#I suddenly thought this out of nowhere and I just thought it fits them. the og song could feature laios interrupting/singing along XD

[dawdlecentric]

I haven't finished the manga but I think someone should make a farcille animatic with the song "For The Dancing and The Dreaming" for a happy ending between them just in case they somehow end up with a doomed tragic yuri ending

If it did already exist through fanart, pls share it I wanna see!! Also, care to share some farcille animatics/edits... 👉👈

[mandalhoerian]

moth to a flame | leon kennedy x reader

pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader

summary: Break-ups are never easy. Thankfully, you've been preparing for yours for a long time. Leon doesn't let this revelation go for reasons you cannot fathom when he's the one who wants to leave.

word count: 9K

warnings: angst, smut, thigh riding, p in v, kinda body worship, switch leon, he subs for like a moment and goes this better not awaken anything in me

notes: i winged this please don't judge me. also, "plot"-wise, this is an extension of my leon love language post. header template can be found here. enjoy the filth

🌀 read on ao3!

📍 continue to the BAD ENDING!

📍 continue to the GOOD ENDING!

In hindsight, you’ve seen this coming. Your face barely moves at your on and off situationship of two years forcing out, “I think we should break this off.” 

So faint and unsure it’s barely above a whisper.  

He looks so uncomfortable hunching over, forearms resting on the countertop, breakfast untouched, as if trying to make himself smaller than you, it’s absurd considering the nerves of steel you envy him for, and sure, he’s adorably awkward sometimes for a man of his looks, but not like this. Never vulnerable like this.

The kitchen is gloomy despite the bright winter sun seeping through the windows, almost suffocating because of his uncharacteristically transparent malaise. Leon isn’t one to openly squirm, and in turn, it’s making you all the more nervous — nothing about this is fair when you were thinking you got all the practice needed from imaginary scenarios and possibilities on all the directions the eventual separation would go.  

He can’t look at you, shaking his head nervously, choked by the silence. “Say something.”

How funny it is that he’s the most fit man you’ve ever known, could lift you with one arm without breaking a sweat— one bicep literally the size of your head, yet looks like he’d cry if someone touched him right now. It’s a hard to swallow, unreal pill that you’re the one doing this to Leon, making him weak like this. 

You’ve never known you had that kind of power over him until now, how he says he wants to break up but would throw up if you actually say yes.  

You shift in your seat, the wood of the chair suddenly digs sharply into your skin with how hyperaware your body is of all the surroundings to deviate your attention from Leon, folding your hands on your lap. 

The answer is at the tip of your tongue, it was stashed away there months ago. Of course you’ll let him go. 

What makes it easier for you is having consented to how absent and private he warned half the things involving him was going to be, or it’s that you knew from the start your time with him would be limited. You just don’t question it; completely skipping the first four stages of grief and jumping readily to acceptance. 

The lamb knew it would be slaughtered by the nurturing, kind humans, and yet it still got attached to them; Homer straight up told the readers how the story would end right at the start of Iliad, yet the fall of Patroclus and the rage of Achilles burned the same, if not worse — you knew Leon would inevitably fall apart and run away one day, yet chose to cherish your limited time with him all the same.

It can’t be called a tragedy if you agreed to how it would end in the first place. 

Leon Kennedy is ephemeral in his nature, daydream-present and lucid-absent in your life all at once. You thought of him as an outdoors cat, never really yours in the first place, randomly shows up whenever he wants to, reluctantly leaves out of nowhere — a flighty, mysterious companion who’s happy and eager to be there but withdrawn when poked and prodded. 

You accept him as such, love him all the same.  

You’re not sure if he loves you just as much. 

Fondness and like is there, enough for him to have stuck around for this long, but you figure it’s because you’re safe and constant. You’re happy to have provided him with at least that because you’re not sure what he saw in you, to be honest. 

What’s happening is painless enough to go through exactly because of this, you hadn’t let yourself get too attached to Leon knowing he isn’t into you as much as you are into him. Maybe you are deluding yourself, maybe you are numb and not as apathetic like you thought you are, but you’re convinced this is how it should go — how it’s meant to go. What’s the point when you’re aware your name won’t be at the top of his list? 

The insecurity surely is a small part of the ‘Leon Kennedy Breakup First-Aid Package’ you’ve been cultivating over time in preparation to cushion your own fall when the time would naturally come, but it doesn’t cover the shape Leon is in that even when he’s the one breaking your heart, he looks like he’s shouldering the pain you’re going through on top of his. 

This is why you can’t ever be mad at him. You wanted to be with him knowing the way he is, after all. 

Leon is a mess despite trying not to show it, his messy straw-blond hair doesn’t shine like it usually does, he hasn’t conditioned it, the golden sheen to it wilted almost. His bloodshot, red rimmed eyes are dim in their blue, laser-focused on the black coffee mug he’s tightly gripping, the skin underneath his lower lashes spread out in faded pink-purple half-rings and it only ever happens when he hasn’t gotten enough sleep in more than a couple days’ time whenever he has to be away for an unprecedented amount of time, or gets buried too long in his paperwork. His thumbs are wiping at the place he puts his lips on and have a sip at the contents of it you’ve seen he fed some liquor to a few minutes prior. He’s awfully domestic in his black sweater and pants, not at all looking like he just asked for a breakup.   

You take pity on him. 

“I see. Alright.”

His head shoots up, eyes immediately finding yours, no longer blank. He doesn’t seem sure if he heard you right, expression disbelieving. “What?”

“How do you want to do this?” Mirroring Leon’s anxious movements, your own fingers trace the rim of your own teacup. “You could start gathering your things today, but if you want to call it a day, I don’t mind—”

“No—wait—what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying okay, Leon.”

He winces at the name, gaze escaping from you again momentarily and he has to blink, the lack of your usual pet name for him must have hurt him, you presume. He has to swallow before talking. “This is it?”

You’re not sure if it’s directed at the end of your relationship or you letting him off easy. “I don’t understand. What else was I supposed to say?” 

“I don’t know, I just—”

This isn’t being hopeful, but you ask anyway. “What did you want me to say?” 

He sighs in return, tearing away his gaze and hiding it with a hand that wipes at his forehead.

Yeah, it isn’t your hopes that were crushed. You adamantly tell yourself it isn’t. He’s being nice as he always is, of course he’d question how agreeable you’re being, it’s not like his resolve is going to change. “I’m just being cooperative so we can—”

“Aren’t you angry with me?”

That was the problem?

“I’m not, Leon.” 

“How can you not be?”

“Well, I…” It’s because you love him, but bringing this up would only make it harder. “I’m not sure. You’ve been that good to me along the way, I guess. I don’t resent you for anything.”

He has that subtle sarcastic look on his face you would take as mocking if you were a total stranger, but you know better. He’s being self-deprecating. You could read it. But you should, he’s thinking. You should resent me. 

You don’t. 

The thing with Leon is he’s too good to be true that his only flaw is being a literal ghost. A well-meaning ghost who’d send presents upon presents and work his ass off to make extra time for what he had to give up on every time your plans falls through with unexpected shit that came up from his mystery job at the White House he never talks about that has him battered and bruised each time he turns up after prolonged leaves.  

Which is an oxymoron considering how attentive and absent he is at the same time. Sometimes you wondered if he’d fix his habit of being a clam about everything concerning himself after you guys were through, but imagining him becoming more open and changing for someone else hurt too much.

“Don’t you want to know why? I mean—god, why are you just taking it?” 

“What do you mean taking it? You’re not doing this to hurt me, look at you, Leon, when have you last slept? It’s hard on you too.” 

“That really doesn’t have to do with anything right now,” he dismisses. “How are you this unaffected? I’ll take it if it’s to get back at me…”

“It’s not.” You stand up, appetite lost. You want to wrap your food up and put it in the fridge to eat later, and this way, you don’t have to look at him while saying the sentences you have rehearsed for so long. “If you want to break up, I can’t force you to stay—or into anything you don’t want to. It’s not fair for either of us. You’ll be stuck with someone who you don’t want, and I’ll have to live with the knowledge I’m with someone who doesn’t want me.” 

You find him staring at you when you’re done, your hand stays wrapped around the handle of the fridge door at how tortured he is. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shakes his head, blond strands framing his face gently swishing in the air. He does the angry eyebrow scrunch whenever he disagrees with you strongly on something you’ve said, but decides not to at the last minute, and you find yourself the tiniest bit disappointed at him not refusing he doesn’t want you. “You always— you always do this... Be angry. You have to be angry at me.”

You find refuge in the kitchen sink, washing your hands. “Stop it. I don’t want to fight, please.”

“So you are angry.”

“I’m not!” You slam the water shut a bit too forceful and you breathe for a second before turning to him. “I’m not. Angry. I’m sad, yeah. An understatement. Who wouldn’t be?” 

He just says, “I’m sorry,” at that, and hates it’s the only thing he can manage to give you, it’s blatant in his face. 

You take a seat at the chair directly next to him, you both need the intimacy of good communication at the moment. “But I had a lot of time to mourn, alright? It’s not that I’m taking it or being passive or whatever—”

“Mourn?”

His eyes search yours for a second, and the realization leaves him breathless, the insides of his brows raise up, making him look younger and more innocent. “You were expecting this.”

“Yeah, I mean.” Your lips press together, and you chew the insides before hopelessly shrugging, a small smile doing its best to put itself together. “Look at us. It was never going to work out in the long term. Not really. I consider two years a miracle, to be honest. I don’t know how we got this far.”

“All this time we were together.” Leon’s voice is thick, on the verge of shaking, you weren’t expecting him to take this so badly. His pupils devour all the blue from his eyes, he has never looked at you this hostile before all the hair on your arms rise up. “You were just thinking about breaking up? Have I only ever made you insecure?”

“Not all the time—it’s just—” You swallow. ““Why are you angry at me now? What did I do? You are the one breaking up with me.”

“And here you are okay with this. You’re telling me you didn’t think we’d ever work out when I—” He huffs. “I didn’t even notice a thing. You weren’t happy at all. Ever? You were uneasy all this time?”

“No, Leon, you’re not listening to me. What I expected was that you would leave one day, eventually. Because that’s how you are. That’s how your life is.” He leans back when he gets what you are alluding at, rubbing his face with a hand, refusing to look at you — but out of anger this time around. “I know you wouldn’t be able to stand being in limbo about not letting yourself go and wanting to at the same time. I know you felt bad about everything. I guess it’s just not the right time?”

You don’t say, right person and wrong time, it’s wishful thinking on your part—Leon probably doesn’t think that, someone else seems to take that crown in his heart, you know that all too well. 

The muscles on his arm closest to you flexes, he must be thinking about taking your hand in his, so you remove them off the table and nestle them between your thighs. Any physical contact from him might lead to you crying in the end. 

“I’m sorry I made you go through all that,” he laments. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

Your head tilts sideways. “It wasn’t about me, Leon. Suppose I sat you down and complained you weren’t open with me, you were distant. Especially when you weren’t ready for the conversation. I’ll tell you what would have happened. Two weeks of radio silence.”

“Ah, c’mon…”

“It’s not something you haven’t done before. You said it was work, but… You know. I get it.”

Leon exhales from his nose and lowers his head, broad chest puffing up with rapid breaths, his neck is getting redder by the second. You’ve never taken him for someone with an explosive anger, but it looks like that could change any second. 

“I wish you wouldn’t take this to heart, I’m not saying this to hurt you when I say I knew this was always going to happen.” You’re talking like you’re trying to soothe a tiger, and he especially looks to hate it. “You can’t possibly have expected me to ignore it. And it wasn’t going to come from me either, I’m happy to be with you either way, but—”

“That’s the problem.” He has his head between his hands, like that could possibly hide him away from the conversation. “I treat you like this and you still say that.”

You wish he wouldn’t be this hard on himself.

“I signed up for this.” He tilts his head at that, accusatory, and you get more agitated in return. “I know your circumstances. You can’t help being absent most of the time, I understand. I understand more than you think.” His forearms hit the counter loudly, he looks about to spit fire any second, but you don’t let it happen. “However. It’s no way to continue a relationship, I know that too. My perspective is that it shouldn’t be guilt that comes to your mind whenever you think of me. I wish things could be different. I wish I could be a priority to you—”

Leon’s face sours, and you stop talking when you see it. 

You didn’t mean for the words to hurt him as they did, explanations becoming distraught. “Look, I like you, you know this. Possibly too much. More than I should. You have to understand that’s why I’m being this amicable with you right now. Break-ups don’t always have to end in fights, sometimes things just don’t work out, and that’s what’s happening right now, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t reach Leon. His gaze is faraway, defined jawline locked clenching and unclenching. 

“If it makes you feel better, I was angry for a while.” His hand comes down from rubbing a circle in the middle of his brows, eyes shifting back to yours. “But it is what it is.”

“You’re not even gonna ask?” he says, defeated.

“Would you tell me anything different from what I know?”

He opens his mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a sigh, one of his legs shaking, and his head falls forward, curtains of dark blond hair covering your view of his face. For a moment, all you want is to slip your fingers into the silky strands and comb them back, take his heat away, the pads of your fingers on his smooth cheekbones, you know he’d melt into your touch straight away and his expression would lose weight of the strain he carries you can only imagine the root of most of the time, but you abstain. 

He wouldn’t appreciate it on the brink of a break-up, you were about to become nothing but strangers. 

That’s why it’s abrupt when he leans forward and captures your lips in an unfair, unfair kiss, the force of it makes his teeth clack against yours and you grimace, retreating to break it. His hand slips to the side of your neck to pull you back in, the drag of calluses and heat against the skin of your neck sends goosebumps all over your body, his thumb caresses your cheek in a loving way that hurts but his lips are frantic in their gentler search to open your mouth to his, and suddenly you can’t breathe from how much Leon keeps advancing. 

Turning your face away to break the assertive, overwhelming liplock, you take in lungfuls of air as you look as away from him as you can, panicking at the way he presses his forehead to your temple and the way his nose nudges your burning cheek, he doesn’t budge when you attempt to push him off the second you realize you’re enjoying this. He’s built like a fucking tank. “Leon—”

“Say no if you don’t want it,” he breathes, right into your neck, the tickle is mixed with something dangerous that sears your skin along with the low rumble to his voice directly in your ear, and you have to stop yourself from squirming, a coil of incandescence binds its threads together in the depths of your stomach. “Say it and I’ll stop.” One muscular arm hooks around the back of your upper thigh and one around your waist, he quite literally snatches you off your chair and plops you down on his lap, each of your legs hang from the sides of his hips, and you yelp at how effortlessly Leon seems to arrange you to his liking. 

He’s needlessly, uncharacteristically cruel. You would always want him. Leon knows this. 

“You’re so—” Your breath hitches when his fingers bypass your shirt and sneak up the bare skin of your waist and his other arm readjusts you as he buries his forehead in your shoulder and you gaze at the top of his golden hair kissed by morning sunlight and take in the familiar scent of him and his shampoo. His body against yours leaves a festering sweet longing. “So unfair—you were just breaking up with me—”

He bites down at the meat of your clavicle and you draw in a short breath, the dig of his teeth sting, but he immediately soothes it with a lick and his tongue is hot, too hot. “Unfair?” he groans, you contain the shudder at the emotion he keeps at bay and at the path his blunt fingernails make above the clothing from your hips to the sides of your legs, he’s never been like this. “You already left me in your mind before this and I don’t even know exactly when.” The tip of his nose faintly traces the curve of where your neck meets the shoulder, the tickle is unbearable, aching, you wish he would have left marks instead. “You were always thinking of leaving— our time together didn’t matter to you. What do you think that makes me feel like?”

“That’s not—” You grip both of his biceps and feel the protruding veins and the flex of the muscle underneath the skin, intimidated as always by how both of your hands added together were too small to form a full hold around one. I work out a lot, was his excuse while you were first getting to know each other as acquaintances, and you’d thought how this man belonged with someone of his league. “You’re the one—” 

“You dummy, I’m not leaving you because I want to.” Leon’s arms circle your waist and pulls your body flush against his in a crushing hug, his head finding home under your chin and against your chest. It’s innocent and you feel the helplessness, the desire to hold but not be seen, but you don’t know what to do in return, his words don’t quite register. “Why would I ever when I—“ He cuts himself off, breathing shaky as the rest of the sentence dies at his throat. “Jesus, I can’t believe this.”

You tentatively hold his shoulders, surprised at how taut they are. How winded he is like some wire. “I don’t understand.”

“You are just letting me leave like that. Like some business deal done and gone, you just…” 

You can’t help the sound that escapes as he bites your earlobe. Why does he keep biting? 

“Ow!—“ Leon starts sucking, the wet sounds and his breathing directly in your ear sending shivers down your spine, and you’ve had enough of his thought processes ending up being completed by his lips on your body. 

He’s easily able to overpower you, but obeys when he feels you’re genuinely pushing him away, some strands of your hair get stuck on his face and the view of the detained obscenity of his expression  —the half-closed eyes and the missing blue, the flush of his cheekbones, glistening of his pinked lips— sends a hot wave downstairs. “It’s you. You! You’re the one leaving, Leon, I don’t get it—“

Some clarity through the pinkish haze of want dawns back to him, and he gingerly combs the threads of hair away from your face, some of them behind your ear. “I don’t want to. That’s the thing. I thought it was clear as day.” Leon searches your eyes, looking down at the details of your face, your heart races as his stare gets stuck at your lips the longest, he isn’t even aware he’s doing it and you feel feverishly desired from his insatiable look, from the slow movement of his Adam’s apple. “But—“

“You can’t help it. Right?” Your thoughts are blurring together, and he’s a black hole pulling you in. “I understand—“

Leon kisses you again, and your stolen exhale turns into a pleased hum. “Stop saying that,” he whispers with inches between your lips, eyes closed, so close your breath is his.  

“What do you want me to say?“

“Stay.” He takes your hand and brings it up, planting a singular kiss at the inside of your wrist, and then rests his cheek against your palm. You can only stare at the vulnerability he’s offering you on a silver platter, the tormenting softness is blinding. “Stay.” 

Your heart soars. God, you’ve longed for him to give away that he wants to be with you all this time, the insecurity is a blanket you’ve hidden under, this is it, but he’s so torn and you don’t get his struggle, what he must be hiding for such a visceral reaction. He wants to, but he can’t, and you don’t know why, having accepted he wouldn’t tell you from the start anyway. 

But you ask. You ask anyway. Hope is a flightless bird waiting for her wings to grow each day. “Will you?”

Something shifts, a delicate moment broken, and Leon draws back, his eyelashes flutter as if he’s shaking off some daydream — and then he’s upset, a pinch in his brow. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I can’t—“ You’re grabbed from the arms and scooted away from his lap, putting some distance between the two of you. Leon is physically pained, unable to meet your eyes. “I don’t know why I’m being like this.” He holds your hands between the two of you, and you get whiplash from the passion just mere seconds ago and the tenderness of this touch. “I can’t keep doing this to you. I don’t know why I’m this unreasonable, it’s so childish— Shit. I’m sorry, I’ll just—“

“No.” You cup his face in both hands and he looks like an abused puppy tasting kindness for the first time. “Stay for a bit.” Your heartstrings are tugged by the way Leon’s eyes are lit up. “I want to have you. One last time. Is that alright?”

A beat passes.

“Yeah,” he says, blanking out at first, but then repeats stronger, his fingers sink into the plush of your thighs as he licks his lips. “Yeah.” He turns his head and kisses your palm, somber. “You can have me however you want.”

Leon doesn’t look like he’s particularly looking forward to it. “You sure?”

“I’ll always want you, any day, any time,” he says, and you’re flabbergasted at the burden of his meaning. But you force yourself to look past it, look past the unguarded and unarmed honesty, choosing to interpret it in the language of lust. 

“Not here, though.” You get up from his lap and he doesn’t stop you. “It’s kinda cramped.”

“We can make it work if you’re up for it,” he half-teases, one corner of his lips curling up, his eyes are humorless. 

You snort. Easy for him to say. He’s fit, you aren’t, that’s why being on top can’t last half the time without his assistance. “You can. I certainly can’t.”

“You keep saying I can’t to me, knowing I take it as a personal challenge.” Leon’s touch moves up your forearm and in one swift move, he pulls you in between his legs. He leaves a kiss at the lower valley between your clothed breasts. “Maybe you’re doing it on purpose?”

You’re heating up right away. “I’m not—”

Leon pats his right leg, pulling up the sleeve of his shorts all the way up to the hipbone, exposing the well-endowed, firm thigh. “Sit here.”

“Your leg’s gonna get a cramp,” you say, but it’s hardly a complaint, your crotch has begun to contract at the thought of feeling the flawless skin slipping against your slick folds and how he would mold the tendons to fit just right for your pleasure. Expectation was pulling you tight right from the start where he had you hanging from his every word.  

Leon’s almost offended. “It won’t.” But his encouragement is gentle. “Come on, sweet girl.” Hooking one arm between the two layers of the bands of your underwear and pants, he lets them snap back against your skin after he pulls considerably. “And you’re taking off all that.”

You let it go. Immediately. “Fuck, okay.” 

It’s morning. You’re in the middle of the kitchen. And you’ve forgotten all of that, head lost in the beginnings of a dull throb between your legs. Your dignity would have been trampled on if you were too enthusiastic, so you try to take your time, and he asks, “How do you want to go about this?”

“Huh?”

His hands ride up your knee and inch up, his thumbs in the line of your inner thighs, and your first instinct is to press them together to alleviate the ache, but Leon’s forcing them apart. “You can have my tongue or fingers first. To help the friction.” You swallow when the nail of his thumb scratches the material of your panties and feels the slight dampness, and he’s watching your reactions very closely. “Or you could just sit down.”

You don’t have strength left in your knees anymore, head spinning with the way his darkened, narrowed gaze is simultaneously bearing down on and  looking up at you, and Leon helps you settle your weight on his leg after sliding your underwear down your legs, the warmth of his palms on your naked hips alone is vexing enough and it’s embarrassing that he feels the particularly strong pulse of your sex. 

He angles his leg up and you slide forward with the gathered moisture, arms catching onto his neck in surprise from the sudden jolt of pleasure. “Eager, are we?”  

You aren’t normally bold like this, would let him keep softly teasing rather than give the same energy back, but there’s a certain finality to this time, your brain is liquid smooth from the tantalizing delight of his touch, and you don’t hold back to inform just what he does to you breathily. “Always for you.”

The movement of his leg staggers and you look up to see him caught completely off guard. And the next thing you know, Leon has you in a bruising kiss, or you think it has the strength to bruise, he hasn’t been this rough before, and you certainly haven’t been craved to this extent in your entire life before him. 

This time you accept his tongue willingly into the cavern of your mouth, his fervent licks and gasps rise the question of who’s really the more eager one here, but it doesn’t really occupy space in your mind, limbs stilling overall from how he steals away all bodily functions with just kisses that radiate desperation. 

Leon ushers your hips to languidly move when you fail as a multitasker all the while the swirl of your tongues continue to tangle, and it proves difficult as your slide against him becomes smoother and wetter with him finding just how to pull the hood of your mound while you’re pulling back and drag against it in the correct angle, flexing his thigh accordingly. 

He pecks your jaw. “Faster?”

Skin contact goes straight to the tightening spiral in your stomach like this. “I can’t—”

“Don’t say you can’t.” He does something that has you dropping down from heights by circling his leg, and completely out of your control, small noises emerge from the back of your throat and you can’t kiss him back anymore. “Do you want it faster or not?”

You try to hum in agreement, but he catches you in the middle of it and jerks you forward, the sharp zap electrifies all your nerves and grants him a startled moan, you can barely see the satisfaction in his face from the sudden tears. You were somehow in control of the pace previously, but once he knows you want it faster, it’s him that anchors your hips to the edge of the stars, a man on a mission. 

Leon begins to leave open-mouthed, wet kisses on your neck that has you tilting your head to give him more room, and you’re glad his heavy gaze isn’t drinking in your bliss-stricken expression anymore. “You hear that?” His question is thick. “Listen.” 

The noises your wetness make sliding across the muscles of his thigh in a rapid speed makes some of the blood rush up to your cheeks, and the knot is stretched so agonizingly beyond the point of no return that you’re hurling towards absolution, legs beginning to shake and your whines become sweeter. “Leon,” you pant, the fever to keep going as he is conveyed in one singular word reaches him. “Leon—ah, mmh— I’m— Leon!”

“Yeah, I got you.” Adoring kisses are peppered along your jawline and your fingers clutch to his blond hair, pulling him in, your stiffened, perked up nipples are smushed in the press of his chest against yours, and you arch into him like a cat, lost in the ascending ecstasy. “Just let go.” He bites down and your sore walls clench around nothing, the pulsating increasing in intensity. You’re on a thrill ride, shooting up, up, up— “Come for me, sweet girl, come on, give it to me.”  

With a sharp, choked cry, and the throw of your head back, the coil explodes and unravels, white sparkles in your vision, and Leon holds you down when your body tries to fly off with the force of your orgasm, the sinking of his hands into your sensitive flesh only heightens and sends crashing waves as he helps you ride through it, rocking lazily with you back and forth. 

“Oh god,” you shiver, clinging to him, upper body basically draped across his chest as the pleasure rolls into a stinging ache of pain with the overstimulation, bones jiggly from the floaty feeling to get away yourself. “Too much. Leon. Too much.”

His voice is croaky. “Yeah, we’re not done yet.” 

He stands up with his arms supporting your legs around his waist, and you hold on for dear life. It scares every single time he does this. Leon makes it look so easy to carry you around from room to room without breaking a sweat. 

The full meaning of his words only get to you when you’re thrown on the bed, wind knocked out of you. “Leon, wait, aren’t you going to Spain tomorrow, don’t you have to prepare—”

“I’m preparing,” he says, putting one knee on the bed and oh god, the shine on his thigh, the drench, that was all you—- “Need to get my fill of you to last for the whole trip, yeah?”

It’s more like he’s saying, ‘To last for the rest of my life’, the hunger and melancholy makes for a Frankenstein’s monster of ravenous, unquenchable yearning when you’re right in front of him and your flame is rekindled.  

More than one round with him is uncommon most times because he’s simply busy and moves around a lot, you weren’t used to the practice, build wired to exhaustion taking over when he was finally done with you, either hot, heavy and fast or sweet and intense, each time leaving you with honeyed sore bones and the best sleep following right after. 

Arousal pools in the pit of your belly thinking about what comes next. 

Kneeling at your feet, he taps your tight-locked  knees. “Open up for me.”

It’s morning. He could see every detail of imperfection in this light and uncertainty washes over you for a second before you do as he wishes, the sheets crinkling and rustling beneath your shifting, and he gets on his stomach and puts one of your legs to his shoulder when you thought he would be entering you already. 

Flustered, you get up on your elbows. “Leon, you don’t have to.” 

“Didn’t think you wanted to get it over with right away.” Sliding his hand up, he fans his fingers on your tummy, thumb pulling at the skin dipping into your vulva, and looks up at you from his eyelashes. Little sparks of pleasure light up at each stroke. The weight of his arm is wonderful. “Breaking my heart over here.”

“It’s not that, I…”

He scooches up, and the knowingly feather-light kiss he leaves on the inside of your thigh, close — right there but not there, makes your leg twitch. “Oh, you wanted something else?” The teasing view of Leon inches away from where you wanted him was a sight for sore eyes, but his sudden hot breath on your post-orgasmic sopping heat broke your daze, making your hips attempt to jump up, but his arm had you absolutely pinned on the mattress. “Well?” 

It’s not something you’d planned, but his wanton beauty looking up at you shoves an image inside your brain unexpectedly, reminding you how you’d said you wanted to have him, not the other way around. This is going to be the last time Leon would be like this with you, and there were so many things left unexplored. What would it feel like to have this feline-gracious, strapping man underneath you, to run your lips through his unbelievably sturdy body all over and return the kindness on how good he’s been taking care of you? Leon was always perfect to you. Is perfect. Your wish to present him with how exactly on top of the world he has you feeling for your final time, to return the favor. 

Leon has stopped moving and it’s because of your lack of reaction and the long look of contemplation regarding him. You lift his hair away from his eyes. “Can you lay down on your back?”

“You wanna get on top?” he asks, but doesn’t object to it, moving up on the bed and sitting up, getting the hint on taking off his clothes, enamored, you watch his abdomen flex and limbs stretch like a cat’s as he slips his shirt off and throws it away and shimmy off his briefs. Every single movement of his is a wonder. 

“No, I want to touch you,” you say, stare not knowing where to focus on him and his half-hard dick jumps at your words. “Explore you.”

He meets your eyes, pupils blown, and swallows, nodding. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“I wanted to have you, remember?” 

There’s a semblance of a laugh and Leon rolls on his back, one knee up and hands on his stomach, blond hair fanning around his head on the sheets. He looks like a sculpture. “And how will you have me?”

“Pleasured without thinking of pleasuring,” you explain, he’d be better at the dirty-talk in your position, perhaps say something like ‘Crying for me’, but you’re way too fascinated by him to think about what would have him helplessly turned on. “Vulnerable.”

You would be lucky if you are able to push him to the point of not even one thought behind those pretty blue eyes, but you just want to make him feel good, and with that in mind, reach a hand and trail the tips of your fingers through the prominent web of veins along his forearm, his fingers jump, and you continue through his upper arm, lingering on the sharp lines of lighter-colored small scars until you reach his shoulder, feeling the cluster of the goosebumps that rise in his skin. 

“Seriously?” he says with an annoyed timbre and you see him having gone completely hard, eyebrows shooting up in shock. “You’re going this slow? Am I some package you’re unboxing?” 

“You seem to be enjoying it,” you murmur in interest, and Leon sulks at how you run all five of your fingernails all the way down the lower of his belly button and how it’s hardly even a graze at all. His abs keep contracting. “I barely touched you.”

“You, haah,” he sighs at you straddling and hovering above him. “Don’t need to point that out.”

Leon tries to hold onto your thighs but you maneuver him away, and unsurprisingly, he isn’t pleased by that, groaning. “Oh we’re doing this?”

“I’m touching you. Stay still like a good boy.”

It’s your usual banter, but for some reason, he turns his face away and closes his eyes for a second, wetting his lips as if his mouth is dry. The line of his neck clenches and unclenches and you feel the brush of his dick lightly hit the inside of your leg. You’re fascinated again. He likes this more than you expected. “God, you really want to kill me.”

Leon could stop it if he wanted to. Switch it around. It’s not like he hasn’t done it before. All the times you’ve attempted to ride him and your knees and calves failed you, he ended up sitting up and hugging you close, fucking up into you and kneading your insides from below and littering your shoulders with angry red marks, taking control of the pace, especially riled up from how endearing and sexy you were trying your best to pleasure him, in his words. He can do it again, but doesn’t. Just lies there, all for you, stuck between a rock and a hard place — which, in this case, is his discomfort and enjoyment. The lack of stimulation gets him going. 

You lean down and nip at the corner of his mouth, and he responds immediately, turning back to you, chasing the kiss. His hands come up to your waist but you take them off, pinning them to his sides, and Leon complains through sharply breathing into your mouth. “I’ll only,” Kiss. “Hold you.” Kiss. “Please, just let me—” You lightly bite his tongue. 

As if he couldn’t do it if he truly wanted to. He is letting you do this to him. Pleading. In that tone of voice, too. You’re in over your head, what is happening? 

“No,” you say, kissing his jaw and caressing the hinge of his opposite jaw with your thumb, sounding stern but feeling silly inside, unsure if he’s amused by you deep down. But Leon huffs again like a spoiled brat not getting what he wants. 

You’re shell-shocked, but continue your pursuit to find out what else he likes, settling on his ear, making a line through the outer rim of soft tissue with your tongue and sucking kisses until he’s shifting around, you can hear how he’s trying to level out his breathing, then you bite, and he hisses as you repeat it over and over again. 

You’ve heard that some men enjoy getting their nipples played with, and you caress and massage, knead and fondle all over his torso with both hands as the switching of your gentle and silky mouth and the needling pleasure of teeth assault his ear, and you listen to his heavy breathing the occasional hitch of it until you circle around one nub, and flick it, rubbing down and pressing the pebbled nipple inwards, just like how he does it to you, and twist the other one. His face hides itself in your neck, and you let him have that, at least. 

His exhale turns into sound and he shuts it down pretty quickly, opting to speak up instead. “Can you—” he begins, and then tuts, sounding nonchalant, but you hear it. You hear the thickness of contained arousal. “Can you move on already?”

“You want the other ear?”

His head jerks in your position at you saying that straight into his ear and breathing into it, you know the thin sheen of saliva coating it makes the sensation sharp and cool and warming at the same time. “No—” he says, but you ignore him, cutting the rejection off by taking his other earlobe between your teeth. “Jesus Christ, this isn’t necessary—”

“If it isn’t, why is this wet?” You ask, watching him closely, tapping the pearl of clear liquid gathered at the tip of his ramrod straight hardness. It’s scalding hot, throbbing at the contact. Leon hisses between his teeth, trying to contain it, and sighs as your index finger circles the tip to spread it around, another bead of precum swelling in the wake of your touch. His eyebrows are scrunched, lips thinning and returning to their usual plushness with him pushing them together, a dust of pink coloring his complexion, a weak glare is on you. “Just enjoy it.”

“I could if you actually did something already.”   

You wrap a tight hand around Leon’s needy cock, heavy and thick, and he shouts, the cry turning into a high-pitched whine you would never dream of coming from him and he clamps a hand on his mouth right in the middle of it, hips bucking into you, head thrown back, blown eyes horrified at what he just did. His breaths are loud and shaky, face turning red in seconds, and you watch, utterly captivated. You’ve seen adorable sides of him before when he lets himself be light and his brow isn’t hanging close to his eyes in that grumpy mood, but what you have right here…   

You’re drunk on this side of his, nibbling at his exposed throat. “You’ll take what I give you.”

“God,” he whispers behind his palm, with a subtle tremble when you squeeze once and let go. His hips stutter up before falling back. Leon’s embarrassed. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t retort back, all of the sass packed and left. You can’t believe this is working. That Leon’s obeying you like this. He’s leaked all over your hand. Oh my god. 

And you’ve really barely even done anything to him. 

You can’t help but wonder if this is you doing this to Leon or he’s just into being bossed around in general. 

How further can you push?

“Look, you’ve wet my hand,” you say, bringing your glistening palm up and separating your fingers after circling the gathered precum around, a thin thread forming between the digits. Like a hawk, he watches you lap it all up and you don’t take your eyes off of his, hearing him grip the sheets. “Still gonna act like this isn’t doing anything for you?”

Leon’s voice is gravelly as he rasps, “Kiss me.” It’s something between a request and a demand that if you don’t do it, he will. 

You oblige, pushing down on his chest to get him to lie down again when it’s apparently too slow and soft for him, and he avidly presses forward to make it rougher, intertwining his tongue with yours harsher to the point of your mixed drool sliding down his chin for more. 

He’s yanking and pulling on his clasp on the dreadfully wrinkled covers in self-restraint as he bites and licks and pulls at your lips, butterflies light up the pit of your stomach and thrash against the liquefied rapture that throbs in your pussy and seeps out, the need for attention growing impatient by the minute.  

You go down and focus on kissing his neck, alternating between openmouthed licks and bites, careful not to leave marks, insides doing a summersault at the small noise of disappointment he makes that transitions into husky gasps. Leon still is concerned with suppressing any kind of unbecoming sounds he’s appalled to come out of him, and you’re bothered by that. Pressing your palm on the head of his cock and twisting sure does the trick to vocalize him a bit, restoring your confidence. 

“Ah… Can’t you just directly touch it,” he sighs gruffly. “This isn’t enough—”

“You aren’t asking nicely enough.” 

His head snaps down, brows raised in disbelief, self-consciousness clouding the teased promise of bliss that edges him on, and you stare back at him pointedly — however, on the inside, you’re worried if he’d ever beg at all. 

You twist your palm with added pressure enough to alleviate the pain, but not enough to carry him to the peak he wants to get to, and his shoulders jump up, “Ah!” Biting down on his momentarily trembling lower lip and shaking his head with closed eyes as if he doesn’t want to see you watch him be like this, he mutters, “I’m gonna get you for this…” 

You grip the base of his cock so hard his hands fly up to your wrists and with a shuddering whimper, stop at the last second before he touches you and he drapes his forearms on his reddened face instead, his back rises from the bed involuntarily, Leon’s flat-on squirming and hating it. 

“That’s not nice,” you tease, pressing your legs together in momentary relief and waves of pleasure that slip on your skin like silk, and narrowly stopping the moan. You breathily add, “What do we say?” 

“Please,” so fast and quiet, humiliated. You understand, but don’t let him off.  

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Fuck, please, come on, please.” His hands ball into fists and his arm veins pop out and his right knee curls upwards. “You can’t keep doing this to me—AHH—mhhmh—!”

His sentence gets cut off into incomprehensible babbling once you start pumping your fist up and down his neglected erection, not even needing lotion for it, he’s drenched enough to make the slide beyond slippery. You add your other hand into the mix and begin teasing the tip, and his chest, having developed a thin layer of sweat and gleaming in the sunlight, is heaving, and he can’t swallow the gasps and noises anymore, fingernails digging into his palms. You can only see his puffed, rufescent lips from the way he’s covering his face.  

“Wasn’t what I had in mind, but I’ll take it,” you say, and it’s genuine. This much alone was too much, way beyond what you thought could happen. Leon is always in control, he has it together so brilliantly that this is actually him falling apart, it’s an enthralling, spellbinding natural disaster so beautiful you can’t look away, want to touch yourself to the sight. 

“I’ll show you what I have in mind,” Leon all but snarls, and he has you on your back and pulls you towards him by your legs harshly even before shivers can go down your spine. “Let’s see if you can take that.” 

You pushed him past his limit it seems, and he darkly stares you down, eyebrows scrunched and beads of sweat rolling down his temples. sweat-dampened hair curtains his face from both sides. His hand slips behind both of your knees and scratches at the smooth skin of the crevice, shooting lightning directly into your core, and he hikes them up to hook over his shoulder and hugs one bulging arm around to hold them together, lining himself up with your slit with a trembling hand, dragging the cherry red, furious tip up and down, slipping it in for a bit, catching your insides in a tantalizing drag, and then taking it out next, making your toes curl in the air and drawing squeals out of you. 

Leon would normally send you to the underground and back from how horribly he’d tease you for being this drenched for him, but he’s strained and silent now, snapping his hips against yours and burying himself to the hilt in the spasming cavern of your pussy in one go, with no resistance from how ready for him you were, ripping a fractured cry from you as your vision blacks and stars dance behind your eyes. He groans gutturally, cock pulsing inside, and you feel the sound in your body. You’re overly sensitive from head to toe, and even the sheets sliding against your burning skin makes your clit throb painfully, deliciously. 

He doesn’t start slow or build to something, it’s quick and rough right off the bat as he’s ramming into you with no mercy, and he’s basically catapulting you into glorious completion, but you need more stimulation, more, something more—

He slaps your hand away when you try to reach down to your clit to slip two fingers between your tightly shut legs and falls on his forearms, “No way I’m letting you do that.” Leon arranges your legs to wrap around his waist, grinding against you. 

His attention then shifts to something else and he pulls on the sleeve of your shirt that’s still on, a scheming shine comes to the blue of his eyes that worry you, and then he’s leaning in and forcing it up. It’s hard for you to move your back and slip it off with the way he’s pinning you down, and it dawns on you late after you make the mistake of raising your arms that it’s what he wants after all. After getting your head out, Leon turns it inside out around the entire length of your arms that act as a makeshift restraint and leaves it like that, you’re incapacitated with your hands over your head like this. 

You whine, this is so about not letting him touch you, and he thrusts up sharply to shut you up, sucking blossoming reds into the crook of your neck, hands pulling and pinching at your nipples. It’s building up. It’s building up, but— “You’re going to come like this.”

The frantic slap of skin against skin is echoing in the room and you struggle against the bunched up shirt around your arms. “Can’t—”

“You’re doing it on purpose at this point.” He laces his fingers into your hair on top of your head, thumb on your forehead in little caresses, contrasting how he fucks you shallow and fast, his voice a couple octaves higher than it usually is as he angles your hips upwards to hit deeper, and your moans are a metronome in beat to his ruthless pace. 

“Yeah, that’s right, take it!” Eyes glazed over, mouth agape, the muscles in his thighs jumping, body pulled taut, wrecked and somehow begging, Leon doesn’t leave a single spot unkissed on your face and throat and he’s hurling towards an uncontrolled craze, he’s so close himself. “More? You want more? Too bad, this is it—mmm—for what you just did to me, and you’re gonna take it!” 

You’re clamping down on him and he hisses in your ear as you repeat it like a mantra, Leon is wrenching a merciless orgasm from you and you have no control over it, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, can’tcan’tcan’tcan’t—!”   

Leon’s delectable weight pins you down as you shoot up with the detonation of the pleasure into a thousand pieces, rippling through your body in building waves, your pussy clenching down on him catches him off guard and he unceremoniously spills into you with a choked, staccato shout shuddering, the succulent warmth coating your insides and adding to the ecstasy, and it just keeps coming, his load is too heavy and too much. Your stiffened legs lock the shivering man in place and tremble around his waist as he languidly rides his bliss out, forehead sticky against your clavicle, the sheer strength with which he holds you against him is euphoric rather than suffocating. 

“God, what the fuck was that,” he mumbles at some point, collapsing on top of you and turning you around with him so he won’t crush you, pulling you to his sweaty chest and putting his chin on top of your head. His scent has you in a fuzzy daze. “What did you do to me?”

You don’t respond, consciousness slipping from your fingers and pulling you deep into the sweet comfort of the dark. 

You feel his hand on your cheek, lightly nudging. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Mhm,” you manage to make out. “Wanna sleep…”

“Okay, sweet girl, I got you,” he says, soft and endeared, from far, far away. 

And with that, you’re out like a light. 

When you wake up, you find yourself thoroughly cleaned up, in comfortable, cotton pajamas, with no Leon in sight and a small note left on your nightstand with the keys to your apartment on top of it. 

It reads: Had to go. I’m sorry about not staying until you woke up. Talk to you when I get back.

You plop back on your fluffy pillows and sigh, chest hurting. It was always going to end this way. In hindsight, you’ve seen it coming. 

Your heart doesn’t agree, tears freely falling from your eyes. It’s really over. Leon really left like that. Just as he came into your life. 

You don’t have the right to complain. You’d agreed to it in the first place. 

[jgracie]

(E)STELLAR BABYSITTING!

masterlist | rules

in which you and percy babysit his younger sister estelle (and chaos ensues)

pairings percy jackson x fem!reader, platonic!percy jackson x estelle blofis, platonic!fem!reader x estelle blofis

warnings reader wants kids in this, knife mention (no one gets hurt dw)

an mentioned this in my percy dating hcs so obviously i had to write it

When Percy asked you if you wanted to help him babysit Estelle for the day, you agreed with no hesitation. You saw how hard his parents worked, and living in Camp Half-Blood taught you to never underestimate the difficulty of dealing with little kids. Besides, you love Percy’s family and spending more time with your boyfriend wouldn’t hurt, right? 

If only you knew how wrong you were. 

“Babe, baby, Y/N,” Percy said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest, “you don’t need to read all of that, I’ve got in here!” You took a glance at him and found him tapping on his head.

You smiled, continuing to read as you mumbled, “well, I don't.” The ‘that’ in question was a paper with a bunch of notes Sally had scribbled down for the two of you before she left. They were really simple things, like Estelle’s nap times and favourite foods, but you couldn’t help but go through them thoroughly just in case, since you really didn’t want to mess this up. 

Percy grabbed the paper from your hands and threw it away, grinning at the shocked expression you sported. Soon enough, you let out a chuckle and then he started laughing, which triggered you to laugh even more, resulting in the two of you writhing on the floor in laughing fits, arms wrapped around your stomachs as tears fell from your eyes.

Until you remembered what you were here for. Suddenly stopping, you looked around and realised Estelle was nowhere to be seen, “Percy, she’s gone,” you said, your heart beating faster and faster. Percy quickly got up and began frantically searching for his sister, mumbles of “oh my Gods,” and “mum’s gonna kill me,” tumbling out of his lips. You were in a very similar position, biting your lip and fighting back tears (of anxiousness this time) while looking for Estelle, praying to your Godly parent and any other who happened to be listening that she was safe and you’d find her soon.

“Pretty,” you heard a child’s voice whisper. Immediately, you and Percy ran to the kitchen, and sure enough, Estelle was there. Somehow, she managed to climb up the counter, sit there and play with a knife. You yanked the knife from her hand and breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that she was unscathed. 

Picking her up and setting her down on the floor, Percy said, “I’m gonna hide all the utensils, and then we’re getting out of here. I don’t think the house is safe anymore. Could you get her ready?”

“Sure, but where are we going?” You asked, lifting Estelle and rocking her up and down as she absentmindedly played with the beads on your camp necklace. Percy paused for a second, thinking about where to go before choosing the park nearby. It was walking distance, so you wouldn’t need to take the bus, decreasing your chances of losing Estelle.

While Percy babyproofed the house, you changed Estelle into a cute skirt and matching t-shirt she’d gotten from Poseidon himself. You never would’ve thought the God was a fashion diva, but there’s a first time for everything! 

“Okay Stella, what do you want to do with your hair?” You asked, setting her down on a stool facing the vanity as you started looking for all the various hair tools you could use. Noticing her silence, you stopped and slowly turned, afraid to find her gone again. Luckily, she was where you put her, her eyes wide as she stared at you. 

You were about to repeat your question when she pointed her finger at you, beaming and saying, “pretty.” Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but smile back at her, her words tugging on your heartstrings. You shyly mumbled a “thank you,” your face heating up as you asked your question again. This time, she answered you, deciding on a braid. 

Braiding and humming a tune, you felt content. Sure, the babysitting hadn’t started great, but the park was always a good idea. There, you’d be able to keep a watchful eye on Estelle at all times, since there aren’t any kitchens for her to hide in. You were so wrapped up in your braiding you didn’t notice a certain pair of watchful sea-green eyes locked on you. Percy leaned on the doorframe of the room, not wanting to make a noise as he quite enjoyed staring at your serene facial expression - the type you’d only ever see demigods make in their sleep, and even that was rare considering all the nightmares. 

“Okay, I’m done! You look so gorgeous, Stella!” You exclaimed, really proud of your work. At the sound of your happy voice, she started giggling. 

“I’m starting to think you like my sister more than me. Don’t I look gorgeous too, babe?” Percy asked, finally making his presence known as he took long strides towards you. He pouted, feigning hurtness. 

Giving him a peck on the lips, you said, “you look the most gorgeous, Perce.” Satisfied with your answer, he began peppering kisses all over your face, slowly nearing your lips before you put a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“There’s a kid here,” you said, smiling at Percy’s scowl. And with that, the three of you headed to the park.

Your journey to the park was a quick one with no issues, as each of you walked with one of Estelle’s hands in yours, preventing her from running away. Now that you were there, you freed her from your clutches, allowing her to play while the two of you sat on a bench nearby, making small talk and occasionally cheering her on whenever she glanced at you.

“She’s such a sweet girl,” you told Percy, leaning your head on his shoulder. He hummed, a goofy smile on his face as he thought of the idea of the two of you having a child - one with his hair and your eyes, or maybe his eyes and your hair, it didn’t really matter. You noticed this and raised an eyebrow, asking, “what’re you smiling about?”

Percy blushed, suddenly awfully shy, “would you wanna have one with me?” He asked, making your eyes widen. 

“I mean, obviously not now, but in the future, yeah,” you smiled, already knowing Percy would be the perfect father for your kids. You continued to talk about your future kids, toying with the possibility of them inheriting your demigod powers, and were so wrapped up in your own world you didn’t notice a certain girl you came to the park for was gone.

“Wait, where’s Estelle?” You asked, unable to see her anywhere.

“Oh Gods, not again!”

[shawnxstyles]

personal

DATE: JULY 24, 2023

summary: you and harry are best friends who tell each other everything. or so you thought. when harry finds out you’ve barely done anything sexual, he offers to change that. and then things get a little… personal.

song: Glitch- taylor swift (this song seems fitting)

words: 6.5k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [rubbing, fingering, nipple play, praise kink], mirror sex, cum tasting??, dirty talk), and language.

note: i literally wrote this in a few days i think. this idea is so basic, but who doesn’t love a cliché concept? PART 2

bestfriend!fratrry x inexperienced!reader (because i literally write no one else and fratrry is the love of my life)

—

Harry had a lot of friends. People that he grew up with and some that he met along the way that just stayed. But you were his number one overall, and he told you everything. You told him everything too.

Well, almost everything.

It never really caught his attention that you guys never talked about sex. You guys have been friends for 15 years, since you were five, so you’d think it would have been brought up at least once. But now that Harry thinks about it, he can’t think of one time you’ve talked about the act.

He didn’t think it would be like this. And he didn’t think you’d answer like that.

You and Harry were casually hanging out on a free school day, just like you always do. And then you start talking about this date you went on and how the guy was great. Harry was happy for you, he really was. All he wanted was to see his best friend happier than happy. However, being the best friend he was, he was nagging and joking with you.

“Think he’s the one, eh?” Harry jokes, nudging your shoulder playfully on your couch.

“Oh, stop it. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” You roll your eyes and cross your arms. Yeah, Mike seemed like a decent guy and maybe you could have a relationship for a short time, but he was nowhere near “the one.”

You weren’t too desperate for a relationship, you liked whatever came to you. This cute guy asked you on a date a week ago and you weren’t going to say no. Because what if he was the one? He wasn’t, but what if?

“Imagine it, Doll,” Harry started. He began calling you Doll when you two were just kids. You loved to collect dolls of all sorts, but you never dared to take them out of the box. Harry thought it was silly, but also cool. “picket white fence, beautiful lake house. Kids runnin’ ‘round—”

He saw your face cringe at the word kids. He tilted his head in confusion, arm moving to rest behind you on the couch. He scoots closer to you and waits for you to respond.

“No kids for me,” You awkwardly chuckle. It seemed almost sad the way you sounded.

“What? Thought you wanted to be a mum?”

“Not anymore,” You breathed out with an awkward smile, “need a husband to do that.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout getting a husband. Shouldn’t stop you from wanting ‘em,” Harry smiled sincerely at you and you nodded while looking down.

“Plus, you could always just go out on the street and ask some good-lookin’ lad to be the father of your kids!” You socked Harry hard in the shoulder. He lets out a hearty laugh because he always ruins a sweet moment with a stupid joke. That’s just how you like it though.

“I’m not a prostitute!”

“Never said tha’.”

“Can we just watch some TV? You’re annoying me,” You roll your eyes as you reach for the remote. Harry continues to laugh as you switch the television on.

When you’re indecisive, you toss the remote to Harry and he shuffles through the stations. He lands on a random one, also indecisive. You guys were too similar sometimes.

“Look on your phone for somethin’ and then I’ll find it. I’m done searching.”

“You looked for like two seconds!” You laughed at his laziness. He shrugs with a smile, leaning into the couch. Again, you roll your eyes playfully before doing a bit of research on your phone.

Suddenly, a moan echoes throughout your living room and your whole body stiffens up. Harry notices and tears his eyes away from the screen, which was portraying the sexy noises. You don’t look at him even though you can feel his eyes burning into you.

“Alright?” he asked out of concern, peering at your rigidness. He’s only ever seen you get like that when you were anxious or scared, but nothing happened. Maybe you saw something scary on your phone?

“Uh, yeah,” You squeaked as the TV moaned again. Your face cringes and you force yourself to keep your eyes on your phone.

“Y/N, seriously,” Harry stares between you and the screen when she noisily moans again. The woman was being eaten out by the man and was being overly loud. Her back was arching and her breasts were on display. The movie was inappropriate, 18+ for sure, but it was nothing you hadn’t seen before. Right? You were both 21 years old.

“This… just makes me a tad uncomfortable is all,” You answered honestly, voice quiet as your legs tightened together. Harry’s eyebrows pursed together.

“Uncomfortable? Why?” he couldn’t help the question that slipped out of his mouth. He was too curious to know why a little movie made you stiff yet fidgety.

Unless… you were feeling something different than uncomfortable.

“No,” You shook your head and attempted to push yourself off the couch. Harry didn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and pull you back. He didn’t want you to run away and for you to feel like you couldn’t tell him something.

“Just tell me.”

“No,” You stood your ground, way too embarrassed to say something. Way too embarrassed to admit that you’ve never had sex before. Way too embarrassed to admit you’ve never done anything more than rub your own clit. Once. And it didn’t even feel that good.

Your skin was fiery and… tingly. Harry was much closer to you than he previously was because he pulled you closer to him. Your bare thighs were touching, warm on warm with a sudden spark. You didn’t know you weren’t breathing until you inhaled deeply at Harry’s hooking stare.

“Doll, you tell me everything, but you can’t tell me why a little porn makes you uncomfortable? Because I know it’s tha’.”

“Ugh,” You groaned between clenched teeth. You threw your head back until it hit the top of the couch. Harry’s grip on your wrist never left you. He squeezed it reassuringly, letting you know that he supports you in whatever you’re going to say.

Are you really about to say it?

“Y/N, just—”

“No.”

“I thought we were best friends—”

“Do not pull that card!”

“But—”

“I’ve never had sex before, okay?” You shouted over Harry’s pleading voice and the echoing moans from the television. You’d think by the time you had a whole argument they’d be done having sex, but nope.

Harry was cut off, so his mouth was slacked open. Once he realizes his jaw is on the floor, he blinks a few times to really process what you’ve said. If you had told anyone else, they would have harshly judged you. Harry wasn’t necessarily too different, but he was your best friend, and he was going to try his hardest not too. Harry was just more shocked if anything. He had a handful of different bodies, enough to give him a good amount of experience. So when he finds out you’ve done nothing, he’s beyond surprised to his core.

“But you’ve had so many dates,” Harry looks over at your face, which was looking down at your lap. Your wrist was still trapped in his hand, but you were twiddling your thumbs like you were in trouble. He starts rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb over your knuckle. Your skin was so hot, and Harry’s theory of you being turned on continued in his mind.

Did you even know what that meant? You were naive, right?

“So? That doesn’t mean anything,” Your attitude was shining through. But deep down, you were more embarrassed than anything. This was just your coping mechanism. And of course, Harry knew that.

“Surely you’ve done something else,” Harry suggests. You pin him with a knowing look and a long blink.

“I haven’t,” You answered before even hearing his question. He clearly doesn’t care about your reply because he’s asking you a series of interrogation questions.

“Have you had someone eat you out—” Harry points to the screen, but it was on a commercial break now. You got the point, but Harry clearly didn’t.

“No,” You grumbled.

“What about fingering—”

“No.”

“A toy?”

“Where would I even buy that?”

“Or—”

“No, Harry. Nothing.”

“Not even rubbing?” he asks. You stay quiet, unsure if you want to admit the one-time experiment you did.

Why does it even matter? You tried it and you realized you don’t like it, so you never have to do it again right?

“Not… really,” You hesitated. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion while your skin burned at boiling temperature.

“Humping?”

“No—I tried to…” You couldn’t get the words out. Not ever you’d think. But especially not with Harry so close to you. His body was warm, not as warm as yours, but it was eliciting something inside of you that you couldn’t comprehend. The way he nonchalantly said so many dirty things made you dizzy.

“Tried to what?” Harry was thinking of so many things you could say. He wanted to finish your sentence, just like how he wanted to finish you until you were crying his name and soaking him. But he wanted to hear you say it. He’s never thought of you in such an explicit way, but with the words and tension floating in the air it was hard not to.

“…do it myself.”

“And how did that work out, Doll?”

“Um,” You didn’t expect him to ask. Your neck and cheeks light up in small flames. Where did this come from? “I…”

“What? I thought you could tell me anything?” When your eyes flickered up to his, they were a dark, swirling green you’ve never seen on his face before. Your heart skipped a dangerous beat, frightened with anticipation.

“I know, I can. But this… it’s different.”

“How so?”

“It’s personal—”

“Best friends are personal.”

“But not like this. Best friends don’t do this,” You tried to get up again, nearly ripping yourself away from his grip. But you were in too deep now. Harry wasn’t going to let this one slide. His mind was thinking about one thing and one thing only.

You.

He yanks you back and twirls you around, releasing your wrist in the process. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you down to his lap. You couldn’t contain the slight gasp you let out at the feeling of his strong legs beneath you. Your legs were on either side of him, tempting to squeeze shut. Every movement you made Harry would feel in this position.

“Best friends can say anything. They can do anything too,” Harry’s hands caress your thighs. They’re comforting and inviting, but are also sending a field of goosebumps along your skin warning you to flee. It’s hard to focus on anything but his touch and the vibration of his words through the air. “Now, tell me, did you rub yourself?”

“Yes,” You stutter, trying to stop your hips from squirming on his lap. He notices and grips one side of your body to steady you. It only makes you want to shift more. His touch was almost overwhelming, but you wanted more of it.

Was it wrong to want more of your best friend’s touch?

“Did it feel good?”

“No,” A part inside of you was a bit disappointed that it felt so bland. You thought masturbation was this great thing, and that’s why people did it so frequently. You heard it was also a stress-reliever, but for you, it was just a stress-inducer. Harry could tell by your tone that you weren’t lying.

“Well, you probably weren’t doing it right,” Harry replies and you look up at him with a slightly startled expression and a scoff. You didn’t expect his response to be so straightforward, like he was a doctor diagnosing you with some disease.

“How could I do it wrong? Don’t I just rub…?”

“Baby, it’s much more than that,” Harry said sincerely. He’s never called you baby before, but the nickname had your heart jumping. “Were you even wet?”

“What? I—probably? I don’t remember…”

“You would remember.”

“The experience wasn’t very memorable,” You grumble with an eye roll.

“Do you want me to show you?”

His question had your head spiraling. He wanted to what? There is no way. There is no way those words just left Harry, your best friend’s, mouth.

“W-what? That’s way too personal!” Your eyes were wide and your skin was burning. You were nearly dizzy with this whole conversation and your stomach was tight. You thought you might need to lie down for a while.

Maybe you were sick. Yeah, that’s it.

“Best friends are personal, Doll. Just let me show you, yeah? And then we never have to talk about it again. If y’don’t want. Please,” Harry’s charm was convincing you. Everything about him was luring you in, completely different than ever before. The way his eyes was dark and his touch was warm made you feel wanted and needed, which was contrary to your past dates. They didn’t look at you this way, nearly beg for you this way. They didn’t show you anything. They wanted you because they wanted to get their dick wet, but they hated the idea of a virgin.

And Harry’s familiar. He’s safe. You don’t have to be afraid when you’re with him. But then why are you so nervous?

Harry was willing to teach you how to do the one thing you’ve been curious about your whole life, and you’re going to pass up the opportunity, why? Because he’s your best friend?

Isn’t that supposed to make it better?

“Okay, fine,” You inhaled as your hands gripped onto his T-shirt on his shoulders. You had convinced yourself to let the words slip out. “Show me.”

You were agreeing almost as if this wasn’t a big deal for you. But to Harry, it was. He would take your firsts, and something about that filled him with pride. A smirk slowly rides up on his lips, “Now?”

A blush cascades through your body. Of course he didn’t mean right now!

“I-I thought you meant—”

“Shh, relax, Doll. I was just makin’ sure,” he smirks again, pulling you closer to him. He loved watching you get all squirmy and flustered more than he thought. You could feel his body heat more than ever now, and you’re surprised you lasted this long on his lap without dying. “I’m going to give you a few options, okay?”

With anxiousness, you nodded and swallowed.

“When we do this, you have to talk. So use your words, Y/N,” You knew he was being serious when he said your name, so you replied with yes and then he was giving you your options.

“So, I can lay you down right here on the couch and show you how to rub your little clit,” his explicit words were making your privates ache, but it wasn’t painful. It kind of felt… good? You felt a foreign liquid dampen your underwear, and you can only assume that’s the wetness Harry was talking about. “Or, you can do it yourself on m’thigh with my help. Which one sounds like something y’want to do?”

“The first one,” You answered, painfully desperate to squeeze your legs together to stop this ache. “But how will I see what you’re doing?”

Harry thought for a moment. You made a good point. How were you supposed to learn simply from feeling? Harry knew you were a bit of a visual learner, so he wanted to make sure you saw how to pleasure yourself correctly. And he knew the perfect way to do that.

“I actually have a third option. But s’not really a choice anymore,” Harry doesn’t say anything after, he just lifts himself and you off the couch without warning. You wrap your arms and legs around his body like a koala, making sure you don’t fall. His warmth encompasses you back and you wish you could just stay there forever.

Familiar. Safe.

When your head peers up from his shoulder, you’re in his bathroom. Your eyebrows pinch together, curious as to what his third choice was.

He sets you down on the floor until your feet are planted. You unwrap your arms from him, still confused.

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” Harry’s eyes were still dark, and you wondered if they would ever go back to the strong, emerald green they used to be.

“Yes, of course,” You didn’t hesitate to answer. There was no one that you trusted more than Harry that wasn’t in your bloodline.

“Okay,” Harry breathes, “Strip f’me. Keep your bra and underwear on.”

You nearly questioned him in shock. But then you remembered what the whole goal of this was. He was going to show you how and you were going to listen, right? So you did.

Carefully, you stripped yourself of your clothes. He’s seen you in bathing suits before, and some were revealing, so this can’t be as bad, right? Harry didn’t peel his eyes away although you wanted him to. He hasn’t seen you naked since you two were little kids, and even though you weren’t naked, it felt like you were with his burning gaze. Obviously, there were some changes too. Like height, hair, breasts, ass… the whole thing. Harry doesn’t say anything until you’re in your undergarments.

A swimsuit is definitely different.

“Good. Now, c’mere,” Harry sits down on the floor, a few feet away from his full-body mirror. His body was up against the bathtub wall to keep himself steady. You slowly lowered yourself to the floor, wondering what was going on through his head.

He pulls you between his legs until you’re pressed against his body. His warmth radiated through you far better with less clothes on and your body ached some more. Your legs closed to squeeze it away.

“Nuh uh,” he declines. Harry grips your thighs with his ringed fingers and yanks them apart. You gasp at the extreme vulnerability and the coolness that waves over your privates. He throws your legs over his and bends them slightly, making you unable to move at all. “Keep them open, yeah?”

You nodded, but that’s not what he told you to do.

“Words.”

“Yes. Keep them open.”

“Good girl. You’re learning,” Harry smiled and looked towards the mirror. His eyes instantly zoomed in on the growing wet patch on the front of your cotton panties, and he couldn’t help but smirk. He saw and felt your body squirming similarly like how you were on his lap. He’s had a rock-hard cock since this conversation started, so he’s not surprised if you can feel his hard-on poking your back through his shorts.

His hands rested on your knees as you watched him in the mirror. The entirety of it all was extremely erotic, like something that would be on TV.

“If you like something, tell me. If you hate something, tell me. It’s important that you do so, okay? It helps both of us learn.”

“Okay,” You were nearly shaking with anticipation. You were so nervous, but why? It’s just Harry. It’s just Harry. “I kind of like when you say I’m doing a good job. Makes me feel… nice.”

“Yeah?” Harry tried to conceal the smirk that threatened to rise on his lips. Of course his best friend, who happened to be the most innocent person in the world, had a praise kink. It just made too much sense. “Like when I call you a good girl?”

You sighed and nodded, but Harry didn’t say anything this time. He just kept going.

One of his hands rested on your knee, tracing delicate circles. He stayed in the same spot, for god knows how long, and you wondered when he would do something. He seemed to be in a trance. He was hyper-focusing on every centimeter with those circles, and although you were getting impatient, you felt cared for.

One of his hands snakes to your chest and rubs your nipple through your bra. Just when you were about to protest, his fingers moved a tad lower. The roughness of his pads tickled your skin just right and caused your thighs to squirm. It was entertaining for Harry to watch you get all squirrely from such a simple touch.

He’s going to have fun with you.

“It… tickles,” You observe as your eyes look down at his fingers, very gradually moving closer to that ache in between your legs. You felt like a kid exploring a new world for the first time; naive and curious.

“What does?”

“Your fingers,” You stare at him in the mirror almost as if he’s stupid. What else would tickle?

“Does this tickle?” Harry’s knuckle brushes the inside of your thighs, lower than he’s been. You inhale at the subtle sensitivity.

“Not much,” You answer, and his knuckle continues to sway leisurely. Your breath picks up, rising faster at his hand’s proximity.

“What about this?” His index finger traces the hem of your panties with purpose. You gasp when he gets deep in between your legs, outlining your cunt with ease. Your legs attempt to shut with a shake, shying away from the vulnerability, but it’s impossible with his strong legs prying you open.

“A-a little.”

“And this?”

As if his touch could be anymore teasing, he finally dances along your clothed cunt, tracing your lips with curiosity of how you’d react. A mix of a sigh and a moan wavers out of you unintentionally, hips pushing closer towards his finger. Your mind blanks, light and fuzzy. Your face immediately falls to gaze at his movements, attracted to the air-headed feeling.

“Eyes on the mirror,” Harry demands while delicately caressing you. It was ironic, really. His voice was so rough and stoic while his touch was ever so gentle. With a few blinks, you're focusing in on the mirror, obeying his command. “How does this feel? Does it tickle?”

“Good, and yes,” You swallow your moan as his finger keeps petting you lightly. You were almost getting used to it, but you wanted more. “Is this what I was supposed to do?”

“Sort of. This is called foreplay. Heard of tha’?”

“I think so?” You were breathless.

“S’basically where I get you all wet and ready f’me. You like that?”

“L-love and hate relationship right now,” You pant as his finger rises away from your weeping, covered hole and travels up to your clit. You choke out a gasp as he strokes it nonchalantly.

“Oh,” Your hand drops to his thigh, gripping it strongly as your body begins to tingle. You strain your neck to keep your eyes on the mirror ahead of you, trying to watch how he does it.

His familiar smirk never fades from his face, cheeks a tad rosy from the heat waving between you two. His wrist is probably sore from the tedious, repeated movements he does. His thick fingers delicately circle your covered clit, applying generous pressure until you’re panting.

“More. I think I need more,” You suggest when his pace stays a consistent speed. You needed to feel his fingers on your bare skin. If he was going to touch you, you wanted him to just do it already.

“Y’think?” Harry’s tone was taunting yet serious. He wanted you to be firm with what you wanted. He didn’t want you to second-guess your own pleasure. If you needed more, you needed to tell him that. The best way for that to happen was for him to train you. “Beg for it.”

As your head becomes floaty with the stimulation, you don’t even hesitate to throw out pleads.

“Please, Harry. I-I need it, need more,” Your head slowly falls back onto his shoulder before his touch is gone. “Wha—”

Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to see you. All of you. He needed to see what he did to you, and if you were really as desperate as you seemed. As shocking as this all may be to you, it was just as shocking to Harry. He couldn’t believe he was this turned on from his best friend’s inexperience. He’s always liked when a girl knew what she was doing and knew how to reciprocate. But something about Harry teaching you and showing you the ropes just fills him with a kind of power and pride that he can’t get from anywhere else. And he’s feasting off of it.

“M’gonna take these off, alright?”

“Everything? O-okay,” He unclipped your bra as you slowly slid down your panties. The tile beneath you was colder than before, but Harry’s warm body behind you kept you comforted.

“Have you heard of the traffic light system?” he asks, hands resting gently on your bare shoulders. He gets straight into the safety part first. It also distracts him from ogling your naked figure against him. He could feel his cock twitch in his briefs at your fluttering pussy and peaked nipples.

“I assume you don’t mean the ones used for driving?” You both chuckle and break some of the swollen tension in the room. It was a nice little reminder that it’s just Harry.

“No, Doll. The one for safety and consent,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, no, I’ve never heard of it.”

“If you say red, I’ll stop instantly and ask what made y’red. Communication is key. If y’say yellow, I’ll slow down and ask you again. And then we can either continue or stop, whatever y’want. But if your color is green, I’ll keep going. Understand, love?”

There was a lot of information, but you were able to keep up. It was actually similar to the traffic light system, which makes the name very fitting. You reply with a firm yes to note that you understand.

All while he was talking and explaining everything, you were getting used to looking at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t always confident in your body, but staring at it in between Harry’s made you feel safe and sexy somehow.

Before your mind can wander too far, Harry’s hands are falling down until they’re at your nipples. His rough fingers lightly pinch the already-hard buds until you’re pushing up into his touch. The warmth and the nakedness made you overly flushed all over. He gropes your breasts with care, slyly sliding another hand down lower.

Throughout this entire process, you’ve been soaking; in your underwear, in your shorts, and now on his bathroom tile. Your lower body has been throbbing in desire to be aided, and Harry seems to know just what you need.

His fingers hover right above your mound that’s screaming for him to go lower. Your heart rams against your chest in anticipation of his bare hands on your bare body, on your most sacred and vulnerable parts. No one has ever touched you beside yourself. A small part inside of you was glad that the first person was Harry because you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

Right?

“Stop thinking s’much,” he says, rubbing a warm palm over your belly. His face moves your head, so his lips can kiss your temple reassuringly. You slightly arch your back, so maybe he could see how desperate you are. Your legs were still spread by his, so you know he can see your wetness. If you can see it, so can he. “Just let me show you how it’s done.”

“Okay, Mr. Cocky,” You roll your eyes as he shifts your hair behind your ear, “What if I don’t even like it?”

“The name is very fitting. But that’s for a different day,” he says with a cocky smirk on his face. Now that sounds like something Harry would say. But your entire face gets warm and your head gets a little fuzzy when you actually imagine it. “and you will. Trust me.”

You take a deep breath. You weren’t sure how far you guys were going to go, but you’ve never felt more ready and more safe. With the system Harry told you about and all his reassurance, it was clear that even if he was teaching you, you were the one that had all the control.

“Now watch me.”

With those words his hand turns into just one finger and resumes on your clit. You gasp into the air as your body jolts. The roughness of his thumb paints your arousal over and over on your skin.

“This little thing is important. Don’t neglect it.”

His rhythm is slow and tedious as he circles the nub. You see and feel him dip down to collect some more of your wetness as he continues stroking you.

“How’s this? Color?” he gruffs in your ear while staring at you darkly in the mirror. You could barely understand him because you were panting embarrassingly and trying your hardest to focus on the reflecting glass in front of you.

“Good! Wait—green,” You corrected yourself as a moan elicited from you, his touch feeling even better each second.

“Good girl.”

“Fuck,” You feel yourself clench around nothing but your own wetness at his words. You both watch as the liquid quenches out of your dripping hole, making Harry groan from behind you.

“Do y’think you can handle one finger? Hm?” his voice rolls perfectly into your ear as he twists your peaked nipple. You couldn’t control your moans at the pleasure. His voice sounded just as good as the feeling of his hands.

“Yes, yes. Harry, please,” You nearly cried from how bad you needed it. You didn’t even know you needed it this bad. You thought you were going to hate this feeling, but you’re far from it.

“So submissive, so responsive,” Harry’s middle finger pushes against your hole, teasing the opening. You hold your breath as he makes you wait. “Breathe, Doll. Relax.”

Your eyes close for a moment. You breathe deep and feel your limbs lose their sudden tenseness. Before you can open them again, Harry’s finger is slotting inside of you easily. A gasp falls from your mouth as your hand grips on his meaty thigh for support.

“O-oh.” The feeling was insane. Intense. Nearly overwhelming. You clenched around his digit, consuming and caging it like it would fade away.

You’re so tight around him, he swears his finger might fall off. Harry’s cock is pulsing and pleading behind your back, but you don’t seem to notice. He’s making sure he doesn’t rut into you, but it’s so difficult when you’re all spread out and submissive for him.

He’s never thought of you like this, but fuck, now he can’t think of you any other way.

“Color, Doll?” Harry grumbles in your ear, voice low and breathy as it fans over your skin warmly.

“Green. What’s more than green? B-blue? Just–don’t stop–God,” Your squeaky voice rambled as his finger pumped in and out slowly. You can hear his smile behind your screwed eyes. The pad of his thumb rubbed delicate circles over your throbbing clit to escalate the pleasure.

Your chest was beating fast when your legs started to shake. Your hips bucked closer to his hands, needing more as you chase the glorious feeling.

“Look at you, takin’ me so well,” Harry praises, subtly curling his finger as your back arches. You know that one finger isn’t a lot, barely anything, but you were melting at the praise that Harry gave you. His constant encouragement is what made you putty in his hands. Literally.

“Harry,” You moaned into the heated air, causing Harry to groan desperately behind you. And you’re not too stupid to deflect that Harry might be turned on from the scene unfolding. If you knew more, if you knew better, you would have offered to help him after. But you were inexperienced, and you assumed he wouldn’t want someone to give him head who could possibly bite his dick off.

“Are you close, baby? Hm? Gonna come for the first time on my hand?”

“Y-yes! Please,” You begged as you climbed your high, wondering what the top would feel like if the chase was this blissful.

Your head falls restlessly on his shoulder while his right hand keeps focusing on your cunt. It was covered in your arousal as his pace picked up. The stimulation was almost too much, your body wanted to push away. But your mind was pleading to feel a release you know your body needed.

“Is it gonna h-hurt?” You groaned as your cunt clenched around him again, stomach tensing. A strong rush you assumed could only be an orgasm was approaching you all too fast.

“No, Doll. It’s gonna feel real good,” He twisted your nipple again, pushing you over the edge. You felt his thumb and index pinch your clit, causing you to scream his name against his chest. “Look in the mirror. Watch yourself fall apart f’me. Watch and make sure this time is memorable.”

You always thought Harry had a way with words. You never thought that about dirty talking though. His hands were as skillful as can be, and maybe one day you’ll be able to make yourself feel as good as he made you feel. But his words are something that you’ll never be able to treat yourself with. You don’t think you’ll ever meet another person whose voice is as fitting as Harry’s.

With his demanding tone, you came right over the edge. An overwhelming ripple of pleasure ceased through your body, shaking your legs to the max. Soundless moans and clawing nails were all you were capable of as you came on his large hand. Although you were straining, you never took your eyes off of the mirror. He told you to look at yourself as you came, but you were only staring at the glaring green eyes reflecting back at you. He rubbed all of your orgasm until you were trembling from overstimulation.

Just when you thought he was done, he raised his ringed hand to his mouth and tasted you. You thought that was something that they only did porn or movies. You swallowed intensely as his hum vibrated through you.

“Do you always… taste it?”

“If I think it’ll taste good,” he smirked as you scooted forward to grab your shirt. As you throw it over your head, you just had to ask.

“Did mine taste any good?” You slightly cringed as you asked the question. Does cum usually taste good? What does it even taste like?

His smirk widens, a hint of evilness rising, “do you want to find out?”

Your skin flushes even against the chilling tile. Your heart skips a beat at trying yourself. You hadn’t ever thought of it before. But you’ve come (literally) this far tonight, so why not just take it a little further?

“O-okay,” You slowly lift up your shirt, revealing your fucked-out cunt to him again. “So I just…?”

“May I?” he suggests.

“Yes.”

Two of Harry’s fingers swipe over your cunt, which was still covered in a mix of your arousal and cum. You jolted from the stimulation, tensing quickly before his touch was gone.

“Open,” and without thinking, you do. Your mouth falls open as his fingers lay flat on your tongue. Salty and creamy, it spreads over your tastebuds. You hummed around his fingers just like he did because it tasted good. Yeah, it was a bit odd, but once you got past that, you realized how erotic and sexy it was. “How’s it taste?”

After a bit of suckling on his digits, he puts them out way too soon for your liking. “Good, actually.” You creak from your dry throat.

“I think so too. Let’s clean you up real quick.”

Still sitting on the floor, a warm, wet towel soothes your sensitiveness as he wipes away all of your liquids. A smile broke out on his face when he finished before his hand landed on top of your head. He shook your hair like crazy until it was already wilder than it was. The action was childlike and friendly, almost as if everything between you guys never happened and you were back to square one. It was better that way, though. Right? To just go back to how everything used to be?

Harry grabs the small hand towel and exits his bathroom. You assume he went to discard it and add it to his laundry, but you just sat there in oblivion. You already missed his touch, longing for something you should’ve never even had in the first place. He was the one that offered himself to teach you, but now you’ve been taught, so where do you guys go now? Are you really supposed to just go back to the way it was?

He saw you in ways that no one else has before. You always thought that you would be intimate and have your groups of firsts with someone that you were dating, someone that you loved. Because of this, you realized that Harry was the safe option. Doing this with Harry changed your views on everything, and your body, heart, and mind couldn’t keep up with the rapid reversal.

You knew that Harry had a few notches in his belt. But were they all from relationships or just one-night stands? You didn’t know because you two rarely ever discussed the topic. Was it easy for Harry to go from girl to girl? Or did he get attached like you?

If there was one thing you always feared from sex and sexual doings, it was the intense attachment. You had heard about the infamous addiction intimacy laces within your veins that makes you crave a person. Now that you’ve been with Harry, that won’t happen to you, right?

You’ve known Harry forever, yet you’ve never craved him. He’s your best friend, and you’ve never seen him as more than that. If it was anyone else, you’d probably lose all control because you have no significant relationship with them. It would be easy to latch onto anybody because it would be easy to lose them too. Harry, on the other hand, was not easy to lose.

The last thing you want is to convince yourself of anything. You don’t want to “crave” Harry just because you saw something about an article online about “sexual chemicals fusing.” You couldn’t. No, it was too risky.

You’ve known Harry forever, so you couldn’t lose him forever too.

“I think I found a good movie to watch!” Harry’s voice echoes from his living room and all the way into the bathroom where you haven’t moved a muscle. Your overthinking was louder than it’s ever been. With a shaky breath, you rise from the tiles and stare at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. The same mirror you watched Harry finger fuck you with.

“Be out there in a second!” You shout back as your heart beats rapidly from his heartwarming voice laughing loudly at something. You clutched your chest, wondering why the fuck you were feeling the organ lurch for him in a way that wasn’t meant for him.

You knew that it was way too fucking personal.

—

thanks for reading angels 😙 part 2

taglist: @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @raajali3

[meowlod]

You‘re a mermaid, and there‘s a person you always love visiting. Focalors, the one who controls the water around you.

She always came to the empty beach, only to see you, a pretty mermaid the archon has taken interest in. You always come out of the water waving at her, and it truly makes her heart melt. She could turn you into human any time, just not now.

Everyday, it‘s like this. She waits and waits for you always at the same time, waiting until she sees your head popping out of the water.

“Pretty girl, come here.“

You smile sweetly, and god, she loves your pretty smiles. You swim towards her, slowly crawling onto the sand before falling gently into her arms. She gently rocks your back up and down, resting her head against your shoulder.

”I missed you..did you too?“

You couldn‘t speak much human language as you only live in the water, but you can say a couple of words, and understand some of them.

“M…mhm.“

She chuckles softly and gives your forehead a small kiss, then both of your cheeks. It‘s like the both of you are partners in love.

“My dear, will you take care of someone for me if I suddenly disappear one day?“

Huh..? You didn‘t quite understand a couple of her words but you nod nonetheless. Focalors reaches out to her bag next to her and takes out a blue flower crown that fits perfectly on top of your head.

“There, it belongs to you now. Hah, you look gorgeous, my mermaid.“

After some while, she stands up and gives you a small wave before walking away, and you swim back into the water, ready to meet her again tomorrow.

But, she hasn‘t been coming back for a while now. Why? You kept looking up at the time she was supposed to come, but she‘s not there. A day later, another day later…no visit.

Months later, you kept looking up to the water if she‘s there. Nobody. You go back down the water and swim back to your underwater house, putting down the blue flower crown you always had on, on a table.

But something happened. A person visited the beach, and your head pops up to see a woman with the same blue heterochromia eyes as Focalors, the same hair but short, and has a blue top hat with blue-black colored clothing. She looks like Focalors, you thought.

The blue womans eyes slightly widen, and she comes closer, to look at you, a little surprised to see a mermaid in the waters of Fontaine.

“Hm?“

As the woman crouches down to look at you, you suddenly jump on top of her and hug her tightly with a big smile. The sudden movement made her gasp.

“..Fo…calors..!“

The blue woman smiles nervously and pats your back, keeping you in her arms, but she is feeling a little uncomfortable.

“…Huh? My name is not…i‘m— i‘m Furina.“

You ignore her words and kept hugging her, and Furina sighs softly, keeping you in her arms, but she feels a little confused and shocked to see a mermaid suddenly hugging her out of nowhere.

So, everyday you‘ve been meeting this woman you thought was Focalors, and Furina seems to have taken a liking on you. She visits you too, bringing desserts to eat together, sitting together to watch the sun and much more.

One day, she came back and sat down on the beach, waiting for you, waiting until she saw your head popping out of the water. Furina gasped excitedly and beckoned you to come closer, and you did.

“Ah, come here, come…I want to show you something!“

As you came closer, she took you in her arms and put a flower crown on top of your head that fits perfectly. It looks like the flower crown you got before, and it makes you smile. Furina chuckles and cups your cheeks before leaning in, leaning in to give you a kiss.

And so she did. She kissed you slowly, and gently. You kissed her back in a sloppy way and it made her chuckle to see that you don‘t know how to kiss, so she pulled away, only to lean back in and kiss you again, helping you a little with the kissing.

Now, Furina pulled back and stared at you with a gentle smile, gently gripping your waist.

“Will you be mine, pretty little mermaid?“

You tilt your head in slight confusion, and she does too. Do you not understand human language? She thought to herself. She tries again to see if you understand.

”Be…um..my girl— girlfriend, pretty mermaid?“

You slightly seem to understand her words more now, and you nod excitedly, letting yourself fall into her arms.

The next day later, Furina came back with a weird blue potion in her hand and handed it to you, staring at you with a waiting look. You take the potion in your hand and drink it slowly, and her eyes widen in excitement to see it working.

Your tail is slowly forming into two human legs, and you‘re now slowly able to walk. Furina gently picks you up, but her eyes widen once again in slight embarrassment to see you naked.

”N—nhhah? Ah— sorry for lo— wait— take my jacket.“

She hands you her jacket and wraps it around your shoulders, but after doing that, you fell down on the ground because you don‘t know how to walk, and she sighs in embarrassment.

Furina gently pulls you up once again and picks you up, starting to carry you bride style away from the beach, with the flower crown still on your head.

After a lot of walking in Fontaine, she finally appears at her apartment and carries you in, walking into her bedroom and slowly putting you on the bed. She opens her closet to take out a pajama set that you can put on, and it‘s also matching with hers.

So after Furina helped you put the clothes on, she puts her own ones on as well and lays down next to you, putting the blanket around the both of you.

”Comfortable?“

”…mm!“

She smiled and took you into her arms, mumbling ”i’ll help you with human language soon, so that you can understand my words of affection.“ before falling asleep. You soon feel asleep too, right in her arms, where you belong.

[zriasstuff]

First impressions- Lorenzo Berkshire x reader

Lorenzo Berkshire behaves like the perfect gentleman towards you, but what’s underneath that perfect facade? First impressions don’t last forever…

go to pt.2—> Second chances?

“Look, this one’s sooo pretty!”, your friend Jenny on your right hand side squealed excitedly.

“Oh my god, I have to get this dress”, Anya, your other friend, gushed while already holding five different ones in her hands.

You were also roaming through the countless racks, searching for a new and mature looking dress. In Hogsmeade, a new boutique had just opened and soon enough all the girls stormed inside to get the most beautiful pieces.

Inside the boutique everything was laced with delicacy, elegance and maturity. Three things you wanted more than anything to be a part of yourself. It was about time that you changed your appearance and became a young woman. After all, you were in your fifth year at Hogwarts already.

Not being able to decide between all the gorgeous clothing pieces you picked up, you took all ten of them to try on. Ten was definitely too many though, so some would have to be eliminated. The trying on process sadly didn’t do much for you, you still loved every single piece. Eventually, you come out of the fitting room, upset due to your inability to decide.

“Just buy all of them then”, Anya encourages you, “if you don’t they’ll be sold out and you will never get to try them on again”

That was easy for her to say. She was born into generational wealth and could buy all the clothes, or anything at all, that she fancied. On the other hand, you couldn’t just take home whatever you pleased. Still, you felt lucky that you had the money to buy one or two, so you eyed each piece you grabbed carefully.

“Ugh, they all would look so beautiful on me”, you groan, not wanting to give up even one of them.

When you turn around again to get your friends’ advice, they are nowhere to be seen.

Scanning the area for them, you unexpectedly make eye contact with someone who seemed to have been eying you. You stop looking for your friends, and take a moment to glance into this mysterious persons piercing blue eyes, perhaps for a little too long. He, whoever he was, appears to have taken an interest and started inching towards you.

Suddenly, after not having been able to place him, you recognize who he was. He was one of the guys who always hung around Draco Malfoy, who was a year above you. Even though you were in the same house, you have barely even made contact.

“You’re right”, he approaches you, looking you up and down.

“About what?”, you ask, finding it strange why one would approach you in this way. And as a guy, why would he be in this particular boutique. Was he perhaps shopping for his girlfriend or sister, you wonder.

“They would all indeed look very beautiful on you”, he compliments you charmingly, towering over you, a warm smile on his face as he said that. Sounds like he overheard your little dilemma. Surprised that he was so straight forward, you feel your cheeks heating up a little. While you’re smiling nervously, you manage to mumble out a thank you.

“It would be such a shame, if you had to leave them here”, this guy, whose name didn't even come to your mind, continued the sudden conversation. This guy surely had something planned, with the way he was leading it.

“Yeah, sometimes I wish I could just go shopping limitlessly”, you truthfully admit.

“So what’s your name, darling?”

“Y/n”, you answer while a thousand thoughts circled your mind. Such as how you managed to have caught the attention of this gorgeous, older guy— he surely must’ve approached you because he found you pretty right? And he just called you “darling” in such a heartwarming tone.

You didn’t like where your mind was wandering. All those thoughts, simply because a guy paid you the slightest amount of attention.

How long has it been since a guy had shown the slightest interest in you again? As if the exact time mattered, it had been too long anyway. You start doubting that you were maybe reading too much into his behavior—that your feelings were the ones of a silly little girl who just received some candy. So he called you darling, that doesn’t have to mean anything.

“Pretty”, he notes, “I’m Lorenzo by the way, but you can call me Enzo”.

Alright, you rethink, surely you weren’t reading too much into it. He just complimented you again, the second time within five minutes.

“May I?”, he gently asks, disrupting your small talk. Before you could even respond, he takes the clothes out of your hands. You weren’t sure what to make of this, so you threw him a questioning look. “Let me”, he says, afterwards smoothly grabbing your hand. “Let me what?”, you try to understand his behavior as you’re being led by him.

“Let me spoil you with what you deserve”, he responds so genuinely, but also as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You couldn’t even believe it. He had to be an angel fallen from heaven, with the way he was treating you.

This Enzo, whom you just properly met, was willing to spoil you like a literal princess. This is what teenage romance that your favorite authors write about must feel like.

“Are you kidding?”, you ask in utter disbelief. Not that you were complaining, but it simply felt too unreal, that someone would do this for you without even knowing you.

At the counter, you finally catch your friends, who have become victims of a giggle attack. They kept pointing their fingers at Enzo, maybe demanding some sort of explanation, but you yourself didn’t even know what to make of this.

All you knew was that within the next five minutes, he had paid for all ten pieces you picked out and was carrying the bags for you, like a true gentleman.

“I don’t even know how to thank you for this”, you tell him at the exit of the store, hoping he wouldn’t regret what he just did. What if he demanded you to reimburse him? No, he wouldn’t do that right?

“You wearing one of those would be enough of a thank you.” You can’t help but blush at his words, not believing your luck, that you met a guy this sweet. He was truly everything a girl could ask for.

Generous, handsome, tall, and caring—the whole package.

You saw your friends waving you over to them, so you excuse yourself. As he hands you the bags, his hand lingers on yours for a moment, before you let go and go over to your friends.

On your way you hear Enzo’s voice, causing you to turn around briefly.

“Meet me after dinner tonight, yeah?”

“Of course”, you happily obliged. You couldn’t wait to tell your friends about this perfect guy, and they couldn’t wait to hear the story either.

…

During dinner you kept turning your head to the right, hoping to catch a few glimpses of Enzo, who was sitting only a few seats away from you. You became rather disappointed when he didn’t notice you. Instead, he was laughing with all his friends.

“Y/n, what do you think?”, you hear all of a sudden, pulling you out of your admiration for Enzo. Totally in and out of your head, you try to remember what your friend asked you about. You also wondered whether Enzo had told all his friends about you yet, hopefully in a positive manner.

“Are you so in love with this guy you met four hours ago, that you can’t even focus on your real friends anymore”, she jokes, totally calling you out in your lovestruck behavior. The way you were infatuated with him, one could believe that he snuck you a love potion. But no, he was the first guy that you had ever felt this enchanted by.

In the last remaining minutes of dinner, you were mentally counting down the minutes. Only a little longer, you told yourself, then you could meet with him. Talk with him. Get to know him further. And eventually you would both lean in for a kiss and then…

“Dinner is finished, please go back to your respective common rooms”, Dumbledore's voice echoes through the dining hall, interrupting your daydream. As you’re getting up slowly, you tell your friends to go ahead. When everyone walked out, you saw Enzo separating from his friends to make his way to you. You could barely wait, having anticipated talking with him throughout the entire dinner.

“Hey”, he says, coming up to you.

You say nothing, replying with a simple smile. Deep down you were kind of scared of sounding overly excited, which could possibly scare him off.

“How’s it going?”

“Pretty good, how about you?”, you play your feelings down. You were better than “pretty good”, you were floating on cloud nine. If paradise existed, you were pretty sure that you were there already.

“I see you’re wearing a new dress, you look stunning”, Enzo says while looking you up and down, yet again. Your heart skipped a beat, overjoyed that he took notice. He really did pay attention to you.

“I’m glad.” Little did you know, and he did too, that you only wore this for him to see. It made you happy to know that your efforts weren’t in vain.

“Listen, how about we meet in my dorm?”, he suggested, “have us a little quiet place.” You instantly agreed, but told him that you would come by a little later because you wanted to refresh yourself in your own dorm first.

After all, you wanted everything to be perfect for your first date— wait, you stop your train of thought. Was it even a proper date? You weren’t sure, you’ve never been on one. Either way, you hurriedly skipped off to your dorm, informing all your girlfriends on your meeting.

Being the supportive girlfriends they were, they help you and give you pointers on your hair and makeup.

“I cannot believe that you’re going to be Enzo’s girlfriend”

“I’m so jealous, I wish an older guy would ask me out too”, they rave over your incredible luck.

“Well, I don’t even know if I’m really going to be his girlfriend”, you confess. He did seem interested, but after all you two were on completely different levels. What gave you comfort was that he seemed to be one of the nicer guys.

After one more glance in the mirror, you take off and ask everyone to wish you luck. You tried to be as quick as possible, not wanting to miss out on moments that you could’ve spent with Enzo.

Carefully, you sneak over to the boys’s dorms and you realize that you didn’t know which one Enzo slept in. So, you wander door to door, abruptly stopping when you recognize Enzo’s voice. His dorm door was open by a slit, so you lean in a little to listen. You knew it was sneaky, but you just couldn’t fight off your curiosity…

At first you couldn’t make out their indistinct words, but suddenly Enzo got a little louder. He sounded completely different from when you talked with him earlier.

“Fuck no!”, he scoffed loudly. You didn’t know what he rejected so angrily, but it only piqued your curiosity. You guessed that he was in the process of kicking his friends out to spend some time with you.

“Do you honestly think I care about her?” Enzo threw the question around. Upon hearing that you felt your heart standing still. Who was he talking about?

“Ok but if you don’t actually like her, then why go through the effort of chasing her down in that boutique”, Draco’s voice hollered all the way to you. After hearing that, even the tiniest hope—that he didn’t mean you, diminished within seconds.

“Yeah, you could literally have any girl you want, without spending a coin”, Blaise stated so painfully blatantly.

“You guys don’t get it”, Enzo defended his questionable, and apparently exaggerated, efforts to get you.

“My purchase barely cost me anything in terms of money, I have enough of that. But in return, I get a young, stupid and attractive girl who’ll do anything for me, because subconsciously she thinks she owes me”

Never in your entire life have you heard such a disgusting thing. For him you turned out to just be eye candy. A mere investment if you were being completely cynical.

Without wanting to hear more of what he had to say, you ran off back to your own dorm. His words rung in your head, stinging harder than you could have imagined. Back at your dorm, you barge in and burst into tears in front of all your friends. You’ve been holding them in ever since you heard his hurtful words.

After jumping on your bed, you instantly sink your head into a pillow. The darkness helped a little in blocking out everything. How could he have been so manipulative, and how stupid were you to have actually fallen for that?

His words may have been disgusting, but what was worse, was that they were true. Perhaps you would’ve really done anything he asked for in his dorm, had you not overheard their conversation.

With your makeup ruined and mascara running down your cheeks, you finally look up to answer to your friends’ concerns. All of them huddled around you, already comforting you even though they didn’t even know what happened. As you’re retelling what you overheard, you’re barely able to look them in their eyes. That’s how embarrassed you were.

When you were done, none of them could believe how sick and twisted Lorenzo Berkshire really was. Under that nice guy facade, hid a ugly and cunning playboy. At least Draco was open in showing what an asshole he was, this way he couldn’t really surprise you. But with Enzo, his first impressions were deceitful, which was way worse.

But under all your anger for Enzo, you were scared. Scared of the fact that Enzo was the first guy you’ve ever had real feelings for. Of course you only felt that way because he schemed and you fell right into his trap.

Still, a little part of your heart shattered upon the cruel reality. You didn’t want to believe it. A tiny guilt feeling part of you wanted so badly to walk up to his dorm again and to pretend nothing happened. It’d be easier than accepting his true intentions.

A sharp knock suddenly catches all of your attention. You must’ve been bawling out your eyes for a while now. You realize that Enzo had no idea about what happened and was still waiting for you.

“Can I come in”, you all hear him say from the other side of the door.

“FUCK Y-”, Anya begins yelling, before you immediately cover her mouth with your hand. You know she only meant the best, but you did it for a reason.

Everyone looked at you confused, trying to make out what you were thinking.

“Don’t let him know yet”, you whisper decisively, hoping he couldn’t hear you through the door.

They all ask why not, and truthfully you also weren’t too sure. But it felt more secure at the moment to not reveal your cards yet. Who knew how you could utilize the information you had. Ironically you learned that from Enzo in the past ten minutes.

“Is everything okay?”, he asks through the door, unsure of what was happening. What an amazing actor, pretending to genuinely care. How could one be so shamelessly two faced.

“You know what Enzo, I’m feeling a little sick”, you lie, trying to sound composed and calm. You couldn’t face him just yet.

“I'm sorry to hear that, I could-”

“I think it’s best if we just talk tomorrow”, you stop him before he could go on with more of his bullshit. In all honesty, talking to him was the last thing you wanted, but you had to sound believably fine.

“If you say so. Good night then”, and with that you heard his leaving footsteps.

“What are you doing?” Jenny asks you with a puzzled expression.

You explain to all of them that you need some peace right now to deal with your emotions and thoughts. The whole Enzo thing needed some time to be dealt with.

Since you were obviously in a bad headspace, they understand and leave you alone.

When lying in bed and processing your emotions from before, all the sadness, anger, embarrassment and fear—you suddenly feel something else too. You deeply wanted him to feel as foolish as you did too. You wanted him to regret his stupid little plan forever. You seeked for more than simply forgiving and forgetting, you wanted revenge.

[kachowder]

The Farmer (prologue)

The smell of mold was thick, and permeated the room you had so dreadfully woken up in.

The back of your head ached in dull pain, that wouldn’t allow you to remember it’s origins. Your chest was heavy as if the wind had left you and your lungs had been squeezed empty.

Your skin felt greasy and stiff. You wanted to shower. You needed to shower. But you couldn’t move. You didn’t know where you were. Was there even a bathroom to shower in?

The rotting wood and rusted windows made it seem unlikely. Though you could hear the buzzing of flies and croaks of frogs from behind the wall. Most likely, wherever you were, was next to some kind of lake or pond.

The itch of your skin was making you want to jump in, regardless of what might be lurking inside.

When the door creaked open, it’s hinges scratching against each other unpleasantly, you only found the ability to glance up from where you head had slumped against your shoulder.

Dark, sunken eyes that looked ill fitting, like the skin sagged over a face that wasn’t meant to be there. Scratchy stubble littered his chin. Greasy, unkempt hair that looked to be self maintained, if the jagged edges weren’t telling enough.

His clothes looked like they needed a few washes. And the smell that followed him was…mostly unpleasant. Like stale water and must. Not the most offensive smell, but it made your nose scrunch just for a moment.

The man, who you could guess was a farmer of some kind, stepped forward into the room, nearing the faint light the spilled in from the filthy window panes. Just enough, to where you could see the odd grey hue of his skin.

“mornin’…”

Your shoulders scrunched involuntarily, folding the skin of your back as your ears took in his voice.

Deep, monotone and a bit gruff. Like the voice of a man who never slept a day in his life. But it echoed. Like two voices speaking as one, and it rang in your ear like a quiet siren.

You supposed your lack of response made this man uncomfortable, as his eyes darted to the side for a moment, and he stepped forward. Closer.

It was now you noticed the plate of food in his large, calloused hands. It was now, as he sat down beside you, that you noticed the stiff bed you had woken up on. It was now, as the memories flooded through, that you realized the predicament you were in.

Your car was busted. Your friends were missing. You, were stranded in the middle of nowhere, in the company of a stranger who offered to help you.

and a voice in the back of your mind told you, that you were being chased.

The shift of the bed and squeaking of old springs led your eyes back to the face of the farmer infront of you, who looked just as lost in thought as you were.

He mumbled incoherently to himself, brows narrowing as if he was in the midst of an argument. Fingers fiddled and curled around the saggy fabric of his shirt, and for a moment, it seemed as if this episode had ended.

Before he looked up at you. And suddenly his brows furrowed deeper and his lips set into a deep frown.

“Your car…’s not gonna start anytime soon. You might be stuck here…’a while.”

Your chapped lips pursed, uncomfortably. “Can’t you call some repair men?”

He mimicked you, glancing away almost guiltily. “Ain’t no-body around here for miles. No land lines neither.”

Of course there wasn’t. You seemed to remember having lost connection of your phone sometime before your car broke down.

“…what about my friends? I gotta find them.”

“If they passed through here…I don’t think you’ll have much luck…”

What a comforting response. The farmer acknowledged your glare with an embarrassed clearing of his throat. “I’ll…take care of ya’ till you can get back on the road…”

“I can take care of myself just fine.”

The way he looked at you made you sick. Like dread had been poured down your throat and was slowly filling you the brim. His gaze was intense and foreboding, warning you that you did not know what you were up against.

“It ain’t just the animals out there you gotta worry about…it’s best of you to stay here. At least for a while.”

And how long is a while?

-1-

You learned very quickly, that a while was more than three days. And you learned even quicker, that sometimes it was better to not ask questions.

That was one of the rules here.

1. Don’t go out at night

2. Don’t open the shed

3. Don’t ask questions.

That last rule kept you sane.

Don’t ask why you couldn’t go out at night. Don’t ask why you can’t go in the shed.

Don’t ask why the farmer talks to himself. Don’t ask why his bedroom is never used.

Don’t ask why the cattle go stalk still when he’s nearby. Don’t ask why the crickets stop singing and frogs stop croaking when he’s outside.

Don’t ask about the smell. Don’t ask about the lumps in the ground.

Don’t ask why your neck is wet and sticky every morning. Don’t ask about your car. Don’t ask about your friends.

Don’t ask how long you’ll be stuck here.

Live ignorant while you’re here. Don’t think. It’s safer, to stop thinking. You’ll lose yourself if you think too much.

Those weren’t your words. You weren’t sure who’s they were. But they worked. They were comforting.

So you didn’t think. You no longer wondered where your friends were. You no longer wondered how long you’d be stuck here, or how long it’d take to fix your car.

The farmer took care of you. He said he would, and he did. You ate well, you slept okay and you smelled better then you had when you first woke up.

You paid little mind to the lingering touches or intense stares.

Or the moments you swore you heard something growl when you passed by.

Nothing was perfect. But it was safe.

Because you followed the rules.

Until you didn’t.

The mistake of needing the toilet late at night. The mistake of leaving the farmhouse into the pitch dark land around you. The mistake of opening the shed, thinking that it had been the outhouse you were looking for.

The mistake of asking questions, when a dark mass of oil and flesh stared back at you.

“What the fuck is that?”

You didn’t feel so safe anymore.

[hotnbloodied]

Yan!Cheater X Reader

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

TW: cheating, implied stalking, kidnapping, physical violence, confinement.

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

You were with Marshall for about three years now, everything seemed to be going fine. At least, that’s what you thought. You two had met back when you were starting out as a bartender. Honestly, maybe if you listened to your coworkers about how he was at the bar all the time and took people home regularly it would have been the first red flag, but you were too naive at the time. Not to mention that the more you think about it now, the more you realize that he always seemed to know what to say, sweet honeyed words, charming smiles, small gifts. You felt like you wanted to throw up, the two of you were even talking about starting a family for crying out loud!

So imagine your horror when you decided to stop by his apartment since you got out of your, now corporate job, early to get dinner started for him and found clothes scattered throughout. Bursting into his bedroom you found him and a person you didn’t recognize both naked in his bed. After telling both of them to fuck off you stormed out of his apartment and blocked his phone number and socials. Funny thing you realized is that he didn’t know where you lived. Since in all the time you two were together there was never a time he stepped foot in your house.

At first it was hard on you, you used to care for Marshall all the time and you grieved the time you spent on him. But after the week or so of angst that you allowed yourself, you started doing better. You had more time to yourself and more freedom. You even started accepting your coworker’s invitation for drinks. But just when you thought that you found a good groove to yourself the phone calls started.

‘babe plz take me back’

‘I miss u’

‘Y did u block me????’

‘U r NOTHING w/o me!!!’

You were startled to say the least, but you knew him (right?) There is no way a proud person like him would cause a scene that would make him look crazy… (would he?) So imagine your surprise when you were heading out of work only to be grabbed by Marshall. You almost didn’t recognize him since usually styled hair was greasy and messy, his face which was usually pristine looked rough and there were a couple of breakouts, his clothes that he meticulously planned were nowhere to be found but instead he wore loose fitting mismatched pieces.

If you saw him first you might have been able to steer clear of him, but alas, he saw you first and grabbed your arm. “Please take me back!” He sobbed. “I feel so empty without you!” You cringed and tried pulling back your arm, “hey, let go of me. You’re the one who wanted to backstab me.” He gripped tighter, making you wince a bit, “I promise I’ll be better! I’ll pay attention to no one else but you! I’ll think of no one else but you! Look! I even deleted all my contacts!” He attempted to take out his phone with only one hand but you didn’t care if it was true. “Let go of me you fuck!” You swung your arm trying to break free, it was until a coworker saw the bind you were in and stepped in. Separating the two of you and knocking Marshall down. “Leave me alone, or I’ll call the cops next time!” You yelled at his fallen form.

Marshall looked up at you and started laughing, it was slow at first but turned maniacal quickly. “I see how it is, have fun with your new boy toy while it lasts! I’ll get you back.” He clumsily stood up and left hastily. Your co-worker asked if you were okay and  you thanked him for his help. He told you that you should probably go to the police station to make a statement but you brushed him off. Oh how stupid of you.

One particular late night after working late you were walking home, until you suddenly blacked out. You awoke to a throbbing pain in your head, vision blurry and unable to move your body freely. “H-huh?” “Welcome home darling!” Through your haze, you saw Marshall. He looked better than the last time you saw him but something wasn’t right. You suddenly realized that you were in a situation so you looked around the room and you saw pictures of you scattered everywhere from the ceilings to the walls and even some on the floor. “Where… am I?” He scoffed, “home! Do you like the pictures?” He giggled, “it wasn’t until after you left did I realize that I didn’t have enough photos of you. Which reminds me!” He took out his phone and started snapping pictures of you while in your state of being restrained and confused in an unfamiliar bed. You looked so alluring to him, so much so that it got him a little too excited that even you could see it.

“Marshall, let me go! I won’t press charges.” “Oh that’s right that you won’t press charges, cause you will never be able to! I’ve prepared this cage for you, my pretty bird. And I'm not going to let the only good thing that was a part of my life leave me... ever again.”

[grimesgirll]

you like to match.

maybe it’s a remnant of the old world, back when your biggest problem was how well your outfit was received.

most of the time, you had to dress practically. whenever your group came across an untouched clothing store or cache of quality clothing, the priority was typically finding seasonally appropriate clothing and weather gear, fresh undergarments, new shoes, socks, etcetera. you rarely had the opportunity to put together a real outfit. it was all layering and just taking whatever you could carry. practicality had you collecting cargoes in every color.

rick enjoyed your style; you made an effort to look put together when you could and post-apocalypse, all it took was you finding a pair of jeans that actually fit to propel him from checking you out to tearing them off and bending you over the nearest surface.

daryl thought you were a mall rat. he takes the opportunity to make fun of you and your fashion sense while you’re out on a run.

“this is an abandoned kohl’s, not mooningdale’a or wherever the bitch from ‘friends’ worked.”

you giggle at him. “you mean bloomingdale’s?”

“whatever.”

the two of you are scavenging the former shopping center in search of any edible food, water, tools, anything for judith, just anything that could come in handy. winter coats and appropriate weather gear were pretty large priorities as well.

you thumb through racks of clothing, estimating if it suit fit the person from the group who you were mentally fitting. from flannels for carl, onesies for judith, and boxers for rick, you’re tossing your finds over your arm like an associate was about to come up and offer you a basket.

the pile you’ve accumulated is ditched on an ottoman in the shoe department when a pair of boots catches your eye.

“fuck,” you whisper low enough for daryl not to hear. the brown leather boots have you salivating at the mouth. god, you have nowhere to wear those but if you did…

you’re forced to pick your jaw up off the floor when daryl comes around.

“find anything worth bringin’ back?” his arms are full with everything from tool kits to batteries.

you shake your head. “nope, not much. i’m gonna grab a cart though,” you mention, gesturing to the haul in his arms.

“just don’t get a squeaky one in case there are any walkers lyin’ round.”

“of course!” you chirp, hand wrapping around the metal handlebar as you pry it from a line of other shopping carts.

daryl dumps his finds in and while his back is turned, you toss in the pair of boots. a layer of two of tissue paper on top seems like a good enough disguise.

then the two of you are back to walking the sales floor. you can’t help but watch daryl as he walks in front of you. your breath hitches when you notice how tightly that shirt clings to him - to his rather large arms specifically. you’re so engrossed in how he pushes the cart that you almost miss the gadget out of the corner of your eye.

suddenly you’re doing a double take and walking yourself back to the electronics section.

“you makin’ a documentary or somethin’?”

you turn over the camcorder in your hands. “maybe.” you smile at your traveling companion. “you can take me on one of your hunts and i can get some footage.”

“spook all the deer while you’re at it.”

laughing at him, you flip the screen fully open and put the recording device up to your eye. “maybe i’ll make a survival documentary. video diary or something.”

daryl is walking up to you and flipping the camera shut as soon as he notices the viewfinder trained on his groin.

“what?” you cry, immediately putting on a fake pout. “you don’t wanna make a porn with me?”

“baby, this is a kohl’s.”

you shrug. “what’s it matter? i’m sure people made porn in kohl’s before. wanna go to the dressing room?”

“i don’t think we have time for all that-,”

“ah, i think we do.”

despite his protests, you tug him away from the electronics section - camcorder in your back pocket - and make a beeline for the dressing room.

rick and daryl didn’t like you leaving alexandria without them.

most of the time they made you write them a list as opposed to letting you window shop in the wasteland yourself. so something so mundane as using a dressing room is kind of exciting to you.

the man with a hand in yours rolls the cart up to the dressing room attendant’s desk.

daryl frowns when he notices the boots under the tissue paper. “baby, the fuck’ are these?” he holds up the most gorgeous pair of boots you’ve ever seen.

your lip quivers. “the best pair of shoes i’ve seen since atlanta.”

“how the fuck are you gonna run from walkers in these?”

“uh, i won’t.” you spit.

“you mouthin’ off?”

“never.” you promise with a chuckle.

daryl just shakes his head. “put ‘em back.”

“i think i’ll keep them.”

“really?” he pushes the cart aside to stand in front of you, close enough so that you can feel his body heat radiating towards you.

you offer a playful smile. “i think you just need to see me in them first. then you’ll be convinced.”

with that, the two of you are darting into a dim dressing room - boots in hand.

it doesn’t take long for you to hear the fitting room door swinging open, announcing that rick has found you two.

“we were just discussin’ the merit of her wearing underwear.”

you’re glad the three of you are confined to the handicap dressing room. you wouldn’t want anyone to see your blush when rick gets a cocky grin on his face.

he takes in the sight of you with your jeans pushed down and his best friend next to you, another finger toying at your underwear.

“well, you know my answer.”

you don’t need to ask the constable; he’d make it law for you to go commando at all times if he could.

“yeah, i don’t think you need ‘em.” the younger man agrees.

“why is me wearing underwear such a debate?” you question with a wistful smile. “you two spend awfully more time talking about it than it off.”

“why don’t you show him your boots first?”

you lift an eyebrow, and a leg and do a little kick, still mindful of the intimate dressing room. the light falls on the posh leather boots in such a fashion that you’re forgetting you snatched them off of a shelf at kohl’s.

rick whistles. “you look great in them, darlin’. i’m curious where you think you’ll be wearin’ then though.”

shrugging, you settle back down onto the seat and begin freeing yourself from the leather brown boots. “not sure. they’re pretty to look at though.

“that they are.” rick agrees.

“why don’t you keep ‘em on?”

you raise an eyebrow. “i thought they were,” you make air quotations with your fingers, “shit boots.”

rick sniggers. “so mean to her, dare.’”

you nod, zipping a boot back up. “really.”

“i think you should apologize to the pretty lady. tell her you like her boots.”

you teeter a boot a foot above the ground invitingly. daryl falls to his feet in front of you with a frown that you know is a front. as soon as he’s faced with your inner thighs, his hands are laid out on top of them, and he’s iterating beneath you,”

“i’m sorry ‘bout your boots, baby.” he states, eager fingers inching closer to your waistband again. “i think you look fuckin’ fantastic in ‘em. but where are you gonna wear em’?”

you have an answer but as he peels back your panties and leans in to face a mere few inches from your dripping core, your response is stuck in your throat. it takes a sharp inhale to regain your thoughts when his finger and tongue begin tempting you at the same time. rick leans against the wooden paneled wall, crossing his arms at you.

“you know they’re gonna be hard to match with all your other clothes. not that you don’t have enough.” rick sighs, running a hand through his hair like he’s thinking about storage and reveling in spectating daryl touch and tease you. “you already filled up the closet last time you came out with us. you’re gonna have to call rosita over to take some of it off your hands.”

you roll your eyes. they’re telling you that you need to get rid of clothing like every other month. when it comes time for them to make you bag up anything you’re willing to part with, you typically found some way to end up on your knees or with them bending you over something. that usually gives you another month.

“i thought daryl was saying sorry.” you grumble, smooth legs kicking playfully in protest until daryl has them pinned against the seat, his tongue licking furious stripes from the top of your clit down to your aching little hole.

“baby, you’re so wet.” daryl comments, lips smacking with your slick.

“as always.” rick jeers, walking over to sit next to you. “hey, doll,” he greets into your mouth.

needy and bucking into daryl’s soft mouth, you return the kiss with a fervor that rick’s not expecting. he groans at the bruising brush of your pillowy smooth lips against his.

you’re reaching your hand to the side to grasp at him when you instead find your camcorder. remembering your original plan, you pull it forward onto rick’s lap.

he only chuckles into your mouth when you open the video camera and aim the lens on the man going to town between your legs.

“you forgive me, baby?” daryl inquires with the addition of a finger.

you nod up and down. “fuck, i forgive you, dare’. you’re so good with your mouth.”

rick’s smile turns upside down when he notices how shaky your hand is getting as daryl brings you closer to your first p.m. orgasm. he brings a steady hand up to relieve you of your cameraman duties.

the opportunity presents itself to fall back into rick so you take it. his chest is pressed snugly against your backside now as he angles the camcorder to catch the downright debaucherous scene occurring in this kohl’s dressing room.

your legs are quivering and you’re chanting daryl’s name when he removes his fingers and goes all in on your pussy.

rick clasps a hand on your mouth. “shh, honey. don’t want the others to think somethin’s wrong.”

“mhmmm,” you shudder against his hand.

the pleasure daryl’s been doling out to you comes in the form of a mind numbing orgasm that washes over your tensed form from head to toe. daryl doesn’t slow down either as you cost his face in your sweet slick. he’s licking patterns into you and you swear he’s trying to paint the alphabet across your cunt as you ride out the delicious pressure your boyfriend is treating you to.

“how are you gonna walk back to the car?” rick asks you, pulling your face gently towards his to cup your chin and engross you in another kiss. he only separates from you to pass the camcorder off to daryl and lift your thighs.

“might have to carry you.” daryl muses and begins undoing his belt.

“rick, you’re gonna fuck me, right?” you crane your neck to lock eyes with the man entering you right then and there.

“fuck, give me a moment, darlin’.” rick shakes his head as you grind against him, unable to think straight.

you’re catching your breath when you look up and notice the blue eyed man behind the somehow closed camcorder. bless him.

“i think you have the cover on,” you giggle and stretch using your tippy toes to flip it back for him.

once the red light is on your face, rick yanking your tank top off and attacking your bare chest with open mouthed kisses. the nipple he pops into his mouth pebbles even more at his touch. his mouth coupled with the all encompassing stretch you’re enduring is drawing every moan you can muster.

he cements a grip on your hips to raise you up and down on his cock in his lap. the plushnsss of your ass is making him feral as he’s met with that same pillowy softness upon every meeting with his pelvis.

daryl keeps the camera on you, rick, and the mess you’re creating in your laps. he shuffles to stand next to the seat and offers you his now nude cock which you happily take into your mouth, earning him a better angle in the process.

the camcorder captures you oohing and aahing around daryl as rick fucks the past few hours of tension out of you. nothing like justifying fucking your brains out in a dressing room on stress and performance.

the girthy man in your mouth is thinking the same thing. daryl hisses when he hits the back of your throat and you gag. he’s fucking your throat even faster once he catches sight of his dick disappearing in and out of your pretty pink lips on the screen.

like a seesaw, you rock up and down on rick. the way rick is thrusting upwards into you has you moaning pornographicly around his best friend’s length. it’s only so long before you have to give in. you’re rolling your hips frantically and making the most debauched noises around daryl.

that’s all it takes for the archer to twitch in your throat. you’re prepared to swallow but before you know it, he’s backing his cock out of your mouth and holding it directly in your face, pumping with one hand and recording in the other.

“watch out, rick,” he warns.

and just like that his cock is in front of you, spurting and coating your face.

“does that go with your outfit?”

[icabrth]

Childish

pairings: edward cullen x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend finally finds out about your childish secret.

warnings: none

main masterlist

The two of you were such an unlikely pair; he was dark and vampiric (literally), while you were naïve and childish – searching for the good in everyone. Neither of your friends would’ve ever thought of or even considered you guys together. You weren’t overly emotional and you still acted your age, you just viewed the world a little differently. However, due to this he didn’t exactly know just how different you were until visited your house for the first time, to help you with an assignment.

You were busy tidying up all the clutter in your bedroom, and shoving a pile of clothing under your bed when Edward suddenly knocked on your window, startling you. You turned to the source of vibrations, eyes locking with the ones of your boyfriend.

You zoned out for a short moment, before snapping back to reality at the realization that all of your plushies were still scattered everywhere from your bed to the top of your wardrobe. Immediately shutting the curtains as you scrambled to pick everything up and hide everything. As you did, you didn’t miss the smirk forming itself on your face.

Just as you were about to pick up your favorite stuffed toy “Sunny”, (which was a grey elephant with Dumbo-like-ears) Edward beat you to it. As he carefully inspected it, you found a suddenly found the floor patterns very interesting. “Listen, they’re not mine–!” You pleaded, timidly lifting your head to meet his gaze. Though, you were met with surprise at his expression.

He was smiling – grinning, in fact. His teasing smile fit perfectly with his squinting blue eyes, you thought. The glimpse in his eyes stunned you, and you could no longer move as your body wanted you to. He spoke up, “Sunny, huh?”. You furrowed your eyebrows at him and he chuckled.

“I can read thoughts, remember?”

“Babe, I told you not to read my thoughts anymore!” You wined, stomping your foot as you snatched the plushie away from him. You sat down on the bed, facing away from him, huffing. You acted out of awkwardness in situations like this as you never really knew how to handle them.

Edward pulled you out of your thoughts and into his arms, the two of you positioned leaning against the bed frame. He kissed your cheek plenty times as his ice cold, firm hands came in contact with your chest. The way he did it was nowhere near sexual, he simply enjoyed being able to keep up with your heartbeat. “you’re adorable, you know?” He started as he played around with the elephant, holding it by its giant ears. “Is this one your favorite?” He asked you in a baby voice.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” You laughed, “it’s not like I’m a baby or anything – I just like having these plushies, it’s nostalgic”. Although Edward couldn’t read your emotions, he practically sensed the way your heart fell.

“Hey, hey! You know I didn’t mean it like that!” His voice was soft, even when he raised it. “I get it, I still hold onto my first prom suit from the 1900s”.

“Did you even have prom back then? You giggled into his chest. “Sort of, I guess it was more like a ball”

[lunarw0rks]

Hi! I was wondering if you’d be open to writing a Ghost x Reader fic where the reader is relatively new to the 141. The team has seen her work but still doesn’t trust her fully. Ghost and her seem to have a magnetic pull to one another with both trying to avoid their attraction. One day while sparring the reader ends up straddling him with a training knife pressed to his throat. Both stare at one another, realizing. (NSFW or SFW whichever!) Feel free to change whatever or not write it if it’s not your vibe!

A/N: Ghost has a knife kink, confirmed ;) Not explicitly NSFW, but it's hinted. Part two w smut??

Summary: During a sparring session with Ghost, you end up on top of him, and he struggles to hide his amusement.

Warning(s): knives, canon-typical violence, suggestive content, sexual tension | Word Count: 1k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ PART TWO | ao3 ver. // have a request?

Sparring

From the minute you set foot on the base, you felt like you didn’t belong there. Based on your records, training, and skills? You were a perfect fit. Personally? Not so much.

Of course, some welcomed you, putting on their fake smiles and at least attempting to include you in things.

Captain Price, who was under obligation to be civil because he was your boss. Gaz, who was closer in age, usually followed behind the Captain’s decisions. The Scot or “Soap”, as they called him? Indifferent to you. His usual humorous demeanor would diminish the second you entered a space.

Then, there was Ghost, who perhaps had the most intimidation about him. Though he didn’t trust you, or anyone either, his distaste wasn’t as potent as the other soldiers. Sure, he could be harsh and cold when he wanted to be, but that was the way he approached conflicts.

You learned to expect it, to work around it. You didn’t have a choice. Go AWOL over some social rejection? Not in the cards for you.

—

You’re set to deploy with them, take down some figure named “Hassan”, or so the folder you read stated. To prepare, you need to get yourself physically prepared. These new operations were no joke, undoubtedly worse than months of boot camp.

You’re panting, and feel like your legs are going to crumble from their overuse. He won’t let up on you, not that quickly.

“Are you even trying, Sergeant?” Ghost heckles you, dripping in self-confidence, as he dodges your slices with ease. He always seems double the speed you are, even before you were winded and dissatisfied with your performance.

You grit your teeth in response, remaining determined that you’ll get one good jab at him. In your wild imagination, the foam knife you’re holding would somehow turn real when it slices him — cut the arrogance right out of him.

Realistically, however? Not a chance, unless you can find a way to slow him down.

“You’d be dead ten times, ‘you keep stabbing like that.” He puts his defensive arms down, allowing you to rest for a few seconds.

Or so you thought.

Suddenly, he grappled you to the foam mat beneath you, knocking the small amount of air you had left straight out. You struggled against his pin, but he was much too strong.

He squints down at you, as he maintains his solid grip. “You only have about ten seconds to win a knife fight, before you’re dead, or pinned just like this, with nowhere to go.” He motions to the predicament you’re in currently.

Your thighs were pinned against the floor with his knee, and wrists contained on each side of your head. You’re tempted to give him his victory, so he’ll leave it at your metaphorical death.

“Maybe what you need,” his eyes drill into you, as he begins his theory, “is a raise of the stakes.” He reaches into his holster and pulls out his very real knife. He holds it up, examining the way it glimmers against the fluorescents.

If he was anyone else, you probably would’ve tapped out or insisted on using the fake one. But based on the way he was caging you, he wasn’t asking. It was an order.

As if to prove the danger, he holds the blade to your cheek—not letting it cut you, but applying just enough pressure for you to understand the lesson of it.

Never let the enemy pin you, chances are you’re dead in seconds. He’d lectured you with that statement before when you sparred with him.

With his right arm occupied, there was a rapidly closing window for you to find a way out of this. You swung your arm, smacking the blade out of his fist.

You ended up straddling him and clambered for the knife. If this were his full potential, he would’ve already retrieved his knife and cut your throat. But he was allowing you to overtake him this time as if he was amused by it.

You pressed the blade to his throat, which was protected by the fabric of his balaclava. Thighs to thighs, stomach to stomach. His stare didn’t change once, remaining stoic even when held at knifepoint, with his own weapon nonetheless.

“That’ll suffice.” His voice weathered a bit, like it was hard for him to choke out something professional, given the fact that you could feel every bit of him at the moment.

You couldn’t lie, the position was questionable. But you’d proved your point.

Even though he knew there were dozens of countermoves he could use, and basically decimate you in the process, he doesn’t. He’d never admit how much he liked being under you, letting you threaten him with his own Army knife.

You felt a heat rise to your cheeks as you loosened up a bit, flipping the knife around so you could pass it back to him, handle first.

No matter how hard he tried to hide it, you had noticed the way his eyes softened when you flipped the power. 

Though your maneuvers needed work, he hadn’t expected the sudden burst of aggression—something you definitely needed when in the thick of battle. At least that’s what he’d tell himself to rationalize the feelings he was experiencing.

He returns his knife to the holster but doesn’t shove you off him like he thought he would. He instead places his hands on each hip, moving you to the side like your weight was nothing.

He moves to kneel beside you, meeting your eye level again. “Tomorrow, after hours. We’ll work at that aggression, yeah?”

You could hear the smirk on his face as he spoke, returning to his feet. He’s now standing above you briefly, looking down at you.

He straightens his balaclava, admiring the powerful stance he had over you as you knelt below him.

“Don’t be late.” He spits it out, then leaves the training room without another word. He smirks to himself as he strolls down the halls, thinking about the picture of you on your knees for the rest of his night.

Inside his head, he knew another sparring session was guaranteed to end up with you on top of him again. He was looking forward to it, no doubt.

[piichuu]

♡ THE ONE AND ONLY CUPID - MAKI’S PLAN

“it’s gonna go well, y/n. didn’t he ask you if you would be here?” maki asks as you’re looking at yourself in the mirror for the hundredth time. you’ve been fixing your hair for half an hour, not wanting it to look messy while also contemplating if you’ve chosen the right clothes.

“i know, but i still want to look my best, what if he sees me up close and thinks i’m ugly or something? i don’t want to fuck anything up by being weird or anything either. like what if i start to talk a lot with him and he thinks i’m super weird and-“ “y/n. you’re the prettiest girl to ever exist and if he thinks you’re weird, he’s the weird one. just be yourself and everything will be okay, so stop worrying so much,” maki puts her hands on your shoulders, lightly shaking you.

you take a deep breath and close your eyes for a quick moment before panda walks into maki’s room. “they’re here now,” he says and maki flashes you a reassuring smile before leaving you alone in the room and heading downstairs towards the hallway to meet up the first years.

the voices of them can be heard as you walk out of the room, taking slow steps down the stairs as you’re trying not to overthink the entire situation. but it’s difficult not to. what if you do something that causes megumi to not want to talk to you? will it be super awkward between you two? what will your friends come up with? how will tonight turn out? will he stay the night or will he go home early because he doesn’t feel comfortable. there’s every type of thought swarming your head.

when you finally walk into the hallway where everyone else are, you can see the faces of the three first years. yuji is as talkative as always while nobara joins in on the conversation. meanwhile, megumi is standing beside them with his arms crossed as he’s looking around, his gaze suddenly meeting yours for a quick second before looking away.

the first years walk inside the house and go to put all of their things in the living room where you’ll be spending most of the evening before it’s time to sleep. megumi doesn’t seem to smile even once while you all walk into the living room and get ready to watch a movie.

you and maki prepared snacks for everyone which is now standing on the table in front of the couch. this one is a lot bigger than the one at megumi’s dorm as everyone can now fit. “okay, how about we watch a horror movie? any suggestions?” maki asks as she clicks herself into netflix on the tv. everyone thinks about their best suggestions until yuji says something. “maybe we could watch the latest scream movie, it’s a classic after all.”

everyone seems to agree and maki soon puts on the chosen movie. the opening scene causes you to flinch as ghost face suddenly appears out of nowhere, murdering the person who’s been shown the most for the first couple of minutes, the title of the movie soon rolls in and the movie starts for real.

you lean back on the couch, glancing over at megumi every once in a while. he’s sitting in between yuji and nobara who are quietly fighting each other about a candy that they both want. megumi seems to try and ignore it as he stares towards the tv, but he rolls his eyes every now and then, probably finding it rather irritating to sit between those two.

your eyes won’t drift away from his, you can stop looking towards him. it is only when he turns his head that you look away, not wanting him to see you gazing towards him. but when you look back at him again, he’s now the one watching you, flashing you a light smile before quickly turning his head yet again.

maki nudges your shoulder. “you have to do something,” she whispers but you shakes your head frantically, not wanting to do anything, especially not now when everyone’s in the room. “why not? i could ask you two to cook dinner so you can spend time alone.

she smiles reassuringly but you keep shaking your head. “i don’t want it to be awkward,” you mumble, causing her to give you a blank stare while tilting her head to the side. “if you don’t make a move today i will haunt you when i die, i swear.”

the movie continues and an hour later it finally ends, causing maki to clap her hands together. “alright, we need some people to make dinner! y/n and megumi, do you want to? i can go show you where everything is,” maki speaks and you give her a glare which only causes her to smile more. megumi lets out a quiet “okay” before the three of you go to the kitchen together.

you stand in silence while maki shows where everything in the kitchen is and gets a few ingredients from the fridge so you and megumi can make hamburgers for everyone. then, after only five minutes she goes back to the living room, leaving you and megumi alone.

he clears his throat and scratches his temple slightly. “what do you wanna do? do you wanna cut the vegetables, prepare the fries or make the burgers?” he asks, not seeming to look at you as both of you are staring down at the floor. “i can cut the vegetables if that’s okay,” you mumble and he nods. “that’s okay.”

the kitchen isn’t the biggest so you and megumi have to stand rather close to one another as he’s cooking the burgers while you’re cutting the vegetables. his arms touches yours for a quick second before megumi has to flip the burgers.

laughs of your friends can be heard from the living room and megumi sighs lowly. “wasn’t very nice of them to have us do the job,” he chuckles lightly and you nod, looking up at him quickly before turning your head again to look back at the vegetables you’re cutting. “we should ask someone else to help us so they can fix the fries.” “no, it’s fine. we can handle, i can do the fries as well when i’m done with this.”

silence takes over the kitchen as the two of you are preparing dinner for everyone. you’re trying to cut the vegetables perfectly as megumi finishes cooking the burgers and goes to prepare the fries. your friends are still laughing and talking in the living room, seeming to have fun as you and megumi are stuck cooking dinner.

“are you gonna stay the night here?” he asks which causes you to look up at him as you stop cutting the vegetables. “i think so,” you say, flashing him a sweet smile before putting all vegetables on a small plate and then going to wash the cutting board and knife. “are you gonna stay?”

he shrugs his shoulders as he leans against the fridge while waiting for the fries to be ready to eat. “probably, depends on what yuji and nobara does. but is the house even big enough for all of us?” you nod and put the cutting board away. “yeah, maki has had more people here before that’s slept over, so it should be fine.”

megumi reflects your smile and after only twenty minutes, the two of you walk into the living room with the food you’ve cooked together. you take a few turns to bring everything together with plates and your friends look down at the food with hungry eyes as if they haven’t eaten for years.

“thank you! i’m sure this will taste amazing,” yuji says before beginning to dig into a hamburger. he lets out a satisfied sigh before everyone else begins to eat as well. megumi gives you a thumbs up when noticing how they all enjoy it and you respond by giving him a thumbs up as well.

the evening continues on and soon the night arrives. even though most of you had planned to stay up all night, the amount of movies you watched and how much food and snacks you ate, the sleepiness is slowly taking over.

yuji, nobara, toge and panda are already asleep on the couch while you, maki, yuta and megumi are awake, well, barely.

maki is leaning her head on yuta’s shoulder while he has his hand in hers, causing a smile to paint your lips. they seem to have finally talked about everything that was needed to talk about, when thinking about it, yuta nor maki have seem to avoid each other tonight or in the group chat lately.

you’re now sitting beside megumi while looking at everyone else. maki and yuta are slowly falling asleep but you however cannot seem to do the same, not when your heart is beating incredibly fast.

“are you tired?” megumi suddenly asks as he shifts a little on the couch. “yeah, it’s getting pretty late,” you mumble while looking at him with a tired smile on your face. he chuckles lightly and leans his head back against the cushion. “what did you think of the movies we watched?”

“they were good, too many horror movies though.” “are you scared?” you roll your eyes and shake your head which causes him to laugh quietly. “i’m a good fighter, don’t worry. no one would be able to get to you,” he speaks which for some reason melts your entire heart and it must be visible in your eyes as he shuffles slightly closer to you.

without thinking twice, you lean your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, just embracing the warmth he brings just by being close. not another word is spoken, but you’re well aware that this night went better than you could’ve expected.

ELEVEN | MASTERLIST | THIRTEEN

PAIRING: fushiguro megumi x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: itadori yuji is behind the account “the one and only cupid” where others in tokyo can anonymously ship two people they think should get together. what happens when you’re suddenly shipped with fushiguro megumi whom you’ve never talked to before and why do you all of a sudden have to see him in the school hallway every single day?

WARNINGS: cursing

AUTHOR’S NOTES: i haven’t proofread this and i wrote parts of this last night when i was tired so it might be a little messy but i hope it’s still okay!!

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[dollwritesarchive]

𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒, 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓉 ⎹ 𝓜., 𝓖.𝓢., 𝓒., 𝓗.𝓢.

❝ ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ⤻ jujutsu kaisen / kinktober 2022 / @dollsanime-library

❝ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs ⤻ mahito, geto, haruta, choso [ but mostly geto & mahito ] x captive!human!reader ( f! )

❝ ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ⤻ nsfw! none of my writings are meant for anyone under the age of 18, and any minors interacting will be blocked on site.

❝ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ⤻ this is a dark fic, please don’t read if any of the warnings are potentially triggering for you! kidnapping, recollections of violence and current violence against reader, noncon, group sex, cum marking, impact kink, free use kink, facefucking, degradation and threats, forced breeding mention, overstimulation, double PinV, all that good stuff.

❝ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⤻ 4.2k / one shot

❝ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴇ ⤻ i do not consent to having my work reposted / translated / stolen in any capacity for any reason. please reblog and leave a comment to support content creators! my work is very rarely proof read so mistakes may be present. all characters / pairings i write for are 18+ with no exceptions.

you’d severely underestimated Mahito’s cruelty.

no, you knew just how wicked he was. but you’d thought that you were special. he could never hurt you, that’s what you told yourself every time you would lay awake in his arms after you’d been an audience to his cruelty. you were his little plaything, he’d said so himself. that meant he considered you fun enough to keep around and play with, which — at first— was enough for you.

until you realized just how deep you were, and suddenly you were drowning in his wickedness, sucked to the bottom of a dark, cold abyss. all you wanted was to be able to breathe, to find the surface again, so you sought out the only ones you thought were capable of protecting you.

those Jujutsu Sorcerers he and Geto talked about; they almost seemed wary of them. especially one. Gojo Satoru. you’d managed to run away, and track him down, beg for protection, which he and another, Nanami if you remembered correctly, had promised you.

but you were so stupid to ever believe that there would be a place in this dimension or any other that Mahito couldn’t find you, and once he’d dragged you back to these stinking sewers, kicking and screaming by your hair, he’d told you so.

now, his words echoed in your otherwise blank mind, bouncing off each corner. it was easier to focus on remembering his voice, than to listen to the sound of your body being violated over and over, relentlessly, by those recruited by the curse. your sex squelching as you’re forced to take Choso’s size, again. you knew it was him, because he liked to grip your hips and dig his thumbs into your lower belly until you feel like they’re going to push right through you. pressing you inward so he can feel himself bulging against you on the other side. you could feel just how snug the fit was, you can only imagine the view— the shape of his cock poking out from your belly; you were thankful for the cum and tear soaked blindfold that kept you from being forced to watch the sordid display. and Choso liked to rut deep, battering your cervix until you were crying. this time, however, you could only gurgle and whimper, mouth full of cock, too. Haruta’s, to be exact.

it wasn’t just his breathless moaning that gave it away, whining like he’s never been touched in his life, but also the way he would pull his length free, allow you a moment to breathe and drizzle more cum and spit on to your cheeks, and slap them and your lips with his member, giggling when you purse your lips and try to turn your head. but your head was hanging over the edge of the concrete, so there was nowhere for you to escape to, especially when Haruta was planted in the water that you could hear running just below your dangling head. “Wanna see the shape of my cock imprinted on your messy, pretty face.” Haruta croons, grasping a handful of your damp hair at the root and holding you tight in place. “I’ll leave bruises of it if I want to.” he says, and you could practically hear the grin he must’ve worn. “I can do whatever I want to you, you know? Carve you up, break your bones, leave my name in burn marks over your skin. And there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You’re completely helpless, aren’t you?” he punctuates the question with a harsh slap to your face, this time with his palm. “Go on, say it!” he urges with boyish delight, “Tell me that you’re a helpless, dirty whore and I can rape you how I want.”

you didn’t want to— the very words threatening to elicit a gag, but you knew he’d hurt you again if you didn’t. “I—I’m a helpless,” you choked on the words, broken each time Choso bottoms out inside you, “helpless dirty whore… and y—you can rape me however y—you want to—“ whilst you struggle to form the words, Haruta places his length over your lips and rubs it between them, slurring the words, and he moans again.

“Mm… Nowhere to run to… no one to help you… you just have to lay here and take whatever we want to give. Fuck, it gets me even harder knowing you hate this.” maybe he could see you clenching your teeth, or the way your brows were knit together, “I want to hurt you even more now!”

but Choso was deep in your guts, squeezing your belly, and grunting under his breath. the stretch was unbelievable the first couple of times he took you, but now your body yields to his size, back arching, and arms and legs trying to flail. if only they weren’t both bound with thick, tight bandage. calves to thighs, and forearms to biceps, leaving your hands and feet helplessly exposed to twitch.

“Not— not inside again—“ you croak, clenching the throbbing tool nestled in your body. he was close, but you were already so full of cum that when he pulled out there was sure to be plenty to ooze on to the concrete under you. you didn’t know if you could handle another load. “P—please—“

Haruta laughs again, pulling your hair to angle your head up towards the man fucking you, though you were thankful you couldn’t see him. your mouth was slack, sore, and hopeless moans slipped from it each time he pounded himself home. “Aw, Choso, she doesn’t want you to cum inside her again! Poor little whore must be so full! Let’s see!” his free hand rubs your lower belly, pushing down until you’re squirming— the remnants of your past assaults gushing from between your thighs and soaking Choso’s groin. your face is on fire with humiliation. “Why don’t you beg him real cute-like, and maybe he’ll be nice enough to paint your tits, instead?”

you knew Haruta was going to get off on your begging, but you clench your fists, and bite your lip in hopes to stifle your humiliating sounds. “P—please, Choso! Please c—cum on my tits, instead! I don’t… I don’t think I can take anym—“

but one hand abandons the grip on your hip to clamp over your mouth, his voice more akin to an animal’s snarl. “Stop talking.” he’s grinding his teeth, you can hear it in his voice, and Haruta has settled for sliding his cock, still slippery with your spit, into your fist. muffled, you try again to beg, but he’s already burying himself as deep as he can go. “Do you think I’ll show you mercy? That all you need is a couple of pretty words and I won’t take you how I want?” you shake your head, eyelids fluttering behind the sticky blindfold. you groan in defeat when you feel him release inside, the warmth spreading. and he leans closer, until his breath is against your cheek. you flinch, but can go nowhere while Haruta grips your roots. “I’ll breed you over and over, however many times I please. And if you ever,” the word is punctuated by a deep pump, coaxing a squeak of submission into his palm, “speak out of turn again, I will make sure that Mahito stands aside and watches you birth a litter of my curses.” weakened, you nod submissively, and after a moment he withdraws his hand. when he pulls his manhood from your tremor-wracked body, you suck in a breath through your teeth; you can hear the cum that won’t physically fit inside you anymore splatter on the ground underneath you.

“He’s wicked, isn’t he?” Haruta hums, fucking your clenched fist at a fervent pace, “but don’t you worry— I’m not. You asked for cum on your tits, didn’t you?” you want to protest, but you don’t have the strength left to, and when Haruta releases your hair, your head hangs over the edge again, your body limp and shaking. his hand glides down to grasp a handful of your breast, squeezing tight, “I’m gonna paint them so pretty for you.” his thumb and forefinger pinch and pull your nipple until you’re crying out, back forced off the ground, pain bringing tears to your eyes, and he moans, finding more pleasure in seeing you distressed than from your hand. “Come on, cry some more,” he coaxes, alternating between tugging and slapping, leaving your skin stinging, “I’m almost there…”

twin footprints approach, and you recognize Mahito’s voice. “How’s my brave girl doing?”

you whine, trying to reach for the sound, temporarily and willingly forgetting that he’s the one that put you in this position in the first place— convinced that he would stop the torture now that you’d learned your lesson. “Mahito!” your free hand clenches and unclenches desperately, “H—help!”

“Help?” he asks, mocking sympathy as his footsteps echo around you, coming closer, before he squats down beside you, and you feel the gentle dance of his lithe fingertips over your thigh. he grips one in his massive fist and drags you closer, grinding your back into the stone floor and elevating your head on to it again. at least there was that— you wouldn’t be lightheaded from being upside down anymore. “Oh, you precious little thing. Why would I put a stop to this when it’s so much fun to watch?” he coos at your puzzled whimper, running the digit pad over droplets of sweat, smearing them into the grime of the ground that clung to your skin. you were sore everywhere, plenty of swollen bruises and cuts donning your flesh, and he didn’t even try to avoid them. “Didn’t I ever tell you? I hate traitors.” he sighs, allowing you to squirm. he doesn’t even seem to mind Haruta’s high pitched whimpering as he smears the tip of his cock over your abused breasts, glazing them with his release. “But, of course, I didn’t want to kill you for betraying me; I’m much too fond of you for that. I want to believe that you will see the error of your selfish ways through just a little bit of punishment—“

“Please!” you break in, crying for him, “I—I am so sorry, Mahito! I won’t do it again— I swear I’ll be good— I’ll never try to run away again!” you were writhing, trying to push yourself off the ground towards him, “No more, please… I can’t… no more…”

Mahito giggles, his hand careening between your legs and you yelp, frantically shaking your head and babbling the same, protesting pleas. your whole lower half was sore and throbbing, used to your limit and then some, but his large, svelte fingers trace the shape of your swollen clit, “Look at this poor, little cunt, Geto.” he purrs, trailing downward, teasing your folds. the entrance pulsates in opposition of yet another entry. “She’s so sensitive, look at her shake, I’ve hardly even touched her.”

Geto whistles in admiration, and even though you’re blindfolded, you imagine him standing over you, head tilted and sharp eyes focused between your legs. waves of heated humiliation wash over you relentlessly. “She’s had to take so much cock since she came back to us,” Geto murmurs, and you can tell by the way his voice traveled closer that he was squatting down, too. “I wonder if she even knows the difference anymore? Or if she’s been fucked so braindead that she no longer cares who it is, as long as someone’s plugging her up.” a palm, Geto’s you assume, pets your head, pushing your damp hair back, only to curl into a tight fist and lock the tendrils in a harsh vice.

“Is that true?” Mahito taunts, pushing his fingers inside you. the sensation is electric, and your head rolls against the concrete, whining. your thighs twitch, desperate to close and and push him out, but they can’t and he’s already knuckle deep with two fingers spreading you open. “Would you even remember what my cock feels like? Or did we let the others fuck the sense out of that pretty head of yours?”

“M—Mahito, please…” you mewl, lower lip quivering. the feeling was already overwhelming, and you were going to cry again. but he didn’t care, his digits probe deep, a third joining the first two to force your stretch even further, “Please… I see… the error of my ways…! Please, please, please… stop… it’s too much… I’m so—sorry—“

Geto hums, thoughtful, his fingers gripping the blindfold to snatch it from your face. “You don’t yet. But you will.” you squint, even in the dimness of the sewer, it was unbearably bright and blinding, and it takes you several seconds to blink the dizziness away, before you see Geto leaning over you, staring down at your writhing form. he’s smirking, but it’s partially a grimace, as if he’s disgusted and aroused at the same time. feeling unworthy to meet his eyes, you avert your own, to catch a glimpse of Choso and Haruta in the corner. both are stroking themselves. Choso strokes slow, eyeing your every move with a furrowed brow and a tight-lipped frown, but Haruta is pumping himself quick, moaning again, licking his lips. they were forcing themselves hard again. to fuck you again. your stomach turns. you suddenly wish he’d let you keep the blindfold on.

your eyelids flutter, looking down your torso to Mahito, who was thrusting those fingers into you at an inhuman pace, and you couldn’t help but squeal his name, mouth hanging open. he catches your eyes and grins, wickedly, yanking his fingers free and smearing the cocktail of essences left there over your belly. “I wonder how much more it would take to open you up.” he croons, mostly to himself, and you shake your head, but he’s not paying attention, discarding his own clothes while you quiver on the floor, splayed and vulnerable.

“N—no more…”

Mahito grins, wrapping a fist around himself. he was already solid, so you knew he’d been watching for a while, possibly even stroking his cock to the sound of your begging for mercy, and the thought made you want to throw up. had this always been in the back of his mind? ever since that first night he took you in, had Mahito thought about forcing you to take him and all of his comrades? and had your betrayal simply given him a reason to do so? “No more? You sure?” Mahito asks, and you nod, desperate for a break, before he cocks his head to one side, and in one, smooth motion, he rips your arms free from the bandaging. you hadn’t noticed his fingertip was blade shaped until you feel it nick the flesh of your bicep, and a trickle of blood races towards your armpit. he does the same with your legs, and you slump, free but too weak to move, on the gritty concrete. “You’d better try to get away, then.”

what?

you wince, peering up at him perplexed, but he’s wearing that damned, wicked smile. “Go on.” you bite down on your lower lip, heart racing. you didn’t know whether or not to do what he says, so you decide you’re better off trying. forcing your body to flounder, you manage to roll on to your stomach, and take a moment to try and plant your palms on the floor, pushing yourself up on to all fours. “Go on!” he repeats, too joyful for your liking, and uses the sole of his bare foot with a forceful kick to your bum to push you forward. with a pathetic yip, your arms give out, and your chin hits the concrete hard when you fall forward. the muscles in your arms refuse to cooperate. “Scream for your Jujutsu Sorcerers to come and save you! Come on!” another kick, and you whine, using your forearms braced against the ground instead to try and pull yourself away, towards what you knew to be the way out. it was a slow crawl, one that had him and Geto and Haruta all laughing at, but you were trying.

“H… Help…” you mumble, inching closer.

“If we can’t hear you, I promise you they can’t, either.” Geto said, now standing a few feet in front of you. “Scream.”

“Help!” you croak, pulling yourself closer. your legs weren’t even bending at this point, and you could feel the mess leaking out of you as you drag yourself along the floor; you were utterly humiliated and exhausted. “Please! Help me!”

Mahito’s laugh echoes just behind your hopeless plea, and then you felt his hands on you, reaching for you. you careen when he grabs your hair at the scalp to lessen the pain, leaning towards him, and he hauls you to your feet, though your knees are buckling before you’re even partially planted, and you’re collapsing forward into his chest, both your hands trying to grasp at his hair and his arms to keep you up. “They’re not coming for you, are they?” he asks, dual tone eyes heavily shadowed by thick lashes. you shake your head, defeated, and one of his hands slip under your thigh, pulling it up, and then the other, lifting you off your feet and spreading you open to him. “No one is coming to help you, baby. You just don’t matter enough.”

“P— please…” you whine again, but he wasn’t listening. “I’ll be good… I promise I will… just let me rest—“ you cry out when Mahito perches you atop his cock. just the prodding alone is enough to send your overstimulated nerves into a frenzy, but he was none too gentle in pushing you down, impaling you all at once. your walls clench, a feeble attempt to push him out, and then spasm when he stretches them open further.

he tightens his grip on your shaking thighs to keep you from kicking, if you could muster the strength, and releases a breath he must’ve been holding, and it morphs into a moan. “Mm, so this pussy does remember me after all,” he croons, and he’s already bouncing you up and down. your stomach churns, your nails dig into his shoulders, fierce enough to collect crimson under them as you bring blood to the surface, but he doesn’t care. if anything, it adds to the eroticism for him, and his fingers dig into the bruised, supple flesh of your sticky thighs. the feeling of being full again, his rigid girth barreling through you, is all but overwhelming. he doesn’t fuck you like he used to— it’s not fun and exciting, it’s cruel and rough. he’s making a point to hurt you on purpose for betraying him, and using his cock to drive his punishment home into your belly over and over again. he’s deeper than you thought was possible, and his ferocity and speed is inhuman. the head of his cock pokes against your belly from inside, battering those already abused nerves.

you can’t even begin to try and hold your pleas back, babbling for him to just please stop before he kills you.

“Such a dramatic, little cunt you are.” Geto comments, and you can hear the swish of his garments behind you. was he undressing, too? you try to look over your shoulder, but his palm smacks into the back of your head and forces it forward, burying it in Mahito’s heaving chest. “And bold.” you’re smothered against firm, muscle pads, and you pant, open mouthed, and taste Mahito’s sweat on your lips, begging for his forgiveness in a string of breathless apologies. “I never once gave you permission to look at me.”

Mahito snickers, spreading your legs wider, pushing your knees up towards your ribs until they won’t bend further and you mewl— too much more pressure and he’d snap a bone. “The rougher I am, the tighter she gets!” he exclaims, “She’s like a little, fucking vice.”

“That’s no good, then,” Geto hums, and you feel his rippled torso against your back— you hold your breath, expecting him to take your ass. “It sounds like we’ll just have to stretch her out a bit more.” smearing then swollen head of his cock over your ass, he teases the hole for a moment, before careening lower to stuff himself into your core, urging for Mahito to share.

you squeak in protest, both arms flailing behind you to push him back. “That’s— too—!!”

“That’s too what?” Mahito grins, baring his teeth as he plows ahead, “Don’t tell me that’s too much cock for you, baby. You must feel like you’re going to tear in half!” he sounds all too elated at the thought alone.

but he seizes both by your wrists and draws them back, squeezing tight, “These bones of yours are mighty frail,” he hisses in your ear, bucking his hips to nest deep inside, “and if you try to push me out again I’ll crush them.” squeezing his fists, you can feel your wrists yielding, the bones on the edge of fracture. you can't even clench your fists, but instead let your hands go limp, whining in submission. “That’s better.” keeping your arms pulled back, Geto rocks into a rhythm almost as cruel as Mahito. locked between the two, you can do nothing but slump forward against Mahito’s chest and try to take it.

before long, whatever strength you had left was quite literally fucked out, and you were nothing but a rag doll for them to play with.

the sensation of both of them filling you at the same time, fucking at different paces, and their cocks rubbing against each other inside you was too much for your already exhausted psyche to handle, so even when Haruta and Choso blocked in both sides, taking advantage of how low Geto was holding your arms, you couldn’t even look up. your cheek smushed against Mahito’s chest, your eyes glazed over.

“Look at her!” Haruta chimes, wrapping your fingers around his manhood and pumping quick, “She snapped so easily!”

Geto was stifling a moan by grinding his teeth, but you could feel him throbbing against your sensitive walls, each and every vein that ground into them had your head spinning. he liked it.

Choso was fucking your other hand, but his free one grabbed your face and pulled it towards him, and you’re too limp to fight it, eyelids fluttering as he glares down at your dazed countenance. you couldn’t focus on his face, your hazy eyes kept threatening to roll back, and a string of incoherent whimpering falls from your swollen lips. “It didn’t take long to turn this one into a mindless cocksleeve. It’s almost impressive.”

Mahito chortles, though it’s strained as he works his jaw, fucking so recklessly that his own climax must’ve been working him over. “All the potential has been there since, ah, the very beginning.” he boasted, before looking at you, “Little whore was always more than eager to spread her legs when I snapped my fingers. Isn’t that right?” if he expected a response, you couldn’t give him one that wasn’t a helpless moan as you’re juggled between the four, cruel men. “Now, she’ll do the same for all of you, too.”

Geto smirks at this, and releases one of your wrists to wrap his fist around your neck instead, marveling at the way you immediately beg him not to, and leans in close to your ear, “Hear that, rapetoy?” his breath is heavy and hot against the shell of your ear, but you don’t have the strength to shy away from him, nor could you with Choso’s thumb and forefinger hollowing your cheeks. “You’re nothing more than a set of holes for us to fuck when we want. One at a time or all at once, you’re going to do whatever we want you to and you’re going to thank us for the opportunity to serve us, so long as you want to keep breathing.” nuzzling into your hair, he presses a kiss to your lobe that you swore oozed acid, “Let’s see just how long it takes to destroy you completely.”

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Beach Bod Swap

"Tyler, hurry up you lameass!"

I quickly ran through the crowded beach to the shallow water where my fraternity brothers were about to take a group picture. I've always hated them but I really can't leave because it'd ruin my reputation. Once you're pledged to a fraternity, you can’t just easily leave and with the way my brothers are, they’d get revenge if I tried. So I'm stuck with a bunch of assholes. I don't even know why I joined in the first place, I should've known I wouldn't fit in.

"Hurry up and take the pic so we can get on with our lives!" One of the brothers yelled.

"All right, all right."

They set up a tripod, one guy placed a phone on it, we all got into position, but a second before it snapped, the guy on my right shoved me into the water.

"Hey!" Upon seeing the photo, everyone laughed their asses off at me flying through the air.

"Ha! We're keeping this one!"

We went to the beach to have some fun but all I felt was misery. While it's true the frat did encourage me to better myself physically, giving me a diet plan and exercise program in order to look my best, it was all for their reputation, not for me. All I have for myself is a pretty sick bod with abs. It's one of the only things I'm proud of.

I walked over to my beach towel, intending to relax the rest of the trip when a fat old guy approached me as I sat down.

"I saw that you know."

"Saw what?" I looked up at him but could barely see his face past the enormous belly and man tits.

"The way they treated you. Sounds like a bunch of assholes."

"Yeah well I'm stuck with them so..." I thought he would walk away after that but instead he stood for a minute.

"I may have something that will help you, if you want?”

“Whatever.”

“Then here lay down." He pointed at my towel. I had no idea what he was talking about but I laid down on my towel, only because I was going to do that in the first place. Maybe he'll go away now. I closed my eyes and started to relax. After a minute I decided he was gone...until I felt someone put their hands on mine.

I got up suddenly, ready to throw punches at this pot-bellied weirdo, who was probably about to violate me, when I realized something was off. I...couldn't. It felt like there was a heavy weight on my chest preventing me from getting up. The man was nowhere to be seen so I looked at my chest to see what was weighing me down, my eyes widening at the sight.

There was no weight on it, I AM the weight! My abs were completely gone and had been replaced with a flabby mass. I could see my nipples rolled to the side facing outward, since they were now attached to a saggy pair of man tits. They were kinda big too, and stuck out way further than my old ones ever did. Without hesitation, I went and touched them. It was wild. I didn't expect my nipples to be so sensitive since they were so far out from the rest of my body, but the sensation was like a surge that went straight to my dick...oh shit my dick! I couldn't even see my own swimsuit anymore! This chubby gut is completely blocking me from seeing my own dick! I tried sitting back up, but couldn't.

I ended up rolling over, feeling the gravity force me onto my stomach, only it didn't feel like I was on my stomach. It felt like I was laying on a marshmallow, while still being able to feel the sand on my torso. I groggily got up on all fours and managed to get onto my feet.

I stood there, still feeling weird. Suddenly, I felt a rush of humiliation and awkwardness. Everyone else looked so thin and full of energy, and I'm just that fat guy on the beach. The kind of guy I was always kinda silently judging. How did this happen though? And where did that old man go? I-oh god. It can’t be?

I rushed to the nearby restroom, feeling my belly and tits flopping around all over, a pretty disgusting sight that felt unsettling. I walked over to the mirror and found my horrors had come true. I AM the fat old guy! I leaned in closer and touched my face all over. I pinched my double chin, wiggling it back and forth. I ran my fingers through my colorless hair and found that most of it was in patches, as the bald spots almost took over completely. I opened my mouth to find all yellowing teeth, with shiny aluminum crowns replacing a few of them. I looked down at my body once again, now being able to see it in the mirror, and played with my tits as I watched them wobble and sag. I did the same with my belly, feeling the jiggle as I shook it up and down.

I can't believe this is actually happening. Is this that guy's way of helping me? Turning me into a different person to escape my fraternity brothers? I may not have liked my life but I did like my body! Suddenly I felt a vibration from my pocket. I reached in to find my own phone...not this old man's. An unknown number was calling me.

"Hello?"

"Hey man!" The voice sounded awfully familiar.

"Who are you?"

"It's me! You! Well, you now! This was my way of helping you!"

Oh god, he not only transformed me, he swapped our bodies entirely! That voice is my voice! He's trying to copy my way of speaking but it sounds all wrong.

"How is this helping me at all? I was a young fit college student. You turned me into a fat old man!"

"You didn't like your fraternity brothers did you? I swapped our bodies so you can escape. Shame that I had to be so ugly though...that hurts."

"Hey, look I'm sorry! But swap me back!"

"Sorry, no can do...at least not right now. I think I can do a much better job at standing up for myself than you ever could. How many more years of college do you have? Two? See you in two years then! Oh, and I'm sure you've noticed already but those nipples are extremely sensitive. I've been pumping them for awhile in order to get a more sensual experience. Maybe you can continue that!" He immediately hung up after he finished his sentence.

I'm sure my frat brothers are still on the beach, but if I try to return to them looking like this, they won't believe it's me! Maybe that guy's right. 2 years doesn't sound so bad actually. I won't have to deal with them anymore and if what he said was true, he could give me a much more assertive reputation for after I graduate!

"I guess that's a deal then." I said, absentmindedly rubbing one of my nipples. God that does feel good though. I headed into the stall and starting jerking. I couldn't see my dick and it was a little hard to reach anyway, but rubbing just one nipple was enough to give me all the pleasure I needed to reach max stiffness. The nipples were so sensitive that I actually stopped jerking entirely to rub both of them with my hands, feeling my man tits jiggle with every rub. I didn't stop getting hard even for a second and was able to cum without my hand even touching my dick! I was never able to reach a nipple orgasm with my old body! I could get used to this...

[jasmines-library]

Can you do a Winchester brothers (mostly Dean) x sister reader where she is captured but they tie her to an anchor and drown her and the boys have to save her and bring her back to life

Sounds of Someday

WHUMPTOBER DAY 24: Prompt: “I thought they were with you?”

Fandom: Supernatural.

Summary: the request pretty much says it all. When you and your brothers split up during an unusual hunt, you get caught and become part of a witch’s ritual, which ends with your life slipping away and your brothers struggling to reach you as you are dragged away.

Warnings: Drowning, blood, capturing, character death.

Word count: 2.3k

Note: thank you so much for requesting anon! This was really fun to write. I hope you don’t mind that I included it in my whumptober series, I thought it fit interestingly with todays prompt!

MAST ERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

You and your brothers weren’t sure what you were hunting. There was no pattern- nothing set in stone to follow and every time you thought you had latched onto something in the lore, it would change unpredictably to something that contradicted what you’d just believed. At first, you thought it was a vampire. It had appeared out of nowhere, slinking in from the darkness. But then people started to go missing and the bodies were being discovered in strange ways: with nasty scratches, dark bruises or completely torn to shreds. Then, Sam led you on to believe it a spirit, looking to extract some sort of revenge. But you weren’t sure. Nothing was linear and it was making your head spin just thinking about it.

The town you were hunting in was quaint residence in the centre of Minnesota. It was surrounded by woodland and was fairly isolated from the rest of the world around it, making it the perfect stomping ground. It honestly surprised you that this place hadn’t cropped up before.

Your feet had begun to ache as you trudged slowly through the pine needles behind your brothers. You had a backpack slung over your shoulder which rattled as you hauled it higher up on your back. You had been walking for ages, training behind your older brothers who, given the fact they were much taller than you had managed to move at a much faster pace, having to take less steps due to their long strides. Sam had insisted that you stake out the woods in chance of finding something hidden nearby, but the area was vast and the three of you were yet to find anything in the hours of walking behind you. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon too, making it increasingly hard to gage your surroundings and keep your bearings.

“We should split up.” Sam said suddenly as you came to a fork in the path. It broke the silence that had gradually settled over you once you had run out of things to talk about.

Dean furrowed his brow. “What? Are you stupid, Sam?”

The tallest Winchester sighed deeply and slowed his pace to a stop. “We’re not going to find anything if we all huddle together. It’s getting dark and our best shot at finding something is if we split up.”

“That’s exactly my point, Sam. It’s getting dark and we don’t know what’s out there. Besides, there’s no way y/n is going out there on her own-“

“Y/n is old enough to go back to the motel alone-“

You scoffed, cutting him off with a stern look. “Do I get a say in this?”

“Y/n-“

“Dean.”

“You know we don’t like it when you go off alone-“

“I’m not a child, Dean. I can take care of myself.”

Your eldest brother let out a relenting sigh after shared an unspoken glance with Sam. The two of them had a habit of doing that. “Fine. But if you’re not back here within the hour then you’re in deep shit.”

You grinned, turning to head down the middle path.

“And y/n-“ Dean called out to you. You glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Keep your phone on.”

You nodded and made your way down the trail. Dean didn’t move for a while. Something nagged at him, so he stood as you wandered off into the trees, watching you with careful eyes. Little did he know that he wasn’t the only one watching you.

~

You had been walking for sometime. Too long. The woods had thickened and the darkness made it impossibly hard to tell the path ahead from the path you’d just taken. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were lost. And to make matters worse you hadn’t even found anything useful. You had considered messaging Dean for help; but that would involve admitting that you were wrong and you knew that if you did that you wouldn’t hear the end of it. You were reluctant, but when you reached into your pocket to pull out the device, you found that it was missing. You then considered turning back, you knew something was wrong and it was nearing an hour since you had left and were due to rendezvous with your brothers, so you would be able to reach them without worrying them…but that was when it caught your eye.

Dangling limply from a brunch, a piece of blood-splattered cloth hung. It was fresh, still dripping blood onto the muddy ground below it. It looked as though it had snagged on a branch. You reached out to collect it in between your fingers, turning it over slowly as your examined it. When you went to pocket it, there was a loud snap of a branch to your left.

Almost mechanically you had dropped the cloth and replaced it with the cool hilt of your pistol. You were on high alert, searching for the source of the sound. Then came other to your right. And then behind you.

You were surrounded.

You didn’t know where to direct your attention, whipping around to find your best course of action. But whoever or whatever was tailing you was smart and clearly outnumbered you.

Someone tackled you from the side, forcing you to the ground with a sickening thud. You screamed, startled. Delivering an upwards kick, you tried to throw the woman off of you, but her grip was firm as she rolled on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head and straddling your waist. There was another pair of hands working a rope around your feet and other around your hands. You tried to squirm, kick and scream, but a harsh slap left you disorientated as a gag was forced around your mouth.

~

Sam came to a halt at the rendezvous point. He was a few minutes late and was met with an antsy looking Dean, who was pacing and constantly glancing at the time displayed on his phone screen. Sam could see the gun he had loosely planted in his jean pocket.

Dean turned at the sound of footsteps approaching, but he was in no way revived. In fact the sight made his chest constrict. Sam was alone.

“Where is she?” Dean demanded, crossing the space between him and his younger brother in two large strides.

Sam furrowed his brow. “I thought she was with you?”

“No.” Dean fumbled in his pocket to bring up your contact number. “She texted me. She said she had found you and that she was gonna…”

Dean trailed off when Sam flashed up his screen to reveal an identical message. They had been played.

“Son of a bitch.”

“You think she did this?” Sam asked. It wasn’t something entirely out of character for you. You would often trick your brothers into getting what you wanted, or simply just for some peace and quiet.

“I-“

All ideas were cut short at the sound of a shrill scream, that caused both brother’s hearts to falter. Your scream. They would recognise your voice in a crowd of a thousand. Neither of them wasted any time as they darted towards the sound.

~

You had managed to make out three of them as they began to drag you through the woods over bumps. The pine needles gathered in your hair and clung to your clothes to poke at your skin. You knew that your brothers would realise quickly that something was wrong. It was hardwired into them. But one of them was doing something with your phone which you could only assume she had managed to snatch from your pocket somewhere along your trek.

You could only watch as they dragged you into a clearing. You were grateful when the upturned roots morphed into grass. The lake glistened under the moonlight and the start sky. It was the type of serene scene that you and your brothers would pull up at and sit on the roof of the Impala just to revel in the quiet. The thought only made the situation seem even sicker. When the women hauled you onto a dock, you sensed two more people lingering nearby. One of them held a weighted book and the other a set of chains fastened to what looked like some sort of anchor.

Your eyes flew open when the realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. They were witches. And you were part of their spell. You tried to dig the heels of your boots into the wooden slats and scrabble away, but one of them landed a kick to your stomach and dragged you closer again, hauling you up onto your feet and holding you tightly in their grasp.

One raised your hand, biting into it with a silver dagger and then squeezing it into a chalice. You’re screamed and bit into the gag. Then they began to chant. Old, foreign words that rang throughout your ears. But nothing stayed. Your mind was too hazy as your blood dribbled out of the wound. After the final word had been spoken, one of the male witches snatched you away and pushed you towards the edge of the dock. The water was dark and endless below you and you tried to teeter away from the edge but you were in a vulnerable position and with one wicked smirk and another chorus of chanting, you were sent tumbling over the edge and into the water. But not before you hear the faintest whisper of your name carried across in the wind.

~

There’s something irresistably poetic about drowning. You weren’t sure if it was the way that time slows to nothing the moment your body it’s the icy water, or the way that it was so quiet under the surface, but there was something about it.

Well, that was until you watched the bubbles escape from your mouth and your nose, rising up to the surface and the dissipating. You tried to kick the binds way, flailing to gain some traction on the water and pull yourself up the the surface so that you could take a desperate gasp of air, but the binds rendered you powerless as the anchor dragged you down down down into inky nothingness. Your lungs burned as you struggled to retain what precious air you had left in your lungs, jerking and twisting to try and get free, but the struggling left you tired and soon the last of the air rose from your mouth. The water assaulted your eyes too, blurring your vision even through there wasn’t much to see besides the white light of the moon above.

Somewhere above your there was a loud splash as Dean delved deep into the water, scrambling after you. He had watched in horror as your body pummelled off the side. He didn’t think he could urge is legs to go any faster as he ran next to Sam who helped him make quick work of taking down the witches. Once the odds had been evened Dean took the plunge after you.

His body nearly went into shock against the stabbing of the cold, but he paid no mind to it as he watched your body sink at an alarming rate. Your hair drifted around you like a halo as he urged his body forwards to catch up with you.

Somehow he managed to wrap a calloused hand around yours. He pulled you to his chest, palling at your stillness, and fumbled to release you from the anchor. Once the heavy weight was gone, he gave one hard kick after pushing your body so that it could drift to the surface, following closely behind and ignoring the burn in his chest.

When his head broke the surface the took a huge, spluttering gulp of air, sucking it in greedily. But you didn’t move. You didn’t squirm to keep yourself afloat, your chest rise and fall, you didn’t even blink.

Dean was then paddling his way over you you, lifting your body so that Sam, who was clinging to the edge of the dock with an outstretched hand could pull you into land.

“Come on!” He urged, gripping you under the armpits and pulling you back onto try land. Dean was inches behind, silently praying that you would be okay. But your heart had stopped.

“No. No no no.” Dean cried at your stillness. “Come on y/n. You don’t get to do this to us.”

He hovered over you, locking his hands in place to begin CPR.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He pleaded, breathing into your mouth. He could feel the resistance in your lungs. His chest tightened further.

“Dean-“ Sam’s voice wavered as he laid a hand on his shoulders.

“No. Shut up Sammy.” He shook his head and blinked away the tears and he pressed harder against your chest, winching at the sound of them splintering beneath the force of his compressions. “She’s fine. She’s fine.”

“Dean…”

You sat up abruptly, heaving a wet cough as you keeled over expelled the water from your lungs. Dean patted your back to help. Everything hurt, your head, your joints, your lungs.

“That’s it, kid. Let it all out.”

“They… they-“ you tried to speak, but your voice was horse and scared so it came out more like a whimper. You took in deep breaths.

Dean cradled you to his chest, rocking you back and fourth in his arms as you sobbed, shivering from the cold and the shock.

“You’re okay, kid.” Sam tried to reassure you.

“We’re here y/n. We will always protect you, no matter what. And as long as you are here, we will always keep you safe. I promise.”

<- DAY 23 ⛤ DAY 25 ->

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Taglist:

@deans-spinster-witch

@senjoritanana

@amaryllis23

[animasola86]

Kinktober: Pleasant dreams... and tentacles

Notes: I, uh, so I wrote this. I'm sorry? You can skip the tentacle part (it's in italics for better viewing) if you like, I don't quite know from what depths I pulled that one. I mean, uh, tentacle porn, right? Sounds fun, until you have to describe it... I hope you still enjoy the other parts. (And please tell me I am not the only one who thought about this when first encountering Devil's Snare.)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!mc

Genre: Smut. Darkest smut. // Words: 3.2k // [READ ON AO3]

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Somnophilia! Tentacles! Non-con?

Synopsis: Sebastian finds himself unable to fall asleep, so he uses the sleeping form of his girlfriend to get some stimulated shut-eye, unaware of the dark dream she finds herself trapped in that slowly bleeds together with what he is doing to her.

Last warning: There's smut and filth below the cut!

Pleasant dreams... and tentacles

Sebastian was lying awake, as is often the case. Sleep didn't come easy for him, and he knew if he would count the reasons for that like he would count sheep, he still wouldn't be able to fall into pleasant unconsciousness. Rolling onto his side with a sigh, one arm tightly wrapped around her sleeping form, he inhaled deeply and tried to relive the moments just before.

Of course she could sleep. He had made sure to exhaust her just enough so at least one of them could slumber away peacefully. And how content she looked, with her hair falling into her eyes, her chest rising and falling slowly as she breathed deeply, her swollen lips parted slightly. He snuggled against her, pressing his chest into her back as he pulled her closer to him.

They hadn't bothered putting on clothes after their exhaustive endeavour, as is also often the case. Having this bed in a hidden corner of the Room of Requirement certainly had its perks. It was just them, no threat of nosy roommates, no need to get dressed in a hurry. And hearing her soft breaths was definitely more relaxing than the strong snores of the boys he had to share a dorm with – yet he still had trouble falling sleep. Groaning quietly as he buried his face into her hair, he shifted behind her, his hips moving against her almost unconsciously.

He was so used to pressing his body against hers whenever he had the chance, no matter where they were, be it in public or in empty classrooms or somewhere in the wilderness of the Highlands. It was as if she was made to fit perfectly against him, and he was made to fit perfectly inside her. The thought alone made him grind his hips harder against her rear, his hardening cock moving into the gap between her thighs as if it belonged there and nowhere else, as if it knew where it belonged.

His own breathing picked up a little when the constant friction made his body shudder slightly, yet it was when he heard the noises she issued that his heart started pounding. She was whimpering. He halted his movements and listened, suddenly a little anxious that he might have disturbed her beautiful slumber. But she kept making these sounds, the same whimpers she made whenever he would give his all to bring her the best pleasure imaginable.

He leaned up on his elbow to look at her, but she was still fast sleep, her eyes closed, her eyelids fluttering and her lips parted – trembling slightly whenever another whimper or moan escaped them. Was she dreaming? Licking his lips, he watched her for a long moment, before he slipped his cock out from between her legs and grabbed it tightly, gently stroking it while he took in every single noise she made.

But it wasn't enough. He let go of his arousal and moved his hand over her stomach and right down between her slightly shivering thighs, pushing them apart just enough for his hand to reach her warmth – and how warm she was down there, warm and wet. His fingertips slipped right through her folds, her slick coating his fingers. As she moaned a little louder, he leaned closer, pressing his groin against her rear before he moved his fingers deeper, teasing at her entrance.

His eyes remained on her face, his heart beating faster. She could wake up any second, finding him pleasuring her, and even though she was usually open to anything he would suggest to her, he wasn't too sure she would appreciate it if he was working on her without her knowing about it, without her actually being able to enjoy it. Though from the noises she made, she was definitely enjoying something, be it his fingers rubbing her slit, or the dream that held her captive.

She wouldn't be this wet if she wouldn't enjoy it, right? With that logic in mind, he continued wiping his fingers over her beautiful cunt. He couldn't see it from this angle, but he felt it all the same, remembering how it had glistened the last time he had buried his face in her folds, and he kept stroking her, pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves on top, slipping through her lips, caressing them inside and out, prodding at her tight entrance. His breaths became slightly more laboured as he finally pushed a finger into her warmth, her walls tight and soft around him as he started exploring her more deeply.

She kept whimpering softly, the occasional louder moan slipping from her lips – and he still wasn't sure if he coaxed those sounds out of her. He pressed his mouth to her shoulder and lingered there as he worked his arm against her, his hips starting to grind into her once more. From this angle he couldn't push his finger as deep as he wanted to, but he nonetheless tried, curling it inside her, pushing and pressing against that soft, squishy flesh that clenched around him lazily.

It didn't take long for him to add another finger, and he started spreading them inside her, stretching her entrance, letting her wetness seep out onto his hand. A low moan escaped him this time, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he pushed his cock firmer against her, right between her tightly clenched thighs until the tip brushed against his fingers. He pulled his digits out and guided himself closer, angling his hips to be able to push into her.

Before he did, however, he inhaled deeply and opened his eyes, watching her closely. The whimpers were a constant sound from her now, and her body was shivering as tremors of unknown origin shook her. Whatever was she dreaming? It couldn't just be the reactions to what he did to her, could it? In the end it didn't matter to him, he even used her body's spasms to slip his firm erection between her wet folds as he entered her with ease. She was certainly ready for him.

A louder moan slipped from her mouth as he pushed in as deeply as possible, his hand holding onto her waist while he guided his hips against her carefully. He was both aroused and so on edge he was afraid his heart would give out any second. He didn't want her to catch him like this – and at the same time, he wanted it, wanted to see her sleepy eyes trying to focus, staring at him, maybe in indignation or disgust, maybe in surprise and pleasure, both would be fine with him.

Swallowing hard, he started moving his hips against her, pulling out slightly only to push back in, never with force, just a lazy motion, rubbing her insides, feeling her tight warmth enveloping him, sucking him in invitingly, a pleasant feeling that he hoped would tire him out quickly, so it could be his turn to sleep finally. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head on her shoulder and wrapped his arm tightly around her, while his pelvis moved against her rear in slow deliberate thrusts.

‎

Unaware of what was happening with and around her, she found herself trapped in a dark room, the sounds of squelching wet things slithering all around her. She felt her heart accelerating as she traversed through absolute darkness, her shoes stepping over something squishy that seemed to hiss at her every time she made contact.

With a soundless scream falling from her lips, she suddenly felt something grabbing her ankle, and she fell, stumbling and tumbling forwards until she ended up on her hands and knees. She quickly tried to get back up, but something was holding her down as more things wrapped around her wrists and ankles, squeezing tightly, trapping her like ropes.

She kicked and screamed again, even though no sound was coming out of her throat, squirming and writhing in unison with the flexible forces that snaked around her limbs. She didn't have the mind to question what it was, she didn't care, she just wanted to get away. A whimper escaped her, and she heard it, echoing loudly through the darkness.

Whatever was holding her to the ground was suddenly lifting her up, and she felt her body rising, grabbed by unseen arms that were no arms. Snakes? Vines? Tendrils? Tentacles? Images of weird plants and squids and various serpents flooded her mind as she was pulled upwards, her head spinning from the sudden change of elevation.

The darkness shifted then, allowing her to see shadows creeping around her and a giant moving mass of slimy, black appendages – for lack of a better word. The noises that came from this entity caused her to shiver deeply, its wet squelching sounds filling her ears, even more so when whatever this was wrapped more and more of its tendrils around her arms and legs, almost pulling her apart as it rose her higher and higher until she found herself pressed against a wall of more of those moving things.

A thicker tentacle slithered over her stomach and wound itself around her, once, twice, three times, holding and squeezing her tightly while the others loosened around her wrists and ankles. Yet there was no moment of relief as they then started slipping into the cracks of her clothes, down her sleeves and past her neckline, circling her breasts, up her stockings all the way under her skirt. She watched in nothing but sheer horror how the tendrils ripped her garments one by one, with a strength she didn't expect of something so slimy and floppy.

She gasped in shock when she felt something moving beneath the hem of her underwear, its cold, wet skin leaving a trail of wetness on hers as it wound itself around the fabric – before it ripped her garment right off, leaving her completely exposed to this monster – whatever it was. She squirmed and whimpered against its hold, trying to grab at the tendrils, forcing them away, but they were too strong and it was quickly annoyed by her attempts to free herself.

More and more slithered closer, and while some wrapped around her arms and legs, slowly pulling her closer into the wall of moving mass behind her, others teased her with their pointy tips, lapping at her skin like tongues, slithering up and down her body, prodding at every orifice they could find. With her legs held apart firmly, she struggled and thrashed about, but in the end she couldn't do anything when a rather thick tentacle moved up her thigh, pressing against her soft skin, and pushed exploratively between her folds.

She wanted to scream, but no sound came out, only more whimpers, desperate little whimpers, so she just squeezed her eyes shut, trying to distance herself from whatever was happening to her. The squelching noises grew louder and louder around her, and the thing seemed to hum softly as it engulfed her more and more, slowly pulling her into its body of moving appendages, as if it wanted to consume her fully.

Before it did, however, it seemed to want to have a taste – and she felt it prodding at her entrance, its flexible form seemingly unable to fully penetrate her as it moved up and down her slit, her own slick mixing with its slimy texture. She shivered and squirmed more, her hips trying to buck away from the intruder, but to no avail. She felt it hardening against her, an almost familiar feeling, and if she ignored all the squelching and the cold texture of it, it reminded her of a cock – and with that image in mind, she braced herself, her body shuddering deeply.

When it pushed into her, she moaned loudly. She felt it slipping in, deeper and deeper, invading her tight channel, not forceful but determined, until it prodded right against her cervix. She wailed at the sensation, trying to struggle against it, but her limbs were wrapped tightly by other tendrils, covering her arms and legs like thick black snakes coiled around her. She wriggled her fingers and her toes, and when she tried to look around more, trying to find a way out, she felt another tentacle slowly wrapping around her neck, keeping her head in place as well.

A silent cry escaped her, and even the whimpers still slipping from her throat were quickly silenced as the tip of the tendril slithered back around her neck and upwards, pushing against her lips before forcefully invading her mouth, its slimy texture and the sheer size of it causing her to gag around it, but it wouldn't let her go. She felt tears in her eyes, her heart pounding inside her chest, her breath caught in her throat.

She was trapped, utterly helpless and exposed, prey to an unknown predator that kept exploring her body with a natural curiosity. Somehow she gave in, unable to move against it or free herself, she just surrendered, yet when it started to move within her, pushing and prodding and seemingly expanding inside her, she whimpered past the tendril in her mouth. The more it moved against her, the squelching noise so loud it filled the entire room, the more her body reacted to it.

And she couldn't help it, it aroused her. She felt the familiar tremors, the shaking of her limbs (despite its constraints), the rumble inside her stomach, the tension clawing at every muscle. She would have moaned if she would have been able to, even the thick firm thing pressing on her tongue and slipping in and out of her mouth and pushing harder and harder against the back of her throat added to the sensation that flooded her immobile form.

She felt tears and saliva streaming down her chin as her wetness poured from her with that cock-like tendril thrusting faster and harder into her tight depths, her walls clenching around it, confused by the intrusion, but nevertheless pleased by its movements. Her muffled whimpers mixed with the wet sounds as it picked up speed, almost ramming into her like a soft spear over and over again, pushing deeper and deeper, filling her up like she had never been filled up before.

It was almost as if she could feel it moving beneath her skin, prodding her stomach from the inside, and as she couldn't see it, she could only imagine it denting her as if it wanted to push right through and out of her. Luckily it didn't, it only kept moving within the possibilities of her anatomy, though it came dangerously close to her womb, prodding it curiously every time it pushed back in all the way.

Despite her tight constraints that slowly but surely stopped the blood flow in her limbs, causing them to tingle and itch horribly, she squirmed and writhed and whimpered, her entire body spasming from the experience. Her muscles contracted, that familiar feeling of weightlessness flooded her, and for a moment she forgot where she was, what was happening to her, exactly how many tentacles were pushing into her orifices. All she felt was pleasure.

And with it came a bright light, completely engulfing her, and as she floated on her high, she didn't hear the screeching of the devilish plant, she didn't feel how it loosened its grip on her, how it slipped out of her mouth and cunt, and retreated back into the damp darkness it had come from.

Her body, however, gave her the illusion of falling as it was freed from its hold, and with a soft gasp, she opened her eyes and found herself lying on a comfortable bed, embraced by a warm familiar body.

‎

Sebastian had hoped to fall asleep with his cock buried deep within her warmth as he lazily pushed his hips against her sleeping form, but with many things in life, he couldn't just not finish what he had started. He couldn't just stop. And so he didn't.

Keeping his steady rhythm, he snaked one hand up her front, gently grazing her breasts, teasing the hard nipples, until his fingers slipped upwards and closed around her throat, not applying any pressure, just holding her in place as he rammed his length all the way into her, the quick slapping of skin against skin filling his ears. She whimpered and moaned, but her eyes remained closed as he watched her, chewing on his lips to keep his own noises down.

She was still held captive by her dream, and he couldn't help himself, he had to push further, not necessarily into her, he couldn't really do that at this angle, but he could push her further, pushing his luck at the same time, as he moved his hand over her chin and slipped two fingers into her mouth, gently pressing against her tongue at first, then pushing them deeper until he hit the back of her throat.

He felt her convulsing against him, her body twitching slightly, her throat gagging around his fingertips. His own body shuddered from the reaction, the tension within building and building. He kept his fingers in her mouth, not as deep, but deep enough to feel her saliva pooling around his digits and her lips straining against them, while he kept the slamming of his pelvis against her arse at a formidable speed – and he was really wondering why she wouldn't wake under his bold and rapid movements.

His breath hitched in his throat, and he felt himself tensing up more and more. With his eyes still on her face, he pushed his mouth to her shoulder, muffling the groans threatening to spill out. His other arm slipped beneath her and snaked around her stomach, pulling her closer against his front as he pushed into her hard and fast, holding onto her tightly as he felt his release approaching.

His hips stuttered, and he grunted into her shoulder as he gave her one final deep thrust before he felt his cock twitching violently within her as his cum pumped out of him with a force that shook both of their bodies. He closed his eyes and pulled his fingers from her mouth. Despite the fierce shuddering and the tremors overpowering his body, he felt the need to wipe the saliva from her chin and gently caress her cheek before he lowered his hand and let it rest on her stomach.

He relaxed behind her then, his length still lodged in her warmth, painting her clenching walls with his seed, as he kept his hips pressed to her rear, his body moulding around hers as he pulled her into an even tighter embrace, his shuddering breaths easing slowly as he inhaled deeply. And finally, finally, exhaustion washed over him.

‎

When she would eventually open her eyes with a soft gasp, he was already fast asleep. She could feel him pressed against and inside her, his warmth keeping the images away that haunted her long after her disturbing dream. Seeing him so close and knowing what he had done, she couldn't help but smile, suddenly making a little bit more sense of her oneiric activities. Putting her hands on his arms wrapped around her stomach, she leaned her back against him and inhaled deeply, trying to fall back asleep, hoping not to end up in a dark room full of tentacles again.

Then again...

End notes: Another @kinktober2023 submission, my first one was about Breeding Kink (and much more wholesome than this filth!). I still enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed it too! Thank you for your time!

Oh and I might not have used "oneiric" correctly, please remember I am not a native English speaker!

[ masterlist ] [ ao3 ]

Other Kinktober submissions:

It is that time again (breeding kink)

A scholar and a pervert (overstimulation, sex toys)

The horny ghost (voyeurism, masturbation, spectrophilia)

It belongs to me (deepthroating, semi-public)

A Filthy Fantasy (1/2) (cnc, bondage, sensory deprivation, orgasm denial)

A Filthy Fantasy (2/2) (threesome, oral/vaginal/anal)