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tojipie · 11 months

Note

can i request y/n’s reaction to toji going to jail? like was she there for the arrest.. how did toji break the news?

partial continuation to this ask !

his crime is finally revealed ! mwahaaha. if i printed out every comment asking me to assign him a crime to go along with his prison sentence i’d be able to cover the state of texas. probs my longest work! and this isn’t even that long so what does that say about me? (poor work ethic)

prison bf series linked here !

content: angst, hurt/comfort, lots of fighting, themes of incarceration

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“can i ask you something?” you mumble, rolling onto your stomach to address your boyfriend face to face.

toji pauses, then nods, blowing an acrid plume of smoke towards the ceiling before passing you the cigarette he had pinched between two fingers.

a buzzer sounds from the tv in front of you followed by a sea of excited cheers.

“fuck!” he curses. bringing his fist down on the mattress. “i have 6 grand on this fucking match.”

you wait for his hand to unclench before tapping him, reminding him of your inquiry.

“yeah— yeah. what’s up?” he mumbles, squeezing the fat of your arm affectionately. toji takes what’s left of the cigarette back from you, stubbing it out in the marble ashtray on his bedside table.

“you never told me what you do for work.” the implication hangs heavy in the air as you wait for him to explain, the last bits of smoke around the two of you begin to dissipate. you realize he’s gone rigid.

“business, lots of things.” he says curtly, fishing a pack of marlboro reds from the side hesitantly. you hate when he does this, keeping his hands occupied so he has an excuse to not speak to you.

“right, but like..” you start, growing frustrated. “what kind of business.”

“real estate… y’know.” he smacks the carton against the butt of his hand, then fishes out a stick.

“property management. investing and all that.” he sounds a little more confident this time, cupping a lighter to his mouth with a cough.

you tear yourself from his arms and sit up on the bed, eyes cast on his. you practically feel his stomach drop from how he looks at you, movements laced with caution and hesitance.

“put that out.” you tell him. “stop playing games with me.”

“what?” he laugh’s incredulously, still trying to maintain his confident facade.

“do you not think it’s fucking weird that i don’t know where all your money comes from? do you even pay for this fucking house?” your patience had officially run out, you were pissed.

“nonono— hey— hey c’mon.” toji grapples for your hands, quickly trying to calm you down.

“you don’t do fucking real estate, do you really think i’m that stupid?” your accusation renders him speechless for a moment as he thinks of what to say.

the older man’s expression twists as guilt starts to usher in. he extinguishes the roll-up in his hand, flicking it into the ash tray on your nightstand before reaching for you softly.

“baby..” he chuckles, snaking two palms around the curve of your waist. “don’t be like that.”

“i know it’s illegal. i know it is and i’m not even mad, toji. i’m not .. i just want to know.”

he sighs, running a hand down the side of his face.

“you think just because we eat good that i wouldn’t ask questions down the line? do you think i’m fucking stupid?”

“no.” he whines. “no, fuck. c’mon.” you smack his hands away as he reaches for you once more, tearing yourself off the bed and out into the hallway.

you hear your name boom behind you angrily as he calls out for you a final time. glass shatters against the ground as he mutters to himself, heavy footsteps pacing back and forth.

─

you’re not unaware of toji’s presence as the older man stands in front of your curled up form on the couch. it’s dark, probably just after 3am. too dark to see his expression, though you know he’s frowning.

he lets out a quiet sound of realization as you turn over, rucking the blanket over your head to drown his presence out. the windows are open, you can feel the chill of the night breeze, even under your comforter.

“i can’t let you sleep here, pretty. that’s not right.”

you stay silent, holding your breath as you wait for him to either leave or fess up.

it’s quiet for a while. you slowly feel yourself being pulled into the precipice between sleep and awareness. an all-consuming warmth makes its home in your chest before you’re quickly struck back awake, heart jumpstarting at the sound of his voice.

“i invest in properties.” he whispers, kneeling beside you so you can hear him more clearly.

“i make investments in properties and then i let people store.. product there.” you know he isn’t lying to you this time. you feel it in his tone.

“product?” you grumble, your voice laced with sleep. you know exactly what he means, you just want to hear him say it.

“drugs, baby. warehouses.”

it’s quiet once more as you mull over what to say back. were you surprised? hardly. you knew what you were getting into as soon as you got involved with him. were you mad? well it was still hard to tell.

“ok.” you mumble curtly, throwing the covers towards your feet and stalking towards the master bedroom. you knew now, and that was that. you gathered there was no reason to keep fighting about it.

toji stands a little too quickly, watching your form disappear up the stairs.

“wait—” he starts, head spinning at your sudden acceptance. “wait really?”

“just come to bed.” you holler, sighing dryly to yourself at the sheer ridiculousness of it it all.

─

toji had a plan in place even before you’d found out what kind of business he was running. if anything were to happen to him, there would be a fund stored overseas for you to dig into while he wasn’t there to put food on the table.

he’d thought of everything, put measures in place that normal people wouldn’t even think of before it was too late.

he had your shared house put under a family member’s name, hired private security to watch the perimeter of the house 24/7, urged you to use a fake ID in public to conceal your real name, and never ever took you to work meetings.

it just wasn’t enough.

it wasn’t enough to keep his phones from getting tapped. it wasn’t enough to stop an investigation from being launched, and it simply just wasn’t enough to keep him under the radar and out of a prison cell.

you wailed like a baby when the bailiffs snapped those silver cuffs on his arms and led him out of the court room, crumpling to the floor and babbling nonsense towards the judge’s podium like it would somehow change the course of what just happened.

7 years in a federal penitentiary. and that was nothing compared to the sentence they would’ve gave him if his men hadn’t taken half of the fall for him.

toji didn’t look at you.

he didn’t so much as spare you a glance as you sat there on the carpeted floor, screaming into your hands while the bailiffs tried to pick you up off of the floor.

he didn’t say anything to you as you kicked and scratched your way towards his lawyer, hurling expletives and threats to the one person who was tasked with maintaining his freedom.

he didn’t look because he couldn’t.

he couldn’t look at you, his only girl. the girl he’d marry someday, the one he’d raise a family with. he couldn’t look at you because if he did he might risk breaking down right then and there.

he might risk grabbing you by the arm and booking it, going underground for the rest of your lives while his name slowly climbed up the nation’s most wanted list.

he could do it, without question. he’d be more cautious this time. but that just wouldn’t be fair to you. he was done roping you into his mess.

you were young, gorgeous, too good for all of that trouble. you’d worked all your life to get by until he met you, slowly letting down your walls, letting him spoil you like you’d always deserved. and what kind of man would he be if he took that away from you and forced the two of you into hiding?

toji felt himself crumble as reality began to sink in. his stomach dropped with each dreaded step towards his holding room. this was no joke. this was his fate and there was no getting out of it.

“wait.” he tells the bailiffs, whipping his head towards the direction of the courtroom in a panic. he wasn’t the boss anymore. these men didn’t answer to him.

“wait, fuck. wait!” he groans, barreling his way back down the hall. he needed to see you, needed to say goodbye. there’s no telling when they’d let you two visit or if you’d even be able to communicate. god, this was real.

god, he was a coward for giving you the silent treatment. he deserved prison just for that.

toji grunts as he’s tackled to the ground, gloved hands securing shackles on his ankles.

“get offa me. get off— fuck. i wanna see her.” he groans, thrashing as security circles his form. “nonono let me see her! fuck— fuck!”

all he can do is listen to you wail as he’s dragged down the hall, screaming out to you in hopes you hear him.

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historiaxvanserra · 5 months

Text

These Violent Delights | An Eris Vanserra story

Summary: At a ball in Hewn City, you meet your match in Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!Reader (brief mentions of Azriel x reader)

Word Count: 7.6k

Previously called If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power. I changed the name to adapt if from a one shot into a series.

You had been born on a night like this, you think. The storm-streaked clouds line the heavens like flowering hydrangeas as they dissolve into a black abyss and the moonlight shines like pearls on the water where the horizon meets the Sidra.

Storm-streaked they had called you.

When you were a little girl, your father had told you that you had come into this world in the same way as the old Gods had. Born from the merciless depths of some unknowable blue-darkness; cruel and beautiful, and fearless.

Now fear is all you know.

The crack of forked white lightening against the darkening horizon pushes you further into introspective thought. The visions come with the quiet; flashes of silver and gold and the icy embrace of the water. That infernal cauldron and what it had taken from. It haunts you, even in dreaming.

Of late, the days seem to pass in a state of perpetual purgatory, marred by memories and the water– an unforgiving tempest that tears through you.

The water cleanses but it also devastates.

Your father had once called you water; the salt and the sea.

You had always wondered what that meant.

But here you stand-- a storm incarnate; volatile, half-wild and isolating. And who can become the water without inheriting its violence, or its loneliness?

The feeling of harsh violet eyes on you is enough to drag you gaze from your spot near the balcony and the storm as it rages outside.

“Are you ready, Nesta?” Rhysand’s voice is velvet night as it reverberates around the small waiting room.

A chill runs down your spine when you catch his eyes, glinting and violet in the dim light. You regard Nesta cooly as she tilts her chin upwards.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Nesta’s eyes are lined with kohl and looking at her is like looking into the eye of a storm.

She always had an austere kind of beauty that left you speechless.

Rhysand only nods simply before taking Feyre’s arm and approaching the large doorway. Nesta and Elain fall into rank behind them with practiced ease. It is you who hovers awkwardly in the background for a moment before taking your place in the middle of the formation. A solitary figure amongst them.

You swallow thickly and you catch the lingering scent of a night chilled mist as you bristle. A whisper of night wraps itself around you like a cold comfort. These days his scent seems to follow you like a shadow; though, you suppose when you’ve spent every night this week wrapped around him, trying to drown out your own thoughts, there is bound to be a trace of him that lingers there.

At last, the towering doors to the throne room yawned open.

The throne room is lined with black candles and evergreen wreaths frame the doorway, and moonflowers climb up the high, onyx pillars like ivy. And on each side of the aisles there were two magnificent banquet tables, piled high with food enough to feed a city. Though it was not to be touched without express permission from the High Lord.

A ripple of dark power reverberates through the mountain as The High Lord and Lady enter the throne room. You swear you feel the mountain wail in their presence. It is a powerful thing and you feel something within yourself begin to stir with it.

A cold rage as it makes a home in your chest.

The courtiers pale as they approach, parting like the tide as their High Lord and High Lady brush through them, crowned in silver crystals and garbed in midnight black robes.

Rhysand looks beautiful you think as your eyes find him in the procession-- he stands tall against you all, his hair perfectly quaffed and the rich scent of mandarin and night-blooming jasmine seems to follow him.

All that pales in comparison to Feyre; the dress she wears is like tangible shadow. Gossamer thin silk and tulle that glitters with flecks of silver starlight, all gathered about her waist with a thin belt that accentuates the swell of her stomach.

The room beholds her with baited breath; a sense of awe and ire.

She looks like the visage of some ancient Goddess of the moon; pale and beautiful in the silvery light.

You sense a shift in the air as they approach the dias and Rhysand’s shoulders tense; he is a picture of male pride. There is a dangerous quality to it that chills you to the bone. A cold violence that feels almost kindred to you. Feyre’s full red lips part and she smiles until it seems to dampen Rhys’s anger as he reaches for her as they climb the steps of the onyx dias.

Keir’s face is twisted in a half-grimace, somewhere between astonishment and anguish. Behind him the Eris Vanserra remains fixed in place, his face set in a painfully neutral expression as he regards the High Lord and Lady.

Motion from behind you beckons you to move as Nesta and Elain fall into step with you and begin to pace the length of the aisle and approach the dias.

All three of you are dressed in Night Court black. A symbol of your place amongst the royal family. A warning of the dark power which you all possessed. Stolen and gifted from that cauldron. A reminder of your value. It is a carefully rehearsed routine as Nesta takes her place between you both, the flare of her skirts bushing against the marble floor with each long stride. You and Elain flank her sides like two wraiths.

Elain looks sallow in black, you think as you catch her eyes. A poor initiation of the coldness you wear so well etched onto her beautiful face and steely determination in her dark, rich eyes.

Nesta outshines you all tonight-- her golden hair braided into a crown atop her head and a delicate crown glints in the lantern light, slender spikes jutting forward in a dark corona. Her wicked eyes glinted like cobalt in the light. She’s dressed all in black. The gown itself is skin tight and embroidered with intricate silver brocade, twisting vines and moonflowers adorn the velvet bodice, tracing the curve of her breasts and sinking low, to her navel where the silver thread gathers about a sapphire that matches the crystals on her crown.

Nesta is a cruel beauty; enough to bring a God to his knees.

And Cassian looks about ready to sink to his knees before her as you regard him on the dias.

Nestas moves with a feline grace, expressive and smirking as she takes her place between Cassian and Elain on the platform.

Feyre and Rhysand sink into their thrones with a measured grace and from your stop between Elain and Azriel you can see all the eyes in the room as they flit from one member of the Inner Circle to the next.

But it is the strange amber gaze of Eris Vanserra that you meet in the gathering crowd. He offers you a courteous nod and the ghost of a smirk graces his full lips and you send a scathing look in his direction in return.

You hope he feels the bitter sting of your coldness as your eyes try to find anything else in the throne room to focus on.

Azriel rolls on the balls of his feet as the silence settles in the room and he inches so close to you that you feel the scarred pads of his fingers brush the exposed skin of your back.

“You look good in black,” his voice is impossibly quiet, almost inaudible as he dips low enough that he is speaking into the shell of your ear.

A cold chill runs up the length of your spine.

“Thank you, Shadowsinger,” You say simply, a feral smile on your lips as you bare your teeth to him.

A laugh sharp and cruel rings through you and Azriel’s hand tangles in the lengths of your hair tugging sharply.

“You are most welcome,” Azriel agrees, his voice is like shadow and wind as it graces your ears “most welcome indeed.”

Azriel steps back into line as Rhysand stands to address the crowd.

Your own spine straightens as though it is muscle memory by now. Obedience. To bend and break as the High Lord and Lady saw fit.

Rhysand looks like Night Triumphant as he regards his uncle with a strange union of cruelty and cordiality. Recently Rhys and Feyre had softened slightly with the people of Hewn City. Keir in particular. They can’t afford to isolate him from court politics-- in case the need arises for his Darkbringers to fight again. Hence the fact Rhysand even abides his presence at all. Rhysand’s cruel gaze lingers just a touch too long though. A careful reminder of the fate he’ll earn if he ever decided to go against Rhys.

It’s been months since you’ve been to Hewn City, longer since you involved yourself in court politics. Longer still, since any whispers of the Trove or Briallyn reached you. Though you aren’t naive enough to believe it is over.

None of the Inner Circle are.

That is why you find yourself in Hewn City tonight. Swathed in the sallow light, and painted like a pretty whore; all red lips and dark eyes, with trembling hands, wanting nothing more than to be back in that little cabin with your sisters by your side-- as you were when you were girls.

Feyre rises to her feet to join Rhys and she addresses the crowd, “May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you.”

The crowd seems to hum in acknowledgement and then they bow in a show of deference.

Or blind obedience.

Your eyes meet the strange amber gaze of Eris Vanserra once more, and it is you he looks at when he kneels.

Keir slinks forward, offering your sister a low bow, “Allow me to extend my congratulations, High Lady.” His voice drips with false flattery as he dips his chin in a show of esteem.

Eris Vanserra moves like a predator as he stalks forward, offering your sister a devastating, cultivated smile that feels almost authentic. “And allow me to extend my sincerest wishes, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.”

Rhysand’s mouth curls into a wicked half smile, his eyes darken to an amethyst color as she speaks “I’m sure your father will be most pleased for us.”

The implication that hands in the air is a dangerous one and you can feel the color drain from you at the terse exchange. A few more beast of silence and--

“Music,” The High Lord calls out and the orchestra from behind the mezzanine begins to play lightly, the sounds of lyres and harps ring through the air.

Feyre once again addresses the crown, every inch the High Lady, “Go--eat--enjoy.” The crowd of silent courtiers disperse throughout the room as they aim to take their places at the tables.

Each banquet table is piled high with an obscene amount of food and you find yourself feeling ashamed of the blatant opulence before you. When once you had nothing. Now you live without wanting. It makes you feel ashamed. How your old self would resent this wasteful indulgence.

Turning away from the feasting courtiers you turn inwards towards the thrones on the dias.

Now only Eris and Keir remain standing before the High Lord and Lady. You notice how neither of the men has deigned to acknowledge Morrigan’s presence behind the thrones. She looks ethereal and savage as she smirks down at them, her lips look as though they are stained wine red.

Blood red, you think.

The Illyrain’s at either side of you and your sisters look more like beasts carved into the dark stone of the mountain than anything else. Azriel and Cassian are clad in black armor, each adorned in ruby and sapphire to match their siphons that glow faintly in the low light. The brothers look as though they are the visage of some Gods of old; statuesque and hard-faced as they regard the Autumn Prince.

Cassian in particular looks like he might invoke some of that ancient power to stop Eris from dancing with Nesta tonight. He had not objected but, how could he? Rhys was his brother and his High Lord. Obedience is easier than the alternative.

And the fate of The Night Court-- his home-- could rest on Eris’ alliance. So he will bite his tongue in the knowledge that what Eris offers is a chance at defeating Briallyn and Koschei.

From your spot you watch the Autumn Prince with piqued curiosity. He will not stop looking at you and it is infuriating.

It brings a cold anger bubbling to the skin's surface; all biting fury and icy violence.

The conversation between Keir and Rhys seems to come to a natural end and the lull in the conversation has the whole room falling into silence, waiting for their next order. Like puppets.

And your sister the puppet master, pulling the strings as she commands, her voice like thunder at midnight, “Dance--”.

The courtiers like a midnight sea part and pair off in swathes of dark silk and velvet. Even Keir retreats into the crowd and pairs off with a dark haired female.

Eris turns on his heels, the wrap of his riding boots against the floor echo through your head.

“Before you join in the merriment, Eris,” Rhy’s voice is a velvet drawl as he presents a long black box, “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”

You swallow hard and step forward. Procuring the box from Rhysand you press forward, one long stride that brings you face to face with the Autumn Prince and for the first time you truly look at him.

A night-kissed wind envelops the pair of you, enough to wrap behind Eris blocking the dias from view of the dancing courtiers.

Eris Vanserra is devastating; he has a cruel sort of beauty, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones that look sharp enough to cut into you, but his eyes are soft and unwavering. He is a strange juxtaposition.

Eris arches a brow at Rhysand and you flip open the carved lid of the box. Eris stiffens, his voice low and dangerous.

“What is this?” he asks, somewhere between disbelief and wariness.

“A present,” Rhysand clarifies and you catch a glimpse of ruby and gold on the hilt of the dagger.

You refrain from grimacing at the truth you are confronted with. Rhysand and your sister want to sell off Nesta like a broodmare and her Made weapons with her.

A truly beautiful piece. And dangerous too.

Like Eris, something in you calls.

Eris’ hand hovers over the open box and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“You sense its power, then?” Feyre asks voice dripping with a sense of smugness that does not suit her in the slightest.

Eris nods carefully, his eyes flicking to the High Lord and Lady before finding yours again.

“There’s flame in it,” he says, hand still hovering over the weapon. As if something in him senses its true power. He closes the lid abruptly. “Why give it to me?”

Feyre smiles lightly and shrugs, “You’re our ally.”

Feyre rests a protective hand over the swell of her stomach, “You face enemies that exist outside of the usual rules of magic. It’s only fair to grant you a weapon that operates outside of those rules too.”

You stand transfixed by the twitch of his jaw and the bob of his throat as he considers her words.

“It is truly made then?” He asks, carefully. His eyes never leave yours and it is your voice that answers his question.

“It is, My Lord.” your voice comes out all cold and gravelly, unlike yourself.

Rhysand speaks again though the beating of your heart renders him almost mute, “From my personal collection. An heirloom of sorts.”

“All this time,” Eris’ voice is dark and thoughtful, “ all these years you possessed a Made weapon and you kept it hidden.”

“Even during the war,” Eris says more to himself than anyone else.

There is a dangerous sense of anger and skepticism in the air as Eris examines the weapon again, his hand once more runs over the length of the dagger, his fingers barely ghosting the cool metal.

“Don’t take our generosity for granted,” Feyre offers in warning, her voice quiet and threatening.

Eris stills and nods in acknowledgement. He extends a smile that looks courteous enough to be genuine and once more allows his finger to run over the smooth length of the blade. “Thank you,”

“Might I leave it in your safekeeping while I dance, My Lady?” Eris’s voice seems distant and far away and it takes a moment for you to realize that he is speaking directly to you.

You look at him coldly, unable to muster the warmth of genuine affection when he is looking at you like that. It is infuriating. That someone so cruel might also be so insufferably handsome.

“Yes, My Lord.”

Feyre nods to Rhys and Eris in acknowledgement and against your better judgment you let your eyes linger over the graceful curve of his calves and up over the contours of his muscled thighs, all the way up over the broad expanse of his chest and finally becoming entangled in the unbound curls of copper hair as he sweeps it over his shoulder.

Devilishly and devastatingly handsome. Sun-blood handsome.

Feyre’s soft lilt brings you back to reality as she says “Use it well, Lord.”

Your sister's smile curves into a soft smile at Eris and extends a hand to him, “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me quite unwell.” Feyre makes a show of looking between the two sisters who stand in line with Cassian and Azriel.

Elain, at least, has the good grace to give the impression of seeming interested. Nesta though looks bored. As though she is only half listening. As though they hadn’t just given away the dagger she’d Made.

Perhaps it was the way that Nesta’s grey eyes had drifted away from the dancing sea of courtiers, or the forlorn look on Cassian’s face as he stood on the dias, but either way it made you realize something. That maybe the Illyrian General meant more to Nesta than she would ever let on. More than that dagger-- more than magic or power or court politics.

Feyre notes the direction of Nesta’s stare and then looks between you and Eris. The corners of her lips twitch in nervous anticipation as her eyes settle on you.

“My lovely sister shall take my place.” Feyre nods to you and for a moment you let the icy wrath in your stare settle over her before dipping your head to her.

Eris’ throat bobs as you assess him with that same cold gaze. A slender hand takes the Made dagger from you and you hold out a hand to him.

He extends a sculpted arm out to you, his large hand wrapping around you as you yield to him. His long, deft fingers brush against yours; his skin is warm to the touch and even in the pallid light it is clear and pale, with golden hues that compliment the warm depths of his eyes. Your chest grows taut and you feel emotion course through you with the force of a raging tempest.

You loose a breathy gasp and for a moment you exist somewhere outside of yourself. You hear Eris’ voice, a warm, low timbre as he utters your name. He offers you his arm as you descend from your spot on the onyx dias. The sound of your slippers echo in the silent chamber. Eris’s face is set in a painfully neutral expression and you try your hardest to mirror it. Hoping he will not see the storm raging inside of you. You think of Nesta and the way she moves with such thoughtful grace and so you copy it; your chin tilted high and each step becomes a glide as you reach the edge of the marble dance floor.

The eyes of the courtiers fall onto you.

You feel the heat of Eris stare as it burns into the side of your face-- you feel a pair of violet eyes on you too. A cold chill spreads through you when his talons scrape dangerously and then you see him in your mind's eye. What a dangerous turn of events.

Dangerous? You had never considered yourself as something dangerous.

Nesta might have seduced Eris, but you will bring him to his knees. Rhysand’s cold tenor rattles around your mind and for a moment you see him standing at the precipice of a cliff as the storm rolls in, and the jagged rocks below look like the opening of a Helmouth.

There is no doubt that Nesta is more beautiful. With a feline sort of beauty; long legs and a graceful neck, all angular and steely eyed. Nesta had inherited the aristocratic sort of beauty that your mother possessed. You had always been half-wild, unapproachable and--

Well, it is your mother’s voice that resounds in your head, of two sisters one is always the dancer and one the watcher.

Tonight the roles reverse as you take your place in the middle of the dance floor. You will bring him to his knees.

You catch Azriel’s eye as the instrumental music fades into momentary silence. From his spot on the dias he looks like a dark God; and he looks like he might just tear Eris to blood ribbons when his hand wraps around your waist.

Eris brings you so close to him that you're pressed against him and as the harp begins to play, high and sweet, he smiles softly at you. As if the notes of music wrap around you, you raise your palm to his flat and open, an invitation if he has even seen one.

The low stringed instruments usher in the music like a coming storm, a summons to the dance in a rushing of music, like water. You remind yourself to smile wickedly at Eris as he slides a broad hand over the curves and divots of your waist and hips. You lift your head high and, looking up into his perfect face you bare your teeth to him. All ruby red lips and pearls and he smiles so wickedly that you’re not sure who is supposed to be seducing who.

Those strange amber eyes-- so haunting in the faelight.

The harps and lyres sing so beautifully in the air and when the violins begin to play, it feels like a siren song in the air. A beckoning. As your body moves with the ebb and flow of the dancing tide.

Eris leads you into the waltz, he moves with practiced ease. He knows every note, every trough and swell of the music, each nuance and note.

Nesta would outdance you everytime. This you know. She moves like the music becomes her. And in so many ways it does. Her body bends to the will of the orchestral sound, and it bends to her too.

So you will have to play it differently.

The music sweeps you up in it’s tide, and as the music swells you decide to surrender yourself to the water. Let it wash all over you. Your body, once rigid and taut, goes pliant in Eris’ arms. You let the orchestral sound drown out your doubts and give yourself over to it. To him. His fingers ghost the line of your spine and he pushes you further still, against him. So close that you feel your heartbeat in tandem and your body bends to his will.

It is easier to bend than to break.

Better to relinquish control than have it taken from you.

Eris’ eyes widen and soften then-- as if he feels it too-- you feel his hands loosen before tightening again around you. Somehow different now. Somehow, strangely, comforting.

He moves with such grace and skill, his body reacts to every fluttering note and pause in the music. And the whole time his eyes are on you. And you can’t look away. The dark, warm depths of his eyes like a slow-burning fire that consumes all in its wake.

You find the faces of your family in the crowd and you see that their normally composed demeanor seems to have shifted, their eyes wide and jaws slack as you move with the tide.

Tonight you are the storm and the fire will bend to you.

You will bring him to his knees, you think. As the music washes over you.

Has there ever been such a haunting and mournful sound in all the world? Your name falling from Eris’mouth perhaps.

The snippets of the music Nesta had described to you, from her memory of the Veritas, paled in comparison. It flows and swims around you, filling you like water, and if you let it, it could be enough to drown you. To sink into the depths of the high-arching song.

Eris smiles again when you fall into step with him so effortlessly, like you are an extension of him.

One soul in two bodies.

His broad hand tightens over the flare of your hip, his fingers flexing before digging into the malleable flesh. The smile you give him feels much too vulnerable and genuine to bring you any sort of comfort.

Eris' amber eyes shine with feral delight and you see yourself reflected in his eyes; you look like sin personified. The dark material of your dress gathers about your waist, held in place only by velvet ribbon and a few embroidered onyx crystals. The deep cut of the dress is so low that it bares the ample curve of your breasts and your strain to catch your breath because of how tight the dress has been laced.

The person you see in Eris’eyes looks like the incarnation of some ancient deity; dark and cold, and cruel. And beautiful.

Eris’ broad hand spreads across the middle of your back, pressed firm between your shoulder blades and you burn beneath him. As the music lulls and flutters his gaze locks onto yours and flame simmers in those dark topaz eyes and a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. Cat-like and feral as he dips you low, supporting your weight in his arms. His face comes to hover over yours and you’re transfixed by his unyielding stare.

Beautiful and haunting eyes.

One hand is wrapped around his neck and the other you bring to touch his cheek with the tenderness of someone who has never truly been touched. His face falters and something akin to raw vulnerability flashes in his eyes.

Bring him to his knees.

In one swift movement Eris sweeps you so that you are standing upright, pressed so close to his chest that you feel each groove and divot of his sculpted chest. You place that same hand over his blazing heart and as the music filters into stunned silence, Eris eyes you with feral delight.

For a moment, as the heaving in your chest subsides you allow yourself to remain in his tender grasp. His fingers ghosting the curve of you hip and the small of your back, rubbing slow, deliberate circles into the skin there.

The faces of the courtiers turn upon you.

You, this once-human female, barely out of girlhood, who had been thrust into this world of dark power and politics.

Who stood before them now, coloured in the murky green hues of Hewn City.

Storm-streaked girl.

It is like being born again and the mountain trembles in your wake.

The eyes of your High Lord and Lady land on you and Eris at the foot of the dias. Rhysand rises in his seat and his violet eyes meet yours and something wicked and enchanting flashes in them. Feyre regards you with a wild smile and she laughs before tipping her head to you in acknowledgement.

And in a show of secret defiance you plunge into the deepest curtsey you can manage; your chest still rising and falling with a dramatic flare, and your skirts pool around you like inky shadows as you sink low onto the marble. You dip your chin ever so slightly, never quite breaking eye contact with the cruel violet gaze that assesses you with a dangerous glint.

A laugh of dark joy bursts from Eris beside you who in turn, offers his own small bow before capturing you again in his firm hold as the orchestra begins to play again.

Your mother had always wanted a Prince for Nesta, and yet, here you were-- beautiful, cruel and merciless, with the Autumn Prince sinking into the cold depths of your eyes.

Everyone who has ever loved you has underestimated you. But looking into Eris’ eyes you see something kindred to you.

You will bring them all to their knees.

Eris' amber eyes gleam with want as he takes you in again and you loose a shaky breath as he leads you into the next dance.

The music is soft and light, the strings sing a song so aching and mournful that you feel once again overcome with it. All of your violent coldness, all that biting fury, rendered a useless ruse as the music becomes you.

Eris might be the monster they all say he is, but looking at him now, in the soft light, you see something else.

“Trust Rhysand to keep such a beautiful creature to himself.” Eris’ amber eyes study you carefully.

You school your face to remain neutral, with just a touch of scorn as you bite back.

“If beauty is all you can see, My Lord” You say, your voice dark and taunting, “I fear you have missed the point entirely.”

“Intelligent too,” Eris chuckles darkly and wraps a wisp of your unbound hair around his forefinger, “and dangerous.”

You don’t deign to reply though Eris continues his assessment of you, his eyes trailing over you, afire with dark promise.

“I’ve seen you before though,” Eris asks as he steps into the next part of the song, “haven’t I?”

His eyes narrow on you and you think back to the last time you saw Eris Vanserra.

“At the High Lords meeting,” You say quietly, your voice thick with shame as you recall the meeting some months back.

You had been little more than a wraith then, when the dreams of drowning in that cauldron plagued you nightly, a girl gulping on a woman’s grief. Now those dreams only come with the coming of a storm. A warning or some ill-fated omen.

“The time since the way has changed you.” It is not a question but a statement.

You don’t smile at him like you should. Instead you meet Eris’ burning stare with a measured look of your own, “For the better, I hope?”

Eris thinks for a moment, as if looking for the right words to express his meaning.

“You are a Goddess.” he says slyly gesturing to the dress as the skirts brush against him, baring the slit in the thigh to him.

“Then kneel to me.” You say, not missing a beat as Eris laughs wickedly and brings his mouth to hover over the shell of your ear.

“It seems you came to play the game tonight, afterall.” Eris says, his voice a low murmur in your ear.

He spins you again, quick and violent before you crash back into him again, “don’t believe the lies they tell you about me.”

“But I should believe you?” You ask, arching a brow to the cruel prince.

“You shouldn’t believe anyone here, Little fox.” Eris tips his head towards the dias where Mor watches the pair of you from her spot besides the High Lord and Lady.

“The Morrigan knows the truth,” Eris insists, “though she has never revealed it.”

“Why?” You ask curiously.

“Because she is afraid of it.” Eris’ voice is tempered and quiet and he casts the Inner Circle a look of his own, “they all are.”

Your mouth twitches with the ghost of a smirk as you press yourself further into him, “You don’t do yourself any favors with this mask you wear.”

“Don’t I? I’ve managed to ally myself to this court, under constant threat of being discovered by my father-- do you have any idea what he’d do to me if he found out, Little fox?” Eris asks, the fire within him lighting and flickering in his amber eyes. “I ally myself with this court, I offer aid when I can, I placate Rhysand with ceremonies and shows of deference. Why do you think that is?”

Eris dips you again and the fan on his unbound hair brushes against your bare shoulders.

“Because there’s something in it for you.” It isn’t a matter of question. You know it to be true and you see it in the way that Eris regards you with a mixture of fondness and caution.

“Because there is something in it for me,” Eris confirms, “and tell me, what is in it for me?”

“What is it that you want, My Lord?” You ask, fluttering dark lashes at him and the music swells.

“What is Rhysand offering?” Eris counters and leads you further into the center of the floor.

“Nothing that I have the power to grant you.”

Eris laughs, the sound like silk on your skin and you shiver as he brings his lips to graze your ear, “I very much doubt that, Little fox?”

You swallow thickly and a surge of dark power pricks at your skin. You let him see it; all that cold rage, and the violence of the sea.

Eris' face twists but not from fear and a strange look of reverence shines in his eyes.

The waltz comes to a close and as the music fades into the chatter of the courtiers he whispers into your ear once more.

“They say your sister Elain is the beauty, but you are something else entirely.” His breath is hot and sacred on your neck, and a broad hand strokes the bare skin of your back and you find yourself arching into him.

Eris takes a step back from you, holding your hand above your head and turning you slowly as his eyes roam the curves and contours of your body, “You are wasted in the Night Court,”

“Truly wasted.” His voice is a low whistle as you stop in front of him now.

“And where might I be used more effectively, My Lord?”

Eris chuckles again but before he can answer--

“Get your hands off her, Eris.” Azriel’s voice is like cold death that cuts through the spell that Eris has you under. His wrath comes off him in waves that crash against you, halting your movements.

The dancing sea around you seems to cease to move as Eris and Azriel lock eyes.

Eris straightens his back and he closes his hand over yours-- gently, almost protectively-- and he locks his eyes onto Azriel.

Hazel and amber meet and shadow and light seem to dance in the air. The courtiers wait with baited breath.

“I don’t take orders from the likes of you, Shadowsinger.”

You stifle a snarl as you look at Azriel. Who does he think he is? He has no claim over you. He had made that much clear when you started this thing. A means to an end. A placeholder for another sister.

“Am I to understand that you’d like to dance, Azriel?” You ask cooly, trying not to let your violet rage show in the darkness of your eyes.

“Yes.” His voice is insistent and thick with jealousy and the promise of violence.

Before you can pull yourself from Eris’ protective grip, Azriel is tugging on your wrist and bringing you into his side.

Eris bares his teeth to Azriel and fire dances in those strange amber eyes. “Go sit at your master’s feet, dog.”

Azriel laughs darkly and his shadows become a violent wisp of dark that wraps itself around you in a possessive manner.

You swallow down the shame that you feel when Eris looks at you -- like all the power you had just moments ago has been ripped away from you, and now you are just another piece on the board to be bought and sold as your High Lord saw fit.

A pretty whore, painted like some dark Goddess.

You band an arm across Azriel’s chest as he lunges forward in a flurry of movement.

“It’s alright,” you offer Eris an apologetic smile, “I’ve taken too much of your time already.” You say diplomatically, taking Azriel’s hand in your own and pulling away from Eris.

Feyre and Rhysand had given up one of Nesta’s Made daggers in the name of Eris’ continued alliance, surely, one interrupted dance will not jeopardize it.

Eris offers you a taut smile and he bows his head to you, “Very well then, we’ll play later, Little Fox.”

Eris doesn’t so much as acknowledge Azriel as he ventures towards the dias again.

Azriel holds you in place, one hand wrapped around your shoulders and he searches you as if looking for signs of injury. His touch is cold and biting.

“Happy now?” you roll your eyes at him.

Azriel stares coldly at you, his face set like stone, as if carved into the dark stone of the mountain, “not in the slightest.”

You glance hesitantly over his shoulder and see Rhysand and Feyre each sharing a look of subtle fury. Azriel will no doubt be on the receiving end of a mental lashing. If Azriel has cost them this alliance it comes down on you too-

“He touched you and I-,” Azriel’s voice is weighted and serious at the same time you speak out.

“Whatever has passed between us,” you say gesturing between you and him, “it has to end, Azriel.”

If Azriel felt anything at all but cold indifference his face does not show it.

“Because of Eris?” Azriel asks incredulously, his tone full of venom.

“No, of course not,” You say truthfully, “because we are fools to think this will ever be enough.”

A beat of silence lingers in the air between you.

“For either of us.”

Azriel takes a moment to think about it and you see the recognition flash in his darkening hazel eyes, he looks over his shoulder in Elain’s direction. Carefully, measured, he looks at you again.

“You want Elain.” You say matter of factly, even with a hint of sadness, “don’t deny it-- and I…” your voice trails into nothing. An errant whisper of power.

“And what do you want?” Azriel asks, his voice once dark and cruel is something akin to familial.

“I’m not sure yet.” you say thoughtfully, looking back to the dias where everyone regards you and Azriel warily.

Azriel softens and he lets go of your arms and hides his scarred fingertips in the pockets of his dark colored tunic. He runs a hand over his face in regret and looses a shaky breath before laughing again.

“Rhys is going to fucking slaughter me.” Azriel says and you laugh quietly, muttering in agreement as you link arms with his and lead him through the dancing sea of courtiers to the wine table.

Azriel takes a goblet in each hand and offers one to you. The wine is dark and red and stains your lips like blood. The taste is woody and spiced, it tastes a little like Autumn. Azriel leans into the onyx pillar and angles himself away from the prying eyes of the courtiers as they dance.

You’re at his side and move so that his body obstructs the view of Rhysand and Feyre, shunning their ire.

“How pissed do you think they’ll be?” You ask grimly.

“With you?” Azriel asks, cocking a brow in confusion. You only nod and wait for him to continue. Azriel swallows a large mouthful of wine, wiping his mouth with the back of a scarred hand “not at all, you did them a favor-- practically had Eris on his knees.”

“Good.” You meet his eyes and for the first time tonight you feel as though you might just have something to offer.

“Be careful with Eris,” Azriel says gently, his hand on your arm, “not everything he says is to be trusted.”

“But I can trust you?” You ask, thinking back to what Eris had said earlier in the evening.

“Always.” Azriel says.

The orchestral music comes to a dramatic close and you see Nesta and Cassian dancing happily in the crowds. Elain remains on the dias and you catch her eyes as she watches you and Azriel with careful, wide eyes.

“Come on, Shadowsinger,” You say defiantly, pushing yourself from the onyx pillar, “time to face the High Lord.”

Azreil huffs indignantly and pushes away from the pillar, abandoning his goblet and stalking his way to Elain’s side on the dias. She smiles softly at him and you see some of the tension in Azriel’s shoulders dissolve into nothing but a contented ease.

You approach the dias with a quiet reproach and as you meet Feyre’s eyes she croons at you, her smile is once of a brilliant radiant light that spills from her. A stark contrast to the cold darkness that you carry so well.

Eris' voice is dark and serious as you approach The High Lord, his jaw tightens when Rhysand regards him with a cool violet gaze.

“I have my reasons.”

You’re not entirely sure what they’re talking about and when you take your place next to Feyre she places a hand on your arm in comfort. Though it does nothing to settle the acid churning in your stomach nor the storm that is raging inside of you.

“Care to share those reasons with us?” Rhysand asks, picking at an errant thread on his beautiful dark tunic.

For a moment his eyes glaze over, muted violet as he speaks mind to mind with the Autumn Prince.

Rhysand’s lips twitch lightly and you can see that whatever words passed between him and Eris has pleased him greatly-- at least given him the upper hand so that he doesn’t feel threatened but Eris’ commanding presence.

Eris steps forwards again and adds, “Bestides, it is a bonus of course, that in doing so, I would be getting what has been owed to me even since my betrothal to Morrigan.”

Rhysand studies Eris and then casts a fleeting glance along the line to you, standing dutifully at Feyre’s side.

Like the docile, and obedient sister he wants you to be.

A conduit of his dark power. A piece to be played in this game of power and politics.

“Anything I want-- anything at all, whether it be armies from the Autumn Court or your firstborn, you would grant me it all in exchange for the Archeron girl as your wife?”

Azriel, still somewhat territorial, lets loose a low growl that rumbles like thunder through the air.

Eris doesn’t deign to even look in his direction-- instead those haunting amber eyes linger on you. His eyes are soft and dark, burning into yours, and you find yourself caught in the unyielding, all consuming fire that is Eris Vanserra.

Eris turns back to Rhysand. “Not as far as my heir, but yes, Rhysand. You want armies against the human queen? You’ll have them, and anything else you might ask of me.”

“Just for her?” Azriel’s voice is cutting and suspicious as he hones in on Eris Vanserra.

“The girl, and, when the time comes, you’ll aid me in seizing the Autumn Throne from my father.” Eris adds, his eyes shine with that slow-burning fire, “and then you’ll have all the armies you desire.”

Rhysand and Feyre share a look of pure delight, irreverent to anyone else but you see it for what it is. Feral delight at their victory.

“I couldn’t very well let my wife’s sister go into battle unaided, could I?”

I said bring him to his knees, darling. What dark magic is this? What have you done to him? Rhysand’s voice is like night-kissed air in your mind.

Feyre’s laugh rings through you like birdsong and you can’t help the satisfied smirk that curls onto your lips.

You’re about to speak when you catch Eris’ eyes; those strange amber eyes. And then you feel it.

A bond that grows taut and reverberates through the hall, like a ripple of power and a golden thread bridges the distance between your body and his.

“Mate?” Eris’ voice strains with the weight of it, and you feel like light goes all through you, as though you are little more than a shadow or a memory as you allow yourself to sink into the dark waters that live within your mind's eye. “My mate.”

Your name breaks apart in his mouth and in a flash of violet and murky blue you’re greeted by the storm as it breaks over Velaris. On the horizon, dark and ominous as it approaches. You reach the balcony and wade out into the violent night, waiting for the storm to stake its claim to you.

You were born on a night like this, you tell yourself. Like the Gods of old; born from the storms and the seas, to withstand the hardships of this world. To be cruel and merciless and beautiful.

You whisper it, until you feel that bond in your chest grow taut, strained with the distance between you. And as Eris’ emotions run like water into you, for the first time in a long time you allow yourself to feel.

To yield to the storm as it breaks against you with all the force of a great tempest.

#eris x reader #eris x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris fic #eris headcanons #pro eris vanserra #eris vandaddy #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #acotar fanfic #azriel x you #azriel x reader

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i-turned-into-the-stone · 3 months

Text

Manner Matters - Irene Red Velvet × Male Reader

Rape/Non-con, Slight Violence, Blackmail, Pussy Fuck, Creampie

Red Velvet Irene

2,769 Words

The traffic jam devours almost an hour of your precious time because some dumbass had to go and have an accident right when you've got some important shit to do. As an independent plumber, you don't often get offers from big companies with the potential for the fattest paycheck you've seen in your five years of plumbing.

Today, you've already spat out more curses than you can count, and it's still morning. You don't even dare glance at the clock as you pull into the company compound. You know you're way beyond late, but you're still holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, the company will cut you some slack and be open to negotiation.

Your buddy who recommended you to this gig mentioned that you'd be working alongside other hired folks, and you're cool with that. You just need to get in. As you navigate the jam-packed parking lot, filled to the brim with vehicles, you catch sight of a lone empty spot.

Relief floods through you like a tidal wave. Just as you start easing your truck into the spot, a blue KIA Niro zooms past you and snatches the parking space right out from under your nose. Your blood boils as you stick your head out and let out a deafening honk at that little shitbox on wheels.

Nonchalantly stepping out of the car is a chick in a pink mini-dress. The blaring honks from your truck go completely unnoticed by her as she bends down inside her car, rummaging for God knows what.

She's practically flashing her panties in your face, but your anger drowns out any horny thoughts. This woman acts like she owns the whole world. She slams her car door shut and starts fussing with her hair, using the dark-tinted window as a mirror.

You leap out of your truck and march toward her, yelling, "Hey! Are you fucking deaf? Blind too? Didn't you see I was here first?"

Finally, she glances back, acknowledging your existence with a condescending stare. Her eyes sweep over your lumberjack shirt, snug jeans, and brown hiking boots, and she clicks her tongue in disgust.

"You do know you can find another parking spot, right? Don't waste my precious time," she says, well aware that she snatched someone else's spot but completely unapologetic about it. Fueled by rage, you grab her bare shoulder just as she tries to walk away. In an instant, she spins around and slaps you hard across the face. "Don't you fucking touch me, you filthy man!"

With her insult echoing in your head, the woman struts off, leaving you speechless. "What a fucking bitch," you mutter under your breath as you trudge back to your truck. Ain't got time for this bullshit.

You would've parked your truck right behind her car out of pure spite, but that would block two more innocent vehicles, so you reluctantly spend another ten minutes finding a random parking lot nearby. Then you have to trek your ass back to this damn company.

The hiring is going down on the last two top floors, and let's just say you're swiftly shown the door without any second chances. Instead of feeling disappointed, though, you're just straight-up pissed. You're furious that it's etched into your expression, and your teeth are grinding together so hard it's a wonder they don't crack.

You sit in the lobby for what feels like an eternity, spacing out and seething with rage. Finally, you rise from your seat and leave like some damn aimless robot. Your destination? That woman's fucking car.

If it's gone, so be it. But if it's still there... You don't even know what you'll do. By some twisted stroke of luck, that woman is once again checking herself out in the side mirror. Now, as you endure the crushing weight of losing everything, her provocative outfit starts whispering all sorts of evil and nasty shit in your ears.

"Yah, woman," you calmly call out to her.

She turns around, clearly annoyed, and when she recognizes your face, she rolls her eyes. "Really? I already told you not to waste my time."

"Apologize. Once you do that, I'll fucking disappear from your sight like a ghost," you demand, your voice dripping with restrained fury.

She scoffs, her arrogance still in full force. "You want me to apologize? To a filthy man like—"

Without another word, you grip her whole face with one hand, silencing her. You've had enough of her shitty attitude. Then, you slam her back against the side of her car. She pricks your hand, feeble and panicked, as if her weak-ass strength could make a difference.

"Hmph! Mm!" She struggles within your grasp, hitting your arms in a futile attempt to break free. During her feeble attack, her purse slips from her grip and falls to the ground.

However, your attention is diverted by the search for any potential witnesses. You scan the surroundings but find no one in sight. Glancing back down at the woman, you tighten your grip on her face, causing her complexion to grow redder with each passing moment.

A swell of anger transforms into lust as you admire the beauty of her face. "It's such a shame that you're nothing but a bitch," you chuckle, a twisted amusement in your voice. "But who gives a damn? A woman like you needs to be taught a fucking lesson." You can't help but laugh at the double meaning of your statement.

Fear takes hold of the woman, and she shakes her head in a desperate plea for mercy. Checking the area one final time to ensure there are no witnesses, you deliver a powerful punch directly to her gut. The impact is excruciating, causing her knees to buckle, but she can't muster a scream.

Straightening her up, you strike her stomach once more, this time aiming a little to the left. She coughs against your palm, her eyes widening as she blinks slowly. Releasing your grip on her face, you swiftly backhand her, sending her sprawling sideways to the ground.

Unsatisfied with the outcome, you use the roof of her car for balance as you unleash a relentless barrage of kicks to her abdomen and thighs, following it up with brutal stomps to her ribs.

Silenced by the pain, she is unable to call for help. Her chest tightens, making it difficult to draw in a proper breath as consciousness slips away. Your final blow lands squarely on her pelvis, rendering her unconscious in an instant.

"Know your damn place, you snobby whore." Right when you're about to stomp on her again, a ringing flares from her purse. Grabbing the purse on the ground, you dig out her phone. "Kim Taeyeon..." you mutter the caller's name, glancing at the woman on the ground before letting the call end. A message pops up on the screen.

- why aren't you answering?

- whatever irene-ssi…

- come to the office this evening

- or you'll get in trouble

You smash her phone on the ground and start rummaging through her purse. It's just a bunch of random crap until you stumble upon her ID. "Bae Joohyun... What the fuck is Irene then? Celebrity wannabe bitch and a goddamn hag at that," you snicker, mocking her for being in her thirties already, and pocket her car key.

Opening the driver's seat, you toss her stuff inside. After closing the door, you take a moment to look at Irene. Her mini-skirt has ridden up, revealing her smooth and curvy ass. Your teeth scrape across your lower lip as your gaze travels over her milky thighs and slender legs, making your cock throb.

You pop open the back door and squat down. You hoist Irene up from the ground, draping her body over your shoulder and giving her ass a grab. Lifting her legs, you shove her into the car. One leg ends up hanging off the seat while the other leans against the backrest, knees spreading wide.

Irene's dress does nothing to protect her down there anymore. It is a priceless sight, seeing her in such a helpless state. The perfect payback for what she had done to you. And now, you can finally unleash all your built-up frustration on her body as much as you want.

Unbuckling your belt is a piece of cake, even though your hungry eyes are glued on her cameltoe. Climbing onto the seat, you shut the door and kick off your jeans and boxers in one swift motion. Having a knee resting on the seat, you position yourself between her legs.

Giving her hand on her chest a slap to the side, you squeeze her tits through the thin fabric and mold them however you like. Your rock-hard cock presses against her dangling thigh, seeking temporary enjoyment.

You are eager to fuck her pussy as you tear her lace panties. Irene's snatch is fully exposed, a thin layer of pubic hair offering no protection. But merely dominating her body isn't enough. While rubbing her clit with one hand, you smack her face with the other, careful to avoid the bruised side from the backhand earlier. The sound of the impact reverberates in the car.

"Wake up, bitch! Don't think you're getting off easy," you declare, delivering another slap.

Irene begins to stir, hissing in pain as she grimaces. You gather her wrists in one hand and pin them above her head. As she regains full consciousness, the first thing she sees is your face, and then she feels the invading sensation between her legs, causing her eyes to widen.

"You feeling that, huh?" you taunt, pressing your thumb harder against her clit while two fingers graze her slit.

Irene glances down at her pussy. "Get the hell away from me, you creepy fuck!" she shouts, trying to push you away, only to realize that you already had her hands under control. Closing her legs is her next instinct, but you are placed between them.

She is trapped and helpless, her voice her only weapon to resist you, though it seems futile. "Let me go! You disgusting piece of shit! Fuck! Get off me! You filthy, crazy fucker!"

She glances upwards, scanning for any sign of someone outside the car, anywhere. You cease playing with her pussy and deliver a powerful punch to her cheekbone. Instantly, she sees stars, groaning in agony. Cupping her face, you force her to meet your glare.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch! One more word from that foul mouth of yours, and I'll ruin your pretty face," you warn, ensuring she understands the seriousness of your threat.

"Fuck you! You think I'm scared!?" Irene yells defiantly, spitting in your eyes. That's it. She won't understand until she experiences it firsthand.

You release her hands and proceed to choke her. She struggles to pry your hand away, unaware of your true intentions. Fueled by anger, you unleash a torrent of punches upon Irene's face, repeatedly striking her cheeks, chin, and nose.

Her desperate hands gradually move to shield her face, but it's too late. You deliver one final, forceful blow directly under her eyes. Blood streams from her nose, her lips are split on both sides, and bruises emerge on her cheeks, with one eye swelling shut.

When you finally cease, Irene's trembling hands, raised in front of her face, betray her fear, and her breathing becomes rapid and shallow. The sight of her tears brings an absurd sense of satisfaction. Once again, you pin her hands above her head and spit on her wounded face.

You wipe your bloodied knuckles on her dress, marking the end of your assault. Before leaving her, you strike her ribs with a single punch. Irene groans in pain, attempting to recoil, but you firmly grasp her hip and straighten her body.

"No need for your pathetic face anyway. I'll rape your nasty cunt until you learn the meaning of respect," you declare, thrusting two fingers into her pussy, causing her to jerk in shock as you scratch her insides.

Both of you tremble as you vigorously finger-fuck her, causing her legs to tense up. Despite the pain and discomfort, Irene manages to whimper weakly. Her eyes slightly roll up, blinking with feebleness. Her face becomes numb while her pussy continues to be manipulated, causing her body to squirm from side to side. It doesn't take long for Irene to naturally become wet.

As you withdraw your hand, soaked with her urine, you forcefully shove it into her already-opened mouth. "You're nothing but a filthy whore," you insult her, delivering a smack to her breasts.

"N-No... Stop! Don't hurt— Ugh!"

You choke her and guide your cock along her slit before forcefully thrusting it deep inside her pussy in one powerful motion. She's incredibly tight for a bitch, her inner walls gripping your girth. Fully burying your cock inside her, you firmly grasp her toned thigh and gaze down, relishing the sight of her stretched pussy.

"Take it, slut. I'm going to fill you up until you can't spout shit ever again."

You commence rocking your hips back and forth, and your cock penetrates her as deeply as possible, exerting all your strength with each rough jab. As you choke Irene, gripping her windpipe, she can only emit groans while your anger finds release, your balls loudly slapping against her asshole.

Her pussy tightens around your cock as her breathing becomes increasingly difficult. Her toes curl inside her heels, and her hands weakly tap your arm, begging for release from your grip on her neck. But all you do is chuckle at her pitiful state while continuing to fuck her reddened cunt.

Her disheveled face still annoys you, especially as you recall her shitty behavior, but you can't deny the incredible sensation of her pussy. Sensing the impending orgasm, you release your grip on her neck and sit up straight, firmly grasping her waist.

Irene coughs painfully and gasps for air. Her pussy is being stretched even further than before, and she pleads, "S-stop... Pull out—Shit, just fucking stop!"

"Fuck you, bitch. I'm gonna make sure you never forget this day," you declare, hooking an arm under her knee and pushing it towards her chest.

Leaning forward, you exert all your weight onto her as you continue thrusting your cock into her tight pussy. The sound of skin slapping against skin resonates through the car, even causing the vehicle to shake, accompanied by your loud grunt as your climax reaches its peak.

"Ahh... Don't you dare! N-No... please—Ohh!"

With one final powerful thrust, you slam into her and release your fresh load deep inside her womb. Moaning in pure ecstasy, your entire body trembles as you impregnate the arrogant woman who has shattered your golden opportunity.

Irene's head slumps to the side as she takes in your load. The pain on her body and face fades into the background as thoughts of what comes next start creeping in. Meanwhile, you come down from your high and let out a laugh before pulling your dick out with a satisfying 'plop'. Her pussy oozes out an excess of cum.

You ain't dumb enough to just leave her like that. You reach down to grab your phone from your jeans on the floor and snap a few quick shots in succession. You capture her used and swollen pussy, dripping with cum, and finish it off with a picture of her messed-up face.

Irene tries to reach out to you, her weak and sore body struggling. "What the fuck are you doing...? Ain't you had enough, you bastard!?"

You jump to her side and grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her up. "Listen up, bitch. If you try any shit, these nasty pictures are gonna spread like wildfire in this whole district." You show her the explicit shots of her pussy.

"I got plenty of friends who'd pay a fortune for this kind of shit." Tapping your phone against her head, you continue, "So you better show me some goddamn respect next time we cross paths, got it? I'll see you around then, Ma'am Joohyun."

Can't make out Irene's expression under all the beat-up bruises. Not that you care. You got her right where you want her. You shove her back onto the seat and give her a solid knee to the gut, a final warning. She doubles over in pain.

Pulling up your jeans, you spit on her and bounce out of the car. Nobody is around as you fix yourself up, sporting a wicked grin as you walk away.

#kpop smut #irene smut #non con smut #male reader #kpop gg #red velvet smut #hardcore smut #irene #irene red velvet #kpop girls

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imaginesheaven · 11 months

Text

Lonely Water (GN!Reader x TF141)

Lonely Water

GN!Reader x TF 141 (platonic)

Summary: You crash into the ocean with a helicopter during a mission. Waiting for your hopefully on time rescue you relive some of your favorite memories of your team. Kind of inspired by the song “Hold Back The River” by James Bay.

Callsign: Phoenix

Length: Around 2.3k words

Warnings: Swearing as always, angst, mentions of injuries, drowning

“Mayday! Eagle 3 is coming down in the middle of the ocean. The pilot is dead and I have no fucking clue how to fly this thing! … Oh, fucking hell…”

There is nothing but darkness around you. The mysterious but dark night sky with thousand shining stars above you and the deadly ocean lurking beneath you. The water is just waiting for you to lose the last of your endurance so you can sink into its cold embrace.

“I’m stronger than you think”, you hiss at the tiny waves of dark ocean water, but you are actually not sure how much longer you will survive. The cold of the sea comes creeping in what feels for hours now. It made itself a home in your bones so deeply freezing that your lips have turned already blue. The feeling in your arms and legs starts to fade just like your will of survival.

The helicopter sunk within minutes after the horrific crash into the water. There was literally nothing left to cling onto. You wouldn’t be Jack clinging for dear life onto a wooden door, while your true love stays safely above the freezing water.

The thought of the Titanic brings a weak smile onto your lips. At least you still got your humor with you to keep you company.

Darkness fills your mind with the sinking dread that your team probably wouldn’t be fast enough to rescue from this death trap. Your form floats on the water like a dead man hoping to delay the bitter end for just another few minutes.

The exhaustion slowly takes over as your eyes flutter shut desperate for a moment of rest. Cold water comes rushing over your face since the ocean was waiting for its chance to drown you in its embrace. The water is merciless. Adrenaline rushes through your vein bringing back your will to fight. You swim with weak strokes back to the surface. How much longer can you keep up against the sea?

“Oi! Not so fast, Phoenix!”, a familiar voice behind you yells out. The dirt beneath your shoes crunches as you jog through a patch of trees. Wait, a minute. The water surrounding you has vanished? This can’t be real, right? It hast to be a memory.

“Too bad you are so slow, Soap. You could easily catch up with me if you would work out a bit more”, you reply to the familiar voice behind you. Soap stares at you speechless for a second before he speeds up to catch you. Laughing you send him a wink and even put more speed on to outrun him more than easily.

Soap grunts with exhaustion ready to bring you down with him. He jumps forward his arms stretched out. This man is an open book for you for years now. Still grinning you make a step to the side completely out of his reach. Soap falls to the ground without you.

Absolutely pumped you start your little victory dance knowing exactly that in the distance Price, Gaz and Ghost are watching the two of you with binoculars. “That was quite a fall Soap took there”, the Captain comments the downfall of the poor Scott, “Pay up, Gaz.” The young soldier lets out a groan but always pays his bet debts.

“Phoenix could outrun us all, Gaz, never think otherwise”, no matter how often Ghost sees you running he is always mesmerized by your endurance.

“How can you be so damn fast?”, Soap can’t believe he lost once again. You give him a half shrug with your shoulder, “I imagine Death chasing me and what do we say to Death?”

“Not today”, you whisper smiling. The thought of your teammates brings you pure joy despite the fact you are probably going to drown. The only family you ever had and ever needed. For a second you close your eyes hoping to see more memories.

“So, your callsign is Phoenix. What’s the story behind it?”, Gaz asks you with a bright smile on his lips. Sometimes he reminds you of a little boy in a candy store. You can’t believe how much happiness his happiness can bring you.

“Well…”, you start your not so exciting story, but Soap interrupts you immediately: “Phoenix survived a car crash with a big explosion and came back out of its ashes like a Phoenix. Tada! The callsign was born!”

The silence in the room is deafening before you burst out with laughter, “What the hell, Soap?! No, that’s not what happened!” Everyone except Gaz gets a good laugh from this story. He looks so terribly confused and kind of intimidated at the same time.

“Poor Gaz is probably traumatized for the rest of his life. I like to burn things and someone else already had the fucking callsign Pyro so I had to improvise”, you explain him the situation with a few words. The young soldier rolls his eyes. Still a tiny smile on his lips can be seen.

“Have you any idea how hard it was to get Phoenix and Soap as both demolition freaks on the team? Explosions. Fires. Laswell was not happy at all”, Price recalls his quite one-sided conversation with her. The only thing she said was “NO!” over and over again. Well, she also said “FUCKING HELL FOR SURE NOT!” once. But Captain Price gets what he wants in the end.

A tiny tear rolls down your face, but you can’t feel anything anymore. The cold crept into every single fiber of your body. In the end it doesn’t matter anyway. You are still surrounded by water so what matters a single tear escaping? It’s the only one. Way too tired you can’t share more than that tiny tear with the ocean.

“Are you fucking serious? You could have died!”, you hiss angrily at Ghost as you patch the bullet wound in his side up. The tough soldier keeps quiet letting you work. “It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall without a single thought behind those eyes. Except for sacrificing himself for someone else”, you keep going with your monologue. No one dares to speak like that to him. Except you. It’s always you.

Ghost can’t see how your hands are shaking. How the fear takes over your already worry-ridden mind. How you blame yourself for not being fast enough in the end. You could have prevented this from happening.

But Simon knows you better than you yourself sometimes, “Not for anyone. Only for you, Phoenix. I’m sorry, but please stop worrying. Stop blaming yourself. In the end it was my decision. That’s what we do for each other. Keeping each other safe, right?”

Not answering you put away the first med kit finally done with patching him up. Ghost isn’t the one with the soft side, but with you it is so easy to feel safe for once. You stand up hoping to run from this conversation. His hand stops you dead in your tracks as he grabs your wrist, “Right?”

A slight smile appears on your lips still not turning around to face him, “Of course… but you are still a brick wall.” Simon can’t help himself but smile too behind his mask.

What have you done? If Simon would be here with you, he would hold this whole conversation against you. It’s the same reason that has brought you into the middle of the ocean. You wanted to keep them safe. Your team. Your family.

The helicopter was loaded with explosive meant to kill. Bombs. Soap’s favorite. There was no time to defuse them. You had not a single second to think about it. Just enough time to act on impulse. What a great idea to bring the helicopter down over the ocean far away to hurt someone else. But what about you?

“No, you are not stronger than me, Gaz”, Soap puts down the money for his bet. There is never a dull moment with those clowns. A tiny smile appears on your lips as you nurse your lonely drink in your hand.

“What’s so funny?”, Price notices your rather happy facial expression. “Nothing, just happy to be alive”, you reply simply. The Captain doesn’t need an explanation what you mean exactly. He just knows. You don’t need to elaborate how they give you a feeling of being home. How they are like the family you never had before in your life. They are everything you need to be happy.

But now it is time to let go.

Tired you keep your eyes closed as the cold water pulls you down into its embrace. You are not scared anymore to give up this time. Only gratefulness and happiness are present in your heart and mind. The joy you experienced is more than enough for a whole lifetime.

For the last time you open your eyes to see the darkness around you. It was the only friend you had the last few hours. The tiny waves trying to lull you into a memories-filled sleep. The cold making it easier to let go. You have been tired for so long already. Tiny air bubbles escape and leave you behind.

The darkness lurks beneath you, but above the water surface shines a strange light. Is that the beacon of hope you were looking for the whole time? There are voices too, but you can’t understand what they are yelling. You are sinking further and further. Far away from the light.

Above the lonely water your team is looking for you desperately.

The thought sends a surge of energy through your body. As hard as you can you wave your arms and legs completely uncoordinated. Still the movement brings you closer to the surface. You can’t give up now. Not so close to them.

Your whole body is numb and hurts at the same time terribly. The ocean gives its best to keep you to itself. The cold clouds your mind. Are you paddling into the right direction? Are you going further down?

Then your arm breaks through the surface. But that’s all you had left in you.

Something grabs your hand so tight you almost screamed out loud because of the pain. Your head is still underwater. There is another tightness in your lungs screaming for just a tiny bit of fresh air.

Slowly you get dragged out of the darkness. Leaving the ocean behind. You take a gasping breath. The world outside the water is so overwhelming. The lights blind you for a moment. The loud noises roar in your ears. Pure chaos. For a moment you miss the calming darkness of the ocean.

A slight smile would appear on your lips as you see the faces of your teammates, but that’s too much for now. Gaz and Soap have their hands tightly on your arms, while Price and Ghost try to heave you into the helicopter by your tactical vest. All your gear got extremely heavy soaked with ocean water to the brim. You wish you could help them out, but you reached your limit of energy a long time ago. They lower you to the ground finally freed of the water.

“We got Phoenix. Go, Nik”, Price gives his order to Nicolai. Your favorite Russian pilot. Ghost and Soap try to get rid of your tactical vest together. Gaz stands ready with a blanket to warm you up. They keep talking to you, but you can’t quite follow their words. Your mind still frozen in place.

“Hey, hey. You broken?”, John puts his hand on your ice-cold cheek to get your attention. This time you can manage a weak smile, “Define broken, Captain.” He lets out a deep sigh full of worry but more than happy to hear your voice once again.

“Don’t ever do this again, muppet. You were out there the whole night. We- … We literally thought you were gone. Want to sit up?”, Price grabs your shoulder softly too scared to hurt you after what you went through. Ghost on the other side helps you too to sit up.

The sun starts to rise on the horizon bringing another day to this earth. Another day you are able to see. Another day to be alive.

“You damn lucky bastard. The endurance from your jogging probably saved your ass out there”, Simon can’t believe he gets another chance to see you again. It breaks his heart to see you beaten up and weak like this, but you are alive.

“What do we say to Death?”, Soap asks you grinning like always. “Not today”, you reply enjoying the little inside joke the two of you have.

Price puts his leg behind your back so you can relax yourself against him. Ghost rests his hand on your shoulder letting himself feel grateful to have you back. Soap sits next to you. Shoulder against shoulder. Just like out in the battlefield. Gaz holds one of your hands in his to get them back to normal temperature.

Your little family.

Lonely Water

Let us hold each other

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iouinotes · 4 months

Text

Beautiful Boy | Alex Walter

pairing: Alex Walter x female!reader

show: My life with the Walter Boys

warnings: mostly fluff and love confessions, but a bit of implied sexual activities

word count: 4,6k

summary: You are completely in love with your best friend. When the chance is given, you decide to finally take it and show your love.

a/n: The story will mention a review from the past, where they play truth or dare. So, I was inspired to write that scenario: match made in heaven is here!

He's everything I ever wished for. It´s silly, thinking about it, really. My ongoing crush for him since the first time I met him all these years ago.

It was during the first day after the winter holiday. It was dark outside, very cold and rainy weather. Well, unfortunately it did not look like that in the morning, so I instantly panicked after school, because I forgot to bring my jacket. Normally one of my friends picked me up after school and drove me home, but she was sick today and I heard about her being ill, last minute.

So now I´m standing in the hallway, debating if I should better start to go to the bus station (probably getting soaked) or if I just walk to the school library, hoping that the weather cools down. I was drowning in my own thoughts, when I first heard his voice.

"Are you okay?" The second my eyes landed on him, I was gone for good. Because the boy in front of me was utterly beautiful. Handsome round face, freckles, warm brown eyes and a shy smile. One look at him and I fell in love with his beauty. Little did I know, I would soon fall head over heals for his personality or the way his voice sounds when he is making fun of me, because I believe in love at first sight. How could I not, when I have met him?

He was very caring the first time we met. Even though I was embarrassed of my situation, he made me feel comfortable. When I told him about my difficulty, he instantly helped me out. He told me, that his brother also picked him up from school every day, so it wouldnt be a problem, if I came along. Not only this sweet gesture made me speechless, it was also the way he stripped out of his jacket and gave it to me without hesitation, when we went outside and he saw that I didnt bring a jacket.

"What? No, I can´t-" I tried to argue, but one blink of his lashes, one look at his eyes, was enough to keep me occupied. "My mom would kill me, if I didnt. It´s okay, I dont mind." He really was the sweetest. His jacket kept in fact, keep me warm. And it also smelled like him, thats what made me blush in the end. I didnt know, if he noticed me looking at him from time to time (but then again, he nowadays didnt noticed it either), but I could not contain myself.

He was a gentleman, shy and adorable. He was all I wished for in a guy. When his brother - who I idetified as the most popular guy of our school- Cole, came in sight, only then it clicked. The boy in front of me, with his nervous smile, was Alex Walter.

When the car parked and the headlights were visible in the rain, we quickly ran to the blue vehicle. His brother didnt talk much, so the car ride was mostly quiet, my eyes were out the window and my thoughts were on Alex previous gesture of holding the door open for me. He didnt intend for me to fall in love with him, but I couldnt think of anything else to do, better than exactly that.

"I didnt get your name?" was all he said, when the car stopped in front of my house. "Oh right, sorry. Im y/n." He smiled again at me and my heart wanted to jump out off my chest. I didnt really notice Cole in the front and his famous "Cole effect". I was all catched up, by the beautiful boy next to me.

"Alex" he shook my hand and it made me giggle. I saw his ears turning pink at my laughter, so I smiled at him, so he knew I wasnt making fun of him. He relaxed then, but much to my dislike the blonde brother spoke up, before I could say something else. "I dont have all day, so are you two done looking at each other or can you go now? I swear, I saw y´all nearly kiss." At that, I was the one who turned red. "Sorry, thanks for the ride and-" as I wanted to strip off the jacket, Alex stopped my movements. "Oh no, you can have it. I mean- it´s still raining outside, I-I dont want you to get sick." Maybe I was already at that exact moment, falling in love with him. I also think, that his words made my cheeks turn a shade of red, that wasnt even on a scala anymore, because it was so high.

"But when do I give it back to you?" The last thing I wanted to do, was crossing a line with the Walter brothers. And maybe I also hoped to see him again. "Tomorrow? I will be in the gaming room in third grade. If thats okay with you?" He spoke quickly, because Cole kept getting more annoyed. "No, its fine. Thank you, Alex." I kissed him on the cheek (dont know where that one came from) and before I could look back, I was already out of the car and running towards the house. When I opened the door and the warmth embraced me, I looked out of the window from my house. The car was already gone, but I remember smiling so bright, I almost could not contain the happy feeling that consumed me.

That was the first time, my diary heard of Alex Walter.

The next day, I searched through three gaming rooms before I finally found him, starring at his laptop. As soon as I tapped him gently on the shoulder, he turned around and looked at me suprised. When he asked me, if I had had any trouble finding him, I said "what no, it took five minutes", when in reality it took 20 minutes, but he sounded really sincere, so it didnt matter.

That was the start of our ever-lasting friendship. We became best friends quickly and are verly close ever since, he is my other half. We are always together, in the hallway, at lunch, we see each other at the weekends and we even got the price "the best of best friends" by our friendgroup. I mean it was funny and its nice, really. But it says everything. We are just friends.

It´s very funny actually, because he knows me better than anyone and I can´t keep one secret from him. He just knows, when something is up. But my biggest secret of all time, that was the part where he was clueless about.

My love for him.

He just doesnt notice and I tried to not show it, but everyone knows I like him. Well, expect for him. When I look at him too long, because I (again) got lost in his eyes or looked a second too long at his lips, while he talked, he thinks he has something on his face. When I compliment him, for literal anything, he thinks I make fun of him, so he doesn't take it seriously. And I tried almost everything, so he could finally notice. Maybe then he could make the first move.

I once talked about my ideal type, because it was a truth or dare on my birthday party and I literally described him - he didnt notice. I swoon on a daily basis over his beauty, his intelligence , his personality, his habits, his cute flaws like staying up all night to play a video game - he doesnt know. I tried to learn his favorite video game, I read the Lord of the Rings saga, I even watched baseball games with him, I do anything so he will notice, how much I care about him. But he just doesn't get it.

If I would know, he simply didnt like me that way, I could somehow cope with that. But then, there are moments, where I would catch him starring at me, where he seems to be the one wanting me. He watches romantic movies with me and lets me cry about it after, when I´m sad about the ending, Sometimes I even get to lay on his chest. He listens when I talk about my newest book obsession, he goes shopping with me, even though he hates it. He helps me studying and I can tell him anything, he´s always there for me.

So it could be, that maybe my feelings were not completely unrequited. But then again, why didnt he made a move by now? Nevertheless, it keeps me awake at night. Because I want nothing more than to kiss his soft lips, feel his skin against mine, to look at his eyes and study every single freckle from his neck to his forehead. I want to love him. In a way, he knows it.

These feelings, these thoughts are constantly in my head. Especially now, when I sit across him and simply look at his concentrated face. His eyebrows are drawn together, he´s currently biting on his bottom lip, his nose scrunched in a frown. The light of his room shows me every little detail of his face. In moments like this, on a friday evening, where we study together for a biology test, I wish he would know how I feel about him. Because it would make everything so much easier.

Its currently raining outside, a remember of our first encounter, the clouds are dark and I hear loud thunder since the last couple of minutes went by. "Do you think, it will get better? The weather clearly looks bad." I shift my gaze to look at him and when I catch him starring at me, my heart swells in my chest.

I want to break the distant between us and close the gap of our lips. Want to get to know every little detail of his body. But as he speaks up, I clear my head. "I dont know, Danny said something about a storm. I honestly didnt know, it would be that bad." He closes his textbook and stands up, looking out the window. ,,Should I go?" My question suprises him. "Now? I think if you take a step outside, you will get swept up by your feet. It´s not safe." He looks at me unwary. "I dont know, I always wanted to fly. Maybe thats a sign." I grin at him and he laughs quietly. "Yeah, of course. Let me ask my dad, what he thinks is for the best. Maybe he can get you an umbrella and you do your best Mary Poppins impression."

~~~~~~

30 minutes later I find myself in a full-on Walter-family-disscussion. "But uncle! I dont get to have girls stay overnight. Thats unfair!" Lee is looking at George, unable to hide his jealousy. "When did a girl ever wanted to stay overnight with you?" Isaac asks from across the table. Lee just ignores him, an angry look in his eyes.

"Look, its nothing that I will allow forever. But right now, she cant go home, so she is welcomed to stay here." I smile at him, thankful that I´m not getting thrown out. "Also, she is like a thirteen family member. She´s practically living here." George added. One look at Alex and I wanted to know what he was thinking. Was I just like a sister to him? "Okay enough of that. Y/n, dear you are welcome to stay the night. We will figure it out. Nathan is staying with Skylar, so his bed is free." I´m glad, Katherine is here. I thank her and George and by the time, we ate dinner and Alex got me a toothbrush, so I could get ready for bed, it was late after 11.

As I make my way back to Alex's room after using the bathroom to change into my clothes, leaving me with shorts and a shirt, Cole is suddenly standing next to me. "Well, what a great opportunity for you." He grins at me. At his comment, I am visible confused. "What do you mean?" I look up to his smiling figure. "You have him all by yourself, of course. Your chance to finally do something. I can´t stand it anymore, you like him and he likes you. I always thought you were the clever one out of you two, so please put everyone out of this misery and kiss him, because he´s a complete idiot. It's long overdue for you two to get together."

His words leave me stunned. After he´s done talking, he makes his way silently back to his own room and I´m still standing in the hallway, trying to process his words. Kiss him. He likes you. Does Alex really likes me or is that some cruel joke for Cole? I hope not. Because my friends have told me several times, that they think, Alex likes me too. But I always thought, they were wrong.

My heart is heavily pounding as I make my way back to his room, taking a deep breath as I open the door. Alex is playing a video game, as always, but I see that he also changed into something more comfortable. It helps me calm down my nerves, when I see him doing something, he always does. I take a few steps towards his chair and his concentrated figure.

I mean, what was there in life, if I didnt take any risks? If he likes me back, it could be the answer to all my dreams and if not - well, the weather was still going pretty bad and could help me out of the awkward situation.

When I decided to test their he-likes-you-too-theory, I quickly came up with a plan. Okay, so I wasnt the best at flirting, that was for sure, but I could make a move. For starters, I wanted something, I often thought about.

As I stand behind him, I trace my fingers along his shoulders, hearing his surprised breath, that he quickly tries to hide. Well too bad, I heard it.

"Alex?" My voice is quiet.

"...yes?" I can see his muscles tense, while I keep touching his shoulders, going lower until I touch his arm. Something about what Cole said, about Alex liking me, gives me a certain confidence, that wasnt there before. Please dont let the King of hooking up be wrong.

"Could I borrow one of your hoodies? I´m freezing and only have my shirt." I try not to think about the possibility that he laughs in my face and says no. But then again, I know that Alex wouldnt do that. "I-uh, yeah. You can, um, grab one out of my closet." I smile to myself, when I see his eyes nervously scanning the display. He paused the game, even though he doesnt look at me while he talks.

"Thanks." As I turn towards his closet, I get the feeling that he´s secretly watching me choose a hoodie. When I get a hold on a dark green one, I immediately know its the one from when we first met. I take it and walk towards the other bed, getting a glimpse of his eyes, that continue to follow me. And then I do something, I thought I would never do in front of him. I change out of my top, the cold air hitting my skin and I hear him gasps.

When I change into his hoodie, a settling warmth embraces me. I smile to myself, a joy blooms in my chest, the feeling of wearing his clothes, makes me feel too good to be true. The shorts I´m wearing are the same ones as before and I think, that I kinda like the casual look. And maybe it looks fine, that could be a good way to get Alex attention. My shorts cover my thighs, but because his hoodie is bigger than what I normally wear, this way it looks like I only wear his hoodie.

When I turn around and fix my hair, he already started another game again. Okay, mission getting-some-sort-of-reaction, is starting to get interesting. "Soo, what do you think? Too big?" I wait for his reaction. When he slowly turns around, one hand holding up his headphones, I see him trying not to stare too hard. But since I see his eyes scanning my body, it´s impossible for him to pretend. I smile to myself.

"And?" I make a step in his direction, watching him swallow. His eyes wander to the floor and a nervous expression crosses his face. "I- I need to finish this game so-" he turns around so fast, I´m almost surprised his neck didnt broke. Shit. That wasnt part of the plan. I glance around the room, trying to come up with something, another way to keep his attention at me. I sit on his bed, near his computer and decide to watch him play. I hear the sound of the game playing in the background, while I continue to think of a way for him to notice me.

And even though I keep my hands to myself, I see him sqirming in his seat. I laugh quietly. "Everything okay?" it seems he isnt that concentrated anymore. "Yeah, uh, are you bored? You never watch me play." His head turns to look at me. "You could teach me some moves." I say, looking at him and then the game, that shows a spider attacking some creature. He raises his eyebrows at my words.

"You sure? I thought you didnt like video games." My eyes wander to his lap as I quickly come up with a plan. "Maybe I will like it, if you show me some tricks. And also, I like you and you´re really interested in gaming, so I thought I could make an effort." His cheeks are blushing, my eyes are starring at his clueless ones.

A smile tucks at his lips, but he tries to keep his cool. "I mean, I´m really good at this, so I could teach you one or two lessons. Where do you want to sit? I only have one gaming chair, but-" he glances around the room, trying to come up with something.

"Well, we could share?" I ask, my voice sounding sincere and not as much thrilled at the idea, to sit in his lap, even though I am freaking out in my thoughts. His eyes widen, when he realizes what I just said.

"You want to-" he doesn't finish his sentence, stuttering at the idea of me sitting on his lap. "If thats okay with you, of course? I think its the best solution, I mean I do want the full experience. So its fair." I see him nervously licking his lips. "Yeah, yeah. I get that. Okay, cool, how do you want to-" I smile at him and his nervous speech. "Just relax, I dont bite. You do know that, right?" I laugh when I see his ears turning pink.

"Right. So uh, come here, I guess?" He puts his arms on the armrests to give me good access and I feel myself getting nervous. God, I never got to be this close to him. I stand up, his eyes take my form in his sweater in, I see him starring at the naked skin. And when I see something shining in his hair, I act without a second thought.

"You have something in your hair, dummy." It's a little paper ball from Benny, probably from the previous dinner (fight), I lean myself down, facing him forward in his lap and cross my legs over his thighs. I don't notice what position we are in until I lean back to show him the piece of paper and suddenly, I'm just a few centimeters from his face. Shocked by the less to no space we have left between us, he doesn't speak and neither do I. We just look at each other.

"i-i got it." The words leave my mouth, the distance between our faces -god his lips look so soft- leaves me speechless. It takes him a moment, but when he answers he sounds just as out of breath as me.

"thanks."

Again, we sit in silence. Suddenly I loose my balance and I almost fall out of the chair, but his arms are quick to catch me. So now, he has his arms around my waist and my arms linger around his shoulders for support. If I would lean closer, I could kiss him.

The thought of kissing him, makes me sqirm and when he lays his hands onto my waist to still my movements, I feel dizzy. Because Im not just sitting on his legs. Indeed, I sit literally on his lap. So when I feel myself getting wet, because he makes me so touch starved, I completely loose my mind.

"Im sorry- i didnt mean to sit that way. I just-" his eyes are so fascinating, brown, green and warm. It feels like he´s looking at my soul. He´s watching my every move. I know I should probably get up, but its the first time, he is that close to me and I cant stop looking at him.

Without a thought in my head, I raise my hand and touch his cheek. I see his lips breaking apart, so he can draw a surprised breath. "You have so many freckles everywhere." My eyes wander around his face. His voice comes back to life for a second, but only to sign. "Too many, actually." I draw my eyebrows together.

"It suits you and it´s not too much. Thats a perfectly fine amount of freckles. Look-" I start to count them. Each and every one. Starting from his ears towards his cheeks, his nose, further down until I stop at his lips. "You have one right above the corner of your mouth." I mutter, my thumb brushes his lips for a second.

Caught, my eyes sneak back to search his gaze. But he just looks at me. My heart feels like it could break any second, if I dont open my mouth to say something.

"You are" I begin to say "so beautiful to me. Every freckle you have, the colour of your eyes, your hair, your lips, your voice, just you."

I cant hold back anymore.

"i-i love you, Alex. I really do. I thought it would just be a crush that would go away, when time goes on, but it hasnt. You´re in every piece of my heart, you hold it together. You are my joy, my laugh, my sadness, you were everything for me, the first second I got to know you. Because you are the best person in my life, my best friend, my other half, my partner in crime, I would bail you out of jail in a heartbeat. Without you, my heart wouldn't beat anymore anyway. Because you make it live. Every day, every time I see you. Maybe if I would have known better, I would have never agreed to take your jacket, the first time we met. If I would have known, how absolutely in love I would get with you, it would have scared me to death. But now? Now I know better than to be away from you, because I better live as your best friend than without having you in my life. Because now, being away from you would be my death."

In one second, I bail my heart out and before I know it, he takes my face in his hands and leans forward. He stops his movement right before our lips touch.

"I think you will be the death of me too, sweetheart."

And with that, he kisses me.

Slow at first, his lips touch mine, so very soft and gentle. I almost think I´m dreaming, because his lips do feel like a dream to me. His hands caress my back and I clutch to his shoulders, afraid the moment will end. His warm hands strive back to my cheeks, tilding my head in a way he can have more access.

And I let him, mainly because I´m too caught up with this emotion and also because I would let him do anything with me. My hands are in his dark hair, gently tugging at his strings, so I get to hear that little breathless sound he makes, that makes my heart flutter.

I sink in his warm embrace, moving my lips with the same rhythm as him, hearing my heartbeat in my ears. His right hand goes to the back of my neck and this action makes me weak in the knees. And he notices it. Gently he breaks apart, leaving me with the want to have more of him and when I open my eyes - I didnt know I closed them - he looks at me, like I´m the sun and he´s the moon, that was away for too long.

"God, you´re so beautiful." His voice is deep, I can hear him catch his breath. His words make my heart ache until I think it isnt able to comprehend his compliment. I feel his lips again, my eyes flutter at the contact. One hand around my hip, holding me steady and the other one, around my neck, making me unsteady.

"alex-" a moan wants to escape me, but I try to hold myself together. His lips leave my mouth and trail further down, finding a spot at the curve of my neck.

"god, yes. Say my name again." I´m pretty sure, I never wanted him more than now.

My hands linger in his hair, I feel his hot breath on my skin and clench my thighs together. He is making me feel all worked up. As his lips leave that spot, I whimper his name, but as soon as his mouth leaves my body, he reconnects with it.

Brushing my hair aside, he kisses me again for a second before he lets go of me. With that, im completely convinced he hates me, the way he´s making me suffer. I hear him quietly laugh, so I slowly open my eyes to watch his face.

"You look drunk on love. Are you alright?" He smiles at me, looking at me, like he didnt just turn my world up site down (and my panties wet, by the way).

"What?" I ask, catching my breath. His skin glows and as I watch every detail of his face (how could I not), I almost miss his next sentence. "I would have never thought that this was your idea of gaming." I feel his shoulders move, when he tries to keep himself from laughing.

I gently smile and roll my eyes. "You are just too handsome for me, to concentrate on anything other than you." His cheeks turn red and there´s a glimmer in his eyes, that makes me feel completed. "So that´s why you have bad grades in math, maybe I shouldnt be sitting next to you then." His joke makes me laugh.

"Well, maybe you can give me some private lessons, so I could improve." At that, he opens his mouth, but no words are said. "Too stunned to speak?" I lean forward, his eyes follow my lips. "You just never flirted with me, its distracting." He looks up.

I just shake my head. One of my hands sneaks around to linger at his cheek. "Oh, trust me. I have. You just never noticed." His eyebrows rise. "Thats a shame. But I guess I have now." He catches my lips.

Yes, he definitely did notice me now.

#my life with the walter boys #alex walter #cole walter #love confessions #beautiful #love #rainyday #x reader #in love

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lujingheswife · 6 months

Text

and it felt like home again.

summary: when he gets drowned in exhaustion and homesickness, the first thing he wishes for is home.

featuring: oikawa tooru

word count: 729

cw: gn!reader, timeskip!oikawa tooru, comfort, oikawa is just homesick, not proofread, intentional lowercase, a bit of fluff <3

author’s notes: wanna write a fic of a character feeling homesick and exhausted (because i was) and oikawa was the first person that came into my mind! hope you enjoyyy

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

it was seven o clock in the evening.

tooru limply stepped into his rented apartment, the familiar loneliness welcoming him with silence. his eyes felt droopy from lack of sleep, his body sore from multiple rounds of exercising and his arms bruised from the strong receives.

he should be used to this, which he is, yet it happened to be one of those days when he felt absolutely, dreadfully exhausted.

he would be lying if he says he does not want to go home; he really wanted to. the countless practices had always made him wanting to just pack his bags and leave. he missed his family and his mother’s home cooked meals, he missed enjoying authentic ramen at the restaurant near his high school, he missed being in the arms if his partner just taking his time to relax.

he missed his home.

tooru placed his bags by the entrance, not bothering to arrange them somewhere. he kicked his shoes off without caring to keep them nicely in the shoe rack. he let his legs drag him towards the nearest, softest place he could find to rest— the sofa.

the apartment was dark although illuminated by the light lingering in the evening sky. he heavily rested an arm over his eyes, a loud sigh escaped his lips.

the first person that came into his mind was you.

he wanted to see you.

tooru suddenly thought of his phone that was left forgotten in his bag. he slightly lifted his arm to take a peek at his bag, but ignored it after.

whatever, not in the mood...

just a little longer maybe.

when his eyes could no longer bear the weight of his consciousness, they finally put him into slumber.

he found himself in a dream. he was in a field of grass with nothing else around him. every direction he went showed no signs of obstacle, only an endless field.

what was he searching for?

where was he going?

he continued walking aimlessly.

ah... how long have i been walking for?

the sound of a bell ringing came to him from the front. it caught his attention, and his legs picked up the pace. there he was, running towards where the bell rung from in hopes of a destination.

a flash of light blinded him.

tooru jotted awake from the sofa as the sound of the ringing doorbell continued echoing the apartment. confused, he definitely recalled not ordering any food delivery today nor did he invite anyone to come over.

"coming," he called. he groggily dragged himself towards the door, not bothering to check his phone again.

his hand reached for the doorknob as he unlocked it open. he had not look at who the person is, yet the shoes definitely belonged to someone familiar. "do you need anythi-"

"tooru!"

what?

his once droopy eyes widened immediately at the familiar voice calling for his name. his head shot up from facing the floor, immediately locking eyes with you.

you stood in front of his door with a big backpack clinging onto your back like a koala and a luggage standing next to you. you were there, physically, in front of him, plastering a grin that he loved so much on your face. "you did not answer my call," you said as you pouted your lips on purpose, yet he was sure that you were simply amused at your boyfriend's reaction.

tooru remained speechless as he observed you top to toe, confirming whether its the real deal, his precious partner, in front of his doorstep. was it a coincidence that you somehow magically appeared in front of him like an angel during the times when he needed you the most? probably.

his hand left the door knob as he immediately pulled you into a tight, warm embrace. how surreal did it feel when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, enjoying the coziness he longed to feel. he felt you responding to his hug as you returned it, and he could feel your familiar scent tickling his nose saying, "it's been a while!"

he stayed with you for a little longer before getting pestered to help you with your heavy bags. he asked no questions, just clinging onto you like a helpless toddler and ended the day with a cuddle.

and it felt like home again.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa tōru #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru imagine #oikawa tooru x y/n #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa fluff

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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 23 days

Text

A Deuce Spade x Female Reader Drabble

“Deuce~”

He hears it again, he always does. Whenever he’s alone with his thoughts.

Your voice, so soft and beautiful, so utterly captivating it could lure a siren to their demise, ringing in his head, filling his senses.

You drive him mad. Here he is, lying in the darkness of his dormitory amongst the sleeping figures of his fellow Heartslabyul first years, and instead of drifting off to peaceful dreams like he planned to do, he’s caught in the euphoric torment of you.

Even with his eyes closed he could see you so clearly, those bright, enchanting eyes, that angelic smile.

“Deuce~”

A laugh, a giggle, that breathtaking grin that never fails to leave his speechless, aching and wanting.

He wants to say it, he wants to say those three simple words so badly it makes his lungs burn in ways that he wasn’t even aware was possible. But when he sees you, the girl who wears heaven’s light so flawlessly, the words get lodged in his throat, unrelenting to the desperate tempest that rages in his head, to the searing he feels whenever your hands touch his.

But could he dare to whisper it, now? In the dead of night, to the vision behind his eyelids. A nimbus of light surrounding you, a seraphic glow of white and gold lacing your form, gently caressing your figure like even it was in too much awe to touch you.

“Deuce~” your mirage sings, beckoning him closer.

He can feel incorporeal hands cupping his cheeks, can see the galaxies of twinkling stars dancing in your eyes before lips touch lips, fingers curl in his hair, hands press your waist closer to him and he’s drowning in the pleasure of it and-

The clock strikes twelve. The spell is broken. He exhales.

He tosses and turns, willing himself to try and get some sleep.

He can always hope for tomorrow.

If he can face you again that is.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #deuce spade x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #fem reader

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chadleys · 8 months

Note

Yandere ascended Astarion is taking human reader's virginity. Knowing that he is her first man (and her last man of course) the only man she will ever have in her life. She is completely his. Corrupting her for himself. She has given him everything, her heart, her first kiss, her love and now her body too, her innocence, her virginity, her purity. He will make her impure, will ruin her innocence slowly. In his(actually their) bedchamber, reader is lying on their lavish bed, shy and naked, all for him, just for him, only for him, every inch of her body is now belong to Astarion, her husband. He will never allow anyone else to see her like this, completely bare, vulnerable, shy in front of him. This view is only reserved for him. Her shyness is only reserved for him. Knowing that no one else has touched her before, no one else has seen her before like this and he is the only man who will provide her pleasure, who will hold her naked in his arms for eternity. She is his dark consort, his treasure, his one true love. She is eager to learn how to please him, eager for him to teach her how to please him. She is innocent so she doesn't have any idea about it but he will teach her, how much he will enjoy teaching her about his pleasure, about her own pleasure, their pleasure together, their collective ecstasy. It's all about her, it's her first time, he will make it memorable for her, something special that she will never be able to forget. She is nervous, so she requests him to be gentle with her, to not hurt her, aww, too cute but he will please her no matter what she says. So he does what exactly in his mind, he eats her pussy again and again, he made her cum in his mouth again and again until she is crying with overstimulation, until she is writhing underneath him, panting and crying with overstimulation and immense pleasure. And then he took her virginity and made her cum on his cock again and again, cumming inside her, painting her insides with his seed, thick cum spruting inside her pussy, soothing her overstimulated, aching walls. By now, she has become a moaning mess, in a daze, repeating his name, only his name from her delicate, sweet, kissable lips, this is the most beautiful sight he has ever seen, her lying underneath him, squirming, panting, crying out his name, messy hair all over his pillow, her petal soft lips, scent of her body is so intoxicating, its literally drowning him, her innocence is too good to be ruined, he can't wait to ruin her even more. From now on, he made a promise to himself, determined, that every single night he will ruin her like this, more than this infact. That he will sleep with her every single night, he will not let her go, she is his. Only his. His precious, his consort. That night, he made love to her again and again until she is on the verge of passing out, it was too much for her, it was her first time which she will never be able to foget, truly, she will remember it for the rest of her life. Astarion was successful in making it memorable for her.

anon im

im actually speechless

you really have a way with words, please share more!! this was so beautiful and hot to read 😭🧛‍♀️😭

#bleas this is amazing #astarion x reader #not my hc #ask #anon

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fanfic-gallery · 2 months

Text

love at first dive

merman! neuvillete x gn human! reader

|| fluff, fluff and more fluff

» manager's note: happy valentine's day to my single babies and not forgetting my lovebirds out there too; i remembered i didn't make a valentine's fic last yr- so so sorry about that ヽ(*。>Д<)o゜hope this small little fic makes up for it thooo, and with that said - hope you enjoy, love ya <3

"there you are!"

marine eyes rolled towards that blaring voice of yours - there you stood, by the shores, arms crossed. he couldn't help but smile at the illusion of a miniature 'you' by the bay waiting on him. what nostalgia, he thought; reminiscing a time where you two were trapped in the same position months ago

"worry not, sir- i'll get you out of there!"

there he laid, basking in the blue hues of the moonlight; silver locks flowing within the grasp of the lake, surrounding his head like halo; enjoying the eerie silence of the pine forest yet there you were - scrambling to fix a life float with worn out rope to get to him. you launched the thing into the waters, nudging it forward with a large pole.

head rose from the surface of the waters, webbed fingers softly griping at the inflatable, jolting as it drags him towards the shore.

"are you alright-"

he felt the atmosphere tensing, your eyes lingering at the soft-sculpting of his features; his glittering skin, fin-like ears, broad frame.

"...is something the matter, little one?"

"ah- i-it's nothing- it's just-"

"...just?"

"nevermind- l-let's get you out of here-"

he shook his head as you stuck your two arms out for him.

"can you not move? are you injured?!"

"...far from it..."

filed nails trailed up your palms...

"WAH-!"

SPLASH!

...before pulling you into the shallow depths; yet, you didn't seem to be in any state of panic - bright eyes staring at him starry and full of shock. he could only guess that you took notice of the shimmering scales across his his fish tail, colours of blue and purple in patches covering his figure.

so mesmerised that you barely saw the bubbles your were releasing from your parted lips; the merman smiled softly at the sight, right hand clasping against yours while the other held at your waist, tugging you into him before rushing you both back up to the water's top.

"GASP-"

the merman carefully patted at your back, as you coughed out the liquid you had managed to shallow in your few seconds within.

"...i'm sorry for scaring you, young one... it's just... i couldn't help but give ya a little tease,"

"cough- i-it's alright, mister- just- try not drowning your victims next time-"

"...will do."

"anyways, cough- do you live here?"

"...no, sadly."

"what- then did someone move you here from the ocean?!"

"...no either."

"then..."

"i was taken in by a family who lived in a nearby village; regretfully, the leaders found out about my secret and decided to sentence me to death- luckily... i was able to escape and that's how i ended up here..."

you were quiet, speechless even.

"...so you're homeless?"

"it would seem so..."

"why don't you stay with me?"

"...pardon?"

"i have an extra room or more like you could live in the tub- plus, it's quite lonely living in the woods all alone..."

"..."

"well- you can stay here too if you-"

"...i'd be happy too."

"wait- really?"

he nodded.

"that's- that's great- do you need me to pick you up then- transport you into the house or-"

"no need for that, i have my ways..."

"come now- dinner's ready!"

he stood from his position in the waters, swimming over all while chuckling at your huff of annoyance. reaching the borders of the water - he took a slight leap, and within a flash of light, his tail turned to a pair of legs clothed in black trousers; waist-up, dress-shirt underneath a dark-marine vest. soft, pale hand combed through his now dried mane before strolling back to the cozy, small cottage up ahead.

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xxxdreamscapexxx · 1 year

Text

Burning for you

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 7k

Summary: Well... I’m not gonna lie, this is just pure smut with no plot at all, but I can promise you a lot of passion and tender moments.

Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, oral, fingering, magic use, magical restraints, finger sucking, strap on sex, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader Masterlist with all my works.

Opening the door of your house, the first thing you were met with was the soft glow of dozens of candles. They were scattered around the living room, the air permeated by the smell of wax and different blended scents. Their soft orange flames seemed to heat up the room, their light reflected by the different objects, turning the space both mysterious and inviting. Soft music played in the background, almost drowned out by the sound of heels clicking against the pristine hardwood floors of your home. Wanda! She sensed you were home and she was coming down the stairs slowly. The first thing you saw was her figure, no more than a shadow in the dimly lit space she was occupying. For a moment you thought it was distorted, two pointed horns easily defined even in the near-darkness, before you realized it must have been her crown. When she stepped into view, the outline of her curves becoming solid milky flesh, you couldn’t help but gasp. She was breath-taking. She did indeed wear her crown… And not much else. Her red lingerie set left very little to the imagination and her red, high heeled shoes made her look even taller and more domineering. But what really left you speechless was the way her eyes flickered from green to red the instant she saw you. She was a blend between a goddess and a sex demon and your mouth ran dry just at the thought of what she’ll do to you tonight. “Welcome home, my love.” She spoke evenly, her fondness for you laced with every syllable that left her lips. You wanted to think of something to say, anything really, not to embarrass yourself, but nothing actually came to mind. All you could do was stare. Your eyes drinking her in and salivating at the thought of touching her, of getting to kiss her, of being allowed in her divine presence. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, darling.” She purred, reading your thoughts like an open book. Now that brought you back to your senses and you managed a small smile. “Isn’t it exactly what you wanted?” You counter, your mouth dry and your clothes somehow uncomfortably tight. She grins at that, taking a few steps closer and fully into the light of the candles, so she can give you a good look at her body. And despite knowing every curve and valley, every taste, despite being able to map her from memory alone, you still stare at her transfixed. She’s glowing. You’ve never known someone more beautiful or more perfect for you. “You’re gorgeous.” You manage to add, licking your lips, causing a genuine smile to grace her red ones. “All for you.” She says, as if it’s nothing, her voice like honey and her hips swaying sensually as she steps even closer. She reaches your spot, grabbing the collar of your blazer and actually pulling you into the room, guiding you, while her red eyes hold your gaze. “Take a seat.” She pushes you backwards and you get startled, before you feel yourself land on a chair and she straddles you immediately, her hips on either side of yours, trapping you beneath her, where you belong. Wanda leans in, her hands in your hair and her lips connecting with yours in a fiery kiss. She takes full control of it, claiming your mouth without much effort. She steals your breath away, devouring you, her tongue entering your mouth and just when you think you can’t take anymore, she deepens it. When she finally pulls away, you’re almost gasping. Your brain is struggling to keep up as you look at her with pure admiration and want and she can’t help but kiss you again. This time she’s softer, far more sensual as she does it, pouring all her love into her actions, her hips involuntarily grinding against you in search of much needed friction. She’s been thinking of you all day, ever since she watched you walk out of your shared house in a tight black pencil skirt and a deep red shirt, that you knew she loved seeing on you, complete with a black blazer. You looked so delicious, she almost didn’t let you leave. She certainly didn’t want to. She would have preferred for you to stay with her, let her undress you and ravage you, the way she wanted. But you had meetings all day, so she was left with nothing but her thoughts and way too many hours to think of what she’ll do to you, once you’re back. Which was in a way fortuitous for her, because she could set up all this. And now, she finally had you in her grasp. She lingers in her spot, her body firmly pressed against yours, feeling a fleeting moment of relief that is both electrifying and not enough. And it isn’t. She needs so much more. Fortunately for her, you’re right where she wants you. Abruptly and too soon for your liking, Wanda pulls away. And before you can protest her absence or chase after her, her magic wraps around you instead. Tendrils of red magic spin around your ancles and wrists and ties them to the chair, trapping you in place. More of it weaves itself around your waist and Wanda gives you a wicked smile. “So you wouldn’t try to take any pleasure that’s mine to give.” She explains, before you even have a chance to ask. “And that…” She makes a show of her fingers moving slowly as more magic erupts from her and wraps itself around your thighs and spreads them apart, making your skirt ride up just enough to reveal your panties. “That’s simply for me.” She whispers, like she’s telling you a secret and she stops to admire her work. You’re overdressed for her liking. But that was always true. She loved your style, loved the elegance that your wardrobe choices always revealed, but for the past two years since she’s known you, she liked you best with absolutely nothing on. Tonight was no exception and she could have easily fixed that, but a part of her wanted to play the long game. Wanted to watch the wetness seep through your panties before she even considered undressing you. “You’re such a pretty girl, darling.” She mused, her hand coming up to caress your cheek gently. “All tied up.” She remarked. “So vulnerable.” She added as she admired you. “It would be so easy for someone to take advantage of you. To do twisted, perverted, depraved things to you…” She added, her voice low and growing deeper, until it vibrated with emotion. “Someone like me.” Her voice trembled as she spoke through her teeth and she captured your chin, making you look into her red eyes as she took you in. “Are you going to?” You asked, not a trace of fear or intimidation in your voice. “Do those things to me?” You clarified. Wanda took a moment to let the question sink in, to think it through as another, more confident smile graced her features and she finally spoke. “I will.” She answered simply, letting go of you. “But not before I have some fun with you.” She added. She flicked her wrist, more of her magic curling around her fingers, and the graceful beauty of it had you so mesmerised that at first you didn’t realize what she did, until the slow beat swelled and the house was filled with the sound. The song was slow, the beat a thumping undertone that accentuated the saxophone and it’s captivating melody. The scene was almost unreal. The music, working with the low light of the candles and the heavy smell of smoke, perfume and wax. Combined with the unique feeling of Wanda’s magic, it was a new high that you could easily get hooked on, if you weren’t already addicted to the woman herself. She was attacking all your senses, overloading them one by one, but the sight of her was what really captivated you. “God, I love this sound.” She murmured, listening closely to the music as it enveloped you both. Her hips started to sway delicately to the beat and you couldn’t help but follow her movements with your eyes as she moved from side to side, her hands tracing her body, as if even she couldn’t resist touching herself like this. She stepped between your open legs, still dancing slowly to the rhythm and she smiled, when you couldn’t tear your eyes away from her. She was turning this into a show, turning around between your open legs and giving you the perfect view of her ass, as she moved, even letting it rub against your crotch and moaning at the contact. She’d drop to her knees, her hands running up your thighs as she inhaled you, nuzzling her face in your panties and making you gasp from the smallest touch. She’d straddle one of your legs and grind against you, making sure you feel her wet panties, as the most sinful sounds came from her parted lips. Her full breasts were on perfect display as she rode you, making them bounce gently just millimetres away from your face. Watching her was the sweetest torture you’ve ever known, but all your pleas for her to let you go fell on deaf ears as she moved more confidently, unclasping her bra and letting it drop at your feet, while you watched her touch her own breasts, her pink nipples erect. “Wanda…” You gasped, feeling arousal and desire surge through your body. “Oh, my poor, sweet girl.” Wanda pouted, climbing into your lap and offering you a chance to take one of her nipples in your mouth, while she rocked on top of you. Unable to resist her and feeling desperate for anything she’d be willing to give you, you waste no time in sucking on her nipple, your tongue swirling around it and making her moan, as her clit ground down against you. She let you do the same to the other as well, turning her on even more. You let go of her with a pop, your mouth open and your lips glistening with saliva under the light of the candles and you’re ready to beg her to let you go, let you touch her, let you make her feel good, but she’s faster. Two of her fingers settle in your mouth, applying gentle pressure to your tongue, until you encase them in your warm mouth and suck, taking them up to the knuckles, so the tips touch that soft spot on the back of your throat. “Such a good girl.” She praises, her red eyes soft and lust-filled. She plays with you for a bit, moving in and out of your mouth suggestively and your pussy throbs from her touch. Your panties are already soaked, your blood boiling inside your veins. You’re burning up from the inside. It’s unbearable. Yet all you want to do is please her. Drop to your knees and worship her the way she deserves. Show her your devotion, your love, your admiration, your unending passion for everything that she is. Wanda pulls out her fingers slowly and you miss the taste of her on your tongue, miss her filling your mouth, but she doesn’t let you think about it too much, kissing you deeply and making you lose your grasp on reality. She moans against you, pressing her forehead to yours. You’re so lost in her you almost don’t register the movement between your bodies and your eyes dart down, to see her hand in her panties and her fingers buried deep inside her. God, she’s beautiful. You can’t help but admire her as her back straightens and she rides her fingers with more determination. Oh, how you wish this was you. That it was your fingers she’s riding, your hands bringing her so much pleasure, your thrusts bringing her over the edge and into extasy. You long to be able to show her how much you crave her, how badly you’ve been wanting her, how much you’ve thought about her… “Wanda… Please, let me.” Your plea is almost a whisper, your whole body straining against her magic, even though you know you can’t win. She ignores you, giving you a stern look as a warning, while her fingers continue to work her up and you know she’s enjoying it even more, knowing how desperate you are. “You’ll get your turn, honey.” She promises sweetly, kissing you for a brief moment. “Just be patient.” “Let me make you feel good, please.” You try again, kissing her shoulder and collarbone, as if the small action will convince her. To your utter horror it does the opposite and she removes herself from you entirely, her hand slipping out of her panties, as she stares at you coldly. “Open up.” She instructs, disapproval dripping from every syllable and you scurry to do as you’re told, hoping to avoid her wrath. Wanda smirks at your obedience and she puts her fingers back in your mouth, making you clean them of her essence, leaving you hungry to taste her from the source and drink her in entirely. “Do I taste good, baby?” She asks, as you moan around her digits. You only manage a small nod, reluctant to let her go, until you’re sure that you’ve captured every drop of her on your tongue. “I wanted to give you so much more…” She says with a sad sigh. “But you just had to be greedy. And now I have no choice.” She adds as her voice grows edgy. She keeps her eyes on you as she takes off her red panties. She inspects them briefly, a prominent wet spot obvious even from where you’re sitting and she smiles. “I think this will be a fitting punishment.” She muses, capturing your jaw and prying your mouth open with her thumb. You don’t even resist her as she keeps you like this. “Look at you… You’d do anything, wouldn’t you?” She whispers, leaning closer to you. So close you think she’ll kiss you. What you feel however is the damp fabric of her panties making its way past your lips and into your mouth. She stuffs them in, making sure you won’t be able to speak and she smiles when you try your best to swallow down your arousal. “Now, where was I?” She pretends to think, circling you like a predator, before she straddles you again, resuming her original position on your lap and she makes a show of circling her fingers around her clit for a few seconds, before she sinks them inside her. “Oh, baby!” She gasps and a pornographic moan escaping her lips while she touches herself shamelessly. “Oh, you make me feel so good!” She whimpers, biting her lip, knowing the effect it will have on you. Knowing how much you wished it really was you, who made her feel this way. Your skin grows even hotter as you watch her, your eyes fixed on the spot between her legs, where she’s relentlessly fucking herself. The obscene, wet noises that she makes are like music to your ears, making your own pussy twitch with need and you desperately try to squeeze your legs together, to bring yourself some much-needed relief, but her magic is stronger. You’re at her mercy. And Wanda Maximoff is many things, but merciful just isn’t one of them. “Yes, right there!” She almost mewls, her eyes closed shut. You can only make indiscernible noises behind her makeshift gag, helpless to stop her from taking whatever she wants. Helpless to do much more than just watch. Your eyes follow her as her free hand leaves its spot on your shoulder and starts to roll her nipple between her fingers, bringing her even closer to her orgasm. And she’s close. You know the signs so well by now. Her erratic movements growing sloppier and more desperate, her rhythm long forgotten, her breathing ragged as she bites her lips. “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum!” She moans, opening her eyes to meet yours. She taunts you with her words, loving the way you reacted to them, the way you whimpered from pure want, from needing to be the one making her cum and knowing she won’t let you. She likes to make a mess of you. Likes to ruin you, to break you apart, so she can put you back together, even more hers than before. And you’d be a filthy liar if you said you didn’t love it. Even now you’re burning for her, body and soul equally ablaze, before she’s even touched you. You stare up at her, not wanting to miss a single second of the moment when she falls apart and she doesn’t disappoint. “Yes! Baby…” The words come out as strangled cries and she starts to shake on top of you, her orgasm washing over her. She rides it out, rocking on top of you with a series of moans and unrecognizable words. She flaunts every delicious pulse of pleasure, her head thrown back, her hails digging into your shoulder and her back arched, while her hand works relentlessly between her legs, taking everything she could, until she’s too sensitive to go on. For a moment she just relaxes against you, taking deep breaths and inhaling your scent, curling up around you as much as she could, your body both comforting and grounding her to reality. “Look at what you do to me.” She manages weakly, once she’s recovered enough to speak. She lifts her fingers up to your eyes, removing them from her pussy, so you could see the juices covering them. She brings them close to your face, right under your nose, so you can smell her, before she pulls them away and puts them in her own mouth, letting out an exaggerated moan as she licks them clean. “I would have given them to you, but… Your mouth is already full.” She smirks, giving her fingers a final lick and getting off your lap on shaky legs. She takes you in for a moment, pleased with your heaving chest, your pupils blown wide, your parted lips, your shirt with one too many buttons left unbuttoned, because you know how much it gets to her, your parted thighs and the wet spot on your panties… All beautiful. All hers and meant to be ravished. And God, you want it. Badly. “Let’s go upstairs.” She says and as she flicks her wrist, you think she’ll let you go. Wanda however has other plans. For more interesting ones and her magic encases you both, until you find yourselves in your shared bedroom. But it looks nothing like what you saw when you left this morning. All the furniture was gone, just a circle of candles. Wanda had placed more on the windowsills, scattered more across the floor, with your huge bed in the centre of the room. It looked like an altar, covered in red, satin sheets, built to worship and Wanda swiftly used her magic to bind you to it, wrists tied to the headboard and legs spread apart and held open by invisible ties. Before you even have a chance to understand what’s happening, your clothes disappear, leaving you in nothing, but your ruined panties and Wanda finds her place above you. “Do you like what I’ve done with the place?” She asks smugly, knowing you approve, reading your thoughts effortlessly for the words that you can’t speak, because she refused to pull out her panties from your mouth. “Made to worship.” Wanda muses at your thoughts, smiling. “You’re right.” She agrees. “But it’s not for me, lovely girl. It’s for you.” She explains, as she starts to run her hands over your body, slow and reverent and so full of love. “I worship you.” She says as she leans down, nuzzling her face in your neck and inhaling deeply. “Your scent. It drives me crazy.” She whispers against your ear, before she takes the lobe in her mouth, pulling out a moan from you. She kisses your neck gently, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin, waiting for that moment when you’re so sensitive, before she bites your sweet spot and you gasp. “Your taste is divine.” She murmurs, millimetres away from your lips, licking them teasingly, before she moves lower to capture your nipples in her mouth. She takes her time to tease them, taking one after the other, sucking on them and swirling her tongue over them. She massages your breasts, careful fingers kneading the flesh. They’re so sensitive, so responsive to her, that she doesn’t even want to let them go, content to play with them, if it wasn’t for your needy moans, signalling you need her elsewhere. Wanda moves lower, between your parted thighs and she inhales you deeply. She rubs her thumb over the wet patch on your panties, noticing it has grown bigger and she leans down, keeping eye contact with you, while she places a soft, open-mouthed kiss on your covered clit, feeling it twitch under her lips. “Right here, baby?” She asks, pulling your panties to the side, so she can get a good look at your pussy. Your folds are glistening, your hole leaking juices, craving to be filled up to the brim. You feel so empty without her, always so needy to be fucked, so eager to let her do whatever she wants with you, because you know that no matter how much she teases you, how many times she edges you, how long she drags out her foreplay, she always makes you feel so good in the end. She always takes care of you, always makes you feel so loved and wanted and you know today won’t be an exception. “I wish you could see how wet you are for me, honey.” She mutters, straightening a bit, so she could see you better. “But you don’t need to see, do you? You just need to feel me.” She decides, a wicked grin forming on her otherwise angelic face and she calls forth more of her magic. It moves around her fingers, as if waiting to be unleashed and when she finally does, darkness quickly replaces your sight. She makes sure that you can feel the blindfold against the skin of your face, before she takes her original place between your legs. She runs a single finger on your outer lips, tracing them gently, watching your body react to the smallest stimulation. “Do you think you’re more sensitive, because I robbed you of your senses?” She asks, as if you could actually answer her, but you try to keep your snarky thoughts at bay, knowing she’s listening. And you don’t want to get on her bad side, when you’re so close to getting what you wanted. “Let’s find out.” Wanda suggest, dipping a finger in your wetness, before she starts to move it up and down your clit. Her movements are slow and teasing, but it feels so good to be touched, that you don’t care that it’s nowhere near enough. You try to raise your hips to meet her movements, needing more pressure, needing her to move faster, but feeling her retract instead. “Nuh – Ugh. Stay still.” She instructs. “Unless you want me to stop?” You can hear her smile, despite her stern tone and you know she’s having fun torturing you this way, so you shake your head, noises of displeasure coming from your throat at the thought of being left untouched. “Good girl.” Wanda sooths, her hands running up and down your thighs, trying to relax you. She gets back to teasing your pussy immediately, her finger once again stroking your clit, but this time it’s not enough for her either and she quickly finds your entrance, coating her finger in your juices, before she dips inside. You’re so tight and warm around her, walls pulsating with need even from this and she has to fight the urge to fuck you hard and fast like she wants. It’s too soon for that. But she knows she’ll get her chance, she just needs to be patient a little longer. You fight every instinct in your body that tells you to grind against her hand, knowing she’ll just take it away and you moan desperately, when she rewards you, adding a second one and stretching you deliciously. You pull against the restraints, your head thrown back and your back arched, feeling your orgasm starting to build, despite her slow movements. Her fingers curl and hit that magical spot inside you and just when you think it can’t get any better, she adds her tongue. It swirls over your clit, before she sucks it in, enveloping it in her warm mouth and circling her tongue over it again and again and you feel in heaven. Your moans grow louder, more unrestrained as you get closer and you reach the edge with a deep groan. And just when you think you’re about to have the best orgasm of your life, Wanda pulls away. Removing her mouth first, pulling out her fingers too, so she can watch your pussy clench around nothing, edging you perfectly and making you whine in frustration. “Soon, baby.” She promises sweetly and you feel her move away, climbing up your body, until you can feel her breath on your flushed face, watching you intently in your hopeless state. She removes the panties she left in your mouth, letting you swallow a few times and stroking your heated cheeks, before she kisses you deeply. “God, you’re so beautiful.” She rasps. “You’re so beautiful, baby. So sexy, when you’re all tied up for me. I can’t resist you, honey, I can’t.” She pours out her feelings. “Then don’t. I’m all yours.” “Yeah? You want me to show you what I really want to do to you?” Wanda asks, as if she’s waiting for your permission. “Please. I’m yours. Do whatever you want to me.” Wanda only smiles, taking a moment to place a gentle kiss against your chapped lips, before you feel her move above you. She places herself on either side of your face and she leans forward, until she faces your drenched pussy. She uses one hand to keep your panties to the side, and the other to keep herself upright, getting you prepped for the moment when she lowers herself and swipes her tongue over your clit, making you moan openly. “Let’s put your mouth to good use.” She suggest, giving you enough time to lick your lips, before you feel her pussy on your mouth and you stick out your tongue to meet her. She sighs against you the moment you touch her, your mouth providing the kind of relief her fingers no longer could, not since your first night together and she settles even more comfortably, so she can give you the same kind of overwhelming pleasure she felt. And she was going to come embarrassingly fast. Despite taking care of herself, she was desperate for you, hungry for the kind of pleasure that only you could offer. She knew you’d be close too. She had built you up already and the steady rhythm of her tongue was simply meant to keep you there long enough for the two of you to come together. And you wanted that so badly. You were putting all your efforts, all your concentration into making her feel good, showing her how much you want her, how much you love the taste of her, how happy you are to be hers and how much you wanted to share this with her. Addicted to her taste, you explore her shamelessly, your tongue leaving her clit, so you can dip inside her, pushing in as far as you can and pulling a muffled moan from her. Wanda obliges you eagerly, lowering herself even more and grinding against your tongue, letting you tease her entrance, until she can’t stand the teasing anymore. “Fuck! No more teasing, sweetheart, make me cum.” She demands, readjusting herself and practically pushing her pussy back on your mouth, feeling you sucking in her clit and swirling your tongue over it just the way she likes. “That’s right! Such a good girl. Make me cum.” She praises softly and returns back to pleasing you. The intense moment quickly grew to euphoria, each one of you determined to make the other cum soon overwhelmed you both and you felt the signs of her orgasm approaching, knowing you were right on the edge too and with a few final strokes you both fell apart. You loved getting to cum with her, loved the moment when her legs would start shaking and you’d hear her moan against your pussy, doing everything she can to control the bucking of her hips when her orgasm took over and pushed aside any other feeling, other than pure bliss. You loved knowing that in this moment you were one, that a tidal wave of pleasure was passing through you as well, equally powerful. And it was. It took everything in you to keep going, to help her ride out her high the way she did for you and when you were finally done, you both lay there, a tangled mess, panting. Wanda seemed to recover first and she carefully got off of you, coming up to check on you briefly and to kiss your lips, your tastes mixing together, until they were one. “You were so good for me.” She breathed, smoothing your hair and admiring you as you panted. “And now it’s time for the real fun to begin.” “This wasn’t fun?” She asked, laughing a little, still taking deep breaths. “That was just the warm up.” She smiled, her voice threateningly low, yet full of amusement. “But since you’ve been so good…” She paused for dramatic effect, making her way down your body quickly and positioning herself on her knees between your open legs. “You get to see what comes next.” She used her magic to remove the blindfold from your face and making your underwear finally disappear, letting your eyes adjust to the low light in the room, before red tendrils started to seep from her fingertips, flowing in the air, circling around her waist until a strap on appeared. The dildo attached to it was obviously big and quite thick, its heft visible even from your spot, though you knew you’ve taken it before and you gulped at the sight of her. “Do you want it, baby?” She asked, letting the tip rub against your folds, getting it wet with your juices. Despite feeling sensitive, you could only nod in response, mesmerised by her. With a strap on and a crown, the woman looked even more intimidatingly hot and intensely domineering, her red hair flowing in perfect waves around her face. You can’t deny her anything. “I asked you a question.” She reminded with an edge to her tone, leaning over you, supporting herself on her hands and sucking one of your nipples into her mouth roughly and letting it out with a pop. She had been waiting all night for this moment, in fact, she had been waiting all day and now, when she was so close, she had no patience left. “I expect an answer, dear. Don’t make me get rough.” She threatened. “I want it.” You whimpered, both from the rough treatment on your breasts and the danger in her eyes, which flashed red, so she could emphasise her point. Satisfied with your answer, she pulled away, lining her cock with your entrance and pushing in, until she saw the head disappear inside you. She watched your face for any sign of discomfort, but saw none, only eagerness graced your features and she continued, filling you up slowly, inch by inch, until she bottomed out. “So full of you.” You moaned, pulling against her restraints. “Please, don’t ever pull out.” You add, before she has time to question herself and she smirks. “That’s my girl.” She praises, starting to slowly move inside you. She builds up her rhythm gently, wanting this to feel good, wanting you to love every second of what she does to you. She wants you to remember this, to remember the feeling of being ravaged and ruined, to remember the sweet release of being hers, of belonging so completely and knowing you will always be this way. Your eyes never leave her. You love to watch the way she moves, the way she drives her cock in and out of you with practiced precision, the way her breasts bounce each time, the way her strong hands hold on to your thighs. You love the look in her eyes as well. She stares between your legs hungrily, watching how your pussy stretches to take her, the toy disappearing inside you and coming back out, your juices covering her length and making a mess, just the way she likes. Fuck, she really can’t resist that. With a growl and an animalistic fervour, she crawls on top of you, securing your legs around her waist and she starts to thrust faster, harder, more determined and you can’t do anything but moan, your back arching off the mattress and your head thrown back for a brief moment, before she pushes you down, securing you more firmly against her, until you can’t move at all, left entirely to her will. She doesn’t let you do anything but take it, each thrust hitting that spot inside you, making you cry out in pure bliss. “That’s right, take it.” She growls against your neck, pushing your head to the side and exposing your neck. She kisses it sloppily, sometimes leaving soft licks just below your ear, pulling out more desperate whimpers from you, but it’s not enough. She wants you to show her how good she’s making you feel, wants to hear every small sound, wants to make you scream. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” She promises, her soft lips against your ear as she holds you. Her breath tickles your skin, you can feel her face just millimetres away from your exposed neck and she zeroes in on the spot she knows you love, before she leans down, biting it. She does it softly, again and again, building the pressure, each fresh bite more pleasurable than the last and this time you give her what she wants, your voice getting horse from all the screams and moans she’s pulling out of you. “Wanda!” You gasp, breathless and she loves the sound of her name, when you’re screaming it in so much pleasure. She detaches herself from your neck, rising up and supporting herself on the headboard, so she can fuck you even harder and reach even deeper inside you with each thrust. “Wanda, I’m so close.” You moan desperately and she smiles proudly down at you. “Say my name, baby.” She encourages, making broad strokes each time and knowing you’re about to explode. “I’ll make you cum screaming my name.” And you do. You chant her name with each thrust she makes, getting impossibly closer. Your whole body is on fire, your thoughts completely scattered. You only know her, your Wanda, who delivers a particularly hard thrust, making you scream out her name as you start to fall apart. The second orgasm is even more powerful than the first. It’s a full body experience that starts at your core and spreads over you, pushing out any other feeling, your body spasming under her as you moan. Over and over, you feel the aftershocks, powerful and unrelenting, until you finally slump against the mattress, completely spent. When she doesn’t stop, you whine softly, feeling spent and she looks down at you with a mixture of sympathy and lust. For a moment you think she might take pity on you, her features softening a little. She lets the magical restraints dissolve, freeing your limbs and she leans down to take you in her arms. She even pulls out for a moment, getting you to your knees. It’s mostly her that’s supporting you, since you feel boneless and she turns you over, getting your back flush against her front, her left arm firmly wrapped around you. “You’re such a good girl.” She whispers in your ear, moving strands of your hair away from your face and kissing your shoulder gently. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” She asks, turning your head a little, so she can watch you. “Yes. I’m yours. Your good girl.” You pant, your arm resting on top of hers as you let your head fall back against her shoulder. “Yes, baby. Show me what a good girl you are.” She whispers, using her free hand to guide her cock back against your entrance and you try to squirm away, but she holds you tightly. “You can take it, baby. I know you can.” She continues, her voice soft. “I’ll make you feel so good.” She promises, peppering gentle kisses across your skin. You whimper when she enters you again, her cock sliding in easily and filling you up entirely. She adds her fingers too, not even moving her hips, just stroking your clit in slow circles, so you can adjust, whispering soothing praises in your ear, until the overstimulation fades and turns to pleasure again. She moves tentatively at first, careful not to overwhelm you, wanting to give you only pleasure as she continues to work your body. The fire inside you only grows, hotter and far brighter than all the candles that surround you, rooted deep inside you and she feeds it, until it consumes you entirely and you start to press yourself against her in search of relief. “There we go.” She smiles triumphantly, correcting her stance, so she would be more stable, before she really starts to thrust. “There’s my insatiable girl.” She says proudly, kissing the side of your face affectionately. “Doesn’t it feel good, baby girl?” “Yes, so good. So good! I want more, please.” You practically beg and she smirks at you. “More, huh?” She muses, watching you for a moment with deep adoration. “Please.” Is all you manage to say, but it’s enough for her and she brings her free hand to your face. “You know I can’t deny you anything, darling.” She smiles. “Now open up for me.” She demands and you hurry to open your mouth, taking in her fingers hungrily and moaning around them. “You like that, huh?” She asks, not really expecting an answer. Especially not, when she picks up her speed. “You like it when I fill up your pretty pussy and your mouth, don’t you? I bet you’d love it if I stuffed your cute little ass as well. You’d like to feel me in all your holes, won’t you?” She demands, her thrusts growing harder. But really, it’s her words that have you moaning even louder for her. She’s always so filthy, so ready to use you in every possible way. You’re sure she’s thinking about doing it, right as she fucks you. She’s thinking how, where and when and what toys she’s going to use, all coming together in her head as she makes a mess of you without even breaking a sweat. “You know me so well.” She growls in your ear, obviously listening to your thoughts and enjoying what she found there. “I’ll make it a treat for you, honey. A night you won’t ever forget.’’ “Every night with you is unforgettable.” You think, since she refuses to remove her fingers from your mouth, but you know she’s listening. “Hmmm…” She pretends to think for a moment. “If you can still think such pretty thoughts, I must not be fucking you well enough.” She determines and she pulls out her fingers, before you can protest. “Let’s fix that.” She slides her hand down, spreading your pussy lips and finding your clit, starting to rub tight circles around it in a way that has you seeing stars and she starts to fuck you harder, determined to make you cum. And with the way you’re moaning, she knows it won’t take long. You hold on to the arm she has around your waist, your nails digging into her skin, signalling you’re close. “Go on, baby. You can let go.” She encourages sweetly. “I’ve got you, ok? I’ll take care of you.” She promises. “You always do.” You agree, managing a weak smile that she quickly wipes from your face, when she rubs your clit in just the right way. “That’s right.” She confirms proudly. “And I always will.” She rubs that spot again, your mind screaming for her to keep going, because you can’t and she doesn’t stop until you fall apart against her. Your mind goes blank, but the pornographic moans that fill the room are all the validation she needs and she helps you ride it out, holding on to your trembling body and stroking it, until it has no more pleasure left to give. When you’re spent, she pulls out, her gentle hands guiding you, so you can lie down on the soft pillows and she litters your face with gentle kisses. “You were perfect, my love.” She whispers, stroking your hair affectionately. “Just perfect.” “Will you come cuddle me?” You ask, your arms outstretched for her. Wanda knows she needs to get you both cleaned up, needs to clear out all the candles and probably air out the house, but you’re so enticing, so cute, with your blissful face and promises of warmth and affection, that she can’t bring herself to refuse you. She doesn’t want to either. She sends a wave of magic, making sure all candles will go out and she falls on the bed next to you. She pulls you into her arms, her fingers starting a soothing pattern on the exposed skin of your back and she kisses your forehead. “I love you.” She tells you, her breathing evening out. “I love you too, Wanda.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If you had fun and liked my work, let me know :P Disclaimer: Photo is not mine. I’d be happy to give credit if I knew who made it... If you liked this story and you want more, please visit the Masterlist with all my works. Happy reading!

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