#when i ride i have to reassure her ALL THE TIME | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bpmiranda · 26 days

Text

Uncle Logan |l.howlett| nsfw

A/N: a little suggestive content, uncle!logan x faux!niece reader, age gap, mean!logan, underage drinking, punishment, 18+ f!reader, implied consent, cheating(?)

Your father has come to terms with the fact that letting you come and go as you please is less of a hassle for him than trying to control you. Your mother worries about the boys you ride around with and the girls who help you sneak out when she’s tried to lay down the law. At their wit’s end, they find themselves left with one option; send you into the city to live with your Uncle Logan.

“You want me to live with Uncle Logan for the summer?” You ask in disbelief, arms folded and legs crossed as you sit in your bedroom listening to your parents tell you that they’ve basically had too much of you and are sending you away. You knew you weren’t the perfect daughter, but to just send you off like this seemed a bit excessive to you.

While you love Uncle Logan, you’re devastated that you won’t be able to see your friends or your boyfriend on a daily basis. There were plans you had made together to celebrate finally being out of high school. They were being total drags. “Your father and I just feel you don’t have very good influences and a change of scenery might do you some good.” Your mom explains, wringing her hands nervously. “It’ll just be until Uncle Logan thinks your behavior is adjusted.”

“Mom, this is bullshit, I have already graduated. I did my time, right? I finished high school and now I get to have some fun. It’s not fair!” You argue and your dad shakes his head. “Dad!” You groan.

“No, young lady, you need to be looking into college. You’ve gotta start taking your future seriously. Uncle Logan is a good man and a trusted friend of mine, he’s going to whip you into shape.”

That was the end of that discussion and the next week you were sent to the city. “You’re leaving today?” Your boyfriend asked incredulously over the phone as you angrily toss personal items into your bags. “That’s a bummer.”

“Tell me about it.” You mutter, picking up the small framed picture of you and him and carefully setting it in your bag. “Will you come visit me?” You ask, knowing the answer already, but you love how wrapped around your finger you’ve got him.

“Of course I will, baby.” He says and you smile to yourself. “I’ll come sneak you out like usual. No biggie.”

“It might be a little fun with being in the city and all.” You muse as you sit on your bed and wait for the cab your parents arranged for you to arrive. They didnt even think this was something worth taking off work for so they could drive you themselves. “They’ve got the best bars in the city.”

“Hell yeah, we’ll make the best of it, sweet pea.” He reassures you and you sigh contently.

When your taxi cab arrived to take you into the city, you hung up with your boyfriend and begrudgingly got into the yellow vehicle. Overall, it wasn’t a completely terrible situation because it was clear you and your parents could use some distance. Uncle Logan lived in a shitty apartment building that you remembered pretty well and you recall enjoying the visits to the city in the past. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad staying with him. He wasn’t actually your uncle anyway, so maybe he wouldn’t be so strict with you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Logan greets you in his building’s lobby and you give him a big hug. You’re always taken by how very tall and muscular he is each time you see him. Those strong arms wrapping around you protectively, his kind green eyes, that handsome smile - he gives you butterflies. “You sprouted like a weed, huh?” He comments as he set you back down on your feet. “It’s only been a year.” You grin as he takes your bags and leads you upstairs to his apartment.

“Did my parents tell you why I’m here?” You ask as he lets you in and you turn to look at him curiously. Logan gives you a sympathetic look and you chuckle in disbelief. “Of course they did,” You mutter. “So I bet you’ll be keeping a close eye on me.”

Uncle Logan chuckled as he shook his head, walking down the narrow hallway to the bedroom. “No, kiddo, I won’t be.” He turns to look at you, his stare was suddenly hard and domineering, it made you nervous. “Because you’re not going to want to cause me any problems, right?” You find yourself nodding, crossing your arms over your middle. “That’s a peach, c’mon, let’s get your room set up.”

Kind and handsome as he could be, you knew Uncle Logan was different. Hardened by a vastly long past, but you weren’t going to be deterred by his attempts at keeping you locked up. You were good at getting your way.

You’d soon find out, however, that Logan was better at dealing out punishments than preventing the need for them.

After a small dinner, Logan set you up with a small television in your bedroom that only took CDs and a few stacks of your childhood favorites which you had grown out of by now, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him. You thanked him and waited for him to leave your bedroom to bring your phone out and call your friends about tonight.

“We’ll come break you out around midnight.” Your friend says over the phone as you sit on your new bed and look out the window at the street below. With nightfall now covering most of the view of the street, the lights make the city look so pretty and everything down there is too dark to make out from the apartment windows, the perfect amount of cover for sneaking out.

“There’s an alleyway across the street from the apartment building,” You tell her. “I’ll be waiting there.”

“Sounds good, see you soon!”

Excitedly, you look through your suitcase for an outfit and settle on a black dress with a deep V neckline that stops right above your navel. The skirt falls at the middle of your thigh where it hugs the shape of you ass and the sleeves are long and a mesh material that cuff at your wrists. As you’re killing time, you fix your hair and make sure it falls exactly where you want it to before you decide to add a little makeup.

- brr brr brr - your phone vibrates and you check the message to see that it says your friends are on the way and your boyfriend is with them. A smile tugs at your lips and you do another mirror check before quietly leaving your bedroom.

You are sure Uncle Logan has gone to sleep by now and you’re quick to hurry out of the apartment, only putting your heels on once you are in the lobby. You smile to yourself as you cross the street and look behind you at the apartment building smugly. “Easy breezy.” You murmur as you step into the alley and wait for your friends to call. It was quite cold and you wished you had brought a coat when you suddenly hear the flick of a lighter. Chills run through your body as you turn around and spot the flame of the zippo lighter illuminating your uncle’s face as he’s lighting his cigar. Fuck, you think to yourself as he takes the few steps that close the space between the two of you.

“Going somewhere?” He asks with a smirk.

“No,” You say straightforward. “I-I’m just-”

“Save it.” Logan says before he drags you back the apartment as you’re protesting and pleading, your heels clicking loudly on the concrete staircase.

“Uncle Logan, this is totally unfair!” You whine as he pulls you back into the apartment and slams the door shut angrily behind him. “Come on, I won’t even be gone two hours!”

Logan wordlessly forces you to sit on the couch in the living room and then he saunters to the kitchen where he grabs a half-full whiskey bottle from the cabinet. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion because you swore he was mad, but he’s going to let you have a drink now? Logan shoves the bottle into your lap and then sits on the couch recliner where he points a finger at you.

“Listen to me, very clearly,” He begins and you feel the blood drain from your body from the fear of his aggressive tone. “I’m only going to say this one time, kid. I don’t give a shit what you think is fair. Do you know why?” You say nothing and he continues. “Because you’re a fucking kid. You don’t get to decide what’s fair as long as you’re living off your father’s money. Got it?” Tears prickle at your eyes, but you blink them away. “Now finish that bottle.”

Your eyes widen and you look down at the liquor bottle, completely taken by surprise. This is far too much for you to drink. “I-I’m-I can’t.” You stammer looking over at him as he’s relighting his cigar.

His eyes were serious and cold as the ember at the end of his cigar pulsed with his toking. “Isn’t that what you were going to do tonight?” Logan asks after blowing a cloud of smoke towards you. “You were going out drinking, right?” Your mouth falls open, but no words come out. “Answer the damn question.” He orders and you sigh.

“Yes, I was going out to drink.” You say in a soft voice, your hands trembling.

“So, drink.” He shrugs. “Go on.”

Slowly, you uncap the bottle and take a deep breath before you take a swig. Your face screws up with disgust as you force yourself to swallow the alcohol, some of it dripping down your chin. It burns down your throat and you gasp, coughing and holding onto your chest. “Uncle Logan,” You say, looking at him with the pout that usually works on your dad. “Please, I can’t drink this.”

“What do you drink when you go out with your friends?” He asks curiously and you feel your face grow hot which makes him laugh. “You’re one of those fruity girls, huh? Vodka cranberries and peach schnapps? You’ve got no business being at bars, you belong at a fucking brunch.” You grow annoyed, a little insulted at the way that he’s taking to you, and he notices. “Did I hit a nerve? Go on, keep drinking, kid. Consider it your punishment and I won’t tell your parents you tried breaking the rules on your first night.”

You angrily take another swig and you groan, shaking your head. More of it spills down your chin, onto your chest. “Fuck!” You spit, wishing he’d just ground you or take your phone. Logan keeps watching you, making sure you drink and drink until you’re feeling the buzz and your eyes are stinging from the burn and your own tears.

“You oughta count yourself lucky, kid,” Uncle Logan says as he puts out the stub of his cigar. “Those boys at the bar would’ve seen a pretty thing like you walk in and roofied your drink, then what? The hell am I s’posed to tell your parents then?”

You pout, crying softly because you are drunker now than you’ve ever been before and it feels awful. “Uncle Logan,” You whine, your grip loose on the bottle as you’re growing dizzy and hot in your dress. “Please, I wanna stop.” You slur, sniffling as you try to tug your dress off by your sleeve. Logan’s eyes fall on the V cut of your dress, your breasts almost exposed as you’re sloppy with your movements, small drops of whiskey running down your middle. Your brows furrow in distress and you cry more, blubbering about wanting to take the dress off, wanting to stop. You’ve drank almost two thirds of what was left in the bottle and he chuckles at what it’s done to you.

“Let me see it, sweetheart.” You reach over to hand him the bottle. “Walk it over here.” He says, watching you with amusement as you wobble to your feet and take three unsteady steps towards him. Logan guides you onto his lap and he takes the bottle from you, turning it up and drinking what’s left at the bottom. You sniff as you watch him, wiping your teary eyes as his free hand settles on your ass. “See that? You’re no drinker.” He says, setting the bottle down and placing a hand on your thigh as he looks at you sniffling on his lap, your red lips pouty and your mascara running. “Is this what you wanted? To go drinking just to get this sloppy? You can’t even handle your alcohol. How were you gonna handle some asshole groping on you all night?” He says, shaking his head as he gently wipes your chin off with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, Logan,” You murmur, your sight blurry from tears and the alcohol drowning your inhibitions. “I won’t sneak out again.”

“I don’t believe that.” He smirks, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, wiping your tears, and you let your head fall into his palm. “You would’ve been picked up immediately.” He says softly, admiring how pretty you are and he recalls the conversation he had overheard you having on the phone before you snuck out. “Were you meeting a boyfriend?” You nod.

“Adam.”

“What do you and Adam do when you go drinking?” He asks, amused with how tame you are right now.

A smile curls your lips as you think about the things you and Adam do in his car after hitting the bars. You haven’t had sex yet, despite what your parents may think. Not because you’re nervous, but because Adam does whatever you say in the hope of someday getting into your panties. You want to keep it that way for a little while longer. “Stuff.” You blush, grinning at him, fiddling with the buttons of his flannel, and Logan chuckles.

“Does he finger you?”

“Uncle Logan!” You giggle, covering your face shyly.

Logan laughs lightly while caressing your back lovingly. “I won’t tell, sweet girl.” His hand is sliding off your cheek and down your neck, past your collarbones, ghosting over your breast while his thumb lightly traces the now dried line of whiskey drops that ran down your chest, exposed by the cut of your dress. “You sure dressed up real pretty for him.” You let out a soft moan as he tentatively kisses the valley between your breasts and he smells your arousal as it grows in your panties. It smells so sweet and fresh, it makes his mouth water and his cock hard underneath your thigh. His tongue peeks out to lick the whiskey off your skin and you mewl softly, the sound causing many inappropriate thoughts to cross his mind.

“Mm, that feels good.” You whisper, your fist tugging on his flannel and the other hand hooked around his neck. Logan’s got one large hand holding the back of your head as it leans backwards so you give him more access to your body. The other hand is groping your breast while he’s slowly kissing and licking your skin up to your neck and back down just above your belly button, tasting the alcohol you had spilled on yourself. You’re breathing heavily, gasping softly as his tongue and teeth start nipping at your skin, making you grow damp between your legs.

“So fucking pretty.” He murmurs against your sternum making you shudder.

“Uncle Logan,” You breathe out shakily, your thighs clamping together as he slips his hand underneath the skirt of your dress. “You shouldn’t be touching me like this.” You say although you’re not exactly putting up a fight.

Logan kisses your jaw softly, grabbing firmly onto the bottom of your thigh to stop himself from going up any further. “You’re right, sweet girl.” He says and he suddenly lifts you up bridal style, making you giggle as he carries you to your bedroom.

You feel so small in his arms and you find yourself kissing his cheek, humming against his jaw as your fingers lace through his hair. A small groan vibrates in his chest and you smile to yourself. “You like that?” You ask teasingly, kissing his neck as he opens your bedroom door. “Stay with me?” You ask, biting your lip as he lays you in your bed and he only chuckles. You watch as he undoes the straps of your heels and tosses them before he pulls the blanket over you.

“Go to sleep, kid.” He says as he leaves your room.

And you do, the drunken buzz in your head lulling you into a deep sleep.

🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃

Let me know what you think:)

Uncle Logan II

Uncle Logan III

Uncle Logan Epilogue

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fic #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x y/n #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine fic #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine x you #x men wolverine #hugh jackman #wolverine x y/n

1K notes · View notes

entitled-fangirl · 2 months

Text

I promise everything.

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!wife!reader

Summary: the two have been married for months. When attending Aegon and Helaena’s wedding, the reader becomes self conscious on why they don’t have children yet.

Warnings: talks of sex

Masterlist

………………………………

Cregan cracked open the door slowly as he walked in, "My love, are you…"

His question died off from his lips as his eyes took in what laid in the room.

His wife, the younger twin of Aegon II, stood tall as her handmaiden finished tying the dress she wore. A noble blue hue to it, a perfect symbol of house Stark at a Targaryen wedding. The color did something to him inside.

She managed eye contact with him through the mirror and frowned, "Am I what?"

He bit his lip for a moment with a furrowed brow before doing a small shrug, "Uh. It's alright. Take your time."

She smiled and let out a soft laugh.

The handmaiden was soon finished and excused herself.

Y/n turned around to finally look fully at Cregan. Her eyes moved up and down his body, "You look rather dashing."

Now far from the north, Cregan had to abandon his fur cloak, leaving him in his dark tunic, blue surcoat and the Wolf sigil embroidered across the chest. Now his broad shoulders were quite displayed, as well as his fit physique that was usually up to imagination. He smiled at her, "And you…"

Her brows pulled together for just a moment, "What?" She turned to the mirror, "Is something amiss?"

He quickly held his hands up to reassure her, "No, my dear. I only meant that… I… I am utterly speechless is all."

She looked back to him with a grin, "Ah. And here I thought you wouldn't like it."

"You believed I wouldn't?" He asked as he rested his hands on her hips. "How could I not enjoy the sight of my wife dressed as a wolf in the midst of dragons?"

She chuckled as her hands moved to his chest, "I am entirely a wolf now, Cregan."

He grinned widely, "That's the best part." He leaned in a trailed kisses down her jaw, "Perhaps I'll get to enjoy you dressed in nothing by the end of the night."

…

Due to the convenience of having the two Targaryen siblings marrying themselves, the entire family fit at the high table, Y/n and Cregan towards the end.

Next to her younger brother Aemond, the two quiet siblings whispered to one another in discussion, including Cregan when he wasn't distracted by the over-the-top atmosphere.

Aemond was a fair brother to her, closer now during this age than her own twin or sister had ever been. "I suppose you're now stuck horse-riding without me around?"

The two had once shared in their lack of dragon. When Aemond claimed Vhagar, he made a vow to not abandon his sister so quickly in her endeavors, letting her ride Vhagar with him when she had needed outside of the keep.

The North had nothing of the sort, and leaving had been hard.

She nodded, "Yes, but Cregan gifted me the most wonderful horse. We ride quite often, weather permitting."

Aemond hummed, "You'll have to take a break from riding soon, I'd wager."

She frowned, "Why ever would I do that?"

"It's not healthy to do while with child."

"Well," she bit back sarcasm, "I am not with child. I have time."

"You've been married for nearly eleven moons. Most are with child by the third."

"I am not most, am I, brother?"

Noticing her bitter tone, he hummed and changed topics. He leaned over to look to Cregan, "My lord, do tell me what horse you've gifted my sister."

Cregan's expression immediately brightened at the topic of something he knew quite well, "A fjord horse. Not a runner by any means but a reliable one when…"

She zoned out from there, staring absent-mindedly at the dance floor.

Perhaps Aemond was right. Should she be with child by now?

Had she done something wrong? What if she was unable to have children? Would Cregan abandon her?

She looked to Aegon and Helaena dancing. Smiling at one another.

What if her own siblings had children before she did? How weak of a Targaryen does that make her?

"Admiring the dancing?" Cregan's voice suddenly murmured near her.

She turned her head to him, seeing his worried expression studying her.

How long had their conversation been over and she'd just been staring off in the distance?

"Is everything alright, my girl?"

She smoothed a hair back behind her ear, "I'm only lost in thought is all."

He grunted in acknowledgement. "A dangerous place to be." He tilted his head, "Wanna talk about it?'

"Not really."

He nodded but made no motion to move. He knew her quite well by now and knew she would soon-

"Why am I not with child?"

He knew she'd state her thoughts, but he didn't consider it to be that one. He frowned, "I don't suppose I have an answer."

She leaned back as the next song started, "Do you think less of me for it?"

His head tilted again like a dog hearing an uncomfortable tone, "Do I… No. No, I do not."

"I just don't understand why then."

"Darling, the gods will grant a child to us when they deem the time fit. Please do not let a thought like this ruin the celebration."

She nodded and sniffled lightly, pushing back the tears in her waterline. "You're right. What a foolish thing to stress over."

He let out a content sigh, happy with her answer. When silence loomed over the two, he watched Aegon and Helaena dance. A thought popped into the Northerner's head, and he leaned towards her again, "Perhaps we can imagine no time has passed at all."

Her face turned contemplative, "How so?"

"Perhaps," he whispered, "Tonight can be just like our wedding night."

"I'm listening."

But Cregan Stark is a man of action. He stood abruptly and held out his hand. "May I have the honor of a dance with my perfect wife?"

She grinned, trying to ignore the stares of her family and the people. She whispered, "You hate to dance."

"Aye, but I love to please you more."

Her cheeks flushed, but she took his hand and let him lead her to the floor as the next song started.

As a high lord, Cregan had been taught all of the dances. But he was no real dancer. He preferred the dance of battle than one in a ballroom. How he managed to get by for one and twenty years with only a single dance with his wife, he's unsure of. He only hoped not to embarrass her this second time.

His steps were heavy compared to her light ones. His moves, though carefully calculated, were clumsy compared to her precise ones done without a second thought. His eyes had to double check every step and move. He was sure she did it with her eyes closed.

Though nervous, a smile was plain and broad across his features.

She could feel his nerves radiate off of him in comforting waves, a reassurance to her that he would face his greatest fears for her. Not dragon fire. A dance floor. And he did so happily.

When the dance finished, he couldn't stop himself and planted a heavy kiss to her lips. He didn't care who saw. This was his wife. She was his, and he was hers.

"Let us retire," she panted against his lips.

His grin continued. "Yes, my lady."

…

Once away from the crowd, their lips moved in tandem, pausing against various pillars and walls to breathe each other in.

"Please put a child in me, Cregan."

He let out a loud groan against her lips at her words. "I will," he whispered.

He tried to move his mouth back to hers and she pulled hers away, making him chase hers. He let out a breathy plea, "I will."

Her fingers came up, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip, "Promise me?"

"I promise. I'll do whatever it takes, my girl. I'll give you a baby, I promise." He leaned in, only to be denied her again. His voice softened, "I promise everything."

She leaned in just a bit, "Take me like you did on our wedding night."

He picked her up, slamming their chamber door behind him.

…

Needless to say, about nine months later, a babe laid in Cregan's arms as he sat next to his exhausted wife.

There never was a Stark who forgot an oath.

………………………………….

Cregan Stark taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor

#fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x y/n #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones imagine #cregan stark x reader #house of the dragon #cregan stark x you #cregan stark #cregan stark x female reader #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark fanfic #cregan x reader #creagan stark #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark x targaryen!reader

1K notes · View notes

benevolentbones · 3 months

Note

Hi! What about if an unsub was threatening the teams families and so they had to gather everyone together and that’s how the team finds out that Spencer has a very pregnant girlfriend lmao

Maybe some angst but lots of fluff!

surprise surprise | spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: minimal angst, lots of fluff!! happy couple

word count: 0.8k

a/n: thank you for the request! hope you enjoy this short fic !! reblogs n comments appreciated!

the bau had been dealing with a particularly difficult unsub for weeks, a conscientious criminal who always seemed to be a few paces ahead. and now this unsub had changed his motive, he was now threatening the families of all the members of the bau.

which lead to the team having their respective families brought in to quantico, with no choice other then to have them go into protective custody.

the team were all gathered in the large conference room, waiting for their family members to arrive. slowly people began entering the room, first morgan’s mother and sisters, then penelope’s brother and so on until almost everyone’s families were present.

all except spencer’s. he anxiously stood by the door, hotch to his side. every so often he would glance to the door and then back to hotch who gave him a stern but reassuring look.

“they’re on the way..don’t worry.” he placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder to calm the younger man. hotch was the only one who was aware of spencer’s…situation.

after a few more moments, diana, spencer’s mother walked through the door being guided by a member of police. he relaxed slightly, giving his mother a brief hug before continuing to look towards the door.

hotch scanned the room, checking off all the members of the bau and their families. another few minutes passed and spencer was growing anxious again.

spencer pulled out his cellphone for the 30th time in the last hour, dialling the same number he had tried the last twenty nine times. it went straight to voicemail. shit. he thought, he brain wandering to the worst possible scenario.

until a girl in her mid twenties ambled through the doorway, followed by a member of the police. she held onto her stomach as she walked, letting out a breath when she got to the doorway.

spencer instantly relaxed, quickly rushing to the girls side. she was clearly a few months pregnant, the shirt she wore riding up around her midriff to expose the bump.

spencer immediately pulled her into his arms, holding her close. morgan and emily who were a few feet away exchanged a look to eachother. “is that reid’s sister? they look nothing alike.” emily whispered out.

spencer pulled away from you, his hands resting on either side of your arms. his eyes softened when they met yours.

“i was so worried-“ he began, pausing when you smiled back at him.

“i’m alright spencer really..” you responded, placing a soft hand to cup his cheek.

he let out a breathy sigh, scanning your body. “are you okay? is the baby okay?” he quizzed, still a little anxious about the thought of the unsub threatening you.

“spencer..we’re okay.” you mumbled, lightly moving his face so he was locking eyes with you. “you don’t need to worry anymore.”

“i- i know i can’t help it..” he smiled, resting his hand on your cheek before pulling you in for a kiss. you relaxed in his hold, melting into the sweet embrace.

morgan and emily’s eyes widened slightly at the sight. “ooh not his sister.” emily muttered out, slapping her hand lightly off of morgan.

when you pulled away he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a small breath. “i love you..”

“i love you too spencer.” you smiled as you pulled away from him, noticing a few sets eyes staring at you both. you let out a small cough to get spencer’s attention, he awkwardly took your hand in his and lead you over to the team.

hotch, morgan and emily stood there, their expressions ranging from curiosity to amusement. hotch shuffled closer pulling you into a quick hug. “it’s great to see you again y/n.” he muttered out, earning a look from emily.

“you knew this whole time-“ she let out a small gasp earning a chuckle from you.

morgan raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “when we’re you going to tell us, pretty boy?”

spencer who had been standing to the side, his hand around your waist spoke up. “well i wasn’t exactly going to keep in a secret forever..you would have found out eventually.” he admitted, signalling down to your stomach.

you rested your hand on the bump, earning a sweet gasp from emily. “oh my god a little baby reid!” she exclaimed, before pulling you both into a quick hug.

just then, agent rossi entered the room and noticed the gathering. "what's all the commotion?" he asked, curiosity evident in his eyes.

morgan grinned. "pretty boy here was keeping secrets. he's got a baby on the way."

rossi's eyes widened in surprise before softening into a warm smile. "congratulations, reid. you're going to make a great father."

spencer blushed slightly and nodded his thanks. as the team settled into quieter conversations, the tension in the room began to ease.

hotch, ever the leader, stepped forward. "alright, everyone, we need to stay focused. our families are here to stay safe, but we still have a job to do. let's regroup and make sure we catch this unsub before he gets any closer."

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid @khxna

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #emily prentiss #derek morgan #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

luvnoirs · 6 months

Text

quiet

paring: paige x fem!reader synopsis: reader and paige almost get caught by azzi warning(s): smut (MINORS DNI) word count: 978

a/n: this is barely proofread btw

"paige! if you don't open this fucking door, i swear to god!"

the room almost fell silent. your soft whimpers escaped through the hand paige held clamped over your mouth as she drove her fingers in and out of your pussy so excruciatingly slow that it made you squirm under her touch. her other hand was occupied with holding your thigh and pinning it down towards the bed, making sure your shaky legs stayed open and around her head comfortably.

azzi continued yelling from the opposite side of the locked door, but everything she said went in one ear and out the other. you could barely even comprehend the english coming out of her mouth right now.

though, you did remember azzi saying something about a phone when she first interrupted you two about a couple minutes ago. at first, you were alarmed, of course, and immediately started to push at paige's shoulders that rested between your thighs, but she simply and quietly reassured you that her door was locked, and told you to remain quiet before latching her tongue onto your clit. you couldn't help but to let out a small moan in response, explaining paige's hand over your mouth.

"paige, stop ignoring me and let me in! seriously, i cant find my phone and i think i left it on your dresser." azzi banged on the door once again and twisted the door knob impatiently. she was getting more annoyed by the second and part of you glanced towards the door, worried she would bust the door down each time her hard fists met the white decorated door.

normally, you wouldn't even dare to have sex in the presence of anyone else besides paige, but something about azzi being just feet away from you spread out across her best friend's bed, legs apart with paige eating you out as if her life depended on it, made you even more aroused. your skin felt like it was burning on paige's purple sheets and as you turned your attention back to between your legs, you were met with paige's eyes already on yours.

she looked at you curiously, slowly moving her hand away from your mouth. she raised her eyebrow, like she was challenging you to remain quiet without her help.

and it didn't help that she switched the angle of her fingers and used the tip of her tongue to flick back and forth on your already throbbing clit, evoking your hips to jerk up against her face as you cried out her name. your hand immediately flew to your face to cover your mouth, swallowing up the rest of your moans. you could feel paige's lips smirk against you, but as much as you wanted to swipe the smirk off her face, the need to cum was much stronger.

"paige!"

you used one hand to reach out for her head and pushed her deeper into you. you couldn't speak, so you were glad she took the hint to speed things up.

her lips latched onto your clit and she started to suck, her fingers still stretching you out, moving quickly through the slick juices that leaked from your pussy. but it wasn't long before she moved her hands to around the top of your thighs and pulled you into her face even more. your muffled cries filled the silent room and your legs tightened around her head as you imagined her talking you through it like she usually does.

there you go, ma... just like that

you rode into her face until you felt your orgasm rushing from the pit of your stomach, to washing all over your shaking body. you bit down on your hand to hold back a string of moans that threatened to fall from your lips, a few tears slipping down your cheeks from the overstimulating sensations of each one of paige's touches. you felt everything; from her hands that held the flesh of your thighs, massaging them softly, and her mouth helping you ride of your orgasm, even her blue eyes that roamed over your body as you arched your back and stared at the ceiling with glossy eyes.

and when your body slumped against the bed, bones feeling like jello, is when paige lifted her head and shuffled her body to position over yours. her lips were gleaming with your juices but she met yours with a kiss anyways. it was honestly a miracle that you managed to stay relatively quiet, you thanked your sore hand for that.

but before you two could do anything else, another loud bang startled you two and paige groaned in annoyance as she pulled away.

"i'll do this all day if i have to!"

you nudged paige and gestured your head towards the door. she rolled her eyes and climbed off the the bed, looking on her dresser for the phone azzi spoke about for these past few minutes. and once she found it, she began to reach for it but paused and reached for a tissue instead. you held back a laugh as paige used the tissue to grab the phone instead of using her previously occupied fingers.

paige opened the door, but only wide enough so that she could fit her head and hand through, handing her the phone.

"you would lose your head if it wasn't attached to your neck." paige said.

before azzi could retort back, she caught a glimpse of the tissue and stared at paige's hand for a few seconds, then back at the blonde inquisitively. it was when azzi slowly took the phone from her grasp when it finally clicked for her, and a disgusted look replaced her confused one.

"oh, you guys are sick." azzi gagged and quickly wiped her phone with her shirt in disgust.

"you're welcome to watch next time." paige joked with a smirk, earning a hit to the head from a pillow you aimed at her.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #wbb #wlw

2K notes · View notes

noctuaism · 2 months

Text

When it’s time for his daughter to get her vaccinations it’s Satoru who almost starts crying more than his daughter. Your daughter is notably more composed than your husband who looks at your daughter like she’s about to disappear on spot.

“Do we have to do this?” he asks for what you think is tenth time. “I can protect her. I’ll keep my infinity on and then she won’t have to worry about bacteria or viruses or boys.” He says the last one with a shiver like it’s the worst possible thing on the list.

“Yes she has to get her shots,” you say, not bothering to look up at him. You already know he’s pouting. Instead, you keep your eyes on your daughter, secured to the car seat between you and Satoru. Gently you run your finger over your daughter’s cheek. She gives you a wide, toothless smile that has your heart clenching. It was hard to believe that she was just in your belly just over two months ago. She was growing up so fast. “And no you can’t keep your infinity up forever, you’ll burn your brain out.”

The man continues to mutter anxiously, only worsening your own anxiety. You hated seeing your baby cry no less than he did.

“What if I hollow purple—” he starts again and you send him a withering look, feeling a little bad when he gives you an anxious look. Fatherhood is possibly the only thing that has ever made Gojo Satoru second guess himself. You reach over and gently squeeze his hand, both an apology for the harsh look and for reassurance, and watch as his face softens. He squeezes your hand back before taking his turn at entertaining your little baby.

The rest of ride to the hospital is filled with your baby gurgling joyfully at her father as he makes silly faces at her.

When you finally reaching the hospital, you thank Ichiji and drag Satoru away before he can give the poor man a hard time. Satoru holds the car seat in his hand, the shades on the carrier drawn over to protect your baby from the Sun. You hold the hand that isn't occupied with the carrier, squeezing it for reassurance, as you make your way into the building.

Times seems to fly from there, from the moment you approach the front desk and finish filling out the forms to finally hearing your family name being called.

The nurse gives the both of you a soft, reassuring smile seemingly accustomed to the anxiety of new parents. As she leads you to the back of office she reassures the both of you that this appointment would be quick and easy. She gives a practiced debrief of the vaccines your baby would receive. Satoru takes it upon himself to be a little obnoxious with the questions he asks and she shows no irritation towards him, taking everything in stride.

3 shots. This would not be easy.

You really didn't want to hear your baby cry. You turn your head to your husband who has an unusual, grim look on his face. You try your best to remind yourself that this was for your daughters health and wellbeing. The quicker this was done, the faster the both you could go home and take care of her.

After being seated in the room, the only thing left to do was wait for the doctor. The loud crying of babies from the other room left you feeling uneasy. You watch as Satoru takes her out of the carrier to hold her up in his arms. You soften at the sight. Your two loves.

It reminds you that despite all the fears that Satoru had shared with you about fatherhood, he fell into the role quickly and with little stumble. He was as good at being a Father as he was at anything else. You lay your head on his shoulder, watching your daughter's eyes flutter in the warmth of her father. You wish she'd be this small forever. You think you could fall asleep like this, despite your surrounding. To the feeling of Satoru's lips on your forehead and your daughter tucked safely in his arms.

The little moment is broken by a short knock on the door and doctor's head peaking into the room. You sit up straight preparing yourself. The doctor briefly introduces herself as she makes her way in followed by a nurse.

"I trust that you understand what this entails," she says. "I can go over it again if you need."

"How bad is this going to hurt her?" Your husband asks, his voice taking on a serious he usually doesn't show. You watch as the nurse sets out the three syringes onto the table, each with a translucent cap.

"I will not lie to you, Gojo-san, this will be uncomfortable. The faster we get this done, the easier it will be on her." Her voice is calm. "However, I also cannot say what side effects may occur or may not occur at all." She gets up to wash her hands in the sink before putting on some gloves. "Please place her on the exam table."

"I might have to hollow purple this place."

"What was that, sir?"

"Nothing."

Satoru gives her the fakest smile you've ever seen on his face while gently laying your baby down. He gently smoothes her unruly, white hair and doesn't let go of her hand. You join him at his side, running your hands down her arm, watching as she turns and bends to look at you. Her gummy smile reminds you so much of Satoru, so full of joy and happiness. You really carried her for nine months for her to be a carbon copy of her father.

"Okay, we're gonna count to three and administer one to each thigh," you nod, steeling yourself. "One, Two, Three..."

Your daughter wails and the shots are done just like that. The doctor and the nurse work quickly and efficiently, caping the used needles. Her piercing cries hurt your heart and you take her into your arms rocking her, trying your best to calm her down. Satoru, on the other hand, looks as though he wants to throw hands with the doctor, the glare behind his dark glasses is harsh.

"I know, baby, I know," you cajole, trying to get her to stop crying. Her crying continues for a while and you give your husband a little helpless look. He catches on quickly and gently takes her from your arms, taking his turn at rocking her against him.

"We're never doing this again," he says. Your daughter finally starts to calm a little. Tears continue to stream down her face but she no longer wails in pain. You wipe her face with your hand, smoothing your hand on her cheek. Your throat feels tight.

The rest of the time from the hospital back to your house is a blur. Your daughter sleeps safely in her nursery having been lulled to sleep from all the crying and some milk.

The both of you are sat on the couch in the living room. The baby monitor placed on the coffee table in front of you. Satoru is in your arms, his head buried in your neck. You sat in his lap, gently combing your hands through his hair. You had two babies to take care of.

"I hated that," he says, a little whiny. "Can we never do that again?"

"She's gonna have to get more no matter what we do."

"If I get rid of every vaccine produced ever and the companies making them, we'll never have to do this again." The statement is ridiculous and is enough to make you laugh which has him whining into you neck again.

"I'M SERIOUS DON'T LAUGHT AT ME." Which only serves to make you giggle harder. You place a kiss on his forehead.

"You're a good father you know," you say, directing the conversation in another direction instead of the doom of pharmaceutical companies at the hands of Gojo Satoru. "She's lucky to have you."

"Of course she is, I'm THE Gojo—" you place your hand over his mouth cutting his bragging short. You take your hand away once you're sure he's not gonna say anything silly. And before he has a chance to lick it.

"I'm being serious."

"You really think so?"

"I know so."

You think back to the conversation you had before your daughter was born. The one where Satoru had spilled his heart out, confiding his fears of being a bad and absent father. You remember being in a similar position as you are now, seated in his lap and running a hand through his hair. You felt him squeeze your waist in the same way, one that told you that despite pretending he didn't need it, even the strongest needed comfort.

"I love you, sweetheart," he murmurs. "Thank you for everything."

"I love you too, toru."

Your lips lock in a soft, gentle kiss. He was your everything and more. The silence between you both is sweet and comfortable as you bask in each other warmth.

Silence, however, never lasts long in the Gojo household. Especially when it comes to Gojo Satoru.

"So what do you say about practicing for our second?"

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #had me crying while I wrote this ngl #im actually so soft for him #yall dont understand hes my everything #i love him you guys #gojo x female reader

1K notes · View notes

yawnderu · 9 months

Text

Price shares everything with his boys. Gear, masks, eye black, weapons, ammo... you name it. So when he's informed he'll have to be away for the holidays, what kind of man would he be if he doesn't share his wife too?

Having known Simon before he became Ghost, John knows how much he struggles with the holidays even years later. It takes a little bit of convincing, telling Simon about his wife and how great she is, reassuring him that she'd be more than happy to have him there as long as he takes care of her needs. Every single one of them.

It started innocently, really, it did. Simon wasn't one for affection, but he found himself sitting closer to you on the couch, arm draped over your shoulder as you cuddled up to him. Simon never knew this much warmth, this level of intimacy and closeness was something foreign to him, muscles so tensed up cuddling with him felt like holding a boulder with arms.

Once his brain realized he was safe, he dared to be touchier. Starting the cuddles himself, holding you close while some show was playing on the background, muffling the lewd sounds coming out of your lips as his long fingers moved inside your wet cunt, his thumb rubbing on your swollen clit.

''That's it...'' He whispers right into your ear as soon as he feels your walls tighten on his fingers, needier and whinier moans leaving your lips as he helps you ride out your orgasm, giving you time to breathe before his hand goes up to your mouth, letting you suck your own cum out of his long fingers before pulling you in for a kiss. His tongue wraps around yours, free hand coming down to rub your needy cunt again until you whine out, holding his wrist and breaking away from the kiss.

''Need more.'' You almost plead as you look up at him, noticing the hesitation dancing on his eyes before he gives in to the desire that has been building up for almost a month. His mouth claims yours again, helping you lay down on the couch while his hands fumble with his belt, barely managing to unbuckle it once he feels his knuckles make contact with your wet pussy.

''Tell me I can have you.'' He's short of begging, brown eyes looking down at you and trying to find any hints of hesitation in your eyes, finding none at all. He manages to pull his hard cock out, laying it down on your stomach while planting soft kisses all over your neck, allowing you to see how deep he'll be inside you. He's big, as you expected, but you're not backing down.

''I'm all yours.'' For now, at least. He adjusts himself to be able to rub the tip of his cock over your folds, a small smile on his lips when he hears your whiny moan at the sensitivity. He sinks into you slowly, giving you time to feel and adjust to every single inch of his cock before he starts moving inside you, lips firmly planted on yours while he begins to pick up the pace.

The sounds of your combined moans and groans and the slapping of skin on skin has you both so distracted that you don't even notice the door opening, the man sneaking on both of you and watching the sinful scene with a smirk pulling on his lips.

''I see you've been busy.'' You tense up and Simon stops his thrusts, about to pull out until your husband speaks again.

''No, no. Keep going.'' There's some hesitancy in Simon as he looks up at Price, waiting until the man gives him a small nod and a reassuring smile before he resumes his thrusts, going deeper and harder than before, not wanting to disappoint his captain.

Your half-lidded eyes are set on your husband, looking at the way he starts to remove his gear, feeling the stress peel off of him as each kilo of heavy equipment comes off of his exhausted body. He turns around to give you a small smile in return, nodding his head once in acknowledgement before he sits down on the couch, legs spread and one hand rubbing his clothed cock up and down. Your body belongs to Simon for now, but your mind is reeling now that your husband is back, looking better than ever even when he's covered in dirt and sweat.

Simon's hand gently clasps your jaw to get your attention back to him, looking deep into your eyes before he's claiming your lips again, thrusts now being slower and deeper, much more passionate. He's not fucking you, he's making love to you while your husband watches. Like a conditioned dog, the sound of John's pants unbuttoning almost gets your attention back on him until Simon's cock hits your spongy cervix, dragging a whorish moan right out of your throat.

''Focus on me.'' He whispers, his words nothing short of an order as he keeps hitting that spot over and over, mind reeling at the way your eyes roll back and your cunt tightens up around him. He's close too, hand coming down between your sweaty bodies just for his thumb to rub your puffy clit in circles. You can hear your husband's footsteps, yet you're too far gone to even look at him no matter how much you missed him.

Simon's stimulation becomes too much as your orgasm washes over you, legs hooking on his waist to pull him even closer as your lips meet again, feeling his fat cock throb inside you as he goes all the way inside you, shooting ropes of sticky cum into your needy cervix. You only break away from the kiss once his head gets pulled back by John, too fucked out to even register the warm cum shooting down all over your face.

3K notes · View notes

shockercoco · 5 months

Text

Consequences

Austin butler x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, riding, P in V, overstimulation, dirty talk, jealous!Austin

Word count - 2925 (I didn't intend for this to be 3k words lol)

a/n - request: “Hi! Please can you write an Austin butler x fem reader smut where he's jealous after watching her film a sex scene and he shows her how it's done? Maybe he's a bit cocky as well because he knows that only he can make her moan?” - loved this ty, I hope you enjoy :)

“They need everyone back on set in ten minutes,” you hear your assistant tell you from outside of your trailer door, interrupting your inner turmoil.

“Okay,” you tell her, and you hear her walk away as you go back to your thoughts.

You had been pacing back and forth inside your trailer for the majority of your lunch break thinking about your upcoming scene. It was a sexual scene that included you having to be practically naked in a bed with your male co-star.

When you had accepted the role you knew what it entailed, but back then the intimacy part of the script seemed so minor, and you had brushed past it. Given the fact that this wouldn’t be your first time shooting this type of scene, you really shouldn’t be stressing out. During those past roles, though, you hadn’t been dating Austin so it was simple and wasn’t awkward. It’s also not like Austin would have a problem with you doing this either because he trusts you – after all intimate scenes are a big part of the movie industry.

The intimacy coordinator had talked to both you and your co-star Matthew separately to inform you guys on what was expected. You also knew you could always say no, and you would probably be replaced with a body double, but that didn’t do anything to calm your nerves.

Figuring enough time had passed, you exited your trailer and headed back to set where the makeshift bedroom was already set. You saw Matthew in a robe matching yours standing off to the side getting some final touch-ups from one of the makeup artists. He gives you a small smile when he notices you walking in before turning his attention back to the woman in front of him.

You and Matthew had grown close over the past couple of months, which isn’t unusual because you were both the lead actors, and he seemed like a nice person –at least from what you’ve gotten to see. Austin would always tell you Matthew was too nice to you each time he visited you on set, but you never saw it and would tell him that you would be okay. Austin is a persistent man and didn’t deter from his theory, therefore, he would always eye Matthew and keep you in eyesight. You would just silently laugh to yourself when you saw Austin behind the camera eyeing Matthew.

“Matthew’s my friend so this shouldn’t be too awkward. This will all be over before I know –,” you think to yourself, but your thoughts are interrupted when someone taps you on the shoulder from behind. You turn around to see Austin there smiling at you.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” you smile back at him as he brings you in for a hug with a quick kiss on your cheek.

“It was a last minute decision. I had to attend a meeting not too far from here, so I thought I’d stop by. I hope that’s okay,” Austin tells you as you lean back to look up at him.

“Of course it is, I was just surprised.”

“What scene are you filming?” he asks you as you two pull away. That’s when he notices the bed sitting in the middle of the room and your robe. “Oh.”

You cringe a little. “It’s just a quick sex scene, you know how it is. It’ll be over before you know it,” you try to reassure him as his eyes find Matthew.

“Yeah, but it’s with him,” he makes a face.

“I don’t get to choose my co-star, Austin. There’s only a couple more weeks of filming, and then we don’t have to see him again until the movie premiere,” you grab onto his arm for him to look at you. He finally tears his eyes away from your co-star to look at you again. He rolls his eyes, not at you, and gives you a nod.

Your assistant comes up to you to tell you that the director is ready to start the scene. You give Austin one last look before going with her and walking into the fake bedroom, Matthew joining you. Crew members start moving around to make sure everything is ready to go, and the assistant director comes over to put you and Matthew into position, followed by the intimacy coordinator.

You take off your robe underneath the covers, not wanting to reveal yourself too much. Nipple stickers cover the top of you while a skin-colored pad is attached to your lower half. Matthew also has something to cover his manhood.

Once everything is in order, the crew members start filing behind the camera. Austin is also behind the camera standing to the side with his arms folded and jaw tense.

“You okay?” Matthew whispers next to you, and you give him a quick nod. He’s currently laying on his side looking down at you. “I see your boyfriend came to cheer you on.”

You’re not sure how to respond so you just smile at him.

“Just imagine me as shrek or something,” he jokes, making you laugh in response.

“I was planning on it.”

When the lights dim and the director yells action, Matthew doesn’t hesitate to lean down to kiss you, putting his hands on your waist. Austin watches everything from his place behind the camera.

Safe to say Austin wasn’t a fan of the whole process. Austin watched everything from his spot behind the camera – the way Matthew touched and held you, and the sounds falling out of your mouth as you held onto him. There was also more than one take, which made Austin even more agitated and tense. He couldn’t help but wonder if Matthew was getting turned on or if he was messing up on purpose.

Both you and Austin were relieved when the director called it a day, and luckily that was the only intimate scene that had to be filmed. When you got up from the bed and put on your robe, with the help of your assistant, you saw the look on Austin’s face. You thought it was best to avoid eye contact.

The car ride back to Austin’s house didn’t involve much talking, and when you finally entered the house he was still silent. You decided to take a shower, to wash the day off and to give Austin time to cool down. Seeing that the sun is long gone, you prepare for bed — filming took longer than expected. As you walk out of the bathroom connected to the room you shared with Austin, you notice him already in bed on his phone, appearing to have already showered.

He probably used one of the guest room bathrooms, which isn’t uncommon of him, but given the situation you just find it extremely petty. You can’t help but laugh at Austin’s attitude, but then again you wouldn’t be too happy either watching him have pretend sex with another girl, which is why you try to avoid joining him on set during those days.

As you climb into bed next to him, he doesn’t even glance at you as he continues to check his emails. You sigh dramitically, hoping to get his attention, as you look at the clock on the nightstand displaying eleven o’clock. Still nothing.

“Austin,” you say, trying to get him to look at you, but he just gives you a hum in response. You call his name again and he just raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to say something else.

“Are you really going to be upset all night?” You ask him.

“I’m not upset.”

“Are you sure because I’m pretty sure this is what upset looks like,” you point at his solemn face.

He looks over at you pointing at him, still with a plain face, before looking back down at his phone. You roll your eyes at his pettiness as an idea pops in your idea.

“Is there anything I can do to make it better, at least?” You ask sweetly, even though none of this is your fault, hoping that a little pillow talk will help him get over this. A mischievous smirk grows on his lips before he finally tears his attention away from his phone, placing it aside to look you in your eyes.

“You know, there actually is something you could do,” he says, making you want to rescind your offer at his eagerness.

“What is it?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

He motions for you to sit on his lap by patting his thigh, but doesn’t wait for you to say anything as he grabs your hips to pull you onto his lap to straddle him. He forces your hips down against him causing you to hold back a moan, your thin panties allowing you to feel him grow hard through his sweatpants. Keeping his grip on your hips firm, he then begins rocking your hips back and forth, forcing you to grind down. You place your hands on his chest before gripping the fabric of his t-shirt as your eyes begin to flutter.

“You know what, maybe I am upset,” he leans to whisper into your ear. A shiver runs through your body from the feeling as he continues, “I’m upset that I stood there and watched the way your co-star enjoyed fake fucking you, and after all this time you still don’t see the way he looks at you.”

“He’s acting, Austin, that’s what his role entails.”

Austin pulls away from your ear and looks you in the eye to say,” So he’s still acting even when the director calls cut?”

“He’s just a friend, I promise,” you whine out as you begin to feel arousal pool out of you and form a spot on your panties. Your answer doesn’t bring Austin any comfort.

“This is exactly what i’m talking about, you don’t see it,” he shakes his head at you and removes his hands from you. “Lift up.”

Confused, you listen and lift your hips to hover above his lap, only for Austin to shimmy his sweatpants down his legs enough for his underwear to be revealed and to pull his hard length out. He then takes the lead and pulls your underwear to the side, grabs himself in one hand, pulls you down a little, and begins to rub himself against your slit. You both groan at the feeling – him at your wetness, and you at his teasing with your knees already growing weak.

“You’re going to take a seat and ride until I’ve had enough,” he tells you, knowing well enough that you weren’t a huge fan of riding.

You didn’t enjoy taking control, and you would always get tired too quickly, which encouraged Austin to take matters into his own hands and thrust into you until you were overstimulated — not that you didn’t enjoy all of that, you just rather be on the bottom.

You nod before lowering yourself onto him until you’re completely full, taking a moment to take in the feeling before beginning to move. Austin tilts his head up with a sigh, his lips slightly parted at the feeling of your warm, rigid walls swallowing and releasing him repeatedly.

Your hands are on his shoulders now, gripping tightly, using him to help stabilize you. Keeping his grip on your hips firm, Austin looks down at the space between you two, watching as his length continues to disappear and reappear. Your eyes join his gaze and whimper at the sight.

As expected you feel your legs quickly growing tired, so you lean forward to hide your face in Austin’s neck, using him to place some of your weight on.

“Oh, no. I want you to look at me,” he tells you.

“Austin,” you whine as you move your head away from him. One of the hands on your hips moves to your jaw, forcing your eyes onto his blue ones. His stare sends a wave of warmth to your center, his unpleasant mood turning you on, bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem earlier when you had Matthew grinding on you,” he states. He drags his thumb across your lip, tugging it down before releasing it.

“You know it’s not like that,” you tell him breathlessly as you shake your head. He continues staring into your eyes without responding to you.

Austin finally breaks that contact when he goes to take off your shirt, revealing your bare chest. He leans down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking and twirling his tongue around your nipple, and eventually moving to the other. He brings his hands up to your back, bringing you closer to him. This just sends another wave of pleasure through your body, making it harder to keep your rhythm strong.

You whimper as you look down at him getting lost in his own world, and that’s just enough to make you tumble over the edge. You squeeze his shoulders and let out a cry as a strong rush of pleasure flows through your body and down to your cunt. With his mouth still connected to your breast, Austin can’t help but moan at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, causing a shiver to run through your body. He smirks to himself as he watches you fall apart above him.

He doesn’t let you or himself recover, though, as he flips you onto your back. He pulls his sweatpants, and underwear the rest of the way down his legs before pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it. He then proceeds to rip your thin panties and toss them aside, too impatient and needy to take them off the correct way. He goes to hover you and quickly sinks into you with a moan before pounding into you with intensity, trying to chase his own high.

Still sensitive and not completely over your previous orgasm, your next one comes almost instantly at Austin’s rapid pace. This one is definitely more intense and as you open your mouth to let something out, you’re met with silence, leaving your mouth hanging open and your eyes closed as you toss your head back and release around him a second time.

Feeling your walls close around him once again, Austin cums with a deep moan as his head dips down. He never stops thrusting into you, just slows down, as you feel his warm load shoot into you. This prolongs your high and brings you into overstimulation as your back arches, and you finally find your voice to let out a sob as your body continues to quiver and shake. Just when you think he’s going to stop, Austin speeds back up into you, making you place your hands on his waist to grip down.

“Please,” you whimper, wanting to tell him to stop with the continuous torture, but you’re enjoying it too much. He just laughs above you.

“What’s wrong, huh? Too much?” he teasingly asks, but you don’t have the energy to answer. He looks down at the spot you two are connected to see the remains of your orgasm pooling out and onto the sheets below. He watches as your flow of arousal coats him as he continues to plunge into you.

“It can’t be too much, I mean you seem to be loving it too much,” he removes your hands from his body and holds them in his hands as he leans down onto his elbows. You're caged in as he pins your arms to your side. Austin rubs his nose against yours to bring you back to reality, watching as your eyes find his.

“Austin, baby,” you breathe out.

“Austin, baby what?” he asks with a tilt of his head, knowing he has you right where he wants you. He leans down a little to spit into your already parted mouth.

You don’t respond, you can’t respond as you continue taking him in. Your body is on fire, and you can feel your walls constantly clenching down around him.

“You don’t want me to stop, right? I mean there’s no way,” he smiles. “It seems like she doesn’t want me to stop either,” he says referring to your cunt releasing a squelching sound with each thrust from how soaked it is.

What comes out of your mouth next is nothing but a blabbering mess as you give into him, feeling drool – or his saliva – coming out the side of your mouth. You feel more of your wetness run out of you at his dirty talk, before feeling yourself unexpectedly cumming again. You release for the third time with a shriek as you dig your nails into his hands.

When Austin feels himself coming to his second orgasm, he quickly pulls out before jerking himself off the rest of the way. He shoots his sticky load onto your stomach, marking you as his. You feel yourself clench around nothing, your cunt so used to him diving into it.

Austin uses his finger to swipe some of his remains up from your stomach, and then places his finger on your lips, wanting you to open. You bring him into your mouth before tasting and sucking his finger while looking him in his eyes.

“You better stop before we go again,” he looks down at you, already feeling himself growing hard.

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #austin butler x you #smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha

1K notes · View notes

les4elliewilliams · 28 days

Text

❝SHE’S A MANEATER!❞ – 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

LOSER!ELLIE ﾒ MEAN!READER

❝OH-OH HERE SHE COMES WATCH OUT, GIRL, SHE’LL CHEW YOU UP!❞

ᝰ.ᐟ ⌞SUMMARY⌝﹕After bumping into you on her first day of college, Ellie spends the entire year captivated by you from a distance. You're everything she could never be—popular, wealthy, and effortlessly alluring, with a perfect, disgustingly rich family to match. Convinced she didn’t stand a chance, Ellie resigns herself to watching from the sidelines. But when her best friend Dina suggests they work at a public pool for the summer, Ellie agrees, hoping to save up some money. What she never expected was to find you there, commanding the space with a magnetic, dangerous charm that pulls her in. Now, Ellie’s summer is about to take a turn she never saw coming, and she’s about to find out just how close she can get to you before it all falls apart.

✶.ᐟ ⌞THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS⌝﹕ approx 12.8k words⨾ cursing⨾ angst⨾ mention of drugs⨾ reader being a bitch for no reason⨾ 18+ CONTENT (porn with plot)⨾ fingering (𝑒!receiving)⨾ tribbing⨾ thigh riding (r!receiving)⨾ coworker!ellie⨾ dom!reader⨾ fem!reader⨾ player!reader x loser!ellie⨾ slapping⨾ jealousy issues⨾ overstimulation⨾ choking kink⨾ use of names (dollface, sweet/pretty girl, baby, babe, slut, etc...)⨾ ‘i love the smiths’ scene⨾ ellie loves spiderman boxers💔⨾ they 69 on a big canvas???⨾ lmk if i missed anything!

.ᐟ.ᐟ ⌞AUTHOR´S NOTE⌝﹕i've decided it's going to be three parts instead :p i also wanted to say thank you for all the support on part one i appreciate it sososo much mwahmwah🫦. proofread by @sapphichotmess!!

#.ᐟ ⌞TAGLIST⌝﹕@pick-me-up-im-scared @rew1nds @aouiaa @satellitespinner @boobdrug @ivying @elliewilliamsbelovedwife @mina-281 @hysteriawillnotsuccumb @chxrryvalxntine @bookpagecandlescent @fionaapplelover2010 @andersonslove @macaroni676 @elliesbabygirl @vampcubus @visupremacysstuff @elssaphica [comment to be added!]

#.ᐟ ⌞CHAPTERS⌝ ↯

˗ˏˋ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ⋆ 𝕥𝕨𝕠 ⋆ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ˎˊ˗

palestine masterpost ⋆ read this ⋆ daily clicks

8th of August.

You and Ellie spent almost every day together, hanging out and spending time together without a care in the world. However, the way you acted when you were around other people, as if you hadn’t been spending time together in private, bothered Ellie. Alone, you were a completely different person—affectionate, clingy, and seemingly unable to keep your hands off her. Logically, she assumed you weren’t exceptionally comfortable showing affection publicly, and she understood that. Still, it stung each time you rejected her, even for something as simple as holding hands in public.

No pet names allowed, no subtle touches, no little gestures of affection—nothing. It hurt Ellie deeply, but she tried to convince herself that it was normal. After all, not everyone was comfortable with PDA, and you had told her that you weren’t ready yet. You had only been together for a few weeks, so it made sense. Every time you pulled away in public, you would notice the change in Ellie’s demeanor, the way she’d go quiet and distant. You’d try to comfort her, soothing her with your words, calling her your girl, and showering her with compliments and affectionate whispers. It worked; it always worked. She’d soften in your arms, her pissy mood disappearing as you reassured her. Ellie couldn’t help it, falling for your charm every damn time.

The auburnette knew that you meant everything you said; she knew you genuinely wanted her just as much as she wanted you. Whenever you had to reassure her, Ellie felt guilty, pushy, and selfish for even bringing it up. She would tell herself that it was okay, that she could wait for you to be ready. After all, it wasn’t a big deal, and who was she to rush you into something you weren’t comfortable with? She could be patient.

Being with you was enough for her. Ellie was so damn grateful to have you by her side. She still couldn’t wrap her head around how she went from admiring you from a distance to being with you every fucking day. She could feel you, touch you, and memorize every inch of your body with the rough, calloused palms of her hands. Her heart would flutter, and the butterflies in her stomach would go wild at every pet name you had for her, every sweet word, every compliment, every touch.

Everything you had to give, she took it all greedily. The sage-eyed girl knew she was lucky as hell to have you, lucky that you finally let her in, let her get to know you. The more she discovered about you, the more she liked you. Each detail that came out about your personality made her want to be around you every second of the day. It was like she was addicted, hooked on every little thing that made you who you are. And she couldn’t get enough, feeling like some sort of lovesick idiot.

So she’d wait as long as it took. It was going to be worth it in the end.

Ellie tried to brush those thoughts aside, but they were like an unwelcome guest in the back of her mind. Now that you were there, in her room, none of those concerns mattered anymore. Instead, she focused on the way your lips pressed against her skin, little smacking sounds filling her ears.

Sweet, damp kisses trailed along Ellie’s jawline as your hand eagerly squeezed the fat of her ass, making her whimper into your mouth. You found it endearing how sensitive and responsive she was to your touch. You could get her dripping wet with no effort at all, and she was so fucking loud and so easy to play with. You loved every second of it.

The sensation of her soft skin under your fingertips, the way she involuntarily arched her back under your touch as you pleasured her just right—it was addictive.

You pushed her back towards the bed, your hands roaming her body hungrily as she stumbled over her sneakers, which lay discarded on the floor. You giggled, lips detaching from her neck just long enough to capture her mouth again. Ellie’s slender fingers tangled in your hair, a smile stretching across her face at your soft laugh.

Your hands remained glued to Ellie’s body, refusing to let go, gently skimming your hands over her waist and sides, your fingertips tracing along her bare skin in a soothing motion. Her body molded effortlessly to yours, every curve and line fitting perfectly against you.

Ellie was convinced you were made for her, crafted together by some higher power. In your arms, she felt like the center of your universe, making her feel special and desired. The cinnamon-haired girl loved being the recipient of your unwavering adoration, a privilege not everyone was fortunate enough to experience. You were everything she could ever want or need, her perfect match in every way.

Ellie’s freckled back sunk into the soft surface of her mattress as you straddled her, claiming your spot on top of her. Her hands ran over your body with an almost desperate touch, as if they had never touched another human being before. She gripped and gently clawed at your flesh, unable to get enough of the feel of you underneath her fingertips, fearing that you might evaporate or disappear into thin air. It was too good to be true. Even she struggled to believe someone like you would sneak around with someone like her.

The kiss became a mess of open mouths and tangled tongues, both of you becoming more and more desperate with each passing second. Finally, you pulled away, both of you panting and out of breath, your lips swollen and sensitive from the never-ending connection. “You sure he won’t be back anytime soon?” you asked, your lips hovering just an inch from hers.

Ellie’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze meeting yours as she took a deep, shaky breath. “Joel’s staying at my uncle’s for dinner,” She reassured, her breathing ragged and uneven and her face flushed as red as a ripened strawberry from the intensity of the kiss.

A subtle, self-satisfied smirk played at the corners of your mouth as you hovered above her, your forearms resting on either side of Ellie’s head. You found yourself entranced by the sunlight pouring in through the windows, casting a warm, golden glow across her face, highlighting all of her best features—everything, basically. The sight of her was like gazing upon a masterpiece, each freckle and sun-kissed spot a deliberate brushstroke that came together to form a breathtaking work of art. Her beauty was nothing short of enchanting, like a Claude Monet painting coming to life before your very eyes, and she wasn’t even aware. No work of art could compare to the beauty of the girl under you.

“So we can be as loud as we want,” You whispered in her ear, the low timber of your voice sending delicious shivers down her spine.

You continued to pepper kisses along her jawline, savoring the unique taste of her skin. You took your time, slowly trailing your lips down her body, determined to give each inch the same amount of attention and love. Ellie let out a small gasp as your mouth tenderly traced across her skin, her fingers gently running through your hair to keep it out of your face, fingers lingering on your scalp. Her thigh pressed between your legs, creating just enough space for her to slide her knee against your center, the contact eliciting a moan of pleasure from you.

Ellie could never put into words how much pride she felt whenever a soft moan escaped your lips. It was as if she had just created a masterpiece, your sounds of pleasure serving as tangible proof that she had done something right. Every mewl and gasp from your lips filled her with a profound sense of satisfaction, like a child finally getting their drawing just right.

“Oooh, I like that,” A soft, raspy chuckle escaped the auburnette’s lips; she glanced up at you, her pupils dilated, and a broad smile spread across her face, the left side of her mouth forming a deep dimple. The sight was both endearing and incredibly attractive, her features a mix of playfulness and undeniable lust as she struggled to maintain her composure. You were getting her so worked up that it was almost laughable.

Your head tilted down as you met her gaze, eyes locked on her watchful, beautiful forest-green irises. “Like what?” you questioned, continuing to press kisses against the soft skin of her chest, right between her breasts. Your brows furrowed with confusion, your mind consumed by her, causing her question to bounce off the walls of your mind, not quite able to make sense of her words.

“The way you sound,” Ellie purred with a soft, appreciative hum, her fingers trailing lazily along your shoulder.

You pulled away for a moment, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you looked down at her, enjoying the way she looked like a complete wreck beneath you. “Yeah?” you sultry whispered, leaning in closer, your breath hot against her lips. “You ready for me, sweet girl?” A stray lock of your hair dangled between you, and she lifted her hand to tuck it gently behind your ear, her touch light as a whisper against your skin. The action was so natural, so casual, yet it was laced with a sense of intimacy and affection that made your stomach churn for a split second.

“Always ready for you,” Ellie uttered, her voice a breathless confession. And she meant it in every possible way. The redhead was always ready, obediently waiting for your gaze like a loyal dog, ready to be whatever you needed her to be at that moment. Whether it was to be your girlfriend or just a plaything to take your frustrations out on, she was there for you, patiently waiting for you to use her.

You pressed a kiss to Ellie’s lips, soft and lingering, before trailing a path back down to her chest. Your mouth found her hardened nipple, and you latched onto it with a hunger that proved to her how much you had been longing for her. Your tongue danced around her areola, lazy circles that made her shiver and sigh. One of your hands wandered to her other breast, kneading it with a firm yet tender grip. Ellie’s whimpers filled the room, each sound a love song that told you exactly how much she needed you. Her back arched, pushing her chest deeper into the palm of your hand, a desperate plea for more. Ellie’s fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, urging you on.

You switched your attention, your mouth finding her other nipple, lavishing it with the same adoration. “You taste so fucking good,” you murmured against her skin, your voice rough and urgent. She moaned in response, her hips shifting restlessly beneath you, seeking friction, seeking release.

Your hand slid down the moss-eyed girl’s body, fingers dancing across her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. She was already trembling, her breath coming in shallow gasps, her eyes locked on yours, darkening with need. The soft palm of your hand cupped her mound, her trimmed, auburn hair tickling your skin. Your index and middle fingers spread her folds, gathering all the slickness you had created and smearing it up to her clit. It twitched at your touch, throbbing like crazy, almost painfully, making Ellie whine.

She was truly mesmerizing in her neediness and desperation for your touch and attention, enjoying every second of your affections. Her body responded to you as if it were made for you alone by the Gods above.

Your teeth gently grazed her nipple as you pushed two fingers inside her, making her gasp louder this time. Ellie’s hips bucked instinctively, craving more, her body reacting to every touch, every sensation you delivered. And she just took it like a good plaything.

“God, you’re so wet,” you groaned against her skin, your voice thick with desire. “So fucking ready for me.”

“Oh… god,” Breathy moans spilled from her lips, ricocheting off the star-filled wallpaper adorning her room.

You released her nipple with a satisfying ‘pop,’ the little bud glistening with spit. Your mouth found her other nipple standing erect and waiting for your attention, looking a little too lonely for your liking. Her breasts fit your palms perfectly, filling your palms just right. You could see her trying to maintain control but her brain shut down, unable to process anything besides your touch.

Ellie’s nipples were always so responsive, hardening instantly under your touch, and you could feel her entire body quivering with need. You teased her relentlessly, feeling her writhe beneath you, each lick and gentle bite sending jolts of pleasure straight to her needy cunt. You loved the way her breath hitched with every pump of your fingers, her back arching slightly, and her hips bucking into your hand. What a fucking sight.

“Oh, so you believe in God now, huh?” You teased her, your fingers increasing the pace of their movements. She pushed her head back into the pillow, wholly lost in the sensations you were creating. Ellie’s eyes squeezed tight, her dilated pupils no longer able to focus as the pleasure consumed her entirely.

You curled your fingers inside her, brushing against that magical spot, and she gasped, her hands clutching the sheets, her knuckles turning white. You could feel her walls tightening, her whole body tensing as her orgasm built ridiculously quickly. Her breathing was ragged and uneven, the sound of her wetness making you feral. “That it? ‘s that the right spot?” you chuckled.

“Hmmphh—not funny,” Ellie weakly protested, but the attempt was feeble, her words faltering as she tried to sound grumpy. In reality, she was a mess, a moaning, beautiful mess that was falling apart at the seams, unable to form coherent thoughts. The type of mess you loved.

“Baby, look at me,” you commanded softly as your fingers picked up speed, curling upwards to hit that sweet spot inside her again. Her walls clamped down, promising to swallow your digits greedily.

Ellie’s green eyes fluttered open, understanding the silent threat, knowing damn well that if she didn’t, you wouldn’t let her finish and milk your fingers like she had been begging to do all day. Bugging you at work, begging for a quickie in the restroom like usual. You had denied her all day, leaving her desperate and needy.

But there was a reason behind your earlier refusal. And now that she was at your mercy, you intended to make her wait a moment longer.

You pressed your body against her thigh, grinding against it rhythmically as if drawn there by some magnetic force. Your movement was subconscious, automatic, and involuntary, your cunt aching.

“Feeling good, huh?” You said, your voice slightly breathless as you held back a groan that threatened to escape you. You couldn't help but smirk at her frenzied nodding. Shaking your head slowly, you expressed your disapproval with a sharp click of your tongue, clearly unimpressed by her response. “C’mon Els, you can do better than that,” You urged her to use her words, your intention being solely to hear the whiny words only you could coax from her, wanting to savor every little gasp and sigh that fell from her lips like they were your own personal currency.

“Y-yes…yes.” Ellie was completely breathless, and when her walls seemed to squeeze your fingers hungrily, you eagerly complied, burying them inside her. A contented gasp escaped her lips, her mouth hanging open in pure euphoric ecstasy as you brought her closer and closer to her orgasm. You were making her see stars and all the planets above, and this time it wasn’t the cheap plastic stars and planets glued to her ceiling—which did not glow in the dark anymore, much to Ellie's disappointment. What a ripoff. But then again, she didn’t need those when she had you, painting all the wonders of the universe behind her lids.

Ellie’s eyes rolled back, threatening to close again, but she fought against it. She needed to keep her eyes on you, to remember who was making her feel this way. It was you; you, you, and only you. You were all she could think about.

She was so full of you, literally.

“Just like that… keep your eyes on me, gooood girl,” you cooed, “Begging me to touch you like this… what a fucking slut,” your voice dripped with fake disdain, feeling her body coiled with tension as your fingers moved faster and deeper. Your breath hitched as you rode Ellie's toned thigh, your clit throbbing against her soft skin. You could feel your own orgasm building, mirroring hers. Your hips moved faster, seeking that final push, desperate for release.

Ellie whined at your words, soft sobs escaping her lips, filling the air with the sound of her desperation. She was at your mercy, unable to do anything but follow your lead. “Who’s making you feel like this, hm?” Your voice was laced with possessive undertones, making her whimper in response and her clit twitch madly. She loved it when you got possessive of her. The pointed question’s answer was obvious, but you wanted her to say it, to acknowledge the power you wielded over her body and soul.

“You… fuck, you…” You increased the pace, your fingers moving in and out of her with relentless precision, your thumb brushing against her clit, adding to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. Ellie’s back arched off the bed, her body straining towards yours, every muscle taut with anticipation. You could feel her getting closer, her walls tightening around your fingers, her breath hitching with every thrust. “Pleaseplease”

Your wetness coating her thigh filled Ellie with a sense of pride and disbelief. She found it difficult to believe that you liked her, but feeling the evidence of your desire on her skin was undeniable. The thought that she could turn you on in such a way was surreal and hard to wrap her mind around.

“G’na cum on my fingers, dollface?” The pet name and the tone of your voice sent her heart into a flurry of flips and somersaults like a caged bird. She could practically feel the petals of a thousand blooms unfurling in her stomach, each beat of her pulse, another seed taking root.

Despite her tough facade, Ellie was a sucker for compliments and pet names, but only when they came from you. You couldn't miss the way her cheeks would turn cherry red as she blushed, her poker face failing miserably. She was an open book, easy to read and please, and you knew exactly how to get a reaction out of her. Sometimes, it felt like you could read every thought flitting through her mind just by looking into her expressive eyes. Not only were they breathtakingly beautiful, but they conveyed so much without her having to utter a single word.

Ellie’s responses were reduced to whiny “yeahs,” as she struggled to form coherent words. The way your hips rolled smoothly against her thigh elicited a tight clench around your fingers buried deep inside her. Her brows furrowed, and the moans escaping her swollen lips grew higher in pitch, threatening to reach an octave too sharp for your ears. Just as you felt her walls start to pulse, ready to explode, you withdrew your hand, leaving her gasping and aching for more.

Her head lifted weakly from the pillow, her eyes meeting yours with a pouty expression, mirroring the look of a kicked puppy. She was confused and dazed; the pleasure that had been consuming her just moments ago was fading away, leaving her feeling frustrated and unsatisfied. “What, wh-” but before she could start asking questions, you swiftly dismounted her thigh and gently patted her hips before grabbing her legs and pulling her closer.

“Wanna cum on your pussy. Gonna let me do that, yeah?” Though posed as a question, your words were laced with a commanding tone, as if you expected Ellie to comply. She didn’t mind, though; in fact, she found it quite attractive that you were so firm and sure of what you wanted, always in control. And, if there was something the auburnette loved to death, it was feeling your drenched core pulsating against hers, like she could die right there and then, utterly content. So pussy drunk.

Straddling Ellie, you aligned your soaked pussy with hers, a moan escaping her lips before you’d even begun to move. “Oh fuck…” she gasped, her back arching as she ground against you instinctively.

A moan escaped you, followed by a sharp slap to Ellie’s thigh, making her yelp. “Only patient girls get to cum,” you growled, positioning one of her legs over your shoulder. Your arousal dripped down onto her mound, making a mess. Her pussy was so slippery that it almost made it challenging for you to find the perfect angle that would satisfy both of you. You rotated your hips, testing the waters, and after some trial, you elicited a gasp from both of you.

“You feel so good, shit…” Ellie’s hips started to move on their own accord, picking up speed, creating a messy, erratic rhythm. Your nails dug into her toned flesh, leaving tiny half-moons behind as you ground against her at a more steady and controlled pace. She was becoming increasingly desperate, her body aching for the pleasure that you had cruelly taken from her, leaving her feeling frustrated and unfulfilled. “I’m close,” she gasped out.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you threatened, your eyes narrowing in disapproval. Ellie was a mess under you, her head pressed into the pillow and her eyes fluttering shut in bliss. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, drawing blood as she desperately tried to hold back her orgasm. “Hold it.” Your voice grew stern, echoing in the room. Rubbing your clit harshly against hers, you increased your pace, teasing her mercilessly. Smirking, you reveled in her struggle, knowing she was close. “You’ll wait until I say so," you commanded, your breath ragged with desire.

Not even a minute had passed before Ellie was vigorously shaking her head, her big green eyes welling up as they locked onto yours, begging with an adorable pout you knew would remain indefinitely until she got her way. But she wasn’t going to get shit. “I can’t… can’t,” Her whiny tone, desperate and pleading, sent a wave of amusement through you, drawing a bemused chuckle from your throat.

“Does it look like I give a fuck?” Your voice was a low, hissed whisper dripping with devilish intent. You were so close to her face that you could see the desperation in her eyes. The auburnette let out a puppy-like whine as you denied her what she craved. All she could do was lie there, pleading with her eyes and whimpering in frustration. “Gonna be good for me.” And again, it wasn’t a request, it was a statement that left no room for disobedience. “Gonna hold it like a good girl.”

As your thrusts became more insistent, Ellie’s lips parted in a silent gasp, “You cum when I tell you to,” you repeated, emphasizing your words by increasing the speed of your hips. You relished watching her squirm and pant, her breasts bouncing with each movement. She couldn’t hold it anymore, and you knew it. Knowing the power you had over her made it all the better.

Ellie’s body shook uncontrollably, her eyes squeezed shut, tears of pleasure streaming down her cheeks. You could see the conflict in her, the struggle to hold on. To her, it felt like she was about to walk through the gates of heaven, but you denied her that final step.

“P-please…please!” It made you proud, reducing her to nothing but a mess, a sobbing and pleading mess, and she was all yours to take advantage of, to ruin and destroy. A toy to play with. And she would take it all gladly.

Her doe eyes looked up at you pleadingly, begging for your permission, desperate for a sign, anything.

Her mind completely shut off when you were on top of her, your body pressing against hers in a way that made her feel like a virgin all over again. Even though she had experienced sex multiple times before you, it was never like this, so intense, so passionate, with her emotions and thoughts all over the place.

Ellie’s hands gripped your hips tightly. She didn’t know if she wanted to push you away or encourage you to keep going. Her abdomen tensed, holding onto her orgasm just like you had requested. “No, baby. Just wait for me,” your voice dropped to a velvety whisper as you leaned closer, your face mere inches from hers. A few strands of your silken locks found their way between the two of you, caressing her cheekbones and eliciting a slight scrunch of her nose in response. The ticklish sensations only lasted briefly, disappearing as soon as your hand encircled her neck, instantly transforming her expression into a mix of surprise. “Like the way my pussy feels?” Lewd noises filled the auburnette’s messy yet neatly organized room, and she was so loud you were sure the neighbors could hear you.

“It’s so… fuck… so wet,” she babbled between breathless cries and heavenly whimpers. The olive-eyed girl was breathtakingly beautiful as she gave herself over to you, taking everything you gave her with eagerness and lust. “Feel… so good.” Poor thing couldn’t even form proper sentences. Your stomach fluttered at her words, grinding harder and faster, and only after a few seconds, you felt it, too.

“Fuck, fuck,” You cursed under your breath as overwhelming pleasure took over your body, your eyes closing and your head rolling back in ecstasy. Your grasp around her neck became firmer, “Ellie…” The way you cried out her name would’ve been enough to make her cum right on the spot, but she had to hold it like you told her to. “Cum with me, baby. Wanna feel you,”

You didn’t even have to tell her twice. She was already spasming against your core, her puffy clit pulsating like crazy against yours. Between the two of you, Ellie couldn’t tell who was being the loudest, not that it was an issue, considering you were alone and Joel wouldn’t be back until later in the evening.

When you and Ellie came down from your highs, you collapsed beside her. Despite her trying to pull you closer by wrapping her fern-tattooed arm around your waist, you rolled away, still panting and sweating. Her eyes flickered towards you, disappointment etching across her heavenly features, not understanding why you never stayed in bed cuddling after sex, each time hoping it’d be different, but it never was. The exhausted girl was also in disbelief—how could you be so energetic after sex? She will never understand.

“Where you going?” she rasped out, her green eyes never leaving your naked body, scanning your sweaty back to the way your bare chest heaved with each deep breath you took. You could feel her eyes on you, tracing every line and curve of your body. Her disappointment hung in the air, heavy and palpable. You knew she longed for those tender moments after each of your passionate encounters.

“‘M sweating like crazy, gonna shower before your dad comes back,” You padded to her closet as if the space were your own, your steps soft on the carpeted floor. You riffled through the hangers, knowing where everything was. A crisp scent of laundry detergent and Ellie's perfume wafted into the room as you carefully pulled out a fresh pair of clothes. You didn’t even bother to ask for permission; after all, you had done this countless times before, staying at her place and acting like you lived there. In fact, you had even met her dad, and he had taken a genuine liking to you.

“And you should too, Angel Knives,” you taunted her, your gaze drifting to the floor near the bed, where her Savage Starlight shirt lay discarded. The shirt was clearly a favorite, judging by the faded lettering and the soft, worn fabric, and even then, Ellie refused to throw it away.

She rolled her eyes at your teasing words, sitting up on her bed. The nickname made her cheeks flush, a playful annoyance glinting in her eyes. You could see her struggle with wanting to protest and the realization that you were probably right, feeling the sticky humidity cling to her skin.

“You a fan, too?” she asked, peeking at you with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Nah, my sister reads that nerdy shit.” You scoffed, rummaging through the drawers of her wardrobe, most likely hunting for fresh undies to wear. “Do you have anything that isn’t… Spider-Man boxers or–” You paused, pulling out banana-patterned boxers and letting it hang from your index finger. “...weird-lookin’ underwear?”

Ellie’s brow arched, a mock offense etched across her face. “Well, excuse you! I’ll have you know that boxers are highly comfortable,” she retorted playfully. “And they don’t ride up your ass like those damn thongs you wear.” She huffed out a laugh, clearly amused.

“Okay,” you shot her an unamused look. “You love my thongs,” you added, pointing your finger at her.

She shrugged, the corners of her lips curving into a lopsided smile. “Never said I don’t. They’re just uncomfortable—why do you need a thong anyway? Who’re you getting ready for, hm?” She stood from her bed, reaching for her wrinkled shirt, forgotten on the messy floor.

“I’m not the one flirting with Alexa all day at work,” you snapped half-jokingly, seizing the opportunity to needle her, which made the auburnette roll her eyes and groan. It wasn’t the first time you’d complained about their friendship, convinced there was more to it than just friendly banter. You could see how Alexa looked at her, or whatever her name was—not that you gave a shit.

“Here we go again,” Ellie muttered under her breath, rubbing her damp forehead with the palm of her hand, clearly exasperated.

“Uh, sorry? Couldn’t hear you.” Your hands were already on your hips, staring at her, daring to say something more. Your authoritative demeanor, once effective, seemed to be losing its impact on her.

Ellie exhaled deeply, pulling her shirt over her head. Her hair was a tangled mess, her face still flushed from your recent activities. “Throwing that drink at her was unnecessary.”

“You smiling at her was unnecessary.”

“I was just being nice!” she protested defensively, her brows knitting together in frustration.

“Right.” You scoffed, finally picking out a pair of boxers, deliberately avoiding her gaze. Ellie frowned, her eyes tracking your every move. She picked up her dirty boxers from the ground and pulled them on, feeling the uncomfortable dampness of dried precum, but they’d do until you emerged from the bathroom and she could finally shower and freshen up.

“Babe, c’mon, it’s not like that. You know it isn’t.” Ellie’s voice softened, reaching out to touch your arm. Every fiber of her being seemed to be pleading for reassurance, comfort, and attention. She couldn’t handle it when you got pissy with her.

“Gonna shower,” you said flatly, your expression unreadable, as you walked away from her and disappeared into the bathroom. “Don’t join me,” Your words echoed behind the door you slammed shut, cutting off her access to you cruelly.

But she did just the opposite. Ellie walked into the cramped shower after you, joining you in the steam-filled space. There was something about the steam of the shower and the sensual touch of her hands that immediately calmed you. She had learned how to soothe you just the way you liked, the combination of warm water, gentle caresses, and her worshiping touch making your body hum with pleasure. Soon, her name was a whispered plea on your lips.

When Joel returned home, the room felt like a still-life painting of quiet contentment. You and Ellie had already transformed, dressed up and looking more presentable than earlier. He stepped in and shut the door quietly, exhaling deeply, the weight of the day's burdens evident in the sigh that escaped his lips, a white cake box in his hand, which she recognized as the box from Maria’s bakery.

His tired, wrinkled eyes scanned the living room, taking in the remnants of your earlier feast—the pizza boxes stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, a testament to an easy, carefree evening. The two of you were nestled on the couch, your head resting gently on Ellie’s shoulder, your long lashes brushing against your cheeks, picture of serene slumber.

“Hey, kiddo,” Joel’s voice, a blend of gravel and warmth, broke the silence. His greeting was aimed at his daughter, who was still awake, her eyes fixed on the TV. The screen’s muted hum was a lullaby for you, drawing you deeper into the realm of dreams, while Ellie, her heart swelling with affection, watched over you, cherishing the sight of your peaceful expression. Ellie’s eyes lit up at her dad’s voice, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She gently shifted, careful not to wake you, moving just enough to acknowledge Joel’s presence.

His gaze softened as he looked at the two of you, seeing not just his daughter but also the close-knit friendship that had blossomed between you. It was a sight that brought a subtle, contented smile to his weathered face, glad that, for once, Ellie had stepped out of her comfort zone and made a new friend.

“Maria made a cake for you. She thought you were coming, too,” The middle-aged man said, swiftly placing the cake box on the table near the entrance and shrugging off his coat. “Your favorite.”

Maria loved to cook, not for herself, but for the people she cherished. She’d make Ellie’s favorite dishes whenever she knew Ellie was coming over, baking cookies or whatever the redhead craved.

Joel’s brother and his wife had always been like a second family to Ellie. Being a single dad wasn’t easy for Joel, and Tommy was always there to support him, as was his wife, Maria. She had been a rock for Ellie, comforting her during the turbulent waves of adolescence, like when she got her first period and cried hysterically in her arms. Maria was the mother Ellie never had, guiding her with gentle wisdom.

Whenever Joel became too suffocating, Tommy’s house was Ellie’s sanctuary, and Maria was the only woman she could pour her heart out to, complaining about how harsh her dad could be at times. Joel wasn’t a bad dad; he was trying his best. He was always willing to learn and adapt whenever he made mistakes, ready to listen to his daughter’s needs.

The young girl nodded at her dad’s words, the small movement causing your head to slip from her shoulder, waking you instantly. Your eyes darted to Joel, confused and half-asleep.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you yawned, straightening your posture and offering a soft smile.

“Thought we were past formalities, kid,” he responded with a half-smile. “Staying for the night?”

“Not this time. My mom’s coming back from a business trip,” you explained, glancing at Ellie for a moment before looking back at Joel.

Every time you looked at him, Ellie noticed a sparkle in your eyes, as if you were gazing at the most precious gem, something you desired but couldn’t have. Despite your wealth, the cinnamon-haired girl was unaware of how much richer she was in the things that truly mattered—she had a small house, yet it was full of joy, life, love, and a dad who would do anything for his daughter.

Love. Something so simple yet elusive, even for people like you.

Ellie saw the bittersweet smile on your face whenever Joel teased her or made silly dad jokes to make her laugh. Your dad never cared, nor did your mom. They were too focused on appearances, money, and molding you into the perfect daughter, but never actually caring for you. They were always traveling for work, never home, no family dinners, no Sunday picnics in the park. They’d praise you and leave money in your hand, their fake and forced words ringing in your ears, making you smile even as your stomach churned with dissatisfaction and longing. But you wanted more than words. You wanted more than money could ever buy.

26th of August.

You unlocked the front door and entered your family’s mansion, the heavy wooden door creaking softly on its hinges. You held it open for Ellie, who hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. She had never been to your place before, and with both of your parents gone for the week on business, you had seized the opportunity to bring her over.

The mansion was pristine, everything looking like it had been plucked straight out of a glossy magazine. The warm hues of the hardwood floors and the soft, ambient lighting softened the clean lines of the modern furniture.

Yet, despite its beauty, the house felt impersonal, like a perfectly staged showroom devoid of any real warmth. The pristine walls were adorned with a few framed photographs—mostly of your parents’ wedding, your first birthday, and a picture of your dad at what appeared to be a promotion party. No clutter, no personal touches. It was a house, not a home.

“Make yourself at home,” you kicked off your shoes and placed them neatly on the shoe rack by the entrance. Ellie hummed in response, her eyes roaming around the space as she wandered deeper into the house, her backpack still slung over her shoulder.

Her gaze remained fixed on the picture frame, a puzzled expression on her face as she asked, “Is this your sister?”

“Sister? What sister?” Your reply came out quick and unfeeling, as if the mention of a sibling was foreign to you.

Ellie’s eyebrow arched in skepticism at your dismissive tone, clearly certain of what she was saying. “You told me you had a sister,” she repeated, her gaze unwavering as she tried to jog your memory. Confusion evident on your face, she continued, “You know, the Savage Starlight fan…?” she prompted, recalling the conversation, her confusion deepening as you remained oblivious to what she was talking about.

“I never said that,” you scoffed, “Maybe your brain is scrambled from all the weed you smoke on breaks with Dina.” Ellie’s eyes widened slightly at your accusation, a flicker of surprise and amusement crossing her face.

“Whaa—”

“Ooooh, thought I wouldn’t notice?” you teased, a playful chuckle escaping your lips. You adopted a mock scolding expression, pinching her waist gently, making her squirm and jump away from you.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, raising her hands protectively in front of her abdomen. A playful grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “It only happened once.”

“Uh-huh,” you responded, your skepticism evident in your tone.

“...or twice,” she added, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Uh-huh,” you repeated, giving her a look that was a mix of disbelief and amusement.

Ellie chuckled, the sound warm and genuine, echoing through the otherwise silent mansion. She dropped her backpack by the foot of the couch and flopped down onto the plush cushions, sinking into their softness. You watched her for a moment, the way she seemed to bring life into the sterile environment, her presence a stark contrast to the usual cold perfection of your home.

“Seriously though,” she started, looking up at you with a more earnest expression. “Thanks for inviting me over. Your place is... well, it’s pretty amazing.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool, but her words brought a small, genuine smile to your lips. “It’s just a house,” you said, dismissing the compliment. “But you’re welcome.”

Ellie nodded, her eyes drifting back to the framed photos on the wall. She seemed lost in thought, her fingers tracing patterns on the couch fabric absentmindedly. “So, what do you want to do?”

A sly grin graced your lips, the corners of your mouth curving up. “Well, with the parents away, we’ve got the place to ourselves. I was thinking we could order Mexican food, watch a movie, and just hang out. Sound good?”

Ellie’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “Yeah, sounds perfect.”

She ended up staying for more than just the night. One night turned into two days, then three, with Ellie insisting she couldn’t leave you all by yourself while your parents were gone. “I’ll keep you great company,” she had said with a mischievous grin.

Your days in her company were a blissful blur of sex, cuddles, kisses, and more sex.

Rinse and repeat.

You groggily woke up one morning, instinctively reaching out for her, but the soft white sheets beside you were empty and cold. The faint scent of something sweet hung in the air, mixing with the lingering vanilla from the candles you had lit the night before, back when Ellie had eaten you out so good that it put you to sleep.

Sitting up, you rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes. Ellie’s over-sized shirt hung loosely on your body, brushing against your thighs as you stood. Your steps were almost inaudible as you padded toward the kitchen, drawn by the soft sounds and sweeter smells.

There she was, by the stove, flipping golden pancakes with practiced ease. A soft smile spread across your face as you admired her quietly. The morning light tiptoed through the window, casting a gentle glow on her goddess-like features. She hummed a tune to herself, a song you didn’t recognize, so engrossed in her task that it made your heart swell, a warm and unfamiliar feeling creeping up into your chest.

You walked up behind Ellie quietly, wrapping your arms around her waist. She jumped slightly, her humming stopping abruptly, before chuckling softly. “You scared the shit outta me,” she murmured, revealing her perfect pearly teeth in a smile you were too late to see. You pressed your cheek against her back, hugging her tightly. One of her hands gripped the spatula expertly while the other came to rest on top of your forearms, which were snugly hugging her waist.

“Sorry,” you mumbled softly, still half asleep.

Ellie laughed gently, the sound a soothing balm to your sleepy mind. “Didn’t hear you coming.”

You nuzzled closer, inhaling her scent, a mix of morning freshness and something uniquely her. God, you loved her smell. “Pancakes?”

“Yep,” she said, flipping another perfectly golden one. “Figured you’d wake up hungry after last night.” she teased.

“Oh, haha”

She chuckled again, a warm, melodic sound that filled the kitchen. “I made a whole stack.”

You stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying the simple intimacy of the morning. The pancakes sizzled in the pan, the smell of syrup and vanilla mingling in the air. The light continued to play across the room, casting a halo around Ellie’s head, making her look even more divine.

Finally, you loosened your grip, and she turned around, her eyes meeting yours with a tender look that made your heart skip a beat. “Breakfast is almost ready,” she informed you softly, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“You didn’t have to,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Ellie didn’t have to go out of her way like that. Not even your own mother bothered to show that level of care. She never worried if you had eaten while she was out all day in meetings or away for a whole week on a work trip. Ellie really didn’t have to be so incredibly kind to you, to spoil you, to push you to your limits at night only to care for you in the morning. And the worst part was that you were becoming accustomed to it.

Ellie leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I wanted to,” she murmured.

You smiled up at her, feeling a swell of emotion you couldn’t quite put into words—it was nothing you had felt before. It wasn’t just the sex or the cuddles or the endless nights of talking and laughing. Moments like this, simple and pure, made you realize just how much the auburnette actually meant to you. That’s when a sudden wave of worry washed over you, wondering what it would be like if all this was ripped from you. It all felt too perfect to be real.

“Where’d you even learn to make pancakes?” you suddenly asked in disbelief, your eyes fixed on the impeccable stack of pancakes sitting on a plate atop the glistening white marble. They looked like they had emerged from a step-by-step tutorial video or one of those captivating cooking shows on TV. The kind of pancakes that you’d attempt to recreate but could never quite make as beautiful as the ones on the screen.

“Maria,” Ellie smirked, clearly proud of her cooking skills. “You should try hers. They’re sooo good.”

The morning continued, filled with laughter, stolen kisses, and inside jokes. Ellie insisted on washing the dishes, her movements swift and efficient as she tidied up the usually immaculate kitchen. She almost felt guilty for using and messing it up in the first place.

You leaned against the living room door frame, watching Ellie with a soft smile. Her fingers traced over the spines of the vinyls on the shelf near the record player, curiosity etched on her face.

“That’s all my dad’s,” you said, tugging her back from her reverie. “But I doubt he’s ever used it once,” you added, a wistful sigh escaping your lips.

Ellie turned to you, her brows raised in curiosity. She had seen a vinyl record once at one of Joel’s friends’ places when she was a kid. Bill had a bunch of vintage stuff, and she had asked if she could try it, only to get a gruff, “Don’t you even try, you little shit,” in response. That had obviously been met with a scolding glare from her dad.

She hummed in acknowledgment. “Does it even work?” she asked, her fingertips tracing the edge of the record player.

“‘Course it does. I use it all the time,” you revealed. Ellie’s eyes darted to the vinyl in the player, assuming it was only for decoration before your words. You walked over and placed the needle on the record, the familiar crackle filling the room before the first notes of a ‘The Smiths’ song began to play.

Ellie laughed in disbelief. “The Smiths, really?” she teased, a hint of humor in her tone. She couldn’t help but find it jarring that this soft, romantic song didn’t mesh with the polished, cool exterior you usually projected.

“Surprised?” you teased back, a glint of challenge sparking in your eyes. “There’s more to me than meets the eye, you know,” you whispered mischievously.

Ellie smiled, shaking her head. “I guess so.” She moved closer, her hands finding their way to your waist as the music played softly in the background. “What other secrets are you hiding?”

You wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her closer as you swayed together, your bodies moving in perfect synchrony. Her body was warm and soft against yours; you couldn’t help but tease her in return, a playful smirk on your face. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” you echoed, your voice low and suggestive.

The room seemed to constrict around you, the music creating an intimate bubble that isolated you from the rest of the world. Ellie traced patterns on your back, her breath warm and comforting against your neck. The song played on, its melancholic lyrics weaving a spell around you as if the music herself had woven a net to capture the moment.

Her gentle laughter, a delicate and enchanting sound, intertwined with the lyrics, creating a mesmerizing harmony in the air. Leaning in, she whispered, “Oooh, I want to know everything about you,” her words caressing your lips before capturing them in a soft, lingering kiss. Time seemed to stand still in that moment as if transported into a surreal dream or a romantic movie scene.

The moment the kiss shifted down to your neck, you instinctively tilted your head, surrendering to her touch and allowing her to explore the sensitive flesh with her lips. Your eyes fluttered shut, a soft hum of pleasure escaping from your throat as you leaned completely against her, letting her control the slow, swaying motion of your bodies.

Ellie mumbled something against your neck, her words lost as she continued a trail of soft kisses along the sensitive flesh. Your mind was hazy with pleasure, your body responding instinctively to her touch. “Hmm?” you hummed, realizing you hadn't entirely caught what she said.

“I said I love the Smiths.” The redhead repeated herself, pulling away from you to meet your eyes, her dilated pupils fixed intently on yours, her mouth shaped in a sheepish, dumbfounded smile. In that moment, you could see firsthand how love had a way of making even the toughest person look utterly idiotic.

You grinned widely at her words, your hand reaching out to tenderly tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Your gaze flicked down to her lips, a sly gleam in your eyes before you abruptly crushed your lips against hers. Her eyes widened momentarily, a pair of small, smiling wrinkles forming at the corners before she melted into the kiss, her hands needily pulling your body closer to hers, almost tripping as she stumbled backward.

28th of August.

Ellie’s sobs filled your ears, a melody of desperation and delight, messy and unrestrained. Her body was a masterpiece, splattered with a riot of purple paint, accented with hot pink and blue, those elusive spots that refused to blend together, tangible proof of her impatience. She lay sprawled on the largest canvas your dad’s studio could offer, a living, breathing work of art.

It all began with an innocent, trivial question. “What’s with the face paint?” Ellie’s eyes widened with wonder as she caught sight of the face paint set tucked away in your bathroom. The tubes were crusty with dried paint, a relic of past experiments, and her inquisitive nature couldn’t resist the lure of discovering more about you.

She needed to know everything about you.

One thing led to another, and soon, you were painting her body a delicate shade of blue. Flowers bloomed around her areolas, her pink nipples hardening instantly as the brush’s bristles teased her sensitive skin, causing giddy giggles to erupt from her. Her thighs, once adorned with intricate floral patterns, now bore the marks of your passion, a chaotic blend of colors that turned into a deep purple.

You continued your creative spree, doodling and pouring your love into each stroke, turning her into your personal canvas. She lay there, naked and willing, on the actual canvas, her body the perfect medium for your artistic expression. She was so fucking perfect. Prettier than any supermodel. Your instrument moved across her honeyed flesh, connecting the dark, espresso-colored dots to create unique constellations. Your brushstrokes caressed her skin like a stargazer tracing patterns in the night sky.

When she was given the chance, Ellie’s hands moved with an unexpected elegance, sketching whimsical, Van Gogh-esque drawings on your soft, supple skin. But your features were so perfect, so divine, that they hardly needed any embellishment. And Ellie was nothing more than a devoted disciple, ready to worship your body at any second. She tried her best not to ruin her masterpiece by pouncing on you, but the temptation was too strong. She pressed her body against yours, her pink-stained hands exploring your form, leaving behind a beautiful mess on the once-blank canvas beneath you.

In a heartbeat, you had Ellie pressed against the canvas that would soon become a masterpiece. Her body was sprawled across the expanse of white as you trapped her beneath you, enclosing her with your thighs like the frame around a piece of art.

You were dead sure all those well-known artists would be jealous, their hands trembling with envy at the passion you poured into each other. Each movement etched another stroke as you worked together, painting love into existence, daring history itself to look away.

Your fingers worked relentlessly inside her, thrusting with a fierce, almost reckless abandon. You watched the redhead quiver and squirm, her soft sobs echoing through the vast mansion, filling the silence with a melody of need and desire. The mansion felt so empty, yet so complete with the addictive sounds of her pleasure.

“Just a bit more, pretty girl. Gonna make such a cute painting, yeah?” you purred, your tone dripping with sugary sweetness. Your free hand held her hips down firmly, abandoning her tits to focus on the task at hand.

Ellie nodded, crying out your name, her legs twitching and threatening to clamp around your hand, trapping it between her toned, plush thighs. Thighs that bore the marks of your love from the night before, purple love bites adorning her slightly tanned skin. Purple suited her so well, whether it was the paint or the love marks you left behind.

“I’m gonna hang this masterpiece where I can see it every day. A reminder of how fucking perfect you are,” you murmured, voice like liquid sin, your pink-stained knees planted firmly on either side of her hips as you hovered over her, your body a kaleidoscope of passion painted in wild strokes of color. Your lips brushed against hers, whispering sweet nothings; your words ignited a flurry of excitement in her stomach, making her insides perform all sorts of acrobatic feats at every syllable that escaped your lips. The idea of you displaying both of your bodies—or, well, the mess you two had made on the canvas while you destroyed the shit out of her—turned her on even more and made her feel special; it made her feel oddly appreciated.

Your fingers, slick and relentless, plunged deeper inside her, exploring her depths like an artist lost in the throes of creation. “Babe… g’na cum again,” she panted, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and anticipation. Her hands, stained with pink and blue, clung to your arm, leaving smears of paint like love notes on your skin.

“I’m not stopping until you do,” you promised with a wicked grin, your free hand roaming her body, feeling the curves and dips like a sculptor molding clay. Your breasts hovered over her smaller ones, purposely rubbing your hard nipples against hers in a slow, sensual motion, feeling her chest rise and fall with each breath, “Muses deserve to be worshiped.”

The auburnette couldn't agree more; her sketchbook was filled with drawings of you. Every line, every curve, every feature of your face and body were etched onto the pages as if they were a permanent fixture in her mind. The sketches captured your essence in a way that words could never fully describe. The casual moments she had spent observing you burned into her memory, and she felt compelled to translate them onto paper.

She had never shown them to you, of course, and she hoped you would never find out. The sketches were her secret stash of stolen memories, snapshots of intimate interactions, a reminder of the unique connection she shared with you that words alone could never capture.

Ellie’s back arched, pressing her painted body closer to yours, the heat between you both almost unbearable. The canvas beneath you was a riot of color, a testament to your passionate union, each brushstroke a symbol of a moment where flesh met flesh.

“You’re my fucking masterpiece,” you rasped, fingers working faster, deeper, drawing out her pleasure with every thrust. The sounds escaping her lips were almost musical in their intensity—mewls and whines so high-pitched and fervent.

Ellie cried out, the sound echoing through the usually silent mansion, a symphony of unfiltered sinful pleasure. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, her body trembling with the intensity of her orgasm. You felt her cunt squeeze your fingers, her release painting you in a mess of sticky wetness and raw need, mixing with the paint all over each of you.

Your sacred nectar dripped onto the rough canvas, merging with the pink and blue stains like a varnish promising to seal the artwork, smudge-proof. But it wasn’t enough; it was never enough for you. You always pushed Ellie past her limits.

As the emerald-eyed girl came, you left her no time to recover from her orgasm. “Sit on my face,” you commanded. You never just asked—you took whatever you wanted, doing as you pleased. And she complied, like a good brainless little thing, letting you use her, just like always.

“Am I too… heavy? Can you breathe?” The questions rolled off Ellie’s tongue, her anxious mind racing. She was almost afraid of putting any weight on your face; the last thing she wanted was to hurt you. Oh, if she knew how much you wanted to suffocate between those toned thighs.

Blue-stained hands gripped her hips firmly, dragging her down onto you. You huffed at her nervous questions. “Just like you’d sit on a chair,” you instructed. She let you control her every movement, shivering as your breath ghosted over her wetness, her hand resting gently on your abdomen to steady herself.

You took a moment to admire the mess you had made of her, translucent cum coating her cunt and various colors painting her body, making her look like a beautiful mess. “So messy,” you murmured, your voice muffled. Your tongue traced along her slit, gathering every drop of her essence with your muscle. You teased her entrance with your tongue but never quite stuffing it inside, instead traveling to her swollen clit.

Ellie squirmed and jerked away from your face, still incredibly sensitive, but you stopped her in her tracks, gripping her hips to keep her anchored to your mouth. She cried out as you teased her throbbing nub, applying the smallest pressure, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Oh my god…” she gasped, her head thrown back, mouth agape in a silent cry, eyes rolling back as you began to suck gently. But when she looked past her shoulder and took note of your paint-smeared thighs, the way you rubbed them together in search of desperately needed friction. She couldn’t drown the urge to make you feel good. You were always so good to her, taking care of her body with fervent dedication and love, and she wanted to do the exact same thing to you. Ellie swiftly turned to lay on top of you, her body adhering to yours perfectly, mixing paint with sweat and cum; she gently parted your legs to bury her face between them. Her fingertips traced a delicate pattern, and a shiver ran through your body, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the feather-light devoted touch.

Your body shivered with anticipation as she began to play with your sensitive core, her long fingers circling your entrance and making you grow more impatient by the second. The auburnette couldn’t help but smirk at your urgent movements, watching as you bucked against her, desperately needing more from her touch.

There was an unspoken competition between the two of you. You were determined to make Ellie come before you, and she had the same goal in mind for you. Her fingers filled you, her mouth on your clit, sucking harshly, as if she was drawing life itself from you, making it hard to focus on anything but the building tension in your belly.

Your paint-smudged face contorted, a beautiful blend of frustration and ecstasy, as you succumbed to the overwhelming knot tightening in your stomach. Your thoughts were scattered, unable to focus on the task ahead anymore. What prevailed was the connection between you, a cosmic collision that was both fierce and gentle, like the merging of planets, or the joining of stars.

Your mouth left Ellie’s core, your nails sunk into the plump flesh of her colored ass, paint collecting under the nails, and your eyes squeezed shut. The redhead’s mind was lost in the filthy noises you were making, so lewd and animalistic. She was eagerly slurping on you, tongue flicking against your clit, her digits coated in the slick wetness that was pouring out of you with each pump of her slender fingers.

Ellie’s rough fingers dug deeper and deeper, and as soon as she added a third finger, you came; she enjoyed the feeling of you pulsating around her so much, like a kid who had found the toy they had wished for under the Christmas tree. You left a trail of crimson nail marks etched onto her skin, a vivid reminder of the moment that would replay endlessly in her mind like a film caught in a loop.

Her hands glided over your trembling thighs, fingers tracing gentle reassurances in the paint that anchored you in the moment. “Did so good for me,” Ellie murmured, her voice a soft caress that warmed your skin like sunlight filtering through leaves. For a heartbeat, it felt as though roles had reversed. But the shift was fleeting, like a breeze that stirs the leaves for only a moment. Her breath hitched as your mouth found its place again. Her voice caught in her throat, countless stifled sounds bouncing around the room as you pressed on, more determined than ever to bring her to her orgasm.

The ivy-eyed girl gasped, the word “fuck” tumbling from her lips, raw and unguarded, as her body shifted above you. But you held her close, your arms encircling her, a protective, possessive cage that kept her pressed against you, unable to escape. Your grip left marks, but she didn’t mind; they were reminders of the intensity of this moment, of how much you needed her. Her hips moved with a desperate rhythm against your tongue, her essence mingling with your own, painting your chin with slick saccharine juices. “I’m close again,” she warned, her words more of a plea than a warning.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” Ellie breathed, the words tumbling out in a mess of praise that barely held meaning, but you understood them perfectly. You continued your worship, devouring her like she was the first taste of sweetness after a lifetime of bitterness like you had never known anything more intoxicating than the flavor of her. And it was true. She rode the waves of her peak, her hips undulating in a rhythm you wished you could capture, freeze in time, and replay endlessly just to marvel at the poetry of her movements.

When she finally shattered, you made sure to savor every fragment of her, to pull every last drop of her essence into you, draining her completely. She was your ambrosia, a feast for a hunger you hadn’t known you carried until you met her. And there was something almost unholy in how desperately you craved every part of her, a need that would remain your secret. She didn’t need to know all that.

You lay there together, bodies tangled in a heap of sweat and colors, the aftermath of your passions a vivid painting that had yet to dry. Your breaths mingled, an echo of exhaustion and contentment, until finally, the euphoria began to fade. You helped each other to your feet, and together, you made your way to the bathroom, the remnants of your creative explosion still clinging to your skin, a Picasso of emotions splashed across your bodies, leaving the actual canvas you had fucked her on laying on the floor, drying.

The moment you two stepped into the shower, steam began filling the bathroom, sticking to your paint-splattered skin. It felt oddly intimate, a sensation that left you struggling to comprehend how taking a shower with Ellie could feel so profound. You had showered together countless times, often after sex and sometimes leading right back into it, your hands unable to keep to themselves, drawn to explore and touch.

But this time was different. Neither of you spoke nor dared disturb the comfortable peace that had formed in this box-shaped sanctuary. Yet, without words, you were communicating more deeply than ever. Ellie’s touch wasn’t hungry or greedy; she wasn’t pulling you closer to satisfy her own desires. Her hands moved with a tenderness that almost made you cry as she carefully massaged the soap onto your skin.

Have you ever been touched like this before?

Her green eyes watched your body with such love and care, meeting your gaze with an intensity that spoke louder than words. It was as if you could hear the unspoken confession that echoed in her mind like a haunting refrain she couldn’t shake off. She didn’t want to overstep, didn’t want to scare you away, but the feeling was there.

Your eyes remained locked on each other, the silence both comforting and suffocating, your minds plagued by the same simple yet devastating confession.

“I love you.”

But neither of you dared to say it. The fear of such vulnerability held you back. You had never felt this way before. Your heart and mind, usually so guarded, ached with the desire to be loved, to be unwrapped and discovered like a precious gift. There was so much more to you than the expensive clothes, the money, the bitchy attitude, and the snarky comments. She saw it all. She could see right through you.

And that’s when it clicked. You kept Ellie around, not just because she didn’t let your bullshit faze her and snapped right back at you like a boomerang, but because she made you feel seen. This feeling of being truly seen was the most terrifying thing in the world. It sounded so simple, so stupid even. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted? To be seen?

Not when it came with the power to destroy you, to leave you in pieces if they ever decided to walk away.

Only when you had stepped out of the shower did you finally speak, both of you trying to ignore the intense moment that had just transpired. You pretended it wasn’t there, that the feelings and infatuation didn’t linger in the steam-filled air. Ellie helped you wrap a clean towel around your body, her touch lingering just a fraction too long, and you did the same for her, your hands brushing her skin with a familiarity that felt both comforting and dangerous.

“When are they coming back again?” she asked, breaking the sacred silence, her voice soft. Her crystalline eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made you almost uncomfortable, compelling you to look away.

She could sense it—like a truffle-hunting dog, she picked up on the uncertainty, the fear radiating from you. But she didn’t call you out on it, not even when you turned your back to her, pretending to be too busy tidying up the self-care products scattered on the gray marble of the sink.

You busied yourself with arranging the bottles and jars, your hands moving with a mechanical precision. “The day after tomorrow, but I invited my friends over tonight,” you announced, your voice cutting through the thick silence.

The auburnette hummed in acknowledgment, a sound that felt more like a placeholder than a response. You sighed, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, and turned to look at her. An apologetic, guilty expression painted your face.

“What?” she mumbled, her brows lifting ever so slightly, confusion knitting them together. She couldn’t read your expression or decipher the tangled thoughts wandering through your mind.

“It’s gonna be a girls’ night.”

Ellie’s brows arched in perplexity, and she huffed out a chuckle. “I’m a girl too,” she uttered, the confusion clear in her voice, her eyes searching yours for clarity.

“No, I meant... I want time alone with my friends.” You could see the shift in her eyes, the realization settling in like a storm cloud, darkening the light in her gaze.

She let out a scoff, her voice tinged with sarcasm as a bitter expression took over her features, her freckles standing out like splatters of ink against the canvas of her anger-flushed cheeks. “Ah, yeah, sure.” She could feel her patience slipping away at your bewildered and wide-eyed look as if she had been waiting for this very moment to unleash her true thoughts. The meadow-eyed girl’s expression hardened, a slight frown crossing her face as she prepared to speak her mind. “Is it that or the fact that you’re ashamed of me?”

“What are you on about?”

“C’mon, Y/N, I’m not fucking stupid.” She shook her head in disappointment, her eyes clouded with hurt. “I thought we were past this bullshit.”

You chuckled, a hollow sound that echoed off the marble walls, trying to brush off her words and dismiss them, just like you always did whenever you wanted to avoid confrontation. “You’re overthinking it.”

But she wasn’t having it, not this time. Ellie stood there, the dampness of the shower still clinging to her skin, her frustration palpable. Her eyes, usually a soft haven, were now sharp and piercing, searching yours for any sign of the truth you were so desperate to hide.

“Yeah, say all you want. I know what you’re doing.” Her voice raised ever so slightly, her flushed face contorted in anger. A few baby hairs stuck to her damp and humid forehead, a loose strand escaping her little bun and framing her face like a wild halo. “What about when we’re gonna date, like, officially?” she blurted out, frustration dripping from every syllable.

“Date?” you scoffed, your voice softer than hers, your expression starkly contrasting her intensity, almost… mocking.

“Yes, date. What the fuck are we?”

“Ellie, do not start with this again,” you grumbled, annoyed, your eyes rolling at her question. “We’re having fun, that’s what we are.”

Her eyes narrowed, the hurt and anger blending into a storm behind her gaze. “Having fun, really?” she echoed, disbelief and desperation lacing her words.

“We’re having fun, Ellie. Isn’t that enough?” you snapped back, arms crossed, your posture defensive, closing off like a fortress. The air between you felt electric, charged with the tension of unspoken truths and buried fears.

“Enough? For who?” she shot back, her voice cracking with emotion. “For you, maybe. But not for me. I need more than just ‘fun.’ I need to know what this is. What we are.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “We’re just… Can’t we just keep it simple for now?”

“Simple?” The freckled girl’s scoff was sharp, her head shaking in disbelief as she tried to banish the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes. She refused to let you see her cry, to give you the satisfaction of thinking that she was weak, that you had any power over her emotions, feeding your ego like some kind of gluttonous beast. “You call this simple? Hiding me from your friends, pretending like we’re just hooking up? That’s not simple; that’s cowardice.”

Her words stung, each one a dagger to your carefully constructed defenses. “It’s not like that. It’s just... complicated.”

“Complicated? Or are you just scared?” she challenged, stepping closer, her eyes locking onto yours with a fierce intensity. “Scared of what this could be. Scared of letting yourself feel something real.” she had this almost devilish smirk on her face, “Have you ever even been in love before?”

The accusation hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. Ellie was right, and you knew it. The truth was, you were terrified. Terrified of how deeply you felt for her, terrified of what it would mean to let her in, truly and completely. Not again, at least; it was something you couldn’t afford.

The fear was suffocating, and you couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth. Not yet. “I just need time,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

“Time,” Ellie repeated, her voice hollow. “How much time? Because I’m here, right now, ready to give you everything. But I won’t wait forever.”

You looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the vulnerability she was laying bare. The silence between you was deafening, a chasm that threatened to swallow you both whole.

“Ellie, I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat, tangled in the web of your own fear.

“Forget it,” she said, turning away, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Just forget it.”

She walked past you, bumping your shoulder as she stormed off, her footsteps echoing in the tile-lined hallway. She rushed to your room, her movements frantic and determined, immediately gathering her clothes—everything. By the time you ran after her, the auburnette was already half-dressed, slipping on the last piece of clothing. The distance between you felt insurmountable, and you realized with a sinking heart that you might have just lost the best thing you never knew you needed.

You stared at her with wide eyes, your fear laid bare. “El, c’mon. Stop acting like this.” You tried to shake her out of it, but it was clear she wasn’t going to sit there like a good puppy and let your lies control her every decision. Not this time.

She kept pacing back and forth quickly, shoving her belongings into her backpack with an urgency that broke your heart. You walked towards her, reaching for her arm. “Baby, hey, look at me.” Despite the softness in your voice, she snatched her arm away from your grasp.

“Don’t fucking ‘baby’ me,” she snapped, her voice a whip crack in the tense air.

“Let’s talk about it, please,” you pleaded, desperation creeping into your tone, something you never even dared to do, not even in your wildest dreams.

She paused for a moment, her back to you, her shoulders trembling with the effort to hold back tears. “Talk about what?” she finally said, her voice breaking. “Talk about how you’re too scared of being seen with me? How you’d rather hide me away rather than face your stupid fucking friends? Or… whatever it is you're scared of.”

Your silence spoke volumes, the truth too heavy to put into words. “Ellie, I’m trying. I really am.”

“Trying?” she repeated, her voice laced with bitter disbelief. She turned to face you, her eyes red-rimmed and shining with unshed tears. “I can’t keep doing this, Y/N. I can’t keep waiting for you to decide if I’m worth the risk.”

Her words sliced through your soul like the bite of a razor-sharp blade, the sheer weight of her anguish resonating deep within your very bones. You wanted to reach out, to pull her into your arms and promise her the world, but the fear held you back, a dark shadow whispering doubts into your ear.

“Ellie, please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Don’t go.”

She shook her head, the finality of her decision clear in her eyes. “I can’t stay,” she said softly. “Not like this.”

“Hey, hey, stop it. Don’t.” You stepped right in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. Your hands gently cradled her face, and you gazed intently into her intense emerald eyes. You pressed your forehead against hers, your breaths mingling as you held her gaze.

Ellie’s hands delicately rested on top of yours, her voice barely audible as your name escaped her lips like a gentle sigh. Her long eyelashes fluttered closed briefly, as if the moment’s intensity was enough to take her breath away, leaving her feeling overwhelmed.

“You don’t wanna leave,” Your voice was soft and soothing as your thumb tenderly caressed the freckled plane of her cheekbone, your words a silent plea that you couldn't bring yourself to speak aloud.

Why not simply reveal your feelings, confessing that you loved her just as much as she loved you? Why not lay bare your heart and express how her absence leaves an aching void within you, a void that can only be filled by her presence alone? Pride had a way of ruining everything, an invisible force that drove wedges between hearts. Add to that fear of vulnerability, and the situation becomes even more dire, a toxic combination that threatens to destroy even the strongest connections.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, the words caught in your throat like thorns. And so, Ellie left, slipping away like sand through your fingers.

You watched as she zipped up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, her steps heavy as she walked past you. The door clicked shut behind her, the sound echoing in your ears like a death knell taking with her that little warmth only she could provide, your house growing uncomfortably cold and empty again.

Back to the origin.

873 notes · View notes