#tw: dramatic plot

[hamofjustice]

the contrast of what the "downer ending but at least you have each other" basegame final cutscene looks like in-engine and what it feels like in-context (the art) is so real

nemona doesn't really know how to recognize or help her new friends deal with grief or trauma, as she's picked up on from the past few times she's been yelled at today, but she does know how to cheer somebody up, so that's what she's gonna try instead

and it works, maybe because they just feel like seeing her in good faith this time after what they just went through together

[sv3t1ana]

SYNOPSIS ᯓ In your college math class, you’ve always seen Choso as the quiet, nerdy guy who kept to himself. He was the one with perfect grades and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. When your midterm grades don’t reflect your effort, you ask him to tutor you.

PAIRING ᯓ Tutor! NerdCho x fem! reader

WARNINGS ᯓ SMUT MDNI, college AU, VIRGIN CHOSO, tw: calculus </3, you take his virginity, you make him call you "good girl," you make him tutor you during it, lots of consent, unprotected piv sex, eye contact, sweet ending, fluff, PORN WITH PLOT, reader is very sweet with nervous shy Choso.

WORD COUNT ᯓ 6.0k

Your head rests in your hands, drowning out the noise of pens moving, glossing over the set of calculus problems sat in front of you. At this point you don’t know why you still try. You’ve failed every assignment so far, and the midterm went so horribly you had to physically go outside and touch grass to keep yourself from becoming too depressed about it.

Most of the class either had their heads in their phone or pretending to follow along, and then there’s Choso. You noticed him immediately, he was always on task, scribbling notes, glasses perched on his nose, he looked like the kind of guy who sleeps with a textbook under his pillow. It looked like math was as easy as breathing for him, and you couldn’t comprehend why someone would actually care about this stuff.

-----

Choso noticed you on day one, your hair perfectly blown out, pink manicured nails, coffee in hand, about 10 minutes late. He noticed even sooner that you struggled, the way you’d roll your eyes and cock your head back dramatically in the middle of an in-class assignment, or when you’d pull your laptop out to check your test scores just to sigh loud enough for everyone to hear.

You were exactly his type. Well, not that he had a type per se, and not that he’s ever so much as shook hands with the opposite sex, but you were too attractive for him not to like you. When you spoke up it made his heart stutter, the way you squinted your eyes and brows furrowed in concentration made his stomach flip, the perfume you wore blessing his lungs.

He knew you were never the type of girl to talk to him. Not when he overheard you talking with your friends outside the classroom about some party.

“I’m telling you, you need to go all out for this Halloween party. It’s gonna be crazy. What are you wearing?”

“Oh, I’ve got the perfect thing. A super slutty devil outfit. You know, a skirt, corset, fishnets.”

He nearly passed out visualizing you in that outfit, how your thighs would look restrained by fishnets, a corset that would cinch your waist dangerously thin and probably make your tits pop out, but he was in the middle of class, and he already told himself he’d stop getting boners in the middle of class.

It was too much for him, why did you have such a tight hold on his heart when you’d never speak to him? It just made his self-confidence dwindle, as if he couldn’t become more of a coward.

-----

It was about three weeks out from the final, and thank god these websites existed online that could tell you what you needed to score on the final to pass the class.

Unfortunately for you, you scored a measly 11/100 on the midterm, meaning you’d need at least 90/100 to pass the class with a 70%, and hell would freeze over before you taught yourself calculus topics well enough to score that high on the final.

It was a Monday, and you were feeling the aftermath of a Sunday darty a little too strongly. You might’ve slept in a bit too much, and honestly, you didn’t care. Attendance was a grade booster, and you weren’t about to let those free points slip through your fingers. You walked into class, hair a mess, dressed in the baggiest sweatpants and the most oversized hoodie you could find.

The second you stepped through the door you didn’t miss the way Choso’s eyes widened as they locked on your disheveled state. You barely spared him a glance as you shuffled to your seat, exhaling loudly in relief that you even made it here at all.

But, of course, the universe wasn’t quite done with you yet.

You reached for your bag, only to realize, fuck, you forgot your pens and pencils.

You giggled to yourself getting out of your seat and walking over to him.

“Can I bother you for a pen?” you asked, voice smooth and sweet, flashing him a playful puppy-dog look.

Choso’s face turned pink, and he immediately froze up. “U-um, yeah, of course.” His voice cracked, and you could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest. His posture straightened, like your words sent a jolt of electricity through him.

His hand trembled slightly as he handed you the nicest pen in his collection, like it was a prized possession.

You grinned, “Thanks!” Then, just as you were about to turn back to your desk, you stopped mid-step and spun around on your heel, catching him completely off guard.

Your eyes locked onto him again, serious expression on your face as he nearly jumped out of his seat. “Oh, wait. What did you get on the midterm?”

He fidgeted, averting his gaze and adjusting his glasses nervously. “Oh, uh.. 100.”

He said it like it was the most casual thing in the world. You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Okay, genius.”

-----

For the next week after that, every time you entered the class Choso was always there first, so you spared him a smile and wave.

At first, he didn’t know you were even waving at him, looking behind him like there must be someone else more worthy of your attention, just to be met with the wall of windows behind where he sat, and you were, in fact, waving to him. He lifted his hand nervously, a timid smile curving his lips, waving back as you set your drink on your desk and prepared for another grueling lecture.

It was becoming more real, finals two weeks out, and you just failed every assignment last week, it was not looking good for you.

Until, a devilish smile spread across your face as an idea popped into your head, almost a physical light bulb appearing above your head because your scheme was just that great.

You had it all planned out. Step one, wear the thinnest, tightest, most revealing top you had. Step two, ask Choso to tutor you. How could it go wrong?

-----

It was just another normal day to Choso, or at least as normal as it could be when the girl he’d spent the last few months secretly pining for had started waving at him almost every day. That had become his new normal, and it still made his heart race every time.

But that day, you walked in, and everything changed.

You wore a pair of tight jeans and a button-up short-sleeved top that was a little too tight across the chest. The last button on your shirt barely held on, the fabric straining over the curve of your breasts, and he had to swallow to keep himself from completely losing it.

“Your name’s Choso, right?” you asked, voice sweet, eyes locked on his, and oh god, you looked so cute.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, cheeks warming.

“Well, I was wondering...” you propped your hands on your knees, bending down to his level, but with the angle you were leaning, your tits were the first thing he saw rather than your face. His eyes shot to the floor. “Would you be willing to help tutor me so I can pass this final?”

You clasped your hands together in front of your chest, bottom lip jutting out as you tilted your head, looking at him with the kind of pleading gaze he couldn’t say no to. “Pleeaseee?”

And oh god, you were begging him. He could hardly breathe, his heart pounding so hard it might’ve leapt right out of his chest.

His face was a deep crimson, ears nearly exploding off his head, “U-um, sure, I-I can help.”

You smiled so brightly that it took all of his willpower not to melt. “Great! Thanks!” you cheered, jumping in excitement.

Shit, holy shit, when you jumped your boobs were bouncing right in his face. Brain short-circuiting, he had to look away, he had to. There was no way he could survive this.

Of course you noticed. “Here, put your number in my phone so I can text you later,” you winked.

He hesitatingly took your phone in his hand, fingers trembling.

All of this. All of this in one day?

First you waved at him, then you wore that outfit, and then you said you’ll text him? It was all over for him at this point. His life was officially over.

-----

It was late at night when you texted, the first text Choso had ever got from a non-family member.

“hey Choso, when can we start the tutoring?”

He kept typing out the message, deleting it, typing it out, deleting it, damn near 15 minutes go by before he actually responded.

“I’m free after class tomorrow if that works for you. I can meet you at the library or somewhere on campus.”

Your response coming almost immediately.

“i was thinking maybe we could do it at your dorm? quieter and more focused, you know?”

At his dorm? It was almost 1:00 AM and he was already cleaning.

“Uh, yeah, that works. My dorm is fine. I’ll text you when I get back.”

You flipped over in your bed, feet kicking in the air and giggling to yourself. Ugh, you loved making boys nervous. There was just something about Choso that made you want to corrupt him, smash his glasses with your heel and make him do your homework for the rest of his life.

-----

You spent all day in your room, holding different shirt options to your body in front of the mirror in anticipation of your first tutoring session. You really did need the help, but what girl didn’t want to look her best with her new male tutor?

You were so giddy about it you skipped all of your classes for the day, this was such an important event for you.

-----

You plucked at the hem of your shirt, dragging the fabric between your fingers as Choso flips through his notes. His dorm was neat, neater than you expected. His bed was all made, desk clean of clutter, trashcan empty, it made you giggle, actually. He did all this for you.

You grinned at him, “you look nervous.”

He adjusted his glasses, deadpanning you. “I’m not.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head at him and squinting your eyes. “Right. So you’re just gripping that pen like it’s your last lifeline?”

Choso glanced down, loosening his grip slightly which made you smile. “Let’s just start. What’s the derivative of 3x cubed?”

You hummed, tapping your lips in exaggerated thought. “Mmm… seven?”

“No.” He replied flatly.

You laughed, leaning forward on his desk. “You’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

Choso paused for half a second, and you didn’t miss the way his jaw tenses.

He exhaled through his nose, ignoring your comment. “Try again.”

You stretched back in your chair, throwing your arms over your head. “God, this is so hard. My brain just doesn’t work like yours, y’know?”

Choso stares at you, expression unreadable as he flips to a new page in his notebook and scribbles something down, sliding it toward you.

You glance down. A problem is written out step by step, clear, easy to follow. For all his awkwardness, he’s patient. You expected him to break first.

“You know, Choso, I think you might actually be a good tutor.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “that was kinda the point.”

The first tutoring session played out like this, your impatience clashing with his steady calm, laced with sharp-edged banter. In the end, you did pick up a few things, one of them being that your new favorite pastime was making him tremble.

When the session finally wrapped up, you stretched, shirt riding up just enough to make his gaze snap to the desk. “Alright, I think that’s enough for today. I’d say I earned a lot,” you mused, voice thick with fake amusement.

Choso swallowed, not knowing if you meant calculus or something else entirely. “Uh, yeah. Just keep practicing.”

You shot him a lazy smile, telling him how good of a tutor he was and letting his name roll off your tongue. You knew what you did to him.

Later that night you sat in bed, laptop open and textbook in front of you, shooting him a text.

“why is math even a requirement for me. be fr rn. i just tried to do one problem and just stared at it for five minutes before giving up. i am beyond saving.”

“You are not beyond saving. You just need more practice.”

“nerd. okay but seriously, how do you not struggle at all? i bet you could do derivatives in your sleep.”

“I mean, probably. It’s just simple pattern recognition.”

“well the only pattern i recognize is me bombing every exam.”

“That’s why we’re tutoring, right? You’ll get it.”

“you have so much faith in me, it’s almost cute.”

Choso stared at his screen for way too long, rereading your words like they might change if he blinked enough. Cute. Him cute? Well, almost cute. But still. Cute.

“You’re not as hopeless as you think. Just need a better way to approach the problems.”

“aww lol u really care huh? so sweet :)”

He immediately regretted everything.

“Just get some sleep.”

He hesitated before sending another text. He really, really shouldn’t do it.

“Good night.”

Stupid, why would he send that?

“goodnight, Choso <3”

He hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until he let out a shaky exhale. His heart hammering in his chest, fingers gripping the phone so tightly he thought it might crack.

He cursed under his breath, forcing himself to set the phone down. But he didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. His thoughts racing, a chaotic swirl of “she’s teasing” and “she’s just being nice” then “no, she’s probably messing with me.”

But what if you weren't?

His heart skipped as he tried to lie still, the faintest tremble in his legs and hands betraying his calm exterior. He squeezed his eyes shut, sweat beading on his forehead, heat creeping up his neck, skin burning with embarrassment.

You idiot. Why did you say anything?

The words “good night” had felt like an eternity before he hit send, and now that it was done he couldn’t help but question everything.

He grabbed his chest, clutching it like he could contain the frantic rhythm of his pulse. Was he too forward? Too weird?

God, this is so stupid.

But he remembered how you smiled earlier, how you looked at him like you wanted to keep going. That thought alone was enough to make his heart beat faster. He groaned into his pillow, clenching his fist around the sheets, unsure of how much longer he could survive this.

-----

Today was your second tutoring session with Choso, looking forward to it because you knew the chaos you were about to stir.

It wasn’t just the subject that had you on edge, it was the way he made you feel when he tried so hard to maintain his composure, and how cute he looked when you knocked him off balance.

You picked out a low-cut top that left just enough to the imagination. The black fabric clung to your body, outlining every curve, and the thin straps only accentuated the subtle shift in your posture as you moved. Paired with denim shorts that were just a liiitle too short for your liking.

Oh you were definitely going to enjoy this.

When you arrived at his dorm, he greeted you at the door, eyes widening just a fraction as they flicked to your outfit. His face flushed and he nervously cleared his throat.

“Hey,” you greeted, casually walking in and trying your best to act nonchalant, the little smile tugging at the corner of your lips betraying you. “So… what are we doing today?”

His voice was a little too strained. “Uh, w-we’re going over limits and derivatives,” he darted his eyes around the room. “You, uh… you ready?”

You couldn’t help but notice how stiff he was, how his posture was unnaturally rigid like he was trying not to make any sudden movements. His eyes kept flicking up and down between your face and anywhere else on your body, his gaze lingering too long on your chest, hands twitching at his sides.

You raised an eyebrow as you took a seat, smiling at him so warmly you looked like a beautiful renaissance painting. And Choso tried so hard not to look at you directly, his fingers shaky as they reached for his textbook.

You leaned forward, making sure to get just a bit closer than necessary, your bare knee brushing against his as you settled in. You watched how he stiffened, body going tense as if he were holding himself together by sheer willpower.

“You look distracted,” you quipped, and oh, you just looked so pretty, sitting so close to him, hair framing your face perfectly, long lashes fluttering in his direction like you didn’t know what you did to him.

He blushed again, immediately averting his stare. His words stammered as he tried to focus. “N-no, I’m not distracted! Just trying to make sure I can explain this correctly.”

You bit your lip, savoring the moment. Watching him squirm under your teasing felt way too good. You really liked this.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” You said it with a mischievous glint in your eyes, turning your body to face him more directly and leaning in, hands in your lap so your arms accidentally pushed your boobs together. “I think I’m distracting you.”

You could practically feel the sweat beading his hairline. His voice cracked when he spoke, “No! I’m fine, I-I can do this.”

He cleared his throat again, turning the pages of his textbook with a little more force than necessary. Without thinking, you reached your arm forward, one of your elbows accidentally brushing against his arm as you reached for the textbook.

You don’t know if he actually gasped or you just fantasized that.

His hand landed clumsily on your thigh, just below the hem of your shorts. His fingers were warm, thick, long, you could feel his pulse beneath his skin, fast and erratic. His eyes were wide, mouth agape staring at his hand like it just committed a heinous crime. You had to fight to keep your expression neutral, but a part of you want to grab his hand to keep it there as he drew away.

“Uh!” He stammered, yanking his hand away so quickly it felt like he burned himself. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean- I wasn’t-”

You smiled, leaning back casually. “It’s fine. Really,” you said, your voice sweet like honey. “You can touch me anytime.”

As if his blush couldn’t get any deeper, his mouth opened to say something but the words seemed to fail him as he returned fumbling with the pages of his textbook. Hands even more jittery than before.

You sighed, humming to yourself, taking in the sight of his discomfort with an unrelenting smile. He’s so cute when he’s flustered.

The tutoring session stretched on longer than either of you expected, filled with more awkward moments and persistent tension. But despite the longing glances and missteps, you could kind of understand unit 1. Progress. A small victory.

----

It was the morning before your final, and your bed felt like the only thing worth living for. The world outside was bustling and you couldn’t care less. You tossed and turned, half-heartedly kicking off your blankets and throwing your pillows across the room as if it were the source of all your problems. Maybe if I break the pillow, you thought in a daze, I’ll magically forget I have to study.

The snooze button was your best friend but it wasn’t doing you any favors today. You were stuck in a loop of staring at the ceiling and wishing for the sweet release of sleep, but even then, your mind couldn’t settle. Your brain refusing to focus on anything other than the thought of seeing Choso later. It shouldn’t have been that exciting, but you were feeling a little giddy. Maybe it was his nervous, earnest energy, or how adorably flustered he always got around you. Whatever it was, you had to admit: you were looking forward to tutoring today… just not the actual studying part.

As you got yourself ready for the day, your phone buzzed, and it was a message from Choso.

“Ready for tutoring?”

You stared at it for a while. You really didn’t want to study. But the thought of seeing him so pliant, of making him fidget like he always did, was enough to pull you out of your pit of dread.

-----

You barely looked at your notes, instead keeping your gaze on him. You pouted, jutting out your bottom lip, not bothering to hide the irritation building inside of you.

“I don’t wanna do this,” you groaned, slouching and folding your arms. “Can’t I just not? I mean what’s the point?”

Choso hesitated, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “I- well, I think it would help if we just focused a little longer. You’ve made progress.”

But that didn’t help your mood. You puffed out your bottom lip even more. “Ugh, no. I don’t wanna,” you whined, catching his eyes with yours, watching him fumble with the pen in his hands.

You extended an arm, resting your hand on the nape of his neck playing with the stray hairs that fell from his buns. “Come on, Choso. Tell me I’ve been a good girl today. I deserve it for actually showing up.”

He froze, breath hitching. There was a moment of silence before he pushed his glasses up. “I-I… You’ve been good,” he mumbled.

You tilted your head at him, still twirling his hair between your fingers. “No, I’ve been a good girl, right?”

His lips parted, looking at you shyly when you began tracing circles on his upper back with your nails, causing a shiver to visibly run through his body. “Yes… you’ve been a- a good girl.”

You smiled softly at him. “Thanks, Cho, but I really don’t wanna study today,” you said, voice melodious.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, cut off from whatever else he was going to say when you stood from your chair, throwing a leg over his lap and straddling him.

“W-we need to study,” he said, expression pure as he looked at you, he really had no choice to, you took up his entire vision, nonetheless sat on his lap. Your breasts were squished against his hard chest, your erect nipples poking from your shirt, which he saw you wore no bra.

“Chooo,” you said in a sing-songy voice, bringing your glossed lips inches away from his. “If you really wanna study that bad then fine, but I deserve a reward.”

“A-a reward-”

You brought your lips to his in a sweet, delicate kiss, testing the waters. He halted for a beat before returning the kiss, not knowing exactly what he’s supposed to be doing and accidentally using way too much teeth.

You couldn’t help but giggle, wrapping your arms around his suspiciously broad shoulders, momentarily breaking the kiss. “Jeez, you work out or something?” You asked, leaning back to eye him as your hands traveled his shoulders, squeeze his biceps, caress his chest.

“U-um,” he didn’t have time to respond before you kissed him again. This time, your lips parted to lick his, grazing your teeth over his bottom lip before bringing it into your mouth to lightly bite it. He groaned in response, instinctively bringing his hands up to rest modestly high on your back.

You hummed into his mouth, retracting your hands to guide his, helping him to find purchase on your ass. “You can touch me, Cho,” you said gently, moving your hips higher on his lap.

He nearly whimpered feeling your body weight on his erection, involuntarily squeezing you as your hips grind on his, planting wet kissing along his jaw and neck.

You laughed to yourself, he was so adorable like this. He had no idea what to do, no idea how to kiss, where to put his hands. It was so precious, and it made the heat in your center burn even more.

“Take my shirt off,”

“A-are you sure? I mean, we need to-”

“Pleeeaseee, Cho?” You gave him that pout again, that look with wide, sad eyes that he couldn’t resist. Your existence just made this a losing game for him, and his palms were already sweaty peeling the fabric off your body, letting out a shaky inhale at the sight of your pert nipples, rotund breasts that were just begging him to touch.

“You- you’re beautiful,” he said under his breath, unable to take his gaze away from your bare body before him, he could tell your skin was delicately soft without even touching it.

“You really think so?” A brush spread across your cheeks, your arousal soaking your panties watching him completely awestruck. “You can touch them, it’s okay.”

He cupped your breasts with either hand, kneading them and letting the tissue pillow between his fingers in his grasp.

“Put one in your mouth,” your voice was so sweet, so sugary guiding him through the normal bouts of foreplay.

And he did just that, lowering his head to meet your breasts and sucking so tactfully like you were a precious heirloom that’d break if he was too rough.

“You can be more rough, I’m okay, I promise.” He looked up at you questionably, before he used the flat of his tongue in long strokes over your nipple, taking his time to relish in this moment, savoring the taste of your skin on his tastebuds. He used the tip of his tongue to toy with your nipple, drawing shapes on it which only made you arch your back into him, threading your fingers in his hair.

He just kept going at it, switching between them making sure they both got the same love before you had to tell him to stop, the teasing stimulation making you so antsy sitting on his clothed cock.

You removed his shirt next, revealing his chiseled chest and abs, your mouth watering at the sight. You licked stripes up his neck, sucking on his pulse points and biting as he melted under you. You’d give him a bite, smooth it over with your tongue, plant kisses on it, then give him a hickey.

By the end of this he’d be littered with them, marked as yours.

Your bare breasts on his skin was making him feral, he never in a million years thought this was how he’d spend the end of his sophomore year in college. He thought he’d have to pay someone in order to lose his virginity, probably spend the rest of his life alone as his awkwardness made it impossible to talk to women. But here you were, half-naked and gyrating your hips on his erection. Let alone a woman as beautiful as you, someone he fell in love with the moment you opened your lips for him.

“Should we study, Cho?” You ask, looking up at him from where you left traces of yourself on his body.

“Uh, s-study?” His breath was nearly gone, lost in thought about how he had to be the luckiest man in the world to somehow sign up for the same math class as you.

“Yeah,” you planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “We can start studying now,” you began getting off his lap, and he was trying to devise a plan on how to get through a tutoring session with the ache in his pants, that was until you slipped your shorts off, panties landing on the floor with them.

Oh.

Oh.

When you straddled him again, your slick arousal was already forming a spot on his pants.

“U-um,” he stuttered, pushing up his glasses. His blush started at his appled cheekbones, ending somewhere his happy trail ran under his pants. Somewhere you were so desperate for. “I thought, you wanted to-”

“We’ll study,” you said, caressing his muscled form, using your nail to trace down his chest, then his abs. “Is it okay if I unbutton your pants?”

He bobbed his head up and down almost frantically, his mouth drooling at you fully naked, fully naked on top of him. He pinched the underside of his leg to make sure this wasn’t a dream, his head had been spinning from the moment you touched him.

You deftly unbuttoned his pants, unzipping and letting him shimmy his way out of them. You palmed the very large erection over his boxers, running your hands up and down his length. His head dropped forward, having to suck in breaths to avoid whining like a virgin when you haven’t even touched skin yet. Your fingers were so delicate yet your grip on him was firm, working him over the cloth that covered his most sensitive area and toying with his leaking tip, letting a wet spot appear under the waistband of his boxers.

It was then that you popped his cock out, eyeing the veins that ran up and down his length, his nearly crimson tip, swollen in hopeless desire for release. His balls were so tight, you massaged them with one hand as the other started jerking him slowly, almost painfully. You brought your lips to his again, absorbing all of his whimpers in your mouth and kissing back with addiction.

He tasted sweet, his luscious lips and wet tongue saccharine on your tastebuds. He was so addictive. A man so flexible under your insatiable presence, you removed his glasses and pushed his bangs out of his face, beautiful chestnut brown eyes that looked at you with so much love and desire.

You lifted your hips, “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”

He nodded intensely, eyes locked on yours with his brows barely pinched together when you teased his tip, running it between your slick and spreading your wetness all over. He was practically pleading you with his eyes, not able to say a word as he let you take the lead.

You sunk down on him slowly, letting him feel all of you and the way your tight walls stretched for his thickness so perfectly, it was like you were made for him.

“Ngh­- what is it- fuck- that we need to study?” You asked, breathless, dumbstruck when you bottomed out, his tip poking your cervix as you sat, unmoving.

He stilled for a moment, hesitating in the other-worldly pleasure your pussy offered. You broke him out of his spell when you skimmed your thumb lightly over his cheek, bringing his attention back to reality.

“I-integrals,” he spluttered. “You need to learn- mmh- integrals.”

You started moving your hips slowly mid-sentence, an unhurried tempo so you could watch how he breaks for you.

“Mmm, start explaining it.” You grabbed his hands that gripped the armrests of his chair, bringing them back to your ass, his grip tightening immediately, squeezing the fat firmly with his rough hands.

“Integrals are- hah- the opposite of- hngh-”

“Mhm? Opposite of?” You were sweating, willing yourself to keep a languid tempo and not fuck him how you wanted. He was a virgin after all, and one that was so smitten with you, you loved dragging it out, loved the attention he gave you.

“Th-they’re the opposite of- of derivatives,” his grasp on you only tightening, it was aching, throbbing inside you as you tenderly lowered your hips each time, slowly feeling him getting harder and harder, it was a battle with himself not to cry out.

You leaned in close, your hands cradling his face like he was some delicate artwork, “you’re so big inside me,” you brought your lips to his. He was in a total state of catatonia, your walls milking him with each descent, a puddle of your arousal and his pre drenching the curls at his base. “Aren’t you, Cho?”

You just held his face in your hands, he was so angelic when he was fucked out, bangs sticking to his forehead that you move out of the way for him, skimming your thumbs over his cheeks, a sheen of sweat coating his face.

“A-and,” he began, the grasp he had on your body frantic as he took in more of you, filling his palms with your curves and spreading you wide for him in attempt to feel more. He loved you so much in this moment, he wished he could live inside your skin. “They’re the- the total- mmpf- accumulation over an interval.”

“You’re so sexy when you- ugh- explain things,” you sped up the tempo slightly, just barely, but enough to heighten the carnality, enough to tighten the coil in your abdomen. “Give me an example.”

He was completely hunched over, his head resting on your shoulder as you worked your hips. He was barely able to form a coherent thought let alone do math.

“U-uh, an example?” He huffed out.

“Mhm, give me an example baby.”

“The integral of- haah- x is x squared over 2.” His face was contorted, lips sucked in, brows pinched tightly, nose scrunched as he wallowed in the pleasure, how you only seemed to get more wet the more time that passed, his multiple releases of pre making your entrance so slick, so easy for you to slide up and down his length.

“Cho,” you looked at him with big eyes, grasping his forearm. “Cum with me, touch me here,” you brought his hand to your clit, showing him a circling motion with his thumb.

“Here?” he asked breathlessly, almost jumping out of his skin at the thought of making you cum with his fingers and cock.

“Yes, mmm, just like that, more pressure,” you coached him.

His thumb was circling your clit now, adding the pressure that you pleaded for. His other hand rested lovingly at your back, and you bounced rapidly on him, your thighs slapping his with each fall of your hips. Your hands gripped his shoulders for support, his muscled physique flexing under you as he climbed closer to climax.

You both reach your breaking point at the same time, maintaining eye contact over clouded vision. Your walls milked him for all he had and more, body quivering as you bellowed deeply, all of the stress and tension leaving your body being stretched by his thick length, no choice but to hit your g-spot because of his size. He worked you through it, urgently rubbing you with his thumb while he squeezed his eyes shut, twitching violently inside you releasing his rich seed, no doubt entering your womb.

You both came down from your high together too, foreheads resting as you caught your breath, his dick refusing to go flaccid as you sat still on it.

“Cho,” you looked up at him, tears pricking your eyes and smudging your makeup. “I want to be with you,” you pleaded.

He looked at you so worryingly yet so tenderly, he put a hand at the back of your head, bringing you to his chest so he could hold you close.

“I want to be with you too.” He added.

-----

You took the final the next day, then found yourself sitting on Choso’s dorm room floor with the final grades one click away. Your finger hovered over the screen before finally tapping, the number appearing in bold.

38/100

Silence.

Choso, ever the supportive boyfriend, started gently, “it’s okay, babe, I’ll help you study next ti-”

“LET’S GOOO!” You shouted, pumping your fists in the air like you’d just won the lottery.

He flinched at your sudden outburst, staring at you like you’d completely lost your mind. “Wait, what?”

“I did better than last time!” You grinned, spinning to face him.

His brows lifted in disbelief, mouth opening then closing. You still failed terribly.

Before he could find the words, you launched yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck. “You can still tutor me!”

He let out a small, helpless laugh, arms instinctively wrapping around your waist. He sighed, pressing his hands tighter.

“I’ll always tutor you.”

A/N: i'm just sitting here giggling at this because choso really is a horrible tutor. like reader girl already had no hopes, but he just let her ride him instead of studying the DAY BEFORE the final... but this is smut, and the integral of x is actually (x^2/2)+C

[m1dn1ght-r0t]

Eyes Wrapped in Wool

Yandere! (ex) husband x amnesiac! fem reader

TW: manipulation, toxic/abusive behavior, mentions of (potential) forced imprisonment, coercion A/N: pretty sure amnesia doesn't work this way (i'm no medical professional) but pls suspend disbelief for the sake of the plot ahahah

Your husband never expected things to turn out this way. But by some stroke of luck—or perhaps divine intervention—you ended up bed-ridden in the ICU, suffering from multiple bone fractures and a terrible, oh-so-terrible, traumatic brain injury. Just last week you were talking his ear off about how you've had enough. How you were done with him controlling what you could wear or who you could see, his suffocating clinginess that devolved into explosive rages when you spent time focusing on work or with friends instead of with him, the negging, the snooping, the smashed plates... Jesus Christ. You just never knew when to shut the fuck up, did you? At some point he had stopped listening. Chalked off your dramatic tirade as nothing more than you acting up because of your period—merely white noise. How many times have you guys had this same broken record conversation? Yeah, he knew this marriage wasn't smooth-sailing. If it were, you'd be less opinionated, less bitchy, more pliant, more dutiful. But what relationship was ever perfect? So, he waited for you to run out of steam, as you inevitably do, before adding salt to the wound:

“You know baby, if you weren’t parading around in those slutty clothes of yours and acted your grown age for once, I wouldn’t be behaving that way.”

The scrunch of disbelief mixed with disgust on your face only spurred him to double down. “And maybe if you actually committed to this marriage like a devoted wife would, rather than prioritize your career and practically everyone over me—your husband, need I remind you—then we wouldn’t be having these issues. Ever considered that, hm?” He purposely dragged out his words, a patronizing lilt to his tone, in hopes of reminding that thick, dumb skull of yours that he always knew best.

It wasn't until you had thrusted the divorce papers in his face that he grew silent, the severity of the situation beginning to creep in. ...What? You couldn't actually be serious... right? This was just some lover's spat. A temporary blip that'd be smoothed over with a few intentionally placed saccharine words and hot make-up sex. Like always. So why the fucking theatrics? Are you really gonna be a bitch about this and d— When you slammed the front door shut with your packed bags in tow, leaving him to stew in your parting words—that you deserved better, so much better than him, and that if he didn't sign the papers, he'd be hearing from your lawyer—did the gravity of it all finally sink in. By the end of the week, your voicemail was battered by his countless furious messages. Are you done being a flighty little piece of shit, huh? What the fuck do you think you're doing? I swear to god, baby, I'm gonna drag your ass back here. And if I have to lock you in some basement and chain your hands and legs so you'd never think to leave me again, then so fucking be it. Divorce? Yeah right. Over my dead fucking body. Then came an unknown call. It was like whiplash, really, to first hear that you had been involved in a major car crash, and then, upon rushing to the hospital at neck-breaking speed— "I'm afraid she has retrograde amnesia", the doctor solemnly informed him. He could cry. Oh, he could fucking cry.

On the outside, anyone could see how distraught he was, his hands trembling as he processed the diagnosis, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Poor husband that he was, having almost lost his beloved wife in a freak accident, he now had to deal with the news that she didn't remember who he was. Inside, however, raged a war he couldn't reconcile: what was harder? Holding back the tears, or pretending those very tears were out of sadness rather than pure, unbridled joy? Because what this neatly packaged situation had presented him with was a do-over, a chance to mend the broken marriage teetering on the cusp of divorce. And like hell he's about to let you throw away a three-year connection like some ungrateful cunt when he loves you so, very much.

~

"Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?"

As he walks up beside your hospital bed, he can't help but revel at how vulnerable you look. The slight furrow in your brows hinting at your confusion, the way you curl in on yourself as if to protect yourself from who is no doubt a complete stranger in your eyes, and your meek "Who are you?"—a far cry from the usual feisty, snarky attitude you used to dish out.

But perhaps most rewarding of all is the tentative gaze you offer him, eyes filled with a sort of curious glimmer, free from the hostility, disappointment, and hurt you'd flashed his way. You didn't look at him with hate. You simply want to know who he is.

Oh, aren't you precious? He'll gladly feed you his carefully spun narrative until you're full of nothing but adoring love for him—the embers of your thoughts about divorce and leaving him snuffed out for good.

"I know how confusing all of this must be for you. Take all the time you need. I'll be right here with you, as your husband, helping you fill the gaps, okay baby?" He delivers this with as much patience as he can muster, softening the edges of his words to avoid spooking you. But you're not soothed. If anything, you're more overwhelmed than ever. "M-my husband?" You echo, tasting the foreign word, sticky like warm toffee on your tongue.

"And...and my family? Where are they?" Your disorientation is a sight for sore eyes; how badly he wants to devour you right now. “Dead,” he intones, a script he’d been desperate to act out ever since you said your vows. The jarring news pulls a barely audible whimper from you, your eyes widening a fraction.

Shit. Too cold. Too careless.

His expression softens, the corners of his mouth tugging downward in a facsimile of sorrow as he injects a note of pity into his voice. “They died when you were very young, you see. I’m sorry.” He’s really not.

"What…? How could that be? So my p-parents, they're both—" Your breath hitches, tears welling at the corner of your eyes.

At that, he gently grabs your bandaged arm, wanting to comfort you. But when you flinch slightly, he has to resist the urge to snap at you—Oh, cry me a river. Who the fuck cares?? I'm right here, aren't I? I'm right here, damnnit, so look at me!

Instead, he tempers the resentment that's still fresh in his heart after the divorce stunt you'd pulled by reminding himself that he's supposed to be your kind and gentle partner.

So he settles for cradling your hand in both of his like it's fine china, grazing his lips over your fingertips. "But you have me, sweetheart. And I'm not going anywhere."

He half expects you to question his story—it wasn’t very convincing, even to his own ears—prepared to be barraged by your endless streams of “No, you’re wrong!”, “I don’t believe you!” or some other similar outburst.

But when all you do is gaze up at him with cinched brows, seeking reassurance, blinking at him so sweetly with your hand still snugly warmed in his, he pauses. That’s it? No suspicion, no skepticism, no outburst? Hah! He has to physically restrain himself from snorting because how fucking easy can this get?

Maybe the collision had completely scrambled your brains, rewired you to be more stupid, a little slower—exactly how he likes you.

"You trust me, right?"

And when he feels that subtle twitch of your fingers—what he gathers is your attempt at squeezing his hand back for confirmation—accompanied by the sight of your small, almost shy nod, he breaks out into a giddy smile at how utterly adorable you’re being.

Fuck, it’s hard not to already feel high off these micro-doses of innocence and receptiveness from you. Emboldened by your intoxicatingly sweet naivety, he dares to be a little greedier, creeping to perch on the edge of your bed, his hand now moving to cup your cheek.

“You have no idea how worried sick I was when I got the call. I thought you had…” He trails off, his implication clear. His face is mere inches from yours now, breaths as featherlight as his fingertips mapping every divot on your face.

“I love you.” He drags his thumb across your bottom lip, the act agonizingly slow. “So, so, so much.” Each whisper spills out heavier than the last, mirroring the increasing pressure of his thumb—your lip almost bruising from how hard he’s pinching them.

How long has it been? He can’t remember the last time he felt the warmth of your touch, your skin… eons too long without your pillowy lips pressed against his has left him completely starved.

“You can’t leave me…” A murmur too quiet to pick up. His gaze, now half-lidded, drifts downward in a drunken daze. “My wife. My good little wife. You love me too, right?”

Without warning, he leans in to close the minuscule gap.

And it’s all too fast and soon because you can feel the suffocating heat of his proximity, the chilling shared breath floating between the tight space. It’s all too much. So, in the last second, you hesitate, pulled from your stupor as you turn your head away.

But he’s not having it. Not when you’re already in the palm of his hand and he’s so fucking close. When he can already taste the opportunity to finally take out the trash and parasites leeching off you, to call up that godforsaken shithole you call a stable, steady-paying job and quit on your behalf, to have you all to himself—a blank slate to knock up with several kids and mold into the perfect little housewife he's always wanted you to be. God, he's already hard at the thought.

Grabbing your jaw firmly, he jerks your face back towards him, thumb roughly wedging between your lips and prying your mouth open.

“Baby.” The endearment spills out, sharp and cold, stripped of any warmth it might've once held.

His gentle veneer cracks ever so slightly, and for the briefest moment, you see something else. A flicker beneath the mask—raw, ugly, messy. It gnaws at the edges of your mind, dredging up something you can’t quite grasp. A memory?

“Gimme a small kiss, hmm?” Despite the smile on his face, there is no kindness to it. Just a twisted caricature warning you that you shouldn’t push further.

All of a sudden you feel like you can’t breathe, weighed down by the unsettling intensity of his stare. The man in front of you—the one claiming he's your husband and calling you “baby,” the one touching you—feels wrong. He’s a stranger, you remind yourself. An almost involuntary shiver runs down your spine, like your body remembers something your mind refuses to.

At this point, your husband has caught on to your rather obvious spiralling. He’s not an idiot—he can see your doubt giving way to panic. He contemplates smoothing things over by playing nice, but the selfish part of him ultimately wins.

He squeezes your jaw, nails biting into your skin.

“Kiss me.”

It isn’t a request this time.

[starmaidengarden]

Hewoo!! I was wondering if I can request some fluffy for a game overblot gang would ask s/o to play with? ie. Riddle was crossword puzzle or Leona with chess. Have a good day/night!!

—overblot gang : x gn!reader. no cw/tw. established relationship. dividers: uzmacchiato

Riddle Rosehearts༉⋆｡˚ – Crossword Puzzle

He finds crossword puzzles relaxing, reading the clues aloud with clarity, fingers lightly tapping the page.

He prefers structured games over chaotic ones.

It's low-key competitive, but acts calm and proper about it. He doesn’t want to rob you of the fun. If you get a tricky one right, his eyes soften. “That’s correct. I’m impressed. You’ve grown even sharper.”

As you approach him with the crossword puzzle, Riddle raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a slight grin. “A crossword puzzle? I guess it can’t hurt,” he says, leaning in to check it out. While you both go through the clues, he gives you some light corrections, sounding almost playful. It’s obvious he enjoys your determination, and when you start solving clues quicker than he thought you would, the flush on his cheeks shows he’s both surprised and a bit flustered.

Leona Kingscholar༉⋆｡˚ – Chess

He enjoys chess but won’t play unless he feels like it—or unless you ask.

Strategic and sharp. He’s an excellent player. Chess suits him, a natural strategist who never lets you win easily.

Teasing is guaranteed. “Careful. I’d hate to crush your pride too early in the match.” “Are you trying to lose, or are you just distracted by my face?”

Leona lounges lazily, his eyes half-closed and looking pretty bored. “You really think you can take me on? You’re just asking for trouble,” he smirks, but it’s all just a front. Once you insist on playing a game of chess, you can see a spark light up in him. He sets up the board with a chill vibe, but if you prove to be a tough opponent, he gets super into it, strategizing like it’s a big deal. If you have a tough time, though, he might mess up on purpose just to keep it fun, wanting to see that happy grin on your face when you win.

Azul Ashengrotto༉⋆｡˚ (Card Game/Strategy Game)

Highly strategic. Azul doesn’t "just play"—he plots. He reads your expressions and second-guesses your every move.

Secretly wants to impress you. He tries to appear aloof, but he wants you to see how clever he is.

If you beat him fair and square? Expect wide eyes, stunned silence, and a sincere rematch offer. He respects your skill immensely and gets a little giddy inside."I see I’ve underestimated my opponent. Shall we go again?"

Adjusting his glasses with a flick of his fingers, Azul regards you with intrigue. “A game, my dear? I’d be delighted. Shall we make it interesting?” he replies, his voice rich with both challenge and excitement. He thrives on the opportunity to bond while playing, and as you navigate through the cards, he takes the match seriously. If he spots you struggling, there’s a flicker of sympathy, and he might ease up his tactics. However, should you start turning the tide in your favor, expect a dramatic gasp and a request for a competitive rematch filled with fervor.

Jamil Viper༉⋆｡˚ (Memory Game/Board Game)

Strategic, observant, and always thinking two steps ahead. He watches your expressions closely—not just to read your next move, but to make sure you’re enjoying yourself.

Finds peace in playing something quiet with you.

He doesn’t brag if he wins— “I just got lucky. You would’ve had me if we went one more round.” But if you win, he’ll raise an eyebrow, smirk faintly, “Huh. You’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you?”

Jamil crosses his arms with a sly grin. “You really want me to play? I assumed you’d want someone more... entertaining,” he teases. Yet, when you persist, he relents, the corners of his lips hinting at a smile. Deep down, he enjoys the quiet companionship, and his sharp mind gives him a distinct advantage, allowing him to win effortlessly. But throw him off balance with playful compliments or light teasing, and watch as he becomes flustered, his confidence wavering amidst the gatherings of laughter.

Vil Schoenheit༉⋆｡˚ (Trivia or Aesthetics-Based Game)

Vil plays to win—but never in a way that disrespects you. If you do well, he’s visibly pleased. He teases you with gentle sarcasm, “Darling, that move was bold. Not smart… but bold.”

If you beat him? He stares at the board silently for a second, then offers a slow, regal smile “You’ve been hiding your brilliance, hmm? I must keep a sharper eye on you.”

(He’s so proud, it might make him a little flustered.)

Vil nods approvingly at your suggestion. “If we must play something, let it be of refinement. Trivia? Or perhaps Pictionary—my artistic skills are, without doubt, impeccable,” he states, his demeanor exuding both confidence and charm. He’s fiercely competitive yet maintains a gracious air even in defeat. if you unexpectedly impress him, he’ll cock his head quizzically and muse, “Perhaps I underestimated your abilities.” A smile of acknowledgment lights his face, revealing his admiration for your talents.

Idia Shroud༉���｡˚ (Video Game or Puzzle Game)

A running mental monologue "Did they like that? Should I have picked another game? Do I sound too nerdy? Wait—they’re laughing. YES."

He may be really into it, eyes glued to the screen, occasionally glancing over to check if you’re alright.

Blushes the whole time you're sitting close.

“W-wait, are you serious? You actually want to play a game with me?” His voice wavers slightly, a mixture of excitement and nervousness evident in every word. “Uh—okay! Just give me a sec to get ready!” With a spark of enthusiasm, he quickly gathers his thoughts, his initial jitters melting away as you both dive into a co-op game. As the game begins, he eagerly explains the rules, weaving intricate details about each aspect of gameplay. His eyes light up with confidence, and his hands move animatedly as he becomes completely absorbed in the world of the game, making it as complex as possible to ensure every angle is covered.

Malleus Draconia༉⋆｡˚ (Anything Classic or New to Him)

You bring out a classic board game—something. Malleus watches with genuine curiosity as you set up the pieces, his bright green eyes locked onto your hands. “So this… ‘board game’? Intriguing. Humans create such curious methods of entertainment.”

At first, he’s asking question after question, “And this piece moves where? …Ah, I see. It is a matter of strategy.” “This card says ‘Lose a Turn.’ That’s… unfortunate, isn’t it?”

But he catches on incredibly quickly, and before you know it, he’s playing like a natural.

He never gloats when he wins a round, instead offering you praise even when you make small progress. “Well played, my child of man. That was impressive.”

Malleus looks genuinely delighted at the prospect of playing a game, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. “A game, you say? How delightful. I haven’t indulged in such amusements for centuries,” he responds, as if recalling long-forgotten joys. Whether it’s a classic like chess or a more casual game like Uno, he absorbs the experience with regal grace. The way he studies the board reveals his intelligence, yet his seriousness during competitive play might lead to a gentle, albeit thorough, defeat for you—delivered with his characteristic kindness, leaving you in awe of his skill as well as his charming presence.

[mullermilkshake]

The missing mother

Part 18 <- Part 19 -> Part 20

Hae-in is missing. She's in the most unsuspecting place.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags. - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT Pregnant reader, emotional distress, restraints, needles, arguing (kinda), medical stuff, (TW) high risk pregnancy

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

TAG LIST CLOSED

I wanted to make this chapter longer, but I felt the end was a good cut off point and didn't want to put just some filler in that didn't help advance the plot, but I hope you still enjoy it. 🤗

So, Jong-in disrupted Jinwoo’s moment with you, because he couldn’t find his bit on the side?

Because that’s all Hae-in was to him, right? Now the man had another hunter pregnant, he’d probably toss her aside too. Hae-in most probably saw her worth and disappeared with her baby to get away from all the dramatic shit.

Just like now, with Jong-in on Jinwoo’s doorstep, worse for wear and looking dishevelled after some kind of all-nighter, but in truth, he looked hungover.

“You can’t find her?” You asked, your hand holding your belly for comfort.

Jinwoo wanted to kick himself, he hoped at least this time, you would actually listen to him and stay in the bedroom. Of course not. He adjusted the door to keep Beru hidden, casually leaning against the door with an invisible huff he forced himself to choke down.

“I went to see her this morning, to check on her. But she wasn’t there, she told the doctors that she was going out for an early walk this morning like she's been doing the entire pregnancy, but she hasn’t come back. I’ve been losing my mind trying to look for her, I didn’t know who else to turn to. I apologize for how late it is.”

You lost your baby mama and now decide to make it our problem? 

Jinwoo didn’t want you getting involved, not with Jong-in. Any time together was far too much in his eyes and a recipe for disaster.

“We’ll help you, right Jinwoo?” You watched him with cautious eyes, telling him a message with your expression.

Not asking. Telling.

“We’ll help, but you can stay at your place. I can use my shadows, so there’s no point in everyone going out at night.”

“You want me to just wait here?” Jong-in was ever the polite one, even if he was reacting to being turned away.

Jinwoo nodded nonchalantly. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I want you to do, there’s no point in getting worked up. I’ll find her.”

He would essentially still have to traipse out and look for her manually if Igris couldn't find her, he just didn’t want Jong-in sniffing about. The shadow he used initially was sitting nestled in Jong-in’s shadow, Not Hae-in’s.

You, however, must have caught on to that.

“Jong-in, can you wait outside for a moment?” You walked up and closed the door before he could answer, your brows together with a hidden scowl. “I know that you need to be close or something to put one of your shadows on people, just like you put Igris on me. What’s your deal? You’re coming off as really combative.”

He threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m not, I just don’t see the point in us all going out in the dark. Hae-in’s capable. We can’t treat her like she’s made of glass and fragile, neither of you are. So, I’ll go and look for her, I'll have my shadows patrolling the city, something will pop up eventually. It’s late and you’re exhausted.”

You yawned as he said that, but shook it off. “No, there’s something else. You always get tense around Jong-in and I just… I can’t tell what you’re thinking. Care to tell me why?”

What could he honestly tell you? That he was growing a type of hatred towards the man like a tumour, every second you were in his presence. Or that he'd thought of many ways to make him disappear or suffer just to put a smile on Jinwoo's face. Sometimes fantasising wasn't enough, and the only reason he hadn't done anything yet was because of you.

If you knew the sort of dark things he kept a lid on, you would leave him in a heart beat.

Yeah, none of those explanations were acceptable.

“Will you let me go do this if I don’t say anything?”

“No.”

Jinwoo whispered, forgetting that Beru still stood there, awaiting the drama so that he could finish his show. “Because he’s in love with you. You just never noticed.” 

“Me?!” You matched Jinwoo’s volume, but shouted in a hushed tone to scold him. “He’s not in love with me, are you for real right now?! There’s no evidence to substantiate that, there never was.” 

Were you for real?

"It’s there written on his face every time he looks at you, you just don’t see it. He was disappointed that he was never paired with you, he told us that he wanted that but settled for Hae-in.” 

Okay, Jong-in never said that, but the only people currently in the room that recalled the conversation that day was Jinwoo, so who was counting?

You wanted to speak and you even stuttered a little, your mouth moving and closing into utter speechlessness. The cogs were turning in your brain, realisation perhaps? If an opportunity presented itself, Jinwoo had to take it. To drive the wedge that had already grown distant between you and Jong-in further than ever. To sever it completely.

“I’m sorry I’m naturally defensive around someone who's in love with my girlfriend.”

“But… Why is he so upset about Hae-in then? It doesn’t make sense- I saw yesterday that she was head over heels for Jong-in now, it was so obvious. Even with the other woman he's paired with. Why would you feel like that? They have literally nothing to do with us."

Jinwoo couldn’t exactly say that he was territorial and growing more and more possessive over you as time went on either. It took everything in his power not to lose himself like did in the beginning with the headquarters staff member.

Okay, Okay... The first guy really was a fluke. But I'd do it again.

He lied when you asked him if he’d kill for you. While it took him by surprise, it was more headway than he thought was possible this side of the pregnancy. You were still independent a lot of the time and owning your own thoughts.

Yet you still asked him.

It was a given that he would kill for you, but what he wanted to say to you, was that he would abstain from killing, which he had done since. It never made his impulsive thoughts easy to deal with, and despite it all, he managed it.

Because it was for you.

“I feel like that, because I’m in love with you. You’re pregnant and we don’t need the extra drama he’s bringing on our doorstep. I’ll go and find her, because it’s Hae-in. And it’s for you. Not for him.” 

Was it a dick move to say that? Yes. Did it make him better in his head that you knew part of the truth now? Definitely.

Jinwoo opened the door before you even made a sound. Jong-in still stood there like a petrified deer in headlights. “I’ll go find Hae-in, you go get some sleep. I’ll let you know when I find her.”

The night should have long since been over. Jinwoo should have had you in sprawled in bed all fucked out after one thing leading to another, which it would have done had Jong-in not knocked. Then, Jinwoo would have laid in bed with your head on his chest, entangling his fingers in your hair waiting for the twins to move so he could feel it.

But Jong-in robbed that of him.

“Then I’m coming with you, you aren’t going on your own.”

Before Jinwoo could protest, you left the hall towards the bedroom, Beru still stood behind Jinwoo getting antsy but still remaining silent.

“Beru, go and watch your show.” He ignored the little happy dance Beru did and tried not to pay attention to the almighty thud on the couch.

He’ll trash the apartment at this rate. 

Coming back to Jong-in, he didn’t seem to notice anything. But he was getting on Jinwoo’s nerves just standing there, not being his usual self, like he cared. “I’ll come with you-”

“It’s fine. Get some rest.” And he closed the door on him without another word.

When you emerged, you took note of Beru’s position on the sofa and Jong-in's lacking presence. “Where did he go?”

“He went back to his apartment. It’ll be better if I just go- Igris, come out here.”

Igris appeared on cue, wisping out of your shadow and kneeling at Jinwoo’s feet. “Go and find Hae-in, let me know when you do.”

The shadow vanished, Jinwoo took the opportunity to take a glance at the spyhole through the door to await Jong-in’s departure. He was no longer there, whether he did as he was told, or went back out to find Hae-in was another matter Jinwoo did not care to think about.

He just couldn’t stand the man. In the eyes of everyone else, including you, he’d done Jinwoo no harm. Even so, it was the potential to ruin everything that Jinwoo had worked for that turned his stomach at the man who otherwise did absolutely nothing.

“Alright, we’ll go together. But if it gets too much, you’re coming straight home.”

“Jinwoo, I’m pregnant, not unwell. I’m sure I’ll manage.”

There’s that attitude I admire. Shame it's coming at the wrong time. “Alright then.”

By the time Jinwoo grabbed his jacket, you were half way out of the door. He turned to Beru who was still in the same place, eyes peeled to the screen of two characters dancing, or were they fighting? He wasn’t sure, but he called to him like a father ensuring the teenager left in charge wouldn’t burn the apartment down.

“We’re leaving, keep the noise down and come back to me when your show is finished.”

“Yes, Sire!”

Hae-in was probably off somewhere to get some peace and quiet, you made weird comments about the facility from what you had heard. How noisy it was, the lack of privacy due to constant tests that Hae-in mentioned, poking and prodding her with large needles. whether it was entirely true and not an overexageration because of exhaustion and other contributing factors were to be revealed.

However, that could have been you last night had Jinwoo not thought on his feet. Never would he allow you to go anywhere. Never. Never. 

By the time the elevator made its way up to the floor, you were already stepping in, anxiously biting at the dead skin on your fingers and tapping your feet like it was making the elevator move faster. “I knew it was a bad idea Jong-in letting her go to that place. She’s all on her own, it must be so lonely. Why didn't he fight for her?”

"Fighting requires effort. It depends how much pressure he's under from the association."

"You fought for me."

Jinwoo snapped his gaze at you, surprised at your forwardness, slipping your hand into his like a real real couple. It nearly made his heart explode. "I did. I always will."

You never let go, but you dropped the deep inhale too were keeping in your chest. "Why did all of this get so fucked up? I mean, from what I've seen of Hae-in, she seemed so calm and steady. running off like this is unlike her, I guess."

Anyone could pull there jerk reactions from a hat under the right circumstances, even docile hearted Jong-in. "What would you do if you were in her position? Where would you go?”

The question caught you off guard, Jinwoo saw it but how you watched him closely, your body closer yet you said nothing at first.

“I would… I’d go to the place I felt most safe if I was feeling lonely.”

“Which is?” He knew already, well, he hoped. Jinwoo wanted to hear it from your lips.

“Home... In the apartment. With you.”

"It's home to me, too.," Jinwoo smiled, he wanted to kiss you, and he almost did, but the pit of his stomach twisted.

It was Igris.

“He found her. That was too quick to have found her- hold on to me, I’ll exchange- I’m sorry, but it’s going to make you sick.”

“It’s fine.” You didn’t need telling twice, vigourously shaking your head like it would dispel the link from your brain to your stomach.

Jinwoo held you close whilst you clung to him, and he switched places with Igris.

What the- This is the association facility. 

You let go immediately and heaved, hunching over the nearest trash can. A miniature one in the corner invited you, Jinwoo shook away his astonishment on Jong-in’s part and held your hair back. Moaning into the metal container made it echo, your groans of how unfair things were, something about your mana and that you really weren't ever doing that again.

Jinwoo's attention fell on the walls of the facility, cold and modernised with a blinding white artificial overhead light that barely peeked through the overwhelming stench of rubbing alcohol and bitter antiseptic. The linoleum stuck to Jinwoo's shoes, almost crispy from the overuse of cleaning substances and misused adhesives under the mislaid grey carpet that was just as dull as at the illness posters on the wall.

How the fuck did Jong-in not look in the place Hae-in was living in?

Idiot. 

“Let me go! Stop it!” The room at the end of the hall.

It’s where you instinctively ran to, holding yourself and wiping your face with your sleeve as you did so. Jinwoo followed close behind and prevented you from entering into the commotion.

Hae-in laid in bed, restrained to the side bars in wide eyed tears mixed with the perspiration of an athlete across her forehead. She noticed you first before Jinwoo.

Well, this was anticlimactic, she was here all along. 

“You came- you came! You have to get me out, they’re crazy!”

She tugged through gritted teeth, and hissed at the red swelling over her jittery wrists. Hae-in naturally relaxed a fraction in your presence, you rushed over and tried the restraints, noting the padlock on each cuff.

“Holy shit- Jinwoo, help me!”

“You have to get me out of here- I can’t be here anymore. I want to go back to the apartment, help me get back to Jong-in, I don’t want to be here anymore!”

Hae-in thrashed around at Jinwoo’s hesitancy. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help her, it was because something didn’t sit right. If she was here the entire time, then why did Jong-in come to the apartment looking for her?

To get time with you? No. Jong-in’s had plenty of other opportunities to speak to you about other things and he hasn’t, he’s just picking odd times. There has to be something more to this. 

“Jinwoo! Snap out of it and help me!”

Shit. The room stood still for Jinwoo, not for anyone else in the room. He came over and took a look at the locks, an easy break with his bare hands, he managed one with no effort.

“I’d stop that if I were you-”

“Oh, fuck!” You gasped and pawed at your chest, turning and slipping between Jinwoo’s arms. “Doctor, I didn’t see you there.”

She smiled, though it never reached her troubled eyes. “It’s alright, I get that a lot. I didn't mean to scare you.”

The dark pits under her eyes looked right back at Jinwoo, diabolical in nature to make her dishevelled appearance. A running theme tonight. She did her best to adjust her lab coat and smooth down her hair, but undid everything by rolling up her sleeves.

“Stay away the hell away from me!��� Hae-in kicked off the bed covers into a slumped pile on the floor and yanked the digging chain on her other wrist.

“Hunter Cha.” The Doctor slipped a clip into her hair, rushing to open the medicine box on the wall. “Please. You need to calm down, this isn’t good for you or your baby.”

You blinked rapidly, they gaze between Hae-in and the medical professional. “What is going on, doctor? She’s hurting, you need to let her go. This isn't good for her.”

“I will, as soon as she calms down- we found her by the bay, wet and barely dressed, shivering to death. She’s extremely stressed and her pregnancy has become high risk, she needs strict bed rest or she could end up labouring early- Hunter Cha, you're putting your life at risk, your baby's life, please take a deep breath, your blood pressure is through the roof!"

She was distressed and sweaty, wiping away what perspiration she could from her forehead before preparing a syringe to which Hae-in recoiled at. She was hysterical, pulling at the restraint which could dislocate his arm at any time.

“Hae-in, calm down.” You said. “The doctor’s trying to help you, let her help you. You’ll pop a blood vessel like this!”

“No, no, no, no! Get that away from me- I don’t want it, I want to go back- let me go back!”

“Hae-in!”

The doctor came round to her free arm and tried to catch it swinging for her face. “I’m so sorry, I really am- your health is at risk, you need to listen me and calm down. I really want to help you.”

She snatched her arm at the first chance she got and held it to inject her, Hae-in amped the reaction like the doctor was radioactive.

Jinwoo was curious. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. “Hae-in, what’s gotten you so upset?”

She was struggling for breath behind her distraught tears and wails. “They want- they want to take my baby away!”

What?

Part 18 <- Part 19 -> Part 20

Thank you for reading and all of the support on this fic! ❤️ Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated and I appreciate you all! See you next time 🤗

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DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[initforthethrill]

okay so um i got carried away with this bot i was working on from a random thought that flit through my head of cate riding you while you're trying to play video games so here have this blurb and also an accompanying bot so you can fuck cate left right upside down and sideways as often as you please! i know i sure will <3

combo move aka distracting girlfriend!cate riding you into elder scrolls oblivion... tw: girlcock, g!p user, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, multiple creampies, dickriding, non-explicit oral, orgasm control/denial, daddy!user, brat!cate, submissive!user, dominant!cate, bottom!user, top!cate, very light degradation (barely classifies tbh) 4k+ words

It started with a tongue click.

Sharp. Deliberate. Echoing slightly off the cement walls of your dorm, like the warning shot of a girl who had been very patient and was now preparing to wage war.

You, predictably, didn’t flinch.

You were planted on the chair in front of your monitor, legs stretched long in that cocky sprawl you always did while zoning in. One arm hooked lazily over your knee. The other tightly wrapped around a controller. And your stupidly sexy jaw—clenched. Twitching. Focused.

Cate, meanwhile, was going insane.

She’d shown up half an hour ago. Kissed you hello. Kissed you again, just to be sure. And then got unceremoniously waved toward the bed with a mumbled, “Just gotta beat this boss first, baby, promise.”

That was twenty-seven minutes ago.

And now? Now Cate was straddling the edge of the mattress in a tiny little sweater that slid off one shoulder, a tennis skirt, and nothing underneath. Lip gloss applied. Hair curled. Bra tossed in your laundry hamper on purpose. And still—still—nothing.

You just sat there. Twitching. Grunting. Whisper-cursing under your breath.

Cate sighed dramatically. Loud enough to register. Still nothing.

Oh. Okay. That’s how it’s gonna be?

Fine.

She slid off the bed without a word, but this time she didn’t tiptoe. This time her steps were purposeful—clicky even, despite her socks. Like she wanted you to hear her coming. Wanted you to know a storm was building behind you. And when she reached the gaming chair you were currently sunk into?

She didn’t ask. She climbed.

One leg on either side of your thighs. A slow, dragging motion that made her skirt ride way too high and her intentions clear.

You froze. “Cate—”

“Nope,” she said sweetly, smiling down at you with all the warmth of a knife in a silk glove. “You said ten minutes. And then you said five. You lied to me.”

“Baby, it’s a boss fight, I can’t pause—"

Cate planted herself fully in your lap. Ground her hips down. Gave you the most sickeningly sweet smile she could muster. “Okay. Then multitask.”

Your controller hit the floor like it had burned you.

“Jesus Christ, Cate—”

“What?” she said, blinking, as if she were innocent. As if she wasn’t currently shifting on top of you with practiced intent, thighs squeezing your waist like a trap. “Am I in your way?”

You gripped her hips like you were bracing for an earthquake. “You’re gonna make me fucking lose it.”

“Not my fault you’re easy,” Cate chirped.

“I am not easy.”

Cate rolled her hips again—slow, taunting. “Really? 'Cause your dick says otherwise.”

You let out a strangled sound. One of your hands twitched. Cate grinned.

“Oh,” she purred. “There it is.”

“You’re evil.”

“You’re predictable.”

“You’re in trouble.”

Cate’s lashes fluttered. “Promise?”

You surged up like a wave. Mouth on hers, hands on her ass, game abandoned, pride in shambles.

And Cate? Cate just moaned into the kiss, smug as sin, victorious as hell.

That boss fight never stood a chance. Not when you kissed like you were trying to shut her up. Like if you pressed hard enough, deep enough, Cate might forget the petty little vengeance plot she’d just enacted.

Except—it only made her worse.

Cate moaned into it, smug and satisfied, hands tangling in your hair, tugging hard enough to earn a low groan from your chest. She felt it—every shift, every twitch. The way your whole body coiled beneath hers, the growing heat pressed between you, your fingers digging crescents into Cate’s thighs like you weren’t sure if you wanted to grip harder or fall apart entirely.

The headset still dangled from the desk, the controller long forgotten on the floor. And you—usually so cool, so cocky, so in control—were a wreck already. Mouth open, breathing ragged, like Cate had thrown off your entire equilibrium by simply existing on top of you.

Cate leaned back just enough to watch you. Flushed, panting, eyes glassy with want.

“You okay, daddy?” she teased, voice syrupy and deadly, her hips giving one more teasing grind.

Your head dropped back against the chair. “I hate you.”

Cate’s lips curled. “Liar.”

And then she leaned in again, this time slow and cruel, trailing kisses down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Her hands slipped beneath the hem of the beat-up t-shirt you always wore to game in—worn soft and a little too thin—her palms flattening over bare skin.

You hissed.

“God, you’re warm,” Cate whispered, more to herself than anything. Her voice was reverent now, almost dazed. “You get like this every time I touch you.”

You barely manage a response. Just one syllable, broken in half: “Cate—”

Cate smiled against your throat. “I know.”

She pulled back just far enough to hook her fingers into the waistband of your boxers. “Wanna take care of you,” she said simply. “Wanna make you forget that stupid game even exists.”

And then she sank down. Off her lap. To her knees.

You actually choked. Your hand shooting out like you were going to stop her, but Cate just batted it away with a smirk.

“Hands off. You’re in timeout,” she whispered, wicked and delighted. “Maybe next time you won’t ignore me for forty fucking minutes, yeah?”

Your response was mostly a gasp. And then a groan. And then a broken curse as Cate’s hands dragged your boxers down and her mouth followed, slow and lethal.

She didn’t rush. She never did.

She made you watch. Made you feel it. Made you fall apart one twitch, one shiver, one helpless please at a time until Cate had you trembling—practically begging—trying not to cry.

And when Cate finally came back up, crawling right back into your lap like a girl who had earned her crown?

You looked dazed. Stunned. Wrecked.

Cate tucked her fingers under your chin, guiding your gaze up. “Still think you can beat me?” she murmured.

You blinked once. Twice. Glanced briefly over to the screen like it might have an answer for you. “I haven’t even respawned yet.”

Cate laughed—gorgeous, triumphant. “You don’t get to.”

And then you were kissing her again, hands sliding beneath her sweater, pulling her closer like you’d die if you weren’t touching her. Like your only mission now was Cate Dunlap.

The game was over.

Cate had won.

But she was more than happy to let you try for a rematch.

You’d barely even caught your breath. Still slumped back in the chair, legs spread wide, eyes half-lidded like you’d been steamrolled by a freight train named Cate Dunlap. Mouth hung open just enough to show the ghost of a moan that hadn’t quite made it out. You looked flushed, trembling, totally undone.

It was gorgeous.

Cate, straddling your lap once more, wiped her mouth delicately with the back of her hand. Then she leaned in, teeth brushing your jaw like a threat wrapped in velvet.

“You good?” she whispered, smug and devastating.

You exhaled like you were barely alive. “You’re a menace.”

Cate giggled. “And you’re hard again.”

She felt it—pressed right against her through the flimsy cotton of her own panties. You twitched beneath her, trying to shift, to rock up into the friction you clearly desperately needed, but Cate just pressed down harder with her thighs, keeping you pinned.

“Oh, no,” she crooned. “You don’t get to just rut into me, baby. You’ve got to ask.”

You groaned, head tipping back.

Cate dragged her nails down your chest, slow and possessive. “Come on,” she whispered, voice low and sugary. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to stop fucking with me,” You grit out, hips jerking up on instinct.

Cate just laughed. “Then you shouldn’t have ignored me.”

And then—slowly, deliberately—she shifted. Pulled her underwear aside with one hand, slick and ready, and then sank down onto your cock with the kind of desperate ease that made both of you gasp.

You let out something between a curse and a sob.

Cate stilled, fully seated, her palms planted on your chest. Her head fell forward, blonde hair tumbling between you. “Jesus,” she breathed.

You looked wrecked. Fully ruined. “Cate—”

“Don’t. Move.” She ground down slowly, just once, and your whole body convulsed. “You get to sit there and take it. You wanted to act like your stupid game was more important than me? Fine. Then you don’t get to fuck me.”

Her voice dropped an octave. “I fuck you.”

And then she moved.

Slow at first. Torturous. A punishing drag, a perfect angle. Riding you in long, grinding rolls, thighs flexing, hair sticking to her collarbones with sweat. She was soaking, obscene, relentless. Your hands were planted helplessly on the chair arms, knuckles white, jaw clenched like you were fighting a losing war.

Which, of course, you were.

Cate leaned forward, bit your lip, moaned into your ear like a death sentence. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say.”

You whined. Actually whined.

“Oh my god,” Cate panted, speeding up now, chasing something deep and vicious. “You’re seriously gonna cum from me riding you in a chair, huh? Not even a bed, not even my mouth. Just this pathetic little gaming throne you love so much.”

You were gasping now. Whispering her name like a prayer. Your whole body trembling like you didn’t know what to do with the pleasure wrecking through you.

Cate was close. She could feel it building—tight, sharp, perfect. Her hands fisted in your shirt, eyes fluttering shut. “Now,” she breathed.

And you snapped.

Thrust up so hard the chair creaked, one arm locking around Cate’s waist like you couldn’t bear for her to leave, couldn’t even remember the rules. You came hard, violently, buried deep and shuddering beneath her, and Cate followed right after—gasping, shaking, whimpering into your shoulder as she fell apart.

The two of you didn’t move for a long time.

Just heaving breaths. Sweat. Shaking thighs and ruined pride.

Eventually, Cate peeled her forehead off your shoulder and looked at you—flushed, twitching, dazed.

The chair let out one last groan.

Cate grinned. “Think I broke your KD ratio and your pelvis.”

You huffed a laugh. “Think you broke my soul.”

Cate kissed you. “Good.”

Then she padded across the room like nothing had happened.

Just hopped off your lap, pressed a kiss to your cheek—so sweet it was sarcastic—and wandered barefoot to the corner where you kept her snack stash, humming some aimless little tune under her breath as she bent down to open the drawer.

You hadn’t moved.

Couldn’t, probably.

Still slouched in that poor, overworked chair, legs sprawled, head tilted back like you’d just survived a religious experience. Your shirt was bunched halfway up your chest. Boxers still down around your thighs, cock twitching helplessly against your stomach as you softened. Your soul was hanging somewhere above your head, trying to re-enter your body.

And Cate?

Cate was chewing a Twizzler.

“Jesus Christ,” You rasped, finally. Voice wrecked. “What the fuck just happened to me.”

Cate turned, all dewy cheeks and kiss-bruised lips, and smiled like she didn’t already know. “You lost,” she said simply.

You made a sound that could only be described as murderous longing. “I don’t even remember what game I was playing.”

“Exactly.” She twirled the candy between two fingers. “Your controller died…and so did your dignity.”

Your head thunked back against the chair. Utterly defeated.

Cate waltzed closer, absolutely infuriating in that tiny sweater and the fact that she wasn’t even winded. “You good, daddy?” she cooed innocently, leaning down just enough to kiss the tip of your nose.

You twitched. Cock and all.

Cate grinned. “What? You looked like you needed a title check.”

You groaned, covering your face with both hands. “You are the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Cate plopped herself sideways in your lap again, ignoring the grunt of overstimulation you tried and failed to hide. “You love it.”

You didn’t argue.

Couldn’t.

Not when Cate was dragging a lazy finger along your chest, licking sugar off her bottom lip, and absolutely glowing from the satisfaction of bringing a whole-ass crime fighter to her knees using nothing but thighs, smugness, and the occasional perfectly-placed "daddy."

Cate leaned in, brushing her lips against your ear. “You know what the best part is?” she whispered.

You didn’t answer. Just tilted your head, curious but barely breathing.

Cate’s smile was all teeth. “I’m still not wearing panties.”

Your whole body tensed.

And Cate? Cate took another bite of her Twizzler and beamed like the little menace she was. “Better boot up that game again, babe,” she said sweetly, “’Cause next round? I’m playing support.”

The controller felt foreign in her hands.

Not because she didn’t know how to play—Cate was surprisingly decent at shooters, actually—but because her brain was still syrupy with orgasm glow and triumph, and her thighs were still wrapped around the twitching mess of a person who used to be you.

“Okay,” she said breezily, shifting her hips just enough to make you whimper beneath her. “So this is jump, this is aim, and this one makes you do the little roll thing, right?”

Your breath was ragged. “Cate—”

“Shhh, daddy,” she purred, rocking again. The slide of her still-wet cunt over your dick made you both shiver. “I’m just trying to help. Support, remember?”

Your hands clenched the sides of the chair like you were trying not to die.

Cate giggled—delighted, devious—and steered her character into what appeared to be live gunfire. “Oops. Did I do that?”

A soft buzz of failure lit up the screen. She died instantly.

You groaned. “You did that on purpose.”

“I’m new,” Cate said sweetly, bouncing once—just once—but it was enough to make you gasp like you’d been punched. “Be nice to me.”

“You’re not new,” You gritted out, face flushed, eyes darting between her and the monitor like you weren't sure where to look. “You’re evil, Dunlap.”

Cate hummed, wriggling a little on your lap, pretending to adjust her grip on the controller but very obviously not helping. “You love it.”

Another bounce.

Another involuntary twitch from your dick, still half-hard and hopeless beneath her.

She could feel you—sensitive, overspent, barely clinging to sanity. And every slight movement she made, every little wiggle or shift or stretch sent a lightning bolt of friction through the both of you.

“Cate,” you gasped, hands hovering like you wanted to grab her hips again but didn’t dare.

“Mm?”

“I can’t—” You choked. “I can’t focus like this.”

“Oh no,” she whispered, mock-sympathetic. “Is my soaking wet pussy on your very overstimulated dick distracting you from your precious little video game?”

Your eyes rolled back.

Cate leaned back, head tilted to the side, voice soft and merciless. “You let me rot for forty minutes while you hunted pixelated bad guys, baby. I’m just evening the score.”

You shuddered beneath her. Whole body rigid, muscles trembling, trying so hard not to rut up into her.

Cate nipped your lip before returning her attention to the game, “Touch me and you lose.”

You groaned, head thudding back against the chair.

And Cate?

Cate just smiled. Innocent. Vicious. Heavenly.

She guided her character back into the game, fingers dancing lazily over the controls. “Oops,” she said again, as her avatar immediately tripped a landmine and exploded.

She looked back at you, batting her lashes. “Maybe you should take over.”

You met her gaze—sweaty, dazed, feral.

And then growled, “Get your fucking hands off my controller.”

Cate squealed, delighted, as you grabbed her hips like a woman possessed.

Game time was over.

She didn’t move.

Not even when your hands closed around her hips like you were about to do something about it. Not even when your fingers dug in, sharp enough to bruise, desperate enough to say please, I can’t take much more.

Cate just smiled down at you. “No touching, remember?”

Your jaw clenched. “I remember.”

Cate turned around, leaning in until your noses brushed, lips barely ghosting across your cheek. “Then be good.”

She gave one slow, sinful roll of her hips. Just to prove who was still in charge.

You whimpered, hands dropping to the chair arms again—shaking with restraint, poor girl—and Cate cooed like she was proud of you. “That’s it. Good girl.”

That did something. Cate felt the twitch beneath her, felt your whole body jolt like your brain short-circuited.

“Oh,” Cate breathed. “You like that, huh?”

You refused to answer.

So Cate rocked again. A little faster this time. A little filthier. Just enough to press all the way down and let the slick sound of it echo in the still air of the room.

Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut.

And Cate just kept going.

Slow. Deliberate. Downright evil.

She wasn’t riding you for friction. She was riding you for control. For the pleasure of watching you—sharp-tongued, cocky, always two steps ahead—sit there absolutely wrecked, fists clenched, thighs trembling, face flushed with the kind of desperation Cate had designed.

“Fuck,” you gasped, biting your lip until it went white. “I—Cate—please—”

“Please what?” Cate teased, breath warm against your throat. “Please let you cum? Please let you touch me? Please let your stupid gamer chair survive this night?”

You only managed a strangled noise somewhere between a sob and a growl.

Cate giggled. “You’re twitching so much, baby. You gonna cum just like this? No help? Just me—wet and slow and mean on your lap?”

Your voice came out broken. “You’re so fucking—”

“Hot?” Cate offered, bouncing once, harder, dragging her nails down the back of your neck. “Cruel? Gorgeous?”

“All of it,” you gasped.

Cate moaned softly. “Say it.”

“You’re hot. You’re cruel. You’re—fuck, Cate, I’m gonna cum—”

“No,” she said firmly, sinking down onto your cock and freezing in place. “Not until I say so.”

You actually cried out this time, shivering beneath her like you’d been punched in the stomach by God.

Cate cupped your jaw. “One more round,” she whispered. “And then I’ll let you cum.”

You looked up at her like she was the devil in pink lip gloss. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Cate kissed her nose. “At least you’ll die happy.”

She could feel it in your thighs—how tight they were beneath her. How hard you were clenching, trying to keep from moving, from thrusting, from doing anything that would push Cate toward mercy she had no intention of offering yet.

“Look at you,” Cate purred, fingers trailing up the flushed column of your throat. “You wanna cum so bad.”

Your breath hitched. Your lashes fluttered. You were vibrating with need.

Cate rolled her hips again—slow, cruel, letting herself grind down with the kind of friction that made you both shudder. She was soaked. Still pulsing from her own orgasm earlier. And she could feel you inside her, still twitching, still far too sensitive, still leaking and desperate and helpless.

And Cate? Cate was euphoric.

She rocked again. “That one doesn’t count,” she whispered. “Wasn’t deep enough.”

You whimpered—actually whimpered—and Cate bit her lip to keep from grinning too hard.

She dragged her fingers down your stomach, over the soft dip of your navel, then back up beneath your shirt to trace lazy circles over your ribs.

“Poor baby,” she crooned. “Did you think I was just gonna let you cum after one round? After leaving me to suffer while you flirted with your kill count?”

“I wasn’t—fuck, Cate—please—”

“You were ignoring me.” Her voice sharpened, syrup turned to steel. “You knew how badly I wanted you. And you let me sit there soaking for you. All worked up. All patient. And you gave your game more attention than me.”

Your voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

Cate’s smile returned—sweet and wicked. “I know you are.”

She lifted herself slightly, slow and trembling, then slammed back down.

You screamed.

Your whole body bucked, every muscle seizing up as you jerked against the chair—only barely resisting the urge to grab her, to thrust up, to take something back. But you didn’t. You’re being good. Obedient. Wrecked.

Cate moaned softly, closing her eyes, starting to move again in earnest now—still slow, but deeper, more purposeful. Each roll of her hips dragged over the thick, aching head of your cock, pulling sounds out of you that belonged in confessionals.

Cate grinned through it. “That’s it,” she whispered. “Just like that. Take it, daddy.”

You sobbed. Face blotchy, jaw slack, eyes wide and ruined. Your thighs trembled under Cate’s weight.

“I can’t,” you gasped.

“You can,” Cate whispered, curling her fingers into your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp. “Just a little bit more.”

And then she picked up the pace.

Harder. Sloppier. Cate was gasping now too, sweat sticking to her chest, hair clinging to her shoulders. The chair creaked under them like it was seconds from collapse. But Cate didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

She was so close. The angle was perfect. Your thighs were flexing helplessly beneath her, and she could feel every twitch, every involuntary pulse, and God—Cate didn’t even know if she was making sense anymore.

“Cum with me,” she whispered, breath stuttering. “Come on, baby. Now.”

And you did.

With a broken, strangled moan that cracked right through your chest, you came—hard, deeper than before, grabbing the arms of the chair like you might fly off it otherwise. Cate followed a heartbeat later, gasping your name like a prayer and collapsing forward, chest pressed to yours, shaking.

You sat like that for a long moment.

Breathing. Sweating. Ruined.

Cate could feel the mess between you. The warmth. The exhaustion.

She finally lifted her head, blinked down at your dazed, destroyed face.

“You okay?” she whispered, brushing sweaty bangs out of her eyes.

You let out a sound that might’ve been a laugh. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Cate kissed her softly, smiling. Proud.

The room was quiet again.

The game was still paused—some explosion frozen mid-frame on the screen—but neither of them had the energy to care. Cate was curled into your chest now, your limbs tangled together, the gaming chair reclined as far as it would go without giving up and dying completely.

She could feel the rhythm of your breathing, the slow thud of your heart against her cheek. Still a little fast. Still recovering.

Cate smiled, tracing lazy patterns along the bare skin of your stomach, her nails featherlight. “You did so good,” she whispered.

You didn’t respond right away. Just wrapped an arm around her waist tighter, like you didn’t want to risk her floating away.

Cate pressed a kiss to your chest. Then another, just beneath your collarbone. “Took everything I gave you like such a good girl.”

That got her a soft noise—half whimper, half sigh.

Cate looked up. “Hey.” Her voice gentled. “You okay?”

You nodded, just barely. Your voice was gravel-soft. “I’m so in love with you, it’s disgusting.”

Cate giggled, shifting up to kiss your jaw. “Good. You better be.”

She nestled back down, lips still curved, fingers still exploring. “I like you like this,” she murmured. “All floaty and pink-cheeked and ruined. Letting me take care of you.”

You hummed low in your throat, eyes fluttering shut again.

Cate tilted her head. “You’re not falling asleep in this stupid chair.”

“M’tired,” you mumbled.

“So am I,” Cate whispered, dragging a fingertip over the dip of your hip. “But I still managed to destroy you, so...up we go.”

You groaned. “Carry me?”

Cate barked a laugh. “You’re twice my size.”

“You’re God,” you countered.

Cate kissed you again, this time slow and tender. “Fine. But you owe me snacks.”

Somehow, with minimal grace and a lot of laughter, you got yourselves upright and stumbled into bed—naked, messy, sore in all the best ways. Cate tugged the blanket over the both of you, curled herself into your side, and kissed the tip of your nose like a reward.

She could feel your smile against her temple.Cate whispered, “You really are the best toy I’ve ever owned.”

♡ | final boss

[tayraedoll]

Mine for the Taking

Yandere Alastor in rut with innocent reader. Alastor is a manipulative shit and you are all too trusting. 18+ MDNI

Part 2

Word count: 3301

TW: Alastor is his own warning, breeding kink, creampie, scent marking, mating cycles, p in v intercourse, possessive Alastor, oral (fem receiving), blood, pregnancy trapping, manipulation, one swear word I think?

Alastor has a plan for you. You do not know it yet, but YOU. ARE.HIS.

You have been his ever since you stepped foot in the hotel all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You were newly spawned in Hell, Charlie found you in an alleyway scared and all alone so she immediately gave you refuge at her hotel. And how could she not? You were so sweet and so vulnerable, a complete enigma in Hell. Charlie was certain you would be quick to redeem. Too bad Alastor will never let them happen.

He has been completely enraptured with you since your first meeting. For one, you were a little doe which was a rarity in Hell. But it was your aura of pure innocence that ultimately drew him in. There was no reason for someone like you to have ended up in Hell, you committed no sins in your life. For Alastor, that left just one explanation for your damnation- you were sent here to be his.

Alastor has been in hell for nearly a century; in that time he has acquired status, power, and wealth. For a time, these things were enough to make him happy. But as the years drew on, he started to become quite lonely though he would never admit it aloud. Loneliness was a weakness, he vowed to never feel such a pathetic emotion; but the loneliness crept up on him slowly until it infiltrated his mind every time he found himself without company. At first, he visited Rosie to quell the thirst for companionship and that worked for a while. But overtime even his best companion could not relieve the ache in his heart. The hotel residents did little to provide any solace for him, in fact he could barely stand being around most of them for long. Until you joined their ranks.

With you, Alastor was finally freed from the constant pang in his chest. You immediately accepted him as he was- never casting any judgement on his dark deeds despite what the other hotel residents told you. In fact, you never spoke ill of anyone. You were just too good for Hell, and he will do anything to protect that innocence.

Alastor started bonding with you over books, often catching you in the library. Soon, it became a routine to spend quiet evenings together discussing your favorite stories. That is where he learned of your passion for knowledge, so eager to learn everything you could about anything and everything. This was a quality he admired but also became troublesome for him. You were eager to learn about your deer form, wanting to know how the animal aspect of your being would affect you going forward. When he caught you looking for books on the subject he was immediately irritated that you would not just come to him for the answers you sought. So in retribution for your unwitting transgression he got rid of every book about all cervid forms in hell. He wanted all your knowledge about yourself to come from him, and there were certain parts he wanted to remain hidden.

The demon buck did not tell you about the mating season, did not explain that you would go into heat and he a rut. This gap in your knowledge was by his design. He wanted to ensure there was no way for you to prepare yourself for the season, he meticulously plotted to make you his and it would be tremendously less dramatic if you were unaware of the consequences of what that entailed.

Now, finally, the mating season was upon you both. Alastor could feel the early signs of his rut, made more obvious to him due to the presence of a doe he wished to court. He'd scoured several trees in his bayou, getting all the velvet off his antlers and marking his territory, and he was feeling more aggressive. Just the other day he nearly skewered Angel Dust on a tentacle for a crude remark made in your presence. But the most telltale sign of his upcoming rut was the constant need to be around you, to both protect you from potential threats and ensure that potential competition knew you were spoken for. The moment you showed signs of estrus he would put his plan into action.

Alastor made his way to the kitchen early in the morning to make breakfast for everyone. He had carefully put together a fat and carb-rich meal for you knowing that is what you will crave as your body prepares for breeding and pregnancy. He was just finishing buttering your toast when you entered the kitchen.

"Good morning Al!", you say in your cheery, upbeat tone.

"Good morning Darling! How are you on this lovely day?", he responds as he hands the plate over to you, looking you over as he does so for any sign of change in your usual demeanor.

"Doing well. Thank you for breakfast, I am starved this morning!", you reply as you eagerly dig into the food. 'An increased appetite is a good sign',he notes mentally.

"Ah! Always happy to provide My Dear! Do let me know if you require anything else." You spend the rest of breakfast making small talk until he has to start his duties as hotelier. Before he leaves, however, he orders his shadow to stay close to you and let him know what other changes are seen throughout the day.

The morning passed silently, but come afternoon, his shadow finally reported back to him. You were in the main living area participating in Charlie's trust exercises, but you were obviously distracted and restless. Your leg kept bouncing under you, your ears constantly swiveling around at the smallest sounds, and you were having a hard time paying attention to what the others were saying. You also frequently excused yourself to use the restroom and that got progressively worse throughout the day. Normally, you would join the others at the bar for a drink after the activities concluded, but today you excused yourself saying you wanted some alone time. Alastor jumped out of his seat- restlessness, isolation, and frequent urination were telltale signs of a doe in heat. You were ready, it was time to make his move.

The demon buck shadowed away to your room and used his mic to tap on the door. The moment you opened the door all his suspicions were confirmed. You smelled absolutely divine; honey-lemon and cedarwood invaded his nostrils and he flared them, taking a deep breath that caused the sweet scent to go straight to his cock as it twitched. He cared not for formalities or manners as he pushed passed you into your room. Scanning the area, he noticed that you had made a nest using blankets and pillows in the space between your bed and the wall; the final box ticked on the list of doe in estrus behaviors- bedding in unusual places.

"Can I help you Alastor? I'm sorry, I am not feeling well and I do not want to get you sick", you look up at him with your beautiful, large doe eyes.

"Yes, my dear, you can help me. In fact, you are the only one who can", he speaks slowly, setting his trap. You are a people-pleaser, always eager to help others out and putting your own needs on a backburner. How easy it is to use that delightful little quality against you.

"What is it Al? What do you need?" you plead, desperately wanting to help your friend.

Alastor paused for a bit, formulating the best way to pose his request as he slowly untied his bowtie to better let his pheromones invade your space. "Will you let me protect you Little One?"

"Huh?" you furrowed your brow in confusion, your body subconsciously leaning forward to get a better whiff of him.

The buck began to circle you slowly, starting with wide circles that gradually got smaller with each pass so he slowly go closer to you. "My sweet doe, that feeling you currently have- that hunger in your belly, that dizziness in your head- it's because you are in heat; just like all little does like you are this time of year. I did not tell you about it because I did not want to alarm you, I was not certain the extent of which you would be affected. But with your heat, you are extremely vulnerable. There are many brutish bucks out there who would just love to take advantage of you in this state", he stops in front of you and holds your cheek tenderly in one hand. Your heart is pounding, your large eyes fixed on him with a hint of fear in their depths as you lean into his gentle caress. "I would never forgive myself if something happened to you; you are much too precious to me and everyone else here. It would make me feel better if you would allow me to be your protector. I'd never let anyone harm you, I swear it." To drive his sentiment home his other hand came up to cup your other cheek as he leans his forehead against yours in a soothing and intimate display of affection.

His proximity and unexpected admission left you dizzy. He smelled so good, musky and savory like moss and spice, and you were starting to hope his hands would wander elsewhere on your body. You were suddenly surrounded by him and yet not consumed by him enough. "Yes, please be my protector Alastor. You are the only one I trust to keep me safe", you say as you raise your hands to his wrists and grasp them like a lifeline.

His smile widens, he has you exactly where he wants you. His victory is so close he can taste it. "Seal it with a deal Mon Cher, it is the best way. Through a soul bond I will always be able to find you, help you whenever you are in need." He stands up straight again and places a finger under your chin to lift your face to his. "I promise to take good care of it, to take good care of you." He extends his hand out slowly, as if moving too fast would frighten you away. You do not even hesitate, taking his hand immediately as if selling your soul was the easiest thing you would ever do.

"It's a deal." There is a brief flash of green, Alastor's smile is so wide it threatens to burst at the seams.

"Lovely!", the demon replies as he shadow portals you both to his own room. "Now, how about a drink to celebrate this new union?" He takes a bottle of red wine off a shelf at his desk and conjures two wine glasses. "I have been saving this little beauty for a special occasion. 1982 Chateau Lafite Rothschild Premier Cru Classe, one of the best from Bordeaux, France." He poured the wine out and handed you a glass. You thanked him and sipped it eagerly, it tasted like berries and currants and had a smoky, cigar smell. If Alastor were a wine, you were sure this would be it. You hummed in approval and drank your glass eagerly, completely unaware of the crimson irises that watched you intently.

You set your emptied glass on the table and studied the decor in the room, most notably the alligator skeleton hung on the wall. When you turn back around Alastor is right behind you; you gasp, not having heard him approach. His scent invades you senses again and heat starts to pool in your belly as your mind gets fuzzy. Before you even know what you are doing you have placed your hand on his chest, playing with his shirt buttons. He cups your cheek again, and leans in to capture your lips with his in a heated kiss.

The kiss is your undoing, as you wrap your arms around the much taller demons neck, letting out a lewd moan. You need more, you feel the need to be absolutely devoured by him. He runs his hands down your back, over the swell of your ass, and along the backs of your thighs where he hooks them over his hips. You clasp your ankles together around him as he carries you over to the bed.

He deposits you gently on the mattress and follows you down, keeping his weight on his forearms on either side of you. Alastor breaks the kiss to begin trailing his lips down your throat, burying his nose and inhaling deeply at the sensitive patch of skin right below your ear. A deep growl rips up from his chest that makes you shudder underneath him, goosebumps raising all along your skin.

Propping himself up on one arm, he trails his free hand down your body, cupping your breast through your shirt momentarily before moving his hand beneath your shirt. He gently tickles the soft, sensitive skin of your belly with his claws before grasping your fleshly mounds again, earning himself a whine from you as you begin to grind your hips up into him.

Unsatisfied with the lack of skin contact, he uses his claws to slice straight through your shirt and bra in one motion before snapping his own jacket and shirt away. You take a moment to admire the little tuft of fur on his chest, running your fingers through its silken layers before he leans down and captures one nipple in his mouth. You whine and squeeze his head in your arms, his fingers tweaking the other nipple. "Such a pretty little doe, behaving so well for me. Tell me, Mon Cher, what is it that you want?"

"I want you to touch me please", you whine desperately, face heating up slightly.

Alastor chuckles,"I am touching you! Is this all you want?" He rubs his thumbs over your nipples in slow, deliberate circles. You can feel the sensation down in your core.

"No, I want you to touch me...lower", you are gasping by this point, face red with embarrassment.

"Use your words Mon Cher, where exactly do you want me to touch you?", he teasingly runs a finger down your abdomen, stopping at the waistband on your sweatpants.

"I...I want you to touch my clit, and stick your fingers inside my pussy!", you spit out as fast as you can and hide your face behind your arms.

"My my Mon Cher! How delightfully vulgar! Such a good girl, and good girls get exactly what they want." He moves your arms from your face. "Eyes on me darling, do not look away. Think you can handle that?"

You nod and rest your hands above your head as Alastor swiftly removes your pants and panties in one swipe. You fight the urge to cross your legs, as if hearing your thoughts Alastor wraps his arms around your thighs and pins them to the bed with your already dripping cunt bared to him. Your face heats up as you watch him stare at your core for a moment before he plants sloppy, wet kisses up your inner thigh. Without warning he bites down on the sensitive flesh, eliciting a scream from you as you clench your eyes shut from the potent pain and pleasure cocktail.

Alastor immediately lets go of your thigh and growls out "Open your eyes!" With a bit of effort, you manage to open your eyes again and lock onto his wild, carmine gaze. Satisfied with your compliance, he gently laps at the wound to soothe it and clean up the droplets of blood that pooled there before dragging his tongue north where you wanted him. Your heart was beating so erratically you thought you were having a heart attack.

You squeal the second his tongue connects with your puffy clit, your legs trying to clamp shut but being unable to move due to Alastor's weight on your thighs. You do not dare look away from the man, afraid of what he would do should you earn his ire. He eats you out like it is his last meal, alternating between circling and sucking your clit before plunging his long, hot tongue into your depths. You tremble within his arms, the coil in your belly tightening faster than you ever thought possible. Your enhanced senses pick up every lewd, wet sound, the smell of your own arousal, and the site of his tongue disappearing into your folds. It was all too much, the coil snapped with a force that made your body fold at the waist as your shoulders shot off the mattress; your throat let out a strangled scream of his name.

The demon buck does not give you a second to recover as he climbs back over you, pushing you back into the mattress. His lips claim yours, making you taste your own bodily nectar as he unbuckles his belt and removes his trousers. Before you even realize that he was aligned with your entrance he was pushing into you earning another gasp from your lips that he greedily swallows. He gives you minimal time to adjust before he grunts and begins thrusting into you at a punishing pace. He pulls away from your lips to rub his cheeks along yours, the sensation making you melt into the mattress as his pheromones overtake your mind.

"Tell me you're mine. Whose doe are you?! Tell me!!", he snarls into your ear.

"Yours, I'm all yours Alastor. I'll only ever belong to you!", you cry out as tears begin streaming down your face. Your admission earns you his fingers playing with your clit again, sending you hurtling towards the edge again.

"Look at you, so perfect on my cock. I am going to claim this pussy in every way possible. Your womb is mine to fill with MY seed. You will make the perfect mother to my fawns." His pace turns sloppy as you clench hard around his shaft, your mind too fucked out to comprehend his words as you moan underneath him. Your nails rake down his back, raising angry lines along the contours of his musculature. His thumb presses hard into your clit, riding the edge between pleasure and pain. By this point your whole body was vibrating, every nerve ending lit up in white hot pleasure. "Cum for me Mon Cher. Cum for me and take my seed and don't you dare waste a drop!"

His words were your undoing, like the obedient little doe you were you came hard around him. With one final, powerful thrust he painted your walls white with his spend; your cunt avariciously drank his seed up.

Alastor collapsed on top of you, not daring to pull out yet. He meant it when he said not to waste a drop of his spend. He peppered tender kisses along your face and forehead as you started drifting off, utterly exhausted and fully sated.

As you fell into unconsciousness, Alastor lifted your hips and placed a pillow under them to prevent gravity from pulling his seed from your womb. Once he was satisfied with the angle he finally pulled out. He gave you one, final kiss on your forehead whispering "Mon Cher, sweet mama to my future fawns, I will never allow us to be parted." He nestled in next to you, placing a protective hand over your womb.

There was one detail you were wholly unaware of. Unbeknownst to you, the wine Alastor shared with you was laced with a potion; the same exact potion that allowed Lilith- a human sinner- to conceive Charlie.

Alastor was not a praying man, but that night he called on all the powers that be for his seed to take hold in your freshly fertile womb.

@stattikdemon

Thanks for being patient with me on this one!

[ohdeerfully]

Man, I just need some more sleepy Alastor x reader. Honestly, I don’t know what the plot would be or whatever but I am a literal magnet when it comes to sleepy characters😋😋

Lazy Morning

Alastor x Reader (fluff)

TW: none!

join my discord!

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You stretched your arms up and out as you woke up, eyes flickering open at the bright red of Hell’s sky filtering through the curtains of your room. You let your eyes close again for a moment, sighing and going limp under your covers again. You had a long night, and just… a few more minutes…

Your consciousness started slipping again, and you felt so comfortable under your fluffy duvet…

Knock, knock knock

Your eyes cracked open and you couldn’t stop the groan that escaped your lips. You knew exactly who knocked on your door, because he had a particular way of doing so every time. You weren’t upset that he was here, but you were upset that he was rousing you from your comfortable bed.

“Let yourself in,” You called, unintentionally sharp. You tugged the blanket around your face tighter, staring at the door as it opened softly.

Alastor peeked the top half of his body in, looked at you, laughed lightly, and fully entered the room. 

“My dearest,” He said through a gentle grin. His head tilted to the side, as if he was confused to see you laying there. “It’s… rather late in the morning! Don’t waste your eternity lying in bed!”

You simply hummed in response, and you didn’t move an inch. He stepped forwards towards your bed, looming over you. You had trouble seeing his face in the long shadows cast by the violently bright morning beaming through your curtains. But, you could tell there was a disapproving look in his features. He hated unproductivity. 

“Could you close the curtains tighter,” You pleaded, ignoring his earlier comment. You were growing irritated at the light, and shoved your face into the pillow.

Alastor ‘tsked’ and walked towards the curtains. His sharp fingers dug into the fabric… before he sharply pulled them apart, blasting light into your room.

You shouted wordlessly at him, though an intelligible ‘you dick’ was heard in your otherwise mindless yells. Alastor only cackled at you, dramatically wiping a fake tear from his eye—the sound of a laugh track on his cane joined him. He was cut off when a pillow hit him square in the face.

“Fucking close them!” You practically screamed. Your voice cracked, still dripping with sleep. You were squinting in the light to the point your eyes might as well be shut.

Alastor obeyed with a hum, a pleased look in his eyes at his own antics. The room was swamped in darkness. The demon walked towards your bed again, his eyes slightly glowing in the darkness. You watched him as he watched you.

“Now, when do you plan on not being so lazy?” There was a hint of a tease in his voice. “It’s a wonderful day in Hell.”

You slid your arms out from the blanket and reached towards him. He looked at your arms strangely. You rolled your eyes at his cluelessness.

“I’ll get up if you stay with me for a few minutes.”

Alastor thought for a moment before gingerly setting himself down on the bed near you. “I’m not going to babysit you,” He began. “Just b-” You cut him off with a whine. His eyes narrowed at you.

“Get closer,” You demanded, your arms still outstretched. Alastor wasn’t the biggest fan of your childish attitude, but he bit back a comment and scooted a couple inches forward. You lifted yourself up slightly and slid your hands behind his back, tugging him forward.

With anybody else, Alastor would have probably yanked off an arm, or something. His heart held a strangely soft spot for you, though, and he was able to fight off his instincts to let himself get dragged by your hands. He caught himself from falling completely forward, his hands placed flat on either side of your head.

You smiled up at him, a sleepy look still affecting your eyes. He felt his chest squeeze while he looked down at you. It took him a while to get used to the strange, alien emotions you made him feel in the months after he confessed to “feeling a strange way about you”, but he was starting to become more acquainted with them. He clenched his jaw, his smile becoming low and watery as his eyes watched your hand drag a light finger down his cheek.

“You curse me,” His voice was low and intimate, and it lacked the sound of radio frequency. His face inched closer to yours as he spoke. “I feel so weak near you.” He kept the fact that he hated it to himself.

You gave him a lazy, lopsided grin. “I consider myself more like a hex, really.” This made Alastor smile a bit wider. He pressed his face into your neck, and you laughed lightly at the sensation of his hair tickling your skin. He inhaled sharply before sighing, settling his body next to you.

What a change in mood, You thought to yourself as Alastor snaked an arm under your head. You saw a tired look in his eyes, something that he would tend to hide in his day to day. You knew he didn’t sleep much. 

“It’s been a few minutes,” Alastor commented. His voice had a twinge of exhaustion in it, likely brought on by laying down. It was no surprise that sleep would jump on him like a rabid animal since he kept himself awake for seemingly days on end.

“Just a few more,” You pleaded. You pressed your face into his chest, and felt it rumble slightly when he hummed an ‘okay’ in response to your request. You curled your arm around his torso.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you know you did when you crack open your eyes and your body feels heavy, still waking up. You lift yourself, but stop when you feel the weight of Alastor’s arm around you. You smile when you look down and see a soft, sleepy smile on his lips and a relaxed look on his features.

You slip yourself from his grip, and his eyes crack open. His eyebrows furrow for a moment, and you watch as he stifles a yawn.

You wordlessly blinks his eyes open and looks at you.

“Ready to get up?” You ask him, leaning over to stare directly down at him.

He closes his eyes in response again and sighs, simultaneously lifting an arm to lightly wrap around your waist.

You watch him for a few seconds, before looking up and around your room. Your eyes settle on your curtains, an ominous glow of light emanating from the edges. A sinister smile peaks your lips, and you weigh the pros and cons.

It was a brief thought, though, because when you looked back down at Alastor all evil intent left your body. This guy never slept, you shouldn’t interrupt this just to get back at him.

Plus, how endearing he looked, so vulnerable underneath you. The Radio Demon, sleeping, guards lowered, trusting you. You leaned down and pressed a careful kiss against his forehead before lying back down. He was quick to swamp you with his arms once again, and you suddenly wondered if it’d be so bad to sleep the day away.

[obae-me]

The Reunion We Deserved

I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.

Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!

TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.

Word Count: 4,391

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…

Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.

“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”

“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”

Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”

“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.

“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”

Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”

“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”

All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”

“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.

“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”

“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.

The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…

And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.

Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.

After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.

“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.

“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”

“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“

“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.

The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.

This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.

You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.

Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.

Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.

“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”

A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”

The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.”

A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.

“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“

A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.

Your eyes went wide.

The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.

The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”

Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.

Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.

Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.

Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.

Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.

White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.

“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.

Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’… I’m nothin’…”

Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.

Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”

You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”

That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…

However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.

Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”

“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”

The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.

Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”

At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.

For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”

Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.

But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”

“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”

“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”

“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”

“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”

“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”

“You belong with us. End of story.”

“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”

“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”

“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”

“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”

“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“

“How much we love you too.”

[communicationthroughlyrics]

Come With Us and You Will See

Valkyrie's Halloween parties always brought out the lust in everyone. But between you, Wanda, and Natasha- you didn't share well. What happens when things get a little bit too spicy for your jealous ass to handle?

AN: Happy early Halloweenie, folks! I got a little carried away, so have fun!

18+ ONLY

TW: porn with plot, implied orgy, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, enchanted strap, slight degradation, WandaNat, spanking, multiple orgasms, sub/dom dynamic... yeahhh lemme know if I missed something XD

9.9K WORD COUNT

The Ghouls All Came From Their Humble Abodes

In the quiet, suburban neighborhood, a quaint house with a meticulously trimmed lawn stood out from the rest. It was the home of Natasha and Wanda, two middle-aged women with a penchant for the dramatic. They lived a life of vibrant colors and boundless imagination, turning every mundane event into an opportunity for celebration. Inside, the walls were adorned with paintings that whispered of distant lands, and the air had the scent of exotic spices, hinting at Natasha's love for cooking. Wanda, on the other hand, had a green thumb that could coax even the most stubborn of plants into a blooming pattern of life.

You had been a pleasant surprise to thier mundane routine. Young and full of life, you brought a spark to their lives that had been missing since their youth. They had found in you a muse, a playmate, and a confidante all rolled into one. The three of you had been inseparable since the fateful night you'd stumbled into Natasha's art gallery, lost in the rain, and she had offered you shelter.

The older women showed you another level of intimacy that you had only ever dreamed of- and in return, you gave them the orgasms they had been craving. They had taught you the art of seduction, whispering sweet nothings in Russian accents that made your toes curl, and your cheeks flush. Your days were filled with laughter, passion, and the gentle thrill of discovery as you learned the intricacies of their desires.

Tonight, you were destined for an adults-only costume party. Valkyrie, one of the trusted confidantes of your lovers, promised a night of revelry that would be unforgettable. You knew that the two women who had held your heart captive for the last 10 months were going to pull out all the stops for Halloween. The anticipation had been building all week, with Natasha and Wanda teasing you with glimpses of their costumes that grew more risque with each day.

In return, you made sure to let thier anticipation build as they tried to get you to reveal your costume. You had kept it a secret, smiling mischievously each time they asked, only saying that it was going to be something that would make their jaws drop. As the night of the party grew closer, the house buzzed with excitement.

You dusted your face, neck, and chest with a pale setting powder- dulling your skin tone to a milky white before applying some darker makeup to accentuate your already chiseled features. That was one thing that Wanda and Natasha both made sure to compliment you regularly about- how well you took care of yourself and your physique. The costume you've chosen was a nod to the grim reaper- a sleek black robe that clung to your broad shoulders and tapered to your waist, with a silver cane-sized scythe resting against the wall. The hood was drawn back, exposing your hair freshly dyed hair slicked back.

The darkness surrounding your eyes was contrasted by the contacts you chose to wear, and your chest was almost bare underneath, the robe was carefully fashioned to prevent your chest from being too revealed. You chose a simple pinstriped waistcoat and slacks, hiding the surprise you recently purchased for your two lovers.

As you stepped into the living room, Natasha and Wanda were waiting, their eyes on each other as they danced to some music in the living room, waiting for you to come downstairs. You silently leaned against the archway into the room, leaning with your cane in your hand. Not wanting to disrupt the moment, you watched them move in tandem, thier years of marriage apparent in how they moved as one.

Natasha, dressed as a sultry vampiress, had her hair in curls that cascaded down her shoulders, a crimson dress that hugged her curves and showcased her ample cleavage, and a necklace of gleaming black pearls around her neck. Her lips were a deep shade of red, matching the color of her fingernails and the tips of her sharp, vampiric teeth that peeked out when she smiled. Red was always her color, and any time she wore it, you made sure to make her aware- often, the blush you would cause rivaling the crimson she was adorned in.

Wanda, on the other hand, had chosen a more enigmatic costume. Her long, brown hair was swept into an elegant updo, with a few loose strands framing her face. She was dressed as a fortune teller, complete with a sheer shawl draped over her shoulders and a crystal-laden neckline that drew attention to her piercing green eyes. Her dress was a deep, mysterious green that swirled around her legs as she danced, hinting at the secrets she was known to keep.

The women together were sure to stop any show, a breathtaking mixture of elegance and seductiveness that sent your pulse racing every time you saw them. As they caught sight of you, the music seemed to pause for a moment. Natasha's eyes widened with a predatory glint, and Wanda's lips curled into a knowing smile. They had both chosen costumes that left little to the imagination, but it was your transformation that truly stole their breath away.

Wanda broke free of Natasha's grasp, seemingly floating in your direction. "Detka," she purred, her eyes sparkling with excitement, "you look absolutely... ravishing!"

Natasha stepped closer, her vampire cape billowing around her as she did so. "You've truly outdone yourself this time," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "The Grim Reaper has never looked so... alive, Malysh."

You couldn't help but chuckle, the sound echoing through the hallway as you twirled the scythe in your hand. "I had to match your level of drama," you replied, your gaze flicking between them.

Natasha sailed towards you, her fingertips grazing over the fabric of your costume. "But, my love," she whispered, her breath hot against your neck, "you've gone above and beyond." Her eyes danced with mischief as she leaned closer, her teeth grazing your earlobe. "I can't wait to see what kind of mischief the three of us will get into tonight." Wanda's fingers danced along the exposed skin of your chest, leaving a lingering kiss on your collarbone before you guided them toward the door.

As you stepped into the night, the cool autumn air kissing your skin, Natasha and Wanda linked arms with you, their laughter a harmonious melody that filled the quiet streets. The party was already in full swing when you arrived at Valkyrie's, the throb of music and the cacophony of voices spilling out from the open windows. The house itself was transformed into a haunted mansion, complete with cobwebs, flickering lights, and an eerie fog that danced along the ground.

The moment you entered the party, all eyes turned towards the three of you. The room was a kaleidoscope of colors, with guests dressed in various costumes that ranged from playful to downright terrifying, but all in varying levels of sinful. But it was Natasha and Wanda who truly stole the show. Their allure was magnetic, and the way they looked at you was nothing short of possessive. You felt a thrill of excitement and a hint of pride knowing you were the center of their universe.

Valkyrie, dressed as a scantily clad Viking queen, spotted you from across the room. She raised her goblet in a toast, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "Welcome, my lovelies!" she bellowed, her strong voice cutting through the din. She wove through the crowd, her skirt swishing around her powerful legs. "You've outdone yourselves! Natasha, Wanda, your costumes are absolutely... divine," she said with a knowing wink, kissing them on the cheek. "And... Y/N, you look... stunning, my dear." Val leaned in to kiss your cheek but pecked a little too close to your mouth for comfort. You felt Wanda's grip on your arm tighten slightly, never having been a fan of how much Val took a liking to you.

The party was a whirlwind of activity. Enchanting witches and warlocks mingled with ghosts and beguiling goblins, and the air was thick with the scent of sweat, booze, and food as the gathering was in full swing. Dancing bodies were everywhere, everyone dressed in a sexy costume of some sort, and you were sure that by the end of this party, most costumes would be discarded and forgotten on the floor. Val's parties always seemed to end that way.

You graciously accepted compliments and sipped from the goblet that was filled for you, feeling the buzz of alcohol melding with the electricity in the air. You, Nat, and Wanda had split up, floating from group to group and mingling on your own, compliments and praises being rained down on the three of you separately as well as together. The night was a blur of laughter and whispered conversations, of secrets shared and glances exchanged that promised much more than simple pleasantries. Eventually, Val made her way up to a makeshift stage in the center of the room, clearing her throat into a microphone to gain everyone's attention.

"Welcome, my dear guests, to the most wickedly enchanting night of the year!" she announced, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Now, as per tradition, we shall begin the costume contest!" There was a rush of cheers and claps as the lights dimmed, and a spotlight was directed towards the stage as the rest of the lights dimmed. You glanced around the room, Noticing that Nat and Wanda had made thier way back to each other and were staring at you expectantly from across the room. You shot them a cheeky wink before redirecting your attention, glancing around the room at all the costumes before you.

You laughed as Steve, dressed as a Chippendale Zombie, struggled to direct the spotlight where he wanted it. The room was a masquerade of shadows, clapping, and cheers as Steve guided the light to people who had voted to compete against one another. The costumes were a mix of pop culture references and old-school horror classics, each one more elaborate than the last.

Valkyrie announced each participant with flair, her voice resonating with the joy of the evening. Wand and Natasha both had been selected and were standing on opposite ends of the stage.  "And now, for the pièce de résistance," Valkyrie said, her eyes locking onto you, "our very own, sexy as hell, pun intended, Grim Reaper, Y/N!" The spotlight found you, and the room fell silent, save for the dull roar of the classic Halloween music.

You took a sip from your goblet, feeling the warmth spread through your chest as you made your way to the stage, the silver scythe glinting under the lights. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, all eyes on you as you moved with a grace that belied your size. The scythe was surprisingly light, and you twirled it in one hand as you climbed the stairs with a dramatic flair, feeling every eye in the room on you.

You began to walk to Wanda, but Val pulled you towards her at center stage.

"Ah, ah," she said with a playful shake of her head, "let's get a good look at all our contestants before the final reveal of our winners." she winked at you, spinning you around before looping her arm with yours. You knew this was a dangerous game- Wanda and Natasha both had dark looks adorning thier features. They didn't like sharing you, not even in jest. And the feeling was mutual. The women caught everyone's eye no matter where you were, and they often poked at your jealousy. Even when the three of you came to Val's parties, you would only entertain the thought of the two women.

Others had tried to break into your threesomes before but never succeeded. The tension between you three was always palpable, a dance of desire and territorial claim. Val knew the rules and had always respected them, but tonight, she was pushing the boundaries with her playful flirting.

Wanda's eyes narrowed as she watched you with Val, her hand tightening around her crystal ball. Natasha's smile was forced, the vampiric fangs she wore glinting in the light as she took a sip from her goblet. The room grew hot with unspoken emotions, a silent battle of wills playing out.

The music picked up tempo as you watched Natasha strut across the stage, her crimson dress fluttering like the wings of a bat in the moonlight. She stopped in front of Wanda and did a dramatic twirl, her vampiric teeth gleaming as she sunk them into her bottom lip. Wanda, ever the performer, played along, her eyes never leaving yours as Natasha approached her, the scent of the incense Natasha had picked up at the local metaphysical shop swirling around her like a seductive fog.

Natasha leaned in, grasping Wanda by the waist and tiling her backward, exposing the brunette's neck. She leaned in, biting it gently, leaving an imprint of the fake teeth she had been wearing all night. The crowd gasped, but you knew it was all for show. Wanda's eyes never left yours as Natasha did this, a silent challenge dancing within their emerald depths. You felt your heart rate spike, a thrill of excitement and desire coursing through your veins. You tilted your head, almost in a pompous way, a seductive smirk gracing your features.

Your resolve waivered, however, when Val made her way over to the couple- grasping the back of Natasha's neck and whispering something in her ear before pulling Wanda closer, almost kissing her. They knew you would hate this, your hatred of watching someone commandeer them the way you usually did was not foreign to them. And yet, as Natasha's eyes sparkled with mischief, Wanda's with a hint of anger, you felt your desire flare up, a thrill of jealousy turning your cheeks hot.

You sucked in a sharp breath, shooting them both a pointed stare before turning your attention back to the party at hand. Val stalked back to you, leaning into your frame as she began to announce the 4th, 3rd, and 2nd place winners. Your gaze kept wandering over to Nat and Wanda, watching the tension build between them. You felt the anticipation in the air as the music grew more intense, and Val prepared to announce the winning contestant while her hands wandered all over your clothed chest.

The room was alight with whispers and guesses, the excitement reaching a crescendo as Valkyrie dramatically paused, her hand hovering over the envelope containing the first-place winner's name. "And now, for the moment we've all been waiting for!" she shouted, ripping open the envelope with a flourish. "The grand prize goes to..." She scanned the paper, her eyes flickering with amusement. "The Reaper!"

Val winked at you, leaning in towards your ear. "Don't have too much fun with them,"  she quipped. "Save some of your lovin' for the rest of us." Her words were playful, but you felt the underlying tension in the air thicken. You watched as she walked over to the two women, leaning in and kissing Natasha passionately before turning her attention to Wanda.

You felt your blood boil at Val's audacity, she knew better than to try and stake any claim to them without permission. That had always been the rule of these get-togethers. Permission had to be given, and for you three, it was never granted.

As Val pulled away from Wanda, the fortune teller's eyes flickered to yours, the emerald depths swirling with a mix of anger and arousal. Natasha's gaze was equally intense, the hunger in her eyes a silent declaration of war. You stepped forward, the silver scythe gliding through the air as you approached the stage. The crowd parted, creating a path for you, their whispers a symphony of anticipation.

You pushed Val out of the way, staring down the two women with whom you shared the most intimate moments. "Looks like I've got two wayward little souls to collect," you murmured darkly, the corners of your mouth curling up in a sinister smile. The crowd hushed, sensing the sudden shift in the room's dynamic. Natasha visibly gulped at how dark your aura became while Wanda stood with her legs crossed, her eyes dilated with lust at your possessiveness.

You stepped closer to Natasha, your hand reaching up to remove the cape from her shoulders. She trembled under your touch, the fabric sliding off with ease, revealing her crimson dress. "I think it's time for my prize," you said, your voice low and filled with promise. Your hand slid down her arm, the fabric of your glove sending a shiver down her spine as you gently pulled her closer. You leaned in, your breath hot on her neck. "You know what happens to those who don't respect the rules of the game."

She released a breathy gasp, goosebumps erupting where your breath touched her skin. You suddenly pulled away, turning to Wanda, who was further gone than her wife.

"And you, darling..." you glared at the darkened eyes of your other lover, stepping towards her shivering frame. "Are you such an impatient little whore that you have to stand there, legs crossed, to get the friction you want?" You whispered in Wanda's ear, her body visibly responding to your words. "Tell me, Wanda," you began, raising your hand to her neck as you tilted her head, making Natasha's bite mark stand out in the dim light. "Do you think that you should be...punished?" your inflection on the punishment caused a moan to escape her, her eyes pinched shut.

Without waiting for a response, you leaned in and claimed her mouth, your teeth grazing her bottom lip as Natasha watched with a mix of jealousy and arousal. The crowd had gone silent, the music now nothing but a faint background to the scene unfolding on stage. You felt Natasha's eyes on you, her desire palpable. You knew it was a dance you had to perform, a dance of power and submission that the three of you had perfected over the months.

You pulled away, noting that others in the party had started to strip thier partners for the night in various states of intimacy while others watched the three of you. "I think we need to show everyone who you two belong to." You commanded between the two, your grip tightening on Wanda's hip and Natasha's arm. You didn't have to say it out loud; they knew the score.

"I have a surprise for the two of you," you said with a wicked smile as you led Natasha and Wanda to the center of the stage, the crowd that had made its way up part for you like the Red Sea. You had planned this moment for weeks, ever since you heard about the party. You had bought something special for them, a costume that would not only blow their minds but also cement your dominance over them for the rest of the night.

The lights grew dimmer, and the music slowed to a seductive rhythm as if the room itself was holding its breath in anticipation. You sat on the throne that was perched on the highest point of the stage, grasping Natasha by the back of her neck and pulling her in for a searing kiss. You could hear Wanda moan next to you, the passion between the three of you always making the other weak. The audience watched, enraptured by the raw intimacy playing out before them.

You broke the kiss, a smirk playing on your lips as you looked Natasha in the eyes, the intensity of the moment causing her pupils to dilate. "Strip for me," you murmured, your voice low and demanding. The crowd's anticipation grew as Natasha obeyed, her hands moving to the neckline of her crimson dress. She made a show of it as she peeled it away from her body, revealing her full, round breasts, the fabric clinging to her skin for a brief moment before it fell to the floor. Her body was a canvas of desire, already painted with the sweat of the dance and the anticipation of the night ahead as she sat on the right-hand arm of your current seat.

You turned your attention to Wanda, who was seated on the other arm of the throne, reaching up and pulling her down roughly, causing her to fall to her knees in front of you. Her eyes never left yours as you untied the laces of her fortune teller's top, revealing the taut, toned stomach and the lacy lingerie that you knew would make Natasha's mouth water. You watched as Natasha's gaze roved over Wanda's exposed flesh, her teeth biting into her bottom lip as she took in the sight.

"Wanda," you directed, watching her suck her bottom lip in between her teeth. "Take it off," you ordered, your voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to echo through the room. The fortune teller's eyes smoldered with need as she obeyed, her top falling away and exposing the matching crimson bra beneath. The crowd's whispers grew louder, a symphony of desire and excitement that only fueled your own.

Before you knew it, Wanda was nude on her knees in front of you, and Natasha was bare on your right hand, her own hands wandering over your partially exposed chest. The crowd's whispers grew to a murmur of appreciation, the room a sea of lustful energy. You leaned back on the throne, your eyes taking in the beauty of your lovers, feeling like the king of the world.

"Now," you began, your voice has become deeper and raspier with lust. You grasped one of Natasha's hands, guiding it down towards the newest addition to your repertoire. You motioned for Wanda to lean in, and she did so diligently, resting her cheek on your upper thigh as she watched Natasha's hand as she raked her own up and down your inner thigh. "I want to show you what I've got for you," you whispered, your free hand reaching out and raking through the brunette's hair.

Natasha took the hint, reaching down to the apex of your thighs, feeling the girth that rests between your toned thighs. You looked up as she moaned at the discovery, her breathing becoming audibly heavier. You watched as Natasha's hand began to stroke the length of your fake cock, her eyes never leaving yours as she did so, a silent question in them. You nodded, giving her the go-ahead, and she leaned down, unzipping the fly of your slacks as Wanda unbuckled your belt.

The room was a haze of desire as Natasha pulled out the strap-on you had hidden beneath your costume. It was a sleek, black, and realistic dildo, a symbol of power and dominance in the bedroom that you wanted to use with the women after your first meaningful night together. The crowd watched with bated breath as Natasha held it up, her eyes gleaming with excitement and a hint of trepidation. Wanda looked up at you with a mix of excitement and fear, the thrill of the unknown sparking a fire within her that you hadn't seen in quite some time. There was a red glint in Wanda's eyes as she gazed up and down the length of the toy.

You groaned as Natasha spit onto the tip of the toy, her deft hand working it up and down as Wanda kissed the shaft, as well as your stomach and the exposed portions of your thighs. They were working you to a high quickly, the feeling almost like you had a pulsing cock. The room's anticipation grew as Nat leaned back, placing the toy against her mouth, her eyes locked on yours. She sucked on it, her tongue swirling around the head before she pulled away, leaving it glistening with her saliva.

"I think that someone needs to be punished, sweet girl." You grasp Natasha's chin, gazing into her hazy eyes. They widen when she realizes that you're talking to her. You gesture to Wanda, still on her knees, her eyes dark with want. "Take your punishment," you murmur, and she nods, eager for whatever you have in store for her. "And you," you send a pointed command to the brunette waiting at your side. "Sit still and watch like the good girl I know you are. You know what happens if you don't."

A sneering smile crept across your features as she nodded her head rapidly. "Good girl, Wands. Behave like that, and maybe I'll reward you instead." The room watched in anticipation as Natasha began to work the strap-on around your waist, her hands shaking with excitement as her mouth wrapped around the tip. You could almost swear that it felt like the member was attached, but you chalked it up to the passion of the moment and how good the two women before you looked on thier knees for you.

Natasha continued her relentless assault on the toy that was wrapped around your hips, effectively gagging herself as she prodded the back of her throat with your toy. Wanda's eyes were glued to the scene, her mouth watering at the thought of what was to come. You leaned back, your hand reaching for Natasha's hair, gripping it tightly as you began to rock your hips into her face, the leather of the strap-on creaking with each movement.

The crowd watched with bated breath, the energy of the room palpable as Natasha's moans grew louder around your strap-on, her eyes glazed with lust. You knew she was enjoying this; the power play was a new twist on your usual dynamic, and it was driving her wild. You watched as Wanda's hand slid down her stomach, her fingers delving into her wetness as she watched Natasha's face contort with pleasure.

The music grew louder, the bass thumping in time with your pulse as Natasha pulled away, gasping for air. You leaned down and whispered something in her ear, your hand still tangled in her hair, and she nodded eagerly. You glanced in Wanda's direction, watching as her fingers delved deep into her heat, the passionate sound of her arousal echoing on the stage as her digits buried themselves deep within her tight pussy.

You couldn't be bothered to correct her behavior with the view of Natasha bent over, ass up before you. "You know what to do," you murmured, and Natasha nodded as you tangled your fingers in her now disheveled hair. She took a step back, her hand reaching around to tease her clit as she inched backward, gasping when you slapped her sodden folds with the length of the toy. She moaned and began to rock her hips towards you as she sought more friction. You smirked, stroking the length attached to your hips as her arousal dripped onto the shaft.

With a swift thrust, you pushed into Natasha, her body jolting at the intrusion. She let out a guttural moan, her back arching as you claimed her before everyone. The sight was intoxicating, Natasha's body stretching to accommodate you as Wanda watched with bated breath. You began to move, a slow rhythm that had Natasha's legs trembling and her eyes rolling back into her head. You reached around her, playing with her clit as you fucked her, her moans echoing through the room, as other partygoers similar sounds of passion echoed throughout Val's living room.

Wanda was now standing beside you, her hand buried in between her thighs as she watched Natasha take your toy like a champ. She leaned in, her breath hot on your neck as she whispered, "Fuck me, please," You felt a jolt of excitement at her words, the desire to see her in action taking hold. You nodded, and the hand you had been using to fondle Natasha's right breast slid over Wanda's drenched folds.

Your fingers slid into her slickness, her juices coating your hand as you began to pump her in sync with the rhythm you had set with Natasha. The two of them were a sight to behold, both moaning and writhing before you. Natasha's eyes found yours in the mirrored wall behind the stage, the reflection showing the intensity of her climb to climax. Wanda's hand had moved to your chest, her nails digging into your skin as she rode the wave of pleasure you had started.

The room had gone quiet, the only sound you could hear now was Natasha's grunts and Wanda's whimpers, the slap of the strap-on against Natasha's ass echoing through the space. You could feel the eyes of the others on you, a mix of envy and arousal that fueled your desire. You picked up the pace, Natasha's moans growing more desperate as she pushed back into you, her hand a blur as she pleasured herself.

Using your other hand, you grabbed Natasha's loose hair, pulling her back so her back was now pressed against your front. You leaned down and whispered sweet nothings into her ear, your teeth grazing the shell of it as you felt her pussy tighten around the strap-on. The crowd was a sea of hungry eyes, the room thick with lust as you brought Natasha to the edge of orgasm. You knew they were all imagining themselves in her place, all craving the feeling of your dominance and the power of the toy that was now buried deep within her.

"You feel so good, baby," you rasped into the redhead's ear, her head lolling backward and resting on your shoulder as you deftly switched your hand from her hair to the front of her neck, squeezing ever so slightly. You honestly felt like you could feel her walls tightening on the shaft of the toy, a sensation that was surprisingly erotic despite the barrier of the strap-on. You watched as Natasha's orgasm grew closer, her body tensing as you whispered sweet, dirty nothings into her ear, your hand tightening on her neck, a silent promise of the crescendo approaching.

Wanda leaned in closer, her breathing ragged as she watched Natasha's face contort in pleasure. "Please," she whispered, "please let me come." You smirked, knowing she was close, her hand moving faster as she chased her release. You released Nat's neck, reaching down with your hand and slapping Natasha's ass hard, the sound resounding through the room, causing her to cry out.

"You both know the rules," you panted out, your tone commanding as they both began to reach thier peak. "You don't come without my permission," you whispered, your grip on Natasha's neck returning as she whimpered around your strap-on. You watched Wanda's movements become more and more erratic, knowing this was a battle of wills she was bound to lose.

As Natasha's body tightened around you, her muscles spasming as she reached climax, you felt the room's energy shift. It was as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for your next move. You pulled out of Natasha with a wet pop, her body slumping forward as you turned to face Wanda, your hand still buried in Natasha's hair.

"Do we want to find out what happens to bad girls who don't follow the rules, malyshka?" You growl at Wanda, knowing she was not far behind the woman who just came without permission. She nodded frantically, her eyes wide with need. You released Natasha, letting her collapse to the floor, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She looked up at you with a mix of relief and regret, knowing a punishment was going to follow.

"Tell me, Wanda," you panted out, trying to catch your breath before you continued. "What do you think her punishment should be?" You didn't wait for Wanda to answer. Instead, you grabbed Natasha by the throat, lifting her to her feet and pushing her to her knees next to the fortune teller. Wanda stepped closer to you, allowing your fingers to slide in deeper as you repeatedly prodded the sensitive spot within her. Your pace picked up, becoming relentless as she withheld her pending orgasm.

"I think..." she began, staring at the sweaty, heaving chest of the woman next to you. "She should watch as you fu...FUCK me," she moaned, her nipples bouncing in front of your face at a tantalizing pace. You smirked, your hand sliding out of her pussy to give her clit a sharp pinch, making her squeal.

"Pretty girls like you don't need to be thinking," you shoved your drenched digits soaked in Wanda's arousal, into Natasha's mouth, forcing her to suck on them as you fucked her mouth with them. "You just need to feel," you murmured, watching Natasha's eyes glaze over with pleasure as she tasted Wanda on you. Wanda's moan grew louder, her hand flying to her own throat, mimicking the grip you had on Natasha's neck, as she felt herself being pushed closer and closer to the edge. "Full. You both just want to be full, don't you? My little sluts."

You turned to Natasha, your hand coming down to her face and slapping it gently, her eyes watering as she nodded eagerly. "Good," you whispered, releasing her throat. "Now, let's get started on that punishment." You turned to Wanda, whose legs were shaking, her eyes begging for release. You stepped back, your cock throbbing with the need to fill one of them. Looking around, you noticed a few pairs of handcuffs resting next to the throne, so you grabbed two of them and quickly handcuffed Natasha's hands to the arm of the throne, leaving her seated next to the chair, unable to pleasure herself.

The crowd was now fully invested, their eyes glued to the three of you as the tension grew. You turned to Wanda, who was still standing before you, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths. "You know what you need to do," you said, your voice still low and commanding. She nodded, standing up and straddling your lap, her hands reaching behind her to rest on your thighs as she teased herself with the tip of the strap, her arousal dripping onto your thighs and the length before you.

"Do you feel that, detka?" she leaned in, whispering against your ear. Your gaze shifted to something inquisitive as you stared at her, a mischievous grin sweeping across her features. "I may or may not have..." she moaned as she took the tip and pressed it against herself, just barely penetrating her pussy before lifting herself back off. The feeling seemed to intensify for you, and you weren't sure if it was the performance you three were putting on or the way these two made you feel.

Wand leaned in, her hands now coming to rest on either side of your face. "I want you to feel us, and we want to feel you," she began, kissing you deeply before pulling back. She released your face, guiding the tip back to her soaked entrance as she eased onto the length. "I enchanted the strap, baby," she moaned as you let out a guttural groan at the feeling and the admission.

"Fuck, Wanda," you began, grasping her hips tightly as you helped her take the full length. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt the pleasure rush over you, the room fading away to nothing but the three of you. Wanda's eyes fluttered shut, her breathing heavy as she began to rock her hips back and forth, the chair creaking with each movement.

You watched as Natasha's eyes grew wider, her breaths becoming pants as she watched the two of you. You reached out with your free hand, stroking her cheek as she leaned in, her mouth open and desperate for your kiss. You denied her, pulling away just as she closed the distance, leaving her panting and desperate for more.

"You want a taste of this?" you taunted, your voice thick with desire. "You'll have to behave," you reminded her, your eyes flicking to hers, a promise of punishment in them. Natasha nodded fervently, her eyes never leaving yours as you began to fuck Wanda in earnest. The strap-on sliding in and out of her, the feeling of Wanda's silky smooth walls clenching around you intoxicating.

You reached down with your free hand, stroking Natasha's wet folds, her eyes rolling back in her head as she moaned at the feeling of your fingers. The crowd had gone wild, their cheers and catcalls egging you on as you brought Wanda closer and closer to the edge. Her nails dug into your shoulders, her breathing shallow as she neared her climax. You could feel her pussy tightening around you, her body begging for release.

"P...please...." Wanda's voice was a breathless whisper as she bobbed up and down on the strap-on. Her body was trembling with need, her orgasm so close it was palpable in the air. You could feel it in the way she clenched around you, in the way her thighs quivered, and in the desperate little sounds she was making. It was driving you crazy, the desire to give in and let her come was almost too much to bear. But you held firm, your hand now on Natasha's throat, keeping her at bay.

"Please..." you mocked Wanda, egging her to beg more. "Please, what?" Her eyes snapped open, and you knew you had her just where you wanted her. "Please, let me come," she begged, her raspy voice barely above a whisper. You could hear the heaviness of her accent slipping through, a dead giveaway that she was beyond ready.

"That's a good girl, Wands. See, Natasha?" you turned your gaze from the panting mess bouncing up and down on your lap to see the blown eyes of the redhead who had shifted so she was on her knees, her knuckles white as she grasped the arm of the chair. She nodded frantically, acknowledging your statement. "This is what happens when you're a good slut," you whispered, watching Natasha's eyes flicker with desire.

Wanda's eyes snapped open, and she looked at Natasha, the two of them sharing a moment of pure, unadulterated hunger. "Come for us," you murmured, your voice thick with the desire that coated the room. And with that, Wanda's body tightened around you, her back arching as she let out a scream that could have shattered glass. You felt the warmth of her orgasm through the toy, and it was all you could do to hold on to Natasha's neck as you watched her ride out the wave of pleasure.

You felt a dripping sensation as you looked down, a devilish grin on your face. Wanda had squirted all over your chest, the makeup now barely present on your chest as the combination of sweat and her arousal had long since worn it off. You looked at Natasha, her eyes glued to the spot between Wanda's legs, watching the show with a hunger that hadn't been there before. You knew that she was desperate to feel that same pleasure, but you weren't quite done with Wanda yet.

You gently lifted Wanda off the length that was nestled between her thighs, a whimper leaving her as the toy left her with a distinctive sloshing. Sliding down off the cushion of the chair, you sat on the ground in front of it, grasping Wanda’s thighs and pulling her towards you. She had no energy to protest, as the sudden shift caused her to lose her balance and brace herself using the arms of the chair as you kissed up to the apex of her thighs. Sliding one hand around to her ass, you cupped one of her cheeks as you pushed her towards your waiting mouth.

Her pussy was a mess of cum and sweat, the scent of her desire intoxicating. You didn't hesitate, burying your face in her folds and licking up the juices that had pooled at her entrance. You heard Natasha whine but ignored her, focusing solely on the trembling form of your other partner. Wanda's legs gave out slightly, but you kept her upright, her back arching as you began to suck and nibble at her clit. The taste of her was divine, and you felt the cock pulse below you.

You reached down, stroking the length with your other hand as you continued to devour Wanda as she hovered above you. The strap-on was slick with her juices, and you couldn't help but revel in the power you had over both of them and moan at the feeling. Natasha watched, her eyes wide with lust as she felt her arousal build once again, unable to touch herself thanks to your earlier punishment.

Wanda's legs began to quiver, her breath coming in gasps as you brought her closer and closer to another peak. The room was a symphony of moans and whispers, the tension palpable as everyone watched the intimate scene unfold before them. You felt Natasha's eyes on you, so you shifted your head so you could look at her while you worked your tongue through her wife's folds. Her eyes were wide with desire, and she was visibly fighting the handcuffs, trying to free herself so she could get some relief.

You chuckled darkly, enjoying the power you had over Natasha's body and the way her chest heaved with frustration. "Do you like watching?" you taunted her, your voice muffled by Wanda's pussy. "You want a taste?" You didn't wait for Natasha to respond before pulling away from Wanda's clit, leaving it pulsing and swollen and her crying out in frustration. You stood up, the strap-on still slick with Wanda's juices, and approached Natasha. She leaned forward, her eyes never leaving yours, as she took the length into her mouth, sucking and licking at her wife's arousal coating the strap.

The crowd watched with rapt attention as Natasha's eyes rolled back in pleasure, her mouth moving with renewed enthusiasm. You smirked, knowing she was desperate to come, her punishment only making her more eager. You reached down, stroking her cheek with the back of your hand as you felt your orgasm building. Wanda's legs were shaking; her eyes glossed over with desire as she watched Natasha service the toy. You pulled the witch up by her chin, kissing her passionately as she kneeled in the seat, her hands resting next to Natasha's. You continued to thrust into Nat's mouth, panting into your kiss with Wanda as the feeling of the spy's tongue against the enchanted toy caused you to quickly approach your climax. You moaned as she pulled away with a pop before fully engorging herself onto the length.

Plunging your other hand back into the soaked depths of Wanda's core, you quickly worked her back up, matching her crescendo as you commanded her to come at the same time as you. You could feel her inner walls clench around your fingers, and Natasha's eyes went wide as she felt the toy throb in her mouth, knowing you were about to climax. With a roar, you came, the force of it pushing Natasha back slightly, the strap-on spurting a stream of sticky cum that hit her in the face. She took it all, her eyes never leaving yours as the warm fluid coated her cheeks and mouth, her tongue eagerly lapping up every drop.

Wanda's knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the throne, her body trembling from the intensity of the shared orgasm. You stepped back, the strap-on still pulsing slightly as Natasha's eyes remained locked on it, her desire unquenched. You reached down, unbuckling the handcuffs, and Natasha's eyes widened in anticipation of what was to come next.

"Now, it's your turn," you murmured, your voice thick with lust as you pulled Natasha up from her knees. She stumbled slightly, her legs weak from the prolonged arousal and the recent punishment. Wanda watched with a mix of satisfaction and hunger, her chest still heaving from the powerful climax you had just given her. You led Natasha to the chair, pushing her down so she sat straddled in front of it, her legs spread wide, displaying her wet pussy to the eager crowd. You pushed her face down, burying it into Wanda's pussy as you slammed into the redhead, a loud, guttural moan escaping you as her tight heat enveloped the strap.

The crowd watched, their eyes glued to the trio, as you fucked Natasha with the same intensity that had brought Wanda to her peak. Natasha's muffled moans were music to your ears, her body squirming with each deep thrust, her tongue still working Wanda's clit. The fortune teller leaned back into the throne, her hands tangled in Natasha's hair as she felt another wave of pleasure crash around her.

"Now, Natasha," you growled, pulling her face away from Wanda's pussy. "You've been a good girl, watching and waiting. But I think it's time you got what you've been begging for." You grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her around so she faced the audience, her back pressed against the chair. With one swift motion, you buried the strap-on into her, making her gasp loudly. The room was alive with lust and arousal, the air thick with the scent of sex as the crowd watched you claim her or they pleased their partners.

Natasha's eyes rolled back in her head, her legs spread wide and her back arching as you began to fuck her in earnest. Her moans grew louder with every thrust, echoing through the room, and you could feel the power of your control over her body as she responded to your every move. Wanda watched, her desire rekindling as she saw Natasha's pleasure. "Good girl," you murmured, your voice a low growl of approval. "Take it all for us."

The crowd was entranced, their eyes locked on the three of you as you moved together in a dance of dominance and submission. You could feel Natasha's muscles tightening around the strap-on, her orgasm approaching like a freight train. You leaned in, biting her ear as you whispered, "Cum for us, Natasha. Show them what a good slut you are."

Her eyes snapped open at your words, and she nodded frantically, her moans growing more desperate. You reached around her, pinching her nipples hard, watching as her back arched away from your chest. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, Natasha's moans growing louder with each thrust. Wanda leaned forward, her hand slipping between Natasha's legs to rub her clit in time with your strokes. The redhead's eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent scream as you both pushed her towards her climax.

The room was alive with the sound of passion; the other partygoers had forgotten their own desires as they watched the three of you, the tension in the air crackling like electricity. You felt Natasha's muscles tighten around the strap-on and knew she was close. You didn't relent, instead pushing deeper, your rhythm never faltering. Wanda's hand moved faster, her other hand gripping Natasha's hip as she helped you drive her closer and closer to the edge.

Natasha's eyes rolled back, her body writhing in ecstasy as she approached climax. The sight was too much for some in the audience, and you could hear the faint sounds of others reaching their peaks as they watched the erotic display unfold before them. You leaned in, your breath hot against Natasha's neck as you whispered, "Cum for me, Natasha. Show them how much you love being my little slut."

Her response was immediate, her body tensing as she screamed out her orgasm. The room seemed to pulse with the force of it, the air thick with the scent of sex and desire. You could feel her pussy spasm around the strap-on, her legs quivering uncontrollably as she rode the wave. You didn't stop, keeping your rhythm steady and deep as Natasha's body convulsed in pleasure, her moans echoing through the room.

Wanda's eyes were glossed over with lust as she watched Natasha's climax, her arousal evident in the way she ground against the chair, her hand moving between her legs in a silent testament to her own need. You withdrew the strap-on from Natasha's trembling body, her eyes glazed over and her mouth open in a silent O of pleasure. You turned to Wanda, the toy still pulsing with Natasha's orgasm, and offered it to her, a silent invitation for her to taste her wife's pleasure.

Wanda took it without hesitation, her eyes never leaving yours as she licked the length clean, savoring the taste of Natasha's release. The sight sent a thrill through you, and you knew the night was far from over. You stepped away from the throne, Natasha's legs quivering as she tried to stand before you. You offered her a hand, pulling her to you, before trapping her lips in a scolding kiss. You could feel the power thrumming between the three of you, a heady mix of desire and dominance that was intoxicating.

"Now, Natasha," you murmured against her lips, "it's time for your punishment." You led her to a nearby table, bending her over the edge. The room was still silent, the tension palpable as the crowd watched, eager to see what would come next. You eased the strap back into her, burying it to the hilt before you leaned forward. "I want you to count for me, baby. If you miss a number, we start over. Got it?"

Natasha nodded, her breathing heavy with anticipation. You began to spank her, each slap echoing through the room. With each slap, you delivered a powerful thrust, nailing her G-spot every time. The sound of your hand connecting with her flesh was a symphony of power and passion, and she counted off the numbers, her voice trembling with every thrust. "One... two... three..." The crowd was spellbound, some whispering to each other, others touching themselves, unable to resist the eroticism of the scene.

Wanda, now standing beside you, watched with a mix of love and hunger. She reached out, caressing Natasha's back, her hand gliding down to her ass to feel the heat rising from the spanking. Her desire was evident in the way she bit her bottom lip, her eyes never leaving the spot where your bodies connected. You felt her hand sneak around Natasha's body, her fingers sliding into Natasha's wetness, joining the strap-on in a delicious dance of dominance and desire.

The combined feeling of Natasha's walls clenching around the toy and Wanda's fingers sliding in to join was almost too much for you to bear. You picked up the pace, your hand coming down harder and faster with each number she called out. The crowd watched, their eyes glued to the three of you as the scene grew more intense. You could feel Natasha's body beginning to shake, her voice growing weaker as the pleasure mounted.

"Eigh...nine..." she gasped, her voice breaking on the last number. You stopped abruptly, pulling the strap-on out of her making her whimper. "What was that, Natasha?" you asked, your voice a mix of mock anger and amusement. "Did you forget your place?" She nodded, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes glazed over with desire. You knew she was begging for more, and you were more than happy to oblige.

With a smirk, you leaned down, whispering into her ear, "You know what happens when you're a naughty slut, don't you?" She moaned in response, pushing her ass back against the cold, hard table. You stepped back, admiring the view of her reddened skin and the way her legs trembled with anticipation. You gestured to Wanda, who stepped closer, a wicked glint in her eyes.

The crowd was enamored by the show you three were putting on, captivated by your dynamic. Their eyes were either glued to the three of you, their whispers a backdrop to Natasha's counting, or they were creating thier symphony of moans, screams, and skin slapping as they chased thier highs. You could feel the anticipation in the air, the thrill of watching something so intimate and raw. Wanda's hand joined yours, both of you spanking Natasha in unison, her moans growing louder with each smack. "Ten... eleven..." she gasped, her voice strained.

With each number, your strokes grew more intense, and Wanda's fingers curled inside Natasha's pussy, feeling the wetness that was yours alone to give her. You watched Natasha's body tense, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the table. The power in the room shifted, your dominance over Natasha clear as day, and Wanda's submission to your will just as palpable. Her hand in yours, the two of you punished Natasha's ass in a rhythmic dance of pain and pleasure that had the entire room on the edge of their seats.

Natasha's legs began to shake uncontrollably as you delivered blow after blow, as her wife continued to stretch her walls. "Come for us, Nat," you growled, leaning forward so your breath tickled the shell of her ear. "Come like the good little slut you are."

With a final scream, Natasha's orgasm crashed over her, her body collapsing onto the table as Wanda's fingers slid out, and you slid the strap back into her, helping Nat to ride out her orgasm. You could feel her pussy tighten around the strap-on, her muscles pulsing as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her. You didn't miss a beat, pulling Natasha upright, the strap-on still deep within her. She leaned heavily against you, panting and spent, her eyes half-closed with pleasure.

Wanda stepped in front of Natasha, her hand reaching for the toy that was still buried deep inside her. You watched as she began to grind against it, her eyes locking onto Natasha's as she whispered, "Look how good you're taking Y/N, Nat." Natasha's eyes widened, and she nodded, her breathing ragged as she watched her wife's face contort with pleasure. You could feel Natasha's pussy clench around the strap-on with every movement Wanda made, and you knew she was just moments away from another orgasm. You reached around, pinching the redhead's nipples, tweaking them as you pulled her towards you.

"Wait for me, Nat. Don't cum until I say," Wanda's voice growled as she watched, her eyes dark with lust. Natasha nodded, her body a taut bowstring of desire, her eyes pleading for release.

Your thrusts began to grow more erratic, the pleasure building in your core. You could feel Natasha's need, her body begging for more, but you held off, savoring the moment, the power of the scene.

Wanda leaned in, her breath hot on Natasha's neck as she whispered, "Tell us when you're close." Natasha's eyes squeezed shut, her voice barely above a whimper, "Now. Oh god, now." You smirked, giving a final, deep thrust before pulling the strap-on out, leaving her pussy gaping and wet. The audience watched, their breaths bated as Wanda took Natasha's place, straddling the chair with an eager look in her eyes. You didn't waste a moment, sliding the toy back into her, watching as her eyes rolled back in pleasure.

Natasha's hands found their way to her chest, pinching and twisting her nipples in time with your movements, her moans joining the chorus of the room. The sight was more than you could handle, and with a roar, you came, the strap-on spurting a thick load of cum into Wanda's pussy. She moaned her climax building, her body trembling as the warmth coated her skin. You didn't stop, your hips moving in a relentless rhythm as Natasha's hand slipped between her wife's legs, circling her clit as she stumbled over the edge again.

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, the room vibrating with the energy of the moment. You stepped away from the chair, the strap-on still pulsing as you watched Natasha collapse into Wanda's arms. The two of them kissed, sharing the taste of victory and desire, Natasha's cum mixing with Wanda's arousal. You felt a thrill run through you, watching them together, knowing you were the one who had brought them to this point.

Carefully, you slipped the strap off your hips, the enchanted phallus still twitching from the intensity of the shared release. Natasha and Wanda clung to each other, their kisses deep and hungry, fueled by the aftermath of their public display of submission and dominance. The warm stickiness between Wanda's thighs was a testament to your power, a visual symbol of the pleasure you had wielded so masterfully. You felt a thrill of pride as Natasha looked over at you, her eyes glowing with a mix of love and admiration. You stepped closer, reaching out to cup Wanda's cheek, bringing her attention to you as well. The three of you shared a moment of silent understanding, the power dynamics pulsing between you like an invisible force.

Valkyrie herself approached, her eyes gleaming with a mix of awe and desire. She leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear. "That was quite a performance," she purred. "I never knew you had it in you."

"Back off, Val," you warned your voice a low growl that sent a shiver down Natasha's spine as she clung to Wanda. Wanda's eyes snapped up to meet yours, a hint of jealousy in them, but she quickly softened under your hardened gaze, remembering her place. You turned to the crowd, your chest heaving with exertion, the strap-on still in your hand, dripping with Natasha's cum. "Val, it's never wise to covet what's not yours," you said, a smug smile playing on your lips as you stepped closer to Natasha, who was still trying to catch her breath.

The room went quiet again, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You knew everyone was watching, waiting for what would happen next. You reached out, stroking Natasha's cheek with the back of your hand, smearing a line of cum across it. "Let me call the driver, let's get home," you murmured, the softness of your voice a stark contrast to the raw power you had just displayed. You collected the costumes, giving Wanda and Natasha a moment to recover. The crowd parted as you led the way, the air thick with the scent of sex and the electricity of unspoken desires.

"Let us go home and get cleaned up," you start. Natasha and Wanda let out a contented sigh. They nodded in unison, their faces flushed with pleasure and a hint of exhaustion from the intense experience. You wrapped thier coats around them, leading the way out of the party, the sound of the crowd's applause and whispers following you as you exit the grand ballroom.

The cool night air hit your skin, a stark contrast to the heated atmosphere you just left behind. The thrill of the performance was still with you, the power dynamics resonating in your very core. "Thank you," Wanda murmured, her voice barely audible as she leaned into you, her hand finding yours. Natasha walked on your other side, her arm wrapped around your waist, her eyes on the ground, the picture of submissive satisfaction.

As you approached the limo, the driver held the door open, his eyes averted respectfully. You slid into the plush interior, Natasha settling onto your lap, her legs spread wide, inviting Wanda to straddle you both. The door clicked shut, and the car glided into the night, leaving the party and its prying eyes behind. "So," you began, your voice a purr of satisfaction. "What shall we do next?"

[nodoubtily]

riki pool smut? he's too hott for that.... btw just saw your post for ideas

IM SO SORRY THIS CAME SO LATE I HAVE LITERALLY BEEN SO UNMOTIVATED ❤️😭

TW:// sex in the pool DURRRR? SMUT so MDNI. Niki is vegan in this story, but he’s not CRAZY about it (it’s for the sake of the plot, so they can stay back and fuck, y’know?), really long, orgasming inside, unprotected sex (Wrap before you tap) hair pulling, really bad ending. Lmk if I missed anything else. OH and cursing.

Jay is also involved, playing as Reader’s brother.

Perm taglist (ask if you wanna join) - @jyikeu @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby

It’s gonna be a hot ass day. That’s for sure.

So thankfully, the Airbnb your friends, your brother, yourself, and boyfriend are staying at a place that has a pool. If you’re not all out and about, you’re all in the pool, playing every game you guys can think of.

It’s current the third day of your friend-cation, as you all call it. It’s midway through morning and you’re in the kitchen, planning your meals for the day with Jay, your brother.

“We’re going out for dinner tonight.” He tells you, pointing to the blank spot for lunch today. You nod, scribbling ‘out for dinner’ on the blank space. He nods, and he pats your shoulder, before walking to the main space, throwing himself next to all your friends. You turn to the fridge, seeing if you had the ingredients for the brunch when you feel two hands snake around your waist, pressing their front to you, him shoving his face in the crook of your neck.

“Hey baby..” Niki sighs contently, his arms caging around you tighter.

“Good morning, sunshine.” You giggle when you hear him sigh in a dramatic way.

“What are we doing today?” He asks you quietly, still tired, and you point to the list of what you’re eating and the other list of the plans today. His eyes follow your hand and he goes over, pulling you with him. You quickly close the fridge door, not being able to escape the clutch of a 6-foot-you don’t know guy.

You stand in front, him leaning over your shoulder as his hands rest on either side on the counter. He reads over the lists, and he nods. His hand grabs yours, and he leads you to where everyone else is.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Your best friend, Alice, nods to Niki, who raises his eyebrows in a greeting way.

“Morning.” He sighs, holding his arms up, bringing your hand he’s holding up with his as he stretches. You quickly stand on your tippy toes, am reaching up comfortably. Jay snorts at the sight, and you clear your throat. Niki looks at you, then your hand, his eyes widen slightly. “Oh shi-“

“I don’t want to go, baby..” Niki sulks, arms crossed as he sits on the edge of the bed, watching you pick both yours and his outfit for dinner. “Can we just stay here?” He asks for the millionth time.

You sigh for the millionth time. “For the last time. We’re booked for 6, we can’t just decide not to go. Plus, all of us are going.”

“Who said we can’t decide? We’re our own person.”

“My brother. He wants us both to go.” You retort. He scoffs.

“And since when has his word ever stopped us?” His voice drops, and he stands up, striding to you in a few long steps, until you physically feel him breathing down your neck.

“What do you mean?” Your knees shake, and standing on your two feet is more difficult then before.

“He said you’re off limits. We fucked in the backseat of my car,” Niki’s hands rake down your back, before gliding them across your waist, resting them on your hips, grasping at your skin in need. “He said we couldn’t date, but we got together three nights after he said that. He said to be quiet when we’re together. You can’t shut your pretty little mouth.” Niki’s words form a horde of butterflies in your stomach, and you feel yourself becoming wetter.

But you’re still sane. “No, we have to go.” You push through your thick wall of desperation, barely making it as you hand him a small, tight black dress for yourself and a cotton black button up for himself. He groans in frustration.

“Please baby. I don’t even feel that well.” He says.

“But you feel well enough to have sex with me?” You can’t hide the snort that exits your mouth.

“What can I say- you’re pussy is so good. So tight for me.”

“Shut the-“

“I don’t know what to wear. And I can’t trust you to pick a good outfit.” He’s grasping at straws.

“Then why are you letting me?” You retort. He groans again.

“I don’t even like the food we’re getting..” his voice is low, a mumble, meaning he didn’t want you to hear it. But you do, and that’s when you stop in your tracks. Fuck. He’s vegan. And won’t eat meat if he can miss it. And to be honest, you’re still full from brunch and the snacks you’ve been eating throughout the day. You’re not really hungry either. You sigh. He’s won without even knowing it.

You turn to him, making your way. You take the dress and shirt you gave to him from his hands and place them back in the closet.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, curious.

“I forgot you’re vegan.” You say, turning to him. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot.”

“It’s okay. You’ve been busy cooking for majority of the day.”

“Yeah, cooking meat you didn’t fucking touch.” You hold his hands, generating all your love into that simple gesture. “I’m sorry, baby. Forgive me?” You ask. Niki acts as if in deep thought. Then, his eyes click, turning mischievous.

“Maybe…if we stay back.” You roll your eyes. “Please, baby.”

“You’re not going to stop with this, are you?” You ask.

“Face it. You don’t want to go either.” You hate that he’s right.

“Fine! Fine, we’ll stay back. You’re telling Jay though.”

“Easy enough.” Niki shrugs.

“Absolutely not.” Jay deadpans. Niki’s jaw drops.

“Wha—!” Niki groans. “Hyung! Why can’t we?” He asks, confused.

“Oh, cause I want to leave you alone to fuck my sister? No. Nope. Not happening.”

“Why do you think we’re going to fuck. You always think that.” Niki pushes.

“Because. You always fuck.”

“No we do not!” Niki is appalled.

“Not happening, little bro.” Jay pats Niki’s shoulder, before you stop him in his tracks. You holds your phone up to his face, and he reads a message your mother sent.

Mama: Park Jongseong, you are to let your sister and Niki stay home if they want. No one stopped you when you wanted to stay back with your exes, so you have no right to stop Y/N. If she tells me that you continue to do so, do not doubt me for a second. I will drag you by the ear back home. Have fun, and don’t do anything your father would do.

Jay scoffs. “Favouritism. At the finest. Do not deny.” He points at you.

“I’m not. I know I’m the favourite.” You shrug, grabbing Niki‘a hand, leading them out of Jay’s room.

“The water looks really good.” You say, you hand scratching at the other hand. Niki places your towels on the lawn chair closest to the pool.

“Then get in.” Niki shrugs as he finally gets ready himself. He slides his shirt off, throwing it where the towels are.

“It also looks really cold.” You whine out lightly. You hear Niki chuckle behind you, and you leave it, thinking nothing of it.

That is, until he picks you up, holding you, bridal style.

“Niki! Put me down!” You yell, though your arms protectively wrap around his neck, pressing yourself against him in fear of dropping.

“Nah.” He then runs to the edge, jumping into the deep end. Cold water engulfs you, spreading throughout everywhere when you break the call surface of the pool. Your body leaves his quickly, swimming to the surface, where air fills your lungs once more. Niki soon follows, sighing in relief. You hear nothing but the water moving, remembering all the other house inmates are gone out for the night. You push yourself into a swimming position, freestyling your way across to the shallow end, when you stand comfortably.

You’re chilling, until you don’t see Niki, and you call out. Then, with no warning, hands wrap around your legs, hoisting you in the air. He submerges from the water, lifting you with him.

“Niki!” You shrieked, half panicked, but also midway through giggles. “Put me down!”

“Okay.” The sneaky glint in his eyes gave away, and you get thrown back into the water. He comes straight to you, wrapping his arms against you again, strong arms snaking along your waist, holding you up, causing you to tower over him. He presses himself against you, cuddling you as you relax in his hold.

“The water feels lovely.” You say, staring up at the sky that’s darkening from a golden glow to a deep shade of blue, nearing to nighttime.

Niki hums in agreement, his mind elsewhere.

“You okay, baby?” You swipe your hands along his short strands, and he opens his eyes, which were closed as he rested his head against your half-covered breasts.

You wrap your legs around his waist comfortably, and that’s when you feel it.

“Niki-“ your voice cuts off as he begins moving, sitting on the step that runs across the whole pool, fashioned for a seat. You straddle him, your legs resting rigid against his hips. “You’re always hard-“ a moan cuts through your speech when his hands palm your ass cheeks, grinding you against him softly.

“Can you blame me when you’re my girlfriend?” He asks you, his voice soft and low and his eyes pierce through your soul. You find it hard to concentrate on whatever he had just said, as your clit comes directly into contact with his knob, a ridge that causes extra pressure, and your hips move against their own record against that ridge, causing more pleasure for both you and Niki. He quivers, before lowly cursing under his breath.

“Can I fuck you?” He becomes more desperate the longer you grind against him like that. “Baby, please, i need to be inside of you.” And you realise that you can’t find yourself to say no.

That’s how you find yourself bent over the edge of the pool, knees pressed against the step as Niki shuffled closer, his tip teasing your folds. You wiggle your hips, earning a slap to your ass cheek.

“Patience, Baby. We didn’t prep you.” His voice sings through your ears.

“I can take it. Please, Niki baby, just please fuck me- oh—!” You moan out when he slams into you, bottoming out quickly. Your pussy is pulsating, working to accommodate Niki’s cock. His tip already leaking with precum, neither of you waste much time before he begins to move, his hips finding a suitable pace, disturbing the water.

His left hand wraps your hair around it, pulling it while the other palms the concrete, finding stance. “Oh fuck- baby, squeezing me so well.” He groans, feeling your walls clenching around his thick unit. “Going to make me cum so quick.”

The water splashes between him in you, as it moves to make way for Niki’s relentless thrusts as he constantly bottoms out every time, reaching backwards enough to almost pull out just to bottom out once more, driving you crazy to the brink of your orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You announce, your voice shaking as you struggle to stay upright. Niki realises, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing your back against him as his thrusts become shallow, brushing against your G-Spot, bringing you so fucking close. Then, without warning, explosions convulse through your cunt. Your thighs clench and shake, and you’re internally for Niki, who’s holding you upright.

Sooner than later, his climax rolled around, and he presses his hips right against your ass, his cock reaching into the deep depths of your pussy, his warm liquid heating you up as it seeps inside. He continuously chants while his orgasm rides out, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck.”

Panting, he pulls out quickly to prevent max overstimulation. He then falls backwards into the water, cock still out and proud as you quickly pull your bikini bottoms up. Filling him, you do the same, holding hands with him under the water.

I SUCK AT ENDINGS

[errriiie]

Hookup Culture

shaunahat x fem!reader minors DNI, all characters are 18 y.o

TW: smut, poly relationships, shauna shipman, one-night-stand culture (just might be not for everyone), OOC extra tags: NO CRASH AU, dom!switch!shauna, switch!melissa, switch!you, fem!reader, y/n mentions, porn with so-little-plot, sharing is caring, dirty talk, no aftercare but reader can handle it, oral (r!receiving), fingering (melissa! receiving), angst in the end if you squint, jackie stop haunting the narrative

word count: 3.5k proofread At the urging of your friend Lottie, you finally give in and show up to Randy's party. You think it's your destiny to be single for the evening and part of the night while you kill your time and social battery, but your desire to hang out around the house leads you to Shauna and Melissa, who were clearly busy with each other. Correction. Now they're busy with you, too.

The bass from the speakers downstairs rattles the floorboards as you weave through the packed house, red Solo cup in hand. The air smells like cheap beer, sweat, and the faint chemical burn of someone’s vape cloud. You weren’t even supposed to be here—you only came because Lottie dragged you, insisting you needed to "live a little" before graduation.

You don’t really do parties. Not like this. Not the kind where the Yellowjackets’ inner circle holds court in the living room, where Jackie Taylor’s laugh cuts through the noise like she’s still the queen of everything. You’re just… there. A background player. A benchwarmer who shows up to practice, nods at the right people, and mostly keeps to yourself.

But Melissa? Melissa’s different.

You’ve swapped a few words with her in the locker room, shared a smirk over Jackie’s dramatics once or twice. She’s got this way of looking at you like she knows things—like she’s waiting for you to catch up.

So when you see her slip upstairs alone, curiosity gets the better of you. She wasn't exactly a big deal on the team either, but at least Melissa seemed like a nice girl to you. Considering you didn't have much going for you other than your tenuous friendship with Lottie, you figured you couldn't pass up this slippery opportunity to build your social connections and maybe—maybe—really live a little.

The hallway is quieter, the music muffled. The door to Randy’s parents’ room is slightly ajar. Then you hear it. A soft gasp. A low, breathy laugh. You push it open without thinking.

 The door clicks open under your hand, and—

Oh.

The room is dim, just the glow of a salt lamp on the dresser casting warm light over the bed. Shauna’s on top of Melissa, one knee between her thighs, fingers tangled in her hair. Melissa’s shirt is pushed up, Shauna’s mouth on her collarbone, and neither of them heard the door.

Melissa sees you first.

Her head tilts, lips curling into a slow, unbothered smile. "Well, hey there."

Shauna freezes.

She turns, eyes wide, breath catching. Her lips are swollen, her cheeks flushed. For a second, she looks like she might bolt—but Melissa’s hand slides up her thigh, keeping her in place.

Shauna whips around so fast she nearly falls off the bed. Her face goes pale, then red, then pale again. "Oh my God—"

Melissa just laughs, dragging her back down by the collar of her shirt. "Relax, Shauna. It’s not like she’s gonna tell Jackie."

Her eyes flick to you.

"Right?"

You freeze in place, but your hand still feebly fumbles for the doorknob, just to close it. The click seems so loud in the awkward silence that you can't help but close your eyes. Besides, maybe closing your eyes will help you unsee it all. Unfortunately or fortunately (you haven't decided yet), it doesn't help.

Melissa is putting you in a really dangerous position, there's literally no reason for you to be here. You've never been close to Shauna because she always kept to herself with Jackie Taylor and didn't seem to need other people to talk to or be friends with, and you've already thought about Melissa enough.

You had a million reasons to leave: you didn't belong in this room or this house, you didn't like the loud party and the bunch of drunken teenage idiots wasting their lives on pointless parties, the way you were left almost alone, and to top it off, you didn't even know if Shauna wanted you here.

So you ask.

"I...are you serious? I mean, I won't tell anyone. Of course not," it sounds like the truth, because it is. You weren't really sure about Jackie's involvement in all of this. Was there a point where she wasn't chasing the narrative? "But..." you bite your lip shyly, like the kind of girl who needs help opening up. Shauna hasn’t moved. She’s still half-pressed against Melissa, her fingers gripping the bedsheets like she’s deciding whether to bolt or stay. Her eyes dart between you and the door, wide and uncertain, and for the first time, you realize how young she looks. Not the quiet, composed Shauna from practice, but someone caught between panic and something raw.

Melissa, on the other hand, looks amused. She props herself up on her elbows, letting her shirt fall and hide that tempting view of bare skin, her smirk lazy and deliberate. "‘But’ what?" she drawls, tilting her head. "You gonna stand there all night, or are you actually gonna say what you’re thinking?"

You swallow hard. The scent of vanilla and sweat lingers in your nose, mixing with the faint musk of Randy’s parents’ detergent. The bed creaks as Shauna shifts, her breath hitching when Melissa’s hand slides up her thigh again—possessive. "I just..." Your voice wavers. "I don’t know why I’m here." It’s the closest you’ll get to admitting the truth: that you followed Melissa because you’ve watched her for months, because you’ve imagined her looking at you like this, because you’re terrified of what it means that she’s letting you see this.

Shauna exhales sharply, like she’s been holding her breath. "You shouldn’t be," she mutters, but there’s no real heat in it.

"She’s already seen us. Might as well make it worth her while."

Your stomach twists. The implication hangs in the air, heavy and undeniable. 

Shauna’s jaw clenches. "Melissa—"

"What?" Melissa’s grin sharpens. "You don’t wanna share?"

The words hit you like a physical touch. Your face burns, your pulse thudding in your ears. This isn’t how you pictured your first time—if you ever pictured it—but the way Melissa’s looking at you, like she’s already won, makes something hot and reckless coil in your gut.

Shauna’s eyes flick to you again, searching. Then, slowly, she exhales. "...Just lock the door."

"Well, that's all settled." You can almost feel the relief in Melissa's voice. It might have been a little nerve wracking for her to remain cool and collected. "Come here." She beckons.

You obey immediately as your hand wraps around the lock, making sure you're in privacy. You take a few steps forward, but you're at the bed faster than you planned, looking so confused.

"What should I... what should I do?" It's so awkward.

Melissa’s smirk falters for just a second—just long enough for you to catch the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.  "You’re overthinking it," she says, but her voice isn’t as steady as before. She reaches out, fingers brushing your wrist, and tugs you closer. The bed dips under your weight as you settle beside them, close enough to feel the heat radiating off Shauna’s skin.

Shauna exhales sharply, her gaze flicking between you and Melissa. There’s something new in her expression—something hungry.

"You don’t have to do anything," she murmurs, her voice low. "Just let us take care of you."

Her hand finds your thigh, fingers pressing in just enough to make your breath catch.

Melissa watches, lips parted, and for the first time, she looks nervous.

"Yeah," she says, softer now. "Just... relax."

You don’t.

Instead, you lean in and kiss her.

Melissa makes a startled noise, but she doesn’t pull away. Shauna’s grip tightens on your thigh, and when you finally break apart, her eyes are dark. It's not easy watching literally two girls kissing beneath her, whose names she'd been quietly mumbling while masturbating in her room, and holding herself back from joining in too soon.

"Good," she breathes. "Now me."

Melissa’s breath hitches when you turn to Shauna, your fingers tangling in the fabric of her shirt to pull her closer. The kiss is different this time—slower, more deliberate, like Shauna’s testing the waters, seeing how far you’ll let her take this. Her lips are warm, her tongue brushing against yours in a way that makes your stomach twist.

"That’s it," she murmurs against your mouth, her hand sliding up your side. "Just like that."

Melissa watches, her earlier bravado slipping as she bites her lip. "Fuck," she breathes, shifting closer, her knee pressing against your thigh.

Shauna pulls back just enough to smirk at her. "Jealous?"

Melissa rolls her eyes, but the flush creeping up her neck gives her away. "Shut up."

Shauna laughs—low, throaty—before turning back to you. "Guess we’ll have to fix that."

Her fingers trace your jaw, tilting your face toward Melissa. "Go on," she says, voice rough. "Show her how it’s done."

Melissa’s breath is warm against your lips as you lean in again, this time with more confidence. Her hands find your waist, pulling you flush against her, and the way she melts into the kiss betrays how much she’s been wanting this. There’s a soft, needy sound in the back of her throat when you nip at her lower lip, and Shauna’s fingers tighten possessively on your hip.

"Look at you," Shauna murmurs, her voice thick with approval. Her other hand slides up Melissa’s thigh, unbuttoning Melissa's jeans with unnecessary force and pulling them down to her knees, and Melissa shivers. "Both of you— so pretty like this."

You can feel the shift in the air—the moment Melissa’s control cracks. Her fingers dig into your sides as Shauna’s touch grows bolder, and when you break the kiss to trail your mouth along her jaw, she lets out a shaky exhale. "God—okay, yeah, that’s—"

Shauna cuts her off with a sharp bite to her shoulder, and Melissa’s back arches off the bed. "Quit talking," Shauna orders, her voice dropping into something darker. Her eyes lock onto yours, and there’s no mistaking the challenge in them. "Unless you’d rather watch?" You suppress a smirk and the feeling of wetness pooling between your legs. You thought Melissa was in charge here, but apparently she's in charge until Shauna decides she needs to end this.

Melissa whines, but it’s half-hearted, her hips already rolling up into Shauna’s touch. You don’t give her the chance to answer.

Your hand slides between them, fingers brushing over the damp fabric of Melissa’s panties, and her whole body jerks. "Fuck—"

A sharp gasp escapes Melissa’s lips as your fingers press against her, the thin fabric of her panties doing little to hide how wet she is. Her hips jerk forward, seeking more contact, and you can feel the heat radiating from her even through the fabric.

Shauna watches with dark, hungry eyes, her fingers tightening in your hair as she pulls you closer. “That’s it,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear. “Make her feel good.”

Melissa’s hands scramble for purchase on the sheets, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as you tease her through the fabric. “Fuck—just—just take them off already,” she whines, her voice trembling with need.

Shauna chuckles, low and dark, her fingers tracing patterns along your spine. “You heard her,” she says, her voice thick with amusement. “Don’t keep her waiting.”

Your fingers hook into the waistband of Melissa’s panties, pulling them down just enough to expose her to the cool air of the room. She shivers, her thighs tensing as you finally, finally touch her properly, your fingers sliding through her slick folds.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, her back arching off the bed as you circle her clit, slow and teasing. “Fuck, yes, just like that—”

Shauna’s hand tightens in your hair, her lips brushing against your neck. “Good girl,” she murmurs, her voice rough with approval. “Now make her come.”

You nod your head quickly. For some reason, you don't really want to disappoint Shauna. You see her eyes, which you can't read, and for some reason, more than anything, you're afraid that she'll regret ever allowing Melissa the liberty of voicing that your presence wouldn't hurt them.

You speed up the movements of your fingers, feeling and lingering on the spot that amplifies Melissa's body twitching a hundredfold, her wiggling under Shauna's body and next to you, the moans and sighs coming from her throat. You're a man of few words (for various reasons), but you have the courage to say, "Cum for us, Melissa." It sounds like a gentle request, in contrast to Shauna now. Melissa’s breath hitches at your words, her hips stuttering against your hand. There’s something almost vulnerable in the way she looks at you—like she wasn’t expecting the softness in your voice, like it unravels her more than any command ever could.

Shauna notices.

Her grip on your hair tightens, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Look at her," she murmurs, voice rough. "She’s falling apart just because you asked nicely."

Melissa whines, her thighs trembling as you curl your fingers inside her, your thumb pressing firm circles against her clit. "Shut—ah—shut up," she gasps, but there’s no bite to it, just raw, unfiltered want.

Shauna laughs low, her free hand sliding down to pinch Melissa’s nipple through her bra. "Make me."

Melissa’s back arches off the bed, a broken moan tearing from her throat as her orgasm crashes over her. Her fingers scramble for your wrist, holding you there as she rides it out, her body pulsing around your fingers.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is Melissa’s ragged breathing.

Then Shauna’s pulling you back by your hair, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s all teeth and hunger. "Fuck," she breathes against your mouth. "You’re good at that."

Melissa lets out a weak laugh, still sprawled bonelessly across the bed. "No shit," she mumbles, dragging a hand over her face.

Shauna’s gaze flicks down to where your fingers are still slick with Melissa, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Now," she says, voice dropping to a whisper, "what do you want?"

Melissa props herself up on her elbows, her smirk lazy but her eyes interested. "Yeah," she echoes, voice still breathless. "What do you want?"

It seems like it really is your turn. But... you don't even know what you want. "I don't know," you say, perhaps feeling a little more emboldened and comfortable with the situation, "I'm a virgin. Any ideas?" Oh, it sounds like they're trying to decide on a topic for a school project. Stupid and awkward. Shauna freezes.

For a second, the room is utterly still—the only sound is the muffled bass of the party downstairs, the distant laughter of people who have no idea what’s happening up here. Then Melissa lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh, propping herself up on her elbows. "Wait. Seriously?"

You nod, your face burning. It’s not like you meant to drop that bombshell so casually, but now that it’s out there, you can’t take it back. Shauna’s grip on your hair loosens, her fingers instead tracing a slow, thoughtful path down the back of your neck.

"Huh," she says, voice unreadable.

Melissa’s smirk returns, but it’s softer now—less teasing, more curious. "Well, shit," she murmurs, sitting up fully. "Guess we’ve got some options, then."

Shauna exhales sharply, her thumb brushing over your pulse point. You can feel her thinking, weighing something in her mind. When she speaks again, her voice is lower, rougher. "You trust us?"

The question catches you off guard. You’ve never been close to either of them, not really—but right now, with Shauna’s dark eyes locked onto yours and Melissa’s fingers idly tracing patterns on your knee, it’s hard to imagine saying no.

"Yeah," you admit. "I do."

Shauna’s lips quirk, just slightly. "Good."

Melissa leans in, her breath warm against your ear. "Then let’s start simple," she murmurs. "How about you let Shauna kiss you again—properly this time—while I show you what my mouth can do?"

Your stomach flips. Shauna doesn’t wait for you to respond. She captures your lips in a kiss that’s slower than before, deeper, her tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes your toes curl. Meanwhile, Melissa’s hands are already pushing your thighs apart, her nails dragging lightly over your skin as she settles between them.

"Relax," Shauna murmurs against your mouth, her fingers tightening in your hair. "Just feel it."

Then Melissa’s tongue drags over you, slow and deliberate, and your back arches off the bed with a gasp.

"Fuck—"

Melissa hums, the vibration sending a jolt straight to your core. "Yeah," she says, pulling back just enough to smirk up at you. "That’s the idea."

It’s too much—the heat of Melissa’s mouth, the way Shauna’s thumb brushes over your cheek like you’re something precious, the dizzying realization that this is happening, that they’re choosing this, choosing you—

You whimper, your fingers tangling in the sheets.

Melissa’s tongue flicks over your clit, once, twice, and then she’s sucking lightly, her fingers pressing inside you in a slow, steady rhythm. Shauna’s kiss turns bruising, her teeth nipping at your lower lip as if to say, "I’ve got you."

You come with a choked-off moan, your thighs trembling around Melissa’s head.

Shauna pulls back just enough to watch you, her eyes dark with something you can’t name. "There you go," she murmurs, her voice impossibly soft. "Just like that."

Melissa sits up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her smirk smug but her eyes warm. "Not bad for your first time, huh?"

You’re too breathless to answer.

Shauna’s thumb brushes over your bottom lip, her gaze flicking between you and Melissa. "Still don’t know what you want?" she asks, her voice teasing.

You swallow hard.

"I think," you manage, "I’m starting to figure it out."

Melissa laughs, low and throaty, as she wipes her chin with the back of her hand. "Oh, you think?" She leans in, her breath warm against your ear. "Because from where I'm sitting, you looked pretty damn sure a second ago."

Shauna's fingers trail down your side, possessive yet strangely gentle. "We can stop here if you want," she murmurs, though the way her teeth graze your shoulder betrays how much she doesn't want to stop. "Or..." Her hand slips between your thighs again, fingertips brushing over oversensitive skin.

You jolt, a whimper catching in your throat. Melissa's watching with heavy-lidded eyes, her own fingers toying with the hem of Shauna's shirt.

"Or," Melissa continues where Shauna left off, "we could see how many times we can make you come before someone downstairs wonders where we went."

The challenge in her voice makes your stomach flip. Shauna's fingers press harder, circling in a way that has your hips jerking forward before you can stop yourself.

"Guess that answers that," Shauna says, her smirk audible. The bed creaks as Melissa moves closer, her knee nudging yours apart wider. ————

When you finish, there's no time for aftercare. The three of you frantically adjust your clothes, comb your hair in the mirror, and try to pretend nothing happened.

"Still..." you suddenly ask, deciding that you look pretty good, except for the huge hickey on your neck, but in the dim light of the house it won't be noticeable, "What's the story with Jackie?" oh, your nosy ass. The air in the room goes stiff. Shauna’s hands freeze mid-motion where she’s fixing the collar of her shirt, her expression shuttering instantly. Melissa, halfway through smoothing down her jeans, lets out a sharp exhale through her nose—not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh.

"Jesus," Melissa mutters, shooting you a look that’s half-amused, half are you fucking serious right now?

Shauna’s jaw works silently for a second before she finally speaks, her voice carefully neutral. "What about her?"

You can feel it—the way the energy in the room shifts from sated and lazy to something sharper, more volatile. Shauna’s fingers tap once, twice against her thigh, a nervous habit she’s never been able to fully hide. Melissa, ever the deflector, rolls her eyes and fluffs her hair in the mirror.

"Look," she says, her tone light but edged with warning, "Jackie’s Jackie. She doesn’t need to know shit."

Shauna’s gaze flicks to the door, like she’s half-expecting Jackie to burst in any second. "It’s not—it’s not a thing," she says, but the way her voice cracks on the last word betrays her. "We’re just... having fun."

Melissa snorts. "Yeah. Fun." She meets your eyes in the mirror, her smirk not quite reaching them. "Don’t worry about it. Shauna’s got it handled."

The way she says it makes it clear that handled is a generous term.

You open your mouth—to push, to apologize, you’re not even sure—but Shauna cuts you off with a sharp shake of her head.

"Drop it," she says, and for the first time tonight, there’s no warmth in her voice. Just quiet, simmering dread. "Please."

Melissa sighs, straightening her top with a final tug. "Party’s still going. We should get back before people notice we’re gone." She pauses, then adds, quieter, "And maybe don’t stare at Jackie like you just fucked her best friend. Just a tip."

Shauna shoots her a glare, but there’s no real heat behind it. Just exhaustion.

The hallway feels too bright after the dim warmth of the bedroom, the music suddenly too loud. You follow them downstairs, your mind racing.

Jackie’s in the living room, holding court as usual, her laugh ringing out over the crowd. She doesn’t look your way.

Shauna’s shoulders tense as she steps into the light, her smile slipping into place like a mask. Melissa tosses her hair and saunters toward the kitchen like nothing’s wrong.

You hover awkwardly in the doorway, the hickey on your neck burning.

Yeah, you think, maybe don’t stare.

[babiebom]

Heyyy! I was wondering if u could do the bachelors & bachelorettes reactin to / dating an s/o who has really intense nose bleeds when they're stressed. But plot twist bc this is literally the norm for the farmer bc they have crippling anxiety, especially social.

Thank u sm!!

A/N: I don’t know why I thought this was funny??? My anxiety just makes my stomach upset but a nosebleed in front of everyone like some sort of anxious demon is funny. Not the clean up tho. I’ve never had a nosebleed but I know they bleed SO MUCH. Also no problemo!!! Always glad to get requests!! I did different things (so not just stressed because I would’ve written the same thing for anyone I made crush aspects as sort of for stress too lmao) for each hopefully they’re good enough!

Tw: cursing, blood, anxiety, the nose bleeds are VERY dramatic because it’s fiction lmao. Physical fights(in Leah’s part), arguments(in almost all of them). Pierre hate Pam hate(kinda) Demetrius hate Morris hate. And Kel is gender neutral! let me know if there’s anything else to tag!

Wc: idk lmao hopefully at least 100 words for each

Stardew Masterlist

Sebastian:

Just frowns

Actually helps unexpectedly

….we can never talk about this happening again if you want……

It’s not often that you get to see the towns resident emo, even after visiting Robin multiple times for various building needs. So when you wander into the house, looking for Robin so you can upgrade your coop, seeing him makes your brain malfunction.

“Oh…hey farmer.” He greets, moving past you to head further into the house. You blink for a second before returning the greeting, watching as his dark hoodie disappears behind a wall.

You try to force your breathing to slow down. There is absolutely NO reason you should be this worked up over a literal one second conversation. While you sit with your thoughts, foot steps fill your ears and the sight of Sebastian returning from wherever he went makes all of your progress regress. “So…you here waiting for my mom?”

You nod quickly, clearing your throat, “yeah…um…just need to upgrade my chicken coop.”

“Oh well, she’s not in today. She usually goes to Pierre’s store to work out with the other moms.”

You frown to yourself, how did you miss that she wouldn’t be in today? Damn now all you can think about is how you just made a fool of yourself. Lost in your thoughts, you miss that Sebastian had cleared his throat a couple times until he waves a hand in front of your face.

“If you want, I can take your order and tell her when she gets home later. That way she can get started tomorrow.”

“Would you?” Your heart flips as you perk up. Was he usually this nice? You kinda heard from Robin herself that Sebastian never really interacted with people he wasn’t already friends with.

“Yeah sure.” He shrugs and moves to go around the counter, setting his slowly cooling food down. “Okay so she usually charges 10,000g and you have to have 400 logs of wood and 150 things of stone. Sound right?”

You nod and hand over the bag of money. The second your hands touch it’s like your body decided it couldn’t handle anything else from him. Luckily he just takes the money and pretends like your nose hasn’t become a geyser as you scramble to try to keep the blood from dripping all over their furniture.

Sam:

WOAH DUDE IS THAT LIKE….NORMAL?

it’s like from a movie or something

Is overall sorta scared but at the same time thinks it’s cool

“And this is how I do a kick flip!” Sam shows you skateboard trick after trick and honestly you can’t get enough of it. It wasn’t a secret that the both of you had crushes on each other, and even now it was very obvious by how you were watching him do his tricks that you had feelings for him. Yet still you two weren’t in a relationship, just sort of friends who like each other in a romantic sort of way.

“You’re so cool!” You clap as he lands another trick.

“And you’re cute!”

“What?”

You freeze in your spot and watch in confusion as he sort of freezes midway through his next trick and crashes to the ground. His words echo in your head, making your face heat up and your heart soar. He smacks his face on the ground, sending you into a panic because now all you can think about is how he thinks you’re cute, and now how he probably has a concussion from hitting his face directly onto the concrete.

When he lifts his face off the ground, you’re kneeling next to him, trying to check on him. His forehead is bleeding, his nose is bleeding, and so is his mouth. You shriek and try to go through your backpack to see if you have anything to help him. You didn’t.

You already know where this is leading, and you let out a groan of annoyance right before your nose starts leaking just like his. His eyes widen and he lets out a loud laugh. Maybe you two can move out of the weird friendship you have after all.

Shane:

Would just stare silently

Like no comments no nothing

Doesn’t even act like it’s happening

Having a part time job at Joja Mart during the winter is one of the absolute worst ideas that you’ve had in a while. But you didn’t make a lot during your first year of farming. Stacking the products onto the shelves, your only saving Grace is the fact that you’re allowed to have earphones in. Except for the fact that Pam is now standing next to you asking loudly about where something is. Shane is stacking the shelves behind you.

“I don’t know Pam…the alcohol is probably on the wall in the back.” You frown at her. She obviously knows that you don’t know this store that well, you were a FARMER that NEVER shopped here before. She rasps out another question and it takes everything in you to not snap at her. Trying to calm yourself of course there’s gonna be something else that makes you lose your mind. That something is Morris, coming over and being the absolute WORST and in turn making Pam LOUDER and more insistent.

He’s lecturing you, Pam is agreeing with him way too loudly, the music on your headphones is now overwhelming instead of calming, and the sound of random things in the market is making you want to bite a chunk out of the loaves of bread in front of you, plastic and all. With everything building up inside of you, you already know what’s going to happen. It always happens, but instead of excusing yourself you stand there, staring Morris down as the blood begins to flow from your nostrils.

Pam yells out curses and Morris begins to stutter, but behind them Shane just stares for a second before continuing to work. When you’re finally left alone with him in the aisle as your two stressors hastily take their leave, all he does is let out a dry chuckle.

“Sam has a hell of a mess to clean up…”

Alex:

Oh DUDE your nose is like….LEAKING

Doesn’t help

Just watched and comments

“AND THEN HE HAS THE NERVE TO TELL PEOPLE THAT MY HARVESTS ARE HIS BUT HE ONLY DOES IT IF ITS GOOD!” You rant to the brown haired boy, pacing back and forth in his room. Thankfully both Evelyn and George were out so you weren’t bothering anyone except for the man in front of you.

You huff and puff as he watches, slightly amused slightly concerned. Alex wasn’t the best person to go to when you’re upset unless it was something absolutely devastating. So being in front of him now, complains about your farming woes meant that he was only half ass taking it seriously. “You should go and speak your mind.” He says.

Turns out you should NOT take advice from Alex. Standing in Pierre’s shop, you’re staring him down angrily, anxiety creeping up your throat from you trying to will yourself to call him out on his bullshit. The older man just kind of stares at you in confusion because all you had done was shout his name angrily as you entered the shop then stand in front of him seething.

“You….you…..” you point a finger at him. This was the moment, the moment you stand up for yourself and tell Pierre how HORRIBLE he is!

But of course things don’t work how you want and your nose gushes out blood all over the counter before you can work yourself up to the point of accusations. With a gasp you run out of the shop, hoping that he would keep his mouth shut with Alex running behind you laughing. Again, NEVER let Alex talk you into anything.

Elliott:

Panics

How do I help PLS LET ME HELP

Everything probably gets messy

Fishing had never been your favorite pastime, but now trying to fix up the community center you had to. Unfortunately Willy was gone and couldn’t properly teach you even though he had gifted you an old rod of his, so the next best thing is getting your boyfriend to teach you since he does fish often. Now you stand on the docks, waiting for a fish to bite the hook.

“Keep calm, the fish can feel your fear and it makes them upset.” Elliott spoke. In all honesty you didn’t even know if that was true or not, but you take in a breath to calm down. You did not want to be here all day you had cows to pet.

The second your line begins to pull you try to pull the fish in. And you succeed until it comes time to unhook the eel you managed to catch. The eel is slimy and slippery and all around not a good thing to try to grip. A shriek leaves your lips and the eel struggles, Elliott tries to help you but is also struggling to catch hold of it. And now your nose is bleeding adding another layer to the already hellish experience.

You’re unhappy, the eel is unhappy, and Elliott is unhappy. After what seems like an hour, the stupid thing slips out of your grips and back into the ocean, washing your nose blood off of it and splashing you with saltwater. 0 out of 10 you will not be trying again.

Harvey:

Calm but concerned(after panicking for a second)

Has a doctory approach to it

But is secretly like WTF inside

Your heart thumps in your chest as you sit on the clinic bed. It’s been a while since you’ve been in Harvey’s clinic, having taken a break from the mines, and somehow this seems more shameful than having been beaten almost to death by living slime. Your hands bleed into the cloth you have pressed into it. One of the pigs knocked you over into the broken fence you were in the middle of fixing. Now you sit waiting for the good looking Doctor.

When he walks in he’s all smiles, tapping his clipboard with his pen. “While I’m sad to see that you’re injured, I’m glad to see it isn’t from those mines again.” The eye contact he makes with you makes your heart twist for a second.

He starts speaking of all the shots you need and the antibiotics you need to take, rust poisoning is quite serious you know. “Now,” he says, moving towards you, “let me see your hand.”

Your heart thumps erratically at the close proximity of him and you. You only really ever got to see him this close when you were half dead and barely conscious. His face is much too close for you to be able to do anything but focus on how pretty his eyes are, and how fluffy his mustache is, and how…

“OH MY DEAR YOBA” He yelps and jumps away from you. It takes only a second after him to realize what’s going on, and now your furiously wiping away at your nose with your hands instead of with the cloth, and he’s trying to get something on your nose to catch the blood. It’s a disaster, really. But at least you’re already in a clinic!

Penny:

Probably panics

Doesn’t know how to deal with it

Would try to help though

The warmth of the pool in the spa did nothing to ease your nerves as you waded in the shallow end of the pool. Penny had invited you to come sometime after 7 pm, and when you had arrived she was already waiting for you, kicking her feet in the pool. The thought of her asking you here made your stomach turn, did you do something wrong…? Was she inviting you here to tell you she hated you or something…? You had grown close to her over your time here and would hate it if she thought you were too much or something.

“Do you know why I invited you here?” She asks, moving closer but keeping her eyes on the water.

You shake your head, “I’m not exactly sure, no.”

She frowns and sighs at you, meeting your eyes for a fleeting second then looking elsewhere. “Really? I thought you would’ve noticed by now…” her words trail off and her eyebrows furrow.

The next few seconds are ones that you simultaneously want to remember for forever and forget. She confesses her feelings for you. Feelings that you obviously reciprocate, and the emotions in you mix and grow, rising up your throat as if you were a volcano of conflicting feelings. As soon as you open your mouth to tell her that yes, you like her too, her face morphs into one that’s horrified instead of hopeful, disgusted instead of smitten and you realize a second after she does that your nose is spouting red, dyeing the water you both were swimming in.

Penny shrieks for a solid second before trying to scramble out of the water as fast as she can. You do the same, swirling the red around the pool as both of you splash trying to exit the now crime scene looking pool. When you get out of the water, she’s holding a towel right in your face, smooshing it so hard you can barely breathe and now your nose is throbbing with slight pain. “What do we do?!” She asks moving about quickly. She’s so confused that she just keeps walking and turning as if she’s remembering and forgetting things at the same time.

You just tilt your head downward and cringe inwardly, this was not the way to get a girl to like you. “It’s fine…I’m fine,” you say voice nasally and muffled. “And I like you too by the way.”

Haley:

confused staring

wtf is happening

Actually speechless

It isn’t every day that you get to talk to a beautiful blonde. It isn’t even every day that you talk to anyone. So when she approaches you on one of your trips off of your farm you couldn’t help but feel like either everything is out to get you or that you’re up on your luck. You don’t really know for sure, it honestly depends on how things go.

“Hey farmer!” She smiles as soon as she stops in front of you, the feeling of your stomach twisting makes you want to vomit in all of your nervousness. “I have a favor to ask you…”

“Yeah?” You ask trying to keep your cool. “What is it?”

“I would totally love love LOVE you forever if you could bring me an amethyst? It’s for Emily’s birthday and I don’t really like Clint so I don’t wanna buy anything from him. I’m willing to pay 150g!”

You cough into your fist, nodding along and taken aback by how casually she’s speaking to you. Before you can accept doing her the favor, the horrified look on your face makes your words falter.

She looks absolutely horrified, and touching your hand to your face you can feel why. Your nose started dripping blood, and by dripping you mean you can now feel it running down to your chin. A flurry of curses leave your mouth as confused noises leave hers. It's not much of a surprise that this has happened, but man did you wish it wasn't in front of her.

Emily:

Surprisingly chill about it

Probably has a weird story about a nosebleed or something

Actually helps

You sit at the bar alone, upset at a horrible farming day. You tried your best, you really did, but those stupid ass crows actually ate ALL of your seedlings. Or…almost all of them but that’s basically the same thing! There is no way you’re gonna make enough to make it through winter comfortably. You told Emily exactly this, appreciative of her listening ear in the middle of her busy shift.

“You know they probably didn’t mean it…or maybe they did,” she sucks in a breath eyebrows furrowing as she thinks, “you know crows are very smart they probably know that you’re using that land to farm and stay there because of all the free food.”

“But it’s not free!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up in annoyance, “I have to buy those seeds! They’re just putting me into debt!”

She hums and nods, wiping the bar next to you where a person had just left. You had only a couple months left until the snow started falling and making it virtually impossible to grow anything. The little plants you had left you had to fight the crows for. And by fight I mean you angrily swung a broom at the with the intent of scaring them (not hitting them that’s mean). Still the growing anger inside you was not easily crushed by her warm and quite frankly outlandish words. No, in fact your anger grew the more you thought about it.

You felt it coming before anything had even exited your nose, hurriedly snatching the rag from Emily’s hands. Damn now you would have to buy the bar a new one. She just blinks then nods as if your nose becoming a bloody waterfall was normal.

“You know…nose bleeds cause by stress is usually because your heart rate and blood pressure increase and it causes your blood vessels to dilate!”

You stare at her before laughing. Maybe she was helpful after all.

Abigail:

WOAH

WTF

WHAT DO WE DO?

You stand in front of Pierre in front of the shop, arms crossed as you watch his face grow redder the longer time goes on. “-IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH MY DAUGHTER?” You’re not really listening to his tirade, over the whole ‘protective dad’ thing.

“Dad I’m an adult! You have no say in who I date!” Abigail yells back, face equally red. Who would’ve known that he would have a problem with the farmer he rips off constantly dating his daughter?

He yells out more reasons that the two of you shouldn’t be dating, and in turn points a finger into your chest roughly. You sputter out an offended sound, moving away from him. “Don’t touch me!”

“You shouldn’t be touching my daughter!”

“What? Dude we just started dating, you’re weird as hell!”

The arguing only gets worse from there, accusations flying around and now an audience comes with the drama. It’s almost too much for you to handle with now Caroline, Harvey, Haley, and the Milner family standing and watching the chaos. “Abby let’s just go to my place…” you try suddenly feeling the need to escape and no longer feeling the ‘fuck you dude’ attitude.

“No! He needs to understand that he can’t control my life!”

It’s like a volcano in your body and just like a volcano your nose begins to erupt. Now you’re screaming, Abigail is screaming, Pierre is screaming, the Mullners are screaming. Could this get any worse?

Turns out yeah, it can get any worse, like a family fight worse and now all of you are sitting in Harvey’s clinic. At least you aren’t the only bloody one now.

Maru:

Is surprised

Also forgets what to do

Would probably make things worse

Maru talks about robots and space the way you would talk about her: totally and completely enamored. You sit on her bed listening to her talk about her newest invention, some sort of robot that can cook and clean and basically be a free maid. You laugh and move your arm to get in a more comfortable position to watch her. Unfortunately your arm had other plans and smacked hard into her bed post. Groaning out in pain, your eyes close and begin to water from how much your elbow hurt.

Demetrius is in your face before you even realize that he was in the room. You yelp out in surprise as he starts ranting about you ruining his daughter’s future. You blink in surprise and try to retreat back into the mattress. What was happening. You can hear Maru screaming over his words but your ears feel like they’re filled with water.

“We’re just friends!” You find yourself shouting. Like damn is the man insane? It wasn’t the first time he’s gotten upset at you over Maru, but it was the first time that he was absolutely losing his mind.

“Dad stop!”

Time froze for a second as you and Demetrius stared at each other, Maru standing near him. Breathing in you can taste blood in your mouth before your nose starts bleeding, yet you can’t bring yourself to do anything but sit and catch your breath.

“Oh my god!” Both Demetrius and Maru exclaim moving around the room trying to find something to help. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed at him acting concerned now.

Thankfully Maru looked cute trying to help you which at least made things a little better.

Leah:

Is also freaking out on the inside but calm on the outside

Helps you with tissues

Is understanding

Going on a date with Leah is a dream come true. There’s paint, wine, food, and you’re sitting in the prettiest meadow you’ve ever seen, well it’s pretty because Leah is there and she’s pretty and you’ve been here multiple times because it’s near her cottage but it still looks different today.

You sit, paintbrush in hand, laughing at something she’s saying. It’s fun and if she hadn’t have asked you would’ve spent the day farming like usual, this little break was needed. The day couldn’t be ruined, absolutely nothing can ruin it.

Okay, one thing can ruin it and that one thing is Kel coming and ruining everything. The argument that ensues is one of the worst that you’ve seen. Kel tries to walk up on you(translation: Kel wants to fight you), Leah stops them but in turn gets into a fight with them which causes you to actually get up and try to defend her.

You kinda black out until you can hear Kel call out “I made your nose bleed bitch!” Which again causes you to want to drown in your anger.

“My noses is bleeding because I’m stressed, stupid!” You yell back. It’s obvious Kel hadn’t been able to hit your nose so claiming to be able to hit you so hard your nose bleeds isn’t even possible. It’s almost childish how the two of you argue.

Leah finally gets Kel to leave and hands you a bunch of tissues as she sits you down on the now rumpled blanket. As the two of you catch your breath and calm down, you find yourself smiling at her behind the wad of tissues catching blood flowing from your nose.

At least the situation would be funny in the future.

[hotvintagepoll]

Trying to get more into old movies because of this blog (I only know about half of these people and feel like a poser) do you have good recommendations on where to start or is it just a situation where you watch stuff and find what you like as you go?

you are not a poser <3 i myself am just here for the hotties.

here is my quick and dirty list of fun films to start with if you're new to old movies. and of course if you like one of these, do try to find more stuff as you go! there's no bad way to try out old movies.

(this list is not official and is SUPER quick. i'm tagging for content warnings where I can, but if I forgot something let me know.)

"I want to watch something SILLY!"

The Court Jester (Danny Kaye, Angela Lansbury, Glynis Johns, Basil Rathbone)—everyone in this movie is hot. everyone is in fancy medieval dress, which makes them hotter. everyone here is very silly. You can stream this on Hoopla, last time i checked, so you might be able to stream it through your library!

Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang (Dick Van Dyke, Sally Ann Howes, Lionel Jeffries, Gert Frobe)—some people hate this movie and to them I say What Is Wrong With You. dick van dyke is a hot absent minded inventor who lives in a windmill with his two adorable children, his gorgeous sheepdog, and a grandfather who is categorically useless. it feels like the two films mary poppins (1964) and willy wonka (1971) had a baby and that baby was born on roller skates singing an old broadway showtune. this one has been showing up in some odd places lately—I think you can catch it on Tubi or Hoopla? It's definitely around.

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (Jane Powell, Julie Newmar, Howard Keel, Russ Tamblyn)—my problematic fave. everytime i watch this i change my mind whether it's a sexist pile of garbage or a feminist paean, and fellas, today we're on the feminist paean bandwagon!! jane powell's millie is truly the star of the movie, she is the hero she drives the plot the narrative is on her side, and besides all that there are seven very hot men dancing next to her and six beautiful ladies making me bisexual. (on Tubi last I checked.)

The Duke Is Tops (Lena Horne, Laurence Criner)—I get a huge kick out of watching Laurence Criner and Ralph Cooper swindle everybody while also trying to put on a show; there's just something silly and sincere here, plus you get a ~musical extravaganza~ at the end when all is right as rain again. Free on YouTube I think?

"I want to watch something DRAMATIC that may make me FEEL SOMETHING."

Witness for the Prosecution (Marlene Dietrich, Tyrone Power, Elsa Lanchester)—I love a campy twisty turny mystery, don't you? :) I'm not going to talk about this one much because it's better to go in blind, but if you like Agatha Christie stories you'll probably like this.

To Be Or Not To Be (Carole Lombard, Jack Benny)—always relevant, always makes me laugh, also makes me cry. this takes place in poland during wwii so big tw for nazi imagery and mentions. (don't worry. this movie fucking hates nazis.)

Seven Samurai (Toshiro Mifune)—this one is Great Cinema™™™™™™™™™™™ for a goddamned reason

"I want to watch some stuff with the scrungles in it!"

Mr. Washington Goes to Town (Mantan Moreland)—I've been checking out more of Mantan Moreland's stuff because every time I see him in something I think he's delightful, and I really enjoyed this silly-spooky comedy. Does this story have a brain cell? No. Are the special effects and goofy slapstick fun? Yes. This is a fun example of an all-Black cast in a film that was made for Black audiences, and is a striking counterpoint to the stereotypical representation Black actors were given in white-targeted films, showing the enormous amount of talent and artistry the racist studios missed out on by excluding these actors. This is not A Great Film™ but it's still A Fun Time,™ with a goofy Laurel and Hardy type vibe. (It's free on Youtube.)

The Red Shoes (Robert Helpmann, Leonide Massine, Marius Goring)—hey kid, you wanna watch something fucked up? This movie is so fucked up. It's about ballet, it's about art, it's about technicolor, it's about dance and toxic relationships and making theatre and nightmares and ambition and death. A lot of these recs tend on the silly side (because I tend on the silly side) but this one is actually Serious Film and will definitely help you chat up Martin Scorsese should you ever meet him. Big content warning if you can't handle dark themes right now—this movie's pretty dark, not in the gore way but in the Haunting Creepy Image way. (it's also free on Tubi and Kanopy most of the time.)

The Invisible Man (Claude Rains)—my favorite of the vintage horror flicks and a great introduction to Most Dunked On Hot Vintage Man of All Time, Claude Rains. (it helps that you barely ever see him!) Very very silly but the special effects are just plain fun. (I think this is on Internet Archive in full?)

"Can I just get more hot people please?"

Flower Drum Song (James Shigeta, Nancy Kwan, Miyoshi Umeki, Jack Soo)—there are so many unbelievably hot people in this movie which is somehow very good (thanks to its cast) and also incredibly, horrifically bad (thanks to its white team of writers, directors, and producers). on the one hand, it's a mostly Asian cast in a big budget, beautifully designed MGM style musical! there's dream sequences, lots of fun dancing, crooning Rogers & Hammerstein cabaret moments, and just charm galore. it is also freighted with so. many orientalist assumptions and stereotypes, absolutely ridiculous shit that the writers ABSOLUTELY should have known better about in the 60s and nonetheless carried into this. this is a hard one to recommend because I loved this cast, and I loved seeing them in a context beyond the usual stereotypical bit parts so many of them frequently were limited to—yet the movie itself perpetuates so many stereotypes on its own it can be a hard one to watch, and I totally understand if it does not work for most people. tl;dr watch for Shigeta, Kwan, Umeki, and the others, but content warnings galore for one (really bad) case of yellowface casting, orientalist tropes, extremely stereotypical character types, etc. (On Tubi/Kanopy last I checked.)

Charade (Cary Grant, Audrey Hepburn, James Coburn)—this movie feels like a Hitchcock movie except I had a ton of fun watching it, which I can't always say for a Hitch film. (I told you my taste was bad.) This one is free on YouTube and thank god because Audrey wears a lot of Givenchy, Cary Grant wears spectacles and keeps almost dying, it's very exciting and thrilling and funny and sexy. I don't think there are any content warnings but it's been a minute since I watched it. (I should go watch it right now.)

The Big Sleep (Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall)—they're so hot askjdljhjghladkghjksahkhgslkahgshskjhgsalhgsahgjh. i like this one a lot :)

[this is NOT A FULL LIST of all the hot vintage movies to start with but it might give you some starting places! i banged this out as quick as I could at 2 am, so apologies that it's sloppy and not perfect.]

[goldberrg]

surely "bestfriends"

summary : You and Billy have been best friends for a while, but when he comes over unexpectedly.

TW's – cursing, sex (in details)

The end of your pencil tapped against the edge of your desk, the side of your head resting on your hand. Your leg bounced to the same rhythm as your pencil, while you listened to your teacher finish up telling you guys about a project. You were all reading "Pride and Prejudice", or at least had read it, and now needed to do the final project for it. You were aloud to work in groups of up to four, but you knew you'd only be working with one person – your best friend, Billy Hargrove.

Billy's step-mom, Susan, and your own mother were close friends. They worked together, and when you had been invited over for dinner the first week they moved to Hawkins, you and Billy had clicked. The two of you spent most of the night in his room, flipping through his vinyl's and helping him hang up his posters. You couldn't help but mock him about the clichè Playboy posters he had, and all the random crap in his room. But the two of you hit it off, becoming close friends quick.

And now he was your partner for every english assignment, art project, and science project. Those were the three classes you shared together. The first time you tried pairing up with someone other than him, a girl named Cheryl, he didn't speak to you for three whole days. Even when he drove you to and from school, he blared his music so loud your ears rang for hours afterwards.

Only after the project was over, and you showed up at his door with two tickets to see a movie.

Once your teacher had finished giving out her information and instructions, the class dispersed to get with their groups or partners. You leaned your head back, already finding Billy getting up from his seat behind you. He tossed his backpack onto the now-vacant desk beside yours, slamming his body into the chair with a grunt. This was your cue to get up and go get the poster board you would need for the project. You returned with a plain, white board compared to the other varying colors of purple, green, blue and red.

— Get your gross feet off the desk. — you ordered, glaring down at Billy since your hands were preoccupied. Billy rolled his eyes, but complied and removed his feet, the legs of the chair falling back onto the floor.

— Alright, doll, what's the plan? — Billy questioned, reaching into your backpack and pulling out your personal copy of the book. You'd already read the book various times throughout middle school and early high school, so you and Billy switched off borrowing your book.

— I figured I'd paint the board, sort of like a collage. Have different things on it. — you explained, looking down at him from the other side of the desk.

— Sounds good to me. We have two weeks, right? — he asked, quirking an eyebrow up at you.

— Yup, so if you don't finish the book by then, I'll kick your fucking ass. — you hissed, watching as he paused his skimming through the book.

— What?

— There weren't any lions in the book, jerk. You have two days to finish it. You're three fourths done, because that's how much we've read together, so you can finish a hundred pages by Thursday. — you sighed, rolling your eyes.

You walked over and sat in your own chair.

— Yeah, yeah, alright Your Highness. — he grumbled, closing the book and tossing it on top of the poster. — What else? We're doing the whole 'main characters, theme, plot, climax' stuff, right?

— Of course that's the only word you'd remember. — you grinned, shoving his shoulder as he laughed. — The dramatic structure, yes. And all the other stuff. We'll split it up. — you said, putting the book away. — You're coming over after dropping Max off, right? — you asked, standing up.

— Yeah. Most likely around 4:00. — he said, standing up as well when the bell rang and slinging his bag over his shoulder. — Let's go, doll.

Once Billy dropped you off at home, you laid the poster board on your bed and your backpack by your desk. You decided to shower and change into comfy clothes before Billy came over, after all you had about an hour. So you grabbed a pair of skull pajama pants and a big shirt, before heading into the bathroom. You turned the water on high, stripping off your clothes from the day, leaving you in your underwear. Grabbing your moms essential rose oil, you dropped a couple drops into the shower before leaving it slightly unopened on the rack next to the shower. The smell would help relieve the tension of the day, and get you focused for schoolwork. Finally, you took off your bra and underwear, stepping in.

The hot water hit you in the face, and you welcomed it. Scrubbing your face, you made sure to get your mascara and concealer off so that when you got out you wouldn't look horrifying. You let the water travel to your hair, smoothing it down your shoulders. Steam filled up the bathroom, the smell of rose invading your senses.

The roaring of the water was so loud that you didn't hear your front door open or Billy shouting for you name.

Billy pulled up to your driveway, hopping out of his car and heading up to the front door. Max had been dropped off at Mike's, not Dustin's, so it was a lot closer than he thought. He decided not to stop at home afterwards, and just head straight to your place. So he got there around 3:20, rather than 4:00. Not that big of a deal.

Banging on the door, Billy waited a minute or two for you to answer. When you didn't, he tried again, but louder. After the third time, Billy just barged in, rolling his eyes at the fact it was unlocked.

— Hey! Y/N? — he called out, hearing the shower running. Kicking his shoes off by the door, Billy tossed his jacket onto the back of your couch. He didn't hear a response from you, so he headed towards the bathroom. Knocking on the door with his knuckles, he leaned against the frame.

— Come in! — Billy's eyes shot open, looking at the closed door in shock.

As you were putting shampoo into your hair, you heard a knock on the bathroom door. You looked over at it through the glass doors, thinking of who it could be. Your mom wouldn't be home until later, and an intruder wouldn't fucking knock. So you probably lost track of time, and it was Billy.

— Come in. — you called out, not minding if he did or not. The glass walls were textured and opaque so he wouldn't be able to see anything porn-worthy.

And the two of you had paraded around in front of each other with your underwear on before, it wasn't much different. There was a pause before the door creaked open, and the outline of Billy came in.

— Sorry I'm early, doll. — he said, his voice darker than normal. — It didn't take as long to drop Max off. And I figured I'd stop by right after to get a head start on the project, maybe hang out for a while. I didn't realize you'd be naked.

— It's fine. — you laughed, opening the door slightly so you could poke your head out. He was sitting on the sink counter, shirtless. Every other girl in Hawkins was wet for Billy Hargrove, how could they not be? And of course you fell into that category. But you couldn't express it like they could, even though you were closer to him than they were. A few times a week, you'd find your hand sneaking down your underwear, his name leaving your mouth as you writhed against your sheets.

— Don't take too long, alright? — Billy pleaded, when he looked up and saw you looking out of the shower. His cheeks were red, but you passed it off as the hot steam. — Why the hell does it smell like roses in here? There aren't any flowers. — he questioned suddenly, lifting his nose in the air and diverting his eyes away from your wet neck.

— It's my momma's rose oil. I use it to relax. — you said, a 'duh' tone to your voice as you closed the door. — And I'll take however damn long as I please.

— Course you will. — Billy grumbled, and you smirked to yourself. You washed away the shampoo as Billy fired off more questions. — Why do you need rose oil to relax? Doesn't that burning water help?

— Not entirely. It helps my muscles from being hunched over all day, and the steam helps with my nose. But the rose oil adds the extra flare. It's rejuvenating.

— Rejuvenating? The hell's that supposed to mean? — Billy ridiculed, hopping off the counter and moving closer to the door so he could hear you better over the shower.

— It's like... I don't know Billy! — you huffed, opening the door suddenly and popping your head out. You were startled when you came face-to-face with him, noticing the way his eyes darted down to your nearly exposed chest and back up. — It helps with headaches, my skin if I apply it directly onto it, and the smell is just nice. Don't you think? It's just fucking relaxing. Unlike you right now. It's amplified in the shower, so I apologize if you're not getting the full treatment. — you snapped, getting frustrated. Having Billy so close in an intimate setting was rough, especially when you couldn't touch. It was like a goddamn museum, you can look, drool and adore. But if you touch, you're getting arrested.

— I'm getting the full treatment just fine, baby. — Billy snickered, leaning closer to you as his eyes dragged up and down your hidden form. Your face heated up, and you shot your hand out, shoving his face back.

— Pff, yeah right, Hargrove. — you scoffed, closing the door and diving under the water. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to mellow it out by focusing on your conditioner.

— You still with that Caden guy? — Billy suddenly asked, his voice now on the other side of the doors, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

— No, I broke it off two weeks ago. Remember? He couldn't decide if he wanted me or Jenny more, even though he was fucking her the whole time.?— you laughed dryly, running the conditioner through your hair as you shook your head at the memory.

— Good. — Billy muttered, but you still caught it. — You could do so much better than him.

— Yeah? — you laughed, shaking your hair to even out the conditioner. — Like who, you?

— Exactly like me. — you stopped, and turned to the end of the doors. There was an audible zipping sound, causing your heart to speed up.

— That so? And what makes you think that, Billy? — you called out, biting your lip and turning to face the water again, washing out the conditioner, in hopes of calming yourself. Your heart hammered against your chest when you heard the shower doors open, as if it was about to leap out of your throat. You didn't turn around however, opting to close your eyes as the water hit your face.

— Cause. — he replied simply, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Your eyes shot open as rough hands gripped at your hips, spinning you around. Your arms collided with Billy's chest, your head tilting up to look at him. His blond hair was beginning to stick to his face, and his blue eyes stuck out more than ever against the tiles. You weren't given anymore time to admire him, because his lips were on yours instantly. Both of you were swallowing water, your lips pushing against each other desperately. Billy walked the two of you backwards carefully, making sure you didn't slip, until your back hit the wall. You were now out of the harsh spray of the water, and you broke away to gasp for clear air.

— Are you.. — you attempted to ask, not wanting him to regret this, and have the friendship ruined.

— Yes, yes I'm sure, Y/N. — Billy said, not giving you the chance to finish. His hand reached up, pushing your wet, dark hair out of your face before leaning back down to capture you in another demanding kiss. Your fingers tangled in his damp curls, tugging slightly when his hands gripped your waist tightly.

Billy moved his hands under your thighs and crouched, indicating you to jump, and you did. Your legs tightened around his waist for dear life, knowing that if either of you gave out it'd end in a naked hospital trip.

— Fuck. — you moaned out, breaking the kiss as his cock rubbed against your pussy, tilting your head back. Billy ducked his head, attaching his mouth to the center of your throat, biting the thin flesh before sucking it. You whimpered, moving your body up and down the slick wall slightly, giving the both of you more friction. His nails dug into your ass, pinning you to the wall so you couldn't move.

— Don't do that, princess. — he warned lowly, vibrating against your throat. You could feel the occasional pulse of his cock against you, and you wanted nothing more than for it to be in you. Whether it was your mouth or pussy, you didn't care. You just wanted it.

— Billy, please. — you whined, after having waited patiently for him to finishing sucking on your neck.

— What do you want, baby. — he growled, pulling back to look up at you. You didn't answer him, instead you held onto his shoulders tightly so you could unwrap your legs without death. Once your feet were safely on the ground, you flipped the two of you, so his back was against the wall and your back was facing the water. Giving him a smirk, you kissed the corner of his mouth before getting on your knees. Billy's tongue darted out, licking along his lips while looking down at you, his hand running through your wet hair. Grabbing his dick in your hand, you pulled at it a few times, twisting your hand along the base. Leaning down, you gave the tip a few kitten licks, gathering the pre-cum onto your tongue. Looking up at Billy, you waited until his eyes fluttered closed before taking the beginning of his dick into your mouth.

— Ugh, Y/N. — Billy grunted, his hold on your hair tightening. You smiled internally, licking the underside of his cock, and then left to right in order to ease your mouth farther down. It took a few minutes, but soon enough the tip had gone past your tonsils. Your eyes were watering, and saliva was dribbling out of the edges of your mouth. Billy's hips bucked against your mouth, his tight grip on your hair giving you a steady rhythm. Continuous moans streamed out of his mouth, and eventually you were roughly pulled off of his dick.

— Not yet, baby. — he said, more so to himself than you. You understood what he meant, and grinned in satisfaction. Putting his finger under your chin, Billy guided you to stand up. Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Billy pulled you in for a slower, more passionate kiss. Your hands rested on his chest, relishing in the warmth of the water and his body. His free hand traveled down the small of your back, tickling you as he went, before gropping your ass.

— Billy.. — you gasped, your voice breathless. You grinded yourself against him again, growing impatient. You looked into his eyes, chewing on your bottom lip to keep in your needy whines. Billy simply smirked down at you, fully aware of what it was you wanted – no, needed.

— Hmm? — he hummed, a wicked grin on his face. You let out an impatient huff, ducking your head to harshly bite at his shoulder. Billy hissed out, the hold on your ass tightening before it released. You thought he was just gonna move you two, but instead he brought his hand down in a harsh slap.

— Ah, Fuck. — you cried out in shock, arching your back.

— Don't bite. — he warned, and then he finally pushed your body against the wall on the side, the cool tile instantly calming down your burning ass cheek.

— Then fuck me already, you jerk. — you snapped, running your thumb over the bite mark on his shoulder. Billy's eyebrow rose at your bold statement, and you simply grinned up at him. His fingers ran down your stomach, tracing at your curves and marks of imperfections. He kept eye contact with you as his middle and ring finger dipped between your folds, slowly dragging from your entrance to your clit. Your body jumped at finally being touched, a sigh leaving your mouth. His thumb rolled around your nub, your hips jerking occasionally, while his middle finger worked it's way inside you. A small grunt sounded in your throat, and you held onto Billy's shoulder, leaning your head against the wall. Once his middle finger was in to the knuckle, he pushed in his ring finger and began pumping them in and out of you, curling them.

— Ugh. — you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulder. Billy started kissing his way around your jaw, neck and chest, occasionally licking your nipple for fun. He added his forefinger after a minute, another moan escaping. You bit your lip, hard, holding in another whimper.

— Why are you being so quiet, princess? It's just us. — he mused, biting at your earlobe.

— I don't wanna boost your ego. — you snickered, yelping when his thumb pressed down on your clit and his fingers dug inside you even more.

— Yeah, well. — he laughed, shaking his head. — You can't hide the sounds you're making down here. — he snickered, slowly pulling his three fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. His tongue moved between his fingers, licking your juices and the shower water off of them. You watched, mesmerized.

Once his fingers were cleaned to his liking, he gripped the back of your thighs, having you jump up again. He gave you a nod, questioning if you were ready or not. You nodded yours quickly, having been ready for this for months. Aligning his cock with your entrance, Billy didn't have the ability to ease himself in because of your guys positions. So with one quick thrust, he was inside you, his hand splayed out against the wall and the other gripping your ass.

— Fuck. — you screamed, throwing your head back, crying out when it hit the wall. Billy was big, bigger than his three fingers. Your arms pulled him closer, trying to even out your breathing and relax your muscles around him. Billy didn't move, small moans being breathed into the crook of your neck.

— I'm sorry, doll. — he whispered, knowing it hurt. You didn't have lube or a condom, and not much preparation.

— No, no, don't apologize. — you said quickly, squeezing yourself around him to emphasize. — It's fine. You can.. you can start.

Billy removed his head to look at you, but when you gave him a nod he started moving. He thrusted slowly, not wanting to lose his grip on you or push your body. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you moved your body along his, matching his thrusts with your own.

— God. — he moaned, pulling his cock farther out before slamming back in, continuing the movement over and over again. Your nails scratched their way over his shoulder blades, biceps, back and anywhere they could reach. The pain was decreasing as the thrusting went on, and when Billy moved you slightly to the left, slamming back in, your eyes shot open.

— Holy fuck, right there, Billy! — you shouted out, arching yourself into him.

Billy smirked up at you, licking his bottom lip and doing as you said. He quickened his pace, no longer hearing your hisses of pain, and thrusted into you quickly. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, as well as the sound of your back hitting the wall, echoed throughout the bathroom, overpowering the shower.

— Ugh, god. — Billy grunted, throwing his head back. — I can't hold out much longer, Y/N. — he moaned, looking down at you just as you opened your eyes to look at him.

— I'm close too. — you whimpered, hiking yourself higher up on the wall, screaming out when his cock hit the spot again, but deeper. — Fuck, fuck, fuck. — you moaned, a streamline of curse words leaving your mouth. — Billy, I'm.. — you tried to warn him, but a high pitched moan escaped before you could finish as the heat in the bottom of your stomach exploded. A wave of warmth washed over you, your toes curling and your thighs squeezing around Billy, pulling him closer. You mouth fell open, letting out a small, quiet gasp as you orgasmed.

Billy pulled out quickly, feeling his own orgasm wash over him, and his hot cum sprayed over your stomach and the tops of your thighs. Your head fell to his shoulder limply, your body slipping down the shower wall, as it shook from your orgasm. You could see your thighs wiggling, and Billy gently lowered you to the floor. When the cold shower water hit you, you welcomed it, letting the cum wash off of you.

— Hey. — Billy whispered, his arms wrapping around you from behind. — This isn't a one time thing. I want you to be mine.

— Good. — you grinned, a giddy feeling coming over you, more intense than your orgasm. You turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. — Let's go take a nap, that project can wait until later.

[lordprettyflackotara]

forgot about jack || eyeless jack & jeff the killer

tw: smut, 18+, minors dni threesome, double penetration, knife play, freaky demon top, unrealistic sex but what else are you here for be fr

a/n: this may be the silliest plot to a smut i’ve ever written LMAO

“Oh cmon what the fuck is this?!”

Jeff’s voice boomed through out the living room. Jack sat unfazed on the couch, channel surfing on the television. “Something wrong Jeff?” He asked flatly. Jeff was always on one, always mad or triggered about something. It didn’t take a genius to get accustomed to his dramatic antics. Jeff stormed around the couch, blocking Jacks view of the television. He held out a newspaper in his hand.

“New women killers on the rise?! Look at this!” He ordered. His pale finger pointed to an article, Jack quickly gazing over it. He leaned to his right, trying to see the TV past Jeff. “Yes Jeff it is 2024, women can slaughter people just like we do,” Jack replied. He scanned the newspaper again, rolling his non existent eyes. You would’ve thought after him creating Jane and Nina he would’ve gotten a clue. “Nuh uh! They’re not just slaughtering folks EJ. They’re stealing credit for our hard work. Look again!” Jeff exclaimed. He flipped the page, pointing at the headline.

Eyeless Jill is at it again! Farmers lungs stolen!

Jack ripped the newspaper from his hands, rising to his feet. His eyebrows furrowed as he read the article. “What?! Who the actual fuck is Eyeless Jill?” Jack hissed He gripped the newspaper, examining the victims photo. “I took that fuckers kidneys! KIDNEYS! Who the fuck likes lungs? They’re so sour,” He rambled. Jeff crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. “Oh so you only care when it’s your work being stolen. I invented going to sleep,” Jeff grumbled. He couldn’t believe what he was reading.

“We have to do something about this! What kinda sick fuck would spin the narrative? Have they really forgotten about me?” Jack asked, sitting back down on the couch. He felt defeated, forgotten about. Jeff grinned devilishly as he pointed at the author.

“I say we should pay Y/n Y/l/n a little visit, don’t you think so Jacky?”

Both Jack and Jeff stood ominously in the shadows, admiring your house. “This house will look better burned to the ground,” Jeff muttered. He was salty about his article, or in better words, lack of one. Jane had stolen the front cover. “I want to see the bitch first,” Jack grumbled. He led the way, sliding into your living room window. Unlocked. Typical. Your house was further away from town. Jack thought humans were smarter than this. As he walked into your living room he concluded he was wrong.

Your small television played an old sitcom, the laugh track playing in the background as Jeff followed him. Jack signaled for him to check the kitchen, gesturing his head. Jeff stood still. “EJ I don’t think now is the time for a snack,” He whispered. Jack had to restrain himself from face palming. “Check the kitchen you dumbass,” He ordered. Jeff’s eyes narrowed. “Since when do I take orders from you? We-” He began, the blinding light of a flashlight diminishing their debate.

There you stood, a short satin baby blue nightgown barely covering your chest and thighs. Your innocent appearance almost made Jack falter, until he remembered the newspaper article. You didn’t seem to be armed and even if you were, Jack easily towered over you. “Holy shit you guys are real?” You gasped. You were clutching your cross necklace for dear life, the men exchanging looks. “Obviously we’re real! You’re obsessed with replacing us with women!” Jeff said. Jack sighed, yanking the newspaper out of his hoodie. He shoved it in front of you, your eyes bewildered with terror as he towered over you.

“See this? What the fuck is an Eyeless Jill?” He hissed. You skimmed the article, recognizing your own writing. “You do realize you guys are urban legends right? Not celebrities?! I didn’t even think you guys existed,” You argued. Somehow the pale killer without eyelids and eyeless demon didn’t seem to faze you, your temperament hot. “Well we do, we’re right here,” Jeff huffed. He crossed his arms, glaring at you. “So Eyeless Jill and Jane don’t exist then but you guys do?” You asked. Jack glanced at Jeff, who was not so subtly trying to signal him to not reveal Jane’s existence. “Well Jane does exist but that was Jeff’s kill,” Jack said. He smirked under his mask, paying Jeff back for his stupidity.

“Is she with you guys or?” You asked, glancing behind them. Jeff could have ripped a chunk of his hair out from irritation. “No she’s not with us! You should be honored to be in our presence you stupid slut!” Jeff spat. Jack noticed the subtle rubbing of your thighs, but pretended not to. “See right here it says go to sleep on the wall, Jane’s catch phrase is don’t go to sleep you won’t wake up,” Jack explained, pointing to the picture. You murmured an ‘oh’, studying the photograph. “Hello?! EJ stop simping and let’s get on with torching the place,” Jeff bellowed. You looked at Jeff, the pale killer losing his temper. “You guys want to burn down my house?” You questioned.

Jack shrugged, Jeff’s hand flying to his forehead. “It’s not my problem Jane does headlining kills and you don’t,” You argued. Aggressively you went to launch yourself at Jeff, the eyeless demon grabbing you and restraining you. “Oh and by the way i’m not simping. If I was her panties would be on the floor by now,” Jack told him. You thrashed under his grasp, desperate slap Jeff. “Oh please. If she’s going to drop her panties for either of us it would be me,” Jeff argued. Jack set you aside, stepping up to his partner in crime. “You’re always so cocky and i’ll never understand why. You think that pasty dick of yours could ever even compete with mine?” Jack snarled. Jeff gave him a cold smile, “I know it could.”

“Thats not what Jane said,” Jack debated. Jeff’s cockiness fell. “YOU FUCKED JANE?” He questioned. Quietly you slid on top of your kitchen table, your feet dangling as you watched the argument continue. “I did and i’ll go ahead and let you know she told me i’m better than you,” Jack informed him, mockingly patting his shoulder. Jeff let out a dramatic gasp. “We fucked when I was like fifteen that absolutely does not count,” Jeff hissed. Jack crossed his arms. “Oh really? Is there another girl we’ve both fucked that you’d like to ask?” Jack questioned. It was then the boys gaze landed on you, your perky nipples showing through your thin nightgown.

You gulped nervously, watching the two tall killers stride towards you. “You know she is a pretty one,” Jack murmured. He reached his hand out, stroking your jaw with his fingertips. You were practically shaking with fear and arousal. “No reason why we can’t share her, then have her tell us who’s better,” Jeff purred. Jack inhaled deeply, the smell of your arousal flooding his nostrils. He grinned mischievously under his mask. “I think she likes it when we talk about her like she isn’t here,” Jack informed Jeff. You rubbed your thighs together anxiously, looking up at the two men.

The demon brought his thumb to your lower lip, dragging it down slowly. Instinctively you opened your mouth, sucking on his thumb. Jack smirked as Jeff rounded the table, climbing onto it and placing himself behind you. Jack lowered himself to his knees, spreading your thighs. Removing his thumb from your mouth, you shared a look of lust. “Such a tiny little thing,” Jeff snickered. His pale hands explored your chest, sliding the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders and arms. Your breast were exposed to the cool night air, Jeff’s fingertips on them in a flash.

His touch was cold, Jack’s warm. “Why don’t you remove your mask Jacky, let the whore see what she’s letting fuck her?” Jeff asked. Jack slid off his royal blue mask, the demon staring up at him. Oozing black tar dripped from his eye sockets, coating his lower eyes. You shuddered at the sight, Jeff pinching your nipples. You gasped, a smile creeping across Jacks lips. Rows of razor sharp teeth revealed themselves behind his curled lips. “Scared yet?” Jeff taunted, his breath hot against your ear. Jack placed sloppy open mouth kisses to your thighs, his large hands keeping your thighs pried apart.

“Not in the slightest,” You lied boldly. Jeff snickered, sliding his knife out of his pocket. Jack nuzzled himself to your cunt, one of his tongues licking a stripe through the skimpy silk that was your panties. The pale killer brought the blade to your throat, the metal cool against your skin. You swallowed, fear and lust washing over you. “You’re fucking pathetic, letting us play with you. You’re scared now, aren’t you whore?” Jeff huffed. You could feel his boner poke you from behind, the sight of Jacks three black tongues making you shudder in fear. He pulled your panties to the side, watching you intently. He slowly slid one of them into your drenched cunt, another one toying with your clit.

You moaned, one of your hands flying to Jacks hair. The blade of the knife pressed against your throat harder, causing you to squeal. “Answer me bitch, you’re scared aren’t you?” Jeff hissed. You wanted to nod, the knife restricting you. Your hips desperately moved on their own, grinding against Jacks tongues. It was then you felt another one slide inside of you, curling upwards. “Fuck yes, i’m scared, but it feels so good,” You groaned. Jeff brought his knife down to your nipples, using the sharp tip to play with your nipples. Jacks tongues were curling upwards to hit your g spot, a knot forming inside of your stomach.

“Awe really? Does Jacky make you feel good?” Jeff asked tauntingly. He dragged the blade to your other nipple, poking at your sensitive buds. “Y-yes, so fucking good,” You moaned. Your fingers were yanking at his brown curls, your eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure. You were pathetically grinding against his face, your orgasm getting closer and closer. “Awe is someone gonna cum? For two killers? How filthy,” Jeff purred. He nibbled at your earlobe, your sinful noises bouncing off of the walls.

“C-c-cumming!” You stuttered, Jacks one last flick at your clit sending you over the edge. You could feel the thinnest line of blood forming across your neck, your thighs squeezing around Jacks head as you came down from your high. Jack slowly emerged from your cunt, a devious grin spread across his lips. “You taste so fucking good,” He panted. He rose to his feet, admiring your exposed figure. “You’re lucky I want to fuck you, otherwise i’d eat those pretty organs,” Jack purred. The boys rearranged you, Jack laying flat on the kitchen table. Jeff guided you to crawl on top of him, your ass in the air as you positioned yourself on all fours. Jack grinned as you met his gaze.

“With how big I am it’s better that I take your cunt,” Jack explained. You whimpered as you heard the clinking of both the boys belts. “I-I’ve never-” You stuttered, shaking with nerves. Jeff’s large hands grasped your ass, massaging the skin harshly. “We know doll, we’re making you our personal slut,” Jeff chuckled darkly. Jack guided his cock to your cunt, collecting your slick on his tip. He gave you a small smile. “This may hurt a little bit,” He warned. You grabbed onto his hoodie, your core throbbing in desire as Jack began to push himself into you. A mixture of moans and whines escaped your lips, your eyes screwed shut.

“There you go, you can take it,” Jack purred. He could hear your heartbeat speed up, the sound pleasurable to his ears. You felt Jeff spit on your other puckered hole, your knuckles turning pale from gripping Jack so hard. Once Jack bottomed out you felt Jeff’s finger teasing your other hole. You felt like you were being split in half by Jacks cock alone, the idea of taking Jeff’s unimaginable. “You’re so fucking tight,” Jack growled, his noises sounding animalistic. Jeff shoved a finger inside of your unexplored hole, a gasp being ripped out of your throat. “I’d start fucking her Jacky, she’s gonna be in the world of pain,” Jeff suggested.

Jack began to slowly move, his cock slowly exiting your dripping cunt. “Such a breedable cunt,” Jack muttered. His large hands grabbed the sides of your stomach, his cock returning to your cunt and brushing against your g spot. “Fuck, please go faster fucking please,” You pleaded. Who was Jack to deny you of that? Jack began to fuck you quickly, his hips snapping into yours. Jeff curled his finger inside of your other hole, the pain subsiding as Jack abused your cunt. “Thats a good fucktoy. Just be a babbling begging slut for us,” Jeff snickered. A sharp slap landed on your ass, causing an electric shock to shoot down your spine. Jeff inserted another finger, his patience thinning.

Watching Jack fuck you in front of him was too erotic, his cock twitching with urgency. The pale killer removed his fingers, spitting on your puckered hole again. “This may hurt, a lot,” He warned, smirking to himself as you whimpered. Jeff began pushing himself inside of you, your vision seeing stars. Your vision became spotty, strings of whimpers and moans escaping your lips. Your eyes were screwed shut, Jeff focused on bottoming out. You felt dizzy, a large hand cupping your face. Jacks touch was warm, the demon bringing his lips to yours. The kiss was unexpected, your body beginning to relax as he tenderly kissed you.

“Yeah that’s right, kiss her before I turn her mouth into my personal cum dump,” Jeff grunted. Your walls were spasming around the both of them, your body being pushed to its limits. Your eyes fluttered open, your vision still hazy as you groaned into Jacks mouth. Both of them began moving in unison, opposing the other’s pace. “Holy shit,” You cried. You felt so full, the killers having the time of their lives abusing your holes. “Fuck, you’re coming home with us. I need to breed you. Every fucking day,” Jack grunted. An animalistic growl was boiling in the bottom of his throat, his thrust becoming more intense.

His filthy words only made you clench around him tighter. Your sounds were uncontrollable, your body beginning to shake as they fucked you senseless. “Fuck fuck fuck, feels so- mmph!” You whined. You could feel the cord inside of you tightening again, the boys large hands holding your body up. “Such a pathetic whore. You gonna cum on our dicks?” Jeff taunted. You nuzzled your face into Jacks neck, your thighs violently shaking as you came around his cock. Your walls milking Jack sent him over the edge, his seed painting your inner walls with one final thrust. Jeff reached over, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking you towards him. He relished in the whimpers of pain that escaped your lips, the killer tugging at the roots of your scalp as he came inside of your other hole.Jeff released your scalp, the three of you panting in unison as you came down from your highs.

\/

You stood in between Jack and Jeff, arms crossed. “Was this absolutely necessary?” You questioned. Jeff was practically bouncing with joy, your beloved farm house now engulfed in flames. You all watched as the flames spread further and further across the building. “I told you it would look better burnt down. I was right,” Jeff gleamed. You frowned, your baby blue nightgown barely covering your exposed skin as a night breeze blew past. “So where exactly am I supposed to go now?” You asked. Jeff carelessly tossed his handful of matches aside, throwing them into the fire. Jack followed suit, tossing his can of gasoline into the large flames.

“Didn’t you hear me? You’re coming home with us. You’ll never forget our names again.”