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power struggle | v.a

18+ mdni

switch!violet x switch!reader

contents/tw: angry sex, jealously, kissing, tribbing, check ins during sex🤭, strap-on, dirty talk, stanking, degrading, modern!vi??, handcuffs, name calling, praise.

an: stream of consciousness wrote this in a day. Hope you enjoy!!!

She pissed you off. Bad. Watching the trees passing by outside the window of the car you turned your back from her. Violet could feel the anger radiating off of you. Arms crossed and knee bouncing in an attempt to distract yourself. Her eyes flick from the windshield to you. She was trying to find something to say but you stop her when you make eye contact. Shooting her a dirty look.

“Don’t.” You huffed and look back out the window. “Honey I’m sorry I told you I didn’t know that’s what she was doing.” She tried to defend herself and she was being truthful but you couldn’t care right now.

“You’ll be real sorry when we get home.” Violet gripped the wheel tighter hearing your words. She’s be lying if she said she wasn’t excited. “Is that right?” Violet challenges you, your head whipping in her direction. You watch a small smirk spreads across her lips. She was making fun of you.

“You can do that shit with the girl from the bar not me.” You spit back at her sinking further in the seat starting to seeth. “If I knew she was flirting with me do you actually think i would’ve entertained her.” Violet tried consoling you but the fire was already lit.

“I don’t know Vi she seemed pretty entertained either way.” You thought back to how the girl oh so innocently bumped into your girlfriend and started talking to her like you weren’t even there.

“Oh cut the shit. You know I’d never do that.” Vi looks at you with annoyance. You don’t respond only shrugging which makes Violet increasingly more upset. Now here you are quiet in the car both silent and angry. When you finally get home Violet makes a show of going around the car and open your door huffing and puffing.

It was stupid really, but you still said “thank you” giving her the same attitude. The both of you quickly walk to the door, and as soon as it’s closed your pushing her up against it roughly kissing her. Vi obliges holding onto you just as roughly. You fumble trying to rip her jacket off and undo the buttons on her shirt. Your tongue dominating her mouth making her moan and pull at your hips.

You pull down her sports bra and pinch her hard bud between your fingers. She hisses at the stimulation. “You wanna fuck around and make other girls giggle like some whore?” Your tone was degrading and annoyed. Vi searched your eyes with hers, her lips parted and swollen and completely dazed. “How disappointing.” You say looking down at her breast as you toy with her meanly. Frustration bubbled in Vi’s chest at this “disappointing?”. She thought to herself were you being fucking serious.

She grabbed you by the back of the hair bringing you to look at her. “Maybe I fucking will seems like you get off on it sweet stuff.” Vi spit back at you as you look at her coldly. That was only half the truth and she could see it in your face. You liked feeling jealous it only made you want to claim her more. She lets out a low chuckle. Using the grip she has to pull you flush against her. “How slutty is that?” You wanna wipe the shit eating grin off of her face.

“Fuck you.” Now embarrassed you pinch her nipple harshly again, she twitches. She looks down at your hand and back at you her tongue running over her teeth. “Yeah fuck you too.” Vi attacks your mouth kissing you rougher than before letting out a growl. She scoops you up and walks you to your shared bedroom throwing you down on to the bed.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and furrow your brows. “Take that shit off.” You demand her nudging your head in her direction. She wasted no time to remove the rest of her clothes before pulling your top over your head and yanking down your pants. Vi hovers over your naked form going in to kiss your neck. You flip her over so she on her back and straddled her. Quickly grabbing both of her hands and pinning them above her head.

She lets out a struggled breath in surprise. You were quick but she could easily slip out of your grasp. But she’ll let you believe you have her just for now. “Babys upset isn’t she?” She tries agonizing you. Throwing a pout and bucking up her hips bouncing you to get a rise out of you. You grab her cheeks smooshing her lips together. “Babys fucking pissed.” You let go and smack her cheek softly. “I’m gonna use this pretty pussy and help you remember who you belong too.” You don’t talk to her like this very often so she absolutely gapping at you right now.

“Since your little slut brain seems to forget.” You let go of her wrist but she doesn’t move she just watches as you spread her legs apart and place yourself over her. You grind down at the slow pace pulling a whimper from her before speeding up and not giving her time to adjust. “Y-your so f-fucking ah- mean.” She’s straining to keep it together as you pound yourself into her, her abs flexing and chest heaving. Lewd noises fill her head. She tried to grab at your thigh and you smack her away.

“And who’s fault is that?” Violets looks at you like your crazy when you can’t help but let a smile slip. That same frustration she felt earlier clouded her senses again. She uses her strong arms to lift herself and restrain you. Slipping out from under you and pressing your face to the mattress. Grunting and whining in anger as she pulls both of your arms behind you. “Drop the fucking attitude. We both know you’re not winning this.” She leans over you her crotch pressed to your bottom. She was warning you, but you weren’t finished.

“What are you gonna fuck me like you wanted to do to that girl.” You struggled under her grip and she lands a hard smack to your cheek jolting you forwards. You let out a painful sob. “Ughh! Violet!” You screamed to her and she did it again. You stopped squirming trying to catch your breath instead. She places her hand next to your head leaning down again next to your ear. “Are we calmed down now?” All you do is huff in response and she rises laughing to herself in awe of how bratty you were being shaking her head.

When she starts rubbing the stinging skin getting ready to spank you again you speak up. “I’m calm!” You exasperated in a frustrated tone. “I’ll let you try that again sweetheart.” Vi wasn’t playing with you anymore. It takes you a second to actually calm yourself down to speak and Vis actively raising her hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m calm now. Please.” You pleaded with her speaking softly.

She puts her hand down and lets go of your wrist. She peppered kisses on the red raised skin sweetly. “Normally I’d feel bad but you deserved that.” She spoke to you between kisses finishing with a pinch to your thigh. You groaned at the pain. Violet maneuvered you into your back placing her hand under your head hold you, getting your full attention. “I’ll let you be on top anytime you want but if you ever talk shit like that again, I’ll make sure you know your place.” The stern look in her eyes had you captivated nodding and biting your lip.

“Do you understand.” She spoke slow clear caressing your cheek sweetly. You nod again. “No I want words.” It feels like your sinking into the bed her with the way her eyes are boaring into your soul. “Yes ma’am.” You said meekly only feeling a bit better when she drops the stern expression and kisses your forehead. She gets up and you watch her move around the room going to your shared drawer of toys and accessories.

She pulls out a pair of cuffs and you whimper. “Come on V-“ You try to negotiate but you were quickly cut off. “I’ll bend you over my knee. I know you hate these that’s why I got them.” She was being cold towards you and you probably did deserve it after what you said. But still not getting to touch her was cruel. You furrow your brows as she cuffs your arms to the head board. She looks at your annoyed face looking up at your restraints. Laughing softly, “Fix that face sweetheart.” she says casually as she yanks your legs apart and throws one over her shoulder.

Her large muscular thigh spread on top of you. She sinks down slowly her pace painfully slow. “God your so wet. Being a pain in my ass really gets you off huh?” She smiles mischievously her eyes half lidded and head tilted to the side. You wish you could take a picture. The way she was grinding into you her abs flex with each motion of her hips. Slow languid rolls of her hips. You pull on your restraints yearning to feel her.

She watched as you throw your head back in pleasure and close your eyes the smile on her face growing wider. She speeds up leaning back to get just the right angle where your clits are bumping each other. “Oh- ngh f-fuck.” Your lips part as you pant. “Yeah? Is that good brat? Like when I fuck you like a whore?” You want to reply to her but she somehow she speeds up her thrust even more. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head tits bouncing. “V-Violet!” Your legs shake as she keeps her brutal pace. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Her shit head comments don’t even stop when she’s out of breath clit twitching against yours.

“It’s t-too ah- much.” You mumble hips stuttering. “It’s ok baby you can- fuck, take it.” Vis words were sweet but her tone told you you were going to take it whether or not it kills you. The knot in your tummy was tightening at an alarming rate threatening to snap at any moment. Your breathing accelerates as it washes over you; letting out a high pitched moan. Vi was wasn’t done with you just yet instead abusing your poor overstimulated clit until she came too. Leaving you shaking and whimpering until she was finished mumbling to herself. “G-god I love this p-pussy.”

Violet falls to the side of you wiping sweat off her forehead. You lull your head exhausted closing your eyes. “I’m not finished with you.” Vi says not even looking at you at this point she’s walking to the drawer. Stopping to pick up a miscellaneous shirt to wipe the sweat off her chest and abs. You let out a sad whimper watching her pull out the strap and secure it to her hips. “Don’t worry I’m taking the cuffs off.” She smiles like she doing you a grand gesture. “Oh goody.” You reply to her half annoyed half relieved.

“I’m gonna let that slide.” Vi says with a smile on her face most likely pussy drunk and desperate to feel you anyway. She unlocks the cuffs letting your hands free. You grab her and hold her to you just laying like that for a beat she wraps her arms under you nuzzling your neck. “You okay?” She asks kissing up your neck. “I’m sorry I said that.” She stops, giggling at your words. “Did I knock some sense into you?” She kisses your cheek and continues.

“It’s not gonna happen again right?” She’s back on you her hands slipping from out under you her arms caging you in. She looks down at you her hair falling in front of her. “No it’s not.” You tell her honestly. “Good.” With that she’s kissing your neck again biting and licking over the skin. She moves to the side of you and pulls you onto your side. Grabbing your leg, she hikes it up and presses herself against your back.

You let out sweet noises from her kissing your neck gently holding her head. She teases you with the tip of the dildo dragging it along your slit. You hum feeling her line herself up. “This what you want pretty girl?” She speaks softly into your ear and you nod. She inserts herself slowly and you hiss slightly at the sting of being stretched open. Violet kisses your shoulder, “I know, I know.” She let’s you adjust before giving small thrusts.

Her lips are relentless as she kisses every square inch of she can reach. “My pretty girl.” She whispers into your neck giving an experimental harder thrust to see if your ready. You moan in response when she hits that gummy spot inside of you. She’s smiling into your skin keeping the pace. Pushing back on her she get excited. “Yeah that feel good?” She pulls your leg higher laying deeper inside you.

You watch her bicep flex as she holds you up. “R-really good.” Turning your head back you capture her lips with yours. She groans into the kiss her softer lips contrasting the deep quick thrust she’s pounding into you. Your orgasm builds slowly violet getting the tell tale sign of your legs shaking. It fills her with insurmountable pride every time. She pulls away from your lips and you groan at her pouting. “I just wanna watch sweetheart.” Violet says oh so innocently as she send you over the edge falling apart on her.

You twitch and whine vi observes you with a awestruck look on her face. Hips helping you through it. Once you’ve come down she’s stroking your hair and pulling out slowly. You wince from being so sensitive and she gets up to drop the harness to the floor before coming back to bed to scoop you up and cuddle you.

Your half awake at this point curled up on her chest. You listen to her heartbeat eye fluttering open and closed trying not to fall sleep. She lays with you quietly before speaking again. “Lets go take a bath.” She whispers lips pressed against your head. “Uh uh.” Mumbling back you nuzzle into her further. She’s going to carry to you the bath either way but she’ll let you rest for now.

Thank you for reading!!

— lush

It’s no secret to Bakugou that his friends think you’re hot, but he’s never allowed them to act on it before. Until they catch him using a remote controlled vibrator on you—

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader, implied Sero Hanta x f!reader, Kaminari Denki x f!reader, Kirishima Eijirou x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, toys, Bakugou let’s the guys control your lush vibe, dub-con (consent isn’t explicitly stated so could potentially be seen as non-con), long distance, sexting, public setting, nudes, squirting, dirty talk, the guys talk pure filth about you.

Word Count: 3.6k.

Bakugou did not want to be here, and frankly he wouldn’t have turned up at all if it hadn’t been for you. Especially when he knew what was waiting at home for him— you kissed him at the door with a promise to wait up for him when he returned home. Knowing that you’d more than likely fall asleep on the couch by the time he stepped back into the apartment, having to scoop you up into his arms and walk you into your bedroom.

This night out for Sero’s birthday had been planned weeks in advance, and rather than unwinding with him after your long day at work you practically forced him into the shower— alone no less, and made him get ready for drinks at a popular bar in central Musutafu.

Taking a sip of his cold beer as his friends talked animatedly around him in the plush booth, catching up with each other after a few weeks apart. Gathering as Pro-Heroes wasn’t as easy as his days back at U.A. Conflicting work schedules meant that it became near impossible to find the same days, or even evenings off as each other. So this was something to be savoured. Or at least, that’s what you told him as you watched him get ready. Sitting on your shared bed wearing one of his old Dynamight agency shirts and a pair of shorts while he pulled a plain black shirt out of his closet to wear tonight.

Nothing had annoyed Bakugou more than leaving you alone in your apartment to be here, the taste of your gloss still lingering on his lips as he thought about being home with you instead.

You’d made it abundantly clear what your plans were going to be tonight, pulling the little pink toy he’d bought for you out of your magic drawer (as he called it) and settling yourself on your shared bed.

“You put that in I ain’t goin’ at all, sweetheart.” He groaned, leaning against the doorframe as you shook your head with a laugh.

“You’re going,” You reached up to squeeze his cheeks together into a pout, the rough stubble on his face tickling your fingers as you pulled him down into a kiss, “I just need something after the day I’ve had. I’m probably gonna take a bath and wait for you to get home.”

“Then I’m at least controlling that shit.” He growled, pulling his cellphone out of his jeans pocket, “Give me access now.”

Maybe he’d be able to have one more drink before excusing himself early so he could get home to you and sink himself into your warm, wet cunt.

And god, you would be so fucking wet. You’d be soaked from the way his thumb continued to absentmindedly draw patterns against his phone screen. The pink cursor ascended for a few moments before dragging it back down. Picturing how you looked right now with the little toy stuffed inside your pretty pussy as you writhed on top of tussled sheets all because of him.

You[8.59PM]: Kats, stop teasing and let me cum :(((

The notification banner signaled at the top of the screen, causing Bakugou to grin. He’d been teasing you for the last hour with the toy, knowing that the settings he was using weren’t quite enough to have you coming undone for him. But just enough to have you riled up and begging for more—

Bakugou[9.00PM]: You’re the one that wanted to play these games, sweetheart.

You[9.01PM]: Yeah, but I wanna cum :((

The words had Bakugou’s cock throbbing in his pants, pressing against the rough denim as he tried to mask a groan through a tickly cough. Pressing the back of his hand to his lips as he typed another response to you.

Bakugou[9.02PM]: I promise I’ll take good care of you when I get home, baby.

You[9.05PM]: Turn it up a little please, baby? I need it.

With that text you’d sent an attachment. He’d been hiding the screen of his phone beneath the table all evening to avoid any prying eyes or accusatory questions, but this made him shield the screen from any unsuspecting gazes. A photograph of you staring up into the camera with needy eyes, your glossy lips curled into a cute pout as you pulled your shirt— his shirt, above your chest as the fabric bunched together to reveal your perfect breasts.

God, you were so fucking perfect.

Bakugou decided to take pity on you, his fingers pulling the circle up the screen to increase the vibrations. His free hand reaching forward to grab his bottle as he downed the rest of its contents. Determined this would be his last drink before excusing himself to come home to you, not that he’d have to think of any particular reason.

“Work still trying to contact you, bro? It’s gone nine.” Sero asked, leaning his forearms against the table.

“You have been on the phone a lot, is everything okay?” Kirishima looked concerned.

“He’s probably texting his girlfriend,” Denki practically sang.

“Shut up, idiot. Everything’s fine.”

Slipping his phone back into his pocket as he stood from the booth, smoothing his hands down the black denim on his thighs as he made a beeline towards the bar.

“It’s your round yeah, Kats?” Kirishima called after him, the sound drowned out by the loud bustle of the bar as Bakugou leaned against it waiting to be served. He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, knowing that it was texts from you. But he didn’t want to unlock it to read them now, not when anyone could look over his shoulder and catch a glimpse at what was his.

Forgoing a tray as he held the neck of the beer bottles between his knuckles as he carried them back towards the booth to a cheer and raised arms from Denki. Sharing them out as he resumed his seat and wrapped a palm around the cold base of the bottle, distracted as he pulled his phone out to finally respond to you.

You[9.21PM]: I can’t cum with this, baby. It’s driving me crazy.

You[9.23PM]: You are the biggest tease I swear, Kats. My clit is throbbing :(((

Bakugou grinned as instead of responding to your messages, he left them on read. Opening the lush app as he went back to dragging his thumb across the screen, increasing the vibrations to give you some much needed relief. Except this time Sero was quick to notice the app on Bakugou’s phone screen, quick reflexes snatching the phone from his hands.

“Is this what I think it is?” Sero’s eyes sparkled with mischief as his mouth settled into a wide grin, “No wonder you’re talking to us even less than usual tonight, Bakubro.”

“Give it back, tapeface.” Bakugou practically snarled, reaching across the table to try and grab his phone back. Knocking his beer bottle over in the process, which Kirishima’s quick reflexes managed to save with minimal spillage, the head foaming up from the movement.

“What is that?” Denki asked with curiosity as he leaned over Sero’s shoulder to look at the screen.

“You guys ever seen this app before?” Sero turned it to face the table, the circle still sat in the middle of the screen. An indication of the consistent hum of vibrations pulsing through the toy for you right now.

“No, what does it do?” Kirishima tilted his head slightly, “Is it like a game?”

“It’s an app for a remote controlled vibrator,” Sero explained, “So unless it’s inside you right now, man—”

“Piss off.” Bakugou snarled, baring his teeth.

“Then I’m guessing it’s inside your girlfriend.” Sero surmised, turning the screen back to face him.

“Oh,” Kirishima’s lips parted in surprise, and Bakugou could see the cogs turning in his mind as his thoughts clearly went to what you looked like with this little toy stuffed inside your pussy.

“Wait” Denki’s brows were furrowed as though deep in thoyght, the cogs turning in his mind, “So that means she’s got it in right now?”

“Looks like it.” Sero held the phone in one hand as he used his pointer finger to drag the circle down to the bottom of the screen, stopping the vibrations completely, “How many times has she cum already?”

None of your fucking business, Bakugou thought to himself as he sneered across the table. But he hoped you hadn’t cum at all, wanting to return home and experience the luxury of you coming undone on his cock firsthand.

“Oh fuck, man.” Denki whined, “Your girlfriends so fucking hot. How did you get so lucky?”

“Maybe you should give that back, Sero.” Kirishima shuffled beside Bakugou, clearly intrigued with the conversation but he tried to ignore the dark, depraved thoughts that were running through his mind at this moment.

“Yeah, give it the fuck back.” Bakugou snarled, swiping for the phone again as Sero held it over his head and away from Bakugou’s reach.

You[9.30PM]: Baby, why’d you turn it off completely that’s so mean?

“Oh shit,” Sero read the text that came through from you, “Happy birthday to me.”

“Give me the fuckin’ phone,” Bakugou practically snarled, venom laced in his tone as he hoped you wouldn’t try and send another selfie.

“Come on, man. Five minutes,” Sero pleaded, offering the phone back to Bakugou as a peace offering, “It could be my birthday gift, you know?”

Having his friends fawn over you like this had a warped sense of power rolling over him. It was debauched, depraved and downright scummy but Bakugou found himself falling into the sovereignty.

Bakugou knew he should call you to let you know that he was surrendering control to the app to his friends, or at the very least send you a message to let you know. But deep down he knew it was something that you would probably enjoy, maybe a bit too much, if you knew. Often talking to him about uses for the toy, and whether he’d ever share access with it with his friends. The thought of going home to tell you who had been controlling it just to see the wide-eyed look on your face had his cock throbbing beneath his jeans in anticipation.

“Five fuckin’ minutes.”

“That’s the spirit, happy fucking birthday to me.” Sero grinned as he began to slide his finger against the screen, “You shoulda brought her with you, that woulda been the best gift.”

“You’d never be that fuckin’ lucky, tapeface.” Bakugou snorted, taking a sip of beer as Sero’s tongue poked out from between his lips in concentration. Swirling his finger along the screen with such precision, but Bakugou was certain he had no real clue what he was doing.

“A girl online gave me her code to one of these before,” He grinned across the booth, “Let me watch her on video while I did it too—”

“Don’t even think about it.” Bakugou would rather blow his phone up completely than let his friends see you on video.

“How do you even know she’s got it in right now?” Denki asked, “You could just be messing with a dead toy.”

“She sent a text begging me to turn it back on.” Sero grinned, “He’s probably the one that put it in her, lucky prick.”

Bakugou wished he was the one that positioned the toy inside you, although he definitely wouldn’t have made it to the bar if he had. There’s nothing in this world that could’ve torn him away from your pretty little cunt.

“Can you get her to send us a picture?” Denki continued, “Do you have pictures?”

Bakugou had multiple pictures, and videos, of you using the toy. It had originally been a way for him to help you climax whenever he was called away on long missions, a fun addition to the already steamy video calls you’d have at random hours. The time differences were often large as he’d find himself fisting his cock for you on camera at four in the morning, helping you to cum just before you were getting ready for bed.

“Shut up, asshole.” Bakugou growled.

There was no way he was going to show them a picture of you, especially how hot you looked right now. Remembering the photograph you’d sent him just as he made it to the bar, of you spread out against soft sheets as you gave the camera a sultry gaze. Man, he really was a fucking idiot coming out tonight and leaving you at home.

“Oh, he’s definitely got pictures,” Sero smirked, “Look at the look on his face. I bet she looks hot in them too—”

“Don’t you dare, you fuck.” Bakugou made a swipe for the phone, but Sero was quicker. Handing the cellphone off to Denki as he leaned forward to pick up his bottle of beer with a chuckle, taking a large swig from it as he leaned against Denki’s shoulder to watch his friend play with the app.

“Have you used this when she’s out in public?” Denki asked, looking across the booth at Bakugou while his finger criss-crossed over the screen with speed— probably torturing your poor pussy with the intense changes.

“No.” Bakugou answered curtly. Neither of you had really toyed with the device outside long distance, but it’s definitely something that you’d both talked about before. You’d even suggested he wear it one night, so he could feel exactly what it did to you for himself.

“Man, that’s so boring.” Denki pouted, “If she was my girlfriend I’d have her wearing it to the grocery store.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to make a girl cum by yourself.” Bakugou scoffed, taking another sip of his drink as Denki scrunched his nose in response.

“Yeah I do,” Denki turned the screen to face him, giving anyone in the bar who looked over a glimpse at the adult app on the phone in use right now, “In fact I’m gonna make your girl cum without even touching her.”

Bakugou hoped you weren’t coming right now, especially with how intense Denki had the vibrations. He knew you were already riled up and desperate, and this was exactly what you needed to have you tumbling over the edge. But he’d never live it down if Denki was the one to make you climax, he’d never hear the end of it.

“You should invite her next time, man. We could do this with her here.” Denki continued, his finger pausing on the screen while the dot was sat at its highest point. Indicating that the vibrations were on the most intense setting as Bakugou pictured you writhing against the sheets while the toy buzzed inside you. Picturing the creamy slick that drooled out of your hole at the sensation and stuck to your plush thighs. Wishing that he was there to clean you up instead of fantasizing about it. His cock jumped at the thought as he palmed himself subtly through his jeans while shifting in his seat.

God, he had to go home and bury himself inside you.

“Can I have a go?” Kirishima mumbled shyly, his cheeks glowing as red as his hair as he fisted his beer bottle nervously.

“Knock yourself out, man.” Denki held the cellphone out to Kirishima like it belonged to him, the dot still sat at the highest point on the screen.

What Bakugou hadn’t been expecting is the amount of teasing Kirishima was doing for you. His thumb barely moving the circle above the slowest setting, the low rumble of the toy inside you would’ve been barely enough for anyone and Bakugou knew it had to be driving you crazy right now.

You[9.40PM]: I told you to stop being a tease. I was about to cum. :(((

“Oh, she’s texting you.”

Kirishima showed him the screen as he read the text, and Bakugou had never been so happy that Kirishima had managed to seize control of his phone and the app before Denki had a chance to actually make you climax.

Breathing a sigh of relief as he grinned in satisfaction, certain he’d never hear the end of it (from you or Denki) if he’d managed to make you cum.

Kirishima was gentle and cautious as he continued playing with the app, barely letting the vibrations go above the middle of the screen. But thick fingers continued to make it constant, pushing down to wiggle the line every few seconds as he began to make almost swirling patterns against the device.

“Come on, man. Turn it up to the max.” Denki whined, his arms going across the table in a silent plea to get the phone back into his hands.

“So you can make her completely numb?” Sero scoffed, “You know she’d stop being able to feel anything with you.”

“She’d be able to feel a lot.” Denki grabbed at his crotch crudely as the men sat at the table began to laugh, even Bakugou snorted as he took a large swig of his beer. He had to get home to you soon.

“You ain’t ever made a girl cum in their life so what makes you think you could make my girl cum?” Bakugou deadpanned as Denki pouted.

“I have too!” He whined.

“Oh yeah? When was that?” Sero pried.

“Come on, man. Don’t be on his side—”

“The girls on those camsites don’t count, I’m pretty certain they fake it too.”

“I don’t even use those anymore.”

“Oh wow.” Kirishima breathed deeply when Bakugou turned his attention back to his best friend. Noticing he’d opened the texting app and now a photograph you’d just sent sat open on the screen.

“What the fuck, man?” Bakugou grunted, grabbing his phone off Kirishima has he shielded the screen with his body. Curling over the table as he held the device beneath it.

“I’m sorry, it’s not my fault. I saw the notification and I clicked it—” Panic was evident in Kirishima’s tone as he begun a feeble attempt to explain himself. An attempt that would’ve been easier were it not for the alcohol currently circling through his veins, his voice slurred as his eyes glazed over. Trying to commit the picture he’d just seen of you to memory, as though he’d just had a near death experience and had witnessed the pearly gates.

“Let me see,” Denki practically begged, “God, dude. Please— let me see. Eiji got to see, it’s not fair!”

“Shut up,” Bakugou cut both men off, trying to focus on the picture you’d just sent.

It was a photograph taken from above your body, between the gap of your thighs and your chubby mound as he noticed the dark stain that now splashed across your bedsheets. Bakugou sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth when he noticed the text message that you’d sent with it.

You[9.45PM]: You just made me squirt omg

You[9.46PM]: You’re cleaning that up when you get home it’s not my fault :(((

“Fuck, she squirted.” Bakugou mumbled, eyes roaming your exposed skin and the mess you’d made on the screen.

That’s it, he was going home to you now.

“What?!” Denki gasped in surprise, practically jumping over the table in the booth to read the messages, “You made her squirt?”

“Clearly it was me that got her close enough to do it,” Sero grinned, “Eij just got lucky to get her last.”

“And she sent a picture? Can I see it, man? Please.” Denki looked as though he was about to cry, his knuckles turning white from gripping the edge of the table, “Please just one pic.”

Bakugou chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, debating on whether to show the personal picture you’d sent. A picture that had clearly been intended for his eyes only— but he’d explain to you later.

Turning the screen to the rest of the table, ensuring it faced away from the busy bar as his friends leaned in to look at it. Eyes darting across the imagine to try and memorise it in the few seconds that Bakugou had given them.

“Holy fucking shit.” Sero grinned.

“That’s not fair that you get to go home to that,” Denki threw his head against the back of the booth with a groan, “I’d lick it off the floor.”

“You’re such a fuckin’ freak.” Bakugou sneered, scrunching his nose at the debauched comment.

Locking his phone before leaning forward to pick his beer bottle up to down the rest of its contents, slamming the empty bottle back down on the table as he grabbed his jacket.

“Well, you’ve seen what I’ve got waiting for me at home, I’m out.” Bakugou fist bumped Sero as before shrugging his jacket back on.

“Any chance at a video call?” Denki pleaded, clasping his hands together as Bakugou shot him a glare, “What? I’m just asking.”

Bakugou text you as he left the bar, moving quick on his feet to get home to you as quickly as possible as he hailed a taxi.

Bakugou[9.52PM]: I’m not cleaning that up when I get home, I’m making it worse.

❝𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝚰𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝚰𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑.❞

ghostface!bestfriend!ellie ✗ fem reader

❝𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝚰 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.❞

⚠︎︎︎.ᐟ ⌞warnings ⊹ cw⌝ ﹕ approx 20k words. (ik im sorry im always yapping too much.) headcanons!! mention of blood/murders, drugs usage. childhoodbestfriend!𝑒, perv!𝑒, ghostface!𝑒, switch!𝑒, v light knife play (𝑒!receiving+giving), handcuffing ghostface😊, oral/fingering, strap-on sex (r!receiving), extremely jealous/obsessive!𝑒, ellie gets off to eepy reader and they get off together on the couch yummyy... i think that's it?? ps ignore that ugly ass edited pic pls😭

.ᐟ.ᐟ ⌞author's note⌝ ﹕ this isn't like the movies, it's a 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 story. proofread by @sapphichotmess!!

#.ᐟ ⌞taglist⌝ ﹕ @aouiaa @kaykeryyy @whoucallingalesbian @taylormarieee @co0kiemuncher @myathegoat @joordynn @iamhellagae @hearts444olivia @ion-news @broskideedle13 @ladyofcain @cheyisagirlkisser

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

˳·˖𖤐 During her childhood, Ellie had a stern and intimidating demeanor that unintentionally scared other kids away. They’d be too scared to approach her, let alone play or talk with her, which left her in solitude most of the time. She got used to playing by herself and spent her recess in the corner of the playground. During lunchtime, she would eat the dino nuggets that her dad had meticulously prepared for her while sitting alone at the lunch table (being picky about food, she only ever had dino nuggets and was firmly convinced that regular nuggets did not taste as good). She seemed to find solace in drawing and would spend hours sketching in her green notebook, lost in her world of imagination.

˳·˖𖤐 Maybe, just maybe, the kids’ fear toward Ellie wasn’t unmotivated. She loved to cause chaos and conflicts among the other kids. She would start small fights, encourage others to fight, push kids off swings, or even break their toys. Even more concerning was that she seemed to get a kick out of other people’s misery and would laugh at their distress and discomfort, which was why many feared and avoided being near her.

˳·˖𖤐 Joel would often find himself rushing to his daughter’s school, trying his best to convince the school officials that his sweet little girl could never do anything to hurt other kids. Despite being smart and quiet, Ellie would sometimes find herself in trouble for things she claimed she didn’t do. She always stood her ground, insisting that if she ever did start something, it was only because another child had done something to her first. And, of course, her father always believed her and would go to great lengths to defend his baby girl.

Once, Joel was called to the principal’s office. When he entered the room, he saw the principal sitting behind his desk, looking stern and serious. Joel's heart sank, he could sense something was off. “My daughter would n—” Joel tried to speak, but the principal cut him off without missing a beat. “The teacher saw her. She pushed Jason off the swing and kicked him,” the principal stated, his tone firm and authoritative. Joel's eyes immediately darted to his sweet little angel, who was crying and pouting, giving him doe eyes as she shook her head to dismiss all the accusations. “No, Dad, I didn’t, I swear. He hit me first,” she said, trying to defend herself. “Heard what she said? She didn’t do it.” Joel always fell for that little dotted face. He would still stand by his beliefs no matter what the teachers or other kids' parents said. His baby girl would never hurt anyone. He couldn’t imagine her doing anything wrong.

˳·˖𖤐 You were never really scared of her—the quiet, introverted girl. In fact, you were quite intrigued by her. She always seemed to be the odd one out, sitting in the corner of the classroom or standing far away across the playground, watching everything and everyone so intently. What really fascinated you about her was her attention to detail. She never missed a thing and could remember every single detail of everything, almost like she had a photographic memory or something. 

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was fascinated with you. Ever since you helped Ellie pick up the pencils she had accidentally dropped, she couldn’t help but notice your gentle and soft smile, and from that moment on, she found herself unable to take her eyes off you. She’d just sit across the room, sipping on her apple juice box as she studied you curiously. To her, you were a delicate and pretty little girl, reminding her of a flower. She had always thought other kids weren’t as bright as her and weren’t good enough to be her friends, which led her to isolate herself from others. She thought of herself as better than everyone her age, and it was also why she would beat them up, finding them too stupid to put up with. But you were different. There was something about you that stood out to her, something that her childish brain couldn’t quite put a finger on. It wasn’t just your kindness, although that certainly played a big part in it. There was something more that made her feel like she wanted to be your friend, your close friend.

˳·˖𖤐 Even as a little kid, Ellie had always been a strategic and calculated person.

One day, she saw you playing in the sandbox and felt the urge to approach you, but she needed an excuse to do so. So, she concocted a plan. She told another kid that you had said something mean about him, knowing that he would confront you about it—Jason was a little of a troublemaker from what she noticed, so she was certain it would work. In fact, when the little boy confronted you, and you denied it, he quickly became angry and pushed you, causing you to fall into the sand. The sand got all over your beautiful frilly clothes, making you feel embarrassed and upset, your bottom lip wobbling. Ellie saw this as her chance to approach you and comfort you. She walked over to you and pushed the other kid, causing him to storm off. She quickly helped you up and offered you a slight smile, “You can’t let other kids treat you like that.” You nodded in agreement, grateful for her help, and threw yourself in her arms, hugging her tightly. “Thank you so much,” you uttered. She nodded and squeezed you, rubbing your back. “Maybe we can watch each other’s back from now on,” she suggested with a shy smile, the one that always fooled her dad as well. You were beyond ecstatic at her offer. You had long admired her from afar, and the idea of being friends with her was something you had dreamed of for a long time, but your shy nature had always caused you to keep to yourself. Even to you, she seemed smarter compared to other kids. “Can you be my friend?” you asked with a toothless grin on your face, batting your lashes at her. “Yes, I would love to,” followed by “Can I show you my dinosaur collection?” From that day on, you and Ellie became close friends, and her strategic and protective nature was always there to help you when you needed it.

˳·˖𖤐 You and Ellie have been inseparable, going through all the ups and downs of school and puberty together. She has been a constant source of support, always by your side through your best and worst days. You have shared countless memories and experiences over the years, and she has always been a true friend in every sense of the word. She was always there to protect you and stood up for both of you in any situation. You did everything together—you laughed, cried, and confided in each other like you were the only two people in the world. You shared all your first-time experiences, like getting drunk for the first time, going to parties, and even sneaking out of your house at night just to see her or hang out. Her father quickly became like a second dad to you, someone you could look up to and trust. You have always felt like a part of their small family, spending time together, sharing meals, and celebrating holidays with them. Your friendship has only grown stronger over the years.

˳·˖𖤐 During middle school, Ellie’s behavior remained consistent. Even in the new environment, she continued to find ways to get herself in trouble. She had a habit of talking back to teachers, getting into physical fights with other students, and arguing with pretty much everyone, almost as if she couldn’t contain herself; causing trouble was second nature to her. It was evident that she found pleasure in disrupting the peace wherever she went, which often landed her in serious trouble. Not that she cared, of course.

“Miss Williams, get your shoes off the desk. You are not at home, and you cannot do as you please,” The middle-aged teacher, who appeared to be in her late fifties, scolded her with a stern voice, her eyes narrowing with disapproval as she spoke. Her wrinkled forehead was furrowed with a frown, and her thin lips pursed tightly together. The teacher’s glasses, once perched on the bridge of her nose earlier, now hung from a chain around her neck as she continued to chastise the auburnette.

With a mischievous smirk on her face, the copper-brown-haired girl replied, “You can bet your wrinkled ass I’ll do as I please,” causing the whole class to erupt in laughter.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger when Cassie, a girl from math class, called you stupid. You were her best friend, and she couldn't bear the thought of someone insulting you like that. She wouldn’t let anyone walk all over you. So, that same day, she approached Cassie after class with a fake calm demeanor and explained that her comments were hurtful and disrespectful. She initially tried to remain ‘polite’ to make you happy, but the situation quickly escalated to a physical fight. Unfortunately, this resulted in Cassie ending up in the nurses’ office with a broken bone. But she couldn’t help it. She had to look out for you, and Cassie fucking deserved it.

˳·˖𖤐 It was always just you and Ellie hanging out together. Other kids weren’t allowed to join you. Everyone in your school thought of you two as weirdos, but you didn’t care, both preferring each other’s company over anyone else’s.

˳·˖𖤐 You spent everyday together, either at her place or yours. Homework, video games, comics, and movie marathons filled your time, but the one thing that truly brought you together was your shared obsession with horror movies. You’d watch a new one each day, feeding off the adrenaline of jump scares and twisted plots. Ellie seemed to devour every film, but her favorites were always the slasher flicks—especially the Scream series. The thrill of being scared out of your mind became your thing. Soon, though, it wasn’t just the horror movies that captivated Ellie. She developed a deep fascination for true crime documentaries, and afternoons blurred into nights as the two of you sat in her room, binging tales of real-life terror, lost in your macabre little world together. You both would sit there, transfixed, eyes glued to the horror playing out on the screen, completely enthralled by the spine-tingling and mysterious events unfolding before you. The chilling stories on the screen drew you in, and your fascination with the morbid and the inexplicable would lead you to spend countless hours online reading creepypastas. 

˳·˖𖤐 You were each other’s first kiss.

One Friday night, you went to Cassie’s house for a small party—yes, the same Cassie that Ellie beat up and broke her arm. You guessed she had invited Ellie to get on her good side, considering their last fight. The poor girl was tired of fearing Ellie, but Ellie didn’t like her one bit and never would. Your best friend was reluctant at the idea of being surrounded by too many people, but you convinced her to go with you, saying it might’ve been fun to do something different for once. They kept teasing you, insinuating that you were more than just best friends. You were always around each other and touchy in ways that made them suspect that you were girlfriends. They noticed how you frequently held hands, hugged, and even kissed each other on the cheek. So, during a truth-or-dare game, they dared you to kiss your best friend. You looked over at Ellie, feeling shy and uncertain. You were waiting for her to say something to stop you from going along with the dare, but to your surprise, she didn’t. In fact, she had a small smile on her face, which made you feel more nervous for some reason. Feeling hesitant, you finally mustered up the courage to ask her, “Can I kiss you?” Your cheeks heated up as you spoke. The freckled girl rolled her eyes, trying to make you feel like you were being dramatic, “It’s just a game.” Finally, you leaned in and gave her a soft peck on the lips. Everyone in the room giggled and clapped their hands, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something had changed between you and Ellie, yet neither of you dared to acknowledge it.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie had always been very open about her attraction to girls. She never cared about what other classmates might have thought about her preferences. Even though they were not always accepting, they never dared to say anything negative to her face, fearing Ellie’s reaction to their comments. She openly rejected guys who showed interest in her, saying that she was not interested because she was a lesbian. Always commenting about pretty girls—and man, if that didn’t make you jealous. You’d often feel this intense jealousy inside you every time she talked to other girls or whenever other girls would approach her, even if she always rejected them, 99,9% of the time.

˳·˖𖤐 Why 99,9% and not 100%? Well, because another girl named Cat entered the picture. From the very start, it was clear that Cat was head over heels for Ellie, and how could you blame her? She’d blush every time Ellie glanced her way, always laughing obnoxiously at your best friend’s puns, even when they were terrible—and that was, like, all the time. She would also go out of her way to shower her with small gifts, all of which Ellie would accept with a sly grin that you found infuriating. She’d get her snacks and pass her cute little notes during classes, and the worst part was that your friend began to reciprocate Cat’s feelings, and the two of them grew even closer. You tried to accept their ‘friendship’ but found it increasingly difficult; watching them together became too much to bear, and you knew you had to take care of it. You never liked sharing, not even as a kid, so why start now with the most important person to you?

As the lesson dragged on, you grew more restless, your thoughts tangled in a knot of anxiety. You needed to have a little chat with Cat. Urgently. Unable to focus any longer, you raised your hand, asking the teacher if you could go to the toilet. When he gave you a nod in response, you hurried out of the classroom, your pulse quickening as you slipped through the quiet hallways. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a small Post-it note, your fingers trembling slightly as you scrawled a quick message:

“Meet me in the bathroom after third period. — Ellie :)  ”

You carefully folded the note and slid it into Cat's locker, hoping she would see it soon. The next few hours felt like an eternity. You kept checking the clock, counting down the minutes until the third period. Finally, the bell rang, and you made your way to the bathroom, hoping Cat would be there. As you entered the bathroom, you saw her standing there with a big smile. The same smile that faded in an instant as she saw you instead of the girl she liked. You greeted her with a mischievous grin and asked her if she was waiting for Ellie. “Yeah, she told me to come here after third period,” the raven-haired girl responded, looking puzzled. “Did she, or did I?” you giggled. Cat took a small step back, suddenly feeling creeped out by the way you were looking at her, almost as if you were planning to hurt her. You had never started fights in school or caused any sort of trouble, though Cat feared you. Maybe it was the endless rude comments you threw her way at any chance you got or the little things you did when Ellie wasn’t watching to make her feel threatened. “Is this some sick joke?” surprise flashed across her features before a more terrorized look replaced it. “Stop seeing her, don’t come near her, stop talking to her, don’t even look her way,” you demanded. Your tone was firm, almost possessive, as you stepped closer. She backed away with each step you took. “Wha-” Cat tried to speak, but you cut her off. “I catch you lookin’ at her again, I won’t be as nice.” you threatened. “I won’t—I’ll stop talking to her,” she stammered nervously, her voice trembling. A few sniffles escaped her before she ran off, mumbling her sorrys on her way out. “I hope you mean it.” She was already out of the bathroom, but you were sure she had heard you loud and clear. And you weren’t even gonna feel bad. She deserved it. How dare she come near the most important person in your life? What was she planning to do? Take her away from you? You sure as hell weren’t gonna let that happen.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was struggling to understand why Cat had suddenly started ignoring her like a deadly disease. It was almost perplexing that the brunette wouldn’t even look at her, and whenever Ellie tried to approach her to talk, Cat would leave the conversation abruptly, only briefly glancing over at her. It was particularly puzzling to the redhead as she could not recall any misunderstanding or disagreement between them that could have caused such a drastic change in Cat’s attitude towards her—for once, she was nice to someone who wasn’t you, and this was the result? She felt confused and soon enough began to harass the girl, making sure her life was a living hell at school. How dare Cat ignore her? She wasn’t even that smart or pretty. Ellie only ever liked the attention she'd get from her; she was there just to boost her ego, and now she was ignoring her?

˳·˖𖤐 As you both entered high school, you remained inseparable, sticking to the shadows for the first few years, trying to blend in and avoid unwanted attention. Neither of you joined clubs or sports teams, preferring to keep to yourselves and steer clear of socializing. But by junior year, the routine started to feel stifling, and restlessness set in. You both realized you wanted more—something bigger than just being on the sidelines. Your best friend took the leap first, joining the soccer team, eager to break out of the monotony and possibly make new friends. She thrived there, quickly falling in love with the game’s intensity and the adrenaline that came with it. She never lost that sense of superiority, though—deep down, she believed she was different, better than the people around her. She stood out, and she knew it. You, on the other hand, joined the cheerleaders team. Dancing and performing had always been a passion, and it seemed like a perfect way to get involved. But as you spent time with other girls, you couldn’t help but notice how wrapped up they were in things that felt trivial to you—obsessed with popularity, looks, and gossip. It was hard to feel like you fit in, knowing damn well you didn’t. While your best friend thrived on her sense of superiority, you were left feeling like an outsider, trapped in a group you didn’t belong in.

˳·˖𖤐 Ever since you joined the cheerleading team, you stood out from the crowd. Your undeniable beauty did not go unnoticed, and soon enough, boys began to show interest in you. Every week, a different guy would try to catch your attention, hoping to ask you out or make a move on you. But Ellie was fiercely protective of you, claiming that none of these guys were good enough for you, whether it was a potential friend or partner. She would always find a way to scare them away, making it clear that you weren’t interested, always there reminding you that you were way too amazing for all of them and that no one could ever understand you like she did, even if they tried. She did not want anyone she deemed unworthy of your time to come close to you, and you liked it that way. To you, that was your definition of love.

“—so he just fell in front of the whole class, he couldn’t even-” You were interrupted by the sound of your name being called from across the room. Your best friend was out sick, missing all the juicy details, but before you could finish the story and turn to see who it was, the auburn-haired girl beside you spun around first. Her brows knit together almost instantly, and you could see the flicker of jealousy in her eyes. Her expression darkened as she processed the moment, clearly thrown off by the sudden attention directed your way. A kid you knew from theater class was walking toward you with a nervous smile, carefully holding a flower, making sure not to prick himself on the sharp thorns of the beautiful red rose. “Hey, I just wanted to ask you if-” He didn’t even need to finish his sentence—she was already prepared to go off on him as if he’d just insulted her entire family. In reality, he hadn’t even noticed a fuming Ellie standing right beside you. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, eyes locked on him with an intensity that made you sure if looks could kill, he’d already be dead. You opened your mouth to say something, but Ellie quickly raised her hand in front of you, silencing you instantly. She was going to handle this, just like always. “What makes you think she would ever go out with a loser like you?” Ellie hurled venomous words his way, leaving the poor guy stuttering and stumbling over his response. His face flushed bright red as if all the blood had rushed to his cheeks. He stood there, frozen in shock, his mouth hanging open like a fish gasping for air. His eyes darted nervously between you and the girl at your side, clearly unsure what to do next. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to express himself, his expression desperate as if he was silently begging for a reaction from you, anything. But before he could even get a syllable out, Ellie cut him off again, shutting him down before he could speak. “Heard what I said? She is not interested,” she repeated, but this time, her voice was tinged with impatience. “I’m sorry, I just—take this.” He handed you the flower, looking utterly defeated. As soon as it was in your hands, he turned around and walked away hastily, like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs. She watched the guy walk away, her leaf-hued eyes fixed on him, unwilling to let go of the sight. Her face was slightly scrunched up in annoyance, her mind clearly racing with thoughts as she seemed lost in her world. After a while, she finally tore her gaze away from him and glanced at you briefly as if snapping back to reality. She let out a small ‘tssssk’ under her breath, trying to collect herself and shake off the jealousy lingering in the pit of her stomach. “Jesus, El. You’re evil,” You let out a small giggle and brought your hand to your mouth to cover it up. “Might have to kill half the school just for you,” She suddenly joked with a grin. She snatched the rose out of your hand and threw it on the floor forcefully. Red petals scattered on the ground as you both continued walking. Ellie made sure to stomp on the flower. She always had a very dark humor, which sometimes left you wondering if she meant any of what she said. She always spoke in such a serious tone, but maybe it was just her sarcasm being that way. Her words were often laced with a hidden meaning, and she had a way of making you question your interpretations, but you laughed at her joke anyway.

˳·˖𖤐 So, were you surprised when a few students started going missing? 

˳·˖𖤐 The leader of the cheerleaders that always gave you a hard time? Gone.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was your biggest fan, always showing up to watch your cheerleading practices.  Manspreading on the benches, her gaze never left you, not daring to miss a single move. The sight of you, all sweaty with wisps of hair escaping your ponytail, only made you look cuter in her eyes. She loved seeing you in that little cheerleader uniform. Whenever you smiled and glanced at her, her heart would thunder in her chest. It was as if her whole world revolved around those fleeting glances and spontaneous smiles you’d throw her way. You were awfully adorable.

What Ellie found far less adorable was how the head cheerleader constantly picked on you, always putting you down. What frustrated her even more was that you just let it happen. In her mind, Amanda wasn’t better than you—no one could even come close to you. To Ellie, you were perfect, and she wished you could see it too. When she saw you walking toward her, she quickly set aside the leather-bound journal she had been scribbling in, placing it on the empty spot next to her as she greeted you with a warm smile.

“You’re doing great, beautiful,” She turned to grab her backpack, which had been thrown carelessly on the empty benches behind her. Her tattooed arm reached inside the already unzipped, worn-out bag. “Yeah, you say that, like, every single time.” You sat on the bench next to her, sweat beading on your forehead as you let out a slight huff, feeling winded after your practice. “‘s true though.” She pulled out a small towel and handed it to you with a gentle smile. She was always considerate, constantly looking out for you and ensuring you were taken care of. She expressed her love for you through these little gestures, like bringing things she thought you might need in her green backpack. Her obsession with you was apparent in how she hovered over you, but you couldn't deny that it was comforting to have someone care for you so deeply. That was love—real love—and you had never experienced that from anyone else.

“Goood, you’re so perfect,” you accepted the towel from her outstretched hand and began to pat your forehead, feeling some relief from the heat. But a little towel wasn’t the only thing she brought for you—she also handed you a refreshing bottle of water to quench your thirst and a cherry-flavored lollipop as a little treat. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of that beloved childhood candy in your hand. A soft smile spread across her lips when your words reached her ears, and she looked away, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. Her shoulders lifted ever so slightly in a subtle shrug, “Oh, I know” her elbows propped up on her knees as she leaned forward. She was deep in thought, and her hands were intertwined. You took a few sips of your water and unwrapped a lollipop, both of you fell silent, completely focused on watching Amanda, who was the target of Ellie's intense gaze, she was studying her. “She’s a bitch” the freckled girl next to you muttered under her breath. You hummed in agreement, savoring the sugary goodness. “Why do you even let her speak to you that way?” she shook her head in disapproval, you could feel her gaze on you even if you weren't looking at her. “What do you want me to do? She’s the leader, El. She’ll throw me out of the team if I confront her.” You reached up to your mouth and pulled the lollipop out with a loud smack noise, feeling a sense of defeat wash over you. Ellie expressed her disagreement with a small scoff that barely registered on her plump lips, almost imperceptible. She picked up her journal once again and resumed whatever she was doing, and the silence between the two of you fell once again, punctuated only by the sound of the pencil scratching across the page. When you looked down at her journal, you couldn’t help but notice a drawing she was making of Amanda. The drawing portrayed Amanda in a rather disturbing manner, physically harmed with a knife in her chest. The details of the drawing were quite graphic, and you could tell she had put a lot of effort and passion into it. “Oh, well...that's detailed,” you commented, still sucking on your lollipop, savoring the sweet taste in your mouth. You noticed a small curl of her lips as if she felt proud of her drawing skills. “But that’d be too messy,” you added, her head shot up to look at you. “Yeah? How would you do it then?” she asked, almost challenging you to come up with a better idea for the hypothetical scenario. “The bitch’s allergic to almonds,” Your eyes were fixed on Amanda, who was laughing with her friend. Ellie raised her brows at you, an amused smile appearing on her lips. “That’s it? A good ol’ accidental allergy reaction? Where’s the fun in that?” you shrugged at her words. “No blood, no traces, it’d be harder to get caught,” you explained, proving your point. It was logical and more calculative than her hypothesis. “True but stabbing her to death seems funnier, I dunno.” She inhaled deeply, leaning back into her bench, her back pressed on the benches behind her. “Hearing them beg for mercy, scream in pain, and the look in their eyes…” She went on, entirely absorbed in her twisted narration. As she spoke, the details grew darker and more grotesque with each word. You watched her, bewildered, struggling to tell if this was still just a “what if” game. When Ellie finally realized you hadn’t responded, she looked over at you—the familiar warmth in her eyes had drained away, leaving something sharper, emptier, a chill that made you feel as though you were staring into someone else entirely.

“And where would you hide the body?” you asked.

She smiled sadistically, almost as if she already had an answer ready for that question. “I know the perfect place for that kind of thing.” she put down her journal, her emeralds back on you as she told you about the place she had in mind. “No one would ever look there,” You agreed, giving her a nod, the cherry taste of the candy lingering as you let the sweetness melt off your tongue, an amused grin playing at the corners of your mouth. The plan was actually well-thought-out—impressively so.

“I told you,” she said softly, her gaze darted between your lips and the lollipop. “Oh? Want some?” you teased, holding the lollipop just a breath away from her. Slowly, you edged the glistening, saliva-coated candy toward her, and she parted her lips, wrapping them around it, savoring the artificial cherry taste with a quiet hum of satisfaction. Her fingers replaced yours on the stick, her fingertips brushing lightly over yours, lingering just a little too long. She held your gaze, her eyes softened, almost entranced, though the depth of that look was something you couldn’t quite place. In reality, she was gazing at you enamored, her pupils wide open, but you were completely oblivious to her feelings and failed to pick up on her infatuation. Shortly after that day, Amanda was gone. Disappeared into thin air, nowhere to be found. You knew it wasn’t adding up, especially when you asked Ellie about it. She’d be so nonchalant, like she had nothing to do with her it. But you knew she was lying. Did you care about that stupid cunt being gone? Absolutely not. You soon became the leader of the cheerleaders, and everyone looked up to you.

˳·˖𖤐 The girl who was grinding on you at Daniel’s party? Found dead the morning after.

˳·˖𖤐 The first few months of college had set in, and you were already drowning in a sea of assignments and deadlines, feeling overwhelmed and stressed out. To stay close to you, Ellie took the bold step of enrolling in the same college as you. She even went as far as to choose the same major─Psychology─just to be in the same classes as you, ensuring that you both had the same schedule, did the same assignments, and even hung out with the same people. 

˳·˖𖤐 It was ironic, really, how someone as anti-social and apathetic as her would pursue a field that involved studying human behavior and emotions. But she did it anyway because the mere thought of being away from you for even a second was unbearable to her. She didn’t want anyone else to get closer to you or share the dorm with you, so she followed you and moved in with you because no one could take care of you better than her. You both decided to get an apartment together to share the bills and responsibilities of living independently. Your parents were more than willing to support you financially, making sure that you had everything you needed for college and the apartment. You were attached by the hip, and wherever you went, she was there with you, and whenever she wasn't, you became nervous and anxious, wondering what she was doing and if everything was okay. It was as if you had become too dependent on her, and the thought of being alone scared you. But the dependency was mutual; she needed you just as much as you needed her.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was not a fan of parties and preferred staying home, indulging in horror movies while getting high with you. However, when you told her about Daniel’s Halloween party, she knew she had to accompany you to ensure your safety and protect you from any potential creeps. You had been eagerly waiting for Halloween, your favorite holiday, and Ellie didn't want you to miss the opportunity to dress up and have a good time. Despite her initial reluctance, she was somewhat excited, not for the party itself but because she finally had a reason to wear the ghostface costume that had been sitting in her closet, untouched and unused. 

Ellie was already ready, her costume simple but somehow annoyingly perfect—but that was the price that came with being effortlessly beautiful—and her Ghostface mask thrown lazily on her shoulder. She stood at the bathroom entrance, arms crossed, eyes unwavering as they followed you. You slipped into the tight black dress, pulling it into place with a little struggle as it hugged every curve. You, on the other side, loved taking care of every little detail of your makeup and costume, ensuring your appearance was always on point. “I hate these things,” she muttered under her breath, brow furrowed, though her gaze was anything but annoyed as it lingered on your body. With her hip pressed against the doorframe, she watched as you adjusted the neckline, her head tilted to the side, eyes scrutinizing each inch of skin exposed. “Why’d you have to pick something so revealing?” she asked, voice low, almost a grumble. You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s Halloween, Ellie,” you huffed out, “I can wear whatever I want. Don't be such a buzz kill.” “I meant for Halloween parties. Last year, you were that damn sexy nurse. This year, it’s a tight dress. What’s next? A slutty bunny?” the freckled girl quipped, her lips curling up into a wry smile as she raised an eyebrow at you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She let out a light chuckle, the sound echoing softly in the small bathroom. “And you’re here complaining,” you retorted with a mischievous grin as you reached for your high heels and effortlessly slid your feet into them. You took a few confident steps towards her, giving her a complete view of your stylish outfit. Her eyes roamed up and down your body. Your dress hugged every curve, revealing just enough skin to accentuate her drool. She licked her lips, imagining what she could do with you in that skimpy outfit, but she had to keep her hands to herself, unfortunately.  “You look fucking amazing.” 

You gave her a soft smile, turning toward the mirror and reaching for your makeup bag on the countertop. “Just need to fix my makeup, and we’re all set,” you informed her, pulling out your favorite berry pink gloss and a tube of mascara, both essentials for tonight. Ellie let out a low chuckle from the doorway, fingers tapping lazily on the frame. “You’re gonna make me want to commit murder tonight,” she joked, eyes flicking over you as you leaned in closer to the mirror. Without looking away from your reflection, you rolled your eyes, your long lashes nearly brushing against your brows. “Oh, shut up. You’ll survive,” you replied, carefully gliding the gloss over your lips. She sighed, tipping her head back against the doorframe. “Honestly, I don’t know why we’re even going. It’s gonna be full of drunk assholes, all crowding around like moths.” “C’mon, El, it’s gonna be fun,” you insisted, catching her eye in the mirror. She rolled her eyes, exhaling dramatically. “Oh, yeah, can’t wait to watch people hitting on you,” she drawled, her voice heavy with sarcasm. You snorted, giving her a smirk as you grabbed your mascara. “Well, thank God I’ll have you by my side, scaring them all away.” “Damn right,” she shot back, and you both chuckled. Finishing up, you turned on your heels to face her, your eyes locking with hers. The two of you were only inches apart now, close enough to share each unspoken word in the air between you. “So, what do you think? How do I look?” you questioned, seeking her approval, though you knew the answer already. Ellie’s gaze drifted over you, her lips twitching into a scoff. “You already know you look hot,” she murmured, unable to hide a small smirk. She seemed momentarily lost as she looked at you, her green eyes flitting from your lips to your eyes, drawn in despite herself. You felt a pulse of satisfaction at her reaction, the way her attention lingered on you. “Ellie…” you murmured, leaning a bit closer, your voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. She licked her lips almost instinctively, her gaze dropping to your glossy ones, and the air between you grew thick, the energy snapping with tension. “...Yeah?” she breathed, her voice barely audible. Her breath hitched as you inched closer before coming to a halt. You smirked, tipping your head to the side. “Can I be your helpless victim?” you teased, catching her off guard with the unexpected line. Ellie’s face contorted into one of confused disbelief, and before you could hold it back, laughter escaped you at her expression. In response, she gave your shoulder a playful shove, rolling her eyes as she fought a smile. “Fuck you,” she groaned, a hint of laughter in her voice, and she ducked out of the bathroom, completely flustered, leaving you grinning after her.

When you arrived at the party, your best friend was glued to your side. She didn’t want you to be alone for even a moment, telling you that she’d stay sober to keep an eye on you in case you decided to drink. However, despite her best efforts, she lost track of you for just a few minutes. When she finally found you, she swore she felt her whole organs sink. You were dancing with a girl. Everything seemed to slow down, and jealousy and pure rage quickly built up inside her as she registered that girl’s hands guiding your hips as she ground on your ass and her lips devoured your neck. When your gaze met hers, you couldn’t help but notice the striking green color of her eyes had turned into an intense, almost ominous shade. Her jaw was tightly clenched, and you could feel a sense of discomfort creeping up on you. It was like you had crossed an invisible line and were now doing something you shouldn’t do. Almost instinctively, you pushed the girl off of you, and before you could give the drunken girl an explanation, Ellie was already walking toward you.

“We’re going back home,” She spoke with a harsh, demanding tone. She grabbed your wrist tightly and forcefully pulled you away from the girl you were dancing with. You didn't even have a chance to say goodbye or explain the situation as she dragged you away.

“Why are you acting like this? Can’t I make friends?” Your words were slightly slurred, the tipsiness settling in as you tried to pull your wrist from her grip, but Ellie’s hold was firm. You didn’t want to leave the party yet; the night had just started and had been so much fun, and her urgency to get you out only made disappointment grow. The music and chatter gradually faded as she dragged you both toward the exit.

“Didn’t look like a friend to me,” she muttered, voice sharp with an edge that cut through your drunk haze. “Looked more like she wanted to fuck you right there in front of everyone—in front of me.” She cast a glance back at the party, the girl long gone already. “Besides,” she added, “—you have me. I don’t see why you need her.” There was an ache in her tone as if she felt betrayed by your actions, a hidden desperation she was trying to keep under wraps. Couldn’t you see? She was right there, ready to be everything you needed, the one person who knew you better than anyone else. You narrowed your eyes, pushing her, testing her. “So what if she did want to fuck me? What are you, my girlfriend?” The words came out in a perfectly thought-out taunt to poke the emotions she preferred to keep hidden under the surface. You couldn’t deny that you’d thought about it too—what it would be like to actually be with her. Her green eyes darkened, shifting from their usual warmth to something intense and possessive, jealousy sparking in the depths. It was rare for you both to argue, but this time it felt like there was something deeper brewing beneath the surface, something that had been sitting there gathering dust, waiting for the right moment to bubble out like scorching lava. There was a palpable tension in the air, more-than-friendly feelings in your eyes. Even a fool would’ve been able to see the unspoken feelings and desires that neither of you could express aloud. Perhaps it was the fear of rejection or the uncertainty of how the other person felt kept you both from taking that step. “I just don’t want you getting hurt or taken advantage of.” She lied, her words sharp, unyielding, and tone laced with frustration and anger. That wasn’t a complete lie, but it was still not the whole truth. She took a slow, deep breath to calm herself down. Gradually, her tense body relaxed, and her previously sharp tone softened. “You’re all I have.” As she spoke again, her eyes, which had been stern, took on a gentler expression, and you could sense vulnerability in her voice, suddenly yearning for ‘reassurance’. “I’m sorry for being rough. It’s just… seeing anyone else with you just… fuck, I don’t know why it pisses me off so much.”  Ellie wanted you to believe she was reacting out of fear because she didn’t want to lose you. But her motives were more complex than that. While it was true that she was afraid of losing you, her actions were purely driven by a sense of selfishness. She strongly believed that you were meant to be together and that it was only a matter of time until you realized she was the one for you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “No one could ever replace you, and I hope you know that.” With a gentle tug of her costume, you pulled her close. Your arms wrapped tightly around her, and you could feel the weight of her body press against yours as she leaned into you. As you held her, you could feel the tension slowly start to melt away, replaced by a familiar sense of safety that usually came with being in her arms. “No, you’re right. I’m not your girlfriend, you can do whatever you want—fuck whoever you want.” Her voice quivered with hesitation, and her heart felt like it was weighed down by a heavy burden. She almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anything, the words tasting sour on her tongue. She knew it wasn’t normal to be so possessive of your best friend, no one acted this way toward their friends. So what was she supposed to do? Lock you up in a glass cage and never let you go? Although the idea was tempting she knew she had to set you free─free enough to find someone at least, even if it felt extremely wrong. What were the chances it would last?

˳·˖𖤐 Despite her promise to let you go, to let you be with whoever you wanted, the girl you’d danced with that night was found dead the following day, her body left in a state so brutal it was as if every ounce of someone’s anger had been carved into her. The pieces didn’t quite fit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to confront it—not yet. Maybe it was all just a coincidence, a horrible coincidence.

˳·˖𖤐 And yet, every time the news flashed across the screen or a passing conversation brought it up, her casual comments made your blood run cold.

“Oh, what a shame,” she’d murmur, not a hint of genuine sympathy in her tone.  “Guess this is what happens when you hoe around,” she’d remark, her voice steady, an almost imperceptible smirk ghosting her lips. “Hm… sucks. ‘s not even her best picture,” she’d add, a detached sort of amusement glinting in her eyes.

˳·˖𖤐 When you tried to confront her and ask questions that had been gnawing at your mind, her responses were so calm—too calm, too controlled. Her voice was smooth as she answered, almost as if rehearsed as she tried to make you feel ridiculous for even asking.

“I was with you last night. What are you implying?” she’d say, her tone just soft enough to make you question yourself. “You sound crazy right now,” she’d whisper, eyebrows raised in concern. “Maybe all these murders going on are messing with your head.”

With every word, she seemed to pull you deeper into self-doubt, her gaze softening, her voice laced with an almost painful sweetness. “Are you listening to yourself right now? I love you, but… you’re scaring me. You’re being paranoid.”

˳·˖𖤐 Her words lingered, a shadow in your mind until you couldn’t tell if it was your sanity or hers that was starting to slip.

˳·˖𖤐 The third person to disappear into thin air was your boyfriend.

˳·˖𖤐 Shortly after that heated argument with your best friend, you got into your first relationship. She gave you a little more freedom to talk to people, to socialize, but her jealousy flared whenever she saw you with him—or anyone else, for that matter.

God, why him? she’d ask herself, the question gnawing at her each time she saw the two of you together. He wasn’t exceptionally bright, his style was awful, and, to her, he wasn’t even remotely attractive. Whenever he was around, she’d mock him or throw out casual, biting jokes. She always seemed to be the only one laughing. Strangely enough, her snide remarks never fazed him—he never seemed intimidated by her like other guys who quickly fell away, discouraged or unnerved after a few seconds of her scrutiny. But not him. He stuck around, seemingly immune to her attempts to chase him off. So she took care of him. You were left with nothing but a single message, his name lighting up your screen in a sudden, unexpected end. He said he had to break things off because he was moving out of town, needing a “clean break,” a “fresh start.” The words felt hollow, calculated, and as you read through the message, your emotions twisted—hurt, anger, betrayal, all swirling within you. It was your first relationship, and he had chosen to end it over a text message without any explanation or warning. You felt like you meant nothing to him, and the fact that he disappeared from your life without as much as a goodbye added insult to injury. You were upset, not because you were particularly in love with him, but because you hated the feeling of being rejected. You had always been in control, the one rejecting people, so it was a blow to your ego to be on the receiving end of a breakup. 

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie, of course, had been there for you, providing support and care during this difficult time. She had to be here, because what kind of friend would she be if she wasn't there for you for something she had caused?

She squeezed you tighter, those strong, toned arms wrapping around you with an unbreakable and relentless grip. Her breath was hot on your neck as she murmured against your ear, lips grazing your skin with a smug smirk. “I told you this would happen,” she’d mutter, words slipping out with that intoxicating blend of annoyance and affection. She’d let her slender, cold fingers trace your spine in a way that left a shiver behind, and her hand would possessively rest on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer. “No one—no one will ever love you like I do. No one knows you like this. He could never do what I can.” “You should’ve known better, angel.” There was a dark satisfaction in her voice, almost sounding like she was taunting you, leaning in just close enough for you to feel the heat of every word against your flesh. “Told you he wasn’t the one for you, baby girl.” 

˳·˖𖤐 Not only did Ellie ensure that your boyfriend would never come anywhere near you, but now she seemed to be spending more time than ever clinging close to you, cuddling with you, and sharing the bed with you—all under the guise of offering you comfort. 

˳·˖𖤐 Your friendship had always been intense and boundaryless, it had never been anything but healthy. And it had always been increasingly clear to anyone looking in from the outside that your relationship was more than platonic. Ellie had always been obsessed with you, and her love for you had bordered on devotion. But while others could see this, you remained oblivious to her true feelings, always wondering if she liked you back.

˳·˖𖤐 And that’s when things started to change. Maybe it was the fact that you now lived together and got to spend every second with each other, or maybe it was the fact that your stupid boyfriend was out of the picture─you weren’t sure, but you didn’t mind, and neither did she. Slowly, it was back to just you and her again. Your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, and there were no other distractions. It was just the two of you like it always used to be.

You were leaning back on the couch, a joint held between your lips, your eyes heavy and red as you focused on the big TV in front of you. It was Friday night, a time when everyone else would usually go out, but for you, it only meant one thing: movie night with Ellie. The living room was dark, except for the light cast from the TV, making your faces glow in the darkness. You let out a throaty chuckle, taking another hit before sinking deeper into the couch and passing the joint back to her. You were rambling about random stuff as the movie went on, just filling in the background noise at first. Neither of you was really focused on the movie, too high to pay attention to what was happening on the screen. Your mind was wandering to other places, and it was easy to lose track of the scenes as they unfolded.  But then, a steamy scene suddenly caught both of your attention. You could feel the heat rising from the joint and maybe something else; the smoke filling your lungs and a fuzzy feeling spread throughout your body, filling you with a sense of relaxation and mellow contentment. But there was still a tiny fluttering sensation in your stomach, even though you knew it shouldn't be there. It was a strange feeling, like a soft and unexpected rush of excitement, and it made you feel both giddy and nervous all at once. As you watched the steamy scene playing out in front of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of Ellie licking her chapped and dry lips, her green, dilated eyes fixed like a laser on the screen. Her breathing was slightly faster, and you could feel her body tense up as she watched the scene. She didn’t take her eyes off the screen for a second, as if her life depended on watching it. “Y’know, you were my gay awakening,” she spoke suddenly, her husky voice breaking the silence and snapping you to attention. She stared at you, her eyes lingering on every part of your body before settling back on your face. It was a bold confession, coming out of nowhere, and suddenly, you felt your heart beating faster. A dry chuckle slipped out of you, catching in your throat. Even though you were high and a little out of control, her admission had you feeling speechless. “Is that so?” You ran your tongue across your bottom lip, trying to wet it as your throat suddenly felt parched and your pulse thrummed in your ears, hard and loud. “Hmmm-mmmh,” she hummed lazily in response, sounding almost like a low purr in your ear. Her hand rested on your bare thigh, squeezing gently, her touch delicate but firm. Heat pooled in your stomach almost instantly. “Always thinking of you when I touch myself.” “Show me.” You challenged her with a sultry tone.   Ellie scoffed, her scarred auburn brows lifting in disbelief. Had she heard you right? She swore she was hallucinating. “What?” “You heard me. Touch yourself,” you commanded, your voice firm, leaving no room for doubt. The corners of your lips lifted into a smirk, the confidence in your gaze obvious.

“And you’re just gonna sit there and stare like a creep?” She shook her head slowly, an amused smile on her face as if she wasn’t sure whether to take you seriously. But the soft chuckle and the way her eyes stayed locked on yours hinted that she was not entirely opposed to the idea. “Maybe, maybe not.” You shifted on the couch, turning fully to face her, now closer than ever. Practically in her space, watching her, you could almost feel her heart about to explode. Those little pajama shorts you had on had her captivated. Her eyes kept slipping down, caught on how tightly they hugged your curves, tracing every inch of your legs and hips. She tried to keep her gaze on your face, but it was impossible to stop glancing lower.  “If you do it, I’ll do it too,” you added, your voice dripping with temptation as her silence stretched out. And with that, something in her snapped, a fuse blowing in her mind until the only thing left was pure, raw need. No hesitation, no questions—just her fingers reaching into her waistband, spurred on by that hungry look in your eyes. You both sat there, legs spread, your hands slipping inside your panties, each of you putting on a show for the other.   Ellie’s breath hitched, and her fingers moved with fervor, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by how her parted lips let out shallow breaths, quiet gasps escaping as her hand worked. She moved with purpose, fingers gliding through her wetness, quickening her pace to get you to keep up.  “Do what I do,” she groaned, her voice low and rough. You obliged, your fingers following her frantic rhythm.  “Fuck, Ellie,” you moaned, biting back the whimper that her every move pulled out of you. 

She didn’t miss a thing, loving how you trembled and squirmed under her gaze, your body aching, practically begging. Her wildest fantasies were unfolding right in front of her, and she was greedy, wanting every sound, every gasp, every moan.   “You like that, yeah?” she rasped, her voice so rough it made your walls clench. The empty ache inside you was unbearable, your fingers slippery and soaked as you followed her every twist and stroke. You nodded, desperate, moans spilling out without restraint, each one making her move even faster. The sight of her, her touch, her ragged breaths was dizzying. She wanted to own every second, to make you crave her as much as she craved you. Your needy voice rang out, soft and breathy, “Mmmhh… need more, El.” You sounded so desperate, so whiny, it made her heart race. You were just so fucking pretty, and she couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel to have her fingers inside you, feeling every desperate pulse, every needy clench around her as you milked her fingers deliciously. Before she could even process the thought, you slid your other hand down, sinking two fingers past your folds with a soft sigh, filling yourself as deep as you could.  The sight made her breath hitch, a low moan slipping out as she watched, knowing that this image would be carved into her brain forever. She could already feel herself getting off to the thought of this moment, over and over again. Your fingers moved in sync, one hand teasing and torturing your clit while the other pumped inside, stroking that perfect spot that made your thighs tense and shiver. Ellie watched, her brows knitted, barely able to tear her eyes away from your sadly still-covered cunt. “God,” she gasped, her chest heaving as she took in every pretty little expression, every sound slipping from your lips as you finger-fucked yourself. She was beyond turned on, completely mesmerized by how good you looked, and couldn’t hold back any longer. With her hand still buried in her boy shorts, she flicked her clit faster, fingers rubbing in desperate, frantic messy circles as she got swept up in the sight of you. “So fuckin’ needy,” she taunted, her voice low and hoarse.

“Gonna...g’na cum,” you whined, eyes squeezed shut, breaths coming out in short, shaky bursts. In a move that sent a shiver down your spine, Ellie reached out and gently tugged your hand away from your shorts, intertwining her fingers with yours.  “Me too—wanna cum with you, need you close,” she gasped, her words breaking into soft moans as her own high built. She squeezed your hand tight, needing the contact as her hips jerked up, chasing her release. Your other hand kept moving, your fingers hitting that perfect, spongy spot again and again until— “I’m coming!” you cried out, your moans reaching a pitch that filled the room, echoing through the walls, your fingers slamming into yourself as you came, waves of pleasure crashing over you. 

“Ooooh fuck!” Ellie groaned, her hips bucking as she rubbed herself faster, her hand squeezing yours hard as she climaxed, her voice hoarse and breathless. 

You sat there, chests heaving, bodies still trembling in the aftermath, catching your breaths in silence as the euphoria slowly faded. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, gradually, reality seeped back in as you both glanced at each other, feeling completely blissful. Her lips pulled into a soft smile, cheeks flushed as her thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of your hand.

Feeling a rush of warmth, you leaned back, wiping your fingers on the soft fabric of your pajama shorts, a quiet contentment settling over you. Ellie tugged gently at your tank top, silently inviting you to come closer. You obliged, sinking into her embrace as she wrapped her arms around you. She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering in her dazed, dreamy voice about how perfect the moment had been, dropping little words of affection she’d usually never say out loud. With the weed still buzzing in her system, it all slipped out way too easily.

You drifted off in her arms, her warmth and steady breaths lulling you to sleep as the TV murmured softly in the background.

˳·˖𖤐 It was as though her infatuation with you intensified after that night, if that was even possible. She couldn’t get you out of her mind, and her focus on every little detail of your appearance became more and more pronounced. You were all she could draw, your lips, your nose, your brows, your eyes. She was convinced that she was the only one who truly appreciated your beauty. She believed that everyone else was too superficial to appreciate you for who you really were. To her, no one else deserved you─not like she did. You were the center of her world, and she couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were like a drug to her, and she craved you more than anything else, her mind was consumed with thoughts of you.

˳·˖𖤐 There was this sick habit of hers, one that she’d never admit out loud but couldn’t shake. Every night, she watched you as you slept, eyes glued to how your oversized shirt barely hung onto your curves. It was like she was waiting—no, hoping—for that shirt to ride up just a little bit more, enough to give her a full view of those soft legs and the tiny slip of fabric that barely covered you. 

You always seemed so relaxed, so at ease around her, never thinking twice about what you wore, especially when you two shared a bed. You’d just crawl under the covers, no pants, no bra, just that soft, baggy shirt. And every time, it drove her wild. Part of her wondered if you knew exactly what you were doing, the way you’d stretch and twist, giving her those little glimpses that made her pulse race—and to answer her silent dilemma, yes, you were doing it on purpose.  She couldn’t look away. Her hand would slip under her waistband, touching herself as her eyes roamed over you, desperate for more than just a view. She couldn’t resist ever since she admitted she’d been touching herself to the thought of you for as long as she could remember.  Even you could feel the tension every time her eyes lingered on your body or lips. Every time she shifted closer, her fingers grazing your thigh just a little too long just to pull away again, chickening out. All you wanted was for her to close that painful gap, to stop playing around and just touch you the way you knew she wanted to. Every night was a silent invitation, a wordless game where every move you made was another way to get her attention, pushing her until she couldn’t stand it any longer. Ellie licked her lips, her eyes glued to the sight beside her. Watching you sleep like this always turned her on─it was the combination of ‘innocence’, vulnerability, and sheer beauty that did it. The slight roll of your shirt had exposed just enough skin to make her heart race, her mind filled with naughty thoughts. You were never aware of how much she wanted to feel you and touch you inappropriately, but she knew it might ruin your friendship, and she couldn’t risk it.  Feeling her arousal increasing with every passing second, she slipped her hand under the covers. She knew it was wrong; she shouldn't be doing this while you were asleep next to her, sleeping peacefully as she came all over her fingers at the sight of your half-exposed body─but that didn’t stop her from doing it anyway. The temptation was too strong, and it was impossible to resist you. “Fuck... You’re killing me…” she thought to herself, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. It was late at night, and she couldn't resist anymore.

Without hesitation, she slid her hand into her shorts and started playing with herself. Her green, concentrated eyes never left your body, studying every curve and dip hungrily. Calloused fingers brushed against her sensitive nub gently, her hips slightly jerking away from her hand. She was so sensitive; you had her pussy throbbing like crazy, and the worst part was that you didn’t even do shit. It was her fault, her perverted and filthy mind's fault. But good lord, if she would sell all her organs to touch you. “The fuck are you doin’ to me…” she murmured under her breath as she played with her wetness, feeling how messy you made her. When her fingers returned to her clit, circling it gently, her breath hitched. She knew she had to be quiet; you were occasionally a light sleeper, and she couldn't risk getting caught. She parted her legs further apart as she kept teasing her clit slowly. “God…” She whispered, her breath coming out in short, shallow gasps, causing her voice to be soft and sultry as she rubbed herself with increasing tempo. There was no hesitation or inhibition, just raw, unadulterated desire dripping from every fiber of her being. So fucking nasty. She wondered what your reaction would be if you woke up and caught her in the act, but, yet again, there was something exhilarating about the risk, about the idea of you seeing her in the middle of her filthy act. Her face flushed as she imagined this, her mind filled with naughty scenarios as she rubbed herself harder and faster.  “Mmph... so beautiful…” Her eyes never left your body, even while touching herself. For some reason, it felt so good knowing you were just inches away, unaware of what she was doing. She couldn't help but fantasize about you pleasing her—she needed your fingers, you, and she also fantasized about reciprocating the favor.  “Can't wait to taste you... touch you…” She mumbled, lost in her fantasies. Her body trembled slightly from anticipation, she was close. “Mmm... fuck... gonna cum” Her voice was strained, increasing the pressure on her throbbing clit. It was becoming challenging to stay quiet, and she just hoped you wouldn't wake up to this.

When she did come, she pulled her damp and sticky hand out of her boxers, sucking her fingers clean before turning her head slightly to look at you, admire you. You laid there sleeping like an angel, your hair cascading down your face. She watched you with mixed emotions. 

Ellie’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she breathed, and her forehead was damp with sweat, her red-brown hair sticking to her freckled lush skin. Despite the guilt she knew she should be feeling, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She promised herself she wouldn’t do it again, but deep down, she knew it was merely the first of many more. 

˳·˖𖤐 The more she did it, the more confident and bold she became, convinced that you’d never catch her.

˳·˖𖤐 One night, you had a bit too much soda before falling asleep. As the night wore on, you began to slowly wake up, feeling the urge to go to the bathroom.

She was so caught up in the moment that she didn’t notice the slight shift beside her. Your eyes fluttered open just wide enough to catch a glimpse of her hand moving under the covers. Her pale face was flushed, a blush covered her cheeks and her cute nose, her skin coated with a light sheen of sweat. She was biting down on her bottom lip, her eyes tightly shut, trying to keep herself quiet, while her tattooed arm was stuffed deep inside her boxers. Her toned abs tensed up subtly as her perky tits peeked through her black t-shirt, jiggling with every tiny movement she made. Fuck, what a sight. You thought you were dreaming. Hell, you were sure of it. Why would she even do that next to you? You knew you should’ve done or said something, but the sight of your best friend pleasuring herself right beside you only made your pussy throb madly, and the way she dirty-talked to herself to make herself cum. God.

You squeezed your thighs together, pretending to be asleep. Her soft moans made you feel indescribable things, and you felt yourself getting increasingly wet; it felt like torture to lay there and pretend to be asleep while she pleasured herself like that, but at the same time, it was addictive.  So, instead of confronting her, you decided to play along. Wearing slutty thongs to bed became your new routine, and of course, it didn’t take Ellie too long to notice. Some nights, you could feel her lifting your beloved oversized shirt up just a bit to take a better look at your body. It was hard to suppress a smile, but you managed.

“A fucking thong, really? God.” you could hear her mutter quietly.

She’d mumble random shit like, “Wanna fuck you real bad,” when she was close to her orgasm. 

You’d often shift a bit too close to her to make her freak out, interrupting her imminent orgasm. It was entertaining hearing her panic and freeze. The little sigh of relief she'd let out when she looked over you to make sure you were ‘sleeping’ was even cuter to you.

˳·˖𖤐 One day, while doing the laundry, your eyes caught a flash of red fabric peeking out of her sweatpants, tucked deep inside the pocket. A brief moment of recognition made you realize it was your thong, one that you had lost long ago. And you remembered vividly how you had always wondered where it had gone. You knew Ellie had something to do with it—indeed, you were not wrong. “Perv,” you let out a breathy chuckle as you withdrew the thong from her pocket and tossed it inside the washing machine. 

˳·˖𖤐 Though you couldn’t say shit. You weren’t really in a position to, not when you had stolen her boxers—the very ones she had made a mess of the other night, getting off to your ‘innocent’ form in that thong, all sprawled out for her eyes only. Unlike her, you had tucked it away, ensuring she’d never find it—in your bottom drawer, buried beneath a pile of neatly folded clothes.

˳·˖𖤐 Everything had been rainbows and roses since your boyfriend was out of the picture, leaving Ellie with you all to herself, just as she liked it. She’d half-expected this wouldn’t last forever, but she didn’t think it would unravel so soon, too soon.

After your shower, wrapped only in a towel, you realized you’d forgotten to grab fresh clothes. Too lazy to trek back to your room, you decided Ellie’s closet would do just fine. “El! I’m borrowing your clothes!” you called out, already swinging open her closet door without waiting for a response. The woody, warm scent of her filled the small space, mingling with the crisp smell of laundry detergent.

Your gaze drifted downward, catching on a gym bag lying half-zipped. The black fabric looked dull under the dim light, but something about it drew you in. There were dark stains on the shirt peeking out—a rusted, dried red that had you swallowing hard. Right next to it sat a Ghostface mask, its hollow, grinning face staring up at you, taunting you, like it knew something you didn’t. 

Just then, Ellie’s voice cut through the silence, a little too rushed, a little too panicked. “Wait, I’ll get it for you!” You heard her footsteps nearing, but by the time she appeared in the doorway, you were already crouched down, inspecting the items, your fingers clutching your boyfriend’s shirt—now stiff with dried blood—and a stained knife in the other.

She froze, her already pale face drained of color as your eyes met. She didn’t say a thing, didn’t try to explain or reach out. She simply stood there, like a deer caught in headlights, waiting for you to make the first move.

“What the fuck?” you choked out, anger tangling in your throat. Your voice cracked, but you didn’t let it stop you. “Why do you have this, Ellie?!” The words were sharp, edged with accusation, and your fingers tightened around the shirt, clinging to the blood-soaked fabric like it was proof of a reality she couldn’t deny. 

Ellie flinched, cursing herself for not getting rid of that piece of evidence. Maybe it was the procrastination, or perhaps she was just too wrapped up in you—you had that effect on her. Her expression flickered between panic and something else, something guarded, as if she were mentally scrambling to find the right lie to feed you.

“I swear, it’s not what it looks like.” Her voice was low, almost eerily calm, meant to keep you from losing your mind and freaking out even more, but it was doing the opposite. “Sit down. I can explain. I promise.” She inched closer, coaxing you back toward her bed, trying to control the situation, as if talking you down would make all of this disappear. But you stepped away from her, backing toward the closet instead.

“Then fucking explain,” you demanded, your voice rising, heat flooding your cheeks as your pulse hammered. Your eyes trailed down to the Ghostface mask lying on the floor, and you kicked it toward her. “What the hell are you doing with all this shit? With my boyfriend’s shirt?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected you, as if that made a difference in the moment. But she cared enough about it to not hold her tongue. You scoffed in disbelief at her correction, and your stern look only prompted her to keep talking, desperate to answer your question. “I found it in the trash,” she began, her tone too smooth, her words practiced. “I was going to take it to the cops.” But you both knew that was a shitty excuse. The explanation hung in the air, feeble and hollow, cracking under the weight of your inquisitor glare.

“That’s a fucking lie, and you know it,” you spat, tightening your grip on the knife, its sharp tip now aimed right at her. 

“Just sit down, please. I’ll tell you everything.” Her words spilled out, each one more frantic than the last, thick with desperation as she inched closer, hands reaching out like she was steadying herself—or preparing to corner you.

You held your ground, pressing your back into the cold closet door, “No, fuck that!” you snapped, refusing to let her control the moment. Her jaw tightened, and in an instant, she lunged forward, catching your wrist and forcing it up against the wood, pinning the knife-holding hand in place.

“Listen to me!” she growled, her voice growing louder, almost vibrating with a tension that rippled between you, making you quiver. Her face was close, too close, so close that her warm breath hit your face, and her eyes locked onto yours, wild verdants unwavering, staring into your dilated pupils.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” you shouted, fury shaking the air between you as you pulled at her iron-tight grip. But it was useless. You were sick of her lies, of her half-truths. All you truly desired was for her to lay it all bare for you ‘cause you weren’t fucking dumb, and deep down, you knew it. You had known all along. Her grip only tightened, her knuckles turning white against your skin as her breaths came fast. This Ellie was raw, untamed—a far cry from the girl you had around every day. But in this harsh intensity, there was something real, something you’d been craving for.

“You wanna know the truth? Fine!” Her voice rose, each word bitten off, hard enough to make you flinch. She gazed down at the bloodstained shirt sprawled across the floor, her face hardening, “Yeah, that’s his. And yeah, that’s his blood. He deserved what he got.” 

“What the fuck, Ellie, you had no fucking right—” She slammed her other hand against the wooden surface of her closet door, inches away from your head, causing you to cut off your words before they could be fully uttered.

“He was cheating on you!” she interrupted you, her voice rough with anger, her face flushing red. “I saw him, alright? With that girl from the bar—the one you were always paranoid about. I fucking saw him with her. So yeah, I followed him, and things got… out of hand.”

You scanned her face, searching for any hint of regret or guilt, but all you found was a complete lack of remorse, an expression that only seemed to scream she’d do it all over again if she could. But it was exactly that thing in her eyes that pulled you in even more. “Then why not just tell me?” 

Why couldn’t you fear her? Why weren’t you grossed out? Shouldn’t you have had a typical reaction to her revelation, like screaming or crying over the brutal murder of your boyfriend? Instead, here you were, feeling oddly fascinated, giddy even.

“I wanted to,” she admitted, her voice a little raspier, her eyes glistening with what looked like tears—fake ones. The sudden empathy felt odd, something that didn’t belong to her, and you knew her too well for this shit. “But then I saw you, finally free, happy without him dragging you down. I thought I’d done you a favor. And then I just… couldn’t say it.” 

You pressed yourself harder against the closet door, staring at her like you were seeing her for the first time. You shook your head, “You’re lying,” you stated flatly, watching her mask drop.

“What? You think I’d lie?” she shot back, trying to twist the situation, like you were crazy for even suspecting her. But you knew better. Psychology classes were really paying off.

“Yes, Ellie, you’re lying.” you leaned in, and her jaw clenched as you continued. “You did it to Amanda and that girl at the party? You think I don’t remember that night? Just admit it!” You practically yelled, and a shadow passed over her face like an ominous cloud, her expression hardening again, her eyes growing cold, dark in a way that caught you off guard. One thing was for sure—there was a certain beauty in the way her captivating jade orbs effortlessly switched between the deceptive facade and the cold, calculated gaze of a serial killer. 

“Admit what?” her tone was mocking, like she was daring you to say it.

“That you—” The words stuck in your throat, your gaze slipping to the Ghostface mask on the floor. That’s when she ripped the knife out of your hand, her grip firm as she held it close to you, not quite pressing it into your skin, just close enough to see if it’d rattle you.

“C’mon,” she murmured, leaning in with that daring, dark smile, “say it.” Her eyes flashed with an edge of mania like she was enjoying this, feeding off your reactions, like some sick parasite.

“You killed them all.” you managed, voice barely a whisper, and she threw her head back in a laugh that sent chills down your spine.

“God, do you hear yourself? You sound pathetic,” she chuckled darkly, her knife tracing a line along your cheekbone, slow enough to make you shiver, close enough to cause goosebumps to erupt on your skin. Your chest tightened, your heartbeat loud in your ears as her lips curled in that contorted smile. ​​Your breath hitched as she leaned in, her gaze piercing through your irises, capturing every fleck of color.

“What? Gonna kill me now?” you breathed, your words almost taunting, a faint smirk pulling at your lips as her eyes narrowed.

She tilted the knife against your throat but still put no pressure. You felt yourself leaning into it, letting the thrill course through you and that familiar excitement growing in your tummy. “Gonna make me?” she whispered, voice thick and low, and for the briefest moment, her composure cracked—just enough for you to see her desperation, like she was hanging onto a thread. She needed you to stay, even after all this. She couldn’t live without you.

“I just want the truth,” you uttered, your voice soft, never breaking eye contact. And if you did, it was only to let your eyes drop to her lips, she was so tantalizingly close that it was impossible not to. “Drop the mind games. I want the truth.” You didn’t know how the hell you could still want her, adrenaline tangling in your chest, but you did. Maybe even more than before.

Her brows rose in mock surprise as she cocked her head. “You want the truth?” she echoed, lips parting in a cold smirk. “Fine. Yes, I killed your stupid fucking boyfriend. He died like a pussy,” she sneered, anger flashing as she clenched the knife, thinking of his hands on you, touching what had always belonged to her.

“Why?” you whispered, watching her like you were peeling away her layers, seeing her stripped of all pretenses.

“Why do you think?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes like it was obvious.

The words that tumbled from your mouth after her revelation left her almost astonished.

“How’d you kill him?” then, with a morbid fascination you added, “What did it feel like?” your head tilted slightly to the side. 

˳·˖𖤐 The more she went on and on about the macabre details, the more it turned you on. She was taken aback by your enthusiasm and curiosity, the specific questions flowing from your lips with an unsettling calm that she struggled to comprehend. It was almost as if you were savoring every twisted word that came from her. She couldn’t wrap her head around how her dark confessions had led to this moment—both of you naked, with you perched on top of her.

Ellie was gorgeous—way too gorgeous to be a serial killer, or a psychotic person. She was even more gorgeous beneath you, auburn strands of hair splayed across the pillow, messy but not as messy as her dripping pussy. Her breath hitched as your fingers tightened around the handle of her switchblade, the cold metal gliding from her neck down to her chest, drawing lazy white scratches all over her alabaster skin.

A low, frustrated groan escaped her lips as you drew lazy circles around her areolas with the sharp point of the knife, watching with satisfaction as her pink nipples hardened, standing at full attention for you, as hard as rocks and begging to be tortured. You could feel her grow restless beneath you—her hips bucking in a desperate attempt to grind against your pussy, but you lifted yourself ever so slightly, just enough to deprive her of the friction she craved.

“Desperate?” you mocked, your bottom lip jutting out in a cruel pout. Ellie’s eyes flicked up to yours, glazed with lust and frustration, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. A cocky front, even now. But it was just a front, she was so fucking weak for you.

“Yeah,” she rasped, her voice betraying her need, but her eyes showed a glint of defiance. She couldn’t resist trying to fight back. “But you’re dragging this out like a coward.”

You hummed sultrily, letting the blade press just a little harder against her dotty complexion—not enough to cut, but enough to leave faint red marks across her flesh. “Oh, you think you’re in a position to talk back?” you spat, your free hand pinning her wrist above her head as she squirmed. “You’re fucking sick, Ellie.”

“Like you’re any better,” she sneered, though her voice trembled as the tip of the knife traced down her sternum toward her stomach. Goosebumps rose on her sun-spotted skin as her breathing became more erratic, her hips lifting in vain again to seek the friction you kept cruelly out of her reach.

“Not the one going around killing people, am I?” you snorted, the blade now grazing and lingering just below her belly button.

Ellie’s defiance cracked, her voice weaker, more fragile as she muttered, “I did it for you.” it made your heart skip a beat or beat faster—you really couldn’t tell from all that adrenaline clouding your rational thoughts.

“You’re trembling,” you noted with a sly smirk, her cocky grin faltering as the knife inched lower, closer to where she needed you most. Ellie bit her lip hard, a needy whimper slipping through despite her best effort to stifle it.

“I need you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, one hand reaching up to rest on your hip. Her touch sent a shiver through you, and you couldn’t help but lower yourself closer, pressing your body against hers. 

A wicked smirk tugged at your lips, pride swelling in your chest at the sight of her—the usually cold, calculated killer, reduced to this. All because of you. Seeing her this weak for you truly made you want to do the unholiest things to her, things you knew she would never forget about. You tossed the switchblade aside, forgotten as soon as your lips descended on her neck, sucking dark spots on her soft flesh. You let your teeth sink in, biting just hard enough to get a soft sound out of her. The auburnette was so desperate and sensitive that everything seemed to make her moan—every brief touch, every kiss, even your breathing fanning over her skin. She was already half-gone, and you were barely even getting started.

Her skin flushed beneath your lips as you kissed your way down her body, taking your sweet time, savoring each second of her squirming beneath you. Her breaths grew more ragged, her thighs twitching as you moved lower. Ellie’s body was a temple, and right now, it was all yours to worship.

She’d killed for you, it was the least you could do. So, was romance really dead?

˳·˖𖤐 You’d never imagined Ellie would care that much, never thought she’d be capable of that level of obsession. And you didn’t mind it one bit. No, quite the opposite. The realization only made your pussy throb madly, heat pooling between your thighs as your mind replayed her confession over and over like a broken record, focusing on the brutal details she had given you. It wasn’t just the idea of her killing—it was that she did it because of you, because she couldn’t let anyone else have you.

Every single muscle in her body tensed, her legs trembling as you hovered right above her hairy mound. You could see it—the way her wetness coated her folds, her pink clit, swollen and impatient, her pussy practically begging for attention, and it only made you want to tease her more. Your thumb teasingly drew tight, gentle circles on her aching nub, making her whimper almost exaggeratedly.

“Aww, look at you…” you purred, retracting your hand, your voice low, honed in sweet mockery. You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over her sensitive skin. “Soaking wet, desperate for me to touch you. Gonna start begging now?”

Your words made her whine, her resolve crumbling more with each passing second—not that there was any left. Her body betrayed her, hips lifting toward your face, her need palpable. But you weren’t done playing with her yet. You had all night ahead.

Your arms curled around her toned thighs, pulling her closer as you knelt at the edge of the bed, your face mere inches from her pussy. You could see how wet she was, how desperate she had become—there was even a dark wet patch on the sheets beneath her. You smirked up at her, eyes locking with hers as you lowered your mouth to her slick folds. With the tip of your tongue, you spread her moistened lips, and it was enough to make Ellie’s entire body jolt, a choked moan tearing from her throat as you tasted her, her sweet juices coating your lips as you lapped at her with slow, deliberate cat licks.

Ellie’s head fell back against the pillow, her hands gripping your hair with white-knuckled desperation as you ate her out, tongue flicking over her clit every now and then with just enough pressure to drive her mad. You sucked, your lips closing around her swollen bud, and Ellie’s back arched painfully off the bed, her thighs trembling around your head.

“Fuck… fuck…” she gasped, her hoarse voice scratching her already dry throat as her hips bucked uncontrollably and you held her down, refusing to let her squirm away from the relentless onslaught of your mouth.

You smirked against her, the vibrations of your giggle only making her moan louder. “Look at you, El,” you teased, your voice muffled between her thighs. “So sweet ‘n perfect f’me,”

You didn’t wait for a response, diving back in, your tongue swirling around her clit as you slipped two fingers inside her, curling them with brutal precision, finding that sweet spot that had her toes curling, her breath catching in her throat. Her gummy walls clenched around your fingers, and you could feel how close she was, her legs shaking violently.

Ellie’s moans grew louder, more frantic, her hands tugging at your hair hard as she tried to ground herself, grinding against your tongue. But you didn’t slow down—if anything, you fucked her harder, your fingers pumping into her fast and deep, your mouth never abandoning her needy clit, your nose buried in her trimmed bush.

“Beg me,” you commanded as you pulled away to breathe, her core swallowing every inch of your fingers greedily. All those years of plugging her fingers deep inside her wet cunt imagining they were yours instead were so worth the wait.

“I—fuck—” the green-eyed girl’s breath caught, her body shaking uncontrollably, her voice barely a whisper now. “Please… please…” She couldn’t even fucking function; you had reduced her to a broken mess.

“Can’t hear you,” you prompted her, your fingers plunging deeper, harder, until her back arched off the bed, a cry of pure need tearing from her throat.

“Fuck! Please, I need it—I need you—fuck, I’m so close!” she sobbed, her voice cracking as her orgasm crept closer, promising her to see stars, but you weren’t about to give her what she wanted—no, not yet.

You grinned wickedly, pulling your fingers out of her soaked pussy just before she could. A strangled, frustrated sob escaped her plump lips as her body writhed beneath you, her orgasm stolen, leaving her aching and needy.

“Aw, you’re not so smart, are you? You really thought I was going to let you come?” You leaned in, pressing your lips to her ear as you whispered, “Oh no, El… we’re just getting started. You’re not going anywhere.”

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie’s eyes widened with a mixture of frustration and confusion as you told her you’d let her come after you were done using her. You reached for your favorite strap-on, adjusting the harness until it sat snugly around her hips. Her wrists were bound securely to the headboard, the cuffs’ soft, fluffy lining pressing firmly against her skin. Her breath caught in her throat as the realization dawned on her, her eyes darting between the toy and your wicked grin. 

Her pupils were blown with lust as she watched you lower yourself onto her, the thick silicone toy sliding in with ease after you’d teased your throbbing bud with its tip. Her hands twitched, desperate to reach out, to touch you, but she couldn’t do much with the handcuffs keeping her wrists locked to the bed, the soft restraints holding her firmly in place. She watched with wide eyes as her cock stretched your needy, wet heat, sliding in and out. At first, your movements were slow and teasing, letting her take in every inch, but it didn’t take long before you picked up the pace, your body already accustomed to its size, moving with a frantic, eager rhythm.

“Fuuuck…” you panted, rolling your hips against the toy, your breath hitching as that familiar feeling built in your stomach. Ellie’s gaze was glued to you—your bouncing tits, your parted lips, the way your body moved smoothly above her. She wanted to touch, to feel you, but all she could do was watch as you used her, as you fucked yourself on the strap like she wasn’t even there. It was cruel, truly. Her body trembled with need as she watched you lose yourself in the overwhelming pleasure, her pussy throbbing with unmet desire as yours seemed to suck the toy deeper, and for a moment, she swore she could feel your walls tightening around her—perhaps it was the desperation playing a sick joke on her. She couldn’t help but let out a moan.

˳·˖𖤐 She had tried begging but she’d only be met with things such as:

“Cry about it,” you sneered, your voice cold and mocking as you watched her squirm restlessly beneath you.

“You’re such a fucking crybaby,” you murmured, fingers gripping onto her chin and forcing her to look at you as if her desperation was nothing more than a joke to you.

“I’m putting up a whole show for you, and you’re still complaining,” you chuckled darkly, a twisted satisfaction curling at the corners of your mouth as you looked down at her, reveling in her helplessness, your wetness dripping down the harness, making a mess on top of her.

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice cracking as she thrusted up. Mewls slipped out of your soft lips as the tip of her silicone cock hit your cervix, desperation written all over her flushed face. “Please let me touch you... let me do something...” Her voice hitched as she choked on a sob, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her glassy eyes locked onto yours, her cheeks streaked with the remnants of her pleas. “Fuck, I can’t—” she cried out, voice breaking again, her head tilting back as she tried to hold herself together. Her gaze flickered back up to you, trailing to your chest, lingering there hungrily. Bushy brows furrowed with longing as she licked her chapped lips.

But you weren’t listening. You were too lost in the pleasure of fucking yourself on her, your head thrown back, sobs pouring from your lips as the strap-on hit that perfect spot against your cervix. Your movements grew more frantic, hips slamming down harder, faster, the toy sliding in and out of your slick folds with ease. The wet sounds of your arousal filled her room, mixing with the desperate, needy gasps that escaped Ellie beneath you, her fingers curling into fists as the cuffs dug into her velvety skin, promising bruises she’d feel long after this was over.

Her eyes glazed over, chest rising and falling rapidly as she watched you ride her with reckless abandon. The sight of you, your body glistening with sweat, pretty tits bouncing with every thrust, was too much for her. She was on the edge, teetering, her body aching to release, but you wouldn’t let her. You wouldn’t let her do shit.

Ellie groaned, frustration and lust mixing in her voice as she bucked her hips uselessly beneath you, trying to gain even a fraction of relief from the sight of you fucking yourself senseless. “Please… please, I’m begging you,” she whimpered, her voice hoarse and broken, and god if it nearly made you squirt. “I need it—I need to come, please…”

You smirked down at her, not stopping, your hips grinding harder, riding the strap with everything you had. You leaned down, your breath hot against the shell of her ear as you whispered, “You’re not coming until I say you can. You’re going to sit there and watch me get off, and there’s nothing you can fucking do about it.” Cruelly pressing damp and sloppy kisses on the column of her neck, kisses that had her gasping pathetically.

˳·˖𖤐 And it went on and on, her eyes locked on the sight of your milky cum dripping down the thick, black strap, each drop making her bite back a groan. She wished she could taste you. Every time she tried to move or squirm too much for your liking, you’d smack her hard across the face, or switch to a new position just to tease her even more, making sure you were giving her the best view. It was only after the fifth—or maybe the sixth—orgasm that you finally uncuffed her.

The moment her wrists were free, she flipped you over, quick as lightning, giving you no time to react. She pinned you beneath her with a mischievous glint in her eyes, you looked up at her, panting and spent, your brows knitting together in a mix of frustration and exhaustion. She just smirked down at you, spreading your trembling legs apart with ease, her grip firm and unyielding.

“Oh fuck, no—” you gasped out, trying to squirm away as she wrapped her hand around the slick toy, guiding it right back to your abused entrance. She knew she could probably come right then, grinding against the back of the strap, but the thought of pushing you past your limits was far more thrilling. 

“You’re not stupid enough to think I’d let you go so easily, right?” she repeated your earlier words, her voice low and dangerous as she lowered herself over you, your sweaty bodies pressing together. “Didn’t you wanna be my helpless victim, babe?”

The redhead pushed in relentlessly, forcing your pulsating walls to swallow every inch, your back arching as she made you hold on just a little longer. Before long, your legs gave out beneath you as she pounded into you from behind, each thrust deep and brutal, your cheek pressed into the soft mattress. Her hand came down hard on your ass, leaving a sharp sting that burned like a bitch. The smacks kept coming, over and over, until your skin was bruised and your body was shaking with overstimulation. “This is for leaving me high and dry,” she hissed, her voice rough with frustration and desire, slapping the same bruised spot again and again, until you knew you’d be sore for days, unable to sit down.

˳·˖𖤐 When it was finally over, the two of you laid tangled together, breathless and sticky. Ellie’s chest heaved as she tried to steady her breathing, but a question lingered in her eyes—one that seemed to claw at her even now, despite everything you’d done to show her you weren’t running, that you weren’t disgusted by her nature. You had never been, for the matter, even when you were kids.

“You’re not gonna tell on me, yeah?” she rasped, her voice rough, her grip tightening possessively on your hip while her other hand gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Her touch was surprisingly tender, contrasting with the weight of her words, like she was scared to hear your answer. It made your heart swell knowing she feared losing you so badly.

But you were so drunk of the overwhelming contentment that you barely registered the tension in her voice. Instead, a sleepy smile tugged at your lips, and you blurted out, “Wanna be my girlfriend?” The question slipped out before you could think, your gaze locked onto her freckled face, admiring every angle and curve, the way the warm dim light softened her expression.

Ellie blinked, caught off guard, before a playful smirk curved her lips. “I am your girlfriend,” she gave your hip a gentle swat that made you chuckle softly, the sound mixing with the quiet hum of the fan.

“Y’know…you’re right,” you mumbled suddenly. Her hand drifted to your back, scratching lightly, soothing you as your body relaxed into hers. You turned your head, meeting her soft eyes again, while something darker flashed in yours. “He fucking deserved what he got,” Your voice was low, carrying a finality that made Ellie’s breath hitch. It was all the reassurance she needed. A wide grin spread across her face, her eyes lighting up with something almost feral, a giddy kind of joy. It was a smile so genuine, so purely her, that it was impossible to resist leaning in to kiss her, your lips meeting hers in a messy, heated kiss. 

“But yeah, if you leave me I’m gonna tell on you.”

˳·˖𖤐 She had gotten clingier and more eager after that night, always looking for an excuse to touch you, to keep you within reach. Whenever you went somewhere, Ellie trailed right behind you, like a shadow that wouldn’t leave your side. And honestly, you loved it—you thrived on bossing her around, enjoying how she would drop whatever she was doing just to be with you. If the two of you were inseparable as friends before, it had only gotten worse. Not that the obsessive, morbid love wasn’t there before, but now you both let it show, with no boundaries left to be set, no rules, just whatever twisted thing you both had become together.

˳·˖𖤐 Time flew by, and soon Halloween rolled around again, your favorite holiday. Ellie knew it, too, and she didn’t even try to say no when you convinced her to tag along to a party you’d been invited to. It was supposed to be a small, “close friends only” type of thing, but you dragged her with you anyway, making it clear you weren’t going to take no for an answer. Plus, you’d been at each other’s throats lately, bickering more than usual, and she didn’t want to risk making you any angrier. It was either coming along without putting up a fight or dealing with the idea of you going solo—knowing she’d just end up following you like the little creep she was, lurking in the shadows, making sure no one even dared to touch you.

˳·˖𖤐 The party turned out to be better than either of you had expected. A few drinks in, and you both started to loosen up, Ellie sticking close, practically attached to your side with some invisible rope. It was like she couldn’t let you out of her sight, even for a second, her hand always finding its way to your back or waist, keeping you close. You danced together, swaying in the colorful, pulsing lights, your bodies brushing intimately against each other. Her eyes stayed glued to you the whole time, like you were the Holy Mary herself, and she just couldn’t get enough. You reveled in her devotion, the way her grip on your hips would tighten as you moved. It was such a turn-on.

Eventually, the party began to wind down, and it wasn’t long before it was just the two of you left with Allison and her boyfriend, Lucas. The four of you gravitated toward the kitchen, where Ellie leaned against the counter, elbows propped up on the cold granite. She played with the knives, her fingers casually tracing the handles, sliding them in and out of the block absentmindedly.

Allison scrolled through her phone, her brown eyes squinting at the screen’s dim glow. “Another guy went missing,” she announced, her voice wavering as she scanned through the article. “I bet Ghostface has something to do with it.”

“Tragic,” Ellie muttered, her tone devoid of sympathy. Her eyes remained fixed ahead, a ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. You watched her, catching the unsettling indifference in her voice. When she noticed your gaze, she raised an eyebrow in mock innocence, daring you to question her. Instead, she shrugged. Allison went on and on about how creepy it was that Ghostface could be literally anyone, her voice holding a mix of fascination and fear. 

“I mean, think about it,” she said, eyes wide as she gestured dramatically. “It could be your neighbor, your friend, even someone you totally trust! Just wearing that mask and knife in hand, ready to strike any moment. It’s so fucked up!” As Allison thought about the countless times she had passed by potential killers, she couldn’t help but shudder in fear at her luck. How many times had she walked down a dark alleyway, taken a walk alone at night, or even trusted the wrong person? The thought of her mortality sent a chill down her spine and made her wonder how long her luck would hold out.

“Yeah, it’s scary,” you hummed, but then the conversation shifted back to the guy who had gone missing. 

“You’ve got to be dumb to get killed like that, though,” Ellie scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. “Came all the way from Michigan just to end up dead? Pathetic. Guess all those muscles didn’t help much.”

Allison frowned at Ellie’s lack of empathy, but she shrugged it off, scrolling through her phone for more details, her thumb flicking faster across the screen. “That’s… awful,” you murmured, chewing on your bottom lip as you glanced over at Lucas, who seemed unfazed by the conversation.

Lucas noticed your look and mistook it for unease. “You okay?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes. “Want a drink or something?”

You nodded, playing into his kindness. “Sure, thanks.”

He leaned over, pressing a kiss to Allison’s head before heading to the kitchen, leaving you, Ellie, and Allison alone in the dim living room.

“Wait—” Allison’s brows knitted in confusion, her voice soft but growing with unease. “How’d you know he was from Michigan? It doesn’t say anything about…” Her voice trailed off as she continued scrolling, her eyes flicking back and forth over the screen, trying to make sense of what Ellie had just casually dropped.

Ellie’s smile barely flickered. “Just a guess,” she replied smoothly, her gaze icy and unbothered, creeping Allison out.

You chuckled at the exchange, and Allison turned to you with a confused look. “C’mon, cheer up, Allison! We’re just messing with you. Can’t you take a joke? It’s Halloween!”

Allison’s frown deepened as she glanced between you and Ellie, her eyes clouding with suspicion. She let out a nervous laugh, trying to shake off the unsettling vibe. “You two are… really something,” she said, brushing it off, not wanting to overthink it. Maybe paranoia was just doing her dirty. Oh, if she only knew.

Ellie smirked, she leaned forward, her voice dropping low. “Oh, you have no idea,” she whispered, her tone laced with something dark and final, a warning the girl didn’t quite catch.

Lucas handed you the drink, his face lighting up with an easy smile, completely unaware of the exchange. 

“You guys wanna play a game?” you asked, grinning at Allison and Lucas. The suggestion hung in the air, deceptively playful. Allison exchanged a look with Lucas, her unease melting a bit, as if convincing herself she was just imagining things.

She forced a smile. “Sure. What kind of game?”

Ellie’s grin widened, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “How about something… fun?”

˳·˖𖤐 Maybe it was the thrill of the game or the intoxicating rush of chaos, but after a few questions were answered and it was your turn, your eyes widened in shock as the blade pierced your stomach. Time seemed to slow down as you locked eyes with Ellie, and what you saw there sent a chill down your spine—your girlfriend’s eyes were empty, devoid of emotion—not even guilt shone in her eyes. It was like staring into a void. 

Blood poured from your mouth, warm and sticky, and panic coursed through you. When a week ago she had suggested trying something new, never did you think that would lead to this—her knife buried deep inside your insides, and blood pouring out of you like a crimson-tainted waterfall.

“W-why…?” you choked on your own blood, the words barely audible but with the stillness of the room, they seemed to echo louder. 

Allison and Lucas stood completely frozen, utterly speechless, their bodies rigid with shock as they watched the horrific scene unfold before their eyes, feeling useless and not knowing how to stop it. The crimson blood pooled out of your wound, soaking the fabric of your shirt, while Ellie’s gloves gleamed with a sinister shine. The red wasn’t so visible against the darkness of her attire, but it was there, unmistakable. 

“It was the wrong answer, babe,” Ellie whispered, her words dripping with a sickening sweetness that made your skin crawl, and the innocent faint smile on her face made Allison want to rip her hair out. 

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Allison screamed, her voice laced with disbelief, her eyes wide as she took a shaky step back.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Lucas followed, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and anger, trying to process the madness unfolding in front of him.

“YOU’RE A FUCKING MONSTER!” Allison yelled, her voice cracking as she cried, her hands shaking.

Your body hit the floor with a heavy thud, and through half-lidded eyes, you saw the panic set in as Allison and Lucas before you stopped breathing entirely. They scrambled for the door, nearly tripping over themselves. Allison’s frantic, manicured hands rattled desperately the knob, her voice shrill as she screamed for help, but the door wouldn’t budge. Locked. 

And she hadn’t locked it. She was sure she hadn’t.

Lucas, desperate to protect her, grabbed a vase from the entry table and hurled it at Ellie, the glass shattering against her shoulder with a harsh crack. It staggered her for a moment, just long enough for them to dart in separate directions, fleeing up the stairs. 

Ellie grinned, her eyes flashing with excitement as she took off after Lucas, her steps heavy but steady, savoring the thrill of the chase, like a cat chasing a mouse. She looked over her shoulder at you before she raced up the stairs. Allison stumbled into the guest bedroom, slamming the door behind her. The auburnette could hear the blonde girl breathing heavily, panicked, the creak of the floorboards giving her away as she backed into the room.

But she decided to take care of Lucas instead, having labeled Allison as the weakest between the two. She successfully cornered Lucas at the end of the hallway. He threw open the door to the master bathroom, eyes darting desperately around for anything he could use to defend himself. He grabbed a towel rack, ripping it off the wall and wielding it like a bat as Ellie advanced on him, her face lit with a twisted satisfaction. A stupid towel rack wasn’t going to stop her, and honestly, it excited her. She loved how people fought for their lives, no matter how fucked up the situation was. It was fascinating to watch, like a wild show of survival instincts kicking in. The panic, the desperation on their faces and in their actions—it was what got her heart racing and made her feel alive.

“You… you’re insane!” Lucas stammered, brandishing the metal rod with trembling hands.

He was taller, bigger, stronger—details that only made the auburnette’s grin widen, her attentive eyes narrowing with anticipation. To her, he was nothing but a challenge, one she was all too eager to take on. Ellie chuckled darkly, her eyes never leaving him as she took one slow, measured step forward. “Only now figuring that out, huh?” She took another step, her shadow looming over him as he shrank back against the tiled wall, his breaths coming in panicked gasps. He swung the metal bar, catching her arm with a glancing hit, but it only seemed to amuse her more. She couldn’t feel pain—not even the faintest pulse of her own heartbeat, completely drowned out by the surge of adrenaline flooding her veins. She felt invincible.

With a swift, practiced precision, Ellie caught his wrist, twisting it sharply until the rod clattered to the aquamarine floor. “Nice try, Lucas,” she hissed before shoving him backward, hard enough that his head cracked against the tile. He slumped to the floor, groaning, his vision swimming as Ellie towered over him. But he fought nonetheless, his hands trying to stop her from sinking the sharp knife into his throat, but it didn’t last long. He didn’t last long.

“That was stupid,” she panted, standing over his corpse, her look sharp and full of disdain. Her face was scrunched in anger, but the adrenaline flooding her veins felt incredible—like a drug she couldn’t get enough of. The thrill of it. A loud noise snapped her from her thoughts. The old wood creaked under her black boots as she headed toward the room where she’d last seen Allison hide.

˳·˖𖤐 The guest bedroom door was slightly ajar, and she shoved it open with a firm kick. Her eyes locked onto Allison, sprawled lifeless on the floor, blood pooling around her still body. Her face was frozen in horror as if she’d seen a ghost in her final moments. Her gaze drifted up—to you, standing just a few feet from Allison’s lifeless body.

“Hey, babe,” you said with a crooked smile, giving her a little wave, clearly nervous but with a spark of excitement in your eyes that made her stare in awe. She remembered that feeling all too well—the jitters, the high that followed her first time. And here you were, cheeks flushed and grinning ear to ear like the fucking Cheshire cat, looking so damn giddy as you took it all in—like a kid who had just discovered their new favorite toy. 

Trying new things had definitely been the right move, and Ellie didn’t regret it for a second, because you were practically glowing. For the first time, you felt truly alive. It hit you then, just how much emptiness you’d been carrying all these years, how you’d learned to live with that hollow feeling. But this? This made you feel whole. Euphoric. Alive in every possible way.

“How’d I do?” you asked, almost childlike, looking up at her with eager eyes, fishing for approval—her approval. It was all you needed, and it felt like trying to impress a middle school crush all over again.

“Pretty good, my love. You did great,” she praised, a hint of pride sneaking into her voice.

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up, a satisfied grin spreading across your face.

Her gaze softened briefly, a low, amused, throaty laugh slipping from her lips as she pushed a stray lock of hair back with the back of her blood-stained glove, leaving a smudged streak of red across her cheekbone. Her emerald eyes sparkled as she took in the mess you’d created. “You know, for a second there, I didn’t think you’d go through with it. Look at you now.” Her tongue darted across her bottom lip as she looked at you up and down, ready to pounce on you any time now.

You blushed, a bit sheepish, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the floor. “What can I say? Guess you’re a bad influence,” you smirked, shrugging it off like it was nothing.

She tossed the knife aside, and you mirrored her every move, watching as she peeled off her gloves and stepped closer. Her toothy smile widened as she pulled you in, her thumb brushing softly across your cheekbone, still warm from the adrenaline rush, while her other trembling hand rested on your waist. “Oh, yeah? Gonna start blaming me now?”

“Maybe,” you shot back, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

The freckled girl leaned in, pressing her lips against yours, soft and warm and she tasted so sweet.

“Your performance down there was flawless, and your technique…” she trailed off, her eyes trailing down to Allison’s body, “Not bad for your first time. A little shaky on the left stab, but hey,” she shrugged, lips curling into a teasing smirk, knowing damn well that even the gentlest dose of constructive criticism would get under your skin, “we’ll work on it.”

You scoffed and swatted her hand away, but Ellie just giggled, her laugh soft and breathless. “Can’t believe you got that question wrong, though,” she reached up to cup your face, her thumb brushing your cheek again, she couldn’t keep her hands off of you. That familiar smug smirk tugged at her heart-shaped lips as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a more playful one, her breath warm against your heated skin. “We’ve only watched the first Scream movie a hundred times together,” she said, almost mockingly offended, her green eyes bright with mischief, the ones that told you exactly what she had in mind. And she swore she was falling deeper for you, you had her in a chokehold.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. “I only watched it because you were obsessed with it and I thought you were cute,” you admitted.

Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she raised her scarred eyebrow at you. “Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling her hand drift lower to your waist, pulling you closer, you cupped her cheek, your thumb caressing her blood-stained cheekbone lovingly, staring at her enamored.

Her lips brushed against your ear, voice low and teasing. “You know what I'm really in the mood for?” Her hand slipped lower and lower until it was resting on your plush ass, giving it a suggestive squeeze.

You chuckled, pretending to think. “Pizza?”

She let out a soft laugh. “I was gonna say you, but…” She gave you that crooked, lopsided smile, shrugging playfully.

You snorted, “Oh, well, that too. I just didn’t know killing works up your appetite.”

Her smirk deepened, revealing that dimple on her left cheek you loved so much, her infatuated gaze lingering on your lips almost as if she wanted to swallow you whole. “My bad. Should’ve warned you,” she murmured, then backed you toward the bed behind you, her hands rough but confident, pressing you down as she crawled on top, her breath hot and insistent against your supple skin.

Before you knew it, she was buried deep inside you, slender, calloused fingers curling and pressing against that spot that had you whining, and your legs trembling. Her other hand gripped her switchblade, cool metal tracing up to press it against your throat, and she could feel you squeeze her fingers. “Awwhh, baby,” she taunted, voice dripping with mockery. “You keep squirming like that, and it’s gonna cost you your life.”

You choked out a laugh, though it came out breathless and shaky. “You’d cum at the sight, wouldn’t you?” You bit your lip to stifle a moan, body struggling to hold still as she kept up that relentless rhythm, her fingers stretching and curling deep inside you, making your whole body shudder. You couldn’t help but trap her arm, a weak attempt to slow her down because you knew you wouldn’t last. Not with her pressing a knife on your throat. “Fucking psycho.”

“But you love me.” She said it so matter-of-factly, her lips curling with satisfaction as she watched you nod, helpless and needy, your eyes fluttering shut as your walls clenched around her, drawing her in like you couldn’t get enough.

“Yeah, I love you! F-Fuck…” you gasped, grinding down on her fingers, desperate, craving that friction your hungry clit needed. 

Her smitten gaze drifted to the lifeless body sprawled across the room, a proud smirk tugging at her lips. “So proud of you. You did such a good job. Look at her.” She tilted your face, forcing you to take it in. “Your work.” And in her fucked up mind, she truly believed it—your work deserved to be worshiped, just like Picasso’s after he was gone. A masterpiece, painted with every kind of brutal emotion.

You let out a shaky breath, almost dazed. “Yeah, I… I did that,” you stammered, voice breaking, caught somewhere between a whimper and a sob, you could feel it, you were close already and all that praising surely wasn’t helping.

“That’s right,” she murmured, nodding as her eyes roamed over you, taking you in like she was seeing you for the first time, it made you melt. “You’re so fucking hot, god. Made just for me. Perfect for me.”

˳·˖𖤐 Maybe she was right. You felt it deep down, a truth that clung to you. A match made in hell. And as long as you had her, you’d be more than fine.

The Prosperity and Fall

PART TWO

Warnings: bad bad bad memories, archons being dickheads, recalling of your death, more gore and blood, graphic descriptions of death, kidnapping, lots of swears, PTSD

Lemme know if I missed a warning, and I hope y’all enjoy!

—

You spend the next week off of work over the toilet puking or in your bed sleeping. No matter how hard you try, you can’t keep anything other than jello and pineapple juice down, and, well, that doesn’t make for a good condition to come into work.

Your boss wishes you good health, understanding the severity of your sickness (even if she doesn’t understand the reasoning behind it) and even being nice enough to make those days paid-off-time. With a hoarse voice, you thanked her, hanging up the phone and immediately rushing to the toilet to dry-heave anything you consumed, though nothing but bile comes up your throat.

When you finally recover enough to do at-home work, your thoughts are filled with nightmares of the Archons, of Liyue and Mondstadt, of Inazuma’s citizens jeering at you. The experience in Teyvat renders you sleepless, and you even resort to visiting a psychiatrist to be prescribed sleeping aids. They do, but even they don’t provide more than a few hours of sleep every few days.

Eventually the nightmares back off to every couple of nights. You still don’t go to your actual workplace. Every time you think of doing so, the memory of rocks and sticks and stones and fruit pelting your back comes into mind. The front door shuts and your shoes come off; the tears fall and the sobs become louder.

You unsubscribed from any Genshin YouTubers, actually deleted your Twitter account, blocked Genshin TikTokers, stuffed the figurines in storage, almost refunded your purchases (before breaking down again at the error screen, you clicked the exit button on your browser and collapsed to the floor), and tossed anything Genshin-related.

And after a while, it starts to feel better. You start to feel more normal. You text your friends dumb memes, actually being able to laugh at them instead of staring at them blankly like you did months prior. They take you on small, short outings to nice restaurants that aren’t too crowded, and you enjoy yourself instead of being flooded with panic attacks.

Unbeknownst—and without a care in the world—to you, however, Teyvat is suffering.

—

“Klee, I can’t give you any more water. We’re almost out.”

“But—“

Albedo looks down at his sister, dark circles under his eyes, and sighs tiredly. He’s exhausted, and has been for months now. Mondstadt’s famine—no, Teyvat’s— has only gotten worse recently, and a drought has begun to plague the lands with no regard for its inhabitants. He’s been working for a while on a solution, but has yet to come up with one that actually works. Even those who were forgiven or ignored have been affected by the sheer severity of ofthe situation.

“Here. You can have the rest of mine.”

“Thank you, ‘bedo.”

Klee clutches the half-empty bottle tightly and scurries back off to her room, leaving Albedo to his thoughts.

Ever since They were executed by the Archons, quality of life has quickly declined to the point that it’s nigh impossible to survive if you don’t live in one of the main cities of the nations. Liyue, especially, has been affected, what with being the city that Their blood coated the streets in.

He thinks back to the horrific memory.

Unable to help Them any more without being jailed for high treason, Albedo watches from a back corner in Liyue’s darkened alleyways, shaking his head sadly.

Gods, what has this world come to?

He would ask the Archons for help, but they’re the ones executing the Divine One right before his eyes, by their own hands, in one of their own cities. It’s a useless hope, one that would only get him killed.

Albedo looks away as the execution begins. Small gasps and screams come from your mouth, followed by the cracking of your bones (to this, he winces, closing his eyes tightly). The smell of burning meat makes his nose wrinkle and his expression turns grim. He does not want to be here, but he doesn’t have an option; he was requested (demanded) to accompany the Acting Grand Master to the City of Contracts.

“Perish, mimic.”

The shing of the Electro Archon’s signature killing blow reaches Albedo’s ears, and he tries to block out the noise of the sword delving deep into your chest, carving your heart out as a trophy.

But the collective gasp from the surrounding crowd catches his attention.

His gaze, formerly trained down to his feet, flicks over to view Ei’s sword retracted from your rib cage, your heart impaled firmly on the blade, golden blood and arteries and all the things you should never see of yourself hanging off and dripping down to the street tiles.

The Archons look shocked at their actions, and all Albedo can do is focus on your face, expression turning from hurt to stunned to smiling maniacally.

He hears your giggle echo throughout the silent streets.

“Oh well. Better luck next time. Or not.”

And then you (your body, your shell, your dead self) drop to the ground, blood pouring from the cavity in your chest. It’s gold and silver and star-splattered, so you and everything you represent, and all anyone can do is stare.

There’s a sudden frenzied panic, an uproar, the crowd going insane at your death. Baal, Barbatos and Morax all try to recover your lifeforce, but it’s already far, far too late. Your body begins to disintegrate like the fallen Hilichurls or slimes do, fading into ashes to be carried away on the mourning wind.

All that’s left is a stain. A stain of sins. A stain of those who wronged you.

Albedo merely chuckles.

“I can’t say I didn’t warn you,” he murmurs to Jean, who watches the final specks of you fly away. “But of course, why would you listen to me?”

“Albedo,” she tries, but he cuts her off.

“And it’s your fault,” the alchemist spits with venom, entirely uncharacteristic of him, “that The Divine One is dead.”

Albedo slumps in his chair, paper discarded to the side. He knows it’s only a matter of time until everything that’s happening catches up to him and his sister, and that hourglass is losing its sand far too quickly for his liking.

He’s running out of time.

When was the last time he got sleep? A full meal? Anything of sustenance, for that matter?

Sustenance…

The alchemist jumps up from where he sits, almost shouting from the idea that pops in his mind.

Them! What if he brought Them back? Obviously, They didn’t know who They were, so there has to be a world where They came from!

Of course. Why didn’t he think of this earlier? It was so obvious!

Albedo spins around and rushes out of the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, being met with a grey, dead sky, but he ignores it, feet pounding the ground as he races towards where a certain Anemo Archon-turned-bard normally resides.

The familiar green outfit greets Albedo’s eyes on top of Venti’s statue, right where he thought the bard would be. Albedo waves at Venti frantically, motioning for him to come down; he does, greeting the alchemist with a slightly less cheery hello than he would have nine months earlier.

“I have—an idea,” Albedo pants, trying to catch his breath, “but I need your help, along with Morax’s and Baal’s.”

“Why?” Venti asks, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the idea?”

“Just trust me.”

—

A week later, three of the Seven are gathered around the Geo alchemist, talking amongst themselves quietly.

A door opens, revealing Jean, Eula, Kaeya, Lisa, Diluc and little Klee, who looks much more sickly than she did a week ago. Still, she cradles Dodoco sweetly in her arms.

“Did you tell them yet?” Jean asks. Albedo shakes his head in response, to which the five adults that just entered the room look confused at.

“Tell us what?”

Diluc is the one who speaks, crossing his arms.

“This seems a little suspicious and very… deceptive of you Knights, more so than usual.”

“Would you shut up for once about the Knights?” Jean hisses at Diluc, a glare accompanying her words. “This isn’t about our damn rivalry. It’s about the whole of Teyvat.”

That shuts the wine tycoon up, but not without a harrumph and a cross of his arms, followed by him glaring at the floor.

“Fine. What is this plan?”

“As you know, the Divine One was executed—“ The Archons wince at this. “—around nine months ago, and as you also know, Teyvat has fallen into ruin because of it. I propose that we bring them back.”

“Necromancy? My, I never thought the Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius would be into that sort of thing,” Lisa says, flipping absentmindedly through her catalyst; instead of the Oathsworn Eye it normally would be, it’s a mere Apprentice’s Notes, but it still makes for a good light reading. “Still, do go on.”

“No, not necromancy. Otherworldly travel.”

That gets the witch’s attention, along with everyone else (sans Klee, who has fallen asleep, snoring softly).

“Other worlds?”

Kaeya this time. The Khaenri’ahn seems intrigued by the prospect, with being friends with the Traveler and all.

“Yes, other worlds. My theory is that They came from another world, hence why They didn’t know of the status that They held here, and also why no memories came to Their mind.” Albedo pauses to clear his throat. “I need a few witnesses to my little test, should it result in a catastrophic failure, or if it results in a success.”

The atmosphere of the room seems to shift a bit, hope returning into the eyes of the people within its confines.

So, with everyone seemingly on board, Albedo begins to explain the full extent of his plan and the process behind it, gesturing to the Seven while speaking. The gods look a bit scared in their own immortal way, but the same hope that filled the Knights’ (and Diluc’s) eyes begins to stand stony behind their gazes.

“You think there’s a chance that… we’ll be okay again?”

Ei’s voice is weak, a shock to all in the room but Albedo himself.

“Yes.”

“And if this doesn’t work?”

Kaeya.

Albedo stays silent at that.

“I need a sliver of your power from your Gnosis, each of you. Yes, I am aware that you no longer hold possession of them, but there is still a small bit of stored power left in your bodies. I need it.”

Venti’s eyes widen momentarily before settling back down, expression fading into determined confidence.

“And you.” Albedo turns to the Knights and Diluc. “I need a touch of your element, all of you. Barbara was kind enough to give me some of hers, and I already have the essence of a Dendro slime, so we don’t have to worry about that.”

“How is this going to work? Do you even have a plan?” Eula asks, leaning on her claymore.

Albedo sighs and pinches his nose at the demanding questions from the Spindrift Knight. Of course she of all people would be the one to question and potentially hinder his plan.

“Don’t ask questions.”

She grumbles but obliges, summoning a small Cryo blade; the others follow suit with their own element, solidifying it into reality before handing the essences over to the Chief Alchemist.

Albedo then turns to the Archons, who each hold an orb of their respective element in their palms. It glows brighter than the Vision wielders’ elements, but nonetheless, they are all beautiful.

“Let us begin.”

—

“Fuck!”

The mouse in your right hand slams down on the table when your computer freezes up for the third time today. Of course Microsoft’s software decides to be picky when you have a very important deadline looming right over your head. Why wouldn’t it?

“Come on, you stupid piece of shit, work!”

But alas, Word is still frozen in time, your computer’s fans kicking on to account for the additional strain on it.

You slump back in your chair with a loud huff. Great. Why wouldn’t your literally-just-bought computer work? Of course, it’s stupid piece of shit—

The monitor suddenly bluescreens and begins to glow really, really brightly, much brighter than it should.

“What the hell?”

The fans whir faster, spinning into overdrive, and the glow only gets brighter.

Is my computer going to blow up? Dammit, I’m out of here, I can just tell HR I need a tablet or something—

Just as you’re about to exit the room to complain toyour boss, everything goes dead silent.

Then an ‘oof’ comes from behind you, followed by three more thuds that sound suspiciously like something living hitting the ground.

“Your Grace?”

That voice…

You freeze in your tracks, not daring to look at who you swear to the gods you left behind in that hellscape. Memories flood your head, ones you tried to repress and thought you did so.

Apparently not.

“Your Grace…?”

A different voice this time, the one that sucked the air out of your lungs, and you sense a third and even a fourth presence behind you, slowly standing up and brushing themselves off.

You slowly turn around, facing the three Archons and Albedo himself, each looking extremely relieved to see you alive and well. Their faces display exhaustion, stress and sleeplessness; for what, you don’t know.

“Get away from me.”

The voice that comes from your lips is steady save for a small quaver in the underlying tone.

“Thank goodness you’re alive!” Ei exclaims, tears beginning to gather at the corners of her eyes. “You—we—“

“I said, get away from me.”

The Electro Archon freezes up at your tone, ceasing her slow approach to your figure, which, unbeknownst to them, is grabbing your phone and preparing to dial 9-1-1, also digging the small switchblade you always carry out of your pocket.

Those self-defense lessons and weapons training sessions? Yeah, you picked those up fourfold after the event happened.

Albedo tries to get closer to you, to which you flick the blade out, threatening to stab him if he gets any closer. The alchemist looks stunned at your willingness to potentially injure him, and stops in his tracks before you get a chance to.

“You are going to get away from me.”

“Your—“

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you spit with poisonous malice. “You lost that right when you executed me after hunting me down over all of fucking Teyvat, all because I shared the same damn face as your stupid fucking god.”

The other hand, the one holding your phone, holds down the home button to summon your assistant.

“Assistant, call 9-1-1–“

Venti makes a grab for the device, but it’s already dialed, and you’re running to the bathroom to lock the door.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“Hi, yes there are four strangers in my house that are saying I’m their god and are trying to kidnap me. Please send the cops!”

“What? C—ould you repeat that?” The line goes staticky for a moment, then returns to normal.

“Four strangers are in my house and are saying I’m their deity.” Your voice goes deadpan.

A bang comes from the locked door behind you, but you press back against it, checking that you still hold your blade tightly.

“Alright, we’re sending the police to your location. They’ll be there in about ten minutes, okay honey?”

“Okay, thank you.” A quaver shakes the underlying monotone of your voice.

“Can you stay on the line for me?”

“I can try—“

The bang that rattles the wood scares the shit out of you, and you feel the lock begin to jiggle.

Your phone suddenly shuts off, sparks coming from the charging port; frantically pressing the power button, you curse, dropping the now-useless device on the white tile. Guess it’s up to your little trusty knife to defend you now.

Until then, though, you have to stall for time.

Nine minutes.

“Please, Your Grace!” Venti begs, his voice muffled from the wooden barrier separating you two. “Teyvat is dying!”

“I don’t give a fuck!” you yell back, grunting as the door rattles hard again. “Where were you when I was dying? Oh, yeah, you’re the ones that KILLED ME!”

Eight minutes.

“The Abyss is getting worse!”

“I don’t fucking care! Fuck you! I’m not coming with you!”

“Please…”

Albedo speaks this time, who, unbeknownst to you, has begun to pick the doorknob’s lock silently, trying to get it open so that they can bring you back to Teyvat.

You laugh. “Blondie, I ain’t goin’ with ya just because you were nice to me. Go to hell!”

Seven damn minutes.

The lock rattles hard, unlocking; you panic and grab the knob, trying desperately to prevent it from turning and opening.

You’re successful in your endeavors, but look around for a weapon to defend yourself with that will give you a bit more range than the blade in your other hand. Alas, there is nothing (other than a toilet brush, but that’s flimsy plastic and will probably break if you so much as look at it for too long).

The doorknob turns more to the left.

Six minutes.

“Your Grace, please. Think reasonably.”

You snort at Zhongli’s words and the irony of the situation; him, one of your three murderers, trying to kidnap you, telling you to be reasonable.

Yeah. If that’s their ‘reasonable’, you’d rather be crazy in their eyes.

Five minutes. Dammit time, hurry up!

The seconds on the clock seem to taunt you relentlessly, tick-tick-ticking away at your sanity.

The door slams open, knocking you onto your back with a loud thump and a pained groan; you scramble to get your bearings, fumbling for your knife, which was knocked out of your hand when your head hit the ground. Dizzy, your eyes meet blonde hair and blue eyes reaching down to grab you.

In a panic, you kick your leg out, landing a hit to Albedo’s gut. He stumbles backwards, caught off guard for a moment, but regains his senses when Zhongli asks him if he’s okay.

“Please, Your—“

“Fuck off.”

The knife has returned to your hands. You glance up.

Four minutes.

You can already faintly hear the sirens closing in on your location; now it’s just a matter of frantically stalling for time.

“Your Grace, if you don’t cooperate with us, we will have to resort to… more unpleasant methods, and I really don’t want to.” It’s Zhongli who speaks this time, his voice hardening. “So, if you would kindly come with us, we will not have to use these methods.”

Geo essence begins to line under his eyes, reminding you that, even if he is retired, he’s still a damn Archon, even in your mortal world.

Three minutes.

“Time will not go by at all while you are gone, if that is what you’re worried about.”

“No!” You snap. “What I’m worried about is bein’ ripped right from my world into the hands of my goddamn murderers when I’m just recovering!”

You yank your shirt up, showcasing the death scar that stands out, white contrasting brightly against the rest of your skin, which is also marked with smaller, but no less traumatizing marks; lightning marrs your ribs, earth scars your arms, and the whipping of the wind left slashes against the bones of your hips.

“You fucking traumatized me, and all because I looked like your so-called ‘Divine One’. And, yet…” Your voice drops an octave, chuckling darkly. “—and yet, you expect me to forgive you, to allow myself to be dragged back into the world that is punishing you!”

Two minutes.

That’s the final straw for them; all of them (sans Albedo) have tears in their eyes, but apparently their sympathy isn’t enough to stop Venti from grabbing you and dragging you, kicking and screaming, into his arms, passing you over to Albedo. He strokes your hair as you sob loudly.

“You will be treated like the god you are.”

One minute.

“But…” you sniffle. “I don’t want to go back.”

“I know, dearest one.”

The world suddenly warps violently, and all you know is the void.

Adult stuff that Schools don't teach you, about work and dreaming

Aim for the stars, NEVER give up on your dreams. You just need to learn how to make it a reality. Our time here is finite, the end result is the same for everyone. So, tell fear to go to hell and do whatever makes you feel like it's worthwhile been alive.

Learn the most important skill ever: How to deal with difficult people. From minors inconveniences, to personality clashes, to narcissistic cunts with psychopathic tendencies who enjoys making everyone's life a living hell (mobbing). No school, college, university, trade school or whatever is gonna teach you this. IT WILL SAVE YOUR SANITY. Especially when you don't have the luxury of losing a job. So take advantage of some sweet internet and find resources about this. (Z Library is free and safe)

Expand your skill set. Don't stick with only one thing, learn practical and technical stuff related to your line of work. For example: In film school everyone wants to be a director or a writer, which is great but it takes time, in the meantime learning about editing, sound, lighting, props, wardrobe, etc, can open many other doors. This will pay your bills while you're dreaming. So, take your time to analyze what skills are useful in your work and learn.

Fuck the unpaid internship once graduated. It's slavery with pretty words. If you're still studying, you can (and should if you have time) participate in those unpaid projects, volunteer jobs, and all that; but never ever after getting your [title]. You are valuable, no matter what any company says, and you didn't spend countless hours of effort and sacrifice to not be paid. If you apply point number 3, you will gain experience while also getting money. No amount of experience is worthy. It's like influencers wanting to pay with exposure.

Networking, 90% of the time it's not about your talent but who you know, no matter what kind of job you are doing. And I'm not necessarily talking about nepotism. Sometimes if you know a person they can say: "Oh yes, Clara is a friend and she's excellent at her job. You should consider her." Humans are social creatures, we value the opinions of those who we are friends with or respect. Don't be fake, just be nice and try to get to know your coworkers and people from your field. (There are also books about this if socializing isn't your forte)

(Feel free to reblog and add more stuff. We all know we need this 💀)

masterlist ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

new masterlist !

please read my rules before reading or requesting 💗

ellie williams one shots ୨♡୧

♡ spoiled (part one)

♡ don't cross the line (nsfw) ♡ the space between us (nsfw) ♡ oops! (nsfw) ♡ a helping hand (ellie x reader x dina, nsfw) ♡ pretty when you cry (nsfw) ♡ blueberry pie (nsfw)

♡ moonflower (nsfw, fluff)

series ୨♡୧ ♡ not about love: part one (sfw) ♡ not about love: part two (nsfw) ♡ not about love: part three (sfw) ♡ not about love: part four (nsfw)

drabbles & blurbs & hc’s ୨♡୧ ♡ gf with plushies (hc's, nsfw) ♡ certified tits lover ellie (nsfw) ♡ guiding you through it (blurb, nsfw) ♡ worship (drabble, nsfw)

♡ at your service (drabble, nsfw) ♡ x abby (blurb, nsfw) ♡ eating you through (blurb, nsfw) ♡ mean brothers best friend (hq's, nsfw) ♡ color me (drabble, nsfw) ♡ loser lesbian ellie (blurb, nsfw) ♡ attention (drabble, nsfw) ♡ mommy kink (blurb, nsfw) ♡ ellie being ellie (blurb, sfw) ♡ finally (blurb, nsfw) ♡ breeding kink (blurb, nsfw) ♡ kissing ur tummy (blurb-ish, nsfw) ♡ just a lick (blurb, nsfw) ♡ sleepover w dina (blurb, nsfw) ♡ bikini tops (blurb, nsfw) ♡ netflix nights (drabble, nsfw) ♡ spit kink (blurb, nsfw) ♡ ellie and her boxers (blurb, nsfw) ♡ game over (mean brothers bff drabble, nsfw) ♡ sexting with ellie (texts, nsfw) ♡ soccer!ellie x cheerleader!reader (hc’s, nsfw) ♡ caught (drabble, nsfw) ♡ mall with els (hc's fluff & a little smut)

♡ degrading you for the first time (drabble, nsfw)

♡ gf with plushies pt 2 (drabble)

♡ bbf!ellie — plum (blurb, nsfw)

♡ painkiller (short drabble, nsfw)

♡ knight!ellie (drabble)

♡ training wheels (drabble, nsfw)

♡ breeding kink blurb

♡ jealous (drabble, nsfw)

audios ୨♡୧ ♡ number one (nsfw) ♡ number two (nsfw) ♡ number three (nsfw)

abby anderson one shots ୨♡୧ ♡ to new beginnings (one shot, nsfw) ♡ baby blue (one shot, nsfw) ♡ anything but me: part 1 (nsfw)

drabbles & blurbs & hc’s ୨♡୧ ♡ too tight (nsfw) ♡ x reader x ellie (nsfw) ♡ gf with plushies (hc’s sfw+nsfw) ♡ movie night with ellie x reader (blurb, nsfw) ♡ shoving her fingers in your mouth (blurb, nsfw)

♡ dbf! abby (blurb, nsfw)

♡ dbf!abby (drabble, nsfw-ish)

audios ୨♡୧ ♡ number one (nsfw)

𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 [𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎]

synopsis: they ignore you after an argument

characters: childe, ayato x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationships, mentions of injuries/ burns in childe’s

notes: since the other one did so well, i decided to make a part two. i was originally going to add dainsleif but these were both over 1k words each, so if i do another part he’ll probably be in it

part 1 (scaramouche, yelan), part three (xiao and heizou)

Childe:

You and Childe had been dating for quite awhile and were friends for even longer before you made it official.

And while you weren’t a part of the Fatui, you respected his work and stayed out of it…for the most part, anyway.

Recently, he had been coming home more and more injured each night and you were growing increasingly worried about him and his job. You loved and respected him, but you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t getting upset about his work.

When you finally brought your worries up to him, he blew up on you telling you things like “You need to stay out of my work life,” “What happens to me doesn’t concern you,” and “You could never understand.”

Admittedly, it probably wasn’t the best time seeing as he had just had a really rough week, but you knew it was better sooner than later. The last thing you wanted was for your boyfriend to leave for work one day and not come back home because he got killed.

After a long period of yelling back and forth and getting no where with each other, he stormed out of your shared home without a word and left you standing alone in your house.

Whenever you and Childe had an argument, it wasn’t uncommon for him to go out and train or practice sparring to blow off some steam. So, you let him do his thing and decided that he would probably just come back later and you guys could talk it out like the responsible adults you were.

Much to your dismay, Childe never did return and apologize like he normally would. Because, while he did come back, he didn’t utter a word to you. He merely brushed you off when you asked if you could talk to him and went into your shared bedroom and locked the door. Of course, you had tried knocking a few times to see if he would come out, but it was to no avail.

This went on for the following few days as well.

He would come home and hang his stuff up and then return to his work or to train outside, not even sparing you a glance. Even when you tried to talk to him, he would just stare ahead with a smug smile on his face as if he was mocking you.

Though, it eventually became crystal clear that he was, in fact, mocking and ignoring you. When you made dinner, he would push it away and cook his own. When you would try to snuggle up to him at night because it was too cold, he’d lightly push you off and scoot closer to his own side of the bed.

Even when you had a rough day and wanted nothing more than to have him hold you, he would return that same smug smile and ignore you. And if you tried to talk to him, he would make sure your shoulders bumped as he walked past you to really rub in the fact that he wasn’t going to listen to you.

Today in particular, you were becoming quite frustrated with him. When you had woken up, he was getting ready for work. He even made sure to flash his bandages at you since he knew how worked up you had gotten about them. You even saw the way he nearly laughed at your frown. But all you did was shove down your anger and turn away from him.

Instead, you decided to go pick up groceries for the week and run a few other errands to de-stress. And when you returned home, you decided you would make yourself your favorite food. It’s not like Childe liked it anyway, so there was at least one bonus to him not eating your food.

You put away your groceries and got to cooking. It was going pretty well, though the thought of your argument was still lingering in the back of your mind. Somewhere amidst your cooking, Childe had returned home which brought the argument to the forefront of your mind.

How long was he going to continue ignoring you? It’s not like the argument was your fault anyway. No one could blame you for looking out for your boyfriend’s safety, after all, it was out of love.

Suddenly, a painful burning sensation spread across your hand and a loud scream escaped your mouth followed by a string of curses. The tears that had been unknowingly building up in your eyes had now escaped and flowed down your face as you grasped your hand tightly.

At some point when you were lost in thought, you had accidentally grabbed the burning hot handle of a metal pan and burned your hand. You didn’t even notice the worried Childe now bent down on the floor in front of you asking what happened.

He gently grabbed your arm and pulled you up to the sink, turning on some cold water and carefully placing your hand underneath it before rushing off to find some first aid supplies. Once your crying had ceased and your hand was taken care of, he sat you down on the couch while he grabbed you some water.

He glanced around the room as you downed your water, now feeling quite awkward at the silence, contrary to how he was acting the rest of the week. You sat the cup of water down and stared down at your bandaged up hand and away from his gaze.

You gulped down your nervousness before softly speaking, “Are you done ignoring me now?”

Though he should’ve felt it days ago, guilt rushed over Childe and he snapped his eyes toward your own with a sad look in his eyes. A sadness you felt he had no right to feel.

He opened his mouth to respond but closed it just as quick, blanking on what to say to you. He didn’t have an explanation for what he did and wasn’t sure how he could make it up to you.

You shoulders dropped and you huffed out a sigh before getting up and turning to go to your room, “Nevermind, it was pointless to ask.”

Childe stood up quickly, nearly falling over at the sound of your dejected voice, “Y/n! Wait, I-”

He grabbed your shoulder and gently turned you around, quickly embracing you in a tight hug, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you like I did and I shouldn’t have waited till you got hurt to stop it. Please forgive me, y/n, I’m so sorry.”

You returned his embrace but pulled back to look at him, too tired to argue with him, you spoke, “Why don’t you help me finish cooking and then we can talk over dinner?”

He nodded with a warm smile. Childe was never good at apologizing, you knew that well. Yet, you couldn’t help the way your heart warmed at the way he tried for you.

Ayato:

Ayato and you had been together for a long time, having both been prominent figures in Inazuma. Naturally, the two of you got along well and eventually began dating.

You shared a similar nature of hardwork that often resulted in overworking yourself, and because of that, you guys made it a rule to keep each other in check and take care of one another.

Recently, however, Ayato was overworking himself again with marital affairs and some international stuff. So, you decided to check up on him and try to get him to take a break, even if it was just for an hour or two.

But contrary to how he would normally react, he lashed out at you and called you overbearing and annoying. He even told you that you checking up on him the way you do makes him feel even more stressed.

Stunned at his words, you silently hid your tears and trembling lip as you hurried out of his office to leave him alone.

It had only been a day since your argument, yet, Ayato was still locked up in his office. You were too nervous to knock on the door or even see him, so you tried your best to avoid him for a bit. Though, that obviously couldn’t last forever.

Your first encounter was at breakfast.

Thoma had made a big and delicious breakfast for all of you to enjoy and you were hoping it was going to give you the chance to talk to him. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t talk to you. Instead, he spoke to Ayaka the entire time and even had Thoma join you guys.

When you had asked for him to pass you the teapot, he simply side-eyed you and acted like he didn’t hear you. Ayaka and Thoma were quick to glance between the two of you with puzzled expressions. Luckily, Thoma was nice enough to grab it for you to avoid the awkwardness.

For the remainder of breakfast, you kept to yourself and ate in silence, not even looking up at everyone else.

Your next encounter with him was when you were passing by him in one of the main areas of the Estate. You had been carrying a stack of papers to bring to Ayaka when you had tripped and dropped them, allowing them to scatter across the floor.

Ayato had been walking out of his room at the same time only to witness the entire thing happen.

Normally, he would be quick to get on his own knees and help you gather the sheets of paper and make sure you were okay. However, since he was seemingly ignoring you, he merely stopped to stare down at you before walking past you and around the papers.

You just sighed and continued picking them up as he walked past, wondering why he was acting like this.

The final encounter was the same night when you guys had guests over for business. There were around ten to fifteen of them, and they weren’t people you had met before.

Usually, Ayato would have you standing close to him with an arm around your waist or have his own arm linked with yours, but tonight there was a rather unusual distance placed between the two of you. You were sure even the guests could see it.

Regardless, you tried your best to appear normal with a bright smile on your face and politely answering any questions. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help the fidgeting of your hands or the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. You just hoped the guests couldn’t see it.

It felt like they were going to be there forever as you sat distanced from Ayato. While you pretended to be paying attention to what they were saying with the occasional nod or smile, you were really just lost in thought over how to fix whatever it was that was going on between you and your boyfriend.

He was barely even acknowledging you, and it almost seemed like you weren’t even there. You didn’t even look like his partner.

Having had enough, you got up to excuse yourself to use the restroom. But on your return back to the room, you had stopped as you heard two of guests, who you recognized as being an older husband and wife, gossiping to themselves in hushed voices.

“Archons, have you seen Lord Ayato’s s/o? They don’t even look like they should be with him!” The man laughed, his wife quick to join in.

“I agree, at least it’s obvious he’s not that interested in them anyway. I give it a good few weeks before he finally breaks up with them and he marries someone actually worth his time.”

You clenched your fists and attempted to stop the tears from falling from your eyes as they continued to talk. You, on the other hand, turned around and rushed to your and Ayato’s shared bedroom.

After what you had just heard, you couldn’t be bothered to stick around for the rest of the night, especially with the new found thought of Ayato breaking up with you now plaguing your mind.

—

When twenty minutes had passed, Ayato had begun to get suspicious of where you were. Sure, he was supposed to be ignoring you, but you didn’t normally take this long and he was worried. After all, he was still your boyfriend.

His eyes darted around the room at all the guests while his mind was beginning to fill with ideas of how to kick the guests out without it becoming obvious he wanted them gone.

He gulped down his thoughts and stood up out of his seat and fixing his attire before pretending to look at what time it was on the clock, “Ah, I do sincerely apologize, but it is getting quite late. Perhaps, we can all meet another time?”

The guests looked toward the clock as well before agreeing with him and grabbing their coats and other belongings. A fake smile remained plastered on Ayato’s face as he walked the guests out and bid them a goodnight.

As soon as they were gone, his nonchalant facade dropped and he was quick to rush back inside to search for you. When he couldn’t find you anywhere, he hurried to check your shared bedroom.

When he had slid open the door, he found you curled up on the bed under the covers and lightly sniffling to yourself. Alarmed at the sight, he rushed to your side and bent down to meet your face.

You were quick to cover your face with the covers and turn over to the other side, not wanting to face him. Ayato’s shoulders dropped as he let out a sigh and walked over to the other side and sat down next to you.

Carefully removing the glove off of his hand, he gently grabbed the covers and pulled them down to see your face, “Y/n, please look at me…”

Finally looking him in the eyes, he was able to inspect your tear stained face. His heart broke at the sight and he moved closer to you, but you moved back, “What do you want, Ayato?”

“What happened?” he whispered.

“What happened is you’ve been ignoring me all day. You wouldn’t even look at me! You ignored me at breakfast, you ignored me in when I dropped those papers, and you ignored me when those guests were here!” you took a breath before staring down at the bed, “And the guests…the guests-”

“The guests..what? What did they do?”

You stared down at your hands with blurred eyes, “I heard them talking about us when I came back from the bathroom. They…they said that you were going to break up with me and that I wasn’t worthy of you.”

Ayato was quick to wrap his arms around you and bring you closer to him, “Don’t listen to them. They don’t know what they’re talking about, they don’t even understand business! I love you, y/n, and I’m sorry for ignoring you like I did. It was childish and it went too far. I didn’t mean anything I said to you, I don’t think you’re annoying or overbearing, so please don’t listen to any of that or think that you aren’t worthy of me.”

“So…you aren’t going to break up with me?”

“Archons, no. I’m never going to leave you, y/n,” Ayato reassured you, “Now, c’mon, let’s go to bed and we can talk more in the morning.”

GOJO SATORU / F!READER KEEP STILL (19+)

SYNOPSIS

Internationally revered artist Y/N has been invited to paint the Crown Prince, Gojo Satoru.

CONTAINS

explicit content [minors/ageless blogs do not interact], royal au, prince!satoru, artist!reader, (forced?) voyeurism, masturbation, multiple orgasms, face riding, oral (f+m), overstimulation, exhibitionism (?), cum play, choking, squirting, facial, degradation, ooc satoru is a brat…

word count: 12.4k+ note: satoru has ZERO shame. srry i kinda went overboard w this . okay enjoy / also i just changed the layout lol

“…you have been invited to paint the Crown Prince, Gojo Satoru—” 

“Crown Prince?”

The trickles of liquid being poured into glasses ends with a foolish clatter, hands clambering to collect them as they tip over. Dusk arrives, a peaceful ambience accompanied with light crackles of your fireplace. With the belief that it would be a simple, quaint evening, you hadn’t prepared yourself for the news that would arrive at your doorstep. The sound of his name makes your ears scorch, overwhelming news that could put you in cardiac arrest if you weren’t so stubborn about appearing composed. The invitation sent in the form of a white card, sealed with a golden stamp, weighs heavy on your heart—a bizarre combination of stress and elation running through you, until your ears have finally made sense of your friend’s words.

You’ve painted many important individuals—internationally revered and demanded by numerous pretentious, rich assholes, so it should come across as a normal invitation to you, but it was anything but that. It felt more like a leap than a step forward, an endgame to your years of hard work, knowing that a royal had been eyeing your work, wanting you to perceive him. Ironically, you had just come back from exploring the world, attending the showiest parties and exhibitions, displaying yourself for demand and being invited by opulent guests that had implored you to paint them from across the sea.

Why wouldn’t they? Even your most unassuming subjects were enamoured with your work, posing to perfection, and keeping as still as they could because they know you can portray them the best.

From your work alone, you have a long list of subjects waiting to be painted by you, quietly observing in awe as you hone your craft. Painting the Crown Prince was long overdue. Though you had a problem—your passion wavered. The demand wore you out, how much time and passion you were willing to put into your work has kept you bed-ridden and drained of inspiration, mostly relying on commissions personally made by your clients. It’s noticeable by the lack of pieces you were putting out—the name you’ve made yourself hanging by a thin thread. Still, despite your insecurities, you couldn’t pass up on this opportunity because of a cluster of reasons—sitting on top laid one.

The Crown Prince is a sight to behold. His white hair resembling wispy clouds falls delicately on his forehead, smooth skin that anyone could mistake for porcelain if they’re not too careful, and blue eyes that held the seas and skies entirely.

You’ve only been able to observe him from afar; the mere sight of the prince being too much a phenomenon to let you get any closer. His presence alone is a rare occurrence. No one really knows why, but it only makes him the embodiment of mystery, trivial rumours are not good enough to gather what kind of person he might be, and it only makes you even more curious. Whenever he is seen, it’s only ever accompanied by some sort of ball or parade dedicated to him and his family. 

Merely visiting a friend, your first sighting had been on a balcony overlooking the marketplace, and the royal family’s return from their short retreat required an audience. The sizable fields were empty, but the streets were congregated with residents, white confetti falling dreamily on their carriages and horses.

You weren’t actually interested in the royals, forced to engage in the proprieties by your friend, staring into blank space and slumped against the balcony with your chin resting on your hand, sighing when the cheers became deafeningly louder.

Then you saw him peak through the obscurity of his carriage, nudging velvet curtains to the side to look at the crowd. No one could miss the collective gasps that fell from the mouths of the residents—a stunned silence took the section that was greeted by his face, staring in awe of the prince. He looked slightly taken aback by the reception, gazing upon the unmoving crowd with an unreadable expression, never gesturing with a smile or a wave.

You were guilty of it too—the grip of your fingers loosening from the balcony, your lips parting in discreet shock as you marvel at the sight of the prince, wondering how someone could even look like that. Almost engrossed, you fixated on remembering every feature, absorbing the memory so you could somehow translate it onto paper. 

It's unfortunately short-lived when he closes the curtain.

Now you’re going to see him again—no—paint him. Perhaps, in some dramatic, life-changing way, Gojo Satoru could revive your passion. In fact, you’re sure of it—the one sighting of him became a plethora of false memories you made up in your head, imagining the way he’d look in all of your pieces and that desire to make him the purpose of all your paintings was probably the reason beneath that void in your heart, it’d only make sense for him to fill it.

“The prince—I can’t believe it.” Your friend says in awe, nimbly taking one of the glasses you prepared for the both of you. She goes on to ramble about what you’ll wear, how you’ll greet him, and the most pressing question of them all: how on earth were you going to paint him? It only makes you anxious.

What if he hates it?

“I guess I’ll have to figure that out.” You sigh, the insistent thoughts sending a chill down on your spine. Self-doubt can't get the best of you just yet, reminding yourself that it’s your hard work that’s put you here, so to paint the Crown Prince, you couldn’t have imagined anything better.

The drawing room is clean—awfully clean, resembling every other royal room you came across as you toured around the palace, admiring the grandeur and spotlessness that brushed every corner of each room. There is some sort of expectancy to see messiness accompany the drawing room, knowing that the royals could not go a day without having their portraits painted and possibly spent most of their time sitting on that chair if they weren’t hosting some sort of inessential ball to showcase their endless opulence.

Your eyes first land on the wooden stool that sits in front of an easel holding a large blank canvas, beneath and beside it is art equipment meant for your usage—oil paint, palettes, and numerous paintbrushes, all ready for you.

As you saunter further into the drawing room, your eyes are greeted with a couch—one of splendour, encased in gold and embroidered floral patterns sewed onto the seats, cushions and backrest, a velvet sheet loosely falls on top of it. Oddly enough, you expected a simple chair.

Behind it is the Great painting, the regular backdrop used for most of the royals’ paintings, though there is nothing truly regular about it, having been made by one of your favourite artists. To see it in person has you gaping like a fool. Entranced by the large piece that spans across the entire wall, a sensation building up in a chest that awfully resembles the feeling of someone twisting your heart in their hand, promising yourself that you’d make something like this one day and it’ll be your backdrop that every snobbish individual of prestige will want.

So, when the faint chatter and shuffling footsteps progressively becomes louder, your ears unconsciously tune out the sound, engrossed so deeply in the painting that you’re unaware of the people that have entered the room. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A gruff voice suddenly rips you from your reverie, causing you to stupidly stumble on your own feet, only just noticing the presence next to you. It’s not him—not the prince, but a man almost as intimidating as him (almost…just almost) and you waver under his stoic gaze.

“Yes, it’s really beautiful,” you mindlessly say, cursing under your breath as your wavering confidence makes itself obvious. Respectably gesturing at him, an urge to conceal your expression from him begins to hurt your cheeks, an eager smile itching to spread across your face. He awkwardly clears his throat when you perform such a profound gesture. The shadow of his figure keeps you grounded on your curling toes, pondering on the prince’s whereabouts. If he’s here, then the prince must close, right? 

When you look back up, your eyes suddenly peer at the white hair that peaks from the man’s shoulder, gradually making himself known when he finally stands beside him. 

Oh. 

Tall and broad, the prince towers over you, surpassing the man next to him in height, and looks down at you with the same unreadable look that started this voyage of curiosity. You hope he misses the way your breath hitches in your throat, the figure next to him becoming hazy when you stare at the prince, all of the admiration you have towards him washes over you tenfold, the closeness accentuating his features in ways you couldn’t have imagined. His eyes are so…blue.

How on earth are you supposed to capture his beauty in a painting? You can’t even remotely describe what you’re looking at, overawed and overwhelmed, you almost forget to greet him. So, when you do, it’s in a state of a momentary panic, feeling as though you just committed treason for doing it a second later and your frantic actions earns a raised eyebrow, clearly amused by your uneasiness.

“Nanami, this is my painter for today?” He asks, tilting his head to the man now known as Nanami, who doesn’t seem fazed by the likes of Gojo Satoru. His voice is perfect too, you think. You wonder what he must be like behind closed doors, how Nanami must either endure or indulge in the prince’s company, what kind of conversations they might have, if he’s even likeable to begin with.

Nanami nods, the dullness in his facial expression making it hard to read the room, especially when a mischievous glint washes over the prince’s eyes as he turns his head, rendering you speechless once he unexpectedly closes the space between you. The exasperation from his shoulder only shows that the prince’s forwardness is something to expect, though you had never imagined that he’d be this… bold.

Satoru (…felt like you were committing treason for even saying his name in your head) leans forward, bending down to face you at eye-level, hovering so closely that it makes you even more nervous, so you briefly turn to Nanami in hopes that he could explain this unusual interaction. He doesn’t offer you comforting reassurance, so you look back at Satoru, taking a deep breath as you stare in his eyes.

It’s as if he holds the entire earth in them, an unusual pattern of various blue shades that swirled in his eyes, an instrument of hypnosis. He finally decides to break the silence, indulging well enough in your nervousness. His formalities are short and it’s obvious he doesn’t like wasting time. “I’m the Crown Prince, Gojo Satoru. Nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are, I mean—” you stutter thoughtlessly, “…I’m Y/N L/N.”

“I would be surprised if you didn’t, Y/N.” He responds, a faux frown appearing on his face. It feels undeserving to have your name come out of his mouth, but it hails your ears like a symphony. But, despite his regal nature and otherworldly appearance, something about him cries bad news, a ball of uneasiness rising in the pit of your stomach telling you that he’s up to no good.

What an odd feeling—you’re not sure where it’s coming from. 

You almost forget to tell him how grateful you are, though it’s not quite like you to shower someone with such compliments, given your absence of care for the royal family. “I want to thank you for this opportunity. It’s an honour just being in your presence.”

“Of course, I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s about time I met the revered painter.” He says, weighing you down with his gaze. You wonder how he’s heard about you, strangely caring about how he perceives you. 

Your heartbeat won’t slow down. “Well, I’m glad you think that of me. I’m certain that I can provide the best piece for you.”

His smirk grows, sensing your wavering confidence and relishing in your need to make the best impression. He’s practically anchoring you to the floor with his eyes. “I’m sure you will.”

Nanami sighs, breaking the odd tension that settles between the two of you, “…would you like me to oversee the first session?”

“No need.” Satoru quickly interjects, smiling passively as he continues to stare down at you. You could shrivel up into a ball right now with how intense his gaze is, an invisible force weighing you down as the fireplace crackles behind you. “The world’s renowned painter doesn’t need anyone breathing down her neck, right?”

Nanami sighs again, rolling his eyes. The two men await your response, and now you border between needing his presence because of Satoru’s peculiar nature and agreeing with Satoru because…he’s the Crown Prince. You mindfully choose the latter, fearing that you’d only make him unhappy by going against something that sounded more like his request, than your own. 

“Please leave, Nanami.” Satoru abruptly stresses, clearly bothered by your inability to quickly answer him. He hastily turns to Nanami, placing a lingering glance on him.

“The session will end at sundown. I’ll make preparations for your departure, so don’t worry about that.” Nanami concludes, slowly walking towards the door.

Luckily, it’s a summer afternoon, so while the skies were still bright, offering the room a mix of white and golden hues, you’d be able to pinpoint every single one of his features. Though, it means that you’re incredibly aware of Satoru’s expressions, who seems awfully eager to get Nanami out of the room and won’t stop staring at you.

When he leaves, the large doors softly shut with a thud and now the air suddenly feels tighter, the crackling of the fireplace gets louder and you’re sure Satoru can hear the force of your beating heart. “So, shall we begin?”

Your nerves keep you cemented to the floor, but his sudden suggestion snaps you out of your trance.

“Yes. Please, sit on the couch.” You faint-heartedly respond, gesturing for him to follow you to the couch. You’re suddenly immersed in finding the best position to put him in, wondering if the velvet sheet is a deliberate prop meant for you, but the initiative is taken by Satoru, who rests his back carelessly on the couch. Confused by his sudden action, he disrupts your train of thought.

“I’d like a painting where I’m lying down against this couch, something a little extravagant,” he says mockingly, savouring your surprised expression.

You’ve painted many things, a lot of them consisting of people with many poses and props, but you assumed that this regal painting would only entail of a simple portrait of him sitting up, and staring. You’re not sure if this idea was even approved by anyone. This is your first meeting with the prince and yet you can’t trust a single word that comes out of his mouth. Adorned by his face, you almost didn’t notice what he was wearing—a simple white blouse and black pants, something that would normally be used as an underdress for regal wearing. Suppose this is more of a personal painting.  

“Is that a problem, Y/N?” He asks, gouging out your expression.

“No, we can do that.” You respond, grimacing at the thought of this session already being controlled by him. There’s a reason why you never really cared for the royals—this is one of them. “Okay, you can rest your arm and back on the armrest, lift your legs up and look towards me.” When he follows your words, as you slowly walk backwards to envision the appropriateness of his pose, he gets it exactly right.

“Like this?”

“Yes, perfect,” you nod, adjusting the velvet sheet to loosely cover the opposite end of the couch. The vision was settling in, a perfect picturesque that truly showcased his allure and so you hurriedly make your way to the canvas, plopping down and begin observing his proportions. Your eyes scan his body, noticing his slender legs, broad chest and wide shoulders—even his proportions felt designed. 

Satoru surprisingly doesn’t speak when you’re firming his proportions and perception onto paper, letting you immerse yourself into work as his gaze never wavers. The canvas isn’t transparent but even in the split seconds when you’re hiding behind it, you can still feel his blue eyes pierce through the paper, turning your nimble fingers to trembling ones and even the open window can’t prevent your body from overheating. It’s not supposed to be intimate—you’ve never been compelled to feel anything for someone you’re painting, too engrossed in creation and much too concentrated on who they are on paper, than in real life. 

He’s jerking his leg against the couch, and it’s distracting. “Could you keep still, please?” You ask politely, hoping that he doesn’t take offence to it.

Thankfully, he doesn’t.

You’re not sure why you even asked—the slight movement shouldn’t be a cause for concern, but there’s something about this entire situation that’s pestering you. This is a strictly professional job that your precarious future depends on and yet it's far from that, it’s personal. He’s making it personal. Perhaps, it’s just overthinking—the prince is idolised by everyone, having a charm that only a few can attain, and he’s probably used it to his advantage many times.

This is all in your head, a momentary lapse of judgement that is clouded by your enduring admiration for him. Or at least, that’s what you try to tell yourself. Despite your inner conflict, you remain professional. Your concentrated expression never fluctuates, and you focus on getting his proportions right, hastily looking away whenever you accidentally meet his gaze. It’s unnerving, as if he’s refusing to blink, gradually breaking you down with his stare, until you turn to stone. When you finally finish the outline of your piece, your main focus is finding the right scenic feeling for him, slowly gazing upon the backdrop that accentuates his otherworldly features.

“So focused…” Satoru unexpectedly states, ending your trance and pressing you to pay attention to him. 

“I’m just really passionate,” you respond, practically lying through your teeth—it’s a partial lie, somewhat regaining some of the passion you lost in these few lingering moments. 

“Hm. Do you normally shake your legs that fast when you lie?” He observes, gazing down at the way you subconsciously shake your knee in a frantic manner, jittering against the wooden stool. You don’t realise how much noise you’re making, abruptly stopping your legs when he points it out. It unnerves you but Satoru is still a stranger—how could he even come to that conclusion?

“I’m not lying.” You mutter.

“I don’t know, do you always look at your subjects like that?” He asks, a playful smile etching across his face as you shuffle uncomfortably against his gaze. You decide to play dumb, feigning confusion and hoping he’d take your silence as an answer. He doesn’t, sighing heavily as his head slumps against the armrest.

What exactly are you supposed to say? How are you looking at him? The silence becomes unbearable, every millisecond becomes a long list of possible ways that you could be seeing him—how he sees you.

Your curiosity breaks your resolve, asking the poised man coyly. “How do I look at you?”

When you ask, he turns his head towards you, a smile insinuating that he’s won something—the next few words that come out of his mouth are much more definitive in that case. “Like you want to undress me.”

A moment of surprise stills on you, the forwardness of his accusation making you uncomfortable. “That’s quite the assumption.”

“Is it?” He persists, raising an eyebrow at your statement. “Don’t be shy, I don’t mind.”

You don’t know how to respond, he’s flirting with you—intentionally making you flustered, and there’s an urge to just pack your things and leave. You couldn’t find yourself tied with someone worlds apart from you. Though, only twenty minutes have passed, and you still have much longer to go. You can’t deal with him crossing numerous lines like this, especially when he’ll always have the upper hand. 

“I’d like to continue this painting.” You respond, attempting to change the topic. 

Amused, he huffs, suddenly sitting up. “Do you? I’ll undress if you’d like.”

You breathe heavily. Perhaps, in a completely different setting, you wouldn’t be so willing to deny him but you’re in his home, a place you don’t belong—it doesn’t make sense to let yourself go so easily. “That’s not really appropriate.”

“What’s inappropriate is your gaze.” He retorts. How can a stranger read you so easily?

“I’m painting you, that's kind of the point.” You retort.

Satoru is a charming man, but he’s also someone that gets easily impatient. He admires your composure, understanding that you’re harder to deal with than all of his other toys.

“I’ve been painted enough to know the difference between concentration and desire. Do you want to fuck me?” He bluntly asks, looking bothered by your ignorance. Maybe he was making it up. Maybe, just maybe, it was true. 

You’re speechless. The audacity of this man. “We should continue the session, please lie back down.”

“You’re not denying it.” He says playfully, standing up.

“I don’t. There, I denied it. Please lie back down.”

“Your knees are shaking again.”

You lie again. “I do this all the time.”

“Admit it.” He says, slowly walking towards you. A blockage sits in your throat, gazing upon the towering man devouring you with his eyes. When he finally closes the space, he bends down, just as he did earlier, except his lips are almost brushing against yours—close, but not close enough to kiss you. Your eyes momentarily flick to the pink of his lips, almost feeding into your subdued desire and yearning for what his lips might feel like against yours.

“I don’t.” You whisper, trying to resolve your harboured breathing. It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself now.

“Will you tell the truth if I admit that I like it?”

Fuck. 

An ache builds up between your legs. He’s just teasing you—why are you feeling like this? “I—…I can’t.” He almost breaks when he hears you stutter.

“So, it’s I don’t first, now it’s I can’t…which is it, Y/N? Sounds like you’re fighting with yourself.” He asks, the tilt of his head implying that he’s sympathetic and it’s annoying, making a mockery of your nervousness. “Say what’s on your mind.” 

You recover your composure, straightening your back and your nonchalant expression refuses to falter. Though, your voice almost gives you away. “Lie down.”

“Only if you’ll follow me.”

Now, you’re visibly annoyed, glowering at him. “Then this session cannot continue.”

“Why? Am I too out of reach?” He says, relishing in teasing you. A moment passes, Satoru realising that you’re not backing down. 

“Let me guess. You like to play with unassuming visitors like little toys right? Do you fuck anyone that walks through this palace?” You say vehemently, trying to dimmer your heavy heart from controlling your feelings. His eyes widen, the glint in his eye is almost…playful, elated that you’d say such a thing to a man like him—it terrifies you. He’s insane. 

“I don’t know, do they all have such wandering eyes?” He teases, hooking his hands to the underside of the stool, closely hovering over you with comfort. It startles you, and your mind doesn’t process the backless nature of the stool when you try to create some distance. You almost fall back but the prince is hasty enough to catch you. He roughly brings you closer to him. 

“I wouldn’t know.” You faintly whisper, falling into his eyes again. “Please—let’s not do this right now.”

“Then, I’ll lie back down.”

“Thank you.” For a few moments, he stares into your eyes, observing carefully. He doesn’t really plan on listening to you. 

“Only if you promise to watch me.” He says, a wave of inspiration washing over him. 

He really is up to no good. 

“What?”

He sends another ingenuine smile before walking back to the couch. Briefly, hiding into the large canvas to pick up your paintbrush again, you tune into the loud shuffling, a relaxed groan escaping his lips when he slumps against the couch again. As you revert to your old task, you look back up to see his shirt is gone. Your eyes subconsciously scan his body, in awe, but utterly shocked at the turn of events. Your shock worsens when he unzips his pants, causing you to hide behind the canvas again. 

You don’t peek from the canvas, refusing to believe the possible sight in front of you but there’s some more shuffling, and then faint lewd noises that reverberate in the drawing room. Was he? As if you couldn’t be any more surprised, you overhear the impossible, a noise you never thought you’d live to see, even if you wanted to—he’s moaning. The ache returns, and it washes over you tenfold, like a wave compared to a tsunami and no matter how hard you try to tune out his lewd moans, it only gets louder, until he’s ringing in your ears. The Crown Prince is touching himself and he wants you to watch.

You muster up the courage, continually convincing yourself that this is just a dream—you’re not actually hearing the prince moan, he’s not actually touching himself right—no, no, none of this is real, it’s just a figment of your imagination. That curiosity, the persistent one solely dedicated to Gojo Satoru returns, and now the ache speaks for you, telling you to look, to confirm your lingering thoughts. It’s an impulsive thought and while a part of you is convinced that nothing about this is right, the other part…well, she wants to look. Just one look. So, when you eventually peak to the side, a sight beholds you.

He is. The obscene sight of Satoru relishing in his own pleasure, eyes fluttering closed while he fists his cock in his hand, arching against the pillows. Your drifting eyes can’t help but follow his movement, the lewd sounds that come with it and how pretty he looks. He doesn’t notice you looking, completely and utterly immersed in bringing himself to his own climax, and when you finally come down from your state of disbelief, realising what you’re watching, you get an even more indecent response.

“My Prince…”

A faint, beautiful groan falls from his moist lips and his eyes flutter open, gazing lustfully at yours, “…say that again.”

The paintbrushes clutter when you loosen your grip on it, a heavy gasp cemented in your chest when he squeezes the tip of his cock harder, and his back arches further into the cushions until his head falls back against the gold arm of the couch. Your fingers have lost purpose under the weight of your thoughts, turning to the cuffs of your dress, and fiddling anxiously as you hide your frame behind the canvas. The ache between your legs feels like your heartbeat has fallen into your pelvis, and the restricted gasps you fail to let out has completely disrupted your breathing.

You can’t bring yourself look again—the worst-case scenarios running through your head to convince you that if you entertained his impulsive actions, you’d be punished severely. Fuck—he’s so annoying. The prince you saw that day was nothing like the one that’s in front of you now. Perhaps he’s a clone? A twin? Or maybe it was just your false perception that made you believe the prince could be somewhat normal. Instead, he’s standing in the way of your future. The prince, the reason behind your possible future, is now standing in front of it.

He’s infuriating.

Completely flustered and almost riled up by his action, you occasionally glance at the door, terrified that someone will walk in. He probably wouldn’t care—he’s shameless enough to do this in front of a complete stranger. An odd thought pops up, telling you that this is somewhat something you should be grateful for. He’s passing his madness onto you. So, you contemplate simply leaving but before your toes can even touch the floor, he stops you.

 “I never said you could leave, Miss L/N.” Satoru demands.

Your actions falter and freeze under his command, wondering if either choice—running away or keep painting—is the right one. Your eyes flutter ridiculously, slowly picking up the paintbrush, noticing how your hands still tremble. “Could you cover up, please?” 

He’s insane. Literally insane. 

The faint sounds of lewdness trickle through your ears—he’s still touching himself amid this conversation. “You don’t want that, do you?” 

You let the silence take the lead again, unable to come up with a comeback for his bold words. He’s right, but you didn't want him to know that—he’d win. He’s completely moved from his original position too. “Don’t…”

“Don’t… what?” Satoru teases, openly letting out moans whenever he could, shuffling messily against the sheets. You adjust the collar of your dress, inconveniently feeling feverish against the heat of the room. There is a cold breeze that seeps through the window, slightly open to let the fumes of the oil paint escape but it doesn’t help. It definitely isn’t the room that’s making you feel this hot, or prickly… or nervous. He interrupts the silence again, and this time with a favour that makes your blood run cold, “…could you look at me, Y/N, please?” 

Does he crave attention? Why did he need your eyes? Hesitantly, you place the paintbrush down against the canvas brush holder, shuffling your seat to the left so you could slightly peek past the canvas without revealing yourself too much. His swirling eyes caught yours far too quickly, and it caught the way you briefly watched his large hand smoothly motion up and down his cock. Hastily, you move behind the canvas again, hands covering your face in embarrassment and there’s a faint laugh that escapes his mouth. A pretty laugh, it’d be prettier if you weren’t so puzzled right now.

“Fuck—look at me,” he demands more sternly, his voice becoming hoarser as he continues to pleasure himself. You’d break too fast if you take another look. The same bizarre thought that this sight alone is another blessing placed upon you appears again. He looked so pretty, stroking himself and you were cowering behind your canvas. You shake your head—despite his titles and otherworldly appearance, he isn’t someone you’d ever see again. “Y/N.” 

But does your name need to sound that beautiful coming out of his mouth? 

The ache between your legs throbs even more, and you subconsciously clench your thighs as if your body is no longer in your control. Hesitatingly, once again, you shuffle to the side to behold the sight of him almost nearing his orgasm. His cheeks flushed red, eyes fluttered closed and his back arching against the cushions. His cock, pretty and sensitive, leaking and hard against his hand is a sight that you want to memorise desperately.

His chest, long and firm, moves so fluidly and you want nothing more than to run your hand across it. You breathe heavily, almost as heavily as he is, and when he looks down to stroke faster—he catches your stare. Despite his flushed state, he still manages to smile smugly when he notices you haven’t looked away. 

Your head immediately falls, at your fiddling hands, unsure what to do when he’s caught you doing such a blatant thing. This is humiliating. 

“I’m close—… fuck—”

You look up as if he urged you to, but this time you feel the eagerness run through your veins when he proclaims his imminent orgasm. The way his back arches, a beautiful groan falling from his lips and cum spurting out against his stomach, lewdly slathering it against his cock. Your hand subconsciously presses against your chest, a poor attempt at trying to control your heartbeat and Satoru lazily smiles when he notices that. 

“Can you clean me up?” Satoru suddenly asks, resting one of his arms behind his head as he waits for you to follow his words. The luxuries of being a Crown Prince. Slightly irritated that he would command such a thing after making you watch—you get up to find tissues laying around. As you walk towards one of the many tables that greets you with a golden tissue box (…everything was golden in here), avoiding the filthy sight of his pose, Satoru interrupts your actions. “Uh, uh.”

The tissues are barely in your grasp when he tuts in disapproval—your choice is to look at him. When you do, his eyes are wide and blue and they’re staring at you with faux innocence.

He’s truly something else. 

Satoru points to the mess on his stomach, “…not with tissues. Come here,” he commands, with one of his hands motioning you towards him, gesturing how close he wants you. Your mind can’t fathom what he means, not until he says it so brazenly. When you’re close—he tugs you down on top of him, legs on either side of his thighs and there’s a certain proximity that worsens the ache between your legs and the irregular beat of your heart. You’re sitting on top of the prince. “You have a mouth don’t you?” 

For some reason, you can’t use it. He’s surpassing all your expectations and laying down completely new ones. You can’t believe what he’s trying to hint at. Though, his gaze penetrates you and when you try to look away, you notice the cum sitting on his stomach and it’s calling to your tongue. The request makes you feel lesser than him and yet, you want to. “Are you serious? You want me to use my mouth?” 

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” Satoru responds, staring at you in disbelief. You almost scoff, but hold back, not knowing what he could do if you were to disobey him with such confidence. You don’t know how many lines you’ve crossed just to create some sort of boundary, but you fear that he’ll only tolerate so much.

Still hesitant, you rest your hand against the backrest of the couch before your tongue peaks out to lightly lick against his stomach. Satoru doesn’t say a word, so when you look at him to wonder why, you realise how intensely he’s staring at you. The palm of his hand finds the back of your head, brushing your hair as you lick with prolonged kisses. With a flat tongue, you lick a long stripe against his stomach, eliciting a throaty moan from Satoru.

For some reason, there’s a passion behind your actions—the way you kiss after you lick, or the way your eyes meet his when you stick out your tongue. Just to hear more from him. Satoru aches again and he wants nothing more than to put his cock in your mouth.

“You can touch me if you want,” Satoru breathes out, leaning forward to firm the press on your head. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes widen at his request. Does he know you want to? Do you know that you want to? You were just resenting him moments ago—so what makes him think that you wanted to touch him? That resentment fades when you look at how flushed out he looks, as if roses have been painted all over him and there’s an urge to keep them there. “I’ll stay still after—paint me all you want…just touch me.”

The way he begs—it’s a sound you’d never expect to hear from someone who demands so often. But your hand suddenly wraps around his wet cock, causing his head to softly crash against the cushions. You motion up and down, slowly releasing a long string of spit that lands on his tip, before spreading such fluids all over his length. He curses under his breath, hips faintly rising to chase your touch and your fingers press against his nipple. You marvel at the way he responds to your touch, and you feel like you’ve barely done anything. You’re not necessarily experienced, but he makes you feel like you are. 

When your mouth finally wraps around his cock, the strain of his moan worsens and the press of his hand sends you further down—so far down that your eyes begin to water. A brief, terrifying thought of being caught like this strikes a fear in your heart, but Satoru looks so heavenly when he chases the vulgar sounds of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your hands boldly brushes against his chest, pinching and tugging at his nipples.

Satoru probably foresighted your desperation, he knew that you’d break like this. Humming against the way he tries to gag you, your fingers fondle him, massaging his nipples in a circular motion and it sends him further down your throat when his back dramatically arches against the couch.

“That’s enough,” Satoru suddenly says, pulling you back by your hair and the lecherous sight of you catching your breath makes him effortlessly aroused again. Your eyes can’t seem to focus on a single thing, watching your tremulous fingers, glancing at him every now and then and eventually, you close them to avoid his gaze from your peripheral vision. You nimbly wipe the corner of your mouth before he demands again. “Stand up.” 

You stand up from the couch, doe-eyed and confused to what his intentions are. The fact that he’s almost naked still makes you nervous, and now you’re hazy from such an intimate situation. You’ve truly gone insane. “I should finish the painting.”

“Hm,” he barely mutters as he spryly fiddles with the cuffs of your dress. You feel as if someone fixed your feet to the ground because Satoru’s wandering hands are doing so much more than just fiddling. 

“Wait—I,”

“Y/N,” Satoru sighs, looking up at you with a clear stern look. He looks genuinely bothered by your hesitance, as if you owed him the virtue of standing still for him. “I’d really like you to serve your prince.”

“I need to finish this painting,” you attempt to say confidently, but your words dry out when his hands don’t stop moving. “You promised you’d keep still if I…”

“If you…?” 

“Just stay still,” you huff, removing yourself from his proximity and walking towards the canvas again. When you turn around, he’s tilting his head, clearly vexed and still very much aroused but you remain true to your words—picking up your paintbrush and waiting for him to return to his position. “Please—let’s finish this.”

He’s completely ruined you. Why does he have to be so shameless? Satoru rolls his eyes, amid taking his pants off and laying against the cushions, earning a sigh from you. He looks like a painting in motion now. He takes his pose in clear annoyance but doesn’t speak another word. Though his pose is not at all similar to what you were creating and he’s now completely naked—he’s completely and defiantly ignoring you.

Your patience thins, wondering how the prince ended up being such an immature subject and you unexpectedly stand up—following his gaze and standing in front of him. Anger builds up against his defiance, and you’re still heavily flustered and aroused, not sure if you can leave this place feeling satisfied that you didn’t let him touch you.

Your hand grabs his chin and forces him to look at the side that he was originally looking at. “Just keep still, okay?” 

His hand suddenly grabs yours, dragging you down so that you sit on the space that he’s left for you but his eyes are blazing with fury and fear runs through your own. “I could get your hand cut off for that.” 

Noting his influence—you nod slowly, hoping he’d loosen the grip on your wrist. “I’ll be sure to remember that.” 

“I don’t know,” Satoru sighs, “…why should I let you off now?” 

The tension thickens, even a saw couldn’t wedge its way through it and Satoru still doesn’t release the grip on your hand, instead he marvels at it, playing with your fingers until he does the unthinkable. His mouth slowly envelops your middle finger, eyes daring to keep staring at yours as he motions back and forth, adding another finger and another … and your heart is back at your throat, fingers resting in the heat of his mouth. Completely frozen, you succumb to the feeling of his tongue swirling around your fingers. “I…”

He lets go of your hand, causing it to fall to his chest just slightly and an abrupt move disrupts your inner afflictions. His hand grabs the back of your head, pulling you much closer and he doesn’t let you think before he’s licking your lips, urging you to open your mouth. You do—eyes wide open, refusing to melt into his kiss, but his tongue is carefully pressing against yours and it’s making every part of your body throb.

He presses even harder, to a point where saliva coats your lips, and there’s a brief moment before you’re reciprocating, almost pushing him back with the way you press against him. It only excites him further, leaning back to pull you further down and now you’re hovering over him, kissing him like you’ve been craving it for eternity.

He briefly parts from you, tugging at your hair softly and it only makes your desperation known when you struggle to pull apart from him, breaths mingling as you try to catch his lips between yours again. “To think you were just going to continue painting,” he says, grinning smugly against your lips—your eyes closed in embarrassment, “…I didn’t even have to do much to make you do it. It’s a bit pathetic, don’t you think?” 

What the hell can you say to that? Why on earth did you succumb to his orders so easily? You’re barely showing you had a mind of your own but fuck—you can’t deny how badly you want him. 

“I think you’re crazy.” You mutter honestly, and he senses the tribulation behind your words, his grin widening.

“I’m crazy?” Satoru responds, suddenly getting up and pulling you up with him—this time, he sits you on top of him. He hunches your dress up to give himself room for his hands to glide across your bare thighs, until he reaches the outline of your panties—just at your hips. It’s futile to convince him that the painting needs to be done, because his fingers were so delicate when they brush against your underwear and rough when they’re hooked underneath, to yank them to the side. A gasp escapes your lips. His fingers trail along your slit, revealing your wetness with the utmost satisfaction. “Says the one who’s already fucking filthy.” 

The vulgar words only send shocks of arousal down to your pussy, clenching around nothing when two fingers begin circling on your clit, soaking in your wetness but it’s so much that it coats his fingers to his knuckles. Your voice shakily responds to his touch. “This is a really bad idea.” 

Satoru flippantly laughs, burying his head into the crook of your neck, softly puncturing his teeth before he sucks against your skin. “Then who’s going to clean you all up?” He says, lifting his fingers to suck the arousal off of them, a plop sounding noise erupting when he finishes indulging at the taste of you. You don’t stop looking, shocked and overwhelmed, and frankly unsure on what to do. 

When he nudges your dress down, your eyes flutter closed, slightly flustered that he’s seeing you bare. When he doesn’t make another move, an eerie silence taking the room and its ambience, you slowly look down, wondering if this majestic being isn’t satisfied by your vulnerability. It scares you. But his fingers resemble the same way you touched him, softly tugging at your nipples, ogling as they harden under his fingertips. He plays with them in circles, intently cupping them with his large hands and letting you sink into them, making you press your chest into the warmth he’s offering you. 

“Cute.” He murmurs, flickering his gaze from your breasts to your eyes, then he leans down, his mouth gently closing around your nipple. It’s an immediate reaction, the way you arch your back against his mouth, relishing in the way he flicks his tongue against your nipple. As his tongue moves devotedly against your nipples, two fingers return to your pussy, rubbing languidly against your clit. “...and needy.” 

“This isn’t right.” You absentmindedly mutter to yourself, refusing to believe that the prince was between your legs, touching you like this. 

“Oh, but it is.” He mocks. It’s right for him. It’s right for someone as desperate as you. “Did you like watching me that much?” He asks, continuing to brush two fingers against your sodden slit, parting your lips before bringing them up again, observing his damp fingers. This is beyond humiliating but your hips can’t help but raise to find more of his touch. 

You did—a bit too much for your own liking. 

“It’s only fair that I get a taste too, right?” He amusingly whispers, falling back into the backrest as his large hands tightly grip your hips, nudging you to sit up properly. Satoru relishes in your dishevelled state, barely comprehending his words without being on the brink of a single orgasm—he has you wrapped around his finger. You couldn’t deny him the opportunity, enamoured by his pink lips, wondering how it’d look completely worshipping you in the filthiest way. “Take it off.” 

You hastily nod, listening to him when he tugs at you to remove your underwear, which you hurriedly do, letting it slip down before you sit on him again. Nervously waiting for his next move, you brace yourself as he slides down, disappearing between your legs as the entirety of your dress hunches around your waist. 

Worried that someone might walk in, you hold back from removing your dress. But the urge is there, solely for the sake of seeing Satoru resting between your thighs, running his hands across your quivering thighs. You wonder if he can breathe. Your eyes deliberately glance up at the grand painting, barely immersed, a poor attempt at distracting yourself from the man heavily breathing beneath you—tightly gripping the couch, noticing odd details, wondering how the hell you ended up here.

Then he grabs your hips and presses you down against his face, and licks.

Your back instantly arches, a sharp gasp escaping you when his tongue softly swirls around your clit, sucking noisily before his mouth desperately moves against your slit. The lewd sound of his huffing reverberates from the confinements of your dress, accompanied with filthy sucking and the stickiness that makes a mess of your thighs. His hands are kneading your ass, forcing you to sit further down to a point of near suffocation. But he keeps sucking and licking and kissing all the right places, and it doesn’t help that you’re doing a poor job at keeping your moans in, dispersing with the ambience of the evening. 

You can’t deny it—he’s good. Really good. Fucking amazing. The cleanliness of this room doesn’t amount to the filth that’s occurring between your legs, and he resorts to shamelessly moaning again, consuming you like you’re meant to be devoured. It sends shudders down your spine and the epitome of mystery is no longer mysterious, but a cruel, charming being with a drive to get what he wants. His hands are tightly keeping you in place, seamlessly telling that you were no longer the sole owner of your body. You have to see, to see how you’re making a mess of his perfect face, but your body shrinks into the couch, face buried in your arms as you try to level your heartbeat with his motions. 

“How are you so good at this, fuck—” His tongue prods at your entrance, eagerly raising himself to twirl his tongue inside of you, prompting you to ride his face. Absentmindedly, you do—chasing the sensation of his wandering tongue, feeling it rise at the bottom of your stomach, rushing over that heat that complements your prickly goosebumps. While your head lolls back, you wither against the odd vibrations accompanying his fluid motions, losing grip of the couch. 

“Off—take—mph—it off,” Satoru mutters, never once slowing down, switching from sucking your clit with the utmost desperation to letting you ride his tongue. You so badly want to ignore him, terrified that you won’t have time to compose yourself if someone were to walk in but it’s getting so hot—so suffocating, and he must look so delectable right now, a sight you needed to see. Desperately, you take your dress off, throwing it across the backrest and letting your bare body succumb to his touches because he’s immediately sliding his hands upwards, kneading your breasts, and pinching your nipples as he hastily slurps at you. Your hands finds his, holding it as he works at your chest.  

His tongue flattens against your slit, moaning lustfully as you glide across it, making such a mess of his face. Slick messily coats his lips and chin, sliding down the corners of his mouth when you lose control, using him to chase your high. Satoru senses it—the way your thighs are trembling next to him, grabbing you to halt your frantic movement, sucking your clit unrelentingly. “Oh shit—shit—!” 

When you finally look down, you peer at the unabashed prince between your legs, whose lidded eyes return your gaze and you’re convinced you’re done. He looks divine. So divine that the feeling of his tongue washes over you tenfold, until your hand instantaneously grips his fluffy hair, wincing when the sensation reaches its peak—a long, shuddered whine escaping when you finally come, which he desperately chases with his tongue, slurping and sucking with no intention of stopping. You try to relax, slumping against the backrest when you twitch around his face, but he’s still relentlessly going at it.

“That’s—that’s enough,” you manage to breathe out, withering uncontrollably over his overstimulating motions, thighs tightly closing around his head. Satoru merely hums, grabbing your thighs to keep you pressed against him. “Please—fuck!”

Your pleas run on deafened ears, twitching wildly against the rapid tongue flicks to your clit, the feeling of a second orgasm rising, bordering on discomfort because he doesn’t want to stop. This time, Satoru momentarily removes his mouth, slipping a finger inside until he’s nudging towards your spot, uttering breathlessly. “I don’t know…seems like you want more.” 

Satoru laughs when he notices you sniffling against tears that seemed to have conjured up, shuffling from under you to remove himself from your thighs. He hovers over you from the back, slapping your ass before burying his hand in your hair, forcing you to press against his front. His lips brush your ear, while his hand nimbly massages your breast, the other sliding down to find your clit again. He languidly rubs when you try to catch your breath, holding onto him as he presses prolonged, wet kisses on your neck. 

“I’ll give you more,” he whispers, creeping the hand on your clit behind you. One of his fingers prods at your entrance, a light wet noise eliciting from the way he teased you, so deeply enamoured by your state that he doesn’t bother taking in your desperation.

When he finally slips a finger inside, he looks at you, observing the way you wither and freeze up at the slenderness, immediately sinking knuckle deep.

He mimics the sharp gasp that falls from your lips, loving the way you succumb to his movements. “I’ll give it to you again, and again, and again, until you’re too fucked out to even blink. So, don’t tell me to stop.”

And you wouldn’t dare to. How could you? You've never been touched like this in your life, unfortunately known for having a tedious love life for two reasons: one, you were always working, and two, every single romantic partner of yours had really poor lovemaking skills. Your first orgasm with him feels more like a revelation than a simple sensation, opening your eyes to new scopes of pleasure and pain—if Satoru wasn’t so unattainable, you’d do anything to keep him around.

No matter how badly he tries to hide his lustful desperation, he can’t help but settle comfortably behind you, immediately accompanying his finger with another, stretching you out and nudging towards a spot that makes your legs close around him again. Your lidded eyes can’t open, it can’t witness the obscene sight of him shoving his fingers inside of you, relentlessly smacking as his other hand continues to massage your nipples. 

His fingers stretch you out, curving to hit that sensitive spot until you’re crawling to slump against the backrest. But he’s already dragging you back by your hair, keeping you fixed against his chest, adoring the way your damp skin presses against his. He warns you. “You’ve been really rude—don’t think you can start running now.”

The hand on your hair trails down to your sensitive clit, simultaneously moving with his fingers to draw your orgasm. It almost hurts, still recovering from his unyielding tongue. 

The sun is setting, and you’re not sure how much time has passed since you walked in. What if Nanami walks in? Is it time to leave? So many questions running through your mind, anxiety and arousal concurrently rushing through you. You tiredly voice your concern. “S—someone could walk in.” 

“So?” He retorts, accelerating his pace when he rubs your clit. “What are they going to do? Every single person in the palace belongs to me. That includes you.”

You want to agree, perhaps convincing him that you believe it would make him a consistent figure in your life but news of this would do irreversible damage to your name—clients would see nothing but someone who uses people in power to get what she wants. They’ll probably assume you accepted the invitation just to fuck him. If you’re caught—you would be ruined.

You absentmindedly whisper. “But my reputation…” 

“You should be honoured,” he utters, “Don’t assume such things about me… I don’t just fuck anyone.” 

He’s driving you insane. 

The filthy sounds of his fingers inside of you resound the room, heavy breathing from the both of you lingering in the air and there’s no time to even think before he’s speeding up. He wants another. Satoru messily licks and sucks your neck, cheek until he’s momentarily forcing your chin to the side, overlapping his tongue over yours and muffling your loud moans. Unsure on where to put your hands, you settle with holding his cheek, keeping his lips pressed against yours—treasuring a moment you’re not sure you want to get out of.

“The moment you walked in, you belonged to me.” He whispers against your lips.

A sensible part of you wants to believe that he’s speaking too soon about you belonging to him, but as every moment passes, you start to believe he’s right. No one is safe from the wonders of his character. 

“Oh fuck—wait—!” 

“Don’t be shy, you can come again.” He mutters, slipping his fingers out of you to wrap his hand around your throat, rubbing your clit with the utmost swiftness. Your hand desperately reaches out for him, tightly holding his wrist as he rubs relentlessly. Deliberately tightening his grip, he lowly curses at the lewd sounds of your wetness squelching under his fingertips. He doesn’t want to stop—melting in the way you wither against him, shaking fervently when you come, clamping your thighs together to try to stop him from continuing. His sodden fingers trail across your abdomen, your chest until he clasps your chin in his hand, slipping them through your parted lips. 

Messily, his tongue joins you, meshing your coated lips together while his fingers continue to layer yours with your cum. He shares the thrill of sucking his fingers with you, having no intention of keeping anything remotely clean between the two of you, relishing in all of your flavours. He loves making a mess of you, and it’s the last detail that destroys everything you thought you knew of him. That same man you saw in that carriage is not the same man touching you like this. The messiness of this scene only worsens the unyielding throbbing in your body, craving more and more of him until you pass out. You can’t let him know—terrified that he’ll cruelly test your limits. 

He notices your apprehension, laughing again when he loosens his grip on your neck, letting you fall drowsily against the couch. “What?”

“Too…–tired…” You mutter incoherently.

“Too tired?” Satoru repeats, a hint of shock underlying his words. He doesn’t bother bringing you up again, following you onto the couch and sitting comfortably on his knees behind you. Lewd sounds return but you don’t sense it coming from your body, so you tiredly turn around to see him stroking himself, gazing on your pussy with such determination. Despite your fatigue, you can’t help but stare in awe as he preps himself. He smiles lazily at you when he notices your stare, then he slowly rubs his tip against your slit, lathering all of your wetness. “Too tired to take me?” 

Your mind doesn’t register what he’s saying, shuddering at the sensation of his tip slightly stretching you out, a curious urge to just push back into him. But you’re a mess, embarrassingly cowering into the embroidered cushions, dried tears settling on your cheeks and there’s no care for the smell of oil paint drying up.

Satoru tuts at your lack of response, pushing further in with no intention of letting you adjust, and your shuddering gasps repeat one after the other, until he’s pushing you back into him entirely. The cushions slightly tear when you grip tightly, scratching against the material as he finally sinks as far as he can without hurting you just yet—paying great attention to the way you react. “Satoru…”

“Satoru?” He repeats, chuckling at the informality. You’re too wrecked to even understand why he’s amused but you mindfully tell yourself to never repeat his name out loud, scared that he’ll draw a line, despite jumping over every single line you’ve drawn for yourself. He doesn’t move any faster, sinuously fucking into you with a slow, agonising pace and leans forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, placing an enduring kiss that stings. “You can say my name all you want, only if you promise to scream it for me.”

When he abruptly slams into you, those shuddered gasps turn into croaked moans, hands clambering to the cushions to balance yourself as he relentlessly fucks into you. He feeds off of your responses, but he’s losing himself in the warmth of your walls, chasing the filthy, lewd noises that reverberate when he pounds his cock into you. Satoru is lost—in a world of his own, murmuring how he fits into you perfectly, how your pussy creams around him and calls you all sorts of names, playing with every part of your body as you attempt to stifle your own moans with the cushion. “Satoru—fuck—!”

“Louder,” he groans, bracing himself against the couch for a better angle, shuffling you so that he can place his foot on the floor. His pace fastens mercilessly, the resonances of his hips smacking into yours gets louder, consistently ending with an obscene squelch and he’s fucking you so good that you’re senselessly crying into the cushions.

Unimpressed by your attempt at muffling your moans, his hand slides up your back until it’s slipping around your neck, forcing your head up and he thrusts in—hard. 

“Satoru!” You embarrassingly moan—nearly screaming the palace down and he couldn’t be any more satisfied. 

“That’s right. Let them know who’s fucking you like this.” He responds, leaning forward to lick your neck–an inhumane sense of stamina he has, never slowing down to even let you recoup, tightening his hand around your neck to earn choked gasps from you while his tongue licks a strip against your cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears. Completely and utterly destroyed, you turn to face him, surprised with a wet kiss being placed on your lips, tongue playing your parted lips as he continues to draw out your orgasm.

The fullness of his cock pounds into all of your clenching, the tip slowly—just slowly sinking in further, until he’s brushing into corners that edge towards a soreness you strangely like. He keeps teasing you, making fun of your reactions, enjoying the way you wince and give into him. Mockingly, he asks. “Am I really fucking you that good?” 

He knows he is.

“Ye— yes, so good,” you stupidly murmur, lapsing into the way his hand on your hips slips in front of your clit. You want more—so much more. “Fuck—it’s so good.”

 Then the door opens. 

“Oh—”

A loud gasp escapes you, briefly looking up to see an unfamiliar man holding beverages standing by the door, completely horrified by the sight. Satoru’s momentarily distracted, slackening his grip on your neck, allowing you to cower into the cushions again, and you try to move away from him. He only pauses, unmoving—his cock twitching inside of your clenching walls, causing him to groan when you lose control around him and pulls your hips back. The random individual stills, unsure of what to do and the silence irritates Satoru.

“Can I help you?”

“I have some beverages for you,” the servant nervously utters. Satoru instills a fear in him—it seemed like his character is nothing like you imagined. You also never imagined you’d be caught with his cock inside of you. 

“You can place it on the table.” Satoru nonchalantly responds, running his large hand across your sweaty back. Amused by your embarrassed state, he begins playing with your clit, eliciting muffled moans from you again, with no care that the servant is still in the room. The servant attempts to hurriedly walk out of the room, but an incoherent noise escapes you, utterly horrified that he’ll tell everyone about what he’s seen. Satoru oddly senses your apprehension again. “What’s wrong?”

“What if he tells everyone?” You softly whisper, refusing to show your face. 

“He won't say anything…will you?” He says, slowly motioning his hips until he’s so far deep. 

“No—no, of— of course not.”

“Good. If I hear even a whisper within this palace, I’ll know who to blame.” He says, sternly. He’s insane. Everything you hate—using his power to get whatever he wants.

Gojo Satoru always gets what he wants. 

“Unless you plan on watching like a pervert, get out of my sight.” 

The door quickly thuds, and you’re too humiliated to even understand what just happened. You wonder how Satoru must’ve looked, if he looked stern and almost murderous, but you’re too busy recoiling into the sheets, overstimulated and embarrassed that he has you like this. 

“Now…where were we?” He says, stretching out your cheeks to watch you clench against his cock. “Oh right—” 

His hand returns to your neck but this time he’s pressing your head into the cushions and his thumb carelessly slips into your mouth, making you drool against it, resuming his unremittingly fast pace. Your incoherent moans are muffled by his thumb pressing on your tongue, almost blubbering against your excessive drooling and he falls back into his mean words, slamming his hips into you so hard that it hurts.

You can feel it—it’s coming, his cock is fucking into you so good and you want nothing more than to come all over him, but he won’t let you breathe. You’re so embarrassed, succumbing to the way he fills you up even when you were just caught. 

“It’s funny, isn’t it? How quickly people lose themselves.” He rambles on, frequently groaning when you tighten around him. “I really thought you had some self-control, but you’ve ended up right here, drooling over my cock like a whore—”

“Satoru—” you manage to muffle.

“I knew from the moment I saw you,” he utters, insistently rubbing your clit to draw your orgasm. “Do you want to be my whore? I’ll keep you. Use me all you want for your little projects, and I’ll use you too.”

You must be going insane, but the idea doesn’t sound remotely bad to you at all—if it means having him fuck you like this, you’ll take it, you’ll take it all. Then he slips out of you, yanking you back by your hair to make you fall against the backrest and you gape upon his fucked-out state, watching as he strokes his cock, but it’s nothing compared to the mess he’s made of you. Your legs are still spread out for him, aching as he momentarily rips your orgasm away from you. 

“Please…”

Satoru smirks, leaning his arm next to your head as he continues to stroke himself. He brushes his tip along your clit again, in awe of all the excessive cum that you’ve produced for him. “Please fuck you? I’m not usually this nice, but I suppose you’ve finally realised your place.”

When his tip falls upon your entrance again, his arms rest under your knees, placing your legs in the air, and slams into you with a loud, lewd squelch. His damp forehead, white strands sticking to it, lightly thuds against yours, hot breaths mingling as he thrusts so profoundly that it completely ruins you. This angle, that strains your legs, lets him sink as deep as he can and he moves so fluidly that he repeatedly hits against your spot just right.

You can’t help but observe his concentrated look, focusing on fucking you so good that your thighs shake fervently against his arms. He notices, flashing you another lazy smile, and the sight hurts your heart, almost overriding the feeling of him pounding into you rigorously.  

“Has anyone told you how good you fucking feel? It’s like you’re sucking me in,” he says, panting as moments go by, utterly losing his mind. You’re too delirious to even respond, but he takes your silence as an answer. “Maybe you’re just meant for me, hm? All for me.” 

“Oh…—!” 

The sensation creeps up on you like an unwanted guest, an odd cry within you that doesn’t want any of this to end, because every now and then, he’ll slow down to keep you from coming.

“Won’t you wait for your prince?” He teases breathlessly, slipping out to play with your cum, making a mess before thrusting into your pulsating walls again. He decides teasing you is enough, feeling his own orgasm creep up on him too and as much he wants to come inside of you—he can’t risk such a careless action. His hands anchor your legs to the backrest, propelling into you as fast as he can.

The obscenity could be heard from the servants walking around outside—slapping, squelching, blatant moans and the couch, no matter how finely anchored it is to the floor, creaks against his fluid motions. 

“Hold your legs up.” He softly orders, and you listen, replacing his hands and uncomfortably holding your legs up, much to Satoru’s content. He slows down, intensely observing the cum that leaks out of your entrance, gradually slipping back inside, eliciting an intense shudder from you when his hand glides across your neck, tightening his grip. 

“Satoru!” You embarrassingly choke through his hand squeezing your neck, eyes squeezing shut as your orgasm cruelly washes over you and he’s using his free hand to messily rub your clit, little spurts of cum splashing over his stomach when you come.

“So messy…” He tuts, but you both know, he loves it. The way you frantically tremble against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head, and your constant clenching doesn’t save you from the way he bullies your sensitive spot, forcing you to spill over him excessively. You fear his urge to keep going as he fucks you through your orgasm, clambering to grab at his hand that tightly grasps your neck, voicelessly urging him to stop. 

Your voice fails you, unintelligible moans leaving you until he finally slows down, slipping out and caressing himself again. Looking at you with the greatest intention of devouring you. He looks ethereal staring down at you as you convulse against the most overwhelming orgasm you’ve ever had. 

Then he coarsely speaks. “Open your mouth.” 

You thoughtlessly listen, parting your lips as he buries his hand in your hair, bringing your mouth to his tip as he continues to lewdly lather all of your cum on his cock. You’re embarrassingly eager, but you lay out your tongue when he taps his tip against your bottom lip, staring as he readily chases his own orgasm.

Cursing under his breath, he stares in awe of your unkempt state, so eager to take all of his cum and he does so, all over your tongue, and your face, and chest—until he’s spilled all of him over you, noisily groaning. You mindlessly curse at the messiness, but you’re too gone to even complain, still twitching from your orgasm.

“Huh, the sun’s gone.” He nonchalantly mutters. You don’t even notice the dark skies, the quiet chirping and the odd shuffling that occurs outside of this room. Satoru suddenly kneels down, letting your head rest on his shoulder while your fatigued state tries to recover, running his large hands across your back. 

“Have to… finish…– painting.” You mumble against his shoulder. 

“You’ve done enough.” He responds, grabbing your chin to make you look at him. You never fail to fall into his eyes, wondering what it would be like to actually drown in them—you wouldn’t mind at all. He collects the tissue box that you previously tried to give to him, placing it on your lap. “Clean yourself up.” 

“What… you won’t lick this off me?” You manage to muster sarcastically, earning an amused chuckle from Satoru. “I guess chivalry really is dead.” 

A knock disrupts the comfortable silence. It must be Nanami, drawing a long sigh from you, tiredly wiping all of the mess that’s on you. “Same thing tomorrow then?” 

You look at him in disbelief, momentarily forgetting that this is just the first of several sessions. “Will you promise to stay still this time?” 

He doesn’t answer, an impish grin etching across his face. 

extra

It had been months since those sessions. You remembered less of the actual painting because the mere sensation of his cock had clouded all of your memories. So, when your several guests are asking you about your piece, besotted by the details and the interpretative messages, you can’t help but observe the man in it.

Was it odd to miss him? Or was it his touch that had completely shackled him to your memory? You don’t know, but looking at this piece over and over again, constantly reminded of his character and his touch was taking its toll on you, unable to explain the process or the meaning to your engrossed guests. 

The sensible chatter among the guests in the royal exhibition suddenly ends, turning into hushed whispers as they collectively turn towards the large entrance. 

You follow their gaze, after being so stupidly absorbed in your own piece. The royal family walk through the cleared-out path elegantly, gesturing towards the guests that are so entranced by them, but your eyes are already trying to look for Satoru, whose white hair effortlessly peaks through the numerous guards momentarily surrounding them.

He’s so grand, tall and alluring that the sight of the royal family immediately blurs when he steps into your line of your vision, he doesn’t notice you just yet, clearly bored by the entire ordeal. His drifting gaze looks among the crowd, a clear hint of disdain directed towards them until his eyes land on the painting.

Your painting. 

Following the details, a small smile creeps on his lips, and slowly his gaze falls upon you, a delicious smirk etched across his face. 

Your breath senselessly hitches at his gaze, cowering and fretfully making sure that no one could notice the way he was looking at you. You immediately turn away, not allowing yourself to repeat the same thoughts that landed you under him on several occasions in the first place—focusing your attention on the interested guests when the family disperses.

Satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s creeping up behind you, mindfully listening to the way you explain the piece to the observers, but his appearance alone is enough to distract everyone, causing them to direct their attention towards him. Slowly, you turn to face him, greeting him calmly and hoping he doesn’t sense your uneasiness. 

He does. 

“It’s quite the piece, isn’t it?” 

“Yes. I think it’s beautiful.” A random observer quickly responds, clearly keen on getting his attention. You have to remind yourself that you’re not the only one he has wrapped around his finger. 

“All thanks to Y/N.” He says, staring playfully at you. 

“Thank you.” You reply timidly, shrinking at the fact that you’ve reverted back to forming boundaries. Though, it has been months and you’re mindfully hoping he’ll cross that line again. 

“I’d like to discuss something with you,” he asks, cutting the discussion short way too early, almost suspiciously even—feigning interest over the topic of art, but really, he just wants to get you alone, so he looks up in contempt at the group of guests still weirdly staring at him.  “—in private.” 

The guests silently disperse, leaving the both of you alone. His stare, no matter how familiar, still manages to make you uneasy so you turn to the painting, Satoru shortly following your action. He’s amused at your attempt to look as discreet as possible, but his hand is already trying to tug at your fingers, craving some form of contact after such long, tedious months. You’re both still quite immersed in the piece, pretending that there’s nothing strange going on.

“Have you explored the rest of the museum? It’s beautiful.” He says, feigning ignorance to his suggestive tone. 

“Is it?” You reply casually, pretending that your heart isn’t about to jump out of your chest. 

“Yeah, I could show you around.” He says cheekily, looking down at you but you refuse to part your gaze from the painting, afraid you’ll raise suspicion among the guests. 

Biting your lip, you momentarily give it a thought. You eventually muster up the confidence to look at him again. “Only if you let me use you again—for my little projects of course.” 

His grin widens. “I can’t say no to that, can I?” 

a/n: ending things r like the hardest part lol . thank u for reading <3

Insatiable

JJK | Gojo/Reader/Nanami/Toji

PART TWO COMING SOON!

NSFW 18+ MDNI. Reader is female. Wc: 10,646. Reblogs appreciated. :)

⇨ You’ve been sneaking out to Megumi’s dorm at night lately to have sex and drink. As rumours float around about you and Megumi dating your teacher Gojo pays attention to this. One night you get caught coming back home by Gojo and Nanami, they give you a punishment and teach you what it’s like to take an older man.

Characters aged up to 18, third years in high school.

A/N Hi everyone! Honestly this is super brain rot and I love how it turned out. Gojo and Nanami are hot and I just had to write for them. This was actually really inspired by a guy I engaged with and I got a lot of inspiration for dialogue and dynamic from him.

I’m cross posting here from my AO3! Link is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36176560/chapters/90178126

*TW* Dub con, drunk sex, teacher/student. If those topics make you uncomfortable please don’t read this.

Kudos/Likes and comments are so appreciated.

Tag list: breeding, creampie, blowjobs, oral, rough sex, light bondage, shibari, dub con, vaginal sex, DILF Fushiguro Toji, size difference, FMM threesome, daddy kink, spanking. + more!! I hope you like it.

Clinking of bottles filled the quiet room, well totally quiet aside from the clock ticking. You took your phone off of the kitchen counter and opened it to see the time 10:32 PM. You lived with Gojo as he took you in from when you were a young child as your guardian. Now you were a third year in high school and a young woman.

Gojo was out with Nanami, doing whatever - it did not particularly concern you. What did concern you was getting over to Megumi’s dorm. You had gotten all dolled up, now as a blossoming young woman you were introduced to the world of sex and men. You applied some heavy makeup, of course you were not allowed to wear makeup at school so you did this in your off time.

Now what were you currently doing? Well… you were in the fridge stealing some of Nanami’s alcohol he left over at the place to pick up on the way home. It was some beer and you got a bottle of vodka too. Gojo did not drink but you stole a bottle of some random soda in the fridge to wash down the alcohol. Fantastic!

You had been on birth control for only a month now, you were not dating Megumi though, you had a connection that was more than friends with him, you often snuck over and had sex with him, you fucked, drank, cuddled. Romantic feelings were there.

Other students at Jujutsu High were suspicious of you two and often stating “I bet Fushiguro and (Name) have something going on, if you know what I’m saying. It’s obvious too.”

You had a smug look on your face as you exited the room and made your way over to Megumi’s dorm. You were at that age of rebellion. You knocked on the door, with your backpack on that was filled with the beverages as he opened the door. He was wearing a black tee shirt and grey sweat pants. He had just gotten out of the shower, he smelled fresh and had a soft look on his face.

Nobara said that you were the only girl who Megumi was actually nice to, it made you reflect back on the times he’d always help you out, buy you strawberry milk, you two were very close and had chemistry.

“You are like the only chick who can make that weird dude blush and smile, you must be his future wife!” She told you once, you’ve never forgotten that.

“Hey, glad you could make it.” His silky smooth voice echoed through the quiet dorm hallway.

“Hi!” Your chirpy voice greeted him, “of course. I’m glad I could be here. I brought some drinks like I told you.” You giggled quietly as he escorted you inside his room

“You look beautiful tonight, I love that dress on you. Is that the one I picked out?” He asked looking you up and down, you nodded your head with a blush

“Bang on!” You wore some basic cute shoes, nothing too fancy just a nice pair to go well with your little black dress.

You and Megumi had always gotten along well, maybe a little too well. You lost your virginity to him over a month ago and had now went on birth control to have him fill you up when you had these little get togethers.

You didn’t really see Gojo as a “dad”, maybe more like just a role model. You did find him very attractive and as you grew older you caught yourself having a crush on both your teachers, Nanami Kento and Gojo Satoru. Now Megumi, a guy closer to your age. Nobara said you and him totally hit it off, while on a girls day it slipped out that you totally had the hots for your teacher Gojo, she laughed uncontrollably. She warned you to stick to a guy your age.

And how was that going?

Well, you forgotten about your crush on both your teachers and just left that as a dirty fantasy that would never come true. That would be utterly ridiculous. It’s not like you could ever really have sex with Gojo or Nanami. So then, you decided to pursue Megumi. You two had gone on a few dates when you were able to get some alone time, usually out for dinner, shopping or anything really. He made you happy and you both had a good connection, the feelings were mutual and you were certain Megumi would ask you to be his girl sometime soon.

—

The buzz and rush of alcohol settled in your body, Megumi’s as well.

You were now feeling drunk, Megumi was also drunk, you had both drank a bunch of liquor and took shots. The beer wasn’t that amazing but hey, you drank it regardless.

You stayed in his dorm, talking and cuddling then decided to take a short walk around outside in the city, even though it was the middle of the night you felt safe Megumi and you knew you could always count on your crush to keep you safe. Megumi and you sort of had a relationship budding but it wasn’t to the point just yet where it was “official” so you both never announced it to any family, friends or the teachers.

While walking back to Jujutsu Tech the cool breeze hit you, it was rather humid but still a bit chilly and you were wearing such a sexy dress, Megumi handed you his sweater as you put it on and held his hand thanking him. “It’s no problem, you look cute in it. I don’t want anybody looking at you like this.” He spoke, his breath smelled like beer with a hint of fresh minty gum he was chewing prior.

He was protective too. The perfect boyfriend.

The beautiful city lights of Tokyo at night filled your eyes, feeling so lucky to hold his hand like this. You heard the crickets and sounds of cars passing by in the distance. The smell of fresh rain filled your lungs, it was raining the day prior but it was a clear nights sky now. The streets were quiet at this time too, mainly filled with people heading home from the bar or restaurants at this time.

“You know, I’m thinking since I’m wearing such a pretty dress and I’d like for you to see what’s underneath I could give you a little strip show, I have some cute new panties on.” You giggled quietly as your eyes look up to the nighttime stars, lewd intentions in the back of your mind.

”Oh yeah?” The spiky black haired and pretty deep blue eyed young man questioned, this peaked his interest. “I think it’s a perfect idea… I needed to find one way or another to see that body of yours again, baby.” His tone changed as a sly small smirk crept up onto his lips.

Your (color) eyes twinkle “did I tell you how handsome you look tonight? You’re so hot, I’m such a lucky girl to be yours.” You flirted as you took in his cologne, it had hints of lavender and bergamot leaving for the perfect masculine scent that suited Megumi and was virtuosic.

He was confident and protective over you, even though the whole situation was lowkey Megumi had always gotten you a birthday present since you first met in first year, he remembered all the little details about you, god your pussy felt incredible for his cock too. He wanted to make you his.

You both urgently rushed back to his dorm, being careful to not be caught. Itadori kind of got the hint Megumi was up to something with you in his bedroom at nights so he backed off and tried to give you two your privacy. Itadori took the time to admire Jennifer Lawrence and envy Megumi. Still maintaining the bro-code.

Once you got back to Megumi’s dorm and he shut the door, it turned into a sexy little strip dance you gave him and then one thing lead to another and he was on top of you.

“That was perfect, baby girl.” He praised as you finished your dance.

“Mm did you like it?” You hummed say you felt him suck on your neck, leaving marks and bites all over you.

“Of course I did, so much so that you’ve made me hard already.” His voice filled your ears, making a tingly heat form in your lower regions.

“Let’s do something about that, I’m in the mood for a creampie.” You giggled telling him, “pretty please?”

“I can’t resist your feminine ways, of course.”

—

1:30 AM.

“Ahh that was really good.” Your voice sighed with delight as you lay against Megumi’s chest nuzzling up against him, he rubbed small circles on your back while his other hand was holding your hand.

“It was. You know how I love fucking you, you looked so pretty with my cum leaking out of you. We have the best sex.” Megumi replied quietly as both of you came down from your high. “You even have my marks all over your neck and chest.”

“I am feeling so drunk now, your cock made me feel so incredible too.” You whined feeling the buzz from your alcohol turning into a full on drunken state.

“Will you be okay heading back?” The dark haired male asked you and you nodded your head.

“Yeah I’ll be fine! I’ll just drink water once I get back and take a shower. We have to do this again soon.” You responded.

The way back to your place wasn’t even that far, just down the hall.

“We will. Text me before you head to sleep, let me know you’re okay.” He said before you got yourself cleaned up and grabbed your things. Saying goodbye to Megumi as you left with a final hug.

—

You stumbled out of the hallway, assuring Megumi you’d get back to your place alright. As soon as you opened the door to Gojo’s residence, you noticed the light was on to the living area and the kitchen. Shit, you were busted. What reasonable excuse could you possibly have for sneaking out in the middle of the night, surely Gojo and Nanami caught on that you stole Nanami’s liquor.

Sudden regret pooled in your core. Ugh why tonight? Can’t a girl just have time alone? The fear you had as a little girl of knowing you did wrong filled you, though Gojo had never punished you too hard this was different than skipping class or giving attitude. You were drunk and wearing a short, slutty dress, totally dehydrated after drinking 4 cans of beer and however many shots. Just enough liquid courage in your system. With the whole look you had on, dress, makeup, you couldn’t play it off. You slid off your shoes as you made your way to the hallway, attempting to tip toe back to your bedroom, then you heard him.

“Ah ah ah, missy. Where do you think you’re going? Come back here.” Gojo’s voice was loud and boomed through the living area, leaving you to internally panic. He didn’t sound mad? He sounded calm as hell and playful.

“Um hello?” Your voice nervously echoed as you walked into the living space, Nanami was sitting on the couch, he had a dress shirt and tie on with the pants he wore from his suit on, he had a beer in his hand, one of the ones you left over in the fridge. On the other couch across from Nanami was Gojo, in his usual attire and some sun glasses he wore inside.

Both of the men looked at you and examined your current state making you feel like a piece of meat.

“Where were you? I don’t have a curfew for you but I have expectations that you tell me when you’re going out. You also stole Nanami’s liquor, I don’t drink it so I don’t care that much but where were you? That was irresponsible.” Gojo asked in a stern tone then Nanami scoffed at him.

“Nobara’s dorm.” Your voice lied, it came out before you could think as it was to defend yourself.

“Don’t lie. By the way you are dressed I know exactly who you were with…. Meg-“ he started.

“Yeah! So what?” You snapped which caught both of the older men off guard, flaring your still teenage attitude. Gojo was already used to dealing with teenage girls and students so it wasn’t anything new to him.

“Then why did you need to take my beer? I thought you were a better kid than that. My vodka too.” Nanami asked.

“I-I just wanted to drink with him. I’m sorry Nanami, I’m not a kid anymore though.” You crossed your arms in protest.

He rolled his eyes and stared at you. “I don’t give a damn that you’re legal. You have been getting real entitled lately. If you’re going to dress so grown you might as well act grown too. You stole liquor I bought with my own money. Damn kids, you’ve never even been to a bar or had a real cocktail before and just go straight to the hard stuff to get hammered on. Do you not realize how unsafe that was?” Nanami scolded you.

You fucked up.

“You look like a hot-mess, I’ve heard what your other classmates have been saying about you and Fushiguro. You can tell me, just be honest. Are you two having sex?” Gojo asked in curiously, holding off on any further comments not to startle you.

This shocked you, how embarrassing. Your heartbeat immedly went up and your face went red, you gasped.

“Gojo, isn’t that a bit far? She’s still just a young girl.” Nanami asked.

“I’m not mad that my little girl has a boyfriend. I just want to make sure she is being safe. I noticed you haven’t been focusing as much on becoming a sorcerer and your work, more so directing your attention to Fushiguro.” Gojo crossed his arms in disappointment.

You nodded your head, admitting to your hookups. Gojo and Nanami both gave each other a look. You almost stumble over, the alcohol was really hitting you. Nanami stood up and walked over to you in a fatherly manner.

“You should’ve been more careful. Did you have any water?” He asked and you shook your head.

“N-no, I feel sick. Too much beer.” You whined as you clung to the older blonde haired man.

He directed you to the kitchen table and sat you down on a chair, he made himself at home and walked over to the fridge. He retrieved a cup from the cupboard and poured some water from the fridge and got a few ice cubes from the ice tray in the freezer. He handed you the glass cup as you drank half of it quickly.

Even with the AC cranked up it was still hot as hell in Gojo’s place.

“So you were just hooking up with Fushiguro while drinking?” Gojo asked walking over to the two of you.

“Ye-yeah. I’m sorry I stole your beer and vodka.” You apologized.

“I understand this must be very embarrassing for you (Name). Though I’d be concerned too if I were Gojo. It’s not safe to be wandering around while you’re intoxicated. You should have told him the truth and should have asked me before having one, you have my number you know.” Nanami sat down beside you.

“Right.” Gojo added. “I want my girl to be safe. I look after you and have been for a few years now. Have you been using protection? Condoms, birth control? If you need some just ask me, you shouldn’t be having a baby this young.”

You gave the two men an intimidated look as you couldn’t really process what was happening, you whimpered.

“Yes. I got birth control, I’m sorry Gojo. I just couldn’t resist. We’ve been having a lot of fun and you’re making me feel bad about this.” You muttered as you were embarrassed but the alcohol made it less stingy, you hiccuped.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what this conversation would be like as a father.” Nanami hissed. “And now that I’m apart of it, it’s even worse.”

”Chill man, you’re here so just accept it.” Gojo grunts.

“I get it. You’re young, want to spend time with boys, have sex, drink and do all of that. But you’re forgetting your goals here, you want to become a Jujutsu sorcerer. Not only are you putting yourself at risk for going out drunk in the night and being taken advantage of, you are also putting so much into this boy forgetting your studies entirely. That beer is pretty strong too, you were reckless and I’m disappointed.” Gojo told you and you looked up to both of the men with pleading doe eyes as if you were begging him to not be upset.

He was right, you should’ve called for him to help you back.

“With a short dress like that you’re bound to get bad attention. All of that makeup too. Since when did my princess become a woman already?” Gojo asked as he looked you up and down as he crossed his arms looking at you. Gojo was almost in disbelief, he remembered when you were younger and entirely different from how you are now. You had no interest in boys and said “yuck! No way” whenever he asked if you had a crush on one of the other students. How you’ve grown.

Of course Gojo thought you were beautiful, however he was in a position where he was your teacher and he was a role model figure in your life. So he also took it upon him to hold responsibility and teach you a lesson.

“Gojo, Nanami-“ you almost fell over in your chair from the dizziness and feelings of being nauseous. “Ha, ha… it was so good with Megumi. He made me feel good, I think I’m in love with him.” You giggle.

Gojo almost choked on his own cup of water. “Excuse me? (Name). It’s just you two having sex together right? You want to make sure he doesn’t have any other partners so you don’t risk the chance of an STD. But I doubt he is talking to anybody else based on how he acts with you.”

“It’s just us.” You added as Nanami got up to give you another cup of water.

“Drink more water, let’s flush that alcohol out of your system.”

Your dress hiked up just enough to show your (favourite color) lace panties that were visible to both the men, Nanami gulped as he tried to ignore this as he placed your now filled up glass on the table you were leaning against. Your bra was practically showing too, the same (favourite color) with lace, it was matching.

“I am expecting better from you. I hope you understand the consequences of this.” Gojo started as you continued to drink the water beginning to sober up.

“I was out with Nanami at a restaurant, thinking you’re at home in your room, asleep or watching TV. You do not tell me where you’re going or that you are drinking and risk the potential of being hurt. Apologize properly to Nanami for stealing his beer.”

You let out a whimper. “I’m sorry for not telling you where I was going and being irresponsible, Gojo. Nanami, I am very sorry for taking your beer. I can give you the money for it, I’ll be more careful next time.” You apologized.

“You are forgiven.” Both of the much taller men replied to you.

“Thank you!” You replied smiling.

”All smiles now huh?” Nanami chuckled. He understood what it was like to be young and wanting to try new things, though he was a responsible adult.

“I know what it’s like to be young and crazy. So tell me, how was it? Taking Megumi’s cock?” Gojo asked and Nanami gave him a strange look, of confusion and shock .

“What do you mean?” You asked confused.

“What have you done together? Has he made you cum? I wonder if an 18 year old boy knows how to make a girl cum. Though it’s Fushiguro I’m sure he knows to an extent. He isn’t as clueless as Itadori.” Gojo thought out loud and you giggled all giddy.

…

“I mean… just blowjobs, he ate me out before, usually we fuck and he makes sure that I cum most of the time. Then we eat food and cuddle, that has been about it.” You reply with a coy tone and expression on your face. Provoking them.

“Have you ever taken a grown man’s cock?” Gojo asked you with a chuckle and your face turned pink in response as you look from Gojo to Nanami.

“N-no but I want to, I just lost my virginity a month ago to Megumi.” You mutter out and Nanami looked at you with a blank expression.

“I’ve always thought you and Nanami are hot. But it’s bad I have a crush on my teachers.” You twiddled with your fingers looking down embarrassed.

“No need to be embarrassed, sweet girl.” Nanami started as he trailed off thinking about what you were doing with Fushiguro, curious about where this may lead.

“How about you go sit on Nanami’s lap and make it up to him?” Gojo suggested as you nodded your head standing up, walking over to Nanami.

It was like a fantasy come true. You were standing right in front of Nanami, not as a student this time. You looked at your teacher, his blonde hair looked soft, his eyes were stern and he had his goggles off of him at this time, you stared into his eyes. He was buff and tall, he smelled of a clean cologne. Nanami’s aroma of a primal and yet breezy scent filled your nose.

He pulled you into his lap as your panties were pressed right above his crotch. “That’s it princess.”

“Wow Nanami! Let’s not forget (Name) is my girl after all.” Gojo laughed in a joking manner resulting in an eye roll from Nanami.

“Shut up, let’s be serious” he snapped with annoyance.

On Nanami’s lap you slightly grind yourself on him while sulking from getting caught. You take in his cologne and wrap your arms around him for a hug.

“Look at me” Nanami ordered as you looked at him with innocent yet bedroom eyes, your lips were soft pink and pouted. Then he pressed his lips against yours, they had the smell of liquor on them.

You blushed pulling away momentarily after that kiss. “How did that feel, kissing your teacher?” Nanami asked as you smirked, pressing your lips against his again as an answer. You opened your mouth as he collided his tongue with yours. It was warm and wet, you loved the sensations of making out. Nanami held his hands on your hips, holding you steady with your crotch right on top of his, your clit already aching through your panties telling you that your body was ready to be touched.

“Gojo, I’m sorry.” You whimper out again to the men.

“It’s okay, but you’ve certainly been a dirty girl. Perhaps Nanami and I could teach you what it means to be a good girl. Isn’t that right Nanami?” Gojo asked

“Damn right, couldn’t do any harm. Besides I get the feeling this is what you’ve wanted from us all along. It’s normal to have a crush on your teachers when you’re young, only natural huh.” Nanami mumbled into your ear which made you let out a hum.

He was pretty tall, your feet aren’t anywhere close to the ground while on top of his lap, you loved the size difference and how you were so petite next to him.

Your face gave it all away as you smirked and let out a small moan at the thought of it. So, it was confirmed this is what you truly desired. Gojo and Nanami both haven’t had sex with any woman in awhile so they were getting a bit pent up, a good way to teach you a lesson and relieve themselves.

You stood up “I need to go pee. Can I go to the bathroom first?”

“I don’t know, can you?” Nanami asked and you rolled your eyes jokingly as your feet were met with the cool flooring, the room was still spinning a little as you got up. Damn, the alcohol kicked in hard.

“Go ahead.” Gojo gave you permission holding his arm out to the hallway.

”I know where it is, I live here.” You gawked.

“No attitude, (Name).” Gojo responded.

You walked down your hallway towards your bathroom. You couldn’t believe this was really happening, you took a moment to regain yourself as you used the restroom then went back to find Gojo and Nanami back on the couch. This didn’t feel real, let alone it didn’t feel morally correct. They were going to punish you for sneaking out, stealing the beer Nanami left in Gojo’s fridge. If it was really so terrible, why were your panties starting to get wet?

You walked over shyly to Gojo. “C’mere” he said patting to his lap as you sat in his lap, “bend over, I’m going to punish you. This is for your own good.” this made you realize how big your size difference between the two men really was. What a turn on.

You look at him and frown “aren’t I a bit old to be spanked, old man?” Your sassy tone came out.

“Listen, missy. You’re not in a position to argue against me. I’m not even that much older than you, bend down now (Name). You are weak compared to me.” Gojo ordered and you obeyed him as you got on top of his lap and bit your lip nervously.

”What a brat.” Nanami commented while watching you struggle.

Once you were leaning over his lap you turned your face to meet Nanami who was sitting on the couch across the one you were on, his eyes look at you with an intrigued expression.

“Hey Nanami, how many should we do?”

‘What did he just say?! Gahh! I really should have kept my mouth shut.’ You thought to yourself.

“How about 10. Make them hard too.”

With that, Gojo lifted up your dress to come over your ass. He examined your panties. “With panties like these no doubt you’re driving Fushiguro wild. Your cute little butt looks damn good in them.” His voice was laced with dominance.

You gave a breathy whine beneath him, greedy to be touched. Classic, a young girl only wanting pleasure and to be a pleasure slut.

“N-no. Not this.” Your voice was frail feeling the sudden embarrassment of the situation.

You let out an ‘Mmph’ as Gojo pulled your panties down, you felt your core become hot. Your princess parts were partially exposed to him like this, which were dripping onto his clothed legs as he looked down in amusement. “She is wet already.” Gojo announced to Nanami.

“Oh really now. I’ve seen the way she’s been acting around us lately, does not surprise me at all. All we did was talk to her and look at her, dripping wet.” Nanami gave a swift response as he picked his beer up from the black marble coffee table beside the couch.

You squirm in your place as Gojo moved his hand to hit your ass, and it was hard. It wasn’t like rough sex with Fushiguro who would slap your ass while doing doggy style, this time it was extremely rough and hurt.

“Ow!” You wince in pain as your voice grew high pitched and forced you into that state of submission. Gojo now earning your submission.

“One. Good little girl, take your punishment just like that. Daddy is so proud of you.”

Did he just say that? Daddy? Oh how that was an ultimate fantasy of yours. Having an older male touch you like this, especially that it was Gojo made your mind break. Being so close to him you could smell him, the scent of his cologne, fresh clothes and even a bit of his body wash. It smelled amazing.

You yelped in pain over and over again, it felt like a lot more than ten. All of these sensations were still just fresh to you so your mind was completely turned off as you entered a state of being hypnotized and your mind completely broken from Gojo.

“Eight…” His voice was cold like ice. He rubbed your ass after hitting it yet again, it was so red and forming little purple and tints of blue marks on both your ass cheeks.

“Wanna be marked by you daddy-“ you beg Gojo falling for him further.

“Aww!” He replied with a chuckle. “Is my baby girl learning some manners and obedience? What a lovely girl to train, listen to daddy.” The white haired man cooed in adoration.

“Nine.”

“Fuck it hurts so much!” You almost yell out. “It hurts so good!”

Nanami let out an “ah” as he finished his beer, placing the empty can back on the marble table.

Once Gojo finally hit that magical number; 10, your legs were shaking. You couldn’t see it but your ass was red and was starting to form a purple mark, a bruise was coming. You wouldn’t forget this.

“I’m sorry Gojo, I’m sorry Nanami. I won’t steal and sneak out ever again.” You cry out as some small tears stream down your eyes from the overload of emotions and sensations.

“You are forgiven, but you still need to take this. We have to ensure the punishment and lesson is clear and that it sticks.” Gojo assured you.

Gojo lifted you off of him and placed you back on the couch as he stood up. “I need to get something, I’ll be back.” He walked out to the hallway of the apartment to what you assumed to be his bedroom.

This peaked your curiosity and Nanami’s, though he had a feeling of what Gojo was up to. Before long he came back holding black rope, it looked like a form of bondage.

“We will take it slow. I think you’d look so pretty with a shibari tie. I’ve always found them quite beautiful. I’m good with my hands.” He snickered with a grin.

Your mouth gaped open in surprise, not sure what to expect. Gojo came over beside you and undid your dress, (favorite color) lacy bra and removed your matching panties. He dropped the bra to the floor, Gojo and Nanami’s eyes were glued to your bare chest. Your nipples were soft and slightly puffy, your cup size was the perfect size. Easy for the men to grope. Gojo gave your tits a squeeze, fondling them before getting the rope out.

He made a pretty tie that wrapped around your tits nicely, it made them pop out a little. It wasn’t too tight and felt rather secure and comfy. He tied it around your waist and your thighs, so there would be easy access to your pussy. He knew what he was doing and seemed to have experience with shibari and ropes in general.

Nanami clapped “very good, now hurry up we don’t have all night.”

“I know you like being a slut so as an award you get to suck my cock. You better do it good.” Nanami ordered you.

“Work has been stressful being a salaryman and now being a Jujutsu sorcerer I am still stressed. Having to work for a living sucks. Give me some release, could use a pretty girl to suck my cock, yeah?” He commanded you and you nodded as you weakly got up, your legs wobbly as you kneeled on the cool floor looking up to the tall blonde man who stood in front of you, you made eye contact. Your big and dolled up eyes looked into his.

He did the work of unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down. He was wearing a black pair of boxer briefs, they fit him well, his toned muscles in his thighs were noticeable as his cock sat perfectly within his boxers, it was truly an exciting sight.

Your heart rate went up, this was amazing. Words couldn’t describe how much of a rush you felt in this moment. Everything you wanted, and more.

“Mm I’m such a lucky girl, I’ve fantasized about this. I’ve always wanted my teachers cock, sir.” You look up to Nanami and he patted your head.

You knew exactly the right words to say too.

“Good girl, be a good student and do this for me. Suck my cock, I’m sure you have some skill with it so let’s see what ya got sexy.” He smirked.

While Gojo was more eccentric and outgoing, Nanami was quiet and more serious. You did have the hots for both of them.

“Of course, I’d be happy to do so.” You grinned in delight as a lewd expression crossed your face.

Gojo wanted to learn about you and what you liked sexually as he watched. You pulled down on Nanami’s boxers with a tug to his ankles. His cock was hard, it made your pussy soaked. You lifted your hand as you held onto his cock with one hand on his shaft lightly, then you licked his tip. Swirling your tongue around Nanami’s tip causing him to let out a small grunt.

Swirling your tongue around Kento’s tip just like those strawberry lollipops you love. Your tongue glided across his slit which had some beads of precum forming. It was so sweet and yummy.

You used your hand to pump his cock a little as Nanami sat back down on the couch and you crawled in between his legs and continued to suck his cock, taking half of his girth now. A little to shy to make eye contact.

Your pussy juices leaked onto the floor, your cunt was so fucking wet dripping. It was so easy for Gojo to work you up like this, even Fushiguro didn’t work you up this much. Gojo took notice of this as he stood up, watching in amusement at the sight of his precious girl sucking Nanami’s cock.

“Does it feel good daddy?” You asked as your spit began to drip down onto your chin, you fondled his balls gently, massaging them lightly and embracing the feeling of touching Nanami’s balls. You tried to take more and more of the older man’s cock in your mouth.

“Is she doing a good job, Nanami?” Gojo asked and Nanami hummed in response.

“Fuck yeah, keep going cumslut. You’re so fucking sexy, baby.”

The taller man Gojo, leaned down and got inbetween your legs, you felt his finger slide against your exposed slit his fingers played with your arousal.

“You won’t be able to wait to see his pussy, Nanami. God so fucking pretty and pink. Your little clit looks so gorgeous.” Gojo’s voice had shifted and become more dark and deep.

You felt his hot breath against your pussy as his tongue glided against your clit ever so delicately, his face right at your private areas. This caused sparks to fly in your body and a feeling of pleasure struck. Greedy to get yourself off on his tongue.

You let out a moan through sucking Nanami’s cock, your cheeks were now a bright red and hot from all of your blushing. This was incredible.

Gojo’s tongue licked the lips of your slit and he used his fingers to spread open your cunt, looking at the hole. It was so tiny, it looked as tight as a virgin.

“Such a tiny hole, you can tell she hasn’t been stretched out yet. She needs some grown men to use her to stretch that cunt out.” He muttered as his tongue dove into your cute hole with ease.

“You taste sweet, so delicious.”

These compliments made butterflies form in your tummy. So good, so good.

You let out a sweet mewl through sucking on Nanami’s big cock. “Mm so good” you moaned as Gojo’s tongue explored the entrance of your soaked hole, making you lose focus on the task at hand.

He licked your clit as he let go and began to press kisses on your inner thighs, trailing those soft kisses up to your clit as he placed a gentle kiss on your clit adding to the stimulation.

You bat your lashes as you looked up to Nanami, who stared down at you with an intense expression - grabbing some of your hair in his hand as a make shift pony tail. You began to deep throat him as you braced yourself to take all of his cock within your mouth as it went down your throat.

“Slutty girl, you little whore. Letting your teacher have his way with you? My dirty girl.” Nanami used his over hand to caress your cheek softly.

“Mhm” you moaned, drool all over you.

Tears felt like they were swelling up in your eyes as you deep throated the man’s not super long but very girthy cock.

“Lucky you’re on birth control, otherwise I would get your womb filled up with cum regardless” Gojo spoke from behind you as his tongue flicked against your button, abusing your clit as you felt yourself indulging in these euphoric pleasures of being eaten out.

“The perfect barely legal and teen breeding slut.” Gojo said outloud and it made you moan and whimper from his words alone.

It was mouth watering and made your cunt drip of all your pussy juices. You could tell Gojo was an expert pussy eater as he knew exactly the right ways to get you begging for more as his tongue teased your wet and glossy lips.

“Fuck! This is even better than how Megumi ate me out.” You cracked as you slightly lifted your head off from Nanami’s cock, drool coming out of your mouth carelessly like nothing else mattered but pleasure.

“Of course it does, sweet pea. I’m a grown man, I’ve learned how to do this.” Gojo replied in a cocky manner followed by a laugh, knowing his tongue was doing wonders for your aching pussy.

Though it made you feel so embarrassed yet so turned on knowing you were probably about to get your pussy filled with cum. It made you even more turned on knowing Nanami was watching all of this.

“Daddy, I wan’ you to fuck me” you whimper out looking up to Nanami needy like the greedy pleasure slut you are, finally letting go of his cock.

You felt yourself approaching your orgasm as you got close to cumming you let out heavy breaths and high pitched lewd noises of pleasure. “Gojo!” You cry out. “I’m gonna cum, s’too good. Fuck, I love when you eat my pussy. Thank you for this!” You moan in ecstasy followed by a series of slutty sounds.

“Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me. Let’s get you all wet for my cock.” He smirked as his tongue glided quickly and flicked against your clit, you mewled in pleasure.

“Ahh m’ cumming!” Your head rested on Nanami’s thigh as your eyes almost rolled back, your mouth wide open with a light furrow on your brows as you came all over your Sensei’s tongue.

White and clear pussy juices leaked from your cunt as Gojo gave a look of satisfaction “little slut” his voice rasps.

“You’re awfully selfish. Your only concern was to get yourself off. Now you’ve left us horny and bothered.” Gojo grabbed you and lifted you up off the ground as he held you in his arms and sat you on the couch beside Nanami, facing him.

Gojo was behind you around the arm of the couch as he forced to spread your legs open to show Nanami your pussy. “Show Nanami your pussy. This is what you’ve been letting that Fushiguro drill? One lucky kid. Such a pretty pussy (Name), let’s teach you what it means to be fucked by a real man.” Gojo’s voice purred as Nanami tilted his head to stare directly at your pussy, licking his lips in hunger.

Kento examined your pink pussy and how tight and small it was, truly the pussy of a young innocent woman who was ready to be corrupted. Gojo and Nanami both knew this was what’s best for you, to teach you your place.

“Soo, who is going to fuck me first?” You innocently asked looking from Nanami to lifting your head back to look up at Gojo, coming down from your high but your pussy still sensitive and ready for cock.

“I’ll be fucking you first, I am your guardian after all. I think it’s my place to discipline my student when needed, besides it’s not like you have a problem with this.”

“Aren’t we going to get in trouble for this?” You asked timidly looking down.

“You’ll keep your mouth shut won’t you? It’s our secret. You’re a young woman now, but I’m still the one who’s in charge of you and your mentor. It’s always important to teach younger sorcerers and educate them properly.” Nanami asked as you nodded your head but inside felt massive uncertainty.

FUCK IT.

You laid back against the couch with a soft cushion behind you supporting your back. Gojo took the time to get in front of you as he lifted his top off and undid his pants, taking them off followed by his boxers which then you were faced with his large cock. He made sure to remove all clothing. His cock was big and hard, you saw that his tip was leaking pre cum.

“I-I’m nervous” you bit your lip.

“What’s wrong? Where’d the tough girl facade go?” Gojo chuckled, mocking you.

“It’s just a cock, no need to be scared.” His voice was sultry, you looked at it as Gojo finished removing all of his clothes so that he was entirely naked infront of your also naked form. Nanami used this time to undo his tie and take his dress shirt off as he watched you.

“Daddy” you whine looking up at Gojo in your drunken state.

You tried to close your legs as Gojo came up in between them and forced you to spread them. “Obey and make this easy for me.”

You complied as you looked down and watched as he placed his cock right against your clit, teasing it as you whimper “I need it, Satoru please.”

You use his name and he flashed you a perverted grin.

“Anything for my babygirl with the best manners.” He lined his cock up with the entrance of your pussy. You continue to stare down with an undying lust-filled expression, an erotic look in your big eyes.

“You love being watched, don’t you? Must turn you on knowing I get to watch this sexy young girl get her pussy used by her teacher.” Nanami pointed out as his cock twitched in his hand, palming himself lightly to edge.

“Yes sir. I’ve wanted your cocks for so long. I love older men like you both, you’re so sexy and can give me all I need.”

You let out a cry as you felt his cock enter you, “oh fuck!” You moaned as Gojo’s cock slowly entered with your tight pussy walls happily welcoming him in. You felt so warm, wet and tight to Gojo. He was going at it missionary.

Gojo’s hands were on your waist using them as support as he entered himself in you all the way, at last feeling his balls brush up against your ass and his cock pressing right up against your cervix. Thank fucking god for birth control otherwise this would certainly get you knocked up with his seed.

“Feels so deep, I can’t take it! Stop it, no more!” You moaned as you grope one of your breasts, squeezing it in your hand.

“Doing okay, sweetie?” Gojo asked and you nodded your head, your vision was still a bit unsteady from being so drunk and out of it.

”I-I guess” you slurred your words. It was a super hot sight for the men to lay their eyes on you in this state.

With that “confirmation” he began to trust in and out of you, the tip of his pretty and shaved cock hitting your cervix, filling your up all the way. Unalike Gojo, Nanami just trimmed his memeber as you glanced over and watched the man and also Jujutsu sourcer slowly stroke himself, though he looked annoyed.

“What are you waiting for?” You asked bitterly and confused wondering why he wasn’t using your mouth.

“I’m going to finish in that hole as well.” Nanami replied to you, you smiled cheekily, happy with his answer.

“Fuck daddy!” You mewl as the wet noises of your pussy being ravished filled the room, wrapping your legs around Gojo’s muscular but lean body pulling him in deeper.

“You’re nothing but insatiable. I want nothing more than to take that little pussy.” Nanami growled as he watched you get fucked.

“You look so pretty taking my cock ya know?” Gojo grunted admiring your tight body.

“I love your cock daddy. Every time I touch myself all I can fantasize about is Gojo and Nanami fucking me. I love it so much.” You whine loudly as you submitted yourself to them.

The smells of sex filled the air, the room smelled purely of lust.

A part of you felt bad about doing this immediately after having sex with Megumi, besides you two were developing a romantic relationship. You tried to push those feelings to the side and focus on the current moment, it’s not like anybody would find out about this, right?

“You don’t need to act like you’re all grown and have everything figured out (Name.)” Nanami started, “it’s completely okay to be young and need some lessons from an adult, just like this.”

Your flushed face nodded your head. “I-I know, I just want to be independent ‘das all. Can’t help that ‘m so needy” you slurred your words.

You were even surprised at yourself with how much you were moaning and letting out these ridiculously slutty noises, your pretty high pitched noises were just like music to both of the men’s ears.

“I’m going to train you to be my slut.” Gojo said looking down at you as he sucked on the skin of your breasts, surely to leave a mark.

“Agh, yes!” You moaned as his tongue swept across your sensitive nipple. Leaking pretty marks and bites all over your chest, your tits bounced with every thrust.

Nanami groped your tit with one hand, playing and squeezing your nipple as you squeak.

“Holy shit, look at her tummy Nanami-“ Gojo groaned as Nanami looked at your tummy. Gojo’s cock was bulging through your tummy, showing how deep he was inside of you and how petite your body was compared to his own.

“Tiny little thing arent you?” Nanami cooed.

“Yes daddy. Mm wish you could knock me up, fucking sucks I’m on birth control. All I’ve wanted is to take it raw.” You moaned.

“That would be sweet wouldn’t it? I could give you my seed and you could raise some good kids for me. Hopefully some strong future sorcerers.” Gojo moaned as you nodded your head in excitement, baby fever was perhaps kicking in a little too hard for your age.

Who fucking cares, you’re drunk and these hot men are all yours. It’s only a natural urge isn’t it.

“Goddamn, this pussy is so tight. Don’t go giving yourself out to other guys, got it?” He barked.

“Daddy my pussy is all yours!” You cry out feeling the sensations of Gojo’s cock hitting your sweet spot right inside of you.

Gojo placed his finger into your mouth, instinctively you began to suck on it. His finger was much bigger than yours. You looked up to his face, you could see a glimpse of his eyes through his sun glasses, which shaded his beautiful light blue orbs.

“Nngh! Why does it feel so good, it’s never felt so good before like this.” Your voice was so innocent, in contrast to that sexy and promiscuous outfit you had prior.

Going out like a grown woman, meeting a guy, you weren’t that at all. You’re here being taught a lesson by Gojo and Nanami, you’re still their submissive student who needed guidance.

“What do you mean princess?” Nanami asked. “Was letting a teenage guy fuck you not doing it for you?” He asked in sincerity, it sounded a lot more rude than his intentions were.

“No, it’s good but Megumi just didn’t have this much experience in pleasuring me. I just feel so good, fuck me hard Gojo.” You whined out loudly needy for more cock.

Gojo’s thrusted harder, his hand reaching down to rub circles on your clit taking you into a state which made you feel like you were lost in paradise. You felt your pussy clench around his cock as you felt yourself approaching an orgasm, god, his dick hit all the right places. It hit repeatedly against your cervix over and over again and your sweet spots. Your womb practically begging for cum and for a baby from him at this point.

Unable to control your body as your legs start shaking and you let out desperate lewd moans.

“Going to cum baby?” Gojo asked and you bit down on your lip hard.

“How did you know?” Your voice asked.

“I can just tell.” He murmurs as he leaned in, you wrapped your arms around his torso as you kissed him. He let his tongue explore your mouth as your lips collide in unison.

You moan throughout the kiss as the sensation of your orgasm filled your body. Your pussy feeling intense waves of pleasure as your juices flowed all on his cock, squeezing him, desperate to be filled with his cum. You could tell you were creaming all over his huge and veiny cock.

Gojo pulled from your kiss as he let out some grunts and a low moan throwing his head back in pleasure. “Fuckkk, just like that Angel. Daddy’s cumming.” Gojo held your legs open as his cock came inside your cunt, deep inside you as his milky liquids pooled in your hole.

“Shit, feels so tight.” He moaned throughout his orgasm, his cock twitching inside of you as it began to throb.

“Such a good girl.” He groaned with a final thrust a you both gave heavy breaths.

You lay back, trying to catch your breath before Gojo pulled out of you. He watched as his semen leaked out of your fertile hole, so pretty. There was a lot of it too.

He gave a satisfied hum “you did a good job at emptying daddy’s balls, my slut.” He praised you as he got out from in between you. Your legs felt a little sore, specifically your hips from stretching them open to give him access to fuck you.

“Thank you, it was so good.” You sighed happily, taking a finger of yours to dip into your cunt, his seed covered your finger as you placed it in your mouth. Sucking on your finger. It was a little salty, with a hint of sweetness, his cum tasted so good.

Your eyes closed momentarily, feeling exhausted. Gojo took a seat back on the couch as he got his boxers back on. Though he was definitely there to watch the show. You were taken out of your relaxation by a voice.

“Get on your hands and knees, bitch.” Nanami ordered with a exuding an aura of dominance.

You turned and lifted your frail body up as you got down on your hands and knees with your ass in the air for Nanami. You were tired but you wanted more cock, you had to take it. You had no choice.

He watched as your hole leaked of Gojo’s cum and wanted to fill you up instead, wanting you all to himself.

“Such a pretty pussy, you must get lots of compliments on how cute your pussy is.” Nanami remarked

“Nnnn, Nanami, sir. Need it so badly.” You whined as you felt your pussy feel even more aroused again. You were soaking onto the couch, chasing another high as you wanted to cum even more, how insatiable and hard to satisfy you were.

“Use your words, speak properly for me, (Name).” Nanami commanded you and you rolled your eyes, luckily neither Gojo or Nanami could see that.

“Pretty please daddy, I need your cock, I wanna feel your cock stretch my little pussy so badly. Pleasure yourself in me, I’m your play thing!” You cry out begging for him and feeling more greedy now than ever.

“Good girl, little one.” Nanami praised as you felt his cock immediately push into your hole with ease, he started off a little slow but built his trusting up quickly and finding a fast pace, sounds of skin smacking filled the room as you felt like a bitch in heat, all that could fill your mind was cock and wanting more of it.

Nanami slapped your already red ass another time, he was a lot more rough and stern than Gojo.

He let out a heavy breath “there’s so much you have to learn about pleasure, I could make you feel good like this anytime.”

“God, your cock is so fucking massive I can hardly take it. You are right at my womb.” Your cervix being hit over and over again by Nanami’s cock, your pussy twitching around it. You arched your back and you felt Nanami pull your hair, tugging it slightly.

“Fuck!” You moaned with a lewd and sexy pitch. Letting out some silly drunk giggles making Gojo lay back on the couch with his arms stretched out leaning on the back of the couch with a proud smirk on his face.

“You are my little sex doll, such a perfect fucktoy.” Nanami hissed as his thrusts were growing sloppy but still going strong and hitting all the right places inside you, all you were focusing on was the pleasure.

“Wish I could get knocked up with your baby Nanami, I’d look so pregnant with your baby in my belly.” You whimper under him.

“You would, absolutely. The perfect breeding slut to carry my children. If you weren’t on birth control, I don’t know if I’d be able to pull out, honestly.” He moans as his cock abuses your tight and young hole.

“God yes, more more.” You beg Nanami as the man begins letting out a series of primal groans, some sweat forming in his hairline and his eyebrows furrow.

You couldn’t see it from your point of view but a sexy expression of absolute enjoyment was on his usually emotionless and blank face.

“You love being watched don’t you (Name)?” Gojo gently asked you and you could only nod in response.

”I love it so much! I love watching my hole get fucked and you watching me while Nanami stretches my pussy.” You confess.

”Aw god, such a dirty slut, I love that.”

“Nanami is such a nurturing man. He is taking care of you, making sure you have water and looking after you while you’re drunk and now punishing you for disobeying rules and disappointing us. Look at you, taking the punishment so well and getting so much pleasure from it. Horny girl.” Gojo teased as you look up to make eye contact with him, your eyes rolled back into your head and your hair was all messy.

“Daddy, I love cock. Thank you for giving me this, I’ve learned my lesson.” You mewled as you replied to Gojo.

“Well, I’m so glad!” He grinned. “Precious girl, you’ll always be my baby okay? I’ll always take authority over you.” Gojo cooed as he caressed your cheek then placing a kiss on your head.

“That’s it.” Nanami gave out a low toned moan while you squeezed around him.

“I’m going to cum, I need you to cum for me princess.” The man who was drilling you ordered, you felt your high approaching too as you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“So close, m’ gonna cum” your voice was unstable as you legs began shaking and your eyes shut tightly. Being ravished felt so good. You felt like falling into a state of enteral bliss.

“God fuck me daddy! I’m cumming for you, you’re making my little pussy feel so good.” Your cunt clenched around the older male’s cock, getting all of your pussy’s sweet arousal and white juices all over it.

Nanami began to cum too as his cum shoots inside of your pussy, right at your cervix with a final thrust followed by heavy breathing.

It felt so warm and comforting as Nanami shot his seed into your fertile hole. You gave a coy smile as he pulled out and watching all of the cum drip out of you, flowing out of your pussy. Your pussy was puffy from all of the stimulation and your folds were soaked with cum.

“Thank you for that.” You mumbled as your body fell onto the couch, crawling over to Nanami to lay on his lap.

You laid against the couch completely dazed at what just happened. How could you possibly believe this was real? It felt like a dream. It was in fact reality.

“Are you both really mad at me?” You mumbled out, feeling needy for aftercare.

Gojo and Nanami both shared a glance. Gojo shrugged. “Ehh, I’m not mad.” He replied full of energy, the man really did have stamina.

“No we are not angry, we both care for you and want you to be safe. Can’t deny that you’re an attractive young woman. There are some bad people out there and curses as well, you can’t always defend yourself.” Nanami spoke as you laid against his chest. You were able to hear his heartbeat which relaxed you, he held your hand and your eyes were growing drowsy.

“I learned my lesson. Thank you both, it was so fun.” You thanked them with a quiet and soft voice.

“It was fun, you’re absolutely welcome. I’ll be expecting to do this again, little one.” Nanami replied as he chuckled from how adorable you were.

Gojo smiled and felt satisfied, “come here, let’s get these ropes off of ya princess.”

You crawled over to Gojo on the couch and he untied all of the ropes you had on letting you free. Finally pulling you into his arms as he hugged you.

“I’m so proud of you. Promise me you’ll always be safe and if you need a drink or something just ask Nanami!” He teased.

“Well if it turns into this I suppose.” Nanami grunted.

You giggled “I promise!”

”And, being safe is important. I was more concerned about your safety than anything, you know how much I love you. I always want to protect my little princess.” Gojo added to his comment trying to ease any tension.

“Will we ever do this again Gojo?” You asked and be nodded his head. “Oh, I’m sure we will.”

You softly smiled happily, feeling a rush of dopamine. You began to feel sleepy as your body was tired from being used, still feeling tipsy.

“I’m going to have to go and call Fushiguro’s dad to tell him his son finally got a girlfriend!” Gojo laughed with a goofy grin and your blush turned into a scowl “No way!” You shriek.

“You know that is not a good idea.” Nanami told him. “It’s too late for this. Let’s get her cleaned up and in bed, we should call it a night too.” Nanami said.

“Good idea.” You responded as they helped you up to get cleaned up and taken care of for the night.

What a night, it was incredible and definitely a learning experience in more ways than one. Feeling content with your new sexual relationship with your teachers and your relationship with Megumi. You took off your makeup, had a nice warm shower to get yourself cleaned up and Gojo helped you into bed.

Nanami ended up sleeping on the couch that night before heading home in the morning.

You couldn’t wait to do that again.

—

It was the following day in the afternoon.

While you were taking the train home from shopping for makeup and some snacks right as you got off the train and began walking back to Jujutsu Tech you heard foot steps behind you, and you noticed a shadow blocking the sunlight from behind you as you turned around and were faced with who you assumed to be Fushiguro Toji, Megumi’s father.

Your eyes were dark and dolled up with makeup, even though there was no class that day you wore your school uniform so it was blatantly obvious it was you.

You looked up at him and made eye contact with him, as you wanted to run back home to the safety of Gojo not knowing the man right before your eyes.

“(Last Name),(Name) is it?” The older man’s deep voice spoke. It wasn’t like Megumi’s silky soft voice, it was deeper and a bit darker.

Megumi was a very calm, kind hearted and loving guy even if he didn’t always show it. The intentions of his father who stood in front of you weren’t clear and this made you feel anxious.

You nodded your head timidly as you were much smaller than this man. Though, you could see where Megumi got his good looks from. He had resemblance to his father.

“Rumour has it, you’re my son’s girlfriend.” He bluntly spoke with an alluring tone, confirming that this was his dad.

“I-I am.” You stutter your response shyly. The relationship wasn’t exactly confirmed but that was the easiest way of putting it.

The warm sun shined down onto you both. Your (color) hair shined under its beams as you were confused to where this was leading.

“Pretty young thing, aren’t you? I see that kid is all grown up now and not so little, becoming a man.” Toji spoke eyeing you up and down like a predator seeking its prey, you blush.

“Ah thank you! It’s nice to meet you, sir.” You blushed nervously, bowing to the man.

“Beautiful body too. I can see he has decent taste in women at least.” He snickered and you raised an eyebrow.

“T-thanks, sir?” You shyly replied sounded clueless.

What the hell was going on? This was too damn strange. Though you couldn’t deny he was a good looking man.

How could you get out of this situation? Did Gojo know about this? How did he find you?

“I’d like to meet with you. Next Friday at 8:30 PM come here,” the man handed you a slip of paper with a location on it as you examined it.

“But what is this?” You asked with caution knowing to be wary.

“It’s an address to a location I’d like to meet you at, cutie. I want to get to know my son’s girlfriend.” He gave you a small yet dark smirk before walking off.

A/N I DO WRITING COMMISSIONS NOW!! PM me for more info.

Happy New Year everyone! Should I make a part two? I have no clue, but if anyone wants one let me know and we can include Toji. This was so fun to write so I really hope someone likes it. Let me know if you liked it, please be nice :”). Comments are appreciated. 💞 ♡ If you want more please tell me and check my AO3 out.

more vi plss!! (and reader is a pillow princess)

SAY IT .vi

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 1.5K

VI (ARCANE) X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - vi calls you exactly what you are, a pillow princess and in efforts to prove her wrong, you only end up proving her right. but that's fine, because that was all she wanted.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, dom!vi, sub!reader, pillow princess!reader, fingering (r.receiving), praise kink, dumbification, dirty talk, alternate universe, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

it started off as a joke.

a simple joke that left your girlfriends lips. you'd been laying on your stomach across the sitting room sofa, words mindlessly falling from both your lips as you flipped through a magazine. she sat man-spreading across the arm chair, controller in hand. you always said she loved her video games more than you, but she'd always deny.

then you heard it, the joke spewing from her lips with a smirk on her face. "yeah, okay, pillow princess."

instantly, your head snapped up from your magazine. your glittery pen that you'd been circling clothing with dropped from your pretty fingers. "i'm not a pillow princess."

vi seemed to sense your distress. she set the controller down as the game conveniently ended. "well, i'm not saying there's anything wrong with it." she leaned back against the armchair, resting her hands behind her head. "i love that you're a pillow princess, believe me."

you wouldn't believe how many times she'd gotten off just by thinking about it. you were so good for her, so responsive. she hardly had to touch you and you were falling apart. sure, she loved watching your head between her thighs as you whimpered into her but there was nothing more she loved than watching you, hearing you. all of it.

you seemed butt hurt by the joke.

but vi swiftly changed the conversation, noticing the furrow of your brow.

vi knew how sensitive you were, how easily you took everything to heart and she didn't want you over thinking this. and her tactics proved right, by five minutes later you were showing her a pretty top you'd spotted on the coloured pages.

you didn't think much of it at first. in fact, for the next while, you didn't think of it at all.

perhaps you had too much in your head to contain so much information, you told vi that was why you talked so much.

it wasn't until vi had you pinned down against the bed, making out with you, that the moment popped into your head again.

you almost shut it out on accident, then it clicked. vi was kissing you deeply, her hands dragged at your hips, pulling and kneading the skin while you passed heavy breaths through your lips, kissing her back just as hard.

and suddenly, you had this urge to prove her wrong.

vi felt you shift, letting you take the lead.

she felt you turn you both over, you landed in her lap and suddenly, she was the one against the bed. her brows shifted in amusement. "what's this, baby?"

you shifted your hair to one side of your head so it didn't get in the way, you weren't really used to things like this. "jus' trying to prove something." you mumbled before reaching down and kissing her lips.

don't get me wrong, vi loved the feeling of you kissing her, whatever way you sat, laid or stood, on top or not. but she couldn't seem to shake the amusement as your mouth left hers, leaving a trail of kisses against her neck. "this have something to do with that joke i made before?"

your lips stopped momentarily at her neck, eyes gazing up. "'m not a pillow princess."

vi didn't understand why you were so adamant about it.

there was no shame in it. on the contrary, she adored it.

"yeah?" her brow cocked and she was looking at you this way that had you nodding, suddenly unable to speak. "y'sure, sweetheart? cause if i remember correctly..." suddenly, you were being flipped over again, beneath her all over again. "you quite like sitting there all pretty 'n taking it."

you could feel her hands trail down past your waist, kneading your thighs in her hands. "v-vi, 'm trying to―" you were cut off by the breath being caught in your throat.

vi's hand had trailed up your skirt, her fingers dancing over your panties. "you're trying to what, sweet girl?" you felt her fingers rub against your clothed clit. "c'mon, use your words f'me."

"vi!" you whined, feeling her fingers against you. she wasn't being fair, you were supposed to take charge but how could you think about anything when she was touching you like that?

a soft laugh left the girls lips as she pushed your panties aside, fingers gentle against your swollen bud. "love it when you whine like that."

you could only look up at her with your tinted hot cheeks.

she began to press gentle kisses against the nape of your neck, fingers trailing down to your hole, she rounded her fingers against you, collecting the trail of your slick across her digits. she made a fake gasp noise. "'n look how wet you are already." she couldn't help but smirk. "good girl."

two single words that set you off every time.

a gasp left your lips as she slipped her two fingers inside you at once. you suddenly moaned with pleasure.

vi was like a drug. every time she touched you, you found yourself addicted, begging and chasing for her to praise you. you'd do anything to please her but luckily for you, that meant just sitting there and taking it. you truly did wish you could be less 'responsive' but vi wouldn't take it any other way. her favourite thing to do was turn you dumb with her mere fingers, maybe even her strap.

your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, feeling her fingers pound against your sopping cunt. "please, vi." you moaned out. "please don't stop."

"yeah? wanna be my good girl again, huh?" nudging your face with her nose, littering kisses on your cheek.

you could only whimper out with a nod. vi had this way of making you feel like you were high on magic. you couldn't help but want her in every way.

"then say it, angel." fingers pumping in and out, embarrassing squelching sounds bounced off each wall of the bedroom. "say you're my pillow princess."

she was met with a mere whine of dissatisfaction from you.

she feigned sympathy with a coo. "awh, i know, baby. my poor girl, jus' so mean, aren't I?" but the girl didn't care much for your whining and whimpering, she'd get you to say it before you came. "but you gotta say it, yeah? don't want me to stop do you?"

you pursed your lips closed. "mm-mm. please don't stop." you practically panted out, you could almost feel frustration build in your water line. "nnghh― please, vi!"

"four words." is all she whispered back, her palm grazed against your clit every time her fingers pounded into your entrance. "know you can say it, pretty girl. jus' need me to make you all dumb, don't you, baby?"

a whimper of her name was the only thing that left your lips, eyes screwing shut.

"close, sweetheart? 's now or never, baby. say it or i'll stop."

the feeling was knotting in your stomach, ready to unravel. you didn't want to but you knew better than to cum without following orders.

so you forced the damned sentence to pass your lips. "'m your pillow princess."

and a coo only fell from the magenta haired girl. "awh, know you are, sweet girl. see? my good girl always listens, doesn't she? huh?" vi tended to ask you questions while knuckles deep in your pussy, she knew you couldn't utter a single word. "you jus' need me to make your poor pussy feel all good, don't you?"

a breathless, "uh-huh." was her answer. "'m close!"

"yeah? gonna be good f'me 'n say please?" of course, vi had to make you beg for it.

"please!" you practically squeaked out as your back arched against the bed.

a chuckle left her lips. "you can do better than that."

and you really, definitely could. but vi had made you all dumb, exactly her plan. "please let me cum, vi. please, need it so bad. please." you repeated the word please in little whispers, unable to hold back the knot in your stomach.

"you're such a good girl, 'course you can cum, baby." she felt your spongy walls suddenly tighten around her fingers. "that's it, sweetheart, cum all over vi's fingers, 's a good girl."

vi pumped her fingers in and out of you, letting you ride out your high like she always did until you were squirming away from her.

she leaned against the bed with a self-loving smirk on her face, hardly glancing your way. you laid next to her, chest falling and rising as you panted out breaths. a beat of silence passed until you spoke up. "vi?" turning your head to her.

"yes, my pillow princess?" she teased.

instantly, a frown fell on your face as you crossed your arms over your chest. she wasn't being fair. "i was gonna say something, now i'm not speaking to you."

"oh, come on." she lifted your face by her thumb to make you look at her again. "no pouting or else i'll have to shut you up all over again."

an idea suddenly fell flat on your head.

your pout deepened.

vi only climbed over you with the smuggest of smirks on her face. "you dirty little slut."

main masterlist/vi's masterlist