#WHO POSES AS A HOUSEKEEPER

[peachpitfics]

Cruel Summer

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Following your romp with Benedict Bridgerton in his art studio, he asked your brother for your hand! Now you're on your honeymoon, and you're getting a little bored, posing for him. A lady must find ways to amuse herself!

Length: 2.1k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), Penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, light bondage, food play.

a/n: This is an anonymous request for a continuation of 'Guilty as Sin'.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Benedict Bridgerton escorting you to view his artwork, at his private studio, was just the beginning of your story. After sneaking around behind your family’s backs for a small while, Benedict gathered enough courage to ask your eldest brother’s permission for your hand. This seemed strange to the y/l/n family, not one of them had ever seen the two of you together, which showed how much attention was paid to the middle child. Benedict made sure to ask you in the Bridgerton drawing room, just before family tea, for everyone to see. He made such a big to-do, confessing his love to you, before every member of the Bridgerton family in attendance. It felt particularly safe there, amongst people who took interest in who you were as a person.

It was bittersweet to have siblings who offered their time, their attentions, and their hobbies freely. You learned so many new things from each of them, from pall-mall, to sewing, even horse riding.  In six months, you were married and moved into the Bridgerton house for the meantime, until after your honeymoon. You would never outright tell Benedict you did not want to move out, but he felt it, he knew.

“My love” Benedict whispered, shaking your shoulders gently. Honeymooning in Paris was something the two of you had instantly agreed upon. So far, two weeks of sleeping late, making love, and eating copious amounts of divine food was your only concern. Of course, there were a lot of other lovely things Benedict had planned for your honeymoon – river boat rides and romantic dinners, every moment between locations filled with fine bread, wine, and cheese.

“Yes, my love?” You grumbled, rolling away from him, clearly having not had enough sleep.

“You must wake up, it is midafternoon!” Benedict exclaimed with a chesty laugh, rolling you back into him and tickling your sides. You howled with laughter, pushing him away playfully, leaning up to distract him as only you knew how. His lips were warm and wet against your own, seductive, and luscious.

“You must come downstairs! The housekeeper has left us a feast and I wish to paint my gorgeous wife” Benedict slid his hands around your naked body, lifting you out of bed as you groaned.

“Again?!” “My darling, I’ll be painting you until death takes me” Benedict chuffed, sliding sideways between doorways and down the stairs to the sitting room.

“What if death takes me first?” You smirked back, figuring you had him cornered here.

“I have made God promise I am to go first. And even so, I’ll have every detail committed to memory and these paintings and sketches of you now to keep me company” Benedict squeezed you in his arms, he didn’t like to joke about parting ways, in any sense. It was his truest nightmare, his deepest fear.

Benedict set you down in the sitting room and gestured to what he and the house keeping staff had readied. Paint, canvas, a staging area - littered around the room were bowls of fresh fruit, bottles of wine, candles surrounded by plates of cheese, oil, and bread. You relaxed back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you, cupping your breasts sweetly. You giggle a little, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He nodded to your position for the rest of the day, a chair with the back faced to a very high window, casting a streak of sunlight down upon the spot.

There you sat, for hardly an hour before your mind began to wander, circling Benedict in your mind like a shark in open water. You had learned to become comfortable being nude for long periods of time these days, however Benedict had learned nothing of your persuasion or power when your attentions were dashed. Your movements started slowly, daintily taking your hands to your knees, and spreading your legs wide upon the chair. Resting a little, relaxing your back and cupping your own breasts. Your fingers gently grazing your nipples. But nothing, no attention from your husband. He sat close to his canvas, squinting into the detail of his work, his realm of perception clearly inhibited. With a huff and a light moan, you continued to palm at your own breasts, fingers trapping your nipples in a pulling motion- you decided to pretend Benedict wasn’t here. Suddenly, taking notice, you watched as his brush left the canvas, his mouth hung open a little and he removed his glasses, almost tossing them to the floor.

“What are you doing, darling?” He mumbled, swallowing hard. Your hands ran down your mid-section, over your belly and down your thighs sensually, soft mewls slipped from between your lips. Benedict loved the sounds you made.

“I’m just amusing myself, continue on with your painting my dear” Your replying comment was nonchalant in the best way. Benedict almost looked offended that you would suggest he could go back to painting.

“How do you suppose I paint, while my wife ravages her own body before me?” He blinked at the audacity of you.

“Well, dear one, this is what you have chosen for this afternoon’s activities… Now, you must endure” You smiled, sliding your hand between your legs, dipping your finger in the wet warmth there. Benedict shuddered, wishing any part of him were exchanged with your finger.

If there was anything you had learned about Benedict in the last six or seven months, it was that his desire for you was consistent and all encompassing. Benedict watched on as your fingers circled your clitoris, you moaned and exhaled gently - his paint brush never did return to the canvas. Beads of sweat formed on his brow line, the hot, French summer finally taking its toll in the late afternoon. You reached to the small stool next to you, extracting the tiniest jar of honey. You looked into Benedict’s eyes, holding the jar above your body, dangling your head back and pouring a steady stream of honey over your chest. The sun glistened, reflecting little pools of light off your sticky, sweet skin.

Taking your finger, you swept up your belly from your navel, placing your finger on your tongue in clear view of him, and that was his very last straw. Benedict threw his paintbrush to the ground, thrusting himself up and out of his chair, to march across the room to you.

“What do you think you are doing, wife?” Benedict’s voice rasped, his eyes were so dark, the colour had all but gone.

“Playing, my love” You replied cheekily, sucking another nip of honey off your finger. He all but growled watching your finger slip between your lips, his breath quickening in sheer lust for you.

“Are you punishing me for getting you out of bed?” Benedict’s face was so close now, his nose tip to tip with yours. There was such tension in his jaw, his teeth clenched hard in his fierce need of you. You fluttered your lashes back at him, refusing to answer with your words.

“Do you have even a semblance of an understanding of what you are doing to me? This is unbelievably cruel,” He breathed heavily down on you, desperation flooding his body and adrenaline surging behind, “You can’t begin to imagine the things I want to do to you right now” His stubble gliding across your ear and cheek, making you shudder.

“Show me then,” You challenged, “You are my husband after all”.

Benedict’s hands slowly moved to his shirt, shedding it, and throwing it somewhere behind him. He acted with a sureness and a strength you hadn’t yet experienced, but it was drawing you in. Undoing his pants, Benedict took his hard member into his hands, stroking himself against your chest, lathering it in honey. His other hand wove into your hair, tangling the perfect hold, bringing you forward.

“Oh. Goodness. Seems I’ve made quite a mess of myself… Wife, help me clean it up” He smiled smugly down at you.

 Something feral, untamed, was unleashed inside you, your eyes darkening, “Certainly, my lord”. As your tongue reached out to meet his tip, his head lulled back in pleasure, his hand still wrapped around the base of him. Your lips parted slowly, encasing his first inch, and swirling your tongue around to suck the honey from him. Benedict exhaled headily, his breaths deep, but quick with the slightest grunt mixed in. The way he sounded, even now, made you wetter and wetter.

There was something maliciously keen in Benedict’s eyes as he watched from on high, your pretty mouth sucking all the honey off him and then some. His body gently rocked forward, his hand heaving your head forward, onto him in a more perverse manner. His head hung back in greedy caution, grasping to the very last straws of his gentlemanly nature as you sunk to the base of him, your tongue wriggling slyly underneath.

His fingers grew taut in your hair, reefing you backwards. His laugh was low, both impressed and challenged by your ministrations. In the next moment, Benedict had hauled you up and over his shoulder, he was charging up the stairs, mad with temerity.

Entering the bedroom, he threw you down on the bed, scrambling for any piece of material in reach, he began ripping. Four pieces of silk fabrics in his hands, he loomed over you in profound ownership. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, Benedict taking each wrist and ankle, tying them to each to their respective corner post of the bed.

“There” He stood, hands on his hips, proud of his work, “There’ll be no more of that”. Clearly touching yourself had had a dire effect on Benedict’s work ethic.

Kneeling between your thighs, his naked body unjustly out of reach, Benedict’s supercilious smile sick with goofy dominance. He thumbs over your folds, his finger descending, extorting whines of pleasure you never knew existed within you. Broad strokes of the most painful, unapologetically evil gratification. Benedict’s tongue flicked over his lips hungrily.

“I need you” The words escaped you violently, the thrill of his touch, his charming smile becoming all too much for you. He ignored you and continued another moment or two, reducing you to a begging mess beneath him.

“Shall I oblige you, my marvellous bride?” His grin was jubilant and all knowing, his hands came down on your wrists, pressing them into the bed. Benedict’s brutal, familiar kiss sown into your lips permanently, as he pushed inside of you with surprise.

“Y/n” He groaned, growled with unrepentant lust. Your eyes cast wide, the length of him stretching you mercilessly while he thrust in and out. His villainous face claiming your entire consciousness as he used your body to his pleasure, decadent facial expressions, and damnable sounds he was delivering straight to your right ear.

“You feel unimaginably perfect” Benedict groaned, your moans joining in alongside his.

Hands grasping for silk to hold onto, you longed for your own release, grinding your hips back against Benedict’s. His movements became more ferocious, keeping up with the sounds you were making. Frenetic energy began to move through your body, your ravenous thirst for him finally quenched. Every muscle in your body engaged in vivid contortion, Benedict pressing into you as deeply as he possibly could before his own body found its own powerful release.

Covered in sweat and honey, you laid tangled together for a moment before Benedict recalled your wrists and ankles were tied. He chuckled with giddiness, sitting up to admire his knots.

“You look fantastic like this, perhaps we should do this more often” He suggested sweetly. His thumb caressed the side of your face, your panting, tired body unable to give a response. Benedict littered your face and neck with loving pecks.

“We could be one person and I still would never be close enough to you. No amount of time with you will ever satisfy me. You are the centre of my world” Benedict whispered gently. Every day you were reminded of the intoxicants his poetic mind dabbled into every sweet thing he said to you.

In another instant, Benedict had sprung from the bed, running downstairs. You laughed, thinking he must be returning with some of the food the housekeeper had left strewn about his romantically planned afternoon. Instead, Benedict returned with a new canvas and his implements. Your mouth fell open all on its own, blinking furiously in his direction as he set himself up off the side of the bed.

“If you could just stay there, like that, that’d be great!” Benedict’s grin, excruciatingly exquisite, and concocting. He held himself with such pride in his agendum, cockiness seemed to fill the room in a potent manner.

“BENEDICT!?” You squealed, tugging frantically on his bindings, your laughter filled with rich resolve.

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

tagging: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //

If you'd like to be added to this tag list, please let me know!

[froggibus]

Fake Dating Headcanons - Cassidy, Venture & Shimadas

Pairing: Cole Cassidy x gn! reader, Genji Shimada x gn! reader, Hanzo Shimada x gn! reader, Sloan Cameron x gn! reader

Genre: fluff!

Summary: situations in which they pretend to be your s/o and how it escalates B)

CW: (kinda) fake dating trope, slight harassment (hanzo), slight manipulation (venture), they’re all kinda protective of you + super super in love, pre-fall overwatch/blackwatch for cass + genji, lots of touching and kissing ^.^

needed to write some silly fluff tonight so here's this B) side note that i'm taller than literally all of these people except cass </3

Cassidy:

you end up posing as a couple on a cruise for a blackwatch mission and Cass has the time of his life

loves calling you his ‘partner’ ‘wife/husband’ etc

takes full advantage of the situation and always has his arm around you

“now don’t you go readin’ into this, it’s just for the mission”

(it is not)

you’re forced to share a room and he insists on sleeping on the floor

“but wouldn’t it be suspicious to housekeeping if the bed was only slept in on one side?”

Cass considers your words and (not so reluctantly) agrees to share the bed with you

you wake up with his arms around you and legs tangled with yours

neither of you say a word.

the tension only builds the longer the two of you are together

every touch, every nickname—the line gets blurry

at some point you’re gathering intel on your target and almost get caught

until Cass pins you against the wall and smashes his lips against yours

you both get way too into it—your hands in his hair, his on the base of your thighs

he pulls away all flushed and breathless

“I think they’re gone”

and before you can even think you’re pulling him in again and kissing more

you both get an earful from Reyes after.

Genji:

also posing as a couple for a blackwatch mission

he’s very indifferent and nonchalant about it at first

it’s only when some other man is hitting on you that he jumps into boyfriend mode

comes up behind you, arms around your waist, and rests his head on yours 

little do you know he’s GLARING at the man in front of you

the man hitting on you quickly comes up with an excuse to leave

after that, he’s following you around like a guard

always has his hands on you, but in the lightest way possible

his palm on the small of your back, his pinkie interlaced with yours

everyone you talk to at the gala comments on how cute and affectionate he is with you

at some point you end up on the dance floor to get closer to your targets

Genji can hardly breathe with you so close to him, let alone focus on the mission

he’s an insane dancer (sojiro probably taught his sons)

you lean in to whisper “you’re a really good dancer”

and he’s so infatuated with you that he’s dizzy but he gets so close you can feel his breath on your face

and then you’re kissing and you’re not even sure who started it but you don’t even care

you don’t even need to approach your targets—they approach you and tell you how sweet you guys are

they send you on more missions together after this.

Hanzo:

you convince him to stop sulking at home for one (1) night and come out to the bar with you

it’s going smoothly til you go up to get drinks and this random man wraps an arm around your shoulders

Hanzo’s on his feet the second he sees you tense up

he’s on your other side in an instant, grabbing the drinks from your hands and trying to usher you away

the man takes Hanzo in with a scowl, demanding to know ‘who the hell he thinks he is’

he sees red.

before you can even speak he’s stepping in front of you protectively, sizing him up

“i’m the boyfriend.”

the man scurries off after that and Hanzo guides you back to the table

“you didn’t have to do that, Hanzo.”

shrugs it off as nothing but doesn’t take his eyes off of you for the rest of the night

everytime you get up to order another round or go to the bathroom, he’s trailing after you with a respectful hand on the small of your back

another man comes and asks you to dance and Hanzo glowers at them and reminds them you have a boyfriend

the man looks directly at you “its not like he’s dancing with you.”

single handedly convinces Hanzo to dance with you.

has his hands on your hips, keeping close without pushing your boundaries

someone bumps into you and you’re suddenly pressed against his chest

and you look at him and he looks at you and suddenly he has a hand on your cheek and he’s kissing you

and you’re kissing back and you’re confused but you don’t even care because Hanzo is kissing you.

he pulls away with a slight grin, all red cheeks and breathless

“let me take you home.”

Venture:

 you’re catching up at a coffee shop when you bump into your ex and they start to approach you

the barista calls your name and you reach for your cappuccino with shaky hands

and then Sloan’s at your side, an arm around your waist, planting a chaste kiss to your cheek

“hey…babe, thanks for grabbing our drinks”

Sloan grabs the cup out of your hand to keep you from dropping it, lacing the fingers on their other hand with yours

you’re still in shock when they’re side eyeing your ex, flashing them a fake smile as they guide you back to your table

seats you facing away from the counter so you don’t have to look at your “rat ex”

they keep a hand laced with yours across the table the whole time

at some point you hear footsteps behind you and suddenly Sloan is leaning over the table and kissing you

they have a hand on the collar of your shirt for leverage, the taste of their mocha heavy on their lips

“I–your ex was coming”

after that, they’re much more affectionate—kissing you every few minutes, wiping the foam off your face, insisting you try some of their drink

a barista breaks a glass and the noise makes you turn around, only to see your ex isn’t there anymore

“Sloan…my ex already left.”

“...oops?”

thanks for reading & have a great night <3

ow masterlist | masterlist

[har-rison-s]

whatever you need | coryo snow x fem!reader

a/n: don't mind me, just eating pomelo and writing smut. i daydream about this piece every and all work day i have rn, it's pretty unhinged bcs i'm working as a gift wrapper for the holiday season and just staring ahead thinking of.... things. i'm technically an atheist, but i would need forgiveness for those thoughts. ANYWAY JEEZ. this took me like four days, help. i'm so insecure abt my smut writing, tho so ooohhh god am i actually dreading posting this. i'll just publish and run away from tumblr for a week. happy reading

talk to me about coryo here

previous chapter next chapter

coryo masterlist main masterlist

word count: 7.2k (sawrry)

themes: smut

warnings / disclaimers: smut, unprotected p in v, brief mutual masturbation, cum eating (SCREAMING), fingering, crying, ENJOY jsdfjhsadsd

gif credit goes to owner <3

something strange was happening in the arena. something was being done to the camera feeds that were supposed to livestream every second of what was happening in it. only because something seemed to have gone wrong in the games y/n was stuck to the television screen in her living room slash lounge. her parents were called into urgent work in district three a few hours ago, so it was only her and some of the maids in the house. they kept to themselves, though, and were probably asleep in their quarters at the mansion’s far-end wing. except for the main housekeeper, who was adamantly guarding the entrance of the house, in case anyone came by.

her parents were counting on someone coming by - with the way she was recently behaving at school and with the rebel bombs, they were real worried about her well-being. she was always alone at home, because there was no one to bring home. except the dean, but he came by himself and only to serve his usual scolding and threats about y/n’s rebellious nature and behaviour at school. her parents hadn’t felt such worry for their daughter as they felt now since the war days. 

what soothed her mother’s worried heart and mind was the presence of the maids and the housekeeper. y/n appreciated their staying around and liked hearing noises made by someone else in the mansion, even if it was only a far-away creak of floorboards or a door closing. but she didn’t need anything from them, ever, she’d been very independent since her early childhood, and maids seemed like such an excess right now, an even backwards concept for y/n. her family employing them, unable to live without them, made her feel like the rich princess everyone deemed her being. 

y/n had felt fine being home alone until the feed from the arena turned strange. darker, blacker, and the audio seemed warped or otherwise manipulated. she’d caught sight of a familiar figure entering the arena – who was that? how did he get inside? who can tell... – and then the feed changed. there was nothing much she could see, but her eyes had been glued to the screen of her television for the past half hour, anyway. all the while she was straining her eyes to try to see who it was, and at some point that figure was joined by another by Sejanus’ tribute Marcus’ bruised and wounded body, and then the feed darkened nearly completely. 

she sat in her sofa in an embryo pose, blanket over her stressed form, covering her back and the bare feet and legs that the knitted bedtime jumper couldn’t. she realized the gamemakers or the Capitol were trying to hide something, nothing else could explain the feed changing and audio going wobbly and earning static in the process. 

the bell ringing at the front door startled her so bad that y/n gasped and jerked in her position on the sofa. her head whipped in its direction and she watched two figures entering her family’s mansion from the far end of the hallway. she could already tell who the two were, but she remained sat on the sofa, her legs unmoving out of anxiety. she shut off the television and just watched them walk towards her through the unlit hallway, arms wrapping around her knees underneath her beloved blanket.

“ms y/l/n, a mister Snow is here, for you,” the housekeeper announced as she and Coriolanus entered the living room, Coriolanus stumbling into the room more than walking into it. he looked like he was falling to pieces. his breath was heavy, hair and academy uniform in disarray, face just... bewildered. y/n nodded at her housekeeper, extended her arms towards Coryo like a child reaching for its favourite toy and sniffled quietly.

“thank you, Nora,” she told the housekeeper, “please leave us. you can go to bed, i won’t need anything else for the night.” she said in a hushed voice and the housekeeper nodded, knowing to listen to the child of her employers. y/n hated giving anyone orders, much less this spectacular lady, but she did want to be alone with Coryo. and by the look of him, she could tell he couldn’t be around anyone else but her. he was a man of privacy, after all.

as soon as Nora shut the door behind her and left for the maids’ quarters, Coryo accepted the plea in y/n’s extended arms and stumbled over to her on the sofa. “i—i’m sorry,” he said the first words out of breath, in a voice so broken and frail that y/n’s lips twitched downwards and she felt the need to cry, “i didn’t know where else to go, i couldn’t... i couldn’t f-face anyone else...” as he sat down before y/n’s bare feet peeking out from the blanket, she noticed in the poor lighting of the room that his clothes were dirty. there were cuts in his shirt, dirt, gravel, sand... blood. 

“what happened?” her voice wouldn’t go any louder than a whisper, and her lips were turning into a pout as she looked Coryo over, her meek hands reaching out for him but unsure whether she should touch him or not. he could fall apart like the frailest glass, it seemed, if anything touched him right now. his face was bruised. there were small cuts on his cheek, blood on his chin. she noticed how they had already been taken care of.

Coryo still took heavy breaths, but finally he felt like his vision was real and not fooling him, and he took in his surroundings. the dim lighting in the posh room, y/n’s bare feet touching his red academy pant leg, her legs pulled up to her chest under a cute throw-blanket in the pastel colour of chocolate milk, her small hands reaching out to him, unsure, unsteady. he lifted his head to look at her, and the expression on her face made his heart lurch in his chest. her glassy eyes – no doubt matching his –, the pout on her lips, her rosy cheeks, eyebrows scrunched in worry and confusion. he could never decline that face. “dr Gaul sent me inside the arena to get Sejanus out,” he finally said, and he spoke in a whisper tone that could only be meant for secrets, “but the tributes heard us... i’m not sure i should even be telling you about this at all,” he admitted.

y/n shook her head. “your secret’s safe with me,” she assured with a gentle nod.

“yes, but dr Gaul—” Coryo began, but she interrupted him in the voice of a faint whisper. 

“i know how terrifying she is,” y/n persisted, “she won’t know that i know.” she said even quieter and looked, really looked, into Coryo’s eyes, and nodded gently again at him. he searched her eyes for a few seconds, weighing the risk of her knowing this, trying to decide if he should tell her more or just cut short here. but really. she’s a loose end and she knows it. it’s not like dr Gaul was in high thoughts of y/n or deemed her more valuable than any other student, and her nature played a big part in that opinion of the young girl. how would she know that y/n found out about this night in the arena? she wouldn’t. it would never come up in conversation. y/n wasn’t part of this.

“the tributes heard us,” Coryo started to say as he sat closer to y/n, his body turned to face her, and almost loomed over her. he’s always been much taller than her, and sometimes that played a part in their dynamic. he took her hands in his above her bent knees and the blanket. he licked his lips and y/n searched his eyes, his... stoic blue eyes. there was a change in them, “they came after us and i...” he shook his head, “i didn’t want to hurt him,” Coryo’s voice broke and his head dropped onto y/n’s covered knees. 

she heard a sob from him, and it shook her entire form, making her gasp quietly. she’d never seen him cry before. the night on the rooftop, in the garden, she knew he was close to it, but she knew he’d never let his pride down so much that he’d let anyone see him cry. and Coryo didn’t feel so good about crying now, about opening himself up to her like this, he felt disgusted with himself. but he also couldn’t stop. and he couldn’t hide everything from her, after all. 

y/n shuffled around until her legs were tucked under herself and she moved closer to Coryo, taking his scarred cheeks between her small hands and lifting his face up so he would see her. she knew she made him nervous usually, but she calculated that that effect flipped around on itself when he was in this state, or one similar to this. breaking apart. feeling vulnerable. beaten down. she looked into his eyes and he back into hers, not really having any other choice. she had this compelling power over him, even if he didn’t want to admit it, and he didn’t want to hide from her. not really.

his breathing slowed down as he just looked into her wondering beautiful orbs, full of so much determination, courage and kindness. she was almost smiling at him, even though she wanted to cry, too, and her eyes were glassy with produced tears, but she wanted to appear strong for him. because right now he really needed a strong anchor to hold onto, he was the one in need of support. y/n took that role mainly in their friendship-relationship, especially at school, when she got herself in trouble, or at home, when her parents were giving her an earful about her irresponsibility and all the jazz they usually gave her an earful about.

last time Coryo and y/n saw each other, she realized he had the ability to ground her. and now she realized she had the ability to ground him, because by looking into his eyes she could see his emotions and mood changing by the second. and all because she’s holding him, and he’s looking into her eyes. he didn’t need much more than that. 

and yet maybe he did. he didn’t know which part of him had the urge, but all of him acted on it by ducking forward and kissing her on the lips. he could taste the sweat she had made on her lips out of stress, and the blueberry tartlet she must have had as a late snack not too long ago. and his hands couldn’t keep away anymore, either, they were taking hold of her face like hers was holding his cheeks between them. y/n would have gasped at his sudden action if she had any air to breathe, and she sighed heavily when he did give her a split second of air after fiery kisses to her delicious lips. 

he kept his eyes on her as he pulled his academy blazer off and threw it to the ground beside the couch, then came back closer to her, one hand on her cheek and the other pulling the adorable blanket off her legs. y/n placed a palm on that hand of his, which made Coryo furrow his eyebrows and look at her with puzzled eyes. didn’t she want this, too? she gulped, eyes averted from his shyly. “i’d rather we talked about it, Coryo,” she admitted and looked back at him carefully, eyes so un-knowing and yet more clever than most people’s. Coryo tilted his head slightly at her words. 

his hands took the bull by its horns, pulling the blanket fully away and welcoming the night air of the mansion upon y/n’s bare legs, making her gasp again. Coryo used the moment of surprise to his advantage and pushed her down on the sofa, sneaking in between her legs like the slippery mastermind he was, and he slid a hand under her knitted jumper, raising goose-bumps in his wake across her stomach and waist. y/n hated that she felt aroused, meaning she felt exactly how he wanted her to, was right where he wanted her, but she couldn’t exactly pull away. she hated being at someone’s mercy, but.... it was Coryo.

she surprised him when he found she wasn’t wearing a bra under her jumper, nothing was standing between his greedy hands and her naked breasts now, though her not wearing a bra at home wasn’t exactly a surprise. it’s just that his inexperienced self was shocked to find a part of her naked, and right there, at his disposal. watching her face, he placed his palm over one of her breasts and ran his thumb over her nipple, which hardened immediately under his touch. and her face, oh, the expression on it was to die for. eyes softly shut, eyebrows gently spasming as she was feeling something very new to her, her teeth biting her lower lip, cheeks turning more red and no doubt burning up. Coryo placed a kiss on her bare stomach, just above the elastic of her underwear, and watched her still as she whimpered for the first time. her thighs fidgeted around him, feet unsurely digging into the soft cushions of her couch—she really didn’t know what to do with herself and these sensations she was experiencing. 

“i’d rather we didn’t,” he said to her finally, though his actions were more than enough of a response to what she said, but she hardly heard him now. there was a gentle static in her ears, and heat all over her writhing form. her pure, supple, untouched form. all for him to touch, to explore. Coryo took his shirt off in a hurry, as if y/n might disappear if he had his hands off her for a second longer, and returned to her half-naked body a hungrier man. hands raking the insides of her thighs, he kissed her again, hot lips making their conversation just moments ago seem like the far past, making her almost forget it happened. y/n could hardly feel her legs, though she knew this was just the beginning, and she wrapped her arms around Coryo’s frame and held onto him as he moved his slender torso against her chest. she could feel the bones of his hips jutting against her own, his growing crotch pressing against her panty-covered soaking cunt, teasing her, making her pant heavily and whimper like a kitten. 

having her like this satiated the hunger that rose from the deep hole he’d created inside himself, gnawing at him like a big black hole with eager, starving claws. every stroke of his hips against hers beat the monster down but dangled the bait in front of it at the same time, leaving him in quite the paradox. this was more than enough, yet Coryo knew he could go further with y/n, further than enough, and that she’d let him. everything in him wanted to, and he couldn’t stop himself. adrenaline was pumping blood from his heart into his veins, she was available and the only one who could help with the hole growing inside him. 

but y/n couldn’t go further without another word spoken. he was avoiding her question, he was avoiding the whole last hour of this night. “Coryo,” she whispered softly as his lips kissed at her neck, tongue sweeping over a particularly bruised-with-kisses spot on her sculpture-like skin, he was an animal let loose. and his affections almost made her forget what she wanted to ask, and she thought maybe she doesn’t really want to know. but y/n sighed, trying to clear her mind, “tell me what happened,” she plead in a quiet voice and it made Coryo raise his head and look into her eyes again. 

he framed the side of her face with only a hand, his thumb on her chin and the rest of his palm splayed across her burning cheek. he loved seeing the look of lust and confusion on her face, in her eyes most of all. the pads of his fingertips softly pushed into her skin. “no,” he remained stubborn, and y/n would have been surprised to have him do otherwise. she gulped softly, hoping he wouldn’t feel it, but no, he felt every motion any part of her made now. his mind came up with a new idea as he slid a hand of his across her stomach, making a wave across her supple body, and then he reached her underwear. he knew, like everyone else did sort of matter-of-factly, that women were to be touched there. he knew it was the spot in her with which he could get her full attention. and he also knew he’d have to fabricate having experience in this field for y/n. he didn’t want her to think him inexperienced, which he was exactly, or least of all that he’s experimenting with her—which was also what he was doing. so he improvised by cupping her warmest place in the body, and he felt an immediate reaction. her thighs fidgeted around his waist again and her stomach lurched. her eyes shut, but he wanted to see them, “open your eyes,” Coryo urged her, and y/n had to force herself to comply, her beautiful eyes looking into his again. they held eye contact as he ran his middle finger in a straight line between her clothed folds, and he watched as her face contorted, caused by the new strange and pleasant feelings. she felt like warm honey on his fingers, “right now all i need is to feel you,” he told her and did the same motion with his finger again, only this time slower, making it pleasurably agonizing for her, coaxing quiet whimpers from her lips, “and this tells me you need it, too.” 

god, she hated that he was right. at first it was want, she wanted him to stay over, to touch her, to feel her, to do things to her that no one else had ever before. now, she felt so desperate for it that she felt she could explode if she didn’t get what seemed to be promised to her. the want grew to need. she wanted to shake her head, wanted to push him off—that would really be characteristic to her. but instead she brought herself to really look into his eyes and nod in response. Coryo’s lips almost made a smile or a grin, almost, she caught the ghost of it in the corner of his lips before he kissed her again. “alright, Coryo,” she whispered against his lips, “but if you don’t touch me properly right now, i willkick you out of my home.” she said surely, admitting to her desperation without shame and in turn – with pride, and now Coryo grinned. her feistiness was one of the things he liked about her, and it coming out in this setting was more than he could have asked for. in a weird way it got him going. 

y/n placed both of her hands on the sides of his face and kept him close to her as he reached his hand into her underwear, breaching into unexplored territory. she was all the warmer for him, and soaking wet. he hummed, their lips nearly touching, but not completely. it was torture for him. he wanted to devour her lips, her whole face, her whole existence. her lips were like the food of life for him, the sounds she made music to his ears and air in his lungs. “you’re just perfect for me,” he confessed to her in a shudder and y/n smiled lightly. his fingers ran through her naked warm folds, just testing the waters, until they found the opening between them, where the wetness and warmth were seeping from. Coryo would have dropped his head onto her shoulder if her hands weren’t holding it up right, but he just felt like he lost his damn mind at how incredible her walls felt around his fingers, and he could collapse right there on top of her. 

“Coryo,” she sang his nickname in a beautiful moan when two fingers prodded inside her, beating any expectations she had about this beforehand. they were long and thick, touching every inch of her, it felt like, and reaching just far enough. she was barely holding onto him, and her body was reacting to his touches immediately. hips moving, back arching, thighs squeezing his body between them, breaths shuddering. 

“no one’s done this to you before, have they?” Coryo asked, but he hardly needed an answer. by the way she was reacting, he could tell that she’d never felt like this before. y/n shaking her head at his question was merely the last dot on the confirmation, yet it still made him more aroused. knowing he was the first one to do this to her, with her. he grazed her upper wall with his finger pads, being careful not to let his nails scrape her, and it brought a moan from her that he’d never heard anyone make. guttural, coming from the very depths of her lungs, her vocal cords, from her very core. it made him shudder. he repeated the motion, slower one time, then faster the next, all the while watching her reaction. he loved seeing her eyes shut, her cheeks become redder, her lips parting, stretching, pushing breaths and whimpers out from between them. Coryo felt one of her hands sliding up into his hair, and he groaned. her hips bucked and she grabbed onto his perfect curls between her fingers when he reached farther inside her with his two fingers, and it made them both moan into each other’s mouths, y/n letting his lips rest over hers. he’d reached that great point inside her, feeling her hot and spongy against his digits. it’s almost like she was sucking him in. “you’re so good for me,” Coryo told her and y/n whimpered at the praise. 

“more, please,” she begged with no shame and Coryo obliged, picking up the pace of his fingers and massaging over her folds with his thumb all the while. when he accidentally grazed over her clit, y/n made a high-pitched moan of the utmost sensitivity, and he knew he’d done the right thing. and by accident, no less. he was on the winning team, “Coryo,” she cried with her eyes shut and he noticed a tear on her cheek, kissing over it immediately. next his lips were on hers again, lapping at her tongue with his own like the starving man he was, knowing nothing of tomorrow or the next hour, just so engulfed in her that he knew nothing else. she was the perfect getaway.

he could feel her body behaving in a different way, thighs trembling around him, walls squeezing his hand in, hands nearly powerless, chest shuddering. she wasn’t far off her release, he guessed. with another press to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her cry, Coryo once again watched her reaction in amazement. but he didn’t want to feel her release like this, he needed them both different. Coryo pulled his fingers away, once again making y/n cry out, this time in the most desperation she could manage, and she looked up at him with pleading, tearful eyes. he offered her a gentle smile and moved down her body, dragging her underwear with him. down her legs and away, the light pink garment went, and y/n bit her plump lip in anticipation as she watched him. 

Coryo tucked her underwear into the trousers of his academy uniform that he was still wearing and returned to her body, laying kisses across her thighs on his way up to her. y/n squirmed under and around him, mewled, muttering his name in a mewl here and there, relishing in the feeling of his lips on her untouched skin and his hands roaming all over her body, under her jumper, over it, trying to cover every inch of her. she hated that he had stopped touching her right when she was closest to that one sacred edge she wanted so badly to reach, he was teasing her, taunting her, testing her waters. it was clear to her that he had never done this to another girl before. Coryo was just like her, and yet he’d put up a different façade. 

he dug his fingers into the flesh of her naked hips, which made y/n throw her head back into the sofa cushions, baring her delicious-looking neck to Coryo. he used that to his advantage, licking and kissing at the skin of her neck which he had already bruised marked with his lips just moments ago, he was devouring her with a hunger only she could really satiate, and yet he couldn’t get enough of her. his growing crotch pressed against her bare cunt, and y/n gasped at the feeling. eyebrows scrunched, cheeks and lips red and puffy, she looked up at Coryo again, and he returned the gesture. he took one of her hands in his and guided it down to between them, where he was growing harder and in size, it seemed, watching her face all the while and taking notice of her biting down on her lower lip in anticipation. Coryo made her feel him through his trousers, and he couldn’t hide the effect her touch had on him - shuddering throughout his whole body, eyelids fluttering, he was barely able to utter the next words, but he did so in a quiet voice. “feel what you do to me?” 

y/n nodded with lustful eyes, hungry like the wolf for the boy above her. her boldness came back and with it y/n unzipped Coryo’s custom-made trousers and reached into his boxers to really feel him. he had girth and he was solid, she could feel that all with her hand on him. she was making him a panting mess, giving his length a sure stroke, Coryo’s head falling into the crook of her neck and him moaning, though she knew the piece of his pride that died for him to do that. he hardly let anyone see his inner world, his true feelings, so for him to be this vulnerable with her took a great deal of courage. “do i make you... feel like this often?” y/n asked quietly, and Coryo nodded with a whimper as her finger flicked over his tip, pink and sensitive. y/n wrapped her fingers around his shaft and stroked up and down, slowly, looking at his face all the while, wishing she could see his beautiful eyes now, see the emotions swimming around in the blue of them.

Coryo fisted the pillow right beside her, heavy breaths leaving his parted lips, “yes, yes, yes, god, yes,” he chanted in her ear as the pace of her strokes grew faster, and y/n could feel each breaths in his lungs against her own, his chest rising and hitting against her so intensely. she’d made him crumble beneath her so quickly, it surprised her, “i need you, y/n, i need to feel you,” Coryo confessed and managed the strength to raise his head and look at her again. he was too afraid to utter the phrase i need to be inside you, feeling just too shy all of a sudden to say that. the look on his face was pure desperation, he looked like he could start crying the next moment, and y/n’s heart lurched in her chest at seeing that. seeing and recognising that she could make him as desperate as he’d made her. that she could make him small, “no one’s ever made me feel like this before,” he confessed more, breaking his own façade down, and y/n smiled at him sheepishly. she knew, of course, that what he said was true. she knew everything about him.

“you have me,” she assured him and brought him out of the confine of his boxers, making Coryo breathe in relief. he had felt so restricted in his own clothes, “but god, Coryo, will you fit? you feel too big in my hand,” y/n said shyly and bit down on her lip again, a habit that Coryo had noticed her having for quite a while now, and he looked down between them two. y/n knew her comment went straight to his growing ego, but she just couldn’t resist teasing him a little. and when he caught onto it, he looked at her again, with a smile on his lips this time. she grinned wide and giggled before she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips, as if it was her first time doing so. simple, loving, affectionate. 

suddenly she fully took in the look of his naked torso, his amazingly sculpted shoulders and arms, his pearly chest... the sight of him was so breath-taking and delicious that she nearly forgot all her other surroundings. Coryo, though the look her eyes were giving him flattered him so, took the bull by its horns again and pushed the very tip of his hard length through her folds, where her warm opening welcomed him. y/n felt a strain while Coryo felt the beginning of a true release, but he noticed her awkward expression, felt her hold on his face falter, and he paused his movements to just check in. 

“alright?” he asked quietly, as he couldn’t tell what to do next by her face, “too big for you?” he teased and it made them both smile, then erupt into mad giggles in unison. y/n would never have expected Coryo to have humour in a moment like this, but she was relieved that he did, and god did it make the whole thing easier. she wasn’t worried, wasn’t anxious anymore, wasn’t feeling insecure about any aspect of herself anymore. except the thing she’d heard that happened to most women on their first time – the bleeding, the pain, his reaction to it. those were the few things she wanted to avoid happening. but if Coryo was his sweetheart-self, then she had no bad reaction to worry about. she was glad he was the person she was doing it for the first time with, she’d really lucked out.

“just a little,” she finally answered after their giggle fit while holding each other in their arms, “try going deeper,” she urged in a hushed voice, and Coryo complied, adjusting his hips forward, slowly, not to accidentally hurt her more. he couldn’t deny how incredible this felt, how incredible she felt around him, her walls sucking him right in so tightly, “ohmygodohmygod,” y/n pushed the words out in a quick breath, feeling a burn and stretch inside of her at the size of him. she didn’t have anyone to compare Coryo to, and no one else had been inside her before, but he felt big enough. 

Coryo appreciated her arm on his back, her nails digging half-moons into his pearly skin, and her other hand splayed across his cheek, thumb almost digging a hole in his cheek. “you feel so perfect around me,” Coryo praised against her parted lips, and y/n could only look at him with strain and tears in her eyes as he inched himself further and further inside, her face changing by every inch, it seemed, until he had bottomed out with a groan and she’d only felt a momentary sting of pain. and the worst part was over—what a miracle it was that it had been so quick for her, she’d expected otherwise. Coryo could see the immediate relaxation on her features, and he smiled. 

he kissed away her fallen tears, but more kept falling from her eyes and y/n could only explain them as being happy tears, though she scolded herself for being so emotional in a meaningful moment like this. but maybe it was just right. Coryo smiled at her and she could see his orbs being glossy, too, and she was glad. it was no wonder, really, taking how shaken he was when he came into her home and sat down on her couch beside her. he was still in turmoil, but that didn’t matter now. he had her. 

“can i try... moving? you feel alright?” he asked her in a whisper. this slow thrust inside her had already felt like heaven, he couldn’t wait to repeat it over and over and over. 

y/n nodded, “yeah, go ahead,” she said and Coryo complied. she took in the feeling of him pulling out gently, slowly... teasingly. he was grinning, she saw, and she shook her head in disbelief as a beautiful smile adorned her features. and then he thrust inside her again, stuffing her walls with his great length, making her back arch and moans that she’s never made before escape her lips. he could hardly concentrate, but he didn’t want to miss all the different facial expressions she would make, the look in her eyes, while he made love to her now. he made himself keep his eyes open as he began to move rhythmically now. 

y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist, engulfing him in her more and more, and each of his thrusts earned him a squeak from her from the movements. god, he just adored her beyond measure. she was everything he needed now, and later, and forever. Coryo kissed her neck, licked at it, as he had before, and it only made her moan more, each moan in its own unique high or low pitch, and dig her fingers into whichever part of his skin she was holding. Coryo adored her touches, they turned him on, and he wanted her hands on him always, they were a lifeline. his hands gripped her waist, her sweater bunched just above them, only covering her arms and her breasts, though barely even those from how much Coryo was moving her.

“you're doing so good for me,” he breathed into her ear, and the praise only spurred her on. she clenched around him, and it made Coryo break his focus completely, his head dropping onto y/n’s chest, where he breathed hot air onto her skin, “i’m sorry, i think i’m close,” he confessed, and y/n raised his face with her hands, looking at him with puzzlement across her face. 

“me too, it’s okay,” she assured him and then took one of his hands in hers and lead it down to where their bodies met. she laid his palm over the bulge that had formed in her lower stomach from him. the sight and feel of it made Coryo groan, getting him all the more closer to his release. 

“fuck, that’s amazing,” he said into her neck, and y/n nodded.

“you’re so big, Coryo,” she complimented him again and felt his dick twitch inside her at the words, “made a bump in me,” she put it into words and it made the boy nearly lose his mind. then she guided his hand just a little lower and pressed his hand onto her clit, where he recalled was her most vulnerable point, “come on, touch me. we’ll do it together,” she urged him on in the sweetest of angel voices and Coryo didn’t need to think twice before complying. he loved her ordering him around a little, it was much needed tonight especially. 

he pressed his thumb against her clit as his hips had nearly reached their fastest pace, and watched as her face twisted in pleasure. eyes shutting, lips spasming, closing, opening, teeth biting, voice singing out to him. “oh, Coryo,” she called his name and he felt it go straight to his heart. there wasn’t much more that he needed in order to come now, and he prided in himself for lasting so long at all, all the while feeling a little ashamed about it. he wanted this to last longer. but since he could tell she was coming, too, his thumb drawing harsh circles on her clit to bring it on, he revelled in them both finishing at once. 

“fuuuck, y/n, i love you,” he whimpered into her ear as he spilled himself inside her tightly-squeezing walls while y/n all but chanted his nickname like a mantra. her hands almost drew blood on his back from how tightly she held onto him, and she shuddered around him at the feeling of her own release coating his entire length. her thighs trembled and she panted heavy breaths against his neck. she’d almost missed his quiet confession, she’d actually heard it amidst their joined euphoria, but she had thought it a hallucination. 

but that assumption dissipated as she came to and looked up at Coryo, whose eyes were worriedly, with tears streaming from them, looking down at her. she quickly moved her hands to his cheeks and tried to sit up in their awkward position. best she could do was position herself higher on her pillow against the sofa’s armrest, and she gulped. “you love me?” she echoed in the smallest of voices, searching his eyes. they were worried, fearful. what if he’d said the wrong thing? what if she felt different about him, different than what he felt about her? what if he’d said it too soon? what if he’d just ruined all this with her? 

but he did love her. he was sure of it. so he nodded, his curls bouncing with the confirming movement. y/n ran her hand over them and smiled wide at him. 

“you love me,” she said again, surely this time, in a happy tone of voice. as if she’d discovered the best, most well-wishing secret in the whole world. and perhaps that’s what it was. her favourite secret about Coryo was that she knew he loved her, “i love you, too,” y/n told him before he could assume otherwise, and kissed his trembling lips. Coryo felt on top of the world. he had said the right thing, he’d played his cards right, he’d told her how he felt. of course, his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it in words meant the world to y/n. 

“thank god, you had me worried there for a bit,” Coryo half-joked between their kisses, and it made her laugh. she pulled back from his lips and admired the boy above her. forehead glistening from sweat in the dim lighting, curls messily falling over his beautiful face, his pearly chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. 

“who would i be without a little suspense, huh?” she asked and smiled at him again. she could see complete love and devotion in his eyes, two things she’d seen on his face only partly or half-meant before, and only towards herself. Coryo used the moment of silence to pull out of her and stuff himself back into his trousers. sitting against the sofa cushions to do it, he glanced at her cunt and saw it leaking with his white substance. y/n looked at him with sultry eyes and her teeth biting her lower lip, arms crossed over her chest, and she spread her legs just a little further to tease him with a wider look, “like what you see?” she asked quietly.

he just gave her eyes of total surrender, he was waving the white flag for giving up and he took a deep breath. y/n giggled as Coryo shook his head in disbelief and lowered his face down to her center, once again giving her anticipation. “you look so pretty,” he complimented and ran a finger through her folds, making her shudder as more of the snow-white liquid pooled out and coated her cunt, “pretty with me dripping out of you,” Coryo sneaked a glance up at her and saw the clear-as-day lust in her eyes. feeling that animalistic urge take over him again, he brought out his tongue and lapped up each drop coming out of her. y/n felt sensitive, sore, and Coryo was giving her a mix of both pleasure and pain as he drank at her. she had him right where she wanted him. the question was – would he stay there? 

his tongue prodded at her entrance just a tad, heightening her sensitivity, and he moaned against her folds at her shudder under him, giving her folds a kiss over once he was done. he wanted to leave most of his spill inside her, only having lapped up and gulped down what was excess. sitting up before her, between her legs, Coryo licked his lips and leaned over her form. y/n pulled him in for a kiss, and could taste something salty and something sweet all at once on his lips and tongue. it was both of them. 

“will you please stay?” y/n asked her in her small voice again, looking into Coryo’s eyes. she hoped to not find any resistance or decline, and her hopes were fulfilled. “please,” she plead more as he teased her with his silence. he nodded, and it made her smile wider than ever. he would stay over, like he promised her he would someday. it meant he didn't view her only as a secret anymore. maybe they could even go to Heavensbee hall tomorrow together, maybe hand in hand... “why did you say sorry? about being close?” she reminded him of the few moments before their euphorias. Coryo bent his head low for a moment. 

“just felt embarrassed,” he answered, “about not lasting long. i just... i just wanted this to last longer for you,” he told her and managed to look at her again. y/n made a comforting face and stroked the side of his face. she understood. 

“yeah, but it’s okay,” she assured him, “there will be other times,” she pointed out and laid a kiss to his cheek, “it was your first time, so please don’t worry your beautiful head over it.” Coryo managed a ghost of a smile just for y/n to kiss him and make his smile more life-like. “you did good, Coryo.” those words of praise went straight to his dick again, and he blushed. she had made him blush. y/n giggled. 

“you did great, too,” Coryo told her and kissed her hair, “thank you. i never would have wanted to do this with anyone else but you,” he confessed as they held tight eye contact. y/n’s heart surged at his words. 

“me too. i’m glad it was you,” she said and it made Coryo smile with shut lips, “now, can i get my underwear back?” she’d made a joke again, and Coryo felt like playing along further. 

“no, i’m keeping it,” he said in a hushed voice, shaking his head and y/n made a playful pout. she’d want to make him think he could keep it and that she’d steal it back later, but she couldn’t. Coryo having her underwear in the pocket of his academy trousers made her feel somehow proud. a piece of her with him wherever he goes. and if he went home and stashed them somewhere in his wardrobe cabinet, that would be fine, too. she loved knowing her underwear was a token for him. 

she only said, “alright,” and took his hand in hers, “let’s go shower and then to bed. you’ve exhausted me.” she admitted and Coryo took it as a compliment. he wanted this treacherous-turned-great day to end, too, and she was the cherry on top of it all. he wouldn’t have gone home tonight for anything. 

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[omkookie]

{ SIN LV.3 } Introducing! Your shameless boy who jerks off while you clean his room. You punish Belphie for not helping you by lightly edging him! And you make him do all of the work himself, until you're satisfied and your lust mark feels so hot it makes you take over again.

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Smut, femdom, PIV, oral (on fem), sex toys, light edging, thigh fucking, handjobs, double penetration, Belphegor loves his "Missus" and does as she orders.

One hundred and eight.

One hundred and nine.

One hundred and ten.

You slowly counted the painful amount of doujinshi Belphegor had, all of it lying scattered around his room. Out of pity for Beleth, you offered to help him with cleaning his lazy king's quarters. A decision which you were slowly coming to regret… Oh boy, What a mess it was.

Lewd comics were scattered all around. Empty drink cans piled into a mountain in the corner, and Belphegor had left his used fleshlight lying on top of his nightstand. Speaking of Bephegor– That degenerate was currently sitting on his bed, leaning against some pillows as he shamelessly jerked off behind you.

Fap, fap, fap, fap.

You could hear the wet squelches of his cock as it thrust into yet another fleshlight. He didn't give a single fuck about the fact that he was jerking off with you in the room– hell, he'd even do it Infront of his subordinates if they were here, often getting on Gusion's nerves.

“Ar’ you done yet?” Belphegor calls out to you, asking if you're ready while keeping a watchful eye on your figure. You finally got to wiping his desk clean, and there was no more trash or doujinshi scattered across his room.

“Yes, I'm done,” You sighed in reply, tossing the cleaning rag into a bucket of housekeeping supplies.

Turning around, you notice that he's moved to the edge of the bed, his fleshlight lying discarded somewhere to the side.

“Y’ comin' here then missus?” he asks, gesturing towards his lap. His cock twitched as he posed the question, his gray irises looking at you as intently as ever. He sat there, kimono loosely hanging off of his shoulders as he waited for you to come to him.

“You're not cute. I had to clean your whole room myself, Belphegor.” You told him off as you walked up to him. Despite wanting to, you find yourself unable to deny him because of the lust mark on your abdomen. Heat pooled up in your belly, setting your whole body aflame upon the sight of him looking so…lewd.

“But yer not really mad at me?” Belphegor imposes the question, tilting his head cutely at you while you straddle him. His hands slid up your hips, fondling your soft curves and rubbing them as his cock prodded your thigh.

“You're right. I'm not mad at you, but next time you should help.” Speaking softly, you ended it by grabbing his chin to pull his face towards yours for a kiss.

His lips mingled with yours, tasting, teasing and kissing. The two of you made out sweetly, Your mouths opening to explore one another's. Your tongue pressed against his, twisting and turning before you gently nipped at his lip. Belphegor made a small noise in pleasure. His hands slid down to your ass to grab it, massaging your buttocks as the two of you continued to engage in your steamy exchange.

“Put in that work, push it harder…” Belphegor murmured as you grind your hips down on his cock. His hands made quick work of tugging off your leggings and underwear. He easily pulled them off of your ankles, throwing them to the floor next to his bed.

“It's really hard for me, hm?” You can't help but comment as you rub yourself against his erect cock, “You've been a good boy and keeping your cock hard and ready for me, right? Belphie.”

“Always” he he hums in reply, letting out a small sigh as your pussy presses down against him.

His cock was so pretty, flushed, big, and hard. The piercings on it were your favorite accessories on him. His whole body was embedded with piercings, and they looked so damn good. He had that whole vibe going on which simply drew you in. Looking down at his pretty cock, your mind couldn't keep away from wandering. Maybe next time, you'll buy him some piercings for his cock as a gift?~ you'll love to see him have them on the next time you fuck.

Reaching up, you pushed two fingers into Belphegor's mouth, which he willingly accepted. His lips eagerly suck on your fingers, and he finds himself rolling his tongue around them while you continue to grind against him.

“Wait for a minute.” Your pretty lips said before pausing, You got off of him and reached towards his nightstand to grab his bottle of lube. Getting back on top of him, You drip some of the lube onto his cock, coating it in a decent amount before you close the bottle again.

“...Mmm… that feels nice” He hums in approval, leaning back against the cushions comfortably.

“Ya look so pretty… starin’ down at me like that, missus” he complimented you.

“You're the one who looks pretty” You fired his compliment back at him, pulling him in for another heated kiss. Belphegor smiled into the kiss, his hands raking up your thighs to feel your soft skin. “Ya talk too much” he grumbles, chuckling as you squeeze his shoulders, holding onto him while you continue to rub yourself against his cock.

“Do you think you deserve to be in this pussy?- after you watched me clean your whole room and didn't help me?” Wanting to tease him a bit more, you ran your hands over his pecs while sweetly antagonizing him.

Belphegor suddenly looked like an annoyed cat as his face somewhat fell.

“Tch.” He clicks his tongue, “You're goin' to make me work for it” He grumbled as he sat up, pushing you onto the bed before getting up behind you. He got you on all fours, and you wriggled slightly as he held your thighs together. Stroking your hips, he slowly slid his lubricated cock between your plush thighs. The head nudged your clit, making you bite your lip as a pleasant shudder coursed through you.

“Pretty boy, you're going to fuck my thighs now but you only get to cum when I allow you to.” You state in advance, making your rule for today clear to him.

“Fine.” He grumbles, already grumpy that he has to put in all the work himself- even more crankily now that he's not allowed to cum without your permission.

As his cock slips forward again, you stroke the tip with your hand. Running your fingers teasingly over the bulbous head, you gave it a small tug before he pulled his hips back.

“Mmm… Yeah. ‘at feels good” Belphegor sighs, lazily thrusting his cock between your soft thighs. He slowly pushed forth his hips, letting you run your thumb over the mushrooms-lile tip of his cock before he pulled it back again.

“Such a good boy for me~” You coo at him, continuing to rub his pretty and flushed tip while his fingers clutch your waist.

‘Well that's not good’ Belphegor thinks to himself, gritting his teeth as he tries not to cum. Your praise and consistent rubbing wasn't helping his case much, and he felt ready to bust a nut right now.

“I wanna cum” He whispers in your ear, his warm breath brushing against your earlobe. Continuing to stroke his cock, you dismissed him with a simple “Not yet.” without even considering it.

“Please” He tries to beg, his knees feeling weaker now that he feels so close to the edge. His cock's tip continued to nudge your clit as it slid between your pretty thighs and pussy.

“Not yet, Belphie.” You didn't allow him.

“‘m gonna cum if y’ keep teasin” he rasps out, struggling to contain himself as you so sweetly stimulate him. How could he not cum when your thighs had his cock nudged between them so perfectly?

“Oh. Not a problem. Get me my dildo” you stop stroking him. instead of continuing to please him, you're now ordering him to go fetch one of your toys.

“Y’ can't be serious” he grunts, clenching his teeth in frustration. You're being mean on purpose. You were going to be mean and deny him all night long probably! Nonetheless, he lets go of your waist and goes to fetch one of your toys from a drawer.

He brings back one of your favorite silicone dildos, Giving you his usual resting bitch face as he hands it to you, “Here.”

But you push it back towards him, “Get it wet for me, Belphegor.” You order him while bringing your dildo up to his lips, nudging the tip of it against them. Again, he obeyed and did as you said. His lips parted, and he let you push the toy into his mouth.

“Get it all nice and wet” You coo as you grin at him. He quietly sat back onto the bed as you began to slowly thrust your dildo into his mouth. Pushing it in, you watch as his lips form a perfect “O” shape around the silicone. A small bit of drool slipped down his chin, but you didn’t mind the mess he was making as he sloppily sucked on your toy cock.

“That’s a good boy…” praising him, you pushed the toy further into his mouth until he visibly gagged, his eyes getting teary.

“Guh…glug….guh..”

Belphegor choked on your dildo as it slightly bulged in his throat. You continued to roughly fuck his throat. His jaw was beginning to ache. Still, he didn’t do anything to stop you as you continued to abuse his mouth. He looked so fucking hot! The lust mark on your abdomen was beginning to burn with desire. That familiar need which you couldn't resist was rising in your abdomen, and your pussy was getting wetter by the second as you watched Belphegor sloppily suck on your toy.

Your fingers reach down to feel your wetness, your pussy coating your fingers in slick juices as soon as they make contact with your entrance. You were soaked.

“I think it’s wet enough now”

Whispering to yourself, you pulled your dildo out of Belphegor’s mouth. And got comfortable on his bed. you leaned against his soft cushions before spreading your legs in front of him as he heaved for air. He panted, almost like a dog as he heaved for breath after you had all of your dildo shoved down his throat.

“Come here, Belphie.”

He turns towards you, gulping down his saliva as his eyes fixate on your wet pussy.

“Here”

You hand him your dildo, expecting him to know what to do without having to elaborate further. After all, All of the nights you've spent together must have taught him what to do.

He looked down at your pussy again before taking the dildo into his hand, sitting down on his knees in front of you so that he could get a perfect view of your exposed parts.

Belphegor brought the dildo to your vulva, slowly rubbing the dildo against it and lubricating it further with your juices. He nudged the tip against your entrance, teasing your wet hole with it until he finally slid it in. Inch by inch, it slowly sank into your warm pussy.

“Don’t just push it in, I also want to feel your tongue” Reaching forward, you pushed his head down against your pussy, and Belphegor eagerly lapped at your clit.

He thrust the dildo inside of you, continuing to pump it in and out even as his tongue rubbed and circled your little bundle of nerves.

“Mmm… Just like that” You purred as you melted against the cushion underneath you. Your fingers tangle into his dark hair, and you grip it firmly as he gives you head.

Squelch…Squelch…Squelch.

Wet noises filled the room while Belphegor fucked you with your dildo and teasingly licked your clitoris. Your whole body was tingling as the warmth from his tongue made your lower half burn pleasantly. You got to feel all of the toy pump in and out of you, pressing against all of the spots that made your vision go blank, And the knot in your abdomen was rapidly tightening.

Your body shuddered as Belphegor sucked on your clit, And he looked up to take a glance at your beautiful flushed face. You looked close to orgasm, so he sped up the pace at which he as fucking your dildo into you.

“So pretty ‘n sweet’ f’ me”

Belphegor mumbles against your core, his eyes glazing over with desire and need as he focuses his attention solely on pleasing you. His dick ached uncontrollably, the neglected tip leaking precum as he ate you out. While you were busy grinding your pussy up against his face, He wanted to replace your dildo with his own cock. Hell, he'd even shove his cock right next to your dildo. Point was, he wanted to fuck you so bad, his hard dick was hurting. Yet, here you were still bossing him around, while looking unbothered by how hard he was as you made him fuck that silly toy into you.

“Don’t look so frustrated, Belphie.” You purred sweetly, looking down at him as you continued getting your pussy fucked. “Maybe your turn will come later?” You said out loud, making your words sound more like a question than a promise to him.

“Sayin’ “Maybe” Isn’t convincin’.” Belphegor huffs out, “Maybe you’ll change your mind later ‘n leave me all pent up ‘n frustrated.” He points out, looking a bit grumpy.

“Maybe.” You teased, “We’ll see what happens. You will be good for now, alright?”

“ Ight…” He relents, And there you go again, managing to pacify him despite his sexual frustration.

.

.

.

One, two, three, he’s managed to get you to three orgasms so far, and he’s working you up to your fourth. Your orgasms equaled the same amount of hours you spent cleaning his messy room.

So, to say that he’s pent up now is an understatement. He’s starting to even doubt that he’ll get to cum from you, and not his dumb fleshlight later.

It’s about 11 pm now, and you switched the lights to his room on long time ago.

“That’s enough…” You tell him quietly, feeling your legs grow a bit jelly-like after everything. “Y’ don’ look like you’re satisfied with me yet” Belphegor points out loud, voicing his thoughts clearly.

“Of course I’m not satisfied yet. I have a lot more planned for you.”

Uh-oh.

Usually when you said that you would pull a wild card on him. Considering how things were going all night, he’s sure you’re gonna make him do even more work now.

“What do ya have planned?”

“Stand up, and give me the lube again.”

He does as he's told quietly, his keen eyes watching as you took the bottle then stroked his aching cock.

‘Dammit.’ He grits his teeth, body stiffening as he curses quietly. His dick was too sensitive after all of your neglect to be touched like that all at once. You dripped the cool lube onto the tip, and jerked him off. Pumping the base of his cock faster, and squeezing the tip slower. If he didn’t bust a nut in an embarrassing amount of seconds right now then he’ll praise himself plenty for it later.

His train of thoughts pauses when he notices you're positioning the tip of his cock right at your entrance, next to the dildo. You urge Belphegor to slowly push himself into you after you lubed up and stroked his hard dick.

“Fuck…” You mumble slowly, inhaling as Belphegor’s cock stretches your pussy even further. Having one big cock in you was a lot- but two? If your pussy wasn’t drenched already then she was completely DROWNING right now. The size queen in you literally screamed in delight at the feeling of two cocks inside of you- It didn’t matter if the second one was a toy.

“...shit” Belphegor rasps as he completely bottoms out inside of your pussy. It was so warm, and his cock was getting the cum squeezed out of it with every inch which he pushed into you.

“Wanna know what will make this even better?” You suddenly piped up, asking him cheekily as you grinned to yourself.

“What?” He asks, his eyes focussing on where your hand was reaching down to fiddle with the bottom of the dildo.

“Vrrrrrrrrrr……”

A vibrating sensation made his cock pulse almost as quickly as the noises filled the room.

“Shit… y’ didn’t tell me it was a vibratin’ one” Belphegor groans, slowly pulling out of you before slamming right back in. He continues gripping your hips and pulling you back into him as he thrust forward. His pace was getting sloppy and he was beginning to lose rhythm.

“Don’t cum yet. You’re not allowed to.” You reminded him, noting the usual patterns of his behavior before he cums.

You wanted to tease him more- torment him for a bit longer since you were enjoying yourself so much. The lust mark on your abdomen egged you on, and your stamina wouldn’t die down as fast as a regular person’s would.

Your new plan is thaat you were going to let him cum- remind him he wasn’t allowed to, but not do anything to stop him from doing it. After he disobeyes your orders you would have to punish him! A perfect idea which turns you on so much.

Belphegor kept thrusting inside of you- disregarding your reminder of your earlier order, until he finally came inside of you, filling up your cock-stuffed pussy with his cum. His dick felt so sensitive after that, and the feeling of having it inside of your gummy walls together with the vibrating dildo was too much. He slowly pulled out of you right after he ejaculated.

He flopped onto the bed next to you. His chest heaved, and he panted for air as his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. That was hot- too hot even.

His brain was too fogged up, and he was still relishing as he laid down- the post nut clarity nowhere to be seen yet. He didn’t feel it too much when you grabbed his chest, squishing his pecs under your palms, and flicking his hardened nipples. Belphegor finally regains some of his clarity when he feels your tongue lap at his chest- wet and hot. He bit back a low moan that would escape him, and his face flushed into a deep red.

“Hey… I’m still sensitive” He grumbles out. Your pretty boy quivered as you squished his chest, and licked his nipples. You had an awful amount of energy tonight, and he didn’t know how you were starting to match his demon stamina. But, It all made sense when he glanced down at your body and noticed the shining mark on your abdomen, placed right above your hip.

‘Asmodeus..’ He thought to himself, mentally cursing out the king of lust, yet thanking him for your increase of stamina at the same time.

Belphegor wasn’t too concerned about you getting on top of him, sliding his cock back into you again. This time you got into the cowgirl position, and he would sure as hell enjoy being your power bottom while you’re riding him.

“Oh, Clean this up for me Belphie”

Pushing the tip of your dildo against his lips again, he stared at the used object with some disdain as you were making him suck on it for the second time tonight. At least this time it smelled like you, and your slick juices on it still glistened as he licked the base, rolling his tongue around it before you pushed it further into his mouth.

“Mmm…mm” Belphegor moaned, the stifled sound slipping out muffled as you made him suck on your dildo.

He’d be damned to admit it, but having you ride him while he licked your juices clean off of the toy HE fucked you with was making him feel hot all-over again. Something about your more dominant side turned him on immensely, and he’d fuck his dick a hundred times more into you tonight- even if it was together with your toy again.

Maybe he should be grateful Asmodeus put a lust mark on you and made you such a nymph after all…

ᡣ𐭩 ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ᡣ𐭩

PREVIOUS ← MAIN MENU → NEXT

ᡣ𐭩 ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ᡣ𐭩

[reality-detective]

BOMBSHELL: APRIL 8, 2025 — SUPREME COURT SIDES WITH TRUMP, BLOCKS 16,000 DEEP STATE REHIRES

The Supreme Court just dealt a fatal blow to the Deep State. In a 6–3 ruling, the Court sided with President Trump, reversing a California judge’s order to reinstate 16,000 “probationary” federal employees — the very operatives embedded to sabotage Trump’s return.

THE SHADOW ARMY JUST GOT VAPORIZED.

These weren’t harmless clerks. These were sleeper agents, injected into federal agencies during Biden’s collapse — a last-ditch firewall meant to resist Trump from within.

But the Supreme Court just pulled the plug.

They’re gone. And they’re never coming back.

This isn’t just paperwork. It’s war.

And the battlefield just tilted hard in Trump’s favor.

DEEP STATE LOSES ITS LAST HUMAN SHIELD

That California judge tried to freeze Trump’s purge under the illusion of “workforce protection.” But the Supreme Court didn’t blink. They upheld Trump’s constitutional authority to fire federal employees — especially the unvetted infiltrators posing as probationary hires.

The ruling wasn’t legal housekeeping — it was a wrecking ball through the permanent state.

THIS ISN’T A COURT CASE — IT’S A COUNTEROFFENSIVE

This is part of something bigger. The digital war on bureaucracy is here.

Elon Musk knows it. Trump’s allies know it. The Doge Army knows it.

They’ve had enough of bloated government, censorship, fake regulations, and hostile sabotage of America First innovation.

The swamp is being drained by force.

THE JUDICIAL COUP HAS BEEN EXPOSED

For years, activist judges have hijacked courts to block Trump and shield their regime.

Now the mask is off. The Supreme Court just declared: We’re not your puppets.

This isn’t just a win — it’s a strike against a corrupted judiciary that thought it could operate above the Constitution.

IMPEACHMENT JUST GOT REAL

Now the House GOP has new firepower.

Multiple Republicans are signaling impeachment proceedings against judges who violated the Constitution to stall Trump.

This is no longer political theory. It’s a tactical operation.

The judicial coup didn’t just fail — it got marked for takedown.

THE RESET HAS BEGUN

April 8, 2025: The day the Deep State got burned.

Trump is dismantling their firewall. One institution at a time.

The 16,000 embeds? Blocked.

The rogue judge? Discredited.

The system of sabotage? Malfunctioning.

This isn’t the end. It’s another strike. 🤔

[joaosnovia]

I'm craving some angsty kenan fics. So can you make a fic in which the reader is dating kenan but he always hangs out with his girl best friend. He had promised reader he'd be picking up for a premier night of her movie but he didn't show up. So later reader sees the stories of his girl bestfriend and him with some other friends having fun. Reader packs her bags and leaves for a while saying that she needs a break. Kenan rushes back home but reader is already gone. With happy ending please!

❦ - promises && rain.

summary:: it’s the night of your first movie premiere yet your supposed no1 biggest fan doesn’t attend. you attend his big matches so why doesn’t he attend your successes? he’s not an idiot so he takes it upon himself to make it up to you.

warnings:: angst ofc 😔.

writers note:: so uhm idk why this lowkey took me ages but it’s quite plain so hope you enjoy nonetheless! ALSO IVE FINISHED MY REQUESTS SO PLEASE SEND SOME IF U HAVE IDEAS BC MY CREATIVITY IS OUT.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp ; lmk if u wanna be added or removed!

you glanced at the clock, heart sinking with every passing minute. kenan had promised he’d be there. ‘i won’t miss your premiere for the world,' he’d said, smile so convincing it had been impossible not to believe him. but the empty seat beside you at the theater said otherwise.

your phone buzzed. a flicker of hope, gone as soon as you saw the notification.

notification: instagram - leah added to their story

you shouldn’t look. you knew you shouldn’t. but your fingers moved on their own, tapping the screen. laughter spilled out, kenan, leah, and some friends at a rooftop bar. kenan grinning, arm slung over leah’s shoulder as they posed for a picture, drinks in hand. your stomach twisted. tonight had been your night. the one he promised to show up for. and instead, he was there. with her. again.

you closed the app, jaw tightening as you shoved your phone into your bag. disappointment weighed heavy on your chest, wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. it wasn’t just tonight. it was the calls he missed, the plans he forgot, the way leah always seemed to come first lately. you trusted him, but even trust had limits.

the apartment was quiet when you got home. your heels clicked against the floor as you tossed your keys on the counter. you stared at the framed photo of you and kenan on the shelf, smiling and happy, felt like a lifetime ago.

your suitcase came down from the closet with a thump. clothes were thrown in, not caring what you packed. you scribbled a note, heart pounding.

‘i need space. don’t call. don’t follow me.’

you left it on the counter, fingers hesitating just a second too long. then you turned, grabbed your bag, and walked out the door.

rain hit the windshield in steady patterns as you drove. no destination, just away. away from the hurt. away from the image of kenan laughing with someone who wasn’t you. you didn’t know how far you drove, didn’t care. eventually, you found a small motel, checked in, and curled up on the unfamiliar bed, letting exhaustion drag you under.

three days passed. your phone lit up with missed calls, texts piling up.

'please talk to me.'

'i’m sorry. i messed up.'

'where are you? just tell me you’re safe.'

you stared at the messages but never replied. your chest ached, torn between anger and sadness. between missing him and wanting to forget.

until the knock came.

you didn’t move at first, thinking it was housekeeping. but then

'please... just open the door.'

kenan’s voice. muffled, desperate. your heart lurched. no. no, you needed space.

but your feet betrayed you, carrying you to the door. you opened it and there he was. soaked from the rain, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes rimmed red. he looked like he hadn’t slept. like the weight you felt had been crushing him too.

he breathed, taking a shaky step forward. 'i know you said not to come, but... i couldn’t just let you go like that.'

'kenan—'

'please. just listen.' his voice cracked, hand tugging through his wet hair. 'i was an idiot. i thought i could make it up to you later, that you’d understand... but god, i was so wrong. i should’ve been there. i should’ve chosen you, every time. i just... didn’t think, and that’s on me.'

you swallowed hard, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. 'do you even realize how it felt? waiting for you... looking at those stories... seeing you with her?' your voice broke. 'i needed you. you promised.'

'i know,' he whispered, chest heaving. 'and i broke that promise. i’ll regret it every day if you let me. but please... give me another chance to fix this. i love you. i’m in love with you. and i can’t, i can’t lose you over my stupidity.'

the rain fell heavier around you both, soaking into your clothes, chilling your skin. for a moment, there was only silence, just your hearts beating, broken and hopeful.

and then, you stepped forward. let yourself fall into his arms. his warmth wrapped around you, holding you like you were the most important thing in the world.

'one more chance,' you whispered, voice barely audible against his chest. 'but kenan... no more broken promises.'

'never again,' he swore, pressing his lips to your temple. 'not ever.'

and somehow, standing there in the rain with him, it felt like maybe, just maybe, you’d both find your way back.

[hvnsinureyes]

absolutely loving for jealous!luka being a meanie but also reassuring you that he loves you because he’s still a big softie. also bsf!luka who worships the grounds you walk on but has ungodly amounts of control 🥺 lowkey goes home and gets off to your pics though

in conclusion, i love them both and your writing is stunning as always 😘

warnings | nsfw— m. masturbation, luka fantasizes about you!

luka officially decides that he’s really gone off the deep end.

he’s dead wrong for what he’s doing— but he really can’t help himself. you’re on a girls trip to ibiza, meaning he won’t see you for another week. you’ve texted a few times, but luka’s distanced himself a bit just so you can focus on having fun.

meanwhile, he’s focused on jacking off to the pictures you just sent him. you, his innocent, trusting “best friend”, sending luka pictures to see if he thinks you should post them on your instagram. you look gorgeous, he thinks while scrolling through the bundle of pictures you sent, but his breath hitches when he comes across the second half of them.

pictures of you in a bikini. a tight one, matter of fact.

it’s almost like it was on purpose. like you knew he’s been craving you terribly since you’ve been gone. he tries, really tries to hold himself back and be respectful. jerking off to you like some teenage boy? he’s better than that.

but the way that bikini digs into your skin, really emphasizing the soft rolls of your body and how great your tits look, how could he not? who can blame him for you being so fucking hot?

his hands rub up and down his cock harshly, breaths sharpening when he zooms into your chest, wanting to have a closer look— throwing his back against his pillows in pleasure once notices that your nipples are hard. it’s like he got blessed. they’re poking through, practically teasing him. fuck, fuck, fuck. he can’t stop. he doesn’t want to stop— it’s so shameful, but feels good. the sooner it’s over, the better.

this is really fucked up, he thinks. he wishes he was there. could rip off that joke of a swimsuit off of you, pulling down his own swim trunks. your tits would be the first thing he goes after, wrapping his mouth around your nipples— sucking and playing with them. he’d graze his teeth and bite around one of them, making you squeal, but he’d kiss it better.

or maybe, he’d line his cock again your pussy, rub it between your folds just so he could hear you mewl, saying, “oh, luka, give it to me please!” keep pushing it in and out, making you beg for it, getting his dick wet from your pussy. it would be his punishment for you after kept this heaven away from him for so long.

or maybe he’d just shove it in. fuck you hard and deep to the point where his tip is brushing against your cervix, thighs slapping against each other so loudly that it echoes throughout the whole airbnb. he’d fuck you to the point where no other man could ever make you feel the same way, make you want him to cum inside, mark you up forever.

you’d be so tight. sucking him in, not being able to pull out even if he wanted to. warm and all ready for him to drench in his cum in, god, he’d do anything for it to happen—

then in an instant, he groans your name out, rough and deep, jerking out his cum onto his chest.

it’s silent in his bedroom now. reminds him of how you’re not here and how much he misses you. he can’t stand how lonely it is in his mansion, making a note to go visit your apartment tomorrow. do some housekeeping, water your plants, breathe in your scent, maybe steal a panty or two. y’know, the usual.

luka gets up to clean himself up but then, his phone dings. a notification, from you.

“oh, i forgot!” you text him. 5 more attachments come through.

it’s photos of you posing in red bikini now, shots of your back as you sit on the edge of the pool, looking back at the camera with a teasing look. your back is arched, thong barely covering anything as it’s wedged between your butt.

before luka can stop himself for looking too long, his cock rises back up, hard once again.

“i took more photos today of me at the beach. what do you think of these?”

yeah. he’s going to hell for this one.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 18

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! An unlikely flirtation turns into a dark obsession... Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw/involuntary captivity. all chapters

Eighteen. 十八

Maybe because Donaka watches you streaming how-to videos over the limited access iPad he gives you, a yoga teacher starts coming every other day to the house for an hour session.  

You cannot help but think the gesture is self-serving, keeping you limber for his own gratification, but it gives you something to do while he’s gone. 

It also helps calm you, in the moments when you are sorely tempted to break every expensive antique ceramic he has in the house, starting with the extremely rare pale green Ru Ware vases.

He’s kept his word, not letting you outside the compound since your little escape attempt. On top of the cameras, you feel his security team watching you at all times when he’s out–from a distance, but it’s still unnerving. You’re doing your best to be the goodest of girls–but it’s driving you crazy inside.

You’ve tried to write, but the words do not come easily anymore. Partly because you know he would read them later, and partly?

You feel too overwhelmed to even begin to make sense of this in the shape of words. 

You read instead, spending a great deal of your time in the library. You sprawl in the comfy chairs, but your favored pose is laying on your belly with a book on the floor like you did when you were a child. Partly because it’s comfortable and partly, it gives you the ridiculous psychological illusion of hiding. You are laying like this behind the table when you hear the door open, and recognize just by the confident footfalls who has entered your little sanctum. 

You cannot keep your heart from pounding double-time–depending on his mood, it could be good to see him back from work this early, or very bad.  

“Are my chairs not satisfactory?” he asks, the corner of his mouth pulled just slightly. “Do you require a pillow fort?”

You roll onto your side to look up at him, shrugging. “You’re home early.” It wasn’t even lunchtime yet. 

“I thought you might like to try out my new toy with me.” 

Your initial reaction to this statement is dread. 

The look on your face must tickle his funny bone. He throws back his head and laughs like a real Bond villain. “Not that kind of toy, y/n. Get up.”

You push to your feet, gingerly closing the book you’d been reading. He tilts his head to peruse the cover. “Tai Chi Theory? Forgot I even had that one.”

“It’s kind of interesting,” you play off, reluctant to tip your hand. In fact, you find it very interesting, especially after watching that young man Tiger Chen. You wonder how long you’d have to study, before you could get to pushing hands, the martial side of Tai Chi. 

You feel the weight of his gaze on you, and as usual, suspect you’re not fooling him one bit. He looks you up and down; you’re still in yoga pants and a tank top. “Go put on one of your new dresses,” he tells you. “Casual is fine.” 

His idea of casual and yours differ by vast degrees. 

This is when it sinks in for you: he is taking you out of the house? He watches your face light up like a lightbulb, and his smile widens slightly. “Tik tok, bunny,” he tells you, glancing at the Rolex upon his wrist. 

With a final glance at him you set your book on the table for later, and rocket out of the room. 

A large section of Donaka’s closet has been filled with clothes–for you. Nothing you had any hand in picking out, of course, although you hate to admit…more of them hit the mark than don’t. In your rush you settle on a sleeveless floral Carolina Herrera shirt dress with an A line skirt, and semi-sensible platform wedge sandals by Dior. It’s something you would almost select on your own–minus the three grand price tag.

Jesus H Christ on a cracker. 

Nervous, because you have no idea what he has in mind, you find yourself fidgeting in the closet mirror with a deer-in-the-headlights look. This does not improve for you, when you see him filling the doorway, his arms up on the jambs.   

“I knew that would look nice on you.”

His approval should not make you feel all warm inside, but…oh. His dark eyes in the mirror could start a fire, and you take a shaking breath. 

“Is this ok?” you ask, turning, smoothing your skirt. 

“Perfect.” 

This is when you really notice that he is wearing a khaki colored suit, with a white oxford button down, and it’s such a change from his usual grays and blacks that it almost makes your head spin. It makes him seem…less sinister, somehow, and so dapper your chest aches. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, sidling closer. 

“Nowhere, if you keep looking at me like that,” he answers with a half smile and that smoldering look that makes you weak in the knees. 

The devil shouldn’t be allowed to wear white. It’s entirely too becoming. It makes you forget too much. 

Feeling bold, maybe even a little giddy with the thought of going out, you wrap your arms around his lean torso under his jacket, tilting your head towards his. When his lips touch yours gently it feels like spring rain, like parts of you that were near death inside perk up and sigh, and you know you shouldn’t let yourself feel this way…but it’s too late. Too late by half. 

“Come on, y/n,” he says, taking your hand and tugging you to follow him.

***

You do not really know what you’re looking at, at first, when he leads you out to the circle driveway.

It’s a sports car, of course, its perfect porcelain white paint gleaming like a pearl in the sun, with brushed aluminum trim and crimson accents in the wheels. You can see hints of red leather interior peeking through the tinted windows. 

“Well?” he asks impatiently when you are quiet for too long.

“It’s gorgeous,” you admit, meaning it too.

He grins down at you in a moment of what you believe is pure, unadulterated happiness. “That’s worth 2 million dollars, I suppose.”

You almost trip, and might have bit it if he wasn’t already holding on to you. “What?”

The ‘Just kidding’ does not come. He opens the passenger side door for you with a gallant little wave. “My lady.”

You, however, pause at the door. “Donaka, I’m afraid to even touch this thing.” He was ready to spank you over just tearing a button off a shirt.

He leans on the door, smirking down at you. “Baby, do you know what the mark of true, untouchable, fuck you wealth is?”

You blink in answer. “Umm…no?”

“It’s the fact that we could destroy this thing today, and I could buy another one tomorrow just like it. And there were only 58 ever made.”

You let out a slow breath. You know he is not actually so cavalier with his expensive possessions. And the thought of having that much money to burn…it’s just obscene. Like he can read the transcript of your hesitance, he urges you further.

“Come on, bunny. Let’s have some fun.”

You look at the luxurious blood red leather inside the car. “Should I take my shoes off?”

“Honey, you can put your feet on the dash if you want.” 

It feels like…he actually means it, and it’s hard to reconcile this carefree mood of his with the forbidding man you knew before. Maybe you’re the fool…but you want to believe this side of him is real. You want to believe…that you’re safe. You bite your lip, and he can see your trepidations evaporating with the rising sun. In the end, the chance to go outside the compound is too much temptation to resist. “Okay.”

“Mmm. That’s my girl.”

Hearing those words from his lips should not cross the wires in your brain the way they do. You settle down into the sculpted seat, and he closes the door gently after you. 

You notice something sitting in the floorboard at your feet. As he’s getting in you realize it's a handbag, white leather, red lining. It’s almost cute, that it matches his car. There’s a brightly printed silk scarf inside, as well as sunglasses, hand lotion, and organic lip balm. It’s funny that you didn’t even think to bring a bag, because you have no money or identification to put in it. He’s thought of everything, it seems. 

It’s all damn near sweet, is what it is, and as ever you feel the conflict of rabid want and utmost trepidation with this man. 

He starts the car, and the deep, primal rumble of the motor is like the warning grumble of a jungle cat, low and menacing. How fitting, for the man behind the wheel. 

“You’re going to want that for your hair,” he tells you, nodding at the scarf. 

“Oh?” 

He touches a button, and what you thought was a solid tinted black top slides back with seamless precision, folding somehow into the boot. 

“Holy shit.”

He laughs at your surprise, enjoying your mystification. “They told me this car can go from 0 to 100 kilometers in 2.7 seconds. Should we try it out?”

“Uh…that sounds terrifying,” you answer glibly, folding the scarf in half. Your insides lurch a little when you see Hermès printed in the corner. Then you have a heart-stopping inkling about the bag too. Gold hardware and a decorative lock, and in small gold script, there it is. $30,000 sitting at your feet, minimum. 

Don’t panic. Stay calm.

You can’t help but think that if you had that kind of money to throw around, you would give it to Mei for her sister, and not spend it on a Birkin, or a special edition supercar, or a designer dress that you were pretty sure you could find a lookalike of at Target.

He’s watching these thoughts play across your face with a small smile. You’re sure he knows the gist of them, if not the exact translation. You realize he was right, when he told you so unfalteringly that he knows you better than anyone. 

Fine, you think, trying to put some steel in your spine. Bitching about the price of these gifts to indulge your guilt will get you nothing in the end. You decide that you are going to enjoy your day, so that he enjoys his day, and then you are going to ask him again about Mei tomorrow. Honey over vinegar. 

Flow bitch flow.  

As if on cue, the wound on the inside of your thigh aches as you shift in your seat. It’s not infected, but it’s taking a long time to heal. He lets you wash it, but no ointment is allowed. He wants it to scar–and he’s going to get his wish, the manipulative bastard. 

You look around the interior of the car, admiring the undulating white leather dragon detail sewn into the upholstery between your seats. “This is way cooler than the Lamborghini,” you affirm, winning the smug pleasure you sought. 

“I thought it might appeal to you.”

“Um…what is it?” You don't recognize the stylized logo on the dash. 

He smirks at you, as though for some reason it pleases him that you don’t know. 

“This is a Bugatti Veyron, sweetheart.”

You think you’ve heard of that…in a Lana del Rey song.

Then, like he can’t help himself, he adds, “Year of the Dragon edition.” He lifts his eyebrows as he says this, and it hits you like a shovel–he’s being cute. He seems to get so much enjoyment out of giving you the specs–it’s ridiculously endearing, even if he is mansplaining.

“I see. Well…I shouldn’t like it, but I’m afraid I do,” you begrudgingly admit.

This admission makes him laugh out loud. “I don’t think you realize it yet, but you have expensive taste.” 

You shrug, even while it eats at you inside. “I think you mean I have good taste,” you counter, tracing his long fingers lightly where his hand rests on the console between you. He opens his paw in invitation, and you lace your fingers with his. As his grasp closes upon your smaller hand you can’t help but feel like you have sealed something between the two of you. His heavy gaze upon you only reinforces this impression. 

The corner of his mouth ticks up, as though he senses your trepidation deep down. He doesn’t taunt you though, simply stepping on the gas. The car roars, and you are racing off into the warm embrace of a beautiful South China day.

***

As you drive the winding roads of Hong Kong island, the lush landscape on either side and the glittering blue sea stretching off into the distance, you think you finally understand Donaka Mark’s predilection for high-performing sports cars. These roads are made for such machines, or vice versa, the low slung car hugging the curves with ease. Donaka is a good driver, despite the speed, and you strangely find yourself relaxing for the first time in you don’t know how long, enjoying the ride. This man doesn’t have a death wish. He’s not going to do anything stupid, so you sit back and revel in the breeze, riding the wind with your hand out the window like you used to when you were a child. 

Out the corner of your eye you realize he’s watching you with a small smile, and for once he doesn’t look sinister or conniving. He looks content, and you didn’t have to sacrifice any of your mental or physical wellbeing to get him there.

Miracles happen every day.  

He also looks unfairly handsome behind the wheel of this speed machine, and you can’t help but sigh to yourself. You suppose you could certainly be doing worse with your time. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, curious, but in no hurry. 

“On a little adventure. Have you seen the south end of Tai Tam Road yet?” 

You shake your head. Anytime you took the bus to the Central district from Shek O you just went north. “I haven’t seen any of that part of the island,” you admit. You’d wanted to check out the beaches, but just never got around to it. There was a lot in Hong Kong you had wanted to do, before the necessity arose to try to get the hell out of Dodge. 

“Then today’s your lucky day.” 

You think that might be true in more ways than one. At the juncture he turns left, heading south, and you are happily quiet as you take in the views of the lush mountains along the winding road. You roar over the narrow two lane of the dam of the reservoir, and you close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the cooler air. It’s all so stunning, and over-the-top as it is, this is a pretty epic way to take it all in. 

Donaka catches you smiling to yourself, and squeezes your hand in his. 

“Was it difficult, getting used to driving on the left?” you ask. 

“Who says I had to get used to it?” he counters with a little smile. 

“I guess I just assumed you’re American,” you admit, mostly from the way he talks. “You’re too evil to be Canadian.” 

This makes him laugh out loud, delighted. “You might be surprised, darling.” 

He gives you nothing, and you wonder if he encourages the mystery because he left a life behind as a wanted man, or simply because he enjoys the cloak and dagger of it. You realize that you’ve kind of invented this persona of wickedness for him from gut instinct and what little clues you’ve gathered, but you know nothing for certain. Donaka might be a perfectly upstanding businessman–as upstanding as any multi-millionaire ever can be. Mightn’t he???

You just can’t bring yourself to believe it.

“So…how did you come to live in China?”

He tilts his head, looking over at you with amusement. “Are we playing twenty-questions today?” 

“Just trying to get to know you better.” 

“Why?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not like we’re living together now or anything…” It’s the most politic way you can think of, to describe kidnapping, forced cohabitation, and temporary insanity brought on by the most thrilling quasi-consentual sex of your life.

His lips twist as you think he’s trying to suppress a grin. Instead he presses a surprisingly tender kiss to your fingers, and drives in silence for at least a kilometer before answering, “I came to China a long time ago, to find my father.” 

Sensing the weight of this admission, you hesitate to go forward. But there is that burning curiosity in the back of your brain; you so badly want to know. “Did you find him?”  

“Eventually.” You wait for elaboration, but the silence stretches on. You realize this is not a happy subject for him, and you congratulate yourself on your talent for always pinpointing the exact wrong thing to say to ruin a beautiful day. This is why you prefer writing conversations down to having them in real time. You always, inevitably, unfailingly, fuck up. 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, sinking into your seat, looking out over the stunning landscape rolling before you and feeling incredibly stupid. Once again, it seems, you’ve forgotten your place. Mistresses don’t ask these things, do they? You’re supposed to be pretty and fuckable and entertaining, and don’t forget your role on the odd days when it feels like you might mean more than that to him. 

“Don’t be,” he forgives you with a grace that absolutely surprises you. “I appreciate that you want to know me, y/n. But there are things you don’t want to know. Do you understand?”

“Yes and no,” you admit cautiously. “Are these things I don’t want to know, or things you don’t want me to know?” 

He smiles ruefully at that. “Both.”

Maybe you already knew that, deep down. You try to tell yourself that it doesn’t matter. That you’re not staying any longer than you have to, no matter what he says to scare you, or beguile you, and no matter how it seems that he’s being sweet because it has to be a manipulative lie. That someday you’re going to get your opportunity, and you’re going to bounce. And most important of all: you are not falling in love with this man. You’re telling yourself all of this…but the foremost part of your brain, whatever is responsible for what you are doing now, in this moment–isn’t paying one bit of attention. It likes this handsome monster of a man beside you, in his beautiful suit, with his wicked fast car. It likes where you are right now, and it’s telling your longterm survival instincts to fuck the fuck off. 

His thumb strokes yours gently on the center console between you, back and forth as he thinks. “I haven’t had an easy life, y/n,” he finally admits. “I learned early on that if you want anything worth having, you have to take it, because no one will hand it to you.” It’s possible that you hold your breath at hearing this, thinking about the way he up and took you. “Not that he meant to, but the one good thing my father taught me, was the lengths the rich will go to, to protect their wealth. I’ve made a career capitalizing on that, and it’s gone well for me.” 

You suppose you can’t argue with that. 

Vague as his admission was, it does explain certain things about Donaka Mark to you. It almost startles you, when he flashes that smile that is so much like a tiger showing its fangs. “And now I know you will pick apart every little syllable I’ve just said, trying to get the most information you can out of it.” 

It’s so spot on that you look away, embarrassed by how ridiculous you are, and how well he knows it too. But he squeezes your hand, calling your attention back to him. He doesn’t say anything more, but the warm way he looks at you…it should be illegal. You’re not sure you’ll ever be free, when he turns the full power of that smoldering gaze upon you. 

Inexplicably flushed, you look at the road ahead. There’s a straight away coming up, the azure sea beyond glittering like a blanket of brilliant cut diamonds. “I thought you said this car was fast?” you challenge, and even though you know he knows you’re changing the subject, he rises to your challenge with a smirk, and a roar of the engine as the Bugatti rockets forward down the highway. 

You laugh with unfettered joy as he passes a slower car, slicing back into your lane with a foot to spare in front of an oncoming truck, and you decide that maybe the both of you have gone a little mad amidst this thing that has grown between you, taken hold of your sanity like a strangler vine. 

all chapters.

____________________

*the car is a Bugatti Veyron, Wei Long Grand Sport 2012 Year of the Dragon edition. You can google it if you want more specs. I’m not big into cars or anything but I thought it was pretty frickin’ cool. 😂

The route they take on Hong Kong island: (I love maps I'm sorry 😆)

[billythesimp]

Can you do romantic headcanons for a Billy Kid x Android!Reader that is doll-like, lives in Tin Master's cafe, works alongside Victoria's Housekeeping, and fights with a fencing sword please?

Billy, my starlight. My king of robotics and weaponry. Yes, I can do so for you.

Coffee Cup Love

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…

I love Tin Master's shop. Imma always complain that you can't get another cup of coffee from either locations after having one. Like how do you know I had a cup on sixth street? let me talk to management if y'all are stalking me.

Billy x Android!reader

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡…⋙

tw: none

✦ It’s a surprise to the proxies when they are introduced to Billy’s significant other who worked at their local coffee shop. The Victorian servant outfit they wear stands out as they greet them before offering them a cup of their newest brew. Billy is standing on the side, fawning over how gracefully they turn and bend, all their movements coordinated smoothly like that of a perfectly poured expresso.

✦He mentioned how they first met in a hollow, during on of his missions for the Cunning Hares, he ended up trapped and lost for what felt like hours. Then, like a beacon of hope the ethereals that were on his tail were sliced to bits, his heroin standing before him with a long-pointed blade aimed at his face. He only stared in awe before stumbling over his words to thank them properly.

✦ At first, they were standoffish, confused as to why this android male was guessing over them like so, proclaiming as glamorous as a starlight knight, rushing towards battle with nothing but their fences in hand, their uniform clean and prestige Lycaon would have their head should they return dirtied like last time. No long after then, he finally left the hollow and the mystery android-servant disappeared. 

✦ Shortly after, he spotted them in Tin Master’s shop and rushed in spouting how he recognized them. Staying for a cup and chatting with them. This became a regular thing before long, the maidroid looking forward to his visits until he popped the question and asked them out. They said yes, warmed at the thought of going out with this handsome droid and now to the present, they are one of the cutest couples to date.

✦ Since they are part-time at the coffee shop, the rest of their time is spent at the Victorian Housekeeping warehouse nearby, often texting Billy about their day or making plans for another movie date. Their own co-workers grow surprised by this revelation as in the past, they showed no interest in making connections or even taking a person as their parent. But they only shrug and state that their AI is simply more advanced and adapts to change faster. Really it’s that Billy had brought down a wall and revealed a side of them they hadn’t realized they loved. 

✦ At this point, they remember all his favorite scenes from his most watched films, his favorite brand of lubricant for his guns and joints, and all the places he frequents often whenever he mentions his days. While yes, they are a perfect machine made for scalping and slicing down their targets with grace and pose, when they are with Billy they are nothing more than his perfect doll, pretty and patient with his antics and laughing at all his jokes. Every moment spend with each other is once they hold dearly to their circuit boards, hoping to recover these memories in the future to look back on.

✦ They are unique and complement Billy well, while he’s sometimes seen as intimidating and mysterious to the outsiders eyes, they’re beautiful and polite that anyone can stare with no fear but rather admiration. When in reality, he is easygoing and a little careless while they are known as a monster with their thin-piercing blades, a threat to anyone who dares come between them and their Billy. Together they are fierce in battle, having each others back when the going gets rough. And even outside of battle, they are a power couple, a force to be reckoned with.

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening: Reimagined pt. 1🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/ Vampire Austin! Elvis x reader)

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Elvis is fighting his need for blood, making him weaker by the day. Then you walk into his life, making you the perfect target for his next meal. But an unknown force is making this more difficult than he expected... [Elvis' Perspective]

TW: Cussing, heavy mentions of blood

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Hello everyone! Happy October 1st! As much as I dislike fall, I LOVE spooky season. 🤭We're kicking off the month with Vampire Elvis in a new reimagined story. I'm very excited to be writing this and has been on my mind for quite some time! I love how the story turned out but this was another path I played with for a while. It's a different view and there will be interesting twists coming soon! Please enjoy!

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3! Hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

February, 1973 🩸

His eyes burned with pain and his throat felt on fire from thirst. He hadn’t fed in a few days of being back in Las Vegas and he was really feeling the ramifications of it. He knew he needed to take better care of himself. It was doing him no good starving himself for long periods of time. It just made him thirstier and more of a risk to be around any humans. 

His lack of control posed many threats to the people around him and his career. Singing in front of thousands of people every night, all of them smelling more tempting than the last, made him easily distracted. He loved performing, that’s what he was made to do, but if all he can think of was blood, he couldn’t perform the way he should. 

This place was a never ending distraction for Elvis and he secretly liked it. He liked he could feed as much as he wanted and not get obscure attention for it. People loved him, he was thankful for that, but here people came for miles to see him and wanted to get as close as possible to him. He hadn’t been performing in the 60s and his fans missed him. He welcomed it and it just gave him an easier way to feed. 

Everyone wanted to be invited to an Elvis party. That was the best thing anyone could hope for. For Elvis, it was his favorite time to feed. He’d sit in his normal chair that would be in the corner of the suite and like clockwork, people would come by one by one hoping to meet Elvis. The suite would normally be so packed that no one would see him take a bite from anyone. His men would normally block off most of the crowd so no one would see what he was doing in the corner. They controlled the people who wanted to see him and not let any wandering eyes see him feed.

Compelling them was the easiest way to get someone close to him but the girls, oh the girls wanted to be as close to him as possible without needing to be compelled. It was less work for him which he liked. They wanted his attention desperately and he could sense how they were wanting him sexually. He was too hungry to focus on something like that usually. Every once in a while he would please them but not before feeding from them first. 

He got word that a new housekeeper would start tomorrow and he grew anxious. He had the same housekeeper the last four years and she was never an issue. She kept to herself, didn’t ask too many questions, and sometimes, he’d feed off of her. Right at three, she’d normally come up, clean for a bit before he compelled her to come to him and let him feed. It was the perfect routine. She was never scared of him forgot all about it by the end of her shift. 

Now he’d have to start all over again with you. He’d have to earn your trust a bit so he can get close to you with out scaring you off. But he was quite apprehensive about that. His control was limited and having to meet a new person that would be around for hours on end was going to be tough. 

*

It was a minute before three and Elvis paced his bedroom nervously. He couldn’t do this. He was so starved and wasn’t sure if he could stop himself from feeding on a human. He tried to drink some blood from a blood bag but it was no use. It tasted like water compared to something fresh. He tried to calm himself down, he couldn’t freak you out the second you walked into the room. 

The sound of your nervous heartbeat made his eyes flash open. Just the sound of your heart has him drooling. You were apprehensive too and he liked that you were feeling the same way. It meant he could savor the sound of your heart as you stood before him and he wouldn’t have to do any extra work. He puts on his jacket and takes a look at himself in the mirror. He ran his hand through his hair and straightened out his tucked in shirt. His eyes were always the most telling thing when he was hungry. They haven’t been that illustrious blue he was born with. Lately they’re dark pools of a tumultuous sea. They were almost leaning black in dark lighting which made it more obvious he was not human. He picks up his gold sunglasses off the side table and puts them on. He had been making this a habit the last few years and thankfully no one questioned his fashion choice.

He hears the front door open and the sound of your heart beating loudly and uncontrollably. It enticed him and he needs to take a few deep breaths before walking out there to see you. He finally finds the strength to calmly leave the bedroom and greet you. The door opens and your scent hits him like a train, he has to hold his breath so his fangs won’t descend. Oh God this wasn’t good. He didn’t expect to be so taken back by your scent. He snaps himself out of his thirst driven thoughts and straightens his posture before speaking. You had your back turn to him, taking in the whole suite and what a disaster it is after last night’s party.

“About time you showed up,” he says gruffly.

You turn around quickly and he feels his heart shudder in his chest. You were beautiful. You were probably the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. You weren’t plain like most humans, no, you were exceptionally beautiful. You had that immortal perfection that only came with being turned. He listens to your heart beat again, checking if you are indeed human. It dances away as you look at him and witness him for the first time.

“I’m very sorry to keep you waiting Mr. Presley. My name is y/n, I’m your new housekeeper.” You say timidly, placing out your hand in front of you to shake his.

He can’t touch you, he doesn’t trust himself to feel your warm skin on his before pulling you in and sinking his teeth into you. He just stares at your hand reached out and doesn’t move an inch. You get nervous and quickly put it down.

“Umm, where would you like me to start cleaning?” You ask, your voice upbeat and trying to hide the fact of feeling like this is rejection in some form. 

“Where do you think,” he snaps coldly. He winces at himself for being so abrasive toward you but it was the only way for him to keep a hold on his raging thirst. It was extremely difficult to be this close to you. He had never had such an issue with a human before. Sure, the smell of their blood made him hungry but this was much worse. You smelled sweet like honey and he was dying to know what you tasted like, slowly running through his veins when he fed.

“Okay, no problem. Do you mind if I open the drapes so I can see what I’m cleaning?” You ask with a smile. 

“I don’t care, just get it done,” he says coldly. He walks away from you and he tries to slow his breathing. Each breath in was excruciating for him. The entirety of your presence was making him feel intoxicated and ravenous.  He sits down in his usual chair and watches you open the heavy curtains. The sunshine fills the room and makes him wince a bit. He was used to the way the sun felt on his skin but it still wasn’t the most comfortable feeling in the world. It shone on his entire body and singed his chest and face. At least it made him a bit distracted for now and didn’t have him obsessing about your scent.

He watches you look at him with a desperation. You couldn’t help but love the sight before you. He grimly smirks to himself, he knew his looks drew people in and there was nothing he wanted more than to pull you in closer. He wanted you here on his lap with his teeth sunk into your warm neck. He bites his lip, trying to not think about that scenario too long or his fangs would show. 

But it was no use, you were so tempting to him. He must be so starved that he can’t even think straight. He’s hardly breathing as each breath he takes makes it more excruciating than the last. His mouth watered at just the sight of you. Elvis followed you to every room you cleaned partly because he didn’t want to be away from your thunderous heart but also he was trying to map out where he should bite you.

There were too many options for him to choose from. He can just turn you around and bite you as you were sure to scream. No, that wouldn’t be as enjoyable. He knew he had to compel you to get closer to him. He needed to gain that trust and quickly. You were nervous as you noticed him following your every step. He would stay abnormally close behind you which only made you feel more on edge. 

Going back out to the living room, he can feel his mouth water and his heart hammer away at the thought of feasting on you. He needed to hurry up and decide how and where he was going to bite you. Something about holding you in his arms seemed pleasing and the ideal way to feed on you. He wanted to feel your heart beat close to his. Maybe he can take you into the bedroom, tease you for a bit to get your heart racing even more. No he didn’t have the patience for that tonight. He needed you now. No charades or stalling. He needed to compel you now, get you on his lap and feed until his heart was content.

You were still too antsy and wouldn’t stay still. He has to this quickly and efficiently.

“There’s a bottle underneath the piano,” he grumbles.

You quickly make it to the piano and set the bench aside, kneeling down on your knees to crawl underneath.

Now, its time to feed off of her or you might just die, he thinks to himself.

He watches you scan for the bottle but there isn’t one. He sits on the piano bench and waits for you to crawl back out. His chest heaves in anticipation and feels his mind haze over in a feeding frenzy. He feels his eyes start to shift and the black veins start to crack across his face. He winces as he tries to hold back this monster inside of him who craves blood so much but its no use. He opens his eyes and can feel the burning red heat of them. His canine teeth sharpen into long fangs, both top and bottom and he starts to tremble.

You stand back up and he grabs your hand. You gasp when you see his face.

“Sit down honey, don’t panic,” he compels you. Your eyes blow open, scared out of your mind.

“Oh my God!…W-what the hell,” you quiver, your heart galloping uncontrollably.

Elvis is a bit baffled you didn’t listen to his command. Maybe he was so starved he couldn’t compel anyone that easily. It couldn’t be though, he had found himself in a lot of situations where he was starved but always was able to compel and feed off of someone with ease. He won’t give up this easily, he needed to feed.

“I said sit down honey, I need you close,” he says smoothly, trying to compel you again. You shake and nod your head at him, carefully taking a seat next to him. 

“Don’t hurt me please,” you beg.

How is she fighting me? How is this possible?

His patience was running dry. The drunken haze of your blood being so close to him has him not thinking clearly any more. He needed to bite you.

“You won’t remember this I promise,” he says gruffly.

He pulls you close, wrapping his hand gently around your neck and bares it to him. You cry out for help, scared out of your mind. He growls contently as he lets his hunger take over. He sinks his teeth into your neck and his eyes roll back when he tastes you. God he had never tasted something to delectable and savory. Each drink he took was better than the last. He gulps your blood greedily and pulls you onto his lap. He needed you closer. He wanted to feel your heart beat against his. You whimper because of this and pull at the lapel of his jacket. You liked being this close to him even though his bite was excruciating and he keeps drinking. You gasp for breath as pain rocketed through your entire body.

Elvis didn’t want to stop feeding, you were too delicious and he had never felt so fulfilled. He makes soft, pleased groans as his hands slither down your back and tries to comfort you through the pain. He liked how you felt in his arms, it was a new experience for Elvis. He could sense how much you liked his touch through this all even though his bite made you uncomfortable. His mind starts to wander and think if he should make love to you. He didn’t like causing you pain and wanted you to feel something good after all of this.

He squeezes his eyes shut, dismissing such an idea. He needed to focus on getting his strength up. It was working though, he felt his strength rise and felt so much more alive. He needed to stop feeding soon or else his venom would enter your body, changing you into a vampire. Your body began to feel weak in his arms, whimpering for him to stop biting you. You gasp for breath as he takes the last few mouthfuls of your blood. Everything inside of him told him to keep biting you but he fought those instincts as hard as he could. 

He carefully takes his fangs out of you and gasps for breath. He felt like he was in a euphoric haze, so completely drunk on you. You lift your head back to look at his terrifying eyes. You were frightened beyond belief and shoved at his chest to get away from him. You fall back and hit the ground, scooting away from him as quickly as you can.

“What are you?! Oh my god what did you do to me?!” You scream at him, bringing your hand to the open wound on your neck. Tears started to fall down your cheeks as you panic over what he did to you. Your blood still flowed out of your neck and made Elvis still feel ravenous by the sight.

Elvis stares astonished at you. How were you still not compelled? It couldn’t be possible! He grew frustrated and needed to get you out of here and forget all about this afternoon. He gets up and wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist. He felt as strong as he has ever been. It was a huge change and he liked how he felt.

“I didn’t bite you, you’re not going to remember the pain or any of this, go home now,” he compels. He felt incredibly strong and was sure you’d obey this time.

You stare at him stunned and don’t move.

“What! No! What did you do to me?” You scream.

Panic begins to set in and he goes to you and picks you up off the floor. He looks into your eyes, anger starting to take over him. Why weren’t you listening? He could make anyone obey him without even trying normally.

“What is wrong with you? Why won’t you listen? Why won’t you forget,” he growls. You shriek in fear looking into his soulless red eyes and his sharp fangs close to your face again.

“What’s wrong with me?! What the hell is wrong with you?! You’re a-, you’re a vampire!” You scream at the top of your lungs and twist out of his grasp.

You quickly run to the door, needing to get out of here as quickly as possible and get help.

“Help! Help me!’ You scream.

In a blink of an eye, Elvis runs to the front door blocking your way. You scream again completely shocked, not expecting him to be so quick. His brain scrambles what to do about you. It’s the biggest rule of being a vampire; don’t let your existence be known to humans. It should be pretty simple. He never fed out in public and always did it secluded to ensure his privacy. But for whatever reason, you could not be compelled. He was at his peak strength at nothing was working on you.

“Let me go!” You yell at him.

He shakes his head at you, “I-I can’t. I can’t let you leave,” he says nervously.

“What are you going to do to me?” You ask anxiously.

“That’s something I need to figure out,” he says darkly.

*

*

Tagging:

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy_

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog.

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs @sloppiest-of-jos

[x-heesy]

𝙻 𝚘 𝚟 𝚎 🐱 🐶

He considered kittens to be the most capable models.

Harry Whittier Frees had been photographing animals since 1902, but began dressing them up in tiny costumes a few years later when a paper hat accidentally ended up on a cat's head at a family birthday dinner. Fries captured the animal and sold the photo to a postcard manufacturer, who ordered even more similar pictures.

The photographer borrowed young models from neighbors, friends and local pet stores. He dressed them up in costumes made by his mother and housekeeper, arranged them in planned poses and took photographs.

This activity was quite unnerving and monotonous, so Fries was engaged in filming for three months a year, and the rest of the time he rested and came up with new ideas.

His photographs have been widely reproduced in postcards, advertisements, magazines and children's books. Often the photographs were accompanied by short stories written by Fries himself.

#mybestfriendisananimal #thelittlethingsarethebigthings #cats #catsofinstagram #catstagram #katzenliebe #mietzekatze #catsagram #catscatscats #catsoftheworld #catsoftheday #catslover #catsgram #catsofinsta #catsoninstagram #catsfollowers #catslovers #catsofday #catsareawesome #catsdaily #catsloversworld #catsmeow #catscircus #cats_of_world #dailycats #beautifulcats #catsofworld #cats_of_day #catloversclub #catstagram #meow #lovecats #petlovers #adorablecats #catsareawesome #cats_of_instagram #cat_of_instagram #kittycatn #dogs #dogsofinstagram #dogstagram #dogsofinsta #dogslife #dogsofinstgram #dogsandpals #dogslover #dogsoftheday #dogsworld #dogsarefamily #instadogs #cutedogs #dogsarethebest #dogslovers #instagramdogs #dogsoftheworld #dogsplaying #lovedogs #dogsgram #hundeliebe #hundeaufinstagram #hundeleben #hundeglück #hundefreunde #hundewelt #puppyloves #puppylove #puppy #puppyloversofinstagram #dogsofinstagram #doglover #dog #puppylife #puppies #puppygram #puppylover #doggiesofinstagram #doglife #cutedoggies #puppylovers #cutedogsdaily #mydogsthecutest #dogloverclub #ilovemydog #puppyfun #dogsofinsta #dogloversofig #instapuppylove #dogloversofinstagram #dogselfies #dogs #cutepuppies #instapuppys #puppypaws #moody

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝1

𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚋𝚢 𝙱𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝙼𝚌𝙵𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗 🎧

[bennetsbonnet]

Another day, another major media outlet feeding into the general public's misunderstanding of Mr Darcy's character. Today it's this beaut from Sky News:

*Deep sigh* ... I'm tired.

To start with, the question posed beneath the headline is ridiculous. The short answer to wondering whether younger readers would only pick up Pride and Prejudice if it had a 'sexier rewrite' is no. The long answer is HELL NO. The longest answer, I do not currently possess the energy to construct... but, in short: so much of the enduring, cross-generation appeal of the story is the repressed emotions and those consequent moments when characters are pushed to their limits and forced to express them. The novel is not inherently lacking because Jane Austen couldn't write about such a subject; even if she could, sex really isn't a chief concern of the story, nor what makes it appealing.

Pride and Prejudice is a comedy of manners.

It is not a romance. There are romantic elements, yes, but above all, it is a deeply funny book packed with far more witty than romantic dialogue.

Anyway, back to the article. The headline is a quote taken from an interview with an author who, I assume, shoved Jane Austen into their title in order to shift a few more copies:

Nichi Hodgson - whose book The Curious History Of Dating: From Jane Austen To Tinder compares Regency romance to now - understands how the "rituals of the era" can sometimes be "a stumbling block for people that want to read the stories". "But if you do read the books it really is about the emotions and characters," she insists. "Mr Darcy… at the beginning, he's kind of a bad lad. The key tenants of the connection… wanting to kiss all night, you know, that's still appealing to people."

Bad lad. BAD LAD?! Clunky phrasing aside, who on earth are you describing?! because it certainly isn't Mr Darcy...

Mr Darcy is not 'bad,' not even at the beginning. He is rude, proud and arrogant; yes, he is thought of as the 'proudest, most disagreeable man in the world,' by those gathered at the Meryton assembly, but that is a biased description of him (which he absolutely deserves) based on the opinion of the people he has just met and immediately offended.

But he is not bad. Jane Austen would never have made such a man one of her heroes. Such men exist in her novels, of course, with Wickham as the example in Pride and Prejudice... but he is depicted as being unworthy of our heroine (and instead ends up with her most ill-mannered sister under far from proper circumstances).

In fact, a large part of Mr Darcy's appeal is that he is everything Wickham is not. He never alters in fundamentals, he is shown to have always been a thoroughly decent man, just one who—thanks to his pride—never gave a good account of himself and consequently prejudiced people against him.

How do we know that our hero is good and this kindness is what makes our heroine fall for him?

Well, perhaps the greatest turning point in Elizabeth's sentiment stowards Mr Darcy—aside from his letter—is when she hears the housekeeper's testimony of him at Pemberley in Chapter 43:

[Mrs Reynolds] dwelt with energy on [Mr Darcy's] many merits as they proceeded together up the great staircase. 'He is the best landlord, and the best master,' said she, 'that ever lived; not like the wild young men nowadays, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men.' 'In what an amiable light does this place him!' thought Elizabeth.

And, upon seeing the portrait of Mr Darcy, Mrs Reynolds's words allow Elizabeth to finally view Mr Darcy in an objective manner and she realises that she has been too hasty in judging him so harshly:

The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs. Reynolds was of no trifling nature. What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a master, she considered how many people’s happiness were in his guardianship!—how much of pleasure or pain was it in his power to bestow!—how much of good or evil must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought forward by the housekeeper was favourable to his character, and as she stood before the canvas on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes upon herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before; she remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety of expression.

What a brute!! Doesn't Mr Darcy just sound like the worst man on earth?! But I guess Elizabeth liked a bad boy after all... that's why she was so repulsed by Wickham! He was clearly the morally superior character...🙄

Suffice to say, I will not be checking out that book. All this article really did—apart from irritate me immensely on a Sunday morning—was show me that there might be an interpretation of Mr Darcy that I loathe even more than 'he was just shy/anxious🥺!!'

I'll end with this quote from Elizabeth describing, to her father, the 'bad lad' she has fallen for:

'I do, I do like him,' she replied, with tears in her eyes, 'I love him. Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not know what he really is; then pray do not pain me by speaking of him in such terms.'

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 11

The Second Doctor traveled with Jamie again after his departure while working for the Time Lords. The reason he doesn't remember this is because the Time Lords regularly erased his memory.

The Ice Warriors were originally created as a slave race to serve the Gandorans.

Strax carries dehydrated water in his first aid kit.

Homunculette and Marie are a Time Lord/TARDIS duo who consider each other "companions" and have incredibly intense feelings about one another.

The sexual attraction to humans by non-humans is called humanophilia.

On four separate known occasions, the Doctor has been to the Frost Fair. He took Vicki and Steven, River, Clara, and Bill.

When Missy broke into the Black Archive, she "liberated" a good portion of their inventory, including her "good friend" TOMTIT.

Turlough's great-great-great-great grandfather was part of Trion's royal court.

James Lethbridge-Stewart was the Brigadier's older brother. At a young age, he was forced by the Great Intelligence in an act of revenge against the Brigadier's future self to jump to his death over Golitha Falls. The young Brigadier was too short to retrieve his body. Their memories of James were later removed by the Great Intelligence.

After the year 12,000,000, some humans evolved into Homo solarians and lived inside the sun.

Oswin "Winnie" Clarence, a splinter of Clara Oswald, was a research graduate at Snowcap University in Antarctica. She saved the Twelfth Doctor and Clara Oswald.

There have been many other splinters of Clara. A Constable Oswald filed a missing person's report on Susan Foreman in the 60s. Another was a member of the Happiness Patrol. Another was a Morestran. Etc, etc....

During an adventure with the Seventh Doctor, Chris Cwej had sex with a man named David Daniels. In doing so, he accidentally gave him a metagenic compound from the 30th century that acted as an HIV anti-virus. Harry Sullivan would later discover this compound in 2015 as a potential cure.

The Dragonhunters have a saying that "no Time Lord could be trusted."

The Doctor considered his cousin Arkhew to be inoffensive, gentle, and an unassuming. He said that such traits were "unusual for this family."

Arkhew had a pet scrubber, but his pet was eaten by another cousin named Owis. This made Arkhew hate Owis. Owis later killed Arkhew.

The Kithriarch is another important figure to a Great House. Unlike the Housekeeper, who is a medium between the sentient House and the family and responsible for the House's wellbeing, the Kithriarch is responsible for the social wellbeing of all family members.

The First, Sixth, Eleventh, and Thirteenth Doctors all meddled in the Gunpowder Plot.

Magnus Greel told the Fourth Doctor that he had encountered a Time Agent in the 51st century. Unbeknownst to the Fourth, Greel was referring to the Fifth Doctor, who had posed as a Time Agent.

The Doctor studied under Hippocrates.

The Chancellery Guard is issued a Gallifreyan Army knife. The Doctor had one, but it is marked as property of Castellan Spandrell. He eventually returned it to Spandrell.

The Eighth Doctor once ran into the Seventh Doctor and Ace at the Festival of Britain in 1951 but did not recognize them because he had amnesia at the time.

The Fourth Doctor once became a taxi driver in order to learn about history first-hand.

Raine Creevey was a companion of the Seventh Doctor, who actually assisted in her birth by midwife-ing her mother.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

[vinhteer]

Oh boy here we go!!!! It's been like 10 months. I've been very busy D: Also I fear this is going to be LONG I'm sorry

Design notes:

Aly: "Alec looks blasé as all hell... Oh, wait, that's her sister...?! Must be a family thing, then." - Some bystander LMAO. She didn't have a lot of screentime but I could tell that she's very strong headed. She's basically a kid with an attitude, you know? And also brutally honest; she doesn't seem to be the type to mince her words a lot. She can talk to people, but I don't think she'd fully open up and show her inner world. I thought she'd be part of that closed off looking character trope that's into cute things, so I gave her this semi scene semi preppy look. I think, as a child, since you're still learning about yourself and building your identity, you tend to really want to look like certain people? I think Aly really wanted to do that when she saw scene kids online, so I gave her the hair, the makeup (sorta), the bow, the choker and the lean silhouette. She also likes cute stuff, and it translates visually with the bow as well, the pink, the oversized sweater, the skirt and the mary janes shoes. Facially, I got inspired by a family member! What I think she'd be into: BABYMETAL! Hanabie, Ladybaby, basically cute metal, plus it fits into that trope as well. Since we're still on the topic of songs; MCR, Paramore, 2010s Avril Lavigne could work too. She probably likes monster high, petshops, hello kitty, pucca, shopkins, basically 2000s-2010s things :D

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

Evelyn: She seems to be the type to solely focus on efficiency and go on full-force when it comes to her goals. However, she was still taught to have manners and I bet she has housekeepers to style her appearance. Sure, she can get by the hair and the makeup– it makes her feel professional and well put together. However, the outfits? Uniforms are much more practical. It's stylish and formal and you don't need to think about what to wear the next day. So I had to. Slightly redesign some uniforms. In parallel. I can't lie I was about to rip my hair out. But I did it I guess

For her face; lord have mercy, I had a tough time for a couple months. Like in an older post I made, I thought she was gonna have sharper edges, but then I felt like it was a bit too brute, so I had to smooth it down. I basically sculpted her face. I also got slightlyyy inspired by Katniss Everdeen and Sophie from KOTLC. She's very uhh 2010s novel core but with a little twist, which makes her pretty unique I'd say! So to keep that vibe going on in my design, I overall wanted her to look like the kind of person people wrote beautiful descriptions about. Her pose, the lighting, I just wanted it to highlight her face, hair, basically her vibe.

I also got inspired by 2 ppl in my classes that are like, the studious hard working ppl who also take care of their appearance.

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

Elijah: Taking ummpati's interpretation of him bc I thought it'd be cool and I really like how she wrote him! (we are good friends so I am taking that as immediate consent) (right Pati???? RIGHT???) He's in his 20s, looks like he doesn't shower (he doesn't), looks like a hoarder (most probably is!) and looks like he strolls outside all the time as well like he's homeless or some shit. I tried to make him look intimidating and composed. He has multiple faces, but I decided to just give him a neutral one; blank face but appears like he could do much worse.

I wanted him to look imposing, I wanted him to vaguely look like a VULTURE because he gets rid of corpses :))) #smart #symbolism #bigbrain #Im-Onto-Something-I-Swear. His coat looks like a normal winter coat but the fur is giving viking too, so it doesn't give much of a modern look, which I think works very well! He probably finds the military cool as hell; if Elijah was uh a bit more normal in the head, he'd probably be a soldier. I headcanon his coat, shoes and pants to be from his grandfather who's a war veteran.

I also personally really like how his messy and disorganised look is in parallel with Celeste (in terms of visual language), with the cowl neckline, the necklaces, the tattered pants, etc. On the contrary, Celeste has that zig zag silhouette but Elijah's is sharper, much more imposing. It's just fun seeing their common and opposing traits.

Oh and I added hidden weapons cause it's 1. unnecessary 2. SOOO ELIJAH. The glove you're seeing is a combat glove with gardening claws because he DIYs like that. I wanted claws bc 1. it helps digging a little bit 2. Claws!! Like the ones of a bird!! OF A VULTURE!!! He's a melee guy so I thought it'd be HILARIOUS to give him some weapons. He probably fantasizes about situations where he'd pull them out. He also probably names them.

For his face: I had a classmate who smoked and when my teacher found his electric cig, he was defending it saying that it's better than a normal kind. Needless to say, I used the right guy as a reference /j

[canyouiimagine]

Showed Me | CS55 x Black! Reader

PART 1

Masterlist

✧ Paring: Carlos Sainz jr x Heiress black!reader

✧ Warning: Mean reader, cursing, mentions of cheating.

✧ Summary: In which reader is a bad person but a good friend.

✧ A/N: I obviously don't know Carlos Sainz, this is just for entertainment. <3 Also, English is not my first language so 👉🏾👈🏾.

You and Anna had always been polar opposites. She was nice, you weren't. She was sociable, you weren't. She was passionate, you weren't. But there is one thing you guys had in common, you both hated losing.

Your best friend was currently curled up in your bed. The same bed she hadn't left since she came knocking at your door 2 days ago, bawling her eyes out. For a man. Carlos Sainz - the man she was crying about - was handsome, you'll give her that. But the man was a fluorescent red flag, you could see he was trouble from a mile away. You told her to be careful, but she didn't listen. 

Anna was an optimistic person, you weren't.

Anna and Carlos met almost two years ago at a private party in Ibiza. She had just graduated Valedictorian and wanted to celebrate with a weekend on the island.  It was love at first sight she said.  She was minding her business, dancing to the beat when suddenly she felt someone rubbing up on her and trying to grope her. She turned around to give the person a piece of her mind, but he got mad and raised his hand to hit her. Anna braced herself but nothing came. Instead, she heard – in her words - "a deep sexy voice speaking sexily in Spanish" and saw a tan hand holding the arm of her harasser. 

They started dating shortly after and Anna was over the moon.  To her, Carlos was sweet and caring. He flew her out places, bought her expensive gifts, and gave her his time whenever he could. She was rich, she didn’t need trips and gifts, but she appreciated the thought. To you, he was a prick who had convinced your friend that it would be better to keep their relationship a secret so he could feed her crumbs and use it as an excuse. Carlos was a Formula 1 driver, so they were apart a lot. Sure, she would sometimes attend races, but they couldn’t interact in public. Apparently, the media and fans had bullied his ex-girlfriend into breaking up with him and ever since he had opted to keep his love life private. 

A few months in their relationship he had given her the keys to his mansion in Madrid. “For whenever you miss me” he had said. “It’s our home” he had insisted. Anna went there as often as she could. So often in fact that she knew every corner of it. And the one this Instagram influencer was posing in was no exception. At first, she thought “it has to his cousin or something” but after clicking on her profile and scrolling through her feed she accepted the hard truth, he was cheating on her.  There were pictures upon pictures of her at the same places she had flown to meet up with Carlos. Pictures upon pictures of the same hotels and homes they stayed at together. But the worst part was the timeline of it all. All the posts were made a few days before or after she had been there. Carlos had been cheating on her, perhaps the entire length of their relationship.  Coming to that realization had her spiralling. She didn’t even know who was the side chick, was it her or the other girl? Had he met the both of them at the same time? Were there other girls? She tried asking his housekeepers for answers but all they did was give her looks of pity and sad smiles. She called and tried to confront him but as soon as he understood what was happening he hung up and blocked her.  Carlos was an asshole, and you couldn’t resist the urge to say -

“I told you so.” “Y/N!!” She cried out to you. “But I did, didn’t I?” This might seem harsh but you knew Anna more than anyone and you knew what she needed right now was a slap back to reality. You had let her cry and wallow in her pity for a few days but now she had to get herself together and be the bad bitch she knew herself to be.  “You’re supposed to be supportive! I gave him two years of my life. Two years!” You had been supportive. You had listened to her talk again and again about that man when you didn't even like him! Instead of replying you let out a sigh and caressed what you presumed was her head under the blanket.  

After a few minutes she finally let her head out to look at you, mischief written all over her face.

“Y/NNNN?” She said, smiling. “No.” You replied, giving her a pointed look.

You already knew where this was going. You tried to get up but she grabbed your wrist.

“We can’t let him get away with this, Y/N!” She whined, letting go of your wrist to put your hand in between hers. “We?” You looked at her incredulously. You didn't remember this being a "we" problem. “Who’s we?”

“We need to make him pay Y/N/N.” She said, frowning.

The minute she used your nickname she knew she had won.

Anna Lang was emotional, you weren’t. But Anna was your best friend and there was little you wouldn’t do for her.  She wanted revenge and she knew revenge was what you did best.

Hope you enjoyed it 🥹💖

Here's my ko-fi in case any of you want to support me by giving donations 🥰: https://ko-fi.com/canyouiimagine

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #56: Bunny

Masterlist

content: brief description of a dead body, female whumpee

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

It was not so late as to be dark out, but the evening cast a vignette over everything. The cicadas buzzed outside, but he couldn’t hear their harsh songs inside the car. 

Heather shifted the gear into parking, then glanced at Jackie in the rearview mirror. "“It was important that we allied ourselves with Mary Callaghan. The fact is, Mary has more power and resources than we do. I killed a member of her family. I pose a threat to her. If she had decided to kill me in retaliation, you would be in her custody, and I’m sure you don’t want that. It was necessary to make some sacrifices. You want to ensure our safety, right?”

"Yes," he responded on cue.

"I need you to be polite at the party. Speak when you’re spoken to. Be social. Don't be rude. Don’t drink, if it comes to that. Smile. Lie if you need to. Do whatever is necessary, so long as you don't embarrass me."

He nodded.

“I'm sure you'll manage." Her gaze returned to the front. She twisted the keys out from the ignition. "If you get lost, ask for help. If you get scared, pretend you're not. Don't cry..." She paused. "Actually, just don't cry in front of me. Don't die. That isn't acceptable, either."

“You didn’t tell them about the immortality.”

“Of course not. Nobody would believe that.”

Mary’s house was big, to put it mildly. Bushes of pink and white and yellow flowers lined the cobblestone walkways, curving around a sculpted fountain, which spewed out thin arcs of water into a wide cobblestone base. 

All this scenery was viewed through a large gate, made up of black metal curls and engraved leaves, and narrow but tall bars in between. The property was fairly secluded as well, covered on all sides by a patch of pine trees, a forest even thicker than the woods on Heather’s property.

The view was beautiful, and it was getting better by the second. A pair of white peafowl came strutting down the manicured lawn. This is just ridiculous, he thought. There was a peacock with an impressive king’s-coat of a tail, trailing behind its reedy legs, and a less impressive peahen following close beside. He wondered who fed them. Or had time to tend the garden, for that matter.

A stately middle-aged man, wearing a formal suit, opened the gates. That answered Jackie’s question. The man could only be a servant. A housekeeper or the like. 

Heather was already out of the car. Though Jackie was dreading this, he still followed her. It was evening already. The smell of roses and motor oil was making his stomach churn. He was not wearing the shock collar, thank God, but he didn’t want to see Mary again regardless. 

What he wanted was irrelevant, however. Heather had already started up the pathway with her hand around his wrist. He followed. At least I’m outside. He could run. Past the bushes and the picket fence. Hilarious. I’m sure Heather won’t mind at all. And when Heather didn’t mind something, she locked him in a dark room for three months. There was nowhere to run to, besides, unless he wanted to starve to death in the forest. But there was the door, and they were already up the steps, and Heather had already rung the doorbell. 

Even before the sound could fade away, the door swung open. There stood Mary Callaghan, her face bright and rosy in a full face of makeup, her eyes sparkling. Heather’s previous expression of mild irritation switched in an instant, to mirror hers.

Mary tucked a strand of hair away, cleared her throat, and clasped her hands together. “Heather!”

“Mary.”

“You’re here!”

Heather seemed to falter now that they were finally here, on the verge of falling into uncomfortable silence—but she managed to push Jackie forward. “Say hello, Jackie.”

“Hello, Mrs. Callaghan.”

Mary barely glanced at him. Her attention was fixated all on Heather, hook-line-sinker. “His suit is so cute—did you buy that?”

Heather nodded.

“I have to show Carter��Carter’s here, did you know? And my wife. Katie!” Mary turned around to call her wife’s name. “Kate! Heather’s here! Do come inside. The weather’s awful out there. You can give Peter the butler your things. He’ll take care of it.”

So that was the butler. Peter the butler. Mary disappeared around a corner, and Heather stepped forward, but Jackie lingered behind.

He was studying the fountain. It was some sort of siren. Like a deer in the headlights, her marble surface was lit up by the manor’s bright glare. Water spurted from her eyes, from the arrow wounds in her neck and chest and her spiralled fishtail, from the stigmata marks carved into her palms. Her stone muscles twisted in agony. It was unlike any fountain he’d seen before, certainly, but it still held a degree of serenity. The sound of falling water was gentle under the harsh cicada songs. He could listen to that sound all day.

It was interesting, but he didn’t have time to admire the architecture. Before Heather said anything, he hurried forward. 

Inside, the mansion was even worse. It was absolutely gorgeous. The ceiling was way too high. And there were way too many chandeliers, three whole chandeliers in a row, and that was just the lobby. Two staircases curved up around the main hallway, the beginning of a double helix were it not for the last steps ending on the second floor. He was sure that there was a third floor, too, maybe a fourth. If Heather’s house was the height of luxury, this was… this was really something, all right. 

Peter the butler shut the door behind them. At the same time, another woman entered. Her eyes were dark and her tawny braids fell long and straight, down and over her shoulders. She wore a plain blazer, unlike Mary, who wore a ruffled dark-pink dress. Kate, probably. 

Heather greeted the stranger, but Jackie wasn’t paying attention. If this was the lobby, those rooms upstairs would be bedrooms, or guestrooms, or something similar. And forward, that would be a living room—or whatever name rich people used for the main room. If this was a dinner party, then there was probably a kitchen and a dining room. The floors were shiny, smooth wood, nearly the texture of glass. The ceiling was high, like that of a chapel. Leafy fiddle-figs stood in large ceramic pots, arranged near the main entrance, waxy and oversaturated in green. The only practical piece of furniture he could see was an elegant-looking table, placed in the perfect center of the two staircases. 

And this was just one room. He could not imagine living in such a place. It was far too open, for one thing, and it would take forever to clean. Poor butler. 

This train of sympathetic thought was interrupted by a harsh creak—the door swinging open. Someone entered the lobby.

The stranger lifted a hand in greeting. In his other hand, he was holding an assault rifle. “Hello. You’re Heather, right?”

The gun wasn’t pointed at anyone. But it was an off-putting sight, nevertheless. Jackie backed up a little.

“Yes, I’m Heather.” She put a hand on Jackie’s shoulder so he would stop moving. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And who are you?”

“That’s Carter. My business partner," Kate said.

He gave a grin and a half-shrug. Which was all he could manage, because one shoulder was weighed down by the rifle. His teeth were an unnerving shade of white between his lips. “Hey, who’s that?”

“This is Jackie.” Heather pushed him forward a bit. “He’s my… friend.”

There wasn’t any real word for it, but the implication was clear enough. 

Carter studied him with a half-curious expression. Jackie decided that he hated Carter. So cheerful and easy-going, that blight upon the world. They were horrible, every one of them. He hated them all. 

Already, this was too much. He was tired and he was irritated. The clothes Heather made him wear were scratchy and far too hot for the weather. He wanted to go home. That would have to wait, however—Carter spoke again.

“It’s been lovely, but we’ve had enough chit-chat,” Carter said. “Go ahead. Heather and I will be just a second.”

Jackie watched sourly as Kate departed down the hallway. Mary trotted close behind, though she did give Heather a brief glance before she disappeared completely.

Again, he attempted to step away from Heather. This movement accomplished very little. She held him tighter. Carter hadn’t noticed at all.

“So,” Heather said. “I didn’t know Kate had a business partner.”

Carter laughed. It was a high-pitched sound, like the scraping of metal. “I guess someone has to do the dirty work. I’m not surprised she didn’t want to mention it.”

“Right.” Heather settled for a small smile.

“Yeah, well, that’s how it goes.” Carter ruffled Jackie’s hair, rougher than he honestly needed to. “Your friend’s well behaved. What’s his name?”

“Jackie,” said Heather.

“Cute. Did you name him?”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I… did, actually. Name him.”

“He’s different from Angie.” Carter, at last, leaned away from Jackie. “I can take him off your hands while you're here. The cellar locks from the outside. If that’s okay with you?”

“That’s fine,” she said. “I’ll see you in the parlor, then?”

“Sure. Enjoy yourself.”

Heather disappeared quickly enough behind the shadowed corridor. The lobby was bathed in hollow silence, and he was alone with Carter.

Jackie stared at him. He didn’t have the choice to run, not here, but his posture was tense regardless.

Carter, on the other hand, had not shifted from his amused sort of expression. “What do you look so nervous for?”

That was an easy question to answer. The assault rifle was still poised in Carter’s hand. Magazines and handles stuck out at jutting angles, obsidian-black, and there was a rough fabric strap hanging down its side. The barrel was a slender stick, topped with a round muzzle, with the base braced against the handguard. Fine beads of dirt and grime dotted its surface.

He noticed Jackie’s staring, and held up the gun. “This? Oh, don’t worry. It’s not for you. You can relax now.” Jackie did not relax, but Carter kept talking. “Anyway, I haven’t got all day to waste.” He gestured down the hall, to a door on the right. “The cellar’s that way.”

Carter started forwards and, when Jackie didn’t follow, grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the cellar. Jackie reluctantly stumbled alongside him. The door led to a flight of stairs, leading downwards. They were built on a steep incline, but Carter walked quickly—he came down there often, Jackie guessed. Lights were studded along the ceiling in haphazard angles, but it was darker than the lobby, and the smell of mold and damp wood seeped through everything. 

Carter put a hand on his back, ushering him forward through the cellar door. “There’s a water bottle in the freezer. Someone will be here in a few hours. Don’t break anything while I’m gone.”

Jackie barely had time to find his bearings before the door shut, its latch screeching and locking into place. The damp smell was even stronger, now mixed in with something metallic and rusty and deeply unpleasant. 

The floors were wood planks and the walls were wooden too, although they seemed off-colored and wet in places. The ceiling was comprised of wooden beams, closely fitted together until they almost formed a flat surface. The cellar door didn’t look too well. It wouldn’t break under pressure, but it wasn’t pretty, not like the lobby doors. The wood was roughly carved and poorly fitted to the frame, and the metal doorknob seemed dull in the dim light. Nobody had tried to tidy this place up in a long time.

Which was really quite rude. If Jackie had to spend a few hours somewhere, he would at least appreciate a chair, or something—the only pieces of furniture, he discovered when he turned around, were two full-sized freezers, a metal table, what appeared to be a toolbox, and a pair of oddly familiar handcuffs in the far left corner. One end was attached to a metal loop stuck in the wall and the other, he discovered as his stare drifted downwards, was attached to a wrist. The wrist was attached to a person. Not a corpse, but a living person, sitting down and attempting to gnaw the metal off.

Her head lifted so quickly that her hair, straw-blond and tied into a short ponytail, was thrown sharply backwards. She stood to face Jackie. She was tiny, only reaching his shoulder. There was a long moment as they both stared at each other. The stranger’s eyes were narrowed, and her irises were a blue so dark that they seemed waterlogged, not pale like Mary’s eyes. Her button-up shirt was mostly a clean white, save for a few places where the fabric was stained or torn, and Jackie didn’t notice any injuries. 

Jackie didn’t come any closer. In the corner, shadowed by the freezers, the stranger was cast into near-darkness. The only lights were the reflections in their eyes, sharp and bright as sparks of flint. 

A prisoner in the cellar. Nobody had mentioned this before. It was apparently irrelevant. Two captives and four killers walked into a mansion—it sounded like the start of a bad joke. 

Jackie hesitated. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, as if any loud sounds would startle this sudden apparition. “Are you… Angie?”

“Angie?” The stranger didn’t recognize the name. Angie was dead, anyway—it was a stupid question. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?”

“I asked first.” 

“I’m not the one handcuffed to the wall, am I?” Low-hanging fruit, but Jackie didn’t trust her. “Spit it out already.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits, but she spoke. “I’m Mackenzie-Clarke, private investigator, currently employed by—”

“Mackenzie? Is that your first name?”

“No, but if it’s really that important, you can call me Bunny Macken—”

“Your first name is Bunny?”

That must have hit a nerve—Bunny, or so she was called, did not finish her introduction. She continued tugging on the handcuff, somewhat half-heartedly. There was one injury, actually. Her wrist inside the handcuff was ringed by a bruise, splotched purple and blue, turning green in some places like a rotted fruit. “Don’t interrupt me.”

“My bad.” He lifted his hands in apology. “Keep going.”

“Never mind. It doesn’t work anymore. You ruined it.”

“I don’t know. It sounded pretty impressive to me. Private investigator. That’s a cool job.”

Bunny took this the wrong way. She shut her eyes, perhaps to avoid looking at Jackie any longer than necessary. “If you’re here to kill me, can’t you hurry it up? I don’t care to listen to you prattle.”

“A lot of people say that. But I really like your voice, actually. You have a nice accent. Ireland, right? Keep talking.”

“Go to hell.” Bunny Mackenzie-Clarke opened her eyes to size Jackie up, possibly ruminating on the idea of a physical altercation. “You don’t need to introduce yourself. It doesn’t matter.”

“That’s kind of nihilistic.”

Bunny had no retort. She glared with those deep, dark eyes and waited.

Jackie should have been panicking. He sort of was panicking, but it was a viscous sense of alarm, slow to settle in and slow to be noticed. He wasn’t sure what to do. He never ever imagined such a day would come, finding another person in the same situation as him. Jackie, perhaps irrationally, assumed that he would always be alone here. There was something uniquely unlikable about his being that warranted getting locked in a cellar, and nobody else shared this quality. But here was this stranger, like a mirror-image, scrutinizing Jackie the same way Jackie scrutinized her.

Not the kind of meet-cute he was expecting, but another prisoner was an enemy of his enemy, and everyone knew what great friends those people made. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I’m Jackie. Jackie Rockwell. How long have you been here?”

“Three days.” She glanced at the door. “I assumed Heffner would kill me herself. She doesn’t usually leave it to someone else.”

“Heffner?”

“Kate Heffner.” She paused for a moment, as her gaze shifted to meet Jackie’s. “You do work for her, don’t you?”

“No.”

“Why are you here, then?” Her hostile expression eased into something more gentle, something that might have even been hopeful. "Are you here to help me?”

“If you want.”

“Great. Unlock these handcuffs.” She shook her wrist for emphasis.

“I don’t have the keys.” Jackie turned towards the two freezers. “Do you want some water instead?”

Bunny did seem a little disappointed, but she stopped glaring at Jackie, and the thought of escape seemed to cheer her up. She nodded.

Jackie opened the first freezer. It did not have any water. There was a garbage bag, wrapped around two arms, two legs, a head, a torso. The silhouette of a person. Proof for a client, perhaps. He closed it quickly. 

“Say,” Bunny said, “if you don’t work for Heffner, why are you here? You weren’t expecting to see me. And that freezer seemed to have… surprised you, so you can’t be a client.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” He opened the second freezer—it was empty, except for a single half-frozen plastic bottle of water. “Kate’s sort of like… a friend of a friend. It’s a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“It’s complicated.” He closed the freezer and tossed the bottle over. Bunny caught it, despite her limited range of motion. “Someone asks me to fix their car, then one thing leads to another, and now I’m locked in here. It’s none of your business, anyway.”

“Oh.” Bunny tilted her head to the side. “You’re stuck in this cellar too.”

“I am not.” He tried not to look at Bunny, but it was a lost cause. Those eyes were like sea-glass, with their strange color and their hadal depth. “Okay, I am. But only for an hour. Don’t think we’re in the same boat, Mackenzie-Clarke.”

“Why not, Rockwell?”

“Let me guess. You went after the wrong person.”

“No one is above the law,” she said. “There is no wrong person, just criminals and those who are too incompetent to care. I have proof that Heffner’s been keeping the police quiet. There’s been about four separate missing people, all in this area, and nobody investigated? Don’t you think that’s suspicious?”

 “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Jackie lowered his voice. “Well, I figured that out weeks ago! The police don’t do what they’re supposed to, so what? You got caught anyway. It was all for nothing.”

Bunny ignored his comments. “How did you meet Kate Heffner, then?”

“I didn’t. There’s a lot of criminals in Seattle. There’s a lady with freckles, I don’t know if you’ve seen her. Heather Rodriguez? Does that ring a bell?”

She shook her head.

“Whatever.” Jackie sat down beside the freezers. “We’re never going to see each other again after this. I can’t help you and you can’t help me. You should just forget I was ever here.”

“Maybe so.” Bunny sat down as well. Her cuffed wrist was suspended at an odd and probably uncomfortable angle, but she seemed strangely confident, despite every piece of good advice Jackie had just given her. “How would you describe this Rodriguez person? I’m curious. Does she work with Heffner?”

“No, she’s just friends with Kate’s wife.” For all the times Jackie wanted to complain about Heather, he felt too shy in front of this stranger to speak completely honestly. “Don’t ask me how that happened. She’s easily impressed. You’d think she’d have more self-respect, but they drink tea together once and suddenly they're all lovey-dovey. It’s unbelievable.”

“So what you’re saying,” Bunny said, “is that this Heather person is easy to manipulate. Easily… convinced.”

“I guess. I don’t know. She’s just acting weird lately.”

“Only recently? How long have you known her for?”

“I think…” He counted back the months in his head. “About a year.”

“A year? That’s a long time. You must know her well.”

“I know enough about her.”

“Enough to, maybe, if you think about it…” Bunny trailed off, trying to act nonchalant and failing miserably. “Oh, I don’t know, convince her to… let you visit me? And, you know, hypothetically, maybe this Heather person has a set of keys that unlock these cuffs—”

“Forget about it,” Jackie interrupted. “I’m not going to trick her. It’s not going to work.”

“Well, you can do whatever you’d like. I am going to leave this cellar, and I would really appreciate it if you found me the keys to these handcuffs.”

“How am I supposed to do that? I don’t know who keeps them.” And trying to escape never worked out in his favor. He didn’t want to even entertain the idea. “Besides, it’s too obvious. There’s no reason I’d want to come back to this place.”

“You’re right.” She tapped her knuckles to her mouth and glanced down at the floor. “But we need to communicate. If we’re going to come up with a plan, we should discuss—” At once, she sat up straight. 

“What happened?” Jackie asked, his eyes wide. 

“I have an idea.” She gestured for Jackie to come closer. “Listen. It’s important. I overheard something yesterday, when Carter came down here. I need you to remember exactly what I say…”

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