they brushed her g spot. "Just." Before she could continue, they thrust harder against her g spot making her hold her breath. The knot in her stomach tightening the more they hammered into her. Their chests rubbing against the other as the sweat helped with movement as their skin moved together. Wanda came crashing down hard as she clenched around them, throwing them over the edge as she kept them close to her, not allowing them to pull out.

The two soon smiled before kissing as Y/N hovered above her, brushing her hair from her face.

"That was much better than I remember." Wanda whispered as Y/N smiled at her.

"It was much better." They whispered. "You certainly got more beauty with age Wanda. Such a work of art." Wanda blushed deeply before she kissed them hard once more before Y/N moved to lay on their back, opening their arms for her which she didn't hesitate to lay in their arms.

[coryosbaby]

STEPSISTER AND ETHAN?HER SECRETLY RIDING HIS COCK DURING A MOVIE NIGHT.

Ultraviolence- E.L & C.M

(pt. 2)

Fandom: “Scream Vi”

Pairing: Stepbrother! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, Chad Meeks Martin x fem! Reader (not in this chapter), Ethan Landry x Chad Meeks Martin (not in this chapter)

Warning: dubcon, slight sliiiight mention of vomit and suicide (but not in a serious manner), stepcest (stepsister x stepbrother), public sex in front of relatives (the parents are completely clueless), scent kink, dom! Ethan, dark! Ethan, sub! Reader, p n v, squirting, finger sucking, degradation, possession, rough sex

A/N: 😱 how have I not thought ab stepbrother! Ethan before ??!! Thank you for this. The way I wrote the whole situation is literally so unrealistic but fuck it we ball. Literally going to write so many more stepbro fics now and am totally making this a series 😘 this is pt 2! Pt 1 is already posted <3 luv u

“Care if I sit here, sis?” Ethan’s voice is laced with sarcasm, and you cringe.

It’s movie night, and your mom and Ethan’s dad are sprawled out on one couch. The only spots left are the ones on the smaller couch with two seats. The lights are off, and Ethan is standing above you, a large green comforter clutched in his ring clad hands. The light of from the television makes him a warm silhouette.

You give him a thin awkward smile, mumbling a small “yeah, sure.”

He grins, but there’s a mischievous look to it that doesn’t sit right with you.

“Great!”

He plops down beside you, covering his tall form with the blanket. He moves close to you, even though he has a whole other half of the cushion to take up. Your face flushes when you catch a whiff of his cologne, and you have flashbacks to a few weeks ago.

A flashback, it seems, that racks you with a shit ton of guilt.

You cant stop thinking about it. About how Ethan threw you on top of the kitchen counter when your parents were gone a few weeks ago and fucked your virgin pussy open. Can’t stop thinking about how his hands had felt, how his cock had felt.

You shiver, and your stomach twists in knots. What the fuck is wrong with you? This whole thing is sick. He’s your stepbrother, for god’s sake!

Ethan’s fingers gently skimming along your knee cap is what pull you out of your thoughts. You narrow your eyes at him, not in the mood for his antics right now.

But, as usual, Ethan doesn’t know how to fucking listen.

“Sis, you’re practically freezing. You should move a little closer and share the blankets with me.” Ethan suggests. You are freezing, but you aren’t going to admit that.

You scoff, and then roll your eyes. “Fuck off.”

“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Your mother scolds from across the room. “And be nice to your brother!”

Brother. You might throw up. In fact, jumping off the roof sounds like a very good idea right about now.

“Whatever.” You mutter, and scoot closer to the the boy next to you. Your mother turns her attention back to the movie as Ethan’s dad wraps his arms around her.

Ethan’s scent gets stronger, more prominent, now that your arms and legs are touching. You notice that it’s not just his cologne that smells so good; it’s him. Just, completely and utterly him.

You really do hate yourself right now.

Ethan throws the blanket over the two of you and he begins to slowly lift you and sit you down on top of him. You stiffen, his closeness in such a public setting confusing you. Does he just want you both to get caught?

“Oh, look at them, Wayne! They’re bonding!” Your mom gushes when she sees Ethan holding you. She’s so naive.

‘We’re certainly bonding all right, but not in the way you want, mom.’ You think. You move around to try and sit correctly on Ethan.

And then you feel it. Big and hard, pressing against your ass. He’s hard.

In front of your fucking parents, too. Jesus, this motherfucker is demented.

You try to ignore it, you really do. But your pussy has a mind of its own, and Ethan isn’t making it any easier. His thigh flexes and pushes the muscle against your soaking pussy. He seems calm, but his grip on your hips is a dead giveaway. You try not to gasp, to moan at the feeling of the friction against your swollen little clit. It’s difficult.

“Oh! See, Wayne? This is my favorite part.”

Your mom’s voice cuts through your wild thoughts, and your face gets hotter than it was before, if possible. She doesn’t deserve this.

Ethan’s hands rest on your upper thighs now, and you feel the coldness of his rings against your skin.

He’s breathing quietly down your neck, and you feel him adjust. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when your lightly lifted by his strong arms, while he moves his sweatpants down. You try to act calm when he lowers you back down and his big cock is resting in between your pussy and his thigh. And then, when Ethan sees that your parents aren’t looking, he presses a light kiss to your neck.

“Be really still, angel. Don’t wanna get caught, do you?” He whispers, lips against your ear. You shake your head.

He chuckles. “That’s my girl.”

You clench. And then, you feel the boy gently pull your sleep shorts and panties to the side. He lifts his cock and presses the tip into your tight hole, and you almost whine. He already feels so good. Why does he feel this good?

His cock is wet, and you can feel his pre cum spreading around your outer lips. You cringe when you hear the faint sound of your creamy wetness sliding around on his dick. It’s hard for him to stick it inside, really. You had only had sex once since before this moment, that time a few weeks ago. The stretch burns, and Ethan’s above average size doesn’t help. But you sit, and you take it like a good girl. And eventually, slowly, while slightly readjusting you, Ethan’s cock slides all the way in. You feel filled to the brim, and ashamed. Your parents are still watching the movie. Your mom has no idea that her sweet little girl is getting impaled by her stepbrothers big dick.

And then Ethan just…stays there. He doesn’t move, or even try to, and you don’t understand how he can physically handle it. Because as of right now, your thighs are almost shaking from the feeling of being filled. You know you’re soaking, can feel your juices trailing down onto Ethan’s balls and his sweats. You can feel his cock throbbing, can feel all 9 inches and every vein. Your walls clench down on him on accident and you feel his breath hitch.

You smirk. If he wants to play dirty, you can too.

You clench again, your hands going down into the blanket to run your fingers over his balls. He inhales sharply, and his fingers go up to put your arms in a tight grip.

“Stop it.” He growls, his tone low. You lean back to whisper in his ear in a hushed tone.

“Why don’t you make me?”

All of Ethan’s willpower is trying to stop him from plowing you straight on the fucking couch. He can smell the intermingling of yours and his arousal dripping down his cock. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

God, you smell so fucking good.

Both of your thoughts are interrupted when the both of your parents sigh tiredly. The end credits. Ethan’s dad looks incredibly tired, barely even acknowledging the both of you and saying goodnight as he throws you the remote.

“If you guys aren’t going to go to bed anytime soon, just put on something else.”

Ethan’s head is leaned back against the couch, his chest heaving slowly at the feeling of you. Your face is hot, for obvious reasons. Your mom frowns at you.

“Honey? Are you okay? You look a little sick..” her hand goes up to feel your head and Ethan adjusts his hips. You gasp, but quickly cover it up with a cough.

“I’m f-fine mom!” You smile, all teeth. “Just a little tired, that’s all. We’re probably going to watch the wizard of oz… or something.”

Your mom looks at you both strangely for a moment, but decides to shake it off. Both you and Ethan give her a sheepish smile as you begin to actually turn the wizard of oz on as a distraction. She goes upstairs, and lastly, you and Ethan are alone.

As somewhere over the rainbow plays, Ethan instantly throws you onto the couch, shoves his fingers into your mouth, and pounds you so hard that you can feel his tip kissing your cervix. He reaches down to rub your soaked clit, the sound of your wetness prominent.

He begins speaking in a hushed but growling whisper. He’s angry, most definitely. And his full intention is to take it out on you.

“You dirty fucking slut.” He sneers. “Think you can get away with the shit you do? The shit you say? You’re lucky our parents were here tonight, or I would be spanking that cute little ass until it bleeds.”

You let out a cry, one thats muffled by Ethan’s fingers, one you hope doesn’t catch the attention of your parents upstairs. You can feel that elastic in your gut start to snap, can feel yourself letting go.

And then you literally ejaculate onto Ethan’s cock and balls.

He grins down at your squirting pussy, his teeth shining. Your sobs and moans are muffled by his hand, and he gives your cunt a light slap.

“Yeah, squirt all over that cock, baby. Fuck, just wait until mommy and daddy aren’t home. Gonna ruin this fuckin’ pussy, sweet thing.”

He watches your hole as he spreads it apart with his fingers, watches your greedy walls suck him in. Your face is contorted in pleasure, looking up at him like he’s God. His eyes are completely black, almost evil. As he looks at your precious face, your fragile body, possession overtakes him.

Family be damned, you belong to him.

[k-fangirledits]

[lynshernandez]

jenna ortega and melissa barrera on set of scream vi.