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evanpeters-posts · 8 months ago

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AN: This is my first fic on here. Please let me know if you have any suggestions for anything. Thx!

TW: unprotected p in v, weed/smoking, self pleasuring,cuss words and all that good stuff

Wc: 3k

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Warren Lipka, Spencer Reinhard and you are all roommates, living in a small beat up apartment in St. Louise Missouri.

You guys attended a university near by. You've never been fond of your roommates, but the only reason why you live together is because you and Spencer were childhood best friends, your mom and his always wanted you guys together since forever, but you always found him to be like a brother, more than a partner, and that you couldn't afford to live by yourself. Warren came into the picture because that was, Spencers friend, and that he felt pressured into housing him when his mom kicked him out for smoking too much weed, and not having a job. Warren has a small little set up of a "room" in the small compact living room, that was the size of an actual bedroom. His so called bed, was a rugged 80's couch that was a hand down from my mother.

It was a cold winter evening, you drove home from class in your beater car. It Was a cold drive home because the A/C was no longer functional. After an agonizing ride home came to an end, you park on the side of the road of where your apartment complex was at then you head out the car, grabbing your belongings with you. You arrive at the door shuffling though your messy backpack. You become frustrated looking for the keys to your apartment. You never found the time to place them in your key ring attached to your car keys.

"Fuck!" You said while you continuously scramble through your bag. You groan and knock on the door.

You wait to hear any response. You knock again, becoming more eager to come in from the blistering cold. "Hey! Warren I know you're inside! Let me in!" You shout while knocking in between your pleas. You hear footsteps coming your way though the other side.

"What's the password." You heard a familiar annoying tone, muffled behind the door.

You groan an roll your eyes, stomping your foot. "Warren, open the fucking door! I'm freezing my ass off!" You say knocking harder. The door swings open, You jump back slightly startled with the sudden door swing. You see, Warren with a blunt in between his soft pink lips, no shirt and just gray sweatpants on.

"That wasn't the password." He said, grabbing the roll and taking it off of his lips.

"Warren, let me in. I'm fucking freezing my tits off."

"Yeah?" He said looking down at you hugging your breasts together to warm yourself, unfortunately forming a strong cleavage line. You look down, blushing. You groan and push though him to enter your way in. "No thank you?"

"Leave me alone, Warren. You're being annoying." You said plopping your bag in the hallway, by the door. You walk to the counter and spot your house keys sitting where you usually put it. You let out a dramatic groan seeing them and then snatching them into your cold hands.

"Oh yeah by the way, you forgot your keys." Warren said teasingly, while he sat down on the couch with a lighter in his other free hand, flicking the track to light up the blunt between his lips.

You walk over and smack the back of his head. "Thanks for telling me fuck face"

He looks at you and takes a puff of his lit roll, while rubbing the back for his now tender head. "You're welcome, Princess."

You rolled your eyes at the comment but also feeling a slight fight of butterflies set off in your core from the name. You grunt annoyed with him and you storm into your room, slamming the door behind you.

You throw yourself onto the bed, starring at the ceiling. You hear a knock on the door. "Come in." the door opens and a familiar face pops in. "H-hey Y/n." Spencer comes in, gently closing the door behind himself. "So how was class?" He said sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. "It was alight i guess... i forgot my keys and your piece of shit friend was basically gonna kill me by leaving me out in the cold." You said with a snicker. He smiles and lets out a small laugh. "Yeah he's the one to do that." Spencer rubs the back of his neck looking down. "Y-Y/N.. i just wanted to let you know I'm gonna leave out of town tomorrow and wont be back till a week.. So that means you're going to be stuck with Warren-.. And i know you aren't the worlds biggest fan of hi-.." you shot up from the bed. "WHAT?! No way are you leaving me here with that dipshit!"

Spencer shushes you. "Please Y/N.. i know you don't care for him, but I can't take him with me."

You groan. "Well it wouldn't even be an issue if he didn't fucking live here!" You shouted.

"Y/N I'm sorry, I really am. I honestly felt bad for him." He sighed and stood up from the bed. "Look..ill talk to him one of these days okay?.." he walks towards the door, opening it up half way and stoping i his tracks. "Good night Y/N.."

He closed the door behind him.

'I can't believe I'm spending my winter break with this dickwad.' You thought to yourself. You kick off your shoes on the side of the bed and you curl up in a ball under the sheets, closing your eyes wanting the day just to be over with.

You shift in bed, hiding under the soft sheets you fell asleep with. You hear the door creak making you slightly annoyed. All of a sudden you feel the sheets immediately be ripped of you. You gasp and turned around, seeing it was your piss ass roommate, Warren. He had a cheeky grin holding the blanket tossed over his shoulder, seeing he was still shirtless, with the slight sheen of the sun peering though the jagged blinds, shedding light on his soft toned body. "Hey whore, i need to borrow the car. Spencer took the car so i need to use yours." He said.

Something in you just went off and you shot up onto your feet and stood in front of him. "Listen here you punk!" You poke his chest. "You will not boss me around or make a fool of me! You hear me?!" You said still poking him and standing on the tips of your toes. He smirks and drops your blanket on the floor, putting his hands in the air defensively. "Okay." Warren said, turning around and leaving your room, without closing the door. You stand there feeling stupid and you cross your arms and scoffed. "Fuck you too." You mumbled under your breath.

You sigh and throw your blanket back on the bed. You gather your things and head to the shower.

After your well needed shower, you head to your bedroom and rummage though your drawers to find a clean tee. You found your oversized Pink Floyd prism tee shirt. You pair it up with some small black lace up panties and some shorts to cover them.

Once you were finished with all your self care, you went to the living room to find your blockhead of a roommate smoking out of your bong. You walk up to him, shoving him off of it, sending him to a coughing fit. You sit in his warm spot he was once in, pulling the lighter from his hands, you light it up to the glass. You take a big rip off of it, letting out a big O ring of smoke to his face. He waves his hand though the blown ring, fanning its shape into just smoke, he finishes his coughing fit. "What the fuck Y/N?" He lets off another cough then to clear his throat after. "You took my fucking bong, Dipshit. So i get dibs."

You said lighting it up again. He gives a smirk. "You know if you would've been a good girl and said please, then maybe I would've let you take a hit," he said while moving the hair away from your face while you take a hit from the bong. You couldn't help but blush deeply at what he said and the act of him moving your damp hair. "After all, its my bud." He said with a smug smirk.

You sit back and look over at him, he leans forward and scoots the bong his way about to recreate what you did. "So..why did you need my car, asshole?" You said looking over at him. He pulls away from the glass wand. He lets out some rings and leans back, staring up at the ceiling. "To pick up a girl." He said. You couldn't help but to smack him on the shoulder. "Ow!" He said chuckling. "I'm just kidding short stuff, I wanted to get some milk for my Coco Pebbles." You roll your eyes and slide the glass your way. "Whatever, I'm not letting you touch my car, let alone my bong." You said but then realizing that your lips had been touching where his was and it gave you a jolt in your core, also giving you butterflies in your stomach.

You feel yourself become more hazy from the cannabis. You look over at Warren as he's focused on playing a game on the TV. You start to admire the way his soft brown honey hair lays perfectly on his structured face. The way he bites his lip when he's concentrating, the light stubble on his face, and oh the way he looks into your eyes..oh shit he's looking into your eyes. "Hellooooo." He said waving his hand in front of your face. You snap out of it. "You were staring at me, weirdo." Warren said with a soft chuckle. You instantly turn red all over. You stand up from the couch with a slight wobble. "I-I'm.. I'm gonna go back to my room." You said heading back to your room and slamming the door.

You felt so embarrassed, but so turned on. Smoking always made you feel full of lust and horny. You sit on the side if your bed with your knees pried together, looking down biting the inside of your cheek drawing shapes on your thighs with your fingers, contemplating if you wanted to play with yourself. It almost felt wrong but.. felt so right. You grabbed your floral pattern vibrator from the side table beside your bed. You click it on letting it buzz in the air before moving it to your core.

You shimmy out of your shorts but still left for panties on. You press the buzzing sensation against your cute bunch of nerves, tossing your head back, you let out some soft moans. One hand is on your side gripping onto the sheets, knees spread apart from each other and your mouth agape. You lightly start grinding against vibrator, letting small mewls fill the room. The thought of Warren slipped into your brain. You scrunch your face together feeling guilty, but thinking of him felt so good, It makes you core drip more for him. "F-fuck..Warren.." you whispered. Or.. at least you thought you did

"Yes?" You heard peering out your door. You launch forward and instantly throw the blanket over your lower body, still the vibrator buzzing away. "WARREN!" You shouted in fear. "I heard some noises and my name, so i thought maybe you were in trouble or something." He said with a shit eating grin, leaning against the door frame. You scatter to turn off the vibrator, looking flustered you turn to face his way with tears welling up in your eyes. He tilts his head and walks slowly by your bedside. "Y/n... are you crying?" He sat at the side of your bed placing his big warm hand on your covered knee. You cover your face to hide away the embarrassment and the tears drowning out your face. "Hey.." Warren leans forward towards you, prying your hands away from your face, reviling you soft flushed cheeks that was dowsed in sour tears. He looked into your hopeless eyes, using the pads of this thumbs to wipe away your tears. His selfless service made your lip quiver and sniffle more, feeling the stinging sensation of heavy tears coming down. You hiccup between cries hugging your knees to your chest. "It's okay beautiful... I'm not upset." Warren said pulling you into his arms and you lay against his chest, listening to his heart thump you found your heart beating fast at the name he called you. He caresses your soft shoulder and positions you sitting sideways on his lap, with his big warm hand resting on your thigh and his other hand on your lower back. He looked into your eyes with his dark chocolate colored eyes, with a soft gleam to his face he looks you up and down. You hide your face into the crook of his neck while tossing your arms slumped over his shoulders. He rubs your lower back making his way to under your shirt, caressing mindless shapes.

"I'm s-such a fucking loser." You cried softly. "No your not, princess. You were just needy..."

You feel butterflies bubble in your stomach and your lower core. "You know i can fix that."

He moves his hand higher to my upper thigh. You let out a shuttered breath, grabbing the back of his hair and gently squeezing your hands into a light fist. You hear his breath hitch. "Would you like for me to help you?" He said rubbing his thumb against the hem of your panties. You feel your core aching and wet, you squeeze your thighs together to calm down the waves of neediness between your thighs. He moves his left hand from your thigh and moved it to your head that is still over his shoulder,he grabs your chin and guides you to face him. "Princess? Did you hear me?" He said lightly dragging his thumb on the bottom of your lip. He looks you up and down and leans into your lips with his. Your lips meet his and he gives gentle and soft kisses against your plump pink lips. You let out a soft whimper putting your hand against his chest. He pulls away with a smirk and rubs your thigh. "Well?" He said. You bite your lip, thinking about it, even though you knew you wanted him so bad. You nod your head, looking him up and down. Warren shakes his head making a clicking his tongue to a tisk sound. "You need to use your words." He said with a soft smirk curled onto his lips. "I-i need you warren.. So bad.." you said turning red in the face. "Good girl." He said in a velvety tone, with a huge grin plastered upon his face.

He flips you into the bed with your back touching the soft sheets, he hovers over your fragile body, his arms by both side of your shoulders , he leans down to nibble on your neck, leaving a soft trail of peppered kisses. You let out an airy whine, feeling your cunt dripping in ecstasy. He removes your shirt then leaving soft kisses down to your chest taking one of your perky nipples into his warm soft mouth, he licks it to a swirling motion then suckles on it gently. He looks up at you with his devious pleading eyes, letting out a vibrant moan.

He pulls of with a pop sound after it, wrapping both on his index fingers to a hook to pull down your lacey black panties. You lift your bum to help remove the soaked piece of fabric. He smirks at you holding the clump of drenched cloth in his hand. "Were you this wet for me?" He said so teasingly. You feel your cheeks tingle and turn red, like you already weren't red enough. "U-uhm.. maybe?"

He lets out a gentle chuckle and shakes his head, dropping the panties to the ground. Kneeling onto the carpeted floor, he props your legs up over his shoulders, he kisses along your thighs closer to the center. He swipes his finger from the entrance of your weeping cunt to the glorious bundle of nerves. "So wet." He leans forward and licks a stripe up with the flat of his tongue, flicking your clit. You arch your back in pleasure letting out a dirty moan. He suckled on your button and he put a finger inside of your entrance, soon entering another finger. He curls his fingers up against your silk walls. Your legs jolt and shake in sensation, craving for more than his fingers. The pace fastens, making you feel a tight knot in the core of your center. "Warren..fuck.."

He pulls his mouth away from your swollen bud, he licks him lips and smiles. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He stands up hovering over you, he leans over your ear. "You want me don't you?" You could hear the shit eating grin in his tone. He nibbles on your ear waiting for an answer. "Warren.. please.. i need you in me." You said nearly out of breath.

"Done.." he said pulling away.

He pulls his grey sweats down, pooling around his ankles, he steps over them. Then pulling off his boxers. His member springs up from the weight of his boxers being pulled off, reliving the ache of being withheld. You widened your eyes to see he was huge and Girthy. 'He has to be over 7 inches' you said to yourself in utter shock. He grabs your legs and holds them up and under his arms. He rubs his tip against your bud, you let out a whimper in eager for him. He smirks and lines his cock up with your entrance, he slowly presses into you. You winced in pain, feeling how thick and full it was filling you in, your toes curl and you ball your fists with the sheets in your grasp. "F-fuck!" You said holding your breath feeling every inch fill you. "Breath, baby." Warren said with a velvety tone. You let air out though your mouth and as you did, Warren slammed the rest into you making you gasp audibly. Once he was bottomed out he starts to gently thrust in and out. He grabs your ankles and pulls them up more, leaning against each thrust. As he thrusts he's mesmerized with how your tits bounce with each movement. He places his thumb against your clit and circles it in rotation. Your head is tossed back, mouth agape and eyes rolled back.

It all hit so quickly, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten and that friction come to a huge wave that's about to wash over you. "Warren.. i-I'm gonna cum." He picks up his pace and continues to stimulate your sensitive little bundle.

You let out a corny porn star moan while cumming hard on his cock, not long after your release you feel his white thick ropes fill you up in the inside. You see his head tossed back, making cheap and non rhythmic thrusts to ride out his high.

"F-fuck.. your pussy is so good." Warren said leaning forward, beads of sweat roll of his forehead down to his rosy red face,his long curly hair sticking to his framed face. Out of breath, he pulls out with a string of cum pulling away from inside you. You feel the cold air hit your beaten, swollen cunt. Warren crashes right next to you on the bed.

You look at each other and smile deeply. He moves your hair from your face to behind your ear. "You're so hot.." he said looking at your eyes then lips. You smile pulling him into a deep kiss. You look into each other's eyes then to turn around to your night stand, grabbing your car keys and turned back around, plopping it on his bare chest. "Go get some milk.. i want some Coco pebbles too."

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Tag list: @evansonlylove

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evanpeters-posts · 10 months ago

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he said "u up" but Dostoevsky said,

"…she tortures me, tortures me with her love… In the past it was only that infernal body of hers that tortured me, but now I've taken all her soul into my soul and through her I've become a man."

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evanpeters-posts · 10 months ago

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You’re not that good a liar Pt. 1

Kai Anderson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW! Masturbation, slight Voyeurism, Kai things.

This is part 1 of my long awaited pregnancy fic! There will likely be at least a few more parts released but I really wanted to at least get this out to you all after such a long wait. Thank you for your patience. I’m excited about this one and I hope you all like it! 🥹

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You found yourself hunched over the cold porcelain of the toilet seat, tightly gripping a pregnancy test in your trembling hands, nervously awaiting its verdict. Nausea swirled in your gut, along with the daunting prospect of motherhood. It was a notion you hadn’t dwelled on before, buried under the weight of college midterms and mounting debts. How could you possibly manage a child, let alone provide for one? How had life led you to this moment? Memories surged back, to a time of innocence before Kai, before being drawn into his cult.

It all began with Winter, a familiar face from your college English class. She was more of a study partner than a close friend, the kind you’d team up with for assignments and occasionally chat with between classes. During the final stretch of the school semester, you and Winter agreed to collaborate on a particularly challenging essay. It seemed like a straightforward arrangement—just a couple of students pooling their knowledge to tackle an academic task.

After class, you headed to Winter's place to work on the assignment together. Seated on her bed, you both delved into the essay until you needed a bathroom break. Following Winter's directions, you made your way past the kitchen toward the bathroom. It was there that you spotted him – a tall, oddly attractive man with greasy blue hair, popping prescription pills into his mouth like tictacs. Winter had never mentioned a boyfriend, though your conversations rarely strayed from homework. As you passed, his piercing stare followed, sending a chill down your spine.

"You never mentioned you had a boyfriend," you had teased, slipping back onto her bed. Winter glanced up from her laptop, a puzzled expression briefly crossing her features before she reached a realization.

"What? Oh, you mean Kai? Ew! That freak with the ugly blue mop on his head is my brother," she replied with a mixture of amusement and revulsion.

“Oh, my bad,” you laughed sheepishly, feeling a blush creep up your neck. “Not to make things weirder, but your brother’s kinda hot,” you added with a half-hearted joke, attempting to lighten the awkward atmosphere as you turned back to your laptop, prepared to get back to your essay.

"Ew, no way," Winter wrinkled her nose in mock horror. "I would rather discuss this stupid essay than talk about Kai. Seriously, he's not someone you want to get to know," she insisted, the distaste evident in her voice as you both refocused on the task at hand.

The hours slipped by as you worked diligently on your shared assignment, the rhythm of typing and occasional murmured discussions filling the room. What was supposed to be a brief study session stretched into the evening, with Winter slowly starting to nod off as darkness enveloped the world outside.

With a tired yawn, Winter suggested you stay the night to avoid driving while tired. You agreed, grateful for her offer and too drained from studying to consider driving home.

As you shut off your laptop, Winter had already drifted off to sleep beside you on her bed, her soft breaths a gentle melody in the quiet room. Deciding to make one final trip to the bathroom before calling it a night, you quietly slipped off her bed and padded down the hallway, the carpet soft beneath your feet. Just before reaching the bathroom door, you heard a low, guttural groan to your right. You paused for a moment in confusion. Another groan, more intense this time, reverberated through the hallway, beckoning you closer. Slowly, you tiptoed towards the source of the sound, your breath catching in your throat as you reached a cracked door. Without knowing why, you pushed it open ever so slightly, just enough to peer inside, curiosity getting the best of you. But curiosity killed the cat, and you should have known better.

There, sprawled out on his bed, was Winter’s brother, Kai, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through his bedroom window. His bright blue hair, tousled and unkempt, stuck to his forehead in sweaty strands. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples, tracing the contours of his face, his features contorted in a mixture of pleasure and concentration. He held his large cock in his hand with a grip so tight his knuckles were white. His swollen tip glistened with precum as his hand stroked quickly with practiced precision. Your heart raced in a similar rhythm. His eyes were squeezed shut in rapture, his lips parted as he let out a series of ragged moans that echoed through the room, the same ones that you had overheard moments ago.

You stood there, unable to peel your eyes away from the scene unfolding before you. Mentally, you knew you needed to turn away, to pretend you’d never seen it, but physically, you were paralyzed by the sheer shock of it all. He was such a sight to behold—his tousled blue hair clinging to his forehead, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, his hips rocking with desperation. You couldn't tear your gaze away as his hand moved with urgency.

“Agh- fuck,” He hissed through gritted teeth as his toes curled involuntarily, his entire being consumed by the overwhelming need for release. His room was filled with the sound of his heavy breathing, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing off the walls. His balls bounced and slapped against his skin with each desperate stroke. Every muscle in his body tensed and flexed with anticipation. Kai’s hips lifted off the bed desperately, his body moving in perfect harmony with the rhythm of his hand. His breath hitched in his throat, his lips parting in silent moans of pleasure. Kai was undeniably a work of art, and you were a sick admirer.

Then, those dark eyes snapped open, which bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart stop in pure panic. You recoiled as realization hit you like a brick, your mind racing with thoughts of escape. Had he seen you? Could he tell you’d been watching? With trembling hands, you hurried to the bathroom, locking the door behind you with a shaky click. The hallway was shrouded in darkness, offering a slim hope that maybe your spying had gone unnoticed.

As you leaned against the bathroom door, the weight of guilt settled heavily on your shoulders. You couldn't shake the feeling of shame, the knowledge that you had crossed a line you couldn't uncross. Surely, you hadn't just witnessed your classmate's brother jerking himself off. Surely, you hadn’t stood there and watched like some voyeuristic creep.

Fuck… fuck… fuck!

You sat on the toilet and took a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic pounding of your heart as you concocted an excuse to salvage the situation. Maybe you could blame it on being half-asleep? No, that excuse sounded feeble even in your own mind. You’d have to face reality if Kai caught you, own up to your mistake, and hope for the best. After all, it wasn’t your fault he left the door cracked open, right? You were just an innocent bystander who happened to stumble upon an unexpected scene.

As you flushed the toilet and washed your trembling hands, you couldn’t shake the feeling of dread gnawing at your insides. Your heart raced, your palms already slick with sweat, as you finally mustered the courage to open the bathroom door. But as you took a hesitant step forward, you were met with an unexpected obstacle—a tall, imposing figure blocking your path.

Kai loomed over you, his blue hair soaked in sweat cascading around his face as he fixed you with a piercing gaze. Panic surged through you as you realized that he knew, that there was no hiding from the truth now. Your mind raced with a million thoughts, each more frantic than the last. What would you tell him? How could you explain your presence without sounding like a complete creep? You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out, your mind a jumbled mess of excuses and apologies. You were well and truly fucked. Before you could utter a single word, Kai’s voice cut through the silence,

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you, just need to take a piss. I never got the chance to introduce myself to you, by the way. My name’s Kai, I’m Winters older brother,” He stated with a friendly but somewhat sinister smile, reaching his hand out for you to shake. You stood there, dumbfounded, as his words registered in your mind. He hadn't noticed? He really hadn't noticed you peeking? Relief flooded through you, washing away the waves of panic that had threatened to drown you moments before. You hastily shook his outstretched hand, the warmth and stickiness of his grip a harsh reminder of his previous activities. You suppressed a shudder of disgust, not wanting to push your luck.

"N-nice to meet you," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to regain your composure. You were terrible at saving face. "Sorry, I'll get out of your way." With a clumsy step to the side, you made room for Kai to pass, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you avoided his gaze.

Kai didn't seem to notice your discomfort, stepping into the bathroom without a second thought. You let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through you as you turned to make your escape. But before you could take a single step, Kai's voice cut through the air, freezing you in place.

"Oh, and by the way," he called out, his tone smug and self-assured, "if you want to join me next time, just ask, doll." With a sly grin, he shut the bathroom door behind him.

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🤭🤭🤭

tags: @fear-is-truth @fuckedbykai @taintandviolent @ghostlyviolet @articlesofalise @bean-is-reading @redvelvettsunflower @violet1737 @charmed-asylum @evanpeters-posts @nascargirl88 @evan4ever @alittlesil @floralhuqzz

i forgot who all wanted to be tagged so if you want to be in my tag list lmk!

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evanpeters-posts · 11 months ago

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Roses are Red; Violets are Blue - ,, yandere pre-death Tate

cw(s): yandere themes, suggestive themes, mention of cocaine, Tates actions (the lighting of a human on fire & a school shooting) a/n: Tate is aged up here and is in college instead of high school. He dies at age twenty-one instead of seventeen, because it feels weird to write an older teen as a romantic yandere. Mentions of Violet— she's eighteen and a senior in high school.

✧ You both grew up together, sort of. You were always someone Tate could never talk to. He was a bit too scared to speak with you. You just seemed so perfect, and he was not. You moved into his neighborhood when you both were much younger. His hellish 'mother' didn't like your family for a reason; he never quite paid attention. It was something about you all not being holy enough. About how you were going to corrupt her perfect golden son. There was nothing you taught Tate about himself that he wasn't bound to figure out. He learned about boners after peeping through your window one night while you were changing after a shower. He learned the true meaning of the words 'I love you' after he overheard you speaking of how excited you were for the new Nirvana album. You even taught him how to follow people and not get caught by that person or the authorities. All this, and he still hadn't had a proper conversation with you yet.

✧ You legally started your friendship relationship sometime early in your freshman year, on October 30th, 1991. It was just something else that made him fall head over heels once again for you. He was having an already shitty day when some athletic losers began bullying him. He was getting pushed around for the umpteenth time this week when he tried to fight back. He got knocked on his ass and a nose that was both broken and remarkably bloody. You rushed over and offered to help him. He brushed you off and was a bit snappy; he still regrets that to this day. He just didn't want you to see how desperate he was for your attention. He craved your touch. If it weren't for all the blood on his face, you would have easily noticed how flushed his face was from just being in your vicinity.

✧ You offered to take him to the nurses office, and he 'begrudgingly' agreed. He was bouncing on his heels in his mind, and he swears that his nose bleed got worse. You even offered to help him walk there if he was dizzy, and naturally, he leaned on you. He even took a whiff of your scent near your neck. He had to resist nuzzling into you because you just felt so warm, like home. Like a home he never had. He asked you to stay even after the nurse said you could go back to class. He'd made up some lame excuse about you being a witness and him having to report it. Such a fucking lie. None of the administrators would give a shit. Everyone in this godforsaken college is an adult. So 'bullying' doesn't exist, apparently. At least the college is near both of your houses.

✧ That's the best part. This is your first real interaction, and you are already inviting him over. You feel bad that his nose got sprained and that the nurse had to reset it. So you—

'Oh my god, you called me cute!? You said you saw me around the neighborhood all these years and were too shy to talk to me. You've always been so shy. You've always been someone who needed someone to take care of you. You'd take care of me so well. We could happily take care of each other. Wait, sorry. I'm rambling too much. Iris, get back with the headcanons before I go on about them for another three hours.'

Made sure that he didn't get left alone. You heard from around the neighborhood that his mother is kind of nuts. So you thought he would be the same, but he's actually kind of awkward and distant, and sweet. You two spent the entire night together and ended up having a sleepover. Tate likes it a lot more when the sleepovers are consensual and not him climbing through your window, crawling into your bed, cuddling into you, then leaving you right before you wake.

✧ Something you have to know about Tate is that he is undeniably a pervert. Constance ruined any chance he ever had to take a girl out on a date. Then, when his casual interest turned into an obsession, he was able to sneak out without alerting her. So just being around you makes his mind run wild and his hands perspire. He steals your undergarments the most—it doesn't matter what they are. It could be anything from a lacy bra to a pair of men's boxers. He always steals your oldest items because your scent is ingrained into their very fabrics. He hides the items he 'borrows' from you in a box behind a brick in the basement. He goes down there every night and inhales your heavenly scent. His eyes roll back in his head, and suddenly he has a problem that he has to take care of.

✧ That's not where his perverted nature ends, either. He suddenly became very interested in photography. He buys a secret camera to use whenever he 'sees' you. Whenever he watches you when you aren't aware. He takes photos of you doing the most mundane things: exercising, cooking, working on homework, walking, breathing, and blinking. He also takes photos of you while sleeping, getting out of the shower, stretching, and wearing those skimpy little clothes of yours. It makes his mouth water fervently. The photos quickly pile up. He keeps the physical photos in the same box behind the same removed brick.

✧ He buys you more pretty clothes. Most of them are revealing, but you seem to like that. At least that's what he's seen in you in your private life. Of course, you don't know they are from him. He's too insecure for that. So he wraps them up all nice and pretty and leaves them on your bed. He always writes down 'your secret admirer' on the packaging. He opens your window when you and your family are gone and leaves them then. If he is feeling more confident, then he'll open your window and put the package on the floor. You start locking your window after that. So he's constantly breaking the lock on your window. When the family gets the police involved, he gets extremely upset. He begins to ignore you, so you know exactly how he feels when you ignore his gifts and say it's from some 'creepy stalker'.

✧ You are understandably confused when one of your closest friends begins ignoring you. You think he might be scared of the fact that you have a stalker. It makes you desperate. You don't want to be left alone. You need your friend. That makes Tate all giddy inside. He gets to stay near you whenever he wants. As much as he pleases? You seem so scared of some hypothetical boogeyman. It's just sweet ole' him! Not that you know that. He understands, though. He'd be pretty upset if some random man started doing the things he's doing for you. No other man could be as devoted to you as he is.

✧ Slowly, the number of your friends and close family dwindles. Each of your friends either cuts contact with you or disappears altogether. Now, now, Tate has put so much effort into this for you. It wasn't easy. It wasn't something he could pull off on his own. He had to scrounge around for as much money as he could to hire a hitman on several occasions. He stole the money from his mother's various rich and fleeting boyfriends. She would use them up soon enough anyway. So there's no reason for him to care about their financial well-being. Besides, he is doing it for a noble cause—a war is yet to come.

✧ He takes a different approach when it comes to isolating you from your family members. He will get along well with your family. Insert himself as a shy, college kid that lives down the street and is best friends with their child—their only friend, really. His mother picks up on this and is immediately displeased. Of course she has only scratched the surface of the iceberg that is Tates twisted delight.

"As long as you don't fuck that godless slut, I suppose you can be around them."

He wanted to snap his mother's neck right then and there. Lucky for her, he had other plans. He inserts himself into every facet of your family's life. He slowly learns the skeletons in your family members closets. Did you know your cousin once had a lewd dream about your partner? Did you know your grandfather cheated on his spouse not once but twice? Did you know your Aunt once tried to poison you? Did you know? Did you know? Did you know?

Some of those may have been slightly exaggerated or entirely made up, but you completely trust him, so what is there to worry about?

Soon enough the only one you trust is Tate.

✧ You connect the dots somewhat, but at this point, you don't quite care. You just want this stalker to stop. You just want Tate. When Tate learns his feelings are somewhat reciprocated, the stalkings become less frequent. After all, if he is always allowed to be around you, then he doesn't have to stalk you anymore.

✧ He starts giving you love notes after the two of you begin dating. The stalker fades into the background, and suddenly only Tate is there. He is perfect for you. He is your dream boyfriend. He writes these cheesy and poetic letters about his adoration for you. Some of them are creepy—really creepy. You can look over that, though. It's just Tate being Tate. He was never confident enough to share them with you while he was just your 'creepy stalker'. Now he gives them to you freely. Sometimes they are just little doodles. Other times, they are cheesy words. Occasionally, they do have a tendency to get a bit violent.

'Me & U 4ever.' '1+1=Let Me Fuck You Up' 'Love you more than Kurt Cobain' 'Let's go to a music festival and have fun~ ;)' 'Wanna sneak out later when your parents aren't home?' 'Is that bitch bothering you again?' 'Commit arson?' 'The thoughts are back.' 'Need you' 'I just want to keep you in my pocket and then lock you in a cage that only I have the key to for all eternity.'

✧ Everything was perfect until it wasn't. For some reason, you started distancing yourself from him. You had found a new friend group. You had found someone more healthy than Tate. Tate's hold on you was beginning to crumble. It was like he was trying to hold your disintegrating heart in his hands. You weren't spending every single moment with him. Whether this was actually happening or if this was just his paranoia is unknown. It got to him, though. It got to him worse than anything else could.

✧ He lost it one day. He snapped. It was a comment that his mother's new boyfriend made. Well, multiple comments. He found a secret collection of your things. He had done a bit of digging and began to learn just how unhinged his girlfriend's son was. Instead of immediately reporting him to the police, he confronted Tate instead. He threatened him with calling the police. He said that he was going to tell everyone about how much of a freak Tate was. He was going to tell Tates, dear mommy, that her golden child was actually a depraved, perverted loser who got off on stalking his partner.

✧ He needed to be gone. That was the one thing that ran through his mind. They had gotten into a screaming match that night. Luckily, no one was home except them and the ghosts. The energy was charged and electrified. The Murder House had set its sights on its next victim, and it was more than eager to swallow him whole. The devil in his mind didn't whisper any longer; he shouted. He spoke in a loud and commanding tone and told Tate exactly what to do and when to do it. How to win your affection back.

✧ He snorted a line of cocaine and grabbed his rifle and some gasoline. He lit that fucker up at his work. He was no longer his mother's boyfriend. He was just a charred corpse. He had one problem taken care of. Now, just one more stop—your college, our college. He needed to get rid of those little friends of yours. So, he did. Every single one of them he shot dead in front of you. He looked you straight in the eyes and pointed the barrel at your head. There was no restraint or morality in his hazel eyes. There was only darkness—a certain unhinged spark you had only seen in fleeting moments. Now it was a mighty flame, and it was coming to burn everything you knew to the ground.

✧ He made you beg for your life. He made you like it. He took you right there at that table and acted like it meant nothing. He kissed you deeply and dug his fingers into your living flesh. He knew it would be the last time he would have you in such a way—as long as he was living anyway. You were covered in bite marks and his residue by the time the cops came.

You heard the next day that they shot him multiple times. You had mixed feelings. They had asked you if he had your consent. You said yes. They didn't believe you. You didn't like that. You didn't like that you liked it so much. You hated yourself for it. You couldn't help but admire the marks he left on you. They were like pieces of art. They'll fade, but the feeling of his fingertips ghosting your body in the most intimate manner won't.

✧ He gets extremely lonely; boredom overtakes him. He still has that box filled with your things, so he's always going through it. It's almost sadistically hilarious. He started with only his fantasies, and now they are the only thing he has again. At least he now knows what your skin feels like and how you taste. You have those things to keep him company. Not to mention, some of your clothes still smell like you. They're his comfort items. If any entity in the house tries to touch them, he will have an immediate meltdown. So, they've all learned to leave him alone when he's having his private time—his fantasies of you, him frenzily groping the cloth like it were your own soft, tender, plush flesh.

✧ He was surprised when you came to visit the house once again. Tate revealed himself immediately and hung on to you needily. He peppered kisses all over your face and neck. He was so unbelievably relieved by the fact that you forgave him. You promised to visit again and again over the years. It made his soul soar; he almost feared that he had passed onto heaven and that you were only an illusion in his mind. You both did what you always did. You seemed cautious at first, but some part of you just stuck with Tate.

✧ Many seasons passed, and you visited him less and less. You moved on to better and greater things in your life than him. He isn't exactly sure what happened to you. You just stopped visiting him one day. The entire house became a lot more frigid and foreboding after that. There would be no heavy make-out sessions that left the both of you breathless. There would be no more late nights spent talking about everything and anything going on in the world. There would be no seeing your age, your beautiful face, and your figure known only to his mind. There would be none of that. Only him. All alone...

✧ Now, after all these years, he admires a girl who reminds him of his first love. Those tendrils of obsessive ectasy sneak into his heart once again as he hears her name, Violet. It was like the world had regained its color—well, a singular color. One fact about you rang in his mind over and over like a never-ending church bell as he watched the new family move in.

"Oh, my favorite color? It's Violet, silly."

.ೃ࿐ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- .ೃ࿐

⟿ taglist: @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @cxndiedvi0lets @doll3tt33 @lacucarachapisser @t4telangd0ns1ut @etheral-moon @evanpetersmybf @evanpeters-posts @fear-is-truth

.ೃ࿐ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- .ೃ࿐

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evanpeters-posts · 11 months ago

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So sweet

so beautiful

love that for us

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evanpeters-posts · 11 months ago

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❝ Sometimes when I look into your eyes I pretend you're mine all the damn time. ❞

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evanpeters-posts · 11 months ago

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thinking about James March blindfolding you before he plays with you because he loves the way you whimper and flinch at the slightest touch

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evanpeters-posts · 11 months ago

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okay, guys! I made an ahs discord server, it's called Hallways of Cortez! it's still kind of under construction, but please! join and have fun. 8)

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evanpeters-posts · 11 months ago

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How did I miss this masterpiece 😫

deflowering ; James March x virgin!Reader

{requested by anonymous} summary: 7k words! after a little dancing, more than a little champagne, you decide to take James March up on his offer of going up to one of the new rooms of the Hotel Cortez, to break them in, as it were. Little does he know, he's about to break you in, too. w a r n i n g s: virgin!reader (adult), mentions of alcohol, rough sex, explicit descriptions, canon divergence, rough sex, thigh riding, cunnilingus, blowjobs, aggression, use of 'daddy', dom themes.

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @kaissweetlamb / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @petersevans / @yesdevineruler / @enchanting-evan / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake/ @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @evanpetersfansblog / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @nova-kayne67 / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny

It was the twenty-third of August, 1926, and you had just finished your second glass of champagne in the Hotel Cortez. Usually, you never drank this much, but it was a celebration after all. Some fellow named James Patrick March had finally completed the arduous construction of his new hotel and tonight was the opening night. Crowds had flocked to the entrance, dressed to the nines and all eagerly craning their necks for a peek at the glamorous inside. Those who weren’t explicitly invited were turned away by the doorman in his starched uniform.

You, of course — you’d been invited by your friend’s friend’s friend and when you showed up in a beaded, green dress and the mink stole your mother had given you four birthdays ago, you waltzed right through those doors without a single question. You looked like you belonged here as much as the group of actresses that walked in before you. The moment you entered, the hotel stole a gasp from your lips, dazzling you with its prestige and innovation.

It had been toted as “an overly ambitious project” and you could certainly attest to that. Mr. March, whomever he was, had written a particular aesthetic into the design of his hotel and from the hexagonal patterned carpets to the ornately panelled gold walls, everything fit the opulent theme. The Blue Parrot Lounge was a name you’d heard whispered several times, waiters coming down the curved staircases with trays full of delicate champagne flutes. You learned shortly after that the bar was on the second floor and overlooked the entire hotel lobby.

But downstairs in that lobby, a band was set up, their instruments exhaling the liveliest melody you’d heard in ages. Easily, they persuaded the masses to kick their heels up. The grand chandelier above your head twinkled like your own personal galaxy, shimmering every time you moved. In fact, everything twinkled. You felt ebullient, as light as a cloud, and didn’t have a care in the world.

There had been a brief pause where Mr. March welcomed everyone to his Hotel in his dangerously cordial way, making a show of popping champagne. Everyone applauded, congratulated and then quickly dispersed, eager to return to the complementary libations. You’d eagerly taken to the dance floor and quickly found a partner in a jazzy white suit. He had blonde hair, sharp, chiseled features and deep green eyes - handsome enough. You two paired alright, enjoying each other’s lively moves.

He’d clearly been drinking more than you, judging by the way he slurred his compliments to you, dabbing nervously at the sheen of sweat that decorated his forehead. After an hour or so of dancing, your feet were sore and your curious nature had wrapped its tendrils around your throat, ordering you to investigate the rest of the hotel.

A server held another glittering tray of champagne high above everyone’s heads, and you snatched one as he passed you, hurriedly bringing it to your mouth. The effervescent liquid tickled the bow of your lips, the tiny bubbles popping as you sucked in a delicate mouthful. You dabbed at the corner of your mouth with your middle finger, trying not to gulp too loud.

As the song changed, the band racing into another upbeat melody, you swung your shoulder around, prepared to sink deeper into the hallways. Instead, you nearly collided with a broad shoulder. “Oooh! ‘Pardon me!”

“Mm.”

You recognised him right away. In the wicked and honest parts of your brain, you were thrilled that, of all people, you’d bumped into him. During his speech, all the women were staring with illicit gazes and hungry tongues. You’d mapped the direction of their eyes as they scanned along his face, and down his body as they openly and dissolutely lusted after him. The audible whispers that scattered the room when he cracked open the champagne, allowing the fizzy stream to spray into his mouth would’ve been laughable if you hadn’t been one of the whisperers.

He seemed slightly less personable now, almost curt in nature. Something about the dismissive way he’d flashed his brows at you as if he was annoyed sparked a fire in your curiosity. He was too handsome to let slip through your fingers, and surely, there must be a reason for his clipped response. You gulped down a mouthful and cleared your throat.

“Say, aren’t you Mr. March?” You asked coyly, knowing full well who he was.

He stopped then, like he’d been challenged to a duel, and with a slight bow, turned gracefully on his toes. To him, it was a challenge. You hadn’t run off with your tail between your legs, offended by his sternness, and that was a challenge for conversation, for flirtations and perhaps… indulging himself.

“Indeed I am. Enjoying yourself?” He eyed the half-empty glass in your tiny little hand, taking note that it clearly wasn’t your first.

“Oh, very much so. This is a ssswell party, Mr. March.”

“Splendid! And please,” He took your hand in his, pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Call me James.”

You cooed in acknowledgment, watching him from the rim of your glass. He lingered for a little too long and you would’ve bet your last penny that you saw his nostrils flare slightly as he inhaled a deep breath of your scent. After a moment, James straightened up, keeping a firm grip on your hand.

He had indeed; you were sweet, like a delicate pastry with the slightest hint of fruitiness underneath. There were notes of a perfume, floral, something moderately expensive — surely, something you’d saved up all your pocket change for. The way your eyes glimmered awoke a deep hunger within his core. He’d play with this.

“Tell me, my dear. Can you dance?” He asked.

The moment you said you could, he’d wrapped your slender arm around his forearm, holding onto it tightly as he towed you back towards the dance floor. Thank god your mother had insisted you learn how to dance properly. And thank heavens your friend, whom Mother detested, taught you how to dance improperly. Mother had always said these new trend dances were for immoral and loose women, but when James March insisted you dance the Charleston with him, you’d never been gladder for immorality in your life.

Keeping a tight hold on your hand, he swung you out into the clearing. With his fee hand, he made a quick gesture to the band. They responded by starting up the familiar melody, and James stepped to your side, lifting his brows in a silent confirmation that you were as ready as you looked. You gave him a short nod, and you both took one step backwards, beginning the shuffling motions.

His feet moved quick to the rhythm; behind and in front of each other, his heels kicking out to the side. All things considered, you made a worthy partner, keeping up with his lively, bobbing movements. Your hands were at your waist, fingers splayed out, swishing from side to side. You both leaned forward in unison and sent your right heels up into the air. The moment you straightened up again was when you realised that a small crowd had gathered in the lobby of the Hotel Cortez and all of their eyes were on the two of you. Everyone was watching as you two masterfully stepped the Charleston and you felt like a celebrity, a performer with the most handsome partner.

There was one woman in particular, a gorgeous brunette gal, who looked on with narrowed eyes. James stepped in front of your line of sight, flashing a villainously personable smile, and spun you back to his side. Though he wouldn’t dare voice it, the beginning twitches of an erection had his cock stirring in his pants. You were delectable and lively, something he’d take great pleasure in snatching away from you. All the more arousing that she hasn’t the slightest clue….

As the song ended, you couldn’t help but dissolve into a fit of giddy laughter, falling backwards into his chest. You couldn’t be sure, but as his arms enclosed around you, you thought you heard a syrupy laugh deep in his throat. Both of you were tuckered out, chests heaving, a misting of sweat covering your décolleté and his forehead. After a moment in his strong arms — ooooh, his arms — he brought a handkerchief from a pocket, dabbing his forehead gently. Modest applause peppered the crowd, along with a few glad compliments.

“I don’t mean offence by this, but…” You swallowed, wetting your throat. “I didn’t think you could dance like that!”

“I’m full of surprises.” He answered.

James swooped around you, circling you predatorily. His fingers ghosted over the back of your neck, sending a convulsive shiver down your spine.

You two locked eyes then, staring wordlessly. Both of you unable to ignore the need, the pulling draw, the hunger to touch each other. It was the sort of gaze that started rumours. His tongue scraped along the roof of his mouth, longing to taste the churning arousal between your legs. He knew it was there, told plainly by the way you fiddled with the hem of your neckline, nervously, trying to placate your own licentious thoughts.

“Beautiful hotel, really.” You finally whispered.

“Allow me to show you the best room in the house.” His eyes flashed to yours, sensing the apprehension. You rolled your shoulders inward, prepped to decline as politely as you could.

“Oh now, now… no need to be shy. I’m a gentleman first and foremost.”

“I don’t know if your lady friend will enjoy that…” You retorted.

“You are the only lady in my company.” He assured.

You gazed behind him one more time and met eyes with her — an action you’d immediately regretted. Her gaze was as comforting as a jail cell, and her full lips were pulled into a tight, frustrated line that held back a myriad of hatred. You opened your mouth to speak, but a forefinger was pressed hurriedly into your cupids bow, shushing you quickly. He looked down at you, brows furrowed in disapproval.

“Now, now. Shh. I’d hate to have to cut out your tongue, my dear. I had plans for it later.”

Your brows pulled together, eyes displaying nothing but sheer confusion. What on Earth did he mean by that? Either of those things? You were too afraid to broach the question, partly in fear that the answer would’ve frightened you, or worse, aroused you.

As though he read your mind, heard your innermost thoughts, he added quickly: “If you want to find out what… well, you’ll have to follow me first, my dear. Shall you?”

He extended his hand to you, palm up.

Against your better judgement and without thinking a second more about the repercussions, you took it and managed to squeak: “To the moon, James.”

When you glanced over his shoulder a final time, that woman watched you as he led you away, that tumultuous anger burning in her eyes. Something about her piercing gaze sent a shiver down your spine. She looked innocent enough, but underneath the done-up exterior, there was a cruelness, a hostility that you wanted nothing to do with. You hurried your steps, pinning yourself closer to James.

The journey took longer than you expected as every few moments, he was stopped by a hotel guest and congratulated. Everyone from stuffy elderly couples to actors you recognised from pictures all wanted to shake hands with the man that had created “the hotel of the century”. You hung on his arm, politely silent, offering agreeing nods and kind smiles when they’d look at you. They must’ve assumed, of course, that you two were an item, and for that brief, fleeting moment, you were thrilled by the idea.

Once he’d pushed open the door, allowing room for you to walk in, you realised that the room he’d led you into was the room he’d cracked the champagne in — except it had been expertly cleaned within a few hours. There were no crowds, no remnants, no sounds aside from a pair of breaths; yours and his. Although, if you listened hard enough, you thought you heard the dull, muted music from below. It sounded hazy and slower up here in this room.

The lock clicked into place and James had you in his arms, his face buried in your neck, his pencil-thin moustache tickling the sensitive flesh under your jaw. He whispered seductive words of veneration into the nape of your neck, praising your appearance between breaths and tastes of your salty flesh.

“Forgive my eagerness,” he whispered into your ear, before nipping at your skin. “I find you… irresistible.”

Delighted by the sensations, your lids fluttered. You extended your neck to him, allowing more. He kissed your neck over and over again and began sucking too hard in certain spots. You let out the tiniest little hums of discomfort, trying to stretch away from him then. However, somewhere deep in your core, you craved that pain, the burn of his suckling kisses.

“I want you to kiss me.” He declared, finally pulling away to gaze upon your face, like he was studying it. “Kiss me, but don’t hold back. I want to feel your passion.”

You nodded quickly, feigning all the courage in the world. Nervous? Who, me? Never! Your lips clashed together as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself as close to him as you could. His mouth parted, allowing his tongue out to swirl around yours, and you could taste the champagne that lingered on it like a fading memory. He deepened the kiss, moving further into your mouth and all you could do was moan into his. Silly girl, he must’ve thought.

His hand left your side, trailing further down. With a cruel tug, James yanked your stocking from its front clip, tearing a generous hole in the nylon, then repeated the process with the other. You broke the kiss to watch this fiery display of arousal in awe, feeling a new, unfamiliar fire in your stomach. You’d been aroused before — hell, even pleasured yourself shyly under the sheets… but the hunger. The hunger that clawed at your insides with reckless abandon was speaking in a foreign tongue… but it was one that you wanted to translate into physicality.

“Oooh, easy tiger…”

His fingers splayed out over your now bare thighs, exploring the smooth skin ravenously. As he neared your centre slit, he snarled in response — whether intentionally responding to the animalistic nickname you’d given him, or because he’d felt the slippery nectar dripping from between your legs, you couldn’t know. You thought it might be the latter. You hoped it was.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you to wobble forward with want. He made a beeline to the nearby alcohol cart that had been arranged near the door and poured amber liquid into one of the glasses and golden champagne into another. He brought the darker coloured one to his lips.

“Mmm…” He growled as he swallowed, locking eyes with you, walking confidently towards the nearby chair. Though his head was turned away from his destination, he didn’t stumble, just gracefully sunk down into the chaise lounge without spilling a drop of his precious liquor.

You were in awe of this man’s finesse, of his charm, and the adoration for him displayed all over your cheeks. You didn’t need to bring out your compact to know that the flush had travelled down your neck, and your pretty little doe-eyes were as wide as saucers. He set the glass of champagne down on a nearby end table, presumably where it would stay until you reached for it.

“What’s underneath that ravishing dress, hm?” He asked. You gathered your lips to one side in a coy expression.

“Let’s see,” you tittered. "My bra and my knickers. And…. A pair of torn stockings and shoes, if you’re a specifics kinda’ guy…” You knew he was.

He waited.

You raised your brows, cocking your head to the side in affirmation — that was all. You were a woman of style after all. In this outfit? You wouldn’t be caught dead in a corset or a slip. Besides, corsets were for stuffy old broads nowadays. Everyone was wearing bras.

“Take it all off. Everything but the dress.”

Surely, the dress would be the first thing to go? It was an odd request, even for your virgin experience. You’d heard stories of men and their covetous desires. The idea of keeping the biggest article of clothing on seemed unorthodox, but you weren’t about to question his demands.

Obediently, you bent down and undid the buckles of your shoes, stepping out of them carefully. With a shy bat of your lashes, you turned away from him, shimmying and shrugging out of the straps of your dress until they fell into the crooks of your arms. Reaching around behind your back, you unlatched the satin bra, letting your supple breasts spring free of the compression.

Your heart pounded as you bent down again to slide the satin underwear over the curve of your ass and down your equally satiny thighs, giving the man behind you the tiniest previews of what was to come. Facing him again, you held your dress at your chest, carefully sliding the straps back up your arms one by one.

With a drink in one hand, the other stretched over the back of the loveseat and a delightedly smug expression, James watched your undergarments fall to the floor piece by piece. His cock throbbed in his pants, the thick fabric doing a damned good job at keeping the beast at bay. Free of everything, your dress hung a little different now, and his black eyes were aflame with the realisation. You swayed back and forth, the strands of sequins brushing lightly against your thighs.

As you bent down one final time, reaching for the nylons, came his voice. “Leave those.”

After a small sip, he pat his thigh twice with his free hand; the sound of his palm snapping against the taut fabric atop his thigh echoed in the room. For a brief, insecure second, you were frozen. A deer in the headlights. Except the headlights weren’t headlights, they were the eyes of the hungriest tiger you’d ever seen and you’d already succumbed to your fate the moment he locked the door.

“Come to daddy.”

You shuddered in response, your tummy doing backflips like an acrobat in a circus act. His words held such command and purpose, you had no choice but to saunter over to him, swaying your hips a little more than you usually did. He seemed to enjoy that; a tiny smirk played out over his mouth.You pressed your knees against his, struggling to not come undone at the contact. With a deep breath, you manoeuvred yourself in between his parted legs.

“Good…” He replied. “Atop my thigh, my pet.”

With your flesh turning a deep shade of red, you walked over his thigh, resting one knee on the edge of the cushion. You felt the air on your cunt, the chill of the room touching the wetness and making it tingle. You looked down at his groin. The fabric was pulled taut. You could make out the faintest outline of a swelling cock underneath —

You snapped your attention back to him, embarrassed. He downed the rest of his drink, set it carelessly on the table next to your still-full champagne and lifted his hand to your legs. The pad of his middle finger caressed the back of your knee, sending a shockwave through your entire body. No man had ever touched you like that, the sensation was erotic and overwhelming to your core. Inch by inch, his fingers trailed higher.

You reached for the champagne, and despite the sting in your nose, you downed the entire glass, setting it back on the small table.

“Lower.” He commanded, amused.

You obeyed, bending your knees.

“Lower.” He repeated.

He’d lined it up perfectly; James pressed that same finger into your slit as you lowered, wiggling it further in, then flicking it up to your clit. You let out a shrill mewl. Your knees nearly buckled as he circled the bundle of nerves, bringing the sensitivity higher. You squeezed your eyes shut as hot, salty tears bit at the corners. Your muscles had begun to quiver, overwhelmed by the strain of hovering over his thigh. His skilful fingers manipulated your cunt, simply playing with your wetness.

James abruptly yanked you all the way down, forcing you into a straddle. Your cunt was spread, pressed tight against his thigh and you needed no instruction on what to do next.

“Ooooh,” he growled, watching your hips as they ground your weeping cunt against the expensive fabric of his suit pants. “Good girl. Your desire is intoxicating… show me how much you want me…. yes.”

James chuckled, knowingly. Despite your best effort in trying to suppress your moans, he saw through the act. The skin of your neck had flushed red. Your soft jaw hung slack, tiny little moans floating out every time he touched you. Your sweet little eyes rolled back into your head every time he so much as flexed his thigh muscle. He knew the effect he had on you. Every slight movement from him ground against your cunt, sending shuddering waves of heat into your core.

“I said,” he started, gripping your jaw hard between his thumb and pointer finger. “Show me how much you want it, my dear.”

You winced, but allowed instinct to kick in. You began bobbing up and down on his thigh, whimpering as the wet spot on the fabric spread. The slick glistened on the fibres as you ground back and forth. Eventually, the friction of dry against wet lessened, and you found a rhythm, bouncing. His leg bumped into your sensitive, aching clit over and over again.

As you rode his thigh, James gripped your dress at the shoulders, kissing up along the curves of your arm. There was a warmth on your skin, a tugging, though you were too deep in the sensations to pull away. A cacophony of ticking began; tiny beads scattered across the floor, bouncing and dancing into crevices where they’d never be found again.

When you finally glanced down, a look of shock painted across your features. Your dress had been ripped at the seams, the delicately beaded fabric now hanging limply at your hips in a mass. James looked on, adoringly, his hungry, inky eyes dancing over your exposed breasts, and the way your nipples had hardened in the slightly colder air.

“What’s wrong, my dear? Are you frightened?” He asked. The lilt in his question was too revealing, but alas, who was he to deny the delicious aroma of fear?

“Who me?” You laughed breathily, like a fool. Sweat pooled in the hollows of your collarbone. No time like the present, you thought. You’d reached the point of no return, and surely if you didn’t say something now, he’d find out when he took you. “Oh, no, it’s just that… I’ve never been with a man is all.”

The realisation swept across his face, the expression telling all the tales of how he felt about being the first man to have a woman. “Aaahhh…. And do you…. wish to be…?”

“With you?” You swatted the air dismissively. “More than anything.”

“Brave. Brave girl.” With that, he scooped you up in his strong arms, and got up from the chair. You wrapped your legs around his torso as he carried you effortlessly to the table. The journey was short, and before you knew it, your bare back was laid on cool wood. Your legs hung off the edge, and with one strong yank, James pulled the tattered dress from your hips, tossing it heedlessly behind him.

“Knees up — heels on the table.” He then ordered, sternly. Pulling your knees towards your chest, you adjusted yourself on the table and swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable. Short of hearing the snap of latex gloves, you were left feeling like you were about to be examined by a doctor.

James disappeared from your view then, sinking down below the edge of the table. With nothing to look at, you gazed up at the ceiling with wide eyes, anticipating the next move. When it came, you let out a yelp, your legs closing on either side of his head. James had pressed his lips against her, peppering little kisses against your centre, and after a moment or two of that, opened his mouth to slip his tongue deliberately along the folds. The sensation of his tongue darting out to taste you was enough to send you to the moon, but he continued, delving further into you. Your legs opened again, exposing more of your aching cunt to him.

You felt his nose press into the mound of flesh as he flattened his tongue on your clit, lapping at it hungrily. Your body responded by squirming, a desperate whimper pouring from your throat. His hands were suddenly on your pillowy thighs, holding you tight where you were. With a vibrating groan, his tongue abruptly changed techniques; he began flicking the tip of his tongue into the underside of your clit. Your moans - though they were teetering on the edge of screams — bounced off the walls of the empty room.

In a delirium of ecstasy, you’d gripped the hair at the crown of his head, pulling it hard. He grunted into your pussy, sending vibrations deep into your core. His hand came down on the side of your ass with a resounding slap. You shuddered violently, your sopping cunt clenching tight against his chin, wetting it as your first orgasm came in sudden waves. James slipped his tongue deep inside of your entrance, feeling the pulses as they gradually subsided. Before pulling away to look at the flower in front of him, and what he’d done to it, he let out a throaty, pleased growl. A small puddle had formed on the table, your slick arousal leaking from the hole like sweet nectar dripped from the centre of a fruit.

“Ahhh…” he exhaled. “Divine.”

His eyes darting to the side, James made a mental note to have Miss Evers re-polish the table. After this, it would certainly need it.

The way he gazed upon you, seemingly satisfied with just how wet you were drove your head into the table with a thunk. You arched your back with a whimper, somehow still unsatisfied. From the side, came his voice. “Use your words, my darling.”

Your eyes snapped open, startled that you hadn’t heard him move around. You swallowed, looking up at him piteously. For a moment you dug deep into your own mind, battling with coherency to find the correct words. And, disappointingly, all you could muster was: “I… want more.”

“Yes….. yes, you do.”

Gently, with two fingers, James pulled your jaw towards him, moving your head so that your cheek laid against the table. There was a certain predatory nature in his gaze as he looked at you. “Open up,” he demanded, his thumb prodding your lips. “That’s my girl…”

He smeared his thumb along your warm, strong tongue, depressing it and feeling around the rest of your mouth. He glided over your smooth teeth, digging the fleshy pad into the decently sharp points of your incisors.

“Don’t bite me… too hard.”

With that, he began unbuckling his trousers with one hand, sliding the belt from its loop. You watched intently as this handsome, charming stranger handled himself; taking himself out his undergarments and his trousers, roughly adjusting his cock so that it was free for your devouring. He closed his hand along the length, pumping it several times. A generous droplet of precum leaked from the red, sweating tip and before it had time to string away, he guided his cock to your mouth.

He smeared your lips over the head, coating it in his own dripping seed. His hips then bucked the length into your mouth, bringing a whimpering gag from deep within your throat. Gentle, he thought. With the way your mouth eagerly worked him, doing your best to suck and lap at his aching cock, that thought was whisked away seconds later.

Wet sounds filled the room as James fucked your pretty little mouth, your lipstick smearing waxy, blood-coloured streaks on the shaft of his cock. In your peripheral, it was quite a gruesome sight, but he seemed to enjoy it, tilting his head to watch.

You closed your lips around the tip as it slid out, letting your tongue flatten on the underside of it. You felt every throbbing vein, but every time your tongue or lips grazed that one, the protruding one, James making sounds that you’d only ever dreamed of hearing a man make. It was a breathy, higher pitched moan, or a choking gasp, and each time he did, the corners of your lips curled up into a smile, delighted with eroticism. You pressed your tongue hard into it, sliding it up and down. From this angle, you realised, you couldn’t do much else… but perhaps that’s how he’d wanted it.

You remembered his previous mention of biting, so thinking that it was something he favoured, you began toying with his sensitivity by grading your teeth along his shaft. He hissed, ceasing his thrusts to crane his neck back, revelling in the amalgam of pain and pleasure.

“Harder,” he demanded.

You furrowed your brows in concern, daunted by the new territory that lay ahead. You closed your mouth a little more, the ridges of your teeth gently clamping down on his swollen cock. Suddenly, James gripped your face hard, squeezing your cheeks together like a fish. You winced as he leaned forward to hiss in your open mouth, his demeanour suddenly callous and dreadful. “I said not too hard.”

He released it sharply as you did, and punishingly bucked his hips into your wanting mouth. His thrusts were quick, and marvelled at the tiny, pathetic gags that broke from your throat every time he hit the back of it. You were so delicate, but so… willing.

Suddenly, he pulled his cock from your lips with a sick, filthy slurping sound, and holding it in his right hand, moved back to the head of the table. His breaths were ragged, hungry. You blinked away the tears that had accumulated.

“You nearly ruined my makeup…” You whispered, wiping the slimy collection of drool and precum from your chin.

“I’ll do more than that.” Gripping you at the knees, James yanked you down the table’s length, your ass slipping easily against the polished wood.

Briefly, you felt the velvety hot tip of his cock teasing your cunt. He slid it between your wet folds, exhaling loudly at the slickness that greeted him. He teased you with a thrust of his hips, the tip of his head slipping slightly. You whined as he pulled away.

“What did I say about words?”

Like a toddler throwing a tantrum, you moaned shakily, gritting your teeth. “Don’t do that…”

“Do what?”

“Tease me…”

“Oh, but it’s fun. I’ll do so until you beg for it.”

“PLEASE!” You howled a moment later, taking fistfuls of his shirt and yanking him closer. You wiggled your hips at his groin, your cunt trying to find his cock desperately. You writhed around like a cat in heat, whimpering and leaking more cum onto his expensive mahogany table. In one of your hip sways, the hot tip brushed past your entrance, leaving a springy line of pre-cum in its path. In response, you rocked your hips against his, trying to pull him in further. The sensation had you gasping, rolling your head from side to side. “Please, please, please, I simply mu—

Your screams faded away into the back of his mind, dull and muted like they came from behind a brick wall. James watched your lewd, begging performance with a bemused smirk, chuckling through closed lips. Every anguished whimper, every desperate plea that his lack of action brought forward from your lips seemed to send you closer to the edge of madness. He enjoyed that. Too much, perhaps.

He reached up, running a single finger down the side of your neck, pausing to feel your pulse throbbing away beneath the skin. Such liveliness, such… James swallowed, suppressing the dark sludgy desire that clawed at his insides. His urges had been worse and worse lately, and now with the hotel open… Not now… not with her.

“What do I need to say?”

“Nothing more.” James took hold of his cock, stroking his fingers over the tip, dragging the slickness along his shaft. He exhaled, lining himself up. At first, James popped only the tip in and out, playing with his food. Each thrust, he slipped a little farther in. Out of the kindness of his heart, James was gradually getting you used to the feeling of fullness, but once he felt your slick walls, he grit his teeth. He had told you that he was a gentleman first and foremost, but… such is life. He swiftly sank his hard length into you with little friction. You were soaked and all it took was one determined thrust.

For a moment, you felt nothing but a searing pain as the thickness of his cock stretched your cunt wide open. Tears welled in your eyes, a cry bouncing against your rolled lips. The stinging was replaced with a dull ache, and finally, a warmth.

“My, my…” He admired. “Taking it so well already.”

You nodded feebly, doing your best to muster a smile amidst your punishing euphoria. Had you not been as wet as you were, it would’ve been excruciating. And when he started pounding, it almost was.

James must’ve sensed your discomfort because he brought his hand to your pussy, his thumb circling your clit. Mercilessly. You cried out like a wounded animal and that seemed to only drive him to continue, stroking his finger down length of your pussy before returning his attention back to the bundle of nerves. Your hips swayed back and forth on the table, desperately trying to get away from the pressure that was blossoming deep within your cunt, just above your bladder. It felt like a tangled mess of fire, and your whole centre was aflame.

You shakily lifted your head, watching as his pelvis smashed into yours, over and over again, his cock slipping easily from your aching, drenched cunt. Your hands climbed his torso. You fiddled with the buttons until his shirt hung open lifelessly, like two ghosts on either side of his body. He moaned as your fingertips explored his stomach, his ribcage, and then curled around the small of his back, forcing their way up underneath the restraint of his clothes. You felt uneven skin, the way that flesh raised once it had healed over deep lacerations.

James suddenly picked up speed, drilling into you harder and that released something in you. You felt devious, immoral, and wanted to howl like a banshee. In fact, you did. You let out a shrill, dirty moan, the kind you heard coming from those brothels as you passed them by. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes before streaming down your temples, disappearing into the hair that laid on the table. Your fingers flexed, nails digging into his back and leaving crescent-moon shaped indentations amongst his scars. Feeling your clenching, he growled and lolled his head back in ecstasy.

You pulled your leg up, pressing your nylon-covered toe against his jawline and gave it a little push.

You heard his breath hitch.

You pushed harder, craning his neck off to the side. His moan said more than any words could’ve. With a devious smirk, you drug your toe down the length of his throat, pressing hard into his windpipe.

James jerked his hips harder and harder until you felt his cock twitch inside you, hot and angry, the first spurt of his orgasm planted deep inside you. He then backed his hips out slightly, just enough for the thick ropes of cum to cover your cunt. His cock bumped into your clit with tiny thrusts, forcing every last milky drop onto you. James straightened up, clenching his fists tightly.

“Ravished. Deflowered. Desecrated!” His words echoed loudly off the walls.

His arms came down with a loud thud on either side of your head, his shirt acting as blinders. There was nothing else in that moment; just you and him and the way he’d claimed you, taken every ounce of innocence you had left.

His hands traced along your collarbone, up the sides of your neck. The black thoughts wormed into his brain, screaming for sating attention. Which weapon would he use? Where he'd cut first - an artery? Arterial blood was always so… satisfying. Would her screams be as such? The final moment, the look in her eye? Perhaps, he could hear those desperate, soprano shrieks if he just…

Thunk-thunk-thunk.

Your lids peeled open, one by one. The blazing light that filtered in through the crack in the deep red curtains burned. You hardly remembered being in a hotel room… alone, and the hotel room you remembered wasn’t the one you were in now. This one looked more or less like any new hotel room that you could’t afford. Moving yourself into an upright position, you let out a depressed bleat… the headache. How much champagne did you have last night? You couldn’t remember.

Sleepily rubbing your eyes, you stumbled towards the door. “Just a minute!”

You were completely nude. That wouldn’t do to answer the door in. Panicked, you looked around the empty hotel room, considering the bed sheets for a moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a Praising the gods for the robe that had been hung on a hook by the door as you slipped your arms into it and hurriedly tied it round your waist. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the framed photo near the door; your hair was a wreck, makeup smeared, and there were the faintest whispers of new bruises along your collarbone and neck.

The doorway was empty, as was the hallway.

Except for the box at the floor.

Despite giving a complete stranger your virginity last night, you had more sense than to bend down and open a foreign box. Clutching the robe at your chest, you began gingerly prying open the edge of it with your foot, wiggling your big toe underneath the fine cardboard until the lid popped off.

Inside, carefully arranged and wrapped in delicate pink tissue paper, laid a dress; a dress that was terribly similar to your own, but considerably more expensive. Atop it, a package of fine silk nylons. And atop those, in exquisitely elegant penmanship, a handwritten note lay. It read:

Thank you for a splendid evening, my dear. My deepest apologies about your dress — please accept this as a replacement. As for the flowers, it only seemed fair, considering the circumstances.

xoxo James P. March

You picked the box up, again checking the hallway to see if the deliverer was there. Still, empty. With a sigh, you shut the door, leaning against it. As you leaned there, holding the box in your arms, the corner of it digging into the middle of your neck, you winced at a sudden pang of soreness.

Your eyes drifted to the clock on the nightstand. “Nearly noon!? Oh, RATS!”

You pushed yourself off the door and changed hurriedly, throwing the robe off your shoulders and onto the floor. Mother! Mother would be furious and nothing was more terrifying than her rage. You’d rather be chopped up and filleted than have to deal with Mother’s anger, even as an adult. You pulled the nylons up as far as they could go without clips, and snatched the mink stole off the bed.

You threw open the heavy door and turned to your left, hoping for the best. You began running as quickly as you could down the lengthy hallway, barefoot. The straps of your shoes were hooked around your middle finger. With no markers, and no indication of where you were going, anxiety climbed your throat. Somehow though, after winding back and forth and up and down for what felt like hours, you managed to find the lobby.

As you emerged from the hallway, it was considerably less busy than last night. Where the band had been, waiting chairs and tables had been placed, a courtesy for guests waiting to check in. The cleaning team of the Hotel Cortez was marvellous, you had to admit. As you ducked your hips away from the edge of a chair, you spotted him. James March was leaned against the bar, chatting gayly with the bartender. The bartender nodded, swiping a rag over the spot directly in front of him. A glass of bourbon sat in front of James, perspiring. Much like you were. So it hadn’t all been a dream. He looked the same as he had last night, no hint of a hangover or fatigue. Just… charming. You inhaled and headed for the door.

“A perfect fit!” He called out from the balcony, his glass raised in a cheers. A few guests turned, searching for the voice. You jumped. The man had a talent for startling you — you’d give him that. You turned, your brows upturned in the middle, asking silently for clarification.

“The dress!”

“Oh! Yes! It does…. Thank you! It’s beautiful, Mr. March!��

“How’s your neck!?” He asked, lowering his head slightly.

The question threw you off. “….fine, but I really must be going, Mr. March! Bye!”

“Come back to the Hotel Cortez any time, my darling! As my guest.”

James watched you hurry out the door, knowing that if you did come back for a second time… it would be the last time.

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evanpeters-posts · 11 months ago

Text

FUCK ME UP GODDDAMN

Stalked - Kai Anderson x Reader

summary & wordcount: 2.6K! After breaking up with Kai, he decides you need a little reminder of what once was. idea requested by @kaislittlelamb originally!

w a r n i n g s: smut with very little plot, implied stalking, toxic relationships, throat fucking, blowjobs, Kai being Kai, violence, aggression.

a/n: this was originally a drabble, but got longer - very quickly written, sorry if it's horrible! definitely not my best. thanks for reading it, if you did!!! no taglist this time because it's a pain in the bootay.

full fic under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! /

You'd met with Zack a few times now, but this was the first time you two had actually gotten to talk and get to know each other. He was cute, in a very boy next door sort of way; physically fit, a tousled mess of brown curls, bright green eyes, and bright, white teeth that probably got whitened bi-weekly.

"So, anyways, I moved here about three months ago after my mom moved here, and with her needing help, I figured I might as well stay."

"Nice." You grinned.

"Yeah, so I'm definitely still learning the best spots to eat..."

You casually glanced around the restaurant, scanning the patrons next to you; you were an observer and enjoyed people watching, in all situations. Abruptly, several tables across from you, wavy, blue hair caught your attention. Your expression contorted into one of shock as your eyes trailed down the bridge of the nose, taking in the man's face. No fucking way.

As though he felt that he was being watched, Kai turned mid-sentence, and immediately made eye contact with you. His brows rose slowly in surprise, and ultimately, delight. You blinked and turned away quickly, engulfing yourself back in the conversation. Or hoping to. But there was no escaping this.

"Excuse me," you heard him say, before scooting his chair back. The legs scraped against the floor with an awkward sound, and Kai made his way over to you, navigating around the tables.

Like a child trying to avoid being found, you almost considered sinking down in your seat, chest heaving with shallow breaths. Some luck you had. Some fucking luck. You rolled your eyes, shifting your shoulders. Zack watched you, studying your very apparent discomfort. You felt both men's eyes on you, and laughed nervously into your soda.

"Y/N..." Kai said.

You said nothing in return, only smiled sarcastically and stirred your soda with the straw.

"New boyfriend?" He asked, his tone dripping with faux-interest. You knew him. You knew him like the back of your hand, and he wasn't interested. He was waiting to incriminate you.

"No, actually." Zack interjected, bravely. "We're just getting to know each other. It's going well."

You nodded, giving him a genuine smile. "It is."

Kai tightened his smile further; the fakeness started to show through the cracks. "Good, good. Well, I just wanted to say hello. I'll leave you two lovebirds to finish your appetizers."

"You know him?"

"Unfortunately. Too well."

"Ex-boyfriend?" Zack asked, popping another spinach-dip loaded chip into his mouth.

Sheepishly, you nodded.

"He looks familiar."

"Yeah, you've probably seen him on TV. He's a councilman."

Zack snapped his fingers, pointing at you. "That's it! Anderson, right?"

Again, you nodded. "Yep... that's the one."

The waiter appeared, meals in hand. As you two ate, the conversation naturally melted away from Kai, which you were grateful for. Especially since it seemed like it was headed in the direction of Zack wanting to vote for him and agreeing with his campaign policies. Unfortunately, Zack fit the bill of one of the men that Kai would easily brainwash, and recruit to his noble cause.

Halfway through dessert, your phone buzzed. You knew who it was from without even looking. The message read: We should get together.

You quickly thumbed out a response. Why?

Just to talk.

Against better judgement, you agreed. The rest of the date was spent laughing about poorly written films in the last decade, but in the back of your mind, laughing was the last thing you wanted to be doing. The next hour was a blur. Zack had gone in for a kiss when he was leaving, which you returned, but only briefly. You were distracted. Painfully so. You went from the restaurant to Kai's, but you hardly remembered driving there. Your mind was on autopilot; a rotten, sour feeling bubbling in your stomach. Everything in you said that this was a bad idea, and yet, you gripped the steering wheel hard, looking at his front door.

You got out, locked your car and made your way up the pathway. You only knocked once before the door flew open. He stood tall. Proud. Unwavering. That overly confident, but calm smile plastered on his stupidly-handsome face. His hair hung at his cheeks, greasy as ever. He was pleased you'd shown up - you thought you saw a flicker of doubt that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't have. But you were a woman of your word, and you weren't going to show him that he was something to fear.

"So, when are you going to break it off with what's-his-name?" Kai asked as he took the basement stairs quickly, trotting down them. You followed, wordlessly, revelling in the familiar sensations. Once you'd stopped at the final step, you glanced forward, eyes locking on the brown leather couch. Out of all the memories that you'd had in that basement, the ones that rushed back were the ones where Kai was fucking you on that couch. Ruthless, merciless fucking until your back hurt and your insides felt like they'd been obliterated twice over. You blinked the images away, swallowing hard. Your head turned before your eyes met his.

"Zack is actually very nice, and he'd probably treat me very well if I decided to pursue a relationship with him. But since when do you care who I'm with?"

"It's my business."

"No, it fucking isn't. It hasn't been for weeks. Last time I checked... I was uhhh, what was it? A stupid bitch?" That had become a favorite alias of his. You plopped down on the sofa, cushions giving way to your weight.

Kai bristled. "You know, you really should be careful what you post on social media."

"Excuse me?"

"You never know who could be watching."

The realisation hits you like a freight train. Him being at the restaurant wasn't a coincidence, it wasn't bad luck. Kai knew exactly where you were going to be and he made it a point to be there. You’d replied to a friend in the comments of a post, telling her that you were going to be at that particular restaurant in the afternoon. He’d seen that.

"You've been.... fucking stalking me!?"

Kai filled his chest with air, somehow standing taller than he already did. "You sure like to show off your cute little life, don't you? Pathetic little coffee outings and Tapas date nights. But what I want to know..." Kai trailed off, circling you like the pathetic little lamb you were. "...is who you go home and think about. Is it Zack? Or maybe Edward?"

You felt the muscles underneath your eye twitch.

"Or is it.... me?"

Kai finally moved in front of you, his broad chest obscuring your view from everything else. His legs touched your knees.

"Answer me."

"I don't have to tell you anything, Kai. You aren't my boyfriend anymore."

"I said answer me!" Kai pressed his thumb and forefinger into your cheeks, making your lips pucker out like a stupid, confused fish. He yanked your head forward, bringing it up towards his. The action strained the muscles in your neck, but you didn't dare say that. This dynamic was very familiar to you. You'd been here before.

"Seems like you need a little reminder."

A chill ran down your spine.

"Open your mouth." Kai's thumb traced your pouty lips softly, sweeping back and forth. He waited a few seconds, his face tight with impatience and when you didn't concede to his request, Kai forced your mouth open, pressing his fingers into your cheek flesh until you winced and dropped your jaw.

"Good girl. Now, you're going to keep your mouth open until I say to close it. You understand?"

You nodded, your tongue resting delicately on your bottom teeth.

"I have a very important job for you. You're going to stroke my cock until it's hard and then I'm going to throat fuck you."

You held back a cringe. He was always so... direct. Direct with his intentions, direct with his words, direct with his actions. You supposed that was the main vein of why he was doing so well as a councilman; people liked the truth -- and regardless of validity, if something is delivered with enough confidence and directness, it's believed.

You reached forward tentatively, undoing the button of his dark jeans. The zipper came next, one tooth at a time. You felt the heat of his groin as soon as you leaned forward to pull the jeans over his buttocks, turning your face away so that you weren't met with a mouthful of fabric. With a strong hand, you gripped the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down over his balls - his dick flopped out, heavy and warm to the touch. You sucked a self-encouraging breath into your lungs and reached forward to grip his flaccid cock, inching your lips towards it.

"No." He bucked his hips backwards, furrowing his brows. "What did I say?"

You froze, backpedalled and began stroking, intentionally angling it towards your mouth. Kai let out a shallow breath, pressing his chin against his chest to watch you. You gave it a firm squeeze, and in response, his cock twitched in your grip; it didn't take long for it to swell and stiffen to capacity in your grasp. You paid some attention to the tip, spreading around the slithery pre-cum that had leaked from the slit.

"I always liked that about you - your willing adherence to any and all demands. You know what I want."

At least he was praiseful. He always had been, even in the late and toxic stages of your relationship. Still, you chalked it up to him enjoying the sound of his own voice and feeling like he was in control of the situation

Your free hand took hold of his balls, squeezing them softly. At that, Kai vocalized hungrily, grunting low in his throat. He was a very venous man; in any heightened state of emotion that got the blood flowing, his veins popped in his forehead, his neck, his hands... and his cock. Your tongue massaged the veins that swelled on his shaft, flattened out on the thickest one underneath and flicked at the tip.

You continued jerking it, finding a rhythm until Kai's large hand enveloped yours, forcing his cock out of your grasp to replace it with his own. Pumping his cock in and out of his hand a few times quickly, Kai hissed through his teeth, and took a fistful of your hair at the crown of your head. He immediately let go, and cupped the back of your head with his hand, stroking it softly. Tenderly -- like it meant something to him. It didn't. You were a stupid pawn in his story, another one of his dedicated cult members, and he regarded them all the same.

You closed your mouth to swallow, wetting the inside of it before returning to your previous, vulnerable position, tongue out, eyes lifted to meet his. Kai's pitch-dark eyes looked down at you with a roiling expectancy, one that spoke louder than words could. He slapped the tip of his cock against your waiting tongue, revelling in that first, startled flinch.

At first, he slid just the tip along the texture of your tongue, grinding against you, but it didn't take him long to penetrate. The tip of his cock bumped against the back of your throat, and you closed your lips, bowing your head slightly to allow him further down your throat.

“How does that feel?”

You nodded your head. Kai let out another throaty moan and picked up his pace, thrusting his hips hard into your face as you relaxed your throat as best you could, fighting your gag reflex. His cock filled your throat - violated it - the salty taste of his precum overwhelming your senses. Your nose burned and your eyes watered. You guessed that your eye makeup had begun to stream down your cheeks in ebony ribbons.

Kai's visual was ethereal. You were coming undone before him - below him - as women should. In such a submissive state, you looked your best. He took a fistful of your hair and yanked you forward, violently forcing you to deep throat his dick. He felt the slick, strong contraction of your reflex and grit his teeth; you were withholding it, but the pathetic, whimpering sounds of your gags drove him forward. He pictured them, remembering all the times that he had been in a similar position with you.

"Gag," he said, finally. "I want to hear your pain."

When you didn't, Kai forced his cock further into your throat, until your nose was pressed in the bush of his hair. That did it. With your eyes squeezed shut, your throat repeatedly rebelled. You coughed and gagged around his shaft, the tip still pressed against your tonsils. You finally opened your bleary eyes at him, straining them upwards to get a visual on him, to beg him wordlessly for relief. Kai flattened his hand on the back of your head and bunny humped your face, pulling more desperate gags from your throat.

"Who do you belong to?"

No response. Just a full-mouthed cough.

He took a fistful of your hair, pulling you hard off of his dick. THWACK! Kai's hand whipped across your face, leaving a welting streak of red in its wake. His cock bumped against the roof of your mouth as you nodded slowly, stunned from the sheer force.

"I'll ask you one more time... who do you belong to?"

Finally, you gave him another feeble nod and lifted your hand to press a single finger into his pectoral muscle.

"Good... that's what I like to hear. You remembered that it's rude to talk with your mouth full, too. I'm so proud of you."

Kai reinserted his cock into your waiting mouth, almost gently. That was everything but comforting, but this foreplay was familiar to you, and therefore, enjoyable. Sure, the way your throat burned as his dick hammered in and out might've teetered on the edge of discomfiting, but you'd been here before. You knew him, and at one point, you loved him.

You made an O around his cock as he dragged it out from the back of your throat, sucking gently. Kai began thrusting again, but less rhythmically than before. He was losing his steady pace, and that only meant one thing.

"Don't fucking stop," he breathed. "Keep going."

You closed your eyes again, two tears streaming down your blushing, caving cheeks. He was going to cum soon, you felt the tightness, the heat, the urgency behind his thrusts. Pumping his cock in and out of your swollen lips, Kai’s hand snapped to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he thrust remorselessly.

A second later, he bottomed out again, and you felt his cock twitching, pulsing in your mouth as his orgasm washed down the back of your throat. You coughed a wet, sticky wet cough and Kai groaned, letting his head fall back into his shoulders.

"Swallow. Fucking swallow it."

You did. You winced as your throat accepted the mouthful of blisteringly hot cum, salty and slightly unpleasant. Your mouth felt sticky and your throat was coated – you couldn't talk, not clearly. So, instead of telling Kai that you hated him, you just glared at him with fire in your gaze, baring your teeth at him like an angry dog.

“Aw, what? What, you hate me? Is that what you want to say?”

You nodded.

“Go sit at the table. We’re going to talk about that.”

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