#Makeup with a conscience

[candylandphotos]

Young beauty model natural organic makeup skincare

"Embracing Youthful Beauty: Enhancing with Natural, Organic Makeup and Skincare ✨🌿"

[bratsygirlsworld]

Moral Conscience - Kali Uchis

[pearlsdiamondsandvodka]

I really like the mighty nein makeup palette, and the thing is, yes it’s expensive, but I could treat myself and see it as birthday gift for myself. 86$ is a lot, but I do have the money BUT then you account for shipping which for me is 58(!!!)$ and then I end up on a total of 144$ and that’s a lot of money…

[jkslipppiercing]

Horny For My Bestie | Jeon JK | Oneshot

☆ Synopsis: Your best friend, jungkook, is dared to take a Viagra pill at a party. He's horny for his bestie...in this case, you.

☆ Genre: Smut, angst, EXPLICIT CONTENT!!, JK'S POV

☆ Pairing: Bsf!oc, horny!jk.

☆ Warnings: honestly just a loooot of smut, Jungkook is horny out of his damn mind, horny thoughts, angst, dirty talk, oc cries during sex, oral (f receiving), spanking, a lot of kissing (duh), penetrative sex, unsafe sex (be safe out there x), he cums inside her, bitch idk what else just read it and find out 😜 oh yeah dry humping, animalistic fucking, shit like that

☆ WC: 8.5K

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a/n: AHHHHHH it's finally here!! this is my longest fic yet so.i hope you enjoy it. im so so so excited everyone support and show love!! i love you all ♡

-UNEDITED

Her lips move, but i'm not listening.

She looks at me expectantly, like though she's waiting for a response.

Had she just spoken to me right now?

Because, not to be one of rude mannerisms, I couldn’t give a shit if I wanted to.

My body's on fire. Heat pulses through ny veins and my cock visibly throbs, and her bare thigh peeking out from the slit of her tiny dress isnt helping.

it's a given rule, not to be sexually drawn to your best friend.

I shouldn't see her this way.

I shouldn’t picture her lips sloppily sucking around me just because theyre swollen and inviting. Red and fucking attracting the hell out of my attention.

I shouldn’t picture her under me.

Above me.

On me.

Fucking hell.

Im aware of the sweat trickling down my temple.

Im highly aware of how uncomfortable I’d make her feel if I tried to adjust my seating position.

The raging hard-on would be hard to conceal if I tried to move a sliver of an inch.

Fuck, im horny.

Horny for her.

Thanks to fucking Viagra falls and Kim Fucking Taehyung.

Damn him.

the party music’s bass still rings in my ears, a reminder of how loud and chaotic taehyung’s parties always are. It breaches the peaceful silence one would usually experience sitting in a car half past midnight.

I’d picked my best friend up earlier this evening so we could go there together.

It was a weekly taehyung frat party. The usual.

The dress she chose to wear hugs her curves nicely, her makeup simple, but complimenting her features. High heels adorn her feet and that fucking dress adorns my conscience.

The tiny slit.

Tiny, tiny, little, slit.

She shifts her feet, and the dress hikes up higher.

The viagra I'd been dared to take just a little over half an hour ago had taken effect pretty harshly on my body.

My poor, poor body.

Stray strands of my hair are sticking to my forehead, my cock is growing harder by the second, and my heartbeat is beating faster than I could fucking breathe.

I cant even breathe properly.

And the damn sex appeal goddess sitting across from me in my car’s passenger seat is not making it any easier.

We’ve been sitting in this car for I don’t know how long, after I'd called out for her and asked her to leave, and drove us both to my apartment.

She didn’t look at me long enough then to notice all the distress literally draping over my body and ambushing it like a blanket, so she just obliged by my request, following me away and to my car.

Should I tell her? About the viagra?

Would it be weird?

Of course it’d be weird, you dumbass.

She’d probably be uncomfortable.

Fuck, since when was she so damn irresistible?

Fuck, just make out with me already.

Fuck, wanna fuck?

FUCK.

I’d love to fuck.

“kook.” she moans.

No she does NOT.

She didn’t moan. She just asked. But I’d love to hear her moan. When I ease into her and start fucking her with slow, languid strokes…I'd fucking love to hear that voice moan for me. For my cock.

Is she the loud type? Would she scream? Whimper? Cry?

My cock twitches, hardening by the second. It’s almost painful at this point, the viagra pumping in my veins and throwing my head in a frenzy.

Fuck, I literally want to fuck the shit outta her.

My eyes snap back to her eyes, cheeks growing red when I notice I’ve been staring at her thighs.

Great.

Now I look like a perverted asshole.

“sorry,” took me too long to respond.

Dammit.

I try to adjust my position, throwing an arm over my crotch to cover the raging hard-on. Casually.

Almost too casually, apparently, because that catches her attention.

She bats her eyelashes once at me, in what seems to me a mix of perplexity and frustration.

Same. Im also frustrated out of my mind.

But apart from that, im disappointed.

Almost angry, even.

I love y/n. as a fucking friend. Not literally. I mean, at the moment, I’d love to fuck her-

Ive said that too many times, havent i?

Anyway, she’s a friend. A really good friend. A best friend.

I always had a deep care towards her, always felt the need to be there for her just as she was for me.

So that proves the point as to why im damn disappointed in myself.

When I took that viagra pill, I hadn’t expected to be so drawn to her. I never saw myself thinking- more accurately, fantasizing- about her this way.

She’s comfortable. Platonic.

I thought it wasn’t a big deal. Thought I'd get myself a one night stand and satiate the horniness I'd feel when I took the damn pill. Call y/n a cab and go back home with a hooker on my dick.

I almost cringe.

But instead of doing just that? I panicked and looked for her. Searched the crowds for her. Called out for her and asked her to come with me.

I thought it was a good idea to take her to my car. Drive her to my apartment. Where I live alone. At half-passed midnight.

My thoughts were driven by her, seeming to believe that I’d calm down if I set my eyes on her.

I was the biggest dumbass.

Here I fucking am, horny out of my mind, for my best friend of all people.

I want her as a friend. No…need. I need her as my friend.

And lord help me, I'm horny for my bestie.

“was distracted.” I clear my throat, scratching at my nape awkwardly.

“why are you blushing?” there's the slightest hint of amusement in her tone, curiosity clouding her soft irises.

“me? Blushing?” I snort. I don’t blush. What a stupid question to ask.

Instead of verbally replying to me, she shifts her eyes rapidly towards the rear view mirror then flicks them back to me, as if telling me to ‘see for myself’.

I do just that, and all earlier amusement is replaced with embarrassment when I realize that, fuck, I am blushing.

Im fucking blushing.

My cock hurts.

Im sweating.

Discomfort swirls in my mind.

Horniness clouds my vision.

She laughs at me expression, which only deepens my frustration.

Only when I remain stoic, does her laugh die down. She looks to be confused once again, probably because she’s not used to me being so serious.

Usually, we’d laugh it off. We make fun of anything and everything, even sometimes each other.

So for her to burst out laughing and me not to join her?

that’s weird for us.

Honestly, she has a right to be confused.

Never once since I had met y/n had I seen her in the light im seeing her in right now.

Naked.

Choked.

Ruined.

Fucked.

My eyes glue to her lips and I can’t seem to tear my gaze away.

I cant help it.

Im not even aware im doing it.

How would they feel? Soft?

Would she kiss slow, soft, and passionate?

Or rough, hard, and hungry?

When I remain silent and tense, she speaks with even more evident amusement.

“if you wanna kiss me, you could just ask…” she trails off into another light laugh.

Okay, she’s trying to lighten up the mood.

Except, my eyes cant help but flutter shut at the image of her lips on my own with her on my lap. Grinding on my lap. Moaning into my mouth. Smiling against my lips.

My cock fucking hurts.

This time, when I pull my eyebrows together and pinch my nose bridge in exasperation, she doesn’t let it slide.

Her brows pull in their own adorable frown as she eyes me weird.

She’s trying to read me, I realize.

She opens her mouth, but I beat her to it.

“don’t say things like that.” Just above a hard whisper. my cock throbs and I have to lean my head against the headrest. I face forward, not wanting to torture my poor dick any longer by looking at her. “not to me, y/n.”

I cant fucking breathe.

My eyes hooded and on the dark, moonlit sidewalk facing the forefront of my apartment, I try to calm my breathing.

In…out…in…out…

Nope.

Not working.

“relax.” She's growing irritated.

Good.

Maybe then she'd leave so I can stop myself from doing something I'd regret.

Except im parked in front of my building in my car.

And it’s way too late for her to go back to her place alone.

I almost scoff at how ridiculous that sounds.

y/n? alone? On the streets? Wearing that?

Fuck no.

I cant relax.

“you went quiet again.” Huh?

I turn my neck to her, head still on the headrest.

She reads the question in my eyes, “you wandered off. Again. You’ve done it multiple times by now.” She mumbles.

Shit.

Well, I cant just tell her Im horny out of my mind for her.

Instead, I say, “just got something on my mind. A little distracted.”

“but you’re never distracted like this, jungkook.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means you're giving me excuses.” She speaks louder now, more clearly. “you chew on your bottom lip when you're distracted. Your eyes grow doe and wide, giving you a ‘deer in the headlights’ type of look. You run your hands through your hair too many times, as well.”

Ignoring the flutter in my chest because ‘damn, she noticed all those things about me?’, I stare at her in question. “so?”

“so, you’re not distracted. Something's obviously wrong and you’re not telling me.” She lets a hint of frustration slip through. “you seem angry. Irritated. Your hand's clenching around the wheel so hard, your knuckles are white.”

I loosen my hold, now realizing I am.

“your eyes arent round and thoughtful. Theyre hard and hooded. You havent ran your hands through your hair once- and you even scratched your neck.”

“look-“

“you’ve been doing that tongue thing with your cheek for the last twenty minutes!”

Throwing her hands around the cramped space of the car in exasperation, her voice raises.

My mouth opens only to close again.

She’s left me speechless, and fuck, I want her even more badly than ever before.

I panic.

It’s between picking her up and taking her up to my bedroom, or finding a way to get her out of here…fast.

“take my keys.” I remove my car key from the ignition, opening her palm and closing it around it. “drive to your apartment.”

She gapes at me.

“I’ll take a taxi to yours and get the car back tomorrow morning. Or you can come pick me up and we'll figure something out. Call if anything happens.”

I grab my jacket from the backseat, discreetly concealing my crotch with it as I hop out of the car.

The cold night's breeze smacks my cheeks harshly, giving me a weird type of relief.

I relish the distraction from my thoughts for as long as possible as I walk to the building without looking back.

If I turn around and find her staring at me, she’ll be sore and begging by tomorrow morning.

Limping to the bathroom to wash my cum off.

I shake my head at my immaturity.

Get a godforsaken grip.

Except when im just about taking the first steps toward the apartment building, I hear my passenger car's door open and close, with the clanking of high heels against asphalt reaching my ears.

y/n halts in front of me when I remain frozen in place, and all I can do is curse under my breath at the absurdity of the situation.

“what you're doing is unfair.” With her head held high, she cranes her neck back to stare at me.

She’s hella irritated.

And frustrated.

Again, bestie, same.

“go home, y/n.” or else I'll do something that we’ll both regret.

“or what?”

Or I’ll ruin our friendship.

But I don’t say that.

“why am I expected to just listen?” her voice hardens with distaste. “you’ve ruined my night.”

“ruined your night?” I can’t help the dry tone that bleeds into the rasp of my voice into the cold night air.

“I met this guy, you know.” She laughs, but it’s humorless. Sad. I use her tone to distract myself, knowing that if I dwelled on what she had just said too much, I was gonna bury that “guy” six feet under by tomorrow. “it was going well. Thought I had a chance with him.” Like hell she did.

A muscle in my jaw ticks.

She averts her gaze to look at the concrete beneath us, only to stare up at me with resignation.

“but then you came. You happened. You grabbed my wrist and told me to come with you. I didn’t ask, and here we are.”

My eyes soften.

“tell me what’s wrong, please.”

“okay.”

Her eyes brim with hope.

“yeah?”

Fuck. Me.

“yeah. Let’s go up first. I cant have you freezing under my watch.”

She nods before a rough shiver racks her body, as if she’d just now realized how cold the night air kissing her cheeks really is.

Considering my still rock-hard cock and painful arousal, I can’t put my jacket on her. I cant give it to her, because then she’d see. Im already burning the hell up and am profusely sweating, which im sure she notices.

She’s been eying me with curiosity for a while now, trying to figure out what actually is wrong with me.

I don’t blame her.

Shivers relentlessly rack her body as her hair blows with the wind.

So I sling an arm over her shoulders and rub her arm with my hand, desperate for some sort of friction to warm her up, leading us both into and up the building to my apartment.

Unlocking the door and pushing it open, y/n walks in quietly behind me.

It’s unnerving.

She hasn’t said a thing.

Yet.

Oh, boy. Here we go.

“Y/n-“

As soon as I turn around, her lips are moving in the softest rhythm imaginable.

She speaks and those bright pink pillows move, and the horny haze blocking my sight highlights her lips’ movements.

My cock pulses when she bites her lip.

What the fuck.

My eyes remain focused on her lips- and yes, im aware of how uncomfortable that must make her feel- even as she sways with a half-step.

She rubs her palms together, and when she looks up at me with innocent eyes and a sheepish smile?

I want to ruin her.

If she lets me…nothing about this night is going to end up “innocent”.

My eyes darken when I realize what she had just said.

“I noticed your boner, like, twenty minutes ago.”

I open my mouth to speak, but I close it right back when I don’t find anything to say.

Im at a loss for words.

Fuck, her lips are so soft. And swollen. And soft.

So fucking soft.

Focus, asshole.

Her lips tip up in an attempt of making me smile along with her, but all she gets in return is a grumpy scowl.

Not gonna lie, if I wasn’t such a horny prick right now? I wouldve laughed with her.

But now, all I could do is scowl in response.

Which makes her almost-smile fall.

I didn’t scowl at her. I scowled at the boner.

But she doesn’t know that, asshole.

Kill me now.

She clears her throat. “I also…um…” well that’s unlike her. “I saw you take that viagra thing. You know…the thing that made you so horny you’re scowling at me.”

Now that makes me snort. Loudly.

She laughs with me.

I almost forget my aching cock at the sight of her smile.

“so what happens now?”

“let me kiss you.”

We both speak at the same time, and my eyes widen in sync with hers.

Her mouth hangs open, and I look away in embarrassment.

Why the fuck is she eying me like that?!

What did she expect?

I’m horny.

She's here.

Doesn’t need a genius to piece it together.

Or maybe im an idiot who shouldn’t have thought about it that way.

But im also an idiot who took a viagra pill for a dare.

Im so horny I'd fuck a wall, for fuck’s sake!

I rake a hand through my hair in frustration…and something that achingly resembles resignation.

My cock hurts, man.

I’m sick of this shit.

“what?” I bite out.

She continues to gape at me.

My eyes droop low and slowly go over her dress.

My patience simmers on high heat as my anger almost boils over.

It’s either she gets the fuck out of my sight or she puts me out of my misery.

She's a goddess I’d be on my knees to worship in a heartbeat.

I can think of a lot of ways I can worship the effort she put into this goddamn dress.

I’m willing to fucking beg.

I am.

“you want to kiss me?”

Well, no shit, Sherlock. Didn’t she hear me zay exactly that?

“yes, y/n, I want to kiss you.” I snap impatiently.

Maybe if I wasn't in physical pain I wouldn't be such a prick.

When her eyes gloss over and she avoids eye-contact, there’s this prickly feeling that something’s on her mind.

“what is it?” I ask, making sure to soften my tone.

She shakes her head.

Fuck no.

I step closer to her, forgetting about my cock for the sake of communication, and swipe the hair barricading the frame of her face to tuck behind her ear.

Her neck remains craned down in an awkward situation, and im incredibly aware of how clear of an image she has of my boner.

She doesn't make fun of it, though.

She just stares at it, which kind of makes me uncomfortable.

So to get her to stare at my eyes, instead, I hook my index finger under her chin and lift her face up.

Her eyebrows pinch in a confused frown and her lips push forward in an adorable question.

I stroke her chin with my thumb.

What? It just feels right.

“ask.”

“what?”

“I know you want to ask me something. You always go quiet when you do.”

She tries to avoid my gaze again, but I pinch her chin firmly, keeping her right where I want her to be.

She looks up at me, and fuck.

Those eyes.

“I know im being kind of an asshole.” She hums and I chuckle. “but don’t let that get to your head. Im also your best friend.”

She smiles.

“your very horny best friend.”

She breathes out a soft laugh.

“so, as your best friend, please tell me what is it?” I reason with her. she's always been this stubborn. Wont ever tell me what’s on her mind unless I pry. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

It’s like I can feel her resolve melt right in front of my eyes.

My pretty little y/n. all she needs is pretty words and empty promises to give in.

The reminder of the guy she met tonight sneaks back into my conscience, along with the tiny slit of the dress she was wearing.

High heels and high ponytails.

Sex, money, feelings.

I cant help but physically weaken at the thought of someone else touching her like this.

Their hand on her chin tilting her face up. The way she simply obliges by the movement and shows no intention of rebellion against it.

Fuck…what if she had refused to come with me tonight?

Would she have fucked him?

Should I even care?

“do you want to fuck me because im the only available option?”

The words are out of her mouth one second, and by the next, my lips are on hers’.

I kiss her with feverish dreams.

I kiss her with a hard cock.

I kiss her with a passion I had no idea of possessing.

Fuck, I kiss her.

I slip my tongue in her mouth with a moan.

I revel in the way her breath stops when I slide it against hers’.

I smile when she bites my lip for a stance of dominance.

Except I know for a fact that if I wanted to, I could have her punished and writhing for my cock in a minute.

I kiss her.

And she kisses me back.

When she scratches against my scalp and pulls at the strands of my hair, arching her back against me, I'm hit with the sudden realization of her earlier question.

She wants me to be attracted to her.

Desperately.

She’s kissing me- devouring my lips, even- pushing and pulling and arching her body against mine because she wants me to want her.

Dare I even say, she wants me to want her as much as she does me.

She wants me.

y/n desperately wants me.

The best friend I’ve known for years has been yearning for my touch, and I’ve been oblivious to it.

Stupid motherfucker.

My cock restrains when I slide my hands over her body, holding everything I can reach, but staying respectful. I inch toward the curve of her ass, but stop.

My hands barely graze the round of her breast, but I don’t go further.

Because I don’t know that she wants me. It’s a deducted conclusion, yet not a fully proven one.

Im giving her a chance to back down.

I rest my hands on her waist, and push her body closer to mine, craning my neck and giving in to the kiss deeper.

She bites my lip again, pulling it with her teeth and my eyes almost roll back at the feeling.

I'm torturing myself.

My cock aches for release and my body calls for her.

Yet, I just cant get enough of her damn lips.

She pulls away- reluctantly- with wide eyes and a crazed expression.

All swollen lips and smudged lipstick.

I almost whimper.

“wait.” She blinks away and I can almost feel her mind drift off.

She disentangles her body from mine and runs her hands through her hair, as if trying to regain a semblance of control over herself.

“hey.” Calling out softly, I reach out for her, for some of her.

I want her so fucking badly.

She doesn’t reply, only taking a step back and shaking her head.

My hand falls.

I push away my horny thoughts for a second.

Is that…regret I see on her face?

“y/n.” I call out again, mind swirling harder and only growing more drowsy by the second.

“you just kissed me.”

“I did.”

“why?”

What's that supposed to mean?

“because I wanted to?” my confusion is palpable.

“you didn’t answer my earlier question.” She doesn’t look at me.

She doesn’t look at me and my heart near sinks.

What question?

“do you want to fuck me because im the only available option?”

Oh. That.

“what?” is all I can say.

I don’t know what to say.

“you want to fuck me, right?” she doesn’t fucking look at me.

Why wont she look at me?

My shoulders tense and my eyebrows knot.

Would that be such a crime? Us fucking?

Apparently so, to miss y/n.

I thought she wanted me?

Guess I was wrong.

“yes.” I do.

“why?”

“what the fuck do you mean, y/n?” I cant help the rough edge that bleeds into my tone.

I thought we were getting somewhere.

She let me kiss her.

“why do you want to fuck me?”

“because I want to?”

I take a step closer, and she takes one back.

What the fuck?

“you’ve taken a sex pill, jungkook.” And?

I stay silent.

“that pill makes you horny.”

I hum impatiently, urging her on.

“we’ve been best friends for seven years, and you just now want to fuck me and do things to me?”

A sadistic chuckle rips out of my chest. I feel my heart bleed, but I try to shift the feeling to ice in my veins.

Except white hot lust is literally pumping through my system, and it’s with great effort that im able to contain my impulse.

Oh, and, by the way?

Pretty eyes still won't look at me, and it makes my blood boil.

Fucking boil, I tell you.

Would I pull her close and tell her to voice her insecurities if I didn’t want her?

If I didn’t care for her?

Would I kiss her?

“you’re not answering me, jungkook.”

Her eyes are not on mine and im panicking.

Does she think im using her?

“you wanna know why I want to fuck you?”

At my ice cold tone, she finally looks up.

And when I begin my stride toward her slowly cowering frame, she goes on with taking retreating steps.

“why I want to ruin you?”

Another step closer, met with another step back.

“why I want to hear your scream my name?”

I can see her clench her legs together, and when she bumps against the wall with a shiver, all I can do is laugh bitterly.

The predator and prey trance ceases when I halt in front of her with both hands against the wall on either side of her head.

Im caging her in, and she's shivering underneath my scrutiny.

It does little to satiate the inhumane sadistic urges containing me.

“tell me why.”

My hand slides down, down, down, until I find the curve of her hip and firmly hold my hand there.

“you don’t get to call the shots.” A squeeze at her hip. “not here,” my neck drops until my breath is met with the curve of her ear. I let my voice deepen into a rasp when I come dangerously close to the lobe of her ear. “not now.”

Her breath hitches, and when I step between her legs and pull her body flush against mine, all she's able to do is gasp.

My hand’s on her waist, arching her back as she’s pressed against me. The feeling of my thigh against her heat is driving me farther than insane.

I can feel the slick between her thighs on mine, wetness seeping through her panties and onto my jeans. I’m sure she can feel my rigid outline through my slacks, because she has the audacity to shift her thigh so that it connects with my arousal.

A little harsher contact than usual.

I cant help but hiss.

Everything she does now is ten times more heightened, but im not sure she knows that.

When I move my thigh toward her core in return, she grinds back onto it.

A small whimper graces my ears.

“now who’s being needy?” a humorless chuckle.

Belittling.

Humiliating.

But she couldn’t care less as she breathlessly moans in return and starts to ride my thigh.

Pathetic.

Turns me on.

I press my thigh even farther up her core as confirmation.

She moans louder this time, the sound like music to my ears.

“still wanna know the answer to your stupid question?” I smirk against her ear with a slight lilt of tease in my voice, knowing if she wasn’t riding high on a wave of pleasure, she would’ve- without a doubt- smacked me or poked my rib playfully.

But the thing is, she can’t.

She closes her eyes, frantically growing more needy with every bump and grind of her pussy against my clothed thigh.

She’s close when she gasps and clutches my bicep for support.

“not so easy.” I take her moment of vulnerability as payback for what she’s had me go through tonight.

Im in physical pain.

And im damn willing to make her suffer.

She audibly whines when I completely pull myself away from her, taking a victorious step back.

I just robbed her of her orgasm.

Ha.

“what the fuck?” she grows defensive now, coming nose-to-nose with me as she gets all in my face.

Cute.

My smile’s wolfish.

That only irritates her more, and I honest-to-god expect her to punch me right here and now…

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she lets out a huff- a fucking adorable one- and stalks off.

She hastily grabs her purse and shoves a hand in it, seemingly searching for her phone.

My smile instantly drops.

“what are you doing?” distaste.

She doesn’t answer me.

In an instant, she’s shoving the door open and the next, im walking over to her, pushing the door closed and turning her around.

Calmly.

I have no fleeting idea how the fuck I managed to keep myself controlled.

I pin her against the wooden door with a hand on the side of her neck and another on her middle.

“when I ask you a question,” my head dips down and I gently graze my nose against her jaw. “you answer it.”

She shoves me, clutching my shirt and crumpling it when she tries to push me away.

But her body does otherwise.

She arches against me and her breathing grows ragged.

She’s almost as turned on as I am, her nipples pebbled and hard through the sheer material of the dress.

So when she pushes me away, I remain rooted in place with a mocking smile on my lips.

“no.”

“no?” she echoes, infuriated and almost resigned.

A low hum reverberates as my confirmation.

“why?” she asks so quietly I strain to hear her, even through our very close proximity.

I can hear her heartbeat racing.

But it’s not even close to the rate of mine.

“because I want you.” A rough whisper.

A vulnerable confession.

“then kiss me.”

She wont have to ask me twice.

When my lips finally reconnect with hers’ in a dreamy haze, she kisses me back with insane need.

Im afraid once I start, I wont be able to stop.

Im not even sure I would want to.

Her purse falls to the floor as she circles her arms around my neck, pulling me down and further into the poison that is her.

She’s a drug.

And count me fucking addicted.

She bites my lower lip and tugs, shamelessly drawing blood and fuck if this girl will be able to walk tomorrow.

“I want you.”

I pull away as much as she allows me to, but my lips are barely off of hers’ and on her throat before she grabs my face and makes out with me again.

All I can do is moan into the dream that is her mouth in return.

She tries to take her heels off- failing miserably with her growing more preoccupied with my mouth by the second.

I groan impatiently and bite her lip, tasting her with my tongue and never getting enough it.

Her whimpers and my grunts get lost somewhere along our undying need for each other.

“up.” She jumps at the command, legs latching onto my middle which I catch and hold on to.

Our mouths remain one as I carry us both to my bedroom.

Fuck me if I aint taking this seriously.

Ive been wanting this girl for I don’t know how long, been in denial for even longer.

How could anyone not want her?

Her hair, her lips, her body, her eyes, her nose, her damn lips.

Those fucking lips.

My end, my demise.

She detangles them from our very sloppy make-out to lazily drag them along the column of my throat.

Slowly,

Boldly,

Teasingly.

I cant help but grind up into her in response.

I guess the low approving growl that reaches her ears turns her on, because she grinds back even wilder.

Feeling like I will most definitely combust, I set her on her feet in the middle of the hallway.

Her eyes round in confusion as to why I stopped just barely two steps away from my bedroom.

I could take her there.

On her knees, ass up.

On her back, knees apart.

On me, back arched.

But my cock aches and im two minutes away from begging if she doesn’t let me be inside her for another second.

This is torture.

She is torture.

So I give her mouth one last sloppy kiss before turning her around and-gently- pushing her against the wall. She winds up with her cheek pressing against it as well as her tits restrained in the tight confinement between her body and the solid concrete wall.

Pressing the palms of her hands on it for balance, she yelps when I grab her hips and pull them towards me.

She’s like a doll I can throw around however I like.

And im bewildered how easy she’s letting me off.

Under other circumstances, I would’ve gotten a huff or a whine in protest, but now?

She pushes her ass farther against my crotch and grinds.

She grinds her fucking ass on my dick and I think I might cry from the pain of wanting to be inside her.

Enough waiting.

I roughly pull the hem of her dress above the arch of her ass and fuck if it isnt the prettiest sight.

She lets out a sigh which turns into a moan when I land a light-careful- spank on her ass.

It’s careful because I don’t know what she likes.

Rough and hungry?

Sweet and slow?

The former would be more convenient, considering the circumstances of us being horny out of our minds.

But the latter would be more pleasant, especially since her body is way more delicate than I could ever imagine.

I wouldn’t force anything on her, of course.

Goddamn it, im gagged.

She spreads her legs wider for me as she grinds, moaning “more” in the most pornographic voice ive ever heard.

A pained groan and a harder slap is what she gets for that.

That torment.

The thong she’s wearing almost bares her pussy to me, and at that particular sight, I am a mad man.

I pull her thong down down down, and pull her ass up up up.

She glistens with the evidence of her arousal, and a low groan of pleasure shamelessly escapes me.

“You’re unbelievable.” Shock.

“In a good way?” Confused.

Getting on my knees as fast as I can, I latch my mouth onto her opening and do what I shouldve done a long time ago.

I worship the incredible goddess that’s been right in front of my eyes for ages.

I nibble, lick, and suck, moaning into her pretty pretty pussy.

She’s so fucking pretty.

I hope she knows it.

At least after this, I’ll make damn sure she gets that fact straight.

Unbelievable.

She is.

She moans and moans and moans, and all I need is a little friction to cum in my restraining boxers.

So I do what I need to; palm my dick through my jeans while I bury my face into her pussy.

So fucking beautiful.

Just like I imagined.

I suck her clit into my mouth and suck, in which she bucks her hips into my face in a moaning plea for more.

Toying with her clit and nibbling on her sinful taste has me on my knees. Literally.

I wouldn’t hesitate to fucking beg this woman.

If she asked me to? There’s probably nothing that would make me say no to her.

Nothing.

Im afraid im already obsessed.

She grinds once onto my mouth, gasping once she’s realized what she'd done.

“it feels good?” I press an open-mouthed kiss on her opening, using my tongue to tease into it.

She whimpers loudly, her legs opening wider for me.

“such a needy slut.”

She whines at that, and with no warning I push two fingers into her aching heat.

Her very, very, wet and soaking heat.

A barely audible gasp is out of her mouth when I push another finger in and take her clit back into my mouth, squeezing her ass-cheek with my free hand.

“what do you want?” and I start fucking her with my fingers.

“please…” her breath hitches right when I curl them, reaching a spot that made her clench around me and buck her hips wildly against my face.

“you wanna cum? Huh? All up against my mouth?”

She’s fucking dripping all over me, and it's just about the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

I continue my ruthless finger-fucking until I feel her moans build up so high I have to spank her ass.

“shhh, baby. You’re doing so well.” I massage the red hand-print gently, slightly guilty at the rough spank I delivered. “let’s not give the neighbors a show they didn't ask for.”

But fuck, I love hearing her moan for me.

My movements don’t stop as they even heighten in intensity, but all I hear is her harsh breathing in return.

She chose to be obedient.

“Good girl.”

She whines quietly, and she clenches around my moving fingers again as she inches closer to her orgasm.

“yeah?” im waiting for her confirmation.

“yeah.” She says breathlessly, her hips arching further as she shamelessly offers her dripping pussy to me.

Goddamn the effect this woman has on me.

My cock twitches with the reminder of my horniness, and my breath grows ragged along with hers.

My fingers remain unrelenting as I pick the pace up further and curl them, sucking her clit into my mouth and toying with it using my tongue.

Breathing seems to be a far possibility for me when she clenches her pussy so tight it's almost hard for me to move.

Like she’s holding me there.

“Cum for me, baby.”

A high moan barely escapes her as she muffles the sound with her hand. Biting on her hand to quiet down, she reaches her orgasm and I moan when her legs shake.

She’s trembling, fucked out as she grinds back on my mouth with her hand covering hers.

I rub my cock through my jeans only once, and that’s all it takes for me to cum with her.

I tongue-fuck her through her orgasm, my hand on my clothed cock persistent, even as it gets a little uncomfortable.

She quietly begs me when I’ve overstimulated her, so I press one last kiss to her pussy and get on my feet.

Y/n holds onto the wall for support before straightening her back and leaning her weight against me.

She breathes heavily and her eyes are closed when she wobbles around to look at me.

Is she too spent already?

Too bad.

We’re nowhere near done.

“take me to bed.”

“we’re not done yet.”

“I didn’t say we were.”

She gets on her toes, pressing a sloppy kiss to my mouth as she fondles with my shirt.

I suck on her tongue when she opens a button and slips a hand into my shirt, feeling me up with her nails. She scratches me on my chest, on my abs, and wherever her hands can reach.

My cock goes back to its aching state, at that.

“mm, baby.” I pull back and exhale a sigh when she successfully unbuttons my shirt and throws it on the ground.

She guides a single finger over my abs- which flex as an approving reflex- and plays with the waistband of my boxers peeking out of my pants.

I’m reminded with the sticky material pressing against me right then and there, and she noticed the damp spot over my crotch when she pulls my pants down.

She looks up in surprise, apparently shocked that I’m so horny I came in my damn boxers.

Not gonna lie, a first for me, too.

I smirk. “surprised?”

“very.” She laughs.

I like this. Her. I can be who I am with this woman.

I can laugh with her during foreplay, for example.

On her knees, she looks up at me through innocent eyes and dark lashes as she pulls the barrier of my boxers down.

She stares at my length, appearing impressed- and scared- at the sheer size of it.

“fuck. You drive me insane.” A low grumble of bewilderment.

“I know.” A giggle of satisfaction. “you wanna fuck my throat?”

Judging off the fact that she goes to take me in her mouth, probably thinking I’ll say ‘yes’, she presses a kiss to the tip of my cock before sucking it into her mouth.

Such a fucking tease.

But we’re not doing this.

Not now.

I struggle to suppress a moan, pulling her up by her hand as I shake my head.

“Maybe another time.”

She stares at me with a scrunch of confusion in her brows before nodding in understanding.

I take her hand in mine and wrap it around my cock, stroking it once

Her eyes droop low in a shadow of wanting need as she watches the movement with her bottom lip between her teeth.

As I guide her through the hand job, I pull her to me by the neck, her hand in mine stuck between our bodies as I kiss her with feverish need.

Her rhythm accelerates and she squeezes me, making my orgasm almost tip over the edge.

I hold back with all my might as I loudly release a pornographic moan in her mouth, as to which she smiles into the kiss in return.

She bites my lips and pulls it to her before releasing it, sucking on my tongue right after. Stroking me even faster as she presses her mouth to me farther.

I can barely keep up, bur I’m not complaining.

It’s been a while since I’ve had sex this hungry.

She’s impatient and I’m testing her limits.

But I’m afraid my limits were crossed over in the process.

Apparently in the mood to torture myself now more than ever, I pull both of our hands away from my cock right as I’m about to cum.

“what’s wrong-“

“I need to be inside you.” She closes her mouth shut.

“need to feel you around me.” I kiss her.

“need to cum inside of you.” She moans.

“who's stopping you?”

Well damn.

Right to the point.

“shut up.” As I carry her to my bedroom.

Neither of us have time to contemplate anything as I set her gently on the bed.

She slightly bounces, at which she giggles at as I get rid of the bunched up dress at her waist.

Pulling it over her head, her tits bounce as she plops back onto the mattress and takes me down to her by her grip on my neck.

“easy, baby.” I smirk before her lips are on mine. “I’m not going anywhere.”

We're both naked.

Skin to skin.

Me and my best friend.

My cock glides easily along her pussy, a result of her being so wet.

For me.

Pretty baby’s as horny for me as I am for her.

“gonna let me fuck you good?” I pant as my hips accelerate in rhythm, bumping and grinding against her. “huh?”

She moans when my tip nudges her clit, and I do it again and again as we both grow needier.

Hungrier.

More and more desperate for the feel of each other.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back once I’ve gotten a taste of her.

So I take my damn time.

Her hot, wet pussy glides smoothly along my length as I grind on her frantically.

We’re like horny bunnies in heat, eager for release.

Unable to wait any longer, I stroke my cock once before nudging it along her entrance.

She moans at that, and looks down as she watches me jerk myself off with the tip inside her.

I stroke myself only once more, and she says, “do that again.”

She likes watching me jerk-off?

Well, fuck.

“you like that?”

She moans and clenches around my tip when I stroke myself again. Writhing underneath me makes her look borderline desperate as she pants.

Her tits go up and down in rhythm with her rushed breathing, and her peaked nipples beg for attention.

I take a nipple in my mouth, entering y/n one inch further.

A little sigh of contentment is all I get before she clenches around me so hard my breath is cut off.

I groan around her nipple, slightly biting on it as I release it with a pop.

I go slow the rest of the way it takes me to fully nestle inside y/n’s pussy.

She feels heavenly, so warm and wet and- heavenly.

My eyes are hard on the spot where my pelvis meets hers in an incredible show of intimacy, and my jaw clenches from how fucking tight she is.

y/n catches my attention by digging her nails into my forearm, silently pleading me to look at her.

So I do.

And, fuck. I might bust a nut right here and now.

y/n’s crying.

A tear runs down her face and she sniffles. Once.

I smooth a palm down her cheek, pushing stray strands away from her pretty face.

“what’s wrong?”

My cock is so deep in her that I’m 100% sure, if I press down on her stomach, I'll feel it there.

She struggles to answer me, her voice barely above a whisper when she whispers to me.

“it hurts.” Her voice breaks. “it hurts s-so good.”

The way her voice trembles and shakes is making it hard for me to breath.

Okay…

She’s an emotional fuck.

Such a pretty emotional fuck.

“You’re too big.”

I lock eyes with her when I slightly nudge my hips forward, her eyes snapping shut right when I do so.

Silently, I press a reassuring kiss to her lips which makes her open those pretty dreamy eyes for me.

“we’ll make it work.” With a deep sigh, I pull out of her only to slowly thrust my way back inside. “I’ll make it fit…” I snake a hand down her body to circle her clit gently. She whimpers. “…and it’ll feel good.”

She hums when I repeat my movements with slow reassurance, letting her adjust and take her time.

“look at you. Doing such a good job for me.”

She pulls me in deeper with her legs as they circle around my hips, caging me in as her nails graze my back.

She moans in my ears and I’m barely able to contain my damn hunger when she bites her lip while maintaining eye contact.

What on earth is happening to me.

Love?

Must be an insane amount of lust injected into my veins.

Does viagra have this long of an effect?

I’ve swam deep into this pool of desire, so lost in her eyes and breathy moans that I don’t notice how fast my thrusts have grown.

On a particularly harsh thrust, my hips brutally snap into hers as I pull out and do it again and again until she’s breathlessly moaning my name with tears in her eyes.

“yeah?” I dip my head into the damp crook of her neck.

She smells so damn sweet.

Like cherries, and….strawberries?

Maybe even a hint of vanilla.

Jesus christ.

Get a damn grip.

“it feels so good.” As she chokes on a sob.

“mhm?” I groan into her neck, the sound a low grumble of approval. “you wanna say that again?”

My hips are moving an animalistic speed at this point as she claws at my back and cries my name.

“jungkook!” a sob.

“you gonna cum for me? Huh?” I circle her clit again, and when I feel her clench so tight around me I can barely move, I know she’s cumming.

Without removing my face from her neck, I cover her mouth with my hand and snap my hips into hers again and again. Relentlessly.

“cum for me.”

She screams into my hand and bites it to muffle the sound, her body shaking under my own trembling body.

She whimpers as she comes down from her high, kissing my hand as a way of asking me to remove it.

My rhythm grows sloppy and lazy as my thrusts slow down, and with one last hard thrust into her, I’m biting into her neck with a rough “holy fuck” as I cum the hardest I've ever have in my whole 26 years of living.

I still inside her, unmoving as I kiss her neck lazily- apparently unable of giving up the sweet scent of her- as she runs her hands over my back and into my hair.

We stay like that for a while, both silent and content, the post-orgasm glow evident on both of our high faces.

Humming into the sweet taste of her throat, she giggles as the gesture seems to tickle her. One last kiss to her neck.

I roll off of her, careful not to crush her with my weight. We both grimace when I pull out of her, equally overstimulated.

We were horny best friends, frustrated and bothered just a little while ago.

Now?

We’re still best friends…I think.

Best friends who fucked like animals in heat.

But, unlike how I expected it to be, it’s not awkward at all.

When I turn my head to look at the beauty lying next to me, she has her eyes already closed as she seems to be dozing off to sleep.

I get up, making quick work to grab a glass of water and some damp towels, sitting back down next to her.

Cleaning her up only takes me a couple minutes to do the task as gently as I could, careful not to hurt her. I almost feel bad from how swollen and sore she’s going to be tomorrow.

I bend down and press a peck on her clit, the intention one of pure apology.

Maybe I went too hard.

“what’s that look for?” her voice speaks up from next to me.

“hm?”

“you’re frowning. Why?”

“I just- I'm sorry if I hurt you.” A small smile. “I got a bit carried away.”

“mm, you did.” She agrees.

Wait…did I actually hurt her?

She cackles at the hint of alarm in my eyes as she swats my arm.

“you’re okay, big guy. You didn’t hurt me…much.” She smiles a cheeky smile as she tries to stand up, wobbling as I grab her arm.

“you cried.” My voice is hoarse when I tell her that. It’s true. She cried, and it was the second hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed, first being her pretty pussy. “it was hot.”

She shyly smiles at me, bending down to kiss me softly. She waddles to the bathroom- naked- as she stops at the entryway to look back at me over her shoulder.

“come shower with me.”

Should I?

Don’t mind if I do.

“okay.” The soft look in my eyes disappears to make way to mischief. She cathces onto that too quick. “round two?”

She snorts at that. “I’m afraid I’d pass out.”

“I mean…”

She gasps, as if in betrayal.

“you’re not seriously considering it, are you?!”

I step closer to her, my hand on her neck before I claim her lips. “and what if I am?”

how's may treating everyone so far?

@hoseokteardrop @nochuel @kaitieskidmore97 @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring @bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdolls @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotes @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime @allisonstonex @hopekive @llallaaa @tarahardcore @hopetookmysoul @betysotelo18 @harmonic55 @ecrvea @awesomebabyyoda @peterstarkchrishiddleston @pinkrockstar19 @sweetestseoul @luv--youu @mochminnie @coletaehyung @whitelies2248-blog @ash07128 @bangtans-momma

@yourbobaeyestell @laylasbunbunny @btsnpniff @olimpiiaa @caro134340lina @ohsweetmimosa @lovingkoalaface @httpjeonlicious @t-alyssa2006 @aloverga @sexytholland

@skzthinker @whoa-jo @Noonabts36 @misshale21 @iammeandmeisiam @piyuna

[hyewka]

warnings. switch!beomgyu, idol!au, brief mention of choking

cant stop thinking about trainee!reader and idol!beomgyu, where gyu first introduces a fuck buddy relationship after sleeping with you one time, not aware that alone would be the sole reason his obsession and attachment manifests. just imagine dom gyu whos used to fucking with no strings attached due to the nature of his occupation and who thinks itll be the same with you until he feels bored enough to leave your messages on delivered. but idol!beomgyu who one day lets out his frustrations, too roughly and mean that when hes done and sees the hurt, the less than normal distance, gets some clarity to immediately melt into apologies, inspecting every inch of your body to be sure you’re okay.

beomgyu who for once, lets someone sleep in with him after sex all because of what he assumed was really bad guilty conscience. awkward as he attempts to scoot for some room, letting you cover your body under his blanket, just completely rigid as he stares at the ceiling with his hands to his sides like some soldier.

then…he does it again, he lets you sleep in, this time its because he’s tired and he can feel your exhaustion radiating off you. he’ll feel bad letting you walk all the way to your flat. but due to how frequent you get together, his arms feel more comfortable wrapping around your figure as you drift to sleep.

when he lets it happen the third time, it’s a problem.

you didn’t fuck, not even a quickie or a makeout session, just him, for whatever reason, asking you to cuddle. cuddle. “i’m stressed, with the comeback and all.” he mumbles lamely, biting down slightly on his lip, trying to convince himself as well.

“when you’re stressed… we fuck.” you say slowly, and skeptically.

just when hes about to backtrack and take it back you jump in his bed anyway, “whatever i’m not gonna refuse a good mattress.”

and then when you sleep with your face turned towards him, he feels like hes been sucked in, looking at every detail as if hes trying to have a picture in his head forever.

beomgyu who gets attached way too fast and way too quick that after the fourth time you‘ve fucked around and sees you flirting it up with soobin he absolutely loses it.

“i just got him a gift to congragulate him for landing the mc gig..why’re you acting like i murdered your entire bloodline?”

because thats what it feels like.

he inexplicably presses harder on your throat, shutting you up more by pressing his lips on yours, kissing and kissing till your lips were swollen, his brows furrowed deeply as you pathetically attempt to roll your hips into his. fucking you against the wall in a random artists’ green room, five minutes before a pre recording…hes fucking lost his mind.

god, he’s addicted.

imagine when your dynamic slowly flips, none of you are aware until you realize how often he follows you around like a puppy fan—you don’t think he was ever this clingy. beomgyu being the one who tries to meet up any chance available even paying you a visit secretly in the practice room at midnight, sneaking in snacks.

then its the sex— he’s more vocal, more sensitive when you touch him, moaning so loud you would have to clasp a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. his eyes glaze over at times when you praise him and holy shit what the fuck was up with choi beomgyu.

the beomgyu you met that one day, fucked at a random hotel, and quite literally introduced hard kinks almost immedietely nows in front of you, crumbling down to his knees with his glossy eyes peering up at you like you were a god, begging you to use his face to get off. ruin his makeup. ruin him, please.

[snixx]

if hearing a girl criticize consumerism and beauty/makeup/anti-body hair culture or even just saying they don't like wearing makeup or shaving or performing femininity immediately makes you label them a pick-me maybe that's your own conscience or internalised guilt projecting just sayin'. maybe she isn't the one who thinks you're anti-feminist for wearing makeup (let's face it she most probably doesn't because most people fucking wear makeup) but your visceral defensiveness at someone just existing outside conventional beauty standards says more about you than it probably does about them

[nova-amor]

𝐜𝐰 — 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐨𝐜!𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐧, 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐜𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐩-𝐢𝐧-𝐯 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 𝟑.𝟗𝐤

the walls and floor of the nightclub shook with every resounding beat of the electronic dance music, and the air charged with the infectious electricity of the crowd. the room itself was filled with a mixed stench of alcohol, sweat, and a somehow pleasantly light aroma of earth; scents that were sure to linger on your clothes for the next few laundry cycles. 

in between the revolving glow of the strobe lights, reiner caught a glimpse or two of you dancing at the edge of the crowd, your body squished amongst the group of your friends as you swayed your hips to the music. 

the alternating purple and blue hues of the lights cast an ethereal brilliance on your features, highlighting every perfect curve and contour as you danced the night away. and, through the alternating cycle of songs, you’d cast a teasing glance over to your husband, your eyes silently beckoning him to join you on the dance floor.

but, ever the recluse, reiner maintained his spot in the shadows of the club— preferring to stay seated in the private booth your friend group had rented out in celebration of your birthday, his legs spread far apart and body relaxed into the leather cushions while he sipped on a stiff glass of pear brandy. he preferred to watch you from afar anyway, the opportunity allowing him to truly take in and appreciate your beauty. even, after ten years of marriage, reiner continued to believe that you were the prettiest woman he had ever had the privilege to meet.

like the doting husband he was, reiner adored every one of your features— from the way you had styled your hair for the evening, to the shimmer of your glittery makeup under the club lights, to the way your body always moved flawlessly to the tempo of the music. reiner knew you were the prettiest girl in the club that night, especially with how your little black dress clung to you like a second layer of skin.

and, by recognizing how attractive you were to not only him but to other people as well, reiner made sure to stay observant of the crowd. and, while doing so, reiner was able to take note of how many men shamelessly stared at you from afar, their eyes devouring every roll of your hips, every tilt of your head as you bobbed to the beat of the music. most men knew better than to approach you though, especially since you were a part of a large group and definitely because of the glistening wedding band on your ring finger.

yet, there is always that one fool— a clueless, stupid, arrogant fool.

reiner quirked an eyebrow as a man approached you from behind, watching intensely as the man didn’t hesitate to settle his hands on your waist. you recoiled from his touch, taking a large step forward to escape his wandering fingers. yet, ever the idiot that he was, be it because of alcohol or drugs or just a lack of social conscience, the man took you as a challenge— grabbing at your wrist and tugging you back into his embrace.

unfortunately, your friends were beyond drunk to notice your dilemma, too far off in their own little worlds. reiner pressed his lips together, clutching the crystal rock glass in his hands as he watched the scene unfold. he waited for your signal before stepping in; after being together for so many years, he had learned that you could defend yourself perfectly well without his aid. he’d just have to wait patiently for your signal before making himself known.

and, within a matter of seconds, you looked over at reiner— your brows raised and jaw set, annoyance obvious on your face. and, that was all he needed to pound the rest of his drink and march over to your side. the crowd around the edge scattered away like bugs under a flashlight, providing enough disruption to grab your harasser’s attention.

"what's going on?" reiner's baritone voice boomed in your ear over the blasting music, his presence casting a dominating shadow over you and the other man.

"this fucker won't leave me alone," you relayed to reiner, side-eyeing the man as he fidgeted in his spot. reiner was at least a foot taller than him; the man was far too slim and flimsy to pose any threat to his or your well-being. if reiner really wanted to, he could probably snap the man like a twig with just his pointer finger and thumb. as a matter of fact, the idea didn't seem too bad given the circumstance.

"came over here trying to sweet talk me or something," you continued, your arms wrapping loosely around reiner's waist. reiner ducked his head to hear you better, his eyes narrowing at the embarrassed man across from him. "told him i had a husband; he said he didn't care."

a wicked smirk tugged at reiner's lips as he glanced between you and the man, his irritation with the situation growing by the second. reiner placed a quick kiss on the side of your head before unraveling himself from your grasp, taking a single stride to cut the distance between the man and himself. 

"my wife said you were bothering her," reiner towered over the man, crossing his thick arms over his burly chest. the man was definitely far from posing any challenge. reiner wouldn’t be surprised if he was pissing himself right then and there. "can't take no for a fucking answer, huh?" reiner raised an eyebrow.

the man visibly gulped, trying to remain composed under reiner's daunting gaze. "i— uh, i—" the man stuttered, either too intoxicated or too mortified to answer, most likely both.

"you— uh, you what? too much of a bitch to answer?" reiner took a step closer as he mocked the man, his chest practically pressed to the man's face. he peered down at the man with a hardened gaze, a few nearby stragglers turning their heads to witness the scene unfold. "how old are you anyway? twenty-one? twenty-two? you’re definitely a fucking kid because you’re either too young or too damn stupid to realize that you shouldn’t keep trying to fuck with a woman who’s clearly not interested in a little shit like you."

the man's adam’s apple bobbed as the situation escalated; "i was just— i just wanted to show her a good time," the man rushed out his answer in a single breath, mustering up enough courage to formulate a proper sentence. "wasn't looking for trouble, i promise. you guys have a good night."

before the man could escape, reiner grabbed at the man's shoulder, giving the muscle a tight squeeze. a crooked smile painted itself across reiner's face, "woah woah woah, where the hell are you going? you wanted to show her a good time, huh?" your husband looked over his shoulder at you, an idea already formulating in his mind. you shook your head, knowing exactly what was going on in his head. it was a bad idea. definitely a bad idea.

ignoring your disapproval, reiner looked back at the man, his smile stretching into a cheshire grin. "why didn't you just say so?" the blonde said with a long drawl.

reiner’s arm was draped around your shoulders as he led you and the man down the hallway of a hotel. after finding out that the man who had been harassing you “just wanted to show [you] a good time”, reiner had been quick to offer him the chance to prove so— immediately booking a room at a nearby hotel and ordering an uber ride to transport the three of you there. it was your birthday night after all, and how cruel would it be for your husband to deny you of a “good time”?

the entire engagement had been awkwardly silent. besides the limited conversations reiner held with the uber driver and then the hotel’s front desk agents, neither you nor the man talked— staying as far away from one another as possible given the situation. 

it was borderline deranged how much reiner’s mood had changed, almost as if a light switch had been turned on that converted reiner’s usually protective, reserved persona to one that was scarily more easygoing and extroverted.

as reiner hovered the key fob over the hotel door’s lock, he glanced back at the man who was following you two around like a lost puppy— reiner’s smile widening at the sight of the faint tent appearing between the man’s legs. 

the hotel room was extravagant— featuring a private balcony, a tall dresser, a couch, an office desk & chair, a massive flat-screen tv, and a king-sized bed at the center of the room. you clenched your jaw, rolling your eyes in irritation at the obviously giddy expression on your husband’s face.

“what?” reiner pecked your forehead, briefly ignoring the other person in the room. his attention solely focused on you. “he wants to show you a good time, right? i may as well set the mood right, ja?”

you chewed on the inner lining of your cheek, nerves still wavering with worry. “reiner, i don’t think—”

“shhh, liebling,” reiner captured your lips in a passionate kiss. any lingering qualms you had disappeared at the feeling of his soft lips against yours, his beard tickling your face as he deepened the kiss. his tongue slipping into your mouth, massaging all of your doubt away. 

the man coughed in the distance, reiner breaking the kiss to give him some of the attention he sought. “are we going to start? or—?”

reiner tsked in annoyance. “sit.” he commanded, motioning for the man to sit down on the couch. and, the man did so without protest, his palms pressed to the top of his thighs as he waited for reiner’s next direction.

“so, you want to fuck my wife, ja?” reiner twisted you around to face the man, your eyes locked with the stranger as reiner pressed your back against his front. you could feel the warmth of reiner’s breath on the back of your neck before his nose nuzzled into the back of your head, burying his face into your hair. he inhaled the sweet aroma of your conditioner, allowing the scent to wash over him before peering back over to the man. 

“you said you wanted to show her a ‘good time’? you really think you could?” goosebumps rose along your skin at reiner’s delicate touch, his fingers hooking onto the thin straps of your dress to tug the fabric down. he ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to the top of your shoulder, his eyes remaining zeroed in on the visibly flustered stranger. "come on, be honest. say it. you want to fuck my wife."

the man's eyes flickered between you and reiner, a light shiver coursing through his body as he watched reiner’s hands pull your dress further down, your breasts easily spilling out from the dress’s confines due to your lack of bra. "say it." reiner instructed.

"i want to fuck your wife."

reiner's lips stretched into a cruel smile. “do you know how long it takes to learn a woman’s body?” your husband began to lecture. “do you know how long it took me to figure out what my wife liked? where she likes to be kissed? how she likes to be fucked?”

your skin flushed with embarrassment as reiner kneaded at your breasts from behind, tugging and pinching at your sensitive nipples as he rolled the perky buds between his rough fingers. you could feel heat begin to pool between your thighs, pussy lips tingling as the air thickened with the sexual tension in the room.

the man gulped, “look, dude, i didn’t mean to offend you— or, your wife— i—”

reiner pinched your nipples harder, pulling a loud yelp out from between your lips. the man flinched in response. “halt den mund!” your husband barked, silencing the man from speaking any further. the man sank back into the couch, the weight of defeat heavy on his shoulders.

“you’re lucky i’m a kind man, a good man. my beautiful wife and i are going to give you a lesson in how to please a woman,” reiner’s german accent thickened as his voice dipped into a lower octave, his hands continuing to mindlessly knead at the soft dough of your breasts. “isn’t that right, liebling? you want to help me teach the stupid boy a lesson or two?”

you nodded your head in reply, leaning further into reiner’s possessive touch. the presence of the other man in the room seemed to fade into the back of your mind, your head becoming clouded by the naughty thoughts of what reiner could possibly be playing.

this had been the first time reiner had ever allowed another person to play a part in your intimacy; if you could even call this circumstance that. and, as embarrassed and uncomfortable as you felt in this moment, you couldn’t fight the feeling of arousal that bloomed between your thighs. 

“don’t be shy, liebling,” one of reiner’s hands abandoned your tit to grasp at the hinge of your jaw, the pad of his thumb caressing your jawline. he dipped his head to nip at your ear lobe, lightly pressing his teeth into the soft cartilage before releasing. “use your words. tell the little boy you want to show him how a woman likes to get fucked.”

with your husband’s guidance, you allowed yourself to become more confident, recognizing just how much power your words held in furthering this event. 

if there was going to be anyone who was in real control of how this situation was going to play out, it was going to be you. because you knew that if you told reiner to stop playing around and just kick the man out right now, he would do it without any form of protest.

“you’re going to sit there and watch,” you told the man, recognizing the pitched tent in the man’s pants. he squirmed in his spot on the couch, beads of sweat forming on his hairline. “and, you’re going to learn how to show someone a good time.”

your cheek rubbed against the silky sheets of the bed, a string of drool seeping from the corner of your mouth and pooling into the dampened mattress beneath you. your head bobbed along with each sharp rut of reiner’s hips, his cock driving so far deep into you that you were sure you could see stars.

“mmmm, would you look at that… isn’t she just the prettiest? ” reiner purred from behind you, his hands gripping at the fat of your ass cheeks. dragging your sopping cunt back and forth along his cock, using you as if you nothing more than a simple cock sleeve. you were positive he wasn’t talking to you.

“she’s got the best pussy. so wet and warm, squeezin’ me so tight— no matter how many times i make her cream on my cock, she’s— always— milkin’— me— for— more—” reiner commented through gritted teeth, the words punctuated by each brutally restrained thrust into you.

you mewled along to his praises, arching your back deeper into the form of a crescent while raising your ass impossibly higher into the air. reiner was absolutely right— no matter how many times he made you cum, you were always left begging for more. and, he was always happy to oblige.

reiner laced his fingers around the bottom of your jaw, cupping your head gently to shift your viewpoint. your glossy eyes met the man across from you; you had learned his name at some point during this whole ordeal, yet your mind was far too clouded to recall what it was. it was something lame and forgettable, just like him.

the man squeezed at the base of his cock— his shaft veiny, slim, and far smaller than reiner’s. smaller than any other man’s you had ever seen before actually. it suited him though, it was just as feeble and pathetic.

“i still can’t believe you thought you’d get a chance to fuck my wife. what kind of a good time would you be showing her with that, hm?” reiner’s words were harsh and demeaning, the man shifting his gaze away in distress. “no no, don’t look away. you keep your eyes on her.”

and, the man did as told. whatever mortification the man felt was far less important than the pleasure he must be receiving from reiner’s cruel words, his hands continuing to boldly stroke his dick in synchronization with reiner’s pace.

reiner guided you up from your face-down position to press your back against his chest, his hand trailing down from your jaw to cup at the underside of your breast. he rolled his thumb over the puffy nipple, his cheek pressed against yours as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your gummy walls.

“you really thought you’d get the chance to touch these perfect tits? to suck and play with them?” reiner’s other hand found the purchase of your other breast, both of his large hands massaging your chest— tweaking and rubbing and squeezing your breasts in his mighty grasp. “and, you wouldn’t just stop there, right? no no, don’t lie, you wouldn’t.”

“you’d move south,” one of reiner’s hands trailed down the length of your front— ghosting over your abdomen, past your pelvis, and down to your clit. reiner rolled the tips of his fingers over the overstimulated bud, drawing loose circles and figure eights over it. 

he then slotted your clit between the space of his index and middle fingers, rubbing the messy area of your inner labia as he spread your soaking folds apart. “take note, boy— this is where the clit is; do your best to remember it. you always, always, play with a woman’s clit during sex. helps them cum faster; isn’t that right, kleine?”

you whimpered in agreement, unable to find the words to reply. reiner’s fingers spread your folds to reveal the obscene sight of reiner's cock plunging in and out of you, a white ring of cream clinging to the base of his shaft. 

your cunt was also coated with the cream; the skin of your thighs and outer labia glistening with the mixed layers of reiner's release, your releases, and your continuous drippings of arousal. the filthy squelching sound of reiner's cock diving into the warm depths of your cunt bouncing off the walls of the hotel room.

reiner shifted his fingers around to allow his middle finger to tap your clit, giving the bud a few light taps in between his alternating drawings of shapes and rubs. he smothered the little bud with attention, eliciting sweet moans and whines from your throat with each attentive touch.

"you like that, mein liebchen?" reiner purred into your ear, the overstimulation making your eyes cross and toes curl. reiner's eyes narrowed at the other man, his lips curling down in disgust at the sight of him openly fondling himself in front of you and reiner. "why don't you tell our little friend just how good you feel, hm? sei ein guter mädchen und sag ihm, wie gut ich dich fühlen lasse. wie gut ich auf dich aufpasse."

"soo good, so fuckin' good," you whimpered, your mind drifting in and out of the state of euphoria you were currently in. you could barely bring yourself to acknowledge the other man, let alone say something to him. "ya always take care of me, rein— f-fuck, always— he treats me so soo good."

reiner gave your clit a soft pinch, stretching the sweet nub a little before releasing it. "is that right, mein schatz?" you could feel his cock nudge against the sensitive spot along your gummy walls, the knot at the pit of your stomach beginning to grow with each timed thrust into your g-spot. "gonna cum again? can feel you gettin' close, your little walls latching onto me like a vice."

"doesn't she look so pretty when she's about to cum?" your thighs began to grow numb, the coil with you beginning to unravel as your head grew light. "tell her she looks pretty." reiner commanded.

you lazily caught a glimpse of the man, barely watching as he sped up the motions of his hands to match up with your upcoming release. he wanted to reach his climax at the same time as you, wanted to cum alongside you. how sweet.

"you look so pretty—" the man through spaced words, hips bucking desperately into the air as he fucked his fist. "so pretty— ah-fuck, wanna cum with you—"

"ah, he wants t' cum, liebling," reiner whispered to you, your breaths getting heavier. you were so close, just a few more thrusts and you'd be toppling over the edge for the nth time that night. "you think he deserves to cum with you?"

"i don't care," you replied. "just wanna cum, rein— need t' cum—"

reiner's hand began to move faster, rubbing your clit in harsh swiping motion as he picked up the pace, his cock kissing at the wall of your cervix. "cum then. be a good girl—" reiner hissed. and, cum— cum all over my cock while i cum inside you."

and, you did; your orgasm knocking the very air out of your lungs. the pleasure became all too much— shattering your mind into tiny fragments as reiner spilled another load of thick, white sticky ropes into you. "that's it— take my cum, liebling— take all of it— scheiße!" he swore with accompanying guttural groans.

your body went limp in reiner's arms, completely tired and spent from the hours you had endured. you had ravaged, depleted of any more pleasure. you were desperate for a glass of water, yet you couldn't even bring yourself to move.

"now, get out," reiner instructed the man. he must have come at some point while you and reiner indulged in your pleasures, the evidence of his release being the white stains on his stomach and shirt. "don't make me say it again."

the man awkwardly shuffled to compose himself, shoving his limp cock back beneath the waistband of his jeans before adjusting his shirt. he grimaced in disgust at the droplets of cum that stained his shirt, but he knew that reiner's patience was running then and he wouldn't be given the luxury to properly clean himself up.

the hotel door slammed shut behind him, the loud click of the lock echoing through the room. once you were completely alone, reiner retracted his cock from inside you— fat globs of his load dripping out of your sore entrance and making a mess on the comforter.

"let's get you all cleaned up," reiner helped you to lay down on your back, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before walking away. he came back with a damp washcloth, thoroughly cleaning your folds and inner thighs of any bodily fluids.

"was that okay?" he asked, a faint hiss leaving his lips as he cleaned up any remnants of your releases from his sensitive shaft. "you enjoyed yourself, right?"

you could just barely nod your head, tucking the blanket over your body— it was thick enough that any spilled body fluids couldn't seep through. "i had fun, reiner," you informed him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. your husband slipped beneath the comforters next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist and tucking you close into his front. "didn't realize i had an exhibition kink until tonight."

"ah, well," reiner pressed a few kisses to your cheek, the embrace he held on you tightening. the warm, fuzzy feeling of love making your heart swell. "i'm glad i was able to show you a good time then."

german to english translations

halt den mund — shut your mouth

kleine — little one

mein schatz — my treasure

liebling — darling

mein liebchen — my love

ja — yes

sei ein guter mädchen und sag ihm, wie gut ich dich fühlen lasse. wie gut ich auf dich aufpasse — be a good girl and tell him how good i let you feel. how well i take care of you

scheiße — fuck

[nanaminsmoon]

5 minutes ~ e.jaegar x goodgirl!reader. mdni. 18+

a/n: i hate the ending for this one, but if i didn't post it now then it'd be in my drafts for years so she had to go lol.

wc: 2976 + not proofread properly.

the saying ‘opposites attract’ was coined for you and eren, with him being the night to your day. he represented the dark cesspools of society that your parents had raised you to stay very weary of. in fact, if there was a textbook definition for the type of boy you’d been warned to stay far, far away from, beside it would be a collage of eren’s mugshots. but first meetings with no knowledge of each other’s histories was the intersection of the paths you’d always considered to be parallel; perhaps walking beside each other, but never converging. and their merging would be caused by the fateful day you crossed the authoritarian line your parents had drawn very boldly since you were very young.

the magnetic field surrounding the young man had been unbeknownst to you, but he was the south to your north pole, reeling you in all night until you inevitably met in the midst of the crowd of moving bodies. you’d been second-guessing your decision to agree to attend ymir’s party with your friends, but any dubious thought in your mind dispersed the second your eyes met eren’s lidded ones. even with the dimmed lighting, you could sense them scanning you—leaving blazing traces of want in their wake. you’d hoped the embarrassment boiling inside of you wasn’t obvious, but it had set your body alight—its heat emanating off your figure to waft into eren’s smug face.

if ‘trouble’ had a look, and smell, it would be eren. it’d have his face—inviting yet seemingly cunning, and unreadable in its arrangement of his perfect features. it’d possess his ability to send a militia of chills up your spine the same way too—unsettlement marching up your spine at the potent smell of cigarette smoke, cologne, and whatever alcohol was in that red solo cup. magnetism brewed in eren’s chest, traversing through his bloodstream to reach the point of his fingertips that lightly traced the exposed skin on your arm. once it’d transfer to you, glances were no longer stolen, and neither were dances—both were given freely. and, alongside the pair, would go your moral compass, making you unrecognisable even to yourself as you moved with him—your ass pushing into his growing bulge. the heat transferring at the point where your bodies met would cancel out that of his burning gaze on you. that and his feverish hands grabbing onto your hips, catching everything you threw back on him. all the while, a cigarette would sit comfortably between his lips, grey smoke slipping past it to escape his mouth every time he groaned at the feeling of you brushing against him.

the newfound courage cloaked you, blurring your presence in the crowd of moving figures thus making it impossible for your friends to find you. sense regained, they stood at the door all ready to go home, but ‘home’ hadn’t been a thought in your mind since the smoke eren blew into your mouth, ascended into your brain to cloud your sense of better judgment. there would be a moment where your eyes would dart to them as they beckoned for you to join them, but eren would catch on quickly. and his fingers, hugging his cigarette between them, would wrap themselves around your chin as they turned you to face him,

“gimme 5 more minutes”, his cheek would be against yours as he spoke into your ear, and you’d nod like a fool as he smiled at you and took your hand in his, leading you upstairs.

and five minutes is all it’d take for the barrier holding back your tears to collapse unceremoniously, making way for the stream to coat the pillow cases of ymir’s parents’ bed. the combination of your wanton desperation, pleasure, and makeup would stain the material pressed up against your face—adhering it to your moist skin in a way that made your conscience pulsate with guilt. but the once clear-cut lines on your morality would fade with every collision of eren’s skin against yours. the moments leading up to this position had gotten you used to the way eren’s fingertips dug into your hips and, though similar to that of when you were dancing together, this time he could clearly see the way your flesh recoiled when your skin met his. finally, he could clearly hear the small, squeals leaving your mouth as his dick bullied its way in and out of you, leaving you a fucked out, dishevelled shell of yourself. and that shell that would soon be filled to the point of leakage when your walls tightening around him, unexpectedly stole eren’s release from him. and, somehow, five minutes would turn into two hours, until you were both dragged back into reality by heavy knocks on the door.

call it naivety, or wishful thinking that your actions would never catch up to you, but you had expected to never see eren ever again after that night. but the following months would be spent interweaved in each other. labels weren’t yet decided, so they changed depending on the day; on random evenings, you were eren’s alibi—voice shaking as you lied for him, assuring his parole officer that you’d been watching movies together when, in reality, you hadn’t even known where he was. and, on saturdays, your lap served as his most comfortable pillow as the incomprehensible words you read from your favourite book fell onto his face from above him.

but skipped classes, and unexplainable disappearances meant you soon found yourself under heavy surveillance. from being driven to and from uni, to not being allowed to meet friends, and being basically trapped in your home. the joy shared between eren and yourself had been for you two only. seemingly, the portions hadn’t been distributed evenly meaning that your friends and family sat with plates full of disdain and worry, prepared for a boy they didn’t even know. all they saw of eren was his effect on you; increased callousness, tanking grades, and constant escapades that rendered you a ghost floating in and out of their lives. and soon there’d be a fury-fuelled war waged between two sides; one side that hated eren for ruining you, and the other that hated your family for taking you from his grasp just as he was about to pull you from heaven into his unprincipled clutches.

unfortunately for your friends and family, armageddon couldn’t stop eren from trying to reach you. no matter how many times you denied him, he’d try his luck at getting to you through any means necessary; he’d call you, text at stupid hours of the night asking you sneak out, this boy even disguised himself as a delivery driver just to see you. but every single advance was (very reluctantly!) declined; calls rejected, texts ignored, and, after gathering yourself, you’d tell him that you hadn’t ordered anything and he had the wrong house. bottom lip in between your teeth, to combat the tears hanging over your waterline, you’d closed the door, taken a deep breath, before making your way upstairs to text him an essay of an apology.

that day, you forbode eren from coming to you but, as anyone who knew eren would tell you, he’d never been good at following instructions. so you’d be doing your uni work, when you’d hear loud ass music playing outside. expecting more self-control from eren, there wouldn’t even be a second where you thought it’d be him. even when incessant honking began, you’d ignore it and continue trying to replenish your plummeting gpa. and you’d succeed at keeping focused. until you heard a small knock on your door.

“y/n, you know that guy?”, your brother asked you.

“what guy?”, a finger pointing to the window would be your brother’s answer. and your limbs would freeze at the sight of the black hellcat outside, but they’d be quick in moving you once you saw eren’s car door start to open. by the time you opened your front door, eren was walking up your driveway and his determined gaze would soften once it landed on you. that was before he saw the frustrated presentation of your features as you marched towards him, then he’d just chuckle at you. both hands flat on his back, you’d push eren back to his car as he laughed and questioned you. but he’d get no answers until you shoved him against the car—his back facing your house—and started lecturing him,

“why are you here?”, you’d chide through clenched teeth.

“what, i can’t come see you?”, he’d ask, leaning on his car and reaching for your hand. stress would have you moving your hands from his own, as you rolled your eyes at him.

“not at my family home, eren, no!”, you’d let out an exasperated sigh, “are you out of your damn mind?! coming here and making all this noise, just because you ‘want to see me’?”,

“i miss us, y/n”, he’d say, eyes flittering all over your face as they examined your vexed expression. at this point, the anger was just a shield protecting you from his words because you knew that as soon as they penetrated your skin to enter your heart, you’d fold like a damn lawn chair. and, opportunistic as he was, eren would take the time you spent processing his confession as a chance to get sit his fingertips, one-by-one, on your hips. too deep in thought, you’d have no time to react before he pulled you closer to him.

“not now, eren.”, you’d instruct, placing your hands on top of his.

“you ain’t miss me?”, he’d tilt his head.

pretending not to want eren did nothing but spur him on. mainly because he knew that there was a mutual longing keeping you two connected. as harsh as you tried to be, eren could feel your internal conflict in your movements—the sour irritation in your words was no match for the way your body instinctually yielded to his touch. it’d be still as eren’s arms enveloped you, his heart joyous at the feeling of your body weight slowly increasing—your every appendage relaxing onto him. naturally, he’d grow smug and pull back to slyly observe the way he knew you’d chase his lips, just like every other time he stopped kissing you, and he’d grin to himself.

“i did, but not here.”, you’d shake your head, “not like this”, you’d say. and, in a successful attempt to still your head, eren’s hands would cup your cheeks before he gently pressed his lips against yours. there’d be a split second where your body would try and move you away from him but, as soon as his tongue gently grazed your bottom lip, you’d neglect your surroundings—hands massaging the back of his neck, as you pulled him closer.

“why not?”, he’d ask, quietly. his fervid gaze possessed enough heat to turn you into a patch of liquid, very similar to the one in the front of your underwear. and, though composure wouldn’t come easy to you, you’d grapple for it anyways, moving from him and ignoring the smirk on his face as he watched you.

©2023 nanaminsmooninc. All rights reserved. You may not copy, reproduce, or modify works without permission.

“you know why, now get off me before i scream and get the police called on your dumbass”, the feigned innocence would break and eren would outright laugh at your threat. enthralled eyes would watch the joy spread all over his face, the feeling contagious as you slowly felt the corners of your lips rise. that’d be before you realised where you were, and quickly moved your hand to cover his mouth to muffle the bellowing sound.

“i wouldn’t mind hearing you scream.”, he’d say after removing your hand from his face, “it’d make driving here worth it.”, he teased. and, once again, you’d be falling into his deep green eyes, beguiled by his intoxicating gaze. reminders of reality would only come when a quick flicker of your eyes to the building behind eren’s car revealed your front door opening. equally as curious as the young boy stood at the door, eren would turn but you’d quickly shoo your brother back inside, originally aiming to follow him.

“just gimme 5 minutes”, a low voice would ask, stopping you in your tracks. eren’s recklessness always seemed to rub off on you. perhaps remnants of it latched onto you when he held you close to himself, or maybe his lips spoke it to you as he kissed you. but, without fail, it’d rid you of everything you thought you knew about yourself. and it’d also have you following him into the backseat of his car.

though it was never expressed to you, you were just as much of a forbidden fruit for eren as he was for you. a chair occupied by thoughts of your chaste nature had anxiously sat in his heart, as the thought of his sodden fingerprints being the ones to pervert you spun around his mind. that was until eren placed your hands on the back of said chair, bending you over it and making his peace with sending you back to your parents with his depraved handprints, and debauched lip prints singed all over your body. forbidden as you may have been, eren couldn’t get enough of you. you were a banned berry that he couldn’t help but sink his teeth into, letting the taste of you reside in every corner of his mouth—your juices slipping out of the corners of his lips as you squirmed, and scratched at his leather seats. no more than a few minutes passed with you on eren’s lap, his lips busy marking your neck and chest—any regard for your parents’ reactions was absolved the moment your fingers intertwined at his nape to lightly tug at his hair. the only thought on his mind for weeks had been the taste of you, so he’d wasted no time in moving his lips from you and laying you flat on your back on his backseats. and your comprehension of any moment that followed that was wiped out by the tsunami of pleasure that flooded your conscious mind, as well as the white flash that accompanied it stealing your vision. the last thing you remembered was eren’s eyes—locked on yours—as his teeth plucked at your panties, pulling them down your thighs.

for most, self-reflection would be triggered by the fact that their partner’s friends and family hated them with a scorching passion, but not eren. he welcomed the scrutiny with open arms because, as toxic as it sounded, he had learned to love being a terrible influence. he luxuriated in being the guy your friends begged you to leave, those conversations always ending in teary arguments wherein you’d have to fight to justify your want for him. he loved knowing that even as every mouth around you told you to stay far away from him, his devious one always brought you right back. that, sweet as you were, you were addicted to the nasty way he fucked you; bent over in his car, or anywhere he could hide you from prying eyes. and the fact that, with every load he filled you with, droplets of his identity had been inserted into you with all of them being preserved perfectly, with not an ounce of alteration. whether that be his attitude, or his need to fuck the sanity out of you, you resembled eren more and more with every connection of his tip and your cervix. slowly, your vocabulary had matured to match his and you had started using words he’d never expect to hear from such a pretty, innocent-looking face,

“ffuck, i’ve missed this dick so much, eren”, you’d keened, ridding eren of any rational thought. his hips would hasten on their own at the sound of your lascivious wording, deepening every breath your lungs fought to take. and, as good as you felt, corrupting a good girl had never been something eren had wanted to do. usually, he liked his girls experienced, but you had a charm about you.

he liked the way your eyes glimmered at him as he spoke to you, and the adorable way you remembered small details about him. after a while, he began enjoying the way he was disintegrating every single value your parents had instilled in you, as well as you just letting him. but no more than the way you moaned his name, and made lust-filled promises that disgraced the parents who had worked so hard to raise you,

“i’m all yours, ‘ren, i belong to nobody but you”, you’d cried out, and he’d gently kiss your cheek. the romantic work of his lips, was in direct opposition to the cruel way his dick hit that spongy spot inside you, coaxing your release from you and refusing to stop.

“i know, baby, you ain’t gotta tell me. i know. you’re all mine, and can’t nobody do shit about it.”, he'd reply. and he was right. because, as long as he made you feel the way he did, eren was untouchable. whether that be for 5 minutes, or for the rest of your life.

[huhniebowl]

Pink

dominic fike x reader

warning(s): smutty smut smutt yo, try at some plot yet again, lil long and all that…this filthy yall

a/n: there's for sure a ton of grammar edits that need to be made, so bear with me while i work on them! i can never seem to catch them all first day

enjoy, thanks to this yummy ass freaky ass request lmao 💗 sorry it took so long, i'm a slow writer...

¥

You sit between Dominic, your thighs spread and thrown over his legs. 

He lays back against the headboard, pink blankets, and furry throw pillows around the two of you as he trails his hands up your quivering legs. 

Your canopy, a sheer pink fabric floating above your bed, does little to hide the two of you. 

His warm palm contradicts the chill of the rings littering his fingers–and it makes you jolt when they caress your inner thigh.

He’s fully dressed. 

A well-worn leather jacket, its surface scuffed and softened with time, hangs open over a plain fitted t-shirt, showing his solid build underneath. And jeans, their denim rough against the smooth skin of your legs. 

The build-up to this wasn’t the most ideal. A lot of pent-up frustration. 

He’d asked you to come with him to his YSL after-party. Usually, you'd be ready to transform yourself into his arm candy for the night, the touch of his hand lingering on your lower back as you walked into the club with him. 

But this time, a different kind of excitement bubbled within you – your best friend's birthday party. 

You'd promised weeks ago to go clubbing with her and some friends, and the thought of letting her down felt worse than seeing the frown that started creasing your boyfriend's forehead. 

A tense silence stretched over the two of you. 

"You're going out with them again?" his voice was flat, a stark contrast to his usual playful tone. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. 

"It's Aria's birthday, Dom," you say, jutting your hip and leaning your weight to your right leg. "I promised weeks ago."

"This is the third time this month you’ve blown me off," he countered, sucking his teeth. "It's a big night for me. You fuckin’ know that man!” 

A part of you understood, a nagging guilt prickling at your conscience. Maybe if you’d mentioned her birthday earlier, things could have been different.

But you also had a life, commitments you couldn't break at the last minute. Silence stretched between you again before you stated you were going for a shower, not having the energy for an argument. 

You came out of the bathroom to an empty apartment, and anger started to simmer beneath your skin. 

No goodbye kiss, no I love you. 

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself. Tonight was about Aria. Not you, and not your pissy boyfriend. You wouldn't let his actions ruin your night. 

Glancing at your phone, you switched it off. Letting silence and your disconnect speak for you. You hope he got the message. 

He did. 

Swaying slightly, you walked back into your apartment, the gems stitched into your tight two-piece glimmering in the warped light of the city skyline that was bleeding in through your windows.  

It was your skimpiest set, one that usually earned a cheeky ass grab from Dominic.  

You’d only worn it once and promised only to wear it when going out with him. 

Which is why he clenched his jaw and exhaled through his nose when he saw you saunter in through the door at two am in that same set—reaching for the wall to peel off your boots. 

Completely oblivious to his presence. 

He watched as a giggle escaped your lips when you turned to look at yourself in the hallway mirror. 

Your mascara and eyeliner smudged and the glitter eyeshadow you'd swiped from Aria’s makeup bag, migrated into tiny, shimmering stars under your eyes. 

Your eyes are red and lidded, a remnant from the blunt you and Aria hotboxed her car with before she dropped you off. 

Combined with the tequila swirling in your system, you were in a heady euphoria. Ready for sleep, the comfort of your pajamas, and your bed.

Breathing a content sigh, you turned towards the living room, and your playful smile vanished the moment your eyes met your boyfriend's sprawled form on the couch.

The two tequila shots sloshed comfortably in your stomach, but the weed buzzed a different kind of energy through you. Your limbs felt light, almost detached, and the edges of the room seemed hazy,

Dominic being the only thing your mind was processing. 

Your argument replayed in your mind, a sour note against the fuzzy high. He sat with his hands clasped loosely in his lap, legs sprawled, and his posture slouched. 

His gaze roamed your body, lingering a second too long on your nipples poking through the thin fabric of your top, before flicking back up to meet your eyes. 

He looked pissed, and a chill of satisfaction wisped over you. 

With an off balanced sway in your hips, you stumble over to him, ready to piss him off more than he already looked. 

The closer you got, the air hung heavy with the acrid scent of a strain you’re familiar with. He was high, pupils dilated and glassy, mirroring yours. 

There was an edge to him, a dangerous undercurrent, and it only fueled your ego. A twisted knot of pleasure growing in your chest knowing you were the reason for it. 

You grinned, throwing one leg on either side of his thighs, straddling him on the couch. Dominic lifts his eyes to yours, staring you down despite being under you. 

You feel his body flex under you.  

“Awh, you look pissed baby.” you pouted, voice dripping with mock sympathy. You tilted your head to the side raking your acrylics through his hair, and pushing it back from his face. His eyebrow piercing glinted when his head knocked to the side under the aggression of your hand. 

The saccharine dripping from your voice was enough to curdle milk. "What’s wrong? You can tell Mama." you cooed, nodding with fake concern.  

Dominic's jaw clenched, a flicker of something like a warning sparking in his eyes before he let out a humorless laugh, licking his bottom lip and looking away from your face. 

His leg started to bounce, a telltale sign of his patience wearing thin.

You weren't sure where this new attitude came from, but a thrill snaked through you as you realized you were effectively getting under his skin. 

The earlier fight still hung heavy for you, and you found yourself reveling in this power trip. 

Before he could pull away, your hand tightened around the fist full you had of his hair and yanked him back to face you. 

"Oh, I think I know," you purred. "Is Dommy mad that I turned my phone off?" You pouted again, the childish facade at odds with the glint in your eyes. 

"Yeah, that's what it is, isn't it? Or is it because I wore your favorite little two-piece without you?” 

You pulled his head back so his adams apple was barred, “Maybe next time don’t leave without acknowledging me first, yeah?” 

You leaned in, lips hovering over Dominic’s. You could smell the mint and alcohol in his breath, before moving to his ear. 

“Fuck you.” You whispered, patting his cheek with a smile. 

Pleased, you moved to get off him but halted when his hand grabbed at your hips and squeezed tight, forcing you back. You gasped at the sudden pressure, wincing slightly when he pressed harder over the bone. 

“Are you fucking stupid?” Before you could sass him back, Dominic’s hand flew to your neck and pressed at the pleasure points on the side of your throat.

“Oh come on, you didn’t expect me to let you talk to me like that?” Your clit pulsed, this is a side of your boyfriend you’d never seen. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t getting worked up by his attitude. You pressed down on his lap and felt his dick hard and poking under his jeans–a grin spread across your lips. 

“But you like it,” You wrapped your fingers around his hand on your neck, and slightly squeezed, not breaking eye contact. “Don’t you Dommy?” 

And now you’re in your current position.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy,” Dominic mutters. The hand that’s not working your thigh, sliding down your top to fondle your tits. Your nails dig into his leg, a whimper leaving your lips.

“You know better than that.” He flicks your clit through your shorts, and a pathetic squeal comes out of your throat at the pain. This was a side you weren’t familiar with, a side of him you didn’t know he could tap into. You’re unsure how to act, but a sick thrill washes over you. 

“Dom please,” You breathe, “I didn’t mean—.”Dominic tuts, and muffles you with the palm of his hand. 

“Yeah, you did, baby.” he slips his hand into your shorts and presses two fingers against your swollen clit, rubbing soft circles that causes your breath to catch. He’s barely applying pressure, just toying with you. 

“No panties huh?” he tilted his head back, nostrils flaring as he expelled a long breath. The movement sent a shiver down your spine, and your stomach lurched. 

You suck in a shaky breath, lips parting to defend yourself when his fingers tap on your lips with surprising force. He pushes them through and lets his middle and index fingers press down your tongue.

“Learn to just shut the fuck up.” he runs his tongue along the top of your ear and is quick to move his hand up from your shorts–pressing on your abdomen to bring you down when your hips buck up.

“Fuck!” you whine around his fingers, head lolling to the side, hand squeezing at his leather jacket. 

He chuckles and tugs your shorts off, and he lands a smack against your sticky cunt before you can sigh in relief at finally having your shorts off. 

Your vision blurs for a second, the sharp sting lacing through you. Your eyes fly shut, a surprised gasp leaving you. Fingers twitching. You’ve never felt this before, and your pussy tingles in want at the pleasured pain. 

“You really wanted to piss me off tonight, huh?” his voice comes out scratchy and low. Like a threat, and you can’t help the way your cunt throbs. “Just needed everyone’s fuckin’ attention.”

You try to jerk your thighs close, but Dom’s quicker than you. Firmly gripping the meat of your thigh, and forcefully pressing down your right from the left. 

His fingers still loosely hang out the side of your mouth, your spit slick across the side of your face. Your pussy leaks, both from pain and arousal, and you’re desperate for more. 

Moving you around so that your legs are spread wider Dom pins you firmly against his chest.

“You don’t even deserve this.” he finally applies pressure to your clit, and your chest stutters. Sweat coats your body in a thin sheen making you appear dewy under the lit skyline pouring through your room window.

Dominic hooks his chin over your shoulder and peers his eyes down to your soaked cunt. He spreads your lips with his pointer and ring finger, the sound lewd. Your juices glimmer in the low light and Dom’s cock twitches in his jeans. 

“Fuck, look at that,” he whispers, using the pad of his middle finger to just barely brush over your pearl. Your body quivers, fingers spazzing when you throw your head back against Dom’s shoulder. 

“I—” You stutter, trying to find words. 

“Hm?” He taunts, pulling his fingers away from your pussy and to his lips. You whimper at the loss of contact, eyes blown wide when Dominic makes a show of sucking off fingers. He opens his eyes just barely, and peers over at you. “Where’d all that mouth go?” 

You try to speak again, but your mind blanks when the sound of Dominic’s belt unclasping filters through your ears. In a swift movement, he’s sliding out from behind you and removing his hand from your mouth. 

Immediately you find yourself missing his heat and the heavy pressure of his fingers on your tongue. 

Cool air rushes to your back where he once was and you shiver. 

“God, you really don’t deserve this.” he reiterates, as he removes his jeans. His shirt and jacket follow suit. You watch him in a daze, thrumming in anticipation. 

Just moments ago you were asserting dominance, and now your brain can’t process anything but the man undressing at the foot of your bed. He’s a stark contrast to the pink of your room. He looks out of place, despite being right where you need him. 

He crawls back to you, and for the first time today, Dominic catches your lips in a searing kiss. Your mouths clash in a hungry mesh of spit and tongue. Your highs make everything sloppy and disoriented, and so so good. Blindly grabbing, and taking each other apart. 

Your hand tangles in his curls, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck and earning a grunt that you eagerly swallow. 

Take take take. You want all of him. 

You wander your fingers over the expanse of his body, nails dipping into the ridges of his stomach before slipping into his boxers, and wrapping your hand around his dick. 

Dom shutters, and he pulls away from your lips to grab your wrist–his grip tight in warning. 

“You don’t learn.”  His breath fans hot over your lips, slick with your shared spit. 

“Please Dom, just, please.” You’re downright whimpering at this point, pleading for him. Gone is your attitude from earlier, and Dominic laughs right in your face. It’s pitiful and he grins. 

“Awh, what's wrong princess?” His forehead creases, mock concern seeping out of his words, and then he dips his head down to nose at the sensitive spot of your neck, just under your ear. 

“You can tell Daddy.” He nods, curls tickling your cheek. 

Dominic mocks your words from earlier, moving your wrist above your head. Your free hand twitches under his chest, not quite touching, just hanging in the air. Unsure if he wants you touching him.

You’re scared, and so turned on. Pussy fluttering around nothing. 

“Oh, I think I know.” Dom releases your wrist and yanks you back by your hair, baring your throat out to him. Just like you did. 

“You want me to fuck you. That it?” 

You do. So bad. You’re not sure how much more you can take anymore, which is why you’re surprised when you feel your eyes get hot. You’ve never been brought to this point before, and you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to leave this headspace. 

You nod your head rapidly, tears glossing your eyes over. “ Yes, please, Dom. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, peering up at him with how he has your head positioned, and swallowing when you watch the side of his lip twitch up. 

“Maybe next time don’t bitch at me, huh?” He pats your cheek twice, just like you did. It stings a little, and your thighs twitch.

Dominic tilts his head to the side, hair sliding to the right with him. He simpers and says nothing. You feel your face start to burn, feeling so small under him like this, a hot tear streams down the side of your face. 

You watch Dom’s eyes follow it with rapt attention, and you part your lips ready to say something, anything, when his eyes snap back to yours and you feel the tip of his cock pushing its way into your throbbing pussy. 

Your eyes roll, and your mouth hangs open. A silent gasp stuck in your throat. 

You’ve fucked your boyfriend many times before. But this, this, is new. Feeling him like this was new, the bated breath, the heat, the intensity of it all. 

You feel him everywhere all at once, your body pulsating, ears feeling as if they're stuffed with cotton. 

You feel hot, molten almost, but you’re shivering. 

Dom bends your neck back further and nods his head while pushing himself in. Inch by inch you feel him filling you up.

His face is hovering over yours, as he watches you. Lips open and brush over your own as he loses himself in your heat. 

“Mhm, that’s it, baby. You feel me?” Dominic mutters against your mouth, and you wither, mindlessly lifting a hand to grab hold of his in your hair. 

You can’t speak, your brain is mush. Not a single thought processing. You feel full, the stretch one that you’ll never get enough of. He’s thick and heavy, and it’s almost too much. 

Then he snaps his hips, and you slur out a curse. A long drawn-out whine works its way out your throat and you squeeze your eyes. If you were in your right mind, you’d almost be embarrassed that such a sound left you. But you aren’t. 

Dominic snaps his hips one more time, and then he’s fucking you as if he’s on borrowed time. His hips grind quick and hard. He untangles his hand from your hair and interlaces it with one of yours, before tucking himself securely in your neck. 

He presses closer to you, and you wrap your legs around his waist. Ankles locked tight, and his heavy grunts fall into your neck. 

He’s a mess of praise and curses, your bodies sticking together and the smell of sex hot in the air. 

Your body jolts up with each thrust and you use your free arm to wrap around Dom’s back. Your acrylics scratch into his skin as you try to ground yourself. 

But you need more. 

“More, Dom,” You whimper out. “Please.”

He’s manhandling you around before your mind could process it. Head lifted from your neck as he turned you over on your stomach in a heated frenzy. 

Your face is mushed into your pillows at the foot of your bed, ass perked up.

“Never satisfied are you?” Dom grunts, slipping back inside you and giving you just what you asked for. He leans down so he’s molded to the shape of your back, and grabs hold of your throat from behind. 

You’re being fucked dumb, have no idea what you’re saying. If you’re even saying anything at all. Body tingling everywhere. 

“You feel so good, baby. So good for me.” Dominic praises, reveling in how good your pussy sucks him in. How warm and gummy you feel around him. Squeezing him just right. 

You’re both intertwined with pleasure, in a conjoined headspace that you hope never ends. You don’t even know how you both got to this point anymore. What you were arguing about in the first place.  Just that you want to keep fucking like this, want to always feel him like this. 

You start to feel yourself getting lifted off the mattress and then you’re on your knees, Dominic’s front still molded to your back. He reaches around and squeezes your right tit, fingers rolling your nipple. 

You reach back and grip his hair when he starts leaving messy kisses down the side of your throat. 

“Look. Look at yourself while I fuck you.” Dom orders, his voice vibrates through you and it takes all you have to peel your eyes open to see yourself through the mirror. 

It’s in the corner of your room, and you can only see the side of you and Dom as he snaps his hips into you. Your eyes lock with him through the mirror. He’s already staring at you through his lashes, hair wet and sticking to his forehead. His gaze is primal, something wicked and you feel your stomach start to tighten, pussy spazzing around him. 

“Oh fuck m’ gonna cum. Gonna cum.” you slur. 

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me?” He moves down to start rubbing tight circles on your clit, and you arch your back, throwing your head back against his shoulder. A chorus of yes’s. 

“Look.” He grunts again, hand moving off your neck to firmly grip your jaw and force your face back to the mirror. You look a fucking mess.

That coil in your tummy tying a knot so tight, you’re not sure you’re ready for it to snap. But you need it too. Need it so fucking bad. 

You bring a hand to grip Dom's arm that's resting on your abdomen, toes curled tight. 

“Right there, right there!” You squeal, feeling yourself weaken in his hold. Dom feels it too, and pushes you back down into your sheets, his pace harder in the new position. His arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding your middle half in a slight arch. 

“Cum for me, you can do it. Make me cum.” He’s whispering in your ear, “So fuckin’ close, cum with me baby.” 

And the pleasure that’s been brewing, thrumming throughout your body, breaks. 

You cum hard, Dominic’s name high-pitched and breathless when you reach down to tightly grip the corner of your mattress. Back arched high like a cat. 

Your pussy clamps down on Dom, walls spasming around his dick, and it sets him off. His struggles to close his eyes, they’re lidded as he drunkenly loses himself in your pussy, chasing his orgasm. 

You watch him through your mirror with low eyes. Watch as his mouth drops open. Watch as he drops onto you, squeezing you tight when he finally cums. Painting your walls white, and filling you up. 

You're both panting, trying to catch your breath. Dom starts to pepper kisses on the side of your face, and you turn your head to catch his lips. It’s slower than the one you shared earlier. Heavy with I’m sorry, and I love you. 

You pull away first, watching as a smile takes over his face. The position you’re in is awkward, but you both couldn’t care less right now. You reach around as best you can and brush his hair back from his eyebrow, softly rubbing your thumb over the piercing. 

“So, how was clubbing without me? Boring huh?” You grin a shit-eating grin, and Dom rolls his eyes when you start laughing. 

“Fuck off.”

[tkaulitzlvr]

2008 tom forcing reader to answer a call from her bf while they're secretly fucking, going faster and whispering dirty things in her ear as shes on call to tease her, making it harder for her to not to make any noise🤭🤭

btw I love ur writings sm, one of my fav writers fr😩

thankyouu😽🙏🏻

ANSWER IT - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: your boyfriend calls you at a pretty inconvenient time, but tom forces you to answer, and you have to disguise what is really happening, tom not making it easy for you.

content: smut

a/n: thank u so much anon! and oh my god this req is such a good idea, literally as soon as i saw it i knew it was gonna be the next one i write, and i had so much fun making this so thank u so much for requesting i hope u like it!!💞

come over, no one else is home. 10:47pm

i stared at the text message as it came through, the words looking back at me, contemplating on whether i should give in or not. my mind, the more rational, morally correct side of me, tells me that i should say no, reminding me that i have a boyfriend, who would be home from his business trip in just a couple of hours. but, the fact that my heart should have belonged to someone else had never stopped me before. my heart was more reckless, making rash decisions that spoke only for my impulses, not the part of me that felt guilty for what i had been doing for the past few months, completely unbeknownst to my boyfriend.

it was never meant to turn out like this, no. what was firstly settled as a ‘drunk mistake’ that my boyfriend wouldn’t have to know about became a sober fuck, one that happens at least once a week. i am hooked, unable to stay away from tom despite the constant nagging that reminds me how much of an evil person i am. but my guilty conscience is not strong enough to win me over, so i keep going back, completely addicted to the way tom feels, my boyfriend unable to give me the same satisfaction.

he is kind, loyal, loving. i don’t deserve him, really. he would come home from work every evening, completely oblivious of the fact that another man had been inside of me just hours before, intimate with me in the bed that we would sleep in every night - he knows nothing about any of it.

and it is this that reminds me that i should decline tom’s offer, my eyes still blazing into the phone screen as the message stares at me. i have a boyfriend, this is wrong. the voice inside of my head says, chanting it over and over, convincing me to make the right decision for once, instead of acting purely on desire. he would be heartbroken if he ever found out, he doesn’t deserve this. my conscience continues, on the brink of winning me over, the shame of what i have become sinking into me, nothing about this entire thing justifiable on my part. i can put a stop to this, do the right thing, all i need to do is say the word.

k, i’ll be over soon. 10:51pm

i sigh, a little embarrassed at my lack of self-control, knowing that tom has me wrapped around his finger, unable to decline his invitation. the blood is on my hands, staining my innocence, and i am far too into this to ever go back to the way things once were. i jump out of bed, rushing over to the mirror and inspecting my appearance. my makeup is a little messed up, so i take time fixing it, making sure i look perfect for tom, adjusting my hair after, removing any knots in at as it falls to my shoulders. finally satisfied, i grab my keys, leaving the apartment and locking the door behind me, making my way to the parking lot.

i unlock my car, climbing in cautiously, checking that my boyfriend hadn’t unexpectedly arrived home early before turning off my location on my phone, getting used to doing these things to avoid getting caught as much as i could. the car engine starts with a low hum, radio quietly sounding out in the background as i drive to tom’s house, the guilt soon fading away as excitement buzzes around me.

the familiar house comes into view, but i park a little further down the street, not wanting to make it obvious that i was there in case my boyfriend did find out where i was. the street is dark as i climb out of my car, locking it before quickly walking towards his house, checking behind me and knocking on the door.

tom opens it within a few seconds, smirking whilst looking me up and down, moving to the side and giving me room to walk in. he shuts the door behind him, not wasting any time as he pushes me forcefully against the wall, attaching his lips to mine.

“missed you.” he mutters into the kiss as i whine a little in response, already too into it to give him a proper answer, but judging by the way his hands travel down my back, squeezing my ass firmly, it doesn’t seem like he wants to do much talking anyways.

but i didn’t mind, our hookups strictly sexual, no romance behind them. sure, he would whisper things into my ear in the heat of the moment, but i knew that it didn’t mean anything, and i didn’t want it to either. despite betraying my boyfriend in the most evil way possible, i didn’t want to end things with him, somehow still feeling something towards him though he could never pleasure me the way tom does.

without breaking the kiss, tom’s hands hook around my thighs, lifting me upwards as i instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, our lips moving against each other’s as he carries me to his bedroom, my hands locked around his neck, arms resting on his shoulders.

my back collides with the bed as he places me onto it, his hand flush against my back for support as he falls onto it with me, our lips never breaking, his body now on top of mine. he clearly doesn’t want to tease me, his hands finding the bottom of my hoodie, pulling it off and leaving it somewhere on his carpet, leaving me in only my shorts and small pink bra. he smirks at my lack of clothing, drinking it all in whilst his fingers play with the waistband of my shorts. he takes them off too, seeing that my panties match the bra, his tongue moving to the corner of his mouth.

“all this for me, hm?” he smirks, moving my thighs apart and leaning downwards, cupping my breasts in his hands, squeezing them slightly as i let out a small moan, blushing at his words and nodding my head. “i bet he doesn’t touch you like i do, get you to put in all this effort for him.”

tom continues to taunt me, the mention of my boyfriend causing my heart to wrench, guilt settling in my stomach as it is enough to remind me how much of a bad person i am. but, the second tom pulls his t-shirt off, revealing his toned frame, adorned with muscle in all the right places, his abs on full display, any thought of my boyfriend is long gone, my eyes and mind only focused on what is in front of me - the view admittedly far better than anything he could ever give.

tom reconnects our lips, his tongue entering my mouth, hips beginning to grind against mine at a torturously slow pace, hands moving to swiftly unclip my bra. i start to become impatient, fingers toying with the waistband of his jeans as i scramble for the button, undoing them as his zipper follows. he sees that i am struggling, tugging them down himself and letting his boxers come off with them.

he moves my panties to the side, not even bothering to pull them down, before sliding into me, a long moan escaping from my lips as i feel him stretch my walls, already feeling so full.

“so fucking tight, always so good.” he mutters, his forehead against mine, his breath tickling my nose as he speaks, a choked moan sounding from his lips as he is fully inside. he waits a second, studying my expression, gauging that i am okay as he almost pulls out fully, before slamming into me unexpectedly.

my breathing is heavy, body glistening with sweat as i hold onto him, my hands raking down his back as his pace speeds up, becoming more fast and relentless. i am so far gone, in too much pleasure to even process anything that is happening around me - including the sound of my phone beginning to ring.

tom, however, notices immediately, picking it up from the bedside table whilst still thrusting into me, my eyes following his movements as i am too lost in ecstasy to ask what he is doing. he turns the phone, showing me who is calling. my eyes widen as i shake my head, signalling for him to put it down, not wanting him to stop.

“answer it.” is all he says, passing the phone to me, one hand on my hips, helping him to move in and out of me easier, whilst the other holds the phone to my ear. he accepts the call, smirking as my boyfriend’s voice can faintly be heard.

“baby? hey, uh, i just got home from work. where are you?” he asks, tom nodding his head, gesturing for me to speak. a knowing smirk spreads across his face as he speeds up his thrusts, my teeth sinking into my lips to prevent a moan that is dangerously close to spilling from them.

“h-hey love.” i pant, trying to sound nonchalant, failing miserably as i feel tom hit my g-spot, a muffled whine sounding from the back of my throat.

“what are you doing? you okay?” my boyfriend asks, his tone laced with confusion.

“sorry uh- my back is sore, the usual.” i manage to get out, quickly closing my mouth as tom stares into my eyes, enjoying the way i struggle, showing no sympathy as he only drills into me faster. “i’m- i’m at my mom’s house.”

the excuse is terrible, tom furrowing his brows once i utter the words, making me realise how unbelievable it is. but, he finds my lack of thought amusing, smiling a little before resting his head in the crook of my neck, planting rough, open-mouthed kisses there. i sigh out in response, quickly covering my mouth as i mentally curse my self.

“your mom’s place? what are you doing there? it’s like nearly midnight.” my boyfriend responds, clearly hesitant to buy my excuse.

“yeah, family emergency. i-i’ll…be home in the morning-” i have to stop my speech, pursing my lips shut as a moan is dangerously close to sounding from them.

tom smirks against my neck, goosebumps forming on the skin whilst his lips curve into a slight smile.

“look at you. getting fucked whilst your boyfriend is on the phone.” tom mutters, his voice low as he makes sure that his words can’t be made out through the phone. “so wrong. but you love it, don’t you, hm? fucking slut.”

tom continues to taunt me, paying attention to the way i bite my lip, or place my tongue on the roof of my mouth, even squeeze his upper arms, anything to stop any noise from coming out of my mouth, desperate to stay undetected.

“what? is everything okay?” my boyfriend asks, showing concern as he tries to extend the situation, much to my annoyance, unable to keep this up for much longer, wanting nothing more than to cry out in pleasure. “should i come-”

“no!” i quickly say, a little harsher than i initially intended to, the utterance a mix of desperation and an attempt to hold back a moan, the combination coming out as an abrupt plea. “i mean- she, she’s just…a little overwhelmed.”

tom begins to kiss the skin below my ear, biting at it gently, knowing this spot drives me crazy, and once i shiver a little, he knows that he has me right where he wants me, changing his thrusts a little as the new angle causes a familiar knot to build in my stomach.

“could he make you feel like this, hm? only i can, right baby?” he whispers, knowing the effect that he has on me, no need for me to verbalise it, the way my eyes screw shut at his movements enough to confirm it. “so needy, letting me do this to you whilst he can hear. if only he knew…”

his words against my neck combined with the new angle makes the urge to moan almost unbearable as i bite down onto tom’s shoulder, a low grunt escaping his mouth at my unexpected action. yet it only fuels his stamina as he chuckles under his breath, enjoying the effect he has on me, the thrill of the entire situation turning him on even more.

“oh, just, let me know if you need anything okay? i love you.” my boyfriend says, finally wrapping up the conversation as i sigh in relief, feeling at ease as i have somehow managed to pull this off.

but tom clearly isn’t satisfied with how i have managed to stay quiet, desperate to get some sort of noise out of me, and, he knows exactly how to do that. one hand still holding the phone to my ear, he moves his other downwards, using it to rub circles on my clit whilst thrusting in and out of me. and that is all it takes for a restricted moan to leave my lips, unable to be mistaken for anything else. i know that i am in deep shit.

“what the fuck was that? what’s going on? are you fucking someone?” my boyfriend asks, his voice raising as he has finally picked up on what is going on.

“w-what? are you crazy? of course not!” i quickly say, panting through my words, no longer able to hide it, knowing that i am completely fucked.

“don’t fucking bullshit me! where the fuck are you? i can’t believe this, you’re fucking cheating on me? i swear to fucking god once i find-”

his furious rambling is cut off as tom ends the call, turning my phone off and throwing it somewhere on the bed, his hand now running up and down my waist.

“i did you a favour. he was fucking annoying anyways.” tom breathes out, a satisfied grin tugging on his lips, only faltering once he reconnects them with mine, the hurt of what had just happened never sinking in, tom’s movements more than enough to make me forget.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[tightjeansjavi]

⟡ sentiments n’ bubbly ⟡

A/N: so, this one another one of my post shower thoughts that has now transformed into this little fic 🥹 this time of the year is a struggle for myself and for others, and I hope it can bring us all a bit of peace before the new year 🤍

~word count: 4.5k~

pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: it’s NYE and you find yourself in Joel Miller’s coffee shop. He’s a firm believer that no one deserves to spend New Year’s Eve alone.

Warnings: angst, fluff, no age gap, discussions of self image issues, bullying, food/eating, language, anxiety, fear of social situations, fomo, mentions of therapy, NYE blues, self deprecating thoughts, flirting, meet-cute, no outbreak/modern day AU, Sarah and Tommy exist in this universe, soft!joel, mentions of alcohol, reader has no physical descriptions such as body type or skin color, some content included may be triggering for some as Joel and the reader have some very real conversations about life. +18 minors dni!

It’s New Year's Eve. The official last day of the year. A whole 365 days has come and gone, and yet, you find yourself feeling the same way you did last year. It wasn’t like you had a particularly terrible life or anything of the sorts, but you still had your struggles. Your daily contemplations over whether you were doing enough, being enough in your little life. You try to focus on all the good that happened in those 365 days of life.

All the laughter, smiles, the warm fuzzy feelings that you found yourself chasing more often than none. The bad times always find their way to trickle in and weasel into your conscience like an infection. The truth is that you know life comes with both good and bad memories. But why is it so hard to push back the bad? Why is it so easy to beat yourself down? You could have done this better, you shouldn’t have said the things you said, did you remember to turn your out of office on before you left the office?

Shit. There was that one email I didn’t get to.

Maybe you find yourself trying to cram in as many last minute tasks before the new year. Closet clean out? You haven’t worn that sweater in months..yet, you find yourself holding onto it because it was a gift from a dear friend, and you don’t want to unintentionally hurt their feelings by donating or regifting it.

Fridge clean out? Well, it does say that horseradish never expires..but you can never be too careful!

Clean your living space from top to bottom? Maybe next year you’ll invest in cleaner products for both the earth and your brain cells. Bleach can be awfully nasty to deal with.

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of you. Leftovers are your meal of choice for the evening. You spent hours cleaning your kitchen, and you’d rather not have to do another wipe down till tomorrow.

Hey, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us tonight? We’re leaving in an hour!

It's not that you don’t want to go out with your friends, it’s the steps before getting out the door that have always been a struggle for you.

What if my outfit doesn’t look the way I planned it out in my head?

What if I completely botch this makeup look?

What if the club is too packed?

You hate feeling this way, often thinking you’re a burden to your friends because you're constantly planning ahead of time. Living in the moment for you has always been tough. A gray area that sometimes you have found yourself making peace with, and other times you just wish you could be different.

You reach for your phone while you’re already mentally planning the steps in order to get ready in time. Being late is never an option, even when it’s just a fun night out in town.

Hey, I thought it over and I’d love to come out with you guys :) see you soon!

You send the text in a flash before tossing your half eaten slice of pizza onto the coffee table and rush to your room.

You tear up every inch of your closet looking for the perfect outfit. It's New Year’s Eve after all, and you want to be shimmering like a grand disco ball.

The outfit is on, and you look great! It turned out even better than you pictured it in your head. But the longer you stare in the mirror.

Fuck. Can’t I just turn my brain off for one night? Please?

And there it is, again. That gnawing little voice inside your head that pops up, gleaming and waving its hand just in case you forgot that it existed.

You aren’t actually going to wear that..are you?

It looks all wrong.

And you’re going to be freezing—

Your friends are going to look 10x better than you—

“ENOUGH!” You shout to no one in particular before you stomp off to the bathroom.

After taking a deep breath, you pull out your array of makeup from one of the bathroom drawers. Pinterest becomes your best friend again while you scroll to find a makeup look that screams you.

Bold. Glittery. Too much glitter?

There is never such a thing as too much glitter. You remind that little voice inside of your head.

Even with your ‘going out playlist’ on full blast, you feel your confidence begin to shrink and diminish as you stare at your painted face in the mirror. It’s not exactly like the picture you found on Pinterest, but there’s no time for you to change it now.

Your phone buzzes again, and this time it’s your friends sending you a group picture of all of them pregaming in their glittery outfits and bright smiles. You heart the message before typing back,

Wow, you guys look amazing! Please don’t be mad, I’m just not feeling up for it tonight. I hope you guys have a blast and stay safe! :)

Your friends understand, because they know that this has always been a struggle for you. A sore spot that hasn’t exactly quite healed the way you wish it had. It’s hard to dig yourself out of a hole that you dug, but you're grateful that they have always been so understanding.

No worries, we love you, and Happy New Year!

And all you feel is guilt.

But instead of wallowing away in your apartment, you grab your coat, purse and keys before making the final decision to go out.

You find yourself outside of a coffee shop just down the block from your apartment. You passed by it everyday during your commute to work, but you never found yourself going in, until now.

The coffee shop is found to be empty as most people are already out to dinner or at a party. It’s somewhat comforting that it’s just you and the lone barista who hadn’t heard you come in yet. His back is turned to you while he wipes down one of the counters, humming to himself as he moves about.

You're immediately drawn into how cozy everything feels. From the decor to the crackling fireplace to the soft music playing through the speakers.

The man turns then, towel gently grasped in his hand when he finally registers that he’s no longer alone. He takes in your attire, finding it odd that someone all dressed up for the evening found themselves here. Then he remembered how his daughter told him it’s rude to judge strangers because you never know what the next person is going through.

He smiles warmly instead. “Hey there, I was uh—jus’ about to close up for the evenin’ but can I get you anythin?’” He’s got a face that you already know you’re going to have a hard time forgetting. Strong built frame, yet soft in all the right places and despite his exterior appearing to be hardened, he seems friendly enough.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t noticed that you were closing up for the night..I don’t want to keep you here. I can always come back another time?”

He detects the way your face slightly begins to fall as he lightly taps his fingers along the counter top he just finished wiping down. “S’alright. I forgot to change the sign out front so that’s all on me. So, what can I get ya? It’s on the house.” He gestured to the menu board above his head.

You hesitated for a moment as you didn’t want to inconvenience this man who probably had his own New Year’s Eve plans to get to. “Are you..sure? I really don’t mind coming back another day.”

“S’alright, I promise. I don’t have anywhere important I need to be anyway.” He said with a slight shrug.

“No fun New Year's Eve plans? And I’ll take a cappuccino, please.” You stepped closer to the counter as you reached into your purse for your wallet.

“Nah. ‘Supposed to meet my brother at a bar nearby for a couple drinks, but he can wait a little longer.” He was already reaching his hand out to stop you from pulling out your wallet, when your eyes met his.

“For the tip.” You said with a smile while placing a couple five dollar bills into the tip jar.

“Oh, thank you. ‘Awfully kind of ya.” He responds softly, out of surprise because most people never bothered to tip. He might even be blushing a little..but he can’t really tell. Maybe it was just the steam from the espresso machine.

“It’s no problem. Gotta support small businesses, y’know?”

He nods in understanding. “Yeah, it’s the least people can do. Anyway, I’ll get that Cappuccino goin’ for ya. Feel free to sit wherever.” He gestured to the empty tables.

The table closest to the fireplace ended up being the one you ultimately chose. It happened to also be his favorite spot as well, go figure.

On any other occasion, Joel would call the customer's name once their drink was ready, but given the current circumstances..and the fact that he hadn’t asked for your name, bringing the coffee to you was perfectly acceptable.

“Here’s that Cappuccino for ya.” His voice drawled above you as he set the mug down in front of you. “Let me know if I can getcha anythin’ else. I’ll just be in the back finishin’ up with the cleanin.’”

“Thank you..” you start to say before realizing that you don’t know this man’s name either.

“Joel.” He clears his throat. “My name is Joel, and you are?..”

You tell him your name and he nods with a small smile.

You're left alone to your thoughts as his footsteps disappear behind the countertop once more. You can faintly hear him busying himself and putzing around as your cappuccino begins to cool without you realizing it.

You find yourself vacantly staring through the windows, and the dimly lit streets and passerby’s. You’ve always had a fond love for people watching and imagining what their lives were like. What their jobs and aspirations were. Did they have a family waiting for them? What made them happy? Would they be able to relate to you?

You don’t even hear Joel’s approaching footsteps nearing the table until he’s saying your name with an edge of concern in his voice because you’ve neglected to have a single sip of your cappuccino that has now become room temperature.

Your eyes meet his deep brown warm ones as your own sense of confusion washes over you.

“Is everythin’ alright? You haven’t touched your cappuccino at all..” he’s not offended, nor hurt, but the empath in him is genuinely concerned, even though you’re just a stranger in his coffee shop.

“Oh.” Your voice falls flat. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I guess I got lost in my own thoughts and completely forgot about it.” You feel bad, awful actually because he took the time to make you this drink, and all you had to do was just drink it—

“Hey, it’s alright. I find myself getting lost in my own thoughts as well. But, I can’t have ya drinkin’ a cold Cappuccino. I’ll make you a new one, alright? It’s no trouble at all.” He’s already reaching over to grab the mug.

“Joel, are you sure? You really don’t have to—”

He cuts you off reassuringly, “I insist. I won’t have my customer drinkin’ a cold Cappuccino on my watch. Ain’t no way.”

He disappears back behind the counter before you are able to protest. Joel returns 10 minutes later with two mugs in hand. You listen to the sound of the chair across from you scraping before he slowly sits down.

“I uh—hope you don’t mind me joinin’ ya? You jus’ seem like you could use some company, darlin.’ S’that alright for me to call you darlin?’”

He’s sweet like warm sticky molasses and honey. He actually might be the nicest guy you’ve met in a long long time.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all, Joel. I could actually use the company, and you can call me darling. That’s alright with me too.”

He smiles at you over the rim of his mug that is clasped between his hands. He gently blows on the billowing steam before he takes a small sip. “So, do you have any fun plans for the evenin’? I’m only assumin’ cus’ you’re all dressed up for a night out in town.” He gestures to your glittery getup that sparkles under the warm flames.

“Well, I did have plans to meet up with some friends tonight..but I wasn’t feeling up for it in the end and somehow ended up here.” You said with a sigh before taking a sip of your own Cappuccino. “This is delicious, by the way.”

“How come?..if ya don’t mind me askin?’ And I’m glad you’re enjoyin’ it. Tastes a lot better when it’s hot.”

The last thing you expected tonight was to engage in a conversation about your daily anxieties with this absolutely gorgeous man. Whom you just met, but crazier things have happened before.

“I don’t mind you asking, Joel. I just don’t want to burden you with my troubles or anything. Especially since I think they’re a bit silly and blown out of proportion.” Your eyes casted downwards into the mug.

“Hey, I doubt you can do that, and between you and me? I’ve heard it all. Got a teenage daughter who’s goin’ through all the things that I’m tryin’ to understand..but as a single father, it’s fuckin’ tough sometimes. But I’d be happy to act as a listenin’ ear for ya.” He genuinely means it, too.

“You have a daughter? How old is she? Teenagers can be a handful, that is very true.” You responded thoughtfully while leaning back against the chair.

You watch the way his eyes light up like a Christmas tree when you show a genuine interest in this man’s life. It’s sometimes a rare occurrence to meet a stranger who you feel like you can just immediately open up to without thinking too hard about it.

“She just turned 13 this year. She’s a good kid, super smart. The kinda kid that probably will end up growin’ up and changin’ the world. She’s..well, my world.” He clears his throat and you notice his dimple poking out in his cheek.

As if this man couldn’t become any more attractive.

“Anyway, she’s already goin’ through some friend and boy drama and it’s jus’ a lot to keep up with. Her mom ain’t in the picture either, so it’s not like I can turn to her for any guidance. She went to her first ever school dance this year in a dress that she picked out. The next thing I know, she’s callin’ me up in tears because some kids thought it was okay to make fun of how she looked. I know kids can be mean sometimes, but I wanted to go in there and teach those little shits a lesson myself.”

He was quite the protective father.

“Kids can be real bitches sometimes, Joel. I never quite understood it myself. Especially since I’m sure your daughter was just minding her own business and having a good time? I learned at a very young age that there’s a lot of jealous people in this world that enjoy causing pain in others for no apparent reason.They might have their own struggles, but that is no justification. Those kids that bullied your daughter will hopefully learn from their mistakes sooner rather than later.”

“She was just mindin’ her own and having a great time. She was so excited to wear her dress. It jus’ makes me so goddamn angry because I can’t protect her from everythin’ out there. It’s somethin’ that I’ve really struggled with this year especially. And I’ve tried to talk to my brother about it, but he doesn’t get it either.” Joel said with a sigh. “I’m glad that you can understand all of this though. I don’t really have any female friends to talk to about this stuff either.”

“Most kids grow out of their ‘mean’ phase after highschool. I can admit that I went through a phase similar to that. Made a lot of mistakes that I had to hold myself accountable for. But, with your love and support, I think your daughter is gonna end up being okay. She’s lucky to have you as a dad.” You reassure him.

“Really? You don’t seem like the type of person to ever hurt someone..then again, I ain’t perfect either. Never have been, never will. I’ve had my own regrets as well. But, I appreciate all that you’re sayin.’ S’Nice to be validated every now and then.” He leans forward with his elbows resting along the table and you’re just beginning to notice how broad his shoulders truly are under his faded flannel.

“I don’t think anyone can ever claim to be perfect. We don’t know everything and can make genuine mistakes. But all we can really do is learn from them, make it up to the people we may have hurt, and move forward. I think you’re a really nice person, based on our conversation, Joel.”

“You’re right, darlin.’ No one in this world can claim they are perfect. It's impossible.” His knee brushed yours gently from how close he was leaning in giving you a clear indication that he was actively listening to everything you were saying. “Anyway, I’m sorry I went off on that tangent jus’ now when we were talkin’ about your New Year’s Eve plans.”

“Dammit.” You sighed with a smile tugging on your lips. “I thought you forgot all about that.”

“Nah. I’m pretty good at rememberin’ even if I find myself havin’ to circle back. So, you didn’t feel up to meeting’ your friends tonight?”

“I was going to, truly. But I just got into my head way too much. It started with finding an outfit to wear. I absolutely tore my closet up and I’m really dreading having to clean it up later. Anyway, I’ve got the outfit on, right?”

He nods while taking another sip of his Cappuccino.

“I’m feeling great, and loving the way the outfit looks on me, and then there’s that stupid mean voice inside my brain. You know the one?”

“Ahh yeah. The voice that tells us that we’re unattractive and worthless? Like when we put on our favorite outfit and it’s not fitting quite right, and we know it’s silly to cry over clothes..but sometimes we just can’t help it? And that voice is right there beating us down because sometimes we forget that it’s natural for our bodies to change?”

Damn, he’s good.

“So...you hear that voice sometimes too? I honestly thought I was alone in this feeling. I tend to keep these thoughts to myself because I don’t want to burden others, y’know? I do see a therapist, though. It definitely has helped a lot, but I’m still struggling.”

“Darlin,’ I know exactly where you’re comin’ from. I had these favorite pairs of jeans that I would wear pretty much everyday. Well, just this past month I found that they ain’t fittin’ the way they used to. The zipper wouldn’t budge, and then I spent a good hour tryin’ all the tricks in the book to get those suckers to fit. Well, none of it worked and then I started beatin’ myself up. Sayin’ all the nasty names I could come up with. Then after all of that, I thought about all the delicious meals I had this year and especially these damn ice cream sundaes that my kid is obsessed with. Suddenly, the jeans not fittin’ didn’t bother me as much anymore.”

“Ice cream sundaes are delicious, and even more-so when you are enjoying them with your daughter. I pretty much went through the exact thing that you’re describing. I know that we shouldn’t give into the societal bullshit of looking a certain way to appear more attractive, but it’s just hard sometimes. That’s why I try to cycle through my closet every now and then so I’m not holding onto clothing that doesn’t fit me anymore. Did you end up keeping the jeans?..”

“She’s been requestin’ them for dessert pretty much every night, and I have a hard time tellin’ her no. They are absolutely delicious. It is definitely hard to pass them up sometimes. It’s comforting to know that other people go through the exact same thing that we’ve gone through. I did in fact donate the jeans, and then bought a new pair the same day. Wearin’ ‘em now actually, and I gotta say, I think I look quite good in ‘em if I do say so myself.” He said in a cheeky tone that sent heat rising on your cheeks.

“Well, I think you should stand up, if you feel comfortable doing so, that is, and let’s see what this jeans talk is all about.”

He grins at you, eyebrows playfully dancing while he sets his mug down along the table before pushing his chair back to stand up.

He gives you a little spin, one that neither you were expecting, but you could tell that he was having fun showing off his new denim.

“Okay, respectfully? Those jeans look amazing on you, they are very flattering, Joel.”

He laughs a warm and hearty laugh as his cheeks turn beet red from your words. Even if you’re just playing along, he’s feeling charmed by your presence.

“Really? Y’know, I was thinkin’ the same thing and a’that..but I’m a pretty humble guy.” He said sheepishly.

“Joel, screw being humble. You’re wearing those jeans like they’re made for you! You gotta own that.” You said with a giggle.

“Alright. Alright. If ya say so, darlin.’ I appreciate the compliment, but have ya taken a look at yourself tonight? You’re glitterin’ like a goddamn mirror ball. Gonna blind me with all that sparkle Y’got goin’ on.” He’s flirting, now. He’s absolutely shamelessly flirting with you.

You find yourself leaning forward then, close enough that he can see the pretty shimmer painted on your eyelids and your undeniable flirty smile.

“Joel, are you flirting with me right now?” You’re feeling bold, and curious to know if you were reading the signs correctly, or letting your brain run a muck in theories.

“I am, darlin.’ Is that..alright? Cus’ if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I can stop.”

“No, please continue to flirt away. I’m glad that you’re getting to see my outfit, Joel. I probably have glitter in places where glitter doesn’t belong.” You said with a light, airy laugh.

“You’ll be finding little bits of glitter all over the place well within the next year. Do you have any to spare?” He asked with a warm chuckle.

“Actually..I do have some to spare.” You reached for your purse along the side of the chair and pulled out your tube of glitter eyeshadow that you had brought just in case you needed any touch ups. “May I?”

“Oh, you really weren’t kiddin’ when you said you have some to spare, huh?” He leaned in closer to get a better look. “That’s a really pretty color, darlin.’ You think I can pull that off?”

“I don’t kid when it comes to my glitter, Joel.” You said teasingly. “I absolutely think you can pull this color off. But, I’ll need you to close your eyes so I can apply this more eveningly.”

“Okay, I’m trustin’ you, darlin.’” He slowly closed his eyes then and only flinched a little when he felt the applicator glide across his eyelid. “Sorry, wasn’t it expectin’ to feel that damn cold.” He murmured softly.

“No worries, Joel. It can be a bit ticklish at times.” You scooted your chair in closer to him so both of your knees were tucked in between his as you delicately applied the shimmering shadow. Your tongue was peeking out between your lips as you focused on the task at hand.

He tried to peek his eye open once, before you playfully scolded him and said, no peeking.

To which he grumbled out a response with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Am I pretty yet, darlin?’” He asked with his eyes still shut as you admired your work.

“Very pretty, Joel. Okay, you can go ahead and open them.” You pulled out a little handheld mirror from your purse and held it out for him to admire his appearance.

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the feeling before he averted his attention to the mirror you were holding. “Oh, shit. Wow. Y’know what..I actually think I like it.” He looked over at you then before he realized how close you were sitting to him. “Thank you, darlin’ I feel like I’m a mirror ball too.”

“It really brings out your eyes, Joel. They were already pretty before, but now, they’re even more beautiful.”

You were already forgetting about how awful you felt earlier, and the guilty feelings for turning down your friend's offer to go out. It admittedly felt nice to talk to another person that shared more things in common with you than you realized. To be validated, and in turn, validate someone as well? It felt really, really good inside.

“So, now that we’re both glittered up, and it’s two hours till the start of the new year, would you maybe care to join me for a drink? Only if you’re feeling up for it, that is.” Joel asked you with his eyes flickering back to yours. Truthfully, he’s happy that you somehow found yourself in his coffee shop tonight. He can’t remember the last time he’s connected with someone on such a deep and personal level.

“I’d love to get a drink with you, Joel.” You don’t even second guess your answer, and if the feelings come up later, so be it. That little voice inside of your head is nowhere to be found as Joel offers you his arm.

You help him finish closing up for the night before the two of you find yourselves walking arm in arm to the bar that his brother Tommy was at. During your walk, you find yourselves falling back into conversation that flows easy like a steady stream. When you bring up feeling guilty for often being a homebody, he reassures you that wanting to spend a quiet evening with yourself is perfectly normal, and it’s something you shouldn’t feel ashamed of. He goes on to add that if you want to go out more, that’s perfectly okay to do as well. But you should never pressure yourself to go out and have a good time, if that’s truly not what you want to do.

And when you find Joel’s brother at the high top with a glass of bubbly in front of him, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, “Joel, what is that on your face?” He leans in close to inspect the glitter shadow painted on Joel’s eyelids.

You and Joel turn to one another with two knowing smiles plastered on your faces before you laugh in unison, “it’s glitter, of course!”

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[bratsygirlsworld]

Moral Conscience - Kali Uchis

[alastorsfuckassbob]

Killing Me Softly- 4

AlastorxFem!Reader part 4

A/N: Ok so this is..uh LONG but its finally here!!! Val's text is in purple, yours is in blue, and Alastor's is red! As always bolded portions are the past..Yes I did revert to using another song sue me. As always: MINORS DNI

Plot: Valentino is a piece of shit You and Al are so shitty at feelings and communication..thats basically it.

⚠️Warnings:⚠️

-Sexual innuendos (they aren't graphic but they are spicy)

-Domestic abuse (this got a lot worse so please be mindful of that and use your own discretion- you are responsible for your internet consumption)

-Alcohol use AND abuse

-Violence!! ~mentions of blood~

-A LOT of cursing 🤠

 You had decided to take “small nap” to rid your body of the final remnants of exhaustion from night before. That so called “small nap” somehow lasted a good ten hours, leaving you with only two before you needed to arrive at the club again. You sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, the excess silky fabric of your slip cascading over the edge. You grab a stray eyeshadow pallet and begin to apply your makeup. You had decided on an inky toned smoky eye and a lightly lined liquid lip. It was a bit different from your usual look, but it complemented your new wardrobe perfectly. You glanced over at the folded scarlet fabric, excited to wear it again. 

You had decided to get ready at home today. Angel wasn’t working tonight, so there was no sense in being at the club earlier than you really needed to be. You snapped your fingers, and the shadow behind you began to style your h/c hair in his place. It wasn’t often Angel didn’t have to work on a Saturday night. Even in Hell, weekends came with higher foot traffic. Val insisted he had earned a break after yesterday’s long shoot. It was a rare occasion but not entirely out of character. Val couldn’t break his favorite toy.

After a few more pins, the shadow dawned a bright smile and jazz hands upon completing your hair. You looked absolutely gorgeous, the pitch black entity had done a fantastic job. Your hair was twisted into bouncy side swept curls adorned with tiny sparkling gems. You wanted to meticulously appreciate the effort it had so graciously put in, but your guilt riddled conscience kept you from any real form of enjoyment. 

 You needed to stop thinking of him. The more you let yourself fall back on memory, the more you would love him. The more you loved him ,the more it would hurt when he realized he couldn’t love you anymore. It wasn’t his fault, no one could. This was your penance. It wasn’t supposed to be easy. 

Memory had sunk its claws into your wrist. It hopelessly dragged you along by its blood lined chains and scarlet stained fingertips like an old desperate beggar. The hold Valentino had on your soul was insubstantial in comparison to the grasp Alastor had on your heart. You didn’t understand why that was. Val was your whole life, and he would be until eternity itself figured out a way to die.  It would make sense for him to reside in the core of your thought, but he didn’t, he never stayed there long.

 Unlike Alastor,  Val owned you. 

Unlike Alastor, he was there 

Unlike Alastor, 

you could actually feel his lips on your skin.

He had a predictable consistency to him. It was always the same constant battle between his unquenchable hatred and guilty heart. 

Val  insisted he “loved” you in his own way.  From the shackles on your wrists, he had tied you to the stake-All so that he could look for your love. He struck the match against your skin, and lit you both ablaze because he hated that he wanted it. In the end it would never matter how many times the heat touched your skin, it wasn’t going to feel like love.      

You knew what that was supposed to feel like. You had shared your heart with a great many souls in your time on Earth. Love was bathed in forgiveness and brushed with magnolia petal kisses. That love didn’t see you through eyes lined with antagonism, sparkled with fury and blended out with shades of exasperation.

 Valentino did. 

His lips were colored in hot pink brutality. It would smear across your skin with every kiss. He would leave you haloed in messy lipstick stain bruises and be on his way.

 His absence never lasted long. The color in his cheeks was permanently rouged with the lethality of your figure. Eventually, the guilt would seep through his pores, and the chemical reaction would wash his face of your blood. He would return with a silver plated tin bracelet and a few mangled words of affirmation. 

“ Y/n, you know I love you. I didn’t mean a word of it Mi Amore. You are the most beautiful demon this side of hell. I just get so upset sometimes there’s nothing else I can do. I can’t control my anger Amorcito, you know that.”

It’s not that he couldn’t control his anger, he was fully capable. He just didn’t. He never thought it was important to try. Even in his time on Earth, he didn’t care to put forth the effort. He was born with distain and died with detestation. He had always been this way. The guilt he felt afterward would never amount to the freedom found in his bloodied hands. There wasn't a finite limit to the apologies he could patch the holes he punched into your heart with. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. Any remorse he felt would slip from his conscience like every instance before it. It made sense how quickly he was able to rise into over lord status.

  Your focus shifts to the cherry fabric folded beside of you. You haphazardly grab the dress, lifting it over your head. Its crystal beads babbling in your ear as you slide it on. For a moment, the ghost of your human body silhouettes your demonic figure in the mirror.  Distant memories began to bubble up to the surface. In the true spirit of avoidance, you hopelessly shut them out as you grabbed your satin purse and walked out the door. 

As you left the building the newly warmed breeze swirled through your hair. The sunny weather practically lifting your wings for you as you flew towards the club. You reveled in the distance it granted you from your life. From the above clouds, Hell was actually rather pretty. The seemingly dull color scheme found a bit more variation the higher you flew. The different areas of the city blending into one. With each flap of your wings, the clouds whispered murmurs of freedom into your ears. For just a moment, it almost didn’t feel like hell.

 The rest of the flight is relatively peaceful, excluding the occasional scream from the city below.  Eventually you arrive at the club and head to your dressing room. You plop down on the velvety plush sofa seated against the wall.  It was still a bit early for places, so you elected to read one of Angel’s trashy magazine to pass the time. A ginger knock at the door draws your focus from celebrity scandals and tv drama. 

“Amorcito”

Valentino’s voice worms itself into your ear. He leans against the door frame looking for any indication of fear on your face. He didn’t want to scare you off before he had the chance to explain himself. You shoot him a tired glare and return to your magazine. Even if you wanted to answer it’s not like you had the ability to.

“Right, I forgot.”  He muses, his smirk practically bleeding into his eyes. With a wave of his hand , the sigil on your wrist begins to spark in a hot pink glow. In a puff of smoke, your voice returns to you. 

“Do you need something Val” you ask.  It comes out a bit raspier than you had intended. Hopefully he didn't take it as a form of aggression. You had somehow landed yourself in his good graces, and you didn’t want to fall from them any sooner than you had to.  

“I can’t have you sitting silent for your dear clients now can I y/n?” 

You didn’t respond. Mentally, you rolled your eyes. The statement was laughable. He would tear your soul to pieces if he could hear the sarcasm racketing around your brain at the current moment. 

“Mi amor, you know I didn’t mean it. I can’t have my favorite muñeca upset with me, can I?” 

You stay silent. Your body still wept with the soreness of the night before, but he had come here with the expectation you would nurse his pride back to health.

“You know that I love you baby” His tone was permeated with an emotion you couldn't quite place. For the first time, the desperation on his face surpassed the bloodlust. It lacked his usual innuendos and crude curses. If you hadn't known better you might have believed he really did- yet something deep within you really did want to believe he could be good. Maybe he didn't love you but he did feel slightly sorry and maybe that would be enough. You stood up from the sofa and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"I know you do Val. Don't worry about it" The words are sweet but the emotion behind them is entirely dead. His arm slinked around your waist, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. 

"I want to thank you, for the dress. Its really beautiful. You have great taste” You added. Your hand layered on top of his, a gentle, but very obviously fake smile curving into your lips. Val loved compliments, the antennae on his forehead usually perked up whenever he received one. 

To your surprise, he started to laugh, his shoulders shaking in its ferocity. “ Y/n you can’t be serious.” 

You didn’t really understand what was funny or why you were nervously laughing along with him. You didn’t have to know why, you just had to go along with it. If you had to guess, he was probably intoxicated in one way or another. Most of the other performers and employees constantly were on some level. It would make sense if he was too. “I’m almost insulted you would even pretend that I would put you in something that tacky, and not to mention conservative. I treat you better than that don’t I?” 

With that, you were even more confused..Did he not gift you the dress? Where the hell else would it come from?  You couldn't even begin to craft a response. You had to come up with something quickly, and improvisation(lying) was not your best skill. Your mind darted from one lame excuse to another. You didn’t have time to think critically about it you just had to say something.

“Yeah I thought it would be a funny joke, I agree it is a bit old fashioned, It definitely needs a little update..I liked the color though.” You lied straight through your teeth. It wasn't clear if he had bought into your practically incoherent rambling. As all good liars do, you dug the hole a few feet deeper with a few more details to seal the deal.  “I wasn’t sure how to alter it so I thought I’d ask you for your opinion”. 

Even if the excuse was lame, it covered all the bases. 

“In my opinion we shred it”  His quiet laugh sounded egotistical to say the least. If something or someone didn't fit his taste he saw no reason why it should exist.

Disappointment drapes your frame from the tips of your horns to the bottom of your heels. Even if the dress had apparently spawned from some freaky stalker, you really did like it. 

“Are you sure I couldn’t just wear it as it is for one night? I could add a slit or something for the next time "Hope laced your bargain as you spoke. You knew he would probably say no but you couldn't help but ask. 

“Y/n, Baby, as hot as I think you look in anything. This dress is going to need some serious alterations if you expect to wear it in front of our rowdy crowd. I can't let you go out there dressed like a nun, it would be awful for business” His face twists into a sly sneer. An idea bubbled on the surface of his thoughts.Before you can register what is happening, his hands are tracing the outline of your hips. Each separated claw of his fingers ran down your body until they stopped just above the outer edge of each thigh. On the surface the action didn't exhibit his typically harmful nature, but if you dared to look even a fraction of an inch closer you would see its minatory subtext. 

“Don’t worry, I think we can figure out something simple out for tonight”. His fingers draw together into a unified line. He digs his nails in a little deeper into you as he drags them down your leg until they reach the floor. He had effectively sliced a high slit on both sides of the dress, with little to no effort. He had pushed a little too deeply in some areas, small pricks of blood leaked from a few irregularly shaped scratches in consequence.

“You look like perfection in red baby”, he breaths out. He stayed crouched on the floor for a moment. You couldn’t tell if he was admiring the surprisingly straight lines of his work or the dots of blood that speckled your skin. He takes your hand in his and places a wet kiss on your wrist where the sigil had been burned into your skin. 

“I can’t wait to see you shine tonight Amorcito” 

He kissed up your arm as he rose from the floor. The way his tongue slithered around your forearm made you dreadfully uncomfortable. The feeling was slimy and otherwise indescribable. You were almost grateful you didn’t have the words to describe your disgust so that the feeling would die with you instead of being passed around to others by language.

You were eternally grateful when he finally walked through the exit. He was finished with his fun with you, at least for now.The club had opened a little more than ten minutes ago. As its owner, he had an obligation to fulfill his duties (flirt with hot guys) ,and supervise the club floor (get blackout drunk and fuck aforementioned hot guys ). Val loved to watch as sinners got down and dirty in the corners of his dimly lit clubs. It was a bit of an ego boost to know he had helped create an environment that led to that sort of thing. He enjoyed the epigrammatic conversations and miscellaneous substance his customers brought with them. He was great at sharing when it came to things that weren’t his own. He loved to hear them praise his accomplishments, and disclose the desire they shared for him and his performers almost as he loved to get high. By the look of tonights crowd, he was in for another pleasurable evening, or so he thought. 

A curt laugh track interrupted the regularly scheduled cycle of conversation. Val’s head practically spun backwards upon noticing the deer eared demon lounging at the edge of the balcony. 

"What the fuck is he doing here" Val grunted under his breath.  He was supposed to be dead.

Alastor, apparently, never received the memo. He sat with a glass of indifferent whiskey in the VIP segment of the balcony above. He was fitted in a well cut vermilion pin stripe suit and a pair of wing tipped oxfords. Despite his polished exterior and perpetual smile, his eyes were glossed in boredom. 

The conversations of lower demons never really intrigued him, they didn't speak much about anything outside of the bounds of recreational drug use. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he had spent time in that particular circle back in his younger days. Perhaps it was the drastic change of aesthetic, or maybe the culture surrounding it had just shifted too much for his liking, but it just didn’t appeal to him anymore. Alastor found the environment dreadfully exhausting. The distinct loud bump of electronic base and synthesized beats made it hard to hear his own thoughts. He was in for a long boring night. There really wasn’t anything more for him to do than pass judgment on the tasteless decor. 

He looked around at the tacky overtly sexual paintings hung against the walls. It was one of Valentino’s classier clubs, but that doesn’t mean the interior designer wasn’t entirely delusional when they picked out its color pallet. For lack of a better word, it was just ugly. The Deep pinks and vibrant reds of the walls accented the white porcelain pillars that framed them. (Vaguely reminiscent of a tampon) The dark purple of the leathery chairs somehow blended in with the black marble tile in such a hideous way the word “unity” didn’t even begin to spark his mind. 

With the exception of its more intimate performance space and higher end clientele, it wasn’t that much different than the typical club experience Valentino provided. It still featured his usual sex rooms and coke lined tables, despite its overall calmer energy. Alastor didn’t understand how you ended up in a place like this. It didn’t seem like you. He had instructed the newest soul under his contract to follow you and figure out your daily routine and “basic facts of life”. He would never admit it, but he was mostly curious to learn of your relationship status. He wanted to know if you had gotten married or if you had moved on. He had been dead for years ,it would make sense if you had. He didn’t want to step back into your life unless he knew everything.He needed to know what approach would work best on you.  “Evidently” you weren’t just outwardly spouting that information into the hilltops. The poor soul came back with a list of two locations and not much else. Naturally, it didn’t get to live much longer. He was not a man to have his time wasted. If he wanted something done correctly the first time he should have just done it himself. So here he was, awaiting your performance.  

 Valentino walked across the crowded floor, his clenched fists glued to his sides. Alastor’s bored expression made his blood boil. He carelessly dodged dancing couples and trays of champagne in his quiet anger. Val never liked that old timey prick or his rickety dated voice. It grated his ears endlessly, not to mention he was just flat out annoying. If Val wanted to listen to some random lanky old man’s diet British accent and senseless uppity rambles;  he would have turned on Downton Abby or some other old pretentious shit. Each step he took towards the radio demon deepened the scowling smirk growing on his face. If Alastor was going to ever so nonchalantly seat him self and a glass of whiskey in the VIP section of HIS club, at least one of them going to have his fun with it. 

“I didn't take you to be a fan of my work Alastor, lovely to see you as always” Val slid into the booth across from him. The remaining groups still seated at the surrounding tables grabbed their drinks and found a better place to be. It was a well known fact the two of them weren’t friends 

“I am most decidedly not! however the streets of hell will not stop praising a certain canary singing on your steps, and I am by far intrigued" His eyed narrowed as his grin grew wider. 

“Oh really? It is my little siren you are interested in? Don’t let her pretty little face fool you, she’s a real bitch to work with. She thinks shes hot shit just because the sound of her voice is enough to chain any demon.” He feigned disinterest, flicking his nails to the side to observing their color.

“Oh really~Where ever did you find her? Surely if she is this talented I would have heard of her already"  Agitation seethed through Alastor's voice. He had never liked Valentino, he found his methods to be crude and unseemly. The way he spoke of you hazed Alastor's vision in permanent red. He had killed far greater demons for far less than the disrespect he had sent your way. However, he knew he couldn't act on that urge quite yet. He was on a mission. He needed to know more about why you were here first in the first place. No one here would know better than the sleazy club owner himself.

“ I don’t really think that’s your business" Valentino accused, venom dripping from his tongue. He didn't really care why the radio demon had taken such a fast interest in a lowly sinner like you. It didn't matter. It gave him something to work with. He had something he didn’t. Pride is a fickle thing, he could use this to get under his skin. 

He didn't want a physical altercation by any means, not in his own territory anyway. Vox would never let him live it down if he started a fight in his own club and accidentally tore it to the ground in the process. A verbal sparring session would have to do for now. Val loved starting any sort of argument he could conceive. 

"My little dove tends to shy away from the limelight. She used to do all of her performances behind a mask, but don’t you worry I was able to coax her out of it." (are you secretly the masked singer?? omg) "You'll be in for a wonderful show tonight." Pride overtook Valentino's usually mendacious features as he spoke. He had something Alastor didn't. Val wanted nothing more than to spark jealousy in his heart. Alastor, wasn't oblivious to his intentions, it just wasn't his primary focus. More-so, he felt frustrated with questions he couldn't ask. You couldn't have been in Hell for more than a few days. How many performances had you really had time for? The possibility you had existed down here for any longer than that didn't exist to him. 

"Now Valentino, there's no reason to be secretive, unless you have something to hide. Surely if this woman is as fantastic as you say she is, there is  no need to hide the details of her origin, I'm sure it must be quite the story"  A deceitful glimmer coruscated his smile, as he took another careless swig of whiskey. His pointed fingers gripped tighter around the glass, cracking its edge.

" Actually-it’s the opposite, trust me its not even worth mentioning” Val laughed. “Why not enjoy the present and focus on her current skillset a? Surely you must have seen her around somewhere, she’s a real star on film." His tone was maliciously sweet, but the dry rasp of his voice revealed the truth. A dark glint flashed in his eyes as he thought of your previous work. 

Getting information out of "barney the big purple pimp"  Valentino was going to be harder than Alastor had previously anticipated. Any information he might’ve had on you was under lock and key. At this point, he considered just ripping off Valentino's stupid little egg shaped head and calling it a day. He didn't understand what you saw in him or this dingy sweat stained bar. In your time on earth, the two of you had spent many nights dancing together in the speakeasies and glitzy clubs of New Orleans. This wasn't the type of establishment you would usually go in for. He had always known you to see the best in others, even if they so evidently didn't deserve it. You sharpened your sword for those you deemed worthy even if they despised you for it. If you were here it must meant you had seen something worth redemption within him. 

"You must be very proud of her accomplishments to rave on about her in this way" Alastor’s voice was fitted in the same snarky tone you often took with Valentino, but unlike you, he could tear the whole club apart with a snap of his fingers. Val didn’t want to deal with that, not here. He would have to wait and slit the radio demon's throat outside of his territory. 

"Enjoy the show Alastor.” He quipped promptly showing the conversation to its end. Valentino walked away before he could get in a word otherwise. 

Val didn’t know the nature of Alastor’s apparent attraction towards you, but he personally knew the pain desperately wanting something you couldn't have caused. Ironically, Alastor was the indirect cause of that familiarity. Through Valentino's partnership with Vox, obsession had sprouted.  Something about the way his televised voice distorted in anger drew him in. He had been caught on his snarky personality and quick wit almost as much as the pitiful reassurances the TV demon would occasionally throw his way. He knew the feelings he had amounted for Vox were never going to be reciprocated.  He would never look his way so long as the radio demon walked the streets of hell. Even if Valentino couldn’t bring about his revenge in his typical violent way, he was determined to get it. You were the key he didn’t know he had. After all, no sinner could resist the call of your sweet song or the appeal of your hips. The radio demon would be no different. 

Eventually, one of Val’s assistants called you to places. You walk through the backstage area, a trail of glittery red streaming behind you. You always loved the moment before the show began. It was typically quiet, everyone attended to their own business. They rarely stopped to bother you, it offered you a moment of order before the chaos this performance would plunge you into. You grab a sugar rimmed shot glass from underneath the bar cart left for the performers. You didn’t bother to read the labels on the bottle as you poured a heavy handed shot. As soon as the liquid touched your lips you realized it had been gin. Despite the burning in your throat, and the sour taste it left in your mouth, you refilled the glass a few more times. On some level, you felt guilty for the amount of alcohol you had just consumed.On a deeper level, you knew you couldn’t make it through a set without it. It was a means to an end, nothing more. 

 Valentino’s compulsion for revenge had led him towards the velvety amethyst curtains of the stage you stood behind. Whatever good mood he was in earlier had vanished, his disposition was dripped in murderous rage. He storms up to you, roughly taking your chin in his hand. 

“I don't fucking know why or how but the radio demon is here. You better make me look good-I’ve already throughly sung your praises and I will not be embarrassed in front of that shit head”  He paced as he spoke hostility following at his heels. “For some reason, he has taken an interest in you. I need you to give an extra little show to the balcony he’s seated in the center. Hes the lanky washed out red asshole with the bitchy little antlers, you can’t miss him.” The words he had spoken jumbled in your brain. You weren’t really paying attention, the calming aura of the alcohol had begun to hit your system. 

“I thought he was dead, are you sure it’s him?” you mumbled as you picked of the remaining sugar crystals from your glass. 

 You had briefly heard of the radio demon in your time-He hadn’t been around for years, most demons speculated that someone finally managed to kill him. He disappeared three years after your arrival in hell, but his methods left a lasting impression. The agonizing screams he had broadcasted still echoed in your dreams occasionally. However, despite your deeply rooted fear, you admired him on some level. He was clever to say the least, and his morals weren’t entirely questionable either. He thought dealing in cheaper souls was crass and frankly unnecessary. He left weaker demons alone, unless they stepped in the way of his path.He wouldn’t pick a fight with anyone he didn’t deem strong enough to fight back. 

 His hands shoot against your throat, the force of the action drags you into sobriety.  His fingers thrust deeper into your skin as he lifts you from the floor by your neck. He had a lot riding on this, and he wasn’t going to let your indifference ruin that. Your grasp on the shot glass loosens as your vision begins to spot from the lack of oxygen. It falls from your hand and shatters with the impact.

“Your job isn’t to ask questions, it’s to get out there and make me look good” he drags your body closer and growls into your ear. 

He slams your body against the floor of fragmented glass. The sole of his foot makes contact with the palm of your hand, pushing the shards deeper into your skin. Crimson flowed through the wounds  in a steady pour. Hot tears took residence in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. 

“ If you fuck this up for me, I’ll do a lot worse than just take your voice Y/n. You don’t want to see me angry. I promise you, you won’t like it.” His foot presses harder against your skin. His dark tone sends shivers down your spine. He had released his grasp on you, but the syllables that slithered out of his mouth constricted around your throat. 

Despite your decision not to cry, the tears began to spill. They weren’t entirely motivated by the pain. The situation had become too similar to those that had existed in your life, and this was your body’s reaction to that. The heat from his glare could have cauterized your wounds. He removed his foot from your hand as he crouched down next to your tear stained figure. His fingers graze the edges of your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he wipes droplets from your face.

“I can’t wait to see you tonight Amorcito, you always put on such a good show for me.” He kisses your injured hand, the cuts begin to close as his lips come into contact with your skin. He licks the remaining blood from his lips and returns to the club floor- leaving you in a pool of maroon colored regret and splintering glass. 

You watch the stage manager’s eyes roll as they grab a mop to clean up the mess. Whatever they were getting payed, it wasn’t enough. Although the ordeal wasn’t out of the ordinary, it was definitely inconvenient. You stand up from the floor brushing the remaining glass off of your dress and walk through the curtains and onto the stage. Even without a physical mask, you were still wearing one. You dawned a bright sultry smile and an uppity attitude as you waved to your adoring fans. At times the outlandishly theatric persona could be fun. The ecstatic cheers of the crowd after each movement made you feel powerful in an odd way. The attention often fueled your performance into the more seductive destination Val had wanted to begin with. It was a means to an end, nothing more.

“Good evening to all of my lovely sinners in the audience” The sound of your voice echoed over the endless chatter of the club. You sat down at the edge of the rounded stage, your legs dangling over its edge. The short demon in front of you practically drooled as your body edged a little more off the platform in his direction. You noticed his reaction and wanted to take things a step further. Your wings spread, taking you closer to the table he sat at, the edge of your finger tilting his head up to meet your own.

“I’ve got a wonderful show in store for just you tonight” Seduction over took your tone as you blew the demon a kiss leaving the entire table absolutely dumbfounded. You travel back to the stage with various sexual remarks towards the other inhabitants. You sit back on the stage, slowly extending your legs to the side, crossing them as you do. You tease the slits in your dress to the side revealing a bit more skin. The patrons erupt into a sea deafening screams. 

The lights suddenly cut out, you dissipated with them. The shred of an electric guitar echoed throughout the space. An array of red and purple spotlights flood the center of the stage. You reappear in a puff of smoke as they do. The music was a bit “edgier” than what you’d usually go for. The genres you listened to spanned a vast array of styles, but you usually preferred to sing the softer tunes of the earlier decades. Valentino’s typical clientele however, needed a newer, rougher pop/rock sound. The drum set clicks in tandem with the percussive click of your heels as you begin your dance. 

A wickedly wide grin stretches across your face, you were ready to start the show. You began to sing.

“I heard he sang a good song

I heard he had a style”

This was your compromise. You could sing anything you wanted to so long as you updated the instrumentals. Most of the people in the club were too wasted to listen to the lyrics anyway. It didn’t really matter what you sang as long as you sounded good and looked hot doing it. Hell’s population would eat up anything you served them. Their mouths began to water as you drop to the floor, arching your back away from them. The music flowed through you, awakening a deep sensuality in your movement . Each twist of your hips accented the intense chords and high hat hits of the accompaniment. Your hair formed a halo around you as you turned onto your back. Your legs extend into the air earning an influx of vulgar cheers from the surrounding demons. Any softness your voice had once held disappeared as growled into the next phrase.

“And so I came to see him

To listen for a while”

You slowly slid up from the floor, your hands following the shape of your curves until they reached pit of your neck. Your fingers splayed against its circumference as you rolled your eyes back into your head.  You glanced up to the balcony to make sure the radio demon was watching, the dim lighting prevented you from seeing anything more than his silhouette. 

Alastor wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the glance you threw him, or your performance. On the one hand, he was endlessly enamored with you. Alastor would have dedicated the rest of his life to sing your praises in that moment if you had just asked him to. He loved to listen to you sing and watch you dance in any context.

On the other hand however, it made him extraordinarily jealous. He hated the lewd comments and desire filled glances of the other demons around him.  It made sense they were attracted to someone like you, but that doesn’t mean he liked that they were. He would remember each face that dared utter such filthy things about you, and deal with them later.  His attention shifted back to your voice as you spun your voice into a decadent riff. 

“And there he was this young boy

A stranger to my eyes”

 You turned upstage to the silver pole that spun in its center. Hundreds of eyes glazed over in pure lust as your spine pressed against the pole. You were practically suffocated with screams as your form flipped upside down. You dropped one arm from the pole, the tips of your wings grazing the floor as your newly freed hand followed the lines of your body. 

 Your exaggerated and frankly pornographic expressions as you twisted against the pole made Alastor apprehensive. The feeling of unease was not caused by disgust but concern. As much as he loved to listen to you sing, this  didn’t feel right for him to watch. It felt too fake. You looked far too uncomfortable for his liking.He had seen you in a more intimate light before. Even decades later the mere thought of your gentle gasps and fluttering lashes dragged him up from hell and sent him straight to heaven. He was familiar with the grind of your hips against his own, and the feeling of your hands in his. He knew every freckle on your body and the exact degree of your spine’s curvature. He loved nothing more than to worship each fold in your figure. He adored the gentle light that always seemed to flicker in your eyes in those sensitive moments. He reveled in your loving glances and gentle touches he was not bothered with the sexuality of it all but rather its performative nature. This felt too over the top. Despite your energetic movements and sensual smile, your eyes were cold and dead. He didn’t want his memory caught on your legs wrapped around his waist or his head between your thighs if it was just a performance. It didn’t feel right to. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and focused on the sound of your voice. Even with its dolorous tamber the whisper of your gentle heart found its way to seep through. 

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

You notice Val seated between two tall blonde demons with their legs crossed over his. He was very clearly not impressed with them or your movements on the pole. His disinterest grew with each sip of his drink. He gives you a pressing look. In that moment you knew exactly what he wanted. He had had enough of your stalling. You looked good but you needed to look better. 

"Killing me softly with his song

Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

With a slight roll of your eyes, you fly up to the balcony. You place yourself onto the thick marbled railing with your back to the radio demon. With a quick twist your of your hips, you straddle the banister your body rolling against it ever so slightly. You make direct eye contact with the patron in the center booth. He wore a mask crafted in wilted black rose petals and the scent of death, but underneath he held your late lover’s face. His deep red eyes meet your own e/c ones The glimmer of his previously golden swirled dark brown eyes clashed against his current ghostly red ones  He brushed a strand of his straightened two toned hair  to the side of his face. He carried the same nose, body, and expression as Alastor- Your Alastor. You turn upstage to compose yourself. You sway your hips to the beat of the music in order to keep up appearances. You turn your weary head behind you to his table to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. Even in its outstretched state, his smile gave him away. It really was him. After years of searching, you had finally found him, or better yet, he found you. For just a moment, you had forgotten your penance and your heart flowed with oceans of love. You floated within them in pure ecstasy. In that moment, and animosity you held for him faded away with the weight of your excitement.

"I felt all flushed with fever

Embarrassed by the crowd"

Abruptly the realization hits you, he was seated where the radio demon should have been- that must mean that Alastor; Your  Alastor, was the radio demon. Your mind flipped to the initial radio broadcast he first spoke to you with, as well as the note signed “yours truly”.  Alastor had used that phrase so often as a sign off from the radio show…..Perhaps you weren’t the sharpest little crayon in the demon filled box- considering the embarrassingly long time it took you to put the pieces together. 

"I felt he found my letters

And read each one out loud"

Realizing this sent a wave of relief through you. Perhaps he could free you from this life, he was one of the strongest demons in hell. If anyone could break your contract with Valentino, it would be him...Would he even consider it? Your mind swirled in a storm of questions. Why the sudden change? As the relief of the initial realization began to fade and a new understanding took root. He had left you in life, why would he want to help you now? 

You couldn’t help but wonder why he was really here. Considering his previous track record, nothing made sense. Why would he speak to you within his broadcast, or gift you the dress, or show up to your workplace if he hadn’t payed you any mind in such a long time?

He must have wanted something from you. That would be the only logical reason for his sudden appearance. If he truly had always been the radio demon, he held power. He had all of the necessary resources to find you and he never did. He didn’t need to. 

"I prayed that he would finish

But he just kept right on"

You think back to the various gifts he would purchase you before he asked something of you, or the roses he would send to your apartment if you two had an argument in your life together. Your years of wondering why he had left boiled down to one simplistic answer…He had always just needed something. The more you thought on this, the more painfully obvious it became. He wasn’t here because he loved you. He was only here because you had become convenient again.The second he deemed you impractical, he would leave you as he had before.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words"

You fly away from the balcony, sliding down the metal pole in the center of the stage to reach the floor. You were thankful the stage lights blinded you from his pressing gaze once you were on the ground. You would ignore the balcony entirely for the remainder of the performance. It didn’t matter if Valentino would be upset, you couldn’t bear to look at Alastor anymore- Yet even with your newfound distance, he had chained you to memory. You were transported back to the downtown apartment in which you had previously spent so many hours with him in.

 1930 New Orleans: Your apartment 

The candlelit room was a patchwork of miscellaneous vintage furnishings and modern decorative trinkets. You had moved into your apartment not long after your father had passed. Most of the items within it were gifted to you upon his death. He preferred victorian architecture over all else, it was natural his taste in interior design would follow. You leaned against the sage patterned love seat with a cooling cup of tea in hand. The star speckled sky, and tepid air of late April seep through your opened window.

You awaited the arrival of your lover. Alastor wasn’t a man to be late. He was meticulously early and always prepared. His absence had begun to torment you in anxiety. The grandfather clock stationed in the corner of the room struck midnight, furthering your worries. He was supposed to arrive at 7:30, obviously it was long past that. 

He had promised to take you out dancing to make up for the late hours he had begun to keep at the studio. He had become more withdrawn than you cared to admit. He disappeared for days at a time. On the few days you managed to get ahold of him, he dismissed you, insisting he needed to keep working on his show. It aggravated you to no end, but you would never want to be another obstacle on the way to his dreams. It was easier to let it go and enjoy the time you did have with him.

You had the bad habit of jumping to the worst scenario.You didn’t live in the safest sector of the city, it was entirely possible he had been attacked along the way. Your mind shifts to the uprising of missing person’s cases New Orleans had been plagued with. The media speculated a killer of some kind, but the police department denied those theories. They hadn’t found any of the bodies, and refused to believe they were going to.

 If he wasn’t here within the next hour, you were going to search for him yourself.

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

An abrupt knock steals you from your worries, you rush to its source without a second thought. You open the door to the dark curly haired man you had been waiting for. To your surprise, his usually tidy hair was unkempt and rumpled around his newly bruised face. His disheveled blood stained clothing reflected the crimson pouring from his nose. You froze like a deer in headlights, it was one hell of a way to show up for a date. 

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

“Oh my god” you whispered under your breath. Your hands appear at the sides of his face tracing each little scratch and the deep bruise forming around his eye. “Love..what happened? Are you okay?” You stuttered out.

He sent you a sheepish smile, not wanting to raise any concerns.“May I come in” he asked placing his hand on top of your own.

  His “previous activities” were rather impromptu. Usually, his targets were much better thought out, and handled much more methodically. Although he enjoyed the anguished screams of his victims, he would never hurt anyone who wasn’t actively or indirectly hurting you, the same applied to this kill. The timing wasn’t ideal but it was a necessity.

He had decided to walk to the flower shop from the station so he could surprise you with a fresh bouquet before your date. He felt tremendously guilty for his recent absences, and wanted to alleviate that with a gift. Even if he missed you dreadfully, New Orleans birthed the scum of the earth. It was more important to keep you protected than to keep long expanses of your company. He would never forgive himself if something he could have prevented happened to you.

Upon his arrival into the shop, he was rather annoyed with the short brutish man that held up the line. He shamelessly flirted with the owner of the shop, who very clearly did not care for his advances. Alastor wouldn’t stand for such behavior. It was better to deal with the issue then instead of allowing you to continue to exist in a world full of degenerates. He would do anything to keep you safe. 

 Once the man had finally left, he followed him until they reached a quiet alley. He pulled the knife from his coat pocket, ready to strike. He stabbed the man’s back and twisted the knife in as far as it would go. However, the man was a bit stronger than he anticipated. It was the first time anyone had bothered to fight back.

His most recent kill had gotten sloppy, and here he was covered in blood on your doorstep in consequence. He never wanted any of the evidence to be tied to you, so he had learned to keep his distance. On this particular occasion however, he didn’t have much of a choice. He had dismembered the body and left it tucked in an alleyway, to be disposed of later. The only evidence remaining was the blood staining his clothes. If someone saw him walking through town in his disorderly state, that would raise questions; questions that could indirectly put you into harms way. Although this wasn’t ideal, it was the only option. -Besides, he had accidentally missed your date, you were probably worried sick over him.

“Yes of course I’m sorry, please follow me” You stammer out grasping his hand and leading him to the bathroom. You weren’t entirely sure of the nature of his bedraggled  state, but you were determined to fix it. You reach under the sink and dig out the first aid kit you kept on hand. 

You reach for the bandages and a dampen a small cloth. You press it against his bloodied nose and place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Are you alright” You ask hesitantly. Your mind burned with questions, what had happened to bring him here in such a state?

“It’s nothing I can’t manage I’m sorry to drag you into this.” He replied, remorse seeping into his tone.

“No it’s alright I’m just glad you’re okay.” You responded as you began to bandage the scuffs on his hands. From his demeanor, you gathered he didn’t really want to talk about this, but you couldn’t help but ask.

“What happened Al?”  You questioned. Your shoulders were slumped in his direction while you carefully washed the cuts on his face.

“It’s not important my dear.” He responded with a nonchalant smile.

"Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

His indifferent attitude did anything but calm you. 

“You can’t show up on my doorstep like this, and not expect me to be concerned for you. Please, just tell me what happened love” You begged. 

“I  had something to take care of. It’s not important” He dismissed you again as you unbuttoned the clasps of his shirt to tend to anything below the surface. Through his bloodied exterior, you couldn’t discern what stemmed from him or another person. 

“Clearly-" you huffed. You examined the small contusions that littered his chest. “Please don’t run from me Al”  Even though his injuries are less severe than you’d thought your lips contorted into a deep frown. “I’m worried about you.” Your e/c eyes bore into his smooth brown ones.

“I just.. got involved with the wrong person y/n, please save your worries for a worthy cause.” He murmured. He attempted to dissuade your worries with another smile, it only multiplied them.

“We should report this to the police Alastor I don’t care who you got involved with they don’t have a right to leave you like this” You urge, your fingers mindlessly trace the edges of each forming bruise.

“Y/n just drop it.” He finally snapped, his voice is intense and almost feral. His shoulders tense up almost as quickly as they release.

“Please”. He softens, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

"He sang as if he knew me

In all my dark despair"

1930: New Orleans: Your apartment, six months later

Another pressing knock awakens you from your sleep. You didn’t even have it in you to be upset anymore. It had become habitual, he would show up on your doorstep a little before four in the morning speckled in bright red blood; just as he had done every few weeks for the last six months. It wasn’t worth asking for explanation anymore. He would ramble out the same tepid excuses and unconcerned reassurances. 

You opened the door to his typical scarlet splatted clothing. The longer his little escapade expanded, the less injuries he sustained afterwards. It was a double edged sword. You were glad he never walked in branded in bruises or dripping his own blood, but it also made you apprehensive. How was he able to hurt another so easily with no more damage than the occasional scrape on his knuckles? Nothing about the entire affair made sense. You recall the vague details he had mentioned after the first incident. If he truly had been accidentally whisked into the company of the wrong individuals, why didn’t he just leave? He worked in radio, theoretically he could accomplish the same goal in a different location. There wasn’t anything to stop him. You had assured him you would drop everything and go with him if he only asked you to. New Orleans had no reason to hold onto you in his absence. You were a matching set.  

With a small kiss between your drowsy eyes, he walked into your bedroom to shed his dirtied clothes. Upon his return, he flitted about your kitchen collecting the necessary materials to make you both a cup of tea. It was routine at this point. Accompanied by the smooth lull of the radio, you would drink your tea and chat. He was never at a loss for words, and you loved to listen. You didn’t really talk about anything meaningful, just whatever happened to cross his mind.  You sit curled into his arms tea in hand. You couldn’t help but wonder why this was all happening. You wanted him to open up to you. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were. Maybe if he told you, you could find a way to help him out of this

“Al..why don’t we just leave here? I don’t like that you keep showing up like this. I promise I won’t be upset with whatever details it holds…I just want to know that you’re being safe.” You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, as you speak.

“My dear, we have been over this, it is nothing I can’t handle. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it” He smiles down at you and presses another kiss against your forehead. He admired your care, but he feared your judgement too harshly to admit the true details of his actions.

"And then he looked right through me

As if I wasn't there"

“This is the second time this week Alastor. I’ll support you through anything but I deserve to know the details”. You plead, lifting your head to better observe his features. He looked completely and entirely unbothered.

"And he just kept on singing

Singing clear and strong"

"y/n I'm telling you to drop it" His hand cups your cheek.

"No you don't get to tell me that anymore. I'm concerned for you Alastor.” Your voice gets louder as you pull away from his touch.

"I've told you before darling, you needn't worry" He tucks a stray loc of your hair behind your ear. "I promise I would never hide anything from you for longer than I needed to dear.I will always be truthful with you y/n” He pulls your body back into his lap as he speaks.

“ I just can’t tell you yet… It wouldn’t be right to involve you in this.” His voice is indistinct and distant, as his arms wrap around you into a tight hug.

“ I can’t risk you getting hurt, You are my perfection dear” 

Your heart falls from your recollection as your body finally drops to the from the spinning pole. Alastor didn't end up keeping his promise of eventually veracity. How many other things did he simply “not tell you yet”.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words"

You were convenient and gullible, you had loved him too much to even consider that he might have been hurting others and not a victim himself . You lived in the middle of the city, giving him a central location to act from. He hadn’t lied when he said you were perfect.

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

It was much deeper than you previously thought. You weren’t just someone he kept around for the occasional favor or entertainment. It was deeper than that. The bloodied clothes and unexplained absences finally made sense.  He would’ve needed to harm a lot of people to hold such an astute amount of power upon his arrival in hell. You were the unknown tool that helped him reach that status. 

"Telling my whole life with his words"

No wonder you ended up in hell. Any sinful actions you may have taken or blood on your hands was nothing in comparison to the amount he spilled with your help. You were nothing more than an accessory to his crimes. You had wasted your life on counterfeit kisses and meaningless utterances of  love. You had wasted your afterlife believing they held some merit.

"Killing me softly with his song"

He didn’t come for you because he didn’t need anything from you. He never actually loved you enough to search for you beyond that. 

The music crescendos into its final note. You take a slight bow as the crowd exploded into a sea of cheers.

“Thank you for being such a darling audience, I’ll be out to speak with you soon” you announce as you blow a kiss in their direction. Val would have to be mad later. You needed to get out of there

As soon you walked off stage, the lively armor of your theatrical persona was thrown aside, leaving nothing to guard your wounded heart. You stumble down the hall towards your dressing room ,a freshly opened bottle of wine in tow. You wanted nothing more than a moment of clear unfeeling peace. Valentino preferred you to mingle after a performance, but you needed to collect yourself and dampen your anger before you had to speak with your untamable fans. Alastor’s appearance had shaken you to your core in ways you weren’t prepared to confront. You didn’t have time to accurately process those emotions so you would settle for a second alone to compartmentalize. By the time you reach the dressing room’s door, the bottle in your hand is nearly empty. You turn the knob to reveal to a vase of crimson roses reflected in your mirror and the shadow of his antlers on your face. 

“Why are you here.” You asked pointedly. Your voice held the typical icey air of a frigid hellish morning. You had no intention of letting him stay long enough to propose whatever twisted favor had brought him back to your door.

“It was you that contacted me dearest” He ignored the frostbite forming on his finger tips from your cold shoulder- His frankly untrue statement struck more than a few of your nerves. 

“If I had, don’t you think I would have done it sooner?” You seethed with aggravation. Alastor hadn’t a clue as to why you were so cross with him. Perhaps guilt motivated your responses and he was simply caught in the overtly anguished crossfire. You had always been slightly oversensitive to your effect on him- maybe that was it?

“Now my dear you haven’t been in hell very long, you mustn’t blame yourself for needing a bit of extra time to understand your skillset. I was pleasantly surprised to hear your sweet voice interrupt my usual broadcast- Although, I must say I wasn’t aware you were so interested in continuing show business after death. Had you asked before finding your own way, I could have connected you with a classier establishment" 

“A bit of extra time is the understatement of the hour” you huff under your breath. 

“Most demons take weeks to learn control, you on the other hand managed to do so in a couple of days you really should be proud” He sent you a reassuring smile.

You laugh dryly, confusion overtakes his features and seeps into his smile.

“Oh sure you’re absolutely right! I should be proud it only took a day or so- give or take a few years” The sarcasm radiating from your response would have slit the throat of a lesser demon. This confused Alastor even further. 

“y/n, how long have you been in hell.”Bewilderment etches across his lips, he had never considered the possibility you weren’t another new arrival before then.

“Ten years, eleven next week.” you admit. His eyes grow wide in remorse.

“Dear I am so very sorry I didn’t find you sooner. Between your anonymity and my little leave of absence, we must have just missed each other. I assure you had I known you were here I would have been chasing at your heels.”  Despite his deeply genuine intentions, you perceived his words as nothing more than another manipulative tactic to persuade you into whatever twisted plan he had in store.

“Please- Al, you can cut the act already. To be entirely frank, I don’t need any more of your sweetly worded lies, I know who you’ve always really been now. I’m telling you it’s not going to work anymore- I’m not that stupid.” Your retort was accompanied by the roll of his eyes.

“You left me without a care in the world, and with a child for that matter. It stands to reason your sentiment wouldn’t change, even in hell. I don’t care for whatever old favor you’re trying to call in. I’m not helping you.” Even across the room, the edges of his raven tipped hair practically singed at the weight of your words. For the first time in his hellish existence, his everlasting smile dropped. He didn’t know he was a father. He had died before you had chance to tell him.

“ We had a child?” His voice is weak and raw, entirely devoid of its usual crackle. His eyes hold a deep sadness you had only ever seen in your own reflection. Your posture visibly softens at his sorrowful reaction. The realization hit you: He never got to meet his son. At least you were granted a moment with your baby swaddled in your arms. Alastor hadn't been so lucky. 

“ Yes.. his name is Eugene. He turned 50 last year...He was such a beautiful baby. He had your brown eyes and curly hair. I swear I could almost hear you in his laughter.” The corners of your mouth begin to peak up in response to the remembrance. Despite the short time he had been a part of your life, Eugene was everything you lived for. You endured every sleazy comment and blood splattered old fashioned in the hopes you could see him again. You even went as far to marry the bar’s immoral owner. You suffered a lifetime of abuse and the plight of that man's own children on the half hearted promise you might have been able to regain custody in your newfound stability.

“Did he live a good life?”  He was overtaken with dream-like sun spotted snapshots of you and his son. The hypothetical moments alleviated his guilt slightly. At least in his absence you weren’t entirely alone. Alastor's legs carried him to your side. He wanted nothing more than to wipe the melancholy from your face and offer you comfort. His hand gently outstretched to your shoulder. The silence that overtook the room was hinted in comfort instead of animosity.

“ Yes..he did" you finally respond. 

Your mind wanders to the flower shop he owned downtown and its painted green exterior. The lavender cursive of the sign above it read "Eugene's Fanciful Flowers". He was a complete and total dork, just like his father. The older you got, the more you found yourself walking past it. He had sent you a bouquet of daffodils once. You kept them in the vase next to your bed long after they had begun to wilt and shrivel. You weren't sure how he knew of your existence or even where you lived. He was only 18 months old the last time you had held him in your arms. You weren't really his mother, just a circumstance of his birth. You never had the chance to watch him grow. 

"I just never got to see it” You snap out of your memory inspired daze.

He never got to meet his son because he chose not to. Any remorse you felt was quickly scrapped from your system. You could have watched your son’s mind grow and learned the nuances of his little voice if Alastor had just stayed. That’s all he had to do. You didn���t care if your eventual marriage with him would have crumbled in the process. For all you cared, he could continue his distant nature and whatever wicked deeds he pleased, just as long as he stayed…He made his choice to walk that crestfallen path alone, separating you from him and your son in the process. You shrugged off his soothing hand and turned away, effectively burning a fire flecked wall between the two of you. 

“I had to give him up. The radio show shut down in your absence. I couldn’t support the both of us with what little I made at the bar.” Bitterness seeps into your previously softened voice. You weren’t going to allow yourself to be manipulated by his falsified concern. The mirage of imagined moments you had collected of your son over the years flashed through your mind all at once. You were devastated by the memories you didn’t get the chance to make.

“Y/n.. I am so sorry.” He is nearly frozen in place, shocked by the sudden shift in your demeanor. If you weren’t so angry, the pathetic broken string of words would have shattered your desolate heart.

“ You can stop pretend to care Alastor. You had no issue leaving us then- What do you really want from me? Just get it over with so I can go back to forgetting you exist.”  The short horns peaking out from your hair nearly doubled in size. You were growing frustrated with his half assed excuses and blatant lies. In that moment, you didn’t care if he disappeared entirely. The deserted lovesick island you had so often found yourself stuck on burned to the ground in the back of your mind. 

“Why would I, an overlord, want something from a weaker demon such as yourself. I don’t know who placed that foolish notion into your head, but I assure you, I don’t want anything from you” Anguish accented the pungent inflection of each word. Alastor was growing tired with your antics he didn’t want anything from you other than your forgiveness. He had apologized for the first time in decades, and meant it. Why couldn’t you just accept that? Your resentful resolve exasperated him to no end.

“ I just wanted to see you again, I thought you might like the same, evidently I was wrong.” His typical smile pressed into an uncharacteristic sharp line.

“Will you please just stop?” Your voice raised far more than a few decibels. He couldn’t take the hint, and you were not sober enough to keep reiterating it.

“Darling it has been agony sitting around waiting for you here, only to find out you’re cavorting around with Valentino. Leaving you wasn’t my fault, you can’t blame me for something I didn’t wish to do. As much as I wish to I can’t control my circumstances. I’ve already apologized I don’t know what else you want me to do."  He would gladly do anything you asked to mend the bridges you had set ablaze in your unreasonable fury. He hadn’t meant to die, it just sort of happened. Were you really blame him for his untimely demise?

“Didn’t wish to do? How stupid do you think I am?” You scoffed.

“The only thing I want you to do is leave.” Your voice wavered but the sentiment was strong. He could almost see the fighting spirit that traced your form. Alastor couldn’t help but laugh. He had done nothing but answer your call, and you had the audacity to reject his answer. If you wanted to fight, he would fight with you. If nothing else, it kept you talking to him.

“Naturally, because you are just so much happier leashed to Valentino and spinning around that pole” He taunted, his scornful sneer seeping into his cadence.

"Believe me I'd rather be anywhere else-" You snapped. He had added fuel to the fire and the weight of its introduction flooded you with spite.

“Don’t pretend that you’re any different from him Alastor. You are two sides of the same coin- except unlike you, Valentino actually owns my soul. I have to put up with this shit from him. I’m under no obligation to take it from you. I am not a toy for you to pick up and put down whenever you need something to play with- I’m not some tool for you to use whenever decide you need a favor.” 

You didn’t really believe the words coming from you, you just wanted to hurt him the way he hurt you. Evidently it worked a little better than you anticipated. His eyes contorted into the shape of radio dials, the static erupting from his core in tandem. His height over you nearly tripled, as the horns on his head wept out jet black roots that stretched into the ceiling. His voice distorts into a vicious growl.

“You don’t get to stand here and pretend that I am entirely to blame. It isn’t my fault your life went so poorly. Let’s think reasonably for a moment, provided you haven’t completely lost it. You could have made any number of different choices, but you went with the easiest option, just as you always have. As for your current situation, you did the same. Although I regret not finding you sooner, you clearly had the ability to reach out if you truly needed something. You don’t get to blame me because you finally started to regret your careless mistakes. You have no right to be angry with me for your own choices. Look at how pathetic you’ve become y/n.” He grasps your chin, tilting it to meet your eyes in the mirror. 

“I don’t know how I ever managed to love someone stupid enough to waste their soul on nothing more cheap liquor and lust rolled cigarettes.” 

The radio static that had permeated the room just seconds before fizzled out leaving you alone in the silent pit. His antlers returned to their normal size as he observed the void that replaced your sparkling eyes. As soon as he saw the tears welling up within you, he realized what he had said. 

 In actuality, he didn’t mean a word of it. In his time in hell, he had grown too accustomed to uncovering the insecurity of his opponents. In that moment, he had forgotten you really weren’t one. 

He didn’t truly blame you for anything that had happened. How could he?  He knew he was mostly at fault for the more unfortunate aspects of your life. His heart incessantly throbbed with guilt just thinking of what you must have gone through. He hadn’t known what he left you with in such an unforgiving world. If he had, he would have found some way to pluck the bullet from his skull and return home to you. 

As for the quality of your after-life, he knew the blame belonged entirely to Valentino. You had always been strong, but you had never been cruel. To survive in this hellish landscape, you had to be on some level. You probably would have ended up just another lifeless body bloodying up the street if you hadn’t taken the offer. Valentino had taken advantage of that, and Alastor hadn't been there to help you find another solution. Even if you didn’t want his help, he would never forgive himself if he didn’t find a way to break the deal you had made. 

 “Get out.” You didn’t have enough strength for anything more than a whisper.

 His eyes bore into yours as a single tear slipped down your face. He hadn’t noticed the deep scratches that decorated your cheeks or the dark purple bruises that formed under your contour until that moment. They had been hastily covered in concealer and he hadn’t been close enough to notice the jagged indentations until then. The ears perched atop his head began to twitch as his mind sparked with an entirely different form of rage...As soon as he figured out what twisted soul had dared to lay a hand on you, all of hell would hear their screams. 

 His grasp on your chin softens as he traced the edge of each scratch with his free hand.

“Who did this to you” 

“Get out.” You tear your face from his hold. 

“No I’m not leaving you here” he stated, the desperation of his tone rimmed the edges his lanky frame. He took a step towards you and you took a step away. 

“Get the fuck out Alastor. Now.” Your eyes began to glow a familiar pink. 

“Y/n, I didn’t mean t-“

“Just go” you cut him off before he has the chance to put a word in edgewise. You had been through enough. You didn’t need his excuses to confuse you more. Your eyes squeeze shut as the objects in the room began to float. All you wanted was for him to go away. 

“I won’t leave you again” He stood his ground.

“Leave me alone” You were practically screaming at this point. If he couldn’t listen to your request, you would just have to be louder to make him listen. Your voice reverberates throughout the room, effectively shattering both the light bulbs surrounding your mirror and the mirror itself. The residual glass scattered through the space and into your hair. 

To your surprise, he doesn't respond. The remaining floating objects fall to the ground in a piercing clatter. Your eyes shoot open at the sudden noise.

Other than the abundant mess, there was no trace he had ever been there to begin with. Even the roses he had brought for you had dissipated. You stood alone in the glass covered room, thankful he had taken his leave. The swirling overload of emotion made you feel ill. You replayed the conversation a few times in your head, each replay inspired a deeper feeling of regret and a plethora of questions you no longer had the opportunity to ask. 

A/N:

Hey yall thank you sm for the support I adore each and every one of you!!

Also a note about the content revolving around abusive relationships: This is going to be a bit long winded but I feel it's important to be said. The content in this chapter as well as chapter 2 features some pretty awful depictions of abuse. I want to check in and make sure that this isn't coming off as an overly done cliche or a cheap plot device to further the story. In no way is that my intention. I know that I am a very small writing page but it's important to me that I dont accidentally wind down the same path a lot of larger entertainment companies follow. I've drawn from the experiences of my friends who have gone through similar things as well as my own to try and prevent that. However I am also aware my writing style is a bit..dramatic? If you find that it is coming across negatively, and if you feel comfortable, don't hesitate to message me normally or anonymously. I will gladly listen to anything you have to say!!

[planet-dusk]

☆ raspberry sour ∘ b.c

after a few too many drinks at your boyfriend's party you decide to sleep it off in his room. inebriated, you take a wrong turn and end up in chan's bed instead. but fear not — he'll take good care of you...

─── ☆ pairing: bang chan x f!reader

─── ☆ length: 1.4k

─── ☆ warnings: noncon, somnophilia (yn passed out drunk), fingering, fantasies of breeding yn, unprotected sex, pet names: babygirl, name calling: slut

─── ☆ note: this is a rewrite of an old fic previously posted on this blog. 18+ minors dni. this work contains noncon, proceed with caution if the above warnings could be triggering to you. the characters don’t represent real idols; this is fiction for entertainment purposes only. fictional smut is not a reflection of real life ! always communicate with your partner and practice consensual and safe sex ‹33

─── ☆ skz masterlist ∘ all masterlists

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works anywhere.

You're asleep. In his bed.

Chan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He must’ve had more to drink than he thought. It’s either that or he’s dreaming. 

But when he opens his eyes again you’re still there. You’re on your stomach, one leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee. Your head rests on your arms and the only visible movement is the slow rise and fall of your breathing. 

You look so peaceful. So pretty. 

Chan steps into his room and closes the door behind him. He doesn’t know why he locks it. Out of habit, perhaps. 

But something tells him the real reason. You. He pushes the thought away, deep down to the pit of his stomach, far from the unraveling edges of his conscience. 

The party is still going strong downstairs; he can hear the bass and the cheers from his friends. And while he didn’t have nearly as much to drink as you, Chan feels the titillating buzz of alcohol in his veins. It makes him bolder than usual. 

The right thing to do would be to leave and tell Minho you’ve wandered into the wrong room. Let your boyfriend carry you back to his own bed. 

But even before he steps closer Chan knows he’s already made up his mind. He’s not going to do the right thing. Not tonight. Not when you look so beautiful, spread out on his bed like a present. Like it’s his birthday. 

You’re stunning. He was already painfully aware even though he’s only seen you a handful of times when his roommate had you over. Never long enough to take a good look. Not without it feeling inappropriate. 

As if this is appropriate…but a quick look won’t hurt anyone, Chan thinks. And if the sounds you’re making when you’re with Minho are anything to go by, you’ve never seemed to mind an audience. Surely you know the walls are paper thin. Chan’s lost count of the amount of times he’s cummed to your moans and whimpers filling the apartment. 

He walks around the bed and takes in your features. Your makeup smudged a bit and your skirt has hiked up, barely covering the swell of your ass. 

You’re wearing pink lace panties. The same color as the drinks you’ve been drinking all night. Besides black, it’s his favorite color. 

His cock swells in his pants. 

Fuck. 

If only he could…

Chan palms himself over his jeans. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this. Shouldn’t be thinking about touching his roommate’s girlfriend. But his other hand reaches out before he can stop himself; fingers pressing against the pink fabric, right where your hole should be. 

What happened to just one quick look? Any semblance of self-control is slipping away from him. All he needs now is one touch. You would let him have this, wouldn’t you? You’ve always seemed like such a good girl. He knows you are. 

And he can be good for you, too. Make you feel good. 

He’s not sure if he’s imagining the throbbing of your pussy through the fabric but it turns him on even more. He traces the outline of your hole and trails his fingers down to massage your clit. With slow rubs of his index as not to rouse you, Chan’s surprised to find the material quickly dampening under his touch. 

When he applies a bit more pressure you stir and he freezes, panic flooding him at the thought of getting caught. Your eyelashes flutter and you spread your legs wider before stilling again. 

Chan curses under his breath. His heart pounds in his ears as realization hits him. His cock is painfully hard now, neglected in his pants. The wet patch on your panties is growing and Chan can’t hold back any longer. He needs to see your pretty cunt. 

He pulls the gusset aside, gulping at the sight of your soaked folds. He runs his fingers through them to wet them, plays with your clit, noticing the way your breathing quickens a little. 

“You like that, babygirl?” He whispers, barely audible. “Want some more?”

You let out a soft whimper when two fingers breach you, finding no resistance. Your slick drips over his hand and down his wrist. He toys with you for a while, obsessed with the way your greedy hole swallows his fingers. 

It’s addicting. And he needs more. He needs to feel your snug walls around him. He’s already fucking you with his fingers, what difference would his cock make now? 

Chan brings his hand up to his lips. You even taste delicious. So fucking sweet. He wishes he could bury his face between your cheeks and eat you out for hours. Suckle on your clit and bite your thighs until you’re begging him to stop. 

But he doesn’t have time, so he shoves his jeans down his legs and frees his thick cock. He drags it through your slit to wet it, circling your hole before pushing inside. You whimper again and he stills, brows knitted in worry. He doesn’t want to hurt you. Didn’t he prep you enough? You’re dripping and took his fingers so well —

Then you whine again, canting your hips a little as if to urge him on. 

Chan’s worry dissipates and he chuckles. Even while asleep your body reacts to him. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; he knew you’re a bratty little slut. He’s heard the tell-tale sounds of a good spanking mixed with your loud whimpering more than once. 

Now it’s his turn to feel your warm, wet cunt and Chan can’t believe his luck. He’s sure Minho would want you to feel good too. A pretty girl like you deserves to get fucked every day. 

He bites his lip to stop himself from moaning and starts moving with slow strokes. Your pretty little hole stretches around his cock so well. He can’t get enough of the sight, pulling out completely and watching you clench around nothing. 

He hasn’t even fucked you properly and your body already wants more. 

Chan feels so dirty about taking you like this. It’s wrong and it makes him so fucking hard. He hates how much he enjoys it. Even though he wishes he could fuck you while awake there’s something about using you like this that sends a rush of adrenaline through him unlike anything he’s ever felt before. 

He settles for a slow grind and his fingers find their way back to your clit. He supposes it doesn’t matter if you cum or not (even though he hopes this feels good for you, too) but your hole tensing around his cock whenever he touches the sensitive bud makes him lightheaded. 

You feel so fucking good. As if your body was made for him.

It takes all his strength to stay quiet and his thrusts are getting sloppier now. His fingers press into your hips and your heavy eyelids blink open slowly. Your eyes are glassy, staring into the distance.

“Minnie,” you slur, “s’good.” 

Chan doesn’t reply, tightening his grip instead so he can bury himself deeper between your walls. Your cunt clenches around him and you moan softly, drifting in and out of consciousness.

If you were to tilt your head back you’d see him. How would you react when you realize it isn’t your boyfriend who’s making you feel this good? Would you scream? Would you try to push him away? Or would you whimper and moan louder? 

The last possibility makes his cock twitch. His balls tighten and he pulls out just in time to jerk himself to completion. Chan’s smart enough to not cum inside (the cleanup would be a pain) even though he wishes he could…

He wants to fill you up. Mark you and breed you until his seed leaks out of your spent hole. Instead he spills all over your bare thighs, thick white ropes painting your skin. 

Gently, he wipes you clean with one of his old shirts. He tucks his softening cock away, puts your panties back in place and pulls your skirt down. 

Other than your smudged makeup you look presentable. Your breathing is steady and even as if nothing happened. 

Chan brushes a strand of hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear. Your plush lips are parted slightly and there’s some drool on his pillow. How cute you are... His own lips curve into a smile and he kisses your temple.

Next time he’ll try your pretty mouth.

[cowpokeomens]

Dress

Pairing: Will Ramos x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+ this is straight up self-serving porn!!!!!!! Minors go away!!!! Anyways this has got everything: Biting, p-in-v, blowjobs, fingering (female receiving), breeding kink, big ole praise kink, me projecting how badly I want to swallow William's load, I think that's it but by all means DM me or reply if you think I should add something!

Literally no one hmu unless it's to talk about this photo. It has nothing to do with the story but I wanna fuck him so bad so I'm putting it here. It's my blog I do what I want.

Yes I was listening to Dress by Taylor Swift as I wrote this!!!! Yes it's one of the horniest songs in her discography!!!! Leave me alone!!!!

Anyways.

This is straight up porn, no plot in sight, no beta because I'm insane, no fucks given because I'm a whore! Enjoy.

____________________________________________

Will was about to vibrate out of his fucking skin. 

He’s irritable, too- a far cry from his usual “Sunshine and Rainbows” disposition. People kept trying to make conversation, ask him about the tour, compliment the new album. It would end with a curt, “Yeah, it was a lot of fun,” as his eyes would be dragged from whoever he was talking to back to you.

The dress was unfair. It was diabolical, even. He searched his memory, trying to come up with a reason you’d put him under such physical and emotional duress. He did the dishes last night, made breakfast this morning- he even folded the laundry! In terms of “deserving of death by nefarious garments,” his conscience was clear. 

Yet there you were, clad in the slinkiest little black dress that he never knew you owned. You had spent hours in front of the mirror, perfecting your makeup, carefully styling your hair. It had been fun for him to watch; Fun to listen to your “Ultimate Emo” playlist and jam out while you painstakingly applied a swipe of lipstick, a striking mark of eyeliner. It was fun. 

He stopped having fun the moment you stepped out in the goddamned thing. 

“Zip me up?” You had asked, batting mascara-ed lashes at him sweetly. His brain had short circuited for a second, rebooting completely when it started overheating. Zip you up? He wanted to eat you up, toss you over his shoulder like a caveman and keep you in bed for hours. 

“Where are you going in that?” He asked incredulously. Your breasts were about to fall out, fabric clinging to the small of your waist. There were other details- lace and ribbons and shit he didn’t have the vocabulary for when his head was running on all cylinders, much less now. You turned around so he could reach the zipper better, and he genuinely wondered if the anime nosebleeds were onto something with how quickly the blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your ass stretching the fabric.

“Um, to the jamboree your label is hosting?” You retort with a giggle. “C’mon, we’re going to be late to this shindig if we don’t leave soon.”

He had complied, after some whining, zipping you up and kissing you softly on your shoulder, willing his cock to miraculously soften. 

Then you had arrived, and he was swept away by record executives, you saw a group of gal-pals, and he had to keep his hands to himself.

For hours. 

Will’s hands itched with the urge to reach out and touch you, twitching at his sides. Someone said something that must have been fucking hilarious, because you were laughing, head thrown back, chest heaving-

I can’t do this. He thinks to himself. This is a task for men stronger than me.

Quickly downing the last dregs of his cocktail, he impolitely excuses himself from the group he was speaking with, maneuvering through the mass of people to where you stood. 

“Hi baby!” You call when he enters your line of sight, smiling brightly. You’re in a small group of people who also greet Will upon his arrival, immediately asking about the tour. 

“It was a lot of fun, thanks for asking.” Will mumbles distractedly, eyes never leaving you. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand, love bug?” 

Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Oh, sure.” You quickly excuse yourself from the group, leaving with warm goodbyes and tight hugs. Will thinks he’ll catch on fire before the two of you make it out of the building, but then you’re walking over to join him, the two of you quickly working through the crowd.

“Is everything okay, Will?” You ask when you’re both out of earshot. Concern is evident in your tone, and Will fights the urge to smooth the crease between your eyebrows with a kiss. 

“Yeah, just itchy is all.” He murmurs to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head as you both exit the building. Itchy was a good word; He was practically crawling out of his skin with the urge to get you undressed, underneath him. 

Guilt overtook your pretty features. “Oh baby, was the party too much? If you felt overstimulated, we could have left earlier-”

“No, I’m fine, pretty girl, really. It’s just-” He sighs, stopping in the parking lot to dig his keys out of his pocket.

“Did I do something?” You sound so sad, eyes widening. Will could practically see your mind sifting through the evening, trying to find some misstep.

“No, no baby- stop. I can see you overthinking, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just-” He sighs again, pausing by the car now. He glance around the two of you, making sure you were alone, before guiding your hand to his groin. 

Your eyes went dark at what you found there. “Holy shit, you’re- how long?” You stammer, sounding hoarse.

“Ever since you put on that fucking dress.” He admits sheepishly. 

“C’mon.” You nod towards the car, motioning for him to get inside. 

You made quick work of shutting your door, Will about to start the car when you stop him. 

“Leave it off.” You command, making his eyebrows shoot up in question. “Less conspicuous.”

“Less conspicuous for wha-” Will’s question was cut off as your lips locked with his in a searing kiss. You gripped his shirt in your hands, dragging him closer to you. 

“All hard for me, huh?” You whisper against his lips. 

He’s nodding before he realizes it. “So hard, baby, all fucking night, all for you.”

You’re nodding with him, already drunk off of the power you have over him. “Let’s get you taken care of then, yeah?” 

You tear your lips away from his to better unbutton and unzip his pants, tugging the fabric down the best you could in the cramped space. He hisses as you pull his briefs down so that his cock can spring free. 

“Holy shit.” You breathed, taking him in.

He’s always been big- you were familiar with that part- but you’d never seen him after being hard for hours. The veins on his cock were bulging angrily, the tip shiny with precum and deliciously red. 

“Poor thing,” you say in a saccharine voice, leaning in to kiss the cherry-red tip. 

He outright keens at that, hips barely jerking up, like it was taking everything to hold himself down. “Don’t be mean, pretty girl.”

You give him one last grin before you’re swallowing him down, stopping three-quarters of the way down to soothe your gag reflex.

“Fuck-“ Will gasps into the air, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. His grip tightens, and you feel your control over the situation slipping away. “Fucking tease tonight, huh? Not enough to wear your slutty little dress, couldn’t wait to get my cock in your mouth either, could you?” 

You whimper almost silently at his words, but he feels the vibrations of it on his cock. “Little slut likes that? Does she want me to use her pretty mouth?” He continues, pulling you up by your hair just enough for you to be able to speak.

You relinquish any semblance of control you had when you manage a small, “Please.” 

He grins at you, so far from his regular, cheerful smile, and pulls you in for one last kiss. It’s sloppy and wet and wonderful, and you’re almost sad when he yanks you away by your hair again to guide you down to his cock. 

“Open.” He commands, the gruffness of his voice making you quickly do as you were told. His cock is in your throat immediately, but before you can gag, he’s pulling you back up roughly. You manage half a gasp of air before you’re being shoved back down, swallowing him again. He continues fucking your face at a brutal pace; Soon spit is covering your chin, and you can feel you mascara running down your cheeks in the form of tears. 

“So fucking good for me.” Will grunts, hips thrusting up to meet your face. “Such a good girl, taking what she’s given.”

The praise makes you moan- or at least, as much as you could with him fucking your mouth so thoroughly. You’re lost in the sensation of him so deep in your mouth, breathing deeply through your nose as he uses you. His thrusts start becoming irregular, a chant of your name and “fuck” falling from his lips as his movements grew shorter and shorter. 

Oh, you think. He’s so close, you can see it in the tension of his body, in the drawn-up expression on his face. You want nothing more than for him to finish in your mouth, to make you swallow it down, but he pulls out abruptly, chest heaving with labored breaths. 

“Is something wrong?” You’re pouting, you can feel yourself pouting. 

He sees your face and huffs a laugh, still panting. “Pretty girl wants my cum that bad?”

His words- the vulgarity of them- color your cheeks pink. Although… Yeah. That was exactly what you wanted. You nod, the smallest movement. 

You think you hear him stop breathing, but then he speaks again. “C’mere, honey, I’ll give you what you need.” He motions to his lap, where his cock is beckoning you like a siren at sea. You hastily go to unzip your dress, but he stops you. “Leave it on.” His gaze drags down your form, back up to your throat, where his eyes linger for a moment before he’s looking into your eyes again. “Leave all of it on.”

His words make you shiver, but you obey, crawling over to straddle his lap. He yanks your panties to the side in record time, immediately thrusting two fingers into you. You mewl at the sensation, eyes squeezing shut as your hand comes up to slap over your mouth to muffle the sound. 

“Nuh uh, let me hear.” His voice is in your ear, nose rubbing against the lobe of it. “Let me hear your pretty sounds- God, you’re so fucking wet.”

You could hear him moving his fingers inside you, even over your own noises. You grind down into his hand without consciously realizing you’re doing so, chasing the pleasure his fingers brought you. You open your eyes blearily, wanting to see him, only to find that he’s studying that same spot again, right at the base of your neck. Jutting your chin up so that your throat is completely vulnerable, you give him a meaningful look. 

He accepts the offer, teeth coming down to bite at your pulse point. The moan that escapes you is profane, dwindling to the pathetic whimper of an injured animal as he sucks at the skin where he bit, soothing it with his tongue. Your chest is next, ample cleavage on display for his lips to lock onto, sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin with ease. The hand that’s not fucking into you grips onto your waist to leave another bruise, pulling you impossibly closer.

You know what he’s doing- Marking what’s his, letting everyone know who you belong to. And you couldn’t care less about the perception of it, lost in the pleasure of his lips and the sensation of being owned. Arching into his mouth, your hands tangle in his hair as your legs start to quiver with unadulterated want. 

“‘M close, Will I’m-” You pant, tugging at his hair desperately. 

“I know, pretty girl, be good and come for me so I can fuck you properly.” He whispers into your neck, and that’s all it takes to hurtle you over the edge, shaking with your orgasm even as he replaces his fingers with his cock.

It’s so much more- more girth, more length. It stretches you, fills you up to the brim. You’re still in the aftershocks of coming as he starts fucking you in earnest, yanking you into his chest until you feel like you can’t get a breath in. You’re practically wailing, the sensitivity of getting fucked so quickly after orgasming overwhelming, but it’s perfect. 

“You’re my girl, right?” He’s grunting, holding you stationary while his hips rock up into you at break-neck speed. “My pretty girl, all mine.”

You nod, incoherently babbling, “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours-”

“Want my cum?” He pulls back just enough to look in your eyes. It’s all love there- an all-consuming love that illuminates his gaze like a flame. “Want me to fill you up? Put a baby in you- Keep a baby in you?”

You’re nodding again, unintelligible sounds falling from your lips in response. “Please.” You finally manage to stammer out. 

He’s almost smiling, a joyous kind of pleasure overtaking his features as his thrusts grow erratic for the second time that evening. Your grip on him tightens as you feel yourself get closer and closer, tears springing in your eyes from the overstimulation. 

It hits you like a fucking train, face curled into his neck in a silent scream, legs spasming in every direction. He fucks you through it, coming in hot spurts inside you, thrusts growing sloppier until he finally nestles himself deep within you, setting you down gently in his lap again. 

You’re panting and trembling, completely collapsed against his chest. The both of you sit like that a few long minutes, his hand rubbing at the exposed part of your back soothingly. When you feel an iota of strength return to your body, you’re craning your neck up to kiss his cheek. 

He’s grinning, turning to look down at you. “Well shucks, thanks for the kiss, honey.”

You’re giggling with him, pushing yourself up so that your back is straight. You hiss as the movement moves him inside your sore hole, a shudder passing through your body. 

“You better cut that out, I’ll fuck you again if you’re not careful.” He warns teasingly, hands gripping your hips lightly. 

You flash him a grin, and then ready yourself for the chore of him pulling out. You know it’s going to be tender, but you still yelp as he slips out of you. Flopping into your seat, you give yourself another minute to collect your breath. He tucks his cock away, zipping up his pants carefully and starting the car.

You zone out for a moment, only recognizing the long silence that has stretched between the two of you after a few minutes more have passed. You look over at him, a question on your lips, when the look on his face makes you pause. 

He’s staring in between your legs, a small pout on his face. “It’s leaking out.” 

You throw your head back, barking a laugh at his distress. “I have an IUD as well, my love, I don’t think it’ll work no matter how hard you try.”

His eyes go dark at your words. “Then I’ll just try harder next time.”

Before you can respond, the car is in drive, and you’re headed home. You quickly buckle your seat belt, pulling down the passenger mirror to clean yourself up, stopping when you catch the first glimpse of your reflection.

Your makeup has smeared everywhere. Black streaks run down your cheeks in rivulets, your lipstick smudged around your mouth. Your tits are littered with bruises, lovebites of various colors decorating your skin. You look like a slutty fucking mess, You think to yourself. You’re searching for a napkin to wipe your face when Will speaks up again. 

“Leave it.” He flips on his turn signal, pulling onto your street. His jaw is tight, and you swear you can see a bulge in his trousers. He turns to look at you as he puts the car in park in front of your house, eyes already glossed over again. “Leave all of it.”

[callmelola111]

guilty conscience ☆ part three

 ← part 1 , part 2 ⭑ part 4 , part 5 →

synopsis: it’s your first year at college and you’re 1,500 miles away from home. you’d feel completely alone if it wasn't for your attractive roommate ellie. will this attraction complicate the already uncharted territory? or will she be the answer to all your problems?

      |✯| pairing & wc: college!ellie williams x roommate!reader. wc: 2.7k

      |✯| cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), fem reader, modern au!ellie, HEAVY ANGST, some swearing, heavy on sexual themes, cat lol, reader throws up, drinking, smoking, ellie acting like a piece of shit, almost kinda cheating

a/n: lots of character development in this part. looking forward to the next one though cause it will be getting sick, twisted, and hot. yes everyone, its true, expect some smut!!!! anyways hope you like all this crazy angst. thanks for all the support on previous parts, it means so much to me fr ♡

That night you went home early, never seeing Ellie’s band play. You don’t even have the energy to take off the makeup you had done special for that evening. You quickly changed to your pajamas, then slipped right into bed, all while maintaining a steady flow of tears.

You attempted to go to sleep, in fact, that’s all you really wanted to do. You didn’t want to feel the hurt of Ellie anymore. Unfortunately, sleep wasn’t in your near future. The night continued to play on a loop in your mind driving you insane. You questioned why you ever thought she would feel the same way about you as you did her. You felt stupid. 

Ellie arrived home later that night. Not ready to face her just yet, you turned towards the wall and pretended to sleep. She would’ve fell for it too, but the hitch in your breath as you tried to swallow your sobs gave you away.

“Hey… uh, are you alright?” she gently inquired. Ellie was perplexed, still not understanding why you had stormed out on her and never came back. Has she done something to you? Or maybe you were jealous of Cat? She wanted to hear you say the words.

 “If you think I’m crying over you, I-I’m not. I’m fine.” you finally muttered, putting all your defenses up. You felt embarrassed for feeling so strongly about her. This answer broke Ellie’s heart and she wasn’t quite sure why. She wished you would’ve stayed for her show, it was important, but it seemed like you could care less how your actions affected her. You humbled her in the worst way possible and it made her, in a way, resentful. Resentful enough that she wouldn’t open her eyes to the obvious fact that the two of you were more than just roommates. 

Ellie responded, impulsive and pissed off, “Well fine, I’m glad. I- I really like Cat, and I don’t need you screwing this up for me.”

“Me??? Mess it up for you??? Don’t worry Ellie, you can do that all on your own, believe me.” You cringed hearing yourself be so cruel to the girl you love. You didn’t mean it.

That night neither of you slept and it was like that for the rest of the week. You hung around Dina as much as you could to avoid Ellie's presence. Being around her was like torture. Even more like torture was the fact that you were keeping it all a secret from Dina. You felt like a fool for getting into such a stupid situation. You’d just get embarrassed and start tearing up if you tried to tell her. But that didn’t stop Dina from asking. The other day, the two of you were hanging out and she brought up Cat, or as she liked to call her “the cunt from class”, never bothering to learn her real name. 

“What ever happened with that cunt from class being at Ellie’s show the other night?”

“Oh Cat? Yeah, I guess she just happened to see a flyer and showed up. I don’t really know.” you replied trying not to sound too suspicious.

“Cat? You guys are on a first name basis now?” She chuckled, noticing your sudden unusual behavior, and questioning how you knew her name. You laughed along with her trying to play it off. Dina didn’t wanna pry though, she knew you’d tell her when you were ready. You loved how patient she was with you. You never had those kinds of friends back home. Dina saw your eyes soften as you admired the friendship the two of you shared. 

“What?” she teased.

“I just love you Dina, that's all.” you said matter-of-factly and leaned in for a big embrace. She grabbed the sides of your face and leaned in to plant a kiss on the top of your head. Whatever was going on, she knew you needed the love.

“Love you too y/n.” she smiled back at you. 

Taking advantage of the tender moment Dina mentioned, “by the way, there’s this party happening Friday and I think we should go.”

“I don’t know about a party…” you said reluctantly. You had been so down lately that you didn’t feel like partying, but that’s exactly why Dina insisted you go.

“Pleaseeee Y/n!!! A party would do you some good, You’ve been such a sad sack lately.” She was practically begging, so you gave up and agreed to go.

Meanwhile Ellie was being dragged around by Cat. It’s not that Cat was all bad news. There were some times where Ellie really liked hanging around her but it was mostly when the two of them were alone. Anytime other people came around, Cat’s attitude shifted and she became defensive and insecure. It’s like the presence of others presented this possibility that she could be abandoned by Ellie. Everyone felt like a threat.

Ellie disliked that side of her, but she could also sympathize. She knew what it felt like to be rejected and forgotten about, I mean, you were doing that to her right now. You were barely around anymore, always with that Dina girl. Maybe that was the real reason Ellie kept Cat around;

She knew she would never leave her. And if one day she did, deep down, Ellie knew she wouldn’t really care. Not like how she cares about you.

On Friday you headed over to Dina’s place and the two of you got ready for the party together. Dina did your makeup for you, she even put glitter under your eyes for a special touch. 

“You look so hot bro. The sparkles are adorable, you’re like a little fairy” Dina exclaimed, proud of her work. You looked in the mirror and smiled. You haven't felt this good in a while. Once you guys arrived at the party you went straight to the backyard of the frathouse to smoke. No way you’d be here sober.

You lit the end of the pink joint and said, “I hate to admit it but… I think you were right D. I really did need this.” You took a hit and then passed it over to her.

“What? The joint? Or some quality time with your best friend?” she teased.

“Honestly, both.” The two of you burst into laughter at your blunt response, beginning to feel the high. Even after you finished smoking, you remained outside sitting on the steps. You had gotten so wrapped into conversation with each other that you almost forgot you were at a party. With the sudden realization you were still outside and the sound of Come Get Her playing on the speakers inside, you and Dina finally decided to get up and party.

That is, until Dina gets a call from her sister and has to step aside. You wait for her, leaning on the doorframe. As she talks there’s a serious look on her face. She finally finishes her conversation and looks to you to break the news.

“Y/n I’m really sorry, but I’ve gotta go. A family emergency came up and I gotta go help out my sister like right now.” You could tell by her tone that it was urgent and she genuinely felt bad for having to ditch you. 

She continued, “but you, please stay. I think I just saw Ellie inside and I’m sure she’d be happy to party with you.” Not wanting to reveal your current situation with Ellie, you went along with it. You know Dina was only trying to help.

“Don't even worry about it D. I completely get it, family first. I love you.” you replied, bringing her in for a hug.

“Okay good, thank you for understanding babe. Byeee.” And with that, Dina was gone, and you were left to face this party alone. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was really Ellie that Dina had seen, or if she was just a little too high. Ellie didn’t seem like the frat party type, but honestly, neither did you. Even though you weren’t necessarily on speaking terms with her, you decided to go inside and look anyway.

That’s when you spot her with none other than Cat the cunt. She was hanging all over Ellie, it was almost gross. The sight left you sick and you straight-lined it to the alcohol to take a couple shots. Those couple of shots led to a couple more, and then a couple more as you watched Ellie and Cat practically suck each other’s faces off. You couldn’t stop staring though, it was almost sadistic.

Busy chaperoning the obnoxious couple, you managed to lose track of the amount of alcohol you were consuming. The nausea hit you like a truck and you stumbled to a dirty couch trying to deep breath through the churning of your stomach. A familiar voice interrupts your attempt at self-soothing.

“Y/n?” You look up at the sound of your name coming from your favorite person's mouth. As you opened yours to greet her, all that came out were chunks. Ellie jumped back, just missing the splash zone. Your throw up now soaked the frat house couch and the floor surrounding. And in front of Ellie? How embarrassing. While you were busy cursing yourself in your head for making such a scene, Ellie was cursing herself for not finding you sooner.

The idea of you drunk and all alone at a frat party scared her, and she was your protector. With that scenario flashing through her mind she scooped you into her arms and rushed you to the bathroom. The whole world was spinning as Ellie plopped you onto the floor in front of the toilet. She held back your hair and rubbed your back as you continued to vomit. You were already beginning to sober up as your body rid you of the intoxicating liquid. Ellie pushed at your baby hairs and wiped at the sweat collecting on your temples from the heaving. Despite everything, Ellie really did care for you. She couldn’t stand to see you in pain. And she couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting you either. 

“Come back to my bandmates with me. Please?” Ellie finally spoke.

Feeling the nausea dissipate, you responded, “thanks for your help but I think I’ll be fine just walking back to the dorm.”

“A drunk girl walking 20 minutes across campus, in the dark, alone??? That’s like the stupidest idea you’ve ever had.” Ellie hated how stubborn you were.

“I’m not even that drunk anymore,” you paused for a beat, “but fine. I’ll go with you.” Ellie sighed in relief. She put you under her arm and started leading you to the door. She was so warm and you felt so safe. As she walks outside, Ellie spots Cat and knows she’s in trouble. Ellie gently sits you down on the curb so she can go deal.

“Els, what the fuck is she doing here?” Cat spits as soon as Ellie is in listening distance. 

“Listen Cat, I don’t know, but she’s really messed up and I can’t just leave her here.”

Cat raises her voice, louder this time, “what do you mean?? Are you really picking her over me?”

“I didn’t know I had to pick. Shes my fucking friend Cat.” 

“But- but… I’m your girlfriend” she says, voice trembling with insecurity. 

Ellie turns to leave the exhausted conversation, “it doesn’t work like that. I- I’ve gotta go now, we’ll talk about this later. I'm sorry.”

The next thing you know you’re sitting in a strangers kitchen and Ellie is force feeding you crackers and water, trying to sober you up. Just being there with her is already making you feel so much better. You talk and giggle through the night like you guys had never even fought. A sleeve of Saltines, 3 glasses of water, and 2 Advil later you’re beginning to feel a little more like your normal self.

This doesn’t stop Ellie from coddling you like a little baby for the rest of the night. She took off your makeup for you and even let you borrow the extra T-shirt she had brought in her backpack. You slipped into the bathroom to change into your makeshift pajamas. You stared back at your reflection in the mirror and couldn’t help but smile seeing yourself in nothing but Ellie’s baggy shirt. It was just like in your dreams; except now you were in her clothes for a different reason, not because you guys just finished having mind blowing sex. How unfortunate. You went back out into the living room and stood in front of Ellie.

“So uh, where should I sleep?” you asked with an awkward smile. Your shoulders shrunk in and you fidgeted with your charm bracelet as you waited for a response. The silence continued to drag out because Ellie was too busy imagining her own fantasies. Her heart fluttered as you stood there all coy in her shirt. She pictured you in the same exact outfit making pancakes for the both of you in the kitchen of your shared apartment. She imagined sneaking up behind you to feel your figure through the baggy clothes. She’d plant kisses all over your neck until you would finally turn around from your cooking to give her a real ki-

“Ellie..?”

Your words managed to drag her out of the fake scenario, “shit yeah um. This is a pull out couch so we can set you up there.” Ellie gestured to the couch in the middle of the room and then got up to pull it out. She fixed it up with sheets and a pillow provided by her generous bandmate who was in her bedroom just down the hall. You climbed into the covers and sat as you waited for Ellie to join you. Instead she set up on the floor next to you. 

Confused with her behavior you stated, “you can sleep up here with me. You know that right?”

“I guess I kinda thought you wouldn’t want me to.” Ellie confessed, tilting her head down in shame.

“Of course I want you to Els.” She missed hearing you call her that, how could she refuse? Ellie climbed right into bed and there was an immediate increase in tension. The thought of you right beside her with just a shirt and panties drove Ellie wild. She felt like such a piece of shit for even thinking like that, but part of her wondered if you also felt the rising tension. You both lay on your sides, backs facing each other, when you finally disturb the loud silence. 

“I missed you.”

“What do you mean? We live together.” Ellie wasn’t stupid though. 

“You know what I mean Els.” you answered, voice breaking slightly. Ellie felt so guilty knowing that a lot of this mess was her own fault. She then shifted to face your back and tugged your hips into the space between her thighs and torso. 

“I missed you too…” Ellie said against your neck, sending chills down your spine. Her arm reached past your waist and raised your T-shirt right below the start of your breasts. She took that same tattooed arm and wrapped it around your now bare tummy, pulling you in even closer. Her touch made you gasp.

Ellie was a pretty skinny girl but she was strong, you could see it in her arms, the way they flexed when she played guitar or lifted something. But, when you visualized her touch, you had never imagined it being this soft. You practically melted feeling her skin brush against yours. An ache was radiating between your legs as you clenched your thighs together in agony. You wanted her hands in places other than your plush stomach. Ellie did too, but you were coming down from being completely wasted, and she was still with Cat. It just wasn’t right.

The rest of the night you remained in the same position in fear of losing each other’s touch, but aware that nothing more would happen. Then, that morning, you woke to no touch. Ellie was already gone, and your heart broke all over again. Her guilt had taken over after Cat sent a string of texts expressing her insecurity in the relationship. She explained to Ellie that she didn’t feel loved or important because of her favoring towards you. And Cat was right, Ellie did favor you. She was trying so hard to be “good” and ignore her feelings, trying not to be a cheater, but she was hurting you (the one she truly loves) in the process. Why couldn’t she just let go of Cat? Would you ever experience a night like that with her again?

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(P.S: for future reference, if you'd like to be tagged in the next part plz make sure you have your age visible somewhere on your profile. my blog and writing contains 18+ content and minors should not be anywhere near it. obviously there's only so much i can do but checking accounts who interact is the one thing in my control so yeah. much love-- lola ♡