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#i thought this up in the middle of the night and then wrote it on my phone enjoy
sylacris · 3 days
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— chrysanthemums.
elbert greetia x gn! reader
content: sfw ; angst ; character study ; mild(?) spoilers for william’s route ; victorian flower language ; self indulgent (screw plot)
(partially) inspired by: tonight you belong to me by patience and prudence
word count: ~754
a/n: first ikevil fic, trying to wrap my head around the characters …
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Of course Elbert knows you belong to Will.
After all, you were the most beautiful when you're with him. He's seen the image many times throughout your stay in the castle. The way you light up when William enters the room, the lift in your voice when speaking to him, the love in your eyes when William is reflected on it.
The way that William is the reason for your beauty.
If the gods pried into his brain and search for the question he's asked the most—the question thought to himself in fitful nights of longing and early morning blues, something that even Elbert feels guilty of admitting through words— it would be:
Why?
Why you? Why William? Why not him-
That was the thing he has been trying to find the answer for ever since his own eyes landed on you that night. A robin caught in a gathering of villains, like a single white rose in a bush of red. He had almost wanted to pluck you and keep you to himself. Until William’s voice chimed in, recognizing you, and you, who shared the same sentiment.
A month passed by in a blur, it was easy for Elbert to get lost in time. But he would always remember the determination in your eyes in that meeting regarding the papers detailing the “crimes” of William Rex. Your eyes shone with a beauty brought out by the King himself.
You'd almost caught him marvelling at the sight of you.
He wanted to help, one way or another. However, the Crown could not move under the name of the Queen, or in large groups due to the risks in secrecy, so he asked Alfons to act in his stead.
“Your ability is suitable for infiltrating the enemy headquarters… May I trouble you to go with them?”
In the end, he's aware of why it was William you chose. It was a fact that he knew deep down in his heart, something he'd rarely acknowledge and yet will resurface everytime his mind wanders to the thought of you.
William Rex is everything that Elbert Greetia isn't.
And in that very fact alone lies Elbert’s own tragedy. One that'll slowly eat him up from the inside until there's nothing left but the remains of a monomanic yearning.
Not every beautiful thing could be his, Alfons would poke in the playful manner that he usually dons. But perhaps his words do hold weight in this situation.
It's alright, he can settle for watching from afar.
(No he can't. His curse could never allow it. He wants, he wants, he wants... And that was how his destiny wrote itself in tragedy.)
Elbert knows of the fact that he's awful at suppressing his tendencies. Hands that can't be kept to himself, always wandering to something he'd desire, it was usually a question of when he'll have it- rarely a question of if, up until now at least.
Those same hands that desired more, now held yours in a slow waltz.
"Al informed me that William went out on a mission... I was… quite surprised to find out that you did not come along with him."
"It's because it's quite late, and William insisted that I stay behind tonight."
step, step, step.
A dance across the garden, that was his invitation. Indulging in the opportunity that arose in William's absence. It was Elbert’s own way of satiating his want.
(though it will never be enough)
Some part of him feared that by interacting with you like this, he'd yet again desire for more. More than a longing stare across the dining table, more than a dance in the garden, more than just his hand in yours.
“How about you, Lord Elbert? You seem troubled these days.”
“...Ah, how so?”
And just as both of you reached the middle of the pavilion, you let go. The coldness setting on his hands faster than he'd like in the absence of your warmth.
And in the next breath, you'd take your leave- greeting the wistful earl a goodnight. Heels clicking as you step out of the pavilion and into the moonlight, until you were nothing but a distant figure, one he did not take his eyes off until you'd reach the confines of the castle, your silhouette disappearing from his sight
And once again, he stood alone in the garden pavilion.
The yellow chrysanthemums looked bitter under the moonlight, and he knows that those same flowers would never bloom in an azure hue.
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© sylacris. 2024 —
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sequinsmile-x · 2 days
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Fallacy
He loved her laugh, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever someone else drew it out of her, especially when that person happened to be a handsome cop. He knows he had no right to feel this way, that she was his friend and nothing more, but it makes fury he knows she doesn’t deserve burn in his veins.
Aaron gets jealous when a local cop flirts with Emily, and his reaction changes their relationship forever.
-x-
Hi friends,
It's been a little while since I wrote a getting together fic or jealous Aaron, so iI thought I'd combine them together for you <3
As always, please let me know what you think! -x-
Words: 3.4k
Warnings: none
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
He loved her laugh. 
It was loud. Bright. Beautiful. Something that never failed to make his day when he heard it, always drawing him out of whatever situation he was in, providing momentary relief before reality kicked back in. 
Aaron remembered the first time he’d heard it, how she’d clearly tried to keep it stuck in her chest as she watched Derek and Spencer wage a prank war against each other across their desks. She’d been stuck in the middle of it, still new to the team and unsure of her place in it, ducking down as something flew from Spencer’s desk to Derek’s. It was her laugh that had dragged his attention to what was going on, pulled him out of his seat as he stepped out of his office to see what his team was doing. Her eyes had gone wide as if she’d been caught out misbehaving by a teacher, her laugh dying in her throat as she looked down at her desk. 
He still hadn’t trusted her, still unsure what her intentions were, but for a reason he didn’t understand at the time, that moment had been the first chink in his armour. It was the first of many. Emily seemed to wear him down without meaning to, her smile and laugh and her kindness so natural to her that he knew she was not doing it intentionally. He often found himself having to hide the fact she made him smile just by being her. She’d not only destroyed his armour, but crawled under his skin. She made him feel things he knew he shouldn’t - especially back when he’d still been married to Haley. 
Somewhere along the way, Emily became his best friend. 
She’d helped hold him together after Haley’s death. She’d been there with food most evenings. She’d brought over new clothes for Jack as he grew too fast for Aaron to keep up with. She gave them her time, sat with them and encouraged them to carry on living in the moments when it felt the most impossible. When he looked back on it, he thinks that was when he started to fall in love with her. 
At first, he thought it was borne out of proximity. A natural reaction to the kindness she’d shown him and his son, but he quickly learnt it was more than that. He looked for her in every room. Sought her out whenever she was nearby, and he wanted more. He wanted to be with her, to know how it felt to sleep curled up around her in bed. To know how it felt to kiss her, to know if it was even more than he’d built it up to be in his head. 
There was one evening, just before Ian Doyle tore through their lives, when he’d been home late from the office. Emily had offered to look after Jack and the little boy and encouraged it, his love of Emily well known. When Aaron got home he heard them laughing together, the sound drawing him towards Jack’s bedroom. He found them curled up on Jack’s bed, the little boy leant against her as she read him his favourite book. 
He’d almost asked her out that night, his heart hammering in his chest as she smiled at him and took a glass of wine from him after she’d snuck out of Jack’s room once the little boy was asleep. Aaron couldn’t say why he’d backed out, his nerves getting the better of him, a voice in the back of his head that sounded remarkably like his father telling him that he wasn’t good enough for her. That she could do better. 
It was something that only seemed to be confirmed when she started to pull away from him and Jack in the weeks that followed. He now knew it was an attempt to protect him and his son, that she feared more than anything that Ian would figure out how important they’d become to her, but at the time he was sure it was her way of letting him down gently because she’d figured him out. 
When she was in Paris he missed her more than he thought he would. He still looked for her in every room. Still sought her out. But she wasn’t there. He missed her laugh, her smile. The way she made him feel. He’d sit by her grave for hours some days even though he knew it was empty, idly hoping that he’d feel close to her. That he’d find some kind of peace he always felt when he visited Haley. He repeatedly told himself that when Emily came back, if not even an option he could consider, he’d ask her out. He’d kiss her and find it in himself to be as brave as she always was. 
Then she came back and she was different, a ghost of herself as if she really had died on that cold floor in Boston. He watches as she tries to make everyone else feel better, as she tries to be the person she used to be because that’s what they wanted, and he promises himself he won’t expect that of her too. He’s content to be her friend, to be the person she opens up to after he gently convinces her to start taking therapy seriously, and ultimately he knows he’d just be her friend forever if it meant she was happy. 
He tenses as she laughs, the sound travelling across the precinct they were in, and he clenches his teeth as he packs the case files away in his briefcase. He looks up and sees her standing a few paces away from one of the cops who’d been flirting with her since they’d arrived to help with the case they’d just closed. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she laughs, her lips pressed together as she nods at whatever is being said to her. 
He loved her laugh, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever someone else drew it out of her, especially when that person happened to be a handsome cop. He knows he had no right to feel this way, that she was his friend and nothing more, but it makes fury he knows she doesn’t deserve burn in his veins, chased by the love he endlessly felt for her. He reminds himself that she is the most important part in all of this, a mantra he repeats to himself as he feels himself calm down, his shoulders loosening slightly as she walks closer to him, the cop still by her side. 
Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful that it was a local case, wanting nothing more than to simply go home and pretend he hadn’t just watched someone flirt with the woman he loves all day. 
“How about it Agent Prentiss?” The police officer says, his eyebrow raised as they come to a stop just a few paces away from him, “If we’re done here, I can take you out to that dinner you still haven’t agreed to.” 
Emily chuckles, a quick smile flitting across her face as she clears her throat, and she starts to respond but Aaron cuts her off. The fury he’d barely tampered down returning with a vengeance, bursting out of him before he can stop it. 
“If you’re done flirting, Agent Prentiss, it’s time we left,” he says through gritted teeth. He realises he’s shown his hand the second she turns to look at him, the way her eyes briefly widen, a frown painted across her because of how he’s spoken to her, hurt flashing in her eyes. He tenses, his jaw tight as he picks up his briefcase and starts to walk away as if he hadn’t spoken, “I’ll see you back at the office.”
He pretends he doesn’t feel her gaze on his back as he leaves, her concern and confusion burning through his clothes and scraping at his skin.
___
She feels unsettled. 
The moment she got back to her apartment she started the routine she’d come up with years ago that helped her decompress after a hard day. She immediately threw her hair into a loose bun and ran a bath, the water so hot she hissed as it touched her skin, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air as she settled into it. Once she’d climbed out of the bath, baby hairs curling at the top of her neck, she’d changed into her comfiest sweats and she ordered in her favourite comfort food, settling on the couch with it when it arrived. She still feels unsettled even when Sergio joins her, his head butting against her hand the moment she’s finished eating. 
Emily sighs and scratches his head, “Men are so stupid sometimes, Serg,” she says, smiling when he settles into her lap, “No offence.” 
She was worried about Aaron. It was unlike him to snap at her like he had. It hadn’t happened in years, since he didn’t trust her or her intentions, and she hated it. Hated the reminder of what it felt like before he became one of the most important people in her life. 
Before she knew how it felt to be in love with him. 
It had happened slowly, sneaking up on her until it pulled her under, a moment of painful clarity when he was missing after Foyet had attacked him. The relief she’d felt when she found him in the hospital was short-lived when he had to send away Jack and Haley. She’d eventually gone home that evening when he asked her to, her heart heavy as she could suddenly name the feeling she’d harboured for him for months. The love she felt suddenly so much a part of her it was suffocating, something she had to get used to breathing around, a part of her chest that she didn’t know was hollow full of him and his little boy. 
She did all she could to be there for them after Haley died. She put all of her love into grilled cheese sandwiches and dinosaur-covered t-shirts that saw in the store that made her think of Jack. She loved them from a distance even though they were right there, well aware it was not the right time to love them the way she wanted to. Just as things were starting to look up, just as she thought he was about to ask her out, the look in his eyes undeniable, Ian came out of the shadows. 
She thought of Aaron and Jack constantly when she was in Paris, thought of them every time she heard a child laugh or saw a family. She’d close her eyes and think of having them there with her, of showing them the streets she’d fallen in love with when she was a child herself, the memories that were now tainted by the time she’d spent there recovering. When she got home, Aaron was right there. He was next to her, he was her best friend, but she worried that the chance for more had passed them by. That it had become yet another almost in her life, something she’d missed out on as penance for her past decisions. 
She kept trying to figure out what happened. How she’d gone from politely nodding and laughing at whatever the cop flirting with her was saying as she tried to sneak glances at Aaron when he wasn’t looking, to him snapping at her. She’d tried to ask him, but he wouldn’t talk to her about it, wouldn’t even look at her as she followed him out of the precinct they’d been working in for a few days. 
She blows out a breath and shakes her head, scratching behind Sergio’s ears one more time before she stands up, determined to get a glass of wine. She pauses as she reaches for the fridge door, her eyes fixed on a drawing Jack had done for her, it’s bright, crudely drawn, figures standing out against the general aesthetic of her apartment.  He’d told her that the three people in the middle of the drawing were her, him and Aaron, his smile wide and proud as she took it and said she’d put it on her fridge. 
It was like a snapshot of a reality she didn’t have. A taster of a life she could have with them if she actually did something about it. Images of a home they shared scattered with drawings from him and children who were half her and half Aaron, their faces slightly out of focus.
She closes her eyes and looks down at the floor for a moment, weighing up her options. She could stay here, have a glass of wine and snuggle up with Sergio, or she could go check on Aaron. She looks at the picture on the fridge door again and nods, the decision made in an instant as she grabs her phone from the counter and heads towards the front door. As she’s slipping on her shoes she hears Sergio meow, she huffs out a laugh as she stands up straight again, grabbing her keys from the side.
“Sorry, Serg,” she says, bending down as he runs over to scratch his head, smiling softly before she leaves the apartment, her voice soft as she talks to herself, “I’ve got to go check on the other guy in my life.” 
___
Aaron groans when he hears the knock on his door.
He shakes his head, his plan for an evening alone gone. He frowns as he looks through the peephole and sees Emily. He pauses for a moment before he opens the door, the guilt he’d been pushing down all evening working its way back up his throat, the way he’d spoken to her making his stomach churn. 
“Emily-” he starts as he opens the door but she walks right past him, her arms crossed over her chest as she turns to look at him.
“Are you okay?” She asks, the drive to his having made her a little more antsy than she had been when she left her apartment. 
He sighs and closes the door, “I’m fine, Emily,” he says far too quickly and he turns to look at her when she laughs humourlessly, clearly not believing him. It makes irritation lick at his insides, “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a date to get ready for?” 
The smile slips from her face and she frowns at the bitterness in his voice, her eyebrows furrowed as she tries to figure out what he’s talking about.
“A date? What are you…” she trails off as it hits her and she scoffs, shaking her head at him, “That cop from today?” She asks, his answer a simple averting of his gaze, his eyes fixed on her floor, “Aaron, I never agreed to go on a date with him.” 
He looks up sharply, his eyes meeting hers as the fight drains out of him. He swallows thickly, treacherous hope sparking in his chest, “Wh…what?” 
She watches him carefully, her hands on her hips as she looks him up and down, sees a sense of uncertainty wash over him that she’d never seen on him before. He was usually so confident, self-assured in a way that she found endlessly attractive. It takes her a moment for her to realise that she’s the one who’s done this to him, that the thought of her going on a date with someone else had reduced him to this. She chokes out a laugh and shakes her head, stepping closer to him, pushed forward by confidence she knew would be fleeting. It had passed her by so many times before, he had passed her by, and she wasn’t going to let it happen this time. 
She feels her resolve snap. A delicate thread that had been fraying for longer than she cared to admit giving way under the weight of everything she felt for him, the love she could no longer ignore. 
“God, you’re such an idiot,” she says, closing the gap between them, her lips pressed firmly against his before he can respond. 
It takes him a second to respond, one of the longest of her life, but then his hands are on her back, pulling her impossibly closer as he kisses her back just as intensely.
It’s new, unexplored territory as it answers questions they’d both had for years, her tongue licking across the seam of his lips before he opens them, the sigh that passes from her mouth to his reward. It somehow feels like coming home, like what they’d both been walking towards for years, a familiarity about it that feels perfect, as if they’d been made for each other. 
He pulls back when the need for air becomes too much, dizzy on her and the lack of oxygen as he rests his forehead against hers, “Emily…”
“If it isn’t clear,” she says, her chest heaving up and down as she looks at him, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place, “You’re the only person I want to go on a date with.” 
He swallows thickly, “You…you never said anything.” 
She smiles, cupping the back of his head and stamping her lips against his again, chasing the taste of him, her new addiction she knows she’ll never have enough of, “Neither did you.” 
“The timing never felt right,” he says, the words sounding lame even to his ears, and she chuckles at him, “I didn’t…” he clears his throat and rests his forehead against hers, “Never in a million years did I think you’d want me back. You could have anyone you wanted.” 
It makes her ache, his self-depreciation something she’ll file away for later, something she’ll prove to him again and again is misplaced until he believes her. 
“I want you,” she says, pushing his hair away from his forehead, “I have done for a long time.” 
He sighs, all the missed opportunities, the time they’d lost weighing heavily on his shoulders for a moment. He shakes it off, lets himself feel the way she’s pressed up against him, how her breath skips across his face. 
“We have a lot to talk about,” he says quietly, skating his hand up and down her back, “You could never be…”
He drifts off, unsure how to say it, how to tell the woman he’s in love with, the woman he’s kissed twice, how he feels about her. She smiles at him, understanding he’d lived most of his life without shining at him as she nods. 
“I know,” she says, “You’re very important to me too.” 
It’s not what she wants to say, not by a long shot, but it will do for now. He kisses her, the first of many he knows that he’ll initiate, and he pulls her into a hug, his chin on top of her head as she snuggles into his chest. 
“Will you stay tonight?” He asks, and she pulls back, her eyebrow raised as he realises how it sounded, “Not like that. I just mean-”
“Of course I’ll stay,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder, sighing as she sinks into his embrace, “But you’ll have to take me on a date first before I put out.” 
He laughs and she joins in, both of them hiding their joy in each other, her face against his shoulder and his against her hair, aware of Jack sleeping just down the hall even in the bubble they’d found themselves in. 
“Is tomorrow too soon?” He asks, and she tilts her head to look up at him, her cheeks going red at the intensity of his gaze, the words he hadn’t said painted all over his face. 
“For what?” 
He smiles softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes that makes her stomach flip, “For our date. We could go for dinner?” 
She grins widely and pulls him into a searing kiss, her hands still tangled in his hair when it ends. She knows it’s the only answer he needs, but she replies anyway, warm and content in his arms as she nods against him.
“It’s a date.” 
-x-
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iluvmattsbeard · 3 hours
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2 on (c.s)
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master list
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: smut/smoking/swearing
preview: you’ve been stressing out about everything lately. you and your best friend Chris decided to hang out. he has an idea to help you with your stress. later on, you wake up to see videos and photos on your phone from the night before leaving you flustered.
a/n: LIKES, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED! was obsessed with this song in middle school with no idea wtf it was talking about. now, i want to feel like this song all the time 💀 i wrote this because i saw someone on here say they would want to have high sex with Chris so i took it into my own hands to write the fantasy out. - L 🤍
it was a Saturday night as you laid there in bed scratching your head in frustration. you were currently in college, your work has been piling up having you stressed. you stare at your computer with an irritated look as you look at the new assignments that have been added. “more?!” you groan. you shut your computer as you look at the ceiling and sigh, “how the fuck am i suppose to get through this?” you whisper to yourself. school was not your strong suit.
when you lay there in your thoughts, you hear your phone ring. you pick it up speaking, “hey Chris.” “hey Y/n. what you up to right now?” he says. you let out a sigh, “busy with assignments. these teachers are piling it on me.” you say. “oh so you’re busy right now?” he asks. you look at your closed computer as you sigh, “not really. i just had given up.” you hear him let out a soft chuckle, “well i wanted to hang out if you’re down.” he says.
“i could use a breather.” you say looking at the clock on your wall, “i could stop by for a bit. maybe i’ll make you do my work.” you say jokingly. “absolutely not Y/n.” he says making you laugh. “i was just joking. i’ll be there in a bit.” you say getting up from your bed. “alright i’ll see you.” he says before hanging up.
you throw on a jacket and some sweatpants before picking up your car keys and head over to Chris’ house. when you arrive, you get out your car and look at yourself in your car window. even if you were just hanging out, didn’t mean you couldn’t look cute. you then head over to his front door and ring the door bell. Chris opens the door immediately greeting you with a smile, “hey come in.” he says opening the door more to let you in. you walk in as he closes the door behind you.
you collapsed on the couch, laying your head back on the pillow as he sits on the couch across from you. “what’s wrong y/n?” he asks concerned, looking at you. you let out a sigh before speaking, “i don’t know if i can keep up with all the assignments. the only reason why i’m in college is because i want to make my parents proud. not because i want to in general.” his eyes stay on you, “well you need to give yourself breaks you know that right?” he says with a soft chuckle. you look up at him as you give a blank stare, “i don’t think i have time for that.” you say. he shrugs, “hey i mean you’re here now.” he says with a slight smile.
you roll your eyes before speaking, “yeah i’m here as my assignments are at home piled up. waiting for me to complete them.” he lets out a scoff with a smile, “well, you can’t just force to overwork yourself.” he says getting up. “where are you going?” you ask with curiosity. “to go get something.” he replies walking to the hallway. you sat there as you look at your hands. eventually, he comes back with a bag. “what’s that?” you say seeing him sit back down in front of him.
“something that’ll help you relax.” he says pulling out another bag that had chunks of weed in it. your eyes widen a bit staring at it, “since when do you smoke?” you ask. he smiles a bit at your question, “doesn’t matter.” he says opening the grinder that was on the table. he puts some pieces in it before shutting it and twisting it, making the pieces loose. “well i’m curious because why haven’t i noticed.” you ask with a laugh. “that scent is so strong.” he was focused on the grinder for a few minutes as he opens it, placing it on the table. you sit there as you watch him place the weed into some paper. he rolls it perfectly. you could tell he did this often. he looks at you with a smirk, “do you want me to help make the stress go away?” he asks.
you look into his eyes confused a bit. what do you mean he helps you? wouldn’t it be the weed helping? you thought. “uh i don’t know i’ve never done this before.” you say fixing your posture. “do you trust me?” he asks in a low tone. his eyes did not move from your as he plays with the joint in his hand. you gulp as you nod, “yes i trust you.” he grins as he places the joint in between his lips and lights it up. he inhales as he stands up and steps in front of you. he places a hand under your chin, lifting it to look up at him. your head was lined up with his crotch perfectly. you look up at him and stare at him. his hand held onto your jaw as his lips came inches closer from yours. you open your mouth slightly as he blows the smoke into your mouth.
he stays close to your lips as you inhale. he watches your face closely as you let out the smoke lightly. a grin appears from his mouth. you look into his eyes and at his lips. the scent that came from his mouth, caused by the weed, was intoxicating. he stands back up straight, still looking down at you before passing the joint to you. you take it as he goes and sits back down across from you, repeating the same actions again, making himself his own. you sat there taking hits as you let it cloud your mind. it really was helping everything ease. after he was done, he lights it up and starts doing the same as you. he sat there, leaned back, taking hits.
it was silent the whole time as you sat there in your now cleared mind. you felt your eyes start to get heavy. you tap your joint on the ash tray as you felt Chris’ eyes on you intensely. you look up at him as he’s leaned back with his eyes also heavy. it was extremely attractive. the way he licked his lips slightly as he kept eye contact. you felt a knot in your stomach. “is it helping?” he asks with a slight rasp in his low voice. “yeah it really is.” you say quietly. you felt yourself overheating. “are you okay?” he asks.
“y-yeah! i’m great.” you stutter out slightly. he lets out a soft laugh as he puts out his joint. you do the same before taking off your hoodie. mid way doing it, you forgot you had no shirt under. Chris stares at you with his heavy clouded eyes as his jaw clenches. “i forgot i didn’t have a shirt.” you say quietly. a sly smile appears from him as he speaks, “i don’t mind.” you look into his eyes again as you stared at him eagerly. “why don’t you come here?” he says with his arms out on each side of him, on the top of the couch, leaned back. you gulp as you stand up walking over to him. he sits up placing his hands on your hips as he pulls you down onto his lap.
he looks at your tits as they sat perfectly in your bra. he then gets closer to them as he leaves soft wet kisses on them. you felt your stomach have the same knot when he does so. “you’re so beautiful.” he lets out looking up at you as he continues kissing up from your tits to the side of your neck. your breathing started to get hitched as you shift slightly on top of him. his hands were rubbing the sides of your body as he then started to suck on your neck. your heavy eyes gave in shut as you threw your head back slightly, letting out a quiet moan. you felt him get hard beneath you.
he chuckles a bit in the crook of your neck, “you like that?” he says pulling away, looking at the marks he left on your skin. you weakly open your heavy eyes and look at him as you nod. “do you want me to help you more get rid of the stress?” you answer with no hesitation, “yes please Chris.” he smirks before carrying you, leading you into his room. he lays you on the bed as he hungrily attaches his lips back onto your chest as he trails down his kisses down to your lower stomach. he was taking his time admiring your body. he then tugs down your sweatpants, throwing them onto the floor. his kisses still trailed down your body as he starts to kiss in between your thighs. you looked down at him as you feel yourself start to get wet.
he then places a kiss on top of your clothed core as his eyes looked up at you. you bit your lip softly as you felt yourself flinch a bit from the action. he then moves his eyes back down to what he was doing as he pulls down your now soaked panties. you felt the cold air hit your aching core. he licks his lips looking at your plump cunt. he immediately shoves his face in between your legs as you gasp softly from the sudden action. “C-Chris.” you stutter out. you shut your eyes and tangled your hand in his hair. it’s like his tongue knew what to do so well.
he knew what parts would make you go crazy. he swirled his tongue on your clit as you grip onto his hair, pushing your hips up, burying his face more into you. you could feel his slight stubble on his face as he eats you out. “fuck Chris. your tongue feels so good.” you moan out. he smirks a bit as he pulls himself away. your pussy ached at the action.
you look at him with your clouded eyes as he does the same licking his lips. “sit up.” he demands. you do as he says as his eyes still admire your body. “take it off.” he says pointing at your bra. without breaking eye contact, you put your hands behind your back as you unclasp your bra, letting it fall off your chest. he grins as he takes in the sight from the slight bounce your tits made from being released. “you’re perfect.” he says taking off his shirt. you trail your eyes from his eyes, down to his body. he pulls down his sweats as he reveals a hard imprint in his boxers. you sit yourself on the edge of the bed as he gets his crotch closer to you in front of your face.
he grabs your phone as you look up at him. “i want to be able to capture this. maybe next time you’re stressed, you can look back at these.” he says looking down at you through the camera. you pull down his boxers as his dick springs up from being released. you gulp staring at the veiny cock. his tip was oozing pre cum as you licked your lips. he takes his cock into his hand, “stick your tongue out.” he demands. you do as he says as he slaps it lightly on your tongue, taking a picture. you see a slight smirk appear on his face as you suddenly push your mouth onto him. he groans at the sudden action as he watches as you sucked him off. he places his free hand on your cheek as he speaks, “you’re so pretty with my dick in your mouth.” your eyes were looking up into his as he continues to watch. you picked up the pace as you pushed him deeper down your throat. he wraps your hair around his hand as he grips it, suddenly thrusting in your mouth causing you to gag.
he takes a picture of you gagging on his dick as tears rolled down your cheeks. he moans lowly, “you take it so good.” after a bit, he eventually pulls you away from his cock as he lays you down. he automatically lines himself up in front of your entrance as he takes another photo. he then pushes into you slowly as he began to stretch you out. “oh fuck.” he lets out. he takes another picture as his cock is partially hidden inside your core. your folds hugged his length perfectly. he puts down your phone as he began to slam himself into you, spreading your legs apart. you scream from pleasure with your eyes shut.
“fuck y/n. you feel so good.” he moans with the same raspy voice. it only made you more turned on. he puts his hand down to your clit as he moved his thumb in a circular motion on it. you moan loudly, “y-yes Chris keep doing that.” “you like that huh? you aren’t thinking about anything else hm?” he says thrusting into you deeply. “n-no. only you.” you moan softly. he smirks continuously thrusting. you were kept moaning repeatedly as he hit your g spot constantly. you couldn’t take it anymore. you arch your back as you moan out, releasing all over his cock.
“that’s it baby. cum all over this dick.” he says as he grunts gripping onto your legs that were on his shoulders. you laid there as you watched him get closer to his high. he suddenly pulls out quickly as he shoots his warm liquid all over your stomach.
*time skip*
you start to wake up as you flutter your eyes open slowly. you let out a stretch as you looked around. you forgot you spent the night with Chris because he didn’t want you driving home. you turn your head to see him laid on his stomach shirtless snoring. you laugh quietly at him. you realized you didn’t have clothes on, your mind instantly flooded with what happened last night. you pick up your phone as you unlocked it, going to your camera roll.
the photos that Chris took popped up as your eyes widen and your cheeks turned red. you put your phone onto your chest as you looked up at the ceiling, remembering what he said, “maybe next time you’re stressed, you can look back at these.” you gulp at the moment that replayed in your head.
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a/n: i hope you enjoyed this! i’m really appreciating the support from a lot of you guys. it really brightens up my day! - L 🤍
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maxineholtzmann · 3 months
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Eddie was having the best night of his life on stage, jumping and whirling with his guitar, fingers flying over the frets as he pulled off solo afyer solo. It was the absolute best he had ever played and he had never felt so free. Then, one miscalculated landing was all it took for him to end up sprawled on the stage, completely unconcious.
The EMTs rushed up from where they were stationed on the wings of the stage, the crowd falling silent as they checked Eddie out.
Eddie slowly came to, looking up at the strong angular features and perfectly coiffed hair of the paramedic above him. Wow, he’s hot, Eddie thought. Still out of it and not sure what happened or where he was, Eddie burst out with “Wow it’s not my birthday is it? Why did you guys get me a stripper?”
“Eddie, that’s an actual paramedic oh my god,” Gareth said from where he was hovering behind hot paramedic guy.
Eddie scoffed, “No one this hot becomes an actual paramedic, Garebear. Now just help me sit up, big boy, and I’ll give you all the lap you can handle dancing in.”
The paramedic laughed, blushing a little as he pushed Eddie back down. “I’m flattered but I am an actual paramedic. You hit your head pretty hard here, Eddie. I’m going to need you to stay down while my partner gets the backboard and everything. We’re going to have to take you to the hospital.”
The paramedic’s partner arrived, a tall woman he called “Robin” and Eddie remembered where he was and what had happened. To say he was mortified was an understatement. He answered their questions and said nothing more as they brought him to the hospital.
It was just a concussion but they wanted to observe him overnight so Eddie was sat up in his hospital room, running over the embarassment in his head. He heard a knock on the door before it opened a little. The hot paramedic from earlier poked his head in.
“Hey, my shift is done and I just uh…wanted to check on how you were doing?” The guy seemed a bit sheepish.
“Oh, yeah, uh hi, come on in,” Eddie said, beckoning the hot paramedic in. He came to stand at the end of Eddie’s bed, large hands gripping the footboard.
“I just really want to apologize for earlier,” Eddie started to say.
At the same time, the paramedic said, “My name’s Steve and do you wanna go for coffee when you’re not concussed?”
“Wait, what? Really?” Eddie asked, worried he was halluncinating.
“I’m not promising a lap dance, big boy, but I’d like to take you for coffee if you’re interested,” hot paramedic—Steve—smiled.
“Definitely interested,” Eddie said, smiling back.
Even with the concussion, it had still turned out to be the best night of his life.
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ofbakerst · 3 months
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when watson tells him he has to return to the hotel to console a dying englishwoman, & holmes knows this may be the last time they will see each other, his face softens into the slightest of wistful smiles, like he's seeing all the things he loves about watson, his kindness, bravery, loyalty, trust, and then he just turns to go! like he's already said his own secret little goodbye that watson doesn't know about & now it's time to move on to the next thing
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wheelofmeta · 1 month
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An interesting thing I'm kind of sad Robert Jordan didn't do is have Berelain, instead of going with Perrin and then having the nonsense that is the love triangle plotline with him and Faile, is have it be she goes with Mat to get Elayne/end up in the Ebou Dar plotline.
Berelain in particular involved in Ebou Dar would get interesting, both in the context of her interacting with Tyelin (both rulers of weak nations, but Berelain arguably in a much stronger position due to her connection to Rand versus Altara's isolation at large at that point). On top of that, if say, Berelain and Mat are involved does Tyelin still target Mat? Or does she leave be since Berelain is the ruler of another country? If she's kept there post-Seanchan attack (say she misses the Traveling ala Mat for some reason, such as having left to run an errand and mistimed things), her and Tuon interacting (both claiming ancestry from Hawkwing). To do this it would make most sense to make the love triangle plotline a matter of Berelain/Mat/Tuon rather than the canon situation, but that could get interesting.
Berelain is a city-state rule who is an ally of the Dragon Reborn and respected by him, who claims to be descended from Hawkwing, and makes use of an Aes Sedai advisor. Tuon is the heiress to a continent spanning empire (and eventual Empress) who is an enemy of Rand's, and owns a former Aes Sedai damane. If Mat's say, already in a relationship/getting somewhere with Berelain, but also has the prophesy with Tuon hanging over his head, how does that go? Or if RJ had decided on this sort of thing, would he have made the prophesy more ambiguous to make Mat be guessing which it's supposed to be about? Would it have still be the canon one and Mat's reluctant/unwilling to involve himself with Berelain as a result?
Also Mat has his own connection to Hawkwing due to being the initial Hornsounder and the way it feels at times like Hawkwing and a past incarnation of Mat's probably lead opposing armies at least some point. That connection is the one that Tuon picks up on rather than Mat's connection to Rand, which always amused me since Mat does arguably have a 'oh fuck' reaction to both questions but she misreads him on the Rand one.
(Honestly it's kind of impressive at no point during the traveling with the show arc did anyone slip up and allow Tuon to realize Mat and Rand do know each other)
It would have been super interesting to see how Tuon would have reacted to Berelain, and it's a genuine pity that in canon we don't get to see how she or the major Seanchan nobility react to her (yes she does interact with some Seanchan at one point but that's left sort of just with a comment and no further which I feel was a waste). Would they take offense and call her a liar? Or would they be more ambivalent/leery of doing that since it's not impossible? It's certainly unlikely, but not impossible (as is one can easily make the claim that there's no reason anyone in the Westlands should trust the Seanchan claims because it had been a thousand years and the reality is even if the Seanchan empire started out ruled by a member of Hawkwing's family, that specific family line could have died out). They may decide she's a liar since it's more politically valuable (if they agree she is, then it causes some issues for the Seanchan invasion justification) but there also is the possibility they wouldn't.
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hibiscuslynx · 1 year
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i keep imagining the statehouse as this huge house in the middle of nowhere. the entire property is in the middle of a grassland—yellow-green grass that reaches up to your knees kind of grassland. the plains. and there's a fenced off backyard behind the statehouse, but not more than a few hundred feet after it there's a forest—a temperate deciduous forest, like you find in the eastern U.S., with a creek a little ways in. venture deeper and you'll find a river. there's a mountain backdrop as well, and you know they're huge mountains, but they're so far away they appear a little small.
the house itself is... queen anne meets folk victorian-ish. shades of golden brown and white. there's a paved road leading up to it and a parking lot off to the side, about the size of a decently sized high school parking lot. and the road ends at the house. if you keep driving the other way, though, you eventually make it to town. a fairly urban city, with your standard fast food joints and stores and gas stations and whatnot. it's not the heart of a metropolis, not the suburban edges of it, but a decently populated urban city with a freeway or two running through it. somehow, somewhere, after a bit of an elevation drop maybe, absolutely rural plains gives way to the city. blink and you'll miss it, except no matter what you do, you'll always miss it.
the thing is, i keep imagining the statehouse and the land surrounding it as this little pocket in time and space, that exists on vaguely the same line as where central time meets eastern. the states are immortal, and that's practically magic, so why can't the statehouse be magic as well?
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dhmis-autism · 9 months
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SORRY. JUST REALIZED I ORIGINALLY SKETCHED THE STUFF FROM THAT LAST WIP POST IN. MARCH.
GODDDD...
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#I GUESS MY WRIST FUCKING UP PUT ME FURTHER BACK THAN I THOUGHT#but also like. i was JUST talking about it in chat. i have a comic about the Three Of Them that i wrote in a frenzy in FEBUARY.#by the time i rewrote the dialogue and figured out the ending it was SEVEN FUCKING PAGES. SOLID.#OF JUST SCRIPT.#I STILL HAVENT EVEN FINISHED SKETCHING IT. YOU GUYS ARE NOT SEEING THAT SHIT UNTIL 2024#sometimes an idea of them will grasp me and i will just write the script out in the middle of the night#I realistically. dont even know if you guys are gonna like my scripted stuff.#the first scripted thing i wrote was a yellow&duck comic that im STILL SKETCHING BACKGROUNDS ON#i could be really bad at writing for them. i could totally not get them at all.#but hey!#we'll see when we see I guess#BUT YEAH UH. SORRY FOR LITERALLY ALL I POST BEING WIPS NOWADAYS I AM JUST WORKING ON LIKE 5 DIFFERENT DRAWINGS AT ONCE#STILL TRYING TO GET MY SPRING STUFF DONE. AND ITS ALMOST FALL. SO :]#I JUST CARE SO MUCH ABT THOSE PUPPETS DAWG I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS FOR THEM#I HAVE!!! EVEN MORE DRAWINGS THAT I JUST HAVENT SHARED!!! bc i either made them for something real specific in the discord#or bc theyre phone doodles and i dont think theyre that great. or bc i made them just for a friend and thats like. theirs now kjdhkjdfhs#a lotta times once i finish drawing smth for a friend ill just never post it bft. so its just like. for that one thing and nothing else#ANYWAYS HAPPY 3 AM IM FORCING MYSELF TO GO TO BED#AND I STILL HAVE THE ANIMATIONS#AND THE FANART FOR LIKE 5 FICS I WANNA DO#OHHH GOD CMONNN BRO IM NEVER FINISHING ANYTHING#my postings
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boypussydilf · 10 months
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HEY. look at the p5 fic me and @repugnantgumbo wrote. it’s about sumi and futaba chasing akira down and forcing him to talk about his feelings (specifically, post-shidos palace pre-mementos depths.) it’s both funny and emotional and we’re proud of it
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tvrningout · 3 months
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i drank some wine, got possessed with the need to write about alvina and levina bc they're gonna be important for ciaran's story as well as the overarching story, hit a lil wall bc it became more like a scene out of a book than an info post, and now i'm like. what do i do :' )
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breha · 11 months
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the dubai penthouse isn't an octavia butler ethically-fraught hierarchical symbiosis commune because this is anne rice but i would like to play in the space of louis wishing it were
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steelycunt · 2 years
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not working on anything rn head sooo empty but i am. having fun writing every funny little situation that comes into my head. ive got a big document full of half-written paragraphs that didn't entertain me long enough to be finished and then i guiltlessly move onto the next. perhaps this is the only way to do it :-)
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youjustwaitsunshine · 2 years
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i wanna make a feature length film but like. the sequel. it would be called [film title of the first film] 2: the return/revenge/whatever but the first film doesn't actually exist anywhere. it's expected of the viewer to know the characters and their relationships and origin stories. there are no plot holes if you watch the first part only that no one watched the first part because it doesn't exist. id write both parts and then just hide the full first part in a secret cipher in a shitty instructable which leads to a livejournal account long terminated which apparently is a dead end only it isn't because accessing that site with the wayback machine on a specific date leads to a filesharing website from which you get, amongst the phone numbers of hot singles in your area, a pdf containing part one, written in binary. translated, it's just a mediocre first part and thats it
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uhm. bored now
#ughhhh aughhh  auahaguahaugahgha#txt#i would read a book but im too tired to do that. book reading is an early night activity#and its like 2:40am#so its anime time! or fanfic time. hm#man. saying shit like this makes me feel like im back in middle school#and while yes im still technically allowed to say shit like ''uwaa time to watch anime oooo time to read fanfiction ufuuuh i want to be emo'#i still feel like im too old to say/do that#like there are whole ass 30 year olds in here who still post about their yaoi babies and im 16 and embarrassed about watching anime#like realy. im embarrassing but im alowed to be yk its not like someones gonna tell me to grow up because of it#aaaaa idk. i still have the same essence i had when i was 13. im just like. wiser now. and with a bigger frontal lobe or something.#like 13 year old me wrote fanfic on a notebook and i write it on the computer notes#and i watched bad anime. and i also was a girl. and also i was ''straight''. also i was annoying. still am but now people think its cute.#i tripp and fall down the stairs as a 13 year old? cringe. now? i go teehee woops and people laugh and help me. boom bitch#the power of my pretty face. the power of my round cheeks and big eyes. of my little erratic gestures. literally so cute#i was called a tamagochi once you literally cant beat that. i am fucking adorable#and people find my general cluelessness endearing instead of bugging me about it HAHA#what the hell am i talking about. i literally dont know if any of what im saying is true#anyways uhhhh this train of thought is dead off to the next post
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osaemu · 4 months
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GOJO SATORU: HUNGRY FOR MORE
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✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!gojo x detective!reader: fucking the serial killer you're supposed to be arresting might be the best (or worst) decision you've ever made. PART 2 | NSFW
contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, public sex (in an alley), p –> v, orgasm denial, fingering, he cums inside, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, lil' bit of dumbification, hair pulling, squirting, dirty talk, manipulation/coercion, mentions of murder (he's a serial killer what did u expect), non-sexual mentions/usage of guns, probably more. 3K words.
author's note: wrote this instead of writing my research paper and studying for my math final. if this flops i will actually become the serial killer /j. anywaysss tagging @satoruhour @screampied @satorena.. and yes, the "season 2 coming soon" in the banner means something ;)
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“looks like your little killing spree’s gonna have to come to an end,” you muse, crossing your arms and cocking an eyebrow at the man across from you. he grins back at you, and it’s almost unsettling—he looks a little too smug for a killer who’s just been caught.
“i don’t think so, sweetheart,” the man responds dryly, leaning back against the alley wall, features relaxed and at ease. he—satoru gojo—has been your target for a couple weeks, and now that you’ve finally cornered him, you find yourself feeling a little… unfulfilled. usually, when you caught criminals, they begged for mercy and showed a little more emotion than what satoru’s shown so far. 
also, the criminals usually weren’t this good-looking.
you maintain eye contact with satoru while you carefully reach into your coat’s pocket, withdrawing your phone and unlocking it. unexpectedly, satoru doesn’t make any move to stop you from dialing the number to your boss, instead smiling coyly as you do so.
“so, you’re one of those guys who don’t care what happens to them?” you ask, tilting your head as you hold the phone to your ear. satoru shrugs and his grin only widens the longer your phone rings. ten seconds pass before your phone tells you that the number you dialed is currently busy, and satoru’s muffled laughter becomes unbearably suspicious. you narrow your eyes and involuntarily take a step back. “what’s with the smile?”
satoru scoffs and dips his head, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step towards you. “y’know, you’re rather brave, comin’ out to catch a serial killer all by yourself. and in the middle of the night, too.” he stops advancing when he sees you pull a gun out of your pocket and hold it up threateningly, a look of warning in your eyes. “okay, okay, relax. i’m not gonna do anything to your pretty face.”
“what did you do?” you ask suspiciously. satoru widens his eyes in mock disbelief, as if he’s completely and utterly shocked that you’d ever accuse him of anything.
“besides the fifteen separate counts of murder? not much, really.”
“i’m not an idiot,” you snap, cocking the gun and aiming it at his head. “you’re not the one in control here, satoru gojo. spit it out before i put a bullet through your skull.”
satoru laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. “fiesty, aren’t we? it’s alright, i like my girls with a little fire in them.” he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on parts of you that suddenly make you feel naked, despite the coat covering most of your figure. “put down the gun, sweetheart, then we can talk.”
you wait a second, scanning satoru’s overly relaxed face before cautiously lowering the gun. “what are you hiding?” you ask again, eyes hardening.
“a lot of things. but i think you’re talking about what i did to your boss, right?”
“you have five seconds before i shoot you.”
satoru makes a face and then rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, since you’re bein’ so pushy about it. i killed him, obviously. you’re a smart girl, shouldn’t you have figured that out by now?” when you don’t immediately answer, satoru sighs and shakes his head. “and here i thought that the girl who’d been tailing me for the past week would have a little sense in that pretty head of hers. looks like i was wrong.”
“shut it,” you snap again, re-dialing the number and letting your phone ring for fifteen seconds. when nobody picks up, you internally curse and think about what to do next. dialing 911 would be worth a try, but the look in satoru’s ice-blue eyes makes you think otherwise. despite the gun in your hand, something about him makes you entirely certain that he could overpower you, even if you landed a shot on him. and even if you just shot him right now, he’s been shown in the past to be able to function fine with a bullet through his chest. that’s how two of your subordinates lost their lives to him—by underestimating your city’s notorious killer.
so you decide to bide your time.
“ran out of options?” satoru asks smugly. he raises an eyebrow when you slide your phone back into your pocket and exhales a laugh. “you gonna wait for a big, strong man to rescue you? ‘cause i’m right here, honey, and i could be your savior.”
“that was actually the shittiest line i’ve ever heard,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at the self-satisfied look on his face. “are you seriously proud of that one?”
“well, it worked.”
he pushes himself off the alley wall and towards you so fast that you hardly even have time to process it, and before you know it, you’re the one pressed to a wall with a gun to the side of your head. satoru’s other hand grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head, and his face is close enough to the point where you can feel his breath—which is unexpectedly minty—on your cheeks as he grins down at you. “you really think i’d use a line as shitty as that if i didn’t know it’d make you lower your guard? tch, you really shoulda known better.”
you use every curse word you’ve ever heard in that moment and grit your teeth, rapidly thinking through all the possible ways you could get out of this situation, but nothing comes to mind. you’re quite literally stuck in between a rock and a hard place, with a gun pressed to your head and with your limbs out of commission. 
satoru clicks his tongue and widens his eyes at you, leaning in closer. his lips are uncomfortably close to your own as he traces the gun down the side of your face, cold metal brushing against your heated skin. “not gonna fight back? that’s no fun.”
“the fuck you want me to do?” you snap irritably, glaring up at him and curling your hands into fists. satoru tightens his grip on your wrists and cooes a sarcastic apology to you, taking his time looking you up and down again. if you didn’t value your life, you probably would’ve said worse, but seeing as you were the only person in this ridiculously isolated alley, it wouldn’t be worth much. 
“i dunno. didn’t that detective academy or whatever teach you anything?”
you roll your eyes again, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you consider the possibility of your eyes getting permanently stuck in the back of your head just because of him. “y’know, you’re not giving me a whole lot of options.”
satoru laughs. “if i did, that’d defeat the whole purpose, wouldn’t it?”
at this point, death would be preferable to hearing his idiot talk any longer.
“so, i’m gonna be the one asking the questions from now on,” satoru continues, clicking his tongue disapprovingly when you scowl. “if you behave, i won’t hurt you that badly, ‘kay? keep that in mind.”
“thought you liked your girls feisty.”
“oh, that’s true,” satoru muses thoughtfully. “yeah, never mind, you can be a little bratty. i need a reason to fuck you stupid anyways,” he grins after a moment of consideration.
“what the fuck?”
“you heard me, sweetheart,” satoru cooes, feeling his pants tighten as he watches your eyes widen. your “tough” demeanor drops for a split second, and satoru can’t help but want to fuck it off again when it returns. your scowl deepens and you frantically think through all your options again, but there isn’t a whole lot you can do at this point.
“if you wanna stay alive, you’ll be a good girl and you won’t scream,” satoru murmurs, leaning in closer and pressing his lips to yours. you grit your teeth and try to shove him away with your shoulder, but it doesn’t do much. satoru smiles against your lips and hums softly, pulling away with an almost affectionate look on his face. it’s so at odds with who he is and what he’s done that you drop your guard again, wanting to believe that he really will keep his promise not to hurt you.
satoru sees the shift in your features and smiles tenderly, all traces of his borderline-sadistic look gone. he studies your face for a moment and kisses the corner of your mouth, letting his lips linger for a second before he pulls away again. “i’m gonna let your hands go now, m’kay?” when he drops your wrists, they fall limply on his shoulders as you warily study him, eyes wide with confusion. it’s jarring, the way he just… changed personalities within the span of a couple seconds. “i’m not gonna hurt you, pretty,” he breathes, dropping the gun and letting it fall to the floor with a loud thwak. “this’ll be a lot more fun for me if you don’t resist, yeah?”
oh, fuck it.
“okay,” you murmur, ignoring every siren going off in your head. you don’t really have any other options, and honestly, nobody was going to walk by and get you out of this sticky situation anytime soon. and satoru was pretty attractive… and you could just arrest him afterwards, right?
as if he read your mind, satoru smiles and promises, “you can handcuff me after i’m done with you. just let me have a little fun one last time, baby.”
yeah, it’d be a stupid decision to believe the sweet-talker towering over you. there’s no way he’s just going to let you drag him off to jail, but there’s a reason he’s stayed out of the grasp of the law for so long. it’s hard to live a life as on-the-edge as being a serial killer, but the reason satoru’s survived for this long is because he knows how to use his words. he knows how to make a person go against every warning in their head, and he knows how to get what he wants.
which, for tonight, includes you.
“you have thirty—no, twenty minutes,” you mumble, knowing damn well that this would be the end of your career as a detective. whether or not you dragged satoru in after all this, you could never continue your work knowing you had sex with the biggest serial killer in the city.
satoru laughs and kisses you again, lips trailing down your face and settling on your neck. “haven’t i already made it clear that i’m the one in control here?” he muses as he slips his hands under your coat and tugs it off. it falls to the cold ground and bunches up around your feet, leaving you in a button-up shirt and flowy, dark pants. “c’mon, let’s get these clothes off you.”
within a minute, the rest of your clothes save for a black lacy pair of undergarments join your coat on the floor, and the chilly nighttime air nips at your skin. “i’m cold,” you mumble, feeling yourself involuntarily tense up everywhere but where satoru’s hands cloak your skin. satoru laughs in response and presses his knee to the spot in between your thighs, and something in you snaps at the point of contact. 
“you really are an idiot, aren’t ya,” satoru scoffs, hand sliding down to your waist. his fingers latch on the waistband of your panties and he tugs them down, exposing your already-wet pussy to the cold evening air and his eyes. “lettin’ a serial killer fuck you in a dark alley… what kind of detective does that?” satoru spits on two of his fingers and slips them inside you, instantly groaning when he feels you clench around him. “fuck, you gotta be the tightest pussy i’ve felt in a while,” he mutters, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down shamelessly. “do you not have sex with other guys?”
“don’t have time,” you swallow what would’ve been an embarrassingly loud moan as his fingers go deeper and deeper. how long are this man’s fucking fingers?
“aw, look at you, you’re so cute,” satoru cooes, smiling down at your scrunched up face. you look back at him through squinted eyes, hips starting to roll against his fingers. it’s true—you really haven’t had time to have sex given your already-insane schedule. it’s almost like you spent more time tracking the man who’s now knuckle-deep inside you than sleeping, but the slutty part of your head tells you that it paid off.
“‘m gonna cum,” you whine pitifully, squirming around satoru’s fingers as he curls them inwards, making you clench around him even tighter. a shiver runs over your body, starting from in between your thighs and spreading all over you as satoru’s fingers move back and forth inside your soaking wet cunt. “g-gojo—”
“call me satoru, baby, and you’re not cumming until i say you can.” with that, satoru withdraws his fingers from your pussy with a pop! and grins at the way you glare at him sullenly. he mockingly pouts and licks his drenched fingers clean, tongue lapping up your essence. “heh, don’t worry, i’ll make you cum more than you knew you could once you’re stuffed with my cock.”
although you’ve determined satoru’s “promises” to be dubious at best, he fufills this one after he’s spread your legs wide open and positioned his cock at your entrance. “this might hurt, baby, but remember, no screaming.” after you nod in acknowledgement, satoru slips his tip in and watches, amused, as you try to close your legs on reflex. “uh uh, keep ‘em nice and wide f’me,” satoru tuts disapprovingly.
and true to his word, it hurts—a dull ache spreads throughout your legs as his dick goes farther and farther inside you, reaching places you hadn’t felt in a long time. satoru’s hands settle somewhere on your waist as he pushes himself deeper, ignoring your gasps and pleas for him to slow down a little. your shaky hands move to his hair and you unwittingly pull on it, somehow eliciting a soft groan from satoru’s lips, and somewhere in the back of your mind you think that of course a serial killer has a hair pulling kink—it just makes sense. 
“s-satoru, it won’t fit,” you whisper, feeling satoru hit an especially tight spot in your cunt. even with how wet you are, it just feels like you can’t possibly take any more of him—he might as well be ten feet inside you, given the pain in your hips. but, as expected, satoru only smiles tauntingly down at you and murmurs words of encouragement as he somehow pushes past the barrier and gets all the way in amid your pained whimpers.
“yeah, that’s it, knew you could do it,” satoru says sweetly, voice coated with poisonous honey. now that he’s all the way in, the ache from your waist down starts to fade into pleasure, especially as satoru starts moving himself in and out to get you used to the feeling of his dick. “just like that, pretty girl. jus’ like that.”
soon enough, he sets an unexpectedly harsh pace that makes your back arch off the cold, brick wall behind you, and even as satoru tries to keep up his “cool serial killer” act, you can hear his quivering breaths as he gets close to cumming. “shit, i forgot how fuckin’ good it felt to fuck a cunt this tight—” he mutters through gritted teeth. “‘m gonna cum inside, ‘kay?”
you nod breathlessly, chasing your own pleasure and not actually listening to the words satoru murmurs in your ear. at this point, it didn’t matter—all your pathetic little head could think about was satoru’s dick, and somehow, you forget that he’s a killer when he cums inside you. it’s hot and thick and it almost knocks you over—when was the last time you felt this good, if ever?
the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum with him, nodding along to satoru’s praises on how well you’re taking him. you squirt all over his painfully hard dick and suck in a sharp breath as you do so, body trembling from the force of both of your orgasms.
“see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” satoru murmurs when you both come down from your highs, stroking your hair almost tenderly. you bob your head in response, face warm and eyes unable to properly focus. he stuffs his fingers back inside your puffy cunt and scoops the cum dripping down your thighs back inside, mumbling something about not letting a single drop go to waste. “who knew the pretty detective i’d had my eye on would be this good to me?” he cooes, grinning snarkily.
satoru’s earlier promise floats through your head and you force yourself to look him in the eye. “y-you said you’d let me arrest you after,” you breathe, back still pressed to the wall as satoru surveys you amusedly.
“oh, sweetheart, you’re in no condition to be giving orders,” satoru says condescendingly, pulling up his pants and grinning at you. his cheeks are still flushed red, but whether that’s from the cold nighttime air or from the heated sex, you don’t quite know. “we should do this again sometime,” he continues conversationally as he picks up your coat for you. despite the fact that you’re still naked and trembling, satoru drapes your coat around your shoulders and helps you button it up.
“but you said—” you protest, but satoru cuts you off with a raised eyebrow.
“you didn’t seriously believe me, did you?” satoru tuts, shaking his head. “i’m a serial killer. i’m not gonna turn myself in just ‘cause of a detective’s pretty pussy, baby. you should’ve known better, doll.” satoru wraps an arm around your limp shoulders and tugs you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against your own for a couple seconds before he pulls away with a satisfied smile.
he leaves you with a promise to see you soon.
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sleepdeprivedshit · 7 months
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i like my room to be at body preserving temprature
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