#one more step closer to being a real blog

[countrymusiclover]

8 - Life Used to be Simple

Part 9

A Wolf Among Dragons

Tag list ( just ask to be added ) @tallrock35 @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea @immyowndefender @iamavailablesstuff @plaguecourier

My boots clicked against the heavy marble stone as I walked alongside the young dragon prince Aemond. Normally I felt some comfort around the young man but now it felt differently. I felt like someone was pushing down on my stomach making it hard to breathe now when I’m around him.

“My lady, we've been strolling for nearly an hour and you’ve not spoken a word. Must I assume you don’t wish to stroll with me.” He broke the uncomfortable silence that could be felt between us.

Tucking some hair behind my ear I kept my gaze trained forward as we kept moving. “I must confess I am rather tired, my prince.”

“We can stop and rest if you wish.” He commented back at me.

Shaking my head I wished he would understand that I wasn’t comfortable around him. Halting in my tracks I huffed, dropping my shoulders heavily. “I wish to retire to my chambers now.” I quickly spun on my heels in a hastened manner to leave yet he managed to snag my wrist in one of his hands keeping me from doing so.

“Lehna, wait.”

I attempt to yank my wrist from his grasp but he holds a slightly tight grip. “Aemond - I. Please let me go please.”

“You’re acting cold to me and I want to know why. Have I done something to offend you?” His voice was filled with care I could tell. I just couldn’t bring myself to be honest with him like I had always been.

No matter how much I despised being in a marriage with Daemon I had no real way out of it. We were wed under the eyes of the Gods and nothing would change that.

Rolling my eyes I tried a second time to break free from the princes hold on me. “You’ve done nothing to upset me, my prince. I am really just needing to retire for the day. Now please let me go - urgh!”

“Stop lying to me, Lehna.” Aemond snapped back at me.

Throwing my freehand up in the air I was surprised he was able to notice. “How do you know I’m lying? You know nothing about me.”

“You’ve never lied to me before so I must assume that you’re lying when your voice gets a higher pitch to it.” He enfired with the slight raise of his eyebrows. He was much more clever at figuring things out then his older brother Aegon, which was very obvious in the short conversations I’d shared with the second born prince.

“You don’t deserve to know anything about me - it’s improper since I have already been wed off.” I sharply growled back with bared teeth.

Aemond gently kept a hold on my wrist speaking quietly with a shrug of his shoulders. “I do know some things. Not enough to build a life together but I suppose I must find a way inside your head if you won’t let me in on your own accord.”

“I’m done having this conversation with you.” I shoved him as much as I could, finally managing to free myself from his grasp. Sadly I only took two short steps forward before I felt arms wrapping around my waist and I was spun around before my nose brushed against his. “Ahh! A - Aemond.”

“Tell me you feel nothing for me and I will walk away.” He takes a step closer, nearly closing the entire gap between our bodies. He tilted my chin up with his freehand making me meet his gaze. He leans forward barely keeping his lips from mine.

“I only have feelings for my lord husband.” I gulped trying to come up with the right words to say to him.

Aemond narrowed his one good eye on me. “You’re lying. I know you don’t care for him.”

“I have no feelings for my husband so I must have feelings for you. Pfft that’s the most ridiculous defense I’ve ever heard.”

The young prince runs his thumb over the side of my face, a gentle manner compared to the rough side he usually showed everyone else around the court. “If you had no feelings for me you would’ve already come out and said it. You’re denying the question so I know you are lying.”

“You can spat off whatever you want, Aemond. It still doesn’t mean shit if it’s not true!”

“So you're saying you feel absolutely nothing when I do this.”

Knitting my brows together I didn’t understand what he meant by that until he pressed his lips passionately down onto mine. “Aemond, what are you meaning by-“

He tugged my flesh against his chest making me yank my wrist from his grasp, leaving my arms to have the ability to move freely. Resting my hands on his chest our eyes met when he rested his forehead against mine before harshly kissing me again. Leaning up on my toes I yanked the collar of his tunic bringing him forward deepening the kiss.

In an instant it was like a million flames were spreading through my entire body. An unknown fire or desire whatever you wish to call it. Certainly it was never something I had felt when I was forced to kiss Daemon.

Experience in the act may impress some ladies. But I’d rather chase this unchecked feeling.

Slowly wrapping my arms around his neck I broke the kiss reconnecting our lips in a fiery kiss. Aemond moaned into the kiss till we finally broke it needing to catch our breath unfortunately. “Lehna-“

“Don’t speak - just.” I leaned back on my toes, raising my hands up to hold his face in my hands. Scanning my eyes over the eye patch and scar on his lost eye. I wished things were easier then this, cause I knew I had to push him away. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I just can’t.”

Aemond called my name yet didn’t try to reach out and physically stop me this time. This time he simply watched me and my gown skirts disappear from his view once I rounded one of the large pillars entering the castle. “Lehna!”

Zooming through the castle hallways of the Red Keep and I didn’t stop till I reached Helaena’s bedchamber. Kicking opened the door with my foot the doors slammed against the wall and I shrieked, covering my eyes at the sight before me. “Laena - seven hells!”

“How dare you come in unannounced before the future king!” Aegon sharply took a step backwards from his position about to kiss his sister Helaena until I walked in and interrupted them.

I gulped nervously remembering this was common for the dragon family even if it wasn’t common for my direwolf family. “I’m sorry, my prince.”

“Tell your friend to knock next time, Helaena.” Aegon stomped past me slamming the door behind him after he had exited.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt - uh whatever that was.” I nervously spoke, finally meeting my friend’s gaze.

Helaena clasped her hands together crossing the room to be nearby. “He came in and told me our mother was planning on making us marry when the time comes after our father has passed. I am actually grateful you interrupted us. I didn’t wish to kiss him.”

“Maybe the Targaryen tradition will get broken for you.” I touched her shoulder gently and she sent me a smile before I told her the reason I had come inside her room so abruptly. “Laena, I have a favor to ask of you as my only friend.”

She takes my hands in her own. “What is it?”

“I need you to take me on your dragon somewhere out of King's Landing. I need to see someone I’ve heard rumors about throughout the castle.”

“Dreamfyre. Who must you need to see so desperately?” She asked me in a softly toned voice.

Blinking through some tears by mentioning his name I did my best to not think about Daemon at that moment. “I need to see the girl that was originally supposed to marry Daemon until my father sent in my name to your father. I need you to take me to see Rhea Royce.”

“I’ve never been out of the keep, Lehna.” Helaena nervously muttered showing me she was slightly worried.

Intertwining my hands with hers I sent her a half smile hoping she believed that I needed her help with this. I needed to talk with someone who got out of marrying the man I was wed to. “Helaena, please help me. I need to go talk with her and you’re the only person I trust to ask this favor of.”

Finally to my relief the princess nodded her head yes in agreement.

Hopefully she had some advice to give me.

I needed advice on whether or not I should ignore my feelings for the young prince or deny what I was feeling for the rest of my life.

[ensnchekov-a]

you didn't reblog it, but you're getting a message from me anyway!!!! thank you for making 2022 such a fun year for me by sharing your wonderful talents, your amazing sense of humor, and the occasional adorable photo (still crying about the doggie in the watermelon shirt dsadjlfjk)!

in my mind, agnes has officially adopted pavel as her younger sibling and there's nothing he can do about it, ha! in 2023, i'm looking forward on expanding on their adventures💜💜💜

HNNNNNNNNNNNNN

I'm so glad that even a little bit I contributed to making 2022 fun for you! I certainly have a grand time between my muses and slotting them in with Agnes, haha! And I'm glad you think I'm funny because oh man

I'm really glad you gave us a chance and I'm so glad we're here now and always looking forward to more! <3 More adventures and shenanigans, always

Also Pavel will be everybody's sibling in some way, shape, or form and there's just no getting around it, oops!

[talaok]

The final jump

Pairing: Step-dad!Joel Miller x Step-daughter!reader

Summary: When your stepdad finds out you and your boyfriend haven't had sex yet, he tells you the reason is that you're a virgin, but thankfully... he can help with that.

Warnings: step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence dub-con, Perv!Joel, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), virginity loss, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, dacryphilia, and daddy-kink. Joel is a full-on perv in this one ok, don't say I didn't warn ya, 

a/n: this is wrong and weird and for the first time since i opened this blog, i actually doubted whether i should post something or not, but at the end of the day this is all fake and i do not condone in any way what's portrayed in this fic. And please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don't like what you see.

Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4

"c'mere" he instructed, pulling you into his lap like he always did when Mom wasn't around.

"there's nothing wrong with this" he had explained the first time it happened "Your mom just doesn't need to know about everything"

You nestled your head into the crook of his neck as you continued watching the movie, while his hands settled around your waist and onto your naked thigh.

He always made you wear skirts when you were alone, he even bought you some, and each time they got shorter. Once, you had asked him why, and as always, he had an explanation

"It's good for your skin, sweetheart, your legs need to breathe"

The one you were wearing right now, for example, a very cute baby pink one, barely covered your butt, which must have meant it was very healthy for your skin.

And then of course for the same exact reason, when Mom wasn't home, bras were banned, and you could only wear small tank tops, preferably very low cut and that let your stomach breathe.

You didn't mind the rules Joel had given you, you trusted him, and he knew what was better for you.

Plus, you would have been lying if you said you didn't like all the attention he gave you, even if it was just when you were alone. You loved how much he obviously cared about you, and you loved even more letting him take care of you.

You had never had a dad, unless you count the first three months of your life before your real dad decided to split, so now that you had such a good step-dad, you felt on top of the world, and even if you were 18, you didn't mind being taken care of like no dad ever had.

If he had offered to read you bedtime stories to get you to sleep, you would have probably accepted just to see what you had missed out on, that's how desperate you were.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, clinging to his warm self, and letting his scent wrap around you in the best way.

"You comfortable?" he asked, as his fingers gently drew patterns on your legs

"yes daddy"

Oh, that's right. Calling him daddy was another rule, if not the most important one.

"good" he said, kissing the crown of your head 

Ghostface appeared behind Tara on the screen, and you tightened your hold on him a little bit.

"You scared, babygirl?"

"'m not scared daddy, I've watched this movie like ten times" you giggled

"What a brave girl" he cooed "You're not scared of anything huh?"

"no 'm scared of lots of things daddy, just not horror movies"

"ah that's right" he murmured "You're still scared of spiders, aren't you pretty girl?"

"Well of course" you nodded "but I have you to get rid of them"

"of course you do" he smiled, pulling your legs closer to him by the back of your knees, and making you beam happily.

Your whole backside was exposed now, making you blush a little bit.

You knew there was nothing wrong with this, but you still felt a little insecure about showing so much of yourself to Joel.

He didn't seem to notice as his hand went right to the newly revealed skin.

His hands always felt good against you, in a way you had never quite experienced, they were so big... and so rough, and oh so warm. If you could, you'd let him touch you all day every day.

Suddenly, a ching ran through the room, startling you.

Joel's soft chuckle vibrated through his chest and into yours.

"Not scared huh?"

"I just wasn't expecting that" you whined, removing your hands from him to reach onto the coffee table.

You had to stretch your whole body to do that, giving Joel a full view of your white cotton panties, and what they were trying to cover.

If Joel's cock was hard before, it was now quickly reaching the painfully hard territory.

"Oh sweetie" he tutted, as you grabbed the phone.

"what?" you asked, a tint of panic in your tone.

"it's just these panties..." he trailed off, as his fingers reached for them "This fabric is not good for you darlin'"

"These too?" you asked, a tad disappointed.

It seemed none of the panties you owned were ever good for your skin.

"Yes babygirl," he shook his head "here, let me help you, I'll take them off for you" he said, starting to gently drag them down your legs.

"but daddy-"

"what?" he stopped "I'm just looking out for you sugar, I just want you to be real healthy"

"A-alright" you nodded "I-if you say so"

"There's no need to be shy, babygirl, I'm your daddy, I only do what's best for you" he promised, tugging your underwear until they pooled at your knees.

Joel had to bite down a groan at the sight of your perfect little pussy.

"I know," you said, swallowing slowly 

"Tell you what," he spoke, "I think it's best from now on if you just don't wear any panties when we're alone alright?"

"Sure daddy" you agreed "Can I sit back down now?"

"Of course" he urged, bringing you back into his lap, and slowly taking off your panties completely.

You checked your phone to see who had texted you, already forgetting about what had just happened, when Joel noticed something as he inspected your pretty little panties.

"These are wet babygirl," he said, holding them up for you to see.

your cheeks flushed a little bit as you looked up from your phone.

"Is-Is that bad?"

What if the fabric of your panties was so bad that it made you sick?

You hated being sick

The expression on his face was unreadable, he was looking at you differently.

"Does this happen to you a lot?" he asked, ignoring your question

"O-only sometimes...when I'm with you" you whispered "A-am I sick daddy?"

And then he did the last thing you were expecting, he smiled "no" he shook his head "You're not sick sweetie"

"oh" you breathed, relieved "then what is it?"

"It jus' means you like spendin' time with me a lot"

"Well of course I do" you giggled, looking back at your phone.

Joel watched you for a moment more, your face so innocent... too pretty for your own good, before pocketing the panties to add to his collection.

He didn't understand how you still hadn't noticed half your underwear had disappeared from its drawer.

"who was it?" he asked, once he had placed his hands on your ass, and on your inner thigh, feeling the warmth of your core closer and closer to his fingers.

"Just Chad" you answered "he's asking if I can hang out with him tomorrow night"

"mh" he considered.

He never liked Chad much

"This Chad" he started "he's good to you right?"

"Yes daddy" you stifled a laugh "You don't have to ask me every time I bring him up"

"Jus' wanna make sure" he shrugged "You're being safe and everything?"

"what do you mean?" you frowned "I don't think there's anything risky about going out to eat once in a while"

"now that's not what I meant babygirl" he smirked 

"oh" you breathed "what did you mean then?"

"I meant to ask if you're usin' protection"

"Protection?" your frown just deepened.

You lived in Austin Texas, not the Wild West, protection from what, mosquitoes?

"Yeah protection, sugar" he nodded

"From what?" you asked, more confused than ever.

"oh baby girl" he laughed softly, leaning back onto the couch "condoms. You use condoms?"

And in an instant, your face had turned red.

"Oh, I- We- I haven't- we didn't-" 

That's all you could muster from your flustered state.

Joel's amusement left his face in a second to make space for something... else.

He had prompted this subject just to see you all embarrassed, and hear you talk about what he dreamed of doing every night with you, but this... this had just gotten interesting.

"you haven't done it?" he asked

It took a moment before you finally managed to shake your head no.

His grip on your thigh got tighter

"why's that?"

Your teeth let go of your bottom lip so you could respond.

"I-I don't know"

All it took was another look at you, at your big blown-out eyes, at your red cheeks, and it all came together.

"sweetheart," he said gently "are you a virgin?"

Your forehead creased again in puzzlement.

"w-what's that?"

His lips pulled into a smirk, and you watched each muscle on his face with curiosity.

"Oh baby" he smiled "I mean have you ever had sex?"

Your chest was rising and falling so quickly that you wondered how long it would take for you to hyperventilate.

The redness of your skin had now spread to your ears and neck too.

"I-I" you mumbled, avoiding his eyes

"Sweetie" he cooed, gently guiding your face to look up at him "You can tell me"

You gulped, looking into his hazel eyes.

Oh, how stupid you were being. Of course you can tell daddy.

"No" you slowly shook your head.

"Ah" he hummed "then that's why"

"That's why what?" you asked

Now, a good man would have stopped there, a good man would have dropped this right there... but good men didn't fantasize about their step-daughters, good men didn't come up with rules to watch them walk around the house half naked, good men didn't pull their panties down just to catch a glimpse of what they'd been dreaming of for months, and Joel, well Joel was already going to hell, so why not make the final jump.

"That's why Chad hasn't had sex with you"

"W-what?"

He wet his lips, not thinking about anything else but how good that pretty cunt of yours must feel around his cock.

"No guy wants to be a girl's first, babygirl" he murmured, stroking your cheek.

"Really?" your eyes widened at the realization "but- why?"

"lots of reasons sweetie" he explained "girls tend to... get attached"

"oh" your perfect mouth created the cutest little o

"yeah baby" he nodded "I'm sorry"

Your eyes were starting to water, and your throat was getting clogged up

"but then... who's ever gonna want to make love to me?"

make love? god you were so innocent

"you want Chad to make love to you, pretty girl?"

You were pouting so cutely Joel's heart was starting to break a little bit.

"I mean- maybe... I don't know" you murmured, tears falling from your eyes now "but he's never gonna want to now!" you sobbed

He wiped away your tears with his thumb before bringing you closer to his chest, giving you a big tight hug.

"It's ok sugar, shh" he calmed you down.

"H-how is he ever gonna want to make love to me?" you asked, raising your doe eyes to him.

And there it was, his free pass to the flames of hell.

"Well, there is a way," he said gently

"W-what?" you stumbled over your words

"I could help you out" he spoke

"H-how?"

His eyes darted from your watery eyes to your pretty pink mouth.

"I could be your first"

Your heart missed a beat.

"Y-you?"

"Yeah sweetheart, that way you can tell Chad you're not a virgin, and he'll for sure want to make love to you "

Your eyes sparked up

"Really?" you beamed "Y-you'd do that for me?"

"Of course" he promised, "What else are daddies for?"

"Oh thank you, daddy!" You threw your arms around him to hug him like your life depended on it "You're the best"

He grinned into your hair, thanking every existing being for having granted him such a gift: you.

"oh sweetheart, trust me it's you who's the best" he murmured.

You leaned away, a smile from ear to ear plastered on your face "So-uhm- How does this work?"

He smiled at your eagerness

"Well, first of all, we gotta get on a bed" he explained "so wrap your arms and legs around me and hold on tight baby girl"

"Like this?" you asked, after obliging

"Perfect" he nodded before standing up from the couch.

A soft whimper fled your mouth as he made you bounce a little bit to set you better on his body.

"Calm down sweetie, I'm here" he cooed, starting to walk up the stairs, and before you realized, you were in your room.

"why didn't we go to your room?" you wondered aloud

"I just like yours better" he dismissed your question as he settled you on the bed.

You looked around the walls and posters and floor you knew so well and then back at him.

You didn't think he'd ever been in here before, and it was such a weird image.

he looked so out of place in such a girly space.

"and now?" you asked, looking up at him expectantly.

He smirked "Now we take off these pretty clothes of yours"

"O-oh, alright" you nodded, watching as he kneeled in front of you.

His hands went to your tank top first, slowly seeping underneath it before taking it off of you.

A small groan left his throat, and you observed how his eyes focused on your breasts.

"I-is there something wrong?" 

"No, sweetie, I'm just real happy to help you, 's all"

You smiled cheerfully at that.

He was always so nice.

"Now we gotta take off this skirt" he explained, gently pulling it down for you until it pooled at your feet.

You didn’t think you'd ever seen Joel smile so wide.

"Good God baby girl" he breathed, taking each and every inch of you in like you were a piece of art in a museum "You're real pretty, you know that?"

Your cheeks reddened as your lips pulled into a shy smile.

"T-thank you" you mumbled

He stroked your thighs a little, but way too soon he was standing up.

He reached into his back pocket for something, and a moment later his phone was in his hand.

You watched as he swiped somewhere on the screen and then took a step back to make sure the camera didn't miss any part of you.

"What are you doing?" you asked, curious more than anything.

"Takin' some pictures"

"Oh," you murmured "W-why?"

"Don't worry baby, 's just me" he reassured you, now stepping closer to you again to caress your cheek softly, making you forget all about your worries.

"Do you think you could pose for me a little?"

"sure" you nodded, wanting to please him however you could.

"Such a good girl" he praised more to himself "Lay down for me mh?"

You immediately did, scooting more onto the bed and resting your back on the mattress.

"Spread your legs now" he instructed, loving the way you so easily obeyed.

You heard a soft click as he took another picture from right between your legs.

"Very good" he said "Now smile a lil', show me how happy you are Daddy's helping you out" 

You did of course, and this time he moved his phone a little upward so your face was more in the frame.

"now c'mere again" he said, urging you with two of his fingers.

You sat at the edge of the bed, right in front of him.

"so obedient..." he smirked, as he stroked your cheek "suck on my fingers sweetie" he ordered, slowly pushing his index and middle finger past your lips.

You were very very confused about this pose, but chose not to question it.

"Look at me" he instructed, and you watched his grin widen as he took the photo.

"You did real good honey" he spoke, placing his phone on your nightstand.

"Thank you daddy" you beamed, as he kneeled before you again.

A question came to you while he did

"Is Chad gonna take pictures too?" 

A tint of jealousy flashed behind his eyes

"No," he said firmly "and if he tries, you take his phone and throw it away, ok?"

"O-ok" you nodded.

"Now" he seemed to get back to himself "How 'bout you lay down and let me take care of you?"

"S-sure" you stuttered, lying down again.

You raised your head to look at him as he slowly spread your legs.

You felt very much on display, but you weren't embarrassed, you knew Joel only had good intentions.

Suddenly, he bent down to kiss you right on your mound.

You let out a gasp

He looked up at you, a devilish smile plaster on his face as his lips traveled lower, now finding your clit.

"Daddy!" you gasped again.

"what is it baby girl, it don't feel good?"

"N-no it just feels..."

You honestly had no idea how to describe how it felt.

"How?" he insisted

"tingly" you murmured

He smirked, kissing your clit again just to taunt you

"That's good baby" he explained "It means you're enjoying this"

"Oh- really?" you asked, wide-eyed 

"Really" he confirmed, before abruptly licking a long stripe of your pussy, and forcing your gasp to soon convert into a moan.

Oh, he definitely liked hearing that.

And the moment he decided on that, he started quite literally devouring your cunt, feeding off of it like it was the source of eternal youth.

"Oh my god" you started chanting in a high pitch, as your legs got a life of their own at the feeling.

You were losing yourself in the feeling when, suddenly, you felt something probing at your... entrance, and you whimpered in surprise.

"Daddy, what are you doing?" you asked, as your hands grabbed the covers for something to hold onto.

He fought the urge to ignore you and do what needed to be done.

"Imma put a finger inside of you now ok?" he explained as sweetly as he could, desperately trying to hide his frustration.

His cock was begging for some sort of relief, and you were only slowing him down.

"a-a finger?" you breathed "W-why?"

"Because I need to make sure this pretty little pussy of yours can take all of daddy"

You scrunched your nose, making a face

"What?" he asked

"I don't like that word"

"What word?" he asked "pussy?"

"mh-mh" you nodded

He couldn't help but laugh a little "What would you rather I call it?" he murmured mockingly,(only of course you didn't realize) "Your tootie?"

"I'm not a kid" you giggled " I haven't called it that since I was-"

Your words died in your throat once his middle finger plunged into your heat.

Your mouth parted in shock, but no sound came out.

"real good sweetie" he praised you, bending down again to suck on your bud, as he started moving his finger in and out of you.

"Daddy!" you cried, at the feeling

"I know, I know" his tone was loaded with false empathy "Now stay still for me alright?"

But before you had time to ask why, another one of his fingers had made its way inside of you.

"Daddy wha-" your own sentence was interrupted by a moan "You said you were gonna put only one finger in!" you protested

"I know baby girl" he whispered against your heat, sending a shiver up your spine "but I know what's best for you, don't I?"

Of course he did

"mh-mh" you nodded

"Good girl" he praised, not missing the way your walls tightened around him at the praise "How does it feel?"

"I-it hurts a little" you winced, 

"mh" he considered "that's because no one had touched you down here before" he spoke in between licks to your clit "Not even yourself right?"

"n-no" you answered in a breathy whisper.

"good," he said mostly to himself "And how does it feel now?" he asked, curling his fingers into your g-spot.

Your back arched from the bed

"b-better" 

He kept doing that, making you gasp and squirm under him until...

"and how 'bout now?"

A third finger intruded your hole, making you cry out so loud the neighbors probably heard.

"daddy!" you whined as your eyes watered "T-that hurt, why would you do that?"

"oh sweetie... I needed to do that" he cooed, watching your pussy struggling to stretch around his fingers "If you wanna take daddy's cock you need to be able to take three of my fingers at least"

"t-that's a lot" you sobbed

"Oh I know" he murmured "but you did it like a good girl" he kissed your clit as a reward, "Now all you gotta do is relax and come around daddy's fingers"

"b-but I've never done that, I-I don't know how to-"

"shh" he shushed you, moving his fingers inside your warm cunt as he leaned down again to put his tongue to use "Just relax for me sweetie"

And so you did, you closed your eyes and fell back onto the bed as you tried adjusting to his fingers and the feeling they were bringing with them.

You had no idea what was happening to you, you'd heard some of your friends talk about sex, and you did a few lessons in sex ed, but you never really got it... and this was very different from what you were expecting.

Joel's hands were gripping your thighs to keep your legs apart, and when he curled his fingers inside of you again, a pang of pure pleasure took over you, and as a deep moan left your mouth, your left hand got a life of its own and found Joel's hair, gripping it tightly.

He groaned into your cunt and a strange feeling started pooling down your belly.

"Oh god" you whimpered "Daddy- I-"

He started going even faster, the squelching of his fingers plunging into your core filling the whole room as you cried out louder and louder.

"I-I think it's h-happening" you breathed "W-what do I do?" you moaned "D-daddy?"

He was lost in the thought of how good your walls were gonna feel as they tightened around his cock instead of his fingers, but as you cried again, he came back to earth.

"Let go sweetheart" he urged, watching your face contort in all sorts of expressions and bashing in the knowledge that it was him who was provoking them "Be a good girl and come for daddy"

And with that, your eyes snapped open to glimpse at him before every cell in your being exploded and rearranged itself inside of you as you came.

"You did good" he spoke as you tried calming your breathing "you did real good baby" he nodded, as he took his fingers out of you and stared at your pussy like it was a piece of art.

"t-thank you" You gave him a shy smile, as your hands dropped to your sides.

"but now you're gonna have to do even better" he started, as he got up "Can you do that for me? Can you be good?" he asked, as he took off his t-shirt and started undoing his pants.

A tint of fear made its way into your excitement, but you didn't let it show.

"Of course Daddy" you eagerly answered "I'll be good"

"you sure?" he arched his brow as his pants fell to his feet and all that remained on his body was a black pair of boxers with a very big tent probing in the front.

"I-I'm sure" you nodded "I'll be good for you"

"good" his lips pulled into a proud line and then finally, he took his boxers off, and an involuntary little gasp came out of your mouth.

"it's nothing to be scared off sweetheart" he chuckled "Here, why don't you touch it"

You gulped as you raised yourself into a seated position, coming eye-to-eye with his scarily big penis.

You looked up at him for approval and he he offered you an encouraging nod, so you slowly raised your index finger, and gently pressed it again his red tip.

You let your finger graze his whole length, feeling every vein and curve of his manhood, and before you could do it again his voice interrupted.

"don't be scared, wrap your hand around it" he urged, watching as you slowly obeyed "Jus' like that" he said, his voice deeper now "go up and down now" 

you did, and you were fascinated by the feeling of his dick twitching in your palm and his skin rubbing against yours.

One of his hands reached the back of your head impatiently as you admired his length, urging you closer.

"use your mouth baby" he breathed heavily.

You slowly leaned closer and met your lips with his tip, leaving a little kiss on it.

He couldn't help but chuckle "Open it, sweetie," he said, looking down at you as you abided "Stick your tongue out for me" 

You did, and before you knew it, his penis was filling your mouth.

"Now suck" 

You hollowed your cheeks as best as you could and suddenly, his hand in your hair started guiding more and more of him into your mouth, until his tip hit the back of your throat and you gagged loudly as a tear ran down your cheek.

"that all you can take?" he watched you "We're gonna have to work on that, 'm not even halfway in baby" he smirked to himself, before retracting his hips and leaving your mouth empty.

Before you had the time to ask what he meant by that, he'd already given you another order.

"lay down"

You found your initial position again, and in a moment, he had grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed.

One of his hands was gripping his dick as he looked right in your eyes 

"Stay still" 

that's all he said, before he started pushing his huge cock into you.

"Ah!" You cried as you felt your hole stretch and burn and hurt all at the same time.

"Shhh" he shushed you, not listening as he continued to push.

"d--daddy it hurts"

"It's supposed to hurt" he lied "Now relax"

And you tried, you really tried, but once another inch of him invaded you, you moved away, or at least, tried to, since his hands started gripping you tighter, giving you no chance to move.

"I told you to stay still" he sounded angry, and you didn't want daddy to be angry, but it hurt so much.

Tears pooled in your eyes and your voice broke as you spoke.

"I-I'm sorry Daddy" a sob climbed up your throat "b-but it's too big"

I don't give a fuck if it hurts, just stay still, he thought, but of course, he couldn't say that.

"Daddy's just tryna help you baby" he cooed "Do you want Chad to make love to you?" he asked, earning a nod from you "Then you have to stop moving and let me put my cock inside of you, ok?"

You sniffled as other tears fell from your eyes "O-ok"

He pushed inside of you again and your cries only got more pathetic.

now if it were up to him he would have already forced his cock inside of you, ignoring your whines and enjoying seeing you cry from how big he was but... if he ever wanted this to happen again, he needed to be gentle with you unfortunately.

"here" he said, pushing his thumb past your lips "suck on it sweetie, that 'll calm you down"

You did as told, and even if it still hurt like hell, it did take your mind off of it a little.

"we're almost there" he promised, watching you take more and more of his cock "Just a little more and-" 

"Good God" he breathed, taking a moment to memorize every inch of your walls and the way they felt around him.

"you feel so fucking good baby" he groaned, his head falling to his chest a moment at the feeling.

You felt better than he could have ever fucking imagined.

"I'm gonna start moving now"

He retracted his hips and noticed with a sick enjoyment the blood covering his dick before thrusting into you so harshly that even if your mouth was busy, the cry you let out could be heard perfectly.

"such a crybaby" he cooed, thrusting into you particularly harshly just to hear you cry again for him.

He watched the tears fall from your eyes as he started finding his pace.

And slowly, oh so slowly, you started adjusting, and from the pain, came the pleasure, pleasure so strong it felt like it could kill you.

"fuck you're tight" he grunted, "look at you" his eyes alternated between your eyes and where your body met his "Taking all of daddy's cock so well" he groaned "Being so good" he hissed, as he fastened his pace "fuck-tell me how it feels baby, tell me how good daddy's making you feel"

His thumb left your mouth and a brutal moan left it with it.

"tell me" he urged you again, gripping your waist.

"'s so good" you whimpered while gripping the sheets "You feel so good, Daddy"  

"yeah?" he smirked, as a drop of sweat trailed his forehead 

"yes Daddy" you promised before one of his hands found your core and started circling your clit.

"Daddy!" you cried

"what is it baby, 's too much?"

"mh-mh" you nodded as your eyes threatened to spill again 

"it's ok, daddy's here" he cooed, "you trust me, don't you?"

"I-I do"

"then relax"

You swallowed thickly and you did as told, trying to calm your racing heart as your breathing got more and more ragged.

"daddy?" you whimpered, looking up at him with doe eyes

"yeah, sweetheart?"

"could you... could you kiss me please?" 

A smug smirk pulled at his lips "You want me to kiss you?"

"Yes please"

"you sure?"

"yes, daddy please!" you begged now, more desperate, and before you knew it, he'd bent down and his lips were on yours while his tongue was in your mouth.

He let out a low groan at how fucking heavenly you felt, while you tasted all of him like you were starving.

He was such a good kisser...

And right as he pulled away and whispered "fuck you're perfect" the same feeling that he'd given you with his fingers erupted all over again.

A low chant of daddy left your mouth and as you squeezed him so fucking good and so fucking tight Joel couldn't do anything but follows suit, emptying his balls inside your tight cunt and ruining you definitively.

Fuck it, he was gonna buy you a plan B tomorrow, and if that didn't work he'd just blame it on Chad.

"Jesus" he muttered, as he pulled out and fell next to you on the bed.

Both your chests were rising and falling way too quickly.

You turned to him, and when he noticed, he did the same.

"thank you so much daddy" you murmured, nestling closer to him and kissing his cheek.

"no worries baby" he smiled, putting an arm around you to keep you closer as he kissed your forehead "You did good"

"thank you" you blushed

"but y'know..." he cocked an eyebrow "guys like girls with a little experience"

"Really?" you asked, wide-eyed

"yes sweetheart" he nodded "So before you make love with Chad, I think it's best if we practice for a bit, what do you say?"

Your eyes found his, and all you could see in them was the perfect stepdad, helping you in any way he could.

"I'd like that, thank you so much, daddy"

Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4

[highvern]

Work Me Out II

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: simp gyu, car sex, protected sex, dom!gyu, brat!reader, spitting, choking, minor cock warming

Length: 2.5k

Note: happy 1k! i almost deleted this bc i hated it so y'all have to be extra nice to me about it (im joking) (not really) everyone say thank u @cheolism for beta-ing!

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part I

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

“Hi!” 

“Hi,” Mingyu grins, dropping a kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “You look…”

He lifts your hand, encouraging a spin so he can fully appreciate the black slip dress gliding over your curves.

“Wow.”

“Wow?” You laugh as he pulls you closer, goosebumps rising under the palm at your bare spine.

“Beautiful,” he sighs into your lips. 

He kisses you deeper; crowing you against his chest with a hand at your back. The lull of Mingyu’s lips and cologne lower your defenses, mouth opening to welcome his tongue. But he pulls away just when things breach on the edge of more.

“We’re gonna miss our reservation.” He coos through a smile, dropping a consolatory peck to your nose.

“So?”

You try to bring him back but he dodges you easily, tipping his chin up until your only option is to leave a trail of kisses along his Adam's apple.

“I’d like to take you on at least one real date.” Mingyu argues.

He’d be more convincing if he wasn’t leaving fingerprints on your hips. But you think it's cute how he wants to wine and dine you. When you step back, you notice how his eyes glow the way they always do when met with approval. It’s cute, toes on the border of innocence; and it makes your knees crave the feeling of the hardwood floors so you can give him all the validation he can handle with his cock in your mouth.

But there will be more than enough time for that later.

“Wow, so eating Captain Crunch in our underwear after you defiled me wasn’t a date?” You gasp. “Okay. I see how it is.”

Mingyu snorts but plucks your jacket off the coat rack and holds it open to help you in. “Alright, drama queen. Let’s go.”

The drive is filled with chatter. Over the past week, the initial spark of attraction only grew between you; through chats at the gym, texting, or the one night he came to your apartment and ended up passing out on the couch while the movie continued to play in the background. Somehow it was more intimate waking up fully clothed, big spooning him with your face buried between his shoulder blades than having him drill your guts until tears streaked your face.

Since you slept over that first night, you’ve noticed a plethora of things that make you more fond of Mingyu. How he slurs his words when he’s excited, talking so fast you can barely decipher what he’s saying. If you throw a wink his way while walking across the gym his eyes go wide like he’s completely taken aback by your interest; as if he didn’t have a front seat to how much you liked him. Or if he notices you looking he’ll not so subtly flex or make a face that has you laughing so hard you nearly tumble off the treadmill. Or the way Mingyu prides himself on being a gentleman; pausing his workout and walking you to your car, insisting it's too dark out for him to be comfortable letting you go alone (partially because it's his fault your gym visits became a two hour endeavor since the night in the car, he just can’t stop distracting you in the name of getting to know you better).

It’s the same at the restaurant. Mingyu takes your coat and pulls out your chair. He asks for more details on the book you mentioned on the way over, asking if he can borrow your copy once you finish. He feeds you some of his entree off his fork, splits dessert to satisfy your sweet tooth, and nabs the check from the waiter before you can even think of offering to split the bill.

It’s almost too perfect; like he is running a checklist in his head. But Mingyu isn’t that kind of guy. His enthusiasm is just that, enthusiasm for spending time with you, getting to know you, picking your brain like you’re the most interesting person he’s ever met and he can’t wait to know more.

“How did you not know it was a couples class?” You ask, laughing into the curve of his arm as he walks you back to the car.

“It didn’t say it on the flier! It just said ‘portions for two’ and I thought that meant I’d leave with leftovers.”

“Wow. So Wonwoo got you banned and ate your food?”

“Wonwoo got me banned and neither of us gotta eat the food.”

The collar of Mingyu’s shirt flitters when his chest shakes with laughter, watching you down the slope of his nose. Like a flame in a vacuum, all the oxygen in your lungs is sucked up when you notice how good he looks even under the sterile overhead light. The glass of wine you sipped through dinner doesn’t help; turning your insides to mush and your blood to a boil.

Mingyu is so genuinely sweet you almost feel guilty for crowding him against his car and palming the zipper of his jeans. The taste of whiskey clings to his tongue, sucked away by your own until he opens the door and ushers you into the back seat.

“Mingyu,” you gasp, plucking the foil package from his grip. “Did you expect to fuck me tonight?”

“No,” he groans into the side of your tit, thanking whatever power in the universe exists that you hadn’t worn a bra. “But a man should always be prepared.”

You snort, “Okay, ‘Mr. I don’t sleep with girls I don’t date.’”

“I think that's former ‘Mr. I don’t’ whatever the fuck,” he moans as he finds your mouth.

Fishing his cock out from his underwear, you lazily jerk him to full mast. Mingyu’s hip buck into the swipe of your thumb. You’d drop your mouth to suck away the mess  collecting there but the back seat of his car doesn’t provide much room since your date claims most of the space already. Instead, you settle for tracing your tongue across the raised veins webbing across his neck and nipping at the sensitive lobe of his ear.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Mingyu paws at your ass, fingers digging into the flesh and dragging your covered core closer to his cock. His other hand dips beneath your skirt, thumb swiping at your clit and two thick fingers pushing aside the scrap of fabric posing as underwear to stretch you open without preamble.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Mingyu pants.

You meet every curl of his fingers with a whine, face falling into the cradle of his jaw as he works you up. He’s everywhere; all you can feel, touch, taste. Even his cologne floods your nose; the scent of powdery spice and something intrinsically him that you can’t name.

Whether intentional or not, the match of pace isn’t lost on your mind as your fist sinks over Mingyu’s length the same time he stuffs you with his digits; fucking you by proxy while his tongue licks away every sound of satisfaction before it can make its way between your lips.

Before long, Mingyu bats away your hand to use his own. The second the latex is rolled down he holds himself for you, offering his cock like a prize you can’t refuse.

And he’s right.

The initial discomfort trickles up your spine. Eyes closed, chest caved, you take every inch as Mingyu whispers praise after praise into your neck. Twitching in each other’s hold, each clench of your cunt dips his stomach until you pull him back to your mouth and goad him with a demanding draw against his tongue with your own; a wet suckle more obscene than the way he splits you has him returning the gesture with fervor.

Hips finding a jilted rhythm, Mingyu manages to latch to one of your nipples, teeth razing along the sensitive skin until you nearly collapse from the delightful pain.

Arching into his chest so hard it hurts, your voice cracks, “Oh, Gyu.”

“Good girl,” he groans into your chest.

The hand on your ass pulls you across his cock, forcing you down with each of his thrusts up. Mingyu’s loud but you’re louder and the abandoned top floor of the parking deck doesn’t provide any disguise from what’s happening behind the foggy windows of his SUV. 

As sexy as you are with your head thrown back, desperately moaning his name, the fear of getting caught is starting to suffocate him.

You beat against his chest when Mingyu pins you in place. He crushes you flat against him, pelvis to pelvis, so deep you feel him in your throat. Tight around the stretch, he nearly loses his train of thought but finds it when an involuntary rush of his thighs makes you squeak.

He brushes his thumb across the apple of your cheek in an effort to quell the bubbling tantrum behind your eyes. “Shhh,” he whispers. “We can't get caught.” 

Time stops as you come to a crossroads. Eye to eye, you can see him waiting for a signal. If you want to stop, drive thirty minutes back to either of your apartments, and then go at it like rabbits, Mingyu will do it. If you want him to stop, drop you off at your doorstep, and send him home with the worst hard on of his life, he’ll smile through the tears. But if you want to finish what you’ve both started in the discomfort of the back seat, Mingyu needs you to be quiet.

So you can listen without complaint, bury your face in the column of his neck and bite your lip until it bleeds from strain. Or you can let Mingyu decide the best course of action.

“Then shut me up.” 

A beat of absolute silence rattles your shaking confidence. Mingyu’s eyes widen, jumping back like he’s been burned but you fake courage until you spot the way he licks his teeth at the idea.

Whatever permission he’s looking for he finds in the slight dip of your chin. You watch Mingyu’s mood shift in an instant. The playful tilt of his lips melt away, the corners of his eyes freeze over their usual humor. And the arm around the dip of your waist squeezes so tight you fear he’ll leave a bruise in the shape of his palm.

The hand on your face falls to your jaw, pinching your cheek between his pointer finger and thumb as he tsks, forcing your head back and forth mockingly before he forces his thumb between your teeth.

“Shut. Up.” 

He punctuates his command with a bruising thrust of his cock; thrilled at the way his thumb digging into your tongue chokes any sound. The hand on your ass nearly rips your underwear as Mingyu uses it to guide your hips, keeping you bouncing in his lap until you're drooling.

Mingyu’s teeth rake against your jaw, “Touch yourself.”

You clumsily snake a hand down, hips jerking under the blind swipe of fingers at your core. Eyes unfocused, ears filled with the rush of blood, you don’t resist the urge to bite his thumb just to see what he’ll do next.

The sting of his palm against your ass isn’t a shock.

But the wet of his fingers on your throat is.

And when Mingyu squeezes, cutting off the blood to your brain for a second in a show of possessive strength, your choked wail is music to his ears.

“Fuck, you like that?”

Nodding like a bobble head, more pathetic whimpers fill the car. 

With a shift of weight, he makes you grind against his lap, the metal of his belt buckle cutting into the back of your thighs. But you’re full to the brink of shredding apart you can’t bring yourself to care. Heat in the pit of your stomach blooms, used and deep.

Mingyu fans his hand along your throat, fingers digging into the jut of your jaw to make you look at his face. His hair is a mess, cheeks rosy with sweat at his hairline. A low rumble in his throat is all the warning you get before he spits on your lips and it glides down your chin; slipping under his palm while he squeezes until stars dance in your vision.

Hips stuttering, everything draws tight; every muscle, every vein, each individual cell contracts and detonates until Mingyu fucks into your so hard your head hits the roof as he flails. Thighs firm against the top of his, you feel each sputter into the condom.

“Mingyu,” you croak, throat wrecked.

Everything feels heavy and worn when he brings you into the warmth of his chest. Somehow, you hadn’t managed to undo a single button beyond the four that let you peek at the dip between his pecs; but the friction of his shirt against your sensitive chest makes you shiver. Sweat and spit leave the fabric clinging uncomfortably but you don’t have the energy to change it.

“Jesus Christ.” Mingyu draws in a heavy breath, and the motion has your legs twitching again. “You okay?”

Nodding into his neck, your eyes slip shut. If he keeps tracing shapes on your back, you’re in serious trouble of falling asleep right there in the back of his car with his softening length still inside you. Attempting to prevent the momentum from taking over, you rise on your knees, only for Mingyu to bring you back down.

“Just…just let me hold you for a second.” he sighs, sounding as exhausted as you feel. “Please.”

Peppering languid kisses across his face, down the curve of his cheek, up the bridge of his nose, you smile when he pouts at the lack of attention to his lips. But when you meet them with your own, it's nearly impossible to call it a kiss from the sleepy grins splitting your faces.

“Wanna come back to mine?” Mingyu whispers into your cheek, leaving his own series of kisses. “We can watch that new horror movie you were talking about.”

“You hate scary movies.”

“Oh no, I guess you’ll have to stay the night in case I can’t sleep.”

“How awful!” You mock. “Did you buy more cereal?”

“Mhm.”

With a monumental sigh, “Then I guess I can come over.”

It takes nearly fifteen minutes to find the courage to unwind from each other. Mingyu distracts you by tracing shapes between your shoulder blades and making you guess his artistic interpretation. Each time you're wrong he demands a kiss. Each time you're right he gives you one back.

When you make him guess what your finger burns into his shoulder he nearly faints before deciding it's time to head home, hands intertwined over the center console the entire way.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {7}

Summary: The first night at Charles’ house is almost ruined before it can even begin. Warnings: angst, light smut WC: 3.2k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.

The paper bag in your hands crinkled as you opened it to see what Charles had asked you to carry. “What is this?” 

“Dinner.”

You raised a brow and closed it back up. “Those are ingredients,” you corrected, placing it on the kitchen bench in his apartment. “I hope you aren’t expecting me to cook because you will be bitterly disappointed.”

He laughed as he closed the front door and kicked his shoes off. “It’s all prepared, the pasta just needs boiling but I can do that. Why don’t you take a look around?”

You already planned on being nosey when he wasn’t looking but now you could openly snoop and happily left him to his own devices. Like most apartments in Monaco, it was smaller than you were used to but it was more than enough for a man living on his own. 

You circled the living room and tried not to be envious of all the photos he had hung in frames around the room. Faces you recognised held carefree smiles that they never had in your presence and Charles was no exception. You thought you had seen his real smile but even that was strained compared to what was captured when he was with his friends and family.

“I’m starting to think that frown is just your resting face,” Charles commented as he stepped out of the galley kitchen to see your progress. 

You schooled your face until the lines evened out and a mild look of boredom hid your thoughts as you turned away from the photos and found something that made your heart nearly stop. The manuscript was plain and unassuming on the shelf, the title print small and barely legible on the bare sewn spine, but you knew that book.

“You stole it.”

Charles’ confused gaze followed you to the bookshelf. “What?”

“It wasn’t enough to take him from me but you took our book too,” you muttered as you tugged it from the shelf and ran your fingers across the faded purple inscription in the corner: For Jules. A hint of the berry scented ink still clung to the page and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you opened it to the dog eared page you left behind.

“This was a mistake,” you said as you closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf. If it wasn’t this, it would just be something else- there was too much history to think this could ever work. “I can’t do this, Charles.”

He intercepted your exit, blocking the door with pleading eyes. “Wait, please. I didn’t know it was yours. You can have it back.” 

“I don’t want it back! I want to finish reading it to him but I’ll never get that chance because of you.” You took a step closer, ready to go through him to get out the door but he surprised you by sliding down the white panel until his ass planted on the floor. Charles pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them as he looked down to hide in shame.

The moment of silence dragged on as his breath grew as ragged as yours and you both relived that day in the hospital.

“I’m sorry,” he stressed as he threw his head back, the thud heavy against the wood. “I’m fucking sorry! For all of it. I didn’t deserve the time I got with him, I don’t deserve this career - it should have been his, like you. I definitely don’t deserve you.”

You slumped to the floor too with your back to the kitchen cabinets. This was not how you imagined your evening going. The plan had been simple; stay the night with Charles and arrive at the paddock for his first practice together - hard launching the relationship and confirming all the rumours that you had both started.

“When did this become your pity party?” you asked as you studied the herringbone tile floor instead of the enigma sitting opposite you.

Charles’ jaw dropped and he shook his head as he stammered over his words. “It’s not…I’m not…that’s not what…”

“How do you make it through interviews? One question and you’re a blithering mess.” You rolled your eyes and stretched your leg out to nudge his foot. “You are wrong by the way. I wasn’t meant to be Jules’ either.”

“I know.” He nodded and sighed, wiping his nose that had turned pink. “It probably doesn’t change anything but I finished it. I read him that book before he…before he died.”

You pushed yourself up to your feet and offered him your hand. His palm was clammy against your skin and you barely made any effort to pull him up as he did the work himself, rising to his full height in front of you. “You’re right, it doesn’t change anything,” you admitted, watching his shoulders deflate. 

“Figured as much.”

“But,” you said as you held a finger up when he went to move away and he froze, “that was a proper apology that actually felt real.”

“So you forgive me?”

“No, I don’t even know how to do that, but I’m not going to leave.”

He smiled like it was a small victory and enveloped you in one of his spontaneous hugs that you were slowly growing used to. “I don’t know how, but I am going to make it up to you one day. I promise.”

“How about you start with just making dinner?” You stepped out of his embrace and looked around the room with weary eyes. “I’m not going to find any more surprises, am I?”

He chewed his lip as he thought for a moment. “I have his helmet in my office but the door is closed.”

You swallowed deeply and nodded. You were going to avoid that room at all costs. “Keep it that way.”

Panic gripped you as the bike started to wobble. Your feet tangled in the pedals and your fingers slipped from the brakes before the gravel driveway rapidly came up to meet you. The skin on your knees stung with the dozens of little stones that grazed them and your elbows were in a similar state as you lay sprawled beneath the summer sun. 

“Up you get,” Jules said as he dusted the stones off and picked you up. 

Your bottom lip began to tremble and he shook his head. “There’s no use crying, lapinette, might as well laugh and learn.”

“I don’t want to laugh,” you grumbled, kicking the bike to emphasise your displeasure.

Jules shrugged and picked the bike up, holding it out for you to try once more. “Well, that’s usually when you need to the most.”

You accepted the bike and looked longingly at the trainer wheels he had taken off. The plastic wheels were beside his kart that was propped up on a stand, some of the parts in pieces for him to finish cleaning before he rebuilt it for the race. “Do you think you can win?”

“Absolutely, just like I know you can ride that bike.”

“I fell off.”

He laughed at your attitude and knew you would be a handful when you grew up. Pointing to the driveway he said, “Then you better try again, no? Because if you don’t ride it then I can’t win!” 

You laughed at the stupidity of the statement but rose to the challenge, throwing a leg over the pastel pink bike and ringing the little bell on the handle for good luck. “You better win, Jules.”

You took a deep breath and pushed the pedal down, slowly building momentum. The wind blew your hair back and you laughed as you realised you were doing it. You were biking…straight towards the wrought iron gates.

You jolted awake in the unfamiliar bedroom and found Charles sleeping soundly. Though you had woken before the impact came you knew Jules had saved you. The lanky teen had sprinted after the bike and grabbed you from the seat before it careened into the metal, buckling the front wheel. You hadn’t quite mastered bike riding that week but Jules still won his karting race.

Sleep was as distant as the memory that had resurfaced so you quietly slipped from the room and found yourself at the bookshelf. Sometimes you wished you had no memory, then you couldn’t be reminded of how happy you had been. But, on the flipside, if you didn’t have the memory you feared you would never know what happiness was at all. 

When Charles woke to an empty bed he wondered if you had left after all despite watching you fall asleep beside him. It was only the sound of the balcony door sliding open that let him breathe a sigh of relief and he climbed out of the bed to check on you. A cool breeze left a chill in the air of the living room and Charles grabbed the blanket that hung from the back of the sofa before he stepped outside.

“You’ll catch a cold like that,” he whispered to the night. The Ferrari shirt you wore fell halfway down your thighs but curled up on the outdoor settee had the red material barely covering your underwear and Charles covered the bare skin with the blanket.

“Bad dream?” he asked as he took a seat beside you and noticed the book in your hands. 

“Worse,” you replied. “A good memory.”

Charles draped his arm over the back of your seat, his fingers softly touching your shoulder, and he tucked his legs under the blanket too. “Want to talk about it?”

You gave him a look that made him chuckle before turning your attention back to the page. You were halfway through the story and you could finally appreciate the action thriller now that you understood the vengeance Jack Reacher felt and the way he fought but even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the dream. With an irritated sign, you closed the book and took to searching the stars instead. 

“Charles?” He hummed quietly and you looked across to see his relaxed state watching the dark sky too. “If I ask you something, can you just do it without reading too much into it?”

He tore his eyes away from the brightest star in the sky and frowned. “Uh, I guess it depends on what you ask me.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

His lips curled up in a slow smile and his fingers danced across your collar to the base of your throat as he leaned in. “You don’t have to ask me.”

“It’s not because I like you, I just need something to stop me thinking,” you clarified. 

“Again, you don’t have to ask me.” His lips brushed against yours before they teased your jawline and his breath warmed your ear. “You can use me however you want.”

It was already a messy situation and adding sex to the mix was only going to end badly but you needed it. You needed to forget the thoughts racing through your head and you needed the high of an orgasm. Charles was more than willing to give you both when he carried you back to his bed.

The next time you woke you were in a far better headspace.

You felt the ghost of a kiss on your cheek before Charles left to get ready for the day but you buried your head deeper in the pillow and tried to ignore the sweet ache in your body. It was impossible. Your core throbbed with the memory of how he had filled it and your thighs pressed together in search of friction only to feel the beard burn he had left between them. 

“Fuck,” you groaned as you realised you would not be getting back to sleep.

“Regretting your life choices?” Charles asked from the doorway, two mugs of coffee in his hands and not a lick of clothing to be seen.

“On the list of my regrets, this doesn’t even register,” you said as you sat up and accepted the hot cup, your state of undress not much better. “But it would have been easier if you sucked in bed.”

“How’s that?” He lifted his pillow up against the headboard and took a seat with an amused grin at the compliment.

“For starters, I wouldn’t want to do it again. Things are already complicated enough and now I have technically been fucked by my boss.”

“If you want to get technical, you fucked me,” he pointed out with a smirk. “You were in control, babe.”

You took a deep breath and told yourself it was too early for violence, even if he was right. Charles had been quite clear on the fact you were in control, especially when he sat in much the same position against the headboard and let you ride him into oblivion. “Maybe it will make it on my list of regrets after all.”

“You can worry about them later,” he said after a few mouthfuls of his coffee. “We should start getting ready to head to the track and your hair screams ‘sex’. Bathroom is across the hall, there’s a new toothbrush in the top drawer if you need.”

“Wow, a spare toothbrush? That screams manwhore.”

“I’m just being a gentleman, you’re the one that swallowed.”

You nearly spilled the coffee with the laugh that bubbled out of your mouth unexpectedly. “Ah, there’s the regret. I knew I should have snowballed you.”

His nose wrinkled with the idea and you laughed darkly. Next time he would probably hesitate and remember this conversation. You froze. You were already thinking about the next time you would fuck and that was enough to stun you silent so you busied your mouth finishing the drink. 

It was hard not to fall in love with the atmosphere of race week in Monaco. Arriving hand in hand with Charles had the desired effect and you were still feeling the ripples of it as the day ended. 

“I’m exhausted and I didn’t even do anything,” you admitted through the headset as the private helicopter whisked you back to Nice. 

Charles flexed his hand that had furiously signed autographs right up until the moment he stepped inside the helicopter. “It gets like that sometimes but I only feel it after everything goes quiet.”

“Are you sure you want to come to this dinner? You can go home and rest. Jacques can fly you back.”

Charles reached across the seat and took your hand even though there was no audience to witness the touch. “And leave you alone with your parents?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I have managed to survive 25 years on my own.”

“That’s a miracle in itself. I probably wouldn’t be trusted with the steak knife if that was me.”

You grinned at the joke and rested your head on his shoulder. “I like this dark side of you.”

“I suppose that’s a start.”

Your good mood was brought down the moment you spotted the mansion before landing. Too many cars lined the driveway for the simple family dinner your mother planned and you fell quiet as the helicopter touched down in the backyard. 

“What is this?” Charles asked, looking down at his casual jeans and sweatshirt.

“The tenth circle of hell,” you muttered.

Veronica was practically vibrating with excitement when you arrived at the patio door and she held out two tickets for the opera tomorrow night, as requested. “Silly girl. You have dinner with Prince Albert, you can’t even go.”

Charles knew better after seeing the many masks you had adorned to hide your thoughts but it still amazed him how quickly you could become a woman he didn’t recognise. A sneer grew, twisting your smile into a cruel mockery of the one he knew and your eyes narrowed as you swiped the tickets from her hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“I tried, but that’s what you get for being a spoiled little brat.”

“Alicia! My room, now!” Your voice carried through the mansion and you stormed up the stairs with Charles following behind, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. The maid was already waiting outside your bedroom door when you arrived and you barrelled inside, slamming the door shut in Veronica’s smirking face.

The dress hanging in the closet was still wrapped in the garment bag and you took it off the hanger, holding it out to Alicia. “Get this dress out of my sight! I never want to see it again.”

Alicia looked a little shocked at the outburst you needed to be heard through the door. “But it is McQueen.”

“I don’t care!” You lowered your voice to a whisper and reached into your pocket. “Here’s two tickets to La Bohème, take the dress and go with Javier. You didn’t think I forgot your anniversary, did you? Go.”

Tears filled Alicia’s eyes and she threw her arms around you. “Thank you.”

You shook your head and sincerely said, “You deserve more than this.”

Alicia dipped at the waist and delicately hung the dress over her arm as she walked to the door. Veronica saw the tears in Alicia’s eyes and shook her head as the quiet maid rushed down the stairwell.

“Your father will hear about this tantrum.”

You tipped your nose up and crossed your arms smugly. “I’m his only child, that makes me his favourite by default. Now run along and tell him.”

Veronica turned on her heel with a scoff and you closed the door before sighing heavily. You would probably pay for the insolence in one way or another but it was worth it.

“Why did you do that?” Charles asked as he reached past your hip and locked the door.

“I couldn’t pay for the tickets myself and they already think the worst of me, might as well play the fool for a good cause.”

Charles opened his arms and you stepped into the embrace. He could see how draining the act was and couldn’t wait until the day you left Nice. “You’re a good person,” he said quietly before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t think the guests downstairs would agree with you. I don’t even know why they are here.”

You found out soon enough when you emerged from your room dressed in more appropriate attire. Just as you suspected, it was punishment and you would play the fool once again for your mother’s entertainment. You felt sick seeing the grand piano in the dining hall and your fingers stiffened at the thought of sitting in front of the guests to play at her whim.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked as he saw your pallor fade.

Forcing the discontent away, you smiled in time for the first guest to spot your entrance into the room. “Just peachy, Charles. Ready to act lovesick?”

He didn’t need to act, and you found it all too easy that maybe it wasn’t acting either. Your body fit perfectly into the curve of his arm and you moved together through the room making introductions. But all too soon your mother dragged you away and snapped her finger at the piano.

“The Economy Minister favours Beethoven,” she whispered with a look to the man your father was for lack of a better word, schmoozing. “Don’t fuck this up.”

Click here for next part.

[moonstruckme]

hii omg I absolutely adore your blog!! i love the interactions between the guys and reader, the way you write them makes them feel so so real 💫 I was wondering, how do you think they'd react to reader having a horrible nightmare and not being able to fall asleep? you dont have to write it ofc, and sorry for my english it's not my first language 🥰

Hi, thank you lovely! Please don't worry about your english, it's amazing and it'd be no problem even if it weren't, and thanks for requesting <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You wake with a tear already slithering down your face from the injustice of it. Your chest feels empty and crushed, and you press your palm to your breastbone as if that will ease the hollow ache. You come to terms quickly with the fact that none of it was real, you’re okay, but there’s still evidence of your terror and indignation in your too-hot skin. You pull the sheets covering you to the side so that half your body is exposed to the cool air. 

“Hey.” The word is hardly more than a raspy exhale, Sirius’ voice slurred with sleep. You’d evidently slipped free of his arms at some point in the night. You distinctly remember falling asleep with his breath on your forehead, but now there’s nearly a foot of empty space between you. His face rubs against the pillowcase as he shifts to see you better. “Hey, what’s up?” 

“Nothing,” you say, though your voice is tight with unwanted tears. They keep squishing out of your eyes, like aftershocks of an earthquake that’s already fading from your memory. “Just a dream.” 

Sirius reaches for your face. His hand is pleasantly cool against your skin, but he makes a sleepy discontented sound at the wetness he finds. “You’re crying.” 

“Shh, you’ll wake them.” You cover his hand with yours, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I’m okay, go back to sleep.” 

Sheets rustle as James rolls over to face you. “Whas’ going on?” 

You sigh. “Nothing, sorry.” You turn your face from Sirius’ touch, moving one leg over the edge of the bed. “I’m going to go get some water.” 

“She’s crying,” Sirius tattles, though it’s hard to be too mad at him when his voice is still foggy with sleepy bemusement. He wraps his hand around your elbow. “Wait, stay.” 

You go to shush him again, but then you see that Remus already has his eyes open. He’s been watching you quietly for who knows how long. Superb. At least your crying has finally stopped. 

“What’s wrong, angel?” James says through a yawn, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he props himself up on his elbow to see you over Sirius. “Bad dream?” 

“Yeah, just a dream,” you reassure him softly. “Go back to sleep, I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, though he still looks like he’s got weights sewn into his eyelids. “Wanna talk about it?” 

“No, thank you,” you say as kindly as you can. “I just want to get a drink, then I’ll go back to sleep.” 

“I’ll get it for you, love.” Remus’ voice is rough. He rolls over and says warningly, “Light,” before turning on the lamp beside the bed. Sirius makes a low moan of protest, turning his face into the pillow, and you and James both squint your eyes. Remus passes James his glasses, sitting up to get out of bed. 

“I can get it,” you object. You go to mirror him, but Sirius holds fast to your elbow, preventing you from moving off the mattress. 

“No, I know better.” Remus steps into his slippers. “I’ve got it, you stay.” 

You watch guiltily as he plods out of the room, then turn to James and Sirius with a bemused look. He knows better?

James gives you a small smile, tinged with apology. “Whenever you say you’re going to get water in the middle of the night, you never come back,” he explains as Sirius wraps his arms around your waist, drawing you closer. “None of us wants you to deal with these things on your own, angel.” 

Your face starts heating again with the knowledge that they’ve found you out. You do often say you’re going for water after nightmares like these, so that your boyfriends will go back to sleep even though you can’t. You usually end up sitting in the living room, distracting yourself with sudoku or reading until it’s a reasonable hour to make breakfast and pretend you’ve only just woken up.

“Give ‘er here, Pads,” James says at your touched silence. “We can share.” 

Sirius holds you to his front and rolls over, situating you between him and James on the bed. James takes your face in his hands and sets about kissing your salty cheeks, lips wet and smooshed and more loving than you could ever deserve. You can’t help but smile as he does it, and Sirius makes a quiet sound of satisfaction, giving your middle an appreciative squeeze. 

“They’re just dreams,” you argue when James pauses. “I don’t need to be babied over something that didn’t really happen.” 

“They’re still upsetting,” Remus says as he comes in with a cup of water, “aren’t they?” 

“Sort of, I guess.” You sit up to take the cup from him, doing your best to convey your gratitude through a look. He gives you a tired smile as he gets back in bed beside James. “But it’s like, half the time I don’t even know what I’m upset about. I forget them.” 

Sirius disentangles his arms from you as you sit upright. He settles for rubbing your lower back instead. “But you can’t sleep afterward.” It’s not a question. 

You take a sip of water, speaking quietly into the cup. “I think I get too worked up.” 

“That’s alright, darling.” Remus’ voice is soft and smooth as butter. “Your body’s just still working through the emotions of it all, yeah? But maybe, instead of running off and staying up all night, you could let us help you.” 

You look over at him. The warm light from the lamp makes his mussed brown hair look golden as he watches you consideringly. “How?” you ask tentatively.

“Seems like all you need is to calm down,” James says, looking up at you from where his head rests on the pillow just beside your hip. You want to squirm at all the attention, but there’s nothing pitying in his gaze. “We can at least try to help with that.” 

You hesitate, and Remus reaches over, wrapping his hand around your cup. “Done with this, lovely?” He takes it when you nod and sets it down on the nightstand. “Alright, lie down.” 

You do as he says, shimmying beneath the covers. Remus shuts off the light. 

Sirius’ grip is solid as he turns you by your hips, setting your back to his front. “Still feeling too warm?” he asks softly. 

You blink into the darkness. “How’d you know?” 

He chuckles, and you feel his lips press against the back of your head a moment before his hands snake under your pajama shirt, cool palms pressed flat to your stomach. “Because I know you, sweet girl.” 

“Do you think taking some deep breaths would help?” Remus murmurs. 

You’re not sure, but you try, counting as your lungs expand and contract until they start to feel a bit more like their normal size. 

“There you go.” James’ lips press to the spot between your brows. “Does that feel better, angel?” 

“Yeah,” you admit. The word emerges like a sigh. Your voice is slipping away, quieting as you grow drowsy. Sirius can tell, and he begins to rub his palm slowly back and forth across your ribs. It grows warm against your skin, but you don’t mind so much anymore. “Thank you guys. Sorry for waking you.” 

“Don’t worry about it, darling.” Remus’ words start to slur as his own sleep finds him. “We’d always rather all be awake than leave you by yourself.”

[transmascissues]

next time someone tries to tell me people don’t demonize and act violently toward trans men and transmascs, i’m just going to make them read this reply i got to a positivity post that was specifically about trans manhood and transmasculinity. this is basically just every negative thing people say no one says about us rolled into one message that’s aimed directly at us.

and as if this isn’t enough on its own, their whole blog is full of this disgusting shit. it seems to be dedicated to it, actually. (fair warning, don’t look at the next two screenshots if you don’t want to see even more genuinely awful transphobia.)

you can say what you want about how they’re probably just a troll or baiting or doing this for attention but the fact remains that, regardless of their true intentions, these are real things that a real person is saying about trans men&mascs, publicly and proudly and to our faces because they want it to do damage.

i’ve dealt with people like this before, on a much closer level. when i was a teenager, i had a grown woman come into my dms just to send me very graphic and detailed instructions on how to kill myself. literally entire paragraphs with all of the steps she wanted me to take. before i blocked her, i told her she was lucky she sent it to me and not someone more vulnerable, because otherwise she might have real blood on her hands. she just sent the whole thing again.

we can argue all day about infantilization versus demonization, erasure versus hypervisibility, what counts as violence, what words we use to talk about our oppression, and so on. but the reality is, whether you believe people want us dead or not, they clearly do, and a lot of them really aren’t making any effort to hide it. at this point, if you can’t see it, it’s because you don’t care about our lives enough to look at the reality that’s right in front of your face.

before you do anything else, block this person. don’t engage with them directly, don’t give them the satisfaction of the attention they might be fishing for, just block them. but don’t forget that they exist either, especially if you’re not a trans man or transmasc yourself. don’t just block them and move on and forget that there are real people out there who will say these things about us, who genuinely enjoy the thought that their actions might have deadly consequences.

because these are the people you empower to come out of hiding and start being blatant about their hatred when you insist that no one wants us dead, when you openly mock us and demonize us and try to cast us out from the community that we were supposed to share. when even our own people decide we’re an acceptable target, these bigots throw a fucking party because you’ve just told them they can get away with murder as long as it’s our blood on their hands. this particular blog was started recently, and i guarantee it’s not a coincidence that they started it in the midst of a rise in online anti-transmasculinity.

it really is telling, how much hate a positivity post has incited. y’all can’t stand when we talk about the bad things that happen to us, but you hate our happiness even more.

[mikichko]

⛔ this blog is 18+ !! minors and ageless blogs please dni ⛔

actually i think the real way you meet tf141 is when some dickbag on base is just harassing the shit out of trans!soap.

blabbering on and on about him never being a real man. how he can climb onto the laps of commanding officers and climb up the proverbial ladder but he’ll never truly earn his rank. that he’ll never be a true soldier of quality caliber like him. yadda yadda yadda. whole lot of bullshit.

the decision to spin his fucking jaw is real easy when 1) he’s being transphobic as fuck, 2) you hate this fucking guy , 3) you’ve been itching for a fight.

and see here’s the thing right, everyone in the fucking army thinks that you just have to take any bullshit anyone gives you and “toughen up.” but frankly, this motherfucker’s mother clearly didnt teach him any manners so you ought to.

all anyone sees is you getting up from the table where your squad is sitting, walking over calmly to douchebag mcgee, and tapping him on the shoulder. he’s not even finished turning around fully when your right hook hits him and sends him stumbling back flat on his ass. and from the way he starfishes on the floor you know that fuckers out cold.

you just step over him, feet planted on either side of his hips and lean down to look at him as he comes to. brother isnt even done blinking the confusion out of his eyes when you place your foot on his chest, bending down to get closer to him and putting more pressure on his chest.

“i ever hear you spewing that putrid shit out of your mouth again to the seargent or any one on this base, hell anyone in the goddamn service and your jaw’s the last thing you’ll be worrying about. we clear?”

barely finished nodding by the time you step off him and walk away.

your squad leader’s already at price’s side apologizing for your behavior, who, despite keeping a straight face and responding with a silent nod, you’ve just won the favor of. hell, whole task force really.

[luvrodite]

OCTOBER 7: YOU FLOWER, YOU FEAST JASON TODD (5.1K)

kinktober prompts: virginity + praise | kinktober masterlist

synopsis. you meet a beautiful stranger and every bit of sense you've accumulated over the years flies out the window. what's the worst that could happen?

cw: f!reader, smut, gentle mdom, praise, virginity loss, virgin!reader, dry humping, cunnilingus, fingering f!receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex minors, blank and ageless blogs dni

technically a part 2 to for you i'd fall from grace (just to touch your face) but can be read as a standalone

The doors open with a quiet ding. 

Now it is you on the other side watching him step out, and a beat passes. The world seems to hold its breath.

You take his hand. 

It feels like your undoing and rebirth all in one.

Jason’s hotel room is…luxurious. That is the first thing you notice when he leads you in, opening the door with his free hand. He doesn’t let go of you for a moment, fishing the keycard out of his pocket smoothly as his mouth skims over yours. He presses you into the door for a moment, and then you hear two small beeps before you’re being walked backwards.

When he pulls away, he’s backlit by gold and your eyes trail over his shoulder to take in the spacious room you’ve been led into.

Rich, patterned carpet, detailed plaster carvings along the trim and a chandelier – your eyes widen when you spot the bed. Jason huffs out a laugh, breath tickling your ear as you take in the wrinkled sheets, untouched from when you’d interrupted his night to coax him out with you, a cloud of what you’re sure is a thousand thread count bedsheets. It’s fit to house a king.

There’s a mouth against your shoulder, and you look back up to your companion. Jason glitters before you, sparks from the chandelier glass winking at the corners of your vision, robing him in reds, blues and purples. Your heart flutters as he grows closer.

“Hi, pretty thing,” he whispers, pressing his mouth to yours. “You okay?”

His hands are warm against your sides, and you nod into the kiss, a hum caught in his mouth. But your lips tremble against his, and you’ve begun to shake a little in his arms. You mourn the loss when he breaks the kiss, teal eyes narrowing on you. 

A hand comes up to cradle your face, a dry warmth that bleeds into you, and your eyes flutter as it tilts your head. 

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

But how do you tell him that you are? You’re more sure of this than anything in your life. Every cell in your body, every nerve and vein and beat of your heart all thrum with the same thought, the same desire – this, him. You want him so badly, there’s an ache between your legs and when you shift your weight you can feel the dampness of your underwear, sticky with need.

How do you tell him?

That even in your desire, even in your certainty that you won’t be leaving this room unchanged, there is fear. 

You think of girlhood, of closed bedroom windows and lonely nights, of eyeing valentines enviously. You think of bare knees and secret touches beneath bed covers, substituting your fingers for another’s, faceless hands skimming your innermost parts–

You blink at Jason. Jason, who is solid, and real. Who has already unknowingly stolen a first, on his way to take another. Teal smudges in your vision, and you press closer, seeking comfort from the bigger man. 

“No one has ever..” you try to say, but your voice wavers, and heat crawls up your neck to settle in your face. A thumb skims across the nape of your neck, and you shiver.

“Will you look at me?” 

You linger in the safety of his embrace for a moment longer, before you do as he says, tipping your head to gaze at him. He smiles, pleased, and the sight of it sends a rush of blood to your head. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a squeeze to your side. “You were saying something. Tell me.”

You blink. Surely he wasn’t going to make you say it? Hadn’t he heard enough? You’d only known him so long, but Jason seemed intelligent enough to connect the dots. But he only stares patiently at you, waiting.

“I..” you lick your lips, throat suddenly dry. “I’ve never done this before.”

The look in his eyes confirms your suspicions – he had only wanted to hear you say it. It’s no less gentle, but his touch tightens around you a little, and you swallow as his pupils, already blown wide, seem to darken even more. 

“Done what, baby?” he rasps out, lowering his head to nose at the column of your throat. “Let a stranger take you back to his room?”

You squirm in his arms, hands coming up to clutch the fabric of his shirt, fistfuls of cotton wrinkling under your touch. 

“Mmh..no..I mean..yes..but–”

“But what?” he mumbles into your jaw.

“I’ve never – with anyone,” you stutter out, squeezing his shoulders, tucking your face into his collar. 

He withdraws then, eyes glossy. “No one?” he asks, voice steady save for the hitch in his breath when you shake your head. 

“Is–is that okay?” you ask and his eyes slip shut for a second, forehead falling forward to press against yours. The both of you stand in the living area of his obscenely large hotel room, but all you see is aqua eyes, curtained by thick lashes, staring into yours. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathes out a laugh, thumb sliding a path back up to your cheek. “Is that okay with you? I don’t expect anything, we can hang out a little longer, or I can walk you back down to your room–”

“No!” you protest, and his eyes widen. You scrunch your eyes closed, lowering your voice. “No, I…I do want to – y’know.”

He laughs, and you feel the press of his mouth against your cheek, there and gone just as quickly. It’s chaste, and sweet.

“Yeah?” he asks, amused. “You want to…y’know?”

You frown at him, nerves steadily melting away as he grins at you. You’ve known him less than a week but this familiarity feels age old. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Aw,” he snickers, smoothing your pout away with a kiss. “‘M sorry. You’re just cute. I can’t help it.”

You have to squirm away when his fingers pinch your sides teasingly, laughing too loudly for the hour it currently is. He doesn’t seem to care that you might be disturbing the other guests – but you suppose for what he must’ve paid for this room, any sound is unlikely to bleed through the walls. “Stop! Stop!”

He grins at you, ceasing his attack. Eyes softening, he tilts his head, gesturing to the living space you’d overlooked. A chaise longue and expensive looking sofa are arranged neatly, flowers blooming in a vase on the coffee table. You spy a book resting beside it, neatly bookmarked with a slip of paper you recognise to be hotel stationery, the filigree border sticking out from between the pages giving it away.

“C’mere, sweetheart. I wanna kiss you a bit more.”

You kick your heels off, the sparkly shoes you’d spent more money on than you ought to have landing sideways beside his. Your feet sink into the plush carpet below as you pad over to the couch, falling into Jason’s lap with a delighted giggle when he pulls you close. Knees bracketing his hips, your skirt slides up dangerously, but you’re more focused on the slide of his mouth against yours.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Jason breathes into your mouth, and your eyes droop, smiling against him. Big hands settle against the small of your back, and Jason swallows the surprised noise you make when you feel him under you, thick, and hard. “Got me so fuckin’ hard for you, sweetheart. Can you feel that?”

You rock your hips shyly, squirming on his lap, letting out a breath when you feel him bump against your covered clit, pleasure pooling low in your gut.

“Mmh..there you go,” Jason whispers, guiding you along his lap. You whine into his mouth, eyes shutting at the slide of his tongue against yours. It’s slow, and a little messy, the way he kisses you, spit slicked lips sliding against yours, hands rocking you back and forth. 

You have no idea what the time is, your phone lying abandoned in the depths of your purse, forgotten in the entryway next to your shoes. Orange light burns through the back of your eyelids, and fatigue renders your limbs heavy against Jason – it’s been a long day and an even longer night, but you aren’t quite ready to give it up yet, too drunk on this new experience to call an end to it.

An open window nearby lets in a stream of air, cool against your flushed skin and some way down the road, a car beeps on the motorway. Jason, beneath you, rolls his hips up into your aching centre and you mewl. He laughs as you break away, panting, lips shiny with spit. You go dizzy at the sight.

“So fuckin’ noisy,” he laughs, leaning back against the couch. He looks sinful, head tipped back to expose his throat, thick thighs spread and hands on your hips. Like he’s at your mercy. Power ripples beneath your fingertips as you touch his neck, skimming over his Adam's apple. Almost as if in a trance, you lower your head to bite at the skin, tongue laving at the mark and relishing in the groan he lets out.

“You sure-” he gasps when you do it once more. “Y’sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Mhm,” you hum, sucking a mark below his ear. You pull away, breath hitching at the sight of the bruise blooming there. His eyes are already on you when you meet his gaze, half-lidded and hungry.

“‘M so fucking lucky, aren’t I?” he rasps, resting a hand on the back of your neck and bringing you down to him. “Nobody else gets you like this, do they.”

You shake your head in affirmation and he grins, a little pleased. And then, his gaze is drifting down to the neck of your dress.

It’s a pretty thing, the both of you know it, daringly lowcut – more than you would have ever braved to wear back home. But here, you are something else entirely, a flower in bloom. There is no one to tell you no, to heed caution. No nosy eyes – the only gazes on you now are heavy with something else. You see the same heaviness in Jason’s eyes as he drinks in the red swathing your figure.

You’d seen it in the store and known – this was it. This would be the one. Every stitch and fold of it had been made in your image, you’d known it from the moment you laid your eyes on it, only confirmed by the reflection in the dressing room mirror.

“Baby,” Jason says suddenly, voice sounding shot, eyes turning pleading and hands trailing back down to fist at your dress. “Can I take this off?”

You find yourself nodding fervently, so eager that any pretense of playing coy slips right out of your head as you lean up and forward, closing your eyes as his fingers pull the zip at your side and pull the material up your figure. It’s unbearably slow, and the drag of the fabric up your skin leaves goosebumps in its trail, your heart hammering in your chest as inch by inch, you are bared to his eyes. When the skirt gathers at your waist, only just covering your panties, Jason groans, eyes tracing your thighs hungrily. He pauses a moment, and you tremble atop him. It’s only a moment – he resumes his path.

Everything is still, and quiet around the both of you. Only your shared breathing, heavy – and, you imagine, wrapping around the other, invisible. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, and you curl your fingers into fists where they rest on your thighs.

“Up, baby,” Jason murmurs, and you raise your arms, shuddering as the dress is lifted totally. It hits the ground behind you with a quiet flutter, and you’re left atop Jason’s lap in only the pretty panties you’d slipped on before dinner. 

Before dinner, when you’d flounced around your hotel room, running back and forth across the wardrobe and your suitcase and your vanity, silk robe slipping down your shoulders, giggling with your best friend. You’d slipped on the scrap of material after your shower, shrieking when she’d voiced the thought you’d quietly entertained – who exactly are you putting those on for?

Their intended subject breathes out a sigh when his eyes land on them, a groan caught in his throat. The hardness pressed against your thigh is an attestation to just how much he likes it.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” Jason tips forward to press his forehead to your shoulder, and your breath hitches when the movement causes his nose to brush against your bare skin, lips so close to your breast you can feel his breath. “Been wanting to do that from the moment you showed up at my door.”

“Yeah?” you breathe out shyly, face warming. His resounding “Mhm.” vibrates against your shoulder. 

“Y’showed up looking like sin, princess,” he mumbles, a sloppy kiss pressed to your skin. And then another, and another. He moves slowly, with precision, and you’re burning for him. “Thought about just locking the door and ripping that damn dress off you – ‘m surprised you didn’t notice how hard I got.”

Your eyes flicker down but his broad shoulders obscure your view, curling over you, leaving wet kisses over every bit of skin he can reach. 

“Mmh, baby y’gotta talk to me,” Jason sighs, pulling away and you almost keen at the loss, chasing after him when he sinks back into the couch cushions, hands steadying you as you tip forward. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” you whisper, nose to nose. 

Up close, he is even more beautiful, golden and freckled from the summer sun. His eyelashes are thick, fluttering with every blink. He watches you, and you are reminded of a big cat, lazy eyes fixed on its prey, slow, smouldering blinks as he stares at you.

“You want me to take care of you?” he breathes out, and you nod. He shakes his head. “Gotta hear you say it out loud, sweetheart. You can do that for me can’t you?”

His voice drops into a coo, encouraging in all the ways to make your head dizzy, every thought turning syrupy thick when he bumps his nose against yours, coaxing.

“Say it for me, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth, capturing your bottom lip between his. You feel the barest drag of his teeth and you whimper – he catches that too. “Aw, c’mon pretty. I’ve barely done anything, yet. There’ll be time for that later. Y’just gotta tell me.”

“Jason, I-” you gasp out, when he rocks his hips up into you. “Please? Please…”

“Please what?” 

If they could only see you now. Shame and desire race through your veins, circling each other in a vicious stand-off. Will you give in? Will you see it through? You’ve come this far. Ruination is only a murmur away.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, and his eyes gleam.

Jason hauls you up from the couch in one swift movement that leaves you grappling for his shoulders, but his hold is firm – you’re in no danger of falling, unless he intends it. Mouth on yours, he crosses the living space and you enter the bedroom, the mammoth of a bed coming closer into view. You only register it in your periphery, much too preoccupied with the brush of Jason’s tongue against yours, yet another new, dizzying sensation that clouds your senses.

And then you’re falling back, landing amongst the sheets of his bed. Jason hovers above you – still clothed. You quirk a brow expectantly at him and he pauses. He follows your gaze, and snickers when he realises.

“I guess I’m being pretty unfair, huh,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. “I’ve got you all pretty and bare for me and I’m still dressed. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Jason is, impossibly, even more attractive under his clothes. He shucks the jacket and top, and your throat dries at the sight of him, all soft muscle and broadness. Every inch of him has been carved with a careful hand, and you drag your gaze downwards as he tugs his sweats off, left in only a pair of black boxer briefs. Powerful thighs flex as he steps out of his clothing, and you have to bite back the urge to learn forward and press your mouth to him, to sink your teeth into the muscle of his chest.

“Hope that’s a good silence,” he remarks, kicking his sweats away and you snap your eyes back up to him, a nervous laugh bubbling from your lips.

“It is,” you assure. Bravely, you reach out to take his hand, and his eyes soften a little when you do. “You’re…no one should look like that.”

Pink dusts the top of his cheeks and he laughs. “I’m glad you think so.” He shakes his head then, and draws closer. “Tonight’s about you, though, princess. Can you lay back for me?”

“Like this?” you ask, unsure, settling yourself against his pillows, legs bent together. He smiles, kneeling at the foot of the bed. 

“Not quite,” he says, a warm hand coming to cup your calf. “This okay? If you wanna stop, just let me know. Pinch me, or something. Promise I’ll stop.”

You nod, and nod once more, and he drops a kiss to the inside of your knee as he maneuvers your legs so they’re spread, allowing him to draw closer. All that stands between his gaze and your most sensitive parts is a scrap of fabric, and you see his eyelids droop as he settles on his stomach, breath skimming your inner thigh. 

“You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” he asks, tilting his head, expectant. His voice is gentle, coaxing, and you find yourself nodding, eager to please him. He smiles, and it’s like starlight, reddened mouth curving up to reveal pearly whites.

“Yeah,” he sighs, pleased. Fingers trail up your legs, pushing them further apart with a firmness that is equally as gentle.  “Knew you would. My girl knows how to listen t’me. So sweet for me. ‘M gonna kiss you now, ‘kay, sweetheart?”

You’re tipping your chin and then your panties are being hooked to the side and there’s a mouth on you, warm, and wet, tongue curling against your clit in a movement that draws a gasp right out of you, squirming against the sheets, both chasing and drawing away from the unfamiliar sensation. Jason laughs at the sound, only pressing closer to you with an arm hooking across your hips to keep you still.

Your vision swims, and you press your head back into the pillows, the canopy above you blurring under every artful lash and lick of Jason’s tongue. Your hands fist the sheets when he closes his lips around your clit, sucking gently – desire burns in your gut and explodes behind your eyes with his movements, your hips lurching off the mattress only to meet the steel resistance of his arm. 

“Jason,” you cry, only growing warmer when he snakes his free hand up your torso to pinch your nipple, squeezing your breasts as he works his mouth.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just-” he cuts himself off, spitting onto your folds – only adding to the mess you’re sure you’ve made. You shudder and he laughs against your skin. “Mmh, just like that, just like that…”

Your hand finds its way into his hair, fingers sinking into thick black locks and tugging before you can register the impulse. You draw away, a babbled apology on your tongue but he only catches your wrist as it raises and pushes it back with a husky laugh.

“Touch me all you want,” he says, kissing your thigh. “Want you to feel good, angel.” 

“It does,” you pant, too caught up to find any embarrassment in the needy pitch of your voice, too eager to get his mouth back on you. He grins, knowingly, and raises his hand, reaching to press his fingers against your lips.

“Get my fingers wet f’me, baby,” he says. 

It feels debauched, the way you let him part your lips and sink his fingers in your mouth, pressing heavy on your tongue. Drool collects, and you flick your tongue against his thick digits, sucking. His eyes shutter, and you find yourself pleased to have turned the tables, even if only momentarily. He retracts his fingers soon, and you follow the string of spit with your eyes, flinching when it snaps, smearing against your chin. 

“That’s my girl,” he exhales. “‘M gonna stretch you out, okay? Tell me if it’s too much.”

“Okay,” you murmur, resting a hand across the arm on your hips. He pushes himself up onto his haunches, and then there’s a finger pressing at your entrance. It’s a foreign feeling – Jason’s fingers are much thicker than your own, and you tense up at the intrusion, but he notices.

“Take a breath for me,” he tells you firmly, other hand stroking your skin comfortingly. “It’ll be more uncomfortable if you’re tense like that. There you go, take another for me, good girl.”

He leans up to kiss you, and you clutch his shoulders tightly when his thumb circles your clit in gentle circles, finger steadily pressing into you. You breathe through it, feeling small under his frame, but grateful for the cover. Jason whispers praise into your skin as you take him slowly, and you tip your head back as slowly, your body adjusts to the stretch. 

“So good for me,” he tells you, and your eyes burn, tears crowding your lashline at the rush of emotions – it’s so much, all at once. You can’t quite make sense of things anymore, entirely consumed by the feeling of him, over, around, inside. 

And still, when he deems you properly prepped, you feel you’ve entered an entirely new ballpark when he slides your panties off and removes his underwear, cock springing up and slapping against his stomach. 

It isn’t as though you’ve never seen one before. The internet, and sex ed classes had at least given you some idea about what to expect, but –

Jason is big. Even inexperienced, you know this. Your mouth dries the longer you stare at it, so thick you wonder how he’s going to fit it inside you – can he? Trepidation settles in your lower gut, but with it, something else. You sit up on shaky arms, and curiosity spurs you on to reach for him, tucking your legs beneath you as you shuffle closer. 

He lets you touch him, teal eyes watching in silence as your hand brushes along his hip, dipping down to press against his thigh. Skirting around where you really want to touch. When he exhales above you, you look up to find him softly smiling, amusement in the curve of his mouth.

“I don’t bite,” he says softly, fingers coming to wrap around your wrist gently, guiding your touch to his cock. The both of you shudder when you make contact, wrapping around his length experimentally. The weight of him in your hands makes your heart thrum, and you don’t realise you’ve drawn closer until he’s pulling you away just as your lips hover over the head of him.

You look up questioningly, and he gives you a reassuring grin, caressing your cheek. “Later, sweetheart. I wanna make you feel good.”

“Promise?” you murmur and he nods, looping his pinky around yours. 

And then you’re being pressed back down into the sheets, a mouth on yours and Jason’s tongue licking at the seam of your lips. And you know you ought to be a little more responsible, when he presses on your bare heat, precum smearing at your entrance, but there’s a rush in the thought of having him wholly – of letting go of responsibility for just one night. 

You’ve been good all your life, you figure you’re allowed one moment of recklessness. 

He’s prepped you well, but the first press of his head inside still makes you gasp, stomach tightening as he enters you. He swallows the sound in his mouth, humming assuringly against your lips.

“Mmh, you’re doin’ so good for me,” he mumbles, sloppily kissing your jaw, and you throw your arms around his neck, tucking your face into his shoulder. “Breathe, breathe, princess.”

Inch by inch, he pushes until you’ve taken the entire length of him, settling there for you to adjust. You can feel it in your throat, every bit of skin and heat making your blood simmer, your eyes rolling slightly at the stretch. 

“You okay?”

Jason brushes a few fingers across the back of your neck, and the touch is grounding, drawing your attention back to him. You nod, and he lets out a little laugh.

“So sweet for me,” he mutters, dropping a kiss to your head. You exhale against his collar, returning it to the spot above his heart, lips smudging against his chest and leaving a streak of colour where your lipstick rubs off. You grin privately, repeating the motion. The hand at your hip squeezes affectionately, and he speaks again. “Gonna start moving now, okay?” 

“Mhm.” It’s a needy sound – not the first one he’s pulled out of you tonight, and when he rolls his hips, thumb catching at your clit, you wager it won’t be the last.

You lose all ability to think within minutes. Jason is attentive, and every touch lights you on fire, leaves you feeling scraped raw, every nerve sensitive to him. Everything feels amplified as he thrusts, making ample of use of his mouth and fingers in time with his movements. You’re clutching him, clutching the sheets, legs shaking around his waist. 

The hotel room is filled with the sounds of your pleasure, Jason drawing moan after moan, whimpers and desperate moans from your lips – absently, you wonder, is that you, making all that noise? It seems utterly discomposed, something too filthy for the otherwise pristine room you’re in. But Jason is uncaring and if anything, it only spurs him on, gripping you tighter.

“Fuck,” he hisses, biting at your shoulder and you whine, nails biting into the meat of his shoulder. “That’s it, princess, you sound so fucking pretty.”

Sweat gathers in the dip of your brow, lines your skin and his as his hips cant into yours. His head dips down to catch a nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing the your sensitive bud. You choke on a gasp, throwing your head back into the pillows. He grins, letting go with a wet pop.

“Jason.” you sob out and he coos.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he says, leaning down so you’re nose to nose. You gaze at him through half-lidded eyes, unable to keep them open. “‘M I making you feel good? This what you expected?”

“F-feels so good,” you cry, the tears that have been gathering finally slipping free, streaking down your face as he rocks into you. His teeth gleam in the low light, victory in the stretch of his lips – the light haloes around him and he looks divine, bronzed and eclipsing your entire body with his. 

He thrusts faster, a little harder, and you clutch his arm suddenly, feeling the pleasure rising in to a crescendo in your stomach. His name falls off your lips, coloured in desperation and tears, and you buck your hips up in an effort to match his.

“You close, sweetheart?” he pants and you keen.

“Uh-huh,” you mewl, voice pitching as you draw him down into a messy kiss, a meeting of teeth and tongue that leaves you dizzy. 

“Fuck, princess, that’s it,” he groans, a hand coming around your lower back to lift you closer. The other circles your clit faster, and you cry out. “That’s it, come for me. Just let go for me, I know you can do it. You’re such a good girl, been so good for me, you deserve to come, don’t you? C’mon sweetheart, just like that.”

You break with a squeal, coming apart around his cock. It’s intense, the wave that crashes over you and swims through your body, reaching every nerve ending and muscle. And he doesn’t stop, fucking you through it with steady thrusts that don’t relent. You’re pushing at his stomach, fingers desperately clawing at him. It’s dizzying, and you clench down harder, drawing a groan from him.

“Shit, baby,” he gasps, forehead dropping to yours. “Sweetest fucking pussy, ‘m so fucking close.”

You can only tilt your head up to capture his mouth, biting down on his bottom lip. He pulls away swearing, sweat lining his brow. 

“Gonna come,” he chokes out, forehead creasing as his eyes squeeze shut. You squeeze down around him once again, and he moans.

“Come for me,” you breathe out, and he shakes his head, looking pained. His lips turn down into a pout, and though you’ve little energy in your body, you want nothing more than to sink your teeth into it. You fear that by doing this, he’s woken something in you now – there is no coming back from the monster he’s made of you, the insatiable hunger he’s called on. 

“Don’t say that, baby,” he barely manages to grit out. “I can’t, I-” 

He pulls himself out suddenly, fisting his cock over your body. You realise just how close he was when in a few quick strokes, he comes over your stomach, shooting onto your skin with a strangled noise.

“Fuck!”

Silence falls over the room, save for your heavy breaths. You sink back into the pillows, spent and Jason lowers himself beside you, reaching out to pull you close. You tuck yourself into his side, and the muffled sound of his heartbeat reaches you from beneath your cheek. 

“How you feeling, sweetheart?” A hand settles on the dip of your back, thumb skimming across the expanse sweetly. “Talk t’me.”

“Good,” you slur out, eyes slipping closed. Your own pulse steadily throbs in your ears and you can feel the fatigue settling in your muscles, sapped of your strength. “So tired.”

“Yeah?” he questions, affection colouring his voice. You hum, nosing at him as though you could burrow closer. 

“Rest a bit. I’ll get up in a moment, run you a bath,” he promises you, voice rough. “Gotta get you cleaned up.” 

“You’ll come with?” you ask quietly, and he sighs, amused. He rubs your back. 

“Yeah, princess, I’ll come with.”

With that, you close your eyes, letting the sounds of the city bleed in through the window. Jason’s heart beats steadily beneath you, fingers tracing up your bare spine, and you succumb to sleep. 

everybody say thank you ro you're the best ro you wrote the best first proper smut fic ever ro. jk but this was so hard to get through i would like to thank miss lana del rey herself, my smut writing playlist and the guide to writing smut by @/mevima because they were my lifelines. and also my bestest friend in the world for reading over this for me despite not knowing a single thing about dc beyond the barest minimum she is my angel and guiding star everybody give her a round of applause.

i considered quitting kinktober so many times writing this you have no idea. tell your favourite smut authors you love them because genuinely...after kinktober i'm going back to fluff /lh. also please don't expect this length for every kinktober piece hahaha this fic is just it's own creation and would not let me write anything less than 5k. we'll be returning to our regular programming soon.

[lilacmingi]

NOT SO BAD

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. Ageless blogs and blank blogs risk getting blocked

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x human!fem reader

Word count: 2,825

Note: This imagine is from my Wattpad so there won’t be any extra parts or continuations

Streetlights lined the damp roadway and sidewalk, casting hazy beams onto the pavement below. It was around 11:30 PM and you were heading home after a night out with friends as a way to wind down after a long week. You spent the late evening at a 24 hour karaoke bar where you sang (terribly) to all of your favorite songs and shared a few drinks with your small group of three; laughing and carrying on until your throats were raw from belting out lyrics for hours on end.

You reminisced on the new memories as you headed home for the evening, hoping to go out for karaoke again sometime soon. It was an ideal way to let loose have a good time.

Judging by the familiar buildings, you were nearing your apartment building, wanting nothing more than to shower and swap your fashionable, but mildly uncomfortable, attire for some loose pajamas.

A faint noise that sounded like a whimper reached your ears just as you were approaching a small alleyway. The noise was alarming and had sirens going off in your head. Someone was clearly in distress and with you being the only person walking the streets at this hour, you felt you should help.

You reached for your pepper spray, which you always carried with you, and cautiously approached the space between two buildings, peering around to corner to assess the situation before making any rash decisions.

A man with long, dark hair had a woman caged against the brick wall of one of the structures. It very much appeared that he was forcing himself on her.

Clutching your pepper spray in your hand and making sure your phone was in your back pocket, you stepped out into the opening of the alley.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

"Get away from her!" is what you wanted to say next, but your voice was stuck in your throat.

The man turned towards you, his appearance making every limb in your body go completely numb with fear. Blood dripped from his mouth, dribbling down his chin. The woman's neck was covered in the dark ruby liquid, her body limp in the man's arms.

You could only watch as she dropped to the ground unconscious, staring at her motionless form, horrified.

When your gaze met that of the man before you, you knew you were in danger. He smirked, showing off a set of sharp fangs as he licked away some of the blood smeared on and around his mouth. His irises were the same deep crimson hue as the bodily fluid that coated his lips, his sharp gaze feeling as if it was burning a hole in you.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing walking around alone so late at night?" He inquired, striding towards you.

You couldn't speak. The paralyzing fear coursing through your body had rendered you speechless.

"There's some dangerous people lurking this time of night. Don't you know?"

"D-Don't get any closer." You backed away, clutching the small can of pepper spray in your trembling hand.

He was standing directly in front of you in an instant, appearing at the speed of light. In the blink of an eye, he had you pinned against the brick wall just like the unconscious woman was moments earlier. You were now in her position. With your wrists bound by his hands, you were rendered immobile and completely helpless. The man's gaze trailed to the can clutched in your hand.

"That's real cute." He chuckled. "You think that little can of pepper spray is going to save you?"

His grip on your wrists tightened, causing you to drop your only means of defense to the concrete.

"You interrupted my meal, sweetheart." He uttered, his voice low and threatening.

He inhaled deeply, moving his face closer to your neck where he dragged the tip of his nose along your skin.

"Mmm." He hummed. "You smell much nicer than her. I hope you don't mind if I have a little taste."

"Please no."

"Shh." He placed his finger over your lips, silencing you.

You flinched at the feeling of his sharp fangs grazing your neck, yelping when his teeth pierced your skin. Tears welled up in your eyes from both the overwhelming pain and the fear that you were about to be killed.

The sound of him gulping down your blood was all you could hear, wondering how long it would take for him to stop.

His hands dropped to your waist, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall. He groaned against your neck, savoring the taste of you while he held on tighter, the blunt tips of his nails digging into your waist. At that point, you could feel yourself slipping away quickly. He was taking too much too fast and your body was becoming weak.

With your wrists no longer being pinned down, you tried to push the vampire off of you, but it was no use. Your head was starting to spin and your vision was gradually becoming blurrier. At this rate, you would pass out soon.

"S-stop." You whispered weakly, your tingling hands still trying to force him away.

After fighting to keep your heavy eyelids open, you admitted deafeat, giving in and letting unconsciousness take over. Just as your eyes closed, you felt the man retract his fangs, your body going limp in his arms.

The last thing you heard before passing out was a low curse from the man.

Whatever dream you were having slowly faded out as you came to consciousness, your body gradually beginning to wake up. Light hit your eyelids and the faint sounds of the outside reached your ears. You hummed softly, rolling over onto your side and tugging the sheets up higher over your shoulders.

Wait.

You didn't remember coming home, let alone going to bed. You opened your eyes and abruptly shot up into a sitting position. A sharp sting surged through your neck causing you to hiss in response, clenching your teeth together. Instinctively reaching up to where the burning was, you felt a piece of gauze taped to your neck.

Oh no.

You took in your surroundings, realizing fairly quickly that you weren't in your apartment. In fact, you didn't recognize the room.

Whose house were you in?

A distant, male voice coming from somewhere in the house reached your ears. He was shouting curse words and, judging by the sounds of objects hitting the floor, he was throwing things too.

Your heart began to race, recalling the voice from the night before.

Swinging your legs off the side of the bed, you started to get up only for your knees to buckle. You were quick to catch yourself on the frame of the bed and pull yourself back onto the mattress. It was clear that you were far too weak to get out of there. Your eyes drifted over to the window, wondering how high up it was and if you might be able to drag yourself over to it.

Before you could try and come up with a solid escape plan, the door opened.

"You're awake." The man sounded relieved.

"Get away from me!" You demanded, trying to sound stern even though you were scooting back against the headboard to get away.

"Are you okay? Do you feel alright?"

"Don't come near me, you monster! You nearly killed me!"

His eyes widened and he stepped back as if your words physically hit him.

"Yeah." He chuckled dryly. "I am a monster."

For some reason you felt bad for calling him that. He was obviously the one who brought you back to his place, he bandaged the bite on your neck, and he came to check on you as soon as you woke up.

"Sorry." You murmured, glancing down at your hands that rested in your lap. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you're right."

You lifted your gaze. The man looked visibly distraught, shame and guilt painting his features.

"I almost killed you. I don't know what got into me last night. I never let my thirst get out of control. I already wasn't in my right mind and when you walked up, I got one whiff of your scent and it drove me to the edge. I went into a blind frenzy. I wasn't aware of what I was doing until it was almost too late. I know an apology doesn't fix it, but I'm so sorry."

"What happened to the girl?" You questioned after a brief moment of silence, hoping you wouldn't regret asking.

"She's okay. I healed her wound and wiped her memory. She won't remember anything that happened."

"But you didn't wipe my memory?"

He hesitated. "No."

"Why?"

"I don't really know. I saw your face and..." He trailed off, unable to really put it into words. "It was just something about you that made me decide not to erase your memory."

You must've had a perplexed expression because he turned away muttering, "I don't know. It's dumb."

"What's your name?" You asked him in an attempt to change the subject since he was obviously uncomfortable.

"Yoongi."

"I'm Y/n."

"Good to know." He smiled a little. "I'll go get you some water."

Your eyes followed him as he walked out of the room.

Well, he wasn't trying to kill you, so that was good. Maybe he really wasn't a bad guy.

He returned to the room almost as quickly as he left, handing you a glass of water. You thanked him and took a sip, the cool liquid soothing your dry mouth and throat.

"You never answered me earlier. Are you okay?" Yoongi asked.

"I'm still pretty weak, but I guess I'm alright. I tried getting up, but my knees gave out."

Yoongi lowered his head. "I'm sorry."

You pressed your lips together and fiddled with the sheets.

"How is your neck?" He gestured to the gauze.

"Sore."

"Do you mind if I check it?"

He could see you were hesitant to accept. He didn't blame you for feeling that way.

"I won't hurt you. I promise."

After a moment of hesitation, you nodded.

He took a seat on the edge of the bed and brushed your hair back to assess the damage. You suppressed a shiver at his actions. Careful not to be too rough, he started to remove the medical tape that held the gauze in place. You winced a little, the skin still tender.

"It's pretty bad. I can heal it for you if you want."

"How?"

"Vampire saliva is pretty powerful."

Saliva?

"Do you want your neck to stop hurting?" Yoongi asked when you sat for too long without responding.

"Yes."

"Okay. Stay still."

He leaned in, the warm sensation of his tongue gliding up the side of your neck following seconds later. Heat spread across your cheeks at how intimate the situation seemed. A tingling sensation was felt on the wounded area just before Yoongi pulled away.

"There. All better."

You reached up and gingerly touched the place where the bite mark was, but you didn't feel it nor did it hurt anymore. You skin was completely smooth and free of any puncture marks.

"Thank you."

"It's the least I could do."

"Why didn't you do that while I was unconscious?" You asked out of curiosity.

"I still wasn't fully in my right mind when I brought you back here to patch you up. The wound was still fresh and I was afraid if I tried to heal you, I'd end up killing you instead. I didn't want to risk it."

"Ah." You nodded.

He stayed put on the edge of the bed while picking at his nails, hesitant to leave.

"You may have to stay another day. You know, so I can keep an eye on you and make sure you're alright."

"I think I'll be okay with that."

"You will?"

You gave a nod.

"Are you hungry?" He asked. "Do you need anything?"

"Now that you mention it, I am a little hungry."

"I'll get you whatever you're in the mood for. I'm not much of a cook, but if it's something that can be made at home, I'll try to make it."

"You don't need to do all that."

"Please." There was a hint of desperation in his tone. "It's the least I can do after what I did to you last night."

"You brought me back here, bandaged my wound, healed it, and you've apologized twice. You've done plenty."

He shook his head. "I won't feel better about this until you feel better."

"I didn't know vampires cared so much for their victims." You teased.

Yoongi chortled softly. "We're selective."

You cracked a smile, releasing a short laugh.

Yoongi's undead heart fluttered at how pretty you were when you smiled. He much preferred the happy and relaxed you as opposed to the one that was terrified of him. He was glad to no longer see that fear in your eyes.

"Oh." He realized you hadn't told him what you'd like to eat. If you were going to get your strength built back up, you needed nourishment. "What do you want to eat? Like I said, I'll do whatever. I'll attempt to cook it or I'll go pick it up."

You thought about it for a moment before giving Yoongi a response. The food you were craving needed to be picked up, but he didn't mind. In fact, he hurried off to go retrieve your meal almost as soon as you gave him an answer.

His eagerness was amusing. Vampires in stories and movies were always depicted as heartless creatures who had no remorse for the victims they killed. Yoongi wasn't like that. Guilt was written all over his face for the first few minutes he was in the room with you, and even when the atmosphere was less tense, he was still doing his best to make sure you were taken care of. He was so ready to make up for what he did last night that you were almost certain this wasn't a normal occurrence.

Yoongi returned home less than fifteen minutes after rushing out, your bag of food clutched in his hand.

Your face lit up when he walked into the bedroom and presented you with the bag. You gratefully took it, thanking him for going out to get it to which he merely shrugged.

"I'll let you eat your meal in peace." He turned to leave, walking towards the door.

"Wait."

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder.

"I wouldn't mind the company."

Yoongi was surprised by the offer you extended. Though you didn't outrightly state that you wanted him to stay, it was very much implied.

He moved to sit at the end of the bed while you pulled your food out.

"So, do you always bring your victims home and take care of them?" You asked, opening up the takeout container.

"No. This is the first time."

"I must be special or something." You chuckled, taking a bite of food.

"You are."

You stopped chewing, glancing over at him.

"I brought you here because I couldn't bear to leave you in the alley. The thought of it made my stomach twist with guilt." He admitted.

"But you left the other girl."

"She was drunk, anyway. Since I wiped her memory she'll just think she blacked out from drinking too much."

Your nail picked at the edge of the styrofoam container, silently processing his words.

"I don't understand. Why did you bring me here? What was so special about me?"

"I... thought you were pretty." The last part was said under his breath, but he was close enough for you to hear.

Before you could respond, he started rambling.

"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sure I've made you uncomfortable and after what happened last night, I'm certain you're not interested. Plus, you don't even know me."

"That can be changed though."

Yoongi met your gaze, his brows pulling together.

"We can start as friends and just get to know each other."

"Friends." He echoed, nodding. "Okay."

"Good. Why don't you start? Tell me a little about yourself."

Yoongi started by telling you some of his hobbies, easing in with a light subject before getting into the heavier stuff like when he was first turned and how difficult it was to navigate his new life. He even let you ask questions, openly answering all of them. In turn, you shared a little bit about your own life.

You still didn't know Yoongi, but what little you had heard about him made you see that he was a decent guy and someone you wanted to continue to get acquainted with.

You'd be staying with Yoongi for at least another day so he could make sure you fully recovered, but who knows? Maybe you'd decide to stay a little longer.

Jungkook ♱ Jimin ♱ Taehyung ♱ Namjoon ♱ Hoseok ♱ Jin

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny @iammeandmeisiam @delulu18 @hyunjin-amore

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hello I am a big fan of your work But I have a request (if request are even open then u can ignore it) how would the HLC characters react to MC being able to transform into a Hungarian Horntail dragon? (Btw have a great day or night and drink water please)

A/N: Blog rules and request updates are put on the pinned post at the top of the blog! If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a DM :3

HLC REACT TO MC TURNING INTO A HUNGARIAN HORNTAIL

MC still doesn't know the limits of ancient magic, but apparently, it includes being able to transform oneself into a powerful magical beast of their choice for a time. Today, the beast of choice was the ferocious Hungarian Horntail dragon. Admittedly, MC was just showing off.

They show their closest friends and mentor the full transformation and even a fireblast demonstration. Then they sit pretty to soak in the praise. They know they look cool.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: His jaw was already on the ground when MC transformed, but it somehow got lower when he witnessed the 40ft jet of fire rise from MC's maw. Such POWER. He wants to see MC decimate a dark wizard outpost. Set fire to EVERYTHING!

OMINIS GAUNT: He can feel the rumble of the earth beneath him with every step MC takes. The heat of the flames makes him turn away. Just the low rumble from MC's throat sends shivers down his spine. This is the closest he EVER wants to get to the real thing. Even though he knows it's MC, it's a scary experience.

ANNE SALLOW: She's more collected than her brother, but still as excited over MC's ability to burn everything in their path. Just thinking about what MC could do with a single breath makes her giddy. She's as much a firebug as Sebastian, she's just better at keeping her head.

IMELDA REYES: She is a simple woman with simple interests. See dragon, must race. Fly MC! Show her what you're really made of! Bet she could fly circles around them. Bet they can catch her? Prove it!

NATSAI ONAI: She'll beat Poppy to the punch about asking for rides. The spines make it challenging but she'll figure something out. She grabs MC by the nostrils and gets in their face. "Let me ride you! ...wait, that sounded-... You know what I mean!"

GARRETH WEASLEY: He NEEDS to hear them roar. Dragons are so strong that they don't even need to use fire. A roar from a fully grown dragon at close range can shatter eardrums. You feel the shockwave of sound go through your body. His ears ring for a bit even though he covered them.

LEANDER PREWETT: He's feeling so inadequate as a wizard. He can barely balance on a broom right and MC can transfigure themself into a mother loving DRAGON. No fair...

AMIT THAKKAR: He's dying to know how this works. This is magic that's either never been seen or never recorded, because he's never even heard of anyone capable of this without being some sort of rare animagus. MC needs to be studied, and he's the one to do it. Next to the stars themselves, MC is the universe's greatest mystery.

EVERETT CLOPTON: Dragons scare the ever living shit out of him. They're big, powerful and sometimes go after broom flyers when hungry. Hell admire MC from a distance. Like, way back behind the stoney hill, distant. Please don't come closer, he will cry.

POPPY SWEETING: She's absolutely ECSTATIC! She can examine a powerful dragon up close that isn't trying to eat her. It's a dream come true! She does circles around MC, taking in every detail. She takes out a small, leather bound book and a piece of charcoal and sketches every part MC lets her study. When MC puts their snoot right up against her, she actually squeals a little with excitement. She gets to TOUCH a live dragon. She's on cloud nine and never wants to come down.

ELEAZAR FIG: When MC tells him this is something they could do thanks to ancient magic, the only thing he can think is: "Miriam would have loved to see this." He's so proud. MC is capable of way more than he ever thought. He only hopes to live long enough to witness the rest of the wizarding world realize the same.

[laura1633]

Omega charles will ditch that mv duvet cover immediately if he could find the way to get the real one into his life because the actual max seems to be a good material for nesting by himself. I mean charles could just sit on his lap and let max hold him. It's way far more comfortable than any nest he has built for his entire life 🥰

(Just combine two latest tropes in your blog together teehee)

Oh Max would be the absolute best nesting material of all, you are completely right 🥰

Here's a quick little headcanon of Omega Charles finding comfort by sitting on Alpha Max's lap.

TW: Charles is a little stressed after a persistent alpha approached him in a bar (only referenced briefly)

Once back in Charles’ hotel room the omega clambers up into Max’s lap, not quite ready to let him go yet. He curls himself tight and presses their bodies together at as many points as possible.   Max smells of the forest, lots of earth and pine, refreshing and familiar in a way that calms Charles to the point of contentment. The omega chances his luck a little further by running his nose right across the alpha’s scenting gland, the sudden rush of aroma makes him purr.  Charles knows he probably should have asked first but Max is being nothing but receptive, the alpha’s arms slink around Charles’ waist so he can hug him closer. There’s a softness to the touch, soothing in a way that Charles needs so much right now. He leans back in and inhales the alpha’s scent once more and smiles lazily as it fill this lungs. He is still dizzy off the scent when he meets Max’s eyes and blushes.  “It’s okay” Max dips down and kisses the tip of Charles’ nose, “You can take whatever you need from me”  After the night Charles has had he is close to sobbing at the tenderness. Deep down he's always thought of Max as his safe space. "You're safe now Charles. I promise" Max's hands stroke up Charles' back as Charles leans in and lets his body weight drop against the alpha’s chest. Charles is used to having alphas chase after him and he can normally handle it himself easily. Tonight was different, a very persistent alpha that didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. Charles is still a little shaky thinking about what could have happened had Max not been there to step in.  Max had let out the most possessive growl Charles has ever heard. So different to the soft adorable alpha that is cooing against Charles’ ear now. That’s the duality Charles has always known to exist in Max, aggressive when required but soft and sweet otherwise. "Do you want me to carry you into your nest?” Max's voice is still nice and steady, his whole demeanour calming.  "Happy here" Charles mumbles as his body continues to melt against Max's. Charles loves the nests he builds but this is infinitely better. Max’s body is broad and soft and strong all at the same time. The alpha is built to snuggle up against, his thighs nice and thick for sitting on, his chest filled out enough for Charles to rest his head against. Max is better than any arrangement of cushions or blankets or any other nesting materials Charles has ever managed to get hold of. There’s a nice warmth coming from the alpha’s body too, plus the steady quiet rumbles make Charles smile with each vibration. Charles settles down, comfortable and warm and surrounded by earthy scents.  Max is infinitely better than any nest Charles has ever created. He just hopes this isn't a one time nesting experience because he’ll never be able to replicate it for himself. He wants Max and only Max from now on. 

[flightlessangelwings]

Us Against the World

Tasm!Peter Parker x gn!reader

Word count- 4.4k

Dialogue prompt- “ hey! why don’t you try picking on someone your own size! “ Action prompt- [ DISTRACT ]: sender causes a distraction to draw the receiver’s attacker/s away from them.

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY), action, protective!Peter, food mention (reader makes salsa), Peter lifts reader, attempted harm to reader, the villain uses gas and chemistry to attack and reader is described as being trapped in a cloud at one point, reader interacts with kids briefly, no use of y/n

Notes- This month’s Year of Protectiveness is in honor of Andrew Garfield's birthday! I can't believe we're in August already! @yearofcreation2023 But this one was alot of fun to write so I hope y'all enjoy it! And I wrote it so that it could be read in the same timeline as Just Kiss Like Real People Do so if you liked that one, here is more with that pair but of course it could be read on its own! I"ll link it in the taglist rb if you want a refersher!

@flightlessangelwings-updatesis my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs!

~

The city lights illuminated the way as Peter swung through the tall buildings of New York. The air was crisp so high up, and it felt refreshing after a long night of being Spider-Man. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but he knew it was late… well after midnight. And even though the villain he was chasing got away… again… all Peter looked forward to was coming home to you.

Peter expected you to be sound asleep in the tiny apartment, so he was surprised when the light from the widow shined like a beacon calling him back. His heart pounded in his chest and he hoped you were alright as he flipped his wrist to shoot a web towards the building and hurled himself into the window. Letting out a heavy breath, Peter ripped off the Spider-Man mask and closed the window behind him.

Just as he was about to call out your name, the sound of the blender filled the space. That combined with the intoxicating aroma of the spices and tomatoes told Peter exactly what you were doing. His stomach growled as he stepped out of the tiny bedroom and into the living space where you were occupied at the kitchen counter. 

He stood in the doorway for a moment and just watched you with a lovestruck expression on his face. Every time he saw you it was like the first time, and even dressed down in a t-shirt and shorts, you looked stunning to him. You were too consumed with putting the last touches on your salsa that you didn’t hear him come in. But, Peter enjoyed the view for the time being and his heart skipped a beat in his chest with the overwhelming emotions he felt towards you.

But, when you let out a startled yelp, Peter quickly jumped into action. 

You had turned around and were surprised when you saw him standing there. So surprised that you almost dropped the blender that held the salsa you had worked so hard on. But Peter was quick, and in a flash he jumped across the room and caught it before it hit the floor and splattered everywhere.

“Peter!” you exclaimed, “You scared the shit out of me! I didn’t hear you come in!”

“Sorry sweetheart,” he mumbled sheepishly as he set the blender on the counter, licking a drop that splashed onto his fingers after, “Wouldn’t want to waste any of your famous salsa,” he laughed softly, “But why are you up? It’s 3 in the morning.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged as you eyed him up and down. Ever since you found out that Peter Parker, your best friend, the person you had been in love with for years, was Spider-Man, it never got old seeing him in the suit. His long, toned arms, muscular body and especially the messy hair took your breath away every time.

“Everything alright?” Peter asked, concern lining his tone as he peeled the top half of the suit off and stepped closer towards you. 

“Fine,” you fidgeted as you felt your skin heat up under his gaze as your eyes dropped down to the floor, “Just thought you’d be hungry when you got back…” your voice sounded distant.

Peter looked at you with a softness and adoration in his eyes as he reached out and cupped your face, gently pulling you to look at him, “You know I know when you’re lying to me, right?” his voice was soft as his thumb brushed your cheek.

You let out a shaky breath as his eyes locked with yours, “I…” you trembled in under his hand, “I was worried…” you admitted.

“Baby,” Peter rested his free hand on your waist, holding you in his special way, “I’m fine, honestly. You know nothing would ever keep me from coming back to you, right?” he exhaled deeply, “I promise,” he took a breath, “You and me, remember?”

Tears filled the corners of your eyes at the sincerity in his voice and the confident look in his face. You knew he had been Spider-Man for a long time now, he had his powers and he knew what he was doing. Yet, you’d never loved anyone as much as you loved Peter, and sometimes you couldn’t help but worry as your mind went to the worst possible scenario. 

“I know,” you breathed. You opened your mouth to say more, but the words were caught in your throat as Peter reeled forward and kissed you deeply. Somehow, you were sure he knew what you were going to say, how much you worried for him. He said it in his kiss. 

“Sweetheart,” Peter mumbled between kisses as he backed you up against the counter, “As much as I love your salsa…” his voice dropped and his eyes darkened, “There’s something else I want right now…”

“Peter!” you couldn’t help but laugh at his insinuation, but you also felt a pulse of need through your body. You clung to his shoulders as your mind swam and your body warmed.

He let out a soft chuckle as his hands roamed up and down your sides, savoring the feeling of you under his touch. As much as it was a comfort to you to feel Peter’s hands on you, to feel his touch, it was just as much a comfort for him to know you were here and safe. Peter’s cock twitched as his hands dipped under the waistband of your shorts and in a flash he yanked them off of you, causing you to yelp in surprise.

But, before you could react to your shorts and underwear suddenly on the floor, you found yourself hoisted up onto the kitchen counter. Giggles erupted between you as Peter nestled himself between your legs… your bare legs. A low groan unlike anything you ever heard rumbled from deep in Peter’s throat as his eyes landed between your legs.

“Fuck…” he breathed heavily in a tone that made you shiver.

“Pete,” you sighed as you watched him drop down to his knees.

Immediately, you buried your hands in his hair as his hands ghosted along your inner thighs. Peter mumbled your name in a praise before he licked his lips and dove into you, causing you to scream loudly.

You saw stars as Peter worked you with his tongue, licking and slurping every sensitive spot with precision. You could tell even in your blissed out state that he was too desperate to tease you and take it slow tonight. Tonight was all about need; it was the need for both of you to know the other was here.

Tugging at his hair, you felt like your body was on fire from the way he worked you with his talented mouth. Every flick of his tongue sent waves of pleasure up your spine, and you were sure you weren’t going to last much longer. You arched your back as parted your legs more to give Peter more access to your body, an invitation that he immediately accepted. 

“Shit… Pete…” you moaned as you felt your body tingle.

Peter grabbed your inner thighs and squeezed hard as he intensified his motions, determined to push you over the edge in bliss. And from the way you screamed his name, he knew you were close.

It only took a few more licks of his tongue, a few more nibbles of his lips, one last nuzzle of his head before you came hard. Your head slammed against the cabinet as you screamed, your legs trembling under his strong grip as you gushed into his mouth. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as bursts of color clouded your vision.

As Peter coaxed you down from you high, you felt his movements slow before he reluctantly broke away from you. A trail of spit connected the two of you until he moved far enough for it to break, but in the corner of his mouth remained a shiny dribble of your release. Peter watched until you opened your eyes to lick it clean with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Delicious,” he chuckled as he rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around you, “But I’m not done with you yet,” he tone dropped as he easily picked you up and spun you around.

“Pete!” you yelped as you wrapped your arms and legs around his strong body. No matter how many times he lifted you up, you never quite got used to his super strength, and it caught you off guard in the most wonderful way every time.

He quickly made his way across the small apartment and gently lowered you down onto the bed, handing you with tender care as he did so. Peter stood for a moment and admired the sight of you, spread out on the bed, naked from the waist down and a look of pure bliss on your face. Hastily, he ripped off his Spider-Man suit so he was bare for you, and the way you eyed him hungrily made his cock stiffen even more.

“Like the view, sweetheart?” he asked with a cocky grin.

“Very much,” you purred as you bit your lip and extended your arms for him. You loved when he got like this.

“I do too,” his tone matched yours as he hovered over you, “But,” Peter grabbed your shirt, “You’re overdressed.”

You burst into laughter at his antics and allowed him to take off your shirt, the only barrier between your bodies. The two of you let out matching gasps at the sight of the other, as if it was the first time all over again. At times, it felt like that for both of you. The wonder, the passion, the desire never got old so matter how many times you slept together.

“I love you,” Peter broke the silence with a breathless voice as he cupped your face.

“I love you too,” you replied in a dreamy tone as you mirrored his action.

In a flash, Peter closed the gap between your bodies with a heated and desperate kiss. He swallowed the moan you let out as you parted your lips for him once more. The taste of yourself on Peter’s tongue was just as intoxicating for you as it was for him, and you bucked your hips against his hardened cock in a wordless plea.

Without breaking away, Peter muffled a moan as he positioned himself between your legs once more, this time with his cock poking at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself into you, past the first ring of muscle and into your warmth to connect your bodies together.

The moan you let out made you break away from the kiss, and your cry of pleasure echoed in the tiny room as Peter entered you inch by slow inch. You heard Peter’s own moans as he felt you engulf him, and he rested his forehead against yours as he slowly bottomed out inside of you.

Together, the two of you laid with Peter on top of you. Heavy breaths filled the room as you stayed with your sweaty foreheads pressed together. You wrapped your arms around him and dug your nails into his shoulders, clinging to him desperately.

“Move,” you pleaded softly.

He groaned your name and compiled without another word. He started slowly at first, rocking in and out of you, savoring the moans and groans you let out every time he was fully sheathed inside you. It wasn’t until you let out a higher pitched cry that Peter picked up his pace; he found what he was looking for.

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” Peter moaned, “Shit…”

The bed creaked as Peter thrust in and out of you faster and faster. As much as he wanted to keep his eyes open, to watch every expression you made when he was inside you, he couldn’t. He knew he would cum too fast if he watched the way your mouth hung open and your body bounced with his every move.

But luckily for him, you also weren’t far behind.

“Fuck!” you screamed as you dug your nails into Peter’s skin, “I’m gonna cum… Peter…”

“Me too baby,” Peter grunted, “Fuck…”

Peter’s thrusts became fast and erratic as he chased his climax as well as your own. He pounded into you with fervor as you screamed and your second climax hit suddenly. Your inner muscles clenched around him as you squeezed him inside and out. That and your beautiful screams were just the final push Peter needed for his own orgasm, and with a loud moan of your name, he came deep inside you. But, he kept going, wanting to savor every second of your shared climaxes together until he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. 

Peter let out a deep exhale as he collapsed down on top of you. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as close as you could. Neither of you wanted to move, content to stay in the other’s embrace, safe and loved. For several long moments, no one spoke, and just the sound of slow, deep breaths filled the room as you felt the other’s heart pound against your bodies.

It was Peter who broke the silence first with your name in a low voice.

“Hmm?” you hummed as you ran your hand through his hair.

“You know I’ll always come back to you, right?” Peter said as he propped himself up on his elbows to look into your eyes.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, “I know,” you cupped his face the same way he did yours earlier, “I trust you… I just worry sometimes,” you admitted.

“I do too,” Peter breathed, “But I’ll always keep you safe, sweetheart.”

The truth was Peter always worried about you too. He was scared that someday someone would find out his superhero alter and use you against him. He was scared that one day you would get hurt because of him. He was scared that one day he might not get back to you in time… But, as much as you trusted him, Peter had to trust you too. Having no one else, it was just the two of you against the world.

“I’m gonna go shower then we can sleep in tomorrow,” Peter broke himself from his thoughts, “How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” you purred as you gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, “A day at home together sounds like just what we both need. But remember, the day after is that science museum day I wanted to go to.”

Peter let out a soft laugh as he tapped your face playfully, “I wouldn’t miss it, baby.”

*

“Looks like we came on a school field trip day,” you commented as you and Peter walked hand in hand into the science museum.

Children filled the space and chattered excitedly among themselves. The two of you followed close behind the class as you lost yourself in the exhibits. At one point, you broke away from Peter so you could play with one of the hands-on displays, and he couldn’t help but chuckle brightly at you as you were just as excited as the kids were.

As Peter watched you, a thought popped into his head: he was ready to marry you. He had never been more in love with you than he was at that moment as you laughed in fascination at the exhibit. He wanted to marry you for some time, but as he stared stupidly at you, Peter knew it was time for him to pop the question.

“Hey Pete…?” your voice broke him from his thoughts.

Peter suddenly found himself face to face with you, and he must have zoned out for a moment because you looked concerned, “Yeah?” he asked as he cleared his throat and tried not to look conspicuous. 

“Everything ok?” you asked as you tilted your head to the side a bit.

Peter just smiled back at you; you had no idea what he had in store for you, “Perfect,” he slid his hand in yours again, “Shall we check out that chemistry demonstration?” his tone was light, “You look like you’re having more fun than the kids are,” Peter joked.

“Shut up,” you giggled as you playfully nudged him.

Peter imagined that your hand would feel like with a ring on your finger as he fiddled with your knuckles. Yes, it was time, and everything was perfect. But, just as it felt like nothing could bring down his mood, a chill ran up Peter’s spine and he was suddenly filled with a sense of dread the moment the two of you crossed the threshold into the other room where the chemistry table was set up.

He stopped dead in his tracks as his heart sank and the hairs on his neck and arms stood up. The man behind the table was instantly recognizable to him; he was the one that kept slipping out of his grasp. And the feeling of dread was only made worse when the chemist looked up from his table and made direct eye contact with him.

It was like he knew.

“Peter?” you sounded even more worried than before as you tugged his arm.

Without a word, Peter dragged you out of the room and down the hallway towards the bathrooms. His heart pounded in his chest as his first thought was of keeping you safe and getting you out of harm’s way.

“Peter?!” you repeated more forcefully, “What’s going on?”

“Listen to me,” Peter grabbed your shoulders and spun you to look him in the eyes, “That guy… He’s…” he let out an exasperated sigh, “He’s the guy I haven’t been able to catch,” he finished in a hushed tone.

You gasped as your eyes went wide.

“I think he knows who I am too. Something just feels off,” Peter sounded more scared than you’d ever heard him before, “But I want you to get out of here, I’m going to stop him here and now.”

“What about those kids?” you asked as your breath came out fast and ragged, “We have to get everyone else out too,” you inhaled deeply, “Let me help you, Pete.”

His lips tightened as he paused for a moment before he spoke with a heavy exhale, “I’m going to create a distraction, and you help them out,” Peter’s grip on your shoulders tightend, “But you promise me you’ll get yourself out of here.”

You nodded, swallowing your fear, “What kind of distraction were you thinking?”

At the same time, both your heads turned and both your eyes landed on the fire alarm that stood out on the wall. You looked back at Peter and he nodded at you, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

“I love you.” Peter’s words sounded more like an assurance than a confession.

You knew what he meant too: Stay safe.

In a flash, Peter pulled the fire alarm before he rushed around the corner to rip his shirt off, revealing the spider suit underneath. At the same time, you ran towards the children, who you headed screaming and panicking before you even reached the room.

“Quickly!” you shouted, “Outside! Now!”

The kids scrambled as they rushed towards the door and you ushered them out. But, as you did that, a movement from the front of the room caught your attention.

The chemist dissolved into a fit of rage, and you heard his angry mumbles to himself even over the fire alarm. Smoke billowed out from either side of him as he mixed his viles together and for a brief moment, he looked up and caught your gaze.

Everything felt like it froze as you locked eyes with him, and suddenly you knew what Peter felt. It felt like this man looked into your soul and read your deepest secrets. Your blood ran cold and fear pulsed through your veins as he suddenly launched himself at you.

You yelped and covered your head, anticipating an impact, but it never came. Looking up, you saw Spider-Man clinging to the ceiling, a shot of web tangling with the chemist and stopping him in his tracks.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Spider-Man quipped as he flung another web shot at him and flipped over to stand in front of you.

“Spider-Man…” the chemist growled as he threw a bottle towards him.

Peter quickly covered you, protecting you from the impact as well as the few kids who still hadn’t gotten out. 

“Spider-Man!” They cheered together as they kept for joy- and relief- at seeing their favorite hero.

“Get out of here kids!” Peter instructed before he glanced at you for a moment. The two of you nodded subtly before he turned back to the chemist and launched himself at him.

“Come on,” you breathed, “Hurry!”

You pushed the rest of the kids out of the room, but before you yourself exited, you couldn’t help but look back. Deep down, you knew Peter put himself in danger as Spider-Man, but to actually see him fight in person, and so close, was something else. You felt fear, but not for yourself. Watching him take and deliver hit after hit honestly scared you. 

But you suddenly had something else to worry about.

“You!” The chemist roared as he gathered his concoctions.

“No!” Peter sounded more scared than you had ever heard him before.

Clearly, it was obvious to the chemist how important you were to Spider-Man, to Peter, and he took advantage of the opportunity. Before either of you could react, he threw something at you, and you found yourself surrounded by a blinding gas. 

You gasped as you covered your mouth and dropped to the floor. Faintly, you heard the grunts of Peter fighting him still, but you couldn’t see anything. You were sure if it was from the gas or just from the adrenaline but you felt more and more dizzy the longer you stayed in the fog.

I’m another flash, you heard an explosion and the building shook. You struggled to keep from falling completely flat on the floor and you scrambled to stay on your hands and knees, ready for anything. 

You heard your name in Peter’s voice before you saw his silhouette appear in the fog. You tried to call out his name, but your voice croaked. Reaching out for him your hand trembled until it finally made contact with his.

“I’m here,” Peter murmured to you as he yanked you close, “Cover your mouth and hang on,” his voice trembled, “I’m getting you out of here.”

All you could do was nod as you felt yourself lifted into his arms with his super strength. You covered your mouth as you clung to him with your other arm. A gust of air hit your face as you found yourself flung through the air as Peter flipped and flung your bodies out of the museum. Faintly, you both heard the kids cheering for Spider-Man and shouting excitedly. Usually, Peter would have stopped for them, but right now his first priority was you and your safety.

You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you felt the air get fresher and fresher as he fwiped through the buildings and landed you both in an empty skyscraper far away from everyone.

The moment he sat you down, Peter ripped off his mask and looked you over, cupping your face as he did so. “Look at me,” he sounded breathless, “Are you hurt?”

You immediately saw the look of pure fear on his face, and it made your heart sink. You were sure you looked a mess, and you felt sore but you didn’t feel hurt. “I’m ok,” you whispered. 

Peter exhaled your name in relief as he gathered you in his arms. “You’re ok, sweetheart,” he cupped the back of your head as he held you as close and as tight as he could, “You’re ok…”

You weren’t sure if his words were for you or for himself. Perhaps both.

“I’m ok Pete,” you whispered softly in his ear as you clung to him, feeling safe in his arms. All the fear and adrenaline slowly faded away and you felt calm and safe the longer he held you. With one deep exhale, you felt better and you pulled away just enough to look into his eyes while still remaining secure in his arms, “Did you really have to wait and pull a dramatic rescue like that?” you smirked softly.

Peter rolled his eyes at you, but at the same time he was relieved to hear you say that; it meant you were back to normal with your wits about you, “Sweetheart…” he breathed. The truth was he had never been more scared, especially with the explosion. He opened his mouth to voice that, but the words were caught in his throat. Peter grimaced at the thought of losing you and a tear formed in the corner of his eye.

Sensing the change in tone, you tried to distract him, “Hey Pete?” you asked.

“Hmm?”

“What happened… To…?”

His grip on you tightened, “I think the mixtures he was using affected his mind… Made him so angry… He…Umm,” Peter trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud and upset you.

“Oh,” you whispered, unsure of what to say next. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for several moments as the breeze hit your faces. “Well, thank you,” you broke the silence, “For saving me.”

That brought a smile to Peter’s face. He leaned in and kissed you deeply, expressing all his emotions in the kiss instead of with his words, “You never have to thank me, honey,” he murmured against your lips as he placed a chaste kiss, “I’ll always protect you.”

You grinned against his cheek as your eyes fluttered closed, “And I’ll always take care of you too,” you hummed, “We made a good team back there though, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Peter chuffed, “You and me…”

“Against the world,” you finished the thought.

Silence fell over the two of you again, but before either of you could say anything, a growl from your stomach interrupted. You looked at Peter and both of you burst into laughter.

“I guess all that excitement made me hungry,” you chuckled.

“How about we get out of here then?” Peter said with a smirk, “I know a place that’s got the best salsa. We’ll pick up some tacos or something on the way too.”

You smiled brightly at him, “Sounds perfect…” you poked his chest, “Spider-Man.”

Peter felt his heart flutter in his chest. Oh yes, he definitely was going to find you the best ring he could and he was going to ask you to marry him as soon as possible. 

[jessybarnes]

I See You

Pairing - Professor Snape x Student!Reader

Tags - Angst, crying, confessions of love, sneaking out, slight panic attack, and I think that’s it.

Word Count -  684 

Beta - None. All mistakes are my own.

A/N - The reader is 18 in this! This is a repost from my old Tumblr blog. I am in the process of transferring all of my fics over to this one. I hope you enjoy :)

Nights at Hogwarts were often calm. While the rest of the students slept peacefully in your dorm, you sat on the windowsill with your thoughts. It was nearly spring, and even closer to the day when you’d have to say goodbye to the place you practically grew up in. 

You’d miss so many people and things about this castle, but there was one person you’d miss more than anything else. Falling in love with Professor Snape hadn’t been your intention, but it’s what your heart decided. 

Most nights, you would look out across the grounds and let your mind race until you were tired enough to sleep. Other nights, much like this one, you knew it wouldn’t be enough. Quickly and quietly, you slid your shoes on and stepped out into the chilly dungeon corridor. 

Navigating these halls was something you’d grown accustomed to over the years, and you managed to get to your destination without using Lumos once. Once you were sure you weren’t followed, you slipped inside and breathed a sigh of relief. 

Unaware that Professor Snape watched you disappear behind the door, your eyes zeroed in on the one thing that brought you peace. The Mirror of Erised sat near the back of the room, and you felt as if you were drawn to it. 

Slowly, you walked up and ran your fingers along the grooves of its frame.  The detail in its design was beautiful, but that wasn’t why you came here. The floor beneath you was cold, but you sat anyway. Your knees were folded up to your chest and your eyes glistened with fresh tears as you took in the sight before you. 

It was you in an embrace. A hand came up to cradle your face as obsidian eyes gazed lovingly into your soul. You were so enraptured by how real it all looked that you didn’t hear the door open behind you.

“I could have you expelled for being out of bed, you know.”

You felt the color drain from your face. Out of all the people to find you in here, why did it have to be him?

“P-Professor Snape! I … I can expl-” 

Instead of taking points away from Y/H, he asked a question you weren’t expecting.

“What do you see?”

You wiped a few stray tears and shook your head.

“You wouldn’t understand…”

Snape crossed his arms, his expression becoming impossibly more impatient.

“The fact that you think I wouldn’t understand only intrigues me more, Y/L/N. Either tell me what you see when you look in that mirror, or I’ll take you to Dumbledore myself.” 

Panic pricked at your skin. There was no way you could tell him, and he’d know if you lied, so you did the only thing you could at that moment. You ran. He called after you, but all you could think of was finding somewhere to hide. A closet caught your eye and you hurried inside, barricading yourself against the back of the door. 

Sobs shook your body and even though you knew the noise would lead him straight to you, nothing could stop them. His deep voice was muffled by the thick wood of the door, but you still heard him clear as day.

“Did you really think you could hide from me in my own potions closet?”

He muttered the unlocking spell and tried to get in, but you pushed back keeping him from entering.

“Professor, please, just … let me go back to my room! Don’t break my heart anymore than it already is!” 

“Y/N! Open the door!”

Snape never called you or any other student by their first name, and that was enough to get you to ease up on the door just enough. He opened it slowly and stepped into your space, his hand tilting your face up to meet his just like in the reflection you saw.

“Tell me, what do you see?”

Your lip quivered as you finally told him your secret. The welfare of your heart now laying completely in his hands. 

“I see you.”

[jokeringcutio]

The Gift - The Grabber x Reader Insert

Summary: Your curiosity got the better of you.

Fandom: The Black Phone (2022) Pairing: Albert Shaw | The Grabber x (f) Reader Rating: Mature Warnings: Dark themes, kidnapping, older man\younger woman, age difference, size difference, allusions to dubious consent, dub con, reader insert. Read it [ here on AO3 ] or read it below <3 Written for the amazing @willshipanything-blog ~ * ~ Despite the blue lucid sky, the house in front of you looked grey and solemn. As if the building was covered in shadows despite the sunlight shining brightly over Denver.

A deceitful wind was blowing, chasing the clouds away, tricking people into thinking it was warmer outdoors than it actually was. Though, when out of the wind, the weather could actually be described as nice, hot. Bone-warming.

A lamppost nearby was flickering lightly despite it being day. And then the wind reminded you again that there was still a chill in the air.

The front door to the house was open, inviting strangers into the otherwise uninviting home. A paradox with a sense of mischief to it. It let itself be pushed by nature, its hinges creaking and cracking every time the wind picked up and played with it.

So this was the house your friends had been talking about, eh? A rather elongated ground floor building with a tiled roof and a low iron fence around it. You hardly ever crossed this street when on your way home, so you hardly had paid attention to it. But then your friends had taken their sweet time to tell you stories about this place, challenging each other to be the first to check it out.

You had doubted their words then, thinking that if no one had gone inside, how did they know it was abandoned? It had something to do with the lease, one of your friend’s – whose father was into real estate – had told you. And now it just stood there without a purpose, waiting for a new owner to come and lay claim. But so far, no one had bothered yet. It was positioned in one of the less interesting neighborhoods, a suburb of Denver. Most young people wanted to move uptown. When you looked at the house you could imagine why. It was no castle. Just an ordinary looking building.

The door creaking caught your attention again and you watched it swing in the wind. Surely the neighbors must be annoyed by the sound, you thought. Perhaps you should go and close it?

Not that you were curious and looking for an excuse to step closer, of course.

Slowly, you made your way to the porch, pausing a few times to glance over your shoulder to see if anyone was approaching. But no one seemed to be around.

As you lay your hand on the doorknob, you wondered what would happen if you had a little peek inside. The idea of an abandoned home – history unknown – was thrilling to you. Would there be any furniture left behind? Any clues of whoever had lived there?

Your fantasy ran wild.

And so you did the brave thing and quietly placed one foot over the threshold. You listened with bated breath, but apart from the wind you heard no other sounds. The building emitted a sense of forlorn peacefulness. The air being quiet, like the silence before a storm.

Carefully, you moved forward until you stood fully inside, your eyes slowly adjusting to the dimness surrounding you. You gasped when you realized you’d come into a little hallway. Plain cream-colored walls and floor stretched in front of you. A rug the only thing giving color to the space.

There was still furniture inside.

An ordinary hallway with a little empty white plastic cabinet to the side and a tin umbrella stand in the shape of a misshapen flower in the corner to your right.

A cold gush of wind brushed past your arms and sent shivers down your spine. You subconsciously closed the door behind you, eager to get away from the wind’s chilly touch.

You did it! You’d been naughty and entered someone else’s house. No, scratch that. You were exploring an abandoned building. How more exciting could things be?

Taking a moment to revel in this feeling, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and smiled. The air around you felt warmer here. It did not smell dank or musty like you would have expected for an unmaintained house. Perhaps it had not been abandoned for that long? You couldn’t recall if your friends had said anything about that.

As quiet as a mouse, you continued your exploration. Two doors at the end of the hall made you come to a halt, and you decided to try the one to the left first. It opened with a click, and when you carefully peeked around the corner, you spotted a twin-sized bed in the middle of the room, its wooden headboard pressed neatly against the wall. There was an old wooden closet there, and a nightstand next to the bed on which you could see an old glass, fingerprints smudged over it.

You wrinkled your nose. Someone’s bedroom then. Judging by the sight of clothes strewn in one of the corners of the room, you wondered if someone else had been here before you and ransacked the place already. It would explain the lack of little nick-knacks in the hall.

Carefully, you closed the door, resting your hand against it as you thought about the things you’d just seen. One room down, another to go, you thought. And with your head held high, you stepped to the door on the right, opening it swiftly but carefully. You were afraid to make a sound, despite knowing that you were the only one around. The room  that was revealed was darker than the bedroom. Long curtains were drawn in front of the windows at the other side, blocking the daylight. A door lurked on the other side in one of the corners, signalling that there was at least one more room to explore.

Taking one step forward, you heard how wooden floorboards creaked under your weight. It made you pause and look down. With a frown, you noticed that a thick Persian rug was lying several inches away from your foot. It seemed to cover most of the room like a squared blanket. You understood the owner’s choice. At least it would dampen the sounds of the wood cracking whenever you walked on it. You made sure to tread lightly upon the rug, making as little noise as you possibly could. Your curious gaze slid past a large wooden cabinet with many drawers that stood to the left side of the wall, and then over to a quilted blanket that lay upon a couch opposite of it. You stepped closer, picking it up, feeling the mixture of soft and rough fabrics slide underneath your fingertips. This seemed to be hand-made with love, you thought. Why would someone leave it there?

A scratch.

Was that a sound? You stood frozen, listening. Like paws sliding past something solid? You held your breath, fearing that a dog might come running round the corner any moment now, but nothing came. Slowly, you turned to face the direction from which you had come, but the door behind you was still open and the hall was still empty. You dared to breathe again.

Turning back to face the room, it was easy to see that this must be the living area, with the couch in the middle. A cushioned chair was beside it, a lamp standing to its side. Probably used for reading, you realized. As your eyes traveled past the room, you spotted the rather obvious television cabinet across the couch. And then, a television caught your eye.

You frowned.

Who would leave an expensive item like that lying around? Especially if others had been here before to ransack the place. But then you noticed that the room seemed clean, no signs of debris or destruction. No graffiti on the walls, no cabinets wretched open.

And so you did it yourself.

You placed the little quilt blanket back on the couch, walked over to the cabinet with all the little drawers, and started to pull open some of them. One drawer held leaflets, another cutlery. There were some glasses and a party cocktail set on one of the shelves above them. Another drawer revealed an unopened package full of black balloons. And then another drawer was opened and you had no idea what it was you saw in there. Like compressed little foam rubbery things? Were those bananas? Another one, and you saw how this entire drawer was filled with scarves and colorful fake flowers. And was that a glass of wine but folded? You quickly closed the drawer and caught your breath.

Such odd things, you mused. But it was all there. All of the drawers were filled. Everything seemed very much there, which meant…

Your eyes drifted to the television cabinet, neatly decorated. You noticed a pile of video tapes with some titles having recently been released.This place did not look abandoned. In fact, every surface seemed in tip-top and pristine condition. No cobwebs, no excessive dust traces. Why had you not spotted this sooner?

Your hand slipped past your thigh. A heavy feeling settled in your stomach, like a stone weighing you down. This house was not abandoned.

As if the devil played a game with you, at that precise moment, when you realized this house was not uninhabited at all, there was a loud sound behind you, like the rattling of keys. You instinctively dashed forward, rushing to the other side of the living room where a door was, determined not to be caught by whoever owned this place.

Surely this house must have some kind of backdoor? Or at least a window that would allow your escape? Imagine the embarrassment you'd feel if the owner of the house caught sight of you. It would be like Goldilocks, but so much worse, because it would be you who got caught. And you had no idea how to explain your actions. Would this person belief it was just curiosity? Or would they think you were a burglar, a thief? Would they call the police? No, you did not like to think of that. This was all a misunderstanding, a silly mistake.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest as you closed the door behind you, willing yourself to calm down and think rationally. A mere glance was all you needed to see that you had ended up inside a kitchen.

The window here was uncovered, allowing the daylight to spill in. A table was all prepped up, someone’s range of breakfast cereals posed on one side. By the look of the used plate at one end of the table, whoever lived here must have been in a hurry this morning. A smudge of yogurt or milk and a lonely forgotten berry adorned the plate. At least whoever lived here had taste, you thought sardonically. But there was no time to dwell on your thoughts for a sound came from outside. A dog barking. So you had been right, there was a dog out there. And were those paws again, tapping against the front door of the house?

A kitchen counter was to your right, a fridge to your left. It all seemed so ordinary and lived in. You could not believe you had thought this place to be abandoned only moments ago. So it had been a prank after all, you could not help but think bitterly. Your friends had pulled a prank on you and you’d fallen for it. Would they be laughing if they found out it had worked? That they had fooled you? And so easily, you thought angrily. How foolish you must seem to them, and how foolish you would seem if you got caught by the owner.

You looked around, frantically, for a place to hide or escape. The kitchen cabinets would offer you no room to hide, and underneath the table you’d be spotted within seconds. But there was a blue door to your right, and a staircase in front of you that spiraled to some place below ground level. It was an easy equation.

Without a second thought, you dashed forward to open the blue door in the corner of the room. But unlike the other doors, this one remained closed. In an attempt to force it open, you placed your shoulder against it and pushed with all your might. It took all of your strength, but the only result was a disappointing creaking. The door would not budge and you could only conclude that it must be locked.

You let out a small agonized cry when you realized that this must be the backdoor you’d been hoping to find, but it was offering you no escape. You tried to peek through the slats that covered the door’s glass and caught a glimpse of the side of the house. It was large, must larger than the rooms you'd been through. There must be more rooms, you realized as you looked at the house from this angle. There must be some door that you had missed. But there was no going back now.

You heard the tell-tale sound of a front door being opened and closed. Something was placed in the tin stand, the sound a loud clink that resounded throughout the hallway.

You looked up, sweat forming little droplets on your forehead. Then, an unbidden thought: It was getting later in the afternoon. What if they got hungry?

Swiftly you spun around, desperately looking for a place to hide. Footsteps sounded, heavy on the floorboards. Alarm bells were ringing inside your head. Whoever had just entered must be someone big, you mused. Who said the person wouldn’t come up to you with a gun? This was America after all.

The footsteps halted shortly, then grew louder, a clear indication that whoever had entered the house was now heading in your direction. You could hear the happy barking of a dog.

Shit. They were going to find you. If not the house owner, than probably the dog.

For a moment, you stood there indecisively. There was no place to hide in here. The kitchen counter was empty, the cabinets already in use with plates and mugs. The only way for you to go was forward, down the concrete stairs that led into some kind of basement.

I have no choice, you thought. If I go in there then hopefully they won’t see me. Perhaps you could stay hidden for long enough until whoever lived here would leave the kitchen, then you could get out unseen and unembarrassed for accidentally barging into someone’s house. Yep, that sounded like a solid plan.

You were swift to descend the stairs, wincing when you heard the first few steps creak alarmingly. There was no way to get up or down here without being heard, you thought. That is, if whoever lived here was nearby. You hoped the dog hadn’t heard or smelled you yet, but there was nothing to be done for it.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs you came into full-contact with a closed door. Dread it, you thought angrily. Was this how your great plan of escape was going to end? But luckily, all it took was just a push for the door to open. You wasted no time in getting into the dark space behind it, letting the door fall to a close behind you.

It was a basement, just like you had predicted. But it wasn't filled with anything like you had expected it do be. There were no crates and no racks filled with wine. It wasn't converted to some kind of game room or man cave. It was just a dark and empty place. You weren’t sure what you had hoped for. If the owner would have had all of his stuff cluttered in here, then at least you would have had the perfect place to hide. Now it was just an empty and open space with little to no room for you to curl your body into and pretend you weren’t there.

You hadn't hardly taken a step into the room when you noticed the change between the air here and upstairs. Here it was mushy and nearly suffocating. What was this smell? Your eyes darted to the only two objects in the room. A wired bed frame with an old damp mattress covered in dark spots. Yikes! And then there was a black phone attached to the wall. You could see the cord of it dangling into nothingness. That would not make any calls for your rescue.

Whoever lived here seemed to have taken little care of this space, perhaps even forgotten about it, you thought. It was obvious the room had been given little love in recent years, by the way the walls showed traces of crumbling and the floor was covered in dirt and grime. A little window at the other side of the room caught your attention, but it was way up high. You doubted you could reach it.

Breathing heavily as your pressed yourself against the brick walls, you tried to listen to the sounds above your head. But oddly enough, there were none. It was as if the space you were in had been concealed, like a little pocket of time and space in another dimension. A little box of nothingness; of darkness and silence.

You knew that going back up was not an option. But where could you hide? As your eyes started adjusted to the meager light that came in from the window up high, you noticed there was a corner at the end of the room. Perhaps there was something hidden behind it?

You slowly made your way deeper into the basement. Your footsteps slapped on the uneven tiles of the floor. Yet, any sound you made, any breath that was a bit too loud, seemed to be absorbed by the walls. You hoped that whoever was up there did not hear you as you made your way to the other side of the wall. Your joy was short-lived and you flinched upon the sight of what you found around the corner. An old toilet. That explains the nasty smell somewhat, you thought. Though it did smell like a rat had died in here. You pulled a face and, with your nose pinched between your fingertips, you looked around. No rat to be found, must be the toilet then.

Looking around once more, you saw that there was nothing there. Now way out. No secret door. No room. Just some old rugs piled on top of each other.

With no wish to remain next to the smelling pit any longer, you headed back into the main room the basement had to offer. Your eyes flitted shortly to the door. Should you push against it? Set it ajar so you could hear whatever happened above you? Did you dare to do that? But what if the owner was up there and caught sight of you? What if the dog was there? You felt like you were left with no alternative but to seek your escape from the window that was up high. It was probably your best bet to get out now. But how could you get to it? You glared up at it, studying the window way up high. As if it had been put there at that exact height just to tease you. Then you squinted your eyes. Did you see it correctly? Did it have bars in front of it? You briefly wondered why it needed that, then remembered seeing bars on many more basement windows around town. It was a thing apparently, probably to keep cats and hedgehogs out or something. Or thieves, you mused. Now, however, the bars made it feel like you were inside of a prison. Just what you needed after barging into someone's home uninvited.

Your eyes slid back past the few items in the room. It wasn't much, but you figured you could use whatever you had. You could get the rugs and step upon them to try and reach the window, you imagined. But they seemed heavy and you would have to move the whole lot of them. That seemed like a mighty bit of work to do. Then again, it seemed like you had time aplenty now that you had yourself trapped in here.

Then there was the issue of the bars. How were you going to get past them? Standing on your tiptoes, you tried to study the window from afar. You thought you could see how some of the bars were bent. Perhaps if you used all of your strength you could bend them some more and find your way out. If only you had something to help you make the job of bending them easier. Then your eyes fell upon the black phone. Yes, that might work.  

As quietly as you could, you set about pushing and pulling the rugs from their resting spot and underneath the window until you had formed a nice pile. Nice.

Admiring your handiwork, you then set out to get the cord from the telephone. If you could get high enough on the rugs to reach the window, then you could wrap the cord around two bars and pull it tighter and tighter until the bars would bend under its pressure. At least, that's what these prison escape movies had made you believe. Stepping over to the black phone, you placed your hand on it and felt the dust bite into your skin. How long had it been here, you wondered? Forgotten and abandoned. Why had it been installed here in the first place? You wiped off some of the dust with your sleeve, then pulled at the cord. It slipped free easier than you had expected and with a thud, you fell backwards and landed on your buttocks. A groan escaped your lips. Of course this was just your luck. But at least the cord was in your hands. And dangling from it was the phone itself. You could use that, you thought, to smash the window when time came. It was a risky idea, but you thought you could get there. You had all the tools: something to climb upon, something to bend the bars and something to break the window. You got this.

Slowly, you got up to your feet and walked over to where the rugs had formed a nice slouched pile on the floor. You placed your foot on top to test if the pile would hold you. When the rugs didn't slip off of each other, you climbed your way up. 

You were close to it now, much closer than before but not quite close enough. Why were you this small? Why as the window so damn high up?

A creak sounded behind you but there was no time for you to react fast enough. Two strong arms encircled around your waist before you could even as much as turn around to look behind you, and then you felt yourself pulled downwards. Your feet slipped off the rugs whilst the phone fell from your hands. A cry escaped your lips. You’d been so close to getting away!

You had not heard the door open. You had not noticed someone approach, as concentrated as you had been on the task at hand. You'd been completely unaware. And now it was too late. You felt someone behind you, heat radiating off his body.

“My, my,” the voice was low and raspy. A man’s voice, definitely, but a man who sounded parched. Like he desperately needed a drink. Two hands were heavily upon you, sliding from your waist all the way up to your shoulders while your back was pressed against someone's front. A firm chest, you thought. Someone larger than you. You felt him push down on you, like you weren’t already smaller than his towering frame.

“A gift!” the man’s voice rose, becoming lighter and almost childish, then an added murmur, “for me.”

What had you stumbled into?

He slowly turned you by your shoulders until you faced him. You desperately wished to know who this man was. Yet at the same time, you were too afraid look up and meet the owner of the lilting voice. So many octaves, so many emotions, in just a few sentences. You did not think you had ever heard such a range in someone’s voice before.And so you kept your eyes on the floor. You did not dare look up.

Firm fingers pressed tightly into your skin, pressing through the layers of your clothes. You felt how he maneuvered you with his grip, making you stumble a few steps backwards until your back hit the firm wall. You saw his shoes. Black pants with red socks. He felt strong. Incredibly so. His warm hands were big when you felt them on your arms, his palms covering the entirety of your shoulders, his fingers curling around your upper arms.

You listened to his breathing, deep and slow. Was he studying you? You tried to subdue your own wildly beating heart and finally willed yourself to look up into the stranger’s eyes.

You instantly knew that you were going to regret this.

He's like dad, you could not help but think when you finally saw him. A man with lines on his face and grayness to his hair. A man around the age of your parents. A father type. A neighbor. Just another ordinary looking man. But boy, did he feel anything but ordinary. His hands lay heavy upon your shoulders. He’s a man, you reminded yourself. Just a man. But then his lips curled into the tiniest hint of a smirk. As if he was enjoying this – whatever it was that was happening between the two of you. His eyes, a pale color, bore into you. His forehead crinkled when he raised his brows, as if he saw something on your face or in your expression that you didn’t know and could not guess at.

Wisps of hair fell to his shoulders; a brown color that was slowly washed to grey by age. The darkness of the room fell upon him like a cloak. He could be part of it, of the darkness, you thought. With his black blouse and black jeans. If not for the red turtleneck that peaked out from underneath his blouse, like blood dripping from an artery, he could have been a shadow himself.

His skin was pale in the dark, dripping wet. As if he had recently been cleansing his face with water.

Strong pale hands gripped your shoulders possessively, thumbs digging painfully into your skin as he pressed you against the wall.

A low laugh escaped him. “Usually they don’t come to me,” his voice was higher now, then it got low again, “but look at you.” The last words came out like a purr.

He leaned his head a little more forward until his lips were near your skin, his breath ghosting past your cheek. You wished you could tear yourself away from his grip, especially when you felt him press his chest to yours. Could he feel your rapid heartbeat? Could he feel your breasts pressed against his chest?

But his hold on you was firm. And when he felt you move, his grip on you seemed to tighten even more.

“Oh,” it came out as a sigh from between his lips. As if something occurred to him. The distance between your upper bodies increased again, for which you were grateful. The heat that radiated from his body affected you less now that he was further away. And for a moment, you thought it was over. That he had touched you and invaded your personal space just to intimidate and scare you. That he had wanted to teach you a lesson after finding you illegally tiptoeing around his home.

You were prepared to step away, but then he chuckled.

“Look at you, honey.”

Dread crept upon you upon hearing his light voice, teasing almost. Elated. This was not good. Your heart was hammering inside of your chest, your breast heaving as you tried to remain calm. The man’s eyes flew downwards, as if he had caught sight of your sped-up heart-rate. An eerie smile slid on his lips, and it was as if a dark twinkle had appeared in the man’s eye.

“Oh,” his voice was low and guttural, coming deep from his belly. His left hand slipped from your shoulder and all the way up to cradle your neck. Cold rings pressed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You tried to pull your head away, to move your neck out of his reach, but it seemed the man had you trapped against the nearest wall and in no position to edge away from him.

A hum rose from deep within his chest, appreciative almost. As if he was studying you and liked what he saw. “You’re special.” The low murmur hardly reached your ears, so soft and quiet it came.

You could feel his fingertips twirl into your hair. A gesture that felt almost lovingly. It was hard to swallow, let alone breathe. You tried to pull your head away from his touch and tear your eyes from his gaze, but he would not let you. With just a tug at your hair he had you lock eyes with him again, deep pools of grey that swirled with darkness.

“Up here, sweetheart,” you heard him say, indicating you should look at his face rather than avert your eyes. The whispered words turned something deep inside of the pit of your stomach. Raw emotion laced his voice. He sounded hungry, starving. His fingers re-positioned in your hair, as if to get a better grip.

Then suddenly, all of the tenderness was gone and his fingertips dug deep into your skin again. It was painful. You tried to reach up to relieve some of the pain, but he started walking and you had no choice but to follow him as he half-dragged you to the bed. Your hands reached out for his to alleviate his grip, your fingers curling around his in vain. He was too strong, his hold never relenting. Not until he dropped you face-first upon the spot-covered mattress.

The bed frame creaked with your weight as you were thrown upon it. What was happening? Your mind was running overtime as you tried to think of ways to get the man to stop. The moment you felt that his hold on you was gone, you tried to push yourself up, crawling with your elbows in front of you as you tried to lift your belly from the bed. But a firm hand pushed against your lower back, effectively pressing you down until you felt the springs of the mattress prick your stomach. Then another weight was added. The man pressed himself against you. His hands caught your wrists with ease, forcing them in front of you with a grunt. And then you felt your whole body being flipped over, roughly, before his weight settled on top of yours.

He had roughly turned you over, trapping you uncomfortably beneath his thighs, and you tried to arch your back to loosen his hold on you. But his weight remained on top of you, his legs at either side of you, keeping you caged underneath his body. Now on your back, panting heavily, you looked up to see his frame atop of you, hurled in shadows, as he slowly leaned over you. His hands pressed down tightly upon your wrists, keeping them pinned above your head. The whites of his teeth glinted as he smirked down at you, like the cat who got the cream – or the predator who finally pounded upon his prey.

“You know,” he said through gasps, as if it had become hard to breathe. In this position, with him leaning over you, you had every opportunity to study his face. The wrinkles that adorned his skin, the black dilated pupils in his otherwise pale eyes. And the maniacal glint that lay within them.

“I never had one like you before,” he breathlessly said, his arms keeping yours pinned above your head.

No wait.

Your eyes grew wide when you realized his right hand had slid down to your collarbone. Which meant he was restraining you with only the one hand. His left. How strong was he? How big compared to you?

“But you know what they say,” he continued, voice laced with delight as he traced a knuckle past your cheek, “can’t look a gifted horse in the mouth.”

You growled, teeth gritted and showing. How dare this man? You were most certainly not gifted to him. "Let me go," it came out fiercer than you thought it would. But here you were, telling the man to stop and let you out. Your voice was unshaken. You sounded confident. He shifted, sitting up straighter to have a better look at you. You would almost say that his eyes softened at what he saw, if it wasn’t for his voice which was still low and husky. “No sweetheart, I can't do that. You see, I so do love a challenge,” the words weighed heavy upon you, almost as heavy as this man’s frame.

Then he was upon you again, fully. His chest brushed against yours, making it hard to breathe. You noticed the first stripes of grey fanning out from his long hair as he leaned over you. "Stop," you begged him, "just let me go, sir."

"Sir," he said, mockingly. "I like that, little girl." His breath was hot on your skin and then his lips brushed past your cheek, ever so slightly.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for me?” he purred in your ear.

Your eyes widened again. No, you could not think of it, should not think of what he might have in mind for you. None of that was going to happen to you. It just could not. You struggled with renewed vigor, wildly thrashing against his body. His fingers curled painfully around your wrists, hard enough to bruise, desperate to keep you there, trapped underneath him.

His hips pressed flushed against yours. Something hard poked into your abdomen. Something hard and hot. You instantly ceased moving, your eyes wide and wild. Was that...?

Then you heard him laugh near your ear. “I thought so,” and with those ominous words, you felt all the fight leave your body. Be his good girl? He chuckled again.

“I think I’m gonna keep you.”

[swagmagussupreme]

@whiterose-fans-blog White Rose in Bloom, Day 1: Hobbies

"Stay in the lines, don't let me hit you."

Simple enough rules, just two things. That was all she had to do. Stay between the two lines that they'd chalked across her backyard— the space was about two or three feet, so that wasn't a struggle— and don't get let her girlfriend hit her.

"Uh, hit me with what?"

Weiss rolled her eyes and reached into her white duffel. "The épée, dumbass," she said obviously, pulling out one of the skinny swords with a ball for its tip. One of her densely-meshed fencing masks followed after, flying from her hand and tumbling between Ruby's, who nearly fumbled it to the grass before she collected herself. She slipped it over her head and held her hands out.

"Hey, where's your helmet?" Ruby asked after a second.

Weiss shrugged. "Don't need one."

"You're that cocky?"

"Ha!" the duelist barked, shaking her head imperiously. "No, not at all."

"Then where's your mask? And my épée?"

Weiss snapped her fingers. "Bingo!"

"Huh?"

"Ruby, baby, sweetie, my perfect, beautiful, sexy-hot, stupid, dumb idiot darling dumbass," Weiss cooed, tipping her hips left and right in the way she did when she was trying to get Ruby flustered (which always worked, including now). "You are not fencing. You've got two left feet."

Ruby huffed. "I'm a leftie, dude."

"Did I say two left feet? I meant two peg-feet. Like a shitty pirate."

"You're a shitty pirate."

Weiss tapped her chin with the épée, faking pensivity. "I won't deny that I am after yer booty, yarr."

The fencing mask was a little awkward, but it had the benefit of hiding Ruby's stupid blush. "Sh-shut the fuck up."

"Shuh-shuh-shut uuup!" Weiss mocked, stepping closer as she tauntingly wagged her sword. She came within arm's length, her chin high, her blue gaze brimming with pride and expectation. "And why would I? What reason would I possibly have to deprive the world my angelic tones?"

Ruby took the mask off to glare down at the shorter girl, her lips curled into a warning scowl. "Weiss..."

"I mean really! You expect me, your perfect and incredible girlfriend, to not mock you? You, my own sweet, stupid girlfriend, my own heart which couldn't possibly rebut the skills of my swordsmanship?"

She knew what she was doing. Ruby growled, "Babe..."

Weiss affected perfect, innocent ignorance. She continued to declare, "Oh, it's not your fault your blood is so bereft of talent and skill, so absent of mine ethereal beauty, my siren-song of being! What's a poor thing like you to do? Really?"

"Last chance."

"And you are so, so stupid and so, so inferior that it'd just be wrong to put such a gentlemanly tool in your rough, mannish palms!" Weiss sauntered closer, raising one of Ruby's hands to display its calloused interior. She tutted. "It simply isn't done, darling. It isn't done."

Ruby stared, her grey eyes dead. "Are you done?"

Weiss grinned up at her, knowing and confident. "Did I mention you're basically my trophy wife?"

"Your trophy wife."

"Because you're pretty. More or less, though a bit... homely. Maybe more of a housewife."

"Uh-huh. Homely."

"Oh very, like you belong in the home. Cooking and cleaning and such."

"Progressive."

"It suits you."

"For sure."

"You can walk around my home all naked with just an apron, maid outfits on Wednesdays, nun outfits on Sundays for Jesus."

"You know me, big for Jesus. Bless up."

"And you'll get to bear all my heirs like some... broodmare."

"Oh broodmare, holy shit. You just said that in real life. Incredible."

"And they'll be giant babies, but it's your job as my wife."

A pause. Weiss smirked up at her girlfriend, chin high, pale neck exposed.

Ruby dropped the mask and pursed her lips. "I'm gonna choke you out now."

Weiss beamed. "You think you could?" She wiggled the skinny blade between them. "I'm armed."

Ruby blinked, unimpressed, and grabbed the épée around its dull blade with one hand, her other hand shooting up to clutch Weiss' wrist. She squeezed the latter, and the fencer was smart enough to drop the sword before Ruby could apply any real force. She let the épée fall and wrapped Weiss' waist in her arms, lifting her bodily so bring them both to the ground. Ruby landed mostly on her own side so she didn't hurt the smaller girl, then twisted around her back to pin Weiss' captured wrist between her own sharp shoulder blades, her other arm going around Weiss' pale neck and fitting the trachea into the crook of her elbow.

"Tap," Ruby commanded, wrapping her legs around Weiss' waist to finish her hold.

Weiss struggled, her free arm flapping uselessly. "Never!" she whined.

Ruby flexed her bicep.

Weiss stiffened and started pawing at her girlfriend's chokehold. "Harder mommy," she squeaked thinly.

"Jesus fuck, dude."

"Jesus won't save you!"

Ruby wrenched the girl's wrist up, just a tiny bit, barely enough to—

"Okayokayokay!" Weiss spluttered, her horny clawing turned to frantic tapping. "Tap out!"

Ruby snorted, but relaxed her hold with a kiss to the fencer's snow-white crown. "Good girl."

"Fuck you."

Weiss was pressed close against her girlfriend's martial-toned body, the chokehold now a warm hug that wrapped across her chest. "You still wanna swing that gay thing at me?" Ruby teased.

"You don't swing in fencing," Weiss muttered. "But yes. I do."