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#whatever it is I love it with all my heat
andvys · 23 hours
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter seventeen ⭐︎ What am I supposed to do? If there’s no you.
Warnings: slight angst, mentions of unrequited love, mean!robin, slight jealousy, this chapter is mostly written from Robin's pov and there are only a few moments of Steve's and Blondie's pov
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Robin uncovers Steve's secrets and more... but he doesn't get the reactions from her that he expected.
Word count: 6k+
Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I came up with some new ideas for the story and uh, buckle up and enjoy it... hehehe also thanks for helping me, my love
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter
Steve’s smile seems permanent nowadays, never falling, always lingering, even when Keith is scolding him about something he had done wrong or hadn’t done at all. 
His skin is glowing and his eyes are full of happy emotions, he seems giddy, always excited about something. 
Until now, Robin was sure that she had seen him happy before – when he saw her again after she went on a two weeks trip with her mom, when his favorite movie came out and he dragged her to the theater, when he found the perfect brown coat that he had been looking for at every store for weeks. 
And yes, he was happy in these moments, but this, the happiness that is stuck on his face now, is something else, something different, something deep.
And whatever it is that is making him happy, should make her feel the same way, because he is her best friend, and all that she wants for him is exactly this – happiness. But how can she feel any positive emotions, when he is keeping secrets from her? When he isn’t letting her be part of this? When he is cutting her out? 
Robin was always sure that they would never keep secrets from each other, but it’s happening, it’s happening again for her, being pushed aside, being left out, losing a best friend – because this is what it is, right? She is losing him, he is beginning to cut her out of his life, not telling her things he would’ve normally not shut up about, because he talks about everything with her, at least he used to. 
This is how it always begins, this is always the first step of losing a friend. She is no stranger to it. 
But it hurts, it hurts worse than it ever did before. 
Because this is Steve, someone she considers a soulmate. 
Someone she thought would never do this to her. 
“What’s with the grumpy face?” Steve asks, pulling her out of her depressing thoughts. 
Robin raises her eyebrows, looking away from the passing trees, she sinks deeper into the passenger seat and turns her head to look at him, shrugging. 
“Is everything okay?” Steve asks as he glances at her with a look of concern. 
No. 
She should say no and confront him but she doesn’t know how without making things awkward, without pressuring him to talk, without risking losing him sooner than later. 
“Yeah,” she mumbles and reaches for the backpack between her feet, busying herself with it as she rummages through the tiny pockets to find her chapstick. 
“Are you sure?”
She can’t help but roll her eyes at the skeptic tone in his voice, she keeps her head low, gaze locking onto the chapstick she has been looking for, she picks it out and leans back again. 
“Yeah, just tired,” she murmurs. 
Steve keeps glancing back and forth between her and the road, holding the steering wheel tightly as he shoots her a teasing smirk, lowering the volume of the song playing. 
“Long night with Vickie?” 
Her lips twitch and despite the annoyance bubbling inside of her, her cheeks heat up, growing darker until she’s blushing red. She applies her chapstick, welcoming the peach taste on her lips. She can feel his eyes on her, and it only makes her blush deeper as she hides her face from him. 
It confirms his question and it makes him chuckle. 
“I’m glad you’re having fun, Robin.”
“Shut up,” she murmurs under her breath, unable to fight the redness off her cheeks. She closes the chapstick again, putting the cap back into place, she leans down to put it back in her backpack when it falls from her hands and rolls under the seat, making her groan and curse in annoyance. 
“Always turning into a klutz when you’re nervous,” Steve comments, causing her to glare at him. 
“I’m not nervous.”
Steve chuckles, narrowing his eyes at her, “yes you are, I mention Vickie and you’re turning into a blushing, nervous little girl with a first crush even though she is literally your girlfriend.” 
“That is so not true!” She gapes at him, despite it being true. 
He shakes his head in amusement, “yes it is, in case you forgot, you’re my best friend, I know you like the back of my hand and right now, you’re nervous!” 
Maybe his words should put her mind at ease, maybe they should be enough to show her that she is not losing him, after all, but it’s not that easy, is it? 
She only rolls her eyes in response and looks away, turning back to the window and looking out at the downtown streets now. She feels relieved to see the Family Video sign, looking forward to jumping out of his car and throwing herself into work so she can stop thinking about her depressing thoughts and giving into the fears of losing him. 
Maybe she is just overthinking, the way she always does. 
The moment Steve stops the car, Robin gets out and slams the door, opening the one to the backseat so she can look for her chapstick. She leans down and squints her eyes, patting the car mats before she stretches her arm out under the seat, trying to find it. 
Steve walks around the car and stops in front of her, his eyes flash with amusement as he takes in the sight of his best friend, her eyebrows squished together, tongue poking out between her lips, her body angled uncomfortably as she searches for her newest chapstick. 
“I swear to god is there a portal all my chapsticks vanish to?” She grumbles.
Steve snorts at her words, “yeah, I’m sure they all pile up in the upside down somewhere.” 
“I wouldn’t be surprised! Every time I buy a new chapstick it just fucking disappears!” 
“That’s because you leave them everywhere,” Steve chuckles, placing his hands on his hips as he keeps watching instead of helping. His grin grows when she throws the middle finger at him. 
The look of concentration on Robin’s face, transforms into something else, confusion and curiosity, her brows shoot up instead, her lips parting as she reaches for not only her chapstick but also something else, something soft, something lacy. She pulls it out from under the seat, hooking it around her pointer finger, she holds it up in front of her face, examining it before revealing it to Steve. 
A lacy thong. 
One that clearly belongs to a girl. 
One that surely wasn’t there a few weeks back when she helped him clean his car. 
So her suspicions weren’t right, after all – she would’ve been surprised if they were. 
Steve has been so secretive about whoever it is that he is seeing, she knows that they don’t belong to any of the girls he was hooking up with at the beginning of this year, and she doesn’t even need to see his face to confirm something she already knows. 
But if it isn’t one of them and if it isn’t a guy after all, who is he seeing? 
Is it someone he is ashamed of? 
Is that the reason why he is being so secretive, why he keeps sneaking around behind her back and not telling her the truth about something he wouldn’t have shut up about if it were anyone else? 
“Robin?” 
Steve’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts and she slowly turns around to face him, with the thong in one hand and her chapstick in the other. 
His hands fall off his hips, his hazel eyes grow wide, his lips part and his cheeks grow a cherry red when he sees the flimsy material hanging off her finger. 
For a moment, she forgets about his secrets and how much it hurts her that he is hiding from her. The look on his face is so comical, she can’t even help but let the giggles tumble from her lips as she raises back to full height, standing right in front of him as she laughs in his face. 
His cheeks grow redder and redder, making her laugh harder. 
“I-I uh–” Steve stutters, unable to come up with words to say. 
“I-I uh,” Robin mocks him through her giggles, “whose are these?” She asks as she lets them dangle in front of his face, stretching her arm out. 
Steve rolls his eyes at her, his blush continuing to grow beneath her gaze. His shoulders slump and his mind panics as he tries to think of what to say. 
What can he say? 
That these belong to Heidi or Linda or whoever else it was that he had boring sex with before you? 
Steve can’t even bring himself to lie, not even to save himself and you. 
He can’t mention another girl, just uttering these words would make him feel awful. He can’t do it. He just can’t. 
“Hm?” Robin tilts her head, wiggling her brows at him.
As he stands in front of her and he looks into her curious eyes that are layered with something more, he can’t help but wonder what would happen if he just told her. He wants to talk about it, he wants to talk about you, he wants to talk about his feelings that he could only keep to himself so far. 
But what would Robin think knowing how horrible he was to you? How horrible you have both been to each other? 
She would try to talk some sense into him and make him stop this thing between you and he isn’t ready to let this go, he will never be. 
So he turns around and leaves her question unanswered, knowing that she won’t stop until she gets the truth out of him and it makes him nervous but what can he do? 
He doesn’t see the way her shoulders slump, the way her eyes cross with defeat, the way she sighs and looks down. 
“Come on, we got more important things to do then talk about thongs, Robin.” 
“Right,” she murmurs as her teasing smile slowly falls, she throws the black lace back into the car and slams the door before she follows him into the store, staring at his back as she walks behind him. 
Steve greets Keith a little kinder than usual, he walks with his back straight and his head held high, he whistles as he makes his way into the office to clock in and she stays quiet, watching closely, observing him and the fresh hickeys on his neck, the ones that haven’t been there yesterday afternoon when he dropped her off at Vickie’s. It’s always the same exact spot, sometimes his neck is littered in them but there is always that one special spot that never misses the mark on his skin, that little spot behind his ear. 
That’s how she knows that it’s only one girl that he is seeing and she is also the reason why he is turning down all the others that have been shooting their sickly sweet smiles at him. Something he wouldn’t have done a few months back. 
“Are you bringing Vickie tonight?” Steve asks as he throws on his vest, “to game night, I mean?” 
Robin furrows her brows, looking over her shoulder at him, “game night? I figured we’d never do that again after what happened with you and uh… Blondie,” she chuckles nervously. 
Something in his eyes shifts, something in his demeanor changes for a moment. Sadness, anger and regret crosses his features and she sees it all so clearly but she isn’t surprised, she didn’t mean to strike a nerve but she knows she did. 
He felt awful after the words he threw at you, that night. 
And knowing him, he still feels the same even when you get along now. 
But there is something else in his eyes, something she can’t figure out yet. 
Steve breaks eye contact and he scratches the back of his neck as he keeps his eyes trained on the ground. 
“I uh, yeah that will never happen again.” 
She doesn’t quite understand the meaning his words hold. 
And at that time, she also doesn’t know yet, that only a few hours later, she will finally get closer to the answers she has been seeking, that her eyes will be more open to what is happening right in front of her nose. 
Because that night, she notices something she hasn’t paid much attention to before but a feeling inside of her, tells her that she should have done that a long time ago. 
And maybe, maybe she is just seeing things that aren’t there, that her eyes betray her and want to give her something just so she can put her mind to rest but even after rubbing her eyes, even after squinting and trying to see with a clear mind, the sight in front of her is still there and very much real.
The noises from the living room, the chatter of her friends and the giggles of her girlfriend as Dustin tells her a story, fade into distance as she steps closer and closer to the kitchen where Steve had disappeared to, moments after you have left the living room to get another drink. 
You’re standing by the window, face to face and way too close for two people who couldn’t even be near each other, a few months ago. A smile is resting on your face, matching his own. 
Steve leans closer to you, whispering words that Robin can’t make out from this distance and it annoys her to no end because she wants to know what he said to you, what exactly made you giggle in a way she never heard you do. 
This is strange, this is so very strange – it shouldn’t be, and maybe she wouldn’t even think anything of it had you not been fighting all the time not too long ago, because after all, you two could be just friends who are gossiping about something, the hushed whispers and the amused giggles indicate it at least. 
But you aren’t friends, are you? 
You are still just Steve and Blondie, forced to be around each other because of your mutual friends, forced to get along to keep the peace. 
But maybe things are changing, maybe you are actually getting along now and not because of her or Eddie or even the teens, maybe you are just becoming friends, actual friends.
This is the only explanation to what she is seeing. 
Anything else would just be… unbelievable. 
And still, she decides to keep a closer eye on Steve and you. 
Her suspicions and thoughts she deemed as ‘crazy’ become less and less crazy as time passes and she continues to pay attention to you both, how you talk to each other, how you act around each other, how you look at each other, how Steve behaves when he is around you. 
It’s so obvious and it’s so right in front of everyone’s faces and still, she doubts that her suspicions hold any meaning, too insane are the thoughts in her head. 
But then the signs start showing – from the pink scrunchie in his car, to the cherry chapstick on his nightstand and the second toothbrush in his bathroom, from the perfume that always lingers on his clothes to the cologne on yours, from the moments you are both not around to the lies he speaks into the phone when she asks why he didn’t come to movie night at Eddie’s place. 
And as she grows more aware of his weird behavior and yours, she also notices that there is someone else who is acting differently – Eddie. 
She notices the way he looks at you and Steve, the way the latter is getting warning glances and glares, the way you are getting soft ones filled with pity and it confirms it all to her. 
You are Steve’s mystery girl. 
Eddie knows, why can’t she know? 
Does Steve feel embarrassed about you and your shared history of hatred? 
Questions keep piling up in her brain and instead of confronting her best friend about it all, she keeps it all to herself, hoping that she won’t have to confront him at all, hoping for him to tell her about it all when he feels comfortable to, hoping that nothing changed between them, that she is still his best friend, that he will still talk to her. 
But her wishes don’t come true, Steve doesn’t make the first move, he continues on with the secrets and the lies, he doesn’t notice the implies that she makes when she asks him what he is doing on evenings he isn’t with her and the group, or the way she subtly begins to mention you. 
She doesn’t even need the confirmation anymore as days continue to pass, she figures it out on her own, she knows for sure now, her suspicions are no longer… suspicions. And yet, a certain moment, a certain sight that plays right in front of her, still shocks her. 
In Hopper’s backyard is where you all find yourselves on a warm Saturday evening, the chatter is loud and the laughter echoes through the garden. The smell of freshly cut grass lingers in the air, as does the smell of sizzling meat from the grill. 
Eddie brought Wayne with him, the older man chuckling at his nephew as he watches him stuffing his face with burgers, continuously complimenting Hopper’s ‘cooking’ skills to which the latter laughs. 
Robin snorts at Eddie, she can’t tell whether he’s high or just really hungry but the faded look in his eyes gives him away, she blames Argyle for that. 
“You should try his waffles!” El grins at Eddie, “Hop makes the best ones!” 
“You mean the waffles he pops in the toaster?” Jonathan snorts beside her, making his stepdad chuckle. 
“I mean, he puts a lot of stuff on them, it’s really good! Reeses pieces, sprinkles, heavy cream–”
“Ew,” Mike scrunches his nose, shaking his head at his girlfriend, “that’s too much.” 
“Says the boy who puts maple syrup on his scrambled eggs,” Nancy laughs at her brother. 
“Of course he does, Mike has the worst taste,” Dustin snickers before he takes a bite of his steak. “He also loves raisin cookies!” 
“What’s wrong with raisin cookies?” Hopper asks mid chew, furrowing his brows at the teenage boy. 
“Do not insult his raisin cookies,” Joyce points with a fork at Dustin, an amused smile appearing on her face. 
“Oh,” Dustin frowns at the former chief, “you don’t have taste either, damn.” 
While everyone watches the interaction between Dustin and Hopper, amused by the teenage boy and his harmless insults as his conversation with the older man continues. Robin nearly misses the whispers between you and Steve, the smile on your face as you say something to him that she can’t read on your lips. 
You sit next to each other, very closely so. 
It’s the same seats you sat in when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement here, only this time, neither of you seems tense, you’re both relaxed, your features are soft, your smiles are real, your arms are touching and you aren’t avoiding each other the way you once did. 
The pink scrunchie is in your hair, your lips are rosy red, from the cherry chapstick no doubt. Your eyes are glinting with happiness and it seems like a rare sight to Robin – she has seen you smile before, sure, but she had never seen you happy. 
While she paid extremely close attention to her best friend, she didn’t really look closely at you, maybe she should have before. 
She watches the way you push your plate away, leaving a few bites that you can’t seem to finish, you reach for your drink and lean back in your seat, placing your hand on your stomach. 
Robin chews on her veggies, tilting her head as she tries to not make her staring too obvious but it’s difficult to look away from the both of you, especially when Steve does something that makes her eyes widen and her brows furrow in confusion. 
If there is something that Steve always hated, then it was eating leftovers from someone else, he wouldn’t even share a drink or bite into something someone else had bitten into before and yet here he is eating the food you didn’t finish, eating the steak from your plate and you don’t even seem fazed by it, it’s almost as though it’s the most normal thing for you both, like this isn’t weird. 
And she isn’t the only one who is staring in surprise, Eddie is looking at Steve with his big brown eyes. 
Neither of you seem to notice and everyone else is too busy watching Dustin bicker with Hopper to notice her and Eddie’s wide eyes or the very couply behavior from you both. 
One look under the table after accidentally dropping her napkin to the ground gives her the final confirmation when her eyes fall on Steve’s hand on your thigh and yours covering his own, your fingers playing with his. 
Oh. Oh. 
Maybe this should make her feel more surprised than it does, but really, the sight of Steve eating food from your plate nearly knocked her off her chair. 
She is confused, so very confused and lost. 
And more questions than ever before start running through her mind, nearly giving her a whiplash because it’s just too many at once and she doesn’t know how to deal with them, how to keep them to herself, they are starting to boil over and it prompts her to make a decision. 
She’s had enough of his lies and his secrets. 
She never kept anything from him, he never kept anything from her until this, until you. The sight of you suddenly fills her with anger, something she hadn’t felt before, especially not when it came to you. 
You are the reason why her best friend is slipping through her fingers, why isn’t spending time with her the way he did before, why he isn’t talking to her. 
And despite the growing rage you’re firing up inside of her, she can’t look away from you, watching how you whisper into his ear, watching the way you laugh with Eddie and Wayne, the way you help Joyce clean up and chat with Nancy, the way you hug El and Will goodbye and Max too before she hops on the back of Lucas’s bike and leaves with him and Dustin. 
She almost wants to scoff when you get in the backseat of Steve’s car instead of the passenger seat that clearly belongs to you now, you leave your scrunchies here and your lipgloss apparently too as she looks down into the cupholder, rolling her eyes at the tiny bottle. 
The sound of your laughter makes her eyes roll more intensely. Eddie jumps in beside you, neither of you are aware of the scowl on her face. 
Steve notices though, but he doesn’t bring it up, not wanting to make her uncomfortable by asking any questions she might not want to answer in front of you and Eddie. She won’t even look at him, her eyes are glued on her rings as her fingers tap against her jean clad thighs, her jaw is clenched and he can practically feel the tension in her shoulders. 
And it doesn’t go away, not even when he turns her favorite music on, not when he tries to crack a joke, nothing seems to lift her mood these days, and it worries him. 
When he stops the car in your driveway, Eddie is the first to get out, clapping his hand on Steve’s shoulder and mumbling a goodbye to him and Robin. You follow suit, smiling at them both before your sneakers hit the cobblestones and you get out as well, about to shut the door when Robin’s voice stops you. 
“Hey, Blondie.” 
The tone in her voice is a mocking one, she only uses Steve’s nickname to tease you with it, but this sounds like something else. 
You poke your head back into the car, eyeing Steve’s side profile before you train your eyes on his best friend, who is now looking back at you with a look in her eyes that is sending chills down your spine. 
“Hmm?”
“Are you spending the night at Steve’s tonight?” 
Your heart stops beating and your breathing stutters in your throat, your eyes grow wide just like Steve’s do. The chills that her looks just caused, running down your whole body and filling you with shock. 
She raises her eyebrows at you, giving you a mocking smile. 
Eddie stands behind you, frozen just like you are. 
Steve holds the steering wheel tightly, staring at his best friend with a pounding heart – he knew she would figure it out, that it would only be a matter of time after what she had found in his car. 
A sigh falls from his lips and he begins to curse at himself inwardly, feeling guilt rushing through him for lying to her, for putting you into this position, he can see the fear in your eyes and he doesn’t quite know what it means, but it makes him want to protect you from the anger in Robin’s features. 
“Robs–”
“If you are, I’m sorry but I need to talk to my best friend tonight… if we are still considered that,” she snaps at you, catching you off guard once again when she turns around after cursing you with a glare. 
Steve furrows his brows at her, pursing his lips as he shakes his head a little. 
“Sweets,” Eddie mumbles behind you, clasping a gentle hand around your elbow, “come on.” 
You blink, nodding to yourself as you gulp down the nervousness. 
Steve looks back at you before you can leave and close the door, you see the way his eyes soften when they meet your own, the way his lips twitch and he tilts his head at you, mouthing a few simple words at you, ones that are enough to give you a sense of comfort after this. 
‘It’s gonna be okay.’
It’s not just a few words, it’s a promise. 
And for some reason, you find it easy to believe, despite the nervousness in your stomach. 
Before you can say anything to him, before you can mouth something back to him, Eddie pulls you away from the car and shuts the door after Robin tells Steve to drive. 
Your best friend puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, eying your worried expression as you watch the burgundy car leave your driveway, speeding down the road and getting lost in the distance. 
A heavy sigh falls from your lips and you bring your hand up towards your face, biting your thumbnail in anxiousness. You turn around to face Eddie, seeing his face so clear despite the darkening night sky. 
He nods at you, “it’s gonna be alright, Robin is just mad, I was mad too, sweetheart… remember that.”
“Yeah but–”
“No buts,” he shakes his head at you, “I don’t– I don’t know where you two are going with this but, I didn’t make you stop, she won’t either.” 
Eddie doesn’t know why he is even encouraging this, knowing very well how badly this could end for you, but the need to comfort you feels so much stronger than thinking logically. 
“Yeah,” you whisper. 
He is right, you know he is. 
You were anxious about losing him before, thinking that Steve might want to stop seeing you after Eddie found out – but he didn’t want to stop, he might not want to stop now either, maybe things will just go back to normal after this night, you won’t let a moment like this crush the hope that has been spreading inside of you in the past weeks. 
You are the only one for Steve, right now, he told you so. 
And there has to be a reason for it. 
The hope in you, isn’t for nothing… right? 
You won’t let Robin take that away from you. 
Eddie’s brown eyes soften even further, he wraps his arm around you and starts leading you to your house, “now come on, we’ll get that ice cream pint from your freezer and watch some movies until we crash out on your couch.” 
You smile at him, feeling grateful to have him here with you. 
“I gotta thank Buckley for ruining your date night with Harrington, I missed our slumber parties.” 
You chuckle, despite the uneasiness in your stomach. 
“I missed them too, Eds.”
-
The tension in the car is so much stronger, so much bigger than it was before because now he knows why Robin was acting so weird, why she always seemed so annoyed and hurt, and he understands it, he really does, but he had his reasons to keep this all a secret from her, yet it does nothing to mend the guilt that spreads through his body. 
He lied to her and the upcoming conversation at his house already fills him with so much nervousness that it makes him grip the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white. 
Is this the moment where he will lose his best friend? He wonders. 
You didn’t lose Eddie, even though he seemed hurt about your secrets too, you talked it out and everything went back to normal – you didn’t lose Eddie and you didn’t stop seeing him. 
But Robin’s reaction already seems so much worse than Eddie’s, she seems much angrier, much more hurt and the way she looked at you, even made him cower in his seat. 
Was that jealousy on her face before? 
Does she think that you took her spot in his life? 
He parks the car and wastes no second to get out, taking a deep breath of the fresh air he is surrounded by now. He wants to stay here for a moment but Robin has other things in mind. She angrily makes her way up to his front door, marching up the stairs and waiting for him to follow and unlock the door – with a sigh, he complies. 
His hands shake a little as he looks for the house key on his chain, he brushes past her and keeps his gaze down, licking his lips and clearing his throat as he prepares for whatever she is about to hit him with. 
He wanted her to know, he really did, he had been dying to talk to someone about it but he couldn’t risk losing this, losing… you. 
He steps into his home but doesn’t know which way to go, which way to turn to as the gnawing feeling in his chest begins to eat at him.
Steve throws the keys on the counter and turns on the light, flinching a little when she slams the door, he runs his fingers through his hair and turns around to face her. 
He is met by her glare, an unimpressed expression resting on her features as she stands by the door, with her arms crossed over her chest. 
“Do you want something to drink–”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She interrupts him, showing a sliver of hurt when those words fall from her lips. 
Steve opens his mouth to speak, but she doesn’t let him. 
“I thought I was your best friend,” Robin mumbles with a hurt tone in her voice. 
The tension in his shoulders grows as the need to prove to her that she is still what she always was to him turns him desperate. 
“You are! You are my best friend, Robin!” 
Robin snorts and rolls her eyes at him, “mhm sure, doesn’t seem like it anymore, best friends don’t keep secrets from each other, Dingus!” 
How can he tell her that this is exactly what keeps you both together? 
That the secrets are the only thing making you his? 
Robin’s blue eyes are filled with nothing but rage and as she stares at the man she loves like a brother, she can’t help but scoff. 
“I can’t believe Blondie’s pussy is more important than our friendship.” 
Anger flashes in Steve’s eyes, the mocking tone in her voice makes him frown. 
“What the hell is your problem?” Steve asks in disbelief, not knowing this side of her, this snappy and rude behavior is something new to him. 
Her blue eyes widen and she laughs at him, letting her arms fall to her sides, “my problem is that you were both complete assholes to each other, in front of everyone! And suddenly you start dropping friends – your best friend to be with a girl that you hated! Should I count down all the horrible things you have said about her?” She yells, throwing her arms up. “Or better yet let’s talk about all the horrible things she said to you.” 
“Don’t.” Steve warns her, not wanting to be reminded of his past mistakes. He doesn’t even care about the words you once threw at him, none of them came even close to the hurtful things he said to your face and behind your back, to Tommy and Carol, to Nancy and the teens, to Robin – he can’t forgive himself for it.
Robin buries her hands in her hair, looking at him wide eyed as she laughs again, though not in amusement. 
He understands her hurt, he understands her disapproval of the lies and the secrets but he doesn’t understand her anger towards you. He thought she liked you, he thought you both were getting along. 
“How long has this been going on for?” 
Steve closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he places his hands on his hips. 
He doesn’t need to think about it, he knows exactly how many days and weeks have passed since you started seeing each other. 
“A little over two months.” 
Robin nods with widened eyes, a breathy chuckle falling from her lips before she starts shaking her head, “wow.” 
“Eddie found out by himself, just like you did… we weren’t going to–”
“Tell anyone? Why not?” She asks, growing suspicious of the shakiness in his voice and the panicked look on his face. 
“Because, Robin, it's just… sex!” He says in frustration, like those words are meant to convince her but she can tell that he is struggling and it raises different types of questions in her head. “At least that’s what it was supposed to be…”
He had meaningless relationships and flings before, he felt conflicted about girls and sex a few times but she never saw him like this, so panicked and anxious, so defensive about a girl he once couldn’t stand. 
So she lets the questions tumble from her mouth, pushing him into giving her the answers that she wants and she watches his reactions closely, the way his brows pinch together as his patience starts to wear thin, as the desperation and the frustration clings to his features and his cheeks grow red. 
She can tell that he is trying to keep something to himself but that he is beginning to struggle, it’s going to burst out of him soon enough. 
“What’s your problem with her anyways?” Steve snaps at her, shaking his head in confusion. “I thought you liked her!” 
Yeah, Robin did like you but something about you makes her blood boil now. Those Friday nights Steve never missed to spend with her, slowly stopped. Those small little out of nowhere car rides to the stores in town, or little escapades to the city never happened again. She might have become friends with everyone else in the group… but no one understood her like Steve had. 
And now she knows the reason for her loss… had been you. A person who does not deserve Steve, not even as a friend, not after the past you two had.
“Why are you so defensive about her? I mean are we talking about the same person? She’s had called you so many fucking things in the past, and – being her friend? I might have accepted, now just fucking her!? With what purpose!?”
“There’s no purpose when it comes to that, Robin. It’s just sex and you are over fucking exaggerating!” Steve’s face was getting redder, darker, and his chest was working faster as it took in quicker breaths.
“Over exaggerating!? Well, I am sorry for voicing out the fact you and I have not been hanging out like we always have! All for a girl you hated and she hated you back! And let’s not mention that she is in the same fucking friend group Steve!” She yells at him, taking him aback slightly, “What’s going to happen when you break things off!?”
And he can only blink a few times, gulp, look at her and try to process her words. He slowly shakes his head, making Robin’s tilt to the side in confusion. 
“I am not planning on breaking things off, Robs.” And his answer only angers Robin, because she knows he is a few words away from saying what she thought he was feeling. That he likes you. That he got hooked. Stupidly so.
“Oh, so I guess the sex with her is fucking phenomenal then! Didn’t think Blondie had it in her–”
And Steve explodes. 
“I want her, Robin!” He yells as the truth begins to leave the sacred place inside of him and he can finally speak them into existence. “For fucks sake, after Nancy I never thought I would feel anything of the sort again, and she makes it feel right! All of it! I don’t want her to leave, to leave this, to leave me! I don’t know what you want me to fucking tell you! What else do you expect from me!? To tell you that I’m in love with her!?”
His voice echoes through the hallway and then, silence. 
Nothing but utter silence follows. 
Two pairs of shocked eyes staring into each other. 
His heavy breathing stops and his heart does too for a moment. 
Steve knew it, he knew he was falling for you, that he fell for you and despite it, he wasn’t aware just how bad it had gotten him already, that it was more than feelings, more than a crush, it’s love.
Realization begins to dawn on him and he breaks eye contact and looks away from Robin’s stunned face and focuses his eyes on nothing in particular as he looks at the ground. 
“Holy shit, Steve…” Robin mumbles as her angry eyes soften and sadness and pity takes over, only for him. 
She expected everything but this. 
From the moment she figured it out, she knew that there was more than sex, but she didn’t think that there was this. That his feelings run so deep, that love of all emotions is involved.
“I-I’m… in love with her,” Steve murmurs not to her but to himself. 
Robin can’t tell what he is feeling, knowing that he has only figured it out himself. 
But she knows what she is feeling. 
Out of all the nice girls he could have, it just had to be you. 
A girl incapable of love. 
A girl who will only be another on his list to break his heart, to make him suffer and leave him in tears. 
She won’t let that happen, she won’t let him get his heart broken again, especially not by you. 
But how will she do that? 
There’s shock on his face but happiness in his eyes, his lips twitch and curl into a smile as he lets himself fall into emotions he thought he’d never feel again. 
He is hopeless, as he looks back up at her and she sees the gone look in his eyes, she knows he is hopeless and done for. 
“Fuck… I’m in love with her.” 
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars
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astrologylunadream · 2 days
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Do They Have Romantic Feelings for You? 🫧🌸💋 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)
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Hey it's Lunadream!💕 Here is a lovely reading on the person on your mind and if they have romantic feelings towards you!🥰 hope you find your message🎀 It's been a while since I've posted a reading! I've been taking care of my personal life, and working on readings as I can. Thank you all for your patience and love~💗
Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)
Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~💌🫧
Pile 1🩷
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Pile 2🍒
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Pile 3🌸
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Pile 4🍓
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Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡
On to the readings —> 💕
Pile 1🩷
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Sign energy: Flame, Love at first sight, Late, First love, Teeth, 9th house, Earth, Sun, 12th house, Aquarius,💬🦀🤙💡
🫧Your person's energy: Okay so first this person could be in a no contact situation for some of you, no surprise this is someone that most of you have romantic feelings towards!🥰💗 They are very bright and it's like they can light up the entire world around them. Can we talk about this person's smile?🤭 It's just so attractive and beautiful. Twin flame/soulmate energy up in here!!!❤️‍🔥 There is a lot of curiousity about your person, you are fascinated in them and this could be because they are different than you in some way.👀 Your person could be from a different background/culture or have some unique strange quality that makes them stand out to you✨️ This is already so cute omg pile 1 you're so curious about this person~ So there is Sagittarius, Leo, Pisces and Aquarius energy for your person. Earth energy oh also there is some Cancer symbolism with the crab emoji so that may resonate for some of you.😘 For some of my pile 1's they could be born in a late phase of their sun sign, so like instead of being a leo in july they could be a late leo in august kind of thing so just apply that to their sun sign!☀️ Yeah so for A LOT of my pile 1's this is a twin flame or soulmate connection, it feels so fated omg😩🩷 This could be your first love for some of you, or a love at first sight kind of happened with this person. I just feel there is a lot of love for your person, it's really sweet you guys💗 Now some of your person's traits, they have special qualities about them. They're intelligent and have great ideas💭 They are also creative and communicate in a strange yet captivating way. It may be hard to understand them sometimes. Specific message for some in this pile you may have met them online, studying abroad or during travel and fell so hard😂😭 This person is so unique to you aha you see them as something special⭐️
💗Do they have romantic feelings for you: Roots, Winter, Chiron, Build, Head, Fire, Aries, 11th house, Leo, Neptune,🖤🤞🚷😮‍💨 Wow okay there is a surprisingly intense energy I'm getting. This is more of a deep physical attraction they have for you, also a lot of erotic desire. You could be in this persons mind, I mean deep in it😳 I feel like they may have a damaged ego or some sort of self doubt about their feelings for you guys, maybe they want to make wrong assumptions about you in their head for whatever reason? At the bottom of this is a lot of heavy passion for you, but I think they're trying to convince themselves otherwise.😕 Yeah they might be trying to turn themselves against you in their mind, or not letting themselves desire you because it brings out a more dark aggressive side to them.💢❤️‍🔥 Yeah you definitely set them on fire, their mind gets heated with you😭 I'm surprised by the physical tension on this one, I feel like your person is having a huge inner conflict about you. They may want you gone only because they can't handle themselves fantasizing about taking you over every night😭🔞 I won't go into detail but this person is fighting their demons about you LOL pile 1 your person is hooked🪝 Winter may be a significant time for their feelings. Yeah I think this person is loosing it about you, but they're just like telling themselves not to give in to their intense passion you bring out of them.🤯❤️‍🔥 Like they know you unleash a monster out of them and they're just like "god no please no" lol I'm hearing The Office.😂 They are unconsciously fantastizing a lot, some hot scenarios with you. They wanna believe you're bad for them, because you have such a magnetic pull on them my pile 1's!🤭 You are stuck in this person's mind, they're burning with passion yet trying to deny it. They get so fired up about you that it burns them out easily. They may feel you drain their energy, because you're so captivating to them. But they are like a moth to your flame I'm hearing🔥 Dangerous attraction vibes~✨️ Pile 1 you are deeply desired they can't even fight themselves!!😍
💌Messages from your person: This is consuming, Nothing is stopping you, I see us together, Don't tell me, You've been busy, You're the one that I want, Tell me, You're my addiction (Yess so much intense attraction for my pile 1's😭❤️‍🔥) Extra cards: Achievement, Together, Seen, Want, Art, 8th house, Gemini, Leo, Aries, Uranus (They want you, they want you guys to be seen together and not hide your connection you are like a work of art to them😭 hot energy)
Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the pink heart emoji~🩷 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🤗💋💞
Pile 2🍒
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Sign energy: Past life, Nice, Question, Unhealthy, Anonymous, Libra, Eros, Aquarius, Juno, North node,🩱🐦‍🔥😁🕵️‍♀️
🫧Your person's energy: Wow okay so this is someone physically appealing to you guys, some of you find them really hot I'm getting😂 This person has a nice figure, there is a feminine touch to their appearance especially something about their lower body. They have a nice smile, actually it's really hot😳❤️‍🔥 Signs coming through are Libra and Aquarius so mostly air energy, I am getting a venus vibe from your person also venus-uranus aspects are possible.🩷 Oh okay so some of you may be viewing this person's social media often, many of my pile 2's are spending way too much time on the internet📱💔 Please take breaks from too much time online my lovely pile 2's you will feel much better I promise!✨️ Some of you could be frequenting your person's profile or photos online to an extent that may not be healthy, this could be you or them take what resonates. This may be someone you're interacting with inderectly or behind a screen, it's also possible that you aren't revealing your idenity to this person.👤🔍 Now that could be the other way around for some of you in this pile, they could be the one stalking you from online or looking at your photos it may even be both if that resonates!🫢 This person speaks very well and charms others easily with their uniqueness. They make you very curious and you want to know more about them, some of you may view this person as marriage material💍💕 You may want to commit to them in the future, oh and it is very likely that this is someone you knew from a past life! Your person is intelligent and charming, and that alone ignites sudden passion from within you🔥❤️‍🔥 It may feel like the tempature rises when you see them.🌡 Like all they would have to do is sit still and look pretty and just that makes you want to grab them and kiss them!!!😩💋 They can really turn you on tbh😳 And you wonder if they feel that way about you! Their figure is really special and attractive to you 🍑😉😉😉 They probably dress really well, they're so appealing and attractive!💗
💗Do they have romantic feelings: Eternity, Uniqueness, Guardian, Song, High, Uranus, 4th house, Chiron, North node, Taurus,💣🎤⚓️🕹 So they see you as someone special!🥰 This is really looking like yes honestly, I mean you are just so unique and unlike any other to this person.😩💖 You make them feel safe and healed, they feel a very comforting type of love from my pile 2's. They may love to listen to songs you like or share similar interests in music!🎶 There may be a song that will feel special to only you two in the future, could be a song that plays at your wedding😂🙈💓 Whatever the case there will be a song that is special to you and them, maybe they will listen to your favorite song and it will become their favorite.🥺 Aw another thing, your voice is really attractive to them. You are like a guardian to your person, they feel safe and protected by you. You are like the anchor that keeps your person from drifting far into the ocean, I also think they love your playful side🩷 I'm hearing "You're the bomb!" Lol maybe they find you very entertaining and fun.🥰 There is a lot of venus energy in this reading so there is many romantic feelings from your person. You feel like home to them, and it would be hard for this person to ever let you go.😭💔 You give them comfort and a sense of belonging, they see you as a knight in shining armor (regardless of gender) and feel saved by you. It's really sweet you guys this person has such pure love for you. They feel like you guys have a future together, and by future they mean possibly eternity.💗🥺 Haha they really care about you a lot and are so fascinated by you. Just know this person thinks you are so special and unique!⭐️ You are such an individual to your person, they admire the way you stand out and love this about you😭 I'm hearing "let you steer the boat" maybe they feel safe and would entrust you to take control of any situation involving you both. I'm also hearing "high hopes" so they feel very hopeful and confident in your abilities that is so sweet omg they think highly of you😢💕
💌Messages from your person: I have dark thoughts about you, What is love? Forget it, You're my angel, I would reject anyone for you, Is it too late now? Only god knows, I would write you a love song. (So cute🥰 Pile 2 you are their angel!) Extra cards: Conflict, Spring, Cafe, Myth, Words, Fire, Aquarius, Moon, 6th house, 3rd house (There may be a blockage in communication or being able to contact this person for some of you, or it was a hurtful conversation between you for some of my pile 2's but whatever the case your person wishes to communicate with you and be able to understand and connect with you better💗🫂)
Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the cherry emoji~🍒 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🤗💋💞
Pile 3🌸
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Sign energy: Flower, Do or die, More, Note, Mine, Juno, Earth, Leo, South node, 5th house,🕳🙅‍♂️🤙🦀
🫧Your person's energy: Haha so the first thing I noticed is that Flower came out and this pile has flowers on it's imagery I think that's very interesting.☺️ There is Leo energy as well as earth energy for this pile's person! Picking up on 5th house placements from your person, also there is cancer symbolism aswell. Another thing is they could have earth over their 6th house for some of my pile 3's. they have a glowing presence about them🌟🤭 Their gaze just came to mind, maybe their eyes draw you in like a black hole lol🕳🖤 They are very attractive and noticable, people from their past keep coming back for more I'm hearing. To you guys, I'm getting you think of them as YOUR person like only yours.😳 Like they belong to you, because you wanna claim this person.💍😱 I am getting a vibe this is a look don't touch kind of person, like they know people staring at them and they're just like no touching.😎🖐🚫 They don't like people to get too close to them for some of you, but this is because they are actually very delicate🥺💞 That could be from something they've been through or going through. This could be someone you lost contact with for some of you and the connection may have ended but you persist!✊️ Your person is specifically very talented in their hobbies, and are usually open to the type of feedback that helps them grow😇 Okay for a few of you this person doesn't wanna talk to you take whatever resonates for my pile 3's! You may have tried to call them or contact them in some way, you could be someone from their past aswell. This person is very caring and protective over the people they love, also they're very cool😉✨️ Lol they have a nice vibe. This could be someone you had crush on for a while but you thought you were over it or things just blossomed very quickly between you two. Your person is creative and really good at whatever they do😂💗 They take care of their appearance, oh you know what I just realized the liking system on tumblr is notes so you could be noting certain posts revolving this person a lot whether it be actual posts of them or just many readings about them omg pile 3 that's so cute🥰!!!
💗Do they have romantic feelings: Dragon, Butterfly, June, My everything, Despair, Saturn, Fire, Libra, Virgo, Vertex,🍀🛗😌👊 Wow interesting so there is or was a big change in this persons feelings, like a transformation.🤯 June came out and the time I'm doing this reading it's going to be june soon so that is a significant sign of their feelings in the month of june!!!🙊💞 Maybe this person's feelings have changed or developed in some way that they're trying to resist or repress. They could be making a decision about you in june or the next month. Wow okay this is a huge message but A FEW of my pile 3's may end up in a relationship with this person in june, if not then romance will be in the air for the two of you!😩🙏 Your person thinks of you a lot and you are the world to them.🌏💗😭 Wait wait it's the year the dragon which is a sign of this year, guys something is going to happen this june for this person. They could be going through a change or transformation in their inner feelings and thinking🤯 This is a very lucky year and the energy proves it.🤭💞 Your person could be restricting their feelings towards you in some way, perhaps they're an overthinker when it comes to you💬🫣 They could have a lot of ups and downs about you, sometimes they feel hopeful and fateful and other times they feel hopeless and unmotivated.😞💔 But seriously guys, destiny is written all over this persons feelings for you!! Soon could be a time they rise up past their own doubts and insecurities about you, and there is definitely a sense of interest towards you.🩷 They need to fight their worries with confidence! This person can find you very cute, and you sit in the back of their mind a lot☺️🧠 If this person didn't feel anything towards you in the past it's becoming a shift in feelings for them. They could be making a descision about you, that could be opening up to you or accepting new feelings for you. Some of you this person may confess, or reveal their feelings and intentions.💭💕 Pile 3 this is so amazing there is so much hope from this person soon, I feel they will finally be able to rest their mind about you eventually and face whatever is effecting their connection with you.😇 They find you sweet and beautiful, also you could give them butterflies🤭💖
💌Messages from your person: For now, I wish I could stop thinking of you, I'm still the same person you loved, You don't need to take care of me, I think you're a great person, I would kill for you, You're so funny, Don't be sad (AH omg and them overthinking about you is right😫💓) Extra cards: Dominant, Surprise, Kabedon, Grey, Neptune, Scorpio, Uranus, Leo, Pisces, Virgo (Yeah they wanna take over your dreams and you're all up in their fantasies, especially dark ones😭😈)
Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the pink blossom emoji~🌸 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🤗💋💞
Pile 4🍓
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Sign energy: Play, Lavender, Conflict, Liar, Found, Mars, 7th house, Earth, 11th house, 8th house,🚨🐙🚺🍄
🫧Your person's energy: Ohh okay this is someone that feels like you have a romantic drama with, I mean like you don't know if you should stay or go.👀🙊 Some of you are in contact with this person, others maybe not. Possible signs are Aries, Scorpio, Libra, and Aquarius, there is a masculine energy here. Your person is very captivating and attractive, but they have a darker side you may not have been aware of at first.👿😳 For a select few of my pile 4's I'm seeing this is someone who played you, or sabotaged your relationship somehow.💔 You might think they're a liar or they lied to you, maybe they got exposed for something too. Your person is intense and romantic but they may be in a bit of a red flag energy for some (be careful😬) Lavender may be significant, whether it's the color or scent. This person is slightly mischievous and may be susceptible to getting in trouble. You could be obsessed or in love with this person ever since you saw them, but there is a lot of tension around this person.😟🔥 I was picking up on a very masculine energy but your person has a feminine side also, which is a more grounded and attentive side of them. They can surprisingly be very detail-oriented and sweet when they aren't in a harsher energy.🥺💞 Some of my pile 4's had or having conflict with this person, could be through online or fights around friends. This person could have caused you to turn to escapism which could be spiritual practices that you escape through too like this reading.🕯 I think your person is all over the place a little, to be honest with the octopus emoji and female sign I'm going to say ONLY for some in this pile this person may be involved with multiple feminines at the same time and it's catching up with them.✋️⚠️ It is possible that certain people are just obsessed with your person and want to throw themselves onto them, but with Liar, Play, Found, Conflict, Mars, 7th house AND 8th house... I'm sorry it just sounds like a huge message😭 I JUST REALIZED the mushroom can symbolize illusions or deception😳 I'm sorry but some of my lovely pile 4's might be the ones deceived or disillusioned about this person. It feels like a really bad boy/girl energy, magnetic but very dangerous. But they're hot as hell🥵
💗Do they have romantic feelings: Rebellion, Broken, Role, Lose, My love, 11th house, Moon, Lilith, 9th house, Eros,🪤💣🖤😚 WTF😫 They feel guilty for something OML. So this person has a lot of intense emotions about you, their heart is broken or they feel like they broke yours.💔 They feel like they played the bad guy, the villain, and they lost you or are losing you because of this. They are in a really dark place about you, they feel exposed for their true nature.🔦 Like you're seeing a bad side of them. I can't believe Lose and My Love came out right next to eachother wtf... It feels like they might lose the love of their life, which is pile 4. This is so crazy. They feel trapped, perhaps behind a screen or they can't reach you.📵 If this is an ex, this person wants you back BAD. They feel like they messed up their image and destroyed the one thing they were supposed to love and care for. What is this😥😭😖 Maybe they feel like they have no part in your life or they played a bad part in it, and that really hurts them deeply. They may be running away from contact with you, or ghosted you on social media. They might not be talking to their friends either because of their feelings. This person is in love with you but they feel terrible, like everything is ruined.🌪🔥 They also feel like they lost their freedom? This person is a hell of emotions over you, I'm hearing "lost all hope". They feel desperate, they almost wish they could trap you and keep you because they're afraid you're going to wanna get away from them. They wish they could make you theirs, I'm not going to go into detail about it but they're freaking out because they're madly attracted to you on an intimate level and they wish they could tie you up and dominate you, keeping you theirs.😰🔞 They might fantasize about doing those things because they feel like they can't have you. Part of them doesn't want to look bad to you, but at the same time they feel like there's no going back and you've already discovered the worst parts of them.👿 You do turn this person on, and they want to kiss you and make everything right.☹️💋🖤 Whatever it was that put a wedge between you two, they want to heal your emotional wounds and play the saint rather than sinner. I'm hearing some of you may have dropped them or are going to, and they have intense romantic feelings towards you and want to keep holding on to you because they're so scared of losing you.😳🤝
💌Messages from your person: Look at me, I wish we could have met, I can't comprehend, You can't comprehend, You always look so sad, Don't let them bring you down, What do you think of me? Why would you want me? (Pile 4 they don't feel like you want them at all😫 They still care about you a lot.🫂 Your person is very confused about the connection right now, but they just hope you're alright🖤) Extra cards: Devotion, Inactivity, Boy, Self-sabotage, Family, Lilith, Jupiter, Eros, Aquarius, 12th house, (They feel like they weren't or aren't being devoted to you enough and it's destroying them😭 There is a lot of passion and intense emotions from them about my pile 4's)
Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the strawberry emoji~🍓 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🤗💋💞
Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸
Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3
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Note
Hi!!
Can you do a Sam Winchester begging plus size reader to sit on his face. Whatever vibes you want :) Dommy Sam is always a fav but as long as Sam is reassuring and eating reader out, I’m happy :)
Thank you!!
.⋆。Peaches and Cream。⋆.
Sam Winchester x plus size reader
Dean made the mistake of leaving you alone with a very soulless version of your best friend who only wants one thing from you
Warnings: soulless!Sam, smut, friends to lovers?, oral (f receiving), mentions of condoms, praise, body worshipping, overstimulation, dom!Sam, almost getting caught, little bit of self-consciousness WC: 1.8k
Minors DNI
a/n: thank you all for being so patient with me, i promise i only have a couple weeks left of uni and i'm gonna come running back with some new fics!
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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His eyes burned into the back of your skull, as they had been for the past 10 minutes. And yet, you refused to look up from the book in front of you, even though you had not turned a page in that same amount of time.  You weren’t a stranger to Sam’s gaze, in fact you used to love it; the way his big puppy dog eyes trailed up your curves whenever he thought you wouldn’t notice never failed to have heat bloom across your cheeks.
But his staring was far different now.
Sam was different now.
You could hear him shift in his seat before the tell-tale sound of his boots against the cheap vinyl as he got closer. You swallowed around the lump in your throat though it did nothing to sooth the fear simmering inside you. 
“You’re not reading.” His warm breath tickled your neck. You shivered and squeezed your eyes shut. You knew what he wanted, and so badly did you wish to give it to him, like you always had but it was so wrong. His soul was gone, the very thing that made Sam Sam but it was still his body, his voice so tantalisingly close.
“Yes I am.” You bit back a whimper as Sam leaned in closer, his large hands planting themselves on the table in front of you, keeping you pinned to the spot. The tip of his nose brushed gently along your ear.
“No.” Suddenly the book was ripped from your hands and thrown across the motel room (something your Sam would never do). “You’re not.”
His lips closed around your earlobe. “Sam.” You cursed Dean in your mind, that man and his need for diner pie no matter how far out of his way he had to go to get it. “We can’t.” Fire pooled between your plump thighs, quickly soaking through your panties. 
He shifted closer, his strong arms now tightly pressed against you. He released your ear with a soft pop. “Can’t or won’t? Because I think we both know just how badly you want me, sweetheart.” You held your breath as Sam’s hands slowly moved from the table to your wide hips.
“Sam.” You tried again but this time he answered you with a deep growl.
“Say my name like that again and I promise that you won’t be walking straight for a week.” A moan escaped your lips before you could even think of stopping it. You could feel Sam’s plump lips curl into a devious smirk. 
“But-“ His grip tightened and all the doubts in your mind vanished.
“But nothing. Dean won’t be back for hours and you need to unwind and I happen to know the perfect way to do that.” 
As a last ditch attempt before your mind completely went fuzzy, you blurted out- “We don’t have condoms.”
His chuckle rumbled through your bones, sending a chill of excitement up your spine. “I’m not gonna fuck you, not today at least. I just want a little taste of this nice,” His right hand slid down the pudge of your stomach and wedged itself between your thighs, cupping you over the thick denim of your jeans, “juicy,” He nuzzled his face against your neck, “cunt.” 
“Be gentle?” You turned your head, encouraging the larger man to meet your gaze. His eyes shone with his victory.
“You want your Sammy don’t you?” He teased. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll give you exactly what you want.” And then he struck. 
His lips moulded perfectly against yours in a kiss long overdue. It was soft, almost sweet but you could feel the way he was holding back, forcing himself to relent to your wishes, even as he cupped your jaw with his other hand, deepening it. 
You whimpered against his lips and he reluctantly pulled away. You barely had a moment to catch your breath before Sam yanked you from your chair and lifted you into his arms. “Sam!” You tried to protest, but he silenced you with a kiss more determined than before. 
His tongue forced its way into your mouth as he strode to his unused bed. Your arms wound around his neck, Sam growling in approval. His knees bumped against the mattress and he fell forwards, catching himself with his right hand before he could crush you. Your pussy squeezed around nothing at the raw strength of the hunter you’d been pining for. 
You grabbed at the front of his flannel as he tugged on the hem of your jeans. Your teeth clacked together and the sound of ripping fabric filled the room. “Eager girl.” Sam groaned against your lips as you still held onto the now destroyed shirt in your grip. 
Your jeans button popped open. “Please Sam.” His long fingers grazed the wet spot on your panties and your hips bucked up, encouraging his touch to go just a little further down. He chuckled cruelly but yet he obeyed. The calloused tips of his fingers pressed into your throbbing clit, making your jaw drop with a silent moan.
He nipped at the frantic pulse along your throat, unbothered by the deep welts he was leaving behind. Your heart skipped a beat as you laid your palms onto his naked chest. “Sam.” His name was barely even a breath. 
“Good girl.” Your ruined panties were pushed to the side as his middle finger traced up your slit, gathering as much of your wetness as he could. “So wet for me. You’ve been waiting so long haven’t you.” He cooed.
You tried to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge, content in teasing you. “Shhh let me play a little longer and then I’ll give you what you want.” His slender hips rolled against your thigh, letting you feel the monstrous bulge of his cock where it was straining against his own jeans.
You squirmed as he finally pressed his thick fingers to your clit, just barely dousing the fire between your legs. “Please.” Your eyes burned with tears of desperation. You needed him like it was the only thing keeping you alive.
Sam tsked and in response, pulled his fingers away. You nearly cried as your relief was ripped away from you. “Now, while I do love your begging, we’re doing this my way. You need to learn.” 
He leaned back onto his heels, his ripped shirt perfectly framing his toned stomach and chest. You couldn’t look away from him, never could you have even dreamed that your best friend was this good-looking. “Jeans. Off.” 
Your hands flew down to your hips, eager to obey. Sam smirked and pulled off the tattered flannel, his eyes remained on you though, burning with lust. Your hands shook as you finally got your pants off. Your panties quickly followed after.
“What a good little slut, listening so prettily. You just want your Sammy to take care of you don’t you.” You nodded desperately.
“Please, wanna be good.” 
He grabbed your wide hips and rolled onto his back, dragging you up the length of his torso until you were straddling his wide shoulders. “Then be good for me and sit on my face.”
“But-“ He shot you a lot from between your legs and dragged you up further so you had no choice but to plant your knees on the mattress next to his head. You caught yourself on the wall behind the headboard as you tried to rock forwards and pull yourself up. 
“Do this for me, sweetheart. Lemme drown in that pussy.” His teeth sunk into the soft fat of your inner thigh. 
“But Sam, I-I don’t want to hurt you. ‘M not exactly small.” 
“Sit. I won’t repeat myself again.” Your knees wobbled but you remained upright, determined to not harm the man beneath you. “Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
His arms wound around your legs and forced you down onto his mouth. “Perfect.” He grumbled into your cunt.
“Sam!” But before you had the chance to even think of prying yourself from him, Sam’s lips sealed around your clit and it took every ounce of self-restraint you had not to court around his head and keep him right there, suckling at you, forever.
Your moans echoed through the cheap motel room, bouncing off the peeling wallpaper and soaking into the old carpeting. You couldn’t help but grind down onto his face, chasing the pleasure he had already denied you once before. Sam groaned in approval from between your legs. His tongue lapped at you, moving with a precision that had you asking yourself why you hadn't relented sooner.
“Are-are you spelling something?” He just winked at you and ducked his head down once more. Your eyebrows scrunched as you tried to concentrate on the fluid movement of his tongue against you though the blinding pleasure made it difficult.
S-A-M-U-E-L He took a breath. W-I-N-C-H-E-S-T-E-R
He was branding you, and that thought sent you catapulting to the precipice of your end. “Sam, Sam please. ‘M so close, please, please.” His right hand released your thigh and quickly slipped underneath his chin, letting his thick fingers finally breach your needy cunt. The knot in your stomach wound impossibly tighter and then just as he crooked his fingers, hitting the delicate bundle of nerves within you, Sam spelled one more word.
M-I-N-E
“Fuck fuck fuck!” You thrashed on top of him, wave after wave of euphoria washing over you, drowning you in it as Sam’s unrelenting ministrations pushed you right into another orgasm just as the first was dying down.
Your hands flew to his silky hair and tried to pry him off of you but he kept going, seemingly determined to make you pass out from the pleasure. “Too much.” Your whole body shook as your nerves lit up like fireworks.
“Oh god-“ Suddenly, the tell-tale rumble of the Impala had both you and the man you were straddling freeze. The car door squeaked and you both looked at each other. 
Sam grabbed your hips and rolled you onto your back before ripping his half-naked body from yours. You threw the covers over yourself and shut your eyes, praying that your heavy breathing wouldn’t be noticed by the other hunter. 
Just as Dean’s footsteps reached the motel room door, Sam had tugged on a new (non-ripped) flannel from his bag. Your eyes slammed shut as the door creaked open and Dean slipped inside.
There was a beat of silence. “She sleeping?” You breathed out a sigh of relief, you couldn’t imagine what he would’ve thought if he realised what was happening between his soulless little brother and you barely moments before.
“Yeah.” Sam responded in a clipped tone, a now regular occurrence with his brother. Dean hummed and you heard the sound of a plastic bag being placed on the kitchen counter.
“I got some food for us. You want any?” You could’ve melted from the genuine concern in his voice but as Sam answered, your stomach churred with embarrassment.
“I already ate.” He smirked as he wiped away the last remnants of your cum from his lips with his thumb.
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Text
early chaggie early morning where vaggie gets a hug
inspired by @sunsetcougar's headcanon idea of vaggie wrapping herself in blankets despite hell's heat for.... reasons :(
Vaggie: "Ugghhgh...." (slouches into kitchen) (wrapped in blankets)
Charlie: "Vaggie!" (singing) "Good moooorning~!"
Vaggie: "Mornin' sweetie... why is it morning..." (bumps into table) (slumps over it) "Fuck. Ow." (oozes into chair)
Charlie: "Aww." (sad pout) "Didn't get much sleep again, huh."
Vaggie: "Nnngh. Didn't."
Charlie: (cringing) "I wasn't, uh, kicking you was I? With the hooves- "
Vaggie: "I'm too short for you to reach."
Charlie: (grinning) "Which means you're just the right size!!!"
Vaggie: "Means I need my weight in additive simulant substances..."
Vaggie: (tries to stand) (BANG)
Vaggie: (slams into table again) "Fuck."
Charlie: "Vaggie!?"
Vaggie: (rubs missing eye) (muttering) "It's fine, 'm fine.... pinche pendejo.. mi ojo... just need coffee."
Charlie: "!! Don't stagger up! I'll make it!"
Vaggie: (slumping face down) (muffled) "m'love you."
Charlie: "Ha!" (laughing too hard) "Oh you- you'd love anyone who made coffee after a bad night's sleep-"
Vaggie: "No. Anyone else I'd just kill for it."
Charlie: (grinning) "Maim them, maybe."
Vaggie: "You have too much faith in morning me."
Charlie: "I love morning you~"
Charlie: "...."
Charlie: (stares around wildly for topic change) "A- anyway, um-" (spies vaggie's blankets) (actually frowns)
Charlie: "Aren't you hot?"
Vaggie: (groggy) (half awake) "Depends if I'm your type, I guess."
Charlie: "My ty- Shit!" (cup she's holding starts boiling) "No I meant-"
Vaggie: (looking up) "Coffee?"
Charlie: "-not that you AREN'T, because I mean really just LOOK at you, I can't imagine anyone who wouldn't w- but- What? Oh."
Charlie: (hands over coffee) "Careful. It's um. Hot."
Vaggie: "Thanks." (carefully not looking at Charlie) (muttering) "Hot just like everything else in hell is..."
Charlie: "THAT'S what I meant!"
Vaggie: "Guess that does make me hot since I'm here too now."
Charlie: "Yes right exactly, the hotness- hell's hotness- you're still not used to it! Not that the eternal searing flames of literal hell is something anyone should necessarily be expected to get used to, aside from me and the other hellborn- though not all of them like it here either, even if the other rings are more varied and sometimes have things like plants and weather- but for you, stuck here in the pride ring, in the purely physical sense I'm wondering because-"
Vaggie: "Charlie."
Charlie: "-it just seems like maybe there's kinda an easy way for you to at least FEEL less hot in the mornings and night? Again only in the purely physical sense, since you never do stop looking-"
Vaggie: "Sweetie."
Charlie: "-yes?"
Vaggie: (smiling) "Low caffeine, low word capacity. Cliff notes?"
Charlie: "Oh, right!" (laughs)
Vaggie: (watches) (remining eye soft)
Charlie: "Um- what's with the wrapping yourself in all those blankets? Normally you wear less than me and still complain about the heat. Feels like I'm missing something."
Vaggie: "Can't have your brilliant brain starving for knowledge can we."
Charlie: "No that's fine- I just want you to be comfortable!"
Vaggie: "Well you're right about the missing part."
Charlie: "I am?" (sits) (leans in) "Ooooh, what Vaggie lore am I missing?"
Vaggie: (snorting) "Vaggie what?"
Charlie: "Lore, but I- I'm not writing any of it down!!!"
Charlie: "...much."
Vaggie: (lifts cup) "I'm getting royalties in coffee so it's fine. Write whatever you want in your diary."
Charlie: "I wanna write what I somehow missed out on while observing you!"
Charlie: (scoots chair closer) (chin in hands) (Staring)
Charlie: "I've been observing a normal amount, to be clear. Juuuust in case last part was kinda alarming or worried you."
Vaggie: "I'm not. It didn't."
Charlie: "Okay! So...?"
Vaggie: "It's not you."
Vaggie: (looks away) (sips coffee)
Vaggie: "More of a... 'me missing something' thing."
Charlie: ".....er."
Charlie: "...you've, um." (clears throat)
Charlie: "You do have something on under the blankets. R-right?"
Vaggie: "Yep. Just like you've still got those red cheek spots under your blush."
Charlie: (covering blush with hands) (stubbornly NOT looking away) "So if your clothes aren't missing- what is?"
Vaggie: "My wings."
Vaggie: (gulps hot coffee and winces)
Charlie: "..."
Charlie: "...do the blankets feel like them?"
Vaggie: "No." (another gulp and wince) "They were heavy."
Charlie: (drooping down onto table) (head on folded arms) "Wings are heavy...?"
Vaggie: "They're alive. They've got, mass and weight to them."
Charlie: "And warmth?"
Vaggie: "And they can hold you. Like when you fold your arms around yourself."
Charlie: "Like a hug."
Vaggie: (awkward) "Sure. Whatever."
Charlie: "So you miss them, and..." (drooping) "Wrapping yourself in blankets is the closest you get to feeling like you have them again."
Vaggie: "It's not even close at all, really." (hollow laugh) "I'll get over it. Don't worry."
Charlie: "Get over it?"
Vaggie: "Like with the heat, it's just another part of hell. It's fine."
Charlie: "Hmm."
Charlie: (gets up)
Charlie: "Can I try?"
Vaggie: (shoulders hunching) "...try what?"
Charlie: "Being a better blanket, since nothing can really be like your wings were."
Vaggie: "...."
Charlie: "I'm princess of hell, so I get to decide what's hell's like. A, a little anyway."
Charlie: (walks around behind vaggie) "And this might be a bit cooler? I know I run hot along with not noticing the whole hellish heat stuff, but- at least you'd still get airflow. And. I'd be heavier than a blanket! I think?"
Charlie: (lean forward to look at vaggie upside down)
Charlie: "So. Hug? Can I?"
Vaggie: ".... you don't have to ask before hugging me."
Charlie: "You used to jump when I did. Or slip off afterwards to hide in some high shadowy corner of a bookshelf for the rest of the day."
Vaggie: "Don't remind me."
Charlie: "It was cute! But I should've just asked. And this is different."
Vaggie: "It's not." (lets blankets fall) "Knock yourself out."
Charlie: (kneeling behind her) "I'll let go whenever you want."
Vaggie: "Charlie. I'm not a glass vase. Relax."
Charlie: "No, you're not glass- you're you, and you're tense." (hands on vaggie's hunched shoulders) (plays with ends of vaggie's still short hair) "This is a hug. Hugs need waaaaay more carefulness than glass vases do-"
Charlie: "Also! We still need a breakfast that isn't coffee."
Vaggie: "Slander." (drinks) "No we don't."
Charlie: "Yes we do but it can wait. If- wow, you really are tense." (starts rubbing vaggie's shoulders) "How did you sleep like this!?"
Vaggie: (slumping) "I didn't."
Charlie: "Well if you DON'T want breakfast right now then that leaves time for hugs! Or say the word and I'll switch to breaking out the toast and jam, or doughnuts- if Razzle and Dazzle didn't find them- or something."
Vaggie: "I'll probably just doze off again, honestly." (groaning) "Feel free to step over me when I start snoring on the kitchen floor..."
Charlie: "I would never leave you there."
Vaggie: "That's true. Would be trip hazard."
Charlie: "That's not why."
Vaggie: "You could totally trip over me. Stub your hoof or something. I'm not THAT small."
Charlie: "That's not why either."
Vaggie: (sips coffee)
Charlie: (pats her shoulders) "Hug time?"
Vaggie: "Mm." (tenses up again)
Charlie: "Is that a 'mmmrgh yes' or a 'mmrrgh no thanks'?"
Vaggie: "I've told you, you don't have to ask."
Charlie: "Is THAT a yes?"
Vaggie: (sighs) "Yes Charlie. You can hug."
Charlie: "Thanks~"
Charlie: (leans in) (gently with the hug, arms around vaggie) (extra carefully with the squeeze)
Charlie: "...how's this?"
Vaggie: "...."
Vaggie: (sets down coffee) (touches charlie's arms) "Can I-"
Charlie: "I'll can let go! It's okay-!"
Vaggie: "No, just. You're fine. Let me rearrange you a bit?"
Charlie: "Oh sure!!! Yes! Whatever you want!!"
Vaggie: "Wings are more, they were more like..."
Vaggie: (shifts Charlie's arms around and leans back into her more)
Vaggie: "...it was more like.."
Charlie: (tries another soft squeeze) (whispering) "Like this?"
Vaggie: "...."
Vaggie: "Yeah." (blinking hard) "It was."
Charlie: "Okay. And that's... okay..?"
Vaggie: "...it's nice."
Charlie: (smiling) "I'm now officially free for wing simulation hugs whenever you want them."
Vaggie: "You gotta sleep sometime, hon."
Charlie: "We share the same giant bed. We can just cuddle!" (butting the back of vaggie's head) "If we can make hell even a little nicer for you, Vaggie, then we should."
Vaggie: "Why both. It's hell for reason."
Charlie: "Because you'll feel better? And that's important?"
Vaggie: "I'm fine with not feel great all the time."
Charlie: "Why though? Vaggie-"
Vaggie: "Builds character."
Charlie: "...Alright." (headbutts again) "Well I'm already quite a character and I like it better when you're feeling better. It makes ME feel better."
Vaggie: “Now that’s definitely important.”
Charlie: “Heh. Just like you.”
Vaggie: (holds charlie's arms as charlie holds her) (doesn't answer)
The Coffee: (slowly cools off while they hug)
-several minutes of hugging later-
Charlie: "...."
Charlie: "How did the wing hugging thing WORK exactly?? You had moth wings, right? Insect wings? I always thought those were pretty stiff- very pretty and fluttery!- but not very bendable. Are some bug wings actually bendy? Or was it more a weird demon thing, like random horns or-"
Charlie: "-Vaggie?"
Vaggie: (slumped) (dozed off on Charlie's shoulder) (breathing softly against crook of charlie's neck)
Charlie: (smiles) "...pretty good hug, huh?"
Vaggie: (snores a little)
Charlie: "Heheh." (smile slipping)
Charlie: "...sorry."
Charlie: (hugs tighter)
Charlie: ".... if I'd just found you sooner, I..."
Cupboard Door: (creaks open)
Charlie: (looks up) (weak smile) "Oh, hey guys- Good breakfast?"
Razzle & Dazzle: (guilty shake off doughnut crumbs)
Charlie: "It's okay. You know she's not much of a morning food person anyway."
Razzle: "Rrr." (flutters into table to peer at vaggie)
Dazzle: (leans back into cupboard)
Charlie: "Oh she's just tired- I'm helping her get some sleep." (actually smiling now) (shifts hind legs) "Um. My hooves might also start falling asleep soon. Maybe you wanna fetch me a pillow or something, please?"
Razzle: (points from vaggie to the floor behind charlie)
Charlie: "Maybe? I think I could shift her into my lap and lean on the cabinets... She feels pretty out of it. One-hundred percent will need a pillow for that though."
Razzle: (flutters off) (pats charlie and vaggie's heads along the way)
Dazzle: (wiggles out of cupboard) (places half an eaten doughnut on table in front of vaggie)
Dazzle: "Ree." (points at doughnut sternly)
Charlie: (giggles) "I'll TRY to get her to eat it when she wakes up. But no promises~"
Dazzle: (huffs) (follows razzle out)
Charlie: "......"
Charlie: (long sigh) (slumps against vaggie)
Charlie: "I'm helping. I can help you- I-" (hides face in vaggie's hair)
Charlie: "...hell can be a happy place too, I promise. I won't let it hurt you again."
....
-somewhere in heaven-
Lute: (sneezes)
Adam: "Go fuck yourself."
Lute: (wiping face with bloodstained sleeve) "Thank you, sir."
Adam: "And take a dunk in the celestial sea or whatever. Extermination was like, months ago- bitch did you even shower?"
Lute: "I did, sir."
Adam: "Went right back into the sinner splattered outfit?"
Lute: "Yes sir."
Adam: "That's gross as fuck." (grinning) "Hardcore. Give me SKIN, bitch!"
Lute: (smirks) (high fives)
Adam: "Even Vagina never went that hard- even when she was fucking you over in kill counts and shit."
Lute: (not smiling anymore) "She was the only one, sir."
Adam: (not listening) "No style! She was boring as FUCK with that lame spear. Stab kill. Stab kill. One hit, no misses, no flying limbs. No fucking CHASES to get the sinner shits really screaming! Just didn't know how to let loose and have FUN with it!"
Lute: "No, sir. And now we know why."
Adam: "Pretty pathetic for one of my girls." (sighs) "Aw whatever. Women, am I right?"
Lute: "She was a filthy traitor."
Adam: "Yeah, pretty much all of you are." (picks at mask teeth) "Lucifer barely counts as a dude either, like, dudes weren't a THING when creation jerked him out. Wanna know why?"
Lute: "You were the f-"
Adam: "CAUSE IM THE FIRST MAN, BABY!"
Lute: "The original-"
Adam: "THE ORIGINAL DICK Father of all winners EVER! And of all those lame-ass losers down in hell, not that they fucking show any respect-"
Lute: "And she will be the last Exorcist ever to betray you."
Adam: "Eh. We'll see I guess. Bet she's fucking regretting it either way, huh?" (grinning) "Probably SEEING the error of her ways.."
Lute: "Realizing she made one hell of a choice."
Adam: "Wishing she hadn't fucking WINGED IT that one time, HA!"
Lute: "We clipped those thoughts pretty quick."
Adam: (slaps lute on back) "That was fucking great. I've got her agonized "oh" face from the wing ripping part as a screen saver- but don't fucking tell Sera that, the saintly seraph virtue prude of a bitch."
Lute: "Never." (smiles) (fingers her sword) "...And thank you, sir."
Adam: "Sword still got some of her blood on it?"
Lute: "Maybe."
Adam: "Now THAT'S gross. Love it."
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minefield-of-a-ninja · 20 hours
Text
Tumblr media
*original Image from a CW still photo
Summary: Dean shows you what it means to be in a relationship with a self-proclaimed Red-winged Bloodhound, and to be loved.
Characters: Dean Winchester x You
Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY, period sex, shower sex, brief oral, super horny bc hormones and Dean Winchester, ILY exchange, intimacy
Words: 2K
Author’s notes: Sanctioned will be a series of low-stakes explorations of sexual taboos and boundary nudging with one or both of the Winchester brothers and You. It will all be written in 2nd person, further fostering a sense of closeness and leaning into the level of intimacy achieved with each act. It will not necessarily be considered part of the same universe but can absolutely be read that way.
As always, all my love goes to my long-time beta and friend @brrose-apothecary and many thanks to @bigmouthlass for the read-through and green light.
Sanctioned: The Red-Wing Rodeo
Being on your period sucks.
You radiate heat, but you're freezing. You can’t even think about wearing anything other than sweatpants. Most days, you bleed through an ultra tampon and the thickest pads you can buy in less than an hour, and you’re hungry all the time.
For nasty, greasy junk food and for Dean.
Dean’s gorgeous and effortlessly sexy. Even when you aren’t on your period, all he has to do is say your name and you’re putty in his hands. When you are on your period, bloated as a bridge troll and craving melty cheese, the things your brain conjures up for him to do to you threaten to set feminism back faster and farther than an old, white conservative on the Supreme Court.
It’s all you can think about—Dean’s hands on your skin, his lips on your throat, and his cock hammering you senseless.
But you smell bad, right? Your eyes are puffy and your feet look like sausages. No one thinks that’s attractive.
He’s tried to tell you that he likes it. Loves it, is what he’s said. He’s the one who told you there’s a name for guys like him—Bloodhounds. He’s even gone down on women having their period.
You don’t consider yourself a prude, but he can’t be serious, can he?
Right now, you’re in the shower in an attempt to feel less ick and maybe work out some frustration where you can easily clean up afterward. You’ve washed and conditioned your hair, exfoliated, shaved everything, and now you’re standing under just-the-right-temperature water as it blessedly sluices your neck and shoulders to your toes. You’re starting to feel something approaching relaxed when you hear Dean’s voice.
“Care if I join ya?” he asks, peeking around the large shower stall with a grin that no one in their right mind could resist. He’s naked, his hair’s spiking in nine different directions, and his face is smudged with grease from the Impala.
You shake your head and shrug, afraid to firmly commit to any answer since every cell in your body is stretched tight between tenterhooks; you could snap at any second.
“You sure?” He arches a brow and dips his chin to his chest as he eases his way into the shower.
“M’sure,” you mutter, curling in on yourself.
He settles in behind you, tall and strong, skimming his big hands over your hips before gently palming your belly. You rest one hand on his forearm and reach up behind you with the other to slide your fingers through his dampening hair. Dean begins to hum and sway before moving to multitask—dragging one hand up to expertly cup and caress one hot, tender breast, and lazily drawing a random but intricate pattern around your navel and lower.
“I know it’s your time of the month or whatever you call it, and I know it’s gettin’ harder lately,” he murmurs, touching you with reverence and heat, kissing your temple, around the shell of your ear. “I wanna make it better.”
You sigh. “I know… I just-”
When his thumb brushes your nipple, you gasp and bite back a desperate moan.
“Just what, honey? Tell me.”
He shifts behind you and his thick, hard cock grazes the curve of your back. It’s too much. He’s told you so many times how good he could make it for you.
“Please?” He continues to kiss and suck the thin skin of your throat and thumb your nipple.
You bite your lip and twist his hair with your fingers. Maybe you can let go a little. The shower will help with the mess, right?
Dean sucks an earlobe between his lips and brings his other hand up to work your other breast, forcing a pitiful whimper from your chest. You grip his wrists, encouraging his touch and buck back against him.
“Fuck me,” you whisper.
Dean groans and you can practically feel him vibrate with excitement. “I promise I’m gonna make this so good for you,” he whispers back.
You sigh, brace your hands against the tile in front of you, and widen your stance before glancing over your shoulder. His eyes flick to yours as he lathers up his hands. When he takes a step closer to touch you again, you drop your head to hang between your arms and exhale. He works you up, kneading your breasts, pulling and teasing your taut, sensitive nipples.
“You look so beautiful when you trust me like this. I want you to know it and believe it.”
He nuzzles and nips under your jaw as he hooks one hand under your right knee and gathers both your wrists with the other. You gasp when he lifts and shifts you like you weigh nothing, spreading you up and open, pressing you up against the cool tile.
“Makes me crazy knowin’ how bad you want somethin’ but won’t ask for it.”
And then he slowly sinks inside you.
You sob his name and quake between his solid weight and the soothing ceramic. You feel so hot and light, spread wide and fucked tight.
“So good, Dean,” you whimper, and he kisses you everywhere he can, sucking small bruises into your skin.
“You too.” He pushes your knee up higher, opening you wider. “So hot and greedy. Fuck, your pussy’s squeezin’ me so tight.”
“Ung.”
His thrusts are slow, shallow, and precise. Each pass sends ripples of brilliant pleasure from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes—liquid, rolling, boiling.
“Wanted you like this for so long,” he huffs in your ear. “Give you what you need when you feel so empty.”
He’s repeatedly, steadily driving over your g-spot, slip-sliding along the path he’s traveled time and time again—but this time, every single nerve ending inside you is engorged and hypersensitive. You can feel every ridge of his cock, stroking your insides.
“Yes, Dean. I can- can feel you everywhere. Fuck.” You gasp for air and arch your neck as he plants his forehead against the shower wall.
“C’mon,” he whispers, quickening his grinding pace and eliciting a shout from you.
“Fuck… fuck… fuck…” you’re chanting, your skin is singing, and your vision blurs.
Time warps and whirls, Dean tells you you’re so perfect, so beautiful, and then- your body seizes rigid and shocking before blowing up into the most powerful, white-hot orgasm you’ve ever had.
Dean gently nudges you awake with soft, warm touches and the aroma of chicken soup. Your eyelids flutter open and he’s lying on his side above the covers facing you, lightly brushing the wide tips of his fingers across your forehead.
“How ya feelin’?”
“Mmmph.” You wriggle into him, clutching his soft t-shirt in your fists, and nuzzle his chest.
Dean chuckles. “That good, huh?”
You feel brand new, wrapped in crystal-spun gossamer—delicate and feral. Your consciousness scrambles to catch up to your body’s instinct to climb on top of Dean and never let him out of bed ever again.
He runs a hand down and up your back, soothing and warm, and kisses your temple. “Should eat somethin’, babe. Made ya some chicken soup and those cheese crisps you like so much.”
“You’re so good to me,” you mutter as you roll and squirm toward your nightstand. You push yourself to sit up, holding the sheet to your chest, and reach for the steaming mug.
Dean traces your spine, back and forth, up and down, sending chill bumps all over your body. You are pretty hungry, so you take a few healthy sips from the mug and pop a cheese crisp into your mouth before turning back to face Dean.
“Thank you. I do love those crisps. But I like you even better.” You scoot closer to him and slide your hands up under his t-shirt. “You should get naked and get under the covers with me.”
“I should?” He smirks in that way that makes your heart skip and your guts twirl. “One single period sex shower session and you’re hooked. I like it.”
He helps you get his shirt off before shimmying out of his pajama pants and sliding under the covers with you so you’re skin to skin.
“God, you’re already hard.” You immediately push a hand down and wrap your fingers around his thick length, kissing him hungrily. “So smooth, want you in my mouth.”
“Uh-uh,” Dean stops you from diving down, rolling you to your back and kneeing your legs open to slot his hips and grind his cock right there. “I want you in my mouth, smell so fucking good, so ripe and hot.”
You groan. Two hours ago, you’d have been horrified by the mere suggestion, but now you want, want, want.
“Dean, you can’t-”
He answers your groan, rolling his hips and nestling his face against your neck. “I won’t if you don’t want it, but,” he pauses, pushing up to look you in the eye. “You want it, don’t you?”
His eyes sparkle, and your pussy throbs. He’s right; you’re hooked and there’s no going back. You’re so turned on that he likes the way you smell—that he wants to devour you. Dean’s always eager to eat your pussy, but right now he looks ravenous.
Your heart rate kicks up a notch, and you nod.
Dean swears under his breath before kissing you, hot and firm. He kisses you so well, every day. He’s thorough with his kisses and touches. This is no exception.
When he finally, slowly begins his descent, you’re breathless, writhing in the twisted bedding and fisting your hair. He gives every square inch of your body the same treatment as your mouth, all the way to your ankles and the arches of your feet. Everywhere he touches, licks, and kisses is a hot zone. As he makes his way back upward, you think you might come before he even lays a finger on your clit.
“Dean, I’m-” You break into a sob and squeeze your eyes shut.
“No, no- don’t hold back, honey. Make some noise, make a mess, I gotchu. C’mon.”
You open your eyes and he’s watching you closely as he hunkers back down, nodding. You mirror his nod and take a deep breath, reaching for him to sink your fingers into his hair.
He smiles as he continues kissing his way from your knee up the inside of your thigh, then splays his fingers against the backs of your thighs. You watch him gently part your seam with his thumbs and dip in to press a kiss to your swollen clit.
“Fuck,” you breathe, dropping your head back to the mattress and twisting his hair in your fists.
He huffs a quiet laugh, blowing a stream of cool air over your slick, open pussy, and you lose it.
“Aaahhh!”
You’re higher than you’ve ever been on any substance, raw, and on fire. You feel like you might rocket through the roof of the bunker into the stratosphere; then Dean slides up over you and inside you, filling you up and anchoring you. He braces his forearms on either side of your head and you wrap your arms around his back.
“I love you so much,” you whisper, accepting his kiss and reveling in his long, steady strokes inside you.
He rests his forehead against yours and breathes, dragging out and pushing back in.
“Me too,” he whispers back, brushing noses with you. “So much, honey. Thank you for lettin’ me take care of you.”
You giggle and lift your legs to hug him tight. “Thank you.”
“Next time, I’m goin’ down on you ‘til you forget your own name, but,” he pauses to rotate his hips and kiss you again. “I just had to be inside you.”
“Not complaining.”
Dean keeps that connection, pulls the thread, loops it back again, and reminds you why you’re there. He reminds you of why you love him.
125 notes · View notes
cinnasalmon · 3 days
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→ Zevlor NSFW Alphabet
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Various NSFW relationship headcanons, one letter at a time! Very long. Even longer than the SFW one. Sorry not sorry
SFW Alphabet here !
CAUTION: There is some dom/sub and kink talk. Nothing graphic, but JSYK.
→ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
The doting just doesn't stop with this man. No matter how rough the sex was, how feral he was, how much of a different side of him he showed, he will revert back to his usual affectionate self.
He will make for damn sure his partner his taken care of before he even thinks of sleeping—no matter now tired he is. He cannot fully rest until his partner or lover is relaxed. Water, a bath, extra cushions, blankets, massaging oil, etc. at the ready. 
God forbid he does fall asleep before they do, the entire next day is dedicated entirely to them, 100%, even if they state several times they're fine and he's got nothing to worry about. Doesn't matter to him, in his mind he needs to make up for lack of being a good partner.
→ B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His self-esteem has seen better days, so he probably doesn't have a favorite body part of his own. I think if he had to choose, maybe abs or legs: they gotta be toned as hell, even at his age. Good job, Zevlor. You earned it. 👏
Favorite body part of his partner's though? Is “everything” an answer? Body worship extraordinaire over here. Whatever body part his partner doesn't like of their own, he'll love on it extra. They don't even need to verbally state they're self-conscious about it; he takes notes, and he knows. Next time, he'll spend plenty of time leaving slow, loving kisses on it and caressing it with a heated touch.
→ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Oh lordy this man has a lot of cum. Hah, maybe not as much as someone like Halsin, but the longer he goes without cumming the more cum his loads will have, obviously. But even otherwise, I still think he's got a fair bit. 
His taste isn't too distinct; it's pretty run-of-the-mill. But he has quite a bit and it is thicky and sticky, so if his partner is one to swallow, get ready. And if they don't swallow, well get ready, too. He'll be cumming everywhere and if he cums on their face? They better have their eyes shut tight that's all I'm saying lmao
→ D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
I've seen a couple of people mention a possible scent kink and I can't get it out of my mind. This man cannot get enough of his partner's smell; their pheromones drive him uh, fucking bonkers. Of course he enjoys it after a fresh wash, but when they're hot and sweaty? My goodness he's got a chub just from a whiff. And when their scent changes from becoming aroused? Insert boi-oing sound effect here ‘cause that's what's happening in them trousers.
Convince him to give some training, particularly outdoors for best effect, and watch as he becomes more… hands-on as time goes on. Wouldn't be hard to get him to tussle—a little play wrestling if you will—and he'll be tempted to fuck right there in the dirt. 
→ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
For sure knows what he's doing. He's got experience under his belt (hehe), it's just… been a while is all. 
Back in his heyday, Hellriders were the local authority and sought after as partners and lovers, so no shortage there. I'm not fixed on one set of headcanons for Zevlor's young soldier days, so whether he had a hoe phase or was committed to one partner the whole time, I do think he's had experience nonetheless. (However, I have been toying around the idea of a virgin/celibate Zevlor, but that's a whole other can of worms not particularly relevant right now)
Plus, he's a romantic, so even if he doesn't have much experience, his intuition and drive will translate well in the bedroom.
→ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
OH LORD. Anything where he can see their face. He likes seeing just how good he makes someone feel, just from his touch (and/or words 👀). It doesn't matter if he's dom or sub or top or bottom or what-the-fuck-ever—he gets so much pleasure from seeing his partner unravel. He's cum solely from getting his lovers off before, so that's nothing new, either.
Missionary is a given, but he also enjoys lotus. If he's riled up, mating press and the like is also on the menu. If he wants to show off his high strength and his partner fits the bill, he'll stand up, hold them by their ass, and bounce them on that thang. 
→ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
I mean, he is pretty serious for the most part—he aims to please. But sometimes sex is weird! There's funny noises and cramps that happen sometimes. He's used to it, and he'll go with the flow. He just enjoys being intimate, no matter how awkward it can be. He may chuckle here and there, but he mainly feeds off of the energy of his lover. If they get embarrassed, he'll reassure them they shouldn't be ashamed of their own body and the weird noises it makes sometimes. 
And sometimes if a particularly contorting position spontaneously falls apart and they fall on top of each other, he'll make sure they're okay first and foremost, then have a laugh at the happenstance—it was worth a try!
→ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
This is quite influenced by my own bias/preferences as I'm borderline turned off by body hair, so please proceed with caution knowing that lmao
I personally don't see him as a hairy guy like, hardly at all. He keeps his face shaved (and has fairly dark stubble when it starts growing back) but otherwise his body hair is very fine and sparse. Mainly arms, legs, some hairs on his chest, a semblance of a happy trail, and a light bush that doesn't really grow enough to warrant much maintenance. 
Color-wise, very close to his sandy locks, perhaps a shade or two darker.
→ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Oh. My. Lord. He is a king and expert on intimacy; as I've stated numerous times before this man craves connection above all else. He is focused entirely on his partner and their pleasure, created and caused by himself. Sure he likes the little bit of ego boost from seeing his partner through to their climax just from his touch, but what matters most is they're safe and comfortable enough to be in such a headspace with him. 
→ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
So, this really depends. Before Elturel fell, it wasn't too terribly often, maybe a couple of times a week. 
But I think after the exile, he'll be too stressed to take care of himself. Howeverrr… if he pines after and crushes on someone, he'll realize just how pent up he is. He'll still try to be a gentleman and not frantically get himself off to the thought of their naked body rubbing against his, but eventually he'll cave and have an immediate and immense sense of relief… and feel like a total pervert.
Being in an established relationship, he doesn't really feel the need unless he or his partner is away for a few days or more for whatever reason. He misses their companionship, so his hand will have to suffice until they can be together again.
→ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
The most obvious is breeding kink. This man has always wanted a family but never let himself have one due to the expectations and stress of being a Hellrider. But if his partner begs him to breed them, regardless if they can physically bear child or not, he's going to snap.
And like I mentioned before, scent kink. 
→ L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Not into exhibitionism; he likes the intimacy of privacy. He doesn't have to worry about prying eyes or ears. So, anywhere that is secluded, ideally at home or a room at an inn, but if the situation calls for it, “secluded” is the keyword here 😉
→ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Ummmmmm anything his partner does (jk…ish). But for real, body worship, y'all: make him feel wanted, loved, noticed, etc. His self-image can be in the pits sometimes, so love on him plenty, dote on him often; show him he is worthy, he is enough, and let him steer the reins if he wants to take it further. 
If you want to go from 0 to 100, the base of his tail is extremely sensitive. He could be holding back with a steel resolve, but consider that the feral button. A gentle touch will become a pointy grip. A relieving sigh rolls into a hungry snarl. Godspeed.
And honest to god, I think he would probably get turned on if he saw his crush or partner do something heroic or good (without expecting anything in return). Killing some threatening hyenas or goblins, breaking up a fight… shit, even helping an old lady pick up her spilled groceries. Whatever they're doing, he's in pure awe, and will jump on those bones at the opportunity.
→ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
(CAUTION: degradation, pain, humilation, and mindbreak)
As a dom = degradation or pain kink is going to be very dicey. He's devastated just by seeing his partner hurt, but if it’s caused by him? Girl bye. Even times when he gets a little carried away and feral and draws some blood with his scratches or bites can wrack him with guilt, no matter how much his partner reassures him they enjoyed it both in the moment and afterwards. So anything beyond that would probably be a hard no from him, but he'll be willing to hear their reasoning behind it and see if a compromise can be reached.
As a sub = my first thought is humiliation kink like, bordering mindbreak. I think he can handle some embarrassment, but humiliation where it's teetering the edge of mindbreak would be a no-no zone. Obviously from the events of Act 2, he doesn't take well to any threats to his psyche, and I'd wager that would extend to kink as well. But he's got immense mental fortitude—so he can handle some heat, if you're picking up what I'm putting down. 
→ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
I'm a parrot when it comes to this but it's true—he is a man. of. service. And I'm not just talking in terms of a paladin.
He aims to please—especially his partner, like hello!!! Of course he loves receiving, but he wants to give more than he receives. That's his motto, baby. He gets pleasure from pleasing his partner, he could cum just from getting them off (and he has!)
And skill? Oh have no fear, he has experience, but it'll only take one, maybe two times before he knows his lover's sensitive points that sends shivers down their spine. He loves their taste, their arousal, just from his touch. He'll be an expert in his partner's body language in no time, he knows how to read them. They won't need to suggest or tell him to do anything.
→ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Oh oh oh he loves to go slow and sensual by far ! He wants to see every single thrust he makes unto his partner reveal on their face. 
And on the contrary, he loves it to be slow and sensual when he's on the receiving end, too. He wants to feel everything. 
Don't get me wrong, the also loves it rough both ways as well, but to feel the most connection with his lover/partner, slow and sensual is the way to go. Though sometimes he just wants to go hard and fast, feral as fuck, to breed and be bred. 
→ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
As stated before, he likes his lovemaking like one cooks a stew—low and slow. He prefers to take his time, but boy howdy it would be mighty difficult for him to decline a quickie. More than capable of achieving it, especially if he's been teased beforehand. That way, by the time the clothes come off, he's already hard, baby! 
The best quickies are when he and/or his partner have somewhere to be soon, but they neeeeed to get it out now; he looks so good; they can't stop thinking about it; etc. until they're basically blocking the front door. He may huff and puff but secretly, he likes the game 😉
→ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Very open-minded, willing to try just about anything once. His partner's pleasure is his priority, so if they're super into something or want to experiment, he's all for it.
Not much of a risk taker nowadays, unless he knows it'll pay off (or if he thinks it's worth it). Many, many moons ago he would've been riskier, and every so often that side of him will come back out should the stars align. 
→ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
It depends. He's still got lots of endurance in him, but the whole ‘aging’ thing is creeping up on him. He can go a few rounds, but his refractory period is a bit longer now than it was 20+ years ago. 
But, get him riled up enough, and through sheer force of lust he might even be ready again before his partner is. 
He likes to cum at least once before stickin’ it in—giving or receiving—because he will last longer that way. Not that he would cum instantly, but it has happened before (cough the first time he and his partner had sex together cough)
→ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He may have a toy or two for penetrating himself, but largely he just gets himself off with his hand, especially after being exiled from Elturel. I don't think his toys were a priority to take with him. But hey, you never know. 
If his partner has a toy, he's willing to try it out if suggested to him, especially if the relationship is matured and could use some ‘newness’. He's very open-minded, especially if it's something his partner is already into.
→ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He isn't naturally a tease unless he gets riled up. Then at that point, it's payback, i.e. if his partner rubs their ass up against his groin in public, then best believe he'll be taking notes and um…. ‘review’ them later in the bedroom. 
It wouldn't be impossible for him to tease, though, he likes the cat-and-mouse game and likes to switch it up sometimes. His payback for teasing him earlier would probably be when his partner is tending to household chores. Especially something like cooking, where they can't just walk away from a roux they've spent the past 15 minutes continuously stirring.
→ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Not very loud, but he does make more noise the more turned on and (at times) feral he is. If his lover is very vocal and loud, they won't hear him very well. 
Makes a lot of grunts, growls, anything guttural and throaty, really. Including—if the other party can get him to speak it—Infernal. He'll mutter some Infernal curses every so often, but to actually speak it? He has to be in a specific headspace.
→ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Following up from above, I like to headcanon the more Infernal he speaks, the more wild and unhinged he gets, and vice-versa. His “lizard brain” (fiendish brain?) tendencies come out and override his otherwise natural behaviors: goes hard and fast, chasing his own high, clawing, biting, tail thrashing around if it isn't already tightly coiled around a leg (or other body part 👀), etc. 
As a bonus I also have been thinking more of the headcanon that tieflings have succubus/incubus spittle (only when very aroused) and uh… yeah. Talk about a whole new layer of arousal and connection for our Hellrider. Hoo lordy /fans self
→ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He's in fantastic shape. Being a military commander is one thing, but in a cavalry? Where one has to wield a weapon, shield, and/or flag while on horseback? Lord have mercy. He won't be ripped to shreds or jacked as hell, but his muscles are firm and well-toned. 
In addition, lots of scars. Even if much of the city guard stayed within city limits where crime was low and they didn't have to do much of anything, Zevlor always preferred to be out in Elturgard and fighting threats head-on. Because of this, he's got his fair share of past battles decorating his skin. 
→ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
So there's a whole lot of layers to that onion of a headcanon I don't want to get into here, but once he knows he has a partner or lover he can go to for sex, best believe he'll be taking them up on that. Pre- or post-exile, he'll have plenty of stress to let out. Sparring and training can only alleviate so much. 
But once he's in an established relationship, it's much more of a sharing-of-pleasure-and-uniting-as-one kind of thing. It means a lot to him to copulate with his partner. He strives for connection in all ways, and sex is certainly no exception.
→ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
I am so sorry you have to hear it from me but at his age? He's falling asleep immediately. Once he's had his fill (hehe), it's lights out quicker than you can say “That was amazing.” But! The more he's turned on, he'll go for more rounds obviously. Though once he's at his limit? Good night, see you in the morning. 
———
If you made it this far congrats! Also I encourage you to fill out this alphabet too, for Zevlor or whoever!
69 notes · View notes
kingofbodyrolls · 2 days
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Last Night in Magic Shop | pjm
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Summary: You find yourself down at the local club, Magic Shop, because your best friend feels like your lovelife is dry as ice. You did not plan on meeting a handsome stranger, who moves his body like an angel, but speaks like the devil. Feeling like he might match your nasty needs, you take him home, enjoying an unforgettable night filled with pleasure.
Pairing: jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”)
Genre + AUs: strangers to lovers, one night stand, vampire!au, smut (pwp), and a little sprinkle of angst and fluff (it’s very short and minor)
Word Count: 12.5k
Rating: mature / +18
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings: explicit smut, exhibitionism + semi public sex (they are in a car and kinda get caught and they stop), kissing, grinding, thighs (yes it’s a warning), a harness (as fashion, yes, also a warning), choking, dirty talk, power play (it’s very dynamic but they are both trying to be more dominant, lol), dom/sub undertones, pleasing kink, oral (female and male receiving), multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, biting, mentions of blood (it’s brief at the end), rough sex, but also very intimate, breast and nipple play, creampie, unprotected sex, spitting— in general this one is very dirty, flirty and rough! 
Author’s note: hi!!!! This is my gift to all you lovely people that follow me, and also to everyone else too! 💜 I really want to thank you, for following me, for reading my stories, for following my recs and library and helping me to show love to all the other authors on this platform that way 🫶 Thank you, truly. This is my gift to you— for my 1k follower milestone 🥳 It actually happened some time ago, I was still writing my long series at the time, so I didn’t really have time to celebrate it, but I really wanted to, so here I am bearing a gift! It’s another filthy one, and I have so much fun writing these, because this isn’t what I normally write (I’m more the fluffy and smutty, a lot of detail and words type of gal). I appreciate you all so much, and to those few people who really interact with me by commenting, messaging me, and just being there— thank you, you are incredible and I love you so much 🥹 Thank you, I hope you enjoy this one 💜 
Author’s note(2): this is pure utter filth yet again. I didn’t proofread this (I might do it later and find my stupid mistakes), but right now, I’m not in the mood. I hope it isn’t horrible, I’m feeling like that myself, but I really tried to make it extra filthy (more so than what I usually write). I do still hope that you enjoy and like it 🌸
Do you prefer to read on AO3? Well, it's posted there too!
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Despite your usual aversion to clubbing—the cacophony of deafening music, the stifling heat enveloping you, your skimpy outfit clinging to your skin like a second layer—somehow, you find yourself succumbing to the relentless persuasion of your best friend, Hana, who insists on dragging you down to the pulsating heart of the local club scene, Magic Shop. Why you’re willingly diving into this chaotic abyss, well, that’s a fucking mystery even to you.
As Hana navigates the bustling bar to order drinks, you scan the crowded expanse for a spot to settle, but every booth seems occupied in this sea of bodies pulsating to the throb of the music. Amidst the frenzy, your gaze drifts inevitably to the dance floor, where a blonde haired man commands attention with his effortless grace, his movements a symphony of fluidity and raw sensuality. Mesmerized, you can’t tear your eyes away, tracing the contours of his physique, the chiseled jawline, the tantalizing glimpse of collarbones beneath his unbuttoned shirt. The way that he moves his hips, undulating and assaulting the air like he’s making love to it, sends dangerous spikes of arousal through your body. And then, your breath catches as you notice the daring accessory adorning his torso—a leather harness, snugly embracing his waist wrapped around him twice and being collected at his shoulders, with a tantalizing hint of danger, leaving you spellbound and inexplicably captivated.
No. That couldn’t possibly be your saliva glistening on the floor, could it?
“Have you found a place to sit?” Hana’s voice interrupts your trance, but as you remain transfixed, she tracks your gaze to the mesmerizing figure on the dance floor, drawing an eclectic crowd like moths to a flame. With a knowing chuckle, she realizes the source of your fixation.
“Ah... Jimin has caught your eye,” she chuckles, a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips as she wets them with the tip of her tongue. With a playful wink, she acknowledges your attraction before swiftly scanning the room for the elusive empty booth you had overlooked.
She drags you along with your drinks to an unoccupied booth, the crimson leather beckoning like a siren’s call. You both sink into the plush seats, but your attention remains tethered to Jimin, captivated by his every fluid motion.
You’re spellbound, utterly captivated by the mesmerizing display unfolding before you. How does someone possess such mastery over their own body? With each twist and turn, Jimin exudes a level of control that borders on otherworldly, his slender frame clad in skin-tight leather pants that leave little to the imagination. His thighs, robust and powerful, evoke a primal longing within you, God, what you’d do to be crushed by those.
The sound of something snapping jolts you from your trance, and you instinctively tear your gaze away from Jimin, heat flooding your cheeks and ears as you turn towards your best friend. Your heart pounds, caught between embarrassment and exhilaration, as her fingers snap, commanding your attention back to her, a silent reminder of the real world beyond your intoxicating reverie.
“You’ve got it bad for him,” she smirks, teasing and taunting in equal measure as she swirls her straw through her drink, a wicked gleam dancing in her eyes before her lips playfully encircles the straw, a silent challenge hanging in the air.
“No, I don't,” you declare, the lie hanging heavy in the air, though you’re well aware she sees right through you. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, betraying your denial, while your gaze remains ensnared by the mesmerizing figure on the dance floor. With each pulse of the music, your heart threatens to break free from your chest, pounding an erratic rhythm of desire and apprehension.
“You and every other soul in Magic Shop,” she bursts out laughing, a knowing twinkle in her eye as she brings her drink to her lips once more, the ice clinking against the glass in rhythm with the pulsating beat of the music.
Your brows knit together in a mix of frustration and discomfort. She’s keenly aware of how long it’s been since you’ve let loose, both on the dance floor and in the bedroom. She knows the ache of longing that's settled deep within you, a silent companion during those lonely nights. And perhaps that’s why she’s orchestrated this night out, dragging you to this chaotic den of temptation, her intentions as transparent as glass: she wants you to indulge, to find release in the arms of another.
Yet, despite Hana’s persistent nudges towards potential romantic connections, you harbor little optimism for any amorous encounters tonight beyond enjoying the company of your friend. It’s not that you hold rigid standards, per se, but after navigating through numerous relationships and even dalliances with one-night stands, you’ve come to a firm conclusion: you don’t crave love, nor do you feel a pressing need for a man in your life. However, Hana sees it differently; she views your reluctance to dive back into the dating pool as a lamentable missed opportunity for some good dick, hence her relentless efforts to nudge you towards potential romantic escapades.
None of your past relationships have managed to captivate you for long; they’ve all fallen short of taming your restless spirit or fulfilling your insatiable hunger. None have been able to meet you on equal footing, to sate the voracious appetite that burns within you.
But as you watch Jimin, something shifts within you, challenging your steadfast stance on one-night stands. Holy fuck, the man’s dancing is nothing short of mesmerizing, and if you claimed you weren’t already feeling a surge of arousal just from laying eyes on him, well, that would be a blatant lie.
He might just possess the rare ability to match your intensity, your insatiable hunger for connection. He exudes an aura of irresistibility that both entices and intimidates you, knowing full well he could be too much to handle. But you revel in the thrill of the chase too much to resist the temptation of a potentially unforgettable encounter.
You find yourself unable to shake the thought: does the way he moves on the dance floor hint at his prowess between the sheets? Those hips, snapping and thrusting with such abandon, leave little to the imagination, igniting fantasies of what they could do in a more intimate setting. If only it weren’t just the air he was thrusting into…
Fuck.
A shiver of apprehension snakes down your spine as you witness the crowd parting, creating a path directly towards you. Dread coils in the pit of your stomach as you realize the magnetic force drawing him closer is aimed squarely in your direction.
His gaze, as dark as the depths of the club’s chaos, pierces through the tumult, locking onto you with a laser-like intensity. In those obsidian orbs, a potent mixture of desire, confidence, and a hint of something dangerous dances. A quick flick of his tongue over his lips sends a jolt of electricity through the air, so fleeting you almost doubt you saw it, yet you can’t shake the image of something glinting, sharp, nestled between his teeth.
Your pulse races even faster, a frantic rhythm matching the pounding bass of the music, as Hana’s kick under the table barely registers amidst the magnetic pull of Jimin’s gaze. With each step he takes toward you, the air grows thinner, suffused with the heady anticipation of his proximity. Your lungs strain for oxygen, chest heaving with each shallow breath, as he finally stands before you, a commanding presence that leaves you breathless and utterly captivated.
“Hi,” his voice is a seductive melody, dripping with a sweetness that lingers in the air like honey. His complexion, paler than the moonlight, seems to shimmer under the dim lights of the club, casting an ethereal glow that draws you in even closer.
“I haven’t seen you in The Magic Shop before. Care to dance?” His invitation is laced with an enticing charm, emphasized by the subtle swipe of his tongue over his lips, leaving them glistening with a tempting sheen. Those lips, plush and inviting, evoke a sinful allure, almost reminiscent of a Bratz doll, but with a touch of dangerous sophistication. And his eyes, simultaneously gentle yet piercing, hold a captivating depth that beckons you further into his intoxicating world.
For a fleeting moment, you’re rendered speechless, caught off guard by his proposition, until Hana’s insistent nudge against your shin reignites your senses. With a jolt, your mind snaps back into focus, racing to catch up with the whirlwind of emotions and desires swirling within you.
You can’t help but smile, warmth flooding your cheeks as a rosy hue paints your features. “Sure,” you reply, the word escaping in a breathless whisper, your heart pounding in anticipation of what the night may hold.
With a quick glance and an apologetic smile, you abandon both Hana and the untouched drink sitting before you, the promise of the dance floor eclipsing any lingering sense of guilt. She waves you off with a knowing smirk and a playful wink, seamlessly returning her attention to her own drink, her silent encouragement echoing in your mind as you navigate towards Jimin.
With a firm yet gentle grip, Jimin guides you back to the heart of the pulsating dance floor, his touch igniting a wave of electric anticipation. Envious gazes track your every move as he positions you in the center, his fingers finding their place on your hips with a confident precision. With each sway to the rhythm, the world fades away, leaving only the intoxicating connection between you and the music.
You’re enveloped in a trance-like state, surrendering to the rhythm dictated by his touch. While you may not consider yourself a skilled dancer, you grasp onto the simplicity of a few basic moves, but in this moment, you relinquish control, allowing the music to guide your every sway and dip, melding your body to its seductive melody.
Amidst the snickers and the encroaching dancers, Jimin remains unfazed, his attention steadfastly fixed on you and you alone. The world may swirl with whispers and glances, but in his eyes, there’s only the two of you, locked in a mesmerizing dance of desire and lust.
Drawing nearer, Jimin’s presence becomes almost suffocating, his breath hot against your ear as he leans in. His voice, dripping with a seductive allure that sends shivers down your spine, wraps around you like a venomous embrace. “What’s your name?” He murmurs, each word laced with a potent mixture of desire and danger, leaving you utterly captivated.
“Y/N,” you pant, the syllables escaping your lips in a breathless whisper, as if each letter were a confession of the wildfire burning within you. Your heart races like a runaway train, its thunderous beats drowning out the cacophony of the club around you. A flush of heat spreads through your body, igniting a primal fire that blazes from within, leaving you certain that every inch of you must be dripping with arousal, pooling at your feet like molten desire.
“I’m Jimin,” he introduces himself, the words carrying a weight of promise as his fingers tighten around your hips, almost leaving an imprint on your skin. You nod in silent acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between you, as if the intensity of his touch speaks volumes more than mere words ever could.
Suddenly, he spins you around, pulling you flush against him, his dick pressing intimately against your ass as he grinds against you with an electrifying urgency. Resting his head on your shoulder, he envelops you in his intoxicating presence, the rhythm of the music pulsating through both of you. “You know,” he whispers huskily into your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “I can smell you from here. And damn, you smell so damn good.”
Your heart leaps into your throat as he playfully nips at your earlobe, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. With a daring touch, his hand edges dangerously close to your core, his fingers trailing along the hem of your dress, hiking it up just enough to send a shiver of anticipation down your spine.
The pressure of his body against yours, the rhythmic grind of his hips, brings an undeniable awareness of the growing bulge pressing into you with every movement. Each subtle thrust sends a surge of heat coursing through you, igniting an even fiercer desire that has you practically dripping with anticipation.
Releasing your hips with a tantalizing touch, he withdraws slightly, allowing you a moment to dance before him, a silent invitation to showcase your allure. His gaze, smoldering with appreciation, traces the curves of your body as he maneuvers around you, closing the distance once more. As he resumes his sensual grind against you, you're entranced by the fluidity of his movements, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the music and the magnetic pull of his presence.
“Are you some kind of professional dancer?” You manage to question, though the words emerge as a breathless whisper, your lip caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to contain the moan that hovers on the edge of your lips, provoked by the tantalizing roll of his hips against your own.
Awareness of the surrounding stares registers somewhere in the back of your mind, but in this pulsating sea of bodies, everyone’s lost in their own rhythm. The only thing that matters is the intoxicating sensation of Jimin’s body pressed against yours, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being.
He leans in once more, his voice a seductive melody laced with a tantalizing blend of sweetness and danger. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, “I’m a dancer.” Each word drips with an intoxicating allure, drawing you deeper into the irresistible allure of his world.
You gulp audibly, your hands instinctively finding their place on his chest, where his heart beats with a rhythm so languid, it could almost convince you it’s ceased to beat altogether. Yet, beneath the surface, it pulses steadily, a silent testament to the calm amidst the storm of his fervent movements upon the dance floor.
You lock eyes with him, a mischievous smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “So,” you tease, your voice barely a whisper, “are you as flexible in bed as you are on the dance floor?”
He licks his lips once more, a subtle gesture that sends a jolt of anticipation coursing through you. In that fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of something primal, something dangerously alluring flickering in the depths of his eyes. But before you can grasp it fully, it vanishes like a wisp of smoke, leaving you both captivated and curious.
His laughter spills forth, rich and raspy, a symphony that resonates deep within you, setting your senses ablaze. His eyes crinkle at the corners as his smile widens, transforming his face into a captivating portrait of mischief and allure. Leaning in close, his breath dances tantalizingly against your ear, each word a whisper that sends shivers down your spine. “Take me to your place,” he murmurs, his voice a seductive promise, “and you’ll find out.”
Your mind reels as a torrent of thoughts flood your senses.
Fuck. Is he for real?
Is this happening? Is he serious? 
Pausing for a heartbeat, you draw back slightly, your gaze sweeping over him as you search for any hint of deceit or jest. The intensity of the moment demands clarity, and you refuse to be swept away without knowing if his words hold genuine intent or mere flirtatious banter.
“You heard correctly, darling. If you take me home, can I taste you?” His question hangs in the air, his eyes betraying an innocence that sharply contrasts with the sinful allure of his voice, each word dripping with a seductive promise that sets your pulse racing.
You swallow, hard, a surge of desire mingling with a tinge of apprehension as his words ignite a primal response within you. Your body betrays you, slick with anticipation, a physical manifestation of your yearning for the dangerous allure he exudes. Despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you find yourself drawn to the danger like a moth to a flame, craving the exhilarating thrill of the unknown that he represents.
“Yes,” you moan, unable to resist the primal urge coursing through you, as you press your hips into his, igniting a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the air, eliciting a deep, guttural groan from him.
With every passing moment, it feels like the world around you is spinning out of control, but amidst the chaos, one thing remains crystal clear: the overwhelming desire pulsating between you and him. Driven by an insatiable hunger, you seize his hand and lead him back to the booth where you and Hana were previously seated, your heart pounding with the anticipation of what’s to come.
As you approach the booth, the scene unfolds before you—Hana seated on a stranger’s lap, their lips locked in a passionate embrace. With a mixture of amusement and urgency, you gently tap her shoulder, disrupting the fervent kiss as you insert yourself back into the moment.
Hana’s face lights up as she turns to greet you, her smile infectious and her laughter filling the air with vibrant energy. “Leaving already?” She exclaims, her voice buoyant with excitement. “Enjoy yourselves!” With a carefree wave and a raucous cheer, she dives back into her passionate exchange, leaving you to embark on your own adventure.
With a sense of trust and understanding between you and Hana, you leave the club, confident that she can handle herself. However, you both value communication and keeping each other informed of your whereabouts. As you step outside, you swiftly retrieve your phone, shooting her a quick text to let her know that you and Jimin are heading to your place.
His fingers, cool against your skin in contrast to the warmth of the night air, envelop you in a sensation that sends a shiver down your spine. Yet, in this moment, the chill is a welcome contrast to the heat of the anticipation swirling around you.
“I’ve ordered an Uber,” he announces with a smirk, his eyes ablaze with desire, a hunger that mirrors your own. Your response is a throaty moan, an instinctive acknowledgment of the electrifying tension between you.
He draws nearer, his presence overwhelming as he pulls you into the circle of his arms. His lips tease over the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of tingling anticipation in their wake, before tracing a path to your ear. With a husky whisper that sends shivers cascading down your spine, he confesses, “I really can’t wait to taste you.”
You whimper softly, a mixture of desire and frustration escaping with each breath. The intensity of his desire ignites a fierce longing within you, matching your own fervor for him. The anticipation is almost unbearable, every passing second stretching into an eternity as you yearn for the arrival of the Uber to whisk you away to your place where you can finally satiate the burning desire between you.
As the car pulls up, Jimin graciously holds the door open, a silent invitation into the sanctuary of the backseat. You slide in first, feeling the heat of his presence close behind as he joins you, the space between you shrinking until you’re sitting intimately close, every breath shared in the electric anticipation of what's to come.
You relay your address to the Uber driver, the words tumbling from your lips with a sense of urgency that matches the pounding of your heart. With each passing moment, you draw closer to the sanctuary of your home, to the promise of Jimin’s touch enveloping you, surrounding you, until you’re consumed by the fiery desire that burns between you.
Jimin’s lips glisten with a subtle sheen as he licks them, a tantalizing gesture that sets your senses ablaze. His touch, cool against the warmth of your skin, sends a shiver of anticipation racing down your spine as his fingers find purchase on your thigh. With your dress hitched up slightly, you can’t help but tense at the sensation, every nerve alive with the electric current of his touch.
You bite down on your lip, a surge of anticipation coursing through you as his fingers inch closer and closer to your core. Your body responds with an undeniable urgency, your arousal evident in the way your pussy clenches and glistens with desire. Every fiber of your being screams with need, your craving for him reaching a fever pitch. With his fingers poised just shy of their destination, his gaze locks with yours, a silent question hanging in the air.
“Can I?” He murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.
You bite down on your lip with a fervor that borders on desperation, the taste of copper flooding your senses as you draw blood. With a sharp inhale, you part your thighs, offering him unrestricted access to the throbbing ache between them, your drenched cunt aching to be touched, to be claimed by him.
His fingers remain still, a maddening contrast to the raging desire coursing through you, and frustration begins to bubble up in the pit of your stomach. In a desperate attempt to incite movement, you roll your hips, a silent plea for his touch to ignite the fire within you. Instead, his response is unexpected, his grip on your thigh tightening with a roughness that sends a jolt of electricity racing through you.
“Use your words, pretty.”
His gaze is penetrating, holding you in a vice grip of intensity that leaves you breathless and trembling. As you feel yourself drowning in the depth of his eyes, a desperate plea escapes your lips in a whispered whimper, “Please.”
You part your legs wider, a silent invitation for him to delve deeper into the intoxicating depths of your desire. In response, he surges forward, capturing your lips with his own in a searing kiss that ignites a fiery passion between you. His lips, impossibly soft and pillowy, leave you yearning for more even as they reluctantly part from yours. As his hand finally descends to your bare pussy, stroking your exposed clit with deliberate intent, his words hang in the air like a taunt, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “You’re not wearing underwear,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of mischief that leaves you trembling with anticipation.
You chuckle, a bold and bratty streak emerging within you as you revel in the delicious tension between you. “I’m not,” you reply, your voice laced with a playful defiance that only serves to fuel the fire between you.
He returns to kissing you with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze, the heat of his lips melding with yours in a passionate dance of desire. Each kiss is a tantalizing blend of heat and moisture, igniting a primal hunger within you. Meanwhile, his fingers continue their exploration of your core, teasing you with light strokes that send waves of pleasure rippling through your body.
Lost in the throes of ecstasy, a strangled moan escapes your lips, echoing the depth of your pleasure. As your eyes flutter open, you’re met with the stern gaze of the Uber driver reflected in the rearview mirror. Without a word spoken, his disapproving stare speaks volumes, conveying his unspoken demand with chilling clarity, leaving you both startled and exhilarated by the illicit thrill of being caught in the act.
You reluctantly pull away from Jimin’s embrace, your breath ragged and labored, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks as you address both him and the Uber driver. “Sorry,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, a mix of apology and urgency lacing your words. With a silent gesture to Jimin, you convey the unspoken agreement to restrain yourselves until you reach the privacy of your own home, the anticipation of what's to come only adding to the charged atmosphere between you.
Instead, you lean your head against his shoulder, seeking solace in his warmth, your hand finding its place on his thigh, tantalizingly close to the growing bulge in his pants.
The car ride feels like an eternity, every passing moment tinged with the tension of anticipation and the weight of the Uber driver’s disapproving gaze in the rearview mirror. As the vehicle finally comes to a halt in front of your apartment building, you’re met once again with the stern glare of the driver, a silent reminder of the boundaries you’ve overstepped. With a contrite nod, you silently acknowledge his unspoken reprimand, eager to escape the confines of the car and indulge in the privacy of your own space.
Jimin shadows your every move as you lead the way to the elevator, his presence a palpable force at your back. With a silent determination, you press the buttons, the soft chime signaling the arrival of the elevator. Stepping inside, the silence between you hangs heavy, the tension crackling in the air like electricity. As you press the button for the 7th floor, the doors begin to slide shut, sealing you in. Before you can react, Jimin’s hands are on you, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall with a force that steals your breath away.
His lips capture yours in a searing kiss, igniting a blaze of desire that consumes you both. As his tongue seeks entrance, you part your lips willingly, inviting him into a sensual dance of intertwining desires. Together, your tongues swirl and dance in a passionate embrace, each movement igniting a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through every fiber of your being.
A low, guttural moan escapes your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss as waves of heat and need cascade through your body. Every touch, every sensation leaves you burning with desire, your body aching for more of him, yearning to be consumed by the fire of his touch.
His roughness only fuels the fire burning within you, each forceful movement igniting a primal hunger that drives you wild with desire. The sensation of being pressed against the elevator wall sends shivers of excitement coursing through your body, intensifying the urgent need building between you. Unable to resist the intoxicating pull, you grind your core against his, the friction sending sparks flying and eliciting a guttural groan of pleasure from him, further fueling the fiery passion enveloping you both.
With a sudden ding, the elevator doors slide open, signaling your arrival at your floor with a jolt of anticipation.
A thin strand of saliva lingers, a tangible link between you and Jimin as you reluctantly part from his plush lips. The intensity of your kiss leaves you both breathless, panting heavily as if you’ve exerted yourselves far more than you actually have.
With a sense of urgency, you dart out of the elevator, tugging him along in your wake, each step quickened by the feverish anticipation coursing through your veins. As you approach your door, your movements become frantic, fingers fumbling in your purse in search of the keys, while his hands boldly explore the curves of your ass, fingers gripping with a hunger that mirrors your own.
A shiver of raw desire courses through you, electrifying every nerve as the keys slip from your trembling fingers. With a shaky breath, you bend down to retrieve them, the movement pressing your ass tantalizingly against his hardened dick, sending a jolt of anticipation surging through both of you.
A deep, primal growl escapes him, a guttural symphony of desire as you press your body against his, grinding against his throbbing cock with a fervor that leaves you both breathless. Finally seizing the keys, you straighten up, the charged silence between you, signaling the beginning of what promises to be an unforgettable night.
Before slipping the keys into the lock, you cast a teasing glance over your shoulder, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as you drink in the sight of him. His eyes are dark pools of desire, wide and unblinking, reflecting a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. In that moment, you recognize the potent combination of lust and danger lurking within him, a heady concoction that only serves to heighten the intensity of your desire.
As you turn the key in the lock, the door swings open, but before you can even react, Jimin’s strength propels you forward, pressing you firmly against it. With a forceful urgency, he shoves you against the wall inside, your back meeting it with a thud, his movements swift as he swiftly closes and locks the door behind him. Keys tumble from your grasp once more, but in the heat of the moment, their clatter goes unnoticed. His lips find yours again in a searing kiss, a low growl rumbling from deep within him as he hungrily seeks to devour you, his desire palpable and insatiable.
“I want you so bad, please tell me I can have you,” he pants between feverish kisses, his breath hot against your skin as he pleads for permission, his desire echoing in every word. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his passion, you respond with a soft moan, your head nodding in silent affirmation, giving yourself over completely to the irresistible pull of his longing.
In a sudden rush of boldness, you recall his desire for vocal affirmation, and with a newfound confidence, you meet his gaze head-on. “I want you too,” you declare, your voice laced with a breathless urgency. “I want to suck your dick,” you continue, your words dripping with a raw desire that sets your pulse racing.
A deep, primal groan escapes him, reverberating through your shared kiss, as he breaks away just long enough to deliver his fervent response. “No,” he breathes against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “I want to taste you,” he declares, his words a promise of untold pleasures yet to come.
With a commanding presence, he presses his body against yours, pinning you firmly to the wall as his lips hover tantalizingly close to your neck, poised over your throbbing pulse point. In a surge of passion, he dives in, his kisses and licks igniting a fervent blaze of desire that leaves you gasping for air, each grunt and growl a primal symphony of pleasure echoing through the heated embrace.
His hands roam hungrily over your hips, tracing the curves of your body with a possessive urgency that sends shivers down your spine. Meanwhile, your own hands, rendered momentarily powerless by the overwhelming intensity of his touch, hang limply at your sides, unable to resist his commanding hold.
One of his thighs effortlessly slots between yours, pressing intimately against your core and sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. The friction ignites a primal response, coaxing a wanton moan to escape your lips, its echoes reverberating through the otherwise quiet hallway of your apartment.
As your brain snaps back to attention, your hands instinctively find their way to his hips, tracing the lines of his body with a newfound sense of purpose. With a boldness born of desire, you seek out his hardened dick, stroking him through the fabric of his pants with a firm yet teasing touch. His response is immediate and intense, a guttural moan escaping his lips and mingling with the heat of your kiss.
Your touch elicits a symphony of sweet, needy noises from him, each sound fueling the fire of your desire until you notice a subtle shift in his gaze. In that moment, something snaps within him, a primal instinct unleashed as his eyes darken with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze.
With a sudden, electrifying intensity, one of his hands ascends to your neck, his fingers curling possessively around it as he begins to exert pressure, cutting off your air supply. 
The sensation of oxygen deprivation sends a rush of lightheaded euphoria coursing through you, mingling with the overwhelming arousal that pulses relentlessly through your veins. In that moment, every nerve in your body ignites with a primal hunger, the boundary between pleasure and pain blurring into a tantalizing blur of ecstasy.
With an irresistible force, he withdraws slightly, his fingers maintaining their tight grip around your neck, a gesture of rough dominance that sets your senses ablaze with anticipation. Despite the intensity of his touch, there’s a calculated restraint in his actions, a deliberate balance between aggression and control that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. As you meet his gaze, you’re ensnared by the dark depths of his eyes, which shimmer with a potent combination of desire, danger, and an unspoken promise of untold pleasures yet to come. The sensation has your stomach knotting with a heady mix of excitement and apprehension.
“Behave,” he hisses, his words a menacing command that sends a shiver down your spine as you struggle for precious air, denied by his unyielding grip. With a wicked smirk, he releases his hold on your throat, and you stagger, your body nearly buckling beneath the weight of the intensity that courses through you, threatening to send you crumbling to the floor in a dizzying haze of desire and submission.
Gasping for air, your chest heaves with the effort as you cough, the sensation of your lungs burning only fueling your resolve. With determination shining bright in your eyes, you meet his gaze head-on. “No,” you assert, your voice trembling with defiance yet laced with an undeniable sense of strength and conviction.
With a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, you lick them in anticipation before lowering yourself gracefully to the floor, your gaze locked on his with an unspoken challenge. Swift and determined, your fingers deftly find the button of his sleek black leather pants, skillfully undoing them before defying gravity and pulling them down along with his boxers, exposing him fully to your hungry gaze. 
As his cock springs free, a resounding thud fills the room as it hits his stomach, the sound echoing off the walls with a palpable intensity. Thick and girthy, it stands proudly before you. While he may not boast the longest length you’ve encountered, you recognize that true pleasure lies not in size alone, but in the mastery of technique and the depth of connection shared between two bodies.
Anticipation courses through you like a current as you contemplate the possibilities of his prowess, a hunger igniting within you at the thought of experiencing his mastery firsthand. His cock, a work of art in its own right, boasts a rosy head glistening with a single droplet of precum, a tantalizing preview of the delights to come. With a confident grip, you encircle it with your hand, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from his lips as you begin to explore the contours of his dick.
With innocent doe eyes, you gaze up at him, lashes fluttering like the delicate wings of a butterfly, as you teasingly dart out your tongue to caress the glistening head of his cock. Each lick is a deliberate stroke of temptation, your movements reminiscent of savoring an ice cream cone on a scorching summer day, the taste of him a delectable treat to be savored. And all the while, your eyes remain locked with his, a silent challenge passing between you.
“You’re misbehaving,” he pants, his voice laced with a mixture of warning and desire, yet his gaze softens with an unmistakable tenderness that belies any true threat. But the allure of pushing his boundaries further is too intoxicating to resist, so you continue your ministrations with a defiant smirk, relishing in the delicious tension that crackles between you.
“But you like it, don’t you?” You tease, your voice a sultry whisper as you bat your eyes at him once more. Your hand continues its rhythmic stroking, each movement eliciting a fervent pant of pleasure from him, as the lines between restraint and abandon blur in the heat of the moment.
“I can tell,” you purr, a mischievous smirk dancing upon your lips as you lean in to kiss the head of his cock. With tantalizing finesse, your tongue traces along his slit, teasingly exploring every contour and eliciting a shiver of pleasure that courses through him like wildfire.
“Fuck,” he pants, his voice thick with desire as his body quivers under your touch, every sensation echoing with raw intensity. And oh, how you revel in it, the sheer power of your influence over him igniting a fire within you that burns with insatiable passion.
“Spit on my tongue,” you command, your voice a sultry whisper as you eagerly present your tongue before him, a bold invitation that speaks volumes of your desire. The air crackles with anticipation as you wait for his response, every moment pregnant with the promise of ecstasy.
He regards you with a questioning gaze, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re a nasty one, aren’t you?” He muses, his tone laced with a mixture of amusement and admiration.
“Yes. I’m nasty,” you assert, your voice dripping with unabashed confidence as you hold his gaze, unyielding in your demand. “Now spit in my mouth,” with an enticing flicker of your tongue, you beckon him to fulfill your desire, every nerve alive with anticipation for the illicit thrill that awaits.
Immediately complying, he spits on your awaiting tongue, a primal act of submission and passion that ignites a fiery intensity between you. With a seductive smile playing on your lips, you tease him with a playful sway of your hips before taking his dick deep into your mouth in one smooth motion.
You start with a deliberate rhythm, drawing him in with deliberate slowness that belies the fervent desire burning within you. Each inch of him fills your mouth, your throat accommodating his cock as you battle your own limits, a testament to your unwavering dedication to his pleasure. His fingers intertwine with your hair, a gentle yet commanding hold that guides and encourages you to unleash the full force of your prowess.
“Oh fuck,” he rasps, his voice trembling with raw desire as you envelop him with your mouth, every movement sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body.
You mumble around his cock, the vibrations sending a symphony of pleasure through his body, each note echoing with the intensity of your desire.
He begins to fuck into your warm mouth with urgency, his thrusts gaining momentum with each slide, his grunts coming out in ragged breaths, sounding like he’s thoroughly out of breath.
“You’re doing so good, such a good girl,” he pants, his gaze fixated on you, your mouth enveloping him completely. The sight alone drives him wild, his arousal escalating as he feels his dick twitching inside your warm, welcoming mouth.
One of his hands grabs your cheek and pushes you further into him, your nose grazing against his dark brown pubic hair, leaving you gasping for air as you feel yourself choking on his dick.
“That’s what you get for misbehaving,” he grunts, a tug on your hair as he pulls you off his dick.
You gasp desperately for air, tears streaming down your cheeks, mingling with the saliva cascading from your lips.
Amidst your desperate panting, his chuckle pierces the air, laden with a menacing edge. Yet, fueled by your own defiance, you can’t resist the urge to unleash the brat within. With newfound fervor, you envelop him once more, your mouth moving in a wild, frenzied rhythm, eager to reclaim your dominance.
His hands grip your hair once more, tugging gently, an urgent plea in his touch. “I don’t want to come yet,” he murmurs, his voice strained with restraint and desire, a silent request for restraint echoed in his words.
Determined, you persist with fervor, each suction more insistent than the last, as if your very existence hinges on the rhythm of your movements. Sensing his impending release, his body becomes a symphony of tension and release, an exquisite dance to the crescendo of pleasure. Yet you press on, his hands now motionless in your hair, surrendering to the inevitable ecstasy building within him.
You moan softly, the vibration adding to the intensity of the moment, your cheeks hollowing as you draw him in, each breath drawn through your nose a desperate echo of your own need. Glancing up at him, you’re met with eyes ablaze, a visage of pure desire and disarray, his appearance a testament to the pleasure that courses through his veins, leaving him utterly ravished.
You press yourself further onto him, his cock delving deeper until it meets the resistance of your throat. His fingers tighten around your hair, a sensation that ignites a thrilling burn along your scalp, a welcomed discomfort that fuels your desire. With a frustrated hiss, he releases into your waiting mouth, warm liquid cascading down your throat. You fight the urge to gag, focusing on steady breaths through your nose, grounding yourself in the moment as he reaches the peak of ecstasy.
He gasps, his breath ragged, a testament to his spent state as you continue to coax out every last tremor of pleasure. He lets out a whimper, overwhelmed by the intensity, prompting you to release his dick with a satisfying pop, a glistening string of saliva bridging the connection between you once more.
“You little minx,” he pants, playfully slapping your cheek as a smirk dances on his lips, his eyes ablaze with mischief, like a wildfire of desire.
“I tried so hard not to come, but I guess you had other plans,” he chuckles, his gaze fixed on you as you lick your lips teasingly, each movement a silent invitation for more mischief.
“Yeah, the night is still young,” you declare, rising to your feet with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Without hesitation, you extend your tongue once more, and this time, Jimin eagerly spits into your waiting mouth, a wicked smile playing on his lips.
“You’re so nasty,” he smirks, leaning in to kiss you hungrily, as if he’s eager to devour every inch of your being.
When you finally pull apart, you can’t help but chuckle softly. “And you love every bit of it,” you tease, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.
He clearly revels in it, evident as he steps back, shedding his pants and boxers until they form a pool at his feet. Even his shoes aren’t spared, kicked off swiftly as he stands there, completely bare from the waist down.
Despite his softened dick, he remains an arresting sight, captivating and dangerous in his nakedness, every contour and line a testament to his allure.
With effortless strength, he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you through your apartment, a smirk playing on his lips. “Bedroom?” He suggests, his voice laced with anticipation.
You chuckle softly, nodding towards your right, and with a casual tap of his foot, he swings the bedroom door open. A rush of heat floods through you, your arousal evident as you feel the slick warmth between your legs, undoubtedly coating him.
He opts not to flip the switch, allowing the gentle glow from the kitchen to filter into your bedroom, casting a tantalizing veil of shadows. With a playful yet confident gesture, he tosses you onto the bed, eliciting a spontaneous burst of laughter from you, reminiscent of a lovestruck fool lost in the feelings of her crush.
You’re well aware that catching feelings wasn’t part of the plan, that this was meant to be a fleeting encounter. Yet, as the intensity of the moment swells around you, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to every sensation, every touch, every whispered word shared between you. Despite your best efforts to guard your heart, you can’t help but revel in the dizzying whirlwind of emotions swirling within you, silently acknowledging that you’re utterly captivated by every moment spent in his company.
He lingers above you, a tantalizing pause that leaves anticipation crackling in the air. Then, with a deliberate yet primal grace, he sinks to his knees at the foot of the bed, his hands firmly clasping your ankles as he draws you irresistibly closer to the edge.
With a primal hunger, he yanks your scanty dress up to your waist, a guttural growl escaping his lips as his gaze locks onto your shimmering, needy pussy, the raw desire in his eyes igniting a blazing fire within you.
“Fuck. You’re practically a waterfall down there,” he remarks, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips as he surveys your drenched arousal.
You spread your legs invitingly, gazing down your body at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go on, have a taste,” you challenge, your voice dripping with anticipation.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he groans, his hands gripping your thighs and placing them over his shoulders. His mouth descends to your aching core, lips and tongue poised to give you the attention you crave.
His plush tongue meets your clit first, eliciting a frustrated moan from your lips. He sucks with the hunger of a starved man, savoring your taste. Moving down, he uses his fingers to spread your folds, allowing him to dip his tongue inside your throbbing entrance.
You pant, clenching around his probing tongue, every nerve alight with bliss, feeling as though you’ve been transported to heaven.
His tongue licks and laps at your sensitive skin, each stroke sending shivers through your trembling body. The need building inside you is almost unbearable—you crave so much more.
For a moment, his tongue plunges into your cunt, teasing and stimulating your hole. Growing impatient, your hands dart down to grip his blonde locks, fingers clenching tightly as you try to urge him on, desperate for more of his relentless attention.
He seems to get the hint, moving up to suck on your clit, his teeth grazing it just enough to make you release a soft scream.
Your body clenches, fingers gripping his hair tighter as a frustrated grunt escapes your lips.
The room fills with slurping noises, driving your mind into a frenzy of pleasure.
Suddenly, his fingers prod at your entrance, and you clench in anticipation. God, you want it—you want his fingers so bad. Honestly, you crave a lot more than just his fingers.
He pushes in one finger at first, and your breath hitches. Your walls clench around the single digit, and it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into his hand and face, desperate for more.
Fuck, how is he so skilled with both his hands and mouth? His suction on your clit is relentless, alternating between perfect suction and expertly flattening his tongue, sending shivers down your spine as he strokes your bundle of nerves from side to side.
As a second finger joins the first in your tight hole, you gasp at the delicious stretch. It’s been a while since you’ve had sex, and Jimin’s girthy size alone suggests you’ll need ample preparation. Despite already feeling dripping with anticipation, you know the importance of proper preparation to avoid any uncomfortable burns from the stretch.
With a suction-like force around your clit, he sends you reeling, seeing stars with each electrifying sensation. His face withdraws from your pussy, yet his fingers remain firmly embedded within you, a tantalizing promise of what’s to come.
His face gleams with your essence. His eyes, deep as obsidian, flicker with desire, his lips curved into a teasing smirk as he licks them hungrily. “Think you’re ready for a third finger?”
You moan unabashedly as his fingers find that sweet spot within, every touch igniting a cascade of sensations that render you pliant. Biting your lip to stifle the cries of pleasure, you nod eagerly. “Yes,” you pant, your voice a fervent plea, “please, get me ready for your cock.”
A triumphant smirk dances on his lips as he responds with a pleased grunt, effortlessly sliding in a third finger. The stretch is undeniable, prompting you to draw in a deep breath of air to accommodate the delicious fullness. Though there’s no burning sensation, your body pulses with the intensity of your arousal, each sensation amplified by your slickness.
“You like it?” His voice, a sultry whisper, sends shivers down your spine as he inquires, his pace quickening with each determined thrust of his three fingers inside you. Your response is immediate, a chorus of moans escaping your lips in tandem with his relentless motion.
“Yes,” you gasp, feeling the intensity of his touch reverberate through every fiber of your being. Heat pools at your core, beads of sweat glistening along your hairline, as your body surrenders to the overwhelming waves of pleasure washing over you.
“Just wait until I fill you with my cock,” he murmurs, his voice laced with anticipation, his eyes smoldering with desire. “I want to see you fall apart on it. God, you’re so pretty,” he adds, his words a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he returns to your pussy, trailing a teasing lick from his fingers buried inside you up to your throbbing clit, igniting a fire of longing within you.
“Fuck, Jimin. Please,” you pant, your voice thick with need. Every nerve in your body aches for his touch, craving the electrifying sensation of his tongue against your skin once more. You can sense the impending arrival of an orgasm, its tantalizing tendrils teasing at the edges of your consciousness, and you yearn for him to push you over the edge, to obliterate every last shred of restraint until you’re consumed by ecstasy.
“Please what?” He taunts again, his tongue teasingly tracing delicate patterns over your throbbing clit. The sensation sends waves of frustration coursing through you, igniting a fierce longing for more of his touch. You can feel the tension building within you, a potent mix of desire and impatience, as you yearn for his tongue to remain there indefinitely, granting you the blissful release you crave.
“Please make me come already!” You pant in exasperation, your fingers digging into the sheets beside your hips, a desperate plea echoing in the heated air between you.
With a shit-eating smirk, he dives back down, his mouth latching onto your clit with aggressive fervor. His relentless licking sends bolts of electricity through your body, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. Meanwhile, his fingers continue their relentless thrusting inside you, creating a symphony of pleasure that promises to tip you over the brink of ecstasy any moment now.
As his teeth tug at your clit, a surge of electricity shoots through your body, igniting every nerve ending with anticipation. The knot in your stomach tightens with each tantalizing pull, signaling the imminent unraveling of your senses.
“Yes. Fuck. I’m gonna come, Jimin-ah! Fuck, you’re so good,” the words tumble from your lips in a breathless rush, punctuated by the primal rhythm of your panting. Your body thrashes with unrestrained pleasure, every nerve alive with the electric touch of his lips and tongue. In response, Jimin’s hand tightens around your hips, pulling you even further down into his face.
As his tongue presses down on your throbbing clit, his fingers continue their relentless thrusts, driving you wild with their rapid pace. Your muscles tighten involuntarily, signaling the imminent arrival of your climax. It’s right there, teetering on the edge, tantalizingly close as every fiber of your being aches for release.
With your body trembling on the precipice of ecstasy, he withdraws his tongue from your throbbing clit, his face shimmering with your essence. “Do you really think you deserve to come?” His question hangs in the air, a challenge laced with mischief and desire.
Frustration boils within you, your body teetering on the edge of release, craving that sweet release. With a hiss of desperation, you prop yourself up on your arms, determined to meet his gaze. “I’ll be a good girl,” you plead, your voice a whispered promise laden with need. “I’ll behave. Just let me... please, let me come.”
His tongue returns to your throbbing clit with a ferocity that reignites every nerve ending, driving you to the precipice of ecstasy faster than thought itself. Your breath catches in your throat, each ragged moan echoing the crescendo building within you. As your body tenses with anticipation, you feel the inevitable release cresting like a tidal wave, crashing over you in blissful waves. Tremors ripple through your body, held securely in his grasp, as he maintains his relentless assault of pleasure, ensuring your euphoria knows no bounds.
As the waves of ecstasy continue to crash over you, he remains steadfast in his ministrations, guiding you through the tempest of pleasure. Yet, as the intensity peaks, reaching heights almost unbearable, you signal your overwhelming sensation by grasping his hair once more, a silent plea for respite amidst the storm of sensation.
His fingers retreat, and a pang of longing fills the void they leave behind, craving the sensation of being filled with his touch once more. His gaze meets yours, ablaze with desire and urgency, mirroring the yearning that courses through your own veins.
“Was it good?” He teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he gazes down at you, observing the subtle flush painting your cheeks as you struggle to catch your breath.
“Fuck yes,” you pant, your voice husky with desire, feeling thoroughly ravished. Yet, beneath the lingering sensations, anticipation simmers, an eager yearning for him to take you with his cock, to stretch you, to fill you completely with his intoxicating presence.
He comes up to hover over you, his presence intense as he locks eyes with you. “You know what my plan is?” He murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.
Your eyebrow raises in curiosity, your heart beating a little faster as you wait for his next move, uncertain yet intrigued.
“I want to ruin you so deeply that every touch, every kiss, every moment with another will only remind you of me,” he whispers huskily into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as your body responds to his words, your pussy clenching around emptiness at his crude words.
“You’ve already achieved that, Jimin. No other man could ever measure up to the fire you ignite within me,” you confess, your voice laden with desire and admiration, your body still thrumming with the remnants of pleasure.
Your gaze, undoubtedly dazed and intoxicated with lust, fixes on him with an urgency that speaks volumes. “Jimin,” you implore, your fingers grasping at his arms, “I need you inside me. Right now. Please fuck me.”
He rakes his hand through his disheveled hair, a dangerous glint igniting in his eyes as he bites his lip in contemplation. “Fuck,” he breathes, desire smoldering in his gaze. “I want to fuck you. Badly. But I don’t have condoms. Do you or are you okay without that?”
You hold his gaze, your voice steady despite the urgency pulsing through you. “I don’t have any condoms either,” you admit, your eyes searching his for reassurance. “But I’m on birth control and I’m clean. Are you?” Your breath steadies, anticipation threading through your words.
His voice carries a confident assurance, yet there’s a vulnerability in his eyes as he meets yours. “Yeah, I’m clean,” he confirms, his tone firm, but tinged with a hint of vulnerability, as if silently seeking your trust.
“Then fuck me already,” you say, a bashful smile playing on your lips, your eyes locked with his, daring him to make the next move.
Jimin sits up, shedding his harness like shedding inhibitions, unbuttoning his white shirt with a flourish and tossing it carelessly to the floor. Now completely naked, he embodies the essence of a god, his presence both captivating and dangerous. Every line of his form speaks of strength and sin, his lean muscles rippling beneath pale skin that seems to glow in the dim light.
His touch ignites a trail of electricity along your skin as his fingers trace the curve of your sides. With a swift motion, he seizes the fabric of your dress, lifting it over your face, and then, in one fluid movement, he strips it away, revealing your body completely to his hungry gaze.
“No bra?”
With a mischievous chuckle, you shoot him a playful wink, a silent invitation dancing in your eyes.
“You really are a wicked little thing. Were you planning to seduce someone tonight?” His smirk deepens as his gaze lingers on your exposed breasts. His hands, cool against your skin, find their way to your chest, cupping them firmly, coaxing your nipples into stiff peaks within seconds.
He chuckles, his fingers dancing lightly over your skin, teasing and tempting you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as anticipation courses through your veins.
“No, I just revel in the freedom of my body. Restrictions aren’t my thing. Encountering you, though, was a delightful surprise,” you chuckle, feeling his fingertips tracing patterns over your nipples, each touch sending delicious shivers cascading down your spine.
His fingers encircle both of your nipples, pinching them just so, and your body arches involuntarily, a gasp escaping your lips as you pant for breath.
He guides you further up the bed, positioning your entire body for his pleasure. As he settles between your legs, his fingertips dance along your thighs, each touch sending electric waves of anticipation through your body, leaving you trembling in anticipation.
His voice, a low rumble, breaks through the charged air, his eyes seeking confirmation before he delves deeper into the intimacy between you two. “Are you ready?” He inquires, his gaze locking with yours, seeking not just consent, but a shared desire to plunge into the depths of pleasure together.
You respond with an urgent plea, your voice laden with need as you offer yourself fully to him. “Yes. Put your dick in me now,” you moan, your legs parting eagerly, beckoning him to claim you as your desire ignites the air around you.
With an air of command, he positions you, pulling your thighs onto his sides, his posture exuding dominance. As he rises to a sitting position, his dick completely hard again, standing tall and unyielding, eager to claim you once.
“You’re so wet, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he murmurs, his hand finding his cock, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within his chest.
“Fuck me, please,” you rasp, the urgency in your voice palpable. Begging isn’t your usual style, but right now, you can’t help it. You need him inside you, filling every inch of you. 
As he aligns his dick with your eager entrance, a primal urgency fills the air. The anticipation builds with each teasing prod against your folds, a delicious tension mounting between you. With a low grunt, he starts to push into you, a slow and deliberate motion that sets your senses ablaze, every inch of him awakening a craving you never knew existed.
“Fucking hell, you are tight!” He pants, the raw intensity of his voice echoing the primal desire between you. With a slick ease, he slides inside, your wetness enveloping him like a long-awaited embrace, each inch stirring a tempest of pleasure that threatens to consume you both.
“Fuck. You’re so thick! It feels so good,” you moan, your voice a symphony of desire as he fills you completely. With him buried deep within, he pauses, his gaze intense and heated, a testament to the raw hunger pulsating between you, his sweat-slicked skin glistening in the dim light.
The way he stretches you is nothing short of incredible, sending waves of sensation rippling through your body. Your hands grasp onto his arms, seeking an anchor in the whirlwind of pleasure, forging a connection to him as he pushes you to the brink of ecstasy.
Then, he begins to move, drawing out slowly only to thrust back in with an irresistible force. Your gasp of pleasure is swallowed by the room as he establishes a rapid rhythm, plunging into you with a relentless urgency.
The bed jolts against the wall, the sound echoing through the room, and you know your neighbors will hear, but you couldn’t care less. You’re being thoroughly ravished, lost in the primal intensity of it all. The sheer ecstasy of the moment eclipses any concern for discretion.
He presses his weight into you, drawing you closer in an embrace that feels almost possessive. In a sudden rush of intimacy, he leans down to meet your lips, igniting a fiery kiss that seems to consume you both. As his body melds with yours, his every movement synchronized with the rhythmic pulse of his thrusts, you feel an electric connection unlike anything you've experienced before.
With tantalizing slowness, he trails kisses along your cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that sends shivers down your spine. His lips wander to your jawline, peppering it with delicate kisses before descending to the curve of your throat. There, he lingers, his mouth exploring every inch, igniting a primal desire that courses through your veins. Gradually, he moves downward, his lips now caressing your breasts with an urgency that matches the pounding of your heart.
His tongue dances sensually around your hardened nipple, sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. As his skilled hand teases and strokes the other, you arch into his touch, a symphony of sensations unraveling within you. With each gentle suck, you find yourself uttering his name in a breathless plea, lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy.
The sensation is intoxicating, a tantalizing mix of pleasure and desire that threatens to consume every inch of your being.
His closeness envelops you, his intoxicating scent mingling with yours, creating an intoxicating blend of desire. With each meeting of your hips, his warmth and the firmness of his cock hitting your sweet spot send ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, eliciting yet another primal moan from your lips.
“Jimin!” You moan, your hands instinctively flying up to his hair, fingers entwining in the soft strands as he devours your nipple, each flick of his tongue sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, igniting a dazzling array of stars behind your closed eyelids.
He hums and chuckles around your breasts, the vibrations sending delightful shivers down your spine, his enjoyment evident in the way he savors every gasp and whimper that escapes your lips.
Then, he shifts his mouth over to the other nipple, the suction intense and demanding, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through your body. Simultaneously, his hand finds the other nipple, tugging at it with a tantalizing mix of firmness and gentleness.
His thrusts are relentless, driving deep into you with an intensity that leaves you reeling, each plunge sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. It’s so overwhelming, you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion.
With a soft pop, Jimin releases your nipple, his lips trailing a path of fire as he moves back up to your neck, planting gentle kisses that send shivers down your spine. 
You pull him tighter into your embrace, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you confess, “Shit. I’m so close.” The urgency in your voice mirrors the pounding of your heart, each beat echoing the relentless rhythm of your desire.
His voice, thick with desire, resonates in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he urges, “Come on my cock. I wanna feel you more.”
The raw, primal tone of his words sends a jolt of electricity through you, stirring an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. Every filthy utterance from his lips molds your insides like soft clay, leaving you trembling with an insatiable hunger for more.
His touch ignites a wildfire of sensation, each pinch and twist of your hardened peaks sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body again. You surrender to the delicious torment, your back arching instinctively as uninhibited moans escape your lips, a symphony of desire echoing through the room.
“Cream my dick, I know you can do it,” his words, a potent blend of desire and command, fuel your fervor even more. With each authoritative utterance, your need intensifies, the primal rhythm of his thrusts, his cock hitting heavenly places inside. His voice, a dark symphony of dominance, stirs something primal within you, urging you to surrender completely to the intoxicating pleasure of the moment.
With a tantalizing flick of his fingers as he pinches your nipple again, igniting a rush of sensation through your body, and a thrust that delves deeper than before, your senses blur, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of pleasure. As his dick plunges into you, reaching depths that send shockwaves of ecstasy through your core, you’re transported to the brink of euphoria. On the tender spot of your neck, he sucks a hickey there. With a primal cry that echoes through the room, you surrender to the waves of ecstasy crashing over you, releasing your essence onto his throbbing cock.
When your walls tighten around him, a low growl of pleasure escapes his lips, punctuating the intensity of the moment. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he gasps, his voice laced with ecstasy. As the pressure builds within him, he can feel the impending release drawing near. “I’m gonna come soon too,” he confesses, the urgency in his tone mirroring the electric tension between you.
You pant, your chest heaving as you slowly descend from the peak of your ecstasy. Every breath feels like a blessing, leaving you in a state of serene satisfaction. Jimin’s touch has shifted, his fingers tracing gentle paths along your sides, while his hips move against yours with a newfound tenderness, each roll diving into you in a more sensual manner.
His thrusts delve even deeper, each movement driving him to the core of your being, sending shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through your body. The rhythmic collision of his hips against yours, accompanied by the tantalizing impact of his balls against your pussy, ignites a fire within you, consuming you with an insatiable hunger for more.
He hisses, a primal sound escaping his lips, as you feel the telltale twitch of his cock deep inside you, signaling his imminent release. His breath quickens, each exhale a symphony of urgency, while his once graceful movements give way to a primal frenzy. With a feverish intensity, he plunges into you, each thrust a fervent pursuit of his climax.
“Fuck, Jimin,” you pant, a symphony of pleasure and need in your voice, struggling to maintain your composure as he pounds into you with unrelenting force, each thrust igniting a wildfire of sensation within you. Despite the intensity, or perhaps because of it, you find yourself surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, relishing every moment of his powerful onslaught.
“Shit. I’m losing control. I—, I can’t,” he begins to mumble, his voice strained with an unexpected vulnerability, and you observe a fleeting, pained expression flicker across his face. 
You reach out for him, your hands cradling his face with a tender urgency. “Don’t be afraid,” you murmur, your voice a soothing melody amidst the storm of sensations. “Just let go. Come inside me and fill me up,” you whisper, your words a gentle invitation laced with a primal hunger that echoes the rhythm of your entwined bodies.
His gaze darkens, a tempest swirling in those depths, as if wrestling with unseen forces. With a guttural grunt, he appears on the verge of surrender, yet something holds him back, an inner conflict etched across his features like a turbulent battle playing out before your eyes.
With a few final, desperate thrusts, he succumbs, his release flooding into your welcoming depths, a primal grunt escaping his lips as he fills you with his heated essence, a potent mixture of ecstasy and raw desire intertwining in the heat of the moment.
Ecstasy floods your senses as you revel in the sensation of being completely filled, every nerve ending electrified with pleasure. Your toes curl involuntarily, a physical manifestation of the intense ecstasy coursing through your veins.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” his voice, filled with a mix of frustration and ecstasy, pants out an apology, his breaths ragged and heavy. It’s a symphony of emotions, the frustration of losing control mingling with the sheer bliss of the moment.
Confused by his apology, you chuckle softly, your hands finding solace in tracing patterns on his back, a silent reassurance amidst the continued rhythm of his movements within you. 
His lips tenderly graze your neck, igniting a playful giggle within you. As his affection turns fervent, you relish in the sensation of him marking you, a primal instinct you love. Yet, the playful nip lingers longer, teeth sinking deeper than expected, sending a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. Your moans escalate, desire fueling your body’s response. But as the dizziness sets in and the need for air becomes desperate, a chilling realization dawns upon you—something is wrong.
Your eyelids flutter shut, a shiver racing down your spine as an icy chill envelops you, sapping away your energy. In the eerie silence that follows, darkness descends, swallowing you whole.
Someone shakes you gently, and you recognize Jimin’s touch. A warm, sticky sensation trails down your neck. Blood? The throb in your neck intensifies, a soreness radiating from the spot. Did he bite you so hard that you passed out?
“Y/N, oh my god, I’m so sorry!” His voice trembles with distress and worry as he gazes down at you, his eyes wide with panic.
“Why?” You ask, your voice slurred and heavy with exhaustion. Every word feels like an effort, and you’re overwhelmed by a bone-deep fatigue.
“I’m— I couldn’t stop,” he sobs, his voice cracking with guilt. You’re utterly baffled, trying to piece together what just happened.
“I should have told you sooner,” he mumbles, tears glistening in his eyes and his lips trembling. He looks like a completely different person from the confident man you met in Magic Shop.
“What’s wrong?” you groan in pain, attempting to move your body, but it refuses to cooperate, leaving you feeling heavy and unresponsive.
“I’m a vampire…” he confesses, his eyes lingering on your naked body, the sight of blood trickling from your neck and staining the white sheets.
“What?” Your eyes snap open, awareness flooding back as you see his tear-streaked face. Your heart aches at the sight, and you instinctively reach out, gently brushing away one of his tears.
“It’s okay. I had a feeling,” you murmur, doing your best to reassure him. When his tear-filled eyes meet yours again, you give him a soft, comforting smile.
“I think I drank too much from you. I’m so sorry. I should have asked,” he stammers, his voice heavy with shame. His eyes drop to the floor, reflecting his internal struggle. You can tell he takes immense pride in his self-control, and losing it tonight is tearing him apart.
“Jimin, it’s okay. I’m fine,” you reassure him, masking your own weakness as you attempt to sit up, your arms trembling slightly beneath you.
“It’s not fine. You passed out,” he grumbles, his expression a mix of concern and frustration, his lips forming a subtle pout.
"Oh. I did?" you ask, a flicker of confusion crossing your face as you piece together the fragments of your memory.
You take your hand up to your neck, fingers trembling slightly as they brush over the tender skin. Examining your palm, you find it smeared with a trace of blood, a stark reminder of the unexpected turn the night has taken. It’s not much though, and you guess the bleeding has almost stopped.
You reach out for him once more, closing the distance between you with a sudden, passionate kiss. The intensity of your embrace catches him off guard, his eyes widening in surprise, his lips yielding to the unexpected fervor of your touch.
When you draw back, your gaze locks onto his, unwavering and filled with a mix of emotions. “It’s still the best and most unforgettable one-night stand ever,” you declare, your words carrying a weight of sincerity and a hint of lingering desire.
He offers you a small smile that swiftly morphs into a mischievous smirk, as if he’s silently challenging you to another round.
“You know, I’m all for making this a regular thing, if you’re up for it. I mean, I don’t mind a little bite here and there. Maybe not to the point of blacking out, but everything before that? Damn, it was fucking hot,” you suggest with a playful wink, your sultry gaze locked with his, a subtle invitation lingering in the air as you moisten your lips.
An exasperated groan escapes him, his fangs emerging, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. You extend your hand, tracing his full lips before daringly brushing your fingertips over his sharp fangs, a mixture of curiosity and arousal coursing through you.
Your gaze drifts downwards, finding his glistening dick coated in a mixture of your essence and his, standing proudly. With a seductive nibble on your lower lip, you reach out, your hand finding his throbbing cock, stroking it with deliberate intent, eliciting a low, guttural moan from him as pleasure courses through his body.
Teasingly, you inquire, “Ready to go for another round already? Got some superhuman stamina hidden in there?” Your jest is accompanied by an increase in pace, your hand working with newfound fervor, eliciting gasps of pleasure from him as his body responds eagerly to your touch.
In between gasps and needy pants, he admits, “Something like that.” 
His voice, dripping with desire, sends shivers down your spine. “I’m ready for more. And you... do you really want this to be a regular thing?” His words punctuate each stroke, his pleasure palpable as he speaks. 
“I’ve never found anyone who could keep up with me and my needs like this,” he confesses, his eyes closing intermittently in pure ecstasy.
“Yes, Jimin, me too,” you breathe, your voice husky with desire. “I feel like I’ve finally met my equal. You satisfy me in ways no one ever has. Please.” Your words, a soft plea, dance across his ear, sending shivers down his spine. As you feel him quivering beneath your touch, you know this connection is something truly special.
“Let me ride you,” you suggest with a sultry smile, but you’re not one to wait for permission. With a swift movement, you push him down onto the bed, eliciting a hiss of surprise followed by a deep, rumbling laugh from him. It’s a playful exchange, full of anticipation and eagerness for what’s to come.
“Fuck, I think I might be in love,” he groans, his words punctuated by a sharp intake of breath as you straddle him, aligning yourself with his throbbing cock. With a slow, deliberate movement, you sink down onto him, relishing in the now familiar, exquisite stretch that never fails to send shivers of pleasure down your spine, something you’ll never tire off.
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soscarlett1twas · 2 days
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Midnight Church Bells
↳ Andrew and his brother sneak out. ↳ 2k words / also available on ao3! ↳ This fic is literally a year old lmao?? I was sorting through docs and found this finished draft, so I polished it a bit and here we are. Please forgive past me if the prose is... how we say 'shit'.
The holidays always snuck up on Andrew the same - sudden and unwelcome, but inevitable. This year, he’d been too invested in his studies, and, surprisingly, his own love life to notice much of withering leaves or decorations, but when he turned on the radio and heard those familiar jingles, he groaned in recognition. 
Really, it was none of those things (despite how much he did tire of those songs) that bittered Christmas for him. It was the fact that once the break started, his family would come calling. And despite all protests, his parents would never let him stay at college during the advent. 
“It’s time for the Lord.” His mother’s voice lifted through the phone he propped up on his dashboard. “And family,” she added after a moment. He resisted the urge to slam his head against the steering wheel, instead opting for biting his tongue. The one time his parents didn’t want him studying. 
Her saying that added to the sting of the season. And family. It seemed that this was the only time of year where that was on her mind. 
Which all led him to the same spot he was every December 24th: Sitting on his childhood bed, with whatever book he was currently reading in his hands, and classical music playing from his phone. 
Reclining into his pillow, Andrew lifted his glasses off and put them on the bedside table, a thumb folding the wings as the other worked as a bookmark. 
Yet he didn’t close his eyes. For one of those brief moments in life, he wasn’t thinking, or sleeping, or doing really anything at all. He was just there, in a limbo between sleep and consciousness, hoping that if he purposely derived himself the next day wouldn’t come as quickly.
And he stayed like that for 5 minutes. Or maybe it was 10, or maybe no time passed at all. But eventually he gave in to rest. No matter what, the morning would come and he’d rather not fall asleep during the already tedious sermons in church. So he set an alarm, put his book on the nightstand, and laid down.
He closed his eyes, and it was like he could hear the ringing already. 
Maybe he did.
A soft patter-ing rang just outside his door, the familiar sound of footsteps on carpet blotting the silence. And just as he was about to roll over, Andrew heard his door creak open, and the silhouette of a man leaned into the room. 
“Want to go on a walk?” He whispered, twinged with a sense of boredom. 
Andrew didn’t even need to turn to know who was asking. “Give me a moment,” he sighed, and motioned to push himself off the bed. 
“How did you know I was awake?” Andrew asked, still pulling his overcoat over his arms. 
“Your light was on, I saw it through your door.” His brother responded, turning off their driveway onto the sidewalk. He was slightly ahead of Andrew, but slowed a bit so that they were walking together. 
A cloud of mist formed from his breath as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, pulling the coat closer to himself to save some of his last remaining body heat. A near-midnight flit wasn’t what he had planned, but he’d prefer it than trying to sleep. Besides, this may be the only quality time he could spend with his twin during the break. God knows the time they’ve spent at college has already distanced them enough. 
“So,” he huffed, searching for a topic of conversation. “How have you been?” 
“Fine. Uni’s been beating my ass though - we spent practically the entire week leading up to the holidays in the lab, just sweating over our assignments. Jesus, I’m not even a Biochem major but Chemistry is just not letting up.”
It had been years since he was in a lab, but with the track he was on, he got the stress with ‘crunch time’. “I understand. I’ve recently had to rush a project for my Literary Theory course.” 
“What do you even do in that class?” He questioned, half serious, half mocking. 
“Analyze texts, find out how the culture of the author influenced their works.” He could go on: Literary Theory was one of his favorite classes, no matter how rigorous the course was, but he knew his brother wouldn’t care to hear the details. 
Winding down their street, the two carried on talking about academia with a partial interest, not fully understanding either’s field of study but trying to be supportive anyways. Soughing wind bent branches to a static beat as they approached the neighborhood's egress. By and by they were talking about the more social aspects of their schooling: Andrew’s literature club, the parties either rarely attended, his brother’s friends.
“How has your roommate been?” Andrew asked, kicking a rock under his shoe and watching it roll along the concrete. 
“Good.” He sighed out a laugh. “He’s great, actually.”
Andrew glanced over to his brother, and if the slight warmth in his voice wasn’t enough, the red on his cheeks told him everything he needed to know. He chuckled too, and gave a soft nudge on his shoulder, making them both smile. 
In a weird way, they never needed to tell eachother about any of this stuff. Equal parts the awkwardness that surrounded telling your sibling, your twin of all people, who you were interested in and an unspoken alliance against their parents had kept them from ever openly speaking it. But Andrew knew his brother was into guys ever since they were teens, he just didn’t know if his brother had caught on to his own preferences yet.
The stone made a sharp sound as it drifted over to his brother, who promptly kicked it back to Andrew with the inside of his shoe. 
“Helios, right?” 
His brother hummed in response. 
His mind trailed to the man at his college, the one who he had desperately wanted to introduce to him, and found himself grinning at the mere thought. God, he hoped Isaac would like his brother. 
He opened his mouth, then shut it quickly. What would he even say? He trusted his brother, but to come out was something entirely different, and with Christmas just around the corner? No, he’d wait. Right after, though, he’d tell him. Andrew silently swore it to himself. 
“Honestly, I prefer the dorms to the house.” 
That snapped Andrew out of his thinking. “Really?” 
“Yeah.” He stopped abruptly, and threw his arms out in exasperation. “Isn’t it suffocating to you too?” 
Everytime he was in his room, Andrew could only remember the sleepless nights he spent hunched over and studying. The dining table was a barrage of moments he spent silent as his parents and brother fought. The living room was a danger zone, as he never wanted to catch his parents when they were disappointed in his brother, or worse, him. The whole house could burn down and the only memories that would go with it were the most futile. Worse was, even without flames, Andrew felt like he wadded through smoke every time he was in those walls.
He silently nodded his head. His brother just stared at him, as if he wanted voice confirmation. But how can one speak up against the pyre when its fumes had already scorched his vocal cords? 
After a moment, his brother kept walking, and Andrew followed. “I contemplated not coming back this winter.” He muttered.
“As did I.” Andrew responded, suddenly getting his voice back. 
“What could you possibly be avoiding?” 
A million and one answers filled his head, but none escaped him - no matter what he said, not a single one would measure up to his brother's reasons. So why even bother trying to compare? 
His twin huffed as he turned away, suddenly gaining some distance on Andrew, and he let him keep it. 
For a while, the only sound they made was their shoes against concrete sidewalks and the crunch as they occasionally had to step into snow. Andrew brought his hands up to his face, cupping them to breathe and warm himself up. Normally he kept gloves in his pockets, just in case. But, of course, he just had to forget them tonight. His fingers combed through his hair, forcing him to look straight ahead at his brother's back. Again, he bit his tongue. But wasn’t that what had gotten him into this situation, unintentionally pushing his brother away by not talking? He didn’t understand it, but only continuing the cycle wasn’t going to help anything. 
So he opened his mouth, just in time to slam right into his brother. 
He stumbled, but his brother didn’t flinch. Or even look at Andrew. His eyes remained trained to the tree line, frozen in place. 
Regaining his footing, Andrew tried again. “Dar-“
“Stop.” He whispered.
“No, D-“  
“Shut up, Andrew, just listen.” 
So he did. 
For a few seconds, he didn’t hear anything. His eyes fell where his brother’s were focused, though without his glasses, the details were fuzzy. 
Then, a distant chime hit his ear. 
More followed. 
A symphony of church bells rang, each peal like a glimmer in the air. 
Andrew knew they rang the bells at midnight every Christmas Eve, though he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard them. During mass, he could imagine it would be unbearable. But from here? The sound was quite pleasant. 
As the bells continued, the twins stood there, listening to it all. Andrew was the first to tear his eyes away from the church he couldn’t see, glancing over at his brother through the corner of his eye. It was the first good look he had gotten at him in a long time. 
Andrew hadn’t realized how short a decade was. Though in context of anything else, the last ten years of his life had dawdled. But with his brother? It was like the blink of an eye. One moment they were running and laughing, a mirror image of one another - even the Christmas’ were tolerable. Fun, even. The next, blooming into adulthood - mimics of who they used to be.
In fact, the longer he looked at him, Andrew realized just how much his brother had changed. His hair had definitely grown, locked into a short ponytail that hung low with swooping bangs, and he made the full switch to contacts some time ago. He even got taller, and next to Andrew, he was a lofty inch or two higher. Though that could also be accredited to the boots he wore. (Ashamed to say, Andrew didn’t remember when or how he got them. They certainly weren’t a gift from their parents, but did his brother even have a job to afford them?) He was more muscular, which wasn’t saying much compared to Andrew, but he was certainly leaner. The man never made a mention of continuing his secondary school athletics, but maybe he did as an extracurricular? Again, Andrew was straining to remember specifics. Though, he supposed any reason to play was now null, as originally it was a brilliant excuse to come home late without his parents accusing him of deviancy. 
But he wasn’t too alien to him. There was something still familiar to him, like flecks of gold shining through, no matter how small. After all, they began to sneak out when they were fourteen and are still doing it now. There must be something that still connected them. 
Right?
Just as he had that thought, he missed his brother's pass, and the pebble went flying into a curb. 
They walked in silence for a while longer, bells fading to the wind. Eventually they found themselves back on their driveway, and their silence became deafening as they lightened their footsteps. God knows what their parents would do if they found out they had been out so late.
They followed one another up the stairs, crossed the same hallway, and went to rooms adjoining. There was a time they shared one, but that was before they had moved. 
Andrew slipped open his door, the knob turning slowly as to mute itself. As he slipped in, he turned half-way to see his brother doing the same.
His brother looked up, catching his gaze. 
Andrew saw himself in the reflection of his eyes. They were bitter, burning with… not rage. But a violent form of disappointment. 
Andrew was the center of it. And he could smell the smoke wafting. 
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certifiedgeeker · 3 days
Text
“Freak in you”
preview
starting — choso kamo x black! coded reader
contents: college au, smut of course. some feet kissing, nothing too specific yet since it’s a preview
authors note: ahhhhh ik i was supposed to finish my collection like a year ago but i got y’all. i’m about to start being active because i’m ngl these fanfiction streets desperately need a good writer because some of y’all suck ass and don’t know how to make creative story lines or even congruently make a story flow and i’m sick of reading stories that look as though they were written by a 14 year old so here i go !
word count: 621
“you ever came off head before?” the question lazily mumbled against your ear made your heart race and your pussy throb. you were not supposed to be here in this man’s bed yet here you were.
“no.” you meekly responded to which he let out a chuckle sending another pulse through your core. fuck this man was fine and wanted to eat your pussy, couldn’t have better hit the jackpot.
“don’t do that.” you drawled sucking your teeth, twisting your face up at him.
“don’t be mad princess, i’m not making fun of you promise. just surprised is all—pretty girl like you ? i’d be dying to eat this pussy all the time.” he stated without the slightest bit of shame making you weak in the knees. how could he be so…vulgar.
everything about him was so tantalizing. choso kamo, he’s your lab partner for your forensics class. a quiet guy who didn’t talk much with you but when he did is was always so flirty. you’d told him before you had a man but he’d always respond with “if he was doing his job you would be ignoring me right now sweet girl.” that’d send a wave of heat to your cheeks and somewhere else too because it is was true.
he wasn’t doing his job, he’d been “down on his luck” more than a few times and it’s almost like he enjoyed living off you. while you were raised on nothing but expecting princess treatment from a man here you were taking care of one—which was no problem of course. it was all out of love but it’d be a favor that was constantly never returned.
that’s why when choso got a little flirty the other day after class you took the bait. packing up after a lecture you’d noticed him out the side of your eye staring you down.
“did you need something sir?” you asked, a bit of attitude coated your words.
“yeah for you not bite my head off, im not coming to bother you too much. was just hoping you could give me a bit of help understanding whatever that last bit of shit professor meant.” his words as lax as his stride as he approached you.
you knew choso was by no means unintelligent averaging a’s and b’s constantly on all class assignments. “you don’t need my help you just wanna bother me.” you stated matter of factly placing your hand on you hip as you sucked your teeth
“i’ll beg if that’s what you want.” he shot back way too quickly as if it’d been something he’d thought about before. “sir get the the fuck—.” you started ready to pop off but he’d already beaten you to it “i’m not expecting anything for free, i can pay you in return.” that lazy smirk gracing his face, the same one he sported as he lowered himself between your legs as he kept eye contact with you refusing to break it.
he left kisses in his wake down your stomach, across your thighs, even your ankles and feet making the heat rise to your face and look away though not for long. “make sure you’re watching me while i make you feel good, understand?” he questioned and you ignored.
“i need words, or else we can stop this right here.” no hint of previous playfulness in his tone just lust and the need to fuck your shit up.
“yeah i hear you.” was all you could say trying to not let the tremble of your voice show. “good girl.” he cooed pressing a warm kiss to the bottom of your pedicured feet before resuming where he left off which was studying every part of you.
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aspiringtrashpanda · 24 hours
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The love of my life, reason to live. I humbly ask you, once again, to indulge me with attentive bf Beel who knows Mc's appetite like the back of his hand. He knows exactly how long to wait before eating off their plate. Thank you in advance, i love you so much❤️
anything for my love, my everything, my personal banner maker.
also wow beel nation, are you okay? first three requests are beel-centric like WHAT?
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Characters: Beel x MC, brothers make an appearance Attentive bf Beel, pure fluff with the teensiest bit of spice No warnings apply
It was a normal evening. Satan and Beel had been on dinner duty, Lucifer had been at RAD late, and Levi had been holed up in his room for three whole days. Something about the release of a new horror roguelike. Mammon had tried to sell Asmo on his latest get rich quick scheme, promising that all he would need as an investment was a lock of Asmo’s hair, and well, that wasn’t going to fly. Only one glass of demonus had been spilled across the table - Mammon having lunged towards Asmo to get it himself - and Belphie had fallen asleep mid-sentence a record low of twice. 
A completely normal evening. 
The brothers, however, worried a storm was on the horizon.
“Did ya see that?” Mammon hissed to Levi, the latter grumbling under his breath. Apparently the distraction had sent him back to level 1. 
Lucifer sighed, humming over the lip of his glass. “He’s going to hear about that later.”
“Really, his table manners are going to be the death of him one day,” Asmo lamented, flicking his fork with a flourish. A piece of sautéed hemlock freed itself from the prongs and smacked against Satan’s cheek. He brushed it away with a scoff. 
You paid them no mind, choosing instead to focus on Levi’s handheld console, Beel's chewing a comforting soundtrack to your right.
The screen visible from where you sat, you leaned into Levi's personal bubble, watching his little avatar slash through blob-like monsters. He jolted at your proximity, scowling when a walking skeleton stabbed his character through the heart.
“Not cool!” Levi shimmied his chair away from you. “Everyone needs to stop distracting me!” 
With a shrug, you turned back to your plate, finding it empty. Beel’s jaw moved continuously as he smiled down at you. His indigo eyes glimmered with affection, and you had the impression that he cared not about his brother’s whispers. Only about you. Your heart swelled, the familiar heat spilling through your veins and flooding the tips of your fingers.
You excused yourself from the table. Beel followed you exactly 5 seconds later. 
“You’re not having dessert?” The question slipped out as you looped your arms around his sturdy middle, as you rested your head against his body’s warmth. It was strange for him to leave the dining room so quickly. Usually, he joined you in your room after obliterating whatever sweets Luke had made for him to try. 
“I will be.” His answer vibrated through his frame, buzzing through your skull. 
Your mind went to the gutter, the muscles of his abdomen contracting as he leaned down, as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. His exhale rustled your hair, his hands so strong, so large as they covered your hips. 
A violent blush burning your skin, you managed a flustered squeak, “Oh! I didn’t realize it was that kind of night.”
He paused. Straightened up. Blinked twice. The confusion in his gaze was but a brief flash before it was overtaken by sheer enthusiasm. If he was a dog, you were certain his tail would be wagging. As he pulled you flush against him once more, he laughed, “I meant that I’d have dessert when you’re hungry again in an hour, but I could go for that kind of sweet, if you’re offering.”
As you led him to your bed, the last thing on your mind was whether you’d be peckish within the hour. 
However, at breakfast the next morning, you found yourself realizing that you had ended up munching on one of Luke’s cookies after a healthy dose of debauchery. Beel had raced from your bed to return with a plate of goodies in exactly 96 seconds (you timed him on your stopwatch app - a new record!), and you had curled up in front of your television to watch the latest episode of Barbeque Life before Lucifer came by to ensure that Beel slept in his own bed. 
You smiled. Beelzebub was always so attentive and receptive to your needs. It didn’t surprise you that he understood your stomach’s schedule. 
“Tell me, hon,” Asmo sang the moment Beel left the table to retrieve more hell coffee from the kitchen, “Is everything alright with you and Beel?”
Multiple utensils clattered to their plates, wide eyes swiveling from brother to brother. Mammon looked particularly spooked, while Lucifer simply pinched the bridge of his nose. 
“Uh, yeah?” You swallowed your devilbee honey pudding, the sweet treat turning bitter on your tongue. “Why? Did he say something?”
Shoulders relaxed instantly, sighs of relief bouncing back and forth like ping pong balls. The table was an appropriate length for table tennis, you supposed. However, while the brothers laughed off the strange question, your uncertainty only grew. 
Levi pretended to wipe sweat from his brow, an exaggerated gesture you were sure he learned from an anime. “Oh? Okay, phew. We were worried he was in trouble lol.”
Your chest felt warm, your heart pounding. “Why would he be in trouble?”
“Well because he-” Levi started, just to squawk as Mammon swatted his face, “Er, n-no reason!”
A beat of silence. Beel’s heavy footsteps as he returned to the dining room, coffee pot in hand. You were keenly aware of the tightness of your throat, your swallow lodging halfway down your esophagus. As Beel refilled Lucifer’s coffee, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the tension hanging in the air.
It was never fun walking into a silent room, acutely aware that everyone had been talking about you. 
“What’s going on?” Beel asked, settling back into his seat. He accented his words by snagging a muffin from your plate, picking at the hell berries crusting the top. 
Before you could ask him the same question, Asmo shrieked, “He just did it again!”
Satan shook his head slowly, Mammon gawking at the giant demon next to you. Lucifer continued to read the morning paper, refusing to participate in such shenanigans. 
“RIP Beel,” Levi muttered, “It was nice knowing you.”
The confusion escalated tenfold, frustration pricking at the soles of your feet. You threw up your hands, huffing, “Okay, is someone going to tell us what you’re all going on about?”
Beel peered curiously at his brothers as they averted their eyes, as they pretended that their meal hadn’t been interrupted. His fingers brought a piece of your toast to his mouth, his brow creasing as he chewed thoughtfully. 
Belphie raised his head with a yawn. “Beel keeps eating your food.”
“From your plate,” Mammon added.
Satan nodded curtly, “Without permission.”
Your stomach dropped. You weren’t sure if you were disappointed or relieved.
“Oh,” You glanced around the table, noticing at that moment that Beel had moved your plate in front of him. “That’s it?”
Asmo pointed in accusation, protesting, “Doesn’t it bother you?”
“No?” This was so absurd. You were used to bonkers conversations at every meal, but their sheer concern was truly comical. “Actually…”
It was Belphie who cut in, propping his chin in his palm. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he drawled, “They’re always done eating. Beel knows when they’re full.”
The looks of disbelief on Mammon and Levi’s faces were so similar, you wondered if they were twins. They spluttered in surprise, the latter exclaiming, “But they hardly ate their breakfast! How could they be full?!”
And Beel - sweet, calm, confident Beel - shrugged. As if it was the most obvious answer in the world, he explained. “They’re sleepy in the morning, and not very hungry. They only eat a little bit. They’ll be hungry in about 2 hours. That’s why I pack the leftovers before we leave for RAD.” 
This time, the brothers weren’t the only ones shocked. Lifting your jaw from the carpeted floor, you gasped, “The leftovers aren’t for yourself?”
A bright vein of pride shone in his eyes, fuschia within the indigo depths. “I mean, I partake, but only after you’ve had your fill.”
“Huh,” was all you managed to respond, your brain too busy flipping through the memories of all the snacks and meals Beel had brought you regardless of request. His fingers curled around your shoulder, amusement brightening his face. 
The gentle squeeze brought you back to reality, just in time to hear Mammon say, “Hey Beel, do ya think you have telepathic abilities outside of you and Belphie?”
“What a stupid question,” Satan scoffed, though you knew he was waiting for Beel’s answer himself. 
Your fingers curled around his, anchored on your shoulder, grounding you in the moment. And what a moment it was, for Beel simply snorted, “Nah, I just pay attention to my partner.”
Why Mammon considered that a declaration of war, you weren’t entirely sure. But two hours later, when Beel passed you a container of carefully wrapped leftovers, you knew that you were the luckiest person in the world. 
*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜
My requests are open! Find out more HERE. Banner made by @4laurus - have you seen her Beel?
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feyburner · 18 hours
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thank you for all the cooking/baking tips!! do you have any idea how to make a good sponge cake? my last one was a lottle bit on the “dry dish sponge” end of things and I’m hoping to make a doolsho that is not like that
I’d never heard of a doolsho. I looked it up and it sounds amazing. Cardamom is one of my favorite flavors, I get the big bags of green cardamom from the halal mart and grind them with my mortar and pestle.
It looks like doolsho is a classic sponge cake, leavened only with whipped eggs. Sponge cake is kind of innately dry bc there’s no liquid or fat added, vs regular cakes that have milk/yogurt/sour cream, butter or oil, etc.
So you really have to make sure you get all the components right in order to hit the right texture: whip your egg whites to stiff not soft peaks (watch videos if unsure), carefully measure flour either by weight or with the spoon & level method, and geeeently fold in the egg whites at the end—stirring and folding are two very different things. Make sure your oven’s temperature is accurate (many ovens fluctuate terribly) so ensure you’re not baking too hot.
You can try adding a little oil to the batter—just 2-4 Tbsp or so. Not butter. Butter tastes better, but it’s solid at room temperature and only dries out a cake further. Oil is liquid at room temperature and will keep a cake moist for days.
Sponge cakes also absorb liquids and syrups like a sponge! You can make a simple syrup and soak the cake (pour it gently over while the cake is still hot and let cool): Equal parts water and sugar (like 1/3 cup each—you’ll have leftovers) in a saucepan, then add whatever flavoring you want. Cardamom pods, vanilla, orange blossom water, etc. Heat until sugar fully dissolves. Done.
I don’t often make sponge cakes bc I love dense, moist cakes.
Here is my recipe for a classic Southern “hot milk” vanilla cake. It’s similar to sponge in that most of the rise comes from the eggs (though there is baking powder).
Instead of creaming butter and sugar as a base, the butter is melted into a hot milk mixture, which is then poured into the batter to give form and rise to the aerated eggs. This method results in a very moist, tender, velvety crumb.
This is from a little cookbook I made to share with family and friends.
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And just for fun, here is my recipe for Gâteau au Yaourt, a cake I have memorized that requires no measuring cups, in case you’re ever stranded on a desert island or a garbage Airbnb with only yogurt and pantry staples.
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Text
Sebastian motivating you to take your final exam
Pairings: Boyfriend!Sebastian Stan x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: Sebastian gives you motivation to take your final college exam.
Warnings: Fluff, implied Smut (18+), language, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s), kissing, pet names
A/N: I used Google translate for the Romanian translations. I apologize if I got anything wrong.
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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“Baby, I’m home!” Sebastian’s voice echoed through the house. “Are you home?” He asks.
He frowned when you didn’t greet him or answered him. He heard the TV playing in the living room. He went to the living room to see you on the couch studying for your final college exam with your back facing him. He walked up behind you, being careful to not scare you.
“Hi, dragă.” He says softly, kissing your cheek.
“Hi, Sebby.” You say with a sigh.
Sebastian looked at your laptop screen, noticing that you were going over a topic for your final exam before he left for his meeting this morning.
“How long have you been studying?” He asks.
“Since you left for your meeting.” You say, not taking your eyes off the laptop screen.
“Did you take any breaks?” He asks.
“One. I left the house for Starbucks and that’s it.” You tell him, pointing at the empty Starbucks cup on the coffee table.
Sebastian sighs before closing your laptop and taking it from you.
“Hey!” You reached for your laptop, but he held it further away from you. “I wasn’t done!” You whined, doing grabby hands for your laptop.
“You, dragul meu, are done studying for the night.” Sebastian says.
“I just don’t want to fail is all.” You say, looking down.
Sebastian gently cupped your cheeks, gently lifting your head to get you to look him in the eye.
“You’re going to ace that final exam.” He assures. “You’re one of the smartest people I know.” He tells you before kissing you sweetly.
Your hands grasped his shirt as you melted under his touch and kiss.
“How about you change into something comfortable and we can watch movies for the rest of the night.” Sebastian suggests.
“I like the sound of that.” You say, kissing him once more.
You went to yours and Sebastian’s bedroom to change into your pajamas which consists of one of Sebastian’s shirts. You went back to the living room and sat down next to him on the couch, snuggling yourself against his side.
“You know…” You sat up. “We don’t have to pay attention to the movie.” You say with a hint of mischief in your voice.
“Oh yea? What do you have in mind, dragă?” Sebastian asks, looking at you.
You got on his lap, straddling him. You leaned in and kissed him hungrily. His hands found their way to your hips and pulled you closer to him. Let’s just say that you two didn’t pay attention to the movie at all.
The next morning, you woke up to the sun peaking through the curtains. You whined, knowing what day it is. Exam day.
“Morning, baby.” Sebastian says softly.
“Morning, Sebby.” You say.
You turned over so you were facing him and gave him a good morning kiss.
“Motivate me to take that exam.” You say.
“You’re going to ace that exam, dragă.” He kisses your lips. “You’re the smartest woman I know.” He kisses you again. “Then you’re going to graduate this weekend and you’re finally done.” He gives you another kiss. “Which means we can do whatever you want.” He says, kissing you once more.
“I want to go somewhere tropical and warm after I graduate.” You tell him.
“We can do that.” He smiles. “After all the hard work you’ve done, you deserve it.” He says.
Sebastian kisses you one more time, but it turned into a heated make out session. He got on top of you, hovering over you.
“You need to get ready for that exam.” Sebastian says, pulling away.
You playfully pouted as he got off of you. You sighed and got ready for class.
“Good luck. I love you, dragă.” Sebastian says, kissing you passionately.
“I love you too, babe.” You say, kissing him back before leaving.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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rosanna-writer · 2 days
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we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (21/?)
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Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~4.6k
ch. 1 - 10 | ch. 11-20 | ch. 21 - i wouldn't marry me either
Feyre gets her ring, and there's angst about it that literally no one asked for.
Some text in this chapter is taken directly from A Court of Mist and Fury.
Read on AO3 or you can find the twenty-first chapter below the readmore.
Well met, High Lady.
The words clanged through me.
But there was hardly time to consider them. The Weaver's dress rustled as she stood and prowled towards me. Though her features were so rotted and warped that they could hardly be called a face anymore, I still recognized a look of hunger—I'd seen it enough back in that cabin.
I suspected, however, that her appetite was far more gruesome than mine.
"I'm here to make a bargain," I said quickly.
She took another step closer, the motion oddly graceful—the Weaver carried herself more like a lady than I could ever manage. Perhaps, millennia ago, she'd been one.
"What could you possibly have to offer me?" she said in that voice that sounded so youthful, so clear and lovely.
"Lives," I said. "A few dozen, enough for several meals and bolts of cloth. There isn't much meat on my bones, but they'll have more."
"Not even a thread from your own life, little wolf?" The Weaver reached out a sickly-looking bone-white hand, running a gnarled, spindly finger down my ribs. I trembled. Her touch was feather-light, but it seemed to leech the heat from me all the same. "The one I see right here is quite beautiful."
The mating bond. Nothing was worth giving that away. I took a step back, all-too-aware that I was dangerously close to being cornered.
"That is not on offer."
The Weaver's laugh was bright and and musical. "Are you sure about that?Powerful magic makes for fine cloth. I'd pay a pretty penny for a golden thread like that."
The Weaver of the Wood might have been a death-god, but she sounded no different than the businessmen I'd overheard meeting with my father before his downfall. I was too much of a merchant's daughter to fall for it.
"I"m here to retrieve the ring that's rightfully mine as Lady of the Night Court. Nothing more." I seldom voiced my title aloud, and perhaps for the first time, saying it didn't make me feel like a girl playing dress-up with clothes far too big for her.
The dark lines of the Weaver's mouth widened into what might have been a grin. "And I was told by the last one not to make it easy on you."
Of course his mother did—Rhys could be maddening, and I supposed he must have gotten it from somewhere.
"If you accept my offer, there may be more than one mating bond in it for you. I don't know how many of them have a mate, but the rogue Illyrian war-bands are yours if you return my ring and allow me to leave this place unharmed."
I'd practiced the words in my head, careful to close a loophole, but it still came as a surprise that my voice didn't shake. The Weaver circled me, occasionally reaching out a bony hand to inspect the knives strapped to my waist and thighs. I let her look, even as I shivered—if they were something she wanted, she could have them, too.
"You will touch nothing in this cottage save the ring. Bring me half of your prisoners as a show of good faith, and you will have until I'm finished with them to find what's yours. Then deliver the rest immediately and leave me be."
I doubted she'd take very long doing…whatever she did to her victims. But I still didn't feel a pull towards a single object in any of the crowded shelves or piles of junk filling the cottage. There wouldn't be time for a thorough search.
And the bloodthirsty delight sparking in pits that should have been her eyes told me she knew it, too.
"What happens if I don't find the ring?" I said, letting my hand drift towards the handle of the knife at my hip.
"My terms have been more than generous, High Lady. Don't push me any further."
There it was again…that title. "Why did you call me that?" I should have focused on bargaining, but the words were out of my mouth before I could think them through.
"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to."
More cryptic faerie bullshit, then. I flexed the fingers of my left hand self-consciously. A death-god could probably see through a glamour. Nothing more.
I squared my shoulders. "Fine. I accept the terms of your bargain."
The tang of magic filled the air as a small, curling tattoo formed just behind my ear. A crescent moon—its twin was now inked on the Weaver's forearm.
One tug on the bond, and Rhys delivered half of the rogue Illyrians to the cottage door.
I'd turned away just as the Weaver's mouth of stumped teeth went wide in anticipation. There were screams, sickly gurgles, wet noises as she ripped flesh into pieces, the crunch and crack of bones breaking.
Bones. Snapping, splintering bones, just like—
I forced myself to breathe, even as my heart raced and bile climbed up my throat. Borrowed time. I was on borrowed time, and there wouldn't be much of it.
I scanned the shelves, hoping to catch sight of a jewel glittering in the gloom. But all I saw was junk, even as I crouched and looked over the cluttered tables and overstuffed drawers…
Then I felt it.
A tug, a tap on the shoulder. A glimmer of something reaching for me, familiar as the whorls of night that had left me with my tattoo, laced with a constellation pointing the way. But even as it grasped me…there was something else.
The star-flecked power felt quintessentially Rhys, but…there was something of me in it, too. It was strange, like looking into a mirror and finding two sets of eyes—one violet and one blue-grey—staring back.
Take me home, it seemed to say. I've been away far too long.
Heedless of the horrible noises behind me, I barreled through the maze of tables and junk, letting the pulse guide the way. I stopped at the shelf on the wall next to the hearth. Close—it was close.
An old letter knife, books in leather that I did not want to touch or smell; a handful of acorns, a tarnished crown of ruby and jasper, and—
The ring.
It was made of twisted strands of gold and silver, flecked with pearl, and set with a stone of deepest, solid blue. Sapphire—but different. I’d never seen a sapphire like that, even at my father’s offices. This one…I could have sworn that in the pale light, the lines of a six-pointed star radiated across the round, opaque surface.
My ring.
"There you are," I couldn't help but whisper. "I've been looking for you."
Careful to keep my bargain, I plucked it from the shelf, pinching it between my forefinger and thumb to avoid touching anything else. Time to go. I turned towards the door.
And nearly retched on the spot. The Illyrians weren't dead yet—they were still shrieking like wounded animals—but their shredded entrails were…everywhere. And the Weaver had unhinged her jaw to sate that unholy hunger.
As I walked past them to leave the cottage, I did not look away. I had chosen this fate for them, horrible as it was. The least I could do was bear witness, even as my feet slid along the blood-soaked floor and crossed the threshold.
The rest of them were hers, too. The screams started again, and I felt the tattoo fade. As I stalked towards the trees, I clutched the ring so tightly that the prongs around the sapphire nearly split open my skin.
And perhaps it made me a monster, a murderous human with ice in her heart, but…I didn't feel guilty. If anything, I was relieved. The echo of magic that had wormed its way into my soul belonged solely to the Night Court, and there was nothing linking me back to Tamlin or Spring. I wasn't…tainted.
I found Rhys leaning casually against a tree, hands in his pockets—lounging practically. As I approached, his groomed brows flicked up in a silent question.
I held up the ring.
A smile—a real one, not a smirk, something boyish and decidedly un-High-Lord-like—bloomed on his face. Despite the agonized screams still ringing in my ears, my stomach flipped pleasantly. I grinned back.
With the horror growing even more distant, I let myself feel proud of what I'd done. And maybe it was just the way Rhys was smiling at me, but I felt…lighter. Giddy, almost.
I'd done it. The ring in my hand was tangible proof that I deserved my place in the Night Court, at his side, and I hadn't realized how much better it made me feel to have it.
Too eager to walk, Rhys winnowed the last few feet of distance between us. I pressed forward to kiss him, rising up on my toes, and he scooped me up in one smooth movement.
Not that I'd ever doubt you, he said in my head, but should I take this to mean it all went smoothly?
Of course it did—I only ever bargain fairly.
Rhys laughed against my lips, setting me back down. When he pulled away, his violet eyes were soft. "You're brilliant," he breathed, reaching up to run a thumb along my cheek. "I didn't think I'd ever see that ring again."
He took my free hand and winnowed us away. I'd assumed we were going to the townhouse, or at least, back to Velaris, and blinked in surprise when a clearing in a pine forest materialized instead. Illyria.
Before us were two stones—headstones. They were small but unworn, with no decoration or text other than two names I didn't recognize. And in front of them, the grass was covered in pebbles and small rocks.
Rhys must have understood my confusion. Voice thick, he said, "Our kind don't leave flowers on graves like humans do. As immortals…we prefer something more permanent and leave stones instead."
Each stone a visit, and there were piles of them, small stacks like miniature fortresses. I wondered how many Rhys had left, if any had been added since he'd been imprisoned Under the Mountain. The grass around the graves was well-kept—someone had been taking care of this place, or at least cast a few preserving spells. Rhys slipped his hand from mine and stepped forward, folding his wings back so they didn't drag on the ground as he sat in an empty patch of grass.
"I'm sorry," he said, and I almost asked why he was apologizing before I realized he wasn't speaking to me, "for going so long without visiting both of you. I was— It's over now. I'm back. And I didn't come back alone. This is Feyre. She's my mate, and I kept my promise, mama. Feyre bargained and got the ring back."
Still feeling like a bit of an intruder, I took a few cautious steps forward and sat in the grass next to him. I reached a hand out, but Rhys didn't take it, just wiped at his eyes. For a long moment, everything was quiet except for the distant sound of birds and the wind blowing through the pines.
I'd never visited my own mother's grave. It had been years since I'd missed her, and if our situations had been reversed, I doubted she would have visited mine. I'd long since made my peace with it.
Perhaps my mother-in-law could have filed that void, been someone I could lean on. But all I had from her was a lesson on ruthlessness that had won me the ring in my hand.
"I wish I could have asked you for advice, on how to be Lady of Night when you're a nineteen-year-old outsider. I have the ring but…I don't know if it's enough," I said quietly. "More than anything, though, I'd like to thank you. For raising him."
A ragged noise escaped Rhys, and I reached my free hand out again. He interlaced our fingers, squeezing almost to the point of pain. I squeezed back, then turned to the other grave. "I grew up with two sisters, Nesta and Elain. But now…I suppose I have three," I said.
As one, Rhys and I got to our feet. We stood there, hand-in-hand, and for a moment, the hole where his family should have been seemed deep enough to swallow everything. It didn't matter that centuries had passed—so much was missing and irreparably broken.
But I wasn't finished, and I forced myself to keep going. I'd fulfilled a promise today, but I had a new oath to swear. "The male who got you killed ripped me from my family and manipulated me for his own ends. If Rhys and I hadn't found each other…my blood would have been on Tamlin's hands, too. I won't allow him to endanger a Night Court female again."
We lingered in silence a bit longer, then left two stones behind on each grave. Rhys winnowed us to the living room of the townhouse. There was more to do—Amren would no doubt want to be informed about what I'd sensed in the Weaver's cottage, and I wanted to change out of my leathers first.
But I couldn't keep holding onto the ring forever. I uncurled my fingers, holding it out to him. "Do you…want it back?"
"It's yours," he said, as if that settled it.
I didn't have the nerve to slip the ring on, even after shedding blood to get it. Not even here, in the privacy of our own home. I'd never questioned the mating bond—how could I when it was the strongest thing I'd ever known? But this was different.
The bond belonged to the two of us. Wearing a family ring was a public declaration.
Rhys cocked his head, studying me again. I was still too caught up in my own thoughts to move. For a moment, I expected a familiar caress of talons against my shields, but it never came.
No, Rhys just plucked the ring from my hand and dropped down to one knee. "Feyre—"
My heart hammered in my chest, and I nearly bolted upstairs. But I couldn't run from him without a word—not again and certainly not like this.
"Don't," I choked out. Rhys went utterly still, forcing his expression into something blank and composed. My eyes stung, but I kept going before I made this worse than it already was. "You wouldn't marry me if I were a faerie."
He blinked. "Of course I—"
"You wouldn't. Because marriage is a silly, pointless formality when there's already an unbreakable thread binding our souls together. But I…" My throat bobbed. "Please don't start treating me differently because I'm human."
In Spring, I'd been something to be gawked at, addressed as "human" instead of my name. I'd felt small and stupid and useless, and I would not let anyone do that to me again, not even if they meant well, like he did.
And especially not in the Night Court, where I belonged.
Rhys stood and wiped away the tears that were now streaming down my cheeks. I let the soft brush of his calloused hands settle me as his wings nudged me closer and encircled us both.
"I'm sorry. You looked so unsure just now, and I… I needed you to know I'd choose you in every way possible."
A surprised—if still a bit teary—laugh bubbled out of me. I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder. "I know you would. Sometimes what we feel for each other is the only thing I think I'm sure of."
I felt the tension melt from his body. With a stab of guilt, I wondered if running off to the House of Wind on our first night back had left him with doubts that ran deeper than I'd originally thought. But I let it go—it was hard to keep dwelling on the past when he was letting out a contented hum and kissing the top of my head.
I let myself savor the peace for a few heartbeats, but I couldn't ignore the way he'd only wrapped one arm around me. The other still held the ring.
"For what it's worth, I do want to wear it," I whispered. "I know I can't, at least for now, but if things were different, I would. Every day."
Rhys stepped back and smiled, taking my left hand in his, cradling it as if it were something delicate—not calloused in odd places from holding a bow, with crescents of dirt and blood under my ragged nails. The glamour fell away, revealing the swirling lines of the half-finished tattoo.
He slid the ring onto my finger. I'd thought it might look wrong there, but the ring was Illyrian and my hands were rough like a warrior's. The fit was perfect, and it sat in a gap that had been left between the whorls of my tattoo.
Like it was always meant to be there.
The intensity of emotions rippling across his face was so strong I nearly had to look away. Love, reverent adoration…and that purely male, possessive gleam in his star-flecked eyes. My toes curled in my boots.
"I'm yours, mate," I whispered.
His mouth crashed into mine just the way I'd hoped it would. I parted my lips eagerly, ready to lose myself in the sweep of his tongue.
Maybe I'd never get used to how quickly I could be ready and aching for him. But the pleasure he'd wrung from me last night hadn't been enough, not after several days keeping our hands off each other in Illyria. One scrape of his teeth against my bottom lip, and I was scrabbling at the fastenings of his leathers.
I reached for him through the bond, and his shields were down in an instant. Will you wear one too, Rhys? To let everyone know you're mine?
Those last two words dragged a groan from deep in his throat. He shucked the leathers and undershirt off in one smooth movement, and I ran my hands down, down the hard planes of his muscled chest. Lower and lower, until I brushed the trail of soft hair above the waistband of his pants.
Even in our minds, I sounded breathless. Fuck me while I wear the ring and nothing else.
A flash of pain sparked and lit up the mating bond, even as his tongue plunged deeper into my mouth. I leaped back, shocked as if a bucket of ice had been thrown over us both.
Rhys was breathing hard, eyes wide and wild. He pushed me out of his mind, and his shields were firmly in place again. The walls of adamant were higher and thicker than I'd ever felt them.
"What's wrong?" I said aloud.
"I'm sorry," he breathed. Darkness fell from his shoulders in pulsing, furious waves. A few tendrils wrapped around him like a cloak, and the rest dimmed the room.
He reached for me. I stepped back again. "Rhysand. Tell me what's wrong."
For a long moment, Rhys said nothing. He pressed his eyes shut, his breathing still uneven. I waited. The darkness kept leaking into the room, and when it was pitch-black, he finally spoke.
"The ring with Jurian's eye. She never took it off. Not even when we…" he managed to say.
My heart cracked in two.
"Cauldron, Rhys, I'm so sorry. I should have realized." That ring had featured in so many of our nightmares; I'd been utterly, monumentally stupid not to think of it.
I wanted to hold him, but that seemed….unwise. It might startle him if the dark was too thick for him to see me coming closer. With his shields up, I couldn't reach down the bond and drag him back to the present like I wanted to.
His wings. He still had his wings out. "Rhys," I said, as gently as I could manage. "Go fly. Circle Velaris as many times as you need to. I'll be here when you get back."
There was a rustling noise as his wings snapped outward. Something soft brushed my cheek, and then I was alone, squinting in the too-bright sunlight when the darkness disappeared with him.
I'd ruined everything, so there was nothing to be done but change out of my leathers and wait. My heart was heavy as I sank into one of the chairs on the roof and watched the sky, hoping for a glimpse of him.
I wished I'd been the sort of person who could have just smiled and happily accepted a proposal. Or at the very least, not someone who made it worse by dredging up his nightmares unexpectedly.
Maybe we'd never get completely free from Under the Mountain.
The other end of the bond was silent, and I twisted the ring around my finger so many times I nearly rubbed the skin raw. I could just make out his dark shape against the clouds, the powerful beat of his wings as he looped and looped over the city. One day, I hoped, he'd do the same and carry me with him.
It was a while before Rhys landed on the roof. The movement was easy and graceful, the draft of wind from that massive wingspan ruffling my hair as he touched down with silent feet. He regarded me, eyes dry, standing stiff-backed in a way that seemed unnatural for him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I said, though I knew he didn't.
He shook his head. "I just want you."
In an instant, I was on his lap on the other chair. His breath was warm against my ear as he sighed, draping both arms over my shoulders as he leaned his chest against my back. Exhaustion seemed to roll off him the way his power usually did. We said nothing, but Rhys laced our fingers together and pressed a kiss to the knuckle of my left hand, right next to the ring.
No hard feelings, then.
It was another day before we met with Amren, who made me describe everything I'd felt in the Weaver's cottage in excruciating detail. There was more research to be done, but she had a new working theory—that the Spring Court hadn't left me with any of its own magic, just reshaped the Night Court's existing claim on me.
The faint magic within me wasn't an echo—it had become a seed.
Whether it would bloom or bear fruit or something else entirely was anyone's guess. If given the opportunity, I had the sense Amren would pick me apart to find out. But it was better than going on no information at all.
A few weeks later, I landed a hit on Cassian with a wooden sword the same day I finished the first book I ever read from cover-to-cover. The days had passed as a steady rhythm of training and reading, mostly spent in the House of Wind.
Life was…quiet. Better, though not perfect. Rhys and I still depended on the sleeping draught, and the library was the only windowless place either of us could tolerate for more than an hour at a time. We chipped away at the work of catching up—me on literacy, him on the business of running the Night Court—in companionable silence on sunlit balconies or tucked away among the priestesses.
The rest days were the hardest to tolerate. Without exhaustion to settle my mind, I found myself wandering the city aimlessly, too restless to sit still. The streets of Velaris quickly became familiar.
All of it, except for the Rainbow. I hadn't gotten up the nerve to set foot in the artists' quarter. I'd skirted the edges carefully, and in truth, stared at it wistfully on more than one occasion.
I suspected that Tamlin had given me paints as a distraction, a ploy to quiet me down and soften my feelings towards him. And even if it had just been an attempt to break the curse and save his people…it hurt. Something I loved had been used against me, and I wasn't sure I could throw my whole self into painting so fearlessly ever again.
But I did finish the snowdrops lining the edges of the kitchen table. And it had felt…good. My heart squeezed at the way Rhys smiled every time he looked at them.
There were more leftover paints, so I took to hiding clever decorations in my room, just as I had in the cabin. Behind the curtains, under the dressing table, inside drawers…and nothing more than flowering vines, curls of flame, or intricate, abstract designs. Nothing with me in it.
It was all I could manage. Not a secret, but…I didn't want to be watched or talk about it.
Rhys spotted them eventually, of course. He'd been sprawled out on my bed one morning, staring at my ass as I slipped off my nightgown to get ready for the day. When I heard his sharp intake of breath behind me, I figured he'd noticed the ivy painted on the inside of the drawer I'd just opened.
I'd whirled around, ready to lob a pair of socks at his head in response to a teasing remark. Or worse, for him to be upset that I hadn't told him I'd painted.
But he'd just tilted his head, regarded me thoughtfully, and said, "That's one way to hide what's precious to you."
He'd once said something similar about his wings. And I'd supposed the same thing was true for keeping Velaris and our mating bond hidden. Those violet eyes met mine, and I felt…understood. Somehow, it wasn't terrifying.
It gave me the confidence to start leaving those little hidden designs around the rest of the townhouse. I'd started with his room, then expanded to the kitchen and the foyer. Claiming marks, if you knew where to look for them.
Similar to my mating band, which I took to wearing hidden on a chain under my shirt. Rhys did the same, after he'd offered to find a horrible creature to retrieve his from and call us even.
I wasn't quite sure what I'd do when the paints ran out, and I'd been deliberately not thinking much about it. But my walks took me past the city's outdoor sculptures and murals more often lately, and perhaps that was progress.
But it was only a matter of time before the peace was broken again. We were roused from our beds with news of another attack on a temple, this one at Sangravah.
The security measures Rhys had arranged for the priestesses left survivors this time, though not many. Once he left for the temple, I headed to the library, prepared to help with whatever the priestesses needed, just like before.
I'd expected to prepare more bodies for burial, but Mor walked in with an auburn-haired female wrapped in a blood-soaked cloak that was far too big for her.
"I healed her," Mor said, "but she needs someone to help her get settled."
I agreed to handle it, and the priestess turned at the sound of my voice. Her teal eyes were distant—haunted, really. More blood, hers or someone else's, had spattered on her face.
Clearing the mess away with magic wouldn't be enough for her to feel clean after whatever ordeal she'd just gone through—I knew that after everything Under the Mountain. I fetched a washcloth and basin and helped her clean off.
She didn't speak. And perhaps that was for the best—I had no idea what I would have said anyway. Later that night, I learned from another priestess that her name was Gwyneth Berdara and Hybern had slaughtered her twin sister during the attack.
As Catrin Berdara's name was read during the funeral service a few hours later, I decided it was finally time to stop avoiding my own sisters. Mortal lives were short, and in a hundred years, I'd regret not making the most of the time I had with them.
Even if I couldn't find the words to tell Nesta and Elain all the ways my life had changed since coming to Prythian, I'd go to the mortal lands tomorrow.
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sciderman · 22 hours
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I know nothing of comics really, and all I know for Spideypool shit is that run really. I know you posted a short list of your recommendations and I read those, but are there more? Teach me your ways.
there's really honestly such slim pickings for spider-man/deadpool team-ups, @psychoticflyingdragonbunnies my beloved... if you've read my recommendations and you've read the sm/dp series then i think you've basically read all there is to read when it comes to spideypool! there really wasn't much in the way of canon spideypool content when i started here - and you'll actually find a LOT of my early stuff was influenced by fanon just as much as canon. because there really wasn't much canon. there really wasn't. in fact, there's fanon pieces that are so, so influential and have lived in my head for so long that - if you saw them, you'd instantly say "ah. yep. that's where sci got it from."
thinking of you, that one spideypool doujin illustrated by brian.curry that lives in my head and will never leave no matter what i do no matter where i go will always always always revolve in my brain never ceasing never stopping never ever even on my death bed this is what i will be thinking about always and forever for the rest of time always forever infinity until the heat death of the universe
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HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH.
yeah. this doujin irreversably changed me. it was so perfect and wonderful and i've done everything in my power to continue whatever this is because i think the world needs more of it.
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so! when it comes to spideypool you'll have to lean more into the fanon stuff. the canon stuff isn't great. and there's not a lot of it. but there's so much really really good fanon stuff. if you know where to look. it used to be much easier to find, before the mcu ruined everything. the japanese do it well, though. sometimes. they do it better than we do. i think the west pales in comparison. even in their freaking anime!!
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i think a lot of the spideypool things i consumed around the time i started writing the blog was from pixiv and japanese artists. so all of that fell into the pot. i was very well-read and researched in the world of spideypool, once upon a time. not so much anymore. i have no idea what's going on with the spideypool fandom right now, it's so scary to me. so i keep to my little corner, with my cozy little personal wade and peter, whomst i love so much. they're the wade and peter i want to see. so i stick with them, and hide away from the spideypool fandom at large. i've seen so much spideypool content that i don't want to see. so i stay in the safe little corner i've created for myself. it's a shame though - because pre-mcu, the spideypool fandom felt like a much nicer place. it just got weird when the mcu got involved.
spideypool is a very prolific beast. it's travelled the world. and fact is, the american comics really aren't even the best place to get it. go forth. explore!
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plaquerat · 18 hours
Text
The Ministry Tarot
Living my truth and doing Cumulus x OC because if I don't I will die. Thank you to everyone who hyped me up 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
Summary: Cumulus helps the newly ordained deacon set up
(Credit @ghuleh-recs for making the divider)
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Go all the way down the stairs. Turn left. Walk down the hall until you start to hear a low hum in the air. Stop when you see a stained glass window that you could swear is built into the mountain itself. Turn to the door opposite it. Here you will find the Satanic Ministry’s resident oracle.
“Here?”
“Mmm… higher.”
“Here?”
“A little more to the right…”
“...Here, sweetheart?”
“P-perfect. It's- it's a good spot. Th-thank you, Cumulus.”
Newly ordained, Deacon Virgil was very happy to have help setting their new office up. They couldn't carry very much, and they were scared of standing on anything that wasn't the floor— it was amazing that they were okay not being on the ground floor, given the stairs. Plenty of ghouls were available to help them. They had insisted on it, in fact.
It was just that they had anticipated their older brother, not one of the ghoulettes. Instead of a lanky, rat-like quintessence ghoul, they had been met with an air ghoulette, just barely taller than them, and definitely far more blue and bovine. Cumulus.
At least she wasn't afraid of step ladders.
She had been very helpful so far, and sweet to Virgil, too. Not that they weren't wary. They tended to stick close to their family. Everyone else was nice enough, but they could never tell if it was genuine or because their family ran the place.
It wasn't like they could promote anyone…
They were pulled out of their thoughts by a gentle nudge. They startled a bit, turning to the source.
“You okay, hon?” Cumulus's voice came so sweetly. “You're gettin’ a bit spacey.” Her ears twitched, her expression a bit hard to read with her bangs covering her eyes.
“Oh, uh… y-yeah…” Virgil shook their head, trying not to get too lost in thought again. “Sorry. It runs in my… my, um, family.” They chuckled quietly, a nervous punctuation.
“Oh, bless your heart,” Cumulus chuckled, more genuinely amused than the deacon. “You get it from your daddy?” The ghoulette hopped up on the empty desk behind her, crossing one leg over the other.
Virgil made a noise comparable to a creaking door, trying to not look at the way her thighs squished together. “Uh-huh.” They focused on some spot on the wall. Glow-in-the-dark stars would do wonders for this room. Or look terrible.
“My, uh…” They cleared their throat. “My brother, uh, he gets like this too, so probably. Yeah. From my dad.” They nodded again, wondering how well someone with bangs over her eyes could see them glancing at her thighs. “You know that, I think. He's in the band with you.”
Cumulus shifted a bit, leaning back as her tail thumped against the front of the desk. “In the…? Oh!” She gasped in realization, the bell on her neck making a pleasant clunk at the movement. “You're Phantom's little sibling?” She giggled as Virgil nodded. “He's always talkin’ about you. You know, last week he told us—”
“Hey, actually!” Virgil moved almost robotically, grabbing her clawed hand and tugging her into standing up. “I think there's some things we still need to unpack.” They pulled her over to the remaining box by the door. “Let's do that. I'll, uh, I'll read your fortune after. And not talk about whatever Phantom said. Ever.”
“Aw, sweetiepie…” Cumulus spoke softly as she gently closed her hands around Virgil's own. “He doesn't mean anything bad. He just talks about you ‘cause he loves you.”
Virgil's cheeks heated up at the touch of her hands on theirs. “I know, he just… When people talk about family, it's s-so…”
Cumulus shook her head. “He's too nice for that, you know it.” She removed her right hand from on top of theirs, and moved it up to push her bangs up.
Virgil's heart jolted at the sight of her eyes. Four gorgeous blue irises on pitch black sclerae, like sapphires set on inky black velvet.
If they weren't already attracted to the ghoulette, they certainly would be now.
Cumulus smiled softly at them, her long eyelashes serving to make the look even sweeter. “He always makes you sound so cute, honeybear. You should at least know that.”
Virgil felt like their brain just exploded. Their hands shook as they grasped the one still touching them. “I'm c- you- you think I'm cute?”
Cumulus chuckled, her free hand moving to cup the deacon's rapidly reddening cheek. “I reckon so,” she cooed, her voice like honey. “I've heard all about all the little things you do, your little fungus friends, all that hard work you're always doin’...” Her thumb caressed their face, catching a loose brown curl by their ear and playing with it. “‘N now I have a face to match to that. And, honey?”
“Y-yeah…?” Virgil leaned into her soft touch. Their glasses skewed a bit as the arm stuck between their head and her hand. Somehow they weren't scared of this. Normally they would run from advances, but here, they weren't even fidgeting with their stole. Their attention was undivided.
Cumulus leaned in, her soft lips just barely pecking Virgil's nose. “I like what I see here.”
The next hour passed pleasantly. The office wasn't hard to set up in the first place— a pretty girl liking you was definitely a morale boost, though. Virgil was still nervous talking to Cumulus, but that kiss did seem like an invitation to them, at least for interaction.
By evening, the final crystal had been placed, the final books had been shelved, and chairs had finally been brought in for the tired pair to collapse into.
“Finally…” Virgil sighed. “Thanks for the…” they paused, stretching and stifling a yawn. “The help. I couldn't even try to lift some of that.”
“Any time, baby,” Cumulus responded, leaning on the desk, propping herself up on her elbows. “I do love helpin’ the new clergy members.” She giggled. “I'm sure you didn't forget your promise, did you?”
Virgil huffed, not quite a chuckle. “Alright, alright, let me get the cards out.” The top drawer slid open. Cumulus sat up as she watched a worn box get set down, and open to reveal a deck decorated with eyes and stars.
“I'll read your fortune.” Virgil shuffled their deck, their usually clumsy hands moving with dexterity at their current task. “Let me guess— love?”
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rottngdeer · 24 hours
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Hiii 💗 i also have an NBC Hannibal request, if that's okay
Uhh so maybe an imagine where the reader has been sa'd before in her previous relationship so she's kind of hesitant to go further with Hannibal when they start dating. One night while making out, Hannibal maybe steps a little out of line and that puts reader into an anxiety attack. But he calms her down and reassures that he will always prioritize her safety and consent and that he loves her 🥹
Pairings || Hannibal Lecter x Female!Reader
Contents/Warnings || Anxiety attack, some details and mentions of SA
Gif found on pinterest from the user sydney14well
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You had only been dating Hannibal for a few months now, and everything had been wonderful. He was such a gentleman, and understanding about your boundaries and past, especially your past experiences with sexual assault. Your previous boyfriend was terrible to you, abusive and manipulative. He overstepped every boundary you had, often forcing you past your comfort zones and making you do things you never wanted to do, and pushing you into sexual acts that were only pleasurable for him. The breakup was long and drawn out thanks to him, and it only made you feel worse mentally.
The whole relationship put you off of dating for two years until you met Hannibal, and things just felt right with him. You were grateful to have Hannibal as your boyfriend, and in your life at all, but despite his kindness and respect towards you, you were still hesitant to go further than kissing him. He was careful and diligent with not making you uncomfortable, wanting you to enjoy every moment with him without being reminded of your past relationship.
About six months into dating, you found yourself in Hannibal’s house, having a dinner date with an array of food that Hannibal had prepared for the two of you. It was a calm night filled with good conversation, good food, good wine, good everything. You both made the decision that you would stay the night with him, not wanting you to drive with any alcohol in your system. It wasn’t uncommon for you to spend the night once in a while, being able to comfortably sleep beside him without anything handsy happening.
The two of you eventually ended up sitting on the edge of his bed, a heated make-out taking place. The amount of wine you had was making you a little more relaxed than usual while doing this, up until you felt Hannibal’s hand. It rested on your knee for a moment before you felt it slowly slide up your thigh. Hannibal had only ever touched your face and shoulders, never venturing lower than that. Your fight or flight kicked in, and you quickly shoved his hand away, jumping back a bit on the bed and almost falling off.
Hannibal stopped immediately, “Y/N..” He began, but he was cut off seeing tears begin to fall down your face. You sat against the headboard while covering your face with your hands, remembering everything your ex had ever done to you. Hannibal stayed calm, whispering that he was apologetic about what he had done, and telling you to breathe and asking if you needed him to do anything for you to help. He didn’t touch you, giving you space on the bed for you to calm down.
As you calmed, sniffling and breathing heavily, Hannibal spoke up, “It won’t happen again, Y/N, I promise. Your comfortability is my top priority, I just got a little carried away,” His voice was soft and loving. “Tell me what I can do for you.”
You let out a long sigh, finally being able to breathe normally again, “I’m okay, it just made me… remember some things,” You rub your face tiredly, “I’m sorry I freaked out like that…”
Hannibal shakes his head, “Don’t apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong,” He assures you, “Would you like me to run you a bath to relax?”
“Yes, thank you..” You watch as he rises from the bed, standing in front of you for a moment, “We don’t have to do anything, ever, if you aren’t comfortable with it. And I will always respect whatever you choose,” He says, giving you a comforting smile before disappearing into the bathroom.
You watch him go, wondering how you ended up with such a caring man after such a terrible one.
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