#i think you’d become just as obsessed with her tongue as she is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misserabella · 8 months

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SICK LOVE

perv! obsessed ellie x fem!reader pt.2

pt1

summary; after catching your best friend ellie in a compromised situation, the two of you leave behind the ‘friend’ status to become a couple. if only you knew there was much more under the surface…

cw; +18 content, really perv!ellie, dark themes, somnophilia, breeding kink, daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squiring, oral sex (r and e receiving), dom ellie, strap on sex, use of toys (dildo and magic wand), masturbation (r and e), edging, slapping, orgasm denial, cum eating, voyeurism, dacryphilia, dirty talking, hair pulling, knife kink, (mentioned), blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

If Ellie was absolutely and sickly obsessed with you…, it sure wasn’t the worse it could get.

Her mind was in a haze since the first time she made you hers. It had been before, but now? It was just fog all over her brain, a fog under your name.

She could only think about you, dream about you, talk about you… It was all you.

And now that you were hers, her whole heart seemed to have been ripped out of her chest. She would love to make a necklace out of it for you, so you and anyone who would try and approach you would know that she was as much yours as you were hers.

But because she could not do that, she had made her personal mission to found other ways to do the same with no… Hanging hearts. So she had to conform with just marking you everywhere. Hickeys on your neck and chest, fingertip bruises on your thighs and hips, bites on your shoulders… She’ll put them everywhere and do them anywhere too, whenever and wherever she had a chance.

At first, she thought that you’d be scared by her possessiveness, but you surprised her yet once again when you’d just let her, loving her lips and marks on your skin as much as she did. She’d drag you to the closest empty classroom in free period just to pin you against the wall and attack your neck in mouth open wet kisses that had you rocking your hips against the leg that she had pushed in between your own, her cold fingertips against the warm skin of your thighs and ass, squeezing . “Looking so pretty today, baby.” she’d say, her breath against the wet of your skin, making you shiver. “Fuck, I love it when you wear this little skirts of yours, got me all wet on my pants.” you’d moan when her hand would leave your skin just to fell harshly against it in a spank. “Love to see all those fuckers watching you, drooling over you yet still unable to get closer to you because they know you’re all mine...” her mouth was intoxicating, her tongue inside your mouth making your eyes roll and pussy throb. “Wear anything you want baby, anything you want.” she’d whisper, her fingertips trailing along your lower stomach just to bump against the hem of your panties and snuck under them, rolling your clit and making your head fall backwards and against the wall she had pinned you to. “I’ll make sure to mark you all up and pretty for them to know that they will never have what they so want.” and then, she’d choke you to stay quiet as she’d eat you out on top of the teacher’s table, sneaking your wet panties in her back pocket for later.

Her obsession enhanced. Now that you were a couple, she didn’t have to hold it in anymore —at least that much…—. She’d sneak in your bedroom in the middle of the night to wake you up with her strap deep inside of you. You’d end up crying on her chest as she would fuck you dumb, filling you up for hours on end and using you as she would use her toy. Then, she’d stay inside, keeping her cock warm and your pussy full for the rest of the night. She’d even use the soft spot you had on her to make you sit on it in your stupid study dates, while napping, watching films…, saying that she wouldn’t concentrate if you didn’t.

She was a sucker for you, always tying up your shoes when the laces would come undone —taking the chance to stare at your clothed pussy—, braiding your hair for you —so she could get a sniff of your sweet shampoo—, putting on your makeup first thing in the morning when you were still half asleep —when she could steal some chapsticks for him to use and taste when she’d miss you— and softly taking it off for you when night time came… —sometimes she’d make you cry it out, fucking it out of you—. Anything she could do for you she would do, that and more.

She would often find herself in your room after telling you that she had to take a quick trip to the bathroom, looking for some new panties and little trinkets for her sweet collection and to touch herself buried in your sheets. She’d dry hump your pillow too, leaving it damp in cum for it to dry. The thought of you sleeping on it that night would have her whimpering in her own bedroom, fucking her fingers into her cunt while watching a bad porn in where the girl’s moans sounded like your own, groans falling from her broken and bleeding lips, for constantly biting down on them. ‘Oh god, baby, so good… shit, you like that? Shit, just like that, fuck, you drive me insane…’

Her photo collection had grown… Really grown. Her favorite new acquisitions were the ones in which she had captured your perfectly used cunt, —your cum dripping out of it and onto your pink sheets— or the ones in which she could see her cock thrusting in your pussy, drool dripping down your chin, since her fingers where down your throat, and chest, neck and tits full of her marks. ‘Yeah, baby. Look at me. Just like that. Stuck your tongue out for me.’

She could not imagine herself nor pussy being away from you for even just a day. And who is it that you want to trick? You couldn’t either. Not when she sounded so fucking pretty every time you rode her, her usually soft groans becoming loud whimpers and moans, hips thrusting upwards in seek of more. ‘Fuck, ah, ah baby, please, please baby harder. Just like that, fuck, yes yes, shit, I love you. Love you so much… I’d do anything for you, baby, fuck, anything. Just let me stay like this, fuck! I’m gonna cum baby, fuck, fuck, fuck…’

Something she loved to do every chance she could get was taste you after cheer practice —something you’ve decided try as of late, and Ellie was all for it—. You had whined about it, saying that you were all sweaty and disgusting and that it wouldn’t taste good, but she wasn’t having it. She had been watching you turn, jump and shake your hips for almost two hours in that fucking little cheer skirt that actually drove her crazy. And she had to say that the splits that you’d do every now and then really didn’t help the throbbing in between her thighs. So, after your head leader had announced the end of the session, you’d find yourself holding for dear life to her hair as she kneeled in front of you, pulling up one of your legs for it to rest on her shoulder as her tongue laped at your soaked pussy, eating you out against the lockers of the girls’ changing room. The scent was stronger after your night practices. The taste? Mind blowing. Additionally, you had to admit that the shower sex after that was enough to make you fall asleep on your way back home. Not that she found it a problem, she loved to carry you to her bed just to kiss your forehead and hug you tighter in your slumber. Watching you sleep would get her so horny sometimes that she couldn’t help herself by dry humping against your ass, hands on your tits as she kissed your neck. She loved it when you would yell at her the morning after about the new hickeys all over your skin —since she always seemed to push it too far those nights—, but she wouldn’t care less, not when your tits bounced like that and your pretty lips called her name over and over again. At the end of the day, she’d have you screaming her name in another type of scenario, and you wouldn’t be that pissed about love bites on your neck.

She also loved to tease you. Pushing your panties aside and fucking you with her fingers while in a gathering with your best friends. Your squirming and tries to not show having her rocking against your ass. Sometimes she’d even drop something under the diner’s table where you’d be eating together to get a taste of your dripping juices, making you almost cum in the spot. Or those movie nights with your group, where she’d have you crying in the nook of her shoulder due to the amount of times she had already made you cum with her fingers, deliciously overstimulating you. ‘Is she okay?’ You’d hear one of your friends ask, and Ellie would just say that you were too sensitive or too scared depending on what type of movie y’all were watching that night.

The best sex came later, when you would follow her to the bathroom and she would fuck you so harsh on her strap your cheek would end up press against the sink mirror, fingers down your throat to make you shut up, since your cries were so loud it almost got the two of you caught… Not that she’d care, just the thought of someone stepping in to her fucking you senseless had her cumming against the back of the strap… Cum that she’d push inside your cunt with her fingers as she pushed your panties back up for it to stay there.

“Be a good girl and I’ll eat it out of you once we are alone, hm?” and she actually would, making you come two more times with just her tongue, leaving you clean.

Something she had started to look into was a little bit more…, darker. She had feared herself when the thought of you bleeding with her initials carved on your skin almost made her faint. Just thinking about you completely to her mercy, all tied up and open for her unable to move, got her unable to sleep for almost a week. She could almost hear your pleads and cries as she fucked into you with already a little vibrator bullet inside.

But the dream you both where living in had to end someday. She just wished it never had to.

That night, the two of you were returning from a day on the Jackson’s pool with Dina and Jessie, your hair still wet since you had been begging her to stay for a little longer, having to pull you out of the water when the sun had gone down and you were shivering, fingers all pruned due to just how many hours you had spent in there. The skin of your cheeks, chest and shoulders was sun kissed, flushed even if Ellie had made sure that you had sunscreen applied every hour. “Woah! Careful babe.” she smiled when you had slipped against the wooden tiles, giggles leaving your lips when her strong arms pressed you against her chest to avoid you falling and hurting yourself.

“Sorry, I guess I can’t help falling for you, Ellie.” she chuckled, your burning skin against her colder one making her slightly dizzy, her pussy throbbing inside her blue short jeans when your nails scratched her chest, doe eyes looking up at her as you bit your bottom lip.

“That’s my line, baby.” she muttered, leaning in ‘till your breaths met, lips brushing and hips pressing against each other. You moaned when her tongue pushed inside your mouth in a hot yet lazy kiss, the hands on your hips sliding down, to your ass, where her fingers hardly dug, squeezing and pressing you against her.

The temperature of the room quickly changed, gasps filling the air with every new kiss that you shared, her fingers tugging on the towel that surrounded you and getting it to fall to your feet. You let out a chuckle that quickly tuned into a moan when her mouth latched to your neck, bitting down hard on the flesh and leaving marks. “Els…” you called out for her, hearing her hum against your skin as one of her legs pushed in between your thighs. “We need to shower.”

“I’ll clean you up baby.” your cheeks flushed when her tongue made a long strip up your neck and towards your ear. “You know I’m good at that.” and you knew what she meant, but you still wouldn’t give in, hearing her groan when you pulled her away from your neck by her hair. “Baby…” her lips tried and go back to yours, but you shook your head.

“I need to go wash up.” her hands pulled on your hips to keep you closer.

“I could wash up with you.” she suggested and you chuckled, shaking your head, to what she whined, almost in pain to have to be away from you for… 10 minutes.

“I’ll be back.” you promised, giving her a little peck on the lips, leaning on her ear so only she could listen to what you whispered. “Keep this warm for me, alright?” she whimpered when one of your hands came down to the crotch of his jeans, giving a light squeeze to her drooling cunt, quickly leaving upstairs and scaping her hands.

Normally, Ellie was pretty patient. Hell, she had been patient with you for years on end, hoping for the day that she got to finally fuck you. But there was something about you after that first taste that had her all hot and bothered. You were like a drug. She’d always want more and more after each overdose. She couldn’t help it, you were all she had ever dreamed of. That’s why she found herself silently sneaking up stairs and straight to her room —which was connected to her private bathroom, where you had eventually brought little bottles of your own shampoos and conditioners for this little occasions where you had to shower at her house—. She had hoped to catch you stripping, maybe even looking for some of her clothes to change into, but never in a thousand years she had imagined this…

You were frozen, completely frozen. Standing in the middle of her room and beside her desk, which’s last drawer was fully open and exposed. She felt her blood run cold. That was supposed to be locked. You weren’t supposed to see what was inside, weren’t supposed to be eyeing her little collection of your naked pictures nor porn magazines with your face glued on top of the model’s. You had seen it all. All the little trinkets she has stolen from you…, all the panties that had misteriously disappeared from your drawers, the new and untouched toys she had bought in hopes to someday use on you: mouth gags, dildos, vibratos, handcuffs…Everything.

“Baby…” she stuttered, your eyes still fixated on the little polaroids and sticky pages of the magazine. It hadn’t been long since the last time she had masturbated to them. Maybe that’s why in a little slip she had forgotten to lock the drawer, the magazine sticking out far enough to catch your attention and leaving you out of words when you’d found her little dirty secret. “Shit.” You had even found her fucking diary, in which she described the dirty things she dreamed of you, that she’d love to do to you… Fucking hell.

She didn’t know what to say to not seem like the creep she was. She had fucked up big time. And now you were going to leave her, you were going to probably call the police and get her in jail with a little restraining order as a welcome gift. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, fuck, you weren’t supposed to see any of this, you weren’t supposed to…” she was trailing off as her feet quickly approached you, trying so hard not to cry that her heart fell to the pit of her stomach when a little whimper came out of your rosy and fully lips. Her eyes widened when she saw the look on your face and state you were in: half-lided and glossy eyes looking up at her, cheeks and ears fully blushed and thighs squeezing and pushing flush against each other. You were supposed to feel disgusted, terrified. And yet there you were, wetter and needier than ever. “Look at me.” the low of her voice almost made you cum, walls clenching and breath hitching.

“Ellie…” you whined when her thumb and index finger harshly took your chin, making your head turn towards her. Your voice was a mere whisper, but it still had her blood rushing to her head… and south.

“Look at me.” she repeated, this time taking her time with every word to make sure you heard the warning on them. It was not a plead, it was an order. You gasped when your eyes met hers, completely fucked out of your brain and feeling dizzy, Ellie made you feel dizzy, the words on her diary had. It was just so much need in them, so many promises of tears and pleasure… Her eyes were just two black holes, pupils blown and breathing slow. “Look at you. You’re getting off on this?” she chuckled, unable to believe any of it. You whimpered when her hand left your chin to grip your neck, pulling you against her chest and caging you against the wall on your back. You were boiling up, almost evaporating when her lips brushed against the conch of your ear. “Did my little secret turn you on, baby? Did that little pussy of yours got all wet while reading my diary?” you moaned when her leg pressed in between your thighs, she could feel the heat of your core against her bare thigh. “Aw of course you did, you love it, don’t you? Love to know just how much I crave you. How much I want to hurt you and make you cry on my cock. Make you bleed… Fuck you all up and pretty for me until you’re nothing more than a hole for me to fuck into, hm?” you nodded, your head falling backwards in a whimper when she pushed upwards and against your clit, making you rut on her. Her lips were all over your neck, sucking on that sensitive spot that got you begging her for more. “Is that what you want, baby? Want me to fill you up on my cum? Use you? Cut you?”

“Fuck, Ellie, yesyesyes please, anything you want. Anything.” she groaned against the skin of your shoulder, biting hard enough to leave a mark. It hurt, badly, but it only made you crave her more. Crave it more. Your hands tangled on her air, her half-lidded eyes on yours, which were fixated on her lips.

“What is it baby? Want a taste?” she leaned in, a smirk on his face. You whined at her teasing, pushing her against you when her lips brushed against yours, still not giving in. She clicked her tongue, the hand on your neck pining you harshly against the wall, making your head bump slightly against it. “If you want something… You just need to ask.” your back arched when her free hand snuck down to your chest, tugging on your upper part of your bikini, making your tits pop out. You gasped at her harsh grip on one of them.

“Please Ellie, kiss me, kiss me…” you craved it so bad it hurt.

“Poor thing. Why don’t you open your mouth for me, hm?” you didn’t wait to follow her words, moaning when her tongue entered your mouth, hips stuttering as you dry humped her thigh. She kissed you to the verge of tears. It felt so good, her right hand on your neck and her left leaving your nipples to slowly stumble down your stomach and slip inside the bottoms of your bikini, which laces she quickly unmade, throwing the piece of clothing aside. Your mouth fell open in a cry when her fingers bumped against your clit, a harsh slap being given to your cunt when her name fell from your lips. Your hips buckled against her hand, the sting bringing new tears to your eyes. “Be good baby, you know that’s not my name, is it?” you shook your head.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry daddy…” a smirk tugged on her lips, and she rewarded you with her fingertips back on that sensitive spot, when your mouth fell open in a whimper taking the chance and spitting inside of it.

“Now swallow.” you gratefully did, gasping for air when the hand on your neck pushed in your mouth, fingers making you whimper. “What a beautiful mouth you have…” you moaned when she thrusted her fingers in your throat. And you took it, tongue swirling and sucking on them as you rocked your hips against her fingers and thigh. “Yet no one has yet showed you how to properly use it.” you felt like crying when she took a step back, leaving you squirming and in need of her touch, which came back, harshly than ever to make you sink to your knees, fingers in between your locks. “You know your safe word, right?” you nodded as you heard the ruffling of her jeans and underwear, zipper and button unbuckled leading the denim to fall and pool around her ankles, her soaked underwear came shortly after. She looked into your eyes as she stepped out of them. “Good… If it’s too much just let me know, okay sweetheart?” You moaned affirmatively when she parted her legs, letting her soaked folds and throbbing clit show, her slick staining her inner thighs. “Open.” she didn’t have to ask twice, lips parting ready to receive her on your mouth, which was watering at the thought of a taste of her, of swallowing her cum. She cursed when you kitten licked her from her hole to her clit, the tangy taste of her arousal making your eyes roll to the back of your head and your hands eagerly push her hips closer, head leaning in to completely take her as you pushed one of her thighs over your shoulder, just to whimper when she tugged harder on your hair, not letting you get any closer. “Such a fucking slut hungry for pussy.” she chuckled, loving just how needy you looked to have her on your mouth. “I bet that’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t that right? Want me to fuck that little and pretty mouth of yours, hm?” you nodded, a ‘yes, please daddy, want your pussy so bad…’, leaving your lips, what made her click her tongue, tongue slightly gracing her core when you pushed it out of your mouth. “Then fucking take it.” you were moaning when she thrusted her hips against your mouth, the hand in your hair pushing you against her cunt, nose buried in her pubic hair as your nails dug on her thighs. You couldn’t breath. “What is it, baby? Isn’t this what you wanted?” you whimpered when she started to grind onto your tongue, picking up a pace that had you short on air. But the feeling of her cunt fucking your mouth had you only begging for more of that harsh treatment, making you impossibly wet. You were crying in pleasure and pain, tears running down your cheeks as you sucked on her clit. “Aw, you crying?” the sight of your tears only made her buck her hips harder and faster against your face. “I couldn’t care less.” Ellie could feel her hole twitching around your tongue every time you fucked it deep inside her. “Yeah, baby, shit, just like that… What a dirty girl…” one of the hands that stood on her thighs travelled down in between your legs, fingers circling your clit in search of a release that you so desperately wanted. “Are you touching yourself?“ you nodded against her pussy, your nose bumping against her clit and a whimper leaving your lips when she gave you a harsh slap. “Such a desperate little bitch… Who told you you could make yourself cum, huh?” she pulled away from your mouth and you gasped for air, which didn’t actually last long since there was already a hand around your neck as she kneeled with you.

“I’m sorry daddy!” you quickly apologized, taking your hand away from your soaking pussy.

“Yeah, you’ll be.” next thing you knew? Your back was making impact with her bedsheets, getting a moan out of your lips when her body pressed against yours, lips latched to your neck.

“Fuck!” you screamed when two of her fingers harshly pushed inside of you, fucking you as she sucked on your nipples, fully erect.

“Is this what you wanted, hm? Tell me baby, is this what you wanted? My fingers fucking your brains out and making you cum? I’m sure you do, you dirty whore…” you thighs trembled when she hit that sweet spot in your gummy walls, thumb circling your clit.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you nodded, unable to talk, unable to fucking open your mouth. All you could focus on was on Ellie, on her long fingers fucking in and out of you, of her teeth on your tits, on her pussy fully pressed against one of your thighs, leaking and ready to cum.

“Fuck Ellie, i-i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna…” and as your walls clenched, you cried out when she left you with nothing. Making your high never reach its peak as she pulled his fingers out of you. Your whole body was trembling due to the denial of your orgasm, hands quickly reaching out for her, but she pressed them against the duvet, fingers digging in your wrists. “Please, Ellie, daddy, shit, I was so close…”

“I didn’t say you could come yet, sweetheart. Only good girls get to cum.” oh, she was playing you. You knew this was her little vengeance for that day you had caught her touching herself. Her eyes shone with lust when you whimpered due to the spank her hand gave to your soaked cunt. “Look at that. You really want it, hm? So needy for me…” your back arched when her thumb was back to your clit, toying with the little nub enough to edge you but not to make you cum. She relished in the little pleads that left your lips. ‘Please daddy, let me cum, please? I’ll do anything, anything. Ellie, shit, please…’ “Anything?” you nodded, too lost in that sickening pleasure your body succumbed to even notice the subtle change in her gaze. “Okay, then don’t regret it later…”

And then she was gone, leaving you completely alone in her bed as she stood up, looking for something before she would come back to you. Your half-lided eyes could get a glance of what she was holding in between her wet fingers: a dildo. On her left hand stood a magic wand.

You moaned when her lips found yours, teeth clashing and tongues brushing each other as she sucked on your bottom lip. “If you’re so desperate…, why don’t you show me how much you want it?” she said once she had pulled away, tongue outlining her swollen lips as her hand —the one that held the toy— rose up to your eyes, you whined when you understood what she was doing; swapping places.

“Ellie…” you whimpered, your cries being shut out when— after having left the wand aside— her hand cupped your face, making your lips pout out a little bit, brushing against her own.

“Come on, you said you’d do anything.“ she was smirking when her thumb pressed against your bottom lip, dragging it downwards and then sticking her thumb in your mouth. “Good girls get to cum, and maybe, if you put up a good show for me… I’ll fuck your just how you need it, hm?” she clicked her tongue when you nodded, tongue swirling around her finger. “Then go ahead, let me see you use the toy, sweetheart.”

She leaned backwards, letting you have your own space as she handed you the dildo. It was heavy in your hands, and pink, with just the perfect girth and length —there’s no need to say that Ellie’s strap was bigger in both ways, and much more beautiful…— with even veins on its sides.

Her eyes never left you as you neared it to your gushing cunt, letting your soaked lips surround it to lube it up. You sighed at the feeling of its tip pushing against your clit, using its head to tease yourself up and down, sometimes slightly pushing around your hole. “Yeah, that’s right. Touch yourself for me… That’s a good girl.” you moaned as you saw her hand reach in between her folds, sliding up and down, slowly, as she observed you. It only made you want her more. Your back arched as you slowly pushed it inside you, eyes falling shut when you felt the burning stretch, gasping for air when you finally bottomed out with a raspy moan. “Fuck, baby, just like that… So pretty.” her praising made your walls clench around the silicone as you slowly started to fuck yourself with it. “Look at you…” she chuckled when you started to pick up the pace. “Needy, honey?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you hit that hidden spot, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip when a scream tried to leave your chest. “Don’t silence yourself, baby. Let me hear you.” her hand matched your pace, fucking herself on her fingers, a groan leaving her lips at the sight of the toy disappearing in between your sticky folds.

“Ellie, fuck, please, need you so bad, need your cock Ellie, shit…”

“Fuck, you’re such a fucking slut…” she moaned, getting on top of your body once again, her soaked toys meeting your hand at the base of the toy to harshly push it inside of you, making you scream. “You like that, hm? Like fucking yourself while I watch, yeah? Fucking whore, you love the attention, don’t you?” you were a babbling mess, drooling all over the sheets as the tip of the toy mercilessly pushed against your g spot, making you see stars behind your close eyes. “You want my cock, hm? Want my cock, sweetheart?”

“Yes please, Ellie, pleasepleaseplease, fuck me please…” your hips were bucking against her hand, begging for more. And just like that she left you there, touching yourself as you watched her put on her strap, clicking it close around her hips. You were burning up, craving her in ways you’ve never craved anyone before. Craving for her to use you, destroy you. You moaned when the top of her cock pressed against your clit, making your head spin as she continued to pound inside of you with the dildo before pulling it out with a squelch, you moaned when you felt her align the strap with your hole. “Need it so bad…Then take it, take my cock, baby.” You hands quickly came up to her shoulders, finding leverage and moaning when the tip went in, tears pricking at your eyes when you felt her start to push inside of you. Finally. You were so painfully full and stretched that your nails dug on her shoulder, making her moan against your neck. It was always a stretch. So fucking big… “Fuck. So tight. Shit. Fuck, I love you.” he said, kissing your lips. “I love you so much…” you both moaned in each other’s mouth as her hips pushed further, slowly bottoming out and gasping when she was completely in, the back of the strap brushing against her clit. “What a good girl…” you whimpered on her hands as she praised you. “So tight for me.” your back arched when she started to move. It was slow at first, trying to get you accustomed to the feeling while making your mind drift off from the slight pain to the stimulation of your clit and nipples —which she sucked and bit down onto—.

“Shit, Ellie…” she smirked when your frown smoothed out, mouth falling open when she hit your g spot, legs surrounding her hips and fingers digging in her messy and silky hair. “Just like that, don’t stop, please…”

“Look at you… You love the feeling of my cock inside you, don’t you? Filling you up so good you can’t even breath, hm? What a whore…” you moaned, exposing your neck to her lips.

“Ellie!” you screamed when her thrusts became harder, relentless and merciless, hands tugging on your nipples.

“Do you feel it baby? Feel your pussy all stretched out for me?” she almost came in the spot when her eyes connected with the bulge on your stomach. “Fuck, look at that. So full of me…” you didn’t mean to, but you were cumming all over her cock when her fingers pushed against it, making a scream rip out your throat as your walls clenched around the strap. Everything was white and the world went absolutely quiet as you dissolved in her arms, unable to even breath at the intensity of your orgasm. “Shit, that was so fucking hot…” her hips stuttered when your walls fluttered around her. “Don’t clench on me that hard baby, feels like you are trying to milk my cock dry…” she chuckled just to curse moments after.

You were drooling on your shoulder as she thrusted inside of you. You were feeling so good…

Ellie started to fuck your brains out of you, hands on your hips as she slightly sat up, bringing you down on her cock with each new thrust. “Ellie, shit, so good…, fuck, daddy, more!” she moaned, the muscles below the skin of his arms flexing as he pushed you harshly down on her dick, making the tip torture that spot that always made you cum in a matter of seconds. “Fuck, I’m gonna— I’m gonna…”

“Hold it.” she ordered, one of her hands leaving your skin to get a hold on the magic wand, turning it on and putting it against your throbbing and swollen clit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched. “That’s it. Feels good doesn’t it?” she smirked. You couldn’t speak, dirty moans leaving your lips as you felt your high increase. She could tell by the way you clenched around the silicone and your thighs shook. “Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock. Want to see it drip down your thighs.”

“Shit, Ellie, fuck I’m coming!” you screamed when you felt your climax wash over you, making your body go rigid just to go limp after a couple of seconds.

Ellie continued to fuck you through it, cursing at the tightness of your soaked and swollen cunt. Fuck, she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t get enough.

“Ellie, ‘s too— too much, fuck, I’m gonna cum again!” new tears travelled down your cheeks at the constant stimulation, vibrations never stoping overstimulating your clit and dick harshly fucking into you, your nails dug on her back, drawing blood as you gushed all over her cock, squirting so hard you dampened your thighs and the sheets below you. “Ellie, s-stop…” you stuttered. You were crying so hard, unable to stop squirting at her constant fucking, unable to form an actual goddamn sentence, babbling in between sobs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Ellie couldn’t stop her hips, fucking you so good you swore you were fucking dying. The feeling of the strap stimulating her clit and seeing you fall apart below her was like stepping in heaven, the dirty wet sounds of her cock pounding into you and the splashing of your juices making her lose his mind. “I’m gonna cum, shit!” she moaned when she spilled against the back of the strap and harshly pumping inside your abused walls, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Fuck, baby, so good…” she muttered against your neck as she fucked herself down her climax, hips stopping while she was still buried deep inside of you, putting away the wand as her arms failed to keep her up right, making her fall on top of you.

The two of you tried to pace out your breathing, you moaning when little pecks were given to your neck, chest and shoulder before her lips found yours, tongue entering your mouth in a lazy kiss. You fingers lazed on her locks, pulling and playing with her hair as her teeth slightly bit down on your jaw, and then your neck, and your collarbones, and your chest, and…

You hissed when she pulled out of you, cum dripping and meeting your juices on the sheets as her lips trailed down your stomach.

“Hurts?” she questioned, to what you nodded, making a slow smirk appear on his face. “Want me to kiss it better?” you let out a little gasp when she nibbled on your hip bone, lips extremely close to your heat.

She took the tugging on her hair as a ‘yes’, positioning herself better and raising your legs up on her shoulders as she left open mouth kisses on your inner thighs, little sighs leaving your lips as she neared closed and closer… “Poor baby, fucked so good it’s all sore and swollen now.” You moaned when she finally got lost in between your thighs, humming at the taste of your cum dripping out of your cunt. Your head fell backwards as you gave into the pleasure, into her lips, into her name and fingers.

Into her sick love. Into Ellie Williams.

a/n; hope this gets love this time.

#ellie williams x you #ellie smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #tlou ellie #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams fluff

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goldhoekin · 8 months

Text

Use Me or Lose Me || Jordan Li

Use Me or Lose Me || Jordan Li x Fem!Reader

summary: After Marie becomes #2 and Brink is killed by Luke Jordan slips in the rankings. They begin to obsess over the rankings neglecting their girlfriend who lets their frustration slips and Jordan takes their frustrations out on their girlfriend.

cw: fem!reader, porn with some plot, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, oral sex (m! & f! receiving), blowjob, overstimulation, ripping of clothes, biting/marking, dacryphilia, degradation, chocking

Words:1.8k

“I can’t fucking believe I’m still number 5. Fucking FIVE babe!” Jordan growls from their spot on their bed, you sigh quietly as you enter the room fully. You’d JUST walked into your partner’s dorm before you were bombarded with Jordan’s endless string of complaints about their place in the rankings. You knew that it bothered them to slip from #3 to #5 after the death of Brink but for FUCKS sake, Luke JUST DIED. You knew that Brink’s death was effecting Jordan as well ( you personally couldn’t give a flying fuck about that creepy fuck, and he held the same contempt as you because he thought you weren’t good enough for Jordan) but this is getting ridiculous. You’d been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice you’d said it aloud.

“This-this ridiculous?” Jordan says back, their brown eyes flashing from hurt to anger. You yourself feel a flash of regret before you again become angry.

“Yes Jordan, this is getting fucking ridiculous, it’s not that freshmen’s fault she was pushed. I’ve heard her thoughts-trust me she needs to do well so let her have this. Andre, is Andre. He’s a grand poobah nepo baby, there’s not much you can do there but what you CAN do is work out your anger and stop ignoring your fucking girlfriend! You will get your just do, baby I promise you but PLEASE keep sight of what’s currently in front of you before it's not here anymore.” You say, your words falling from your lips before you could stop them, Jordan freezes in place.

Before you can even blink Jordan has you held against a wooden door, your hands on their broad shoulders and their hands on your face to kiss yours with a bruising force. Your legs wrapped around their waist as they roughly invade your mouth, a deep groan escapes their lips as they make their way down the column of your neck. You feel their hands ripping your shirt open, leaving a trail or open mouth kisses down your body.

Moans escape your lips and you feel yourself being unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. Hands running through Jordan's hair, they shift forms and you feel their hands go from large and callous to soft and small. The delicate digits ghosting their hands down your supple body, their tongue following the trail. A rough bite to your breasts causes a breathy gasp to leave your lips, a slender hand sliding into your panties and finding your sopping wet cunt.

Without warning you feel their fingers enter you roughly, two a time. A punishing pace set as Jordan finger fucks you closer and closer to completion. You somehow manage to remove all of your clothing, Jordan paying your antics no mind until they feel your dripping wet pussy clenching their fingers as you nearly reach your peak. They promptly withdraw their fingers from you.

"What—what the fuck are you doing Jor. I was so close, baby please!" You whine, your thighs rubbing together to get some sort of friction as you look at your partner’s wickedly smirking face. Jordan's form changes yet again to their male form, their cock looking painfully hard.

"OH baby did you think I would let you come so easily after what the fuck you said to me? Oh no babygirl you won't get to come until I say so…and if you don't behave and come anyways then I fuck you until there's tears streaming down your face for being fucked so good!" Jordan says, claiming your mouth again, the tip of their cock rubbing against your aching pussy.

Without warning they plunge their length into you, a deep moan leaving their beautiful lips as you feel Jordan set a brutal pace. Their hands bruising your hips as they fuck you into the mattress, your breasts bouncing wildly with the force of their thrusts. Suddenly you feel yourself getting flipped onto your stomach, face pressed down into the mattress, your ass in the air and Jordan never leaving your cunt. Their thrusts somehow get faster, harder.

Your hand tries to sneakily reach down to rub your clit, desperate for release. Jordan had unfortunately caught you and brought both of your hands tightly behind your back, one of their hands tightly grips them. The other hand roughly slaps your ass, "I told you baby girl. You cum when I say you can fucking cum, not before. Do. You. Understand?" Jordan growls, each word punctuated with a harsh thrust.

You whimper in response to their harsh treatment of you, and as fucked up as it seems. You actually fucking love it, it feels so good to be tossed like a ragdoll by Jordan. Them working their frustration out on you and finally paying attention to you since Marie got to Godolkin. You can feel their mouth nipping and biting any skin they can get to, leaving deep love marks and the like unto your skin. You can feel them gripping your wrists tighter and you feel the knot in your stomach so close to unraveling and you know Jordan can feel you tightening up around them.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum, do you understand me?” They whisper in your ear, nipping as they do so.

“I𑁋i’m trying but I don’t think I can Jordan. Please baby, let me cum!” You whine out, desperate for release.

A dark chuckle leaves their throat, their thrusts getting sloppy as they piston in and out of your weeping cunt. Their thrusts stop as they fill up to the brim with their hot cum and a deep groan leaves their lips as they fuck you through their orgasm. At the last second where you feel your own climax about to topple over the edge the cock is gone and Jordan’s large hands become delicate again. They fucking changed forms again and tears begin to fall down your face as you realize you didn’t get to cum. You feel their supple hand grip your face harshly, “What’s wrong baby? I did warn you didn’t I? Not until I tell you to cum to you cum Angel.”

They kiss away your tears, move their way to the top of the bed, lovely legs spread open and their cunt glistening in the cheap fluorescent lighting, they look you in the eye, “What are you waiting for? Get to work babygirl, you get me to cum again and I may think about returning the favor.”

Without hesitation you lunge into Jordan’s cunt and begin lapping at your pussy with a vengeance, like a woman starved to get them to cum as soon as superhumanly possible. Your fingers rubbing their clit furiously, one hand gripping their left thigh in a vice grip, leaving crescent shaped marks on their thigh. A hand roughly pushes down your head, which causes your tongue to plunge into Jordan’s cunt.

You move your tongue at a steady pace, adding two fingers that you curl periodically inside Jordan, their cunt tightening around your digits. Their legs wrap around your head tightly as they reach their peak, a high pitched scream leaves their mouth as they cum again, legs shaking as they come down from their high. Sweat coats their skin as they struggle to catch their breath, “Fuck babygirl…I guess since you did so good I’ll give you what you want. How do you want me?”

You feel your heart soar, you’d been rubbing your thighs together to gain any sort of relief, any sort of friction to get yourself off. “I-i need you to fuck dick me down, real good and real hard. Punish me anyway please Jordan please!”

A smile graces their face as they switch forms again, they hold their cock in their hands, “Well I’m gonna need some assistance Angel…” You eagerly take their cock into your mouth, licking and sucking them until they get erect again, you remove your mouth from their cock, a string of saliva connecting the two.

“You look so fucking good like this, I can’t believe you’re all mine.” Jordan says as they move into position behind you, rubbing the tip of their cock between your throbbing pussy lips. Ever so slowly they slide their cock into you inch by inch, Jordan holds your hips in place as you try to push back into them. Once they fill you to the hilt they immediately pull almost all the way out only to roughly slam back into you.

They set a brutal pace, holding your head down by your neck to brace themself as they roughly fuck you into oblivion. You feel your orgasm building up again so fast, you are so close and Use Me or Lose Me || Jordan Like a dam overflowing you feel yourself practically dissolving around Jordan.

You feel a gush of liquid escaping from your cunt, your legs giving up on you as you struggle to hold yourself up. Jordan doesn’t stop though, they continue fucking you through your orgasm, you feel yourself getting over stimulated and you try to wiggle away from Jordan but they hold you in place.

They slap your ass roughly and repeatedly, rubbing soothing circles onto your stinging flesh. Tears fall down your face as you look back at Jordan pleadingly but at the sight of your tears they laugh. “Look at you being a crybaby about getting dicked down like you wanted. You wanted me to treat you like the needly little whore you are and now you’re whining about getting what you begged for? You’re pathetic baby girl!”

They fuck you through yet another orgasm, whimpers spilling from your lips as you feel yourself cum again spasming around Jordan’s cock as they give you no time to rest. They rub your clit as you cry out again and again, relishing the feeling of you squeezing the life out of their cock, you feel their hand gripping your throat. They tighten it around your neck cutting off your air supply, a rough kiss applied to you lips, their thrusting never ceasing their pace in the slightest. You feel them throbbing close to yet another release, just as they release your neck to fill you up yet again do you feel their teeth bite deep into your flesh.

As you take in gasping breath they lick at the wound on your neck, gripping your body as they slump onto you, not pulling themselves from your heat. They hold onto you and whisper into your ear, “I’m sorry about being an asshole, but just know I won’t just let you walk out on me without a fight Angel.”

They nuzzle your neck and your eyes grow heavy and the ghost of a smile is on your lips, at least they paid me some fucking attention.

#gen v #gen v smut #gen v x reader #gen v imagine #gen v amazon #jordan li #jordan li smut

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targaryenluvs · 6 months

Text

VICTORS SPOILS

pairings: dark!finnick odair x fem!capitol!reader

warnings: obsession, following/stalking, creepy behaviour, naive/younger reader, age gap, (reader is 19 and finnick's around 25), non-con touching and kissing, manipulation, bj mentions/insinuations, sex mentions, prostitution mentions, finnick lowkey preying on you - descriptions of brown reader (i was self indulgent since i’m indian 😁) condescending/nit picking mother and pushy parents!

summary: a victor should be celebrated! a victor should get what ever they wish, even if it’s a sweet capitol girl who misplaced her kindness in someone who was in desperate need of reprieve and distraction.

a/n: ITS MY BIRTHDAY!!! HERES A GIFT FROM ME TO YOU ❤️GUESS WHO MADE HER OWN LITTLE HEADER GAHH!! i tried my bestttt - ive been away for a littleeee!! sorry babes <33 it was like 3am and i cooked this up in my head before opening my brewing pot (notes app) and jotting it down - NOT PROOFREAD

the hall was so loud.

they always were at capitol parties. your mother and father always dragged you along, stating that a young lady should be getting out, meeting people, friends, becoming well versed and established in the capitol. and that they wouldn’t always be here. “you need to learn to be alone, fend for yourself and stand your ground. how are you gonna do that if you’re always trying to keep to yourself dear?” your mother sweetly smiled as she looked over you, “i think you still have time to change that dress, not the most flattering sweetie.”

you scoffed as she walked away ever so elegantly. you looked over yourself in the mirror, the green dress was gorgeous, to you at least. but the blue dress your mother had chosen was breath-taking, as much as you hated to agree with her opinion. so you bit your tongue and put the chosen dress on.

mother knows best right?

the sun was setting with an especially beautiful array of colours to which you figured no one would really notice you were gone if they were all focused on something else. there was probably a screen upstairs which you could watch something on. a few things to eat and drink then you’d head up there.

finnick was glancing over to you the whole night. you’d worn blue, and he’d taken it as an ode to him. you hadn’t looked over at him yet but your leaving of the party seemed like an invitation to him to finally introduce himself.

as you settled down on the plush couch you felt all your tensions melt away. but finnick wouldn’t leave you alone for long. “i’m sorry i didn’t know this was occupied.” finnick looked sad and you had no clue why, so being as nice as you are had you opening the room in invitation to him. “no, no! i just wanted to get away from the party. you’re welcome to sit with me finnick.” it felt odd to you for some reason, calling him by his name as if he was a friend. you’d only ever seen him through screens and from afar yet he looked as amazing as always.

“are you sure?” you nodded and smiled, moving down the couch to make room for him. he sat down, respectful of your space. he looked drained and you felt the same way. “tired of the party?” you asked as he smiled and nodded, “a lot of people asking a lot of questions.” you spoke, “everyone has something to say or ask. my dad told me he got three men asking for my hand. we haven’t even been here for two hours. it’s like being in a room with vultures. and if i do accept i’ll just be, nothing. someone stuck to the side of some ugly guy who just wants a pretty face.” you didn’t know what it was about him but you felt as if you could tell him anything.

and he sat, and listened. nodding his head and adding it where appropriate. it felt, nice. having someone actually listen to what you said rather than just asking what you were wearing. he was nothing like what you expected. you’d heard the whispers. that he was a playboy, he was with and had been with multiple women and men over the years. and that he liked it, the gifts, the people, the uhm, other aspects.

“but you, i’m sure you have people to meet, scope out.” you wanted to curl up and die as soon as the words left your mouth. “no! oh my god, i do not mean it like that. you- i- you should not feel ashamed of what you like. i am so sorry- i didn’t mean to imply-” god would you stop droning on? finnick pressed his lips into a thin line, “hey it’s okay. you’re fine. in all honestly, i know everyone has mis-conceptions of me.” you took his place in attentive listening as he explained the truth.

the threats, the people pawing at him, him being sold from fourteen.

you were crying. it all sounded unbelievable and unbearable for someone to go through at such a young age, his life was ruined all because he was pretty, desirable. no child should even have to think of such things let alone experience them. and rather than you comforting him, he was sitting with his arms around you. he was too good to be true.

“i- no i’m so sorry that happened to you finnick. i had no clue, no one does. you are such an amazing person, from the little time i’ve known you. you don’t deserve any of this. how could you get away from this? we could- we could expose snow we could-” finnick cut you off with teary eyes, “there’s nothing we can do. trust me, if there was i would have tried. but i think, if i got married perhaps. i’d have a reason to stay away from the captiol. we’d live in district four, in peace.”

the idea was pretty decent, you’d give him that. and you couldn’t help your heart running a little faster at the prospect of potentially marrying him. you were already fast friends, at least you’d marry a friend? even if he potentially loved someone else or you loved another.

“what if- if you married me?”

he’d hoped you’d say that.

“you’d do that for me? seriously?” finnick faked shock as you nodded, “we’re friends, i’d much rather marry you than anyone else here to be honest. we could be happy.” you smiled as he wiped away his last tear. “y/n, that’s an amazing idea.”

your wedding was marvellous.

your parents pushed out buck after buck, no expense spared for their little girl. as if they actually cared for you. your wedding dress was white and pristine, courtesy of snow. your brown hair in curls and your brown skin glistening. but you added blue accents for finnick, or you thought you did. it’s not like he pushed for you to wear the things he bought by incessantly reminding the makeup artists and helpers that you were marrying the finnick odair, his wife deserved nothing but the best.

you stood infront of a friend, smiling, happy to be marrying a kind soul.

he stood in front of the object of his affection, his desire and love.

in the first few weeks you were undeniably happy, finnick was as sweet as ever and respected you. it was your best outcome. but overtime you seemed to notice changes in his behaviour. when you’d want to go out into town for dinner he’d always have an excuse up his sleeve.

“there’s roadworks towards your favourite restaurant honey. maybe another time?”

“apparently they’re all booked out, maybe in a few weeks time?”

“wouldn’t you rather have a home-cooked meal? i made your favourite sweetheart.”

it began to annoy after the sixth time. “it can’t always be busy can it? we use to go all the time, and it’s not like they’d refuse you finnick. what’s going on?”

“i give you everything you could ever want. why the hell do you want to go out so much? am i not enough? are you- are you seeing someone?” finnick slumped in his seat.

your eyes widened as you rushed over to him, settling on your knees as your hands were placed on his thighs, “finnick how could you say such a thing? i would never do that to you. i swear there’s nothing going on, i just, i’m bored. i’d like to go out with you, explore your district with you, meet new people with you.” finnicks eyes burnt into yours. this is certainly not how he first wanted to see you on your knees, but at least you were whining.

“yeah? you like me? you promise there’s nothing going on?” you nodded dumbly, “yes yes! nothing i promise.” finnick looked down at your hands in his lap, “how do i know you’re not lying?” your hands were on his knees as you straightened your back, coming closer to his eye level, “i promise finnick. you are my husband, i’m with you. i’ll do anything to prove it to you.”

finnick was fighting off every muscle in his cheeks to not start grinning whilst the sad look on his face was breaking your heart, “yeah? anything?” oh this was going to be good. your cheeks were flushed as you heard the words come of out his mouth, “undo my belt sweetheart, show me how much you mean it.” wavering hands hovered over his belt buckle as finnick relaxed into his seat, it couldn’t get better than this right?

wrong.

every time you asked to go out, to meet a friend, to go to the capitol he’d always sulk. and the night would end with you on your knees, him on his to make you forget, or the two of you tangled in sheets.

finnick was finally happy, he had the girl of his dreams after such a long period of sadness, of exploitation and terror. fake smiles and lingering eyes.

he finally got something out of the games.

and his gift?

the victors spoils.

#dark!finnick odair x reader #dark!finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair x fem!reader #hunger games x reader

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airaibunny · 4 months

Text

momo x reader - “it’s you” (warnings: smut[dom reader], angst with happy ending, sexual boundaries being pushed, crying, self deprecation, fingering, oral, heavy jealousy, spanking, cursing, degradation, slight praise, i feel like i’m forgetting something else…)

a/n: req!(“I’m obsessed with concept of being friends with benefits where the reader or member secretly has feelings for the other and gets jealous. If you could, could you do another friends w/ benefits but with Momo?”)okay, idk how this turned into angst like literally i went into it just wanting to make it rough sex. i rolled with it though, if it sucks pls tell me to stfu and stick to smut. hope you like this train wreck, mind you this was entirely written in 2 hours on a plane so like🙏

HEAVY HEAVY CONTENT WARNING, TAKE THE TAGS VERY SERIOUSLY PLEASE

word count: 2.3k

low moans fill your dorm room as the sweat makes your hair stick to your forehead. with your face between her thighs, momo’s sickeningly sweet scent engulfs your nose. you praise her every sound, “just like that, you sound so pretty,” you coo, “you’re doing so well for me.”

her release comes with a gasp and you greedily lap up everything spilling out of her. your tongue glides up and down her folds, devoted to letting her completely give out.

you come up, wiping your mouth with your fingers and licking her off of them. “you were wonderful as always.”

“hm.” she’s still not thinking clearly, her attempt at a response coming out as a moan. you laugh and get up to find your clothes.

“are you leaving?” she sits up in bed, wiping her hair out of her face. “we’ve been in here too long, they’re going to wonder what we’re doing.” she flops back down. “i’ll be out there in a few.”

after you put all your clothes on, you walk to the door. your hand lays on the doorknob motionless for a few seconds, deciding on whether it should turn it or not.

if you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t want to leave.

momo completely consumes every one of your thoughts. there’s not a single event in your day that you don’t connect to her. you can’t wait for the one or two hours a day you get to have her all to yourself, even if she just sees it as sex. when you’re with her, you swear the world outside could end and you wouldn’t notice. she has become your everything, but you’re not the same to her.

to her, you’re just a friend she casually fucks. nothing more, nothing less. of course you feel incredibly lucky that you at least get to have this, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t yearn for more.

you want to tell everyone she’s yours and only yours, on all fronts.

but you can’t just bring it up to her, you would never be able to move on if she rejected you. even on days when she’s especially clingy and really makes you think she wants the same thing, you still tell yourself you’re over-analyzing.

“did you freeze?” she asks from behind you. you push the door and walk out, not making eye contact with her.

you start making your way to the kitchen to drink water and run into dahyun on the way there. “do you know if momo is in her room?” “she is.”

she walks away, but turns around again before leaving. “is she alone?”

‘why do you care?’

you think to yourself, of course you don’t respond with that, but it takes a great deal of self control not to.

“yes, she is.” you give her a fake smile and continue on your way to the kitchen.

“you’re so great at hiding when you’re angry.” mina teases as soon as she sees you. you roll your eyes at her and grab a glass of water. “were you with her just now?”

mina is the only person you’ve told about you and momo, your feelings for her included. it’s not that you don’t trust your other members; you just trust mina the most. with the others, there’s always a possibility that they might let it slip when they don’t mean to, but you know mina it’s ditzy enough to do that.

“yes.” you take a sip of your water and look down, trying to avoid mina’s gaze. “i’m tired of speaking to you about this, you know you’ll have to confess eventually. you’re destroying yourself, y/n.” she might not be telling anyone, but she sure as hell loves to hammer you about it.

“i know,” you sigh, “but how?” she walks beside you and pulls you into a hug. “you know what i have to say to that.” “yeah, yeah, whatever ‘it doesn’t matter how.’” she’s right, you’re very aware of that, but can’t bring yourself to do it.

“i’m going with everyone else, you coming?” you tell her you’ll be there shortly and let her leave. you stay sitting and contemplating your situation for a few more minutes until you decide to join your fellow members.

as soon as you walk into the living room your eyes dart towards momo, curled up next to dahyun. it instantly makes you see red, and very noticeably apparently because mina shoots you a knowing look.

you sit right across from them, glaring at them. you grit your teeth every time dahyun rubs momo’s leg or turns to whisper in her ear. you know that you all have a very close bond, and this is by no means out of the ordinary, but you can’t handle it when it involves with momo.

you also know she’s allowed to be with other people if so she desires, but if that’s what’s happening, is she really that shameless?

“y/n!?” jihyo yells beside you and you jump. “are you listening or just sitting there?” you are, in fact, not listening, too focused on the two people in front of you.

“sorry, i’m listening.”

“so what do you think?” you stare at her in confusion and your lie becomes evident. “ugh, never mind. i was saying that…” you tune her out again as you watch momo toss her head back in laughter at something dahyun said.

nothing could possibly be that fucking funny.

an hour passes of the same thing; momo and dahyun’s antics being met with your cold stare. that’s why you don’t waste a second when momo gets up and heads to the bathroom.

you make sure nobody can see down the hallway and follow her. she almost shuts the door, but you push it pack and step inside with her.

“oh sorry, i didn’t notice you.” she says, a fake pout on her lips.

“save it.” you walk closer to her, pushing her back until her ass hits the counter. “do you get off by being a slut on display, huh? does having people watch you be a whore turn you on?”

she smirks at you, acting like she’s completely unaware of what you’re saying. you see right through her, her rosy cheeks and labored breathing tell you she’s already dripping.

“what do you mean, are you jealous because of dahyun? do you not like seeing her touch me?” she gets really close, you can feel her breath on your neck.

fuck, even if you can tell what she’s doing, she knows how to push your buttons.

you grab her waist and turn her around, slamming her hips against the counter. she lets out a whine, but you’re too deep in your head to worry about whether it was in pain or pleasure.

“me, jealous?” you laugh, holding her in place, bent over the counter for you. “i just feel so bad for you. are you really that desperate? one girl isn’t enough, you need two?”

you rip off her shorts and panties, delighting in their soaked state. as soon as her ass is exposed, you land a hard hit on it. her back arches and you spank her again, harder. she whimpers with each slap and you can see her pussy growing wetter.

“that gets you really excited, look at that.” you dip your fingers between her folds, a silky string of her glistening slick attached to them when you take them off.

you grab her wrists behind her back, pulling her up by her hair at the same time. you think maybe you’re being a little too rough for a second, but your jealousy completely blinds you.

you shove her once again, against the door this time. you angrily let go of her hair and your hand flys to her ass, spanking her again. your own pussy throbs when you can perfectly make out your hand print on it.

“ow, y/n…” a tears rolls down her cheek and you chuckle at her. “oh c’mon, i thought you liked being treated like a bitch.”

another tear comes, then another. you’d normally ask her if she was alright, but you’re truly not yourself in this moment. seeing her so close with dahyun awakened something you didn’t know you had in you.

you fingers dive right into her entrance without teasing or warning, making her cry out.

“y/n, that hurts!”

her tears don’t stop. you’ve never been this way with her, but now you’re thinking you should’ve done this sooner. she looks absolutely stunning breaking down for you.

“crocodile tears, you know you love this.” she sobs, whining every time your fingers harshly re-enter her.

“they’re not, please…”

you hear her, but you don’t process what she’s saying. “oh shut the fuck up, whore.” another slap on her ass, right on top of the red handprint from before.

“stop, please, stop!”

only when she’s repeatedly begging you to stop do you remove your fingers and ease up, realizing you were basically cutting off her breathing with how hard you were pressing her against the door.

her legs immediately give out on her and she nearly falls to the ground, but you catch her before she does so.

you’re still in shock at what you just did, muttering countless apologies to her. she doesn’t react, just cries.

you hurriedly put her clothes back on and lead her to her bedroom, looking down the hallway to make sure none of the other girls can see you.

you lock the door when you step inside and carry her to the bed. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” your own tears form in your eyes, you feel like a monster. why are you crying? you’re the one who did this to her. if you love her so much, why’d you do this?

“momo, i’m sorry.” her sobs keep coming, each one deepening your wound even more.

“why were you like that?” she asks, wiping some of the still cascading tears from her face. you stay silent, too ashamed to give her an honest reply. “i don’t deserve an answer?”

“i went too far, i’m sorry.” you turn away, not wanting her to see your tears. she pulls your shoulder and makes you face her. “but why?” your heart breaks as you get a good look at her beautiful eyes completely bloodshot, and her rosy cheeks red and sticky with tears.

“because i’m a fucking idiot, and i kept things in for too long, and i just let them all pour out in the worst way possible. i’m sorry momo, i’m so, so sorry.” you break down, sobbing just as hard as she is. “i’ve,” you think about your next words very carefully, “i’ve loved you for so long, momo. i didn’t know how to say it. my incompetence just ended up hurting you, i’m so sorry.”

you feel even worse as her hand trembles on your cheek, wiping away the tears. you take it into your own, turning your face to kiss it.

“you’re not incompetent,” you cut her off. “no, don’t console me, i’m not the one in need of that.” she moves closer to you, settling in on your shoulder and grabbing both of your hands in hers. you can still see the tears falling from her eyes and onto her lap, only serving to make your own sorrows multiply.

“i haven’t been the brightest either.” you turn your face to look at her and she does the same. “asking you to just have sex with me seemed easier than asking you to be my girlfriend.”

you’re in utter shock for a few seconds, her sentence hitting you like a train.

all of this performing and going around in circles you’ve been doing for so long because you thought she didn’t feel the same way, you could’ve skipped all of that?

you should be ecstatic about this, but you won’t let yourself. you hurt her, you hurt her really bad. how could she ever forgive you?

“i’m so sorry i didn’t say anything sooner.” she starts audibly crying again and buries her head into your neck. you lift her face up, holding it in your hands. “why are you apologizing? don’t do that, please, don’t apologize to me for anything.”

for the first time in however many months this has been happening, she crashes her lips into yours. kissing always felt like a thing for couples in a weird way, which you both stressed you weren’t.

“momo…” she closes the distant between you two again, making your lips connect. you don’t try pulling away this time, you let her take the lead. the kiss is deep and passionate, perfectly matched to her lips. right now, her lips feel infinitely better on your own than they do anywhere else on your body. she’s heavenly; too good for you.

“momo, i’m so sorry.”

“i forgive you, y/n, i’ll always forgive you.”

more tears spill out of your eyes, how could she forgive you? “you can’t do that.”

her own tears still stain her face as she grabs your shirt into a fist, making you foreheads touch. “you do not get decide that for me.” she pauses to kiss you again. “i want you, i want you so bad, and you’re not going to pull away now that i know you feel the same way.” she sniffles, looking into your eyes while coming up with her next words.

“please don’t pull away.” you take her into your arms, you both still gasping for air from crying.

“i won’t.”

you wipe the hair from her face, wanting to admire every little detail.

“i love you so much, i’ll never make you feel like that again, i promise.”

she looks at you with pure admiration in her eyes.

“i love you too, and i believe you.”

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rztaros · 3 months

Text

: nobody knows

synopsis. while everyone thought you and clarisse were rivals, behind closed doors, you two were utterly in love with each other. pairing. clarisse la rue x fem!r genre. fluff wc. 880 now playing. nobody knows by kiss of life . . . 💿 notes. 💬 lowercase intended + downbad clarisse 🙏🏼

how to help the palestinians. brands to boycott support the people of palestine w/ shams akel moveon petition to pres. biden donate esims to gaza click to help palestine masterlist donations, petitions, campaigns, && upcoming protests staying silent or staying "neutral" in this ongoing genocide is just as bad as standing with the oppressor.

"you act as if you're obsessed with me, clar," you'd point out, rolling your eyes playfully at her.

the dim lighting of the empty corridor only did justice to clarisse as her features glowed, and all you could focus on was the way her lips curled into a wide grin.

"i am though," the daughter of ares would grin, not a single hint of embarrassment evident in her voice, as her hands moved to your sides, her thumbs drawing small circles on your torso.

you thought it was truly odd how you'd end up with clarisse as your girlfriend, as she was supposedly your rival as well. though, she was a sweetheart of a girlfriend—always so caring and attentive when it came to you.

"i think about you all day, y'know." it was a whisper, yet it was loud as her words resonated through your chest, sending chills down your spine.

she'd bend down, leaning closer to you, as your back was plastered against the cold, wooden wall, yet the room had become warm and fuzzy as you came eye to eye with clarisse.

her arms still remained firm around your waist, as she'd whisper in your ear, "you must think about me all day too, don't you?"

out of the many, many rules that you imposed upon yourself, with one written in bold, and drilled into your mind—never talk to clarisse la rue. everyone told you her tendency to be relentlessly harsh to most people, but you never listened, as you were too blinded by her beauty. and you couldn't help your weak heart either, especially when clarisse stood in front of you, her smile all sweet as if it was an invitation to kiss her.

and so, it started—sneaking out of your cabin unethically when the sky immediately turned into a dark, midnight blue hue, just to meet the daughter of ares. you knew you could get into trouble, but you never felt a tinge of guilt.

with your hands wrapped around her neck almost instinctively, you’d tease, "maybe on a good day, i do think about you."

clarisse would groan, "just on a good day? c'mon, it has to be every day," her eyes were etched on your lips, and you couldn't help but swoon. your lips would fall open, as her tongue darted out swiftly.

her hands would grasp your hips firmly, and at that moment, she wished she could see you more—she wished you could be with her all day, never leaving her side.

clarisse never knew how you two happened—maybe it was just curiosity, or the fact that you were so appealing to her, she couldn't resist you at all.

"clarisse," you'd whine, as your palms were placed against her chest to push her away lightly. you'd glance around to see if anyone was awake watching.

"just clarisse?" she'd cock her head to the side dramatically, as if she was truly hurt by your gesture, "we're alone, and you're just calling me clarisse? you truly wound me, princess." clarisse would flash a cocky, mischievous smirk at the way you'd roll your eyes at her antics.

"however, you could always kiss it better," clarisse would propose, giving you teasing glances, as she waited for you to initiate the kiss. it was times like these you found yourself cursing clarisse la rue and her charm that left you wanting more. you knew she was playing with you, yet you couldn't seem to do anything but stare at her velvety lips with burning ears.

"i promise i don't bite, sweetheart," the curly-haired girl would coax, her breath hitting your lips. the way the pet name rolled off her tongue so smoothly and sounded so dulcet just had you on the edge.

"we shouldn't be doing this," you'd murmur, though your actions contradicted your protests, as you'd close the gap between her lips and yours, pure ecstasy running through your veins.

clarisse would pull away slightly, "everyone's asleep, we'll be fine," she'd gently tuck your hair behind your ear, her thumbs drawing patterns on your knuckles ever-so-softly.

"clar—" and she doesn't let you say much, easily cutting you off with a chaste kiss to the lips. sure, most of the time, it wasn't like she was responsible one in your guys' relationship, but it wasn't like you were any better with the way you'd plant kisses all over her cheek with your hands lost in her locks.

and so, you and clarisse would remain stagnant in your positions, not moving an inch—her arms snaked around your waist, pulling you towards her body to close any possible distance between the two of you.

as much as you thought these occasional rendezvouses were tedious in the way both you and clarisse had to ensure they remained secret, at least you were able to feel and savor the intoxicating, velvety lips of clarisse's against yours.

again and again until clarisse felt like it was enough—which was never— she pressed soft kisses onto your lips, under the dim lighting, knowing the two of you could get caught if any camper were to be awakened suddenly. but at the end, clarisse thought it didn't matter what the consequences were, as long as she was able to feel your lips against hers, she was content.

and later in the night, that moonlight

standing alone beneath even the deep darkness (even the darkness)

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue fluff #pjo series #pjo tv show #dior goodjohn

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matchavellichor · 10 months

Note

okay huge fan of your dark!seb but hear me out…… dark!ominis

A.N: I absolutely adore dark!ominis omfg—I have like five diff dark omi drabbles in my google docs that i've abandoned bc i feel like no matter how i write it, it seems too out of character for him, then i end up hating it LOL. This isn't as bad as my dark!seb but here's Ominis doing some.....uhhhh questionable things to MC under Imperius.

Just This Once

dark!Ominis x f!MC - NSFW/Angst - 3.1k words - ao3

Tags: !!Non-Con!!, Pining, Obsession, Inappropriate Use of Imperius, Unconsensual Kissing/Touching, Masturbation, Omi Being a Lil Pervball

Summary: Ominis' infatuation leads him to break some of the principles he's held dear to him for the better part of his life.

Part 2, Part 3 (づ￣ ³￣)づ

The fireplace in the Slytherin common room has long gone out for the night, only a few crackling embers to fill the silence. Moonlight seeps in from the windows, through the murky waters of the Black Lake, casting the room in a palid, green hue.

Despite the hour, he knows he’ll find her there.

He wonders if it’s one of the rare nights where she’s asleep by the time he arrives, curled into herself on one of the armchairs with her book forgotten on her lap.

One of the rare evenings where he can afford himself a bit less self-control. Indulge in the silkiness of her skin, trace his fingers over her features until the point she inevitably stirs, and he’s forced to retract himself as if he’d never touched her.

It doesn’t matter if it is. Tonight, he’ll touch her the way he wants to, either way.

His skin prickles with warring emotions as he makes his way soundlessly down the steps of the dormitories. Shame, guilt, disgust—overwhelming anticipation.

The dizzying feeling of want overshadows them all.

An ugly, marred tug of obsession claws its way under his skin like a parasite. He can’t escape it, can’t make it stop—hasn't been able to for a while now.

He’s grown accustomed to it. Grown used to the way his nerves burn when he touches her, the way his lungs scream for oxygen when he catches her scent.

He always wants, yet he never gets, and he’s so, so tired of wanting.

Just this once.

The reminder eases through him like a breeze, quelling the incessant pounding of his heart in his ears, the thin sheen of sweat settling itself over his skin.

His hand trembles when it dips into the pocket of his robes as he approaches the familiar set of lounges in front of the fireplace. He feels for his wand and tightens his hand around it, the wood biting into his skin, a sensation almost comforting in nature.

Just this once.

“Was wondering when you’d show,” her voice is warm and sleep-rough, a hazy melody that proves just as useful in easing his nerves. “Long day?”

“Something like that,” he murmurs. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, weighted with attrition for something he has yet to do.

She waits for him to sit down beside her, but instead he stays in place, hovering over the side of the couch.

He clears his throat, nerves stiffening his voice. “Do you think we could read in the Undercroft tonight?”

She looks at him perplexed, until her lips curl into a smile.

“Since when did you become such a rule breaker? Sebastian finally rubbing off on you?” She humors, stretching her sore limbs.

“I’d just prefer it. Change of…scenery.”

She snorts. “Change of scenery, huh?”

He nods sheepishly, cheeks burning. Change of scenery? Really, Ominis?

He can feel her staring at him, contemplating. He’s half-convinced she can hear the way his heart is nearly beating out of his chest.

“Please,” he adds for good measure.

His fingers find his wand again, tucked surreptitiously behind layers of fabric. He supposes he could cast it here, even if that isn’t part of the plan. The thought makes anxiety trickle up his skin. He doesn’t want to stray from the plan.

When she rises from her seat with an acquiescent sigh, his entire body sinks with relief.

“Alright, fine, let’s go…but we’ll have to be quiet.”

The walk to the Undercroft is spent in the silence of disillusionment spells and muffling charms. Inside the darkened cellar, with only the soft sound of her humming as she settles onto one of the old chaises, a flurry of second-thoughts numb his brain in white static.

Disgust settles itself like a boulder in his gut, the bitter taste of bile rising in his throat as he takes a seat beside her, as he considers over and over again what he’s about to do.

He can feel her thigh press against his when she shifts in her seat. It’s strangely grounding. He feels the taste rescind.

She’s so incredibly warm, so terribly close, that it buries any trepidations he holds deep into an untouchable part of himself, until he can think of nothing but the prospect of more of her skin on his, until desire overshadows any inkling of guilt he might possess.

The urge to touch, and taste, and caress, subjugates the contrite voice in his head that repeats a litany of you promised, you promised, you promised.

His nausea blends into something else as he quietly slips his wand from his pocket, and any vows he’s made to himself about never doing what he’s about to do, dissolves into inexistence as the spell passes through his lips in a whisper.

“Imperio.”

The incantation takes effect with such fluidity, with such little effort, that in that moment, despite all his years of fervent resistance, he has never felt more like a Gaunt.

He resists the urge to double over and be sick on the flagstone floor.

He can barely hear the sound of the book in her hands falling to the floor, nor his own wand slipping from his fingers with a dull clatter. The ringing in his ears is far too loud to allow it.

His core buzzes with the thrum of dark magic that washes over him, a mordant reminder of what exactly he’s done, one that he can feel impress itself on his very soul. He takes a fortifying breath.

Just this once.

“Turn to me.”

The command works over her immediately, and though he can’t see her, he can hear her shift in her seat to face him. He’s never been more grateful for his blindness than in that moment, that he can’t see the glazed-over appearance of her eyes, her vacant stare. He’s certain it would break him.

He shifts forward himself, and when he touches her for the first time with trembling hands, the incessant ringing in his ears ceases. The drove of self-reprehension comes to a halt, replaced by something starved, replaced by the instinct to take.

He drags his fingers unsteadily over the ridge of her cheekbone, traces the contours of her brows, down the bridge of her nose, the same way he’s done before only briefly in her sleep, though this time with more unabashed exploration.

The thrill of not having to be careful awakens something in him. He wants to commit every millimeter to memory.

His thumb brushes over the gentle arch of her cupid’s bow, then over the plush pillow that is her bottom lip.

He doesn’t even realize he’s been holding his breath until his lungs burn for oxygen. His hand takes hold of her jaw and he dips forward, so that his first inhale is made up of nothing but her, his nose pressed to the soft hair at her temple.

He tilts his head and lets his lips land on the smooth plane of her cheek. Her skin is warm and silky, just as he remembered from the brief bits of contact he’s allowed himself in the past. He lets out a contented sigh.

Slowly, patiently, he works himself up to his destination, planting tender kisses along her face, reveling in every little sensation, until he reaches the corner of her mouth.

Her mouth.

He’s almost convinced he’s dreaming.

He takes a shuddering breath and connects their lips the way he’s wanted to for an agonizingly long time.

If he’s ever known softness before, it’s incomparable to what he receives from her lips, from her face cupped in his hands.

He’s filled with the insatiable desire to know more, to drown in it, to suffocate on the feeling of her against him.

His tongue brushes over her bottom lip, tentative and a bit too cautious. He’s not exactly sure how to kiss her, but he notes rather morbidly that she won’t mind either way. It’s not like she’ll remember.

He tries again, experimenting, prodding at her lips softly at first, but she doesn’t part for him the way he expects her to, doesn’t grant him entrance. It’s… not right.

His brain blares with alarms in deafening repetition that it’s wrong, it’s wrong, it’s wrong.

She’s stiff against his lips, frigid and unmoving. It’s not how it should be. It’s not how he wants it to be. It’s askew and breaks him out of his fantasy and it makes him angry.

Makes his fingers dig too harshly into her skin, makes him crowd her against the armrest of the lounge and press his mouth to her more forcefully, as if he can brutalize the compliance out of her.

A whimper escapes her, a brief breach in her trance-like state, and he’s snapped out of his overwhelming frustration. He breaks the kiss and pants against her skin, the reminder of the power he has over her surging back.

“Kiss me.”

Relief oozes into him like the trickle of a downpouring stream, cooling his blood and letting him melt into the feeling of her lips finally moving against his. His touch retreats back to tenderness.

There’s a clumsy sort of uncertainty in the way his mouth moves against hers, an unpracticed mess of tongue and teeth. He doesn’t mind, doesn’t let himself dwell on the chagrin that is his first kiss.

It’s all he’s ever wanted with her. She tastes sweet on his tongue, the culmination of all his desires being fulfilled, and yet still, somehow, it’s not enough.

Even as he kisses her deeply, tenderly, until his lips feel raw and kiss-bruised, and there’s a delicious soreness in his jaw — he can’t shake that little, driving pain in his chest of want.

No, not of want. Of need.

There’s a part of him that he doesn’t quite understand, a part of him that aches for more without being conscious of just what more is.

He’s aware of it, though. He feels it in the tension pulling just below his navel, the heat pooling in his blood. He recognizes it in the depraved instinct to slip his hands up her blouse, to hike up her skirt, and— and—

He contemplates straying from the plan for the second time that night.

All he wanted was to kiss her, just this once, just this once— but as he tips her back onto the cushions, as he hovers over her with his lips never leaving hers, he realizes that isn’t true.

He lets himself sink against her. Her body molds with his, presses against his own, plush and warm and indescribably perfect. He pins her down with his weight—even if he’s aware he doesn’t have to, he finds some sick sense of security in knowing she can’t escape.

He wants more.

He slots himself between her legs and tugs one of her thighs around his waist. It’s almost too much, his breathing scattered and uneven.

He wants more.

Even if he isn’t sure what more entails, he possesses some idea as his hips begin to rut against hers of their own accord. The whimper he lets out makes him burn with shame.

He buries his face in the crook of her neck to hide his mortification. He inhales, until the dizzying scent of her perfume numbs his brain.

He’s subtly aware of the fact he’s grinding right against her knickers, her skirt bunched up haphazardly at her hips to accommodate him between her legs. He tries not to think about it.

His thoughts feel hazy as he contemplates the fact that only a thin piece of cotton separates her cunt from rubbing right against the front of his trousers. It would be so easy to—

He can’t.

He forces himself to keep his hands above her waist, far from temptation. He doesn’t force them not to wander, though.

Just this once, he repeats, as his fingers hover over the front placket of her blouse. He muffles his breathing with his lips pressed to her throat.

He trails his hand up to her collar and unclasps the first button with trembling fingers. He tries not to think about it, either.

He concentrates on how she tastes when he dips his tongue out to lick a stripe just under her jaw, and for a moment he doesn’t care how lewd it is, doesn’t care how utterly debased he’s acting.

Her breath hitches, just the subtlest change in pitch, but it’s enough for him to pretend that she wants this. That she wants him.

Little, brass buttons clatter to the stone floor of the Undercroft in quiet clinks, byproduct of his impatience, of his self-restraint slipping from his fingers in the hasty manner he undresses her.

The same hasty manner he fumbles with his belt—before he can think too long about what he’s about to do—until he’s gripping his weeping cock and biting down on his lip to stop the shameful noises threatening to escape his throat.

He palms himself shakily, remorse adling his unsteady movements, while he tries to work the courage to actually touch her. It isn’t long before his hand is slick with his arousal, and the skin of her neck is damp with his heavy breathing.

His hand hovers over the bare skin of her midriff, fingers twitching with the desire to sink them into her soft flesh, to trace over her curves and memorize the contours he’s only felt in daydreams.

His voice is raw when he commands her, riddled with shame. “Ask—ask me to touch you.”

She obeys in a whisper. “Please, touch me.”

It’s wrong, it’s all wrong, it’s not—

“Ask me to touch you and say my name.”

“Touch me,” she breathes, and he can feel the vibration of her voice where his mouth is still latched onto the base of her throat. “Please, Ominis.”

There.

His name on her lips strikes his nerves on fire, lights the very blood in his veins alight. He caves.

Her skin is warm under his fingertips. He can feel her heartbeat where he presses his palm to her sternum, a frantic pounding— undoubtedly a reflection of her subconscious beneath the influence of the spell.

He doesn’t allow himself to feel guilty, he can’t. Not now.

Instead, he indulges. Pushes the sheer material of her chemise the rest of the way up, until it’s over her chest, and he can feel.

Her nipples pebble as they come in contact with the cool air of the Undercroft and he runs his hand over the stiffened bud, rolls it between his thumb and index.

She’s overwhelmingly soft. It disgusts him how badly he wants to defile her for it.

He notes wryly how revoltingly weak he is, if all it took was some poorly-placed obsession for him to do away with every last principle he’s spent the better part of his life cultivating. How easily an Unforgivable spilled from his lips at the prospect of feeling hers.

He’ll scrub his skin raw afterwards in the shower in a desperate attempt to forget all of this, he promises himself. He won’t do this again, he can’t—

Just this once.

His head sinks to her chest and he murmurs against her skin, “Again— Say, say it again.”

“Please, Ominis.”

He sighs in blissful relief. “Yes.”

He counts the rows of her sternum with a drag of his tongue. Her chest is already sticky with his saliva when he takes hold of his cock again, the dripping tip sullying her untouched skin.

His hips rut into his own hand and the Undercroft fills with the sounds of his quiet grunts. He squeezes his eyes shut and imagines it’s her he’s thrusting into as he fucks his fist, his other hand groping blindly, fondling and squeezing her supple flesh until he’s sure he’s left marks in his carelessness.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, because he likes to pretend it’s real. “So–so good, angel.”

She lets out the softest whimper, and it’s enough to make his jaw fall slack, a pleasured groan escaping his parted lips.

He presses his forehead to hers. “I love you. I love you so much. Tell me— tell me you love me. Please say it.”

“I love you.”

She obeys too fast, her voice too vacant. It’s unnatural. He doesn’t care. Those three little words are enough to wrench a strangled sort of sound out of his chest.

“Again,” he begs, voice hoarse, and he’s only distantly aware of the wet tracks running down his cheeks. His thrusts are sloppy and frantic, so close to his undoing. “Say my name.”

“I love you, Ominis.”

“Fuck,” his voice cracks, his head dropping to her shoulder.

He’s pushed over the edge with a sob, painting her stomach and chest in ribbons of milky white. An endless litany of I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry pours from his lips as he shudders through his climax.

Shame sears through him like fiendfyre and he moans his forgiveness on a cry against her lips, kisses her tenderly as if it’s an act of retribution.

His hand finds her stomach, his palm rubbing into the incriminating mess of his seed on her skin, and the satisfaction he feels with it only serves to amplify his self-disgust.

He kneads the sticky flesh beneath his fingertips, as if he can make it so that even after the scourgify, some part of him will be there, a memory only he’s aware of. He doesn’t want to let her go, he can’t— he—

He does so anyway. He forces himself off of her on unsteady legs and tucks himself into his trousers.

He cleans her with all the care in the world, as if his tenderness will somehow make up for how crudely he’s violated her trust tonight.

Everytime his hand brushes over her skin as he redresses her, he repeats to himself that it was just this once. Brands it into his brain, lets that contrite voice repeat it over and over again until he might go mad.

He takes her back to the common room and sets her down gently into that same armchair she was waiting for him in at the beginning of the night. Brushes a lingering kiss to her forehead that stretches for a moment too long.

He mutters a reluctant finite incantatem under his breath, pairs it with a heavy sleeping spell, and retreats to his own dorm before he can fall to temptation again.

Only then, behind the drawn curtains of his four-poster, skin still prickling with the memory of every way he’d touched her, is he made certain of something he’s been trying desperately to deny all evening.

This was the first time, but it certainly won’t be the last.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy smut #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis x reader #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt x mc #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #hogwarts legacy fan fiction

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rafesgoldrings · 1 year

Note

Okay so we got jealous Rafe…but what about jealous trophy wife reader. Let’s say an older woman, one Rafe’s age, starts stopping by the office because she’s thinking about doing business with him. She starts getting a little too friendly with him and it makes reader a little upset since she’s so much younger. One day the woman and Rafe go into his office for a private meeting and reader goes in and drops to her knees and starts sucking Rafe off so the lady gets the hint

OH MY GOD?? The gasp I just gusped (I also hit the text limit writing this and if that doesn’t say anything about the obsession I have with trophy wife reader and Rafe, I don’t know what will😭)

You didn’t like her. Didn’t even have to speak to her to know that she was an insufferable cunt who was up to no good, the way she stared you down with that irritating smirk and gave Rafe fuck me eyes told you what you needed to know. Part of you was already insecure enough being with Rafe, he was older, smarter, and a hell of a lot more successful and experienced than you, now this stupid older woman, closer in both his age and success, was here making moves on him. You had no doubt he loves you for who you are, despite the age gap and success level differences, but that didn’t stop you from seeing red each time they spoke. You really did try to keep yourself collected in order for him to secure this business deal, he’d told you how important it was to the company and you weren’t trying to fuck that up for him. But when she walked into his office alone, him following shortly after, that was your final straw. You’d stormed towards his door, red bottoms that your husband bought you echoing prominently in the room, before opening it and storming inside not bothering to close the door behind you. “Baby? What are you doing here?” Rafe asked with a nervous chuckle, he was so close to securing the deal and getting rid of the woman before you’d stormed in. The man wasn’t an idiot, in all his years of being alive and working in the business he’d seen women just like her. The ones that would flirt and sleep their way into a deal, that’s why he’d always reject her and remind her he was a happily married man, it just didn’t deter her at all. You said nothing to him, just walked over in front of him and sank to your knees, unbuckling his belt and undoing his business slacks before pulling his cock out and stroking it with your hand. You’d made it a point to exaggerate your wedding ring, all the diamonds shining brightly against the fluorescent lights above you. His hips would buck into your hand and you sent her a smirk from across the desk. A big look of ‘see how he responds to me. he’s mine, fucking back off’ loving the look of unease she gave you. Her jaw slightly clenched and breathing becoming increasingly more rapid as she grew more irritated. His hand instinctively flew to your hair and pulled it in a makeshift ponytail, moving your head so your mouth was lined up with his cock. You’d stick your tongue out and place it flat against his tip, slowly pushing more in until his cock was hitting the back of your throat before wrapping your lips around it and sucking. The small whimpers he was making mixed with the feeling of being watched made you more eager to keep going, hands moving to play with his balls and moaning around his cock like he loved you doing. Your fellow employees could easily see and hear everything, but nobody would say a word. You could have them fired within seconds if they dared, and they wouldn’t say a word to their boss knowing he could make their life hell, so they opted to mind their own business. The woman cleared her throat, alerting Rafe to her presence again, and raised her brows like she expected him to tell you to stop. To her surprise, he just mumbled a quick ‘sorry, where were we?’ you still on your knees sucking him off under the desk. Each time she’d speak to him, you sucked harder, squeezed his balls harder, so he’d let out a loud groan of your name and remind her of her place. The deal would quickly come to a close right as he came. Thick ropes of cum coating your tongue and throat, you kept sucking him dry. It wasn’t until he physically pulled you off that you stopped, turning your head to the side just in time to see her walk out of his office and shout “thanks for doing business with my husband! next time keep yourself in line yeah?” the taste of him still fresh on your tongue. He’d pull you up by your throat into a sloppy kiss. “That was so fucking hot baby, want to fuck you on my desk” he’d mumble on your lips, striding over to the door to close and lock it before returning to you, bending you in half over the desk and pushing your skirt up so that he could have his way with you

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #trophy wife! reader x rafe #asks <3

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rinrinx2 · 2 years

Text

I'm smart

South Terano x Bimbo!reader

Summary: Being the younger sister of the Haitani brothers has come with many privilges, but the side affects of it all left you nothing but an airhead, some would even say a bimbo. When South meets you he realizes that a woman who thinks with her pussy is just what he needs but when you have to decide between him or your brothers who will you choose?

Warnings: Mature themes, Innapropriate language, Smut, Toxic Relationship, Angst, Bimbo reader, Use of the word slut, orgasm.

Text like this indicate messages between south and you

All characters are aged up!

Requested by @lovelygeniegirl1012

Part 2

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

Ran and Rindou were never fond of South, the only reason they tolerated him was because he was the leader of Rokuhara Tandai. They tolerated the giant of a man. When he beat the living shit out of them forcing them to join his gang they submitted, accepting their defeat. But they would not become so lowlife subordinate beneath him, Ran had managed to work his way to second in command in Rokuhara Tandai and Rindou as its third.

That is the way it was for a while, South would have an idea, he would relate it to Ran, Ran would give his advice but inevitably South would do as he pleased, and no matter how bad the idea was Ran bit his tongue and did as he was told. That is how Ran and Rindou dealt with South, they knew he would not come near Roppongi for more than a day. Roppongi was their land, which was until you stepped into the picture.

When you began dating South, Ran and Rindou were a little less than thrilled. They loathed having South in their living space more than necessary, but they hated that you were obsessed with him; but even then, the two brothers kept their comments to themselves. If you were happy, they would be too.

And the two of them tried, they really did. No matter the comments South would make, or the marks he left in plain sight on your body, they said nothing about. They were going to be supportive for you, even if a fraction of them said nothing in fear of how South might react if they showed their true emotions.

But even the hardest of exteriors would crack and your brothers were no exception to this. The first to crack was Rindou.

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

You had gathered your brothers and asked your lover to join them to watch your comeback performance.

“You all are sitting ready?” You asked through the phone with clear excitement lacing your voice.

“Yes, we are princess” Ran said with his shoulder holding the phone up to his ear, while he walked over to where Rindou sat on the couch, carrying a bowl of popcorn.

Ran placed the bowl down on the coffee table sitting down besides Rindou, phone still to his ear, now holding it with his hand.

“Okay good. We are going on stage in five minutes” you said giggling at the other end of the phone.

Ran would never tell you now that your boyfriend had not even showed to their penthouse to watch you perform as he had promised, rather he was going to do it when you returned to prove his point of how much a horrible person South was as if you hadn’t already known.

“Goodluck Angel. Rindou and I are cheering for you” Ran said with a smile as he put the phone down, hearing as your other group members happily squeaked in the background at their comeback.

“Was it princess on the phone?” Rindou asked as he reached for the popcorn on the coffee table.

“Yeah, she said that she’d be on in five minutes. So, its best we switch to that channel they are live streaming it from”

Ran picked up the remote and began clicking away till he reached the channel where you he saw your figure standing on, as you prepared to begin. Rindou smiled seeing you stand there; he was so proud of you. His baby sister all grown up in her cute short skirts. Rindou began to remember how when the two of you were younger whenever you’d wear a short skirt, he’d reach his hand up and pinch at your thighs causing to cry out in pain, but you’d never stop him, in fact you’d wear more short skirts around him as if encouraging him to continue his actions.

Rindou’s thoughts were quickly interrupted when a loud bang was heard on the door.

Rindou sighed out already knowing who it was, already standing up walking over to the door while Ran remain seated with a stoic face.

“You’d think he’d show up on time to see his girlfriend’s comeback performance” Rindou said quietly to himself as he opened the door.

“Evening Rinnie” South said condescendingly as he waltzed into their penthouse, not sparring another glance at Rindou as he made his way over to where Ran sat on the couch.

“My girl perform yet?” South asked Ran as he sat down, grabbing the popcorn bowl that Rindo was once eating at.

“You made it just in time, they are starting now” Ran said keeping his gaze at the tv, refusing to even have his eyes look at him.

Rindou quickly made his way back to the couch, now sitting on the left side of South and Ran sat on his right. Rindou had prayed that South would not show up and that he would be the one to announce the heart-breaking news of your boyfriend being an obvious asshole, but alas he was wrong. South had showed up even if he barely made it in time.

Rindou snapped his head out of any negative thoughts as your performance began. He watched as you sang and danced. Enjoying how you were in your element which was surprizing considering you barely knew how to do anything, but performance didn’t really require much skill Rindou thought.

Rindou had a wide toothy smile on his face as he watched you perform, so engrossed in your performance that he forgot South even sat beside him that was until South began to speak.

“You see that bruise on her inner thigh, I gave her that last night. Now she’s on national T.V looking like a slut with bruises on her thigh” South laughed out.

Rindou side eyed South, with a scowl starting to appear on his face but he tried his best to keep his composure.

‘Its for princess, calm down’ he kept repeating in his head over and over until he felt the heat in his hands cool down.

“That’s skirt so short, looks like the one I used as a cum rag the other night” South said with a massive smile while patting Rindou harshly on the shoulder.

Rindou felt his hands ball into fists and let out a heavy sigh looking over at Ran who gave him a look to calm down.

‘Its not worth it’ Ran’s face read, but still Rindou’s fist remained balled.

“She looks like such a slut up there; her pussy isn’t even going to be reusable when I’m done with her tonight”

And that did it.

“Fuck it” Rindou said, as he swung his fist in the direction of South’s face. Landing a hard punch in the bigger male’s jaw, as he began using South’s face as a punching bag while Ran tried to pull him off of the larger male.

Rindou continued beating his fist into South’s face repeatedly, the flesh on his knuckles was bleeding but even then, he still punched at South’s face that was until Ran had finally pulled him away.

Rindou stood beside Ran heaving heavily.

“What the fuck Rindou?” Ran said loudly with slight panic in his voice.

“You’re going to let him speak like that about our princess?” Rindou said aggravated with a loud boom in his voice.

“Huh, Ran are you?!” Rindou continued to scream out.

But before Ran could reply South was already standing up from the couch, nose bleeding, lip torn open and with blood dripping down his forehead, he came marching over to where Ran and Rindou stood with a massive smile on his face.

Without another word being said South began bashing into Rindou’s face, causing Rindou to fall onto the ground. South kept at beating Rindou till he lie passed out on the floor.

When Rindou woke up your performance was done, South was gone, and his face was bleeding and bruised. But no matter how bad the beating he received from South he refused to ever submit to him again.

‘Come to my place. Now!’

The message from South read after your performance, and without a second thought you went to him that night not even noting your brothers of where you would be sleeping that night, but from the events of that night they knew already that your boyfriend would call you over to patch his wounds and spill lies into your ears about his unfair attack done by Rindou.

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

After the events that occurred at your brother’s penthouse with South and Rindou, you had become more distant towards them, opting to spend majority of your time with South or locked in your room with South.

Ran slowly began to regret the way he had raised you, to be so submissive and naïve, not even being able to think for yourself. But he kept on the façade for your sake, even if Rindou was done. Ran still tried to be tolerant when South came to see you, even if it were seldom as the two of you would spend majority of your time at South apartment. Ran continued playing supportive older brother even if Rindou was done.

“You okay, princess?’ Ran asked as he tucked you into your pink sheets

“I'm great Rannie” you replied with a soft smile.

“i'm glad princess”

Ran looked down at your face with your eyes closed letting the silence engluf the two of you until he spoke again.

“Hey princess, does South touch your princess parts like I used too?” Ran asked causing you to open your eyes.

You looked at Ran for a moment, watching a slight frown was etched onto his handsome features before you spoke again.

“Well he doesn’t touch them like you do or like Rinnie does. His more rough” you said trying to find the words to get the message across to Ran.

“But I like it, so its fine” you said with a cheerful smile proceeding to close your eyes again.

Ran left your room, with a sick feeling. You were dumb, really dumb but he never imagined you’d be dumb enough to let South handle you like that. His airhead of a sister was hopeless in this situation, and he was not sure how much longer his façade would be kept up before he cracked like Rindou

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

“South” you moaned out against his lips as he kissed on the couch, the same couch Rindou had attempted to beat the life out of South.

“Let’s do it in my room” you begged out against his lips, as south began to pull your shorts down your legs.

“It’s fun-ner like this” South said as he moved his lips from yours to your neck, as needy moans slipped from your lips as South’s tongue slipped out and began licking up and down the column of your neck.

Before you could protest any further South had pulled your pantie down along with your shorts.

“For someone who doesn’t want to do it here you sure are soaked” he said with a condescending laugh at your arousal at the situation.

South began ridding you of your t-shirt, removing it with little effort.

“No bra” he said with wide eyes.

“Such a slut” he said as he leaned down towards your breast taking one in his mouth while his hand came down to the other pinching the bud till it was hard.

South continued his actions of sucking at your one breast while the other rolled your nipple over and over until you were begging for him to fuck you.

“Please South. Please” you begged out as your slick now coated your inner thighs as well as the leather couch beneath you.

“Say the magic words” South said against your nipple, the vibrations of his voice causing you to gush out more.

“I’m a dumb bimbo. I am your dumb Bimbo” you cried out.

“Atta girl” South said as he pulled away from your nipple. South quickly pulled you onto your hand and knees with your face towards the penthouse door.

South pulled out his cock, the head dripping with pre-cum, not being able to wait he pushed his cock into your unprepared hole.

You cried out at the massive stretch that South caused.

South began fucking you like a bitch in heat. His cock slamming in and out of your pussy. The feeling of his cock slipping in and out of your soaking walls had your brain turning to mush. The only thought was how good South was fucking into your pussy, as you clenched down on him.

South could feel how needy you were for him, the way your pussy was milking him as if it never had cock in its life. South could feel the cum in his balls travel to his cock, just waiting to paint your pretty pussy and nice white colour, fill your up so much that your head was filled with his cum.

“You near slut?” South growled out while he kept fucking into like a wild animal.

“Ye- yes” you moaned out struggling to form sentences.

The way South was fucking you made you see stars, the deep pressure sensation that he caused with each thrust was becoming too much. Your pussy was grabbing at his cock, sucking him in for dear life, as he fucked you over and over; you looked down noting the string of foamy slick dripping down from how he fucked your pussy.

South could not last any loner, from the way your ass was bounching back against his dick to how your pussy was clenching down him was to much, and with a loud grunt South came hard. Hot ropes of semen shooting into your pussy.

The sensation of South’s hot cum spilling inside you caused you pussy to clench unbearably tight around him, as you came hard milking him for whatever cum he had left. Your pussy walls fluttered, and you pushed you ass back humping at South’s cock, so greedy for cock. So desperate for your pussy and head to be filled with cum that you had not even heard the door open.

And there stood your brothers Ran and Rindou watching as you came hard around your boyfriend’s cock.

And that’s when Ran cracked finally.

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

You had never seen your brothers like this before, Ran pacing up and down while he held his baton hitting anything that came in his path while Rindou sat completely still on the arm chair near the couch not making a sound or move, while you sat semi-nude with nothing but an overside shirt you found lying on the floor covering your once naked body while South sat next to you without a care in the world.

“What the fuck were the two of you doing?”Ran asked as he now stood infront of you and south.

“What the fuck do you think” South said with a smirk.

“I can’t believe this (Y/N)” ran said looking at you but you refused to look into your brothers eyes, to ashamed to look into his.

Ran watched as you kept your gaze down, while South sat beside you with the biggest smirk on his face. There was only one way out of this situation and Ran knew that it would be worth a little heartbreak if it meant he didn’t have to come home to see his sister getting fucked on his couch. So, without a moment of hesitation Ran asked the question he had been dying to ask since you met South.

“(Y/N), us or South. Choose now” Ran commanded, finally causing you to look up at him. You looked at Ran with pleading eyes, begging that there was some mercy in him to not make you choose.

“Choose!” Ran shouted out again. You looked out at you Rindou, his eyes fixed on yours, no hint of a smile, then your eyes moved over to Ran’s who had the look of death in his eyes, and the finally you looked over to South whose eyes shone bright with a smile on his face.

And had you been raised differently, without everyone doing everything for you, or saying everything you wanted to hear, or if you brothers hadn’t bought you everything your heart desired, or maybe just maybe if you were smarter your answer would be the better the obvious but of course you were oblivious to the obvious.

So, with all the surety in the world you gave your brother’s their answer with the biggest smile on your face.

“South”

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z3nitsusgf · 2 years

Text

Metamorphose

homelander | reader

cw: graphic depictions of violence/gore, needles, forced injections, body horror(?), obsessive/possessive behavior, power dynamics, knives, you get pushed off a building, death (not reader)

wc: 3.9k

anon: hi i have an idea for a maybe part 2 of your dark soulmate au with homelander? the reader is injected with V, either because homelander forced it or she just can’t take being so vulnerable around him anymore so she sneaks into the labs and does it herself. anyway, when she wakes up, it turns out that she now has the exact same abilities as he does- chaos ensues: homelander being a mix of jealous/now seeing reader as an equal, vought having an absolute PR field day, reader putting her foot down with homelander. if you have something else lined up or this doesn’t take your fancy that’s fine! just a lil thought :)

met·a·mor·phose

verb

• to change into a different physical form especially by supernatural means.

• to change strikingly the appearance or character of: transform

It could kill you.

You could gain powers or die. Either way, you're already past the safe testing mark. Though, it’s not like that’s going to stop him.

You don't know what the V really does. It's just a faulty man-made serum that’s supposed to put your body through a genetic blender and spit out some amazing power. And you're sure as hell it's not FDA approved.

They haven’t really taken into account your comfort, physically and mentally. You’re strapped, belly down, on a hospital table. You’re sure your neck will ache from the position later, muscles straining.

The bed paper feels strange on your face, like the type of tissue paper you’d get in a present, the soft pink kind that fluffs against a bagged gift on your birthday or on Christmas. It’s not either of those things. But this is his gift to you he said, a sick cruel gift.

Homelander said you’d be getting a check-up, simple routine vaccines, and whatnot. He didn’t mention forcing you to become a supe.

You didn’t think you could hate him more.

“It’s just precautionary, for your safety really. We don’t know what kind of power you’ll get.”

Homelander has his hands folded against his back, cape draped over them as he peruses the doctor's office. The nurse is off the side, preparing the V in a long syringe, you can hear her shuffle around the room. It smells of rubbing alcohol and bleach, the room is a sterile white, only decorated with a few college graduation plaques. Homelander stands out like a sore thumb, red and blue like neon traffic signs against the dull paint.

“I mean, for all we know you could hulk out and destroy the office.” He says it to be funny, letting it roll off his tongue with a good-natured chuckle. He doesn’t comment on the way you glare at him with pure hatred.

You can only move your eyes to the side, glaring at the wall where a poster of Homelander himself is hung up. The picture of him grinning with his pearly whites and a thumbs up, captioned with “Stay Well, Get Your Shots!”, in big blocky letters.

Homelander tries to soothe the nerves, he can see how you look up at him with teary wild eyes, teeth clenched as you bite back the absolute disgust that pools in your mouth. Heart hammering in your throat, you strain your fingers against the leather wristbands.

“What if I fucking die or grow a third leg? Oh my god-“

You’re hyperventilating, trying to squirm your way out of the bond. The thought of turning into a monster is nauseating, it makes bile rise in your stomach. But Homelander just watches, shaking his head with a small smile.

“Don’t be so dramatic, you’re in great hands. Nothing is gonna happen,” he squats down next to your face, leaning forward to brush his nose against your temple,

“Plus you’ll finally be able to keep up with me.”

Of course, it’s always about him.

When he stands, he gestures to the nurse to start. Giving you a pat on the head for good luck. The nurse is trying her best to be gentle. Homelander stands beside you, smoothing his hand down your shoulder blades. He’s shushing you, cooing like you’re a pet.

“It’ll all be over soon, don’t worry.”

You know he’s just there to make sure you don’t bolt, to make sure you’re compliant. The palm on your back is more of a heavy promise than comfort. You feel the cold air of the hospital room when they lift your shirt. Skin bumping in chills at the draft, your hands twist inside the leather.

“Wait, please-“

Your eyes go wide when the needle is pushing into your spinal cord, it’s heavy and foreign in your flesh. Your mouth parts and you feel the serum. It’s thick, sticky almost. You can feel the icy-hot texture of it spread inside your lower back.

It hurts.

“John-“

You can barely say his name without wheezing, crying out at the molten pain. He crouches down, his face next to yours. His eyes narrowed in curiosity and concern. He’s never seen someone this old be injected with the compound V, he knows it’s possible though.

“You’re doing so good, just a little longer.”

He mumbles, he can feel the prickle of uncertainty in his head. He knows you probably hate him right now, and he gets it. Oddly enough he doesn’t like how you writhe in pain, how you wail and kick at nothing. It reminds him too much of days spent in the lab. But he’s curious, curious to see how you react. What powers will your body develop?

Will you be like Maeve, with super strength and indestructible skin? Or like A-train, faster than the light and sound? He just hopes you don’t get something useless and stupid, like Deep’s awful power.

You sob, choking on the air and feeling the hot tears spill over your face and onto the chair. Your kick your legs at nothing, twisting and writhing on your stomach. Faintly, in the back of your mind, you wonder what your family would think.

“It hurts- John, fuck it hurts.”

You can feel it changing your DNA, mutating each cell. It ravages you, flooding your system with - pain. It feels like annihilation. There's that human impulse inside you, that rages to fight against it. To not let it bury the real you under its shimmer. To not let your blood turn blue.

He watches on curiously. Your skin ripples, just under the surface of your back - like snakes are coiling around your intestines. Each bone of your spine protrudes as if it’s trying to claw its way from your body. You’re terrified that your system is rejecting it.

“Please, I don’t wanna die.” You cry, tears pooling underneath your cheek and into the paper. Soaking through and leaving the table wet with salty water. Homelander runs his fingers through your hair, petting your skull in an attempt to be soothing.

There’s a buzzing, a high-pitched ringing that stabs your brain, the pain is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You give way to the dark, letting the wave of it roll over you as you pass out.

Homelander watches with a lip tucked between his teeth, eyebrows drawn together in worry. Your eyes roll back and your breathing slows, he can see how high your blood pressure is. Chemicals firing inside your system like a fucking nuclear explosion.

“Well, don’t just fucking stand there like a ditzy moron, help her.” He snaps at the nurse, barking the command as she scrambles to roll you over and check your vitals.

—

Bright fluorescent lights blind you when you wake. No longer on your belly, instead you’re resting on your back. A voice says your name, over and over. Your ears ring, everything muffled like cotton shoved inside. You sit up with a sore ache in your body. Gripping the edge of the table, you don’t notice the indents in the metal when you stand, and you hop off with shaky legs.

“Woah, careful there cowboy, don’t get all excited just yet.”

Homelander is holding your shoulder, the creases between his eyebrows deepening at the way you sway. You can barely see when you stand, vision blurring between dark and light, static spotting that bubbles around your corneas as press your palms into your eye sockets.

“Fuck, I feel like I got hit with a bus.”

Everything is fuzzy, too bright, and too loud. Homelander is asking you how you feel, thumb slowly rubbing into the muscle where your neck meets your shoulder.

“You alright? Need anything?”

He barks for the nurse to come back and you cup your hands over your ears. He’s too loud, his voice shakes down to your bones.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just need to-“

You feel the overwhelming urge to vomit, a swell of bile rising in your throat. You shove past Homelander, stumbling into the bathroom, gripping onto the sink, trying not to dry heave your lunch.

You kick the door closed, sliding down it to sit on the cool tile. Palms pressing down onto it, the porcelain feeling like ice on your skin. The singular tap tap tap of the faucet dripping is unbearable, to say the least. You can feel, hear - everything. Down to the faint creak of your shoulder as the joints creak against each other. Your chest swells in pain, from the weight of it all.

There’s resentment, a restrained animosity never spoken aloud but it’s there. You want to destroy everything and cry. It’s a humiliating feeling, to be forced into this new body. It omits a sinking feeling that never really goes away but instead amasses into a narrow drain that thaws out with every passing minute. Oozing a vomitus sap ichor from withering hallowed pores.

You’re surprised he even lets you out of his sight, allowing you this moment of reprieve - even if it’s just for a bit.

You hear him talk to the nurse, his voice coming through the door clearly. You don’t know how long you sit, the time passes quickly yet slowly. You blink with blurred vision before standing. When you look in the mirror your eyes are strange, like you haven't slept in weeks. Red pupils that bleed into a glowing vermillion, like diffusing saffron.

Eyes bloodshot, lips chapped, your face feels drained of blood. You look like you’ve been run over with a train.

After a few minutes of blankly staring you wash your hands. The cold shocks your hands and it pricks your flesh sobering you. You hiss at the hyper-sensitive feeling that stings your hands, everything feels like it’s been dialed up to a thousand.

“Ow- shit.”

You don’t even try to dry your hands, you’re sure it’ll just make you want to cry. Instead, you pull at the skin just under your eye, looking at the whites. Your lashes are drippy in salty tears. There's a weird sensation that burns the back of your sockets, a red-hot plasmatic feeling.

“What the fuck.” You whisper, and you lean closer, staring at yourself.

A radiant circle of light beams in your pupils, burning bright and familiarly. You’ve only seen one other person who’s able to do this. And he’s standing right outside. It’s innately fascinating as it is terrifying, bordering on the uncanny valley. You blink it away before you can get ahead of yourself.

“Sweetheart, you okay?” Homelander calls from the other side of the door, hand already on the handle and about to push it open when you jump back from the sink. He doesn’t expect it when you swing it open. Mouth parting to look at how disheveled you appear.

“I’m okay, just tired.” You’re not necessarily lying, you’re exhausted.

Homelander gives you a knowing smile, pulling you into his chest. He’s just glad you’re not throwing a fit at him for making you do this, he’s really not in the mood to deal with that right now.

“Of course you are, I’ll take you back to our room so you can rest.” He cups your head between his hands and swipes his thumbs across your tacky cheeks.

You hold his wrists, not really smiling back as you stare into his clear blue eyes. The icy ring is incredibly bright, you can see each fine line and pore. Like you’re looking at him through a magnifying glass. Homelander thinks you’re just disoriented and he presses a kiss on your forehead.

“Then we can test your new powers.”

—

You don’t sleep that night. You can’t, not with the realization.

You pace around his penthouse, chewing on your hangnails till they burn and bleed. Homelander tried to get you to eat earlier but everything tasted too greasy and strong.

He tried to talk to you, yapping about how good this was. New opportunities and whatever - you could even become part of seven. You just hugged your knees on the couch. After a while he’d gotten a call, something about a shootout and hostages all the way in Staten Island - you didn’t really pay attention.

You’re trying to piece your mind together, trying to understand this new body - these powers.

It’s late, the moon hangs high in the sky and warm lamps glow inside the penthouse. You can hear everything; from the people talking on the phone 76 floors down, to Mr. Edgar all the way up on 99. Every elevator door opening, every conversation, it all bleeds inside your ears.

You felt that continual burn in your eye sockets, you realized all too late the implications until you accidentally blew a hole through one of John’s statues in the living room. The scorched marble dripped from the plasmatic laser beams. You hope he’s not too mad about that.

It still doesn’t feel real. Like this is some dream, one that you’ll wake up from any second.

You want to be sure, you want to know exactly if you’re really like him. You have to test it. Homelander be damned, fuck him and his command for you to “wait for his observation”, you were doing this now.

You stalk into his kitchen, for someone who doesn’t cook (and doesn’t know how), it’s fully furnished. Probably because you’re here now. Your feet pad against the cold tile, standing in front of the knife set. They’re high-quality, some Japanese brand that you could never actually afford.

You take the biggest one, one meant for carving meat, unsheathing it from the wooden cutting block like it’s Queen Maeve’s sword. It’s sharp and glints like silver starlight under the LED. You tremble, holding the knife in both hands, gripping the black handle tightly.

This could go horribly wrong if you’re not right about this. It’s not like every supe has indestructible skin - fuck it.

“Okay.” You breathe in until it hurts, exhaling and pointing the tip of the knife towards your abdomen. You draw the knife outwards, extending your elbows out.

“Here goes nothing.” You whisper to yourself, clenching your eyes shut and plunging the steel into your gut.

You brace yourself for the excruciating pain - but it doesn’t come. Instead, you feel the metal bend against your stomach, the knife folding in on itself. It didn’t pierce, didn’t even nick you. You drop it with shaky hands, hearing the soft metal clang on the tile, laughing out a breath of relief.

It’s real, you’re not a human anymore. Even worse, you’re just like him.

“Well, that was quite the show.”

You spin around to see Homelander standing off to the side, leaning against the wall of his kitchen with a dopey grin. He’s got his arms crossed and his gloves off.

“I mean, you didn’t have to ruin one of the kitchen knives, but still.” He claps, applauding you for your dramatic display.

“When did you…” You trail off, it doesn’t really matter you suppose. He was going to see it for himself eventually.

“Oh, I saw the whole thing. Pretty ballsy if you ask me.” He approaches you with that casual demeanor, but you can see the underlying instability in his features.

He drags a finger over your jaw, down your neck until it dips into the collar of your shirt.

“I mean, wow. Really, wow. This is just, incredible.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words, lips parting in confusion.

“You’re not mad?”

A beat.

Homelander scoffs out a chuckle, an arm coming up to hook around your waist. It’s an awkward hug like he’s trying to show he’s being genuine but failing. He cups your chin and lifts your face, the twitch of his lip is hardly noticeable unless you look for it.

“Why would I be mad? My soulmate, my perfect wonderful soulmate - is just like me.”

—

When Homelander said he’d help you learn how to manage your new powers - you didn’t think he meant this.

You feel light-headed, looking down at the city of New York from atop the Trade Center. Standing on the roof of the tallest building in the whole city. It’s dizzying, you get flashbacks from when he dropped you. You turn to look up at Homelander, glancing between him and the little glittering dots of each skyscraper. The sun refracting off the glass.

“Well?” He gestures with his hand for you to get a move on. Your legs are shaky, knees turned inward as you peer off the ledge and into the open expanse.

Earlier he said, “if you’re anything like me, you can fly.” You thought he was gonna start small, not make you jump from the World Trade Center.

“John, I don’t think-“

“That’s good, don’t think. Just-“ He puts a hand on your lower back and shoves. “Fly.”

You’re falling forward, flailing your arms as you crash down into the sky. You’re screaming, and you hear Homelander yell behind you (above you?).

“Just let your body do its thing!” He hollers with his hands cupped over his mouth.

You try not to think about how fast you’re falling, instead, you just think about flying. Spreading your arms like you’re a bird, praying that if you get too close to the ground Homelander will catch you.

“Fly, fly. Just fucking fly straight.” You mutter to yourself, fists clenched as you feel the air whip around you.

It’s almost instinctual, your body defies the gravity around you - and you soar. Instead of helplessly descending down, you float. Up and up and up, past the glittering buildings and the trade center. You are so free that you become Icarus, flying so close to the sun it burns.

He’s watching with piqued interest, gazing up at you as you soar upwards, no longer jetting towards the ground. You give a whoop, arms kissed by the breeze as you wobbly glide through the air just as you’ve seen Homelander do. It’s such a beautiful feeling, you’ve never felt it before.

You close your eyes, basking in the sun above the clouds. You don’t notice Homelander come up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and settling his chin on your shoulder. It’s sweet, almost. Watching the horizon, not having to worry if he’ll let you go- because you can keep yourself afloat without him.

To immerse yourself within this openness is to bring out your vulnerability. It’s a way to be comfortable with fear.

“See, I told you you’d fly.” He mutters into your shoulder, kissing it.

Maybe this isn’t so bad.

—

Homelander thinks it’s great you can hold your own now. But if he’s being honest, you need to toughen up. Especially, since Vought wants you as the next face of The Seven.

Not to mention, it’s hot as fuck to see you this violent.

You’re shaking, hands trembling in raw regret and fear. Even though you’re just as strong as he is, just as powerful - you still act like a scared human. Your clothes are stained a dark ichor, sticky and wet. Your hands get the worst of it, drenched in guts and blood.

“Oh god, what did I do?”

Homelander stands over the corpse of the man, some nameless unimportant guy that no one will notice is gone. You feel sick, revolting. Like there’s something rotten inside you, molding over your brain. You so badly want to be pure again.

He whistles, “You really did a number on him.”

You glare at him, fists clenching as you draw your eyebrows together. He can smell the incoming salt water of your tears. Homelander waves his hand dismissively.

“Oh come on, don’t get all weepy. You did a great job.”

You can see the man's skull, patches of hair, and stretched skin covered in a dark slimy red. His face looks like a Rorschach test. You see the curve of his ribs, the burnt disintegrated material of his clothing. His arm has a strange broken quality, it's longer than it should be. It looks oddly animal-like.

This is a great job?

You turn away from the mutilation, sitting on your haunches and cupping your head between your blood-soaked hands. The hot sun beats on your back, heating you from the outside in. You can hear the city breathe around you, people walk past the alleyway like it’s a normal day - to them it is.

“What I’d do?” You mutter to yourself, hating the smell of copper that floods the air, you can practically taste it.

You’re horrified, angry even. He’s robbed you of your life - of humanity. He’s turned you into this- this creature. Homelander on the other hand, is ecstatic. He loves this look on you, this carnage-born god. You are his mirror, his shimmering double that refracts all of him. His movement, his anger, his violence. It's not about good or evil, it just is.

You’re perfect.

He wants to kiss you, taste the blood that’s smeared across your mouth. Consume it, consume you. Sink his teeth into your flesh; tissue, skin, and fat - and have you finally understand. That the very sight of you brings nourishment, and each sacrifice creates a new scar that can be etched into the skin.

“Am I a bad person?” You mumble it into your arms, chewing your lip raw.

He would tell you that even he wasn’t this brutal during his first patrol, but he doesn’t think that would help the situation. He can’t come off too strong, too eager. It’d be weird if he told you how much he wanted to just fuck you against the brick wall, right?

Homelander squats in front of you, pulling your arms down so he could look at your glassy eyes and dirty face.

“You’re so cute.”

You frown, lip trembling at his words. He swipes at your teary cheek with a gloved thumb.

“How is this cute?”

“C’mere,” He doesn’t answer your question, instead he cups your face and kisses your mouth, it’s like he’s trying to eat you. He swears you taste like religion, holy and godlike. He almost moans when his tongue swipes along your bloody lower lip.

His other hand slides down to grip your wrist, tracing your mark with deft gentleness, already familiar with the black ink tattooed on your skin. It makes you shiver, you feel as gross as sin. He’s tender in an awkward way, affectionate even through the bloodshed. He’s the type to tell you he’s going to stab you in the front, before slicing you in the back.

You can’t help the way you relax, collapsing into his chest like he’s comforting. Tucking your nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling his cologne. For a moment, you allow yourself this selfish desire. You ignore the corpse, you ignore the guilt, you let him flood through you - you let him change you. Vought will clean up the mess, get rid of the evidence - scrub you squeaky clean and make sure you’re presentable once again. Like two shiny trophies on the wall.

“You did nothing wrong, you stopped a bad guy and everyone will thank you for it.”

You don’t look him in the eye, keeping your chin down and pressed against his suit.

“Hey, you’re a superhero,” He whispers in your ear, “and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

Perhaps, this is fate, destiny manifested through pre-determined means. You exist to burn, melted down into this new person. Built up again by him.

#val.writes ❦#the boys.✮#the boys x reader #the boys x you #homelander x reader #homelander x you #the homelander #homelander soulmate au

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Note

Also to rephrase what i meant is wednesday x male reader who is like kiryu chan

I live for your energy my friend, I love being reminded of my love for the yakuza series (even the less favoured ones which I think was yakuza 3 I think…my man kiryu didn’t have much to do in that one other then fix peoples shit. Which shouldn’t be his job in the first place.) ichiban is my dumb baby boi, I love him so. He’s the epitome of ‘heart of gold, dumb of ass.’

You don’t have a sense of fashion, no need to worry cuz Wednesday doesn’t have much of one either but she could hold together an outfit for herself but for someone else, not so much. Which made you an eyesore for poor Enid who has to take away that faux gold suit away from you muttering, “no, just-no.”

Other then that, you were what some would consider the strong silent type who no one should fuck with unless they wanna be punched with a bin or even a vending machine. Your freakishly strong for a guy which was an advantage for Wednesday as it meant no one would bother her if her massive guard dog was nearby, staring them down with his resting bitch face. Spoiler: it’s just your face.

Your dream was to run an orphanage, so when parents weekend comes about, you go out of your way to take the younger students who’s parents were unfortunately not alive anymore out to Jericho for the day and buy them whatever they want until the weekend was over. You were the acting older brother figure for a majority of them that even after parents weekend they’d go out of their way to ask you for advice or go with them to Jericho.

Especially when Rave’n comes and they want your opinion but you direct their inquiries to Enid instead from the last time you were left with the responsibility of telling someone how they looked. Wednesday wouldn’t admit it but your tender side for children born from less fortunate beginnings did always warm her coal heart. While you may look like a man with no care, you held the biggest heart in your chest and would bare the weight of the sky if it meant seeing those kids smile.

You also have this random male student in a Leopard print blazer, an eyepatch and a metal baseball bat that is seemingly obsessed with you and would always be raring to fight you whilst hiding in the most estranged places ever…you once found him in your dorm, wearing Wednesday’s clothes and a really shitty wig put into pigtails…what a weird guy…he’s strong and quick you had to hand him that but you felt that you fight better alone.

You’re also quite protective over the people you hold dear; Wednesday, Enid, Thing, Ajax, Bianca,Kent, Divina, Xavier, Eugene, you swore you’d protect them all when the Hyde attacks started picking up. So whenever you found yourself in a situation where the hyped seems himself to be; the sleeves are up to your elbows and your blazer was already on the floor as you prepare to give the son of a bitch an ass beating he wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.

You also wondered why it was that Tyler conveniently got bad bruising on the exact places you punched the Hyde or how he’d often flinch whenever you brushed past him in the street. Wednesday knew and she found it funny to see Tyler scared to death of your inhuman strength. It was entertaining and she would often drag you to weathervane just to see Tyler hold his breath and bite his tongue in your presence.

Many also considered you a leader with your cool headedness and straightforward thinking but you never wanted to be one in the first place, it just didn’t feel right for you to take that position, no matter how many times you were offered it. It wasn’t apart of your plan to become a leader and it never will be.

You made yourself a legacy at Nevermore that many would remember even well after you’ve grown old but still able to pack a fucking punch.

Overall Wednesday was glad to have you as you respected her wishes and desires more so then others because you too wish to have days to yourself and you both knew that you’d always go back to each other when company is highly appreciated.

Also nobody tears up karaoke night like you do. It’s just me stating a well known fact.

#wednesday x male reader #wednesday addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams x male reader #Wednesday Addams fic #Wednesday fic #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday imagine

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babylovepresley · 2 years

Text

thinkin’ about you — elvis presley x reader

summary: you are elvis presley’s former lover… at least you think you are. the year is 1960, and he is finally returning home from the service… but you haven’t heard from him since the day he left memphis and got on that plane nearly two years ago. what is left of you both?

word count: 2k

content warnings: 18+ sexuality mentioned, ANGST, possibly an unhealthy relationship, references to religion and god

read & listen along: https://open.spotify.com/track/1fDFHXcykq4iw8Gg7s5hG9?si=c2I7yoRJQMOSZEIrxLHCsg

writer’s note: hiya lovebugs! this is just a little something i conjured up when i was supposed to be doing homework (hehe), and i thought perhaps you’d all like to suffer with me. it’s not my best work, as i have had quite an overwhelming day and this is the best i could produce. this is my first fic posted, and i truly hope you all enjoy! remember requests are always open, and i am forever sending you all plenty of love and light!

dedicated to: my darling friends that promote my obsession with writing angst, though it hurts them in the end <3 (@eliseinmemphis my sincerest apologies lover)

It’s a cold day in March when he comes home; his hair wispy and long, touching the tip of his forehead beneath the large issued cap. When he first went away, the cap seemed to swallow his sleepy head and make him seem like the boy I first met all those years ago— when life was kind and he smiled with his tongue between his teeth. A patron moves to turn the television up, standing on the counter and nearly knocking over a young man’s grits that sat untouched on his plate. The soldier huffs and puffs as the camera follows him; his lean figure cutting through the tv and leaving an ache in me heart. Did the scars from our childhood playing wear off? Did the inside of his left pinky still glow red and raw from the movement of his ring? Does he still think of me?

He swallows, and my own throat constricts watching him. Life had become so difficult after he left— the beginning of us did not matter, I only wanted to get through to the end. And now we’re here, or rather he is. All I can do is stand and watch in our hometown diner, as he glows for the entire world. My coworker comes up beside me, placing her tray down on the crowded counter and side eyeing me.

“Yes Minny?”

“Sugar, I hate to do this… ‘specially today of all days… but—“ always walking on eggshells, Minny was. In fact, I’ve noticed that every other waitress today has been side-eyeing me with pity; wondering what I must have done to him to be here instead of greeting him with open arms, perpetually on my knees for him. The truth is I never did anything to him… and I guess that’s why he never found it important to write to me.

“You need me to close… don’t you?” I smile. I didn’t have it in me to be cruel right now, though I wanted to scream and cry can’t you see I’m busy lamenting a man I don’t know anymore?

“I’m sorry y/n, it’s just that my daughter wanted to stop by the Graceland gates tonight to.. well.. you know…” she trails off, itching an imaginary scratch behind her neck. It isn’t her fault that her daughter looks at him the same way I did, or still do. It’s been a long time since I’ve laid my eyes on him, and I wonder if they still fill with the warmth and affection I once saw him have for me.

“It’s okay Min, I don’t mind at all! I’ll probably just make a cup of tea for myself and clean the jukebox tonight… have a feeling I finally wanna clear out a certain someone’s records….” I giggle, though I’m laced with a bitter agony in my throat; I never wanted to hear his voice again, but I know one sound falling from his pouty lips would cause me to stare in adoration and declare my god, where have you been?

I turn my head back to the television, because I simply cannot bear not looking at him… not after three years of staring out the window and praying to God that he’d somehow be sitting outside my door, waiting for me all the while. He has changed so much; poised and gifted with the confidence that can only affect a young boy who dreamt of the strength and masculinity he exudes. He left me a scared boy, with heavy shoulders that I ached to massage into a restful stature, and came home a man; broad and unashamed. I simply can’t wrap my head around it as the camera pans to his face, spotted with the cold sting of snowflakes as he nods his head in thanks. It’s ridiculous.. I feel jealous of a force of nature simply because they get to live and die on him; when I have faced far more triumphs and little deaths as a result of his person.

Still, he looks afraid as he shuffles through the crowd of women waiting to grab at him. I feel nauseous just looking at it, and I find myself tugging at my uniform in an attempt to deflect from the obvious want situated in each woman's eyes. Many years ago, I would’ve moved through the sweaty crowd gathered by the gates of that airport, and used my handkerchief to wipe the nervous sweat on his eyebrow; my hands ever-so delicate on his cold cheeks. And he’d look up at me and smile, the apples of his cheeks pressing his eyes into a squint; “you miss me lil?”

But now I stand here, as unknown to the world as the words he said to me the first night he pulled me by bare chest to his and mouthed a sonnet only he could tell. Memphis has changed, he has changed, but I haven’t. Maybe that’s why he didn’t write. Maybe that’s why I’m living in the in between; Elvis’ girl or not? Lover or former flame?

The hours pass by with the creaking stools signaling the end and beginning of each meal, my nails making a dull clack against the cracking counter. Before I knew it, the street lights flickered to life, and my coworkers' cars pulled out of the lot, blowing kisses out their windows in a silly “goodnight!” gesture. The diner is lonely without the murmuring of the town, but I find it to be deeply comforting while I clean. The TV has been turned off, and the jukebox unplugged, leaving me with nothing but my pitiful thoughts and slight hiccups as I cry and clean the corner booth.

In the midst of my cry, for him, for me, for his Mother, and for any semblance of a future I had once dreamt of, I failed to notice the front door being pulled open and the slight ting of the bell. The wind from outside climbed my bare legs as I wiped, shouting out a quick “We’re closed honey, I’m sorry!”. Why look up when I always know who it’ll be— whether it be a neighbor, the town drunk or a church choir member.

“Oh… ‘m.. ‘m sorry” the stranger stumbles out, and I can physically feel the soft tapping of his loafers on the sticky linoleum floor. I’d know that voice in death, when the grim reaper kisses me goodnight, I’d be begging him “please.. let me hear his breath one last time”.

With all of my strength I turn to him, staring down my old hero. My spray bottle has long been abandoned, spilling on the floor beneath me and wetting the tips of my white shoe. I couldn’t care less. Nothing could’ve stopped me from following his voice— nothing could have prepared my heart for the sight of him in front of me. I feel the ache of my brows pulling down on my face, and the cold air drifts through my parted lips to remind me that this is real… he’s here. After all this time, he’s here. I’m silent as I watch him distribute his weight; left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot.

“Ya see me on TV today lil?” His thick voice cuts through the air; still gravelly from the cold morning air he sucked in earlier that day. A part of me wanted to coddle him; coo “oh poor baby” for the pain in his throat. But the other part of me wanted to laugh in his face at the incredulous question. In the end, that’s just what I did.

“Did I- Did I see you on TV Elvis?” I barely manage to get out, as my throat begins to constrict with sobs. Bastard. At least we both are in pain from the words we can’t say, I think to myself.

“W-well I noticed the TV ain’t on.. so I thought I’d ask…”

“You thought you’d ask me if the TV was off because you wanted me to watch you come home today?”

“Baby I know it ain’t been that long,” he chuckles, his hands digging deep into the pocket of his black slacks. I once sewed a hole he tore in those slacks, and I remember the way he kissed my cheek in thanks— I still feel the burn of his lips. “know my girl hasn’t gone all dumb on me”.

My girl. As if he had any right to call me that anymore. My anger bubbles to the surface, as the chemicals I dropped sting my nose. We stand polar opposites of one another. On one end of the diner, we have a lowly waitress who dreamt of a family and a small life but now spends her days covered in bacon grease for the creepy men in town to ogle at. On the other end, with hair still blown back from the influx of winter wind coming through the corner window, stands a god amongst men. He has the world in his hands, and it dawns on me that he could have any family or anyone’s life that he could ever want— small or large it wouldn’t matter, it’s all small to his strong flesh.

Unchanged in my agonizing swirl, I threaten, though no matter how hard I try I could never be crossed with him in tone, “You don’t get to call me that no more Elvis”.

He shuffles uncomfortably, and his lips curl inward with a tremble. He has taken an interest in the floor, and I wonder if he remembers the time he stayed here until 4 am with me scrubbing them down. He looks at the tiles just as intently as he did then, though now it seems like he feels just as dirty as them.

“I ain’t… I m-meant to write you y/n honest—“

“Oh you MEANT to write me, huh?”

“Yes! Yes I-I-I did I just got caught up ‘s all…”

“Caught up?”

‘Yes Lil! Caught up!” he extends his arms out to his sides; desperate for a positive response.

I can’t hold back the building sobs anymore, it hurts too much— makes me want to reach my arms out to him like a child and cry for help. I’ve bared my soul to him in far too many ways, and he deserves to see the mess he’s made of me.

“For two years E?” the tears sting my cheeks, as I hiccup in a breath.

For a moment, I see him take a step toward me. Ever the holder, Elvis always showed love through his touch. There would be nights I’d wake up sobbing and afraid at the idea of never getting to feel the velvety touch of his fingertips in or against me ever again. Those nights still haunt me, and the idea of him touching me is almost too much. No man has touched me since him, and I’ll never want anyone else to ever again. I move from his reach, and walk beside him with a wipe of my nose as he panics.

“B-Baby I tried! T- The Colonel”

“The colonel,” I stop in my tracks and smile spitefully with a small shake of my head “It’s always the Colonel E, isn’t it?”

“Oh c’mon y/n whas’ that supposed to mean?'' he follows behind me as I stomp past him and behind the counter, desperately grabbing at anything to appear unaffected; but he knows me. Elvis knows me more intimately than I know myself, and I’ve come to resent him for it. I can’t bear his cluelessness, and I can’t live with all of this hurt inside of me for any longer.

“ELVIS! He has taken EVERYTHING FROM YOU. Money, your Mother, your life, me! You’ll just let him take and take and take,” I throw the bulk of napkins across the counter and into his chest in anger, though I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt him. Strange how he seemed fine all the while I was dying for a single word from him. “until there’s nothing left of you— of us!”

I move around the counter, and it feels as if I don’t keep moving I’ll collapse in a heap of tears. My finger jabs into his chest, and he flinches with the intrusion. For the first time tonight, I see tears forming in his eyes, yet his stained cheeks indicate they have been falling for a long time as he struggles to inhale from his own pitiful, silent sobs.

“One word from you Elvis, that’s all I wanted.” I sob, barely coherent as I lay my hands on his chest. He grabs them, and the shift in my stomach nearly makes me lurch in pain. I feel him now, so real and warm and so mine. I could never forget his touch, and now that I have it again I doubt I’ll be able to breathe without it. We cry quietly for a moment, holding one another as if we were foreign to each other; like he hasn’t consumed by body and soul whole and left it to rot in his chest.

It’s silent save for his uneven breathing and the gentle scuff of my feet; unable to stay still as my body betrays itself. I pull away, and he mumbles a “no, no honey stay” as I wipe my eyes and regain my strength. He paws at my apron, trying to pluck me closer before I scold him for his mistakes.

“Elvis, please just go. I-I’ve lived without you, I’ve cried each time I saw your house, or-or heard your records. I’ve grieved you before you were even gone, and I know I can do it again. So please baby, please just go” I whimper out, smoothing down my skirt and pinching my thighs beneath the frilly mess. I can’t look at him, though my eyes thirsted for the pinch of his brow for so long.

There are very few women who can say Elvis Presley laid himself in front of her and wept. I’ve seen him cry before, in fear and anger, and each time I have taken him into my arms and quelled him into relief. But nothing could prepare me for the sight laid out before me.

My man, a god, falls to his knees in front of me and cries with outstretched palms, “Do ya think I’ve forgotten ‘bout you?”

His eyes appear to burn as they flutter closed with a gulp, his large hands gripping onto the bottom of my skirt, “Oh God baby, ‘ve messed up somethin’ awful, I know.” he cries out, wiping his nose with his sleeve like a boy. A chuckle builds in my chest at the antic, as it reminds me of the boy I’ve cried for all along. He licks his lips, panicking at the thought of rejection. “ ‘ve always tried to be so good for ya and look what I’ve done now… look what your satnin’s done now…” He chokes out, ever the fallen angel.

His arms wrap around me, and I stumble forward with the force of his pull. It’s no use in fighting, I think to myself, I can never purge myself from the feeling he gives me. I don’t think I’ll ever want to— I can never shed the feel of him. The feel of Elvis; an irrevocable heartbreak. My upper body falls on top of him, my breasts pressed against his strong shoulder as my hands slide flat down his back; the wool of his jacket slightly burning my wrists. I feel his cries against my hips, as his arms lock around the backs of my legs; hands clasped in fear that I’ll soon pull away. His shoulders shake as I lean over him, and chills run down my flesh as his thumbs soothe the backs of my thighs.

Against my skirt he wails, “Kiss me. Please God, kiss my sins away. ‘ve done so bad by you baby— let me know I ain’t the devil incarnate..” his nails dig into the thickness of my thighs in desperation.

Who am I to deny him?

#elvis in my eyes <3 #elvis presley #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis headcanons #elvis fanfiction #austin elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley angst #elvis x reader angst #elvis fanfic

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