#ike x y/n

[integra1127grimmreaper]

You Made Me Love You

Ike Evans Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Warning: light angst, cheating, smut, swearing

Summary: You internally battle with yourself over your love for your boss. Inspire by - Patsy Cline's - You Made Me Love You.

"There she is... Miss..." Ike's voice rang out through room as Lauren practiced coming down the stairs in preparation for her bat mitzvah.

"Daddy... stop it" Lauren moans out in annoyance.

"Alright, I'm sorry... I'll stop" Ike responds, only to do it again.

"Vera..." Lauren complains, causing Ike to chuckle when Vera swats him against the stomach.

"Alright, I'm sorry..." Ike finally ceases, stepping toward her then.

"You just- you look so beautiful... I couldn't help myself."

Smirking at his silliness, you catch the quick look he shoots you but turn your attention back to Lauren when Vera steps closer.

"Can you do it, Lo? You'll be in heels..." Vera enquires.

"And five hundred people will be watching" you comment as well.

"Heels...?" Ike remarks in astonishment.

"Five hundred people?"

"And there'll be dry ice smoke" you mention nonchalantly.

"Just, you know... curling up over your ankles."

"Really...?" Ike deadpans.

"Dried ice smoke?"

"Pink..." you smirk, causing him to roll his eyes at you.

"Well, it all sounds wonderful" Vera happily remarks.

"C'mon..." Ike scoffs.

"Pink dried ice smoke...? It's a bat mitzvah, not a beauty pageant."

"Exactly..." you smugly nod.

"It's Lo's coming of age celebration; therefore, it has to be extra special."

"As entertaining as this is..." Vera butts in giggling.

"I have to go speak with the caterers. I'll leave you two to further argue over dried ice smoke."

"We're not arguing..." Ike sighs in response.

"If you so, love" Vera giggles, patting his chest and tipping upward for a kiss.

You stood internally cringing at the scene in front of you, a fake smile plastered on your face as you pretended it wasn't bothering you. But Ike knew better, he knew how much it bothered you. No matter how huge a smile you flashed everyone around you, he would always see right through it; your eyes... your eyes were the sign that gave away your true feelings.

To everyone that saw your smile, they would believe you to be happy, yet if they had taken the time to truly look into your eyes; they would instantly see the dead look in them whenever Ike and Vera showered one another with affection around you.

"Alright" you snap out of your thoughts the minute Vera left.

"I think we should practice the father-daughter dance a bit."

Ike throughs his back with a loud groan.

"As long as I don't have to dance in pink smoke..."

"Nope" you shake your head, flashing a broad smirk.

"For you, I'll make sure it's purple instead."

Ike shoots you a warning glare, while Lauren giggles her head off at his expense.

"This song's boring..." Lauren whines halfway through the dance practice.

"Well, why don't you pick another song then" you offer.

"You ok?" Ike asks whilst Lauren was going through the music choices.

"Yeah, I'm fine" you shrug off his concern, (knowing damn well that he wasn't buying your lie), yet you continue to pretend nothing was wrong.

"Hey..." Ike grabs your hand to turn you toward fully face him yet is interrupted then by the song Lauren had chosen.

"That's not the best choice for a father-daughter dance, Lo..." you remark, turning back toward her.

"But I love Patsy Cline" Lauren protests.

"Fine" you sigh, caving into her puppy pout.

"You can listen to it finish, then back to the original chosen song."

Lauren flashes you a bright smile, a little flicker of mischief appearing in her eyes then.

"This is a beautiful song to waste. Why don't you and Dad dance to it?"

"I don't think that's a good idea..." you hastily respond.

"Aw... c'mon" Lauren whines, flashing you those puppy eyes again.

"It's fine" Ike comments, taking hold of your hand and puling you into his arms to dance.

Letting out a tense breath, you rest your right hand onto his shoulder.

"Fine."

Lauren claps in victory as Ike pulls you flushed against him; forcing you to rest your head against his chest. Finally giving up the fight, you allow your eyes to drift shut as you let the music take over.

*

You made me love you I didn't want to do it I didn't want to do it You made me want you And all the time you knew it I guess you always knew it

This song was actually quite fitting for the situation with Ike; you never had any intention of starting an affair with Ike when you started work for him a year ago, and yet you were. Six months into a heavy, passionate affair.

You tried your utmost best to fight the attraction you had for him since day one, but Ike was a determined man when he wanted something and that something had been you. As hard as you fought to never give into your desires, Ike eventually wore down your defenses and before you knew it; you were hopelessly in love him.

*

You made me happy sometimes Sometimes you made me glad But there were times, dear You made me feel so bad

Although you were at your happiest whilst in his arms with how madly you were in love him, there were times of saddest too. Those were, whenever Vera was in his arms instead of you.

They say love makes you stupid, and stupid you most definitely were, stupid enough to fall in love a married man.

*

You made me sigh for I didn't wanna tell you I didn't want to tell you I want some lovin', that's true Yes I do, indeed I do, you know I do

This was never going to work; you knew it most definitely. If only Ike could realize it too. This was nothing but a fantasy, one that would end up in heartache.

This wasn't what you wanted; you wanted his complete love, you wanted a real relationship, not sneaking around with another woman's husband. Yet as much as you craved it, you didn't have it in your heart to break it off with him.

You wanted him to make the decision of being with you, instead of Vera on his own.

*

Give me, give me, give me What I cry for You know ya got the brand o' kisses That I'd die for You know you made me love you

The song had finished yet it hadn't immediately registered in your foggy mind, not until you feel Ike lift his chin off from where it had been resting on the top of your head.

Lifting your head from his chest, you're met with the dark lust filled stare Ike usually projects whenever he wants you.

"Ahem" you take a careful step back and turn to Lauren.

"I think that's enough for today, Lo."

A bit disappointed, Lauren silently nods, shutting the record player off.

"You coming Dad?" Lauren enquires, making her way to the exit.

"You go ahead, I need to discuss some stuff with Y/N" Ike responds, causing you physically cringe whilst you pretend to be tiding up.

*

You made me sigh for I didn't want to tell you I didn't wanna tell you I want some lovin', that's true Yes I do, indeed I do, you know I do

You hear his footsteps coming closer to you, and when they stop directly behind you, yet continue to ignore them.

"Sweetheart-"

"Not now, Ike" you cut him off, continuing to tidy up in silence.

"Baby, look at me" Ike pleads.

Shutting your eyes for moment and taking a deep breath, you finally turn toward him.

"What is it, Isa-"

You're cut off by his lips harshly slamming onto yours.

"Are you insane?!" you rip your face from his grip with a soft screech, frantically scanning the room.

"Someone could have walked in and seen us."

"Don't care" Ike shrugs nonchalantly, causing you to roll your eyes with a scoff.

"Well, I do. The Atlantis is brimming with enough whores, I don't want to be add to that list."

Ike scowls at you, growling out then.

"You're not a whore."

"Says you" you snort in retort.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Ike grabs your arm, dragging you along the corridor towards the restroom.

"What the hell are you doing?!" you scowl as he shut and locked the door after dragging you inside.

"Reminding you who you belong to" Ike growls, spinning you around toward the mirror.

Head spinning from the sudden movement; you grasp hold of the counter to steady yourself, eyes making contact with Ike's lust blown ones in the mirror.

"Ike-"

"Shut up" Ike pushes you roughly down onto the counter, grabbing at the waistline of your capri pants to tug it down, along with your panties.

"You're going to shut up, stay right there and take whatever I give you."

You stared wide-eyed at the angry look on Ike's face reflecting in the mirror as he hastily undid his pants.

"Next time you think of giving me the cold shoulder, remember one thing" Ike grits out, kicking your feet apart, leaning over you then to notch the head of his cock against your entrance.

"You're mine..." he utters out, burying himself in you with one hash snap of his hips.

"Fuck Ike..." you whimper out at the sting of him stretching you out.

"What did I tell ya 'bout speaking...?" Ike bucks roughly into you in warning.

You bury you face into your hands to stifle any noise, only to have Ike pull your head back up by the hair, to look into the mirror.

"Nuh-uh..." Ike tisks as he harshly thrusted in and out of you.

"You're going to watch as I fuck you. Remind you, who you belong to. Got it."

Biting into your lip; you stared silently into the mirror at the dark scowl on Ike's face, attempting a weak nod as he fucked you like a man on a mission.

"Jesus, baby, ya feel so fuckin' good..." Ike groans out, leaning further onto your back and gripping hold of your hands that was on the counter for better perch as he pounded into you from behind.

It was impossible for you to respond, even if you had been allowed; soft whimpers being the only thing you could muster as Ike's heavy breathing and grunts sounded off against the side of your neck.

Lifting his face from your neck, Ike flashes you a boyish smile in the mirror.

"You're my girl, aren't you...?"

Bitting into your lip; you nod at him in response, a loud whimper spilling from them as you feel your oncoming climax begin to build.

"Fuck..." Ike shuts his eyes with a loud groan as your walls contract around him, egging him into going harder, deeper.

"That's it, Baby... Cum for me. Cum around my cock!"

And just like that, on his command; your orgasm hit like a freight train. Eyes shut tightly, nails digging into your palms; you cry out loudly as you clamp down hard around him.

Ike lets out an animalistic like growl, doing something he had never before done, sinking his teeth into your neck and cumming deep inside you then.

*

Give me, give me, give me What I cry for You know ya got the brand o' kisses That I'd die for You know you made me love you

"You're mine... Never letting you go..." Ike breathes heavily against your neck as you both try to steady your heart rates.

"Ike..." you murmur in a broken voice as you stare wide-eyed at both your reflections the mirror. The image of him still lying on top of your back, still buried inside you, causing panic to rise within you.

Finally lifting his head, Ike stares silently at you in the mirror for a few seconds as the possible implications of what he had done hits the both of you.

Letting out a heavy sigh; Ike lifts off from you, causing both of you to hiss out as he gently removes himself from within you.

After having redressed in silence; Ike finally breaks it by pulling you tightly into his arm.

"We'll figure it out..." he states, pressing a kiss into your hair.

"Ok..." you manage to croak out through the lump that had formed in your throat.

Pulling back a bit, Ike cups your cheek as he stared deeply into your eyes.

"I Love You."

A broad smile spreads across your lips then as you stare back at him.

"I Love You too..." 

[hattiewritesalot]

Poison

Azriel x Reader

Summary: At an event hosted by High Lord Beron, Azriel's closest friend Y/N seems to be incredibly wasted. The only problem? Azriel knows that she doesn't get drunk. Ever.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, poison, vomiting, a drunk love confession, a bit of angst but it is all in all quite fluffy

A/N: So this may or may not be inspired by the scene in Wicked King where Cardan gets poisoned... enjoy!! :3

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Y/N is, as always, on high alert as she follows Rhys into the ballroom. Something combined with her dislike for social events and her lack of trust for the High Lord of Autumn meant her eyes and ears were everywhere, keeping constant watch over everything. Azriel’s large hand gently splays over her bare back, the rough fingers a gentle reminder that he’s there, and possibly to tell her to stop being so tense. She shoots a glare at her best friend, who responds with a badly-concealed smile.

She’s dressed in black, they all are, as is custom in the Night Court. Her dress is floor length, the black satin offering a nice hold around her figure, the neckline a low plunge, and the slit on her left side allowing her some freedom. The fabric is littered with silver threads and diamonds, meant to represent constellations, and also to match the sparkly heels on her feet. She looks pretty. She feels it.

A servant welcomes them warmly, almost immediately offering the group a drink of champagne, which she takes. Cassian snorts, and teases her for taking the only glass that the poor servant had, but she rolls her eyes and takes a sip.

She rarely drinks. She doesn’t like it. She’s seen enough of the boys’ drunk shenanigans to be put off it for a lifetime. She usually stays sober, if not tipsy, whenever they go to Rita’s, opting for escorting a stumbling Rhys back to Feyre rather than being the one stumbling.

But one drink won’t hurt. Not tonight. Tonight, she’ll need it.

The Inner Circle split up around the room, Azriel hot on Y/N’s trails, scarred fingers just barely tracing her bare shoulders. She sighs, leaning against a wall, him doing the same. “Time check?”

Azriel snorts. “You’re the one with the watch.”

She clicks her tongue, and checks the time, leaning back with a groan. “Two more hours of… this.”

“Always a ray of sunshine.”

“Says the shadowsinger.” she grins. Azriel was the first person she’d met in the Inner Circle, and coincidentally, her closest friend. They’d been attached at the hip the moment she’d introduced herself. They know everything about each other, inside and out. 

She’d never admit it, but her heart longed for the Illyrian. He was always so clever, so considerate. And, not to mention, his sharp features and hazel eyes made heat rise in her cheeks; hot, blissful, lovestruck heat.

“I think Cassian wants me for something.” Azriel muses, tipping his chin towards where Cassian was very unsubtly gesturing for him to accompany him. Y/N narrows her eyes at the redhead he’s standing with, and laughs. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that were Eris Vanserra. Good luck, Az.”

Azriel groans, playfully tugging her hair as he walks over to his brother.

All alone, now. She drinks her champagne, downing it almost immediately. She liked champagne. It never got you too drunk, never made you too irrational. “Enjoying the festivities, Y/N?” Beron’s voice purrs out from behind her. She forces a smile.

“I’d say yes, but it appears I’ve run out of champagne.” The High Lord cocks a brow at her words, and offers her another glass with a different, more vibrant liquid. “Try this. It’s exclusive to the Autumn Court. I believe you’ll enjoy it, it’s not too strong.”

She eyes the glass, before taking it, taking a sip. It’s a subtle flavour - fruity, slightly bitter. “Thank you, my lord.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he walks away. 

Cauldron, this drink is good. She drinks every last drop, and places it down on the table next to her, looking for a bottle of the same-

Oh. Oh. This is fun. Fun, fun, fun!

Why isn’t she having fun! Tonight is amazing!

An uncontrollable giggle tears from her throat, the sound throwing her off slightly as wave after wave of lucid dizziness hit her. She laughs, clutching her chest. This is so fun!

Where’s Azriel? Is he having fun? Oh, she loves him. Loves him so much. Where is he!?

-----------------------------------------------------------

Azriel cracks his neck, obviously not wanting to engage with the eldest son of the High Lord, who clearly would rather be anywhere else. Cassian is long gone, with the excuse of seeing Nesta, and now Azriel has been left to deal with Eris. This could not get any worse.

Until it does.

Y/N beams at him, tripping over her feet to get to him, stumbling as she slumps into his arms, snorting and giggling. He freezes. Eris chokes on a laugh. Her hands reach up to grab his face and tug at his hair.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, taken slightly off-guard by her strange behaviours.

“Azzy!” she squeals, laughing and kissing his cheek. Eris cocks a brow. “Looks like your little Y/N’s had too much to drink.” His words echo around Azriel’s head. No, that can’t be. Y/N doesn’t like drinking. And why would she get drunk here of all places? And why-

His heart sinks. Her pupils are dilated. Her body is trembling. Her skin is turning clammy. 

This isn’t alcohol. It’s poison. 

His eyes go wide as he pulls her form into his arms. “Y/N?” he mumbles, a little firmer now. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, silly!” she squeals. Eris laughs again, and Azriel’s head whips towards him. “What the fuck did you do to her!?” The eldest son’s eyes widen at his harsh, almost growling tone. 

“Me? I’ve done nothing. She’s just drunk, shadowsinger.” He sneers at him down his pointy nose. Azriel clutches Y/N closer, ignoring all of her babbles as she squishes his cheeks and tugs his dark locks like a child. 

“I love you!” she squeals. “I love you sooooo much. So much. I wish we were mates.” she slurs. Azriel takes a shaky breath at her words, and Eris gestures to her flailing form. “See? Drunk.”

“She’s not- she’s not drunk, she’s- fuck, where’s Rhys?” His tone is desperate as he searches for the High Lord. Y/N’s knees start to buckle, but he wraps her arms around her thighs. “Stay with me, sweetheart, you’re gonna be okay.” He manages to catch the attention of Rhys, whose eyes go wide at the sight of Y/N’s slumped form, and he rushes to them. “What-”

“She’s been poisoned.” Azriel chokes out, panic surging in his veins as he hugs his girl as tightly as he can to his chest. “We- we need to get her out.” Rhys takes a breath, and seems to send a message to Feyre, because she starts to round everyone up. “She’ll be okay, Az, just calm down-”

“I’m not going to calm down! She could die!” He snaps. Rhys backs off at the protective gaze in his brother’s eyes. “Get her back to the Night Court, I’ll sort out here.” Azriel hooks one arm under her knees and the other on her back as he closes his eyes, winnowing back to Velaris. 

She squirms, shoving herself onto the cold floor of the Moonstone Palace, and she pukes, gasping and gagging. He shushes her gently, his shadows swirling around her and stroking her hair back as she retches. “It’s okay, you’re okay. Get it all out.”

As she vomits, his mind can’t help but flick back to what she said in the Autumn Court. ‘I love you!’ ‘I wish we were mates.’ His heart flutters at the recollection, but he silently growls at it to shut up. She’s been poisoned. Her head isn’t right. She was probably just saying words for the fun of it. She doesn’t mean it. She doesn’t mean it.

But still…

No, heart, stop it.

He pulls her up against his chest when she’s finished, gently rubbing her back. She sobs, slurring unintelligible words. He kisses her sweaty temple and carefully carries her up to her room, murmuring sweet nothings to keep her calm, but her body thrashes. Her eyes are rolling back. His hands are shaking. 

He just about manages to get her writhing form onto the bed when Rhys arrives, Madja hot on his trails. “She’s been poisoned?” she asks. Y/N screams in response. Rhys winces at the noise, but the expression worsens at the fury on Azriel’s face.

“Azriel-”

“Go on.” He growls. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t storm back in there and kill them all.”

“Because first of all, that’ll be a lot of paperwork for me, and second of all, I don’t think Y/N wants you to leave.”

Rhys is, frustratingly, right. Y/N has taken it upon herself to latch onto Azriel’s arm, clutching him and mumbling profusely, cheek squished against his bicep. He sighs, and gently pats her hair, shooting a glare to the High Lord of Night in the process.

He sits with her the entire time Madja treats her, his fingers tightly intertwined with hers. The healer concludes that she’ll be okay, but not without side-effects. She says he was clever to get her home so quickly. It wasn’t out of intelligence, it was out of fear.

She gives Y/N a sleeping draught, just so her aching body can get some rest, and then she leaves. Azriel stares at his best friend’s face, and figures he should do the same. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead, smiles at her fluttering eyes, and moves to leave.

Standing in the doorway, however, his eyes flit back to hers, the hazel of his irises connecting with her soft hues.

And then he feels it.

Like a string pulled taut, it snaps within his chest, flooding his veins with the pure bliss of finally having something to protect, to care for, to love. It roars throughout his body, his heart burning with the golden flames of the bond.

Mate.

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PART TWO HERE!!

lol hmu I write for acotar now

[6ronze]

TATTOOIST?

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ — l&ds character : sylus format : short scenarios/HC warnings : nsfw. mdni. clothed fingering. orgasm denial. some inaccurate terms probably. fem!reader. reader already has some other tattoos on her. long story short : tattooist!sylus thoughts notes : sylus is a normal man here so no wanderers, no Onychinus, only Linkon City

tattooist!sylus that would start picking up doing tattoos because of a friend that was short on workers. He never had any interest in the art but became good at it anyway due to his undeniably stable and skilled hands. tattooist!sylus who would come in early to set up the place to his liking—all the equipment, the furniture, he would readjust it all until the friend who recruited him would wonder who really owned the place.

tattooist!sylus that would wouldn’t bother greeting the customers, merely paying them an acknowledging look before asking what type of tattoo they wanted on them. If it was an intricate design, he wouldn’t shy away from being their artist since he trusted himself more enough for the task.

tattooist!sylus that would lead you in to a room with a portable bed shifted to a chair after seeing the design you wanted on your lower back. All the while you sat on it facing the backrest, lifting your shirt up above your stomach. As you shifted on the seat comfortably, tattooist!sylus was getting ready the needles and tattoo gun, putting on his gloves and subtly stealing glances your laid up body, appreciating the curve of your ass that was enough to steal his attention for longer than intended.

tattooist!sylus that sits on a separate stool facing your back, prepping your skin before starting to draw on your delicate skin. Usually with his stable hand, he didn’t need more than a hand and the other to wipe the excess ink—but this time, he decided to put his free hand to use.

tattooist!sylus that would place his left hand on your hip while the other continued to draw on your skin, the texture of the black latex glove on your skin making you shift your head slightly. You could feel it, his fingers running over your stomach and his thumb gently pressing your back. His hold on your hip along with the subtle stinging pain of the needle puncturing your skin rapidly made you confused on which sensation to focus on, making you confused if the subtle rub your thighs were because of the friction of grinding against the bed, or if it was because of his hand that kept moving from your hips, to your thighs, then ultimately to the curve of your back.

tattooist!sylus that would start small talk between the process of tattooing you, only knowing how to start it by teasing the other tattoos he sees on your body. tattooist!sylus that would subtly flirt with you, not hiding how he wants to get in your panties by briefly hooking his gloved finger over the waistband on your pants, his crimson eyes gleaming at the sight of your panties.

tattooist!sylus that would ask if you liked the pain, or the numbness. He didn’t mention the specifics, didn’t mention what caused pain, only if you liked pain.

tattooist!sylus that would wrap your freshly made tattoo on your lower back and utter a praise in a low voice, his hands moving to hold each side of your hips, calling you a good girl for taking all that pain without as much as a whine—though he had to mention he didn’t miss the way your back arched when his needled pierced certain areas of your skin.

tattooist!sylus that would lean in close to you, asking why you haven’t any effort to move and get off the bed even when he was done with you. He would dismiss your reasoning to blame him for trapping you. tattooist!sylus that would start kissing up your spine, his tongue poking out to taste your skin along your other tattoos scattered on your back until he reached your lifted shirt, his hands moving to take off the gloves and start slithering them around your body, his fingers skimming over your stomach until they reached your tits, cupping them in his big hands to fondle and tease you about them.

tattooist!sylus that would make you press up against the backrest of the bed further until you had your ass spread and on display for him, your pants running lower due to your parted legs. tattooist!sylus that shift closer to you, hands now sliding downwards to cup your the flesh of your ass, whispering to you about how soft you felt in his hand, and cruelly chuckling underneath his breath when he saw how much it affected you.

“Don’t tell me that was all it took to get you riled up, pretty girl?” would be what he would say when he noticed how your thighs twitched in response to his touches. He’d lean in by your ear to tell you all about how you felt in his hand as he moved it lower until he cupped your cunt, his middle finger sliding over your folds to rub your slit, and find your clit too. If he did, he’d keep his crimson eyes fixated on you the entire time, his bigger frame looming from behind you, making you hyper-aware of his presence that was both intimidating and intoxicating.

“Let’s see what kind of noise you make when I..” he would trail off by your earlobe before pressing his finger up your clothed cunt, loving how the fabric stopped him from truly penetrating you but lenient enough to give you a taste of it. He revelled in the sight of your parted lips that quickly closed after exhaling that sexy moan between your breaths.

tattooist!sylus that would keep teasing your damp pussy until your fluids made his fingers wet, refusing to give you permission to move from your position despite your complaints about your numbing legs. He would just dismiss it in a laugh, praising you in satisfaction and wanting to keep on making a mess out of you with his fingers to make your legs weaker—since it gave you the side effects that made you feel like he was fucking you even if he wasn’t.

tattooist!sylus that would never let you cum even when your sobbing and clawing onto the bed, mumbling out whatever excuse that came at the top of your now mushed mind. Other customers could walk in on them, a colleague of his would catch them—all of those excuses fell to deaf ears. To him and his hardened cock, the only thing that had his care and attention at the moment was you—and your fluttering heat that couldn’t stop clenching around the tips of his fingers, begging, pleading him to pull your pants down and penetrate you properly. But he won’t do it—you haven’t earned it yet.

[wandaslittleweirdo]

Liar

part 1: precious || masterlist

⋆⋆౨ৎ pairing: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢!𝚐𝚏!𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 ༝༝ 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: The truth always comes to light, even if the liar has done everything in their power to try and keep you from it.

warnings: dubcon, smut, mind control, top!wanda, manipulation/gaslighting, drama tehe, strap usage (R recieving), voyeurism, strap blowjob (W recieving), reader sucks wandas fingers (can you tell I have insane oral fixation?), pet names, small mix of praise kink and degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, strap referred to as dick, Stockholm syndrome, age gap > r is 20 w is 32

A/N: this is absolute filth. but fics r all about imagination and having fun, no one will ever stop me from sharing my disgusting thoughts with the internet

+

this is a dark fic. 18+. wlw. men & minors dni!

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

It’s been two months since the night of your abduction. You’ve been staying with Wanda and have never been happier.

You remember the day you woke up in her cabin. You were frightened and confused, but she was patient and her peaceful nature soothed you. She carefully explained everything, why you were in her cabin, why you could barely walk, and why you had that cut on your cheek.

You were attacked and chased into the woods. She was your knight and shining armour who had found you laying unconscious in the crunchy autumn leaves while she was hunting. You also vividly recall saying you’d do anything to show how thankful you are, her lips pulling into a big goofy smile.

“Anything, you say?”

And it all just went up from there.

The thought of your life before Wanda never crossed your mind. She always kept you on your toes. One day you’re hiking up mountains with her and the next she’s teaching you how to shoot her shotgun.

“Bam! You got all of the targets first try! That was incredible, Y/N.”

But you didn’t need shooting a gun or slumping your way up mountains to feel like you’re on your toes. Cooking dinner together, watching new shows, going to sleep tangled in each others arms or swimming in the nearby waterfall was just as invigorating, because she made it so.

Wanda took you in and loved you. She feeds you, she shelters you, she protects you. She makes you feel safe and treats you like a princess.

Throughout your bliss, there was only one thing that constantly bothered you. A frustrated thought you kept trying to shove away, but would always float back at some point.

You weren’t allowed to leave the cabin.

Of course, the hunting and the walks were okay, but you could never see what was going on outside of the woods unless it was through the news or Wanda herself. You couldn’t step foot out of the house without Wanda following close behind. When you really acknowledge it, you describe the feeling as if you’re on display, constantly being spied on and never having the privacy every human craves.

Whenever you bring up the fact that she watches you or follows you at seemingly unnecessary times, she explains that it would be rude if you told her she’s being invasive when she’s just protecting you.

She also claims everything outside of the woods is disgusting and you aren’t missing out. She says people are cold and heartless, nothing but a bunch of soul dead blobs walking in their black and white reality everyday.

But in the most peaceful moments, like right now where your arms are wrapped around her torso and your legs tied around one of hers, imitating the position of a clingy koala, everything else doesn’t seem to matter. She gently rakes her hand through your hair and randomly pinches your cheeks, but both sets of eyes remain on the TV.

“You’re lucky, Y/N. We have so much fun together, no one ever goes out and does things anymore! Trust me. Nothing out there is as good as what’s here.”

You reminisce the conversation you had with her the other day, your heart warming as her persuasive words echo through your mind.

Wanda’s right. This is good… I don’t need anyone but her.

“Sweetheart, I have to go to the store. We don’t have any milk or bread.” She taps the top of your head gently, silently asking you to sit up but you only whine and clutch onto her harder. You rub your nose into her soft v neck sweater, feeling her stomach tense as she lets out a dry laugh. “Come on, angel. I’m just getting milk I’ll be home before you know it.”

“That’s what my dad said.” You murmur into the wool. She gasps playfully at your humour, a tiny smile on her lips as she flicked the back of your head in an act to scold you. “Don’t joke about stuff like that miss!”

“No! It’s how I cope.” You rub the back of your head and pout at her, reluctantly sitting up onto your knees while an unhappy crease sits itself between your brows. Her smile widens as she gazes at you, nothing but adoration swimming in those viridescent irises.

She pushes your dishevelled hair out of your face and leans in slowly, eyes fixated on your lips. Her kiss is as gentle as ever, her fingers curling around the back of your neck to pull you closer. Every complaint you were ready to throw at her suddenly slips your mind, and all you can think about is how soft her lips feel moving against yours. The hair framing her face smells of her green apple shampoo, a specific something you grew to obsess over.

“Oookay, have to go now.” She pulls back and swiftly puts herself on her feet. She happily escorts herself over to the door to grab her coat and slip her shoes on, the cocky smile never leaving her face.

You fall face forward into the couch while making various irritated and disapproving grumbles. She slides her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, her smile distorting into a sort of impish grin when she specifically hears the words,

“You’re evil, Wanda.”

“Maybe, but you love it.” She laughs softly before slinging her purse over her shoulder and opening the door.

“See you soon, princezná!” You huff at the sound of the door shutting followed by the click of the lock. You could continue to watch a movie… or you could go into your girlfriends closet and steal her clothes.

Excitement starts brewing inside of you as you spring up from the couch and run into your shared bedroom. You yank the closet door open, taking the sleeve of one of her hoodies and rubbing your face into it. The faint smell of sandalwood and a sweet-spicy cinnamon still lingers on it, and now all you can think of is drowning yourself in the mouth watering autumn scent.

You pluck out a red flannel shirt and a dark blue pair of jeans. But as you flip through her many pieces of clothing, a cardboard box in the corner of her top shelf catches your eye. You frown and push yourself onto your tippy toes, groaning and stretching your limbs until you could finally grasp the package.

The box is covered in a thin layer of dust indicating it hasn’t been touched in a while. You giggle excitedly, box in hand as you run over to your shared bed and make yourself comfortable.

We tell each other everything, she must have some dirty secrets in here..

You place your hand on the lid of the laptop, prepared to open it until a sting of guilt stops you. Your excitement fades into adrenaline as you nervously tap your foot against the carpeted floor.

She’ll tell me about this eventually, right?

But she’s had so many opportunities to say something…

Fuck it.

A puzzled expression takes over your features seeing the computer had only nine screens open. They’re all at least 360p, tv static glitching out a video every five or so seconds. Then you notice where the cameras were pointing too. One in Wanda’s room, one covering the area of her living room, one facing towards the kitchen and the others scattered around outside.

Security cameras?

Your eyes flicker to the red circle flashing in the top left corner of the screen, the capital letters “LIVE” typed in next to it. Then, just below that, an even smaller text with todays date. You click it and a list of options pop up, scrolling down and seeing she installed them in 2015.

You excitedly flip back to two months ago, the day you and Wanda met. You can watch your love unfold all over again but now from a different perspective.

You giddily scrub through the timeline and watch yourself wander around outside, then fast forwarding again until Wanda walks to the door and opens it to you. Your brows pinch together; you don’t seem hurt at all and you’re clearly not unconscious. In fact, you seem wary of her.

Your curiosity heightens as you quietly observe yourself take a seat on her couch and sit there, tapping your lap awkwardly. You skip further ahead and stop when you see Wanda jump onto you. Your hand flies over your mouth, the sickening realisation starting to dawn on you.

She lied to me…

How did I forget everything?

You drag the little dot further through the video, your heart thudding in your ears. A red glow in the darkness of her room causes the frown on your face to deepen and you to scroll back.

You almost forget how to breathe when you see red wisps escape the fingertips of your beloved girlfriend, the red seeping it’s way through the side of your forehead and infecting your unconscious mind.

She does this continuously for minutes, destroying every thought in your head. Your opinions, beliefs and judgments so she can start off with a clean canvas. Everything from your old life comes rushing back, your memories flashing at you like big bright billboards on 2x speed.

Your childhood, your parents divorcing, your bullies in high school and more specifically— the night you met Wanda. Surrounded by tall, thin, white bark trees as the echo of your own voice called after something or someone named Daisy. The disorientation and utter sadness you felt wandering aimlessly. The anxiety you felt in the pit of your stomach while walking up to Wanda’s cabin. Everything that happened that night, including her handing you the drink to then ordering you to put it down.

Clover-

Frankie?

Daisy…

Wanda.

“Y/N! I’m back!” You gasp, quickly blinking away the tears that rimmed your eyes. You slam the computer shut and shove it in its box, clumsily dropping the lid back on and running to put it back into her closet.

You just shut the door when Wanda’s voice startles you from the doorway.

“You okay honey? You look shaken.” You take a step back when she advances, almost like a reflex or a flinch, and it does not go unnoticed by her. She squints ever so slightly, her head tipping to the side.

I don’t know this woman. I need to leave. Now.

“Yeah I’m okay I just.. stubbed my toe.” She tuts, walking over to you and snakes her arms around your waist. “Aww, my poor baby. I bought strawberries though, will that cheer you up?” She whispers into your head and you melt, fingers twitching against the material of her soft coat.

My Wanda..

“T-Thank you, Wands.” This is Wanda. The loving, beautiful and generous Wanda you fell for. But she erased your whole life so she could cage you and keep you for herself.

Don’t get swayed by strawberries! Focus!

She whispers a sweet I love you before kissing your head and turning around. She picks up a thick knitted cardigan laying on the bed and throws it to you. “It’s cold, put this on and I’ll go light a fire.”

She waltzes out of the door and down the short hallway, leaving you a big, confused ball of nerves.

~

Wanda switches on the TV and invites you to sit next to her. You don’t say anything and accept, seating yourself by her no matter how on edge you feel because Wanda knows you. She can tell when you’re hiding something, and if you don’t want to sit next to her after begging her to stay home, something is obviously wrong.

Wanda watches the movie like she normally would. Laughing here and there, playing with your hair or placing a friendly hand on your thigh. You on the other hand have no idea what’s happening in the movie because your mind is racing with thoughts on what you should be doing.

Do I confront her? Do I run away? Do I stay and act like I don’t know anything?

“Hey Wands?” You say without thinking, immediately regretting your words and curse at yourself for acting so impulsively. She hums, eyes still focused on the tv.

“If I asked you a question… would you answer truthfully?”

“Of course, I always do.” She answers, her voice soft with a hint of worry as she pointed the remote at the television to shut it off. You want to believe her over what your own eyes saw, you wish you had never touched or opened that box. Everything would’ve stayed perfect. But sadly, you have to accept the fact that it was never perfect. You were played and life isn’t the paradise she pretended it was.

“I… I found the laptop.” You unwravel yourself from her hold so you can sit up and face her. Your mind so caught up on the anxiety rumbling around in your stomach, you miss the faint crimson flash behind her irises and the tiny tense of her shoulders.

“What laptop?”

“The one hooked up to the security cameras.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, love.” She chuckled, shifting uncomfortably as she shook her head and avoided your frantic stare. You bite the inside of your cheek, gently taking her hand between yours and softening your tone of voice. The last thing you want to do is make her upset or start an argument.

“Okay, then just answer this… What happened the night we met?”

“I told you, I saved you-“

“No Wanda. What. happened?” You enunciate your last words, voice trembling as you desperately cling onto the hope that she’ll tell you what happened and explain why she lied. This is her chance to admit to everything, but she doesn’t take it.

“I’m telling you the truth, Y/N. Why are you questioning me?” You feel burning tears sit behind your eyes and your lips quivers, your patience worn into a thread as you pinch your temple.

This is the woman you love and trust most in the world, it breaks your heart that the foundation of your relationship was built on lies and manipulation. It breaks your heart even more so knowing that the Wanda you thought you knew could just be a fake persona, anything feels possible right now.

“I told you, I found the laptop and saw the security cameras. I know what actually happened.” She lets out a small laugh, your expression changing to one of disbelief watching her shrug as if what she did isn’t that bad.

“Okay… well it’s not a big deal-“

“You made me forget my entire life! I’m scared, Wanda. You lied to me. I want to know who I am, not who you want me to be!” You lose the composure you were holding on to, standing up and throwing your hands around.

She clenches her jaw when you yell these words at her, her nostrils flaring and her eyes poisoned with an ironclad rage. She slowly stands to her feet and you internally kick yourself—regretting how you spoke to her as she looms over you. Her tightened jaw and her slit pupils reminded you of a snake ready to attack, pointing a finger in your face before she speaks her next words.

“You came to me for help. And I helped you. I treat you like a fucking queen and that’s how you speak to me?” Shes not yelling, her voice is quiet but created purely of anger and disappointment. Honestly, you’d prefer yelling.

“But Wanda.. that’s not fair-“

“Don’t you talk to me about what’s fair. I’ve done everything possible to make sure you’re happy and now you’re scared of me?” Tears well your eyes as you stare at her, the salty drops blurring your vision and rolling down your face every time you blink. That familiar lump gets caught in your throat, forcing whatever you wanted to say right back down. You’ve never seen her so furious, and you never expected to be the reason for her to be.

“I know the life you lived before me. You lived alone with two bunnies, you hate your family, worked as a waitress and had one friend. You know I treat you better than anyone else ever has.” Your eyes dart to the floor, shame swelling inside of you.

Wanda makes me happy, why did I ruin it all?

“But if you’re going to talk to me like that after I’ve taken such good care of you, I guess there’s no point in being nice.” Your eyes fly up at her again, hoping to see some sort of playfulness in her expression. No matter how hard you searched there wasn’t a hint of that gentle gaze she always had for you.

“Get on your knees, Y/N.”

“What-“

“On your fucking. Knees.”

You let out a shaky breath before slowly sinking down to your knees. Your eyes stay stuck to your fidgeting fingers, anxiously waiting for her next orders. “You’re so pretty, it’s a shame you act like such a spoiled little brat.” She unbuttons her jeans and tugs down at the zip, pulling out a large red strap she hid inside of the denim.

“Open.” You hesitate before taking it into your hand, eyes looking up at her nervously before sticking your tongue out and teasing it. You take the tip into your mouth, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks around it, eyes begging for some type of approval. Her mouth opens slightly, quiet pants escaping her as she watches the end of the strap disappear into your mouth repeatedly.

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, impatiently pushing her hips forward and forcing the rest of the length into your mouth. “You can’t act all tough with a dick in your mouth, can you?” She sneers. You feel her touch the back of your throat, the faux cock weighing heavy on your tongue as you gagged around it. You claw at her hips and pull at her sweater, but she doesn’t budge.

“Breathe out of your nose, baby.” You do as you’re told, breathing in through your nose while drool dripped down your chin. She picks up your loose hair with her hand and gathers it behind your head, using it as leverage to move your head however she pleases.

“I want you to touch yourself, touch yourself for me please…” She whimpered. Her hips start to move, pumping the toy into your mouth at a merciful pace. Your spit falls from your lips to the carpet underneath you as you slowly remove one of your hands from her to push into your shorts, not wasting a second before thrusting two fingers into yourself.

You moan around the strap while she forces your head back and forth by your hair and snaps her hips harder, breath hitching at the sight of you grinding your hips against your own hand.

She rams into your mouth, hot, breathless praises falling from her lips and raining down onto you. The material of the toy rubs perfectly against her clit, both of you impatiently chasing your highs with increasingly fast and sloppy movements. You feel your walls clench and as you curl your fingers, you notice her thighs start to shake.

“Fuck! Cum with me… let go, sweet girl.”

Her string of moans flow smoothly throughout her silent cabin as she bucked her hips up and further into your mouth. Your juices spill into your hand, your bodies pulsing and sweaty. She squeezes her eyes shut as hot-white pleasure surges through her, and you do the exact same, clenching your thighs together as your eyelids flutter.

She pulls out and you take a deep breath in, your chest heaving and head spinning because of the lack of oxygen. She watches you withdraw your hand from your shorts and your cheeks fade to a hot pink seeing your fingers coated in the sticky cum.

She takes your clean hand and guides you to lay on the couch. You melt into the soft sofa, legs twitching and your eyes shut. You weakly mumble protests when you feel her climb on top of you and immediately starts tugging at your shorts, pulling them down your legs and throwing them to the side. She moves her hand and massages your pussy, eagerly listening to all of your icky sounds. You squirm and try jerking away from her, but her hand pins your hips back down to the couch, forcing you to endure the intensity of her touch.

“Wands, I’m tired..” She smiles, your voice low and husked from your sore throat.

“Don’t you hear that, baby? You’re so wet for me, even when I’m mean to you.” She shushes your begging while using her hand to move your sticky panties out of the way. She lines herself up to your hole, slowly pushing inside and doesn’t wait before picking up her speed.

“You’re so tight..” You sob, feeling smothered and hot from her hands groping at you, her body like a chunk of burning coal hovering above you. She wipes some of your cum from your fingers with her own, then moving them towards your mouth and sliding them in. She exhales shakily and her hips stutter when you swirl your tongue around her fingertips, opening your eyes the slightest bit so you can catch her reaction.

“God, you’re so good like that…” She slams into you harder, adoring the whines that would muffle because of your stuffed mouth. She feels your walls clench around the strap again and her lips stretch into a smug smirk.

“Aww gotta cum already? You wanna make a mess all over my strap, baby? Yeah?” Her voice hitches higher, patronising you in a way she knew you loved.

She takes it all in. Your tits bouncing underneath your shirt from her thrusts and your hardened nipples peeking through. Your flushed cheeks. The sweat glistening off of your forehead and your inner brows perked upwards. You could only moan an answer to her question, legs writhing and eyes glazed over as you stare at her in your euphoric haze.

Then it hits you, the feeling that you’d describe as tasting a slice of heaven and hell at the same time. Your back arches and your muscles tighten. You gasp and pathetically attempt to kick at her when she starts to toy with your sensitive clit, but cease your actions when she shoves her fingers further into your throat as a silent warning.

The last thing you remember before slowly drifting off into your long awaited slumber, is Wanda’s hands running down your sides, the top of her head and your stomach flexing as she kissed her way down your stomach.

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

taglist: @wandasfavv @sokovianbaby @hopelesslygaysstuff @ghxst-guts @maximoffsgirl @mrsmothermaximoff @themilfsland @slutm3out @immclovinmilfs @kimiisims-blog @halsnaksns

[boigyu]

idol au where you have heeseung as your phone wallpaper and accidentally show it on live

[moremaybank]

need to have him like this rn

[sqtorux]

hearrrr me out: zenin clan mistreated son toji with maid reader.

pretty basic right? twist is, you're the clan head's favourite, everyone's really. they can't help but look at you with favour because that's just who you are.

it's hypocritical of an old man being nicer to you than he is towards his own son but it's not like you don't enjoy the privileges that come along with it.

toji hates you for this very reason too. why are you, just a simple worker in his household more cherished than him, whose blood was of their own?

and you're always so kind to him, it makes him sick. it seems like you're rubbing it in his face. why are you treating him so kindly when his own family had not bothered to do so?

he was never nice to you, that's not his thing. he does not care about you in the slightest either.

so then why does he feel a pang in his chest when it was announced that you would be married off to another big clan? courtesy of none other than his very own father, who thinks he did you a favour by finding you someone "suitable".

fuck that shit. toji knows he doesn't deserve you, not in the least but just once; he finds himself wishing the universe to let him have you.

[leviscolwill]

adore

pairing: bsf!jude x fem!reader

summary: you adored your friendship with jude, but sometimes you wished things weren't so complicated between the two of you. [wc: 3,2k]

contents: mostly angst ??? a few cute moments here and there bc i'm fluff girly thru and thru 🤞, they can't communicate to save their life, drunk jude, a random man being annoying, jude being a dumb fuck, language, did i miss anything ?

note: this wip has been rotting in my drafts for a couple of months, i hope you enjoy it because i really enjoyed writing it 🫶

now playing adore by cashmere cat & ariana grande...

"please don't leave me y/n... you don't understand, i need you here."

"jude, i'm literally going to the toilet. i'll be back in 5 minutes, now let me go."

your best friend had always been the clingy type whenever he'd reach his alcohol limit (which was usually only after a couple of drinks). but tonight he was practically glued to your side, not that you minded, you basically spent your whole life attached by the hip. but you had to admit, it hurt a bit to see the person you couldn't have, not in the way you wanted to have him, at least, act all lovey-dovey with you.

the nature of your relationship with jude was complex, to say the least. he was your best friend since you were kids and you wouldn't change that for the world. but the way he looked at you sometimes made you yearn for something more, or whenever his touches on your shoulder or your waist would linger a bit too long to be friendly. maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, after all, the chances of jude wanting you the way you wanted him were very low, not to mention the fact you led two different lives. but it didn't matter, you could manage to live and long for him with the hope that one day you could be more than a best friend to him. and this thought was all you needed to face him and his sparkly eyes for the rest of the night.

when you got out of the bathroom, your mind was still full of thoughts of your relationship with jude running in your mind. you were so engrossed in your thoughts that you bumped into a man's chest, not really being careful about your surroundings.

"i'm sorry, i wasn't looking." you quickly apologise to him, you were already on your way to your friends before the man grabbed your wrist, quickly letting it go.

"it's okay sweetheart, can i get your name as an apology ?" you cringed at his poor attempt at flirting with you, but you weren't feeling confrontational tonight.

"i'm-"

"y/n !" jude's voice made your head turn in surprise.

"you were gone for so long i almost forgot what your beautiful face looked like." he said smashing his face on your shoulder.

"is that your boyfriend?"

"ummm, no he's my-"

"depends who's asking." jude interrupted you, side-eyeing the nameless man.

"jude. i can speak for myself." the look he gave you broke your heart a bit, his lips pouting in sadness.

"if he is not your boyfriend, i'd gladly take your number, might even take you back to my hotel room..." it was obvious to everyone around that the situation was uncomfortable for you, that familiar feeling of disgust you always got when a man was being too friendly creeping on you.

"who do you think you are?" your best friend stared at the man with a frown on his face.

"jude, let's not..." the tension between the two men was evident as people stopped to stare at whatever was happening.

"relax mate, i just wanna talk to your friend nothing more." the stranger grabbed your wrist, still looking at jude, testing him, testing how far he would go to stop this.

"let me go." you didn't have to try getting away from him because jude did it for you.

the nameless guy suddenly let you go, and seeing him hold his jaw while screaming profanities at your best friend was all you needed to understand what just happened. jude punched him, but the alcohol in his veins prevented him from dodging the punch that came straight for his eyebrow.

immediately you took jude's arm before he found another idea to mess up your night some more, and walked out of the packed club for some air. you ordered a uber for the two of you and texted your friends that you were getting home early.

even fresh air couldn't rid you of the anger that coursed through your body. of course, you were mad at the man who couldn't keep his hands to himself. but another part of you couldn't help but be pissed at jude and his impulsive behaviour. but when you looked at him and saw blood trickle down from his eyebrow, everything was suddenly forgotten and you could only worry.

"fuck you're bleeding, why didn't you tell me? fuck, fuck, fuck." you searched through your bag for a tissue, mentally cursing yourself for how messy it was, and handed one to jude.

"just didn't wanna bother you..." he mumbled, holding it to his wound.

you both waited for the uber in complete silence, you knew you needed to have a conversation with jude about what just happened but you'd do it tomorrow, when he was sober and when your judgement wouldn't be clouded by anger.

thankfully, your uber didn't take too long to arrive, you helped jude put his seatbelt on after watching him struggle with it for a good minute. the atmosphere was tense and it seemed the driver felt it so he didn't try to make conversation with any of you.

you were halfway to your destination when you felt jude's fingers brush against yours lightly. you took a glance at where your hand lay, on the middle seat, jude's hand was right next to yours and when you looked at him he was suddenly entranced by his shoes, busy pretending it never happened.

you were sick of him acting like a child, so you held his hand, since he obviously wouldn't do it himself. the rest of the drive was silent but the atmosphere was peaceful, a nice change from the club.

you let go of jude's hand once you arrived at the villa you rented with your group of friends. you immediately took jude to the bathroom to clean his cut, he looked like a child while you were gathering the material you needed, mumbling words to himself with a frown on his face.

"is it gonna hurt?"

"probably not." these were the first words you exchanged since the club, the uneasy atmosphere of the room wasn't one you were used to whenever you were with jude. he was the one person who could understand you the best in the world, but it just wasn't the case tonight.

"can you hold my hand?" it was like he turned four again. but you couldn't deny anything from him, especially not when his eyes were glassy from all the drinks he had, so you took jude's hand in yours.

you started cleaning the cut, fully focused on your task, trying your best not to be distracted by the way your faces were inches from each other's.

"you're so pretty..."

if there was one thing you knew about drunk jude, it was that had loose lips. he couldn't keep any secret from you whenever he had the right amount of alcohol in his veins, and that often worked in your favour, but right now his words were only distracting you from your job.

"don't say that..." your heart was racing both at his words and at the proximity you two shared.

"i mean it." he was tracing your jaw with his fingers. you felt your hand quiver at the unexpected contact, and afraid you might mess something up because of jude, you quickly put a bandage on top of his, now clean, cut.

you started tidying up everything you used and expected jude to go to his room but he didn't budge.

"what's wrong?" you were a bit worried his injury was more serious than you thought and his brain was just working a bit slower than usual.

"kiss it better... please?" he said pointing at his bandage with a kissy face.

you were torn between kissing or slapping some sense into the boy standing in front of you. jude bent down so your face was in front of his, you obliged because you knew hammered jude would not have let you go to bed before you kissed him better. not because you wanted to, of course.

he was still unmoved, looking deep into your eyes so you took his hand in yours and led him to his bedroom for him to get a good night of sleep.

once you got jude to his bedroom safely, which wasn't an easy task given how starstruck he was at every little everyday thing in the house, he threw himself on his bed and grumbled something about clothes, before taking off his shirt with no prior notice. you immediately looked at your feet to give him some privacy while he changed clothes. he only giggled at your action saying he knows how much you would like to watch undress. which wasn't true, of course.

you took a quick peek, to make sure he was under his sheets. handing him a glass of water once he had his sheets pulled up to his chin and a content look on his face.

"no thanks, i'm not hungry."

"this is a glass of water?" you were perplexed at jude's words. the fatigue of your body preventing you from trying to understand his nonsense.

"well, i'm not hungry for water." you sighed at his childlike behaviour and considered shoving the water down his throat at some point before retracting, not really wanting to deal with the homicide of one the most in-demand football players of the moment.

you placed the glass on his bedside table and walked towards the door, unwilling to talk to a very drunk jude when all your body asked for was a good night of sleep.

but you couldn't ignore jude calling your name in a tired voice. you turned around to listen to whatever he had to say to you, only for him to beckon you closer with his hand. you rolled your eyes but still obliged, sitting on the unoccupied side of his bed.

"i just wanted to know why you were mad at me tonight." you didn't want to have this conversation tonight, but it seemed jude had other plans.

"because even if your intention was right, i think we could've solved the issue with no fits of screaming and fighting. i know you meant right but you can't just act without thinking all the time." you weren't even sure jude was registering your words properly, his eyes moving up and down your face.

"but i was mad at him too, he kept talking to my girl as if i wasn't right there." although jude was hardly convincing by the way the words came out of his mouth all slurred, you had to admit him calling you his girl put a faint smile on your face.

you thought your best friend was done but he just kept right on.

"fuck, you don't even know how many times i wished i was your boyfriend to stop these men looking at you that way. i mean i wished i was your boyfriend all the time, but especially then and also when you show me whoever you're talking to, you really have a vile taste in men y'know."

you looked at jude in total shock, he wasn't aware of what he just said from the way his face had the same drunken expression as before.

"do you mean it?" maybe he was pulling a prank on you. the look on his face didn't seem too serious, but then again he was drunk, how could you know how serious he was?

he laughed, how could he laugh in what was a very serious situation from your point of view?

"of course i mean it, sometimes it even looks like you want me too, maybe i just thought wrong. just tell me you don't want me, i reckon i could live with the fact i'm your best friend a bit longer." jude's nonsense somehow got even more nonsensical. how could he be saying all this with a smile on his face? even worse, how could he possibly think you didn't want him to be your boyfriend? you didn't even know what to say to him. hell, was there even a right thing to say in this exact situation?

"you can't do this to me jude... you can't just say this shit to me when you're drunk out of your mind. what do you expect me to say? i don't even know if you're aware of what you're telling me right now." words finally found their way out, your voice was much less cheery and much angrier than his as you felt a sense of injustice seeping through your veins. how could he say this to you like it was the simplest thing in the world? did he only love you when he was drunk? did he actually mean that, or was he over-exaggerating things under the influence?

"i love you and i loved you for a long time, please believe me, i know you're my best friend, and i don't want to ruin things between us... but i just needed to get this off my chest." jude was truly confused as to why you were so mad at him for this sudden 'confession'. of course, you didn't have to reciprocate his feelings, but he could only think about how he ruined your friendship for good from the way you responded so vehemently.

"goodnight jude." you left his room before he could add anything, and your thoughts were already running wild. you weren't sure if you should be feeling happy that he felt for you what you felt for him, or if you should be mad at jude for dropping this bomb on you so suddenly when he could clearly not think straight, making you doubt about the whole thing.

if you were overthinking before, your brain was now about to explode from everything that just happened in the span of an hour.

once you got under your sheets, no amount of sheep counting, lofi music, or breathing methods could put you to sleep. your brain was screaming at you, urging you to freak out about what just happened. every and each of your thoughts led back to jude, your own brain was torturing you, forcing you to separate truth from fiction at 3am.

you wished jude told you the truth, you wished his drunken words were his sober thoughts. but you didn't know how you were supposed to act like this never happened if this wasn't the case. how could you possibly come back to your little role, so well perfected over the years, of jude's best friend after he gave you the smallest glimpse of hope? your friendship with jude was the most important thing for you, but you wondered if you'd be able to pretend for the rest of your life or if you would go insane before that.

when sleep finally started taking over your endless train of thought, you came to the conclusion that if he meant what he said earlier, he'd have no issues telling you once he sobered up. you comforted yourself with this idea while your eyes closed by themselves, no more energy left in them to fight for the sake of overthinking.

jude had been avoiding you all day. the only time you exchanged an eye contact was during breakfast and even then he quickly went back to his room, not speaking a word to you. you could tell he was avoiding you like the plague, if he happened to be where you were he'd immediately flee the room, suddenly mesmerized by his phone.

you wished you were mad at him for how he was treating you and how he was making you feel, but the truth is, you could only focus on your heart breaking a little more each time he'd walk past you like you were two strangers.

after dining with the rest of your friends, you decided you were sick of jude's little games. if he didn't want to talk to you, then you would confront him whether he liked it or not.

it took you all the strength of the world to knock on his door after taking a deep breath.

no answer.

there was no way he knew it was you, you were sure of it. maybe he was just avoiding everyone tonight? you quickly refuted this idea, you saw him laugh with a couple of your friends half an hour ago.

you knocked again, a bit harsher this time to make sure he'd hear it. still nothing. you were preparing yourself to knock one more time, with much less hope than the first time.

"y/n, what are you doing?" yasmeen's voice startled you, it almost felt like getting caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.

"um... just needed to talk to jude, do you know where he is?" you couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the question. you were his best friend, if anyone should know where he was, that would be you. and your friend's dumbfounded look wasn't helping the heat creeping on your face right now.

"what do you mean? he left like an hour ago, had an unexpected meeting in london or something like that... he didn't tell you?"

it had been a very long time since you felt this way, maybe since middle school when your math teacher made fun of you in front of the whole class. your mouth suddenly drying, the sensation of your heart constricting, and your eyes stinging, trying their best not to let the sadness spill. it all felt like one big joke, you hoped jude would open the door, he'd tell you he was messing with you, he'd tell you everything he said last night again.

but that moment did not come. you couldn't answer yasmeen, afraid that the truth might spill along with your tears if you uttered a word. you simply shook your head, and went to your room, trying your best not to meet her eyes. your friends weren't blind, they could tell something was wrong between jude and you today, although none of them asked you what happened, they just kept a watchful eye on you and the way you looked at jude, in hopes he'd look back.

it felt good to cry in the privacy of your own room, far from the speculative conversation others were most likely having about the whole situation.

once your eyes were short of tears, you somehow found the strength to take your phone and click on your messages with jude to type a new one.

let's just keep doing what you did all day

i'll pretend you don't exist and last night never happened

probably best for us :)

[ghostfacd]

fratboy!luke who..

- looks like he doesn’t wanna be at any of the functions but he still def parties his ass off

- definitely did those pledgetok tiktoks

- sighs whenever his frat bro does something dumb like a very loud face palm

- when he fucks up he texts u “i sincerely apologize to my beautiful sexy girlfriend, pls forgive me”

- when you don’t pull up to any of his frat’s events he’s asking the president if he really has to go

- “do i really tho josh? it’s just one event. my girlfriend wont even be there!”

- shrugs off any sorority girl who tries to flirt with him

- “uh i have a girlfriend.”

- when he’s drunk, he’s probably showing the girls who are trying to get w him pictures from his photo album labeled “my pretty gf” and that backs them right off

- everytime he’s hungover, he goes to the McDonald’s near his uni and eat 10 hash browns and 1 McMuffin 😭

- how did he meet you… funny story actually 😓

- luke did those tiktoks where they’d knock on random people’s dorm doors and throw a football and catch it and be like “u ladies alright?”

- well funny story actually: luke’s friend, luca, actually threw the football at luke’s stomach when you opened your door and he tumbled back and fell onto you

- so i guess you can say he fell for you? HHAHA get it… okay.

- luca never lets luke live that down because he’s like “nah uh you cant be mad at me cause im the one who helped you get a girlfriend in the first place.”

[sukunasbow]

the slytherin boys confessing to you on new year’s eve

➤ blaise zabini

he waits for the right moment during the party in the slytherin common room. when the clock strikes midnight and the two of you are facing each other, not even taking notice of everyone around you celebrating a new year, he looks down at you and cups your face, pausing for a moment to admire you before kissing you.

➤ draco malfoy

he carries you to your dorm room when the party’s over and you’re barely able to walk straight after all the drinking, helping you get into bed and covering you with the blanket, brushing your hair out of your face and placing a trash can next to your bed. draco sits on the side of your bed, placing a comforting hand on your leg. when he thinks you’re asleep, he confesses to you, unaware that you’re awake and can hear him.

➤ lorenzo berkshire

when the crowd in the common room gets overwhelming and the loud music seems to be getting louder every second, lorenzo sneaks you away to his favourite spot in hogwarts, the astronomy tower. the weasley twins have fireworks going off to celebrate and the two of you just sit there and watch as the night sky lights up with different colours. he turns to look at you and you can feel him staring, so you do the same and shift your body so you’re looking at each other. “i’ve liked you since first year. i understand if you don’t feel the same way, but considering it’s a new year, i just needed to tell you. you mean so much to me.” he whispers.

➤ mattheo riddle

he can feel the jealousy radiating off of him as he’s sitting on one of the leather couches in the common room, watching you and harry potter join the rest of the crowd in dancing. your eyes shift to glance at mattheo behind harry’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he basically death stares at the brunette you’re swaying your hips against. when mattheo looks away, you do the same and bring your attention back to him, not expecting it when the angry slytherin walks up to you and harry. “matty? what—” before you can even finish your sentence, he punches harry right in the jaw and starts a fight with the gryffindor boy. later on, the two of you are in mattheo’s dorm as you clean his hands and the mark on his face from the one hit the other boy was actually able to get in. the party is still going on and although you’re pissed at him for ruining your night, he can’t help but tell you exactly why he started the fight and how much he wants you as you wipe some blood off of his bleeding knuckles.

➤ theo nott

theo takes a, slightly, calmer approach to his confession. when he sees you, his best friend, dancing with fred weasley, his immediate response is to shut down and distance himself from you for the rest of the night. he drowns his sorrows in cheap alcohol the twins managed to score for the party. eventually, when you realize you haven’t seen him in a bit, you part ways with fred to go find him. when you find him, he’s drinking alone on one of the leather couches in the middle of the room. confronting him, determined to figure out why he’s acting so weird, he drunkenly confesses.

[integra1127grimmreaper]

*The Orange Rogue 💦💔💞⌛

*The New Devil's Pact 💦⏳

*Magic City Jukebox 💦💔💞⏳

*GIF sets Season 1 ⌛

*GIF sets Season 2 ⌛

[megumimania]

THINKING BOUT YOU— gojo satoru

synopsis: whilst in a meeting about megumi’s conduct, gojo’s mind seems to be focused on one thing, you.

warnings: dad!gojo, gojo satoru x fem!reader, megumi having to put up with gojo’s bs, fluff, gojo being a shameless flirt, gojo attempting to be a concerned parent

“this is stupid.” huffed a 13 year old megumi.

megumi wasn’t here on his own volition of course as this was the doing of his annoying guardian gojo satoru. ever since he found out you were megumi’s teacher he’d been bribing megumi to get into trouble at school so he’d have a reason to come and see you.

“oh megumi this isn’t stupid, remember what i promised if you played your part?” he asked with a mischievous look in his eyes.

megumi knew that gojo had him hook line and sinker. he cursed himself for showing a semblance of a smile when they walked past the pet store last week.

“fine but don’t get in a mood when she turns you down.” he replied with a sass that gojo dismissed as typical teenage angst, something he was all too familiar with.

megumi politely knocked on your classroom door sparing no time for gojo to prepare his little act. “megumi, come take a seat.” you beckoned him in noticing the little scratch on his cheek that made you slightly concerned.

his tall white haired guardian followed in shortly after, taking the seat opposite you. “i’m really glad you could make it today gojo-san.” you addressed him politely, reaching over to shake his hand as you’d do with any other parent.

his hand lingered on yours for a second longer as he gazed into your eyes with such an intensity it made megumi sick. he was really pulling out all the stops for you wasn’t he?

“there’s no need for the formalities when we’re practically the same age.” he pointed out with a charming smile, letting your hand go in the process.

your cheeks were practically aflame as you tried to retain some sense of self control. “oh right…um. megumi.” you nodded at megumi who looked like he’d rather the ground swallow him whole than watch this interaction play out.

you expressed your concern over megumi’s behaviour and something about a report. gojo was half listening, half not. he was more preoccupied with staring at you with not a single ounce of shame. even behind those spectacles his gaze was intense making you lose focus at some points.

“…this is megumi’s third fight in the last two weeks.”

a sharp kick from under the desk by megumi jolted him back to earth. gojo winced in pain as megumi looked on as if nothing happened. he made a mental note to embarrass the hell out of megumi later.

you were unaffected by the silent altercation going on in front of you. despite megumi’s disdain towards his guardian it seemed like he rubbed off on him a little bit. their mannerisms were eerily similar that if it wasn’t for the physical differences, they could’ve easily passed for siblings.

“if this was any other student this would be an immediate suspension but megumi is a stellar student and we don’t think he would benefit from that at all.”

gojo let out a sigh of relief.

as much as he loved being around megumi, he could admit that he did not have the time nor the facilities to teach him whilst he was at home. in his defence he was too busy carrying the jujutsu world on his back, which was a gruelling task in of itself.

he slapped his knee an indicator that he was ready to grab megumi and go home. he ushered megumi outside, telling him to wait for him in the car to which a disgruntled megumi surprisingly did. as soon as he left, gojo jumped on your desk.

his sapphire blue eyes trained on you, watching you mark your students essays with a furrow in your brow that he desperately wanted to smooth away.

ah how he knew the pains of marking essays all too well, with panda's and toge's essays being the ones he usually offloaded to other staff when they wasn't looking.

“how did i do?” gojo asked, his voice like honey to your ears.

the classroom was now tinted with a pinkish orange hue as the sun started to set, casting shadows in the classroom. “megumi’s a smart kid, he probably knows now with how obvious you were.” you responded, trying to not loose this mgroove you were in

“i wasn’t being that obvious.” gojo grumbled to himself. he knew damn well he was being obvious as hell but didn’t want to admit it, the irony of his remark making you scoff.

"seriously?" you gave him a deadpan stare. gojo's whole existence was the epitome of obviousness: his striking looks, his cursed technique, his lineage, hell even his personality was far from discreet. however he still maintained his defense.

"megumi is a smart kid but at the end of the day he's still a kid. he probably thinks I was just being a bit too full on." he drummed his fingers against the desk and you laughed at his delusion.

in the short time you knew megumi, you already established that he was an incredibly smart and perceptive kid, even for someone his age.

“stop doubting him.” and that was a tough pill for gojo to swallow, it was easier to pretend that megumi was like every kid in the world than accept the fact that soon he’ll have his childhood robbed from him.

that he would be forced to grow up and become essentially a child soldier for an invisible group of elders and clan leaders, fighting battles that will scar him for life. being a sorcerer was a thankless job but thank god the pay was decent.

gojo decides that he’s not going to bore you with his late night worries about megumi, after all they were his own worries sto bear.

“i’ll think about it more once you’ve given me a kiss.” he teases, his eyebrows wiggling as he closes his eyes and puckers up. you snort at his childish behaviour as you eventually cave in, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

you pull away as a camera clicks from behind you, a blinding white flash, forcing you to blink away the light. megumi looked smug as hell, finally enjoying the first time he’s successfully managed to one up gojo. the childlike glee in his typical sullen expression being the one that gojo desperately wanted to protect.

“you little…” gojo took off after that not bothering to finish his sentence, busy chasing megumi down the hallway outside into the car park where your back window conviently faced.

gojo now had megumi in a headlock much to the dismay of their driver, who honestly looked so worn out and so over their nonsense. gojo’s long arms desperately tries to reach for the camera in megumi’s hands but to no avail as the camera is already in the air before he can react.

in a move no one saw coming, megumi manages to shake off the invincible gojo by biting his finger. the white haired man winces in pain looking at his slightly reddening finger with minimal concern, as the camera lands in the driver’s hands.

after a few minutes of roughhousing gojo surrenders, warily draping his arm lazily over megumi’s shoulder as they make their way back to the car. your heart warms as the love and admiration they have for eachother is clearly shared in their own weird ways.

with the playful display of bravado over with now, you peel your eyes away from the window, closing the lights, blinds and whiteboard, grabbing your jacket before locking your classroom door shut.

your walk home is nothing short of uneventful but even as the music blares in your headphones, you can’t get over the sound of megumi and gojo battling it out in the school car park, the thought of that bringing a smile to your face.

he truly did love him.

[luxthestrange]

WTDSIK Memes#6

Kalego*Face palming seeing the gift Sullivan brought to his son*...WHEN I SAID YOU CAN BRING ONE GIFT-I OBVIOUSLY MEANT SMALL!?!

Balam*Happily positioning baby Iruma next to his new teddybear*He seems to like it~

Y/n*Trying to calm down your husband*Calm down 'Lego! your gonna have another panic attack!

Kalego: I AM CALM!?!

Balam & Y/n*Both hug Kalego and pat his head and back*There there~

[haebi-nd]

FERRARI GETO SUGURU'S GF

POV: being f1 driver!geto's adored gf w/ moodboards & headcanons

a/n. i fear i know too little about geto's personality, and racing in general, to make fully developed headcanons with this au but when i saw this fanart by @aransmind i just had to. (they have more art as well and it's all amazing so check their acc out!) anyways, i hope you enjoy the few headcanons here that i've made + the moodboards which i'm far better at, thanks <3 also while i was researching.... "researching" i came across this amazing fic by @rorja that I've taken a little bit of inspo from—go check it out along with the fanart that inspired this all!

“INTRODUCING THIS SEASON'S HOTTEST DRIVER YET, GETO SUGURU”

f1 driver!geto who drives his pr manager up the wall because he's constantly retweeting, reblogging paparazzi photos taken of you as you sit in the audience tentatively watching him

+ especially the one they've got of you pretty crying after one of his earliest victories

f1 driver!geto whose fans always manage to find every single photo you guys have ever taken together and absolutely gush about how cute of a couple you guys make

f1 driver!geto who always ends up giving into your wishes for him to stay just a minute longer in each other's warmth before he's off for training

f1 driver!geto and gf!you who loves brainstorming strategies and plans together

f1 driver!geto who makes sure to credit your input on the cunning pit stop strategies or undercuts his team is known for pulling off

pretty ferrari boy geto whose love for racing, although passionate, could never even compare to the unfathomable amount of love he has for you and only you

© haebi-nd, haebi nice day

[dearabhi]

HERBOLOGY - harry james potter.

a/n: hi! this isn't the best of my writing, but i just wanted to keeps this acc alive so i posted this fic. i lowkey don't like this fic, but hey, hope u enjoy this though!

summary: hufflepuff! reader wakes up in dread, what she didn't know was something that lighted her life forever.

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭

Y/N WAS SO SLEEPY, really. why would anyone not be in this cosy weather?

y/n would like to stay in bed and sleep all day, but susan being the most annoying person she is, woke y/n up.

when the two entered the great hall for breakfast, y/n couldn't help but fall asleep in susan's shoulder.

"get off me, idiot" susan scolded y/n, shoving her off. 

"but you're soooo comfortable, susan" y/n whined as she placed her head in susan's shoulder and started sleeping again. susan rolled her eyes, but let y/n sleep.

just as she was about to fall asleep, her second-most annoying friend, hannah decides to wake her up by stepping on her foot. 

this time, y/n was really up. "ouch! that hurts!"

"i don't care but, don't turn right away after i say this but, harry is looking at you," hannah whispered to y/n. 

y/n almost broke her neck while turning to face the gryffindor table just to see a certain raven-haired boy looking at her.

REALISING Y/N WAS LOOKING AT HIM, harry quickly turned to ron and hermione and pretended to be hearing whatever they were talking about.

"ron! when will you ever stop depending upon me and write your own history of magic essay?" hermione asked ron, quite aggressively.

"never ever, mione" he replied and went on to take the toast and shove it inside his mouth. hermione rolled her eyes.

"i am going to do it" harry said, suddenly. hermione and ron looked at him with questioning looks. "i am going to talk y/n l/n,"

"this is the thousandth time you told us this, harry" ron said immediately. harry rolled his eyes.

"thank you for those kind words, ron, but this time i am serious." harry added determinedly. 

"ronald you should stop discouraging harry, and i think this is a brave choice, but i think you would lose y/n as she's getting out of the great hall right now-" hermione started, before she could finish, harry was running towards y/n.

y/n was walking with hannah to the herbology class, even though hannah doesn't have herbology now. she just needed an excuse to see neville.

y/n stopped walking when she heard him calling her name.

y/n turned around to see harry potter walking, no, literally sprinting towards her. it was a rare sight. 

y/n tells to hannah to go ahead and waits for harry to catch his breath.

harry then, immediately says, "y/n, can we, uh, walktogethertoherbology" quite fastly and y/n couldn't catch him.

"i am sorry, harry, but would you repeat it couldn't catch it," y/n asked him.

harry turns a little red. clearing his throat, he starts, "can we walk together to uh, herbology?"

harry looks at her expectantly. how can she ever say no to him? 

"you don't have to, you know? it's just a request and it's completely fine if you don't-"

"no, no, i would love to walk with you, harry" y/n stops him, and a beautiful smile appears on harry's face.

harry insisted on taking her bag and as they started walking to the class. few jokes were shared as they walked, and honestly, it was the longest conversation the two ever had.

despite having to be in the same year and almost the same classes more than 5 years now, she and harry barely talked thanks to both of their lack of confidence when it comes to the other.

herbology would normally take longer minutes to reach, but while walking with harry, it only felt like seconds. 

the two, sadly had to be separate from each other when they reached the class.

but as soon as the class ended, harry rushed towards y/n and asked her out.

ofcourse, as a sane person would, y/n obviously said yes.

y/n was glad and thanked susan for waking her up early.

[xythlia]

⎙ — 𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐘.𝐓𝐎𝐑

› WELCOME TO THE RED ROOM... RESERVED FOR GUESTS OF PARTICULAR TASTES

› toji x f!reader

› word count : 2k+

- ̗̀໒ warnings : sex work, on camera, choking, my spit kink shining thru again, biting, backshots, (1) ass smack, fingering, cervix fucking, reader has hair long enough to pull, squirting, rough sex, full nelson, creampie

You take a drag of your cigarette, bleary sleep deprived eyes doing their best to focus on the obnoxious flashing neon sign. WE'VE GOT A DOLL FOR EVERY TASTE. It makes you scoff as you grind the but out beneath your scuffed shoe, that's all they think of you all as, dolls. Props that just so happen to moan and squirt.

For the most part you keep your complaints to yourself, money is money. Not that this was what you ever pictured you'd land on as a career but it could always be worse.

Exhaling the last of the crisp night air from your lungs you pull open the sleek silver backdoor to Cloud Nine. The back hallways are made up of dim, twisting corridors. Some lead to the back offices, to security, but as you hook a left to brush past a tinkling bead curtain you're met with the large open dressing room you all share.

You prefer to spend as little time back here as possible, doing the bulk of your prep at your apartment before you're on for the night. You can't stand their mindless, giddy chatter. It also prevents you from getting attached to any of them, or taking on a puppy so to speak.

Before you can finish tucking your bag and coat away in the dingy locker your floor manager is waving a piece of paper in your face.

It makes your stomach flip.

"You got swapped, Angel can't do the red room and you're the only other experienced girl in tonight."

The red room was only ever offered on nights an experienced doll was on the floor, since the people reserving red rooms always have a... particular taste in mind. Newer girls wouldn't be able to handle it. As much of an annoyance as it is to be switched with so little notice, you don't mind. It can get dull shaking your ass for run of the mill patrons all night, plus the red room is where the real money is.

"One or-?" You ask vaguely.

"One guy, don't keep him waiting alright?" She says dismissively.

You grab the piece of paper, the list of what you will and strictly won't do for a red room service. It was standard fare: creampie, light sadism, degradation, ect. Since it wasn't too extreme you didn't bother filling it out, it's easier to just tell the guy.

It's not far to the private rooms, and part of you is more than a little eager to see just who reserved one of these eye wateringly expensive sessions.

Even bathed in the dim red lights you could tell he was attractive, dark hair and eyes that held something elusive even though he kept contact with your own.

"I didn't bother filling this out, nothing you requested is off limits for me." You smile as you let the paper flutter to the floor, taking the seat beside him on the plush lounge.

Out of the corner of your eye you see the blinking light on the camera, he already set it up to record. It makes you quirk a brow at him, usually even the most gutsy ones are a little camera shy.

He smirks at you. "I'll be gentle."

With the way he says it you know it's a lie.

With a grin you lay back, propping a pillow under your head and trying not to focus on that little green recording light in your peripheral. The worst part is being filmed, but that's part of the rooms appeal. These guys pay for the ability to record the entire session not just for being able to fuck someone with no holds bared, but the catch is the club also gets to upload it.

The feeling of his skin brushing against yours cracks your train of thought. His fingertips are calloused, hands rough but he doesn't have the look of a working man. As those fingertips caress a trail down your inner thighs you shiver, letting out a quiet gasp.

"Puttin' on a show?" He purrs.

You give a breathy giggle, winding your arms around his muscles back as he leans over you between your legs. "Isn't that what you paid for?"

He pushes against you, lips brushing experimentally against yours, and deepens it to something harsh and hungry when he feels you start to squirm beneath him. His touch feels like fire, scorching a path across your skin with every grope and fondle of your body. You feel a familiar sensation of dizziness, of lightheadedness; every movement is skilled and purposeful, a deliberate attempt to steal the breath from your lungs and leave you choking on your own spit.

His lips begin to make their way down your neck, sucking hard against the delicate skin and making you groan with every nip of his teeth. In a daze you help him undo the straps of your barely there top, head tipping back when his mouth finds one of your nipples. They get the same rough treatment as your throat, and he gives a particularly sharp graze of his teeth clearly just to hear you yelp.

Your hands cup your breasts, kneading them, as his mouth dips marks a path down your stomach. Caught up in your own eagerness you wiggle your hips slightly, anticipating what's coming only to feel him grip your legs and yank you down further. The suddenness makes you wince, propping on your elbows to see just what he has in mind.

The way he's looking at you, with such debauched hunger it sends butterflies off in your chest. You don't even know his name but you know this is the kind of man a red room was designed for. As he leans forward again between your legs you feel his erection press hard against you, making the fabric of your panties slide against your clit with delicious friction.

Before you can ask, beg, for more his thick fingers glide up the column of your throat and press hard against the sides. Squeezing against your carotid artery and making your mouth drop open. As soon as your lips part you see the shimmer against his bottom lip, watch in fascination as a thick clear string of spit comes down to meet your tongue.

Sucking his lip he brings his face barely an inch from yours, through the fuzz of your restricted blood supply you notice a scar on the corner of his mouth.

"I didn't pay for you to look at the fuckin' camera." His voice is low, gutteral.

The second he lets go your body is automatically sucking air into your lungs, hard and sputtering as you lift your hips up to grind against him. In one smooth movement, before you can even process it properly, he's got you flipped on your stomach and pulling your ass up and back.

Your cheek presses against the plush fabric, eyes squeezed shut feeling his fingers run over your damp panties. There's not even enough time to relish in the contact before two fingers have the fabric pulled to the side, his knuckles sliding past the ring of muscle makes you moan against the lounge seat.

Hearing the soft shuffling of clothes you know he's undressing, even while his other hand is occupied with keeping his fingers scissoring against your slick walls. The sudden emptiness of his fingers withdrawing was quickly replaced by the head of his cock sliding through your arousal, making you suck in a sharp breath.

Just from that little contact you can feel he's got girth and heft, excitement makes you dig your nails into the lounge and press your chest down against it, keeping your ass higher.

You hear him scoff and the sting of his hand coming down hard against your skin makes you cry out, but it's nothing compared to the biting pain as the swollen head pushes against your soaked hole. The stretch is agonizing, you're not sure any amount of prep would've been sufficient. You groan, bottom lip caught in your teeth as you feel the fabric against your face getting wet with the spit seeping from the corners of your mouth.

He doesn't wait for you to adjust before slamming his hips against your ass, hard enough to make your breathing hitch in your throat, and you can feel him brushing against your cervix. The pace is brutal, making your body jostle and shake with each thrust.

Slick squelching mingles with the sound of skin smacking skin to form a perverse melody that only heightens the tension building in your gut. Frantically you slide one hand down to rub you neglected, aching clit but before you can make contact he's got you pulled up by a fistful of your hair. The sting of pain makes tears prick in your waterline as blubbering moans spill from your lips.

The way your body rocks forward with every brush of his cock against your cervix, the way his girth makes your cunt feel overstuffed, it all makes your head spin. His grunts join the obscene cacophony of sounds along with your whines when he lets go of your hair to support your body with one arm while his other hand catches your jaw in a bruising grip.

You squirm, feeling the hot tracks of tears slipping down your cheeks but his hold is steadfast. If you had more presence of mind you'd swear you could feel your heartbeat not just through your entire body but in your cunt too.

As you dissolve in his hold, a crying whimpering mess, he pushes you back down face first into the lounge, holding you by the scruff as he repositions to hit deeper. Your moans fracture into gasps and hiccups as you clench down around him, finally able to rub frenzied circles around your clit and feel that compressed coil snap inside you.

The lounge becomes incredibly damp around your knees and your brain feels as if it's coated in sticky, thick honey.

You whimper pathetically as he yanks you up again, never breaking his pace, forces you to look straight into that ever blinking green light.

"Not all you can take is it?" He sneers, hooking fingers into your mouth and whatever reply you had gets lost in the garbled sounds you choke out around them.

When he suddenly pulls out you groan, body feeling exhausted and boneless on the comedown from your orgasm but he isn't done with you yet. He lays on his back, supporting you on top of him as he makes sure your pussy faces the cameras lens and slips back inside you.

Your eyes roll back as you struggle to help support your own weight. It catches you off guard when pulls you down so your back is pressed against his chest, both of your bodies slick with sweat and various other fluids. His arms loop beneath yours and his fingers lock together behind your neck, making your breaths come in wheezed yelps and your legs automatically rise up.

The muscles in your thighs are screaming from the strain and your lungs burn again, you feel yourself camping around him, walls throbbing and sucking his cock back in with every thrust.

You can't help but sob and blubber hoarsely, begging to cum again with every sharp upswing of his hips. His pace breaks up quickly the tighter you squeeze him, devolving into sloppy thrusts until you feel his cock throb inside you. Warm, sticky heat spreads inside you and you sigh brokenly in his hold.

The cameras unfeeling, fish eye lens catches the creamy white rings forming on his cock, the way his cum drips out of your sore pussy when he slides out of you with a throaty, satisfied groan.

You grin, slow and lazy up at the ceiling. Red room sessions aren't just about the money, they're the most... fulfilling.