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praeluxius · 3 days

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Rendezvous

part 5 of folie à deux. masterlist

male reader x rei and liz of IVE (ft. sakura, wonyoung, yujin, etc.)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

words: 12.2k

rendezvous - a meeting at an agreed time and place

Gaeul pulls up her underwear then turns to the other two girls and asks, "is Rei running late?"

"She's probably humping another stranger." Wonyoung retorts, laughing a little under her breath, hiding her smile from Gaeul by turning toward the mirror. She picks up the red lipstick laid out on the vanity table and brushes it across her plump lips.

"She's not coming here," Yujin explains. "She's going to the party with Liz."

"And we're okay with that?" Wonyoung raises an eyebrow and looks at Yujin through the mirror.

"Don't worry, I already added Liz to the list to make up for it."

"Really? Just like that?" Gaeul is quick to speak with a little worry in her voice.

"Really," Yujin smirks. "Also, I think Rei is giving up on the whole fucking strangers thing. She had another disappointment today."

"Oh right. That explains it." Wonyoung places the lipstick down and picks up the earrings laid out in front of her. "She did ask me if she could borrow our friend for a night and get some good dick."

"She did?" Yujin's interest seems peaked by the comment, as she casts her gaze out and off into the distance.

"Yes," Wonyoung punctuates her statement with a firm nod. "Wouldn't surprise me if she already hopped on that this afternoon."

"I was with him this afternoon, Wony, so..." Yujin trails off.

"Did he rush off?" Gaeul asks and Yujin frowns slightly at the thought of you dumping her to go fuck her friend. "At least he's in safer hands with Rei instead of that slut from the bar," Gaeul utters her words through an aggravated grumble as she sits in her chair, leaning in toward her mirror to finish the final touches to her makeup.

"Slut?" Yujin asks, picking up a bra from her dresser. She pulls the straps over her bare shoulders, slips her arms through, and clasps it behind her back.

"Minju."

"Minju Minju? Kim Minju?" The half-naked Yujin looks at Wonyoung for confirmation.

"Yes," Wonyoung says as elegantly as ever, standing tall and turning away from the mirror. "Now, will one of you help me into this dress?"

"Wait." Yujin raises a hand. "He was at a bar with Minju? Drinking? When?"

"Yesterday," Gaeul says as she stands up and collects Wonyoung's dress and carries it over to the naked and waiting woman.

Wonyoung is waiting with her hands on her bare hips. Her slender body is smooth and exposed. She is a thing of perfect symmetry with her flat stomach and small but perky breasts. "Yeah, and they were doing a lot more than drinking."

"Wonyoung," Yujin steps toward her, one hand on her elbow and the other softly clenched by her chest. "What are you saying?"

"Let's just say..." Gaeul pauses to let Wonyoung step into her dress and then she drags it up and lets her slide her arms into it. "A lot of bars smell. But most of them aren't locked when they should be open and don't smell of sex when they finally let you in."

Wonyoung settles into her dress, and Gaeul fits it tightly to her frame. Wonyoung lifts her hair up and lets it fall over her shoulders. "You should hurry up if you want to make the most of him, Yujin, before everyone you know has used him, and you'll be the last." Wonyoung looks at Gaeul who's still touching the dress up behind her. "Well, almost the last."

"Who says I want to..."

"Please Yujin." Wonyoung interrupts. "I'm sure the teasing is fun and all, but trust me, nothing compares to a good, proper fucking." Wonyoung stretches her arm to the dresser to pick up her necklace which's expensive enough to put a pair of twins through university three times over. Wonyoung places it against her neck, holding the ends out for Gaeul. She bunches her hair up again for Gaeul to clasp it. "Am I right, Gaeul?"

Gaeul keeps silent while she works. Fastening the hook and letting it drop along the nape of Wonyoung's pale white neck and hang just over her collarbones.

"I have plenty of time," Yujin says. "We're keeping him around, aren't we?" She flips her head as she runs her hand through her hair. She slips a finger beneath one of the bra's straps and adjusts its position on her shoulder.

"Well, that is the plan." Wonyoung nods after letting her hair fall again. “He doesn’t have much choice now.”

"Oh, he will have a choice,” Yujin speaks through a smirk. “But the result will be the same."

"I like things dirty. Natural. That’s just me."

That's her response to you asking exactly how she lives in the hellhole you just left. An answer as serious as you will ever get from Minju.

There's an awkward couple of seconds where you check to see the driver's reaction and you lock eyes through his rear view. The narrow cut of his face doesn't give you the full expression and you can't tell if he's disturbed or impressed. After a moment it passes and you focus back on the girl to your side.

"Where do you even eat?" you ask.

"Take-out, duh." You both share a look and Minju is smiling with her eyes. "I just put it on my lap when I sit down."

"But where do you sit? The ground?"

"Preferably on your co—"

"Hey, we're close now." You cut her off before she makes it even more uncomfortable for the driver.

"Swing a right here," Minju calls out to him. He shoots another look back in the mirror, this time his furrowed brows show his annoyance. "And pull up on the left."

Minju telling the guy how to do his job is actually a very Minju thing to do. As unappreciated as it may be.

You check your watch. Fifteen minutes late. Great. Hopefully, you can slip in and the girls won't notice. You could play it off cool, say you've been there all along and they must have missed you. You would have to slip away from Minju though, she would give the game away.

Maybe she reads your face, or the silence might have been a clue. Minju taps your shoulder and tells you not to worry. Stop caring about what others think and just walk in like you own the place.

You step out first and rush around to get to Minju's door. She scoffs as you open it. "And they say chivalry is dead." Her words come paired with a grin. You offer your hand to hers which she takes and uses to help pull her up. She straightens herself out, and checks to see that her skirt is all aligned before looking up at you.

You close the door and the driver is quick to pull away. "Hey, Minju, maybe you can go in first and then I will—"

"Shh." She locks her arm around yours at the elbow. "Stop. Just walk."

She pulls, tugging you alongside her, you adjust your footing to walk alongside, arm in arm, as she guides you up the stairs to the man at the door. Minju rests her head on your shoulder. You don't ask, don't protest. You can feel how easy it is, with her walking at your side, and so you say nothing. Just like she wants.

The six-foot-four bouldering giant is the first to speak, "Minju. Haven't seen you here for a while. Welcome back." His wide face, chiselled with age and experience, splits in a welcoming grin.

Minju softly bows her head and you follow her lead. "Been busy," is the reply she gives.

The security gives one single nod and replies, "As they say, a busy person doesn't have time to be unhappy." He grins even wider this time.

Minju ignores the impromptu attempt at philosophy and you both pass by into the house. The place is huge; of course it is—it's a mansion in the hills. But even from the outside, you couldn't have expected this.

Straight ahead is a huge, curved stairwell. On either side of you, it opens into a series of corridors already full of a smattering of guests. Music pours from off to the left. The unmistakable rhythm of that one K-pop song you heard all last week but still don't know the name of. People are sitting around, lounges filled with men in the latest fashion and women dressed to perfection. Most if not all with drinks in hand.

"Let's get us a drink." Minju pulls gently on your arm. "I'm thinking tequila."

There's not much else you can do right now. Your hope of making a low-key appearance, blending in with the crowd and slipping through unnoticed, is completely lost now as Minju takes a long, slow and deliberate approach through the place. She keeps your arm linked with hers, and as she saunters, her stride is swayed.

You feel the call to arms. You straighten your back, broaden your shoulders and strut like you belong. A few heads turn. Probably more for her than you, but the confidence still builds. There's not a single person in sight you think who could question whether you belong or not. The trick, you realise, is not to doubt yourself. Just walk in like you own the place. Minju’s words echo in your mind.

Two girls catch your gaze from the corner of your eye. They have their hands by their mouth, sharing unheard whispers while looking in your direction as you walk by. It takes a few moments, to narrow them down and figure it out. It's the two girls who fought outside school the other day, clearly having settled their differences.

You both enter the kitchen to find a young woman wrestling a bottle of champagne. Rei struggles over and over until it eventually pops, much to her delight. She lets out a loud squeal of surprise and looks over at two of her companions who took a step back when it popped.

Rei's friend stands just behind her, stifling an unheard giggle. She takes the bottle from Rei's hands and begins to pour. Golden bubbles into a set of four flutes.

That's when Rei finally notices you. She screams some incoherent words and throws her arms around you, almost knocking you off balance to the floor and taking Minju with you. The girl is already drunk.

"Oh my god! Come, come, uncle, meet my friends."

"Uncle?" Minju remarks.

"Don’t ask," you whisper from the corner of your mouth before Rei pulls the pair of you along.

"This is Liz." She points to the lady with the silver-purple hair, holding the bottle of champagne. She wears a thin black lace choker on her neck above the low cut of her top. As well as a pair of black leather trousers that run into her heeled boots. Rei throws her arms around Liz's waist. "Hey Liz, did I tell you about my new sexy uncle who saves me like a knight?"

Her question meets a look of confusion and a narrow-eyed glance at you. The girl smiles at you, in a forced what-the-fuck-is-happening kind of way. She says something to Rei that you can't quite make out over the sounds of conversation around you.

One of the other girls picks up her glass before introducing herself. "Sakura." She holds out an elegant hand. A pretty girl with delicate features, a flawless complexion, and pink waves that flow over her shoulders. You reach out and take her hand. "Welcome to my house. I don't believe we have met." Her accent is lyrical and pronounced, with the right amount of cute.

You introduce yourself and barely finish doing so before Minju takes over. "Long time no see. Both of you. Come here Nako, Kkura." Minju breaks her lock with your arm to go embrace the two girls. She hugs the girls with affection. No love lost between them.

She's asking them a series of the usual questions. How's life? How are you doing? What happened to the person with the name you don't recognise? Have they moved to Australia? They did? How many months ago?

Then Sakura turns her attention to you.

"It is good you have a new friend." She tells Minju. "Did you meet him at a shoot?"

You think that's a compliment, at least.

Rei laughs before Minju corrects Sakura, "he's in my class, Kkura. He isn't a model." Rei tells her, still laughing. "I see what you're saying though, it's the eyes. Put him on an ad and I'm buying."

"I like his cheekbones," Kkura responds.

"I'm right here, ladies." They're talking like you're not in the room and your face is starting to burn.

"Sorry." Kkura's voice is sugary sweet. Her smile and coy gaze even more so. "Enjoy your night. I have more guests to greet." Sakura spins and struts away with Nako in tow, before stopping beside two men that seem a little lost.

"Come." Rei tugs your arm, almost spilling her drink on you. "What are you two drinking?" she asks, not waiting for a response.

"I'll just have a beer—"

"Tequila." Minju doesn't miss a beat.

"I don't think there's tequila..." Rei steps toward the liquor bottles and Liz silently follows.

"Ugh." Minju doesn't try to hide her disdain. "The champagne then." She looks over and picks up two full champagne flutes from the table.

"Did you two get a card yet?" Rei asks.

"Card?" you ask back.

"No, we haven't," Minju says before turning to you and handing you a glass. "Didn't anyone tell you? That's the rule tonight. Everyone has to take a card with a challenge that they have to complete, with evidence or a witness. Anyone who fails to do it by eleven has to do a forfeit."

"Does everyone know what's on the cards or what the forfeit is?"

"Nope," she winks, before downing her glass of champagne. "That's the fun. So what did you girls get?"

"Mine was easy," Rei says. "All I had to do was kiss a guy wearing white. Did that as soon as I came in." Rei points off into a distance somewhere. You can't make out where the finger ends its aim.

"And you, Liz?" you ask, and she avoids any eye contact with you.

"She might have to forfeit." Rei laughs. "Tell them what you got." She pats her friend on the back.

"Um, I— I have to... finger a woman..." She just about squeezes the words from her lips before she quickly takes a drink. Hiding her burning face behind a hand.

Minju's eyes open wide and you hear Rei giggle into her drink. "Have you ever?" you ask, and there's no need for her to answer you. The look of anxiety and panic on her face tells you everything.

"I offered to help," says Rei. "You know, as a friend. Still stands by the way."

"Thanks..." Liz forces the response through her covered mouth.

"What other stuff is in there?" you ask, pondering the possibilities.

"Liz probably got one of the hardest." Rei shrugs. "Some of them are just about drinking or other stupid dares."

"Or she got the best one," Minju comments. "We better get ours." Minju slides her arm around yours again.

Rei leans into you before you leave, whispering, "If it's a tough one, I can help." Then she slips away and Minju pulls on your arm.

"Thanks, girls, see you soon."

The rest of the crowd fills the rooms you walk through. People are already on the dance floor, holding their drinks as they bounce, or holding onto other people as the rhythm guides their bodies together.

In the next room, there are two tables, each with a person behind and people crowding at each of them. "So these are the cards, right? I hope I get an easy one..."

"I hope you get a tough one. What if you have to suck a cock?" Minju asks.

"Then I take a forfeit."

"Okay but what if the forfeit is that you have to suck two cocks?" She jokes and laughs.

"Funny..."

"Alright. I'm going first."

You're just about to follow her in when you hear your name called from behind. You know the voice without looking back, a smooth melody in song and one that tenses your body up. As Minju walks away, Yujin walks toward you.

You turn and there she is. Wow. It's only been a few hours since you saw her last, and yet, like every other time you see her, she blows you away. The red dress is, honestly, amazing. Fitting tightly at the waist, flattering her shape and highlighting those hips. As ever, she gave the outfit her own personal flair, wearing it a little different than when she tried it on earlier, with one strap off the shoulder now. The thing about Yujin is that, sure, someone could wear the same clothes as her, but they could never wear them like she does.

She has changed her hair too, pinning part of it up behind a piece of jewelled decoration. And then there's that smile. Perfect, dazzling. Full lips curled slightly at the sides, pearlescent teeth peeking through. The sparkling glint of her deep eyes looking up at yours.

She sees through the silence. "What's wrong? What are you staring at?" Her little giggle comes with a poke to the centre of your chest. It brings your focus back to reality. "Don't I look okay?"

"Yeah— of course— Yujin—" You say her name as if she isn't the absolute centre of your attention. She giggles a second time and draws a circle in the centre of your chest with her forefinger, tracing it and smiling as you struggle for words.

"What, do I have lipstick on my teeth or something?" She brings a manicured fingertip across her grin and you shake your head in return.

"Not that I can see," you answer.

"Then what are you staring at? See something you want?" She's teasing you but you manage to stumble through the answer.

"You look..." It doesn't matter what words you try and find. She does that half-lidded, cocking her head thing to the side and you're lost again. Lost to her, hypnotised by her. It's embarrassing.

The giggle grows into a laugh, her shoulders shrugging with amusement as she closes her eyes for a second, shaking her head softly. She places her hand on your collar, smoothing over the edge of your blazer and then adjusting it over your shoulders. "You dressed up well. Not used to seeing you in something so smart." She runs her hands down the front of your blazer, pressing it against your body to straighten it. "You look good," Yujin says with a final, gentle pat at the centre of your chest.

"I need to take a card." You brush over the compliment—you’ve never really been that good at taking them.

"Better hurry up before they're all gone, you don't want to have to do the forfeit. Once you get one, make sure you find me." She pokes her finger into your chest. "It's important, okay?" She bats her eyelashes at you. You promise you'll be there, you're sure of it, and then with a final smile, she leaves and heads towards a different room, slipping into the crowds.

The whole exchange is over far too quickly. The phantom touch of Yujin's fingers lingers on your chest, even as she disappears. You would stand, spellbound forevermore, a statue set upon the tiles, if it wasn't for the fact you look a complete fool standing and staring into nothing.

You turn to the tables and can't spot Minju in the crowd. You spend some time waiting, working your way forward as people collect their cards until you're at the front. A woman holds out a deck of face-down cards and you draw one from it, slip it into your pocket and quickly move on.

"You look lost. Like a lamb." The unmistakable sound of Wonyoung's voice rings out. "I'm surprised you even showed up. Last I heard you were crying into a whiskey." Her laugh has the venom of a snake, with an even worse bite. Her purple dress hugs her slender frame. It clings to the sharp contours of her shoulders. An expensive jewelled necklace rests in the centre of her bare upper chest.

"I wasn't crying..." You deny the accusation.

Wonyoung presses her hands to your shoulders, forcing you into place as she meets your eyes. "Wasn’t sure if you would show your face tonight. Don’t worry, no one knows what happened, and I can keep it that way." There's something about Wonyoung that always feels intimidating, especially now, with how her eyes seem to trap you and the way her voice plays out so assured, full of certainty and purpose. "But it’s a good thing you’re here. I need you."

"What do you mean?" It's been barely a minute and she's already asking things of you. She just brushes over the storm she caused and the damage she could have done to your life.

Wonyoung leans close and moves her lips to your ear. "You know that idiot boyfriend of mine? Well, I need him to catch us."

"You're joking, right?" you ask, and then after a brief moment of silence her message sinks in and you realise she isn't joking. "Haven’t we done enough damage?"

"I’m already solving your school issue, so the least you can do is help me out." She dismisses your problems as always. "Right now I need you to focus and help me make him break up with me." Wonyoung strokes your cheek. "Does that sound doable?"

You bite down into your lip, trying to contain your emotions and to keep your annoyance from bubbling to the surface.

"Great thanks. I will find you when I need you." With a cruel and patronising tap to your head, Wonyoung smiles smugly.

"I didn't even agree."

"You never said no to fucking me before. And it's not like Minju's pussy even comes close to mine."

She flashes a dark grin at you before disappearing through the crowds. Fuck you do have a type of girl, and fuck does Wonyoung and her attitude get under your skin. In some sick and twisted way, it still turns you on. Fuck.

It's probably about time to get away. To leave the party and this fucked up life. Anyone with a little bit of sense would. In the end, you just settle for going to the bathroom.

For five minutes you have been waiting and the line hasn't budged. Too many people waiting to use a single bathroom.

"You're Minju's date right?" You turn to find the pink-haired girl from earlier standing beside you. The one who owns this place. Her thin lips curve to a gentle, elegant smile that cuts across her pale complexion. You realise now, stood beside her, how dainty she is. Her petite frame matches her cute voice. "Are you waiting in line?"

"Yeah, I—" you reply, not fully sure where the question is leading but her widening smile interrupts you.

"Follow me." She starts walking, expecting you to not question her command. You walk behind her, her slim frame adorned elegantly in light fabric. Pink waves flow over her bare, exposed shoulder. Her heels strike the floor with a rhythm of confidence. She glides gracefully with poise and intent. Her every step is punctuated with a swagger you cannot match.

With her hair bobbing softly, she calls out your name. "Up here. Then the third door on the right. My close friends are allowed upstairs. And you, I guess."

"Oh. Thank you."

She says nothing else, just gliding away and leaving you at the base of the stairs.

After a quick climb you find the door she described. It's unassuming, a standard wooden door that looks identical to all the others. You put a hand to the cold metal and push. A coolness greets your fingers as the gap opens and you let yourself inside.

The bathroom is pristine. Immaculate. Spacious. Porcelain and polished. Glass and stainless steel. There's the familiar hum of a ventilation unit set into the ceiling, the fans circling in constant rotation. To the back, a large double shower, framed by the marble walls and lit by the mood-setting hue of soft lights.

Finally, a room in this place that, to your relief, is empty.

When you've finished up you head to the sink and wash. You lean over it to study yourself in the mirror, one last touch up of your hair and a pull to straighten out the creases of your clothes.

Then the door crashes open.

Rei stumbles in with all the poise of a newborn calf. "Hey, sexy uncle. Didn't know you were in here. How is my aunt?" She laughs in a raspy slur. "What were you doing? Oh." Her finger taps against her bottom lip, trying her best to appear conspiratorial.

"Nothing, I—"

Rei continues. "Playing with yourself?" She points to the zipper you forgot to close. "Hope you think about me."

You give your answer and say, "actually, I was just doing normal toilet stuff. Nothing weird."

"Boring." She declares, slamming the door behind her. Rei ignores you as she walks over to the toilet, slipping her hand under her dress and pulling down her underwear. You're immediately heading to the door, giving her the privacy she didn't even bother to ask for. "Where are you going uncle?"

"Back to the party." You're just about to turn the doorknob when her voice hits you in the back.

"Don't go. Don't leave me all alone."

You sigh, slouching your shoulders and loosening your grip on the door. "Only if you agree to stop calling me uncle."

"Okay, okay. Promise,” she says and then she mumbles something, laughing as she does. Eventually, she speaks loud enough to hear. "Stop staring at the door. You can look at me."

You turn to find her sitting there. A small pair of panties by her ankles. A smile on her face. Her smooth thighs jutted out from the bottom of her dress, bare down to her heels.

"Thanks again," Rei says. "You saved me today."

"Happy to help." You walk towards the sink and mirror again, unsure what to do with yourself.

Luckily, Rei refuses silence. "What's going on with you and Minju?" Unluckily, she's chosen the worst topic of conversation.

"We just met. We're friends I guess."

"Just buddies," she says playfully. "Fuck buddies."

"Do you only ever think about sex?" You ask, turning away and towards your reflection. Your question is answered only with the sound of her flushing the toilet.

There's the briefest moment of silence that follows until you can hear her steps on the tiles. She walks to your side, washing her hands and staring at you in the reflection. "I do actually. Especially when I was supposed to cum five hours ago and still haven't had the chance to finish myself off."

This girl is unfiltered. It's commendable that she is so true to her desires. So bold and honest in the face of the fear of judgment.

"Or maybe it's when I'm in the same room as an incredibly hot guy and my panties are still on the floor." There's a lustful rasp to her voice now. You turn to look at her, at the full, sparkling light in her eye, and you let your gaze wander lower. You stray to her shoulder, where her dress hangs loose. The dress clung across her frame, covering her bust but leaving enough for your imagination to formulate the shape of them beneath.

"Rei..." You draw her name out to a few syllables and with it a few extra moments for your thoughts to come together. "What are you thinking?"

"What is your thing?" Her question catches you off guard. "What do you like?" Rei brings her thumb to her lips, pushing it into her mouth and sucking gently. "Do you really like getting your cock sucked? What do you want?"

Her fingers stroke your chin. Soft pads massage and caress with a teasing, tantalising touch. Her face gets closer, inch by inch, and you can smell the sweet scent of her perfume. You can hear her ragged breath as she loses control. And your heart, beating like a drum inside your chest.

"I owe you one. And I'm ready to do anything." She says it with such unashamed candour and it sets your cheeks aflame.

"Do you do this for everyone who is nice to you?" you whisper.

She shakes her head, "only the really fucking hot ones."

You're close. Your breathing is shallow. Every part of you tells you it's a bad idea, but that's what is so enticing. That's why your cock is pulsing. She reaches forward and rubs her palm gently up and down over the bulge.

She gives you a gentle wink. "Tell me what you want. What's your favourite part of me? And don't give me something sappy like my humour. Think with your cock." As she says the words she squeezes her grip on it. Her fingers slowly closing, holding and massaging. Her lips are soft, slightly parted. That adorable face. Sparkling eyes. And the taste of the words that lingers on your lips.

"You have great legs." You indulge her in an answer.

"See, now was that so hard?" She buries her hand into your trousers through the open zipper. "So what will it be? My thighs? Knees? My feet? I usually don't like when people see my feet but if you're that desperate to cum on them. They're all yours."

You drop a hand down by her side and reach to grab her leg by the thigh. "You have great thighs."

You swear the excitement on her face could light up the city. "There we go. Tell me what you want to do." She pushes her hand around in your trousers, fishing out your cock.

You lean into her ear. "I want you to wrap those beautiful thighs around my cock." You can't believe the words you're saying to her. Neither can she. The sound of her shallow breath is ragged as she runs it through her mind. She nods.

"Then I will."

Rei gently strokes you to life, massaging you until the blood begins to rush. Soon enough, you are ready, hard and hungry. Your pulse quickens with every gentle rub of her hand. You slip a hand around the back of her neck. "Not a word to anyone." Your words make her giggle and she responds with a breathless shush.

You turn her to the sink, putting her between you and it and she releases your cock. Rei spits in her hand while you're hiking her dress up over her bare ass and then she reaches behind her to cover your cock in her saliva. With one hand you guide your cock and she gasps with excitement as you rest your length between her legs, pressing and grinding.

Rei looks at you through the mirror and smirks as she pressed her legs together, closing your slick cock between her thighs. "Use me. I want to see you enjoy this."

Your arms wrap her torso. You grab a firm breast through her clothes as your other arm wraps her. Pull her closer to you. Your mouth against her ear, feeling the warmth of her, breathing in the soft scents from her perfumes, you inhale it all.

Your mouth parts and you groan with the growing sensation building inside you. Her legs squeeze tightly around you as you slip back and forth between them. The way they hold you is incredible, snug and slick. Her skin smooth and grasping.

Rei reaches between her legs, putting her delicate touch on the tip of your cock poking between her legs. Her fingers pull at you, directing your cock higher between her thighs. Before long, you feel her folds envelop the tip. As wet as ever. Rei squeezes and grinds, pushing your tip against her clit.

"I want it all," she hisses through her teeth. You grip her flesh, holding her on the edge of what she craves. Slipping between her thick thighs over and over again, refusing to drive into her cunt.

You pull at her nipples through her dress. Tease. Bite her ear. Kiss her shoulder. Run your nose up her neck. Inhale her perfume. And the most torturous thing to ever do to Rei:

Slow down.

Your thrusts between her legs become measured. Deliberate. Long, hard and powerful motions, dragging over her slit. She whimpers, "why are you making me wait?"

In the mirror her features flush, eyes clench closed and lips tremble. A flush of red flows through her skin. Her breath quickens, rasping between every uttered plea. Your dick is throbbing. Your senses electrifying. Every part of you tenses with the burning urge. Every cell and sinew wants to drive into that incredible cunt but the drumroll is exquisite.

"Do it," Rei begs. The anticipation becoming a torrent for her, as much as your own, the joy of desire and the torment of denial.

"When I'm ready," is all the answer she will get from you.

"Please. I have needed a good cock all day." Her words fill the cool room. They bounce from the hard white surfaces. Dancing to the hum of the ventilation.

"This is you saying thank you, isn't it?" you growl into her ear. "My choice. I want your tits first."

Her lips utter the words 'whatever you want, yes' a few times over. Each utterance pleading, begging; each one filled with desire. Desperate to ease the tension inside, she quickly reaches up her back and unzips her dress for you. She peels it open to reveal her bare back and the strap of her bra.

You work at her bra while she slips out of her dress. It's all so rushed. Almost clumsy. Everything is loose now, and she shakes it all off, kicking it all to the side and turning to you, completely naked. "Fuck, you're hot," you say before realising. The words slip from you, unplanned, raw, genuine.

"I know." Rei grins and then she cups her tits, two perfect handfuls. "So you like these, huh?"

You nod.

She squeezes them, flesh spilling between spread fingers. "And if I give you them, then will you fuck me?"

She pouts those soft lips that drive you wild. She arches her back and presents them for you, waiting, hands by her side. Eager. The invitation is unmistakable. You bend her backwards against the sink, arching her lower back over the marble top and then pressing your body against her. "Yes."

You lower your head and smile at her, her stiff nipple right by your lips. You blow a warm, heavy stream of air over it and she giggles softly. You don't just take her offered tits. Not yet. Instead, you kiss between them, wrapping your tongue to lick up her torso, upwards toward her collarbones. You nibble the protrusion gently with your teeth. Her breaths become short sharp puffs as her body tenses with each graze.

You run your tongue back down again, towards a nipple. You take it into your mouth, licking and then biting. Slowly pulling at her nipple with your teeth, stretching and toying, listening for her moaning, soft and suppressed, with a rising note of pleasure.

She pats at the back of your head and squirms at each pinch of your teeth. You switch nipples, wetting it in your mouth and sucking at it, allowing it to release with a popping sound, and then giving it a quick bite.

Your hands begin to travel across Rei's body—traversing and wandering in their exploration of her skin. Grabbing and feeling, always squeezing her softness with lust in one moment and adoration the next.

"Can't wait any longer,” she says in frustrated impatience. Rei strokes the back of your head, raking her nails against your scalp. She leans back, supporting herself on one arm and pushing her chest out towards your face. She closes her eyes and hums.

You think that Rei enjoys a little more biting than is conventional. Enjoying a small amount of pain with her pleasure, you know it when she moans loudly every time your teeth tug at her sensitive flesh. Her hands pull at the base of your skull and grasp at your hair. Her body moves beneath you, desperate to find any sort of friction between her legs. You can see the pleasure and pain in her expressions alternating between one another. Rei moans your name out. A hushed whisper, begging you to fuck her. To put her out of her misery.

"Patience," you tell her. The single word causing so much frustration.

She groans through gritted teeth before buckling under your teasing. Rei mutters, "Just fuck me with your big fucking cock already." Her hands desperately pull you from her chest, but you refuse. She continues her pleas; begging you to stop being so cruel; to take mercy on her; that her aching cunt can't wait another second.

She's reaching for your trousers now, unfastening them and pushing them away from your hips so they fall to your ankles.

"On your knees first."

Rei's eyes go wide at your demands.

She pouts, but the blush on her cheeks is unmistakably eager. She falls from the sink onto her knees. Rei has that look in her eyes, an appetite, and it shows as clear as day. You're holding her by the hand and pulling her as you find a seat on the side of the bath.

Rei crawls over, a naughty grin plastered across her face. She presses her palms onto your knees and parts your legs for her to take her place between them. As soon as she has a close-up of the prize, she all but licks her lips with excitement, grasping a hold of it tightly. "Oh god, it's so big," Rei's eyes light up in delight as she feels the thickness and weight. "Fuck me. Why did you keep this big, beautiful cock from me until now?"

Her fingers run up and down over it gently—just soft grazes against your skin. Soothing. Tender. When her tongue first touches the underside of your head, it sends shivers through you. Rei drags it up, sliding and caressing, all the while keeping eye contact with her fluttering, batting gaze. Then she runs the very tip across her plump, kissable lips, leaving behind a wet line before diving forward and wrapping her mouth around you.

A soft 'fuck' escapes you at the warmth of her mouth engulfing you. She smiles, pulling away and then admiring your cock with her teeth biting the flesh of her bottom lip. Rei kisses her way down the bottom of your shaft before just staring at it again. "It's so perfect. Your cock is literally a fucking work of art."

"It's going to look even better pressed between those beautiful tits," you reply to her compliment.

She takes the hint and pushes her tits towards it. "My tits love your cock already." Rei presses your cock against her nipple and pushes, teasing. "But not as much as my pussy will."

"Rei." Her eyes are lost in their new interest. You run a hand over the side of her face. The soft skin of her cheek. Pushing her hair behind an ear. Touching her lips gently with your thumb. "Will you put those amazing tits to good use? For me?" You ask as you push your thumb into her mouth, which makes her look up at you and she accepts it.

She nods her agreement.

"Good girl, Rei," you reply. Your voice is calm, smooth, and silky. The reaction you receive is everything you could hope for. Her pupils widen, her ears redden, and her face flushes. The combination of praise, and a dominant tone and touch, seems to really make her glow.

Rei obliges to the command.

Wet with her saliva, Rei's breasts wrap around your aching cock with ease. Her skin is soft and velvety. Flesh mouldable and forgiving. So warm. So smooth. Perfect.

Once your cock is settled between the swell of her breasts, Rei rocks her chest against it. A steady movement up and down; the sensual rubbing of flesh. Rei looks up at you, the hunger written plain to read across her face as she slides her tits against you. Her fingers intertwine across her tits, holding them together. She moans gently against your thumb as your cock continues to protrude from her cleavage over and over. The sounds reverberate inside her warm, wet mouth, stimulating as they tickle against your skin.

The ache inside you, the tense of muscle and flexed sinews—it builds. Pools and twists and heats in the centre of your body. Rei moans again. She talks through it too. The thumb pressing inside her mouth inhibits it only slightly. "I need it in my pussy. I would even take it in my ass right now. I need you."

Truth is, you need to fuck her just as badly now, too. "Stand." Immediately, Rei's shoulders drop as she pulls her breasts away and follows your order. "Bend over the sink."

"Finally." She's grinning when she moves. Placing her feet wide and leaning on the marble of the sink. You follow her every step.

You run a hand down her leg, gripping behind the knee and hooking it into the air, planting her leg onto the surface. She's open and so very willing. You draw your cock against her a final time, watch her contorted face in the mirror, and then slide into her.

Her eyes flash open and her jaw drops agape. A breathless silence. Now a burst of laughter broken by gasps for air. She grins and giggles and moans as you pound into her from behind. Her small hands claw against the sink, scrambling for something to hold to stabilise herself and support against the onslaught.

A hand on her hip to keep her in place, you reach the other to her neck. You grab and pull, rearing her back. Draw her flush with your body. Her soft skin against your chest. Her long hair is on your shoulder. She laughs again as you do it, sweet pleasured giggles that just don't stop.

"Harder, harder." She strains the words through the squeezing of her throat.

"Like it rough?" you spit into her ear and her lips turn in a grin.

"Like it rough." Her voice a coarse mess. Saliva runs from the corner of her mouth, tinted pink by her lipstick.

You slide your grip up from her neck, fingers along her jaw, thumb and finger pressed into her cheeks. "Fuck. You were right. Pussy so good I can see why guys struggle with you." You pull her head backwards and grind deeper into her. Tight and wet. Her cunt hugs so perfectly around your length that you worry she won't let you out.

"Wony was right. Best. Fuck. Ever." Every single thrust draws the words out into a pathetic moan, and then she laughs again and she strains to force more words. "Gonna cum."

You slip your hand back down to her throat and she grabs at your wrist, not to resist your grip or pull you free, only to reassure and to let you know what she wants. You grip and squeeze.

"Cum for me you pretty slut." Your voice is husky as your will consumes you. Her cries fill the bathroom, her ecstatic bliss heard a thousand times over as she feels her ecstasy roll through.

There is no gentle passing through her orgasm. You care not for how it plays. You don't ride the waves and slow your pace to accommodate it. Her cum spills warm around your cock. Slippery juices seep to her thighs and drip onto the floor as you keep up the relentless pace of your hips, each drive forward, piercing. Her body held against the marble, with her waist pressed against the edge. Her hands are frantic. Scrambling once more for support as you tear her apart with fervour.

"Rei?” The door opens. “Everything okay? Oh, fuck."

Liz stands in the doorway, stunned and staring. She's about to turn away and run out of the room but before she can step away, Rei speaks through her pleasure.

"Liz. Fuck." The words spill from her breathless mouth. Liz turns back to see the girl cumming again. You can see the astonishment in her gaze, unable to look away, drawn to the display of ecstasy. This time you slow and your hand slips away from her throat.

Rei squirms against the marble counter. The second wave crests and passes and this time her mind does clear. Your cock slows to a stop in her. Rei whips her head around to look at Liz.

"What the fuck?" Liz takes a step back, halfway out of the room, the door almost closing.

"Wait! Come here,” Rei calls out and Liz steps forward again. "Close the door. Quick."

Liz moves toward you and closes the door behind her. She presses herself back against it, watching in amazement as you freeze, still buried in her best friend. You were so blinded by fucking Rei that you didn't even consider stopping, but as rationality takes back over and the situation takes shape in your mind, you suddenly feel trapped under Liz's gaze. You dare not to look in her direction.

For all your tension, Rei is a complete contrast. Relaxed. The utter ease with which she just smiles, looks Liz directly in the eye and says the most casual, inappropriate things. "I'm more than okay. How are you?"

"I—" the question catches her off guard and she stammers an awkward, jolted sentence. Her eyes move to the space between you and Rei where you're still connected. She opens her mouth as if to speak but no words come out. She stutters another broken attempt. Liz eventually shakes her head and replies, "good. Not good. I mean okay. Well, good, but not because—"

She's stumbling over her words until Rei stops her. "Think we have a bit longer in us." She looks over her shoulder to you. "Not gonna cum yet, are you?"

"No," you reply. Entirely confused and a little uncomfortable—not sure exactly what is happening right now. You look back at Liz and she's staring right at you. Wide eyes, open mouth. It's not quite fear you're seeing in them, not disgust either. A cocktail of emotions playing on her face that you wish you could unpick.

"Want to join?" Rei asks. The question hangs in the air. Her tone is light and playful as if it's the most normal question in the world. She can't possibly mean that. She has to be joking. A jest for entertainment and Liz's amusement.

"Isn't this Wonyoung's...?" Liz leaves her question incomplete, letting Rei finish the thought.

"I already asked her. He's fair game." She did? When was this? Does that mean Rei planned to fuck you all along? The confusion only worsens the more you think. Your brain hurts trying to make sense of this. The absolute weirdness of it. And despite it, or rather, because of it, you find this whole thing so much... hotter.

Liz pushes herself off the door and says, "we did talk about it that one time..." She takes a step forward and then continues, "how we wanted to share a guy. But him? Here? Now?"

Liz takes another step forward and you take a tentative step back, slipping out from inside Rei and standing exposed. She gives an offended little groan of displeasure and then slips her leg down from the sink and turns to face you. Suddenly you're feeling lonely and exposed with the two girls staring at you.

"Yeah. Why not?" Rei asks Liz so casually. So blasé. Like she was suggesting what to eat for dinner and not asking Liz to join in a threesome. "And it's not like he would mind. Look how hard he is." Liz stares at the state of your cock. Twitching in the air. Lubricated with Rei.

Liz drags her eyes back to your face and asks you, "do you want me?"

As if you could ever say no. To those large round eyes. To her delicate mouth. The slender body beneath the cocktail dress. To those hips that sway as she continues to walk until she's standing next to Rei.

Rei reaches behind Liz, holding her by the ass and pushing her the final step toward you. Liz instinctively reaches, taking gentle hold of your wet cock. She's standing so close that her tits just graze against your chest. You look down slightly at the woman who's looking back up at you.

Rei asks you now, "do you want us?"

You stay paused for a moment, glancing at Rei for half a second before returning to Liz's stare. You nod gently then lean in to kiss her. The moment your mouths touch your hands begin roaming, one groping for a breast and the other to her lower back, holding her in close. Her tongue presses into you with the urgency you need and she holds you tight by the back of your neck.

You forget about Rei for a moment, giving everything to Liz. Stifling moans of your excitement into her mouth. Your hands feel over her, exploring her from hips to chest to waist—everywhere—before sliding her zipper down over her back and stopping just short of her ass.

Liz stops to catch her breath and it's the moment Rei waited for. One girl at your mouth and one at your neck, the kiss a wet mass of three people fighting with tongues and lips. A hand, presumably Liz's, strokes you gently and with a rhythm. Another on your lower back and another helping you push away Liz's dress. Rei's teeth pinch your neck and a familiar laugh rings out.

"So fucking hot," she whispers in your ear before she bites at your lobe.

Liz's dress falls free from her body, piling by her feet. You pull back for a moment. A moment to drink this beauty in. To see her stunning figure. Standing before you in heels, breasts jutted, is the image of perfection. Rei moves behind her, unclasping her bra and it joins her dress on the floor, revealing perky breasts that yearn for your touch.

Your mouth attacks her and her hands are clutching at you, gripping your head, neck, arms, anything she can as you suck a nipple into your mouth. Your hands explore over her skin. Trailing every part, learning her curves, the contours. The way they flow and mould and ripple.

"Don't hog the good parts," Rei hisses in your ear, breaking the trance Liz's tits had you caught under. Your hand and hers fight for the right to touch Liz. All while her eyes roll back from the bliss of being touched so hungrily.

Rei runs a delicate hand between Liz's legs and she tenses for a moment, sucking in a gasp. Her mouth contorts. Another gasp as Rei continues to brush over the fabric nestled between her thighs.

"Tell him what you want, Liz."

She stammers, gasping again before replying, "Want to ride. Ride his cock." She has barely taken her hand off it this whole time she was being undressed and now she rubs it a little faster. Squeezing a little tighter.

Things start to move in a bit of a blur, unsure of whose hands are on whom or whose mouth and body are pressed against yours as all three of you shuffle towards one side of the room. Somewhere through it, Rei took the lead and made sure you found yourself sitting on the lid of the toilet. Liz's underwear have long since been discarded and she's found herself perched on your thigh.

Liz wraps her arms around your neck as she straddles your leg. She's wrapping her body around you. Grinding against you. Making desperate sounds. Reaching with her mouth to find yours and planting her kisses.

Rei sits on you too, having helped off whatever remained of your clothes. She grinds too, using your other thigh. Rubbing her wet pussy on your leg, while the fingers of one hand comb and massage over your hair while her other trails her nails lightly over your skin. Her lips are soft against your shoulder. The smell of sex fills your nose. You breathe it in, finding yourself wanting.

Rei is so very dangerous to your senses. The softness of her touches. The sensual, raspy tones of her whisper in your ear. How your cock pulses with every plea.

"Keep your dick ready. We will put it to such good use." The first of many dirty promises and sweet nothing Rei whispers as the minutes draw past. She grows ever more erratic. And in contrast, Liz is controlled and measured, fucking her cunt against your leg with focused intent.

They writhe and roll their hips with the urgency of their heat. Wet, pink, and needy cunts, gliding over your skin. Desperate for friction.

"Oh Liz!" Rei moans.

"Ah! Fuck! Don't—”

Liz moves. Unsure, jolting, wracked and robbed of rhythm. It's in those moments Rei leans in for a kiss. Both girls writhe with pleasure, hands to breasts and mouths joined. It's at once an incredible sight. Incredibly erotic and exotic. The display of sensuous want. Skin aflame. Dew of their heat collected.

"Please fuck him," Rei breathes her demands through ragged and frantic breaths. Rei stands and guides, drawing Liz towards your cock, impatient and urgent, with a vice-like grip on her arm. "He is so good," she says through laboured breaths and wet pants.

With Rei's guidance, your dick finds its place between the folds. Wet and silky. Plush and sticky. The undersides of her soft, jiggling thighs press against you as she climbs to mount. So wonderfully slow the descent down your shaft.

It's with an agonisingly measured motion she takes your cock, inch by inch. She swallows every fraction. An exquisite glide. Feeling the undulating pattern of her depths as they shift and cling. Her lips drawn in a tight, silent circle. Her eyes clench shut as she lets out a long and strained exhale. Her back arches slightly, almost reaching the limits, taking you to the hilt.

"Oh Rei, fuck," she whispers, before opening her eyes and meeting yours. Lustful gazes meet for a long second and she leans forward. She keeps you there, lodged and tight for a moment longer. Holding onto it, and you. "Need a minute," she tells you through her laboured breathing.

The beat of your hearts collide in the tense moments as you wait. She is poised to make the most of the moment. Liz begins so slowly. Tentative. The slightest of rocks, cautious and experimental, to ensure herself and you of her control. With each subtle and calculated motion, the sweet clench of her tight insides squeeze.

Her forehead rests against yours as she looks down, fully in focus with the rise and fall.

"She's so good. Tell her," Rei purrs her words as she leans into her friend. "How nice does she feel?" Rei's kissing at Liz's neck between her words. Nipping at the skin while you can feel every shallow gasp Liz makes. The way she inhales each time with a deeper and harsher breath when Rei nips just so.

You barely manage to find your words, but you tell her. Whispering sweet compliments on how nice her pussy feels around your cock. You don't stop there, appreciating parts of her body as you touch them. Running your hands over her hips has you telling her how wonderful she feels under your fingertips, gripping her ass and holding tight to tell her how perfect she is. Her moans and groans fill your ears with music of lust and desire.

Rei's hands travel the expanse of Liz's body as she keeps nipping at her neck. She takes her nipples between her thumb and finger. Squeezes and twists. "So beautiful. He is so turned on by you." Her words encourage and drive Liz as she rides with greater pace and intensity. As the tempo rises, Rei grows impatient with her own needs. "Liz..." she whispers, "give me your hand."

Keeping one on your knee, Liz surrenders the other to Rei. Rei draws her friend in between her legs, "touch me while you ride, please, Liz."

"I don't know how." Her hips rise and fall, still working herself onto your dick. The words of a girl unsure.

Rei puts Liz's hand on her cunt and presses her fingers to the mound. "Yes, you do, just do it how you like it."

"Here," you say, moving your hand between Rei's legs, you guide Liz's fingers and show her how to stroke her friend, "press your fingers here. Move them in a circle. Small but quick circles."

"Mm, Liz, oh—" Rei moans through her strained attempt at words.

“And I think Rei likes it when—

“Ah! Yes!”

Liz puts so much focus on her friend that she struggles to keep riding, as much as her body craves it. She struggles for a while, riding your cock and rubbing Rei's clit. Soon her focus falters, and her pace decreases, losing rhythm as she struggles between the two.

"More Liz, more," Rei pleads.

You take hold of Liz's hips, your fingers digging deep into the flesh of her ass. You drive up into her and a whine escapes her lips. You take over and she pushes her fingers deeper inside Rei just as she wanted, pulling her closer and burying herself into her cunt. Rei melts into Liz as your cock pounds into her.

Rei puts an arm over your shoulder and holds onto you, clawing into your neck and holding you firm. "Ah. Liz... yes." You can tell it won't take Rei long like this. You've noticed how easy it seems to be to make her cum, so this should be no challenge even for Liz.

Surprisingly, without warning, Liz is the first to crumble. Without ceremony. Just a sudden gasping stammer that rattles in her chest. Every sound she makes is a whining, babbling, and messy blend of lust and carnal release. The two collapse against each other as you fuck Liz through her orgasm.

Rei lets out a frustrated groan as Liz struggles to keep fingering her through her tremors. "My clit. Please," she cries. "Here, Liz, here." Her voice is desperate and urgent, trying to guide Liz's finger back where she needed her. "No, no, don't stop." Rei's voice breaks again, desperate and waning.

Liz is limp, unresponsive, and falling into your arms. Totally consumed. Struggling to fight as her whole body seizes with euphoria. You wrap your hands around her body, shifting positions and sliding out of her, leaving her trembling on the toilet. Her body still wracking and twitching and jerking, whimpering and sobbing in post-orgasm bliss.

Rei is agitated. "Need your cock. Want it. Bad. So bad." She throws herself against your body, hands running all over until one grips your cock, still wet with Liz. Your cock twitches. "Need this cock. Fuck. This is making me so hot."

Never have you seen such hunger and need. Lust so dire and reckless. Rei has an inexhaustible libido—an insatiable appetite for sex. You are barely out of Liz's snatch and yet already Rei's is gushing for you. And who are you to deny such a good pussy another fucking?

You bend Rei over towards the hazy Liz. Rei's arms reach over her shoulders onto the wall and her legs spread apart over Liz's knees. You lean behind, ready to enter. Liz's hands brace her waist.

Rei looks at you over her shoulder with her devilish, sadistic smile. "Take me, stretch my fucking cunt. My pussy needs you." Her vulgar demands sound so good, with erotic venom in her words, and you're in her again.

"Yeah, yes. Finally..." Rei coos, as if you deprived her, waiting so patiently for Liz to finish. She pushes her ass back, swallowing you deeper. You run your hands over her skin; her perfect curves. "Mm... yes, finally! Like the first time."

You pound her with a vigour—merciless and rapid thrusts of your hips that drive her into Liz. For someone so small and seemingly delicate she is full of stamina and power, eager to meet every thrust. Your hips clap against her ass and her tongue falls out. A visage of mindless and unrepentant ecstasy. A cathartic euphoria. As your body collides, Rei is bent lower over the resting Liz.

She leads with her tongue, into Liz's mouth, the two girls sharing sloppy, messy, passionate kiss accompanied by stifled moans and Rei's signature giggle of pleasure.

Rei rises from the kiss to pant a sharp breath, but she quickly descends once more, licking up her neck and then sucking the lobe of her ear. While she's busy feasting on the side of Liz's neck, you lean further forward, both pushing in and down on Rei, but also to get your own fix of the girl beneath.

She's dazed and happy. Arms loosely over Rei, she looks up at you. Smiling. The sparkle still twinkling in her eyes. Blanketing and enshrouded with lust. "Feels good," she says weakly.

"For such a long time I've wondered if Liz tasted as good as her body looks," Rei teases Liz, giggling to herself as she playfully bites her neck.

Liz's cheeks flush an embarrassed shade. She replies through a gasped laugh, "you're always talking, saying stuff, teasing all the time." Liz fights through the nerves to manage to say, "you shouldn't..."

"But have you thought of us actually doing it?" You can feel the wickedness from her, her words are as playful as they are inciting and before Liz can give a reply, Rei is dragging her hand between Liz's legs.

She reacts with a spasm that shoots through her, her muscles tensing as if the faintest of touches sent an electric shock through her. Even the light, innocent touch of Rei's fingers has her rolling and squirming under you both as if she is having her every nerve picked apart. "No. Maybe. Once... Oh, fuck, Rei."

Liz buries into the crook of Rei's neck, as best she can anyway, as Rei still jolts back and forth from the pounding you're giving her. Rei just laughs. "Good answer."

You're still rutting into her from behind, and she is growing shaky, her own ability to support herself failing, struggling to remain upright, pushing down onto Liz. Rei's cumming again. Squeezing tighter around you, fighting harder for every bit of motion between your bodies.

Rei pulls her hand back from Liz to push you out and catch her breath, and she falls fully over Liz, causing her to slouch further in her seat and straddle her.

You pull out from Rei, still without release, and instinctively drop to one knee, pulling Liz's leg up to your waist and moving to slide into her again, even if Rei is kind of in the way.

So Liz lies back flat against the seat of the toilet, a panting Rei mounted over her, and you between her legs—sliding your length into her cunt.

"Why," Rei starts, interrupted by her short gasp. "Did I have to have such hot friends?" You grab Rei's ass and use it as an anchor as you drive into Liz. "I'm so jealous of you getting to fuck us all."

"Shouldn't be," you say between heavy breathing—the effort starting to wear. "This whole thing is a mess. All you girls.”

"You're killing me here," she giggles. "If I had a big, thick cock, I can't think of a better way to use it than that." Rei keeps giggling. Loving this whole thing. She is a ball of boundless energy and as you pound into Liz, she just can't resist touching. She cups Liz's breast in her hand and rolls her nipple between her thumb and finger. "I would love Liz here to cum around my cock."

"You're insane," Liz moans out. Her voice shaking; ruined by the joy you're pumping into her. Her eyes flutter, drifting in and out of bliss.

"I'm insane? You're the one getting pounded by a stranger while your best friend humps your body and plays with your tits." She's absolutely crass with her words and her actions. Durty. Obscene. She continues her verbal assault on a gasping and stunned Liz. "How long have you dreamed about a good, thick cock, fucking you stupid? How many times have you had to finger yourself while watching those amateur porn videos or reading those filthy stories online?"

Liz can barely speak to argue back.

"You girls could always... use a... strap-on." You tell them as your breath gets caught in your chest, you feel it coming. That tingling. A rolling rumble. You're already struggling, feeling the effects of the marathon. But your comment makes them both giggle.

Rei leans down and presses her mouth into Liz's neck. "We could..." Rei is growling now.

Liz is cumming again. Her insides constrict, and her body seizes. The ripples and clenches of her orgasmic vice are too much. You fall over her and press your forehead into Rei's back. Gasping. Panting for air. You're so close it hurts.

So you pull out, reluctantly, freeing your throbbing cock from her hold and standing. A whimpering gasp leaves her lips as her body still shakes.

Rei climbs down from Liz, kneeling in front of you. "A strap-on isn't the same as the real thing." She takes hold of your cock in her delicate touch. So softly, she whispers her words. So gently, they hang in the air with the melodious sound of her voice, sweet like honey and dripping from her lips. "Will you do a dirty girl a favour and paint her pretty face?"

The sight is beyond stunning—an angel on her knees. She rests the tip of your cock against her pursed lips and slowly jerks you. Her glimmering eyes looking up at you in expectant admiration. Her other hand squeezes her breast. She does this all with the utmost confidence that she is going to get exactly what she wants. You nod to her. Yes.

Liz slides from the seat, joining Rei on the floor, on her knees. Rei's hand continue while she shares a smile and a whisper with Liz, words of encouragement that prompt Liz to move in on you. She works her mouth against your balls, planting kisses and stealing licks.

Both girls savour the taste of your cock while they play with it. They continue until their saliva soaks your length. Your shaft glistening and dripping in their lubricant as their tongues dance along your cock.

It doesn't take you much longer until the two girls are cheek-to-cheek and gazing up into your eyes with the soft strokes of their hands. "Cum for us. Cum. Paint our faces, cover us. Cum. Do it." They beg you.

And then, release.

Hot cum pumps from the tip, erupting in thick strands. The first on Rei—a long thick rope onto her forehead, down the bridge of her nose and across her cheek. She remains remarkably poised, relishing the feeling. Then onto Liz, you catch her with a lot too, just like you did Rei and she flinches. Some into her open and ready mouth. Some on her lip and rolling down her chin. She tries to take her mouth to your cock, but Rei leans in the way and wrestles control and instead, another two shots—one splatters across Rei's lips and the next into her mouth.

Rei pulls you into her and sucks, then rolls her tongue around you. Jerking the final drops and draining you empty. When your hips cease to jolt, Rei swallows. Her mouth and face—messy. Glistening. Still smiling as she looks up at you with glee in her eyes.

Liz's slouches back, propped against the toilet. Her hand plays between her legs. Thrusting her fingers with a fast, firm pace. Chasing a climax she can only finish herself. A sight that steals your attention. The glorious scene of Liz masturbating is utterly hypnotic, the music of her moans in harmony, the euphoria consuming and overwhelming and a rarity you savour.

Another drop hangs from Rei's chin. You bring your cock and tilt it—dragging the rope of cum along Rei's lip. Into her mouth. A quiet moan as she cleans you—the feeling of a dull vibration. With a final suck, she frees you and you almost stumble over, collapsing. You catch the counter, barely.

Rei turns back to her friend and pushes in—meeting mouths. Her lips kiss the taste into Liz. Taking it off her lips and drawing it into her mouth. Her tongue snakes around Liz's before the two girls join in an intense and passionate kiss. Your cum traded between the pair—back and forth. Wet and lewd. Sloppy sounds that have you mesmerised.

Liz swallows as best she can before her strained voice breaks the trance. “This is the best. It will never be topped.” Her dainty fingers still playing with her clit as she continues to savour the experience.

"Until next weekend maybe," Rei interjects. "The three of us could make a whole night of it. Though that might ruin all other sex for us forever." Rei rises to stand, glancing herself in the mirror and reaching a finger up, drawing circles over her cheek to collect a fresh trail of your cum, pressing it to the roof of her mouth and rolling it over her tongue.

It's Liz who finds a smile first, her own soft little giggle followed by a splutter and a cough. It gets you all the same, laughing, the absurdity of this whole scenario dawning on you.

"Think you could handle us for a whole night?" Rei asks you as she stands beside you, looking into the mirror as she pulls more trails of cum into her mouth. Liz stays kneeling on the floor, and she suddenly looks so shy again. Sinking into herself, as if the flush of the lust has washed her clean.

You give a quick chuckle, "maybe not... But I would enjoy every second of trying."

"Guess it is time we all get out," Rei suggests. She looks over her shoulder and says, "and, hey Liz. You're welcome."

"Hm?"

"Your card. You fingered me. So you passed the challenge."

Now fully dressed and looking almost like you did when you first walked in, if just a little scruffier, you leave the girls in the bathroom. You doubt anyone who sees you cares, though. The music too loud, the drink too abundant and the dancing too distracting. So no one notices when you re-join the crowds and pass through the hallways looking for someone—anyone.

You still haven't seen Minju since she disappeared at the card stand, nor Wonyoung or Yujin since they walked off into the crowd. As for Gaeul, the one person who is supposed to stop you from doing stupid things, well you haven't seen her yet at all. Maybe that's why you've fucked three girls already today, Gaeul needs to put you under 24/7 watch.

"Finally found you, bro," a voice calls from your left—right on cue.

You spin, and sure enough, it's Gaeul, standing at the corner of the hallway, arms crossed and leaning against the wall with disappointment drawn over her face. She's wearing some of the highest platformed heels you've ever seen, so she almost looks tall. The dress helps too. It's long and sleek from her shoulders down to her knees. Tight to her skin and shimmering under artificial light. An array of gold sparkles and reflective surfaces, bouncing colour everywhere.

"Gaeul, hey."

"You really shouldn't have brought her, you know that?" You had hoped to have spoke to Gaeul before she saw that Minju is here, but that was never going to happen when you're busy fucking her friends. At least she doesn't know about that—yet.

Her question is rhetorical—you know that—but you shrug and answer anyway, "she insisted."

"Oh, really?" Gaeul snaps and then guides you down the hall. Right now, she doesn't sound like the girl you know. She's agitated and annoyed and you're not actually sure if it's at you or someone else. "Sometimes I wonder what goes through your mind. I don't know if it's stubbornness or stupidity bro, but are you trying to get on their bad side?"

"Is it really that bad?"

"I just don't understand you at the minute. I'm trying to help you but I don't know how when I don't know what you want. Is it Wonyoung? Yujin? This Minju person?"

or Rei? Liz, maybe?

"Gaeul. I don't know."

She stops and turns to you, holding onto your arm. "That's the problem, bro. You know I want the best for you, but if you don't know, then neither do I."

"I can't do this now."

"Fine. Enjoy the party, just do me a favour and don't fuck anyone tonight will you?"

Oops.

#rei smut #naoi rei smut #liz smut #kim jiwon smut #ive smut #m reader #male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #folie a deux #smut

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alastor-simp · 3 days

Text

"Disgusting, Aren't They?" -Alastor w/out gloves x Female Reader

❥Summary- Alastor is almost never seen without gloves adorning his hands, but one particular day, he doesn't wear them, catching your eye.

❥Tags: Alastor x female reader, claws, Alastor hands, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, adorable, seeing Alastor hands for the first time, hint of spice, a bit of a spicy end, kissing, making out, alastor is a tease.

❥Notes: Here is the story I had ask all of you if I should write so here it is. Always wanted to know what his hands looked like, since he is always wearing gloves on his hands. Enjoy:)

"Ahh! What an eventful day it has been!" Alastor announced to the residents of the hotel, as he strode into the lobby. Upon him entering the room, everyone let out a gasp. His outfit was slightly ripped at the bottom with blood splattered all over him, head to toe. His gloves were dripping wet and certain chunks of unknown anatomy was on certain parts of his hair. He still had a smile on his face, but his gums were exposed in the smile, letting everyone know he was still pissed. No one uttered a word, unless they wanted to end up like the demon that had decorated his suit in their gore. Charlie was the one to break silence: "Umm Alastor. What happened to you?" Alastor didn't respond for a bit, but then he let out a boisterous laugh. "Oh nothing of importance, my dear. Well, I am off to my quarters. I'll leave my attire out by the door for you to pick up, Niffty." He looked down at Niffty, who just smiled at him, saying "Yes Sir", before he walked up the stairs, soon disappearing from everyone.

He may have left the room, but there were still bloody footprints left from him. The silence soon broke the room, with everyone questioning what the hell just happened, except Husk as he was used to that sort of stuff. “Did you see Smiles toots? He was marinated in that sh**? Angel leaned against you, while your head was still pointed to where Alastor walked off too. "Yeah..." was your only response back as you kept thinking about what the hell happened and also if Alastor was okay. He seemed find physically, but you were worried about emotionally since he seemed more ticked off then usual. You wanted to go and talk to him, but it seemed better to wait a bit until he cooled off.

The day went by normal as usual, just without the presence of a certain deer demon. He hadn't even come down for dinner, making you a bit worried. Having come to a conclusion, you decided to head up to his room, hopefully he has calmed down by now. You were few feet away from his room, when you noticed the bloody stain on the rug next to it. Ahh, Al probably left the bloody clothes outside for Niffty to grab. You felt hesitant to even knock. You had gotten close to Alastor since you have been at the hotel, and you didn't want to break the close bond you two had built just by doing this. He made it clear not to be disturbed, but you at least wanted to make sure he was okay after today's shocking events. Tapping on the door, you awaited for a response, but received nothing. You called out: “Alastor?”, but once again you heard no sound for the other side. “Listen, I know you don’t want to be disturb, but I wanted to come and see if you were okay. Is that alright with you?”

Silence was all you got back, but then you heard the sound of the door unlocking. You heaved a sigh of relief, glad that Alastor was allowing you to come inside. Turning the knob, you walked inside and let out a small gasp at the sight of Alastor. In his room, that was split between the hotel and the pocket dimension that fused into the corner sat Alastor. He was sitting on his bed, head facing down, not looking at you. The only difference is that he was not wearing his regular suit, he was bare in front of you. His chest was colored the same tone as him, but layered with a multitude of scars. A towel was wrapped around his neck, signifying that he had just taken a bath. His legs were still clothed thankfully, as it would be a shock if he was fully naked in front of you. A flush still made its way to your cheeks as this was the first time you have ever seen him so exposed.

“I’m sure I made it aware that I didn’t want to be disturbed, my dear.” He spoke, lifting his head to peer up at you, his signature smile slightly strained on his face, along with the loud static emanating from him. You turned your head away, embarrassed: while telling Alastor that you were aware, but you still wanted to see him especially since he wasn’t present for dinner. His eyebrow arched at your little reaction, wondering why your cheeks were colored scarlet. It soon clicked for him, and he started smirking, glowing crimson eyes filling with amusement. “Something wrong, my dear?”, his static voice held a bit of smugness to it as you continued to look away from him. “N-nothings wrong. Just…um….you alright?” You looked back at him, rubbing your neck.

Alastor smile sorta dropped for a bit, before going back to normal: “Everything is splendid!” You continued to eye him before asking “Are you sure?” The smile he held became strained again and he turned his head down again. You slowly walked up to his bed, but refused to sit down unless he gave you the okay. His eyes peaked at you, observing you until he nodded his head, letting you know it was fine to sit next to him. You slowly sat down a few inches from him, since you knew about his boundaries. None of you uttered a word, just sat in pure silence. You decided to break it asking him once again if he was okay. A soft sigh left his lips as he lifted his head back up again to look at you, this time without a smile.“Had a little run-in with one of Vox’s goons when on my afternoon stroll. Their constant praddle was nothing of importance to me, and I continued to ignore them. Until that s͓͎̠̾̓͑c̢͖͇̀͘ò̺̦̪͛͘u̡̪͙̾͒̓n̪͍̠̾͛͠d̘͓̘͆̓͝r̞̼͆̚e͎̓̓̔͜͜l̞̘͚̾̿ threw an insult regarding my dear mother. After that….well, let’s just say that d͍̞͉̿̾̈́e͙̘̝͛͒̚m̺͉̿́͐͜o̞͙͋̈́͌n͔̘̞͐̈́͊ w͓͇͕̐̓͘i̝̝̝͋̓l̘̟̠̿̈́͘l͓̼͎̔̓͊ n̘͉̪͌͑͝o͔̠̔͌͛͜ l͍͓͔̐̀͝o͎̙̙̿͋n̼̟̻̓͘͠g̫̺͍͋̈́͠e͔̞̟͛͝͝r͔͍͙̈́͋̐ b̝̪͑͘͠e̪̠̺̿͋͋ s͕͉̪̈́͒͝e̻̼͔͒̓̕e͉͎̔͋̚n̢͓̞̓͌́ ö͚̻́̿͠r͓͓̼̿̿͝ h͇̻͆̀͆ë̠͓́͒̓a͖̞̝͋͝r̦̞͊͘̚d͔͙̼͛̓ f͍͚͑̀͠r̫̫͍͒͒͝o̡͇͚̓͘m̙͍̼̀͊̒ a̦̺̻͆̓̽g̠͙̓̔̽a̡͖̻͛͌̔i͎̞̝̔͑͆n̢̺͊͛͘."

The air grew thick with static, and the walls began to darken with shadows. His crimson eyes had switched into radio dials, that only appeared when he was enraged. You felt your body tensed up, as you had never seen Alastor so infuriated that he would drop his signature smile. Part of you wanted to hug him while the other wanted to respect him with his touch aversion. Slowly moving your hand, you placed it on his back, rubbing small circles on it. A loud snarl was heard next to you, his radio dialed eyes watching you. You said nothing but wore a kind smile at him. The both of you continued to stare at each other, as the static began to die down and his eyes had returned to normal. He seemed apologetic, as he knew you were only trying to provide him comfort, something he was not experienced in a long time. "Forgive me. I did not mean to frightened you." Shaking your head at him, you told him it was alright and continued to rub his back.

The both of you remained in peaceful silence for a few minutes, as your eyes stayed on Alastor, observing him. Your irises soon locked on to his hands, which made you let out a small "oh" as it was the first time you had seen his hands without gloves. Alastors ears picked up on the sound you made and looked at you, curious. He followed the direction of your eyes to his hands, then back to you. "Oh sorry, just...it’s the first time I have seen you not wearing gloves." A silent laugh let his lips, as he lifted one of his hands up, clenching and unclenching his fingers. "Ahh yes, they were in dire need of a wash." You couldn't keep your eyes off them. Hesitating, you looked up at Alastor while you fidgeted with your hands. "Can...can I observe them?" He stilled for a second at your words, not expecting you to say that. Shrugging his shoulders, he moved to face you, and extended one of his hands out. "I don't see why not."

Moving your hands, you lifted his up and began to study it. His arms stilll contained scars, but instead of his regular skin tone, they were dyed a charcoal black. At the top of his hands were long red nails that extended out. They seemed very sharp just by looking at them, His palms were big and slightly cold to the touch as you began to trace your fingers over it and the markings on them. Alastor felt goosebumps starting to appear at your soft caresses. His crimson eyes continued to look at you, observing how intrigued you looked. "Disgusting, aren't they?" Alastor voice rang out, breaking your concentration. Wait what? Disgusting? You eyed him with confusion, wondering why he said that. Alastor held a somber smile, before it enlarged to show all of his sharp teeth. "Well these hands have caused many atrocities, in hell and when I was alive. They are stained, filthy, hideous."

When Alastor continued to watch you, he was put off by your sadden expression. Slowly, you began to raise his hands, closer to your face. Leaning closer, you pressed on kiss on his fingers, causing him to jolt it shock. It didn't end there, you continued to trail kisses from his fingers to the back of his hand, before you finally stopped. Using your other hand to grab the other, you lifted them both up and placed them on your cheeks, as you smiled up at Alastor. "While it is true that you have done many unholy actions with these hands, they still are strikingly beautiful." It felt like someone one was squeezing his chest. Alastor felt his a warmness radiating from his cheeks, and he could pick up the swishing sounds from his wagging tail. What a lovable doll you are!

It happened so quick, one second you were looking at Alastor and then the next, he was in front of your face, pressing his lips against yours. Eyes shooting up, you were left stunned. Alastor was kissing you right now?! His eyes were closed, as he inched a bit closer, continued to hold your soft cheeks. His kiss was timid and unsure, showing how inexperienced he was. He bit at your lip, telling you to open your mouth. Heading his request, you loudly moaned into the kiss as your tongues began to intertwine. His lips curved a bit into a smirk, finding your sounds enticing. The both of you soon fell against his bed, with Alastor on top of you, his warm scarred body touching yours. The kiss soon broke, leaving you a panting mess. Alastor leaned up at bit, his hands moving from your cheeks to being placed on the bed, allowing himself to gaze at you. Your eyes were glazed with desire, lips wet from all the kissing, and cheeks colored scarlet. A static chuckle erupted from him, as he began to trace his fingers on your lips. "What a vexing expression. Keep looking at me like that and I won't be able to control myself." His voice had deepened, lacking his usual radio effect, causing your heart to race.

He had leaned back up, this time sitting on top of you, moving his hands to your sides. "Since you find my hands so attractive, is there anything you want me to do with them? Tell me, darling. What do you desire~?" His hands began to stroke your sides, causing you to gasp. They traveled from your sides, to your belly, then arriving at your chest, giving the soft mounds a squeeze. Gasping out a moan, you called out his name. Alastor still held a devilish smirk, eyes full of lust as he tilted his head, waiting for your answer. "Darlingggggg~? I'm waitingggggggg~." Singing out to you, he continued his ministrations, causing you to moan. Biting your lip, you felt embarrassed to tell him what you wanted. "touch me", was what you whispered out. "Louder, my dear." Alastor expression was filled with mischief. You knew he heard you, but he wanted to keep tormenting you. "Touch me, Alastor." you said again a bit louder. Alastor chuckled, leaning down again to his original position on top of you, one hand place on the bed to hold himself up. "Where exactly? Apologies, my dear, but you weren't very clear with your directions." Rolling your eyes, you looked away from him, telling him he knew where.

"There are many places my hands could be, darling. Do you prefer them here?" His hand moved to your chest, squeezing it while his nail traced the little nub. You moan again, looking back at Alastor. "Or here?" His hand traveled now to your thigh, giving it a pinch. "Come now, my sweet. Tell me where? He was driving you insane. Your mind was in disarray from the pleasurable sensations as he continued to mess with your body. "Everywhere, Al! Touch me all over please!" A static laugh filled the air, as his crimson eyes eyed you hungrily. His hands soon returned back to your cheeks, as he leaned down, face in front of yours. "Good girl." was what he whispered out, as his lips descended back into yours, giving you another mind-numbing kiss.

-END-

Tag List:

@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic

@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,

@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,

@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao

, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,

@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,

@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,

@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,

@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,

@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,

@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,

@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,

@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,

@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,

@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,

@lousypotatoes @l4zyb0n35 , @midorichoco

@lillylovesalastorsm1

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imwetforyourmom · 3 days

Note

Can you write a fluff about Matt x reader, and he invites her to film a video for his personal channel introducing the reader as his girlfriend to the fans and answering some questions about their relationship.

meet her

warnings: fluff, swearing, kissing, just very slightly suggestive

a/n: y’all, be honest, does the cover photo match? green and brown? idk 😕

a/n 2: yall I dont have instagram and dont have any idea how the qhole questions thing works, so bare w me

“my girlfriend”

“hi everyone, welcome back.” matt says, looking at the camera, his lips parted as he thinks of what to say next and how he’d like the video to go. “as you know, i made a post the other week about having a girlfriend but didnt say who she was.” he spoke, taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves before continuing.

“i’d, uh, like to introduce you all to my-“ matt took in a sharp inhale, glancing over at his girlfriend, whom was silently encouraging him. “my girlfriend.” he finishes, grabbing his girlfriends hand and bringing her into frame.

“hi!! my name is y/n.” she says, waving at the camera, her voice enthusiastic with a grin on her face. y/n has been waiting to finally announce her and matt’s relationship. she’s been waiting patiently for matt to be ready, as much as she wanted to, she’d never do such a thing without his consent.

matt fidgeted with her fingers, a nervous smile on his face. he was ready to introduce the love of his life to the internet, he was always ready. he just wanted to make sure y/n and him would last long enough for it to be okay to tell everyone. he didnt want to show everyone his girlfriend just for them to break up a week later.

and he knew y/n would never leave him. he was sure of it, she’d proved it so many times before.

another thing he was nervous about, he didnt want anyone going and bashing his girlfriend, sending death threats or doxxing her. she meant so much to him and he didnt want to risk their love, the love he’d been desiring for years.

“we’ll be answering some of your questions.” he spoke up, clearing his throat and letting go of y/ns hand. he grabbed his phone from his pocket and went to his instagram, reading the answers of the ‘questions?’ thing he put up the other day.

y/n stared down at his phone, chewing on her cheeks in order to hide the growing grin on her face. she was just so excited.

“alright,” matt said, looking up from his phone and at the camera. “first question is,” he mumbled, his eyes scanning the letters. “how long have you been together for?”

“y/n and I have been together, for about, six or seven months now, I’d say?” he said, looking over to y/n for re-assurance.

“yep! best seven months of my life.” she replied in return, balancing onto one of her legs as she stood. her legs getting slightly tired. (she was still recovering from last night)

matt noticed this and pushed his chair out some so y/n could sit on his lap easily. he grabbed his phone and looked for anothe reasonable question. as he did so, he pat his lap, inviting y/n.

y/n took the offer and gently sat on him, leaning her back into his chest and her head on his shoulder. basking in the moment, sitting with her boyfriend and answering questions about their relationship. it was so nice and comforting.

“okay, another one says, ‘have you guys dropped the L bombs yet?’” he giggled, resting his chin on y/ns shoulder.

y/n giggled along with him, a big grin on her face. “yes, we have.” she answered, their giggles dying down as they read matts phone together.

“can I read a question?” y/n asked, leaning her head to the side some, resting her forehead onto matts neck to get a better look at his phone.

“sure” matt passed his phone over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and folding his hands together on y/ns thighs.

“are you dating to marry or dating to play?” y/n spoke, her eyes widening as she realized.

matt looked over at her in surprise, a light scoff leaving his lips. “what? i’m dating to marry. why the fuck would I date to play?” he looked over at the camera, raising his eyebrows.

“I probably should proofread these questions first” y/n chuckled, her hand coming down to rest ontop of matts. gently rubbing his hand with her thumb, comforting and assuring him.

“dating to marry” y/n answered shortly, her voice trailing off as she was already scanning another question.

“alrighty, this question is good, good as in like, acceptable.” she mumbled, perking her head back up and looking at matt through the camera.

“has your girlfriend moved in?” she read, a small grin growing on her face.

“not yet, but im planning on moving in, in about a..?” she looked over to matt for an answer.

“a month or two. she needs to pack her apartment up and etc” he replied, a chuckle slipping past his lips.

“alright you guys, thats all for today. thanks for watching!” matt finished off the video, letting y/n wave bye before he grabbed the camera and screamed in the lens, hearing y/n fall into a fit of giggles.

895 words

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @dollyspsychoxo @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @mattsmad @sturn-bugz @e1ias3 @sunsetsturniolos @strniolo @sturnssmuts @simply-a-simper @stunza

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew #matt #matthew sturniolo #mollys requests

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lucabyte · 3 days

Text

Finally: The NoHats AU doodles. Plus some sprite edits.

Usually I'd let things speak for themselves and keep my chattering in the tags, but I'll ramble about my context thoughts...

So. First of all here's a link (x) to the Nohats Origin Post for those coming in and going ????.

Anyway. These doodles are not in any obvious chronological order, though Loop going from pilfered bandolier (my headcanon for how Siffrin has all those pockets) -> custom outfit made by Isabeau, is supposed to generally denote 'just after the ending' -> 'a few months down the line'.

And speaking of, Design & Characterisation notes:

Overall: NoHats is suppooooosed to have the range to not just be ULTIMATE MISERY ALL THE TIME (but if you're a major whump/angst fan. go fucking nuts.) so these are supposed to be. The steps toward overcoming and living with grief but. The Misery Is Kind Of The Punchiest Part.... Oops....

Mirabelle: Taking the lead, continuing to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. In the game proper she's already shown to, while yes, be emotionally fragile at times, be prone to trying to hold the team together. I feel she'd do the same here. It also would help that she'd presumably be medicated again? But I can't imagine her chosen-one anxieities would be super ailed by the death of her friend. I wanted to try and give her more differences? She follows the change belief after all and is thus liable to switch up her style in general... But I didn't have a strong vision for this, so. The ball is in anyone's court. Her design changes here are keeping one of Sif's safety pins a la qpr bonding earring, and has the bell pendant at Loop's (oddly pushy) suggestion.

Isabeau: Taking it. Badly. Depression mullet and beard in tow. However, you best believe he is trying real badly to hide it. Loop very much does not reveal their identity to him because What The Fuck Would That Even Do. That's Scary. but they do try to comfort him while mentally regarding him "off limits". Backs themselves into some very unfortunate corners by alluding to their unfulfilled relationship with their Fighter as a point of common ground. I don't imagine this would go super great when recontextualised later after Loop is inevitably found out. Just in general oh good god what the fuck. this is like a radioactive pit of survivor's guilt.

Bonnie: Taking it probably The Worst. This is a child. Who was already feeling guilt. This is who everyone else is trying to keep it together for. Mirabelle and Isabeau would likely be putting up far less of a front without Bonnie around. They take the hat and take on Pocket Duty. They also have slightly more sif-y hairstyle but... Don't worry about it. They'd have Nille to fall back on once she's picked back up, and Loop almost certainly attempts to redouble efforts on making them feel better but seeing as how closed-off Bonnie can already be, it'd likely be difficult. However they would probably take Loop's identity reveal best...?

Odile: Odile's design.... ! Does not seem to have changed? How odd! Well. I'm sure she's dealing with things in a regular and non-cloistered manner. I already think that a regular Postcanon Activity for Odile could be her finding out about the potential for sif/loop to translate books and thus Knowledge in their native tongue assuming that ability sticks around postgame. Something something culture can never truly be wiped out etc etc. But putting it in this context. Makes it more desperate, more of a deflection for something else.

Loop: Helpful Loop. Well. They win! I feel like the entirety of ISAT being about Siffrin's mental state means I don't need to spill much ink here? You get it I think. I can't outdo the source material man. Anyway I imagine Loop is given clothes by Isabeau before they know who they are, but after they've become genuine friends. The outfit is in genuineness, on both sides from Loop and Isa, in having the cloak be a nod in respect to Siffrin, since Loop's "shared culture" would have to come up vis a vis cultural funerary traditions. Hard to avoid divulging that one...

#and since its too blunt to put in the body of the post. yes these are all distinct calls to game events.#mirabelles endgame spoilers comment. prologue odile's 'just one thing. not the thing'. shoulder touch. observatory conversation #odiles is the least obvious because i couldnt find satisfying more direct wording. it was too clunky....#in stars and time #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #nohats au #isat au #isat loop #isat fanart #lucabyteart #isat odile #isat bonnie #isat isabeau #isat mirabelle #anyway once again . accidentally invoking the king with that fucking corset. christ. that ones on me #long post

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artbyblastweave · 2 days

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A few years ago, there was a thread on r/asksciencefiction where someone was fishing for a superhero story with an inverted Omni-Man dynamic, or a setting where Homelander's initial presentation is played straight- a setting where the Superman figure actually is the paragon of morality he's initially presented as, but no other superhero is- a situation where you've got one really competent true-blue hero standing head-and-shoulders in power above what's otherwise a complete nest of vipers.

Someone in the thread floated My Hero Academia; while I haven't read it, my understanding is that that's not really an accurate read of what's going on with Stain's neurosis about All-Might being the only "real hero," that the point of that arc is that Stain's got an insane and unreasonable standard and that taking an endorsement deal, while bad, isn't actually grounds for execution. My own contribution to the thread was Gail Simone's Welcome to Tranquility, where a major part of the backstory involved the faux Justice-League's Superman analogue having a little accident because he's the only one who thought they were morally obligated to go public with the secret life-extending macguffin that the rest of the team is using to enforce comic-book time on themselves and their loved ones; while only a couple members of the team are directly in on it, the rest are conveniently incurious. And Jupiter's Legacy gets tantalizingly close to this- The Utopian, a well-meaning stick-in-the-mud, ultimately gets blindsided and couped by his scheming brother who creates a superhero junta staffed by a Kingdom-Come-style glut of third-gen superheroes, who are framed as fundamentally self-interested because only came onto the scene after most of the situations you legitimately need a superhero to handle have been neutralized. (The rub, of course, is that the comic is also highly critical of the Utopian's intellectually incurious self-righteously 'apolitical' approach to superheroism- if for no other reason than that it left him in a position to get blindsided by a coup!) While Jupiter's Legacy gets the closest, all three of these are only loosely orbiting around the spirit of the original idea, and there's something really interesting there- particularly if the Superman figure isn't hopelessly naive in the same way as Utopian. Because first of all, if you're Metaman or Amazingman or whatever brand-name alias the writer goes with, and you really earnestly mean it, and you put together a team of all the other most powerful heroes on earth in order to pool your resources, and then with dawning horror you gradually begin to realize that everyone in the room besides yourself is a fascist or a con artist or abuser or any other variant of a kid with a magnifying glass eyeing that anthill called Earth- What the hell is your next move?

Do you just call the whole thing off? Can you trust that they'll actually go home if you call the whole thing off? I mean you've put the idea in their heads, are you sure that they aren't going to, like, start the Crime Syndicate in your absence? Do you stick around to try and enact containment, see if getting all of these people on a team makes them easier to keep on a leash? But that's functionally going to make you their enabler pretty quickly, right? Overlooking "should you kill them-" can you kill them? You're stronger than any individual one of them- are you stronger than all of them? The first time one of them really crosses a line in a way you can't ignore- will that be a one-on-one fight? Are they the kind of people capable of putting two-and-two together and pre-emptively ganging up on you if you push back too hard? Do you just start trying to get them killed, or keep them at each other's throats so they can't coordinate anything really nasty? Can you squeeze any positive moral utility out of them, or is that just a way to justify not doing the hard work of taking them down? There've been works where the conceit is to question the default assumption that Superman in specific would be a good person, and there've been works where the conceit is to question the default assumption that superheroes in general would be good people. Something to be done, I think, with questioning the default assumption that everyone Superman becomes professionally close to would be good, and to explore how he'd handle it if they weren't.

#thoughts #meta #jupiter's legacy #welcome to tranquility #superheroes #story ideas #analysis

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sirfrogsworth · 24 hours

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Dinner with Aunt Denise & Uncle Jeff A Tale of Science Fair Photography

Ever since my parents died my aunt and uncle have done their best to fill some of the hole left in my heart. It almost feels like they adopted me in a way. They check on me. They help me clean. They helped me sort through all of my parents' belongings. And from time to time they invite me over for dinner when I'm feeling up to it.

Last week I got a new invitation. I had been feeling pretty lonely as of late so I graciously accepted. Before I left I saw my camera sitting on the table and realized I had this fancy new lens which is especially suited for taking pictures of people.

I thought to myself...

"This lens has only taken pictures of bridges at sunset."

Which is cool and everything, but I don't really want my only photos to be of bridges at sunset. I like taking pictures of other things.

I didn't have any lighting equipment handy—just a single external flash. And without a solid plan for how I was going to use it, I quickly packed said flash and headed westward. As I saw the sun lowering in the sky above the highway my big photography brain had an idea...

"I should take pictures of *people* at sunset."

I needed a reflector of some kind to bounce my flash against. I thought poster board would probably suffice so I stopped at Walmart and headed to the arts and crafts area. I found these tri-fold poster board thingies that grade school kids use to display their science fair experiments.

I got 2 for $7!

What a deal!

After I arrived I asked if my aunt & uncle minded having their photo taken. My aunt said she was fine with it but warned me that no one had ever been able to take a decent photo of her.

I'm typically not one to be braggadocious, but I replied...

"Well, that's because you've never had your photo taken by ME."

I'm not sure I should have been so cocky considering my lighting equipment is typically used to display the life cycle of earthworms, baking soda volcanos, and... potato batteries—which was the delightful and totally real project I just found on Google.

Science Fair Entry from Billy, Age 10

After a delicious feast of bratwurst, salad, and non-electrified potatoes, I convinced my aunt and uncle to sit for a sunset photoshoot. They even helped me set up my science fair project.

Science Fair Entry from Froggie, Age 42

I decided to do a quick test indoors to make sure my plan would work. Jeff volunteered for my first experiment.

Without my contraption...

With my contraption...

I think my experiment was quite promising. But would my idea hold up outside during the sunset with constantly dimming conditions?

We moved everything to the backyard. The tri-fold poster board was a bit ornery regarding its uprightness and needed to be tamed. My Uncle Jeff used a large rock, some pillows, and a step ladder to keep the makeshift reflectors in place.

I started taking test photos without the flash to figure out the background exposure.

Those pesky power lines were going to need to be zapped later in Photoshop, but I was really digging the scenery.

I dialed everything in, started taking photos, and even on the little rear camera screen I felt like they were turning out well. With the sun setting the sky looked like it was on fire. But then the batteries died in my flash and I was starting to lose that fiery sky as darkness began to creep into view.

Unfortunately, all of the potatoes were in our bellies so my aunt scrambled to find regular batteries in the house.

This photoshoot had become a complete team effort with everyone doing their part to make it a success.

Surprisingly it was my Uncle Jeff was giving me some bona fide model poses. He just naturally has some sort of... resting model face. Very masculine and authentic. And my Aunt Denise is just pure sunshine manifested as a person. So I had no problems getting nice expressions from her.

So... would you like to see the pictures?

Will I get a blue ribbon on my science fair project?

Am I building up the suspense too much?

Okay, here we go...

I suppose the only validation I really need is from the person who has never had a decent photo taken of them.

Let's see the verdict.

All of those hours and hours of photography training helped me learn the problem solving skills I needed to pull off a photoshoot with seven dollars in supplies.

Take a small light source, bounce it off something larger, and you get a big light source.

And big light sources make people look snazzy in photographs.

Easy!

Are you kidding me?

I lost to the potato kid?

What kind of rigged nonsense...

#photography #long post

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mrsparrasblog · 2 days

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You're Losing Me Pt.3 POLY 141 x Reader

TW: angst, mentioned rape, mentioned drug abuse, violence, alcoholism, crying, manipulation

prev part first part. next part

Wrapped around with a blanket, you lay on the couch singing all the breakup songs you know, pathetically. You didn't talk to your friends, called in sick at work, and haven't left the apartment since it happened. The only thing you had was Winston, the Taylor Swift vinyl on repeat that Johnny gifted you, and a cheap red wine that tasted like ass. You ordered some pizza so that something else keeps you company. When the bell rang, you didn't bother to put on a nice outfit. You went out with your tangled hair, your puffy swollen eyes, and Simon's ratty t-shirt that you couldn’t bother to throw away; it just smelled like comfort to you.

You were surprised when you saw, instead of the delivery guy, Kyle in front of your house. He looked so unlike Kyle. He didn't have that cheeky smile you loved, and his clean pretty boy aesthetic was gone. His white shirt was full of blood, his jaw bruised, and your heart broke. That was your man - was.

"Do you want to collect your stuff?" You asked, it hurt you so bad to ask, but you needed to be strong. You didn't want to be like your mom who stayed with your Dad despite how often he cheated on her. You were strong and independent before you met them, you can reach this again.

"Babe, please."

"Don't do this to me, Kyle," don't make me love you, don’t make me forgive you.

"Can I see at least Winston?" He asked, and that was a thing you couldn't deny. It was his dog too after all. You remembered how you rescued him together from a dog shelter. Everyone else would have said no, but Kyle loved animals just as much as you do. So you adopted that corgi, and you can regret many things but not your loyal dog.

"Come in," you said, not bothering to apologize for the mess.

When Winston saw him, he jumped immediately on Kyle, and this made you smile for the first time in days. "What happened to your face?"

"Got in some fights around the base."

"Kyle, you never get into fights with coworkers. Look, just because we're not a thing anymore doesn’t mean you need to sabotage your own life. Things like breakups happen, and I'm sure you will find a lovely girl." Your heart ached just thinking about them with another girl, all sharing and loving how they loved you.

"Don't want anyone else."

"Kyle."

"I mean it, I love you, and not just a bit. I know you're the right one. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it. Want me to quit the military? Easy. Want to punish me? Hurt me? I don’t care. Want to never touch me again? Fine, I'll live my life without sex just to have you. Want me to marry you? Done. Why wait? Do you want me to kill that slag? I'll do it. You don’t understand it; there is no such thing as too much for you. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you."

You were too stunned to speak, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he meant every word of it. He really loved you. But how could you trust him again? And John, you knew Kyle loved John, maybe not as much as you, but you were no one to separate them. That wasn’t fair.

"Let me clean the blood from your nose, Kyle." You stood up, ignoring the things he said, and went to the bathroom, grabbing alcohol and one of Kyle's spare t-shirts, inhaling the scent as you sobbed into it.

"Love—"

"Let me clean you."

He picked you up, sitting you down at the sink, where you slowly cleaned his wounds. Your breath felt heavy every second you got near his lips.

"Tell me you don't love me, and I'll never bother you again."

"Kyle, I can't lie to you."

You cleaned him and gave him his new shirt, but you couldn’t let him leave.

"Kyle, I love you, but I love all of you so much that I can't let you choose between me and John. You love him, I know that, and it's okay. I understand."

"John didn’t cheat on you; it was Johnny."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'd never lie to you. He just knew we couldn’t live without you, and you know how selfless he is."

"I thought he cheated." You started to sob again. "I screamed at him, told him how much I hate him, and he wasn’t at fault." You felt like a monster for your feelings.

"He understands."

"How does he hold up?" You knew John was never someone who shared your feelings.

"Locked himself in the office, drinking for days, doesn’t even speak with me."

"Let me fix this."

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

John thought he was hallucinating when you went into his office with the spare key you had. It was too good to be true to see his angel again, but you weren’t real. He needed to stop drinking.

"I'm so sorry, John," you said over and over again, walking towards him, where you sat in your reserved place, on his lap, and slowly removing the glass out of his help. "I'm sorry, John. I don’t hate you, I’d never hate you."

"Cheated on you, deserve it."

"I know it was Johnny."

"Lie."

"Kyle told me."

"Oh."

"Can you forgive me, John?"

"Of course, lovely," he laled and smiled.

"Let me get you in your room, okay, and sober you up." He nodded, and you brought him to his room. You still weren’t sure what to do. Will you forgive them? Will you forgive Johnny?

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

"Lea mah room, slag," Johnny screamed at the medic. He had enough of her and her manipulative acts, how she went into his room and touched him in training. It was enough.

"Don't be so harsh; I'm your girlfriend, after all," she smiled. She was sick fucking delusional.

"Youre nae mah burd ah tellt ye this often enough," he pressed his hands together, his knuckles white from rage. If he was a worse man, he’d kill her on the spot. But he needed her to make a mistake, so there would be proof of her lying.

"Not so aggressive, Johnny, this isn’t good for our baby."

"Are you mental? There is no fucking baby. You raped me three days ago. Aren’t you supposed to be a medic and know how this shit works?"

"There will be, and then we'll be happy."

"You're sick. This will never happen."

"Oh, there will, or you know I could tell anyone how you raped me and dared to kill me after your girlfriend found out."

"No one will believe you."

"They will."

And there was a knock on the door. He left her in the room, telling her it was probably only a rookie. He was surprised when he saw you. Even though you looked broken, you were still the most precious thing in his life. He wanted to hug you, tell you the truth.

"I know it was you, Johnny," you started to cry you never thought Johnny would do such a thing to you."

"Hen, please."

You hugged him tight, which caught him by surprise, but he held you through it. "Tell me why, Johnny. Please, let me know what I did to deserve this." His heart broke with every word you said. He desperately wanted to explain to you that you could never do anything wrong in his life, but the shame ate him up. Would you understand? Would you believe him?

"Tell me you won't do it again, Johnny. Tell me you regret it, that it didn't mean a thing. I'll forgive you, please, Johnny."

"Look, hen—" But before he could finish his sentence, the medic left the room wearing only one of his shirts.

"What are you doing here? I thought you’d broken up with that bore."

You noticed the shirt, the ruffled hair, and the bracelet you gifted Johnny that she wore. "Johnny, why is she wearing your shirt? Why does she have my bracelet?"

"Love, don't believe—"

"Oh, you're not only a bore, you're also dense, aren't you?"

That was enough to finally break you. You walked away, screaming at Johnny that he should leave you alone, running into Simon on your way out.

"Luv?"

"Stay away from me, Si," and he respected your wish, giving you the time to heal you need. He finally found Johnny in a screaming match with the medic. When she saw him, she gave Johnny a peck on his cheek and left with a sly smile.

Johnny was never a man to cry until that day. He didn't know how his life went so downhill in a few days.

"Johnny?"

"Go away, Lt."

"Johnny, tell me what's wrong."

"You wouldn't believe me. No one would."

"Let me decide that. Let's get you in your room and talk." His heart broke seeing Johnny like that, and he knew whatever it was, he would fix it for him.

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rainylana · 2 days

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“It’s just a cut.” Part two!

summary: part two of “it’s just a cut.” requested by @h-ness1944

warnings: physical abuse by readers mother, heavy description of injuries including dislocated jaw, broken nose and stomach wounds, so much angst, hospitals, vomiting, this is very much slow paced and mostly internal dialogue. let me know if you want part three! sorry for the cliffhanger, but i promise part three will be worth it! if you all want it!

You would look back on it as an adult and realize that it was the most peaceful moment of your life. The only time where you truly felt calm and free from anxiety. It happened just like it did in the movies. At least it did for you. And when each day would pass, you barely remembered it as the time went on. The only thing you could for sure remember was the outline of Eddie, or rather his foggy image in the corner of your eye. If you pressed your brain hard enough, you could almost remember hearing him, but you never knew what it was that he was saying.

The only thing you could really compare it to was being in the bathtub, slipping yourself underneath the water so all you could hear was the quiet roar of your own thoughts. You weren’t sure if you saw a bright light like people usually said they did, or if your guardian angel was helping you decide whether or not to stay on Earth. It all seemed very cliche, your experience, but that’s how it happened.

You remembered how heavy your body felt when they rolled you into the hospital on the gurney, the sound of wheels turning and creaking against the floor. It was like all of your senses were heightened. You could feel every bump and dip in the floor, the ding of the nearby elevator. Everyone was yelling at each other, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Their figures were blurry, but Eddie was beside you. That much, you could make out, running with the gurney and being ignored by the emt’s and nurses. It was his curly black hair that gave him away, the white hellfire shirt that stuck out in your memory. You could remember how loud he was, and later on, you had realized he was crying, begging someone to tell him if you’d be okay.

You knew that something bad had happened, you just couldn’t remember what it was. You knew you were hurt. You couldn’t feel a thing, and you’d watched enough medical dramas to know that wasn’t a good thing. You had barely stirred, trying to move your arm that had lead you to squeal, your eyes fluttering open and closed. The feeling of something very warm was coming down your neck and with each step they all took, moved you faster and faster.

Then Eddie was gone. Everyone was gone and you were left alone in the dark.

•

Just when he thought he’d cried every tear in his body, more came. Every time he thought he was done throwing up, he’d rush to the bathroom. He was sitting outside the operating room. No patients were allowed to do so, but with how upset he was, the doctors couldn’t get him to move. Wayne had snuck back there eventually when he had arrived at the hospital.

The hallways were so dark, he had observed. Why weren’t there any damn lights on? He was sat on the floor, knees to his chest and back to the very uncomfortable wall. Tears fell down his face, cheeks swollen, red and stained with heart ache. He was visibly shaking, every nerve ending in his body completely fried.

You weren’t going to make it. He was sure of it. You were going to die and it was going to be his fault.

It had been three days since you had left his place. Neither of you had spoken since. He’d heard the sirens first, and he knew deep down that it was you and something was terribly wrong. Then he got the call from Hopper, confirming that very thought.

He didn’t know what happened. Nobody would tell him. He had demanded from everyone he laid eyes on, but not a word had come out. Not even the police officers had showed up, except for Hopper, who would periodically stop in to see if you’d made it through surgery. Not yet.

Hopper wouldn’t tell him anything, either. Soon, he’d said. It’s messy, son.

Eddie’s brain had never been so loud. Every cell and nerve ending was working overtime, thought after thought was going through his wires, possible outcomes of the night. You would wake up and forgive him. Wake up and hate him. You wouldn’t make it thought.

There wasn’t anything he could feel more than guilt. He’d abandoned you like you were nothing. He had told you he would call to avoid you getting seriously injured, was too afraid of loosing you to go through with it, and now you were in the hospital.

Your jaw was dislocated, that was the first thing. Your nose was broken and your right arm. All of that could be fixed. It was, however, the multiple wounds in your stomach that was the problem. You had been pushed down the stairs, smacking your face on the bottom step, breaking your nose and messing up your jaw in the process, before falling through the window right in front of the stairwell. You hadn’t went complete through, your body halfway outside and halfway in, your stomach directly impacted by the broken, jagged shards of glass that was causing internal bleeding.

Your mom. He’d demanded to know where she was. I’ll kill her! I’ll fuckin’ kill her! He’d banged on Hopper’s chest, sobbing like a broken little boy before he’d nearly collapsed and fainted. Wayne had showed up right as it happened, picking him up off the floor and guiding him to a more secluded spot.

All of that lead to now. Eddie stared at the same spot on the wall for almost thirty minutes, after he had counted every crack in the wall. It had taken him almost two hours. That’s how long you had been in surgery.

The door creaked open to reveal Wayne, holding two paper cups of coffee. He sighed sadly to see his nephew in the same spot, face still heavy in guilt and heart ache. He placed the cup down beside him, settling down on the floor next to him.

Wayne felt just as guilty as Eddie. The old man looked to the doors, hoping to God that you’d pull through, not just for your own sake, your father’s or your friends, but for Eddie’s. The mer idea of him loosing you? He knew that would destroy him in a way that he could never recover from.

“Ed.” Wayne looked over to his boy, shoulders heavy from tears and legs now kicked out lazily, like they were no longer attacked to his body. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Wayne knew your mom was an alcoholic. He knew she said hurtful things to you. But he didn’t know that she physically hurt you. He had been shocked to get the call from Hopper, instructing him he needed to get to the hospital to get his nephew under control.

“She made me swear.” His voice was hoarse, dead quiet. He couldn’t decide if he was more angry or guilty. Angry at you for making him stay silent? Or guilty for staying silent the moment he was free to speak? “I..I didn’t want to loose her.” But you may loose her now. His eyes teared up, glossing over once again.

“She was afraid she’d get moved to another family. Somewhere far away.” He stared at the same spot, recalling the memories of you crying in his arms. “She wanted to stay with her mom.” The last word came out hateful, full of venom.

“You know you could have told me.” Wayne said gently, trying not to cause him anymore guilt. “I thought we had an understanding? You can tell me anything, Ed.”

“I know that.” He finally shut his eyes, squeezing his fist tightly. “I know, Wayne, but I couldn’t. I was too afraid of loosing her.” He scoffed humorlessly. “And the moment I decide I can’t do it anymore, I can’t keep it a secret, I can’t do that either. Now look at her. She’s gonna fuckin’ die on me and It’s gonna be my fault!” He flung a jeweled hand out, batting at the air as he sniffled, tears rolling down his face.

“Hey,” Wayne grabbed his shoulder. “She’s going to pull through this, Ed. Have faith in er’. She’ll make it.”

He fell apart. His face crinkled up and he covered his face with his hands, coiling over and letting out a deep sob that reverberated off the hospital walls. “This is all my fault.”

Wayne wrapped a protective arm around Eddie’s shoulder. “No it’s not, buddy. It’s no one’s fault.”

“I love her so much.” His voice was muffled, face hidden in the fabric of his jean covered knees that he brought up to his chest. “I’ve lost her, Wayne. No matter what happens I’ve lost her. She’ll never speak to me again.”

Your mom was in jail. For how long she’d be he didn’t know. What he did know was that it would be a very long time before she would be free again.

“Eddie,” The old man began. “I’ve watched you two together. You’ll make it through this. She loves you, boy. You’ll be okay and so will she.”

The ache in his stomach made him breathless, the pain in his heart made him dizzy. He closed his eyes and squeezed them shut, willing his pain to go away. He hoped Wayne was right. Because loosing you was just not an option.

“I can’t.” Eddie gasped, crawling off the floor. “I can’t. I’ve got- walk, I’ve gotta talk a walk.” He tripped on his own feet, spilling his cup off coffee and cursing. Wayne had tried to follow him, but he was bolting out the door and into a new hallway.

He was choking on his own breath, hand going to hold his stomach as he coughed. He’d surely be sick again. He tried to breath deeply, but the panic that built up in his chest made him lightheaded. Once his eyes on were on a nearby trashcan, he was running, grasping at the circling object and vomiting the contents of his stomach. He’d thrown up everything already, so he was left with painful dry heaves.

“God.” He cried once he was finished. He looked around, tearful eyed and broken.

He walked until he found the chapel, the cross above the sign that hung high. It was ironic, the fact he was praying. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d prayed. He was in the front seat, hands folded over and pressed to his forehead. He begged any God that would listen to him, pleading that you would wake up. You could hate him, you could love him, either way, as long as you were okay, he’d take it.

Please. Please.

“Eddie.” Wayne had found him, placing a hand on his shoulder. It took him a moment before he looked up, and Wayne felt his heart shake. The boy was broken completely. He looked so young, so hurt. With wet, round eyes and a puffy face, his bottom lip quivered and he whimpered like he was a little boy again. He reached for his uncles arm, dropping it from the lack of energy and sobbed softly. Wayne sat beside him, pulling him to hold him close to his chest. They hadn’t hugged like that in years.

•

Your eyes were so heavy you could barely lift them, fluttering them open as best at you could. The first thing you registered was the pain in your nose, the way your jaw and teeth ached. Actually, everything hurt. You felt like you’d been hit by a train twice. You couldn’t remember anything, only the hurt you were feeling. You slowly peeled your eyes open, adjusting to the bright light of the room.

You knew it was Eddie, even thought you weren’t able to focus your eyes. You groaned, body sluggish and groggy. You felt his hands on yours, fuzzy and tingly, like you were feeling him for the first time. You could hear him, his voice sounded cloudy like he was under water. You gulped, trying to move your head. He was letting go of you, running out of the room, only to return with a doctor moments later.

Slowly, things came into focus. First it was your vision. Everything became clear, the room, the doctor. Eddie. Then you could hear the heart monitor beeping quickly, the doctors asking if you could hear them. Eddie asking if you could hear him.

Quick relief turned to panic, because everything seemed to click. Doctors were looking at you, and doctors usually meant that you were in a hospital. You whimpered, flinching when a nurse tried to touch you. You tried to speak, but your voice came was dry and hoarse, your sudden movement causing a horrible pain to shoot through your stomach.

Then it got dizzy again, your panic overwhelming you. They voices got foggier, your vision clouded, and you were out just as quickly as you had woken.

•

You’d been in and out for days. Eddie was with you every time you woke up, but it was the same every time. You didn’t know where you were. You were so groggy and confused. It scared him, but he didn’t leave you. The doctors said it was normal from the amount of anesthesia you had taken in, and that sometime it took awhile to get out of one’s system.

He was holding your hand, head laying on the blanket that covered you. He hadn’t been home since the doctor told him you would pull through. When he got the news, he fell to the floor in pieces, sobbing and thanking the universe, god, or whoever was out there, for answering his prayers.

He didn’t know what you’d say to him. Would you hate him? Blame him for what happened? What about your mom? Would you want to bail her out of jail. There was no bail. She’d be in there for a long time. Her court date hadn’t been decided yet. He wondered if you’d go and stand beside her. He hoped to god you wouldn’t.

His friends brought him clothes and food. Gareth had said hospital food wasn’t fit to feed a starving man, clapping his shoulder and giving him a plastic grocery bag full of snacks and drinks. Steve had brought him deodorant and a tooth brush, smoothing over a piece of your hair and kissing your forehead when he stopped by. Dustin had come by and cried, not knowing how to handle or process the situation.

The time finally came when you were ready to awaken fully, a few hours later when he had went to use the bathroom. You remembered everything. Falling down the stairs, breaking your nose. It was covered in gauze, a bandage holding it all in place. Your jaw ached something terrible. You had looked down at your body, hands feeling yourself to make sure you were still intact. It hurt to cry, but you couldn’t stop.

Your mom. Where was she?

“Y/n.” Eddie gasped when he opened the door, nearly dropping to the floor in a dead faint. He ran to you. “Oh, god, baby girl.” He grabbed your hands.

“What happened!” You cried. You knew, yet you asked anyways. “Eddie- what happened? Where’s my mom?”

He held your arms, a tear falling down his face as he relished in the sound of your voice. “Shh, just calm down, baby. I’ll tell you everything.”

“Mom, mom- where’s mom?” You blubbered, shaking your head through tears. “Is she dead?”

“No.” He held your shoulders, hand going to cup your cheek. “No, honey, she’s not. She’s detained, right now, okay? You need to calm down, angel. You’ll rip your stitches.”

“Stitches?” You asked confused, trying to sit up. “Why do I have stitches?”

You didn’t remember going through the window. You must have passed out. Your reunion with Eddie, however, was short lived. Once the doctors knew you were up, the police were barging in your room. Eddie stood up straight, standing at your side. You flinched, and Hopper offered an apologetic smile.

“We need to ask you some questions, y/n.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson angst #eddie angst

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headkiss · 2 days

Note

hellooo for the summer asks I was wondering about our boy Eddie and going to the beach with him and feeling insecure about our body, but ofc he’s a sweetie so he makes us feel better 🥹 just some hurt/comfort my love 🫶

thank u so so much for ur request baby!!! ily i hope this is okay <3 | 0.8k of fluff, tw for problems with body image

The sun beams harshly on your shoulders from your spot on the sand, a towel serving as the only cushion beneath you, eyes squinted behind your sunglasses.

In a rare instance, the group’s schedules have all lined up and given you the same day off, and immediately, that meant packing up Eddie’s van full to the brim with coolers and towels and more people than seats and driving to the beach.

The drive had been a blast, Steve and Eddie arguing steadily over what music to play, Robin egging them on even though she’d dance along to anything. Eddie’s hand had been a comforting weight on your thigh the entire ride.

Now, hours of sun and swims later, hair messy from the wind and water, cooler much emptier than it had been earlier, you’re watching the gang play volleyball (you say this loosely, because there’s no net nor is there an established court).

It’s fun, to be a part of a group of friends this way, to watch such an uncoordinated game where everyone is smiling and having fun despite there being competition involved.

You’re having fun, too, laughing every time Eddie trips or winks at you and says “this one’s for you” before hitting the ball in a random direction. Then, there’s the way Steve calls “mine!” every time the ball comes anywhere near his side of the ‘court,’ even when Robin was even closer, prompting them to start bickering.

So really, it should be all light and easy. A relaxing day at the beach with your favorite people. And it is, until it isn’t.

One second, you’d been smiling at the game, shifting your sunglasses off of your eyes and using them as some sort of headband instead. The next, your eyes were wandering around the beach and noticing everyone else.

Noticing the way the other people around looked. Girls brilliantly tanned in their triangle bikinis, denim shorts fitting them perfectly. Or the guys in their swim trunks and how carefree they look.

You can’t help but see everything they are that you aren’t. Or, that you don’t believe you are.

Things like this creep up on you in funny ways. Like a chill that just passes through, sudden and unavoidable. A simple thought snowballing into a hundred small ones shaped like arrows aiming towards yourself.

You shift to cross your arms over the soft of your exposed stomach, suddenly wishing you’d brought more than a tank top to cover up with.

Eddie snaps you out of your thoughts with a call of “you sure you don’t wanna join, sweetheart?”

You muster a halfhearted smile as you shake your head. “I’m okay.”

The two words are enough to tell Eddie that you aren’t exactly okay at the moment. Your smile not reaching your eyes the way it should, that line between your eyebrows worried the way it shouldn’t.

When you aren’t looking, he signals Argyle over to take his spot in the game and jogs over to you, sitting down next to you and nudging your shoulder with his. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Eds. You didn’t have to stop playing,” you say, though you can't deny that the warmth of his arm brushing yours feels nice.

“Hey, look at me,” he urges you gently, his knuckles catching your chin to nudge your face up to his. “It’s just me. You can say it.”

“It’s silly,” you shrug. Eddie pins you with a look that says ‘try me,’ and because he’s the sweet boyfriend he is and because you trust him and love him, you do. “I just- I looked around and just noticed all these people and the way they look and I’m not-”

“Sweetheart,” he stops you, his voice painfully soft. His brown eyes even more so, shining in the late afternoon sun. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m not just sayin’ that. I mean, you’ve seen the boners you give me, so…”

“Eddie,” you scrunch your nose and slap his chest lightly, though you’re fighting back a smile.

“I’m serious. Look at me compared to these people, babe. I look different, too. I’m not ripped or anything, and I’m pale as fuck. Like, ghost-level.”

You look at him, the frizzy curls framing his face and the curve of his cupid’s bow, to the tattoos dotting his skin and how his abs are just barely visible beneath the soft of his tummy. The way his cheeks and chest are a little pink from the sun. He’s perfect to you. For you.

“I think you’re pretty, Eds.”

“Well I think you’re fucking pretty, too, sweetheart. That’s my point,” his arm slings itself around your shoulders, tugging you into his side, uncaring of the heat or whether or not you’re sweaty. “Different doesn’t mean bad. It just means different. And I love you and your different, okay?”

You like the way he says it, like it’s a fact, like he’s never once thought otherwise. You like the way he trails his fingertips up and down your arm, too, like it’s an instinct.

And, well, when he dips down to kiss you all sweet and slow and sure, you think it’s the prettiest you’ve ever felt.

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sae1549 · 3 days

Text

Head canons of the companions: Sfw/// Nsfw

Word count: 1.9k

Very random head cannons for the companions + Halsin

Shadow Heart:

—-Sfw——

•If she were to get her nails done she would get stiletto nails that are black chrome.

•I feel like she would argue with you about who gets to cuddle with your shared animal.

•She used to be an emo kid.

•I could see later if she does not become shars Dark judiciary she would change her style to something with cottagecore undertones.

•She loves to give you flowers.

•She also gets over her fear of swimming and now it is an activity she looks forward to doing with you.

•Always cold.

•Would love to have kids.

-----Nsfw below-----

•She is a switch, but prefers to do the work.

•But if you are the top best, believe she expects the princess treatment.

• Her favorite body part would have to be the stomach and thighs.

•She would be willing to have an extra partner in the bedroom, but she is mostly referring to Halsin.

•She is skilled with her hands.

•She loves to listen to all the sounds that you make.

•Very good with aftercare, either getting a towel to clean any fluids or getting water and a soft blanket. So that the two of you can cuddle and relax.

Astarion:

—Sfw—

•He loves his hair being played with.

•He also loves laying on your lap when you are reading.

•He hums when he is reading or “looking into the mirror”

•He often asks you to describe his face because he cannot see it. And if you can draw he will bashfully ask if you can draw him, mostly to see how you view the way he looks.

•Once you get into a relationship he becomes a softie only to you.

•He wants to try and knit or crochet but has no idea how to.

•He likes to hold your hand, or be at least touching you all the time in one way or another.

•He loves soft blankets and will wrap himself up in one before sitting in front of the campfire.

•Does not want kids.

-----Nsfw below-----

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

•He loves the predator/prey kink. Especially if you're willing to have your blood as the reward.

•7.5 inches. (19.05 cm) All ima say

•He loves to lightly drag his fangs down your neck before he bites you.

•Thigh guy. He can appreciate all body types, but something about plush thighs makes him want to sink his teeth into them.

•He always likes seeing your face, but not opposed to other positions. He just favors seeing you.

•He is a very caring partner, always watching and adjusting what he is doing so that you are enjoying it too.

•Man is absolutely amazing with his hands.

•Overstimulation plays a big part in your sex life, he would make sure you came 3 times to every one time.

•He likes to whisper into your ear how much he loves you while deep inside you.

Karlach:

—Sfw—

•Cuddling is a key point for relaxing

•Most of the food she likes is spicy.

•She is also very into Mead, and hard liquor.

•She always looks intimidating but literally the minute she starts talking she is the sweetest. This throws off everyone when they meet her.

•Very protective of everyone in camp. But I also want to see when fights happen.

•I believe that she has lifted Astarion by the middle of his shirt when he gets a little blood thirsty.

•She can dance like it's no one's business.

•She is the biggest flirt!!!!!!

•If you are a girl she calls you “hot mama” in passing or “hottie” as a male.

•Will forget what she is talking about in the middle of a sentence.

•Works out at 5 am every day, often going with Wyll and scratch.

•Loves kids.

-----Nsfw below-----

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

•Top

•Big mommy Karlach

•She loves sweet soft sex.

•Totally an ass girl. She will spank you any chance she gets. Sexually or non-sexually.

•Her tail is sensitive and loves when you touch it.

•Same with her horns but at the base of her horns.

•She would want to cuddle with her partner after finishing.

•She would also be great with after care, checking to make sure you are okay and that she didn’t burn you. If she had she would go into full freak out mode. Getting you anything and everything she can to make sure that it heals well.

Lae’zel:

—Sfw—

•She would be elated if you brought her a sword as a gift.

•often sighing when she was not involved enough in conversation.

•She has back pain, often asking for someone to walk or crack her back.

•Stretches often.

•Likes to work out as well, but does it around 4 to avoid everyone else but will find somewhere nice to have breakfast.

•Does not like flowers.

•Will give you a massage if you are in pain, telling you that you have been working well.

•Very Jealous.

•Her best friend is the owl bear. And you of course.

•Bae’zel

•Wants kids

-----Nsfw below-----

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

•Possessive

•Very forward with what she wants.

•Rough sex all the way.

•Likes Ass. But will never outright say that.

•Likes it when you call her name.

•Likes being kissed.

•If you have a tail she likes it if you wrap your tail around her in some way.

•Low key freaky, but nothing too extreme.

•She likes to cover your mouth if you are being too loud, as she does not want anyone to hear how well you are getting off.

•She is not very good with aftercare. She will give you water though.

Gale:

—Sfw—

•ROMANTIC

•Wants to go on a picnic with you so bad.

•He prefers eating Gloves over shoes for his magical artifacts.

•When he is lost in thought, if you are also a wizard you can see bits of weave around him. Mostly circulating his head and hands.

•He loves reading and finding new books. Will even go out of his way to talk to withers to see if he knows of any more interesting books. Sometimes withers will give them to him to read. When he gets them back there are many dog eared pages. With different nice notes for Withers.

•He writes all over his books. He even gives you one that was enchanted to tell a different story that he loved of you each time the book is opened.

•He wears glasses when he gets older.

•DILF.

•Wants kids but is scared of having any thinking he wouldn't be any good at it.

-----Nsfw below----

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

•8 inches.

•Magical, loves to incorporate magic into your sex life.

•Mage hand?

•Boob man. Does not matter the size as long as he can suck on them.

•He is amazing with his hands and his mouth. Those spells are not easy to pronounce.

•Loves to slowly undress you to build up to the moment.

•Moderately horny.

•Making love to you makes him feel like you are becoming one.

•Whispers praises to you.

•Also loves to be praised.

•Never afraid to initiate the act with you, going as far as to pulling you away from the camp to enjoy eachothers company.

•Lovesssss to hear you moan, it makes him sure that he is doing everything correctly and well.

•Breeding kink. Goodnight

Wyll:

—Sfw—

Such a sweetie.

•Loves to dance, and will ask you if he may have this dance even if there is no music.

•He would go crazy for a Bard at his side.

•Man can sing. And dance what more could you ever need.

•He is charitable. Helping anyone that he can, almost pushy about it sometimes. But he is purely doing it out of kindness.

•Karlach is his bestie. They love to shit talk Mizora.

•She would love to adopt Scratch if he could. But believes he would be better off with Gale or Shadow Heart.

•Loves drinking wine. Often getting wine drunk and giving you so many kisses you could suffocate.

•When you are sleeping together he likes sleeping on the outside incase anyone comes in he can protect you and worst case scenario you can escape.

-----Nsfw below-----

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

•8.5 inches

•He would be a boob man.

•Caring, and gentle.

•Loves getting heads, but is not opposed to giving it either.

•When getting head he would get too excited and fuck the back of your throat.

•Loud, will get very embarrassed if anyone happens to hear him.

•If you were on top and used his horns as leverage he would go wild.

•His favorite position would be missionary, so he could be closer to you and hold you in his arms.

•Needs to feel needed, often will ask for intimacy. But does not always mean bone and be done. He likes to take his time and enjoy each part.

Halsin:

—Sfw—

•Literally the sweetest man.

•Want to be the rock to everyone, and loves if anyone comes to him asking for advice.

•He would become everyone's therapist, but to talk with him he will also teach each person how to whittle a figure while talking. This leads to an excess of carving statues, surprisingly Lae’zels is the best. Making an owl bear that she let Halsin keep.

•Is basically the doctor, everyone going to him when they need healing.

•Often will find an area where he can be one with nature in the morning.

•Loves to cook, always making sure to feed everyone else before himself.

•He is a lightweight drinker. And will baby a drink for hours before finishing it.

•Likes going swimming in his bear form.

•Often going into his bear form when he is sleeping.

•Take baths in nature.

•he will hand pick flowers to give to you so that you have something beautiful from mother nature.

•Chews on pencils.

•Tests your food after Orin shows up at camp, he would rather him getting hurt than you.

•Wants kids, he would be such a good father!!!!!!!!!!

-----Nsfw below-----

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

•HUGE DICK im talking 9.5-10 inches.

•He is big and he knows it. Making sure to prep you well before doing anything.

•He will split half and half when he does it in bear form or in his normal form as long as you are okay with it.

•He is a thigh man.

•He loves stretch marks, kissing them, running his finger tips over them. He just loves them so much.

•Amazing with his hands.

•Speaks in a way that's like honey dripping from his lips. (Very sweet)

•Animalistic when doing the deed.

•Freaky, and i mean like freakyyy.

•Does not care if anyone within a 10 mile radius can hear the two of you.

•Doggy style is his go to.

•He is not opposed to an extra partner in the bedroom, hell he enjoys to the fullest as well. Everyone involved is being satisfied does not matter how long it takes.

•Aftercare is top tier!!!!!!!! He is going to sit with you for a few minutes while he heals any of the wounds that may have been afflicted while everything was happening.

•He cleans you up, and sits you in his lap while he strokes your hair. Swallowing you up in his arms and chest.

•He will want to go over what happened later on after you have recovered. To see what he can improve, what you liked and what you didn’t like. Every detail is saved in the back of his mind for another time.

•Horny ass man.

————————————————————————

This was so fun to write. I’m not the best with writing about smut but I did my best.

#bg3 #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #astarion smut #astarion #lae'zel #karlach #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #halsin #bg3 shadowheart #shadowheart #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 smut #bg3 fluff #bg3 headcanons

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makethatelevenrings · 3 days

Text

Torture and Trust // S. Riley x f!reader

warnings: waterboarding, reader is physically hit and tortured, reader is threatened with sexual assault in one (1) line, canon-typical violence, swearing

A part two to this but also doesn't need to be read before this. I'm kind of making a little universe in my head but idk. We vibin'.

It was the shock of cold water smashing against your face that woke you up. To be honest, you weren’t really asleep. You had been drifting between the space between consciousness and sleep, lured there from a few nasty hits to the head and exhaustion.

It was supposed to be a simple recon mission before the rest of the team came in to aid the retrieval of an asset. It was a warehouse tucked away in the streets of Tokyo that was apparently the hub of a human trafficking ring. MI5 had tasked the military to dispatch a SpecOps team since British citizens were targeted, something that had you grumbling under your breath because it shouldn’t take someone’s fucking citizenship to determine if they needed help. Explosives would be a bad idea considering how metropolitan the area was, even if it wasn’t very busy in this area. So you and Lieutenant Riley were tasked with figuring out a solid entry point and a tally of guards.

Simon had agreed to split up so he could canvass the west side of the building and see how many guards were stationed while you took the east side. It just so happened that the second-in-command to shithead in charge himself spotted the flash of your rifle scope and the next thing you know, you were strapped to a chair in the middle of the warehouse.

Your chest heaved as you caught your breath and you let out a small laugh as you regarded the two men in front of you. Being in the SAS, you were no secret to torture. Everyone knew that one step of the training was to go through seventy-two hours of pure hell and sleep deprivation to see who broke and who didn’t. This was child’s play compared to that.

“Your swing is getting better,” you said through bloodied teeth. “But that follow through is what we need to work on.”

A hand fisted in the back of your head and shoved your forward, directly into the trough of water they had placed in front of you. Waterboarding was always an interesting exercise. You knew it was coming and had inhaled sharply, focusing your attention on anything but the air slowly leaking from your lungs as he held you in there for maybe a minute. Your thoughts drifted to other things, like the ramen you and Simon split in the safehouse the night before. It had been a few months since he grew comfortable enough with taking the mask off in front of you so now you savored the few moments you saw of his face. He seemed almost tentative without his mask, as though he was aware of how beastly his scars made him look.

You pondered over if he knew just how beautiful he was.

They yanked you back out of the water and you didn’t know what time it was. It was certainly darker than it had been when you were first nabbed from your lookout point. Certainly long enough that Simon was aware of your predicament. So that meant you were running out of time. Two in front of you, three guards behind. Your hands strained against the rope and duct tape mixture that bound your wrists and ankles to the sides of the chairs.

“Who do you work for?” the boss hissed. You blinked up at him innocently through the water that clung to your lashes and shrugged.

“Can’t a girl just chill around here? God forbid women do anything.” You braced yourself for a hit that never came. Instead, he grabbed your jaw and squeezed, forcing your teeth to clack together with a sharp jolt and a bite to your tongue, adding more blood to mix with the cuts already present from the lackluster punches delivered earlier.

“Not with that level of weaponry. Try again.”

“You got me. I’m one of Santa’s elves and he wanted to make sure you were being a good boy this year. I’d hate to let him know that-” Your words were cut off as you were shoved back into the water. Ramen. How many meals had you two shared at this point? He had even started bringing you dinner to your office since he could take his mask off there rather than in the chow hall. You wouldn’t lie, you were starting to get tired. Your lungs burned from the fight to breathe and inhale the water, but you tried to shut off the small part of your brain that sent up signals of panic.

You didn’t need to worry, you reminded yourself. Just hold on a little longer.

“If you don’t start giving me real answers, maybe I’ll let some of our clients get it out of you. They’d love that,” the boss snarled when you were let up for air. Your gut tugged uncomfortably at the implication. It was always something that you had to keep in the back of your mind. Being a woman, military or not, always meant that it was a threat held over your head, simply for existing. It was why you were so eager to destroy their whole operation.

“How about you go fuck yourself?” Gathering up the blood and spit in your mouth, you forced your tongue back and then spat the putrid mix all over his face and the pristine white collar of his shirt. Rage flickered across his face and he stood up straight.

“Get me the pliers. If she won’t talk, we’ll make sure she screams.”

Well, you mused, what was a few less nails and teeth except less maintenance?

As his little goon walked off to whatever evil lair table of doom they had set up, your ears tuned into the silence around you. The typical sounds of the city met your ears, along with…there.

“I’m afraid, boys, that you’re out of time,” you said softly. A smile tugged painfully at your swollen and cut lips but you pushed past the pain. “This has been fun, truly, but I can’t lie and say I’ll miss you.”

The boss’ hand was heavy on the back of your neck as he held you down into the water. Even through the distorted splashes and fuzziness in your mind, you could hear five audible pops. You knew what they saw in their last moments. You knew that the Ghost emerged from the shadows, steps silent despite the fact that he was more muscle than man, and you knew that these men felt fear seconds before a bullet silenced their cruel minds.

He tugged you up out of the water and you inhaled deeply, the sound harsh and grating on your sensitive ears. Blinking the water out of your eyes, you came face to face with a mask that most said elicited a bone deep terror in them.

But not you.

“Right on time,” you panted. He said nothing as he cut the bindings holding you down and inspected the way that they had rubbed some of your skin away, leaving it tender and bleeding. Simon turned to look at the leader of all of this and you realized that he didn’t kill him. The man was dragging himself towards his discarded gun on the ground, blood oozing from his ruined kneecap. Ghost stalked towards him and lifted him up and away from his weapon. He regarded the little weasel coolly and then glanced back at you. You tried to push yourself up and out of the chair but your legs shook under you and instead, you collapsed back against the metal.

“Warehouse is clear,” Soap announced as he, Gaz, and Price entered. “Christ, bonnie, you look like shite.”

“You charmer,” you muttered. Gaz rushed to your side to help you up and you were grateful for your team. Your friends.

“This him?” Price asked as he joined Simon.

“Yeah.” It was the first time he’d spoken since he entered the building. “Keep him alive. I want to be the one to interrogate him.”

If it were anyone else, Price would agree. But seeing the slight tremor in Simon’s hands where he gripped the man’s suit jacket and then looking over to where Gaz was supporting your half-conscious form, he knew that putting Simon alone in a room with the man would result in a very messy clean up.

“We’ll worry about that when we get them back to base,” Price said. “We need to get her to medical.”

Four days into your medical leave and you were growing antsy. Soap and Gaz tried to keep you entertained and Price offered you an opportunity to yell at some cadets, but you were bored. You missed moving your body more than just the walk from your room to your office to the chow hall and back. But the doctor had threatened to strap you to a bed for a week while you let your body get back to normal after, and her words were, “you got your shit rocked. I know you SpecOps bastards think you’re invincible but anyone would need to take a fucking break after being tortured.” So, here you were, sitting in your office and writing up a mission plan for another team because Price knew you were getting twitchy without anything to do.

Two knocks, sharp and perfunctory, caught your attention. You called for whoever it was to enter, but you already knew who it would be. How many times had he laid that same knock upon your door? You once said that he might as well move into your office and he had regarded it for a moment thoughtfully, as if he was genuinely considering it.

“Four days of silence from you. Thought I did something wrong,” you commented lightly as Ghost entered and shut the door behind him. He didn’t take his usual seat, the plush wheelie chair you invested in when you joined the team and realized that he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Simon dropped a tray onto your desk and then stalked away, his shoulders tense and bristling like a scared cat.

A quick glance at the time confirmed that your trap had worked. He always noticed if you missed a meal, usually because you were invested in something you were working on. Everyone had their own quirk or vice and that was yours.

He brought you beef stew over rice, a quintessential British meal that was surprisingly appetizing despite the cook’s minimal care. A shiny red apple sat beside it and, as if he read your thoughts, Simon whirled around and yanked it off of the tray. He extracted a knife from his pocket and started to carve the apple into slices that he dropped onto the tray and then turned around and began to stare at the wall once more. You simply grabbed one of the slices and chewed on it while waiting for him to speak.

“That was stupid,” his rough voice broke the silence. You scoffed and stopped chewing.

“What, getting captured? I didn’t fucking plan on it.”

“No. For not trying to escape.”

A dry, startled laugh escaped you and you scrubbed the heel of your hand over your forehead. “Five men with guns and me with nothing, tied to a chair. Yeah, fair chance of running without a bullet in the back.”

“You didn’t even try.”

“I didn’t have to. I knew you were coming.”

He turned to glare at you from behind that infamous mask and you cocked your head to the side. “That doesn’t scare me, Simon, and you know it. Take the mask off.”

He hesitated and then reached up and yanked it off, revealing the sharp line of his jaw, the scars around his mouth, and those freckles that speckled across his nose and cheeks. You could see him better and, therefore, read him better. His eyes told you he was angry. His tight jaw told you he was scared.

“You can’t just sit there and fucking die because you’re waiting for me, you can’t do that.”

“Why? You’re my teammate. I trust that you would come for me.”

“What if I hadn’t?” You shook your head at his question, at the absurdity of it. Was he hearing himself? Was he that consumed by whatever foolish notion that had somehow worked its way into his head? You pushed away from your desk and stood up so you could cross the floor to stand toe to toe with him.

“What if what if what if, fuck the what ifs, Simon. You. Wouldn’t. Leave. Me. Behind.” Each word was punctuated with a jab to his chest.

“And what if I had been injured, yeah? What then?” God, he was insufferable.

“You really mean to tell me that you wouldn’t crawl through broken glass to get to one of us.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Would you have this conversation with Soap or Gaz or Price? Then why are you so insistent about it with me? I was doing my job. Are you saying I can’t trust you? Trust my team? Because I can. I do. Don’t start telling me I shouldn’t.”

“You can. For fuck’s sake, you can.”

“You said it yourself, Simon, this job is dangerous and I knew the risks going in so I don’t know why you’re so insistent on thi-“

He tasted like nicotine and mint gum with maybe a hint of gunpowder, something so uniquely him. His lips pressed against yours with surprising gentleness and he cradled your face between his hands like you were the most precious glass figure he’d ever held. You fisted your hands in the lapels of his uniform jacket and sank into his touch. His fingers traced the skin of your cheeks, careful to not irritate the cuts you sustained days prior, and down to cup the back of your neck to draw you closer. A soft whimper escaped you at the sensation of his strong body pressing against yours.

You could easily hold your own in a fight, but the knowledge that this Adonis of a man was by your side through the hell of war was a comfort.

You needed to breathe but it wasn’t the painful reminder like it was when being tortured. His hands slid from your neck to cradling your jaw as you pulled away, settling back down on your heels.

“Don’t make me bury you,” he whispered, his forehead still pressed against yours.

You nodded, too dazed to say anything noteworthy. His thumbs stroked over your jaw and you blinked up at him.

“Was that a one time thing to shut me up or…”

“Fuckin’ insufferable, you are,” he grunted but leaned down to kiss you sweetly. There wasn’t much you could associate with Simon Riley and being sweet, but the tenderness in his touch made you want to hold him and keep him away from the world that had hurt him.

You felt his fingers brush against a nasty bruise on your jaw from a well aimed hit and saw his eyes darken.

“Did you question him already?”

“We’ve got a list of buyers that MI6 and Laswell are confirming right now,” he affirmed. Good. The mission was a success then.

“And how did you get this information?” you asked.

You met the gaze of the Ghost and didn’t flinch. He chuckled low and deep in his chest and tilted your chin up so he could see one of the cuts better.

“I did everything he did to you,” he said fiercely. "But I made sure it was permanent."

You moved your hand up to tangle with the short hair at the base of his neck and pressed your lips against his. Pulling back so just a small gap separated you, you murmured out a single sentence.

"I trusted you would."

#simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #cod imagine #cod x reader

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liveontelevision · 2 days

Note

I saw someone do headcanons on Lucifer and I know you'd write it perfectly. They basically said that if you were to ignore him, he'd practically BEG and WHINE like a bitch to have you talk to him. Even if it's telling him he's pathetic. As long as he hears your voice.

Ofc don't feel pressured to do this if you're busy or anything else, Ily🫶🏻🫶🏻 keep up the great work! :]

OKAY MORE SMUT (seriously, mdni 18+)

Sorry this one took forever but I'm prettyyy sure it's worth it. Let's just say this is Lucifer discovering some new things about himself :D

And ILY THANKS FOR THE REQUEST BBG

Ignorance is Bliss | Lucifer x Reader

♡♡♡

Becoming comfortable with the King of Hell as his partner was easy. He made sure to cater to all your needs and give you everything you asked for. Overall, Lucifer was a sweetheart and a gentleman. And this was especially the case in bed. Considering his immense powers, he was giddy to fulfill any of your fantasies you'd have, no matter how bizarre. After being with him for long enough, fantasies dissolved into curiosities. Some nights became spicing things up in the bedroom in ways that you'd never consider, just to see how much you could handle. Now? you wanted to see how much he could handle.

Neither of you were comfortable with bringing intimacy to the public, not without proper care, at least. But what if you could work him up in a way only you knew about? Tease him throughout the day? How desperate could you make him without touching him? You couldn't recall where you picked up this idea, maybe somewhere online at some point. Knowing how deeply devoted he was to you, he was sure to hold a great reaction to this.

You were together when the hotel was renovated, so it was an easy transition for you. Everyone already aware of your relationship and loving you in turn made your afterlife seem like less of a punishment.

His top priority was your comfort when you both moved. He made sure to be close to you in group settings, keeping a hand on you at almost all times. Whether that be a hand on your thigh or the small of your back, or simply having his fingers intertwined in yours, it felt like a relief for both of you.

But with this little act you were pulling, you would lean away from his touch, and make excuses to disappear for the afternoon. Or in the halls, where he'd usually greet you with a quick kiss or I love you, you'd pull out your phone as you approached him, or simply smiled with your eyes barely looking his direction. He would swear, if anyone asked, that this wasn't bugging him one bit. Not. At. All. You were all his at the end of the day, you could treat him however you want and he'd submit. He's fine. He's acting fine.

When it came to the hotel, there weren't many demons jumping at the chance of redemption in the beginning, so some nights turned into drinks, games, and music. You felt so incredibly lucky to be a part of this family, your eyes scanning across the room and taking in just the pure enjoyment of everyone around you. The center of it all tonight was Lucifer. He was going on about some fantastical story that involved a circus in some other ring of Hell, that then evolved into sharing baby photos of Charlie. His eyes always sparkled when he would talk about his daughter. You loved her too, of course, but your heart always fluttered when his admiration would show.

Still, you had that little experiment to play with tonight. As Lucifer went on about his stories, either entertaining demons with their content or his ridiculous retellings, everyone was drawn in. Not to mention, he was drunk and was acting like a fool, so he was even entertaining Alastor. With one foot on the barstool and the other propped on the counter, he acted out some ridiculous story that you paid no mind to. In fact, you made it a point to not react to anything, despite how intense he was becoming. You'd look down at your phone as he spoke. Or you'd start some random conversation with Husk, who really could care less, but he at least responded to you.

Keeping your eyes off of him was a challenge, but you could tell he was trying to get your attention when he'd brag about something. With no response, he would stutter mid-sentence, then change the topic after not getting the reaction he wanted out of you. With each ignorant glance, he took a swig of his drink.

He was seated after that, being scolded for scuffing the tables with his heels. That's when the ridiculous jokes began. You loved his jokes! You could listen to them all day, even laughing when he told you the same joke over and over. But not tonight, you had to remind yourself. You bit your tongue and sucked in your lips to hide any smile or laughter that might pass through. Still avoiding looking in his direction entirely, Lucifer was suddenly silenced. You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, then back down to your screen, mindlessly scrolling through essentially nothing. Charlie was quick to distract him with a story, he was nodding along and smiling as best he could for her. The party dwindled, leaving you, Lucifer and Husk.

“I-uh.. think our royal highness has had enough. You should take him to bed, kid.” Husk finally draws your attention to Lucifer, who has laid his head on the countertop, incoherently mumbling. You sigh and nod, taking his drink from his hand and rising to your feet. Just barely touching his shoulder, he immediately straightens his posture.

“Good call, kitty!” He had a habit of calling Husk that when he wasn't entirely there, it made both of you cringe, “Bedtime, my love?” He takes a hold of your hand in both of his and you have to remind yourself this is just for fun. The endgame has to be worth it. You pull away, already walking through the portal he had created when he was talking. He looked at you as you stood in your shared room, still seated at the bar. Finally turning, you sigh and place your hands on your hips.

“C’mon, Lucifer.” You said absentmindedly, using a beckoning finger to draw him in. He eagerly jumped from his seat following you in, even with his chest aching. You didn't normally use his name. Usually it was darling, or my love, or good boy if he was acting accordingly. He takes a hold of your arm as the portal shuts, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then running small pecks along the length of your arm, stopping at the start of your shoulder. You let out a small, almost nervous sounding chuckle, before reeling back.

“Didn't see you around the hotel today, darling. Did you do anything fun?” Lucifer sways as he speaks. Maybe small talk would help? He was trying his hardest to act casual and keep a clear conscience considering how much alcohol he’s had at this point. You shake your head, pulling your top off. You decide to sort through your clothes long enough to let Lucifer catch the sight of you bent at the hips, rummaging through a dresser drawer while topless. You could hear him gulp. He starts the same way, but struggles with the buttons on his vest.

“L-love, I might need-” his intoxication is clear in his voice at this point. After throwing on some sort of silky slip, you sigh and turn your attention to him. Looking down and fiddling with the buttons, he begins to lose his balance and finds himself leaning against a wall for stability. You approach him silently, and easily undo each of his buttons. You'd be lying if this alone wasn't making your stomach flutter. Even then, it was easy to keep your cool after seeing that he was clearly enjoying this too much. You notice his labored breathing as he braces his arms against the wall, allowing you to run your hands across his bare chest and slipping his shirt and vest to the ground with some maneuvering. You keep your hands at his hips for a moment, he lifted his pelvis away from the wall, maybe hoping for some kind of friction. You were lingering barely an inch away from his lips. Hearing the smallest whimper seemed to remind you of your mission, so you quickly pulled away.

“Good night, Lucifer~” just that sentence alone sent him spinning. Your lips so close to him and your voice so smooth, he was beginning to enjoy the sound of his name in your mouth.

More. He needs more.

As you crawled under the covers, you made it a point to hum and moan as you stretched and settled in. Pulling your phone back up to your face, you barely had time to look at anything before a clawed hand had slowly pushed your device down, revealing a very red-faced Lucifer.

“Is something wrong, love? Can I.. help you?” He was genuinely worried. You almost felt guilty at that moment. With a final sigh, you set your phone aside and cupped his hot to the touch cheek in your hand. He immediately let the weight of his head fall into your hands, humming contently at the long overdue contact. Still, you shake your head in response to him, keeping your lips sealed. His lip finally starts to quiver and he lets out a shaky breath.

“Please, I need your voice, love.. I miss it- I miss you.” He almost breaks you, so you decide to reward him for this display at least. You silently press a kiss against his eager lips. He's ready to pull you in and ravish you with that alone, he’d do anything to hear your voice. You pull away. He tries making connections in his foggy mind, tracing through the past few days to see if there was anything he might’ve done for you to be this cruel to him. He can't think of any wrong doings, but.. he'll do anything.

“P-please? darling?” He stammers out, continuing to crawl towards you and sitting prettily on your lap. The view itself drove you mad. You could keep your lips sealed, but you couldn't prevent the blush becoming apparent across your cheeks. He hums, satisfied with this reaction at least.

“I don't know what's going on with you, but.. I love you.” Oh, shit. “.. I love you~” He repeats.

You keep your eyes away from him. This one was a struggle.

“T-That’s fine, don't tell me about your day.. o-or laugh at my jokes, but, darling-” he turns your head to face him, a hand lightly bringing you forward by your chin, you notice his eyes glowing. “I love you.”

…

Fine.

“I love you, too.” You said it quietly, a hint of defeat in your tone. He immediately perks up, shifting his grasp on your chin to thumb at your jaw, nearly encompassing your throat with his hand. Closing the already very small gap between your lips, he eagerly explores your mouth with his forked tongue. You yelp into his lips in surprise, before pushing him away carefully, seeing how much of a mess you've made him from just that phrase.

“Lucifer, that wasn't very nice, was it? You have to ask.” You said sternly, sitting up to rest your back on the headboard and pulling him with you to keep him seated on your thighs.

“W-Wha.. Ask? To kiss you? Well that seems.. rather…” He questions with a nervous laughter, waiting for the punchline. You only nod your head in agreement.

“Well.. can I kiss you, then..?” He asks awkwardly. It was cute enough, But this wasn't your original vision.

“Mmmm- no.” Making a big show out of tapping your chin and letting your eyes wander around the room, you finally look back at him.

“What? Oh- um.. please?” He clarifies, a now nervous smile present on his face.

“Please, what?” You start running your hands across his abdomen, letting them interlock behind his back and pulling him just a bit closer.

“C-can I kiss you.. please..?” You thought he'd be agitated at this point, but his voice is dripping with desperation. He likes it. You see his hips shifting just above your thighs.

“Hm. Maybe.. I just don't think you want it enough, my love.” You say sweetly, pouting as if you felt any remorse. You ran your hands up his chest, then back down his sides, brushing your fingers just slightly below his belt. He huffs.

“Sweetheart! I-I do want it! please..? I want you, p-please..” He finally moans out, panting heavily only from your hands along his bare skin. You couldn't help but smile, and finally give him what he wants. With a gentle kiss onto his lips, it's clear that he's shaking with anticipation. He wasn't jumping you like before or taking the lead to suffice his own desires. It's as if he was waiting for permission. You weren't going to give in that easily, though.

You pulled away after that single kiss, looking at him like you had just asked a question and were waiting for a proper response. Finally catching his breath, he braces himself up by keeping his hands on your shoulders. He looks at you with the sweetest puppy eyes, shifting his weight on his knees to ease the growing discomfort pressed in his pants.

“More, my love.. I need more- I-I need you to-” He's still rambling. You hum, letting the hand that had been sitting on his hip palm at the bulge in his pants. You learn forward, pressing your lips against his skin and running your tongue up his neck. He shivers, the sudden sensations after being ignored for so long already forces a pathetic sound from him, music to your ears. Your kisses become sloppy, and your little nips will surely bruise and shine by the next morning.

“I-I want- ahh~” He’s keeping up with it? You thought for sure this little game of yours had ended. You won and you're giving him the attention he finally needs, yet he's still begging for you? “talk to me.. darling-” he chokes out, moving his hands that had been tightly gripping your shoulders to cup your cheeks. You were pulled back by his touch, a slightly shocked expression on your face. “Please.” His eyes were brimming with tears. A single line of golden blood and saliva dripped from his mouth from biting a little too hard on his lip, in an attempt to keep his noises at bay. You moved your hands away from his buldge, which had accumulated a wet spot onto his trousers, then went back to trailing your fingers across his skin again.

“Okay.” You respond. He perks up at your acceptance, the little sparkle in his eyes brings a smile to your face. “Since you asked so nicely.” you said sweetly, “So.. how badly did you miss me? Only a few days like this and you’re already a mess.. did you miss our little conversations? My voice?” You question softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek to wipe away some stressed tears that had fallen. He nods, holding onto your hand and burying his cheek into your palm.

“-My touch?” You massage his hip, letting your hand drift closer to the clasps on his pants. He nodded again, much more eagerly this time. “Hm. Good.” with one final kiss to his lips, you push him to the side, swapping your positions, to where you were hovering over him with your arms caging him in. He barely has time to process the quick switch, before feeling your hands tug his pants. He's moaning at the sensation alone, holding onto whatever he could find, gripping your wrist in one hand and balling up the sheets in his other.

You linger above him, your lips just above his. You could feel him panting heavily against you, even before touching him. You'd normally be passionately entangled at this point, But here, you got the chance to see his face. You were enjoying taking your time with this one.

“You're being such a good boy for me.. you're doing so well.” Your eyes flutter shut to capture him in another heavy kiss, and you reach unto his pants, planning to slowly relieve his stress. A sudden request leaves his mouth, stopping you for a moment.

“N-no..! Nono.. love, my name. Use my name- please..” He's shaking his head, finally mustering the courage to make his request. Another new development. God, he was perfect. You move to his jaw, pressing kisses up to his ear before breathing heavily against it.

“Lucifer-” you finally say. He lets out a pathetic whimper, clamping his grip down onto your wrist and bucking his hips into your sudden, yet tantalizingly slow, palming. “You're doing so good for me, Lucifer. My Lucifer. My sweet, Luci~” you mutter into his skin, beginning to pump your hand a bit faster. He is doing so good for you, afterall, he deserves it.

This wasn't the only game you wanted to play tonight. you wanted to fully take care of your poor neglected king after all you've put him through. After toying with him for long enough, edging him from release each time, you finally let him rest. You pull away, after bringing him to the brink and tearing him away each time, you were reveling in his pretty tears. All the senses you were enrapturing suddenly put to a halt, forced him to look at you desperately. You fully dismount him, leaving him nude under your gaze. Slightly embarrassed, he pulls his legs together. You rest your hands gently on the top of knees.

“I’ll need both tonight, Luci.” You say casually. This was something you've tried before, and it was definitely due for a second round. You felt he needed the extra love. He nodded, his face completely heating up. walking your fingers across his legs and helping him take his trousers completely off, you were treated with the pretty sight of his already soaked pussy, that sat quite nicely below his already overstimulated cock. The combination of his two sexes was enough to drive a whimper even from you. You quickly dip down, your own desperation meeting his. After bringing him to the brink beforehand but not letting him finish, it wasn't long before he was squirming and whimpering under your touch.

Even with all that, he was still begging you for more. Drunk off his juices already, you ran your tongue up from his folds, flicking at his clit, then sending a heated trail right up to the head of his cock. he arches his back into the full exposure, and you have to keep your hands on his thighs to keep his legs from shutting. The agonizing moans and gasps he was letting out only made you want to hear more. Hastily pushing three fingers into his entrance, his voice cracked out some resemblance of your name. He doesn't use his other sex often, so when you get the chance to eat your fill, he's almost always struggling to keep any composure. pumping his cock in one hand, you skillfully pump and curl your fingers into him with the other, all the while maneuvering your tongue and lips to suction onto his clit.

“Mm-! I-I can't- ahha- take… anymore- m-mmy love-” He's stammering. You pull away for a moment to let out a single phrase,

“What do you say, Lucifer?” Before continuing your brutal overstimulation. Only hearing more whimpers, you slowed your motions, waiting for a proper response. You only speed up your movements, after keeping your thumb lightly pressed against the top of his head.

“P-Please-” he shoots his head back into the pillows, his legs already shaking. “Please, can I-I-” You hum against him, sending a mild vibration that still made a big impact, before lifting your thumb just slightly.

“You may, Lucifer.” You run your tongue across his entirety again, enclosing his cock into your mouth and taking in his final thrusts.

Still whimpering and gasping, you continue to bob your head, moving slow circles across his clit, and causing his body to fully tremor beneath you.

You finally sit up, enjoying the view beneath you, while wiping away anything that you didn't manage to already swallow. Even with his eyes closed from the pure exhaustion, he's muttering your name under his breath. You still don't know how you managed to get this lucky, so you appreciate his drunken appearance for a moment longer before cleaning him up and eventually settling him under the covers. You hold him tight to your chest, your limbs intertwined. Even with immense angelic power, he returns your embrace weakly, with shaky arms.

“I love you, Lucifer.” You hum, pressing a kiss onto his forehead while brushing some hair from his face. He's still catching his breath, “Luci-” you say just as sweetly. He barely opens his eyes to meet your gaze, still silent. With a gentle grip on his chin, you pull him upwards to fully face you. “I love you~” You repeat.

“Mmn- love you.. dear…” He grumbles, still clearly dazed from the events of the night. Running your thumb along his lower lip, you muffle his tired moan with a kiss, before letting him rest his chin comfortably against your chest. You’d say your little experiment was a success. And you're sure Lucifer learned a lesson along the way; He has to ask for what he wants.

♡♡♡

Hope you like intersex lucifer bc I recently discovered I LOVE INTERSEX LUCIFER

More requests and the next part to Suffer is comin' up soon 🫶

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garfunklefield · 3 days

Note

HIII❤️can you write sukuna x reader with narcolepsy🙏

I’m Gon’ Talk You Thru It!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Ryomen Sukuna Warnings: established relationship, soft sukuna, consensual somnophilia, oral sex [female receiving], vaginal sex, creampie, this isn't realistic at all IM SORRY Word count: 1594 DESC: Your boyfriend battles your narcolepsy!

This was such a creative ask, thanks!!

The first time it happened, he genuinely thought you died. You’d think being in a committed two-month relationship would make you apt to tell your boyfriend you had narcolepsy, but it slipped your mind. Ryomen just sat there momentarily as you drifted to sleep, first thinking you were joking. Then he called your name, then again, then again. You didn’t wake up. He grabbed your shoulders and prepared to drag you to the ER himself when you let out a breath and began to snore. Oh. You didn’t die. Still, you confused and scared that man half to death. After doing one Google search he concluded everyone just falls asleep mid-sentence at some point in their life, right?

Once you did wake up though, you told him about it. You didn’t give him many details just, that you fall asleep sometimes and it’s tough to wake you from that kind of sleep. Sukuna didn’t have many questions, which brings us to the current picture.

Your boyfriend was balls-deep in your wetness, sending mewls of pleasure from your opened mouth. He was pounding you with no sense of how rough he was, giving you all he had. It was hot and sticky. His cock clung to your walls, getting stuck from how you clenched around him. He fucked you good, but never like this. Something was different. Maybe it was that small little skirt you wore or that new perfume. But Ryomen couldn’t keep his hands off of you. He groaned into your ear, hips thrusting against your own.

His hands were groping any part of you that he could grab, while yours were scratching against his back, “R-Ryo..” You whined, leaning your head back, “F-mm sh..shit.. F-fuck.. I’m gonna…” You dragged out the last syllable, bringing your face closer to his. He could see the pleasure building in your features and he loved pleasing you like that. He was the only one who could fuck you this good.

You had met Ryomen Sukuna at college, he was on your track team. The two of you never spoke, until you were paired for a partner race. He was notorious for being loud and menacing, which he was. You tried to switch out with your coach, but he wouldn’t let you. So, you stuck it out. In doing so, you got to know him better and saw Ryomen wasn’t that scary, once you peeled some layers back. He was competitive, a fire lighting inside him when you won the last half of the race. His cheers were loud and they made you realize he wasn’t too bad. Maybe that’s why you gave him your number, and maybe you developed feelings. It was slow, but your relationship grew strong.

The only thing was, in being with him for a few months, your narcolepsy had never interfered with your sex life. You were on medicine, so your fainting spells happened rarely. But today, you had been more tired than normal. You didn’t say no when Ryomen initiated, even when you started to feel one coming on.

Your grip tightened on his shoulders, “I’m.. I..” But then your eyes rolled back and you laid limply against the bed. It took your boyfriend a moment to register you had fallen asleep, or more like passed out, underneath him.

He slowed his thrusts to a stop and slowly leaned back, resting on his knees, dick deep inside your pussy, “Hm.” The man just sat there for a moment, debating exactly what the hell to do.

You had told him what to do in case this had ever happened, but he wasn’t sure. Yeah, he was a scary big man, but he wouldn’t go past your boundaries. Typically, he’d ask before ever laying a finger on your lovely form, that’s why consensual somnophilia took him a second to get adjusted to. You told him it was okay, in fact, you encouraged it. He had your word it would be okay, but he still hesitated. It took Ryomen another minute of debating before he sighed and got back into position, laying his front against you and thrusting into your pussy. Still wet, aching for him. You were tight, clenching around his cock as he slowly pushed himself in. Warm, sticky, perfect. He let out an involuntary moan and ground his hips to the sensation of your cunt swallowing him whole.

“F-fuck,” he whispered, “Mm..” His voice was gruff against the squelches from your pussy. You lay there, mouth slightly open as he fucked into you. You looked so pretty and helpless, lying there without moving. Ryomen trailed his right hand up to your cheek, cupping it gently. He was never the type to be vulnerable, or even gentle, especially when it came to sex. But, the way you just took it, laid there, it elicited something deep within him. A fire, something burning in his stomach. Your back arched to the sensation as he hit your pretty G-spot. He knew how to fuck you so well, making your body react without you even being aware.

Defenseless. Helpless. That’s what you were in that moment. And Ryomen had never felt more connected to you. Something about feeling you, holding you close, making you pleasured even when you were unconscious, it was hot. He could feel your body reacting, almost in a primal and instinctual way. That’s what was beginning to send him over the edge. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding as he began to feel himself fall apart. You didn’t wake up, not even when he came into you, thrusting in spurts of cum from his tip. You moaned, mouth opening to make a small O-shape before it closed and you let out a small snore.

Sukuna continued to push into you, longing his orgasm as much as he possibly could. Once it was done, and all he could do was feel a tickling sensitivity down his shaft, he pulled out. You were still asleep. One part of him was offended he didn’t fuck you good enough that you’d wake up, but the other was thrilled. He could continue to do things to your body until you woke, maybe even mid-orgasm if he was good enough. He liked that control, being able to touch you in any way he wanted. However, he only stayed within the bounds of what you two had agreed on.

Your boyfriend pulled out, groaning at the sensation. Typically, he’d wait and let his cum seep out of your tight hole, then eat you out. But the fire was still burning hot. Besides, he didn’t mind the taste of his cum. Ryomen knelt, face to face with your pretty pussy. One hand hovered over your clit, while the other spread apart your folds. His mouth connected with your cunt and he could taste himself on his cum. It seeped into his mouth and rolled along his tongue, his tongue that flicked around your cunt. You inhaled sharply and groaned softly, moving your hips to the sensation. Unsuspecting and totally aroused.

One of his fingers lightly rubbed on your clitoris, making your moans louder. You were being so good for him, it was making him strain against the bed. His hips started to rut into the mattress, giving Sukuna some sort of stimulation. Your gasps and light whines were doing things to him that they hadn’t done before. Maybe it was the fact you couldn’t control how your body reacted to the pleasure, or the fact it was his pleasure that was making you sound so cute. Either way, he could tell you were becoming close. Your breaths got quicker, your moans louder, and your hips ground harder.

“Ry..Ryom..” You suddenly spoke, causing him to tilt his head to look at him. Your eyes were hazy, sleep-riddled, and your smile was lazy, “Aw.. b-baby..” You cooed, a small hand running through his hair. He could have melted right there, you were so pretty, even with messy hair. He pulled back from your cunt and assaulted his lips with yours. You gasped and caved into the kiss, wrapping arms around his neck to press him in against you. Two tongues collided, followed by some teeth. Saliva pooled at the corners of your mouths as he licked into you. Needing you. Wanting you so bad it was starting to hurt.

“Let me,” he broke away from the kiss, “Put it in..” Sukuna’s voice was gruff and low, spilling into your ears like honey. You nodded, pulling his lips back in. It felt so good as they molded against each other, breaking apart for air and then delving right back in. His rough hand slid down your front and grabbed his swollen dick, pressing the tip to your throbbing pussy. You wanted to cum so much and on his dick. You were teased, poked, and prodded, aching for release.

Ryomen thrust into you, causing a whimper to escape your lips, “Pe..perfect,” you gaped, trying not to make too much noise. It felt so good, how his big log rubbed against your insides and made your tummy bulge.

Even if it had just been a few months, you loved him and he loved you. Although, you hadn’t said it yet. Would now be a good time to say it? Ryomen was really debating it as he buried his cock into your warmth. But the seconds slipped into minutes and he didn’t say a word, letting the room be filled by your pathetic moans.

You two really needed to do this more often.

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moviecritc · 1 day

Text

after midnight ⋆ lestappen

pairing: lestappen x driver!reader

summary: charles doesn't want to accept that he has feelings for both of max and you

word count: 1.8K

warnings: making out, grope? (idk how to saying in english, but in spanish would be meter mano o manosear)

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

part 1 | part 2

Max and Y/N had once again achieved a 1-2, it was the third consecutive race they had achieved this result.

Everyone was cheering their names, and then there was Charles. He had managed to finish third because George DNF'd on the last lap and he took his place in the race.

Charles had always felt a mixture of envy and admiration for the Red Bull duo.

Envy for their driving style and tactics to win all the races and admiration for their personalities. Max stood out simply for being himself, calculating and fierce both on and off the track, his blue eyes sent shivers down Charles' spine. Even more so when he saw him without the fireproofs.

Y/N was slighty warmer than him, but still he feared her, with a somewhat rebellious driving style, Y/N had won the championship last year and was fighting for her second. She was much more open than Max and she was the one who humanized the team, separating her person from her race number very well. Most of the time she was Y/N L/N, when she got into the car she was simply the 1. It was impossible not to fall in love with her, from the moment she joined the competition she had become the girl of the paddock, the representative of all women in motorsport, and she wore it with pride. She has collaborated to form the F1 Academy, has financed dozens of girls to make a place for themselves in the sport and now she was forming her own F1 Academy team with Rare Beauty as a collaborator. She was an ambitious, determined, and also beautiful woman, Charles had found it impossible to resist her.

The most surprising thing was how well Max and Y/N got along off the track, they lived relatively close in Monaco and there had been several times when they had been seen having dinner together. Most of the people said they only had common friends, a few said there was something more than friendship.

The chemistry was undeniable, Y/N brought out the best side of Max in interviews and Max knew how to stop Y/N when she talked too much.

Charles knew the podium was going to be uncomfortable, Max and Y/N celebrating their victories and pouring champagne on each other, and Charles just being there, knowing that neither of them cared at all about his P3.

Surprisingly, Y/N approached him and patted him on the shoulder as she congratulated him, but immediately Max once again drew all of Y/N's attention by soaking her with champagne. Charles drank from his bottle as he watched Max half-kneeling and Y/N pouring champagne from her bottle into his mouth.

That scene caused Charles a strange sensation. Seeing Max like that, slightly kneeling with his hair and suit dampened by a mixture of alcohol and sweat. Y/N with the glow of victory in her eyes and her suit adapting to the curves of her body.

There was something so sexual about that scene that it overwhelmed Charles. His attraction to Y/N he had assimilated, with just a couple of words he knew she would be the woman of his dreams. The problem was that when he was with Max that feeling doubled. The idea of not being a spectator anymore and being with both of them made his heart race.

After finishing all the interviews, Y/N approached Charles. "Hey, we're going to get a drink, wanna come?"

Charles blinked. "Me?"

He pointed to himself, surprised by the invitation and interaction. In all those years he had hardly ever spoken to Y/N, except for business matters, which made her even more ethereal.

Y/N laughed in a natural way and brushed her hair away from her face. "Sure. Max and I usually have a drink with whoever comes third, and today it was you." By the way she said it, it seemed like it was already a routine. "So? Do you feel like it?"

"Uh, yes, yes. I'd love to," he nodded, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

"Great!" she said with a smile. Charles was impressed by her constant naturalness. "We'll get dressed up and then see you at the club."

Y/N gave him a squeeze on the shoulder and left the paddock with Max, who had been present throughout the conversation from a prudent distance.

At the after-party - for lack of a better term - there were many people from Red Bull, too many, and Charles felt like an intruder. He locked eyes with Y/N, who gestured to him as soon as she saw him. She was at a table almost in the center of the place with Max, some friends, and Lando Norris. That guy was always everywhere.

"Charles! Come here, come on. What do you want to drink?" exclaimed Y/N.

Charles approached, somewhat impressed by all of this. Y/N made room for him next to her and instead of fist-bumping, she gave him two kisses. Max, on the other hand, stretched his arm over Y/N to greet him and then left his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to his chest. Y/N didn't mind.

"P3, huh? That was very good," commented Max.

Y/N groaned immediately. "We always talk about races, let's talk about something interesting."

"Isn't Formula interesting?" Max spoke, tilting his head.

"Not with you," said Y/N.

They all laughed and Max made a face.

Y/N once again focused all her attention on Charles, he noticed how Y/N's heel was circling around his calf.

"What about your love life, Charlie?" she asked, without hesitation.

The nickname caught Charles off guard, and even more so the question. If she was asking, it was because she cared.

Max clicked his tongue, telling him he didn't have to answer.

How was Charles going to explain that every time he had felt some sexual desire it had been because of her and her teammate? "Boring," he ended up saying, with a slight frown.

"Oh, come on!" she exclaimed, almost disappointed. "How can it be boring? You're too handsome for your love life to be boring."

Charles lowered his gaze with a silly smile, noticing that Max hadn't stopped looking at him, as if he too were expectant of the answer.

"Don't listen to her, Charles. She rambles when she's drunk," commented Max, rolling his eyes a bit.

"And you get a thousand times more boring when you drink," Y/N gave Max a pat on the thigh, too close to the crotch for some to think.

Y/N drank from Max's gin and tonic and relaxed against his chest because no one was starting a conversation. She quickly got bored and looked at Max with a pout. "Will you dance with me?"

"No," he replied immediately.

"You asshole," Y/N wasted no time. "Charles?"

Charles looked up from his drink. "Huh?"

"Let's dance," she didn't even ask, she got up and pulled Charles' arm while flipping Max off before heading to the dance floor.

Charles knew she had only pulled him to dance to mess with Max, but that moment was like living a fever dream. The music hardly had any lyrics, it was pure beats on instruments. Y/N pressed her body against his in time with the music, so much so that sometimes it seemed like she was rubbing against him.

"You have beautiful eyes, Charlie," Y/N said, getting close to his ear so much that he could almost hear her saliva. She put an arm over his shoulder and kept dancing.

"Thank you," he replied, not knowing what else to say.

Their faces were getting closer and closer, while both could feel Max's gaze on them. When their noses brushed, it was Y/N who stopped, looking at him for a few seconds. She removed her arm from Charles's shoulder and bit her lip, as if she were nervous.

"Hold on, I have to talk to Max," she declared, before leaving the dance floor, leaving Charles stranded and confused.

He returned to the table, not knowing what had happened, but Max and YN were no longer sitting there. Lando pointed in the direction they had gone. He found them leaning against the door of what seemed to be a private room in the club; for a moment, he thought they were arguing because of the tone of their voices, but as he listened to the conversation, he began to feel chills.

"You like him too," Y/N insisted. "Deny it. Deny that it doesn't turn you on when you see him in the fireproofs."

"Damn, yes. But it doesn't matter, I've already told you he won't want to," Max grumbled, with a distressed expression.

"You don't know that," Y/N clenched her jaw.

"He's very uptight, and insecure."

Those two words echoed in Charles's head. Insecure… he knew he was, but he hadn't realized until now that other people might notice it.

"Max, I really want him," Y/N complained. "Just imagining him watching us fuck already turns me on, imagine with us in bed." She pressed herself against Max's chest, with a grimace.

Charles felt an instant satisfaction knowing that they also fantasized about him, at least he wasn't the only weird one. He thought about the possibilities of joining the conversation, or just letting them know he was there.

"Are you Charles Leclerc? Can we take a photo?"

Before Charles could react, Y/N and Max peeked their faces around the door, her with a little smile and him slightly nervous. It was an awkward moment while the fan took the photo, but when he left, both Max and Y/N were looking at him with crossed arms and feline eyes.

"How long have you been there?" Max questioned, raising his eyebrows. He thought his friendship with Charles was going to become quite awkward after that.

Charles didn't waste time. "I… I want to,"

Max and Y/N looked at each other, with a devilish smile.

"Really?" confirmed Max.

"Yes,"

Max didn't need anything else to pull him into the room and close the door behind them. Surprisingly, Charles and he were the first to kiss while Y/N watched them. Then Y/N attacked Charles's lips at the same time as Max left marks on his girlfriend's neck. Being in the middle of the two was too much for her; having so many hands on her made her messy. Eager for more, she pulled Charles's hand towards her inner thigh. He stopped at that exact moment.

A feeling of guilt, almost shame, overwhelmed him. The other two noticed it and stopped as well. "Is something wrong?" Y/N placed her hand on Charles's thigh, but that only made him stand up as soon as he felt the contact.

"I can't…" Charles didn't finish the sentence. "I better go."

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pumpkinbxtch · 3 days

Note

Hi, I just saw that you said that Jason is a little possessive, so I was wondering can you do a request with Jason and reader in that scenario, where he is a little jealous and possessive boyfriend?

he wrote 'mine' on my upper thigh

— jason grace x fem!reader

warnings: jealousy, language, jealous jason

a/n: I live for this face of everyone, it makes me very irresistible, lol.

— Want to die? — Jason asked, his expression completely changed. As if his pale skin wasn't enough, the way his face turned into a deadly calmness gave them enough reason to doubt every decision they had made in the last two miserable years of their lives. When they felt a cold breeze run down their spine, confirmed they had definitely messed with the wrong guy. What Jason didn't know was that normal mortals didn't find it hard to play that game because, well, those threats were never as real as he was used to.

— It's just a woman, no big deal, buddy — maybe was the brown-haired guy said it in a disdainful tone, or maybe was the last word that made Jason's stomach churn, but he remembered he was still in public, so he tried not to incinerate them with a snap or at least not to keep gritting his teeth the way he was because he swore he was about to shatter them.

— Just a woman — he repeated the words, dragging each one with hatred and disgust. The guy with the red hair looked more nervous than his other friend, so he tried to make peace, but that was something Jason had already left behind as an alternative to that argument. He wouldn't forgive any disrespect to you, because you were his best friend, his girlfriend, the person he would die for without a second thought, and if they wanted to see him that way, then you weren't just a woman, you were his woman.

He glanced to make sure you weren't anywhere near the checkout and took a few steps toward the pair. The redhead was close to wetting his pants, but his friend still had that stubborn look, pretending to downplay the significant difference in height and muscle mass between them.

For a moment, Jason struggled with his morality, because it was stupid to fight with his clearly abnormal strength for something that was easy to ignore because they would never be able to lay a finger on you while he was alive. However, he couldn't help but notice the way their eyes had been roaming over your body or the way they looked at you while you smiled at him. It made his blood boil and awakened the most primitive part of his being causing his logical side to drown and disappear, almost like those days when he was with the wolves. Besides, if he thought about it, it wasn't just them, it was every damn man and woman who dared to smile at you in a way that suggested more than just kindness, especially if they were the ones making you laugh. That's when he always felt on the edge of losing control.

Jason could feel shame somewhere in his conscience for his behavior, but this was also too real to hide for a little longer. That moment alone with those idiots had only given him the golden opportunity to unleash those piled-up frustrations.

— Yeah, just a woman — it was stupid, the conversation didn't go beyond that, but the retort was enough for the air to smell metallic and their hair to stand on end warning of the electricity beginning to fill their surroundings. How bad would it be if two mortals were struck by lightning for earning the title of the biggest idiots of the month? The answer was obvious to Jason: very bad, useless, in fact. So he took a deep breath and watched their hair return to normal.

— She's mine — he said, starting to turn around to go help you, but he stopped when he heard the other mocking him.

— Who says? —Jason was fed up with the irreverence and turned back to them, his fingertips sparking again.

— Beat it —he said as he sent a small electric shock to both of them. Mild enough not to cause harm but enough to make them scream. His eyes literally sparkled, making them doubt what they were seeing, scaring them, and confirming that the Mist hadn't helped when he saw them run. He wondered if he had gone too far, if he had let himself be carried away too much by that part of him that didn't make him proud but that he knew was part of him. In the end, he decided he didn't care, remembering that someone had once told him he had to stop holding back. So, with that philosophy in mind, he decided to go look for you.

The picnic tables weren't as crowded as you expected, in fact, there was hardly anyone around you, and you wondered if it was because for a moment there was a hint of rain or because of the heavy aura that Jason had been carrying since you left the grocery store, and now that you thought about it, you considered that both reasons were possibly related.

— Jason Grace — you called him sweetly as you opened the picnic basket, and he immediately softened his frown and looked in your direction. He was struck by the gentle way the breeze swayed your hair, it was an almost imperceptible movement but it highlighted how beautiful you were. He knew why you were calling him by his full name, his behavior couldn't be more obvious, but those words echoed in his mind.

»Who says?«

He slid along the bench to get closer to you as he watched you set things on the table. He wrapped his hand around your waist, and although you smiled in that way that was like oxygen to him, it wasn't enough for him. So, taking you by the hips, he forced you to stand up.

— C'mon, let's eat, baby — you said giggling, and he sat you on that old wooden table while he returned to the bench.

He looked up at you with his blue eyes, and seeing you from that perspective that made you look majestic. he rejected the idea of letting anyone else be the person who hugged you or who was close enough to smell your sweet scent. The idea of someone else other than him being able to kiss your lips, which were so perfect and soft, drove him crazy, he couldn't handle it.

»Who says?«

With that thought, he started searching in your bag that was lying next to you, you never stopped him, but you wondered about that change in attitude because he seemed a little rougher and severe, his eyes were even a little darker, but you couldn't deny that he looked handsome, that you even liked it.

When Jason found what he wanted, he stood up supporting only his right knee on the bench as support and he enjoyed the way that velvet skirt rose, leaving your thighs in his view. Before leaning towards them, he searched your eyes for any kind of disapproval because for him, the most important thing was how you felt, and not finding anything like that, gave him enough confidence to continue.

He felt your muscles tense and tried to undo it by caressing your leg, but failing that, his lips kissed a bit above your knee, which made you swallow saliva, what the hell was he trying to do and why now? Jason was never too public, any major display of affection was always in a more intimate place. When he straightened up, in his hand you finally saw what he had taken from your bag: your eyeliner.

Dazed, you reached out to try to take it, but he quickly caught his hand with yours on the table and before you could do the same with the other, he placed the open eyeliner between his lips and trapped your other hand in the same way.

He raised his gaze above his glasses and slowly shook his head, sending a silent warning before leaning towards you again, exactly on your upper thigh. You felt the moisture of the pen on your skin and with a given precision, you started to see that he was writing, but it wasn't until he finished that you could barely read it. The air left your lungs when you deciphered it and you didn't understand how after doing that, he had sat back down with the same serene smile as always, his hands spreading the tablecloth for you to eat while he hummed a familiar song.

Had you missed something? It was definitely something new in him to behave openly in that way, but you didn't dislike it. After all, what it said there wasn't a lie.

— Do you have any objections? — His demanding question didn't match the sweet tone in which he had said it, and you got off the table to put both hands on his shoulders.

— No, sir — you confirmed with the same tone and kissed the line of his jaw before taking a seat beside him.

Jason continued to arrange things, he seemed peculiarly focused, so you took the opportunity to discreetly look down once more, but your skirt had covered the word. Slowly with your hand, you lifted the fabric until it was visible again:

"Mine"

You felt a warmth spread through your body and crossed your legs on purpose to make it visible. That action drew a smile on your boyfriend's face, and not long after, he kissed you. No, it wasn't a lie, but as you was his, he was yours.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #pjo #percy jackson #jason grace fic #jason grace headcanons #jason grace #jason grace fluff #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace x reader #jason grace smut #jason grace fanfic #hoo x you #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus

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after-witch · 3 days

Text

Damn Your Eyes Chapter 2 [Yandere Ren Hana x Reader]

Title: Cream and Sugar [Damn Your Eyes Chapter 2] [Yandere Ren Hana x Reader]

Synopsis: A fateful meeting at a bookstore between you and Ren Hana, years upon years after your escape from Strade, turns into a coffee shop date. You're not supposed to accept drinks from strangers, but Ren's not a stranger--so it's fine, right?

Word count: 5,322

notes: yandere, descriptions of violence/death/wounds, drugging

AO3 LINK

How did one get over something like Strade? Get over that house and that basement? How do you move on with your life when you’ve seen someone’s guts spill out of their body while they’re still alive, and you’ve been instructed to pick them up and play with them for the delight of sick fucks watching it all on a paid stream?

The pretty answer, the one everyone recites when asked, because that’s what you do: with therapy and time and forgiveness for yourself. You take it one day at a time. You treat yourself.

The real answer: You didn’t. You don’t. You can’t.

Not fully. Because “getting over” something like that means it will eventually no longer affect you, no longer being a part of you.

And sure. You will, eventually, go about something that feels like an ordinary life.

You will walk into a grocery store with a tidy little list, you will roll your eyes at the rising cost of laundry detergent, you will smile at a cashier who says they like your outfit. You will date and drink coffee and sway to your favorite song while making dinner.

But inside, inside of you , you are still there--still hovering at the last step of the basement stairs, listening to someone’s guttural shrieks as their skin is blow-torch melted down. Still clinging to Ren in the middle of the night, flinching when his hands wander over a recent gouge, a hastily stitched cut--an accident, he whispers, and you’re never sure if you believe him.

And that is what happened to you.

It took years, of course, to even get close to that semblance of normalcy. A few years were spent in feverish hiding, running from place to place with no paper trails that might lead some gorehound that subscribed to Strade’s torture porn sniffing at your door, hungry for more.

But you settled down, in time. Slowly. Bit by bit, piece by piece, inch by inch.

That took years, too--the settling.

It started with staying in an apartment for more than three months at a time. It started with going to the grocery store wearing only sunglasses, instead of sunglasses, a wig, and the most nondescript clothing you could fish out of a bargain bin. It started with applying for real jobs, not just seedy work that paid cash, quick.

It ended here, in this quaint little home that you shared with your husband for the past five years, though you’d lived together for longer. It ended here, with a modest marketing career that you’d built up after going back to college. It ended here, with a life you built for yourself; frail and a bit unorthodox, but a life nonetheless.

You wouldn’t have been able to survive, if you hadn’t adapted. There is only so much terror the human man can manage before breaking entirely, and so--adaptation.

It was a gift that your husband didn’t mind your… differences. The heavy insistence on home security, the desire for privacy, the slow way you gave trust to strangers--if you gave it at all.

Some things did bother him. He grumbled about your lack of social media presence, and you’d once had an awful fight when his sister put a photo of you on Facebook that you’d demanded, in furious tears, be taken down.

But, deep down, it wasn’t like you could blame your husband for bucking against your near tantrum-like reaction. For the way he sometimes sighed as you locked the front door with triple locks, and an electric sensor. For the way his jaw sometimes set, when you did something that wasn’t normal to anyone who hadn’t been the extended torture victim of a serial killer that doubled as a snuff porn producer.

Because you knew--deeper down--that you were still haunted by the ghosts in that basement. Strade and the torture victims and Ren and yourself, shaking like a leaf, bleeding onto concrete. You knew, even if the man you slept beside in a bed every night had no inkling of it, that you could never step back across that threshold and be the way you were before.

But.

And there’s always a but, isn’t there?

But… that was okay. It was okay that you could never go back; it was okay that you were someone new; it was okay that you weren’t okay, and you’d never be okay in the fullest sense of the word.

Your life was a life you created out of shaking fingers, something clawed out with dirty fingernails. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours.

What more could you ask for, after Strade?

What more could you ask for, after anything ?

Books are a vice. More than smoking, more than sex. You could give up sex, you could swear you’ll never buy another pack of smokes, but you could never give up books.

Okay, okay. You’re being over dramatic and theatrical. But how can you think of books as anything other than a sinful pleasure when you’re surrounded by these shelves and stacks, imagining that one day you can afford an extension on your home and dedicate an entire room (or two--why not, in a daydream?) solely to books?

You’re not even supposed to be here today. It was your day off, and your calendar was packed to the brim with mundane errands. Today’s schedule certainly didn’t leave room for indulgently browsing at a bookstore, but sometimes you just have to live a little, don’t you?

Although if you come home with yet another bag of books, your husband is bound to shove his face into the nearest couch cushion and scream. But c’mon. It wasn’t your fault that you’d long since run out of shelf space and were prone to stuffing the books into boxes that cluttered the closests.

Your fingers wander over the spines of the books crammed onto the shelves, catching the uneven mismatched spaces between with every dip. The spines are often worn and weathered, some of them even peeling a little.

This was why you preferred secondhand bookstores. No neat lines of fresh new books set up to catch the eye and make a sale here. No, instead there were countless books shoved together with no care for size or color or sometimes (depending on who was stocking that day) even genre.

For instance, today you find a battered paperback copy of Carrie by Stephen King right next to a suspiciously pristine How to Keep Your House from Drowning that probably still has an uncracked spine. That poor soul, with a messy house. Maybe they should have read the book.

You’re about to keep moving when, on second thought: Your partner might get a kick out of finding that book on his nightstand. Or he’ll chuck it at your head (lovingly) for bringing it into the house. It’s a 50/50 gamble that you’re willing to take.

And so you go to pull it out, a private little grin on your face, just as another hand reaches across for Carrie.

Fingers and elbows bump together and you feel that slight flush of awkward embarrassment rush to your cheeks as you sputter out, “Sorry!” Your voice even goes up an octave, an annoying habit that you’ve been trying to train out of yourself.

The stranger pulls away and mutters their own low apology. They sound just as awkward as you, which makes you feel a little better, at least, so you turn to look at them and offer an embarrassed smile and you think, briefly, maybe you’ll grab Carrie for them or cheekily ask if they were going for the cleaning book--

But when you turn to look at them, all thoughts and cheek are snuffed out.

Not because the man in front of you is wearing a nicely tailored business suit and matching fedora hat; a dark gray complimented by a muted burgundy tie. Like he’s off to a meeting or comes from a big city where such outfits are often found in shops and cafes during lunch hours.

Not because the man in front of you is attractive, with red hair with a bit of ever so slightly silver sticking out from underneath his hat; his cologne, soft but spicy, tickles your nose.

But because the man in front of you is Ren.

Older, yes. His hair and face peppered with signs of time, just like yours. There are scars on his face that you remember--some etched onto his flesh right in front of you, and some from that gray area of before, when Strade had yet to take you--and some you don’t.

Your body is lead, your throat is closed up. Speech and movement are now foreign, unknowable things, because Ren is standing right in front of you.

It takes you a moment to shake it off; no, two moments. No, three.

And then you can finally speak, although the word comes out hoarse and whispered, like every ounce of spit in your mouth vanished the instant you saw him. Perhaps it did.

“ Ren ?”

He blinks. His eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowing. For a terrible moment, you find yourself thrown back down the basement steps, when knowing the difference between Strade’s brows furrowing in annoyance or amusement could mean the difference between the degree of your upcoming burns.

And then his expression opens, widens, just enough for you to recognize that he knows who you are now and you’re here, in a bookshop, decades on; not there, not in the basement, where you left Strade’s corpse to rot.

Ren--for he is Ren, and you know it--lifts his hat, his lips turning up in a smile that makes your heart twist painfully, and shows just the bottom edges of his ears in greeting.

He says your name and your ears ring, high and tinny. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a cashier standing at the till rearranging trinkets while clearly spying on whatever bit of vaguely interesting gossip this might turn into during their lunch break.

You had, in truth, imagined this moment before. Countless times. Usually at night, though you weren’t terribly picky; a long trip on a bus, head pressed against the window glass, was also a great time for such thoughts.

You’d imagined finding Ren some day, in many different ways.

In some fantasies, you look him up in the phonebook (a stupid idea fit only for a fantasy, because Ren would never put himself out there like that, just as you hadn’t) and give him a call and meet up at a park and you apologize until your lungs stop working. In another, you run into him somewhere else, a store or park; a coincidence just like this one. In still others, he finds you, offering to meet in a public space because he knows you’d be scared and he wants you to be comfortable and Ren would definitely think of things like that, considering your shared experiences.

In your daydreams, you had a speech prepared. It was always moving, of course. It culminated in a soft, unbearably sweet hug where the two of you squeezed out the pain from the preceding decades and parted in mutual understanding. Maybe with each other’s phone numbers on slips of paper.

But those were daydreams. This is real life.

In real life, your throat feels closed up; your eyes burn with hot tears that want to spill out, and everything from your chest to your cheeks feels hot and swollen. In real life, it is not the daydreams but your nightmares that worm their way into your brain: those nightmares you have (yes, have, still--even this far down the line) where he hates you, where he tells you that you left him there like he’s nothing, where he throws back all your whispered conversations in the dark back in your face.

In real life, you can only stammer out, expecting the nightmarish worst: “Ren. I’m s…sorry. I’m sorry . I shouldn’t--I shouldn’t have --”

Ren raises his hand; his brows furrow again. He says your name, once, twice. Softer. Gentler.

“It’s okay,” he says, low. You don’t know if he means that it’s okay that you left him (it isn’t, is it?) or that it’s going to be okay or that he’s okay or--

Ren must sense your upcoming lack of steady breathing, because he places one steady hand on your shoulder. The way he used to do, when you started thinking about the fact that you were going to die in that house, and it would be an awful death, and the thought of it made you want to tear into your own skin.

It brings you back down to the ground, which only makes you want to cry for a different reason.

Ren’s face has a touch of sticky pity on it when he smiles at you.

“Why don’t we go somewhere we can sit down and talk?”

You are sitting in a coffee shop across the way from a fox man who used to be tortured with you in the basement of a serial killer's home that doubled as a snuff film studio. There are people around you, but they might as well be invisible, be nothing at all.

Because every nerve in your body is focused squarely on Ren, sitting in front of you with a muted awkward expression as the pair of you wait silently for the barista to call up your order.

Neither of you have spoken since you sat down.

Sweat is beginning to stick to your neck, but you don’t want to move without warning--don’t want to startle Ren. If you do, maybe he’ll run off, and… no. He wouldn’t run off now. You can tell. He’s not like he used to be, and neither are you.

There are decades between you, and yet--and yet that thread is still there, isn’t it? You could never fully cut it. Maybe it pulled, instead. Pulled and pulled and eventually lost all of its slack on this unassuming afternoon, when the two of you met again in a bookstore. Reaching for books with cracked and weathered spines, lines creasing over the paper like scars on the skin.

Your scars. His scars.

How many times have you traced over the marks on your skin? How many times has he? Maybe he didn’t do it anymore. Maybe he was in a much better space than you, and that’s why he looks so awkward and you feel like your heart is about to pound right out of its chest. Because he’s moved on and you, stupid thing, just woke up in the basement in the middle of a sunny afternoon.

His shoulders straighten; you imagine, under his hat, that his ears have perked. For a moment,, a familiar sensation washes through you. Danger. He’s coming down the stairs and it’s going to hurt.

But Strade is dead. And you are alive, and Ren is alive, and his attention only raised because the barista set both of your coffees down on the counter. Nothing more than that.

Slowly, the world seems like it regains its normal gravity. The sweat clinging to your neck feels silly and not ominous. You can breathe, and the world of the coffee shop seems to settle around you like it would have on any other day.

“I’ll get them,” Ren says, quietly, eyeing you with wariness–like he’s the one worried about you bolting. Fuck. He’s probably right to think that; a moment ago, you might have been the one to run.

Ren pauses after he stands up, and there’s something soft and sad in his eyes when he looks at you. Part of you thinks he’s about to say that he’s going to leave, that this was a mistake. But instead, his lips curl and the softest of smiles, and he asks:

“You still like cream and sugar?”

Oh.

“Yes,” you say, automatically. But you don’t. Not anymore. Tastebuds change and you drink it black with no cream, when you do bother to drink it. It’s not worth correcting, and you don’t. You just watch as he grabs both cups and heads over to the counter on the far side of the coffee shop, where there’s oodles of sugars (and sugar substitutes); creamers; and little tins of milk to add to your drink.

Then your phone vibrates, and the “fuck!” that comes out of your mouth is involuntary. It was about the time that you should have been heading home, bookstore stop notwithstanding. What were you going to say to him? That you’d run into someone from your past that used to get tortured with you? That you remember what Ren looks like when his flesh is sliced into and pulled apart?

You heading home? Took ground beef out for dinner. Tacos?

Your thumb hovers over the phone screen. You’re going to lie. You already know that. Even if you were ready to tell him about your past, it would not be like this. Even you, not particularly attuned to mobile etiquette, knew it was better to confess something like this in person. Although the temptation to confess it all and add silly emojis to punctuate the gritty details was very strong.

Ran into an old friend , you type, finally. They want to hang out a bit. Tacos are fine, don’t wait up! Xoxoxo.

It feels so normal. And that’s okay, isn’t it? That you’re being normal right now. It’s a sign that you’ve come so far, if anything. And you’ll take any of those signs that you can manage to get, so when the text comes in–

Can’t wait to hear about it!

I don’t guarantee there will be tacos left.

Kidding.

… Maybe.

–you let that normalcy wash over you, and it helps you settle as Ren returns, coffee mugs in hand.

His expression is lighter, too. He probably notices the weight off your shoulders, the way you’re trying to look interested and perhaps even excited to see him, rather than looking like you’re about to throw up on a half-empty stomach.

He slides your mug across the table and you can tell at a glance that it’s going to be sweet. A hesitant sip, your tongue curling back from the warmth and inevitable sugar, confirms it. Milky and creamy, just like you used to take it.

“Do you live around here?” Ren asks, taking a sip from his own mug.

Such an average question. It’s almost enough to make you snort. Really, you should be asking him when he got out of that basement and whether or not he ever thought about cutting you open and if he still had dreams, like you did.

Instead, he’s asking something you might ask an old high school friend that you haven’t seen in twenty years.

Fuck. What a world you live in.

Maybe he senses your thoughts. Maybe the two of you really are in tune from what you went through together. Because he cracks a smile, the edge of a sharp tooth showing. And then the smile spreads and turns into a little chuckle. It’s not the giggling snort he would sometimes fall into at the house. It’s something older and more reserved, but that shouldn’t surprise you. You’re the same way.

You take another sip of the coffee. It really is too sweet. That’s how you took it at the house, though. It was better to drown your sorrows in creamer and packets of sugar–pilfered from diners that Strade went to, sometimes to scope for victims–than mope about them all the time.

“I really am curious,” he says, voice light. “If you’re okay with telling me.” Something different in his tone. Offense, maybe? God, it’s strange, being on the lookout for what someone’s tone really means again.

But it’s just Ren. You shouldn’t be so worried about it.

“It’s fine,” you say, just as light. “Yeah, maybe about half an hour away? I have a little house…”

Ren’s eyebrows raise. Not in surprise, exactly. But in interest. It relieves you, just a little, that he didn’t let out some sarcastic remark about having your own place away from him.

“Do you have a garden?” He asks. “You always did talk about getting one.”

A twinge in your heart. Bittersweet and old. Sometimes at night, when the two of you were allowed to curl up together, you would talk about a fantasy world. A world where you never came here; where you’d be and what you’d do. Sometimes, you’d be in a pretty little cottage with a pretty little garden in a pretty little town.

Well. Your garden is pretty, even if your house isn’t an adorable cottage and you live at the edge of sprawling suburbs where you have to drive 20 minutes to get to anything useful. Close enough?

You tell him about it. The house and the garden. You even tell him about your partner, and maybe his smile does quirk down a little, then. But you could be imagining it.

“Do you have kids?” Ren asks, next. If he were anyone else, it would be a mundane question--the kind you ask every couple who's been together a while. In Ren, it feels different. Serious. Sincere. He tilts his head a little, taking another sip of his coffee, which prompts you to do the same.

Kids. Hah. It wasn’t like the thought had never crossed your mind. But it didn’t happen. For a lot of reasons, it didn’t happen. Mind and body and the basement worked against you, and maybe there was a part of you that was afraid to bring anything into the world, because you knew it could be taken away. Taken to someone’s basement and hurt and hurt and hurt –

Ren says your name.

Ren’s hand is on yours.

You glance down at his hand–see a familiar scar, see that your hand underneath his is curled up and tense–and then look up at his face.

Oh, the passing of time.

“Me neither,” he says, softly. Like he knows why you didn’t and couldn’t, and maybe he was the same way.

It hurts too much to think about. So you clear your throat and slowly pull your hand away, letting it rest on the now cooling mug of coffee. You take another swig, despite it not being to your taste anymore. Ren really did put in a lot of creamer.

“What about you?”

His head tilts, almost slow, almost curious.

“Me?”

He blinks.

You blink back.

“Do you live around here?”

A smile–an Ahhh sort of smile.

“No,” he says, simply. He shakes his head. “I travel a lot.” He nods his head. “For business.”

“Oh,” you say. “What sort of business?”

A flicker in his gaze. Something sharp and familiar. It’s gone too soon to matter.

“This and that,” is all he says.

And there’s a strange sort of realization in your head. A fuzziness that seems to spread right to your scalp. This is all too casual, too normal. It’s not at all what it was supposed to be, when you met. Asking about homes and gardens and kids and what you do for work; fuck, you two had been tortured together. Had watched people die. Had helped other people die.

This should have been about more than banal pleasantries. This should have been about reconnecting. About that thread between the two of you that couldn’t be cut, even now.

Maybe it’s that fuzziness in your scalp and maybe it’s the lurching of your heart, but you reach out your hand again towards Ren; your hand and your heart reaching and aching –

“Why did you run that day?” Soft and to the point. All the years have led to this question.

The question drops your hand straight to the table. The thud feels harder than it sounds. What ease your heart had mellowed to earlier melts away entirely, and you can feel adrenaline beginning to pump, your heart pounding and racing. Your ears hurt.

Why did you run? It’s the question you wanted him to ask, isn’t it? The question that would lead to your big sappy explanation and apology and the sentimental hug before you two parted ways, perhaps with phone numbers in your pockets?

But now that Ren is real again; now that he’s here, lines around his eyes and a touch of silver in his hair, you don’t know how to answer.

You ran because you were scared. Scared of people from Strade’s fucked up streams finding you in that house. Scared of Strade’s corpse rotting in the basement. Scared, too, of Ren. Of being chained to him, or by him, and you could never be sure which was more likely.

You ran because you weren’t strong enough to face whatever was left behind for you in that fucking house.

Thickness lodges in your throat but you swallow against it. This is not a daydream. This is real life. And you have to own up to what you did now.

“Ren, I–”

The words don’t come, because the world suddenly spins. The fuzziness prickling on your scalp, your ears ringing, your heart going too fast–this has all been too much for you, you should have known that. There are brief thoughts–heart attack, stroke, fuck, fuck, FUCK–and then Ren’s hand is gripping your upper arm so you don’t fall out of the chair.

“Are you okay?” Your vision is clear enough to see the concern in his face. His brows furrow together and he looks around, telling someone– ”Yes, I'm going to get her home” --and you’re about to tell him not to take you to the hospital because your insurance has a high deductible for the emergency room when another dizzy spell hits you, and you’d rather be in debt than dead.

“Should I call an ambulance?” He asks, voice low, calming. Your mind latches onto it. You’re not alone, it’s going to be okay. Someone is here to take care of you, and if you have to go to the emergency room, well, it couldn't have happened at a better time.

Ambulances cost too much money, though, and Ren

“Could you drive me?” Even as you talk, you know something’s wrong. The words come out too slow, a little slurry. Almost like you’re drunk.

Ren starts to shake his head and your dizzy self makes a pitiful sound.

You swear you can see Ren’s ears twitching underneath his hat. You don’t have the presence of mind to think about why–where and when he’s heard that pitiful whimper before–so you just cling to him as he gently pulls you out of your chair.

He grabs your purse and carefully leads you out of the shop. Someone holds the door open, and he tells them that you’re going to the emergency room, thank you for the concern. Your head swims and you might mumble thank you to them, too, but you’re not entirely sure. Are you dying? Is it a stroke? Will the last thing you texted the love of your life be about dinner? It’s funny in that awful, delirious sort of way.

“Ren?” You ask, helpless. You’re holding onto him as tightly as you can, but your fingers feel fuzzy. Your whole body feels fuzzy, actually. Heavy and strange. Drunk and leaden.

“It’s all right,” he murmurs. “Let’s get you into my car, all right?”

You don’t have the presence of mind to wonder why his car is already out on the curb, running, with a driver in the front seat. You aren’t coherent enough to think about things like that; but then, even before you drank the coffee cup laced with a sedative, you didn’t notice the black car following the pair of you down the road to the coffee shop.

You didn’t notice it follow you to the bookstore, either, nor did you give it a second glance when it pulled out of the lot after you stopped in at the grocery store to pick up a few miscellaneous items.

You really had lost your touch after all these years.

Ren grips you carefully while he opens the back door to the car. It’s roomy, expensive. Clean black leather seats that probably don’t show stains. Up front, a driver sits, wearing a hat and sunglasses and a uniform.

There’s a brief thought–Jesus, what does Ren do for a living to afford this?--before Ren is helping you crawl into the backseat.

The movement only makes you dizzier, and you’re telling the person in the front seat, whoever they are, that you need to get to the nearest hospital please.

They don’t even turn to look at you. It’s strange. But then Ren is there in the backseat with you, and you’re mumbling the same thing to him. Rattling off your symptoms–dizzy, fuzzy, confused, tingling hands. You try to remember the test for a stroke but can’t.

Ren smiles at you.

Why is he smiling? That thought comes through loud and clear, but it doesn’t stick for very long.

“Ren,” you say, slurring. “The hospital, the nearest one is… I think it’s… you have to…”

And those words, difficult as they are to get out, slowly drop away. Because while your mind is not capable of many things right now, it is capable of registering something unusual.

Ren.

He doesn’t look worried anymore. No more concern furrowing his brow, no more softness.

Instead, he looks pleased. There’s a smug smile on his face, and you’ve seen it before, but it’s older now. Wiser. Less impulsive and more assured.

A cat–a fox–that caught the canary. And you, what little remains of your logical mind tells you, are one dumb bird.

And he knows that you know. Because he jerks his chin at the driver in the front, who must press some kind of button; the doors lock. Loud. Hard. Your numb hands fumble for the door handle but no matter how much you try to shove the door open, it doesn’t budge.

You're locked in.

“Back to the hotel for now,” Ren says. Not to you. To the driver. Who–to your horror–begins to pull away from the curb.

“Oh, no–” You try to scream. It’s not quite loud enough. Not quite sharp enough. but maybe someone can see you, even through the tinted windows. Or they’ll hear you and tell someone, who will maybe tell someone else, who might call the cops. If you’re lucky.

Ren’s hand cups your mouth firmly.

“Don’t waste your energy, you’ll need it soon.” The hand moves from your lips to your cheek, resting there. The look in Ren’s eyes is blurry–whatever he drugged you with is making it hard to focus–but you recognize bits of it, because you felt the same damn thing.

The awful mixture of nostalgia, regret and ache.

Maybe if you explain everything. Tell him why you ran. Apologize like hell. You won’t be hugging after this, but you won't be drugged up (what did he give you?) in the back of his car, either.

“Ren– the hous e–I ran–I–let me explain, it–”

Ren’s hand trails back to your mouth. The sharp edges of his nails graze against your nose.

“Hush. We’ll talk about all that later.”

Later?

Oh, fuck –

There’s an awful, stabbing pain in your thigh–you look down and see Ren pulling away a syringe with a bright silver needle.

Ren–you try to say his name, but when you open your mouth, nothing comes out. Your lips gape and close and words no longer form.

Your head is swimming now, all highs and lows, dipping and rising over waves that never seem to end. It’s like you're falling asleep in the worst way, hard and rocky.

Like you’re falling backwards down the basement stairs.

Ren’s voice is the last thing you hear before you black out.

“Sweet dreams.”

#the price of flesh #boyfriend to death #ren hana #ren hana x reader #tpof x reader #afterwitch writes #thank you voice to text you saved my marriage. i mean my fic. same thing.#i feel like I'm aiming for... 4 chapters? Maybe 5. Definitely 4 though.

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