#there’s more I missed but I only started collecting these towards the end of my last reread 😭
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secretstone · 4 days ago
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Guy and his puns
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roturo · 4 months ago
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`· . ౨ৎ OTAKU HOT GIRL !
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౨ৎ summary: “I like a tall woman with a nice big ass, haha.” Shocked faces turned to the pink-haired boy, not expecting such blunt honesty. “Just sayin’.”
Out of sheer curiosity, Todo leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face. “Got an example?”
WARNINGS: smut, male masturbation, lewd language and thoughts, overstimulation, sub-ish!yuji itadori, semi-public, use of pet names (puppy & ma'am) aged-up characters, whimpering, obsessed!yuji itadori, reader is mentioned like a person with big ass and tall, and lmk if i missed smth!
౨ৎ a/n: guess who's back baby! i listened to megan's new song and couldn't resist writing for my golden boy after hearing his voice omfg... 🫠i'm still a lil rusty and this might be short (1.4k words) but owmawgawd, this got meee
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“I like a tall woman with a nice big ass, haha.” Shocked faces turned to the pink-haired boy, not expecting such blunt honesty. “Just sayin’.”
Out of sheer curiosity, Todo leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face. “Got an example?” The room filled with mixed reactions, some intrigued and others apprehensive. They were already tired of his daily talk about Jennifer Lawrence. Who could he possibly like more than her?
The boy smirked, leaning back casually. “Like the new grade one sorcerer from Kyoto, [Y/N] [L/N]...”
A collective gasp echoed through the room. Everyone knew about you, the formidable new sorcerer who had quickly risen through the ranks. But hearing that someone admired you in that way was a revelation.
He flashed back to the first time he met you. The memory was vivid. It was during a joint training session between the Tokyo and Kyoto schools. You had walked in with an air of confidence that immediately caught his attention. Tall, strong, and undeniably sexy, you had an aura that made it impossible for him to look away.
From the moment you started sparring, he was entranced. Every move you made was precise, powerful, and graceful. He could barely focus on his own training, his eyes constantly drifting towards you. When you finally spoke to him, your voice was low and sultry, asking for a sparring match. He was so flustered that all he could manage was a shaky “yes ma’am,” despite you being the same age.
The sparring match was intense, the air thick with tension. He gave it his all, but you were relentless. Each of your strikes was met with awe and admiration. By the end, he was exhausted and utterly defeated, but he didn’t mind. He was too impressed by your skill and the way your body moved.
After that day, you became a frequent topic of his thoughts. He admired not just your beauty, but your fierce dedication and prowess as a sorcerer. Every time he saw you, he couldn’t help but be reminded of how captivated he was by you. His fantasies about you became more vivid, more intense, fueled by the memory of your close combat and the way your body pressed against his.
“So yeah,” he continued, snapping back to the present. “That’s my type.”
The room fell silent, the other boys processing his words. Some were still shocked, others nodded in understanding like Panda and Todo. It was clear that his admiration for you went beyond mere physical attraction. It was rooted in genuine respect and a desire that bordered on obsession.
You and he had been talking for a few months now, and his clear attraction to you only grew stronger with each passing day. Your casual conversations and shared laughter were becoming the highlight of his days. Sometimes, during joint training sessions between the two schools, he found it increasingly difficult to focus. His eyes would wander towards you, watching the way your body moved with precision and strength. The mere sight of you was enough to send a surge of desire through him, making it impossible to concentrate. On more than one occasion, he had to leave the training area, his cheeks flushed and a raging erection straining against his pants. The frustration was palpable, but he couldn’t help it. You had a hold on him that was both thrilling and torturous.
He had to leave training again just to find some privacy in the restroom, where he urgently pleasured himself through his pants, softly moaning your name. The need had become insatiable, every thought consumed by the image of you—your intoxicating smile, the curve of your hips, and the way your hair cascaded over your shoulders.
In the quiet sanctuary of the restroom, he leaned against the cool tiles, his breath hitching with each stroke. With trembling hands, he hastily undid his pants, revealing his throbbing cock already slick with anticipation. His mind replayed every encounter with you, from the shared glances to the moments when your eyes held a tantalizing promise.
Despite the overwhelming sensation after coming once, he couldn't resist the need to relieve himself. His hand moved almost mechanically over his throbbing cock, slick with his own essence. The thought of your touch, your fingers wrapped around him instead of his own, consumed him. He imagined how much better it would feel, how your soft, skilled hands would bring him to the brink and beyond.
As his hand wrapped around his pulsating shaft, he couldn't suppress a low groan. The touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure through him. Starting slow, he savored every sensation, but the ache only intensified. Each stroke brought him closer to the edge, his fantasies blending seamlessly with reality in a haze of desire.
Soft, needy moans escaped his lips, mingling with the sound of his rapid breaths. He imagined your touch—delicate yet commanding, expertly teasing him to the brink. His cock twitched at the thought, pre-cum slickening his fingers as he quickened his pace.
Lost in the moment, he couldn't help but fantasize about how your lips would feel against his skin, your hands exploring every inch of him with a hunger that matched his own. The idea of you taking control, guiding him with a firm touch, made him shudder with anticipation.
His movements grew more urgent, chasing that elusive release. He could almost feel you there with him, your presence palpable in the confined space. With a guttural moan, he finally spilled over the edge, his release pulsing through him in powerful waves. He rode the wave of pleasure, his body trembling as he emptied himself, gasping for breath.
But even as he came for second time, his body continued to react, hypersensitive to every touch. He overstimulated himself, prolonging the pleasure and pushing himself to the brink of overwhelming sensation. Despite the intensity, he couldn't stop, his hand moving almost mechanically, seeking that final, blissful release.
As he leaned against the cool tiles, spent and still trembling, he couldn't shake the lingering desire for more. The fantasy of you lingered in his mind, fueling a hunger that would not easily be sated. He knew that the next time he saw you, every glance, every word exchanged would hold a newfound intensity, a longing that burned deeper than ever before.
Curiosity got the best of you as you entered the restroom in search of Yuuji, wondering why he had abruptly left practice. It had been unlike him to disappear without a word, and you couldn’t shake the concern that something might be wrong. Pushing open the door, you were met with the unexpected sight of him sprawled on the cool, tiled floor. His pants were pooled around his ankles, and his toned abs and hands were slick and glistening with his own release. Despite the aftermath, his cock stood proudly erect, a conflicted expression etched on Yuuji's face as he stared at it, small whimpers escaping his lips in his desperate quest for release once more.
The air in the restroom was heavy with the musky scent of arousal, adding to the charged atmosphere. Yuuji’s eyes, normally vibrant with energy and mischief, now held a mix of embarrassment and raw need. He looked up at you, his gaze pleading silently for understanding and perhaps even assistance.
You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do or say. His vulnerability in this moment was palpable, and you found yourself drawn to him despite the unexpectedness of the situation. Slowly, you approached him, the click of your shoes against the tile echoing softly in the silence. As you knelt beside him, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his skin flushed with desire and frustration.
He whispered your name, thinking all of this was a dream– Tentatively, your hand trailed down his chest, fingers ghosting over the slick, sensitive skin. His breath hitched at your touch, a mix of anticipation and relief flooding his features. "Please," he begged, his voice strained with desire. "Poor puppy– leaving training just because hormones got the best of him." He whimpered at the pet name you used, your hand now gently caressing his balls, catching him off guard and eliciting a loud moan that made you quickly cover his mouth with your hand.
"Shh, puppy," you whispered, your tone teasing yet commanding. "We wouldn't want others to hear what a needy slut you are, would we?" His eyes widened, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he shook his head frantically.
"Good boy," you cooed, your touch firm yet reassuring, knowing exactly how to play him.
pt2?
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getitoutofmymindwrites · 6 months ago
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Perfect. | joel miller x f!reader drabble, 1.6k
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Summary: You're full of Joel, but you need him in your mouth, too. Joel delivers.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, pwp, rough sex, dom!joel, sub!reader, established relationship, everything that happens is discussed and consensual, cursing, praise kink, size kink, degradation kink, unprotected p in v, minor anal play, nipple play, reader is obsessed with Joel's fingers, hair pulling, (1) ass slapping, manhandling, gagging kink, deepthroat, free use at the end, facial, cum eating, belated aftercare, as always, let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: There's not much to say, this is pure filth, just to cleanse my palette of all the anguish I've brought upon myself! It was written on a whim, so here goes 👀
P.S.: I don't need to remind you how much I hate summaries. I hate them. OK, ily all, bye!
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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“Fuck, you feel so good-” Joel pants between your breasts as you take him deep inside you, riding him, “uuuuuh, perfect- fuck- perfect little pussy-” He’s so big, you feel him in your belly. Your cunt is stretched to its limit but you’re so wet from all the orgasms he pulled out of you before impaling you on his hard cock, that he slides inside you with ease.
He sits on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the soft carpet beneath him. His hands cradle your ass, kneading it and maneuvering you up and down on his thick cock, while you lock your hands around his neck for leverage.
His fingertips glide lightly over your asshole as he holds you open and stretched in his palms, feeling your tight ring of muscle clench on his digits. His lower belly and balls are soaked in your arousal, the hairs on his base glued together by your sticky slick. Your clit rubs against them every time you roll your hips.
Joel runs his big calloused palms up your back, sending shivers down your spine and as you arch your back in pleasure, pushing your breasts closer to his face, he cups them, pinching your hardened nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You look down at his hands as he continues to arouse your tits and the sight makes your clit twitch and your cunt clench around him.
His wet tongue enters the game, flicking it up and down over your erect nubs, sending jolts of pleasure through your body and your thighs begin to tremble both from exhaustion and arousal.
Your fingers run through his hair, tugging gently. He moans as his hand comes down hard on your asscheek. You whimper at the spreading pain, your cunt gushing around his cock, the lewd sounds of your joined sexes only making it more obvious.
You fuck him so good and hard, sucking him deep inside you, you start creaming around him.
You become obsessed with his hands. Big, strong, veined and tanned, with tiny freckles, his fingers calloused and skillful; their expert touch, always bring you to completion.
“I wanna suck your fingers. Please..” you coo into his ear, your hands tugging desperately at the unruly curls at the back of his head.
“Mhhhh..yeah?” Joel turns his head towards you, his aquiline nose pressing against your cheek.
Your grip on him tightens as you continue to bounce on his cock, your voice laced with need and lust, “Please, Joel..”
Joel grants your wish and moves a palm away from your breast but doesn’t bring it to your mouth. Instead, he snakes it between your bodies, collecting your arousal from his slick-coated base. He’s going to be the death of you.
He brings his shiny fingers to your face allowing you to take the lead, go on, then. Milky strings of your slick create little webs connecting his digits together.
You encircle his wrist with your delicate fingers and bring his palm to your nose, smelling the combination of your juices and his musk, making your eyes roll. “You dirty little thing..” he mutters to himself, smirking as he begins to meet your thrusts with his own, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the otherwise silent room.
You open your eyes and slowly wrap your lips around his middle and ring fingers, swirling your tongue around the tips as you would his cock head. “Fuck.” he grunts through his teeth and you feel him twitch inside you, his breath stuttering. You hollow out your cheeks and suck them into your warm mouth, bobbing your head up and down on them, your eyes never leaving his.
“You like that, babygirl? Suckin’ my fingers like you do my cock?”
“Mmhmm..” you all but moan, your face wrecked from the intensity of the moment.
“Wanna gag on them?” Fuck yes.
“Mhhhh” you whine now, sucking even harder to make a point. He pushes his fingers further into your mouth as his cock pushes deeper into you, stroking that sweet spot that only he can reach. He presses on your gag reflex, making you gag and your eyes water. Your grip on his wrist is firm, making sure his fingers stay in your mouth.
“Such a fuckin’ whore f’ me, aren’t you? Stuffing your holes full ’a me, huh?” You clench violently around him, almost to the point of coming, your breath coming in short pants. He leans forward, his lips brushing your ear “Maybe I should stuff your tight little hole with my other hand, I bet you’d like me in there, too. I bet you’d take me so well, yeah?”
His dirty talk drives you wild and you arch your spine again, moaning around his fingers but he quickly withdraws them, strings of saliva briefly connecting your lips to his tips and you whimper at the loss.
He lowers his slick fingers to tap quickly but gently on your swollen clit. You cry out at the stimulation, waves of electricity rippling through your body. “Gonna come on my cock baby? Yeah..” he breathes, his eyes fixed on your face, contorted with pleasure, “Yeah, you are.”
That does it; you come so hard, spasming around his stiff length, making a mess on his lap. Joel stops fucking into you, staying buried to the hilt inside you, feeling the tight grip of your cunt choking him in rhythm.
“That’s it, thaaat’s it, look at me, baby, fuck- fuckmmphh- this perfect cunt-” Joel keeps guiding you through your orgasm, biting where your neck meets your shoulder.
Your mouth is slack from the force of your release but it feels so empty and before you come down completely you are begging for him. “I need you in my mouth, Joel- I need you to fill me with your cum, please Joel, please..” you beg deliriously.
“Christ, baby.” Joel grits his teeth and pulls you off his lap and his hard member, forcing you onto your knees and shoving his cock into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your hair. He can't deny you when you beg so prettily.
The taste is heavenly. Tasting yourself on him as you breathe in his heady scent makes your head spin with desire. “That’s it, gag on it.” he says as he focuses on his shaft, veiny, swollen and shiny, disappearing into your warm mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust.
He knows. He sees it all in your eyes, you’re so far gone, surrendered to your pleasure and his. Joel begins to fuck your throat in deep, sharp thrusts, his thighs tensing and bulging under your palms. He rests his hand around your throat, feeling it bulge under his fingertips.
You’re utterly ruined. Your eyes are bloodshot and filled with tears, and your lips are stretched and swollen as you drool around him. Your face is coated in sweat, saliva and your arousal. You can taste your cum and his pre-cum on your tongue, along with every ridge and vein of his erection. You just kneel there, between his legs like a toy, letting him take and give what you both need.
“Fuck, look at you. Look at you, my sweet girl, choking on this big cock.”
You don’t react, you just sit there, pliant and doe-eyed and take it; content and worry-free. You make it so hard for him to hold back any longer. He’s about to come and he has this irresistible urge to ruin that innocent, fucked out look on your face.
He pulls his cock out of your mouth and jerks furiously over your face, his biceps flexing from the effort, his other hand firmly gripping your hair to maneuver you as he pleases. You look up at him in total surrender, tongue out, longing for what’s to come.
His eyebrows are drawn together, his jaw is slack and his mouth is open in that perfect shape that his plush lips form, as he breathes heavily. His broad torso, covered in both yours and his sweat, rises and falls rapidly, his muscles flexing deliciously under his skin.
He comes and comes with a deep, guttural moan all over your face; your forehead, your eyelashes, your nose, your cheeks, your lips, everything is marked by his thick, warm, milky cum. Your cunt flutters at this act of degradation and possession.
“Don’t open them; it’ll sting.” you hear him say while catching his breath, referring to your closed eyes and your cum-coated lashes. You do as he says and wait behind the darkness of your closed eyelids for him to take care of you. But Joel just sits there, admiring his handiwork as he comes down from his high.
You can hear his heavy breathing and the lack of sight is the only thing that makes you realize he’s human, like you. This otherwise divine creature is human.
“Let’s clean you up.” you finally hear him say as you feel his thumb wipe his now cold and dry cum from your skin, press it gently against your lips and feed it to you. You swallow every last drop of it, your tongue warm and welcoming around his digit. He leaves your eyes last.
When he’s finished, he holds the sides of your face with his palms, taking a good look at your submissive form, resting his forehead against yours.
You slowly open your eyes as he plants soft kisses all over your face. “Perfect..” you hear him murmur, more to himself than to you.
“Perfect and mine.”
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evermore-fashion · 9 months ago
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Did I make a mistake?
As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health… until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though… do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? 🥹
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yourdearestlover · 1 month ago
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Dearest, lovers
Hello Tumblr World! I am that creator who has been working on Nicola & Luke Press Documentary for the past few weeks.
To tell you the truth, those weeks have been quite exhausting. I had to combine my job and private life to be able to work on, as how my followers had called it, N&L Press Doc. BUT! Enough about me, let's talk about the project.
For the whole plan to make sense, I had to collect material; starting from London and ending it on Ireland, that included over seventeen Google Doc pages of interviews from various social media platforms. In the meantime, I was posting surveys on X regarding certain details, because I wanted people to have a chance to choose. The most time-consuming task was searching for a good quality videos and photos, downloading needed files, neatening them into correct order, to then montaging into 4 parts. Several interviews were edited by me, splitted, resized, which only made the steps to finish line take longer than I had initially expected. Entire process from making decision to actually starting "new project", to rendering each part took about a month. With that being said, I was happy to finally announce the release date.
So here they are! PART ONE
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PART TWO
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PART THREE
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PART FOUR
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From here, I'd like to say BIG thank you for those who were with me the entire time, for those who helped me out with gathering the materials on X / TikTok, for those close to my heart that cheered me up, when things weren't going my way. And most importantly, but not least, thank you for each comment, each like and each viewing. I've spend days on this project, I've put my heart into it. And I'd love you guys to enjoy it, as much as I did, while making it.
I'd want to clarify one more thing. This documentary was put together to express my love towards both Nicola and Luke, to be able to give the fandom a space to reminisce the tour, to fill up the small puzzle of missing them. Absolutely NO negativity will be allowed. Yours truly,
Em <3
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suguann · 8 months ago
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OH, DARLING—ASTARION
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✎. he’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky, and you have the sneaking suspicion he's upset with you. | wc. 1.3K+
tags. fem!reader, established relationship, jealousy, slight dirty talk, pet names [18+ only]
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Eighteen days. That’s how long it takes between the Shadowlands and reaching Wyrm’s Crossing. Longer still since you’ve interacted with anyone other than bandits, lost refugees, cult-crazed lunatics, and your merry band of weirdos (Gale’s words, not yours). 
For once, you’re not picking berries off bushes to offset hunger until you make camp or plucking bramble from your pants when the occasional trail turns out to be safer than the King’s Road. You can finally sit at a bartop and order wine instead of choking down the contents of an ancient bottle of Ithbank you snatched from a cellar in some decrepit village.
That was at least the most tolerable thing you experienced outside the gates, as far as roughing it in the wilds goes.
And it might be your newfound appreciation for city life, of finding an escape from what’s become your current normal—sneaking past goblin-infested camps, waterlogged boots, and haystacks for beds (an upgrade from sleeping on the cold, hard dirt, you suppose)—that lures the Drow twins over to your party walking down from the top floor of the Sharess’ Caress.
“You must be curious after keeping such…” Nym glances over Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach, hovering behind you, threatening with blood stains on their clothes and out of place in an establishment full of nobles and wealthy ministers. “Interesting company.”
It’s safe to say you’re uninterested in the twins, but that doesn’t stop your curiosity from piquing when Nym demonstrates her talents with a peach she snatches from a fruit bowl off the nearest table. By the end of it—an obscene display that catches the eye of a few patrons walking by and sends your imagination reeling—you wonder how often she does this to gain clientele. If it’s always so…hands-on.
“So what do you think?” 
You don’t know what to think, oddly confused like that first time Astarion had to spell out for you that he wanted to have sex—you’re going to be so fun to break, pet—a girl who’s every bit the product and trappings of a sheltered fool. 
“Are you interested?”
The mutilated peach in Nym’s hand drips clear fruit juice down her wrist in thin rivulets, collecting at her elbow. You start to shake your head—
Astarion scoffs. “She already has her hands full without your sticky fingers and whatever the hells you’re doing to that innocent peach.” 
Nym’s mouth curls up into a coy smile before her gaze sweeps over to Astarion. “Her lover, I presume?”
“As in, I already tasted said peach while you’re still trying to get your mouth on it; well then, yes. Very much so.”
You slap his chest, your face somehow getting hotter. “Astarion!”
“Darling, we’re in a whorehouse. I assure you they’ve heard worse.”
Nym makes a wordless, amused sound. “Well, if you ever find yourself curious or—” she gives Astarion one last scrutinizing once over and looks at you again “—unsatisfied, you know where to find me and my brother.”
Before you can politely decline, Astarion chips in on your behalf, “Trust me, she’s not.”
He steers you toward the door—I’m never going to look at a silly piece of fruit the same after this—and you don’t miss how he sends the twins a withering stare right before he joins you on the street.
He’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky. 
You stare at the back of his head as he walks in front of you, bulky pack slung over his shoulder with the books and scrolls you bought earlier, deciding whether you should join him or leave him to his thoughts.
Karlach nudges your shoulder. “Trouble in paradise, soldier?”
“Not really.” You bite your lip. “Should there be?”
Her gaze follows yours to Astarion, and she hums in understanding.
“If you stare at his back any longer, you might burn a hole through it." Heat crawls up your neck, and you try to give her a shove when Astarion looks at both of you over his shoulder, but she doesn't move an inch and laughs instead. "He’s probably upset over finding another pebble in his boot again. Don’t sweat it.”
An unreasonable suggestion, for you know it’s more than another pebble.
He doesn’t say anything once you all reach camp, nor does he give you even the slightest acknowledgment when you walk by his tent on your way to bed or look up from his book—no hello, my sweet readily waiting on his tongue—when you slip a little note under his nose. 
It’s starting to give you the sneaking suspicion he’s upset with you—though you hardly have the faintest idea why.
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You’re pulled awake by the quiet, careful shifting of your blanket as someone slips into your bedroll behind you. You stare blearily at the barn's wall, trying to blink away the disorienting feeling still clinging to you like dew on a humid summer day. 
It’s the first brush of sharp incisors against your throat that erases the last vestiges of sleep altogether.
Ah, so he read your note.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” you whisper, aware enough to remember the other two people sleeping in the barn with you.
“Have I?”
“You know what I mean.” You tighten your grip on your blanket. “You’re upset, aren’t you?”
He kisses the tender spot below your ear. “I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”
“But you’re unhappy.”
Your breath hitches when his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. 
“Yes, I’m unhappy.”
“Was it because of what that drow said?”
“Hm, be more specific.”
“When she—with the peach.” You squirm a little, a mouse blessedly caught by the tail. “You know.”
His chuckle is soft, faintly mocking.
“Oh, darling. You think I’m jealous?” He runs a thumb over the fluttering pulse in your neck. “How cute.” 
And right before he applies the smallest amount of pressure—
“Well, you would be correct.”
When Astarion works at the laces of your pants, loosening them just enough to slip his hand underneath, you jump at the first cool brush of his fingers tracing across your heated skin. Your muscles jump, jump, jump under his touch, goosebumps prickling along your arms when his hand fits suddenly between your legs. Two soft pats that make you gasp.
“Drippy,” he murmurs. You don’t think your face can get any hotter.
Then he’s hooking two—fuck, three—fingers into you, splitting you open, curling up toward your belly; you can’t bite back the moan that breaks free.
“Hush, pet.”
Nipping at your neck, he scissors his fingers, smiling at your choked, stuttered gasp.
“Do you think I’d let anyone see how you fall apart with a few quick strokes of the fingers? How you sound? How you taste?” 
The questions are followed by his thumb pressing into the achy spot at the apex between your legs, and you don’t mention that he’s doing this with two other people sleeping soundly on the other side of the room. 
“This—” his fingers curl inside you, pressing until he finds soft flesh that makes your legs jerk. “This is all for me—mine—wouldn’t you agree?”
You nod slowly, hand clamped over your mouth to trap the sounds that keep escaping.
“Good, so we understand each other then.”
Your thighs tremble around his wrist. His fangs drag across the thin, breakable column throat, almost like a warning, catching at two identical scars that haven’t fully healed since you’ve let a feral, lost little vampire into your camp before he gives in and bites.
Digging in—messy—you imagine the dribble of red down his pale chin, how he sometimes leaves it there to savor later.
You’re limp and floating in a matter of seconds, your mind blissfully quiet for the first time in days.
“Remember that, darling, the next time someone starts giving you ideas.” After a moment, he whispers: "But I'm also happy you said no."
And he slips out of your bedroll without so much of a creak in the floorboards and out of the barn as if he was never there.
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poetsblvd · 5 months ago
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SKINCARE BABE ꪆৎ CL16
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“How do you not get confused at all?” Charles mumbles in awe of your skincare collection, staring at the jars and tubes of different sizes that sit prettily in organised containers on the large vanity of your bathroom.
You shrug, pulling him lightly by his knuckles towards a seat facing your bathroom mirror. “You get used to it, now sit!”
He smiles softly taking a seat on the cushioned stool next to yours, nodding as you pull out an array of different types of face masks to try with him.
“I have so many fun ones we can do! There’s this clay mask, this gel one, that’s a sheet mask, and then this one peels off.” A delicately manicured finger pulls out the containers and thin boxes from cabinets and lays them down in front of him.
He doesn’t quite know what you’re saying at all, the words mostly fly over his head and he doesn’t understand much of what you’re saying, except that maybe the world has far too many face masks to choose from, but he knows he can listen to you prattle on for hours on end about sheet masks, gel under eye patches, everything really, and never tire.
You hum in concentration, still looking through drawers for anything you may be missing to show him, completely unaware of your boyfriends’ attention being solely on you rather than your skincare.
“You’re so beautiful, you know?” He murmurs smiling up at you.
Your hands pause in their movements, a pretty flush creeping up your cheeks and down your neck, only endearing you more to him.
His hands come to rub at his chest unconsciously still staring at you in awe, a soft gooey feeling coating him turning his eyes into hearts and making his brain go almost numb.
‘’Tellement jolie.” He smiles, large hands carefully sliding around your waist and pulling you closer to stand in front of him, chin resting on the pretty pink silk robe that coats your body. ( so pretty )
“Mon belle amour, comment ai-je eu autant de chance?” He wonders, laughing softly when your hands bashfully come up to cover your face, french glossy nails shining in the light. ( my beautiful love, how did i get so lucky? )
“Charlie!” You whine, dragging out his name in exasperation mumbling a shy I love you, that’s incredibly well received if his ear splitting grin and giggle are anything to go by.
He tugs you onto his lap, making sure you’re comfortable, hands still woven tightly around your waist, his head in the crook of your neck, he smears a soft kiss on your shoulders and nudges you to the face masks again.
“Tell me what face mask you like the most mon beau.” You pull out a small glass pot labeled ‘volcanic clay mask’ and he fights all his inner questions down when you start rattling off its benefits of how it minimises pores and helps target fine lines?
“Okay amour, will you put it on for me?” He smiles cheesily, pushing his face forward and turning you around in his hold.
“We have to push your hair back first love.” You pull out a brand new headband from the drawer next to you and present it to him, grinning at his loud bark of laughter at the lightning mcqueen skincare headband in front of of him.
“Oh my God!”
“You like it?” You question, happiness bubbling inside you.
Nodding eagerly he lets you slip it onto his head and push back his hair “Love it! Love you, so much, Je t’aime mon coeur.”
“Je t’aime aussi Cha.”
“Wow, I am going to be the coolest in the paddock, Lightning mcqueen headband? Max is going to be so jealous.”
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love note , hi i hope you guys liked this!! i’m not the most pleased with this but i had the teeniest crumb of inspo to write and it’s 4:20 am (again) so please bear with me!! but i found the idea cute and i was struggling to put it into words, but it is what it is! also i have a bunch of reqs in my inbox that i promos i’ll get to, but i’m recovering from the most disgusting flu and have the most awful writers block, so we’ll go slow and steady!! anyways happy reading mwah xx
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tilleternitydouspart · 9 months ago
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Little Bunny Overlord Hopping Through His Forest
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In Hell’s social hierarchy, Overlords are above sinners. This is the unspoken rule that has been created since the beginning of hell itself. The elite club run by Carmilla Carmine come together when summoned to discuss and eliminate potential threats to each of the various souls they have all collected.
But a new overlord had been summoned which caused quite a few to turn their heads with confusion…: Y/n L/n The Bunny Overlord.
When heard about the latest member of their elite brand, Many members struggled to contain their laughter….But soon regretted it as a little scarlet red bunny emerged in front of them…..And bared their fangs, Biting off their fingers and ripping the flesh off the others as they hopped right back to their owner.
Only one laugh remained.
Alastor was perhaps the most sadistic of the overlords, Hiding in the shadows to find the most vulnerable souls and crafting the perfect deals to keep a tight hold of them. But who could forget that he held his position by getting rid of his fellow overlords and broadcasting their screams of agony on the radio.
So he was intrigued with this mysterious new overlord who had risen to power in 2 years before he returned. Alastor was pleased as punch when he witnessed the warning that they had brought.
The Bunny Overlord was always listening. 
In the days before the next meeting, Alastor wanted to find out more about the overlord so he sent his shadows to seek out this hidden overlord. Taking a sip of his tea from his radio booth, The shadow returned with an invitation for him, Sinking back behind him as Alastor started to read with a grin on his face.
Dearest Alastor, I am writing to inform you that I request your presence at Bunny Bliss Boutique on 10 Heartbreaker Avenue, Looking forward to your reply! I understand if you are too busy or cannot make it.  Regards Y/n L/n.
Taking a moment to adjust his bowtie, Alastor teleported to the overlord’s location, Smiling as many employees started to move out of his way, Hearing them whisper amongst themselves before going back to work as he made his way towards the front desk.
Alastor: “Hello my dear fellow, I was just in the local neighbourhood when I got this delightful invitation from your employer!, May I enter your charming establishment?”
Secretary: “Please hold on a moment sir”
Taking a moment to look around the building, Alastor noticed various bunnies hopping around, Some were flying, Others were causing objects to float around and one….seemed to be staring at him.
The same one who teared the finger off and hopped off causing the meeting to end early. 
It cautiously approached him, Jumping up onto the desk and sniffing him as Alastor picked the bunny up and held it in his arms as the secretary finished their phone-call.  
Secretary: “Sorry for the hold up sir, Miss Y/n will be waiting for you on the 6th floor in her office”
Alastor smiled, Bowing as he teleported to the 6th floor, Approaching a golden archway as two hellhounds glaring at him before beckoning him to follow. 
As they made their way into the office, Alastor took in the scenery in front of him, A waterfall feature that seemed to endlessly sparkle, A bar station that seemed to rival his own back at the hotel and finally a comfortable living area where several bunnies were watching TV. 
Alastor seemed to realise that it wasn’t a Vox-tech certified television which made him wonder how powerful this overlord was. Realising he was still holding the bunny, Alastor set the bunny down carefully, Watching as the bunny hopped over to a set of pink crystal stairs. 
??: "Miss Y/n?”
Y/n: *Distant* “Yes, What is it?”
??: "The Radio Demon is here to see you” 
Y/n: *Distant* “I’ll be right down!, Tell him to make himself at home!”
The hellhounds left him alone as he wondered over to the living area, Inspecting the Television as some of the bunnies hopped onto him with one landing on his head, Letting out a slight chuckle before noticing several magical trinkets on display.
Y/n: “I see Angelina has taken a shine on you”
Finally he was meeting the bunny overlord, The same overlord who sent one of her own to send a message and….he was speechless Why was he speechless?.
A petite bunny with short blonde hair, Small elegant horns that seemed to endlessly change colours, Her eyes shining with shades of crimson and black staring up at him as she seemed to have a bright smile on her face. 
In that moment as Y/n stood before him in her radiant attire, Draped in a glittered gold and red dress that seemed to defy the boundaries of what fashion could be in Hell, Alastor couldn't deny the aura of playfulness and elegance that surrounded Y/n as Angelina hopped into her arms, Nibbling on her long black lantern sleeves causing her to laugh. 
He was…captivated.
Y/n: “It’s such an honour to finally meet the legendary Radio Demon himself, Your broadcasts are one for the history books”
Alastor: “Well the pleasure is all mine, After all it’s not everyday in hell that I meet such a delightful creature such as yourself”
Taking her hand, He planted a small kiss on her paw, Making her blush as she bowed in front of him, Quickly noticing the remaining bunnies on him.
Y/n: “Girls!, Get off him, Show him some respect, I’m terribly sorry, They always seem to get excited when someone new comes into the office, Shall we continue our conversation upstairs?”
Alastor: "Of course, Lead the way darling”
Heading up the crystal stairs, His eyes seemed to stare at what angel would describe as cute. The dress seemed to cling to her petit figure with a touch of allure in the air, Watching her tail twitch as she gazed back at him.
Y/n: “It’s rude to stare Alastor”
Alastor: “My apologies dear, It seemed my eyes wondered off on their own”
Hearing her laugh sent pleasant shivers down his spine as they headed towards her desk as she held out a chair in front of him, Smiling as he sat down, Playfully chuckling at her as Y/n set down a teacup before sitting down in front of him. 
Y/n: “I’m truly grateful you accepted my invitation so soon Alastor, To be quite frank if I had known you were coming so soon I would have visited Rosie to see what delectables she had to offer”
Alastor: “You know Rosie?, Not many demons have the pleasure of entering Cannibal Town without being swarmed by the hoard of hungry children playing in the streets”
Y/n: “Well, I saved a few of the children from being hurt after their toy wondered into one of my districts and I made sure they got home safe, Well Rosie insisted I stay for a cup of tea and one thing let to another and we became friends” 
Alastor: “Hmm” He took a long sip of his tea as Y/n gazed at her bunnies who had followed her up and started to hop over to her desk.
Y/n: *Sighs* “Look, The reason I asked you here is…um, Is actually for a request”
Placing his cup down on the desk, Alastor smiled, Watching as Y/n gazed down at her lap with his shadow towering over her before being shooed away by Alastor as she finally looked up, Taking a deep breath before…
Y/n: “How did you gain respect?”
The sound of an audience laughing filled the office which included the sound of the Radio Demon himself, Holding himself together as she tried to remain calm but inside felt childish. This was Alastor, The infamous Radio Demon, The man who broadcasted his victims screams of agony for all eternity as a remainder on who they were dealing with.
She had to remain confident in his presence.
Alastor: “Oh, Forgive me my dear but I haven’t had a good laugh like that since the stock market crashed, Oh so many orphans”
Y/n: “..I’ve only been in power for 2 years and only recently have I gotten the ‘overlord’ position and yet… Demons think I’m a joke, A dumb bunny who probably got where I am by ‘sleeping around’ but Alastor..You’re back from being gone for 7 years and yet demons know to respect you!”
Jumping up from her seat with a smile on her face took Alastor for a shock, Her smile..It made something in his dead cold heart beat as she continued to gush about his overlord status before taking a breath, Noticing she was rambling.
Y/n: “What I’m trying to say is…Will you teach me about being an overlord?”
The Radio Demon hummed, Watching her ears twich with anticipation as most of her bunnies surrounded her before noticing the scarlet bunny known as Angelina hopped onto the desk, Sat in front of him and started to widen her eyes, His shadow appearing with a curious expression as Alastor picked up Angelina and walked over to Y/n, Her eyes widening as he bowed to her.
Alastor: “Well my dear, You’ve twisted my arm but being how you’re already the bee’s knees, I’m not quite sure how Hell isn’t fallen for your heavenly charms”
Noticing her blush, Alastor took her paw and lead her towards her balcony, Watching as many demons on the streets below started to gasp and take photos as he picked Y/n up bridal style, Smiling as Y/n could only stare at the large crowd growing down below. 
Y/n: “Umm Alastor?, Forgive me for saying this but…How is this helping me be an overlord?”  
Spinning her around before taking her back in, Alastor set Y/n down aware of her confused expression, Adjusting his bowtie before making a bouquet made of gorgeous white snapdragons appear.
Alastor: “My dear, It is quite simple....and one lesson my darling mother taught me” 
With the help of his shadow, Alastor used his magic to create a small box engraved with a crisscross heart with symbols surrounding it, Grinning up at her.
Alastor: “Always treat your bride with love and respect”
A/n: The ending is horrible I know!! but yeah, I hope you enjoyed this, May make a part 2 in the future!.
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kingofbodyrolls · 11 months ago
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Stuck in a Snowstorm (m) | pjm
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You don’t know how you ended up here. Stuck with your mortal enemy, Park Jimin, in you car – in a fucking snowstorm.
→ Pairing: Jimin x female reader → AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut. → Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact. → Word count: 6,1k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Jimin is just a mean jerk and reader is a brat 😂 Lots of banter, crack and anger towards each other. → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex, dirty talk, orgasm denial/delay, hair pulling, oral (female and male receiving), breasts and nipple play. Also, use of a tie 👀 → Author’s note: This is actually a story that I planned to write all the way back in 2017 – better late than never, right? 😂 I had only made the plot with some outline, so I basically started from scrap. But it had been stuck in my mind since FOREVER and now I just miss Jimin a shit ton, so I made this. I hope you enjoy it! Also, it shouldn’t be taken too seriously, it’s just smut with minimal plot and don’t question the characters bad actions or some minor plot holes 😂 (Also, I did not proofread this, just because). Also, merry Christmas / happy holidays – this is my gift to you wonderful people out there 💜AND are you guys looking forward to Jimin’s ‘Closer than This’ tomorrow???? 💜
If you prefer to read on AO3 you can read it here 😀
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[s.masterlist] → this is part of a mini series ‘The Winter Collection’, but it can be read as a stand alone (as can all the installments in the series).
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“I can’t believe this…” in disbelief, you mutter, your voice tinged with uncertainty, while you desperately activate the windshield wiper, yearning for even a fleeting glimpse through the thick curtain of falling snow.
“I can,” Jimin declares from his spot beside you in the passenger seat. His playful critique follows swiftly, delivered with a pout and a firm voice, as he shakes his head in mock disbelief, “You're a terrible driver.”
“Am not!” you retort defiantly, your voice cutting through the air, even as your unwavering gaze remains fixed on the snowy expanse ahead.
A curtain of thick snow descends, veiling everything in an opaque white shroud. The road ahead is swallowed by the relentless onslaught, turning visibility into an elusive challenge.
Your hands clench the wheel with a vice-like grip, the strain evident as your knuckles whiten under the pressure. The tension in your entire body is so palpable that it hurts to fucking drive.
Exhaustion weighs on you heavily, a relentless burden, yet the realization hits that you're only halfway to your friends' Christmas party. Two more hours loom ahead, a daunting stretch of time spent in the company of Park Jimin, your sworn enemy.
The decision to share a car ride is a mystery even to yourself; perhaps it was a fleeting concern for the planet, a noble intention to save fuel by consolidating into one vehicle. Yet, as the journey unfolds, the real reasons behind your choice become an enigma.
Regret courses through you like a bitter undercurrent as you ponder the altruistic intentions behind considering the planet and the environment. The thought of advising Jimin to take his own car nags at you, a missed opportunity for a peaceful solo drive. In a self-cursing moment, you rue your own kindness.
“Let me drive; I’m a better driver than you anyway.” Jimin declares with casual confidence, his tone carrying an air of nonchalance.
“Fuck off, Jimin!” you hiss, frustration dripping from your words like venom.
You squint against the relentless assault of heavy snow, the world outside morphing into an indistinct blur as visibility dwindles.
Your pace is deliberate, a cautious dance with the road, but after several minutes, you relent, succumbing to the inevitable by slowing down even further.
“Fine!” you declare, seizing the steering wheel in a determined clench, bringing the car to an abrupt halt.
You pivot your gaze towards Jimin, the words cutting through the tension, “You fucking drive then.”
Shifting the car into park, you unclip your seatbelt with a determined click, swing the door open, and brave the biting embrace of the freezing snowstorm outside.
In synchronized movements, Jimin mirrors your actions, and together, you step out into the frigid air. The two of you converge outside, a silent agreement palpable in the crunch of snow beneath your feet, as you navigate around the car, preparing to swap seats.
“If you crash my car, I’ll kill you.” you menace, venom seeping through your words as you stride past him, positioning yourself in front of the vehicle.
He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, a smug satisfaction evident in his demeanor, relishing the fact that you've conceded to let him take the wheel.
Jimin confidently eases his plump figure into the driver's seat, and you avert your gaze (definitely not looking!). With a self-assured demeanor, he expertly adjusts the seat to accommodate his frame.
You attempt to thaw your chilled hands under the blast of hot air from the air conditioner, the sour mood hanging heavy around you as you settle into the passenger seat, donning a visible pout.
“Relax, I’m not gonna crash your precious car,” he teases, the playfulness evident in his voice, just before smoothly shifting the car into gear and forging ahead.
In response, a huff escapes your lips, arms instinctively crossing in a silent declaration of your lingering displeasure.
You surrender to a sense of ease as Jimin takes the wheel, his deliberate pace aligning with caution. It's a mutual understanding — in this snow-laden terrain, slow and steady becomes a shared creed for safety.
The once teasing atmosphere now gives way to palpable tension, the air thick with the weight of swirling snow that has intensified. Jimin, too, struggles visibly against the heavier onslaught, the challenge of navigating through the snow turning the car into a place of shared unease.
Your gaze fixates on Jimin, observing as his fingers clench the steering wheel with a tension mirroring your own, and his shoulders stiffen in sync. A chuckle escapes you, unexpectedly audible, as you notice the ironic similarity between his reaction and your earlier demeanor.
“What’s so funny?” Jimin spits, the tension reverberating unmistakably in his voice, each word a note in the symphony of strained emotions.
“Your driving,” you start to chuckle, the amusement laced with a hint of mischief.
“You're not exactly outclassing my skills,” you declare, sinking into the seat with a self-assured smirk, relishing the satisfaction of your own driving prowess.
“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” he seethes, the words charged with anger, his gaze sharply turning towards you, locking onto your eyes.
Despite Jimin's cautious speed, the car subtly veers, casting doubt on whether you're still on the road or lost in the oblivion of the thick snow. The blinding white landscape offers no clarity, leaving you uncertain and immersed in a disorienting wintry haze.
“I can’t see fucking shit!” he exclaims, abruptly bringing the car to a halt and cutting the engine in an instant, plunging you both into an eerie silence amid the obscured surroundings.
Your gaze locks onto him, urgency etched across your face. “What are you doing? We've got Seokjin's Christmas party in less than an hour!” The frustration in your voice reverberates, a ticking clock amplifying the stakes of the impending deadline.
“It’s not safe to drive in this freaking snowstorm!” he bellows in response, frustration escalating in his voice, punctuated by the sharp flick of the hazard warning lights, signaling the urgency and danger of the situation.
“I just want to get there already. I'd rather not be stuck with you,” you seethe, teeth gritted, a visible huff escaping in a cloud of anger. The tension hangs heavy, fueled by the biting words that linger in the now frosty air.
“Like I'd willingly be stuck with your sour attitude,” he retorts, his gaze sweeping you from head to toe for some inscrutable reason. “I don't even like you,” he declares, the words loaded with an unspoken tension that hangs in the frosty air between you two.
You gape at him, the bitter truth resonating in the air—an unspoken agreement that neither of you harbors any liking for the other. The animosity between you has solidified into a hostile dynamic, despite the shared circle of friends that consistently throws you together, much to your enduring displeasure.
Jimin exudes an infuriating level of cockiness, ceaselessly pushing your buttons and expertly tapping into the art of annoyance until it feels like your nerves are unraveling at his mere presence.
You'd willingly brave the biting cold rather than endure the prospect of an unpredictable future confined with him inside the car. Fate seems to revel in mocking you, as the car rapidly succumbs to the encroaching chill, each passing minute intensifying the unwelcome cold that now permeates the confined space.
You clutch your arms tightly around your body, desperately running your hands up and down in a futile attempt to gather some warmth. A curse slips from your lips as you question your own sanity—why in the world did you take off your jacket for the drive? Now it's trapped in the damn trunk, and the thought of braving the freezing cold to retrieve it is utterly unappealing.
“Cold?” he chuckles, the sound carrying an edge of amusement that only amplifies the chill sinking into your bones.
You nod your head.
“Well, I’m not giving you my jacket,” he states matter-of-factly, cocooning himself in the evident warmth of his puffer jacket. Damn Park Jimin and his infuriating nonchalance, he's truly a master of being a jerk!
“Can't even manage a simple act of kindness,” you mutter with disdain, the words escaping in a sharp hiss, a low and almost grumbling tone, accompanied by a dismissive eye roll.
“What's that?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, relishing the snug warmth of his jacket while you shiver in the cold. 
“Fuck you, Park!” you shout directly in his face, your words laced with frustration. Instead of a retort, he just chuckles, the sound taking on a manic edge that lingers in the frosty air, leaving an unsettling resonance to your heated exchange.
An indeterminate amount of time slips away, lost in the relentless snowfall that shows no sign of relenting. Frustration building, you reach for your phone and decide to text Seokjin, realizing that this damn snow isn't planning on letting up anytime soon.
You [15.42]: Stuck in a snowstorm with fucking Park Jimin. I don’t know when we’ll arrive 🙄
Jin [15.48]: Just stay safe 😂
Fuck Seokjin! You’re convinced that he’s somewhere enjoying a good laugh at your misfortune.
A surge of realization hits you like a bolt of inspiration—there's a blanket tucked away in the backseat. Swiftly moving up, you make your way to the center console.
“What’re you doing?” Jimin questions, his curiosity evident in the quirk of his eyebrow as you navigate over the center console, leaving him bewildered by your sudden, mysterious movements.
“There's a blanket back here,” you announce triumphantly, finally laying hands on the sought-after comfort. With a satisfying plop into the seat, you tug the blanket snugly over your cold body, a gesture that transforms the atmosphere within the car from chilly discomfort to a brief oasis of warmth.
After a few contemplative minutes, Jimin breaks the silence with a question that hangs in the air, “Mind if I join you?”
Your mouth falls agape, and your eyes widen in astonishment at his unexpected question. Collecting yourself, you respond with a hint of sarcasm, “You weren't keen on sharing your jacket with me. What makes you think I'd be willing to share my blanket with you?” The tension between you and Jimin escalates with each word, hanging palpably in the cold air.
Without a pause for your response, he defies the silence, navigating over the center console with the same determined crawl you had exhibited moments before. The unspoken tension between you both amplifies, turning the confined space into an arena of silent rivalry.
Seated beside you, he makes a grab for the blanket cocooning your shivering form. Resolute, you refuse to surrender it, your hands engaging in a tug of war with him.
“Share, you brat,” he hisses with a mix of irritation and amusement, his determination evident in the forceful tug at the blanket. 
“No!” you hiss back defiantly, the word laced with a stubborn refusal as you hold your ground.
With a forceful yank, he wrenches the blanket from your grasp, and in the struggle, he ends up with it draped across his lap. The victorious outcome of the skirmish leaves a charged atmosphere between you and Jimin, the warmth of the blanket now a coveted prize in his possession.
A triumphant smirk plays on his lips as he envelops himself in the captured blanket. His eyes lock onto your moping expression before descending further, a mischievous gleam indicating that his victory goes beyond the simple conquest of the blanket. 
“I can totally see your nipples,” he chuckles. 
You glance down, and sure enough, your nipples stand out against the satin material of your dress. Swiftly, you react, pressing your hands over your breasts in a sudden move to conceal their visibility. 
“Why the fuck are you look at my tits?” you yell at him, your frustration audible, but he merely chuckles in response. 
“You must really be freezing, huh?” he observes, and you simply nod in agreement, a silent acknowledgment of the biting cold that permeates the confined space. 
“I can warm you up,” he suggests with a playful wink, both eyes and eyebrows conspiring in unison. The underlying implication of his words hangs in the air, and you instantly grasp the nature of his playful proposition.
“I'm not that desperate, Park,” you scoff with a hint of disgust, the rejection laced with a prideful undertone. In response, he simply chuckles, finding amusement in your candid dismissal.
Following his suggestive remark, an electric charge seems to surge through the atmosphere in the car. Your mind involuntarily races, envisioning the prospect of warming up next to him, his hands tracing every contour of your body,  his di—
Stop. You admonish yourself sternly, a mental command to cease the vivid thoughts involving him. He's your enemy, you remind yourself, emphasizing the intense dislike you harbor for Park Jimin. The internal conflict heightens, the struggle between attraction and animosity weaving a complex web within your mind.
His chuckle resonates beside you, a sound that grates on your nerves. Irritation mounts, and you sharply turn your head towards him, your annoyance evident in the flicker of your gaze. 
“Need help?” he inquires, his gaze suddenly deepening, the darkness in his eyes unveiling a subtle intensity that lingers in the air. 
“With what?” you spit back at him, the confusion evident in your tone. 
“You're grinding against the seat,” he bluntly points out, his gaze fixed on your crotch. You glance down, discovering your unconscious movement against the fabric of the seat. A sudden realization dawns, and an expletive slips from your lips. 
A wave of discomfort washes over you, an intense desire to squirm and disappear into the ground, engulfed by the embarrassment that now saturates the air. The profound sense of shame hangs heavy, making the moment so excruciatingly humiliating.
You inhale sharply, drawing in a breath that seems to shudder through you, and with a deliberate move, you roll your hips once more.
“No…” you murmur, the word escaping with a shaky uncertainty that even your own ears can detect. 
Jimin scoots closer to you, the warmth radiating from his body sending sparks that seem to dance through yours. 
He leans into you, his mouth dangerously close to your ear, and in a breathy whisper, he offers, “I can help you with that.”
His words alone send a jolt through your body, a sudden tightening that ignites a fiery sensation. Damn it. The internal conflict and desire entwine, creating a tumultuous storm within you in the presence of him. It's undeniable—your entire being yearns for the touch you never thought you'd crave. 
His warm hand finds its way to your thigh, and a low moan escapes your lips at the contact. Fuck. 
His hand ventures down to the hem of your dress, grabbing and pulling it back to expose more of your thighs. A shiver runs down your spine as the cold air embraces your newly exposed skin, and a hiss escapes your lips. However, the sensation is quickly replaced by a different kind of warmth as his hand cups your clothed core. A breathless expletive escapes your lips, leaving your mind in a blissful blank state.
Instantly, you feel the warmth of his hand intimately against you, and your head falls back against the seat involuntarily. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you respond to the touch, unable to resist rolling your hips into the sensation.
“You’re needy,” he breathes against your ear, the words carrying a provocative weight that reverberates through you. 
His warm breath sends a cascade of shivers down your spine, clouding your thoughts in a haze of desire. The desire for release intensifies, eclipsing any reservations you may have about seeking it from your mortal enemy. 
“Shut up and just touch me,” you utter in frustration, the words punctuated by the deliberate grind of your hips into his hand, a desperate quest for any kind of friction. You're acutely aware of the desperation seeping through your actions, but at this moment, you don’t give a fuck.
And touch you he does. His fingers begin to rub your clit over the fabric of your panties, and you don't hold back your moans.
Your hips gyrate, a rhythmic dance in pursuit of your impending orgasm. The sensation builds rapidly, a cascade of pleasure on the brink. The question lingers in your mind—why does your body respond so eagerly to his touch?
He tugs your panties to the side, his touch on your clit eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. The warmth of his fingers against your skin amplifies the sensation, and you're already soaked.
“You're so wet already,” he chuckles against your ear, his lips teasingly grazing your skin. The desire to retaliate surges within you, but then, with a sudden and deliberate movement, one of his fingers enters your pussy, stealing your breath away.
He skillfully fingers you with one finger, the motion of his wrist simultaneously stroking against your clit, creating a sensation that's nothing short of delicious. The desire for more intensifies, an insatiable craving building within you.
“More,” you breathe, your voice escaping chapped and laden with a raw, lustful edge. 
Jimin adds one more digit, and you relish in the precision with which he finds your soft spot, hitting it perfectly.
“Are you gonna come on my fingers?” he whispers in your ear, the suggestive question sending an instant jolt through your body, a yearning for more. 
A throaty moan escapes your lips as you willingly spread your legs wider, granting him more space.
He deftly introduces a third finger into you, and you feel yourself losing control, swept away by the overwhelming pleasure. It's already so good—how is he so skilled with his fingers?
The way he skillfully uses his fingers inside you while simultaneously rubbing your clit with his wrist propels you relentlessly toward the precipice of climax. The knot in your stomach tightens, and you're on the verge of that intoxicating release.
“Jimin, fuck. I'm gonna come soon,” you pant, the urgency in your voice underscored by the rhythmic grind of your pussy against his hand. 
He accelerates the pace of his fingers inside you, bringing you to the brink, but just as your body teeters on the edge of release, he abruptly withdraws his fingers and hand altogether.
His fingers and hand vanish, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. The abrupt absence intensifies the frustration and desire you feel surge through your body. Fuck!
Your legs tremble beneath you, and a frustrated hiss escapes your lips as you pant for breath.
“You didn't want to share the blanket,” he spews, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your evident frustration.
You're on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger. The desperate desire for release compounds the emotional turmoil within you. The audacity of him! The frustration boils over, cementing Jimin as nothing short of a fucking jerk in your mind.
“I'm not letting you come unless you beg for it,” he adds in a smug voice, a smirk playing on his lips as he purposefully puts some distance between you. 
You can't believe him. The brink of pleasure was within reach—just a few more rubs and you would have unraveled on his fingers. The yearning is palpable, a frustrating ache that intensifies with each passing moment. 
You growl at him, caught in a heated internal debate about whether to plead with him or not. 
Your pussy clenches around emptiness, a visceral reminder of your desperation.
“Please, Jimin. Please let me come,” you implore, locking eyes with him and turning your body toward him. The desperation in your gaze is palpable. Almost inadvertently, you press your chest closer, your stiff nipples drawing his gaze downward.
He licks his lips teasingly, a wicked glint in his eyes, before seizing your hips and drawing you irresistibly toward him. With a swift yet controlled motion, he manipulates your body, guiding you to lie on the seat. As you settle into the unexpected position, he chuckles at the genuine confusion etched across your face.
“Because you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and in a bold move, he shoves your dress up to your stomach. With swift precision, he snatches your panties, sliding them down your legs. “I'll give you what you want.”
He discards your panties with a deliberate flick, his focus unwavering as he plunges down to your throbbing pussy. There's no hesitation; he immediately delves into licking at your folds and clit with a hunger that matches your own. 
Your body instinctively arches off the length of the seat, a wave of pleasure coursing through you. It feels unbelievably good. In the heat of the moment, your hands find his hair, fingers gripping and pulling at the strands, eliciting a guttural groan from him. 
Your muscles tighten, and the echoes of the previous orgasm, forcefully ripped from you, return with an intensity that feels tenfold. Each breath is a furious pant as he continues to lap at your folds, the relentless pleasure building and intertwining with your gasps. 
Then, with a skillful touch, he adds a finger to your clit, rubbing it in tantalizing circles. Your senses heighten, and just as you succumb to the pleasure, he skillfully continues to ravish your entrance with his tongue. 
“Jimin!” you scream his name, a raw and unrestrained cry escaping your lips as you reach the peak of ecstasy on his tongue. Your body tightens, toes curling, and you involuntarily hitch your heels against his legs. In the throes of pleasure, your vision blurs, and you fight for air.
He chuckles, a throaty sound that reverberates in the aftermath of your high. Not giving you a moment to fully come down, he skillfully inserts two of his fingers inside you, drawing a hiss from your lips at the touch—your body rendered oversensitive.
He extends his fingers, proudly displaying them, glistening with your intimate juices. A wicked glint in his eyes, he issues a command, “Clean them.” 
You meet his gaze defiantly, a spark of challenge in your eyes, before obediently rising to carry out his command. Taking hold of his hand, you sensually draw his slick digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them like a provocative dance. Your eyes lock onto his, witnessing the raw desire in his gaze as you release his fingers with an audible ‘pop’.
“I hate you,” you declare, breathless, the words carrying a mixture of frustration and desire. His response is a low chuckle, his perceptive gaze catching the teasing glint in your eyes.
He leans back, a provocative smirk playing on his lips, and starts palming himself through his dress pants. Your eyes involuntarily follow the movement of his hands, and a jolt of desire courses through you as you realize he's already rock hard. The unmistakable bulge strains against his pants, a visual testament to the arousal simmering between you two. 
“I can help you with that,” you purr, a sultry promise lingering in your eyes, eager to reciprocate the pleasure.
He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and smoothly turns his body to fully face you. With a teasing smirk, he unzips his pants, skillfully pulling down both his trousers and underwear enough to liberate his hardened dick.
His cock springs free, defiantly brushing against the bottom of his loosened tie, a sight that's undeniably tantalizing. Perfectly sculpted, it's veiny and slightly flushed at the tip, mirroring the allure of every inch of him. A surge of conflicting emotions overwhelms you – the hate, the desire, the acknowledgment of his undeniable appeal. You despise how effortlessly good-looking he is, from the tousled blonde locks to those lips you now crave to taste. 
However, your gaze returns to his dick, noting its average size but with a satisfying girth that catches your attention. A subtle hint of anticipation flickers in your eyes, and your tongue instinctively darts out to moisten your lips. 
“Then get to work,” he pants, a breathy command, as he sensually spreads his legs, creating an inviting space for you. 
You descend eagerly, ensuring your mouth is generously coated with saliva before you engulf him, starting with just the tip. 
He hisses the moment your lips meet his dick, his head instinctively colliding with the window behind him, an involuntary exclamation escaping, “Ah, fuck.”
You engulf more of him, your mouth descending entirely, and the sound of his primal moan reverberates in response. You add a sultry hum, a note of satisfaction coursing through you.
You initiate a slow, deliberate pace, skillfully sucking him off, and anything beyond your mouth's capacity, you sensually stroke with your hand. 
His hands seek out your hair, effortlessly capturing the neatly arranged high ponytail that he grasps with a possessive confidence. 
You revel in the subtle tension, accelerating your descent on him with a newfound urgency. Your tongue skillfully traces intricate patterns, dancing across his tip and the sensitive folds of his frenulum.
He moans in ecstasy as you withdraw with a satisfying ‘pop,’ only to treat the head of his throbbing dick like a tempting lollipop, your tongue swirling around it with deliberate sensuality.
As you glance up at him, he appears utterly lost in the moment. His eyes, once vibrant, are now dilated orbs of desire, his parted lips releasing audible breaths. The state of bliss enveloping him transforms his features into a breathtaking display of vulnerability and beauty.
You envelop him once more, relishing the subtle tremor that courses through him, a tangible response to the sensations you're skillfully orchestrating with your lips and tongue.
He yanks you away from him, his voice a raw whisper laden with desire, “I want to fuck you.”
You prop yourself up, captivated by the transformation before you. The usual arrogant Park Jimin is replaced by this vulnerable, needy version, and against your better judgment, a desperate craving for him builds inside you. You ache for him to consume you entirely.
A mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you echo his earlier taunts, “Beg for it,” you challenge, aware of the palpable tension between you, a shared desire pulsating in the charged air.
A low, throaty chuckle escapes him as his fingers glide through the tousled strands of his blonde hair, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re really a fucking brat,” he hisses, a smirk playing on his lips.
He sits up, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he sheds his open jacket, the confined warmth of the car now turning uncomfortably sweltering. You can't help but acknowledge the irony; at least you're not freezing anymore, which, after all, was the primary objective of this unexpected detour, wasn't it?
“Please let me fuck you,” his plea hangs in the air, a desperate echo of your own request, and you can't help but chuckle, slowly crawling closer to him.
“Turn around, let me straddle you. Leaning against the headrest will give us more space,” you suggest, and he shifts in an instant, his arousal evident in the casual sway of his dick with each movement.
Then you confidently straddle him, your hand instinctively reaching for his dick, guiding him to align perfectly with your eager entrance.
Before you lower yourself onto him, you sensually trail his dick through your wetness, relishing in the intimate friction. A moan escapes your lips as you then descend onto his lap in one smooth, sultry motion.
The exquisite stretch sends a shiver down your spine, and he effortlessly glides in, eliciting a breathless ‘Fuck!’ from your lips.
As your hands find their place on his shoulders for support, his eyes, now hooded, follow your every movement as you begin to ride him with a rhythm that echoes the passion pulsing between you.
You pant furiously, your breath hot against his face. The sensation of him inside you is nothing short of heavenly, an electrifying connection that feels as if every contour of him aligns perfectly with every curve of your pussy.
“Ah,” ecstasy courses through you with each fervent bounce on his throbbing length, a harmonious rhythm of pleasure escaping your lips in breathless gasps.
“You’re so tight,” his ragged breaths synchronize with the rhythmic clench of your walls, his hands anchoring to your hips, adding an electrifying intensity to each blissful plunge into your velvet warmth.
Between gasps, you manage to growl, “Fuck. I hate you,” only to be met with his deep, throaty chuckle as he continues the relentless rhythm of his thrusts, each one a tumultuous clash of conflicting desires.
Amidst heavy breaths, he accuses, “I know you're lying,” his words punctuated by the rhythmic tempo of his panting. Undeterred, he leans in for a searing kiss, his lips caressing yours with a softness akin to pillows. Your defenses crumble as you melt into his touch, tongues colliding in a fervent dance that defies the lingering tension.
“Why is it that you feel so damn good?” you gasp, interrupting the kiss only to plunge back into its intoxicating depths. Each moment spent in his embrace feels like a surrender to a passionate whirlwind. His every thrust reverberates through you, sending electrifying shivers down your spine, an exquisite dance of pleasure and desire that you find impossible to resist.
“Perhaps I should prolong your climax, just as you did to me?” you purr with a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, resurrecting the playful brat within you.
He chuckles, his hands leaving the curve of your hips to gracefully undo his tie at his neck. Your gaze fixates on him, observing each deliberate move as he frees himself from the constriction of the tie, all while you continue to ride him with an unabashed hunger.
“You really are a fucking brat,” he mutters, the corners of his lips quirking into a sly smile as he pulls off his tie. “Now, shut up,” he commands, silencing any potential retorts by expertly stuffing the tie into your open, protesting mouth.
You yield to the makeshift gag, sinking your teeth into the fabric, muffling the symphony of your own desperate moans.
A smirk plays on his lips as his hands reclaim your hips, commanding, “Now take it like the fucking brat that you are.”
His movements become a relentless rhythm, thrusting deep inside you. All you can do is cling to his shoulders, swept away by the force of his desire.
Ecstasy courses through you, and you can't help but moan into the fabric of his tie. It feels too damn good to contain.
His voice drips with satisfaction as he senses your walls tightening around him, and a smug grin plays on his lips. “You like that, huh?”
A guttural moan escapes your lips in response, the crescendo of pleasure building, and you sense the impending climax drawing near.
“Fuck yourself on my dick,” his command hangs in the air, thick with desire, as his hands abandon your hips, embarking on a journey down your back. With a swift motion, he unzips your dress, letting it cascade down your shoulders.
Your naked breasts dances to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, an erotic ballet of passion and desire.
“Fuck. You’re not wearing a bra, just like I thought,” his eyes widen in delighted surprise, a devilish grin playing on his lips. His hands eagerly exploring the contours of your exposed tits.
His words hang in the air, sending a shiver down your spine. “Your tits are beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns around your stiffened nipples. Your body reacts instinctively, a primal moan escaping through the tie as desire courses through you.
Every grind and movement becomes a challenge as he expertly tweaks and pulls at your nipples, sending waves of pleasure and distraction through your body. You fight to maintain a rhythm, desperately trying to pleasure yourself on his dick amidst the electrifying sensations dancing across your chest.
As your walls clench around him, a whirlwind of sensations floods your body, signaling that the peak of pleasure is just a breath away. Every nerve is on edge, and the anticipation of an imminent climax tingles through you, a storm about to erupt.
As he skillfully massages your tits, he breathlessly teases, “You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” his words send shivers down your spine, intensifying the pleasure that's building within you.
With a fervent nod, you surrender to the sensations, your muffled moans echoing through the tie as pleasure courses through every inch of your being.
As he plunges into you, he urges you with a guttural command, “Cream my cock, brat.” The raw desire in his voice fuels the intensity of your connection, igniting a blaze of passion.
Overwhelmed by desire, his dick finding every exquisite spot within you, you unleash a guttural moan, your pleasure echoing into the fabric of the tie as you climax on his pulsating cock.
Jimin's fingers twist around your hardened nipples, sending electric shocks of ecstasy through your body. A guttural exclamation escapes your lips, muffled by the tie, as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.
He pounds into you relentlessly, the rhythm building towards an intense climax. His hands firmly grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he desperately seeks his own release.
He reaches the peak of ecstasy, his body shuddering with the force of his release as he spills into the warmth of your pussy.
Heaving for breath, the silence between you two speaks volumes, a shared understanding lingering in the air as you descend from the euphoric heights of your climaxes.
Collapsing onto his chest, you revel in the soothing aftermath, liberated from the restraint of his tie. As his body relaxes within you, the intimacy lingers, a tangible connection forged in the heat of passion.
His lips graze your neck with a gentle touch, igniting a cascade of thoughts about the significance behind this tender gesture.
As laughter fills the air, shattering the lingering tension, your attention shifts to the foggy windows and the oppressive heaviness in the car, making each breath a deliberate act.
As you hastily redress, Jimin slips into his jacket and steps out of the car, retrieving your coat from the trunk. With a gentle handoff, he passes it to you, and you quickly slip into its comforting warmth.
“Thank you,” your gratitude escapes in a hushed whisper, laden with a touch of bewilderment. The encounter, while undeniably electrifying, leaves you grappling with conflicting emotions. It's Park Jimin, your sworn adversary, and the intensity of the shared moment hangs between you, a paradox of pleasure and rivalry.
“You’re welcome,” his response carries a self-assured smirk, echoing the lingering traces of the shared intimacy. As he confidently returns to the driver's seat, you mirror his actions, settling into the passenger's seat, both enveloped in a charged silence that speaks volumes.
The snowfall has eased, no longer as relentless as before. A subtle nostalgia creeps in as you reflect on his desire to keep you warm. The gentle flakes now fall, leaving you yearning for the lingering warmth of his touch.
As he revs the engine to life, a gust of chilly air sweeps through the car, causing you to emit an involuntary grunt. His chuckle fills the cabin, accompanied by a smirk and a teasing wink. “I can warm you up anytime,”
You shoot him a moping gaze, wondering if he has a knack for deciphering your thoughts. Can he sense the magnetic pull, the unspoken attraction that mirrors your own inner turmoil?
You return his smile, a silent agreement resonating between you as he steers the car forward, setting the wheels and unspoken possibilities in motion.
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Three hours fashionably late, you finally arrive at Seokjin's Christmas party. The distant hum of music greets you as you step out of the car, signaling that the celebration is already in full swing.
As you rap your knuckles against the door, you steal a glance at Jimin who's busy adjusting his attire. His fingers deftly tighten the knot of his tie, and his pants get a quick, inconspicuous tug into place.
As Seokjin swings the door open, a tantalizing waft of mouthwatering aromas envelops your senses, instantly sparking a smile on your face.
Seokjin's laughter echoes as he playfully accuses, “You fucked Jimin!” and your jaw drops in disbelief to the floor.
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flemingsfreckles · 8 months ago
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Better Boyfriend than Him pt.2 (18+)
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Read Part 1
Preview: You can’t stop thinking about Jessie after she proves she’s better in bed than your current boyfriend. You decide to tell her. (Inspired by the song Boyfriend by Dove Cameron)
Warnings: SMUT (18+) frat boy Jessie vibes, oral sex (r receiving), strap on sex (r receiving), masturbation, tit sucking, hickeys, swearing, very small mention to sex with men, the whole 9 yards folks.
WC: 6.0k
A/N: my plan was to end this series here but if there’s enough requests I can try and continue it, I just might need some suggestions/guidance on where to take it.
You couldn’t stop thinking about Jessie. Specifically you couldn’t stop thinking about how good she had been able to make you feel, how good it had felt to have her fingers deep inside of you, how her tongue felt on your nipples and on your clit, how it felt being under her gaze. She had been so attentive to you, paying attention to every movement and noise you made. How she had been able to make you come undone so easily with just her touch. The sights and sounds of your night together wouldn’t leave your mind.
She was in your mind all day every day, even when you were sleeping. You had woken up more days than not the past week with your core throbbing and a wet spot forming on your underwear. In an attempt to push her from your mind you’d either take a cold shower or throw on your shoes and gone for a run, punishing yourself for the thoughts.
Today was different, you were so tired of the cold showers and the running, but once again you had woken up after vividly dreaming of Jessie holding your legs open as she worked her tongue against you.
It’s not like she’d know, you thought, she’d have no idea, there’s no harm to it. You reached down, pushing your shorts and underwear off, you could feel the way the fabric clung to you for a second, your wetness holding it every so slightly. Abandoning your lower half temporarily you moved both hands up to your chest, letting your fingers gently graze over your nipples. Trying your best to copy what Jessie had done to you, you gently drew circles, feeling them harden under your touch, it felt good but not as good as when she did it. You placed your thumb in your mouth, wetting it before returning it to your nipple, a better sensation as your spit allowed your thumb to glide closer to the movements of Jessie’s tongue.
You closed your eyes, picturing Jessie straddling your waist, her weight holding your hips down as her rough fingertips played with you. You continued to play with your chest, a mixture of pinching, rolling, teasing, until you had had enough and you could feel the arousal between your legs begin to seep onto the bed sheet below you.
You let your right hand slide down your stomach, moving two fingers to collect your wetness, dragging it up toward your clit. Your fingers stayed against your clit and you began circling it, only applying the slightest bit of pressure. You were trying your best to mimic Jessie’s tongue, her tongue was warm, wet, and had mastered the art of pleasure, your fingers had not.
You had done this before, you knew you could eventually get yourself off just rubbing your clit, but that felt so boring after your night with Jessie. You were desperately missing the suction her lips had provided alongside her tongue, something you couldn’t replicate on your own.
You missed her fingers too. You moved your other hand down from your chest, your ring and middle finger finding the opening of your pussy and sliding them in. You felt yourself clench around your fingers in the same way you had Jessie’s. You continue pushing them in until you’re completely inside. Attempting to mimic Jessie movements you just start with curling your fingers, leaving them buried inside of you. It feels good, a small pressure building inside your stomach. You looked down at your hands, wishing you were looking back at Jessie’s brown eyes, her messy hair, her hands gripping onto your thighs. Just picturing her has your walls clenching tighter on your fingers. You let out a moan at the thought of her.
The previous shame you felt about fantasizing about your best friend while you touched yourself was long gone, you kept your eyes closed, imagining your hands were hers, trying to remember the feeling of her body weight on yours. Imagination running wild you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining her, now naked in your fantasy, being the one thrusting her fingers into you. You pictured the small sheen of sweat covering her face and chest, the feeling of her toned body under your hands, the way she’d look down at you, holding herself above your body as she pleased you. Picturing your name falling from her lips in a moan as she fucked you was all you needed to push yourself over the edge.
You felt your orgasm come over you, a small whimper coming from your mouth as you bit down hard on your bottom lip. You pull your fingers off of your clit before you become too sensitive. You gently remove your fingers, feeling a wet trail connecting your fingers to your pussy, you wipe your fingers off on the inside of your thigh, deciding you’ll shower anyway before starting the day. Your orgasm was good, but nowhere near as satisfying as the one Jessie had been able to pull from you. You desperately wanted to feel that again.
You stay laying down in bed, catching your breath only to be brought completely out of your fantasy as your phone begins to ring on the nightstand next to you. Rolling your eyes at the irony, it’s Jessie’s face and name staring back at you.
“What’s up?” You answer overthinking how you usually would answer the phone when she called.
“Are you alright?” She questions you.
“Yeah why?”
“You sound out of breath, what are you doing?”
“Um,” you think for a second, it’s not like you could tell her you had just finished masturbating to the thought of her, “ I’m working out.”
“In your apartment?” You cursed yourself for giving her your location.
“Yeah.” The line goes quiet for a second.
“Oh gross, did you just finish having sex with him?! Is that why you’re out of breath? I thought you ended it.” Jessie whispers into the phone, thinking your ex-boyfriend was potentially laying next to you within earshot.
“I am, I did. I did end it.”
“Are you already fucking someone else?” You note a twinge of jealousy in her voice.
“Oh my god Jessie, no there’s no one else here.”
“Oh a little solo action then?” You can practically hear the teasing look on her face, how both of her eyebrows would be raised, her lips in a small smirk. When you don’t respond immediately she lets out a small laugh and in a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance floods your body. You hate that she figured it out, you also hated that she had laughed. You impulsively press the red button, hanging up on her before tossing your phone to the side and letting out a frustrated groan.
You realize that maybe you should’ve kept lying, hanging up just gave Jessie the confirmation that she had called you while you were touching yourself.
Looking down you’re still naked, your fingers and thigh still slightly covered in your own slick. The embarrassment and slight shame came creeping back in and you quickly grabbed the sheet covering yourself up. You feel the phone vibrate reaching over to look at what she had sent.
Jessie 🦖: When you’re done thinking of how good I fucked you, wash your hands and then call me back.
You: You wish I was thinking of you.
You do as she says and pull yourself from the bed and go into the bathroom to wipe off the remaining arousal between your legs and wash your hands. You throw on a clean pair of panties and grab a pair of sweatpants from your closet. Picking up your phone you click her contact to redial her.
“That was quick.”
“I was already done when you called me.”
“Then why’d you hang up?”
“I don’t know, I just did.” You knew why you hung up, you just weren’t interested in admitting it to her.
“What are you doing right now, besides dreaming of me?”
“Holy shit if I knew you and your ego were going to be insufferable afterwards, I would’ve kept my legs shut.” Her ego had always been big around her talents in bed, it was just more annoying now that you knew they were as good as she had claimed and that she could directly tease you about it.
“Okay but seriously what are you doing? Can we go get coffee before class?” You both had a chemistry class at 11, you would always walk together and frequently would stop at a coffee shop before. Jessie claimed it was the only thing that kept her awake during the lecture.
“Yeah, I can meet you in like 30 minutes. I need to shower.”
“Okay well I’m already on my way to yours I’ll be there in five.”
“Alright see you then.” You hopped back out of bed, moving back into your bathroom, stripping and turning on the shower.
Turning off the water you reached for your towel wrapping it around yourself and then headed back into your bedroom. Even though you knew she was coming over it startled you to see Jessie sitting on your bed on her phone. She’s wearing a tight white t-shirt, the sleeves of the shirt sitting tightly against her bicep, her legs covered by a pair of gray wash jeans. She raises her head toward you hearing the bathroom door open. You didn’t miss how her eyes moved up and down your body as if she was checking you out.
“Hi.”
“Hey, just give me like 15 minutes and then we can head out.” You tell her, expecting her to get up and move to the living room to let you finish getting ready. Except she doesn’t move, she remains in place on your bed.
“Get out so I can get ready.” Realizing she wasn’t taking the hint you decide to be blunt with her.
“Oh come on, nothing I haven’t seen, or touched, before” She rolls her eyes at you but respecting your wishes she pushes herself off the bed, giving you one last look up and down before she walks out.
Trying your best to ignore the fact that she seemed to be checking you out, you drop your towel and throw on a pair of jeans and a black crewneck. Not wanting to bother with your hair you leave it as is and walk out to the living room. Jessie stands up moving toward the door to put on her shoes, you follow doing the same, grabbing your backpack and keys before you both head out the door.
The trip to the coffee shop felt normal, you were almost able to forget that the girl sitting across from you had made your legs shake around her head. You sat and complained to each other about school, discussed plans for the weekend, what you planned to cook for dinner that week, pointless conversations, but it was easy. It was like it had always been and that felt like a relief to you for once. Jessie did her typical attempt to try and get you to miss class, asking a ton of questions right before you had to leave the coffee shop in hopes of distracting you enough you’d forget you both had to go, and as always it failed as you looked at your watch and stood up to leave.
Lecture was boring today, it usually was on the more mundane side but today your professor had put on a documentary. He said he wanted to give everyone’s mind a break from reading lecture slides and while you were grateful that you didn’t have to be taking notes, you would’ve preferred to just stay home and watch the documentary on the couch instead of in uncomfortable lecture hall seating. Today was also a day you might have preferred the lecture, it would’ve kept your mind occupied instead of letting it wander, thinking again of the inappropriate acts committed between you and the girl sitting to your left.
The more you think about her the more restless in your seat you get. Feeling unusually bold you pulled a piece of paper from your notebook and grabbed a pen.
You scribbled out the words, ‘You weren’t wrong earlier’ and slid the piece of paper over to Jessie.
You watch from the corner of your eye as she reads it and turns to you, confusion written on her face. You turn to her but don’t do anything besides look back at her. When you don’t give her any clarification she grabs the pen from your hand and writes back, sliding the paper over.
‘What does that mean?’ For a second you debate writing ‘never mind’, backing out, but you figure fuck it why not you still had another half an hour of class to go, might as well make it entertaining for yourself.
‘When you said I was thinking of you’ you passed back the paper and pen.
Jessie reads it and writes again, ‘what?’ You have to hold back a laugh, for as big of a game as Jessie talked, the poor girl was oblivious sometimes.
‘I was thinking of you this morning’ you wrote before crossing it out, you may as well be more direct since Jessie wasn’t picking up any context clues. ‘This morning when I was touching myself, I was thinking about you.’
You take a deep breath and slide the paper over to her. The second you feel her start to grab the paper, the butterflies start in your stomach. You don’t turn to see her reaction this time, you stare forward at the screen, acting as if you were fascinated by what was being shown. In your peripheral vision you see her read the note and her head snaps in your direction. She’s staring into the side of your head, refusing to give in, you keep your eyes locked on the movie. She leans forward trying to get you to look at her, you refuse again turning your head away from her slightly. You feel a sharp pain in your shin, now you turn toward her as Jessie has resorted to kicking you to get your attention.
She points to the paper where your confession was written. You look down at the paper then back up to her. Her expression is hard to read, she looks confused but also has a smug look on her face, she raises her eyebrows and gives a small shake of her head, you can tell she wants you to explain yourself. You just shrug at her instead, you’re thankful the lights are dimmed or she’d be able to see the blush on your cheeks.
She grabs the pen and writes quickly, shoving the paper back in your direction. ‘Tell me what I was doing in your fantasy’ You're shocked by her request, not expecting her to ask for the details. You hesitate, feeling shy about fully exposing your dirty thoughts to her.
‘You were on top of me, playing with my nipples, eating me out, using your fingers on me’ you passed back the paper. Jessie reads it and you watch as she adjusts in her seat, looking a little restless herself. She begins writing.
‘Anything else?’ It’s like she knew you were holding back some of the details from her.
Jessie had numerous times before told you about her nights with other girls, she’d talk about the toys she had, the handcuffs, the blindfold, the vibrator, and you wouldn’t mind using those, but what crept into your fantasy that morning was the idea of her fucking you with a strap-on.. You’d heard her gloat before about how good she was with it, the idea was never something you had thought about but this morning when you were picturing her on top of you, your own fingers inside your pussy, you wished it was her thrusting into you with the toy instead of your fingers.
‘I might’ve thought about you using toys.’ Crossing out the word toys you change it to read ‘I might’ve thought about you using your strap’ You couldn’t believe you were sitting in your lecture hall writing these things on a simple piece of notebook paper, surrounded by a hundred other students.
Jessie starts to write back as the lights in the lecture hall are suddenly clicked back on to full strength. Being too caught up in your note passing both of you had failed to see the credits on the documentary start rolling across the screen.
You look at Jessie, you now see that she’s sporting a matching blush, she's looking right back at you, hand still holding the pen that was writing. Breaking the eye contact you look to see what she had written ‘I can make that happen, I just bought a new one that we’
Looking back up she’s still looking at you. You’re unsure of what to say, nerves coming back stronger now that the lights were on, you felt more exposed. Thankfully Jessie breaks the silence.
“So, back to my place?” Her eyes look you up and down again as she had earlier back at your apartment.
You nod rapidly at her, grabbing the pen from her hand and throwing it into your bag along with your notebook, you zip up the pockets. “Yes.”
Jessie is already standing waiting for you as you pack up, you watch as she takes the note and folds it carefully sticking it into her back pocket. You stand up, following her out of the auditorium. Neither of you say anything on the walk back to her place, you’re thankful she doesn’t live far.
Once you’re both through the door you take off your backpacks, tossing them to the side, the second yours leaves your hand Jessie is pressing you against the wall. Her hands are holding your waist tightly, her hips pressing firmly into yours, her face just millimeters from yours.
“Are you sure?” The same words she had used before she fucked you last time come from her lips.
“Please.” You beg her, you had been so needy for her you didn’t care you were begging, if you needed to beg to get her to fuck you that’s what you’d do. You grab the back of her neck and pull her in. Not wasting any time with soft kisses, your tongue is already moving against hers.
You continue to make out, loving the feeling of her pinning you to the door. Jessie’s teeth close around your bottom lip as she pulls away, biting it gently before releasing it with a pop. Your hands move to the bottom of her shirt and for once it’s you asking if you can undress her instead. She gives you the okay and you pull her shirt up and over her head, you toss it and it lands on top of your backpack. You take a second to admire her figure, she was an athlete and worked out often but you had never taken the time to appreciate the muscles of her shoulders, arms, and abdomen.
While you’re admiring her, Jessie’s hands reach for the bottom of your crewneck, pulling it up, you lift your arms helping her remove it.
“No bra?” Jessie’s eyes are wide as she had been expecting you to have a bra still covering your chest. You looked down, you had briefly forgotten that you decided against wearing a bra this morning, the thick crew neck provided you enough coverage. Jessie’s hands come up, grabbing your chest with a squeeze before dropping her head to place her lips around your nipple. She sucks, much rougher than she had the first time, you throw your head back accidentally slamming it into the door. Hearing the sound of you smacking your head Jessie releases the suction on your nipple and looks up at you.
“You alright?”
“Yeah it just felt good.” You clarify “your mouth, not hitting my head.”
“I figured.” She doesn’t put her mouth back where you desperately want it, instead her hands are wrapping around you grasping onto your thighs just below your ass.
“Jump.” She says to you and you do, she picks you up, wrapping your legs around her torso she begins to move you away from the door. She walks you back to her bedroom, attaching her lips to your neck as you move through the hallway. You feel her start to suck, you were normally one to protest anyone leaving marks on you but her warm tongue and lips felt so good you moaned instead of telling her off.
Bending down she places your back onto her bed, her lips continue to trail across your neck, a mix of gentle sucking, licking, and kissing has you arching your back into her touch. Her hands move from your thighs up to your ass giving it a hard squeeze.
“Jessie just fuck me already”
“I’m getting there, have some patience.” She scolds you for being so impatient. “Take your pants off, leave your panties on, I’ll be right back.”
She pulls herself off of you, moving over to a drawer in her dresser. You watch as she pulls out a dildo, a harness, and a bottle of lube. She messes around with the harness for a minute, attaching the dildo to it. Remembering what she asked, your hands move to the button of your jeans, you unbutton and start to remove them as Jessie turns back to you, harness in hand. She makes her way back over placing the harness and lube onto the bed. Her hands come to grip your inner thighs she spreads your legs, eyes staring at your core where the obvious wet spot was showing through your light gray boyshorts.
“Fuck you’re already so wet.”
“I know, I’ve been like this everyday since you fucked me.”
“Jesus.” Her tongue runs across her lips, pulling the bottom one in between her teeth.
Her hands come up to the elastic on your underwear, her fingers curling around and starting to pull down showing how wet you truly were. Once she removed your panties from around your ankles her hands came back up to your inner thigh, she spread them further this time, fully exposing your dripping core to her. Instead of moving to put on the harness like you expected, she moved to lay down, her face settled between your thighs. You grabbed the hair on top of her head, sitting up slightly, your hand holding her in place not letting her mouth reach you.
“What are you doing?” You asked. She looked up at you.
“I’m eating you out?” She phrased it as if she was questioning what she was doing. Her eyes looked from your face down to your pussy and back up.
“I thought we were using the strap.” You used the hand not holding her hair to point to where it sat on the bed.
“We are” she reassures you. “I’m still going to warm you up. It’s not going to feel good if I just shove it in.”
“Oh,” Now you feel silly for questioning what she was doing.
“Lay back down.” You do as she says, relaxing back against the pillows. You’re engulfed in the smell of her, her pillows and sheets covered in her scent. You loosen your grip on her head, letting her lips make contact with you. She starts by just kissing across you, moving from the inside of one thigh, across to the other, keeping the pressure light as she would place her lips on your clit.
You let her tease you, not wanting to question her actions anymore. She continued with the soft kisses passing back and forth across your core until you felt her tongue dip between your folds unexpectedly. You let out a soft moan as her tongue drags from your entrance up to your clit. She moves her lips to surround it, sucking gently and using her tongue to trace circles around the sensitive bud.
“Oh fuck Jess.” You had thought about moaning her name in your fantasies, may as well turn them into a reality. This time you watch her reaction to you moaning her name, she rolls her eyes back and lets out a groan against your heat. Her tongue continues pleasuring you, so much better than your fingers had that morning. Nothing felt as good as her tongue. It wasn’t long before your legs were shaking and your grip on her hair became so tight your fingers were starting to hurt. A string of moans mixed in with Jessie’s name falls from your mouth, she continues sucking, working you through your orgasm before you push her off.
She sits up, using her thumb to clear her chin, the same way she did before, sucking your wetness off her finger. She leans over you, bringing her lips to yours. Being able to taste yourself on her lips had you ready for round two.
“See how good you taste?” Jessie breathes as she pulls away from the kiss. She’s hovering over you, her breathing is heavy, her eyes dark, the way she had you caged to the bed was incredibly dominant but made you feel so safe. You just nod your head at her question.
“So fucking good.” Jessie says quietly, more to herself than to you, as she moves off of you. She stands next to the bed, bending over and kissing you quickly before her hands move to her jeans. She undoes them and they slide down her thighs, leaving her standing in a light blue pair of tight boxers. You swear you can see a wet spot between her legs, a slightly darker blue. Before you can confirm, she reaches for the harness, bending down to put her feet through it, pulling it up to rest around her hips.
“Um, do you want me to put a condom on it?” When you look at her like she’s crazy for asking she explains.
“It’s clean, I always clean them, I just usually offer with different partners if they’re more comfortable, but this one is also brand new so… up to you.” For once, she’s the one who looks flustered and new to this, it’s a nice change, reminding you that it’s still just Jessie, your friend, who, while often a smooth talker, can also be a complete dork.
“No I’m good without it.”
Your stomach fluttered with anticipation as she climbed back on the bed. You couldn’t help but stare at the toy. It was realistically shaped, clear in color, it was thick and relatively long but nothing unrealistic. You were thankful Jessie had picked reasonably, not choosing to get the largest cock she could find.
She found herself settled between your thighs again, she reached over grabbing the small bottle of lube opening it and dripping some onto the head of the toy.
“You’re probably wet enough but better safe than sorry right?” She gives you a shy smile seeing you were watching her hand spread the lube down the shaft. Once she’s done she wipes the extra on the back of her thigh and shifts closer to you. One hand grasps the strap by the base, the other supporting her body weight next to you.
She moved the head of the strap between your folds, collecting some of your own wetness on the tip. She repeats the action a few times before stopping with the tip sitting against your entrance. You feel her begin to push it slowly, letting you adjust to the familiar and yet completely different feeling of her entering you. You watch as her eyes bounce between where she was inside of you and up to your eyes and face, checking your facial expressions with every movement.
She moves her hand from her strap, no longer needing the guidance, she grabs your thigh, pulling it up and around her waist. You get the hint bringing both of your legs to wrap about her back, allowing her to move to be on top of you instead of sitting up. She fully pushes into you until her hips flush with yours. You let out a shaky breath, not even realizing you had been holding it in. You had done this before with men but the girth of Jessie’s cock was stretching you in a new way.
“Are you okay?” Noticing the change in your breathing, Jessie checks making sure you’re comfortable.
“Yeah just give me a second. You’re well endowed compared to my previous partners.” You wink at her. Jessie stays where she is, not moving her hips, holding herself above you. She kisses you and you can’t help but think about how intimate this feels, it spreads a warm tingle throughout your body. She’s patient, not nagging asking if you’re ready yet, not rolling her eyes waiting, not thrusting just to see your reaction, all things your previous partners had done. She just waits, occupying herself with trailing kissing down your neck and across your collarbones.
“You can move.” After what felt like an hour but was probably only a minute or two, the stretching feeling subsides and now just a dull ache of need remains.
Jessie picks up her head from where she was leaving hickeys on your chest, hovering above you again. She slowly moves her hips back before pushing back in. She gives a few more test thrusts, not wanting to rush and hurt you.
You see her eyes studying your face and wanting to give her the confidence that she wasn’t going to hurt you, you pull her in by the neck like you're going to kiss her, only turning your head away and putting your lips to her ear.
“Fuck me like you mean it Jessie.” You softly say into her ear, gently biting in an attempt to get her riled up.
Your words and actions work as Jessie drops to her forearms from her hands, dipping her head into the space between your head and shoulder. She curses into your skin before attaching her lips to your neck. Her hips begin thrusting fast and hard against yours, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. The change in pace is just what you needed. Feeling her pull nearly all the way out before slamming back into you filling you back up. Every time her hips meet yours the strap bumps against your clit giving you even more pleasure.
With each thrust into you, a different noise leaves your mouth it's a mix of groans, moans, whimpers, along with curses and cries of her name. Your arms are wrapped around her, nails gently scratching at her back. Jessie is also moaning, her face right next yours meaning you heard every noise she made even if she tried to hide it.
You feel the build up, this time is different, coming from a place that feels deeper in your stomach.
“I’m going to cum.” You manage to get out between all the other noises you were making.
“Me too” you’re surprised to hear Jessie admit. Your surprise doesn’t last long as your mind goes blank as your orgasm crashes down. All you can think of is how good she feels inside of you. You feel yourself clenching tightly around Jessie’s cock as she continues to thrust quickly into you. Your legs shaking again, feeling tired wrapped around Jessie.
She gives one last hard thrust before she moans your name into your neck, something she hadn’t done before. Hearing your name fall from her lips was new and incredibly attractive. Jessie kept her cock fully inside of you grinding her hips against yours, giving her the stimulation she needed to work through her orgasm. Her grinding got progressively slower until she came to a stop. Nothing filled the previously loud bedroom but the sound of you both breathing heavily.
Jessie pressed herself up onto her hands, you feel as the sweat you both had worked up causes your skin to stick briefly. She leaves her hips against yours. Her cheeks are red and you’re sure yours are too. She’s smiling down at you, her shoulders moving up and down with every breath. You reach up with one hand, pushing her baby hairs back and out of her face.
“You alright?” It was your turn to ask her for once.
“I’m so good, that’s never happened before. Are you good?” The smile on her face doesn’t leave.
“What hasn’t happened before?” You ignore her asking if you’re good, more concerned about what she meant.
“I’ve never cum from using the strap on someone. Like it turns me on but then I usually have to use a vibrator or need something else, that just happened.” She shakes her head in disbelief of what had just occurred.
“Must be the new strap.” You said looking up at her.
“Or it’s you.” She quickly responds. She looks down to where the two of you are still connected. Your eyes follow her. “Are you good with me pulling out?”
“Yeah go ahead.” You try to relax, your pussy still tight around her. A small noise slips out of your mouth as she pulls back slowly. Once she’s fully out you feel yourself clench around nothing, missing the feeling of her inside of you. Jessie slides off the bed and moves into her bathroom. You hear the water run for a second. She comes back a few seconds later with a washcloth in hand. She holds it out almost as if she’s going to give it to you but doesn’t fully extend her arm.
“Are you good if I clean you up? The lube can be pretty sticky. Or you can do it yourself if you’re more comfortable.”
“Yeah that’s fine Jess.” You let your legs fall back open and she uses the washcloth to wipe you down, her movements are extra gentle as you shift away from her unintentionally when she grazes over your clit, still sensitive from your two orgasms.
“Sorry.” She apologizes. She wipes the inside of your thighs last before she turns her attention to the mess between her own legs. She loosens the straps of the harness, letting it fall to the floor. She reaches for the waistband of her boxers before pausing and looking at you. You can tell she seems hesitant to take them off under your watch.
“I won’t look, I promise.” You turn away slightly, looking at the ceiling. You can hear her moving around. A minute later you feel the bed dip beside you. She pulls the blanket up covering herself and then covering you as well. You roll over to face her, keeping your eyes even with hers, the blanket was covering her but still not wanting to make her uncomfortable.
You shift closer to her. Not close enough that you can touch her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off her skin. Not saying anything, she grabs your hand pulling you toward her, she drapes your arm across her waist, your head coming to rest on her chest as her arm wraps over your shoulder, her fingers gently scratching on your back. You let out a sigh and feel her do the same. You didn’t know what this meant for you and her but just being here, your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat, felt like everything you’d ever need.
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eyelambspider · 1 month ago
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𝟎𝟑. 𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞 & 𝐀𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 || 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞
Day three of Kink/Creeptober! Here is the list of my prompts & event terms!
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : john price x gn!reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Its the zombie apocalypse, and as a former military man, John Price leads your group to a rooftop in order to get saved. Shortly after, he comes up to you with an offer that surprises you: He wants to fuck you like its the end of the world. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.6 k 𝐚/𝐧 : although I think this works for both a fem & male reader (I don't describe reader's body in great detail) please lmk if it doesn't and I will change this to fit pronouns! also, the 'saved' scene is very L4D coded 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : smut, nsfw, mentions of death/gore/guns (the zombies), no use of y/n, creampie, dirty talk, praise, kissing, aftercare, fluff, swearing (the least of our problems huh?)
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐊 𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋. Swarms of the undead had sprung up, laying waste to the streets. It had only been a week or so since it had started and news of the virus had gone—quite literally—airborne.
Captain John Price had led the handful of survivors to the abandoned hotel. The bravest of the group took up guns and fired at the undead that lurked in the foyer. While a few women and children held back, knives and makeshift weapons in their hands.
"Come on! Everyone get in!" Price and a few men stood at the bottom of the stairwell, holding the door for everyone to flood in and make their way to the roof. Anxious to reach rescue.
Seven flights up, you pushed the door to the roof open with a bang. Immediately your eyes shot up towards the horizon, searching the skies frantically.
Had you all missed it?
The entire group slowly appeared behind you, Price coming up last. Everyone turning their tired faces towards the military man, searching his face for any sign of hope for their salvation. The only thing that had kept them going for days.
"They'll come," he assured. Although he couldn't really believe the words himself, it seemed everyone else did.
The small group of survivors began to collect themselves, willing to wait as long as it took for rescue. Everyone found something to do. Families began to make spots for the children to sit on with blankets and clothing, water and a bit of food beginning to go around. Some of the men even disappeared down to the seventh floor, clearing it properly of debris and barricading it... unable to stand idle even now.
The sky was filled with a haze of smoke, distant fires and sirens long died out wafting into the air. Polluting the city with the smell of death and ash. It was horrible, even from up here.
Some people couldn't bear to think about it, or begin to believe that the world had ended... You though, you were quite literally staring the apocalypse in the face.
Distant skyscrapers had collapsed, lit aflame like birthday candles. The yellow sun was hidden behind a dreamy haze of smoke. And below, where your eyes traced, the streets were crawling with zombies. Bits of flesh ripped from their faces. Some already bloated and decrepit, while others were still bleeding. Chunks of faces and limbs scattered about like urban trash. It was a mass of flesh, clawing their way towards the loudest noises, groaning and wailing like souls of the damned for just one more meal.
"You'll give yourself nightmares," a voice spoke. The accent had become so familiar during the past few days that you didn't even need to glance over your shoulder to know that Price was walking up to you.
He watched the way the eerie wind lapped at your hair, the way you peered over the edge... his dark eyes unable to read that distant expression on your grimy face.
He really wished he had a smoke right now. A long and deep sigh slipped from his lips as he watched the corpses below the building linger aimlessly like termites. Bumping into each other mindlessly with groans and slobbery hisses. Just looking for their next victim.
Price glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. You weren't really paying attention, but his eyes lingered on the soft curve of your back as you leaned over to look down. He licked his lips, inhaling softly as if to say something before the sounds of choppers began to fill the air.
Zombies and survivors alike turned towards the thunderous sound. Black helicopters flew overhead in the dozens, blotting out the sun with whirring rotors. Although some of the survivor's cheered and waved for help... Price's stomach dropped.
Something wasn't right.
Everyone watched in confusion and despair as the government helicopters flew overhead and passed them by, stirring up smoke as they headed deeper into the city. Oblivious to the people who wailed and cried out in panic for them to come back.
You watched with wide eyes as the rescue slipped right through your fingers like sand in an hourglass.
That night, it all seemed hopeless.
But, as humans always do, they held out miraculously.
Some survivors made a make-shift 'Save Us' sign to hang over the roof using spare bedsheets and gore from the street. Others continued to barricade the floor off, everyone collectively agreeing to start preparing for the long haul.
They had given you a room to stay in, everyone shared a hall, but most families and people that knew each other kept their doors open to chat. Yours was closed, leaving you to stare aimless up at the ceiling. Listening to the sounds of your breath against the clamor of people in the hall trying to comfort each other to the world ending just outside those large windows. Zombies, once people you might've known, growled and screamed for their next face to tear open with their teeth-
Before you could stumble further into despair, the door to your hotel room clicked closed. You sat up and glanced over, that questioning look on your face making Price sigh again, his hands coming to rest on his dusted jeans.
"I have an... offer you might want to here me out on," he tossed his hands up, as if he wasn't exactly sure how to fucking say it-
God, he really wanted to fuck you, and the apocalypse seemed like no better excuse to do just that.
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"Fuckk," Price panted against your pulse, his face buried into the crook of your neck, breathing in your very essence each time his hips snapped forwards. "You feel so fucking good," he groaned, sucking a deep red mark into your heated skin.
The two of you were tangled in white sheets. Price had you laying beneath his burly body, your soft legs wrapped around his hips, squeezing and pulling him in deeper. The sensation of Price's cock burying itself to your hilt made the two of you moan into each other with equal fervor. His tip slamming softly into that sweet spot inside of you that both made your eyes roll.
This was everything he fucking needed for the past few days. His mind not focused on rationing or food or all that other shit- God he just wanted your sweet body beneath him like this. Watching your body bounce below him softly from the force of his thrusts. His cock buried so tantalizingly deep into your tight heat. The sound of your skin against his- "Fuckk," he groaned again, nearly tipping over the edge just thinking about it.
You moaned beneath him, holding onto his broad shoulders, fingers skimming over his war-torn skin for purchase, holding on for dear life as the soldier unintentionally gave your body all his pent up energy. When he felt you raise your hips to meet his insistent thrusts, he could've sworn he was in love.
"Price!" You begged. For more, for anything. Everything about him was addicting. The way sweat glistened off his dark brows, the way his soft eyes held yours as he pounded into you, watching every reaction, every breath you took with his pupils blown wide open with pure lust.
He could see how much you loved it, could feel how hard your walls clamped around him.
He shook his head, dipping down again to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "Fuck, I'm not going to last long with you looking like that baby," he whispered.
He kept you under him, enrapturing you with his warm skin and musky scent. Price hiked your left leg up and over his strong forearm, spreading you open for him. Allowing him to sink in deeper with a deep growl of satisfaction.
Price could feel his orgasm beginning to build at the base of his spine, his measured thrusts becoming a sloppier the more he chased it. He knew you were close too, he could feel your body writhing beneath his, begging for more friction, trying to hold him impossibly close.
Even with a horde of the undead standing a few floors below, trapping you all into this hotel. Even with the sounds of distant helicopters and fires raging in the background, or the incessant creak of the bed every time your bodies met... All you could hear was each other. Blocking out the world just to listen to those sweet cries and those low growls of satisfaction.
With one powerful thrust, Price came inside of you with a guttural moan, smothering the sounds of his orgasm into your neck. He kept thrusting, riding out the heavenly high he got from your body... even when he felt you squeeze down on him with one final cry.
The strong man above you suddenly went a little limp in your arms, his lips brushing against the burning shell of your ear as he panted, "That was fucking perfect." He found himself chuckling, the two of you spent from the exertion.
Price felt you whimper below him, feeling your legs tremble around him with a sly grin. You were going to feel that in the morning... Inner thighs already feeling sore.
"I got ya," Price grunted, untangling himself from your limbs. His muscular arm never leaving your waist even as he settled behind you under the sheets, making the two of you comfortable by pulling the blanket back up. He cradled you close to him, your back pressed against the hard planes of his chest. "Get some sleep," he murmured, planting a soft, almost weary, kiss to your temple. As if the act was suddenly too intimate and out of place in a burning world.
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marymary-diva17 · 9 months ago
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I decided to resubmit my request:
Tonowari x Fem Reader x Ronal (poly mates)/ Aonung x Tsireya x Rotxo x Fem Reader (platonic/parental relationship):
Back story on the Reader she has a scar on one of her eyes and is blind in that same eye, is mated to Tonowari and Ronal. Came up with this idea while listening to Beauty and the Beast by Kurt Hugo Schneider and Chase Holfelder.
Anyways, this will mostly focus on the Reader’s relationship with the children. Basically one day when the children go over to get the Sully’s they notice that Tsireya is not with them and they wonder why. So they do their training as normal and it’s the end of the day and Tsireya never showed up. And this paderen goes on for a while before one day none of the children show in tge morning and then the Sully children get really curious and try to find them only to see the they are fighting an adult (from an outsiders perspective). And they tell Kiri and Tuk to go find their parents while they go try to help. When the boys try to intervene they get beat and when the parents finally show up Jake is the first one to jump in and help the children. You choose how it ends. Thank you.
Tonowari x reader x ronal
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Playing the role of warrior and mother had been something you had to learn to balance many years ago, as you had to balance your responsibilities to the clan and your people along with your responsibilities as a mother. It was not easy at the start but over time it become easy for you but there will be some struggles as well. There were times when playing the role of warrior and mother will be in sync, and there was no denying those roles. Even when it had involve your kids playing the role of warrior and mother was no denying the call
Tisreya “ mama” you are training with a wooden staff when you had heard Tsireya voice, you soon stopped what you were doing and looked at her. 
Y/n “ hello my sweet girl”
tisreya “ mama I came to ask you for some help” 
Y/n “ what the matter my love you can tell me”:
Tsireya “ if I tell you please don’t tell baba and mom please” 
Y/n “ sure my love so tell me what the matter I’m here to listen and help” you had placed some comforting hands on tisreya shoulder, as she soon looked up to you. 
Tsireya “ mama can you train me to defend myself, I want to be like you keeping the people safe with healing and defending them as well”
Y/n “ sure my love I can do that for you” tsireya smiled towards you and after that day, you had spent time teaching tsireya some ways to defend herself. Until you had to leave for a bit to visit some other clans,and during your time away new arrivals had come. 
Months later 
Neteyam “ hey guys we are ready for today lessons”
Loak “ hey where is Reya”the sully kids are gathered with Ao’nung and Rotox, but they are missing tisreya. 
Rotox “ oh she busy at the moment with some other matter”
Kiri “ what is that if you don’t me asking”
Ao’nung “ her own lesson that are private don’t worry she will be around” 
Loak “ aww I was hoping to see her today”
Tuk “ yes I wanted to see her as well” 
lo'ak " yeah tell us more about what she doing as she always here, leading the lessons"
rotxo " she busy with some private lessons like we said they are very important to her"
lo'ak " so what is she doing can we do it as well"
kiri " yeah it sounds very interesting and we have been perfecting everything else"
Neteyam “ come on you three we can see her later lets get on with our lessons"
lo'ak " fine we will go on with the lessons"
kiri " we will wait to see tisreya later on"
tuk " can we collect sea shells with her after she gets back"
aonung " sure tuk we can" the rest of the day had gone well with the lessons, there had been some questions and wonder about where tsireya had gone off to for the day. The sully kids had thought she was with ronal but when they pass by the healer hut she was not there, and then there was tonowari and she was not with them.
Later on that day
lo'ak " she has to be somewhere around here" the sully kids are looking for tsireya as she hadn't show up yet, and they are together as aonung and rotxo had been called awya by their father.
neteyam " I wonder where she could be"
kiri " we haven't been able to find her anywhere else yet and she not with ronal or tonowari"
tuk " I really wanted to see her today and show her I got better at swimming"
neteyam " you can show her when we find her"
lo'ak " wait I know where we can find her tisreya had showed me this beach she might be there" the group had nodded their head and followed lo'ak towards this beach when they heard the sound, of wood smack against each other and the sound of sand moving.
lo'ak " huh" the sully kids were hidden behind and massive rock as they peaked out to see tsireay was holding a staff in her hands, while she was fighting off someone that was unknown to the sully kids. eya.
lo'ak " we have to help her reya in danger that stranger is trying to attack her, what if that rda avatar"
neteyam " tuk kiri go get dad and tell tonowari what happing"
kiri " yes sure come on tuk quickly" the two girls had taken off as the boys had gotten out their blades ready to help tsireya again this outsider who might be with the rda. The two boys had gotten into position to run at the stranger and attack soon let out warrior calls.
With mother and daughter
y/n " you are getting good my daughter moving quickly in the sand, while carrying a staff defending yourself ... you are very good leaner"
tsireya " thanks mama"
y/n " in no time you will be able to knock down one any warrior teen or young adults, it will take time for you to take down an adult"
tisreya " yes mama" your soon stopped what you were doing as you heard something lifting up your hand, stopping the lessons as you look at your daughter.
tsireay " mama"
y/n " I feel something about to happen" you soon heard a call that gotten you attention you back had been turned, but you soon swag you staff knocking down who ever was coming near you.
tsireay " lo'ak neteyam" the two boys are now in the sand some of their body covered in sand and hair a bit a mess as well.
y/n " hello boys how may I help you both today"
lo'ak " leave tsireay alone you outsider"
y/n " so you are lo'ak and neteyam daughter you are right about them"
neteyam " daughter"
tsireya " this is my mama a good warrior as you can see"
y/n " I have to give you boys some praise you did a good attack and were fighting to defend my daughter along with saving her... that is good and makes you both warriors in spirt but you will need more time of learning" both boys look up at you as you were talking with them.
neteyam " that was amazing ma'am how did you heard us coming"
y/n " your footsteps and your call if you are going to sneak up, on someone you need to me much quieter then you both were right now"
lo'ak " thank you ... we never got your name"
y/n " I'm y/n and you boys are lucky I go easy on the youth of the clan then adults"
tsireya " she not lying" the boys had forgotten for that time that they sent their sisters to go get help, It was to late to say anything as you soon heard something else getting your attention. You had soon swag you staff hitting someone in the face, and another one in the chest. You had soon dropped the star as you had tossed one of them over you shoulder into the water, as another one came and you soon grabbed them and kicked them into the water. once that was over you soon kicked your staff into the air and caught it, soon pointing it towards the two adult males.
y/n " now see this what I do with adults that try to attack me from behind" you are looking at Jake sully and tsu'tey was they are in the water looking at you.
lo'ak " dad"
neteyam " uncle tsu'tey"
y/n " oh so family" soon some other warriors had come along with tonowari.
tonowari " y/n jake tsutery"
y/n " tonowair good we all each other name good for us all"
Jake " I was told by my daughetrs that this women here was attacking your daughter and that my sons came to help her" tonowari and the metkayian warriors had fallen out laughing.
tsu'tey " what going on" Jake and Tsu'tey had gotten out of the water and soon looked at group, they were feeling a bit embarrassed as well.
tonowari " she my second mate and tsireya mom she will never hurt trsireya"
y/n " yes I was out here with my daughter and I'm no outsider to the clan"
tonowari " what were you two doing out here anyways"
tisreya " well mama has been training me baba in defending myself"
tonowari " yawne"
y/n " she asked and I said yes you and ronal are not the only ones that can help out kids learn, and she doing well"
tonowari " we are going to talk about this later" you had nodded your head and looked at Tsireya smiling, knowing that there will be some fuss but either one of you will be in trouble. After the whole scene was calmed down the group had went back to the village, there were some questions asked towards you and you answered them. It seems like you had won over the sully family and their clan, tonowari and ronal were a bit upset about the whole lesson but soon came to terms with it seeing the tsireya loved it and was learning as well.
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edgeray · 3 months ago
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To Celebrate a Life [Arlecchino Birthday Special]
(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)
A/N - When I tell you that I ran to Google Docs after seeing Arlecchino's birthday art, I ran. Thank you @myfriendcallsmebun for texting me and reminding me of the birthday art. Happy birthday my beautiful husband, I'd give you the world if my heart isn't enough. Content Warnings - suggestiveness in the middle, Arlecchino-centric, 1.0k words
Arlecchino was not one to celebrate holidays, less her own birthday. As a Fatui Harbinger, every day, regardless of holiday or not, business and duty remains a constant; every morning starts the same, just as every night ends the same. Still, the holidays give the children a much-needed respite, a momentary holder of joy, a distraction from the grim world of the Fatui. As their ‘Father,’ the children's mental and emotional wellbeing are just as significant as their physical, and so, such leisures are crucial as well. While her birthday may be to celebrate ‘her,’ Arlecchino finds little value in appreciating the day she was born–if anything, it is only an excuse for another barbeque dinner. 
As she works on paperwork in her office, she checks the window behind to the side. She observes that it is currently late afternoon. Strange. Usually during her birthday, the children would pass by throughout the day, leaving behind their respective gifts one at a time. Today, however, no one has entered her office at all today. Even uncannier, she's yet seen you, even though you would usually arrive unannounced at this point. Perhaps you and the children were unaware. If that is the case, then Arlecchino will not make the special occasion apparent, not when there is no need. After all, there is little to celebrate for her life. 
It is a shame that the steak will become a waste. 
She picks back up the pen. Some time passes before there's finally a knock on the door. 
“Arlecchino? Can I come in?” Your familiar voice sounds through the door. 
“Yes, come in, love,” she replies, lifting her head up to face you. You enter, an evident glee on your face as you stroll around her desk and reach her. Arlecchino swivels in her chair towards you, and you don't hesitate to perch yourself on her lap.
“I've missed my husband,” you murmured, planting your face in between her neck and shoulder, inhaling her cologne. 
“I've been here for the majority of the day. Did you go out?” Arlecchino questions, pressing a kiss against the shell of your ear and wrapping an arm around your back. 
“I did. I went out for some… errands,” you say, and immediately, Arlecchino raises an eyebrow. You aren't one to hand out vague responses, so suspicions begin to develop within the Harbinger. Nonetheless, she states nothing, only prioritizing her indulgence in your presence. 
“Speaking of which…” You pull your head away from her body, gazing up at her with pleading eyes–eyes more demanding than any gaze from an Archon. “Can you help me with the bags?”
“Darling, how much did you spend?” The Harbinger inquires, placing a hand on your hips to lift you off of her lap. “The children couldn't help you?”
“I can't have the children looking inside,” you give her a cheeky smile with a twinkle of mischief in your eyes and Arlecchino huffs, pinching your cheek as she rises from her chair. 
“Does our collection not satisfy you enough, you insatiable thing?” Arlecchino follows you towards the door. 
“Nothing with you will ever satisfy me,” you smirk. 
As you lead her out the room, Arlecchino is suddenly greeted with the mass of her children, all adorning cheerful expressions. In front of her, Freminet, Lyney, and Lynette present her with a cake, while the other children hold cupcakes and wrapped boxes. As the Harbinger observes more, the cupcakes aren't uniform–amateurly designed as if the children had made them themselves.   
“Happy Birthday, Father!” The children exclaim out in unison. Arlecchino blinks and remains still for half a second, before turning to you.
“This was what you were busy with?” She says levely, but you can tell there is a bit of a smile present in her inquiry. You nod vigorously, guiding her by the hand towards the cake. 
“Yes. Did you think we would forget?” You respond back with a chuckle, stroking over the back of her hand with your thumb gingerly. “I would never forget anything related to you.” 
If Arlecchino was any less emotionally repressed, she would flush, or even admit that she was touched by the clear display of effort from you and the children. It couldn't be easy coordinating this. 
“We've prepared your favorite foods in the kitchen already, and set up the barbeque and yard for you, Father,” Lyney states. “We hope it's not too late for you to start.” 
Arlecchino shakes her head. Nothing sounds more excellent than a barbeque right now. “No it is not. Children, let us go to the yard. We can enjoy the food and gifts there.” 
The children are quick to scamper out, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet following after them to make sure that no one runs, leaving the Harbinger and you behind in the hall. She turns to you, leaning in and pressing her lips against the top of your head. 
“Were you deceiving me earlier about your ‘groceries?’”
“No, I wouldn't want to rile you up with a lie,” you hum. “Maybe later tonight, you'll be able to open my ‘personal’ presents.” 
“I look forward to them,” Arlecchino remarks with a wolfish grin, before raising your hand in hers and kissing against your knuckles. Her eyes soften as your gazes meet one another. 
“The children worked really hard.”
“I’m sure they did. Their efforts are… stirring.” Arlecchino finds it hard to deny the lightness in her chest, the abnormal warmth throughout her body that wasn't the bloodfire in her veins. 
“Happy birthday, Peruere,” you say sincerely, your voice resounding with gentle fondness. “I really… I can’t imagine myself without you. I’m really happy I’m with you. I want you to know how much you mean to me… and the children.” 
You raise your free hand to her cheek, grazing your thumb over her skin as you move a strand of hair away from her face. “I am so thankful for your life. I love you.” 
Arlecchino closes her eyes and leans in, pressing her forehead against yours, a subtle smile on her lips. 
Maybe her life is worth celebrating–you and her children are what make it worth celebrating.
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sachiko6243 · 1 year ago
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Daddy's girl
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Summary: Carlisle just taking care of his little girl, while they are chaperoning a school trip
This is part of a story I write on Wattpad, as I am conviced this man needs more attention. Its called "Save Haven - Carlise Cullen". Feel free to hop over, my account name is in my description. 🥰
Word count: 3667
Warnings: period sex, daddy kink (sorry, it got the best of me 😏), praise kink, description of blood, general warning for the vampire daddy himself
Minors DNI! This contains adult content
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It had been a draining day. Misses Harrison insisted on going the whole hike she planned out even though it was raining all morning. When we came back, I was drenched to the bones, shaking like a dry leave in the wind. And to all abundance, my period decided to come a few days early. So, I was fighting the whole hike against the cold, while my stomach tried to kill me. Back in the cabin, I let Bella hop into the shower first, because she looked even worse than I did. The Cullens were finished with changing their clothes so fast, I didn’t even realize they left.
When it was my turn, I pealed myself out of the wet clothes, groaning at the pain shooting through me. All I wanted was to crawl in my bed and forget the world even existed. Luckily, Carlisle was able to talk Misses Harrison out of her collective plan for the evening, convincing her smaller house groups could would be easier to be kept entertained during the shitty weather. After a hot shower I changed into fresh clothes, wrapping my up in one of Carlisles sweaters I stole from him for the trip. I looked like I drowned inside his way to big clothes, but right now I only cared about them being exceptionally warm.
Leaving the room, I ran into the Cullen kids and Bella sitting on the sofa. Jasper tensing up as soon as I stepped into the living room. He had been avoiding me like the plague all day, and it wasn’t until now, that it hit me. My period. He could smell my blood. “We all can.” Edward answered. “Good luck with Carlisle though.” He chuckled turning back to play with Bellas hair who was in a deep conversation with Alice. I scrunched my nose at his mysterious words, but shrugged it off, entering Carlisle and my bedroom.
As soon as I entered, I understood, what Edward meant. Carlisle was sitting on his bed and when his eyes landed on mine, he let out a low growl. His nostrils flaring, while his body tensed up. Instinctively, I stepped towards him: “Whats wrong, honey?” But he raised his hand, stopping me from approaching any further: “Don’t come any closer. Your smell… I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Is it because I am on my period?” I asked, stepping back towards the door. He groaned at my words, leaning back on the bed. “Yes. I thought I could handle it, but its worse than I’d like to admit.”
“But you are not affected by human blood.” I said, not fully understanding what he meant.
“That’s not entirely true. Other humans blood doesn’t affect me. Yours on the other hand is another story. Like Bella to Edward you are my singer. The one human whos blood is more appealing than normal. And if I wouldn’t be abstinent for such a long time…” He let the end of his sentence hang in the air.
Sucking in a deep breath, I grasped for the door handle: “I will leave you alone then. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” But I wasn’t even able to fully open the door, when he was behind me, shutting the door with such force, I was surprise he didn’t break it. “No!” He growled. “Not when Jasper is around. Not when you smell this good.” His hands were on each side of my head, caging me in between the door and his tall frame. My heart beat so fast in my chest, that my head started to spin. Carlisle dipped down his head, starting to kiss my neck up and down, growling deeply the whole time. Him being this close made me tense up, but he didn’t seem to notice, grabbing me by my waist, pushing me into the corner of the room. I tried to force him back, but he didn’t even react to my hands pushing him away.
“Carlisle stop.” I whispered, my voice shaky and fearful. He didn’t listen, so I tried again: “Carlisle, you scare me.” Those words seemed to snap him out of his frenzy, because as soon as I said it, he jumped back, cowering in the opposite corner of the room. “Aubrey, I am sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me. I couldn’t…” He stopped, looking away from me. My eyes went soft, as soon as I saw how much he struggled with it. “Don’t worry, Carlisle. I trust you.” My words didn’t seem to help him one bit. Raging up he looked at me with angry eyes. “No, Aubrey. I could have easily killed you, or gone against your wishes. You don’t understand. I am a monster!”
“But you didn’t.” I answered calmly. “You stopped when I asked you to. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes…”
“Yeah, but mine get you killed. I should leave.” He got up from his crouched position, but I moved in front of the door, blocking him from leaving. “Get out of the way, Aubrey.” He growled, but I shook my head. “I am not going anywhere. You either tell me how I can help you, or I am not moving.”
Carlisle squinted his eyes. “I could easily move you out of the way.”
“Then do it.” I challenged him, tilting up my chin. “Move me out of the way. Show me what a coldhearted monster you are, that doesn’t care for my feelings.”
He roared in anger and it took everything in me not to run away from him. Because right now he really did look like a vampire. The way his black eyes hungrily scanned me, his whole body shaking in anger and frustration. The way he clenched his jaw to fight for control. But he didn’t touch me, or force me away from the door. One last deep growl later he sank down on his bed, collapsing in himself.
I took that as my cue to sit down next to him, grabbing his hand and leading it to my face. “I love you, Carlisle. Much more than I can tell you. Please tell me, how I can help you.” He took a deep breath, the expression on his face growing softer. “There is not much you can do. I just wasn’t prepared for you to get your period. I expected it when we where back home so you in this small room, smelling so appealing… It just got the best of me.”
“So, you don’t want to kill me anymore?” I joked, tilting my head in his hand. He chuckled, softly caressing my cheek. “Not more than usual.” Suddenly he maneuvered me on the bed, until he was leaning on top of me. “You do however look very cute, wearing my clothes.”
I could feel the tension in the room suddenly shift from strained to sexual.
Carlisle had me now pinned underneath him, planting soft little kisses on my neck and face. “Just cute?” I asked, audibly out of breath by his actions. He hummed into my ear. “Actually no. You look fucking ravishing.” It was a rare occurrence for him to cuss, but whenever he did, he used it in the most sensual way possible. “I wanna fuck you.” His statement caught me off guard, making me stutter in surprise: “I am on my period. And you nearly lost it minutes ago.”
Nestling with my sweatpants and my hoodie, he grinned down at me. “Sex has been proven to help with the cramping and the pain.” I didn’t resist him taking off my clothes, relishing in this intimate and dirty moment he was creating. “So, this is for pure medical reasons?”
“Purely.” He whispered against my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt over my whole body. Before I could even blink, he vanished from the room and was back, before the door fully swung open. A big towel in his hand. Lifting me up with one arm, he planted the towel underneath me, setting me back down again. Then he shuffled down until his head was between my legs.
“What are you doing?” I shrieked away, but he just kept my legs open, a wicked smile starting to spread onto his face. I knew what he was about to do, but I was still caught by surprise, when he tugged on the string of my tampon, effectively pulling it out. Carelessly he wrapped it inside a paper towel, disregarding it on the floor. “Carlisle!” I yelped out, but the rest of my complaint got stuck in my throat, as soon as he dipped his head down. A deep moan rumbling through my body, as soon as he licked one long stripe over my pussy.
My fingers found their way to his hair, pulling on the roots. His deep sensual growl answering my desperate needs. I could feel myself growing wetter instantly. Welcoming his cold fingers into my warmth. His touch was as light as a feather, having me on the edge of madness in seconds. “Carlisle.” I breathed out, unable to focus on anything else than the man between my legs. Pulled into the depths of his black eyes.
He was fingerfucking me slowly to the rhythm his tongue danced on my clit. “Please don’t stop.” I cried out, not caring on who was going to hear me. The smirk that started forming on his face was breathtaking. Full of confidence and arrogance. Something I rarely saw on him. “Never.” Was all he answered, slowly adding another finger. It was ridiculous how fast he was able to find that sweet spot deep inside of me. Fingers feeling so good, I couldn’t stop the moans spilling through the room.
“You taste so good.” He groaned, raising his head to properly look at me. His chin and mouth were covered in a mix of my slick and blood, making me gasp out in embarrassment. He looked so dangerous and appealing at the same time it was impossible for me to stay sane. Watching intently how tiny droplets of blood ran down his chin, dripping from his fangs. It was a dance on razors edge, having him taste my blood while simultaneously fingering to my orgasm, but I didn’t care. Mesmerized by the way his eyes were flickering between lust and hunger. Between the desire to fuck and kill me. And me being absolutely turned on by it was something I never imagined to happen.
Carlisles smile just grew wicked, when he realized how his appearance affected me. Wiping the blood off with his fingers licking them clean in the most sexual way I could imagine, he looked me deep in the eyes. “You like that, do you?” He asked. Unable to answer as I felt a third finger thrust against my core, I moaned in pleasure. “Answer me, love, or I will stop.”
“Yes.” Was all I was able to press out, is name now falling of my lips like a sweet prayer, not that there was anything holy left in this room, but I couldn’t care less.
As if he sensed the coil in my stomach growing tighter, he placed his other hand on my mouth, muffling my moans. “Careful, love. You were the one who didn’t want things to be official yet, remember?” And right as he said it, I could hear two of the female teachers pass our window, chatting about something. Luckily the curtains had been closed all day, because if it would have been otherwise, they would have seen the predicable scene I was caught in.
Dipping down again, his fingers and tongue kept working me relentlessly, finally pushing me over the edge. I lunged forward, as much as I could against his strong frame. My orgasm hitting me like a strong wave, pulling me deeper into the ocean. I let out a muffled cry, shaking uncontrollably in his arms. But Carlisle wasn’t finished with me. Coming up with his head, he licked my remains from his lips, wiping the rest of it on his shirt. His hand still playing with my pussy, he pinned me down against the mattress, kissing me hungrily. He tasted like a mix of my slick, blood and his overwhelming scent, turning my bones into a puddle in his hands. I attempted to catch my breath, which was hard, when Carlisle definitely wasn’t set on showing any mercy. Processing what just happened, I clung to his body.
Carlisle Cullen may be the calm collected gentleman for everyone else, but in the bedroom, he was as filthy as one can get. The difference only I got to see, making me melt into his arms even more.
His hands were roaming over my body, making me squirm under his cold touch. I felt the heat rise in my core again, my body calling out for him. “Please…” I whimpered, hooking my legs around his waist, pulling him in. “So needy.” He mused, kissing his way down to my breasts. Him taking a hard nipple in his mouth, had me jolt in blissful pleasure. Desperately for more, I tugged on the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He understood what I wanted, standing up from the bed in one smooth motion. Then he was back on me again, his cold skin pressing against my hot body.
I could feel his hard cock rubbing against my core, twitching in anticipation. He guided his hard member into me, easing his way in slowly, but I was tighter than usual, another wave of cramps hitting me right when he entered me. I knew he could feel it, by the way he cursed under his breath. He stopped mid movement, jaw clenched, but his eyes showing me how much he cared for me. Waiting for me to give my okay. After a while I nodded, allowing him to fully bottom me out and when he did something between a moan and a painful hiss left my mouth.
“I am sorry, love.” He apologized, pulling back, but I kept him in place with my hands on my shoulder. “Its not you. I am cramping.” I let out, tensing up at the sudden pain shooting through me. “Just be careful.”
“Always.” Carlisle started to move slowly, distracting me from any pain with kissing me until my head spun. It didn’t take long for him to have me mewling his name again, eyes rolling back in my head. I held onto his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his waist giving him a better angle to fuck me.
He set a deep slow pace full on set to pleasure me as much and long as possible. I could feel how my walls started to accommodate him more, his cock soothing the cramps with every move. I hummed in pleasure, sinking into the pillows even more. “You feel so good. ‘S so good.” I mewled, not really caring how audible my words were. But his vampire hearing still enabling him to understand me.
“Let go, love. I got you. You are safe.” His words were water on a hot stone, instantly dissolving into steam clouding my mind. My limps were tingling, the knot in my stomach growing bigger and bigger every second, my brain completely short circuited, purely filled with his presence and the feeling of his delicate fingers, playing with my breast.
I barely processed, how he hovered over me, his full bodyweight supported with his left elbow, lips kissing every inch of my body. I was in heaven right now fucked by a literal god. And maybe him completely having me cock drunk in seconds was what got me to let out the most guttural moan I ever produced: “Daddy.”
It took me a few seconds to comprehend what just happened, but as soon as the realization fought its way through my fogged brain, I clasped a hand in front of my mouth. But Carlisle didn’t seem to mind my slip up one bit. Quite the opposite. He let out a low growl, nudging me with his nose. “That’s what I am to you? Your daddy? Fucking you so good you stop thinking properly, hm?” I just blankly stared at him, caught totally off guard by his shamelessness. “Is that what you want from me? Be my little girl, I take care off?” Shifting his weight, so he was now hovering over me with both arms pushing him upwards, he was now towering over me, his thrusts not even faltering one second. “Say it again, baby girl. Let everyone know who you belong to.”
“Daddy.” I moaned again, when he hit a particularly deep spot inside of me, pushing all the air out of my lungs. He smiled at me, leaning back on his ankles, while simultaneously raising my hips to fuck me deeper into the mattress. “Such a good little girl, you are. Taking your daddy so well.” He praised me, not letting go of my eyes. “Keep your eyes open. I wanna see you, when you make a mess on my cock. Oh, and what a mess you will make.”
I ripped my eyes open again, not being able to resist the soft English drawl he let slip in that moment. I could feel how the knot in my stomach was about to pop, threatening to throw me into the ocean of pleasure. And by the way he smiled down on me, he knew. Knew from the way I shivered in his hands, twitching uncontrollably around his cock. “Go on. Don’t be afraid, my love. I wanna see those beautiful eyes roll back in your head, when you come. Wanna feel how good I fuck you.” He spurred me on, smiling cockily.
And as on cue, I came.
Hard.
Back arching from the bed, my eyes rolling back inside my head. My whole body shivering in pure bliss from my orgasm, lips hanging open in a silent scream. I never came so hard and fast. The difference between the still sensual deep pace he thrusted into me and the rough filthy things he said to me, making my head spin in confusion. But Carlisle was not finished praising me: “That’s it. Ride it out, love. You are doing so good. Looking so beautiful like this.” I could feel myself leak on his lap, causing his cock to now draw even more lush noises from my pussy.
“Carlisle!” I cried out, now in complete subspace. “I need more. Please, daddy.”
“More from what?” He teased, not once faltering in his moves, driving me up the wall. “Use your words, little girl. Tell me what exactly it is that you want from me.”
“Harder, daddy. I need it harder. Need to feel you, please.” I begged, hands reaching out for him, trying to pull him down, but he resisted and I could hear the smugness in his words: “You already feel me, love.”
I cried out in desperation. “More. Need to feel you everywhere, daddy.” Finally, Carlisle gave in to my pleading, but different than what I expected. He pulled back from me, causing me to whine at the sudden loss of contact, but he shushed me quickly. “Shh, its alright, baby girl.” Manhandling me onto my stomach he hiked up one leg, settling between my thighs once again. And as he entered this time, he pressed me down with his full body. Effectively caging me in between his hard frame and the soft mattress.
“Yes.” I whimpered, feeling him thrusting much deeper into me than before. “Don’t stop. You’re making me feel so good, daddy. So safe. Thank you.”
“Always, love. Everything for you.” He growled in my ear and I could hear this whole situation didn’t let him be as unaffected as he firstly led on. The way he was now going harder, pinning my hands down with his strong fingers showed me how much it strained on his self control.
“Its okey, you can let go.” I mewled, arching my back to take him in a deeper angle, but he just groaned. “No. I am not finished with you yet.” The pure determination and possessiveness in his voice striking my once again. I moaned his name, calling out for him, earning a soft bite on my shoulder. “Such a good little girl. Taking me so well.” Sneaking a hand around my hip, he pressed two fingers on my clit, sloppily rubbing circles on it. “I wanna cum with you. Feel you around my cock, when I breed you. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, daddy.” I cried out, muffling my voice in the pillows. Goosebumps started to spread all over my body, a hot fire burning deep in my core once again. I clenched around his cock, eagerly wanting to milk him, feel his seed fill me up. Even though I knew I couldn’t get pregnant, the though of him breeding me whenever he liked, set things inside of me free, that I didn’t know I had.
A second shiver ran down my spine, spurring him on to fuck me even harder. His fingers were now moving faster, more demanding to give me a third orgasm. I started to shake uncontrollably, an indication for him, I was close. “I got you. Cum for me, love.” Was all he needed to say, to push me over the edge a last time. I came, a shivering mess underneath him. Clamping down on his cock, a muffled cry on my lips.
“Good girl.” He growled and I could feel him twitch inside of me, shooting his cold seed deep into my core. Riding out our orgasm he littered my back with kisses, leaving hot bitemarks behind, careful not to make them too visible. I gasped for air, blindly bucking against his frame, signaling it was getting to much for me. Instantly he, pulled out of me, starting to cuddle me, until his coldness made me shiver.
“Lets get you cleaned up, love and ready for bed.”
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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago
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Movie Night
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Summary: You and Javi are trying to pick a movie to watch together. When Javi decides to change into gray sweatpants to get more comfortable... something else besides movie watching ensues.
Word Count: 2.3K
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), established relationship, face fucking, oral (m receiving), mastrubation (f), praise kink, Javi in gray sweatpants (it deserves its own warning), reader has hair that can be held, Javi being a menace but still soft and sweet (because that's just how I roll)
A/N: This was inspired by an ask from an anon (thank you, non, Javi in gray sweatpants is everything), and I'm absolutely feral completely normal about it!!! Also, I had this gif in mind the whole time I was writing this because GOD DAMN 🥴🥵
This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!
“Forrest Gump?” 
“No…” 
“Jaws?” 
“No, not that either…” 
“Pulp Fiction?” 
“Not that one…” 
“Well ya gotta pick something Osita.” Javi sighed, laughing to himself at your indecisiveness as he put back the VHS tape choices he had pulled out for your weekly Friday night movie. Ever since the two of you had started dating, Friday nights had been exclusively reserved for you and Javi cuddling up on your couch, eating the pizza he picked up on the way home from work, and catching him up on the many movie classics he had missed since his time away in Colombia- a well deserved way to end both of your weeks. The first few weeks of movie night picks had been easy- mandating that Javi had to watch all of the Star Wars and Indiana Jones series (your two personal favorites) before moving on to anything else. You had let Javi pick what movies he had wanted to watch from there, mostly to curb any time wasted from your indecisiveness on choosing something. 
“Are you sure you don’t wanna pick?” You groaned, squatting down next to Javi as the two of you sorted through the movie collection under the TV stand. 
“Osita, I’ve picked like, the last 3 weeks in a row. I promise, I don’t care what we watch. I’ll make it easy on you. Here…” Reaching back into the TV stand, Javi pulled out a few random movies, scattering them on the ground before looking back at you. “I’m gonna go change out of my work clothes, pick something from these by the time I get back. Only 4 choices. Can’t be that hard, ya dork.” Javi chuckled, pressing a quick kiss onto your forehead before standing back up and making his way towards the bedroom. 
‘Fine…” You grumbled, shuffling through the choices that Javi had left. Reaching down next to you, you picked up “The Princess Bride”, deeming it the best of the 4 random tapes Javi had pulled from the TV stand, popping it in to the VHS player before settling back onto the couch, curling up in one of the blankets you had draped over the sides. “I picked something!” You shouted towards the bedroom, hearing Javi’s footsteps beginning to make their way down the hall. 
“See? Knew you could do it, Hermosa.” Javi’s voice trailed behind him as he stepped into the living room, playfully rolling his eyes at you. “So, what are we watching?” 
Truth be told, you hadn’t heard a single word Javi had said since you had watched him enter the living room- Not after seeing what he was wearing. 
He had changed out of his work attire and exchanged it for a fitted black t-shirt and gray sweatpants that left very little to the imagination. Javi had insisted to you that they really were the only pair of sweatpants that he had, but there was a part of you that was convinced he knew just how irresistible he looked in them, and that the sight of him in those pants made you absolutely feral. 
“Hmmmm?” You replied, visibly shaking your head to try and reel yourself in from the thoughts you were already having after seeing your boyfriend walk into the room in his new outfit. “Sorry, what did you say?” 
“I asked, what movie are we watching?” He nodded towards the TV as he sat next to you on the couch, legs splayed open in a way that had the outline of his bulge perfectly pressed against the gray fabric of his pants. You could practically feel your mouth watering as you looked down at his lap- you were trying your best not to stare, but you couldn’t help but swipe your tongue along your bottom lip breathing heavily as you looked up at Javi. 
“Or…” You smirked, working your way across the couch to crawl into Javi’s lap, straddling him with your legs on either side of his, running your fingers through the dark curls of his hair. “We could not watch the movie and do something else.” Your hands began to travel down Javi’s body, resting on his chest and grabbing at fist fulls of his shirt as your hips pressed down into his, feeling him starting to become hard underneath you, your kisses becoming desperate and frantic. 
“Something else, huh?” You could feel Javi’s boyish grin between the presses of your lips, his hands working their way up and down your body before digging into your hips as you rolled them against his lap. 
“Mhmmmmmm.” You nodded, reaching down to palm at Javi’s dick, straining against the fabric of his pants. “God, you look so good in these. You know what these sweatpants do to me, Jav?” Your kisses left Javi’s lips, slowly trailing down his body in hot, wet presses against the exposed skin of his neck and soft fabric of his shirt. You slid off Javi’s lap, kneeling on the ground in front of him, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants, springing free his cock, already painfully hard and leaking with precum. Javi lifted his legs, shuffling his pants down to pool around his ankles, letting your hands and kisses wander up his thighs. 
“Fuck me, Hermosa…” Javi groaned, leaning his head back against the edge of the couch as you planted hot kisses along his length, one hand slowly stroking the base of his shaft, the other running up and down the skin of his legs. “You wanna suck my dick, baby?” 
You smirked, gently shaking your head from side to side, looking up at Javi. “I- I want you to fuck my mouth, Javi.” 
Javi’s eyes went wide, jaw immediately going slack as your words left your mouth, visabally taking a moment to process your request. He reached down to cradle your face, forcing your gaze up towards his. “Baby… I don’t- Hermosa…are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you or anything.” 
Regardless of what either of you wanted in the bedroom, rough, soft, or anything in between, Javi’s first priority had always been making sure that first and foremost, you were comfortable. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about your request before- as much as he loved going down on you, Javi absolutely lost his mind every time you went down on him, and the thought of you on your knees, taking his cock deep down your throat as he fucked your mouth had him rock hard. 
“Javi,” You giggled, biting down on your lip, raising an eyebrow at him, “I’m positive. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t want to. I wanna make you feel good, baby.” Grabbing the hand gently cupping your cheek, you tugged at it, forcing him to stand up, running your hands up and down his thighs before removing one to lick a broad strip down your palm and wrap it around his shaft, slowly stroking it, making him groan. 
“Fuck me.” He muttered to himself, watching you wrap your hand around his length and taking him into your mouth, swirling the tangy mix of his arousal and your spit around your tongue. He ran his hand through the dark curls of his hair, trying his best to keep his composure, already so worked up from just the thought of what you were about to let him do alone. “If it’s too much, you let me know, okay? Tap my leg or my arm or whatever, and I’ll stop, no questions asked, I-” 
“Javi. I love you, baby. I wanna choke on your dick. I promise I’ll be okay.” You smirked, nodding in reassurance, hand still twisting around the base of his shaft, making its way up to thumb at his tip, red and leaking, sliding the mix of your saliva and his precum up and down his length. 
“Jesus. Okay, Hermosa. Open that pretty mouth for me, baby girl.” He reached down, thumb tugging at your bottom lip before sliding his hand along the back of your head, carefully cradling it as your jaw hinged open, sticking out your tongue for him to place his cock on. Your eyes batted up at him through heavy lashes, gripping around the back of his bare thighs as you let your mouth relax, his length hard and heavy against your tongue as you took him between your lips. He eased into your throat, setting a slow pace as his hips gently rocked as you took him deeper into your mouth, hearing him audibly moan as your fingertips dug into the skin of his legs, urging him to go deeper, pulling him closer to you. “You sure?” Javi looked at you, eyes wide as you nodded, humming against his cock in approval, as if he knew exactly what your little gesture had meant. 
Javi pulled back, pausing for a moment, a devilish smirk spreading across his face before pushing all the way back in, making you hollow your cheeks and breath through your nose, brushing up against the curls at his base, the sweet and musky scent of him filling your nostrils as you inhaled. “Oh fuck, Osita. Holy shit.” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching your mouth fill with his cock. His fingers ran through your hair, tugging a little tighter as his thrusts began to quicken, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull. “Fuck, such a good girl taking me so well. So fucking pretty when you suck my cock baby, holy fuck.” 
His other hand met his first, cupping the back of your head as he fucked into you, hitting the back of your throat as tears welled in your eyes and drool pooled from your lips as his cock consumed your mouth. You loved sucking Javi’s dick because you knew just how good it made him feel- watching his face all blissed out, leaving him a moaning and muttering mess. But this? Looking up at him through your heavy lids seeing the pure euphoria radiating off of him? It was unmatched.
 You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that had rapidly been building between your legs, feeling the wetness pooling in the fabric of your underwear. Desperate to ease your own needs, you shifted one of the hands that was holding the back of Javi’s thigh, bringing it down to snake down your sweatpants and the waistband of your panties, humming in relief around Javi’s length as you rubbed your clit, already throbbing and pulsing before your fingers had even touched it. Feeling the absent grip of your fingertips in his leg, Javi looked down to see you touching yourself as his cock thrusted in and out of your mouth, making his jaw even more slack, while his pace became more frantic and sloppy. 
 “You touching yourself, baby? Fuck- sucking my cock like this got you all worked up?” Javi groaned through gritted teeth as you nodded up at him with watery eyes, hollowing your cheeks to try and keep from gagging as he brushed against the back of your throat. “Fuck meeee.” He whimpered, not sure how much longer he was going to last watching you, feeling the tingle at the base of his spine already beginning to grow. “Dirty fucking girl. I’m not gonna last much longer, baby- shit- be a good girl and make yourself cum on those pretty little fingers for me, yeah? Wanna see you- oh fuck- wanna see you cum for me before I fuck myself down your throat.” 
Sliding deeper into your panties, you felt the slick covering your folds as you dipped your 2 fingers inside your heat, the palm of your hand bumping against your clit while you touched yourself, feeling equally as worked up and close to finishing as Javi was. Saliva spilled from the sides of your mouth as tears slid down your cheeks as Javi’s cock filled every inch of your mouth, the veins of his dick throbbing along your tongue. You could feel your pussy begin to flutter as your hands slid in and out of your dripping entrance, arousal pooling in your belly with each brush of your palm along your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your whimpers and moans humming around Javi’s cock had him reeling, his fingers gripping tighter around the ends of your hair as he cradled the back of your head, as he pushed deeper down your throat.
 Suddenly, you could feel the coil inside you snap, your cunt clenching hard around your fingers as your orgasm ripped through you, your eyes squeezing shut and the breathing through your nose becoming heavier as you came. Knowing that you had hit your high, Javi sought relentlessly to reach his own, desperately thrusting into you. “Fuck me, Osita. Fuck. I’m so close baby, shit, gonna fill up that pretty mouth of yours. Meirda, Hermosa, ay dios mío, voy a-aahhhhhhhhh  (Shit, Beautiful, oh my god, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh).” With one more push of his hips, Javi’s spilled himself inside you, hot ropes of his spend coating the back of your throat as his cock throbbed, milking himself of every last drop before pulling back out of your mouth. Both of your breaths were slow and heavy, Javi’s hand resting under your chin, tilting your messy, wet face up towards his as you swallowed, taking his cum down your throat.
“Jesus Christ…” He whispered to himself, his jaw still slack and eyes wide as he looked down at you, a devilish grin now growing across his face. “Fuck me. Fuck, that was so hot. You okay, baby?” He asked, pulling you up to stand as you used the back of your hand to wipe the spit still dripping from the edges of your lips. 
“More than okay.” You smirked, pressing up on your tiptoes to plant a hot kiss on his lips, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “We’re gonna have to get you new sweatpants, Jav.” You giggled, still laughing at the fabric pooled around his ankles. Javi tilted his head in confusion, reaching down to shuffle his pants and boxers over his legs. 
“Why’s that, Hermosa?” 
“Because if you keep putting on those sweatpants every time we’re supposed to watch a movie, I don’t think we’re ever gonna watch a movie again.”
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shadeysprings · 1 year ago
Text
YOU
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—Art Collector!Steve Kemp x F!Reader
Summary — Your unexpected meeting with the famous art collector takes a dark turn when you learn the secret of his private collection.
Warnings — oral (female receiving), dismembered bodies, disrespect to the dead, entrapment, plots of killing, serial killer vibes, Steve being a calm psycho. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.
Word Count — 5.4K
A/N — Story #1 for my FREAKtober Fest. The fic was heavily inspired by the movie itself and House of Wax. I'm happy to finally explore Steve's character in writing and I must say, I enjoyed every bit of it. The title was taken from the song You.
Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp
Shout out to @vellicore and @sgt-seabass for bouncing ideas with me and being my beta.
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️
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They didn’t come.
It was all you could think about as almost 2 hours had passed since your grad show started. Despite your parents’ — mostly your mom’s — disapproval of pursuing an arts program, you still invited them to the show. You hoped that if they saw what you were truly doing, they would understand your passion for paints and charcoal.
But it was a long shot, and you knew that. Though at least you tried…right?
You envy your classmates who carry bouquets while they present their artwork to their families and strangers alike. You were lucky enough to have a few come by your cubicle, delighted to explain the medium and process of your work. Some seemed genuinely intrigued while others, you can tell, only came by and endured your talk for the free stickers you offered at the end of your spiels.
Another hour passes by and you look up front when you hear an announcement being made by your instructor; a class photo. You’re reluctant to join, seeing no value in such a thing to be done as it’s obvious that once the day ends, they will be strangers once again. But another adamant call from your instructor has you heading to the front, a frown forming on your face when you’re pushed at the back, towered by your classmates—unseen once more. 
As parents and several others grab the opportunity to take a photo, your eyes suddenly divert back to your cubicle when you see someone looking over at your main art piece. You can’t put a pin on his face but you know you’ve seen him before. 
Once the group photo has ended, you immediately head back to your spot, catching the familiar stranger taking one of your stickers as well as a business card that sits beside it. It’s when you finally recognize him—and you’re in utter shock that he would be looking at your work. He finally notices you, a smile on his face as he holds out his hand. 
“Hi.” He begins, “I’m—”
“You’re Steve Kemp.” You finish for him, the confidence you suddenly displayed startling the both of you. But you push on when you see a smile of amusement on his face, taking his hand to shake. “You’re the famous art collector.” You wouldn’t have known it was him with how dressed down he looked with the corduroy jacket and navy jeans, but you’ve seen his face several times in art articles that you wouldn’t miss it.
“I wouldn’t say I’m famous.” He humbles himself but he lacks the conviction to make it believable. “I think I’m just skilled in finding pretty things—like this one.” He gestures towards your charcoal painting, the look of interest evident on his face. “What compelled you to incorporate a whale and an astronaut? What’s the story behind it?”
His question makes you smile. Maybe he is interested, you think to yourself and look towards your artwork before diving deep into your answer. 
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“The artwork was inspired by the 52 Hertz Whale.” You begin. “Just to give you a little background; out of all the whale species, it’s the only one that makes a call with such a distinct pitch. Researchers had guessed that it could be a hybrid of two whale species but any attempts to search for the creature for further study have failed. Though some have been saying that it’s not a whale but an entirely different animal.
“Loneliness was the main theme of the piece—just like the whale, if it truly exists, it is alone in the vast sea; with no family to call its own and with it being different from the others, no one would listen or understand their cries. Akin to the lonely astronaut floating in the endless void of space. Though the flowers and the seagull represent hope and freedom—that one day, everything they thought to be true would change, that someone is there to listen and welcome them in their arms.”
You feel yourself shiver and your heart race as you end your interpretation. How the art piece truly mirrors your life and your cry for recognition from the people who truly matter. You try your best not to shed the tears that well in your eyes, presenting the collector with a smile and hoping he sees it as passion and confidence. 
But the look on his face startles you; there’s no judgment but you see a hint of amusement in his sapphire eyes. You think he’s about to say something, to comment on what you said, instead, he looks back at the artwork, seemingly appraising it. 
“How much?” The question stuns you. Did you hear correctly?
“I’m sorry?” 
“I want to buy your art piece.” He expounds. “How much are you selling it for?”
That’s the last thing you expected to be asked in a college grad show. Was he seriously wanting to purchase it? You try to answer, to tell him that you’re not really looking for buyers nor expecting to sell any of your work but no words come out of your mouth, still taken aback by his surprising inquiry.
“I don’t—” You stutter. “I’m not really—”
The chuckle he makes has you pulling on the cuffs of your oversized flannel, feeling slightly anxious at the thought that he’s making fun of your state of shock. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says with a smile, one that you mimic if only to ease the tension building within you. “But I am serious. I do want to buy it.”
Still, you don’t know what to say. Do you just give him an amount and call it a day?
“Why don’t you sit on it? Let’s say two days and I can give you a call for your price.” He holds up your business card between two fingers, the smile on his face turning into a playful smirk. “What do you say?”
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Under-dressed.
Not that it was a concern you realistically should have but the patrons of the bar made you feel as such with the men clad in suit jackets and the women, either in dresses or whatever you call the style of attire that was classier than your hoodie-jeans-sneakers combo. At least you brought a coat—that’s fancy enough, right?
You nurse your Bellini cocktail and thumb through your phone while waiting for Steve, popping your conversation thread with him every second or two just to assure yourself that he confirmed, or rather, planned the night of drinks to discuss your “Lonely Whale” piece as he coined it. It seemed odd at first but his determination was what compelled you to agree to meet him. 
The hiss of the straw fills your ears as you suck the last dregs of your drink. You shouldn’t have come early, you tell yourself, then you wouldn’t need to order another glass to accompany you on your wait. 
“Need a top-up?” A familiar voice from behind startles you and you look up to see Steve, decorated in a maroon wool sweater and that tantalizing smile he seems to always have. “I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad coming here to this part of town.” He says as he takes a seat beside you in the booth. 
You scoot over to give him room, surprised that he didn’t take the one across from you. “Please, don’t be sorry. I wasn’t waiting long.” You assure him with a soft smile, tapping a finger on the rim of your glass. “The drink kept me company.”
“Are they any good?” He asks but he’s already called the attention of a server before you can even reply. He orders a Bloody Mary—quite peculiar, you think, but you’re not one to judge someone's preference. “And the lady will have another, please.” 
Silence envelops the both of you as you wait for the drinks to arrive, feeling shy and anxious when he rests his arm against the back of the booth and turns in his seat to face you. You’re not used to being seen yet here’s this man, well-known in the field you didn’t think to excel in giving you such unwarranted attention. 
“Uhmm, so I asked my instructor about the painting,” you begin as you try to break the ice, “and he said that—” but stop when he shakes his head and lets out a gentle laugh. 
You think he’s playing at your lack of knowledge of these types of transactions that it makes you second-guess your words. Maybe you should have come off more confident and prevented showing him an inkling of your cluelessness. But the smile he sends your way speaks of something different. There is no presence of ill-intent yet you still keep your guard up. 
“We can talk business later. I’d like to get to know the artist more first.” He says and for some reason, it could be how comfortable he seems to be around you, that you nod at his request, a soft smile forming on your lips. 
“Well, what do you want to know?”
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Giggling. 
It’s been a while since you’ve done it but you guess after 4 glasses of the Bellini and a sip of his Bloody Mary, anyone would be in a lighter and more carefree mood. Just like how you are. 
The anxiety that filled you when you first walked into the bar seems non-existent with how well Steve carries a conversation. He listened to you complain and laughed at your sarcastic comments, throwing back another to keep the exchange alive. There was no dull moment to be recorded, only understanding when you shared the struggle of an art student living in a fast-paced environment. He’s probably the first person in your life who knows almost everything there is to know about you and even if he is a total stranger, he feels more familiar than any other. 
The night rolls by quicker than you’d hoped and the next thing you know you’re in his car, the alcohol messing with you as you begin belting out garbled lyrics to an Adele song. You’ve never felt so free and relaxed, and who would have thought you’d find it in someone who simply wants to buy your art project? 
You arrive shortly at your apartment building, a curious thought passing through your head as you don’t recall typing in your address in the GPS. But it goes just as quickly as it came when the passenger door is opened and Steve holds out a hand to help you out. 
He says your name, the syllables rolling like honey on his tongue and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way the moon shines against his face, but you truly notice how his sapphire eyes glow brighter with how close he stands to you, his cologne permeating your senses and his warmth mixing with yours, keeping away the cold autumn breeze of the night that surrounds the both of you. 
“I had a lovely evening.” He breathes, allowing him to take your hand in his. “And I don’t want it to end just yet.”
And it doesn’t. 
You invite Steve into your apartment for coffee, something to help completely sober him up and drive home safe. But as soon as you close the door and toe off your shoes, his hands are on your face and his lips capture yours, a soft grunt escaping you when he presses you against the door. You’re too stunned to process that he’s kissing you, only finally realizing it when he breaks the kiss and looks at you with his eyes so blue. 
You think he’s about to speak, to apologize for his forwardness, but instead he smiles while his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. You don’t understand what he sees in you to warrant such soft affection, or to even consider you as someone to kiss. 
He leans closer once more, this time you sense the apprehension in his movements and with the way his eyes linger on your face. You shut your brain off completely, not wanting reason and rationality to stop whatever force that was pulling you together. So you meet him halfway, hands resting against his chest when you press your lips against his, a moan escaping you as when you feel him pull you further into the kiss. 
To say he was a good kisser was an understatement with the way his wet muscle caressed your own and how his lips wrestle you into a passionate exchange. He chuckles when he bumps against a side table while walking backwards, blindly into the living room, hands pawing at each other, groping, touching, and you lift up his sweater as the desire to feel his skin blooms in your head. 
But he doesn’t give you that chance as you drop back onto your loveseat couch, Steve’s hands pushing up your hoodie to expose the tank top hidden within. His fingers tickle your skin, teasing, taunting, and in one swift move he pulls down the cups of your bra having your tits spill out from them. 
Mewls and moans are the only sounds that leave your lips, coherent words nonexistent with how his lips wrap around a mound, sucking, licking, and dampening the fabric to expose your stiff nipples which he gives his undivided attention to. You try to reach for him, to at least make sure that this is all real and not a dream, but his hands take yours, preventing you from even running your finger through his dark hair, the act only heightening your senses further. 
But his venture to your breasts eventually stops and you look down at him when he trails butterfly kisses against your stomach, hands releasing yours only to undo the button and fly of your jeans. The garment flies but your panties stay, and you swear you could almost combust just from the way he looks at you—his eyes swirling with hunger, eagerness, and desperation for a taste. 
Slowly, he trails kisses against your inner thighs, lips, and teeth meeting skin, not hard enough to hurt but enough to feel. The nervousness swirls around you like twine, making your heart beat loudly against your chest as everything feels too new, too alien, despite this no longer being your first. But you’ve never encountered anyone as captivating as Steve and you feel as if he would run away once he sees you completely. 
“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers into the air, his warm breath grazing against your heated core. 
It’s only then you comprehend what he’s done, your panties pushed to the side to expose you completely before him and all at once you feel your body burn when he laves his tongue against your pussy lips, gentle at first, testing the waters which shift to intent as he pushes them apart with his fingers, your sacred bud caressed by his expert tongue. 
You whisper his name as he begins delving into your pussy, strong hands keeping your thighs apart and pushing them down against the couch with his groans of pleasure filling your ears and fueling your desire for him. You reach down to run your fingers through his hair which you end up grabbing as a gasp is pulled from your lungs when he begins to suck your clit. 
The room feels like it's spinning with the ecstasy that climbs higher within your body, your senses no longer feeling like your own as Steve pushes on with his pursuit, his mouth dancing beautifully against your clit, his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. But he stops, and a small wave of panic arises in your chest. Though it washes away like footprints on the sand when he ventures lower, his thumb taking purchase of your clit, rolling and adding pressure while his mouth ventures lower, teasing your slit at first before slowly pushing inside. 
Oh, how your body sings. Your back arches from the coach and you call out his name, louder this time, turning into a moaning mess as his regard to your cunt never wavers. You then feel the dam filling up at the pit of your stomach and all you can do is buck your hips against his mouth, encouraging—no—pushing him to pull you over the edge. 
“Steve—” It’s all you manage to say, your breath catching in your throat. 
His actions then become erratic, as if he can feel you teetering towards your peak, pulling you more to his mouth and devouring you whole. Sloppy, wet sounds of his mouth echo from below your waist, Steve letting out a low and guttural growl which only sets you ablaze. His thumb pushes more onto your clit, the pressure digging into your pelvis and finally having the dam at the pit of your abdomen burst.
Your body shakes and you grab onto Steve as your pussy walls flutter from your release, choking a sob as your sweet essence flows out of you. His awaiting mouth then laps each and every drop you offer, the sensation making you shiver yet at the same time cocoons you in euphoric bliss. 
The alcohol in your system then appears, mixing with the pleasure that continues to loom around you, and your eyes begin to droop, a smile forming on your lips. Your limbs ache deliciously, cunt buzzing from the orgasm that has taken over. You feel tired all of a sudden but happy at the same time and you forget all, even Steve, as you’re ready to end the night with such a good note. 
But a tap on your thigh pulls you from the serene moment, startling slightly to see Steve looking down at you with a grin painted on his face. “Stay awake, Baby.” He says, his hand running up your side and grabbing the hem of your hoodie. “I’m not yet done with you.”
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Nervous.
It’s all you feel as you stand outside of Steve’s home—if you could even call it that. With the modern exterior and floor-to-ceiling windows of the one-story home, you’d think you’re about to enter a museum. But it’s only reasonable for him to have such a lavish abode; he is an art collector after all. 
“You okay?” You turn your head to the side to face him when he stands beside you, his warmth brushing against your skin as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close.
“A bit—but more excited really.” You tell him, the giddiness of seeing his private collection dominating the restlessness you felt earlier. 
“Only the people who matter have seen it.” The smile he gives you is so contagious that you give one back and follow him inside his home.
After the night spent at your apartment, your life slowly revolved around Steve. Mornings begin and nights end with him and his attentiveness—one that you found more endearing than suffocating, as what some people you assume would say if they knew of your relationship. 
You don’t even know if you both have a relationship as neither of you discussed anything about labels, simply enjoying each other’s company. But you know that Steve has rooted himself deep in you, and you know that no matter how hard you try if anything comes that would sever you both, you’d have a hard time letting him go. Steve is the only one who has truly seen you and accepted you as you are.
A chill brushes your skin when you pass through the threshold of his home which has you pulling your knitted jacket more around your frame for warmth, and the first thing you see are the gallery lights mounted on the wall, with each one shining down on art pieces of different forms. The ones that stand by the door are wax figures of a woman’s pair of legs, one on each side. You look at it closely, the craftsmanship so intricate that you’d think it was real. The ones that come after it are different sets of arms and hands of women, again, each one posed differently and elegantly, as if welcoming you further down the hall.
It gives you pause with how unusual of a collection it is—women’s body parts—but you suppose that the world of art is filled with oddities. There was even one you heard who collects glass eyeballs, not caring if it was worn or not.
What greets you next are several paintings—if you can even call it as such—that litter the wall just the same, though you’ve never seen anything like it; one is of a canvas that houses different strands of hair that form into waves. You’re in awe with how they mimic the raging seas and how detailed and time consuming it must have been to complete. There’s even an image of a boat topped over it, as you inspect closely, you assume is made of leather. 
There’s another like it, though this seemed more like a showcase of all types of tresses, spaced out perfectly in rows of five. Each one portrayed a distinct person, with colors ranging from blonde to black and textures from curly to the straightest you’ve seen. The urge to touch it grows strong, wanting to check if they’re real or not.
“They’re real,” Steve answers your unspoken question, and you turn back to face him, feeling shy all of a sudden when you see him staring at you. “I call it live art.”
“You made this?”
“Oh, no.” He smiles as he nears the artwork, Steve’s hands tucked inside his pockets while he looks up at it. “I had it made. Though I did provide the materials—volunteers donated the hair.” His explanation has you thinking; you never knew people would donate something so personal for art. “I’m hoping to add more to the collection—a prized one that can be my center of attention.” He says and you catch him looking at you from your periphery. 
“What kind of prized piece?” You ask, curiosity nipping at the back of your head. 
“Something I could never get tired of looking at.” The smile he gives you sends a chill up your spine but your mind flows out into a daze when he steps forward and takes your face between his hands, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. “Like you.” He whispers and you can’t help but feel your face heat up with how beautiful he makes you feel. 
“Come on. There’s more in the living room and I wanted to show you where I would place your painting.” He says, giving you one last kiss before taking your hand and leading further inside. But you don’t miss the piece that sits just at the end of the hall; a torso of a woman, the composition almost similar to Alexndros’ Venus de Milo, except this one was missing its head. 
The living room is a sunken living room and it’s just as exquisite as the front of the house with paintings and figurines scattered in an organized fashion. Two couches sit on either side of a low table with a small cart that holds an array of spirits. You look around, mesmerized at the beauty he keeps within but stop when you notice a small greek style column sitting in the corner of the room. 
“What’s that?” You ask, pointing at the unusual fixture. 
“That’s just a chair a friend of mine made.” He responds while pouring the both of you some drinks. “It’s pretty cozy even if it’s made out of stone. Why don’t you try it out? Pretend you’re an art piece.” He urges and the giddiness you feel allows you to humor him. 
Soft jazz music then begins to play as you run your hand against the top, having a feel of the material before you take a seat, grabbing onto the sides to properly set yourself on top of it. The smile you catch on Steve’s face is wide as he approaches you and hands you your drink, his hand reaching up to caress your face. 
“You look perfect on it.” He sips on his drink and so do you. 
You can’t help but look at his eyes, how soft they look yet full of amidst the muted lighting that surrounds the both of you. You feel his hands continue to linger on your skin, resting gently on your shoulder with his thumb caressing the expanse of your neck. 
“Dance with me.” 
It’s all he says and you don’t have time to respond when he takes the glass from your grasp, setting both of them on the shelf that stands nearby and he reaches for you, his hands taking yours and placing them over his shoulders while his own finds purchase around your waist.
It feels like you’re walking on clouds with how he sways the both of you, his movements in sync with the music that fills the air. He holds you close, feeling his fingers drumming lightly on your back and how your feet follow him aimlessly, blindly with each step he makes. You’re suddenly aware of the intimacy that slowly winds the both of you, much different from the times he’s slept on your bed, and you feel shy, eyes casting down to stare at the edge of his navy turtleneck.
“Don’t hide from me, Baby,” He breathes softly, tilting your head back when he pinches your chin and feeling the warmth of his breath ghost against your lips. “I want to see you.”
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Giddy.
It’s the only feeling you describe as soon as you wake up, your body sore but in a good way and the sheets atop the mattress warm, not just because of you but from the man that sleeps soundly at your side. You turn to face Steve and examine his face, his beautiful pointed nose and his dark hair askew from the pillow underneath his head. 
You couldn’t believe your luck that someone like him would find interest in someone like you. You must have done something good in your previous life to feel such happiness that the neglect and disapproval you once received from the people you expected to love you is being provided by someone you’ve barely known for a week. 
Good things come to an end, you hear the pessimist in you say but you push it down, deep down where you cannot hear its cry. You’re going to enjoy this, whatever this is, and if time comes that it should indeed come to a stop—well, you’ll cross the bridge when you get there. 
You move to cuddle closer to Steve, wanting to feel more of his warmth but it’s interrupted by your need for relief that you settle on placing a kiss on his forehead before turning to leave the bed and find the restroom.
Washing your hands when you finish, you find a robe hanging at the back of the door and boldly take it, putting it around you to shield you from the cold that continues to circulate within the house and venture back to his room—back to Steve’s arms. Except the lone light that shines in the darkness catches your eyes and you glance towards the bedroom. You don’t want to be caught snooping but the call of the void is too strong for you to ignore. 
Silently, you pad down the hall and find yourself face to face with a staircase that leads to a closed door. Must be the basement, you think to yourself, taking one step at a time, you descend to your destination. You hesitate to hold the knob, not wanting to spoil your welcome but you soldier on, pushing through the barrier. 
A row of yellow muted light illuminates the entryway, and you see nothing but several black barrels neatly pushed against the wall and a few scrubs hanging from mounted hooks. You thought you would see more artwork but are left disappointed, deciding to turn back but the white light at the end of the room stops you, curiosity once more taking over your senses.
Fear then grips you tight when you step into the light, hands flying to your mouth and a gasp unwillingly escaping you when you see a woman laid down on a metal table with her lower half missing and her head free of her scalp. What hangs on the wall makes your stomach turn even further, body parts—arms, legs and a severed head coated in something you can only assume to be wax.
You run. Your heart beats hard against your chest as you make it back again to the door and close it as quietly as you can, not wanting to awaken your host—a monster you never thought him to be. Carefully, though quickly, you climb the steps and the only thing you could think of is to leave and run as far as you can where he cannot find you. 
Relief slowly washes over you when you get to the last step. Now all you have to do is go—call the authorities and—your thoughts take a dive when you feel someone grab you by the waist, trapping your arms along with it and a hand covering over your mouth as well as your nose.
“Where were you, Baby?” Steve’s calm voice forms from behind and your panic only rises further. You struggle against his hold, flailing as much as you can for him to let you go but he’s too strong and you feel the tears spill from your eyes as you think that this is the end. He’s caught you. You’re going to die. 
“You never should have seen that.” He simply says and you grunt when a stabbing pain forms on your neck, a cool sensation flowing through your veins. 
It’s then that he lets you go, your hand flying to where you felt the sting before turning to look at him. What did he do to you? You notice the syringe in his hand. Is it poison? Your vision almost instantly goes blurry, your limbs heavy and you drop to the floor, eyes cast to the ceiling as you try to make out your current state. The last thing you see is Steve, a sinister smile on his face and incoherent words coming from his lips before everything goes dark. 
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You’re dead.
It’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you come to. Everything slowly comes into clarity; the room you’re in is somewhere you’ve not been and the cool metal you feel around your ankle only solidifies the fact that he’s successfully trapped you in the hell he dwells in.
A door opens and closes and you curl up small on the bed you lay in to hide yourself from him. You’re crying once again a multitude of emotions surge from within—is it fear? Hopelessness? Anger? Towards him for lying to you or to yourself for believing him. 
“I never wanted you to find out this way.” He sighs. “I never wanted you to find out at all.”
“Are you going to kill me?” You can’t help but ask, even though you know what the answer is.
“Not yet.” His calm in his voice brings a chill to your spine. “Despite what you believe, I meant what I said; you matter to—”
“Stop lying to me!” You shout and sit up from the bed, grabbing the pillow on the bed and throwing it at him. “Why are you doing this?! What did I do to deserve this?! Why me?!” You shout, the anger that was settling in your bones turns into a raging fire. You go to lunge for him, wanting to rip his skin with your bare hands but the cuff on your foot stops you, making you fall to the ground in front of him. 
He tuts and you see his leather shoes in front of you. A groan then leaves your tongue when he grabs you by your face, your hand taking hold of his wrist as you try to pull away from him. But he only pinches tighter, making you shout in pain that fades all too quickly when he shakes you and makes you face him dead in the eyes.
“The more you fight, the harder it’ll be.” He snips. “I enjoy you a lot—don’t make me kill you so soon.”
“Just fucking do it!” You spit. “Do it! Kill me now!”
The laugh he gives you is menacing. He shakes his head, his other hand moving to run his finger on the side of your face. You see the darkness swirling around the sapphires of his eyes and you question yourself why, for the many times he’s stared at you, you’ve never seen it before. 
“Soon.” He promises. “For now, I’ll keep you. I don’t mind that column being empty just a little longer.”
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