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#thank you for tagging me!! those were fun to answer
yujeong · 3 days
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Favourite Underrated Ship? Simple answer: Every single Pete rarepair! -> PorschePete? Iconic! Brilliant! Phenomenal! Most people love "best friends who kiss", I love "secret third thing". However one enjoys them, though, they're delicious to consume😌 (You might think it's not an underrated ship, but I'd like to inform you that it has, in fact, less than 100 fics on Ao3, so it very much is in my book. I'm happy to have contributed to it by posting two of them, but I'd love it if there were more. Hopefully, I'll get inspired anew one day.) -> KinnPete? Oh please, the power dynamics make me giggle like a 10 year old girl playing with Barbie dolls. Such glorious toxicity, such perfect ways Kinn could use and abuse Pete to his benefit, either with or without knowing he's doing it. You can do so much with them, either pre, during or post canon and I get so excited thinking about it. (This one has less than 50(!) fics posted, so I'm super thankful to the few authors who have gifted me some amazing works. Sharing my personal favourite because it deserves to be cherished 🥹) -> ArmPete? Do I even need to sell this one? It can do fluff, it can do angst, it can do smut, it can do it all. My personal favourite flavour of it is Arm having unrequited feelings for Pete because it's just so deliciously angsty 😇 I love me some pain, I can't help it. (This one doesn't have any fics to its name, besides one in Chinese. I'm devastated. I did personally have an idea for a multi-chaptered fic with 3k words already written, but if I manage to focus on it properly one day, it'll end up being a simple one-shot.) -> KimPete? Oh, you mean the ship I got so obsessed over I wrote 25k words of them platonically bonding, while having Kim think to himself more than once how pretty Pete is? You mean the ship that shares so many similarities with VegasPete, while still having its own identity based on the differences between Kim and Vegas? You mean the love of my life? (Again, fics for this one are almost non-existent, which is a shame, but understandable. One day, I'll manage to enrich the tag. One day.) -> TankhunPete? Take KinnPete's fucked up power imbalance and twist it in a more peculiar direction. What you get is this ship, which makes me so uncomfortable but so, so intrigued. (Incredibly underrated with how few fics it has, but a special thanks to this one for altering my brain chemistry when I first read it.) -> BigPete? Rivals who might engage in hate sex from time to time? Pals who share the same fate and understand it and bond over it? Pick your poison and roll with it, because it's delicious either way. I'm personally team "They hate each other" because it's more fun that way 😉 (Almost nothing here again, which is a shame, but again understandable. I had forgotten they shared 2 lines of dialogue together in the show, I deadass thought they never talked to each other, which was great for me lol. Here's one fic written by the same person who wrote the KinnPete one, in case you'd like something cool to read.) -> TayPete? This one's for pure aesthetic reasons because have you seen Tay, have you seen Tay at the auction, have you imagined Pete and Tay fucking at the auction, because I surely have 🙂 It's such a gorgeous image, I lose focus for a hot minute when it comes to me. (This one's tricky, because most people write Vegas/Pete/Tay, which is a glorious choice and I support it, and my talented friend is writing a very good VPT fic, but I'd love it if there were more fics that focus on these two only. They're too powerful, I can't get enough.) I think those are all the ones I'm personally obsessed with. All I have to say is, Pete deserves all the beautiful men and what they'd like to do with him ❤️
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odetodreamers · 1 year
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15 questions & 15 mutuals — tagged by @harmoon <3
1. are you named after anyone? nope, my mama had my middle name picked out first and wanted a pretty, yet modern name to go with it
2. when was the last time you cried? today while watching a movie haha
3. do you have kids? not yet!
4. do you use sarcasm a lot? when i’m with my family i certainly do, but not a lot in my daily life
5. what’s the first thing you notice about people? how their aura/presence makes me feel while being around them and the way in which they speak to me
6. what’s your eye color? my eyes are dark blue
7. scary movies or happy endings? happy endings, i always enjoy a little something that adds fuel to my heart
8. any special talents? hmmm, none that really come to mind at the moment
9. where were you born? in the united states
10. what are your hobbies? reading, journaling, making pinterest boards, playing my switch, collecting vinyls
11. have you any pets? yes, i have five cats and one dog back at my childhood home
12. what sports do you play/have you played? soccer, softball, basketball, and tennis
13. how tall are you? about 5’9”
14. favorite subject in school? composition, literature, etymology, english/language arts, poetry…basically all of the english courses one can study
15. dream job? if i had not gone into my current profession, i would have loved to have worked in a library as a librarian
tagging: @currahee @judescarden @r-walker @ladystrks @ncllcraines @winterflell @rorygilmoore @sylthrein @hightowres @chris-chambers @chcrryslurpee @slyherin @merlinaddams @qquicksllver @djiarin
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angelizs · 2 years
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Everytime I see someone say Idia wouldn’t know what a period is I always wonder whether they know he has to do stuff at his parents company which is literally about health /nm
hi anon!! I've actually never seen anyone saying this, but that might be because I'm very new to the fandom and haven't seen much Idia content so far. I agree with you, tho, I think him (and most of the boys at NRC too) would definetly know what it is!
wait I'll put this under the cut it's time for my (not so in depth) Idia analysis!!
ok so first things first, fair warning: this is my own personal interpretation and it might not be a 100% correct, anyone is allowed to disagree!
another fair warning: I've only caught up with the english server so far so I haven't read the Ignihyde chapter yet, which means I still have a lot to see about Idia, but I don't wanna get spoilers so I'll be going with the knowledge I have from the main story, events and vignettes.
the thing with Idia is that, at a surface level, he's just another Gamer Nerd TM stereotype that's a shut-in with no friends nor social skill and yada yada, and that's what some people might take him for, especially at first glance. I've seen people saying he'd be those misogynistic gamers that have never seen a girl in his life or the ones that think you absolutely have to prove you know everything about a game to be a fan of it. and I know that's all in good fun of course but! I don't agree with it at all!
in my point of view, yes Idia is very introverted and reclusive and he's socially awkward, but that doesn't mean he's that stereotypical gamer, which is what makes him so interesting in the first place! he breaks those expectations you have for his character and shows a lot more depth than this label! I'm not saying he doesn't play into the role at all, but I think he's very well written to break some common patterns.
like! he's such a sweet older brother! he might love his games and his alone time and his room, but he loves Ortho more than those things and would go out of his comfort zone for him (like in the recent Wish Upon a Star event which is one of my favorites btw). he gets very talkative and almost sassy when speaking about something he likes! (like in Azul's school uniform vignette). and yes he can be selfish and headstrong and rude (like in the Ghost Bride event), as is expected for a student of NRC, but that doesn't eliminates his positive traits.
where am I going with this and how does it even ties into the question? it's because in those gamer stereotypes, you'd expect him to not know anything about afab people that isn't in one of his games and have no friends to tell him otherwise. but I think he (and most at NRC) is very educated and would know, you know, basic biology. plus I actually wasn't aware his family's company is about health (I thought it had smth to do with technology, since as I mentioned I haven't read the chapter yet), but since that's the case it's even one extra motive for him to know about it.
like, it's definetly not on top of his mind and he probably never has given it any thought but he does know, it's just not something he has do deal with on a daily basis.
TL;DR: I agree with you anon, Idia is very interesting and there's more than what meets the eye to him, so he doesn't fall into a clear cut stereotype that people often take him for!
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afterglowsainz · 4 days
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Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻
jealousy | jude bellingham
obsessed with this concept already !!
summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it
warnings: none
word count: 738
a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3
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you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.
“someone dm you.” he says.
his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.
“who?”
“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.
“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.
jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.
“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.
“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.
when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.
some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.
he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.
“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.
you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.
“sure.” you say.
he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.
when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.
“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.
“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.
“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.
“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”
“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”
jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.
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ltleflrt · 1 month
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Figuring out I'm on the ace spectrum was so difficult because I have always been a horny bitch. I knew what sex was at a fairly young age, because I'd asked my mom and she's one of those good parents who'll answer questions like those, and as I grew older and would ask more complex questions, her answers would evolve along with my curiosity and understanding of the world. And I remember having fantasies as young as 9 or 10 years old, even if they were hella vague and nothing close to what sex actually is lol
So as I became a teenager, and all my friends' focus turned from playing with dolls to flirting with boys, I automatically thought I was attracted to boys. And I paid more attention to Cute Boys than I did to Cute Girls, because girls were just nice to look at while boys were People To Have Crushes On. Because of heteronormativity. Looking back on it now, I know there were girls I liked to stare at just as intently as boys, although less often because I wasn't trying to pay attention. And I certainly didn't fantasize about girls because I started reading romance novels in 5th grade, so I was fantasizing about male romantic partners because that was the fiction I was consuming. I didn't even realize fantasizing about girls was possible until I was 17, and I had a few "am I a lesbian" internal crises for years because of it.
So when I did start having sex, I had A LOT OF IT with SO MANY different guys, and eventually a couple of women once I started accepting that bisexuality was real. But it was never really fulfilling. Not like my fantasies were. Not like my books were. I was slutty because sex was fun, I was horny, there were plenty of options so I kept searching for that satisfaction I was craving.
Getting married was a relief (even though it turns out I'm aro-spec too lol) because I was tired of hunting, and even if sex with my husband was meh, at least I had someone around to scratch that itch if I had it, and he didn't mind if I occasionally took care of things on my own because I'd read an especially hot scene in a romance.
I learned about asexuality in my early 20s, but I brushed it off. Couldn't be me, I'm far too horny for that. But I think that comes from the fact that everything you hear about Aces is attached to sex-repulsion or sex-indifference. I wasn't either of those things. I was horny all the dang time. I was fantasizing about sex all the dang time. I figured actual sex was meh because my imagination was so vivid that real life could never match up. Which could be true to an extent, but I think not as much as popular opinion would have us believe. If fantasy was really that much better for everyone, then I think we'd have less incels and unplanned pregnancies than we do.
In my 30s I finally saw people talking about The Spectrum, and I started examining my past, and I figured out I wasn't really attracted to anyone I had sex with. I do occasionally find someone attractive; there are men and women and enbies who make my skin feel tight and give me a little wave of lightheadedness lol... but it's always always the fantasy that gets me really going. If given the opportunity I wouldn't have sex with any of those people. Thank you, but no thank you, I'd rather just imagine it than physically participate in the act with them.
(Ok I might go down on them, but that's less about wanting sex, and more about being able to add them to my Tally. Hell yeah I want to brag about making *insert hot person* have an orgasm. There's PRIDE in that kind of accomplishment lol)
I have a lot of respect for aces that are not horny. I understand it even if I don't share the sentiment. And I feel like most of them understand me even if they don't share the sentiment. There's a solidarity between us.
Until I go into a fandom tag for a character that the aces have glommed onto because they're canonically ace or headcanoned as ace. Good lord, the non-horny aces can turn into downright vicious bastards if a horny ace sexualizes their blorbo.
This post is for them.
Horny aces exist. Please look up "autochorissexual, lithosexual, and aegosexual."
Refer to those definitions in regards to romantic attraction as well as sexual attraction.
Some aces may not fall into one of those definitions, because asexuality is a spectrum, but they may still be horny.
Horny aces are not disrespecting you by enjoying being horny on main. We promise we'll wash the stickiness off our hands before we hold your hands in queer solidarity.
And most importantly: Your blorbo is fictional and does not need to be defended from icky sexuality. They exist in an infinite multiverse, so your blorbo and my blorbo are not the same, even if they appear to be on the surface.
AND:
This post is also for the people who are confused about themselves because they're horny but don't actually feel attraction. You're not crazy, you're not wishy washy, you're not "waiting for the right person to come along" (unless you are, in which case I hope you find them). You're just a thin strip of color on a massive rainbow that holds more unique shades than anyone can perceive at a glance.
You're valid. You're one of us too.
And don't be mean to the non-horny aces. Tag your smut so they can avoid it. (But actually so I can find it lol)
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yawnderu · 5 months
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Heaven only gives you the chance to say the right thing once. Simon never once used his— not when he was tortured, not when he rescued hostages, not when he was the judge in front of an executioner— no, he saved those words for the moment he was holding his beloved's hands in his, looking down at her with tears threatening to escape his eyes.
''I've been alive for 11315 days, and I can tell you this is the happiest one so far.'' He offers you a small smile as he squeezes your hands gently, eyes glossier as he feels you squeeze back.
''Never in my life I considered the chance of romance. Never dated, never even thought about what having a girlfriend was like. My duty was to protect my country and my family, never letting anything distract me— until I met you.'' His hand goes up to wipe a stray tear falling down your cheek, looking down at your beautiful face before he went back to hold your hands. He ignores the whistles and cheers from his mates, though the smile on his lips is clear.
''You somehow broke down all my barriers. You took the time to get to know me, never once doing anything that was out of my comfort zone. You learnt my body language, how to talk to me, how to get close, and before I knew it, I was planning our future in my head.'' A small chuckle escapes his lips, looking slightly embarrassed to be confessing this in front of his mates.
''You were the reason I was extra careful in missions, more so than I've ever been, because I never wanted you to open the door just to find the old man holding my dog tags.'' He looks back at Price, who looks just like a proud father and gives him an encouraging smile.
''Thank you for bearing with me even when I was difficult. Thank you for taking the time to get to know me and thank you for showing me what love is. With you, I learned that home isn't just four walls; home is a tent in the middle of the woods, home is a cup of tea after a long day, home is being held in your arms when I need it the most— home is anywhere you're at.'' Simon sniffled, trying his best to hold back tears despite the way your figure was getting blurrier by the second.
''You showed me love, patience, care, and never once complained about me being difficult. I know I never told you, but I fell in love with you ever since I first saw you. I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind until I was unable to hide them any longer, and I know that if I ever did something right, it was falling in love with you.'' A single tear rolled down his cheek and he let it. There wasn't any shame on crying in front of you or his mates.
''I, Simon Riley, swear to protect you with everything I have. To be loyal, caring, faithful, honest, respectful, and kind. I promise I'll always be there for you. To listen to you, to make you laugh with my great jokes.'' Your giggle interrupted him, brown eyes shining with pure love.
''To cry with, to laugh with, to celebrate with. I make these promises in front of our loved ones, and I will keep them for as long as I live.'' He smiled down at you, leaning in for a kiss before realizing that he couldn't kiss you until the priest finished the ceremony. Instead, he leaned his forehead against yours, the look in his eyes telling you he will keep those promises forever.
A/N: little wedding fic I owed @connorsui , thank you for always supporting my content, your reblogs are always so much fun to read<3 and thank you so much to everyone, we made it to 3.5k a bit after I reached 3k<333
I'll start answering the asks I have pending!!<33
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 3 months
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Hello, hope you're doing alright. I have a pretty twisted one shot request concerning our amazing Shadowsinger. I was looking at the super natural dark dialogue prompts list and I feel like the #24 and #36 would fit perfectly for my request.
So basically: I was thinking about Azriel capturing the reader. She's a spy from the Spring Court and she was on a mission wandering at the border of the Night Court. When the reader wakes up, she's tied up in Azriel torture room. She also realizes how Azriel seems to be drawn to her. As she tries to find a way to make him untie her, she remembers something about Illyrians obssesion with bargains and deals. She offers to make a deal with him that the first one to make the other cum earn a favor. If she wins he spares her life, and if not he can kill her. And like as they conclude the pack, a tattoo appears on both of them and bla bla bla... and she ends up winning this challenge maybe?
Can't wait to see if you'll be willing to write this! I think it would have a lot of potential if written by you. Anyways, keep up your good work. I love your writing.
Okay, I know I said my next release would be the POM bonus bits, and then I’d be working on my other pieces, but I got this request and had immediate inspiration for it, so here it is!
Thank you to whoever sent this in! I hope I did it justice. It was very fun to write! I hope you enjoy 🫶🏻
The prompts you requested to be included in this will be written in bold.
Note: I haven’t tagged anyone in this because I desperately need to sort out my tag lists and haven’t had the chance. I’ll add them later if I get the time. Sorry!
Warnings: Smut! 18+, minors dni. NSFW. Some details of aggressive behaviour. Azriel being a sore ass LOSER.
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Lust is a Losing Game — Azriel x Reader.
You can feel the caress of Night before your eyes open.
Every single court you have trespassed and traversed has its own distinct feel. The Autumn Court feels perpetually — and unsurprisingly — like a stroll through a forest, touched by brisk air and hues of oranges, yellows, reds. Your home court — Spring — has a feeling of renewed hope; like the first rays of sun after a long, harsh winter.
The Night Court is blood-drenched, rippling darkness, and the allure of scandal, of want, of lust.
Night time is for secrets and exploration. It’s for burning the bridge between who you are in the daylight and becoming something…else. It’s exciting, and it’s coaxing, and—
Cold, sharp metal prods beneath your chin. Its point is lethal. Any wrong move, and you’re bleeding.
Perhaps even more lethal is the quiet voice that commands, “Eyes open.”
Slowly, you comply — because you are both intrigued and wise. Intrigued by where you went wrong and where you ended up. Wise, because you know that cold, granite voice.
It doesn’t surprise you in the least to open your eyes and find Azriel the shadowsinger stood in front of you, his blade at your throat.
You know of him, of course — spymaster of the Night Court, a rare species of fae, far more powerful than many realise. You’ve sat across from him during terse meetings between courts and been the target of those guarded, icy stares. You’ve never heard him utter more than a few words at a time; he is spoken for by reputation, by violence and threat and battle.
But you’d know that voice anywhere.
You peer up at him through eyes blurred by some sort of power. And when your lips tilt up into a smile, a subtle tick of his jaw tells you it incenses him.
“Hello, Azriel.” You rasp.
The blade presses into your skin as he asks, “What were you doing at the border of our court?”
“Picking wildflowers. Foraging berries. Making a daisy chain. All the things a lady loves to do.”
A quiet noise sounds in his throat. “Is that what you are? A lady?”
“I’m whatever you want me to be, shadowsinger.”
His answering smile is cruel. A harsher press, and his blade nicks your throat. A drop of warm blood blooms on your skin.
Your eyes, rapidly clearing, take quick stock of your surroundings. The room is dark and damp and cold, empty save for the chair on which you sit — to which you are constrained. You can scent the blood of a thousand previous victims of the shadowsinger, and you imagine the vacancy of the space must have been more intimidating to them, somehow, than if the room were filled to the brim with torture instruments. The lack thereof tells anyone who finds themselves here that the Night Court’s spymaster does not need such things to do his work.
You try to shift in the chair, and find yourself well and truly stuck in place. Your gaze drops to your feet, where shadows act as manacles, as firm and strong and steel. Though your hands are restrained around the back of the chair, the cool touch tells you that a shadow binds them, too.
Azriel follows your gaze. A smug smile graces his mouth as he watches you try and fail to move.
“An impressive little trick.” You offer, nodding to the shadows around your ankles. “Now be a gentleman and untie me.”
“Tell me what you were doing at our border, and maybe I will.”
“Tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine.”
“You’re not really in the position to barter, right now, are you?”
“And yet, here I am.” You smile. “Bartering.”
He stares down at you, shrouded in shadows, in night. His aloofness has been perfected over centuries, but you somehow know where to look in order to tell — you’re getting on his nerves.
A slight angling of his head. Shifting on his feet. He drags the tip of that blade up, not pressing quite hard enough to draw more blood, but to make a twisted heat enter your veins. The blade stops at your cheek.
“I don’t know how you do things in the Spring Court.” His breath caresses your face. “But I can’t imagine it’s part of your job description to be a smartass who can’t keep her mouth shut.”
Your eyes flick down to that blade. Back up to his gaze. “I can’t imagine it’s part of yours to lust over me so tirelessly.”
The shadowsinger actually falters.
Something tells you he would never do that in front of somebody else.
His teeth grit. He bites out, “Tell me why the fuck you were at the border—”
“I’ve seen you, you know.” A satisfied smirk curls your lips. You will not give away that your arms and legs are beginning to ache. “I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me for years.”
A clatter bounces off the walls as he tosses his dagger to the floor. Can’t be one that means much to him, then. You almost laugh, but a scarred hand is gripping your chin to the point of pain. He tilts — yanks — your chin up. “Pray, tell, how do I look at you?”
“With hunger.”
“Hatred.”
“Lust.”
“Loathing.”
“Like you want to touch me.”
“I am going,” he snarls, “to wrap my hands around your throat and—”
“Fuck me?”
“Kill you.”
A mocking pout puckers your lips. “Less sexy.”
"You must be a fool," his fingers bite into your skin, "to laugh in the face of such danger."
"What danger would that be? You've handed me your threats. What are you waiting for, Azriel? Kill me."
He could easily retrieve his blade and gut you then and there. You know it. He knows it.
And yet he doesn't do it.
He clenches his jaw so hard that you hear his teeth clash. He squeezes your chin, calluses and scars grazing you. It feels...good.
But then a growl is ripping from deep within his chest, and he's tearing his hand away and pivoting on the spot. He's confident enough in the shadow bindings to turn his back to you, clearly.
You just smile. He can't do it. Can't kill you.
"I'll do you the courtesy of asking one last time." His voice is strained. "Why were you snooping around our border."
"Perhaps I was hoping you'd find me and tie me to a chair. I'm into that kind of stuff, you know. We could make this fun."
"You think this room is intended for fun?"
"I think you and I could have fun anywhere, shadowsinger."
He says nothing. You watch as he sucks in a deep breath, steels himself. By his command, a shadow dances out and retrieves his blade from the floor. His fist flexes at his side.
Perhaps you can irritate him enough that he'll either kill you or let you leave out of pure exasperation. Or turn on the tears and plead innocence, that you're just a foolish, foolish girl doing her High Lord's bidding.
Or perhaps you can have fun.
You scan your brain for what you know about this court. How you can use it to your advantage — use Azriel to your advantage. An idea knits itself in the twisted avenues of your mind.
"This court has a thing for bargains, does it not?" You watch Azriel's shoulders tense at the sound of your voice. "How about making a bargain with me?"
He chokes on a scoff. "Why would I want to make a bargain with you?"
"Because you want me."
Slowly, he turns. His eyes are narrowed, mouth pinched. He looks two seconds away from using that blade to wipe your head clean from your neck.
But then he smiles, cruelly and coldly. "How very sure of yourself you sound."
You mimic that smile. "I am." Damn right you are. "So here is my deal: you toy with that lust however you like. We tease each other. Coax reactions from each other."
"Where is the bargain in that?" No outright refusal.
"If I make you cum first, shadowsinger," your eyes fall to his breeches. You could swear you glimpse the outline of a bulge. "If I make you cum first, I get to walk out of here with my head still attached to my body. But if you make me cum first...well. You get to know why I was snooping around the Night Court border, and you can send my head back to my High Lord in a pretty little box."
He stares at you for what feels like so, so long. Head to toe, his eyes rake over you. His shadows whisper in his ears, things you don't need nor care to hear.
Because you might not have his shadows, but you are a spy, just as he is. And you know his mind is already made up.
Shadowsinger, spymaster, feared member of the infamous Night Court — but still, a male weakened by lust. Lust for you that has driven him mad for a long, long time.
Still, he tries to keep up a front. He sneers at you, "You'd so willingly barter away your life?"
You smile. Simply, prettily. "It turns me on."
Oh, he's lost to his need. There's a newer scent that has joined the present ones of cedar and night-chilled mist and bloodstains. This one is deeper, smokier. Spicier.
He points his blade at you, the tip glimmering. And the shadow binds fall away as he demands, "Undress."
Your hands fall back to your sides. "Are you saying you agree to my terms?"
"Yes. Now take. Your fucking. Clothes off."
"What way is that to talk to a lady?"
"You are no lady—" His words fall short as, with a snap of your fingers, your clothes disappear. Leave you in nothing but your undergarments. His eyes drink in the brassiere, the silky little fabric that hangs from your hips. He swallows. "And I am no gentleman."
A spy you may be — someone who throws themself into danger and risk and dirt and blood, time and time again. But you never see a reason not to wear pretty underwear while doing so. And gods, in this moment, you're very glad of that choice.
It's the same colour as the siphons that adorn the male before you. The coldness in Azriel's eyes is replaced by intense, raw heat. He takes a step towards you, but you kick out a leg.
"Your turn." You say.
He pauses. Chucks his dagger aside again.
And then his clothes are gone.
He doesn't seem the slightest bit fazed by the fact that he stands utterly naked before you. So much golden, sculpted skin on show. All over, white scars tell the stories of previous injuries. His body is a novel written over time.
That silky underwear of yours is already soaked as you take your fill of him. For a moment, you think you might stumble in your bravado. He's huge and hard and standing to attention. Utterly perfect.
But you sit up straight in the chair and plant your hands on the arms. Your legs part, and Azriel hungrily tracks the movement.
"There is only one rule." You tell him. "We don't want to make this too easy, after all."
His jaw flexes. Eyes don't stray from the growing damp patch between your thighs. "What's the rule."
"You can touch me. You can lick me. You can put your cock in my mouth and my hand and rub it against my skin. But you can't fuck me."
He starts, pupils blowing wide. "But—"
"Not today." Your lips curl up. "But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me."
"You are wicked."
"Do you accept my rule?"
"Yes."
You are wicked, indeed. You widen that gap between your legs until you're hooking them over the arms of the chair. Baring your silk-covered cunt to him. His eyes damn near roll into the back of his head at the sight.
"Do you think you can stand to touch me without fucking me?" You hum, your fingers dancing down to that, sweet, sweet spot. You run them over the dampness, biting your lip. "I don't think you can."
"You underestimate me." Azriel growls. "And you're going to cum first."
There is no opportunity for you to volley a response. Not as Azriel surges forward and yanks you out of the chair, his arms securing you. His firm, velvety cock presses against your stomach. His lips slide over yours in a harsh, bruising kiss.
A male of natural elegance and grace, he doesn't even falter in the kiss or his steps as he marches you back, back, until you're pressed up against a cold wall. You nip his bottom lip and reach between your bodies, wanting to feel the pulsing weight of his cock in your palm, but his hands are grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head.
"No hands." He snarls onto your lips. "Just my cock and your cunt. Whoever cums first is the loser."
You almost want to laugh. So, so easy this will be.
But then he's letting go of your hands and pinning you with a knee. And out of fucking nowhere, a slim bottle appears between his fingers. You watch, leaning against the cold surface of the wall, as he pulls the stopper out of the bottle and tilts it towards you.
Oil drips onto your chest. Rolls down your breasts, your stomach. Azriel watches with predatory focus as it floods to where he wants it — soaking your underwear.
The blue silk darkens, sticks to your skin. Showcases everything that Azriel so desperately wants, but everything he will not get — today.
And then so quickly, he's hoisting your leg at his hip. So quickly, his cock is pressing into your soaking undergarments.
He positions his length between your thighs and guides it through your clothed folds. Both of you let out an immediate gasp at the taunting sensation — that a mere bit of fabric separates you from what you both want.
"Is this how you're going to play it?" Your head falls back, teeth digging into your lower lip. "You think thrusting through my clothes is going to stop you from cumming?"
"No." He makes a small noise, slowly rolling his hips. Watches his glistening cock rubbing against the silk. "But I think I'm going to make you cum fast from it."
"And then you get to kill me."
"And then," the head of his cock nudges your clit, "I get to kill you."
The sensation is divine, you can’t deny it. A coiled, aching pleasure that sits tightly in your lower belly. Azriel hears your intake of breath, and he smiles like this will be easy for him. You’re having none of that.
You’re thankful for your refined stealth and balance as you clamp your leg tighter around him, pull him harder against you. His hands press flat against the wall either side of your head, and you both gasp as his cock rubs so torturously against you, up and down and up and down.
“Gods,” He grunts, dipping down to brush his lips against yours. “This is torture.”
You smile. “Does it feel good?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to remove my underwear? You still can’t fuck me, though.”
A suffering groan chokes out of him, and he throws his head back. Because yes, he fucking wants you to remove your underwear. Yes, he wants to feel his bare skin rubbing against your bare skin.
But gods, the temptation to slide his cock into you is going to be unbearable.
But even though he knows that, and you know that, he smiles like this is nothing. He bites out, pleasure wavering his voice, “Why not? It’ll only make you lose.”
“I think you’re giving yourself a little too much credit.” You say, and then your underwear is gone, leaving you naked and dripping with nothing to shield you.
Not expecting it so fast, Azriel’s cock slides easily through your folds — and the head nudges your entrance. Very nearly slips in. He growls and halts the roll of his hips.
“Oops.” You smirk. “Careful, shadowsinger.”
“You’re fucking insufferable.” He bites back, and then he’s kissing you.
The kiss robs you of breath and of words. All you can do is twine your arms around his neck and welcome the sensation of him fucking through your folds, your wetness his pleasure. You’re lost to the feeling of him bumping against your clit, rubbing against it. Your legs are beginning to tremble.
“I want to fuck you.” Azriel moans, dropping his head to take in the sight of his cock against your pussy, never entering, never going deeper.
“I know.” Your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “And you have wanted to for a very long time.”
“Yes.” He can’t even deny it. “Yes.”
“You think about me.”
“Yes.”
“You wonder what it’s like to be inside me.”
“Yes.”
“But not today.” Your hands stroke down his muscled arms, and you moan as he grinds his cock against your clit. “Not today.”
“Nor any other day.” His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head up. “Because I will have your head. Cum for me, lady.”
He kisses you again, and gods, you want to cum. Every single inch of you begs and trembles for it. You’re clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you, fucking into you, spilling into you—
But through your pleasured haze, you remember: you will be victorious. Azriel cannot win.
And so when he’s kissing you and kissing you, moans catching in his throat and landing in your mouth, hips faltering with every thrust, you pull your lips from his and sink your teeth into his neck with a harsh bite. You’ve always imagined he’d like that.
And simultaneously, you lock him between your thighs and roll your hips torturously slow, dragging every last sensation from him.
Azriel’s cock, nestled snugly between the folds of your cunt, spasms and twitches. He slams his hands against the wall and goes still. Tries to pull back the control.
But it’s too late for that.
“Fuck!” He shouts, and then ropes of cum are spurting out of him and landing on your stomach, your breasts, your arms. Beads of it roll down his cock. He trembles hard, panting, groaning, growling.
And you suck harshly at his neck. Suck until it leaves a mark. And then pull away with a smile.
Breathing so, so heavily, Azriel’s gaze drops down to his cock like the damn thing has betrayed him. He’s wide-eyed and outraged. He’s not sure what’s just happened.
A horrid longing still aches between your legs and makes you want to continue until you’re exploding, too. But the triumph of a win is pleasure in itself.
“Well, well, well.” You glance down at the cum now coating your skin. “I do believe I was right.”
“What—” Azriel breathes, shaking out of his lust. “What kind of witchcraft was that?” He touches his neck, where you bit him. As though the answer lies there.”
You shrug. “No witchcraft, though I’m flattered you think so. You simply lost the game.”
“I. Don’t. Lose.”
“You just did.” You pat his shoulder. “There, there.”
He rips away, so fast that you almost fall. “Get the fuck away from me.”
“Gladly.” With a snap of your fingers, you’re squeaky clean and clothed once more. Azriel’s clothes return, too. “And I’ll do so with my pretty head still on my shoulders—
“Get out.”
“Because I won the game—”
“Get. Out.”
“A bargain’s a bargain, after all—”
“I will not tell you again.” His hand grabs the back of your neck, hard enough to bruise, and he marches you to the door, yanking it open. “Out.”
You’re thrown into a dim-lit hallway, your body colliding with a cold brick wall. You throw Azriel a smile over your shoulder, despite your teeth singing at the impact.
“Try not to wank over me too much!” You call, as he slams the door shut behind him. “See you around!”
It’s only once you’ve winnowed back to your own court, and you’re bathing the day from your skin, that you notice the small black band inked into your upper arm. You scrub at it until it’s red raw. It doesn’t budge.
The mark of a bargain. But you had always believed that the tattoos of bargains disappeared once the terms were fulfilled…
But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me…
It had all been bravado. And yet…it had unwittingly been woven into the bargain.
Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me.
That’s the only way you’re getting that mark off your skin.
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runnning-outof-time · 10 months
Text
Is That How You Remember It? | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by anonymous
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader
Summary: (Y/N) finds some discrepancies in the story of how they first met that Tommy tells their children…so she decides to give her own rendition of the story.
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff and one (1) bad word
Word Count: 2671
A/N: I absolutely loved writing this request! It was so fun to cococt backstories for Tommy and his bride, but of course I didn’t do it alone. Thanks so much to @mrs-bellingham and this lovely anon who answered my call to help and gave me amazing ideas of how they first met! I couldn’t have written this story this well without you. Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
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"What are we doing in here, eh?" Tommy asked his two daughters as he entered the front sitting room, where some of their toys were also stored.
"Daddy!" the two little girls exclaimed in unison, rising from the floor so that they could run over to him for a hug. Tommy crouched down as they stopped in front of him, giving each of them a hug.
"We're playing family!" Anna, the six year old answered, a beaming smile on her face.
"Yeah! And Anna let me be the mummy this time!" Josephine, the four year old, chimed in, her smile matching her sister's.
"I'm practicing taking turns," Anna said proudly and Tommy nodded, happy that his daughter was trying to do what he and (Y/N) had advised her to. Too many needless arguments had happened over who got to be the mummy of the family every time this game was played.
"Where is your mum?" Tommy asked then, knowing that at least one of the girls had to have known where (Y/N) was at.
"Mummy's upstairs with Theo," Josephine answered, mentioning their baby brother.
"She's trying to get him to sleep, and she said that we don't have to today because we're playing nicely," Anna informed him of what their mother had said.
"We're big girls now!" Josephine grinned.
"You most certainly are," Tommy nodded, smiling at his children.
"Can you come play with us, daddy?" Anna asked, showing him the best puppy dog pout that she could pull.
He thought about her proposal for a moment. There were surely piles of papers stacked upon his desk, waiting for him to read through. But he'd just gotten home for the office, where he'd spent the most of his morning and early afternoon working nonstop on things that needed to be completed. Work could wait, he decided...he needed to spend some time with his family.
"Daddy?" Josephine asked, the young child getting impatient with the waiting.
"I'll play with you," he nodded, answering both of the girls' questions, making them squeal in response before they each grabbed one of his hands and pulled him to where they'd been playing with their dolls.
Tommy sat on the floor with them, accepting the doll they offered and fell right into playing the game they'd been engaged in before he came home. The girls loved that he got so invested in the game, even making voices for the several dolls they'd handed him along the way. He was always all of the other characters that their two favorite dolls would meet.
They played and played, losing track of time before the girls started bickering with each other, fighting over who got to do what and be the hero of the story they were acting out. Those creative differences ended with the girls sitting on the couch with Tommy in the middle so that they could have some space from each other.
"Can you tell us a story, daddy?" Anna asked as she got comfortable tucked into her father's side.
"What story do you want?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as he looked down at her.
"Tell the story of how you met mumma!" Josephine exclaimed, a wide smile on her face.
"You want to hear that?" Tommy checked, looking between both of the girls, who were nodding their heads profusely. "Ok," he nodded, taking a deep breath as he got himself ready to recount how he met his lovely wife, (Y/N).
Both of the girls got comfortable, Josephine hugging onto one of the couch's pillows and Anna staying tucked into Tommy's side with her head resting on his bicep.
"I met your mum when I was going to eat dinner at a restaurant..." he started off, glancing between his daughters again to see that they were still interested in where the story was going to go.
"Were you there with anyone?" Anna interjected with a question.
"Yeah, was uncle Arthur with you?" Josephine followed with her own.
Tommy chuckled, knowing how this story was going to be told. The girls always seemed to turn certain storytimes into a mini question and answer session. He didn't mind it though...he always thought of it as them being intrigued in the story he was telling. "No, I was there by myself. I had wanted to get some food. But then I saw your mum before I could sit down at one of the empty tables. She was sitting by herself so I walked over to her and introduced myself to her..."
"Was it love at first sight?" Anna asked, a wide smile on her face.
"I'd say it was for me," Tommy admitted, not caring about sounding like a softy in front of his girls.
"That's so sweet, daddy!" Anna exclaimed, hugging onto his arm.
"Your mum was beautiful," Tommy laughed slightly to himself as he admitted it, "and she looked sad sitting by herself, so I slid into the empty chair and told her 'we'd better not let this dinner go to waste' after asking her what the problem was," he recounted more of the memory.
"And what did mummy say?" Josephine eagerly asked for more details.
"She told me that she was supposed to meet another boy, but that boy didn't show up and she was sad because of it."
"Well I'm happy that you're my daddy instead of that boy...he doesn't sound nice because he was mean to mummy," Anna stated, a scowl now present on her face.
"I'm happy that boy wasn't there either, because I wouldn't have met your mother had she not been sitting by herself," Tommy agreed with her daughter, his smile returning.
"Is that how you remember it?" (Y/N)'s voice came from the archway to the room, making the three sitting on the couch turn to see her leaning against the wall.
"Mummy!" Josephine exclaimed the second she noticed who was speaking, "mummy come sit over here! Daddy's telling us the story of how you met!"
Tommy swallowed as his eyes connected with his wife's. He could tell by the grin on her face that she wasn't going to let the recounting of his story stand as the first time they met.
"Daddy's telling you a story of how we met, but it wasn't the first time we met," (Y/N) stated as she walked over to where her family was sitting.
"What do you mean?" Anna asked, a perplexed expression present on her face as she watched her mum sit down on the chair situated next to the couch.
"The dinner was the second time your dad and I met," she explained, smiling as Josephine slid off of the couch and clambered up onto her lap. "I could tell you of the first time we met," she added, her smile turning into a mischievous grin.
"Love..." Tommy trailed off in a warning tone, raising his eyebrows as his eyes connected with hers. Seeing this only made (Y/N)'s grin grow, and he sighed at the sight of it, knowing that there was no changing her mind now.
"Tell us, mummy!" Anna exclaimed, excitement present in her voice as Josephine added her own agreement to her big sister's words.
(Y/N) sent Tommy a smug grin, one that he rolled his eyes at, before she began telling the story, "so when your daddy and I were younger, for one summer we both worked at the same, big property that had bunches of horses on it. While your daddy was out with the horses, I was helping the lady of the house with whatever she needed done..."
"Like how Miss Jane and Miss Bea help out here?" Anna chimed into the story with a curious question, mentioning the two, younger maids whose main jobs were to make sure that Arrow House was kept tidy.
"Yes, much like what they do," (Y/N) nodded before continuing with her story, "the man of the house used to allow his workers access to the stables so that they could ride the horses on certain evenings...he was a very kind man, one who many enjoyed working for..."
Tommy interjected into the story then with a snort, making (Y/N)'s eyes find him. She knew he was scoffing at her remembrance of their boss, but she saw nothing wrong in the man. Tommy, of course, had a different type of relationship with him, one that included him getting thrown off of the estate along with another worker before the summer was finished because he fought said worker due to him mistreating the horses. The girls wouldn't hear that part of the story as well.
"This night happened to be the first that I went to. Some of the other ladies who worked with me in the house got me to come out and join the other staff for the evening. It turns out they were using the horses to have impromptu races, and..."
"Daddy was one of the racers on the horses?" Josephine finished off her mother's sentence, looking up at (Y/N) with complete awe.
(Y/N) laughed softly at her daughter's eagerness to learn more before she nodded her head, "yes, dad was one of the riders."
"And that's how you met?" Anna asked, a similar awestruck expression on her face. She shared her father's love for horses, so to hear that the whimsical beasts were involved in her parents' meeting made her extremely excited.
"Yes..."
"And that's the end of the story, my loves," Tommy cut (Y/N) off before she could finish her sentence, starting to stand from the couch.
"Oh, not quite," (Y/N) said before he could get very far, her grin growing as she re-gained the attention of the children.
"What else happened, mummy?" Josephine asked for the details.
"Yeah, did daddy pull you onto the horse and you went for a ride together?" Anna jumped in with a question of her own, stars practically present in her eyes now.
"He didn't exactly pull me onto the horse..." (Y/N) trailed off, suppressing a giggle as she looked over to Tommy, who now had a deadpan expression on his face. She was now going to tell the part that he wished he could erase from time. "Your dad was racing one of the other workers and the race finished super closely. He stopped his horse right next to where I was standing and sent me a smile...I didn't know who he was, so I just smiled back at him, but I did think that he was cute..."
"Eww!!!" both of the girls exclaimed in unison at their mother's comment.
"Boys have cooties, mummy!" Anna exclaimed with a look of disgust present on her face.
"Yeah, but daddy doesn't have cooties, Anna...just boys that we don't know have cooties," Josephine jumped in, applying her four year old logic to the situation.
"You're absolutely right, Josie," Tommy agreed with his daughter, a proud grin on his face. What he'd been telling her was working. If he could get his way, she wouldn't be marrying until she was thirty...both of his girls wouldn't for that matter; they were his everything and he was going to protect them with his life. Them along with their mother and younger brother.
"Can you keep telling the story, mummy?" Anna asked, wanting to hear more of how her parents first met, "was daddy really nice to you?"
"Well he didn't exactly get the chance to talk to me..." (Y/N) trailed off again, stifling more giggles and glancing at Tommy before continuing, "his foot got stuck in the stirrup when he went to get off the horse and he fell right into the puddle of mud in front of me," she told the girls of their father's embarrassing moment, making them shriek with laughter.
"That's cause I was only used to riding bloody bareback until then," Tommy grumbled, a pout on his face.
"You got all covered in mud, daddy, didn't you?!" Anna excitedly asked, turning to look at Tommy for his input.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hold his frown, and he tipped his head to each side as a smile formed on his face. He was truly buying time until he could cope with his bruised ego before facing the little girls’ teasing. "I wasn't that covered...your mum still knew who I was," he answered them, defending his pride.
"I had to ask someone who you were," (Y/N) admitted with a grin, enjoying the grilling that he was getting from his own two kids. Tommy shot her a playful glare, one that dissolved into a grin seconds later. Sure, it was embarrassing at the time, but looking back on it made him realize how funny the situation actually was. "But then you saved me the next time you saw me at the restaurant, and it was all history from there," she brought them back to the original story that Tommy had told them, her teasing grin softening into a fond smile.
"Mummy, that's such a cute story," Josephine said once the family's laughter had subsided. She had the most adorable look on her face, one that warmed (Y/N)'s heart immediately.
"It is, isn't it?" she agreed with her daughter before looking over at Tommy again.
Tommy was already in bed, reading over the day's newspaper, when (Y/N) entered the master bedroom from the attached bath. "Ready for bed?" he asked her, pulling the glasses off of the bridge of his nose as he admired her body that was now covered in a silk slip.
"I am," she nodded, sending him a smile as she moved to her side of the bed and pulled the covers back so that she could climb in under them.
Tommy set the newspaper and glasses down on his nightstand before he slid down lower on the bed.
"The girls really seemed to enjoy that story today," (Y/N) remarked as she scooted over to her husband's side.
Tommy allowed her to, slipping his arm underneath her so that he could pull her body closer to his. "They did," he agreed with her statement, thinking back to the excited looks on both of the girls' faces. Silence fell between them then as they settled in for sleep. "I won that fuckin' race," Tommy remarked out of nowhere, the sound of his voice making it apparent that that part of the story had been on his mind for some time.
(Y/N) sat up slightly on the bed so that she'd be able to see him. The second she looked at his face, her neutral expression cracked and she erupted into a fit of giggles. Tommy sent her a look that asked 'what's so funny?', which made her try to curtail her laughter so that she could answer him. "If telling yourself that'll help your ego, love, keep on with it," she said, patting him on the chest as her laughter kicked up again.
Tommy rolled his eyes at his wife's antics, shaking his head slightly as he let her have her moment. He couldn't help but smile as he watched her. Hearing that story reminded him of how unbelievably lucky he was to have stumbled upon her at the restaurant a few months after his embarrassing first attempt to get to know her. "I still got you in the end, didn't I?" he asked her, his words making her focus on him again.
"You did," she grinned, leaning in to kiss him.
"Then I've won more than that race had to offer," he mumbled against her lips before kissing them again. His words made her giggle, her laughter getting trapped as she continued kissing him.
They fell asleep with smiles on their faces that night, slipping into the bliss that surrounded both the memories of their first meeting, and the anticipation of making many more memories together.
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Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife
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rainforest-daisies · 7 months
Text
Day 12|strap-ons
Character: Hazel Callahan x fem!reader
Tags: strap-on use, praise,
A/n: i love this little queer woman right here
kinktober masterlist
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Where did you get that thing?” a grin rose to your face, eyes trailing across her body, noticing the hot pink silicone strapped against her pelvis. The ribbed fabric that indented her gym shorts remained in place as she swung the dildo around, giggling at its motion. “I found it at Spencers.” her hands pulled at the straps, beginning to pose in an attempt to make you laugh.
You had been at her house, watching old horror movies, when she suddenly hopped out of bed, using the explanation of “gotta piss.” and shocking you when she came back with that over her shorts.
“And you just…bought it?” flexing her arm in front of you, putting on a serious face, she replied, “Uh…yeah.”
“I mean, I was kinda hoping we could use it.” her voice turned raspy at the end of her sentence, voice quieting in embarrassment as she moved back to a regular standing position. “I wouldn't hate using it…especially since it's strapped to you.” your words made her eyes light up. “really? I mean we don't have to, not that I don't want to! I really, really want to.” your body lifted from her bed, Hazel walking closer to you, hands meeting your waist. the feeling of the silicone pressing against your thigh made you giggle, prompting Hazel to do the same.
A sigh left her lips after the fit of laughter, parting her lips to speak, “Can I kiss you? And while I still have self-control, can I touch you too?” you answer her question by kissing her, and clutching her hand to drag it down your torso. her hand grazed the hem of your dress, pulling it up slowly, distracted by the sweet taste of your lips. yet, her fingers were quick to pull your panties to the side, the swift movement feeling like whiplash. “This okay?” she mumbled between kisses, “Mhm.”
Her skilled fingers toyed with your clit, dragging your hand up to press it against her chest, as if it kept you grounded, kept you from floating away in pleasure.
“C’mere, let's get up on the bed. get on my lap, honey.” her voice hypnotized you, nodding at her, desperate to get her lips back on yours. your hips met her abdomen, “do you think you're ready?” you quickly nodded, grasping the cock in your hands and positioning yourself to slide down on it.
The sharp sting of fullness in your cunt made your hands fall against her shoulders, “Go on, baby. You're doing so good.” your hips sank onto the silicone cock, lips parting to let out the cutest whimper Hazel had ever heard. ”so good.” her eyes were transfixed on your tits bouncing in your dress, holding herself from the urge of kissing you again, just to stare at them.
“Oh fuck- right there.” her hands guided your hips down on the plastic cock, unknowingly grinding the base of it against her own clothed clit in the midst of your desperate pleasure. her thumb trailed itself down to your clit, rubbing circles, following your body as it pushed itself up and down. “you close? yeah? I can hear those pretty moans getting louder.” her voice sweet-talked you, bringing you closer to your impending climax. your hips began to rut down harder, grinding harder against her, causing a drawn out moan to leave her lips.
Your impending orgasm soon came to its peak, clasping onto Hazel's shoulders as you moaned into her ear, hitting the perfect angle on her clit, sending her spiraling into orgasm with you. you held each other, listening to the heavy breaths of one another, hazel pulling away to kiss your forehead.
Your body rolled off of hers, chest heaving while trying to catch your breath. “Thank you for buying this stupid piece of plastic, I had fun.”
“Thank you for letting me use that stupid piece of plastic on you, i had fun too.”
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Text
Protector AU: First Meeting
Lucifer: Okay, so Razzle and Dazzle are doing a good job protecting Charlie, but....
Kid Charlie: Baaa! (Headbutts Razzle)
Lucifer: ......She needs a person around.... Fuck... (pulls out his phone and dials a number)
Adam: (answers) Fuck you want?
Lucifer: Look. I don't like you, and you don't like me. But.... I need a favor.
Adam: Oh-Ho! And why would I help you?
Lucifer: I can literally make you the best barbecue ribs in all of creation.
Adam: ........Whatchu need?
Lucifer: I need a bodyguard for my daughter. She's five years old and needs another person around.
Adam: Say no more, asshole. I got the perfect girl for ya.
Lucifer: Oh! Thank Heavens! Can you bring her down tonight? I'll make those ribs, and we can all get acquainted.
Adam: Yeah, yeah, sure. Sounds good. Whatever.
-Later-
Lucifer: (eye twitch)
Adam: Soooo, what do you think?
Lucifer: (gazing down at kid Vaggie, who is trying to stand up straight as professionally as possible woth a small, child sized spear and a nervous look in her eye) She's... a girl.
Adam: Yup!
Lucifer: A LITERAL girl.
Adam: Sure is! One of my best in this age bracket!
Lucifer: I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO BRING AN ADULT!!!!
Adam: Why would I waste one of my best girls on your daughter?
Lucifer: (steaming mad)
Kid Charlie: Daddy, is my new friend here yet? (Sees kid Vaggie trying to stand tall and official) GASP!!! Hi!!! I'm Charlie!!!
Kid Vaggie: (blushes and backs up half a step) .....Vadgie.
Kid Charlie: (bounds up to Vaggie like an excited puppy) It's so nice to meet you, Vaggie! Oh, my gosh! You have wings! They're so cool! Can I touch them? Please?
Kid Vaggie: (blushing at the much better sounding mispronounced version of her name as she slowly backs up more) N-No, please.
Kid Charlie: (steps forward) Please?! They look so soft! And you're really pretty!
Kid Vaggie: (baby gay panics and starts running around the adults' legs in a circle)
Kid Charlie: Oh! Tag! I love tag! I'm it! (Starts chasing Vaggie in circles while giggling)
Lucifer: .........
Adam: Have fun, asshole! (Disappears)
Lucifer: (continues watching Charlie chase Vaggie around the foyer) Yaaaaaaay.....
285 notes · View notes
runningfrom2am · 5 months
Note
Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!
as long as you need me - c.s
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pairing: coryo x fem!reader
wc: 1.7k
tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.
requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)
nav / coriolanus snow masterlist
a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!
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You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 
"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.
"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.
"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.
"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"
"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.
"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"
"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.
"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"
"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."
"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.
At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.
Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.
These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.
Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.
"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.
"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.
"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."
Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.
"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.
"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.
"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."
"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.
The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.
"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."
Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.
Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.
You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.
You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.
Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.
"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.
As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."
He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"
He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.
"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.
He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.
Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."
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taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, 
1K notes · View notes
bratphilia · 6 months
Text
his bunny (w. afton x reader)
request: "hii!! i have been obsessed with your lillard!afton fics lately and i just have to ask you to write another. i was wondering if you could do something like afab! reader is a student in college and william is her engineering professor? she is purposefully failing his class just to get his attention and some “extra credit”. but little does she know william has been obsessed with her ever since she stepped foot in his class. if it helps, teachers pet by melanie martinez could have a huge influence on this. thank you so so much!! ♡♡"
note: thank you so much, i'm glad you've been enjoying the content i've been putting out! fun fact i was obsessed with this song when k-12 first came out. also professor!william has been on my mind recently so i'm glad you requested this!! the e-mail section is a little awkward because i absolutely hate using "y/n"
pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader
tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m receiving), facial, dirty talk, slut-shaming, mean dom!william, desk sex
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engineering. your worst class. not because you were bad at it or anything. it was all your professor.
and no, not because he's a bad teacher either. he's just so fucking hot it makes your brain go fuzzy every time he speaks. he lectures with his large hands enthusiastically. he always wears some form of purple on him, whether it's a tie or his slacks. everything about him is so intoxicating.
but he's never noticed you.
not when you try to catch his eye before and after class. not when you greet him with a "good morning, sir." and every time you've attended his office hours, a fucking ta helps you every single time. it's making you go crazy, not getting what you want.
you even started to wear increasingly skimpier outfits. you always stick to a theme of a sexy school girl, even going as far enough to buy more short skirts and thigh high socks or leg warmers. the buttons of the blouses you wear paired with them are always unbuttoned just to show a peak of cleavage. you ignore the hungry and curious eyes of your other peers as you walk by them; it's not their attention you want. still, you feel a little silly putting in all this effort just for him to barely grumble a reply back to you at your futile efforts to talk to him.
so you put a plan in action. you either purposefully turn in every piece of homework late and answer most, if not all, the questions of your quizzes and mid-term until you're sure you're at the very bottom of the class grades-wise.
in fact, you wake up the day after your mid-term to an e-mail from professor raglan. the subject was titled "Meeting Request" with your name addressed at the beginning.
"I would like to arrange a meeting with you to discuss the current state of your progress in my class. After your most recent assessment and previous assignments, I'm concerned about your future in my class if you continue the pattern I am seeing reflected in your work. Let me know if tonight at 5:00pm works for you.
Thank you,
Professor Raglan"
any regular person's heart would have sunk to the pit of their stomach if they received that e-mail. however, you are not a normal person. your heart fucking soars. you immediately jump to respond in confirmation.
professor raglan knows better than to get caught up with students, but he just can't help it! you're too beautiful to ignore.
the craziest part is he knows what game you're playing. the outfits that reflect nothing but a stereotypical, sexy school girl you would see in a porn video. and especially the way your grades have dropped recently, when you started off being one of the brightest students in his class.
over time, he noticed your lack of participation in class. at first, he chalked it up to something more serious, like personal issues. and then he noticed those lingering stares, the way you chew your pen, twirl your hair, and rub your thighs together. he knows exactly what you're doing, and he's been ignoring you on purpose. he wants you to chase after him, to let him know what you really want, but you just won't. he partially doesn't blame you either, it would be highly inappropriate for a student to engage that way towards their professor. so he ignores you during class. he barely acknowledges the way you've tried to grab his attention.
steve more than reciprocates your feelings. in fact, he's probably more enamored with you than you can possible imagine. he has all your homework, your essays, even your mid-term saved digitally in a folder, with your name as the title, on his computer. he reads looks over them when he's taking a break from grading as a way to detox, which sometimes ends up in him masturbating thinking about you. he loves to read the failed work from his dumb little bunny.
he even followed you home once. he kept close distance away from you, hiding in the shadows of every corner you turned. it's the william in him that wants that does the stalking, he convinces himself. the hyde to his jekyll; his true self coming to show in the role he plays of an average college professor, a totally normal guy with a few quirks.
your room, conveniently let him catch a peep of you touching yourself, and you swore you saw you mouth the word 'professor' when you brought yourself to orgasm.
and so he decides to play your little game. after all, you created the perfect opportunity for him, and he's going to take the bait.
steve sits at his desk, grading the rest of the mid-term papers, while he awaits your arrival. your own paper is sitting separate from the other stack, easily accessible so the two of you can get straight to "talking" about it as soon as possible.
he hears a tell-tale knock at his door, and he tries not to answer with a smile in his voice as he calls out, "come in."
you open the door gingerly, and it takes everything in him not to eye you up and down, but at first glance he knows you're in your usual get-up. it's a pretty little number; white, short-sleeved blouse, black pleated skirt that stops around mid-thigh, and white socks that reach just above your knees. you smile at him, hands clasped behind your back, puffing forward your chest slightly.
"good evening, professor raglan," you say in an oh-so innocent tone, "you wanted to speak with me?"
god, the way you call him professor goes straight to his cock. "yes. sit down," he tells you, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk.
you sit down and your professor clasps his hands, leaning back in his chair. "i hope my e-mail didn't worry you. this will be quick."
he watches your face fall at his last few words and he has to bite back his amusement. "you see," he starts, taking your paper and pretending to look at your paper, "you didn't answer a single thing correctly. everything was wrong. it's funny, because i've heard nothing but good reports from the ta's that have helped you during office hours."
you lean closer as he continues. a plethora of excuses come to mind, none of which seem adequate for the situation he's putting it. "so i'm just wondering, how dumb do you think i am?"
your mouth slightly falls open. that was not the reaction you intended to invoke from him. "i—i can explain, i just need more—"
he rolls his eyes. "don't give me that. i'm not an idiot like you clearly are."
if anyone else had called you an idiot, you would have been offended, but from him? it goes straight to your pussy.
you purse your lips and rub your thighs together, waiting for him to continue to berate you. "is it extra credit you want?"
"yes, professor," you answer.
"then get on your knees, slut."
he rolls his chair back to make room for you and watches as you make your way in front of him. you get on your knees as he instructed, waiting expectantly.
"do i have to do everything for you?" he sighs in faux disappointment. he loves your shocked reaction that this is even really happening to you. "you wanted this so take my cock out."
"no, professor," you mumble, reaching for the buttons of his slacks. there's an obvious bulge tenting in his pants that almost makes you salivate.
you pull out his cock from his boxers and he shivers at how cold your hands are. you must be freezing wearing that outfit, he realizes. and, fuck, are your hands so much smaller that his. you begin by pumping him and then reach to kitten lick his tip.
you start to suck on the tip and he sucks air between his teeth sharply. it feels like heaven but he can't take your teasing anymore. he grasps your hair, making a make shift ponytail, and guides your mouth to slowly lower down on his cock. you moan around him causing a pleasurable vibration. he continues to use your hair as a way to control your mouth moving in a slow, up and down motion.
"ah — shit — stay still for me, yeah, baby?" he asks breathlessly. you do as he says, keeping your neck still as he begins to thrust into your mouth.
he bucks into you, grunting about what a "tight mouth you have" and how "you're such a dirty whore for your professor." you moan around his cock at his words, only encouraging his movements. the gurgling and gawk noises coming from your throat make him impossibly harder. the grasp on your hair becomes tighter and his thrusts more erratic. he's close.
before steve comes, he moves your mouth off and begins pumping himself. you watch him eagerly as he never breaks eye contact from you. when he does, it's when he shuts his eyes and groans, spurts of his come painting your face, your neck, and top.
you look so beautiful like this, he thinks, but it comes out as, "you look like such a messy whore."
you blush and lick the ejaculate around your mouth. steve grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet. you feel a little unstable but he's pushing you face forward against his desk. he lifts your skirt, which he doesn't bother taking off, only to reveal your thong. of course.
"were you expecting this?" he asks with a chuckle. he pulls your thong and lets it snap against your ass, making you yelp.
"no, but i came prepared," you say boldly.
he tsks. "such a slut."
steve prods his cock at your entrance, making you wiggle your hips when he slides it up and down your slit. you wish he would just stick it in already, but he's bent on teasing you until you can't take it anymore. he wants you to beg for him.
he moves your hair to the side to whisper in your ear. "tell me what you want, bunny."
you whimper at the close proximity. you can feel his beard brushing against your cheek. "need your cock, sir. been wanting it for awhile."
"oh, i know," he says, and you can feel the smile spreading across his face. "just wanted to hear you say it."
with that he presses inside of you, filling you up inch by inch, agonizingly slow. you whine desperately, wanting more. your fingers dig into the desk. he slips out for a moment and slams back in, filling you to the hilt. from that point forward, he starts thrusting at gradually faster pace.
the room is obscenely filled with the sounds of both of your pants and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. he punctuates every thrust with a degrading phrase. it gets you even hotter.
before you know it you're close. clawing behind you, desperate to grab something, he takes both of your hands and holds them against the desk, giving a flurry of hard, fast thrusts. moans and whines tumble from your lips as you feel your body completely captured by an orgasm that makes you weak in the knees.
steve pulls out and comes on your back with a groan himself, incoherently slurring words of "whore" "slut" and "dumb bunny." he buries his face in the crook of your neck, attitude completely doing a 360.
"you did so well for me, sweetheart."
570 notes · View notes
elvensorceress · 15 days
Text
not quite tuesday tidbit teases
it's probably tuesday somewhere and this just popped in my head and I wanted to share. what do you think? do we want more?
tagging if any of you want to share something 😘 @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @messyhairdiaz @rainbow-nerdss @tizniz @spotsandsocks @daffi-990 @monsterrae1 @diazsdimples @watchyourbuck @wh0re-behavi0r @911onabc @chaosandwolves @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @rogerzsteven @epicbuddieficrecs @bekkachaos @fiona-fififi @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @the-likesofus @hoodie-buck @lover-of-mine @mikereads @jesuiscenseedormir @lemonzestywrites 💕
It’s just after midnight and Buck is going to bed. 
He’s been saying this for a couple hours but YouTube had too many AItA videos and Instagram had those gorgeously edited food recipe posts and he doesn’t even want to talk about the doomscrolling of TikTok. But he had a day off and it was supposed to be with Tommy so they could take the weekend and go somewhere fun and romantic, but then Tommy had to work. Buck could’ve gone in with the rest of A shift. But it was nice to have some alone time for himself so he took time for himself. 
His phone goes off with a call five seconds after he’s gotten into bed. It’s a number he doesn’t know. So he could ignore it. Or wait until they’ve left a message. But who would call at this hour for no reason? Or for scamming, telemarketing reasons? 
So Buck answers. 
“Buckley?” The man on the other end says. He sounds vaguely familiar but not enough that Buck came put a name or face with a voice. 
“Uh, yeah? Who is this?” 
“Mehta. Captain Mehta. Of the 133.”
“Oh, hey,” Buck says, automatically friendly and smiling. That makes sense now. “What’s up? Why the— why are you calling?” Why would he call in the middle of the night?
Why does anyone call in the middle of the night.
“Buckley,” he says and it sounds… it sounds… it sounds like…
They have him now. They’ll take care of him. Why don’t we get you cleaned up. He’s in good hands. They’ll rush him to surgery. You don’t have to worry. Let’s get you cleaned up. 
Lets get you cleaned up.
Buck can’t breathe. His whole body is cold. Frozen. 
He tries to get out of bed. He tries, but just slides to the floor beside it. He doesn’t make it any further.
“Buckley, there was a helicopter crash. Your team, our team we went to rescue the pilot. Your, uh, sorry, I don’t know what you call him, but your boyfriend? Life partner? He—”
Oh god. No. No, that’s not. That’s not happening. That is not what is happening right now. This can’t be a, Tommy is dead and I’m letting you know. It can’t be that. It’s not. They were going to—
They were supposed to have a romantic trip together. Wine tasting and some kind of museum Tommy thought Buck would love and maybe a visit to a hot springs up north and they were going to watch the sunset and the sunrise and—
And he can’t be dead. He can’t be.
“He’s alive,” Mehta says. “We’re at Cedars-Sinai. He’s alive, but. It doesn’t look good. He’s in the ICU now. He’s critical.”
Buck pushes himself up. Has to. He has to be there. 
He barely remembers to thank Mehta or even end the call before he switches off his phone and runs out the door. 
~
The drive is a blur. The drive is probably very illegal and he doesn’t know how he doesn’t crash, but he doesn’t have time to wait for an Uber or for anyone else. He runs as fast as possible to the ER lobby, and almost runs directly into Chimney. 
Not almost. Buck crashes into him and almost knocks them both to the floor but that almost actually is an almost because Chim somehow steadies them both. 
He’s pale. Shaken up. His eyes are red. He’s been crying. 
“Chim,” Buck says as broken as he feels. “Chim, where— where is he? What happened? How did this happen? Please tell me he’s okay. He can’t be dying, right? That can’t be happening?”
Chim opens his mouth and grips Buck’s arms tighter, still trying to steady him. “Buck, we— we don’t know yet. It was bad, but he’s tough. You know that. He could be fine.”
Buck lets out a broken whimper and backs away from him. “No. He is fine. He’s fine and this isn’t happening. I just— Chim, I just found him. I can’t lose him already.” 
There’s a flash of something on Chimney’s face but there’s movement around Buck, too. Other people. Bobby, he’s pretty sure. And Hen. They would be here. They would try to comfort him. But they don’t need to because it’s fine. Everything is fine and this isn’t happening. 
It can’t be happening. 
He can’t be dying.
There’s more movement and it’s all blurry, probably filtered through tears, but then everything stops. The world stops. 
Tommy is right in front of him. Whole, alive, real, a little rumpled and there are bloody scratches and bandages on his face and around his arm. But he’s here. He’s fine.
Buck slams into him, throws his arms around him, and sobs as he clutches him. 
“Baby,” Tommy says softly as he hugs Buck tightly, cradling him, comforting him, and Buck can breathe. He’s not frozen. Everything is okay. They were all wrong. Buck knew they were wrong. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Tommy tells him and holds him tighter. 
Buck pulls back just to look at him. “No, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He takes a deep breath and smiles because Tommy is fine. He’s right here and everything is good. Buck touches Tommy’s battered face and caresses him gently. He’s bruised and also pale, and very soggy. It’s been stormy tonight. Another reason why Buck wasn’t all that eager to go out in it. “They told me—  fuck, they scared me. I thought— I thought I lost you. I was so scared. I don’t want to lose you. He told me—Mehta, Captain Mehta— he called and told me there was a helicopter crash and my boyfriend was in the ICU and he’s critical and it didn’t look good, and I can’t— god, I can’t. Tommy, I—”
Tommy’s face isn’t good. It’s pale. Bad. Not smiling. Not relieved. It falls and he can’t even hide the devastation on it. He looks like guilt and death, and his mouth moves but nothing comes out. “Evan,” he finally says, barely says. It’s too quiet, too broken. “Evan…”
No. No, Buck doesn’t like that. He doesn’t want to throw up right now. And he just might. His heart is rabbit speed lightning and his legs don’t exist anymore and there’s an awful blackhole of apocalyptic world-ending destruction swirling and growing in his stomach. 
Someone takes his arm. Someone needs his attention. He’s moved from Tommy’s arms because there is no safety or comfort anymore. There’s no relief. There’s no happily ever after, nothing will ever be okay. 
Buck knows why Mehta said what he said. He knows who isn’t here. He knows who would have come to him and immediately comforted him. 
He knows. 
He knows what this is now. It can’t be that. It can’t. Buck doesn’t know anything.
Hen tells him. She holds his arm and says calmly even if it’s broken. Everything is broken. They’re all broken. “Buck. It’s Eddie.”
No. No, it isn’t. It isn’t that either. Buck really can’t take that. It was bad enough, unimaginable enough the other way. It can’t be this. 
He’s already done this. They did this before. More than once. Forty plus feet of cruel earth and a whirling burst of metal and blood all over him. 
Eddie’s blood was all over him. 
“The helicopter went down and got stuck on the cliffs. He went in so he could pull Tommy out, and we got Tommy out,” Hen tells him, every word a knife stabbing through both of them. All of them. 
“He saved me,” Tommy says, quiet and full of regret. “He saved me and went down with it. They thought it was stable enough. It wasn’t. They got him out after. But…”
Buck collapses to his knees on the floor and holds his head in his own hands as if he can somehow hold himself together when there’s no holding himself together. 
It’s Eddie.
It’s Eddie it’s Eddie it’s Eddie. 
Buck shatters like flimsy glass and sobs in all the pieces that are ripped out of him. What about Chris? What about Abuela? What about Eddie’s parents and sisters and friends and everyone else who loves him?
What about Buck? They can’t be BuckandEddie without Eddie. 
“I need to see him,” Buck suddenly says to the closest person who will listen. “I need to be with him. Please. Please.”
There’s arguing that happens. Bobby yells at someone. Hen, Chim, and Tommy stay around him like a protective guard. Until someone finally agrees. He’s not in surgery, they can’t take him to surgery yet. He’s not stable enough. But he’s on a ventilator, life support. They warn him and Buck doesn’t care. He knows how bad these things can be. He’s lived through several. 
They give him five minutes. 
They’ll have to drag him out with an armed guard if they think Buck will agree to only that. But at least it’s something. 
It’s something. 
Eddie is mostly covered. Blankets, wires, tubes, IV lines, bandages. He’s paler than all of them. Slightly blue-purple, cyanotic. They tell him a few things but Buck can’t hear them. He just wants to be with Eddie. 
Buck sits beside him and rests a shaking hand over Eddie’s hand, under the blankets where it’s trying to be warm. Buck would give anything to keep him warm, and alive. 
Eddie needs to stay alive. He needs to. 
Buck rests his forehead on the side of the bed near their joined hands. He would say something if he had the capacity to form words and sentences. The only thing in his head right now is, don’t leave me, please don’t leave me.
And that’s probably all he can say. All that really matters. 
Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, please, don’t ever leave me.
(read now on AO3)
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cottoncandytomu · 11 months
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Scream For Me Doll~ Ghostface!Ellie x F!Reader
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ITS FINALLY FUCKING HEREEEEEE!!!
(I do not own any of the photos! Just edited them, if they are yours and you want them removed lmk!!)
GHOSTFACE!ELLIE AI AUDIOS HERE!!
Before I even start-
18+ CONTENT MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. THIS FIC IS DEFINITELY NOT FOR MINORS!!
PLEASE READ ALL OF THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU INDULGE IN THIS FIC!!
I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to finally finish this fic, I wanted to make it the best I could for you deranged Beauties~. I will say though, I only proofread half of it (I'll proofread the other half later - sorry I just wanted to post it already heeheheh~) so any mistakes I apologize they will be fixed in the future!
Those who asked to be tagged, if you're not interested in this fic in particular or want to be removed please lmk!! :}
WARNINGS!! PLEASE READ!!
This fic IS NOT for everyone, so please if it isn't your cup of tea...move on. Any type of hate sent my way I ask for it to not be anonymous so I can do you the justice and block you straight up. This fic contains the following: (If I forget to put a TW please let me know so I can add it on!!)
LOTS of dark themes, Filthy smut, Knife play, Blood play, Self harm (Ellie's behalf - slightly intentional - she cuts herself on the blade), Degradation (Very minor), Possessiveness, Stalking, Cursing, Deranged reader and Ellie, Mentions of murder/killing.
I think that's it - again if I missed anything please let me know. BUT that's about it folks, hope you Beauties~ enjoy!! (7839 Words)
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The sound of breathing was the only thing to be heard, Ellie’s warm breath bouncing off the flesh of the mask and back into her own. She learned very quickly how to stay quiet in situations like these. Her robe almost touched the floor, flowing right along with her movements. The sun had set hours before, a warm yellow moon took its place. Darkness cascades over the town, it was during these hours where she thrived the most. The shadows made for her stalk within the night, hiding all of her secrets in its shroud. She slowly creeps towards your window, forever thankful that your room was located on the first floor. 
A lot of her nights were spent like this. Reveling in her recent victims over the weeks to then come and celebrate by watching you at your most vulnerable. You weren’t on her hit list, far from it actually. Her obsession for you was different, not one of bloodlust. Although she’d love to see the deep velvet color of your blood drip down your stomach. The tip of her blade digging into your skin, not too hard, not too soft, but enough to pierce the skin. She’d imagine rubbing her gloved thumb across the liquid, smearing it towards your hip bone. Where she’d then grip your waist, squeezing the soft flesh in her palm. 
Her true bloodlust was for the imbeciles who fell into her traps, never clever enough to understand the gravity of the situation they’ve put themselves in. What genius would walk through an alleyway alone after a night of drinking? Or answer a phone call in the deep hours of the night? Only idiots would and Ellie hated the idiots of the world. The ones who deserved to be silenced by her blade, one less ignorant human on this planet. She saw the evils she committed as an act of justice. Just what society needed, one less idiot to exist. But fuck there were so many. That’s why she enjoyed you the most. You weren’t like them. 
The way you were always aware of your surroundings, keeping up on the latest murders of the month. Those murders being her own work of course. She saw the way your eyes lit up at the idea of figuring out who the infamous Ghostface was. You were determined, it was cute in your own way. Ellie was always one step ahead though, she knew about your obsession with the slasher. Being your close friend was her advantage to the game. It was her fun version of tag, except for the fact that you were unaware you were playing it with her. Coming so close to touching her, the tips of your fingers stretched out wide but she was able to run and hide. You having to start all over again just when you were so close. She loved when you got close. 
She’d listen to all the theories you’d come up with about who Ghostface could be. You’ve gotten close a few times, even if it was jokingly pointing the finger at her. You’d laugh off the idea of Ellie being Ghostface. It’s too hard to believe your childhood friend who you’ve spent every waking moment with to be the one. You told her she didn’t have the guts to commit such acts, too blinded by the nurturing friendship the two of you shared. As clever as you were, in which Ellie respected, you always missed that one piece. 
There was a moment that she did want to tell you, to scream it off the rooftops or to stand outside your house with it written in bold letters. Hey, it’s me! I’m Ghostface! Surprised huh? But she knew that’d be too risky, as much as she trusts you with her life she doesn’t fully know if you’d be able to keep this under the wraps. Would you run away screaming, telling the first officer you see? Or is there that slight chance that you’d be alright with it… 
This was another fantasy Ellie loved to live in. You overjoyed with the fact that she was the one. Running up to her and caressing her mask, blood staining the tips of your fingers just moments after her fresh kill. But she knew better. Out of all the secrets you two shared, this was the only one she kept to herself. 
Little did she know you had secrets of your own. Your obsession with the slasher didn’t just end at finding out who it was. You wanted them for yourself. You wanted to trace their mask with your fingers, dragging them down the oversized robe and over to their gloved hand. You dreamt of grabbing that hand that yielded the knife. Tracing it up your chest to your delicate throat. To feel the cool blade against your skin would welcome heat that would pool between your thighs. You wanted them to use you how they wanted, bending at their will, doing whatever for them. It was a fucked up fantasy you couldn’t stop. But did you truly want it to stop? 
You had to bite your tongue every time you talked to Ellie about them. She was intrigued with your theories, always ready to listen in on the newest piece of evidence you brought up. But you didn’t want to face the judgment of her words when you told her the main reason you wanted to see what was behind the mask. You imagined her reaction once. You didn’t imagine it again after that. 
As she peers in she feels her chest swell up. It never felt any different for her, you always made her feel a certain way. Especially during these times. When she had the mask on, it changed her. She became a different person, she felt free. She felt like her true self. It was funny in a way, usually people put on a mask to hide their identity. But it wasn’t the same for Ellie, it brought out the worst in her. She loved every second of it. 
You were fast asleep in your bed, legs in a tangled mess with your blankets. Your brows were furrowed, tightly knit together. She was curious as to what you were dreaming about. Was it a nightmare? Troubles from something that happened earlier in the day? It took everything in her to not climb in through your window, coming close to you to smoothen out the lines between your brows. Her eyes trailed down to your lips, taking in how soft they looked. How badly she wanted to glide her gloved fingers across them. Just to hook them into the side of your mouth and pull back the flesh, making you smile like the joker. 
Her nightly ritual would soon come to an end. Much to her disappointment she had to go back to being the regular old Ellie. The Ellie no one suspected was Ghostface. She took in your features one last time before descending back into the night, the darkness consuming her once again. 
Finding the abandoned shed by her house she shed herself of her shroud and mask, putting them away in her pack. She returned home shortly after, unlocking her door with her key. She couldn't wait to also get some rest. Unbothered to do anything else besides sleep she threw her pack across the room. Flopping into the bed it didn’t take long for her to be whisked away into lust filled dreams of your face. 
The next morning came in a hurry. Ellie woke up in a sweat, the stuffy heat of the summer causing her clothes to stick to her skin. It didn’t help that she fell asleep with her jeans and t-shirt on, too tired the night before to change into something more comfortable. Her hand reaches over on her nightstand, grabbing her phone she checks the time, 11 a.m. It wouldn’t be long until you’re knocking at the door, you both had previously made plans to go out today. Finally having a matching day off you didn’t want to waste it away, even with the stupid curfew in place. Jackson didn’t have much to do but you both made it work. Your favorite spot was going deep into the forest, dangerous yes, but you enjoyed the quiet serene scene. The only sounds being what nature wanted to sing to you that day. 
Today would probably be one of those forest days. The overwhelming buzz of fear that clouded the skies of Jackson was starting to be too much for you to handle. You wanted, no needed, a mini escape from it all. And who better to escape all of it with none other than your loyal friend. She understood how you felt, how sick of the people you were. She understood it all too well. 
Ellie placed the phone back down on the nightstand, rubbing her eyes as she sat herself up. Letting out a sigh she climbs out of bed and goes to get ready for the day. It doesn’t take long until you’re knocking at her door. Toothbrush in her hand she rushes over to let you in. Your soft smile sends flutters to her stomach, precious as always. She sends a smile back your way, standing off to the side to let you in. You were wearing a regular t-shirt and shorts that hugged your thighs just right, she couldn’t help her eyes from checking you out. After you walk in she closes the door and returns to the bathroom to finish getting ready. 
You walk over to the door to the bathroom, leaning against the frame watching her finish up. You gave her a knowing look and she knew what would come out of your mouth before you even said it.
“New evidence?” She asks. 
Your grin widens, “Maybe…”
“Spill, now.” 
This happened often, you’d have some new “gossip” about the killer from your unresting research. While Ellie would sit and listen, wanting to know how close you’ve gotten this time. 
“So you remember a week ago when that random man was murdered?” 
Ellie pretends to think about it for a second. She knew exactly who you were referring to, he was a tough one. His extreme persistence to survive almost caused him to escape her grasp, almost. She nods at you. 
“Well apparently he put up a fight.” 
Ellie’s face cringed, thinking back on the memory. Her expression quickly changed to a confused one, now wondering how you knew about his persistence. 
“I know I know, the only reason I found this out is because of someone sharing some info on Reddit.” She waits for you to continue on. “So their Dad is a cop blah blah, shit no one cares for. But because of this he gets inside info. So get this, they found a piece of the handle to the blade Ghostface used to kill him. There’s some overly complicated science as to how they know he struggled. But the piece of it gives them a slight advantage on what weapon the killer uses. It’s honestly crazy how the knife broke. It’s said that the Buck 120 is very durable, some luck huh?” 
Fuck-
Ellie knew her mistake but didn’t think it would be found so soon. By the time she realized the piece had fallen off it had already been too late. That night she was consumed with the need to see you. Specially after that persistent fuck gave her such a hard time. The stress of it all ate her alive, for once she feared she would be discovered if he was able to escape her grasp. Luckily with one hard strike she was able to finally take him down. Enraged after the fact she kept up the hard strikes at his weak skin. Definitely a blood bath, all the emotions clouded her mind. She didn’t realize that her harsh slashes may be the one thing to bring her demise. When she saw you that night all the stress seemed to disappear. She returned home that night, dread still heavy on her head. Seeing you truly did help her but soon as she left you it all came back. The next morning was when she saw the lost piece in her handle. Cursing herself at her stupidity, it was too late. She never goes back to a kill, no matter how satisfying or difficult. It was too risky, the bodies were found usually a day or so after she ended them. 
Ellie snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of your voice. “Earth to Ellie, you there?” 
She rinses her toothbrush and spits out the paste in her mouth to answer you. 
“Yeah.” She laughs it off, “Sorry. Just thinkin’ about what you said.”
You tuck in your lips nodding slowly at her words. “It’s crazy to think about isn’t it? I’ll find out who it is eventually I know it.” 
“Oh you do now?” Ellie forgets about her previous thoughts. More interested in your words instead. 
“Mhm~ You know how close I’ve gotten.” 
“I also know how many times it’s slipped from you too.” 
“Whatever, I don’t wanna hear this shit talk when I find out who it is. I’ll prove everyone wrong.” 
Sure you will. Ellie thinks, “I’m gonna talk shit regardless. You know this.” 
You laugh at her words, “You’re right. Anyways hurry up, I wanna be out as long as I can before curfew.” 
Ellie finishes up what she has to, not wanting to keep you waiting. As she gets her things together you go to sit on the couch, patiently waiting. After she’s done you both head for the front door. Before you can leave Ellie mutters a hold on forgetting one last thing. She goes back into her room before descending out with her guitar case in hand. You smile warmly at her. You always loved when she would bring her guitar. Playing the tunes you were never tired of hearing. You opened the door for her letting her exit with her case. Following her out you both took off to the calming forest. Letting go of all the troubles that plagued your minds. 
After a few hours you and Ellie made it back to her house. The time spent in nature was a refresher you both needed. Similar reasons neither of you were aware of. The two of you didn’t eat the whole day so you both agreed to get food once settled in Ellie’s home. Not wanting the night with you to end Ellie made sure to invite you over after. She knew she’d be around you. Regardless if you stayed or not. She could either have you here or have you through your window. As much as she did enjoy the latter, she wanted to be around you as long as you’d allow. Even if it was when she was regular Ellie. 
The both of you settled down onto the couch. Ellie loaded a game up to pass the time, knowing you’d enjoy watching her play. Ellie made you comfortable no matter the situation, being in her presence made you feel such a relief. A relief no one could provide in the same way that she can. You were scrolling through restaurants in the area on your phone. Stretched out sideways along the couch. Your back against the armrest and your legs over Ellie’s as she sat regularly. Her arms were resting on your lower thighs, fingers pressing away at the buttons. She told you to pick what you wanted, not caring what you’d order. She’d eat whatever you put in front of her anyway. You didn’t want anything too crazy, just something comforting and simple. Which is why you decided on pizza, can’t get more simple than that. 
“I’m gonna get us some pizza.” You look up at Ellie from your phone.
Her eyes were trained on the screen, “Sounds good to me.” She shrugged slightly, replying. 
“Okay I’ll get us a large and a drink as well.” 
Ellie throws a quick glance in your direction, “My card should be in my pack in the room.” 
“I can just buy it Ellie…” 
“Fuck no.” When she looks back at you, this time she doesn’t break eye contact, “I invited you over to eat so I pay for it, yeah?” 
You didn’t bother to argue back with her, you’d lose in the end. You always did. You mumbled alright and she lifted up her arms so you could slip off the couch. The warmth of your legs were gone, causing her to shiver from the cool feeling of her air conditioner. 
You walked over into her room searching around for her pack. Your eyes scan the room when they finally land on it thrown over into the corner. You walk over kneeling down to open it up, digging through it you suddenly feel a sharp sting on your finger. Pulling your hand back from the pack with an ow you look hold your hand to see blood dripping from your middle finger. 
“What the fuck?” You mumble. 
Instead of making the mistake to dig around unaware again you slowly pull open the sides of the pack, opening it up to peek at what's inside. Your brows furrow at the black cloth harshly shoved in it. Slowly pulling it out to examine it an object flops to the floor. Snapping your head down your eyes widen, You can feel the blood draining from your face. A sharp flutter fills your stomach, it was a mask. But not any mask, a Ghostface mask. Picking it up with your free hand to examine it you now notice the red splatters, it stands out from the contrast of the bold white mask. Is that…blood? You think to yourself, it can’t be. This is a joke, there's no way she’s Ghostface. You smirk to yourself, was she really trying to fuck with you like this? She’s done stupid jokes before but never went as far as buying the costume to trick you. Some tricks, huh. Nice try Ellie. 
Did she really think you were that naive? You were going to get up and confront her when the sting of your finger got your attention again. You almost forgot about the cut, you then realized that nothing in your hands could’ve sliced you like that. Don’t tell me she bought a knife too, oh Ellie-. You reached into the pack again, carefully this time knowing your chances of getting cut again were high. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your throat when you saw the light shine off the blade, she really outdid herself this time. You grasp the handle and bring it out from the bag, it was the exact kind of knife Ghostface used. The knife had the smeared red on the blade as well. 
One part of you couldn’t believe the lengths she’s gone this time to fuck with your “investigation.” But the other part of you couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of her going this far. She didn’t truly know what these things did to you. If it was her, which was a long shot, you wondered how much easier everything would be. Not having to worry about who was behind the mask, not that you really cared, but it was something that crossed your mind. What if it was someone you couldn’t stand, would you be able to still keep up that fantasy of them? Could you still keep it up if it was Ellie? Your feelings for Ellie were that of a roller coaster. In friendship terms everything was smooth sailing, there’s no one else on the planet you could trust your life with more. But when it came to the topic of it being more than a friendship, that was a different story. You can’t say you never had feelings for her, you have. You just pushed them down when you realized how badly it could ruin everything. Plus you had no idea, doubted even, that she liked you the same. So you buried your own feelings deep inside, not daring to let them out again. Sometimes though she’d do things that made you shiver. That would cause those feelings to bubble over again, reaching for nothing but the disappointment you’d give them when you continued to shove them under again. 
Although, to know that she did this all for you made those feelings bubble over again. Could she have a clue about your true intentions of wanting who was behind that mask? Is that why she went this far? To make you believe it? To fall for her instead of the true Ghostface? No, she wouldn’t, it’s just a dumb prank. 
You laughed at your thoughts, going the extra mile once again, your delusions would constantly take control when the masked killer was involved. You twirl the knife in your hands one last time before you decide to put it down. As you check it for the last time your fingers smooth over something rough on the handle. Curious, you look at what the disturbed surface could be. 
As you study the handle your heart drops. No, no, no- this can’t be happening, you think. You can feel the anxiety swell up in your chest. You forget how to breathe, your thoughts racing a million miles a minute. All of the countless hours you spent searching, all of the sleepless nights you’ve had. The endless amount of research you would study, day after day. Stuck scrolling on your computer not resting until you get so close to finding out who it could be. The theories of all the different people you had, you even bought a cork board to help your search. You pulled some crazy shit you kept to yourself to find out where or who they could be. Putting yourself in danger in hopes that you’ll be the slasher's “next prey.” 
All of this for what? For it to be your best friend this whole time. The one person you were so sure of it not being. Fuck you felt so stupid. You grew up with her, you knew her better than you knew yourself. You felt pride in knowing that she would never be capable of such a thing, but she was. And here you are, staring at the handle with the piece of it missing that was just discovered by the authorities. As much as you wanted to deny it you couldn’t. Why did you want to deny it? 
In a way this makes everything easier, your mind travels back to your earlier thoughts. The thoughts of what if Ellie was the killer. But why didn’t she kill you yet? If no one was safe from her slashes then why were you? Question after question filled your head, trying to piece all the evidence together to figure out just what you have missed. While in deep thought you heard a loud thud. Locking in place you slowly turned your head to the sound. 
Ellie stood by the door, frozen. The controller that was once in her hand now faced upside down on the floor. She was wondering why it was taking you so long to grab your wallet. She knew it was in her room, in some pack that she threw on the floor yesterday. She hasn't touched it since. It wasn’t until she started thinking about it that she felt the color drain from her face. She was so exhausted yesterday that she forgot to put her Ghostface pack in the hiding spot she usually does. It slipped from her mind until this moment. Now she’s paying the consequences, walking in on you holding her knife. The very knife you just talked about hours earlier. The single piece of evidence that would be 100% proof of Ellie being Ghostface. 
She didn’t know what to do or what to say. Scared that any wrong move would result in your panic, your screams filling the air as you ran for the door. But you didn’t. You didn’t move an inch, holding the knife in your hand you stared back at her. All of this time it was her, you didn’t want to admit it but you felt a sense of relief. You did it, you found out who Ghostface was. 
You opened your mouth, trying to get something out, anything out but you couldn’t. Caught like a deer in headlights you thought about your next move. As you thought about it, so did Ellie. You weren’t supposed to find out, even if you did she didn’t want it to be this way. She wanted it on her terms, if she were to ever tell you anyway. 
As flustered as she was she managed to speak first, “Seems like all that research paid off huh?” She chuckles. 
Leave it to Ellie to make light of a situation like this, you were used to it though. She always jokes around when shit hit the fan, it was one of the many things you loved about her. You just weren’t so sure if this time was the right time for it. You looked down at the knife again, your fingers gliding against the abrasion.
“It was you the whole time…” Ellie’s eyes widened at your voice, “I busted my ass on research and it was right in front of me the whole time.” 
“Surprise…?”  
You let out a dry laugh at her response, how could you be so fucking stupid. She goes to open her mouth to speak again but you beat her to it. 
“Do you know why I really wanted to find out who Ghostface was?” 
Fuck it. It was out in the open so you might as well be honest. You didn’t know where this confidence came from but after finding out who a serial killer was you realized you only really have two options. She would let you go, which you think is unlikely or she would have to end it right here right now. Killing you to keep the risk of her being found out by the public. You didn’t think she was capable of killing you, you were her childhood best friend after all. 
She stays quiet, letting you continue. You figured you had nothing to lose now, why not let it all out in the open. 
“Finding out who was behind the mask really isn’t all that important to me. Honestly I could give less of a fuck who’s behind it. I just want them for myself. My fucked up fantasy of being with the slasher is all that I’ve been craving.” You sigh, your words becoming just a whisper. “It’s sick… I know.” 
Did Ellie just hear you correctly? Are her fantasies becoming reality right before her eyes? All those nights at your window, watching you, craving you. You writhing under her as she pleased you in the one thing that made her feel like her true self. She watched as your face fell in despair, you were ashamed. There’s no need to be ashamed. 
She wasn’t aware that she said her thoughts aloud, not realizing it until you lifted up your head. 
You looked at her with a shocked expression, “You don’t think so?” 
“How could I?” She starts, “You know what I do. I have no room to judge anyone, plus I’ve wanted nothing more than this.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, did you hear her correctly? 
She continues on, “I’ve been dreaming about this moment forever. I wanted to tell you so many times but I didn’t know how. Your reaction was something I was scared of the most. But now that I know you want this, I’m ready to take the next step.” 
“What is the next step exactly?” You ask. 
Ellie’s soft expression changes in an instant, a smirk adorning her lips. 
“I make you mine.” 
You felt a slight pang of fear but not too much. Her words catered to your sick mind, they went straight to your core. She took slow steps towards you, as to test the waters on how you would react. You didn’t move an inch, letting her slowly make her way towards you. The grasp you had on the knife tightened in anticipation. When she came close enough she reached out to your hands, loosening your grasp from the knife she took it from you. Her eyes leave yours to study the object in her hands, the object she knew all too well. Her eyes darken as she grasps the handle, pointing the tip of the blade towards you now. The smirk never leaves her lips when she drags the tip of the blade lightly up your throat, stopping to tilt your chin up towards her. 
“You want to be mine right?” She asks. 
You bite your lip, “Only if you’ll allow it.” 
It was at this moment that you saw the true change in her eyes. The Ellie you once knew, the Ellie you grew up with wasn’t the Ellie in front of you now. This Ellie was different…darker…possessive. You wanted to know this version of her more than anything, the true her behind the mask. The person you dreamt of having for so long was finally yours and you were hers. It was at this moment that you knew there was no going back, the two of you now becoming one in her secret. You’d do anything for her, be anything for her. She felt the same, all those nights she watched you at your window. She’d get rid of anyone who tried to hurt you in any way, she’d protect you from any danger that dared to wander around you. God forbid she catches the ones that hurt you, they’d regret their last moments. 
Her eyes flickered back towards yours, keeping eye contact for just a moment before trailing around your face. They stop at your lips, how badly she’s wanted to kiss the plush skin for so long. She wastes no time and throws her knife to the side. Grabbing at the sides of your face she roughly presses her lips to yours. Your hands grasp at her shirt, kissing her back with just as much fervor. The kiss was far from innocent, teeth clashing and spit mixing, just how she liked it. She took your bottom lip in her teeth, pulling at the flesh and letting it flick back in place. Her lips lock back onto yours, you pull her closer by her shirt, needing to get as close as possible. 
She pulls back after a few seconds, you let out a whimper at the loss. Your eyes filled with desperation as you stared up at her. She coos at the sight, her thumb swiping the spit across your bottom lip. 
She licks her lips, “You gonna let me have you tonight?” 
You enthusiastically nod your head, “Y-yes.” You’re still shaken up by the sloppy kisses you two just shared. 
“Yeah? Gonna let me try something out on ya?” 
You continued to nod your head, you didn’t care what she did to you. You’d give her whatever she wanted if she asked, she knew this. Yet she still wants to make sure you’re okay with it. She then took your hands in hers, pulling you to stand up along with her, she then led you to the bed. She pushed you back onto it, you flopped onto the mattress waiting for her next move. She admired you for a moment before walking back by her pack, she grabbed the mask off the floor and slipped it on. 
“You want me to fuck you in this mask hm?” She asks. Not giving you time to reply she continues, “How much did you dream about this?” 
Your words were stuck in your throat, it was all too much but it was so fucking good. You had envisioned how your first night with Ghostface would play out. Staring into their mask, their fingers buried in you, giving you the utmost pleasure you craved. But this? This was better than anything you could have imagined. Especially when it was with the one woman you loved more than anything. 
She picked up her knife, twirling it in her hands. 
“I would use this but that persistent fucker had to ruin it for me.” She shook her head, the loose fabric at the ends swayed in the air. “Good thing I got another.” 
She walks over to her closet, digging around until she pulls out another Buck 120. She flips it over, checking out the shining blade and admiring it. She loved nothing more than her ol’ reliable knife. 
“Got this one as a back up, y'know just in case incidents like before happened. A slasher must always be prepared~” 
Her head looks up, the soulless black eyes staring into yours. You can hear the teasing tone in her voice when she talks to you. She’s well aware she has you wrapped around her finger, ready to do whatever she pleases. 
She stalks towards you, “I’m gonna fuck you with this knife now~.” Her hold on the knife now tighter, “Don’t worry baby it’s clean, haven’t killed anyone with this one…yet.” 
Your eyes widened, her words went straight to your core. You couldn’t help the little fidgets your body made as she slowly made her way towards you. You couldn’t see because of the mask but her eyes were trained on your thighs that clenched together in anticipation. You couldn’t help but rub them together, needing some sort of friction to relieve the heat building up between them. 
You couldn’t help but ask, “Which side?”
Ellie groaned at your question, “Fuck baby~ you want the blade? Are you that psycho for me?” 
You didn’t particularly want to be mutilated tonight, even though somewhere deep down in your fucked up brain the thought was there, you just wanted to make sure Ellie was on the same page. 
“Just curious…” You reply. 
She now stood in front of you, knife in her right hand. Her free hand comes up to rest on your knee, pushing it to the side to open your legs up for her. You can hear her heavy breaths through the mask. 
“As much as I wanna see you bleed, I don’t want it that way. That’s what your thighs are for.” 
Her hand strokes down your thigh, stopping midway to squeeze at the flesh. She brings her knife up to your skin, slicing it lightly enough to draw a tiny bit of blood. She flicks up the knife, her skills on display as she scoops the blood onto the blade, bringing it up to her mask and smearing it on the white rubber. She drags the knife down to the tip of the chin, tapping it against it a few times, as if in thought of what her next move is. You whimper at the sting of the cut, little droplets still flowing from it. She reaches up to smear the blood across your thigh, taking her time watching the way the red liquid spreads. 
“I’ve wanted to see you bleed for me so bad. S’Better than I ever imagined.” 
You bite your lip, holding back your whimpers as you wait impatiently for her next move. You wanted her to do something, to do anything to relieve the ache you felt. She turns the knife around in her hand, the grip pointing towards you. 
“I’m gonna fuck you with the handle instead. That way every time I slash someone I have a memory of you with me. It’ll be the only thing I’ll think about with my victims.” 
Her words flooded through your veins, firing up every cell in your body. You didn’t know she had such a way with her words, if she kept going you’d probably climax just from them alone. As much as her words had an effect on you, you wanted her to go along with her promise. 
“Please…just fuck me already Ellie.” You beg.
“Patience Doll~ You out of everyone should know I like to take my sweet time when it comes to my victims. But since you said please, I’ll give you what you want.” 
She sets the knife down next to you on the bed, her hands grip at the waistband of your shorts pulling them down. You were soaked, the fabric of your panties so wet that you could see the outline of your pussy. 
“Mmh so wet for me, all I did was speak to you and draw a little blood.” Her thumb presses into your slit, pushing against your juices. 
Her fingers hook into your panties pulling out the fabric, she then grabs her knife and cuts off your panties. You breath hitches at how close the blade was to your core, any closer and she would’ve cut you. Making you bleed for the second time that night. She chuckles at your reaction then shoves the panties into her back pocket, saving them for later. 
She pushes up your thigh, opening you up for her and lines up the knife handle to your entrance. She teases you, gliding the end of it up and down your slit collecting up your juices to lube up the knife. 
“You ready Doll?” She asks. 
You whisper out a yes as she slowly slides the handle into your pussy, watching you grip onto it. You can feel her push back on your thigh more, making you stretch so she can get a nice view of you. Even though it was happening in front of her she couldn’t believe you were sprawled out before her like this. She’d catch herself staring at her knife imagining how it would look against your skin, how much she craved to slide it through your folds. Now that she was here it was almost too much, but she didn’t let her excitement take control. She wanted to fully immerse herself in this experience, taking all of you in. From the scrunches of your brows to the curling of your toes, she wanted to see all of you. 
She carefully dragged out the knife, her hand delicately holding the blade. She pushes the handle in and out of you, setting a slow steady rhythm. You writhe under her touch, not being able to hold back your moans anymore, the cool handle adding to the pleasure. You grab onto her wrist, holding her tight. You look up at her mask and she catches your movements tilting up her head. You’re staring hard enough to see her eyes through the meshed fabric, seeing the darkness behind them. She’s wanted this just as much as you did and you’re so glad it’s her that’s giving you this much pleasure. As good as it felt you wanted more, the slow pace was killing you. In a way you felt like she was holding back, still too afraid to lose herself, scared that she might hurt you. 
“Ellie…” You moan out, she twists the knife slightly muttering a yes. 
“Please don’t hold back.” Her movements stop and you whine at her, “I want you to let yourself go, let Ghostface come out.” 
Ellie’s hand quivered at your words, were you sure? Once she’s in that mindset she’s gone, she doesn't wanna risk too much. Although her dark thoughts were always in the back of her mind, how badly she wanted to drill her knife into you and watch you squirm at her force. 
“Baby, are you sure? I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.” 
You loved when she called you that, “Yes, I’m sure. I want it this way, I’m begging you~.” 
You gave her wrist a reassuring squeeze and that was all she needed before the light in her switched. The Ellie you grew up with, knowing better than anyone is not the Ellie that’s in front of you now. That confirmation from you was all she needed to let her true side take control. It happened so fast you didn’t know how to react, Ellie had grabbed you and flipped you over. Making sure your ass was up in the air, almost hanging off the edge of the bed. You braced yourself on your hands, an oof coming out of your lips when she pushed your face down into the mattress. 
You felt a harsh smack on your ass, you moaned at the sting it left behind. She kneads the flesh after, spreading you open and admiring you from behind. Without second thought she reaches down to grab the knife, this time firmly grabbing it by the blade as she plunges the handle inside you once again. She wastes no time fucking you hard and fast, her knuckles white from how hard she holds onto the blade. 
“F-fuck Ellie!” You gasp out. 
You’re in ecstasy, loving the way her demeanor changed. She loses herself in you, focused on the handle pushing in and out of you, how your juices cover the handle and drip down the blade onto her hand. 
“You like that Doll? You’re taking this knife so well~ M’so proud of you.” 
Your moans grow louder by the second, you’re not able to hold back anymore, not that Ellie wants you to anyway. You grip the bed sheets tight, your face repeatedly pushing into the mattress at her relentless force. You knew she was strong but fuck not like this. You were never really on the receiving end of her strength to truly know but now that you were you could see why no one stood a chance against her. She slaps at your ass again before she brings her free hand down to rub circles against your clit causing you to cry out. If she kept fucking you this way it wouldn’t take long for you to reach your high. 
“Shit-” You heard her whisper. 
You whip your head to the side to look at her. You can see her head tilt up to look back at you, she suddenly took her hand off your clit to reach up and tear off her mask. Her hair was a mess, tangled and stuck to her face in other spots from her sweat. Her eyes were blown wide, a harsh darkness to them you’ve never seen before and her lips. Her lips were red and plush from how much she bit them at the sight of you. You were a masterpiece to her, this was all she ever wanted. When she pushed her hair out of the way you noticed the blood that smeared along her forehead. She saw your eyes on her hand and gave you a lopsided smile, her hand going back down to rub at your clit once more. 
“Fuckin’ you so hard I cut myself.” She laughs darkly, “You don’t mind right?” 
Well fuck-
Your eyebrows scrunched together at her words, “No!” You moaned. “Don’t mind.” 
You could barely form sentences from how good she was making you feel, she knew this and she reveled in that fact. A cocky smirk on her lips as her eyes watched the way you squirmed and stuttered under her. She could give less of a fuck that she’s bleeding, your pleasure being the only thing that matters. It didn’t take much longer for you to feel the build up in the pit of your stomach, you were close. 
“Ellie I’m so close, please don’t stop~”
“Don’t plan on it Doll~” Ellie replies, speeding up her movements, if that were even possible. 
You bury your face into the mattress but then you feel a harsh smack to your clit. 
“I wanna hear your moans Sweetheart, don’t hide them from me now.” 
You nod your head rapidly, tears are starting to form in your eyes from all the pleasure you’re experiencing. Who would’ve thought you’d be right here, experiencing the one thing you wanted the most, you never thought your day would end up like this. You’re thankful nonetheless, this is exactly what you wanted and you wouldn’t want anyone else doing it to you. 
It didn’t take long until you reached your high. 
“Ahh~ I’m cumming!” 
Your back arched more, pulling at the sheets so hard they come undone from the edges. Ellie doesn’t slow down her movements either, ignoring the pain in her hand she keeps sliding the knife in and out of you. She watched as your juices flowed down onto the blade and her hand, mixing in with her blood. It made her moan out loud, a sight she’d never forget. 
“Mmm cum for me Doll, just like that. I wanna see your juices on my blade.” 
She helps you ride out your orgasm and your legs start to tremble. She chuckles at the state you’re in and slowly pulls the blade out of your pussy, watching your sticky juice strings stick to the handle. You watch her bring up the knife to her lips, sucking your juices off the handle, you whimper at her actions. When she’s done she throws the knife to the floor, her hands back onto you she spreads her blood up your thigh and onto your ass cheek as she gives you one last squeeze. You’re panting as you turn yourself over to lay on your back, she helps you lie down with a dark smile. She loves how she got you to this point, as much as she’d like to do it again she decides to save it for another night. 
She reaches over to give your hand a quick squeeze saying she’ll be right back as she walks over to her bathroom. After a few moments she comes back with a wet towel, a cloth is tied around her hand to stop the blood from flowing. She walks over to you and wipes away all the blood and cum off your body, giving soothing strokes to your skin afterwards. 
“So…” Ellie starts, “You gonna turn me in?” 
You can’t help the snort that comes out of your throat, “Fuck off.” 
“Is that a no, or?” She questions a knowing smile on her lips. 
“I let you fuck me with your knife, do you think I’m gonna turn you in?” 
She laughs at your response, “Just fuckin’ with ya.” 
She climbs into the bed lying next to you, throwing the towel onto the floor, she faces you and strokes your cheek with the back of her knuckles. You look over at her with tired eyes and a warm smile, she really does switch up fast. 
The two of you wrap up in each other's arms for the rest of the night. You ask all about her time as Ghostface, wanting to know every gory detail and she tells you it all. After a few hours of chatting you both lay in silence, content in each others presence. 
Ellie speaks up first, “So…about that pizza?”
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RAVIOLIII!! I hope you all enjoyed my fic!! I thank you all for reading my content! I have more on the way but I will be taking a small break to work on my drag projects I got going on!! As always any feedback is appreciated as I always want to level up my writing. Thank you all for being patient with me!! You Beauties~ have a wonderful day/night!!
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@moonlightdivine , @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshametohidemyshame
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ncteez · 1 year
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COLOR EVASION (j.s)
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You were just browsing, looking at all of the various kinks and fantasies the great world wide web had to offer. It’s not like you intended to make an account on a specific website to meet someone. Really, you were just curious about what was behind the “only members can view this page” banner. What you definitely weren’t expecting was to be pulled into actually meeting one of the men behind said banner, or enjoying it so much that you’d like for him to hurt you more. 
or the one where you join a kink website and a specific dom’s profile catches your attention enough to actually meet him at a hotel and practically ignore your safe words bc man, he’s good. 
ao3 | m.list | minors dni !! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do. 
wordcount― 8.7k
pairing― johnny x afab reader
content― dom!johnny, open minded sub!reader, smut, reader wants to explore her interests in kinks and finds the best person for the job
warnings― this is mildly cnc in some areas but reader does want it and there are safe words (colors) but she intentionally doesn’t use them. she’s having fun, she feels good, and only alludes to a “stop” because it makes johnny go harder. 
note― uh, hi. i know i'm always on a sub-idol agenda but i had this wip half written that i lost steam for and, well, johnny brought the fire back to finish it. disclaimer: im not good at writing dom stuff, but i tried so pls forgive me if this is the worst thing you’ve ever read. 
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags― MONSTER COCK JOHNNY AGENDA, reader is referred to as: “sweetheart”, “baby”, “dirty girl”, “pain slut”, and “plaything”, face fucking (m receiving), bulge kink but like– via throat, choking, drooling, dirty talk, slapping, restraining, suffocation, degrading, praise, panty sucking, brief oral for the reader, teasing, short lived thigh fucking, cream pie, cock-drunk reader, biting, abuse of breasts, orgasm via nipple stimulation, clit abuse, hair pulling, fingering, overstimulation, johnny is kind of a sadist at times, unprotected sex, aftercare
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~
           You joined this website out of curiosity, and you also messaged user SayPlease out of curiosity. You said please to him, you thanked him, you used all of those manners you grew up learning in a way that they weren’t intended for through instant messages with the man. 
             Truly, it was because you were curious and you had no intentions of actually doing it. You wanted to try out some fantasies in the safety of your own room, alone. You wanted to keep it under wraps and just see how your body reacts to the words and images the people on this website offer. You were expecting your body to react at least a little bit, but you weren’t expecting to have one of the best orgasms of your life guided by his words through a muffled speaker. 
             Johnny knew you were new to this, he knew you were just exploring, and most of all, he knew he could control you. After all, you did so well during that first phone call. He’s truly not surprised that you were willing to meet with him in person after a short week or so of communicating. All of them eventually want the same thing, you’re no different. 
 ~
             Pulling up to the hotel felt ill-fitting for you considering this isn’t something you’d normally do. No, of course not. Why would you go out and meet some random man you met on a fetish website? Why would you be wearing the prettiest panties you own in hopes to get some praise for them? Why would you have been the one to suggest meeting him in the midst of a sexting session where he sent you the most delicious image of his hand squeezing around his cock, texting that he knew you’d do a great job of choking it? 
             Why you, right? No one needs to know that answer. This is a private affair, one where only you and Johnny know what’s going to happen. You’re nervous, based on how he speaks to you alone. You keep forgetting how new you are to all of this. Some rules you know are in place, but what about other things? Will he explain? Will he sit you down and make you sign a contract like what happened in that one book everyone was raving about? 
             The walk from your car to the room with dainty metal numbers screwed into the door felt like it took ages. You didn’t have a key, and you were a bit early for this meeting but the anxiety bubbling in your gut said that if you didn’t leave when you did, you probably never would have come anyway.
             He was already behind that door though, and only when he starts opening it do you realize that never once have you seen his face. You’ve heard his voice, you’ve seen his body, but never his face. He, on the other hand, never saw you at all, he only heard you. Is this how this type of thing usually goes down? Are appearances not part of the fun? Suddenly, you find yourself worried that he’s only going to be attractive from the neck down, which would ruin it for you, if you’re being honest.
             On instinct you back away from the door, ready to run back to your car and delete your profile, block his number, and ultimately pretend that none of this happened. When he comes into view though, you find yourself freezing on the spot.
             Messy dark hair, tattoos, somewhat soft eyes. This man looks exactly like a dom that would talk to you the way he already has. It doesn’t match the face you imagined on him though. Hardened eyes, a grimace on his lips, something along the lines of a person who probably carries themselves as some type of cocky prick with a huge ego to match his cock. But no, this is what Johnny looks like. He looks big, and almost compassionate if you’re reading his facial expression right.
             He doesn’t say anything to you at first, he just watches your reaction to his face reveal all while he takes in what you look like for the first time. He liked the surprise of it all, not knowing what his next partner actually looks like until he’s about to have them on their knees. He’s had all sorts of partners fulfill his fantasy without the expectation that he would want them to, after all, it’s about the pleasure and not entirely the attraction in his mind. You, however, are incredibly attractive already. He imagines how much better you’d look with tears in your eyes.
 “There she is.” He says warmly, stepping to the side and letting you into the room. “More beautiful than I could have hoped for.” 
             Already you’re blushing as you step into the room, deciding once and for all that, yeah, you’re doing this. His confidence in complimenting you matches the way he talked to you before, except now he’s in front of you and looking at you. It hits you straight in the stomach, even as you still try to comprehend his kind words versus the ones he growled through the speaker at you just days ago.
             You’re silent as you take your shoes off and stand awkwardly in front of the made-up, plush, probably half-assed cleaned hotel bed. 
 “I get it, you’re nervous.” He chuckles out, locking the door behind him and walking over to casually sit on the bed slightly behind you. His legs fall open easily as he looks down at himself, then up at you through the messy fringe falling in front of his eyes. “You can still back out, you know.”
             You shake your head, struggling not to make eye contact with him. 
 “Are there like–” You’re embarrassed by how nervous you are, unable to string together a sentence or try to keep this calm and casual. 
 “Hm? Go on, I’m not going to do anything until you’re sure you want it.” He smiles, cocking his head to the side and trailing his eyes up and down your body. He really can’t stop looking at you, hoping that you’ll let him have his way. The memory of how you sounded on the phone flooding his mind as he puts your face to the moaning voice. He remembers how wet you sounded, he could hear you fuck yourself so clearly. 
 “Rules. Are there any rules?” 
             Johnny darts his eyes to the ceiling in thought. Right, he knows you’re new but– damn is he selfish. 
 “If you want rules, we can set them now. A safe word is good,” He pauses, reaching to grab at your hand to pull you next to him. “Sit.”
             He says it politely, more like an offer than demand but you can’t see him as anything other than the dominant man you’d spoken to before. Even with a face that looks as soft as his right now. 
 “Usually, for me at least, a safe word is the only thing I set and it tends to help people learn their limits. I will stop if you say it.” He tries to explain, ultimately to leave limitations up to you during the act. After all, since you’re so new, how would you even know what you don’t like anyway? Sure, some people in this community find Johnny’s way of doing things shady at best, but he does communicate his preferred method first. He isn’t trying to trick you into doing something you don’t want to do, he just wants the freedom to let you explore all of the things that he likes. 
 “I’m not sure what rules are even meant to be set.” You explain, finally gaining enough composure to talk clearly now. “I’m not into water spots, though. I know that for sure.”
             He nods in agreement with a shrug, looking at you as if he is encouraging you to continue.
 “What’s the safe word then?” You ask, unintentionally fiddling your fingers in a nervous way. You catch his eye watching you, and you note the way he does his best to calm you from any anxiety.
 “Some people pick random words, but colors are usually a good way to go. Yellow for when you’re not sure, but I can keep going. Red for when I need to stop.” 
 “No green?” You ask.
 “I mean, technically everything is green until you state otherwise, isn’t it?” 
             He’s right.
 “Any other things that are a hard no?” He asks again, ruffling his hair through his fingers. “Fair warning, I will hit you, choke you, restrain you, among many other things,” he pauses and looks for your reaction. “unless you tell me now that you don’t want it.”
             You look at him and how his soft features have hardened slightly with his tense jaw, your thoughts derailing again as you see the words coming from a mouth so plush and pretty.
 “Is kissing allowed?” You ask, completely unrelated to his string of offered abuse.
 “If you want to kiss me through all of this, and your mouth is available, sure, I don’t see why not.” 
             You nod, taking it all in. Yellow. Red. No watersports. You’re going to hurt, and you can kiss him. 
 “Okay.” You say in a small voice, looking away from him and down to your lap. “Can you start slow?”
 “Probably not.” Johnny admits. He’s incredibly attracted to your nervousness, and even more attracted to the way your voice is already shaking and he hasn’t even touched you yet. 
 “You have safe words, use them if it’s too much. I don’t ‘go slow’,” He adds, spreading his legs a bit more. “I do what I want, you do what I want, and maybe you’ll get what you want in return.”
             There is no tone of politeness in his voice, and you assume he switched fully into this persona the moment you muttered the word “okay.” More nervous now, you almost wonder if it’s too late to back out. Do you even want to though? Because now you’re turning to look at him and you can see the way he’s looking back at you. You’re just exploring, and he’s right, you have safe words.
 “Okay.” You say against the anxiety in your belly, knowing that once it starts, that’s your chance to decide if your exploration was worth it.
             Without warning, you hear the zipper of his jeans being pulled at, and before you know it his length is out and on display. He grips it much like he did in the photo he sent to you. Matching his body more to his face now, you stare at it. It’s much bigger in person, and more intimidating to imagine having inside of you. Not only is it long but it’s incredibly thick, part of you wonders if you could even fit it into your mouth at all. 
 “You mentioned being on birth control, right? And being tested as clean?” He asks, looking down at himself and then back at you to watch you slowly nod in an answer.
             He basks in the way you stare, blinking at the way he’s gripping onto himself for you to see. But, like he said, he’s not going to start slow for you. With the brief discussion and questions out of the way, he’s going in full force.
 “On the floor.” He nods his head to the space between his legs. 
             Your body takes you to the position between his legs without so much as a second thought. Your fingers instinctually land against the harsh fabric of his jeans as you attempt to prepare yourself, swallowing hard at the image of his cock towering before you. 
 “No, hands behind your back.” He guides you with a smile and watches the way you pull your hands back and put them right where he asked you to. “Already so obedient? I knew you wouldn’t be hard to handle.” 
             You can’t tell if it’s a compliment or not, but it feels like it is because it sends a sense of pride through you. Does he like to fight for what he wants, or does he prefer having full control? 
             Johnny releases the grip on his length and places his hand at the back of your head, slowly guiding your mouth to his balls, twitching a bit at the way you instantly have your tongue out to lick and taste wherever he guides you. That alone drives him wild, seeing as how you may be new to this whole submissive thing, but surely you know how to suck a man off, right?
 “Dirty girl, you barely even know me.” He teases as he watches you lap away at him, a smirk against his lips while he guides your head up to the underside of his cock. “What would your parents think?”
             You knew he’d degrade you, but in all fairness, none of what he just said to you is a lie. You don’t even know his last name, you didn’t even know what he fucking looked like until fifteen minutes ago. Your parents would have a heart attack if they knew, and somehow feeling this dirty makes your stomach tumble and panties dampen.
             He stops guiding you for a moment, feeling your tongue travel back down to his balls, licking and prodding against them in a way that makes him want to buck his hips up, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t show want or need for his partners, ever. That’s their role to fill, because if he wants to fuck something, he can. 
 “Up,” He guides, feeling your tongue travel up the underside of his cock again. “Open up.” He adds as he smiles down at you, seeing you open your mouth fully while keeping your tongue flat against him. 
             When you circle your lips around the head, you wanted to take your time. You wanted to prepare for the fact that Johnny has a huge cock and it’s going to take some getting used to. Apparently, that wasn’t going to happen though, because now his hand is putting pressure on your head to go down, and your body fights it slightly because your throat has never taken a cock this big.
 “No?” He asks, pulling your head off of him and seeing if you’re already going to give him a red, but you don’t. You don’t even look at him and instead, focus your eyes on the head of his cock trying to be better prepared. 
             You almost hear the chuckle he lets out, the silent code word of green shining through in the way you say nothing. With that, he places both hands on your head and holds it there. 
 “Deep breath–” He encourages. “Look at me.” 
             Your eyes dart up to his as you take in a sharp inhale, and then, suddenly, you’re feeling him press past your lips again. You close your eyes and try to move your head down on your own, but it doesn’t budge, he’s holding you in place and at this point all you can do is let him. 
 “Open your eyes, look at me.” He demands this time, pressing further into your mouth and leaving little room for you to fight it. You do your best to look up at him, straining your eyes as he watches his cock disappear deeper into your mouth. 
             For a moment, ignoring the fact that your lips are being spread impossibly wide and you can feel your throat attempting to constrict around the intrusion, you watch the way his face stares down at you. He’s really into this. Concentrated on sliding his full, hardened cock as deep as it can go into your mouth. And when he hits the back of your throat and there’s a tear shedding down your cheek, he fucking chuckles.
 “It’s not so bad, right?” He asks, knowing you can’t answer with a mouth full of him. 
             That’s when the grip on your head becomes harsher and he starts fucking his hips forward, past your lips. He can feel you struggle, squeezing his length as it fills your throat, dripping precum and fully aware that you can’t even taste it. 
 “I can go deeper.” He decides, standing to his feet from the edge of the bed, holding your face on his cock and pressing in more, until he can feel the drool on your chin drip down and onto his balls. 
 He stares down at you and the way your neck cranes. He can almost see the bulge of his cock intruding your throat as he presses in tightly if he angles his head right. He coos at you, rubbing a thumb against your cheek. 
 “You’re taking me so well–” Johnny compliments, reaching his hand down to rest against your neck so that he can feel his length sliding in and out of your throat. “Do you hate this?” 
             You can’t respond, closing your eyes and trying to breathe through your nose. Your jaw is already hurting, your makeup is now ruined, and for some reason, you don’t hate it. You like the feeling of your breath being lost, with his hand pressed against any airway you could have possibly used at this moment. 
             Arms still behind your back, you can’t help but pull them forward to brace your hands against your own knees when he continues to fuck into your mouth at a more aggressive pace. When he pulls almost all the way out, you steal little gasps that end up sounding more like wet, desperate, attempts to breathe. When he presses all the way back in, bruising your throat in an immaculate show of how big he is, he doesn’t make a single sound and only concentrates on the way he can feel his cock sliding against the palm of his hand through the expanse of skin along your neck. 
             He does this for what feels like ages to you, and briefly you forget the pain of it and remember when he texted you the photo, saying you’d probably rather be choking on it. Experiencing it now, it’s more than you had imagined before, but also, in its own way, a million times better than you could have imagined. 
             Johnny’s hips start to slow as he releases his grip on your neck and moves his hands either side of your head. He holds you there on him as he tenses his muscles, your nose pressing against his abdomen and you can feel his cock twitch in the deepest depths your throat has to offer. You are continuously gagging around him and only now does he let out a moan, one that is deep and breathy. You open your eyes to try and look, but the angle doesn’t allow for it. All you can see is the expanse of skin along his abdomen and chest before his hands release your head.
             He’s expecting you to pull back, considering you haven’t gotten a full breath of air since he started doing this, but you don't. He jerks his head down to look at you when he feels your hands grip at his jeans again. Johnny doesn’t even think to tell you to put them back behind your back, because you are willingly still choking on him. He can feel your tongue struggle to share the space in your mouth with him, the heaviness of his cock weighing it down.
 “Shit–” He groans, staring down at you and the way you close your eyes so tightly in concentration, all in an attempt to please him. “Oh, fuck.” He throws his head back again this time, feeling the way you try to move your mouth on him, essentially deep-throating all on your own.
             When he looks back down at you, not fully able to keep his head thrown back so he can bask in the feeling, he’s floored by the wetness against your cheeks. You’ve been crying this whole time, dribbling drool, and taking it so well. He makes a point to pull himself out of you. 
             The whimper that leaves your lips is something he doesn’t think he can forget. A raspy whimper. A fucking cry, he’d be lying if it didn’t sound like you were disappointed that he stopped suffocating you.
 “Oh, sweetheart,” He starts sweetly, pinching your drool-coated chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “You liked the way I fucked that tight little throat, didn’t you?”
             You blink through your tears, nodding to him. You surprised yourself with how much you were able to take in that instant, and how willing you were to do it for longer. 
 “Like you were made for it,” He hisses out this time, pulling you up by the chin so that you can stand in front of him, “let’s see how wet you are.” 
             You can’t look away from his eyes, especially with the way he stares directly into yours when he cups his palm between your legs. Even with your clothes on, your body prickles with goosebumps at the sensation of him touching you there. 
 “Can feel you through these shorts,” he smiles, dipping his head down to ghost over the shell of your ear before moving his hand to the button of your shorts. “I bet you want me to touch you.”
             You’ve never begged before, and you never really understood why people begged at all, but at this moment you think you would absolutely fall right back to your knees and plead for him to touch you. You can feel your shorts sticking to you, your panties uncomfortably tucked into your seeping pussy at the very act of him fucking your mouth. 
 “Please?” You choke out, voice still raspy as you try to speak.
             Johnny chuckles at your pathetic attempt and pulls you by your shorts to step forward as he takes one step back. He shakes his head at you in pity, sitting himself on the bed as he drags you to stand between his legs. 
 “Turn around.” He guides you with his hand before circling your ass with his hands and landing a short slap against the back of your thigh. “Now, sit.”
             He still guides you, positioning his cock between both of your plush thighs and holding in a shiver at the way the hem of your shorts drags against his length. 
             You know you get nothing out of this, and he’s not going to touch you yet but fuck, you need it at this point. He watched you gag around him, he watched you try your fucking best, and this is what you get in return? The head of his cock peeking from your thighs as you squeeze around them? So be it. 
             You keep both feet on the floor, doing your best to keep your legs together as you make an attempt to bounce against his lap but he stops you instantly.
 “I didn’t say you could move,” he warns, placing his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist before leaning both of you back and then rolling you over to your side. “Cross your legs, and don’t move.”
             You do exactly as he asks, crossing your legs at the ankle and lying there still as he slips his cock from between your thighs. You wait like this for a moment before you feel the head of his length nudging between your legs again, this time more wet than before, and then his hand is traveling to your belly and under your shirt from behind you. 
 “Ever get off from having your tits played with?” he asks, his hand ignoring your bra and pinching straight through the sheer fabric against your nipple. “Would love to see how you’d drench these shorts if you could do that for me.” 
             Your mind is racing, feeling his fingers tightening the pinch against your nipple and his cock lazily sliding between your thighs. You shake your head, not knowing if it is even possible to get off that way. Sensitive tits aside, if he can do it, you might just have to find a way to claim Johnny as your dom, and no one else's.
 “You haven’t?” He chuckles from behind you, snaking his other hand under you and up to your other tit. “Let’s see.” 
             He uses both hands to move your bra to the outer swell of your breasts and gropes both of them before pausing and focusing on his cock between your legs for a split second. 
 “Keep your legs tight for me, sweetheart, I’ll reward you for it.” 
             You squeeze your legs tighter as you feel his fingertips gently flick both of your nipples. You try to focus on that sensation alone, feeling a short jolt of pleasure travel down your body and straight to your clit. God, you want him to touch your pussy so badly, because there’s no way you can come from this alone. 
             His focus falls back to you, fucking his hips forward all while he allows his fingers to put more and more pressure into the flicks and pinches. You must not realize the way your body trembles even at this, and it’s driving him fucking insane. You’re so new to this, but you suck cock like you’ve been a submissive plaything for years. You have so much to learn, so much to experience, and it’s hard for him not to want to do it all right here, right fucking now. 
             Without warning, he pulls his hips back and leaves his cock untouched. You’re about to turn your body to him in confusion but he does it for you. Rolling you over onto your back and positioning himself between your legs after standing to kick his jeans off first. He looks at you, deep and dark eyes matching the smirk on his face.
 “On second thought,” he starts, pulling your shirt off of you in one swift motion and staring down at your chest. “I want to see your tits before I ruin them.” 
             Typically, it’s normal for you to be fairly silent in these situations, so having no response for him isn’t a surprise. What is surprising is the way your throat instantly forces out a small moan when his legs forces you to spread yours as he settles between them.
             Even the sensation of your pussy opening beneath your shorts at the spread of your legs has you feeling more aroused than before. So, when he shocks you with a quick slap against one of your tits, you’re not even surprised that it feels good.
             He watches your face after that slap, your slack jaw rising into a small and cocky smirk at the realization that you’re liking what he’s doing. He’s still in the green, so he slaps again, harder this time before leaning down and licking the spot he just hit. 
             He pulls your bra up with one hand, raising it to your collar bone to release both of your tits and leaving them vulnerable to any hit, kiss, bite, or pinch he has to offer. You don’t care, because when you manage to open your eyes and look at him, he’s entirely focused on the way your nipples harden and soften from the sensations. 
             When he leans down to lick, your pussy clenches at the wet heat of his tongue flicking your nipple, and when his teeth graze as a warning for a future bite, you only anticipate it. Your body instinctively humping up each time a jolt is sent to your clit. He bites hard, and then pulls back to slap against your other tit even harder. Until you’re left shaking, babbling incoherently with gasps and curses. 
 “Does it hurt enough, sweetheart?” He coos, leaning back down to lick the growing swell against your tits. “Do you want more?”
             He’s surprised that you nod, chuckling to himself because he was already going just as hard as he normally would when a woman likes breast abuse. You want more? You want him to go harder? He hums in response, using one hand to pinch harshly against one of your nipples and dipping down to suck against a particularly swollen and sore area. 
             You feel the pain, the sensation running down your body much like the arousal and pleasure does. It’s almost hard to tell the difference between them, aside from the fact that the pain actually hits harder. The feeling of his mouth abusing you, his hands, all while his cock is hanging heavy and neglected against your thigh? You can take more than this even, you’re sure of it. 
             Without really intended to, your hands find their way to his hair. He almost pulls back to demand that you let go, to inform you that he gave no permission to touch him, but the way you pull against his strands has him replacing his harsh sucking and biting against your flesh to flicking his tongue against your other nipple. Surely, you can come from this. He’s going to make damn sure you’re soaking your shorts before he rewards you again. 
             You moan at the flutters of his tongue gently flicking your nipple, especially in contrast to his other hand bruising your other breast. It’s strange, really, to feel that familiar build up in your stomach but then again, your panties are tucked so tightly between your lips that your clothing is actually offering a bit of pleasure in that front too. Your clit is harshly being restricted and somehow, that offers relief in it’s own way. 
             For the first time in your life, you feel waves washing through your body that feel so hot that you’re sure you have a fever. He continues to stimulate your nipples, replacing his tongue with his other hand as he pulls back and watches you fall apart beneath him. His cock twitches wildly at the image. Your lips parting, tongue darting out to try and collect the saliva threatening to fall from the corners of your mouth, eyes rolled back before you squeeze them tightly and fucking tremble.
             Your lower half is humping up, your chest is chasing the abuse of his fingers, and you feel nothing but heat as you orgasm for an embarrassingly long time. All the way until your ears pick up the sound of him cooing at you. 
 “Dirty girl, you made a mess.” He smiles, releasing your tits and sliding down the bed before resting his chin on your knee. 
             You’ve barely come back to reality when you feel your shorts unsticking from your core. Panties still tucked uncomfortably against you, he tries to coo again, but instead he groans at the image of both your pussy and your shorts.
 “Fuck,” he stares. “You really did soak them.”
             He analyzes your shorts briefly before tossing them to the side and bracing both hands on your knees to spread your legs out. There, he hooks his pointer finger beneath the panties sitting tightly against your hole and pulls them out. 
 “So fucking wet,” he comments, realizing that your entire pussy is glistening with arousal. He pulls your panties away from you, offering relief to your core before slipping those down your legs as well. 
             You weren’t expecting him to do it, but then again, you weren’t expecting to let him do it when he shoves the panties into your face.
 “Open up.” He smiles, pressing the panties into your mouth with two fingers. “Suck.”
             You do, wondering how the fuck you ended up in a situation where this actually turns you on. He’s loving it though, watching your hole pulse as you suck your own arousal out of the fabric for him. You almost forgot his promise of a reward, if you’re being honest. So, yet again, you’re surprised when you feel his tongue, without any warning, lick straight against that pulsing hole and up to your clit. 
             Your legs shake around him, instinctively closing around his head before both of his strong arms spread them back out again. He chuckles against your pussy, and when you inhale to try and regain control of the sensitive pleasure taking over your body, you can only taste yourself. Each breath replaced with your past orgasm, each moan coming out as a choked and desperate whine. 
             The pleasure is short lived though. Johnny takes note of your whining, licking and tasting you to the point that he’s the one that’s about to fucking lose it. He’s quick to regain his control, licking a languid stripe up your folds before landing against your clit and grazing his teeth against it. 
             He holds you down when you jump at it, groaning at the sensitivity and pain. He grazes his teeth against it again, and again, and then finally nibbles against it. Your whining gets louder and he swears he can hear a whisper of a ‘wait, stop–’ as you spit the panties out of your mouth and your legs still try to squeeze around him, but he still holds you down with a chuckle. 
 “You know the words to use, sweetheart.” Johnny reminds you before nibbling again. 
             You could end this torture right now. Your clit has been neglected this whole time until now, and it’s not gentle. He’s biting, he’s grazing, and it fucking hurts. All you have to do is say the color, all you have to do is choke it out between his evil ministrations, but you don’t. 
 “That’s what I thought.” He laughs, leaning back and sitting up between your legs. He releases his hold on your hips, now pressing one hand flat on your stomach and holding you down that way before using his other hand to tap lightly against your clit this time. “Didn’t know you were interested in being a pain slut.” 
             You groan, unable to answer between his quick slaps to your clit. Swallowing hard, you try to speak. He notices your attempt and holds back his next, harsher slap. 
 “Baby wants to speak now?” He asks, rubbing your clit gently and encouraging you to try. 
 “Yellow,” you finally whimper, and he raises his brow. 
 “Just a yellow?” He confirms, waiting for you to nod before holding back entirely from the slaps and instead, pinching your clit much like he did to your nipples.
             For some fucking reason, this hurts more than the slaps but the consistent pain is more tolerable than the sudden, anticipated slaps. This, you like.
 “Green.” You manage to moan out this time, hips humping up much like before as a way to ask for more. 
             He tilts his head, thinking it’s cute when you use the color codes and thinking it’s even cuter that you’re still fucking drooling through it all. He pinches harder, watching you react, he dips his head down again and offers a bit more pleasure that way too. All the way until your legs are shaking again, and he knows now that you’re already about to fall apart again. 
             Despite your confirmation and willingness to let him continue the abuse of your pussy, he pulls back entirely, collecting the wet seeping out of you and sliding it down his cock with his fist. 
 “Look at me.” He demands, staring between your legs. You listen, managing to open your eyes in frustration and watch him. “Did you want to come again?”
             His eyes dart to you, and your pussy pulses yet again when you nod, releasing a frustrated sigh. He ignores it, looking back down at your hole, his thought process switching to his own pleasure.
 “Do you know how much I want it to hurt you when I fill you up?” He asks again, fisting his cock faster, using his other hand to grab your face and force you to look into his eyes. “I could be so fucking deep inside of you right now, you know that, right?”
             You groan, your body threatening to release something that resembles an orgasm on those words alone. 
 “Fuck–” You try to moan for him, you try to beg, but he stops you by squeezing your cheeks tighter. 
 “Fuck, what?” He asks, feeling his own orgasm welling up inside of him before he grips the base of his cock, denying him of that pleasure. “You?” 
             You nod aggressively, your hand reaching to grip his arms and brace yourself. 
 “Say it,” he demands, releasing his cock and using his other hand to run his fingers up your pussy. “Say you want me to hurt you.”
             You choke out the words, salivating at the very idea of him doing it more than he already has. 
 “So dirty,” he groans, shuffling back on the bed and standing to his feet. He quickly removes the rest of his clothes, the musky scent of him blowing past you as he throws his shirt over your face. “Take your bra off, dirty girl, let me see how much you want it.”
             Removing your bra ss quickly as possible, you toss it off the bed along with his shirt before looking at him with a question in your eye. 
 “Come on, take it.” He says, glancing down at his cock as he stands at the foot of the bed in front of you. “You think I’m going to fuck you? Fuck yourself.”
             Honestly, it’s like you’re seeing tunnel vision. Nothing in this room exists but you and his cock. Entirely tuned into your pleasure, your pussy aching from sensitivity and lack of being stretched open, you’re instantly leaning forward to get to him. 
             He watches the way you pull yourself from the bed, acting like an animal as you fall to your knees and take him into your mouth much like you did before. His jaw tenses at your hunger, and he holds back a moan at the way you appear to have lost yourself entirely for him. He doesn’t fuck his hips forward, he doesn’t touch you, he just stands there. Watching you unravel on your knees, feeling your eager tongue try to force a reaction from him. 
 “I said to fuck yourself,” He warns, stepping back and pulling his cock from your mouth. “Go on, you can use it if you want to.”
             He smiles when he says it, and in your head, you don’t care if it’s some sort of trick or play of words. You’d gladly spread out on the bed and absolutely pound your pussy on your fingers alone if he so much as hinted for you to do it, but at this point his cock is out, and it’s heavy. 
             Johnny is a bit shocked when you shove him back, eyes still glazed over in a way that shows him that you’re not in your right mind. He steps back, allowing you to press him all the way until he’s leaned against the hotel vanity. Raising his brow, kind of impressed, he allows you to hook one leg around him and instantly holds your leg in place to balance you there.
             He still says nothing, he doesn’t move past holding your leg in place around him, and his eyes remain on yours as you reach between the two of you and position his cock to your core. There, he chuckles when your face turns from something that seemed determined, into relief at the stretch of his head entering past your lips. 
             Still, he stands, chuckling at how desperate you are to fuck him this way, rather than just turning around and bending over. Surely the position would be easier for you, but then it all makes sense when he feels your lips slacked against his, panting against him as you make attempts to find some sort of rhythm.
             You did ask if kissing was allowed, and god, he’s glad you did. He growls into it, pressing his tongue past your slack lips and tasting the remnants of your panties.
 “You’re already so gone,” he whispers into your mouth, feeling your shallow humps on his cock. “I’m hardly even inside of you, sweetheart.” 
             You don’t really hear those words. Honestly, your body is moving on its own and doing what it can do at this moment. The angle isn’t easy, but you wanted to kiss him so fucking badly, that you had to do it this way. 
             He pulls out of you though, leaving little reaction for you to do anything other than feel embarrassed by your attempt to fuck yourself on him. He doesn’t expect you to, apparently, because he’s instantly swirling you around and shoving you to the bed. Bending you over and placing a hand at the back of your head before pressing your face into the blankets. His other hand holding both of your hands behind your back with ease. 
 “Better?” He asks, easily positioning his cock and shoving into you with one quick thrust, bottoming out entirely. “Hm?” He adds, pulling out and shoving in again. 
             Your mouth is open in a silent moan at the intense stretch, tasting nothing but the fabric of the blanket your face is currently shoved into. 
 “Can’t hear you,” He grunts, picking up the pace and pistoning his cock in and out of you so fast that you can barely catch your breath regardless of the blankets already making it difficult. “Say something.”
             You can’t. You can only groan at the feeling of his cock stretching you open repeatedly, at his hand shoving your face further against the mattress until all you can do is tense your body. 
             He feels it, your pussy clenching around him so tightly that even he gets the breath knocked out of him. Gripping your hair, he pulls your head up and listens to your gasps for air. His hips slam harder, harder, harder, until he feels the pleasure threaten to hit him. That’s when he stops, burying himself into you entirely before releasing your head and falling forward against you. 
 “Don’t fucking move.” He warns, twitching inside of you as he feels you heave for air beneath him. 
             You try not to move, but your sensitive body reacts to even the sound of his breath behind your ear. Everything is more sensitive than you could ever imagine your body being. Your bruised and swollen tits are throbbing against the mattress, your clit is pulsing at the fullness of his cock inside of you, and your pussy is struggling still to adjust to his size. It feels fucking immaculate. You want him to move, you want to move. You want to be fucked, obliterated, destroyed. 
 “Wait–” You manage to muffle out, knowing full well that it’ll get him to do the exact opposite. 
 “I’m not even fucking you,” he laughs, pressing his hips forward a bit more, causing you to whimper in response. 
 “Stop, just, give me a second.” You cry out.
 “Not how this works, sweetheart,” He laughs, pulling his hips back and pointedly thrusting into you again. “So lost you forgot how to use words?” 
             You nod, smirking against the blankets and knowing he can’t see it.
“Liar.”
             His hips speed up, this time thrusting into you so hard that the bed itself scoots further forward and bangs against the wall. You yelp in pleasure, rolling your eyes back and wanting so badly to see his face as he fucks you.
 “Johnny, please.” You groan and he pulls back, wondering if you actually are so lost that you’ve forgotten the colors. 
 “Colors, sweetheart. Red for stop.”
             You shake your head almost aggressively at that, bracing your hands on the bed and pushing your ass back against him. 
             It floors him, really, that you’ll ask him to stop and then blatantly ignore your own words by fucking yourself back on him. You’re insane, honestly.
 “Please what, then?” He asks, smiling as he watches you fuck back against him. 
 “Let me see you do it.”
             He obliges, tilting his head at the request but allowing it nonetheless. You can feel him slip out of you before his fingers replace his cock. He doesn’t want to lose the feeling of your clenched pussy even for a moment as he guides you to roll over and shoves you back on the bed, your legs hanging off the end of it. He braces himself at the end of the mattress, resting his cock against your core as he scissors his fingers inside of you with a smile. 
 “Wanna see me fucking ruin you?” He smirks at you, pulling at your legs and guiding you to wrap them around him. “Watch me then.”
             You do, eyes zoned in on him as he grips tightly at your legs and pulls his fingers out of you. You can’t even catch your breath, which is no longer a shock to you, when he slides back into you. Studying his face as he does it, you can’t tell if he feels good or if this is just a service he does on the regular. You wonder what you’d have to do to break that stone-cold look in his eyes, what it takes to get him to moan without restraint, to show you that you’re also making him feel good.
             He fucks you so well, so deep, and god, it becomes so difficult to keep your eyes on him with each painful thrust. The bed continues to knock against the wall, your cries become louder and louder, and finally, fucking finally, you hear him release his breath in a low and guttural moan. 
             That’s it. That’s what you want to hear from him, time and time again. 
 “Harder,” you urge him, feeling his hands tighten around your legs before he’s releasing them and dropping his hand to your throat. “Harder.” You continue. 
             He does, putting all of his strength behind his thrusts, losing himself momentarily in the moment and squeezing your throat tighter as he grunts out at you with a defeated chuckle.
 “Of course, you’d be the one to pull this out of me.” He admits, his smile never falling from his lips as he closes his eyes and listens to the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of you. “Of course, you’d be the one to grip my cock like this.”
             You’re gone, not even realizing that you’ve been on the edge for a while now in the way his thick cock continuously massages your g-spot. You tighten your legs around him, forcing him to bury himself deep inside of you as you clench and grip around him in a release. 
             He allows it, sliding his hand up your throat before releasing it and using two of his fingers to hook your mouth open. There, he watches you drench him, he feels your arousal gushing out of your stuffed pussy and onto the bed, and now, now it’s his turn. 
 “That’s it, come all over me,” he coos, pulling his hips back and slamming back into you despite your tightened legs around him. “Feel it.” he adds, accenting his words with another particularly deep thrust. 
             You’re entirely silent, and he’s loving it as he slides his fingers deeper into your mouth, holding your tongue down and imagining which way he’d like to fill you up. He could watch his seed run down your thighs, he could pull out and fuck your throat until climax, he could pull out and deny himself a bit more, just to see you fall apart more. 
             It hits him a bit too fast though, when he’s looking down your throat and watching your eyes slowly open to look at him. There’s the tears, your sensitive pussy probably begging for him to pull out, to give you some relief, to be gentle. He offers one last thing to you, pulling his fingers from your mouth and dragging them down.
             There, he rubs against your swollen clit until you’re writhing under him to get away. Still no safe words have been used, and you’re fully capable of stopping him at this moment. But you don’t. So, he doesn’t stop. The sensation of your body writhing, fighting the pain, chasing the smallest hint of pleasure throws him into his release. He presses into you so hard that the bed remains in a slightly tilted position, fitting snugly against the wall as he paints your inner walls with thick, hot cum. 
             You whimper at the feeling, legs falling open from around him as your body tries to wiggle away with your post-orgasm shocks. He moans each time, falling forward half way through his orgasm.. 
 “You love being filled with my cum, don’t you?” He growls against your ear as he fucks his cum into you. “Is this what you wanted?”
             You listen to him speak, the words matching the pain in your body to such an extent that you’d probably let him keep going if he wanted to. You’d let him break you of all sanity, you’d let him tie you up, use you, abuse you. 
             And when he goes silent, his sweat dampened skin raises and he slips out of you with care and a deep sigh of relief. You simply lay there, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how long you’ve been here, why it took you so long to explore this side of your sexuality, and why you’re not ready for it to be over, despite your aching body. 
             You feel his presence leave you for a brief moment and return with a warm and wet towel. You jolt when it touches between your legs, and you almost pull away when he runs it over your clit. 
 “You must be sensitive,” Johnny says gently with a voice you’ve never heard from him, “They always are after their first time.”
             Nodding, you try to pull yourself up and close your legs, but your body feels stiff. 
 “Relax, you’ll probably faint if you try to stand up too fast.” He tries to explain, folding the towel over to clean you with a different side of it. “It’s not like a normal hook up, you know? If you’re gonna let me hurt you, you’ve gotta let me take care of you after.”
             Your throat is dry as you lay there, the sensation of even his gentle touches feeling like too much to handle. You feel like you can’t move, so you trust his words and try to relax.
 “That’s it, yeah,” He encourages, going to try and help you shuffle your body up to the head of the bead so that you at least have a pillow. “Take your time. You have my number if you ever wanna meet up again.”
             With that, Johnny steps himself into the bathroom and cleans himself up and when he comes back out, he’s already dressed and fixing his hair in the mirror before heading toward the door.
 “Wait,” You panic, lifting up quickly and feeling a bit light headed at the sudden movement, “You’re leaving?” 
             He smiles at you, nodding. Everything else you do as a newcomer may be fairly expected, but it’s rare when Johnny ends up with someone who doesn’t want him to leave after. 
 “I do have a day job, you know,” He tries to play it off as a joke, but he really didn’t think you expected him to stay. “Stay here and rest up. Check out is tomorrow at eleven so feel free to enjoy the room. Not sure if you noticed, but it’s one of the nicest hotels in the city.”
             Oh. Right, you didn’t notice. After all, when you got to the door the room practically didn’t exist to you outside of the floor in front of the bed, the bed, and the ceiling. 
 “Red.” You say, unsure if it’ll work.
 “Doesn’t work like that, sweetheart.” He finds it sweet, but dangerous nevertheless. He doesn’t sleep over with his fetish website meetups. He’s here to bring you pleasure and pain sexually, not emotionally. “Like I said, you’ve got my number.”
             You’re silent, watching him turn the knob on the door. 
 “Oh and,” He pauses, turning to look at you. “Don’t go off with other randoms from the site. Some of them don’t offer the kindness I offered to you today. Ease into it, I’ll be around to help if you need me.”
             Wondering if he’s implying that you should only see him when it comes to this sexual dynamic, you nod to him, trying to ignore the fact that he claimed “kindness” was being offered to you. If this was him being kind, you can’t help but wonder what he’s like when he’s…you know, not.
 ~
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anisespice · 1 year
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“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 2
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one || three
synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list. 
pairing: various x gn!reader [ hinata, bokuto, kuroo ]
warnings: cursing, suggestive language, hinata’s is SUPER long lol mild objectification, bo and kuroo’s are criminally the shortest ones i’ve written so far ugh (but they get the point across), and I think that’s it :D
notes: first of all, can i just say THANK Y'ALL SO MUCH ♡♡♡ i did not expect that headcanon to blow up, so i will do my very best to make the following ones just as juicy and entertaining for y'all :))) special thanks to @melanatedkink for helping out with this, she helps bring out my inner whore lol hope you guys enjoy !!
notes ii: didn't want the situations to get too repetitive, so these may take me a little longer for the other characters i do in the future, but i appreciate the love and patience for the series thus far !!! you guys are awesome
tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy
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HINATA knew all about the list. Being the social butterfly he was, it would be impossible for the topic not to come up in conversation, especially since a lot of his friends were on it. He found it interesting, to say the least, but never really took the whole thing too seriously. It was just for shits and giggles after all, right?
During a water break in the gym, Hinata aimed for his mouth while squeezing the bottle. Most made it inside, but the rest dripped down his chin. Thinking nothing of it, the spiker used the bottom of his jersey to wipe his face dry, be it water or sweat. And even though it was for a split second, it was more than enough time for the damage to be done to the hearts of those chilling up by the railing on the first level. Beneath the LEDs, in all their sinful glory, were Shoyo Hinata’s nipple piercings. 
The gates of heaven have opened, and the choir sings a hymn. But, along came Satan, as he rubbed his seedy hands together in mischief. The groupies were shellshocked and knew they must alert the masses, eyeing their prey all the way until the end of practice. This caught the attention of a certain blonde setter, who brought it to Hinata’s attention right off the bat as they cleaned up the court.
“Oi. Don’t wanna alarm ya or anythin’, but…those spectators up there been eye-ballin’ you for quite a while. Could be trouble.”
The tangerine gave a confused grin, looking over his shoulder in their direction. Sure enough, their eyes never wavered, not even after being caught. However, he merely shrugged it off. “It’s probably nothing.”
Atsumu hummed, skeptically. Though, he didn’t push it any further.
Once they were dismissed and sent to the showers, by the time Hinata was done he'd be the only one left in the locker room. He had to take his time and be extra careful not to bump his piercings, still kinda sensitive. Kageyama offered to stay behind so they could walk back together, "HINATA-BOKE, HURRY UP BEFORE I LEAVE YOUR SLOW ASS IN HERE."
But, Hinata politely declined. "SUCK A DICK, BAKAYAMA. I'm going over [_____]'s tonight, so go on ahead!"
With a nod, the stoic setter took his leave. "Cool. Tell 'em I said hey. See you tomorrow."
"See ya tomorrow!"
And then, all was quiet.
The only sounds filling the space were the running water, his humming, and the flickering overhead lights. When he stepped out with a towel wrapped snuggly around his waist, Hinata heard the sound of his phone ringing in his bag. His tired expression soon melted into joy at the cheesy love song he used as your ringtone.
Pressing the answer button, Hinata greeted you with his face all in the camera, and a bright, "Hi, [_____]!!~ You here already?"
Your eyes were on the road but you grinned, adoringly. "Hi, Sho. And, no, almost there though. I stopped by the canteen to grab some dinner. Know how hungry you get after practice."
"Mmm, starved. You're an angel, angel."
Staying on the call as he changed, the two of you conversed about each other's day as normal. However, when the topic of those groupies eventually came up, it instantly made you tense. Even though most of his fans were harmless, there were still a few rotten apples in the bunch that made you wary. "God, don’t tell me they asked you to spike their ass like a ball again."
Hinata snorted, throwing on a clean shirt, "That wasn't me, remember? That was Sakusa-san. Never seen him look so horrified." You laughed, having recalled. "But, according to 'tsumu-san, they hardly took their eyes off me tonight.”
“That’s old news, babe. Those vultures are always watching you.”
“Not always-”
"ALWAYS." You affirmed, pulling up to the building. Parking outside the doors, you teasingly said, "We can continue talking about how wrong you are in the car, I’m outside. And hurry, the food's gonna get cold."
"Yes, boss," he chuckled, gathering up his things. Throwing the duffle over his shoulder, Hinata made haste for the lobby, making sure to turn the lights off behind him. “See you in a minute, sunshine.~”
With that he hung up, walking with a spring in his step. He had a surprise for you, and couldn’t wait to finally show them off later. Now that the piercings had healed enough, Hinata couldn’t fight the obscene images clouding his mind of all the things you’d do once you saw them. It made him dizzy just thinking about it…
Unfortunately, someone would beat him to the punch. Or, more specifically, something.
‘Shoyo Hinata. 5’6ft sweetheart, and a ball of energy who’ll light up any room he walks into. He may look all innocent, but clearly, we’ve been underestimating him. Kinda has everyone wondering what other piercings he may be hiding…and where.~ What he may lack in height, he makes up for in girth. Expect to go for several rounds back to back, ‘cause he’s got STAMINA. This man will also be very vocal—Talk you through an orgasm, how good you make him feel, dirty-talk, begging, you name it—He is BIG on communication. He's also a cuddler, after-care will be disgustingly sweet, and pillow talk will be a must. 100/10.’
Wow. You suspected those parasites were up to no good, but never would’ve expected this. The picture attached to the thread was of your boyfriend, mid-air from blocking a ball, with his arms straight up. As he was coming down, his shirt was coming up, exposing his whole torso. It was a little blurry, but whoever took the photo zoomed in enough to where you could easily make out the silver on his nipples.
You pursed your lips, uncertain on how to feel. On one hand, you were kinda annoyed they, let alone the whole campus, got to see them before you even knew about them. But, on the horny hand…
“Hey, gorgeous!” Hinata exclaimed, startling you out of your thoughts. He had opened the back door, and threw his bag on the seat before eagerly joining you in the front. Leaning across the console to give you a kiss, he was taken aback when you stopped him, placing a finger on his lips. “Mmm?”
You gave him a blank look, making him a little nervous. He was just on the phone with you and things were totally fine, what could’ve possibly changed in the five minutes it took him to get to the car? Hinata didn’t have to ponder for long, though. Not when you used that very same finger to hook around his collar, yanking it downward. He yelped, pulling away in the last second, but his reflexes couldn’t save him this time.
You confirmed it with your own eyes now.
“I uh—…T-Those are…,” he spluttered, scratching his cheek. You happily watched him squirm, arms crossed with a knowing grin on your face. Hinata sweat-dropped. “I-I was gonna t-tell you, I swear, but I wanted them to heal a little before I did, so that you could…”
“Could what, Sho?”
His face was pure vermilion. With a huff, Hinata whined, “How’d you even find out? I had a whole thing planned and everything! Was it Bakayama? Did he tell you?? Dammit, I knew I should’ve asked someone else to come with me to the appointment!”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t Kageyama. I told you so, those vultures are always watching.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll tell you later. For now,” you reached over again, this time with both hands as lithe fingertips slid underneath the thin cotton of his shirt, trailing up the smooth skin until you brushed against the perked nubs. Hinata twitched, immediately biting back a moan as you began teasing them at once. If he got any redder, he’d surely pass out from all the blood rushing to his head. Luckily, it was also rushing elsewhere. “Let’s hurry and get you back to mine’s, hm?"
"...S-So I uhn," he keened when you lightly tugged on one, hand reflexively grabbing your wrist, but not to stop you. His eyes fluttered as he let you feel him up as much as you pleased, mouth hung open as he began panting like a dog. "...I take it y-you like them, then?"
"Oh, baby, I love 'em. Best investment ever, honestly. Can't wait to put them in my mouth," you sighed dreamily, gently pinching to elicit a moan from the ginger. Music to your ears. From the look on his face, he could probably cum from this feeling alone. You pulled away at the thought, smirking as he instantly began protesting.
"Aht, not so fast, we still gotta eat. But, don't worry. You'll get your dessert."
Homie nodded so quick, you were sure he gave himself whiplash. Adorable.
By the end of a very long night full of debauchery, you eventually told him about the list and how exactly you found out about the piercings. And you know what? He couldn’t even be mad. At least it wasn't Kageyama.
“Oh! He says ‘hey’ by the way.”
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Now, BOKUTO thought he knew about the list. But after the whole…misunderstanding with Akaashi, it turned out he knew absolutely nothing. Granted, how he felt about it didn’t really change after his friends spent over an hour explaining it to him. If anything, it fueled his distaste for it even more. When he showed up on your doorstep looking absolutely distraught, fat tears rolling down his face as he proclaimed his unwavering devotion to you, you only needed one guess. 
‘Kotaro Bokuto. 6’2ft of GAWD DAMN. He's sweet, confident, and R E S P E C T F U L?? We love a triple threat. Not to mention how MASSIVE he is, and don’t even get me started on his ass. Would literally be unable to keep my hands to myself, just saying. Like how you see him dominate the volleyball court, the same could be said for the bedroom, without a doubt. Bokuto loves to give, but he’s also a taker. Definitely gives off Switch with service Dom tendencies. Plus he’s greedy. He doesn’t care if you already came four times, give him some more!!! ∞/10. He is beyond the standard. Argue with the wall.’ 
You remembered reading it while taking a break from studying, merely brushing it off. It was only a matter of time he’d end up on their radar, you had prepared for it since the list first started circulating around campus. Frankly, you had completely forgotten about it; up until now. 
“Ko, baby, please calm down-”
“I don’t care how many people wanna touch my ass! They can’t have it, it’s for you to touch and nobody else!” 
You quickly pulled him into your room before he screamed any more embarrassing stuff in the hallway, knowing your neighbors probably recognized his voice by now. The last thing you wanted was another noise complaint, your RA already despised his visits enough to consider banning him altogether–Whether or not they had the authority, you’d rather not find out today. 
Once behind the safety of a closed door, the behemoth of a man came crashing down to his knees, arms circling around your midriff as he buried himself in your stomach. You jumped slightly as your room shook from the sudden action, deeply exhaling in order to reconfigure your thinning patience. Taking a page from Akaashi’s book, you knew getting snippy with Bokuto while he was in this state would only worsen it, so you approached cautiously. 
“Ko,” you cooed, reaching down to caress his deflated hair. He sniffled, hugging you closer in response. Gently, you pushed him far enough to see his face, wiping away the tears as you offered him a soft smile. “Look at me, do I look upset to you?”
Bokuto took a moment to search your eyes, then shook his head.
“Exactly. Which means you don’t need to be, you’ve done nothing wrong. Now stand up, I’m sure that drop hurt your knees, didn’t it?” 
He sniffled once more, then nodded. Slightly embarrassed, Bokuto stumbled back up to his full height, and sure enough, his knees were red. You tsked, gesturing to your desk chair for him to sit on while you fetched an ice pack from your fridge. 
“Although I appreciate the reassurance, I already knew you were on the list, babe.” 
Bokuto’s head shot up from looking at the floor, mood instantly doing a one-eighty as he gaped at you in shock. “HUH? Why didn’t you say anything to me about it?”
“I didn’t think you cared,” you replied, chuckling. “It’s been up for weeks. I figured you saw it and just ignored it, or something. Besides, I’ve gotten used to people openly expressing their attraction to you, so it wasn’t anything new.” 
“You shouldn’t have to get used to it! People need to respect our relationship, no matter how fantastic I am!” 
You snorted, but couldn’t help the chuckle. Returning with an ice pack, you kneeled by his legs and placed the cooling relief upon the irritated skin. “Mm, you are pretty fantastic. But, I don’t mind the attention you get, Ko. Because I know I’m the lucky one who gets you all to myself.” 
Bokuto beamed down at you, lower lip quivering at the praise. 
Effortlessly, he swooped you up from the floor and held you in his lap, the ice pack long forgotten as it slipped out your hands. With a loving squeeze, Bokuto nuzzled into the side of your neck, forcing soft giggles out of you from the ticklish feeling as you hugged him back. You felt so warm in his embrace, and he smelled like home. Even if you’d never say such corny things out loud, the way you melted in his arms was enough for him to know exactly how you felt; it was mutual.
"Plus, you can get a bit intense. They wouldn't last the night."
"Hey, hey, hey, you got that right," Bokuto grinned, smugly. "No one could ever handle me as well as you do, baby owl..." he purred, warm breath fanning over the skin of your shoulder, signaling goosebumps up your arms. You hummed in thought, snuggling in closer, whilst also not-so-accidentally grinding back against the flag pole in his sweats. He grunted, hips jerking upward in surprise.
"Hm, I dunno. It's been a while, I may have forgotten how."
Bokuto chuckled at the tease, the vibrations deep within his chest as he squeezed you a little tighter. You bit your lip to hold in your giddiness as his large hands began to wander, feeling a different kind of warmth as he began to overwhelm your senses. Trailing wet kisses from your shoulder to the side of your face, he playfully nipped at your cheek, eliciting a tiny squeal from you as you wiggled in his hold. And doing so only made you grind back on him even more.
His breathing grew heavier with each passing second, letting out a guttural groan before he flipped you around, making you straddle him. To anyone else, experiencing his sudden mood changes would've given them whiplash. Just moments prior, he'd been on his knees, crying with his head buried in your stomach like it was the end of the world. Now, he looked about five seconds from being on his knees for a different reason. For you, it was just another Wednesday.
"That so? How 'bout I remind you then?"
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KUROO thought the list was the most hilarious thing to ever occur on campus, hands down one of his go-to's for entertainment when he’s bored. 
Like right now. 
The lecture dragged on for what felt like forever, the professor mumbling about absolutely nothing of value as everyone in the class busied themselves with whatever would keep them awake. Some played games on their laptops pretending to take notes, while others blatantly chatted with their deskmates.
With an airpod in, Kuroo had you on facetime in the corner of his screen so that you could keep each other company while he scrolled through social media, and you put away dishes. You tried to convince him to leave the class early, "Clearly you aren't paying attention, so you might as well."
"Unfortunately, he only counts attendance if you sign your name on the exit sheet at the very end of the lecture. So leaving early's out of the question." He muttered. You hummed in understanding, then chortled.
"Oh. Sucks to be you, then."
Kuroo glared half-heartedly at you, but it completely softened at the sound of your laughter, despite it being at his expense. He kissed his teeth after checking the time, mildly annoyed that he still had less than ten minutes. “Why’d you even take the course if you couldn’t care less about it?”
“I needed another elective. And…Kenma was the one who recommended it. Said it’d be an easy pass.”
“And you believed him?” Cue another round of your laughter.
He grumbled, off-screen for you but clearly pouting as he chose to ignore your question. No matter, his silence was answer enough.
With a mere shake of your head, you continued putting away dishes on your end. Kuroo, on the other hand, found himself stumbling upon something that perked him up instantly. After refreshing the feed for more mindless content, the user-handle he knew all too well showed itself like a beacon of hope, beckoning him with the promise of filling the next ten minutes with something way more interesting than…whatever this class was about.
@/FckIt22.
After the last fiasco with Bokuto, then later on Kenma, the ravenette contemplated blocking them. As golden as those situations were, something told him that deep down he could be next. But, it was days like this he was glad he didn’t. His boredom was becoming unbearable…and it was so tempting. What harm could it do to look at this one little upda—“HAH?!”
‘Tetsurou Kuroo. 6’2ft gentleman that you’d proudly take home to mom, and even get your father’s approval. With his charm and roguish good looks, it's no wonder his reputation screams 'playboy'. But, he can’t fool me. I know what he is. A whole SUB, no sandwich. I’m sure being as tall as he is, and how he carries himself, people automatically assume he’s a Dom. False. If you’re looking to be dominated, keep looking. Kuroo wants to be babied, told he’s a good boy, and edged until he nearly passes out. Definitely a little brat, but his hair defies gravity for a reason, PULL ON IT. Boss him around, take control, and watch him literally melt in your hands. 8/10 because he's also a stubborn mofo. Literally would pay to see this man cry from overstimulation ugh.’ 
Kuroo shot out of his seat, practically piercing right through the air of humdrum. He not only startled you, but the entire lecture hall including the professor. Comically slapping a hand over his mouth, Kuroo’s face immediately began to burn from not only his outburst but also at the fact that his karma came way sooner than he was prepared for...
He wanted nothing more than for the ceiling to collapse on him and him only.
“Tetsu?? Are you okay, what happened?? Hello??”
"U-Uh, I'll call you back." He squeaked, double-tapping his airpod to end the call.
The professor crossed his arms, "Mr. Tetsurou. I understand that my lecture may not be the most enjoyable part of your day, but I would appreciate it if you endured it for just," the professor checks his watch, "six more minutes. Is that alright with you?"
Before he could even open his mouth to give an excuse, a chorus of vibrations, dings, and whistles from various phones instantly made the business major shrivel up. Next thing he knew, what used to be a room full of the undead was now livelier than ever before. Kuroo could feel every single one of their searing gazes; like being an insect under a microscope.
"Bro, this you?" A student sitting behind him leaned forward, phone in hand as he shoved it in Kuroo's face. The picture stared back at him, smugly grinning and shirtless as he ironically thirst-trapped the camera. Out of all the pictures…
He internally cringed. "U-Uhh..."
"Please, everyone settle down, so we can continue-" The professor attempted to redirect focus, but he had already lost it way before all this happened. A few more students jumped straight into bombarding him with questions, eager to push for more info now that this supposed new side of him had been revealed.
“Whoa, how much of this is true??”
“Kuroo-san, I’ll happily baby you!~”
“Aw man, thought for sure you’d be the type to take control, not give it up. What a bummer. No offense.”
He absolutely took offense to that.
With no help from the professor, as he tried and failed to recollect everyone's attention, Kuroo thought of the next best course of action to get him out of this sticky situation. Jumping out a two-story window didn't sound so bad, and the broken bones would be a great distraction from the suffocating feeling of public humiliation.
In the midst of all the theories and queries being thrown at him from every angle, his phone went off multiple times. Mostly from you, but the rest were no doubt the groupchat clowning him once they caught wind of the news. The guys weren't gonna let him live this one down, that's for certain. And to make matters worse...he still had four long minutes left in the class.
He exhaled, "Should've blocked 'em when I had the chance..."
Gathering up his stuff, Kuroo used his long legs to evade the ever-growing crowd of prodding students, all most likely not even caring about the post itself, but more so just wanting to kill class time; he refused to be a scapegoat.
Marching right up to the professor, who gave up trying to round up the class, the rooster-head mustered up the most pathetic look possible to evoke sympathy outta the wrinkly man. "Hey, so uh… may I please be excused a little early for this one time, sir? I'd really hate to be such a distraction from your insightful lecture-"
"Just go, Mr. Tetsurou." Didn't need to tell him twice.
As soon as he made it to your dorm, you could imagine his shock that his friends were already there, waiting as if they knew he'd come running straight to you. You offered him a teasing grin, shrugging as you said, “They came for…emotional support.”
He didn't know if he was mortified or mortified—Yaku, Yamamoto, Bokuto, Akaashi, hell, even Kenma rolled out of bed, wrapped in a blanket burrito and all, just to see the look on his best friend's face. He grinned, sardonically, then patted the empty spot on the couch right next to him. "Welcome to the club. We've been expecting you."
Oh, he was definitely blocking that godforsaken list now. And finding a new elective.
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