#and yes obviously it does take place in
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s0fter-sin · 10 months ago
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soapghost circus au
ghost’s an extreme motorcycle stunt performer - globe of death, riding on his back wheel along tightropes, that sort of thing
soap’s a fire breather/dancer. he’s a roaming performer; he just finds empty spaces or bored people and starts twirling
he pretends not to notice the way he always wanders towards a certain tent every night to watch a certain masked daredevil defy gravity. he thinks he's slick and that ghost won't notice him in the crowd, completely forgetting that he's carrying something that happens to be on fire
ghost couldn't miss him if he tried
one day off, soap's trialing fire whips; he loves the loud crack and the way the flame licks through the air and maybe he's a little too impatient to practice with non flaming whips first, even though he's never used one before
he's covered in soot and fine welts where the tip of the whip keeps flicking back up at him, cutting through his shirt and stinging his skin but he doesn't let that stop him. it starts to stick to him, damp with sweat and blood and he's quick to strip it off; throwing it to the side to keep practicing
when soap finally gets a few good cracks in a row and breaks to celebrate, he almost jumps out of his skin when he sees the masked rider leaning against a trailer watching him
of all the times he's wanted ghost to talk to him, this is not one of them
he wanted to impress him, dance for him with his flaming batons and be mesmerised by his fluidity and skill
not catch him filthy and struggling with something as basic as a whip
he's ready for ghost to ream him out for not having control over the whip - he's known throughout the circuit for expecting utter perfection in his routines - but when ghost finally does speak, it's only to ask if he's done for the day
soap falters for a moment. he wanted to get some consistency with the whip before he stopped, but he's starting to feel the hours of practice; muscles aching and skin blistered with minor burns
he says he is and ghost pushes off the trailer, nodding his head to make soap follow. he brings him back to his trailer and tells him to clean up then takes out his personal med kit to treat the grazes on soap's skin
soap's shocked; for all that he loves to watch ghost perform, they've never really talked before
part of why he joined the circus was so he wouldn't be a burden on anyone, the oldest in a family with too many mouths to feed and not even time to nurture, and here he is taking up ghost's valuable practice time bc he wasn't good enough to handle his own discipline. he tries to brush him off, downplaying the burns and tries to leave before half them can be treated but ghost just glares and orders him to sit back down
ghost does expect perfection from himself but it isn’t out of any malice or ego; it's bc he knows if he isn't perfect, he could very easily die. he’s picked a dangerous profession and he gives it the respect it deserves. there isn't any shame in being a novice or failing at something; he thinks there's a lot of beauty in having the courage to get back up again and again
so every day he watches soap practice and bullies him into his trailer to put him back together bc he knows he won't do it by himself
and every night soap wanders over to ghost's section of the fair grounds, in awe of his skill and wishing he could be worthy of the care he gives him
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yellllowstar · 1 month ago
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slowly I'm recovering the beauty of discovery
(creature by half•alive)
(textless + timelapse below cut)
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#yellowart#subnautica#i feel like the timelapse is kinda long but also this did take a long time to make#anyways. let me yap about the meanings of all the panels <3#'i am creation' -> the ocean being the source of life and where shit evolved from also a good way to sort of 'set the scene' for subnautica#'both haunted' -> GHOST leviathan; in the BONE fields#'and holy' -> this one was a bit trickier. debated about using the emperor but i knew i wanted to use her elsewhere#also debated hoverfish because its cute and well liked so i thought that would be funny for 'and holy'#also something something jesus walking on water also makes it fitting. in the end though i decided on a peeper with the enzyme trail#and i *tried* to make it loop over its head like a halo but idk how well that imagery came through. still mentioned it in the alt text tho.#'made in glory' -> was REALLY torn about this one. on the one hand i wanted to have like a picture of the code because something something#divine machine and it being made out of code making it inherently holy or something; but i wasnt sure if that would be too#'immersion breaking' since most of the stuff in this is like in game stuff i wasnt sure if acknowledging that it was a game would be#too much. my other idea was to draw a couple of creature eggs like a stalker egg and a spadefish egg or something; but in the end i just#went with the one that i personally thought was cooler so if you think it does feel out of place uhhhh sorry i guess lmao.#also yes that is code from the game. idk shit about programming i just think code shit is cool so i poked though a modding tutorial til i#found what it is they use to look at that shit and started poking around. its pretty cool tbh. anyways the specific part i chose for the#drawing was something under the peepers; i think its the bit that tells the enzyme peepers to do the enzyme stuff like the trail obviously#but also some other stuff. not 100% sure though like i said idk shit about this sort of thing but everything in there seems pretty well#labeled its kinda impressive. and very helpful for navigating even if you dont know shit lol.#anyways. 'even the depths of the night cannot blind me' -> blood kelp trench is i think one of the darkest biomes in the game#possibly THE darkest so i thought it would be fitting. probably my least favorite panel though i dont think i did a very good job#representing the area or representing the bloodvines :/#'when you guide me' -> sea emperor but more specifically her messages to the player telling you to 'come here'#'creature only' -> not sure how well i can articulate this but basically the idea of humans beig animals with animal needs to eat and drink#and the idea of being a part of the ecosystem. modern life tends to make us forget that sort of thing but id imagine for ryley being on the#planet would violently remind him of this with things trying to eat him while he has to try to eat things as well. being part of the food#web. 'creature only' because he is only a creature not non-essential systems maintenance chief; but a creature living in an environment and#trying to survive. or something like that. does that make any fucking sense to anyone besides me? whatever.#anyways yapping over 👍
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lem-argentum · 4 months ago
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i once saw someone contrast miko.fuu by claiming that f.uuta’s individualistic while mi.koto is not, but i would argue that miko is the one who puts himself first in his mind in most situations…….??? ?
#lem text#🧯 cue-to-cue <3#🎞️#LIKE OK OK I KNOW THE WHOLE THING THAT PUSHED MIKO TO MURDER IN THE FIRST PLACE WAS LETTING HIMSELF BE USED BY OTHER PEOPLE#but LIKE in the grand scheme of things he was always doing all of it for his *own* future benefit. right. Y’KNOW#he ACKNOWLEDGES that his job is harmful to him but goes along w/ whatever’s asked of him with HIS career in mind . yaknow .#even when he worries about being a burden it’s more about his own pride & value of independence right??? yes???#f.uuta is also tricky because like. she’s Unable to fit in easily so she acts the opposite n pretends to be independent and uncaring#but all of her actions were; at their core; driven by her want for community? yes??#LIKE the First thing she does in mlgrm is try to rally everyone together to try and escape and she’s shut down so she becomes distant#liek ​take the timeline convo with k.azui where he gives f.uuta a bank robbery scenario and asks what she’d do#the exchange is obv meant to communicate ‘ooo f.uuta is reckless and acts without thinking’#BUT she says she’d try to take down the culprit *to protect everyone else* even if she wasn’t entirely sure it was safe#see if miko was in that situation he’d Run FNDKDN he’d be thinking about his own safety!!!!#they both try to connect with others in mlgrm; you CAN see that miko DOES enjoy being around the others but he also expresses-#multiple times that he also views it as ways to make liek. networking connections. and he acts polite and friendly for reputation’s sake#he IS a RIDICULOUS people-pleaser to the point where it RUINS his LIFE but he was doing it for his dream yaknow.#‘all i did was dream’ ‘my life wasn’t supposed to turn out this way’ blabla you understand are u seeing what i mean#i guess an important detail is that he’s prioritizing his *future* self instead of his *present* self but it is still himself#obviously they’re very complex characters and cannot be fit into black-n-white boxes of ‘Does Things For Other People/Does Things For Self’#but i think it’s important to see that miko’s actions are not one-to-one indicative of his mindset. or something. YOU GET IT? QUESTION MARK#anyway good morning EHFKNZ <33 shaking these two around at top speeds.
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aropride2 · 2 years ago
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we have gottttt to start shaming people for saying shit like "fuck the police includes the identity/fandom/whatever police" like 😭 regardless of ur opinions on exclusionism or fandom discourse u have to be able to acknowledge that those are not even close to actual real life cops
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lisbonsteresa · 2 years ago
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they make me so
#tm#the way she immediately goes along with him there's no hesitation and then she immediately puts them in the same boat i want to scream#because there's a way to read this that it's actually too much faith; she trusts him and his methods - weird though they usually are -#maybe too much - the 'one day i'm gonna get fired because of you; that's just how it is' route#(which is like that excellent tag i saw - that lisbon's 'a rebel with the trauma of having to be responsible' -#like she likes breaking the rules and jane breaks them in fun ways (usually) and his rule-breaking gets results#- the 'people might ask why you signed on with me in the first place' bit alsosheskindofinlovewithhimnbd)#but on the other hand there is a bit of 'such little faith' too because yes he gets results but she knows firsthand (and repeatedly)#that he runs the risk of hurting - himself; others; her - while he gets those results#and she's putting them in the same boat she's making them equally responsible for anything that happens#*unequally actually she'd take the brunt of any punishment/backlash as they both know#and you COULD (and i do) see that as her trying (maybe unconsciously) to temper him; to pull him back from going TOO far#whatever you're doing you're not doing alone; remember this is on me now too don't go too far#CAN'T YOU SEE THERE'S PEOPLE WHO CARE ABOUT YOU; WHO NEED YOU#and like does the tempering always work? no; obviously; for multiple reasons#but for her to - on whatever level - think that she would be enough FOR it to work? much to think about#(it's crazy how it's so clear that on some level they both know she's the most important person to him#but they're also just....tucking that fact away until a moment comes when they can actually think fully about what it means#(which would have to be post red john but also they're just avoidant bitches too afraid to look too close i love it)#anyway i'm back at work so i'm back to thinking too much about tv shows that ended 8 years ago it's so cool and stable#(also rigsby just going along with it too lkfasdj i just adore them)#FUCK THE END OF THE EPISODE BARK BARK I FEEL CRAZY#TERESA LISBON YOU'RE SO IMPORTANT TO ME LIKE SHIT
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raccoon-queer · 2 years ago
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I think it's funny when I tell people I have a king sized bed and they immediately buffer and try to process how much money they think I have
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months ago
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normal procedure
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words: 2.1k
warnings: 18+ only!!, dubcon, gynecologist!rafe, patient!reader, virgin!reader, gyno exam, fingering, p in v sex, protected sex
a/n: we can pretend that this is a roleplay scenario because obviously no real doctor would do this, lets all take a breath and remember this is fanFICTION aka not real or an endorsement by me (or my readers) of anything in this story
“oh, um-” you gulp, blinking as the fluorescent lights shine down on you.
“your feet ma’am.” he repeats, tapping the stirrups. you lift your legs, well aware that you're lacking any sort of underwear underneath your hospital gown.
your doctor secures your legs in the straps before his eyes drift to your center, now on display with your parted thighs.
you gasp and pull your gown down to somewhat cover yourself.
“ma’am, i assure you this is all part of the normal exam.”
“i-i-” you swallow thickly, blinking again, swearing the lights are only getting brighter, hotter, as a bead of sweat forms and falls on your forehead. “what's your name?”
“im doctor rafe cameron. certified gynecologist. you can just call me rafe though.” he explains softly. “and there is no need to be nervous.”
“okay… how long have you been a gynecologist?”
“asking all these questions is just going to delay what we need to get done.” rafe says. “shall we begin?”
“i suppose.” you nod. you know usually girls wait until after they have sex for the first time to visit, but with your twenty first birthday coming up as still a virgin, you decided you might as well stop delaying the inevitable.
“im just going to lift your gown.” rafes hands are slow and gentle as he brings the hem up, revealing your bare cunt to him.
“does it all… look okay?” you question. 
“you look perfect.” rafe says, his voice lowering in tone as he reaches for his gloves, pulling the latex over his long, slender fingers.
“okay.” you nod. surely a doctor would know. it lessens your anxiety the tiniest bit.
“im going to touch you now, okay?” rafe looks up at you, and his eye contact holds you still, blue eyes gleaming with intensity as they look into your brown ones.
“y/f/n?” 
“oh, yes.” you nod quickly. “yes, that's fine.”
rafe hums, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. “so if i read your chart correctly, you haven't had sex yet?”
“no, s-sir.” you shake your head, eyes moving to the ceiling to avoid that captivating gaze, even if the fluorescents make your eyes hurt.
rafe mutters something under his breath, but you're sure your ears are just playing tricks on you. no way he would whisper “perfect” to himself. surely he's a professional.
rafe lays two fingers on your inner thigh and your entire body jolts, the gloves cold against your bare skin.
“it's okay.” rafes other hand rests on your thigh, rubbing gently with his thumb. “im going to begin the exam, if you feel any discomfort at any point just tell me.”
“okay.” you nod, and you swear despite the chilly gloves, his touch leaves a trail of fire as he brings his two fingers closer to your pussy, before suddenly swiping through your folds.
“oh!” you squeal out, hips lifting slightly before pushing back down.
“it's a normal bodily reaction.” rafe assures you before you can even feel embarrassment.
rafes fingers swipe through again, but at least you're expecting it this time. you blink quickly, trying to keep yourself calm as his other hand moves to join in examining your cunt.
“just going to use my thumbs to look around. let me know if it gets to be too much.”
just as rafe said, his thumbs begin to pull and poke at your skin. you move your gaze from the ceiling back down to rafe, seeing the same intensity in his eyes but now focused on your pussy.
“im going to touch you some place that may make you feel… fervent. please know that any reaction your body may have is normal and all part of the exam.” rafe places his thumb directly over your bud, and your body lights up like a firework.
you don't even realize you're moaning until the side of rafes mouth quirks up again into that signature smirk.
“oh!” you squeal again. “oh my god, im so sorry.”
“it's all normal.” rafe assures you. he gives you a moment to get used to the pressure on your clit, simply touching it with the pad of his thumb before he begins to swipe over it, stimulating your clit while his eyes move back and forth between your pussy and your face contorted in pleasure.
“is this supposed to feel so good?” you question. you didn't do much research on what actually happens when you get in the gynecologists chair, but you swear what you've heard from friends is that the exam isn't comfortable.
“yes.” rafe says simply, and you have no reason to not take his word as truth. “my thumb is going to stay there as i insert a finger.”
you nod, glad to have the distraction of his thumb moving around your clit, even if your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you grow wetter.
“hm, looks like i won't need any external lubricant.” rafe looks up at you. “sometimes i have to with virgins. but your pussy is perfect.”
“thank you?” your thought process is quickly shut off as rafes finger prods at your entrance, getting his gloves significantly wet.
“sorry if this is cold, but i have a feeling you'll warm me up quickly.” rafe pushes his finger inside slowly, and you have to tilt your head back and squeeze your eyes closed to keep more sounds from coming out of your mouth.
“does it all feel normal?” you're well aware at your voice must sound strained as rafes finger rubs against your inner walls.
“yes.” rafe says, this time his voice having an air of shakiness to it. “you're tight, but it's to be expected from a virgin.”
“s-sorry about that.” you can't tell if rafes emphasis on the word is negative or positive. “i didn't see myself losing it anytime soon so i scheduled my appointment.”
“and why is that darling?” rafe questions, his voice a purr as he begins to move his finger in and out in slow strokes.
“why am i a virgin? uhh…” you trail off. “i guess just haven't found the right guy yet.”
in truth, the whole idea of sex gets you nervous. hopefully after getting assurances that everything works okay down there, it'll be one less thing to be anxious about.
“we can take care of that today if you'd like.”
the thumb stroking over your clit flicks upward suddenly, making your hips jump up, legs straining in their spread position.
“what do you mean?” you ask, feeling and hearing rafes finger speed up, your slickness making it easier and easier for him to move.
“i can take your virginity. it's part of my duties as your doctor. only if you'd like, it's an optional part of the exam.”
“you mean like… insert something in me?”
“yes, my cock.” rafe smirks as he pulls his finger out, tapping against your wetness and letting the sound spread through the exam room.
“oh!” you look at rafe to make sure he's serious, but his expression doesn't convey any sort of joking around. “gynecologists do that?”
“for our virgin patients if they'd like. id wear a condom of course and take your virginity so it's less of an ordeal for you. and i can assure everything is working fine.”
“and by everything you mean…”
“making you cum.” rafes thumb applies a bit more pressure to your clit. “although you're already not far off, are you?”
“wouldn't know.” you can feel something growing in the pit of your stomach, an unfamiliar feeling you can't quite place.
“what do you say y/f/n?”
“s-sure.” you nod. “if this is all normal, i guess it's fine.”
“great.” rafe smiles, before looking down at your cunt. “ill have to work two fingers into you before fu- helping you lose your virginity.” he explains.
thankfully, his thumb keeps tapping and pressing down on your sensitive bud as a second finger lathers itself in your wetness, sliding through your folds before dipping into your cunt.
his finger are barely an inch inside before they're back out. “you'll have to excuse me for going one handed for a second.”
rafes thumb moves away from your clit, and you're about to cry out for more, immediately missing the feeling, when rafes mouth drops and his tongue takes its place.
“doctor!” you shout.
“all normal.” rafe assures you, his lips already shining with your juices. “taste is an important part of the exam too. and you're very sweet.”
you watch as rafes head dips again, his mouth working on your cunt as his two fingers that you hadn't even realized have been pushed inside of you begin to move.
rafes free hand reaches for his pants, pushing them down to get his already hard cock out. he begins to stroke as his tongue licks at your clit, fingers opening you up.
you feel another jolt of pressure when his fingers spread to scissor and close, scissor and close, working your gummy walls open for him.
rafe presses a series of wet, sloppy kisses over your cunt before restraining himself and pulling back, licking greedily over his lips to not waste your taste.
“are you ready?” rafe asks, reaching into a drawer to get a condom.
“yes.” you nod quickly. you're more than desperate now for his cock, especially as his fingers slide out and leave you empty to squeeze around nothing.
rafe stands up, bringing his cock up into your sight line. your eyes widen when you see he's much longer and thicker than his two fingers that were already a tight fit inside you.
“don't worry.” rafe says as he tears the foil of the condom before getting the rubber out and rolling it down his length. “im gonna take good care of you.”
your hips already sit at perfect height as rafe steps between your legs. you would close them out of shyness if it was at all possible.
rafe taps his tip over your clit, making you moan out, but you don't bother to hold back, not when rafe lets out a moan as well.
“the room is completely noise proof, and sounds are nothing to be embarrassed by.” rafe assures you as he rubs his cock against your pussy, thoroughly wetting himself before pushing against your entrance.
it's a slow push to break the ring of muscle, and then an easy slide once he's in.
“h-holy shit.” you whine out, hands gripping the side of the bed as rafes hips immediately begin to swing in and out.
“any pain?”
“none.” you answer quickly. there's no hiding the intense pleasure being brought to your body, especially when rafes thumb retakes its place on your clit.
“there ya go.” rafe smiles as he feels your cunt flutter around his cock. “i can tell you're getting close.”
rafe glances at the clock, wishing he could fuck you for longer, but if he extends the time for the exam too long the nurses will surely get suspicious.
“how does it f-ffffffff-” your ability to speak briefly lapses when rafes thrust speed up. “feel for you?” you manage to complete your sentence.
“your pussy feels amazing. you're so tight and warm. any guy would be lucky to be inside of you.” rafe says, his hips moving faster, desperate to cum. “perfect.”
you are practically glowing underneath the praise and impending orgasm, rafes thumb moving faster with real purpose now.
your head tips back and before you know it, a wash of light and pleasure has taken over your body, and you're moaning and twitching as what you're certain is your high breaks.
“that's it.” rafe smiles, feeling your pussy flutter around him, clit pulsing with the strength of your orgasm as he thrusts harder into your pussy, putting all his might into helping you ride out your orgasm and spur on his own.
rafe lodges his cock as deep inside of you as he can as he cums, briefly cursing the barrier of the condom from preventing himself from flooding your womb.
“very- good.” rafe pants, pulling out extra slow despite the clock ticking down, watching as your hole squeezes back tight as he pulls out.
rafe discards the condom and then his soaked gloves, sticky with your wetness before tucking himself back into his pants.
“take all the time you need.” rafe undoes the stirrups and let's your legs flop down. “ill come check on you in five minutes, i need to see if my other patient is here.”
and just as quickly as he entered, rafe leaves the room, leaving you with your pussy a sloppy mess and heart beating fast.
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webbluvrsugar · 6 months ago
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teaching Tom Riddle how to love.
cw: fluff with smut
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He has you pinned on his bedsheets, you’ve sneaked away to his chambers just to do this, it’s not like you’ve been dating, but you’ve been hanging around — and fucking — each other for a while now, and for Tom, that’s a really big deal.
He’s been fucking you the way he wishes the past times, hard, rough, with your head flush against the pillow, ramming into you without any sorts of feelings, without attaching himself, it’s nice, pleasurable, but he’s been doing it for himself.
He’s inside you already, cock stretching you out as he stays still, his head leans down to meet your neck, breathing your scent before he kisses your jaw, his lips moving to your ear.
“Tell me how you like it.” His voice is low and it grumbles in your ear, when you can’t answer right away, he gives you a slight thrust.
Your hands goes to his on your hips, slightly pushing him back before taking his hands and placing them over your breasts, his breath itches, he slightly massages the flesh, toying with your nipples as he lets you guide him.
“Slowly…” you mutter, he carefully starts moving his hips in a pace he hasn’t used before, it all feels foreign, somehow more intimate but it still gets you to mewl so he doesn’t complain. “Like that.”
Tom nods, he keeps rolling his hips into you, slow and soft so you can feel exactly every way his cock stretches you out, letting out slow whimpers as he does it.
“Does it feel good?” He asks, another soft whisper in your ear as he makes his thrusts a little more sharp, taking your air out of your lungs and forcing a moan out of you.
“Yes, just… hold me close.” You ask, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him flush to your body, slightly burying your head on your shoulder.
Tom hasn’t felt like this before, like he’s being needed, he also didn’t think that slow, passionate sex would feel so nice when he obviously prefers to do it the hard way.
But you like it.
So he keeps doing it the way you asked him to, leaning into the pleasure your cunt provides as the time passes, and when you’re done and both lazy and mushy next to each other, your head flush to his chest, he lets himself provide that care to you, hesitantly dragging a hand to your hair and brushing it away to see your face, thumb lightly caressing your exposed cheek.
‘It’s not so unpleasant after all’ he thinks.
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dilf-docs · 3 months ago
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All Roads Lead To Rome
pedro pascal x younger!reader
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summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee
word count: 3,519 words
side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!
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"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"
Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.
"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"
The young man chuckles.
"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"
He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.
"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"
"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"
"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".
"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"
He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.
"Too bad I don't need you to"
Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.
"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"
"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.
"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"
He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.
"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"
"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.
"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.
"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"
"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.
"Stop being misterious and just drop it"
"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"
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When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.
During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.
Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.
You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.
It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.
To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.
Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.
You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.
And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.
"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".
"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".
"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.
So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.
"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"
"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.
"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"
"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"
"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.
"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.
"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".
You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.
"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"
He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.
"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"
"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"
"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.
"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"
Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.
"You must be punished for what you did today"
You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"
"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"
"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"
"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.
Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.
"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"
You swallow, "I am"
He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.
Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"
"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"
"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"
"I'm a naughty girl"
He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"
"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.
"You were a little brat, amor"
You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"
He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.
"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"
You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.
"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"
You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"
He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.
"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"
You whimpered "Badly, papi"
"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"
You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"
"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"
"No one!"
You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.
"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"
You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.
"That's your punishment"
"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"
“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"
You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.
He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:
"You have to take this off, what if we-"
"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"
"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.
As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.
"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"
You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.
Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.
"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"
You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.
"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.
You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.
You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.
"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"
He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.
"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"
When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.
"You gotta reward me" you cough out.
"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.
"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.
"Princess..." he warns.
"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.
"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"
"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.
"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.
"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.
"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.
A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.
His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.
Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.
"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.
You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.
"I missed you so much" you pout.
"Missed how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"
"I missed you too" he whispers out, getting tired.
He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.
He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.
You're real, and his.
As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.
"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,
You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.
"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"
"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"
"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"
When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.
"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".
"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"
"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"
You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"
"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"
"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"
"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"
"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.
"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"
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aperrywilliams · 1 month ago
Text
A Bit Rougher (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: You and Spencer have been in a relationship for a little bit more than four months now, and the team doesn't know. One day, the BAU girls ask you by your mystery partner they know you have - even if they don't know who it is - and bring up a topic you are not so sure to share with Spencer yet: your kinky side in sex. What happens when the same Spencer puts a test on you on that matter?
Word Count: 6.5k (I'm not sorry)
Warnings: SMUT/18+/MDNI. Where do I start? Reader sleeps with Spencer (obviously). Talks about sex life. Mentions of tantric sex and rough sex. Mentions of some kinks like choking, spanking, and dom-sub dynamics. Clothes get ripped, Spencer calling you 'my girl' (oh God), masturbation (f receiving), fingering, kind of choking, dirty talk. Spencer does his best as a dom (soft!dom because it can't be any other way), penetrative sex, spanking, begging, more dirty talk, creampie (it really doesn't exist another word for this?), and aftercare. Spencer is the best boyfriend in the world. If I forgot something, please let me know.
A/N: This one was a request. I can't find the original message, and I don't know if the person who asked wanted their name here (I can quickly add it if they want to).
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The moment rays of sunlight peek through the curtain and hit my face, I turn to my back to avoid them, not ready to fully start the day yet.
Still half awake, half sleepy, I can feel a pair of hazel looking at me. I peek one eye open, and I see Spencer smiling at me.
"Good morning, beautiful," he rasps. And I don't know why such simple words have me blushing like a schoolgirl. Beaming, I return the greeting.
"Morning, handsome."
I get my reply with a lingering kiss on my lips, which I fully savored until a sudden thought came to me.
"What time is it? We need to get up."
Spencer, with his calm voice, shakes his head.
"It's a bit early yet. We have time. Also, you have some clothes here, so you don't need to go to your apartment before driving to work."
Smart me for bringing clothes to his apartment. It's an obvious decision, though, considering I have spent more nights here in the past weeks than in my place.
A devilish smirk makes an appearance on my face.
"So, we do have time, don't we?"
"Yes, sweetheart. We do," Spencer mumbles, scooting closer and peppering kisses on my face and then down to my collarbone.
Oh boy, this is what I call a good way to start the day.
-
How much time can you fool a bunch of the best profilers in the country, hiding your relationship with one of your coworkers? Spencer and I keep the count. The mark is set now in four months and two weeks.
It's not that we are embarrassed by what we have or anything close to that. It's just that things started so casually and naturally, and they're running so smoothly, so we want to keep it to ourselves as long as we can.
And by now? It's working.
We have also been careful about it. On our first nights together, we woke up early and went home for a shower and a change of clothes. After some weeks, we started to pack extra in our go-bag. Now, we have at least a change of clothes in each other's places. The second rule is never to get to work at the same time or on the same transportation. Spencer usually takes the metro even if I can drive and make time in the parking lot. Just one day, we did it, and we were so worked up in our making out session that we almost got caught by Morgan, who parked two cars away from mine.
Naturally, any form of PDA at work is completely off-limits. That's the toughest rule to follow. After all, we spend more time at the office and on the road than we do at home, so avoiding any kind of touch is definitely a challenge.
Despite all that, I can't help but feel happier every day as I fall deeper for Spencer. I often feel like a schoolgirl with a crush, constantly distracted by thoughts of him. Clearly, my behavior hasn't gone unnoticed, at least not by the three girls cornering me right now in the BAU kitchen.
"So, are you going to deny you're having fun these days?" Emily teases me while JJ and Penelope giggle in agreement.
"Where did that come from?" I say, intentionally diverting my gaze to the mug I'm filling with coffee.
"It's just basic observation, my dear," Penelope chimes in.
"Basic observation? I honestly don't follow you guys at all," I reply, feeling a bit overwhelmed by this unexpected Tuesday morning interrogation. This time, JJ steps forward with her evidence laid out right before me.
"We have all noticed the changes in you over the past few months—the giddy smile that lights up your face when you read a text on your phone, the new pep in your step, and how you hurry home every time we finish a case. Do I need to say more?"
"Busted!" Garcia points a mocking finger at me. I roll my eyes in fake annoyance. After all, they are completely right.
"Okay, okay. Yeah. I'm seeing a guy. Happy?" I confess, and Garcia squeals.
"Yay! We need to know everything about him."
Oh. That's dangerous territory.
JJ notices my discomfort and tries to ease it a bit.
"Penelope, I'm sure we'll know more with time. Right?" JJ looks at me, and I nod appreciatively.
"Okay. But the basics. Is the guy good?" Emily asks. A silly smile appears on my face.
"Of course he is. He's caring, fun, always attentive-" I'm about to start a rant about how my mystery man is perfect. But Emily's snort stops me at mid-sentence.
"What?"
"Emily is asking if he is good in bed!" Penelope clarifies, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Oh, Lord. What have I got into?
"Are you really expecting me to tell you about my sex life?"
The three girls nod in unison with no shame. Well, I guess I got my answer.
"Like if you haven't done it before. And for what it is worth, we all have said something about it more than once. That's why we created girls's night in the first place," Emily points eloquently, as always.
Touchè. They are right. I have said more than I would like to admit about my sex life. But now it's not that simple. We are talking about Spencer, even if they don't know it yet.
"Then? Is he good or not?"
I contemplate my answer not because I don't know what to say but not revealing more than necessary.
"I don't think good is enough to describe sex with him. The first time we slept together was amazing. The whole night was if you know what I mean. Since then, we have taken our time, savoring the moment, giving, and receiving a new part of ourselves when we do it. So, yes, sex with him is more than good."
"But it could be better," Garcia interjects, and I look at her baffled.
"How's so? Didn't I just say the sex is great?"
The three women nod in agreement, but I think I'm missing something here.
"Don't take it the wrong way, my lovely. We are really happy you are having fun and enjoying yourself," Garcia says, patting my shoulder. "But it sounds pretty vanilla to me. And it's not bad! Not at all!"
I frown, and Emily rolls her eyes, continuing Garcia's idea.
"What Penelope tries to bring here is what we talked back then about your last partner. Remember? The one who liked tantric sex?"
Oh. Yeah. I remember that one. It's not one of my finest choices, if I have to be honest. But it wasn't the guy's fault.
"Yeah. What about him?"
"You forgot how you complained about him being basically a statue? That you wanted it rough, and the guy never got the memo?" Penelope fills in, arching an eyebrow. My cheeks are flush crimson right now.
"I can't believe we are talking about this in the office kitchen," I mumble, embarrassed. "But that was different."
Emily scoffs. "What? Did you change your kinks now? What happened with the choking, the spanking, the begging, and all those things?"
"Emily Prentiss, can you please shut up? This conversation is too much for a morning in the office," I complain, shaking my head to try to cool my red face.
"Okay, okay. I'll stop. But if you are still into it - and I'm sure you are - maybe it's a good idea to share it with your partner. Healthy sex life and all that, so it doesn't happen what it did with the tantric guy."
"Well, thank you all for your concern. But I think I'm good. Now, can we please drop the subject?"
Luckily for me, the girls listened and changed the topic. By the time we leave the kitchen, I feel less embarrassed and ready to continue my paperwork.
But the conversation kept popping into my head from time to time during the day. My sexual preferences haven't changed 180 degrees, that's true, but with Spencer, it's different. I wouldn't want to bring something like that up if it's going to make him uncomfortable. Our relationship is still fresh, and I'm happy with our current sex life.
And talking about Spencer, I haven't seen him the whole morning. By the time lunchtime arrives, he doesn't come back to his desk, so I go with the girls and Morgan.
When we come back from lunch, I finally see him at his desk, concentrating on a pile of files. A smile creeps in my face. He looks so damn good with the crocked tie, messy hair, and shirt sleeves rolled up his forearms. This man has ruined me just sitting there. I'm doomed.
"Hey," I call his attention, and he turns his head to look up at me.
"Hi," he returns a smile.
"I haven't seen you around in hours. Are you okay?"
A frown appears on his face, but he brushes it off quickly.
"Me? Oh, yeah. Fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. It's just Hotch that had me checking and analyzing a pile of boxes with folders from old cases in the store office. That's all."
It makes sense. Spencer's fast reading is a blessing and a curse, and obviously, people tend to use it often in the office.
"I'm sorry, sure it wasn't a very entertaining task."
A shy smile creeps on his lips, and I have to use all my self-control not to pounce on him right now and pepper his face with kisses.
"It's okay. I'm already done, anyway. How has been your morning?"
"Oh. Mostly paperwork. As everyone. But I think I'll be done soon, too." Before continuing, I check my surroundings to ensure nobody else is listening. "Maybe we can go home early?" I suggest seductively.
The flush in Spencer's cheeks is endearing. It's like the ones I sported this morning when the girls were interrogating me. And they want me to tell this boy about my kinks? No way. I won't do that if it means he won't feel comfortable with me again.
"We could. But I'm afraid plans will have to wait," Spencer says as his gaze shifts from me to Garcia and the quick tip-tap of her heels, heading to the conference room.
Fuck. A new case.
-
Don't get me wrong. I love my job. But being stuck in the middle of the desert, looking for an unsub that seems to be a ghost? And I say 'ghost' literally because we are looking for a guy who is dead for the town records. No, this is not my idea of a 'normal work day.'
It's frustrating, and not only for the lack of progress. The heat here is like hell. The AC barely works, and everyone's mood is bitchy.
We are not making any progress by now, so Hotch sends us to the hotel for the night. Once in my room, I text Spencer, not with an explicit purpose but to talk to him for a while. But he doesn't answer my texts. Is he sleeping by now? Considering he's a night owl, I found it very rare. But maybe he's drained like everyone else, so I let it slide.
In the morning, after my shower, I'm checking my phone, and I don't have any messages. Has Spencer received my texts?
I don't want to sound paranoid, but it's like something is going on. At the precinct, I barely get a hello from Spencer. Okay. Maybe it's the stress. I don't give it too much thought, either. Not when we have work to do.
And boy, we have been working hard on this one. Some clues give us hope, but we're far from catching the unsub.
In the little spare time we have between interrogations and visiting dumping sites, I try to share moments with Spencer, but it definitely seems like he doesn't want to be alone with me in the same room, even if he doesn't say it or shows signs of annoyance or animosity towards me.
I can't tell why he is so distant, but it's starting to worry me. Did I do something? And it's killing me because the more I think about it, the more I miss him. A kiss, a hug, anything from him would ease the ache I'm starting to feel.
It doesn't help that he has been choosing to wear the sexiest clothes he has in his go-bag. Those tight grey pants that accentuate his ass, those button-ups with sleeves rolled up.
We have been here for six days, and I think I'm going crazy. I have been trying to be subtle and professional. But I swear that if one more day goes by without being able to feel Spencer's touch, I don't know what I'll be able to do.
It seems heaven has listened to me because we finally managed to catch the unsub, and we're on the jet on our way home. But I'm nervous. I didn't even want to sit next to Spencer like I usually do. I don't know why. What if he wants to break up with me, and I'm just dragging things out?
What the hell am I talking about? I don't believe I'm thinking clearly here. But this week has been so odd that I don't know what to think.
Maybe when we land, I can finally talk to Spencer and put an end to my overthinking. With that in mind, I doze off for the rest of the trip.
Once the jet is down, I'm starting to gather my things when I hear Spencer rushing out, saying goodbye to everyone.
Disappointed and frustrated, I leave the tarmac.
Maybe a full night of sleep in my bed isn't a bad plan after all.
But be that as it may, fuck you, Spencer Reid.
-
As if all that had happened wasn't enough, when I got to the parking lot, my car fucking didn't start. I knew I had to get it checked before.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
That delayed my arrival home for another 45 minutes.
Now, disappointed, frustrated, and with no car, I slam the door shut. The apartment is pitch black, and I have no energy to flick the lights on, so I drag myself to the bedroom. When I open the door, a yelp escapes my mouth when I see a silhouette of a man sitting in the chair I have in one corner.
I'm about to reach for my gun when the bedside lamp flicks on, and the scare turns to confusion when I see Spencer sitting there.
"What the fuck!"
"Hi," he says as if he hadn't almost scared me to death two seconds ago.
"Spencer! What are you doing here?" My voice sounds harsher than I intended, but Spencer brushes it off quickly.
"Waiting for you," he says matter-of-factly.
I'm officially confused. We were together an hour ago? He left without saying anything.
"I don't understand. The way you left the jet in such a hurry, I thought I was the last person you wanted to be with."
My words come out resentful, but I can't help it. Spencer's eyes soften. I averted his gaze as I dropped my go-bag, unholst my gun to set it on the safe, and sat at the end of the bed to remove my boots.
"Hey, don't say that. Of course, I want to be with you," Spencer says, standing from the seat and kneeling to help me remove my boots.
"I'm sorry, but it didn't show that way. You avoided me all week!"
Great, now I sound like I'm making a tantrum.
From his place where he knelt on the floor, his eyes met mine, and I don't know why suddenly I felt a shudder running down my spine.
"Sweetheart, you know we were working, weren't we?"
That condescending tone escaping Spencer's lips? It is something unexpected. But why does it make me kind of nervous? It's a type of nervousness that gives me butterflies in my stomach.
"I know! But- but then in the jet. And you left."
Why am I babbling? Since when did Spencer have looked at me with those piercing eyes?
He stands and offers me a hand to help me to do the same.
"Is my girl upset?" He asks when we are both upright.
'My girl'? That's new. Spencer always calls me by my name, a short version of it, or beautiful, or sweetheart. But thinking about it, 'my girl' doesn't sound bad at all.
"No! I'm not-"
"Oh yes, you are. Look, I wanted to prepare a surprise for you tonight, so I left in a hurry. I was thinking about a bubble bath, dinner, wine, and a movie. I even had the table done with candles ready to lit," he says nonchalantly, and I feel silly for thinking the worst scenarios all week.
"Oh," is the only thing escaping my lips.
"But now, thinking about it, maybe you don't deserve it. Not if you're questioning me like this," Spencer shakes his head in fake - I hope - disappointment.
Okay. Stop right there. What the hell is going on here? Why is Spencer talking like that? About me as 'not deserving' something? What's next? That I'm a naughty girl? - Uhm, I wonder how it could be hearing those words from his lips.-
"What? Why I-"
"Come here," he requests as now he is the one who sits at the edge of the bed and pats the spot in his lap. It doesn't sound too commanding, but sure as hell, I don't need anything more to comply. I need to know where this is heading.
As I'm at Spencer's reach, he pulls me by my wrist to land on his lap while his other hand cradles my face.
"Tell me, uh? Why are you upset?"
His voice drips like honey, and I start to feel hot here.
"I- I don't know. I just missed you, I guess."
"You guess?" He arches a questioning eyebrow.
"Yes. I mean, I do know. I have missed you," I confess, defeated. Oh yeah, now I'm the needy one.
"It helps if I say I have missed you, too?" he says, caressing my cheek tenderly with his knuckles. "I have seen you tense all week; that's why I thought I could do something special for you tonight."
I close my eyes, and for the first time tonight, I let myself enjoy Spencer's embrace.
I exhale a heavy breath as I get lost in his arms.
When I open my eyes, Spencer's are fixed on mine. But his look is not as sweet or reverent as it usually is when we are like this. No, this one is dark and raw. His pupils are fully dilated, and I feel like the breath leaves my lungs.
"Spencer-" I barely mumble.
"I know," he whispers, moving one hand to cradle my neck and bring my lips to his.
Oh God, what I have been craving for days is finally happening, and I can't stress enough how happy I am.
The kiss starts slow and sensual. But not far from that, it gets needy and messy, charged with all the pent-up emotions from the past days. If I had any doubt about Spencer's distance in the last week, this kiss quickly eased my anxiety.
My fingers go to undo the buttons of his button-up, but Spencer stops me with one of his hands, grabbing both of my wrists.
Why didn't I notice before how big and strong his hands are compared to mine? I mean, I always admired his long and deftly fingers, but this? Wow. It's new territory.
"But I want to touch you," I pout when he keeps hold of my wrists in his hand. The cocky bastard raises an eyebrow, contemplating my request.
"You will have to be patient this time and earn it, darling," he says casually, and as my eyes go wide, my jaw goes slack. These words have never come out of Spencer's mouth before. But why am I suddenly starting to feel hotter and more worked up? I blame it on sex abstinence.
"Please, I have missed you so much," I insist, trying to escape his grip to get what I want: undress him. But he doesn't budge, tsking his tongue.
"I already told you. You need to earn it. To my knowledge, only good girls get what they want, and I don't think I'm wrong, do I?"
Jesus Christ! I had never heard Spencer say 'good girl' before, and I'm sure now I'll be addicted to hearing it every chance I get.
"Spencer, please. I'll do anything. I promise. I want to be a good girl. I want to be your good girl."
Spencer's smirk tells me he likes my response, and I'm not at any ounce ashamed of sounding desperate.
He maneuvers me so that I am now on my back on the mattress. I watch his every move intently, and I get lost in his gaze, which screams lust and desire.
He kneels between my spread legs, staring at me intently as his hands move to the edges of my blouse. Just when I think he's going to work on unbuttoning it, he grabs it and rips it open.
A yelp escapes my lips at the raw sound and the view of buttons flying. Spencer doesn't seem fazed by his display of caveman style. And me? I won't mind if he rips all my clothes right now. His hands go to caress my breasts over the fabric of my bra. And then pull it down to free the skin. The cool air quickly stiffens my nipples.
Spencer leans down to suck one of them, twirling the other one with his fingers. A moan escapes my lips at the pleasure his touch is giving me.
"You like that, uh?" he mumbles, still with his mouth sucking and lapping.
"Yes!" I say, as my hands fly to his hair so I can ground myself in something.
After giving enough attention to both of my nipples, he helps me to get rid of the fabric of the ruined blouse and my bra. Now his mouth is sucking a hickey under my jaw, and I feel like I can faint of how aroused I am. One of his hands goes south and stills at the button of my work pants. His breath is hot in my ear.
"I'm going to take care of you. If I do something you don't like, just say it, okay?"
That's a sliver of the Spencer I know, and I can't even think of something this man can do to me that I wouldn't like.
"Okay," I manage to blurt when his fingers work on my pants, leaving me clad only in my panties in a matter of seconds.
Under his intense gaze, I feel exposed, but I also feel safe. There is no place where I would rather be right now.
"You're gorgeous. You know that?" Spencer says, trailing feather touches on my skin aflame with desire. "You don't know what you do to me, do you? I barely can control myself," he continues his praises, thumbs toying with the waistband of my panties.
I'm about to combust.
"Spencer, please."
"What is it, my girl?" he asks, kissing my neck as his fingers slide down my legs, removing the soaked fabric that used to cover my most intimate part.
"I - I need more."
"Are you already desperate for me?"
I can feel how his fingers trace soft patterns in the skin between my thighs, explicitly avoiding the spot where I need him the most.
"Yes! I am. I - I can't-"
I don't even care if I sound coherent at this point. I'm already so turned on and desperate that I can't be bothered by my lack of speech. Spencer still doesn't budge, though.
"I know you want to beg. And I know you can do better than that."
Oh God. I don't know how Spencer's words manage to make me more aroused, but they do.
"I need you," I croak, eyes pleading him to take me. I can feel his fingers ghosting my throbbing clit.
"I need you, sir. Please. You can use me whatever you want, but please, touch me!"
What the fuck? I just called Spencer' sir' and offered my body explicitly to him to use. And the bastard doesn't even flinch? Who is this guy in full control, and who am I acting like a pathetic submissive?
I don't have the answers, but honestly, I don't care. Did he want me to beg? If this isn't begging, I don't know what it is.
"I know you do, baby. Do you think I didn't notice how needy you have been all week? How have you tried to get my attention all these days?" Spencer's voice drops almost two octaves as his finger finally starts rubbing circles on my clit.
Just feeling his touch makes me whimper pathetically.
His lips ghost in my ear, and I can feel his breath heating the spot before his teeth nibble my earlobe.
A mewl leaves my mouth, and if I wasn't soaked before - which I was - now I'm dripping.
"Tell me, this is what you wanted?" His voice is commanding but feels like honey leaking on my body.
"Yes! Please, don't stop."
His movements are deliberate and precise, and when he buries a finger into my core, I can feel the coil in the pit of my lower belly beginning to form. My moans increase in number and volume.
"So needy, my sweet girl. Like that? That's how you want me to touch you?" Spencer coo as he watches me tremble under his touch, adding a new finger to fuck me.
His ministrations continue, but his free hand moves slowly from my cheek down to my neck, caressing the exposed skin with his thumb.
"Or maybe you want me to touch you like this?"
A mewl escapes my lips when he poses his open palm over my throat, not squeezing but seizing how much of my neck he would be able to cover with his huge hand.
"Yes! Please, do it. Please Spencer," I babble, feeling my orgasm closer and closer. And he complies. Applying the minimal pressure in my throat is enough to highlight all of my senses. That, plus the way his ring and middle finger pound in and out of me and his thumb toy with my clit at the same time, sends me to the edge.
"Spencer!" I scream as my climax washes over me.
I don't remember having an orgasm like this in a long time. My vision blurs and I feel like I'm floating on a cloud of pleasure that I don't want to come down from. I can hear Spencer's encouraging words in the distance as he helps me ride my orgasm.
"That's it, my girl. You did so good for me. See how good I can make you feel?"
With hooded eyes, I see Spencer sucking clean the fingers that were fucking me seconds ago.
"You taste amazing. I'll never get tired of it," Spencer says, with a satisfied grin on his face.
Still dizzy, I gesture for him to come closer. When he does, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for the most passionate kiss my current post-orgasmic state will allow. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it is like my sex drive reminds me I want more. I need more.
"Please, fuck me," I mumble between kisses, and I can feel the smirk forming on his lips.
"I just did that," he states when we part from the kiss. "Are you being ungrateful?" Is he joking? I hope he does, but I won't take the chance of not having his dick in me tonight.
"No, baby. I'm thankful for the way you have touched me tonight, but I want you to feel good, too."
Spencer looks at me with a raised eyebrow.
"Is that so? Are you willing to do what I want to make me feel good? It's not only for your benefict?"
"Yes! Whatever you want. I'm yours. Take me the way you want to do it. Whatever you want to give me."
I don't know at what moment I became this kind of submissive, but if I have to beg again to have Spencer inside me, I will do it without complaining. And considering he's still fully clothed, I don't know what kind of plan he has right now.
"On your elbows and knees."
It's simple, and the moment the words leave his mouth, I move quickly to obey.
Unfortunately, from this position, I can't see Spencer, but I can hear him undressing. When I listen to him undoing his belt buckle, I have to do everything in my power not to rub my thighs together in search of some friction. And Spencer notices.
"I can bet you're dripping again. Don't you?"
The anticipation is killing me. When I feel the mattress dip with Spencer's weight, I can't stop the mewl that leaves my lips. It doesn't help when he presses his body to mine, and I can feel his hard cock pressing my ass.
"Can you feel what you do to me? I want to fuck you so bad. I want to ruin this pussy." Spencer's voice is husky and low, almost predatory, and I can't wait to feel him.
While we've used dirty talk before, I think this is the first time I can feel it coming naturally from Spencer. I'm usually the one with the filthy mouth.
When I feel his tip teasing my entrance, I instinctively push my ass back, gaining a laugh from Spencer.
"Be patient, once inside there is no coming back." Before I can say anything in reply, I feel him push his cock between my folds, and the stretching is painfully delicious.
"Oh, fuck!" I yelp as I hear Spencer hissing when he bottoms it out. He is still there, grabbing my hips to keep me from moving.
"So warm. So tight. Made for me," he mumbles, leaning to kiss my shoulder blades.
"Just for you, it was made for you," I agree, in a new state of pleasure and urging him to move. Spencer pulls back almost completely, only to thrust hard again, setting a slow but deep pace.
"That's my girl, taking everything I give her. You wanted this, didn't you? I know you do. Fuck! So good for me."
Another thing I'm not used to is Spencer being a talker during sex. I mean, yeah, he's very vocal, moaning, whining, cursing, and so am I, but his words are now taking me there faster than I expected.
"Spencer, yes! Don't stop, please!"
"I won't, baby, I won't. Not when this pussy tighen me like this."
His pace quickens, and in the room, you can only hear the sinful sounds of skin hitting skin, our moans, and the dirty words escaping Spencer's mouth.
"Spencer, please, harder," I beg to him. I don't know why, but I want to go to my limit, and I trust Spencer. I need it. He's quick to deliver, and with every thrust, I'm entering into a new space of ecstasy.
He is pounding me harder, and my broken moans are testimony to the brutal pace he leads. I can feel him hitting in all the right places.
"Like that?" He asks, panting in my ear.
"Y-yes."
"I can't hear you, darling," the bastard demands, not faltering his thrusts.
"Yes! Fuck, yes! Like that! Oh, fuck-"
My voice cracks when I feel a sharp smack in my ass.
And I can't stress enough how good it feels and how it helps the ball forming in my lower belly to grow.
"What a sight. You should see how my fingers are red imprinted on your skin," Spencer says, amazed with his doing, not ever slowing his thrusts, and I can feel closer to a new earth-shattering orgasm.
"We need to even the score, right baby?" I can't even catch what he's talking about when I feel a new smack in my other ass-cheek. And then I lose it. I'm teetering to my end, and I need Spencer to fall with me.
"Spencer, I'm so close. Please, I need-"
"Are you going to come? That's what you're trying to tell me?"
"Yes! I need to cum, please-"
"I'm right there with you, my girl. Come on, cum on my cock. Show me how you fall apart because of me."
And I did. My orgasm crashes me like a freight train, screaming Spencer's name once and again until my throat goes dry. He keeps his pace, chasing his own end, and after three deep thrusts, he stills, and I feel him spilling inside of me, grunting as he does so. The feeling almost makes me cum again.
We stay in that position for a few moments, him inside me and trying to catch our breath. I feel like I'm out of this world, savoring the post-orgasmic euphoria of the best sex of my life.
Spencer pulls out, and I hiss at the loss of him. Carefully, he helps me turn over and lie down to rest my back on the mattress. I close my eyes, regulating my breathing, content and completely satisfied.
"Are you okay?" Spencer asks me, but I'm still lost in the haze of pleasure. I can barely acknowledge the moment he goes to the bathroom to bring a warm cloth to clean me up.
"Uh? Yeah. Amazing." My words escape before I can process them, but I'm not lying. And I can feel the tons of endorphins running in my brain right now.
"Are you sure?" Spencer checks again. And because I'm more alert now, I can see his worried eyes.
A tired smile forms on my lips as I turn to the side and bring a hand to his cheek.
This man just has fucked me senseless, and now he sees me with those panicked eyes as if he had broken me. And maybe he did, but in the best way possible.
"I'm fine, Spencer. I'm more than fine, actually. That was something else," I confess, caressing his jaw. He lets out a breath of relief, and his cheeks turn a shade of pink.
"So you liked it?"
"Liked it? Did you just forget how I was screaming your name just minutes ago?" A satisfied chuckle escapes Spencer's lips. "But I need to know something," I prompt, propping myself on one elbow to have a better view of Spencer's face.
"What is it?"
"Where did this idea come from? It's not like you woke up one day and said, 'Next time, I'm going to choke her and spank her,' right?"
"Well, yeah. It wasn't that kind of spontaneous idea, even though I have thought about it before," Spencer looks at me sheepishly.
"Yeah? Well, then?"
"I heard you. Talking with the girls the other day at the BAU's kitchen." I narrow my eyes, trying to pinpoint the exact moment, and when recognition washes over me, my entire face flushes.
"Oh, God."
"I know I did wrong. It wasn't a conversation for me to hear, but you were talking about your mystery man, and I - I don't know, curiosity got the best of me."
Spencer looks apologetic, and I feel kind of embarrassed right now. It's funny for two people that minutes ago were fucking like there is no tomorrow.
"Don't apologize. It's my fault for spilling those kind of things in the office kitchen." Wait a minute. "From what part you heard?" Spencer purses his lips in thought.
"The part when you admitted seeing someone."
"So you heard when I said I was happy with our sex life, right?" He nods. "Why did you feel compelled to try something different, then? I'm not complaining at all, but I don't want you to feel obligated to do something because of me."
Spencer shakes his head. "I don't feel obligated. I wanted to. But can I ask why you didn't tell me what you liked before?"
That's a valid question, and I don't want to make him feel like I don't trust him because it is not like that.
"It's just- I mean, I love what we have. And I'm falling for you even more each day. I don't want to lose that, and I thought maybe I would have made you uncomfortable saying those things. I didn't want that."
Spencer's eyes glisten with warm understanding. How could I have doubted that he would comprehend? One of his hands goes to push back a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
"I love what we have, too. And you won't lose this or me if you share those things with me. I know I'm not the best example of a sharing person, but I'm learning to do that with you. And I want you to be happy and satisfied in this relationship."
"I really am. Seriously!" I quickly reply. God forbid Spencer from thinking I'm not happy and satisfied because it's far from the truth.
"And I'm happy to hear that. But there is no harm in experiencing new things, right?" He says, caressing my cheek.
"You really mean it?" Spencer nods and chuckles.
"It's not an altruistic offer, you know? I pretty much enjoyed what we did tonight." Only remembering what we did minutes ago brings a wide grin to my face.
"Sure you did. Okay. We can keep trying things. One condition, though."
"Name it," Spencer states, opening his arm for me to scoot closer to his side, which I happily do.
"I want you to choose the next kink to explore," I request, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction.
With narrowed eyes, Spencer is contemplating his answer. After a few seconds, his lips turn into a mischievous smirk, and he looks back at me.
"Have you heard about temperature play?" he asks, and I immediately bit my lower lip in excitement.
What can I say? This man is full of surprises, and I'm the lucky one who will experience all of them. I can't wait.
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
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jaylaxies · 8 months ago
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TEASER: ONLY IF YOU SAY YES (please say yes)
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pairing: heeseung x fem!reader
genre: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, angst.
word count: estimated 15k words. (currently 8k)
teaser wc: 748 words!
synopsis: having your enemy in your friend group was tiring enough, but having him shift into your apartment at the same time all your roomie friends had their club’s exchange program? that was your final straw.
warning: the fic will contain 18+ content, minors dni.
a/n: hihi loves <3 sorry for the delay but the fic is getting longer than intended! so i’ll just leave a little teaser as something to compensate while i finish writing. also, the given teaser is unedited, changes might be included in the fic <3
taglist is open! comment/send an ask to be added <3 (make sure to have your age visible on your blog! blank blogs will not be added to the tl)
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With tiredness still evident in your eyes, you worked the stove on, grabbing a pot to heat up water, standing still as you took the support of the marble countertop, your palms lay flat on it as you stared at the packet of mint chocolate that was in the shelf in front of you, something that Sunoo possibly had forgotten to take with him.
“Not sleepy?” A husky voice made you gasp and turn around, caging you right in between the counter and Heeseung.
“Fuck! You scared me,” you gasped at his shirtless figure, “why the fuck are you awake and why are you not clothed?” You asked, distressed.
“I heard noises from the kitchen so I obviously had to come over and check,” he said, tilting his head innocently right after, “I have to make sure the princess is safe, right?”
“I can very well take care of myself, thanks,” you huffed, waiting for him to move, which did not happen.
“Okay, then try pushing me away,” Heeseung said, a slight close-lipped smirk present on his face.
You simply made use of the little space to pour the hot water into the cup noodles, covering it with its lid.
“You love these games too much, don’t you?” You said, finally looking up to see his body right in front of your face.
With thick yet lean muscles, he stood tall, his clavicles visible in an attractive fashion as the dim lights of the room only enhanced the slight traces of his abs, making it evident that Heeseung included working out in his daily routines.
You gulped unknowingly, closing your eyes for a second before meeting him, only for his eyes to fall on your lips for a slight enough, just enough for you to miss it.
“Not gonna push me?” He asked, still playful, but with a gentle rasp in his voice.
“You’re not appropriately clothed for me to touch you, Heeseung,” you said, trying to muster a bored, unimpressed expression, as if your ears weren’t burning warm.
“Why? Does skin to skin contact scare you now?” He challenged, “one touch is all it takes, babe.”
“Oh lord,” you groaned, stretching your neck back, only to find Heeseung’s gaze more intense than ever, “fine, move.”
You placed your cold hand on his warm torso, right above his heart, and you could have sworn it was beating a tad bit faster than how a normal heart should be beating.
Pushing him was practically impossible, especially when he bit his lip and chuckled, not moving an inch despite your efforts. The room felt warm as you scoffed and retrieved your hand.
“Can’t move?” He teased.
“I’m just tired, move.”
“Or, you’re just weak.”
“That’s all you can do Heeseung, challenge a tired girl who’s trying to eat.” You pushed him again.
“I’m strong, princess. Don’t you see?” He pointed at his body, and you closed your eyes yet again, trying to convert your feelings into anger.
“Your body might be strong but your fucking ego is weak.” You said finally shoving him enough for you to move.
“Now, now. That’s wrong, princess.” He said, grabbing your cup noodles and testing your patience yet again.
Messing with you was one thing.
Messing with you while you were sleepy was another thing.
But messing with you while you were sleepy and hungry, that was war.
“Give me the noodles back you small dicked asshole!” You chased after him.
He stopped you easily with a hand, twirling you around and pulling you back, his bare chest pressed against your back.
“Small dick, hm?” He mumbled, keeping the noodles on the counter beside you, dragging his warm fingers across your bare tummy, stopping right on your belly button, “it would go up to here, yeah,” he caressed the area before letting go of you.
You stood there, breathing hard as your cheeks burned with the implication of his cock in your cunt.
“How do you even get women, all talk and no action?” You asked, walking back to your room with the noodles in your hands, avoiding the fact that you were completely flustered.
“Oh I’ll show you all the action you need to see, princess,” he winked as you turned to look at him, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatpants, “g’night, darling,” he smirked, walking away as you spent the night punching your pillow, eating your now soggy noodles.
Lee Heeseung was going to be the end of you.
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sweetpupii · 3 months ago
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Hi! Do you take requests?
If so, I think a fic bases on this excerpt:
"she can't have her parents walking in again. poor cassandra…finding your daughter with her whole face buried in between a girl's thighs is not the most ideal situation"
of your cailtyn story would be phenomenal 🙏
If you don't, feel free to ignore this! :)
 let's start by saying caitlyn knows how to eat pussy and loves doing it :3 babe could have it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and even dessert. she wouldn't call herself an expert per se, but she's quite proud of her talent.
sure, receiving it feels good—but what's better than knowing you're making a girl cum with just your mouth? to cait, absolutely nothing. the moans, the hair-pulling, the thighs clenching against her head ♡ ugh chef's kiss.
( she came untouched a few times from it but you did not hear it from me ok? )
it's usually one the first things she does when you successfully sneak into her room. like a reward for getting through massive place she calls home without anyone noticing.
your back against the bed and legs immediately spread to expose the sight she absolutely adores. god, she could just stare at it forever and it'd still have the same effect in between her own legs. new panties are needed.
she doesn't dive in face-first like an animal the second your clothes are off, even if she does feel like a starved woman. she starts by slowly kissing your thighs and caressing any bit of skin she can, hand sneaking up your abdomen and ribs to massage your breasts a little—don't mind it.
“should I continue?” cocky because she already knows the answer is a breathy ‘yes, please’.
oh and she gets way more cocky once she finally starts working on you, soft and slow stripes and twirls with her tongue. nothing fancy yet; she wants to tease a little more.
the second your hips start bucking into her mouth though? girl, grab onto something because she takes the signs IMMEDIATELY.
legs propped up on her shoulder while her hands hold your hips down to keep control of them. the slurping sounds are almost pornographic with how sloppy she's being. no whine coming from you is gonna make her stop any time soon. she's enjoying it waaaay to much already.
if she's feeling nice she will add a finger or two while sucking ๋࣭⭑ curling them just right inside you, not in-and-out like crazy. her tongue’s already lapping at you pretty fast so no need to overwhelm you…yet.
she wishes you would look down at her for a sec to see that pretty expression better, but she also understands it's her own fault that your head is thrown back against the bed, clenching around her fingers while pulling at her hair. what a curse to be so good at pleasing girls.
she knew speeding up her movements wasn't a smart thing to do so late at night as soon as the loud whine that escaped your lips reached her ears. obviously louder than the previous ones.
the heavy thump on the door when it opened proved her right.
“caitlyn.”
of course it had to be her mother out of all people.
cassandra's eyebrows furrowed as she looked away with a small huff, trying to erase the sight from her mind by blinking and observing every detail on the window. she thought caitlyn was trying to sneak out and get involved with stuff she shouldn't like she had done in the past with serious cases or something, not this!
“It is 3 am; please take your… friend out of here.” a dismissive wave of her hand showed that there wasn't much room for arguing—none really because she's already out the door with a low mumble to herself before her daughter could say anything. tomorrow's talk is gonna be awful, that's for sure.
“just keep quiet some more, then you can go home, alright?” the blue haired girl softly whispered, leaning up and kissing the soft skin on your shoulder to reassure that you're not leaving until you get a few well deserved orgasms, her fingers already going back to rubbing small circles.
she's not gonna let a pretty girl leave her bedroom unsatisfied even if it means getting caught again.
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masterlist
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whokilledsamara · 3 months ago
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May I request a NSFW alphabet for our deranged, red ass, momo-eyed princess Mr Scarletta from Homicipher👉👈˃ᴗ˂
MR. SCARLETELLA NSFW ALPHABET
a Mr. Scarletella nsfw alphabet. {an : omg.. why ofc.. hes sooo hot i love him. also funny words >< we need more porn of this man in general, also im working on a hc fic for him~~~~ if nobody will write for him then i will!!! ^•^}
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warnings! : stalking, non-conish..? more like dub-con, rough sex, cunnilingus, blowjobs, yandere, blood kink, knife play, hes a kinky mf, abuse play, asphyxiation, afab and amab genitalia described, sadism kink, red. everywhere. miss-use of an umbrella.... looks around nervously
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
it really depends on his mood. USUALLY he is somewhat decent at it. he doesnt really understand the human need for aftercare, so most he will do is probably clean you and cuddle you on certain occasions.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
for him, he likes his hands. and his height, but mainly his hands. {plus you complimented them once, so it made him like them more.}
on YOU, other than your face, definitely your waist and neck. he likes how fragile you are. also he likes YOUR height. small.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
due to his sheer size, he cums a lot. not TOO much, and not as much as the others, but enough to fill you to the brim.
he almost always cums inside, unless its a blowjob. if it is, he likes to pull out and cum on your face or chest. make sure to have your tongue out though.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
he really wants to fuck you unconscious. though not really a secret, he makes it obvious.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
you would be his first time, being a ghost and all. but hes a very fast learner so expect him to be a beast in bed {or wherever} once he finds those spots and what turns you on.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
any position that he can choke you in. or shove his fingers in your mouth. he would take another position if you offered though. he just wants you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
even outside of sex, he isn't humorous. hes always serious with that stare that he does {soo sexy.. (´﹃`)}
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
not a lot, but its there. nice red happy trail and hair where it would be normally.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
well he's always romantic. in his own... creepy way. but he does love you. too much. in an obsessive, stalker way. so yes, he is.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
he doesn't, nor does he feel the need to, but if he finds YOU touching yourself.. thats a special occasion, he WILL whip it out and start stroking himself then. and only then.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
oh dear.. blood kink, abuse kink, impact kink, vouyerism, asphyxiation, degradation, cnc, etc
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
either his "space" or somewhere random. {he secretly hopes someone will find you}
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
coprophilia, vomit. thats literally it.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
prefers giving. you are his QUEEN. {king if you prefer.} he is a beast with his mouth. he would do anything you ask, much like Mr. Crawling.
he does enjoy receiving though, loves to see you go down on him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
fast and rough. will only slow down if you BEG him to.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
anything to get you and him off. he does prefer to take his time with you, so usually he will just teleport you somewhere.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
obviously. i mean its Mr. Scarletella that we are talking about. {drools...} he would do anything risky.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
doesnt have stamina, could go for hours honestly. he can cum pretty fast if he wants to, but either way he just wants YOU.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
no he doesnt own any. {unless you count his umbrella... well get to that later..}
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
oh all the time. constantly teasing you and trying to get you horny. if you tease him back then its OVER for you.. good luck walking ><
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
not loud at all, his breath may hitch and he might groan softly every now and then, but he wants to listen to your noises more than anything.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
he will use his umbrella handle as a "dildo" of sorts. wants to watch you attempt to put it in. the end is curved, so its fun to watch you struggle. he will force it if he has to.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
oo,, big boy. hes over 8 feet tall, so its a given. his shaft is around 8-9 inches maybe, a darker tip and maybe 3 inches wide.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
hes only horny if either you are, or if you do something that turns him on.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
doesnt need sleep, he is a ghost. does enjoy watching you sleep. hes weird, per se. will cuddle up to you and get you as close as possible.
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guppybibi · 3 months ago
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Simon is a stealthy man, obviously—it's required for his job. Though the fact isn't quite true when it comes to proposals. You could clearly tell what he had in store for you the moment he coincidentally didn't have any work to do when the weather was just right and when he suggested that it was the perfect time of year to propose relax and go on vacation to anywhere you'd like.
Of course, you play along obliviously and decide to go to a tropical place that you've been eyeing for a while now. Simon wasn't complaining about your choice either, a chance to watch the sunset together and see you in a cute swimsuit? Sign him up!
So he books you two a tropical getaway, and insists that you should use his card to go shopping for a nice little dress, yeah? What's your ring size too, love? For future reference..nothing else.
~
The trip so far has been nothing but perfect, the plane surprisingly had enough leg space so Simon was comfortable the whole time. No turbulence either, it was like God was on Simon's side this time.
When you two arrive at your destination, the fresh breeze gladly greets you and the sun's heat is making beads of sweat form on your forehead already. It seemed like the heat had the same effect on Simon as well, although he was sweating more profusely than you for some reason..He'd never tell but he was insanely nervous right now, it felt like his guts were being turned inside out over and over again.
Everything does go smoothly, you two arrive at the hotel he reserved, quickly changing into your swimsuits since you couldn't wait to go out there and take a stroll around the beach. Maybe collect some seashells as a souvenir, build sandcastles or get a tan, do whatever you want, princess. Simon's going to be right beside you the whole time, glaring sharp daggers at anyone who even dares to look at you in the wrong way. Was it too much and completely unnecessary? Maybe, but you could never be too safe in these times. Creeps were always everywhere, casually walking around in broad daylight, hidden in plain sight.
Every single thing you wanted to do or get, was done and bought. You had to say, you were pretty surprised when Simon wasn't making any sarcastic comments about how he wasn't a money dispenser. Not even batting an eye when you got something from a clear tourist scam, weird. But hey, you're really in no place to complain here. Plus, money comes back, but the memories you and Simon will make here won't.
~
Hand in hand, step by step, you and Simon walk by the shore, your eyes full of adoration as you tried tracing the glow of the sun's light on Simon's face. You couldn't tell what was more breathtaking, the landscape or the man in front of you? The sun was bound to set soon, though it never really rests, you couldn't even imagine being the sun, working nonstop with no breaks is a big no no.
Quite ironic since in Simon's eyes, you were technically his sun. You were the center of his world, everything was peaceful when he was around you. Unlike when he's in the military, it always feels like he's out of orbit.
He has to do it, his heart can't contain it anymore. He has to propose, he's going to propose. Right here, right now. It was the perfect moment, the sunset peering, maybe a few folks watching but Simon couldn't give a damn about them. This was about you.
"Love," he calls out, stuffing his hand into his pocket to get the ring box. You snap back to reality, tilting your head in acknowledgement. You were taken aback by the sight of him kneeling on one knee, holding out a box with a shiny ring inside that you were barely able to hear the words, "Will you marry me?".
Without hesitation, you scream out "Yes!" at the top of your lungs, leaving Simon chuckling, still not getting up. "Wait up, luv. I prepared a message for you, mind if I tell you it first?" You were still jumping around the place, looking like you were about to bounce off to outer space. Once you manage to collect your excitement, you nodded, preparing yourself to hear Simon's message to you.
It was all about how you were the light of his life, all of that. It was short and sweet, not unnecessarily long but truly from the heart.
It's safe to say that the both of you went home from that trip with a big grin on your faces.
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corkinavoid · 5 months ago
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I'm pretty sure this has been done before (and several times), but brain going brrr, so
DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids
Bruce doesn't even get to say anything when the door to his study opens with a slam against the wall, and before he knows it, he gets an armful of kids. As in, a bouquet of them.
"I'm so done," John Constantine breathes out, raspy and exhausted, looking like a trainwreck incarnate. Granted, the man always looked like one, but right now, the effect has been greatly worsened. The dark circles under John's eyes are, in fact, black, and it looks like he hasn't shaved in at least a week.
Bruce looks down to the small gaggle of children in his lap that he caught in his hands by sheer reflex.
All three of them look up at him with identical, sky blue eyes. They could be twins if it was not for their obviously different ages - the girl looks no older than three, while the boys are probably around five and six.
The older boy scrunches his nose. The girl pouts, but it looks directed at Constantine rather than at him.
Bruce looks back to John, a silent question in his eyes.
"They are- Well, not mine, for starters," the man begins, placing his hands on the table right over the sheets and documents, and leans on it, hanging his head down. Then, he raises one hand up and waves it in the air, "Not yours either, thank the Gods for that." He takes a deep breath.
Bruce's eyebrows raise all the way up to his hairline. The girl starts trying to wiggle out of his hands, but the middle boy holds her back, keeping her in Bruce's lap. She pouts harder.
"And you've brought them here why?" Bruce breaks the stretched out silence, gently repositioning the kids into a more comfortable hold. John raises his head up at him, and the magician's eyes look straight up pleading.
"You're the only person I know of who is, one, a parent, two, acquainted with supernatural, three, a man of great patience, and four, owes me a favor." Constantine lists off reasons that don't really make sense all together, especially regarding kids. Then he thinks for a moment and adds, "Five, owes a shitton of liquor."
"John, what-"
"Listen, I've been dealing with them for a week, I'm at my limit," Constantine interrupts him, desperate and close to whining, "I haven't slept in more than three consecutive hours for days. I don't remember the last time I ate. Or took a shower."
Yes, Bruce can see that. Or, rather, smell it. But that answers none of his questions as to who, why, and how.
"I would kill for a bath," John admits, like it's some sort of a secret. The middle boy opens his mouth, but Constantine points an accusing finger at him, "No, the puddle of melted ghost ice does not count for a bath. And don't come at me with your death puns."
The child rolls his eyes but closes his mouth back and slumps. Bruce resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, but only because he is holding three kids. His hands are full, quite literally.
"John, I need you to explain," he asks, somewhere between a demand and a careful inquiry. Because, really, the man looks on the brink of losing his sanity, that much is evident. Bruce might not like the man, but he can at least partially sympathize with dealing with kids.
His bare minimum of sympathy - and isn't it a bizarre thought, emotionally sympathizing with John Constantine of all people - does not ease his growing worry and irritation. The girl starts trying to get out of his hold again.
John takes a very deep breath, holds it, and then-
"I stole them," he says, looking Bruce dead in the eye, with a sense of resigned, if a bit unhinged, determination. And, before Bruce is able to ask literally anything else, he keeps going, "Their parents are shit, a branch of government is out for their guts - as in, literal guts - there was- there is a backdoor to the afterlife in their basement, and also they are dead and because of some Realms fuckery and their spiritual granddad being a huge pain in the ass, they are all wrong ages."
Bruce blinks. Then blinks again. Processing that sentence turns out to be a lot harder than he estimated.
The oldest kid in his lap gives John a middle finger, nearly sneering. The girl starts snickering, somehow making it soundless.
"Oh, and they are under a silence charm because if I hear one more references to fucking Ghostbusters I will shoot myself," Constantine finishes matter-of-factly.
Distantly, Bruce wonders if John can make that spell into some sort of an amulet. God knows, Dick really needs one sometimes. Steph does, too. And Jason. Actually, all of them need one.
He looks over the kids again. They don't seem scared or unsettled, neither by the fact they are sitting in a lap of a stranger nor by Constantine's bullet point version of a summary to their lives. They mostly just look annoyed and grumpy, and a bit embarrassed in case of the middle boy.
Bruce sighs and decides to start somewhere.
"Do they have names?"
[part 2 ->]
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iwriteyanderes2023 · 9 months ago
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Yandere Socialite (Fem! Yandere x Fem! Reader)
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Divider credits: @/anitalenia
Trigger warning: Violence, drama between friends, profanity usage, yandere themes, name-calling, sexual harassment, power abuse. Choking, pet play, humiliation, drugging, sexual scenes, bondage play, female on female
(8941 words)
You regretted agreeing to this.
Your friends were raving about this massive party, where all the hottest celebrities and the wealthy go to flaunt or make a fool out of themselves. Obviously, it was an exclusive event, no mere commoners could simply walk in. To enter, it's either paying an extravagant fee or be (in)famous enough. Which, you were neither.
They claimed to know how to sneak in, undetected by the burly bouncers that you would rather not be the receiving end of their anger. It made sense to have some tight security, it is taking place in someone's mansion; someone's home, after all.
You, being new in this city and desperate to make connections to you could advance your career, said yes. You stupidly said yes, put on your best clubbing outfit and makeup, and went through with your friend's plan to slip in through one of the back doors while the other distracted whoever was around to hinder the plans.
Which leads you to be lost in a seemingly unending maze of hallways, you don't know where the other girls went and you don't know where you are. There wasn't a single soul wandering around the carpeted floor and chandeliered ceilings. Elegant paintings of men and women in dignified poses seem to peer at you in disgust; a filthy commoner dressed like a tramp. You didn't belong here, and it's only a matter of time before you were thrown into jail thanks to the recorded footage from the surveillance cameras you're sure were pointed at you.
You covered your arms with your hands as you moved onward, cussing under your breath about how silly it was to wear a ridiculously tall heel. It's already giving you blisters, so you decide to take them off and walk barefoot; silently and dryly sobbing about how humiliating this feels.
You continued trundling on, periodically looking back and trying to see where the life of the party is at so you could at least witness how it's like. Perhaps make a few connections, but you think that's unlikely. Most of them are probably drunk out of their mind or high off coke to care.
Actually, what are you even doing here? You're supposed to be networking at a classy, evening soiree, not a rich boy's messy party!
Before you could sigh again, you were interrupted by the sounds of yelling in a room nearby.
"Get off me, fucker!" You heard an enraged feminine voice shout out before the sounds of crashing reached your ears. Groaning could be heard as you assume the other party was shuffling to get up.
"You fucking bitch!" Retorted a masculine voice, followed by more stumbling. "What the hell is wrong with you!?"
"We're over. Get the fuck out of my sight!" She yelled, but it doesn't sound like she was too hurt over it. It's more anger if anything.
"What...? Just like that?! After everything that I've done-"
"All you did was embarrass me over and over again! Like, does it kill you to take a shower? Does it kill you not to be an entitled, gross loser all the time?"
You inched closer to the door and discreetly poked your head in. You saw the back of a woman with the most gorgeous blond hair draping down to her tailbone. She's wearing a silver sequin dress that barely covers the fold of her bum.
The male, slightly drunk and injured from the shove with debris around him, was glaring at the blonde.
"Shut up, slut! If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't get to live like this!" He threateningly pointed at her, but she didn't budge.
"Oh? You mean that monthly allowance of fifty bucks from you? Please, I pick up my dogs' crap with it. That's how worthless you are to me, I'm only tolerating you because I'm doing your mommy a favour." She fought back, her words enraged the man even further.
"You can forget the deal our families had! I'll make sure the Maciovelli name goes to shit, you will be living on the streets before you know it!" He yelled right in front of her face, getting up close and personal; and having his stray spit hit her. She merely wiped them away.
"Ugh, you're insufferable. Whatever, I'd like to see you try, bitch." She hissed before shoving him away again.
But this proved to be a dangerous move, as it provoked the man to lunge and swing his arm at her. Luckily though, it seems she has predicted it and dodged his attack on time.
You had to do something! And so, you looked around as the pair went on to physically fight. Though, it's more like she's doing all the defense while he does the offense. Sometimes blocking his hits with her red handbag.
There is a vase nearby, decorated with intricate, hand-painted flowers. Without thinking, you picked it up and chucked it at the man. The antiquity of that piece of art be damned, that woman is in danger and you have to do something to help her!
She visibly jolted when it flew past some strands of gold and crashed onto her assailant's head, spraying shards everywhere and making small cuts on her legs. He was thrown backward and rendered unconscious almost immediately.
The woman whipped her head back to see the source of it, staring at you with wide, baby-blue eyes. You stared back at her breathtakingly stunning face; she had thin, sharp brown eyebrows that accentuated her fox-like eyes. Long, black eyelashes framed her iris as smokey makeup made her eyes look much bigger and lively. Her lips were glossy and in a shade of pastel pink, with a dusting of sparkly glitter.
You stammered, not knowing what to do or say. You're not even supposed to be here. So you remained silent as you and her continued this staring contest, the woman's eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe.
She began walking towards you, her heels menacingly clicking against the marbled floor of that room. You felt a surge of panic course through you, so you took a few steps back.
Only to be grabbed by the shoulder by someone else behind you. Chills ran down your spine when you heard the familiar sound of a walkie-talkie beeping. "I found one of the trespassers."
You started panicking even more, speaking erratically to try and defend your case. But the security officer wouldn't hear it, instead restraining you and pulling you away from the scene. You thrashed and screamed, not wanting to get caught and end your life as soon as it started. "I need backup!" Shouted the guard into his device as he tried to wrangle you into his grip.
You shouldn't have agreed to them, look what it has gotten you into. Your life is so over, you're going to be shoved into a jail cell and forced to move back to where you came from. If only you could-
"Hey, you fatass!" You saw her red, crescent handbag whack the officer in the arm, he flinched in surprise. "Hands off my best friend! And who the fuck do you think you are, calling her a trespasser!?"
A look of surprise crosses his face. "Miss Maciovelli? She's with you?" The officer took a look at you, there wasn't an aura of money emanating from you, not like how the woman was.
You looked back at the woman, now putting her hands on her hips. An irate expression adorns her face, "Um, yeah? I just said it, are you fucking slow? Let her go right now!" She demanded, raising the volume of her voice as her patience was running thin.
He sighed and released his hold on you. The man brought his walkie-talkie up to his mouth and said that it was a false alarm and that there wasn't a need for more of them to come over. They should focus on finding the rest of the intruders, which you can guess that they were referring to your friends.
"I'm sorry, Miss Maciovelli-"
"Yeah, you better be." She spat as she hooked her arm around yours. "Insulting my girl like that- why don't you all actually do your jobs and kick the real troublemakers out? Like that pig there, taking a nap on the floor. He tried to hit me and my best friend!" The blonde pointed her ivory-white acrylic nail to her bleeding ex, who seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness.
His eyes widened as he seemed to recognize the waking man. "O-oh! That's-!"
Before he could finish his sentence, the woman dragged you away from the scene. Pushing you by the shoulders and pulling you by the hand. You looked behind you to see the security guard entering the room while frantically speaking into his walkie-talkie.
"You're new. What's your name?" You were snapped out of your frazzled trance when she spoke. Her pace was slowing into a leisurely walk when she deemed it safe enough. The blonde's arm was still linked around yours, though.
Her baby blues curiously stared at you, all that malice and rage she held earlier was gone. Replaced with friendliness with a bit of wariness.
You told her your name and stumbled over your words trying to explain your situation as fast as possible. You made sure to thank her for saving you.
"Your friends are gross for abandoning you like that." She scowled. "I hate fake bitches like them, they should like, get shot in the head or something."
Your mouth gape open at her extreme remarks. Is this how socialites usually talk?
You defended your friends, telling her that they didn't abandon you. They probably just lost you as everyone scrambled to hide from security.
"Yeah, you're definitely new here. They knew what they were doing. You came with five others, at least one should be hiding from security with you." She brought you into a grandiose bathroom. The blonde finally lets you go and approaches the vanity. "Those sluts used you."
Miss Maciovelli pulled a tube of lip gloss from her mini handbag and began doing touchups. You simply watched her, not knowing what to say. Well, you should have seen it coming. Big city dwellers are known to be cutthroat, and you just met them.
"Sorry babe, but that's the reality here." She smacked her lip and wiped away any imperfections with her thumb.
You scratched the back of your head. You asked her if she could show you the exit, it's been a long night and you want to go home.
"You don't wanna stay for a little?" She asked, turning to you. "You're hot, I'm sure you'll have fun. I'll get rid of those snakes for you, if that's what's holding you back."
You shook your head, feeling exhausted after everything you went through today. You asked her if she's going back to the party, wherever that may be in this mansion.
"Duh." She bobbed her head.
There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. Until she decided to fish her phone out.
"Number." She extended her hand and brought her phone, numpad side to you.
You picked it up and entered your phone number. It's saved under your name, but you doubt that she will remember you after today.
"Oh, so that's how you spell it." She mumbled, looking at the contact name.
You watch her keep her device away before fixing her hair in the mirror again. She used a nail to adjust her eyelashes.
"Okay, let's go." She linked her arm around yours again, escorting you out of the bathroom.
You and she walked past numerous rooms and halls, some had excited shouts coming from them, some had salacious moaning and some had loud booming music. When you were nearing the core of the alcohol-fueled rave, the noise from massive speakers was nearly unbearable. You even had to cover your ears in order not to blow your drums out. But the woman didn't even flinch, she continued strutting along with you in tow.
You saw men and women feverishly dancing along to the beat, the surroundings were dark and illuminated by colorful strobe lights. Good thing you weren't epileptic.
"Heyy..."
You turned your head to see one of your friends. She's wasted beyond belief. "You... you made it! C'mere, I want you to meet-"
"Fuck off, whore!" Barked Miss Maciovelli, she yanked you along with her. Ignoring the expletives coming out from your friend's slurring mouth.
You asked if that was really necessary.
"Yep. They won't get the hint if you're this nice." She answered. "They'll keep trying until you're dragged down to their level. Don't ever disrespect yourself like that." She sternly warned you.
All you could do was nod meekly.
Eventually, you reached the exit. It's as grand and fancy as it was on the inside. You see a massive water fountain in the middle of a looped road. Yet, no cars could be seen but there were hoards of security milling around.
"Wait here." She left you on the marble steps as she approached a uniformed staff member. You watched them exchange some words before she marched back to you.
You thought that this was the end of your meeting with her. So you told her thanks and bid her goodbye while referring to her as Miss Maciovelli. She scrunched her nose up in disgust.
"Ew. That's so fake. Don't call me that." She crosses her arms over her chest, and you can see pale tan lines on her skin.
You asked what you should call her instead.
"Mercedes." She replied immediately. "You know, the car."
You told her that it's a beautiful name. She smiled and flipped her hair.
You told her that you better get going, it's late. Mercedes narrowed her eyes at you and grabbed your wrist.
"And how are you going to do that? It's an hour's drive from here to the city."
You said you were going to take the bus, that's how you got here in the first place. Worst come to worst, you would call a cab.
She shook her head defiantly.
"I'm driving you home, no way am I trusting those weirdos to bring you anywhere."
You told her that you would be fine and that you didn't want to be a hassle. To that, she rolled her eyes.
"Ugh, shut up." Mercedes punched your arm playfully.
A hot pink convertible then rolled up in front of the two of you. Its headlights are heart-shaped, you thought it was cute. "Miss Maciovelli?" Said the parking Valet.
"C'mon, don't be difficult." She urged you to get in through the passenger's side.
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"This is your place?" She asked with a tone of incredulity. "Looks... plain."
You wouldn't call it plain. It's small but cozy. It's also all you can afford at the moment with your job, that's why you were planning to network around to get better opportunities.
"Hm." She hummed, releasing her grip on her pink, fluffy steering wheel to fix her hair.
You got out of her car and said goodbye. She didn't say a word but watched you get to the front door.
You look behind you to see her staring, so you wave bye. But she neither budged nor returned the gesture. Simply staring at you like a hawk. Feeling a bit creeped out, you went into the lobby.
Only then did she drive away. What a strange woman.
You sighed and trudged to the lift, pressing the button and resting your forehead on the cold, metallic panel. Well. There goes your only contacts in the city, they're all not good for you.
You didn't even get to know Mercedes's number, so until she texts you first, you're completely alone.
The lift opened to reveal no one. As usual. You don't think you've seen your neighbors yet, thinking they're either avoiding you, extremely busy, or extremely reclusive. Or living in an entirely different timezone.
When you reached your room, you decided to boot up your computer. While waiting for it to be functional, you did something else; preparing the things you need for a relaxing bath and boiling some water for tonight's five-star dinner: instant noodles.
You spent the night researching Mercedes, only searching her first name predictably bringing up results of the luxury car brand with the same name. But as soon as you searched for Mercedes Maciovelli, you began learning a lot about her.
She is the heiress of a very successful, multi-billion conglomerate company. Her family owns more businesses than you can count in two hands, they're also huge and famous companies. Banks, grocery stores, and even planes. It's scary how her family possesses this much power. That was such a silly thing for her ex to say, that if it wasn't for him, she would have been in poverty. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment.
However, she is no stranger to paparazzi as she frequently mingles with high-profile celebrities, gets into physical altercations, and goes wild in nightclubs. She is nothing like what was expected of her as someone who grew up in "old money". She's associated with words like "bitchy", "fiesty", "trashy" and "Messy". Whereas her peers barely have any information available about them online, they stay out of trouble and act too elegant for the paparazzi and tabloids to take any interest.
The most interesting bit about Mercedes was her dating life. Your eyes bulged out of your skull, seeing the seemingly unending list of boyfriends she had over the years. It's almost like she has a new one every month, but there are never repeats. Articles, gossip pieces, and smear forums about Mercedes are just so prevalent, that you think you're getting a cramp on your finger by just scrolling your mouse.
In the end, you're sick of seeing the public bash the blonde. It gets old and you're becoming tired. Perhaps aging has already caught up to you, but you cannot stay up past 12.
You decided to shut your computer off and head to bed.
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It's been a few days since that party. Your "friends" kept texting you, trying to get you to join one more of their trespassing escapades. You gave them excuses upon excuses because you're not interested in such a lifestyle.
"Aw, don't be such a lame-o," Drawled one of the girls as she shook your shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun! You had fun!"
The other girls continued egging you on in this expensive cafe. You were already uncomfortable meeting them here, as you can barely afford the cheapest of their pastries. At least the ambiance looks amazing in photos. If only you owned a digital camera...
You let out a nervous chuckle as you tried to decline as much as you could without offending them.
"There's another one tonight! You should totally come with us, I got like, the routes and everything already!"
"Yeah, think of the cute guys that's going to be there!"
"OMG, I heard Retro Rhymes are going to be there!"
"Really!? The rapper!?"
You sighed as they chatted amongst themselves. You silently picked at your muffin with your fork, that was the cheapest thing on the menu and the price was enough to give you eight of these back home.
Eventually, they must have forgotten your existence. Because they continued talking until they left the building. Not saying a bye or sparing a glance in your direction. Leaving you to sit at your table alone and brooding.
Well. You shouldn't expect much when it comes to friendships here. Many people come to the city solely to make money and have fun, after all. Not so much finding true, lifelong connections.
You took a sip of your black coffee. Again, the cheapest thing you could get from there. You couldn't even afford sugar or milk with it.
Suddenly, a manicured hand slammed a cup onto your table, shocking you and making you accidentally spill some of your drink onto your blouse.
"You should try this, it's so good. Way better than your boring-ass black coffee, I bet." You recovered from your initial shock to crane your head up to see Mercedes staring down at you from above, her soft, golden hair falling to your face.
You greeted her, asking what she was doing here.
"I could ask the same of you, seeing that you're pretty broke. But I saw how you still hung out with those sluts even after I told you not to." She cocked an eyebrow as an unimpressed look crossed her face.
Today, she wears a simple, lacey crop top and a pair of low waisted jeans. You got to know that she had her belly button pierced.
You sighed once more, burying your face in your hands. You told her you don't have a choice, it's a cold world out here and you need someone to fulfill that human need for socialization. Now that you have calmed down, you decided to take a better look at the drink she gave you.
It's a tall, plastic cup with a dome cover. It's an ice-blended, creamy mocha with chocolate syrup drizzled on the sides of the cup. It has a healthy dollop of whipped cream on top and a thick straw is sticking out of its opening.
"Um, hello? You have me." She moved away from you and took a seat next to you, she ordered the same thing. Mercedes shook it around before taking a sip. "You don't need them anymore, I'll be showing you the ropes."
You thought about it for a while. There is definitely a non zero chance that she will play you like a fiddle, but it's much better to have someone high up there in the hierarchy. Even though she isn't necessarily a mature businesswoman yet, you would still have a better chance to brush shoulders with relevant people. Not... Partygoers.
So then, you agreed. Picking up your cup and taking your first sip.
It was tooth-rotting. It was good, but you knew if it wasn't for sugar, this cup would not even be filled to half. The sheer sweetness of the treat made you grimace and pucker.
"What? Don't like it?" She asked, looking bored.
You said it was nice, but a bit too sweet.
"That's the point. I like it sweet." She took another sip from her drink. "Keeps me full for hours."
You... Don't think that's how it works. Isn't it usually the opposite effect? Whatever.
For the next few hours, you and her chat about almost everything and anything. Ranging from each other's histories, to each other's interests, to oddly philosophical questions and personal views on things. There were quite a few differences between you and Mercedes- obviously so, as she was raised by the uber rich and you were raised by... Your guardians, but you liked how she kept her mind open and was non-judgemental about you.
It was refreshing, really. Someone you could somewhat be real with, unlike your previous set of friends where you had to put on the most guarded mask in order not to feel like a pathetic lowlife around them.
You were curious about her dating habits, but you think it's rude to ask about it this early on in the friendship. Plus, it never came up, so you decided to save that question for another day. You bet if she's willing to open up, it will take more than just a few hours.
It's getting late, you should leave.
So you stood up, secretly in disbelief at how you finished the entire thing of diabetes. You told Mercedes that you have work tomorrow and you're going to need to leave soon.
She frowned. "Boo. Boring."
You said that you have to be "boring", you don't have her type of money.
"And it's literally just six in the evening. It's not like it's six in the morning or something." She huffed.
You said you have been in this cafe for seven hours.
"They don't close til 10."
Still, you have to get back home. You're tired.
She stuck her tongue out at you.
"Fine. But I'm driving you home."
You said there isn't a need for her to do that, you could take the bus.
"Let's go, you need your beauty sleep." She ignored you and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you along with her so quickly that you struggled to keep up.
Weeks would go by and you would meet Mercedes every Sunday in a different cafe of her choosing. And these meetings would increase in frequency each week, to a point where you were eating all three meals with her daily. She would always foot the bill and refused to let you pay for anything, talking about how you're so poor, that you're probably fighting rats for the scraps at the bottom of the dumpster. It's an absolute win for you; no cooking involved and you haven't eaten instant noodles for months now.
The five girls you originally started off with seem to lose interest in you, they never texted or called you again. And when you did bump into any of them, they would pretend not to know you.
It's extremely obvious that they're avoiding you for some reason, maybe it's because they've seen you buddying up with Mercedes: one of their sworn enemies and one of the most feared figures in this city.
It's... Surprisingly sad. Knowing that the friendship was doomed from the beginning didn't change the feeling of isolation and hurt in you. But at least you gained something that resembled a friend.
Mercedes would gradually increase the frequency of her texts and calls, hitting you up whenever she's bored out of her mind.
"Stop working letz go shopping"
"U r SO going blind in ur 30s"
"nerd :-P"
"im boreddddddddddddd"
"go clubbing with moiiii"
"letzzz goooo"
"stop ignoring me :-("
These were just some of the few text messages you would frequently receive, blowing up your phone even when you're in a meeting. You would usually need to turn it off entirely to keep yourself quiet.
But yes, you would go shopping with her. Mercedes seem to have a kick out of spoiling you with clothes, jewelry and other things you can only dream to buy.
You didn't like trying on clothes, because Mercedes would barge into your changing room however and whenever she liked.
"What's the big deal? We're both girls." That was what Mercedes would say when she slips into the cubicle, while you're mid-change without any warning. Of course, you would react negatively to that, especially since you don't know her that well.
In the end, though, you would just give up and let her come in. It's not like you could stop her and she isn't doing anything too weird... Aside from her vaguely longing stares at your partially or completely unclothed body. She would almost be in a trance, staring unblinkingly for long periods of time until you snap your fingers in front of her face. She just claims that you're just too hot for anyone to handle.
Mercedes would contact you via your phone, asking if you would want to go clubbing with her, or if you would want to be her plus one to an event. And each time, you would say no. And each time, she would whine about how lame you are but never pushed too far.
A temporary boyfriend would take your place, only for her to break up with them the next day and appear in another tabloid for some scandalous fighting or dating. When you asked her about it, she would get moody and irritable. She would rant about her feelings and problems with the world at large, finding the dating pool now repulsive and general standards insanely low.
"Ugh! Can you believe that he said that to me?"
You would have to nod, it would end her ranting faster. It's always the same phrase over and over again, with slight variation.
"I wish men were just like you, I would find it so fucking easy to commit to a guy. But they're not, so I rather shit my hands and clap. Oh my god, he was so pathetic and gross."
You could recite her words at this point, you got it the first time that she wishes she could date a male version of you. Mercedes didn't have to repeat that every single time you and her met up.
For her sake and yours, you pray hard that she finds what she's looking for. You don't know how much more of her repetitive complaints you can take.
All your other attempts to network and make connections fail. As soon as any of them knew you were Mercedes's "bestie", they would either run for the hills or become actively hostile toward you. She has made a lot of enemies and you don't think she has any girlfriends... Only orbiters or those who tried to get her approval but secretly hated her guts. Or die-hard fans who don't see her as a human, but as an object, whether for better or for worse.
She kept them around, just because she could benefit from them. Mercedes would bring them along to some of your many shopping sprees with her just so they could carry heaps of heavy bags for the two of you. While you and her get to enjoy the day, completely unburdened.
It unsettled you how she treated them like lowly servants, or even more degradingly so, like dogs. And not like one of her spoiled Pomeranians, but mutts that are bred to work and live off scraps of attention. You could be having a spa day at the city's finest specialist, sipping on complimentary champagne, and having your hair done with products that you cannot even pronounce; Mercedes would make her lackeys wait outside. Yet, they appear happy about this treatment from her. Eagerly following Mercedes and by extension, you, wherever you go.
It didn't matter who you tried to befriend, Mercedes's opinion of them would remain constant: They're all two-faced liars who are out there to kick you when you're down. It never changed despite never even meeting them or you made them up. She's fiercely protective of you, and always assumed the worst of everyone, even her own relatives when they tried being cordial with you.
Of course, the friendship has blossomed to the point where you would have a slumber party at her multi-million mansion every Friday. You wouldn't even need to bring anything, she would have everything ready for you; clothes, toiletries, hairdryers- anything you need to survive from day to day, you would have a more luxurious version of it. She definitely has an affinity for bling, as the tops that Mercedes provides always have rhinestones decorating them.
You were living in opulence, a lifestyle that can only be seen on TV, in magazines, or in history books. It's jarring and almost dreamlike how you got to experience such things just by chance. You didn't have to work hard for it, you just need to endure a spoiled blonde's clinginess to receive all these. What a steal. You had maids and butlers that would await your every order, personal chefs to whip up something delicious in a second, and hunky pool boys to ogle at when you tan with her outside.
You just wished that Mercedes wasn't so touchy, though...
"Like, sunburn isn't cute. C'mon, don't be such a hardass, turnover." You would groan and do as you were told, laying flat on your stomach and adjusting your sunglasses. Mercedes would then squeeze a handful of white sunscreen on her palm, and begin rubbing onto your exposed back and legs.
She would always take her time running her hands over your skin, sensually massaging from the base of your neck and down to your bum. Her flesh would glide against yours, reaching all that she could touch and occasionally squeezing your cheeks down south. Whenever you complained, she would say:
"What? Not my fault you have a bubble butt. No one can resist giving a squeeze." And continues fondling you under the guise of preserving your youthful skin from the harsh sun rays. You would sigh, slumping your head down as Mercedes continued doing whatever she wanted. It's her house, her money, and her influence after all. You're just riding on it for free. And it's not like anything is going to be too weird, you and her are both girls!
"Okay, I'm done. My turn." She would hand you the bottle of sunscreen and flip herself over. It's undeniable that she has a body that even Aphrodite would be envious of, thanks to a combination of genetics, her lifestyle, and other procedures. Mercedes does put in work in her personal gym, toning her body and alluring men everywhere. Her bikini would leave very little to the imagination, but it made sense why she needed much more sunscreen.
"Make sure to get it on here too." She would purr, playfully wiggling her plump rear. This would usually prompt an eye roll from you and a giggle from her.
She's soft to the touch. And you knew that not because you would have to smear sunscreen on her, but because she would often cuddle with you. It didn't matter what you were doing, you could be stretching in her living room, and she would wrap her arms around your waist. You could be curled up on her fluffy sofa, watching a sitcom, and she would crawl up all over your space. You could be sleeping, and you would wake up to her being the big spoon. And she would have the audacity to whine about how you ruined her sleep by moving around.
But you must admit, she is comfortable to cuddle with. Especially when you rest your head on her voluptuous breasts, allowing yourself to sink into them and inhale her sweet, floral perfume. It would be heaven squared when she would rake her long, acrylic nails through your hair. Mercedes would let you twirl with her golden strands, playing with them between your fingers.
You think, maybe it's because she's just lonely and a big fan of physical touch. It must be exhausting to constantly think every single person in the world is out there to get you. But does she have to be so... gross?
"I just want it." Mercedes would whine, demanding that she wants your drink. You would ask her why, you also drank out of this straw anyway.
"I didn't like my order."
You pointed out that you ordered the same exact thing as her.
"They didn't make it right!"
You asked her what made her think they made yours right.
"They just do!"
You said it's just going to be the same thing. Why not throw hers away and order another one, seeing that she has near infinite amount of money?
She would groan in frustration and stomp her heels on the ground. "It tastes better after you drank from it, okay!? I don't know what it is about your... fucking saliva that makes something so mediocre, tastes so good. Now, gimme!" Mercedes would snatch it out of your hands and swapped it with her one.
You drank more than half of yours while Mercedes barely touched her cup. Well, more for you, you guess. At least everyone is happy.
This habit of hers would extend to utensils, you knew she would purposely drop her dessert spoon just to eat from yours. Mercedes would steal your clothes, claiming that your outfits are always cuter than hers, and she's jealous.
But she chose and bought you these clothes...?
You were so used to her antics, that one day, Mercedes gave you a new brand of gum to try. However, when it touches your tongue, you immediately grimaced as it was the most atrocious flavour ever.
"Whaatt? Are you fucking serious? That's like, my favourite flavour!" She would look at you in disbelief. And you would look at her in disbelief, because this was the first time seeing her buying this brand.
You told her that you wanted to spit it out, it's awful.
"Don't waste it!" She hit you on the arm. "Spit it in my mouth." Mercedes would part her lips wide and bring her face close to yours.
Without thinking, you expelled the partially chewed up candy into her orifice... which she gladly accepted and began chewing on it. Sucking whatever flavour that was left on, including your fluids.
"What are you talking about?" You could hear her obnoxious chews between words. "It tastes fine, you're so dramatic."
Upon realizing what you just did, you would shudder in disgust. Quickly walking away as if you're trying to run from the memory.
Soon after, Mercedes would permeate through every aspect of your life. It seems like she had a chat with her parents about offering you a job at one of their firms. A high standing one at that, too.
You obviously accepted it and resigned from your previous post. Now, THIS is what you're talking about. A prestigious job with unbelievable benefits and tasks that doesn't seem too hard for you to do. It's everything you wanted you achieve, ever since you arrived at the city.
Well, minus the fact that your bestie who got you this position would intrude your office every chance she gets and talk your ear off.
"Ughhh... this is so boring... Let's ditch this place and go somewhere fun." She would rest her head on your shoulder while shaking you by the arm.
You said you can't. You have work to do.
"Says who?"
You said your boss.
"Who's your boss?"
For the fifth time, you told her the name of your supervisor. But instead of complaining, she would storm out of your office. At first, you thought she would leave you alone, maybe she's tired of bugging you and got the hint that you're a responsible adult with adult jobs.
But, ten minutes later, she would be barrelling in with your boss in tow. She had him in a very unsavoury grip, her hands tightly clutching his sleeve.
"Tell her!" She demanded.
"Y-you're free to go. Someone else can cover for you."
Your eyes would widen, asking if this will affect your pay.
"Not at all. Don't worry, I will have this... agreement in writing. Please e-enjoy the rest of your day." He would then quickly excuse himself from the room, avoiding Mercedes's fiery glare.
You looked at her. How could she just do that?
"My Dad owns this company, duh. Anyways, less talk, more walk." She hooked her arm around yours and dragged you out of the office.
It's as if her father was paying you just to babysit his bratty, adult daughter. You barely get to do anything for the company! You don't even know what you were hired to do in the first place anymore.
It gets extremely suffocating being her best friend, you don't know anyone around except her. The staff in her mansion is always rotating, so you wouldn't see the same face twice. You barely remembered your supervisor's names, let alone any colleagues'. All your free time is robbed by Mercedes, she saturates every single second of your life. You don't remember not seeing Mercedes's pretty face on the daily, yet it's astonishing how she would get the paparazzi on her for constantly dating a new roster of boys each season and getting into catfights with other women. Where does she find the time to do that?
It's rubbing on you, now you begin to crave a boyfriend. A 'boy toy', as Mercedes would call it.
It shouldn't be too hard, you know that you're good-looking; you have the clothes, the hair, the makeup and you can always steal from your filthy rich best friend. Your bank account is a little chubbier now thanks to Mercedes. If you just put yourself out there, you're sure boys will flock to you.
But you shouldn't tell this to Mercedes, you get the vibe that she would be jealous that you're stealing the spotlight. You aren't trying to do at all, you're just curious to know what it's like to live like Mercedes for once.
So you had to do it secretly. You would always decline her requests to join her clubbing, preferring to favor sleep over drug-fuelled parties. But recently, you would cover up your eyebags with concealer just so you could introduce yourself to the market. It goes without saying, that you're not tagging along with Mercedes, you went on your own and told not a single soul.
And it was a success! You have never received so many free drinks from men before, you even witnessed some of them fighting over you, all physical and mock-macho. It was hilarious and flattering, but the other girls would avoid you like the plague and shoot you nasty looks your way. It's much worse than you expected it to feel, you feel... rejected, alienated, and ugly. Was this how Mercedes felt? Is that why she thinks all other women are out for her blood? Well, you understand it now. And some of the boys would be really creepy towards you, it doesn't feel so good on the soul knowing the people who defended you from those weirdos are also creeps themselves. They just wanted a piece of you as if you were just a slab of meat in a cage of hungry wolves.
Though, it would be a big, fat lie to say you didn't feel free. You felt the freedom that died on the day Mercedes took you under her wing. It tasted so sweet, you wanted more and more. You were so addicted, that you took illicit substances just to keep you awake for longer, to party until the sun rises.
You were leading a double life: As Mercedes's goody-two-shoes bestie in the day, a bad girl gone wild at night. Make out with whoever you want to, drinking as much as you want and shaking yourself to the beat of the music until you drop.
You knew Mercedes was suspecting something was up, but at this point, you give no shits. This is your life, and you get to live it.
It didn't last long, though.
There was one night in particular; you remembered that they had a massive disco ball in the middle of the ceiling, reflecting every ray coming out of the projector. It was deafening, the smell of booze and sweat nauseated you but you didn't notice. The DJ was bopping his head to the rhythm and scratching records using his fingertips. The patrons were doing their own thing, some were dancing like no tomorrow, some were locking lips and some were snorting lines. It was one of those types of parties, the one where you first met Mercedes. Except this time, you successfully snuck in without your ex-friends and finally found the core of the rave.
Your hair was frazzled and you had a few wardrobe malfunctions, but why should you be bothered by that? It's not like everyone around you were dignified at all, you blend in and that's all that matters to you.
The details were fuzzy, but you remembered wondering what it was like to make out with a woman instead. Men had pretty rough lips and they smelled like crap. Why not experiment? You're here anyways, and no one is going to recognize you- whatever happens in this mansion, stays in this mansion. Plus, you already have a willing participant next to you, who has been hitting on you all night.
Later in the dark, you became bold from a mix of alcohol and whatever glowing pill you took from a giddy stranger. You pulled her aside to somewhere secluded, the two of you were clearly hot and bothered, deeply eager to explore each other's bodies. Nothing else matters in this moment, other than to satisfy each other's needs.
She pulled you in by the neck, pressing her full lips against yours. And you were correct, it was soft, fragrant, and delicious. A thousand times better than kissing stinky boys. You closed your eyes and melted into her touch, sinking deeper and deeper into the kiss. She's on top of you, straddling your hips and your hands are rubbing all over her body. The woman, who you didn't even know the name of, trailed kisses from your jaw down to your collarbones. Her slender fingers began to stray from your chin and roam downwards until it was dangerously close to the hem of your panties. You let out a muffled moan as she let her tongue taste every corner of your mouth, neither of you could speak. And neither of you wanted to, words weren't necessary.
However, your ecstasy was cut short when your lover was yanked backward. Confused, your eyes immediately shot open at the first taste of emptiness... only to witness something scaringly horrific.
"Fucking slut! How fucking dare you, how fucking dare you touch my girl!" Shrieked Mercedes as she had an iron grip on your lover's hair with one hand, and another was whaling on her non-stop. She was screaming in terror as your best friend inflicted as much damage as she could on her face. Scratches, punches, cuts, she had done it all. Mercedes pulled clumps of hair out from her victim's scalp and dodged every attempt of her to fight back. She was fast, fueled with the purest distillation of rage you have ever seen, mascara streaked down her face as she shouted until her voice was hoarse. Blood splattered onto her light-hued hair, her outfit was ruined and no doubt, a thousand dollars worth of acrylic nails were ripped from her nailbed as she threw brutal punches.
You panicked, trying to break the fight up but Mercedes was entirely immersed in anger that she didn't care that she lost her natural nails along with her false ones. She's also bleeding, scarlet painted her fingertips, knuckles, and up to her wrist as she went on tormenting your lover with more hits and pummels. At this rate, Mercedes might just kill her!
You attempted to restrain her, but she was too strong, easily overpowering you just so she could beat your lover to death. There was so much hatred simmering in her heart for this one stranger, this one woman you're sure she's never met. Why!? Why her!? Why would Mercedes attack her unprovoked!?
The fight, which was one-sided ended a few minutes later when your lover stopped moving and was covered in gruesome welts. Her eyes were swollen shut and there was blood pooling around her from her nostrils, scalp, and lips.
"You."
Growled Mercedes. She was breathing heavily and all her strands were out of place. Tears were flowing down her bloodshot eyes as she trembled.
You were speechless, you quivered in fear as you looked on. In the end, all you could mewl out was a meek "Why?"
This caused her to wail, scream, and sob. She brought her injured fingers to her head and gripped her hair, letting out all her frustrations and agony before composing herself enough to form a coherent sentence.
"Fuck you, Whore! Fuck you!" She pointed at you, her shrill voice was making your ears hurt, but you're glad she wasn't biting them off instead.
You said you didn't understand what was going on, why was she so upset.
"You were into girls all along! I-I-" She sniffled, ungracefully wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Soiling her face with her own blood.
"I'm... in love with you..." Her voice quietened as it wavers, Mercedes choked on her own tears as she confessed. "Why didn't you tell me...?" She gasped erratically as she cried. Suddenly, there was a spike in her emotions. "Why didn't you fucking tell me?!"
You took a few more steps backward as she lost control over herself again, she had to kick your already unconscious lover with her heels to calm herself down.
"I wanted you! I..." She let out one last bloodcurdling scream before lunging at you.
You tried evading her, but she was just too experienced in this. Within seconds, her hands are tightly wrapped around your neck; Choking them until blood rushes up your head. You clawed and clawed on her hands, but nothing worked. She was determined to kill you.
She gnashed her teeth as she choked the life out of you, her salty tears rolled down her cheeks, taking some concealer along with it showing that she also had severe dark bags under her eyes.
You started seeing spots, and your thinking became redundant as your brain shuts down from the lack of oxygen. Is this it? Your death? Killed by a nepotism baby with her bare hands?
You took one last look at her face, it was filled with pain and anguish.
You regretted agreeing to come to the city.
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She was yearning for you, ever since she bought you that first drink. If you knew the depth of her twisted, obsessive love she harbors for you, running for the hills would have been your immediate reaction.
Mercedes cried herself to sleep almost every night, suffering from a heartache that could never heal itself as long as she knew you were straight. She knew that you would never share her feelings, because she was taught that everyone sees lesbians as freaks of nature.
She tried distracting herself with parties, boys, booze, and coke. But nothing worked, all she ever thought about was you, you, you. She loves you and wanted nothing but to be your lovely wedded wife. Oh, how she longs for a life where it's just you and her. And no one else.
Mercedes couldn't let you go, no way in hell. That's why she would scare off anyone who got too close to you for her liking, that's why she sent out hit after hit to eliminate the competition. Because if she can't have you, no one can.
But now...
"Sit."
You frowned, refusing to budge from your spot.
Mercedes pouted, she cupped your cheeks and stared deep into your eyes.
"Bad puppies don't get treats, you don't want to be a bad puppy, do you, baby?" She cooed in a babyish tone but with heavy condescension.
You couldn't speak, because there was a ballgag between your lips. Yet, you stayed still in defiance.
She narrowed her eyes at your disobedience.
"That's how you're gonna be, huh." Mercedes lets go of your face and sticks her hand into the pocket of her bathrobe. You heard a click, and soon you felt insane vibrations between your legs, it's coming from the vibe taped to your clit!
You let out a muffled yelp as the stimulation made you buckle to your knees, and eventually, you were on the floor, helpless as your hands were tied up behind your back. Juices leaked from your slit and onto the cold, smooth floors.
"Good girl~" She praised in a sing-song voice. Mercedes happily clapped her hands together.
Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you were about to be overcome by pleasure, but... the device suddenly stopped moving. Leaving you incomplete and agitated.
You whined and whimpered, wanting your rightful climax but Mercedes only smiled at your pathetic, squirming state.
"Aww, what's that? Puppy wants to cum?" You feverishly nodded, face burning from the degradation.
"Well, only good puppies get their pussy eaten. Are you a good puppy?" She rested her hands on her knees.
You nodded and let out a muffled yell.
"Roll over."
You tried your best to do that, but the frigid floor is stimulating you further.
"Play dead."
You lay still for a few seconds, your sex is still throbbing in arousal.
"Good girl, good girl!" She praised, giggling at you.
You whimpered, having tears bead from the corners of your eyes. You need that release so badly, it's starting to hurt.
"Mmm... you're so fucking hot..." She whispered as she slowly got down to the floor, slipping her hands between your inner thighs to remove the toy. Her pupils are dilating at the sight of your naked, dripping crotch. "I can't wait to eat you out. You always taste so fucking delicious." Mercedes brushed your puffy lips with her fingers.
"Open your legs."
She didn't have to tell you twice, you granted her full access.
"Good girl..." She purred before dipping her head down to drag her wet, pink muscle over your pussy.
You writhe as she tongue fucks you, lapping up everything and not letting a drop of your sweet, sweet nectar go to waste.
You would spend almost every waking second being 'trained' by Mercedes. Her treats are sex and the overstimulation of your pussy until you faint. You never knew that she was such a nymphomaniac, or maybe she just is that for you. Mercedes just couldn't get enough of your essence, so you're subjected to such treatment.
Well, at least you don't have to work anymore. You get to eat five-star meals and sleep in a mansion, and you get to binge-watch all your favorite shows guilt-free. All you had to be was Mercedes's pet and have her eat you out whenever she wants.
Her beloved Pillow Princess; was embossed in gold, on the hot pink collar around your neck.
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