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hcneymooners · 5 months ago

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⋆ our bodies, two wounds of love.

bodyguard!sevika x f!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: as the youngest daughter of a highly famous businessman, you're not at all what sevika is expecting upon receiving her assignment.

cw: modern setting, soft!sevika, reader is sugar sweet and slightly shy, reader has long hair, obsessive behavior, dubious consent, as in reader wakes sevi up properly like the eater she is but sevi consents when she wakes up, somnophilia, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, implied/referenced sex, via toys, implied strapping as god intended, overstimulation, impact play, it's pussy slapping, nipple play, squirting and vaginal ejaculation, praise kink, pet names, dom/sub undertones, minor violence, reader speaks german in this for no other reason than i've been watching the empress., soft dom!sevika, love confessions, near-death experiences, non-sexual intimacy, age difference, older woman/younger woman, mommy issues, implied lmfao, makeup sex, arguing, resolved sexual tension, masturbation in bathroom, accidental voyeurism notes: this is set to american by lana del rey. listen here. this is more emotionally heavy, but definitely my favorite. does this plot barely make sense? yes. but is the reward worth it? yes. this is a repost.

out of all her clients, you were the easiest.

sevika shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was, given the research she’d conducted. you were the youngest of four daughters, and the public fed off your penchant for privacy. finding someone like you in her line of work was a rarity: no scandals to cover up, no carefully curated drama for the tabloids. your reputation preceded you—sweet, quiet, and often tired. a homebody, mel had said with an almost indulgent smirk when sevika was handed the assignment.

“you’re lucky,” she added. “the others are a handful.”

sevika didn’t believe in luck.

the flat where she first met you was a monument to your family’s wealth. still it was tasteful—ornate without being garish, quiet grandeur woven into every polished surface. it was the kind of space that swallowed sound and softened the world's edges.

your apartment was beautiful in a way that felt intentional but not performative. soft cream and powder blue walls were traced with delicate vines and florals, the details long faded. it wasn’t pristine—scuffs on the wooden floor and fingerprints smudged onto the low, sculptural table in the center—but it was lived-in, loved in a way that gave the space its warmth.

the table itself was an anchor—organic and raw, its uneven edges smoothed by time, surrounded by cushions in muted grays and pale pinks that had lost some of their color to the steady heat of the sun. a shelf of books stretched to the ceiling, its rows crowded with novels and photography volumes, with stacks of loose papers and half-burnt cigarettes scattered between them. the window beside it was cracked open just enough to let in the sound of rustling leaves, the faint scent of rain-soaked greenery curling through the room like an invisible flatmate.

golden lamps shaped like oversized fans stood at either end of the space, their light pooling onto the woven rug beneath. it cast the room in a kind of half-glow—soft, forgiving—blurring the edges of things just enough to make them feel closer. there was something fragile about how it all fit together like it had been arranged for someone who might leave it behind at any moment.

and yet, it felt distinctly like you. the powdered jasmine in the air, the book splayed open on the armchair, the small dish of rings by the window—it was a home that asked nothing of you but to exist in it. sevika’s stormy gaze caught on an abandoned note on the window sill, the script delicate and curling.

cochem, it read. i miss you. i want to come back to you. i want to disappear inside of you and have you love me again. i want to get lost in the german morning. no one will ever know me, and i’ll be happy, less unfulfilled.

she fingered the edges of the paper, sun-bleached and flaking. then she began to walk again, navigating to what looked like the open door of your study.

you were waiting for her inside, perched in an armchair too big for your frame, as if the room had been designed to diminish you. at first glance, you looked as delicate as the furniture you sat on, barefaced and bathed in soft afternoon light that filtered through sheer curtains. it was the kind of light that made everything look fragile and translucent.

you wore an ivory blouse, thin and shimmering with embroidery that seemed to grow out of the fabric like frost patterns on glass. the neckline skimmed your collarbones, modest but deliberate, while the sleeves flared past your wrists, draping like petals. the cinched waist and pale drawstrings might have belonged to someone dressing for comfort, but on you, it was something else entirely—careless elegance.

the sweatpants should have broken the illusion. they didn’t. instead, they made you seem more unreachable, more unstudied. as if you’d wandered into this world from somewhere else—someplace softer—and were still too young to realize you didn’t belong.

sevika lingered in the doorway for a beat longer than she meant to, her presence large enough to make the room feel smaller. she expected you to bristle at the intrusion, to draw yourself up with the same cool hauteur that so often marked women of your standing. but you didn’t.

you looked up at her, eyes wide and unguarded, and smiled.

“hello,” you said. your voice was so soft, as though you feared disturbing her.

sevika’s eyes swept over you, cataloging every detail: the way your hair—long and heavy—spilled over your shoulders, catching the faint streaks of the incoming light; the way your blouse seemed to ripple as you moved, fabric clinging like a whisper to your skin.

“i’m sevika,” she said finally, voice low and steady. “your father hired my team's services to protect your family. i’ll be your bodyguard.”

you nodded and rose from the chair, the movement unhurried and deliberate. you smoothed your palms over the sides of your sweatpants—grey, nondescript, somehow lovely in the context of you—and stepped closer. you smelled faintly of something soft and fleeting: fresh linen, maybe, or soap.

“it’s nice to meet you,” you said, extending your hand, sincerity tucked neatly into every word.

sevika didn’t take it right away. there was something strange about you—something that tugged at her instincts and told her to look closer. your face was open, unguarded, but there was a sadness there, too, stitched into the curve of your mouth, in the way your lashes fell low. she watched the way you stood there, chin lifted just enough to suggest poise but not pride, eyes wide and unguarded as they searched hers for something she wasn’t used to giving.

trust.

and for the first time in a long while, sevika found herself unsure of what to do. you weren’t like the others, all obvious disdain and high expectations. nothing was demanding about you—nothing calculated or sharp. just the soft curve of your mouth, the quiet pull of your gaze, and a kindness she didn’t quite know how to meet.

she clasped your hand firmly but briefly, clearing her throat as she stepped back.

“we should go over security protocol,” she said gruffly, falling back into professionalism as a defense.

you only nodded, that same soft smile still lingering. “of course. whatever you need.”

whatever you need.

sevika didn’t believe in luck, but standing there, looking down at you—your long lashes fluttering as you turned your gaze away, the afternoon light casting faint shadows through the sheer sleeves of your blouse—she wondered, for just a second, if this was as close to it as she would ever get.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

it took three years for both of you to understand that your relationship had outgrown the typical bounds of client and employee. yes, intimacy was inevitable given the circumstances, but even a stranger would’ve seen something uncanny about how you and sevika were… connected, even for a bodyguard.

love affairs always look different to those inside them. you thought nothing of how deeply you needed her, how fondness for her had quietly rooted itself in you. sevika risked her body—her life—to keep you from harm, and it felt natural to bond, to grow into one another. time spent apart became more agonizing only relieved by the hours you were together, yet you ignored the weight of it.

your sisters often spoke of it, though only behind closed doors. you rarely engaged in their chatter. you had always been this way: dreamy, untethered, with a mind like mist and the heart of a prey animal. lame, your mother had called you, her voice sharp with disappointment. sickly, she added, as if naming your frailty might cure it. over time, it became easier to withdraw, to wrap yourself in silence, and let the world chatter on without you.

but with sevika, life required less effort. you rediscovered a tenderness for the act of living in her presence. she was patient, grounding. she found you tolerable even at your worst, and for that, you adored her. no one else had made you feel this way—not men, not women.

while you preferred women, you had dabbled with men, more out of curiosity than desire. it felt clinical, an attempt to decode them like puzzles, perhaps to better understand why you and your father clashed. women, on the other hand, unraveled you.

the realization of your love came in two parts. the first arrived in the languid quiet of a holiday evening at your family’s upstate estate.

you had overexerted yourself in a lagree class, and sevika, ever watchful, had drawn you a warm bath. you watched her through the crack of the bathroom door, your gaze catching on the soft swell of her hips, the worn strength in her movements as she stretched after finishing readying the bed for sleeping. you often shared when traveling. she sat on the edge of it, her familiar perch, closest to the door. she always did this.

it was the smallest things about her that undid you: the way her hair slipped loose from its strict ponytail, the gentle sway of the gold chain brushing against her collarbones. you’d bought her that chain during a weekend in stockholm. now, the sight of it filled you with a sudden, vicious envy. you wanted to be that close to her—always.

the need consumed you. your body buzzed with an unnamed energy, teetering on the edge of itself. you wanted to crawl out of your skin and into hers, to dissolve completely against her warmth. you wanted her blood to run through your veins, her marrow to fuse with yours. your desire was feral, deranged, trembling like a dying pathetic thing.

without thinking, your hand slipped between your thighs. the thought of her—the sharpness of her profile, the tender press of her hands on your waist at the farmer’s market earlier—burned in your mind. you focused on the ridge of her nose, her beautiful nose. everything about her pleased you.

your fingertips pressed harder into the rosy pearl of your clit, and with a wounded cry, you came undone, trembling, your gaze locked on her through the crack in the door.

as if summoned by your thoughts, sevika lifted her head and met your eyes. her stern gaze pinned you, and you sank beneath the water with sudden embarrassment, your skin flush with heat.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

the next morning, your pleasure still lingered via a morning glow on your skin. you woke to find sevika beside you, her strong shoulders rising and falling with the rhythm of her sleep. you lifted a hand and stroked her brow, cooing softly as she murmured from somewhere deep within her sleep.

she, you thought, is every woman i’ve ever wanted.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

the second realization came during an attempt to kill you.

you were the chosen target—a calculated decision. your public image, carefully nurtured by those who sought to use you, made your death a tragedy worth orchestrating. the explosive had been hidden cleverly in the heart of your favorite restaurant, the one you frequented for its thick slices of fresh bread and macadamia milk.

when it detonated, your world fractured. your vision blurred, your ears rang, and blood trickled warm and sticky down your face. the floor rose to meet you, the lacquered wood pressing cold against your cheek. the world went in and out like the weak signal of a radio. someone was screaming—it might have been your mother, though you doubted she cared enough to wail like that.

through the haze, a hand cupped your jaw, firm but careful, and your head was turned until your eyes locked on sevika’s. her gray gaze steadied you, cutting through the chaos. you raised a hand, your french manicured tips trailing lightly against her cheek. one of them, you noticed, was broken.

“[name]. [name], look at me. don’t take your eyes off me.”

“vika,” you whispered, the name slipping from your lips like a prayer. for the first time, you saw fear flicker across her face.

“it’s me,” she said softly. “you’re going to be fine, but i need to get you up. i need to get you out of here.”

you didn’t want to move. here, cradled in her hands, was where you wanted to stay.

“i can hold you, princess,” she murmured, her voice impossibly tender. “if that’s what you want. but i have to move you first. deep breath, okay? here we go.”

she lifted you as though you weighed nothing, her strength unyielding. you clung to her, your broken nails digging into her skin as she carried you through the wreckage. bodies lay strewn across the floor, and your heart broke when you recognized the familiar face of a favorite server.

“it’s okay,” sevika said, her voice a steady anchor. “look at me. just keep looking at me.”

and you did. your gaze drifted to the soft curve of her throat; your face tilted toward her as though she were the sun.

when she laid you on the stretcher, a terrible fear seized you. you reached for her, desperation clawing at your chest.

“stay with me. bitte. bitte, ich flehe dich an.”

sevika froze. if it had been anyone else, she might have refused and headed back to assess the security breach. but it wasn’t anyone else. it was you.

“i’m right behind you, sweetheart,” she promised, her hand pressing firmly to your stomach. “right behind you. just in that car.”

“danke, vika,” you murmured, your voice breaking. “du bist das, was ich brauche. nur du.”

even as the ambulance doors closed, your eyes never left her. you focused on the faint hum of her engine trailing behind you, the sound steady against the fevered rush of your heart.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

sevika was unforgiving after that, and you selfishly enjoyed the over-attention.

she stole you away, back to your flat, and hovered. always within reach, always watching, her presence as constant as the air you breathed. you hated it. you loved it.

she insisted on being in the room while you bathed, while you ate, while you tried to pretend your body wasn’t trembling from the aftershocks of the explosion. the weight of her gaze pressed into your skin like a second layer. she dressed your wounds with quiet efficiency, her fingers steady but firm, and even when you flinched, she refused to soften her touch.

“you should’ve told me this one was hurting,” she murmured one evening, crouched at your side with a damp cloth in hand. her voice was scolding, but there was an undercurrent of something wounded beneath it—something that hadn’t healed properly since the restaurant.

“it’s fine,” you said, looking anywhere but at her.

“it’s not fine,” she snapped, gripping your wrist a little too tightly before loosening her hold. “you don’t tell me when you’re in pain. you don’t—” she stopped herself, shaking her head as if to clear it.

her jaw worked, muscles tight, and you stared at the curve of her throat as she leaned over you, wiping dried blood away with the kind of precision that only made your chest ache.

“you’re smothering me,” you said softly, more to yourself than her, but her head snapped up like you’d struck her.

“you almost died,” she bit out, and the words made you flinch harder than her grip.

“but i didn’t,” you countered, hating the way your voice trembled.

you could be such a child. it crippled you, your desire to please her, to be less burdensome. she’d kill you if she knew what you were thinking. thank god it was your secret.

sevika’s lips parted, but no words came. just that unfaltering, infuriating look—one that said she knew better, that she always knew better, and that you knew this to be true. you raised a finger, traced the glistening edges of her teeth. she kept her mouth open; she never bit down.

and then one evening, you decided you’d had enough.

“i’m going out,” you said, pulling a thick coat of fur—vintage—over your shoulders.

sevika, seated in the chair by the window, didn’t look up from the blade she was sharpening. “no, you’re not.”

“yes, i am,” you replied, voice clipped.

her eyes flicked up to meet yours, the air thickening.

“why would i agree to that?” she asked, standing slowly, her full height suddenly overwhelming in the small space. “why would i let you walk out of here after i almost lost you last time?”

you laughed bitterly, shaking your head.

“let me? you’re not my keeper, vika.”

“really?” she said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous octave. “should we do another read of my contact? i’m the person who pulled you out of the rubble. i’m the person who’s been keeping you alive, no thanks to your recklessness.”

“recklessness?” you snapped, whirling to face her fully. “if you’ve learned anything these past years, it is that i am rarely reckless. you promised me. you said you wouldn't be another dictator. you know what my life’s been like. i am allowed to have a life outside of this, outside of what has happened to me.”

her nostrils flared, and for a moment, she just stared at you, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“you think i’m doing this for me?” she asked, her voice rough, uneven. “you think i like this?”

“yes,” you spat, the frustration spilling out of you in an unstoppable wave. “this is the most excitement i’ve given you. you must think i’m so fucking boring all of the time. so, yes, i think you’re enjoying it. it makes you feel important. ”

something in her cracked. she closed the distance between you in two steps, her hand shooting out to grip your chin, tilting your face up to hers.

“i'm enjoying this?” she growled, her breath hot against your skin. “watching you get hurt? wondering if this time i’ll be too late? don’t mistake my care for control.”

her grip softened, her thumb brushing your jaw, and suddenly, the room felt unbearably small. you could see the pulse in her throat, the heat in her gaze as her eyes searched yours.

“sevika,” you said. your self-righteousness had passed, and you were so deeply ashamed. “vika, that was unfair. i’m sorry. forgive me.”

her hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the solid warmth of her body against yours. her breath was shallow, her jaw tight, but her eyes—god, her eyes. they burned with something that made your knees weak.

“bitte,” you whispered.

“i’m trying,” she said, her voice trembling, “to keep you safe. to keep myself from—”

she cut herself off, her gaze flicking to your lips. and before you could say anything, before you could breathe, her mouth was on yours.

the kiss was searing, all teeth and desperation, her hand tightening on your waist as if she was afraid you might disappear. you gasped against her, your hands finding their way to her shoulders, her neck, her hair. but just as quickly as it began, it ended. she pulled back, her breathing ragged, her eyes dark and stormy.

“don’t push me like that again,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

and then she was gone, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving you alone with the echo of her touch.

you crumpled like a paper doll and began to sob. outside, sevika, having turned back, pressed her forehead against the wall. absent-mindedly, the fingers of her prosthetic twitched and aborted their motions, jerking against the door as if fighting to feel you there.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

you needed to repay her for your abhorrent behavior.

you tried through what you knew: lavish breakfasts, waking up early to purchase her favorite flowers and sweets. you’d even carefully cleaned and oiled her prosthetic. sevika said nothing, if only not to further provoke your guilt, but you could tell she felt it was unnecessary. she was always too easy on you.

the universe, however, seemed to agree with you, and the opportunity to protect sevika came faster than you ever expected.

it was another attempt, this time at a crowded gala in the heart of the city. you hadn’t wanted to go, but sevika had insisted—you wanted to go out. besides, you need to be seen. send a message. and she had been there, of course, always in the background, a silent shadow at your side.

you saw the glint of the blade before she did.

it was instinct. your body moved before your mind caught up, and suddenly, you were between sevika and the would-be assassin, your arm jerking upward to deflect the strike with the heavy bracelet you wore. the metal screeched against the blade, and a sharp pain radiated up your arm, but you didn’t falter.

with your other hand, you snatched a knife from the cocktail table behind you. it was small but sharp, and you used it without hesitation. you didn’t feel the burn of the blade as it nicked your palm on the thrust; you only felt the sickening resistance of flesh before the assailant crumpled at your feet.

“get down!” sevika’s voice was a thunderclap, her hand gripping your shoulder as she shoved you behind her. she moved with terrifying precision, her body a blur of strength and fury as she assessed the situation in seconds.

the room was instantly bursting with chaos. a flash of silver caught your eye as sevika swung her prosthetic arm, sending one of the other assailants sprawling. blood slicked the floor, and the copper tang of it hung heavy in the air. your ears rang with the cacophony of fists, steel, and slit flesh.

you shouldn’t have done that; you knew this. the headlines would be more than money could hide.

“fuck!” sevika’s voice cut through the din, sharp and furious, as she turned to find you standing there, breathing hard, your hands stained red. “what the hell did you do?”

“i—i had to,” you stammered, your chest heaving. “you didn’t see him—”

she grabbed your arm, dragging you toward the far side of the room where the air was clearer and less stifling. the fight was dwindling; the attackers were now being rounded up by security, but sevika’s fury was just beginning.

“what were you thinking?” she hissed, her voice trembling. “do you have a death wish?”

you ripped your arm from her grasp, your own anger bubbling to the surface.

“i was saving you! or would you rather i let him stab you in the back?”

“i don’t need you to save me!” she snapped, stepping closer, her broad shoulders towering over you.

“maybe i need to,” you shot back, tears pricking at your eyes. “i refuse to just sit here and watch you die for me. i won’t. you can’t ask that of me.”

her expression faltered, the rage in her eyes dimming, replaced by something heavier, something more understanding. she often forgot how young you were.

“princess, it's not—you don’t understand,” she said. “if anything happened to you—”

“you’d what?” you interrupted, your voice wavering as you stared up at her. “fall apart? i wouldn’t be any different, vika. you're far from inconsequential. i could not survive a world without you.”

the silence between you was deafening. her gaze dropped to your trembling hands, still clutching the bloodied knife, and she let out a low, shuddering breath. more security personnel arrived, breaking the stalemate. the room was secured, and sevika took that as her cue to remove you from the premises, dragging you through the back corridors, her hand iron-tight around your wrist.

the moment the door to your shared suite slammed shut, she spun on you. her eyes glistened as she glared at you, her body taut like a bowstring.

“you don’t get it, do you?” she said, stepping closer. “i can’t—” she broke off, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“you can’t what?” you asked, shifting toward her. “vika, tell me.”

her jaw worked, the muscles in her neck tightening as she tried to hold herself together.

“i feel like i’m so close to losing you,” she said finally, her voice low and broken.

the words hit you like a punch to the chest.

“you won’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i can’t be without you in any way. i won’t allow it.”

her eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. the space between you was so heavy. all you wanted was to smooth the worried line of her forehead, to share water with her, and wipe her clean.

“you can’t promise that,” she said finally.

you watched as she turned from you and slipped into the bathroom to begin getting ready for bed.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

she woke up with your head between her thighs.

sevika might’ve been more pleased about it if it wasn’t in the middle of the night. still, it wasn’t the worst way to come to.

the warmth spidered from her thighs to her hips before coiling tightly in her stomach. her eyes fluttered open, disoriented and struggling to focus. she heard you first: the wet suck of your mouth against her swollen, brown folds. you moaned somewhere deep and hidden in your chest, your hands tightening around the thickness of her thighs even though she was not yet bucking.

it took a while for her to place herself, and then it crashed into her all at once. she gasped and tucked a hand into your hair, which you removed so that you could intertwine your fingers, pressing them away from her head.

you unlatched from her and pressed a soft kiss into her stomach.

“stay still,” you commanded. “please.”

she allowed it.

you worked at her over and over, pushing the back the hood of her clit so you could roll it between your fingers like a rosy pearl. sevika let her pleasure crest until she shuddered into an unearthly orgasm, her legs snapping shut around your head just as a roll of thunder sounded through the early morning.

"couldn’t sleep?" she rasped.

you slowly unfastened her legs and raised your head from where you had been lapping at her, your full mouth glistening with her arousal. sevika sat up fully, legs shifting beneath the butter-yellow comforter, and stared down at you.

you looked back at her with wide eyes like she’d caught you sinning. you. you with your puppy eyes and open mouth. you, with your sweetness, with your eagerness when it came to her. you like a doe on the open road.

"no," you told her. "i couldn’t accept the idea that you hated me."

she sighed and cupped your cheek, thumbing across the plush skin.

"when you do or say something that displeases me, that doesn’t mean i hate you."

"if you’re displeased," you said, your voice thick across the last word, "then it feels the same to me."

with a huff of irritation, she yanked you up and into her lap, guiding you into a bruising kiss.

it wasn’t like the last time. this wasn’t desperation or fear—it was need. pure, unrelenting need. her hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against her, and you gasped into her mouth, your fingers tangling in her hair.

she shifted you easily, rolling over so that you fell beneath her. her eyes roamed over you, dark and hungry, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“you drive me insane,” she murmured, her voice rough as her hand trailed down your side.

“good,” you whispered, pulling her back to you.

soon, kissing wasn’t enough. you had hungered for her for so long, and she for you.

wetly, your lips broke apart, and she slid back to survey you. the soft, muted light of the room caught on the intricate lace of your undergarments. the set was exquisite; the bra cupped you perfectly. you saw sevika's jaw tighten, her hands flexing at her sides as though restraining herself from reaching for you.

“you look…” her voice faltered, her control waning. “fuck, princess.”

heat spread across your body, and you felt the lace press a little tighter against your skin as your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

sevika leaned in, her eyes never leaving yours. her hand rose, hesitant at first, before her fingertips brushed the embroidered lace at your shoulder. she traced the pattern down your arm, her touch light but burning, before resting her palm at your waist.

“you wore this for me?” she murmured, her voice low and dark, as her thumb swept over the sheer fabric, catching on a pebbled nipple.

“who else?” you answered, a tremor in your voice as her hand slipped to the small of your back, pulling you up into a soft arch.

she hummed in satisfaction and gently pulled your bra down so that it dipped beneath your tits as they spilled further into view. steadying you with a hand on your stomach, sevika leaned down and coaxed a hard bud into her mouth.

the wet heat of her mouth was akin to a strike of lightning. you moaned as she increased the pressure of her teeth, suckling eagerly at your chest as you pushed desperately into her touch. by instinct, your legs rose to cross behind her hips, forcing her to settle on top of you.

she let go of your nipple with a wet pop and switched to the other, beginning to work her way down your body with a pleased exhale. your panties didn’t even put up a worthy fight. they just slid right down, the fabric bunching around your thighs. the scrap of fabric had barely covered your cunt anyway, your thatch of hair poking through as if to tease her.

she watched your lips gleam and glisten, your pussy drooling with arousal and as deliciously plump as the rest of you. sevika pressed her mouth against it, practically a dog in heat, and relished the way you shivered up against her.

“vika,” you moaned and turned your face to the side in the way you did when you were overcome with embarrassment.

“baby,” she murmured, shifting so that she could force you to look at her. “baby, is this all for me?”

you whined, and sevika smirked, dipping her head down to lick a flat stripe up your dripping cunt.

“vika, fuck,” you cried, and she hummed, hooking a hand around one of your legs to pull it up so that you were further exposed. your clit was swollen and calling out for her.

pulling back, she used her free hand to part your lips so that she could watch the way you clenched around nothing. slick ran steadily down to the crack of your ass, a syrupy stream of desire. carefully, she stroked a metallic finger through your heat, holding you down as she began to rub your clit in tight circles.

“look at that pussy,” she murmured. “can’t believe it’s all mine, princess. thank you. thank you, baby.”

sevika couldn’t help herself and lifted her hand, bringing it down to slap against your cunt. you squealed, and she pressed a kiss to your thigh, delighting in your loss of composure. she considered you beneath her, your body slick and shining with sweat as you writhed. she rained two more strikes across your pussy in quick succession, dropping her head down and sliding her fingers in to let your buck into her open mouth and lolling tongue.

“taste so fucking good, princess,” she purred into you. “that’s it. ride my face, sweet girl. take what you want from me. take what you need.”

you gripped the bed, angling her hips so that you could drag her deeper into the cavern of your cunt. mewling, you trapped her between the link of your legs as you snapped upward and arched, cumming with a high sob.

“oh my god, vika.”

“just me,” she teased.

sevika waited for a couple of seconds before pushing up and rearranging you, sliding your back against her chest. carefully, she pushed your legs back apart and tucked three fingers up into your cunt, building a rhythm until she was thrusting hard enough that the overstimulation made you scream. you curled over yourself, your nails raking down her muscled thighs.

she milked you, patient and unrelenting, until you began to bounce on your own. you rode her hand. hard. slowly, your gummy walls tightened around her, whimpering through the flashes of pain and pleasure before you came again with a silent wail. sevika held you as you shook apart, whispering a stream of steady praises into your ear.

“good girl,” she cooed. “look at how good you are, princess. you needed this, huh? you’ve been begging for it, so desperate to cream all over me. such a good fucking girl.”

you slumped down, whimpering weakly as she pulled away from you. you felt her get up, slipping off the bed and walking somewhere into the darkness of the room. soon, she returned but not alone. you began to come back to yourself, and in doing so, you were able to focus on what she held in your hands.

“vika, that won’t fit.”

in her hand was a navy harness and matching dildo, girthy and ribbed. you tilted your head as she closed in, your hands finding her waist as if by instinct.

“sevika,” you whispered, your voice breaking as her lips trailed down your jaw, her teeth grazing your throat.

“quiet, baby,” she muttered against your skin, and you sighed softly, the sound catching in your throat as her hands slid lower, gripping your hips with a possessiveness that made you shiver. "you know you can take it."

you let out a pathetic, wet cry as she prodded at your puffy cunt, and her face softened. she pulled you closer, peppering your face with soft kisses. there was only her—her heat, her weight, her breath against your skin.

again she watched you, gripping you firmly from beneath your thighs as she nestled the tip of the dildo at the entrance of your pussy.

“princess,” she called to you, and you blinked blearily, clutching at her. “consider this forgiveness.”

it was all you ever wanted.

translations. bitte — please. bitte, ich flehe dich an — please i beg of you. danke — thank you. du bist das, was ich brauche. nur du. — you are what i need. only you.

#sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #wlw smut #arcane smut #sevika arcane #mine ; 🐎.

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kitysugar · 7 months ago

Text

jealousy ~ park sunghoon x reader

౨ৎ inspired by this request !! ♡ ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 성훈 ] ☆ in which sunghoon brings you to a brand event - but due to the public eye and your secret relationship , he can't be all over you the way he wants to - but when he sees multiple men try and put their grabby hands all over his woman shamelessly , he patiently waits until the two of you get home to show you who you belong to.

word count ; 5.8k

dom! mean! sunghoon x sub! reader . jealousy , smacking , gentle head lock , possessiveness , heavy degrading , praise , orgasm denial , heavy overstimulation , manhandling , face fucking , cnc , choking, spit kink , power dynamic , rough play , restraints , impact play , nicknames (slave , slut , cum slut , cock whore , daddy , literally all the names u can even think of), sunghoon is absolutely ruthless im SORRY. not proof read

"you look absolutely gorgeous, my love" sunghoon's voice breaks you out of your trance , his figure coming into view through the reflection in the mirror. you taper with your lipgloss , perfecting the pink tint on your lips.

sunghoon's arms wrap around your waist , bringing your frame into a hug from behind. you blush at his actions , leaning into his touch. you pop your lips , finishing with your makeup. his thumbs rub gentle circles on your waist through the little black dress you found yourself wearing.

your hands reach for the jewelry box on the counter, grabbing a beautiful Vivienne Westwood three stringed pearl necklace with her signature logo in the middle. the thick piece of jewelry compliments your collarbones and breasts that sit nicely in your dress. you then reach over to grab your Dior perfume, spraying your wrists before rubbing them together, followed by sprays behind each ear, the center of your neck, and chest.

the way you look is driving sunghoon up the wall and he begins thinking to himself how this prada event isn't really that important - he would much rather stay in your shared apartment with your clothes on the floor with your throat stuffed.

"are you ready baby?" you turn and ask him , putting on your ysl heels as a finishing touch before grabbing your little purse that holds nothing besides a couple tampons , advil , a condom , and a small travel tube of your favorite perfume . sunghoon swears you look like the most perfect doll , especially with your curled hair and big eyelashes that make your eyes even bigger than usual.

"im so excited, I haven't been to a brand event, let alone a party before" you borderline squeal , making sunghoon chuckle at your enthusiasm.

"I would much rather be here with you though , do we really have to go" he wraps his arms around your smaller frame completely , dipping his head into the crevasse of your neck before trailing kisses down your skin. your face heats up at the feeling of his wet , full lips on your skin. the heat pooling in your panties from your boyfriends hands gently caressing your body really does make you want to stay at home with him tangled in the sheets for just a moment.

you turn around in his hold , looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"I've never been to one of these and you go all the time" you pout before finishing your sentence

"I really wanna go , im so excited" you smile up at him . sunghoon almost swears he fell in love with you all over again; you're so fucking cute. he presses one last kiss on your forehead before detangling his arms from your body in order to grab your hand , leading you out of the bathroom and towards the front door.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

sunghoon kisses the tips of your fingers before getting out of the car , mumbling a quick "I love you" before he steps out into the cold air surrounded by a crowd of fans. the private driver circles around the block before dropping you off in the same spot , making sure no suspicions arise in the media.

sunghoon and you have been dating for a couple years , so you know all about his life as a famous Kpop group.

with your boyfriend being a famous musician, comes the demand of the company. you constantly have to make sure you aren't being followed , and you aren't allowed to be seen with sunghoon in public, so that means the two of you aren't allowed to go into public together unless it was to a private establishment.

you have your own way of living and line of work - a fashion line filled with jewelry , clothing , wallets , purses , you name it.

you worked unbelievably hard to get where you were now , so your presence being at a party like this wasn't weird at all , you just never accepted any invitations until your beloved boyfriend convinced you to go with him.

you walk into the building , head high and a walk full of confidence. you dont see him , but he sees you and oh god the way you hold yourself makes him want to strip you of all confidence and bend you over the nearest table and fuck you absolutely stupid.

you feel sunghoons eyes on you , but you can't find him.

you're not exactly complaining , you like feeling as if you were being watched. so when you go over to the bar and ask the tender to get you your favorite drink , the heat pooling in your panties deepens.

you turn around in your bar stool, one of your legs crossed over the other as you sip on your drink. your eyes instantly lock with his from across the room , your pearly necklace shining in the dim lighting.

there you are

he's standing next to sunoo and jay , the two of them talking about whatever as sunghoon's eyes stare into yours. your cheeks heat up at the attention he's giving you as you turn your head to look for other people you know

you see quite a few celebrities , all of the enhypen members , and other people you don't know. you wish you had a girl friend to hang out with at these events; that was one of the main reasons you never went... you didn't know anybody. you weren't a celebrity , a music artist... you were a fashion designer who never showed her face- the press was too much for you. the only events you go to being fashion shows that your masterpieces were in.

you sigh to yourself, watching the clock above the bar click to the second hour you've been here. you go to take your phone out of your purse , only to be met with a stranger on the left side of you , and another on the right. they're both men... maybe in their mid 30's. you sigh to yourself , throwing your head back as you down the shot in your hand.

"can I help you?" you ask them, unamusement laced in your tone. the man on your left smiles at you fondly, and the familiar feeling of a certain set of eyes burns the back of your head , making your lower abdomen tighten and your thighs to slowly clamp together .

you fakingly smile back at him , deciding to play one dangerous game.

"you're a stunner , you here alone beautiful?" he was a decently attractive man , but nothing compared to the one who stands across the room burning holes into the back of your head. you smile at his compliment , fidgeting with the ring on your left hand- your promise ring.

"and if I wasn't?" you play your card , the two of you staring at each other .

"It was a rhetorical question , I don't care if you're here alone or not" he smirks at you , making you feel uneasy.

unbeknownst to you , sunghoon has moved closer to the bar , now able to hear your entire conversation that plays out as heeseung talks with him about something that doesn't really matter.

he hears you when you thank the random man for buying you a drink, he also hears your fake ass giggle when he says something 'funny'.

he conceals his growing anger , continuing to chat with heeseung and another random ambassador, his ears still perked up to your conversation- a split attention that sunghoon has learned to master.

you can feel him grow closer - but you can't see him yet as he's moved places. you know he can hear you - you can feel it. so when the random men begin to shamelessly flirt with you , you can't help but pay right into their pawn.

"y/n l/n is you?" one of the men ask in excitement , making you smile fondly. you nod your head yes at his words , taking another sip of your now non-alcoholic drink.

"god your clothing line is absolutely beautiful, especially when you're the model..."

"but it would look much better off of you" you almost choke at his words, now feeling completely uncomfortable around these two men. you shift in your seat , eyes shakingly trying to find your lover.

you shouldn't have toyed with them , you really shouldn't have. sunghoon is watching you , perched in a dark corner of the room as you desperately search for him.

he smirks at your frantic behavior - maybe you shouldn't have started talking with them. play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

"I should really get going , I have another-" you try to make your exit , but are rudely cut short.

"stay a while pretty , we've still got so much to talk about" your skin crawls when one of them grabs your thigh , and sunghoon immediately sees your face drop.

you can flirt with whoever you like, sunghoon has no problem with it because the both of you know that you belong to him. his name is the one you'll be screaming at the end of the night.

but when someone puts their slimy hands on his woman , that's where he draws the line.

"get your hands off of me. I'm engaged and I swear to god-" you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder , cutting your words short as you look up and see your boyfriend making direct eye contact with the man who has his hand on your thigh.

"let go of her, now." he demands , and the man obeys shakingly. he smiles down at you before continuing , rubbing gentle circles on your shoulder with his thumb.

"as my fiance was saying before you rudely interrupted her; we should really be going now" he says before dragging you out of the building and towards his private escort , not really caring who sees the two of you.

"h-hoon im sorry I didn't-" he leans down to whisper in your ear , making sure nobody else but you can hear him as he speaks

"careful baby , you don't wanna say anything that'll make your punishment worse now do you?" he leans down to bite your ear lobe , a shiver running down your spine as he does so. you look down , your panties beginning to feel damp between your legs at the threat he makes hanging over your head.

the two of you get into the backseat of the car , and during the car ride home he's completely silent, it scares you. you're scared for what's about to happen as soon as you enter through the doors of your home.

you know sunghoon is ruthless in bed... especially when he's jealous because how dare someone try and take what's his.

he loves it when you're a brat because then he has the ability to use you in any way he pleases. you wanna act like a toy? he'll treat you like one.

the house is cold and dark when you enter it. you set your purse down on the couch and begin to walk into the house before you're stopped by a pair of hands that has you weak at the knees.

sunghoon tsk's before circling around you , taking in your appearance. your eyes follow his figure as he moves around you like a god damn vulture stalking its next target. your heart rate increases as his fingertips barely graze your thigh , the same one that the man had put his hands on.

he rakes his eyes up and down your trembling figure before looking back up at you through his eyebrows as his head is tilted down. he tongues his cheek before speaking.

"you have no fucking idea what im going to do to you, huh doll?" you shyly look up at him , shifting uncomfortably under his gaze.

"answer me." his demand is short , his words cutting through you swiftly.

"n-no.." you answer , making sunghoon softly smile at you

"no what" he responds , making your heart beat faster in your ribs .

"no sir" you answer under your breath, looking up at him through your eye lashes. sunghoon makes his way over to the couch , sitting down on it. he spreads his legs apart , pressing his forearms down onto his knees in a manspread.

"strip." is all he says , his words making you feel even wetter. you start with your necklace , taking it off and placing it down on the coffee table with a clank. next is your shoes and socks, which you kick off and over towards the coffee table to be forgotten. your little black dress follows, which you slip over your head and drop it down onto the floor next to you.

finally , you're left in just a flimsy pair of underwear and bra , covering you from your lovers eyes.

you feel pathetic under his gaze, goosebumps arising on your skin as he watches you intently. you gulp down saliva before shakingly take off your bra , your breasts bouncing free.

then you shimmy out of your underwear , kicking them to the side as you bare yourself completely to sunghoon. his face is completely expressionless, which makes you shift nervously in place.

you feel helpless in the palm of his hand , and he hasnt even touched you. like meek prey being observed by its hunter just before he pounces on you.

"you dont deserve my cock. you should be thankful I fuck such a worthless slut like you" you shift away from his mean words , but the feeling of your wetness slowly drip down your legs makes sunghoon hiss.

"god , you're so fucking filthy. look at the mess you're making." you feel embarrassment pool in your cheeks , fidgeting with your hands as a whine exits your mouth.

"s-sung-"

"get on your knees" with widening eyes , you bring your cheek between your teeth and chew,

"sunghoon-"

"dont you dare question me, slut. I said get on your knees, or are you too stupid to do just that?" he humiliates you , making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

you listen to him , getting down on your knees a few feet in front of him. he leans back onto the couch , his eyes never leaving your figure.

"now crawl to me" if his last command wasn't bad enough , this one was even worse. you feel yourself grow even hotter as you begin to shift on the ground , crawling over to sunghoon on your knees . you stop right before him , your body placed inbetween his spread legs while your eye level with his clothed dick.

"undress me" he says , so you comply , stripping him of his clothes and letting his hard cock spring free, slapping his abdomen as pearly drops of precum drip out of his tip and down his shaft.

sunghoon then leans down , forcefully grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks. he coos at your pinched eyebrows and teary eyes.

"do you know what happens when you misbehave?" you shake your head in his grasp , desperately wanting to know.

"this." he harshly lets go of your cheek in order to grab a fistful of your hair , pushing your face towards his cock. you instinctually open your mouth as he bullies his way into your face , pressing you down onto his shaft and forcing you to deep throat his length instantly. you choke around him , your hands coming to latch onto his thighs.

you gag as saliva quickly begins to drool out of the sides of your mouth and down your chin. sunghoon throws his head back , pushing your head to bob up and down around his length.

"this is the only thing you're good for. taking my dick like the worthless slave you are." you moan at his words , the tip of his dick hitting beyond the back of your throat. he begins to thrust his hips up into your face, your nose hitting his pelvis bone with every rut into your throat.

your eyes begin to water , the taste of his salty precum clouding your senses as you try to breathe in through your nose. he's ruthless , his cock bruising your throat , making it sting.

you hollow your cheeks , sucking harder in order to make him finish quicker. sunghoons moans pick up volume above you, his hips beginning to thrust more sloppily into you.

your tongue attempts to swirl around his length , but its difficult due to the fast pace your lover has set.

"you're gonna take my cum like the filthy little cock whore you are, isn't that right babydoll?" you attempt to nod your head, looking up at sunghoon as he fucks your face. hot tears spill down your cheeks , stretching passed your saliva coated chin and towards your neck. sunghoon's grip in your hair is unbelievably tight, making your scalp sting and your head hurt.

you swallow around his cock, and with one final thrust up into your face, he holds your head down so your nose presses against his pelvis, cutting off your entire air supply - he cums down your throat, shooting his load into your mouth.

he holds you down until you start squirming, silently begging for air. he groans before yanking your head off of his cock.

your cheeks are full of his seed while he leans down and squeezes your cheeks- resulting in a little bit of his cum spilling out of the sides of your mouth.

"swallow." and so you do, taking all of the cum he gifted you. it stings on the way down, your throat hurts as more tears spill from your eyes.

"god I love it when you cry for me" he says, the dirty words echoing in your mind. before you can say anything, he stands up and grabs your body, flinging you into the air and over his shoulder. you weigh just about nothing to sunghoon as he walks down the halllway and into your shared room, throwing you down onto the bed.

oh you're absolutely in for it- and you can tell just by the look on his face -hes angry. he crawls over your smaller frame, harshly gripping one of your wrists before tugging it up and over your head, towards the bed post where the restraint lays. your eyes widen in realization, instantly trying to get away from the demon above you.

he only uses the restraint when you absolutely fuck up - and tonight is one of those nights where you definitely fucked up.

"no, no please please no-" you struggle, but your wrist ends up restrained despite your protests and fighting. your free hand instantly goes to try and help you out- but sunghoon has the key.

"oh yes. you're the one who put yourself in this position. did you really forget who owns you doll?" he leans down and grips your throat in his hands, forcing you to look at him as his thumb presses down on the spot that determines your air supply , the threat hanging above your head.

"now, you're going to shut up and take whatever I give you like the good little girl you are, yeah?" you nod your head with a whimper, listening to every word your boyfriend says.

"good." he moves his hand up to your face, squeezing your cheeks as you open your mouth. he looks into your teary eyes as he spits directly into your mouth to which you instantly swallow. he coo's at you before letting you go, pushing your body back down onto the bed before quickly restraining your arms and legs to the bed post, stretching you out in order to bare yourself completely helpless.

sunghoon smirks, his fangs on full display.

"you're not going to cum until I give you permission, do you understand?" you nod your head desperately.

sunghoon chuckles as he reaches out to turn the lights off and you can swear the atmosphere shifts drastically, his laugh echoing off the walls of the room. the only thought ringing through your head is how fucked you truly are.

you can hear him shuffle around, but you can't see him at all, the room is completely dark. your eyes frantically search around in the dark, attempting to make out any sort of figure, and just before you gain any confidence- you feel one of your thighs sting after being smacked.

you let out a desperate squeal at the impact, your legs shaking and your cunt dripping. you hear a chuckle come from the dark void you call your room before another harsh smack lands on your other thigh, this time its on the inside of your leg and not the outside.

another squeal is ripped from your throat, and you could almost bet that there was a fat red handprint left on your skin.

you tug at the restraints, feeling completely helpless as another smack lands on the opposite inner thigh. a sob echos through the room and you feel your arousal drip down your ass to pool onto the bed below you.

hes fast, making sure you don't see him in the dark room as another slap lands on your body- only this time its on your puffy clit.

a moan replaces your screams, your hips bucking into the air as your cunt begins to pulsate.

"s-sung please... need you d-daddy please" you beg, but your pleas go straight through his ear and out the other as another harsh slap lands on your clit. this one vibrates throughout your entire body and you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, a thin layer of sweat glistening on your helpless body.

your wish comes true as his cold fingers make contact with your wet folds, slipping through them with ease in order to gather your juices before rubbing your clit harshly.

your body thrashes against the restraints that bound you to the bed. your hips buck into the air, but sunghoons free hand comes down onto your abdomen and pushes your body back down onto the mattress - pinning you down onto the sheets below you.

your high pitched begs and moans fill the chambers of sunghoons mind, fueling his ego further as he begins to tip you over the edge. your pussy flutters around nothing, making sunghoon hiss at the sight.

"d-da-ddy please m-more wan' mo-re" you sob, fat tears running down your warm cheeks. he detaches from your clit before landing another body-shaking slap against it

"you," slap

"are going-" slap

"to take-" slap

"whatever-" slap

"I-" slap

"give you." slap

just before you can object, white hot pleasure rips through you like a sharp knife, your orgasm tipping over and spilling in the most messiest way possible; you're squirting all over the mattress and sunghoons arm, a scream dripping off your lips as you do so.

the wetness soaks the bed below you, sunghoons eyes widening as his anger begins to further deepen. you blink away the heavy, pleasure-filled clouded daze, the realization of what just happened hitting you like a brick.

"did you just-" he cuts himself off, the utter disbelief laced in his tone. you gasp, trying to catch your breath as you speak. you tug at the restraints once more, fear beginning to overrun the pleasure you just experienced

"'m, 'm sorry da-ddy 'm so sorry I-i didn't mean to.." your voice trembles as you speak. sunghoon scoffs in disbelief, pulling his hands away from your puffy pussy and stepping away from the bed to observe you.

"you didn't mean to? you didn't fucking mean to?" he scoffs again "you deliberately disobeyed me-" you hear one of the restraints unhooking, but you can't get your god damn body to move.

"and you came without my permission-" another restraint unlocking.

"you know what's gonna happen now, sweetheart?" another one, followed by silence as you gently tug at the last restraint- your breathing heavy and your fear prominent at the tears you cry.

you dont even feel sunghoons hands as he unlocks the last restraint, but your hand drops onto the bed right after.

you feel him behind you, but you're too scared to move. his breath fans your ear and shoulder as he whispers into it

"im going to grab your stupid fucking throat and zone you out while I use you like the pathetic little toy you are"

he moves to your other ear, his hands coming up to your shoulders to gently caress them

"and the only way you'll be able to know what's happening is when you feel my cum is dripping out of your tight little pussy when im finished with you." he pushes you down onto the bed, your front pressing down onto the mattress below you as sunghoon crawls over your body. he uses one of his hands to spread your legs apart, the other grips his cock and pushes it up against your sopping hole.

he moves his tip up and down your slit, gathering your juices before bullying his way inside your walls, thrusting up inside you.

your back arches , your ass in the air. sunghoon then moves his one hands to grab your wrists, pinning them up above your head while your face presses into the mattress below you.

his hips begin to snap against the plush of your ass, setting a ruthless pace while he fucks you deep into the sheets below you. muffled sobs vibrate the bed, traveling into sunghoons ears.

a pool of saliva soaks the cum-stained bedding, his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. you thrash underneath him, your pussy fluttering around his dick as you moan incoherent sentences to your lover.

"fuck- so god damn tight.. so perfect.. filthy fucking slut just desperate for cock is what you are, huh baby?" his free hand that's not holding your wrists comes down to slap your ass, making you jolt in his hold. you whimper at the sting and his words, squeezing his dick as he speaks.

"just a pretty little fucktoy made just for me" he slaps your ass again, his dick twitching inside you as his orgasm approaches, fast.

"here for my pleasure and my pleasure only, got that you useless fucking whore?" you turn your head to the side, your half-lidded , fucked out eyes meeting sunghoons behind you.

"y-yes sir, 'm you're useless f-fuck toy" he pouts at your words, shifting his position so his chest presses flush against your back, pinning you to the mattress with is body. his hand lets go of your wrists, but you dont move as he wraps his arm around your throat, putting you into a head lock from behind with one of his arms. he makes sure he doesn't squeeze his arm so his muscles dont suffocate you. your eyes widen and you look back at him, genuine fear laced in the pupils of your eyes.

"green or red?" he asks, his mean demeanor shifting slightly, your chest heaving underneath him. you know he would never intentionally hurt you or push you to say the safe word- this was just new to the two of you... and 'new' isn't necessarily bad.. just a little scary

but you operate on fear.

so when your cunt squeezes sunghoons length, he already has his answer, but asks again anyways

"answer me."

"green" you answer immediately

sunghoon chuckles above you, his thrusts picking up the previous pace as his tip licks the sweet spot deep inside your pussy.

his arm squeezes around your throat barely, but still enough to threaten you.

as he does so, your pussy flutters around his cock, a loud moan erupting from the back of your throat. you push your ass up to meet his every thrust, his hips snapping a ruthless rhythm. skin slapping and disgusting moans fill the room, sunghoon groaning from above you. his free hand snakes down under your body, his cold fingers finding your clit in order to rub quick circles on your bundle of muscle.

you instantly fall apart, drool escaping your mouth to drip down your chin, your whines falling into desperate mewls.

"c-cum" is all you can manage to say, and sunghoon instantly picks up the hint. his pace not letting up as he speaks

"cum for me baby, make a mess all over daddy's cock, yeah?" and so you do, your pussy squeezing him as you cream all over his length, your arousal dripping down to coat his balls as a white ring of your guys' mixed fluids form on the base of his dick.

you cum, hard.

but its not enough, sunghoons thrusts aren't enough.

so he pulls his dick out of you in the middle of your orgasm and flips you onto your back, harshly gripping your ankles as he drags your body underneath his.

sunghoon grips your legs, lifting them in order to fold you completely in half as your knees settle right next to either side of your face.

and he pushes his dick inside you once more as you finish around him.

"o-oh my god" you squeal at the deeper angle, struggling in his grasp.

"'s, 's too much s-slow daddy p-please" you beg, but he doesn't listen.

"you can take it pretty, you have before, just- just let daddy use your body a little longer" he throws his head back, your breasts bouncing with every thrust inside your fucked out pussy.

your head hits the pillows behind you, your sight beginning to blur as you're left seeing stars. your mind begins to float away from your body. the assault on your fuck hole leaves you completely stupid and awe-struck.

"p-please... 's too.,, much.." you whisper, the last coherent sentence slipping from your lips.

"shhh baby, it'll be over soon, daddy promises sweet girl" he promises you. his orgasm is approaching fast, his balls tightening and his dick twitches.

"such a perfect little fuck doll, love it when daddy abuses your tiny little cunt, don't you little one" tears slip from your eyes as you nod your head.

"oh fuck-" he throws his head back at the sight of your tears, his balls contracting as he shoots his cum deep in your tummy with one final thrust. you orgasm for the third time that night without knowing, your pussy's walls clenching down on him as you squirt once more.

sunghoon thought he was done... he really did.

until he saw you squirting all around his length as more tears shoot from your eyes.

he instantly grabs your throat, sitting up as his still-hard cock fucks inside you.

the terrified scream that exits your throat only feeds into sunghoons actions, his hand squeezes around your throat- cutting off all air supply.

"gonna fuck my cum into you, breed this pathetic pussy. make you a god damn cum slut, you'd like that huh precious?" you nod your head, arching your back in order to curl into your boyfriends body.

"y-yes, ta-ke daddy's cum, please" your eyes squeeze shut, your mouth parting into the perfect 'o' shape. sunghoon grunts , sweat dripping down his hair line , falling right onto his toned body and the sight drives you absolutely insane.

"filthy. god damn. slut." he says between thrusts as he fucks his cum deep inside you.

you're definitely going to have to take a plan b despite being on birth control.

"take it baby, make a mess all over me" the two of you finish in unison, your guys' mixed bodily fluids soak the mattress and wetten each others skin.

sunghoon leans down and unwraps his hand from your throat, snaking behind the small of your back in order to pick you up slightly and press your guys' bodies together.

you whimper at the warm feeling inside your lower abdomen that spreads throughout your body as sunghoon holds you close to him, coaxing each other down from your highs.

after a moment, sunghoon collapses right next to, his chest heaving up and down in order to catch his breath. he turns to look at you, his fingers caressing the skin of your cheek before tucking a stray, sweaty piece of hair behind your ear.

"did I hurt you, my love?" his eyes search for any signs of injury, you shake your head no and move next to his body, wrapping your arms around your frame to bring him into a hug.

"no" you whisper, sighing against his chest after kissing his hot skin as the two of you lay and bask in each others presence.

after a couple minutes, he excuses himself out of the room, only to come back with an ice pack, a glass of water, advil, and a towel.

he proceeds to clean you up, wiping up the cum from your legs and pussy.

"you did such a good job for me sweetheart, such a good girl" you blush at his words while he leans down to kiss the red marks on your thighs, pressing the icepack up against your skin right after.

he then hands you the glass of water and Advil, forcing you to take it so a headache doesn't form. he leans down and presses a chaste kiss against your forehead.

"I love you so much my darling" he kisses your nose

"you're so beyond perfect" he kisses your lips gently, his hands massaging the sides of your thighs to soothe any pain you might have.

"I wasn't too rough, was I?" you shake your head no, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him into you.

"it was a lot... but perfect... I love you hoonie.." you whisper, kissing his cheek.

"you were amazing for me, my perfect little angel. you could do no wrong sweetheart" you nod, but sunghoon grabs your cheeks and forces you to look him in the eyes.

"no baby, you are actually perfect. you did such a good job for me tonight, i'm so proud of you.. you're so much more than just a toy, you understand? you're my perfect girl" you giggle and kiss his lips softly

"yes, I understand"

"good.. because you're everything to me my love. I would do everything in my power to protect and love you. my perfect baby" he kisses every inch of your face, making you giggle in the process.

"my perfect, beautiful, smart, sexy, amazing fiance" he puts emphasis on the word 'fiancee', although the two of you aren't even engaged, that word makes your stomach turn in excitement. you giggle at his words, but squeal as soon as he picks you up in the air bridal style.

"sunghoon! where on earth are you taking me" you laugh, making him smile at you. you swear your heart bursts in your chest just by the way he smiles.

"im gonna run you a bubble bath and change the sheets, my princess only deserves the best" you smack his chest, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"I love you so much, hoonie" you say

"I love you so much more"

tag list ; .⋆。⊹

౨ৎ @honeybelleee

#⊹ ⋆꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹#phoebe's blog ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗#girlblog ♡#♡#enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen park sunghoon smut #enhypen sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunghoon x reader smut #park sunghoon x reader smut #sunghoon x reader smut

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jrenaegaming · 1 month ago

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452 Pendula View | 40x30 | Move-In Ready Residential

| I know I've been super MIA the past couple of months. I needed some time to clean my mods folder and work on upgrading my PC, but I'm back! Here is a upper-middle class suburban home suitable for a large family. It also features an above ground pool. |

Gallery ID: jrenaeee

DOWNLOAD[PATREON]

Public 05.14.2025

#sims4 #blacksimmer #ts4 #ccfinds #sims4cc #sims 4 builds #alpha cc

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iydiamartinx · 25 days ago

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THE ART OF RESTRAINT

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

divider by: @cafekitsune & @iydiamartinx word count: 1.9k synopsis: They’ve always known how to win. But when a charity photoshoot puts Gotham’s most ruthless CEOs in each other’s arms, in nothing but their underwear—they’re forced to face the one game neither is willing to lose. a/n: I thought I loved the Dick and Jason version but I've changed my mind. Bruce is just something else.

Gotham elite and the tabloids loved a spectacle. And this year’s calendar fundraiser had done the impossible—put you on a bed, half-dressed, with him.

Bruce Wayne.

Heir. CEO. Gotham’s golden obsession. A man carved from legacy and wealth, currently in the prime of a life most people would kill to live. Late thirties, sharp as the suits he wore, and infuriatingly at ease in his own skin. That steel-cut jawline had graced Forbes, GQ, and headlines you tried very hard to ignore.

You’d fought him in boardrooms. Matched wits at galas. Outbid him in billion-dollar deals where charm was just a sharper blade. The two of you were constantly battling for ground. And now, here you were.

Not behind a podium. Not across a negotiation table.

But a bed.

Both of you had been voted Gotham’s hottest CEOs in a public poll that your PR team had insisted was a win. Visibility, they called it. Brand power. A good cause. You weren’t even sure how your assistant thought you’d agree to something like this—but they had said yes on your behalf, and now you were locked in.

There was no room for protest. No way to claw your dignity back without headlines.

So you wore the robe. Sat at the vanity. Pretended like you weren’t already counting the ways you’d make that assistant’s life hell.

And then he stepped out from behind the modesty screen.

Wearing black boxer-briefs and nothing else, Bruce Wayne crossed the set like a man walking into his own penthouse. Calm. Controlled. Completely unbothered in his own skin. You watched him in the mirror without turning your head, studying the way his body moved—fluid and composed, like none of this fazed him.

Of course it didn’t.

He thrived on this kind of thing. Power plays. Publicity. Knowing eyes were on him. There was a reason he was Gotham’s most eligible bachelor.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” he said, voice low and smooth as he came to stand behind you. His reflection met yours in the glass—eyes dark, unreadable. “You’ve never struck me as the modest type.”

You tilted your head slightly, arching a brow without breaking eye contact.

“And you’ve never struck me as the type to sell yourself in stretch cotton,” you replied coolly.

His mouth curved. “Charity humbles us all.”

“Funny,” you said, reaching for a brush you didn’t need, just to keep your hands busy. “I thought I did that.”

He didn’t laugh.

But the smile deepened.

“You try.”

That was the thing with Bruce. Behind the easy grins and playboy attitude, he was sharper than most people recognized and it was because of that you were always on your guard. That man’s charm could be even deadlier than his money and the last thing you needed was to fall victim to it.

The photographer clapped, bright and overly eager. “Alright! Let’s get started.”

Bruce moved first, taking his place on the bed.

“Y/N, on Bruce’s lap. Bruce—hands wherever feels natural. Make it look like you’ve already crossed the line.”

You glanced toward the man now lounging at the edge of the bed, legs spread in unapologetic confidence. One arm draped lazily behind him, the other resting beside his thigh. You gritted your teeth at how he annoyingly seemed to own the space without trying.

You stood, letting the robe slip from your shoulders.

The silk whispered down your frame and pooled at your feet, and the air shifted. It felt as if it suddenly got thicker with tension.

Your black lingerie was lined with lace and tailored to flatter, pushing up your breasts, flattering the curves of your body, it had been handpicked by your stylist to make headlines. The lingerie was made for you.

And the way Bruce looked at you—like something feral had briefly flashed behind his composed mask—told you he knew it too.

He recovered quickly, of course. He always did. His eyes met yours again, calm and calculating, as if he hadn’t just raked over you with the quiet hunger of a man starved

You stepped toward the bed, the sound of your heels echoing over polished concrete.

Bruce Wayne looked like sin in monochrome—black boxer briefs, bronzed skin, hair just a little too tousled to be accidental. Smug, unbothered, and very aware of the weight of your gaze.

You exhaled slowly and climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders. His palms slid to your waist instantly—firm, practiced, far too at ease.

“Comfortable?” he asked, voice low and edged with amusement.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you murmured, even as your fingers curled at the nape of his neck.

“Closer,” the photographer called. “Less posed, more like—God, I don’t know—like someone’s about to make a very bad decision.”

Your body shifted automatically. You leaned in until your nose nearly brushed his cheekbone, your lips hovering beside his jaw.

“Better?” you said, saccharine-sweet for the camera.

His hands tightened just slightly, fingers pressing into the curve of your waist—possessive, anchoring. “Getting there,” He grunted.

You pulled back slightly to make eye contact.

Your fingers slid from the nape of his neck to the edge of his jaw, thumb brushing lightly across the stubble there. His skin was warm, the tension beneath it taut like coiled wire—contained, but ready to snap.

“Good,” the photographer called again, sounding far too pleased. “Now move a little. Let’s get a story going. Y/N, take the lead. Bruce—let her.”

Sliding your hands down the front of his chest, you let your fingers trace the ridges of muscle beneath smooth skin. His breathing didn’t change, but you could feel the heat rising between you. He didn’t move—didn’t so much as twitch.

But you felt the breath he held.

You pressed firmly against his chest until his body gave under your hands.

Bruce let himself fall back against the bed, but the look in his eyes as he did was anything but yielding.

You followed him down, never breaking eye contact, your knees still bracketing his hips. One hand braced beside his head, the other resting against his stomach. Your hair slid over your shoulder, framing the sharp curve of your jaw and the wicked curl of your smile

Your lips grazed the slope of his collarbone.

You could feel the tension in his abdomen when your fingers brushed against it. Felt the control—the restraint—bleeding off of him in waves.

The photographer was muttering something about intensity and chemistry and God bless Gotham as his camera went off like crazy, but you barely heard him, your attention was fully on the silent challenge that was between you and bruce.

You trailed lower, just slightly, letting your mouth skim over the edge of his sternum. Then down. Slower. Your breath hot against his skin as you moved further, nearing the waistband of his briefs.

You smiled, lips ghosting just above the line of fabric.

Bruce’s hands snapped to your waist—strong, unrelenting—and the world tilted.

He turned you beneath him in a single, brutal sweep of motion. The mattress caught your back with a soft thud, air leaving your lungs in a sharp exhale as your spine met the sheets.

You barely had time to gasp before he was above you—on you—pressing you down with nothing but presence.

His thigh slid between yours. His weight settled in close.

One palm braced near your ribs.

The other wrapped, firm and steady, around your throat.

His thumb traced the underside of your jaw, tipping your face up toward his. His voice a rasp only you could hear. “Are you done pretending you’re in control?”

You stared up at him, pulse hammering under his touch, refusing to look away. You hated how easily your breath hitched. How good he looked above you like this. Like power incarnate, dressed in nothing but black and confidence.

Your nails grazed his ribs in response. Just enough to remind him you were going to fold to him that easily.

“No,” you whispered, lips parted, breath trembling just enough to betray the pulse hammering in your throat. “But it’s cute that you think you are.”

His smile was slow. Measured. Dangerous. The kind of smile that made men break and corporations crumble.

“You’re cute when you lie,” He murmured.

His grip shifted, tightening warningly. A sharp breath escaped your lips before you could stop it, as he suddenly moved. Leaning back, he dragged you up with him by the throat like it was effortless. His hand adjusted, tilting your chin higher, forcing your eyes back to his.

Click.

Flash.

The sound of the shutter cracked through the charged silence like distant thunder.

“Beautiful,” the photographer called from somewhere outside the haze. “Hold that. Bruce, shift your hand—yes, just like that. Now lean in, like you’re about to kiss her.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Bruce leaned down slowly, deliberately, until his lips hovered a breath above yours—so close that his exhale ghosted across your skin, warm and maddening. Every molecule of air between you felt electric, buzzing with the threat of something unraveling.

But he didn’t touch you.

Didn’t close the gap.

You weren’t pretending anymore. Neither of you were. The shoot, the cameras, the lights—they’d all faded into background noise.

This wasn’t about a calendar.

This wasn’t about charity.

This was about control.

And God help you… you were losing.

Your body had gone still beneath him, pliant under the weight of his dominance. You could feel the fine tremor of anticipation humming through your limbs, the heat pooling between your legs as your breath caught and your lips parted—soft, instinctive, traitorous.

Bruce’s voice was barely audible—more breath than sound. “Say it.”

You blinked up at him, pupils blown wide. “Say what?”

“That you want me.”

Your jaw clenched. A flicker of something sharp passed through your eyes—anger, maybe. Or pride, stubborn to the last breath.

He waited. Poised. Patient. A man who always got what he wanted—and knew it.

“I want…” you began, slow and deliberate, your fingers trailing down his side. The heat of him scorched under your touch. You let your hand drag over every inch like a threat, like a dare. “…you off me.”

He smiled. That same maddening, ruinous smile.

But he didn’t move.

“Liar.”

Your breath caught at the back of your throat, just a hitch—but it was enough. He felt it. You knew he did.

Click.

Flash.

The camera shutter broke the silence, loud and sudden.

“Perfect!” the photographer shouted. “Don’t move. That’s the cover.”

But neither of you were listening.

Not until the sharp, sudden clapping of the photographer cut clean through the tension like a knife through silk.

“That was wonderful, you two,” he said, breathless, awestruck. “Let’s call it a wrap.”

The spell broke.

Bruce pulled away without a word, and the absence of his weight was immediate. Jarring. The air felt colder without him, your skin a little too bare where he’d touched you—like your body hadn’t gotten the message that it was over.

He stood and adjusted the robe slung over the back of a nearby chair, but didn’t bother putting it on. Just draped it over his arm, muscles shifting beneath golden skin. He looked as if the entire encounter hadn’t phased him at all.

You sat up slowly, smoothing your hair back with a practiced hand, doing your best to pretend your heart wasn’t still pounding in your chest.

“I’ll see you at the charity gala,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just manhandled you for the cameras and whispered sin into your skin.

You didn’t answer. Just watched him walk away.

Just before disappearing around the corner, he turned his head and looked at you. That same impossible expression on his face. Not smug. Not soft. Something in between. Something far more dangerous.

Your eyes narrowed.

This wasn’t over. Game on.

Next Chapter →

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #batman #batman x reader #batman x you #batman x y/n #Bruce is a model #Bruce needs to be on too hot to handle cause goddamn #dc comics #batman comics

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hairmetal666 · 8 months ago

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Steve has done interviews before. Like, a lot of interviews. YouTube, podcasts, print, TV stuff. Not as a brag, or anything, just. He's been an influencer for a long time, for better or worse, and it's part of the deal.

Usually, he's comfortable in front of the camera. Usually, he's poised and well-spoken. But today, this time, sweat pools under his arms and beads along his hairline, the lights beating down on him in a harsh glare.

"Steve Harrington," Murray Bauman crosses his legs, smiles big for the cameras. "It's been a while."

He smiles too, tries to seem like he's not about to have a panic attack. "I've been a little busy."

Murray laughs and it's then that Steve understands how screwed he really is. Murray's show, it's all glitz and glamour on the surface; mixed drinks and hijinks until the celebrity guests lose their inhibitions, admitting things they probably wanted to keep secret.

It's just that, before, Steve didn't have any salacious rumors to worry about, and now--

"You've had a rough year, Steve, yeah?"

"Not my best, for sure." He leans back, tries to seem calm, unbothered.

"I was sorry to hear about your divorce. I think that announcement really took a lot of people by surprise."

His hands clench, but he manages not to shift or bounce his leg. "Thanks for, uh. Yeah. We were also sorry it didn't work out."

Murray nods, face full of sympathy. "You and Nancy, you'd been together since high school? That's almost--what? 15 years?"

"It's--" he clears his throat. "About that long." Steve takes a sip of the drink next to him, an apple martini that's both too sweet and too strong.

"Am I right to assume that you didn't see it coming?"

And isn't that a question? Sure, now in hindsight, he can see the fractures that lead to the end, but six months ago did he--it's all so--what if all along--

"All marriages have rough patches," is what he says. "We just couldn't come out of ours as a couple."

"Do you know what I've found really remarkable about this phase of your life? The content and tone of your videos in the midst of the maelstrom of rumors and gossip didn't change at all. 'Your kids' as you call them, are still as bright and vibrant as ever. You're laughing, dancing, cooking, having a great time."

"I needed that--that normalcy you know? And the kids, they're such an important part of my life, having them around helped."

"Including Nancy's brother, Mike?"

Steve laughs and it's not fake. "Totally including Mike. My relationship with Nancy has nothing to do with my relationship with him."

"He's kind of an antagonist--would you say?--in your videos, though."

"We have conflict sometimes, but it's never serious. We know how to play it up for laughs."

"So, nothing's changed between you?"

"Not at all."

"The cheating rumors." Murray's smile is soft, but all the air still leaves the room.

"What about them?" It's more combative than he means, but--

"Did Nancy cheat on you with Jonathan Byers?"

He swallows and it hurts. She did cheat, is the thing. It's not public information, still only speculation, but--

"You can't believe everything you read, Murray."

"So, she didn't cheat?" There's a glow to Murray's eyes that tells Steve he already knows the answer.

"Like, I said before, marriages are hard. We spent a lot of time apart because of our jobs. It took a toll."

"And she was traveling with Jonathan, yes? He's been her photographer for the past decade, from what I understand."

"They were co-workers, but we're all close. And those rumors didn't help our relationship, for sure. It's--not easy to hear that a bunch of people think your wife and close friend may be having an affair, that people 'ship' them. Even when it's not true, it creates--"

"Tension? Distrust?"

"Both, probably." He takes another drink as he nods. "After a while you do start to wonder if there's truth to it, and you're too ignorant or too--too trusting to see it."

"And it eroded the relationship."

"It certainly didn't help." He takes another drink.

"And how about your relationship with Jonathan's brother, Will. Has that been impacted?"

"Of course not. Never. Whatever happens between Nancy, Jonathan, and I, it has nothing to do with the kids. They know that.

"You talked about it."

"Yes. Extensively."

"I know there's often speculation on the relationship you have with them; if you're really close or it's all for the cameras."

"Murray." He leans forward. "We've talked about this before. I met Dustin through Mike, and the whole group followed. I've known them all since they were 8 years old. They're--I mean, not to be cliche, but they're my family." He sips the last bit of martini.

"And where does Eddie Munson fit into that family?"

The question shouldn't be a surprise, but he almost does a spit take, has to fight to keep it together.

"Eddie?"

"Yes." Murray's smile is chilling. "Your close friend Eddie Munson. Musician. Plays Dungeons and Dragons on YouTube. You made out with him in a music video. Ringing any bells?"

"I'm familiar with Eddie," his grin is rigid. "I don't know what that has to do with my marriage ending."

"Well, the rumors weren't all about Nancy, were they?"

"Eddie and I have--we became mutuals online years and years ago. I used one of his songs in a video and the kids are obsessed with his dnd stuff, so. We've become close."

"Friends?"

"Isn't that implied?"

"After that music video, I don't think so."

Steve rolls his eyes, lets the irritation show for the first time. "He asked me to be in his video. There's nothing scandalous about it."

"What's your relationship with Eddie right now?"

"Like I said, friends."

"Do you want it to be more than that?"

"Eddie's really important to me."

"Is that all?"

"Not really sure what you want me to say here, Murray."

"You were married to a woman for years, but now there are questions about your sexuality."

He grits his teeth. "My sexuality isn't anyone's business aside my own. People can say shit on Twitter all they want, that doesn't mean they know me. But--the end of my marriage--it definitely gave me the space for self-discovery, I guess? In a way I hadn't had before."

"And is Eddie a part of that self-discovery?"

"Yeah, as one of my closest friends, he is."

"Do you have feelings for him?"

"That's--that's not--I'm going through a divorce. My focus isn't on starting another relationship right now."

"You, famously, tattooed your initials on the inside of his thigh during an Instagram live. That's pretty intimate."

"We were just having a little fun."

"Huh. That seems like more than 'a little fun' to me. So, how's Eddie doing with the increased attention?"

It takes Steve a second to track the change of subject, mind still stuck on the tattoo, on how the ink had looked on Eddie's pale skin.

"It's hard." Steve eventually answers. "Of course he enjoys bringing his music and dnd to a wider audience, but the focus on his personal life is--it's a lot."

"Well, he should have thought about before letting you tattoo him for your 850,000 followers. Does he want a relationship with you?"

His throat is dry, burning, he wishes he had more martini. He wishes he'd never taken a sip. "You'd have to ask him. I'm just taking it day by day, you know? That's what I need right now."

"We're getting to the end of our time, but you know I have to ask. Your best friend, Robin Buckley, she very famously unfollowed both Nancy and Jonathan on all social media when news broke about your divorce. Can you tell us why she unfollowed them?"

"I have no control over Robin's accounts. I didn't even know she followed Jonathan ever, and she and Nancy have a relationship outside of me, you know? I can't say what happened between them."

"She's been in your videos with Eddie. She like him?"

"Very much. It's kind of annoying actually. They keep ganging up on me."

"Much to everyone's delight, I'm sure. So, what can we expect from the newly single Steve Harrington?"

"There are a couple things in the works, but only time will tell."

---

He walks through his front door an hour later, and Eddie's sitting on the couch, playing a soft melody on an acoustic guitar. He stops when he sees Steve, setting the guitar aside, and standing.

"How'd it go, baby?" He asks. His soft smile is so beautiful, Steve gets a lump in his throat.

"As expected." He crosses the space between them, lets Eddie pull him close.

"He ask about us?" Eddie's breath tickles his ear.

"Of course."

"And you--"

"I want--it should be just for us. We should be able to announce when we're ready. Not when Murray-fucking-Bauman asks."

Eddie kisses him, then, sweet and slow, making him lose his breath.

"Whenever you're ready, I'll be right by your side."

"You sure? All my mess--"

"Is mine too. Afraid you're stuck with me for the long haul, Steve Harrington."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #fluff #angst #secret relationship #influencer steve harrington #musician eddie munson #referenced cheating but it's jonathan and nancy #celebrity interview #this is another ficlet inspired by something that happened on real housewives #iykyk #yes murray is andy cohen #and yes this is a stand-in for wwhl #what if steve is a momtok influencer though #this might be part of a longer thing soon!

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les4elliewilliams · 9 months ago

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❝SHE’S A MANEATER!❞ – 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

LOSER!ELLIE ﾒ MEAN!READER

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

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

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

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

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

#.ᐟ ⌞CHAPTERS⌝ ↯

˗ˏˋ 𝐨𝐧�� ⋆ 𝕥𝕨𝕠 ⋆ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ˎˊ˗

palestine masterpost ⋆ read this ⋆ daily clicks

8th of August.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was so full of you, literally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You smiling at her was unnecessary.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

26th of August.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whaa—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rinse and repeat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, haha”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

28th of August.

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

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

She needed to know everything about you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have you ever been touched like this before?

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

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

“I love you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s gonna be a girls’ night.”

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

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

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

“What are you on about?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, date. What the fuck are we?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Back to the origin.

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fangatic · 4 months ago

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we need to talk about The Silence and The Song

[PLEASE READ] edit to add: i realise that this post has been reblogged far and wide and that there is not a lot i can do about it now, but this is me trying anyway.

posting examples from the fic about my issues with its repetitive structure was careless of me, and i apologise to those of you who read it and became insecure about your own writing style. as someone who has worked with ai in academic settings, it's incredibly difficult for me to explain to you how the tone and structure of ai-generated fiction works and how, after reading enough of it, you can simply just tell. i do also realise that this is an incredibly weak argument, which is why i didn't include it when i originally wrote this post.

all that to say: there is an enormous difference between "beginner's writing" and ai writing. being repetitive as a new writer (or a seasoned one who just likes using repetition) is so normal. as is flowery/purple language. i've read hundreds of books and fics and the difference between these traits in ai-text and actual works is starkly clear. please don't feel anxious over the examples i've used in this post.

again, i apologise for any distress i have caused.

as per my last post, i have received a lot of encouragement to go public with this, and the more disappointed people i have in my dms, the angrier i get. so i will.

the silence and the song is an ancient arlathan au DA fic on ao3 by luxannaslut, and it is partly, if not entirely, written by an ai. i have no wish to be involved in any kind of fandom drama or witch hunting or bullying, but as a writer myself there are few things that piss me off more than watching people steal the work of others because they can't be fucked to write. it's disrespectful to your fellow writers, it's disrespectful to your readers, and it's disrespectful to the authors of the works the ai is stealing from.

ai is a plague that has no business being in creative spaces and you must do better.

the writing pattern

there was something very odd and monotone about the sentence structure of tsats that i couldn't quite place, so i fed chatgpt a prompt along the lines of "two people in a fantasy novel hate each other, but they secretly desire one another, and they kiss", and the screenshots above are the results. the third one is an excerpt from chapter 40 of tsats. the writing pattern is identical and it doesn't seem like the "writer" has even bothered to pretend they wrote it. if you're going to use ai, at least be sneaky about it. you know, paraphrase a little.

nonsense descriptions

"her nimble fingers worked with quiet precision" (ct. 1), "his grip firm but tender" (ct. 33), "her gown pooling around her like embers" (ct. 1).

fingers don't make sound, so what does quiet precision mean? as opposed to what? her joints cracking with every movement? how is a grip firm but tender? what does that mean? since when do embers pool?

the entire fic is littered with these adjectives that contradict each other or just straight up do not make sense, because all an ai does is generate descriptive language with no understanding of what the words it's spitting out actually mean. i could spend hours picking out examples from the seven billion pages worth of text, but i quite frankly have better things to do and would simply challenge you to try getting through a chapter or two without noticing the pattern.

repetition at structure-level

all the scenes in this fic are described in pretty much the same way. they open with purple prose vomit of the surroundings; solas is standing somewhere looking "unreadable as ever"; ellana's fiery golden molten fire copper ember ginger red hair is flowing this and that way; there's some dialogue with whoever is present and it leaves ellana feeling different variations of "something she couldn't name". this is, once again, a blatantly obvious sign of ai. below is the result of me feeding chatgpt the line "write me a scene from a fantasy novel where a woman with red hair is sitting on the ground in a magical garden at night", and side by side with that is the opening scene of the fic. make your own judgement.

repetition at word-level

this one speaks for itself. we fucking get it. her dress is orange, her hair is red, mythal's presence is heavy in the room, solas looks unreadable, compassion is sitting on her head like a crown, solas' ears are betraying him and ellana's move with every thought she thinks. we get it. the issue here is that an ai remembers the info you feed it, but not necessarily the info it shits out. if it's being told to write scene after scene of an elven woman with a gown that looks like fire doing xyz, it's going to do so with no regard for how many times the reader has already been informed of these details.

lastly: the breakneck speed

359,6k words in four weeks by a person who allegedly is employed and married and hasn't pre-written anything? no. any writer will tell you that this simply isn't possible. it absolutely infuriates me to see how much praise this "writer" gets for posting up to three full chapters in a day without anyone calling bullshit. i am pulling out my hair, you guys.

why i'm not going to live and let live this one

perhaps i would be less angry if the fic was some silly bullshit court intrigue Y/A stuff, but this is a text that handles very heavy and triggering topics such as SA, coercion, domestic abuse, and other things of the same vein. to sit back and put your feet up while having a robot write these extremely sensitive and very real human experiences with words it has stolen from texts written by actual persons is fucking heinous. the "writer" should be deeply ashamed of themselves and i'm sick and tired of watching people eat up their bs.

and on that note: the amount of people in my dm's telling me that they feel stupid and naive for not clocking this has infuriated me more than anything else. you're not foolish for this. being fed ai-generated bullshit is not what is supposed to happen on any creative platform and much less a fandom-centred one, so of course no one approaches a fic through that lens. fandom and fic writing is supposed to be about passion and the only person in this situation who needs to do better and change their behaviour is luxannaslut. polluting our creative spaces, wasting the time of your readers, and minimising the effort of actual writers who are working hard to provide content for us all to share and enjoy is vile and so, so lazy. i beg of you: do better.

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flseur · 1 year ago

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꒰ 𐙚 it's so lonely in my mansion — jjk men ꒱

⟡ synopsis : you've always gotten whatever you've wanted, and it doesn't stop with the men you're interested in.

⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, richgirl!reader, pool boy!gojo, private chef!suguru, ceo!nanami, age gap ( reader is in her early 20s, characters are in their mid 20s to early 30s ), fingering, missionary, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, doggy

౨ৎ note : first multi-chara fic in a bit ! it's a bit shorter than what i usually write i think bc i needed to do a bio and cogsci lectures right after but please enjoy ! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

୨୧ SATORU GOJO

❥₊ ⊹ "o-oh fuck!" you moan out, your little frilly pink bathing suit was thrown somewhere haphazardly and your breasts press against the strong plains of satoru's bare chest.

you were staying at your parent's summer house in the hamptons, it's upkeep being done completely by the hired staff. but one member of them would always catch your attention.

snowy white hair with matching long lashes, bright cerulean eyes, and a body that's hard to take your mind off of.

satoru had recently been hired to take care your olympic-sized pool, and you certainly were not complaining at the free (not really free) show that came with him cleaning it.

every time you knew he was coming over to do some work, you'd be out sunbathing, doing pilates, or "homework" outside. and every time you'd ask him for help with something.

your sweet voice would call him over, pouty lips and big eyes stare up at him and ask him, ever so innocently, "satoruuu... can you help me with this?"

which led to where you were right now. after about 2 weeks of asking him for his help, you finally asked him if he could, "pretty please put sunscreen on my back?"

you were flipped over on your stomach, laying on a lounge chair with your skimpy pink bikini bottoms doing absolutely nothing to cover your ass and you swore you could hear him gulp loudly.

his large hands massaged the lotion into your back, getting lower and lower until he stopped right where the string of your bottoms were.

confused, you whip your head around to see why he stopped before turning back over to face him.

"fuck..." you heard him sigh under his breath before hastily pressing his lips onto yours. "you're such a fucking tease."

satoru wasted no time ripping your swimsuit off, one hand coming up to pinch one of your nipples while the other crept towards your aching heat.

his lithe fingers brush against your folds before his thumb finally presses on your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

satoru continues his ministrations on your pussy until he feels your hand wrap around his wrist, making him stop his movements. "is something wrong?" he asks, concern laced throughout his voice.

"no..." you mumble. "i just want you to fuck me now."

satoru lolls his head backwards and groans, "fuck, baby... you don't know what you do to me. don't know how long i've wanted to fuck you and this pretty pussy."

"then do it." you chide, getting impatient.

hurriedly, satoru removes his black board shorts, his cock springs free. the tip is flushed pink with precum leaking from it.

satoru's hands grab at the fat of your hips, pulling you down the lounge chair and making your ass flush against his his own hips.

you squirm against him, desperate for friction then whimpering when your clit bumps against the head of his dick.

"patient, princess." a small smirk pulls on his pink lips as he watches you pout up at him.

"put it in already." you groan, getting more and more impatient.

and though satoru does like how horny you are for him, he's almost sure that he's more turned on then you are. he swears he's never been this hard before.

he leans down, his arms caging you in as his cock sinks into you. "stop squeezing me... can hardly move." he moans.

"c-can't," you gasp, feeling him stretch your pussy. "you're s'big..."

your ears were ringing and stars blurred your vision, the way he was splitting you open was deliciously sinful.

satoru lets out a low moan before pulling out almost completely, only leaving the tip in before thrusting his full length in.

"oh my god!" you cry out, your manicured fingers wrap around his torso and dig into his pale skin.

his pace was relentless, the feeling of his thick cock dragging inside your walls and his tip continously pressing that gooey spot in you was overwhelming paired with his balls slapping against your ass.

you were on the brink of your orgasm, feeling the build-up in your tummy. "g'nna cum—" your sobs turn into near screams as you feel one of satoru's hands creep down and rub your puffy clit.

"cum for me. cum on my cock, god, baby please cum. c-can feel you squeezing me, oh fuck." he babbles, not entirely sure of what he was saying but he knew one thing, and it was that he was going to make sure he got to fuck you every chance he got before you left for school again.

୨୧ SUGURU GETO

❥₊ ⊹ though you have all the money you need to buy new purses, clothes, and sports cars, money simply could not buy you cooking skills. after countless of cooking classes for beginners (and dozens of burnt meals), your parents decided to hire a private chef for you. and that chef was suguru.

he was there to make whatever you wished for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, which you appreciated but ever since he's come into your mansion, you've found yourself craving something... different.

and suguru could tell. each time you first came downstairs in the morning you were always in some silky pyjama set. dainty lace straps of the top would always be falling off of your shoulders where he'd see no bra strap causing his eyes to fall down to your breasts and he would see your pert nipples peeking through.

but this time, you had come downstairs in a tiny little pyjama dress that did not cover your ass at all. suguru had asked you what you wanted for breakfast and you mumbled "pancakes" quietly, still trying to wake up.

you brushed past him to open a top cupboard, standing on the tips of your toes to reach a cup, your dress moving upwards and showcasing your -- oh my god you weren't wearing any panties.

suguru held back a groan at the sight of your bare pussy before muttering a quiet "fuck it" and you felt his large hands grip your hips, flipping you around to face him before he urgently pressed his lips into yours.

soon enough, he has you bare with your ass sitting on the cold marble countertops. black tufts of hair tickle your inner thighs while your mind is overwhelmed with pleasure.

suguru licks a strip up your pussy, from your hole to your clit. then one of his hands creeps closer to your heat and a thick finger plunges into you causing you to moan out.

your hands grab at his hair, pulling at the roots and he moans against you. his fingers work wonders in you, each thrust calculated and precise. every press from the digits would hit that sweet spot that made your ears ring.

his mouth was the opposite of his fingers, wrapped around your clit slurping loudly and messily. his moans made you press his face deeper into your cunt, basically riding his face.

"cum on my face, pretty girl..." he looks up at you, alluring eyes looking at your own. "know you've been wanting to, i'll let you, baby.”

you let out a strangled cry and grind quicker against his face, clit bumping against his nose. your cries get higher in pitch until finally the dam breaks and you orgasm all over suguru's face yet he never once stops his ministrations. his mouth continues to work your clit and his fingers are still fucking into you.

you were about to be thrown into another mind-numbing orgasm, tears lining your eyes and you sobbed out in overstimulation until the high was ripped away from you.

"w-what?" you looked up at suguru, confused.

"this time, you're gonna cum on my cock instead," he says before you hear the buckle of his belt hit the floor.

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI

❥₊ ⊹ he knew he had an important meeting. knew it was with your father, but here nanami is, balls deep in his competitors daughter, whispering about how much he loves you.

you were bent over his large desk, your head facing the floor-to-ceiling windows. cute little tweed skirt pushed above your hips and your gucci monogrammed fishnet tights had a hole ripped out from the crotch.

when kento had ripped the hole, you gasped, ready to give him an earful of how hard it was for you to get those but you were quickly cut off by feeling his thick cock split you open accompanied by his strained voice saying, "i'll just get you another pair... another dozen if i get to do this to you..."

his hands were grabbing at your ass, while his eyes watched it recoil with each thrust of his hips. your pussy was dragging him in deeper, squeezing him impossibly tighter, it took everything in kento to not cum early, he needed to make sure you came at least twice before he does.

the sinful noise of skin against skin, accompanied by hushed moans permeated the office. each thrust of his cock was deep and impactful, but the pace was still quick. as much as he would love to take his time with you, he can't today.

"love you, baby," he moans. "love you so much, g'nna marry you one day, i swear..." kento rolls his hips, the head of his length pressing that gooey spot in you.

you let out a mewl, freshly manicured nails gripping the mahogany wood of the desk. you fuck your hips back onto him, relishing in the sheer amount of pleasure your boyfriend was providing you.

wanting to see your face, nanami's strong arms reach around your torso and pulls you upward, your back arching. he has one strong hand against your jaw, making your head face him while his other hand slithers down to your sopping pussy.

"k-kiss me..." you struggle between moans. "please kiss me."

and kento obliges. he presses his lips to yours as his hand begins to rub hurried circles to your puffy clit, making you moan into his mouth.

the drag of his thick cock paired with the stimulation of your clit was addicting, you pull apart from the kiss and your eyes roll to the back of your head. kento was overwhelming your senses, he was everywhere you needed him and everywhere you wanted him.

as your impending orgasm catches up to you, your hand grips the wrist of the hand playing with your pussy, the blunt of your nails dig into the skin.

"i-i'm cumming!" you sob, cunt sucking his cock in deeper and coating it as well as his wrist in your arousal. "love you s'much kento!" words slurring, still riding out your orgasm.

"one more time, princess... need you to cum one more time." he groans in your ear, moving downwards to press open-mouth kisses to your neck. his cock still bullying your insides while his lithe fingers rub your little clit relentlessly.

"y-yes!" you gasp, chest heaving.

"that's it... cum for me..." he coos.

as you come down from your second high, your ears ring but as soon as you come to, you realize the ringing wasn't from them. but instead it was from your phone.

[ (1) MISSED CALL FROM : DAD ]

dad: Y/N.

dad: Where the hell are you?!

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radioactiveparker · 10 months ago

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The Boy Next Door - Mechanic!Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader (Smut)

Summary - You make a compromise with your new neighbour that grants him desirable compensation.

Warnings - Strong Language / Voyeurism / Public / Oral (M & F Receiving) / Face Fucking / Deep Throating / Spitting / Slapping / Dacryphilia (?) / Praise Kink / Degradation / Fingering / Cum Eating / Squirting / Multiple Orgasms / Anal (?) / Spanking / Creampie

Word Count - 5.2K

~~~~~

You couldn't stand it anymore.

Another cough of an engine. Another bang on the hood. Another squeak of a wrench. You were gonna lose it. You had been lying in bed for almost an hour, trying to drown out the incessant sounds. You had listened to music on your Walkman, but you couldn't seem to turn it loud enough. You had shut all the windows of your trailer despite the sweltering summer heat and even almost suffocated yourself when covering your ears with your pillow.

Nothing seemed to work.

You had only moved into Hawkins' Forest Hills Trailer Park about a week ago, and this was the fourth night in a row this had occurred. You had yet to meet any of your neighbours, but you knew that there was one that you already couldn't stand. You wondered how the others put up with it, or perhaps they were so used to it that it never bothered them anymore. You had yet to get to that point.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Clank!

Squueeaakk!

Enough was enough. With a frustrated huff, you threw the covers off yourself, leaving you in a not-so-modest tank top and shorts. It was much too warm for anything else this time of year, and you were far too vexed to change. You flung the front door open and stormed your way out of the trailer.

It was still relatively light out. The sun sat low, lighting the western sky in a golden glow, and the daytime moon had risen high above Hawkins, ready to snuff out the sun's tenacious flame. The chill of the impending nighttime air sent shivers along your hot skin, cooling you down from being stuffed in your unventilated bedroom.

Outside the trailer on your left, a handsome man, roughly the same age as you, had his head buried in the engine of a car. He took a step back, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and eyed his work so far. His brow creased, and his lip twitch with dissatisfaction. You admired the soft waves of his hair as he raked a hand through it, accidentally pulling some strands loose from its bun. His arms were exposed in his oil-stained wife beater. The ripple of his toned muscles enamoured you as they moved, and you took a fancy to the tattoos that adorned them. His eyes were deep and earthy like potted soil, glistening in the setting sun, making them swirl like pools of honey. The sloping bridge of his nose scrunched with a disgruntled sniff, and his plum bottom lip was tucked between his teeth in concentration. You were captivated by their movement as they soundlessly shaped his words, when suddenly a hand waved at your face.

"Can I help you?" He impatiently repeated for a third time, snapping you out of your trance.

Your mouth bobbed open as you tried to remember why you were out here in the first place. You hated that you had put that furrow across his brow as he waited for your response, itching to get back to work. Your cheeks felt unbearably hot, turning you molten from the top downwards and melting under his gaze. You feared he was far too handsome to stay mad at.

You cleared your throat, "Yeah, could you keep it down, please? I'm trying to sleep."

His eyes softened ever so slightly. "Sorry, sweetheart, I've got a deadline to meet, and I work through the day. It's the only chance I get to work on it." And he went back to work as if that was a good enough answer.

You scoffed, irritation slowly rising again. You told yourself it didn't matter how hot his grease streaked muscles were. "Listen, I've got a job interview tomorrow morning that I'd rather not miss because I overslept."

"Congratulations, I hope it works out for you." There was a strain in his voice as he tightened another bolt, oblivious to the point you were trying to make. You clearly weren't getting anywhere with this guy.

"How about a compromise then? You can keep working but just promise to keep it down?"

He looked up at you over the hood of his car with those big brown eyes that were hard to resist melting for. He raised his eyebrows challengingly before stalking towards you, wringing his hands on an old rag. Your heart quickened, and you refrained from squeezing your thighs together when he licked his pink lips and threw the rag over his wide shoulder. He towered over you, close enough for you to smell his manly musk and see the drops of sweat trickle down the delicious skin of his neck that you so desperately wanted to sink your teeth into.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sweetheart. It's not exactly an easy task to do quietly." He spoke to you, but his eyes not-so-subtly gawked down your shirt (his vantage point giving him a direct view down it), only locking eyes with you when he had finished talking.

You resisted rolling your eyes - men were so easy to read. So you played into it. You arched your back slightly to push out your breasts, the cool breeze perking your nipples through your top, and rested a flirty hand on his bicep.

"Surely you deserve a break?" You stroked a finger down his arm teasingly and batted your lashes at him. "I mean, you said it yourself. You work all through the day, and now you're working all through the night? Even a strong, hard-working man like you needs to have a break sometimes."

His eyes lingered on your pouted lips, just long enough for you to catch him. His eyes darted around with every thought as he considered your proposition before staring at you intently. "If I do this for you, what do I get out of it? I'm gonna need some sort of compensation for the delay I'm gonna have."

You played with the hem of his tank top, tugging it playfully and revealing the defined muscles of his pecks. You were having far too much fun toying with this handsome stranger, and his devilishly good looks only made it that much easier to play your part. Besides, you thought he deserved it after causing you so many sleepless nights.

"I'm sure you can think of a way for me to thank you." You whispered seductively.

"You mean like a..." He looked around cautiously to make sure there was no one to overhear. "A you-know-what?" He whispered.

"A 'you-know-what'?" You laughed at his phrasing. "That all depends."

You spun in the direction of your trailer whipping your hair so he could smell the addictive scent of your shampoo. You swayed your hips as you walked back to your trailer. You were pretty sure that your ass cheeks were showing under your shorts, but that just made you all the more enticing.

"Depends on what?" He called, standing there like a lost puppy.

You skipped up the steps and peeked your head out the door. "On how good a night's sleep I get." You winked and shut the door.

~~~~~

The sun beamed just as brightly as it had the day before, yet you didn't let the sticky, stifling heat ruin your mood. You pranced out of your car, stilettos in one hand, and your most professional blazer draped over your arm in an attempt to cool down.

You practically danced up the steps to your trailer when a voice called out. "Hey! How did the interview go?"

You turned to see your neighbour from last night jogging towards you. He looked every bit as handsome as he had been the night before, only in the heat of the early afternoon sun he had decided to go shirtless. Your eyes shamelessly surveyed his exposed torso. His skin was smooth and glowing golden from working outdoors all day. He had more tattoos decorating his toned muscles that trailed down to his happy tail and v lines. You resisted raking your hands along his chiselled body.

"Great!" You beamed, "they said they were gonna call me back tomorrow."

He nodded. It was nice of him to ask, but you knew he was interested in something else. "And erm, how did you sleep?"

Your mood just got even better. You'd had a semi-decent sleep last night, but with the nerves for your interview, you could hardly keep still. But that didn't really matter to you anymore. The swell of pride from a successful interview was enough to keep your adrenaline charged up.

Despite flirting with your neighbour last night, you'd had no intentions of offering him any 'compensation', even if he had held up his end of the bargain. But after your interview went so ridiculously well, you decided that you deserved a little treat for yourself.

And by little, you meant a 6ft, tall, dark, and handsome treat.

You smirked, stalking towards him, and wrapped your free arm around his neck to pull him down to your level.

"Like a baby." You whispered in his ear.

A dangerous smile spread on his face. He bravely rested his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against him. You rested your hand on his chest to steady yourself. He drew himself closer and closer until your lips barely brushed together.

"Do you wanna come inside?" You whispered against his lips before they could touch.

"Oh boy, do I." He replied dreamily.

You tried not to blush at the unintentional double meaning and lead him inside of your trailer.

You were suddenly very embarrassed by the state of your home. While you had all of the basic furniture set out, you had yet to properly decorate, and you still had moving boxes dotted around your home. Luckily, Eddie didn't seem phased by any of this. You doubted he even gave himself a chance to look around because the second he stepped inside, he pounced on you. Your shoes and blazer fell from your hands as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His lips latched onto yours desperately, biting and tonguing you messily with an urgency that left you breathless.

His large hands had no intentions of resting as they raked up and down your body eagerly, already untucking your blouse from your skirt and popping the buttons open. Your hands were hardly any better. You scratched your nails lightly along his pecks and down the deliciously compact muscles woven over his stomach. You felt him all over as if you were applying an imaginary balm over the expanse of his hot flesh. His skin was tacky with sweat from the midday heat, but that didn't stop you from wanting your tongue all over his body.

"What's your name?" You breathed between kisses.

"So you know what to scream later?" He mused, forcing his tongue between your lips.

You moaned around it before pulling away. Your tone sparked with frisky playfulness. "Why else would I ask?"

His laugh rumbled against your lips before he moved back to look at you. His eyes locked onto yours with a dazzling intensity. Your breath stuttered in your throat. His intense beauty overwhelmed you for a moment, and you wondered if the Goddess of Love had carved him herself.

"It's Eddie." He smiled softly. "What's yours?"

"Eddie." You repeated to yourself, testing how the name tasted in your mouth. You liked how it felt on your tongue.

Eddie.

You told him your name, and he smiled like you had handed him his favourite flower.

"Beautiful." He murmured to no one in particular before he latched his mouth onto yours once more.

It was as if you had never taken pause. The intensity of the kiss was just as strong as it had been before, if not stronger. The two of you seemed more desperate somehow, like exploring each others mouths was how you would become akin - tasting each others memories, sucking up stories and lapping up every word from the tips of your tongues.

You pulled away from his kiss as he pushed your blouse off your shoulders and began suckling the salty skin of his neck. You could feel your core swelling at the hitch in his breath. It didn't occur to you how difficult it would be for him to hide your hickeys and you only hoped that he would choose to display your artwork instead.

Your hands continued lower until they stopped at the waistband of his jeans. You reached for his belt, only to find it already unbuckled and his buttons undone. He gave you a smile with far too much amusement for him to feign sheepishness effectively. You managed to wipe that smile off his face, however, as your hand compelled itself to burrow into his boxers. His eyes flashed with surprise at your boldness before they rolled into his skull. You revelled in satisfaction as his face rippled with pleasure. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the weight of him in your hand; thick and heavy, just weeping to be engulfed by any of your tight little holes. With your other hand, you pulled his zipper the rest of the way down to let his jeans fall to his ankles, and you allowed yourself to fall with them.

It was only when you rested on your knees and could see between Eddie's legs that you noticed your front door was still wide open and the two of you were entirely exposed before it. You felt a surge of arousal shoot through your veins. There were no trailers opposite yours, and you looked out directly to the road. There was no one around, however. Nearly the entirety of Hawkins would be at the community pool on a day like this, but that did nothing to dampen the rush of getting caught. You quickly unclasped your bra and threw it to the side. Your nipples perked almost instantly as if testing the waters of how much you could get away with, challenging somebody to drive by - to stop and watch. The exposure had so much slick dribbling onto your panties that you feared for a brief moment that you had wet yourself with excitement. Eager to continue, you forced his boxers down so his fat, throbbing cock sprung in your face.

It was beautifully red and crying pearly tears of desperation that you lapped up hungrily, not wanting a drop to go to waste. Eddie hissed at the sensation, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure and running his fingers through your hair. He didn't force you on his cock like he wished he could, but instead he brushed your hair from your face, angling your head so you looked up at him through your eyelashes and pulled on your chin to open your mouth. And you did all of this willingly, practically drooling just imagining the sweaty, salty taste of his cock sliding down your throat. You stuck out your tongue eagerly and allowed him to slap the head of his cock on your warm wet muscle. Eddie didn't want to be rough with you. He'd only just met you - he didn't even know if you liked it rough. But there was a fierceness blazing in your eyes, challenging him to do his worst.

And when Eddie couldn't stand anymore of his own self-teasing, he forced his entire length all the way down your throat in one fell swoop, and it welcomed him without hesitation. He released an animalistic groan at the feeling of the fleshy walls constricting around his large shaft with a gag. You sniffed the tears from your eyes when he slid from your throat, a pop reverberating from your trailer walls from the suction of your cheeks. He allowed you a few breaths before snaking his way down your oesophagus and into your lungs. He held himself there before testing a few small thrusts. The force of his hips pushed him impossibly deeper as he stole the air from your chest. You tapped his leg for him to release you but he held the back of your head firmly, forcing his cock to remain sheathed inside your heaving gullet. You could feel the pressure burning your temples as you whined around Eddies length, begging him for air. He pulled you back by your hair, his cock throbbing as he watched you cough and splutter for air, tears rolling down your cheeks and a string of spit running from his cock to your chin. He positioned your head so your face was pointed directly at the ceiling. He hovered above you admiring the enjoyment on your face.

"Open." He demands.

You did as you were told, opening your mouth wide and sticking out your tongue. You expected him to force himself back down your throat, but instead, he violently spat into your mouth. The majority of it landed on your tongue, but a few splashes landed on your cheeks and chin. But that didn't matter when Eddie used the head of his cock to swipe it all up and ram it down your throat. He repeated it a few times, making sure he got it all off your face before prodding the head of his cock into the inside of your cheek. He kept it there and spat on his length, watching it run down his shaft and into your fuckable mouth.

He gave your cheek a few quick taps, moaning as he felt the bulge of his cock through it. He did it again, harder this time, testing how hard you would let him go until he was full on slapping his cock through your face. He loved the heat blooming on your abused cheek, hoping to smack a matching one on your ass soon, and your tears had his eyes rolling back. It was all too much and not enough for him.

He immediately plunged back into you, setting a brutal pace, the blunt head of his cock bruising your throat. You gagged and moaned and cried around his length, but none of it was an attempt to make him stop.

Eddie could feel himself reaching his climax dangerously quickly. The soft walls of your throat were so irresistible that he couldn't help himself but pound into your face. He was moaning wildly and panting heavily. He found himself infatuated by the way the sunlight reflected off the sweat, spit, and tears on your face, glistening like the stones of a babbling brook.

A swift breeze swept in from behind and he moaned at the feeling of it cooling the spit on his hot length. It was only then that he too noticed the door was still wide open.

Dirty fucking girl he thought to himself.

You had been facing the door this whole time and knew it was open, yet made no attempt to confide yourselves in the safety of your home. Holding onto the back of your head, he pulled you towards the door, positioning the two of you so you were side on. The two of you were completely exposed, and there was definitely no question about what the two of you were doing. The thought of getting caught, picturing people gathering and watching in shock, and even people filming on their video cameras were all so arousing to Eddie. His cock throbbed in agreement.

He so desperately wanted someone to walk by.

To see the kind of power he could have.

The new girl in town was a whore for the town freak.

Eddie liked that idea very much.

It was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he forced himself to stop. He removed himself from you, and you gasped for breath. His hand gently cupped your cheek, brushing the tears from your face with a glaze of adoration over his irises.

"You're fucking incredible." He praised. "Such a good fucking girl. How lucky am I to of found someone like you."

His praises had your juices dripping on the floor, integrating with the other fluids that dripped from your face. You smiled drunkenly at his words, and your chest warmed with pride.

"Stand up for me, sweetheart." Eddie held out a hand to help you up.

You stood on two shaky legs, already feeling the bruises forming on your knees. When you raised to your full height, Eddie immediately pushed his lips to yours, licking into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue.

"I know how much you want me to cum down that pretty little throat of yours, baby, but I just gotta be inside you."

You moaned a sigh, your cunt already clenching in anticipation.

"You're such a dirty girl aren't you sweetheart? Just look at how desperate you are for my cock. You want me to fill you up? Pump you full of my cum?"

"Yes." You whimpered, throat raw and hoarse.

He turned you around, pressing you against the door frame so half the length of your body leaned outside. You couldn't help the jolt of anxiety that struck you in the chest. As Eddie pushed his front to your back, you couldn't help but take a glance at your surroundings to make sure nobody was there.

"Let them see."

"Huh?"

"It doesn't matter if there's people. Let them see. Let them see this perfect fucking body. Let them wish it was them fucking this sweet little cunt instead of me."

You could have came from his vulgar words alone. You nodded obediently and let him bunch your skirt up around your waist. Eddie released a devilish laugh at the juices running down your legs. His fingers toyed with your clothed folds, spreading the slick along the damp material and gliding effortlessly over your aching clit. You moaned at the relief but quickly drew a hand over your mouth to muffle it.

"Ah, ah, ah." Eddie tutted, forcefully gripping both of your wrists and pinning your arms behind your back. He was able to hold both wrists in one of his large hands whilst he used the other to tug your panties around your ankles.

Without warning, he plunged two long fingers into your tight heat, stretching you wide with his thick fingers. You whimpered at the sensation. You could only imagine what his cock would feel like. You could feel it now, in fact, burning red hot against the supple cheek of your ass.

His fingers moved frustratingly slow in and out of your aching hole, curling them when it reached his knuckles. Your juices squelched out of you with every breach and dripped down his forearm. After a few minutes of pleasureful torture, he pulled his fingers from you and sucked on them hungrily.

"Fuck, I gotta have a taste of that." He whispered to himself, and squatted down so his face was level with your dripping cunt.

He still had one hand holding your wrists to the small of your back, but his other hand pulled at your thigh, encouraging you to take a step back so you could bend over more. As you did, you found yourself spreading your legs wider too, letting him see how your gaping pussy winked at him with every clench. Your pussy glistened just as beautifully as your face had when it was caked in tears and spit, only your pussy cried to be absolutely assaulted by his cock. And he would give that to you eventually.

But not right now.

Instead, he used two fingers to spread your folds apart and gently peek your clit out from under its hood. That feeling alone was enough to make your legs start trembling again. So when he licked a powerful stripe over you, you just lost it completely.

His mouth practically molested your pulsing cunt. He tongued messily over your clit, nibbled at your folds and plunged his tongue as far into your pathetic hole as he could. His nose prodded at your asshole with every swipe of his tongue, causing you to push your hips back into him.

"Eddie, please." You begged him to relent - to just fuck you senseless.

"Oh no sweetheart, not until you cum on my tongue. Be a good girl, and let me taste you."

And with that he suckled onto your clit like a calf at its mother's teet. He was harsh and sedulous, in a single-minded frenzy for you to grant him a taste of your sweet elixir straight from the source. You grant him that wish gladly, feeling it trickle from you in a steady stream following each clench of your orgasming cunt.

Eddie drank it all up eagerly, slurping your pussy to get every last drop out of you. His eyes sparkled with both amusement and desire. He had slept around with a handful of women, true. But he had never seen a woman squirt before.

He was addicted already.

He felt it had become his life's purpose to watch you squirt for him over and over again until there was nothing left inside of you.

His cock was practically purple at this point, and it dribbled lazily onto the floor. He needed to feel you spasming on his cock, drenching his length with your squirt.

You were too high to be embarrassed about how quickly he had made you cum. He barely gave you time to recover from your orgasm before he forced his cock to fit inside of your quivering cunt. You weren't trying to resist, his cock was just simply too big.

And he was hardly halfway in.

You cried at the stretch, moans slipping in between sobs. At the sound, Eddie couldn't resist anymore. He spat harshly where your bodies met before using your arms to force you backwards onto his full length. A sudden sharp pain bolted through your core, and you released a strangled cry. But he did not stop.

Your cries spurred him on, and he drove himself harder and faster into you. His breath was a ragged growl in your ear as he bent his body over yours. He bit and sucked on your neck and shoulders with a severity that delighted you. There was no tenderness in any of his actions. He was a ravenous animal feasting on your flesh, doing with your body as he pleased.

But you did not want him to be gentle.

Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop.

You would tell him if you could, but the pain had snatched away your voice. In the beginning, it blazed like a fire, burning up any innocence that was left within you. Until pleasure snuffed out that raging flame. Instead, the embers glowed hotly deep in your core.

You moaned wildly like a whore at every harsh thrust. If, for some reason, any of your neighbours were sat indoors, they would undoubtedly be able to hear what was going on. That only egged you to moan louder. Eddies name rolled repeatedly from your lips with only gasps and grunts between each one. Eddie loved that the entire trailer park could hear you screaming his name. He hoped his annoying neighbour Travis, who had come to Eddie earlier in the day, boasting about how he was gonna ask the hot new chick out, was sat weeping pathetically as he jerked off to you moaning another man's name.

"Oh fuck baby."

"That feels so good, baby."

"Baby, I'm so close."

"Nuh hun, you know what my name is, sweetheart. Say it."

Every stroke pushed the breath from your lungs, expelling the air from you in arousing moans.

"Say it." He slaps a demanding hand to the cheek of your ass.

He pounded harder, only making it more difficult for you. The best you could do was a pathetic whimper. He slapped your ass again before yanking your head backwards by your hair until your body released from the doorframe, and he was the only thing holding you up.

His lips pressed to your ear. "Be a good girl and say it."

Your mouth hung open, eyes squeezed shut tight in pleasure as you panted wildly. He released your arms from your back and used his thumb to gather your creamy spend that had ringed around his cock as he thrusted. He circled your tight asshole with a light pressure before forcing it inside. It sucked him in gladly and he moaned loudly as he felt himself thrusting inside of you.

"Fuck Eddie!"

"That's it, sweetheart. That's my good girl. Say it again."

Your legs shook violently beneath you, causing Eddie to wrap his other arm around you to keep you up right. His hips never faulterd once, clapping loudly against your ass. Your head was spinning from feeling completely filled to the brim.

"Fuck! Eddie!"

Your pleasure was swelling deeply within you, expanding like a balloon seconds away from bursting. Eddie could feel both of your holes struggling to tighten around him as you orgasm tietered on the precipice.

"C'mon sweetheart, be a good girl and soak my cock."

His words send you over the edge. Your eyes rolled so far back into your skull that you wondered for a moment whether you had just blacked out from pure ecstacy. Eddies hips remained ferocious as your walls milked him for all he's worth. The feeling of you spasming around him, your squirt soaking his cock, splashing everywhere with each thrust and running down his legs was enough to have him shoot his thick load deep inside of you.

"Eddie!" You moaned at the feeling, somehow feeling fuller than ever.

"What was that?" A voice called from the distance.

Approaching footsteps caused you to rush in a flurry of panic as you pushed Eddie inside and slammed the door shut, leaving the stranger to wonder whether they had missed the rain seeing the puddle on your doorstep.

The two of you tumbled to the floor, Eddie groaning as you landed on top of him. You were surprised to see his cock was still shooting a thick rope of cum onto his stomach. You quickly scrambled on top of him, sinking back down onto his sensitive length to allow him to finish completely inside of you. He hissed as your wall stroked him to the end, loving the view of your shimmering naked body above him. He held you there as his cock softened, tracing his fingers along every curve and crease along your body as if trying to commit them to memory.

"Are you okay?"

Your heart swelled at the concern dripping from his lips. You smiled at him softly. "Never better."

There was a pause as the two of you relished in each others company, taking the time to admire one another.

"I'm sorry, by the way." Eddie broke the silence, staring deeply into your eyes.

You tilted your head in confusion, taking his hand in yours, worried that he thought he might have hurt you. "What for?"

"For keeping you up last night." He smiled sheepishly. "No one's ever really complained, so I didn't think it was a big deal."

You couldn't help but giggle. "It's okay, Eddie. I'll let you off on one condition."

He laughed in amusement. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"You take me on a date."

"Well, I would be much of a gentlemen if I didn't take a lady on a date after fucking her brains out, would I?"

~~~~~

Taglist:

@mdurdenpitt @wheel-of-hyperfixation @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @arlxt

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie stranger things #mechanic!eddie #mechanic!eddie munson

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skywalkerslvt · 1 year ago

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Leon Fucking You In A Sketchy Alleyway

❥Pairing: Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

❥Summary: Leon and reader get horny while he teaches her how to play pool, so he fucks her in a sketchy alleyway.

❥CW: 18+, smut, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, sorta praise kink? 2.2k words

❥a/n: another very rushed and not proofread fic lol! Was half asleep when I finished writing it so I hope it's not too hard to follow. Enjoy <3 pics are from pinterest

The day had been long and exhausting. You and Leon had spent hours on patrol, dealing with the usual chaos that the city seemed to attract. As partners on the police force, you and Leon had grown accustomed to each other's company, you developed a rhythm that made every situation–stressful or not–so easy. You guys were inseparable, best friends even, and you worked well together.

After clocking out, a few of your coworkers suggested heading to a nearby bar to unwind. It was a dingy, dimly lit place, frequented by off duty cops and regulars looking for a cheap drink. You and Leon had exchanged a glance and shrugged–why not?

The bar was slightly crowded, the stale air smelling of cheap beer and cigarettes. You found a table with your coworkers and ordered a round of drinks. The chatter was lively, everyone sharing stories from the day and laughing at old jokes.

A few drinks later, you found yourself tipsy and alone at your table, your coworkers mingling around the bar. One of them was having a game of pool with Leon. You had decided to stay at the table and watch the game while nursing your drink.

Leon stood at the pool table, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he lined up his shot. He leaned over, his body a perfect blend of tension and relaxation. God, he looked good. The two of you had developed a close bond over the years. You trusted him with your life, and he trusted you with his. Your friendship was solid, built on shared experiences and mutual respect. Over time, your friendship had grown into something deeper–an unspoken bond that nothing else could compare to. You found yourself drawn to him in ways that went beyond mere friendship, your heart racing whenever he flashed that boyish smile or offered a comforting word. It was more than just professional respect that you two shared; it was magnetic attraction that was getting harder and harder for the two of you to ignore.

It wasn't until Leon had walked over and stood in front of you, that you realized the game was over. You had been so lost in your thoughts, staring at him, that you hadn't noticed.

“Ever played?” he asked with a boyish grin, nodding to the pool table.

You shook your head, taking a sip of your drink. “Nope. Never learned how. I've always wanted to try, though.”

A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. “Want me to teach you? It's not too hard.”

You hesitated, feeling a flutter of nervousness. “Sure, why not? But be warned, I'm a fast learner.”

Leon laughed as you stood up, grabbing a couple of cue sticks. “We'll see about that. Come on.”

As you walked over to the pool table, the noisy sounds of the bar faded into the background, your only focus being Leon as he handed you a cue stick and explained the rules of the game. His hands occasionally brushed against yours as he adjusted your grip and stance.

“First, you need to get your stance right,” he said, positioning himself behind you. As he pressed his chest to your back, he began guiding your arms with his hands. “Like this.”

You could feel his breath ghost on your neck, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. You hummed in affirmation, trying to focus on the game.

“Now, aim for the ball,” he continued, voice low and steady. “And don’t forget to keep your eyes on the cue ball.”

You took a shot, but missed the ball completely. Leon chuckled lightly behind you. “That’s alright, it takes practice. Here, let me help you get the hang of it.”

He pressed himself even closer behind you and placed a hand on your upper back, pushing you forward until you were bent over the table. Heat rose to your cheeks as you felt him put his arms around you, his much larger hands enveloping your own as he corrected your grip once again and guided your hands into the correct position. His crotch was barely grazing your ass, but that was all it took to turn you on. You inhaled sharply at the compromising position you two were in, feeling heat begin to pool between your thighs.

Leon noticed your sudden intake of breath, and leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, most likely from the few drinks he had. “Now, watch how I do it,” he said while guiding your hands.

With his guidance, you took another shot, this time hitting the ball. It rolled slowly, hitting another ball, but didn’t make any pockets. “I guess I’m not as fast a learner as I thought,” you said with a shaky exhale.

Leon chuckled, the sound sending butterflies throughout your stomach. “You’re doing great. Just need a bit of practice. He moved his hands to your waist, his presence a comforting weight behind your back.

"Want to try again?" he asked, his voice softer now, more intimate. You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. He positioned your hands again, his touch lingering longer than necessary. The atmosphere around you grew thick with unspoken tension, each brush of his fingers against yours sending sparks through your veins.

As you lined up for another shot, Leon's hand slid from your back to your waist, his fingers pressing into your hip. "Just like that," he whispered, his breath warm against your neck. You could feel his chest rising and falling with each breath, his closeness intoxicating.

You took the shot, and this time, the ball sank into a pocket. You couldn't help but grin, turning your head slightly to look at him. "I did it," you said, your voice filled with a mix of surprise and triumph.

Leon smiled back, eyes locking onto yours.“Atta girl! Let's try it one more time.”

As you took the shot, you felt Leon's body press even closer against yours, his crotch pressed firmly against your ass now, and you could feel his half hard cock through his jeans. His breath was hot against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. As you took your shot, you experimentally pushed your hips back, slightly grinding your ass against his crotch.

Leon's grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he fought to control his own desire. You could feel the tension in his body, the barely contained need radiating from him in waves.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, his voice strained with restraint. "You're a natural."

You turned to look at him, the intensity in his eyes leaving you breathless. "Thanks," you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper.

Leon opened his mouth to say something, but abruptly closed it in hesitation. “Do you…Do you wanna get out of here?” He asked.

You caught the hesitation in Leon's voice, sensing there was something more behind his question. Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched his eyes for any sign of what he was really asking.

His gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, a silent invitation hanging in the air. Without a word, you nodded, your own desire mirrored in his intense gaze.

In a heartbeat, Leon took your hand, leading you through the crowded bar towards the exit. The world around you faded into a blur as anticipation coursed through your veins.

The night air was cool on your flushed skin. Leon led you to the dark alleyway beside the bar, abruptly pushing you flush against the rough brick wall, and before you could even register the slight pain, his lips were on yours in a sloppy, open mouthed kiss. His hands roamed your body, moving up from your hips to your breasts where he groped you roughly.

Your hands grabbed his now fully hard cock through the fabric of his jeans, causing him to let out a strangled moan into your mouth. You fumbled with the buttons on his jeans, the urgency in your movements mirroring his own need for you. Leon's ragged breaths mingled with your own as you finally succeeded, the sound of his heavy breaths filling the air as you pushed his jeans down his hips.

His hands had moved down to your thighs now, reaching up your skirt as he ran his finger along the wetness of your panties.

“Fuck…already so wet f’me,” he teased as he slid your soaked panties to the side, gathering your slick on his fingers as he pushed a finger inside of you while circling your clit with his thumb.

You whined as you began pumping his hard cock, precum staining your hand. “Leon…need you inside of me, now.”

“Fuck–I know, baby, I know. Just be a good girl and take my fingers for now. Then you can go dumb on my cock, yeah?”

You moaned and nodded, bucking your hips into his hand to gain more friction on your clit.

With a wicked grin, Leon complied, his finger delving deeper inside you, curling and stroking in all the right places as you whimpered and squirmed against him. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, the sensation building with every thrust of his hand.

You clung to him desperately, your need for release growing with each passing second. Leon's touch was electrifying, his fingers expertly navigating your slick folds as you teetered on the edge of ecstasy.

Right when you were about to cum, Leon removed his fingers, bringing them up to his lips and tasting your slick. He grabbed your thigh, holding it up around his hip as he guided his thick tip to your entrance, pushing in slowly.

You keened at how his thick cock stretched the walls of your cunt. You've never had a cock this big, and he was filling you so good. You clenched around him as he gave you a second to adjust, causing him to let out a low groan.

Unable to hold back any longer, Leon rolled his hips into yours as he leaned in and began sucking marks onto your neck. His cock was angled just right and was brushing against that gummy spot that had you seeing stars.

You began meeting his thrusts, urging him to take you deeper and faster. Leon’s breath was hot against your ear as he moaned dirty praises, igniting a fire deep within you.

As his thrusts became sloppier, signalling his quickly approaching release, Leon began working his fingers on your clit, pushing you further to the edge.

The alleyway echoed with the rhythmic slapping of Leon's hips against your own, mingled with your shared moans that filled the air.

With one final, deep thrust, he hit your g-spot perfectly, sending you over the edge. Your chest heaved as you let out a strangled cry, your walls clenching tightly around his cock. A wave of ecstasy washed over you, your cunt gushing around him in a release that left you trembling.

The sensation of your velvety walls tightening around him was all Leon needed. His grip on your hips tightened, and with a guttural moan, he buried himself deep inside you. You felt his cock twitch as he spilled his hot cum, filling you completely. His body shuddered against yours, both of you lost in the overwhelming pleasure of the moment.

As the intensity of your orgasms subsided, Leon remained close, his breath warm against your neck. He gently pulled out, and you could feel your combined releases trickling down your thighs. He steadied you, his hands now soft and tender on your waist.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low, but laced with concern.

You nodded, a dopey smile playing on your lips. “More than okay,” you replied, leaning your forehead against his.

Leon chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “We should probably get back before the others start wondering where we are,” he said, but he made no move to pull away from you.

“Yeah, we probably should,” you replied reluctantly, moving to adjust your clothes.

Before you could move to leave, Leon caught your wrist, pulling you back for one more kiss. It was slow and tender, unlike the kiss you shared in the heat of the moment. “This…this wasn't just a one-time thing, right?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for him. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

With a final shared glance and a knowing smile, you both made your way back into the bar. The noise and lights greeted you, a stark contrast to the intimate darkness of the alleyway. As you rejoined your coworkers, the atmosphere was lively, with no one seeming to have noticed your absence.

Leon slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. "Let's grab another drink," he suggested, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You nodded, your heart still racing from the intensity of your time together. As you sipped your drinks and mingled with your friends, the connection between you and Leon felt stronger than ever, the weight of your shared secret hanging between you.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut

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lifeasadorkwithnolife · 3 months ago

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Monster (Azriel X Reader)

Word Count: 4700

Summary: Everyone thinks that Y/N is a horrible person for what she did under the mountain, and she agrees, but Azriel realizes that things aren't what they seem.

I have not wrote any fanfiction in 5 years, which is absolutely crazy. I've been talking to my boyfriend a lot about story ideas and he asked me, why don't you just write it down? So here it is, it's not exactly what I used to write.

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You had hoped you would die under the caldron-forsaken mountain. The 49 years have cost you everything: your family, your court and your humanity. Amarantha had chosen you to be her right hand, you had no one to lose and everything to gain. You became known as Amarantha’s bitch, arguably a worse title than Rhysand’s. Your job was to keep discipline under the mountain and frequently had to whip and grant Amarantha’s wishes of public torture sessions when the Attor was not around.

Your reputation had made it outside of the mountain and throughout the courts, you were known to be ruthless and would kill without hesitation. You were an absolute monster.

Before Feyre had come along and saved you all from the mountain, the only one who understood your pain was Rhysand. For the first few years of your position, Rhysand would look at you with hatred in his eyes. He tortured people too, but you knew he didn’t enjoy it in the same way you pretended to. Every time you tortured the poor soul who got on Amarantha’s nerves, you would go up to them after the fact and hold their hand and ask if they had learned their lesson.

You had a gift and a curse, your gift was the ability to absorb pain from someone else, but the curse was that pain demanded to be felt eventually. Every whipping, every burn, or every cut that you performed, you took it from them to feel later. You kept this secret to yourself originally, but it’s quite hard to hide things from Rhysand.

On one unfortunate night, he entered your chambers under the mountain and witnessed the blood beginning to pool on your back. “Someone give you a taste of your own medicine?” He smirked, leaning against the door frame.

“Get the fuck out, Rhysand.” You croaked, mouth dry as you felt another blow to your back from the whipping earlier. “If I wanted to sleep with someone, it wouldn’t be Amarantha’s seconds.” You could feel the walls you built to protect yourself from Rhysand crumbling, like they were nothing but paper, and his eyes grew in realization.

He walked over to you and placed your face in his hands, his eyes growing wide with understanding. “You don’t have to bear their pain alone, Y/N.” He whispered, but you shook your head.

“Please go away.” You whispered, tears filling your eyes. Nobody had ever seen you like this under the mountain, “I can handle it, really.”

You felt the next blow and cried out, Rhysand caught you in his arms and held you. You felt him in your mind, and then your physical pain was gone, and it was just you both in your head. He was right there, in front of you, and all you could do was sigh. “I can explain.”

“Are you…. Are you taking their pain?” He whispered, and you nodded. “Why?”

“We’re all trapped here.” You replied, your voice echoing across the black void. “Someone will hurt them either way, at least if I hurt them… I can take their pain away and they can pass peacefully.”

“How long have you been doing this?” Rhys asked, and you shrugged. “I could have helped you, we’re on the same side.”

“It’s my pain to bear, I wouldn’t have agreed to this job if I couldn’t take their pain away.” You whispered back, he nodded in understanding.

From then on, you had one friend under the mountain, and when Feyre became part of the picture, you had two.

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When Feyre won the trials and you were released from the mountain, you realized that you had nowhere to go. Your court has disowned you and your family was…gone. Rhysand invited you back to Velaris to the dismay of his inner circle, and he agreed that your gift would remain a secret until you were ready.

You trained as hard as you could and tried your best time and time again to win over the inner circle. You promised yourself you would tell them about your gift eventually but couldn’t bring yourself to do it, feeling like you would be using it as an “excuse” to torture others and end all the lives you did, when it was really inexcusable.

The member of the inner circle that hated you the most was Azriel, he would immediately leave any room you entered, refuse to go on missions with you and would even stop training as soon as you were in earshot. You could sense him staring at you from afar sometimes, and whenever you would look it would be anger, hatred and maybe a little confusion in his eyes.

You tried your best to make friends with everyone, but it’s hard to be friends with a sadistic murderer who laughed as they were killing the weak and defenseless. The only people who gave you a chance were Cassian and Feyre, and you couldn’t be more appreciative.

One night, during one of your nightmares, you awoke to large hands shaking you awake and came face to face with Cassian. He looked at you in concern and placed a hand around your head in a brotherly, comforting way. Tears flowed down your face. “You were shouting your own name, what were you dreaming about?”

“Cassian, do you think I can be forgiven for what I’ve done?” You whispered, looking up at him. He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I need to tell you the truth.”

Cassian was the first person you willingly told your story to, and he looked absolutely horrified. You showed him the scars on your back and told him about the worst things you have ever done. He comforted you for hours, and in return told you his stories about how he’s killed and how guilty he feels about it sometimes.

It was nice having Cassian after that point, you two would spar, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to throw a punch when he was open. His laughter was a wonderful sound, and he would often catch you staring at Azriel- longing for his forgiveness but knowing that would most likely never happen. You knew he didn’t trust you, and you don’t think he ever would.

---------------------------

“I need you two to go on a mission together.” Rhys explains, looking between you and Azriel. “I don’t care about how much you don’t like each other; this needs to be done. The attor was sighted on our border, and I need him found.”

You took a quick look at Azriel before turning away, his hands were clenched into fists, and his shadows were swarming around angrily. “I can go by myself just fine.” Azriel snapped, “She’ll just slow me down and you know it.”

“I need you BOTH to go, which is why Y/N is here.” Rhysand clasped his hands together, looking at you expectantly. “I think she will be helpful in this mission, since the attor is involved.”

“I am familiar with the attor.” You sighed, peeking over at Azriel. “I may be able to lure him out.”

“I bet he’s very fond of you,” Azriel turned to look at you, “I bet you killed more people than he did, did you guys keep count like a competition?”

You stepped back, you had barely spoken to Azriel, but these were his first words with you. Every reassurance that Cassian, Feyre and Rhys had ever provided seemed to disappear.

“I just don’t understand Rhys, why is she here? The rest of us have killed, sure, but for good reason. She is a monster.” Azriel’s shadows circled the room, and you could feel the hatred coming off him in waves.

‘You’re not going to defend yourself?’ Rhys asked you, and you gave your head a slight shake.

“This is the last I’m hearing of it, Azriel, you better bring her back here in one piece or so help me.”

---------------

After 3 cold days of searching for the Attor, he was nowhere to be found, and Azriel’s snide comments were getting on your nerves. The flight back to Velaris was cold and silent.

“Hey, I’m sorry that we came all this way and didn’t catch him.” You whispered, staring down at the darkening landscape.

“I just hoped that you would be useful for something.” He replied, not even looking in your direction. You sighed, your heart plummeting to your stomach. You had hoped, on some deluded level, that this trip would allow you to talk to him and explain yourself and maybe- just maybe- he wouldn’t hate you so much anymore.

“I just wanted to say sorry- not just for the attor but for everything.” He looked down at you, and you couldn’t tell what expression was on his face. “I’m just- I’m trying to be better than I was under the mountain, the person I was then is not me. I hope you can believe that.”

He nodded, looking back up at the setting sun. “I believe that you want to be better.” He said solemnly, “But if what everyone is saying is true, then there is no hope for you. You will never change, even if Rhysand and Cassian don’t see it yet.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to nod, you felt the cold tears sting your eyes but tried to blink them away before they could fall. Azriel saw you for who you really were, the murderer. At least he won’t lie to you like everyone else has.

The silence ticked by when all the sudden, an arrow flew by your head and hit Azriels wing with a sharp crack. He grunted in pain and dropped a couple feet; another 2 arrows swished by and tore through his other wing. “Azriel- land!” You shouted, searching the darkened forest floor for any sign of the attackers.

“No shit Y/N.” Azriel shouted, his wings pumping as the ground came in closer. You felt Azriel turn to the side as another arrow whizzed towards your head, but he took another arrow to the wing. Did he just…protect you? You two landed on the ground in a heap, but you stood up quickly, knife in hand as you searched the darkness for your attackers.

You feel a presence behind you, and turn around, quickly taking the archer to the ground and holding your knife to his neck. He was older, with pointed ears and white hair. He barred his teeth angrily, but with your knees holding down his arms and knife against his neck, he was stuck.

“Why are you attacking us?” You seethed, your knife getting dangerously close to his neck. He struggled.

“They told us you would be passing through- you killed my whole family you bitch!” he shouted, you froze, “Just kill me! Like you did to all of them!” You stood there in silence, hesitating, trying to remember who it was that you killed. You couldn’t kill this man too, you promised you would never hurt anyone again.

Suddenly you were under him, his knife starting to slide across your neck. You didn’t even raise your hands to defend yourself, you could see the pain of his loss clearly on his face. You nodded, closing your eyes as you waited for him to finish. You remembered Azriel’s words from earlier, he was right after all, there would be no redemption either way.

You felt the weight lift from your throat and took a deep breath, opening your eyes and seeing Azriel’s angry from holding up the man. Azriel looked absolutely terrifying in that moment. “No, don’t hurt him- “You started, but Azriel had his knife out and slashed his neck, throwing his body to the ground. You cried out, crawling over to the males bloodied form. His eyes frantically looked around, and you grabbed his hand, but there was no usual tug, no usual surge of power as you took his pain, you looked up again and met with lifeless eyes. The male was already gone.

“Did you…did you know him?” Azriel spat out, grabbing you angrily by your arm and pulling you up. “He shot me out of the sky and just had a knife to your neck, and now you’re crying over him?”

“of course I didn’t know him!” You pushed back at Azriel, looking down at the male who was dead. “I just…. I just….” You felt a wave of nausea roll through you and turned so you could dry heave. Another death, because of you, again.

“You just what Y/N?” Azriel barked, and you flinched from him. “Tell me what is going on.”

“He’s dead!” You whispered. Azriel looked astounded, looking at the man then at you. He then laughed. “Why are you laughing?”

“Give me a fucking break, Y/N. Lets go.” He grabbed your arm, pulling you with him.

------------

You two wandered until you found a cabin, the candles were still burning when you arrived and there was a fire going in the fireplace. You were becoming more worried about Azriel by the minute, his skin was losing it’s color and he was almost limping as he walked. As soon as you both entered the cabin, he sat down in a chair and started removing his leathers.

“Azriel- are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I just need to get this arrow out of my wing.” He muttered, looking at you. You watched him as he reached behind him, failing to get a good grip on it. “Would you mind?”

“I can help.” You whispered, coming up behind him and looking at his wing. His wings were beautiful, dark and somewhat translucent, you had never been this close to him before. You could see an oddish green color seeping from one of the wounds and your heart dropped, poison.

You slowly touched the area around the protruding arrow, he tensed up. Your fingers lightly traced the area around it, trying to figure out if pulling it out was the best option or if keeping it in to stop the blood flow would be better. Removing it would probably be best, since it was poisoned.

“Azriel, I’m going to remove it now, okay?” You said quietly, bracing your hands on the arrow. This would hurt like a bitch, but only for a second. You pulled, wincing as the wing membrane tore open a little more. Azriel grunted. “I’m so sorry, but it should start to feel better now, okay? Let me go outside so we can ice it.”

“No- don’t go.” Azriel looked back at you, his expression a little less guarded. “There could be more of them out there- it’s unsafe.”

“I’ll be okay, we really need to keep an eye on this for a little bit.” You reassured him and walked out of the warm cabin and into the harsh cold. You grabbed as much snow as you could fit in your sack and came back in just a few minutes later, as soon as you walked in Azriel seemed to slump in relief.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him, noting that his complexion had looked possibly worse than before.

“I’m feeling okay.” He looked at you, his eyebrows scrunching, then a small smile came to his lips. You stopped in your tracks, if Azriel was smiling at you, there definitely was something wrong. “I feel a little funny….I think there was something in those arrows.”

You nodded, coming over and handing the cold pack to him. He nodded and placed it against his wing, wincing at the cold. “You really confuse me, Y/N.” He admitted, his shadows seemed as lethargic as him as they swirled around you. “I can’t figure out who you are- I just see so many different things and it’s not adding up.

“Who do you see?” You whispered, and he shook his head, somewhat confused. “You can tell me.”

“You act like you are kind, and at first I thought it was for show, but you seem to be kind even when nobody knows it’s you.” He explains, his voice somewhat slurring. “You pay attention, you leave out books you know Feyre will like, you leave out Mor’s favorite snacks when she doesn’t even like you.”

“And I’ve watched you train with Cassian; you refuse to throw a punch even when he’s wide open. Even- even with that guy outside who was going to kill you- you refused to hurt him, and you cried when he died.” Azriel looked at you, without hatred, for the first time. “How can someone who killed so many people, who tortured others and laughed as their families mourn, cry over a stranger? There is something you’re not telling me. Rhys and Cassian can see it, what are you not telling me? I want so badly to be on your side, please, tell me, who are you? ”

You felt tears fall down your face, because he’s only saying this because he was drugged. “Azriel, I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again.” You whispered, “I’m different than I was under the mountain.”

Azriel nodded, head leaning back as he winced in pain. You grabbed his hand, not asking for permission, and pulled away his pain. You thought of your family, your last memories with them. Your mother, father and two brothers sitting at the table. Your brothers throwing food at each other whenever your parents weren’t looking, trying to get it into each other’s mouths, and trying to hide your laughter so your parents wouldn’t notice. You could feel him sigh in relief and fall unconscious. You sighed in relief, playing the memory again in your head, missing who you were 50 years ago.

You woke up with a gasp, the pain from Azriel’s injuries tearing through your back. How did he deal with this much pain without even showing it? You snuck outside past Azriel’s sleeping form, and grabbed some snow into the pack that you had used for Azriel, hoping the cold would help your back.

After shoveling some of the snow into the pack, you felt a presence behind you and looked up, seeing Azriel in the doorway. “Are you feeling bet-“

“What did you do to me?” Azriel growled, walking down the three steps to confront you in the snow. “Who were those people? What did you do?”

“You were poisoned Azriel, I just…I gave you some snow to cool you down and tried to get rid of the infection.” You looked up at him, trying to find the man who you had spoken to so truthfully a few hours before. “You were a little confused, which is expected.”

He shook his head, “who was that family? Is that another family you killed?” he spat, and you froze in place. You didn’t realize that you had shown him that. “Forgot I asked. Don’t ever touch me again. Get back in here so I don’t have to protect your ass if someone else comes around to kill us.”

You nodded, leaving the pack in the snow and making your way back up to the cabin. You could feel the chills start but could feel how physically hot your body felt. You laid down on the floor, where you were previously right next to the fire. Azriel stood next to the door, watching you intently like you might try to run away.

“Are you alright? You’re shaking.” Azriel stated, and you nodded. He walked over to you, hesitating then placing his hand on your forehead for a brief second. “Y/N, you’re burning up. We need to take off some of these layers.”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to argue as Azriel ripped off your leathers, freezing at what he saw. He turned you over, but you were pale and nearly unconscious. You could hazily see a hint of worry on his face as you passed out.

--------

The flight back was torturous, the pain had started shortly after you woke up, and with each pound of Azriel’s wings another wave of pain went through you. You noticed that for the first time, you were warm and Azriel kept you close to his chest. You could feel how slow your heart rate was, and the growing pain made your realize that maybe this trip would be the end for you.

“Hey Azzie” You whispered, looking up at him. He was truly so beautiful, especially with he early morning sunrise reflecting off his features and the small beads of sweat. “Are you hurting at all?”

“No Y/N, I’m fine.” He stated, looking down at you confused. “Azzie? Where is this coming from?”

“I think Azzie would be a fun nickname.” You laughed before groaning in pain. “I just wanted to tell you something really important.”

“And what is that?” He looked down at you, if you looked like how you felt, then you could understand the growing concern in your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? We could have left last night.”

“I don’t want to argue, please.” You whispered, trying to get closer to him. You felt cold and hot at the same time. “Those people I showed you- I did kill them in a way.” His arms stiffened but you continued. “That was my last good memory before I…. became a murderer. I didn’t protect them, I left and they came and attacked and I was the only one brought under the mountain.” The pain in your chest matched the pain in your back. “I couldn’t take away their pain, I couldn’t hold them as they died, I will never forgive myself.”

“You can’t save everyone,” Azriel whispered, you sighed and closed your eyes again, listening to the thumping of his wings. “Why didn’t you just use the antidote on yourself too, I could have handled it.”

“I can’t use it on me.” You whispered, before falling back unconscious.

---------------------------

“I need help in here!” Azriel’s voice boomed, causing you to stir and groan from your position in his arms. “Rhysand!”

You heard thumping and were placed on a soft surface; you felt a warm hand against your cheek and found yourself leaning into it. Then the pain started, and you felt yourself writhe as the poison worked its way through your back.

“I’m not sure what happened, one minute she was fine.” You heard Azriel say in a panicked voice, “then she’s shaking from the cold, no matter how hot I turned up the fire. She has a fever and has been delirious for the past two hours of the flight, talking about forgiveness and you and Cassian knowing the truth. What is going on Rhys?”

You could feel a set of hands on your back and you screamed in pain as they tried to flip you over. “Don’t do that! You’re hurting her!” You heard a voice yell, and you tried to keep your mouth shut to prevent any more noises from escaping.

“High lord, I’m going to need to him out of here if he can’t control himself.” You heard the women say, you recognized her voice, was that the healer?

“Azriel, what else happened?” Rhys voice asked, you realized that you couldn’t open your eyes, but you weren’t in as much pain, Rhys must be doing something to you.

“We were attacked on the way back; I took three arrows to the wing but she didn’t say anything. Hell, I didn’t even see an arrow go towards her.” You could hear, maybe it was worry, in his voice. “Then she healed me somehow, but she didn’t heal herself. She couldn’t tell me why.” You felt a hand grab yours, and from the ridges of skin there could tell it was Azriel.

“Please, help her.” You heard him whisper.

“Madja, Y/N an absorber healer, she’s been poisoned.” Rhys instructs; you hear a gasp from the healer.

“By the cauldrons, I have never met one before, they are so rare.” You hear her say.

Despite Rhys’s efforts, you feel another wave of pain shoot down your back, but you keep your mouth closed to avoid screaming. “Azriel- get out.” Rhys shouted, and you tried to shake your head in objection. You need Azriel, you gripped his hand tighter, or tried to in your half-conscious state.

You felt your shirt rip open, and then your hand was released, and steps were taken away from you. “Rhys- what are those- why does she have all those scars on her back?”

“She can explain when she wakes up.”

------------------

You woke up with a start, a scream on your lips. “Y/N, you’re okay.” A voice said, and you felt two hands rest on your shoulders. You snapped your head to see, Azriel? You looked around, you were in your room, but a chair had been pulled up next to the bed.

“How long…”

“3 days.” Azriel stated, settling back down into the chair.

You nodded, “and…why are you in my room?” You looked around, cautiously looking back at him. He looked…incredulous.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe I’m just making sure you wake up.” Azriel cocked his head to the side, anger filling his eyes. “Why would you do that Y/N? I would have been perfectly fine, but you almost got yourself killed, you had no right to do that to yourself on my behalf!”

“It’s not like I can help it!” Your voice was hoarse, and you winced at the scratchiness In your throat. He grabbed a cup of water for you on the nightstand, and you drank almost the whole thing. “Azriel- can I be honest?”

“Please do, I need a good explanation.” He retorted, sarcasm lacing his tone. His shadows were surrounding you, but seemed almost- relieved.

“I can’t watch people in pain.” You whispered, “Watching you in pain killed me inside, and even though you hate and can’t stand to be around me, I couldn’t just watch you go through that.”

“I did hate you.” Azriel says, grabbing your hand. “How else was I supposed to feel? You had killed people I knew, people with families, tortured for fun and acted like you enjoyed it. Hell- I think the whole court hated you.”

You looked down, nodding, tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Y/n.” You looked up, locking eyes with Azriel, “I was such an idiot, the signs were there, and you’re a terrible liar. When I saw the scars on your back, I – I lost my shit. Literally. I don’t Madja is going to let me anywhere near the healing quarters anytime soon.”

“I was just trying to help people the only way I knew how.” You whispered, a tear spilling. He nodded, reaching up and cupping your face.

“I feel like a monster too, I’ve killed and tortured, but I’ve always done it in the name of our court.” He exhaled shakily, giving you a small smile. “But you are kind, and I have just been so frustrated over the past couple of months because I wanted to hate you so much- but couldn’t bring myself to. Watching you laugh with Cassian and Feyre, I felt so helpless like you could never open up to me like that. I literally couldn’t even be in the same room as you, because I felt so…jealous for no reason.”

“Rhys- when he told me about us going together, I was angry. Angry that he would put you in danger just for the sake of getting us to get along.” You watched anger fill his eyes, “and he almost got you killed.”

“I’m okay.” You reassured, smiling through the tears that were still falling.

“just make me a promise, okay?” Azriel released the grip on your face and grabbed your hand, fiercely. “I never want you to take my pain again, or anyones for that matter, okay? My pain is mine to bear, alone.”

You nodded, feeling some relief. “Thank you Azriel, I…this means a lot to me. I’ve been wanting to tell you everything for so long.”

“I want to hear everything,” he squeezed your hand again, and you could feel your heart flutter. “I will never let you get hurt again, and honestly…Azriel is so formal. I’m okay with Azzie….as long as its between us.”

#azriel #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic

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