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bkgml · 1 year
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phone calls with kats !!
you’re rudely awaken by your phone going off like it’s nobody’s business.
“ugh.. fuck off.” you groan, hand tapping at your nightstand in search of your phone.
once you finally grab hold of it your eyes scrunch up from the blinding light of the screen.
you whine lightly, eyes adjusting and clicking the green ‘answer call’ button.
“hello?” you croak out.
“…hey.” you hear from the other line.
you jolt up from bed.
“katsuki?! why are you calling? did something happen? are you okay?!” your mind races a mile a minute. he wouldn’t call you at this hour unless it was important.
“i’m fine, sweets. ‘m sorry for making you worry.” he says quietly.
you pause.
“why’re you calling me kats, did something happen?” you say, now calmed from your previous panic.
you hear a sigh from the other line. it sounds tense and tight in his throat, almost painful.
you let the words come to him, knowing forming words to match his emotions isn’t one of his strong suits, yet.
“just missing you.” he sighs again, to stop tears from forming in his eyes (but he won’t tell you that part).
“i miss you too, suki. you just gotta keep working, yeah? this missions important.” you soothe.
“uh huh.” he says, voice cracking ever so slightly.
“i love you. my big strong man protecting everyone. makes me wanna give you a big kiss as thank you when you come back to me.”
“yeah? you think i’m the strongest, huh? city would be nothin without your man, right?” you hear his grin through his response.
“oh the way to a man’s heart, his ego.” you laugh lightly.
he stays silent while listening to your laugh fizzle out.
stays silent while he listens to your breathing.
stays silent as he listens to you laying back down into the comfort of your bed.
“wish i was there with my sweet girl though.”
you smile lightly, trying to keep him motivated.
“i know, baby, but it’ll feel better after catching your bad guys, more rewarding.”
he goes quiet once more as he thinks.
“i guess you’re right.” he admits begrudgingly.
“i am.” you smile.
he hears you yawn.
“i shouldn’t have woke you.” he frowns.
“i have the day off tomorrow, and even if i didn’t i’d be happy you called, i’ve been missing you too.”
“yeah?” he replies, sounding more longful than he hoped.
“course, kats. love you more than anythin. i should let you sleep though.” you say.
“wait.” he says, urgently.
you do and he sighs.
“can you stay on the phone until i fall asleep?” he grumbles.
“uh huh!” you smile.
“do you wanna facetime so i can see that handsome face?”
he doesn’t reply but you get a request to switch the call to facetime pop up on your screen.
“hi, pretty boy.” you smile.
you watch his brows furrow slightly, faking disgust.
“don’t call me that shit.” he frowns.
“shh. you’re supposed to be going to sleep.”
his frown deepens and he sighs before closing his eyes.
“only a week more. you’re gonna spend your days kicking ass and taking names kats.” you smile as you ramble on quietly.
“my man is going to protect the whole country. all my friends at work are going to be soooo jealous.”
you see him smile slightly, keeping his eyes still closed.
“and then when you’re done doing the job you love you’re going to get on a plane and come see me and all your friends. i might give you a big welcome back party with your friends from high school and your parents.”
you see him frown lightly and you can tell he’s trying his best to listen to you but he’s drifting off so fast.
“but i don’t know, i might have to be selfish and keep you all to myself your first night back. maybe i’ll cook you a nice dinner, your favourite. i could make it extra spicy just for you. or we could order takeout and cuddle up close on the couch while we watch a movie you make fun of the whole time, even though i know you’re enjoying yourself.”
you see his consciousness fade away as you ramble on about all the things you’ll do together when he gets back.
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ellemj · 4 months
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Time & Temptation - Roommates w/ Benefits Pt. 2
Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Please read part 1 first if you haven't!
Summary: Living with Bucky Barnes just keeps getting more difficult, and it's been less than 24 hours. Now, he's unexpectedly sent out as backup on what was supposed to be your solo mission. What happens when you insist on putting yourself in danger, as you always do?
Warnings: profanity, mention of wet dream from part 1, teasing, strip club, mention of weapons (firearms), use of firearms, drive-by shooting, gunshot wound, jealous!Bucky, protective!Bucky, some use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 4.9k
A/N: I'm sorry for the long pause since posting part 1 of this series! I got caught up with life and had a lack of inspiration for writing this, but I found some motivation/inspiration the last two days so here it is, finally. I'll be better about pushing out the next few parts of this in a more timely manner. If you'd like to be added to the taglist you can add yourself using this Google doc. Please use it responsibly.
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        You really thought an early morning run was going to clear your mind. You thought you could drown the details of the wet dream in sweat and pain and never think about it again. So, you were especially pissed off when the make-believe sound of Bucky making you ask for what you want began replaying in your mind with every step that you took down the chilly trails. Tell me what you need. As you continue along the dirt path, you can almost feel his hands on your thighs. Fuck. You know it means nothing. It was just a stupid dream. It probably only came about because you ran into him in the kitchen last night. If you’d run into a big, purple, infinity stone-wielding cretin in the kitchen you would’ve been just as likely to have a wet dream about that, right? Well, maybe not. But you can tell yourself that in hopes that it’ll ease your internal rage over having a wet dream about your new roommate.
         An hour later, you’re catching your breath in the elevator on the way back up to your floor. You tug your hair out of its snug ponytail and run your hands through it, massaging your scalp with your fingertips. You’re planning to take a nice, long shower, lock yourself in your room and do a little prep for the solo mission you have later tonight, and then meet up with Sharon for lunch. You repeat the plan in your head over and over as the elevator slowly carries you upward. It seems like a solid enough plan to help you avoid Bucky for at least half the day. Or so you thought.
         You’re as quiet as possible when you unlock the front door, unsure if Bucky may still be asleep or if he’s even home at all. Of course, the first thing you see when you step inside is Bucky, shirtless and in the kitchen yet again. He seems to love that little space beside the kitchen sink. The sigh that leaves your lips is a little more audible than you’d intended it to be, and the way Bucky lifts his gaze to your direction and raises an eyebrow at you lets you know that he not only heard it, but he wants to know what it was about. You didn’t mean to blurt the words out, you really didn’t. But the way he stood there both last night and this morning, looking so fucking hot that it makes your head spin and your cheeks feel warm…you just had to speak up.
         “Do you ever wear a shirt?” You ask exasperatedly. You push the door shut behind you and lock the deadbolt with a resounding click. When you look back at Bucky once more, he’s fucking smirking. You’re simultaneously annoyed and turned on, and all you want is a cold shower.
         “About as often as you wear pants.” He retorts. You don’t miss the way his eyes roam over your figure, taking in your slightly disheveled post-run look. He takes a sip from the glass of water in his hand as he wonders how the hell you still look so put together after a run. Your hair is down and somehow looks perfectly windswept, your cheeks and nose have the slightest pink tint to them from both the cold weather outside and the heavy exercise, and your leggings are hugging your legs and ass so tightly that you may as well be wearing nothing at all. His gaze makes you feel like your skin is on fire and it sets off alarm bells in your head. You need to get out of here. You make a beeline for the fridge, pulling it open and retrieving a cold bottle of water before quickly exiting the kitchen again, refusing to give Bucky a second look. Once you’re in the bathroom, you waste no time stepping into a cold shower as fast as possible.
         Bucky remains in the kitchen for another minute, almost laughing at his current living situation. The man has had only the most minimal associations with women outside of a professional setting for years now, and he sure as hell doesn’t remember any pleasurable interactions with women during his time as the Winter Soldier. Now, he lives with one. And not even just that, but he’s fucking attracted to the one he lives with. He created his own personal hell by suggesting you and Vision switch rooms, and now he has to deal with it. He tries to tell himself that you’re just physically attractive. He’d never like you on all of the levels needed for a relationship. He can’t stand the way you work in the field, you’re too unpredictable and too willing to put yourself at risk. It’s beyond frustrating. He could never like someone who doesn’t seem to give a damn if they live or die. So, he’ll focus on that. He’ll focus on that one thing until he finds enough things to dislike about you to make his cock start listening to his brain again.
         You shut off your cold shower and quickly towel yourself dry before wrapping the towel snugly around your body. You didn’t last more than three minutes under the icy stream of water, but it definitely did its job. Your stupidly attractive roommate is the last thing on your mind now. Or at least he was until you realize you were so rushed to get away from him in the kitchen a few minutes ago that you forgot to grab a clean change of clothes to put on after your shower. Shit. You’re freezing your ass off so you sure as hell aren’t going to wait around until you hear his bedroom door shut. Without giving it a second thought, you glance in the mirror to make sure that the towel at least covers your ass before pulling the bathroom door open and stepping out into the hall.
         Fucking hell. As Bucky stands in the hallway staring at you, he can’t seem to remember the one thing that he was focusing on to help dissuade his attraction to you. All he can focus on now is the way the skin of your neck looks so smooth and soft, the way your neck transitions seamlessly down to your collarbones, and the way your collarbones draw his eyes further down to your chest. He doesn’t let himself look any further once his eyes land on the cleavage that’s just barely peeking out over the top of the towel. His eyes flit back up to your face and suddenly, you don’t feel like the powerless one here. You’d think you would be feeling like the powerless one, given that you’re standing here in a towel and he’s between you and your bedroom door, but you don’t. You noticed the way he froze when he saw you, the way he couldn’t stop his eyes from tracing the curve of your neck and shoulders, and the way his eyes lingered on your chest a little longer than you would’ve expected. You have the power here. You straighten up a little and take a few slow, small steps closer to Bucky. He’s frozen right in between your two bedroom doors, so he’ll have to move out of your way or you’ll have to squeeze past him to get into your room. You’re sure he’ll move. You can feel your towel riding up your thighs and nearly exposing the curve of your ass with every step you take, but you fight the urge to tug it down, worried that the action would make you look insecure. Bucky stands firm in front of you, the eye contact between you two so intense that you wonder if he can see straight through you. God, you see why Sam calls him the bionic staring machine sometimes.
         Just as you expected, Bucky turns and walks up to his own bedroom door once you’re just a foot in front of him. What you didn’t expect was for him to say something to you as you wrapped your hand around your own bedroom door handle.
         “That’s twice now that you’ve tried showing me your ass in the past twenty-four hours.” His tone is calm and even but his words are taunting. You turn on your heel to see him standing in his doorway, facing you, and his blue eyes meeting yours instantly. You’re acutely aware of how short your towel is as it barely covers the curve of your ass, leaving little to the imagination. Apparently, Bucky’s well aware of it too.
         “If you were nicer to me, you might’ve made it to three times, James.” You tease, pushing your bedroom door open and walking through it, refusing to look over your shoulder at him. It’s safe to assume he stole one last look at your towel-clad form before you shut your bedroom door and left him standing there with his cock as hard as it’s ever been.
---
         Ah, fuck. Bucky rests his flesh arm on the inner wall of the shower and his forehead on his forearm, watching the water run into the shower drain at his feet. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees you in that damn towel. Every time you took a breath, your chest would pull the towel up your thighs in the slightest bit. It was practically torture standing in front of you when you looked like that. He shakes his head and turns his chin up with closed eyes, letting the warm water splash into his face, trying but failing to wash the image of you away. He clenches his jaw and looks back down at his cock. Fully erect, and from what? Nothing. You barely did a damn thing. You just happened to be walking down the hallway in a towel, surely not even intentionally. You just forgot your clothes. But shit, the view from where Bucky stood is forever ingrained in his memory. The view and the way you said his first name like you liked the sound of it. He’d never heard you say his first name before. Hell, he liked the sound of it. But your fucking teasing? He didn’t like the sound of that. The way you insinuated, jokingly of course, that you would’ve continued finding ways to nearly show him your ass if he was nicer to you? Bullshit. This is all bullshit. Bucky desperately needs either a new place to live or a fan-fucking-tastic new method of letting off steam, before he says or does something stupid.
         He wills himself to ignore his cock in the shower, and once he gets out and towels dry, he pulls on a clean pair of boxers and sweats. He utilizes the ages-old trick of tucking his boner beneath the waistband of his boxers so it won’t be as obvious when he inevitably runs into you again in the tiny apartment that you share. This time, he’s also sure to put on a t-shirt. Maybe him being fully clothed will inspire you to start wearing some pants. As he pulls the bathroom door open and heads straight for his bedroom, he thinks that maybe he should head out for the day, get away from here before he runs into you again and you have the chance to call him by his first name or nearly show him your ass for a third time.
         You’re sitting on your bed, scanning dutifully over a few electronic files that Fury sent you regarding tonight’s solo op, when you hear Bucky finish up in the shower and quickly shut himself up in his room. Your mind starts to drift away from the task at hand as you replay his words from earlier in your head. That’s twice now that you’ve tried showing me your ass in the past twenty-four hours. Of course the little shit was keeping count. And the best response you could come up with was a tease. You scrunch your eyes shut and shake your head, attempting to clear your mind so you can focus on the mission details before you. This is not the time to be getting distracted. Tonight’s op is serious, and you’re going in with only two backup agents strategically placed in the club’s staff, so you need to be as prepared as possible and as on your game as you’ve ever been.
---
         A not-so-innocent little black lingerie set adorns your figure, hugging your body in all of the right ways and accentuating all of your best features. You give yourself one last look in the tall mirror in your bedroom, making sure everything looks perfect, before pulling on a pair of black jeans, a black sweater, and then a black leather jacket over the top. You pull on a pair of sneakers before double-checking that your bag for the night is packed and ready. It holds a pair of black ankle-strap heels, body glitter, your most complimented perfume, your makeup bag, and a couple of choice weapons tucked away from prying eyes. You have everything you need to gain the attention of one particularly nasty underground vibranium dealer, Elias Leveaux.
         In less than an hour, you’re downtown at the most high-end strip club in northern New York. It’s known for wealthy clientele, and it’s on SHIELD’s radar specifically because Elias is known to drop in at least once or twice a month. You’ve read enough about the guy to wonder why someone with so much money and such an illegal, secretive day job would choose to go to a strip club that’s more or less open to the public. You’d think he’d hire a few girls privately and enjoy his free time that way, but it’s like he gets off on the experience of being the richest, scariest guy in the place. So he goes, at least once a month, always sometime during the second week of the month, like clockwork.
         The last thing you expected to see when you walk in the back staff entrance of the club is a text from Fury, letting you know that the plan for tonight has changed. It’s nonspecific and gives you absolutely no clue as to what might’ve changed, but you don’t have time to text him back and ask for clarification before you’re being directed to the dressing room and told that you’re supposed to be on the floor in less than five minutes. What the hell is Fury thinking?
         Bucky initially thought that being called out for a last-minute op was a blessing. He thought it was exactly what he needed to get out of the apartment for a few hours and get his mind off of you. At least until he found out that the entire op centered around you. He breathes a heavy sigh as he stands outside the club, adjusting his black gloves and glancing at his watch impatiently. Sam is never late. Walker, however, doesn’t know how to be anything but late. Of course, Sam wasn’t going to be the one to wait around outside for Walker’s arrival, so he’s already in the club, seated somewhere at a table near the back wall to keep an eye on things. As Bucky continues to wait in the cold, he begins to wonder what kind of role you’re playing here tonight. Are you a cocktail waitress? A bartender? Fury didn’t give him much information when he called earlier, he simply said that the possibility of something going sideways tonight had escalated enough that he wanted extra hands on deck. Specifically, the undercover hands of the new Captain America, a super soldier, and America’s most hated: John Walker. 
         “I’ve got eyes on Leveaux, he came in through the private entrance on the west side of the building.” Sam’s voice reaches Bucky through his in-ear monitor, right as Walker is approaching.
         “Sorry I’m late. Fury really doesn’t like to give us a heads up, does he?” Walker asks, clapping Bucky on the shoulder in greeting. Bucky shoots him a death glare and Walker quickly drops his smile and hand, remembering who he’s talking to. This is going to be a long fucking night.
---
         When the lights go off and the crowd in the club gets quieter than it’s been for the last forty-five minutes, Bucky follows the turning of everyone’s heads to the stage. A few dancers have come and gone so far, a couple had the crowd going wild for sure, but whatever it is that’s coming next seems to have sucked the breath out of everyone’s chests as they sit on the edge of their seats with anticipation. Even Elias Leveaux has waved his henchmen away and he sits at his table close to the stage with all of his focus trained on the dark platform. When the lights on the stage turn on, they have a deep red hue to them. The low notes of a sultry song begin rumbling through the speakers in the club and as soon as the first bit of skin is visible on stage, Bucky’s mouth goes dry and his heart begins slamming against his ribcage.
         Holy fucking shit. It’s you. You’re the girl that has the attention of every single man and woman in the club right now. You’re the girl dressed in the skimpiest little outfit that Bucky has ever seen. Even the bartenders across the room have their eyes on you. Bucky can’t breathe, he can’t move, he can’t think. You make it to centerstage and begin your routine seamlessly, transitioning from a suggestive dance in your heels to an all-out Magic Mike-level move that involves you crawling across the stage, perfectly in time with the music. When your eyes land on Elias, you maintain eye contact with him as you crawl forward, arching your back and flipping your hair over one shoulder. You watch as he adjusts himself in his seat and rests his right hand high up on his thigh, a tell-tale sign that he’s hard as a rock and it’s all because of you. You flash him an innocent smile before continuing your routine and scanning the rest of the club for his henchmen. You count two near the bar, and one near the main entrance. You’re two minutes in and nearly finishing up your routine, dragging your hands down your chest, over the see-through black lace corset that wraps around your ribcage, when your eyes land on the last person you need to be thinking about. Bucky Barnes. He sits at a table in the far back corner. You can’t even drag your gaze away from him long enough to see who else is at his table. Your eyes are locked on his as your skin heats up and the music fades away. He’s too far away for you to notice the way his jaw is clenched or the way a tent is forming in the front of his tactical pants. As soon as you’ve disappeared from the stage, Bucky stealthily adjusts his pants and composes himself before turning to Sam and Walker.
         “What the hell? If this is what she does on all of those solo ops Fury sends her on, sign me up. I’ll be back-up for every single one.” Walker says, clearly not caring to hide his own arousal. Bucky imagines his fist colliding with the side of John’s face and it calms him a little before he speaks up.
         “Say something like that again and watch where it gets you.” Bucky’s tone is like ice, sending a nervous chill through John Walker’s bloodstream and effectively softening the hard-on in his pants. Unfortunately, Bucky’s own hard-on isn’t going away. Sam isn’t paying any attention to the two men on his team, he’s instead focused on Elias Leveaux, who’s waving over one of his henchmen and whispering something to him. Bucky follows Sam’s line of sight and sees the same thing. The henchman quickly disappears backstage, going through a door labeled “staff-only.” This is either going to be exactly what you and Fury planned for or something that’s going to end badly, there’s really no in between. Your goal was to have Leveaux ask for a private dance, or at least approach you and make contact in some way. You need an in with him.
         You’re just stepping into the dressing room backstage when a tall man dressed in all black, one that you recognize as an employee of Leveaux that was standing near the bar earlier, approaches you in a surprisingly professional manner. He keeps is eyes on your face, even though you’re still wearing an outfit that bares nearly your entire body for everyone to see.
         “Miss, my employer would like a moment with you in private.” The man’s voice is low, and he keeps his tone hushed so the other girls in the dressing room can’t fully make out his words.
         “Your employer?” You ask, easily playing dumb.
         “Mr. Leveaux. He’s in attendance tonight and would like a moment of your time, if you’re free to meet with him now.” You pretend like you’re mulling over his words as you examine your makeup in the mirror.
         “Should I change clothes?” You inquire, meeting the man’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror. He gives you a small smile and shakes his head.
         “I don’t think that will be necessary.” His answer gives you plenty of information. Elias Leveaux is interested.
         Ten minutes later, you’re in one of the private rooms upstairs with the most ruthless vibranium dealer sitting on a couch in front of you. You’ve just walked in and already, his gaze is ravaging your body. He’s basically removing every little piece of your lingerie ensemble with his eyes alone.
         “Mr. Leveaux…” His name leaving your lips brings his gaze up to your face. You study him for a moment. It’s the first time you’ve seen him outside of surveillance pictures in SHIELD files. He’s characteristically attractive, with a chiseled jawline and perfectly manicured stubble decorating it. His hair is black, so black that it matches the tattoos you can see peeking out from the collar of his button-up shirt. Your job is always easier when the bad guys are hot as fuck. “What can I do for you tonight?” You ask, an air of confidence surrounding you as you play with your hair and lean against the wall across from him.
         “Come closer.” He says, cocking his head and spreading his legs slightly on the couch. He oozes confidence and masculinity, in a way that nearly makes you blush. You obey his command, and as soon as you’re within his reach, he grasps your hand and pulls you down to sit on his knee. “Tell me your name.” You’re learning very quickly that he never ends anything with a question mark.
         “I don’t get your first name?” You ask, letting your left hand rest on his shoulder as his comes to rest on your bare thigh. He studies you in silence for a moment, ghosting his hand back and forth along your thigh as you stare back at him. The dim lights in the room and sultry music playing through the speakers only add to the tension.
         “Come home with me tonight and you get anything you want.”
         You made the decision on a whim. Knowing that Fury not only has an entire surveillance team watching everything that’s happening in the club right now, but that he also has Bucky and whoever is with him on site, you’re not very worried about what might happen. So, this wasn’t part of the original plan, so what? You were supposed to do whatever you needed to do to gain Elias’s attention because you needed an in with him. You needed to become someone he trusted so that you could eventually gain access to his phone. The original plan involved him noticing you tonight, maybe paying for a private dance the next time he sees you at the club, where you’d have the chance to drug him and access his phone to get the names and phone numbers of a few of his contacts. But as soon as he invited you back to his place, you knew that you could knock out the entire possibly months-long op in one night. So, you decided to take the chance. You stand on the curb now, with his long black coat wrapped tightly around your frame since Elias didn’t give you time to go back and put your clothes on over your lingerie. You didn’t want to risk bringing your bag anyway, not with your gun in it. Though you feel naked while not having a firearm within arm’s reach, you imagine this night would take a turn for the worse if he or one of his henchmen went through your bag and found a government-issued one.
         Bucky stands with Sam and Walker inside the club, near the exit, as Sam tries to decide what to do in this moment. Sam sure as hell doesn’t want to let you leave with this guy, but no one has come up with a good way to stop you yet, not without breaking your cover. Everyone knows how stubborn you are, but they also know how good you are at your job. If you’ve decided to go home with Elias Leveaux, it’s unlikely that anyone will be able to stop you, while simultaneously being likely that you’ll successfully finish the mission on your own tonight. However, by leaving with him, you’re going to be taking yourself far away from any backup, from any chance of rescue should anything go awry.
         After a few more seconds listening to Sam and Walker argue about a plan, Bucky sees the glint of a black car pulling up to the curb in the moonlight, and watches with silent rage as Leveaux’s hand dips down dangerously close to your ass before he reaches to open the back door for you. Fuck it.
         “Y/n!” Bucky’s voice reaches your ears so unexpectedly that you freeze. You hope that he knows that your cover name utilizes your real first name, otherwise he just attempted to blow your cover. What a fucking ass. You and Elias turn around at the same time, with Elias taking one look at Bucky and then immediately looking over at you, raising one eyebrow in question.
         “Ex-boyfriend.” You mutter to Elias, thinking on the fly. “Just give me a minute with him, then I’m all yours.” Elias glances back at Bucky one more time before nodding at you and sliding into the back seat of the car. You stalk over to Bucky, doing your best to mask some of your anger, stopping just a few inches in front of him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Barnes?”
         “Keeping you from getting yourself killed. You’re not leaving with him.”
         “You might be a sergeant, but this isn’t the army and I’m not under your umbrella of authority.” You pair the words with a contemptuous stare, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance. Bucky smirks at you and licks his bottom lip before shaking his head slightly.
         “So, what then? You’re going to sleep with him, drug him, steal the info you need, and somehow get out of his house unscathed? With no backup?” Bucky asks. When he puts it like that, you have to admit that your plan does sound a bit foolish. But still, you won’t back down.
         “Yeah, and you’re going to go back into the club and find someone else to take your orders, because it sure as hell isn’t going to be me taking them.” You spit back. You’re waiting for his next retort when his eyes flit away from your face, to the road behind you and a little to the left. He sees something. You’re about to turn your head to follow his gaze when suddenly his hands are on your hips and he’s spinning you around, slamming your back against the brick wall of the club. The long coat that Leveaux gave you earlier falls open just as Bucky presses his body firmly against yours, shielding you from the ricochet of bullets flying around the street.
         You’re holding your breath. Bucky hasn’t felt your chest rise or fall even once in the last three seconds since he slammed you against the wall. He glances down at you and sees your eyes scrunched shut and your cheeks flushed.
         “Breathe.” He whispers gently, his warm breath fanning over your face. You draw in a harsh breath at his reminder, and he feels your chest rise and push against his own. You both turn your head to the side as the dark car speeds off down the street, each of you quickly memorizing the make, model, and license plate number. Within a second after the first car has passed, Leveaux’s own car takes off after it. There goes your villainous one-night stand. “Are you hurt?” Bucky asks, still keeping you pinned against the wall. You shake your head, but feel something warm and wet against your right abdomen. When you look down, you realize it’s not your own blood turning your skin red, but Bucky’s, seeping through his shirt.
He’s been shot.
Next Part
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forever-rogue · 4 months
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My friend, can you believe after all these years I’ve come to finally appreciate Steve as more than a friend?
So I’ve come with a request. A very reluctant friends to lovers w Steve! Maybe Reader has never understood why all the girls love Steve and has always been just a good friend to him until one day. Something just clicks and he’s suddenly seen in a different light all together.
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AN | In which you fall for Steve slowly, and then realize all at once 🥺
Warnings | None
Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 3k
Masterlist | Steve, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“I think I’m going to be single forever,” you sighed as you sat down across from Steve, happy to see that he’d already ordered your favorite coffee. He raised an eyebrow in greeting as you reached over and squeezed his hand.
“Your date went that well?” he grabbed his own coffee and took a long sip as you shrugged.
“He wasn’t the worst,” you rested your cheek in your hand, “until he dropped me off at home and asked me to suck him off before I got out of his car. So, putting it lightly, I won’t be seeing him ever again.”
“I’m sorry, honey,” he gave you a small smile as you just shrugged. If he was being completely honest, he wasn’t that sorry. Sorry that you had to go through that but not sorry that it didn’t work out. He loathed the idea of you going out with anyone else, “you didn’t deserve that.”
“Thanks,” at least you always had Steve. You hoped that one day you would find a man as good as him. He was everything to you, and you hoped he knew that as well, “one day it’ll work out with someone. Until then, I guess I have to keep kissing the frogs.”
He made a small sound and nodded in agreement. It was then that you noticed the girl behind the counter watched the two of you - Steve - with a wistful look on her face. Your lips drew in a thin line as you tried to hide your eye roll. It wasn’t that uncommon; girls often stared at him wherever you went. 
“What?” he nudged your foot under the table and shot you a coy smile, “what’s that look for?”
“Nothing…”
“Liar.”
“Fine,” you leaned in closer so only he could hear you, “that girl behind the counter is practically drooling over you.”
“Oh,” he laughed softly before leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest, “what’s so bad about that, huh? Are you jealous?”
That made you scoff slightly as you waved your hand at him. That was definitely not the word you’d use. He was your best friend after all, “as if. That’s not quite the word I would use. Annoyed? Bemused? Those are more accurate.”
“Very funny,” this time it was his turn to roll his eyes at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, “would you want to do tonight?”
“I dunno,” to be honest, you were still a little down after your disastrous date, “whatever you want to do is fine, Stevie.”
“Nope,” he stood up and reached for your hand. Motioning for you to follow him, “that’s not what I asked - what do you want to do? You know I’m just happy to  spend time with you.”
“Well that’s just the thing, Harrington,” you slipped your hand into his, “I’m just happy to spend time with you.”
And you meant it. Everything was a million times better with him. 
“Yeah,” he smiled softly at you, making your heart almost melt, “I’ll pick tonight then and you pick next time. Deal?”
“Deal!”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The two of you were taking a walk around the park to kill some before your dinner reservations, hot chocolates in hand. Steve had surprised you with it since you’d been whining about how much you wanted before meeting up. You were reminded again just how amazing and wonderful your best friend was. 
“It’s pretty out,” you mused as you lightly kicked a big pile of golden and orange leaves. It was almost winter, and you were taking advantage of the weather before it got too cold to do anything for a few months.
“It is,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at any of the nature surrounding you. He was looking right at you, “it really is.”
Before you could say anything else, you heard a small scream coming from near the playground. The two of you looked at each other before rushing towards the sound. When you reached the jungle gym, you found a young girl sitting at the bottom of the slide, crying as she held her leg. 
You looked around but didn’t see any adults nearby. Steve didn’t waste a moment before handing you his cup and going over to the small girl. A couple of other kids were still running around and playing, but a few stopped to watch him.
“Hey sweetheart,” he dropped to his knees so he was on her level, his voice soft and gentle, “what happened?”
“I fell off the slide and hurt my leg,” she looked at him with big, wide eyes, cheeks wet with tears, “it hurts really bad.”
“Can I take a look at it?” your heart melted at how gentle and tender he was. Steve just had such a way with everyone - but kids especially. It definitely made you feel some kind of way. The girl nodded immediately, her dark curls bobbing as he looked at her leg. He made a few sounds before reaching up and wiping away some of her tears, “the good news is that I think you’ll be just fine. The even better news is that you’re super brave for how well you handled this.”
“Promise?” she asked and Steve held out his pinkie to her. 
“Pinky promise,” he grinned as she laughed softly at him, “did you come here with your parents?”
“Yeah,” she looked around, “they were going for a walk and said they’d be back soon. I was just playing with the other kids.”
“Maybe we should go and find them, huh?” he ruffled her hair and she nodded, slowly attempting to stand up. Steve held up his hand in order to help steady her and she gladly took it, “what’s your name?”
“Lucy,” she reached for his hand and started to slowly walk. Her knee was skinned, as it often happened with kids, but otherwise she was unscathed. She paused and looked up at her savior, “what’s your name?”
“Steve,” he told her and she looked over at you. Steve followed her gaze and smiled at you before offering her your name. Lucy grinned and waved her small hand eagerly at you. 
“Is she your girlfriend?” she loudly whispered to him, making you laugh softly as you pretended not to hear, “she’s really pretty.”
“She’s my best friend,” there was something about the way he said it that made your heart feel a little bit of a pang. It just didn’t sound quite…right. But you weren’t going to question that just yet, “she’s really nice too. C’mon kiddo, let’s go and find your parents.”
“Okay,” Lucy started to pull his hand and marched in the direction of where her parents would be. Steve followed diligently behind her, shooting you a wink as you trailed after the two of them. Yeah… this was definitely making you feel something. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Over the next couple of weeks it was like something had shifted in the way you viewed Steve. Not that you’d ever had anything but love for him, but it was starting to feel a little…different. It felt like you were seeing him in this new, honeyed golden light. 
It was like you were noticing so many things about him for the first time, despite the fact that he hadn’t changed a single thing about himself. You noticed how he always held the door open for others, how he helped anyone that needed, when he’d let people in line go in front of him, when he’d pay for someone else’s coffee just to make their day. The way that people, especially women, always looked at him in wonder, suddenly made sense. He was just…everything. And you’d been so oblivious the whole time. 
“What’s wrong?” You were at the grocery store with Steve, but you’d stopped mid aisle when you saw him helping some with getting a few things off a high shelf. He turned back to you and gently tugged on your sleeve, “are you okay? You’re being weird.”
“You’re being weird,” your face was practically burning at having been caught daydreaming about your best friend. He snorted in amusement, “sorry, just thinking.”
“Must be something important,” he gently tugged you along, back over to the car, “if it’s got you so distracted.”
“It’s…” you. But you weren’t about to admit that just that so randomly in the middle of the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon. Maybe you’d never admit it. You weren’t completely sure yet, “nothing. It’s…nothing at all.”
“You sure?” he looked concerned for a moment, giving your hand a small squeeze. 
“Positive,” you really liked the feeling of his hand in yours. You’d never noticed just how much, “just been feeling a little…off lately I think.”
He tutted softly, stopping to look at you fully. He reached up and took your face in his hands, looking to make sure there wasn’t anything he’d missed. Steve gently turned your head from side to side and hummed softly, “just as I thought.”
“What?” your lips pulled into a pout as you wondered what he could possibly say, “Steve.”
“You’re a horrible liar,” he concluded as you scoffed, reluctantly pulling his hands away from your face. He was getting too close to unnerving you and making you spill your guts out. You weren’t ready to. Ugh. He laughed softly before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you for a hug, “but I love you regardless.”
Part of you was convinced that he knew exactly what was going on in your mind and he was doing this to torture you, “love you too.”
This was going to be a whole situation. You just knew it.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Tonight was the night you were finally getting to see the movie you’d been thinking about for months. You weren’t sure if Steve actually wanted to see it, but he was a good sport for being willing to go with you. In true Steve fashion, he’d even paid for the tickets and all the snacks you’d both wanted. 
“I’ll get all this stuff if you can grab the popcorn,” he took the stuff without even waiting for an answer. He shot you a quick wink, “thanks.”
You smiled at him, watching as the cashier watched him go as she got your bag of popcorn together. He really did women longing after him left and right; you could understand why. He was good looking and an almost golden retriever of a human being. 
“Your boyfriend is very sweet,” the woman had a big smile on her face as you raised an eyebrow in confusion. What boyfriend was she talking about? You looked around to see if there was anyone else remaining in the theater lobby. The only person you spotted was Steve.
“I don’t…”
“And so handsome too,” her voice sounded almost dreamy as she looked between the two of you. You made a small sound before taking the bag of popcorn that she slid across the counter and slowly made your way back to Steve. 
“Everything alright?” he asked softly as the two of you started to walk towards the designated theater, “you look…worried.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” you promised with a stiff smile as he opened the door and ushered you in. You were surprised he managed it all considering his arms were full of drinks and snacks and you were only carrying the popcorn, “thanks, Stevie.”
He hummed in content as you picked out a pair of seats away from others near the top. You settled in and made yourself comfortable, finding yourself leaning into Steve’s warm body. He smiled as he put his arm around you, causing goosebumps to raise on your skin. 
You’d been wanting to see this movie since you’d heard about it months ago. You’d even picked out the perfect evening to go, when the theater wouldn’t be too crowded and you could enjoy the experience. But…you couldn’t focus on it at all; your mind kept drifting back to Steve. There was something in the way that lady had spoken about him that got to you. 
Steve who had always been there for you. Steve that had been your best friend since the day he met you almost five years ago. Steve that would do - and has done - anything for you. 
And that’s when it hit you. He wasn’t just your best friend, he was your everything. When you put the pieces together it made sense why people often thought you were together. Now you just had to figure out what to do with your revelation. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You hadn’t taken much of the movie in and Steve had noticed. Though it wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that you were distracted when you weren’t responding to a single comment or question from Steve. 
The two of you walked back to his car in relative silence, a small distance that felt far too great between your bodies. Before you could open the passenger side door, Steve leaned against it and softly shook his head, “what’s going on? Are you sure you’re-”
“I’m in love with you.”
Well. That hadn’t entirely gone to plan. Not that you were sure you even had a plan. It just short of…happened. 
“What?” he laughed nervously, raking a hand through his hair. He was pretty sure that he’d heard you correctly, but also didn’t want to flatter himself. Not yet anyway. 
“I…I think I just realized during the movie,” your entire face felt way too hot, especially with the cool winter breeze that was surrounding you, “and it just…caught me off guard.”
“Off guard?”
“I…I think I’ve always known I just never…realized,” you whispered, turning your face down towards the ground, studying the laces of his sneakers. Steve wasn’t quite sure how you felt about the revelation, “but now I know. I’m sorry.”
“W-what? Why are you sorry?” you looked up at him, his big brown eyes all soft. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, unsure if he was serious or not. 
“Because. I think I’ve just ruined our entire friendship,” you threw your hands up in exasperation, “because it’s going to be weird now that I know I’m in love with you and you don’t feel the same way.”
“Whoa,” he reached for your hands and gently wrapped his long, slender fingers around your wrists, “who said I didn’t feel the same?”
“But you don’t…I,” you stopped for a moment and thought about it. Oh. Oh. Steve beamed as he watched you come to yet another huge realization, “you love me?”
“Duh,” he teased in that gentle tone you loved so much, “took you way too long to catch up.”
“How long?” how long had you been blind?
“About five years.”
“But we met…five years ago.”
“I know,” this time he flashed you a shy smile as your expression softened. He’d been there this entire time but you had been so blind to him. Everything you’d been searching for and wanting had always been, quite literally, right in front of your face. 
“Steve,” you looked down at your hands, were still safely and warmly developed in his, “Steve.”
He brought one of your hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. You warmed at the touch and it took everything in your power not to jump on him then and there and kiss him silly. He must have been thinking the same thing, “I’ve waited a long time to ask you this, but umm, can I kiss you?”
“Yeah,” you knew that, deep down, you’d been wanting him to ask for so long, “yes.”
He took your face gently in his hands, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he studied you intently. It was almost ridiculous just how far gone he was for you, “you’re so beautiful.”
Before you could argue with him, and he knew you well enough to know that you would, he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, testing the waters to see what it was like for both of you. You couldn’t help but lean into him, sighing softly at his touch. That seemed to be all he needed in order to deepen the kiss, and you wrapped your arms around him. 
Neither of you wanted to break apart and only broke apart very reluctantly when you were desperate for a breath of air. The two of you exchanged shy, but happy smiles before laughing. You opened and closed your mouth, trying to find the right words but there didn’t appear to be quite anything to properly convey everything you were feeling. You touched his face, ghosting your fingers along his freckles. He put his hand on top of yours and squeezed gently, “I know.”
“Oh,” you looked up and a few drops fell on your cheeks, “let’s get out of here.”
“Want me to take you home?”
“I want you to come with me,” you whispered, “I don’t want to say good night just yet.”
“Me neither,” he opened the door for you and helped you inside before gently closing the floor and going around to slide into the driver’s seat, “does this mean I can kiss you all the time?”
“Yeah, Stevie,” you grinned at him, “you can kiss me anytime.”
“Good,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “‘cause I’m going to be doing that a lot.”
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mattsenthusiast · 11 days
Text
𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠~ Matt Sturniolo
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Summary: You finally decided to get your first tattoo. But what if your tattoo artist senses your nerves and tries to make you feel better?
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), exhibitionism, hand kink, breath play if you squint, needles, pet names, degrading and praising, Dom!Matt, fingering, oral (female receiving), p in v
Word count: 2k
——————————
I looked into the small mirror one last time to make sure I looked presentable before exiting my car.
Today is the day- I was about to get my first tattoo. I’ve been looking forward to it since I was 13, maybe even younger, and my dreams will finally come true.
My legs were shaking slightly from excitement and nerves as I entered the building and made my way upstairs.
The arrangement of the main room was rather dark. Long curtains were covering huge windows that were spread all the way along one wall, and the black drawings decorating any free space on the walls were a perfect finish to the whole vibe.
My eyes scanned the room for a few more seconds before landing on the main desk- specifically on a person sitting behind it.
The man’s gaze was fixated on the computer screen as his fingers swiftly clicked the keyboard. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt that exposed his slightly toned arms covered in tattoos. His hair was a perfect length, long enough to sit gently on his forehead but short enough to not cover his vision. Dark, circular glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose. The sight alone made my heart skip a beat and I knew that I’ll be fucked until the end of the appointment.
I approached the desk and that’s when he looked up at me with his blue eyes. I swear I could see them wander down my body for a moment before he cleared his throat.
,,Hey, what can I help you with?”
,,Hello, I actually have an appointment for 6:30. I figured I’ll be a few minutes earlier just in case” I offered him a smile which he returned.
,,oh yeah! You must be y/n, nice to meet you. I’m Matt and I’ll be taking care of you today” he straightened his hand into my direction. I shook it and couldn’t get over how soft and big they are ,,why don’t you follow me to my station and we’ll get to work, sounds good?”
Before I could start my answer he already stood up from the chair ,,yup sounds great!” he smiled at me once again and led me to a different room.
His work room was no different than the lobby- dark and fancy looking. The nerves that were rooting inside of me were showing more and more. I started to play with the hem of my skirt and balancing from one leg to another.
,,Okay so you can make yourself comfortable while I pull up the project from my shelf. Where’d you like to get the tattoo again?”
,,Right under my collarbone. It’s cute and minimalistic so I thought it’ll be a good idea you know” I tried to keep the conversation going.
,,I got ya. Do you have any other tattoos or is it your first one?” He asked while preparing the equipment.
,,No, it’s my first one. I’ve always wanted one so now that I’m finally able to I decided to fuck it and come over here. Now that I’m about to get it done I’m scared” I laughed slightly after realizing that I’m rambling from my nerves.
Matt offered me a soft smile and got closer to me. He started to slide the straps of my top and bra to get a better access to my collarbone. His hands were slightly grazing over my skin and the rings he was wearing left a cold feeling over me. A breath got stuck in my throat at his action, but I tried to cover it up with a cough.
,,Alright, I’m just going to put a stencil on your skin so there’s nothing to worry about. Just try not to move to much, alright sweetheart?” He spoke softly while clearing my skin with an antibacterial gel. His voice as smooth as butter. I wonder if his tongue would also be this smooth on my pu-
,,Earth to y/n, are you okay? I asked if you’re ready for me to start tattooing you?”
,,I- yeah you can start please” I looked away from him, my cheeks burning from the image that my mind just put me in.
,,thank you, I’m just gonna get into it, if you need a break just let me know. First tattoos are always scary. Been there, done that”
He put his left hand dangerously close to my boobs. He had to stretch the skin for a better access, but it still made me wet. The veins that ran through his hands were right at my sight now and I couldn’t get enough of looking at them.
That’s when I felt it. The sensation of a needle with ink being stabbed into my skin. To my surprise the pain was not the only thing I could feel. There was also something else, was it a pleasure? I moaned at the two sensations mixing together and my eyes widened.
,,Sh sh shhh, you’re doing so good princess, so good for me” Matt whispered- almost whimpered- the praises to me. I could feel the hand that was just holding my skin crawl down to my thigh, really close to my dripping core since my skirt as ridden up. He started rubbing small circles on my leg and his other hand was tattooing me like nothing was happening. Like the sexual tension and filthy activity and thoughts were absent.
I could help myself though. I kept squirming in my seat and groaning every time he pressed the needle into my skin.
,,I think I should distract you from the tattooing. A good orgasm would do it for you, wouldn’t it baby? Do I need to touch you or can you cum just from the pain? I know you’re enjoying it, you’re just a little slut”
,,I mmmmm, please touch me Matt, please” I whined and looked straight into his eyes.
,,Good girl, asking me so nicely. How can I say no to such a pretty girl” he smirked darkly and his hand started going further under my skirt, finally reaching my dripping core.
,,Really? No underwear? Such a whore, you’re practically begging to be fucked. Now, you’ll let me finish the tattoo for the next 10 minutes and don’t you dare to cum. Understood?”
,,Yes sir” my mind was already going foggy and him slightly rubbing against my pussy, so when he put two of his digits into me and I let out a loud moan, he wasn’t surprised at all.
The 10 minutes felt like hours. Matt kept mindless thrusting his long fingers inside of me while being focused on his work. Not cumming was a real challenge to me considering that a wet dream of a man was sitting in front of me and touching my body.
,,Okay, and you’re all done. Normally I’d give you a mirror to see the tattoo right away but I’m so desperate to make you come so you’ll have to live in a mystery for a bit longer” with that being said he removed his fingers from me and licked them clean.
Before I could even say a word, his face was already pressed to my pussy, eating me out as his nose perfectly bumped into his clit.
I was a moaning mess. My hands made their way to his hair, pulling him deeper into me. He was like a starving man that hasn’t eaten for the past week. As my orgasm was approaching I closed my legs around his head, definitely cutting his access to air. It was so unbelievably hot, especially since his eyes never left mine. It only took him a few more licks before I was squirting all over his face and the chair I was sitting in.
,,SHIT I’m so sorry oh my lord I didn’t mea-“ I was cut off by his lips being pressed to mine, tasting myself off of his tongue.
,,no need to be sorry sweetheart, that was the sexiest thing I have ever seen” he gave me a cheeky wink and pressed his lips to mine once again.
,,I’ve got a deal for you. I get to fuck you right now and you can walk out with a free tattoo and my number. How does that sound hmmm?”
I actually couldn’t believe my ears, but who I was to resist a hot man who wants me? So I wasted no time and started rubbing his bulge through his pants, as a sign that he can do whatever he wants to me.
,,that’s what I wanted to see” he groaned at my action and placed his hands under my shirt. His palms playing with my boobs and twisting my them.
He definitely noticed that it’s my sensitive spot because soon he was taking my shirt off and throwing it across the room, his plump lips attacking my nipples.
The feeling was unbelievable, but I couldn’t help but want more. I took the matter into my own hands and started to unbuckle his pants, taking it off right with his boxers.
,,you’re a needy slut holy shit. If you want to act like this then fine. I’ll fuck you like one”
The next thing I know is that I was turned around and my whole body was pressed into one of the big windows. It was already getting dark and the studio was on the second floor, but it didn’t change the fact that the street was still busy and if someone looks up, they can easily see what’s going on here.
It only thrilled me more though. I swear Matt was making me learn so much about myself tonight.
His hands found their place on my body, one was on my hips when the other one wrapped right around my neck. The hem of his shirt was in between his teeth and his glasses were slightly fogged.
Wasting no time, he pushed his dick into me, stretching my walls to an unbelievable level. I let out a scream, but he paid no mind to this and immediately started thrusting deep inside of me.
,,I know you like it rough so take it like a good girl. Take the pain of my cock drilling into you. What would all of those people think if they saw you right now? They’d probably take you for a slut and they wouldn’t be wrong”
I couldn’t say anything at that point. All of this was too much for me to think straight and all that was on my mind was that I was already close. Matt could feel me clenching around his cock and brought his hand to rub my clit.
His peace never slowed down and before I knew it, I was cumming all over his dick. His thrust didn’t stop after this thought. He kept going and going until he reached his high and came on my back.
We were both panting from exhaustion and bliss. I couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle at the whole situation.
,,So, now that you fucked me senseless, can I get your number that you promised me so we can go one a date?”
The silence was broken by our laughter.
——————————
Tattoo artist Matt has finally made an appearance!!! Next up we have that youtuber dating thingy so bare with me😚
Not proofread sorry!!!
Tag list (lmk if you wanna be on it!!!!): @st7rnioioss
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moonstruckme · 7 months
Note
You’re poly!marauders writings literally soothe my anxiety I love it so much. Could I please request poly!marauders comforting reader the night before a big presentation she’s super anxious for because she hates public speaking. I feel like they’d be so soft and encouraging when they realise how sad and anxious she is about it. You’re the best lovely 💗💖🩷
Thanks sweetheart!
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 957 words
James erupts in applause as you click to the final slide, and Sirius sticks his fingers in his mouth, whistling loudly. 
“Fantastic job!” James gushes, fawning. “Never seen anything like it. Will this presentation be considered for a nobel prize?”
“It ought to be,” Remus agrees, also clapping, albeit more normally. “That was great, dove. They’re gonna love it.” 
“Are you sure?” You look to the screen uncertainty. “The ‘thank you’ slide isn’t too informal?”
“No,” Remus confirms. “I think it’s the perfect way to signal that you’re done.” 
“But did I talk too fast? I do that sometimes.” 
He gives you an odd look. “Did you think you were talking too fast?” 
You shrug, looking at your pajama bottoms like there’s something interesting down there. “I can’t always hear it myself. Maybe I should run it through one more time, and you can let me know?”
“Wait, again?” Sirius sounds slightly alarmed. “This is a very interesting topic, but I think six practice rounds is probably enough. What, are you gonna give us a test or something?” 
You cringe. “Sorry, I don’t mean to keep you captive. I can practice it by myself.” 
You close your laptop, thinking of going to your room, but James says, “Wait, sweetheart, why do you think you need to run through it so many times? It seems like you’ve got it.” 
“I just need it to be, like, muscle memory,” you reply. “A lot of the time, once I get up there, I sort of…it’s almost like I can’t think anymore, and if I don’t know the presentation super well I won’t know what to say.” 
“I don’t think you need to worry as much as you are.” James’ voice has gone soft in that way he does when he wants to be extra kind. “Every time you’ve run through it tonight, it’s been flawless.” 
You scoff. “Yeah, because it’s just you guys.” 
“Oi,” Sirius pipes up, faux indignant. “I’ll have you know we are the most critical audience you’ll ever meet. If you can do it in front of us, those dolts will be no problem.” 
“Yeah, don’t be nervous.” James gives you a smile. “You’re going to do great.” 
“That’s a lot easier said than done,” you sigh. 
Remus pats the arm of his chair, and you abandon your laptop, letting him pull you into his lap. Your boyfriends have the ability to bring emotions you didn’t even know you had straight to the surface, and you feel unexpectedly teary as he kisses your temple. “Would it make you feel better if we came to watch tomorrow?” he asks lightly. 
You give him a small, sad smile. “Thanks, but even if you did, everyone else would still be there. It’d be a pointless trip for you.” 
“Not if you could have a hug afterwards.” He sets his chin atop your head like he’s going to make you a fortress out of his own body. “Or if you just want support in the audience, we don’t mind.” 
“I appreciate it,” you reply, “but I’ll be okay. I just need to get it down so that I don’t mess up.” 
“And what if you do mess up?” Sirius asks, characteristically blunt. “Would it really be the worst thing in the world?”
You blush, and Remus rubs your upper arm comfortingly. “No,” you admit. “It would just be embarrassing. It would kind of ruin my day, to be honest.” 
Sirius nods, looking at you evenly. “But then you get to come home, and it’ll be over. Maybe we can get you a treat or something to have tomorrow evening after you get home. That way you get a reward no matter what.” 
You fidget in Remus’ hold, and you know they’re not going to like what you’re thinking, but you say it anyway. “I won’t deserve a reward if I mess up, though.” 
“That’s not true,” James fires back instantly. “The reward doesn’t have to be only for if you give your presentation without a single hitch. It could just be for trying.” 
You’re quiet, pleading silently for a change in topic. Remus drops another kiss on the side of your head. “You’ve worked hard on this, dovey. It’s really good, and even if everything doesn’t go as planned tomorrow, you still put a lot into it,” he pauses, stooping his head so you’re looking at him. “You deserve to feel good about yourself.” 
You try to shrink, but he won’t let you, trapping you with an immovable arm around your shoulders. Remus is strong when he wants to be. He raises his eyebrows, a tiny smirk playing on his lips, until you smile. 
“Okay, you’re right,” you capitulate, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Thank you guys.” 
“Maybe it’d help if you got the presentation off your mind and just relaxed for the rest of the night,” James suggests. “There’s no point in fixating on it anymore, you’ve done all you can.” 
“Yeah, that sounds good,” you say, and then Sirius is squishing into you and Remus’ chair, sitting half on top of both of you. 
“Our poor baby,” he whines, words muffled against your cheek. “I’m sorry I made fun of your practice, sweetpea. I didn’t know you were so nervous.” 
You laugh as he moves down to your neck. “It’s okay, it’s—quit, that tickles!”
Sirius ignores you, pecking relentlessly up and down your neck as Remus struggles to keep the both of you from falling off the armchair. “You’re going to do so good,” he promises ardently. “You know that, right?”
“She doesn’t even have to know it,” James speaks for you as you gasp for breath between giggles. “We know well enough to make up for her.” 
531 notes · View notes
axigailxo · 3 months
Text
Pretty Like You | PJM (2)
part two: parties and pilates
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series summary. where jimin is jealous of the beauty that is you, writes about it, and falls apart when you accidentally read it.
pairing. feminine!jimin x reader
rating. M | 18+ |
genre. enemies to lovers, feminine!jimin, self hatred au, slight identity crisis, self love journey, smut, sub! jimin, angst, fluff, heartfelt
w.c. 4.8k
warnings. heavy descriptions of self hate and self abuse later into the story, please be advised. mention of “unaliving” in this chapter.
ch summary. where oc convinces jimin to go to a frat party in an attempt to break him out of his shell
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**this is part 2 of my series pretty like you, not a stand-alone
series masterlist | <-previous | next ->
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“And then despite it all, she asked if I wanted to talk, can you believe it?”
It’s been a couple of days since the incident at the art room, and Jimin can’t stop ranting about it like it’s new news. He still hasn’t texted you, and it’s not like he could since he doesn’t even have your number. He could get it from you in class, but thats a little hard when he’s on a streak of skipping.
After you suggested to help him embark on a self love journey, Jimin has been so damn confused. He doesn’t know whether to jump at the opportunity, rot away in embarrassment that you read his journal, or be slightly offended that you’d suggest help when he thinks he’s just fine. Kind of.
All options are tempting, nonetheless.
Daisy, Jimin’s cat that is currently victim to listening about what happened for the hundredth time, lifts up off her soft body and saunters out of his room. What? She’s fed up.
Jimin, who is suffering from her rude and sudden exit, huffs as he debates whether he should follow up about that whole thing with you. Because despite all his options, he’s leaning more towards just avoiding you at all costs and pretending that situation never even happened.
Except he’ll remember. It’ll haunt him and his thoughts every night until he finally just addresses it.
And so that’s why he should go to class today. Maybe. Jimin squints his eyes as he contemplates and considers, ultimately deciding that coffee is the first step that should be taken. Especially since it’s way too early to have a crisis, that can wait for later. Per usual.
Making his way to his Keurig, he pops a peppermint mocha flavored pod into the top compartment followed by a little water in another compartment until he’s clicking a button to brew it.
“So now you like me,” Jimin scoffs as Daisy rubs against his ankle, excited for Jimin to give her breakfast.
Commanding to the manipulation of the feline, Jimin grabs a can of cat food out of a cupboard, internally scolding himself for being nice and buying her the expensive kind again.
Although, Jimin can’t blame Daisy for being fed up with all his predicaments. He would be too. However spilling to Daisy is much more acceptable than telling it all to his human best friend, Taehyung.
Jimin has already thought about the fact that if he spends time with you, whether it be for a self love journey or not, that’d be breaking some sort of bro code with Tae.
You’re Taehyung’s crush, and Jimin respects that. Plus it’s not like Taehyung has to worry, you’re out of Jimin’s league anyway.
However that hard on be got the other night still baffles him. He’s narrowed it down to being that you’re just attractive and he’s just a gross horny man. But not even that sounds right.
Jimin has thought about inviting Taehyung to every outing you may have together, but he can’t. How in hell would he explain to his best friend that the whole reason he’s seeing you is so that he can learn to accept himself and flaunt that feminine side of him? Let alone explain to him that you read his journal full of how much he envies and adores you at the same time. He can’t. More specifically, he won’t. Taehyung doesn’t need to meet that side of him, Jimin thinks. It’s for the better.
Jimin ponders for a second, and he hates himself for pouring his coffee into a travel cup and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He figures since he’s already keeping a secret from Tae, one more shouldn’t hurt. Plus he can’t avoid you forever. There’s really only one thing to do now.
“Eat up Daisy, I’ll be back after class.”
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“Jimin? Hey!”
Standing in line at the campus’s cafe, Jimin washes over in a cold sweat as the loud call of his name attracts the attention of almost everyone near. He came here to get an additional caffeine boost before class and more importantly stall from talking to you, but it’s just his luck that you’d be here too.
“Hi,” he mutters awkwardly, eyes on the ground the second you get closer.
He’s never seen you so up-close before. He wonders if your skin has always looked so smooth.
He wishes his skin were as smooth.
“I was gonna call to ask about your no shows in class but I completely forgot to give you my number the last time we talked.”
Jimin finds this incredibly new and odd. Just a few days ago he hated you without knowing you and now you’re talking to him like a friend. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to.
“Here,” you say as you hand him your phone, a new contact page open and ready for him to fill out. “That way we can talk out of school, plus I found multiple super-helpful self esteem websites that you might li—“
“Y/N,” Jimin halts your enthusiasm. Again, way too early in the morning for this. “Can we not talk about it in such a public place?”
His tone is hushed and embarrassed, trying not to let the several eyes on them to hear that he’s struggling with self esteem. God this is so much more depressing than Jimin initially thought it’d be.
“Of course, yeah no my bad.” You rush your words, retracting your hand down before Jimin grabs the phone from you, typing his number.
“I dont expect you to waste time on me. Just text when you have absolutely nothing else to do. This isn’t important enough to occupy your schedule.”
Immediately, you frown at his words. Sure this is important. And contrary to his request, you already cleared something off of your schedule for him.
“First off, this is important. I won’t have you taking down on yourself anymore.”
Jimin so badly wants to ask why, but he won’t because that’s rude and you don’t deserve anymore rudeness from him. Not after what you read in the art room.
“Secondly, I already cancelled pilates for you. I have something else fun planned for us.”
Jimin can’t help his sudden snicker.
“What?” You ask, slightly offended.
“Nothing, it’s just funny you take pilates. Of course you do.”
You wanted to carry on with being offended, but you felt a pang of accomplishment upon getting him to laugh. Progress, you think.
“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, trailing back out of the cafe. “Laugh all you want but just know that this ass didn’t grow itself!”
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You: u, me, frat party tonight at 9.
Sat on the hard seats of the lecture hall, Jimin’s eyes go wide as he reads your reply to his text.
The second you sauntered out of the cafe, you were quick to text Jimin in hopes to break the tension between you two— which technically isn’t tension at all given Jimin is the only one who finds your new friendship odd. Well him and the rest of the students who saw you two talking together.
Jimin had asked what you had planned, and when you replied with frat party, he felt physically ill.
Jimin: absolutely not. sorry.
You: hear me out, it’s not even a big party
You: it’s very discreet and there’s only gonna be a couple people
Jimin locks eyes with you from across the room and mouths “no” with an adamant shake of his head. You roll your eyes before your thumbs get back to texting him.
You: we can pregame before we go so u can loosen up
You: if you’re with me, there’s nothing to worry about
Jimin wants to be offended. He most definitely does not need you at his rescue. The intent however was a little sweet. God Jimin is reminded exactly why he despised you— you’re perfect.
Jimin: i’ll think about it. that’s not a yes.
He pretends he doesn’t notice the little happy dance you do in your seat, nor the squeal of excitement you let out even though he didn’t give a definite answer.
Jimin starts to smile, but when he looks to his left he sees someone else who’s smiling at you and it vanishes. Taehyung. Completely gawking at you, Jimin fights that weird feeling that suddenly engulfs him. Maybe it’s the fact he’s hiding his new friendship with you from Tae.
Either that or somewhere in his subconscious, he doesn’t like how Tae is smiling at you.
“God dude, isn’t she so cute.” Tae whispers, completely oblivious to why you’re dancing in you’re seat.
Jimin trails his gaze to his lap as a bitter mood takes hold of him.
“Yeah… definitely.”
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Jimin is in a rut.
Even though he’s still not certain about going to that party, finding a potential outfit never hurt anyone. Moments after he got home he was already sucked into his closet by the magnetic pull of all the great clothes he has— even though he knows himself well enough to understand he will end up changing into his “boy clothes” no matter what he ends up choosing.
He slips on a black, oversized distressed sweater. The seams are ripped in just the right places, leaving a fraction of his chest, his belly, and a dash of his waist to be visible beneath the shredded fabric. The back showcases a fair amount of skin as well.
This one, Jimin thinks to himself, isn’t so feminine. It’s doable. Maybe.
He wants to pair it with a skirt but that would only be a waste of time because if he can’t even leave his apartment in a skirt to check the mailbox, he sure as hell will not be wearing it to a frat party of all places.
He grabs a pair of black chinos that he thrifted not so long ago, letting it rest low on his waist. He pulls the look together with black combat boots and a dainty necklace that he tucks beneath the sweater. It makes him feel pretty despite the fact he’s the only one aware it’s on him.
He steps back to absorb the outfit in the mirror, and he feels good. It’s a combination of both masculine and feminine and it’s definitely testing the waters but Jimin knows his night won’t be enjoyable in the least if he wears a baggy hoodie or tee. He likes what he has on, even if the frat boys will give him shit for it. Which they definitely will.
He hears Daisy meow across the room, and upon directed his gaze to her his eyes settle on the makeup bag tucked into the far back corner of his desk.
He’s tempted, he is. But he can’t. He’s not ready yet.
Just as he begins to walk towards his desk, only enticing himself further, a knock on his door is heard and he takes that as a sign from god herself that he should skip the makeup.
With a sigh, he heads to the door.
“Knock… Knock… Knock!”
“Just a minute! For fuck’s sake.”
Irritated at the swat team-like announcement, Jimin swings the door open to reveal none other than Jessica Rabbit?
“You didn’t tell me it was a costume party!” Jimin complains as he steps aside, gesturing you to come in.
Both hands holding a bottle of E&J, you let yourself in and place the bottle on his countertop.
“Oh yeah, it’s a costume party.”
“It’s not even halloween,” Jimin states the obvious as he instinctively heads for two glasses out of his cupboard.
“It’s to make up for last year. There was a big game the day of halloween so none of the guys were in a party mentality.”
Party Mentality?
Jimin can’t believe he’s hearing about frat news from you, who is in his apartment dressed like Jessica Rabbit and is downing a shot straight from the bottle. What has his life come to.
You notice him staring so you apologize as you offer him the bottle to pour.
“Figured we’d pregame like I said. Also we gotta figure out a costume for you. Ooh what about a slutty artist or something.”
Jimin swears you make him lose brain cells. Sliding a now-filled glass toward you, he takes a large gulp of his own.
“Slutty artist?” He thinks out loud. “I’m fine with what I have on.”
Jimin counts down the seconds until you praise his bold sweater choice, but he can feel the alcohol rise back up when you say the opposite.
“In all honestly I thought that was a sleep shirt. We’re putting you in something else.”
You navigate yourself straight to what you assume is him bedroom, and Jimin nearly falls flat on his face chasing after you.
This may be a bit embarrassing for Jimin to admit to himself, but he’s never had a girl in his room before. It’s intimate, he thinks. Having someone inside a room that has witnessed every one of his breakdowns, outfit changes, alone time moments, etcetera. Jimin cringes as memories from the other night come back to him.
“Cute room,” you tell him as you look around, admiring the fairy lights and album covers displayed. Jimin was always big on music. Maybe posters were too far given his age, but he didn’t care. He never thought someone else would ever see them.
Although, Tae has been to Jimin’s place before. He knows about the posters and fairy lights. Though he never once questioned it or even talked about it. Only when he called that one poster of Ariana Grande hot. That’s what Jimin likes about Tae, he never questions him. But it’s not like Jimin gives him much to wonder about. He’s completely masked to the eyes of his best friend.
“This,” you start, dramatic tone and all, “this is gorg.” You hold out his favorite black skirt, and it’s lightening quick how fast he snatches it from you.
“No.” He tells you, cheeks getting hot. He’s embarrassed to say the least. He knows you know about his self esteem issues, but you have yet to discover his fondness for feminine clothing. But you have now.
“What? You’re embarrassed I found a skirt? If it’s socially acceptable for women to wear sweats, then it should be acceptable for men to wear skirts.”
Someone who gets it, Jimin thinks. This is the first time he’s ever felt understood when it comes to this, and he doesn’t quite know what to say.
“But skirt or no skirt, I think it’s important that you feel sexy tonight.”
“And why is that?” Jimin plays along. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed as you continue to look through his wardrobe.
“Because halloween parties exist solely for people to feel sexy all night.”
“It’s not halloween,” Jimin argues again, earning a shirt thrown at his face. Giggling, he holds it out in front of him.
You stand in front of his closet with a look of excitement on your face. His reaction disappoints you, however.
“Y/N, no. I can’t wear this out.”
“Just try it on.”
He knew this was part of your plan to get him to gain a little confidence and even convince him to leave the house in something he feels good in, but Jimin is adamant. He cannot wear this.
It’s a fitted baseball tee, extremely cropped and a shade of pale pink. Jimin cannot leave the house like this, despite how good it makes him feel deep down.
Reluctant and a tad shy, Jimin removes his sweatshirt from his body as he replaces it with what you threw at him. In the short moment he was bare, you might’ve stole a glance at his figure. His body is perfect, you think. Slim waist with faint yet toned abs and a noticeable amount of muscle on his arms. You take another sip of the drink that has yet to leave your hand.
“I look stupid.”
“You look sexy.”
The compliment was unexpected and was more than enough to have Jimin’s eyes widen. He breaks eye contact because how could he not, and he self consciously wraps an arm around his stomach.
More so his lap.
“I don’t know,” he says faintly, mumbling over his speech. “I think it’s a bit much.”
“Change to grey sweats. You can tell people you’re a 60’s athlete, they dressed like this back in the day you know.”
Yeah right, tell a bunch of actual scary frat boy athletes that’s he’s mocking their style from the 60’s.
His brows furrow when you step closer to him, reclining down and reaching for the skirt he had snatched from you. You grab one of his wrists, placing the bunched up material into his hand. His cheeks are on fire, his heartbeat picking up.
“Try it on,” you whisper. “For me.”
And fuck. Jimin is fully erect. He physically cannot bring himself to stand let alone change in front of you. He pushes your hand away, never wanting to disappear so badly.
“Another time. You already got me to wear this tee, baby steps.”
Disappointed, you think he’s right. You can’t beg him to gain confidence to wear an entire outfit like this on the first day of his journey. It takes time, and luck for Jimin you’re very patient.
“Another time,” you repeat softly.
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Jimin has been to a function with very little people before. He knows what a small little get together looks like. This party— it isn’t that.
“You said a couple people!” He shouts over the blairing music as you pull him through the front hall and to the packed kitchen.
He has no clue who’s house this is and he hasn’t seen a single normal person. Everyone is either drunk, high, or the worst: a frat. He shivers in discomfort before you bring a shot glass to his lips.
“Guess word spread and more people came, no biggie.”
He downs the shot of what turns out to be tequila, wincing as he coughs out a reply.
“Huge biggie.” He looks around the crowded house after a bystander drunkenly bumps into him and slurs an incoherent apology.
This was a mistake.
“Y/N, what is the point of me being here? This isn’t making me feel good about myself in the least, this isn’t my environment.”
You take another shot before quickly grabbing a lime and placing it between Jimin’s plump lips, and before he can register what you’re doing, your lips are already on his as you suck from the lime. Nipping the fruit with your teeth you pull it out and drop it into the sink, grin wide as Jimin turns fire hydrant red.
That shouldn’t count as a kiss, but you just sort-of-kissed Jimin. His mouth is dry, heartbeat in his stomach, and he is hyper alert on the way his knees are subtly shaking.
“Ease up Jimin, it’s gonna be a long night.”
He didn’t know it then but that’s the last time he’d be seeing you until the end of the party. He sauntered off to a random couch that was unoccupied for the most part, only some random (and gross) couple having a full blown make out session on the opposite side.
He made sure to keep his cup filled the whole night as that’s the only thing keeping him from walking straight out the door and back into the comfort of anything that’s not this party.
He’s spotted Tae a few times, who is dressed as Jack from the titanic, but Tae hasn’t noticed him yet which is probably because his rather different fashion approach and the fact he’s at a frat party. If anything that should be a reason Tae spots him since he’s the odd one out, Jimin thinks. Then again it is a costume party and no one look normal per-say. Nor is Tae the sharpest tool in the shed.
He also thanks the universe for not letting Tae notice you and Jimin arrive together.
He’s been glancing at you for a while now, the way you sway your hips to the rap song playing on the surround sound speakers. The way your skin is glowing even under the dim, groggy lights of the house. He watches the way smoke exits your mouth as Tae places a blunt between your perfect lips. He looks away when Tae also places a hand on your waist, dancing with you so intimately that it pains Jimin to see.
He knows he’ll be hearing all about this from Tae. You’re his favorite person, he’s probably over the moon about dancing with you right now.
“Jimin?” Speaking of the devil.
Jimin waves awkwardly as Tae whispers something to you and proceeds to walk towards his direction. You go off to dance with a frat guy who’s been waiting all night to have your attention. Jimin finds him pathetic.
“What are you doing here? You never come to these kinds of things.”
The music is loud but that’s nothing compared to how deep and confident Tae’s voice is. Despite Jimin’s desire to be more feminine, there are some masculine traits he wishes to have. A deeper voice is one of them. Not Tae’s level of deep, but deeper than what his currently is.
“A friend forced me to,” he admits, not naming names because how could he.
“Oh you have friends?” The younger man teases, earning a grumpy eye roll from Jimin. He takes another swig out of his cup.
Jimin remembers what he’s wearing and wonders why his best friend hasn’t said anything about it yet. He almost wants to point it out so it doesn’t awkwardly go unsaid and leaves Tae to catch on to his secret need for femininity.
“Like my costume?” Jimin asks, masking the fact that this is actually just a random shirt he’s had in his wardrobe and not a costume.
Tae gives him a quick once over, not lingering his eyes on the top for long.
“Oh what are you supposed to be?”
He definitely thought that wasn’t a costume and instead a normal outfit. Jimin cringes, hating you right now more than ever for making him show up in this. But he also loves you for providing him with the save he’s about to use on Tae.
“I’m a 60’s athlete. They used to dress like this you know.”
Taehyung hums, genuinely convinced.
“Wah that’s clever. I thought that was yours for a sec.”
Jimin hates himself for what he’s about to say.
“Why on earth would I own a pink crop top, that’s ridiculous.”
They laugh it off, and Jimin feels a gut wrenching pang in his stomach. That sentence wasn’t made for him, and it made him a liar and a hypocrite to his own desire.
He needs to go now before he says even more self damaging nonsense.
“Hey Tae, do you think you can get me a blunt?” Jimin asks in hopes to excuse his friend and, well, get high.
“Is this coming from the same person that said smoking isn’t good for you?”
Jimin remembers when he said that but he’s far too drained to be defensive or right. He shrugs as he admits to his hypocrisy.
“Yeah well so are frat parties but here I am. Cough one up, I know you have some.”
Tae stands up to reach in his front pocket, pulling out a steep tin that reveals 3 joints. He hands one to Jimin, telling him a brief “I’ll be back” before vanishing to find you again.
Something told Jimin to stay at the party despite how badly he wanted to go. He thought about how it may make you sad if he were to just leave, then he ridded that idea because why on earth would that make you sad. Nevertheless, he glanced outside to see if the crowd was acceptable to join. It wasn’t.
Deciding to not smoke with a bunch of frat guys, he goes the alternative route and heads for the hallway to secure an empty room. When he succeeds, he closes the door behind him and props the window open as he lights the tip of his joint.
He doesn’t smoke often, barely at all, but he needed this. As the smoke entered into his mouth he inhaled it eagerly, head rolling back as he slowly blows it all back out. This feels good, he thinks. The atmosphere on the other hand still could be better.
Jimin laughs to himself. Smoking weed at a frat party you invited him to. The world is funny that way, he nods to himself. Almost as funny as how you’re all he can think about right now.
He doesn’t know what it is. It’s not hate. For sure not love. He’s just thinking about you. Perhaps he misses your company? Or the way your skirts never reveal too much but just enough to drive him crazy.
The way your pouty lips move when you talk.
Your soft skin.
Your silky voice.
The way you look in that Jessica Rabbit costume you wore tonight.
Jimin is painfully erect, and without even noticing his hand has been palming himself desperately this entire time, blunt being delicately held in the other hand, occasionally being brought up for more puffs to fuel what he’s doing right now.
“Fuck Y/N, yes.”
He unties his sweats. One more rough drag and he kills the blunt on the rim of the windowsill, both hands focusing on himself now. One hand tugging his waistband down, the other guiding himself out. And all he can think about is how sexy you are.
He gets carried away, going so fast on himself that he doesn’t hear or see the door open. He’s high beyond belief, god only knows what Taehyung had laced in that blunt, and so when he sees you he swears his imagination is just very vivid.
Until his conscience registers and he almost squeals as he lunges back in shock of the situation.
Quickly you run up to him just in time to pull his entire body back and preventing him from falling out the window. You’re breathing heavy, half because of what you saw moments before and partially because you just saved his life.
“Fuck Jimin, be careful.”
And how fucking peculiar it is that you’re not addressing his cock that is out in the open between the two of you.
Jimin can’t speak. He almost literally died from being caught jerking himself to you while being high out his mind.
What a fucking legacy he’d have left.
After catching his breath he frantically goes to put himself away but his hand is stopped by yours.
“You know people sneak into rooms at parties to have sex with each other, not to do themselves.”
His cheeks flush red.
“Only freaks do that.”
Jimin has wanted to before, but he officially wants to unalive himself. How pathetic he is, he thinks.
“I’m sorry, I… I’m really high right now and I thought I locked the—“
He cuts himself off when you guide his hand back onto himself.
“You’re not gonna ask me why I came in here?”
Jimin takes a deep breath.
“Why?”
You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, very slowly putting his own hand into motion against himself.
“Because I’m a freak too.”
Your words came out in a faint whisper but Jimin’s senses are heightened and he hears it like a megaphone in his ears. Your tits are practically spilling out your tiny red tube dress as you lean to help him stroke himself. A shiver cascades down his whole body, an unintentional yet hesitant whimper rumbling off his throat.
You giggle, then abruptly you stand. You lean down and peck him on his frozen, plump lips.
“Have a good night Jimin, I’ll be in contact for our next power move.” You walk towards the door. “Masturbating is a good way to show yourself love, kudos to you kid.”
Jimin’s hand is glued to his stiff cock, frozenly just keeping it there as he stares at you with his mouth agape.
“I’ll lock this on my way out, by all means finish and do not fall out any windows.”
And just like that you open the door only a couple inches and squeeze out to give him privacy. He’s left in the same spot, still in absolute shock.
You’re perfect.
You’re beautiful, and apparently so fucking sexy in sexual situations. It takes only one more stroke and one more thought of you for Jimin to reach the finish line, cum dropping down his hand and shaft as he fucks into his fist.
He breathes jaggedly until he’s drained of all energy and collapses on the bed.
To his shock, he’s not freaking out. He’s actually smiling. Then again that could easily be the weed talking. What did taehyung put in that anyway?
Jimin’s smile dissipates as an ugly thought sends a cold chill throughout him.
You’re his best friend’s crush. You’re Taehyung's. And he just betrayed him. Jimin hates how the universe works sometimes. When one thing goes well, the whole world goes to shit.
The world is funny that way.
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ply pt 2???? im sorry for how long it took luvies, last year was so intense. i hope you all are still here to read😿 run this uppppp cuties!! til next time luvs🤭❤️
🏷️: @exactlygreatcoffee @sweetieguk @ctrlsht @blessrious @someusername133 @dreamer-pjm @zadkielr @dearsullix @lailaaxd @osakis-gf @jnghs @seltansworld @bxnqtxnie @moon-kid39 @mawwnsterr @zadkielr @iamjimintrash @chansbaybygirl @canarystwin @dearsullix @polyparkj @mannymalfoy @jmincore @kyglover @coralmusicblaze @midnightangel13 @jm-jkfics @lovelyflower02 @xcherrywaltz
soooo many of u guys who asked to be in the taglist changed your usernames so unfortunately i couldn't tag u☹️hopefully this found u!🫶🏻
(for anyone else who'd like to be in the taglist pls reply to this post <3)
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iovetecchou · 1 year
Text
funeral grey / akutagawa ryunosuke
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prompts... "Don't you dare walk away from me." & "He doesn't fuck you like this, right? Then you don't need him."
contains...! smut. port mafia!reader, posessive!aku, power imbalance, finger sucking, dirty talk, degrading terms (pathetic, whore), choking, rough sex, public sex, brat taming (?), jealousy, biting, creampie
AFAB Reader.
2,057 words.
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“Lackluster, as to be expected. Is that really all you got?” Akutagawa spat out from where he stood beside you. You clicked your tongue at his words. Rolling your eyes in frustration before you tried one last time. Giving your all into defeating the lowly enemy that continued to beg for mercy.
This time, your skills were a success. Killing the pathetic man before you in an instant. Your superior, Akutagawa, let out a sound of approval before a fit of coughing crawled up on him. “That was better, but still not good enough.”
You whipped your head in his direction. Eyebrows scrunched up in frustration as you gave him a piece of your mind. “Are you fucking with me, Ryu? Look, you and I both know that was my best attack yet. Drop the tough guy act. It’s just us.”
Akutagawa looked dumbfounded by your bold words for a moment before he composed himself. Removing his pale hand from where it covered his mouth. His dark eyes met yours. “I am your superior above all else. When we are working, you watch the way you talk to me. Know your place, y/n… this is your last warning.”
You hated how much he plagued your mind. And how his words affected you so greatly. You also hated the way his touch was burned into your skin. Or how he was so different with you behind closed doors. But most importantly, you hated yourself; for not hating him at all. 
“Oh, that’s real nice. I’m not dealing with you today, Ryu. Maybe I’ll go see what Chuuya is up to right now. I’m sure he’d praise me for my improvements.” You struck a nerve, and you knew it. The moment those words slipped out, the aura around Akutagawa shifted. You turned on your heel, making quick strides out of the desolate alleyway.
"Don't you dare walk away from me." His voice was laced with venom, coarse words sending a chill down your spine. Causing you to freeze in your tracks. You could feel his presence looming behind you as his footsteps echoed throughout the alley. You jumped ever so slightly as you felt his lips brush up against the shell of your ear.
“Take one more step, and It’ll be the last thing you do. I warned you, y/n but it appears you need to be put in your place.” His breath fanned over your cheek as he spoke. Heat pooling in your core at his actions. Your body always betrayed you when it came to Akutagawa.
“What’s the matter? You were so mouthy just a minute ago, and now you are mute. How pathetic.” Before you could process his words... you were slammed up against the rough alley wall. A wince slipped past your lips as Akutagawa glared down at you. His eyes were as void as ever. Lips pulled into a tight line.
You refused to speak up. You knew that if you did, your voice would fail you. And you weren’t quite ready to swallow your pride. Akutagawa brought a finger up to your chin. His cold digit burned into your skin. His touch always ignited your flesh.
You gazed into his eyes as you scored your bottom lip with your teeth. “Did you forget how to speak? You were blabbering about ‘praise’ from Chuuya only moments ago. Like some… desperate whore. But now you have nothing to say? When I’m standing right in front of you?”
His other hand came up to your waist. A cold hand slithered under your shirt. Eliciting a sharp breath from you. His lips curved up into a faint smirk at your reaction to his touch. He decided to push further. Ice-cold digits snaking their way under your bra. You let out a small gasp the second his thumb swiped over your nipple.
You bit your lip even fiercer, that familiar metallic taste coating your tongue. Akutagawa's eyes darted down to your lips for a moment. He was amused by your stubbornness, but he was also determined to make you break. His finger that still resided on your chin moved further up. He pressed his nimble fingers to your lips.
“Open. Now.” He ordered. You finally released your lip from your firm bite. “Are you fucking- mfh-!” Akutagawa shoved his lithe digits inside your mouth. Not letting you speak any further as his next orders followed. “Suck.”
Your eyes were blown wide at his demands. Eyebrows knitted in anger from the way he was handling you. And yet... you couldn’t hide the blush that enveloped your cheeks. Or how your thighs rubbed together, which Akutagawa didn’t fail to notice.
The corners of his lips curled up even further as you began to suck on his digits. “How despicable. Keep sucking, whore.” You let out a whine around his fingers from the degrading term. As much as you tried to hide the effect Akutagawa had on you... your body gave you away.
You pushed into your desires, resolve snapping like a thread. As you sucked on Akutagawa's digits with more vigor, he began tweaking your nipple from beneath your bra. He flicked and twisted your nub as he so pleased. His eyes never once parted from your lips. Akutagawa was entranced by the way you lapped at his fingers.
This continued for a few moments more, before Akutagawa retracted his fingers from your mouth. His other hand snaked its way out of your shirt as well. Instead, his hands came down to the front of his slacks. Akutagawa didn't bother to pull his pants all the way down. Just enough to free his semi-hard cock. 
His saliva-coated digits wrapped around his aching length. Giving it a few languid pumps before his voice rattles through your brain once more. "Are you just going to stand there and gape at me? Strip, now." Akutagawa demanded. Shooting yet another icy glare your way. 
You scrambled to free yourself from your clothes. Pulling your pants and panties down with one swift tug before moving to your top. You yanked the offending article of clothing over your head before lastly unclasping your bra. Bearing it all to Akutagawa and any passerby who dared to peek down this alley. But you couldn't bring yourself to care about that last part right now. You were too far gone at this point. 
Akutagawa's dark eyes glazed over your exposed frame before he pressed further into you. Now chest to chest as his gaze locked with your own. He brought his free hand up to hook under your thigh. Pulling it up far enough until it settled beside his waist. 
"Keep this leg up, or I'll leave you in this alley to take matters into your own hands." You nodded at him once. Too focused on the feeling of his cock prodding against your entrance to respond verbally. His grip on your thigh tightened as the tip of his dick pushed past the tight ring of your slick pussy.
He stifled back a moan as a fit of coughing washed over him. You brought your hands up to grip his hips. Pushing up against him in an attempt to have Akutagawa fill up your wet heat. But he wasn't having this, not even for a second. "Oh, and now my whore is trying to take control? Don't even think about trying that again." 
With that, Akutagawa slammed his hips forward. Burying his entire length inside you. "Hah... Ryu-!" You whined out. Gripping onto his sides for dear life as you tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion. You could feel his balls twitching from where they kissed the underside of your pussy. 
"Be quiet." He grunted out through gritted teeth. Snaking his hand up to grasp your throat. Akutagawa held you still with his grip on your neck. Not daring to squeeze down... just yet. He brought his face close to yours. Lips ghosted over one another as you both panted out. Akutagawa tried to regain his composure. He always became slightly overwhelmed each time you two became one. 
“Are you still desperate for Chuuya’s praise? Or is my whore satisfied?” Akutagawa grunted out. The sultry moans that slipped past your lips encouraged him to fuck up into you with more force. You gripped his waist for dear life. In a desperate attempt to ground yourself. "He doesn't fuck you like this, right? Then you don't need him."
Akutagawa’s grip on your throat tightened. Not appreciating your lack of respect in the slightest. “You speak when you are spoken to. Understood, whore? I’ll ask this one last time… are you satisfied?” You clenched fiercely around his throbbing cock from the harsh way he spoke to you. Akutagawa cursed under his breath from the way your needy pussy pulsed around his length.
He was getting close, but he needed to hear you say it. Your eyelids opened slowly, meeting his intimidating gaze once more before you squeaked out, “Y-Yes Ryu! I’m more than pleased! You fuck me so good… I-I only want to be praised by you-!” His eyes widened at your bold confession. Nearly cumming on the spot from how desperate you were for him.
“See? That wasn’t so hard, darling.” You couldn’t control the whine that slipped past your parted lips from his sweet term of endearment. There was that soft side that he reserved for you. You felt so special when he spoke so softly like this to you while he fucked you senseless. The coil within you was mere moments from snapping, and Akutagawa could tell.
“Are you going to cum, darling? How obscene. Getting all worked up from being fucked out in the open like this. Anyone could walk by and see you. But that gets you even more excited, doesn’t it? You really are nothing but a vulgar whore. My filthy little whore.”
That was all it took for the coil within you to snap. Drool seeped past your lips as a choked-out whine of his name slipped out. You gushed all over his cock, pulsing and squeezing around him for dear life as Akutagawa worked you through your high.
He was quick to follow after you. The sight of your eyes rolling back into your head once more and the feeling of your cunt gripping his cock like a vise was all too much. Akutagawa delivered one last thrust into your weeping pussy. Burying himself to the hilt inside you as his first ropes of cum spilled out past his slit.
The grip he had on your throat loosened. Akutagawa nestled his face into the crook of your neck. Biting down on the exposed flesh hard. Stifling his needy whines as he pumped you full of his cum. “Hmn… so good, Ryu. Feels so good…” You babbled out. Feeling completely dazed from your intense orgasm that Akutagawa so graciously granted you.
He pulled away from your neck, covering his mouth with his free hand. Partially to cover up his blush but more importantly to conceal his coughing. A smile tugged at your lips at the rare sight of him being flustered. You moved your hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks. You leaned in further. Placing a lingering kiss on the back of his hand.
Akutagawa’s blush deepened immensely from the indirect kiss. He cleared his throat before slowly dragging his cock out of your spent pussy. You both gasped out in unison at the feeling of being separated. Your arousal and his cum trickled down your thighs, causing you to squeeze them together.
Akutagawa languidly tucked himself back into his slacks. Scrunching up his face in displeasure at the uncomfortable sticky feeling. You let out a small chuckle at his expression. “And what’s so funny? I would tread lightly if I were you right now, y/n.” He snapped his head up in your direction. Giving you a pointed look as he awaited your response.
“Aww… what happened to you calling me darling? I was really starting to get attached to that little nickname.” And... you were back to your usual self. So much for Akutagawa fucking the brat out of you. He invaded your personal space, leaning his face dangerously close to yours before he spoke up once more.
“Watch your tongue, or I’ll fuck you stupid again.”
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1K notes · View notes
whumpsoda · 8 months
Text
A Weak Mind
I’m going insane I’ve been writing so much lately it’s crazy
I reallyyy like this one, so I hope you enjoy!
I wrote a part two as well :D Part two
cw: restraints, mild cursing, hypnosis/conditioning, pet whump
———————————————————————
Villain couldn’t move.
The countless restraints made sure of that.
They also ensured his instinctive panic upon gaining back consciousness. He struggled, fought against the leather straps, but of course the fight was futile. Even while squirming so determinedly, he was stuck.
Almost immediately upon his awakening, the room echoed with boisterous screams and shouts. Some were made from confusion, some anger. “Where am I!? What the fuck’s going on!? Let me out! Let me out! I’m going to fucking kill you!” Furious spittle flew from his mouth.
He could barely make out the area around him, only being able to make out a few cluttered tables. Villain continued spitting malicious roars at seemingly nothing.
Minutes passed.
So many minutes, he had no way of telling how many. 
His voice had become hoarse and strangled from the screaming. His words were slowing, quieting, coming to a stop. No one was there. He was alone in a strange place, strapped rigidly to an uncomfortable chair.
“Just fucking… show yourself already… asshole…” No response.
A click.
Villain would’ve looked if he could, but the noise came from behind him, and his head was currently not allowed that type of movement. Or any, really. 
His raspy voice picked up slightly. “Fight me… dickhead…” The determined steps approached closer, until the mysterious figure had walked right past him, practically ignoring the man strapped to the chair.
As the figure walked past, Villain caught a mumble stumbling from the figure’s lips. “Fuck. I missed the best part.” In return Villain forced his voice to return out of pure rage, but continued insults did nothing to catch the attention of the person rummaging around the room. 
A faint hand reached to the ceiling, and with another slight click a singular lightbulb lit across the room. Villain could make out the person a bit better now, their stretched frame, their long silky dark hair. Every step of theirs was determined, made with purpose as they circled around several locations. 
Superhero.
“Hey, fucker-”
“Hush. I’ll be with you in a minute.” Villain recoiled. She was speaking to him as if he were an elementary school child. 
The woman flicked a simple switch, and blue light cast upon the room. Half of one entire wall was filled top to bottom by what appeared to be some sort of giant computer. Superhero mumbled to herself comfortably, as if there wasn’t a man subdued in a chair mere feet away. “Where’s that setting… ah, here it is.” They carefully turned several notches on a large dial.
Villain was quiet, too quiet. He couldn’t ignore the fear anymore, his voice wouldn’t conjure up noise any longer. So many terrified thoughts ran through his mind, blocking out the fact that the woman was now walking his direction. 
She had something wrapped delicately in her hands, a mask-like object. Wires sprouted from all sides, running to who knows where. 
She lifted the bulky box up to Villain’s face, easily slipping it over his head despite his struggles. “Hey, hey! What the hell is going on!? Get this shit off of me!” The mask felt like a mix between a pair of goggles and a VR headset, enveloping his vision and nose. His vision was filled with complete darkness.
A finger rested over his thin lips, ceasing his yells. “Hush. It’ll be okay soon.” Villain could only hear the person’s steps stalking around the room, now. 
Seconds later, he heard yet another mechanical click.
His vision was overwhelmed by a bright lavender light. Villain urgently squeezed his eyes tight, refusing to open them. As he sat there, the color trying to seep into his eyeballs, a pair of bulky headphones slipped over his ears, and nimble fingers began massaging his head.
He could hear faint voices at first, or maybe all the same one, he couldn’t tell. Not until they grew louder, and louder. They blocked out any of his thoughts, a tight grasp leaking into his brain. 
Most of the voices Villain did not recognize. One of them though, the very loudest, he definitely did.
“Hero…?”
“Open your eyes, Villain. Let the light in. It’s meant to help, Villain, it won’t hurt. Open your eyes.” All of the voices robotically chanted the same words in his ears, constantly looping back to the beginning.
Villain held back, he held back as long as he could possibly manage, but soon, he wanted to do it. To open his eyes. He wanted to see it. His curiosity got the best of him. At least that’s what he believed. 
As soon as his eyes fluttered open, he never wanted to shut them again. He couldn’t even make out the images, the words. His brain was clouding, the visuals taking a hold on him.
As soon as his eyes opened, the voices picked up. “Good, Villain, so good. Such a good boy.” An intense, pleasurable feeling spread throughout Villain’s body upon the praise. The scratching upon his head mixed with the traveling feeling felt better than anything ever had before. It had to have been the most enjoyable feeling he had ever felt. It felt like heaven.
Villain yearned for more.
He continued to focus on the screen, the words and imagery becoming clearer and clearer. He was so focused, so obsessed.
“Focus, Villain. Relax, focus.” His body cuddled into the chair, it’s once uncomfortable feel being replaced with an unhealthily beautiful one. “Focus, Villain. You’re doing so well, so good. Read the words, Villain, repeat them.” 
The words began to spill out of Villain like water. 
“Obedience.”
Good.
“Submissive.”
Good boy.
“Do…cile.”
Good boy, Villain.
“Oh…obediencccceee…”
Good boy, Villain.
“Sub… submisshivvvee…”
Good boy, Villain.
“Da… da-docillllleee…”
Good boy, Villain.
“Pettt...”
Good boy, Pet.
The constant praise was filling his senses completely, overriding everything else, liquefying his brain. The pleasure he felt was constant and unimaginable. The words, the voices, the ideas, mixed together in a mix of marvelous pleasure. 
Any previous feelings of fear or anger had melted away so long ago, not even an afterthought to Villain. He wanted this. He wanted the good feels. He wanted it to continue forever. Submitting didn’t feel so bad anymore.
Each new flashing image, surrounded by the tender purple color, pulled Villain in deeper. His brain was melting, turning to mush. He couldn’t think. He shouldn’t think.
He didn’t want to think.
The words didn’t make sense anymore. To him the images were now accompanied by symbols completely foreign to him. The meaningless words though, they pulled him in, comforted him.
The voices continued, whispering sounds, some nonsensically to him, just like the words on the screen.
Except on the screen and in the voices, there were a few he could make out. The words he did understand, the ones he wanted to.
Obedient, submissive, docile.
Sit, stay, rollover.
Good boy.
Sweet pet.
They swirled in his mind, plastered across the walls of his brain. 
Villain sniffed vigorously. A scent had been released in front of him, released from the mask. He was caught completely in the familiar smell that filled his nose. 
“Sweet pet. Be so good for me won’t you? Your best behavior?” It was just one voice now ringing through his ears. The familiar voice. The one that had constantly remained the loudest. 
The scent matched the voice perfectly, causing Villain’s head to go wild.
“Heeeroooooo…” His voice didn’t even feel like his anymore. 
The voice, the scent, the words.
He could muster no thoughts, his head empty and smooth, enforced by the firm massaging of delicate fingers.
The imagery looped, so did the familiar words. Over and over again. The many voices returned behind the main one, filling his ears. Villain had no desire for it to end, not a drop in his whole body. 
His being was encased in a pure sense of bliss, relishing in the sweet buzz of the voice.
As soon as it had started, the experience stopped. Villain barely even noticed, his mind too compromised to understand. The fingers lifted from his hair, the headphones  gently being slipped off. The mask stayed on.
“What are you?” Villain recognized the voice instantly, one of the many that had been feeding him praises only moments ago.
He wasted no time mulling over a response.
“Pppetttt…” his words were slurred, coated in a fuzzy glaze.
“Who do you belong to, Pet?”
“Hhheerrrooooo…” Each time an automatic response exited his mouth, a feeling of intense satisfaction spiked inside him once again.
“Good boy. You’ve done so well, Hero will be so pleased. We only have a little more to go.”
Villain’s smile, desperate for the praise, stretched.
“Once you can’t so much as speak, it’ll all be over.
You’ll be fixed.”
—————————————————————
Soon enough, the mask finally slipped from his flushed cheeks.
Villain had no idea how long it had been, hours, days, maybe even weeks, the concept of time no longer carrying any meaning to him.
As the restraints he had gotten so used to were all unclipped, his whole body slumped, sliding out of the chair and onto the tiled flooring. He stationed himself on all fours, instinctively. Villain’s eyes sat half-lidded, heavy after being open for so long. He was still, prepared for instruction.
A thin, tall mirror was stationed several feet in front of him. Superhero was positioned next to it, guiding his eyes into the reflection. Someone, the one staring back at him, looked unruly and unkempt. Their hair was a mess, their clothes wrinkled and slipping. Their eyes were hollow, blank. Something sat on around their neck, something thick and irritating. 
A dog collar.
Villain didn’t even comprehend the fact that it was himself he was looking at.
“Do you like it?” No response. The words meant nothing to him, not registering in his feeble mind. “Too easy,” the person flipped around, stepping to a hook on the wall. They slipped a long, thin piece of fabric off, with a clip on the end. “I was really hoping for more of a fight.
At least I’ve got a wonderful gift for hero.”
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heerated · 2 years
Text
FILM — 박종성 !
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ㅤ﹗ ׅ࣪ ✰ # kinktober day five | SEX TAPE .. 🎞️📷
boyfriend!jay x f!reader g. smut, slight fluff
synopsis. jay will be leaving to go on tour soon and he wants to make a sex tape with you so he could watch it when he’s away. warn! established relationship, cursing, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), oral sex (female receiving), “good girl” is used, multiple orgasm. wc. 1.3k
kinktober masterlist.
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jay threw a camera beside you on the bed that you two shared, causing you to look up from your phone. you raised your eyebrows at him, confused over what the camera was supposed to be used for. your boyfriend plopped himself beside you, resting against the headboard with both of his arms behind his head. "you know how i'm going on tour in a few days?"
you let out a sigh at his reminder "no need to remind me." jay brought you close by putting his arm around your shoulders, resting your head on his shoulder. he placed a kiss on the top of your head before saying, "it’s okay, baby. i’ll be back soon. but i thought we could maybe try something before i leave?" you lifted your head off his shoulder, staring up at him, waiting for him to continue on.
"could we film us having sex?" he asks, shifting his gaze from you to the camera he tossed on the bed. your eyes widened at his question, "what?! are you serious?" jay looked away to avoid making eye contact with you and fiddled with his thumps in his lap. he shrugged his shoulders and said, "i don’t know. just so i have something to watch while i’m gone. since we can’t do anything, you know..”
"i don’t know, jay. i’ve never done that before." he cupped your cheeks with the palms of his hands and placed a kiss on your forehead "hey. i won’t show it to anyone or let anyone see it, okay? it’ll be just for my eyes only." you looked at him in his eyes, which were soft yet filled with lust at the same time. you nodded to agree to film the sex tape, but you were still nervous about it deep down.
jay removed himself from next to you on the bed and walked to the closet of the bedroom. he pulled out something that looked like a tripod and quickly set up the camera on it, having it point directly towards you. you rubbed the sides of your arms as you watched him continue to set up. he looked up from the camera and noticed you looking anxious. he shot you his beautiful smile to reassure you, which helped you calm down a little bit.
"are you ready?" he asks you. you give him a small nod in response. "okay. then get undressed for me, baby." jay clicked a button on the camera, and a small red dot appears, indicating that he started recording. you began stripping off your clothes as jay walked over to you, towering over you on the bed. once your blouse and pants were removed, he helped you remove your bra, revealing your perfect tits that jay happened to be obsessed with.
you couldn’t help but act shy towards jay’s acts because you knew the camera was recording. yet as soon as his lips touched the skin on your neck, your body relaxed as you let out a small sigh. jay knew your body better than you knew your own. you became so delicate under his touch, wanting him to feel every inch of you.
you felt jay cup both of your breasts in his hands as his lips trailed down from your neck to your chest. he released one hand from your breast to insert his hand in between your legs. you flinched at the sudden contact of his fingers on your heat. he could see how wet you were already, and he whispered, "all wet and ready for me like the good girl you are."
his words along with his touch made you even wetter, and jay could sure feel it. he smirked against your skin before moving down towards the spit in between your thighs. jay was now face to face with your cunt, and you gasped at the feeling of his lips kissing your heat through your panties. his nose rubbed against your clit as he did so, causing you to instantly grip the bed sheets and slightly arch your back.
you glanced at the camera for a second to check if it was still recording, and it was. you looked back down at jay who was already looking back at you. he gripped the sides of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs. you kept your legs wide to make it easier for him to take them off of you.
jay had successfully removed your panties, giving him a clear view of your cunt glistening from your slick. "your pussy is always so pretty when it’s wet for me." you found your hands making their way into jay’s hair as he connected his mouth to your heat. his tongue slid between your folds, and you were in heaven. his nose nudged your clit as he fucked your hole with his tongue.
your hands gripped at his hair as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach growing stronger and stronger. jay's tongue then moved up to your clit, licking in circles until your legs shook. he gripped your hips to hold you down as your breath started to pick up. you felt yourself getting closer to your high.
"fuck, jay. i'm cumming" you loudly moaned as jay continued to lick your clit as you rode out your orgasm. jay left kitty licks on your heat as you finally caught your breath. he got up from between your legs and got on top of you, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips. you kissed him back as he started to kiss you rough, leaving the sweet taste of you in your mouth.
jay looked back behind him to check the camera, nodding to himself that it was still rolling. you looked down at his pants, noticing the now-formed tent in his crotch. your hands made their way to his belt, unbuckling it and quickly pulling his pants down afterwards. you then assist him in removing his underwear, revealing his hard cock. jay looked down at you with a smirk as he pumped himself a few times before positioning himself at your entrance.
"i’m almost there, jay" you breathed out as he kept a steady pace with his strokes. "m-me too, baby. fuck i can feel you tightening around me." jay’s thrusts began to turn sloppy as he reached closer to his orgasm. you were right there with him before both of you let out moans, reaching your climaxes.
jay kept up with his sloppy strokes before finally coming to a stop, removing himself from inside you as he releases his cum all over your stomach. he fell beside you on the bed, causing you to turn your head to look at him. sweat was dripping down his brow as his chest rose and fell due to his slightly heavy breathing. he turned his head to you, seeing that you were already staring at him, which brought a grin to his face. jay got out of bed and went to the bathroom, quickly returning with a towel to clean you up. as you were cleaning his release off of your body, he walked to the camera and pressed the button again to stop recording.
he walked back over to the bed and laid down beside you again, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling him closer to you, and placing a kiss on your forehead. you snuggled into his body before saying, "i’m going to miss you so much." a sad smile replaced jay’s grin, "i’ll miss you even more. but i promise i’ll be back soon."
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series tglist. ( open! just comment, dm me, or send an ask to be added ) @n-wjns @loves0ft @zeraaax @p34rluv @sweetjaemss @hoondoll @xwonniex @yjjungwon @sunshine-skz @rikakhai @wubbster @sunghoonmybeloved @han8ul @kkurabae @sung5oon @metalchick529 @bwljules @jeondolly @janehrt @iliana26 @sunshinebunbun @lserlover @alternativelix @princesjy @dasa3040 @bunhoons @maggstar
cant be tagged ; @lvrhsngg @greatheartattacks @cha0ticpisces @luredher
perm tglist. ( open! just comment, dm, or send an ask to be added ) @5xiang @jayluvrs @y-eos @zhaixiaowen @hanniecheesecake
1K notes · View notes
itsjaywalkers · 2 months
Text
a lil smth under the cut for u guys (part 3) <3
(light nsfw)
part 1 part 2
“Well, it’s not perfect, but it’s decent enough, so it’ll have to do,” James says, and Regulus it’s too busy trying to keep his breathing under control to be bothered by the other man’s words. “Relax your shoulders a little, love.” 
“Don’t,” Regulus hisses, even though he isn’t sure himself if that response is because of the nickname, or James’ touch, or James’ closeness, or something else entirely. 
“Don’t what?” James asks, sneaking a hand up and massaging one of his shoulders until both of them sag. 
“You know what.” 
“I don’t even think you know.” 
Regulus huffs loudly, and hates that he can’t argue back. 
“Show me how you do a jab,” James requests, his hands returning to Regulus’ waist after one last press on his shoulder. 
Regulus clears his throat slightly, feeling a bit flustered all of a sudden while he raises his right arm and gets ready to do what James asked. He only hesitates for a couple of seconds before doing the punch, not as confident as he’d usually be after having James criticise him so much. 
He knows he’s no expert. He isn’t even that athletic to begin with. But he still has a boxer brother, which means he’s definitely not as clueless as James is making him out to be. 
Maybe if it were someone else, Regulus would find it in himself to fight back, defend his knowledge and Sirius’ teachings. But, as it turns out, having a professional boxer watching you try to punch is an incredibly humbling experience. Especially one as mind-blowingly good as James. 
Not like Regulus would ever tell him that.
James hums. “Not bad,” he says, and really, it shouldn’t satisfy Regulus as much as it does. “It’s a bit too slow, though.” 
Regulus tilts his head back, in an attempt to look at the other man, but he barely lasts a second after realising how fucking close both of his faces are. 
His heart beats wildly in his chest. He can only hope James doesn’t notice. 
“How so?” Regulus wonders, so relieved to hear his voice sounds completely normal. 
“Jabs focus on speed over strength,” James explains calmly. “It’s a matter of overwhelming your opponent, rather than properly hurting. The punch has to be quick, and once the arm returns, it’s gotta go up, protect your face. Like this.”
He grabs one of Regulus’ arms gently, moving it forward and then back very slowly, to demonstrate how to do it, and then fast, jostling Regulus’ whole body with it. 
“See?” James murmurs, and he could swear that his tone has gone lower. “You don’t have to worry about being strong enough. It’s all about speed.”
“Okay,” Regulus replies with a tiny nod, doing his best to concentrate on what James is seeing, and not on all of the points where they’re touching. Or on how close James is. Or how nice he smells, despite all the sweat—maybe even because of it. “I think I get it.” 
“Yeah? Wanna try again on your own?”
Part of Regulus wants to snark back, argue that it’s only a stupid jab and James is just being picky because he’s a professional boxer and it’s not like there’s an actual science to throwing a punch. But having James holding onto his waist must be clouding his mind, because he just gives another nod, and does his best to replicate James’ movement and speed. 
“Yeah, that’s it,” James breathes out, and Regulus can almost hear his smile. “Very good, love. You’re a natural.”
“Oh, I’m a natural now?” Regulus huffs out, but it comes out more teasing than irritated. 
“Or maybe you just have a great teacher,” James adds playfully, accompanied by a squeeze on his hips. 
“You’re right, Sirius is pretty great,” Regulus responds with a shrug, relishing in the way James clicks his tongue. 
“But I’m better.”
“In your dreams, Potter.”
“Wait, what happened to ‘James’?”
Regulus feels heat rushing to his cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
James chuckles way too close to Regulus’ ear, and his breath hits the side of his neck, goosebumps breaking all over his skin. Regulus has to swallow a very embarrassing and very needy sound before it makes it past his lips.
“C’mon, love, we were getting along so nicely. Don’t try to ruin it now.”
“You’ve finally lost it,” Regulus states, trying to laugh the whole thing off. It probably doesn’t work, though, considering how unstable he sounds. “There’s not a single universe in which you and I get along, Potter.”
“Liar,” James whispers. “I’m growing on you.”
“Whatever gave me away?” Regulus grumbles, sarcasm dripping from his words.
“The fact that you’re letting me touch you,” James murmurs, voice smooth and silky, feeling like a caress. “How you keep leaning against my contact, and catching yourself at the last second.”
Regulus’ breath hitches. “That’s—” 
“The way you’re not even arguing with me anymore. Not really,” James continues, unrelenting, his lips grazing Regulus’ earlobe and making his eyes flutter shut. “If anything, I’d even dare to say you’re flirting.”
“You’re delusional,” Regulus spits, too breathless to sound as furious as he’d like to. “The fucking audacity—”
“And,” James cuts him off, tone so frustratingly smug, “I bet you’re aching between those pretty legs of yours.” 
Regulus lets out an embarrassed noise, barely suppressing the urge to press his thighs together. 
“No,” he croaks out, shaking his head a little and face burning. 
“No?” James mocks him, pressing his smirk behind Regulus’ ear. “Shall we check?” 
One of James’ hands moves slowly, sliding from its place on Regulus’ waist to rest under his navel, fingers playfully caressing his waistband. 
Regulus hates how that mere touch is enough to turn his mind into static. To make his heart stutter in his chest, and the mess in his underwear almost unbearable.
“Potter—”
“No.”
Regulus’ eyebrows shoot up, and before he has the chance to ask, he feels James’ teeth at the side of his neck, nipping teasingly and dragging a fucking whimper out of him.
“What—?!” he begins, completely red in the face and attempting to move away from the other man for the first time since he allowed his touch.
James holds him tighter, bites down harder. “Behave, Regulus, or I’ll fucking make you.” 
Regulus doesn’t listen, despite how the tone of James’ voice makes him tremble like a leaf. He keeps resisting, an outraged sound leaving his mouth while his body betrays him and becomes even wetter. 
“Oh, you don’t get to play the clueless card on me,” James murmurs, his teeth giving way to a devilish tongue that turns Regulus soft and pliant, his attempts at freeing himself growing sloppy, lazy. “I always do my best to be patient, to respect your boundaries and control myself, but you’ve been a damn tease all afternoon, and I’m fucking done.” 
“What the fuck are you even—” 
“Enough,” James growls back, and it’s so commanding Regulus’ mouth snaps shut with a clack. 
There’s a beat of silence, and then James is laughing under his breath. “Good boy.”
It’s filled with mockery, bordering on mean, and yet, it still makes Regulus moan like a fucking bitch in heat, eyes rolling to the back of his skull and body going completely boneless. 
“Fuck,” James whispers, a mix between awed and devastated. “I should’ve known. I should’ve fucking known. Is that what does it for you, baby? You wanna be my good boy?”
Baby. 
Baby. 
Baby. 
Regulus moans again, even though it’s weaker this time, but he still shakes his head, or tries to at least, holding onto the last traces of sanity and refusing to let James win whatever twisted game they’re playing. 
“C’mon, you were doing so well,” James mumbles, tongue licking up the side of his neck. “And you can’t fool me anymore. Not like you ever did, but still. I know you wanna be good for me, baby. Know you wanna please me, let me use you in whatever way I see fit.”
He tries to shake his head once more, but somehow, his brain gets the order wrong and Regulus ends up nodding instead. 
“That’s right,” James coos, dropping a kiss on his skin, long and lingering. “Now, say my name, Regulus.” 
“James,” he gasps almost against his will, mouth moving before his mind can catch up. 
The other man groans and then attaches his lips to his throat immediately after, tongue pressing down as he sucks, the sting feeling absolutely heavenly. 
Regulus tilts his head to the side to give James more space, eyes hooded and limbs heavy, back coming to rest against James’ chest. 
“James,” he says again, without being prompted this time and the word almost sounding like a whine. 
“Fuck, you’re driving me insane,” James hisses against his neck, peppering the skin with open-mouthed kisses, his tongue and teeth mapping out Regulus’ skin. “You don’t understand how long I’ve been dying to do this.”
Regulus whimpers, hands moving on their own volition and reaching behind him until they bury themselves into James’ messy locks. He pulls, a bit harsher than intended, but before Regulus can manage to apologise, James is moaning loudly, the vibrations on his skin making him shiver. 
He pulls again, and James bites down on his throat hard enough to leave a mark. Regulus doesn’t have it in himself to reprimand him, or to tell him to stop. His brain is unable to focus on anything that isn’t James’ mouth working down his neck. 
“We could’ve been doing this ages ago if you weren’t so fucking stubborn,” James sighs, lips caressing his exposed shoulder and dragging another obscene noise out of Regulus. “I knew you wanted it. I knew you wanted me.”
“James—” Regulus pants, apparently unable to speak anything else apart from the other man’s name. 
It’s kind of embarrassing, how pliant a couple of kisses and a few dirty comments can make him. Regulus isn’t usually this easy, especially not in bed; he likes having a modicum of control, always ready to remind his partner that he doesn’t enjoy being bossed around. But, and as much as he hates to admit it, James knows what he’s doing. 
Although, maybe it’s not even a matter of skills. Maybe it’s simply that it’s James, and despite how much he’s tried to deny it, he’s been desperate for him almost since the moment he laid eyes on him. 
“God, baby, you taste divine,” James grunts, sucking on his collarbone almost at the same time that his fingers dip into Regulus’ waistband. They don’t get very far, and it’s more of a playful contact than anything else, but his breath still hitches. “Can’t wait to put my mouth between your legs.”
Regulus makes a keening sound, hips twitching, and James chuckles cruelly against his shoulder.
“You’d let me, right, baby?” James goes on, the hand that had slipped inside the basketball shorts changing its course and travelling up up up, until they’re caressing Regulus’ chest, following the shape of his scars. “There’s no point in pretending you’re not fucking gagging for it at this point. Just look at you. Look at you. I bet you could come from this. From me marking you up while I whisper in your ear.”
“N-no,” Regulus huffs, blinking furiously and doing his best to break out of his daze. “You’re too—too full of yourself. This isn’t enough, it could never be, and I—”
“Not enough?” James questions, stopping his ministrations. Regulus bites his tongue to stop the protest at the tip of his tongue. “Is this your way of asking for more, baby? Because you’re gonna have to do better than that. I don’t listen to brats.” 
Regulus wishes he could scoff, elbow James in the stomach so his touches stop clouding his mind and tell him to fuck off. Maybe even show him how well he can throw a stupid punch. 
But his body isn’t listening to his mind. It doesn’t care about what Regulus truly wants. Or what he’s been telling himself he wants, at least.
That’s why when he parts his lips, none of the curses he’s been preparing come out. Instead, there’s only need and lust. “Please,” he whimpers, closing his eyes tight momentarily. “Please, James, I—I just—”
James shushes him gently while circling a nipple, Regulus’ toes curling inside his toes and cunt clenching around nothing. “Oh, baby. It’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you so well. Give you exactly what you need.”
“Yeah,” Regulus exhales, hands spasming around James’ curls. “Please.” 
“Gonna let me fuck you, baby? Let me finger you nice and open, so you can get ready for my cock?” 
Regulus moans and nods and thrashes around, one of his hands slipping from James’ hair just so he can grab one of James' by its wrist, pushing his arm downwards and hoping to get some relief where he truly needs it. 
James stops right before he reaches his waistband, a cocky grin curving against Regulus’ skin. 
“Well, well,” James breathes. “Aren’t you a needy little thing.” 
“C’mon,” Regulus complains, uncaring of how childish he sounds. He feels too fucking drunk on everything James to be able to think about anything else apart from getting off.
James laughs again, because he’s mean like that, and Regulus can already feel some tears prickling at his eyes out of frustration.
“You have to tell me what you want, Regulus,” James says, and his voice is so damn casual it actually hurts. “This won’t work otherwise.” 
There’s no this, Regulus wants to snap back, but then James is pressing nearer, until Regulus can feel the outline of his hard cock against his ass. It makes him gasp and push back against it, really pleased by the little hiss James lets out at the pressure.
“See what you do to me, baby?” James whispers, dragging his lips over his shoulders, the side of his throat, behind his ear. “We barely did anything, and yet I’m so fucking hard it’s actually painful. You’ve no idea of how many times I’ve jerked myself off to the thought of you. Wishing it was your hand instead. Your mouth. The inside of your cunt.” 
Regulus’ knees shake, a mewl escaping his parted lips, and James’ grip on him turns even stronger. 
“I bet you’ll feel all tight and warm around me,” James goes on, tone husky, words dripping with so much desire it makes Regulus light-headed. “Make the sweetest sounds, too. I used to think you were too uptight and that I needed to fuck the stubborness out of you, but it turns out that you’re real fucking dirty, baby. Grinding back against my cock and opening your legs the moment I praised you a little. Oh, if they could see you now, baby. Big bad scary Regulus Black. Reduced to a pathetic, whimpering mess.”
“Shut up,” Regulus grits out, but he doesn’t stop rubbing his ass on James’ cock, or pulling at James’ wrist insistently, in an attempt to get his hand inside his pants. “You’re all bark and no bite. Spent all these months telling me everything you wanted to do to me, and now that I finally give you a chance, you’re only teasing and babbling in my ear.” 
“Good try, baby, but you should know by now that that attitude of yours only turns me on.” 
“Yeah? Then how come you’re not fucking me yet, huh?” 
James’ other hand, the one that hasn’t stopped gripping Regulus’ waist for a single second, lets go and climbs up, taking a hold of Regulus’ chin. James uses it to tilt his head back, forcing their gazes to meet, and Regulus despises how he feels himself get slicker at the flash of danger on James’ gaze, the sharpness of his smirk. 
“God, the mouth you have on you, baby.” James cocks his head to the side, considering, and he grips his chin even tighter. “So fucking filthy. And so pretty when you beg.” 
“I don’t beg,” Regulus murmurs back, aware that it’s a lie. He still narrows his eyes when James barks out a laugh. 
“Yes, you do. You already have. And you will do so again, if you want to come.” 
“I don’t need you for that. I can just—just walk out of here, leave you hanging and get off all by myself—”
“No, you can’t. I’m sure you’ve also jerked off while thinking of me, right, baby? All that tension, all that repression, I know it took its toll. Did you finger yourself slow and deep as soon as you got home after our interviews? Came with my name in your mouth?”
Regulus only glares at him, not even trying to defend himself. What’s the point, when James can see right through him? Lying won’t do him any favours. 
“You did,” James states, ridiculously pleased with himself. “You’re not gonna go and waste this chance over your wounded pride, baby. Argue all you want, but we both know you’re not going anywhere. Not when you’re practically drooling at the thought of taking my cock.”
“Don’t act like you don’t want it as much, if not more, than I do,” Regulus grumbles. 
James shrugs, leaning forward and forcing Regulus to do the same. Until their noses are grazing each other, breaths intermingling. 
“Never said otherwise,” he retorts with ease. 
“Then what the fuck are you playing at?”
“Nothing, really. Just waiting for you to tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you, baby, I swear. You just gotta ask.” 
Regulus purses his lips, but James does sound sincere, and at this point, it’s not like he has anything else to lose. It’s too late to try and save face, and his dignity, or whatever was left of it, took its leave the moment he allowed James to get this close. 
Besides, he wants this. He wants James. Has done so for a while, probably since the very beginning, and not even he has this much self-restraint.
“Fuck me,” Regulus says in a soft exhale, watching the way James’ pupils eat at his irises. “Please, James, fuck me. I need you inside me, it’s—fucking unbearable, really, and I’m gonna lose it if you don’t—”
“Yes,” James gasps out, nodding fast, moves turning erratic as he finally slips his hand under the shorts, under Regulus’ briefs. “Yes. Of course, baby, anything you want, I’m—shit, you’re so—let me just—”
His fingers rub at his clit playfully, pulling a moan out of Regulus, before they continue their path down, until they’re running through slick curls, teasing at his entrance and marvelling at the wetness they find there. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re fucking dripping,” James whispers in wonder. Regulus can only whimper, pushing against his eager hand. “And it’s for me. All for me. Fucking hell, just—come here—”
It’s when James tilts his head up, clearly wanting to kiss him, that Regulus finally manages to go back to himself. That Regulus remembers where he is, what he’s doing, who he’s doing it with. 
Reality hits him with such harshness that the ground seems to tilt under his feet, leaving him breathless, and dizzy, and having to swallow down a wave of nausea. 
What the actual fuck is wrong with him? 
“Wait,” he squeals, James’ mouth already touching his. “Wait.” 
To the other man’s credit, he does stop immediately at Regulus’ words, pulling back and fingers freezing where they were exploring at his cunt’s entrance. 
Regulus takes a gulp of air, heart rumbling loudly inside his head, his brain screaming at him to get a fucking grip. 
“Reg?” James calls him, a worried frown twisting his features while his eyes roam all over his face. “Baby, you okay?”
“Don’t—” Regulus wheezes out, clawing at James’ arm until he gets the hint and takes it out of his pants. He can’t think with those thick, calloused fingers resting on his cunt. “We can’t do this. It’s—no, James, just—no.”
Something pained flashes in James’ gaze, before it disappears, being substituted by a harshness Regulus has to look away from. “Regulus—”
“No,” he repeats, a lot firmer this time. “I’m not—I can’t, James. I’m sorry, I really am, but I just can’t.”
Regulus doesn’t stick around to hear James’ response, or watch his reaction. He moves away from him, legs shaky but still managing to support his weight, and he exits the ring without daring to glance back.
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sloppysequinz · 3 months
Text
Alcoholic Boss Babe Commits HR Violation
Your boss is beloved. Warm, kind, supportive, a mama bear for the whole unit. So maybe you have a little crush. She dresses smart but she can’t hide her body is soft, just your type. The stern clicking of high heels paired with a rosy round face makes you daydream about calling her mommy sometimes.
Then one day, she’s leaning over your shoulder as you show her something on your computer, and you freeze. You swear you smell alcohol on her breath. Is it just your imagination. You sneak a look at her. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are bright, she’s steadying herself on both your chair and the wall of the cubicle. There’s no way you’re imagining this. It makes your blood rush.
Slowly but surely, you notice more and more…incidents. She walks by one day and her ass is swaying dangerously in its tight pencil skirt, heels wobbling. She gulps from a cup of coffee and then slurs a few words trying to explain something to you. She flushes, embarrassed, and so do you.
As you notice more and more signs that your boss is a proper alcoholic, you notice other things too. She’s gotten more touchy lately—absentmindedly sliding a hand through your hair when she stands up from you showing her something, running her grip down your arm and laughing when she hands over materials. You feel a little like a piece of meat in her alcohol-brightened eyes, but it makes you feel hot and breathless.
Then one day, you have to stay to work late on something. It’s just you and her in the building. You step into her office to hand something in and stop in your tracks. The air smells of booze, there’s a bottle of vodka just sitting open on her desk. Her face is flushed and her clothing is in mild disarray, you can see more of her soft pretty body than usual.
Before you can say anything, she’s on her feet and backing you into the wall. She runs her hands over your face, your chest, making you squeak in surprise and drop your papers. She laughs and stumbles slightly, winding up with your back to the wall and her hands on either side of you, pressing hard against you.
She leans up to your ear and begins to whisper, words slurred together as she rambles. About how you’re just too sweet, too pretty. It’s against the rules to touch her underlings but when you blush like that she just wants to violate you so badly. You’ve been driving her crazy, can’t you see? This is your fault, I can’t help it, you’re so pretty baby, I just want to touch you.
As she confesses these vile, slurred fantasies her hands are all over you. One over your pants, rubbing eagerly, the other up your shirt, tracing your belly and then finding your nipples, tweaking one of them hard. You squeak and that causes her to grin wolfishly and stop rambling. She leans down and bites your neck and you can’t help but moan. She swears and starts pulling her skirt up, rambling again.
“I only drinks like this because I’m stresshed baby. I just need some…stress relief. Fuck, you moan soooo pretty. Pleashe baby, just let me take it out on you. It’ll allll be better then, promise. Promise. Just be good for me.”
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honey-milk-depresso · 3 months
Note
Hi can you do where reader is held captive by batman and jason is frantically searching for reader and was found and is rescued from batman.
This batman is a bit selfish 😒.Can you make it angst pls but they get a good ending.
Sorry if this is to much to ask 😅.hope you have a great day or night 👍.
Like an imposter Batman?? I wasn’t quite sure what to make out of this so I hope you don’t mind an imposter Batman holding the reader captive. 😭
⋙l o a d i n g…
loading completed!✓ …━━━━━☆
┏ ⋙A Desperate Rescue- Red Hood x Reader┛
***Warning: Kidnapping, Cussing, Violence but written vaguely, Gun shots cuz Jason, Angst (?) with a good ending, idk wtf I’m doing-
♧…━━━━━☆
You didn’t quite know what to expect when the Batman appeared. Jason had told you before: it was the rich, billionaire CEO Bruce Wayne under that mask and so happened to be his father (in a sense).
…Until he gave you that unsettling grin when you followed him to the alleyway where you realised this wasn’t Batman.
“H-Hey! Let me go!” You yelled, trying your best to scream and shout for someone to help you but “Batman” place his hand over your mouth to silence you as you flailed and kick your arms to break free but to no avail.
Your only last hope was clicking onto that Batsignal Jason gave you in that back pocket of your jeans before “Batman” knocked you out as everything went to black.
♧…━━━━━☆
What the hell? What the fuck?
Jason was running through the dark corridors of this maze of a room, feet hurrying down each path only to a dead end before he had to retrace he ran in a different path. It was dizzying, tiring and confusing, especially since he didn’t even know which way was which.
All the Batsignal told him was that you’re stuck in some abandoned warehouse you’re in trouble. He didn’t think it’ll be this hard to find you.
Jason was panicking: heartbeat skyrocketing, palms sweaty, forehead perspiring with a thin layer of cold sweat as his knees felt weak even if he was running as fast as he can. Anything can happen to you if he doesn’t reach wherever you are on time. You could be killed, taken away to some unknown place or even… Jason doesn’t want to think about it other than he needs to find you.
Desperately.
The multiple doors that led to no where made him cuss every time as Jason was frantically searching for you all over the place. Finally, he heard it.
“Let me go—!”
The faint muffle from a door made him instantly knew you were there. He didn’t hesitate to kick down the door to come face to face with the masked crusader, but he knew better that this isn’t Batman. The whited eyes of his red helmet narrowed, the irises hidden behind shortened to slits as he grew furious at this imposter of Batman smirking at him.
Without saying a word, he kicked his hands away from your tied up body, ripping the ropes that bind your hands swiftly yet carefully as to not hurt you. He placed his jacket over your head and told you gruffly:
“I need you to cover your eyes and ears for me, okay sweetheart?”
You complied, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your ears as you heard the faint sounds of fists punching and gun shots, the ground very subtly shaking. Or maybe that’s you shaking, you weren’t quite sure anymore.
Slowly, a hand touched your head and you quickly turned around but calmed down when you saw it was Jason who had taken his helmet off to look at you with soft, emerald green eyes, black tuff of hair with the white strands from his bangs sweaty and slightly sticking to his skin that you still found charming.
“Did he hurt you?” He asked softly, gently placing his two hands on either side of your shoulders as he assessed for any injuries, eyes mostly trailing back to your face.
You smiled softly, shaking your head. “No… I’m okay.”
Jason sighed with relief, wrapping his arms around you close.
He’s not gonna let you go anytime soon.
♧…━━━━━☆
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cur-sedd · 5 months
Text
ᴜʜ ᴏʜ! .+:。゚☆
gmiggle, ty for the love on my gyu posttt <33 so here is another smut with our beloved bbg, jjunie hehe MDNI!! AGELESS, BLANKS DNI!! nsfw content below ╰┈➤warnings: fem!reader x fwb!yeonjun, choking a bit ig, degradation, name calling (slut, filthy girl), objectification (?), possesive!yeonjun, toxic-ish too, spanking, think thats it? lemme know if i missed anything <3 ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆
You kept glancing back, feeling two holes burn at the back of your head with such burn. Look, you and Yeonjun were nothing official just in a regular friends with benefits situation. See! Nothing special. But why was Yeonjun giving you such dirty looks when you talked to another person, giggling. Even looking at them with those big eyes of yours makes him fuel up with anger.. You should only look at him like that, why are you going out of your way to look at others the same way?? Its pissed Yeonjun off when you even touched anyone but him. Playful shoves, gently hitting, maybe even playing with that person's clothes. Yeonjun rolled his eyes, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek before letting out a soft scoff. The fucking chances you see each other at the ONE house party you decided to go to. Well, better make the most of it. You hum, talking to your friend when a large hand grabbed your wrist, dragging you away. You yelped slightly, shouting out to your “friend” to ‘wait right there’ and ‘it’ll only take a minute, i’ll be back soon’ As Yeonjun rolled his eyes, knowing damn well you won't. Yeonjun found a random bedroom and shoved you in there, earning himself a stink eye from you. “Whats your problem, I was talking to-” “Nuh uh, whats yours? Talking to other people, in front of me? What’re you trying to get at here?” Yeonjun spoke, looking you up and down. A scoff leaving his mouth before he looked away, a hand going up to his waist while the other going to rub his hooded eyes. “And you wore that too, god are you just looking for attention you slut?” Yeonjun continued, now walking up towards you. You click your tongue and move back instinctively, feeling like prey in a predator’s view. His snarky comments always annoyed you, but god why did you feel so turned on by them. “Get that fucking stick out of your ass,” You started, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms, returning that up and down look. “You're actually so annoying, ‘m not looking for-” You were silenced quickly as Yeonjun crashed his lips against yours, his hands guiding you to continue walking back until the back of your thighs stopped at a wooden bed frame. His kiss was hungry, possessive almost. When you stopped, Yeonjun continued to make his advances. His kisses getting messier and sloppier by the second, hands roaming all over those tight clothes which hugged all of your shapes. You groan a bit as Yeonjun pulls back, your lipstick now transferred onto his lips. Yeonjun looked down at you, eating at you with those eyes. God, those fucking eyes. You look to your side a bit before clicking your tongue once again. He always got the best of you. The red mark on your ass already got deeper in color as Yeonjun’s hand landed on it once again, causing you to moan out. Your fingers turned white at the sheer grip on the sheets, curses leaving your lips as Yeonjun pounded into you. Your voice vibrated after ever harsh and quick thrust, digging your face into the pillow to muffle those angelic sounds coming out of your mouth. “Mm-mm, if you are gonna be a slut i want everyone to hear you.” Yeonjun grunted, one hand situated at your waist to keep you steady as the other reached for your neck, lifting your head up. You let out a large, choked sob, tears of mascara running down your red face. “Mhm, yeah let those noises out. Feels so good huh, got my cock filling you all up, like the filthy girl you are, hm” Yeonjun teased as your back arched, causing him to go deeper inside your drooling pussy. “f-fuck! too much, t’much jjunie” You squeaked out but it was no use. Yeonjun was going to use you like a fucking toy. His grip around your waist tightened as his thrust grew even harder, both of your moans filling up the room. Wanna act bad, act like a stupid slut? then here are the consequences !! (≧▽≦)
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nishik1 · 11 months
Text
you jealous, nishimura? — does she like him? (smau + written)
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warnings: NOT PROOF READ, this chapter is mainly written (im sorry 😭)
wc:903!!
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“is it just me or has Niki been acting a little off today?” Heeseung says, causing everyone to look over to the boy to the tall boy who is sitting in the corner scowling as he watches you talk to Kai from across the studio.
“its nothing, he’s just jealous is all.” answered Sunghoon as he looked away from the boy and back at his phone.
“jealous? why?” Sunoo asks, tilting his head slightly and furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
“because he saw Kai ask for Y/N’s number and now hes being all salty about it” Sunghoon explained, earning an “ohh” from all of the boys.
“did you say anything to him about it?” Jake asks as he sets his phone down next to him, looking directly at Sunghoon.
“I asked if he was jealous and if he liked her, to both which he said no. we all know thats a lie though, he makes it too obvious” Sunghoon chuckles, remembering the look on Niki’s face. His clenched jaw and intense stare practically carved into his mind. Niki wasn’t typically the jealous type, so when he is jealous, its usually a sight to see.
“he’s just in denial, I mean him and Y/N have been friends ever since he moved here. i mean ever since they were kids most of the time he spent with her he probably thought of her as a sister. but now that they’re older he’s starting to realize he doesn’t view her as a sister anymore.” Jay says, causing Heeseung to laugh.
“you’re saying that like they’re not just 17 years old.” Jake laughs.
“hey Sunghoon, do you think Y/N likes Kai?” Jungwon asks, earning everyone’s attention.
“I’m not sure, I haven’t seen them talking until today.” he shrugs his shoulders, earning a soft groan from Jungwon.
“well do you think she likes Niki?” Jungwon sighs.
“I’m not entirely sure about that either. the way she looks at him definitely isn’t the way best friends look at each other but she seems completely oblivious to this. I saw the way she looked at Kai though, theres definitely a difference but I can’t tell what it is.” Sunghoon says.
“and you think Niki likes Y/N, right?”
“oh not a doubt about it, he’s just totally in denial and won’t accept his feelings. I mean honestly, I’m okay with him dating Y/N. I trust him, he knows her probably even better than I do. I know he’ll take care of her, and if he hurts her then I’ll fight him.” Sunghoon says with a soft smile on his face as he looks over to Niki who is no longer scowling, but who is now furiously typing on his phone.
“you’re not wrong about the being in denial part. It’s so painfully obvious he likes her but he just doesn’t want to accept it. if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought they were dating.”
Heeseung says, agreeing with what Sunghoon said.“do you think he’d ever ask her out?”
“i think this is the first time he’s ever felt this way about my sister so it’ll take him some time to realize he likes her. but eventually, yeah i think so. i mean just the way they treat each other is enough proof for me.” Sunghoon says as he fishes his phone out of his pocket before turning it on to mindlessly scroll on social media. an amused smile growing on his face as he scrolls a bit.
“so you guys think it’d be a bad idea for us to try to get them together?” Jake asks, shoving a piece of candy into his mouth.
“maybe, i say we just let them figure it out themselves.” Jay shrugs his shoulders.
“Sunghoon what are you smiling about?” Heeseung says, peaking over Sunghoons shoulder to reveal a thread of tweets from Niki.
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upon seeing the last two replies, Sunghoon whips his head around to look at you and Kai, who’s legs were barely touching, causing him to click his tongue at look back onto his phone.
“He has another private that he didnt tell us about?” Jake asks, slightly offended.
“He made it like two days ago, chill.”
“oh look, theres more.” Sunghoon says, clicking on the newest thread.
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“hey guys, check this out. I think he’s finally starting to understand what’s happening.” Sunghoon says with a soft smirk, showing the thread to the boys who are sitting with him, causing them to giggle at Niki, who is absolutely down bad for you.
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“hey, you ready to go home?” your brother asks, walking up to you with a small smile on his face.
“yeah, lemme go get Riki.” you say, getting up from the couch to go find your best friend. Sunghoon watches with a smile as you run up to your best friend. the boy who was once upset not to long ago has a wide smile on his face, just because of you.
“hey ‘Ki! you still wanna hang out later?” you say with a wide smile on your face as you wrap your arms around Niki, giving him a big hug.
“yeah of course, you wanna wear our matching outfits?” Niki asks, looking down at you as he wraps his arms around you.
“ew! match? with you? NEVER!” you say sarcastically as he pushes you away and flicks your forehead.
“oh whatever. now come on, Sunghoon Hyung is waiting!” Niki says, quickly dashing away from you as you scream at him for leaving you behind.
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NOTES- this chapter is honestly really chaotic and im worried it makes no sense 😭😭 BUT OUR BOY NIKI IS STARTING TO UNDERSTAND HIS FEELINGS A LITTLE BETTER WOOHOOO!! also im sorry this chapter is mainly written 😭 i swear the next one will be a normal smau
taglist: open! @en-chantedtomeetyou @st4rfiles @txtbrainrot
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kissingghouls · 7 months
Text
The Prince
Part Four: The Herbalist (ao3 // part one // part two // part three)
Vampire Terzo x F!Reader, Special Guest Star Primo
Summary: You and Terzo hit the road and head for Primo's. It goes about as well as expected. (13000 words [I know. I have a problem] and not beta read because frankly, that's a lot to ask.)
Tags/Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, horror themes, vampire violence, neck biting, blood, blood drinking, major character injury, hurt/comfort, SMUT, and more tags on ao3
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banner by my dear dear friendo @ramblingoak. Thank you for absolutely everything.
There was nothing around for miles. It was just you and an endless expanse of highway etched into the bright green splatters of forest that only seemed to exist between cities anymore. You’d spent the last several hours speeding past fireworks warehouses and billboards for adult video stores in the absolute middle of nowhere. A cheap pair of sunglasses purchased at a truck stop larger than the high school you’d attended kept the sun out of your eyes. The pair you purchased for Terzo rattled away in the cupholder next to your knee.
Following a short conversation on the nature of werewolves, he had moved into the backseat and passed out. He curled up tight like a cat trying to make itself as small as possible, a cheap blanket pulled over his head to keep the sun off his face. He’d been unusually quiet for most of the drive, so it didn’t surprise you too much when he crawled back there with little more than a mumbled explanation. It wouldn’t have bothered you, but quiet was so out of the ordinary for him you couldn’t help but worry.
The hours of sitting combined with the soft drone of the engine and the otherwise silent drive did nothing to help you stay awake. After what felt like an eternity, you finally found a place with the right combination of populated enough to go unnoticed and shitty enough to be ignored.
Terzo didn’t move at all as you threw the car into park, groaning at the dull ache in your knees. You reached over, tucking the blanket tighter around his shoulders as he shivered.
“Terzo? I’ll be right back, ok?”
When he didn’t respond you forced yourself out of the car. The least you could do was get him to a bed.
You exchanged a few words and some cash with the motel manager, finding another delicate balance between don’t wanna know and paid enough to forget. People in places like these had seen enough already, heard every sad story or fake name anyone could come up with and you didn’t have the time or energy to pretend to explain away the bruises on your face.
With a room secured, you ducked into the truck stop next door to grab supplies. Your skin itched as soon as the car left your field of vision, but you figured it was better to keep Terzo and his blood soaked sweater far from view. You thumbed through a few novelty t-shirts and souvenir hats as you made your way around and loaded up on snacks and water. There was no Michelin star, but the truck stop offered something resembling hot food and you weren’t about to be picky.
Terzo stirred, grumbling softly as you settled back into the car and parked closer to the room you’d been assigned.
“Bellezza?” he asked, his voice weak and slightly hoarse. “Where are we?”
“Uh, not sure exactly. But it’ll do for the next few hours at least. C’mon, sexy,” you chirped as you hopped out, trying to keep the mood light. You tucked the plastic bag under your arm, balancing the snacks and water on your hip as you popped open the door by his head.
He sat up and frowned, wincing as the sun shone brightly behind you. “How far?”
“A few feet, maybe ten? We’re just right there,” you offered, pointing at the door to the room.
“Bellezza, I need you to go open the door.”
You shrugged and turned the keycard over in your hand as you walked toward the door. The lock had barely clicked out of place, its electronic parts grinding through years of overuse to flash that green light when Terzo rushed past, shoulder-checking you at inhuman speed. You followed him in, opening your mouth to complain and letting it snap shut when you realized he was cowering in the corner. Moving as fast as you could, you kicked the door shut and spun around to pull the curtains closed.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Terzo, are you—”
“I’m fine, cara,” he insisted, cutting you off too quickly to really be believable. “Just a little weak is all.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Just to rest,” he replied with a light laugh. His knees popped loudly as he stood, the long drive having no mercy for his joints either. He looked around the dusty room, a sly smile spreading across his face. “One bed, eh? You are warming up to me.”
“Are you sure you’re ok?”
He crawled up on the bed with a sigh and shot you his best attempt at a serious look. “I’ll be better when you join me, bellezza.”
You rolled your eyes at his suggestive eyebrow raise and placed the overstuffed plastic bag on the table by the window. After poking around for a moment, you found the shirt you’d grabbed for him inside.
“Take that off,” you said and motioned to your once prized and now disgusting sweater.
He grinned as he whipped the bloody shirt across the room. “Should we discuss a safe word—ah!”
The balled-up t-shirt hit him right between the eyes.
“What is this?” he asked, pouting slightly.
“It’s for you to wear.”
His pout turned into a deep frown as he examined the shirt. “Bellezza…”
“Yes?” you replied innocently.
“This is funny to you?” he asked, pulling the thing over his head.
It was ill-fitting in so many ways, far too short and too baggy for his frame with a stretched-out neckline and sleeves that went to his elbows. But the thing that had made you buy him that shirt was spelled out right there on his chest in huge letters.
Garlic Bread Slut.
You bit your lip and turned away from him. “Nope. Not funny at all.”
His arms slid around your waist as he pressed himself against your back and leaned in close to your ear. “Oh, I think you like it.”
“I think you have a really odd way of resting,” you countered as you dug through the bag for your food. “You should lay down.”
“Such a tease,” he chided as he released you, but kept his chin on your shoulder. “What in Satan’s name is that?”
You shrugged and tossed the container’s plastic lid onto the table. “I think its spaghetti?”
“No, bellezza. That is an abomination. Please tell me you’re not going to eat that.”
“What? You don’t wanna share?”
He grumbled as he moved away from you to settle on the bed. You climbed up on the other side, folding your legs under yourself as you poked at your subpar mystery pasta. Terzo curled up next to you, his eyes heavy as he watched you chewing slowly. With a soft smile, you turned and handed him the remote.
“What’s this for?”
“You should find one of your movies so you can sleep,” you suggested.
“But…you hate those.”
“Yeah, but you don’t,” you replied as you reached over him to grab a serving of disturbingly cold garlic bread. “Hey, does garlic—”
“No,” he said quickly and stole a bite from your bread. “Oh, that’s awful.”
“Serves you right, you little shit,” you teased with a laugh.
He frowned deeply as he chewed, clearly regretting his decision. He flipped through a few channels to distract himself, occasionally making a disgusted face and sticking his tongue out much like a child would. He managed to find a cable version of some romcom you vaguely remembered, something with lead actors the general population would’ve known instantly. He could probably recite their entire filmographies, but you were stuck squinting at the male actor wondering if his hair had always looked like that.
Around twenty minutes passed, most of them filled with noisy commercials instead of the movie Terzo was trying to watch. It didn’t matter anyway—he could barely keep his eyes open longer than a couple of minutes. Again he mumbled through the excuse that he was just tired, waving you off when you asked.
If he was going to insist that he was fine, you could go on about your business as well. You slipped off the bed and circled back to the bag still laying on the table.
“Where are you going?” he asked, tiredly raising his head the same way a sleepy puppy would.
“To brush my teeth.” You dug the new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste from the bag, waving it around as proof.
“Ah, garlic.”
“Got you one too,” you added with a wink and dropped the brush with the purple handle on his chest as you walked by.
He clutched the packaging like a bridesmaid who just caught the bouquet, sighing dramatically. “Bellezza, I didn’t know you cared!”
“What, about your breath?” you teased. “If I don’t take care of the garlic bread slut, who will?”
He pushed himself up with a grunt. “Cara mia, I’ll take care of you. Twice.”
“Not if you don’t brush your teeth,” you quipped, scrunching your nose at him. You set about brushing your own teeth, watching him drag himself from the bed in the mirror’s reflection. You shot him a little smile before returning to your task and daydreaming about all the sleep you were about to get.
There was a thud behind you, loud and heavy enough to be heard over your efforts. You glanced up at the mirror and realized it was the sound of his body hitting the floor.
You screamed his name and tossed your toothbrush into the sink before rushing over to him. Pulling his head into your lap, you began frantically patting at his face. “C’mon, wake up Terzo,” you begged, tears stinging your eyes. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. No, no, no. Please. Terzo, I don’t know how to help you.”
His eyes fluttered open, unfocused as he looked up at you. He grabbed ahold of your wrist to keep your hand pressed to his face. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. You just—” You stopped short as you gazed down at him. His face was gaunt, the hollows deepening to gather more shadow as you watched helplessly. In the few seconds since you’d left him his skin dulled, turning a lifeless greenish gray under your fingertips. “No, no, no—”
His grip tightened around your wrist. “Bellezza, I need—”
“Yeah, ok.” You nodded quickly and thrust your other wrist in front of his face.
He pushed your hands away and scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over them in his haste. He shook his head, taking several steps backward until he was pressed against the door. “No,” was all he said, his tone firm. “I won’t. Not you.”
“Terzo, I’m not sure we have any other options here—”
“You don’t understand what you’re offering,” he growled, his white eye glowing as he fixed you with a serious look.
“Oh, so you can steal my garlic bread, but you’re too good for my blood?”
“Ragazza sciocca, it’s not that simple!” he shouted.
“Don’t fucking yell at me for trying to help you!” you shouted back.
“You can’t help me. You need to leave.”
“Are you fucking kidding? Terzo, there are still people after us. I’m not going to leave you here like this.”
“I will be fine,” he grunted as he threw himself back on the bed, sinking into the pillows.
“Terzo, stop. You can barely move; you can’t even go outside—”
“I will wait until dark then—” he snapped at you.
“And do what?” you yelled helplessly. “Crawl across the parking lot and hope someone gets close enough? You can’t even walk now; how bad will it be at nightfall? Just get it over with. I’ll be fine.”
He started to laugh, grimacing through the pain. “You really don’t know anything about vampires, do you?”
“That’s not fucking fair—”
He leaned up on his hands and knees, moving toward you slowly. “Bellezza, if you let me do this…” he started softly, averting his eyes to a spot on the carpet. “If I take from you, it will mark you for the rest of your life. Do you understand that? Do you know what that means?”
You shook your head.
He sat back and reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “You and I…there would be…it would mark you as mine, cara.”
“What, like property?” you scoffed.
“No, it’s not as barbaric as that. It’s…there is a bond created—"
“So, everyone you snack on is just yours?”
He shook his head. “That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re different, bellezza.”
You didn’t completely understand what he’d meant, but it hit you like a punch to the gut just the same. You dropped onto the bed, trying and failing to decipher what the fuck he was trying to tell you. “Terzo, I don’t…”
“No one else could touch you,” he added softly, picking at the scratchy duvet. “Which could be good or bad, honestly. But it’s not a thing that can be undone. We would be…tied together for the rest of your natural life. I can’t…I couldn’t force that on you.”
“You’re not forcing anything on me. And anyway, it doesn’t have to be all that. I’m just trying to keep you alive—”
“You’re not listening—”
“Of course I am! There’s some magical force you can’t explain that’s gonna tether me and you if you bite me. Do you realize how fucking ridiculous you sound?”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re arguing with a vampire but go ahead and tell me how ridiculous this all is. You know nothing, bellezza. Nothing about me or others like me.”
“Oh my god, I’m not asking you to turn me—”
“You don’t understand what you’re asking at all! Do you know what any of this costs? The actual cost of playing around with eternal life?”
You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“Everything,” he snapped. “These things you’re so desperate to prove don’t matter to you cost us everything. For hundreds of years I have faced loss after loss after loss. Those hunter friends of yours killed Secondo’s very human girlfriend. Do you understand? That hunter—a girl he hired and trusted stabbed his girlfriend to death in front of us and I—I was powerless to stop it.”
“Terzo, I—”
“They will kill you too,” he said in a deadly serious tone. “They will not hesitate. Do you understand? If I mark you, it will only make things worse for you.” He shook his head, grabbing your hand as he looked back up at you. He tried and failed to blink away a few tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes. “I won’t…I can’t…I cannot watch you die, bellezza.”
You whispered his name as you reached for him, wanting to offer him something—comfort or empathy or at the very least understanding. He pressed a kiss into your palm before leaning into your touch. His skin was cold, dull, lifeless and you knew he was in much worse shape than he would ever admit. You’d started your summer wanting to kill him, but now you were able to see exactly how much it would hurt if he was gone.
“I can’t watch you die either,” you said quietly, choking on your own admission. “So, I guess we’re just going to have to keep saving each other.”
He huffed out a tiny laugh. “What’s a couple more times anyway, eh?”
“Exactly. So, it’s settled then?”
“Bellezza, I don’t think the devil himself could talk you out of something you’ve set your mind to.”
“Pretty sure this isn’t the time for a theology discussion.”
He groaned and rolled his eyes. “That,” he started, struggling to push himself up. “Is the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Good. How do we…do this?”
He shot you a half-smile and motioned for you to join him on the bed, explaining the easiest and most comfortable way for him to drink from you. Building up a small mountain of pillows for him to rest against, you eased him into a better position. It was difficult to see him look so powerless after everything the two of you had been through, but the mood already felt lighter. Both of you were taking a huge risk, but you knew deep down it was the right thing to do for him. You’d been so wrong about so many things, so blind to the most obvious signs, but this one—this glowed neon and warm as the vampire looked up at you adoringly.
You settled into his lap and closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. Despite how much you pushed for this, how much you wanted to do this to help him, it didn’t stop you from being terrified. He brought a hand to your hip and squeezed gently as his own breaths became more labored by the second.
“Will it hurt?” you asked as softly as you could, scared that any noise would break the two of you apart and he would change his mind.
“Bellezza, I would never hurt you,” he admitted in a whisper.
You pressed your forehead to his. “I know.”
You didn’t see his weak smile, your eyes still squeezed tight as he brought a hand to your chin. He smoothed his thumb over your jaw as he coaxed your head to the side and followed the trail down the veins of your neck. You flinched as his lips met your skin, but his teeth didn’t follow as he left soft kisses over the column of your throat. Slowly you felt your body relax against him, your chests pressed together. He locked an arm around your back, his fingers digging into your flesh as the most lascivious moan vibrated through his entire body.
He was right, he hadn’t hurt you. For a few seconds you weren’t quite sure what was happening. You shifted in his lap and a surprised gasp left you as you felt his cock growing thick against you. He whined at your movements struggling to keep you still as your warm, wet blood spilled from his mouth and dribbled down your neck. That seemed to pull you back to the reality of the situation, a dull ache growing where his teeth were pressed into your skin.
His hold got tighter and tighter and it wasn’t until you let out a pitiful whimper that he finally pulled off. He licked at your wounds, hungrily lapping up every drop that dribbled down like futilely trying to fight the sun from melting an ice cream. You slumped against him, heartbeat slowing with each second.
Terzo moved beneath you, easily lifting himself up despite your dead weight. He managed to relax, stretching his legs out so he could fully lay down. He kept you pinned to him, not that you could move even if you’d wanted to. He sucked in a deep breath, your body rising as his chest filled. His body began to grow warm, his complexion slowly returning to its healthy glow under your fingertips.
Weak and tired you rested your head against the new warmth of him, eyelids growing heavier with each slow beat of your heart. A small splotch of your blood stained his t-shirt, enough that the smell of copper seemed to overpower everything. As he carded a hand through your hair, your eyes finally closed.
-x-
Terzo was gone when you woke up.
The motel room was dark and with the TV off the only light came from the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock. You reached for the lamp, your muscles so stiff and sore you could barely lift your hand from the bed. Through dry, cracked lips you muttered his name, wondering if he was just lurking somewhere in the dark, but there was no response.
Everything fucking hurt. Places in your body you didn’t know could even feel pain seemed to scream to life as you pushed yourself up. It was like fire under your skin, the way your fingers would burn as they turn white from cold. A feeling without any sort of warmth. You were freezing, shivering against the motel’s paper-thin blankets and unable to move from your resting place.
Oh, you were going to kill him.
Outside, you could hear someone whistling loudly with no regard for anyone occupying the motel rooms. The door rattled as the old lock croaked out a beep and gave way with a loud click. The whistling only got louder as Terzo strolled in sporting a bare midriff and a delivery bag.
“Well, look who’s finally awake,” he quipped as he saw you sitting up. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I hate you,” you grinded out.
He clicked his tongue. “It’s a good thing I know you don’t mean that.”
You didn’t have a proper comeback for him this time. Your brain had turned to cotton candy with the density of dark matter and your face contorted in pain as you gritted your teeth. Terzo caught you quickly as you swung your legs off the side of the bed in an effort to stand, but you had all the coordination of a baby giraffe on ice.
“You need to stay put, bellezza.”
“Terzo, we have to get out of here,” you mumbled tiredly.
“Oh no, mia principessa. We are not going anywhere until you get your strength back.”
“Well, whose fault is that?”
He shot you a look as he dropped the bag on the table. “Yours.”
You forced yourself to your feet and cast him an equally annoyed glare. “Fuck you.”
“Oh, we’re not doing that until you get your strength back either,” he teased, wiggling his slender hips at you. The sharp angle of bone and a soft trail of dark hair was on prominent display as he continued to mime the very same motions he’d used on you a few times now. 
“Ugh, stop,” you whined, feigning disgust. “Where the fuck did you even find scissors?”
“Oh, the shirt needed some modifications. I hope you don’t mind.”
You pressed your fingers against your temples. “You left me in here like this because you needed another crop top?”
“Of course not! That was more of an opportunity that just presented itself. I left because I knew you would need a few things.” He frowned at you and guided you backwards until you sat on the bed. “You shouldn’t stand for a while.”
“And you shouldn’t be running around some random truck stop in the middle of nowhere!”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, pulling into a smirk. “Bellezza, were you worried about me?”
You shoved him as hard as you could in your weakened state. “Yes, you idiot!”
“Hey,” he pouted.
“Terzo, I have spent the last few days trying to keep you safe. I let you bite me for fuck’s sake! Is this just one big game to you?” you asked accusingly, not having the strength to keep the tears brimming in your eyes under control.
He dropped onto the bed and pulled you into his lap, cradling you as he spoke. “Tesoro, no. None of this is a game, ok? None of it.”
You gasped for breath between sobs as a sharp, searing pain ripped through your neck. It was the worst thing you’d ever felt, like broken glass and fire had replaced you blood. You dug your nails into Terzo’s arm, pressing harder with each wave of hurt. The smell of copper tinged the air.
“Tesorino, you’re ok,” he cooed, smoothing a hand down your back. “I need you to breathe, sì? Slowly,” he instructed as he reached for the bag. He kept an arm locked around you as he retrieved a small, white cardboard box. He ripped it open with his teeth, unwilling to let you go even for a second.
“There we go,” he said softly as your breathing returned to normal. He adjusted you in his lap, turning you just so and firmly pressed a gauze pad to your throat. He held it in place as he leaned down and let his lips brush gently across your forehead. “I’m so sorry, bellezza. This is all my fault.”
“Yeah, you really fucked up by falling on that poisoned-tipped dagger,” you grumbled.
“It was a bowie knife, mia cara. Feels different.”
“You make a habit of getting stabbed?”
“Once or twice,” he replied dismissively. “But that is a story for another time. I should have been here when you woke up.”
“It’s fine—”
“Bellezza, this pain,” he paused to flex his fingers around the gauze. “That is your bite reopening. You have to be more careful. You are, eh, delicate while you’re healing.”
“Great,” you groaned. “Nothing I love more than feeling delicate.”
“I promise it’s not forever, cara. But you might be a little more…eh, it’s not just a physical weakness, you’ll feel. You will probably feel quite emotional too. But that’s nothing a little chocolate can’t fix,” he adds with a nervous laugh.
“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, I will kill you in your sleep.”
“Cocoa is good for your brain, tesorino.” He shook his head. “And I thought you were done trying to kill me, hmm?”
“I guess,” you managed through a yawn.
He dropped another kiss on your forehead before he slid you from his lap. He brought your hand to your neck, your fingers replacing his so he could tear through that silly delivery bag with reckless abandon. Piece by piece he revealed his truck stop haul. Somehow, he had been able to find things you hadn’t even thought of.
He knelt in front of you and gently helped you lift your hand and the bloody gauze away. Biting his lip in concentration, he leaned in to replace the bandage and secured it with a healthy amount of medical tape around the edges. When he was satisfied, he slipped his arms under you and shifted your body back against the pile of pillows you had made for him. With a smug grin he finally handed you a heavy chocolate bar in the fanciest wrapper you’d ever seen.
“The hell is this?”
“Chocolate?”
“Uh-huh. And where did it come from?”
“Ah,” he sang and bit into a chocolate bar of his own. “Would you like to hear about my day, bellezza?”
You tried to stay calm. “Please, please tell me you didn’t use your credit cards.”
“You worry too much.” He planted a patronizing kiss on the top of your head. “But, no, I did not use the credit cards. After I was restored, I took a little walk around the area. I knew you would need to rest and to eat and that you’d need bandages and probably a couple of good excuses, so I wandered into the little shop with the horrible ‘spaghetti.’” He paused to make a disgusted face, a shiver going through his body. “And do you know what I found?”
“Your flair for the dramatic?”
“I’d have to lose it first,” he teased and raised an eyebrow at you. “I found a very helpful young man—well, I say young, but I believe he said he was about 200—”
“Terzo? Did you befriend another werewolf?”
“What? No, I—are you going to let me tell my story, cara?” he huffed.
You lazily mimed zipping your mouth shut.
“Grazie mille. Where was I? Oh! The helpful young vampire let me borrow some scissors for the t-shirt and taught me how to use something called an app. From his phone, don’t worry. Bellezza, did you know you can just…have food brought to you?”
You bit your tongue as his face lit up and he presented you with an insane amount of takeout containers.
“I wasn’t sure what you might want when you woke up, but, eh, Robert said that wasn’t really an issue around here. So, there’s a little bit of everything I could find, plus the chocolate bars.”
“Terzo?”
“I didn’t use cards. I—”
“Thank you,” you whispered as tears spilled down your face again.
He shot you a worried look as you began to weep openly. “Cara, you…you said we had to keep saving each other.”
You nodded. “I did say that.”
“Well, it was my turn. And I am not nursing you back to health with salt and those disgusting energy drinks Omega is addicted to, ok? Not for mia principessa.”
He settled next to you on the bed and flipped through the TV as you ate small bites from the container than smelled the best. It wasn’t the same pain, but swallowing your food hadn’t felt great and you were growing tired fast. He let you rest against his shoulder, eyelids drooping as you began to drift. He made a tiny, happy sound as he found a channel that featured men on skates.
“Bellezza, look! This is the one you like, sì? The violence?”
You cuddled closer to him, warming yourself with the heat of his body as you glanced at the TV. There was a singular man gliding beautifully over the ice before pushing off into a jump. “This is men’s figure skating.”
“Oh. It’s not the same?”
You shook your head as you leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “But I like this too.”
-x-
Morning arrived too quickly with a harsh light that cracked through the edge of the dingy curtains and revealed just how much dust was floating around that tiny motel room. Terzo held you as close as possible, the rough blankets tangled around his hips and yours, almost tying the two of you together. He had draped himself over you sometime last night between a sleepy discussion of the differences of technical and artistic scoring and deciding when the two of you should plan to leave for Primo’s house. You were too exhausted to argue for your own space in the bed, much less your own plans for moving forward. So, you pressed into his side, accepting the comfort of him and fell asleep in his arms.
It was beginning to feel natural somehow, like waking up next to Terzo Emeritus was just something you did every day. Part of a routine that should have worried you or even scared you, but it just…didn’t. There was no real way to explain it to yourself. As much as the rational, trained vampire hunter part of you had never, ever imagined anything like this would happen to you it didn’t feel wrong. Your only worry was the dull throb of the bite wound pulsing in your neck.
You shifted around, trying to lessen the pressure on the spot. His hold on you tightened with a tired whine and a whispered “don’t” falling from his lips.
“We should get up,” you suggested.
“Not yet, mia principessa. Please?”
There was something about the way he said it, something in the tone that made the air leave your lungs. But this time it felt different—his words didn’t frighten you, didn’t carry a weight that you couldn’t understand. There was no desire to run and hide, no itch under your skin that begged you to push him away. The voice in your head that usually screamed these kinds of things were wrong and too much was silent for once. You were content where you were, happy to lay next to him even if he didn’t give you any room. Almost as though you wanted to be there.
With a yawn, you agreed to let him sleep a little longer.
An hour later he finally dragged himself to a seated position, dramatically stretching and grunting in a way you’d come to expect. He resigned himself to getting dressed, pausing to not so subtly watch you move through the room as you went to shower and change into the novelty “Roadkill Café” t-shirt he’d bought for you while you were passed out. You brushed your teeth together, each of you eyeing the other in the mirror with curiosity and shy smiles.
There was something so normal about the whole thing. Tiny moments of domesticity and the sweetness of a simple touch. The idiot had even kissed you while globs of toothpaste foamed around his mouth, leaving a trail of mint and spit on your cheek. It allowed you to forget the rest of the world, to forget that outside this room people were actively trying to kill both of you. With that thought, the spell was broken, and you began to pick at your cuticles while he busied himself with the mass of food containers he brought back.
“You ok, bellezza?” he asked carefully, but he couldn’t mask the concern on his face.
You forced a smile and stood, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Just ready to get going, I guess.”
He brought a hand to your face, softly caressing your cheek before turning it over to press the back to your forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. I just…I think we’re stayed here way too long.”
“We didn’t really have a choice.”
“No, but we should get going before someone figures out where we are—or where we’re going.”
He gave you an easy shrug. “I’ll drive.”
You stifled a laugh. “You?”
“Bellezza, you wound me. It may have been a while, but I am perfectly capable of operating a car.”
“You opened the sunroof in the rain.”
“True, but that has nothing to do with driving.”
“Go on then.”
He did not remember how to drive. After a few panic inducing laps around the parking lot, Terzo grew more comfortable behind the wheel while you adjusted your seatbelt every ten seconds to make sure it was still secure. The interstate was a mostly deserted straight shot and after about 50 miles you let yourself begin to worry about something else.
You would never say it out loud, but the closer you got to Primo’s house the more your nerves grew. You had spent your entire life researching the Emeritus vampires, seeking out whatever weaknesses one could find to exploit to destroy them. A lifetime built on tearing their lives apart piece by tiny piece had also instilled a healthy fear and respect for the eldest brother.
There was a reason no one went after Primo.
If the last few weeks had taught you anything, it was that you knew nothing. You couldn’t begin to understand the ins and outs of vampire politics during your training. There was a system designed in the shadows and kept secret from those who would hunt them down. No one had ever gotten close enough to figure out exactly how it all worked—at least no one who made it back alive. But the vampires had made it very clear throughout the last century especially that there was one vampire at the head of the table: Primo Emeritus.
It was a name many vampires had chosen to die for rather than betray and you couldn’t help wondering what it was all for.
Somewhere past a washed out exit sign, Terzo turned onto a desolate back road long neglected by the county. The strip of faded asphalt was scarred with deep cracks and potholes overrun by weeds and grass, cutting its way through fields on either side that seemed to stretch past the horizon. Decrepit, abandoned homes occasionally dotted the countryside. Glass shards hung from rotting windowpanes like broken teeth below collapsed roofs and sagging bricks. It was a graveyard of a forgotten community, a place where nothing but underbrush seemed to thrive.
“Terzo, are you sure you’re going the right way?” you asked as your stomach tied itself into a million knots. It didn’t look like anyone would be out here—living or dead.
“Oh yes, principessa. Trust me.”
It would have been a lot easier to do if it didn’t look like the kind of backdrop even horror movies avoided.
He slowed the car and guided it to the left at a broken stone marker. A barely noticeable overgrown gravel drive slipped between the trees, framed by an old iron gate left open and consumed by rust. An elaborate decorative E on the gate was held in place by little more than patina.
“Told you,” Terzo teased as he pointed at the gate. He across the console to place a hand on your knee and gave it a comforting squeeze. “There’s no reason to be scared, bellezza. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
That only made your heartbeat faster.  
At the crest of a small hill, a house came into view. Unlike the other homes you had passed on the way in this one was quite clearly lived in and loved. The stone façade of the storybook cottage was completely covered in thick greenery and climbing roses, reclaimed by its surroundings. The limbs and leaves had been trimmed away from the rounded windows, each of them left open to let the summer breeze pass through. A scene of delicate flowers made from colorful stained glass hung in the frame of the old oak door—a burst of brightness that set a clear division between the owner of this home and the one who’d built Meliora house.
Terzo parked close to the house, stopping behind a sleek black classic car. Something from the 50’s you guessed. The shine and smooth shapes of the vintage Cadillac made Terzo’s modern machine look like a dumpy toaster in comparison.
There was a flash of movement past the front window as the two of you climbed out of the car. You took the opportunity to stretch your legs, pacing a short length of driveway while Terzo stared up at the house with his hands on his hips. It was eerily quiet, save for the gravel crunching under your feet and the billions of insects singing in the woods. The sun broke through the surrounding trees and showered beams of light over the neat rows of flowers that lined a stone wall. Vibrant hues and shapes buzzed with fat little honeybees happily jumping from bloom to bloom. You couldn’t help but think of this place as some beautiful timeless utopia, somehow untouched by all the decay and abandonment of the surrounding area.
Vampires always lived in the weirdest places.
A tall, older gentleman emerged from the front door and stepped outside with a commanding, regal presence. He didn’t even need to open his mouth to cause the two of you to stop in your tracks and look up at him. Crooked black lines cut his face into the signature skull mask the brothers all wore. The jagged shape of it did nothing to soften his appearance. His eyes, mismatched just like Terzo’s, scanned the lawn and squinted down at you. A deep red robe made of what had to be silk hung off his shoulders, framing him like a holy man in designer vestments. While his look exuded power above anything, there was still the frail body of an elderly man staring back at you.
“Primo!” Terzo shouted a little too loudly. “You look like shit.”
Primo narrowed his eyes at the younger man. “What does your shirt say?”
Terzo shot you a nasty look as you clasped your hands over your mouth to cover your laughter. “It’s, eh, a little joke between the two of us,” he explained with a wave of his hand. “This one thinks she’s funny.”
Primo took a long look at both of you before he stepped to the side with a sigh. “You might as well come in.”
The smell of fresh eucalyptus and mint wafted through the air as you stepped inside the vampire’s home. Worn, old boards creaked beneath your feet as Primo led you to the main living room. The house was filled with warm wood carved into intricate shapes that framed each doorway and the numerous bookcases nestled inside the walls. There was a cozy nook built under the front window, an old volume left open atop a soft blanket. Shelves held a carefully placed collection of antiques, old dry leather bound books with ancient pages, and rusted old trinkets and tools. An expensive telescope was pointed toward a south-facing window surrounded by two thriving palms plants. Meliora House had been filled with things no one ever used, but Primo’s things seemed to serve a purpose.
Terzo flung himself unceremoniously onto the vintage velvet sofa against the wall, ignoring the cracking sound it made and the pointed look his brother gave him.
“Well then, what have you done this time?” Primo asked in an accusing tone, his white hair falling over his shoulders as he angled himself between the two of you.
“Oh, what I can’t stop by to say hello?”
Primo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fratellino, you have done many—and I do mean many stupid things in your lifetimes, but I had never dared to hope you wouldn’t bring a hunter to my door.”
You swallowed hard as Terzo began to fidget nervously. “She’s, eh…” he started, waving a hand as he looked at you. “You could say she’s had a change of heart.”
“Is that so?” he asked, eyeing you curiously.
“I managed to get here without killing him,” you offered.
Primo laughed loudly, his voice echoing off the support beams above. “That is a true challenge indeed!” he hollered and slapped his knee. As his laughter died down, he turned and gave you a soft, genuine smile. He offered his hand. “Come with me, piccolina.”
“Hey!” Terzo shouted as you accepted Primo’s hand. “What about me?”
Primo shrugged. “Go fix your face, stronzio.”
“Testa di cazzo,” he grumbled and made a rude gesture as he stalked off toward the back of the house.
The old vampire kept your hand in his, gently leading you through his home as gracefully as he would have led you through a waltz. You had seen and fell prey to Terzo’s charms immediately, but it was becoming clear where he’d learned it all. Primo didn’t seem to waste words or time, unafraid to call out his younger brother’s missteps or identify you for what you were. It was clear he was not threatened by you—you never would have made it into the house if that was the case, but he had made a strategic move to separate you from Terzo. His brother had sensed it too.
At the edge of the cottage was a small kitchen lined with open shelves and cabinets with glass doors. Each one was absolutely packed with jars of all sizes and filled with various herbs and tinctures in nearly as many colors as the stained glass window above the sink. There was a faint scent of incense, something woody yet soft with a hint of smoke and clove that made the space feel impossibly cozy.
A vase of fresh cut flowers sat on a small table in the center of the room, its chairs tucked neatly in place. He pulled one out for you and gestured for you to take a seat.
“Are you hungry, piccolina?” he asked instead of joining you at the table.
“Oh no, I’m fine,” you lied as your stomach growled and gave you away.
He laughed heartily, flashing sharp fangs as he swiped a hand under his wrinkled eye. “I’m afraid it is not very easy to lie to me.”
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to be polite.”
He tilted his head, another soft, fond smile gracing his lips. “He’s marked you.”
“What?” you snapped, your hand going straight to your bandage as you nearly jumped from your chair. “How did you—”
“Piccolina, please sit. Neither of you are in trouble. Would you care for some tea?”
“I—uh—"
He turned without waiting for an answer and busied himself with filling a kettle at the sink. He hummed as he moved, settling the kettle on the stove before poking through the pots and pans that hung just above. He was going to far too much trouble for you, but you weren’t exactly sure how to protest the manners of such a powerful vampire. You barely made it through three sips of tea before your eyelids grew heavy and you folded your arms to rest your head on the table. He continued to clamor around the kitchen as you watched sleepily, his hum turning to a soft whistle as you dozed off.
The smell of fresh tomatoes and basil began to make your stomach growl again, loud enough that it woke you from your nap. It took you a moment to remember where you were as you looked at the pots bubbling away on the stove and the patterned tile of the floor around you. Mrs. G was the only person you knew who could cook and this certainly wasn’t her apartment.
“Primo?” a soft voice called from the side door. “I’ve got your groceries.”
You heard Primo quickly sweep through the house behind you, that fancy robe billowing as he rushed to greet her. “Ah, diavolina! I didn’t expect you today.”
“I’m sorry. I had something come up and I needed to make the delivery early. I should have called or something. I didn’t expect you to have company.”
“It was a surprise to me as well, diavolina,” he said with a laugh.
You leaned back in your chair trying to peer around the corner, but you were unable to see who he was talking to. You strained your ears to make out the rest of their muffled conversation before reminding yourself that it was really none of your business. After a moment, they exchanged goodbyes and Primo returned to the kitchen.
“Everything ok, piccolina? How was your nap?”
“Oh, I’m fine really. I’ve just been so tired since—uh—”
He nodded. “That is a common side effect, but this should help.”
Your eyes followed him as he swept back through the kitchen, draining pots and stirring the contents of others. When he finished, he presented you with a dish that was plated so nicely it should have been in a photograph. He doted on you, bringing over anything he thought you might need from extra silverware to pepper before he settled across from you with his own plate. You wondered how long it had been since he had a proper visitor. Even the delivery girl seemed surprised someone else was here.
“You know, for people who don’t need to eat, you guys sure do love food,” you quipped before taking a bite. It was without a doubt the best thing you had ever tasted and you let out an involuntary pleased hum. “Ok, I take it back. I get it now.”
He chuckled softly. “Grazzie mille, piccolina. One could get very bored very quickly if he only allowed himself to eat one thing for eternity.”
“Ah, good point.”
“Piccolina, did you know for as long as there have been vampires, there have been vampire hunters?”
You nervously gripped your fork. “I had been taught that, yes. But I’m learning there are a lot of things that I was taught that might not be…correct.”
He laughed lightly and patted your hand. “I’m afraid that might be our fault as well. Vampire hunters are almost always human and therefore have much shorter live expectancies. Which they then use to fuel your hatred for us, yes? To make monsters out of men like me and Terzo when all we’ve ever done, for centuries mind you, is defend ourselves or the ones we love. Hunters are…shortsighted. They have the luxury of a limited memory, but it forces them to pass their hatred to younger and younger generations. Do you recall many elders from your group?”
“One or two, maybe?” you admitted. “They were always sort of…hidden.”
Primo nodded. “One of the more effective ways we found to protect ourselves was to spread disinformation through the hunters’ network. There may not be much they taught you about us that is actually true.” He cracked a wry smile. “Once for about, eh, fifty years, I had them convinced that we lay eggs to reproduce.”
“And they just…believed you?”
He shrugged. “Hatred makes you blind to many things, piccolina. But also, quite gullible to others.”
“I don’t know that I would ever believe that.”
He raised an eyebrow. “But sunlight, garlic, silver, mirrors…these things are believable to you?”
You sank in your seat. “I see your point.”
He reached across the table and squeezed your hand. “I did not tell you these things to make you feel foolish, piccolina. I imagine it is quite difficult to try to unlearn a lifetime of things in a matter of a few weeks.” He sighed heavily. “It is a shame what they did to Meliora House, but I suppose in a way it helped you at least.”
“What the hell is this?” Terzo bellowed as he appeared and leaned against the doorframe. “Are you trying to steal her from me, old man?” Gone was the sassy little crop top, replaced by a tasteful black dress shirt he had given up buttoning past his navel. His paints were back as well, thick precise lines that gave him an edge of seriousness you weren’t used to.
“Well, it would certainly teach you a lesson about trying to steal your brothers’ wives—” Primo noted, pointing his fork at his brother. He reached over with his other hand to pat you on the back, his accusation causing you to choke on your food. “Hmm, looks like the two of you need to have a conversation about your past now that you belong to one another.”
“Oh no, that’s not really what we’re doing,” you added nervously. “He just needed help.”
He pinned you with a concerned look before turning back to his brother. “Terzo…”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me. I explained the whole thing before it happened—”
“And he was, you know, dying,” you added.
“I was not!”
“Well, you looked like a corpse.”
“Piccolina, I do appreciate your willingness to not let Terzo die.” He stood and moved closer to you to gently ask his next question. “But do you really not understand what the two of you have done?”
“Is it really that serious?”
“You explained nothing, idiota!” Primo barked as he crossed the room to smack the back of Terzo’s head.
“Yes, I did!” he shot back, ducking out of his brother’s reach as he tried to hit him again. “It’s not my fault that she’s so—”
“So what, Terzo?” you interrupted.
“Stubborn! Ai!” he howled as you pinched him. “Both of you fuck off!”
Primo narrowed his eyes at his brother, the white one almost glowing with anger. He spoke in quick, clipped Italian phrases, each one punctuated by another slap to any part of Terzo’s body he could get to. It went on for several minutes with Terzo covering his face to protect it from the blows as he snapped back in what you assumed was equally aggressive language. The last phrase he spat out was a step too far and Primo growled as he hauled Terzo up by the collar, his feet kicking desperately as his brother lifted him and dragged him to the side door. He tossed him out with no effort, the frail appearance of his body betraying his true strength.
There was an aura of anger hanging over him, a cloud of unhealthy rage that only seemed to dissipate after he threw his plate at the wall. When he turned back to you there was nothing but kindness in his eyes and an apology for his actions on his lips. He regarded you with a soft, gentile expression, almost like he wished he could explain everything and apologize for Terzo himself. You had no idea what they had screamed at each other, but the look he gave you—the pity—suggested that his younger brother had massively fucked up.
“Did he tell you, piccolina? About the mark?” he asked quietly, averting his gaze.
“Um…”
“What he said is important. Do you remember it?”
You nodded and swallowed hard. “He said that there’s a…bond that would form between us and that no one else could touch me.”
“Did he tell you why?” he asked as he knelt in front of you.
You shook your head. “He just…he said I was different?”
His shoulders sagged as he sighed heavily. “It’s true, piccolina. You are different to him. The mark…the bond it creates…it’s…” he trailed off and sucked down an uneasy breath before taking your hands in his. “It is an act of love, piccolina,” he explained quietly. “A sign of devotion.”
“I-I don’t—"
His face softened. “It’s not such an easy thing to explain, I imagine. Our existence is…well lucky for you it was something you were already aware of, but as I said there is a lot that humans still don’t understand about us. I am sure that’s not an easy thing to hear either. But the two of you…are bound together.”
“Yeah, that’s what he said.”
Primo sighed and glanced out the window. “Mio fratellino is…shall we say, complicated. He has always worn his heart on his sleeve—used to drive our father insane. A free spirit like that is much harder to control, you see? But now it seems he has finally met his match. His heart belongs to you.”
“I get what you’re saying but that…that—that can’t be right. He—”
“It is what the mark means, piccolina. It’s an act of love because it is love.”
“But…he…I…are you saying that he’s—he’s in lo—” You swallowed the rest of the word, wanting to choke on it as the sharp edges scraped down your throat.
“I cannot speak for him, but I suspect he has spent a very long time trying to feel anything but this. Possibly longer than you can comprehend. I’m in no position to ask any favors, but please, if you could, be careful with him, eh? You are his heart now.”
“That…that’s not possible—”
“And yet it is,” he said, groaning as he stood, his joints popping loudly. “You realize he wouldn’t bring just anybody to this place, piccolina. But he brought you.”
“Why would he—”
“You’ll have to ask him, I’m afraid. I suspect he’ll be hiding somewhere out in the gardens as usual,” he said as he pointed to an empty space between hedges.
On shaking legs, you pushed yourself up and made your way to the side door. Your head spun, overloaded with a pressure that made you dizzy.
“Primo?” you asked.
“Yes, piccolina?”
“What did you say to him?”
He cracked a smile. “Just gave him some brotherly advice.”
You nodded and pushed your way out of the cottage. A small stone path overgrown with bright green moss led away from the house and past a large, glass-domed conservatory filled with plants and flowers. The break in the hedge revealed a private garden completely hidden from view by the surrounding foliage. The most beautiful flowers sprouted from every direction lit by tiny lanterns and lights that had been fixed to the arches above. The plants had been encouraged to grow up and over the opening, like the space was just part of the landscape. It was clear that Primo had spent a lot of time and effort to build this space and you found yourself remembering the lush gardens of Meliora House. Had he designed those too?
There was so much you didn’t know about Terzo and his life. About his brothers and how they grew up and came to be what they are. So many things were a mystery to you and yet somehow, he had seen through all your ignorance and found something about you that he could no longer deny—even if he wanted to. It was on you now, his feelings woven into your skin—into your blood, your cells. Words he hadn’t said were spreading within you like an infection, an illness with a countdown clock ticking away to your death. Until the end of your natural life, he had said. How could he even know he would feel this longer than five minutes?
At the end of the path, Terzo stood facing away from you. His attention was focused solely on the rose bush in front of him. You called his name softly, your chest tightening when he didn’t move, though you both knew he’d heard you. It hit you hard as you stared at the back of him, his shoulders no longer holding that poise or confidence he had carried over the last few days. He looked so small, like he had when you’d first arrived at his house, that melancholy version of himself that wanted nothing to do with anyone.
Why hadn’t he told you what it all meant? Why didn’t he tell you the importance of the decision you made for the two of you? Why the fuck would he not look at you now? And why did it hurt so fucking much?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked. Your voice sounded so far away. 
“Tell you what?” he asked. He still refused to look at you, not even a sideways glance. The face paint masked his expressions, but it was easy to tell he was in pain. 
He focused on picking at an invisible hair on his pants, anything to keep his eyes down and his face forward. It hurt to look at him, to see him look so beautiful standing there despite his current attitude. You wished you could keep this moment, to capture him on film or in swirls of oil paints on a canvas grand enough to hold his image. But you couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t say much of anything.
Tears stung your eyes as he plucked a perfect rose from the bush and started slowly twisting it in his fingers. He barely winced as the thorns caught his fingers, drawing his blood in a way that felt ugly. You had seen him like this before, that night you found him singing in the garden. You’d meant to kill him and now all you wanted was for him to look at you.
“Terzo?” you tried again.
“Would you like me to apologize?” he asked coldly and finally turned to look at you.
“No. I just—Primo told me—”
“I don’t care what he told you, bellezza. He’s a lonely old fool,” he spat. “And you—why, why is it different now that he said it, huh?” He pointed at himself. “I told you. I told you the cost and what it meant, and it was still nothing to you.”
“I didn’t know. I-I didn���t understand—”
“Understand what?” he shouted.
“That you are in love with me!” you yelled back. “How was I supposed to know what it meant, Terzo? Do you think I would have said any of those things if I had known?”
With that the dam broke and you collapsed on the lawn in a sad, lifeless heap. You had never cried so hard in your entire life, and you hoped you never would again. There was so much pain and confusion in every ragged breath, and it burned through every part of you, rolling like hot smoke in your lungs as you clutched at the grass. Your chest heaved, but every attempt to get even the smallest amount of oxygen failed miserably. Terzo appeared at your side and god how you wanted to fight him off as he pulled you to his chest, but you just felt so small without him. 
“I’m so sorry bellezza,” he whispered into your ear and held you tight. “I’ve lived so long, and I still don’t know how to be a better man.”
“Just be a fucking vampire then,” you mumbled back.
“I’m not so sure I’m good at that either.”
“Then why the hell are we doing this, huh? Why should I keep saving your life?”
“Oh bellezza,” he sighed. He dragged you into his lap and kissed the top of your head. “Because you like me.”
“Ugh,” you groaned. “No, I don’t.”
“It doesn’t have to change things,” he offered quietly. “I don’t want you to change.”
You shifted away, angling yourself so you could look into his eyes. “Terzo, I—”
He pressed a finger to your lips. “You’re right, I should have told you. And you deserve to hear it, but it’s…it’s not nearly as easy as they make it look in those films.”
“Terzo, it’s ok—”
He cut you off with your name and a serious look as he ran a hand over the bandage on your neck. “This marks you because I love you, bellezza. It doesn’t say that you are mine. It says that I am yours.” He took your hand and placed it over his heart. “This is yours, cuore mio.”
You crashed into him, the two of you falling onto the grass as you kissed him desperately. There were things you could say, answers to questions he didn’t ask, but for the first time in your life you believed someone could love you. Not only could he love you, but he did. He loved you despite the cost to himself and the danger it put you both in. You melted into him, giving him the breath from your lungs and the blood in your veins. Yeah, he was yours, but you were his too. Even if you couldn’t say it out loud, it was in that wound on your neck, a scar you’d bear for the rest of your life.
Terzo was quick to pull you from the grass and back inside Primo’s. His mouth never left yours as he guided you to the little guest room at the back of the house. His t-shirt was still on the floor and the paints were left open in front of the vanity, but he was only focused on adding your clothes to the pile as he urged you toward the bed. His hair fell over his face as he leaned over you, dipping his head to trail hot kisses over the column of your throat and down your bare chest, leaving smears of black and white in his wake. He pushed your thighs apart as he kissed his way across your body, stopping short to lock eyes with you as he reached your sex.
You grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging roughly as his plush lips connected to your center. Teasingly, he ran his tongue through your folds and around your clit, moaning each time your hips left the bed. He pushed his fingers against your entrance, wanting to feel the effect he had on you. He told you as much as he pulled off your cunt to watch you stretch around his fingers as they disappeared inside you. The heel of his palm added pressure to your center as he moved up to kiss you. He pumped his fingers faster, smiling as you moaned into his mouth.
“So beautiful like this, principessa,” he whispered against your skin as your hips bucked against his hand. “Cosi bella.”
“You are,” you countered breathlessly.
He just smiled and pulled his hand away as he rolled onto the bed. “Come here,” he said, motioning with the fingers that were still wet with your slick. You gave him a puzzled look as you tried to straddle him, but he shifted until your knees were positioned on either side of his head.
“I want you like this,” he growled as he grabbed ahold of your hips and pulled you down to him.
His tongue was exploring your entrance as his nose bumped against your clit and you searched for anything you could hold onto. Your hands found his hair, gripping tight as he worked you over like it was the only thing he has ever wanted to do. Like he was trying to give you something no one else ever could. It was too much, too good, but he was too strong to let you get away easily. He dug his fingers into your hips he urged you toward your end. It washed over you, each nerve of your body exploding into little fireworks as your body tensed and you came with a shout, completely forgetting you were a guest in someone else’s home.
He grinned up at you, his face paint smeared away from his mouth and spread across the inside of your thighs.
You smiled back at him, moving further down on the bed so you could claim his lips with your own, needing to taste yourself in his mouth, needing him to know. He reached for you, but you knocked his hands away and pinned his wrists to the mattress with one hand as the other worked at the buttons of his shirt. It fell away from his chest, revealing a jagged mark where that stupid poisoned knife had pierced him.
You traced a finger over the silvery scar, feeling along the soft ridge where his pale skin had pulled itself back together. His eyes shut tight as you leaned down to plant kisses on the spot, trailing a wordless apology over his chest. A tiny whimper caught in the back of his throat as he bit his lip bloody, but you kept your touches light. You drew your lips over every inch of skin, kissing every freckle and scar, each sign that he had lived that marred his chest. You didn’t know where the others had come from, but it didn’t matter. There were several lifetimes worth of stories he could tell you when he wanted to and you’d commit each one to memory just as you would the matching scars.
He was coming apart beneath you, face twisted in pleasure and pain. You wondered why he’d never let anyone see him like this when he looked so beautiful. You toyed with the bar in his nipple, drinking in the sight of him frantically turning his head to bite at the sheets in a desperate attempt to ground himself. Was this what you had looked like to him?
His cock was straining against his pants by the time you reached his waistband, but you were in no real hurry. You freed him slowly, appreciating the length and weight of his cock as it curved up toward his belly. You licked the slit, almost purring at the noise that came out of him as you collected that little pearl of pre that had gathered at the tip.
His eyes were set on you as you lowered your head, taking more of him into your mouth. The two of you had fucked and he had even let you use him to fuck yourself, but this was the first time you were really seeing him unravel. There was something sweet about the moan that rumbled in his chest as he hit the back of your throat, like the sound he’d made when your blood filled his mouth. A noise that was a confession, a pure and complete desire to give yourself over to someone, to have them accept such a gift.
“Terzo?” you asked softly and wrapped your fist around him to make up for the loss of your mouth.
“Hmm?” he replied, eyes barely open.
“Do you…want to…”
“Want to what, cuore mio?”
“Would you…bite me again?” He kept his face blank, but his cock twitched in your hand. “You don’t have to. I just thought…maybe…”
“Are you asking because you want me to? Or are you asking because you think that’s what I want?”
“I’m asking because I want to know what it feels like,” you answered as you squeezed the base of his cock.
He groaned under you. “Amore, I would do whatever you asked.”
“Hmm, I’m going to have to remember that,” you said with a smile as you climbed back up his body. You pressed your lips to his as you reached between you and guided his cock through your slick, both of you moaning loudly as he bumped against your clit. You lined him up with your entrance, sinking slowly as he stretched you. It hadn’t even been that long, but you realized how much you missed the feeling of him, how perfectly the two of you seemed to fit together. He waited for your signal, watching you intently as you feel him press against your walls before canting his hips and reaching an impossible angle. You go slow at first, both of you content in the heat of each other, but it didn’t take long for him to make you beg for something more. You held onto him for dear life as he fucked up into so hard you couldn’t even form the words to tell him the second time you came.
“So fucking beautiful,” he said again, punctuating each thrust with the words. “Can you do it again, huh? Think you can give me one more?”
You nodded, trying to meet his thrusts to shut him up but let out a yelp as he turned and pinned you down.
“Are you sure?” he asked, running his nose along your throat.
“Yes.”
You felt a pinch as his teeth cut into your neck. Blood pumped from the wound, spilling a little more with each heartbeat. Terzo closed his mouth over the bite and let out a low, filthy moan as the taste washed over his tongue. He slammed into you as he drank, an animalistic drive taking over with a growl.
You whimpered beneath him, overcome with too many sensations as he took long pulls from your throat. The sound seemed to drag him back to himself, catching him before he went too far. He slowed his pace as off your neck and licked your blood from his teeth, staring down at the space where your bodies connected. He pushed your knees apart and thrust deep, grinning at the sound he pulled from you. His fingers swirled around your clit as he fucked you faster and harder until you choked out a broken cry, your third orgasm ripping through you. There was praise mumbled into your ear, a lot of talk about how beautiful you were and how good you felt around him, but all you could do was shake through the aftershocks as his hips stuttered. He came with a loud grunt, spilling impossibly deep inside you as he fucked each hot pulse into you.
He collapsed on top of you, gasping for breath as he pressed his sweaty forehead against your shoulder. “I knew it,” he panted between labored breaths. “You are still trying to kill me.”
You laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “You can live forever if you’re going to keep fucking me like that.”
“That could be arranged.”
“Shut up,” you managed through a giggle.
“Stay put, bellezza,” he ordered and kissed your shoulder before pulling away from you.
You gave him a thumbs up as he rounded the bed and disappeared into the en suite bathroom. A few seconds later he emerged with some wet cloths and sat next to you as the shower ran in the other room. Gently, he swiped around the wound at your neck, cleaning away as much blood as he could without causing you too much discomfort. He frowned at his handiwork, his expression made that much funnier by the smeared and smudged lines around his mouth.
“You’re going to need more bandages.” There was a hint of disappointment in his tone, almost guilty.
“Hey, I asked for this,” you reminded him.
He swallowed hard. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
It was difficult for the two of you to arrange yourselves in the tiny clawfoot tub, but Terzo made sure to take care of you in whatever way he could. He washed the rest of the blood away from your neck with such a delicate hand as he lathered a lavender scented soap over your skin. He rubbed your shoulders, working his way through the knots that had returned over the last few days, teasing you as you whimpered with relief. When you finished, he carried you back into the bedroom and placed you on the bed. He crawled in next to you and pulled you close as he shut his eyes. The afternoon sun still hung high in the sky sending daylight through the curtains behind the bed.
“Are you tired?” you teased.
“Are you not?”
“I could use a nap I guess.”
“Bene. How is your neck? Will those bandages hold?”
“As long as we’re careful, I think we’ll be fine.” You turned to look at him. There was a question hanging over the two of you, something you weren’t quite sure how to ask. But if Primo was right and everything you had been taught about vampires was incorrect then you had to start somewhere. “Is…is that how you…”
“Hmm?”
“Did someone…do this to you? To make you like this?”
He blinked at you. “Did—did I get bitten, you mean?”
“I’m sorry. That’s…that’s way too personal. Forget I said anything—”
“Bellezza,” he started softly, “that is a very, very long story about something that happened a long, long time ago. And I will tell you every detail if you wish to hear it, but you won’t turn from a bite, cuore mio. There is more to it than that.”
“Like what?”
“Well…dying was a pretty big part of it,” he replied with a shrug.
“Does it hurt?”
He gave you a tight smile and tucked your hair behind your ear. “I told you I would never hurt you.”
“I’m not asking you to. I’m just…curious, I guess.”
“It…dying didn’t feel good,” he explained cautiously. “Not to me, at least. There was no peace in it at all.”
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. God, I don’t know what is wrong with me.”
“Shh, bellezza. It’s ok. I wouldn’t have answered if I didn’t want to. Can I…can I ask you something?”
You nodded sleepily. “I think that’s only fair.”
“What would you do with it?”
“With what?”
“Eternal life.”
“I don’t know, honestly. I…I don’t know that I’d be able to accept it.”
He smiled softly. “That’s a good answer, cara.”
“You’re not…disappointed?”
“Amore mio, immortality is an impossible thing to imagine. The concept of forever is hard enough to grasp when life is limited but even I sometimes have trouble considering the infinite. I will never be disappointed in you for having an honest reaction to such a notion.”
“You’re wrong, you know? About not being a good man. I think you’re doing just fine.”
“I knew you liked me.”
You rolled your eyes and reached up to grab a pillow to hit him with, but before you could bring it down on him, he had gone cold. His dull, lifeless eyes stared back at you as you let out a horrible scream. You shook him hard, trying desperately to get him to respond as you shouted repeatedly for help.
Primo crashed through the door with lightning speed, nearly knocking you over as he landed at Terzo’s side. He ordered you to stay put before he disappeared and reappeared almost too quickly for you to notice. It made your head hurt to try to watch him move in such a way, but you were grateful that he was fast enough to help. He poured something into Terzo’s mouth before stuffing it full of odd leaves and holding it shut. Terzo began to convulse, a thick foam dribbling out of his mouth and over Primo’s hands.
“Give me your hand,” he ordered.
You did as he asked without question, your face blank as he pricked your finger and squeezed a drop of your blood into Terzo’s mouth.
“What’s happening to him?”
“It’s ok, piccolina,” Primo said softly. “He’s been poisoned by something strong.”
“Is he—”
“No!” he snapped. He reeled when you cowered away from him and shook his head. “No, piccolina. I won’t let that happen to him. You won’t let that happen to him.”
Terzo groaned weakly as his eyes fluttered open. “What happened?” he asked, his words garbled by the herbs and foam. “Ugh what did you do?”
“Saved your stupid life,” Primo growled. “At least for now. Why didn’t you tell me? How long has this been happening?”
He shrugged. “I had it handled.”
“You most certainly do not,” Primo scolded.
“I’m here aren’t I?” he snapped back.
You couldn’t hold back the awful cry that burned in your throat as you realized he knew something was wrong. You shoved him as tears poured from your eyes, striking him repeatedly as hard as you could until Primo finally had to restrain you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you screamed as you fought against Primo’s hold. “Did you know the whole time?”
Terzo looked up at you with a helpless expression. “I—I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Oh fratellino,” Primo sighed as he shrugged off his robe and draped it over your shoulders. “Try not to hurt him while I’m gone, eh?”
“I make no promises,” you replied through gritted teeth.
“Works for me,” he said and patted the top of your head before he left the room.
Terzo groaned as he pushed himself up. “Bellezza?”
You shook your head. “Were you just…going to let yourself die? Was that really a choice you considered over…telling me the truth?”
“I didn’t want you to hate me for telling you. For a moment, death seemed easier to deal with and that’s how I knew it was true. I knew then that I’m in love with you. I’m sorry for that, bellezza. I wish this all could have happened a million other ways. But I thought after all that after you offered to save me, that after I marked you, it would all be ok. It wasn’t until this morning that I knew for sure that I needed more help. And I should have told you, but you’ve been carrying so much this whole time that I couldn’t put another thing on you. At least not while you were still weak.”
“Can he cure you?” you asked, dodging his confession.
“He is the only man I’d trust with the job.”
You nodded once. “Don’t ever hide anything from me ever again.”
Thank you so much for reading and all your likes, reblogs and comments 💜 The next chapter will be the end of vampire Terzo's story, but some familiar faces will return as well. 💜💜💜
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cringecannon · 7 months
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I don't know if anyone has discussed this, but imagine explaining "primal play" and they play an erotic and dark version of hide and seek where they have to use their base senses to track and find their "prey". Once found, you are not even taken back to bed they are so riled up and aggressively turned on from the "hunt".
I'm pretty sure this will work for most characters in the game even NPCs, but would enjoy to see our usual suspects (Gortash, Raphael,Astarion, maybe some Kar'niss...)
I loooooove primal play, but I think some of our usual suspects would have a slightly different way of approaching it.
Astarion adores it. He can put on a sophisticated air all he wants- seeing you run, hearing your blood pumping awakens something in him. Ascended or Spawn makes no difference- he becomes a beast. Hide wherever you’d like, darling. He can hear the rabbit-fast beat of your heart. Running isn’t much better. His steps are light, precise. You won’t expect it when he tackles you to the ground, fangs bared against your throat as he holds your head to the dirt. Plead all you want, he’s a slave to instinct now. You’ll get no mercy as his fangs plunge into your throat and his hand slips beneath your clothes.
Kar’niss would have to be encouraged. He can’t stand the thought of accidentally hurting you. Once you reassure him that it’s what you want, he’s willing to try. He didn’t realize how much he’d like it. Finding a place for your little game is difficult, but an abandoned wing of the dungeons suffices. You nestle yourself behind a couple of large crates, hands covering your mouth to stifle your breathing. You can hear the click click click of his legs against the stone, closer and closer and closer until it sounds like he’s right beside you. You can hear him breathing. Your entire body trembles as you slowly tilt your head up. You feel your blood turn to ice when you see him hanging from the ceiling right above, tensed and unblinking. Don’t run, beloved. It’ll just make him more excited.
Raphael loves a game. He’s a cat, eyes narrowed and hiding in the shadows, waiting for the opportunity to strike. The halls of his house seem endless, impossible turns and locked doors that you swear you’ve passed three times by now. You feel like you’ve been running for hours, no end in sight. You can hear his laughter ringing through your head. You can’t tell what’s real anymore. It’s impossible to know how long it’s been, but eventually, you’d slow. From a frenzied sprint, to a stuttering jog, until you have to hold the stitch in your side as you trudge through the hallway. You can hear footsteps behind you. You don’t have time to react before your feet are pulled out from under you, sprawling you across the carpet. You’re too exhausted to struggle when you feel a boot against your back. Giving up so soon, mouse? Disappointing. He’ll have to find other ways to entertain himself now.
Gortash is willing to play your game, but he’s not going to play fair. Who said he’s the one who has to do the chasing? Run through the streets, try to find some nook or cranny to hide in. It won’t matter in the end. His steel watchmen have no need to rest, will never stop hunting. The worst part is the taunting. Filthy promises, harsh threats, assurances that he will find you project from the watchman prowling in the alley you’ve hidden in. The speech should’ve clued you in- he knew where you were the entire time. A metal hand rips you from your hiding spot, and Gortash’s smug laugh rings out from the soldier’s body. You had your fun, dearest. Time to come home so he can have his.
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