#it needs to be out there in the wild not here n trapped inside my mind

[taniushka12]

I need to finish writing. . . . . . . the birthday fic......

[s-4pphics]

… are we rolling?

SYNOPSIS: screwing your best friend on live isn’t that strange… right? … RIGHT? 

WORD COUNT: 5.3K

WARNINGS: SMUT — MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS/MEN WILL BE BLOCKED, switch/sub!ellie, switch/dom!reader, brief mentions of misogyny in porn?, ellie bottoms n is slightly bratty in this, readers a service top, stoplight system, fingering, eating pussy, making out, readers dirty mouth[to be expounded, she’s gross], orgasm denial/ruined orgasm, mentions of weed but none used, mentions of sex on camera(not performed,,, yet), mentions of voyeurism, brief mention of exhibitionism, brief mentions of bondage, slight dumbification, laughtercare :)

A/N: i reread click and realized i need more cam star ellie. this is for ME. i wrote this for ME. i needed THIS. another result of ovulation. i imagined jackson!ellie while writing this but imagine any ellie you’d like. sigh... love yall <3 

wait i came back…. guys i think i love writing again. i love editing again. i love rewriting again. hurray/hooray

everybody clap for aestra for proofreading for my drafts :) LUV YA DEAR @edenspoem

“Look here.” 

“I am.”

“Not at my hand, honey. Look here. The camera’s here.” Your fingers twinkle in front of the lens. 

Yes, the camera’s there, but so are your stone-clad, delicate fingers, wrapped graciously around your sloppily stickered tripod where your overtly fancy digital camera sits neat and determined on top. 

Ellie’s trapped in delirium. A lost tango of abiding your very thorough instruction while waltzing the line of entrancement. She hasn’t retained much in the past five minutes because frankly, how could she? The same fingers she’s secretly admired for the better part of 5 years are about to submerge inside her and lead with nothing but carnal instinct. Who wouldn’t go mad? She surely has, and your mattress isn’t even a mess yet. 

The invitation of her star-fishing had been bright and fruitful on your part. Since the birth of your friendship, Ellie has grown incredibly reliant on your clarity. She’s never met a person as honest and forward — but not abrasive — as you are; the reins of the relationship remain stable under your control, never too wild or incessant to be yanked, and much to her appreciation, lack of structure turns you to panic just as it does her. She gains a sense of tranquility from your bluntness, and that day in your car was just that. Blunt.

She was naive at the time: to accept a time bomb disguised as an overtly expensive black coffee, placed gently into your cup holder while Ellie clapped her hands together like a seal. It’s always the same steady routine: coffee and shittalking, the brunette’s favorite pastime. 

If she knew her blood would practically write love letters all over your car windows, she may have never accepted your invite. 

“Would asking to fuck you stupid be too forward?” 

Asked with a nothing tone, simplicity and the brightest eyes. Her soul was snatched clean from its confinement with your manicured claws, palms stained with the maroon of her bleeding heart. She assumed you were pulling her leg for her own sanity, but you’ve never been a puller, at least not during conversations that highlight lengthy forms of human intimacy, but damn, no one had ever asked to bend her over in broad daylight ever. Heat radiated off her and onto you like overworked machinery. 

“I don’t think so?” was her stuttered response, but it hadn’t been enough to convince you. If you were to despise one thing, it’d be uncertainty, and that lost tremor was nearly enough to turn you the other direction. Nearly. Almost. 

How did someone like Ellie, intimidated, clueless— dangerously obsessed— convince? Simple as ever — it was a thoughtful proposal. Straightforward. Not a leg pulled, and in that moment, she knew she garnered your approval. Look where she ended up a few days later. 

“Wanna get in the back… or?” 

Reckless? Yes—but a girl with wants doesn’t care about her mutilated surroundings. Fulfilling her desire: that’s what Ellie needed right then and there, on the seat in the middle of the parking lot of the shopping center. Consider it a repayment for that six dollar cup of nitroglycerin. 

You giggled a sound so tender despite the twistedness of your tongue. Had you finally given Ellie the upper hand? You had to, even if it would be the last time you ever allowed her to lead. She assumed your laughter to be a sign of surrender—finally, she had thought, right as her jacket slid off her shoulders to dangle from your passengers side.

You have an ability to stun with your smile—teeth stained red with every swipe of your tongue on dirtied glass. Ellie fell victim to your attacks all over again, another bomb unleashed, from your mouth this time. 

“Would asking to fuck on live be too forward?” 

Right at that very second, the clouds of the heavens split down the center to embrace her hollow, dark spirit—to protect her from the lecher of a seductress. The angels didn’t dare touch you to bring along: they sense the trap in your softness. There’s so much filth that resides underneath your colorful aura. She took that secret to the sky: how equally sick she was, your exact match. 

You had put heavy emphasis on live. Live as in livestream. Live Stream as in real people watching while you make a mess of her despite having always had, but that would teter into a space neither of you have touched in your friendship. She always hoped there was something there, a fringe of deeper devotion, even if meek; all those times where you caused goosebumps to bloom all over her with your filthy whispers, all the times you’ve called her gorgeous, all the times your fingers travelled, dipped, stayed just a bit too long on her skin. They had to have meant something, and your proposal was proof of it, in her mind at least.

Doing porn had never crossed Ellie’s mind. Viewing was barely satisfactory on its own—an occasional indulgence here and there when she’s desperate and her imagination’s a bore, she’d watch, cum, and fall asleep slightly less antsy. It was a raunchy tool for satisfaction and nothing more.

Until it wasn't. 

Until she scrolled a tad too deep on Twitter after hours—a fuzzy video that lasted no more than 12 seconds, but it mutilated her brain so viciously, and it wasn’t due to the saliva-coated fingers circling around a swollen areola before showcasing sharp fangs. 

No. It was the nightstand in the background, barely in focus; it’s shocking how easily she recognized it. The same nightstand with a knife scratch in the left corner of the top drawer. The one sloppily painted over with neon yellow. The one that holds a floral-patterned lamp that she remembered turning off on countless occasions. 

Your nightstand. Your tits, your saliva, your fingers. You you you and yours. 

A part of Ellie died that night, exactly a year ago. The innocent part. The strictly-friends part. The stress-filled day ended with her rubbed completely raw and swollen and irrevocably high off you: rewatching that same 12 seconds over and over before progressing to minutes long ones of you screwing yourself silly—buried deep at the bottom of your page, then the 15 minute long ones that hid behind a paywall where you got fucked or fucked in positions she didn’t think were possible—even made a burner account to unabashedly like and bookmark every moment of your partners seemingly entranced by you, so much so that she had to comment under an alias—her appreciation for cumming so hard. The relishment hadn’t lasted long because men—the bane of her existence(and yours, every pest now deleted), can never shut the fuck up. Comment after comment: Sexy, Bet you can take massive loads like nothing, I can make you straight again. Ellie’s unsure if she can bring herself to kill, but if she could without a trace… oh, if she could. 

Unfortunately, telling predatory men to kill themselves only beckoned her karma. Her naughty secret had a three-day lifespan. What luck she has. 

Who accidently falls asleep to Twitter porn inside of said porn star’s house, on said pornstar’s couch? 

She was awoken by warmth from a blanket she hadn’t retrieved herself, a fully charged device that she knew she hadn’t plugged in, and breakfast. A good and hefty breakfast for a good and hefty conversation. 

Safe to say you and Ellie’s relationship became helluva lot more personal that morning. 

Personal enough for you to describe in detail the adrenaline you feel when people(not men, people) get off to you, your body. Personal enough to show her videos that may never reach the internet due to their intimacy. Personal enough to ask her to hold the camera while you pose unclothed—that took a bit more time, but it happened. So, so personal. 

Not personal enough to turn her away from fucking you, though. She spent too many late evenings stalking that account—absorbing each line and curve of your stature in lingerie or naked or strapped up, memorizing where and what sensations set you ablaze, rewinding the small seconds right before euphoria consumed you whole. All that studying had come full circle, all to be tested at that moment. Her daydreaming had flipped on her. Tongue in cheek—she didn’t bother hiding her enthusiasm. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“I want you to know this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done.” Ellie calls from your mattress, jeans already kicked off to the side of your room. 

“Having second thoughts?” 

Not a scrimmage of disappointment in your tone—eyes soft with alertness and an overcast of concern. 

“No… just talking out loud.”

“There’s no wrong in wanting to back out. This is… it's a bit weird.” 

Live Streaming is weird. That’s probably the scariest part about all of this—not the risk of ending a friendship that Ellie has grown especially fond of, not the potential change in perspective of her from your end, but the perception from strangers. What if she hiccups or makes a weird noise or reacts in a way that’s not… attractive to the masses? What if they don’t like her? You’re the star after all. They pay decent amounts to see you in your sensual glory—Ellie simply doesn’t possess that eloquence this sort of indulgence requires. 

“Or we can opt outta streaming altogether if it’s bothering you. We can just… you know, build up to it.” The shy gesture towards your mattress gets Ellie swooning. Her tone drops an octave, playfulness cranked higher to soothe her nerves. “Are you suggesting that I become a regular?” 

“Would you like to become a regular?” 

“Oh? There's other clientele?” Ellie snickers off the slight—quite slight agitation that sparks within her at the suggestion of others. Unreasonable and annoying, but she can’t help it. “I’ll know for sure after this, no?” 

“I suppose.” You murmur with curved lips, scanning your camera with what Ellie can read as hesitance. 

“What’s the matter?” 

“I’m thinking.” 

“About?” 

“I can’t help but think this is a lot for you. We’ve never even kissed.” 

“I beg to differ—“

You scoff, “we were high. That doesn’t count and you know it.” 

“Why wouldn’t it count?” 

“Ellie.” You scold gently, and her fight falters, sighing deeply when the mattress bunches around her elbows.

“So… what’s the plan?” 

“I told you already. Building up to.” 

Ellie hums with interest you’ve piqued. “Are we rehearsing then?”

“That’s cute. I like that. Sure, rehearsing.” 

She huffs at your mocking, “come closer.” 

“In what world do you think you can tell me what to do?” 

Ellie’s response stays lodged in her throat from its dryness. The air shifts—her world shifts in a way that she feels upside down, her breath scattering and fingers twitching where they rest on your blanket. Heat blooms from her cheeks to her forehead at the ease in your stare. 

You’re so calm. You radiate serenity on the slow journey to your dresser, your rings clattering in your jewelry holder—the same glass seashell Ellie gifted you on your birthday two years ago. It’s a familiar preparation, a ritual she’s mastered on her own, but for some foreign reason, her chest swirls with a sensation that she can’t pinpoint.

“I… um…”

“Yeah? You, um, what?” The corner of your mouth curves ever so slightly—so cunning, and suddenly, the conversation could be about anything. All efforts of indifference melt down through your mattress to drip onto hardwood. The role of your camera is long forgotten with every step your sock-covered feet take. 

Her legs jerk when you finally stand between her legs, jeans tickling her skin, nearly locking you in place by your thighs but you don't falter—she’s frozen in her position, laid out in front of you with confidence on rapid declination.

“Stoplight system.” You whisper, Ellie’s response just as airy. 

“What?” 

“Do you know what that is?” 

Sounds familiar—possibly something that you’ve mentioned in passing a few times. She hadn’t understood the context when you mentioned it during your routine one-night-stand recalls, but you were left giddy enough to talk about them until you went blue in the face. 

She says no, secretly due to how good you sound, raspy and alluring. You could be talking about actual traffic laws and she’d be just as skittish and needy as she is now. 

“If, for any reason, you don’t like something that I do, or say or anything — or if you just want to stop, say—“

“Red.” She comprehends, and you call her smart—just under your breath, and her legs lock on you again. Stoplight. Simple enough. Green or blue or orange or whatever. Come closer. 

“And if I like it? Whatever it is you do.” 

“Then tell me you do. I work better with praise.” 

The room goes silent while Ellie flounders and you inspect, particularly deep and all over her; lines burning into skin with every pass of your pupils on her thighs, scarred and dotted. Your gaze flickers, dilated and fluttering with lust but upholding serenity, eyes capturing and framing every insecurity she’s developed since adolescence, lodged deep into your memory. Such scrutiny… she wishes she had the heart to despise it. 

“Speaking of, what do you like? How do you touch yourself?” With causality, the tip of your index finger traces up her thigh, following the healed gash she earned after failing to hop a fence when she was fifteen. Ellie’s chest gives a tight squeeze when it curls underneath the lining of her shirt to inch it up slightly. A smile twists when you catch the colorful lining of her underwear. 

“I touch myself like everyone touches themselves.”

“And how is that.” 

She scoffs ludicrously. “I don’t fuckin’ know, I just do it.” 

“Does it feel good when you just do it?” 

“I don’t remember.” 

“Interesting.” And with that, you drop to your knees and Ellie nearly faints. 

“You’re tense.” 

“Well, yeah—“

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“You know I’m not.” 

“Then loosen up a bit. I won’t do anything crazy til next week.”

That’s the problem, isn’t it? How does Ellie tell you that she wants everything you have to offer without frightening you? Overwhelming you? Would that even be possible for you—to be alarmed by her desires? It’s hard to tell. There’s three different floggers pinned to your door for fucks sake. 

Yeah… incredibly hard to tell. 

Especially when your fingers hook in her waistband like you've been anticipating ripping them to shreds. You don’t pull, but rest. It’s clear in your vision when she looks up, that tranquil warning: Ellie’s last chance to bail out completely, even as you attempt to mask your smile when you catch a glimpse of her wetness. 

Her lungs constrict with how deep her breath is. Her heart thrashes with her inquiry, ragged and insatiable. 

“And what’s next week?”

You scoff a laugh and Ellie’s thighs twitch. 

“When my paypigs finally get to watch me fuck you dumb.” 

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” escapes in one exhale before she’s sucking in another gust of air.

“Yeah?” 

She barely has any time to squeak her approval before her underwear is torn from her. Her thighs tense with instinct to shut them. You’re eye level with her cunt in all its drippy glory. Ellie’s never felt this form of anxiety when naked in front of anyone. She’s seen your pussy when it glistens under flash—a glorious sight. It feels wrong and misogynistic to call a pussy mediocre but in comparison, you’re beautiful and she's… decent? She’s not as smooth and doesn’t shave because what the fuck for, but she also doesn’t have to worry about people criticizing her pussy in the way they would criticize yours. Her pussy’s hers and hers only… but she’ll die if you think she’s… unattractive. She’ll jump out your window. 

“Why do you look like that?” 

“Like what, dude.” 

“Like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“Well, my labias on display, for one—“

Rebuttals die as quickly as they blossom. 

The last bit of oxygen in her lungs is lost when your index and middle finger lay gently over her, stunted by your warmth when you spread her, gentle sloshes from her slick spreading as it spills from her. You’re seemingly unbothered by any of Ellie’s sudden self-judgements, and shockingly, her own brain has silenced under your gawking. She only watches your hand, uses it as grounding before her lungs stop working. 

“Look at you.” You coo. “You’re real cute, baby.” 

“Thanks,” barely mumbled—barely coherent. Your canines bare beneath a smile; you’re about ready to tear her to shreds.

“This is the last time I’m gonna ask you. How do you touch yourself?” 

“I… just rub one out when I have time.” Her eyes flit from your face to the wall only to find more nudity across pink and faux brick. Even with erratic glances, there’s so much detail and care within each photograph: some from magazine shoots, some from polaroids you’ve captured. Some of you, some with you, and some without you — images left with only your satisfied companions, evidence of your lecher embedded permanently into their skin. 

Will you leave her the same way? Capture her with such delicacy to pin to your wall?  

“… That all?” 

Her entire body engulfs in flames and your gentle scrutiny doesn’t help. Her shoulders bump weakly. 

“I think you deserve a little bit more than that. All ‘m saying.” 

You stand and wave your hand at her, ushering her further back onto your mattress. She flounders stupidly until she’s centered on your pillows and you smile. “Get this off for me.” You tug at the hem of the shirt she stole from your drawer last year. Ellie short circuits when her back arches and fingers tug at the fabric, leaving her fully unclothed—she prays you can’t hear the borderline violent pounding atop her ribcage. 

She fidgets when your arms hook tight around her thighs to yank her closer, her locks dragging across your pillows and before she can even register your closeness, you kiss her. She hardly notices the noise, her noise, vibrating on your lips—guttural and strained and nasally, and she can’t stop wriggling against you, no matter the efforts of you trying to station her hips. 

This kiss is nowhere reminiscent of your first one. You may not remember but Ellie does—chaste but filled with adoration and softness underneath the stars. Gentle and light that got Ellie’s chest stirring with tenderness. This isn’t like that—not when your hands move from her hips to her wrists to pin above her because she keeps pulling you where she shouldn’t. Not when you bite her lips, not when your lips suction around her tongue. Not not not not. 

This kiss is real, this kiss is hungry: pronounced with fervor with every steaming swipe of tongue. Just when she’s sure you couldn’t get any closer, you manage, and Ellie burns wherever your skin touches. You’re making her a mess — you did then when you cradled her cheeks with that doting smile before pecking her mouth that night, and you still do; the proof scents your fresh sheets. How’s that for praise? 

She’s conflicted between wishing you weren’t clothed and desperately needing to grind herself into your jeans. The need to imprint herself in every corner of your comforting sanctuary is enough to turn her animalistic: she tears into your hand with her nails, arches her back to grind up into your leg before you force her still. Every corner you turn, whether she’s here or not or you’re fucking someone else — no matter the ache of that knowledge, there’ll always be a memory of her presence— she was here first, and everytime she ends up under your sheets, you’ll be the first to know.  

You must have the same idea because your mouth and teeth travel south with intent to bruise, down the curve of her neck, and… fuck. 

You pause at her giggle, when her chin tucks slightly to the side to shield the sensitive skin. You suck your teeth at her, all smiles. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t—“

Ellie cackles when you pout, “You ticklish here, too?” One wrist gets freed from your confinement before you poke a tentative finger to the other side of her neck, but the results are the same. Chin tucks and light snickers. You mask your own laughter with a kiss to her cheek. And her chin, and her nose. Until she’s giggled out. 

“It’s weird as fuck, ‘m not ticklish anywhere else but there, not even on my sides.” Nerves unravel her tongue. You hum acknowledgments like you’re listening because you're sweet and care that she feels heard, all while your lips smack down to her chest. 

“My sides are ticklish,” you whisper between her breasts, and she shudders, “my thighs, too.” 

“Noted,” cracks reside in her timbre when your teeth sink into her skin. Her whining replaced laughter. 

“What’re you takin’ notes for?” 

“Gonna tickle you when you’re not looking.” She whimpers.

Ellie’s jaw slacks when you suck a nipple into your mouth. Your hands return to their residence on her waist when she jerks and her back cranes. You sound so far away when you laugh around her, “feels good there?” 

“Agh, shit—“

“Does it? Tell ‘em it does.” You grit, and Ellie freezes. She can feel you smiling. 

Your fingers find the cushions of her cheeks to force her head up, but she’s not looking at you. Not at the wall either. She doesn’t have to. This is a rehearsal, is it not? You're training her for the real thing: to be fully exposed on camera and not feel shame. 

Her eyes meet the camera lense, and you hum around her nipple in satisfaction. She’d bet every dime that her eyes crossed and met directly in the middle. Thank God you’re distracted. 

“Tell them, Ellie. How good is it?” You vibrate against her and her hips launch up into you. 

“It… yeah, it’s really goo—“

You cackle into her chest and Ellie’s eyes squeeze shut. How is it possible that her body’s temperature increased another hundred degrees? Just as she garnered enough courage to talk to a theoretical audience, her voice breaks like a kid going through puberty. 

But your laugh is very reminiscent of jingle bells. She can’t help but smile. 

“They’re gonna love you bitch, holy fuck—“

“Shut the fuck up.” Ellie snickers, and your lips smack against her chest. She has to stop her arms from chasing you when you sit up onto your knees. One quick glimpse at her chest is enough proof that you two crossed paths. You’re all over her. 

Your eyes are soft with their travels over her frame. Too much scrutiny that she’s enjoying: deflection is her only way out of it. “My nips hurt, man, fuck.” 

“Sorry dollface, couldn’t help myself.” 

Her knuckles pale around your blankets when your hands hook underneath her knees, slowly forcing them up where they connect to rest on her chest, and her skin bleeds its deepest shade. Her last bits of anxiety leave in one final exhale before she hooks her arms under her knees to keep them steady. 

“She’s gorgeous, baby.” 

Your directness makes Ellie scoff. She watches you readjust where you’re seated, ass rested on your heels with a hand on the back of her thigh.

“Watch me, ‘k?” You peer from behind her legs. Ellie can barely get a nod in before her clit gets stimulated, circled slow by your thumb. 

“Don’t kick me.” You whisper sillily, and she huffs, albeit dry and breathless, but you smile brighter and her heart soars. 

“How’s that, babe?” 

“Good, like it.” 

“Tell me what you need.” You demand softly and her body feels caressed by your tone alone. 

“C — can you… do it like this?” Her middle and ring finger demonstrate before you: side to side, faster. She likes pressure—bodies on bodies, desperate hands, feeling so needed that she’s drowned by whoever she’s with. She needs that from you. 

Her eyes cycle when you comply with precision—of course you’d be an expert and touch her right where she needs it, get her panting like a dog. 

“Better?” 

“M… mh—“

“Yeah?” You breathe when she whines, and she nods. There’s a pull already forming—more of a yank in the pit of her stomach because she’s on you; dripping onto your sheets, scenting your fingers. She’s slowly infiltrating your space in a way she’s never verbalized but always thought of and you’re allowing it, all because you want her as much as she craves you. She can hear it in your voice, feel it in your touch; you want to own her, even if it’s a mistake or it’s temporary or the damage is irreversible. Her peak is already cresting and she doesn’t even know if the five minute mark has passed.

“I feel it baby, cumming f’me already?” 

Her clit twitches as if commanded. She fucking might if you don’t shut up. You shouldn’t talk like that you shouldn’t sound like that—so alluring and hot and as needy as she feels. She could cum just from your voice, she thinks. She has in the past, but this is different; every vowel is punctuated with swift massages on her cunt by the hands she practically idolizes—the ones attached to her best friend who’s responsible for her messy bed sheets and wrinkled fingertips almost every night. 

You deserve applause for your efforts, so she moans encouragement; hums on about how good you feel, how sexy you are—almost slips and admits that you’re so much better than she imagined when you rub a spot too right. You’re slowly molding her into an open diary with your fingers. 

But Ellie must’ve been too loud. Too wriggly, because you’re gone and standing before the edge of your bed in seconds. She almost sobs but any complaints are strangled quiet by shock when you snatch her arms away to tug her to the edge by the ankles. She chokes on a whine when you drop to your knees, lungs constricting when your mouth latches onto her clit, arms locked tight around her thighs because she can’t stay the hell still, efforts worthless. Your suctions bend her in ways she assumed to be impossible, her nails in search of grounding in your shoulder but you don’t waver when blood drips. She takes you like it with every one of your moans that rattle her from the inside out. 

She’s loud but so are you. With every wail that leaves her mouth, you reply with your own like you feel what she can, but this amount of pleasure is incomparable to anything she’s ever felt. You’re working to break her apart and it’s working; she needs to suffer under you. When a finger prods at her entrance, she knows she’s a goner. The thigh that collides with the side of your head is enough confirmation that she won’t be making it past your bedroom door tonight. 

“Dammit, El—“

Her leg is raised and held at the hind crease of the knee when an eager finger floods around plush and twitchy walls—on a curious search, one rested deep in her while her softness attempts to suck it dry. 

“Gonna have to tie you down to my bed, huh? Keep you nice ‘n still while I wreck this cunt?” 

Her brain wracks with apologies but none actually formulate; just jumbled and broken syllables that sound too much like your name and fuck and deeper. 

She forgets where she is and what’s being done to her when you suddenly graze deeper, fingertip pressed right up against that raised skin that she digs for whenever she fucks herself to you. Her walls practically strangle your index when you snicker at her entranced and lovestruck expression. 

“You close?” 

“Yesyes fuuu—“

Tears wash down her cheeks when you pull out and her euphoric intensity is lost, only left with an ache that makes her abdomen burn. If she was in her right mind, she’d curse you to hell. 

“I know, I know, stop crying. Back up a bit, baby.” 

She slugs but you steady her when those thighs give a little wobble. You keep her leg bent with your hand as you rest. Ellie’s weak arms blindly search for one of your pillows to rest on so she can watch without disturbance. She doesn’t need to beg for you back inside—you’re already stretching her with an extra finger before she can blink and ecstasy takes over her vision, spots on your ceiling, gets her sobbing all over again because it’s too good. 

And you’re laughing—not your normal, excited and chippy giggle that she loves with every cell of her being. This is dark and mocking like you crave her humiliation. She likes that. She loves that. She gives you that: the pleading eyes, grabby hands on your waist, attempts to shut her legs just so you can swear to mount her flat all over again. 

“‘s coming, ‘s comin’ oh my fuck—“ 

“Give it t’ me, be good and give it, c’mon—” 

“—pleasedon’tstop—“

“‘m not. You earned this, yeah? Cum for me—”

There’s 8 wonders of the world. Or 3. However the fuck many there possibly are, your fingers take up two rankings. 

Ellie’s never had an orgasm that deafened her. Either her shout was loud enough to blow her eardrums out or the deep grind of your fingers reached so far that her brain now lacks some function. There’s no wave, there’s no buildup, there’s no anticipation—she just cums, thrashes underneath you, rips your sheets to shreds with her nails. Soaks your wrist til it drips down your forearm with whatever she could give and you take it all, force her through whatever she doubts she can take. Her pleasure is so aggressive it’s almost painful but she needs that. She’ll do and take anything from you if it means you'll do this for her again and again and again until her breath belongs to you. 

She sobs so guttural when your fingers push past her tightly shut legs, your laughter so gleamingly cynical. 

“O—okay—god, fuck, okay, baby, okay okay—“

All over again, your fingers yank her soul from her pussy when you leave. She’s completely motionless against the damp mattress, breathless whines vibrating from her throat as her muscles flex and twitch and beg for your return. She barely manages to roll over onto her side to curl into herself. Every movement is a reminder of what she’s had, what she’s lost due to emptiness. Embarrassment can’t even be felt anymore; she needs you to fuck her again, nerves be damned. 

Some minutes pass with you aimlessly rubbing her leg until that same twinkle—the laughter she knows and treasures—raptures her ears. Euphoria leaves her in the same form, so hysterical it turns her red in the face. 

“So…”

Ellie calms her giggling just enough to hear you say, 

“Same time tomorrow?”

[vvvchu]

# ⋆ This Isn’t In the Bible, Is It?

synopsis ★ but your p𖹭ssy sure feels like heaven.

ও pairing : 𝕴ncubus!gojo satoru ⋆ 𝕹un!reader

ও content : NSFW / MDNI. ⋆ religious blasphemy. ⋆ corruption kink. ⋆ creampie. ⋆ overstimulation. ⋆ cockwarming. ⋆ size kink. ⋆ filthy talk. ⋆ oral (f & m receiving). ⋆ breeding kink. ⋆ nipple play. ⋆ baby-trap teasing. ⋆ pussy-obsessed satoru. ⋆ dumbification. ⋆ overstimulation. ⋆ aftercare. ⋆ satoru have baby fever. ⋆ reader is confused but horny and tired.

ও a.n : it was in my head for a long time, i had to write it.

You're trying to pray.

Rosary tight in hand. Knees bruised on the chapel floor. Mouth whispering shaky little Ave Marias as candlelight flickers across the altar.

And he’s there again.

Sprawled out naked on the pew like it’s a fucking couch, white hair wild, legs spread, jerking his massive cock lazily while watching you like a kid in a candy store.

“You look so cute when you’re pretending you’re not gonna let me fuck you,” he purrs. “All innocent like. But baby, your pussy’s already drooling. Wanna see?”

You gasp, cross yourself, turn away.

You don’t even finish the prayer before he’s behind you, tongue in your ear, cock grinding up against your ass through your habit.

“Hi angel. Miss me?”

You swear you can feel the smug grin on his lips.

And that’s how it starts. Again.

He lifts your skirts like a horny teenage boy, groaning as he pushes you forward over the altar. You’re still praying—trying to—but he makes it impossible.

“Say it,” he growls, lining himself up.

You shake your head, face flushed, tears threatening.

“Satoru, not here—”

“Say His name, and I swear I’ll make you come so hard your legs forget what walking is.”

Then he shoves it in.

You SCREAM.

Because his cock is inhuman. It’s pretty—because of course it is, the bastard’s a incubus—but it’s also fat, veiny, and curved like it was crafted in the fiery pits of hell to ruin you.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out.

Just the wet sound of him slamming into your cunt while your rosary falls from your fingers and clatters against the altar.

“Fucking tight,” he groans, balls slapping your thighs, hands gripping your hips so hard you might bruise.

“This holy little pussy always milks me like she needs it. That’s it, angel. Use me like the filthy demon I am—fuckin’ save me, baby.”

He makes you say a prayer with his cock inside you.

He loves hearing you cry out "Forgive me, Father" while he bullies his cock into your cervix like it’s a goddamn confession booth.

He moans so sweetly in your ear.

“So dirty... My little nun’s getting cream-pied on the altar. Do you think God’s watching?”

He slaps your ass.

“Bet he’s jealous.”

You come. Hard. Loud. And stupid.

You don't even mean to say his name—

But it falls from your lips over and over like a hymn:

"Satoru, Satoru, please—"

He explodes inside you with a deep groan, hips stuttering, muttering about how you're his little cumdump now, holy or not.

Then—

You’re panting, sobbing. Eyes glassy. Legs numb.

And what does he do?

He flops onto your back like a fucking ragdoll.

Wraps his arms around your waist and presses his sweaty face into your habit.

“I love you,” he mumbles.

You’re still dripping his cum. On a holy altar. With your skirt pushed up and your tits out.

And this man just says:

"Can I take a nap with my head between your tits? Please? Just for five minutes. Then I’ll eat you out again. Deal?”

He’s so fucking annoying.

He follows you around the convent like a stray dog. Gropes your ass while you sweep the floor. Licks holy water out of your cleavage. Steals your panties and wears them on his horns.

He calls your tits his “pillows.”

Your pussy his “safe space.”

The cross on your chest? His target.

You tell him he’s a demon who needs to be exorcised.

He tells you he already came inside you eight times, so really, it’s too late.

And when he sleeps?

He drools a little. Whines for your boobs in his sleep.

Clings to you like a body pillow.

Mumbles about putting a baby in you next time.

৻ꪆ © vvvchu. do not repost, use, modify, translate or plagiarize any of my works here or any other websites, especially ai.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Mind, body, and soul || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @mad3lyncline

Summary: in a rare moment of vulnerability, Rafe voices his need for you and you only.

Warnings: angst galore 😍😍

Word count: 2,371

A/n: guys this acc had me giggling, smiling, and kicking my feet bc I love it when Rafe is so lovestruck by reader and being vulnerable to her and her only.

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

As you reverse park your car, the bass-heavy thrum of trap music vibrates so intensely you can feel it reverberating even from your car. Sarah, lounging in the passenger seat with a tipsy grin, shakes her head. “I can already tell I’m going to be horribly hungover tomorrow.” You chuckle, flicking her a sympathetic look as your finger hovers over the button to raise the convertible roof.

“Me too,” you agree with a laugh. But just as you press it, a blinding light floods the car, making both of you instinctively shield your eyes. “What the hell?” you mutter, squinting as you try to make out the source of the glare. Across the parking lot, a truck idles with its high beams aimed right at you. You narrow your eyes, recognising it immediately.

“Is that your brother’s truck?” you ask Sarah, already knowing the answer. She groans. “It is.” With an exaggerated sigh, you roll your eyes and flip him off, watching as he laugh. “Yeah, real funny, dickhead!” you call out, your voice carrying over the pulsing music just as the roof finishes closing.

Shaking your head with an amused grin, you hop out of the car, the cool night air washing over you as you look back to see Rafe, still sitting behind the wheel with that signature smug grin, clearly pleased with his little stunt. “Of course my brother’s here,” Sarah mutters under her breath as she steps out and shuts her door, the headlights casting long shadows across the driveway as you hit the lock button.

You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder. “It’s a party loaded with booze, drugs, and girls—where else would he be? Rafe wouldn’t stray too far from that scene,” you say, a knowing smirk playing at your lips. As you round the car, you throw a pointed glance his way, catching his eye for a brief, charged moment.

His grin widens, like he’s daring you to say something, but you roll your eyes, dismissing him as you turn back toward the house. The heavy beat from inside grows louder with each step, the thumping bass promising a long, wild night ahead. Behind you, you can still feel Rafe’s gaze, lingering with a mix of mischief and something unspoken.

~

“Finally, you’re here,” his voice murmurs close to your ear just as his arm slips around your waist, pulling you into him. The familiar warmth of his body and the scent of his cologne makes you melt, and you can’t help but grin as you look up at him. “Miss me that much?” you tease, rising onto your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips, savouring the brief contact.

“Get a room, please,” Sarah mutters, rolling her eyes as she heads off, leaving you both laughing softly. You’re still smiling into the kiss when his hand slides to grip your waist, then dips lower to give your ass a playful squeeze. Biting back a laugh, you take his hand in yours and lead him inside, weaving through the crowd toward the kitchen, where bottles line the counters and red cups litter the island.

Just as you reach for a drink, you hear Rafe’s voice behind you, casual yet somehow authoritative. “Hey, man,” he calls out, extending a hand. You turn in time to see Topper clasp his hand, pulling him in for a quick bro hug, their easy familiarity apparent. Rafe glances over Topper’s shoulder and gives you a subtle wink, a smirk dancing on his lips. You take a slow, steady sip of your drink, trying to ignore the flutter that Rafe’s wink stirs up.

He gives you a curt nod, voice cool as he says your name—“Y/n”—playing it off casually, fully aware that Topper’s watching. Then, as if on cue, Topper drapes his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. You lean into his touch, holding Rafe’s gaze with a challenging glint as you cock an eyebrow at him, feeling the tension sparking in the space between you. Rafe just smiles, but you can tell by the tightness at the corners of his mouth that he’s bothered, the calm facade masking what you know to be a prick of jealousy.

Leaning in, you press close to Topper, your lips brushing his ear as you murmur, “I’m gonna go find Sarah. I’ll be back.” You punctuate the words with a soft kiss to his jaw, aware of Rafe’s intense gaze on you, reading every movement. With one last glance over your shoulder, you slip away, feeling the weight of Rafe’s stare as you blend into the crowd, a mix of satisfaction and anticipation simmering in your chest.

~

“Took you long enough,” Rafe’s voice comes out in a lazy drawl, each word dripping with barely concealed impatience as you shut the door softly behind you. His eyes are locked on you, tracking your every step as you make your way across the room, his posture relaxed, yet there’s a simmering intensity beneath it.

“Yeah, well, I was having my fun,” you say with a playful pout, savoring the way his gaze darkens slightly, jaw tightening as he registers your words. You take your time, letting each step toward him linger, the tension between you building with each inch of distance closed. Rafe’s expression flickers with something unreadable as you stop a couple of feet from him.

“What do you want, Rafe?” you ask, voice soft but steady, holding his gaze with a hint of challenge. His eyes drag slowly over you, a touch possessive. “I don’t get why you’re still with him,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet edge. The statement hangs in the air, daring you to defend it. “Topper?” You shrug casually, though you can see the slight twitch in Rafe’s jaw as you say his name.

“Well, he’s my boyfriend. And…” You pause, watching his reaction, leaning into the charged silence before continuing, “I love him.” Your voice is confident, but you’re aware of how close you are now, of the heat radiating from his body as you step between his legs, close enough to feel the subtle tension in him. Rafe’s pupils dilate, his breathing shallow as he lifts his gaze back to yours, dark and intense.

Slowly, his hand reaches out, resting on the back of your thigh, fingers tightening as he guides you a step closer, his touch firm, sending a shiver through you. The distance between you vanishes, and you bring your hands up to his face, cradling it gently as you tilt his head back, forcing him to look up at you. His usual confidence is flickering, replaced by something raw, vulnerable.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, laced with a desperate edge. His eyes search yours, seeking the truth, his unspoken desire crackling in the air between you, daring you to deny it. His words hang between you, heavy with something you’re not ready to name, his eyes searching yours with a mix of longing and frustration that makes your heart race.

ou hesitate, fingers brushing over his jaw, feeling the tension in him as he waits for you to say something, anything, that confirms what he so desperately wants to believe. A soft laugh escapes your lips, and you arch an eyebrow at him, letting the weight of his expectation settle for a beat before saying, “I don’t get why you’re acting like this just because I let you go down on me at that party.”

Your voice is teasing, the words edged with a playfulness that you know will only stoke his frustration further. Rafe’s eyes narrow, his jaw tightening as he processes your response. He lets out a short, mirthless laugh, his grip on your thigh tightening just enough for you to feel the heat of his frustration. “You think this is a joke?” he murmurs, voice low, but there’s a vulnerable edge beneath the words.

You let your hands fall from his face, crossing your arms as you look down at him, still standing between his legs. “What am I supposed to think, Rafe? You’re acting like one night means forever.” You raise an eyebrow, challenging him, but the way he’s looking at you—intense, possessive, almost pleading—makes your own resolve waver. Rafe’s gaze sharpens, his frustration giving way to something deeper, more vulnerable.

“You think I just go down on anyone?” he mutters, his voice barely concealing the hurt simmering beneath his irritation. His hand tightens on your thigh, pulling you that much closer as he speaks. “I wouldn’t do that if you didn’t mean something to me, if this didn’t mean something.” You feel his words settle over you, heavier than you expected. His eyes are locked on yours, unflinching, his expression raw and open in a way that catches you off guard.

He’s never looked at you like this, not with this intensity, this strange mix of frustration and honesty that threatens to crack your own defenses. Rafe’s hand slides up to rest on your hip, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that sends a shiver through you. “That night, it wasn’t just a game for me,” he says softly, voice rough with the weight of the confession. “Don’t pretend it was for you, either.”

You want to say something, anything that will take the edge off the tension thickening between you, but as you look into his eyes, you realize there’s nothing you can say to downplay what happened. The unspoken connection between you is real, and the way he’s holding you now feels dangerously close to a promise. “He’s your best friend, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice softening as you move a strand of his hair away from his forehead.

The gesture feels intimate, yet the weight of your words hangs heavy in the air, a reminder of the precarious line you’re both walking. Rafe shifts slightly, moving his head aside, the warmth of your touch lingering as your finger hovers just above his skin, caught between wanting to reach out and the realization of the boundary you’re skirting. After a moment’s pause, you let your hand fall back down beside you, the distance between you feeling impossibly charged.

“Yeah, and I don’t care about him,” he replies, his voice low but steady, an edge of defiance creeping in. “What matters is how I feel about you.” There’s a moment where his expression flickers—vulnerability giving way to defensiveness. Your heart races at his admission, the honesty in his tone sending a thrill through you. “So you think that just because we had one moment, I should throw everything away?” you challenge, your voice firm, yet tinged with uncertainty.

Rafe’s expression hardens, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability beneath the surface. “You make it sound like I should care about Topper,” he says, the annoyance creeping into his voice. “I don’t. All I care about is you.” The weight of his words hangs in the air, thick with tension. You take a breath, feeling the gravity of what he’s saying. “But it’s not that simple, Rafe. You can’t just ignore everything else.”

“Why not?” he replies, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, filled with intensity. “Why can’t I want you? Why can’t I want more than what we’ve settled for?” Your pulse quickens, caught between his gaze and the truth of your own feelings. Rafe’s intensity is captivating, and as he searches your eyes for answers, you realise that the boundaries you thought you had are blurring, the desire between you too strong to deny.

“Because you can’t have me,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but the words land with a finality that makes his jaw tense. Your hands lift to cradle his face, fingertips brushing against his skin as if trying to commit every line and angle to memory. Your gaze flickers to his lips, the urge to close the distance almost overpowering.

Rafe’s eyes darken, his breath hitching as he studies your face, searching for any trace of doubt. “Says who?” he murmurs, leaning into your touch, his hands coming up to rest gently over yours. He’s holding you there, grounding himself in this moment as though refusing to let it slip away. You swallow, feeling the intensity radiate off him. “Says the part of me that knows you don’t always get what you want.”

The words feel heavy, but there’s a tremor in your voice that betrays your resolve. Even as you speak, your thumb unconsciously traces the curve of his cheek, lingering with a tenderness that contradicts the distance you’re trying to impose. Rafe’s gaze drops to your mouth, a flicker of longing crossing his face. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he whispers, his voice rough and unsteady, his eyes meeting yours with a determination that makes your heart race.

“I can’t help wanting you. Mind, body, and soul,” he murmurs, the words heavy with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His voice is low, almost reverent, and as he leans in, his lips hover just inches from yours. His breath fans over your skin, warm and inviting, the space between you crackling with electricity.

His hands slide down, settling possessively on your waist, fingers pressing into you as though anchoring himself in this moment. He pulls you in closer, his gaze locked on yours with a raw vulnerability that you’ve rarely seen. “And I think you want this too,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes searching your face for any hint of hesitation.

You feel your resolve wavering, the intensity in his words and the weight of his touch making it impossible to ignore the desire building between you. There’s a pause, a beat of silence where the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, caught in this fragile, electric moment. You feel the pull, the undeniable truth in his words.

Your fingers tighten slightly against his skin, and you lean in just enough to brush your lips over his, tentative, testing, but unable to hold back. It’s a whisper of a kiss, a surrender, and as his grip on you tightens, you know there’s no turning back.

[thinkinonsense]

DESIRE ୨୧

logan howlett x mutant!reader

cw: flirty, slightly nsfw

a/n: this was heavily inspired by that scene in the first suicide squad movie where they introduce harley quinn.

"we should all split up before someone finds us." storm tells her team mates as the break into the building.

inside were mutants of all kinds, being hidden and tested on. it was charles plan for the team to get as many as possible and bring them back to the mansion before they can cause any damage.

on the surface, it seemed simple enough. they have done this mission a million times. little did they know that an unspeakable danger awaited them in the basement of the old building.

everyone split up, storm went to the west wing while scott and jean went to the east. logan found his way downstairs, assuming that maybe he could find whoever was running the show here.

beyond the high security metal doors, he can hear the faint sound of an old record playing. the closer he got, the clearer it sounded. nancy sinatra? maybe? logan wasn't quite sure but he figured it was a trap so, he prepared himself for whatever was on the other side.

Way down along the stream

How sweet it will seem

Once more just to dream

In the moonlight

My honey, I know (I know) with the dawn

That you will be gone

But tonight

You belong to me

revealed on the other side is a large metal cage fit for a wild animal. inside was a girl swinging upside down from a line of tied material with her body in an obscene position.

"i've told you before, david..." your voice was angelic to logan's ears. light as a feather. "i don't like to be disturbed after 7."

"i'm not david, princess." logan said, stepping out of the shadows right as your eyes open.

logan's eyes scan over your scandalous appearance. tiny dirty white shorts and matching tight tank top, apparently whoever runs this prison doesn't allow bras either. you twirl down from near the top of the cage until your face to face with the man on the other side.

"who are you, then?" you ask, looking up at him as you hold onto the bars.

"i'm here to get you out of this cage." he says, unleashing his claws, ready to cut through the bars.

"hold it, baby." you purr, reaching out to touch his sharp claws. "don't you wanna play with me?"

"no, we need to leave."

"why should i leave with you? how do i know that you won't put me in another cage?"

even with a slightly dirty face, rings of lavender circles under your eyes, and dried blood on the corner of your bottom lip, logan still thought you were gorgeous. slightly intimidated by your fearlessness to reach out and touch his claws. he imagines that you had seen worse than this.

"tryin' to save you" he grunts.

"i wouldn't picture you as the prince charming type." you giggle, running your fingers up his hairy, veiny, strong arm over the black latex suit.

"i'm not."

logan glares down at you in a way that makes you want to jump his bones. what? it gets lonely being trapped in a cage all by yourself. plus it's not everyday that a handsome stranger wants to help you escape.

suddenly, you grab logan's palm, circling it as your eyes roll back to a dark green shade.

"tell me what you want to do with me." you demand.

this was the moment logan understood why you were held in a cage down in the basement. suddenly, logan's mind feels as if it's being bended and twisting, forcing every ounce of truth out of him.

"we are here to take the mutants to charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters." his voice sounded robotic under your spell.

"charles xavier?"

in a rush of excitement, you release logan from your threshold. he wants to bark at you for invading his mind but seeing you smile made him reconsider.

"so, you've heard of him?" logan raises a brow at you, watching as you hold his hand sweetly.

"of course i have." you answer tracing shapes on the back of his palm. "i've seen him in my visions. been waitin' on him."

visions? what kind of mutant are you? logan asked himself as you spoke.

"too bad i didn't see you in them, though." you sigh, batting your long lashes at him. "wish i had. could've bought us some time to... well, you know."

the teasing flirty tone made logan's cock stir under the tight latex. he felt this overwhelming desire for you fill his head.

"hm... we should focus on getting you out of here first, huh, princess?" he tilts his head to the side, amused by you. "step back."

you obey, walking backwards near your rope. in the blink of an eye, logan cuts through the bars and bends them out enough for him to help you get out. loud flashing sirens go off, slightly startling the two of you.

"guards." you warn him. "they're coming."

logan turns around, claws bare to anyone coming towards the two of you. he steps in front of you, ready to protect like a guard dog. it was quite cute of him, you think. the moment the guards burst in, logan starts attacking, stabbing them ruthlessly.

you allow him to take out a few one by one but as more poured in, you stepped in. your eyes roll back into the same shade of green as a hand raises, some of them fall to their hand and knees, shifting into dogs others were being strangled until they looked blue in the face.

logan couldn't believe it. the only mutant that he thought could rivaled your powers was jean. the room fell quiet except for the record echoing as it replayed.

"it's my favorite song, you know?" you grin as if nothing happened.

"old soul, huh?" logan asked with an eyebrow raised.

"witches are timeless, sugar." you wink, extending your hand for him to take.

logan hesitates but knows he has to get the two of you out of here alive. one look into your starry eyes and he's a goner. logan takes your hand and leads you to the jet, knowing he will never hear the end of it from his teammates.

[caramelkoo]

be still my heart — jjk [two]

the one in which Jungkook lets his imagination run wild and you confront Jimin about your past.

genre : childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst

word count : 5.1k

chapter warnings : strong language, kissing, jungkook is again nervous around Destiny. That's it i guess lmk if i missed anything.

a/n : ohmygod the first part got so much love i just couldn't wait to post this. This one is a bit intense. I love my babiest baby jungkook so much. Please enjoy my lovely people and remember you're so loved :> feel free to send asks. kisses.

Jungkook

During Jungkook’s college days, there was a guy named Oscar who’d sit beside him in class with his round glasses resting on his face. He would bunk classes almost every day which led the ever so curious Jungkook to follow him one day in order to find out what’s so special that he’s even willing to bunk classes for? Listen, the nerdy Jungkook thought bunking classes is bad manners. Don’t come at him.

Eventually, he found himself watching Oscar playing the guitar inside the vacant auditorium and he can swear he’s heard nothing more melodic than that. He figured the guy escaped so he could do what he loves. It was his passion.

If someone were to ask him, what’s his passion? Jungkook would say, Hockey. It pumps him up, it brings him back to life. He was born to do this.

He has seen his older brother playing hockey for as long as he can remember but trying the sport for himself? That never came to him, until his brother thought handing out a hockey stick to a 15 year old would be funny.

Newsflash, it wasn’t funny and as much as he doesn’t want to, Jungkook has no option than to give him the credit for him being here. It’s only right. The moment he held that hockey stick it was like the clouds parted and angels started singing.

This life right here is something he has built with hours and hours of practice, diet, diligence and working himself out until he’s a sweaty mess.

It’s not like every other 28 year old’s life, it’s different as well as demanding but every other 28 year old is also not being thrown into the penalty box like him right?

On a good day he would even call himself a conflict-avoidant guy until it comes to his teammates. Then, he’s an animal, ready to tear down every motherfucker who dares to touch them. Dramatic? he doesn't think so.

Yes, they piss him off but they’re a team, it’s a unified responsibility that they have. You stop at nothing to protect your own. The spark of defensiveness is bound to come to the surface given he's the defenseman of the team.

This is why he’s in here, trapped behind this glass shield as he watches the guys do their worst performance till date. The forward of the opposite team tried to get a fight started making Jungkook see red. His instincts led him to act immediately. He had to do something to put an end to it and breaking the guy’s nose seemed like a nice option.

The lions are not an easy team to play with, they’re hard hitters and show no mercy. That’s what coach has been telling them ever since they landed here. Seems like nobody listened. Fuckers.

Sweat drips from his hair as he watches the game, ears filling up with screams behind him.

“Jeon Jungkook I’ll have your babies”

“Jungkook you’re so hot it makes me insane”

“Oh god this man will be my death”

“He can slap me and I’ll thank him”

God help him. The thing is, the shitshow before him is not the only reason behind him being a mess today. Destiny has been… weird lately. At the risk of sounding like a goner, she’s not acknowledging him at all, like at all.

She used to grab the seat in front of him on the plane whenever the team flew for the games but this time she didn’t so much as look at the poor guy let alone sitting before him. Is she hurt because of last time? Did he fuck up again? This proclivity of fumbling every time he’s around her needs to be checked.

“Dude, we couldn’t have held a candle to them.” says Taehyung.

Ah yes, the guys lost the game if it wasn’t predictable enough and now the coach will have their heads on a platter ready to serve. Well, he doesn't want to do that any more than Jungkook himself does.

Jungkook gets rid of his shin pads, placing them on the bench. “Try saying that in front of coach”

“He’ll understand”

Yoongi glares at him, “The fuck he will. He’s been in our faces telling us how wild it might be over there. Who listened? Because you sure not did, Tae”

Taehyung chuckles in disbelief, propping his hands on his waist. “Dude, you’re targeting me as if I was the one breaking noses and all.”

He gives Jungkook a side eye. Oh he’s so gonna get Tae later.

“You might as well have. And as for you,” he glances at Jungkook, "I'll just hope you come back in one piece."

“Alright, cut it out” Namjoon says as he slips into his practice jersey. That’s so like him. Heading straight for practice after a big game, whether or not they win.

He’s one of the most dedicated people Jungkook has ever seen and you can’t generally get a praise out of him like this.

He blocks out their bickering and focuses on getting out of his hockey pants. A sharp pain shoots up in his knee making him cringe. That’s strange. He doesn’t remember his knee getting involved in the ruckus. Anyway, he makes a mental note of letting Destiny know about it and not repeat the same douchebaggery.

“Hey bud, you doing okay?” Namjoon asks as he’s rubbing the painful spot.

He looks up, “Yeah it’s… it’s just a slight pain. Might be a cramp for all I know”

He pats Jungkook’s shoulder in support, a kind smile plastered on his face. “I hope so and hey, don’t be picking fights like that anymore. You understand?”

Jungkook is quick to defend himself. “But that asshole–”

“I know,” he nods, “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. Let it be your last.”

He gives up, nodding his head. “Yeah. I’ll resist”

Namjoon is right. Jungkook did not pick a fight and he knows it. He also knows that Jungkook is always ready to come at his players’ defense, however that might be.

After all, it all boils down to a nasty fight on the rink which is nothing to be surprised about. There have been plenty of fights down here, some resulting in broken limbs and some going as far as a person on a stretcher.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Nightclubs are hands down Jungkook’s least favorite spot ever. He hates the smell, he hates the crowd and he hates how loud everything gets. If it weren’t for Yoongi, he would be at home chilling or overthinking. No one can tell.

Although, he’s not sure if he can even call that four walled room his ‘home’. It’s not home, it’s just a place he was given to stay at when he joined the federation and while he’s more than grateful for it, an empty, emotionless space where he only exists in can’t be qualified as a home.

However, he can’t stop wanting a place which is only his. A place he can share with someone he loves, wakeup next to her, cook with her, make memories with her. A home overflowing with laughter and giggles only.

Clearly, that murky ass house can never live up to that expectation not when it consists of a bathroom smaller than his fist, a bedroom which can’t fit more than 3 people at once and a kitchen he, for some reason, can’t get himself to cook in. He believes someday he’ll have that albeit the wait.

“Do you think I’m joking?” Taehyung’s voice is louder than ever before because of the surroundings. Sitting beside Namjoon as his hands fist a glass of old fashioned, he acts like he just spilled the most expensive beans.

He dramatically places one hand on his chest and turns to Jungkook, “Dude, tell him. Tell him how I got my dick pierced last week”

A chuckle leaves him, “Better yet, you can lose those pants and give him a live show”

The guys break out in fits of laughter.

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen my dick already, you twat. I did it for my girlfriend alright? Was this close to tattooing her name too but didn’t,” he holds up his thumb and forefinger to show how much,

“I don’t want my guy to swell and look like I accidentally got it stuck between a door or something.”

From his peripheral vision, Jungkook spots Destiny walking up to them looking like an absolute goddess. She’s wearing a shoulder strapped bodycon dress tonight with her hair curled in such a way that it makes her face look more feminine. He has seen so much of her in those scrubs that she’s doing things to him now. Hold your damn horses, Jungkook.

The poor guy can’t so much as look at her for too long or he’ll get hard. That’s something he can’t allow himself to do right here when all his friends are gathered. They’re never gonna let him live that down.

Maybe, when he’s alone he can fuck his hand with the thoughts of her taking him into that sweet mouth she’s got a bold red lipstick look going on. His cheeks turn crimson and he fights back a smile.

“Hey, guys” she greets them as she tucks a hair strand behind her ear. A gold hoop adorning her. God, she’s trying to kill him. She's like Jungkook’s own version of heaven.

The guys all smile up at her like she just asked them to give her a foot massage. Meanwhile, her eyes never land on Jungkook.

“Jimin, can I steal you for a second?” she hesitates.

“Sure” Jimin places down his drink and stands up. He walks up to her and rests his hand at the small of her back making Jungkook’s smile drop. Nice, he's getting jealous over a kind gesture now. Next thing you know, he'll be ending anyone who dares to breathe in her direction.

Namjoon shakes his head as he follows them both with his gaze. “Am I the only one who thinks they’re fucking?”

Yoongi dissolves into laughter while Taehyung spits out his drink. Almost. Jungkook? He finds nothing funny about it but refrains himself from saying something stupid in the heat of the moment.

“There’s some tension, yes. Can’t say anything about the fucking part though” says Yoongi.

“What do you think?”

“What?”

“Do you think they’re shagging?” asks Taehyung in a hushed voice.

“I think you assholes need therapy” With that he rests his own glass of drink on the table and walks away. Their voices calling out to him become more and more faint as he goes on.

He needs to find out what is it that gave rise to this sudden change in Destiny and if he’s the reason for it. His stomach churns as soon as the thought of her having something going with Jimin crosses his mind.

The guys were joking back there and given their proclivity of joking around, he takes their statements with a grain of salt. Howbeit, he can’t help but wonder the same.

The worst thing of all is he doesn’t have any right to feel this way. She’s not his and she might never be for all he knows. So maybe this is for the best, maybe if she keeps on discounting him like this, it would be slightly easier to forget her. Right?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Destiny

“What do you think you’re doing? This is a men's bathroom?” A guy who must be in his early twenties nearly pokes his finger in Jimin���s eyes. His gaze darts over to you as he gives you a disgusted look.

Jimin levels him with an intimidating glare, “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and we’ll be good. Yeah?”

He flashes you another appalling look, his nose flaring before he walks out. For a second you might even endorse with the guy but in your own defense, the club is buzzing with commotion and there was not a single space Jimin and you found where you both could have a proper conversation without anyone bumping into you. You spent quite the money on this dress and it'd be bummer to ruin it. It’s insane how crowded it is. So, here you are.

Jimin turns to you, his fingers still laced through yours for the sake of your safety. “I’m sorry for that”

You snatch your hand back. “No it’s totally fine. I mean it’s not usual for a guy to bring a woman in here” an awkward chuckles leaves you.

“It is”

Your smile drops, “Huh?”

“They do bring women in here. Well, let’s just say they do everything except have a talk”

Of course they do. God, this is more awkward than you imagined it would to be. You could die of embarrassment right now but if you don’t clear things up with him, it would be more humiliating to simply exist around him. You roll your shoulders back, plucking up enough courage.

“Let’s discuss the elephant in the room, shall we?”

He steps closer to you, just enough to catch you off guard but not enough to knock the breath out of your chest. There is someone else who's been doing that job lately.

“What elephant Destiny? The one about us having the best time together or how you left me the next morning? Alone and pathetic” he demands.

Well, knock me down with a feather.

Your mouth parts in shock, “I left you? You sneaked out, Jimin and you know it”

You wonder if he’s gonna come clean about that. If he’s gonna stop blaming you and take accountability for once. You guys did have the best time together and as short lived as it was, you regret nothing about that night until this point.

Now that he stands in front of you, accusing you of being so cowardly that you dared to leave him, it makes you question your own integrity.

He takes another step forward, automatically making you take one back as he searches your face. “So where were you when I woke up? Where were you when I reached my hand out and didn’t find you lying next to me, huh?” his voice barely a whisper.

Enough. You wouldn’t have bothered to stop the scream that’s begging to leave you had someone pointed a gun at your head. A gal can only take so much before she snaps.

“I WAS OUT THERE SEARCHING FOR MORNING AFTER PILLS”

The vacant bathroom echoes with your own words. The words you were holding back from saying out loud.

“I went in search of those, Jimin. Apparently, that’s what you’re supposed to do when you fuck each other and not take necessary precautions”

He stills, backing off as if you had slapped him. A heavy silence hangs in the air around you.

Jimin’s eyes flash with barely contained astonishment as he looks around trying to find words. When he doesn’t say anything, you take it as an opportunity to continue.

“You weren’t lying about us having a great time together. I accept that, we did have fun and I don’t regret it which honestly, I’m not so sure of now.”

A quick look of hurt passes through his face before he recovers.

“I was planning on staying back too oh… how badly I wanted to stay back but you have to understand that I was also at the prime of my career as a professional physical therapist. I couldn’t afford having a child, Jimin. Back then even the thought scared me. So, I left for a while, mentally promising you to come back. You were sleeping so soundly and you looked so beautiful and I didn’t want to disturb you—”

Your words come to an abrupt halt as he takes a long step towards you, backing you up against the white wall behind.

It’s not the same, your chest is not rising and falling rapidly like it did back then. Gosh, you couldn’t even speak in front of him. This time you’re immune to his eyes, his closeness and his warmth. Is this what they call healing?

“You should have” his brown eyes flash with hunger, “You should have disturbed me, Destiny. I would have woken up, ate you out, maybe fucked you again while wearing a condom, cuddled you and then accompanied you to the medical store.”

Oh fuck no, this is not happening. You’re not getting yourself back into this situation where he charms you with his mere words and leaves you cold. You deserve better than that.

You push him back with your palms on his chest, “Maybe, but I think I wouldn't have it any other way,”

You look straight into his eyes and nowhere else to make him feel how serious you are, leaving no room for uncertainty.

“Bella, my assistant, keeps saying that everything happens for a reason. It’s written up there," you point your forefinger up, "I feel the same about what went down with us. There was a reason why you left, there was a reason behind me not bothering to wake you up."

A bitter chuckle slips through your mouth, “Although, I can’t seem to grasp why the hell are you here?”

The way your heart is beating inside your chest, you might end up on a ventilator. It’s because you haven’t had much control of anything in your life, this feels particularly massive. This is one way for you to take back control, because it’s your choice and yours alone.

You try not to let the tears spill, “I asked you to spare me a few minutes just so I could talk to you about it but this isn’t how I imagined this conversation to go, Jimin. Regardless of that, I need you to do me a favor”

He holds your gaze. “What favor?”

You clear your burning throat, “I’m requesting you to please not initiate any conversation about our past with any of the guys. That could pretty much cost me my job and yours.”

He offers you a stern nod, “You have my word”

With that you turn and walk around just like you always do and always should when it’s time. Only this time, you don’t feel victorious. Instead, the feeling of utter shock rushes through your body because standing outside is the only person you had been avoiding to say the least.

You flinch. “Jungkook?”

He’s leaning back against the cold wall with his hands inside his front pockets, head hanging low. You can’t make his face out because of the darkness.

He frantically lifts up his head when he hears you calling, looking as surprised as you, “Hey, I— wait, why are you coming out of the men’s room?”

You shift on your feet, folding your hands in front of you. “What? OH !! Well, I had some business with Jimin and this felt like a nice place to.. you know”

You can’t talk for the life of you. How do you explain yourself to him without word vomiting? But then you think better of it and just shake your head.

“You know what? Never mind that. What about you? Why are you standing here like someone just broke your heart?”

No fucking way did you just say that. What is this? A bollywood movie? You immediately feel like you hit a nerve when his face falls, causing you to curse yourself.

He’s silent for a moment before he stands up straight. “You could say that”

“Wait, really?”

Yet again you’re struggling to breathe, a spark of curiosity threatening to rise up. Why do you care about his heart? He’s been all but rude to you every day since you’ve begun working by his side so why would you care if someone put his bloody heart in a blender? You have been assigned to take care of his body, what happens unrelated to that is none of your business.

Except, you do. There is a teeny tiny part of you that cares. Though, you can’t say if it’s the doctor inside of you or something else. Something which could ruin you and save you all at once.

“Who is it?” you ask in a small voice.

His eyes rank behind you and he pulls you close to him by grabbing your arm. You see a man passing by, faltering on his own under the influence of probably the sheer amount of alcohol inside him.

When you look up, you have to swallow a gasp. Jungkook’s face is so close to you, you can almost count his moles. The one under his lips is begging to be kissed and you hold yourself back from grabbing him by his jacket as you kiss the hell out of him.

Wait what?!

He looks down at you, his eyes burning with something you can’t pinpoint. It’s like a mixture of anger and adoration. Soft lips brush your temples as your heart beats out of your chest.

“It’s not safe here. Why don’t you go join Bella? If I break another nose it’ll cost me good”

You lean back, still in his arms. It would be nice if you get out of his hold. You should shove him away too exactly like you did with Jimin but for some reason, you can’t. His hold is safe, cozy. It reminds you of your grandmas cookie recipe. Warm and lovely.

“Another nose? Did you get into a fight?”

He breaks away, turning his back to you but you clutch his forearm as you hold him back before he can bolt.

“You know the PR is gonna make your life a living hell. What did you do?”

His jaw sets instinctively as he looks at you for a moment before speaking.

“Destiny, if you don’t want me kissing that sweet mouth of yours and imprint my name on it for once and for all, get the fuck out of here.” he rasps.

That's it. Flashbacks of that night and that fucking dream consume you. It doesn't help at all that he looks so dashing tonight in all black. Black leather jacket, black pants and his black boots. You're having visions you shouldn't have. They're nice. Farfetched but nice, nonetheless.

You release his hand like it will set you have you combust if you keep holding onto it for even a moment longer. You turn around, with the intent of getting out of his proximity when his voice stops you.

“Destiny”

You don’t turn around because something is telling you if you do, you will never be the same.

“My life turned into a living hell the moment you stopped looking at me”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook

Jungkook is dying. 

Figuratively, of course.

He should have taken Destiny seriously when she said that the PR is going to make his life miserable once he gets to know about the mess he had made. His phone is buzzing on the kitchen counter. He knows who it is but he doesn’t pick up.

Instead, he just waits until it stops ringing. Jungkook can see it all playing out in his head. He will be called to the PR’s office as soon as he enters the academy and the PR is gonna ask him why he did what he did, Jungkook will then tell him that he's a a man of virtue, he will ask him to repent and tell him to fuck off. Very classic. Been there, done that. 

He drops his head low, palms splayed in front of him. Calling last night chaotic would be an understatement. He said things he shouldn’t have and heard things he hoped he wouldn’t. It was not deliberate, of course. He would like to call it a spur of the moment.

Alright, he was fucking jealous. There he said it. He was jealous of Park Jimin because that man was touching who Jungkook had been longing for, he was talking to the women Jungkook had been begging to look at him once and allow him to breathe. 

When he reaches the academy, he quickly asks about Destiny’s whereabouts and goes on to find her. He thinks his knee needs to be discussed because he can’t risk not playing the next game.

He's not sure if he's prepared for the uneasiness that's about to welcome itself but– god if you’re listening, help him, he prepares himself as much as he possibly can. 

Raising his hand to make a fist, he knocks on her office door. This would be his first time inside, if she would even let him in.

“Come in” her voice reaches Jungkook. 

He takes a long deep breath and pushes the door wide open. Stepping inside he looks at her sitting in her chair with glasses resting on top of her button nose. She looks so adorable. He doesn’t think he has ever seen her with glasses on but he approves. 

“Jungkook? Is everything okay?” 

Is it? Why is she acting like everything about last night was a dream? Did I imagine it all? Jungkook wonders.

He slips his hands inside his front pockets and nods, “My knee is acting a bit weird. I wanted to get it checked. See if there’s anything serious.” 

She takes her glasses off and rises to her feet. Pointing to one of the chairs, she says, “Sit down and let me have a look”

He does what she asked as he leans back to make himself comfortable. An eerie silence surrounds them, making every inch of Jungkook's body stiff as he grips the armrests of the chair a bit tighter. He doesn’t let it appear that way of course. He’d rather die. 

When she’s satisfied, she gets down on her knees and looks up at him. The visual is lethal but not something which he hasn’t already imagined.

He's not entirely proud to say that he has had the privilege of seeing her on her knees in his dreams, in the darkness of his bathroom, in his fantasies. He's seen it all but the real sight nearly makes him blow his load.

What do you think happens to a man who witnesses a queen getting down on her knees for him? Ask Jungkook. Mentally thanking himself for not wearing the sweatpants, he prepares to answer any of her questions.

“Do you wanna tell me what caused this?” 

“There um, there was a fight back at the game. I felt a slight pain in the changing room but didn’t think much of it. Thought I’d let you know about it.” 

She smiles, “Well I’m proud of you for that minus the fighting part. I’m sure you’ll be discussing that in the PR’s office” 

As she’s examining any possible pulls or cracks, he thinks about apologizing to her about last night. To be very honest, he's tired of this awkward silence every time he's around her. Not talking is one thing, walking on eggshells around each other is another. He wants her to behave the same way she does with the rest of the boys. 

“Destiny, I needed to talk to you about something” 

She looks up again, her eyes filled with curiosity. 

“Sure. Was something else hurt during the fight?” 

“What? No. I wanted to talk about last night” 

She stiffens as her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. Fuck, why is his heart beating so fast? Wait, is he sweating? 

Then she shrugs, talking in a casual tone. “I don’t think it’s worth talking about” 

“Why?” Jungkook can’t help but ask.

“Well,” she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes, “You and I both were drunk and people do stupid stuff when they’re drunk so.”

“There was not a single drop of alcohol in my system. However, whatever I said was in the spur of the moment.” he says wording his previous thoughts, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I’m sorry” 

She’s quiet for a moment before she lowers her head and mumbles something. 

“WellIhadasexdreamaboutyousoweareeveniguess”

He lowers down his own head, trying to listen clearly, ‘What was that?”

“I said I had a sex dream about you so we’re even” as soon as the words slip out of her, she claps a hand over her mouth. Her eyes wide as saucers. Meanwhile, he just sits there wondering if he heard her right or his brain is as fucked as his knee. 

His mouth goes dry as he keeps looking at her. He feels like someone just dumped a bucket full of ice water on his head. She had a sex dream about him? When? How was it? 

“It was uh okay” 

Kill him, kill him now because he said that out loud. See, this is what he means when he says he messes up every time he's in front of her. That’s exactly what the last thought that crosses his head before he pulls her by the back of her neck and smashes his lips on hers. Fuck it, he can’t take it anymore.

When she kisses him with the same amount of passion and hunger, he resists himself from hoisting her up on the table and eating her sweet cunt. She matches every movement of his lips. Hers suck his before his take her pink and pillowy ones. 

Within seconds, he has her caged in his arms. A low moan slips past her lips as she clutches onto Jungkook's shoulders for support, his fingers digging into the sides of her waist. Is this what feels like to kiss Kim Destiny? Is he actually touching and tasting her?

She tastes like cherries and bubblegum and he swears he's tasted nothing sweeter. He wants to have this taste every day on his tongue, and wants to remember it till the day he takes his last breath. Maybe, even longer than that. 

He pulls back and cups her cheek, running his thumb along her lower lip as she catches her breath. She’s got her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling against his. Jungkook can feel her hard nipples through her scrubs.

Someone shakes him by the shoulders and he snaps out, blinking rapidly. He looks around and finds himself sitting on the very chair Destiny asked him to but when a feminine voice calls out his name, it's not hers.

“Well, watching my best friend on her knees in front of my step brother was not the visual I thought I needed”

Turns out, it takes a lot to make that someone up there 'happy' because standing in front of him is his only step sister. It's hilarious how unpredictable life happens to be. After all, not only did he imagine kissing Destiny after she told him about her little sex dream but will now have to figure out how to face his sister without wanting to hurl himself out the window.

Can he catch a break?

Taglist - @keylime4eva @xumyboo @jash719 @dmstoyangyang @pitchblack0309 @withluvjm @chaelvrx @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw (ilusm and thank you for reading <3)

[eleonoraalbright]

An Ill-Timed Confession Part 2

Pairing: Peter Pan x fem!reader (kinda)

Summary: Peter Pan is loose in Storybrooke with revengeful schemes. Fortunately for you, the heroes and villains have a plan to stop him.

Other Parts: Part 1 _ Part 3

A/N: Thank you for the kind comments left on An Ill-Timed Confession Part 1! They really motivated me to write a second part.

Careful not to trip over any headstones, you paced the forest’s floor in a restless manner. A few yards away Mr. Gold stretched out a hand, attempting to undo the magical wards Regina had placed around her vault. Bell was behind him offering silent encouragement for his swift success.

Tinkerbell, Baelfire, and Captain Hook stood off to one side; their faces betraying various degrees of distrust and doubt. Mary Margret, David, and Emma were in a separate group, talking in hushed voices. They seemed to be having an argument.

That left you and Henry alone. You stole a glance towards the boy who was still trapped in Pan’s body. For the hundredth time that day, you cursed yourself and your big mouth. Speech is silver, but silence is golden.

Oh, how you wished you had remembered that saying when accidentally telling Pan that he was hot. Why did you have this knack for getting yourself into these almost laughable scenarios? At least, it would have been laughable if you weren’t the person in it. Right now, the set of circumstances was terrifying.

At any moment, Pan could command his shadow to rip your own shadow from you, or worse abduct you. And what would happen then? You would be at his mercy until the others managed to switch Henry and Pan to their rightful bodies. If they ever did.

You knew from Henry’s storybook and real-life experiences that good somehow always did triumph in the end, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any casualties. What if this was the one time you didn’t make it to see the light of day?

Henry noticed you staring at him and raised an eyebrow in question, which sent another ripple of unease down your spine. Gods above and below, he was attractive when he did that.

In truth he was attractive all the time, but that cute little eyebrow quirk made your heart do a flip. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t Pan, he was Henry who was your dearest and closest friend for many years and someone you didn’t feel for in that way.

And even if he was Peter Pan, he would want to inflict such torment on everyone here in the graveyard that they would beg for death’s sweet release to escape him.

Peter Pan should not be the type of person who turned your insides into mush, your legs to jelly, made your heart beat faster and faster until it would burst from your chest leaving a bloody and gaping wound behind, and grant the death you craved for so you would not have to face the consequences of admitting to Pan himself that he was blessed genetically!

“Can you stop looking at me like that?” Henry’s words broke you out of your wild and frenzied thoughts. He shifted his weight to his other foot, avoiding your gaze and went on, “Like you want to kiss or stab me. Or both. It’s pretty weird.”

Hoping against all hope that you weren’t blushing, you let out a big sigh and dragged a hand down your face. You had to get these turbulent feelings under control for Henry’s sake. Being stuck in his great-grandfather’s body with his friend ogling him must have been a nightmare.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just have a lot of thoughts running through my mind and–” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t think we’ll win this time.”

He was startled at your blunt statement. “What? Of course we will. We have to. All we have to do is get me in my body and Pan in his body. Then we’ll imprison him and we’ll win.”

You snorted at your friend’s naiveté. You were sure that Mr. Gold had something more in mind than imprisonment for his father. The Pied Piper clearly couldn’t be stopped by simple incarceration; he had thousands of tricks up his sleeve to free himself.

Pan needed to die. As tasteless as killing was, what other option was there? You tried to cast away your misgivings about the possibility of overcoming Pan. You had to believe that victory and survival would be on your side, which was easier said than done.

“I’m afraid that Pan will put us all through the nine circles of hell. And I-I can’t go through that again.” Tears blurred your vision and your knees wobbled so bad that Henry had to help you stand up right as unbidden memories leaped into your mind about your hellish existence in a life lived long ago.

“It’ll be okay. My mom will save us. She’s the savior, it's kinda her thing.” Henry knew about your past. He read the story in his book, but that didn’t mean he would fully understand the terrors you had endured or why everything seemed so hopeless. You heard a sudden whoosh and saw the vault’s door creak open.

“Shall we?” Mr. Gold marched into the gloomy interior.

Emma, Mary Margret, David, Tinkerbell, Baelfire, Bell, and Captain Hook followed him. Emma ordered, “Wait here until we know the coast is clear.”

Normally you wouldn’t obey and would rush head first into danger, but a moment was needed to calm your addled mind. Besides, if Pan was in there, you weren’t too eager to see him. You took hold of your senses and forced air up your nose and out your mouth. This wasn’t the time to have a breakdown.

You needed to be composed for Henry's sake, even with his newly acquired height, he looked up to you for how to react to the ongoing madness in Storybrooke. Well, he used to, maybe that changed in the last twenty-four hours with you acting like a twitterpated school girl.

You heard Emma yell, “We’re clear down here!”

You and Henry raced downstairs to see the group clustered around Regina. The mayor was disoriented and brushing invisible flecks of dust off her pants. She was in the middle of saying, “–missed all the signs. I just wanted to believe he still needed me to be his mother.”

Without missing a beat, the boy next to you soothed her fear. “I still do.”

Regina gasped, “Henry?” She tilted her head in bewilderment and narrowed her eyes, not convinced he was her son.

He walked over and threw his arms around her. It was a touching scene to witness. Too bad you didn’t have a camera; it would be hilarious to have a picture of the former Evil Queen sharing an embrace with the Pied Piper.

Meanwhile, David asked a very pertinent question. “So what exactly did Pan come down here to get?” Mr. Gold raised his hand over an empty box before jerking it back, a frown fixed on his features. “What?”

A hint of exasperation leaked into the older man’s voice as he said, “Please tell me you didn’t keep it down here.”

Regina appeared to be almost contrite and she shrugged her shoulders. “Where else would I keep it?”

For a moment you thought Mr. Gold would strangle Regina with her own scarf or beat her with his cane. To what thing were they referring? You broke the heavy silence. “What is it? What did Pan take?”

Henry's grandfather answered, “He took the curse that brought everyone from the Enchanted Forest to Storybrooke.”

You sat down next to Henry with an arm thrown around his shoulders. He was nervous, fiddling in his seat. You couldn’t blame him; this was a high stakes situation.

When Mr. Gold used the black fairy’s wand to place him back in his proper body, Henry would have to find his family and give Regina the scroll so she could destroy it before the curse transformed Storybrooke into the New Neverland and made everyone in town Pan’s slaves.

Worried for his well-being, Emma asked her son, “You doing okay, kid?”

“Yeah, I’m just ready to be me again.”

“Not much longer now, Henry. Not much longer.” Mr. Gold flipped through his spell book. “Once we have the wand, all will be as it should.”

“And then you can help your mom save the day,” you added with a smile. It was your turn to provide reassurance whether or not you actually had confidence in this plan. No, no, that wasn’t right. You had to have hope that this would work out.

You would imitate Mary Margret and fully accept that a happy ending was in the future. “And when this blows over, we can have another party at Granny’s. Hopefully with more cake than last time because the sisters really plowed through them.”

Henry liked your suggestion. “That’d be nice. And maybe I don't have to have a bedtime either?”

Regina vetoed the idea. “Absolutely not, young man. You need your sleep, especially after all of this.”

The sound of footsteps stopped a discussion of the correct amount of sleep for a boy Henry’s age. David walked into the room with the rest of the gang behind him. “She’s back. The Blue Fairy. She gave us the wand.”

You exclaimed, “That’s great! Do we need anything else?”

“Only one more item.” Mr. Gold crossed to a cupboard and retrieved a black cuff and explained, when Snow inquired, that it would render anyone with magic utterly powerless.

Regina snapped at Hook, “I haven’t forgotten about all that, by the way.”

“May I see your wrist, Henry?” Ignoring her comment, he placed the cuff on his grandson. “I want to make sure that when my dear old dad awakes, that he’s weakened. This will block his powers. Now I enact the spell, you fall into a deep sleep and when you awake, you’re back in your own body.”

Regina told him, “And then you hang on to that scroll and you come find us as fast as you can.”

Henry contemplated their words then scoffed, “When I gave my heart to Pan, I thought I was being a hero… I'm sorry.”

You patted him on the back. David was about to speak, but you spoke first. “It was stupid thing to do, but it’s not like anyone here hasn’t done anything that stupid too.” You didn’t pay attention to the glares a few select people sent your way, and instead focused on Henry’s laugh.

Mr. Gold said it was time and you stood up as Henry laid back on the divan, apprehensive of what was to come soon. Everyone retreated a couple of steps back and watched the process. Mr. Gold tapped the wand on his forehead and, after a blinding flash of light, Pan’s body started violently convulsing.

“What’s happening?” Emma shared a concerned look with Baelfire.

“Henry’s spirit is leaving Pan’s body.”

You hoped Pan wasn’t anywhere near concrete. If Henry’s body dropped to the ground and hit his head, he was going to wake up with a bad ache. He stopped shaking and remained still.  “It worked!”

You were delighted the spell had been fortunate, however, some part of you was a tad sad. You wouldn’t be able to squish his cheeks again. You could try, but Pan would most likely chop your hands off for such an affront. No matter, there were more important things to do.

“Let’s go find our son.” Emma darted out of the shop with everyone except Mr. Gold and Pan accompanying her. “Where would he be?”

You proposed, “Let’s get Ruby or Granny! They’ll be able to track his smell!” Emma agreed with you and went to the diner to enlist Granny’s keen nose for the job. The elderly woman sniffed the air and it didn’t take long for her to pick up his scent. You ran down the street toward the clock tower and were overjoyed when you saw Henry—in his own body—run out of the library doors.

“It’s me! It’s me! It worked!” Both of his mothers enveloped him in a big hug. “Mom, Mom. I just saw you guys. You guys just saw me.”

 “But we didn’t see you.” Regina cupped his chin.

“And trust me that makes a real difference!” You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed him tight, glad that Henry returned to his rightful body.

“Oh, he’s got it,” Emma said as her son gave her the scroll. She passed it to Regina. “It’s up to you now.”

The mayor hadn’t held the scroll for even five seconds when a bright flash of purple light illuminated from it and she passed out cold. “Regina! Regina!” You, Henry, Emma and Baelfire crouched next to her.

Dammit, with Regina unconscious, who could undo Pan’s curse? There couldn’t be that much time left. Emma continued to call Regina’s name and shake her. Gasping, Regina opened her eyes. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I just… I saw what needed to be done.”

“Mom, are you gonna be okay?”

You had a gut feeling that she wasn’t. As you suspected, she side-stepped his concern. “The important thing is you will be.”

The scroll vanished from Regina’s grasp. “No, he won’t.”

Your stomach dropped when you heard the dreaded voice. Your head whipped backwards to see Pan walking towards the group. Everyone backed up several paces. You shouted, “Watch out! He has the–”

You were cut short as an eerie red glow alighted over your and everybody else's bodies. It was as if molasses had coated your entire person, slowing down your movements until it hardened. The enchantment froze every single one of your limbs; it was difficult even to breathe.

Beaming from ear-to-ear, Pan finished your sentence. “Curse.  How observant that I do. Look at you all. A captive audience.” He took his time inspecting each and everyone of you. His gaze lingered on you last. “I could play with you like a pack of dolls, couldn’t I? You’d like that, wouldn't you?”

He pointed an accusing finger in your direction. He came closer and whispered, “I have a special treat for you for that wonderful but woefully timed statement you confessed to me. It was delightful to know the peculiar effect I have on you.”

You were grateful that your features were frozen to hide the terror swirling and building up inside you. Had you the ability to move, the road would have been sprayed with your vomit. Relief overtook you when Mr. Gold hobbled up to his father and gripped his shoulder. Rumplestiltskin could save everyone right? He growled, “Stay away from them.”

Pan performed the same freezing spell on his son. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, you haven't learned your lesson, have you Rumple? You should’ve stayed where you were, cowering, but I suppose you wanted a front row seat when my little curse descends upon your woved ones. Glutton for punishment, aren’t you? Don’t worry. They’ll be more of that. For all of you.” Pan disappeared without a trace and you were released from his spell.

You collapsed to the ground in a heap. Your fingernails dug into the cracked pavement. Everything was numb. Around you the others were talking in frantic voices, trying to figure out a way to thwart Pan’s plan, to find a miracle to save the day.

Someone was crying out that the curse was here. In the distance, getting closer and closer, you saw the green smoke that signified the town’s demise. You failed. 

Nothing could be done about that. You would forget your memories, forget your family and friends, forget who you were and become Pan’s plaything.

The thick smoke obscured your surroundings and filled your lungs. Your brain was getting foggy; it was too exhausting to think. You should sleep. One final thought echoed through your mind—Peter Pan won.

[museaux]

Folded - Andrew “Pope” Cody x Reader

warnings: 18+, violence, break-up, reader goes back to pope, possessiveness, toxic relationship, light smut/implied smut

wc: 2.7k

author’s note: hi guys! so this is a fic inspired by kehlani’s newest single folded (which you can listen to here). i have played this song OUT and could not get this idea out of my head. i strongly suggest you listen to the song for the second half of the fic written in y/n’s pov. alsooooo i guess this could be a prequel to ‘solace’ or something? idk but anyway, enough from me, happy reading!

p.s.: for my anime girlies, i will be making a version of this with toji fushiguro (screaming without the ‘s’ already omg)

divider by: cafekitsune

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

With a huff, y/n hopped out of Andrew’s truck and slammed the door behind her. This is it. She mumbled to herself as she stalked to her front door. Just as a hand reached to fish for her keys, his isolated voice called out from his position in the driver’s seat. 

“Wait.” Against her better judgment, y/n’s hand paused its rummaging. After a moment, she was moving again, slower this time, the slam of the driver’s side door causing her to let out a breath. Growing anxious, she glanced back as she thumbed through her bag. Great day to pick the world’s biggest purse, she thought. He was on her in an instant, standing close as always, his presence dark, breath warming her neck. Personal space was non-existent with him, and it was something she had grown accustomed to. Tonight, though, it was different. Stifling. Like he was intending to actually trap her. Hands finally landing on her keys, she unblocked the door and took a step inside. “What?” she huffed, turning around, trying to sound unbothered. 

Taking in a sharp breath of his own, Andrew stood in the doorway, not knowing what to say. He wasn’t very good at relationships; his mother had made sure of that. Still, he knew that he needed to smooth things over. As a Cody, Andrew wasn’t brought up to prioritize relationships outside of his family. He had difficulty with nearly every aspect of life outside of them. However, over the past 6 months, he had been leaning into a secret semblance of normalcy with y/n, a barista he had come to know. She worked at the coffee shop not too far from his house, and for whatever reason, she had given him her number. 

Maybe that made her just as unstable as him; he couldn’t quite tell. She was upset at his testy (at best) temper. He had hauled off and punched her friend square in the face because of what he thought was happening. 

— flashback —

Her friend, Tyler, was apparently someone she had grown up with back in her hometown. She was having dinner with him, something she had forgotten to mention to Andrew just hours before, as she watched him skate and he watched her eat ice cream. He had tried to call her multiple times after their mid-morning hangout to no avail. Against his better judgment, he checked the location she had shared with him recently, where she was pinged at a fancy local restaurant. 

He didn’t really understand the anger that had flown through him when he saw her seated and smiling from ear to ear across the table from a handsome man he didn’t know. One thing led to another, and there he was, standing in front of the man and introducing his face to his fist. For a brief moment, he froze, looking at what he had done. y/n’s loud gasp and Tyler’s now red face caused him to detach almost as if it wasn’t him that had just disrupted their diner. But then his hand twitched. Y/N shoved him, eyes wild with shock and anger. He had indeed punched the guy and, without thinking, grabbed her and left the restaurant. In the parking lot, he had made her get in his truck and drove her home, her friend left bleeding on the nice white table and the meal that was set before them. 

The pair argued the whole ride to her place, or rather, she yelled at him as he drove rigidly. She had told him this was it for her; she couldn’t deal with him being so secretive and overprotective without reason. 

— present —

He knew he had messed up, and now here he was, speechless, standing in her doorway as her hands found their way to her supple hips, a distant and angry look in her deep [your eye color] eyes. Yet again, before he knew it, he had made the worst choice possible by asking: “What’s wrong? You’re not talking. You were just yelling, and now you’re not—” 

“Please tell me you did not just ask me that, Andrew,” she cut him off with a dry laugh, head tilting back, whispering ‘Oh my God’ under her breath. Distracted by her movements, Andrew couldn’t help but take note of the way her exposed neck shimmered with specks of glitter from the sweet-smelling cocoa butter moisturizer she always used. The chocolatey smell reminded him of a bakery and complemented her brown skin beautifully. He was enamoured by the stretch of her neck in the soft light of the street lamps and entryway. The soft skin pulled tight as her throat moved stiffly. He couldn’t help but wish her laugh was more genuine, like that time he had tripped over himself, picking her up for their first real date. He had forgotten to open her door. Upon remembering, he clumsily rushed to the passenger side to help her in. That time her laugh was like a coat of honey over his ears, sticky and sweet. Ever the observer, Andrew loved the little things about her. He liked the way it made him feel, making her laugh and being in her presence. 

Now, however, she stood in front of him exhausted and looking down, whispering, “Go home, Andrew. I can’t do this. We’re done.” 

“What?” he blinked. 

“We. Are. Done. Is that enough talking for you, or do I have to spell it out? I need space, please.” She had felt terrible as the words spilled out of her mouth, but she couldn’t find any other way to say it. His overbearingness was too much for her. They hadn’t even put a label on whatever was going on between them. He had no right to pop up and ruin her evening. He wouldn’t let her in, and in the same breath, infiltrated her space. Constantly. She was done. 

Mouth agape as though he would say something, Andrew slowly backed up and down the few steps that led up to y/n’s door. His eyes had glazed over as he looked at her, saying nothing but feeling everything. This is how it always goes. He thought to himself. Another woman he had scared away by being his off-putting self. Another victim of his inability to exist outside of Smurf’s control. He hated himself for his actions and even more so now that they had driven away what was becoming the only good thing about him.

— three weeks later, your pov —

Staring at the ceiling, I watched the fan spin round and round for God knows how long. My mind was cloudy as I went over my last conversation with Andrew—the one where I decided to call it quits. It was weeks ago now, but it feels like just hours since he punched Tyler and drove me home, where I put a full stop to his possessive behavior. 

Looking back, I realize I may have been harsh, but in the moment, there was no other way to say it—I needed him to fall back. To leave, so I could actually think. 

He’d only called once—the very next day at lunchtime—but I didn’t answer. I watched the phone ring, and when it stopped, I turned it off. It hurt to do that, really, but if I hadn’t put a stop to things then, who knows what could’ve happened? More apologizing to friends he had gone and punched in the face? Something worse?

Regardless, I can’t help but miss him like crazy. He’s the kind of person who grows on you, but once he does, he sticks to you, and you don’t mind because he can be really sweet and careful, loving, and kind. In the months we had come to know each other, I found myself falling for him hard. Maybe that’s why I had dismissed early signs of his possessive nature. Of his inability to engage socially the way I had been used to with my partners. He was different, to say the least, but that’s what drew me to him. It started off with me thinking he just needed a hug and someone to talk to, but of course, as fate would have it, it turned into something more quicker than anticipated. 

Who am I kidding? Crazy, guarded, and possessive or not—I just might love the guy.

“It’s so silly of me to act like I don’t need you bad, when all, all I can think about is us since I seen you last.” 

A ping from my dryer brought me back to reality. I got up and opened the single drawer of my nightstand that held a few pairs of boxers, t-shirts and a pair of jeans. I tossed them into a nearby laundry basket and marched to the dryer, where I found two more of Andrew’s shirts and a pair of underwear mixed in with mine. Making my way back to the living room, I placed the basket on the coffee table, skewing the small stack of books he had meticulously arranged on the table’s center when he found out I liked mystery books. After a while of more idle staring, I decided I would neatly fold his remaining clothing items and give him a call (to come pick up his clothes, of course). 

“I know I didn’t have to walk away. All I had to do was ask for space. I’m telling you, be on your way, when I told you to fall back.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Am I crazy? My finger hovered over his contact. 

I just told him I needed space, and he’s given me that. Is it right to just…call him back like this? 

Emotions are clearly a difficult thing for Andrew to process. I miss him, but do I really want to let him back into my life? Fuck.

Question after question raced through my mind. What do you do when you fall for someone but need to put yourself first? How do you justify reopening a door that should probably stay closed? It’s not like we ever put a name to what we had going on, it was nothing serious—or was it? 

Another sigh. Whatever, just one call, tell him to pick up his shit, hand it to him and close the door. That can’t hurt…right? 

As I pressed call and brought the phone up to my ear, the line rang once before Andrew’s voice washed over me, and my rational self flew out the window. 

“Hello? y/n?” his stutter over my name made me blush. He sounded surprised. 

“Um, h-hi, Andrew.” Here I was, just as nervous.

“Hi.” There was silence as my head found its way into my free hand. 

Taking a deep breath, I got right to the point. “Yeah, um, can you come pick up your clothes? They were in my laundry and in that drawer you use, and I just—I have them folded. So, you can come pick ‘em up.” I  sighed, fumbling over my words, and hung up before he could respond. No matter what he does, he’s left a mark. I mean, he’s in my laundry, my kitchen, my bathroom…my bedroom. 

“Meet me at the door while it’s still open. I know it’s getting cold out, but it’s not frozen. So come pick up your clothes, I have them folded.”

It was as if mere seconds passed before a heavy knock sounded at my front door. I jumped, startled by the sound, and upon realizing it was Andrew, my mouth grew dry and my heart rate began to quicken. I took a quick look in the mirror and fluffed my fro out where it had molded to my head from lying down earlier, and gave myself a once-over. I wasn’t wearing anything special, just a pair of shorts and a cropped graphic tee. I tried to steady myself, but had the wind nearly knocked out of me as I opened the door. His hair had grown out, and it was curlier than I remember. It suited him very well. He was dressed as simply as I was: a black shirt, dark-wash jeans that hugged his thighs just right. plain shoes. That was his style, though, simple yet clearly effective. 

My eyes met his steely green ones, and I was gone. Everything I had planned to say, how cold I had intended to act; it all went out the window as he stood before me. 

“Andrew.” I breathed.

“I, um, I came to get my stuff. Like you said.”

He was just as nervous as I was. His hand reached to scratch the back of his neck as he looked around. Wordlessly, I stepped aside. As he walked past me and into my living room, my hand, for the briefest of seconds, brushed against the hem of his shirt. I closed my eyes and inhaled. He didn’t smell like anything, but that is what made him smell like him. My Andrew. Clean and bare. I always liked how he smelled after spending the night; the way my perfumes and butters clung to his skin was heavenly and unique, mixed with his own nothingness and sweat. 

“So…” he trailed off. I could feel his fiery gaze all over as I turned to close and lock the door behind him. I greatly underestimated how his being here in the flesh would affect me. As his eyes roamed over me, I could feel heat pooling deep in my belly. When I spoke next, his eyes flicked up to meet mine. 

“Yeah, I folded your clothes. They’re right here.” With a tight smile, I brushed past him and went to the coffee table that had his clothes neatly folded on top of it. 

My body temperature was steadily on the rise the longer I was in his presence. I hadn’t felt like this in years. My body began to ache as I felt him move closer and closer until he stood directly behind me. 

When he spoke, I shivered and let out a shaky breath. 

“Sorry,” he breathed, his head moving from my right ear to my left. And this, y/n, is why we do laundry on time. 

“F-for what?” I stuttered. 

“For punching that guy…Tyler. Sorry.” 

I let out a slight chuckle at how he’d said his name. At this point, I was taken aback by his apology and his closeness. When I turned to face him, clothes still waiting on the table, I could’ve fallen to my knees at the look in his eyes. Right now, I don’t need his apology or empty promises. All I needed was his closeness. The feeling of his hot breath on my face and neck, his gaze that made me feel like I was the only other person in the world. 

“I don’t need no morе empty promises, promise mе that you got it. I don’t need roses, just need some flowers from my garden.”

What little resolve I had left was quickly dissipating as I looked up at him. I stood still, save for the subtle clenching of my thighs around nothing. The ball was in his court now, I was putty in his hands, and I don’t even think he knew.   

“I’ll let your body decide if this is good enough for you. Already folding it for you. Already folding up for you.”

I could tell by the tension that had begun to settle between his brows that his mind was racing about what to do next, but I remained patient. I left just enough distance between us for him to bail if he needed to. His eyes locked on mine, and I could feel the mutual longing radiating off of him as he seemed to stop breathing for a moment. Out of instinct, my breath caught as well, and I realized just how badly I wanted him to stay. 

“Y-your clothes…” My voice was just above a whisper as it cracked. Before I could move, Andrew’s hands held the sides of my face gently, more gently than he had ever touched me before. 

“Yeah, my clothes.” By now, our double meanings were obvious, and his mouth found mine in a kiss that swept me off my feet. 

[rafeysafterglow]

fresh out the slammer, i know who my first call will be to

pairing: exfling!rafe x reader summary: you break up with your longtime boyfriend and immediately find yourself in the arms of an ex summer fling, rafe cameron cw: smut with plot, thigh riding, cowgirl, unprotected pinv, making out, orgasm denial, kind of desperate reader & rough rafe, overstim, creampie, semi public, 18+ mdni a/n: the second installment of my ttpd series !! sorry for taking so long writers block was kicking my ass 😓 made myself a blueberry smoothie and forced myself to sit down and write (it was delish) also yesterday was ttpd’s one year cake, happy bday to an album that changed me !

ttpd series masterlist ♡

for six years, you were in a devoted relationship. now, though, it was obvious he had his gaze towards someone else. another summer taking cover, he doesn’t understand you. he doesn’t understand your need for a raging, kissing-in-the-rain romance. something chaotic and wild. your relationship with him was the complete opposite, the chemistry was nowhere to be found. you felt trapped, too scared to pull the trigger because, for six years, this is all you’ve known.

towards the end of the relationship, you fantasized about somebody else. your desires left unfilled led your mind to travel back in time, to a summer seven years ago, when you were still a clueless new tourist on the island. being forced to attend a bonfire party by your local friend landed you in the lap of resident kook king, rafe cameron. that same night, your back was laid across the beach, sand sticking against your wet body after skinny dipping together, and rafe on top of you, his cock abusing your cunt. the following morning, you had to go back home.

even now, seven years later, that night is still engraved in your mind. whenever you were horny and needy, you would run through that night’s events with your hand inside your panties. your boyfriend could never make you come as hard as the memories of that night, the memories of rafe cameron.

after a long-due breakup, your body was burning up with desperate hunger. it has been a while since you had an earth-shattering orgasm, and you knew there was only one person that could make that happen for you. that realization is how you found yourself packing your bags and booking a ticket to outer banks.

you acknowledged what a crazy idea this was. you didn’t stop to think about the fact that seven years had passed, rafe could be married now. but you pushed the thought away. you felt deserving of this madness because the last relationship sucked the life out of you.

you found yourself in the same beach as that night. coincidently, it was filled with people, the air engulfed in smoke, and deafening music could be heard miles away. it was a bonfire. before your common sense could talk you out of it, you made your way into the crowd.

after spending a whole five minutes, you knew you were done. this was a stupid idea, what were you thinking? as you made your way out, a voice stopped you. it was him. it was rafe cameron, in the flesh. he was here, in the same place, at the same time as you. he was sitting on the grass, one leg up, his hand holding a bottle of beer. he was chatting with the people around him, his laugh sent a chill down your back. his hair was different, gone was the long greasy bangs, and in place was a buzzcut.

your body was immediately burning up. the sight of him after all these years just turned on every part of your body, which you didn’t think was possible after spending over half a decade stuck in a sexless relationship.

you don’t know how long you stood there, staring at him. your stare drew holes into his head. somehow, he can feel someone in the crowd looking at him. he scans the pool of people before him before landing on you. for a long second, he does’t recognize you, doesn’t have an idea why this random girl was staring at him. then, it clicked. flashes of long sighs, sweaty bodies, dirty sand, and loud waves crashing plague his mind. he sat up straight and stared back.

hours later, you find yourself hiding in the weeds, straddling rafe and desperately sucking his face off while his hands roam across your back. his sneaky fingers grabbed the bottom of your shirt and you broke off the kiss to lift it over your head. you wasted no time connecting your lips to his again while rafe fumbles with your bra strap.

your eagerness was very apparent, which in no surprise, amused him. “ya’ really that desperate, huh? ya’ don’t wanna talk first, catch up?” you didn’t respond to him at first, your lips leaving his and trailing down his neck, leaving marks and inhaling his scent. the scent you missed so much, the scent you only had reminiscences of in your mind.

“shut up, i need this. you don’t know how long it’s been for me,” you breathe out. he lets out a chuckle and attached his mouth to your neck. unlike you, he took his time. your sighs were loud, you missed this so much. you were afraid if you blinked, he would disappear. he was almost as needy as you, breathing you in.

he palmed your breasts as you grinded your clothed pussy on his jeans, chasing any sorts of pleasure you can muster. you quickened your pace as you grabbed onto his shoulder, your clit starting to tingle. whines spilled out of your mouth, your eyes closed because the tightening feeling inside your stomach was making you sloppy.

the feeling started to tighten, like a a spring, your release was so close, so reachable. but, just before you could let go, rafe stops you with a tight grip to your waist. the feeling you’ve been wanting for years gone, in an instant. you wail out a hopeless cry. “pretty girl, am not gonna let ya’ make a mess on my jeans,” he snickers. “you’re gonna come on my cock, or ya’ not gonna come at all.”

with that, you unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and let out his hard, dripping cock out of his boxers. your eyes went wide with adoration, he was bigger than you remember. “stop looking at me like that, pretty girl, and just put me inside ya’ already.”

following his command, you rise up on your knees and slowly sink into him. the intrusion felt foreign in your cunt, it being that long since you felt any penetration other than your fingers or toys. you let out a ragged breath as he grunts. you took a second to adjust before steadily going up and slamming back into his cock. you start riding him, bouncing on his cock as if your life was on the line. your thighs were burning, your knees stinging on the count of the hard surface beneath you.

both of you couldn’t keep quiet. your high-pitched whines mixed with his heavy breathing. rafe leaned back on his elbows, his eyes trained on the way your breasts heaved up and down as you bounced, bounced, and bounced. he was making you do all the work, which was okay with you. you would do about anything for a release.

you lean back, your hands deathly holding onto his knees behind you. rafe took this opportunity to use his thumb to toy with your already sensitive clit. the added stimulation, combined with his cock hitting your spongy spot so perfectly, you fear you were going to come too early. you wanted to savor this feeling. “uh-uhhh-fuccckkggghhh rafeeee,” your mewls would be heard by the whole island if it weren’t for the roaring bonfire behind you.

finally, the familiar feeling tingled in your belly. “f-fuck, rafe, am gonna comeee,” you warned him.

“come on me, make a mess, pretty girl,” he replies, his voice heavy. his hands reach up and bundled your hair into a ponytail, tugging it.

with his permission, like a coil, you let out the most eye-rolling orgasm. toes curling, your body trembling on top of him, your high was about to end if it weren’t for rafe releasing your hair and gripping your waist, forcing you up and down. your hands immediately grasped his wrist, but he was stronger. he was using your body for his own release. the overstimulation made your eyes roll back, your mouth hung open with your tongue out like a dog. rafe starts to falter in his movements, his breathing stuttering, signaling it was his turn to come. he releases inside you, his seed warming your insides.

you two take a long moment to catch up with your breathing before he grips your neck towards him, “ya not going anywhere this time, pretty girl.”

[ggukgoldensoul]

out of the woods

a/n;; HI EVERYONE!!! im alive and im back with a new fic. i know i havent written ANYTHING in months but sincerely, school projects have been a pain and also i didnt have any idea for any fic, but one of my goals for this year is to write more so, here is a rowaelin fic. give it some love <3 love u guys and sorry for making you wait

WARNINGS; angst to fluff, cage

she has been trapped in a cage inside the woods for 15 years, too many years for a human, a few years for a fae, her hopes of being found are gone. now she is just a memory in the minds of all her closest friends and family… including her mates.

but she didn't forget them.

aelin, with her bright eyes, golden hair like liquid gold and her fierce and wild nature.

rowan, his silver hair like moon tears, his green eyes like precious gems and his calm nature, the opposite of aelin.

she looked at the moon like all the nights since she had been there, trapped in a cage of stone and metal, alone with the company of the moon and stars.

she awoke abruptly by the knock of the door.

“food” the door opened and a trail of food was pushed inside. with the strength left in her legs, she stood from the corner of the cage and with wobbly legs, walked to the trail, sitting on the cold floor, feeling nothing as she sat there, eating the cold food, like always. it had been one of her punishments, no warm food, no warm room, no bed, nothing, only the clothes she was wearing when everything happened. she thought about the last day she talked, she didn’t remember her voice, it was sweet? it was loud? 

she dug her fingers into the plate and touched something colder than the food, something that shouldn't be there but was. her hand grabbed the metal and her breath hitched, her heart stopped and her mind went blank. a key. it was a key. someone had placed it there so she could run from that hell of a place, run to her beloved ones… run to her home. 

she waited until night, when only the breeze could be heard and every animal and fae was asleep. she was shaking from head to toes, but she needed to calm down, she needed to be as silent as possible to not be heard. quietly, she opened the lock of the door and pushed the door slowly, when she was finally out, she swallowed a sob and bit her lip, that was freedom, she was free.

quietly as a feather, she walked through the corridors of the house, up the stairs and through more corridors, but she saw a door at the back of the house, one that led to the forest and went straight to it. when she opened the door and her feet touched the grass, she felt the trees welcomed her, the air was pure, clean, and after 15 years of hell… she was in paradise.

and ran.

ran through the forest, through the night, the trees moving and leading the way to the castle of beauty and magic. 

the sun was climbing his way to the sky when she halted at a hill and looked to the city infront of her. she was home, she made it, tears fell down her face as she hit the floor, her eyes closing and her mind echoed the same word.

home. home. home. home. home.

the large glass doors that lead to the balcony were opened. she could have sworn they were close when they left the room, but there was something strange, something was missing in the room, or rather, something had been added to it. her eyes searched the room, and she found it, her heart beating faster and faster as she looked down to the dress on the bed, a little figure made of sticks and leaves above, a sleeping figure, but she could recognize that face even with her eyes closed.

carefully not to break it, she took the figure and she felt it, the golden string that attached her to the other half of her. alive. she was alive and near them. near home.

she ran to the door and opened it, her voice loud and filled with emotion.

“rowan!! we need to go!! she's alive!!”

warm hands touched her face and body.

then cold hands.

a pair of arms lifted her from the floor, a solid and firm body that protected her.

a soft voice.

“we got you little flame. you’re home”

the room was warmer than she remembered, and the floor was smooth and soft… and her head was resting on pillows, she wasn’t in the cage, it was real, she was home. gently, she opened her eyes adjusting to the sun that entered the room. she knew that ceiling and the paints that decorated it. it was then that she noticed the two bodies near her, on either side, two arms around her waist, gripping it tightly but it was a comfort tight, something she had missed so deeply. 

she felt two pairs of eyes looking at her right side. slowly, she turned her face and met a strong face, with green eyes and silver hair. his eyes were red, dark circles under them, a new bright on those beautiful eyes. rowan lifted a hand to her face, his fingers tracing the lines of her face, her lips, her nose, her cheekbone… aelin was looking at them as she cried silently, all the emotions of the last years broked the wall of her heart. 

she turned her face to look at her mate, a soft smile, one she thought she would never make again. 15 years later, she talked again.

“hi fireheart”

aelin hugged her mate and cried. rowan hugged them both and cried.

she cried between her mates, but this time, they were happy tears.

i’m finally home.

all rights reserved to ©ggukgoldensoul no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

@throneofsapphics @danikamariewrites @shadowdaddies @whisperingmidnights

[yanderestarangel]

⸺ 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 - 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄 x 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

TW: PORN PLOT, NSFW, SMUT, FINGERING, MUTUAL MASTURBATION, DARK THEMES, DIRTY TALK, NUDE EXCHANGE, AFAB ANATOMY, PET NAMES, DEGRADATION, JOHNNY EATS YOUR PUSSY BY PHONE CALL, PHONE SEX, DIRTY PHONE CALL.

You were having a bad, boring day, as you looked out the window, deciding to call your friend, Johnny Cage.

You wait a while, looking out the window at night, until you hear the incoming call tone on the other end of the line.

"-Well Well Well, hello my kitten, my most beautiful boy/girl in the world, how are you kitten tonight? why did you call me? is there a problem?"

Johnny speaks in his usual moody voice, cocky and smiling on the other end of the line, waiting for your answer.

You briefly explain that you had a fight with your boyfriend/girlfriend, as you listened to Johnny smiling and sighing on the other end of the line, the sound of some kind of drink being taken lightly echoed through your senses, as Johnny talked to you, trying to cheer you up with his jokes , or just listening to their vents, you just let it all out from your heart and soul explaining how you felt, while the Hollywood actor gave you some advice, the two of you spent an hour at it, until Johnny started acting a little too sassy, and he wasn't drunk, on the contrary, he was very sober.

"-You know (Y/N), I'm sipping a glass of wine and picturing your beautiful face in my mind, the thought of you lying in your bed, looking at yourself in the mirror, is enough to make me ache with desire, Say my beautiful (Y/N), do you like the idea of me imagining you? Imagining all the naughty things I want to do to you?"

You are curious and confused, as you asked him what kinds of things he was imagining with you.

"-Oh, my curious little kitten, you have no idea just how vividly I imagine the things I want to do to you. I want to make you beg, my pretty boy, beg for my touch, for my cock inside that tight little pussy of yours. I want to bend you over, make you feel my hands gripping your hips as I thrust into you, claiming you as mine. You'd moan and whimper, your voice filled with need, as I fill you up and make you scream my name. And oh, how sweet it would be to see you come apart under my touch."

You then see a notification, seeing a picture of Johnny's pulsing, thick cock, glowing with anticipation and excitement, making your body react and your pussy wet at the sight.

"-Now, why don't you show me how wet you got? Take a picture for me, my kitten, I want to see how much I affected you."

As he talks, you can hear the unmistakable sound of his hand stroking his hard cock on the other end of the line, his voice cracking slightly with pleasure.

You send the nude back, exposing your wet pussy to him, glistening in the dim light, your clit throbbing from Johnny Cage's teasing, the image is received by the older man and Johnny's breath catches when he sees your nude.

"-Damn baby, you know just how to tease me, don't you? That pretty little pussy of yours, so wet and inviting. I can practically taste it from here. Go ahead, kitten, show me how much you want it. Slide those fingers inside you, feel how tight and wet you are for me. I want to hear those sweet moans coming from your lips. Let me see how much you crave my touch."

You obey his order, massaging your clit greedily, using your fingers slowly as you listen to him on the other end of the line, Johnny's voice was mixed with the sound of his dick coming and going on the other side, with moans trapped in his throat, released periodically when he could no longer contain himself.

"-Mmm, yes my sweet thing, I left you wet because I can't resist the thought of you dripping with need. It drives me wild knowing that you're touching yourself, that you're pleasuring that tight little pussy for me. I want you to slip another finger inside, kitten, make yourself nice and stretched, imagine it's my cock filling you up, pounding into you mercilessly... Can you feel it, my pretty boy/girl? Can you feel how much I want you?" - His breath hitches, and his voice becomes rougher, more desperate.

"-Fuck, yes, kitten. I can hear how wet you are. Your moans, the sound of your fingers sliding in and out of that tight little hole...it's making me so hard, so fucking desperate to be with you. I can practically feel your tight walls pulsing around me as I thrust into you, over and over again. God (Y/N), I want to make you come apart, make you scream my name as you cum all over my fingers."

You could feel the wetness of your pussy increase, your cervix extremely hot as you moaned for Johnny to hear, you soon decided to send him a video, showing his effect on you, increasing the heat of the forbidden connection that was happening there, he receives the video of you fingering yourself, becoming even more hard and needy to feel you with him.

"-Fuck, you really are a little slut, aren't you? Teasing me like that, showing me just how eager and wet you are, you learn fast, my pretty boy/girl. It seems you've been paying close attention to your old man here, now, spread your legs wider for me, my little slut. I want to see every inch of that beautiful pussy, watch as you fuck yourself with those fingers. Show me how good you are at pleasuring it, how desperately you want to make yourself cum for me." - Johnny says, laughing and groaning, biting his bottom lip to himself, filling the call, a deep, satisfied sound that sends shivers down your spine.

"-Oh, my sweet little slut, you're doing such a good job pleasuring yourself for me. I love seeing how desperate and needy you are. But don't worry, kitten, I won't let you have all the fun. I have a little something for you too." -As he speaks, you receive a notification and open the video that Johnny sent. The screen displays a provocative close-up of his hard, throbbing cock. The girthy member is adorned with prominent veins, pulsating with desire. The video shows Johnny gripping his shaft firmly, stroking himself with a mixture of urgency and controlled rhythm. His hand moves up and down, his thumb occasionally swiping over the sensitive head.

"-Does it excite you, my pretty kitten? Watching me stroke myself in response to your little pussy, imagine it's your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, how good it would feel as I thrust into you without mercy.... ah~ f-fuck, I want you to imagine every inch of me inside you, claiming you as mine."

You soon saw the notifications, Johnny sent more videos, In the videos he sent, Johnny's cock is throbbing and leaking with pre-cum, a clear sign of his arousal. Each video showcases his powerful thrusts and the enticing sight of him gripping himself tightly. His abs glisten with sweat as he clenches his muscles, leaving no doubt about his stamina and desire.

The images of your arousal on his phone screen only fuel his desire further, causing his own hand to quicken its pace on his hard cock, Johnny's voice becomes rougher, his breath labored as he listens to your moans and watches the explicit videos of your wet, needy pussy.

"-F-Fuck, you're such a good little slut, look at you honey, taking those fingers so eagerly, just like I knew you would. I can't wait to feel that tight little mouth of yours wrapped around my cock, sucking me like your life depends on it. I want to see you swallow every last drop of my cum, feel you gag and moan on my throbbing cock."

"-I can't hold back anymore (Y/N). I need to be inside you. I want to fuck you, You'll be begging for mercy, begging for release, and I'll give it to you, but only when I'm damn well satisfied... Get ready for me, my little fuck toy? I'm coming for you."

You feel your orgasm coming, your pussy squeezed the only finger you managed to stick inside your wet and hot hole, with that you let out a sweet and exciting moan.

"-Fuck, that's it, my little slut. Cum for me, scream my name as you release all that pent-up need. You're so fucking beautiful when you're lost in pleasure, my little kitten." -Johnny lose control, he realizes your orgasm, making him cum and be satisfied.

After a few moments, he sends you a video of his own orgasm. The screen reveals his throbbing cock, slick with his release. As he strokes himself to completion, his member pulsates and glistens with his warm, sticky cum. In the video, you catch a glimpse of his face, slightly worn from the intensity of his pleasure, his sunglasses slightly askew, revealing the desire and exhaustion in his eyes.

"-Well... I guess we can continue, but personally in my mansion, break up with your boyfriend/girlfriend now (Y/N), you're mine kitten." -Johnny spoke in a dark voice, hanging up abruptly, with no room for discussion, it was strange to hear him so serious, but you had no other choice, you were his now and it wasn't a bad thing.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Heel, Stay, and Shake.

🐦‍⬛ What’s this? A wild bird in our classroom? Now we can’t have that, can we? 🧪

By My Hand.

Raven didn’t know what to expect when Professor Crewel asked to see him after class. A summons from him typically meant one of two things: a thorough scolding or remedial work. Sometimes both.

She wasn’t the type for either. Raven kept her head down and behaved—and thus stood off to the side of his wrath. And now here she was, standing in the line of fire.

“Wooow, sucks to be you,” Ace had sneered on his way out. “The goody-two-shoes finally gets into trouble herself!”

“Leave her alone, Ace,” Deuce grumbled, “You don’t want to make things worse for her than they already are.”

Even the Prefect, Yuu—level-headed, neutral—had passed her a look of sympathy. But they cleared out of the laboratory the same as the rest, leaving Raven to her doom.

The heavy wooden door slammed shut, trapping her in with their teacher.

Crewel had traded his lab coat and safety goggles for his usual attire: a black and white color-blocked vest, black undershirt and slacks, smart shoes that clicked with every step, blood red gloves, socks, and tie. Over this, a striped fur coat with several tails, the insides a shocking scarlet.

He ran a hand through his hair—black slicked back, white in a graceful sweep of parted bangs. His eyes, a shade of iced onyx, dug into her like the teeth of a dog. Not enough to pierce the skin, but enough to threaten to.

She struggled not to tremble under his gaze. Raven knew it to be discerning and, more importantly, unrelenting in its critique.

“Crowley.”

“Y-Yes!!” Raven yelped, standing at attention. Her posture naturally corrected itself at his voice. Back stiffening, head lifting. “Wh-Whatever it is I’ve said or done to offend you, I apologize! I will reflect on my actions and do better in the future!”

“Offend me?” Crewel’s surprise melted into a devilish smirk. “You’ve done nothing of the sort. However, I’m flattered that you would think yourself in such dire need of my private instruction.”

“Eh? Then what did you need me for…?”

“A curiosity of mine. I hope you do not mind.”

“N-No, sir! Curiosity not minded!”

A chuckle.

Crewel extended his pointer to a line of shelves. “I’ve heard from the headmaster that you care for colorants. Is that correct?”

Raven was all too eager to provide the answer and then book it out of there. “That’s right. I brew some in my spare time. They’re enchanted inks, meant for writing and journaling.”

“Inks? What, may I ask, makes them ‘enchanted’?”

“Well…” Raven gestured to a potted mandrake. “It’s like cultivation. I infuse magic into the ink, which grants them fun properties. Smelling like an orange slice, glowing even long after you’ve penned it, words that produce the sounds they write out.”

“I see.” Interest had started to seep into Crewel’s voice. “Have you ever thought to extend this skill to other areas of application?”

“No, not really. It’s just something I got into to save on pocket money. Commercial inks can be expensive, so I thought to make my own with the ingredients gathered from around campus…”

Raven trailed off.

A glint had settled into Crewel’s eyes. The very same shine that came into Crowley’s at the mention of money or fresh game.

“It seems to me,” Crewel said slowly, “that you have a talent.”

A stone dropped into her stomach.

Uh-oh, here comes trouble.

“I would very much like to train that talent.” He tapped his pointer into an open palm. Each strike light, but had all the gravity of a gravel.

“Huh?!”

“You’re familiar with Night Raven College’s charity ball?”

“Yes…”

She couldn’t forget it even if she tried. The headmaster had droned about it for the last several weeks, declaring it a “prime time” to look good to the public. (Half of those weeks had been spent preening and wondering which suit and tie to wear.)

“School staff are to be in attendance to oversee the event. This year, we’re donating the proceeds to an animal shelter on Sage’s Island—a cause I’m particularly passionate about. As such, I would like to wear something stunning—and to dazzle at a show, you must have the element of surprise. I will be designing my own outfit. That is where you will come in.

“I will provide the materials, and you will prepare the dye for it. I want a unique color and magical effect that suits my image and enhances it.”

“But I don’t know the first thing about fabrics or treating them,” Raven protested faintly.

“Which is why I will mentor you. It will be a collaborative effort.”

“I-I’m sure you’re entirely capable of accomplishing this on your own, Professor! After all, Crewel-sensei is so very skilled…”

“Tch.” He frowned, making his displeasure clear. “You are missing the point, pup. Do you really think I wouldn’t have already done so, were that my intention?”

Raven flinched. “I don’t know, sir.”

“Night Raven College is making efforts to promote teamwork in its curriculum and extracurricular activities. For such a front-facing event, our new direction will be center stage. You’re a clever girl. I’m certain I do not need to explain the importance of this.”

“Surely there are more ideal candidates, sir… Students far more qualified than me. V-Vil-senpai? Or a Science Club member? Rook-senpai might be interested.”

“Of course I am aware of that—but this isn't about them. This is about you."

His pointer sliced through the air, so sharp that it cracked like a whip, aiming itself right at her. Crewel's face was the picture of arrogance, a high and mighty king looking down at the peasants. (Raven suddenly understood why he, of all teachers, was a Night Raven College graduate.)

"Since the day you scampered into my classroom, you've been nothing but a meek little thing. Obedience is all well and good, but you lack a bark and a bite, the confidence to be bold and to demonstrate your ability with pride. Schoenheit and the others already have that.

“You must learn how to speak up, pup! And this Crewel-sama will be the one to teach that to you.”

“B—But…”

“No buts!” he snapped. “If you’re going to reject the idea, then do so with your entire chest! I will accept it as proof of your bite. If you cannot muster that, then you will submit yourself to my guidance. What will it be?”

Raven shrunk back—proving his point. Speak up? Louder, more sternly—against her own teacher? She couldn’t.

Yikes, he’s so fired up about this… There’s no way I can comfortably say ‘no’!

She balled her fists up, terribly twisting her skirt. Raven sighed deeply, resigning herself to her fate.

“… Alright, I will do my best to assist, Crewel-sensei. In return, I will be relying on you too.”

“Good girl. You’ve made your choice.” Crewel offered a hand. “Then let us shake on it.”

She hesitantly took it. His grip was firm and resolute, hers limp and unenthusiastic.

At last, he smiled in satisfaction. “I look forward to instructing you, Crowley. I expect you to keep up.”

Never in her life had she felt more like some poor dog strung along on a leash.

[animehideout]

LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

PART 10

Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader

check out part 11 here ✨🆕

W.c: 3.4K+

not proofread ⚠️

a/n : Hi everyone, I'm back with another part yaaay, I hope you enjoy it. I need a good cry so I wrote this, where are my Angst enthusiasts at? this part is for you, but no worries I'll make it up for you I promise 😭🩵.

Music Suggestion 🎧 I highly recommend The Neighborhood - Softcore to match the sadness 🥲

You gradually regained your consciousness; you felt a dull throb in your head. You blinked slowly, struggling to focus, your surroundings initially a blur of shapes and colors that gradually sharpened into clarity.

You tried to move, to rub your temples but your heart beats quickened when you realized you were bound to a chair, your limbs securely tied with coarse ropes. Panic surged through your veins, your eyes widening as you struggled against your restrains, each tug to break free was met with resistance. Ropes tightly wrapped around your wrists and legs, a burning sensation, only serving to deepen your sense of helplessness.

“Fuck, fuck” you muttered.

Breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling in wild rhythm. You scanned the dimly lit room, searching for any sign of escape. But there was none, and you found yourself trapped in a nightmare worse than your reality.

Suddenly, a deep voice cut through the silence, coming from behind. A tone that sent shivers down your spine,

“No need to struggle princess”

The words dripped with menace. You were too scared to look behind not knowing what to face. You bit your lips that were quivering. From the shadow, he emerged. With hesitation you looked up to see the tall figure that concealed the dim light from you. His muscles taut beneath his shirt, a sly, dirty smirk tugged at the corners of his scarred lips. His dark black hair fell on his face gracefully, looking directly at your soul with his narrowed eyes. for a split second, you thought it was a more aggressive version of Megumi.

His presence, the way he stood in front of you, looking down at you sent a chill to your whole nervous system, making your breath hitch up.

“W-who are you? What am I doing here?”

He reached to grab your chin with his long fingers, forcing your head up to look at him.

“Shh-hh, don’t ask questions! Lemme introduce myself first” he paused, bringing another chair and sat right in front of you. “I’m sure you’ve heard about me…they probably warned you, I’m-”

“You’re Toji Zenin?!” you interrupted him

With a mocking tone, he leaned forward and said,

“I go by Fushiguro now! So don’t say Zenin ever again…so? Did you sleep well”

You stayed frozen in place, each inhale felt like shards of glass scraping down your throat. Consumed by fear, realizing that the man who’s been searching for you all around Tokyo, just to take your life away finally found you and was comfortably sitting in front of you. Your world narrowed, maybe it’s the end.

*flash back*

With a heavy weight in your heart, you left Jujutsu High in the dread of the night. Spending the night stargazing in the balcony wasn’t enough; you wanted to get completely detached so you left for some fresh air away, far away from Gojo.  The echo of what Gojo said to you still ringing in your ears. “you failed your family and now you’re failing everyone else in Jujutsu High” those words never left your mind.

“He’s right..I even failed myself” you muttered to yourself.

You walked through the streets, each step was a painful reminder that you’ve got nowhere to go, completely lost, nowhere and no one to turn to, feeling that you don’t belong anywhere. The darkness of the night enveloped you like a cloak. Your feet carried you to an unexpected place, standing in front of the big wooden door, you didn’t dare to knock, you just stood there in front of your parent’s house, memories flooding your mind. Maybe your parents were right for keeping you locked inside. Maybe someone like you was never meant to leave the safety of their house, maybe your parents knew that you would get hurt. But your family, who spent their life keeping you in the darkness of your room pushed you to marry a stranger, a man you never knew, never met; Gojo Satoru, just because of his good reputation, because he’s the strongest, maybe your parents thought he would keep you safe and will protect you, but he ended up slit opening a deep wound within you, once again awakening your trauma that you worked hard to learn how to live with.

“I was only a burden to everyone” you said to yourself,

You heard giggles so you stepped closer, peeking through the window. Your heart sank as you saw your family again, after so long. You didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad at their sight. Your parents and siblings, gathered together in the warm glow of the light. Carefree and content, laugher filling the air, a bittersweet melody to your ears. Their faces illuminated by smiles as they talked together.

You stood there, a silent observer on the outside looking in. A tear rolled down your cheek , a broken smile drawn on your face,

“They look happy without me”

You felt a sting in your chest,  loneliness washing over you again and again, it actually never left, loneliness was the only companion you had. It was as if you were peering into a world you had once knew, yet now felt completely disconnected.

History repeating itself, once again your family managed to make you feel like an outsider, a complete stranger. You felt as if you were a completely forgotten fragment of their life, a faded memory lost in the depth of time, as if you never been a part of their past.

Tears welled in your eyes as you turned away from the window, unable to bear the ache of being invisible to them your whole life. As you turned, you were met with a pair of glowing eyes looking directly at you, a tall masked figure that made you gasp , but before you could react, you got hit on your head with a metal bar…falling unconscious.

*End of flashback*

“Was that your parents house?” asked Toji

But you completely ignored his question, looking away from his intense gaze,

“What do you want from me?”

“Kill you, obviously… now answer my question..Was that your parents’ house?”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“As you can see, I feed on other’s suffering .. so it would be nice to learn more about your miserable past”

You frowned your brows in confusion,

“I had a normal, not miserable past" you lied, keeping your traumas to yourself,

“Oh hoho, let me guess, abused? Discriminated? No no ignored? That’s the right word… no one ever recognized you right? No one made you feel welcomed cuz you were different and people are scared of things that are different” he started

How did he know that? How did he know about your past? How could he describe what you've felt so accurately?

“N-no!” you lied again

“Come on don’t lie to me.. I know very well the face of someone who’s been discriminated their entire life for being  different”

“Have you met someone like that to judge so confidently?”

“No, but I look in the mirror everyday”

You looked at him in disbelief, you didn’t dare to say a word. Whatever he was trying to do, was successfully making you feel uncomfortable. Is he trying to torture you before taking your last breath away? But you already gave up, there’s no way you can escape this place, tied hands and legs, him sitting right across you., and probably no one would look for you.

“If you’re gonna kill me then do it already, and spare me from talking about the past”

“Woah, so you give up already? Who pushed you to your limits to the point that you greet death as an old friend?” he asked

“No one, just do it. This is what you captured me for.. SO DO IT” you yelled.

“Hm, interesting! I think I know where all of this is coming from..Gojo Satoru? Did your husband add to your trauma?”

“enough” you whispered weakly

“What? It must be hard to live with him; especially that he’s the strongest. Lemme guess! He made you feel weak at any given chance, reminding you again and again that you’re nothing” he said offensively pushing you to your edge.

“St-op”

“That’s what sorcerers do, they claim they protect the normal, oh I’m sorry the monkeys like us, but in reality they use their power to belittle us…and you’ll soon be like them, soon you’ll turn into your real form; a sorcerer with an immaculate power but ugly usage..and this is my chance to spare the world of the normal from your ugliness”

“What are you talking about? I’m no turning into a sorcerer-”

“What?”

“It’s been weeks and nothing happened, that prophecy they talked about was nothing but a big lie”

“But your curse-”

“Fate is my only curse” you said, your eyes blankly staring at him, completely worn out.

*Back at Jujutsu High*

Satoru’s eyes blazed with fury as he walked towards Mei Mei and grabbed her by the arm, his grip tight and violent. He yanked her aside aggressively,

“You! You’re the reason she’s gone” he spat with anger.

Mei Mei’s face etched with annoyance, narrowing her eyes at him,

“Don’t you dare blame me for this! It’s  your fault Gojo not mine” she fought back.

“You did that on purpose didn’t you? Leading me to your room cuz you know Y/n will be there, you’re trying your best to have me, but you can’t and you never will” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“You started this in the first place. You asked for my help to push Y/n away, and when I succeeded in giving you what you wanted, you started blaming me? Is this your way to say thank you?”

“I already told you to stop, I said that I no longer in need of your help that you got paid for, but you kept pushing, you wanted more than pushing Y/n away, you wanted me to be yours, but too bad for you, I don’t want you Mei Mei _ and if something happens to y/n I’ll end you! Do you understand ?” he threatened and turned his back to leave.

“Do you love her?” asked Mei Mei making Gojo stop in his track. “There’s only explanation for this, you fell for her Gojo: you fell for Y/n!”

A moment of silence washed over the place, making a hundred of thoughts flow in Gojo’s head. But he ignored her; he doesn’t have time to think about his feelings, when the one he has feelings for is missing because of him. So he started walking away to join the others and start their mission to find you.

…..

“We’ll split into three groups and cover as much ground as possible” suggested Gojo and all of them nodded in agreement.

“Megumi and Maki come with me” he added

“I’ll take Yuji-kun  and Panda” said Nanami

“Inumaki and Nobara you’ll go with principal Yaga” ordered Satoru

“What about Mei Mei, where is she? Isn’t she coming with us to look for Y/n-sensei?” asked Maki with suspicion, she never liked her anyway.

“I’ll go with you” said Mei Mei as she joined them in the common room, “Let’s find y/n”

Satoru ignored her presence and left the room, the rest of them walked outside. Spreading across Tokyo streets, searching everywhere for a glimpse of you. Ready for any possible encounter with Toji Zenin.

Satoru walked with powerful step, determined to find Toji’s hideout and save you from his deadly grasp.

“We’ll find her..don’t worry Y/n is strong, she can definitely handle it” said Megumi in a comforting tone, after noticing how stressed Satoru was.

“I know… she’s strong” he finally admitted.

Hours stretched on into the night, Gojo and the other sorcerers students and teachers combed through each and every corner of the city.. every alleyway, every secluded spot that Toji could possibly use desperate to find her, but for nothing.

Despite their exhaustive efforts, the outcome remained unchanged; you’re nowhere to be found.

With heavy hearts and weary bodies they got back to Jujutsu High as principal Yaga called off the search.

*2 days later*

“The higher ups called for an urgent meeting” said Principal Yaga

“We’ll join the meeting!” said Yuji

“No it’s only for the teachers”

“NO! we care for Y/n-sensei, and maybe more than all of you! If this is about Y/n-sensei then we’re joining” said Yuji with a sad tone

With a sigh, principal Yaga nodded, guiding all of them to the meeting room.

*At the meeting room*

Tension hung in the air, faces drawn and expressions grim as they waited for one of the higher ups to speak,

“Any clue? Any hint? Any progress?” asked one of them.

All of them shook their heads in defeat, their silence spoke volumes, conveying their helplessness and the frustration of their failure.

“We expected nothing less from Toji Zenin, it’s already crystal clear-” he added coldly, his words cutting through the silence once again.

“We won’t give up! We’ll go back tomorrow and this time we bring her home and bring Toji to his trial again” said Gojo in fraustartion, his words dripping with venom.

“You’ve been looking for two days but for vain, there’s no point in wasting any more time and effort, once she’s captured by Toji we knew she’s already gone, she’s already dead” said one of the higher ups.

“SHE’S NOT DEAD” yelled Satoru slamming his fist on the wooden table,

all heads turned at his direction at his sudden rage.

“I know it’s hard to swallow, but it’s your fault for letting her wander outside without keeping an eye on her, it’s your fa-”

“YOU THINK IM NOT AWARE OF IT? YES YOU’RE RIGHT IT’S MY FUCKING FAULT FOR LETTING HER GO, IT’S MY FAULT FOR PUSHING HER AWAY FROM ME, IT’S MY DAMN FAULT MY HURTING HER SO MUCH TO THE POINT THAT SHE FAVORED FACING DANGER OUTSIDE THEN STAYING BESIDE ME…stop blaming me because I know, I messed up, I fucked up and I admit it…but you can’t ask me to give up on my wife-” said Gojo his voice cracking.

Without further words, he left the room. Nanami followed him trying to help him,

“Gojo stop…hey stop” said Nanami “Where are you going?”

“To find her”

“Gojo you know you won’t find her…” said Nanami apologetically

“You once told me to treat her as a real wife, so here I am doing , let me for once care for her like a real wife”

“Gojo don’t do this to yourself, I know you still have hope, we all do but the higher ups won’t allow it”

“Well fuck them the higher ups..I won’t rest till I bring my wife home”

“Alright I’ll come with you”

*At Toji Zenin’s hideout*

“Wakey wakey…” said Toji splashing cold water on your head

You gasped for air, completely startled, completely drenched

“W-what the hell!!” you exclaimed

“Someone wants to meet you”

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you glanced towards the door in anticipation. Who could possibly come to meet you? Is there someone else in the dirty game that Toji is playing?

Your heart skipped a beat as the door creaked open, revealing a familiar silhouette that slowly emerged from the shadow to the light.

“M-Mei Mei?” you said in shock

Your mind raced trying to make sense of the whole situation, your eyes didn’t leave hers as she looked down at you. But the smirk on Mei Mei’s face offered no answer,

“I hope you had fun these two days here with Toji”  

“W-what?” your voice almost inaudible.

“Did you think I’d let you win huh? Poor Y/n!”

“You!- you did all of this? What’s your problem with me huh?” you asked your voice trembling with anger.

“The thing is, you are the problem Y/n! I won’t let you have Gojo, I won’t let you turn into a sorcerer and become the strongest..I won’t let that prophecy come true”

“You’re insane!” you shook your head in disbelief

“Well call it whatever you like, but I won’t let you steal my dreams away”

“So you think that stealing my life away is the right thing to do?”

“YES YES” she leaned forward “I can’t bear to see Gojo look at you with much love in his eyes, I can’t bear to see him giving his heart to you-”

“What are you blabbering about? You know well what kind of relationship I have with Gojo, I already know that both of you have an affair”

Suddenly she started laughing hysterically,

“That’s what I wanted but that dick didn’t want me and never did, since you’re going to die so yeah lemme tell you truth, I got paid to do what I’ve done, he never touched me…it was all lie, all of them, I made that up to push you out of the frame, he wanted that at first but then he started to push ME out of the frame, maybe he’s got a liking into you, a liking that I didn’t like, when I noticed the way his heart started to beat for you, when a spark was born I had to intervene, I couldn’t help but release Toji out of prison, pay him a big amount of money  to abduct you and kill you”

“I’ve never thought you’ll get to this level of low” you spat

“Now you’re out of the frame, I succeeded, you’ll die.. Toji will kill you and I’ll work on making Gojo forget about you, I’ll comfort him when he mourns your death, I’ll be the shoulder he cries on and that’s how I’ll win his heart…to the higher ups you’re already considered dead and shortly you’ll truly be” she said happily, playing with her hair

Disbelief washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you disoriented. You struggled to voice your thoughts, lost in the overwhelming emotions so you started screaming at her,

“I’LL KILL YOU MEI MEI, I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU”

You struggled to break free from the ties that restricted your movement to a minimum, completely going crazy, you hair falling on your face. With each tug and desperate lurch you felt your anger growing more and more, your heart hammering against your chest, redoubling your efforts, till you crashed on the ground, the chair toppled over with a resounding thud, hitting your head on the hard concrete. You laid there, disoriented and dazed, pain pulsed through your skull, world spinning around you. If you managed to break free you’ll make Mei Mei vanish from existence.

You saw in slow mo how Mei Mei was walking towards the door leaving the room, Toji crouched down, brushing strands of hair off your face, placing it behind your ear,

“It’s okay, it won’t be painful…but before I kill you, I’ll do terrible thing to you that will make you beg me to kill you”

You were too weak to answer him, you can feel yourself fading into the background, into the nothingness…losing touch  with what’s real. As you closed your eyes, seeking solace in the silence. His face emerged, Gojo’s features etched in your mind with crystalline clarity. Amidst the chaos, the threat, you were somehow happy and relieved that he did not cheat on you, that hadn’t touched Mei Mei  and that all what she said before was a lie to offend you that’s all. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, with each passing moment, your thoughts dived deeper and deeper in the memories shared between both of you, the closeness of your faces when both of you bickered, the way he was sleeping  next you but disturbed by his night terrors, you wished that you be there for him, comfort him and put him back to sleep in your arms, maybe you’ll be his dream and replace that ugly nightmare that haunts him every night. Maybe you can try again and be a real husband and wife.

You realized in that moment that you needed him, that you have already fell for him but that feeling needed something to be noticed, and this something is being far away from him. But is there a way back? A tear run on your cheek, a weak smile drawn on your tired face, fate is indeed your curse.

“It’s too late…I’m already gone”

With that you closed your eyes, drifting to sleep, your dream filled with visions of Gojo is your only companion.  

….

“Are you sure about this Maki?” asked Nobara

“I don’t know, but she’s been acting really suspicious, maybe we can find something?”

“You sure we won’t get caught?”

“No…but I’ll do it, if you’re not sure about this you can go I’ll handle it alone!”

“No I’ll be here, I’ll guard the place”

Both of them walked through the dark corridor like ghosts, gently turning the door knob, sneaking into Mei Mei’s room.

Taglist ✨:

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@thoughfullovercreator

[t-the-ring-master]

This will be made as a male reader mostly because I feel like there isn’t enough with female characters and I just want dad character to Brightbill. However, feel free to imagine it as however you like, they are robots so not much happening in that area, so do what you like. And please make sure to salt your purple next time, gives it flavor.

If anyone wishes to be tagged in any future The wild robot posts or anything else, please comment, ask through ask box or just message me!

Imma try and ask C if she can draw T as a Rozzum one of these days. I also wrote this over like an hour. My face hurts so not as long as I wanted it to be but oh well. Hope you enjoy!

I also just added the last part for fun. Also if someone wants to request a continuation of this.

TW: none? No use of Y/N, I use (Name). Mentions of mates and partners I guess? Everyone ships you with Roz I guess.

Request: circus anon

Requests: open

Taglist: @cs-cabin-and-crew @the-lavender-clown

❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦

Roz x Robot!reader

You had crash landed in the woods. Your metal package and your transmitter to contact your built site had been damaged as well.

So you decided to try and find the person whom had ordered you.

Yeah that didn’t go well.

You had been kicked, attacked, chased and more within just the span of 6 hours before giving up and sitting in learning mode to fix the language barrier you’ve found yourself trapped in.

Due to being in learning mode, you hadn’t been paying enough attention to your surroundings, causing you not to notice the Rozzum unit analyzing you.

Fink: what is it Roz?

Roz: it seems to be a Rozzum unit, but I cannot tell the number nor model.

Yeah you scared them when you came out of your learning mode.

(Name): hello! I am the new and improved (Name) Unit: 0001. I am a one of a kind prototype! Here for any needs or demands!

Fink: I’m getting flashbacks.

Roz lead you to her, Bightbill and Finks home. She hadn’t ever seen your model before, so she excitedly asked you questions.

Roz: I’ve never seen your make or model. What are you designed for?

(Name): I am designed for many things. Cooking, shopping, manual labor, heavy lifting, childcare-

Roz: child care?

(Name): indeed, is this something that interests-

Roz: I have a kid.

(Name):…. Alright.

She proceeded to bombard you with questions on what your childcare program provided, which as per your programming, complied.

When you arrived to the home of the Rozzum, she led you inside and began showing you baby pictures of her “kid”

(Name): this is your child?

Roz: yes, he is called Brightbill.

(Name):…. He has your eyes.

You ended up staying with Roz, Fink, and eventually Brightbill when we returned for the spring.

It took a lot of getting used to the fact that you could no longer follow protocol here. But at least some of your programming helped you and the others a bit.

Such as you being more stronger than the Rozzum, as well as having better and hardier equipment than the other models. Fink definitely appreciated your heating mode (which is often used in your caregiver function to help a baby fall asleep) during the harsh winter…. And so did many of the other animals.

Pink tail likes you, since you watch her kids when she needs a break.

Pink tail: you found a good mate Roz. Possums aren’t so lucky when it comes to that.

Roz: what do you mean?

Pink tail: some of us don’t have life mates. (Name) seems to be a pretty good parent though.

Roz: Mate?

Que Roz studying “mate’ and “partner” which rabbit holed her down into “Spouse” and so on.

Fink ships it.

Brightbill ships it.

Pink tail…. You guessed it. Ships it.

Que all the animals trying to keep you two together.

Pink tail: Hey, Roz. (Name) is looking for you!

Fink: hey (Name) I think Roz wants to ask you more questions about your programs. I think she’s at the beach.

Brightbill: hey mom, (Name) wanted me to tell you he’s at the beach.

And so on.

Yeah you both confused by it all.

Eventually you two do end up spending some time together. Actually it was where Roz first met Pink Tail. You were busy analyzing some of the plants around you (as per your programming to search plants in case they have useful properties or are dangerous) while Roz sat there observing.

You two had a good time…. Ignoring the fact that a certain Fox and goose were stalking the two of you.

A couple weeks later, Brightbill let it slip and called you dad. You didn’t mind.

At this point you’ve become just as much as a wild robot as Roz has. And we’re very useful to your new family as you were able to repair minor things for yourself and Roz, which made it easier during winter.

You now also have your own picture with the rest of the family.

The other animals like you, you just kinda have a reputation of being more aloof and less soft compared to Roz.

Unless it’s the young… you are shockingly good with young. (As if you weren’t programmed to take care of them-)

The next winter, you had found an egg and brought it home.

Roz: here we go again.

Brightbill:…. Well I was upset at not having siblings-

[l0k10fasg4rd]

true king

Pairing TTDW loki x afab!pregnant reader!

MIDI!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED AND WILL BE BLOCKED!!!

warnings!: smut!-mentions of death and mourning over a passed loved one (not Loki btw but his "death" is mentioned)

i haven't properly spell or grammar checked as i wrote this though the whole night and am currently fighting my sleep demon XD.

i hope you enjoy the story! gif not mine :3

As y/n hurried down the halls to the dungeon where Odin banished your husband Loki you quietly avoided the guards and approached Loki’s cell, you stared at your husband for a moment observing him as he stares blankly up at the ceiling, his face lacked emotion as he tossing a cup in the air and catching it repeatedly. 

“Loki” y/n whispered awaiting a response from the prince. Loki stopped tossing the cup and after a long awkward silence his eyes turned towards the familiar voice who stood just outside his cell. “What is  it” He said bleakly.  y/n took a deep breath to prepare for the unfortunate news she was about to tell her husband “I have bad news.. It's about your mother Loki.” He immediately sat upright, a bit of colour returned to his pale face. “What about her? My mother is fine…”  He said quietly, as y/n said with an uncertain face, hesitant to tell him. 

His breathing began to speed up as his heartbeat began to race. The worst news had come true. “W-what happened?” He asked with a shaky voice full of panic. y/n entered the cell with her magic and embraced “she was murdered by the dark elf Malekith.. I'm so sorry Loki. Odin is going to hold a ceremony tonight, I tried talking him into bringing you but he refused my request”. 

He leaned into your embrace, his cold body beginning to shake. He wanted to say something but the words became trapped in his throat, he had to compose himself, he had to be strong and yet he couldn’t help but bury his face in the crook of your neck. “M-my mother… is dead?” He managed to say, his voice shaking. “Why?”

y/n was hesitant on repeating what thor told her, wanting no more than it to be untrue “Thor said you lead one of malekith's guards to her, they found her and she sacrificed her life for jane to protect her.” y/n said choking on her own sobs. 

Loki immediately pulled away from y/n, anger starting to boil inside of him. He ripped himself away away from y/n’s embrace, pacing back and forth across the cell, trying to keep his temper under control. His eyes were wild, he looked almost possessed. “That’s impossible! I would never endanger my mother! That’s a lie, I only wanted to lead them to thor!” He growled, his chest rising up and down in anger and panic. 

“I believe you, and understand your pain. I too am mourning your mother” I embrace loki again this time more gentle and assuring, He let out a deep exhale as you embraced him again, it felt nice to be comforted in that moment. y/n whispered to loki " I need to get you out of here, we should run away.” But as the anger began to subside and he thought about your suggestion he pulled away once again, this time looking at you like you had lost your mind. “Run away? Are you mad?” loki looked in y/n in her eyes “Odin has sentenced you in jail for LIFE? Do you want to sit and rot here for the rest of your life?? Loki I need you, I can live without you, you are everything to me, I need to get you out of here you don't deserve the sentence your father gave you.” y/n whispered to loki “I wanted to start a family with you loki, the day our wedding was arranged I knew I wanted to live the rest of my life with you till the very day I die, I was willing to sacrifice everything for you my love.” 

Loki stood there in momentary silence, he took in what you were saying, and it was true. The thought of rotting away in a cell for the rest of his days did not appeal to him. He thought of the life he could have. The life he promised to you. And yet he could not help the uncertainty that plagued his mind. “But… my father will come after us.” He spoke quietly looking deeply in y/n eyes. “Not if we plan to usurp him?” I look up and grin at Loki “I've got a plan” I smile  “while I was banished to Midgard there were these homes for old people where he can stay, if you trick Odin to going down to Midgard and staying there you shapeshift and can take his place AS Odin, no one will know, not even Thor" I lightly smile and raise my eyebrows at Loki. 

loki was quiet for a moment, thinking over your idea and the grin on your face. He couldn’t believe you were even suggesting such a thing. The idea of him taking his fathers place was insane, and yet it intrigued him.

“That is…. One of the most ridiculous plans I have ever heard.” He couldn’t help but admit, “in all honesty, it was a very risky plan, but it could work if they play their cards right.” he grinned at y/n. 

*time skip after Loki fakes his death to save Thor and takes the throne as 'Odin'*

As Loki sits on the throne, dressed in the clothes of Odin, he still couldn’t believe the insane plan had worked. Sitting in the throne room all alone with only the sounds of the large empty room, he couldn’t help the thoughts of doubt that plagued his mind. What if someone discovered the truth? What was his next move? He had so many questions that ran through his mind and yet one question came to the forefront of his mind

‘When will I see her again?’ 

I walk down the massive hallway to the throne as I see 'odin', he couldn’t help but allow a small smile to creep on his face as y/n made her way down the hall, as she came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs she spoke greatly “the furious 3 and i have had another successful mission in Svartalfheim, but i come to inform you all-father that i am retiring my role as a warrior..  " ‘odin’ gave y/n a questionable face, y/n turned to look at the guards. “I would like to talk to odin alone.” The guards looked at each other and turned to walk out of the throne room “you are doing a wonderful job as king my love, I'm so proud of you” y/n said with a huge grin on her face “but i'm here to come to tell you some wonderful news loki.” 

“Oh? And what would this news be?” I would like to see my husband for this matter not odin "i giggle, as I awaited loki to shift back to his normal form" I am with child loki. your child” A look of shock washes over loki as he heard you say you were with child. He couldn’t believe it, a child. The idea of being a father frightened him, but it also filled him with so much joy.

“Y-you’re carrying my child?” He asks, a mix of excitement and slight fear in his voice. 

Loki stood up from the throne, almost stumbling as he tried to make his way down the steps towards you. “Oh, my darling…” He said quietly, smiling, he walked up to you, gently taking your hand into his. “Are you sure? How long have you known?” Loki questioned  “This morning, I went to the nurses to get checked and they told me the good news. They are also worried though, they are uncertain who the father is and think I'm going to care for this child alone, y/n concerned about what people would think if they found out that you are carrying the late prince's child. 

Loki smile fades as you tell him what the nurses said to you. A look of anger appears on his face at the thought of you being shunned and forced to raise the child on your own

“They said that? How dare they… As if I would ever leave you alone in this.” He placed a gentle hand under your chin, lifting your head to look up at him.

“You will never be alone with this child, darling.” A tear fell down y/n face, loki gently brings a hand up to your face, gently wiping away the tear that fell. He smiles lightly and places a kiss on your forehead  “I love you so much loki, please meet me in my quarters tonight I have a surprise to give you” y/n said and kissed loki goodbye. “And I love you too, my darling. I will come to your quarters this evening. I can’t wait to see what you have for me.” 

*time skip to me waiting in my chambers bathing waiting for loki to finish his 'odin' duties*

Finally, after an exhausting evening of playing as ‘Odin’ Loki was able to excuse himself to retire for the evening. The long robes of the all-father still weighed heavily on his body, and all he wanted to do now was shed them and lay in bed with you. He quietly made his way through the halls, eventually reaching your chambers. 

y/n laid in her bath not noticing loki entering their chambers, I rubbed my belly not even a bump yet as I lay and thought about what to name the child, lost in her own thoughts she hadn't noticed loki watching her.  As Loki quietly opened the bathroom door without you knowing, a smile curled onto his face as he quietly watched y/n from the doorframe. He took a moment to simply observe you, the way you rubbed your stomach lovingly, a sweet, almost motherly look on your face as your head leaned back against the tub.

y/n thought out loud looking out the massive window looking out into the starry night “how did you do it frigga.. you were such a good mother to thor and loki and they turned out to be the most finest men in their own way, I'm worried I won't be as a good as you in a motherly role, I miss you so much frigga I know you would of been so happy to have found out loki was having a child, you would be so proud of him” y/n cries silently as the pregnancy hormones kick in, mourning her late mother-in-law, a small pang of sadness shooting through his chest at your mention of his mother. Frigga would have been more than happy to learn she would be a grandmother to Loki and y/n child. y/n whispered to herself"I hope loki likes my present I made for him. 

Loki was deep in thoughts and admiring y/n but were cut short as y/n turned to look at her bed where the present layed she saw a figure and screamed out of shock not knowing it was loki. “Darling! It’s me!” loki quickly assured and entered the bathroom. “LOKI WHAT THE HELL! WHY ARE YOU STANDING THERE!” y/n put a hand on my her bare chest. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction, his smile growing as you attempted to calm yourself down, you nearly scared me to death, she said while laughing harder, she started to quiet down as she took a deep breath and recollect myself, she then paused for a moment and realised “how long were you standing there loki. her face now full of concern as the thought of him hearing what she said to herself would upset loki. His smile faded, however, as you asked how long he had been standing there. He looked down at the floor for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly

“Well… I may have heard a… fair bit.” He hesitantly admitted, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

y/n had a look of regret thinking I may of have offended loki about talking myself down about being a good mother “I'm sorry" y/n said looking down in disapointment, tears are flowing down her face" I want to be a good mother like frigga, she raised you and thor so wonderfully I'm scared I won't be like that for our child" she look at loki still crying" I know you'll be the best father but I'm so scared that I won't be the best mother” she cried harder. 

loki couldn’t help but have his heart break as tears began to fall down your face. He quickly closed the distance between the two of you, dropping down to his knees in front of the side of the tub, gently cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to look at him

“Darling, please don’t cry, You will be a wonderful mother.”

He said quietly, his thumbs gently caressing your wet, tear-stained cheeks. 

y/n looked loki in his green beautiful eyes and smiled lightly "thank you my love" embarrassment washed over me as I realised my pregnancy hormones got over her "I'm so sorry I think it's the pregnancy hormones that got over me, oh this is embarrassing" she laughe slightly and look at loki lovingly "you should get in the tub with me my love, you've had a busy day you should relax with me before I give you my present" y/n gave loki a squick smirk. 

loki chuckled, his eyes locking with yours as a smile crept onto his face. He couldn’t think of a more wonderful way to end this night. He quickly stood up, removing his outer robes, dropping them on the floor next to him. “I would love nothing more, darling.”

He said as he climbed into the tub, positioning himself behind you, allowing you to lean back against his bare chest, loki then grabbed a damp cloth and soaped it up and stared to massage your shoulders. y/n relaxed into loki’s chest "I can't wait to bring our child into this world" she smiled as she grab Loki's larger hand and placed it on her belly. 

A wave of excitement washes over loki as you place his hand upon your stomach. He couldn’t help but let out a deep exhale as he caressed your stomach gently under the water. His mind began to race with thoughts, wondering what their child will look like, will they have your eyes, or his. He couldn’t wait to find out “Neither can I, love. This child will be absolutely beautiful.” y/n look up at loki behind her “I hope they are like you my love, to have a little trickster running around the halls of asgard, and you and I teaching them magic." y/n smiled and turned her body around to face loki in the tub and kiss loki on the lips deeply, I felt his hands hold my hips as a straddle his waist. 

He couldn’t help but picture the sweet image you had just painted in his mind, a child running through the halls, doing mischievous little tricks, with the two parents who taught them. It is a perfect picture in his mind. Loki couldn't wait to teach his child the magic tricks his mother showed him when he was younger. 

Loki thoughts were cut off when his body immediately responded to you straddling his waist, a soft moan escaped him as you kissed him hard. He could feel himself getting aroused and he pulled you deeper into the kiss, placing his hands gently on your thighs. 

y/n could feel herself get wet as loki placed his hands on her thighs, trying to not break the deep kiss she guided his hand to her , y/n deepened the kiss by pushing her tongue in Loki's mouth and shared each other's saliva, she moaned when loki broke our kiss and ravished her neck and inserted a finger into her heated entrance. 

Loki could tell that you were getting aroused at the touch of his hands, and he couldn’t fight the growing desire in his stomach anymore. He let out a deep groan as you forced his fingers to touch you. He broke the kiss, only so he can leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulder, gently sucking and biting as he went down. He couldn’t help but push a finger in, feeling just how wet and aroused you were already. 

y/n whimpered between the crook of his neck as he fingered her slowly, she gently peppered his neck with soft kisses as he devoured her neck in rough needy kisses ‘loki.. I-I  need you inside me.. Please.” y/n beg softly, loki growled deeply against her neck and he pulled his finger out of her, she gasped in the sudden emptiness he left. 

He could barely hold himself back from taking you right there, your sweet moans, the way you begged for him and the way you left kisses on his neck pushed him over the edge. He picked you up, as he positioned himself to enter you “God my darling, you’ve got such a power over me.” loki whispered in y/n ear in desire and lust, y/n looked down at loki, her body shaking from arousal, as she feel loki’s tip at her entrance he stopped there and didn't enter yet, and y/n pleaded "loki please.. I need you.” she begged “I need to take me how you desire, I need you too fuck me hard and good like a good little princess, please.. my king" y/n said in agony, that it's like something snapped in loki as she said 'my king'." 

The moment the words left your mouth and loki heard you call him ‘my king’. Every single cell in his body began to buzz with excitement and a feeling of control, you were his and he was yours. Loki looked up at you with an animalistic look, his eyes dilated as he slammed himself into you, not holding back anymore “Good girl… begging for her king. You’re mine, don’t ever forget that princess” as Loki growled against your neck, lifting you up and down on his cock going faster and faster, with the water from the bath spilling everywhere on the bathroom floor.  y/n moaned loudly as his thick member pumped into her tight pussy harder, " oh my gods... my king.. Im Yours, all yours, no one else's.. "your moans became louder as loki began to bounce you up and down on his member slower but deeper, you were feeling a knot beginning to swell as she was coming to a close pleasurable end, as you were bouncing on Loki's massive cock, you could tell he was coming close too as his rhythm was becoming sloppy and uneven, “come for me my king” you whispered to loki.  

Just the way you were speaking was driving him crazy, claiming that you were his, and only his. The way you said ‘my king’ made his mind swim with thoughts of having complete control over you, and you willingly giving yourself, As you come undone and loki chasing his orgasm after you, y/n slumped onto loki out of exhaustion. Loki pulled himself out of y/n and  gasped softly making loki chuckle". “I still need to give you your present.. but I don't think I can walk” y/n I giggled into loki’s chest and looked up, seeing loki’s messy hair and sweaty forehead from their past activities". 

Loki couldn’t help but chuckle along with you as you spoke, a smirk creeping onto his face when you told him you had a present for him but could not move. His hair, messier, and his forehead covered in a thin layer of sweat, the exhaustion of what you both just did still lingering in his muscles “And how exactly do you suppose you’ll give me this present if you can’t walk darling?”

y/n giggled and look at loki with big puppy dog eyes "you could maybe carry me over to our bed" y/n giggled even more seeing Loki's face at the offer she gave him.. Loki gave you a mock look of annoyance as you told him to carry you to the bed, though he knew he could never say no to that face. He rolled his eyes at you

“You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that?”

He said, letting out a sigh of fake annoyance, though he didn’t protest when he picked you up in his arms and slowly made his way to your bed. 

y/n hung on loki tightly peppering his face in kisses, as he made our way to the foot of the bed loki gave me a mischievous grin, I looked at him confused, and then he suddenly threw me onto the bed without warning making me yelp out loud.He chuckled at your surprised yell as he suddenly tossed you onto the bed, his heart filling with joy, as y/n hit the bed she had a fit of laughter and so did loki, the sound of pure happiness was music to his ears." do you want your present or what?!” y/n said jokingly, loki and I were still laughing but quieting down, I turned around and crawled up the bed to the bedside table and brought out a box, I patted the spot next to me signalling for loki to sit down next to me. he took your invitation and sat down next to you, his curiosity piqued as you grabbed a small box from the bedside table and sat down next to him “Alright darling, what’s in the box?”

y/n gave loki the box and gestured him to open it, when he did his eyebrows raised when he pulled out two green and gold colour daggers, with snake like handles and their first initials on the bottom handle. y/n look at him awaiting a response worried if he liked them or not. Loki was speechless as he got a good look at the two daggers in front of him, the green and gold colours immediately caught his eye and he carefully picked them up, gently tracing the snake handles with his fingers and feeling the initials etched into the bottom, “Darling… these are beautiful.” He said, his gaze moving from the daggers to look up at you, a soft smile on his face. “I made them from scratch, so when you go into battle you can always have a part of me when we aren't near." 

loki was genuinely shocked and touched at your gift, the thought you must have put into it, and the pure craftsmanship of the both of them. He couldn’t help but turn his head and capture your lips in a deep kiss, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Pulling away from the kiss, his forehead gently resting against yours

“They’re perfect, love. I’ll never go anywhere without them”

“I'm glad you like them, Loki.” I smile, then I yawn, sleep slowly taking over my body.  I think it's time for us to go to bed love, you got a busy day tomorrow my king.” smile weakly at Loki, as y/n pulled Loki into the covers with her. He felt your hand gently grip his own and place it over your stomach, his heart fluttering at the thought of your growing child within you. He pulled you closer, positioning himself comfortably on his back, gently pressing a kiss to your temple, “Goodnight, my darling. Sleep well.”

[starlightsuffered]

Forbidden (the end)

Info - pretending to be kidnapped, brother sacrificing happiness for you, unprotected sex, love making, guilt, sucking fingers, PDA, feeding food, mentions of war and murder

"My love, I have some bad news," Hal told me gently. We'd been married in the night, with a few friends. The stars had celebrated our love. I'd been crowned Queen the next week. There were no messages or gifts from my family.

"What is it?" I asked him. It's been odd that he hadn't been beside me in the morning to take me once before breakfast.

"I got word early this morning that your brother is back from his trip abroad. He's heard of your departure, and is not happy."

"Abril is back?" I asked. My brother and I had always been close. He'd gone on a trip to the outer kingdoms for a year. Knowing he was back was exciting. I could tell him he may be an uncle soon as Hal and I had decided to start trying.

"I know you love him, but we may need to keep up appearances. You may have to play a role..." he trailed off.

"What kind of role?"

"The one of pet," he cringed.

He explained to me that I might've been able to convince Abril of our love. but the men coming with him would most likely be some that had seen him storm the throne room. He figured I needed to keep up appearances as captured.

"I don't know Hal," I said as I sat on his lap in an incredibly revealing dress.

"Wouldn't the kingdom understand that my father is a tyrant who wouldn't let us get married," I asked.

"I can't risk that angel. If they find out he had me thrown from his castle, naked, how would they respect me. They would have thought I should have started a war for you. You wouldn't want that, I didn't want to kill any more of your people than needed. It's better they think you a brave stolen princess, and me a harsh evil king than entering into a war. You know I'd have to kill your father to win.

"Thank you for being so kind, I'm just worried. I left behind my people. Who will protect them now?"

"Abril?" Timothée asked.

"I am older than him, I suppose he'll be offered the crown now, but he's never wanted it. He doesn't want marriage."

"I'm sorry you fell for such a difficult man my dear," he said, and kissed my throat.

"No, don't be sorry. I'd trade the world for you and then some. My king," I said in a low voice.

"You know it does things to me when you call me that. I used to hate it, but from you it lights a wild fire inside me," he sighed.

"The Queen's brother approaches!" Announced a guard.

Abril came in angrily. He was stalking. His hair was longer, and he was tanner, but not much else had changed.

"Well, well, the first visit from my Queen's family," Hal purred.

"Hungry love?" He asked me. I nodded solemnly, as if I were trapped. He fed me a slice of apple and chuckled.

"What is this, my sister is a strong princess of our country, not some lap dog," Abril snapped.

"Mmm, I'm getting a bit riled up from this talk. I need calmed. Y/n, suck," he said and gave me his fingers, bejeweled with rings. I had to force myself not to moan at the idea. I secretly loved the way he was acting. Knowing he secretly adored me and would crawl through broken glass for me, but could also treat me like a toy and order me around.

"Stop forcing her into this," Abril snapped.

"My Queen," he said into the skin of my neck, and his hand massaged my inner thigh, dangerously close to my heat. I couldn't help the whine I let out. I couldn't believe he was doing this in front of my brother.

"Are you unhappy? Am I forcing you into anything?"

"No," I spoke over his fingers.

"I want to talk to my sister alone," he demanded.

"Yes," I said to Hal's shock. I removed myself from him and got up gracefully. I led Abril away from his men.

"I missed you," he said giving me a hug.

"I missed you too," I said.

"What is going on here. I don't understand, this isn't like you," he said. I made a decision.

"I love him. I've been in love with him for years. Dad wouldn't let me be with him because I was engaged. He caught us and kept us apart. I wasn't okay. I couldn't take being apart from him. He pretended I stole a valuable ring when he actually gave it to me. It was how he took me. I'm in full control. He'd never hurt me. He loves me. We are soulmates," I explained emotionally.

"I believe you," he whispered. "I know what father wants. That family, they do a lot for the kingdom. They have a daughter..."

"Abril no, please, don't throw away your life for me. You've never wanted the crown or marriage," I said.

"I've been free my whole life. You've always had to be the strong one, but I've done whatever I wanted. Let me do this for you. As a man, I'll have a lot more Liberty, you know it," he said.

"Abril," I sighed.

"No, I'm going to do it anyway. I have never seen you this happy. I care about your happiness.”

"Abril, thank you," I cried and pulled him into a hug. When they left I sobbed in Hal's arms.

"He said he'd do it no matter what. My love, don't feel guilty," he begged.

"I don't, that's the issue, I'm so so happy. I love you and everything is fixed," I said tearily. "I should feel awful, but I'm so happy."

"I love you," he said gently.

"Can we make love?" I asked. He pushed into me moments later. He began to pump inside me.

"My Queen, you deserve the world I'm sorry I can only give you a kingdom," he whispered.

"Your heart is all I need," I smiled.

"I never thought I'd have someone like you," he said and I heard the emotions in his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"I was a party boy, a drunk, forced to be king. I didn't deserve shit, but I got the best thing," he said and kissed me so tenderly I could've cried too.

"I adore you more than anything," I said. "I can't wait for life with you. Every little thing, I need it all."

"I'm close," he murmured.

"Me too," I cried. Soon we came together and fireworks exploded. We were perfect and meant to be, and we would rule together.

"Never be forbidden to me again," I murmured to him.

"If I'm wholly yours, how can I be forbidden?"