#I don't know what the fuck else to write in that description

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

Nsfw warning. Ford literally fucking bill under the cut. It's not like... explicit? You can't like... See. anything. It's so dumb. I'm playing this for laughs. It's for the bit guys

FUCK FOR YOUR LIFE, ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(YOU DIE IN THE MINDSCAPE YOU DIE FOR REAL *lying*) This is so dumb but this is a scenario that kept replaying in my head when I started liking this ship. EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT FORD FUCKING THE TRIANGLE AND NO ONE COMMITS TO THE BIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well thankfully, I have no standards. I drew this like a month ago and I was laughing the whole time. I think it was subconsciously inspired by the part in adams family values when debbie throws that bigass casette player in the bathtub.

This was on Patreon for a little over ten days, and now I'm releasing it to the world wide web, like a rehabilitated animal returning to nature. I sorta hemmed and hawed as to whether I should just leave it on Patreon, because it kinda seemed like it's home after a while. But when I was drawing this, it was always my intention to put it on tumblr. That being said, the "nsfw" stuff I've been making specifically for patreon is a little more... idk, obtuse? It leaves less to the imagination :'D So I guess this is fine.

[david-watts]

have I accidentally gotten myself too tipsy to write. well. that's embarrassing

[honeyblackberries]

In the back seat (18+)

caleb x fem reader/mc smut

minors dni | inspired by diet pepsi by addison rae | cross-posted to ao3

word count: 1466

cw: simp caleb, soft dom caleb, he also likes to bite, pantie freak caleb, reader enables him, praise, oral (fem receiving), p in v, responsible car sex <333 (don't get freaky in a rental car irl), irresponsible intercourse (caleb doesn’t wrap it before he taps it), porn with feelings, porn no plot because idk how to write plot but i also can’t really write porn so maybe this is a secret third thing, no set pov.

names used: pips (pipsqueak but cuter), good girl, pretty girl, my girl

If Caleb is being honest with himself this moment is something straight out of his teenage fantasies. Driving along the coast with you in the passenger's seat, listening as you sing along to a song that’s been on repeat for the past half hour. Hair softly blowing in the wind as the late afternoon sun glows behind you like a halo.

You’re an angel he thinks, how else could you bless him with such a gift on one of his rare days off. The keys to his dream car—with the disclaimer that it was only a rental during his visit to Linkon—and that short sundress… His gaze unconsciously drifts from the road and onto you.

Maybe wet dreams are a better description for this. The way the hem of your dress rides up your thighs while you shift to find a more comfortable position, cotton panties peeking out underneath it.

Your eyes meet his and Caleb feels his pants tighten.

Today was supposed to be a well deserved break from all the demands that come with being the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel. Something relaxing. Yet he can’t help but feel inclined to the complete opposite. Back ramrod straight and hand, previously loose and confident on the wheel, now gripping it so tight that his knuckles strain.

“I'm happy you’re here,” you say sweetly and he has to stop himself from acting like a horny dog. “Is there anything you wanna do before we head home?”

“Eat you out,” he thinks dreamily.

“..What?”

Shit. Shit. How could he say that out loud!? He’s an idiot, a depraved fool—

“Well, okay.”

He almost crashes the car.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to—I mean—I didn’t mean to say it out loud,” you laugh at him and he isn’t sure whether to be mortified or turned on.

“Pull over.” He does.

Caleb doesn’t realise it but despite the less than innocent circumstances his silly reaction makes you smile. Happy at the expression that settles on his handsome face. How his eyes light up in a way you never really see anymore, giddy and unrestrained.

‘Cute,’ you want to tease, but he’s already rolling the tinted windows up. Undoing his seatbelt and moving into the back seat. Oh how could you keep him waiting when he’s just so eager? You undo your own seatbelt and amusedly follow along. Moving to get on top of him.

“Don’t hover pips,” he instructs—in that know-it-all voice he’s used since you were kids—and you don’t get the chance to consider it. Not when his hands trail under your skirt to grab your thighs and impatiently bring you down onto his face.

“Fuck you smell so good,” his nose presses right against your clothed heat. He inhales deeply. “I could get off just from smelling you, just from smelling these,” his lips part to let teeth graze the thin fabric of your panties.

“I can keep 'em when we're done, yeah?” His hot breath makes a shiver run through you in anticipation. His tongue licks down the centre where a wet patch starts to form. “I’ll cook dinner in return.”

You want to argue that he always cooks dinner. But you want what he’s currently offering more.

Your small hum of agreement is all he needs.

Safe to say, Caleb does mouth at you like a dog. Desperate, hungry, tongue heavy and slobbering. You have to push yourself against his chest to keep steady. The toned muscles there flexing as he eats like he’s been starved.

“Good girl, sittin’ so pretty for me,” his praise is barely understandable. Voice muffled and lower than a moment ago.

One of his hands leaves your thighs, his fingers moving to the fabric separating you. He teasingly pulls it back and lets go, a light snap against your skin. You flinch and he chuckles in response. He then pushes it to the side to expose you bare to him. Continuing to lick, this time with the addition of his thumb rubbing directly against your sensitive bud.

“Delicious,” he moans at the taste and sucks at your clit for more.

You’re not sure how long you last before everything crashes down all at once. Your orgasm racking your body and leaving you trembling. Dripping right into his open mouth.

The way your breath hitches and small whines you make when you cum always remind him how he could spend the rest of his life between your thighs. Forever wanting you pliant in his hold like this.

As you start to feel yourself coming down from the high, Caleb lightly bites at your tender flesh, making you yelp. He places a soft kiss in apology, even though you both know he isn’t sorry in the slightest.

In an act of revenge you start to reach for where he needs it. Fingertips barely brushing the large tent in his pants before he grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Next time pips, I’ll go crazy if I’m not inside you soon.” At that you’re suddenly flipped around, back pressed against the leather seat. Wedged in the cramped space afforded to you between the car and his large body.

Caleb looks down at you with a wide grin. The lower half of his face damp with your arousal and his own saliva.

“Let me put it in?”

Even when he’s like this the words come out as a question. He’ll only do it if you let him, only if you want it half as much as he does. His silver necklace dangles in front of you and reflected in it is your lips, curled up into an affirmative.

Caleb wastes no time. Hurriedly undoing his pants and freeing his hard leaking cock. Leaning over you with one hand beside your head as the other grasps his reddened tip and nudges you panties to the side with it. Lining himself up he sinks into you slowly.

“You’re heaven,” he yaps, already pussy drunk. "You feel like heaven, ugh—like you were made for me. Weren’t you?”

He shakes his head at his own words, as if a better explanation came to him. Then he resolutely bottoms out inside you.

“No, I was the one made for you.”

“Caleb—” you whine at the feeling of being so full. Arms moving to wrap around his torso, not sure if to hold him closer or push him away.

He groans, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to fight off the orgasm that would have had him cumming from the way you say his name. Testingly, he pulls out slightly just to push back in. Repeating shallow thrusts to get you comfortable.

“More,” you beg.

“Of course,” he kisses you and you can taste yourself on him. “I aim to please.” His pace quickens, becoming rough. You can’t help but clench at the immediate change.

“Oh shit—loosen up pretty girl.” You try to.

Over and over you feel his cock try to make your cunt give in to him, and when he feels the grip of your walls ease up slightly he angles his hips to hit deeper.

You claw at his back, the fabric of his shirt catching under your fingers. The feeling of him too much.

“You like that huh?”

The car windows are fogging at the spike in body heat, neither of you letting up until you both get your fill. The sounds of shallow breathing and skin against skin the only thing that can be heard.

Caleb bites your lip when he kisses you in between thrusts. Like he wants to devour you in every way possible.

“I’m—close,” you bury your face into his neck, trying to ground yourself.

He nearly slips entirely out of you. Hips starting to lose their rhythm, a sign that he is too.

“I know—fuck—cum with me.”

Your release comes first, and he doesn’t last long after.

“That's my girl.”

His movements slow as he spills into you. A white ring forming around the base of him as a mix of both your cum tries to leak out. He grinds a few times to make sure it stays then collapses on top of you.

The two of you remain like that for a few minutes, relishing in the feeling of your chests pressed together as you cool down. Caleb’s cock slowly going limp inside you.

His hands move to cradle your face, gently stroking your cheeks as he kisses all over with cherishing lightness.

“I love you.”

“Love you too Caleb.”

Then he has to go and ruin the moment.

“Panties please,” he holds out his hand. Asking for a treat.

You sigh, the post-nut clarity kicking in. “I’ll give it to you after I wash it.”

“Don’t wash it.”

“...”

a/n: rip need everyone to know this was initially supposed to be a sylus fic. also what do we think do we like me actually trying to make the layout nice/not write in all lowercase??

[hellfire--cult]

Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader

wc: 6.7k+

summary: Johnny grows infatuated with you, something he never thought was going to happen to him, at least for a long while. He liked being single, but then you came along, and all he could think about was you... then you got kidnapped thanks to him, and he felt so guilty for it... but not everything was as it seemed.

warnings: +18 smut, p in v (no protection), roughness, hate fucking, some fluffiness, branding of skin, description of getting burnt, slapping, some violence, porn with plot

a/n: I had this vision that needed to be written cause it would not leave my fucking mind, and this was the only chance i would be able to write something like this. I will clarify, this is my first ever MCU fic, and I do not believe I will write anything else for it, at least not now. If you are from the MCU fandom, and decide to follow me, don't expect more really... i mainly write stranger things, i was just... too haunted with this image...

Anyways, I love Joseph Quinn, so I pictured HIS Johnny Storm for this (yes, he triggered the thots.)

thank u to @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading this and helping with my editing cause i never wrote marvel and i needed their opinion, i love both thank u

Enjoy and don't forget to reblog!

BRAND ME

When Johnny Storm saw you for the first time, he thought Cupid fired an arrow his way.

Now, it wasn’t the best of situations of course, he had to save you from a slight altercation regarding some of Doctor Doom’s subjects wreaking havoc in the city and all that, and he saved you by beating up the guy that held you hostage in spirits of saving his ass. 

You had thanked him, smiled at him and he may or may have not thought of having you as one of his conquests. He was known for it, you absolutely knew about it, but he couldn’t really help himself when he started talking to you. He first asked to meet up with you privately and you immediately rejected his advances, surprising him, sure, but not stopping him, so you offered to meet up with him for a coffee after work. 

Coffee was not something he did often. It was usually drinks, and to be fair, no women really ever said no to him. Sure he messed up a few times, but who hasn’t? Still, sharing a coffee with you didn’t sound like a bad idea. It was different, but different didn’t always mean bad. 

So you gave him the address to your building, and at 1 PM sharp on Tuesday, he met up with you right outside of it. You were wearing the typical office attire, skirt to the knees, a nice blouse, a comfortable jacket and he still thought you looked absolutely beautiful. Sitting down at the coffee shop, you two talked, and talked, and he found out so much about you.

You were an only child, and you have been working since you could remember. You lived alone, you liked to cook, and you absolutely disliked pickles. Every small thing he found out about you, he reciprocated with a fact about himself, without giving much away of course.

One coffee date turned into two. Then four. Then, counting didn’t matter anymore.

For a month he has been seeing you, and never once has he made a move on you. It’s not that he didn’t want to… He absolutely wanted to. But you were different. You were completely different from all the flings he had, and he even tried to have one after meeting you and it felt pointless. He didn’t know himself any longer, even Reed got a little worried from all the sneaking around he did, but Johnny couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help it when it came to you.

You were magnificent, a breath of fresh air to be around with. You always greeted him with a smile to your face and he’s never felt more alive when you did. He, of course, had to be careful with you. Not because of trust, but of what might happen to you if you were seen being involved with one of the Fantastic Four. He always picked out private places for the two of you to meet, away from public eyes. 

Coffee shops turned into take-out coffees and parks. Talks that happened at your home’s balcony. Him looking for a comforting shoulder after a long day of being a hero. He was always careful in keeping you away from public. In keeping you a secret. In keeping you safe.

But not careful enough.

When you didn’t answer your phone that day, his heart stopped. You always answered. He tried and tried but you just wouldn’t pick up and he became restless. He flew out of the headquarters, not caring for the waves people gave him, with your apartment as his only destination. He felt himself growing cold despite being up in flames, flying, the horrible feeling that something happened to you making him want to puke.

And when he arrived at your home, he froze. Your balcony’s sliding door was open and what he saw inside made his whole world shatter. Your things were all thrown to the floor. Your furniture was destroyed. Your pictures were all broken and shattered. And then, as he put a foot into your apartment, he saw you. 

You were breathing heavily as you lay on the floor, facing down, and your hair was all over your face. He rushed towards you, jumping over everything that was on the floor, and immediately dropped to his knees in order to scoop you up in his arms and turn you. He pushed the hair off your face as his heart beat loudly in his chest, only for it to come to a stop as he saw the open wound on your eyebrow and the bruise that was starting to form all around it. 

“Crap– fuck!” He felt his world plummeting to the ground as he tried shaking you awake, calling out your name, and he sighed with relief as your eyes slowly opened, only for your face to contort into a wince.

“What…?” He shook his head at you and held onto your form, one arm underneath the back of your knees while the other was wrapped behind your back. He got up on his two feet with ease as he rushed towards the balcony. You made a sound of discomfort as you were moved around, and all he wanted was to keep you safe right now. He needed to take you with him. He cannot leave you alone, not when all of this is probably his fault.

“It’ll be quick, I promise…” He took a deep breath as he controlled his flames temperature, ensuring it would not go towards his arms. Your eyes looked up to meet his, his eyes that were now fiery orbs, looking down at you with sadness displayed on his eyebrows. You whined through the pain again and he immediately leaped out of your balcony.

You could feel the heat off his body, but he made sure to make it as less uncomfortable as he could, but he still knew he had to be quick. He was angry, desperate, and that wasn’t making the flames be any less intense. He knew he was gonna break a rule, but he couldn’t give two shits for the consequences he might face with his family. His sister was going to kill him, but she will understand. They all will have to understand.

He sneaked you in, heading straight to his room, laying you down on his bed. The rage he felt with himself was scorching him from the inside out, so he took the top of his suit as fast as he could and rushed towards the bathroom to get one of his medical kits. 

He aided you, cleaned your wound, put the butterfly strip over it, and even gave you medicine for any impending headaches. He checked for other wounds besides the one on your eye, but there was nothing else, at least from the places where your clothes did not cover you. 

An hour passed and you were slowly coming back to your senses. You opened your eyes to see him walking back and forth, pacing, worry displayed on his features as he seemed deep in thought. You slowly sat up on the bed, looking around, wincing slightly thanks to the throbbing in your head.

“Johnny?” Your voice was small but it was enough for his head to snap towards you and rush to the bed, sitting on the edge right next to you. His hand came up to caress the side of face, making sure to not touch the bruise on your eye.

“Hey…” His eyes were filled with fear, anger, sadness, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat as your eyes roamed all over the room.

“Where… am I?” Your eyes found his again and he gulped, thumb caressing your cheek softly.

“My room… I– I couldn’t leave you alone…” Your eyes widened for just a second to then look down at your hands. Your breathing turned heavy as your eyes filled with tears, shaking your head at him.

“I– I thought it was you… I opened the sliding door and– They wanted information–” Your voice was cut off with a sob and Johnny saw how you winced in pain, your hand flying to press onto your temple and he quickly shushed you, scooching closer to you, lifting his hand to grab yours gently and move it away from your face.

“Don’t touch it– I… I seriously thought I was careful in keeping you safe and hidden… I screwed up.” Your eyes met his, seeing the guilt that was flooding inside, knowing he was torturing himself because of it. His lips were downturned, disappointment written all over. You shook your head at him, your hand grasping his.

“I don’t regret a minute of it…” His eyes met yours as you guided your gaze around the room, frowning slightly as your headache seemed to start to drift away. “So this is your room…” “Fantastic Four headquarters… nobody knows I sneaked you in, but I really couldn’t care less. I won’t let you out of my sight, at least until whoever is stalking me is captured.” You turned towards him again, a soft smile on your lips that made his heart combust in its own flames.

“Probably a fan.” Even now you still joked to him, when you were the one hurt. You were too beautiful. Too incredible, even for his own good. He should be careful with his moves, he should let you know how different you are to his other flings… but his body betrayed him as his free hand came towards your cheek, holding it gently, and his lips surged forward, slotting right onto yours.

Your eyes were wide as a surprised gasp fell from your lips, but you reciprocated that kiss, even if a bit hesitant at first. His lips moved with yours as his body started rising in temperature which he was trying to keep at a warm number. He could easily control his temperature but with you, he was finding it hard to do so. 

He was happy because you were not pulling away from the kiss. You were moving into it, following his lead, not even stopping it after your tongues started to dance together. He wanted you. He definitely wanted to show you just how special you are but– You were hurt, and he can’t do that to you now… so he pulled away. Your breaths were heavy as you looked at each other and he rubbed your cheek with his thumb.

“I’ll tell everyone  tomorrow you’re staying here for a while. You need safety, and I can give that to you… Just stay with me…” He held you so gently, afraid of you running away, or disappearing right before him. You licked your lips as you nodded slowly at him, to which he responded with a satisfied smile. He leaned forward, pecking your lips once more before getting up which alarmed you, getting hold of his hand.

“Where are you going?” Your voice was small and he thought he was going to break listening to it. 

“I’m not going anywhere, just going to get you some clothes for you to sleep in, baby.” Your eyes widened at the new petname, but Johnny noticed how you tried to look away from embarrassment, and he found you too cute. He will definitely protect you. He won’t let whoever is looking for him, or his team, hurt you. 

But when he fell asleep and cuddled up to you after having some tea with you before bed, he didn’t expect to be awoken in the middle of the night to a ring of his cell phone. He was startled, sitting up on the bed quickly only to realize you were not by his side. He looked around frantically and grabbed his phone from the night table next to his bed. He answered it, getting up from the bed to walk towards his bathroom in hopes of seeing you in there.

“Hello?” And all he heard was heavy breathing on the other side until a raspy, robotic voice talked.

“How does it feel to wake up alone?” And Johnny’s blood drained, evaporated, and he knows you are not in the building. How did it happen? How? There were cameras, security, detectors, how?

“What the fuck did you do to her?” His voice was coming from in between his teeth, like a growl, a hiss, a threat. The other voice only laughed, igniting Johnny’s anger even more than before.

“Come find out. We’re at her old apartment. We have to talk, Johnny, so come alone.” And like that, the line clicked. He was breathing heavily as he looked down at his phone and his hand shook as he grunted, his eyes igniting in yellow as the hand that was holding his phone set aflame, destroying the device before he threw it across the room, making it hit and for the plastic to splash onto the wall. 

He ran his hands through his hair, wanting to rip it all out, to burn the whole building down. If he didn’t tell anyone, he might die, but if he does, then you… He couldn’t. He has a chance, even if alone. He has to save you, he can’t let them have you, he can’t let you suffer because of him. 

So he stepped out to his balcony, his body engulfed in flames as he leaped into the sky, headed straight to your apartment. He was trying to go as fast as he could, his breathing heavy with anticipation as he swerved through the buildings. He finally got onto your balcony, the sliding doors were open again but when he looked inside, he couldn’t help but feel confused.

He took a few steps in as his flames subdued, and all your furniture was gone. All your pictures, even the cabinets… it was just empty. Empty except for the big windows that were on the side. What happened?

A chuckle coming from one corner startled him. It was the robotic voice that slowly transformed into a female one. A voice he knew too well. A voice that never chuckled in that manner, always be it a giggle, or a little scoff, but never… this. He turned to face it, and his eyes widened as the figure stepped into the small bit of light that came through the windows thanks to the night sky.

“Aren’t you a little naive Johnny?” 

And there, in front of him, was you. Face hard, wearing a simple cocktail black dress, some black heels… nothing like what you normally wear. You didn’t look dizzy because of your bruise, the butterfly strip he applied to you hours ago was still there. It was you… but at the same time, it wasn’t.

“W-What…?” He stuttered, not feeling the tips of his fingers as he looked at how you slowly walked towards him, throwing a device to the ground, a voice-changing device. 

“I really didn’t think you would take me to your headquarters. Not this quickly at least.” You sighed, looking out the window as you kept talking. “I had a whole large plan for it, but you just had to make it THAT easy.”

You finished with a giggle, the giggle that he knew too well. The giggle you directed to him many times when he told you stories about Sue and him. Stories about how he made a fool out of himself on a few dates. The giggle that he liked so much… all for it to be a fucking lie. You–

“You lied to me… You–” He felt his heart twist as your eyes turned to meet his once more. He really isn’t lucky, isn’t he? The first time he feels something genuine and he gets stepped on by the universe. You took a step towards him as you put your hands behind your back.

“Not all the time. I can promise that, but my boss will be glad to hear I got into the headquarters in such a short period of time…” Your eyes studied his face, seeing how his features turned from shock to anger, slowly, making a wicked grin appear on your face. “Aw… are you mad?”

“What the fuck do you think?” His voice turned low, and it almost made you freeze in your place, but you kept talking, your head high.

“You look cute when mad. I wish I could take a picture right now–”

“Stop–”

“I would hang it up, frame it… Name it ‘My best show yet’.” Johnny felt his body start to burn, and he had to try to keep the flames from igniting out of his suit, but each word you spat out, made it more and more difficult for him to hold himself back.

“I said stop–”

“I just didn’t think it would be this quick. Who would've thought that Johnny Storm would be so desperate for actual love? So much, he throws himself head first like an idiot–” 

A hand came to grab the back of your head, fingers gripping onto your scalp, grabbing your hair, and yanking your head backwards with no restraint, no care. And suddenly your eyes were looking at the Human Torch. His eyes were yellow flames, his face, his hair, his body, everything was on fire and it was burning you. He was baring his teeth at you, your face illuminated by his flames, and you noticed the hand holding the back of your head was not lit.

“I could kill you right now. I could easily burn you to a crisp for no one to find your body.” You trembled under his grasp, and your breathing turned a little heavy as you stared into his flaming eyes.

“But you won’t…” Your reply was soft, making the flames go down, making you breathe out in relief, feeling the cool air again on your body and face. He was still glaring, his nose slightly scrunched up in anger, in disgust. “Approaching you romantically was never the intention.” 

That made him tilt his head at you, his eyebrow twitching at the mention of romance. Of how he was so close to having it but–

“Why tell me this? Why not keep the fucking act until you have more?” And you didn’t answer him, still under his grasp as you looked up at him. He couldn’t describe what he saw in your eyes, but he knew that it wasn’t hatred. He knew that there was a feeling that you shouldn’t be experiencing but you couldn’t help it.

So you stayed silent, swallowing as you kept your eyes on him. You saw him tremble slightly and he raised his free hand, making your gaze turn to it as the flames enveloped it all, to the tip of his fingers. It wasn’t a massive flame, more like embers, small, yet damaging. 

You felt anything but scared of him, and he knows it, yet his anger fuels him in ways he cannot describe, and he wants to show you. He wants to show you just how fucking angry, enraged, he is. He wants to hurt you, burn you, engrave himself deep on your skin and in your mind. 

“Say you don’t want this.” He needs to know if he connected the dots right. Why tell him? Why tell him who you truly were? Why not keep faking it to get more out of him? Did you take whatever you needed in the short period he kept you there? Those few little hours…

You remained silent, looking into his eyes as you struggled in his grasp slightly. Your right hand flew to the wrist holding the back of your head, which only made him pull on your hair once more, making you wince. It was another warning, another chance for you to push him away.

But you didn’t.

His right hand lifted up to reveal that it was slowly being covered in small embers, not yet flames, and he pressed it on your back. Your eyes widened when you felt heat engulf your back, the scent of burning fabric filling your nostrils. You winced when the burning turned a bit painful, his eyes not leaving your face. 

He was still scowling at you, his eyes traveling to your exposed neck as his hand kept moving on your back, making small holes in it, the embers spreading slightly. He knew he was burning you, but it doesn’t compare to what you did to him. You will heal from these superficial burns.

You wanted to tell him to hurry up, but you knew that you weren’t the one with control right now, so you had to be careful with your words. You yelped when his hand started moving to your front, leaving embers fluttering over the black satin. It was burning easily, the material too thin, too flimsy. 

His eyes caught onto yours once more. You were breathing heavily, waiting for his next move. He clenched his jaw as the memories of those picnics filled his head. Those movie nights. Those nights when you told him about your family. You showed him those pictures that were on your wall that you probably faked. Those pictures were all fake.

His fist grabbed onto the front of your dress and pulled on it as he grunted from the force. Your dress ripped easily away from your body thanks to the holes that were burned on your back and side. Your body will probably have scarring, burnt marks, or red spots, but you couldn’t help the excitement in your body when he held your torn dress in his hand.

His eyes turned to it for a second and then back at you. You saw how they glowed in a deep yellow and his hand engulfed into flames, your dress catching on fire and burning into ashes in three seconds. His eyes returned to their natural color as his hand dropped, and then he could finally take a look at your half-naked form. 

You took the opportunity of his distraction to push him away, making him rip his hand off your hair, looking at you with surprise and anger. You were breathing heavily in just your bra and thong, a matching black set, looking at him, the anger in you also coming out to light after how he treated you. 

Anger, but no hatred. Not from your side… nor his.

So you took a sharp intake of breath as you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you slammed your lips against his, connecting your chest to his. He groaned at the kiss, his arms immediately wrapping around your frame, his lips moving against yours instantly, like a starved man. Weeks of wanting this with you, dreaming of having you, but he never thought it would be like this.

You bit his bottom lip, yanking a bit on it with your teeth, provoking a protest on his part but you silenced it by sliding your tongue into his mouth. You moaned in satisfaction as his right hand slid downwards, grabbing onto your ass cheek and squeezing tight. You responded by raising your leg up, thigh against his hip, while his hand moved, leaving your behind to graze your thigh, gripping it tightly to hold you in place.

His hips pressed against your core, earning him a moan from you. You felt his buckle against your clothed cunt as well as his hardness as he rutted himself on you, moaning into your mouth. One of your hands went towards his hair, running your fingers through it and then you gripped tightly, pulling his head backwards and away from the kiss. He hissed at the action, his eyes connecting with your defiant ones.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” Your voice came out through your teeth, a taunt. He gave a tilt of his head as if asking if you were really defying him right now. You could almost see the smoke coming out of his nostrils as he huffed in anger, his hands flying to the back of your thighs, pushing you upwards with his strength, making you yelp slightly at the sudden movement.

Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist so you wouldn’t fall, but then your back was slammed against the window, with such force that you were amused by how strong the glass was. You whimpered at the coldness against your naked back and ass, eyes glaring back at him.

“You think you have the right to talk back to me right now?” One of his hands left your thigh so it could get between the two of you. His lips reconnected to yours before you could even reply back to him, and you heard how he started undoing his buckle, that ‘F4’ shaped stupid belt he had.

You felt him move underneath you and you heard the rustling of clothes and then something pressing against your wet thong, making you whimper into the kiss. You pulled away to look down in between the two of you, and he had pulled his pants and underwear mid-thighs, enough to let his cock free, which was now pressing against you.

He got hold of the elastic of your thong, pinching it between his thumb and index finger, pulling it away from your body. You then saw a tiny and quick flame set fire and it quickly snapped the elastic apart, making your thong drop from your cunt, left to dangle thanks to the scraps still holding onto your other thigh. 

You were exposed to him now, and then he pressed himself against your aching clit, rutting his hips against yours, causing a beautiful friction that left you moaning, throwing your head back, thumping against the glass.

He groaned as he looked at your exposed neck, moving forward so he could bite on the side of it, making you wince as your clit kept being hit with the ridge of his dick. It was hot. Literally hot. Not even warm temperature, it was burning and you wondered how that would feel inside of you. 

He was coating his cock with your wetness, and he couldn’t be bothered with foreplay, he didn’t care for it, and you didn’t either, not that you needed it. You’ve been wet the moment he gripped your hair. So he pulled his hips back, letting the tip of his cock kiss your clit for a brief second before it caught on your entrance.

A voiceless moan got caught on your throat, where his teeth still remained, as he slowly pushed inside and– it was a perfect burn and stretch. He was perfect as he seethed himself inside, your walls fluttering in need around him as his mouth unlatched from your throat in order to look at how your face contorted at each inch of him.

“Good. That shut you up.” He held back the groans as he watched how your eyes were wide, looking in between the two of you now, seeing how his cock was disappearing inside of you. He wanted to hate you. He wished he could. It wasn’t fair that even now all he could think about was you, even if it wasn’t like before.

He cracked his neck as he felt his control slipping away, afraid of letting his flames burst out without his intention. He slammed his hand on the glass, right next to your head, as his left one gripped your thigh tightly and he struck his hips forward, bottoming out inside of you in one forceful thrust. 

You gasped as your eyes met his. He was deliciously deep. There was a little bit of discomfort due to not having any prep but it was worth it. He was breathing heavily as he looked at you and your eyes danced with his in uncertainty, in rage, in sadness, in confusion. He was letting you adjust, or maybe he was just catching his breath, either way, you didn’t think you deserved it.

“You’re gonna cum already Johnny boy?” He gave you a glare, which only made you smirk at him. You didn’t deserve the kindness, at least not from him. He started pulling out of you, only to roughly slam back in, causing you to choke on your own moan. You felt it in your throat almost. And then, he set the bruising pace. No mercy, slamming into you like a wild man.

The glass behind you shook, the metal hinges making loud sounds as he kept smashing his hips against yours over and over again, not leaving a single second for conscious thought, not leaving a single second for even a memory to slip through the both of you. All he wanted was to pour his anger out, all he needed was to show you how you made him feel then and how you made him feel now.

The sound of skin slapping echoed through the now empty apartment, an apartment where he spent a few nights with your company. He growled at the memory, his hips picking up a pace as your moans raised in pitch, your fingers digging into his shoulders, scratching on him while your eyes filled with tears. Was it pleasure? He didn’t know.

“Not acting so smartass now, huh?” You choked out a moan as you tried to speak but he was piercing you right where you needed. Your g-spot was being abused at each sharp thrust of his. Punch. Punch. Punch.

You felt your body heating up, more than any other time you slept with someone, feeling as if you were sweating more than you should and you knew it was him. You knew he was raising the temperature of his body, including the one in the entire room. Your forehead was sweaty, your neck, your chest that was still covered in your bra that you now need to rip off because it was just too fucking hot.

You lowered a hand and pressed it against the glass, right next to you, and you grunted as you pushed against it, forcing him to stumble backwards. He fell to the ground, holding onto you, his back hitting the floor, his dick never slipping out of you as you landed on him, which caused you to choke. 

You were breathing heavily as you looked down at him, who only winced slightly at the sudden hit on his ass and back. Your hands were now on his chest, still covered with his suit. You stared at the number 4 logo, glaring at it, and then your eyes found his. He was looking at you now with furrowed brows, sad instead of angry ones. 

You didn’t deserve those.

Your hands went towards your back, unclasping your bra off and ripping it off your body. A sigh of relief escapes you as the air hits the sweat that’s on your tits. Your hips started circling against him, slowly, and he threw his head back as his hands gripped your hips, his digits digging into your skin. 

Your belly coiled as you started rising yourself up and then slam back down again, knees pressing against the hard floor, knowing you will be bruised tomorrow, but you could give two shits about that right now. His hands traveled upwards, grabbing onto your breasts and everywhere he touched just left a lingering feeling of warmth, of burning. 

You threw your head back as his fingers pinched your nipples, making your belly coil as you slammed yourself down again and circled your hips against him, making the tip of his cock rub against your g-spot repeatedly. He moaned your name in pleasure, the first time he did during the night and you looked down at him.

“You sure that’s my name?” And his eyes clashed with yours in new found anger, sitting up as his left hand gripped your waist, while the rest remained on your hip. His face came close to yours as his words became venomous.

“I wonder how many names you had to come up with. With how many you had to whore yourself to in order to get information for your boss. Whoever that might be.” And him calling you a slut was not something you expected. You didn’t want him to think that. You became angry. Not at him, but yet, you had to direct it towards someone.

So you slapped him. 

His head was turned with wide eyes and you had to pretend you weren’t shocked at your own actions. You looked at your hand and then back at him, opening your mouth to say something but as he slowly turned to face you again, you knew you had fucked up. You saved yourself by talking once more.

“I didn’t jump your bones. You jumped mine, back in your room. Who’s the actual whore here, Johnny?” And you let him have the small memory of that innocent kiss he gave you. Of that kiss that made him so happy you had reciprocated, only for that memory to be shattered, tainted. His glare turned murderous as he looked at you. 

You started feeling the areas he was grabbing you at become hotter and hotter. Your breathing became heavy in nervousness as your head turned to look at his hands which were becoming redder by the second. He laid back down and pushed his hips up, making you raise yourself a bit on your knees and before you could say something, he started slamming himself inside of you once more.

Your mind became mush in an instant, your moans choking up your voice as he hit your insides over and over again, the slapping of skin loud and quick. Your belly started turning, the elastic band about to snap as your hands dug into his chest. And then, you screamed as pain took you out of your pleasure palace.

The smell of burning filled the room, very slightly, faint, but still there. You looked down at where he was holding you, and his hands were now almost as red bright as metal against fire. He didn’t stop his pounding either, growling as he looked at you with his yellow irises, filled with flames.

“This is your reminder of who you betrayed. For you to remember me.” 

Tears fell down your cheeks as you felt the pain of your skin being burnt, of being branded by him, and then your climax hit you out of nowhere. You choked out a whimper, a cry of his name as your walls tightened around him, pulsating. His balls tightened with the need for his own release, and he cooled his hands once more but kept them in place on your body.

He groaned loudly at your tightness and he looked at how tears fell down your face as well as the drool that had pooled in the corner of your mouth. He cursed under his breath and slammed his hips upwards one more time, completely seething himself inside as his cum filled your insides and you felt the heat of it. You could feel it. 

He was breathing heavily as he lowered his hips, his hands keeping you in place so you wouldn’t lower on him. He hissed as he pulled out of you, his cum already dripping down from your hole, falling on the red tip of his cock. Your eyes looked down at his hands as they slowly parted from your skin, a squelching sound following after.

You were bleeding in some places, layers of your skin successfully burnt with his handprints. They were hurting you, they were very painful, and you… you couldn’t be mad at him for them. Your eyes connected to his as he lay there looking at his own hands, trembling at the sight.

Pieces of your burnt skin were stuck to his hands, on his palms. He lost control. He didn’t want to hurt you like this. You saw the guilt that displayed on his face and you raised your hand, wanting to touch him and tell him–

“Shit…” You winced before you could say anything else. He snapped out of his thoughts and sat up, pushing you to sit on the floor next to him. Without another word, he got up and you looked as he pulled his pants back up and buckled his belt once more. 

“I guess we’ll see each other again now that you’ve entered the headquarters.” He was asleep while you were there. He was sure you took something, and it was just a matter of time for you to strike the building or him. He walked towards the sliding doors, and you moved on your place, wanting to go after him, but the sharp pain of the burns made you stay put.

“Johnny… wait.” Your voice was choked, but he turned around to face you again. You felt the room becoming cooler, and you didn’t want it to be that temperature… but it had to do for now. “My name… I didn’t lie about my name.” 

His eyebrow twitched in confusion at that. Should he believe you? Should he trust you on that one? He didn’t know, he didn’t want to find out, he didn’t want to see you again, but he knew that one was inevitable. He turned away from you and you saw how his whole body turned into flames and flew out of the balcony, leaving you bruised, branded and alone.

In an empty, cold, room.

“It’s been a while since your last report, Chameleon.” 

The stupid nickname your boss gave you. You had the ability to infiltrate through people without being spotted. It wasn’t a superpower, just good hiding. 

“Got a little bit busy Boss.” Your voice was flat as you looked at how the man turned to look at you. So many people are afraid of this man, but there was something about Doctor Doom that just made you want to laugh.

“I hope that ‘bit busy’ was to get the information we need.” His voice was threatening, menacing as he looked at you through the screen. You gave him a sharp nod.

“Yes, I was planning my next encounter with Storm.” At your report, he gave a small nod of approval. You felt your bandages becoming sticky underneath your oversized sweater. It was about time to change them again, so you had to make this a quick call.

“I see. So, you still didn’t get into the headquarters then?” And you wanted to smile at his question. You wanted to show him how fucked he was, but you held yourself back because you had another plan in action, one that doesn’t include a boss.

“No sir. I require more time to create a bond with him.” He gave a small nod as his sharp tone filled the speakers.

“Get it done.” And the call ended abruptly.

You stared at the black screen, a smile appearing on your face as you slowly got up from the couch, walking towards the windows that were all blacked out. You pressed a button that was on the side and the windows returned to be transparent, showing the city lights in the night.

But what caught your attention was the orange gleam that was far away, still, floating, as if looking your way. You knew it was him. He has been waiting for you to turn the windows transparent once again. You had blacked out the apartment from his view for a whole week. You had refurbished it again, even hung up a real picture this time, the only one in the room.

One of you and him. One that you took at a picnic you had planned for the both of you. One that wasn’t part of the plan. Like the theater. Like the nights spent in this fake apartment. Like the drinks spent on a terrace. But he didn’t know that. 

And then you saw him fly away, making your heart plummet to the floor. You winced as you turned to walk towards your kitchen, ready to take care of your wounds. Of his markings. Of his handprints that will permanently stay on your skin. 

It was funny. First, you betrayed Johnny, and now you are betraying your boss, someone who might rip you apart the moment he finds out you’ve been lying. Yet, you are more scared of losing the only fire that made you feel alive after a long while. 

You’ll keep that flame alive. You have to. 

You’ll make sure it does.

end

a/n: um, yeah, the thot was the burning of clothes, like, how was i supposed to do that one with just like, a normal person with no superpowers... with a lighter? not sexy enough.

also, handprints.

ta-ta

[imsobadatnicknames2]

How can you consider yourself any sort of leftist when you defend AI art bullshit? You literally simp for AI techbros and have the gall to pretend you're against big corporations?? Get fucked

I don't "defend" AI art. I think a particular old post of mine that a lot of people tend to read in bad faith must be making the rounds again lmao.

Took me a good while to reply to this because you know what? I decided to make something positive out of this and use this as an opportunity to outline what I ACTUALLY believe about AI art. If anyone seeing this decides to read it in good or bad faith... Welp, your choice I guess.

I have several criticisms of the way the proliferation of AI art generators and LLMs is making a lot of things worse. Some of these are things I have voiced in the past, some of these are things I haven't until now:

Most image and text AI generators are fine-tuned to produce nothing but the most agreeable, generically pretty content slop, pretty much immediately squandering their potential to be used as genuinely interesting artistic tools with anything to offer in terms of a unique aesthetic experience (AI video still manages to look bizarre and interesting but it's getting there too)

In the entertainment industry and a lot of other fields, AI image generation is getting incorporated into production pipelines in ways that lead to the immiseration of working artists, being used to justify either lower wages or straight-up layoffs, and this is something that needs to be fought against. That's why I unconditionally supported the SAG-AFTRA strikes last year and will unconditionally support any collective action to address AI art as a concrete labor issue

In most fields where it's being integrated, AI art is vastly inferior to human artists in any use case where you need anything other than to make a superficially pretty picture really fast. If you need to do anything like ask for revisions or minor corrections, give very specific descriptions of how objects and people are interacting with each other, or just like. generate several pictures of the same thing and have them stay consistent with each other, you NEED human artists and it's preposterous to think they can be replaced by AI.

There is a lot of art on the internet that consists of the most generically pretty, cookie-cutter anime waifu-adjacent slop that has zero artistic or emotional value to either the people seeing it or the person churning it out, and while this certainly was A Thing before the advent of AI art generators, generative AI has made it extremely easy to become the kind of person who churns it out and floods online art spaces with it.

Similarly, LLMs make it extremely easy to generate massive volumes of texts, pages, articles, listicles and what have you that are generic vapid SEO-friendly pap at best and bizzarre nonsense misinformation at worst, drowning useful information in a sea of vapid noise and rendering internet searches increasingly useless.

The way LLMs are being incorporated into customer service and similar services not only, again, encourages further immiseration of customer service workers, but it's also completely useless for most customers.

A very annoyingly vocal part the population of AI art enthusiasts, fanatics and promoters do tend to talk about it in a way that directly or indirectly demeans the merit and skill of human artists and implies that they think of anyone who sees anything worthwile in the process of creation itself rather than the end product as stupid or deluded.

So you can probably tell by now that I don't hold AI art or writing in very high regard. However (and here's the part that'll get me called an AI techbro, or get people telling me that I'm just jealous of REAL artists because I lack the drive to create art of my own, or whatever else) I do have some criticisms of the way people have been responding to it, and have voiced such criticisms in the past.

I think a lot of the opposition to AI art has critstallized around unexamined gut reactions, whipping up a moral panic, and pressure to outwardly display an acceptable level of disdain for it. And in particular I think this climate has made a lot of people very prone to either uncritically entertain and adopt regressive ideas about Intellectual Propety, OR reveal previously held regressive ideas about Intellectual Property that are now suddenly more socially acceptable to express:

(I wanna preface this section by stating that I'm a staunch intellectual property abolitionist for the same reason I'm a private property abolitionist. If you think the existence of intellectual property is a good thing, a lot of my ideas about a lot of stuff are gonna be unpalatable to you. Not much I can do about it.)

A lot of people are suddenly throwing their support behind any proposal that promises stricter copyright regulations to combat AI art, when a lot of these also have the potential to severely udnermine fair use laws and fuck over a lot of independent artist for the benefit of big companies.

It was very worrying to see a lot of fanfic authors in particular clap for the George R R Martin OpenAI lawsuit because well... a lot of them don't realize that fanfic is a hobby that's in a position that's VERY legally precarious at best, that legally speaking using someone else's characters in your fanfic is as much of a violation of copyright law as straight up stealing entire passages, and that any regulation that can be used against the latter can be extended against the former.

Similarly, a lot of artists were cheering for the lawsuit against AI art models trained to mimic the style of specific artists. Which I agree is an extremely scummy thing to do (just like a human artist making a living from ripping off someone else's work is also extremely scummy), but I don't think every scummy act necessarily needs to be punishable by law, and some of them would in fact leave people worse off if they were. All this to say: If you are an artist, and ESPECIALLY a fan artist, trust me. You DON'T wanna live in a world where there's precedent for people's artstyles to be considered intellectual property in any legally enforceable way. I know you wanna hurt AI art people but this is one avenue that's not worth it.

Especially worrying to me as an indie musician has been to see people mention the strict copyright laws of the music industry as a positive thing that they wanna emulate. "this would never happen in the music industry because they value their artists copyright" idk maybe this is a the grass is greener type of situation but I'm telling you, you DON'T wanna live in a world where copyright law in the visual arts world works the way it does in the music industry. It's not worth it.

I've seen at least one person compare AI art model training to music sampling and say "there's a reason why they cracked down on sampling" as if the death of sampling due to stricter copyright laws was a good thing and not literally one of the worst things to happen in the history of music which nearly destroyed several primarily black music genres. Of course this is anecdotal because it's just One Guy I Saw Once, but you can see what I mean about how uncritical support for copyright law as a tool against AI can lead people to adopt increasingly regressive ideas about copyright.

Similarly, I've seen at least one person go "you know what? Collages should be considered art theft too, fuck you" over an argument where someone else compared AI art to collages. Again, same point as above.

Similarly, I take issue with the way a lot of people seem EXTREMELY personally invested in proving AI art is Not Real Art. I not only find this discussion unproductive, but also similarly dangerously prone to validating very reactionary ideas about The Nature Of Art that shouldn't really be entertained. Also it's a discussion rife with intellectual dishonesty and unevenly applied definition and standards.

When a lot of people present the argument of AI art not being art because the definition of art is this and that, they try to pretend that this is the definition of art the've always operated under and believed in, even when a lot of the time it's blatantly obvious that they're constructing their definition on the spot and deliberately trying to do so in such a way that it doesn't include AI art.

They never succeed at it, btw. I've seen several dozen different "AI art isn't art because art is [definition]". I've seen exactly zero of those where trying to seriously apply that definition in any context outside of trying to prove AI art isn't art doesn't end up in it accidentally excluding one or more non-AI artforms, usually reflecting the author's blindspots with regard to the different forms of artistic expression.

(However, this is moot because, again, these are rarely definitions that these people actually believe in or adhere to outside of trying to win "Is AI art real art?" discussions.)

Especially worrying when the definition they construct is built around stuff like Effort or Skill or Dedication or The Divine Human Spirit. You would not be happy about the kinds of art that have traditionally been excluded from Real Art using similar definitions.

Seriously when everyone was celebrating that the Catholic Church came out to say AI art isn't real art and sharing it as if it was validating and not Extremely Worrying that the arguments they'd been using against AI art sounded nearly identical to things TradCaths believe I was like. Well alright :T You can make all the "I never thought I'd die fighting side by side with a catholic" legolas and gimli memes you want, but it won't change the fact that the argument being made by the catholic church was a profoundly conservative one and nearly identical to arguments used to dismiss the artistic merit of certain forms of "degenerate" art and everyone was just uncritically sharing it, completely unconcerned with what kind of worldview they were lending validity to by sharing it.

Remember when the discourse about the Gay Sex cats pic was going on? One of the things I remember the most from that time was when someone went "Tell me a definition of art that excludes this picture without also excluding Fountain by Duchamp" and how just. Literally no one was able to do it. A LOT of people tried to argue some variation of "Well, Fountain is art and this image isn't because what turns fountain into art is Intent. Duchamp's choice to show a urinal at an art gallery as if it was art confers it an element of artistic intent that this image lacks" when like. Didn't by that same logic OP's choice to post the image on tumblr as if it was art also confer it artistic intent in the same way? Didn't that argument actually kinda end up accidentally validating the artistic status of every piece of AI art ever posted on social media? That moment it clicked for me that a lot of these definitions require applying certain concepts extremely selectively in order to make sense for the people using them.

A lot of people also try to argue it isn't Real Art based on the fact that most AI art is vapid but like. If being vapid definitionally excludes something from being art you're going to have to exclude a whooole lot of stuff along with it. AI art is vapid. A lot of art is too, I don't think this argument works either.

Like, look, I'm not really invested in trying to argue in favor of The Artistic Merits of AI art but I also find it extremely hard to ignore how trying to categorically define AI art as Not Real Art not only is unproductive but also requires either a) applying certain parts of your definition of art extremely selectively, b) constructing a definition of art so convoluted and full of weird caveats as to be functionally useless, or c) validating extremely reactionary conservative ideas about what Real Art is.

Some stray thoughts that don't fit any of the above sections.

I've occassionally seen people respond to AI art being used for shitposts like "A lot of people have affordable commissions, you could have paid someone like $30 to draw this for you instead of using the plagiarism algorithm and exploiting the work of real artists" and sorry but if you consider paying an artist a rate that amounts to like $5 for several hours of work a LESS exploitative alternative I think you've got something fucked up going on with your priorities.

Also it's kinda funny when people comment on the aforementioned shitposts with some variation of "see, the usage of AI art robs it of all humor because the thing that makes shitposts funny is when you consider the fact that someone would spend so much time and effort in something so stupid" because like. Yeah that is part of the humor SOMETIMES but also people share and laugh at low effort shitposts all the time. Again you're constructing a definition that you don't actually believe in anywhere outside of this type of conversations. Just say you don't like that it's AI art because you think it's morally wrong and stop being disingenuous.

So yeah, this is pretty much everything I believe about the topic.

I don't "defend" AI art, but my opposition to it is firmly rooted in my principles, and that means I refuse to uncritically accept any anti-AI art argument that goes against those same principles.

If you think not accepting and parroting every Anti-AI art argument I encounter because some of them are ideologically rooted in things I disagree with makes me indistinguishable from "AI techbros" you're working under a fucked up dichotomy.

[dominiquelucalover]

Center of Danger | Dominique Luca x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Your Tuesday plans are put on hold when you're caught in the middle of a bank robbery, but as if that didn't put a damper on your day, going into labor in the middle of it certainly did.

CW: fem!reader, pregnancy, labor, hostage situation, guns, death threats, death, blood, mild descriptions of violence, pre-established relationship. If any of these topics trigger you in any way, please do not read. Your wellbeing is so important.

A/N: I tried to make reader a behavioral analysis expert who works with S.W.A.T. but I don't know how well I incorporated that. ( not me trying to flex my Criminal Minds knowledge like a fucking nerd.) PS: I spent four straight hours writing this lol. and nother hour and a half proofreading and editing (and adding a whole 'nother fucking thing to the end of this jfc) (I'm having fun lol)

Your day had been going well. You went to one of your final doctors appointments before you were supposed to have the baby, you'd grabbed some of the last minute things on your baby list, and you were going over what you needed from the grocery store while you stood in line at the bank. It was one of those errands that you couldn't put off doing anymore, especially with the impending birth of your child, so it seemed easy enough to get out of the way today while you were already out and about. Unfortunately, a group of greedy, grubby-handed robbers decided to ruin those plans.

You couldn't lay on the ground like they wanted everyone to, which already irritated not only them but you too. The floor was uncomfortable as you sat against one of the desks while everyone else was forced to lay face down and not to move. It was a tense situation as the three robbers made the tellers fill their bags, one you wished would be over soon.

However, the robbers had already fucked up and got themselves stuck in the bank. A teller had sounded the silent alarm and in a fit of anger, one of the criminals shot the security officer dead. Another one freaked out because "no one was supposed to die" and seemed to be on the verge of tears, but it was hard to tell because they were all wearing plastic Halloween masks. This was turning out to be the worst bank robbery you had ever witnessed, not that you had ever actually witnessed a bank robbery but you had studied plenty.

"Shit, man! The cops are here!" one of the robbers all but growled. He turned his weapon on the tellers with a nasty glare from behind his ghoul mask. "Which one of you sounded the alarm, huh? Fucking idiots!"

He shot at the ceiling suddenly, causing people to scream. You jumped and held your belly protectively, taking a deep breath as you tried to stay calm. However, your blood pressure was already up and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. The baby was kicking, sensing your distress, and you rubbed your bump in an attempt to soothe them.

"Cool it!" another of the robbers chastised his buddy, seething with anger behind his devil mask. "You're gonna need those bullets. So chill the fuck out."

"I'll do as I damn-well please," the first one said, then walked away, seeming to look for another way out.

The freaked-out robber stayed out of the conversation, seeming more subservient to the other two. He just stood the to side, watching over the hostages like he'd been told to, hiding behind his clown mask. You knew from that if any of them were going to break first, it was him.

As things around you began to calm down, you leaned your head back on the desk and took even, deep breaths. Of course, the quiet couldn't last long.

A couple were whispering to each other a few feet away and as soon as the robber with the devil mask, who seemed to be the leader, caught wind of it, he stomped over and pointed his gun at the woman's head. "I said to keep quiet! You want me to blow her head off?"

"No, please! We'll be quiet!" the man begged.

"I should make sure you stay quiet for good," the leader said, teasing the trigger of his gun. The grin of his devil mask made the scene more unsettling.

At that moment, you felt a sharp pain in your belly and let out a heavy groan. All eyes turned to you and watched as you withered in your spot. You were caught between pain and confusion, hoping that you weren't going into labor. You weren't due for another three and a half weeks. Your baby couldn't come now, this was the worst-case scenario. Anywhere else but in the middle of a robbery would have been ideal.

The devil walked over to see what you were doing, letting out a frustrated groan. "Oh, for fuck's sake! Give me a break!"

You looked up at him as the contraction passed, irritated and not ready to give birth. You spat, "Sorry to ruin your parade!"

He pointed his gun at you but the clown ran over and pushed it down. "Dude, you can't shoot a pregnant lady!"

The leader looked at him, then walked away muttering under his breath about how this was going terribly and how the last thing he needed was a baby to mess it up further.

It was about that time one of the phones rang and he walked over to answer it, knowing it was the police outside. It was about time, but you thought that perhaps they needed a negotiator to show up, which was unfortunate for you. A few minutes earlier and you might not be in the early stages of labor right now.

"What do you want?" Devil asked brashly.

You couldn't hear who was on the other side of the call, sitting too far away. You watched closely, hoping your boyfriend was outside with his team. It would be the perfect fantasy if he came to your rescue; besides, they were the best S.W.A.T. team in LA. What were the chances that they weren't here?

The phone call only lasted about two minutes before the leader hung up having made no demands. He laughed, shaking his head. "They think I'm an idiot."

The ghoul came back into the room and grunted. "They've got the whole place surrounded! They probably have snipers ready to kill us if we walk outta here. What do we do?"

Devil thought for a moment, then gestured with his gun at the people laying on the floor. "Put them in front of the doors and windows. Use them as a shield. They won't shoot in here with hostages in the way and it'll give us time to think."

His accomplices nodded and started getting people up, guiding them with their guns to form a line around the center of the bank. The patrons followed orders dutifully and linked their arms together, their lives put further in danger by their captors.

The leader came over to you and grabbed your arm, but the clown came over and asked him what he was doing. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting her off her ass."

"She's pregnant, man," he said, his voice a little more confident than before. He didn't seem to like that you were there at all, but as soon as his bossy friend came near you, he jumped to your aid. "Just leave her alone."

"You questioning me?"

He seemed to think on his feet. "I'm just saying, if the cops know we got a pregnant lady in here, thye're gonna get more aggressive. They'll try harder to get in here. Think about it, man."

"Kid's got a point," Ghoul said, looking over. "She'll be our secret weapon."

Devil looked between them and shook his head, letting you go. "Fine, maybe you're right... this time. We'll see."

He walked away to make sure the wall of hostages was cooperating, looking out the glass doors and windows at the front of the bank to evaluate what his next move should be. He took slow, calculated steps, taunting the police and the hostages at the same time.

Another contraction hit you and you whimpered, holding your stomach and slightly curling up. The clown crouched down beside you, looking at you with wide eyes from behind his mask. He stuttered, "A-are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" you asked through clenched teeth. He looked down, almost ashamed for asking the question. You would feel bad if he wasn't hiding his identity and holding a large automatic gun on his back. Once the pain passed, you breathed out. "How old are you?"

"Doesn't matter," he answered.

"Sure it does. They called you kid," you told him, making him look up at you. "Means they don't respect you."

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head. He stood up and walked away, but looked back at you as he did. That was how you knew you did it. You planted that seed of doubt in his mind.

The next call came in not that long after, but Devil made one of the hostages answer the phone, a terrified older man who had been there to help his son open a bank account. He instructed the man on what to say, telling the officer on the other end that they wanted an armored car and a one way trip out of the country for the three of them, all within the next hour. It wasn't possible, you thought, which you were sure was what they were told before the hostage was made to hangup the phone with the promise that if their demands weren't met by that time, someone else was going to die.

The time seemed to pass sluggishly. You wouldn't have known it was going by at all were it not for the contractions picking up speed. You had read all your books about pregnancy and birth, so you knew that wasn't a great sign in this particular situation. Your labor seemed to be fast approaching, but you didn't want it to be. Were this in line with your birth plan, that would be ideal. However, a speedy birth was not on your agenda for the day.

"Tick-tock, tick-tock," Devil taunted as he walked the line of hostages again. He'd been pacing behind them to needlessly remind them of his presence. It was cruel and having to watch him was intense. "Five more minutes."

"What if they get us what we want?" Clown asked, looking at his friend.

The leader shook his head. "They won't get us what we want. They'll try to bribe us with less than what we asked for just to get us outside."

"So you're just gonna kill one?"

"Yup."

A woman in line cried out at hearing this and she was snapped at to shut up by the ghoul. He held a gun to her back and laughed at her terror as she tried to muffle her cries.

Clown watched, clutching his gun to his chest, before looking at Devil. "Wasn't killing the guard enough?"

"Not until we get out of here with the money and our lives," the leader answered, then shoved him. "Now shut up and do your job."

You watched as the 'kid' shook his head and walked away, listening to the devil without another question. Paying attention to everything else around you was the only thing keeping you from going insane from the pain. It was more persistent now and you felt the baby had moved lower. It was getting harder to keep your cool as all you wanted to do was yell and kick your feet at these guys who had forced you into early labor.

You were trying not to think about the time passing, watching Devil pace back and forth behind the line. He was looking at them, gun pointed at their backs. Then, suddenly, another sharp contraction shot through you and all you could do was scream as he shot a woman in the back.

She would have dropped to the floor were it not for the two people on either side of her whose arms were linked with hers. They were told to drop her as she cried and writhed. Then Devil went to stand over her, watching her squirm on the ground and bleed, before lifting his gun and shooting her in the head. Everything stopped and grew quiet except for your cries. They echoed off the high walls of the bank, violently reminding everyone there that life came with pain.

Sweat and tears slipped down your face as people were forced to listen to you until you quieted down. The contraction passed and you were slumped against the desk once more.

The devil turned to Clown and motioned toward you. "Go make sure she's alive."

"Okay," he said and walked over to you. He put his gun on his back and crouched beside you, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the sweat from your forehead. "You're, uh, you're getting closer to, um, having the baby, aren't you?"

You nodded, keeping your eyes forward, watching the way Devil made two hostages move the woman's body closer to the door. They were going to use her as a block in front of the door incase S.W.A.T. came running in, which made you sick to your stomach. You'd seen a lot of malicious shit, but that was a new low.

The phone rang, but no one moved to answer it. Then the devil chuckled.

"Get her on her feet," he said, looking over at you and the 'kid.'

Clown puffed up his chest. "She can't possibly-"

Devil got angry. "Don't question me! Just do it!"

Clown looked at you apologetically and put an arm around your back and hoisted you up. You cried out as you felt the baby shift lower. It was hard to walk, awkward really. But he held you up and guided you to the phone as it rang. Just as you reached the desk, it stopped, and you wanted to scream but managed to hold it in. You knew they would call back. They had to.

The clown leant you against the desk and brought its accompanying chair over to you. He helped you sit in it as his buddies scolded him, but he didn't argue back or justify his actions then. Only when you were seated did he turn to them and bark back.

"You're making a pregnant lady do all this shit when she's about to have a goddamn baby! What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled.

Devil got in his face. "I'm the one calling the shots around here! You do as I say, and if I want that fat bitch to answer the damn phone, she will, or she and that baby won't-"

"Oh, so you're gonna kill a lady and her baby?"

"Wait a minute!" Ghoul interrupted, looking at the devil, "Who died and put you in charge?"

"I've been in charge, numbnuts!"

The argument would have continued on from there, but the phone rang. They all looked at your tired face and waited for you to comply with what Devil wanted. So, you did.

"Hello," you said.

The voice on the other end of the phone made you feel some relief as he said your name. It was Hondo. "Is that you?"

You didn't answer immediately, not wanting to put the robbers on edge or clue them in to anything.

He seemed to understand. "If you are who I think you are, say 'where's the car?' if you're not, say 'please help us.' Okay?"

"Where's the car?" you asked, eyes trained on the robbers. Devil nodded at you, seeming to like that you were apparently smart enough to understand the situation at hand - you got right to the point of things and had been paying attention. Little did he know...

"We're gonna get you out of there, okay? We're working on it," Hondo told you.

"Well work on it faster," you told him, wincing in pain. You held your belly with your free hand. You kept your mouth shut about being in labor, knowing the robbers didn't want that detail known to anyone outside. "They've already killed someone else."

"We know, we saw," he said, letting out a regretful sigh. "But our eyes can only see in through the windows. The camera system is down. How many people are left inside with you?"

You looked around the room, trying to count the number of hostages, but it was harder to concentrate on something like that. "I don't know."

"What did he say?" Devil asked.

"They want to know how many people are alive."

Ghoul huffed. "Why does he want to know?"

"I don't know," you groaned, feeling another contraction rearing its ugly head. You did know, but there was no way you could strategize what the right thing to say to them was at that moment. "They-they probably- ahh!"

Hondo said your name several times, keeping his voice even. "Talk to me, mama. What's going on in there?"

Devil came over and seethed at you, "Tell him to get us what we want or we're gonna kill another person. Then hang up."

You spoke through the pain. "Get them what they want-"

"Are you in labor?" Hondo asked, hearing the strain in your voice.

"Or they're going to kill again," you said. "Please, please hurry."

Ghoul took the phone from your hand shook, slamming it into the holder. He watched you as you grabbed the arms of the chair, digging your nails into the hard wood. You scraped it and he shook his head. "Pregnant people are weird," he mumbled.

He and the devil moved on, talking to each other about what to do next. They began to argue about it but it was short lived as they parted ways. Ghoul slammed his fist on a desk and stomped away to try again at finding a plan-b escape. Devil leaned on a desk out of view of the windows, near you, and waited.

Clown stayed with you and talked you through the contraction. His voice wavered with fear and nervousness, seemingly never been in a situation like this before, as far as pregnancy went at the very least. Once it passed, he wiped your forehead again. "What-what's going to happen if you give birth in here?"

You looked at him, unsure yourself. "Well, there will be a baby in here and we'll both need immediate medical attention. If at that point they know about that, S.W.A.T. might just do anything to get in here."

Now that Hondo knew you were in here, there was more pressure on him to get inside and ensure your safety. You knew he wasn't going to tell Luca that you were one of the hostages because it would cloud his judgement, damned be the third generation S.W.A.T. officer that he was. His girlfriend and unborn child were in the center of danger and he'd do anything to get you out of there.

Clown got you water and helped you drink it as you continued to wallow in pain. As you sat there, you knew the situation was dire. You could see out some of the windows, seeing S.W.A.T. officers gearing up. You knew that sooner or later, they were going to come inside. You also saw an armored car pulling up, but it was a great distance away from the doors.

Ghoul came back, a little bit of a skip in his step. "They got our car! Let's go!"

"Wait!" Devil said, standing from his position and walking up behind the hostages. He took a man from them by putting his arm around his neck and pointing his gun into his side. They slowly made their way to the windows so he could peer out. He seethed. "They're trying to lure us out."

When he got back to the safe zone, the devil scratched his head, clearly deep in thought. He knew they were in deep, and with your timely reminders about the impending birth of your child, their odds of getting out of here was getting slimmer and slimmer.

"Wait for them to call," he said, turning to his friends. "We tell them we're going to take a hostage with us to ensure our escape."

"Dude, they got the fucking car, why do we gotta wait?" Ghoul asked.

"Because as soon as we step anywhere near those windows, they're gonna gun us down," Devil said, shoving him. "This is why I'm in charge, because you don't think!"

"I think better than you!" the ghoul yelled. "It was my idea to come here, remember?"

"And look at where that got us! You could of picked any other bank, but it had to be this big fancy one in the middle of town!"

"The cameras are out! They can't see in here, dimwit!"

You were about to yell at them to shut up when the phone rang. Devil looked at you and nodded. As you picked up the phone, Ghoul tried to continue the argument, but the devil shoved him away and told him to be quiet.

"Hello," you said.

Hondo sighed with relief at hearing your voice. "Say 'what do you want?' if you're okay. Say anything else if not."

"What do you want?" you asked.

"Tell the brothers we have their car ready for them," he said, which peaked your interest. You looked at the robbers in front of you and it clicked. Their arguing and dynamics made sense now.

They were brothers.

"Your car is ready," you told them.

Ghoul leaned against the desk in front of you. "Tell him we want it closer!"

Devil shoved him away again. "And that we're taking a hostage with us, so if they shoot at us, they'll be killing the next innocent person."

You took a deep breath and nodded. "They want the car closer so that they can get in with a hostage."

Hondo grunted. "Of course they'd try that trick. Listen to me, okay, we're not gonna let that happen. But tell them that we have to make room to move the car, so it'll be a minute."

"Okay," you said and sighed, rubbing your belly. You were in the last stretch of contraction. You could just feel it. "They have to make room for the car to get closer, so it'll be a few minutes before you can leave."

Devil didn't say anything, only took the phone from you and hung it up. "Get ready to get out of here, boys. Make the hostages take our bags to the door."

Then he walked away.

Ghoul took control of that mini mission, bossing two of the men in line to move and hustle to get their bags full of money to the door. They dropped them off and promptly got back in line, seeing the robber's finger ever-present on the trigger of his gun.

You were leaning forward on the desk, head laying on your arms as you whined and tried to breath deeply. You tried to hold your legs closed, preventing the progression of labor in anyway you could. You cursed having worn a dress today. You tried to think about anything else but where you where in that moment and what was happening. You tried to put yourself at home, in your baby's nursery that you and Luca had spent the last few weeks putting together and decorating. It helped distract you for a few minutes until more yelling broke the illusion.

Looking up, you saw Devil and Ghoul arguing about which hostage to take with them, which was the stupidest thing you had ever seen. It made you angry as you sat there, in labor, having to listen to this. Devil wanted to take you but Ghoul wanted to take anyone else. You were at your breaking point.

However, Clown snubbed out your lit fuse. He came with more water and helped you sit up so he could bring the cup to your lips. You sipped it, thankful that he was the kindest of the brothers. From what you had observed, he had to be the baby of the three and didn't want to hurt anyone there. He was there to rob a bank, not kill anyone, and each time you were in pain, he came to your side. He took care of you as much as he knew how. Something inside of him was redeemable, you thought so at least.

"They're both idiots," you whispered to him.

He hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah... I can't believe I agreed to do this. I should have never let them talk me into this."

You nodded. "Yeah, that's true."

He leaned against the desk, staying close to you as you both listened to the argument devolve, once more, into who is in charge. It was beginning to sound like they were a broken record, but as they continued the back and forth, you heard how similar their voices were, how similarly they spoke, and you could picture them as brothers more and more. It was in contrast to the 'kid', who seemed a little more mild mannered and quiet. He only spoke against the other two when he was passionate about whatever he was fighting them for, be it the lives of the people there or your wellbeing. It made you wonder how he was a part of this family.

Suddenly, everything came to a head.

"I told you to stop questioning me!" someone yelled, followed by a round of rapid pops from a gun.

You couldn't process anything for a moment, stomach tightening and making double over, leaning onto the desk again. You held your belly, screaming with the other scared people trapped with you. The moment passed quickly, but you couldn't look up.

"Bobby, what did you do?" Clown yelled.

The devil, Bobby, turned and criticized his kid brother. "Shut up! Don't say my name, you idiot!"

"But-"

"I said shut up!" he yelled and pointed the gun at him. "Now stop asking stupid questions or you're next."

You peeked up from your arm, seeing how far Devil had devolved. In the beginning, he was semi-organized (given how shittily the robbery was planned, there was at least some effort on his behalf), but the stress of the situation and his brother's mouth had finally snapped his last nerve.

Clown backed down and slowly sank to the ground beside your chair. Bobby began pacing again.

The phone range and you answered it.

"What's happening in there?" Hondo asked.

You could feel the devil's eyes on you. "You need to hurry."

"What happened?" he said again, fearing the worst.

You let out a breath. "Someone else is dead."

"Tell them we're going as fast as we can," he said.

You looked over at Bobby. "They're going as fast as they can. Please don't shoot anyone else."

"I'll shoot whoever I damn-well please," he said and took the phone from you, putting it to his ear. "You listen here, buddy. You don't tell me what to do, got it? Now, if that car isn't at the front door in five minutes, I'm killing everyone in here."

He slammed the phone into the holder before ripping it off of the desk and throwing it across the room. He stomped off, going back to his look out position from behind the line of people. He watched the doors impatiently, seemingly unbothered by the crying people before him. Their anguish brought him no joy, unlike his now-dead brother, as it was obvious that the people were merely pawns in his game. He didn't care about them whatsoever.

You laid your head down and whispered, "He's gonna kill you."

Clown made a worried noise in the back of his throat. "No-no he won't. He-he's my brother..."

"You blew his cover. Everyone here knows his name and it won't be hard to track down a Bobby in an armored car," you said, pausing to moan and shift your seated position. You couldn't hold your legs together anymore, knowing it was dangerous. It was a feeble attempt anyway. "He's already angry and you're the only one left brave enough to stand up to him."

He whined. "I-I'm really not."

"Yeah, you are," you told him, hoping to break through to him. "You've protected me from him this whole time. That took a lot of courage, I know it did."

"But... he's my brother... The only family I have left now," he said.

You looked at him, meeting his sad eyes past the mask. "Family wouldn't put you in this position."

He stared into your eyes for a moment, then looked away in contemplation. He didn't say anything for a moment, which felt like an eternity, and then he looked at you again. "What's your name?"

"Why does it matter now?" you asked.

"Because if I'm gonna die, I'd like to know the name of the lady I protected," he said.

You didn't understand what that meant, it could mean many things, and as you felt the pain getting worse, you couldn't think very well anyway. You told him your name between heavy breathes.

He gently wiped your forehead again, talking you through the pain. Then he took off his mask, revealing his face to you, and you were saddened to see how young he was. There was no doubt he was in his early twenties but he still had a baby face and the biggest eyes you'd ever seen a man have, giving him a deer in the headlights look.

"I'm Eric."

Then he stood up and moved away from you, walking over to another desk quietly. He moved out of your sight and you couldn't move much anymore, too tired to do much of anything as it were. Despite the situation, all you wanted to do was get this over with.

Then, there was a loud thud from where Eric had disappeared to.

Bobby turned around and marched over to you. "What the hell are you doing?"

You groaned, looking up at him. "Nothing."

He seethed again, "I've about had enough of you and you're whining."

"I'm about to push a watermelon out of me, what do you want from me?"

"I want you to shut u-" BANG!

He fell to the ground in front of you, his blood splattering on the desk. Looking over, Eric had his gun trained on his brother from behind the desk a few feet away, eerily still, like he was trained for this. It made your heart ache because your stomach was already twisted. What kind of life had this kid had that led him and his brothers to this?

As he walked over to you, he yelled at the other hostages, "Go! Get out of here! Go! Get out!" They listened without hesitance and ran screaming and crying for the door.

He crouched down beside his brother's body and took the gun off of him, sliding it across the floor. He then took his own gun and push it to follow. Then he turned to you, "Are you okay?"

You nodded. "More or less."

Eric couldn't say another word before S.W.A.T. came into the bank with guns at the ready. They aimed at him and he put his arms up, already on his knees. You screamed in pain and he turned to look at you, making Hondo yell at him to stay still, but he didn't seem to hear him. If he did, he didn't listen and reached out to you.

He took your hand and let you squeeze it as the pain made you sob.

You managed to cry out, "He's unarmed!"

The team got closer and saw the truth in your words. They pulled his hand from yours despite your tight grip and handcuffed him, getting him onto his feet. While Chris and Street patted him down, Luca and Hondo came to your side.

"Fucking hell, I could kill this guy for all this," Luca grunted, clearly angry. He took your hand into his.

You shook your head. "He's a hero, believe me."

"How is he-?" Hondo asked, but was cut off by your guttural scream.

Deacon shook his head as he watched. "We need to get her out of here. Now."

The paramedics came in with their gurneys and attended to the bodies on the floor, but by the time it was decerned that they were beyond saving, everyone was busy and there was no room for you anywhere. Luca picked you up and carried you outside in hopes of finding an ambulance to take you to the nearest hospital, but they were all tending to the injured who had run outside earlier.

Tan opened up the back doors of Black Betty and called out to Luca, ushering the team over. Street helped get you inside while Tan and Chris ran to the side doors to get in. Once you were laying on the floor, Luca behind you and holding you close, everyone else piled in and closed everything up, turning on the lights and sirens.

You were screaming the whole time, crying as it became too much. Your body was telling you to push and that was all you could think about doing. Luca was trying to soothe you, telling you that you would be at the hospital soon and that it would be okay. But your baby had other ideas, they had waited long enough.

"The baby's coming!" you cried out.

"We know, we're gonna-"

"No! Now! The baby's coming right now!"

You let out another scream as you pushed. Deacon slide onto the floor and pulled your legs up onto the seats on either side of you, pushing your dress away. He ripped your underwear to get a look at how things were progressing and then looked up at Luca, Street, and Hondo, "She's right. She's crowning."

Hondo called out to the front, "Tan, pull over!"

Luca held your hands as you rested you head back against his abdomen, crying as your body guided you. Everything you'd read and come to understand was nothing compared to the way your body told you what to do.

Black Betty came to a stop on the side of the road, but it only took three more powerful pushes that the ended the pressure. You ached, but the pain was lessened dramatically. You opened your eyes to see Deacon picking up your baby, who was a little chubby for a newborn and rather long, aka big like their daddy.

Deacon gently held them and patted their back, getting them to cry and clear their airways. He smiled at them and happily said, "Welcome to the world, Baby Luca."

Street rummaged around for anything to wrap the baby in, only for Chris to pass a fresh shirt to him from the front. He thanked her and helped Deacon wrap your little angel up to keep warm before they were laid on your chest. You took her, Luca's arm coming under yours to support you both.

"It's a girl," Deacon told you and you smiled. He smiled too, knowing that joy and pride well. "Congratulations."

Tan put Black Betty in gear and let everyone know he was going to start driving again, as you and your daughter needed to be taken to the hospital. After that, no one said anything. They just let you and Luca have your moment with your daughter.

Luca couldn't even speak. He had spent the day tirelessly trying to save hostages from a bad situation that only got worse as the minutes passed by, only to learn from Hondo that you were one of them minutes before they stormed in there. He ran to you as soon as he could and wanted to burn the robbers to the ground with how angry he was because you were caught in the middle of their idiocy. Then, as soon as he saw you were in labor, he was scared, too. However, now, all that stress and anger and fear was erased. You were safe in his arms with your daughter. He had a daughter! He was nothing my happy.

Street inevitably ruined the precious moment, but lightened it at the same time as he broke the silence. "I can't believe you gave birth in Black Betty."

The team didn't react until you laughed, which let them know they could laugh too.

"I'm just glad it wasn't in the bank," you said, the ache still in your heart for the people who were lost and the kid brother who had saved you. You looked at Hondo as you remembered him. "I wanna be there for Eric. He really did save those of us that he could."

Hondo didn't question you, because you were tired and hormonal and he knew you knew what you were talking about. He just nodded and said, "I'll talk to the DA, but for now, you just worry about that cutiepie you got, okay?"

"Okay," you said.

When you got to the hospital, you were taken to a room immediately. Not only because you were wheeled in with a baby in your arms, but because you had a team of S.W.A.T. officers escorting you. Luca went back with you and ensured you and your baby daughter were okay.

Despite being three and a half weeks early, she was healthy. She would need to stay a few extra days for observation, but that was okay with you. Both you and Luca wanted the best for her, so you knew she might need a little extra watching over because of her early arrival and the stress you were under, and you needed to recover as well. It would work out, you were sure.

Once that was cleared up, Luca sat beside you with your daughter asleep in her basinet at your bedside. He watched her with nothing but love in his eyes. He'd only been talking about how excited he was for her to 'hurry up and get here' in the months leading up to this moment. He hadn't cared if she were a boy or a girl, as you'd left finding out to be a surprise at the birth, because he was going to love his kid no matter what. You knew he was going to be an amazing father.

You watched him, tired as all hell, but couldn't fall asleep. Even after the day you'd had, you laid awake on some pain killers with a soft smile on your lips. "I love you."

Luca turned to you and chuckled. "I love you, too." He reached out for your hand and squeezed it gently. "You are the most amazing woman I've ever met, you know that?"

"You only tell me that at least once a day," you laughed softly, careful not to wake your sleeping angel.

"Well, I mean it so much this time," he told you, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. "You're so strong and smart and brave. What you went through today was a lot and you powered through it like a champ. And you see the good in people even in situations when it's hard to see anything but bad."

"What can I say?" you asked, not really sure what there was to say. You just read the situation like it was. And it helped you and several other people get through it. "I'm just a woman."

"Nah, you're more than that," he said and leaned in closer, kissing your head. Your eyes closed and this time they were too heavy to lift back open. "You're Superwoman."

"If you say so," you mumbled. You then fell into a dreamless sleep, getting the much needed rest your deserved.

Lowkey, I'm now attached to the backstory I accidentally gave Bobby, Ghoul, and Eric, so here it is if anyone cares. Bobby, Ghoul - who's real name is Terry, and Eric were born in a less than ideal home. Raised by a worked to the bone mother and a father who had lengthy arrest record, they were doomed from the start. Bobby and Terry were closer in age to each other than either of them were to Eric, often getting into trouble and leaving him out. When they weren't getting suspended from school, they were pushing Eric around metaphorically and literally. They would often use Eric as a punching bag when they weren't getting into fights with each other. They mother wasn't around a lot as she worked multiple jobs to keep a roof over their heads. When she was around, she was frustrated and tired, often getting angry at them for little problems like leaving their shoes out for her to trip over and bigger issues like getting kicked out of school. Their father was in and out of jail for most of their lives, but when he was around, he taught them how to shoot, steal, and hot wire cars. Averse to these activities, Eric was once again the odd one out and often the target of his brothers' criticism. Their father often got drunk and ranted to his sons about his drawbacks in life, often blaming others. Due to this unstable environment, it was no wonder the brothers turned out the way they did. Bobby followed in their father's footsteps, often helping their old man with his criminal endeavors when he could. After their father's untimely death at the hands of a homeowner protecting himself after he broke into the house, Bobby was angry. He went on a bend of drinking and crime, ending him up in jail where he made friends. Once he was out, he started robbing houses and small business. Terry at least finished high school and got a job as a mechanic, which was stable enough for a while. He started to doing shotty work for cheap and got fired once his boss found out. He did a number of odd jobs after that. Eric was on the right track but couldn't catch a break. With a grant, he was able to start college but had to leave after his mother became ill. He was almost done with college when he dropped out to take care of her, but it was fruitless. He didn't blame his mom but rather the bad hand life had dealt him, but didn't grow very bitter. He got a shitty job and went about his life. However, their mother's death is what brought the brothers back together. It was several months after the funeral that Bobby came around with the idea to rob a bank. Terry was crashing on Eric's couch at the time and liked the idea, immediately liking the idea of free money and getting to go anywhere they wanted. The two oldest brothers talked Eric into it, telling him they could go live their dream lives and get out of the shambles they called a life. Plus, they were brothers, the only family he had left, was he really gonna left them do it alone?

And yeah, that's what I got for the bank robbing brothers. If it doesn't make any sense, I came up with all of this over the span of 8 hours and little to no sleep.

[flippinpancakes64]

Could you write the Cullen's accidentally hurting their SO and how they would react?? (I alr know Jasper's is about to be so angsty lol)

The Cullens accidentally hurting their S/O

I've literally been rubbing my hands together like an evil villain waiting to do this request. I saw it in my inbox and had to hold myself back lol. And yes, I cannot resist the temptation to make Jasper suffer, so be prepared

Edit I got so carried away. If I had a word count on these it might be like 10k lol sorry not sorry

And thank you for this request! This was so much fun to write lol I hope you enjoy it!

Also quick note I might have channeled a bit too much inspiration from Saw or something cause I ended up getting a bit too into my descriptions of the injuries so

TW for graphic depictions of violence

Edward:

You really wanted to go to this concert

Edward knew that, so as a birthday gift he bought you two tickets

One for you and one for him of course

He drove you to the stadium, studying the songs he was going to be hearing later that night

He bought everything that you looked at

You basically had your own merch table

The night was going great

You both found your seats, you were happily eating some overpriced stadium food, and the show was about to start

When a guy stood directly in front of you

The bad part about floor seats is that there aren't seats

The guy was easily 6'6, towering above you even if you are taller

Reading your thoughts, Edward tapped the guy on the shoulder, asking him if he would kindly move or crouch or something

He just looked, rolled his eyes, and stared forward again

"Dude, my partner can't see the show. Please just move a little"

"Don't care. Not my problem."

Edward's getting pissed, and the guy can tell

"What, you wanna fucking fight? Square up rich boy."

"No I don't want to fight I just want you to move a little"

"Okay, then maybe your partner here will fight instead"

And the next thing you know, you see the guy's huge fist heading straight for your head

Before it can land, Edward's hand pushes on your chest, sending you back into the people behind you and ending with you flat on the ground

Your back aches from the impact, your neck torqued from where your head whipped, and your cheek stinging from landing on the side of your face

You feel Edward's chill hands on the sides of your face, and faintly you hear him ask something frantically

You groan in pain as you feel him pick you up, and finally succumb to sleep

You wake up in Carlisle's clinic, staring at the white ceiling

A cold hand is wrapped around yours, and when you turn your head, you're greeted with bright gold eyes

No words are exchanged for a moment before you clear your throat

"So... did you at least rock that guy's shit?"

He laughs and kisses you

Alice:

Alice was having a terrible week

She had been getting vision after vision, and none of them were true

Everything from a huge motor accident to what color shoes someone at school was going to wear

It was constant

She was running in circles, going somewhere, seeing a vision, turning around to go somewhere else, seeing a vision, turning again, and on and on

She was currently driving

Or more like swerving

All you needed were some damn glue sticks for a project you needed to do

But every time Alice decided on a new destination, a vision of a horrible catastrophe would enter her mind, and she would change her course

You had enough

"Alice! Enough of this! Just pull over and let me drive!"

"No! I need to know the safest route... ugh! Everywhere is dangerous!"

"Name one vision you've had in the past week that actually came true."

"Well I don't know if they would have come true or not because I didn't go to those places. And look! We are perfectly fine! Everyone is fine!"

"But I don't have all night, Alice! Just choose a fucking store and go there!"

"Fine."

And so she did. She chose the small supermarket right outside of town

She looked nervous as soon as she placed the car in park

But you ignored it and walked in

You walked through the aisles, looking for the one thing you came here for, when you hear Alice gasp behind you

In her mind, she sees you tripping and falling into a display of DVDs, cutting your arm on one of the metal frames holding them in place

And straight in your path is the DVD case

So naturally she tries to grab you

Only she doesn't grab you, she accidentally pushes

You don't fall in her vision, just like how you didn't fall in real life

She was the one who hurt you, pushed you

That was the problem

The reason why there was a horrible disaster everywhere she tried to go was because she was going to cause something one way or another

Only this is worse, because now it involves you

The DVDs scatter, and she hears your cry of pain as the sharp, crooked metal frame pierces the skin of your arm

She is by your side in a moment, scooping you up and not even bothering with the mess you both left behind

On the way home, you are trying to convince her that it's not that bad, but she is beside herself

After Carlisle's inspection, you get a couple of stitches in your right bicep, but other than that you're perfectly fine

And Alice doesn't leave your side

She is constantly fussing

Asking if you're okay, if you need anything, if you're mad at her, if you want to leave her, if you blame her

But after you go to sleep and she watches over your peaceful form, she convinces herself that you're alright

Jasper:

It was spring break and the Cullens decided to go to one of Carlisle's many tropical properties

It was the third day of the trip, everybody went to do their own things

Alice, Esme, and Rosalie went into town to go souvenir shopping

They dragged Emmett along to be their personal bag carrier

Edward and Bella were down at the private beach that came with the property, enjoying the sun and relaxing

That left you, Jasper, and Carlisle

The three of you were at the attached pool on the house

Carlisle was marinating in the hot tub, sunglasses on and a book in his hands

You and Jasper were in the pool doing anything and everything

Diving, jumping, swimming, racing (he always won), and messing with the pool toys

You had just climbed up the stairs to get out of the pool again, intending on showing Jasper your graceful canonball

But he noticed you were walking a bit too fast

He saw you trip, and like slow motion he sprang out of the water to save you

Only he didn't

His arms wrapped around your middle, saving you from a possible twisted ankle or scraped knee or bruised butt

But that didn't stop the back of your head from smacking onto the concrete

White hot pain erupted behind your eyes and knocked you out instantly

Your blood began to seep onto the wet floor beneath you, and he couldn't help himself

Carlisle heard everything and got up immediately

But he didn't get there in time to stop Jasper from wrapping his mouth around your throat and biting down

In a flash Carlisle threw Jasper up and off of you, rocketing him into the water, and scooped you up to run inside

You awoke some hours later, a throbbing in your head and a dull pain in your neck

The beep of a heart monitor was all you heard

Looking around, you were in the room you shared with Jasper, where just the night before you wrapped around his cold body and drifted to sleep

Only he was nowhere to be seen

Carlisle came to check on you, and he told you what happened

"Where is he? Where's Jasper?"

"... He... left."

"What do you mean he left?"

"He almost killed you. He would have killed you if I wasn't there. He feels terrible- no. Terrible isn't strong enough of a word."

It takes Emmett and Edward tracking him down and dragging him home for you to see him again

And even then he insists on Edward and Emmett holding his arms in case he were to try anything

He looks so broken

Muted red eyes, golden blonde hair shooting in every direction, the same swim trunks he had been wearing that day were covered in dirt and blood- presumably yours

And his face

He looked on the verge of tears, he would have been crying if he could

If the dry heaves coming from deep in his chest were any indication

He flinches when you take his face in your hands, trying to get away, not wanting to hurt you more

But when he kisses you, he remembers why he tries so hard to be good in the first place

Rosalie:

You had been asking Rosalie for WEEKS if she would pleeeeeeease take you hunting with her

And she had been turning you down for weeks

It's a very gross, animalistic process that she, quite frankly, doesn't want you to see

But she loves you

And she is only so strong

So after so many begs, pleads, and puppy dog eyes, she caves

She decides to make it a cute little weekend trip

Taking you to one of Carlisle's properties farther north into the snowy mountain region

You settle in to the spacious cabin and Rosalie makes sure you're all bundled up in luxurious furs and warm scarves before you both venture into the wilderness

She explains what she's doing step-by-step while she sniffs the air, searching for her prey

A wolf because she's part of the "Fuck Jacob" team

She sits you in a clearing and tells you to stay in place while she finds her wolf

You do, finding a snowy log and brushing it off to sit on

She ventures into the forest, eventually finding a suitable wolf and beginning her hunt

Chasing the wolf, being chased by the wolf, until she eventually leads it to your clearing

She knows you'll love the theatrics of seeing her kill it in live action

She chases the beast all the way until it's about to clear the tree line before she pounces

She can imagine herself from your point of view

Bright, shiny skin, flowing hair, posed in midair, and finally coming down gracefully upon her prize

Except she doesn't

The wolf takes a quick turn at the last moment, sending her flying straight into you

There's not much she can do while suspended in flight, and it happens too fast for you to recognize

In an instant her whole body slams into you at full force, knocking both of you onto the powdery ground below

The grunt of pain you let out is excruciating

She rolls off of you quickly, holding onto you, asking if you're okay, if you're hurt

You try to put on a brave face, but when you move your left arm in an attempt to prop yourself up, you find you can't move it

Broken. Completely snapped. And you scream

She paces in Carlisle's home clinic while he puts your cast on, worried out of her mind

But when Carlisle opens the door and she sees you sitting on the table with a goofy grin and a bright red cast, she can't help but relax

"You said red was your favorite color, right?"

And she just kisses you

Emmett:

You'd been dating Emmett for a while now, and had decided it was time for him to meet your family

And what better time and place for a first meeting than your nephew's fourth birthday party?

It was the middle of August, and the sun was hot

The icing was melting off of the cake as it sat on the food table

All of the adults were drinking margaritas and the kids had decided to play with the water balloons to cool off

Your uncle and Emmett were filling up the balloons as all of the kids at the party talked excitedly

You laughed as your nephew came up to you and asked you to be on his team for the fight

Of course you couldn't say no

And of course, to even the playing field, the other team got to have your human tank of a boyfriend

Very even

Emmett just smirked at you as your uncle assumed his place as the referee and commenced the battle

Pink, blue, green, yellow, and red balloons were flying like crazy

Small party hats were knocked off of even smaller heads

The giggles of 20 little kids rang loud in the air as water spurted all over the grassy lawn

And you took your chance to pelt your boyfriend as hard as you could

His light blue shirt was soaked, and his khaki shorts had a huge wet spot on the front

You were doubled over in laughter at the sight of your scary boyfriend covered in little pieces of rubber, with one particularly large piece hanging off of his ear

But he hadn't thrown any at you yet

"Come on, big guy! Don't be a wussy!"

"Oh you asked for it now!"

You saw him grab a little pink water balloon, it looking even smaller in his hand, and he threw it straight at your head

You briefly wonder if he filled his balloon with cement

The next thing you know you're laying in bed, an ice pack perched on your forehead

"Oh my god, you're awake. I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to, you know how I get out of control sometimes. Not that that's an excuse! I'm just trying to explain-"

You cut him off with a finger to his lips

"Shush... .'m tired"

And so he just lets you sleep the rest of the night, his hand in yours the whole time

Esme:

Frankly, she doesn't know why you asked for her help

The Cullens had just moved into their newest house, and everything was set for the "kids" to join the local highschool the next day

You wanted a new look

"New place, new people, new me" you had said

She understood that much

But when you approached her one night with a box of hair bleach and a pleading look on your face, she was lost

Why her? Why not Alice or Rosalie? Or- and hear me out- a professional? They had the money

But you wanted to do it yourself. But not actually yourself For some reason you wanted Esme to do it

And even though she didn't understand, she still agreed

So that's how she found herself closely studying the instructions on the back of the little box telling her what to mix and where

"What's taking so long?"

"Hold on... ugh! This thing doesn't make any sense!"

"It's okay I'm sure it's super simple. I mean they give you all of the stuff. Just mix it all together and slap it on my head!"

Bad idea

She mixes everything together just like you asked, and plops a big lump of it onto the crown of your head

Instantly your hair starts smoking

You scream, asking her to take it off

And she tries, but it's not working

Carlisle to the rescue once more

She is so apologetic

She feels so bad that she hurt you so much

And at least you did get that new look you wanted

Shaved-to-the-skin bald

Carlisle:

He was feeling a bit cooped up

He loves his family, and he loves his life in the Americas, but sometimes he misses traveling and his old friends

So he decided to take you with him to Europe to see some old pals

Not the Volturi obviously

But some other acquaintances he hadn't seen for a while

You were a month into the three-month trip Carlisle had planned

You'd visited Italy, Greece, Spain, France, Britain, and were on your way to Germany

This next friend you were on your way to visit was a man named Friedrich Hans

Carlisle spoke passively about him, nothing positive or negative

He was one of the ones he hadn't been able to contact beforehand about visiting

He wasn't even sure if Friedrich was still alive, or if he even lived in Germany

He wasn't betting on either, but he still figured he would try a visit

The taxi pulled up in front of an unassuming house on a busy street in Berlin, painted a light grey with black paneling around the windows and doors

Carlisle opened your door for you, extending a hand to help you out

He walked with you to the door, rapping his knuckles against the solid wood

Instantly it creaked open and a voice inside whispered "Perfect" before a pale, veiny hand reached out and grabbed your arm

You yelled for it to let you go, begging Carlisle for some help

He grabbed you around the waist with one arm, using the other to try to pry the man's hand from your wrist

The opposing forces splintered on your bones and a sickening crack ran through your arm

Your hand fell limp and Carlisle was finally able to pry you away from the force in the house

"Ah... Carlisle... old friend"

"Old friend? You just tried to kill my S/O!"

"S/O... you always were a weird one Mr. Cullen... sincerest apologies... come in for chat?"

"No thank you, I believe we will be taking our leave now."

And with that he rushed you to the nearest hospital

He didn't have his medical equipment, so he just pretended to not know German so they wouldn't ask questions about how you broke your wrist

He cuts the trip short then and there

He sends letters to all of his friends that he wasn't able to visit, explaining that something urgent came up

He is so apologetic for the weeks afterward

He is convinced it was his fault even though it wasn't

He doesn't relax until your cast is off btw

Vampire! Bella:

Since she's so new to the vampire life, she doesn't know her own limits yet

She has hurt you a lot in the past

All accidents of course

Hugging you too hard, punching you playfully on the shoulder, telling you to catch something and literally lobbing it as hard as she can

She always feels terrible afterwards

But the worst was the time you took her bowling

It was 10 am on a Tuesday and there was no one at the bowling alley

Not even the competitive grandmas and grandpas in their bowling leagues

The only other person in the building was the bored looking cashier who wasn't even trying to hide that he was on his phone behind the counter

You both took your time to pick your balls, trying out all of the ones on the rack to see your best fits

You laced up your ugly shoes, input your names on the scoreboard screen and off you went

It was fun for the first couple of turns

Until the ball return does that stupid thing where it doesn't actually return your ball

It's your turn, and you're standing at the ball return tapping your foot restlessly waiting for it to show up

"You know, you can just use mine"

Bella stands up and grabs the ball she chose

The resin was a beautiful mix of black, purple, and pink with some reflective glitter sprinkled throughout

It's so gorgeous that you don't even check the weight

You hold out your hands to take it and it just drops straight through

And directly onto your foot

You let out a loud scream and try to move, but the ball won't roll off of your foot

Bella starts panicking, asking what she should do, scrambling around until eventually she picks up the ball and throws it onto the ground behind her

Maybe she forgot that the cashier was there, or maybe she didn't care, but she picked you up and started sprinting at full speed back to the Cullen house

She even left the car at the alley smh

On the verge of inconsolable

She is so frustrated that she can't learn to control herself

Doesn't leave your side tho

Note: Just for shits and gigs I timed how long this took me

Started at 12:01 am

Jasper done at 12:21 am

Edward done at 12:40 am

Alice done at 12:56 am

Rosalie done at 1:19 am

Emmett done at 1:33 am

Esme done at 1:44 am

Carlisle done at 2:03 am

Bella done at 2:16 am

Total time 2 hrs 15 mins

[hellsslibrary]

Sorry, I love your content...

Could you write headcanons about Chigiri sending Dom!male!reader nude pictures that he? I can imagine it working up to them screwing everytime~

The most beautiful photos are taken with love... Or lust. But with obviously good thoughts in mind.

MASTERLIST is here.

#a.n. : YES. He is such a model, I swear. Have you ever seen an ugly Chigiri? That's right, you wouldn't even dream of such a thing in your nightmares.

!!Warnings: top!dom!male!reader (although everyone can read, the reader just has a boner, but the reader has no pronouns and no interactions with the boner either, Lol), sub!bratty!Chigiri, photo description mentioning sex toys and various clothes, mentioning video and voice messages (erotic), Chigiri the devil in the flesh, otherwise everything is cool.

What can I say? He would.

I think he generally likes to take pictures. It doesn't matter what. Landscapes, other people, animals on the street, you, some random stuff... And himself, of course.

Most of them are just photos with some new hairstyle that he invented himself or looked on the Internet. Or maybe in some clothes that he found attractive. But he has one folder in his phone that is closed...

There are some personal photos in this folder, of course. Starting from any ordinary topless photos, ending with the ones that he definitely would not want anyone else to see.

It's just a photo of him standing naked in front of a mirror. Some erotic photos in your clothes. A photo where he hides behind something so as not to show the sweetest. Maybe some photos with sex toys inside him, on him, in his hands... Or maybe there are pictures in slightly feminine clothes that he would never have worn if you hadn't literally given him one of them one day, and then another and another.

And fuck, he's good. Divinely good. He could have been a model and a photographer all rolled into one, and he would have succeeded. The light falls perfectly on each of his photos, he stands in just the perfect pose, and everything else looks perfect too, even if he didn't really think about it.

He just can't turn out badly in the photo. And he uses it brazenly.

And he sends these photos to you at any moment, which is why you've learned to always look at photos from Chigiri while hiding your phone screen, buddy.

Chigiri would absolutely not be shy about any of your reactions, really. It doesn't matter if you would have reacted embarrassingly, joyfully, or completely depraved. The main thing is that you like it.

He would even tease you.

He would send you some photos, like these arts "take off his pants/shirt/etc" on Twitter for likes. Maybe he would send you a video where he would make sure that his hands were moving over your favorite places on his body... If he's feeling too teasing today, he might even send you a voicemail.

There won't be anything too surprising or completely enticing about this voicemail. He just knows exactly what words to use and how. And if you don't have a boner from the photo? Definitely from his whisper. (This man can even whisper a advanced mathematical analysis to me, I'll just thank him)

And he won't finish until he's sure you're horny and at least a little desperate wherever you are. Until he is convinced that you will come and see with your own eyes what he looks like and what he does.

Well, the only exception is if you are in another country or city, but there are video calls, of course.

But it always leads to sex. Now that these images are literally imprinted in your brain, you just can't come alone, no matter how much you want to. It won't be what you want.

And not what he wants.

So he always acts innocent when you visit him, even if he sees an overly obvious boner in your pants.

And he continues to behave innocently every fucking time, as if he doesn't realize that such photos turn you on to hell. It was like he was sending a selfie, not a photo of his ass in the mirror.

And he definitely likes that you get more impatient with it. Maybe even more so, depending on your character. It doesn't matter if he likes that some of your traits stand out more and more.

I think he likes slower sex, but at times like this? He just wants you to fuck him to death for all the photos and everything else he could send you. And he will still tease you until you have no strength left or he has...

After the act, you hear a quiet "I won't do it again" while he yawns and settles on your chest after a shower. But really? This will happen again in about a week, a maximum of a month.

I want him to sit on my face ☹️ WHO SAID THIS.

[linedbycaro]

୨⎯ 𝐫𝐞𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 ⎯୧

These are my fic recs :) I will put them under categories as i read more. Currently I've been consuming almost exclusively Pazzi (hehe)

𝚸𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢 💗

Everything- and I mean everything- by @hcneymooners (like even including her non Pazzi works). While she writes in a way that is so distinctly Paige and Azzi, she takes the characters as we know them and molds them into figures that reflect our own real, brutal struggles and internal conflicts. Each one of her stories makes a point or reflects a theme that goes way beyond fan fiction. Her work is so uniquely, vividly descriptive — so deep and intimate and tangible — dark and light at the same time. She writes with a maturity earned not just from talent (which she has plenty of), but also from experience, hard work, and passion.

I began reading @bucketsorbueckers for her work No Hard Feelings. It was incredible. So then I started her ongoing second work, Wishing you the best (In the worst way)- which is just INSANE. And THEN, while waiting for her to finish WYTB, I began reading her latest work, Trouble, and let me tell you: I'm floored. I haven't been this entertained, this captivated, in a long time. She's insane. She's a flirt. She knows how to write tension right. Her IQ? Off the charts. And she's funny as fuck- like Azzi Fudd level funny. And apparently she's machine because she's been cranking out chapters like nobody's business. It's fun over on her page, a great sense of community, truly.

@azzibueckers5 's two part Pushing it Down and Praying series: i wanna know peace again (wanna sing a different song) and i want you to need me (need to want something more). Ella cross-posts on ao3, but I'll just link her masterlist here. This series is SO GOOD. She posted IWKPA first, and it literally cried, and then I screamed (really screamed) when she posted IWYTNM as a second part. She needs to write more asap.

Slow falling by restlessnights04 on ao3. WARNING though- it's incompleted... and hasn't been updated since July of last year. I'm devastated. However, I still love it so much and i feel that it's worth the read. It's just so good and I'd literally give anything for the author to complete it.

Motion Sick by @wbbfannnnnn13 is insane. Like so good. All of her works are incredible, honestly. I love a good homoerotic friendship trope. If you like angst and drama, this author is for you! I'm hooked. K is extremely talented and has me on the edge of my seat.

Anything and Everything by @luvergirl-535!!! She is the Pazzi GOAT. I especially love her one-shots not a lot, just forever and i don't see what anyone could see in anyone else (but you) Just the normalcy of it, the fluff. Ugh. Tew good.

This time it'll work fr by @loeysoi !! It's cross posted on Ao3, is hilarious and funny and smutty and delicious.

Oh and I just dropped my first one shot! Check it out if ya feel like it! Love - Keyshia Cole

[girlsworldillusion]

Scream for me little lamb (FINAL PART)

PART ONE HERE

Ghostface!Aemond x Fem!Reader

Summary: You don't know him, you haven't even seen him before. Yet this cruel killer is in your mind, entangled like a parasite. For just one night you want to get rid of this feeling - to get rid of him. What could possibly go wrong after all?

Rated: Explicit (+18)

Word count: 15k (fuck, that's it, I'm physically incapable of writing something succinct)

Author's Note: This story contains themes that may be disturbing or triggering for some, such as: DETAILED DESCRIPTIONS OF PANIC ATTACKS, BLOOD, MURDER, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, THREATS, AND ROUGH SEX. Your health (mental and physical) should always be your priority, if any of these themes are too heavy for you to handle I beg that you ignore this post.

Please do not mistake this for a love story. The reader clearly suffers from a serious level of emotional instability and the abuser takes advantage of this fragility to threaten and use her. This is NOT healthy and NOT romantic in any way and I obviously do NOT agree with this attitude in real life. This is just a FICTIONAL HISTORY and it is only in this context that something like this can be tolerated. The tags are all there however and if you do not feel comfortable reading something like this, there is no need to leave any derogatory comments. JUST DON'T READ IT.

To those who stay, enjoy reading!

English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you may find.

In the previous chapter:

And then the masked figure takes a casual step into the bathroom, the easy confidence in this simple act foreshadowing his ease in overpowering his victims. You swallow hard, backing away slowly as you lock eyes with the killer’s empty holes. The knowledge that there is no way out of the room is painfully obvious to you. The man takes up the entire space of the exit; the width of his shoulders stretching almost from one side of the doorframe to the other, his long legs slightly apart to fill any gaps.

The only way out of here was if you stepped over him; and that wasn’t going to happen.

----

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as your head tilts down discreetly. Submission. It’s instinctive, really. Your body knows what this man is capable of, remembers the brutal, bloody state his victims were found in. You don’t want that fate for yourself.

He hums at that, pleased with your pliant reaction - and you blush at the raw humiliation of feeling so inferior to someone else.

“So good, sweetie.”

He sighs ecstatically, pushing the two of you deep into the bathroom just enough to close the door, the click of the key locking it sounding purposefully loud. You feel the shape of an invisible hand holding your beating heart between its fingers, your breath coming in shallow huffs through your lips. He’s locked you in here, with him.

How did this happen? How did you, probably the only person who was actually taking this whole police alert about a serial killer on the loose seriously, end up here? How the hell is this possible, God?

Your phone vibrates from where it's on the floor and you jump in fright, the screen facing down doesn't allow you to see who's calling when you look at it. But it doesn't matter. You immediately look up at the man, see how he understands what you're going to do before it even happens; his ghostly face tilts toward the ceiling, an almost disappointed sigh sounding from beneath the mask.

"I praised you too soon, right?"

It turns out that if showing their fragile parts to a predator seeking mercy and lowering the head in submission is a natural primal instinct when there's seemingly no escape, then it's also a natural instinct to act immediately when a glimmer of hope and survival appears.

And your phone ringing is a glimmer of hope.

You dive to where it lies with your heart racing, desperate for the opportunity to warn someone of your situation and get help. But your fingers barely graze the object before a large hand grabs a fistful of hair at the back of your head, holding you in place before you can reach it.

On your knees on the bathroom tile, you’re thrashing hysterically in his iron grip, ugly sobs of pain escaping your lips with each rough tug at the roots of your hair.

“No! Let me go, please! HELP!” You scream as loud as you can, hoping it’s enough to alert someone outside, even though the obnoxiously loud music downstairs limits your chances to almost zero. You barely register the heavy thud of the knife hitting the floor as you open your mouth to scream louder, your voice muffled by another heavy hand slamming into your mouth, the leather of his glove squeezing your lips and cheeks until they hurt.

He lifts you to your feet with just his grip on your hair, your scream of agony once again muffled by his gloved fingers. The man doesn't let you go even when he reaches the bathroom sink, where he practically throws you against the counter, your hip bones jarring sharply with the impact. You slip a little in pain, shaking hands gripping his wrist as you claw desperately to make him release your mouth, staring in horror at the shadowy figure behind your body.

Your heartbeat is roaring loudly in your ears as you cease the attack and stare at the dark, empty eyes of the mask in the mirror, his body against yours.

The indigo lighting makes his presence even more sinister, shadowing a tall, frightening silhouette looming over you like a mythological god of death, dressed all in black. Except, of course, for his bizarre mask with sunken, innocuous eyes, like black holes etched in an agonized expression, the mouth dark and open in an eternal silent scream. The material of the mask is so white that it contrasts exaggeratedly against the black background covering his body, even in the violet light of the bathroom. Over his head he wears a wide hood that frames his mask and gathers around the long line of his strong shoulders like an ominous shawl, followed below by a kind of ragged-looking tunic, long sleeves on each arm, a subtle tightening around his waist, deliberately highlighting the defined plane of his abdomen. Below his waist, the tunic continues flowing to his ankles, with an opening running the length of each leg clad in trousers - to allow ease of movement, you presume. He needs agility to stalk students and kill them mercilessly, after all. To finish off the somber look, he wears military boots on his feet, intricate lines of laces running the length of them.

"How about you and I play a little game?" He asks close to your ear, white mask poking the side of your face, empty eyes staring at your reflection in the mirror. You struggle to breathe between the gaps of his fingers on your face, your eyes growing moist as the desperate situation truly sinks in.

"A really fun little game called 'don't scream when I let go of your mouth and in return I won't decorate the floor with your entrails'. How does that sound?" The way he says it, casual and easy, rivals the cruel grip on your hair, or the way his fingers press into the flesh of your cheeks until you squeal in pain.

The smell of blood surrounds you again, the same metallic, damp smell you felt when you were near the dripping knife he had between his fingers, and your senses seem to be heightened by the adrenaline flooding your veins. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that the smell is coming from him this time. From his clothes, you notice, as if the slimy stuff had been splattered across much of the shadowy fabric covering his body. And it was. You know it was.

Who was the victim tonight? Who was stabbed so brutally that their blood splattered like ketchup all over this monster’s clothes?

Would you suffer the same fate?

“I asked you a question, princess. Do you want to play with me or not?” He presses, a hint of impatience in his voice, the already crushing grip on your scalp tightening even more.

You nod as best you can at the restraint of his fingers in your hair and mouth, pretending you actually have some say in this, salty tears sliding down your waterline with the shaky movement.

“Good girl.”

He laughs close to your ear, a low, dark — but happy — tremor. He’s enjoying himself, basking in the satisfaction of your scared, teary expression. He’s insane.

“That’s it, love, isn’t it so much easier this way?” He purrs as he loosens his grip on your mouth, the back of his index finger massaging your cheek as you practically choke on the breath that vibrates too raggedly through your newly freed lips. He towers over you, watches you in the mirror with predatory focus - sees you struggle to keep yourself together, fresh tears dripping from your lower lashes, wetting the leather of the glove on his finger. “Mmm, you look so good like this, it makes me so fucking hard to see your tears fall for me.”

“Oh my God…” you choke, absolutely terrified at the man’s sickening sincerity, your eyes wide and wet, face to face with the singular reason for your nightmares. 

“Shh,” he takes a step closer to you, pinning you even tighter against the sink counter and his body, letting you feel the undeniable truth in his earlier statement — the thick tent in his pants digging into your lower back until you whimper out a sharp sound, “calm down, baby. Don’t do anything stupid now.”

You find yourself subtly wilting at the dangerous warning, though more out of sheer horror than subservience.

“A-are you going to kill me?” Your voice cracks at the end, scared and shrill; the sound of someone truly cornered — a little mouse caught in a cruel glue trap, just awaiting its inevitable end.

“Now, that wouldn't be fun, would it?” he pretends to ponder, his gloved fingertip drumming over your jaw now, down to your cheek, and you’re shaking so hard you think you might be shaking his body along with yours. “Oh no, I could never kill you. Hurt you? Yeah, maybe. But killing my little girl? That's a big nope to me.”

If he thought that would bring you any comfort, then he was sorely mistaken.

He grabs your face before you can properly react to his frightening words, his large, strong hand barely needing to exert much effort to do so, eclipsing your delicate features with his long fingers, the endless darkness of the glove contrasting with your skin. He squeezes your cheeks together until your lips purse into a fishy pout, forces your jaw up so you meet the blank stare of his mask in the mirror - and all you can do is cringe under his dangerous aura.

“Look at that, aren’t you the cutest little thing?”

You definitely don’t like the tone he uses, the easygoing, smug way he holds himself above you; as if he knows there’s absolutely nothing you can do to free yourself from his grasp, completely at his mercy. Chest thrusting into you, muscular thighs encasing your hips, hips pressed against your ass; keeping you in place. You try to claw at his wrist again, just to confirm the horrifying fact that no, he’s not going anywhere.

The grip on your cheeks loosens as he slides his hand to your throat, gloved fingers curling to rest over the hysterically pulsing vessels on either side, completely encircling the slender column of your neck with elongated digits like spider legs. He doesn’t apply any real pressure, but he doesn’t need to. He doesn’t need to. As he holds your gaze in the reflection with those cold, dark circles of his ghostly mask, the threat of his vast capacity for violence hangs as heavily as he does over your body.

He could rip you apart, right here and now. He could sink his sharp teeth into your neck like a dog would a chew toy, shaking your stuffed body between his jaws until only foam and patches remain.

The paralyzing fear is an increasingly real sensation in your chest, the cold curtain of numbness lifting on your skin and you swallow hard, your throat working under his fingers. Your heart pounds violently, so hard you can feel it in your ears, in your skull. Your eyes flutter in the mirror and your breath is just a broken whistle between your lips. He's pushing you straight into what will be a second episode in the same night, an unprecedented feat in your life - as fucked up as it has been so far.

"W-wait, please I-" You gasp, pulling at his grip messily, already feeling the spiral of panic wrapping around your thoughts like a vise, the claustrophobic noose that is the feeling of total inability to control yourself tightening around your throat.

"Cut that shit, little girl." Your tormentor breathes close to your ear, firm and authoritative, almost sullen as he stares into your terrified eyes in the mirror, his fingers on your throat squeezing slightly - just enough to make you feel it. "You're staying here with me, understand? It was cute the first time, but I don't want to hear about that shit now. I have much more interesting things to do with you than watch that pretty little head go somewhere I can't reach it. Yeah, I'm a selfish guy like that."

He finishes with a dry laugh and you don't know what's worse; his complete disrespect in describing your very real and very traumatic panic attack as something 'cute' or his incorrect assumption that you had a choice in this - that you could simply stop it from happening.

The grip on your throat is tighter now, your breathing becoming severely labored. His hand wraps around your throat and presses hard enough to make you struggle to breathe. You buck and push, running on pure instinct even though your efforts are restrained by his strength, the blood on his black robes spreading across your body like an artist’s brushstrokes in movement.

The notion that this man killed someone before coming to you is there once more, even more prominent now, pounding in your head like blows from a hammer.

“Relax, damn it, or I’ll make you.” He continues his unreasonable demand, squeezing his grip to press you against his chest until you feel every heated inch of him against your body, especially the disturbing way the thick line of his cock inevitably pushes and presses into your lower back with each sharp breath.

You want to scream at him and tell him that what he’s doing is the complete opposite of encouraging you to relax. But anxiety courses through your veins and your eyes close, spilling salty tears. You see grotesque shadows and demons you never thought you would see behind the darkness of your eyelids. It suffocates you, terrifies you, makes you tremble. You can’t move, you can’t escape, you can’t even open your eyes; you can only feel. Your heart is about to explode. You can’t hear anything. Your head hurts and your mind starts to shut down. That’s it, you’re falling again.

And then you feel your body shaking uncontrollably, something crawling under your skin like a lazy parasite. It’s not bad and that’s the first warning sign. Your temporarily inert mind, shut down for God knows how long, restarts with a slow trickle, your breathing becoming a little less hyperventilating and more...warm? However, you can’t force yourself to open your eyes yet, you can’t hear anything around you, you can’t even deduce what’s happening beyond the dark barrier of your closed eyelids. You feel strangely calmer, but filled to the brim with confused apprehension.

You shiver as the strange sensation comes on stronger, sticky molasses coursing through your veins, warming your belly to bring your mind back to reality.

Brought back....

When your eyes open, lethargic and sleepy, tears still blur your hazy vision until you can stare once more at the killer's ghostly mask.

“Welcome back, princess…” The tall man speaks and even hidden under the mask you know he’s smiling. His upper body is hunched over, wrapping your body in a sort of unwanted intimate cocoon. One of his arms is around your torso, keeping both of your arms firmly attached to your sides as if you were a Barbie doll, his other arm stretched down, beyond the visible limits of the mirror. You try to cast your eyes down to see where his hand is, a bad feeling in your chest, but your vision is fuzzy, swimming in dizziness and inconstancy. The threat of a second episode has drained the little strength that was left in your body.

You might even feel compelled to show gratitude for having escaped the oppressive spiral of a new crisis before it reached critical levels. Except something doesn’t feel right.

“W-what?” You ask in a thin voice, your head spinning with tiredness, your body kept upright only by the sink counter and the pressure the man exerts on your back. Feels wrong. You feel like you’re going to throw up at any moment. Your body is begging you to lie down and take a nap for an entire year. It’s a different kind of hysteria, you realize, like you’ve escaped one panic attack only to fall into another completely different one.

Heavy breaths rush from your mouth and your tongue feels sticky and dry as you try to swallow, squinting back into the mirror, trying to piece together the fragmented pieces of information in front of you to make sense of what’s happening.

He’s looking at you too. Even hidden beneath that mask, you feel his gaze burning into your reflection, drinking in the drunken confusion etched on your face, the fear — the shiver of unwanted pleasure that rips through your body like an invisible knife.

What’s happening?

You want to scream.

As you gaze up at him from beneath damp lashes, the burning sensation in your body seems to creep upon itself, gradually merging with the nerves in your belly as something warm and syrupy — needy — pulses deep in your core.

“That’s it, baby. See how much relaxed you are now?” He purrs with lazy irony, savoring each syllable on his tongue like an addictive candy. “Of course you did, the baby just needed something different to focus that little head of her on.”

There’s a gentle but rhythmic swaying of the muscles along his arm, you notice with your eyes locked on the mirror, a disturbingly familiar movement — and a shiver of wet pleasure licks up your spine as you squint, a very instinctive, primal part of your brain finally breaking through the hazy fog to scream that it knows exactly where his hand is.

Your awareness of the world around you returns like a punch to the gut, painful and suffocating, as you feel the leather of his glove between your legs.

"N-no! No, please, I don't want to-" You stammer, tired and scared beyond belief, struggling to escape the man, but his grip around you is like a heavy chain, his arm still keeping yours locked tightly at your sides.

This man has somehow managed to rescue you from a traumatic encounter with your own demons, only to plunge you into a different kind of terror - one even more agonizing.

Your sobbed protests mean nothing in the face of the killer's sick desires, as he languidly slides two of his fingers in a V around your clit, up and down. A shiver runs through you, your thighs instinctively clenching around his hand, a reaction that in turn elicits an amused chuckle from the man.

You shake and beg louder as he continues to rub your pussy, his hand writhing inside the tiny shorts you wear under your costume skirt, ignoring your breathy sobs and whimpers as if you were just a cute, whiny puppy. You shiver, your inner walls clenching around nothing with each lick of his fingers around your clit, reacting against your will to his teasing touches.

A haze of fear and pleasure takes over your mind as you shake your head, struggling to breathe through your nose to keep from passing out. It all feels too much and yet not enough, your hands twitching nonstop where they’re held, your body shaking from head to toe. Your blood runs thick as you stare at him in the mirror, begging in a way. Trying to say anything, since your voice doesn’t even seem to work with the overwhelming wave of feelings coursing through you. Your lips just part, nothing but a wordless plea.

“Oh, poor girl, don’t struggle so much…just relax, I’ll take such good care of you. Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything but staying there and being soft and pretty for me. Let me think of everything else.” He sings condescendingly, the elongated tip of the ghostly mask’s chin appearing in your line of vision as he rests his jaw on your shoulder, the material of the hood brushing against the side of your flushed face.

His scent is enveloping you like a chokehold now; rich, clotted blood, running red and still warm on his clothing — which is now permanently stained on your costume as well, to your horror. But beneath all that disturbing scent of wet iron, there are also notes of crackling, mossy sandalwood and something fresh, citrusy like lemons or bergamots.

If it weren’t for the blood trying so hard to overwhelm everything else, his scent would be pleasant, your clouded mind realizes, seductive even.

The sight before you is breathtaking, to say the least - and not in a pleasant way.

A pathetic, broken little girl is crying, her cheeks red and streaked with tears, her eyes drunk and her brows furrowed in anguish. On her body she wears a foolish Sailor Mars costume that barely covers her body, a stupid thing she didn't even want to wear in the first place, the fabric of the red skirt draped in front of her thighs swaying suggestively, right where the hand of the man behind her remains hidden. The man in question, a vicious killer highly wanted by the police, covers her almost completely with his tall frame and black robes - a stark contrast to the girl's almost childish outfit. The white mask on his face rests on her shoulder, his long arm caging her small body close to his, touching every part he can reach as he squeezes and caresses her as if he would die without it. It's almost romantic, in theory, but horrifying and frightening when you know what's really happening.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut, refusing to look down and confirm what your nerves and body already know all too well is happening. Fear grips your throat so tightly that you shake like a leaf, tears streaming from your eyes as you feel his first finger delve inside you.

It should hurt. The rough material of the glove in direct contact with such an entirely sensitive part of your body should be uncomfortable, at the very least. But it isn’t. There’s something aiding your endeavor, your hindbrain adds as his finger sinks in all the way to the first knuckle with just a little pressure from his wrist. There’s something sticky and thick there along with his finger, messing with your folds with humiliating sounds — spit, probably.

“Please…stop—” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut so tightly you swear constellations explode in the darkness of your eyelids.

“You know,” he begins, ignoring your foolish plea, impatient as he pushes his finger the rest of the way into your trembling, clenching walls until you squeak out a sob, body tensing like a bow beneath his. “There’s a look on people’s faces that I meet. A hysterical, helpless look when they realize that this is the end for them. No matter how much they’ve resisted and fought, they all get that look when the time comes. It’s not exactly a look of begging for mercy. No, they’re usually past that point at this moment.” His chuckle is nothing short of disturbing near your ear, the arm around your waist rising so that he can grab a thick fistful of your hair between his fingers and squeeze until you cry out loudly at the sharp pain and open your eyes, obeying his silent demand to face him once more through the mirror.

“No, it’s not a plea for mercy, sweetie. It’s just a anguished conformity, you know? A part of them even wants to hold out longer, out of instinct I guess, but deep down they know it’s useless. They just know it’s over for them. And that’s when that look appears.”

Your breath hitches visibly as he slides a second finger alongside the first.

“It’s the same look you have now. That look of pure agony and submission on your face, all because you just know you can’t escape me...mmm,” He’s closer than ever, rubbing the mask on the side of your face, and all you can think is that he’s right. As much as your body tells you to run, you know there’s no way you can outrun him, he’s unfortunately more capable than you in every way that matters right now.

He presses himself even closer to your body, his voice slurred in your ear.

“You make me so fucking horny, baby.”

He’s not slow, much less gentle when he moves his fingers inside you. He fucks you with them seriously from the first few seconds, curling them each time he sinks back into your heat, your walls clenching around him, warring to adjust to the unexpected assault. Your cries of pain are interrupted by small involuntary moans and gasps every time he presses too deep inside you, finding a spot that makes you dizzy, held only by his painful grip on your hair. You bite your lip, struggling to keep the noises inside.

He makes a grunting sound, tongue clicking disapprovingly beneath his mask.

“None of that, princess. Let me hear those beautiful sounds. They’re there because of me, I cultivated them...they’re all mine.” Your head falls back on his shoulder as he suddenly moves his hand down your clavicle, long fingers pushing aside the fluffy purple lace of your costume to grip one of your breasts tightly. “You’re all mine.” Even over the fabric of your clothes, his grip on your breast is possessive, and you wish your arms would fight back when he starts dragging his palm across your nipple, prickling it until it becomes a sensitive little peak. But all you can do is lift your hands to rest them on the counter, your head still thrown back against his chest.

“Fuck,” he groans, his thumb now rubbing against the nub of your nipple with small flicks that send a jolt of pleasure straight between your legs. “I knew you’d be perfect. So pathetic to me, baby. You feel so good…”

You squeeze your eyes shut, a muffled sob escaping your lips as he pushes your body forward, making you arch into the counter, his larger body pressed against your back, his hands still glued to their respective places. He curls his fingers into your pussy, a small moan leaving you, and begins to pound against your back. He keeps you bent over as he thrusts his clothed cock between your ass cheeks, each rough thrust pushing another inch of your skirt up your hips.

“Spread your legs for me,” he pants next to your ear. When you tense and don’t comply immediately, the hand on your breast squeezes so hard it actually hurts. “Are you going to make me repeat myself, princess? Every second you make me wait, I get more impatient. Are you sure you want to see me impatient?”

You quickly part your legs, the action causing his fingers to dig deeper between your swollen walls with each hard thrust, wet sounds sounding too loud in the cramped bathroom. His hips move against your back in rough motions, grinding up and down, causing heat to spread throughout your body until your head is spinning, broken sounds leaving your lips. The gummy walls of your pussy contract around his fingers and he growls as he ravages your body like it belongs to him.

You feel good and horrible.

Blood on fire, nerves on fire, you breathe as a way to steady yourself in this moment of maddening agony. You are uncomfortable in every way possible in the given situation, and oh how it fills the void in your soul with something...alive.

Here, at the mercy of this killer's cruel hands, you feel alive for the first time in what feels like forever. It's horrible and unwelcome and scary as hell, but it's also absolutely electrifying.

How fucked up is your mind anyway?

The man continues to grind into your ass with every heated inch of his cock, the movement of his fingers in your pussy quickening, the heel of his gloved hand rubbing relentlessly against your clit in this position. The hand on your breast doesn't stop teasing your nipple, poking and pinching. With every noise he pulls from you, his movement becomes faster, hips matching the rhythm of his fingers in your intimacy. As if you were egging him on. You whimper, squeezing him so hard you could tell you were trying to keep him out, but the action only serves to heighten the sickening pleasure coiling in your stomach.

“Shit,” he hisses, thrusting his fingers in and out, in and out, watching in the mirror as your face contorts with pleasure. “So good. Feeling so good to me. You squeeze my fingers so hard, princess. Fuck. That’s my good fucking girl, yeah?”

Admittedly someone with a blatant emotional inability to accept any kind of compliment — especially one from a fucking serial killer who’s currently keeping you impaled on his fingers while grinding his cock into your ass and making you cry like he’s getting paid to — you slump your shoulders and pant, staring wide-eyed at the man, your rapid breathing fogging the glass of the mirror. His words sink into your bones, stoking the rising heat in your abdomen, and your pussy clenches around his fingers again. He lets out a short laugh, rubbing his masked face against your burning cheek.

“Do you like that, you filthy slut? Do you like when I tell you how good you feel? Hell, you’re fucking squeezing me. Your pretty little pussy wants me so bad.”

Your eyelashes flutter and your breathing becomes more ragged; fear, pleasure, and pain combine into one intense experience, and you realize with horror that you’re approaching orgasm. It’s humiliating, but it doesn’t stop you from tentatively moving your own hips against his palm, seeking more friction on your little clit as heated tears roll down your cheeks.

‘No, no, no, please.’ You whimper to yourself, eyes nearly rolling into the back of the head as you arch your ass into his hips in involuntary response to the inescapable, frenzied sensation coursing through your body.

“The poor baby’s gonna cum.” He chuckles, though his own voice is breathy, wild. “Yeah, gonna make a fucking mess of that pussy and get it all nice and wet for my cock, right?” He growls wickedly between his chuckles, pushing your body forward with each hard drag of his cock into your ass, grinding the leather of his glove into your clit as he repeatedly hits the same sensitive spot in your cunt.

You can’t take it anymore, your clenched jaw slackening as you begin to give in to the pleasure. The overwhelming wave of your coming orgasm is visible on the horizon and you can’t do anything but stare at it head on, waiting helplessly to be absolutely swept away by it.

"Ah ah, fuck!" You cry out between parted lips, viciously squeezing the edge of the counter between your fingers, losing control over your body, unable to stop yourself from moaning lewdly in time with the forced climax.

With one last flick of his fingers and a pinch to your nipple, you have no choice but to stare blankly into the mirror as you shatter into a thousand pathetic pieces with a strangled scream. The trembling of your inner thighs is quickly followed by your toes curling inside the red boots of the costume as you cum hard around the masked killer's fingers.

Your pussy quivers violently as he shakes with laughter against your body, with a dose of sincere joy that you would find almost childish if it weren't for the obscene way he is still thrusting his cock into your back. He continues to finger fuck you throughout your orgasm, leaving you gasping and writhing in shocks of pleasure, your eyes wide and wet in the mirror.

“Please stop, that’s enough-” You gasp, your legs locking from the overstimulation as he continues to work your clit mercilessly. “P-please, I’ll do anything, please just stop! Stop now -"

You're interrupted as a whirlwind of dizzying events ensues; one moment he's fingering your pussy to overstimulation with no intention of stopping - the next he's pulling his fingers from your quivering walls with such force that it elicits a shocked gasp from you. Your body is suddenly spun around and your back slams painfully into the mirror with an impact strong enough to crack the glass into several sharp ridges on your back, small shards getting stuck in the back of your costume. You have half a second to scream at the dangerous sensation before he's straightening you up on the counter, his body wedging between your parted legs before you can even react and close them.

You're still trying to figure out what happened; how he managed to just lift you into the air and slam you into the counter like you weighed nothing. How he was so quick to do it and, most importantly, what motivated him to do it. But all is forgotten when he grabs your neck between his fingers, roughly pulling your face closer to his until you're face to face with that ghostly mask.

But there's no fake face in the world that can hide the anger bubbling through the man's pores. A feeling so obvious, intense and abrupt that it makes you shiver and try to pull away reflexively, but his grip won't let you go anywhere. His already undeniably imposing figure straightens to its full height, intimidating and dangerous, a ominous and dark aura that encircles your body like a spool of doom.

"Stop? Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me when to stop? Do you know who decides when we stop, you bitch? Me! That fucking cunt belongs to me. It's mine as fuck and you're not going to tell me when I should or shouldn't touch it. Because your whole body, your mind, your fucking soul, is mine. Mine."

He curses and bites acidly right in front of your face and fear hits you all at once, absolutely terrifying: the way he’s panting under his mask and hissing with barely contained rage, the way your name leaves his lips in a heated growl. A direct threat from a mindless animal. It’s all clear — so, so clear.

He’s dangerous and unstable and horrible and you can’t escape him.

Your hands start to tug at his wrist, pushing him away, already sensing what’s coming - and it really comes. Ignoring your futile attempt to push him away, the hand on your throat tightens. His fingers press, cutting off the air, squeezing and hurting your flesh. Your windpipe is tightly caged between his palm and thumb and he shows no hesitation as he presses hard, suffocating you with a cruel grip.

Now, unlike his outburst of anger a few seconds ago, with your life literally being measured in his hands, he becomes the cold and indifferent embodiment of his alias, watching your fight as if it were nothing new.

It isn't.

The world around you begins to spin as you feel dizzy, your head swimming and spinning as your heart beats uselessly against the finger over your carotid artery, numb lips and throat working ever more slowly beneath his hand. Your struggle is over, as meaningless as it was to begin with.

You surrender to this ghost, dropping his hands from his wrist and letting your body go limp beneath him.

The monster senses your surrender, humming contently at your soft submission, even though you are barely conscious enough to notice. The grip on your throat loosens and you instinctively tilt your head away from his grasp, gasping for breath in desperate noises, coughing and spitting as tears spill over in response to the throbbing sting in the circumference of your throat. You feel a large hand stroke your hair as you struggle to catch your breath; and the almost patronizing touch, as horrible and unwelcome as it is, grounds you for a moment, helping you gradually transform your rapid, labored breathing into deep sighs.

"Don't forget what I'm going to say now and maybe we won't have to go through this again, princess:" He whisper at you with serious voice. "You're mine. For better or worse. You're mine."

The hand in your hair moves forward, tangling in the strands, massaging your skull, and it's probably just the hazy haze of suffocation that keeps you from noticing his next move, but it's the feel of a gentle, wet kiss on the bruised line his fingers have left on your skin that makes you conscious once more. He holds your head firmly by the hair, preventing you from moving to get a better look, but it's immediately clear that he's pushed the mask up enough to expose his lips, which continue to slide along the curve of your neck and jaw.

Your ears are throbbing with the pounding of your heart as you stare over the killer’s shoulder at the wall across the bathroom with wide eyes – the man blowing puffs of pure wet heat across your skin to leave goosebumps in his wake. His mouth is undesirably soft and delicate on your bruised skin (pleasant really, you’d say, if you weren’t, well…in the situation you’re in), his other hand coming up so he can rub his thumb across your lips, slowly parting them until he pokes your teeth with the tip of his glove.

“Open that pretty mouth and show me you know it, sweet little slut.” He whispers the degradation with a noticeably lessened dose of hatred than before – low and breathy, his mouth on your cheek, his thumb pulling away to run his index and middle fingers across your parted lips.

His breath bathes your skin in wet heat, the refreshing scent of some mint gum he chewed recently still there. (He was chewing a damn piece of gum while he murdered someone, your mind completes in full hysterics. Brutally piercing some poor student's insides with the sharp blade of that knife while he carelessly rolls the soft gum between his teeth. He's sick, sick, sick.)

"Suck them clean." He orders, cutting through the murky waters of your wandering mind as pushes two fingers onto the flat of your tongue, forcing you to accept the invasion.

It's on autopilot that you register the strong, smoky taste of leather mixed with the familiar taste of your arousal, which still glistens with the fresh wetness of your orgasm on the surface of his glove. You squeeze your eyes shut, gagging more at the sheer depravity of the act than the intrusion itself.

"That's it, princess. So beautiful like this, taking my fingers like a good girl..." he pulls his face away to look at yours, smiling at your fearful gaze; you close the lips around his fingers, sucking and licking slowly at the soft leather of the glove as you clean your own taste from the material as if you meant it - even as the tears keep falling. All you can see in the purple lighting of the bathroom is the lower half of his face and even that is partial, the white mask resting on his nose shadowing what little skin is visible. Despite that, it is evident how his smile stretches, wide and mischievous - pearly teeth slightly crooked at the front, canines sharp and shiny, like those of a cunning predator that has caught up with its prey.

His grip on your hair tightens to keep you still, his fingers coming to life as he thrusts slowly, out and in and out and in, into the cozy warmth of your mouth. You choke around him, saliva pooling between teeth and flesh as he pushes your tongue down, fucking your mouth like it’s a pussy — each slow stroke pushing deeper, until you feel the tips of both his fingers sliding down your throat.

“God, I want to feel so bad that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock,” he sighs, his gaze locked on yours, fascinated by your gasps and sobs, his smile slowly dying so he can bite his lip as he hums dreamily, “you’re going to be so good to me, I just know it.”

Your wet gaze is half-lidded, mouth slack and full, only giving in to the forced intrusion when you feel him gather the strands of your hair into a messy ponytail in his other hand to pull and push your head along his now-still fingers - the explicit and purposeful parallel of the depraved act with another very unique one does not go unnoticed.

He's guiding the rhythm of your head as if he is dictating how you suck his cock.

It is humiliating; a byproduct of male dominance that is offensive and filthy in its most brutal form. You hate every damn second of this silent abuse. But your pussy seems to have a mind of its own, because with each forced thrust against the saliva-soaked leather of the glove, it clenches a little tighter around nothing, demanding attention.

You whimper at the betrayal of your own body, mouth stuffed and saliva beginning to drip down your lips and chin.

When he withdraws his fingers from between your lips, it is with calculated slowness, prolonging the elasticity of a thick thread of saliva that remains joining the digits in the glove to your loose tongue. He grunts a satisfied sound at the debauched sight, lowering his face to stretch out his own tongue and break the sticky bond after a few seconds of contemplation, licking the saliva accumulated on your chin upwards with a greedy drag of the wet and hot muscle, lighting flames of embarrassment on your cheeks.

You shudder at the grip on your hair as he pulls your head back at the same time as roughly sinks his teeth into the soft plush of your lower lip. Your little hands immediately spread themselves on his chest to try to push him away, but this and your cry of pain only serve to draw an amused laugh from him. It is obviously of his own free will that he mercifully gives in to your plea after a few seconds of torture. He sucks the sensitive flesh into his lips, licking and soothing the bite with a gentle, wet suction.

Mistakenly, your body decides to relax against his hands, welcoming the gentle but cunning care that is his tongue caressing the small, bloody cut he left on your lip. He eases your pain, even if it is because of him that you feel it in the first place.

It is natural for the contact to evolve, after all, his tongue is right there; sliding across your lower lip, his lips brushing yours provocatively. It is really predictable what would happen next, but it still pulls a dazed gasp from your throat.

His fingers hold your head firmly by the ponytail and his mouth covers yours completely, like a wet, warm cocoon that you cannot escape. The groan that sounds from his throat at the feel of your lips on his is one of deep satisfaction, a breathy appreciation that rumbled as he curls his body over yours, locks your legs around his waist, and moves his mouth over yours.

It’s nothing like any kiss you’ve ever experienced in the past. You’re not even sure if it could even be called a kiss.

There are perhaps no words for it other than hunger and need as he barely touches his mouth to yours before his lips are forcing yours apart so the wet muscle of his tongue can slide between your teeth. He’s rough and intense, kissing you like he’s kicking your soul out of your body. It’s all a clash of teeth and tongue that leaves you with your hands trembling in the collar of his robe, your eyes half-lidded and your cheeks flushed as you struggle not to choke on the wild rhythm of the pseudo-kiss. Every inch of the contact feels equally forced and premeditated, an unaltered conclusion that has you subtly pushing your hips forward against him as the sheer surprise and discomfort of the act subsides into something deeper. Darker. You can barely breathe in the tiny, moist inches that open between your lips, making small choking sounds in his mouth - stunned, outraged, humiliated, bursting into flames-

The pointed chin of the mask is digging painfully into your skin at this angle and all you can do is try to tilt your head to the side to avoid hurting yourself, since the man doesn't seem to have the slightest interest in your comfort. But not even this is enough to contain the chilling flame that grows between your legs with each hot breath that leaves the killer's nostrils on your cheek, his greedy tongue licking your teeth and his lips drinking your saliva as if it were the most delicious wine.

When he breaks the kiss it's like breathing after a long time underwater, your other senses dulled and directed only at him like a funnel.

"What in the bloody hell was that? Getting a guy all heated and bothered with a kiss," He grins between a breathy laugh, barely separating his lips from yours, rubbing the tips of your noses together in a comical imitation of affection as you both breathe heavily, "you really are something special, aren't you little girl?"

As you gasp for air, feeling your cheeks darken several shades at the unwanted compliment, the man caresses your face in a disturbingly affectionate manner, as if he's rewarding you for letting him kiss your mouth like that, even though it's clear he's not done yet. Pulling away from you just a few inches, you twitch and yelp as he roughly grabs you by the hips to pull you to the edge of the counter, making you subconsciously lean your back. A second later, he rips the tiny shorts you're wearing down, skimming over the curve of your ass and thighs, grabbing the flesh there greedily as he simply rips the thing off your body.

It takes a few seconds for the realization that there are no more barriers in place to keep the killer at bay to sink in — not that it ever did stop him before anyway. But knowing that beneath your red pleated skirt there’s no covering to offer even a modicum of safety (even if misguided) is nerve-racking in a way that makes your blood roar through your veins, and, illogically, not in a bad way.

“Do you feel that?” he murmurs, wet, breathless lips brushing the hollow of your throat as he bends down slightly to unbuckle his belt. The clink of metal is nearly drowned out by the pounding of your heart and the loud music downstairs. “That’s what you do to me. Every time I see you, every time you look up with those big, shy eyes — I want you to look at me, I need that look to be mine. And you don’t understand, do you? You drive me so fucking crazy, girl.” You barely put up a fight when he takes a thigh in each hand and wraps them around his waist before taking his cock in his palm and stroking it a little. It takes everything in you not to look down, teeth sinking into the soft, swollen surface of your lower lip as you hear the wet squelch that the contact between his gloved fingers and his cock makes with each lewd tug.

There should be more resistance in you, but all that’s left at this point is exhaustion and the painful slap of reality that comes with accepting the fact that you’re not rejecting this as much as you used to. There’s a war going on between your body and your mind. Where, of course, you know how sick this man is and how dangerous it would be to give in, there’s also the certainty that he brings out something undesirable in you — that intoxicating, dark sensation of feeling good about being so violently desired by someone. It’s not something you’re proud of, of course. But there’s no denying the way your body wants to succumb to it, to give itself completely to this cruel man you don’t even know but who is obviously obsessed with you. It’s something you can’t begin to comprehend, much less accept, but it comes rushing back to you anyway.

Your poor therapist might have a thing or two to say about such urges.

He rubs the bulbous crown of his cock against your sensitive, shamefully touch-starved clit and you shiver as the heat and dew of his pre-cum spreads through you at the contact. A warm, newborn droplet trickles over your bud of nerves, bathing it in tingling as he steadily nudges the tip along your wet folds. His thumb joins in the teasing, swirling with a few hard rubs followed by a softer touch, too deliberate to be anything but expert, pushing against the hood and pulling it back, exposing your nub to him even more. From his expose lips he makes a deep sound as he feels you getting wetter, more slippery. He circles your clit relentlessly and it’s him who moans louder between the two of you, even though it’s you who’s eyes are rolling back in pleasure.

He recovers quickly, though. Hearing and seeing how loud the sounds of your wetness ring out in the small bathroom, he breathes a laugh so mocking and icy that you feel yourself immediately wither against the mirror behind you, your face burning with the blush of a new wave of humiliation. The killer ignores you, of course, using one hand to lift your thigh up and to the side, doing the same with the other, adjusting both of your legs so that your feet rest almost flat along the edge of the counter - exposing you as if your modesty and dignity mattered nothing at all.

And it doesn't. Not to him.

"So wet." He teases, annoyingly making a point of giving voice to what you've both already realized. His hand slides over the curve of your thigh possessively, pushing the draped fabric of your red skirt with it so that it bunches at your hips. He groans as watches his length freely slide through the slickness between your legs, giving a shallow pump forward. The gloved thumb presses with just the right amount of force, rubbing in a circular motion that makes your toes curl inside the boots and your throat tighten at the noise you suppress. That is, until the soft, wet tip catches against your opening and he pushes inside without further ado.

You gasp loudly at the sharp pressure, reflexively slapping the hands against his chest to push him away, but soon both his arms are around your body, preventing you from going any further, pinning you against him with his strong hands and his cock.

“Aaaah!” You cry out, and he immediately brushes his lips against your ear, leaving a sharp bite on the sensitive flesh, enjoying the struggle evident on your face. Your pussy hasn’t been used properly in a long time, and this man certainly doesn’t lack in the size department.

“Shhhh,” he hums, sounding too pleased for it to even remotely be interpreted as an attempt at comfort. “You can handle it, baby,” he whispers in your ear, one hand relaxing its iron grip on your body to cup your cheek, “I know you can.”

It’s not like he’s giving you any options other than to handle it. And yet, over the sting of the stretch and the ache of being taken without denying it, your insides burn with dark desire. It’s like being fully satisfied with something you didn’t even know you needed.

“That’s it?” he asks as you throw your head back in the mirror, eyes closed and teeth digging into your bottom lip. “Does it feel good to you like this? Baby likes a little pain, yeah?”

You blush, unable to think about it too much without feeling like you could go straight to the hospice.

Thankfully, he doesn’t press you for an answer. Instead, firmly breaching your tremble hole, he thrusts and thrusts and gasps heated and wetly into your ear, pressing deeper until he’s halfway in. And then he stops. The fingers of one hand close loosely on the bruised skin of your throat and you freeze, fearing for a moment that he’s going to choke you once more — this time while impaling you on his thick cock. But as the seconds stretch by without such a thing happening, you begin to notice something else. Those fingers; cruel, bloody fingers, responsible for the deaths of many people, are unsteady on your flesh.

He’s trembling.

The elongated digits are gripping your flesh with no real pressure, just a nice, soft collar around your throat, but the way they’re trembling is noticeable even through the barrier of the glove.

You open your eyes to a slit, knowing you can’t see him properly with the way his mouth remains pressed against your ear, breathing heavily and heatedly. And there’s no logical explanation as to why such an action catches you so off guard. But feeling this killer, this horrible, terrifying man who is obviously incapable of a basic level of respect for human life, gasp and tremble at being inside you, makes you gasp in response. Your insides clench involuntarily and more moisture coats the heavy shaft in your pussy, making it easier for him to pass through.

Then, slowly, he moves his other palm up to squeeze your breast over the fabric of your costume before he begins to pump the rest of his length inside you.

“Mmm…that’s it,” he murmurs, “f-fuck, you feel so good, so good.”

Again, you say nothing, burying your embarrassing moans and your tears as best you can — both from pleasure and humiliation. The man is so disturbingly warm curled up against you, his body broad and tall and so firm, dark clothing heavy but soft over his defined stomach that flexes against you with each thrust - the mask poking your flesh every now and then as his breath hitches in your ear. You want to cry out in fear as much as you want to scream in pleasure.

It’s a bitter kind of betrayal the way your body seems to want to decide the game for you; your quivering pussy giving in, against all logic and reason, to accept the forced intrusion, allowing the rest of his cock to pass inside your silky walls. You lose the battle almost immediately after that, gasping at the feel of every inch of his thick member firmly seated inside you, breathless at what he’s daring to do to you. Worse than if he had broken into the bathroom to murder you, you’d say. Because here, he’s not just violently attacking you and taking your right to life, without you being able to fight back. Here he’s making you submit to him; making you want to surrender to the overwhelming sensations that he brutally rips from your body - like a priest exorcising a poor possessed soul. He humiliated you in the worst possible way and he knows it.

And you find yourself less and less concerned about it.

You tilt your head to the side - and now there is no more internal restraint to prevent your moans.

“Please…aaah…”

“That’s it, princess,” he chuckles, as if he senses you’re giving in.

The time he stays still inside you doesn’t last long, just the few seconds long enough for you to feel the heat and enlargement of his cock, the thick veins pulsing as he bounces between your walls. It’s as if the pain has pierced you beyond anything else, pierced you like a sharp bolt of lightning that has fried your nerves until it’s left behind nothing but a sense of…overwhelming fullness. You’re completely boneless, trapped between his strong body and the mirror, your hands clenched loosely in the dark fabric of his robe. It’s a sensory experience that quickly becomes too much, but not enough.

When he pulls his hips back you experience a confused moment of panic, frustrated as you feel him pull away from you to leave your pussy achingly empty. There’s no time to question the insanity of your thoughts though.

His fingers are still shaking as he pulls away from you, releasing your throat to tangle them deep into the roots of your hair as a scream is forced like a punch from your lungs when, in a single strong thrust, he is fully sheathed within your quivering insides once more.

Between the iron grip on your hair and his hand gripping your breast like a vise, all you can do is grip his robe tighter as he ravages you. His teeth are where your neck meets your shoulder with a sharp bite, pulling away to thrust inside you in another violent thrust, your hole stretched and more vulnerable than ever. Your frantic brain is making you all too aware of every little sensation racking your body. The way his thick cock opens you, how each thrust makes your smaller body tremble, leaving you breathless as you dig your nails into the soft fabric of his robe to try and hold on through the punishing rhythm of his hips. When this night is over, and assuming you’re still alive, you know you’ll be bruised and sore everywhere, from your hips and ass to your breasts and throat. In your mind and in your soul. Right now, you don’t know if you’ll ever recover from this. If you’d ever want to.

"S-stop..." You don't know why the words are coming out of your mouth; not only would they be useless to the man, but they also carry no real force behind them. You don't even know if you really want him to stop. It feels more like an instinctive reaction than what your brain deems to be the right thing to do. "I - I'm going to scream."

He laughs, recognizing your empty threat for what it is, but your stomach still twists when he grips your hair to pull your face towards his.

"Oh, you promise? Please do it, little girl."

Out of spite, you close your mouth, but that only seems to incite him. With an amused chuckle and one last pinch to your nipple, he releases your breast to grab both of your thighs. His hands are large on your flesh while his fingers bruise the soft skin even more.

"Such a stubborn little thing. We can't have any of that, can we, sweetie?"

His hands curl under your ass and, after a greedy squeeze, he’s lifting you up, not letting his cock slip out of your pussy for even half a moment before he slams you against the wall. Your spine arches and your bones rattle from the nothing short of violent impact, but he doesn’t care, writhing and pulsing inside you, undeniably stimulated by your pain - and oh god, this definitely shouldn’t feel as fucking good as it does.

It barely takes a second before he’s holding you steady and still by your thighs before he starts ramming his wet cock in and out of you again, like a machine, so hard that each thrust of his hips makes your back hit the wall.

In this position you’re forced to wrap your arms behind his neck for safety, feeling his hands close on the inner curve below your knee to spread your legs even wider, his body so intimately pressed against yours that it’s almost unsettling. Especially after so long without any human contact like this. You feel, to say the least, overwhelmed by such a sudden onslaught of intimacy.

You tense when he thrusts in a particularly dirty way, grinning like hell when you hiccup with a moan. He repeats the movement out of pure tease, his mask askew but turned toward you, the mocking line of his lips right next to yours.

“Mine,” he whispers, “My princess, my little pet, my cute little toy.”

His thrusts become not only hard but fast as well, and you can hear each time his body hits yours with a wet slap, each withdrawal slick and sticky.

“Please, w-why are you doing this? Why me?” It’s all you can manage to ask, your head growing increasingly confused, your pussy growing wetter.

He slows his movements to a blessedly slower grind, humming dramatically as he pretends to ponder your question.

“Why you?”

In an abrupt movement that you wouldn't have expected in a million years, he lets go of one of your thighs and abruptly rips the mask off his face, with such ease that you initially don't understand what it means. But then, with finality and violence, the weight of reality falls upon you.

He took off the mask.

He let you see his face.

The face of a murderer wanted by the police.

You were already dead. Yes, if such a fate was uncertain before, it certainly isn't anymore.

The shock of the revelation is so absolute that it takes a few seconds for you to actually focus on his face. But slowly, each individual feature seems to stick to your mush brain.

First you are greeted with that shock of long platinum blonde hair, tied in a loose bun, a few strands stuck to the sweaty skin of his forehead and the sides of his face.

The hair alone would be enough for you to easily recognize him.

But then your gaze falls to those eyes.

Eye, actually. A single, functional one, a stormy blue — enigmatic and dark as the turbulent waters of the farthest reaches of the ocean. The other, or where the other should be, is occupied by some kind of ocular prosthesis of a blue hue that could not be less like his good eye — a vivid, electric blue, like a rare, brilliant sapphire stone.

It is the first time you have seen him like this, so exposed. Always hidden by a pair of sunglasses or, failing that, a surgical eye patch. The pale skin of the man’s face would be flawless, were it not for the long, jagged scar that cuts across his cheekbone to above the line of his damaged eye.

The purple hues of the bathroom highlight all his sharp angles and an elegant appearance that is characteristic of the aristocratic genes of someone so well born.

Yes, you know this man.

Aemond Targaryen.

A college guy. Normal, as far as you can tell. Or as normal as someone privileged and born with a silver spoon in their mouth could be. Yes, he was introverted, arrogant even with his silent and mysterious attitude, as if everyone was beneath him. The few times he was pushed to enter a conversation or any other social interaction (most often by his own brother) his comments were imbued with a polite acidity that is totally unique to someone with class, or with discreet but effective jabs that carried a humor considered, at least, questionable.

Aemond constantly balanced on the fine line between cool elegance and petulant irreverence, which generated controversial opinions about him among the students. To you, he was intriguing. Someone you quietly admired, offering polite greetings and a sincere smile when your paths crossed.

Yes, you knew him - as did the entire student body knows him. The Targaryens were obscenely wealthy, widely recognized for carrying an exorbitant legacy not only of family polemics, but also of successful generations, all in the field of technology and communication.

And yes, Aemond Targaryen was someone seriously conflicted, with his taciturn and enigmatic aura.

But a serial killer? That would be impossible.

And yet he was here, smelling of leather and sandalwood - as well as blood and death, wet crimson stains on his dark robes, forcing you to the most terrifying and controversial act of your entire life.

The dawning horror of the notion that the killer on the loose could be someone you know, someone who was present in your daily life, who attended the same classes as you and yet, who you never even dreamed of suspecting, seems to want to suffocate you momentarily.

“I see you around campus. You know, some wise ones tend to avoid me whenever possible, and then there are those pathetic rats who try to get close out of some specific interest in what my clown family can offer. But you? You’re always kind. Even with your mysterious and solitary attitude, you’re still so stupidly kind to me. It’s ridiculous, princess, but also so cute.” He’s pleased by the utter shock on your face, grinning evilly as he shoots his hand out and wraps both forearms around the inside of your knees, his cock thrusting deeper into your pussy, leaning in menacingly until his teeth are grazing your ear.

“You’re all I can think about, baby. You’ve invaded my mind, my body, my life. You’ve fucking ruined me.” He speaks directly into your ear, a harsh whisper that makes you gasp and shiver despite the crushing weight of the discovery still fresh in your mind.

“It’s only fair that I ruin you too, right?”

You glow at the intimacy of his words, incandescent with the blush spreading across your cheeks, your throat, your collarbone.

“You...oh, fuck...” Your accusatory words to him die on your tongue as one particular thrust hits a spot inside you that has you curling the toes in response. Little gasps escape your lips as he hits the same spot over and over, your eyes filled with revulsion and desire beginning to soften with an inevitable flutter of the lashes. 

 “That’s right, just take it, baby.” He sighs with a smile, kissing your jaw as you tilt your head back. His voice is like molasses; soft but rough around the edges — sweet but dark with the huskiness of his lust. It’s getting harder for you to control this feeling now. You feel your legs tighten, instinctively trying to wrap yourself around his waist tighter. A hand rising from his broad shoulder to tangle in the platinum strands of hair at the nape of his neck, eliciting an approving grunt from the man. He watches you with awe and a hooded gaze as you give in to that feeling of helplessness once again.

“You feel so warm and wet, dripping all over that pretty pussy, drooling on my cock like that…you’ve been just as desperate as I have, umm? So lonely…you’ll never be lonely again, princess,” he promises hotly, groping his way up your thighs until he grabs your ass, thrusting slowly, deeply, brushing against your cervix each time.

“I’m going to fuck your ass like that someday.” He says casually with a sly smile as his fingertips slide along the crack of your ass, thrusting his cock into your pussy harder to show you what he means, making your breath shallow and your eyes widen. “I think I’ll do that next time indeed. Fill every tight little hole in your body. Mark every inch of your skin as mine.” 

“Oh, God -” You feel tears forming in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks as you squeeze them shut, shaking as he teases you with wicked words, his hands coming up to grip either side of your waist. “Stop, please.”

“Oh no, baby, I’m not stopping. Not now and not ever. I’m going to claim that body in every damn way I can. With my cock, my fingers, my tongue.” You moan and pull away from him, your cheeks red and wet, shaking your head in a mumbled protest that’s too weak to be taken seriously. There’s more pleasure on your face than fear. He chuckles. “Do you like that? Do you like the idea of ​​my tongue in that sweet pussy?”

Before you can think to deny it, his mouth crashes down on yours, rough and brutal, hungry. There’s blood on your tongue, you notice, the cut reopened in his greed, the taste ferrous and acrid in your mouth as his tongue slides inside — his, maybe, or yours, or both, you don’t know.

As quickly as it begins, it ends. Aemond pulls back enough to brush his lips against yours, sharing quick, wet breaths.

“Oh yes, you do. You love knowing that I want to lick that pussy until you come, once, twice, three times — until you squeal and beg me to stop. But I won’t. I’ll make you come as many times as I want, as many times as your body can take. And even then, even if you pass out from exhaustion, I’ll fuck you. Like a beautiful little sex doll.”

Amidst the sensual humiliation of his wanton words, you feel your back scraping against the wall; up and down, over and over. The grip of your fingers in his hair tightens and he growls in his throat, palming your ass to move it with more fervor. He holds his own body still, using only the strength of his arms hooked in the crook of your knees and his hands on your waist to move you up and down his cock.

His face, though it still manages to hold that cold, wicked smirk, is smudged with a soft blush across his cheeks and the bridge of the nose, the rest of his pale skin glistens slightly with sweat, and his good eye is dark with desire — the pupil so wide it almost completely overpowers the blue of his iris. And he’s beautiful like that; even with the prosthetic eye and the frightening scar. Beautiful and ethereal, completely belying his sick personality and unforgivable sins.

Through parted lips he gasps with effort and it takes a moment, but when he pushes you up again, your face completely implodes into flames as you realize he’s using you to masturbate. He’s doing exactly what he said he would, using you like a sex doll, a flashlight clenched around his cock.

His thrusting becomes faster and rougher as he grips your waist tighter between his broad palms, dragging your pussy down his cock with short strokes. Your own breaths shorten, becoming ragged sobs each time the fabric of his robe rubs against your sensitive clit. When he’s basically grinding your pussy against him, undulating your hips in a hurried back and forth, he leans down to press the forehead to yours. His heavy, cold gaze stays locked on yours through each drag. 

“That’s it. That’s it. Look at me. You’re so tight, so good. Keep looking at me. Good girl.” He punctuates each word with breathless slowness. Each guided movement of your hips is intentionally placed — rubbing your walls against his thick cock while simultaneously stimulating your clit against the mound of fabric of his tunic in a way he knows will send you over the edge.

Despite the order, your eyes grow heavy and fluttery, beginning to roll back as the muscles in your thighs and abdomen tense in preparation for the inevitable climax. That scary and wonderful cliff that taunts you in a messy way, approaching faster than you can understand.

A hard slap on your cheek brings you back.

“What did I just say, princess?” he growls, his voice rough with the effort of holding back his own desires. And your cheek stings where he’s hit you, glowing an even deeper shade of red, but you barely give it half a second’s attention — not when he’s looking at you like this; all breathless, sweaty lines and smoldering gaze.

“Keep your fucking eyes on me.” He releases your jaw with a warning jerk, sliding his hand down through your wet mess to find your swollen clit and circle the bud with his thumb, his other hand still tight around your waist. His body grinds into yours, flattening you against his lean muscles and the wall, slamming his hips into yours without pause.

You take a deep, shaky breath.

Your boots cross behind his back, skirt swinging at his waist with each thrust. And yet you do your best to hold Aemond’s obsessive gaze – unable to even name the intensity of the emotion swirling within you. The muscles in your thighs now tremble visibly, clenching tightly around his body in your impending release.

“Aemond – I need, oh, I can't…” You whisper, barely realizing what comes out of your mouth, a broken moan escaping along with the jumbled words, your entire body twitching under the expert assault of his thumb on your clit and his quick, relentless thrusts. You were close. So close. Balancing precariously right on the edge. And he knew it too. 

“That’s it, say my fucking name as you cum for me. Come on, do it now little girl.”

It happens quickly after that, relentlessly, your eyes trying to close without your permission, but you are obedient and keep them half-lidded as you stare at Aemond, a choked cry finally escaping your throat. 

“Aemond!”

With a determined growl, sweat dripping down his temples, he thrusts into you harder and harder until the tight coil snaps. Shockwaves of electric pleasure overwhelm you, forcing all the air from your lungs in a messy gasp. You shake as you come, clenching the fist against your attacker’s chest, nails digging into the roots of his silver hair, trying to ignore the stinging taste of shame as you find purchase in his body. 

“Look at me. Look at me, baby.” He pushes his forehead against yours, sending you a sly, proud smile as your eyes flutter and water with the effort of keeping them open through the climax. His pace quickens with the excitement of seeing your drunken gaze and flushed face.

His own release washes over him like the purest rush of insanity; brows furrowed as if he’s in pain, lips parted in a hoarse groan that raises every little hair on your body. His warm cum fills you, bubbling at the tight rims of the ring of muscle where his cock stretches you. He stays buried inside as his balls empty, his head finally tilting back and breaking intense eye contact as his lips release another long, satisfied groan.

When it’s all over, he slowly leans down to touch your foreheads once more, and you feel an overwhelming, incoherent wave of satisfaction when notice the muscles in his arms and fingers trembling where they touch your skin. 

“You’re mine,” he murmurs between labored breaths. “All mine.”

He babbles possessively, rolling his hips into you to prolong the intimacy, even as you feel him softening discreetly within your walls.

“I’ll burn the world for you, I’ll do anything to keep your eyes on me like this. I’ll kill as many as it takes to have you by my side.” His voice, husky and haunting, makes you shiver with horror — with heat.

You don’t think he needs your involvement in the story to fulfill the last part of his dark promise. Not with the previous list of confirmed murders or the blood that stains his clothes tonight. That stains your costume now too. But his words still send a swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach and, not for the first time, you find yourself questioning the integrity of your mental health.

He’s smiling at your flushed, uncomfortable features, swollen lips brushing against yours playfully as he catches the breath to say something else that will surely upset you deeply. Before he can, however, his broad body freezes against yours, whatever he was about to say abruptly dying on his tongue.

Like a tense and intriguing suspense, the two of you are slowly bathed in the garish red and blue lights that filter through the small bathroom window, overshadowing the soft purple lighting from before.

The police.

Just as the realization sets in, the sound of sirens is heard; loud and distinctive. And it is then, and only then, that you notice that there are no more sounds of music coming from downstairs.

When had it stopped?

Relief is the first thing you feel. Hope and security flicker in your chest until a new wave of tears blurs your vision. But the feeling quickly withers before another realization. The police, along with your college friends, were minutes away from finding out where and who you had been all this time. They would find Aemond, it was true. They would finally arrest the killer known as Ghostface. But they would also find you. You, abused, raped and humiliated.

God, could they deduce just by looking at you that, at some point during this violation, you had started to want this?

Your jaw is gripped by his firm fingers, making your wide, wet eyes focus on the man in front of you. He looks at you with such intensity, serious and analytical, and in that moment you are sure that he knows exactly what you are thinking.

“I know where every single one of your friends lives, what every single one of them does during the day — every damn minute of their activities is recorded for me,” he whispers slowly, sinking each word into your overworked brain to make sure you understand. “The same goes for your family members. I know where they live, who they are, and what they do. Dare to open your pretty little mouth to anyone about me and you’ll get one of their heads every time you open your dorm room door in the morning. I’ll even do the favor of gift wrapping it for you, baby.”

Your stomach lurches with sudden nausea, all the color draining from your face at the threat you know he wouldn’t hesitate to carry out if need be.

“I truly hope you won’t betray my trust, love. Like I said before, I don’t want to kill you.” He smooths his knuckles down your tear-stained cheek, softening his tone to something softer and gentler — yet equally terrifying. “But I’ll do it to someone you care about without a second thought. So don’t test me.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before he seals his lips on yours. Just a light, wet touch, more an intimate exchange of heated breaths than a kiss. With an approving grunt when you sigh and surrender to his touch, he pulls away.

Your shaky, weak legs give way as he leaves your body, and you slide down the wall in a confused, weeping heap until you’re sitting on the tiled bathroom floor.

Hovering above you, Aemond tucks his penis into the pants and fastens his belt, straightening the robes with a perfectly neutral expression and calm manner, as if at this very moment the cops aren’t searching the frat house for him. Long fingers casually grip the mask lying on the counter, giving you one last intense, appraising look, licking his lips slyly before covering his face.

That ghost mask is back then, cold and frightening, pulling the hood up over his head before bending down and holding the bloody kitchen knife in the palm of his hand. Black boots click on the tile floor as he turns back to you and heads for the door, casting a glance over his shoulder as he places hand on the doorknob.

“This won’t be the last time, princess. I’ll come back for you.” His voice is dark and muffled by the mask, sounding more like a threat to your life than a lover’s promise, especially now that he’s back in his ghostly, cruel persona. “Until then, try not to miss me too much, and of course, be on your best behavior.”

He leaves as disturbingly as he came, with a dark swish of his cloak and an amused chuckle, closing the door with a teasing gentleness — as if he’s trying not to scare you. You might even buy his act, if it weren't for all the psychological terror he's inflicted on you so far.

And then you find yourself alone in the bathroom once again, with nothing but your own shame and accusatory thoughts.

And that's exactly how the cops find you a few minutes later. Sitting on the tile floor, pale as death, your Sailor Mars costume stained with blood and throat marked from the cruel grip of your attacker's fingers. Your cheek still stings from the slap he gave you.

You think you can hide the finger marks on your thighs by deliberately tucking the legs in, taking the opportunity to keep the messy puddle of cum out of sight of the lawmen. But one of them still wraps his jacket around you in a gesture of solidarity as he leads you out, reciting kind words that, despite their intention, do nothing to actually calm you.

“Oh, thank God!”

You stagger back at the sudden hug Mako gives you as you exit the house, crossing the area marked off by yellow police tape. The officer next to you clucks his tongue in disapproval, but steps aside to offer the two of you some privacy.

“Someone called the police when they found the bodies on the next street. It all happened so fast. The party was going on and then everything turned into absolute chaos and I couldn’t find you anywhere!” She babbles quickly as pulls away from the hug, looking you up and down with her puffy, red eyes, her hands shaking where they are — clenched tightly on the arms of the police jacket you’re wearing, as if she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go. “W-when they said that you could be upstairs with him…I-I thought…fuck…I really thought—”

“I know. But I’m here now. And I’m fine.” You cut her off, wiping away your own tears as you try to give her a very unconvincing smile. Predictably, she doesn’t buy your lie, but doesn’t press it either.

“They couldn’t catch him, pumpkin…” she says slowly after a moment of silence, her face contorted in pain for you. “By the time they got upstairs, he’d already escaped. I'm sorry."

You want to tell her that you know that, you were there when he fled before could be caught. Before you can, however, the officer from before is back - this time accompanied by another, a tall, tired-looking man with a gray beard. The sheriff, you assume.

"If you don't mind, we'd like to ask you a few questions, miss." The older man grunts, looking like he wants to be literally anywhere else but here.

"She does, actually. Can't you see how she looks?!" Mako is quick to respond, leaning forward to position herself in front of you like a protective barrier. The officers look at her like she's a little girl throwing a tantrum, nothing but tired indifference on their faces.

"It's okay, Mako. I got it." You try to calm the situation, placing a hand on her shoulder to gently guide her to the side. "I'd rather do it now, actually. I just want to put this all behind me as soon as possible."

It's impossible to put this behind, but you don't say that part.

Mako holds your gaze for a few seconds, keeping such a watchful, worried glint in every expression on your face that, for a minute, you fear she might know exactly everything that happened just by that look. When she sighs and steps aside in reluctant surrender, you almost sigh along with her.

"Okay. But I won't go far, I'll be waiting for you right there."

You mumble an 'mkay' and she reluctantly walks away, not before casting a sharp glance at the two officers standing in the same position near you - who promptly ignore her silent attempt at a threat. When she finally walks away, you sigh, staring at the badge on the older man's chest for a few seconds as you prepare to craft a narrative of the facts that doesn't reveal anything about the killer's identity.

"Alright. What would you like to know, Sheriff Myers?"

Fortunately, the police in your town have never been the most diligent or perceptive, and while they may ask a few important questions here and there, they generally remain naturally ignorant to some confusing gaps in your version of events. You are careful to avoid saying anything about the sexual assault you suffered, opting to tell them only about the physical violence that they have inevitably noticed by now; the marks on your neck, wrists and the red slap on your cheek.

They accept your half-truths so easily that you would be offended if that wasn't exactly the goal. In the end, all that matters to them is the answer to one question:

"Did you get a look at his face? Skin color, hair, eyes... anything that might help us identify this fucker once and for all?"

And in that moment you think of Mako, her cheerful smile and irreverent attitude. You think of your parents, so safe and oblivious in your hometown. You think of the faces of every your family member, friend and colleague who could suffer an agonizing death at the hands of the killer if you dared to answer the wrong way.

"N-no, sir. I'm sorry, but no, I didn't see anything. He was completely covered the whole time, with gloves and a mask." You huddle deeper into the thick jacket over your shoulders, your arms wrapped around yourself.

The sheriff takes a deep breath, clearly disappointed at once again running in circles, but he doesn't press you on it. And after a few other less important questions, they both say goodbye with a standard guarantee of protection that you don't trust for a second.

They've barely moved away from you when your phone vibrates in the pocket with the warning of a new notification. After glancing over your shoulder in alarm to see if anyone was watching, you feel the heart race before you even reach for it, fingers already shaking with nervous anticipation, knowing exactly who the notification is from. With a shaky click of your thumb on the now mostly cracked and destroyed screen, the thing lights up for you:

--

Notification Center

2:23am - Unknown number

"Well done, little girl. You made me proud (and a little horny, I must admit) with all those pathetic little lies to the authorities. Keep being a good girl and everyone you care about will be safe. Scout's word.

We'll meet again sooner than you think.

A.T."

--

[dmitriene]

Hello! First of all, I wanna say, I'm a huge fan of your work. You have a beautiful writing style. Keep rocking it!

I just wanted to request something. I know it's not a character you usually write about, but can you try to write for Nikto please? Maybe a darker theme, as it suits the character better. Totally fine if you don't want to. Have a great day 🌸

i hope you would enjoy this work, i tried my best while writing about nikto for the first time!

cw: smut as always, mentions of nikto's disorder, sensitive descriptions.

nikto is a wolf, a predator, and what can be worser than an unhinged animal, completely fucked in the head, servicing on the battlefield after surviving something most people can barely comprehend, lurking out in the wild with teeth bared and ready to snap around something plump and malleable.

people talk, whisper, gasp, bypassing him, like rabbits through the bushes with soft paws, just so as not to fall under the chilling gaze of his heavy eyes, the only part that is seen from his entire face, because what he hides behind a mask is not for someone else's gaze, not for a tender stomach, or the bilious disgust will be instant.

nikto barely remember what it's like to be okay to communicate with others, after what he's been through, after his face has gone so disfigured to a state where even dogs won't bite, after he's started experiencing memory loss, whispering under his breath, feeling lost and a stranger, stuck in that derealization bubble, only he has become a companion to himself, and the voices in his head, all different, but equally buzzing, annoying.

you're not unlike any women he met through his whole life, and ain't that funny, how comically different you are, as if that's a trap, or, perhaps, another unfunny joke of his fucked head, of all the suddenly thrilling, barking voices inside, all those personalities, that claw and rip through to get on the surface so they could eat you alive, scare away until you're running and shrieking, just as any pretty doll he met before, but you don't.

nikto is surprised, or intrigued, he doesn't knows, the only thing he's sure about is that the thing that possesses his body, many of them, want to have you in every way, with your flesh between his teeth, with your cunt against his torn, ugly face, with his cock battering your insides while you moan, and jerk, and ask for more, hiccuping his name like something worth even being voiced out, and that's makes him crazy, because you give in to his deranged desires.

your pretty face ain't twists into a grimace at the sight of his own, there's no crease in between your eyebrow, not a single curl to your alluringly sweet lips, you trace your fingertips against the tissued, disfigured pieces of skin as if he's a porcelain, as if you can hurt him more than he is already, even though he can't feel anything no more, but your touch seem to bring out a rush of unfamiliar tingles, so warm, so tender, a feeling he nuzzles in like a dog he is.

when he snarls, more at the rattle in his head and ears than on you, you don't back off, don't tug your hand away, don't start trembling like a tiny, laughable prey, you only lean closer, cup each side of his face, uneven beneath your purely unstained palms, and initiate closer contact, until your warm breath ghosts over his ear, until you soothe, cooing at him as if he's a baby boy, a novel experience, as the voices shut down, his head no longer pounding as if ready to crack, everything around going quiet, while you stay.

nikto get's to kiss, nikto get's to grope, nikto get's to drool in every crook of your body while you scratch at the nape of his neck and look at him as if he hung the stars and moon up in the sky, you're strange, but he's stranger, so he takes what he can, what he deserved, your beckoning touches and your pitching, melodious voice and beautifully arching body, as he devours you and splits apart, always with permission.

he get's to fuck, an act he never even committed before, a connection that zaps up his spine with burning electricity, when the head of his cock, girthy and so big against your tiny hole, pushes in slow inside your completely drenched cunt, warm, rippling walls welcoming him inside, better than coming home, accommodating to the stretch carefully, steadily, even though his whole body trembles, drool dripping onto your bouncing tits, his face halfway buried in.

your legs spread wide, fragile ankles hooking over his lower back, the feeling grounding him, unexpectedly, and then you whimper and loop your clawing hands around his straining neck, and nikto's lean body starts sagging down, pining you, while thrusting with vigor, edging himself deeper, all the way in the clutches of your slippery cunt, bottoming out and snapping forward, chasing the warmth that suffuses his body, chasing the point where he'd pump you full and dripping of him.

so he could make you proud, so you'll stroke your hands along his back and look into his drooping baby blue eyes with a fondness that lights your whole face like a sun, rocking him to sleep with lulling, whispering syllables, letting him rest, sweaty, dirty, cum coated just as you, squishing you down into the rough mattress, and still, nonetheless, you kiss him all over and tell that you love, and nikto accepts, like a tamed thing, not a beast.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[naihvty]

my dearest, talented loz. can I pls request “if we were alone right now, what would you do to me? “ reader asking steve during a late night phone call 🤭

my love!! let's not acknowledge how long it's taken me to write this. i started, stopped for months then rushed and finished it this morning. I MISS AND LOVE YOU I HOPE YOU ENJOY <3333

best friend steve x reader phone call

word count: 2.4k

tags: nsfw! 18+, NO MINORS PLS, phone sex, steve being a horny fuck, reader is also a horny fuck but can you blame them, i'm not very good at thinking of tags, they are both in love with each other but they just don't know it, reader is female but no other description, not really proof read sorry xo

"It's late, Stevie I should probably go to sleep... I have work tomorrow," you huff as you adjust yourself in bed, snuggling further under the warmth of the covers in your cool bedroom.

"No no stay up with me, c'mon, you're not tired! Just a little longer!" Steve pleaded, trying not to sound too desperate by saying anything he possibly could to keep you on the phone.

He was in love with you. He knew it. Did you know it? Why would you. He was always stealing glances at you, whenever he physically could, eyeing up your frame, gaze lingering just a little too long on areas that friends shouldn't be looking at for a prolonged period of time.

Your gaze always seemed somewhere else. Anywhere else. He'd come to accept it really, keeping the fantasies playing out in his head just that. In his head. Countless scenarios where clothes were discarded on the floor, flushed skin on show, whimpers escaping your mouth, and all because of him. The things he could do to you, show you, make you feel. You had no idea how much he wanted you.

"Steve? You there?" The sound of your voice snapped him back into the 21st century.

"Yeah yeah, sorry. Yeah. I'm here. What was it that you said?" Steve rambled, the slight breathlessness in his voice not escaping your senses.

You wished you could see into Steve's brain sometimes. Be in there, think what he was thinking. You could sometimes hear the cogs turning in his head every time you caught him looking at you. You hope he didn't notice you staring back, when his attention was elsewhere. You couldn't let him know that all you wanted to do was stare at him. Drink him in. His hair, his eyes, the hair that peaked above his button up shirts that he wore to parties, where there was always one button undone too many.

You tried not to let yourself daydream for too long when you were around him, which was all the time, seeing as you were inseparable best friends. It was just too hard not to. Those big hands roaming around the curves of your body, that deep voice groaning and grunting in your ear as he bucks his hips into yours. Bad thoughts. VERY very bad. But that knowledge didn't stop them from happening.

"Whose the one that's not listening now, huh?" Steve teased, breaking your train of thought. Just as well, you could feel your underwear getting damper by the second.

"C'mon, what're you thinking about?" He probed.

You wish you could tell him, you really wish you could tell him. You just didn't realise you were mumbling out-loud to yourself.

"You wish you could tell me? C'mon sweetheart you know you can tell me anything. Safe space here. What's in that pretty head of yours?"

FUCK. You needed to stop doing that. Talking to yourself without even realising. One day it will get you into trouble. It kind of just did.

"Nothing! Nothing! I'm okay Stevie, sorry, what did you wanna talk about? You better think of something good to keep me awake, I told you, I'm getting tired!" You teased, trying your best to brush off the fact you might've just open a can of worms that you just couldn't face dealing with. Rejection, for starters.

"You are not getting out of this one. Tell me now before I come round and get it out of you in person. And you really don't want that. You know I'll win".

Fuck. You're fucked. You're utterly fucking fucked. You can't lie your way out, he knows you too well to see straight through you when you're avoiding something or not telling the truth. What do you even say? I was thinking of you Steve. I was thinking of you fucking me into tomorrow morning. God, you would die if you told him that.

"I'm putting my coat on! Tell me before I get in my car." Steve insists.

Maybe if you told him he wouldn't even believe you. Or he'd be so taken aback that he'd change the conversation, or even let you go to sleep.

"Uhhhh. You Stevie. I was thinking about you. Not in a bad way. God no, there's no way of thinking about you in a bad way. In a good way! But not a weird way. Just, you." You ramble. So much for keeping your fucking cool. Idiot.

"Me sweetheart? What're you thinking about me for?" Steve asks innocently, letting out a small chuckle. Good think you can't see the shiver that went down his spine hearing you say that he is at the centre of your thoughts.

You speak before you can think about forming a sensible reply.

"I always think about you Steve. You're my best friend. I see you every day, and you mean a lot to me. Is that a crime?" You huff, not realising you'd gotten so defensive.

"Woah woah woah. No need to get like that. My coat is off. I'm back in bed. Calm down honey." He soothes. You try not to imagine him in bed, shirtless, arm tucked behind his head showing off his large muscles. You fail. You rub your legs together as you feel a throb in your core. There is no way you should be doing this, or feeling like this while on the phone with Steve.

"Sorry, sorry Stevie." Something aches in your chest as you realise once again that your feeling will never be reciprocated.

"You're doing an awful lot of shuffling round there honey, you okay? Something got you worked up?" Steve jokes, pulling a quiet gasp from you as you freeze in place in your bed. You didn't even realise that you'd been moving that much by subconsciously trying to get some sort of friction between your legs to soothe the ache that the images in your head had created.

Steve's imagination runs wild as the tension over the phone could be cut by a knife. He pictures you in bed, in your skimpy pyjamas and he wishes to the gods that you'd be touching yourself whilst talking to him. He's had phone sex a few times before with other girls, but it'd just turned out badly with awkward silences from bad, but desperate attempts at connection.

"Do you really want to know what's on my mind?" You blurt out. What are you doing. What the FUCK are you doing. You did NOT agree to confessing your feelings and darkest desires to Steve Harrington, your best friend, over the phone at 11 o'clock at night. Or any time of night for that matter.

"Shoot honey. Safe space here. Ya got nothing to worry about." Steve's soothing tone runs a shiver down your spine.

You can't hold back any longer. You've wanted to tell him for such a long time. Now or never.

"I like you Steve. I like you, okay? And I know you don't like me back but I don't want to ruin our friendship so I shouldn't even be telling you this but I can't take it any longer. You drive me FUCKING crazy okay? I just wanna, I just wanna..." Words start to fail you. Oh god. Oh god. What have you done. You have ruined everything. And all you can hear on the other line is silence.

Steve's head spins whilst silently willing you to finish your sentence. God, he wants you. He wishes he had kept his coat on and got in his car to get the confession out of you in person. He probably would have pinned you to the bed and taken you right there and then. He can feel his underwear shifting as his cock hardens. He's past the point of thinking straight now.

"If we were alone right now, what would you to do me?" He asks softly.

You splutter as you take in the words he's just asked you.

"Wh-, what?"

"If we were alone right now, what would you do to me?" he repeats. You can't gather anything from his tone of voice.

"Stevie are you sure-"

"Answer the question."

"Oh-okay." You whisper.

Where do you even begin. What wouldn't you do to him. What the fuck is even happening. Does this mean he feels the same?

"I would, uhhh. I would. S-Stevie I can't even fucking think straight. I can't string a sentence together. Wh-what would you do to me? Please. I need to know." Your voice trembles. Your thoughts are a blur. All that you know is that you need Steve. You need him there. You need his voice, his touch, everything.

"You sure you wanna know sweetheart? I've known what I would do to you for a pretty long time. Not sure if you're ready to hear it." He retorts, his voice dripping with honey and sweetness.

"Please, Stevie. Please tell me. I'll do anything, please just tell me. I can't take it anymore." You beg.

"Okay baby, okay. I'll tell you. But I want you to touch yourself while I tell you, okay? I want you to feel good. Don't hold back. I wanna hear you. Hear how good you feel while I'm telling you what I'd do. What I wish I was doing to you right now, okay?" Steve gently instructs. He's barely comprehending what's going on. It all must be a dream. The best dream he's ever had. He'd happily stay in this dreamland forever.

You whimper a response back, which he takes as a yes.

You slowly snake your hand down into your pyjama shorts.

"Stevie I'm so wet. Wish you could feel it. Want you here."

"I know, honey. But just relax. It's gonna feel so good, okay?" He reassures. All you can do is nod to yourself and slowly peel your panties away from your slick cunt.

"I'd make you feel so good, baby. If I was there with you. Just imagine. Close your eyes. I'd start with my fingers. Just one, don't wanna stretch you out too quickly. I just know your pussy is tight. So, so tight. Need to stretch you out before evening thinking about giving you my cock. Don't wanna hurt you".

Your finger slowly rubs circles around your clit. Your moans are loud already, any previous embarrassment has completely left your body filling you with only want, and need. Your eyes flutter shut as you imagine Steve in front of you, towering over you with his strong presence. That it's his hand instead of yours that's making you feel so good.

"God you sound wet baby. You're this wet already? And I'm not even there with you? And I've not even got to the best part. I bet you taste fucking incredible. Don't know how many times I've thought about making you come undone for me. Screaming my name. Just want you to feel good baby, want you to be mine. Wonder how many fingers you could take? I bet even two would be a stretch for you.”

You whimper at the thought. Whilst it always feels good when you touch yourself, you can make yourself cum no problems, you just know that being touched by Steve would be on a different level entirely. Those big hands roaming your body, thick fingers stretching you out, aching but it such a delicious way.

“God Stevie, feels good. Feels so good, I wish you were here, I-, wish you were touching me. Want you to kiss me, and touch me, a-and, god please I’ve wanted this for so long”, you babble. So many thoughts consumed your head you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Steve couldn’t fucking think straight. His cock was hard, bursting at the seams of his underwear, straining, begging to be released. Hearing your breathy whimpers and moans, envisioning you touching yourself was riling him up in a way that he didn’t think possible. Yeah, he’d been with his fair share of girls, but no one made him feel like this, the way that you did.

He snakes a hand down to his boxers, palm rubbing his cock gently over the top of them. He stifles a moan as he feels pre-cum leaking out of his pink, swollen tip.

“How’s it feel, honey? Talk to me. You wanna know what I’m doing? Wish you could feel how hard I am, fuck. So fucking hard already and I’m not even there in person with you. I’m rock-fucking solid, baby”.

Your fingers leave you and come up to circle your clit. You’ve never felt this wet before, Steve has a way with words that was driving you insane.

“Feels good, Stevie, so good… just wish it was you touching me, please, I need to feel it, feel your fingers inside me,” you moan, a delicious familiar feeling rumbling in your lower stomach. Not yet, you thought, you didn’t want this to end.

Steve lets out a groan at the sound of your desperation, wrapping a hand around his thick shaft, slowly starting to pump up and down.

“Wish your hand was round my cock, baby, just know it feels so much better than mine. You want that, honey? You wanna wrap your hand round my cock? Wanna feel your pretty mouth on it, too. Just know it feels good.” Steve mumbles, his already jumbled thoughts turning even further into mush as he keeps a steady pace fisting his cock. He’s embarrassed to admit he feels his release building. You’ll be the death of him, the absolute death of him. How will he last more than 5 seconds inside you when even just the thought of you has him nearly cumming in under a minute?

“I’m close, Stevie, so close, feels so good,” you whimper. “Are you close? Can I cum, please? Wanna cum together, wanna hear you, please Steve…”

“Fuck, yeah I’m close, baby. Want you to come for me, wanna hear you scream my name. And the next time you do, just know it’ll be because I’m there, fucking you. That want you want?”

You nod, words failing you as the coil in your stomach starts to unravel. “Fuck, Stevie, yes! I-I, fuck!” You wail, clenching around nothing as your orgasm blinds you.

Steve follows suit soon after, ropes of his seed spilling onto his chest, hot breathy moans escaping his lips, whispering your name as he rides out the high.

Reality settles back in after a few moments of silence, coming back down from cloud nine to the quiet on both ends of the phone.

“Well, fuck. Guess we aren’t just friends anymore, honey.”

[horny-marbles]

Hey!!! I luvvv your writing!!!!

Do you perchance have any head cannons on if the proxies would be into period sex and how into it that would be?

(Sry if this is like too icky 😭)

icky?? baby the loml is a cannibal demon.. period sex is my middle name fr

cw for raunchy descriptions i guess? xd

- toby fucking LOVES it. loves how sensitive you are, loves how you always jolt when he bottoms out because your cervix is lower and he feels 10x bigger—he does NOT let you live it down whatsoever, he's constantly grinning and grunting cocky shit like "Yeah?? L-love gettin' wrecked buh-b-by this fat ff-fuckin' cock baby? Yeahh y-you do," and "W-what's wrong?? Dick t-too big? Huh? S-say it, say y-y-you can't t-take it." loves how wet and messy it gets. loves the way it stains his dick, so much so that he pulls out every minute to gawk at the red ring around the base. he's a real dickhead about your mood swings—doesn't make you feel dramatic or anything, but he loves to use it as an excuse to fuck it out of you. also definitely cringes at the thought of eating you out when you're bleeding, but the moment you start making out and dry humping he's diving between your legs open mouthed and drooling like it's not the definition of hypocrisy

- brian has 0 issues with period sex (says "a knight is never afraid of bloodying his sword" @erenasia lmfao), but he never initiates because he learned early on it can get painful—so it's up to you to jump his bones lol. he'll always fuck you slow and deep, always focusing on how you feel, always the "Right here? Like this? Yeah?" guy. he goes 100% pliant for you because he wants you to feel good before anything else, so you always end up being a pillow princess more often than not. no problem getting his fingers messy, but he draws the line at head lol

- kate has 0 fucks to give the moment she sets her mind on making you cum, so if you play shy with her about being on your period, she'll side eye you into next week and spread your legs wider. "You're acting like I don't get crotch murder every month too." she's not a huge fan of the taste, but will eat you out every time—loves meeting your glazed eyes and pulling back just to grin with bloody teeth and lips at you. knows it does something to you (self inserting here SORRYYYYY LMFAO), so the aftertaste is worth it. she'll ALWAYS tease you for being messy, but she'll fuck you harder in the same breath like that's the whole point anyway

- tim doesn't like it whatsoever lol. not that he's squeamish—it's not the blood itself, it's just the mess it makes. he'll still do it because you're his though, and what kind of man would he be if he got his hands bloody for a faceless tree and wouldn't get his dick messy for his partner? but you can expect little to no foreplay (aside from making out and dry humping if you count it) and a real gruff dad sigh if blood gets on the sheets (inevitable). he does enjoy seeing you overwhelmed though, and loves how hot and wet your cunt feels around him, so really, most of the time he'll get so into it that the whole eye roll at the beginning is completely pointless

[loneworldgazer]

Hentai tropes that makes you go Incognito type shit

cont: jjk men as weird hentai tropes but I get a little creative instead of them being corny and noncon

pairings: Toji x reader, Choso x reader, Gojo x reader

a/n: this isnt depressed reader x anybody guys I was bored so this is what came out. Minors, be careful what you read online. I am NOT responsible if you fucked yourself over because whatever you read from me. Also I don't condone any bad actions okay, I'm a weirdo with morals guys

Writing has gotten tiring tbh because I can't sit up for many hours because of college so I'll take my sweet ass time making fics this sem break

tags: pervy, cheating in toji's (on the reader's side), onahole use for Choso, Choso and Gojo's are low-key pervy, small descriptions of smut or just nsfw drabbles and just like hentai, all scenarios end after three minutes

Toji: the debt collector/NTR

Your poor, stupid s/o had gambled away their money in secret and Toji was the man they sent out for these types of things. Threatening life, torture was too overrated anyways to make clients cough up cash so loan sharks get a little more creative when collecting pocket money.

"'Scuse me, are you Shinji's?"

A broad man who wore a hoodie had approached you unceremoniously but you knew was sleazy from the way he held that letter in his hand. You had your fair share of odd people coming to you whether it was to serenade or some freak you didn't know that sits at the back at your work.

Crunching down on the candy you were eating, it slowly turned bitter with the zeros you were seeing on the paper. The cold autumn air swept through your face and that cold eyes of yours glaze over but you barely reacted.

"Again?"

Who knew he would be sitting with the spouse of his client over hot tea and little cakes you can pop into your mouth. The ring on your finger does not hold any meaning anymore with what you've heard.

He seen countless of tired eyes staring at him but yours burnt through his skull. It wasn't just a challenge, it was like you were trying to eat him alive; the eyebags added onto that look. It was urging him to spill over quickly.

He explained the details, money and whatnot that you had to earn by the end of the month which made your eyes begin to linger anywhere else but the letter he placed down. You were obviously disconnected from his words that he kept quiet to make sure you were listening but alas, you were lost in the clouds. He reached out for the cake you were currently eating and you poke at his fingers with your fork.

"You know what I should do for revenge, Fushiguro?"

He blinks, reaching over for a different pastry. The flaky crust crumbles under his rough fingers.

"You."

He crushes the puff pastry, white cream dripping down his thumb as he looked at your fiery gaze and lick up the sweetness with a teasing grin.

---

Your partner should be worried that you weren't home and they get more worried when a file is sent to them by you at the crack of dawn. It was unnamed and the cold side of your bed gets colder, clicking on it with a gulp.

What they didn't expect was you covering the camera while this strange man.. wait, it can't be. Toji had you bent over, clasping the camera and letting your fingers brush over it so Shinji could get confused as to what was being shown. That diamond ring of yours shone bright in this specific angle and once your hand was peeled back by Toji, Shinji had this bad headache immediately.

Your slutty face was on camera, tongue out and sweaty like this wasn't the first round you were on. Reaching a high fever pitch scream, the man from behind had pressed your face down on the table so that shit eating grin could be seen when you had creamed all over the man they thought they wouldn't have to worry about ever.

Little huffs of "..faster, faster" were burnt into that tiny brain of his when Toji pounded you to hell and focused on deepening his thrusts into your wetness. He pulled off the rubber that was filled with semen, showing Shinji the multiple used up ones tied salaciously around your thighs. The ravenette reach for god knows what number condom he ripped off to put around that mushroom tip of his.

His thick cock kept on abusing your hole, picking up your head from the wood so you could say a few words to Shinji.

However, there was no words exchanged instead a text that made their face go pale and the expression of pure pleasure had fucked them up.

"Watch from the very top of the file."

Choso: Magical onahole

All Choso had was five bucks and a dream ever since attending college, all because of his extracurricular activities but nonetheless, this sketchy website was one of the things where he (half) shamelessly filled in.

"What's their last name?" "Picture?" "What colour is their pubic hair?"

These questions get uncomfortable to answer and even if he doesn't know he used his common sense but that only made him blush even harder. He hadn't done much pervy things in the past and now anyways but this might be the most horrid thing he's ever done. He assumed his friend must be pranking him because this was too good to be true but what made it worst was the review pictures.

They look so authentic and erotic, there's no way this would be edited to the max with 72 reviews for this type of website. Hell, he shouldn't get so hard when his mouse hovered over the Finish option and groaning when the website informs him that his order will arrive in three days.

You were his longtime crush and he was a tad shy to approach you properly. It's just so hard to socialize without popping a boner when you speak to him. He has auralism just because of you and he was deep into asmrs but he'd never find a voice like yours ever. He'd lose his mind more if this supposed onahole could speak, he'd cum from that alone.

---

After three days, he had gotten a heart attack. You had approached him when he was about to open his locker. He can't help but stare at you, fixing you with a steely look when he's nervous. Thankfully, you don't take notice and held out his pencil case, He left it in the lecture hall and you came rushing to give it to him. It was so caring of you that it didn't register to him that as he opened the locker, a blatant box of the onahole that he ordered was winking up at him.

He quickly slammed his locker, sweat slipping down his forehead.

"Are you okay?"

No, he might bust if you get worried about him and he shakes his head. He assures you he's okay, with that he also convinced himself that he was okay and swallowed. You giggle, pointing to the library and saying you had to go to your friends now.

In a daze, he nods and you hurry away for your session.

He was so gonna kill his friend.

---

He sat in his usual spot in the library, obscured by the shadows and out of the range of the camera. Around this time, couples would be here to hook up but luckily none decided to fuck here and he sits. With his luck, you were directly sitting in front of him miles away but he could clearly see your smiling face.

Now, this was the next craziest thing he's going to do and he undo his trousers and peeled open the box.

The onahole he was looking at was your exact body type and was this how you look like underneath? He brushed his thumb over your tummy and you flinched. He gulps, that was a coincidence, right? The girl you were with was probably playing footsies and his thumb trails lower. Boldly, he rubs at your hole. This was you but it wasn't you but it was you, his cock twitches. He looks up and you were covering your mouth with the sleeve of your sweater and he couldn't mess around anymore.

Gently, he preps the onahole since the website did explain its terms and conditions but it's not like he read everything; his brain short circuited when it mentioned some sort of transmission waves in the toy. He lewdly slid his tongue in, rubbing it in the toy's walls and was surprised when it starts slicking up. He ate this toy out even though it looked ridiculous that he was suckling off silicone in the library at 2p.m. in the afternoon.

Your friends slipped away to buy pop and when you're all alone, you shakily rested yourself against the table.

What he didn't know was how you were in bliss. What was this mystery sensation you were feeling, some slithery mystery tongue deep in your hole? Did you picked a good spot in the library? You didn't move from this specific spot at all and this phantom thing playing with you gets bolder. Tears form at your eyes when you felt two fingers deep in, resisting the urge to moan out in the library and you were soaked.

When something bigger starts to poke at your hole, you knew this seat was the luckiest place you planted your ass on.

Gojo: Invisible Man

The powers of nerdery had blessed him because of his infatuation with hentai he picked up after a rough day of work. He found some odd object on the way home and he was suddenly invisible. He tested a lottttt of freaky stuff when he puts this power on but this time he's going to test it on you.

Fridays were dinner dates he self proclaimed between you and him and his place was next. He felt so fidgety and excited, he was gonna suprise you with this and freak you out. That mischief of his made him rub his hands together.

He puts the trinket in his pocket and watches himself vanish to the environment. Proudly staring into the mirror, he sits on the couch and waits for you to come home. On time, you had made it unlocking the door to his place and calling out for him.

He wanted to giggle like a little Japanese schoolgirl (get the ref) when you were searching for him throughout the house and he slowly stood up from the couch when you stood in front of the TV. He licked his lips, seeing that relaxed face of yours when you stare into nothing. He gets up in front of you, holding his breath. Gojo didn't know that being invisible comes with staring at your pretty face as it blinked away at the sleepiness that dared cross your expression the more he didn't appear right around the corner.

Gojo holds your face and you freak out, lurching back to whatever sensation holds you. It snapped you out of your daze when his hand tickles at your chest.

Oddly silent at this ghost who was feeling up on you, he took it as a sign and brushes down your body. Man if you ever did face a ghost with him around, he wouldn't even let that ghost touch your skin this close but thankfully, it's him being the ghost.

His warm hands go down into your shirt and rubs at your skin, he couldn't resist hugging you and lifting you up to try to make you panic. Surprisingly, a giggle fell from your lips.

"Being invisible doesn't make your shadow go away... Satoru?"

He stopped, plopping you down and looking at the wall behind him and his lanky self was plastered into the wall and he covered his lips almost dramatically.

"Oh my, who would know I'd be caught so early?"

He wasn't even shameful in the very least, disappointed that a pervy phantom groping you after work wasn't a tale you would tell him at dinner. A small grin curves your mouth and you fell back on the couch and his dick jumped when you spread those legs of yours.

You urge him to continue his ghost activities with your feet trailing his invisible leg, wanting the adventurous feel of not knowing where he's touching you once you look away from the wall.

He was given the biggest opportunity of fun.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Sweet Reunion

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: fluff, smut, high school crushes to lovers au

description: your best friend since high school is getting married, throwing a lavish wedding in a private resort on the bahamas. a week of having fun, drinking cocktails, eating nice food and enjoying the luxurious resort await for you. the only problem is, you don't have a plus one. your friend has an idea that just might light up some old forgotten flames.

word count: 14.4k

warnings: switch!reader and switch!hyunjin, multiple sex scenes, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), smut with feelings, fingering, creampies, oral (f and m receiving), shower sex, lots of praise and pet names, reader and Hyunjin are in love fr, squirting, face fucking, brief foot job and foot massage (lmk if i missed something)

important: for people with thalassophobia there's a scene of a night swim in the ocean

a/n: reader is depicted as chubby and with tan skin but you can imagine yourself however you want to!

i wanted to write romantic and infatuated hyune, hope you enjoy!🫶🏻

also sorry if the ending seems rushed asjksls

~check out my: Masterlist

"Look how pretty they came out!"- your best friend Nicki practically vibrates with happiness as she hands you her wedding invitation, wrapped in a baby blue envelope, gold details etched into the expensive material.

"It's beautiful, Nicki."- you smile.

"Open it, open it!"- she almost knocks the table over with how jumpy her legs are.

You chuckle at her giddiness and carefully open up the sealed envelope. The paper inside is also nice and feels expensive under your fingers, and golden letters are engraved into it, inviting you to witness the happiest day for Nicki and Josh, who've been high school sweethearts and your best friends for years.

You were more than happy to be a part of their beautiful love story, but you can't lie and say you weren't at least a little bit jelaous. You were still single, a few of your relationships never too serious, never growing into something more. Coming home to an empty apartment wasn't horrible since you didn't mind being alone but sometimes you needed comfort and arms wrapped around you, someone to be there for you and tell you that feeling sad and lonely sometimes is okay and normal.

But, you didn't want to wallow in your loneliness and bring down Nicki, even though you were pretty sure almost nothing could bring her down in this moment, in fact, you felt like you have to hold onto her so she doesn't fly up into the sky like a helium balloon with how excited she is.

"They really came out beautiful. You always had an eye for aesthetic stuff like this."- you smile at your friend.

"Thank you. For everything, you know. You helped me a lot with the wedding, and in general. I'm happy to have you as my maid of honor and I wouldn't dream of choosing anyone else for that."- she says as she holds your hand.

"God damn it Nicki, don't make me cry now."- you chuckle squeezing her hand.

"Sorry, but you already know the both of us will be like waterworks on my wedding. Better to get a head start already, hm?"- she jokes and both of you laugh.

"Also, I know you were worried about your plus one and not wanting to be dateless at the wedding."- she adds after your fit of laughter. "But you don't have to worry anymore."

"What? What did you do?"- you narrow your eyes at her.

"Well... I might've invited Hyunjin to be your plus one."- she smirks.

"Hwang Hyunjin?! The Hwang Hyunjin from high school?"- you start freaking out immediately.

"You're still in contact, right?"- she asks.

"Well, we text sometimes for birthdays and Christmas, and like each other's posts on Insta. You do know I had the biggest crush on him, right?"

"I do, that's why I asked him."- your friend wiggles her eyebrows.

"And he's okay with that?"- you swallow, butterflies swarming in your stomach at the thought of Hyunjin, something you haven't felt for years.

"He sounded happy to me."- Nicki keeps smirking.

"You actually called him?"- you chuckle in disbelief.

"Josh and I still talk to him sometimes too. I was gonna invite him anyway. So why not as your plus one?"

"I will literally faint when I see him in person."- you say.

"Oh, I hope you don't because he's walking towards us right now."- your friend announces, waving as the door of the diner open.

"He- what?!"- you snap your head towards the sound and see Josh walking with Hyunjin, both of them laughing.

Your jaw collides with the floor as you stare at your high school crush, you can't believe that he looks even more beautiful than he did back then. You're suddenly self-aware, cursing Nicki in your mind for bringing him without telling you first because you didn't even put on any makeup and it's unfair that he looks so good effortlessly, like it's normal and casual to roll out of bed looking like a god. Nothing is normal and casual about that. You also hate your choice for an outfit, only wearing some stupid old t-shirt and a pair of jeans you deemed clean, running out of your apartment this morning to what you thought was just a coffee with your best friend.

"Oh, hello Hyunjin!"- Nicki stands up and hugs him, patting his back.

"Hi, darling."- Josh smiles and Nicki gets instant heart eyes, even after so many years they were still in love with each other like they've literally just met.

"Hi, baby."- she cooes at him as they peck each other's lips shortly.

You stand up awkwardly, ready to shake Hyunjin's hand but he smiles sweetly at you and pulls you into a hug.

"It's so nice to see you, y/n."- he says as he wraps his arms around you and you swear you've stopped functioning. You barely register lifting your arms up and returning the hug. Hyunjin smells so nice, and despite the cologne he wears you can smell that distinct scent of him that made you feel drunk whenever he got closer to you in high school.

It's like you're 16 again, stealing glances at your crush during class, hoping he'll say hello to you in the halls, hoping you'll sit next to him during lunch. The nights you spent daydreaming about holding his hand, kissing his lips, the diary you kept that's full of Hyunjin's name and little hearts around it, all the memories flood back to you so vividly and you feel giddy and embarassed as you lean back.

Hyunjin still wears the sweet smile he always does, and you can see the tips of his ears reddening as his eyes take you in.

"It's nice to see you too."- you manage, your voice almost breaking from nervousness.

"This feels like high school, doesn't it?"- Nicki claps excitedly as the four of you sit down.

"Except I don't have the embarassing bangs I thought were the coolest shit ever back then."- you sigh, your cheeks warming up under Hyunjin's gaze that hasn't left you since he walked in.

"I thought they were cute."- Hyunjin says and you chuckle, your heart fluttering.

"And I got rid of my braces. Those were a pain in the ass."- Nicki sighs.

You spend at least an hour reminscing together, about your teachers, the shenanigans you got into, the first time you got drunk, gossip about people you knew from back then and you can't believe just how much of those memories somehow involve Hyunjin.

You're thankful for your friends as they made your high school experience less hard and embarassing, and more fun and filled with positive memories you can always think back on with fondness.

"Well, you two feel free to stay here but Josh and I have some more wedding stuff to get to. So, I'll text you later y/n."- Nicki winks at you and you wish you could convey through your eyes just how panicked you are to be left alone with Hyunjin already.

You feel awkward when they leave, and as you look up at Hyunjin he suddenly seems shy too as his eyes flutter away and then back to you again multiple times, his cheeks rosy.

"So, we didn't really manage to catch up."- he starts. "What do you do?"- he asks.

"Oh, I'm a veterinarian."- you say and Hyunjin smiles.

"You always wanted that. I'm glad you made your dream come true. Although, I had no doubts that you wouldn't."- he says, looking at you fondly and you melt into the chair you're sitting on.

"Thank you, really."- your face is warm again. "What about you?"

"I'm a painter. And a photographer. Mostly doing comissions and sometimes events."- he says shyly, like he's cautious not to sound like he's bragging.

"Look at you! You also made your dreams come true."- you say, smiling at him.

"Eh, I'm far from that. I still need to make a name for myself. I wish to own a gallery one day too."- Hyunjin says.

"You're being modest. Not many artists can say they live from their art. Plus, I believe you'll make it. I always did."- you confess, your heart hammering in your chest.

"T-thanks for believing in me."- Hyunjin smiles sheepishly. The tension between the two of you feels tangible, like you can cut through it with a knife.

"Thanks for agreeing to be my plus one."- you chuckle embarassingly.

"Oh, well it's my pleasure."- Hyunjin shifts in his chair, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

This is going to be interesting.

-

Nicki calls you that afternoon excitedly asking for details of your "date" with Hyunjin.

You tell her it wasn't a date, and after you tell her what the two of you talked about you almost shriek loudly into the receiver when she informs you that Hyunjin and you would be sharing a suite at the resort.

Nicki invited around 200 guests to her wedding which you thought was too much, but it's not your place to comment on it. If she wants to throw a big lavish wedding, she should do what her heart desires. But only about 20 of the guests, including hers and Josh's immediate family and closest friends were invited to come a few days earlier and enjoy the pre-wedding activities and the luxurious resort fully.

This ofcourse includes you and your plus one, with whom you'd be sharing the suite.

"And you didn't tell me this earlier because?"- you pace around your living room.

"Because I knew you'd be freaking out."- she laughs.

"I'm not freaking out."- you say, trying to sound calm.

"Yes, you are."- Nicki chuckles.

"Yes, I am! You want me to basically live with Hyunjin for almost a week?!"

"Y/n, this is a great chance for igniting some old flames. Obviously everyone knows you two were head over heels for each other except the two of you. Which is so funny in retrospect. Like how you'd stare at Hyunjin and sigh dreamily. And then he would stare at you every time you looked away. We actually had bets on who'll make the first move."- Nicki tells you and you can't help the chuckle that escapes your lips at the silliness from high school.

"I guess all of you lost because neither of us made a move. I didn't think he ever saw me that way. He's you know... Hyunjin. And I'm me."- you sigh, sitting down on your couch.

"What is that even supposed to mean bestie? Don't start with the pity party because Hyunjin would literally kiss the ground you walk on even now. Didn't you see the way he was looking at you?"- Nicki says.

"Don't exaggerate! I did see it but maybe he was looking at me like that because he didn't see me in a long time and-"

"Y/n, face it. Hyunjin and you have some feelings left from high school that need to be explored. Don't feel nervous and trust me. As soon as we come to the beautiful resort, as soon as you drink your first cocktail and take a swim in the ocean, you'll be seeing things differently. You need to loosen up. We all do."- Nicki sighs happily.

"I hope you're right. I'm honestly kinda excited."

"You better be more than kinda excited for my wedding!"- Nicki threatens you jokingly.

"I'm beyond estatic for you."- you chuckle, shaking your head even though she can't see you.

-

You can't sleep the night before the flight to the Bahamas. You checked your suitcase like a hundred times, making sure you packed everything you'd need for the trip.

You decided to also pack some cute lingerie just in case and since it was the Bahamas and you were basically gonna let loose as your best friend said, you packed the skimpiest bathing suits and the shortest dresses you had. Hoping in your mind, Hyunjin would be the one to take them off of you.

You slap yourself internally, annoyed at how far you're already thinking about Hyunjin in all kind of unholy scenarios when the two of you had barely just begun hanging out again.

You toss and turn in bed in anticipation, unable to sleep almost all night, your alarm blasting at 6am. You arrive at the airport feeling like a truck ran you over and meet up with Nicki and Josh, and their family.

Hyunjin joined you not too long after you came and again he looked like a model for a luxury brand who just woke up looking perfect. You felt a bit embarassed but what was making you even more nervous is that he hasn't taken his eyes off you yet again.

You made small talk while waiting for the plane, like there wasn't a break in your communication since high school ended. Being next to Hyunjin and talking to him felt so natural and weirdly normal.

Sitting in the plane next to Nicki and a few other close friends, you listened to music and daydreamed about all the possible romantic scenarios that could happen between you and your high school crush.

You were ready for almost anything.

-

As soon as you leave the airport and arrive at the resort, you already start feeling like another person. The air is different, better, more fresh. Everything looks more vibrant than the dull city and the resort looks expensive as fuck and you feel excited to be at a place like that, knowing that even with your decent pay you could never afford something like this, especially for a huge wedding.

Not that you wanted a huge wedding like your friend did, on the contrary, you'd rather have a small and intimate ceremony with just a few people who matter the most to you.

You scoff at yourself, thinking about a wedding when you can't even have a serious relationship.

"What is it?"- Hyunjin appears next to you with a smile and you shake your head quickly, cheeks heating up from how close to you he's standing, his shoulder brushing yours.

"Nothing, just thinking how expensive this place looks."

"Probably costs an arm and a leg."- Hyunjin nods, looking around.

The staff welcomes you, taking your luggage and bringing it to your rooms, with Nicki and Josh at the front, probably making sure that everything is okay with the reservations.

"Your suite is number 14."- Nicki strides towards you with a keycard, a smirk on her face as she looks between you and Hyunjin.

"Thanks."- you chuckle at her expression as you grab the keycard.

"We're gonna have so much fun! We should all freshen up and then meet up for lunch."- Nicki smiles at you and Hyunjin, and your other friends who are all couples.

Everyone agrees to meet up in the lobby in an hour and you make your way to the suite with Hyunjin.

The walk is comfortably silent but your heart is beating loudly in your ears. Being alone with Hyunjin and a bed brings all kinds of dirty thoughts to your mind.

As soon as you walk in, both you and Hyunjin gasp. The suite isn't just a room, it's like a small apartment. There's a huge bathroom, kitchen, living room, balcony and a jacuzzi in the yard.

"This is insane."- you whisper in disbelief.

"I've always wanted to go to a place like this."- Hyunjin admits.

"Me too, honestly. Like I'm not that fancy as a person but just sometimes you wanna drink expensive champagne and sit in a jacuzzi, you know?"- you say and Hyunjin laughs.

"Ah, to be rich and without worries."- he sighs dramatically as you two look around, finding your luggage neatly placed next to the closet in the bedroom.

"Well, we can pretend we're that while were here."- you say and Hyunjin agrees with you.

Both of you start unpacking as you glance at the bed, it's a decent size to where both of you would fit and it makes something stir in your gut. Hyunjin notices you staring at the bed.

"If you're uncomfortable, I will sleep on the couch, I really don't mind."- he smiles at you.

"What? No way, I'll sleep on the couch."- you say and he snorts.

"There's no way I'd let you do that. I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing you're cramped on that couch, no matter how soft it looks."- he says and you feel your face heating up again.

You can't believe the words that come out of your mouth next.

"We can share the bed."

Hyunjin looks surprised, his eyes widdening and lips falling open silently as he tries to answer. His cheeks are pink as he smiles.

"Alright. If you're okay with that, I'm okay with it too."- he says.

Both of you continue unpacking and talking and Hyunjin insists you take a shower first while he waits like the gentleman he is.

You grab your shower stuff and a change of clothes and head for the bathroom.

As soon as you walk into the huge shower, you're confused. The shower looks more like a spaceship with buttons you don't understand, it's fancier than any shower you ever used you have no idea how to turn it on.

You play on luck and press a button, making hot water spray over you and you shriek as it burns your skin, quickly turning it off by pressing the same button.

"Y/n, are you okay?!"- you hear Hyunjin's muffled voice on the other side of the door.

"Ugh, yeah, just a sec!"- you call out, walking out of the shower and grabbing the robe that the resort staff left in the bathroom.

You quickly put it on, tying it and trying to cover up as much as you can before you open the door.

Hyunjin's face becomes deeply red as he gives you the elevator eyes, taking your appearance in.

"This is embarassing but I don't know how to turn on that shower."- you say quietly as Hyunjin stands there, catching flies with his mouth open, eyes lingering on your cleavage.

"Oh. I'll- I'll check it out."- he says and you step aside, letting him come in.

It's awkward as he fiddles with the buttons while you peer at what he's doing, standing behind him on your tippy toes.

He presses a few buttons and both of you scream as soon as the water starts spraying from the ceiling, bursting out in laughter the moment you lock eyes with each other.

"This is a shower running on quantum physics."- Hyunjin says as he fiddles with the buttons again. "But I think I get it."- he finally manages to adjust the water.

You step in closer and Hyunjin explains which buttons he pressed and how to control the temperature.

"Thank you."- you say, embarassment seeping into you once again.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll... leave you to it."- he steps out, and you try to calm your breathing, with the prospect of having Hyunjin in the shower with you dancing around in your mind.

The shower is big enough to fit two people, especially if they wanna do certain activities. You scold yourself as you do your skincare, thinking that you must be really touch deprived to be this horny. Or maybe it's just Hyunjin's fault, for looking that good and being so sweet.

-

By the time lunch comes around, you are so hungry you can barely think.

You meet up with Nicki and Josh on the terrace of one of the resort's restaurants, and the view is simply breathtaking.

The ocean kissing the sand looks alluring and it invites you to dive in and find out all the secrets it hides. You briefly forget about your call to the ocean as Hyunjin brings out your chair and smiles cutely at you, his dimples showing as he looks at you through his sunglasses.

"Thanks."- you mutter and sit down.

Two other couples join you and everyone starts conversing about how beautiful the resort is. Nicki asks about the rooms and you tell her about the confusing shower to which she laughs, saying that it's some new technology and that she would love to have a shower like that installed at home.

You order your food, ready to even eat the plate with how your stomach is growling.

"So, how long have you and Hyunjin been together?"- Sophia, Nicki's friend from work, asks you as you eat the delicious food and you almost choke on the bite in your mouth.

"W-were not together. Were just... friends."- you say hesitantly, unable to look at Hyunjin, missing the look of embarassment and disappointment on his face.

"Oh, sorry."- Sophia makes an awkward face.

"Friends. For now."- Nicki smirks.

"Nicki!"- you smack her arm and she laughs like she just said the funniest joke.

Josh reads the awkwardness between you and Hyunjin and quickly changes the theme to all the things the resort offers.

You steal a glance at Hyujin and he seems to be contemplating something, deep in thought as he stares at the ocean. You wonder if it calls to him too.

"I wanna swim in the ocean."- Hyunjin says suddenly, like he can read your mind.

"Me too."- you agree immediately and he looks at you like he didn't realize he said that out loud.

"We should all go swim-" - Sophia starts but Nicki kicks her under the table making her gasp.

"No, no. There's a thing I wanna show you, Soph. You know."- Nicki nods towards the two of you as you talk quietly and Sophia realizes Nicki's plans.

"Oh. Yeah, I know."- she nods quickly.

-

"So, should we go to the beach?"- you ask Hyunjin after you get back to your room from the lunch, feeling a pleasant buzz from the good food and a few drinks you had.

"I was thinking more of a night swim."- he smiles mischieviously.

"A night swim? Isn't that kinda scary?"- you ask.

"I think it's exciting."- he says, looking at your every move as you take the bottle of wine in the kitchen and take out two glasses.

"Have you ever tried it?"- you ask him, struggling to open the wine.

"A few times. You?"- Hyunjin asks as he makes his way towards you.

"No, never."

"Do you want to?"- Hyunjin's breath hits the back of your neck as he suddenly appears behind you.

Shivers run down your spine as his arms wrap around you but his hands reach for the wine bottle you're holding.

"Let me help."- he whispers.

"I want to. I mean go on a night swim. But, I'd like to try the jacuzzi first."- you swallow as Hyunjin manages to open up the bottle with a pop.

"Sure, I'd like that too."- he smiles as he steps away from you, like he wasn't just all up in your private space leaving you hot and bothered. "We can do whatever we want to, really."- he adds, and you look at him trying to read his mind but all you get is him looking at you warmly, like you're the most beautiful and precious thing he's ever seen, you can even swear there's a twinkle in his eyes as he smiles at you.

Is he flirting with you?

You're sure at this point that you're feeding into your delusions and you turn around to pour two wine glasses.

"Here. To Nicki and Josh."- you say and Hyunjin chuckles as he takes the glass from your hand.

"To Nicki and Josh."-your glasses clink together. "And to us."- he adds and your chest flutters.

"To... us."- you nod and both of you take a sip.

-

The sun is just starting to set as Hyujin lowers himself into the jacuzzi, waiting for you to join him.

You're in the bathroom, trying on your third bathing suit and checking yourself out in the mirror.

You're usually not this self-aware but you saw how toned and lean Hyunjin's body is and looking at your slightly chubby figure, you wonder if he'll like the way you look. You always said you'd be damned if you ever let a man's opinion on your body change the way you see yourself but Hyunjin looks at you with such intensity that you're scared he will see all the flaws clearly.

Ultimately, you decide on the first one, a white bathing suit with gold details that compliments your tan skin, and you finally gather the courage to actually walk out of the bathroom. As soon as you step out into the private yard, Hyunjin looks up at you. You catch the quiet gasp that leaves his lips, redness spreading on his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears and down his neck. He barely conceals the smile that breaks out on his face.

"I like your bathing suit."- he says as you step into the jacuzzi slowly, and he mentally slaps himself for saying that instead of telling you that you look like the most beautiful goddess he has ever seen.

"T-thank you."- you chuckle as you quickly sit down into the water. Hyunjin turns away from you, a smile still playing on his lips as he grabs your wine glass from before and passes it to you.

For a few moments, all that can be heard is the sounds of the swirling water in the jacuzzi and the light jazz that Hyunjin probably put on coming from the room, as the two of you admire the orange and pink hues painting the sky above the ocean.

"So, do you still dance?"- you ask him, after taking a few sips of the wine.

"Oh yeah, in my free time. What about you? You used to like dancing too."- Hyunjin tilts his head at you.

"I did. I mean, I do like it, I just don't have that much time anymore. Plus, I wasn't really good."

"That's such a lie!"- Hyunjin chuckles. "You're a great dancer. Almost as good as me."- he jokes with a smirk.

"Yeah, almost."- you chuckle with him.

"So, what takes up all your time except work?"- Hyunjin asks, and you notice he's sitting closer to you now.

"I do volunteer work too, I help out at animal shelters and such. It's hard for me to resist helping animals in need. I don't have the heart to turn the blind eye."

"That's really sweet of you."- Hyunjin smiles. "So, basically you work all the time."- he chuckles. "No significant other?"

"If there was, they'd be here with me now."- you say and feel Hyunjin's thigh slightly press against yours under the water, making your core throb immediately. "W-what about you?"

"Still waiting for the one."- he smiles at you, his arm sneaking behind your upper back.

"Forever the romantic soul, huh?"- you chuckle nervously, he's so close to you.

"Do you believe in love?"- his eyes roam all over your face like he's analyzing it and it's hard to focus and not be on edge when you can literally count his eyelashes and when he's asking questions like that.

"Ofcourse I do. Honestly, I'm just a little disappointed with love right now."- you sigh.

"Bad experiences?"- he asks.

"More so bland than bad."- you answer, and Hyunjin goes silent for a few moments.

The sun has almost completely gone down, leaving your faces illuminated by the fairy lights in the garden.

"You know... I have something to confess."- Hyunjin says suddenly, his knee resting on yours and he's even closer now.

"Y-yeah?"- your voice trembles.

"I had the biggest crush on you in high school."- Hyunjin says, his eyes softening.

Your brain short circuits as you try to process what he just said. The biggest crush of your life, the one you pined over for years, the most beautiful and sweet man you've ever met felt the same way about you?

"Y/n?"- Hyunjin says unsurely as you stay quiet.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't... I never knew you felt the same way as me."- you accidentally say and Hyunjin looks at you, before he realizes what you said and his eyes widden as he gasps.

"You had a crush on me too?!"- he asks, seemingly excited.

"Come on, Hyun. Everyone had a crush on you in high school. People called you Prince. It's not exactly news."- you chuckle awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart is beating fast.

"I don't care about everyone. I care about you."- he says, his cheeks rosy. "I never thought you'd feel the same though."

"Me either. Actually, Nicki told me that everyone knew. And that they made bets on which one of us will make the first move."- you chuckle and Hyunjin laughs.

"Our friends really are something."- he says. He looks like he's about to say something again but you feel so nervous that you get up abruptly.

"I feel like I'll melt into the water if I keep sitting in the hot tub. I think I'm gonna take a shower and go to bed. I need to catch up on some sleep."- you talk quickly as Hyunjin looks at you, the look on his face slightly confused and a little bit dejected.

You basically run away from him and lock yourself in the bathroom. You try to catch your breath first, thinking what the fuck just happened in there?

Hyunjin's confession coupled with his body so close to yours intoxicated you more than the expensive wine ever could. You needed a cold shower.

-

You leave the bathroom on your tippy toes, dressed in your night gown and ready for bed.

You hope you can avoid Hyunjin at least for tonight, while you gather courage to face him again tomorrow and your plan is to get into bed and act like you're asleep if he asks you something or tries to talk to you.

You know it's childish but the figurative butterflies in your stomach are making you nauseous each time Hyunjin smiles at you.

"I'll go get ready for bed."- your plan is interrupted as Hyunjin appears seemingly from out of nowhere, grabbing his clothes.

You sigh and sit in bed, grabbing your phone and checking your messages. You see that Nicki had texted you asking how's it going with your 'lover' and if you're getting any 'action'.

You snort at your phone, quickly typing out an answer that he isn't your lover and that there is no action whatsoever.

You toss your phone aside and lay down, your muscles instantly relaxing into the bed, and you think how it's definitely the most comfortable bed you've ever touched.

You hear Hyunjin shuffling towards the room and he walks in wearing only his boxers, his hair damp from the shower and you swear your heart skips a beat or two.

"I'm actually feeling tired now. I think the plane and change of scenery are finally catching up to me."- Hyunjin talks as he gets under the covers and you wonder why this feels so casual like it happens every single night, like you're a couple that has been sleeping next to each other for years.

"Yeah. I'm barely awake."- you answer, your eyelids becoming heavy despite the fact that Hyunjin is laying next to you half naked and you can feel the heat radiating off of his body, inviting you closer to him, making you wish you could melt into his arms.

"I wanted to show you some of my recent art but we can save that for tomorrow. I'd also like for us to continue our talk."- he whispers the last sentence.

"What talk?"- you ask, already falling asleep.

"About our feelings."- you think you hear him say, but you can't fight the sleep anymore.

-

There is an arm around you. There is an arm around you.

Your eyes snap open and trail down towards your waist.

There is an arm around it, holding you tightly and there is a warm body attached to your backside.

You panic and then you remember where you are and who you're with and then you panic even more.

"Hyun?"- you whisper, trying to look back at him. "Hyunjin?"- you try again.

"Mmh?"- his voice is muffled, half of his face smushed into your pillow.

"I think Nicki wanted to see us for brunch or something."- you say awkwardly.

"Mm yeah, I'm awake."- he says, moving away and then you hear him gasp. "Oh my god, I am so sorry for getting all into your space and practically sleeping on you."- his face is red when you turn to look at him finally, and he looks even more embarassed than you are.

"I'm used to hugging my pillow every night."- he says sheepishly and you chuckle, deciding to tease him.

"Am I the equivalent to your pillow? Is that what you're saying?"- you smirk.

"No, no! You're way better than a pillow. I mean... you know what I mean... Nevermind, I'm gonna go get dressed."- Hyunjin rambles as he gets up clumsily, almost tripping over nothing as you stare at him and chuckle under your breath.

You can't believe you actually have that effect on him, and you also can't believe he looks so good when he just wakes up. It's like his lips look even more pouty than usual and you wish you could kiss those pretty lips until they're bruising.

And with the morning sun rays peeking through the window, you can see Hyunjin in all his glory and the sight makes your mouth water.

He grabs some clothes and you quickly look away as he turns around, busying yourself with your phone. There are a few texts from Nicki asking if you're up, and to come down to the restaurant you ate yesterday at for brunch. You quickly text her that you'll be there soon as the two of you get ready.

-

You didn't expect for Nicki to drag you and her other friends away from the guys claiming the girls need to go shopping and have some fun on their own. You're actually thankful for that because with the way your heart's beating fast the whole time Hyunjin is near you, you think you're seriously gonna have a heart attack.

"So, tell me, what happened last night with Hyunjin?"- she lowers her voice as she hooks her arm with yours, while you walk through the mall.

"Nothing happened. We talked."- you shrug.

"Boo! Boring! Give me some juicy details."- she shoves you a little and you laugh, shoving her back playfully.

"Well, we sat in the hot tub. Like real close."- you say and Nicki gasps. "And then Hyunjin told me he had the biggest crush on me in high school."

"Y/n!!! That is huge! I knew it, oh my god! What did you do?"- Nicki asks excitedly and you chuckle at her.

"I basically ran away and went to sleep."

She shakes her head looking like a disappointed mother as she narrows her eyes at you.

"You should've kissed him."

"Yeah, right."- you scoff.

"I'm telling you, don't miss out on a good thing."

-

You had a fun time with the girls, getting to know some of Nicki's other friends more, ofcourse with a cocktail or two in your hands because who cares, you're practically on vacation.

But your mind wanders to Hyunjin the whole time and you can't wait to be alone with him again.

He texts you telling you he came back to your shared room and asking if you're hungry to which you answer that you're starving. It's somewhere around dinner time as you walk into the suite, leaving the bags from your shopping trip in the living room.

A nice smell spreads from the kitchen making your stomach growl as you walk towards it.

You didn't expect to see Hyunjin in an apron, actually making dinner.

"Oh hey, you're back just in time. Dinner's almost done."- he turns towards you and smiles.

Your heart flutters when you see that the table is set, and there's flowers in the middle of it and a few candles and it all looks so romantic.

"I hope you like what I made. I'm not the best cook but I tried. I know we could go to any expensive restaurant here but honestly, I wanted it to be just the two of us."- Hyunjin rambles.

"Oh, it already smells really nice. I'm sure it'll be delicious."- you say, finally snapping out of your trance as you come closer to him. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure."

The food is actually delicious, and the expensive wine adds to it, and the fact that Hyunjin cooked for you just makes everything much better and tastier. You both share how you spent the afternoon, agreeing that this is probably the most relaxed you've ever felt in your life.

Hyunjin remembers the night swim you promised him and you glance out the window at the almost completely dark sky.

"Let's do it."

Both of you get ready for the beach, giggling like little kids as you make your way towards it. You feel giddy and adventurous, like you're having an out of body experience cause there is no way you would do something like this usually.

You find a quiet part of the beach and sit down on your towels first, Hyunjin sitting close to you again, leaning on his arm that's placed behind your back.

He turns towards you and you can barely make out his features in the almost complete darkness while his eyes roam all over your face illuminated by the distant lights of a beach bar.

"I have to say, I'm so happy to be here with you. I'm happy that Nicki's and Josh's wedding brought us together again."- Hyunjin says quietly and you swallow as butterflies rise up to your throat.

"Me too."- you whisper.

"You have no idea how many times I wanted to just dm you on Insta and ask you to meet up."- he confesses.

"Really?"- you chuckle.

"Yeah. But I always chickened out, I don't know why. I guess it's because of the same reason I never asked you out in high school."

"Which is?"

"Which is that I always thought you could do better than me."- Hyunjin sighs and you can't help the scoff that leaves your lips. The Hwang Hyunjin was insecure next to you? What dimension did you fall into?

"That's absurd. I thought the same thing for you though."- you add and he laughs.

"We were dumb, both of us. But I hope we've grown and we know better now, hm?"- Hyunjin asks, his hand resting on your lower back, his eyes landing on your lips as he slowly leans in closer.

"I would hope so too."- your voice trembles as his leg presses against yours.

"Can I kiss you?"- he asks and you don't even answer verbally, you close the gap and your lips land on his.

He reciprocates immediately, his hand wrapping around you as yours tangles in his hair. Kissing his soft lips feels even better than you could ever imagine. You can't believe you're finally kissing your high school love, you feel like you're actually floating on clouds and also exploding at the same time.

Hyunjin's kiss is slow, purposeful and sensual until he gets drunk on you and then his kisses become more passionate and desperate, tongue prodding at your mouth. Your lips part to let him in, his free hand is on your cheek now as he angles your head to push his tongue in deeper and explore your mouth. You grip at his arm and his hair and Hyunjin grunts into you, the sound going straight down to your core.

"H-Hyunjin..."- you whisper as you part for air. He chuckles and then full on laughs as he leans his forehead on yours.

"You've no idea how long I wanted to do that."- he licks his lips.

"Same."- you say and he leans back and smirks.

"How about that night swim, hm?"- he wiggles his eyebrows as he takes off his t-shirt. You gulp and look around before taking your dress off.

You're in your bathing suit, but Hyunjin doesn't stop at his shirt. His fingers hook into his swim trunks as he stands up and slides them down, his dick in front of your face and your body feels hot as you gasp and turn away.

"W-what are you doing?"- you almost shriek and Hyunjin laughs.

"Swimming naked. Your turn."- he says and you look up at him. "I mean, don't feel pressured, you don't have to if you feel uncomfortable."

"I want to."- you bite your lip, your hands behind your back as you untie your bathing suit, letting it fall down. Your breasts spill out of it and Hyunjin's eyes are full of lust as he stares at them, wishing he could bury his face between them in that moment. You stand up and slide your panties down, now completely naked in front of Hyunjin.

Your heart hammers in your chest as he looks at you and you feel a little self-conscious.

"You're beautiful."- he smiles sincerely and you think you're gonna have that heart attack right about now.

"So are you."- you say and Hyunjin laughs sweetly as he grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours.

"Are you ready?"- he asks.

"I'm a little scared."- you say as you look at the dark ocean in front of you.

"I'll keep you safe, darling."- Hyunjin looks at you softly.

"Okay."- you say and the two of you get into the water, both of you screaming because it's cold but you're already in it so you wanna go all the way.

"Oh my god!"- you shriek as Hyunjin laughs and screams at the same time, his arms flapping around funnily.

"It's cold as fuck!"- you say.

"We'll warm up."- he swims closer to you, winking at you and you roll your eyes at him playfully.

"Something- something's touching my leg."- Hyunjin's serious suddenly and you panic a little.

"Don't joke around."- you warn him but he shakes his head.

"I'm not, I can feel something-" - he says and then screams as something tugs on his leg, almost pulling him under water.

"Hyunjin!"- you panic, trying to swim closer to him as he flaps around.

You're scared until you come close to him and he suddenly stops the dramatic flapping and gives you a dumb smirk.

"There's nothing, I was joking."- he says calmly and you smack his shoulder.

"You asshole! I was really scared for a sec! Why would you do that?"- you whine at him and he pouts at you, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into his body.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to joke around a little. I wont do that again, I promise. I'll make it up to you, please don't be mad."- he continues pouting as you try to ignore him, even though your arms are wrapped around his shoulders.

"Start making up for it now and I'll think about forgiving you."- you smirk and Hyunjin presses himself closer to you, your breasts pressed against his chest. He leans in and you make out in the water, forgetting about the cold and the fact that someone could catch you in that moment. You don't care about any of that, you only care about Hyunjin's arms around you and his tongue licking into your mouth.

"Let's get out of here."- you smirk and both of you swim back to the beach and get out of the water, still holding hands.

You sit on your towel and Hyunjin grabs his, wrapping it around the both of you. You start kissing immediately, feeling like you're finally making up for all the years of pining over each other.

Your limbs tangle together, hands roaming all over each other's bodies and both of you heat up again after cooling down in the water. Hyunjin's hands come up to cup your breasts and you moan into his mouth as he runs his thumbs on your perky nipples.

"Hyun..."- you moan, arching into his touch.

"I want you."- he whispers on your lips.

"Here?"- you giggle, caressing the back of his neck.

"Mhm. Here. I can't wait anymore."- he whines.

"Ah, me either. I want you too."- you say, your hands tangling in his wet hair.

"I have a condom in my pocket somewhere."- he tries to find his pants but you grab his hand.

"I want to feel you completely."- you say, your voice low as you look at him with eyes full of lust.

"Fuck... Okay darling, whatever you want."- Hyunjin says, his pupils blown.

He can't wait anymore as he lays you down, plump lips attaching to your neck, his hands massaging your breasts and you feel arousal drip between your legs, you need him more than you've needed anything in your life ever.

He bites down into your skin, sucking on it and you moan, gripping his bicep. Your hand slides to his wrist and you guide his hand between your legs.

"Touch me, please."- you whimper.

"Gladly."- Hyunjin whispers, his fingers on your clit immediately, massaging the bundle of nerves in circles as he kisses you again, his tongue playing with yours. He swallows every moan you release, your hips lifting up into his touch as he runs his fingers over your wet folds.

"So wet. All this for me?"- he asks as he leans back and looks at you, caressing your hair.

"Only for you."- you answer and he presses two of his fingers on your entrance, silently asking for permission as he looks into your eyes. You nod and he bites on his lip, slowly pushing his digits into you.

"Ah!"- you moan, nails digging into the towel below you as he pushes in deeply, curling his fingers to find that gummy spot that drives you crazy.

You spread your legs for him, his hand speeding up, the tips of his fingers hitting that sweet spot over and over again making you see stars. He scissors his fingers inside you, the wet sounds of your arousal melting into the sound of the waves crashing together in front of your heated bodies.

You spill your juices over his fingers as you arch you back and grip his wrist, pushing him deeper into you as you ride out your orgasm.

"Fuck, you're so hot babygirl."- Hyunjin groans before pulling his fingers out of you and putting them in his mouth.

"Mm."- he moans around them. "Taste so sweet."

"Please Hyun, I need you."- you whimper, grabbing at him and pulling him closer to you.

"You don't have to beg, sweet girl. I'll give you anything you want."- he smirks at you, stroking his cock before pushing between your folds slowly, his eyes staring into yours intensely.

You moan loudly, the stretch is delicious as he fills you up, sliding himself slowly into you so you feel every inch of his hard cock opening up your pussy.

"Mm you're so tight."- Hyunjin moans into your ear as he leans down closer to you, his hands resting on your hips. "Feels so good to finally be inside you."

"Ah, Hyun- move, please."- you whine, burning up for him and him only.

He starts slowly fucking into you as you wrap your legs and arms around him bringing him even closer to you, wanting your bodies to melt into each other like the sea foam melting over the sand. Everything disappears around you except the ocean and Hyunjin. He's deep inside you, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly as your pussy stretches to take him perfectly, like it was made just for his cock. And as you rock together, you realize you love him, you've loved him for years and even though you never had a taste of him before tonight, none of the people you tasted before made you this hungry for them. No one could compare to Hyunjin, nothing could compare to the feelings running deep inside you, deeper than the dark ocean murmuring before you.

"Y/n, are you okay? Am I hurting you?!"- Hyunjin looks panicked and just then you feel the tears sliding down your cheeks.

"No, no. You're perfect."- you say and his eyes soften as he slowly starts moving his hips again.

"Then what's wrong, darling?"- he asks.

"I... I love you, Hyunjin."- you say with all your heart and Hyunjin practically melts, his face breaking into the happiest smile you've ever seen.

"I love you too, y/n. I've loved you for years. Don't cry, my darling."- he wipes your tears away.

"Make me yours, Hyunjin. Fuck me and make me yours."- you plead as you grab onto him desperately and he grips your hips, eyes rolling back as he starts fucking you faster.

The feeling of his cock splitting you apart, his hips slapping into yours, your mixed breaths and moans makes the sea inside you rise, the waves crashing over you as your hearts wild inside your chests, the ocean wilding together with the two of you, almost tickling at your feet.

"I'll make you mine, darling. Only mine."- Hyunjin groans, one of his hands on your breast and his mouth busy with your nipple as he fucks his cock into you harshly. You can't take anymore and with the crashing wave you snap and explode, squirting on his pulsating cock.

"Mm Hyunjin!"- you moan his name as he fucks you through your high, hips becoming sloppier before he twitches inside you, and then paints your insides with his warm cum, pushing as deep as he can to make you only his.

"Wow."- he breathes hard, leaning his forehead on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around him and hold him tightly.

"Wow indeed."- you say and he lifts his head up, giving you the cutest smile that reaches his eyes.

"I love you."- he whispers.

"I love you."- you whisper back and he pecks your lips gently, sweetly.

"Let's get out of here before we freeze our asses off."- you add and he chuckles, kissing your forehead.

-

"I really needed that warm shower."- you shiver under the blanket that Hyunjin found in the wardrobe.

"Same."- he says, sliding under the cover with you. "Are you still cold?"

"Mhm."- you nod.

"Come here, we'll warm each other up."- he says as he opens his arms and you roll into his embrace lazily making him giggle. You wrap around each other, limbs and hearts tangled together as you breathe each other in.

"I feel like I'm in high school."- you giggle, your fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. His hand rests on your waist as he caresses you gently.

"Yeah, like were sneaking around from our parents after our curfew."- Hyunjin chuckles. "Oh, would you let me sketch you? Or maybe paint you even?"- he asks, his hand coming up to caress your cheek.

"You brought your supplies with you?"- you ask.

"I don't go anywhere without them. Just in case inspiration hits, you know?"- he smiles, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Okay, I'll be your inspiration then."- you smirk and lean in to kiss his soft lips.

"Remind me... to show you... some art tomorrow."- Hyunjin mumbles between kisses.

"Mhm."- you mutter against his lips, unable to detach yourself away from him. You wish you could stay like this forever, close to your Hyunjin, your lips attached to his like he was giving you air.

You have no idea how long you kissed each other like that before the two of you fell asleep, holding each other as close as you could.

-

The sunlight is almost blinding as it comes through the window, the warmness of it and of your lover's body so close to yours make you wanna spend the whole day in bed, wrapped in the blanket and wrapped up in Hyunjin.

His face is smushed into your chest, his arm and leg around you holding you tightly. You chuckle quietly, lips pressed to his forehead as you comb your fingers through his soft hair.

"Mm."- he mutters, nuzzling between your breasts.

"You having fun there?"- you poke at him and he chuckles quietly before rubbing his face on your skin gently.

"I don't wanna move."- his voice is slightly muffled and you giggle, knuckles brushing his cheek.

"Me either but we kinda have to get up."- you say.

"Says who?"- Hyunjin mumbles, leaving little kisses on the valley of your breast.

"Nicki. She wants us girls to go to the beach and then have a spa day."- Hyunjin groans at that, holding you tighter.

"So, you're leaving me again?"- he finally looks up at you and you chuckle at his squinty eyes and pouty lips.

"You'll have me later again."- you smirk.

"Okay, deal."- he nods, pouting at you cutely like he's begging for a kiss. You lean in, still smirking, so close to his lips but you stop there, waiting for him to react to your teasing.

Hyunjin whines and opens his eyes.

"Kiss me."- he pouts again and you chuckle, pressing your lips on his, both of you melting into each other instantly.

"I'll miss you until later."- Hyunjin whispers and your heart flutters as he caresses you everywhere he can reach, his lips on your skin.

"I'll miss you too."

-

"You what?!"- Nicki screams when you tell her the details of last night.

"Lower your voice, please."- you smack her arm as you look around the beach.

"You fucked on this beach?! You guys are more adventurous than I thought."- she wiggles her eyebrows with a sly smirk, pushing you playfully.

"We couldn't wait to get to our room so..."- you smirk and she almost screams again, both of you giggling like crazy.

"What else?"- she asks.

You thought about telling her how you've already confessed love to each other, but for some reason that felt so intimate to you that for now you wanted to keep that between you and Hyunjin.

You told her some other details and Nicki was estatic for you, as happy as you are for her and Josh. You talked about the bachelorette and the wedding, Nicki being so excited about all of it that she was practically walking on water.

You had a fun time actually swimming during the day, when you can see how clear the ocean is, the sun reflecting off of the water making everything look a hundred times more special and wondrous.

After the beach, you and the girls hit the spa, needing a self-care day and you tried all the different massages you had no idea even existed.

Feeling extraordinarily relaxed after the spa and yummy lunch, you were basically ready for a nap.

As you walk back into your suite, you hear some faint music coming from the balcony.

You follow the sound and peek out of the door, Hyunjin's sitting on one of the chairs, a sketchbook in his hands as he draws.

You lean on the door frame, staring at him fondly as his hand glides expertly over the rough paper.

"You can admire me from afar, but I think you'd like me better up front."- he smirks, eyes not leaving the sketch he's working on.

"Haha, very funny, Prince."- you say mockingly and he chuckles, looking up at you.

"I mean it, pretty. Come closer."- he wiggles his finger at you, you roll your eyes playfully but make your way to him.

"Closer."- he tugs on your arm gently as you stand in front of him.

"A little bit closer."- he adds as you start leaning in.

You smirk and tease him, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks.

"Almost there."- he whispers, your lips close to his and you give in and kiss him with a smile on your lips. His free hand comes up to hold the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, breathing you in like you're his oxygen.

"What are you sketching?"- you ask when you part.

"I was sketching the sky but now that you're here, I'd like to sketch you."- he smiles.

"Alright."- you nod, sitting down on the other chair. Hyunjin pours you some lemonade, flipping his page as he gets back into his drawing.

You talk about anything and everything, he lets you look through his other sketchbooks and you admire how far he's come with his work. The drawings and paintings are more intricate, more heavy and emotional, deeper than the doodles he made in high school.

He seems proud of his work but also bashful, the paintings bare the artists soul to the world after all.

"Here."- Hyunjin gives you the sketchbook so you can look at his sketch of you.

"Oh wow, you made me so beautiful."- you say and he laughs sweetly.

"I draw what I see."- he smiles.

"Stop that."- you say embarassingly, your cheeks heating up.

"Never."- Hyunjin smirks and you shake your head at him.

"No, but really, all of your work is so beautiful. You really deserve to have it hung in a gallery so the whole world can admire it."- you say and Hyunjin's cheeks are pink as he leans towards you, his hands resting on your thighs.

"You're so sweet, you know that?"- his eyes fill with something you recognize as desire, the same look he gave you on the beach last night.

The nap you needed is long forgotten as Hyunjin starts massaging your bare thighs.

"Let's get inside."- you whisper and he smirks.

Teeth clashing and fingers digging into your skin, you clumsily make your way to the bed, kissing and bumping into furniture on the way.

Your hands slide under Hyunjin's shirt and you explore his waist and abs, fingers coming up to play with his nipples, your lips attaching to his neck. He groans, gripping at your dress as you suck on his skin, just below his ear.

"Mm, darling."- he moans and you slide his shirt up, signaling him to lift up his arms so you can take it off. You throw it somewhere on the side and push Hyunjin down on the bed.

He falls with a thud and a giggle, his face red as he looks at you like you're the sun itself.

You straddle him, leaning down to attach your lips on his skin again, worship his beautiful body as you kiss him everywhere you can reach, the sweet scent of him filling up your nose and taking over your brain.

Little grunts and moans leave Hyunjin's pink plump lips and you keep sliding lower, your fingers hooking into his pants as you kiss his abs.

He looks down at you with lust, lifting his hips off the bed and you slide his pants and boxers down, throwing them aside carelessly too.

Your hand wraps around his length, his pretty pink tip glistening with precum and you lean in and lick at it, making Hyunjin's eyes roll in the back of his head.

"B-baby..."- he whines quietly, legs spreading subtly and you smirk, wrapping your lips around him, your tongue playing with the sensitive underside.

Your hand is still wrapped around the base of his cock as you keep teasing him, moving slowly and only concentrating on his tip.

"Darling, more, please!"- Hyunjin whines, pushing his hips towards your face desperately and you oblige, gripping his hips to hold him still as you slowly slide down to take more of him.

"Mm, fuck!"- he whimpers as you start bobbing your head up and down, your hand working what doesn't fit in your mouth, your other hand fondling his balls, squeezing them gently.

Pretty moans and grunts keep spilling out of his lips as he struggles not to fuck up into your mouth harshly. You keep speeding up and trying to take as much of him as you can, you eyes watering when he almost hits the back of your throat, making you gag.

"Fuck, darling you look so pretty like that."- Hyunjin moans as you give it your all, sucking on his dick like it's the tastiest lollipop ever.

Hyunjin buzzes with arousal, legs shaking as his fingers tangle into your hair. You moan around him, sending vibrations through his cock. Hyunjin looks down at you with so much lust in his eyes that it makes you shiver.

You're almost sore but you don't wanna stop, not until you make him cum and it doesn't take Hyunjin too long to explode, his cum hitting the back of your throat, making you choke on it as you swallow as quickly as you can.

Hyunjin gasps and whimpers, his hand gripping your hair harder as you milk him dry. He shakes from oversensitivity and gently tugs at your hair.

"P-please... sensitive..."- he whines and you lift off of him, licking at your lips.

He leans on his elbows, his eyes fluttering as he shakes his head slightly.

"Let me return the favor, darling."- he says and you crawl closer to him, your lips on his, making him taste himself on your tongue.

"Can we- can we continue in the shower? I've always wanted to try that."- you say shyly, your face warm, your cunt wet and throbbing for Hyunjin.

"You're so naughty, babygirl."- Hyunjin smirks, hands wrapping around you and gripping your ass. You moan in arousal and embarassment as you accidentally grind against his thigh.

"Can we?"- you ask again.

"Ofcourse baby. Your wish is my command."- Hyunjin kisses you and you make your way to the bathroom, peeling your clothes off on the way there.

Both of you step into the shower, Hyunjin attaching his body to your back, his semi hard cock pressing into your plush ass as you fiddle with the buttons on the shower.

He gently moves your hair to one side, his lips on the back of your neck as he kisses you slowly and gently, his hands coming up to cup your breasts as he runs his fingers on your nipples.

You moan, relaxing into him as your eyes flutter closed, the warm water from the shower spraying on your legs.

Hyunjin slides one of his hands down between your legs, his fingertips finding your sensitive clit as he starts playing with it, pressing it in circling motions.

"Mm, Hyunjin please!"- you moan, leaning into his touch. He's all over you, playing your body like an instrument and you can't get enough of him, you just want more and more.

You grab his hands and turn around.

"You still wanna return the favor?"- you smirk.

"Yeah, yeah."- Hyunjin nods eagerly.

"Get on your knees."- you say and he looks surprised before he chuckles.

"Alright, I don't mind kneeling for you."- he smirks and kneels in front of you. A gush of arousal drips between your legs when you see such a pretty man looking up at you like you're everything to him and waiting eagerly to please you.

You hook your leg around him, your foot resting on his back as you bring him closer to your dripping cunt.

Hyunjin whines and buries his face into you, his tongue lapping at your sweet pussy greedily. His eyes are closed, long eyelashes fluttering, his nose massaging your clit in the right way as he buries his tongue deep inside you and fucks you with it.

"Oh my god- Hyune, ah!"- you moan, gripping his hair harshly and pushing his face further into you.

He moans and whines as he keeps moving his tongue expertly inside you, his eyes opened and staring up at you. The look in his eyes as he grips your ass makes you almost double over and you're sure you would slip and fall if he wasn't holding onto you. Your moans echo in the small space of the shower but in that moment you don't give a flying fuck about anyone hearing you. You can't help it as your hips start grinding on Hyunjin's face and his eyes flutter shut again as he lets you use him until you're almost screaming, the coil inside you snapping as you squirt on his face and lips. Hyunjin moans with you, cleaning you up with his tongue as you whimper, your legs shaking and ears ringing.

He leans back, smirking at you and you see that his dick is fully hard now again.

"So good, Hyune. So good."- you whine, grabbing at him as he slowly lifts up.

He leans his forehead on yours, his cock slotting between your hips, dragging against your wet pussy.

"I can't get enough of you."- he whispers.

"Me too. I need you, I need you inside me."- you gasp, rubbing your pussy against his heavy cock.

"I'll give it to you, babygirl."- Hyunjin smirks, eyes glazed over with lust as he grips the underside of your hips and lifts you up. You squeal and wrap your legs around his waist, the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance.

You move your hips towards his and he wastes no more time, lining up with you and pushing his cock in.

You groan, nails digging into his shoulders as he slowly pushes in until he bottoms out, his tip kissing your cervix, his cock stretching you deliciously again.

"So big."- you whine, throwing your head back and he chuckles.

"Hold onto me, darling."- he grips your ass, lifting you up slightly and then pushing you down on his cock again. You moan loudly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he keeps ramming you on his hard cock, hips fucking up into you at the same time, making your brain turn into mush.

He kisses your neck and grunts into your ear as you surrender completely, your head thrown back, eyes shut tightly, limbs completely wrapped around him, pussy stuffed with his cock.

You've gone delirious at this point and you can't even think or form coherent words, and you can see that Hyunjin's in the same state of disarray.

"Cum. Need to cum."- you whimper.

"Let go, babygirl."- he whispers into your ear and you release your juices all over his cock, making everything even more wet and slippery as you clench around him.

"Shit, ah!"- Hyunjin keeps pushing his cock harshly into you, burying himself as deep as he can and making a home inside you as he groans your name and spills his cum into you.

Both of you hold onto each other as you slowly move, riding out your high. Hyunjin's legs tremble for a second and he slowly pulls out and puts you down, his arms wrapped around you.

Your arms are wrapped around his waist, your bodies pressed together, your face buried in his neck as he caresses your head and you find comfort in his embrace and in the warmth radiating from his body and his heart.

-

You're sitting on your side of the bed, texting Nicki about some details for the bachelorette party tomorrow when Hyunjin joins you.

He slides on the bed comically, laying his head in your lap and poking at your arm to get your attention. You put your phone aside and chuckle at him.

"It's almost over."- you sigh.

"What is?"- he asks.

You put your hand in his hair and caress him gently and his eyes flutter, lips pouty.

"This wonderful dream. Soon, we have to go back to the real world."- you say wistfully.

"The good feeling doesn't have to end. We can carry it back with us."- Hyunjin smiles at you, grabbing your other hand and kissing your knuckles gently.

"You think so?"

"Mhm. Especially if... if you wanna give us a chance."- he looks at you hopefully, his cheeks rosy.

"Ofcourse I do. It's all I've wanted for years."- you smile and he chuckles in relief.

"Then we can continue dreaming together."- he sits up, hands cupping your cheeks as he kisses you lovingly, pouring his emotions from his lips to yours.

"You know, I have sketchbooks from high school that are full of drawings of you."- Hyunjin smiles bashfully as you lay down and hold each other.

"I have like 4 diaries worth of simping over you. Oof, that was so cringy!"- you cover your face in embarassment and Hyunjin laughs.

"Oh my god, that's so adorable!"- he says, pulling your hands away so he can look at you and you feel your face burning.

"Nooo, it's embarassing!"- you whine.

"You gotta show them to me."

"God, no!"

"Yes, please y/n! It's cute, we can laugh at it together!"- he pouts, batting his eyelashes at you.

"Alright, alright. You know I can't say no to that face."- you sigh and he smirks.

"Hehe, fun."- Hyunjin mocks and you roll your eyes.

"You're lucky I love you."- you say.

"Damn right I am."- he kisses you.

Between all the sweet kisses and the whispered words of love, you know this is what you were waiting for.

-

You and Hyunjin decide to wake up early the next morning so you can go to the beach before Nicki snatches you away for some girl time.

You cut up some fruit to take with you with Hyunjin hovering behind you the whole time, his hands roaming all over your body, pulling you into him.

You grab your towels and some other things you need before you skip down to the beach, holding hands.

It's pretty early when you arrive and the beach is not crowded, making it all feel more intimate as Hyunjin and you strip to your bathing suits and make your way to the water.

It all feels like a dream you don't wanna wake up from, the two of you relaxed and playful with each other, splashing around and racing each other.

You feel partly like a kid again, just enjoying the simple moments in life, that veil of wonder covering your eyes and making everything look beautiful and mystical again. And partly you feel like the luckiest woman alive when Hyunjin pulls you into his loving embrace, your heart giddy as electricity runs through you waking up every neuron inside your brain. If this is what being in love is like, and having your feelings reciprocated, you never want it to stop.

-

"Bestie, you don't understand how happy I am for you!"- Nicki squeals excitedly, throwing her arms around you and almost throwing you off balance.

You and the other girls are gathered in her suite, getting ready for her party, and you finally told her how you and Hyunjin already said 'I love you' to each other.

"You don't think it's kinda going too fast?"- you ask, biting on your lip nervously.

"God, no! You've been crazy for each other for years. It's about time you came clean with your feelings."

"I'm just worried, something that goes up fast usually crashes and burns down fast too."- you sigh.

"Don't be ridiculous. Those are years worth of feelings. You and Hyunjin were made for each other, and deep down you know that. Don't let any bad thoughts or insecurities make you believe otherwise."

"You always know what to say."- you chuckle at your friend. "But enough about me, let's get ready for your party!"- you add excitedly.

You decide to wear one of the lingerie sets you brought, lacy and almost see through, your mind already making up scenarios of Hyunjin taking it off of you. You put on a sparkly short dress that accentuates all your curves perfectly, your make up is sultry and smoky. When you finish with the final touches, you look into the mirror and feel so happy that the whole outfit looks even better on you than you've imagined.

The party is held in one of the resort's 'dance rooms', and there is so much food and alcohol around that you have no idea where to start.

It starts off with all of you taking shots and congratulating Nicki and as the night goes on, more alcohol is being poured into your glasses, there's laughter, tears and dancing as all of you celebrate Nicki's last 'free' night and the beginning of a new chapter in her relationship.

By the time you stumble back into your suite, you're a bit tipsy and not expecting Hyunjin to already be there. He peers from the kitchen as you shut the door too loudly on accident.

"Oh, Hyune. You're back already."- you make your way to him and he chuckles as he takes your hands in his.

"Are you a bit drunk, baby?"- he asks as you face plant into his chest and whine.

"Just a little bit."- you say, your voice muffled.

"Luckily for you, I just made some coffee."- he smiles and you lean back, wearing a stupid smile on your face, making him laugh.

"You're cute."- you coo at him, your palms on his cheeks, squishing them together and making his lips pop out.

"I think that's you."- he manages to say and you chuckle and kiss him.

"Drink some coffee."- he adds when you part.

The coffee is warm and just how you like it, the two of you sharing the love for the bitter taste of the dark liquid.

You end up on the couch as you sip on your coffee, some light music playing in the background as the two of you talk. Hyunjin's hand ends up on your bare thigh as he squeezes it.

"You look sexy."- he says, always so forward with his compliments and you feel arousal pool between your legs, already under his spell just from the way he looks at you and gently massages your thigh.

"Oh yeah? Are you gonna do something about that?"- you smirk, now sobered up.

"As a matter of fact I will."- he smirks back at you, grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours, making you whimper as he bites on your bottom lip, his tongue licking at it. You open your mouth and your tongues dance together, battling for dominance until you let him have it and moan into his mouth. The muffled sounds and the shared kisses make you both throb for each other.

But Hyunjin has other plans in his mind, no matter how much he just wants to lift up your dress and fuck you into oblivion.

He leans back, his eyes dark and narrowing at you. You gulp as he slowly kneels in front of you, the carpet giving some relief to his bare knees.

"Your feet must hurt in these."- his hand covers the top of your foot in your strappy heels.

"Actually, they do."- you nod, catching your lip between your teeth in anticipation.

"Let me."- he whispers as he starts undoing your heel. He slowly takes it off of your foot, before his hands wrap around you and he starts massaging you. You gasp, having no idea how much your feet were actually hurting until Hyunjin started pressing his fingers into them.

You relax, leaning back on the couch as he takes off your other heel, his hands kneading your feet. You've never had a man touch your feet like that but the fact that it was Hyunjin, made your head float. You throw your head back, little grunts and moans of relief leaving your lips, as you spread your legs subtly, your panties now soaking wet.

Hyunjin notices your legs opening up and your body shivering a little and he leans in, one of his hands on your thigh and the other still holding your foot. You look down at him as he leans in, leaving kisses on your inner thigh and you whimper as he keeps touching you and kissing you. Your foot reaches down to press his erection through his shorts and Hyunjin jerks his hips up, gasping in surprise.

"Y/n!"- he whines and you smirk, massaging his hard cock with your foot, moving it up and down until you feel his shorts dampen with pre cum. Hyunjin has a death grip on your thighs, his nails digging into your flesh as his eyes close, brows furrowed and lips parted. Pretty groans and whines spill from his lips as you start circling his wet head with your toes.

"Fuck!"- he grips you harder, glassy eyes looking up at you.

"I didn't know you were into feet this much."- you smirk.

"P-please don't judge me."- he whines, his hips moving up into your touch involuntarily.

"I'm not judging you, baby. I think you look so pretty right now, Hyune."- you coo at him, your hand cupping his chin and making him look up at you.

"Mm darling..."- he whimpers as you speed up. "You better stop now cause I'm gonna cum."- he licks his lips and you chuckle, pressing into his cock harder before you move your foot completely.

Hyunjin seems on edge already and you feel proud that you can make him unravel with just your foot on his clothed dick. He slides his hands to the hem of your dress and slowly rolls it up, revealing your lacy panties.

"Fuck, sweetheart."- Hyunjin chuckles darkly. Before you can even say anything, his hands hook under your thighs and he pulls you closer to his face harshly, his nose and lips pressed into your lace covered cunt immediately.

"H-Hyunjin!"- you gasp as you grip at the couch, your heart leaping out your chest for a moment. He licks over your damp panties, making them even more wet. Your legs rest on his shoulders and you tangle your hands in his hair as he grips your ass, pushing his face into you.

"M-more, please!"- you beg and Hyunjin sneaks his hands between your thighs, spreading them apart before he grips your panties and rips them apart.

"Oh my god!"- you whimper as you peer down at his lustful face.

"I'll buy you new ones."- he chuckles and dives back in, tongue lapping at your juices.

"Mm. Don't care."- you moan, gripping his hair and holding him in place. Hyunjin closes his eyes and eats you out like a man starved as your legs close around his head, pressing him between your thighs.

You're going crazy for him, grinding on his face and he lets you take control as you keep fucking his face faster, chasing your release.

Hyunjin thinks his head is gonna explode with the strength you squeeze him with as you get closer, your moans getting more high pitched, movements getting more erratic and desperate.

"Ah, ah, fuck Hyune!"- you scream out as you cum, squirting all over his face.

Hyunjin seems surprised for a second and you feel a little embarassed.

"Shit, I'm sorry! I kinda lost myself in it."- you say, your cheeks heating up.

"God y/n, don't apologize. That was the hottest fucking thing ever."- Hyunjin licks around his lips and you feel your pussy clench around nothing.

"Really?"- you ask and instead of answering, Hyunjin stands up, taking his clothes off fast before he hovers over you and starts slowly sliding your dress off.

He loves the lacy bra you wore but he doesn't want any obstacles in his way so he snaps it open and takes it off of you, tossing it aside.

He leans down to kiss you, his lips pressing hard into you, bruising and making you taste yourself on his tongue. You grab at him desperately and he slides his arms under your thighs again but this time he lifts you up like you're as light as a feather. You whine and he sits down on the couch with you on top of him.

"I want you to ride me, darling."- he smirks at you, hands on your breasts, playing with your perky nipples.

"As you wish, Hyune."- your lips tremble as you grab his painfully hard cock, he gasps and pushes up into you, his lips parting as he stares at you.

You move his tip against your wet cunt making both of you moan as you lean in to kiss him and bite his pretty plump lips. You can't wait anymore and by the twitching of his cock against you, you know he can't wait anymore either so you sink down on him slowly.

He looks down at where the two of you are connected and groans.

"You take me so well, baby."- he praises and you mewl, slowly moving your hips in circles.

"Your cock was made for me, Hyune."- you lean your forehead on his and he breathes out a shaky breath.

"Mm yes baby, only for you."- he whimpers as you grab onto his shoulders and start slowly sliding up and down on him.

Hyunjin lets you set the pace as his hands roam all over your body, mapping you out, sketching you in his mind already.

You press your chest into his and the two of you kiss as he starts slowly fucking up into you, matching your movement. You fuck on each other slowly for some time before you need more, your cunt stretching more and more to adjust his length and girth and you need him harder, deeper.

You lean back and start bouncing faster on him, fucking yourself on his hard cock as he hits you so deeply, where no one has ever reached before. Your nails dig into his shoulders, and you throw your head back as you keep rocking on him faster and faster. Hyunjin looks at you mesmerized, his cock twitching inside you and he knows he wont be able to last much longer. The way you lose yourself in pleasure, your tits bouncing as your pussy takes him in deeply, keeping him wet and warm, clenching around him in a deathly grip has him counting stars.

He grips your hips and starts fucking up into you relentlessly, hitting your sweet spot with every strong thrust. You almost scream out in pleasure as you cum hard, squirting on his cock, the pleasure spreading through your body, from your head all the way to your toes.

Hyunjin grunts and moans your name as he throbs inside you, his cock twitching as he explodes, the warm cum spurting inside you and hitting your cervix pushing you over the edge again.

You collapse into his opened arms and you hold each other tightly as you come down from your high.

"You're gonna be the death of me."- Hyunjin whispers into your hair. "I don't mind it, though."- he adds and you chuckle, still trying to get yourself together. You slowly lift off of him and feel his cum drip out of you.

Hyunjin looks down and whines, his hand coming between your legs as he gathers some of his and your cum mixed together, and then brings his fingers to your lips. Your eyes flutter as your wrap them around the tips of his fingers and lick them clean, slowly and sensually, never breaking eye contact with him. You slide down taking more of his fingers in and sucking on them.

Hyunjin bites on his lips before slowly pulling his fingers away from you.

"I think we should sleep now, if we want to be awake for the wedding tomorrow."- he chuckles at your pouty face.

"What time is it even?"- you ask.

Hyunjin looks around for his phone that's also the source of music you've completely forgotten while the two of you were intertwined with each other.

"Oh wow, it's almost 4am."- he laughs and you gasp.

"Okay, you're right, we really need to sleep."- you say and the two of you clean up and get ready for bed.

"Tomorrow's the big day."- Hyunjin mumbles as you melt into his arms.

"Mhm. And basically our last day here."- you say, pressing your lips on his neck.

"We gotta use that to our advantage."- he wiggles his eyebrows, making you giggle as you look up at him.

"Sure, we will."

"I love you."- Hyunjin whispers, lips brushing your forehead.

"I love you."

-

Immediately after breakfast the next morning, you and Hyunjin had to start getting ready for the actual wedding.

He offered to help you style your hair and you helped him with his tie.

Your hands tremble in excitement as you tie it, Hyunjin's eyes never leaving your face.

"Too tight?"- you ask and look up at him.

"No, it's perfect."- he smiles, seeing you in the beautiful dress you had on makes his heart beat wildly in his chest.

You look him up and down, the sight of him looking so freaking handsome in a suit has you folding for him.

"You look unreal."- you say and Hyunjin laughs, throwing his head back a little.

"Really? Have you seen yourself, baby?"- he asks.

"Just take my compliment, okay?"- you chuckle.

"Okay."- he shakes his head, smiling fondly.

The setting of the actual wedding on the beach is ethereal, even though there were so many people and you feel a little overwhelmed, Hyunjin is there to hold your hand.

Both of you are glued to each other, you being a little anxious and him being an introvert, and you feel like you're still in this bubble where it's just the two of you there and no one else.

Nicki looks absolutely breathtaking, the smile gracing her face is probably the happiest one you've ever seen.

You and Hyunjin stand together on her side as she exchanges vows with her soon to be husband. Ofcourse, you can't help but start crying and Hyunjin puts his arms around you, comforting you with his gentle touch and whispers of love.

"Fyi, I want a small wedding."- you say between sobs.

"Oh?"- Hyunjin chuckles and you gasp.

"Ignore that. I don't know why I said that."- your face heats up as you wipe your tears away.

"Good to know. For the future."- he smirks, leaning into you and kissing your cheek.

Everything seems absolutely perfect, the weather, the food, the music, the overall vibe feels impeccable. Especially after the first dance of the newlyweds, when the dancefloor opens for everyone else, and Hyunjin takes your hand in his leading you out to dance under the stars.

It's cliche but you feel like your feet aren't even touching the ground as you glide with your lover, it's like you're floating on air and the rest of the world doesn't exist.

"What happens when we go back?"- you ask, a sudden nervousness washing through you.

"I was hoping you'd be my girlfriend and we can continue loving each other just like this."- Hyunjin smiles, his eyes shiny.

"I love the sound of that."- you smile back at him and lean up to kiss his lips.

You hope the feeling of weightlessness with Hyunjin lasts forever.

(Hyunjin accidentally catches the bouquet later on and everyone teases you that you're next.)

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght

[missust3l3vision]

Hi! Can you please write a cute story about George and the reader! Like she’s in a really cuddly mood and they spend all day cuddling. Stolen kisses. The whole nine yards. Just disgusting cute! I also wouldn’t mind a follow up story with George getting the cuddle bug.

P.s. LOVE YOUR WRITING 💞

Oh my goodness this is so cute!! And thank you so much anon!

Cup of Cast

Description: George has broken his wrist and Y/n can't seem to leave his side. Whether to take care of him or just to cuddle he can't tell.

Three days ago George slipped when playing soccer on a damp field and broke his wrist. He had decided to take a small break from filming until his arm was a little less fragile.

This Sunday morning he laid in bed next to his girlfriend. He had woken up to the feeling of her drawing circles on his okay hand.

This was a common way to wake up for him, she was always so gentle. Turning to check the clock on the bed side table he saw it was ten past ten. Moving his hand away from yours and blocking the sun from his eyes he spoke.

"Don't you have a hike planned with Liv today?" He asked with his arm draped over his face, the pain in his wrist dulled by the painkillers but not yet gone.

"Not anymore, she was happy to have more time with Isaac when I cancelled. I thought i should stick around and keep you company" He was grateful that his arm was hiding his face, as a grin grew under.

"Mhm, you're obsessed with me." He teased, you nudging his exposed cheek. Him letting out a hushed giggle.

His morning voice always made Y/n feel warm, crawling in closer she nuzzled into his side, his arm moving to hold her.

"How's your arm?" She asked, him bringing it up. The cast was a light blue and all his friends signed it. Her humming in understanding of his silent demonstration. "Want breakfast?"

"A cuppa would be lovely," He said kissing the top of her head. "I'll put on something to watch while you make it. I've got to pull my weight some way."

You stood up and stretched, each pop making George raise his eyebrow a little higher. Walking out he grabbed the remote by his bed and opened Netflix and began to browse.

Not long later you entered the room with buttered toast and mugs of tea. You frowned at the sight of him. He was clearly in pain, when he noticed you his smile snapped back into place like a rubber band.

"I'm in the mood for something cute, want to watch Clueless?" You hummed in agreement and handed him a plate and walking around the bed to put down his cup.

"Are you doing anything today?" George shook his head taking a bite of the toast.

"Nothing, I don't want to do anything either." Sitting so close your elbow is in his lap you leaned closer. His good arm wrapping around you and only moving to feed himself toast or sip his tea.

The movie was a nice way to start the day. Once breakfast was done you put the dishes to the side and began to spoon. His bad arm on your hip and eyes glued to the screen.

"Paul Rudd is so hot." You whispered, him pulling you tighter into him. "Hey!" You yelped when he turned you over and kissed your cheek.

"Want to repeat that?" When you went to, he kissed your lips, "I dare you to try again." His smug grin told you more than you had to know.

"Well what about Brittany Murphy?" You asked him giving you a confused look, he was so expressive when it was just you two.

It was always a weird thought to you. How different he was when with his friends or on camera.

He was loud and goofy with you. The kind of boyfriend to throw his dirty socks at you before getting into bed, a man who when he orders food orders double of his meal and one of yours because he knows you will want some.

Hugging eachother close you told him she played Tai, and his eyes went wide before denying it.

"I only have eyes for you." He said so earnestly it made you forget everything else in the world. It was just you and George, and he was love in with you.

"Fuck Paul Rudd, you're the one for me." He smirked. A proud light coming off him in a way. Once the credits began to roll you asked "Want to watch something else?"

"Hmm, what's something with the same style?" You put on Legally Blonde and switched snuggle positions.

You had his head in your lap, sitting against the head board. He asked the occasional question. Whether about the movie or just life.

"Did your mum get her nails done? I know she was wanting one." He asked during one of the various courtroom scenes.

"Yeah, they're cute. Was thinking of getting similar ones." He hummed. Before asking the next question.

You couldn't tell if he was bored or just genuinely curious, whatever the reason you answered each one.

"I have a question for you Mr. Clarke." His eyes lifted to look at you, "How's your hand?"

"Could be better, I miss using it." Your hands found their way to his hair, raking your fingers through his curls. "At this point you're showing off." He told you.

A small laugh escaping you before turning back to the movie. His lingering on you, they always did.

You were ethereal to him, he would never admit it but he was glad his wrist snapped. Having an excuse to spend time with you, doing absolutely nothing, has made him feel light as a feather.

Today was everything he needed it to be, and you were the one to thank. And he promised that he would.